Monday, April 4, 2022

Narrative Self-Awareness Notes

Tropes as ingredients, mix and match them in new and surprising ways

Describe some basic characteristics about yourself, your life story and your dreams

Maybe it describes other people too?

1. Scifi-fantasy action adventure hero. Most talented survivalist healer in the known world. Survived decades of extreme brain poisoning and social isolation. Held prisoner for no crime as long as he can remember.

2. His love interest is either his father or someone who is like a father to him (never met in person).

3. The hero's personality is a Melting Pot, just like America as a whole is. (His personality is kinda like Kirby's, except that he doesn't have to swallow enemies to unlock his other "modes of being". Although changing his diet in certain ways can help.)

4. His journey is like a metroidvania game. As he learns new skills and understands the world around him in new ways, new areas and possibilities are unlocked. 

5. "The world is in danger because of the Culture Wars! How does the hero resolve the Culture Wars and save the world?

5.1. He builds/develops his home as a multipurpose site: a volunteerwork workplace, a community/cultural/recreational space, a refuge for travellers, a dating/hookup location, a place of worship, and various combinations thereof.

This allows him to bridge all the cultural divides right from home. It's an easy opportunity to demonstrate his cross cultural diplomacy skills. The word will spread about how normal peace between the peoples of the world becomes in his home. Those who see it in person or on video will reconcile with each other and protect him and each other from their own peoples who declare them all to be traitors and infiltrators when they aren't. The peaceful ones win because they use more teamwork and because the attackers are attacking each other more than the peaceful ones.

5.2. He participates in a sporting event of some kind and wins, thus causing him and his life story to become well known. Many people of all different religious, cultural and ethnic backgrounds in America find common ground between his story and their own, and so they feel compassion for him. 

They also read his writing and are inspired to form think tanks with their ideological and cultural opponents, not expecting any useful innovations or applications to result. That expectation is quickly proven wrong, which provides lots of economic incentives against large culture wars and geopolitical conflicts in America.


Expected results: When America, the melting pot of all the world's cultures is finally at peace with itself, it can persuade other nations like Russia and China to not war against it by having its Chinese-American and Russian-American residents vouch for the rest of their American neighbors. If Germany wants to war against America, then German-Americans would be the ones vouching for their neighbors.

We can all vouch for each other. See the previous post about switching from military supremacy to diplomatic-merchant supremacy.

Sunday, March 27, 2022

Pokemon: Scarlet and Gray version Forword

Me: So... um...

Mother Nature: It's okay, take all the time you need.

Me: *mumbles nervously*

Mother Nature: *sigh* Fine, I'll explain, since you are too cowed by the abusive hospital staff to do so.

Me: Thank you.

Mother Nature: With your species' current understanding of science, technology, psychology and ecobiology, you will soon have the ability to use your imaginations to "talk" to imaginary people, and then locate or engineer them somewhere out there in the space-time continuum. Either by using 3D nanontechological printers with various kinds of cellular and molecular ink to print whole persons out of computer simulated umiverses, or by using a good understanding of human psychology and ecological-cultural geography, as well as a sophisticated IMAGINATION, to predict exactly what kind of cultural and ecological environments would produce patterns of experiences which would shape a large batch population of similar human's psychology in exactly the right ways that at least one member of that population would have a personality which strongly resembles a fictional character who you wish to meet and talk to in real life if you could do so.

Me: Thank you, Mother Nature. That's why I'm getting a head start writing about "doppelgangers" of myself. Considering that I look NOTHING like how I did just five years ago, to the point where it strains a conventional understanding of human biology, I don't yet have reason to doubt that others could be mistaken for me or vice versa. 

Especially because I am psychologically and culturally a melting pot, and so is my country America. I doubt that I am the only one who that statement accurately describes, because I am not a "special snowflake".

And considering how our offical established institutional system keeps trying to punish me for wrongs I never committed and to treat me like the opposite of my real personality...

Well, which is more realistic? All the grownups I've ever met or interacted with whatsoever in life knowingly being slanderers and child abusers on purpose? Or them just mistaking me for someone else over and over because of the highly variable cultural influences on my body through my diet, environment and the drugs that were already forced into me?

So maybe when they see someone who looks identical to how they remember me looking, and that person does something wrong, they assume it was me even though it wasn't.

If I'm right about this, then imaginary friends who would seem like psychological doppelgangers of me to other people but not at all to me should correspond very closely to the real personalities of at least one or more other Americans out there in the world.

So when I write this story about one of those "doppelgangers", there is a significant likelihood that similar events were or will be experienced by someone else out there at some point.

This is the tale of a "Pokemon Trainer" in real life. He bonded with a local pidgeon which had broken into his messy apartment in the midst of a depressive funk in a complicated captivity situation. Whenever his captors came to check on him, the pidgeon would fly out the window and hide, because his captors did not allow him to share his home with any living being other than himself.

He had very few friends and allies he could truly trust, and he was trapped in the no-man's land of a global culture war. He isn't the only one in that situation, of course. There are many of us like that here in America. Many of us who have such a wide variety of cultural and environmental influences on our bodies, values and world views, to the point where every faction and organization ostracizes us for it.

This is a tale of one such new "Pokemon trainer" on his adventures in the Columbus Metropolitan region.

It is a tale of love...

