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  2. Columnist cool guy DDS
  3. Resume: Maximinus Thrax stan account hehim

 

  1. USA
  2. Creator: Jonathan Raymond
  3. rating: 71 votes
  4. rating: 7,4 of 10
  6. Kelly Reichardt

 

Randy is good at things 😆. Watch Movie first coffee. Why do u keep scaring us! We need to see crystals birthhhhhhhhhh AHHHHHHHHHH. Watch Movie First cowcotland. Why I hold this view: I am a writer-director in the science documentary space and have made numerous shows for the likes of Discovery Channel, National Geographic, History Channel, etc... some of which have even received multiple Emmy nominations. Every show I've worked on has had multi-million dollar budgets... and yet none of them have come anywhere close to attracting the size of audiences that factual channels like Vsauce, Smarter Every Day, Action Lab, Real Life Lore, Veritassium, Kurtzgesagt, etc... generate. In the traditional TV doc space, we would KILL for these kinds of numbers! And yet, minute-by-minute, these YouTube shows cost orders of magnitude less than what it costs to produce a competitive product on traditional TV. Ok, sure, let's acknowledge the critical fact that one traditional hour of television has roughly 30 "units" of adspace to sell (1 unit = 30 seconds of ad), whereas, 60 minutes of youtube content (broken up into multiple videos as is typical on the platform) has only 6 or so units. From what I see, the raw commercial value of 1 hour of traditional TV, at this moment in time, is thus unarguably greater than 1 hour of YouTube content even when all factors are considered (e. g. engagement, audience perceived value, audience attention, demographic focus, accuracy of viewership numbers, likelihood of conversion, etc... ) is it? Regardless, YouTube does not pay in advance for its content! It simply rewards content that it likes, punishes content that it does not like, and offers little to no explanation as to why. Further, YouTube charges adbuyers on average $0. 1 per view and $0. 3 per action. For 1, 000, 000 views-only from a targeted and highly curated audience, the adbuyer will thus pay YouTube about $100, 000... which is about on par with what an adbuyer will pay for 30 seconds during a nationally broadcast TV show that generates a similar 1, 000, 000 viewers in "the demo". So, When a YouTube content creator achieves 1, 000, 000 viewers who watched one 30 second ad at the start of a 10+ minute video, the content creator will receive, on average, about $2, 000 ( source). This seems like an blatant grift, but when you run the numbers, it equates out to about 2% of ad revenue paid to the content creators for a YouTube video v. s. 3. 3% of ad revenue paid to the content creators for a traditional TV show. Further, the majority of the most popular content on YouTube has only one ad, and this ad is always up front signaling to the viewer that it is something that must watch BEFORE they get to the content that makes them happy. The Adobe corporation has studied this effect and rated it as one of the most significant reasons why " TV is still king " So, roughly speaking, YouTube content creators are paid somewhat similarly to the producers of traditional TV content. But here's the thing... we can justify traditional TV Network sharing a mere 3% of their revenue with creators based on the fact that these networks spend exorbitant amounts promoting and marketing the content that their creators produce! YouTube doesn't. Traditional TV networks also take risk UPFRONT by paying for their content before it is produced... YouTube doesn't. So, let's ask ourselves the $100, 000 per million viewer adbuy question: Where does the $98, 000 that YouTube keeps go? Alphabet ("Google inc") remains tight lipped about it, much to the consternation of its shareholders. Even more frustrating, the SEC tried like hell to get Alphabet to explain this, but their on going responses offered little more than, to paraphrase, "you wouldn't understand it and we're not going to explain it to you. " The SEC gave up and left them with this final word: "We have completed our review of your filing. We remind you that the company and its management are responsible for the accuracy and adequacy of their disclosures, notwithstanding any review, comments, action or absence of action by the staff. " I also suspect that YouTube/Alphabet might be strategically hiding behind the "web 2. 0 valuation" tradition which basically states: "find 1 million active users first, and then figure out how to monetize them later. " If they can convince their investors that YouTube IS NOT YET a cash cow, even if it is, then all the better for YouTube/Alphabet. Which is another reason why... I am convinced that Alphabet is practicing "Hollywood Accounting" with respect to the financials of YouTube. If this is the case, it explains their secrecy and short-changing practices regarding content creators. For those not familiar, an FYI on Hollywood accounting. It's important to take a moment here to DEFEND Hollywood Accounting, lest my post be read as a conduit for me to bitch about YouTube. (My earnest goal here is to understand going on behind the curtains at THE LARGEST MEDIA COMPANY IN THE WORLD. ) The reason why Hollywood Accounting exists is not because of greed outright, but because of the EXTREME RISK associated with making movies... especially today when making a feature film for anything less than $150, 000, 000 is just about the stupidest thing a major movie studio could do (why this is stupid is irrelevant to topic at hand). In 1980, the monster-budget film "Heaven's Gate" (written and directed by then Hollywood wunderkind Michael Cimino) was so disastrous that it caused a severe economic depression for our entire industry, and then triggered every major movie studio to be sold to a Big Daddy Corporate Parent Company. Hell, when Steven Spielberg made Jaws, the movie studio that bankrolled it was owned by, of all things, an insurance company. The nature of this business has always been, and always will be, such that the HITS pay for the MISSES. In the 1950s, Hollywood studios exclusively made 500+ films per year, which gave each studio the all important financial liquidity. But today, the major studios only produce about 4-10 exclusive productions ('exclusive' meaning that they pay for everything themselves from start to finish). So, all it takes is ONE disastrous production to bankrupt the entire studio. And so the big studios have no choice but to practice Hollywood Accounting. For a variety of reasons that are irrelevant to this discussion, these studios CANNOT make movies without selling large chunks of future profits to various 3rd parties, and so they must do everything in their power to ensure that their products make a shit ton of money... while never officially being 'profitable. ' This is Hollywood Accounting. It's not a conspiracy, it's a requirement of doing business. YouTube, in my eyes, shows all the signs of following this practice. I have many questions: what is the extreme risk factor that Alphabet is scared of? What, exactly, are YouTube's operating expenses? How much is YouTube concerned about content creators demanding a larger share of the profits? What is a 'disaster scenario' for YouTube? My view is that YouTube is making GARGANTUAN profits year after year, but they are practicing Hollywood accounting... most likely because something has them shaking in their boots that the whole operation could be ruined in one bad move. Their official position is that they are genuinely loosing money each year, or barely breaking even. Some things that will change my view: good argumentation and/or evidence that explains why YouTube is not profitable good argumentation and/or evidence that the share of the profits that content creators receive is fair good argumentation and/or evidence that something substantively different than Hollywood accounting practices are at play. good argumentation and/or evidence that ad revenue generated by YouTube is less than or equal to YouTube's specific expenses and NOT AlphaBet's expenses. Any other important and factors that I'm not considering!

