The Advancement of Mateo Matic: June 21, 2473

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Last year, this ragtag group of random time travelers who didn’t care to have anything to do with each other humored Utari Kiswana, and took a tour of the artificial island that they were on. It was a really interesting place, and they all probably would have enjoyed themselves had they come here on their own, and weren’t being held at this point in spacetime against their wills. There were a ton of activities to do here, like mountain climbing, sailing, and paragliding. There was even a train that just rolled around on a set of circular tracks, where some people apparently lived permanently. After it was over, they were all exhausted. Most of them were asking to just be sent back to where they belonged, which poor Buddy must have actually obliged, but Utari seemed to be in charge now.

A funny thing happened on the way back from dinner. Utari and Buddy wanted to get rooms in one of the main beach hotels for everyone, so they could stay the night, and wake up refreshed in the morning. As Buddy described earlier, dozens of beaches radiated from the island, allowing a lot of residents to have beachfront property. The main part of the island, however, was still surrounded by water, and there were a ton of hotels and housing units there too. They just weren’t quite as immersed in it. It seemed like a nice place to stay, but by the time they got checked in, two of the abductees mysteriously disappeared. Buddy apparently made the attempt to bring them back, but was unable to.

“You were transported to my domain in the future,” he guessed. “You’re here now, and so am I. Basically, my past self was unable to retrieve you, because he would be stealing you from me, and that would not have been okay.”

Mateo looked over at Bhulan and Arqut. “You have been here for a year?”

“It hasn’t been that bad,” Bhulan replied.

“It’s actually been kind of nice to get a break from the ship,” Arqut added. “Though, I would like to see my wife again, so could we be quite quick?”

“Quite quick with what?” Olimpia questioned. “Have the rest of you figured out how to do anything that this asshole is asking of us?”

“Hey, there’s no need for language,” Buddy argued.

“Then how’s anyone gonna understand me?” Olimpia asked combatively.

“We have an idea,” Tauno jumped in. “We’ve been waiting for you two to return before we try to implement it.”

“It’s this.” Utari set her briefcase carefully on the ground, and opened it to retrieve a cable.

“The Livewire?” Mateo questioned.

“You’ve heard of it?” Buddy asked.

“I’ve used it,” he explained. “It caused some problems in the Third Rail, but it also saved lives. That’s what it does, transfers consciousness. Why would we want that?”

“That’s not all it can do,” Utari began. “It can transmit any form of energy, including temporal. We think we can wrap this around our respective wrists, and channel our power into a focal object. That thing might end up with enough power to accomplish what we’re trying.”

Mateo took the Livewire from Utari’s hands, and started wrapping it around his own palms for no particular reason. “I’ve seen a lot of wondrous things. I’m sure it’s nothing compared to what some of you have seen, but I’ve picked up a few things here and there. My best friend, Ramses may be the most knowledgeable person when it comes to temporal energy. Sure, you got your Hokusais and Hogarths...your Team Keshidas and Holly Blues, and even my wife. They’ve made some great things, but I still don’t think they compare to Rambo. He really gets into it. He has worked hard to figure out the fundamentals of time, and the manipulation of it.” He carelessly dropped the wire to the ground. “What you’re suggesting is stupid. Your lemon issue is not there for lack of power. There’s plenty of energy to go around. People with more power than all of us combined have not been able to transport citrus. You’re not gonna get it done with more temporal energy. If anything, you want less. Lemons don’t like time. They tolerate it at a one-to-one ratio, which is why they don’t explode in every grocery store in the world. They only become overloaded when you mess with the balance.”

“So, what’s your suggestion?” Buddy planted his hands on his hip.

Mateo shook his head. “Why did the Buddha’s hand citron go extinct?”

“A lot of things happened,” Buddy said. “Highlights include climate breakdown, wayward pesticides, pests themselves, a lack of customer demand during the rise of genetically modified organisms; particularly dayfruit. In fact, a lot of fruits have become extinct by now when we stopped growing them in favor of more efficient alternatives, not just citrus. Those I could rescue, if I were so inclined.”

Mateo nodded, and approached the man. “You’re a time traveler. Go back in time, and protect the Buddha’s hand. Build a greenhouse, keep it protected. Hire people to maintain it for the last few centuries. Do this the right way; you don’t need magic. Did you ever think of that?”

