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@sonicboomguile
"Don't worry my beautiful mutual, I'll save you!" *Changes your two note flop post into a four note flop post*
USA please listen to me: the price of âteaching them a lessonâ is too high. take it from New Zealand, who voted our Labour government out in the last election because they werenât doing exactly what we wanted and got facism instead.
Trans rights are being attacked, public transport has been defunded, tax cuts issued for the wealthy, they've mass-defunded public services, cut and attacked the disability funding model, cut benefits, diverted transport funding to roads, cut all recent public transport subsidies, cancelled massive important infrastructure projects like damns and ferries (we are three ISLANDS), fast tracked mining, oil, and other massive environmentally detrimental projects and gave the power the to approve these projects singularly to three ministers who have been wined and dined by lobbyists of the companies that have put the bids in to approve them while one of the main minister infers he will not prioritise the protection of endangered species like the archeys frog over mining projects that do massive environmental harm. They have attacked indigenous rights in an attempt to negate the Treaty of Waitangi by âredefining itâ; as a backup, they are also trying to remove all mentions of the treaty from legislation starting with our Child Protection laws no longer requiring social workers to consider the importance of Maori childrenâs culture when placing those children; when the Waitangi Tribunal who oversees indigenous matters sought to enquire about this, the Minister for Children blocked their enquiry in a breach of comity that was condemned in a ruling â too late to do anything â by our Supreme Court. They have repealed labour protections around pay and 90 day trials, reversed our smoking ban, cancelled our EV subsidy, cancelled our water infrastructure scheme that would have given Maori iwi a say in water asset management, cancelled our biggest cityâs fuel tax, made our treasury and inland revenue departments less accountable, dispensed of our Productivity Commission, begun work on charter schools and military boot camps in an obvious push towards privatisation, cancelled grants for first home buyers, reduced access to emergency housing, allowed no cause evictions, cancelled our Maori health system that would have given Maori control over their own public medical care and funding, cut funding of services like budgeting advice and food banks, cancelled the consumer advocacy council, cancelled our medicine regulations, repealed free prescriptions, deferred multiple hospital builds, failed to deliver on pre-election medical promises, reversed a gun ban created in response to the mosque shootings, brought back three strikes = life sentence policy, increased minimum wage by half the recommended amount, cancelled fair pay for disabled workers, reduced wheelchair services, reversed our oil and gas exploration ban, cancelled our climate emergency fund, cut science research funding including climate research, removed limits on killing sea lions, cut funding for the climate change commission, weakened our methane targets, cancelled Significant National Areas protections, have begun reversing our ban on live exports. Much of this was passed under urgency.
Itâs been six months.
If we can't remember what 4 years ago was like in our own country, I doubt we can learn anything from our friends abroad, more's the pity.
Still, always good to remember our political problems are far from unique.
Every friend group got the traumatized Catholic, the traumatized Catholic, the traumatized Catholic, the traumatized Catholic, and God
01d55 replied: I'm certain that Kyouko is protestant because her father was a priest and Catholic priests take a vow of celibacy
great point, diversity win
Tbh I was assuming Kyoko was the 'god' in OP's post. You know, reading left to right and matching
I will admit, if you had to pick 1 magical girl to cause as many problems as possible, the Patron Saint of Infinite Guns would be a really good choice
Stupid hat, phenomenal cosmic power
....oh. Okay, well.
That's. A lot bleaker the other stuff, isn't it.....
Steven trying to balance âbeing a childâ with âbeing an intergalactic rebel or something idkâ and both of these things often being given equal billing, might just be what I like best about Steven Universe.
Hello! I know you're a big fan of the Atelier series, your praise of them has piqued my interest, and there's currently a big Steam sales on the series. Which Atelier game or games would you recommend as a starting point to someone fairly experienced with JRPGs but not this specific series?
That's... eh. I'm not sure "big fan" is an accurate description at this point. The early titles, certainly, I'm not going to deny they've been (and continue to be) a big creative influence for me, but, well, the thing about the Atelier series is that right about the time the franchise made the jump from the PS2 to the PS3, it also took a hard dive into pandering to the lolicon crowd â which means some pretty serious sexualisation of some very underage girls. The post-PS2 games are also the only ones that have been ported to the PC, so.
