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FAQs
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Why is it advisable to stay silent in a police interrogation without the presence of a lawyer?
Because police have trained extensively in the art of asking questions in such a way that there is literally no “good” (non-implicating) answer. The classical “Do you know why I pulled you over?” is a perfect example. If you answer “yes,” even just that single answer implies that you were doing something illegal and thus are admitting that you know what it was the officer saw. If you answer “no,” then you’re at least partially admitting that you weren’t paying attention, because the officer saw something that would justify the stop and if you were not aware of it, meaning that you were inattentive. These are tools the police have cultivated and perfected that are taught as part of the process of interrogation.The problem is that, like everything else from a butter knife to a nuclear warhead, the tools are only as honest or evil as the person using them. And, because police officers are human, they can be influenced and urged in many different ways. If the chain of command is lightly tossing around the threat of dismissal or “lay-offs” due to budget cuts, and ties that to a string of unsolved crimes, it can be seen as a case of “find who did ____ or clear out your locker.”So, you’re walking down a street because your car broke down on the same day your phone went screwy. It’s after-hours so nobody is open. The only business you know of being open with a phone you can use at 8:30PM is on the other side, about a mile away. You have to walk through the area that’s been getting break-ins for the past month, the string of crimes that needs to be solved before somebody gets fired. Tag, you’re “it”.Nothing you say will be considered as truthful solely because the police are so accustomed to people lying to them as a reflexive action. The offspring of 1990s “gangstas” have been been conditioned to a few things from birth; “Pigs aint people”, “Fuck da po-leece”, “Snitches get stitches”, and “Never tell a cop the truth, even if you’d take heat off yourself. ABL; Always Be Lying.” Thanks to this, the idea that you’re some poor schmuck who’s got car trouble is considered a “likely story I’ve heard before”. Police can become jaded to the possibility that we humans can tell the truth because criminals never do and, due to their job, police rarely have to deal with a lot of non-criminals. We humans are weird; we tend to think that the people we deal with are representative of all people, even when we’re only seeing a fraction of the population.You end up in the back room of a police station, five badges in the room, all interrogating you at once. Thanks to the psychological tools they learned at the academy, anything you say incriminates and implicates you. The Miranda warning is correct; Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. That’s the most honest statement possible because anything you say is going to be used against you. It is an adversarial process that you, no matter how smart you are, cannot exit victoriously. With an attorney, you’re probably screwed. Without one, it doesn’t matter if you just got back from a trip to Uganda delivering medicine to orphans, that just looks like time you were “off the radar” committing homicides on the east side. You are going to be the main character in the new summer book that everyone is talking about: Fifty Shades of Screwed.Innocence is irrelevant in an interrogation. If it was believed you weren’t lying, you wouldn’t have been arrested. You are guilty until proven innocent. At trial, the burden of proof lies with the state. In every interaction prior to that venue, burden of proof lies with you.You’re obligated to provide the same information that’s on your ID. Nothing more, nothing less.You want a lawyer, and will not say another word until you have one providing legal counsel. This is not an admission of guilt, but merely a layer of protection to keep the legal machine from eating you up and shitting you off a cliff.You can’t have your words twisted around if you never throw any words to be twisted around. It’s not smart to assume they’re out to railroad you, but it’s a naive approach to assume they’re all on your side. Every officer wants to protect the innocent and persecute the guilty on day one, this is known. What cannot be known is whether they’ll start to see every non-police individual as a lying ass criminal in a few years. Some do, some don’t, and I err on the side of caution.In my situation, any interaction that’s more serious than “do you know why I pulled you over” is met with a simple miniature speech I’m fortunate to have never needed. “My name is TJ Fritts. I was born November 8, 1985. I live at (blah, blah, blah, blit, blah blah). I request an attorney be present before I answer any questions.” The last sentence will be repeated as often as necessary, and it will be all I’ll say until I get an attorney. Some might worry this would annoy the officers to the point of physical violence and on that topic I am truly torn. I’ve never had enough money to buy and sell my town, but if a police officer roughed me up for maintaining my rights I would end up with that much money eventually. I’m torn because I don’t like the idea of being bludgeoned with an ASP Baton…but the idea of taking a few unjustified whacks now and being wealthy enough to hire a freakin’ staff to rub my booboos later…it’s a quandary and I truly don’t know how to feel about it.The legal system affords you a few protective armors to wear against the onslaught of the machine. Only fools turn down a chance to wear a helmet before playing gridiron football against the 1975 Pittsburgh Steelers. They are professionals, you’re an amateur. When a professional tells you that you’re allowed to have an attorney, just take the attorney. It may delay your evening plans, but so would being sentenced to 15 years in prison because you thought your innocence meant something to a system that’s been lied to so often that it refuses to believe anyone can tell the truth.