“Sounds like a lot of work,” Buddy decided after a long beat.

“It is,” Mateo agreed. “Preserving life is work.”

“No.” Tauno picked the Livewire back up, and wrapped it around his wrist before moving on to do the same to Bhulan. “I built the Fourth Quadrant out of raw power that I store in my dick. I can do this. I just need a boost.”

As offended as Bhulan was by Tauno’s crude remark, she didn’t stop him from pulling her into this power-sharing gambit. Arqut let him wrap it around his wrist too, as did Utari and Buddy. They stood there, like the worst basketball team in the league. No one tried to force Mateo and Olimpia to join them, but what else were they gonna do? Buddy and Bhulan were the only people here who could send them home. They might as well humor them again, and give it a shot. He was right, it wasn’t going to work, and hopefully, it wouldn’t instead make things worse either. The two of them huddled up with the group, and closed the Livewire loop. Arqut gave Mateo a wink, which was weird, but okay.

“We connected this room directly to the mountain’s primary fusion chamber,” Utari revealed. “We should not be lacking in electricity.” She took the first end of the wire from Tauno, and shoved it into the wall socket.

They could feel the pulsing energy surge around their wrists. It kept circling the loop, over and over and over again, building as it was continuously fed by the underground fusion reactor. Buddy was smirking as was happening. That was when Mateo realized that they never selected an object to focus the power into. That must have been because it was Buddy. He had chosen himself to be the vessel. He was clearly a megalomaniac, so this should have come as no surprise to them. The real question was whether he would stop at this mission, or move onto the next one after this. What would he do with all this power? The dude wanted some lemons. He was being a jerk about it, but evil was not the word that either of them would use. Utari, however, appeared to have let her hand show. She could turn out to be the real threat. She could be the next Cleanser, or Oaksent. She was smirking even more sinisterly, like she knew something that Buddy didn’t.

That was when Arqut breathed deeply in and out, and flexed his arm muscle. He reached over with his free hand, and cupped his fingers over the wire on his other wrist. The energy stopped circling the group, and instead began to redirect into Arqut. He was taking it. He was taking all of it.

“What are you doing?” Buddy questioned angrily. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Yeah, how are you taking it from us?” Utari pressed.

“It’s all about the entropy, baby,” Arqut answered vaguely, pleased with himself. “Energy tends to flow from a higher concentration to a less ordered state. I’m the least ordered state in the room, dumbasses. I’m not a time traveler. I’m only human.”

Buddy and Utari tried to remove themselves from the circle, but were literally tied up. Bhulan and Tauno were smiling, and it was becoming clear that this was the true plan all along. Had Mateo and Olimpia been here during their interim year, they likely would have been in on it too. There was nothing anyone could do to stop it. Utari kicked the wire out of the socket, but that wasn’t where the energy was coming from anymore. If anything, it helped, because now the temporal energy was free to slide along the wire on its own without competing for space. Only a few seconds later, the other four were noticeably drowsy and dizzy. They couldn’t keep their eyes open. Meanwhile, Arqut was stronger than ever, and the two members of Team Matic were doing fine.

The energy slowed down on its own, and once it was used up, most of the group fell towards their backs. Olimpia managed to catch Bhulan in her arms, but she was still passed out. “How are you two standing?” Arqut asked.

“We’re salmon,” Mateo told him. “We don’t live off of temporal energy. It really only comes to us once a day.”

“Yeah, we need sunlight!” Olimpia agreed cheerfully as she was carrying Bulan to one of the beds. “We’re plants!”

Arqut smiled, and walked over to open the shades as a nice gesture. He then went over to untangle the Livewire from everyone’s arms. “Most temporal objects are illegal on the Extremus. Tauno is a jackass, and we all know we can’t trust these two yahoos. Bhulan already told me that she has a knack for trying to destroy these things. So I think the only logical answer is to give it to you.”

“What happens to them?” Mateo nodded his head towards the people on the floor.

“I don’t care what happens to Utari. There is a way for me to tether myself to the ship when I get back home, and Bhulan will find a similar solution in the Constant, where she belongs. Tauno has all sorts of friends, I’m sure he can ask one of them for protection from Buddy. That’s why you need this. It could be your version of a solution.” Arqut handed the wire to Mateo. “I hope your friend, Ramses is as resourceful as you make him sound.”