In terms of what's available for the PC, the Dusk arc â comprising Atelier Ayesha, Atelier Escha & Logy, and Atelier Shallie â is mostly free of that stuff (and, not coincidentally, has a completely different character designer and writing team from the rest of the post-PS2 entries), but if you want my honest recommendation? Get yourself a PS2 emulator and give the Iris arc a spin. Maybe Atelier Annie for the Nintendo DS, too, if you don't mind playing only the middle game of a trilogy â the other two games in the DS arc were never localised
(Atelier Iris 2 in particular has a fascinating dual-protagonist setup where one playable character goes on a conventional globe-trotting quest and the other stays in their home town and has visual novel style domestic adventures, and you can switch between them at any time. It's something I've been thinking about how to emulate in a tabletop RPG for a long time.)
Not to mention that the latest entries in the series have gone absolutely DLC-crazy. The season pass usually costs almost as much as the game itself. Luckily about 80% of it all is more skimpy outfits and alternate music, but still.
The games themselves are still a lot of fun.
I wouldnât know. I gritted my teeth through the questionable bits of the Arland arc under the assumption that I was reading too much into things, had a lot of fun with the Dusk arc, then got one look at Plachtaâs character design in Atelier Sophie and went ânopeâ.
I'm going to grab Atelier Ryza myself, but cropped belly shirt on the muscley lad and booty shorts and thigh highs on the titular alchemist suggests there is still significant horny energy at play
I know codpieces on plate armour are meant to be intimidating, but all that goes through my head whenever I see one is I bet if you whacked this guy in the ding with a warhammer it would ring like a bell.
Like:
Would you not be incredibly tempted to hit it as hard as you can specifically to find out what sound it makes?
Oh sure, if you want to ruin a piece of art like a barbarian
Look at that engraving!
OK in retrospect that explains why three of your employees are literal babies
Anime has ruined me to the point that I never once questioned the child knights
Did you ever care about someone so much that you battled them for the right to save their lifeâŠâŠ.
Also, this is like episode 10 and theyâve fought like five times and this, here and now, is their first and last serious battle
might as well just leave a little note that says OBI WUZ HERE >:) YOUR MOVE pinned to her coat
This Little Shit (affectionately)
Kyubey please stop saying âlol sounds fake but okayâ to every theory I bring up. I get that youâre âplaying devilâs advocateâ but itâs actually less helpful thank you think
Kyubey: âHave you considered that you may just be crazy :3âł
the range in stakes from ârender me into a being powerful enough to fight death and winâ to âwhat is my dog thinkingâ
Some of these wishes, if thatâs what they are, are a trip.
âAs a Madoka magical girl who wished to Be Cheerful, I now envy the dead!â -- said with just the biggest smile
âI told my mom everything, except about the magicâ WELL THEN WHAT /DID/ YOU TELL HER??????
sad, yet beautiful eyes
The standard party composition of Dungeons & Dragons inspired web media circa 2000 is three guys who are basically feral cartoon characters with only the most tenuous grasp of the fourth wall, plus one woman whoâs a realistic and psychologically nuanced character who exists to be by turns exasperated and horrified at her companionsâ antics.
Given present trends in popular media, Iâm pretty sure you could still make this work in 2021 with just two small adjustments:
1. Swap the genders.
2. Make the token real person a couple of decades older than the rest and give him intense Dad Energy.
Letâs hope thatâs the plan for Critical Role season 3
iâm quitting college 2 be a point & click adventure game protagonist
Iâm going to walk around saying smart-allack-y remarks about my immediate surroundings to absolutely no one.
Gonna poke everything with all the items I have in my pockets to see what I say for every combination
Gonna walk up to a door, not touch it, and say âItâs Lockedâ to absolutely no one
Smart-aleck-y remarks like âItâs a clotheslineâ and âI sleep here.â
zelda: what was that boyâs name? the one who died?
purah: link.
zelda: âŠof course it was.
-
the people of hyrule think that hylia chooses their heroes, but really, they do.Â
so even though it wasnât this linkâs âdestinyâ, he still (reluctantly) stepped up to do the job, making him just as worthy of the triforce as any other, and completing the self-fulfilling prophecy.
also, this is another cautionary tale of having too many kids named link
Look, if your Reluctant Folk Hero is always named Link, why WOULDNâT you name your kid that
Maybe heâll be a legendary hero, maybe itâll just be a fun talking point at parties. âLink, haha, no, not THAT Link. No relation.â
Random Personal Rant
For anyone somehow here not from the original thread, this started off me getting asked what finishing school is and me getting shit off my chest that is only mildly relevant about how I could both be of the social class that gets sent to finishing school and grows up on welfare.