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You're given immortality, but as a cost, you are sent back 3,000 years. Would you accept, and if so, what would you do?
And thus began the legend..The legend of the White Wolf of the WestIt is said that he began his tale 3,000 years ago…THUUUMMA bolt of lightning struck forth from the sky and decimated the once great hillside, turning it into a crater.An unfit boy stood unharmed within the epicenter of the crater.He pulled himself out of the hole, but not before grabbing a loose, sharp rock.Taking the rock and jamming it into his hand, the boy grinned through his pain. He pulled the rock out, and examined. His bloodied palm dripped momentarily, but it regenerated soon enough.“Oh thank God.” He whispered. “I was worrying that I was just ageless. Hopefully I've got both.”He stood at the edge of his crater and surveyed his new land. “Well then. Time to start learning how to survive.”He set off, but before he did he pulled out his phone- one of his final links to the future, his future anyway- and smiled. “Give me a few thousand years my precious. Soon enough I will have you.”He powered the phone off and would leave it that way for the next 500 years.During the first hundred, he honed his body into a living weapon. He'd survived on his own for fifty years, moving around, hunting, gathering, building houses. Writing down whatever he could remember.For the other fifty, he tried his hands at weapon making and fighting against the greatest animals he could. He hunted wolves, became their Alpha, he wrestled with bears and won.. and he's fought and killed any man foolish enough to anger him.With his hands.Certainly he's lost before, particularly against a rather large bear, but on the whole he's been unbeatable.So much so, that he's spawned a legend. The legend of the White Wolf, a man with skin like snow, who's only friends in this world are Wolves.Some even say, that he is a wolf made into a man.His eyes glint in the darkness with squares of pure light upon his face.In the next hundred years he spent his time as a sage, teaching the local chieftains of the abilities of water and introducing the idea that metal could be used in war. He did this as he made his way West until he signNowed the great coast.Then, the Wolf Sage was gone and the White Wolf of the West was reborn.He conquered the great chiefs of the West and taught them a new language which he called Jamish.Then, with his military behind him, he began a great offensive across the world“Great offensive? What's that?” A child, a boy of about six, interrupted sounding confused.The storyteller smiled, he'd forgotten that the boy had never known war, none of them had for the last few hundred years thanks to The Wolf King.“Ah my child, it is an old saying. Older than you or I, it means a great War.”The children bowed their heads at the word, having been taught to do so out of respect for the dead.“Now then where was I…”Ah yes, his great military marched along the country he called America. First the West fell, and the White Wolf gained his name.The White Wolf of the West.His army was smart, and marched fast in the summer, settled in the fall and waited through winter until spring.And they were smart enough to build a road that connected all lands they controlled. So that those behind them could bring food for those in front.Additionally, The White Wolf of the West was not always violent. Many times he would meet with local Chieftains and convince them to join in his Empire.The smartest would accept. The most foolish resisted.The White Wolf crushed his opponents beneath his feet for centuries, until he had conquered all of what we know as Westland, its northern and its southern regions all connected by one major road all of which led back to the center of Westland.Where the first city: Jamesland was built.From his seat of power the White would rule as the God he was. He took no wives, only concubines, and waited for the day his wife could be brought from Heaven.As he waited however, he was not still. He taught us of oil and gunpowder and guns! He showed us how to tame Bison for use in meat production. He had us colonize the far north and south! The Aztecs and Mayans, great as they were, were no match for him! Then peace came.We flourished for a good 500 years longer. Building roads, and cities, and learning new things!And our White Wolf entertained us with stories. The Man of Bats, The Iron and The Titan, The Men of Golden Hair, and The Man of Steel were just a few stories he told us.And he told us the ancient tale of his wife, a tragedy of two lovers unable to signNow each other.He was a good king.Then, other pale men came. These were not Gods like the White Wolf was, they could killed. They were men! Coming From where we know as Monarchis, the men served a vile queen, and were sent back with a message: surrender or die.She ignored the warning and others were sent. The White Wolf defended the West and went on the Second Offensive. He and his men invaded Monarchis and held it.For hundreds more years The White Wolf invaded and conquered new lands.What we know