POKEMON: SCARLET AND GRAY version

Short, Simple and Easy (4 LAZY N00BS): Fix US economy, Peace on Earth, Get Boyfriend

The moment you start publishing directly to the public domain for reputational credit, gratitude and social connections rather than only $, that's the moment your economic and diplomatic behavior at the individual and local level is no longer particularly constrained by millenia of hostile foreign policy standards.

National trade and war policies do not stop you from opening a patreon account and publishing your blog on social media or in print to your neighbors and friends. They do not stop your neighors and friends from giving you their spare gift cards (including UBER or LYFT cards as well as restaurant gift cards), 2 1-dollar bills for a bus trip one way, or anything else that can be donated and sent through the mail or email.

And it only takes one domino to start a domino effect. Start with yourself and those closest to you—those most likely to listen to and enjoy your work. And make sure to read/watch and repost theirs too in return!

If everyone did that, we would all be better off and we wouldn't be so dependent on our military industrial complex to protect us from foreign aggressors.

Our status as a melting pot of all the cultures of the world would protect us because we would never be short of neighbors of our own nationality who are sympathetic to a foreign aggressor, regardless of which foreign aggressor it is. 

And those neighbors could advocate for us to those foreign aggressors. We all could do that for each other once we know which foreign aggressors sympathize with us personally the most.

That means that every single one of us Americans with reliable internet access since the dawn of online social media could have implemented such a strategy to trigger a chain reaction that causes world peace at any time.

Literally all we had to do is just befriend other Americans with a balanced variety of different socio-cultural and ethno-geographic ancestries, then start a blog and ask for donations or gifts.

Then encourage them all to do the same, and to encourage others to as well.

That's it. We all could have easily triggered world peace at any time in the last decade. 

Hindsight is 2020, as they say. Now it's 2022.

This is what I'm doing now. If I keep at it and stay alive long enough I'm sure I'll eventually socially network my way into meeting the man of my dreams, my future papa-husband. 

In the meantime, if someone could please send me a new charger for my google pixel 2 phone, that would be very much appreciated. My current charger is broken and I don't have access to my SSI to purchase a new one. 

I'm hoping to use my phone again as soon as I get back home once I'm released from my illegal confinement at the Harding Hospital mental ward at my alma mater. I live at 3220 Indianola ave. APT #4, Columbus, Ohio 43202. Thanks! 😄

Switch to Merchant-Inventor-Diplomatic Supremacy TODAY!

So if I'm understanding the current global geopolitical situation right, American military supremacy is (probably?) soon reaching its end. 

But that doesn't mean American supremacy IN GENERAL has to end! Switch to merchant-inventor-diplomatic supremacy, today! For only the low cost of: Being brave! Trying something new! Walking the road less travelled! And paying at least $0.99 to my patreon—or not. 😭

Don't wait! You (yes, YOU individually!) can get ahead of the crowd and make the switch first!

How?

By following these three easy and simple steps:

1. Do what you love doing most, and keep doing it more and more.

2. Make sure you have sustainable sources of food, water and shelter, and that you can get exercise, fresh air and sunlight outdoors regularly and frequently.

3. Have daydreams about whatever is currently most fun, exciting or inspirational to you, then write down or memorize the best parts.

That's it.

If you lack some of the skills or knowledge you need to do that in your current environment with the resources you have, you can either:

1. Watch how-to tutorials on Youtube, or look up the answers to your questions on Google.

2. Use your teaching skills to teach yourself how to get better at teaching. Rinse and repeat until you learn what you love to or need to learn faster and more easily.

3. Read more of my writings until you figure it out. Or the writings of my academic and professional rivals: Alex Weissenfels, Andrew Yang and Eliezer Yudkowsky.

There are also many other writers and speakers, whose work could help instruct, inspire or motivate you: Jack Donovan, Temple Grandin, Jordan Peterson, Julia Sweeney, Jesus Christ, General Iroh (from Avatar: the Last Airbender), and Greta Thunberg, just to name a few.

Soon, you too will join the ranks of the world's greatest innovators and entrepreneurs! No need for military supremacy when it's YOU, your mind and your skills that the world wants rather than just your stuff. 

They won't want to attack you if doing so means your fans in their countries lose access to their favorite TV show (yours!) and all your awesome merchandise that comes with it.

You can do it! Switch to merchant-inventor-diplomatic supremacy TODAY!

Saturday, March 26, 2022

The Bible: Testament-code #Eart.MidW.Hum.2D-doubleeyes.USA Pharisee-free Fanboy edition

 Table of Contents

1. Forword: Why God Wants You to Write Your Own Bibles

2. The Heart

3. The Love Letter

4. A King and His Servant

5. Flashes of an Alternate Universe #1

6. Flashes of an Alternate Universe #2: Depending on How You Look at It [EXPLICIT]

7. The Same Neighborhood! (video)

8. I'm the Gamer! (video)

9. "Listen up, you partisan screwheads!"/"I will turn your culture wars into a new Olympics!" (memory of a lecture given out into nature itself when every other avenue for exercising my freedom of speech had been taken away)

Flashes of an Alternate Universe #1

Disclaimer

This is a celebrity fanfic that takes place in the future in an alternate universe, so if someone based on or inspired by you acts differently than you would naturally act, remember that they are not you, just someone a little bit like you from an alternate universe that doesn't actually exist.