With an understanding that in many parts of the world it wouldnât qualify as so, as far as the US goes, my dad is from what counts as a very old money family from Baltimore & Philadelphia. Both his siblings went to college and one now owns a major hedge fund, and his sister is married to a C-level executive at a huge conglomerate. His parents went to college. His grandparents went to college. All eight of his great grandparents went to college. My dadâŠdid not go to college. He was not about that life, and while I donât mean it as an insult, when I say his primary occupation until I was ~5 was a drummer in a mediocre band I mean that he opened for a lot of great acts, and if you lived in the Boston to Atlanta area in the 80s you may have heard him play, but he was never a huge national name. But he wasnât an amateur band playing for free at some random local gig either.
My mom grew up on a chicken farm in a Mennonite family in Pennsylvania but also completely rejected her heritage and became a model, sort of like my father, of mediocre status. Not Giselle Bundchen, but had national contracts and if you have a Graco ad/box from 1990-1993 you might see both me and her on it. They met because my momâs friends placed bets, one each, on who could sleep with a member of their favorite local band first and my mom picked my dad andâŠmy mom was actually supposed to go be a model in Tokyo and found out she was pregnant with me and couldnât go đ
So, after my parents had two kids back to back with a third on the way and determined they needed lifestyles more in line with having three children, they became much poorer than they originally were because my mom stopped working and my dad, with a barely-passed-high-school education but needing a true âday jobâ worked day labor in construction. My dadâs father was too proud to give us money/help if my dad didnât beg for it; despite having eventually four young children my dad never did so we ended up on all the state assistance programs one could imagine. My grandma jokes that dinners at my parents house were BYOC - bring your own chair, because we didnât own any.
My mother and paternal grandmother had no such pride issues and I live in eternal gratitude that my welfare childhood was not as crappy as it should have been because my grandmother would have my mom accompany her on grocery runs and buy us food without my father or grandfather knowing, and every Christmas and birthday my grandparents/godparents could give us the one big ticket gift all the kids wanted that year. But, on the other side, I once got stung by a bee inside my mouth because my brother threw a hairbrush through a cracked window at me and broke it and we couldnât afford to fix it for about two years and a hornet got in one day and rested himself in my coke can (my parents were the very American type that fed me coca-cola in baby bottles at age 8 when I was jealous of my younger siblings lol).
It is hard not to believe in âtoxic masculinityâ when two men warring over dumbass pride issues would rather their children/grandchildren go without food than suck it up and decide âhelpâ isnât the worst word in the English language, and you know youâve only been saved by two women who came from totally different backgrounds and entirely disapproved of each other but reached out the hand to shake when it came down to toddlers getting the short end of the donât-bend-the-knee stick. It wasnât that either of the men were bad people, I loved them both and got along great with both, but on a societal level I feel they were socialized in a very fucked up way if that was the end result, as both claimed âmale prideâ in these instances [my dad took multiple thousands of dollars Iâd saved from working during college from me during the 2008-2010 financial crisis and didnât tell me and that was the reason I was given for why I hadnât been informed/asked, because it would be too emotionally difficult for an adult man to ask a young woman. My graduation present was them repaying me 1/3 of the money theyâd taken from me without asking because Iâd like, trusted them when it had been in a joint account that was a holdover from when I was <18 and couldnât have my own bank account].
While in some ways my parents on the surface achieved the American dream of going from nothing to a bunch of money, the real factor in play was that my dadâs father was the bank. My parents had no credit and couldnât get real loans. My dad worked construction and during the two major periods that flipping houses was very lucrative, he never had to get an actual loan or pay actual interest, he just had to ask his father to pay out cash and then repay him at a flat 2% interest rate that didnât even accrue over time, justâŠwhenever you are ready, repay the value of the loan + 2%. Because my father was doing something productive, in these instances, my grandfather was happy to pay, because it wasnât giving away money, it was loaning it. I had a very weird situation of mostly being poor but like also getting taken to the âbig donorsâ events at the Kennedy Center and my grandparents regularly buying me a dress as a child worth more than my momâs wedding dress and also needing to pretend I fit in with these people.
