Sun and Moon - The Presidential Election of 2040

[Unapologetic Chinaperson]

November 15, 2040 - Location Undisclosed, China

Her apartment was dank and cramped, with enough room just for a bed and a desk. There was no space for a kitchenette or even a bathroom. Whenever nature called, she would have to go to the communal restroom at the end of the hall, which was seriously annoying. Even so, she smiled as she opened the door to her apartment. She was phone.

She got out her smartphone, its blue glow being the only light in the apartment. It was a very old one, a souped-up Nokia 2K, but it did the job really well. It was much better suited for the task than any of the newfangled implants young people were using, or even most smartphones or PCs on the market. Here, security was paramount. The Nokia wasn’t numero uno in that regard, but short of obtaining a quantum computer herself, this was the best he could do. It had worked so far, and that was good enough.

She needed all the security he could get to evade the Chinese Communist Party, whose surveillance abilities were the stuff of legend. No other entity could keep such close tabs on over one billion people and their hopes and dreams. It had it most advanced surveillance tech in the world, from AI secret agents that patrol social media websites to mini-cameras with instant facial recognition tech that can be sewn in clothing. Its enemies quaked and trembled in fear, never knowing when (and it was always when, not if) they will be caught. The fact that her cover hadn’t been blown yet was seriously impressive; perhaps she should get a medal, she thought.

A message popped up on the Nokia, safe after undergoing multiple rounds of encryption and decryption and other technical mumbo-jumbo she didn’t understand. Alerted by her phone, she carefully read it, nodding as she scanned each word.

“Protocol Lit.”

A smile formed on her face. She knew what each word meant. Back at Blue Moon in downtown Beijing, after giving her target enough drinks to black out, she had uploaded a virtual world onto her brain implant, one that was custom-made just for said target. Now the target was completely immersed, and it was only a matter of time before she becomes psychologically overpowered and joins them. It was a risky move, especially in the center of Beijing during the Sino-American Dialogues - the time and place where the CCP had total control - but apparently it worked.

As soon as she finished reading, she yawned. It was getting late - 2:15 AM, Beijing Time - and they did all they could do. She put her Nokia aside and started taking off her green dress in complete excitement, as she barely concealed her giddy excitement.

Score one for the Neo-Rationalist Buddhists, she thought. Soon, Vicky, you will join your mother and become one of us.

End of Chapter 4

[Unapologetic Chinaperson]

Hope you all liked Chapter 4, despite taking five months to complete. Unfortunately, this semester I have a very heavy courseload at university, so I probably won't be touching this until the end of May. (Likewise when junior year starts in September.) But Chapter 5 will be coming, and we'll start to answer the important questions, like:

Who are the Neo-Rationalist Buddhists?
How did Amber and Crystal react to Trump's inauguration?
What exactly have the Dems been up to?

In the meantime, please enjoy this picture of the First Gentleman of the United States, Michael B. Jordan Coleman Harris.

[Unapologetic Chinaperson]

Will Chapter 5 cover the 2020 election? A simple yes or no would be fine. Either way, I am very much looking forward to that election

2020 election? No.

2017 election? We'll see.

[Unapologetic Chinaperson]

Chapter 5: Rude Love

“all organizing is science fiction.

we are bending the future, together, into something we have never experienced. a world where everyone experiences abundance, access, pleasure, human rights, dignity, freedom, transformative justice, peace. we long for this, we believe it is possible.”

Adrienne Marie-Brown, Writer, Octavia’s Brood

January 21, 2017 - Washington, D.C.

The sky was about to cry the day Melissa and I arrived at Union Station. It was the first full day of Trump’s rule, the first full day of the apocalypse. I still remembered the night when he won, from his surprise wins in the Midwest (like if you met Melissa you’d think Minnesota was all liberal, all the time!), to the longing cries of my friends, and even that weird dream I had where Amber’s friend died or something. I don’t know, I often have weird dreams. If only that reality was just another one of those.

But while the sky was gray and somber, the people below were anything but. They were mad. They wanted Trump out, and nothing would stop in their way. Not even all the trouble we went through, like getting up at six in the morning to catch the JHMI Shuttle to Baltimore Penn Station, only to find out that a line of pink-hatted activists had already stretched around the entire block. Literally. It was so absurd, I just had to take a picture of it.

After waiting for what seemed like an hour or two in line, we gave up and decided to split an Uber, only to wait another half an hour to find a driver who wouldn’t cancel on us.

It wasn’t any easier when we got here and walked into Union Station, with thousands of people and their bulky coats and signs trying to squeeze in like sardines in a can. The only empty space I could find was around a table manned by a baggy-eyed Trump supporter selling red MAGA hats, who was visibly disappointed by the lack of customers today.

“Melissa,” I said as she scanned the station for a bathroom, “you know where we’re supposed to go right?”

“How am I supposed to know?” Melissa said. “You’re the president of the damn club! Even if we’re the only two who came as part of it!”

“It’s not my fault that everyone’s going with the socialists and feminists instead, Miss Melissa Michova” I said, referring to the Hopkins Progressives and the Hopkins Feminists clubs, respectively.

“Are are you saying that we’re not socialists or feminists ourselves?” my friend asked.

“Yes to the second one,” I responded, shrugging, “but to the first one, I guess that depends.”

“Tell that to Amber, Miss Nancy Pelosi,” Melissa said as she finally spotted the women’s restroom. As she went, I waited outside, wondering whether Amber Moon will show up or stay in her dorm posting angry radical screeds on Facebook.

As soon as Melissa finished, we walked out of Union Station, passed by a very out-of-place “Abortion is Murder” truck, and mindlessly followed the main crowd as they winded their way away from Columbia Circle, pass the utterly packed Corner Bakery Cafe, and through Louisiana Avenue to the National Mall. Though the January air was normally fresh and cold, the sheer mass of people - women, men, and children alike - ensured a wet and humid experience. The lines of green and white porta-potties on the streets did not help.

In due time, we finally made it to the National Mall, a place of unprecedented people crush. In the distance, I could barely see the group of celebrity activists who were supposedly trying to make their stump speeches. Not that I had to; the real energy today was with the common people and their chants.

“Not my president!”

“This is what democracy looks like!”

“My body, my choice!”

“No war with China! No grabbing of vaginas!”

“Okay I’m not saying that one,” I said, referring to the last chant.

“You don’t think Trump’s gonna start a war with China?” Melissa said, as she poked and prodded the crowd to find a way in.

“Who knows,” I said, “I’m not gonna say ‘vagina.’”

“Why not?” Melissa asked. “Politeness in politics is over.”

In front of us, a man noticed us trying to squeeze in and made some room. “Sorry,” Melissa said as she grabbed my wrist and led me in.

“I can’t believe it,” Melissa said as we snaked through the gazillions of people in front of us. It was an intensely uncomfortable experience, as my purse and body rubbed against everyone else as we made our way through this shifting mass.

“What?” I asked. “What can’t you believe?”

“What?” Melissa said. “I can’t hear you!”

“I said,” taking a deep breath, “What can you not believe?!”

“Oh,” Melissa said, her confusion slightly relieved. “I’m just excited that we’re in the middle of making history!”

I sighed. “We shouldn’t have to be making history in the first place!”

That seemed to shut her up for a bit. “You’re right,” Melissa said quietly, which I could somehow hear over all these chants. “But it’s still pretty amazing. Just look at all these signs. Make sure you take pictures of all of them.

