SONG OF CARCOSA is the third of the Countess Zorzi series by Josh Reynolds. I’m a huge fan of these books and their Catwoman-esque protagonist. The Countess is a multi-dimensional protagonist who straddles the line between the upper class of the 1920s as well as the increasing social tensions of the working class. She’s an ex-con woman and cat burglar but has made her fortune through multiple generations of her family being very good at both. It makes a fascinating sort of character to explore the Cthulhu Mythos through and I have no doubt she’d be one of the rare survivors of Masks of Nyarlathotep or Horror on the Orient Express.
This book has the Countess ally herself with questionable company in the Red Coterie. A group of sorcerers and aristocrats that may not be as evil as the Silver Twilight Lodge but are absolutely not to be trusted. This takes her and her companion, butch cab driver and thief-in-training Pepper Kelly, back to her hometown of Venice. While I prefer stories set in Arkham Horror’s titular city, I appreciate the international nature of the Countess Zorzi books. We get a romanticized view of the floating city at this point in time that involves lots of secrets, intrigue, Old World aristocrats, and the rising tide of fascism.
Song of Carcosa, as the name implies, is about Hastur. The most famous Great Old One not invented by H.P. Lovecraft but adapted from Robert W. Chambers’ King in Yellow. Once more, we have the mysterious entity connected to an adapation of a mysterious play, madness inducing writing, and artists obsessed with bringing the supernatural to the world in order to bring about its end. In this case, the artist has the semi-sympathetic motive that he thinks that summoning Hastur is the only way to short circuit a second World War.
This is a good book for Pride month. Countess Alessandra is confirmed as bisexual with a reference to a past girlfriend of hers that she broke up with because of her cousin ratting her out to their family. Pepper has always been subtextually lesbian and gets more “hints” to this as her dream self is revealed to be a warrior woman in love with the Queen of Carcosa. We also get the confirmation that both of Zorzi’s parents received “fencing lessons” from the Red Cavalier in a revelation that shocks the Countess. The 1920s isn’t a great place to be when you’re LGBTA but it’s certainly a setting that Arkham Horror acknowledges them existing.
As mentioned, the book deals with the fact that fascism is now rising in Italy and the specter of World War 2 is starting to loom over the supernatural as well as mundane forces of Europee. I think this is an interesting element and adds to the story greatly. It is an all-too-human evil and we don’t have an Andrew Doran figure to fight Nazi aligned Cthulhu cultists. I think it’s all too appropriate that everyone, sorcerer and opponent of sorcerer alike, looks down on the fascists.
In conclusion, I continue to recommend the Countess Zorzi series as an excellent example of adventure horror. They’re Indiana Jones and Lara Croft-esque expeditions except our heroine is even more of a criminal than them. I also like Pepper’s development as she continues to go from a tagalong sidekick to an increasingly interesting heroine in her own right. It also is a pretty good story for Pride Month because it’s nice to have queer characters just being awesome, though I wish they’d stop dancing around with Pepper.

Me, 25f, and my boyfriend, 38m, are expecting a baby in November of this year. We were very excited for this baby, we couldn’t get pregnant for 3 months and finally on the fourth we got it, but I as a person can not change to be better for him.
This hurts me to write and hurts me even more to even have to ask this question to myself everyday. I can not change to be a better lover for him and he gives me chance after chance. I’m insecure and pick fights constantly. It makes him feel undesirable and terrible as a man. My apartment got condemned and he was the first to message his cousin to get me a new place immediately. He put a new couch in it along with a washer and dryer so I could be comfortable when the baby arrives(I have to walk to the laundromat). He gave me his last 200$ to pay the rest of the security and first month. He got me a pregnancy pillow when I was too broke to get one and paid for my groceries when I was dry after moving the way I did. I still questioned his love.
I’ve hurt him so many times and I guess I’m asking this specific question because I don’t want to have him be stuck with me or feel he needs to stay around because we’re having a baby. Why should he? Should we consider an abortion? There’s so much more to my issues and such, but that’s just one way I’ve made him feel. I’ve never been a good lover and for two years I’ve kinda tried to heal while I was single before I met him and thought I was ready for him. I wasn’t.
I let past relationships really effect how I looked at him and compared too much when he was nothing like that. I fucked up. I regret it and it’s really too late to change now. I’d love to have this baby, but I don’t want to hurt knowing I could’ve been raising this baby with him. He had a baby with another woman years ago and she started treating him bad as well and it broke his heart because he wanted so bad to do it together with her. It hurts my heart to have to hurt him again this way.
This isn’t to hurt him more, but I feel like It’s an idea to consider. We regret with how we started fighting after we got pregnant making this baby. We wanted more than ever to raise it together, but I just can’t seem to change. I want too so badly, but I have never been good at relationships. He’s such a good man. He deserves better.
Should I consider an abortion?

For starters I’m (22) (F) and I live in Alaska. This happened on Friday night this week. I went to the bar with my girlfriend (23) (F) and I was DD (designated driver) as soon as we get there 11:00pm I found a parking spot and I double checked my mini purse for all my essentials while I stuffed my keys. We got out locked the truck and headed in the busy bar, we stayed until it closed (1:50am) we were told there was going to be an after party, my friend and I were only there to dance and socialize we both had a single Angry Orchard bottle each, and 1 shot of Malibu white rum to avoid guys asking to buy us drinks. My friend had her drinks just before they closed while I had mine right as I gotten in the door. So she was a little buzzed.
We headed back to the car, I stopped for a second to check my texts and I saw my acquaintance had said “there’s going to be a fire on the party beach”. I excitedly explained to my girlfriend that we got invited to an after party. I asked my underclassmen (21) (M) to help grab pallets and we’ll give him a ride home after the fire. He agreed and hoped in. I took a back road to grab a few, checking the store lots and fishing stores for extra pallets. My truck has a 6ft bed so there’s not a lot of room and the carry load isn’t awesome. I found 7 dry pallets myself and my (M) friend both loaded into a V-stack and hopped back in.
I was driving to the 4 stop slowing down do to a red light I waited, I needed to make a left turn to head to the roundabout. Looking left, right, a head, then through my rear view mirror, there was no other cars in sight. The light was still red, my mind wandered while waiting and I remembered my bf always barking at me to turn when the lights red and it’s safe to do so. Letting my thoughts do my decision making I started to take my left, it was like my body new how long a red light is supposed take, but as I was already past the cross walk with all four tires I looked up and saw the light was still red.
My heart sank, I’ve never done anything like this, I’d like to think I’m a really good driver and I usually make it my mission to not mess up. I even call in folks who are violating major laws on the road. But this time I was that violator. I held my breath thinking about if a cop saw me, if my bf whose name is on the car is going to get a court summons because of me. He just broke his ankle last month and we are still waiting for all the bills to come in, what if I costed us $150-$500 fine? We can’t afford that I don’t have a job he’s been the provider unless I manage to get an odd job here and there. My ideas, assumptions, and stories ran through my head, mentally exhausting myself as I drove to party beach.
We get there and no one is there, I called my cousin (22) (F) who’s also an acquaintance of the person who texted me about the after party. She was supposed to go I thought she would know what to do. She told me to unload the pallets and be ready for her and everyone else. 5-15-35-45-1 hour later she shows up in one truck. It’s already after 4am the guy she’s with pulls out a bit of cardboard and a blow torch. I asked where everyone else is and she said no one else is coming. We tried to get the pallets to light but it had begun to lightly rain, I said if they don’t light in the next 20 mins we are heading out.
20 mins passed and nothing happened, leaving the pallets behind I had to drive my (M) friend home and I drove my (F) friend and myself home since we lived together. I asked her “did I run a red light, because I made my left turn after making sure no one was coming.” She told me that I could only make right turns while the light was red and no oncoming vehicles were present. My heart did a skip and plummeted to my toes “I ran a red light omg” my friend tried to console me knowing how ridiculously anal I am about following the rules. But I had made a mistake, the damage was already done, walking to the door she tried to tell me there’s no cameras and there’s no way I’ll get into trouble because she has a feeling in her gut.
My bf lives downstairs with me, I got downstairs and once we made eye contact he started telling me off for not communicating, and how I had one job, and what did I do wrong because I’m making the “I messed up face”. I told him about my red light story which only irritated him more, and I even explained I did what he’s been asking me to do since I stubbornly always wait for the light to turn green before making any turns and that instead of a right turn I did a left. That made his mood worse because he thought I was blaming him, I told him he was just the inspiration. So for the rest of the night until 6am we argued and by 7am he was already at work driving with his left foot with his right in a cast.
It’s been 48 hours since the incident, I haven’t been able to shake my wrong doing. My friend and bf keep trying to reassure me that good karma is a thing and I won’t get in trouble but my stomach turns just writing this down. I had to drive my bf I work this morning and I had to go through the same 4-way I had both hands on the wheel at 9 & 3 o’clock and my seat belt on while driving 25 miles per hour. I noticed little white boxes and a round white camera on a street light pole on the corner. I could feel sweat beading on my face and body, I felt hot. Dropping off my bf I went to get his morning coffee and snack, I waited in the drive through and looked up on my phone the little white boxes and camera I found out they’r a traffic cam & radar detectors.
I know I ran a red light, it was late at night and I wasn’t drunk or even buzzed the alcohol I did drink was long gone. I wasn’t on my phone, the music wasn’t even on, my thoughts and my friends chatting were the only things I was hearing. I took a left turn while the light was red. Is there any legal advice on how to argue my innocence or a lower fee because my bf and I are looking at a $40k-$50k bill for his surgery + more. And it wasn’t intentional there wasn’t another soul or vehicle on the street. My body knew when the light should’ve been green and I looked up already in the middle of the 4-stop to still see it red. I genuinely made a mistake but I haven’t called it in, I don’t want to have a fine we can’t afford, that’s why I’m looking for advice. I can’t stand being a criminal.