“How do we get home?” Olimpia asked. “Do you have all their powers now?”

“I have their power,” Arqut clarified. “Not their powers. Bhulan’s will replenish itself eventually, and she’s already agreed to send me back to the past. As for you, I just gave you what you need. You take care.”

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Microstory 2201: Understanding of the Data

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I came back into the office today. Actually, I got in really early, before the sun came up, but I just watched a nature show on the gargantuan TV until it was time to “clock in”. What happened was I woke up at the end of a cycle, and couldn’t get back to sleep. I didn’t find myself drifting away during the day, though, so I think it will be okay. Sometimes, fighting insomnia is worse, and it’s best just to accept what your body is trying to tell you, even if you’re better at math, and you know that it’s wrong. I won’t be making a habit of it. After everyone else came in, we put a meeting on the books. My Data Analyst wanted to put the finishing touches on his presentation. He gave us his initial findings. He now understands how jail guests are currently scheduled, and as we suspected, it really doesn’t have anything to do with group dynamics. There is so much data, and so many variables to deal with, this is going to be a difficult task, but I know that my people are up to it. The majority of the rest of the team will begin next week. They’ll be spending time on their training, and getting to know each other, so it won’t be until about mid-August before we start making progress, but that progress will happen. The presentation was interactive, with the other team members asking questions, and already contributing to the understanding of the data. He actually rewrote some of the slides while we were all there together. Right now, I’m consolidating and organizing the information that I’ve received in my brain, and thinking about ways that we can tackle this issue in the future, and I’ll continue to do that after I fall asleep tonight.

Microstory 2129: Eat All the Things

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Today was a fun day for me, but will make for a pretty boring post for all of you. My new company gave me both a signing bonus, and an advance. I’m not a millionaire or anything, but I have enough money in my bank account to start taking care of myself. After the pre-onboarding paperwork and meetings that I had to go through—which I can’t talk to you about—I went shopping. I bought groceries, as well as other necessary new belongings, like a nightstand to put next to my bed. I got a lot of walking done today, because I don’t have a car, and I had to make separate trips, since I didn’t want to be carrying all of the bags around. For the larger furniture, like that nightstand, and a rug for the dining area, I had to make a whole separate trip each. Fortunately, I’m in a really convenient area, so it’s not like I had to travel for miles and miles to get to these places. I have this problem when I go grocery shopping, especially if I’m starting with very little, or in this case, almost nothing. I buy everything that I feel like eating that day, but that’s too much food, so I have to choose one for my next meal, and save the rest for later. Or I don’t wait, and eat all the things. That’s how I gained so much weight even after leaving college. The way it worked in the dorm cafeteria was that I could eat all the food I wanted every time I swiped my card, and I felt like I had to take advantage of the savings by eating extra, because my parents were paying for it. I thought that this sort of behavior would stop once I moved into an apartment during my last year, but by then, I was used to binging, and couldn’t help myself. That’s never really stopped, even when I’ve been able to lose weight, which is what happened when I became immortal, but it’s coming back now, so I have to be really careful. Anyway, I’m sure you don’t wanna hear any more about my eating disorder and weight issues.