as Krau, Rome, Commudeath, and Walland took hundreds of years, but with an immortal God leading us we never tired! The fools against our Wolf did. And they paid the price for their arrogance.The entire continent of Affrika was conquered quickly as he merely had to use the same tactics he used against Westland, it was faster thanks to superior technology However.Eventually he signNowed the edge of the world, a place he called Japan.The Wolf did not conquer it, and it remains as our only trading partner to this day.Aside from there, our Wolf sailed across the world! And eventually found what he calls Deathland. A small island continent.Rather than invade, he used that place as a prison, citing it as being “Like Hell". Twas a place not even The White Wolfe liked.Some thought to challenge his authority on this fact, saying that no God would fear a place.In response The White Wolf walked across the continent, west to east. It took him three days, and only because he stopped to kill some wildlife along the way.Truly he was The White Wolf of The West.He would rule the world for another thousand years, helping it completely peaceful and teaching it about many things.He insisted on things such as Equality, Women's Rights, and the legalization and normalization of Homosexuality.Free thought was encouraged, and we rapidly entered an Industrial Revolution.“Which leads us to today, in the year 2000.We know everything about our oceans. We are more free today than ever. War is nonexistent. Space is truly the final frontier.” The old man smiled. “Qnd who do we owe that too?” He asked the class.Everyone at once replied. “The White Wolf of The West, our God-Emporer James Alexander Walker.”He smiled again and stood again. “Come now then children. Today is the day our Emporer is to introduce our God-Empress.”It had taken years, thousands even, but he finally was ready to build her a body and bring her from Heaven.After today he could finally rest and smile on a thankful world. All that was left for him to do was bring his equally immortal wife.And, in a few Thousand years, Mankind will expand across the stars and The White Wolf would begin a new offensive.Mankind would one day rule the universe.But for now…Now was the time for rest.
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What are the best examples of subtlety in movies?
I love the GodFather trilogy.Will skip the “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer”, and other well-known lines and scenes from this classic .It has all these subtle , downplayed moments that are so ordinary and yet crucial to the central plot and twists. Not too much background score . Not too much hyterics. Few lines. All beautifully shot and played on screen by Al Pacino.Here are my favorites:While in Havana negotiating with Roth, Michael realizes that Fredo is the family traitor he had been looking for. Despite twice telling Michael that he had never met Ola, Fredo drunkenly lets slip that they had met in Havana earlier that year.Movies & TV Stack ExchangeI love how Michael Corleone handles his anger and frustration very well. He could have had a fit and slapped his dimwit of a brother for all I care. Or shot him point blank for more cinematic flare.But he didn’t .He calmly confronts him , gave him the kiss of death and said, "I know it was you, Fredo. You broke my heart. You broke my heart!"Of course we all know where Fredo ended up after- sleeping with the fishes.******************************************Before Don Vito Corleone passed away, he told Michael that whoever will approach him to set up a meeting with the other families is the traitor. Clever of the Don himself to predict that one of his own close friends, Salvatore Tessio, would betray him.How could he have predicted that? And why on his funeral?And yet it turned out to be true. There sits Michael Corleone, watching all the people paying their respects to his late father.Tessio then approached him for a meeting with Barzini :Look at that. Not a flinch. No surprise whatsoever. Not a hint of disbelief from an utter betrayal being committed by a man who was like a father to him.Again, we all know what happened to the other heads of the other families by the end of the movie as he was attending the baptism as a godfather to his sister Connie’s son.******************************************and lastly this: the final scene of the 3rd movieMichael Corleone , after trying for years to legitimize the business , ends up losing everything in the end- with his daughter taking the bullet for him. Perhaps a retribution for past transgressions. Or plain karma.He then hands the reins to his nephew, Vincent, and retires to his villa is Sicily.The once powerful Don now old, with no friends and family , died under the midday sun, with no one to witness his last breath but the stray dogs.***The End***I first watched all GodFather movies when I was 16. I have watched it so many times after that. Yet my appreciation for the genius of Francis Ford Coppola never wanes. Some people find it overrated. I couldn’t care any less. It still is my favorite movie and trilogy of all time.