If you came here from AITAH then you've possibly already read this... if not, this is the story of what unfolded after my Great Uncle Joe passed away, and what has turned into a crazy few days - and maybe a story that will continue for years to come.
A couple of days ago, my Joe passed away at the age of 92. The best way to describe Joe was “eccentric.” He was reclusive and very private, living on what I assume was the last little piece of our family’s property (my great-grandfather had amassed a large amount of land that had been sold off over the decades after his death). A lot of people thought he was a hermit, but I never saw him like that. To me, he was the most compassionate person I knew. He was wise, caring, and honestly the only person in the family that ever spent serious quality time with me.
Joe had always been the odd man out in our family. He was the youngest of three brothers – Alex, (who I’m named after) died in the Korean war and my grandfather Robert passed away when I was still in high school. My family never bothered to pay attention to Joe; he was never invited to family events. In fact, I think he was ignored because he lived a simple life in a shotgun house on what I guess was the last piece of land that my Great Grandfather (GG) had owned. I got the feeling that no one wanted to bother him, thinking he’d just cause them trouble or maybe ask them for money, but I spent a lot of time with him, and we shared many conversations about life, legacy, and the things that truly matter – he never appeared to need anything and certainly never asked me for money.
Now, a bit more backstory on the family. We’ve been in this area for generations, and there's a strong sense of unearned privilege among many of my relatives. Like I said earlier, my GG owned a lot of land, around 60,000 acres to be exact. It was fertile farmland, tracts of timber, and stretched into the mountains where he had leased out select areas for mining, and some of the most beautiful lakes and riverfront in the state. When he died, each of the brothers inherited 30,000 acres from their parents (1/2 to each surviving son of the 60,000 total acres of timberland, mining leases, and game land my GG owned). Our grandfather, like his brothers, sold off his share over the years. He lived large and was married three times, having children with each wife. By the time he died, he had sold off about half his land, and his children (including my father) each received a nice cash inheritance and split the remaining land among them equally.
This should have been plenty for most people to retire comfortably, but not for my family. Each of the children, my dad included, then sold off their land to fund their standard of living until finally there was nothing left. There was a lot of resentment among the uncles and aunts and particularly among the cousins who experienced different upbringings—some of whom had little to no memory of their grandfather and even less knowledge of the legacy my family had been gifted, and squandered. Joe was the only one that seemed to care about the family’s legacy and wanted to preserve some record of it. He would sit with me for hours telling stories. When I came back from Afghanistan and was slowly recovering from my injuries he came and saw me every day. He’d share stories and I’d write them down – I’ve got a heck of a collection to share with my children one day, if I’m ever lucky enough to meet the right lady.
From a young age, I was captivated by Joe's stories about his oldest brother, who died in the Korean War. There was an 18-year age difference between them, so they didn’t share many adventures, but Joe idolized his brother as a hero. Those stories inspired me deeply, and I was the only one in the family who chose to serve in the military. Joe was my biggest supporter during my service and, later, when I was injured and medically retired before I turned 30. After my recovery, Joe encouraged me to pursue a career that would make a difference. Ultimately, I decided to go back to college and attend law school. The two years of law school were a nice distraction from the physical and mental pain I brought back with me from the war, and I ultimately became an attorney advocating for veterans. Now I have a small practice in town and focus most of my efforts on pro-bono work (I’m comfortable on the few paying cases I take at a time and my military retirement). I live and work in a cool old space on our town’s main street that I lucked into at a super cheap rent.
This morning I got a call from my great-uncle’s attorney (who was also one of his only friends). I know him professionally, and he’s a good man – he feeds me the occasional client that’s not right for his firm, and we’ve got a good working relationship. He said that Joe had instructed him to prepare me to be ready to deal with some family drama after his will was read. He said Joe wanted me to know he loved me, that he had confidence that I’d do the right thing, and that he was sorry that I was the only one he could trust to handle “things” appropriately. Cryptic, right? Well, that was pretty much normal for Joe! Damn, I’m going to miss him, but I guess I already said that.
Joe always implied that I was the only one in the family that ever showed him any concern and that he’d never forget it, but we never talked about money or anything else; it wasn’t important to either of us. I think Joe made me realize how much more important it was to be a good man than a rich man and that nothing else ever really mattered. The rest of my family definitely doesn’t see it like this.
Like I said, Joe was the black sheep because he didn’t fit into the mold of privilege and entitlement. Most of the family didn’t treat him with the respect he deserved, and they really missed out on getting to know an amazing person. I will say though that Joe had a sharp wit and wasn’t shy about sharing his opinions of how my father and his siblings had treated the family’s legacy. There’s a part of me that thinks Joe might have set things up to mess with those who ignored him and didn’t honor their heritage and ancestors.
I’m not sure what to expect to come from this, but Joe was eccentric, not delusional – if he said that he was getting ready to deal me some “family drama” to deal with then I believe him, but honestly I can’t figure what it would be. Joe was a simple guy – he never worked that I knew of, and the times I asked him what he did for a living, he’d just tell me that he had my great-grandfather to thank for a nice life. I assume he’s referring to the land he sold off, giving him the means to just hunt, fish, raise his dogs (I’ll have to tell you about them sometime), and spend time with me. Maybe Joe managed to hold onto some cash and was going to make a big deal about what he was doing with it? I suppose some of the family might get spun up about that given the fact there is not much left from what my GG passed on?
I’ll know more tomorrow. The will is supposed to be read on Friday, and I’ll update you then. Maybe I’m worried about nothing, but I feel like I’m about to be in a battle, and I haven’t felt like this since Kabul. I know this isn’t an AITA post yet, but I guess I’m wondering if AIGTBTA – Am I Going To Be The Asshole?
*** MINI-UPDATE **\*
I've had several more calls from extended family asking if I knew anything and I still don't have anything concrete to share but it sounds like everyone over the age of 18 has been asked to come to the reading, that's a little unusual in my opinion but then again I don't know how long ago Joe wrote this will. By my count there could be up to 15 people there tomorrow.
I went to Joe's place to pick up his dog's stuff early this morning (he's living with me now) and as much as I'd have liked to nose around to try and figure out what's going on I have too much respect for him to do that (plus it's not my stuff). There was a stack of bound journals (he's the one that had me start journaling) and other documents on the dining table. Joe had set a note on top asking for them to be delivered to his attorney in the event he passed. I think he knew he wasn't coming back and set them out there so they wouldn't be overlooked when the family came in after he died. He was very concerned that a lot of family history was going to be forgotten when he died. I'll make sure that doesn't happen.
One thing did stick out as strange - the other reason I went by was to pick up his mail so I could drop it at his attorney's office this afternoon before the meeting tomorrow - lucky I did since he left that pile of stuff. Obviously I didn't open any mail, but I can say that it's not what I expected. He spent several days in the hospital before he died and I hadn't been back to his house since he went in, so I knew there would be about a week's worth of mail piled up. I figured it would be mostly bills and junk but several of the letters looked like checks from corporations, including a couple I'm personally familiar with. Maybe he did have more going on than I thought, but honestly it just wasn't ever something we talked about.
Last quick thing and nothing to do with the AITAH thing- only sharing because I'm actually personally excited about something that happened and this is taking the place of my journaling for a couple of day. About a month ago my high-school sweetheart moved back to town to take a position with the local hospital. She used to come to Joe's with me when we were in high school and Joe let us take his brother's car to go to Prom. He really liked her and she always said she enjoyed spending time with him too.
She was a year behind me in school. We tried to keep seeing each other after I enlisted but that almost never works out. After graduation she went to college, then medical school, and did her residency on the West Coast. She rarely came back and I was gone for so long we totally lost touch. It's been over decade since we've actually seen each other, although I did hear from her a couple times after I was injured. Back then she was just starting her residency and between her schedule, the time difference, and my rehab we never really got could find the time to really reconnect.
Yesterday she called me to tell me how sorry she was to hear he had passed and we're planning on meeting for drinks tonight to catch up - hopefully tonight. I really needed something to look forward to and this definitely qualifies!
*** (NOT SO) MINI-UPDATE 2 **\*
Ok, I didn't think I'd be updating again until have the reading tomorrow morning at 10:30, but things are heating up a little already. In addition to the random calls from cousins who knew that Joe and I were close as well as from my siblings, I’ve gotten three phone calls today from the "previous generation".
First call was from my Aunt Debbie, she’s the youngest of my dad’s brothers and sisters and always has been a lot to deal with. She married a nice guy but always is complaining about money, wanting to travel more, buy a nicer home, etc. After my grandfather passed away she spent the money he left her on who-knows-what and within 10 years had sold off all of the land she had inherited. Unfortunately she was selling off land when the market was down during the recession, so what would have probably been worth well over $30,000,000 today she sold for less than a third of that. That’s still a lot of money but it seems like she’s burned through a lot of it already (or given it to her kids). Anyway – she called me to tell me that she knows I’m the only one with a key to Joe’s place and she wanted me to meet her there and let her in this afternoon. I told her I was already busy today and she got a little annoyed and told me not to forget to bring it with me to the reading tomorrow. She said they want to clear the house out ASAP because she's going to develop the land into homesites and needs to get things rolling. This was news to me but I just ignored her and told her I’d see her tomorrow. For reference, I know for a fact that despite living within 30 minutes of Joe she hadn’t spoken to him in over a DECADE!
The next call I got was from my father’s current wife, Jessica. She’s 20 years younger than he is and is the only wife he didn’t have kids with (thank God, and no, I don't care if she reads this). Anyway – my dad’s wife called me and said she knew how much Joe / Alex’s car meant to me and told me that if I wanted to buy it she’d try to give me the first shot at it. I just thanked her and got off the phone. This woman has literally never even met Joe.
Finally, I just got off the phone with my dad. He called me about 30 minutes after his wife did. This is the first time I’ve heard from him since Joe died. My Dad is actually closer to Joe’s age than Joe was to Alex’s. Joe was 14 when my dad was born, like me he was so much younger than his brothers that there was almost a generational gap between them. Joe was probably more like an older brother than a young uncle and for a while they were really close but something happened (no one ever told me what) and there was a falling out.
My dad has a big personality – he’s lived a pretty extravagant life and for despite being nearly 80 years old (yeah, he was over 60 before I got out of high school) he’s still the “big man” when he goes into a room. He was my Grandfather’s oldest son so he’s always taken on the lead role at family events. Like his sisters and brother he sold off his land too, although I know he sold it off in smaller pieces and over a longer period of time. He basically used it as bank account and selling it off was his version of making a withdrawal. I assume he’s set for the rest of his life and I know my brothers and sister are expecting an inheritance when he dies. In fact - they speak pretty openly about it.
My Dad's call was a welcome change after the calls from Debbie and Jessica. My dad actually sounded pretty reserved and a little down. The first thing he did was apologize to me for Jessica’s call. He told me she had no right to do that and she had no say in anything that was going to happen with Joe’s property - or his one day for that matter. Evidently he tore her a new one after walking in on the tail-end of her conversation with me. He told me that he knew I was the only one in the family that spent time with Joe and that regardless of what happens at reading tomorrow he was going to give me anything Joe left him – if he left him anything at all. He told me that he appreciated how much I had done for Joe and that he had regrets about how their relationship had soured. I’ve literally never heard him talk like that before and it honestly has me a little emotional. It sucks that he has to live with those regrets when a 30 minute drive was all it would have taken to start fixing a relationship.
Finally – he told me that he didn’t really know for sure but he suspected tomorrow might hold some surprises. He told me that he’d be there to back me up no matter what happened and that I wasn’t going to be alone. I asked him if he knew something but he promised me he didn’t know anything for sure and that he would have told me if he did. He said he'd just always had suspicions about "some things" and that depending on how things unfolded he didn’t want to see any more relationships go the way his and Joe’s had, or the way Joe and my grandfather’s had.
I told him about the call from Debbie and he said she was way out of line and to not worry about it, that he'd be giving her a call immediately after he got off the phone with me. He also told me that I shouldn’t let anyone else in Joe’s house, that I was the only one Joe gave a key to for a reason and that no one had any business going in there until after the will was read.
Obviously I wasn’t planning on letting anyone in but this was possibly the most supportive call I’ve ever had with my father and I just appreciated that he was planning on standing up for me. My brothers, sister, and cousins (I’ve got 2 brothers, 1 sister and 8 cousins) all got used to a certain way of life from their parents but frankly none of them have been able to maintain it on their own and most of them are pretty petty about it. Their parents aren't much better, despite having had the benefit of a generous inheritance.
I’ve got to stop by the attorney’s office at 4:30 and then I’m meeting Samantha (Sam) for drinks and maybe dinner if we both have time. If you want to hear about that let me know, otherwise I’ll just stick to the family stuff.
*** up-DATE **\*
It’s late – I don’t know if I’ll get all this out but I wanted to write it down before I forgot.
First, Joe’s attorney looks worn out. He didn’t share much when I dropped everything off, just thanked me and we chatted for a few minutes. He did say that he hoped I was going to get a good night’s rest, that tomorrow was going to be long. He also asked how many clients I was working with right now, which was odd, we rarely talk about caseloads. I told him I was just handling some contract work and a few family estate planning matters (ironic, right?). He just nodded and said “Good.” I could tell he wanted to say more but he just shook my hand and said he’d see me in the morning.
Drinks with Sam turned into dinner and then dinner turned into an after-dinner drink before we both had to get home since it’s a “school night”. Seeing her was like stepping back in time... I don’t know about her, but for me all the feelings that I thought were just a high school crush came rushing back as soon as I sat down with her. I know I might just be feeling a little bit stressed by what’s going on and maybe she’s just a welcome relief from a bad week, but I’ll take it for now. She’s done everything she said she would in high school – stayed focused in college and medical school, did her surgical residency in under six years and then her cardiothoracic fellowship. She literally just finished and moved back here as soon as she was done. Evidently she received a full scholarship from a foundation associated with the hospital on the condition she return to provide surgical support to the community for 5 years after she finished her fellowship. We’ve got a fantastic hospital but I guess it’s always a challenge to recruit talented surgeons. I told her about my practice and the veteran advocacy work I do. I told her I didn’t plan on getting rich doing it but that I enjoyed being home and that the connection I felt to the land here just keeps growing stronger.
We talked a lot about Joe. She surprised me when she told me that she kept in touch with him even after we stopped seeing each other. She’d call him once a month or so to see how he was doing and she had evidently visited him when he was in the hospital during his last few days. He never told me that she stayed in touch – in fact we never spoke much about her at all. I hadn’t seen her in ten years and frankly didn’t think she’d ever come back from the West Coast. I’m starting to think that Joe kept a lot of secrets.
I told her about the reading of the will tomorrow and the phone calls I’d gotten today she got visibly upset when I mentioned the comment about the car and I think she almost cried when I told her my aunt wanted to tear down Joe’s house and divide the land up for a bunch of houses.
Then she reminded me about Joe’s plans for a house… I had completely forgotten that back when she and I would go over there regularly he had pulled out these extensive plans for a large home that he said was designed to be built on the slope of the valley, overlooking the river below that fronts the property. It was intended to be a family home, but without a family he never saw the point of living anywhere other than his house.
He had done the designs himself, drawing every architectural detail, making landscaping plans, even identified the site. He was quite an artist and had put so much of himself into those plans. I can’t believe she remembered them but she said she always wanted to see that cabin in person and couldn’t bare the thought that someone would chop up the beautiful property just to put in a bunch of McMansions for the crowd coming out from the city for the weekend and summers. I told her I was going to do everything I could to prevent that from happening but that I didn’t know how it was going to turn out.
For a while I forgot about tomorrow and we just got caught up on what we’d been doing. She let me share what I wanted to and never pried for more information. We ended up holding hands across the table, which somehow felt incredibly intimate. When it was time to go I walked her to her car and opened her door for her. She turned to me and we hugged for what seemed like a full minute before she sat down and I closed the door. She rolled the window down and told me she wanted me to call her right after the will is read and that if I needed her to she’d be there if things got unpleasant.
So that’s it – kind of a perfect way to end the day. I wanted to get this out before I went to bed, it’s helping me keep my head clear. Next update will be after the will is read.
NOPE: I was literally about to hit post on this and my phone dinged with a text from Sam. I’ll just put it here exactly as I got it: “Tonight made me feel like life interrupted something special 18 years ago. Let's not let it interrupt us again.” I guess it wasn’t just me.
I think whatever happens tomorrow I’ll be fine. Next update will be after the will is read. Thanks for all the comments - honestly this is very cathartic - even the ugly ones.
*** UPDATE-ISH **\*
Ok - this morning has been crazy. There is too much to unpack here all at once and I'm supposed to go back in with Joe's attorneys in a few minutes. The family is mostly gone (I asked my dad to stay) and the firm is bringing in lunch shortly so we can keep working through the details.
Honestly, I don't know what to think. I know I promised an update and I'll try to get one out today, but more happened this morning than I can even think about getting down on paper. I haven't processed most of it myself and this afternoon sounds like it's going to be more of the same.
Some of you were right, and yes, there was drama. Also - I know I'm not going to be the asshole but I can already tell not everyone is going to feel the same way.
Side note - Sam called me this morning and told me not to let the property go no matter what. She even offered to help me pay for it while I figured things out. I've got a lot to talk to her about. I know I need to get to know the adult Sam and she needs to get to know me but for now it's good to have someone to talk to since I can't talk to Joe.
*** Update : Reading of the Will Part 1 - The Letter **\*
This day has been ridiculous. I'm sad, angry, honored, and humbled all at once, and processing that is harder than I thought it would be. I'm waiting on Sam to get done at the hospital – she’ll call me on the way here. I've got a lot to talk to her about and I haven’t told her anything yet. Let me first say that I'm not comfortable sharing the full details on everything going on right now but I won't hold back on the people side of things. I’m also going to have to break this up into a couple of posts I’m sure… sorry this is long but this is just how I journal.
As I mentioned already, the day started really well. Samantha called me first thing this morning - I didn't text her back last night because it was so late and I was really tired. I also wanted time to think about "us" (if there can even be an us already?) before I spoke with her again. I'm not a rash person. I've never been someone to rush into anything and frankly I've not had a serious relationship since Sam and I broke up. I've had a series of girlfriends, some that I loved in many ways, but no one that, in hindsight, I was "in love with".
Between trying to juggle school and the service, two deployments, and then the transition back to civilian life, I just wasn't that interested. Now that I'm back home and have settled in to a life and a sort-of career I've been ready to find someone but frankly I just haven't met anyone who I connect with on a level deeper than just shared interests.
When I woke up this morning I knew that something was different. Despite everything going, on my first thoughts weren't about the reading today, or losing Joe, they were about Sam. As much as I loved that feeling I know it's time to be cautious. I don't want to hurt Sam or frankly, to get hurt.
When she called I wasn't sure what she was going to say but I was honestly a little worried that we wouldn't be on the same page - I shouldn't have been. She told me she didn't want me to freak out about what she said, but that she also meant every word. She wanted me to understand that she isn’t into games, that she’s serious about seeing if the older versions of us are everything we’re both looking for. She wants to pick up where we left off 18 years ago but take it slowly, and get to know each other again. It sounds like we’re on the exact same page, so I guess I’m going steady with my high school girlfriend?
She also wanted me to not worry about the property – she offered to help me buy it if I needed to come up with the money quickly and that no matter what happened between us she didn’t want to see it broken up – that Joe meant too much to both of us to let that happen.
As kind as that was I went ahead called our local bank this morning to ask about getting a loan quickly if I needed one. The loan officer put me on hold when I explained the situation and the potential need to move quickly. He came back and said he had asked the bank president if there was any way they could help. He had been assured that there would be no issue securing any financing necessary. He asked the loan officer to pass along his condolences about Joe, he evidently had known him for a long time, and said that he was looking forward to meeting me soon.
This left me feeling much more comfortable going into the meeting with my family but nothing could have prepared me for the rest of the day. Now, if I’m being completely honest I really did feel like there was a good chance that Joe would leave the house and car to me simply because he didn’t have a relationship with anyone else in the family, I just didn’t want to make assumption and I didn’t feel like I was entitled to anything simply because of my relationship with Joe.
When I got to the firm’s offices I was shown in to their largest conference room. I was surprised to see several people there other than Joe’s attorney. My father was the only other person there when I arrived, he and the attorney were having a quiet conversation in at the head of the table but stopped when I walked in. Since I’m going to mention him frequently let’s just call Joe’s Attorney JA. JA introduced me to everyone in the room, which included a stenographer, an associate attorney, a gentleman he just referred to as an assistant brought in for the reading stood at the back of the room by the doors.
Now, readings themselves are a little uncommon these days, but still done on occasion (I typically do one or two a year), however I’ve never had anyone else in the room with me and thought this was very strange. I guess I must have been looking at JA with a funny expression because he just raised an eyebrow and shrugged. At about that time people started trickling in until 10:30 rolled around and JA stood and asked everyone to be seated. He then nodded to the gentleman that had been standing in the back who went to the doors where he closed and locked them.
In all there were 9 of us in the room, me, my father, his younger brother and oldest sister, my sister Sarah. Four of my cousins showed up, including my youngest, Emily who was one of the few people that I enjoyed seeing at family events. She’s creative and smart – she just graduated from high school and is getting ready to go to college. I was surprised that she came but I had spent a lot of time telling her about Joe over the last couple of years and had been hoping they’d get a chance to know each other now that she was older.
JA started speaking, thanking everyone for coming and sharing how much he was going to miss Joe, that he was more than a client, he was his oldest friend and he was glad to see at least a few family members come. About 10 minutes after 10:30 someone tried the door and found it locked. They started banging on it and the gentleman in the back quickly moved to open it and step outside. I could see my oldest brother and Aunt Debbie try to push in as he opened the door, only to be firmly moved back as he stepped outside to speak to them. JA stood quietly for a moment and everyone could hear raised voices coming through the heavy oak doors. I heard my brother say something to the effect of “this is bullshit” and Debbie started shrieking before it sounded like both of them were abruptly cut off. A moment later the doors re-opened and the gentleman came back in. Debbie and my brother were gone.
JA paused another moment and then carried on. He explained that Joe had instructed him to ensure that no one join after the meeting began – he told us he was now going to read a letter from Joe, this is a slightly edited copy of the letter he wrote that JA read from:
Thank you to those that showed up, since most of you never bothered to show up while I was alive I wasn’t sure you’d come today! Those that didn’t come, or couldn’t be bothered to on time aren’t missing anything since they aren’t going to be getting anything now anyway.
For the rest of you, thank you, no matter what your motivation was you at least showed up. I’ve left instructions for each of you to receive $100,000 as my final gift to the family. There are not stipulations and no conditions, have fun, do good, use it as your heart tells you. To those grand-nieces and nephews that are under the age of 18 and were not invited, I gift each of them $100,000, which will be held in trust until their 25th birthday.
(It was at this point that I knew something was up – Joe had just given away over a million dollars to people just for showing up on time. If everyone that had been invited had shown up it would have been over 2 million dollars – that was honestly more than I thought his entire estate would be worth.)
Family is important, something that has been lost of too many of you. Some of you got caught up the trappings that came from other people’s hard work, took for granted the efforts of your ancestors and squandered their gifts - and that’s what an inheritance is, a gift, not a right. You prioritized having fun over protecting the legacy so you could pass it on to the next generation.
Only one of you chose to put others before himself. Only one of you has shown respect and appreciation for the gifts of the land, the community that we live in, and the people that came before him, just as his namesake did.
Robert, I hope you’re here for this, we didn’t always agree, and I have so much regret about how our relationship went the wrong way, the fight with your father about his decisions and behavior, shouldn’t have become our fight as well. I want you to know how much I appreciate you bringing Alex into this family, for honoring my brother by passing on his name to him, and for allowing me to have a relationship with him. You’ll never know what that meant to me. I want you to know that I love you like a brother and wish I had tried harder to bridge the divide created by my relationship with your father while we still had time.
(I've never seen my father look so emotional. It was difficult to see the sadness in his eyes but I felt like I also saw pride. Watching him made me start to get emotional as well and I struggled to put my attention back on the reading)
With regard to the bulk of my estate, I leave all my possessions, the land, the house and its contents along with my investments and holdings to Alex. Alex, it will take time for you to go through everything and familiarize yourself with what this means. We’ve been planning this for almost 20 years, your training as a lawyer will be very helpful but pay attention to the advisors we’ve assembled. There will be decisions that must be made. I’ve asked (JA) to give you my journals, along with some thoughts I wanted to save just for you. Please read them and don’t feel like you’re intruding, they’re all that is left of me and I hope they’ll help guide you, my mistakes don’t have to be yours. Someday you may also want to share them with family, they are yours to do with as you wish, these too are part of my legacy.
Now, to the rest of the family, I know that you’ve sold off the land that my father left my brother and me. I know this because I’ve spent the last 50 years secretly buying up every acre you wanted to sell, or buying it back if I didn’t find out in time. I’ve preserved what you were willing to destroy and built on it. I know that most of you have very little left to pass on to your children. So, to you, my family, I leave a chance at a new legacy. I have established a family trust to be overseen and directed by Alex. The trust has been funded with $XX million dollars. It will be up to Alex to decide how the funds are used but he is to appoint a family board of advisors to help preserve our legacy.
Finally, I have established a community foundation, tasked with the mission of helping preserve the way of life that has made this valley special for hundreds of years. I’ve directed $XX million from the estate to create the initial fund but expect that others in the community will add to it. I’ve entrusted the responsibility to oversee this fund to Alex and a select group of community leaders. The others have already agreed to help and contribute, and I hope Alex will honor my wishes that he oversee the fund.
Alex, our family has been part of this valley for over 150 years. For all it has given to us it is now our responsibility to help sustain it and protect it. I know I can count on you to do everything you can to carry on this family’s legacy but beyond that, what I truly hope is that you don’t have to do it alone, as I did. You will always have my love, thank you for giving me yours.
JA looked up from the paper and for a heartbeat the silence was deafening, then the shouting began.
I’ve got to stop here – Sam is on her way and we have a lot to talk about. I was with the attorneys until 4pm. After all the drama unfolded (thank God my dad was there, and that Debbie didn’t show up on time) I still had to spend several hours with the attorneys. I’ll spend the weekend with the journals but I’m sure I’ll be hearing from family all weekend too. I might have to turn my phone off.
Part 2 will probably be tomorrow – I’m hoping to just decompress with Sam tonight. I need a break. Thank you everyone for the well wishes and the good thoughts.