Microstory 1413: King Trashcan

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In the beginning, there was chaos in Springfield, Kansas, Durus. The mayor died immediately, and the council was in shambles. There was no one to lead the survivors; at least no one willing to do it who could command the people effectively. This was the truth as a blacksmith whose real name has never been important saw it. The reality was that Councilwoman Hardt was a military brat who followed in her parents’ footsteps. So she knew how to stay calm in a desperate situation. She was fully prepared to remain in charge of the town while they figured out how to survive in this dangerous new world. Smith had other plans. Being a leader was not in his nature. He was a simple worker who was leading a simple life when the Deathfall happened. He had never set his sights on public service, which made sense, because he never did serve the public. He was selfish, manipulative, and entitled. He didn’t care about the town, or even about maintaining his power. He was just sick of living in his crappy studio apartment, and wanted to spend his days in luxury. Taking charge was the only way to do that now. There was no more money, and no more order. If you wanted something, you had to take it, and be prepared to go up against anyone who stood in your way. Fortunately for him, most of the townsfolk did not see this as their situation. They were horrified and exhausted, but they felt the best way to get through it was to work together. To them, no money meant that everyone was on the same level now. Their naïveté made it easier for Smith to walk all over them, and be the only one willing to do whatever it took to stay on top. He wasn’t particularly intelligent, and he didn’t really ever have any kind of master plan. He just kept trying to take as much as he possibly could while pretending to have everyone else’s best interest at heart. He was good at putting on a show, and even when people pointed out his hypocrisy, there was nothing they could do about it. He appealed to the audience that first started listening to him; the ones that were the most distrustful of Hardt already. Not surprisingly, his most loyal followers were composed of nearly all men. They took the town through passive-aggressive threats, rather than identifiable force. And when someone tried to call them out on it, they lobbed these feelings right back in the detractor’s direction, gaslighting everyone nearby into thinking this person was the crazy one. Most did not care for his rule, and would have rather seen someone like Hardt keep them safe instead, but rising against the establishment was difficult, and prone to failure. His loyalists called him President. His critics called him a tyrant. But history would know him as the worst leader Durus ever saw. He was universally hated, even by the misogynists of later years. He was King Trashcan, and this was the beginning of the despotocratic Smithtatorship.

Microstory 725: Credos, Convention Two: Collaboration, Chapter One

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The wandering child lifted his hand from the canister and admired it. The water of light inside had left a film over his skin that glimmered and shone brightly. He could use this light like a torch. He did not know how long it would last, but it was a lovely gift. He opened the second canister, and then placed his other hand inside of it, excited to watch another story unfold before his eyes. It began like this. There once was a world of great strife. Other planets had experienced world wars that soaked the land in blood, and tore it apart, and many more would have such conflicts, but this was unlike any other. There were dozens of countries, and each one was fighting all of the others. Long before this time, a summit was held in a neutral zone. Hoping to prevent all future war, alliances were deemed criminal. This meant that any nation wishing to wage war against another would have to do so by their own resources. All imports would have to cease immediately. The hope was that leaving them so defenseless would cause them to think twice about what they wanted, and ultimately choose to let their grievance go. For many years, this worked, and the world saw peace. But something happened, and a chain reaction of hatred boiled over upon the hearts of all nations, leading to a crisis that threatened to destroy all life. As a small miracle, however, this major conflict did end before everyone died, though the population was diminished significantly. Where once there were billions, there now were only hundreds of thousands. Not all nations survived with more than a few individuals, in fact. The world was all but dead, but these survivors thought up a plan. Instead of multiple countries, they would converge into one. There would be one nation; one peoples; one world. And a second great peace began. In order to maintain this peace, they imprisoned the former leaders of their respective original nations. All of them had survived, for they were greedy aristocrats living safely in bunkers and fortified towers. And ye, the story of collaboration is not over.

Microstory 724: Credos, Convention One: Coordination, Chapter Two

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And then the farmers went into the fields and asked, “why do the crops not grow?” A man was walking in the fields, and heard their question, and answered, “the crops did not grow because it has been but a day.” And so the farmers waited until the next day, and they went back to the fields, and noted, “the crops still did not grow.” The man was still there, and he explained, “you still have not waited long enough. The crops will grow when they are ready.” And so the farmers waited another two weeks, and the crops grew a little, but then they died. They asked, “why did the crops die?” The man answered, “there are many reasons. Here you have planted two seeds too close together, and they fought for nutrients, and then both died, for half nutrients it not enough for any plant, for this is no such thing as a half plant.” “I planted one of those seeds, but I did not plant the other,” said one of the farmers. “I planted that other seed,” another farmer said, but I did not plant the one that he planted.” “You must coordinate,” the man told them. They heard him, but they did not listen. So they burned the land and tried again, but the crops died again. After looking at it, the man said, “here you have planted a western yipeflower next to tinge ivy. Tinge ivy is known for choking out all other plants. Tinge ivy is not a food, but it can protect your garden from weeds and some predators. Plant it along the perimeter, but watch it so it does not stray inside. Trim it back if it becomes unruly. They burned the land and tried once more, and some of their crops grew, but not all. “These are the seeds of hacklefruit. Hacklefruit cannot survive on a world such as this, for there is too much argon in its atmosphere.” “What is to be done?” the farmers asked. “Our forefathers have sold hacklefruit for decades. Our customers are counting on us to grow them.” “You must grow hacklefruit on another planet.” “But we must grow them with the kulien, and the pelby, for they go together in salads. If we grow them on different planets, how will we get them to the same markets?” The man smiled, “you must coordinate”. And then they understood, and all was well, for the light of three suns shone upon two gardens, and the plants grew, and the people ate hack salads.