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What is the funniest thing a comedian has ever said?
Never pick a fight with an ugly person, they've got nothing to lose.We had gay burglars the other night. They broke in and rearranged the furniture.Reality is just a crutch for people who can't cope with drugs.Do you think God gets stoned? I think so . . . look at the platypus.God gave men a penis and a brain, but unfortunately not enough blood supply to run both at the same time.Reality: What a concept!What's right is what's left if you do everything else wrong.Why do they call it rush hour when nothing moves?Cocaine is God’s way of saying you’re making too much money.[Imitating a Frenchman] Fuck you Americans! Uncultured, crass Americans! We hate all of you! Fu- the Germans are here! Hello Americans! We love you!When I was growing up they used to say, "Robin, drugs can kill you." Now that I'm 58 my doctor's telling me, "Robin, you need drugs to live." I realize now that my doctor is also my dealer...I went to rehab [for alcoholism] in wine country, just to keep my options open.I was once on a German talk show, and this woman said to me, "Mr. Williams, why do you think there is not so much comedy in Germany?" And I said, "Did you ever think you killed all the funny people?"If there was a pill that allowed you to drink and not get drunk, an alcoholic would go "What happens if you take two?”As an alcoholic, you will violate your standards quicker than you can lower them.The Legendary Robin Williams
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Why is Imam Mahdi hiding?
The concept of occultation is unique concept in Shia Islam, as such there is also no real English word for its Arabic equivv in the English dictionary. Occultation, taken from the Arabic Ghayba, means hidden - which in turn means hidden from sight yet present in world alone.Unlike Jesus, or any other Prophet in The Jewish/Christian literature, the Mahdi has not been taken away from this world, but is present in it and concealed from the eyes of the people until a said time when people would be able and ready to realize who he is and then he would emerge and spread his guidance among the people.But why is he hiding? According to Shiite belief, the wife of the Eleventh Imam, Hassan Al-Askari, gave birth to son even though she was not aware of such a birth happening in her and showed no sign of any pregnancy. The child then made himself present later at the funeral of his father, then further again during an even where he disappeared; going into a minor occultation, where certain 'representatives' of his remained in touch with him through a curtain and communicated to the people on his behalf, without the people ever having seen a sight of him. He then disappeared into a major occultation, from which God only knows when he will return.The concept of occultation is very important in Shiite Islam, and it is during this time that Shiite Islam is actually consolidated, with after the Major Occultation, no sight of a Shiite Master Imam being possible upon the people and they are left to guard their religion on their own with whatever messages that have been left behind for them.During this time, the 'Ulema' are considered to be the real guardians of the religion.The reason he is in hiding is because it was impossible for him to do anything of that sort at the time - which is required of the Mahdi. Also, it is him who is the Mahdi because there are certain sayings by Shiite Imams mentioning that the 12th of their Imams would be the Mahdi and he would go into a period of occultation, which would be so extreme that people would begin to deny that he ever existed.Acceptance of all this belief is what actually validates Shia Islam completely, but it is only upon his arrival that we can actually really know what the truth is; but given the state of time, the emergence of a 9th century man into this present age to come give people some sort of a guidance is still pretty irrelevant, so we must still wait.Maybe his time is for another people, or maybe he left behind some things which will be imperative for a certain people in times to come. Whatever it is, I personally believe, for a man to be born and proclaimed the Mahdi by God is much more satiable in these present times, but if the notion is for something of more in the future, it is only relevant that a person of the past be the savior of those people of the future, who could perhaps be more like him than anyone else we currently know.