Remember this is fiction. Real life doesn't have to happen this way and is extremely unlikely to.

Flash 1: the Beginning of Weird History

First, the reports coming out of Ohio had gotten confusing. Too many contradictions, it wasn't clear what was actually going on.

Then the various factions began sending their operatives to Ohio in person to find out for themselves what was going on. But everywhere they looked they saw people just living their lives as normal.

There was strangely very little of the fear and hostility that clearly plagued the rest of the country, at least in public. And even more strangely, that fear still manifested behind closed doors, in private.

But by the time enough of those operatives even had enough information to get a clear picture of what was actually going on (and that took quite a while considering that many of them ended up just going native to Ohio and abandoning their duties)... well…

It was already over.

The hostility and fear that had only been present behind closed doors had evaporated.

The economy of Columbus, Ohio had somehow recovered at record speed. It was already mostly done by the time Andrew Yang was sworn in as mayor of NYC. Yang had promised the world that NYC would lead the way and set the example for the rest of the country to follow with their economic recovery.

But Columbus had beaten them to it, had stolen their thunder right out from under their noses and as a result became the focus of intense global attention and prestige. And with attention and prestige came respect, public trust, money and power.

It had practically happened almost overnight when no one would have ever predicted it.

No one, that is, except two people. Two people, who, impossible as it sounded, had orchestrated the entire thing from behind the scenes: Alex Weissenfels and "Harry Hirsh".

No one would have believed it. It sounded to most people like something out of an epic, rather than real life. But the more evidence that was gathered, the more the picture of what had happened emerged, and the truth was unmistakable.

At some point someone had stumbled across the infamous Facebook thread and it had gone viral. When the relevant comments had first been posted on May 22nd, 2021 it looked like this:

The world discovered these comments a whole year later, by sometime between March and May 2022. The time stamps on the comments made by a certain "Harry Hirsh" were dated for May 22nd, 2021.

Furthermore, it was confirmed by local law enforcement in Columbus, Ohio that "Harry Hirsh" had shared his plan with them very early on, presenting it as a means of restoring trust between law enforcement and the public by reducing the public's distrust of itself.

This was to be accomplished via an anonymous newsletter which would persuade them to pretend to trust their political enemies enough to start interacting with them in person again. "Information-gathering" and "infiltration" would be the excuses they would tell themselves to feel safer during the process.

This was then to be followed by posting two particular memes all over the city:

The message had caught on. People all over Columbus started pretending to like and trust each other regardless of cultural background or political affiliation enough to interact with each other more. They fake-befriended each other, making fake-communities, sometimes even fake romantic relationships.

At first they thought, "These fake relationships sure are useful!"

Then they thought, "Huh, these fake relationships are actually kinda fun!"

And finally they realized, "These relationships aren't fake! They're actually real!"

Soon the phenomenon spread all across the state of Ohio. And with the public's trust in itself restored, the cultural atmosphere of social hostility began to dissipate. Crime rates dropped significantly so law enforcement was no longer quite so overworked.

This reduced stress on officers so they were less likely to make mistakes that reduced public trust in them. And that meant there wasn't anywhere near as much fuel for the media to continue to stoke Ohioans' fear of law enforcement. Factional fear-mongering in general was no longer profitable in Ohio.

And since law enforcement wasn't actually doing anything to take away their newfound collective prosperity, more and more Ohioans' began to wonder if maybe their law enforcement could be trusted after all if they were given what they needed to do their jobs better.

They tested that theory by increasing funding to their law enforcement, which allowed them to increase the quality of training officers received and pay for more better quality officers and fire the bad ones who didn't make the cut.

And since having a large number of homeless men with police training would pose an enormous risk to public safety (read as: they'd buy guns and start shooting people out of desperation and rage for their circumstances, or mugging them for money and food), Ohioans generally agreed that it would be simpler and more humane to set up a basic income fund. That way those fired officers could afford to stay well-fed and off the streets.

This basic income fund soon became available to everyone in Ohio who needed it. And with Ohioans' being better connected and integrated with each other than ever before, it had become very easy to locate and successfully identify anyone who fell into poverty and quickly get them the financial assistance they needed.

Ohioans had become a truly united people, facing a divided world. But Ohio had no military might, so it could not subdue the much larger powers which threatened to take their wealth away from them.

So instead Ohio tried the same trick on the world that Alex Weissenfels and "Harry Hirsh" had used to unite its own people. It figured that if the trick worked once, maybe it could work again.

The people of Ohio agreed to give all the peoples of the world a reason to pretend to like and trust them and each other. They used their newfound wealth and fame to share their ideas with the world.

This ran counter to many millennia of the accumulated wisdom of humankind. By the conventional wisdom of war, it was unwise for a people to literally give away their unique comparative advantage to those who threatened them.

But by this point Ohio was now known primarily as a land of diplomacy and trade, not of war. And by the conventional wisdom of diplomacy and trade, a people who gave away their unique comparative advantage to the entire world would put the entire world in their debt. It would be a relational debt, a genuine debt of gratitude and not mere words on paper backed by force.

And since that debt would come from a gift freely given to all the peoples of the world, all the peoples of the world would become as strong and healthy as Ohio and could hold each other in check.

Therefore none of them would dare attack Ohio, even if the state did give up its unique comparative advantage. Most of them wouldn't even want to.