Microstory 723: Credos, Convention One: Coordination, Chapter One

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The beginning of the journey of the wandering child; a child was born on a world, and he would grow up to be a great man. When he was a child, he came across a creature in the creek near his home. The creature had the body of a fish, and the head of a woman. When he first saw her, she was eating the other fish. He asked her, “why do you eat your own kind?” She replied, “we all eat our own kind. We take from our brethren. We kill, we conquer, we colonize. Everyone is a cannibal. I just do it my own way.” Then the fish woman moved on. The boy followed her. “Excuse me,” he asked, “what are you?” “I am what I am,” she replied, still swimming happily. “But what is your kind called? If you are not fish, nor woman, what could you be? Was one of your parents a fish, and the other a woman?” She answered, who I am is unimportant, for the only question you should be asking is who are you?” And the boy realized that he did not know who he was. “I am but a child. Should I know myself already?” “You should know what you want out of life, at least.” “I came to eat fish.” “Then eat fish.” “I am looking for a purpose, however.” “A quest?” “A quest, yes.” The fish woman sped up, and hopped over a branch that was hanging down. “There is a quest,” she told him. “You can open the Canisters of Cultivation. That is a fine quest.” The boy asked, “what are the Canisters of Cultivation?” “They hold the secrets of the universe. They will bring order to a cosmos of chaos.” This interested the boy, and so he agreed. And so the fish woman sent him on his journey to find the special canisters. She could not go with him, but she gave him a cup. Whenever he needed help, he could fill the cup with water, and she would appear in it, and she could help. For ye, the fish woman of Coulr Creek was convenient and comforting. At the source of the creek was an everlasting spring. There on the bank were fourteen canisters. He tried to open one, but failed. He tried another, but it would not open either. He filled the cup with water and spoke with the fish woman again. She told him that the canisters must be opened in order. And so the wandering child walked over to the first canister, and opened it, and it opened. He tried to open the second canister, but it would not open, so he fill the cup with water again, and asked for help a second time. She said that he could not simply open the canisters. He would have to first learn from them. “Stick your arm into the canister.” He stuck his hand into the first canister, and it transported him to another place; not his body, but his mind. He could see a farmhouse, and people walking out of it. He could not speak with them, for he was not there. This was but a memory.

Microstory 572: Amnesia Patients Receive Erroneous Memory Infusions

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When then-President of Development at Sikie International Knowledge Insights Enterprises. stood before a press conference, he promised us one thing; the cure for all memory-related neurological disorders within ten years. That was five years ago, and it has recently come to the attention of the authorities that this is a promise Sikie will not be able to fulfill. The board of directors, according to documentation recovered by SDS detectives, has been acutely aware of this fact for at least a year, however. In response to this problem, they redirected resources towards a new strategy. They decided to refocus all efforts on one singular technomedical advancement: memory infusions. By aggregating data from medical histories, correspondence, criminal reports, second-hand accounts and other anecdotal evidence, along with many other resources, Sikie believed that memories could be reconstructed and implanted in the damaged brain. They believed that the brain simply possessing the verifiable evidence of past events could be enough for that brain to fill in the gaps, and possibly even restore the actual memories hidden away in broken neural connections.

