Beware of when your dream walks over

Well, I guess you could say I asked for it, if you were the cruel type.

The class following the good interactions with the gorgeous and varied ladies, I walked in and joked to the class about the independent reading list( it seemed few of the class were interested in making their choice yet.) I jokingly suggested I would read the most laborious of the offered books, 'Bless Me Ultima' by Rudolpho Anaya.

I guess that was it...an early class joke that got her attention locked. But bide, I will explain.

Class began shortly, and it was discussed that next week we would (while still working on a paper to be turned in) we would go see Juno Diaz in San Francisco's hoighty Herbst Theatre for a lecture/interview with a balcony seat. After a short lecture, we were invited to get a partner or partners for analyzing and sharing our first paper outlines.

The girl closest to me was looking around for anyone but me to collaborate with. This is hardly new in my American experience, so I jokingly stand and hold out my arms, calling 'LFG!', thinking some guy would get the joke and come compare contrast.

And over walks supergirl. She said,
"I just have to see what you have written, you have a really interesting interpretation of the stories."

I nod, just as the girl who sits close to me suddenly changes her mind and decides she wants to group with us, to which I also have no objection.

"I really want to get a coffee first, you want a coffee?" I pronounced this desire genius, and off we went (the other girl demurred) and there I am, walking across campus with the most beautiful girl in the fucking world.

And I need to state this clearly...she is an ex model. From across the room, she looks like she might be pleasant. Up close, every imperfection only adds to her value. Every blemish shows her humanity despite the utter perfection of her wrists, her neck, her waist. She is a song on two legs. She demands poetry, nothing else will suffice. Last week, I remarked that the honors bar seemed to be set higher, and I hoped that was a harbinger of a different society. To be more accurate, I feel she is a sign of better society, point blank.

She launched the conversation about her paper, and asked about mine, and proved herelf again an honors student (there are people with the title but not the chops, people.) She drew close when she spoke to me, like a conspirator or a latino with a smaller sense of body bubbles.

We went back to class and analyzed our papers, our breaths smelling like coffee. The third wheel not only didn't have her paper done, not only didn't have anything to contribute, but basically used us to hide from the instructor.

My bliss and intellectual and aesthetic happiness was ended by everyone else in the class taking adventage of the instructor's offer to leave after they were done critiqing. I did not walk her to her car. I did not follow her like a love struck ape. I did not crush her into dust like I wanted to...like her choosing me from across the room seemed to invite.

I sighed like a sad bastard for three days. Have you done this, my future readers and emo friends? Has this been you? You should wish for such agonies my friends.

There is an argument that says I am making nothing out of a fellow student's intellectual curiosity and precociousness. There is an argument that like the girl who is suddenly sitting next to me but seems a bit on the dumb side, supergirl wants to leech ideas off me, or stimulate her mental energies (this could be like to like in brainstorm perspective-her only desire is to actualize.) I have been to high school too, friends, and I remember what those girls are like. This felt different; she was focused on the topic at hand, but she wanted to explain herself. She wanted someone to understand her personal injections into her paper outline. She wanted to hear a different perspective...and to be blunt, she wanted someone who could appreciate her intellect to read her words, which were so very personal, about racism from being biracial, someone who could understand getting it from both sides.

I think she was exploring, sharing and reaching out. At this point, she has come to me twice. If she does so at the Junot Diaz concert, I will be forced to assume she is sensing like to like, or sensing veteran wounds like those healing dogs the service trains, or she wants something beyond healthy student to student interaction.

I will not walk to her, though I will remain friendly. She will come to me or we will forget the entire matter. And if she does...I will have to learn more about her. I just might be receptive to hearing the rest of her story.

She alleged that her beauty was a double edged sword (I am certain that is bullshit they teach you at model academy but I am trying to remain open minded)that spoiled you utterly but left you open to manipulation at an age before you were ready to find life beyond materialism. I know there is more to this story. I am dying to hear it.

On the complete other hand, she wears a silver ring on her second left finger. She could be married, engaged or in a long term tryst. She could be lesbian or bisexual (silver rings were vogue for them in the 80s, who knows about now.) If she is interested in me, I care about those things for only a few seconds...but if she is sincere about her work and I am misreading her, well, I do her yet another misservice. I above all wish to do her no harm, despite her beauty it is evident some harming has occured.