Helly everyone first time I am writing here pls excuse any grammar mistakes. English is not my first language and I am not used to reddit, so pls bare with me. My(38F) father died recently and I am still in shock what happend during this time. But let me give you information about my fathers and my life before I explain the situation. And sorry for the wall of text but I have no one to talk about it.
My father(67m) and my mother were divorced since I was 7 years old. He had an affair with his now widow Mary(66F). They got married and during my teenagertime I lived with them because I was a Daddys Girl and I was often in fight with Mary because she always made clear that she didnt want me around. Her family and friends were always number one. My father didnt really intervene because he was financially dependent on her. For example she always went with the children of her friends on a shopping spree, watching movies and so on. And I was always left out. I really tried to suck it up but after a time living with them, I moved back to my mother and brother and had low contact, because she did everything that I cant see my father and he just took it.
As I got older perhaps I was about 28, I noticed that my fathers health condition was getting with every year worse, so I reconnect with them over the last 10 years. They bought a house together and lived their lives happily. During that time I also reconnected with Mary. I helped her taking care of the house and garden, went house sitting when they were on vacation, we cook together, I had many sleepovers there and for the first time I was so happy to have my father back in my life and get so well with Mary. This was like my second home.
Now what happend ? My father was dying and Mary just wrote a Message in the morning "Your father is dying please think of him" Unfortunately I didnt hear the notification and later I got a call from Marys best friend Susan(68F) she said "your father has now passed away, it was peacefully" I was shocked... I asked her "where is Mary ? why didnt she called me ? Susan just said that Mary cant talk right now - which I completely understand but why didnt she called me ? I couldnt be there for my fathers last moments. During this Mary didnt contacted me not a single time. So I talked to Susan and asked her if I could help ? Like doing the mails, helping in the house, and many other questions but everything was shut down by her. So I asked her just for curiostiy is there a last will ? And Susan went crazy. How dare that I asked that ? And that I am an inheritance sneaker ! I tried to calm her down that this is not my intention it was just a simple question and she went straight to Mary and told her how horrible I am and Mary believed her without doubt. I know this was kinda an inappropiate question but I just wanted to know it so that I can also try to help with correspondence, because Mary is very bad in making appointments and organizing.
Everything was now under Susans control. I had absolutely no right In the process of the funeral. I wasnt allowed to do a obituary, to book a cafe for after the funeral and I wasnt allowed to decide which urn my father will get and much more. On all decisions I was left out. I also wasnt allowed to contact Mary because Susan said everything is to hard for her. And Mary didnt reply to messages or calls. I cried every day and Mary and Susan didnt care. The whole funeral was a crapshow.. the eulogy for my father was so short and so little about him. All the talk was about Marys friends and family. How great they have helped her in the last few years. Guess who had a special part in the Eulogy ? Yep you guessed it ! Susan ! What a wonderful friend she is and was always there for my father and Mary. You wanna know if we children where mentioned ?Let me give you our part of it : "OPs Father left 2 Children behind. His daughter also lived with them for a while, Then the contact became less" Thats it. I was devastated... After the Funeral Mary walked to me and asked "what do you think ? The funeral was nice right ?" I just stared at her eyes mumbled something about "werent the 10 years I was there for you two nothing?" and leaved the place.
This whole situation with the funeral took a toll on me.. I almost cry every day but that was not the tip of the iceberg.. My father was a passionate Gamer and had a PC and guess who has it now ? You guessed it right again! Susan! I tried to talk with Mary to please give me the PC it has sentimental value for me, the PC is over 6 years old it is not Highend. I build the computer together with my father, I helped him all the time with it, I played with him online but she didnt care. I also tried to talk to Susan about it and she said right after I mentioned it "This is now MY PC your father gifted it to me 2 years ago you will not get it !" Again I was devastated and shocked. I now try to get a external harddrive out from it because this was mine so that I least have one memory. I also have to wait to get my compulsory share of inheritance. Mary didnt even contacted me once during the whole time. I am so sad and realize that maybe Mary still didnt liked me at all? And I dont wanna see both of them ever again.. And my attorney is involved. I feel just defeated and miss my father so much.
TLDR: My Stepmother who always had a problem with me gifted my deceased fathers pc to her best friend without talking to me first.