Historically, amnesia patients, for instance, have been told about who they are. They meet their loved ones, and are shown photographic evidence of their adventures together, with the hope that something will spark their memories. Sikie’s new process was an attempt to expand on this by actually inserting these data into the neurosubstrate itself, thereby allowing the brain to absorb that information physically. Unfortunately for Sikie, and its early program testers, this method does not work. At best, patients possess a distant understanding of these ‘memories’ but no emotional attachment to them, as if recounting nothing more than a fictional narrative. At worst, the process further damaged the patient neurologically, leading to a life of even less quality than they had before. It is for this reason that a second round of testing was ordered, but with even more unethical parameters. Recorded data is supplemented by the transferred memories of others. Without their reasoned consent, the brains of the patient’s loved ones were scanned. Their memories were then extracted, and inserted into the patient’s brain. The hope was that the memories of their events together, coupled with the original data, would create an even clearer picture of their time together, and these memories will enrich other memories through a snowball effect. Of course, this method did not work either, leaving patients with altered perceptions, and dissociative disorders. They no longer felt like themselves, but a horrific amalgamation of other people they knew. So far, only ground floor researchers have been arrested by the SDS, but an investigation into everyone who possibly knew what was going on the department is presently underway.

Microstory 346: Weight Control

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Exercise

As I mentioned before, I’ve developed a binge eating disorder. Weight wasn’t anything I worried about growing up. Other people in my family did, but I was always really skinny. What I was too stupid to understand at the time was that this was because of how active I was. I was working out almost every day. My God, at one point, I was going to gymnastics three times a week. Why was I doing that? I hate competition, so it’s not like I was training for the Olympics. Whatever my reasoning, it all stopped when I went to college. But that alone would have been okay, because I was already starting from a pretty good place. Other things, however, were at play. I’ve always been very money-conscious as well, so when I discovered that the dorm cafeteria was all-you-can-eat, I went overboard. I decided to eat as much as I could each time I swiped my card to get the most out of the money already spent. And this all came out of a lack of education. Your body needs time to digest and process the nutrients and carbohydrates it gets from food. This is why we eat a few meals per day, rather than just gathering all of our calories in the beginning, and saving time. I didn’t know this, so eating two or three burgers at dinner seemed like a perfectly reasonable solution to the fact that I was only allotted so many meals. I’m ashamed to admit that I gained 45 pounds in college. Afterwards, I went through periods of dropping that back down, but I still wasn’t getting much exercise, so it could only take me so far. At this point in my life, I would say that it’s worse than ever. I have a job where I have to keep moving, but that really builds muscle without burning fat. Plus, I’ve recently quit that position anyway. But now that I’ll be making me more money, I need to commit to fixing myself, starting with eating less food at more meals.

Freedom from Persecution

Microstory 345: Exercise

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Career Integrity

Whenever anyone’s ever talked to me about exercise, they always have some idea of the best way to do it. I’ve also read articles about what you’re supposed to do, and what you’re not. The truth is that different kinds are good for different things. Lifting weights isn’t going to get your heart rate up, but swimming isn’t really going to increase muscle mass. It just depends on what you’re trying to get out of the activity. When I was a child, I didn’t seek out exercise, it was just something that happened to me. I played baseball for however many years long (don’t remember). I started gymnastics very early on because I saw someone on television do what I later learned was a roundoff backhandspring backflip. After eleven years of practice, I was finally able to do that myself. Looking back, it should not have taken that long. Anyway, the point is that I wasn’t trying to stay healthy, especially not when my parents made me join the dive team in high school. These were just incidental, and I didn’t realize how much good they were doing for me until I went to college and promptly stopped exercising. I wasn’t doing anything. I walked to class, but sometimes not even that. My dog still lived back home, so I wasn’t going out with her. I was leading a very sedentary life, and developing a binge eating disorder, but I’ll talk more on that later. It was only a couple years ago that I decided to start hiking again, which was something I had done, again incidentally, through the scouting program. That was one of the best choices I made in my life, and I wish I could do it more. I wish I had the money for a treadmill so that I could multitask with it. But I need to get past my roadblocks and understand that there are ways to exercise without paying any money at all. I hope you’re getting some level of exercise, whether it be yoga, dancing, or even running.