I looked around, and indeed there were tons of signs, from big and fancy to plain and simple. Some of them were scathing screeds of anti-Trumpism; others were actually quite funny. We were lucky that we didn’t get any paper cuts from the any of them. I kind of wish that we had made a poster, but oh well. Melissa let go of my wrist as I took out my phone and started taking pics:

As I was busy taking pics of everything around me and thinking of what to put on my Instagram feed, I heard a familiar voice. “Did you hear that?” I asked Melissa.

“What?” she said.

“It’s coming from there,” I replied. This time I grabbed her hand as we headed in the direction I pointed it. I wish I was as graceful as Melissa was when she made her way. If she was a viper who could slide through any nook and cranny, I was an elephant who knocked down everyone and everything in the way.

As we got closer, the words became clearer.

“What is the symptom?”

“Trump!”

“What is the disease?”

“Capitalism!”

“What is the solution?”

“Socialism!”

Melissa turned towards me, now knowing who I was talking about. “Amber, we said in unison.”

We were both fairly short girls, so it took effort stretching our necks over heads and hats to see what was going on. But we could see it. At the center of a circle stood Amber on an unseen platform, armed with nothing but her voice, a small black and orange anarchist sign she held in her right hand, and her own convictions.

With her short blond hair as recognizable as the fire on the Statue of Liberty, we could immediately spot her. But she immediately eyed us back. As soon as she finished, she stepped down and parted the ring of people around her to talk to us.

“I see you neoliberals had the stones to make it,” she said, wearing a quizzical expression on her face.

The three of us stood there awkwardly in silence as the sea of protesters flowed around us. The circle behind her disappeared as people found other, more interesting speakers to listen to. But Amber didn’t mind. Just as she caused the silence, she broke it, taking out what looked like two cookies packaged in red wrapping out of a Hopkins drawstring bag.

“Choco Pies?” Amber asked with a quirky smile, offering us some of the famous Korean marshmallow snack.

“Sure,” Melissa said, taking one.

“I guess I’ll have one too,” I said, wondering about the path each of us will take as we resist our new president.

[Unapologetic Chinaperson]

Now that classes are over, I'm back! And besides covering the first few months of the Trump Administration, I'm also planning to cover the 2040 New Hampshire primaries, and perhaps a few others.

Except...

The mapmaking instructions in the pinned thread seem to be a bit outdated (I followed the instructions and all I got were white states with blank outlines.) Does anyone know how to make colorful primary maps these days?

[Unapologetic Chinaperson]

Oh and next update will be an Atlas thread update. Who wants to be in this one?

[Unapologetic Chinaperson]

Just to be clear this next Atlas update will be right after the 2017 Women's March. If you wern't on the Atlas then I'll just make you newbies. (Consider Trump winning MN+NH as extra motivation for joining early.)

[Unapologetic Chinaperson]

 Atlas Forum
- Forum Community
-- Forum Community (Moderators: TexasGurl, Cath, Attorney General TJ)
--- Anyone went to the Women's March?

#ImpeachTrump nj_dem YaBB God ★★★★★ Posts: 1411

Anyone went to the Women's March? « on: January 21, 2017, 08:42:00 pm »I went to the Women's March in DC with a friend. Lots of people from Hopkins did. Wow it was crowded, but it was lovely. Did anyone else go? I'm curious now.

ExtremeLiberal ExtremeDemocrat YaBB God ★★★★★ Posts: 4113

Anyone went to the Women's March? « Reply # 1 on: January 21, 2017, 08:44:44 pm »Went to the one in Nashville. I was so happy that I was around so many fellow citizens who want to stand up for womens' right to choose!

morgankingsley Jr. Member ★★★★ Posts: 114

Anyone went to the Women's March? « Reply #2 on: January 21, 2017, 08:47:31 pm » You must be logged in to read this quote. God do you have to insert an abortion rights screed every time you post? I get you're passionate, and I actually support abortion rights, but please it's kind of annoying.

JFK KennedyWannabe99 Sr. Member ★★★★ Posts: 261

Anyone went to the Women's March? « Reply #3 on: January 21, 2017, 08:48:18 pm » You must be logged in to read this quote. God do you have to insert an abortion rights screed every time you post? I get you're passionate, but please.[/quote] Abortion rights was literally one of the main issues of the march. Ironically, as the OP is from Hopkins, I went to the march in Baltimore

Admiral President YaBB God ★★★★★ Posts: 1723

Anyone went to the Women's March? « Reply #4 on: January 21, 2017, 08:49:30 pm »Nah why would I? It's all a bunch of people who can't handle the fact their candidate lost. I'm sure some of them would go back to being regular boring centrist people by Christmas.

[Unapologetic Chinaperson]

January 22, 2017 - BWI Airport, Baltimore, Maryland

For Isaac Hassan, it was an uneventful plane flight. After spending winter break with his family back in Dearborn, he had a great time staying in Dubai, enjoying the sights of the Burj Khalifa and the Burj al-Arab. But now, it was time to return to Hopkins. To simplify logistics, while his parents stayed another week in Italy (they spent their lives raising him; they needed a break), he was to directly fly from Honolulu to Baltimore. As a somewhat tall person - five-foot-ten, the last time he checked - squeezing into economy class for nearly a day was not the most pleasant experience, but it was not like he could enjoy luxury all the time.

But Isaac was excited about Hopkins. It was going to be the last semester of senior year. One more semester before he graduates with a degree in mechanical engineering. One more semester of busting his brain in the library, getting wasted with friends, and leading the College Republicans.

He thought about the last part as the plane landed calmly on the BWI runway. It was an “interesting” experience since he and his club decided to support Donald Trump. It wasn’t just Crystal and the College Dems, though they did post a scathing response on Facebook. Literally every left-leaning group on campus roasted them, even after Trump won. No wonder everyone called them snowflakes. But even some of his fellow Republicans have since questioned the decision. A few of them stopped showing up to meetings because of this. But no matter. Hopefully the core will stick around for the spring.

Soon, everyone got out of their seats and, one by one, walked out in the aisle, got their backs, and shuffled their way towards the front. As soon as Isaac got his blue spinner case, he carefully followed the crowd to the door. Since he was tall and his suitcase tiny (he was a light packer), he carried it over his head until he arrived on the jetway.

But as soon as he put his suitcase down, he heard something strange. Faint chanting, which grew louder as he got closer to the airport terminal. Soon, while the chants were still faint, he was able to make out what everyone was saying.

“Let them in! Let them in!”

“No walls, no registry, no white supremacy!”

"No hate, no fear, immigrants are welcome here!”

Oh no, Isaac thought as he made his way to immigration. Did the #Resistance, as they were calling themselves these days, invade the airports now? Maybe, he jokingly thought, they knew he was coming to BWI so they targeted the airport to annoy him. No matter. Unlike them, he wasn’t to be easily triggered by a bunch of liberals with cardboard signs.

This was also a sign, Isaac also thought, that the airport needs to improve its sound insulation.

But then he saw something else. To the side, a ways away from the main line, a family of four sat in the corner, surrounded by a bunch of immigration officers hovering over them like vultures over their prey. They looked Middle Eastern, just like him. Perhaps they, like him, were Egyptian. The mother wore a hijab just like his own mom, though it was a bright red, rather than the beige and minimalistic ones his mom prefered. The kids, a boy in jeans and a t-shirt and a girl in a polka-dotted dress, looked around, wondering what was going on and what will happen next to their family.