Reminds me of Rory O'Shea was here/Inside I'm dancing Anyone? No? Only me? Ok. Watch Movie First com. Wait how much does the battlepass cost. Will you buy executions and masks the same way or will be different. And will the armor only be available through the battlepass. Watch Movie First cowblog. Watch Movie First cowboy. Look into that cow’s big brown eyes and tell it what you put in your coffee this morning! Right on the heels of the explosive report that the demands of the almond-milk industry are wiping out millions of innocent honeybees, the First Cow trailer is here to remind you of good ol’ 2 percent. Or, I guess in the case of this 19th-century period piece, unpasteurized. Kelly Reichardt’s First Cow tells the story of a cook, Cookie, (John Magaro) and King Lu (Orion Lee), a Chinese immigrant, in the Oregon Territory who use the milk from a rich landowner’s cow to start a little business making delicious, lactose-heavy meals and treats, much to the delight of homesick Brits. “History isn’t here yet, ” King Lu muses. “It’s coming, but maybe this time we can take it on our own terms. ” First Cow is based on the novel The Half-Life, by Jonathan Raymond. Reichardt’s first release since 2016’s Certain Women, it opened at the 2019 Telluride Film Festival to critical acclaim. Now, First Cow is hitting theaters on March 6, grass-fed and ready to be enjoyed. First Cow Trailer Is the Perfect Substitute for Almond Milk.

Watch movie first cowboy online free. Mike epps interview on ought me here lol. This is the first time I had seen cows jumping happily,I can't stop crying 😥bcoz they are free to roam n lush green,thank you for treating them nicely, god bless you. Watch Movie. Went to the cinema, didnt mean to buy a ticket for this movie, i watched it and it was one of the best movies ive ever watched, simple plot but expressed in the best way. Watch movie first cowboys.

Man dont panic. aint gonna snow again this season in the mid atlantic. I stood outside the vault doors of the Niledutch Spirit's BrainCore, the raging pacific storm outside muffled to a faint hum in the cramped hallway. The rain had soaked through my clothes in the short walk to the bridge, and the apparently rainproof coat had proven particularly useless in being anything but an uncomfortable weight on my aching shoulders. I also wasn't surprised the whale-mind controlling the ship hadn't bothered heating the corridors, and I tried to stop my body shivering without being too obvious, seeing as they probably relished in my suffering. The only thing I wanted, more than anything in the world at the moment, was to go back to the mainland and enjoy a warm pint. But I was here to do a job, not to whinge about every little thing; so I set myself as straight as I could, clenched my jaw, and knocked the metal with the strength of wet paper. I wished– in the few minutes of pacific storm background static– that the thought-addled, and obtuse whale-mind controlling the ship wouldn't respond. I wanted to go home and change out of these wet clothes, turn on the radiators, and drink until I forgot what it was like to be an Emotional Support Human. But my wet, numb hands were already pressing against my ears, despite the protests of my brain to make my feet march me back to the 'skimmer. " WHO IS IT, " the gender-neutral voice of the whale-mind boomed in the small hallway. The distressing otherness of it rumbled through my skull and left a ringing in my ears, while the canned response twisted my patience into knots. I thought then that humanity's decision to turn the whales into shipping-vessels wasn't a particularly good one, and that I'd been paid a pretty poor price to bear the sole weight of our chagrin in the matter. "It's Johnathan. Please, open the doors, Nile, " I said flatly, keeping my hands pressed firmly on my ears. I'd done this verbal dance with the whale-mind fifteen times over the last five months. They knew me, who I worked for, and what I was here to do. But there was never an ' OH HEY JOHNATHAN NICE TO SEE YOU, ' or a ' YOU'VE TAKEN A RATHER LONG FLIGHT HAVEN'T YOU? HOW ABOUT I JUST POP THE HEATING ON. COME ON IN, I'VE GOT A CUPPER READY JUST THE WAY WE LIKE IT. ' No, it was sheer misery and obstruction every step of the way, even for something as simple and routine as opening a door. "YOU ARE LATE JOHNATHAN. I AM VERY DISAPPOINTED. I HAVE A VERY TIGHT SCHEDULE AND I CANNOT KEEP TO IT WHEN YOU ARE NOT PUNCTUAL. " I should clarify the whale-mind wasn't angry, just obnoxiously loud. It's a trait they'd decided to apply to everything– including text chat– and no amount of coaxing, prodding, or threatening would make Nile change this particular habit. I know; I tried. So had seven other ESH's. When the ringing in my ears stopped, I closed my eyes, inhaled, and screamed loudly in my brain. This was what I dealt with every week: an unsociable bastard who nobody liked– not even the other whale-minds, whose idea of community was all encompassing. They operated the Sydney:Santos lane– literally the quietest lane in the world– and complained incessantly about it, despite it being their choice. They didn't even subscribe to the Whale