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What are your thoughts on the Cornell University student who removed her clothes during her thesis presentation, then later poin
Q: What are your thoughts on the Cornell University student who removed her clothes during her thesis presentation, then later pointed out that the professor who criticized her choice of clothing is white?A: The student’s behavior is rude, ill-advised, and uncalled for. Here’s why I believe it is ill-advised: Professors are professionals who will always try to do their jobs. However, there are many times a professor is asked to go above and beyond what is contractually required. For example, professors who teach in honors, or graduate programs are usually expected to be thesis advisers. However, they can pick and choose whom they advise. Professors do not have to write letters of recommendation for students seeking advanced graduate work, employment, scholarships, internships, and teaching positions. Professor do not have to help a student prepare her work for publication, or perhaps co-author it with her to increase the chances that it will get published. Professors do not have to let a student into a “closed” class or seminar. Professors do all of these things because they typically care about their students, and want to do everything possible to help them succeed. Assuming this incident was correctly reported by the media, I can not imagine any professor wanting any kind of future involvement with this student. Respect, after all, travels a two way street. I would not return her disrespectful behavior, but I would certainly never again have anything to do with her.There are all kinds of administrative sanctions the Professor could apply in this case. However, faculty time is much too precious to waste mentoring childish and disrespectful students, or debating irrational behavior in front of a disciplinary committee.My approach would be to award the thesis the grade it has earned. I would also immediately refer the young woman to psychological counseling because of her irrational, and uncalled for behavior. I am appalled at her behavior in response to a friendly and constructive comment from her Professor suggesting that a professional presentation requires professional behavior and dress, and that everyone is entitled to be treated with respect —especially Professors who treat their students with caring and respect.In addition, this unfortunate incident has been widely circulated. Can you imagine any other faculty member or employer who would want to be associated with this rude and disrespectful person in the future?Finally, this incident suggests that Cornell’s admissions process is flawed. I would encourage Admissions to take a careful look at the letters of recommendation and SAT scores for this person to see if they are fraudulent. If these check out OK, perhaps some indicators of common courtesy, and mutual respect should be added to the admissions requirements . It seems that rote memorization skills are not enough anymore.EDITED 5/11/18; 5/15/18
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What are some good stories from the early days of Quora?
I was Quora's first employee and captured some very early moments. Pardon the image quality on some of these I was in a trying-a-bunch-of-different-phones phase. For a lot of this stuff you really had to be there... The First Quora OfficeI remember when I first visited the office one weekend, I sat in a folding chair next to mountains of bottled water. Adam and Charlie were seated across from me. They said they were working on a social Q&A product and they wanted me to work on the design. Sitting there in that drab room they described doctors and lawyers answering serious questions with serious answers. That seemed a bit far fetched to me but it was only a few months later that that actually started to happen.My desk is the one on the top left with the coffee cup and I shared it with a scanner/printer. Initially I had to bring my own laptop because Adam was worried about costs. Eventually I brought in my own aeron, too. Those two sad little papers stuck to the wall were the only decor. In those days it was 150% about work. Heads down and focused work. One day I came in to the office and a woman I'd never met was sitting in the folding chair next to me. I said hello or something and went right back to work. I didn't know if they had hired someone new or what but I didn't bother to ask. This happened a couple times and it wasn't until a few days later that Charlie explained she was his sister.Alpha Launch Celebration DinnerAfter we launched the alpha version of Quora, we celebrated with dinner at Farina in SF. There are a bunch of funny stories from this night (though none that I can share) because none of us had a high tolerance for alcohol. This was the entire company when Benchmark decided to make its Series A investment. The Many Rooms of 261 HamiltonA growing company meant maximizing space and things had to get creative in order for everyone to fit. During one such transition Joel actually signed his offer while sitting cross legged on the floor of a completely empty room. His interview had been conducted in what can best be described as a closet. We weren't set up with projectors yet so he had to give a presentation using a small TV monitor that was perched precariously on top of a plastic table. He would later tell me that he had been worried about his attire for interview day, but after seeing that Charlie had his shirt visibly tucked into his exposed boxer shorts, he stopped worrying.One afternoon a bunch of us collected in an upstairs office to play music and open the windows to get some fresh air. The windows being open meant all the street sounds were unfiltered so Tudor remarked something like, "Barking dogs, crying babies, cars honking... this is just like Romania!"It's hard to fully answer a question like this because given the scope of Quora's mission and the scale of its ambition, it's still the early days right now.