[Unapologetic Chinaperson]

Trump issues travel ban, registry through EO

Reported on January 22, 2017 by CNN

In the evening of January 21, only a few hours after he was sworn in as President, Donald Trump signed an executive order which suspended travel from eight countries and called for the establishment of a registry for citizens from these countries.

The eight countries targeted in Executive Order 13769, as the order is formally designated, were Iran, Iraq, Syria, Yemen, Sudan, Libya, Somalia, and Chad. Any travel from these eight Muslim-majority countries have been suspended for a 90-day period, and visas would no longer to be issued to citizens of these countries. Any pre-existing visa would be “provisionally revoked,” and any national of these countries would be barred from entering the US. In addition, the executive order calls for the establishment a yet-unnamed registry on which citizens from these eight countries would be required to sign up for.

The executive order suspends the admittance of all refugees to the US for 120 days, and suspends the admittance of Syrian refugees indefinitely. The order lowers the number of refugees admitted to the US to 50,000, half the total of 123,000 who were admitted in 2016.

“I called for extreme vetting,” Trump said shortly after making the executive order public. “We need extreme vetting. Obama didn’t do it, he’s fine with letting radical Islamic terrorists enter the US. But we’re not fine with this. We’re not. We’re going to implement extreme vetting, and we’re going to make America safe again.”

Immediately after the order was signed, immigration officials at airports around the US have detained citizens of these nations. People from these countries who were about to board flights to the US have also been detained at airports outside the US.

While supported by members of the Trump Administration, particularly by recently-named Chief Strategist Steve Bannon, and by many members of the Republican Party, the ban has been condemned by Democratic politicians.

“Trump, by issuing this brazenly Islamophobic Muslim ban, has shown on his first day that he is counter to the ideals America was founded upon,” said House Minority Leader Nancy Pelosi.

In addition to statements by politicians, protests have sprung up against the executive order at airports around the country, demanding that the order is revoked and that those detained are let into the country.

Related:
 - Robert Reich: “We all convert to Islam”
 - Massive anti-Trump protests spring up at airports
 - Trump selects Sessions for AG, Price for HHS Secretary

[Unapologetic Chinaperson]

January 25, 2017 - Charles Village, Baltimore, Maryland

I was mad. First day in office, just hours after me and Melissa and millions of others marched in the largest protest in history, Trump just up and banned Muslims and put them on a registry. He also reinstituted the global gag rule on abortion, and who knows what else he might do this weekend, let alone the next four years? It was as if our voices and our marches didn’t matter and will never matter.

Such thoughts were depressing, and sometimes you need to practice self-care. Though even that is a privilege; the ones most harmed by Trump won’t be able to take a break as they’re being crushed under the boot of this administration. But for my own sanity, I had to exercise that privilege. And what better way to do that than to hang out with happy people, like Isaac?

Ah, Isaac Hassan. He was a man of contradictions. A practicing Muslim with a very Christian name who’s also a huge Trump supporter. Only on his Instagram can he stand next to his hijab-wearing immigrant mom in one photo, and next to Rick Snyder in another. Someone with completely different views from my own, yet we’re still friends the four years I knew him at Hopkins.

“So,” I said as the two of us sat down at Chipotle, after a short walk from our recently-started classes on campus nearby. He unwrapped his order, a chicken burrito. I ordered chicken also, since it was the cheapest meat. Which brought me to another point: he never ordered pork, as he was a devout Muslim who kept halal. (But when it came to alcohol and frat parties, that devoutness often gets thrown out the window.)

“So what,” Isaac said as he bit into his burrito. “I heard it was a tough week for you libs.” I said nothing, instead electing to stare back at him with a “You don’t say?” expression.

“I hope you’re happy,” I said, opting not to touch my food at the moment. “The finally did it. They goddamned did it.”

“Did what?”

“Banned Muslims.”

Now it was Isaac’s turn to rebut. “That was not a Muslim ban,” he said, his mouth full with chicken and lettuce. “It’s a ban from specific countries, and these countries present a terrorism risk to us. Most of the countries on the ban - save Chad, I don’t know why Chad’s on there - were from a list the Obama administration made!”

“But,” I said before Isaac cut me off.

“If this was a Muslim ban, why is Indonesia, the largest Muslim country in the world, not on the list? Why isn’t Pakistan or Bangladesh? They have mostly Muslim populations that are in the hundreds of millions, yet they’re not affected by the ban.”

“He’s only banning people from these specific countries because that’s what he and Bannon can get away with!” I said. “You really think that someone who called for a ‘complete and total shutdown on Muslims’” - I made scarce quotes with my fingers to emphasize my point - “not have discriminatory intent here?”

“That’s just getting into a can of worms here,” Isaac said. “Like you’re really going to say that the President can’t have control over immigration policy - an area that he has wide latitude on - because of something he said on the campaign trail?”

“You see-” I was prepared to respond to Isaac when I got a text. It was from Melissa. Like with Isaac, I knew Melissa for four years here, and I knew she was weird. But this was out of left field even for her. Like is this weird?

“What’s wrong?” Isaac asked, noticing my facial expressions as I read her texts.

“Take a look at this.” I held the phone out for Isaac to read.

“‘Hey Crys I’m f**ing tired of orange mango bullying Muslims,” said the text. “He’s gonna have to go thru me now. I’m converting to Islam.”

It took Isaac a full minute to process what he read. It also took a full minute for me to come to my own senses.”

“You serious?” I texted back.

“Yes,” Melissa replied. Just a simple ‘yes,’ nothing more, nothing less.

Isaac sighed. “And I thought what Robert Reich said was a joke. I respect her decision, but just so she knows, she’s not getting brownie points from us Muslims for converting. I’m all for people for people converting for the right reasons, but doing so to become an even more special snowflake in the hashtag-Resistance ain’t one of them.”

I sighed also. “Well you know, it’s Melissa. We know who Melissa is.”

“I do too,” said Isaac, “but I think this is far even for her.”

“You never know what’s a Melissa thing until it happens,” I said.

It took another minute for Isaac or me to say anything else. “I’ll give her a week,” he said, breaking the silence.

I felt a bit more optimistic. “I’ll give her two. Maybe more. I think she’s stubborn enough. Wanna bet?”

“Technically gambling is haram but sure,” he said. “But only a dollar. Or another burrito.”

“A burrito’s eight dollars here,” I said, pointing at the menu. “A dollar it is.”

[Unapologetic Chinaperson]

Rudy Giuliani confirmed as Secretary of State

Reported on CNN.com
February 10, 2017

In a close, near party-line vote, the Senate confirmed former New York City mayor Rudy Giuliani (R-NY) to serve as the next Secretary of the State. The Senate voted 55-45 in favor, with all Republicans in favor and all but three Democrats opposed.

The mayor of New York City during the 9/11 attacks, Giuliani is extremely prominent in conservative Republican circles. He was a featured speaker at the 2016 Republican National Convention, where he gave a resounding endorsement of Trump during his campaign. Some Senate Democrats, including Cory Booker (D-NJ) called out Trump for what they perceive as naked political favoritism. Others questioned Giuliani over his controversial term as mayor, as well as his qualifications for the chief diplomatic office.

Other names that were mentioned for the cabinet positions included former Exxon CEO Rex Tillerson and former presidential candidate Mitt Romney.

The vote comes shortly after the confirmation of several other high-profile Trump nominations, including that of Rep. Tom Price (R-GA) for Secretary of Health and Human Services and West Virginia Attorney General Patrick Morrisey for EPA administrator last week. Both of those confirmations were also split on partisan lines.