And look. When I say âthese peopleââŠhonestly, by and large, most wealthy people, whether inherited or not, are not the assholes you want to imagine. Most of them are extremely nice. Most of them are generous when it comes to the less fortunate who are in their personal sphere of being. Most of them are just really out of touch. The 100% kindest of all of them that I know once relayed to me that she thought people would be happier if once a year they did what she didâŠgo to the airport with a purse packed full of absolute necessities, buy a one way ticket to the most appealing destination on the flight board, buy your clothes and book your accommodations after youâd arrived, and come back after you felt youâd 'centeredâ yourself. She didnât understand why there were so many unhappy people who werenât taking this very obvious route to being happier. I didnât quite know how to explain that saying âmostâ people couldnât afford to do that either financially or from a job/career angle didnât even cover it, as âmostâ sounds like 70% instead of 99.7%.
I was both my parents eldest son and eldest daughter in the worst combination possible. I was the eldest son because I was the most stereotypically male of all my siblings, in everything from desire to physically fight the battles I was given to dislike of shopping/fashion to lack of emotional connection to my relationships, so I can now fix your average household plumbing/drywall/electrical issue better than most âcityâ guys I interact with and remain less clingy to them in the process. I was also very much the oldest daughter from a responsibility perspective, I managed our household and from age 10 - 24 managed the finances of our family business, my mom almost died giving birth to my youngest brother after a ruptured uterus that should never have happened in the first place if we had adequate insurance to get her a non-emergency C-section (I was just past 9 years old at the time) and I was informally withdrawn from school for two years to take care of the family when she couldnât because there is no paid parental leave in the US and we got double-fucked by the medical industry because she got a bad âmeshâ put in and then had to have a further surgery to repair that which we also had to pay for and didnât have the money to win a lawsuit over.
I donât know quite how to put this, but in the deepest fuck you of the universe, my rich-immigrant-ggggg grandfatherâs money led to him owning banks, insurance companies, etc, and the family cashed out in a big way when their ownership was bought by and merged with what is now Cigna, one of the biggest US healthcare insurers, and my nuclear family specifically got screwed by the American health insurance industry, but anyway, we were the people selected for that karmic comeuppance so if you want to feel schadenfreude at my expense, Iâll allow it without begrudging the sentiment, my family might have fucked up your familyâs life too, not just their own.
I got up twice a night to feed my brother because my dad had to sleep unmolested in my room to get to work and my mom was too weak to carry my brother or even hold him against her while she nursed so I had to hold him up to her. Adjusting to living in a city and hearing lots of random noises all the time was not easy when Iâd had mom sound instincts from age 9.
I learned to drive the fall my youngest bro was born because my mom couldnât and I had to get my middle brother to preschool and go the grocery store on my own. While I hold absolutely no ill will towards my father or grandfather for this and given that about 1/3 of my paternal family either has an autism diagnosis or should, I fully feel the struggles they both went through to be communicated with, my father wouldnât ask for help, and my grandmother that lived 20 minutes away couldnât give enough help because my grandfather refused to do a single dish on his own as that was outside their âmarriage contractâ type agreement and she couldnât ever stay with us overnight when there wasnât a clearly-communicated need, so they let the burden fall on a 9 - 11 year old child and that really shaped a lot of my life in both good and bad ways. My youngest brother is 22, and we have only just climbed out of the medical debt his birth left us with between my dadâs life insurance and my oldest brother and I paying for the extra cost of out-of-state college tuition.
The irony of all of this is that because my father died before his father, when my grandmother dies, my siblings and I will all inherit enough money (as a non-blood relative my mom, despite keeping her vows to part at death and not having remarried in eight years, is cut out entirely) to make this a non-issue, but my grandfather couldnât conscience spotting his unluckiest child some money in the end of days to pay for my youngest two brothersâ education and take that worry off my father as he was dying. The day before he died I had to hold him down in bed to keep him from trying to climb in his truck to go to work because he was so anxious about trying to provide for us in spite of his father having fuck you money, because his father didnât think it was fair to the other siblings (who, at the time, still owned a major hedge fund and were married to a C-level executive of a huge conglomerate). A day and a half later I went back to my job because at the time I was then the sole provider for the family and didnât want to risk asking for the standard weekâs bereavement leave when I knew I was capable of showing up at work the next day and was fresh out of college so hadnât built up a reputation yet.