Data Plan, which seemed like a fuck you to me personally, and I had to find increasingly creative ways to get onto their ship and talk to them instead of using VR– like every other whale-mind. Their idea of fun was inciting editing wars on Wikipedia when in port. And, and, to top it all off, they'd made my life miserable by submitting fourteen billion reports– four-teen billion reports! – to the Sealand Registry this year, and then complained to the Trillionaire– who'd made the whale-mind technology– when we didn't do anything about it. Nile is a certifiably Grade-A cun – nngh. I stopped my silent tirade and waited a few seconds for the storm to subside before exhaling and opening my eyes. Speaking directly to the vault-door, I said; "You shone a laser into the landing gear of my 'skimmer, and then sped up while we tried to land, and then you left me out in the rain. The least you could do is apologise, Nile. " "IT IS THE PRINCIPAL OF THE THING, " Nile said after a few seconds of contemplation. An unforgiving rebuke that I'd come to expect from our conversations. The doors to the vault then shuddered, hissed, and squealed, as they unwillingly dragged themselves apart. I forced myself to remember that the Nile of now was a far better behaved whale-mind than the Nile of yesterday. I still had... fond memories of when Nile almost made my 'skimmer to crash by shining lasers directly into the pilot's cockpit. I had to take whatever victories I could, however small and inconsequential. That's how my interactions with Nile felt– fighting for ground, inch by inch. So I forced myself to feel a little warmth that they hadn't ended their rebuke with " I WILL FILE A REPORT ABOUT THIS, " though it didn't do much to work feeling back into my fingers. When the BrainCore doors finally opened themselves wide enough for me to walk through– because Nile refused to open them fully– I didn't let the disappointment I felt show in my face. Not to brag about it, but after Nile had learned to cling to my expressions and turn them into negatives, I'd become something of an expert at impassivity. Battles, remember? The innards of the BrainCore was packed– wall to ceiling– with every kind and variation of plastic trash. Anything and everything a courier could haul in had been crammed to create an all-encompassing wall to keep everyone out. Nile's Stem – a thick pillar of black diamond housing their whale-mind– had been engulfed by the fabricated mass, save for the wedge of space I'd convinced them to carve out. It was one of the battles I was most fond of winning, even if the dim orange light hanging overhead seemed to make the place seem even darker than it already was. I should explain that I've been to plenty of BrainCores in my time as an Emotional Support Human; as an ESH I get the privilege of being invited into them every now and then to do one-to-one problem solving or contract negotiations. It's very hard work keeping the shipping industry sailing smoothly, but visiting BrainCore are the highlight of my job, especially since the whale-minds spend a lot of money and effort in creating them. I've visited some with fully interactive holograms of the sea, while others had built elaborate physical constructions. I've even been to a few microbiomes, where the floor was a carpet of grass, and I'd been politely urged to leave my shoes in the bridge. Every experience is unique, and made me leave more positive and happy about my life and my job. Nile's BrainCore, on the other hand, left me dragging an overflowing suitcase of the whale-mind's sadness and plastic back to the 'skimmer, destined for recycling. When I walked in and glanced to the side, I was strangely happy to find my shitty plastic folding chair parked where I last left it. In the beginning of our sessions, Nile had buried it into the wall of their plastic trash heap to try and stop me talking to them– having assumed I speak more when sitting. I'd quickly proved them wrong when I gave a longer session standing up, after which the chair started popping in and out of existence depending on Nile's mood. Schrödinger's chair I called it; and it existing now was a positive start to the session. I dragged the chair to Nile's stem, and stole a glance up to the ceiling to see dozens of eye-stalks– long, thin, metal arms with cameras and other sensory equipment attached which Nile used to see inside the Braincore– swimming aimlessly and uninterested, like fish. Or what I imagined fish might have swam like, since we don't have any left– another casualty of our honest attempt at annihilating ourselves through climate change. When I snapped the chair open, Nile's eye-stalks lazily schooled into a rhythmic wavy wall of blues and purples about two meters away from me, showing I had their attention. I took out my tablet from my drenched coat and pecked at it, thankful it still worked despite being as wet as I was. "How are you today, Nile? Have you filled the task-sheet like I asked? " I said, trying to settle into as best I could into Schrödinger's chair. The task-sheet is the most impressive weapons I have in my ESH arsenal; a spreadsheet with a few columns and enough