Dear (agent),
CRUEL MAGIC is an 88,000-word Adult Fantasy that blends the morally gray characters of This is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone with the enemies-to-lovers romance of To Kill A Kingdom by Alexandra Christo.
Myn has just gained an apprenticeship with the reclusive magician named Crow—but learning the magical arts is only a cover. Her true goal is to slit his throat, taking revenge for how he helped to drive her clan out of the kingdom years before.
Myn initially finds Crow to be a stern and unpleasant teacher, which only cements her desire to carry out the mission her clan has entrusted her with. After all, she’s killed before. But as the weeks pass and Crow slowly opens up to her, Myn starts to see him as more human. The late King used Crow’s magical abilities, which are incredibly rare, as a tool—much as Myn’s clan wants to use hers—and Myn begins to doubt that she can go through with her mission to kill him.
One night, soldiers sent by an unknown attacker try to assassinate Crow. As Myn and Crow try to find out who sent the assassins, as well as to protect each other from further attacks, the two of them begin to develop feelings for each other. And Myn faces a terrible choice. She can work with Crow, thus betraying her clan and the only home she has ever known. Or she can kill the man she loves—a man she has always thought of as the enemy—a man who is prickly, sarcastic, terribly scarred, and willing to take a spear through the hand to save her life.
(Bio)
Thank you for your consideration.
Sincerely, me
Chapter 1. The Crow
Most of Myn’s family had died long ago. Her mother and father were fragments lost in the past, smoke escaping through holes in her memory. She had only her aunt, uncle, great-aunt, cousins, and a few dozen other stragglers from the once-proud Rimena who now lay scattered like a handful of dirt over the rocky hills of Lorlas.
Growing up, Myn knew little of what lay beyond the river that separated Lorlas—the area known to the kingdom as the Wild Lands—from the kingdom of Xianthe. All she knew was that when the wind blew from the south, the air brought with it a charred scent, like the remnants of a cook-fire, mixed with something sharp and silvery. The way the stars might smell, if they were close enough.
One day, when Myn was little, and the wind was blowing from the south: “That’s Crow’s scent,” her aunt Lila said, wrinkling her nose. But Lila did not turn from the wind. She let it gust through her hair, lifting the greasy strands like the touch of a lover, and when she narrowed her eyes, Myn thought she saw tears in them.
Myn was so young then that she came to believe there was really an enormous bird living beyond the river. For months she went to sleep thinking of it and woke still half-dreaming, with the rustle of wings at the back of her mind. She imagined it rising up in the distance, black and enormous, a living mountain that blocked out the sun. When it flapped its wings, a howling storm arose: trees bending and creaking, wind snarling in their branches, leaves scattered everywhere like desiccated ghosts.
Despite the bird’s ferocity, Myn’s dreams about it never scared her. Her primary emotion, upon waking, was a sense of awe. It seemed impossible that she could feel otherwise about this mighty bird: its feathers that shone with a watery dark, its brilliant pebble eyes, its proud and hideous beak.
…..^{^} Immediately after that first 300 ends, we jump ahead to the present day when Myn is 20 years old, so I don’t want you to get the idea that the part when she was a little girl goes on forever. (But I may have made a terrible mistake anyway.)
It’s basically too late for this query anyway cause I’ve already queried 60 agents…..Because my small press essentially forced my hand by offering on it before I’d even polished my query — but that was my fault for sending them the dang manuscript when they asked for it. 🤦‍♀️
Anyway, any thoughts on why this failed (no full requests, already 1/3 of the list have stepped away and I have the feeling the rest simply won’t answer) would be helpful. Thanks.
Also - the typical advice is “work on the next project” but since I’ve written 11 books so far, I’m beginning to think there is some fatal flaw baked into the very bones of my writing that is the reason I’ll never be trad published. And that it’s not something I can easily fix by simply moving on to the next (10,000th) project.

"When He Was Wicked" by Julia Quinn is a historical romance novel set in Regency England. The story follows the unexpected love affair between Michael Stirling and Francesca Bridgerton, the widow of Michael's cousin. Their romance is complicated by guilt, longing, and societal expectations. Quinn's writing style is engaging, and she skillfully weaves together passion and emotion. The novel is praised for its strong character development and captivating storyline, making it a compelling read for fans of historical romance.
Listen for free at link in sidebar

Carl von Clausewitz

01 June 1780 to 16 November 1831
Part of a Series on the Philosophy of History
Carl von Clausewitz’s Moral Science of Warfare
Saturday 01 June 2024 is the 244th anniversary of the birth of Carl von Clausewitz (01 June 1780 to 16 November 1831), who was born on this date in Burg bei Magdeburg in 1780. (Wikipedia says that Clausewitz was born on the first of July, rather than June, but it’s possible to find pictures of Clausewitz’s grave marker, which gives his birth date as the first of June, so I will take this date as definitive.)
Clausewitz is remembered as the philosopher of war, and I have many times said that the philosophy of war and the philosophy of history are close cousins. If we hold that war is the motor that drives history forward, which many philosophers have argued, then was is the causal mechanism by which history is realized. Hegel and Marx in particular are associated with this view. We could even say that war is the reality of which history is the appearance.
And Clausewitz knew war. It was during the Napoleonic Wars that Clausewitz experienced his baptism by fire, so that his book On War is an account of war during the Napoleonic wars, and it is from On War that a mature conception of war has evolved and continues to evolve. By a “mature conception” I mean a theoretically mature conception of war. Since war inflames passions and feeds off irrationality, it can be difficult to engage with the topic of war with the requisite scientific disinterestedness. Clausewitz was the first to bring the attitude to the Enlightenment to war, and to seek to understand war as a rational process. One could argue that Hegel was doing something like this from a philosophical perspective at about the same time, but Clausewitz was a soldier with intellectual interests, while Hegel was a philosopher with an interest in history. The results were bound to be very different, and they were.
Also, Clausewitz’s understanding of Enlightenment rationalism took place when the romantic reaction against Enlightenment rationalism was already well underway, so, again Clausewitzs rationalism was bound to differ from the high Enlightenment representatives like Gibbon, Hume, and Condorcet. It might even be argued that the changes to Enlightenment rationalism that followed from the romantic reaction facilitated the very possibility of applying scientific reason to an object of knowledge as apparently irrational as war. There is an excellent book about post-Enlightenment science, The Age of Wonder: How the Romantic Generation Discovered the Beauty and Terror of Science by Richard Holmes, that tells the story of the development of science during the romantic era. Holmes doesn’t discuss Clausewitz, but it would have fit nicely into the narrative.
As the scientific revolution continued to unfold, new influences came to bear upon the development of science, and this in turn opened up scientific knowledge to further frontiers. Clausewitz reflects both Enlightenment and romantic epistemic imperatives. We can find in Clausewitz an intimation of the distinction between nomothetic and idiographic science:

“One may laugh at these reflections and consider them utopian dreams, but one would do so at the expense of philosophic truth. Philosophy teaches us to recognize the relations that essential elements bear to one another, and it would indeed be rash from this to deduce universal laws governing every single case, regardless of all haphazard influences. Those people, however, who ‘never rise above anecdote’ as a great writer said, and who would construct all history of individual cases-starting always with the most striking feature, the high point of the event, and digging only as deep as suits them, never get down to the general factors that govern the matter. Consequently their findings will never be valid for more than a single case; indeed they will consider a philosophy that encompasses the general run of cases as a mere dream.” (On War, Book Six, p. 374)

This is still true today for those who insist that history is exclusively idiographic. In another work, The Campaign of 1812 in Russia (1823 - 1825), Clausewitz gave an account of history that seems highly idiographic, but which does not necessarily exclude the possibility of assimilating events to a nomothetic explanation:

“Although we are not inclined to see the events of this world as resulting from individual causes but always take them as the complex product of many forces, so that the loss of a single component can never produce a complete reversal {but only a partial transformation relative to the significance of the component}, we must nevertheless recognize that great results have often arisen from seemingly small events, and that an isolated cause, strongly exposed to the workings of chance, often brings forth universal effects.” (Chapter V, From The Campaign of 1812 in Russia (1823 - 1825))

Clausewitz had enough of the Enlightenment in him that he looked for the relations that essential elements bear to one another in war, and he was enough of a romantic that he recognized that it would be rash to deduce universal laws governing every single case. So should the study of war be idiographic or nomothetic? As I read Clausewitz, it’s a little of both, and it needs to be a little of both. As our theoretical framework for understanding war increases in sophistication and detail, we might be able to assimilate more individual cases to universal laws, but we won’t exhaust individual cases any time soon.
In an introductory essay to the English translation of On War by Peter Paret we find this description of Clausewitz’s intellectual independence, which was probably a necessary condition for this project:

“…important for our purpose is the intellectual independence with which he approached the fundamental military issues of the age, as well as his sympathy with the aims of humanistic education, and his conviction that the study of history must be at the center of any advanced study of war.” (p. 8)

Clausewitz himself makes the importance of history explicit:

“While there may be no system, and no mechanical way of recognizing the truth, truth does exist. To recognize it one generally needs seasoned judgment and an instinct born of long experience. While history may yield no formula, it does provide an exercise for judgment here as everywhere else.”

Clausewitz is here making a logical point that would later, in the twentieth century, be recognized as the decision problem. A whole series of metalogical theorems on decidability have been proved for various calculi. The problem is to determine a yes or no answer to a question about a theorem, for example, whether or not a given proposition is a theorem of a given system. History is of course much too complex to be reduced to any calculus, so no currently conceivable decision procedure is out of reach for history.
Even if history provides us with no formulae, it still can be a source of insight and judgment. Clausewitz elsewhere in On War goes even further and seems to deny that systemic study could be effective:

“History provides the strongest proof of the importance of moral factors and their often incredible effect: this is the noblest and most solid nourishment that the mind of a general may draw from a study of the past. Parenthetically, it should be noted that the seeds of wisdom that are to bear fruit in the intellect are sown less by critical studies and learned monographs than by insights, broad impressions, and flashes of intuition.” (On War)

Given the state of our knowledge of history, Clausewitz is probably right about this, and we have to mostly depend on insight, impressions, and intuition. However, I would argue that Clausewitz leaves this problem open-ended, especially in light of the earlier quote in which he mentions rising above anecdotes, as insights, impressions, and intuitions without even the possibility of assimilating these to general laws would amount to little more than anecdote, which Clausewitz explicitly says we must rise above.
There is another sense in which we can say that history informs our theoretical conceptions. Raymond Aron wrote a study of Clausewitz, Clausewitz: Philosopher of War, in which he makes an interesting observation:

“In his youth, he introduced moral forces into his theory; in his maturity, he introduced the conceptual distinction needed to reconcile the transhistoric theory with history, in other words the two extreme forms of war, each one conditioned or determined by circumstances or political intentions. In order to establish the equality of status in the two types of war, he had to recognize the unreality of absolute war which in many texts he represented as the only one consistent with the concept.”

Aron is suggesting that Clausewitz’s chief theoretical conception, absolute war, was unreal, but that it is conditioned and determined by historical circumstances. For Aron, history was the force that made theory responsive to practice. This is not all that different from the saying attributed to Thucydides, viz. that history is philosophy teaching by example. Thucydides also said that war is a stern master, and it brings men down to the level of their circumstances. Clausewitz knew this first hand, and when the lessons that philosophy teaches are the lessons of men being humbled despite the pretences to some higher position in the world, then we have been well and truly humbled.
We could call Thucydides’ observation about war being a stern master the Copernican principle of war, because it forces all participants into a recognition of their smallness within and peripherality to the bigger picture. Clausewitz himself had his share of Thucydides’ Copernican principle of war. He was in the thick of things during the Napoleonic wars, serving as aide-de-camp to Prince Augustus Ferdinand of Prussia at the Battle of Jena-Auerstadt on 14 October 1806, where Hegel had glimpsed Napoleon and called him the world-spirit on horseback. Hegel fled Jena carrying the manuscript of his Phenomenology of Mind. Clausewitz was taken prisoner of war along with 25,000 others and spent two years as a prisoner of war in France after the catastrophic defeat of the Prussians at Jena. So Clausewitz experienced war as a stern master and he knew the bitterness of total defeat.
Fichte had also felt the weight of the German defeat by the French. In my episode on Fichte I talked about how he had given a series of public lectures subsequently published as Addresses to a German Nation. When Fichte was delivering this talk he is quoted as having said:

“I know very well what I risk; I know that a bullet may kill me, like Palm; but it is not this that I fear, and for my cause I would gladly die.”