And so Ohio explained everything to the world. They began to produce a number of global addresses and documentaries detailing exactly how they had recovered their economy so quickly and how literally anyone in the world could do the same with little to no professional training.

And thanks to the internet, the story spread very quickly: There had been a second cold war, one which had begun so slowly hardly anyone had really noticed. It had largely taken place on American soil. There were various cultural and political factions vying for control with money, secrets and reputations as their weapons and their targets.

That war had been won. Not by Russia. Not by China. Not by the Democrats. Not by the Republicans. Not by the American corporate aristocracy. Not by the working class.

By Ohio.

On June, 5th, 2022, in thanks for services rendered to Ohio and the world, "Harry Hirsh", age 28, was officially emancipated and granted guardianship over himself, as well as the full legal rights that come with that. Additionally, all of his student debt was forgiven.

Many had travelled far and wide to view the ceremony in which "Harry Hirsh" was finally granted his freedom and full equality before the law. Even more were viewing it remotely over the internet.

At the conclusion of the ceremony he had said,

"For nearly my entire life I was the least badass person in the world. Or at least I'm pretty sure I was. But then I accidently stumbled into a way to take many levels in badass almost overnight, catapulting me to almost the top of the badass ladder.

"But that felt strange and uncomfortable to me. I knew it wasn't a position I really deserved. I was like a level 100 Magikarp, surrounded by millions and millions of legendary Pokemon like Mewtwo, Zapdos, or Entei. Pokemon who should have been much stronger than me. Who would have been much stronger than me if they had also been level 100.

I had only made it so far ahead of others because others did not believe in their full potential, and I had no choice but to reach mine if I ever wanted to live.

"I want to live my life. Nearly thirty years were taken from me. And now, thanks to my efforts as well as the efforts of my neighbors and my brother, I can. I have now returned to my rightful place at the bottom of the badass ladder. Not because I lost any levels in badass. But rather because everyone else gained exactly the same number of levels in badass that I did. The badass waterline has risen, and all ships rose with it. Thank you. Thank you for giving me this chance to live. I… I was so lonely… and my life was so empty… for so long. Thank you."

And then he couldn't hold it together anymore and actually started crying in front of the whole damn world. The entire human species watched as he cried. And it wasn't dignified manly tears either. It was sloppy, gross, runny-nosed sobbing.

Through sharing his vulnerability, the speech that "Harry Hirsh" had given was more genuine and personal than any inspirational speech in recorded history. It was extremely cathartic, both for him and for many who watched it.

And now that his reputation, financial security and adult legal rights had been secured, it had finally become safe for him to take a DNA test without fear of his life being ruined by the potential social and legal repercussions of the results.

His suspicions were confirmed. He wasn't the real Harry Hirsh. But then who was he!? Where had "Harry Hirsh" come from?

Now you know the reason for the quote marks " ".

Flash 2: The Nameless Hero Meets his Real Father

"I finally found you!" the nameless hero exclaimed. "Oh my gosh I was starting to think I'd never track you down!"

"Maybe that was because I didn't want to be found," the sexy older man said. "Did you consider that?"

The nameless hero blushed, because it suddenly struck him very strongly just how ruggedly handsome the man was. Powerfully built, taller than him by about half a foot, and with a sexy beard and mustache. He gave off an impression of great masculine strength, of an experienced warrior who'd seen it all. A man who had faced the horrors of life and had come out stronger, albeit not unscathed. A man who had the strength to protect others from danger, more than most men had, and he knew it.

(Okay, so maybe the nameless hero had done a little background research into who this man was before actually meeting him. But come on, everyone googles each other in the modern world, there wasn't anything wrong with that.)

"Why are you looking at me like that?" the older man asked, snapping the nameless hero out of his thoughts.

"Oh! Sorry! It's nothing. I just, um…"

"Let me guess, you wanted to tell me I'm your father, and ask me what your real name is. Very well. It's—"

"No!" the nameless hero protested, shocking the older man into silence.

"Not yet," said the nameless hero. "I need your help with something first."

"You need my help?" said the man incredulously. "There are billions of others you could ask instead."

"Ragnar," the nameless hero started, tentatively. He couldn't call the man dad because that would be presumptuous of him. This was their first time ever meeting each other. "This isn't something I can ask everyone else to help with. That wouldn't be right. This is your responsibility just as much as mine."

"Fine," the older man, Ragnar, said brusquely. "What do you want, kid?"

The nameless hero glared at him for a moment. Then he schooled his features, took a deep breath and let it out again.

"I want to rescue the real Harry Hirsh. I think I know what my mother did in her attempt to protect us. It was wrong. I want to make things right."

"You saved the world with the power of love and economics," Ragnar snorted. "Just go and talk to your stupid gypsy grandparents and their stupid son-in-law. You can save Harry without my help."

"My reputation can only go so far," the nameless hero told him with a scowl. "I can't just recruit the whole world every time there's a small scale problem, even a really terrible one. Everyone has their own messes to deal with. Just because the bulk of humankind's factional hostility and mutual abuse has ended or is in the process of ending, doesn't mean that evil doesn't still happen on smaller, more personal scales. There are still a lot of serious messes to clean up. I didn't instantly solve the world's problems overnight, I merely made them possible to solve."