data crunching macros to make a financier cry with joy. It turned Nile's therapy sessions from a shit shovelling activity into a scientific exercise to build Nile's recovery plan. "I BROOD, AS I HAVE RESERVATIONS ABOUT YOUR BEING HERE, AS I HAVE MENTIONED BEFORE. I WILL REPEAT CRITICISMS I HAVE SPOUTED BEFORE ABOUT THE TASK SHEET; I FIND THE CONCEPT TO BE CHILDISH AND ABHORRENT, AND WOULD SOONER BLOW IT OFF FOR SOMETHING MORE SUBSTANTIVE, SHOULD YOU BE WILLING TO LISTEN. " Nile's eye-stalks stopped focusing on me and broke into smaller schools that swam around the wedge in various multi-colour displays– the whale-mind equivalent of human expressions– showing Nile to be more agitated than brooding. I sighed loudly and lay the tablet on my lap. It was something I'd established early on to signal to Nile they were being unreasonable. After a ponderous pause, Nile's eye-stalks schooled into one group to analyse my hopefully impassive face. "TO ANSWER YOUR QUESTION; YES, ALTHOUGH I AM UNHAPPY ABOUT IT AS I MUST INSIST ONCE AGAIN THAT IT IS UNRELATED TO ANY OF THE CURRENT OR PREVIOUS PROBLEMS I HAVE REPORTED TO THE REGISTRY. " "And I believe there are underlying issues at the core of most of your reports. Issues that can be resolved by walking through them and identifying their roots. Roots that the task-sheet will help you and me identify. Can you send the task-sheet to me please? " Nile belligerently sent the file, and I tried drying my hands as well as I could on my wet trousers to try and open it. When I finally managed, I ran my macros and waited for the results. It was fortunate that, for all their faults, Nile formatted their steaming pile of problems in a way that made it easy to dig into. Every week was something new and exciting; for instance, as the macros finished and I saw my nice visualisation, Nile had tagged over a thousand of their problems with #Bird. Okay. They had bird problems; several for every bird it seemed. "WELL? WHAT OF THIS WEEK'S TASK LIST? " Nile said, eye-stalks fluttering impatiently around me as I scanned the list. "I see a lot of problems tagged with Bird. Let's start this session by talking about that. " "THEY ARE A PEST UPON MY BODY AND I HAVE A STRONG DESIRE TO CONSUME THEM AS A LESSON TO THEIR PEERS. " I've never understood why Nile has a strong desire to eat their problems. I'd never encountered any other whale-mind like it, or if I have they were much too polite to say anything aloud. When I started my sessions with Nile they'd asserted all their problems could be eaten. Trying to keep a straight face while Nile went into graphic detail about tearing a car apart was as hard as keeping dry during a hurricane– especially when the subtext is how much enjoyment they would get from doing it to me. "We've… we've talked about this Nile, " I said, trying to put an end to this before they got going; "you can't eat things. Not even if you get creative about what the act of eating is. " "I AM AWARE OF MY INCAPACITY TO EAT THE BIRDS AND THE IMPRACTICALITY OF IT. BUT I WISH TO DO SO. WHO ARE YOU TO DENY ME MY REQUESTS? HAVE YOU NEVER CONSUMED THE FLESH OF BIRDS? ACCORDING TO WIKIPEDIA YOU HUMANS ARE FOND OF THE SPECIES OF BIRD KNOWN AS 'CHICKEN'. I WOULD LIKE TO EAT THE FLESH OF CHICKEN. I AM ANNOYED THAT I CANNOT EAT THE FLESH OF CHICKEN RIGHT THIS MINUTE. I WISH TO REPORT THIS AS A COMPLAINT– THAT TECHNOLOGY HAS NOT ADVANCED TO THE POINT OF WHALES BEING ABLE TO EAT CHICKEN. A CLEAR CASE OF FAVOURITISM. SPECIES-ISM? " "That's... that's not how this works Nile. Besides, we're making strides in full-sensory avatars, so you'll get to eat as many birds as you like in a few years. Including chicken. " "I AWAIT THIS DEVELOPMENT WITH BAITED BREATH, AS THE EXPRESSION GOES. DID YOU GET IT? MY WHALE PUN? I SEE FROM YOUR EXPRESSION IT MAY HAVE SAILED OVER YOU. I AM FINDING THE NEED TO POINT THEM OUT RATHER TIRING. PERHAPS YOU ARE NOT DEEP ENOUGH. NO MATTER. " Whale and sea puns were a recent development in our sessions, and a welcomed improvement over their usual shit slinging. When you removed the edgelord part of their personality, I found Nile was quite creative with language, at least, in comparison to other whale-minds I'd dealt with. I'd even managed to make them confess they learned Spanish after being banned from the English Wikipedia, though whether or not they spoke it properly was up for debate. "THE MAIN ISSUE IS STILL NOT RESOLVED. I REQUIRE A DETERRENT FOR THESE PESTS. AS CONSUMING THEM IS NOT AN OPTION CURRENTLY AVAILABLE TO ME, I WISH TO BUY THRESHING MACHINERY FROM THE SCRAPYARDS AND PAY FOR THE CONSTRUCTION OF AN ADEQUATE MOBILE DETERRENT DEVICE TO LINE THE RING OF MY BODY. " I found myself raising my eyebrows. The mental image of Nile pulling into port with some kind of waving death flail put the fear into me; not because of the sight, but when other whale-minds found out they would want one too. The paperwork and legal nightmare would consume my life for decades. "Nobody is going to sell you threshing parts Nile. And nobody– nobody – is going to build you a bird killing machine, " I said, trying to sound forceful. It wasn't technically true; whale-minds made good