Related:
 - Hawaii judge issues stay against Trump travel ban
 - Trump signs executive order scaling back Dodd-Frank Act
 - Trump administration opens NAFTA renegotiation talks

[Unapologetic Chinaperson]

Ross edges out Ellison in DNC Chair race

February 25, 2017

After a close and contentious race, former government official Alec Ross edged out Rep. Keith Ellison (D-MN) to be the next chair of the Democratic National Committee.

“Today is a big day for the Democratic Party,” Ross said in his post-victory speech, after he received 240 votes in the final round of voting compared to Ellisons’ 195, “but it is a big day during dark times. When Republicans have control of all three branches of government, when poor leadership has caused the decimation of the Democratic Party on the federal, state, and local level, we need solid and forward-thinking leadership to bring the party up from the ruins and create a better future for our children and our nation.”

Shortly after accepting his victory, Ross announced that he was appointing fellow Obama administration official Krish Vignarajah to the position of deputy DNC chair. The move was voted on and accepted by the majority of delegates, though a few opposed the move after questioning why Ellison had not been appointed to the newly-inaugurated position.

Ross’ victory, which came after several rounds of voting by top Democratic Party officials, was seen as a victory of the establishment wing of the party by many observers. As a senior advisor to former Secretary of State and presidential candidate Hillary Clinton, he was seen by many as the Obamas’ preferred pick for the office, as opposed to the Sanders-backed Ellison. However, Ellison has faced his own criticisms, mainly revolving around whether he would be able to effectively serve as chair as a sitting Congressman.

The DNC chair race was seen as an opportunity for the DNC to remake itself after the controversial term of former chair Rep. Debbie Wasserman Schultz (D-FL) and interim chair Donna Brazile. Schultz resigned in June 2016 following allegations that under her tenure, the DNC showed biased towards the Clinton campaign over Sanders.

While Ross and Ellison were the two finalists, a number of other Democrats ran for the office, including South Bend, Indiana mayor Pete Buttigieg, who finished in third place. Former Secretary of Labor Tom Perez was floated around as a potential candidate, but he ultimately decided against running, endorsing Ross for chair instead.

Related:
 - North Korea fires missile into the Sea of Japan
 - Trump tweets supporting removal of last Dakota Access pipeline protesters
 - White supremacist kills Indian engineer, injures 2 others, in Kansas diner

[Unapologetic Chinaperson]

 Atlas Forum
- U.S. General Discussion
-- U.S. General Discussion (Moderators: TexasGurl, Torie, Vice President PiT)
--- DNC Chair Megathread (UPDATE: Ross Wins)

○∙◄☻¥tπ[╪AV┼cVê└ jfern YaBB God ★★★★★ Posts: 39,112

DNC Chair Megathread (UPDATE: Ross Wins) « Reply # 533 on: February 25, 2017, 04:42:00 pm »The Democrats had one chance to shake off Hillary's failed image, and they got someone who was LITERALLY her Senior Advisor to run the party. I'm so done with them.

God Music BRTD YaBB God ★★★★★ Posts: 76,221

DNC Chair Megathread (UPDATE: Ross Wins) « Reply # 534 on: February 25, 2017, 04:43:20 pm »I think this is a great result. Ross gets to stay in Washington to manage the DNC, and Ellison keeps on doing his thing in Congress without distraction. It's perfect. And I say this as someone who voted for Ellison five times.

○∙◄☻¥tπ[╪AV┼cVê└ jfern YaBB God ★★★★★ Posts: 39,112

DNC Chair Megathread (UPDATE: Ross Wins) « Reply # 535 on: February 25, 2017, 04:45:21 pm » You must be logged in to read this quote. You think this is great? The DNC for once had the chance to make things right with Ellison, and they instead do the complete opposite.

maineiac4434 MAINEiac4434 YaBB God ★★★★★ Posts: 4511

DNC Chair Megathread (UPDATE: Ross Wins) « Reply # 536 on: February 25, 2017, 04:45:44 pm »I think the DNC may have made the right call here. I like Ellison's policies, but I don't think he'd be effective being both a congressman and DNC chair. Plus he's a black Muslim from Minneapolis. I hate to say it but you can imagine the conspiracy theories if he was elected chair.

Admiral President YaBB God ★★★★★ Posts: 1791

DNC Chair Megathread (UPDATE: Ross Wins) « Reply # 537 on: February 25, 2017, 04:46:32 pm »Great news. The Dems already have Louis Fakharran and Linda Sarousour. We don't need another one of them to become chair of the party.

[Unapologetic Chinaperson]

North Korea conducts 6th nuclear test

March 13, 2017

North Korea has conducted its sixth nuclear test today, the United States and South Korean governments confirmed yesterday. The nuclear test comes shortly after a series of missile launches into the Sea of Japan, increasing already-heightened tensions on the Korean peninsula.

The United States Geological Survey has reported a 6.3-magnitude earthquake originating from the Punggye-ri nuclear test site. While the North Korean government has announced that the recently-detonated device was a hydrogen bomb, independent sources have put the estimated yield between 70 and 140 kilotons of TNT, equivalent to five to ten times the yield of the “Little Boy” bomb that was dropped on Hiroshima and well below the typical yield of modern thermonuclear weapons.

The international community responded rapidly in response to the test. The UN Security Council held an emergency meeting to discuss the test, and world leaders have condemned the test, as well as North Korea’s previous missile tests. In a tweet, Trump wrote “North Korea conducted a nuclear test. Very bad! They must stop this dangerous path!”

Secretary of State Rudy Giuliani echoed these sentiments: “What North Korea is doing is nothing short of provocation towards the US and our allies, especially South Korea and Japan. For this reason, we cannot take options off the table when it comes to dealing with the North Korean danger.”

Last month, on February 26, North Korea launched an ICBM into the Sea of Japan. Analysts say that the test demonstrates that North Korea has a missile that is capable of striking parts of the US mainland, particularly the West Coast.

Related:
 - DHS conducts preliminary assessment for US-Mexico border wall
 - Trump’s second travel ban blocked by federal judge
 - House confirms existence of investigation into Trump ties with Russia

[Unapologetic Chinaperson]

As for the collab timeline questions:

Short answer: No, this is not a collab timeline

Long answer: There may be some things that I might outsource to willing volunteers, especially things I'm not too familiar with, like sports. (I've been thinking about doing so for Super Bowl LXXIV in this chapter, so look out for that when that comes.) But for the most part, the politics, elections, and storyline are all written by me.

[Unapologetic Chinaperson]

My personal opinion is that collabs should not even be a thing. Remember Biden Years or Believe in America? I know those weren't Atlas, and instead on Alternate History, but jesus fuking christ

I actually don't. Were those TLs super bad?

[Unapologetic Chinaperson]

Congressional Republicans reveal Obamacare repeal bill

April 9, 2017

Congressional Republicans unveiled a bill that would repeal most Obamacare provisions, including the individual mandate and many taxes imposed by the current law, as well as enact cuts to Medicaid. The bill, known as the Better Health Care Act or BHCA, the bill intents to make good on a long-awaited promise of the Republican Party to repeal Barack Obama’s signature health care initiative.

“Today Congress have taken the first steps in undoing Barack Obama’s disastrous health care bill,” said House Majority Leader Paul Ryan (R-WI). “Ever since its provisions have been implemented, we have seen massive amounts of spending at all levels of the health care system, rising premiums in many countries, and even outright dysfunction of the health care in some places. We need more health, not more government or more spending. And today, we have a solution to our health care crisis.”