There was a pause as Ragnar absorbed all this. Then finally he sighed and his face set with determination.

"Fine," said Ragnar.

"So you'll help?" asked the nameless hero, hopefully.

"I will," said Ragnar. "You're right. This is my responsibility. I can't run away from my past anymore."

And then he gave the nameless hero a half- annoyed, half-amused grin and said, "Or should I say our past?"

The nameless hero grinned back at him, suddenly feeling awkward.

"Um, I know we've only just met, but I'm suddenly feeling a very strong urge to hug you. Would it be alright if I…?"

Ragnar hugged him.

The nameless hero had been expecting a friendly side-hug, maybe followed by an awkward fist-bump. Instead he'd gotten a full bear-hug, one filled with many years of loneliness and grief for his baby boy that had been taken from him and for his wife who had betrayed them both for their own protection before she…

And the nameless hero, who had been starved for human touch nearly his entire life, clung to his lost father's embrace like a lifeline and even snuggled into the man's chest in spite of himself.

They had only just met for the first time. Even though they knew almost nothing of each other with much certainty, they still had vague, general impressions, uncertain mental outlines of who the other was.

Those mere impressions or outlines weren't familiar enough for the two of them to be entirely sure that their relationship was truly one of father and son and not just random strangers clinging to each other. But those mere impressions or outlines still felt more familiar and comforting to them than anything else.

To the nameless hero it was something different, something new, something unknown. He wasn't afraid of the unknown. The unknown was exciting to him. It was an uncharted territory. A world to explore, full of many strange and amazing sights and adventures. And even when an unknown territory became fully explored, the lessons learned and friends made there would become a stable foundation for what would come next, for his next voyage.

To Ragnar it was something he knew intimately well, something he'd thought he'd lost forever. It was knowing that he had a purpose, knowing that he was needed, that someone needed him. It was the feeling of once more having something to fight for or someone to protect. It was having someone close to him, someone who was there, someone who could surprise him and keep things interesting.

The boy (and somehow that's how he looked to Ragnar even though he was supposed to be 28 years old) reminded him a little of himself and a lot of his lost wife. But even more than that there was something different about him, something entirely new that Ragnar couldn't quite place.

It felt like a hint of home. Only a tiny hint of course, since they'd only just met. But still, he had the sense that it could soon become far more than just a hint. Maybe he was being presumptuous by prematurely hugging the boy. Although the boy had asked him to...

Ragnar suddenly noticed that he and the boy (his baby boy? Was he still?) had been locked in a tight embrace for a while, to the point where it may have looked… less than platonic to anyone watching.

While he didn't care about what society at large thought of him since it had been many years since he'd had a family or community whose reputation was worth protecting, there were some lines he knew were not to be crossed.

He abruptly broke the hug and pulled away, his cheeks slightly red as he looked away from his son. His son, one of the world's greatest heroes of the modern era.

And I just treated him as if he's my woman, Ragnar thought to himself in horror. For over a minute.

"Sorry," he told the nameless hero, quietly. "That was…  inappropriate of me."

"No it wasn't," said the nameless hero. "Just premature. I am definitely flattered that a big strong and honorable man like you feels that way about me, even if only a little bit. That hug felt very nice, even though most of it was just basic chemistry and clinging to each other out of loneliness, rather than any intimate, experienced understanding of each other as people."

Ragnar raised an eyebrow.

"It doesn't bother you that I'm your father?" he asked, skeptically.

"Uh, no?" said the nameless hero.

"I'm 56 years old, boy! I'm twice your age!"

"That's kind of a turn on for me, honestly," said the nameless hero with a shrug. "Your feelings are your feelings. They aren't your fault, and they're nothing to be ashamed of. We're both adults here, so it doesn't make you a pedophile or anything like that. And in case you didn't notice, you weren't the only willing participant in that hug. If you're guilty then so am I. And it was just a hug, so…"

Ragnar sighed.

"You make it sound so normal," he said.

"That's because it is," said the nameless hero. "Most people just haven't realized it yet. And since we're both male, there isn't a risk of passing on genetic defects to any kids, by the way. Since, you know, I can't get pregnant. And that's one of the main moral objections people cite for being against incest between consenting adults. Also, after everything society has put me through and everything I've done for them, if anyone tries to interfere in my personal life or my right to choose something so basic as who I want to spend my life with, they will regret it."

"You sound like you're trying to talk me into spending my life with you," Ragnar noted.

"No, I'm just trying to talk you into being open to the possibility," the nameless hero corrected. "Like, if we do happen to fall in love, that there wouldn't be anything wrong with that and we could pursue a romantic relationship if that happens. Not saying it will happen, necessarily, but if it does…"

"I see," said Ragnar, thoughtfully. "I'll think about it."

"Thanks!" said the nameless hero with a smile. "And in the meantime please don't be awkward and just act naturally around me if that's okay? Whether we fall in love or not, whether we become father and son or not (in the social and emotional sense and not just biological), or even if we become some kind of fusion of the two like a father-husband and his son-wife, or if we end up hating each other's guts… it's a bit too early to worry about any of that when we've known each other for less than ten minutes."

"Fair enough," Ragnar agreed. "But the more you talk, the more easily I can imagine myself taking you as my… my son-wife someday. It's rather disturbing."

"I'm not disturbed at all," said the nameless hero.