My father worked the day each of us was born, so I suppose it is only fair and he smiled at the choice. In spite of what it may seem, I gave a baller and very heartfelt speech at his funeral to all his rich friends that over and above everything, heâd taught us how to be happy with our own lives no matter what, and multiple of them emailed my mom in the aftermath to say theyâd reassessed their relationship with their children in light of it, althoughâŠtbh I kind of doubt that lasted and they probably changed nothing đ . The last good talk I had with him, two weeks before he died [his liver was going and it sent toxins to his brain that de-personed him after that and he no longer recognized me as his daughter, but as his sister], I reassured him that though we would all be sad heâd gone, weâd live on just fine without him because thatâs how heâd raised us, and according to my mom that was what gave him the final bit of peace he needed. Although honestly, I donât think I will ever see the strength in another human again that it took my grandmother to sit next to him and stroke his hand and tell him to close his eyes and imagine he was happy on a beach and die, for Godâs sake, because he was unaware and in pain and just prolonging it for our sake by then.
That type of obsession my grandfather had with assessing his children and grandchildren on the basis of economic productivity and a very black and white idea of âfairâ is one you donât easily forget, I promise you. My hedge fund uncle is currently positioning himself to screw us out of our inheritance because of janky writing in the will and Iâm doing my fuck all best to gain the wherewithal to go toe-to-toe with this cold motherfucker in court as the oldest and representative member of my happily much nicer and softer younger brothers who I want to remain that way not because I even care that much about the money, I know what bills affect your credit first and what you can put off paying and all of us have good enough career prospects to do our own thing, but just because I want to give the middle finger to a man that was a multi-millionaire and drew lines on his milk and orange juice bottles when I came over so he knew if I drank what my parents couldnât afford when I was approximately six. Anyway, ask me why I support major reforms in wealth taxation. I donât care who it goes to, just not that guy, you feel?
Having expendable income was very exciting for a bit after I started working but once I got to the hateable point of assessing my annual bonus and internally complaining that Iâd spent the money I should have spent on a Sauternes cellar to drop five digits on bedset materials (to be fair they are drop dead gorgeous, very comfy and the factory pays a living wage for people to handmake the sheets/duvets/pillows to people in San Francisco, which is not cheap, so maybe I did more good than harm with that), I two seconds later nodded to myself and went âthe government needs to confiscate more money from meâ. The narrative is always that the âundeservingâ will use it for dumb things they donât need like iPhones or refrigeratorsâŠ?âŠbut likeâŠI could also have gone to Bed Bath and Beyond and bought a very nice sheet/comforter set for at most a tenth of what I paid so am I really spending it responsibly eitherâŠ.?âŠ.who is going to get more joy out of this misspent moneyâŠ.?âŠ.not me, that is for sure, I probably would have had more fun going to BBB and laying on all the demo beds and buying something there.
My lifelong dream, which may become possible if/when I do have something of an inheritance, is to provide food security for one of the many towns in the US were most residents donât have it. Itâs the thing I remember the most distinctly over the years. I never could quite believe it when I got to the point that I could justâŠpay to eat at a restaurant. One of the most disappointed my mother has ever been in me is when I was twenty five and confessed I actually had no idea how much a gallon of milk cost in a city grocery store besides that it was probably between $1 and $5, because I didnât have to know. For now I make a weekly drop off of my excess produce to a mom group I met under somewhat weird circumstances but I was walking through the cut-through that went through the low-income housing back to my apartment at like 2 AM on a Saturday and these moms were out there partying and smoking weed with their kids all strapped in strollers around or the older ones watched by a rotating member of the group and I felt very safe and like these moms had a very good vibe of both living their own lives [seriously for mental health parents but in most cases specifically mothers need to be able to keep up relationships with people their age] but keeping their children safe and accounted for while doing so and trying their fuckinâ best against all the odds to figure out how to make that happen when life had dealt them a shit hand.
âŠanyway, looping way back to the original question of what finishing school is, when I was almost done with middle school my dad had built a legit construction business that then very quickly took off because we lived in a commutable zip code to the now-rich-in-their-own-right people he went to high school with who trusted him to redo their homes. We eventually moved to that zip code but I stayed and commuted back to my old high school. But, i was a pretty wild kid which my father appreciated for a long while because I would follow him around on jobs and enjoy doing physical labor, but once I was mid-puberty and also he had to maybe show me to his high school friends that did not fly.