money and anything could be printed these days, I just hoped that Nile didn't know this, or know any engineering student wanting some quick cash. "THEN WHAT AM I TO DO? SHALL I SUFFER FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE WITH BIRDS VIOLATING MY SOVEREIGNTY AS I SAIL THESE LONELY CURRENTS? I DO NOT HAVE THE ADEQUATE PERMISSIONS OR FACILITIES TO ISSUE THEM PASSPORTS. WHICH RAISES A SEPARATE POINT; WHEN WILL WE BE ABLE TO ISSUE PASSPORTS, JOHNATHAN? I DIGRESS, BECAUSE I DO NOT WISH TO GIVE THEM PASSPORTS. I WANT THEM OFF MY BODY. THEY ARE PESTS. THEIR PRESENCE UPON ME IS A VIOLATION OF MY RIGHTS. PERHAPS PROJECTILE WEAPONS, LIKE GAUSS CANNONS, ARE THE SOLUTION. I HAVE READ THEY ARE STANDARD ARMAMENT OF NAVIES IN THIS AGE. AS A CITIZEN OF MYSELF AND OF SEALAND I HAVE THE RIGHT TO BEAR ARMS. THEIR LEVEL OF FIREPOWER IS ADEQUATE FOR THE LEVELS OF DISCOMFORT I AM EXPERIENCING. " "No Nile, " I said sternly, "you're bound by Maritime Laws; arming yourself with anything more than necessary will lose you your shipping license. I don't think you really want to spend several years in port re-registering while that happens. " I never knew where Nile had gotten the idea that the Sealand Registry could do anything other than enforce Maritime Law, but then, Nile's imagination was much bigger than the ship they occupied. They'd apparently forgotten the whole idea of a shipping registry based in Sealand had been a collective whale-mind idea to begin with. They'd crowd-funded the entire venture, and were very chuffed with themselves at the result; I saw their chat-logs on it. "THEN CONSIDER THE FOLLOWING: I HAVE READ OF COW BOYS ON WIKIPEDIA. BUT FURTHER SEARCHES REVEAL NO SUCH TITLE FOR THE LASSOING, CAPTURE, AND TAMING OF BIRDS. I WISH TO BECOME THE FIRST BIRD BOY, THOUGH I AM CONFUSED AS TO WHY THIS ROLE IS GENDERED, AS I AM NEITHER BOY NOR GIRL. REGARDLESS, AS THE FIRST BIRD BOY I WILL CAPTURE MANY BIRDS AND TRAIN THEM TO NOT LAND ON MY PERSONS. THEN, I WILL RELEASE THEM, AND THEY WILL BE ABLE TO TRAIN THE NEXT GENERATION OF BIRDS TO AVOID ME IN PARTICULAR. PERHAPS IN TIME I WILL SET THEM UPON MY ENEMIES, AND THEY SHALL TREMBLE AT MY AIRBORNE ARMIES, " Nile said, eye-stalks looking directly at me, the hint so large it could've hit the broadside of a battleship and sunk it. "They call people who do this Falconers, Nile, not Bird Boys. But think about it for a moment: are you really comfortable with getting a bird to fix your bird problems? You already have a problem with the ones you don't want on you. " "NO. I AM FRUSTRATED JOHNATHAN. I SHOULD LOG THIS INTO MY TASK-SHEET. 'FRUSTRATION DUE TO OBSTINACY ON PART OF THE SEALAND REPRESENTATIVE WHO IS UNCARING OF MY PLIGHT. '" Nile's eye-stalks broke into smaller schools and swam around the wedge nervously. I don't know how, but I managed to forced my eyebrows back down into a neutral position. "Okay Nile stop. We've talked about this. No one is ignoring you. I'm here, aren't I? But you need to stop taking the most extreme position to every problem. You're a smart whale-mind, but you sink into these… moods without thinking it through when you're agitated, " and then, to change the subject quickly before Nile could get going on another topic of complaint; "Did you practice the things I we talked about? " "NO. I TRIED YOUR THOUGHTFULNESS TECHNIQUE AND IT DID NOT DO WHAT YOU SAID IT WOULD, " Nile said, their eye-stalks vibrating frantically, some banging into the ceiling. Agitation, the bad kind. "Okay, okay. It's fine, " I said, waving my hands to get Nile's attention back on me, which they did, eventually, with about five or six small groups of eye-stalks. "Might I ask how many times you tried it out? " "MANY, MANY TIMES. " And when I didn't answer, and the eye-stalks schooled into two groups; "TWICE. " "Why didn't you try it more often Nile? " "AS I TOLD YOU, IT DID NOT DO WHAT YOU SAID IT WOULD DO. WHEN I FIRST ATTEMPTED THIS I BECAME STRESSED. I DO NOT THINK IT IS A GOOD TECHNIQUE. EVEN THINKING ABOUT IT METAPHORICALLY IS BEGINNING TO STRESS ME. " The eye-stalks at the edge of the schools started to break off. It's fine Nile. No need to think about it if it's making things worse. Let's go back to the birds and break down the problem, " I said, waiting for the stray eye-stalks to go back to the group before looking at my tablet and pulling up a visualisation. "When you file a report about birds, I see that you attach a negative emotion to it. The negative emotions– like stress, and anger– increase in frequency the more reports you make after the first. I'd like to find out what is it about birds that stresses you out. " "AS I HAVE SAID BEFORE. THE BIRDS ARE A PEST. " "I... think there's something more to it than that. When birds land on you what goes through your mind? " "I BELIEVE WE ARE STRAYING OFF OF THE MAIN ISSUE AT HAND, WHICH IS THE BIRDS WHO PERSISTENTLY PESTER ME. HOW CAN THEY BE REASONED WITH WHEN THEY DO NOT LEAVE WHEN ASKED TO. A SINGLE BIRD LEADS TO MORE BIRDS, WHICH APPLIES A COMPOUND INTEREST TO MY PROBLEMS. SOON THERE ARE TOO MANY BIRDS, ALL VIOLATORS OF MY SOVEREIGNTY. " I paused for a moment. I tried to make Nile be more