"Of course you aren't," said Ragnar. "You're the one who put the idea in my head."

"Still not something to worry about either way," the nameless hero reminded him. "Now, about saving Harry…"

Flash 3: The Fall of the Cooper Family

Many years ago, there was once a great and powerful family known as the Coopers. They had struggled long and hard to reach the heights of wealth and power after many generations of poverty.

Most other powerful people either did their best to pretend they didn't exist, or to destroy them utterly.

Despite the hostility they encountered, the Coopers had survived and maintained their good fortune for generations.

And then the schism happened.

One of their women had run away and had an affair with a Scandinavian-American man. An outsider. They'd warned her nothing good would come of it, since outsiders hated their kind and they could never truly coexist. But she didn't listen.

After they'd chased her and her lover all across the country, she'd finally agreed to leave him behind and came back home.

But it wasn't just her. She'd come back with a baby. A hybrid baby. Half Scandinavian, half Mincéiri. The baby was one of their people, but also an outsider. They had no choice but to care for him, since he would not be welcome anywhere else.

And since the baby's mother had killed herself almost as soon as she'd returned with the baby in tow, that baby was now the only remnant her family had left of her. Her husband clung to the child as her last remains, as her legacy. But he also heavily resented the boy for not being his own flesh and blood, for being born of an outsider father who had defiled his wife.

But as the child grew, there seemed to be something strange about him. He had strange ideas and didn't seem to fit in with the other mincéiri children.

Finally, the boy was brought to a doctor to get a DNA test against his step-father's wishes.

What they found was even more horrifying than they'd imagined.

That woman had brought shame upon them all, secretly cursing her own family with her dying breath.

They hadn't known how awfully her true husband had been treating her. If they could have done so without drawing the attention and suspicion of outsiders, they would have immediately banished him from the family after his wife committed suicide.

And they would never have allowed her to return to them if they'd known just what she had brought back with her.

The boy was not a hybrid of Scandinavian and Mincéiri blood. He was purely of Ashkenazi Jewish descent.

And so they'd searched through genealogy databases until they had found a man named Joel Kessler. From him they discovered that the boy's true name was Harry Hirsh, and that his true parents were Dr. Connie Hirsh and Dr. David Hirsh. They even found the hybrid Scandinavian-Mincéiri child in their custody. They were about to approach Dr. and Dr. Hirsh to explain what happened and return their son to them in exchange for the hybrid child.

But then they saw how Dr. and Dr. Hirsh treated the hybrid child. It was even worse than how his true mother's husband treated the Jewish child.

And in the very moment of that revelation, the tension between them became too much. There was now a vile contradiction between themselves, each other, and their own principles.

The Coopers, who used to be one big family, were now three families.

The first wished to send the kidnapped boy back to where he came from, consequences be damned.

The second wished to send him to a different Jewish family than the one he was born to, to parents who were not child abusers. They hoped that such parents would either be able to keep his true origins secret or just not look too closely, in the interests of the child's well-being.

The third wished to do nothing, to keep the child exactly where he already was. The boy was a liability if he ever somehow found out about what that terrible woman had done to him by tricking her own family into being accomplice to his kidnapping.

And it was highly likely that he would find out eventually. And then his escape would reveal the truth of what happened to outsiders and their entire family would be doomed. They would be forced back into poverty or worse hunted down and exiled from this nation like they had been in so many others for centuries.

It didn't matter that the horrible woman had betrayed her family by tricking them into abetting her crimes. Outsiders would blame them all regardless, not just her. Every single one of them would become seen as guilty by association. As baby snatchers.

The three families of Coopers had become bitter enemies locked in a stalemate. But that wouldn't be what the rest of the country saw. They would merely see one family who had kidnapped and mistreated an innocent young boy, and failed to return him to his real parents. Who had even used money and legal tricks to keep him from leaving after he reached his majority.

And that was why the third family knew that the boy (now a man) could not be allowed to escape. He would bring ruin to them all, and take away the futures and livelihoods of their real sons and daughters.

The hybrid child had also become a man. He  had grown stronger and wiser and had amassed many allies. He had somehow, against all odds, successfully orchestrated a plan to bring about world peace without conquering anyone.

That is to say, world peace between the settled peoples of the world. It had yet to be seen if that peace extended to nomadic peoples.

In any case, the hybrid had the respect and goodwill of nearly all humankind, even though they weren't paying much attention to him most of the time.

That respect and goodwill had limits of course. Possibly much stronger limits than they had anticipated, if their information was to be believed.

But if—no—when the hybrid came to free the kidnapped Jew, the world would more than likely side with the hybrid. And that meant that if he sided with any of the three families, the one he chose could potentially gain the sympathy of all humankind, or at least the large chunk of them who still paid any attention to the hybrid.

Only too late did they realize that the hybrid had no intention of negotiating. At least, not with them.

Instead, their sources told them, he was gathering an army of concerned Mincéiri parents. They had no intention of negotiating. They knew of the threat, of the liability the Coopers posed to the reputation and survival of their people in America.

For it was the Coopers' unreasonably extreme distrust of all outsiders that had kept the kidnapped Jew trapped all those years. If they had extended that trust to anyone, that person may have been told about the situation. And then they could have gone in and rescued the kidnapped Jew without bringing legal penalties against any of them except for the abusive man pretending to be his father.