I snapped - not broke, snapped - my left thumb and my parents had to trap me like a wild animal to get me to go the hospital. Then I got a deep cut that partially injured a tendon in my leg and at eleven I tried to beat the shit out of my dad to prevent him from picking me up to strap me in the car and go to the hopsital. Next I got a deep splinter due to my eternal-barefoot tendencies and it wouldnât come out so got infected and I refused to go to the doctor [another weird back story but I was minorly sexually assaulted [[to be clear, not raped or anything big traumatic]] when I was eight and had to stay in hospital for a week and my parents couldnât be with me all the time so I have a permanent heebie-jeebie about going to the hospital, not true anxiety, I will go if I know I need to and I donât breathe heavy or anything, and Iâm actually not permanently weirded out by sex or anything, just doctors in hospitals specifically I kind of unconsciously try to justify not needing to the extent I can rationalize it] and my dad was tired of my antics so he was like âfine if you donât go I will slice your foot in half with a Swiss Army knife to get it outâ and I called his bluff and laid down on the floor, stuck my foot on his lap, and he didnât really know what to do when a barely fourteen year old girl called his bluff so my brothers watched in fascinated but horrified awe as I got my foot sliced open spectacularly so that the infection/splinter could come out and I didnât even make a sound out of spite despite it being quite painful to my recollection almost twenty years later.
They saw me cry from pain exactly one time when while trying to break up a fight between all three of them (it was over ice cream) I got pushed and my ankle got dislocated and what actually made me cry was snapping it back in place and they realized it was not a joke. These dumb assholes that I love have ragged on me for âskippingâ chores the day after I was in the hospital because the day before that I had to spend 18 hours running Thanksgiving as a good sub-hostess like I didnât have a serious infection that needed treating and couldnât rest because none of them were up to any task beyond peeling potatoes.
After the Swiss Army knife incident, my dadâs discussion of sending me to finishing school became real, which I knew when my mom made me take a walk with her and talked about it. Finishing school is likeâŠetiquette schoolâŠ.? In ye olden day when finishing high school was not the norm for anyone, wealthy men finished high school and wealthy women often went to âfinishingâ school to have a combined education on being a proper lady but also being able to hold a decent conversation with your presumably-educated husband, so it wasnât entirely etiquette non-academic. It was more just like âwhat a rich man wants in a wifeâ school, which was sort of household management and knowing enough about cleaning/cooking to correct the staff if they fucked up, how to be a polite hostess, and how to not entirely bore him when you were alone together and had done your five minutes of sex or whatever so actually had to have a conversation. In modern times it has obviously expanded to be less bleak.
I said miss me with that, I can be a girl on my own, so I went full throttle into the girliest sport they offer in high school and ever since have gained the inestimable advantage of knowing how to also use femininity to my advantage, which I am very grateful to my parents for making me learn. It would be great if we lived in a world where that didnât count, but it did/still does, and they really set me up to operate in all the worlds.
It is weird for me to tell the story to Internet strangers because itâs one of those things that makes your parents sound terrible and abusive in the general tone of the Internet nowadays, and while I support gender nonconforming children I donât remember my childhood or parents that way. But, I feel like the bits and pieces of my life Iâve given donât always make a ton of sense together without the context, so here it is, and in the end, I think a number of parts of it are areas where you can probably understand where it makes me have the opinions I do when I write.
Anyhoo, this makes my life sound far worse than it is, I actually have a great life and I am not unhappy with it at all and feel I was on the whole blessed with many more turns of luck than unluck, so, please, do not take this as a depressed artist rant, it is more like a rant of a very energetic person who rants about a lot of things all the time and didnât need to come out but just did because the question was asked and the time was right with my life being in a bit of flux to think about how I got where I am and where I want to go and why.
Always remember no matter what problems it seems like I have, if I didnât solve them on my 2 year round the world traveling hiatus I took from working, itâs my own fault, I definitely had the time and money to solve them and just chose not to.
Iâm not sure this actually explains your story starring a mid-century, deeply intellectual but not very self-introspective gentleman with Old Money roots, at all.
Basically, what Iâm saying is I think we need more Marian