Knowledge is wine and flowers, like attracts like, Citizen Kane was a moron

Ensconced in the secure bosom of 12 units, I have reentered college as a desperate last step; this is the first time I have ever seen it so; I always had other options (I guess even now I could take four college courses and become a fireman probie or no classes and join Border Patrol at will) but my point is; I was driven to this by a failure to successfully transition to federal guard work as I desired with my enhanced security certifications; they didn't do shit for me and I was like, why not just get my fucking degrees and move on past all this petty poor man's life bullshit?

I saw it so clearly, I don't think I ever saw it before, it's odd to me that I feel motivated now but not to the same degree before, when the same problem has faced me since I exited the army.

Which is a long way to explain how I am having fun in my courses. This too is not unusual, but what is unusual is that something always has gone wrong by this point (about a month into my studies. I get fascinated by some game, I start grinding away at some MMORPG, I begin to write on a RPG to bring veracity to it and make it the best damn game my players have ever faced; I join some worldwide organization and get busy; something usually pops up and distracts me, venting my energy into another project; I don't do my homework, I don't do my readings, I slip, I fall, then I fuck up and don't even bother removing myself from the drop rolls, leaving worse marks on my permanent record. Believe me, I'm doing damage control on just such things now.

But I have finally hit some groove where what I think about without distraction is school...and my studies are having a cogent effect...the literature class is feeding my Film class, the African Psychology class is feeting my literature class, the Political Science class is feeding everything.

I tell you something else; it is not a change that I am in an honors english course, but this class is a combination of fairly good latin students who already are familiar with paradigms of latin literature, and honor students who could mentally work a lump of coal into something credible for an A if they needed to.

Tonight, I was in a classroom study group with a circle of women ranging from average but cute to literally world class model hot; a long haired blond drink of cold irish water, a beautiful former international model of black and mixed race, a russian emigre of pale gothic dreams and true blond hair with a style from the 1950s with electric blue eyes--and me!!
I had a surreal sensation...there is literally nothing these ladies can do for me I can't get at home...but criminy! What a round table!

We did what a study group does...I heard all the accents, and ideas, and they were all so brilliant I could practically see electricity crackling between any two who disagreed or fought to get their point out while someone else spoke. And I could not help nursing the thought; this is a bit more like it. My existence thus far...without my friends (who are easily brilliant) has been a world of sharing with people who lack a certain spark, whether that just be intellectual hunger, or drive...the ladies tonight showed me what a world where that spark was the rule rather than the exception might be like.

I was turned on in a way that made me sweat a little bit...was it their pheremones or was it my resolve not to stare...I don't know. I do notice when I am around intensely beautiful women, nervous energy fills me, but this was like coffee (I had a mocha earlier), free nervous energy (mostly controlled), sexual tension (lots of eye contact my god, it almost hurt to break contact with the model or the beautiful russian.

And now for some complexity. I am aware what the palsy has made of my former expressiveness. I am a bit of stone face (most people say they can't notice), and the fat levels don't reduce on both sides of my face at the same time due to inactivity on the right side. I am overweight from years of grinding on MMORPGS (my good friend Dan Fructerman warned me about reduced ability from playing MMORPGS too long, but he was right about them being awesome too.) I am 37 and greying, and I have recently cultivated a full beard. This is not the optimal physical appearance to acquire a devoted mistress with, so that's not a big worry (or joyful yet self destructive possibility.)
I fantasize about a reality where a mistress is not self destructive...I don't know if they are an affectation of another class...haven't quite figured that out yet. I suppose I will in time.
So....a hint of power resting in the association of honors...a feeling that this natural 'better' association is a result of positive seeking positive...and that for all the Wests so called wisdom about greater financial resources not necessarily equaling happiness (the Citizen Kane theory) I am finding that increasingly dumber; my friend recently entered the upper class, and she is getting ridiculously more solvent and happy. Some skeptics I have chatted with assure me that is a result of the individual's ability to find happiness; I allege that is some fine dancing around the point. Millionaires who can't find happiness seem to be either doing it wrong or are dealing with fame; fame is a unfortunate side effect of scope of resources that has nothing to do with money. A skeptical friend alleges that the same inability of the middle class to understand why the lower class won't raise themselves up out of povery is the same inability of me, Lower Class, to understand why Upper Class with money can't make themselves happy with it. All the shit they are crying about can be purchased; I think Citizen Kane was hopelessly shortsighted. Paris seems to be having a lovely time (though Ignorance is bliss and that definitely seems to be a major motivator with her.) I SOOOO prefer models who are also genius honor students.