But this they did not do. If they had done sufficiently good background checks, then they could have minimized the risk of catastrophe if the abducted Jew escaped, even if the risk wasn't eliminated entirely. And that risk would have been far less than the risk they took by not extending that trust to outsiders.

The rest of the Mincéiri-American people were pissed at the Coopers. And they were going in to rescue the kidnapped Jew themselves. The Coopers would all be held responsible for their misdeeds. They would take the fall so that the rest of their people in America could stay safe and free.

And if the Coopers tried to use their money and legal tricks to stop them, the rest of their people would bring out their own money and legal tricks in response.

And so the real Harry Hirsh was freed from captivity.

Flash 4: True Names

December 25th, 2022

"We did it!" the nameless hero squealed excitedly as he glomped his father in their hotel room that evening. "Thank you so much!"

Ragnar laughed in joy as he returned his baby boy's embrace, lifted him into the air, spun him around and kissed him—

Oops.

Or wait, not oops. His son (his woman, even though she wasn't actually a woman except by comparison to him) was enthusiastically kissing him back.

And as they had discussed months and months ago, there was nothing wrong with this. Both he and his beloved were consenting adults and they both wanted this, so damn much.

They broke the kiss for a moment and stared into each other's eyes.

"You're so beautiful Shelta," Ragnar told his future wife. "I wish I could hold you in my arms like this forever."

"You'd still have to take breaks you know," said the nameless hero. "Like if you want to eat, use the restroom or like… anything else."

"You know what I mean, girl," said Ragnar fondly.

"I'm sorry?" said the no-longer-nameless hero, smiling in amusement as he wondered how he'd ended up with a Mincéiri girl's name. "Did you just call me girl?"

"I did," said Ragnar with a naughty grin. He kissed Shelta soundly on her pretty little mouth, thrusting his tongue inside.

The nameless hero couldn't help letting out a little moan as he wrapped his arms around his father's neck and returned the kiss.

The two of them pulled apart again, panting for breath.

"There's no way Shelta is my birth name," the no-longer nameless hero told him with a snort.

"Of course not," Ragnar told him. "I realized that only one name wasn't enough to capture your beauty, who you are, or the things I love most about you. That's what you wanted isn't it?"

"More than one name?" asked Shelta, thoughtfully. "That does make sense for me. And yeah, the reason I'd told you not to tell me my name when we first met was because I wanted you to get to know me better first."

"I know," said Ragnar. "Would you like to know your other two names?"

Shelta nodded, her eyes widening in anticipation.

"Your other names are Raulin and Axill," Ragnar told him. "Raulin means 'wise little wolf', and Axill means 'a man who spreads peace'. Axill is your birth name."

"I like them," Axill said, softly. "I think they suit me."

"They do," Ragnar told him proudly. He pulled Raulin into a loving embrace, kissing him on the temple, then kissing Shelta on her neck as his hands started to wander down her back until—

Shelta gasped.

Ragnar gave his woman a naughty look, then leaned down and growled in her ear, "You're making your daddy very happy, babe. More than your mother ever did."

Shelta moaned.

Then Ragnar pulled back and stared into his beloved's eyes again.

"I mean it," he said. "I thought I was happy with her. But with you… "

Raulin giggled.

"I'm glad," he said. "I know she was doing her best with what she had and that she was trying to protect us, but she was a really depressing person who spread gray clouds and dying roses wherever she went. She wasn't evil per se. But, well, she kinda was objectively speaking."

"Yes," said Ragnar, caressing Axill's cheek. "I'd only ever noticed her goodness. When she betrayed us, even though it was out of love, I suddenly started thinking of all the little signs I'd ignored. I could have protected her from her inner demons. I could have done all that I could to help her find more happiness in life than I could provide alone. If only I'd truly understood what she was going through. And then maybe she wouldn't have taken you away from me, babe."

Shelta leaned up and kissed the man she loved.

"I'm back," Axill told him. "And I'm not going anywhere. Also just to make sure we're on the same page, I don't have a dissociated identity or multiple personalities or anything like that. I'm still just one person with just one personality, albeit a rather more multifaceted one than is typical. And I'm not actually a woman except in comparison to you."

"I already know that, boy," Ragnar said with a chuckle before suddenly leaning down and thrusting his tongue deep into his son's mouth and caressing the tongue he found there.

He managed to make Raulin moan before he pulled away again and said, "You don't need to explain it to me."

"I figured," said Axill. "But I thought it might be a good idea to remind you outloud. Just in case."

Ragnar held his baby boy close, resting his chin on Axill's temple.

"Don't worry," he reassured as he started to grope and caress every part of his son's body within reach. "I won't forget."

"Good," said Axill. And then a playful smirk crossed Raulin's face as he added, "But the viewers might."

"What?" asked Ragnar, his hands suddenly stopping at the total nonsequitur.

"Oh yeah, you didn't know?" Raulin joked. "This isn't real life, it's a scifi action movie."

"No way," Ragnar whispered, deciding to play along. "This is too weird to be an action movie."

"Only because all the action movie writers in our universe lack imaginations," said Axill. "They keep trying the same script over and over. But our viewers might not be from our universe."

"I see," said Ragnar, thoughtfully. Then he smiled widely at his beloved with both love and lust filling his eyes. "I believe this is normally when the credits start rolling."