War was also a stern master to Fichte; even those who were not soldiers like Clausewitz risked all. Like Fichte, Clausewitz believed that his people could rally, overcome defeat, and eventually regain their political autonomy. Machiavelli, too, had known defeat and had seen his people humiliated by an occupying force, which was also the French, but several hundred years earlier. Fichte wrote an essay about Machiavelli, which, after Clausewitz read it, he sent a letter to Fichte about his Machiavelli essay. In Clausewitz’s letter to Fichte he wrote this:

“This true spirit of war seems to me to consist in mobilizing the energies of every soldier to the greatest possible extent and in infusing him with warlike feelings, so that the fire of war spreads to every component of the army instead of leaving numerous dead coals in the mass. To the extent that this depends on the art of war, it is achieved by the manner in which the individual is treated, but even more by the manner in which he is employed. The modern art of war, far from using men like simple machines, should vitalize individual energies as far as the nature of its weapons permits—which, to be sure, establishes a limit, for an essential condition of large forces is to have the kind of organization that permits them to be led by a rational will without excessive friction.” (Letter to Fichte)

For Clausewitz, friction was a technical term. He wrote an entire chapter on friction in On War, saying, among much else:

“Friction is the only concept that more or less corresponds to the factors that distinguish real war from war on paper. The military machine—the army and everything related to it—is basically very simple and therefore seems easy to manage. But we should bear in mind that none of its components is of one piece: each part is composed of individuals, every one of whom retains his potential of friction.” (On War)

Returning to the previous quote, Clausewitz names three conditions of modern war as: 1) mobilizing the energies of individual soldiers, 2) leading them with a rational will, and 3) doing so without excessive friction. We don’t have to strain too much to see these conditions of modern war as conditions of the possibility of mass warfare that was eventually realized as the First World War, which I also call the first planetary-scale industrial war.
Clausewitz, fighting in the Napoleonic wars, was positioned to see the prehistory of industrialized warfare. A hundred years later, the prehistory of industrialized warfare eventually morphed into the history of industrial warfare in the strict sense. In my episode on Ernst Jünger I described industrialized warfare as a boundary condition out of which novel forms of modernity emerge. In particular, mechanized warfare is a boundary condition for an emergent form of heroism distinctive to mechanized warfare. Something qualitatively new had appeared in history, and this novel emergent generated a cluster of other emergents for which mechanized warfare was the boundary condition.
The conditions that Clausewitz described were the boundary conditions for industrialized warfare. Ernst Jünger was positioned to see and describe the emergence of true industrialized warfare, as Clausewitz was positioned to see its prehistory. The two authors testify to distinct periods in the development of planetary-scale industrialized warfare. This is a development that continues today, and continues to generate philosophical commentary on the novel emergents that have appeared in history as a result of industrialized warfare.
Today is not only the birthday of Clausewitz, it is also the 117th anniversary of the birth of Jan Patočka (01 June 1907 – 13 March 1977), who was born in Turnov, Bohemia, on this date in 1907. Patočka wrote a book on philosophy of history, Heretical Essays in the Philosophy of History, which was influenced by Husserl, Heidegger, and Hannah Arendt, among others. In the Fifth Essay: Is Technological Civilization Decadent, and Why? And especially in the Sixth Essay: Wars of the Twentieth Century and the Twentieth Century as War, Patočka discussed Ernst Jünger. I mentioned in my episode on Jünger that Jünger’s essay on total mobilization and his book The Worker was an influence on Heidegger, and Patočka too is interested in this work. Patočka’s description of the industrialization of Germany gives us the rational will and the organizational expertise to overcome the friction that Clausewitz saw as conditions of modern war:

“…Germany, for all its traditional structures, is the configuration that most closely approximated the reality of the new technoscientific age. Even its conservatism basically served a discipline that, contemptuous of equalization and democratization, vehemently and ruthlessly pursued the accumulation of building, organizing, transforming energy. Ernst Junger’s Der Arbeiter contains an implicit suspicion of the actual revolutionary nature of the old prewar Germany.! It is above all the ever deepening technoscientific aspect of its life. It is the organizing will of its economic leaders, its technocratic representatives forging plans leading inevitably to a conflict with the existing global order.”

Patočka also saw the orgiastic craziness of modern war that facilitated the mobilization of the energy of individual soldiers:

“War as a global ‘anything goes,’ a wild freedom, takes hold of states, becoming ‘total.’ The same hand stages orgies and organizes everydayness. The author of the five-year plans is at the same time the author of orchestrated show trials in a new witch hunt. War is simultaneously the greatest undertaking of industrial civilization, both product and instrument of total mobilization (as Ernst Jünger rightly saw), and a release of orgiastic potentials which could not afford such extreme of intoxication with destruction under any other circumstances. Already at the dawn of modernity, at the time of the wars of religion in the sixteenth. and seventeenth centuries, that kind of cruelty and orgiasm emerged. Already then it was the fruit of a disintegration of traditional discipline and demonization of the opponent though never before did the demonic reach its peak precisely in an age of greatest sobriety and rationality.”

It took the scientific and managerial resources of industrialized civilization—which Patočka and others call “technoscience”—to tame, and direct, and organize the orgiastic fury that was earlier released during the religious wars of the early modern period. I suspect that Junger would have largely agreed with this if he had read Patočka, and he could have read this since he lived longer than Patočka. It’s a bit more difficult to ascertain what Clausewitz would have thought of this.
To a certain extent it’s counter-intuitive to understand this orgiastic fury of warfare that Patočka described as a moral factor of war. We would perhaps like to think of the morality of war in terms of the various treaties like the Geneva Conventions that have attempted to moderate the brutality of armed conflict, or maybe the older framework of St. Augustines conception of a “just war.” There is, however, a wider sense of the use of the word “moral.” This wider sense of moral is less common that in the past. One could even say that this usage is becoming archaic. This is definitely is case with the idea of what were once called the moral sciences.The OED defines the moral sciences as:

(a) Those branches of knowledge which deal with the criteria of right and wrong;
(b) Cambridge University politics, philosophy, and economics, as a course of study.

This is now a defunct and archaic way to refer to the humanities and the social sciences. I suspect few if any university catalogs continue to use the moral sciences as a major division of the curriculum. But the idea of the moral sciences points to a wider sense of the term moral, and that is anything that engages specifically human responses to the world like politics, philosophy, and economics. In this context, moral doesn’t necessarily involve right and wrong, but it does involve what is human, all-too-human.
The Clausewitzean conception of war, which, as Raymond Aron said, was about introducing moral forces into our understanding of war, makes the study of war a moral science in this now archaic usage of “moral.” Clausewitz’s moral science of war is very close to what Ernst Jünger wrote about war being ultimately a spiritual endeavor. Patočka underlines this by recognizing the many social forces that came together to produce the wars of the twentieth century. Earlier I said that many philosophers have understood war as the engine that drives history forward. Patočka comes close to saying as much further along in his discussion of Jünger’s work:

“The first world war is the decisive event in the history of the twentieth century. It determined its entire character. It was this war that demonstrated that the transformation of the world into a laboratory for releasing reserves of energy accumulated over billions of years can be achieved only by means of wars. Thus it represented a definitive breakthrough of the conception of being that was born in the sixteenth century with the rise of mechanical natural science. Now it swept aside all the ‘conventions’ that inhibited this release of energy—a transvaluation of all values under the sign of power.” (Heretical Essays in the Philosophy of History, Sixth Essay, p. 124)

Clausewitz lived before this radical transvaluation of values, which is a phrase that Patočka has picked up from Nietzsche. Clausewitz belonged to the social order that was subsequently lost to the transvaluation of all values under the sign of power. He was there for the first stirrings of this transvaluation, but he did not see the completed arc of its development. Clausewitz’s traditionalism can be glimpsed in a document Clausewitz wrote in 1812—titled “Political Declaration” and published in Carl Von Clausewitz: Historical and Political Writings. Clausewitz wrote in the present tense, as a participant in historical events whose outcome was unknown as he wrote this account:

“The hatred that Napoleon bears toward the House of Hohenzollern is of course not obvious to everyone and not at all easy to explain. For some, however, it will be enough to know that at Tilsit a contemptuous coldness, indeed a suppressed hatred, could not be missed in the emperor’s personal conduct toward Frederick William III and his family, while the royal family's conduct toward Napoleon (thanks to a sense of dignity undiminished by politics!) had a more worthy and dignified bearing, which can of course enrage a vain and passionate man even more. There are also specific facts whose significance cannot be mistaken. The basis of Napoleon’s enmity probably lies above all in the liberality that characterizes the Prussian regime, which has attracted attention throughout Germany. Prussia, and particularly her ruling house, has public opinion on her side more than other states, and Napoleon is deeply hostile to this. The south German princes may be weary of French domination, but they have never been independent, they fear the vengeance of outsiders, and are without pride and self-esteem, half admirers and half flatterers of the French emperor. This is not the case with Frederick William III. This king, as everyone knows, is above all an upright man, incapable of hypocrisy: hatred of the French emperor is natural to him, and since he is sensitive and easily offended, his feelings are constantly inflamed by Napoleon’s abuses and can never grow numb. If he has refrained from expressing those feelings for political reasons (great self-possession being natural to him in any case), if he has admirably sacrificed his own dignity and that of his people in this regard, his reticence could never deceive the French emperor, and nothing is more natural than that Napoleon should have seen more deeply into the king’s heart than the king has into his.”

Here Napoleon is the upstart emperor who lacks the depth of dignity that the ancient family of the Hohenzollern possessed. Napoleon knew this, resented it, and the Napoleonic wars were one big cope-and-seethe because of it. The Hohenzollern represent the traditional aristocratic privilege that the French Revolution sought to overturn, and yet Napoleon and the Hohenzollerns found themselves forced into this diplomatic accommodation that both probably found distasteful. Napoleon was drawn into these ancient diplomatic traditions that the Revolution was in the process of sweeping away.
Not only was Napoleon draw into these ancient rituals of diplomacy, in having himself crowned emperor, he was effectively giving new life to these institutions, and the Hohenzollerns were drawn into paying their respects to a representative of the Revolution that would have done with them. For Clausewitz, the Hohenzollerns were an ancient aristocratic family reforming themselves and their kingdom along liberal lines, while Napoleon was the symbol of revolutionary change that threatened the established order of Europe. Patočka understood this, which why, in my earlier quote from him, he discussed the quasi-traditional, but, at the same time, the quasi-revolutionary nature of Imperial Germany, and Jünger’s response to this. This is not something I am prepared to exhaustively sort out, so I will leave it there for the moment.

Video Presentation

https://youtu.be/MAXr5Ze4bQg
https://www.instagram.com/p/C7s7dsjNGk5/
https://odysee.com/@Geopolicraticus:7/carl-von-clausewitz%E2%80%99s-moral-science-of:f

Podcast Edition

https://spotifyanchor-web.app.link/e/NHFPd3MM5Jb
https://music.amazon.com/podcasts/a31b8276-53cd-4723-b6ad-a39c8faa4572/episodes/a59ed23b-eeb4-4469-9380-952a76bcba08/today-in-philosophy-of-history-carl-von-clausewitz%E2%80%99s-moral-science-of-warfare
https://www.iheart.com/podcast/269-today-in-philosophy-of-his-146507578/episode/carl-von-clausewitzs-moral-science-of-181857506/
​
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11th moon, 25 AC, Kings’Landing, Serala’s residence
It had been some time since the feast. Shaera being distracted by something or other, someone. Brea stuck up on her notes, Bessaro confining himself to the deepest corner of his bedroom, Bambarro watching the window. It was only Ayrmidon who wasn’t often present.
Serala had been brewing green tea while waiting for the girls to gather. She needed an update of what had happened at the feast, specifically about who they engaged with.
Her cousin could be heard behind the doors, chittering about a man, presumably to Brea. ”He is nothing near disrespectful or ill intended, he is compassionate, honourable and comforting to be around quite frankly.” Shaera said as she opened the doors. She wore a long sleeved red dress made from Volantis. “Serala.” Shaera greeted her with a nod.
Everyone spoke either High Valyrian, Lyseni or Volantene. None of them besides Shaera enjoyed the common tongue.
Brea had entered not long after her cousin. She was more silent and still attending her notes, not even greeting her sister in that regard. She sat down on one of the chairs around the table. Brea wore a cream yellow dress, selfmade of course.
“Glad you could get out of your hole, sister.” Serala didn’t accept the slightest of disrespect, finding herself higher than her. “Did you leave your manners in your bed, or are they all written up in your writing?” She said as Shaera sat down as well.
“How’s that Raven of yours doing, Gaelithox?” Shaera interfered. “Quite the beauté, you should take him out more often!”
”perhaps she should take herself out.” Brea mumbled, hiding her mouth behind her notebook. She was directly looking at Serala though.
Making her way to the table with the tea pot in her hand and her eyes narrowed. ”Even though i like bickering with your dull demeanour, we have important things to discuss.” Serala said as she was filling their cups halfway with tea. “The feast that is..l”

Hi everyone, would be super grateful for any advice/feedback on my query attempt below!
Dear X,
I’m excited to submit for your consideration, Eulogy for the Mad Queen, an adult sapphic fantasy set in a world inspired by the far east. Complete at 98k words, this is a standalone piece, with series potential.
Princess Rian dreams of becoming a celebrated engineer. So long as she works hard and does not let magic steal her mind, she should have a chance. That is until the Empire of Taitun attacks. Wrenched from her scholarly aspirations and relegated to the status of a peace offering, a terrified Rian finds herself bound for the emperor’s harem. Taitun is tempted by her dowry; a divine relic of immense, magical power. However, the Gods do not deem her worthy of their power and the emperor refuses to accept her until she proves her worth.
Stranded in a violent land and surrounded by scheming courtiers, Rian struggles to make any moves without attracting unwanted attention. Her magic of purpose will help her survive, but every use costs a little more of her already unravelling mind. If she is to have a real chance at finding her worth and saving her homeland, Rian must swallow her pride and accept aid from the wicked creature who started it all; the emperor’s devious yet frustratingly alluring daughter, Toksa.
Combining a story of female empowerment with diverse settings, star-crossed lovers and fast-paced action, my work should appeal to fans of Kuang’s Poppy War and Kristoff’s Nevernight Chronicles. [personalisation to agent]
My wish as an author is to add another authentic, minority voice to the growing chorus. I want to create connections with both those whose experiences are underrepresented, and those who want to explore something new, by bringing them along on fun and thought-provoking adventures. In addition to writing, I love making artwork of my world, music, and fancy foods.
First 300:
Saranq was the City of Three Wonders. As the rickety dinghy drew her ever closer, Toksa found herself wondering if this title would have merit. She shuddered to remember the City of a Thousand Lights; more like a hundred-or-so moth-eaten lanterns. Little border towns were often wont to dress in fancy titles. But like clay dolls in silk dresses, one need only knock to know if they were hollow.
That was why she had come. To give the place a good, firm knock. Toksa traced the outline of the short scabbard hidden beneath her silk skirts. Her palms ached for the hilt. Not long now.
Or so she hoped. The boat ride upriver through Century Canyon marked the final leg of their two-week journey to the Rhesan border city, but the going was slow; the Rhesans rowed with all the vigour of rice paper cut-outs. The true wonder of Saranq, in Toksa’s opinion, was that the Rhesans had managed to build it at all.
She snickered at that. She should tell Bruggs. Maybe finally crack a smile on that leathery face.
Bruggs however, only frowned. “Your highness, the River Arches can be cruel, it is wise to travel with caution.” Of course, Bruggs’ only funny bone had been knocked out of him twenty years ago on his first campaign.
“I hate to delay,” she grumbled.
“Try to enjoy the journey, Century Canyon is famed for its beauty.”
Jamar had said the same. He’d told her the canyon was all dazzling cliffs of limestone and wild, luscious jungle. He’d said the Arches was as an emerald seadrake, churning with power and sparkling with flying fish.
Jamar, Toksa decided, was a filthy liar. The river she saw was a great, moulting snake, grey and lethargic.