Presidenti Donald Trump, who has campaigned on repealing Obamacare during his presidential run, has also been positive to the news. In a tweet, Trump wrote: “Obamacare SUCKED! This is better. It says it on the name: BETTER Health Care Act! Thank you Ryan!”

Though the Congressional Budget Office has not yet scored the recently-released bill, health care experts have expressed concerns that the bill’s passage will result in many people losing insurance. “You’re talking about hundreds of millions being cut from Medicaid, and millions of people losing insurance, either because they are no longer eligible for Medicaid or because they’re no longer able to afford insurance through the exchanges,” said Larry Levit, health policy expert at the Kaiser Family Foundation.

Democrat and liberal politicians immediately attacked the bill. “I haven’t seen it, mostly because they’ve only just released it after writing the bill in secret, but from what they’ve said this may be the worst bill I’ve ever seen introduced in Congress,” Sen. Bernie Sanders (I-VT) said in a press release about the bill. “I can only hope that the American people can rise and stand up to this monstrous attack on our nation’s sick and vulnerable.”

Related:
 - Spontaneous protests appear against newly-unveiled health care bill
 - Neil Gorsuch confirmed as Supreme Court justice
 - 36 injured in UC Berkeley clashes as Richard Spencer gives speech

[Unapologetic Chinaperson]

Ossoff, Handel to face off in Congressional race

April 18, 2017

Republican Karen Handel and Democrat Jon Ossoff will face off in the race to succeed former Rep. Tom Price as the next Representative of Georgia’s 6th Congressional District.

Ossoff, a filmmaker and former congressional aide, and Handel, the former Secretary of State of Georgia, respectively won about 48% and 20% of the total votes in the district’s jungle primary, in which all candidates from all political parties compete in. If no candidate wins an outright majority, which is the case here, the top two candidates will compete in a runoff election, scheduled on June 20.

After Price resigned from his seat after being confirmed as the secretary of the Department of Health and Human Services, Governor Nathan Deal called for the special election, as required by Georgia law. While Ossoff faced no serious opposition from other Democrats, Handel faced prominent Republican opponents such as former state senator Dan Moody and businessman Bob Gray.

The race has attracted enormous amounts of media attention. Donald Trump won the historically Republican district by only one percent in the 2016 elections. With an unpopular Republican president in the White House and a shift in college-educated suburban voters towards the Democratic Party, Democrats hope to flip this seat in a historic upset and rebuke Trump and his movement.

Related:
 - CBO score on BHCA: 14 million more uninsured, Medicaid cut by $800 billion
 - Kid Rock visits White House, hints at rumored Senate run
 - Pictures: First Family at the White House Easter Egg Roll

[Unapologetic Chinaperson]

Yay we passed 300 posts! Most of the next few will be story updates. Here's a hint of what they're going to be about:

[Unapologetic Chinaperson]

April 28, 2017 - JHU Homewood Campus, Baltimore, Maryland

The sky was blue, with intense streaks of red and orange as the sun began to set below the brick-and-white buildings that dotted the campus. White cirrus clouds danced across this technicolor canvas. On the surface, a light breeze blew, smelling sweet with flowers and fun as it blew through my hair, making it move like ocean hair. I took a deep breath. The air, as I expected, was crisp and fresh. Spring had finally arrived.

How appropriate that today was the first day of Spring Fair! Ah, Spring Fair. Every year, the university holds this carnival on campus, complete with food stands, rides, pop-up shops, petting zoos, and even a beer garden. The highlight of every Spring Fair is the concert that’ll happen tonight. Last year, we got the Chainsmokers, and nobody batted an eye. This year we’re getting Steve Aoki, and everybody’s losing their mind.

Each Spring Fair was our annual respite from a semester of exams and suffering. This year, it doubled up as a distraction from the orange buffoon sitting in the White House. But politics was neither here or there. This weekend, all we cared about was how to eat and have fun. As I watched my fellow students walk back and forth between the different stalls, holding chicken kabobs on one hand and liter-sized cups of juice in the other while chatting with each other, I smiled.

I realized that I never felt so good this semester. All semester long I was grinding out my twenty-one credits as I prepared to graduate, all while worrying about the future of this country. But Spring Fair was all about enjoying the simpler things in life. Fun. Food. Friends.

Right now, I was sitting at one of many wooden tables on the Freshman Quad with my senior friends, enjoying what was our last Spring Fair. On my right was Melissa Michova, my partner in crime for these four years, who was currently looking at her phone. Maybe she was reading from the electronic Quran Isaac sent her after she converted. I chuckled. I technically won the bet I made with him, as she did many of the Islamic practices for most of the semester, from reading the Quran to praying towards Mecca. She even showed up at a few of the JHU Muslim Association meetings. It was a good time, all things considered, even as she lapsed more and more as the semester wore on.

And speaking about Isaac, here he was, my friend and rival, sitting on the other side of the table while sipping on a cup of Pepsi that, according to him, was spiked with two shots of Svedka. He occasionally eyed at Melissa’s phone, maybe trying to figure out which of Allah’s words Melissa was internalizing this time. He was also smiling. He was kind like that, despite his sometimes gruff exterior.

Sitting to my left was a third friend of mine, Victor Pan. A lanky 22-year old Chinese international student, he also said nothing, just looking at the kids walking on the Freshman Quad. He didn’t talk much at all, in fact, especially with strangers. He was very smart though. One of the many biomedical engineering and comp-sci double majors at this school, nary a day went by where he wasn’t working in some lab doing some crazy sh**t. But hidden by this exterior of success and grit was a sensitive interior, one he only showed to friends like me.

Bored, I turned towards Victor. “I was your first American friend, was I?”

“I think so,” Victor said. “I think you were actually.”

“You only hung out with other international students before?”

He chuckled. “Only Chinese kids,” he said. “I don’t think I spoke to any of the Turkish students.”

“Hey,” Isaac said, looking up from his phone, “wasn’t I your first American friend?”

“That is completely wrong,” I said. “You’re like his tenth or twentieth American friend. I definitely introduced you to him, so I was first.”

“She’s right,” Victor said, smiling.

Isaac tried to think of a response when we noticed a pair of girls walking out of the Fresh Food Cafe (the main student cafeteria on this campus). I recognized one of them immediately: Amber, sporting her usual flame of hair dyed a deep shade of, er, amber. She was walking with her Georgetown friend, Deneb. Like the other kids walking around, they carried an air of carefreeness with them, as they should on this beautiful spring day. The two were holding hands; in their free hands, they carried cardboard to-go boxes, which I found strange, given the sheer abundance of good food today. It kind of made me sad, knowing that they chose to forgo the legendary “chicken on stick” or authentic North Carolina barbecue for more pedestrian fare.

In time, they noticed us sitting at the table. The two made a turn as climbed up the hill, smiling and waving as they reached the top.

“Hey what you guys been up to?” Amber said as she and Deneb put their boxes on our table.

“Oh, nothing,” I said. Isaac, on his side of the table, scooted a bit to the side to make room for the two freshmen.

“We’ve just been having fun in the sun,” Melissa said, tossing her hair. “What you’ve been doing?”

I interjected. “I see you got food,” I said, looking at their boxes quizzically.

“We didn’t want to wait in line,” Amber said. “Deneb here, this crazy girl wanted to try all the foods, but if you look around you can see why we chose otherwise.”

I did as she told and looked around. Even at this late hour, most of the stands had crazy-long lines. I felt sorry for the people who will be disappointed once the stands eventually close down for the night.