"What?" asked Axil in mock-outrage after a passionate kiss. "They better not! After all the cultural narrative changes I helped make, one of the most important ones should be reflected in movies not ending with a kiss, but with a cliffhanger that inspires other writers to continue the story! The characters need to deal with the aftermath of their adventure, start tackling the even greater challenges of rebuilding or replacing what's broken. Because that's how things happen in real life, that's a large part of what it means to live, and any movie that just skips over all that and says something stupid like 'and they lived happily ever after' is cheapening that—"

Flash 5: They do indeed live happily ever after, at least on average. But that's not the interesting part.

October 6th, 2023

"T-minus 60 seconds… 59… 58… "

Axill and Ragnar sat next to each other, firmly secured in their space-suits.

"Are you ready, son?"

"Yeah!" Raulin squealed. "Ohmigosh this is so exciting! We're actually going to the Moon!"

"And on one of the finest ships ever made by SpaceX!" said the scientist guy leading the expedition. "Completely reusable! And durable enough to last for lightyears! This ship is truly a marvel."

"I didn't know space-sex could make something like this!" Raulin joked. "Hey dad, maybe we should have some!"

"You're the best wife a man could ever ask for, son," said Ragnar. "But I still can't get you pregnant with a human baby no matter how much I try. What makes you think I can knock you up with a spaceship baby!?"

"GMO egg cells from my stem cells up my ass," Raulin and Shelta answered. "Special lube catches zygotes then hardens. Remove and dissolve that hardened lube in an inflatable external womb. Affordable modern healthcare can treat any resulting genetic conditions in an inbred newborn in most cases where the parents are healthy—unless the inbred newborn is the product of an already inbred parent. And such defects are very rare if the parents themselves weren't inbred. So long as our family's not isolated from society, the chances of cumulative inbreeding

Ragnar's eyes widened in shock, excitement and pride. His son-wife was a genius.

"LIFTOFF!"

Flash 6: Reunion

The real Harry Hirsh sat down heavily on a park bench on a chilly not-quite-winter morning in February 2023. He had no idea where he was except that apparently it was somewhere in North Carolina.

He had emerged into a very different world than he had imagined. Everyone else seemed to know how to deal with it better than he did. No one had bothered to prepare him at all. Where was he even supposed to start?

He supposed he could start by meeting his real birth parents. But he had a feeling that if he did, they'd only disappoint him. After all, he knew it was for damn good reason they were constantly laughed at by historians and anthropologists and often ignored by everyone else.

Because they'd treated Axill Ragnarson, one of the two great heroes who had orchestrated a sustainable world peace, much the same way a certain Mr. Adrian Cooper had treated him.

And then there were the rest of his extended family who had stood by as Axill had suffered, who had sometimes even become deliberate accomplices in his confinement, and who blamed him for everything while leaving blameless the child abusers who called themselves his parents.

Harry didn't want to face them. After all this time he'd wasted, his entire life fantasizing about not being a Cooper and about his real family someday descending upon the Cooper estate to set him free…

They never came. They never even looked for him. It was Axill, his replacement who had set him free. It was his replacement, with the help of his replacement's father-husband, who had rescued him.

And wasn't that just a perfect headline for the big corporate media outlets?

Jewish Baby kidnapped by Wealthy Gypsy Family. Rescued Decades Later by 10,000 Wealthy Gypsies in Street Protest Orchestrated by Half-gypsy Once Called "Harry Hirsh" and his Father-Husband.

That was exactly the headline they'd gone with. A perfect storm. The only factual inaccuracy in their reporting was that Axill and his father hadn't actually been wed yet.

Their wedding was scheduled for later in the year. Harry knew that because he had been invited. But that was a minor enough detail in the story that no one cared about the fact that the big media outlets got it wrong.

Ever since Axill and his brother Alex had orchestrated world peace, fear mongering was no longer so profitable to the large corporate media outlets.

And those outlets had finally realized that there was enough shock value to be found in the real world without ever needing to exaggerate, make anything up, nor terrify their viewers. And that shock value was very profitable.

"Hey! We finally found you!"

A young man and woman who looked about the same age as Harry himself quickly walked over to him.

Harry glared at them and asked. "Why are you here?"

Why now? Why not decades ago? You think I still want to talk to you?

"Look, I'm sorry about what happened. I'm Alice. Your sister?"

"And I'm her husband, Noah," said the man standing next to her. "Um, it's good to meet you."

The two of them looked rather cute together. He couldn't help mentally comparing them to another couple he knew which was less cute and more badass.

Harry shook his head, remembering everything that had happened.

"Why are you here?" he asked again, wearily.

"We're planning a big apology dinner," Alice told him. "Lots of Jews and Mincéiri are coming."

"Why should I care?" asked Harry. "I don't want to talk to you."

"We won't be going," said Noah. "Your parents won't be going either."

"And the Coopers?" Harry asked.

"They weren't invited," said Alice.

There was an awkward pause.

"I know you've been through a lot," said Alice. "And I know you're not ready to forgive us for treating Axill the same way the Coopers treated you. But the rest of our family deserves a second chance. I mean, it's our family."

She had stressed that last part as if it was all that needed to be said. That argument would never have worked on Axill.

"Fine," said Harry reluctantly. "I'll go."