I (F,26) moved in with extended family (my uncle (55,M) and cousin (30,M)) over a year ago because I was completing uni placement and they don’t pay. I have now finished and am job seeking.
I have quite significant anxiety and PTSD from an unpredictable and unsafe home life growing up (they are not in my life now). But I experience residual stress from it. I think the fact that my housemates are both males exacerbates this a bit too. For the past few years I was able to live alone and thrived by the calmness and feelings of peace I’d never had before.
Now I live with family. My uncle is helicopter-y and I feel monitored constantly. I am aware he has gone into my room while I’m not there. He is naturally nosey and is on the spectrum.
I have a history of depression and was quite unwell at the end of last year. Now, I’m doing much better with medication shifts on that front but don’t want to socialise at home. I find it overbearing and would get comments if I didn’t come out to say hi when my uncle gets home every night. I understand this definitely comes from a place of love and concern but he was this way prior to me being unwell too.
I think I felt pushed and pushed to the point where I completely cut myself off from socialising for the past two months. I get food in the morning before they wake up and sneak around so there are no run ins. I think the more time has gone on the more anxious I am to run into them because I know I’ll get the questioning and interrogation about how I am like has happened in the past if I hadn’t seen them for a day or two.
I have been told by another family member that I am stressing the hell out of them and I feel horrible. I haven’t communicated and I just isolated out of the blue. I want to explain myself and gradually increase socialisation but I don’t know how to go about it. I want to write a letter but I don’t know what to say. Advice? How do I tell them I’m fine but I just don’t want to socialise to their levels because it stresses me to no end.

I (F,26) moved in with extended family (my uncle (55,M) and cousin (30,M)) over a year ago because I was completing uni placement and they don’t pay. I have now finished and am job seeking.
I have quite significant anxiety and PTSD from an unpredictable and unsafe home life growing up (they are not in my life now). But I experience residual stress from it. I think the fact that my housemates are both males exacerbates this a bit too. For the past few years I was able to live alone and thrived by the calmness and feelings of peace I’d never had before.
Now I live with family. My uncle is helicopter-y and I feel monitored constantly. I am aware he has gone into my room while I’m not there. He is naturally nosey and is on the spectrum.
I have a history of depression and was quite unwell at the end of last year. Now, I’m doing much better with medication shifts on that front but don’t want to socialise at home. I find it overbearing and would get comments if I didn’t come out to say hi when my uncle gets home every night. I understand this definitely comes from a place of love and concern but he was this way prior to me being unwell too.
I think I felt pushed and pushed to the point where I completely cut myself off from socialising for the past two months. I get food in the morning before they wake up and sneak around so there are no run ins. I think the more time has gone on the more anxious I am to run into them because I know I’ll get the questioning and interrogation about how I am like has happened in the past if I hadn’t seen them for a day or two.
I have been told by another family member that I am stressing the hell out of them and I feel horrible. I haven’t communicated and I just isolated out of the blue. I want to explain myself and gradually increase socialisation but I don’t know how to go about it. I want to write a letter but I don’t know what to say. Advice? How do I tell them I’m fine but I just don’t want to socialise to their levels because it stresses me to no end.

I am having one of the worst nights ever and really need to rant about this to try and make me feel better. Trigger warning that this is an upsetting post. Yesterday was my husband’s cousin’s high school graduation so we left our house yesterday at 2pm-ish to be there in time and we were staying the weekend and spend it with family. Before we left we made sure to set the AC for 72°F so that the pets wouldn’t be too hot. Today around noon my partner and I checked our pet came that was set up (we recently got a new banded gecko and wanted to be able to check in on him) and realized our gecko was in a strange position. We kept an eye on it throughout the day because he doesn’t move much during daylight however as night approached he was still not moving. My husband and I decided to head home early to check on him as we were very concerned. The drive was quite long and we didn’t get home until about 11:45pm. As we opened the door to our apartment we realized it was VERY hot in the apartment, over 95°F. Our poor baby banded gecko did not make it and neither did our goldfish. We have been rushing around cooling down the apartment and other pets. At this time everyone else seems to be okay and we were able to put in an old AC unit that we owned from our old place. I think the part that pisses me off the most is that the so called emergency maintenance man told us that he could do nothing and to “have a good night”. He is lucky that my partner was the one on the phone. I am beside myself upset and have no one I can reach out to for support. My hope is by writing this post I can get out some of my anger around the situation.
Also just a note that about a week or so ago the apartment complex did checks to “make sure everything was in working order” yet my AC that was set to 72°F somehow malfunctioned and created a sauna in my apartment.

Hey there, fellow Rockstar Handymen/Handywoman!
First off, thanks for taking a moment to hear me out. Even though we’re strangers, it's past 11 PM on the East Coast, and I’ve had a full day working on projects and doing estimates, I’m buzzing with energy. Why? Because I know how crucial it is for us to have a space where the real pros separate from the amateurs.
Welcome to the club! Please, slip on your booties or take off your shoes. You know the drill. 😂 Make yourself at home. We’ve got liquor and beer at the bar, and if you prefer to smoke doobies, our backyard is your haven. Just give me a heads-up if you’re heading out there.😉 Remember, I’m writing this on a Saturday night, so if you’re reading this on a Monday night, maybe save those activities for the weekend and stay focused!
A little about me... I grew up in NYC, the son of a building superintendent/handyman since I was about 8 years old (turning 45 this summer). My family is a crew of skilled craftsmen: my brother, an epoxy floor specialist; my cousin, an ornamental iron specialist; another cousin, a woodworker; and another, a tile specialist. It’s in the blood. I didn’t specialize; I became a jack of all trades but master of none, learning from incredibly talented people.
For years, I treated my handyman service as a side hustle. In 2012, I got hooked on leveraging the internet to grow businesses through branding, marketing, advertising, sales, customer service, and more. I grew a few businesses from scratch with these skills, even stepping away from handyman services for a while. Then, after my partner and I parted ways, I needed a quick way to make money without getting a job. Naturally, I turned back to my handyman service.
I applied everything I learned into building a professional handyman business. By the third month, I was hitting over $10K a month. It’s easier to achieve in big cities. I provide great quality work, but my invoicing success came from knowing how to leverage our tools to stand out and attract clients powerfully.
Fast forward to June 2023, I relocated to Orlando. Sold my NYC business and started fresh in Florida. Within a week, I had my first client, and by the third month, I was almost at $7K that month, despite dropping my prices by 30% to match market rates. 😡
Enough about me. This is about us. I’m thrilled to share the “secrets” I’ve discovered that big companies (Thumbtack, HomeAdvisor, etc.) use to capture our clients and then sell them to us. My goal is to spread awareness in the pro handyman community about the power we have to build something we can be proud of and to be a support system when things go awry. The more we learn from each other, the stronger we’ll be.
I firmly believe a well-structured handyman business can easily generate six figures a year. The opportunity is massive for all of us. Here, we fill in all the gaps together.
Now, I want to hear from all you handyman rockstars: Where do you serve, and how long have you been providing services?
Don’t be shy!
Remember, closed mouths don’t get fed.
Have an incredibly awesome day! I insist!
AceOnHand - Handyman Extraordinaire / Internet Savvy / Saturday Night Rambler