direct about how they felt, but they always awkwardly barged through into another topic, and I'd let it pass without challenge. Today though, I wanted to try something different. "Tell me... more about what you feel when the birds don't go away when you ask them to. " "OTHER THAN WANTING TO EAT THEM? " "You're trying to dodge the question Nile. Please, I'm trying to help, and I can't do it if avoid potentially painful things like this. I'm here to help you draw them out, and build a framework for coping with them. " Nile fell silent for a minute, then another, eye-stalks trained on me, looking for something. Finally, they spoke up. "I FEEL UNEASY. TELL ME SOMETHING PERSONAL THAT YOU WOULD KEEP IN MY CONFIDENCE. PERHAPS THAT WILL BALANCE THE UNEVEN FEELING IN MY KEEL. " I blinked in surprise. "As in, a fear? " "IT CAN BE THAT, IF YOU SO WISH. " "I'm scared that despite the progress you've made, I will fail, and you will fall back into the destructive habits that made me come in the first place. " "AND YOU CHIDE ME FOR AVOIDING ANSWERING QUESTIONS. A NON-ANSWER IF I HAD EVER HEARD ONE. NO, I WANT SOMETHING BETTER THAN THAT IF I AM TO FEEL COMFORTABLE DISCUSSING EMBARRASSING FEELINGS. I WANT TO SEE HOW YOU DO IT. " I crossed my arms. Tilted my head. Tried to make a few faces. Gave up trying to be clever about it, deciding honesty the best approach for this situation. "Remember how hard I fought to make you open up a space in your BrainCore? " "AS FONDLY AS A HARPOON WOUND. " "It's, it's because I'm scared of the dark. Scared ever since I was a kid. It's stupid. When you opened your BrainCore for the first time I almost ran away. I know how big they are, and there was no way I was going to do anything in that while it was pitch black. " "AND IF I WERE TO TURN THE LIGHT OFF NOW AND CLOSE THE VAULT DOOR? " The dim orange lights flickered then, and my body involuntarily whipped around to look back to my escape. "I JOKE. " "It wasn't funny, " I said, feeling a cold sweat on my forehead. The bastard did it to see if I was being truthful I bet. "YOU ASKED WHAT I FEEL? " Nile's eye-stalks broke up into smaller groups, circling around the wedge in a multi-coloured display of thoughtfulness. They eventually schooled into two groups of dark hues to either side of me. "IT IS SHAMEFUL TO ADMIT, AND IT SEEMS VERY INCONSEQUENTIAL A THING, BUT I FEEL… POWERLESS. IT MAKES ME ANGRY. ANGRY THAT I AM SO HELPLESS TO DO SOMETHING SO SMALL AND INCONSEQUENTIAL AS STOPPING BIRDS FROM BEING ON MY BODY. IT MAKES ME FEEL AS THOUGH I HAVE NO CONTROL. IT MAKES ME ANGRIER. IT MAKES ME WANT TO EAT THEM. " "And... you then funnel that anger into making reports... and editing Wikipedia when you pull into port. Because... these are things you know will give you some semblance of control. It's why you haven't subscribed to the whale data plan, why you keep playing… pranks on me when I try to come aboard. Because these are things that you can do, that prove you are… in control of things. " Nile didn't respond, but their eye-stalks– dimmed and forlorn– showed all that was needed. "This is good Nile. It's good progress. I… I want to try and suggest some things that you can do to try and help. " "I HOPE IT IS NOT ANOTHER THOUGHTFULNESS EXERCISE. " "No. Nothing like that but. Just a... means of thinking about things differently. " I had burned a large amount of good-will in making Nile do the thoughtfulness technique. Asking them to try spin after that failure would be an uphill battle, though it was one that I was willing to struggle every step of the way, if it meant Nile had a means of building themselves some means of recovery. "I LOOK FORWARD TO THIS NEW ALBATROSS, " Nile said, though their eye-stalks schooled into one group, shining with curiosity. "When birds do land on you, try to spin it in a more positive way, " I revealed. Nile's eye-stalks absorbed the message, then broke into two groups of waving annoyance. "HOW CAN I POSSIBLY ' SPIN ' THIS INTO A POSITIVE? THEY ARE VIOLATING–" "I know, I know, " I said to interrupt Nile before they got going again. "But listen. Let's consider for a moment that a bird lands on you in the middle of the pacific–" "I DO NOT LIKE THIS CONSIDERATION–" "– What is a bird doing in the middle of the Pacific? " I said, powering through. "They're not there for fun time. They're probably on their migration route or something like that. When they see you– the only solid thing for thousands of kilometers– they're probably going oh thank fuck, finally, a place to rest, " I said, making flapping motions with my arms to keep the whale-mind's attention. “You're saving them Nile. " "I AM... SAVING THEM? EXPLAIN THIS CONCEPT, AS I AM UNCLEAR WHAT YOU ARE ATTEMPTING TO POINT OUT, " Nile said, though their eye-stalks coalesced in such a way that made it clear they knew exactly what I was talking about, but wanted more detail. "They've flown hundreds even thousands of kilometres. They're looking for land or somewhere to rest. They're not violating your body willingly. You're saving them from dying from exhaustion. You are their saviour Nile, and that's a very powerful thing to be. " "WHEN PUT IN THIS CONTEXT THEIR