Disclaimer: Thinking that Positive attracts Positive does not mean I forget the lessons of coming up through the lower class ranks. I will not get my degrees and suddenly find a world of nice people. People with means can be bitches too, but I do believe that those people are mere roadblocks and that I will meet less of them as I move my profession away from day to day interaction with the uneducated. The very nature of more sophisticated effect oriented interactions should itself be more harmonious; I don't expect everyone to be like the nice people I meet in college....but even getting close would be better than my previously shitty work days. People without a hope or prayer acting like it is just bullshit, pouring spoiled wine on molded paper; pointless.

I would wish this for my friends and family (maybe the good feeling, not the erotic charges) but they will have to find it for themselves; it is a elusive thing in my life thus far. Man, I really like it; it bothers me I didn't seize this earlier.

Reaction to Biden Selection/RNC

Well, Joe Biden has been the VP choice for 2 weeks now, and not much has been affected negatively. Those Hillary voters inclined to vote McCain haven't changed their stripes, and I don't think any less of the ticket because Joe is on it.
Senator Obama's nomination speech is the subject of a debate on whether it was a great speech or the most phenomenal DNC speech ever. That is good news as they say.
Meanwhile, at the RNC, Jim Crow 'Alligator Eating The Coon Baby' hats are being sold featuring an Alligator eating Obama instead, and selling quite well apparently. The differences could not be more clearly drawn between a slavish devotion to failed paradigms and a new path that will get to work on our problems instead of just shoveling money to the military industrial complex. Sleep You Dragon, Sleep Forever!

Blogging for Obama: 10 Posts, 10 Weeks

On Saturday, I did the third activist volunteer action of my life in person, and met with 24 adults in the Alameda free library. The group met to discuss Alameda's proposals to the Democratic Party Platform. There was a great deal of sharing of ideas, and through the group ended up with more desire for foreign disengagement and peace initiatives, on the basics, we agreed with Obama's stance of insisting on diplomacy as the first option, not the last.

I especially liked how moderation prevailed in the final voting on policy. It was a lesson to me that giving some ground did not mean the end of the world. We can still progress with goals that are acceptable in scope as progressives collaborating with Democrats of all stripes, I saw it happen with my own eyes.

I am sure that it is Senator Obama's personal qualities and rational calls for bipartisanship that evokes both this environment and my own ease with grassroots action. To be frank, we have a decade of work to do. My mind has already moved on past the election. My body is just catching up.

At this moment, Senator Obama is collecting accolades from around the world, and being welcomed openly by world leaders and masters of state and commerce. He is parleying frankly with troops in Afghanistan, and confronting the fight that awaits there. Europe awaits, as does any world leader who wants more favorable relations with their own parties. For many reasons, this has been a great week on the national political scene, but for me, it was the week I agreed to meet three times with my fellow citizens and collaborate on fundraising, policy and coalition building for the good of the American Republic.

During my first policy meeting, when asked for what policy position we would keep but enhance, I asked the group to add that Republicans would be both welcome and needed in order to accomplish the energy, national service and infratructure changes we desperately need. The group agreed, but even if they had not, I believe that to be true. I think the biggest statement the Platform can make, aside from the National Call to Service, which I believe is a stroke of genius, would be to let the Republicans know they are welcome and that the work is for all of us.

What Onward Looks like

How that Last Gig Ended:

December.

It was a bullshit job, with potential, but every possible method of advancing yourself had been shaved to an absolute minimum.

It was odd, I had worked many months past normal burnout, and was even making a name for myself with overtime and a few good special events assignments where I didn't behave poorly around my betters. I was being 'considered'. That's a good thing.

I had been thinking for months that this gig would be something I could give up easily, about increasing my certifications to enter a better job category, about police testing, yadda yadda.

So I get home, and my lass is completely spastic. I had been hearing about how they were overworking her in clinical science for about four months now, and since the addition of a new mid level manager for her, things had gotten even more stupid; she was basically being asked to do the work of six people of her same qualifications, and pressure was building on her to do overtime when the job promised in the beginning they wouldn't be asking for that. She was miserable, talking about work at home as though she couldn't let it go, crying about work. Basically they turned her into a therapy candidate.