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Have you ever asked someone (who later passed away) to give you proof of an afterlife? For example, a word/gesture that only you
In my late teens and early twenties, my boyfriend would always tell me he was going to die young or live forever. I would tell him to stop saying that because he couldn’t possibly live forever. He would laugh, so unaffected by the thought of dying young. So one night after he’d said it again while we were lying in bed I jabbed him in the ribs. He laughed yelled “ow!” and said what was that for? I told him every time he said it from now on I was going to poke him right between the ribs and make him wish he was dead. He laughed and turned on me, poking me in the ribs where I was most ticklish. He said “alright then, then after I’m good and young and dead I’m going to haunt your ass and jab you every time you annoy me!” This turned into a ridiculous sort of assaulting tickle fight. A night I remember fondly.A few months later, I was 21 and he was 24. We’d spent the day watching movies with my best friend. It was June 22, 2007. A beautiful summer Friday evening. We decided to go be outside somewhere. Enjoy the weather. So we gathered some friends and dogs and skateboards and took off. The first part of the evening was full of laughter and summer sweat. But less than two hours after we left my house, the night was full of screams and too much blood. We had been jumped on an elementary school playground in Baltimore County and in trying to protect me my boyfriend was brutally assaulted in front of me, beaten by three men with baseball bats.The moments between the actual attack and getting to shock trauma are flashes. There’s the flash of me holding his broken body, begging him not to leave me. Flashes of his grip on my hand weakening. His eyes rolling back into his head if I stopped talking to him long enough to scream at the two women who had stopped to call 911, demanding why it was taking so long. There’s the flash of the EMTs arriving, telling me not to let him go yet as they secured his neck. Me begging them to tell me he was going to be okay and their refusal to speak or look at me. Flashes of the wind of the helicopter landing and of him being loaded into it, me falling to the ground so hard my knees bled for days, praying to a god I didn’t even believe in. Flashes of flying down the highway to get to Hopkins. Apparently the entire way I rocked and sobbed “please don’t take him away from me,” though I don’t remember.I was numb and in shock and already experiencing PTSD from what I saw. I was questioned by police, shuffled from waiting room to interview room and back. Numb. Sticky. Staring at the blood on my hands I’d refused to let the firefighters wash off, so afraid they’d be washing him away for good. I sat in a small chair in the waiting area, covered in his vomit and so much blood that had poured from his broken body, namely the large opening in his skull, that it looked like motor oil. Looking back this time is a blur, I have only two clear memories of the wait to go see him. I remember a fly buzzing around the vomit on my knee. Then I remember running people. Crying people. I remember glancing up to see a very famous skateboarder sitting in the chair next me. Tears streaming down his face. I watched the tears for a moment before went back to staring at the fly on my knee.A day later while my boyfriend was in a drug induced coma I learned that at the exact moment my boyfriend was being jumped, Stephen Murray was taking his turn on the Baltimore stop of the BMX Dew Tour. He was flying through the air, attempting a double back flip, turning the wrong way and landing even worse on his neck. He was flown into shock trauma just seconds after my boyfriend. They didn’t know if either man would make it. I spent the next week numbly spending time with Stephen’s at the time wife, who was also named Melissa. We swapped pills we’d been prescribed to try to get through what was happening around us, chain smoked outside and she invited me over for spaghetti to the empty home the Dew Tour had set her up in down the street. I came to know his family and friends. In fact the moment I learned my boyfriend was having part of his skull removed to try to accommodate the swelling in his brain, I stepped off the elevator and there stood Stephen’s mother Cynthia and his brother. She took one look at my face and wrapped me in her arms. Holding me as I sobbed before asking in her unbelievably soothing English accent, “do you have a mum here?” I’ll never forget that woman, that hug or that voice. Warmth I latched onto in that cold sterile hallway.Stephen survived his accident a Quadriplegic and my boyfriend died July 10. Eighteen days after the attack and on my baby brother’s seventeenth birthday. The days after I barely remember. I recall I picked out the clothes he would be buried in but couldn’t go to the funeral. I couldn’t see him in a casket, the hospital had been bad enough. After the funeral many of my friends came to my door to check on me. One of them was one of the kindest most unbelievably genuine people I’d ever know, named Mark. Mark would continue to check