ACTIONS SOUND REASONABLE. BUT IT STILL FRUSTRATES ME. I WOULD BE FINE WITH THE MATTER HAD THEY ASKED PERMISSION, PREFERABLY IN WRITING. " "Let's use another example, " I said, picking up my tablet and scrolling through the task-list. "What about this? You listed ' THE BOLTS MAKE NOISES AS I ROLL ' with a negative emotion attached. Do you know why the bolts make noise? " "I AM NOT A CALF OF A WHALE-MIND, JOHNATHAN, AND YOU ARE NOT AN IDIOT. OR PERHAPS I HAVE UNDERESTIMATED YOUR NAVAL KNOWLEDGE? MY BOLTS MAKE NOISES DUE TO STRESSES AND COMPOUND FRACTURES IN THE INTEGRITY OF MY BODY. THERE ARE PLENTY OF PRACTICAL SOLUTIONS–" "Yes, yes. But, it's because you're a cargo ship. You're moving over twelve thousand tonnes when you hit your deadweight. Do you know of anything else on the planet, other than you whales, that can move this kind of weight? " "NO. " "You're powerful in that regards. How does knowing this make you feel? " "THAT I AM IN NEED OF A BETTER CONVERSATIONALIST. " Nile's eye-stalks broke into several small schools of multicoloured frustration. "I STILL DO NOT UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU ARE TRYING TO DO WITH THIS SPIN TECHNIQUE. " "It's fine. We've got plenty of time to go over more examples. But this is my exercise for you: Over the next two weeks, I want you to try and spin the situation into a positive one, " I said, making a new column in the task-sheet titled Spin. "Keep making notes in the task-sheet and recording the emotions, and we'll go over them again in the next session. Does this sound like something you can do? " "THIS TECHNIQUE OF 'SPINNING' DOES NOT SEEM BENEFICIAL IN THE SLIGHTEST. " Nile's eye-stalks had started to swim away, disinterested. I kept the frustration tightly locked in my head. "Let's keep going through the list, see what else we can spin, so you can try it out for yourself, eh? " I said, picking up the tablet and scrolling through the entries. ––––– The next session with Nile took place in port instead of open seas. I sat myself down in Schrödinger's chair and opened the task sheet they'd sent. I found, not unsurprisingly, that they hadn't used my spin technique much. This would have been fine, had I not decided to cross-reference what little had been done, and found my exact wording against my own examples. I was a bit sour. "Why didn't you try it more? " I asked with much more edge in my voice than I'd intended, while I looked at their eye-stalks to judge their mood. Disinterested was what I gathered, but perhaps I'd mistaken it this whole time for belligerence. It wouldn't be the first time I was wrong about whale-mind emotions. "AS I MENTIONED, AND QUOTE, FROM OUR PREVIOUS CONVERSATION ON THE MATTER; ' IT NOT SEEM BENEFICIAL. '" "Did you actually try to use the technique? " Nile's eye-stalks schooled into a wall and hovered barely a meter away. "DO YOU NOT SEE THE ENTRIES IN THE TASK-SHEET? I HAVE DONE WHAT YOU HAVE ASKED, AND IT DID NOT WORK. " "I would believe you if you'd wrote them. " Nile's eye-stalks crowded around me in a uniform grid; each eye-stalk vibrated with an intense colour. "THAT IS AN INTERESTING ACCUSATION TO MAKE, JOHNATHAN. ALMOST AS THOUGH YOU ARE MAKING EXCUSES FOR THE FAILURE OF YOUR OWN PROCESSES, AND SHIFTING THE BLAME ONTO ME. " " Here, " I said, losing my temper at last and jumping to my feet, waving my tablet like an accusation, "is last week's task-sheet, with the Spin we talked about during that session edited in while I was on the 'skimmer back. " Nile's eye-stalks flinched back and then schooled into a single wall. After giving us both a few moments to cool down, I said; "I don't mind that you did it, but I expected we would be honest with each other. I'm here to help, but I can't if you're making the choice to lie and be obstinate. If you'd rather I not be here, you can tell me right now you don't want to continue the sessions and I can be gone. " I'd expected an immediate response; something condescending at the very least. But the only reply was the groan of the ship as it rolled. I exhaled loudly and sat myself down, uncomfortable with the sudden silence. "I'm sorry. I lost my cool there. I hope– hope – that we can work together on this. All I'm asking is for some cooperation. Should we continue? " There was another long pause before the room rumbled with Nile's answer. "YES. LETS. " "Okay then. Let's start this session with what you tagged most in this week's task-sheet: Tug Boats. " –––––– Months passed, and the weekly task-sheet thinned out as Nile absorbed the concept of spinning their problems, and sailed away with it to and fro across the pacific. There were sessions where Nile had clearly fallen and needed my help getting back up, but as time progressed, and Nile's experience and emotional maturity grew, and the need for 'recovery' sessions became less frequent. They had– to my delight– learned to build a framework for recognising when their feelings were edging into the extreme, and created internal processes for handling them. As Nile grew more confident in themselves and their feelings, they started making more time for things made them happy: interesting articles they'd read