To add insult to injury, she really wanted to go on vacation and find a new job.

I just coalesced her plans-I said, "Okay, fuck it. Let's quit our jobs, and go on vacay."

She thought it over for a few days, then set up the vacation, took time off her job, then medical time off her job (hospital evaluation for work stress) then she turned in her final notification, and refused to speak to anyone at the job (which, if you want references in the future, complicates things.)

Anyway, I folded the job with a sick out (authentic, super gross, had that ~gut bug~ people have been talking about all year.) then we went on vacation.

Vacation was great, except that my lass got sick with something with a lingering fever for three days, and she considered the whole thing pissing away a lot of money on a hotel bed for her to be fevery in and missed days spent on room service. She had a point. The weather wasn't the best, but any time out of California is interesting IMHO.

Getting back, I wandered into a lame special event at a fairly infamous local convention, while my lass landed at a satisfying temp job. She is now mostly stress free once she got the contracts banged out the way she wanted, and I did a little loss prevention work for them; HOWEVER-I am done with contractors (the previous employer officially burnt me out.) I would prefer to work directly for some garbage little security company than even someone with a fair pay who was constracting out.

In that vein, I got my firearms license. It gave me a very liberating feeling, to be honest. Although, with my background, what is a few more guns thrown on top, right? But I don't feel like that...it's very different to be gun authorized in a free society than as a soldier.

Accords: I got some guys into a larp, it's good to try something different.
Arguments: None really, though I noticed for the first time a friend of mine has panic attacks almost constantly. I just thought he was objectionable natural-like.
Exercise: Minimal, plans on a gym when I get my gun gig.
Sex: Better, the emotion is better since the lass got her new gig, but frequency is up too.
Music: Lots on NiN, freaky, bought two albums.
Travel: San Jose for a science fiction convention.
Old Stuff: I was offered work with the company that gave me the convention special...I assume for the same basic gig. I passed this time. I hate contracted work, unless it's for at least 30/hour with benefits.
New Experiences: I met a nice guy who is in the same field with me. He didn't feel like he had any real options, when I know that is false. He was living with not nearly enough money, and no reason for it. I didn't get it. Slackers...in security? WTF? Also, I got a nice writer to offer to edit a book for me, I'm very gracious, but I realize this offer is pending on him being alive when I finish my book, so I have to belt it out before he has a heart attack or something.
Microenvironment: My house is looking a little better, mostly clean, but needs more organization. I am thinking about a wifi laptop, maybe a Macbook Air. I'd like to write while on the go.
Macroenvironment: Obama just clinched the Democratic nomination. This makes me feel weird about the Green Party Candidate.

My Friend Just Landed In Tikrit And I Feel Uncool About This

Every time a person tells a war story, especially if they are a veteran, there is always a small risk that the less informed will be impressed enough to go and emulate you.

While I consider that to be a low probability event with regard to my friend who just landed in Tikrit this week, I feel bad. Just plain bad, like I should have tried harder to talk him out of this. We've known Iraq was complete bullshit for three years now, I just didn't want to stand between him and his goals. And there is definitely money to be had in his direction, perhaps contracting later, in the US or abroad, so....

So I get to feel weird and hope he makes it.

-----------------
In other news, I've found out about a course offered at a local school that would make me about 1000% more valuable in my job. I've been considering some resume puffing actions, and this would be one of the best, along with, of course, passing all the office based trainings. Since I have the object lesson of my pal 80 Hours (mentioned last blog) I will for damn sure get my own office correspondence education clicking along right to ensure I get money in the briefest window possible.

Overtime has cut into my quality of life a bit this week, I would have to say. I could have really used more time off, just to take the edge off, but the money is going to be nice. It's going to be revenge money, to tell the truth. And my wardrobe! My god! I have been walking around in clothes like my mother dressed me for almost ten years now, with a few exceptions. I have to rebuild my 'city' wardrobe. Some leather (pleather, whatever) boots, some pleather/latex/leather pants, basically the kind of thing you can go goth clubbing in, that's what I'm after. Ridiculous, right? Well, that's what I need right now. I bought a stupid vacation, and you know what I feel? Nothing. I might be wrong, it might be the most awesome vacation in the history of the world, but it isn't doing me a lick of good right now.