“I know,” Deneb said, pouting as she opened her box of food. “I wanted to try the chicken on a stick everyone’s been talking about.”

“Chicken on stick,” I corrected, “not chicken on a stick. The lack of the indefinite article makes a difference.”

“I don’t think there is,” Victor said, so quietly that I think only I could hear him. “I tried both and I think the chicken on a stick is better.”

Heretic, I thought.

“So anyways, hi I’m Deneb Luna and this is my friend Amber,” she said. “You might’ve seen her around campus - she’s very obvious - but you probably don’t know me since I’m from Georgetown.”

“Hi I remember you from DemCon!” Melissa said, smiling and putting her hand on my shoulder. “Do you remember me? I’m Melissa and this is my friend, President Crystal Sun!”

“Ha I remember both of you!” Deneb said, returning the favor with an even bigger smile. I felt that if you put both Deneb and Melissa in a room, that room will promptly explode. Good thing we were outside, where their energy was being absorbed by the cool air around us.

Deneb then turned towards Isaac. “What’s your name?” she asked.

“Hi, I’m Isaac Hassan,” he said, “nice to meet you. Are you both freshmen?”

“Yes,” Amber said, “we’re both freshmen. I go here and Deneb goes to Georgetown.”

“Ah nice,” Isaac said, “I know some friends who go there too.”

But I don’t think Deneb heard that though. Before Isaac could finish his sentence, she had turned her attention completely to Victor.

“What’s your name?” she said, almost startling Victor, who had tried to avoid the conversation by burying himself in his phone.

“V-Victor,” he stammered.

“Victor?” she said. “That’s such a cute name. Just like you. Do you know how cute you are?”

That threw me off. I turned to look at Victor, who was getting flustered. His cheeks were turning tomato-red. “Thanks?” he said weakly.

I then turned to look at Amber and Isaac, who were both looking at the scene with a combination of surprise and horror. Amber, at least, straightened her posture, as if to signal that she’s got this.

“Deneb,” she said, “I know that you think it’s flattering, but you can’t just go around and tell every Asian man you meet that he’s cute or hot or whatever.”

“I know,” Deneb said, “but...but okay.” She turned towards Victor. “Sorry for saying that.”

“It’s okay,” Victor said, smiling weakly yet still visibly flustered.

“But,” Deneb muttered, “I have to say, he does look like Big Bang’s G-Dragon.”

I couldn’t help but laugh inside, and I looked at Victor, trying to process what Deneb had said. I never thought about Victor looking like G-Dragon, the leader of the Korean boy band Big Bang. Curious, I took out my phone to compare and contrast the two faces.

Now that I was taking a closer look, I guess he had some facial features in common with the K-pop star. But to me, they still looked completely different. It was hard to square someone like Victor, a short and nerdy Chinese guy who spends all day in the library studying and coding, with the hip-hop-inspired gangster persona of G-Dragon.

“Oh no,” I heard Isaac say, shaking his head. “Not another Koreaboo.”

“What do you mean?” Amber asked.

Isaac pointed to me. “See this young woman? ARMY.”

Now I felt flustered, as he acknowledged my love for BTS with the term used to describe their fans.

He then pointed at Melissa. “See this girl? That girl had dragged this girl into the K-pop sinkhole and now she’s part of the ARMY. I tell you these kinds of people are everywhere on this campus. At this rate I bet some day BTS is gonna play at the Super Bowl.”

“And you’re not a fan of K-pop?” Amber asked.

“No,” he said, “I actually hate K-pop. No offense.”

“None taken,” I said plainly.

“I like music where I can understand the lyrics. That means American music. In my case, that also includes Egyptian pop music, but that’s just my upbringing.”

“You’re Egyptian, right?” Amber asked. “Interesting. I’m actually Korean myself, but I don’t listen to most kinds of K-pop. I’m more of an EDM person.”

Isaac’s angry face turned into a smile. “Yo, finally someone who shares my tastes. You’re going to the Steve Aoki concert tonight?”

“Hell yeah! It’s gonna be lit” Amber said as the two hi-fived each other. She then wrapped her right arm around Deneb. “That’s the whole reason why I’m bringing this girl with me.”

“Hey,” Deneb said.

“Listen,” Amber said matter-of-factly, “Steve Aoki is a living god, and I can still barely believe he’s performing for Spring Fair, and I’m not going to go the concert without my best friend.”

Deneb turned to the rest of the squad. “Yes, I am going thanks to her. Who else is going besides us and Isaac?”

“I’m not,” I said, “I have a lot of work to do tonight.”

“Twenty-one credits, betches,” Melissa piped up as she struck a pose.

“Hey,” I said to her.

“Damn,” Deneb said. “How ‘bout you, Melissa?”

“Couldn’t get a ticket,” Melissa said, sighing in resignation of her situation.

“And you Victor?”

Instead of saying anything, he hid his face. I couldn’t tell if he was about to laugh or cry.

“Are you going?”

He let out a barely audible peep. “Yes.”

“Yes!” Deneb said in a moment of excitement. I get to go to Ram’s Head with G-Dragon, her face said. Isaac must’ve had a similar interpretation, since his resting angry face returned.

“Don’t worry,” Deneb said as she saw Isaac’s face. “You’re cool too.”

[Unapologetic Chinaperson]

She paused for a few seconds as she tried to change the subject. “You’re all seniors right?”

“Yep,” I said.

“What are you going to do after graduation?”

I was a bit surprised that she didn’t ask for our majors first, but I replied anyways. “I’m starting my position at Google this summer. Guess who’s gonna be in Mountain View?”

“Wow congrats,” Deneb said.

“Thanks,” I replied.

“Plus,” Melissa said, chiming in for me again, “she’s going to be making bank off of Bitcoin.”

“Melissa,” I said, “I told you, it’s not Bitcoin, it’s Ethereum, and the rig I have is tiny. Just three graphics cards. I’m probably getting about a hundred a month from it if I’m lucky. It’s negligible compared to what I’m getting at Google.”

“Cool, cool,” Deneb said. “What are you going to do Melissa?”

“It’s going to be cool,” she said. “I’m going to be working as an aide to my Senator, Al Franken.”

“Omg you’re going into politics?” Deneb said, squealing. “That’s the type of stuff I wanna do!”

“Wait,” Isaac interjected, “I thought you were gonna work for Keith Ellison?”

“Eh, I wanted to, but that didn’t really work out,” she said. “But look on the bright side. Al Franken is still an amazingly progressive politician, and he’s my frickin Senator!”

“Can’t believe you’re doing political stuff,” Deneb said. “I’m actually going to be working with a politician myself. Me and Amber, both of us.”

“Oh, whom?” Melissa asked.

“Jon Ossoff,” Deneb said. “He’s a Democratic candidate for congress in the district we’re from. We’re both from the same suburb of Atlanta, we’re both from Georgia’s 6th district. We used to be represented by Tom Price, but after he was appointed HHS Secretary we had a special election, and now Ossoff is facing off against Republican Karen Handel for the position.”

“Jon Ossoff,” Isaac said quietly. I bet he was thinking of all the flaws such a Democrat could have.

“Yeah, that’s his name,” Deneb said. “I think he’s going to win. He’s young, he’s nerdy - big Star Wars fan - and he has all sorts of experience working in national security. He’s gonna be great.”

“Sure hope so,” Amber said quietly.

“And what about you?” Deneb said to Victor, turning towards him, smiling. “What are you going to do after graduation?”

Victor at first said nothing, but then let out a whisper.

“I don’t know, honestly, I don’t know.”