on me every day after we the others all faded away, unsure how to talk to or be around me. But not Mark. He texted, called or just showed up for months to make sure I was at bare minimal surviving.Two weeks ago yesterday I stood at the podium at Mark’s viewing, looking down on him in his own casket, sharing that very story. While standing there I mentioned my boyfriend. I mentioned how he and Mark and I spent one summer together. I mentioned how Mark had been there for after the murder and I mentioned that they were together now.After I sat down and began listening to another person share a story about Mark, I thought back to Mark sitting next to me on my front step a month after the murder. He’d shown up at my door and dragged me out into the sun. I began crying that day. Mark jokingly told me to stop being a cry baby that my boyfriend would hate it. At that exact moment I felt Mark jab me between the ribs. I jumped and went to swat his hand away but his hands were in front of him. Mark looked at me funny and asked what was wrong. I told him what my boyfriend had said about poking me in the ribs. Mark laughed his huge laugh from his beautiful shit eating grin and said he totally believed my boyfriend was jabbing me in the ribs for being a cry baby. He’d have done the same thing he said before playfully shoving my shoulder and wrapping an arm around me.Two weeks ago yesterday I sat on a small love seat across from Mark in his casket with my current fiancé, in a room swollen full of young people and I thought back to that moment and I began to sob again. Next to me my fiancé shifted in his seat, my eyes were locked on Mark in his casket, and I felt a jab between my ribs. I flinched and looked to my fiancé, my eyes wide, but he was leaning away from me signNowing for a tissue. I looked back to Mark, remember his big shit eating grin saying of course it was my boyfriend jabbing me in the ribs for being a cry baby, he would do the same thing!And all I could do was smile.
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Do you have a photo that presents an image that doesn't match the "reality" of what is going on?
Thanks for the A2A, Sean.I have written few answers about Paris here. Every time people get to know I’m working in Paris, they immediately say, “Wow, you’re so lucky. Paris is dreamy”.Have you heard this before?“Just add 3 letters to Paris and you have Paradise”It sure is, I’m not denying it.But, the reality is not always dreamy and beautiful. The pictures you see on Instagram, including mine don’t depict the other side of Paris.You know this is Paris, right?But, do you know this is also Paris?And this?I see so many homeless people and illegal immigrants everyday. Spending those cold nights on the streets with their kids.There’s one family near my home. A guy, his wife and a baby. I offer them money and some bread, every now and then. But, not sure what more I can possibly do.And everyday, this is only increasing:Many of these people have such heart wrenching stories and have gone through some horrific experiences. I hope there’s some solution to this someday. No one talks about this situation in Paris.And the other common problem in Paris that a lot of people don’t know about is scamming and robbing people. I even read a comment on one of my posts here. Someone asked, “Paris is a city in a developed country right? Is there robbery in developed countries?”.Of course, there is. It’s everywhere.When I lost my passport recently and went to the Indian embassy. I saw so many people standing there. Everyone had the same story.“Someone robbed me. I was coming out of the metro station, bus, mall, shopping complex, etc” - same story.And do you know this?This one is so common. Two girls come and show you some paper. They talk in French and you don’t understand what’s going on. And then in few seconds, bam. Your wallet is gone.It’s so damn common.Don’t trust girls. Even young girls. No matter how innocent they look.And this one:I have already written an answer about it. It’s the shell game scam. I see so many people losing tens and hundreds of euros in seconds, every single day.And, the rose scam?Someone walks up to you and compliments you. They say you’re very beautiful and offer you or your partner a rose. If you graciously accept it, then they ask you to pay 10 or 20 euros. If you deny and give back the rose, then you immediately have 5–6 people surrounding you. Same thing with bracelets.There’s one more. A girl accidentally stains your jacket or pants with her coffee or juice and then she offers help you clean it up. In just few seconds, you realize you were robbed.And many more like this.Paris is definitely a dream city. Like many other beautiful cities. But just because it’s the city of love or just because it’s in a developed country, it doesn’t mean it’s dreamy for everyone or crime free.There are good people and bad people in every nook and corner of this world.These crimes are so organized that even native Parisians get robbed.Those photoshopped pictures or those travel blogs don’t really show you the reality of these cities. Travel with caution and make happy memories :)
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