Weight Control

Microstory 332: Freedom from Debt

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Steady Income

People of all classes have experienced debt. Sure, there are some rich people out there who have no clue what it’s like to owe money, but it’s also not reserved only for poor people. It’s harder for the poor, of course, because it’s more difficult for them to get to a place where they can pay it off. A few years back, my favorite radio station personalities were talking about debt and saving money. One of them said that, when he was worse off, he never saved money. If ever he came into extra cash, he would immediately spend it on whatever he owed. He had lapsed on, for example, his electricity bill, or had bought something on layaway. He said that you would think someone in that position would want to set money aside when they could, but that time never came until his life changed. I’ve always been good with money only because I don’t need much. I spend on food, television, and internet. I suffer from a binge eating disorder that digs into my wallet more than I would like, but most of my life exists on the web. From my perspective, I don’t need to go out and buy a new picture frame when I can just pull the image up on my computer. This has kept me in relatively good standing, even when I couldn’t find steady work. In fact, it was only recently that I started paying for things I didn’t literally have the money for in my bank account. I don’t use credit cards, I use my debit card. I did get lucky in a certain sense, however. I received a significant amount of scholarship money from my family’s church, so college was paid off before I thought to ask my parents about it. But I can’t tell you how good it feels to not be in debt, because I’ve yet to truly experience that. I hope you one day will, if you’ve not yet.

Ability to Save Money

Microstory 319: Safety from Chaos

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Neuropsychological Function

Though everyone is worried about threats like terrorism, some people are more worried than others. I hear a lot of outcry about the government’s prying eyes. Everyone thinks they’re entitled to their privacy, yet also feel entitled to knowing what everyone else is up to. No one wants their browser history revealed to the world, but as soon as they find out their elected officials have been keeping secrets from them, then it might as well be the end of the world. People like to spout the word freedom, but they don’t really know what that means. The truth is that no country is completely free. If it were, it would likely die out, because that would be chaos. There is this thing called the social contract. Basically what this means is that you agreed to give up some of your rights in exchange for protection. This protection comes with stipulations; notably those in place to keep everyone within the population safe, even from each other. Some value this safety, while others only freedom. I happen to be of the first camp. You do not have the right to know absolutely everything the government is doing just because you’re a citizen, or because you voted, or because you pay taxes. National security is more important than you knowing “the truth”. And to that, we can’t just get rid of the government altogether, because then we wouldn’t be a country. We would be a collection of corporations, and I’m not sure why people want that. Libertarians want more “freedom” and less government. I want more government, and fewer terrorist attacks. You signed the social contract, whether you realize it or not. The government is there to prevent invasion, occupation, and annihilation by the hands of our enemies. It is also there to support the populace and guard against chaos. If you were a patriot, like me, you would understand that.

Geographic Stability Part I

Microstory 318: Neuropsychological Function

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Disease Prevention

When I say neuropsychological function, I’m really just using it as an umbrella term for all things that have to do with the brain and mind. As with many other needs, I struggled to find a place for it in the list. It sort of feels like it’s something you don’t want to worry about until other issues are resolved, but there is an argument for its earlier placement. I suppose, in the end, I decided to treat it as a bridge between personal needs and societal needs. Most, if not all, needs I’ve discussed thus far have involved an individual’s ability to survive. Everyone needs those things somewhat independently of how they relate to others. Psychological health, however, is a global issue; one that every nation and subculture has a responsibility to deal with, in some way. If there is no general drive towards a world of well-adjusted, fulfilled people, then there is probably no world at all. As I’ve said before, I was recently diagnosed with Autistic Spectrum Disorder. Autism, as a word, comes with a lot of stigma, so it’s not a perfect description, but the word disorder probably does people like me the biggest disservice. I’m personally happy with who I am, and I wouldn't call my autism a mental health issue. My duty to find my place in the world is no more important than anyone else’s. It is, perhaps, simply more difficult. All this means is that I’m not one to believe we should all possess the same brain chemistry. But there are things that people of certain mental conditions struggle with, and these problems should be addressed accordingly. Likewise, a population must consider these problems as a whole, and try to find ways to make everyone capable of enjoying life. The first step in solving any problem is education. We could all learn something from the mental state of someone else.