Thank you guys for all your nice comments on my previous post! Here's my followup post walking through the anthology - I apologize for the delay, but I wanted to sit with this half of the album a bit longer. This analysis will be slightly different: first I’ll go through themes present throughout the anthology, and then walk through each song individually, since it’s not as consecutive of a story as the first album. As with my first analysis, I tend to also stay away from literal details as proof that a song is about a certain subject or muse – to me, it’s easier to understand the album when you think first about what the song’s overarching meaning is, rather than getting caught up in literal details (and I think Taylor often throws these in as red herrings). Moreover, it’s important to note that it’s likely that the literal detail she’s thrown in is one that only she and the muse will understand (i.e. her referencing a lilac skirt in imgonnagetyouback is unlikely to be one we’ve ever seen her wearing in public, so it’s useless to paternity test based on that detail!).
Firstly, the word anthology means a collection of assorted literary works. As a result, I think there are more themes scattered through this album, and it’s meant to be a little harder to parse than the first one. I think this album is what TTPD would have been before it crystallized into a tighter theme – similar to the 3 AM tracks for Midnights, the majority of which were written prior to the standard edition’s tracks.
There are a few themes throughout this album. From a romantic context, to me, this album is primarily about Joe. I’ll walk through why I believe that, but this album feels less muddled to me in terms of its muses, and I think that is in part due to the fact that her self-described mania from the standard edition is not a theme on the anthology. This work also covers her own relationship to celebrity and fame, and how that affects her romantic relationships and her personal life in general. And finally, I think the final theme throughout this collection is the idea of childhood, of formative experiences, and how our author goes about processing events that happen to her.
The Black Dog
What happens when you intimately know someone, when you share every aspect of your life with someone, and then it's over? Six weeks after their breakup, she’s barely holding it together (“I move through the world with the heartbroken”). She even tried to rebound her pain away (“I took the miracle move on drug, the effects were temporary”), and wasn’t able to succeed. Meanwhile, she sees him go to a bar, and she has the sudden realization that he may be able to do what she failed to do – he might be able to move on, with someone new. Reckoning with that realization is horrifying. If he is able to pull it off, what does that mean about the love they shared? When he had told her for years that he was who he was for her, and her alone?
You said I needed a bravе man
Then proceeded to play him
Until I believed it too
And it kills me
How could they go from being so intimate that they shower together, that she’s aware of his every move, to being so distant from each other that she wonders if making her fall in love with him was a hazing? And the cruelest part of it is – she doesn’t want either one of them to be able to move on, and give validity to the fact that they weren’t right for each other, even though she knows they have to. Moreover, she’s already *tried* to move on at this point, and failed – she tried to manufacture a counterfeit version of their intimacy, but what if he’s able to perfectly replicate it? And to really drive in the knife, what if it’s with someone younger than her?
And you jump up, but she's too young to know this song
That was intertwined in the magic fabric of our dreaming
Given that a theme throughout the first album was her feeling like she’d given him so much of her youth, so much of her childbearing years, with nothing to show for it, what does it feel like to know that he can essentially reset time, by being with a younger woman, but she’ll never be able to get that time back?
imgonnagetyouback
We know that her and Joe took a break or two while they were together (see: Hits Different, The Great War, in addition to PR articles). To me, this song is about when you do take that break from your partner, and you’re trying to make a point to them that they’re not going to find anyone better than you (I can tell when somebody still wants me, come clean) – the two of you are too intimately intertwined to find a suitable replacement. You know what to wear, what to say, what to do to bring them back to you:
I, I hear thе whispers in your eyes
I'll make you wanna think twice
You'll find that you were never not mine
This song also has a lot of similarities to So Long, London, which is why I attribute it to Joe. To me, it provides a deeper story to some of the lines she touches on in So Long, London:
I didn't opt in to be your odd man out
I founded the club she's heard great things about
And to some of the lines in Hits Different:
I washed my hands of us at the club
You made a mess of me
I pictured you with other girls in love
Then threw up on the street
//
Bet I could still melt your world
Argumentative, antithetical dream girl
imgonnagetyouback is a story of one-upmanship – of trying to out-jealous your partner, of proving to them that nobody knows them better than you do. And maybe this time when they’re both playing this game, it works:
Push the reset button, we're becomin' something new
Say you got somebody, I'll say I got someone too
Even if it's handcuffed, I'm leavin' here with you
//
We broke all the pieces, but still wanna play the game (Oh)
Told my friends I hate you, but I love you just the same
Pick your poison, babe, I'm poison either way
The spacing to me is a deliberate red herring (the 1975 very famously made a song called fallingforyou), and a way to illustrate that the subject of the song wants space from her – but she’s not going to give it to him. This is another theme that calls back to Joe – in So Long, London, she describes him as constantly pulling away (Pulled him in tighter each time he was driftin' away). Matty didn’t pull away – he was all in for two weeks, until he chose to ghost her, and leave abruptly. There was no slow death, no push and pull to her relationship with Matty – it was a meteoric rise and fall.
The Albatross
This song feels like a sister song to “peace” – she describes what it’s like to love her. It’s a little more twisted, however, as she describes her love for her partner as both a danger, and a rescue from the danger she’s imposing on him by being involved with him:
Wise men once said
"Wild winds are death to the candle"
A rose by any other name is a scandal
Cautions issued, he stood
Shooting the messengers
They tried to warn him about her
She’s described herself as wind and liquor in her relationship with Joe previously, in Mastermind:
I'm the wind in our free-flowing sails
And the liquor in our cocktails
She has empathy for the narrator, but disdain for herself. There’s also acceptance though: she knows that she tried to prevent it, and tried to warn him about the danger she posed. In the end though, he chose this life with her, and he chose the danger – there’s only so much she can protect him from.
The devil that you know
Looks now more like an angel
I'm the life you chose
And all this terrible danger
Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus
This song feels like another sister song to The Black Dog – how does she cope with the idea that her long-time partner might move on? How does she cope with the fact that if she chooses to leave, she also chooses the future in which they both move on? A future in which they don’t know each other? It also touches on her wondering if she should move on with Matty, and how feasible it would be to know someone else instead of her partner:
If you want to tear my world apart
Just say you've always wondered
This song, more than anything else, illustrates that moving on with Matty was nothing but a way to move past Joe – what she really wants, more than anything, is a response greater than indifference from Joe:
As the decade would play us for fools
And you saw my bones out with somebody new
Who seemed like he would've bullied you in school
And you just watched it happen
There’s also the realization that Joe may never love who she is now – who she was at the beginning of their relationship will always be who he prefers:
If you want to break my cold, cold heart
Just say, 'I loved you the way that you were'
She’s trying desperately to find some way to make up for the fact that she had to leave Joe, that there was nothing she could do to stay – she tried changing everything about herself, but still, the need to leave him eventually caught up with her:
I changed into goddesses, villains and fools
Changed plans and lovers and outfits and rules
All to outrun my desertion of you
And you just watched it
And she wonders whether despite his indifference, and the distance between them, she should still stay:
Could it be enough to just float in your orbit
Can we watch our phantoms like watching wild horses
Cooler in theory but not if you force it
To be, it just didn't happen
But now, they are merely ghosts of who they once were – it’s not possible to force the relationship anymore.
How Did It End?
When a long-term relationship ends, you can point to the factors that led to its demise: a difference of opinions on money, on marriage, on children, and so forth. It is easy to determine the “what” and the “why” of an ending. But what is harder to diagnose is how you both became the versions of yourselves that weren’t on the same page, that were unable to discuss these topics, that couldn’t move past these dilemmas. That is much, much harder to pinpoint, and this is the question Taylor asks in this song. She knows what killed them:
We hereby conduct this post-mortem
He was a hot house flower to my outdoorsman
//
We were blind to unforeseen circumstances
We learn the right steps to different dances (ohh)
And fell victim to interlopers' glances
Lost the game of chance, what are the chances?
But what she still doesn't know is how it happened – how did it end? She also finds the empathy from the media and from the public to be false and selfish – they only want to know what happened to feverishly spread the news like wildfire.
Come one, come all
It's happenin' again
The empathetic hunger descends
We'll tell no one
Except all of our friends
We must know
How did it end?
//
Soon they'll go home to their husbands
Smug 'cause they know they can trust him
Then feverishly calling their cousins (ohh)
//
Say it once again with feeling
What the feeding frenzy wants more than anything is gossip, and they don’t care that she is utterly lost – lost as to why this happened, and lost physically and mentally:
Guess who we ran into at the shops?
Walking in circles like she was lost
How does she give an answer to quell the empathetic hunger, when she herself doesn’t understand exactly how it happened?
So High School
In an album that touches so much on feeling like she’s running out of time to have the future that she wants, and running out of youth to give the various men who come into her life, it is interesting and heartwarming that the song about Travis on the anthology is one that describes being with him as regaining her youth:
The brink of a wrinkle in time
Bittersweet sixteen suddenly
Moreover, another detail to note in this song is the difference in how she describes alcohol and drugs – in nearly every other song on TTPD, alcohol is a vice she uses in her moments of despair, and drugs are what her previous partners turn to in their moments of strife (she also describes the influence of drugs on her partners as something she detests – “sinking in stoned oblivion” and “you needed me but you needed drugs more”). With Travis, she’s not imbibing in any substances – instead, his thoughts and jokes are enough for her:
I'll drink what you think, and I'm high
From smoking your jokes all damn night
Travis is giving her back her youth, making sober promises, and the impression that we get is that they’re building this dreamlike reality together – it’s wholesome, all-American, and high-school-inspired, yet still grounded in something tangible, unlike the promise of fate and destiny, which powered her relationship with Joe and her entanglement with Matty.
I Hate It Here
More than anything, I think this song illustrates how Taylor sometimes uses escapism and maladaptive daydreaming to ignore the reality of the situation she’s dealing with. She recognizes that it’s not possible to stay where she is, locked inside this prison of stagnation and boredom:
If comfort is a construct
I don't believe in good luck
Now that I know what's what
She recognizes that this isn’t what she used to be, and that she never intended to choose this life of secrecy, perhaps alluding to all those years she spent “locked inside her house”:
You see I was a debutante in another life but
Now I seem to be scared to go outside
She describes herself as finding hope in the places her mind creates (seemingly alluding to her creation of characters and places for folklore and evermore):
I hate it here so I will go to
secret gardens in my mind
People need a key to get to
The only one is mine
I read about it in a book when I was a precocious child
And her escapism into her past, and imaginings of what could have been in Midnights:
I hate it here so I will go to
Lunar valleys in my mind
When they found a better planet
Only the gentle survived
I dreamed about it in the dark
The night I felt like I might die
All throughout the song, there’s recognition that she doesn’t want to be here – she doesn’t want to feel as if the only place she can be free is in these imaginary worlds she creates. But there’s also concession – is she perhaps only destined for an eternal consolation prize? For loneliness? For imagined romanticism? For the fantasy of how she imagined her life and her love to be?
I'm lonely but I'm good
I'm bitter but I swear I'm fine
I'll save all my romanticism for my inner life and I'll get lost on
purpose
This place made me feel worthless
Lucid dreams like electricity, the current flies through me,
and in my fantasies I rise above it
And way up there, I actually love it
​​thanK you aIMee
This song, along with a few others in the latter half of the anthology, discusses the loss of innocence she felt in key moments of her life. This one quite obviously alludes to Kim Kardashian, and their infamous feud. I will make a separate post on this, but I think people describing this song as petty may not remember the depth of the hate aimed at Taylor in 2016. Kim and Kanye organized a revenge porn music video for Famous, and held a museum exhibit so that people could take pictures with the naked dolls. The night the snapchat videos were released, every Kardashian family member descended upon social media to gleefully celebrate the #TaylorSwiftIsOverParty. The amount of hate Taylor got was so unprecedented that Instagram actually built their comment filtration system because of this incident. It really was that bad.
And every baby step Taylor took (for example, even just posting that she had a good 2017 was met with immediate media backlash) was quite literally mocked across the internet. People thought the reputation era was cringey, that she was over, and that she deserved everyone’s ire because she was “proven” to be a liar. She describes this in the song:
Each time that Aimee stomped across my grave
And then she wrote headlines in the local paper
Laughing at each baby step I'd take
And it was always the same searing pain
But the whole time, despite the pain and blood, she was dreaming of the day that she would heal, and dreaming of the day that she would climb her way back to to the mountaintop:
And our town, it looks so small from way up here
//
So I pushed each boulder up that hill
Your words were still just ringing in my head, ringing in my head
What still irks her though, is that this bully who created this entire hate train and organized her downfall will pretend as if it never happened – she will undoubtedly reframe things to make our subject seem overdramatic, petty, and unable to move past the incidents of years ago. Taylor, however, has always been clear about one thing: sometimes, no amount of time can heal you from something that deeply traumatized you.
I Look in People’s Windows
This song to me feels like a sister song to The Black Dog, but a few months after the official end of a relationship. A sub theme that runs through Taylor’s songs about the Joe breakup is the loss of being understood – when you are no longer with a long-term partner, how do you cope with the fact that you move through the world knowing everything about this person, but at the same time, not knowing them anymore? Would you peek into their windows just to get a glimpse of what their life looks like now? As anyone who has gone through a breakup knows, the hardest part is often not being privy to the mundane details of that person’s world – their dinner parties, their wine, their friends, and so on.
I look in people's windows
Transfixed by rose golden glows
They have their friends over to drink nice wine
I look in people's windows
In case you're at their table
What if your eyes looked up and met mine
One more time
The Prophecy
The Prophecy is devastating. More so than any other song Taylor has ever written, it is full of desperation and longing. All she asks for is to be known, to be understood – to not be perceived as an idea of a woman, or a starlet with no humanity:
Please
I've been on my knees
Change the prophecy
Don't want money
Just someone who wants my company
Let it once be me
Who do I have to speak to
About if they can redo
The prophecy?
It’s striking especially considering how much she laments that leaving Joe means she’s giving up being known – it’s also striking given the fact that in the epilogue poem, she states that neither Joe or Matty ever truly knew her:
He never even scratched the surface
of me.
None of them did.
What she desires beyond fame, beyond notoriety, beyond money, is to be loved and to be known. The song also alludes to her being in therapy, and to finding some sort of consolation that she will find someone to share her life with:
I'm so afraid I sealed my fate
No sign of soulmates
I'm just a paperweight
In shades of greige
Spending my last coin so someone will tell me
It'll be ok
Cassandra
This track is a sister song to ​​thanK you aIMee, and continues exploring the theme of fraught public womanhood we see in Clara Bow and Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me. In this song, Taylor discusses how the validation of women is never publicized in the way that the crucifixion of them is:
When the first stone's thrown, there's screaming
In the streets, there's a raging riot
When it's "Burn the bitch, " they're shrieking
When the truth comes out, it's quiet
Moreover, when women speak up about an issue, they’re often viewed as overdramatic, and unserious. Cassandra, in Greek mythology, was cursed by Apollo to always predict the future accurately, but never be believed. We see this happen every day to women in politics, in the media, and in pop culture:
So, they killed Cassandra first 'cause she feared the worst
And tried to tell the town
So, they set my life in flames, I regret to say
Do you believe me now?
And for Taylor, it’s reminiscent of all the times she’s been the first to speak out about something in the industry – for example, against Scooter Braun and his well-established pattern of bullying, or of the exploitation of artists on streaming services – but never been supported broadly by her peers. They believe her later, but at that point, very few people give her the credit for speaking up in the first place. It’s reminiscent of the Kimye scandal. When the news broke originally, the hatred she received was widespread. But when she was acquitted by the long-form video that leaked, it didn’t receive anywhere near the level of coverage that the original scandal received.
Peter
Peter is another song that touches on both the male muses for this album, and in turn, on the promises various men have given her over her life (we’ll circle back to this in The Manuscript!). It also touches on the theme of waiting that’s seen throughout this album, especially on her songs about Joe – how much time is enough time to give?
Both Matty and Joe were 25 when they met her, and it’s abundantly clear that both men made promises to her: promises of marriage, of children, and of a future. But how long can she wait for these promises to be fulfilled? To Joe, she gives six years of her life and youth, and to Matty, she gives him a chance to prove that he was reformed from the time she knew him last: both men eventually fail. Neither man is ready to give up their childish whims, and she has no choice but to lose hope that either of them ever will.
And you said you'd come and get me but you were 25
And the shelf life of those fantasies has expired
Lost to the lost boys chapter of your life
Forgive me Peter, please know that I tried
To hold onto the days when you were mine
But the woman who sits by the window has turned out the light
Another thing to note is the interesting double meaning of the song title. To peter also means to diminish gradually – much like her faith in both men’s promises.
The Bolter
A lot of the songs Taylor has written about Joe in this album deal with the question of “when is the right time to leave?” When you know that things are stagnant, and you know that you’ve given everything you have to a relationship, you know that you have to leave – but it’s easy to convince yourself if you have a history of “leaving before you get left” that you should ride out this wave, and that this pain might just be temporary.
The Bolter, to me, reflects on Taylor’s history – it seems like she prided herself on being able to see the warning signs, and being able to get out in time.
She's been many places with
Men of many faces
First, they're off to the races
And she's laughing drawin' aces
But, none of it is changin'
That the chariot is waitin'
Hearts are hers for the breakin'
There's an escape in escaping
It’s relevant to TTPD, because likely, she saw not bolting as a sign of growth and maturity. You know that you’ve grown as a person when you don’t abandon ship at the first sign of trouble, but what if there are so many signs of trouble that the truly mature thing to do would be to leave?
Robin
Robin leads into this theme of childhood and innocence that we see further in The Manuscript. The track name is also the name of Aaron Dessner’s child. She ponders how beautiful and sweet it is that we work so hard to protect childhood naivete:
Strings tied to levers,
slowed down clocks tethered,
all this showmanship
To keep it, for you,
In sweetness
And there’s an element of wistfulness to it – don’t we sometimes wish that we could also be protected from the worst the world has to offer?
You have no room in your dreams for regrets
You have no idea
The time will arrive for the cruel and the mean
You'll learn to bounce back just like your trampoline
But now we'll curtail your curiosity
The Manuscript
This song is perhaps the most climactic song on the album. It covers her romantic history up until that point, and starts at the moment she feels everything went awry – and it predates Joe and Matty. Instead, it calls back to the first time she experienced a proper heartbreak, and the first time she lost her childlike innocence in the world – her relationship with Jake Gyllenhaal (a time she described as her transition from childhood to womanhood). She describes how they compared licenses, and how he told her that if they had sex, and it was as good as the conversation was, then they would get married, and have a family. He was the first man to make her these promises:
He said that if the sex was half as good as the conversation was
Soon they'd be pushin' strollers
But soon it was over
He tells her that it’s ok that they have an age gap, because she’s so advanced for her age:
She thought about how he said since she was so wise beyond her years
Everything had been above board
She wasn't sure
While dating him, she desperately wants to be older, and starts emulating his behavior:
In the age of him, she wished she was thirty
And made coffee every morning in a French press
And when it’s over, she regresses, and turns back into a child – unable to sleep alone without the comfort of her mother, and unable to eat anything substantial besides the sugary cereal of her youth:
Afterwards she only ate kids' cereal
And couldn't sleep unless it was in her mother's bed
She forces herself to date boys her own age, to not rely on the maturity of an older man to guide her through adulthood, but she can’t help but feel disappointed in their youth:
Then she dated boys who were her own age
With dart boards on the backs of their doors
Finally, as she creates the All Too Well short film, she recognizes the damage he did to her, and how the consequences of that affair have shaped her life since:
And the years passed
Like scenes of a show
The Professor said to write what you know
Lookin' backwards
Might be the only way to move forward
Then the actors
Were hitting their marks
And the slow dance
Was alight with the sparks
And the tears fell
In synchronicity with the score
And at last
She knew what the agony had been for
Everything calls back to this first man, and these original promises – everything she’s been chasing since is reminiscent of this first scar. And just like how releasing All Too Well transformed and healed her, she hopes that by releasing this additional manuscript into the world, it will heal her again. As she describes in the epilogue poem, she is entering all her thoughts, emotions, and pain into evidence – she now asks the audience to process it with her, and thus conclude this process of healing.
The only thing that's left is the manuscript
One last souvenir from my trip to your shores
Now and then I reread the manuscript
But the story isn't mine anymore
If you read all of this - thank you! I enjoyed writing it, and I'm excited to discuss with you all in the replies :)