[Unapologetic Chinaperson]

* * *

I-83 Jones Falls Expressway, Baltimore, Maryland

My name is 盘凯心, Pan Kaixin. You can call me Victor, though.

It’s a fitting name to choose. In Chinese mythology, there was 盘古, whose body created the universe and the Earth. Then there was Victor Frankenstein, creator of the living from the dead. And now there is me, Victor Pan, a young man determined to create something of his own.

When I was admitted to Hopkins four years ago, my parents and I were ecstatic. I never thought that I, a Chinese international student, could even be admitted to one of the most selective schools in the United States. All the hard work I put in my childhood and teen years - the competition, the late nights studying, the college application process, the time and money my parents sacrificed - was worth it. I have achieved my goal, and now I was going to live it.

But when I arrived at Johns Hopkins, something changed. I felt lost. Everything was upside-down. I was in a new country at a new university starting a new life.

I had a goal to get here, but when that was done, what next? I could go back to China - lots of people are doing that, and hopefully my degree could still stand out against the flood of credentials back home. Or maybe I could stay here in the United States. But that seemed like an impossible dream. I knew nobody here, I kept myself secluded from the culture, and my English was never good enough.

I remembered my first roommate, a fellow international student from China. Despite the shared background, he was worlds away from me. A fuerdai, a member of the Chinese nouveau riche, he definitely had more money than me. I don’t remember what his parents did; I vaguely recall them being in real estate. Regardless, he went to Cholate, one of the best and most expensive private high schools in the United States. His parents owned mansions in both China and America, and he had both a Mercedes and a Chiron. As a result of spending his teen years in this country, he was a lot more Americanized than I was, which made me feel uncomfortable. Soon, we fell into a pattern. He went to parties and hung out with friends both Chinese and American. I stayed in our dorm, studying.

I didn’t make that many friends freshman and sophomore year. I talked to a couple other Chinese international students, who I could communicate comfortably with in our mother tongue. But even then making friends with them was hard; making friends with full-blooded Americans was impossible. It was no surprise that the first real American friend - Crystal Sun - happened to be Chinese as well.

From Crystal, I came to know Isaac, Melissa, and the rest of her gang. It wasn’t always smooth sailing. Many of them were very political, and I remember getting into multiple debates with them about my homeland, whether it’s about Taiwan, Tibet, or other aspects of China’s “atrocious human rights record.” Sometimes it still puzzles me about how they don’t get it. But I didn’t let politics get in the way of friendships. I wasn’t like that; I don’t consider myself political. Thanks to them, I did feel my English improving and my understanding of American culture deepening.

But there was still something missing. As much as they were my friends, they were also not. I see my “friends” hang out together without me, either because nobody told me or because I had to study. And for most of my four years here, I did the same things I did in China - study hard to become successful. No parties, no nothing, just books and code. For that reason, tonight’s Steve Aoki concert will be the first concert - Spring Fair or otherwise - I’ve ever been to.

The bus was packed as it left Homewood Campus. I sat by the window, with Isaac next to me. I could tell he didn’t feel like talking to me; the whole time he was listening to music on his phone. He was having a mini-concert before the main one. And it was good; I didn’t feel like talking either. Instead, I just wanted to look outside the window and see the city of Baltimore pass us by.

It was the greatest city in America, according to the benches. Yet whenever I ride the shuttle, almost always to go to the medical campus, or on the (very few) times I ventured out into the city, I am always struck by the poverty and inequality. Back in China, it felt like because America was so much richer than us, that Americans were all rich, similar to what people think about the Saudi Arabians or the Swiss. But that was clearly not true. If anything, Baltimore was similar to China - the poor next to the rich, with the beggars sitting by the businessmen.

The main difference, I guess, was about race. Back in China, almost everyone was Han, regardless if they were rich or poor. But here, you had the divide between the mostly-black residents and the mostly white and Asian Hopkins students. You even had it in Hopkins itself: black food workers and janitors working next to students who, by and large, didn’t look like them.

As we got onto the Interstate, I thought about Patricia Lea. She works at the Charles Street Market on campus as a cashier, starting when I was a sophomore. Like the others, they were always nice to the students. But I thought there was something special about Patricia. She always seemed extra nice. On the last day of sophomore year, I saw her phone on the counter facing up, with a picture of her with her kids. I asked about it.

“Oh, them?” she said. “They’re my darlings. That’s Kayla,” she pointed at the older-looking girl, “and that’s Layla.”

“You...you have beautiful daughters,” I said. My English still wasn’t that good, so I was super-nervous when complimenting her.

“Thank you young man,” Patricia said in the kindest way possible. I never felt so much warmth from a single person. “It’s not so easy raising such two little rambunctious girls, but they just bring me so much joy at the end of each day.”

I felt tears forming in my eyes as I recalled her saying that. I was interrupted, however, by Isaac’s voice, which carried the opposite tone. Blunt and direct, as he often was.

“We’re here,” he said to me as he put away his earbuds, “time to get off.”

[Unapologetic Chinaperson]

* * *

Rams Head Live!, Baltimore, Maryland

This was the most crowded place I’ve ever been in life. And I’ve been in many crowded situations. Just a few minutes in the concert hall and the air smelled of sweat. Soon the stench of beer and weed joined in. Movement was absolutely impossible in this environment, where I was being crushed by a deluge of thousands upon thousands trying to move to the front.

I was following Isaac as the two of us tried to make it to the front of the hall, closer to the stage. But predictably enough, I lost him. I was alone in a sea of people. I didn’t know anyone around me.

But I didn’t need to. Soon enough, the concert started. As the beats of A$AP Ferg and, soon enough, Steve Aoki, rocked the hall. Everybody started jumping up and down, dancing to their heart's’ content. I looked around to the best of my ability, trying to prevent myself from being choked by everyone’s bodies. In front of me, for a single moment, there was a couple kissing; the guy had torn off his shirt and was only wearing a pair of jeans, while the girl had a sweaty pink tank top on that barely covered her. I kind of felt jealous of them; they were this couple that loved each other very much, while I was here dancing alone.

But I didn’t have much time to think about that. One second there were there; the next second they had been replaced by a group of boys wearing fraternity gear and holding vape pens, blowing ghosts of gray-white smoke into a room full of life. Then they were replaced.

This was how the cycle went, and as the night wore on I felt more philosophical about the situation. One person or group moved in as the other moved out. One appeared in my life, and the other disappeared. It was life itself, forever transient, tiny specks of dust in this cosmic ocean.

“Hey,” I heard someone say. I turned around and saw this blond dude in a white - what did you call them? - wifebeater holding two red Solo cups. He drank out of one and handed me the other. “Wanna sip? Natty Bo with some Fireball mixed in. I got more where this came from.”

“Uh, thanks?” I said as I accepted the cup.

Without much thought, I downed half of it in one go. The guy who handed me the cup looked surprised, even slightly impressed. “Wow,” he said.

I also felt impressed. I never thought I’d drink so much. I guess it was to make up for the years that I repressed myself. I felt happy for a moment, until I took a step back, when I heard a soft crack followed by a feeling of stickiness under the bottom of my shoe. I had stepped on the Solo cup.

Out of the corner of my eye, way behind the guy, I saw a tuff of blond hair that put his locks to shame. I knew I found Amber. I was slightly hesitant to wave to them, but with the alcohol kicking in I pivoted on the beer puddle and waved both my arms in the air. The rest of the drink fell behind me in a big splash.

