The delights of uncertainty

She literally went “debate me! Debate me!” Over and over like the grifter she is and when she couldn’t get what she wanted and when “no” wasn’t enough she resorted to retaliatory sex-pestery, posting an image of somebody’s body with intention to shame and embarrass and spawn more waspish tittering from her internet followers.

(1) A person (A) commits an offence if—

(a) A intentionally shares a photograph or film which shows, or appears to show, another person (B) in an intimate state, (b) B does not consent to the sharing of the photograph or film, and (c) A does not reasonably believe that B consents.

(2) A person (A) commits an offence if—

the closest thing to real soulmates you can find

we fought in the same trenches and have a warrior's bond that carries over into every stage of life

friend i sit next to in every class and pass notes to/whisper to constantly

academic peer/colleague that i respect and have a little intellectual crush on

neighbour in the same apartment block that i say hi to on the stairs

neighbour across the street who i wave at every morning and evening

we're regulars at the same bar

If you've committed a crime and a detective gathers everyone involved in the room, especially if he's not actually a detective and is instead a novelist, puzzle-setter, psychic, fake psychic, dog, chess grandmaster, etc. ...

YOU SHOULD NOT CONFESS.

Every year, hundreds of people are put away by non-traditional "detectives" who have either inserted themselves into the case or are working with the police in a dubiously legal capacity as advisor. In 99% of these cases, the murderer gives a full confession even though the evidence against them is circumstantial at best and often requires a long just-so story which can only guess at motive.

If this happens to you, stay quiet, do not attempt to defend yourself or talk your way out of it, only say "I want a lawyer".

Now if you find yourself being investigated by a boy genius, magician's assistant, anthropologist, classics scholar, or philosopher, it's likely that refusing to talk to the police (or investigator with no legal authority) is merely the end of the second act, and by the end of the third act they will have you dead to rights.

YOU SHOULD STILL NOT CONFESS.

Make them take it to court. Force the eccentric detective and his straight-laced police partner to take the stand and explain their methods to a jury of your peers. Have your lawyer look at the chain of custody on the evidence, especially if you believe it to have been handled by someone who has only bumbled into detective work through their natural charm and/or unique set of skills and outsider perspective that come in handy more often than they should.

But there’s a world of difference between doing what you love for you, and doing what you love for a paycheck. 

I went to undergrad for graphic design and 3-D design–art and more art, I usually say–and I loved it. You know what I didn’t love? Trying to collect my fees from clients. Trying to meet unrealistic, over-simplified or over-specific briefs from people who didn’t know what they were talking about. Coming home, having worked creatively all day, with no creative juice left for the things I wanted to do.

You know what I would tell you instead? Do something that you can be interested in, with people you like.

You don’t have to love it. Loving your work can be a lot, and it often means you have to live in your job 24/7. Some people can do that. Not everyone can, or should.  But if you can find work that’s interesting enough that it doesn’t feel tedious, and people you can enjoy spending your 9-5 with, and you can make money, that’s great! It means you can do the things you love for you.

I’m in law school now. It’s interesting work, and difficult, and I like doing it. I like how complicated it gets, and I like the stories it tells. But I don’t come home and read law journals for fun. I come home, and I sculpt, and I draw, and I paint, and I read. I do these things for me.

I chose to take a job that was not the most high-paying option available to me, because it wouldn’t require me to bill my time, I would have a better work-life balance, I found the work more engaging, and I really loved the office. It has paid off so much.

I get to walk to work, and most days I leave my laptop behind when I walk home at five. I have a little house with a little garden and a bunch of seedlings sprouting too early for spring. I have two stupid cats and two stupider doves and they make me happy. I put a little money into food and shelter for the neighborhood strays and name all my visiting opossums Harold. My art gets done when I feel inspiration striking, sometimes in the middle of the night, and I let my hobby fund itself without the pressure of deadlines. There is so much joy in making only what I want to. My sleep schedule has stabilized. For the first time in my life, I know the shape my days will take weeks and months away, because my routine is consistent, and I never knew what a peace that was. My job is predictable but never boring, interesting but not consuming, and it’s just a job. 

There are people who will tell you–people who have told me–that turning my back on an artistic career or a career you have “potential” in is selling out, or settling.