(kind of a rant, kind of a confession. I didn’t know where to put it so I put it here. FYI, this is very long and it’s not funny like my other posts, but it is heartfelt and meaningful and I desperately want somebody to hear me.)
I suck at video games, there’s only a few games I can actually play. I can play Skyrim. I tried playing Oblivion and I gave up after 15 minutes because it was too complicated. I started playing it because my cousin liked it and I wanted to understand him.
I can play certain titles of Legend of Zelda; Ocarina, Twilight Princess, and Skyward Sword. But the minute I picked up Majora‘s Mask I tried for two days and couldn’t get past the second boss. My brothers played these games when I was a kid and I wanted to at least relate to them about something as an adult. I figured if I struggle through Zelda game, they could guide me through it and we could start talking.
The only board game that I truly enjoy is Settlers of Catan, and the only reason I enjoy it is because I actually know how to play it. I have learned how to play Castles. My entire family loves playing board games for hours and hours and hours and hours on end, so if I want to connect to them, I have to learn board games.
I’m also pretty sick at checkers…although I lose to my nine-year-old nephew very frequently (he’s very nice to me about it, he also likes to help me with algebra). I don’t mind checkers because my nephew is so much fun to play with and absolutely adorable. (Me: * genuinely trying my hardest and I lose again*. Him: “It’s OK auntie I’ll play for you next time!” Me: “… but we’re playing together.” Him: “ I know I’ll move your pieces for you but you’ll still be playing your side.”)
I can play poker .. JK no I can’t. I played it for a couple weeks one summer with my coworkers in my early 20s. I had some good memories with my coworkers sitting in the shade outside for four hours every afternoon, just playing poker and cracking jokes. But after that summer I never played it again until last summer when my brother and I had a rare moment of connection when he tried to teach it to me and I played dumb because I just was so happy to be sitting and talking with him without a screen between us and just wanted to prolong the moment.
So I’m gonna learn poker. I want to play with my brother.
In middle school I thought I could take a shot of playing basketball because I’m tall. My coach thought I would be a natural. The only thing I’m natural at is being clumsy. (Imagine that 6 feet tall in seventh grade and the worst player in the B team). Plus all the girls on the team were the popular tough girls and I was definitely not that. I tried again with the softball team, which was slightly better because I was forever in the left field and I never touched the ball. I actually had a couple good times with that, because the team girls were actually fun.
I think my parents thought that I just needed a confidence boost so they signed me up for the churches summer water ski team. Five years. It was absolute torture. I got up the first time that I skied and then fell over. Because the water scared me and I didn’t wanna do it. I refused to get up on the skis for the next five years, but my mother still forced me to do it thinking that I just needed to try harder. My parents both believed in the “throw the kid in the water to teach them how to swim” method of teaching, but for some reason that didn’t work with me like it did my brothers. They found me annoying, stubborn and baffling. I didn’t relate to any of the people there because they were all different than me, plus my two popular brothers either ignored or bullied the fuck out of me to make themselves look good , and I only got along with the few “slutty, poor non-Church kids” that were sponsored on the team 🤣.
I’ve tried watching football and hockey and baseball and basketball and golf with my roommates and all I do is just talk the entire time and piss them off so I end up staying in the basement like a troll. Because I don’t get it. Why are we watching this?
My sister-in-law who is a popular book smart blonde pretty girl from the country tried to “cure me” of my disdain for sports by forcing me to sit down and watch the Super Bowl with her 10 years ago. She never tried again.
I live in Minnesota and people talk about the twins games, and my roommate took me to the twins game a couple months ago … I enjoyed it because it’s a new experience and it’s a very nice arena. Still, Kind of boring though. I ended up cracking jokes the entire game to pass the time. I randomly ran into a friend of mine though so that was OK. But I do think my roommate was kind of annoyed. Apparently, I talk too much. The only reason I went is because I feel like I need to try and connect more with my roommate. (And also to check out the players butts (God bless baseball pants).)
You get it right you see what I’m trying to say here? Competition in general just is not my thing. I don’t feel competitive. I don’t like competing. I think it’s pointless and stupid. I don’t see the point of trying to learn a game for no reason. It’s a waste of time unless the goal is social togetherness and closeness, but so far in my experience, the only thing that’s accomplished socially is rage and hats being thrown on the grass, fights happening left and right. The only other reason competition is OK is if you’re trying to save somebody or you have to accomplish a job.
So for me, I like to sit around and talk to people, but I’m socially awkward because of the family I grew up in so I feel like I’m learning how to talk again. I find that I desperately need my introvert time simply because of the way I was raised, even though I’m naturally an extrovert. But a lot of people find me to be too much. That’s why I love crazy wild insane people who don’t fit in. I understand them. I’m comfortable around the ones that nobody else understands. I see the ones people don’t want. I serve the ones the world looks over. I find it’s possible to relate to the ones everyone else says is impossible to relate to.
I also am the one who is always doing whatever everybody else wants to do in order to just relate to them because sometimes conversations are difficult for me because I’m not interested in most stuff that other people are interested in. I’m only interested in the arts really. I always thought I was autistic because of this, but I don’t think I am. I’m getting tested on Tuesday lol.
(honestly if the test results come back and I turned out to be autistic, it’s not gonna comfort me. I’m going to cry for days. I’ve worked so hard to fit in, but I’ve never belonged. It would be just a confirmation that I’m just an incurable weirdo like I was told my whole life).
But just once I would like to stop being that person whom is always reaching out and doing whatever everybody else wants. You know what I like to do? I like to dance. I want somebody to go to the club with me. I like to entertain on stage and perform for people. I like to teach and help guide young people and those with special needs. Even though the entertainment industry is going down the drain and movies are no longer special…I still love the idea of making movies. I have stories to tell. I like to go to the art museum and just walk around for the entire day and draw. I like studying psychology, anthropology, and religion. I believe strongly in women’s rights, and think that it’s important to raise up the poor and marginalized. I want to go to the homeless shelter and serve there. I fucking fucking fucking love writing stories, and want to draw a graphic novel someday. I want to teach kids how to make art write their stories, and bridge gaps between the disciplines, especially the ones with sports and art. I’m passionate about teaching people to relate to each other instead of bullying each other.
Siderant: I have deep compassion for those with special needs because they are so ignored by so many people. They’re so so so so so DEEPLY valuable to the health of a society. So incredibly valuable. I’ve seen crime people give up murderous intentions for the sake of caring for somebody with special needs. I’ve seen shy people come out of their shells because somebody with special needs brought it out of them. I’ve seen broken people heal through service and relationships with people with special needs. I’ve seen arrogant and proud people humble themselves through loving and serving somebody with special needs, and I’ve seen humble people build up their confidence and strength by working and loving those special needs. I’ve seen self-conscious high school students go from ignoring and mocking the sped kids to becoming selfless and hard-working friends with them. Service of sped people can literally cure wars, I work in a gang-ridden ghetto community and I’ve seen it firsthand. They honestly should be at the forefront of much of society. Not greed and money and power. The people who no one else wants to see needs to be the ones everyone sees. I really really, really believe that.
But how many people want to do what I want to do I’ve always had to do what they want. I don’t really know how to do human.

If you haven't read the first one I recommend you do. https://www.reddit.com/Advice/comments/1d61yop/pt_1_how_do_i_make_this_better_between_me_and_my/
I don't know if I'm writing a 3 rd one I am drained and tired from crying a little
Second thing
She thinks I put other people over her and I know exactly what she means also. She thinks that I put my family back in the Bahamas over the family I have over here aka my sisters and my cousin. She thinks that I would put someone over them, which wouldn't wouldn't. The main thing with this conflict that she's always bringing up is that she thinks I love my grandmother more than her. Is that true, well yeah I think so. My grandmother is more caring and my grandmother is 71. My mother's point for this is that she carried me for 9 months and she pushed me out saying that because of that she should be the number one woman in my life. Don't get me wrong I love my mother I can't abandon her, but she has to realize I love my grandmother so dam much she is the most important woman if not the most important. I have a connection with her I don't have with my mother yet because my grandmother raised me with my dad's side of the family most of my life. She has to realize my grandmother is 71 and as much as I hate to say it I don't have that much time with my grandmother. As writing this I tearing up a little but it's true. She was soon dead and gone I will never hear her voice talking to me again dawg and that hurt. I have already come to terms with it because that's life and I have to deal with it no matter what. I ain't ready for her to leave me and honestly, when she goes I don't know what ima do. But what I'm trying to say is I can't put her over my grandmother who raised me, don't feel like that right to my grandmother and to my grandmother's family who invested so much in me. I feel like just because she doesn't my mother doesn't mean I can't put her above my grandmother.
She always used the point that a couple of days ago when I got a new PC and it wasn't working I asked my mom's best friend's husband (who we call uncle and I will continue to say that to make it easier) to see if he could help me because he has a masters in IT and studied it. While my stepdad's dad doesn't have a masters in IT and mostly did Law he didn't even finish his law degree. So let me ask you this who would you ask for help? I called my uncle and he came and he told me he couldn't figure out what was wrong with it and returned it to get my money back. What my mom told me is that my stepdad was upset because I didn't ask him to help me first, when he was probably going to tell me he didn't know and I would've been in the same spot as before. She said even though my uncle studied IT I should've asked my stepdad. For what to waste time? I went with the most logical thing and called my uncle. Why would I go to my stepdad who was probably going to tell me that he didn't know what the problem was and to go ahead and call my uncle? My mom said that I still should've asked him and let him help me because I might have hurt his feelings.
Honestly, guys while growing up with my grandmother my uncle always taught me to make the best decisions that make the most sense, and not waste my time. Forget about people's feelings and get done what I need to get done. I am sorry if it hurt my stepdad's feelings but I didn't want to waste my time getting nowhere.
Back to my family troubles. My mom was telling me I needed to step up because my older sister who is the oldest wasn't in the right head space all she cared about was the man. She said I must always help my sisters and be there for them and she said if I'm getting food (With the money my grandmotheuncle gives me) I should ask my sisters if they want food as well and let them say no. As much as I agree with what she's saying. What if they say yes and I have no money to get one of my sisters something?
She said that I must use my money to go and get food for all of them if I have the money. Keep in mind my second youngest sister who is going into 11th grade, my cousin and my older sisters smoke and vape, and my grandmother sends 20$ for them sometimes so they don't have to ask me for money.
My sisters still spend it on vapes to smoke and I must still buy them food. My mother doesn't know but my stepdad does he doesn't want to tell my mother because she blows everything out of proportion, but I want all to know if I order food and my sisters want some I would give it to them because at the end of the day its just food. I don't understand why she brings it up every time.
Again y'all I just don't know what to do I'm out of all options and I'm just tired.