Amber didn’t notice me at first, but Deneb, who was dancing next to her, did. Very eagerly, she waved back and started dragging Amber through the crowd. As they got closer, I heard her chants of “Victor! Victor” grow louder. At first I could barely discern them under the boom-boom of Steve Aoki’s EDM beats, but soon they sounded as clear as day.

“Oh my goodddd!” Deneb said as she hugged me. Her hair was messy and her face was red. She had beer stains on her red tank top, and I saw that some of it even spilled onto Amber’s Spring Fair t-shirt. “I can’t believe I’m seeing you!”

I didn’t know what to say, or what to do, other than hugging Deneb back in return. I felt her heartbeat, her body rising up and down with each breath as we squeezed each other. Looking at her under the neon lights. Her eyes shone like gemstones and her hair shimmer like ocean water.

She smiled. “Wanna dance?”

Normally I would hesitate, but here I didn’t. “Sure.”

And we danced the night away. Soon, it was just the two of us, having fun as the rest of the crowd melted away into the background and their screams became one with the music. As Steve Aoki pumped up the beats and dropped the bass multiple times, our feet kept moving and our arms kept swinging. We sometimes held hands, sometimes spinning around each other. Everything melted into a blur of electronica. Time itself seemed to lose meaning. Music was all that was left, that and the pure joy that came along with it.

For a long while, Amber her disappeared, but then she returned, her cupcake hair disheveled and caked with sweat and alcohol. I saw her holding two cups of vodka in her hands. I wonder where she got the drinks. Maybe from the blond guy? I didn’t know.

“Want some?” she asked.

“Sure,” Deneb said, gently grabbing one of the cups from her friend, and then the other cup. She turned towards me. “You want one?”

I did want one, but I felt queasy. A lot, actually, I just realized. My stomach felt on fire. My face felt warm. Maybe it was the Asian flush everyone kept talking about. Most people I knew back home drink enough to get used to it, but since I never drunk, the flush must’ve hit with full force.

“Victor?”

As Deneb spoke, things started blurring into a haze. My arms were sore and my legs had become jelly. Reality left me, as the music and madness blurred into a rainbow-colored mush, until I fell and everything became nothing.

[Unapologetic Chinaperson]

* * *

The next thing I remembered was being in the bathroom. I found myself hunched over the toilet with my face hovering just centimeters over the water. The water was filled with a yellowish liquid that reeked of acid and alcohol - my vomit. I could hear the shrieks of thousands of people from outside, but they were drowned out by the sound of my own breathing. In, out, in, out, my lungs were heaving as I tried to make sense of everything.

I felt a warm hand gently patting my back as I struggled to bring up the final bits of vomit out of my esophagus. I couldn’t turn around and see; my body was fixed in this hunching position, with every muscle refusing to move from its place. The bright fluorescent lights created a whole different world from the dark cave of the concert hall, so I was completely blind anyways, as if I stared into the sun.

But I knew whose hand it was. It was Deneb’s. I realized that as I was blacking out, she had brought me to the bathroom to clear out my system. Then an important question appeared in my head - was I in the women’s room?

That did not concern Deneb. “There there, you vomited a lot already.”

I struggled to form words. “I...I sure d-did,” I said.

“Do you feel better now?”

“Y-yes,” I said, heavily breathing. I still felt the next round of vomit about to come up from my stomach. Trembling, I tried to stand up a little, but I didn’t get up all the way, fearing that I would slip and fall face-first in the toilet bowl. Deneb saw this and held me from under my belly, as she tried to help me get up.

“Geez, for someone like you you’re so heavy,” she said as she tried to prop me against the wall of the toilet stall. I ended up leaning against the graffiti-covered wall, and she ended up supporting her entire body weight against me. Nearly upright, I could see Deneb’s face under the bathroom lights. Her cheeks were red, and her face was glowing and sweating profusely. Her fiery auburn hair was neatly organized into a ponytail just earlier today, but was now all over the place, disheveled and messy. Some of her hair was blowing in my face, tickling me. Her body and her clothes were all covered in sweat, and she was nearly shaking from the stress of supporting me.

I didn’t know how to thank Deneb for her monumental effort to save me. “Thanks,” I said meekly.

“You’re welcome,” she replied, struggling to form a smile. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I don’t know if you can call me okay,” I said. My legs still felt like jelly, the world still seemed to spin around my head, and the vomit was coming any minute now.

She laughed. “You’re probably in better shape than I am,” she said.

“I don’t think so,” I said. “How much did I drink even?”

“I only remember you having that one cup,” she said. “You didn’t drink the cup Amber gave you. I don’t know what that guy put into your cup. He said there was Fireball in it, right?”

“Yes, and I drank it all down.” I said, breathing between each word.

“Wow,” Deneb said. “Drinking so much of that stuff in one sitting. Nobody could do that.”

“Don’t worry, I’m fine,” I said.

“Are you? You looked like you were going to collapse again.”

“I actually feel better.” I did, slightly. The vomiting had gotten rid of the burning sensation from my stomach, and slowly but surely I regained my footing on the slippery bathroom floor. Even the temptation to vomit again.

As I steadied myself, the two of us stood there, just looking at each other.

“You’re so extra, you know this?” said Deneb.

I stood frozen for a second, not knowing what to say, when she stepped in again. “And you’re still cute, even when you’re like this.”

I am? I probably looked even worse than Deneb. But I didn’t care. I was flattered. “Thanks,” I said again.

She took one step towards me and moved her hands across my body, until they once again formed a hug, and I felt the warmth of her skin against my own. “You know, I know we only knew each other for a few hours now,” she whispered in my ear, “but this time I felt something special.”

“Special?” I asked. “What do you mean?”

“I dunno, love?”

“Love?” I said. I felt dizzy. Is this love? I’ve never really been in love. Dating, getting a girlfriend, all that kind of stuff - all that felt beyond me my whole life. My life was all about studying and success, not about sex and love.

But studying and success only got me so far in life. Now was a different moment. I was with this girl, this girl who called me cute, danced with me, and helped me in my time of greatest need. She was kind, and she was lovely. But I didn’t know what to do.

She did, however. “So we’re in this bathroom stall together,” she said, “and nobody else is here.” Her eyes darted around before they came back to me. “Wanna kiss?”

I really didn’t know what to say to this. But I looked at her, and inside me I felt something as well.

Could this be love?

“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” she said, remembering about all the lessons we had about asking for consent. “We can go home, or if you want go back to party, or - I dunno, anything really.”

“No,” I said, “I feel something.”

“Feel what?”

I didn’t want to say it, but I had to. “Love.”

“Love?”

“Love.”

She chuckled. “That’s funny. Love at first sight is usually something that happens in a fairy tale.”

“Maybe this is our fairy tale.”

“Maybe.”

“And you know what they always do in fairy tales?”

“What?”

“Kiss.”

And so I brought my lips to hers, and she brought her lips to mine. It was exhilarating, as we shared our warmth with each other and kneaded each others’ faces. I smelled her rose perfume and her sweat, and she smelled the acrid taste of my vomit. In this tiny bathroom stall, in this way-too-small concert hall in this tiny city in America, spinning on the third planet of an insignificant star in a mediocre corner of the galaxy, one of many trillions in the universe, it was just the two of us.

This is love.

In the middle of this, the stall door slammed open.

“Yooo I just got caked by Steve- wait, what?” The two of us turned around and saw Amber, her face red and hair messy under a layer of white icing and chocolate cake.

“Uh,” Amber said, visibly embarrassed, “I’ll see myself out.”