Accords: I am officially getting along much better with some people on my shift. I have found out who the natural backstabbers are, and are leaving them be, while I cultivate the people with actual training and interest in advancing. All while hopefully maintaining a low profile.

Arguments: The biggest douche in the whole job just got made my manager in a full office shuffle, while my cool boss is now my former cool boss. I'm new in the job and adaptable, but this pissed me off a little. I have been warned this guy is the king of douchebags, so I'm hoping my coping skills will let me ignore most of his bs until he gets comfortable in the job (expect that will be about six months.)


Exercise: I walked a bunch, walked like a crazy man, 70 hours of walking around, I should be getting fitter, right? I have a gym membership, haven't even gone in there, between bullshit with my girlfriend crying from work stress and helping a buddy in the east bay deal with some personal problems, my time has evaporated. Overtime is also in my way. I won't be taking any more of that, and we'll see if that fixes things.

Sex: Nonexistent, both of us are doing 60 hour weeks. The intimacy is still good, but...there have been sacrifices to making more money.

Music: Crazy week for new music. Bought 'Parade' and '1999', California Thrash Songs compilation, Spazz compilations (I regret the Spazz purchase, lordy, they suck. Even if they are contemporaries of Infest, it's Infest I want, because they do not suck. Easy right? It's a degree of musical subtlety, the Spazz guitarist is easily better than anyone in Infest, but who cares when he's playing shit songs to shit music with some shitty lead vocalists?) I also got 'The Time' and 'Wild and Loose' from the The Time in my continuing quest to rebuild my music collection. Also 'The Weirdness' from The Stooges, which goes to prove even the greatest front man in the world can't help you if you don't have a strong sound man. My friends from Luchabrazzi is still on repeat, got that CD for free at a show, they are okay, not really my thing, but more pleasant than I gave them credit for. I think they are much more impressive live, they sound tame on their cd.

Travel: Back and forth to the East Bay, work, nothing special.

Old Stuff: Overtime pays a ton, but I plan to take a lot less of it, I'd rather have the higher pay to show for doing good work, fuck working 70 hours!

New Experiences:Lost Girls by Alan Moore and Melinda Gildes. Hulloo! This is erotica done right. *fans self* Woo, warm in here?

Microenvironment: Well, I cleaned up, not that you can tell. It's a thing you have to pay attention to daily. I threw some stuff out, opened up the space a little, and some of the old papers are finally being thrown out. All my training materials are stacking up, I still need them so I can't toss them out, but I have to file them, I know they will be vital later. I am less wound up about this, the dishes don't seem impossible to defeat.

Macroenvironment: The housing crisis has hit California very quietly, but we can now see where the eyesore begins. It's Antioch, which has neighborhoods with 12 missing houses and falling home values for the ones who stay. My guatemalan god mother says she knows a lot of new immigrants who bought in Antioch with variable loans. Not suprising that they abandoned homes with 3K mortgages now. I keep wondering where SF will get screwed first...housing on the good side of the Hunters Point?

Working with Bitches (Mandatory Sadly)

Of late, I have had the company of several of my co-workers during a training window before I assume my full work tasks. Their caliber has ranged from the most scandalous job cheats and near-outright thieves to merely being competent with no motivation to being highly skilled and compliant with workplace regulations; slavish, dogmatic (and usually burned out.)

I partnered with a man who is basically working an 80 hour week with a commute back to the East Bay on top of that. There is just nothing I can contribute to his experience, he and I are not working the same job. I have observed though that he is primarily fishing for opportunities with 'being seen' by a higher profile shift, and that in six months of what was basically hard work with some butt kissing thrown in, he is in the same place, making the same money. He had the opportunity to apply himself to workplace classes that can raise your pay grade, and he's passed on them, since he feels the commute is not worth it. I feel this was at best a short-term view of his finances, since a raise means more overtime too, right?

Of the various folks I have met so far, the weaker workers have also been struggling with the language. Many people give them some leeway because of their less than clear understanding of all the job functions....they can accomplish the basics, but the higher applications of the work escape them, and they can't ever realistically hope to achieve the in-office pay grade training or get enough respect to be promoted without it. So that's that for them, their options are to take two jobs and hope they don't plant their cars into a ditch driving home.