Safety from Chaos

Microstory 312: Cleanliness

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Intuition

Unlike other stories I’ve written for the Stepwisdom series, for this one, I’m going to be a little bit more personal. I have something called Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. This gives me a lot of ticks and unnatural habits, but it also demands I be excessively clean. I’m constantly worried about cross-contamination. I don’t like touching something I deem unclean, and then touching something that is clean, because then I have just polluted it. I remember the day I first learned about hand sanitizer; it was as if God reached down and gave me a little kiss. Unfortunately, this discovery also enhanced my need to be clean, because suddenly, it could be achieved instantly, and at pretty much any time. I keep a small bottle of it attached to my hip, and this tends to freak people out, so I just have to ignore their judgments. I grew up in a clean household, though, so I always understood it. We don’t wear our shoes in the house, and we shower before bed, because if you shower in the mornings, then your whole house is perpetually dirty, and how the hell do you not even realize this? I know I have a condition, but come on, you sleep in dirt? That doesn’t bother you? Cleanliness is an indicator of a developed society, one that not every culture has the luxury of. Uncleanliness leads to poor hygiene, and thus disease, but to a certain degree, it can also lead to immunity. It is said that “you have to eat a peck of dirt before you die”. This is true figuratively, but also literally. I always knew that exposure to dirt was important so that my immune system would know how to fight off disease, so I make a point sullying my hands on certain occasions. Always keep your children clean, but let them get dirty first.

Vitamins, Minerals, and Proteins

Microstory 265: Perspective Forty

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Perspective Thirty-Nine

My husband thinks that our family life is going to get better if we spend a night each week playing games. I thought it would be fun, but it’s started stressing me out. Intellectually, I know he’s trying his best, probably. But I can’t help but feel that he is just covering for something bad. I haven’t always been faithful in our relationship. I haven’t gone all the way or anything, but still, he knows about it, and I know that he’s just waiting for his moment to use it against me. I’m always worried that he’s going to abandon me for his mistress. Whoever she is, I’m sure she’ll treat him right. Probably. Lord knows I don’t. But that’s just who I am. I’m a bad person. What am I supposed to do about it? I was born broken, and there’s nothing I can do to fix myself. Sure, I can take the medicine my psychiatrist prescribes me, but exactly how much can that do? These tiny little pills are packed with what, magic? I’ve always had a hard time believing in that kind of medicine. if you give me a vial of something, or if you inject something into my blood, then I can kind of see how that works. But pills just seem completely ineffective to me. I don’t feel any different. I guess he did say that there was only so much they could do anyway; that the pills can only help with my anger and stabilize my moods a bit. It’s hard to take him seriously, though. He probably has dozens of other patients that he cares about far more than me. And why should he focus on me? It’s not like I have suicidal thoughts or anything. I mean, sure, that would take the pain away, and it would be easier for my family if they just didn’t have to worry about what I was going to do next, but death isn’t a good answer. Probably. All I need to do is be a better person. I can do that. I can fake it, even if it means I have to do it forever. I just need to watch how good people act and mirror them. Shouldn’t be too hard. Probably.

Perspective Forty-One

Microstory 264: Perspective Thirty-Nine

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Perspective Thirty-Eight

Not long ago, my wife was diagnosed with what our current health professionally prefers to call emotionally unstable personality disorder. This means that her behavior changes on a regular basis due to intense feelings of neglect and betrayal. She is constantly worried that people around her are either purposely making decisions against her best interests, or simply that they will leave her. But then she has these moments, sometimes that last for months, where she is extremely happy and affectionate. I’ve always known that she was different; I dated her for long enough to see these transitions, but I wish we had had the official diagnosis for longer. If I had understood more precisely what she was going through, I could have treated the situation better. I should have treated it better either way, though, shouldn’t I have? I learned little tips and tricks to make sure that she was as comfortable as possible. I was usually able to subside her massive depressions and suicidal thoughts by saying the right things, but I know now that this was not enough. I was encouraging these feelings and just waiting for them to go away rather than dealing with them and actually helping her through it. If she was treating someone poorly, I wouldn’t just straight up let her do it, but I would mirror her thoughts so that I could slowly redirect her to a more healthy outlook. Our daughter has always felt the worst of it, and she’s never known why. We raised her completely erratically and unreliably. We’ve let her do what she wanted, we’ve punished her severely, we’ve just left the care to herself. That wasn’t right because it made her think that she was doing something wrong, and that she could never be sure what was going to happen to her next. I intend to work as hard as I can to not only help my wife feel better, but also ensure my daughter’s happiness. I’m looking into some options to help us become a better family. I think everyone could do with a little therapy, but I also have this idea to institute mandatory family game night. I hope I’m making the right decision this time.

Perspective Forty