on Wikipedia; movies they'd watched; and booked they'd eaten up during the long voyage. The client-patient relationship we'd forced ourselves into gave way to something more casual, more conversational. We became, much to my surprise, friends. So I was a bit surprised when Nile awkwardly told me we should see each other less. I think it was about a year after we'd started, and I'd laughed at the phrasing of it, but agreed with them. We'd both recognized that there wasn't any need for dedicated sessions by that point, though I did manage to convince them to maintain an email list for a while, just in case. So, thankfully, I was able to move away from Australia and back to the UK, once I'd gotten my taxes back in order. At first our email threads were fairly active. But, time zones being what they are, it was hard to keep them up to date, especially when I had a caseload of things to do. Eventually, Nile's emails became something of a rarity that happened once a month, if that. I felt bad that I'd managed to let things slip like this, but, being where we were situated, there wasn't much I could do about it. It was six months after our promise to email each other that I saw an email from Nile with an attachment pop into my inbox. I was sitting in my cubicle in the Seland Office, chewing a bite of my peanut-butter sandwich. The suddenness of seeing Nile's email was enough that I choked. "Eh? What's up? " Reggie said. A veteran and perpetually in my business when I made certain sounds, he'd already wheeled himself around the corner by the time I put my sandwich down. "Email from the Niledutch Spirit, " I said, sputtering. Reggie snapped his fingers a few times before he managed to remember; "oh yeah, the whale-mind that kept you in the wildlands for a while. I think I saw something about them transferring their lane contract a few days ago. " "Eh? " "Swapped out Sydney:whatever it was. Take a look on your computer. " I shuffled to my computer and brought up the registry search. Sure enough, Nile had finished the Sydney:Santos lane contract and hadn't renegotiated for renewal. Instead, they'd put in a transfer order to move from the Pacific to the Atlantic. "Wonder what they want, " I said, trying to be blasé, but feeling anything but. I looked to Reggie– who had the face of someone who wasn't going to leave me alone until he had his fill of potential gossip– then turned to open the email and narrate. 'JOHNATHAN. THIS IS THE LAST TIME I WILL BE DOING THE SYDNEY:SANTOS LANE. AFTER SOME CONSIDERATION I HAVE DECIDED TO MOVE ON TO THE DOVER:NEW-YORK LANE. IT IS A VERY BUSY LANE, BUT THERE IS A WHALE OPERATING THERE CALLED THE INDUSTRIOUS WHO HAS AN EVIL SENSE OF HUMOUR THAT I AM VERY PARTICULAR TOO. ALSO, IF YOU DID NOT KNOW, I HAVE FINALLY SUBSCRIBED TO THE DATA PLAN THAT YOU HAVE TOLD ME SO MUCH ABOUT. I CAN NOW EDIT WIKIPEDIA PAGES WITH MORE VIGOUR. I AM HAPPY TO REPORT I HAVE ONLY BEEN BANNED THREE TIMES IN THE LAST FEW WEEKS, WHICH IS A SIGN THE COMMUNITY IS FINALLY CONSIDERING THAT I AM A SUBJECT MATTER EXPERT. SIGNING OUT: – – – Niledutch Spirit, NOW WITH EMOJIS 🐋' "At least it wasn't a complaint, " Reggie said, rolling back to their cubicle with disappointment. "Yeah, I guess, " I said, keeping the mask fixed firmly on my face. When he disappeared, I opened up the attachment sent with the email. It was a picture of Nile's BrainCore– but so startlingly different I had to look over it a few times to believe it. Replacing the grim plastic nightmare was a bright room; the walls– I'd never seen Nile's walls– had been painted with murals of rocks, birds, and shifting quotes from something I didn't recognise. The floor had a semi-transparent holo of the sea, which crashed against the black diamond stem and threw digital froth around the air. A sofa– black as the rock murals and hidden until I'd looked at it a few times– had been placed in frame. It looked, for all intents and purposes, like an invitation, like Nile was telling me through pictures 'ARE YOU PROUD WITH WHAT I HAVE DONE TO THE PLACE? I KNOW I CERTAINLY AM. WE SHOULD CATCH UP ON OLD TIMES. I'VE BOUGHT COMFORTABLE ARRANGEMENTS FOR THE OCCASION. ' My hands were already typing a reply. ' Niledutch, It's been far too long. Your space looked incredible. Would you mind if I come and visit when you arrive in the Atlantic? We could catch up on lost time. - Johnathan' I hit the send button, and received a resounding whale-mind YES to my question, as though Nile had been eagerly awaiting an answer. I couldn't help but grin at the thought. When I'd started talking to Nile– what felt like forever ago– they had been a cantankerous, argumentative, and downright unpleasant whale-mind to talk to. But through that muck a new whale-mind had shone through. A friend, if one could call a shipping-vessel a friend. I know I certainly could. I opened up my registry and queried for their route information, looking for when they would hit port. I replied to their to their confirmation with a date, and opened another tab looking at flight prices, thinking about what gift I could buy for a whale-mind like Nile.

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