Despite this, I have found these second language coworkers very laid back. Maybe it's the lack of sleep, but I appreciate their relaxed approach to the job. I feel a certain amount of hustle is necessary, even desirable, and that it is basically what culls the best from the rest, but since driving safe is a function of my work, what does rushing over my biotech's campus matter?

Ironically, the three men I have met so far at my work most worthy of respect and exemplary of the extremely serious school of public contact and management are respectively;
1) Regarded with a mix of dread and respect
2)Regarded poorly even by his coworkers (I've heard him called 'that fucking 'OJ' so I assume he really earned it, he seems like a very jerk-snap military style of leader)
3) The perfect leader, gracious, knowledgeable, no wasted action....wound too tight and everyone knows it. He's a school shooting waiting to happen.

I have contempt for people who do the job just to look good. I feel sorry for people who either don't fully understand the job or just do it for money, without any hope of promotion of pay grade raise. I like people who just do the job, and if it makes them look good, hey, nice bonus.

My proximity to work is greatly relieving any stress I think would be acculmulating, I feel great, and the money helps. I blew 250 bucks just for fun a week ago, just to show myself what that was like. Feels good, I missed living above the poverty line.

Accords: I seem to be well liked.
Arguments: No beefs. Any misunderstandings chalked up to 'teaching'.
Exercise:Moderate amount of walking at work, my knee is keeping me from the gym.
Sex: Cold, pinched nerve in my neck, back beef, then my knee went out. The one day I had free she played WoW, so no, but on the other hand, Athena rules my skies right now.
Music: Found Last FM, interesting, but about six times the sucky bands to cull to make a decent channel.
Travel: Quick trip to Alameda, work.
Old Stuff: Myspace and Palladium books have my attention for some reason.
New Experiences: Read 'Soul Catcher' by Frank Herbert. Fascinating, not really sci-fi though. Bit weird.
Microenvironment: My home is messy, and some of it is my fault, but I still hate it. On Monday I have to clean and do some chores or I will go insane.
Macroenvironment: The world is fucked, and the United States seems intent on overspending itself into infinity. I have loose plans to restart in the UK. I remain unconvinced these plans are unnecessary.

Reasons

I had been thinking over getting my Blogspot wings for a year. I am not sure of the exact moment I outgrew myspace and livejournal. I may still not have outgrown Tribe.com but my distaste for it's changes keeps it in the same club. I think a blog of my very own, where I can drop javascript if I feel like it was just in order.

I had also encountered 'A Veracity Problem' with nearly all the above services. I like to tell it like it is, viscerally. Most of those services were for little kids, or just not the kind of place you would drop a lurid adventure of the variety adults can have. Or even adult thoughts or observations....livejournal is at best a place for young college students.

Add to that recent frustrations adding political tickers and polls to my LJ, and here I am at the jump.

You could also call this an experiment in artificial intelligence. That is to clarify...I have not alerted any of my friends of my jump, nor will I. I am interested to see whose technology will detect my conversion to blogspot without communication between myself and my friends, and how long I can remain anonymous in this avatar. Well, as anonymous as my posted email, which is the one I use regularly (but am considering dropping, I mean, come on, it's sitting right there atop my profile, who's genius idea was that? Have they never heard of web-trawlers and spammers?)

Still, the image problem. I have to get an image that conveys some element of what I am seeking here. And that would be? That would be as complete a journal as possible of my adventures in the Bay Area during the period of my life from Oct 4 2007 until the time of my death at an undisclosed time in the future.
People are always chatting about their impressions, but there is always some motive behind their venting--a newspaper, blatant self promotion in the case of professional authors and bloggers wanting advertising splits, credibility as experts for the political bloggers who want to get called to comment on various news shows; my reasons are just and unsolicited by anyone. I am not a professor, nor an actor or a showman. I will speak about what turns me on and what makes me sad, and the only motivation to do so will be to leave an accurate record for my loved ones who are literate enough to find it in the future.

I had an idea about assessing my days in the following format as a way to start my thoughts going.

Accords:
Arguments:
Exercise:
Sex:
Music:
Travel:
Old Stuff:
New Experiences:
Microenvironment:
Macroenvironment:

My money is on you my intelligent friends. I think you will find me and we will be communicating in less than a year, but time will tell. Well, perhaps your tools will also tell.