Addison decided to take the long way home, through the forest. She ran into Xia punching a tree in anger. She saw Addison. She turned to her. “Stay away from me you ******!”, Xia said as she stepped back. “Oh, do I scare you?”, Addison said in a smug voice. “You don’t scare me!”, Xia said, straightening her posture. “Oh ok.”, Addison said in a sarcastic tone. “I bet I'm way more powerful than you! My magic element is one of the strongest ones there is.”, Xia said proudly. “And what is that, the element of insecurities?”, Addison said. “That's it, newbie! I challenge you to a battle! No wands. Just our own magic.”, Xia shouted. “Why would I waste my energy on you?”, Addison replied. “Oh, looks like somebody’s scared”, Xia snarked. “Fine. Only to shut you up.”, Addison said.

They walked to the restored training course. Addison dropped her wand and Xia did too. Xia shot a fireball towards Addison. Addison dodged it with ease. “Fainfol Istium!”, she said. “What’s that suppo-”, Xia started before she fell to the ground. “Somebody needs a nap.”, Addison said. She put her bag on her shoulder and started walking home.

When she opened the door, Gemma squeezed her. “How was your day? Was it ok? Did you make friends? What did you do? Did you learn anything new? Did you get in trouble?”, Gemma said quickly. “C-cant...b-breathe”, Addison said between gasps for air.  “Oh. Sorry, sorry”, Gemma apologized. Addison coughed then took a deep breath. “My day was actually not that bad. But I'm going to my room to take an eternal nap.”, Addison said as she wobbled up the stairs.

When they sat in her office, Tallora turned to Addison. “Miss Zodine. This is not the type of behavior we tolerate here at Trinity Academy. I order you to bring back Xia this instant!”, Tallora said. Addison sighed and recited the spell. “Amere Invictis Elovar”. Xia re-appeared in the office, with leaves in her reddish-brown hair. “Are you alright?”, Principal Tallora asked her. “No! This freak put me in a tree in the schoolyard!”, Xia said, furious. “Oh, I'm sorry...I meant to send you to a tree in the forbidden forest. Looks like my magic calibration is a bit off today.”, Addison remarked. “That is enough! You two young ladies are to apologize to Xia and then report to detention after school!”, Principal Tallora ordered. Leah was too afraid to defend herself, so she just put her head down in defeat. “Wait! Don’t punish her! I was the one who hexed Xia. Leah didn’t do anything.”, Addison said. “And why should I listen to you?”, Tallora asked. “I’ll go in for detention tomorrow and today.”, Addison said. “And, you’ll help with repairs to the training course.”, Tallora said. “Ok. Deal.”, Addison agreed.

When they walked out of her office, Xia rushed in the other direction. “Guess she won’t be bothering you for while”, Addison chuckled. “You know, You didn’t have to do that for me.”, Leah said in a quiet voice. “I didn’t have to. I wanted to.”, Addison replied. “But now you have to help repair the training course. There’s a lot of repairs to do.”, Leah said, concerned. “Oh, I'm not worried about that. I have to get to class. See ya later!”, Addison said as she walked to class.

After school, Addison was told to report to the training course. She walked onto
grass and heard a crunch. She looked down to see patches of singed grass and the trees were burnt. One of the janitors walked up to her. His face was covered in ash. “Animal keeping had a mishap with one of the dragons. Cut any burnt plants'', he said as he handed her hedge clippers. “They’re all burnt”, Addison said. “Wow, we have ourselves a genius here.”, he said sarcastically. Addison looked at all the work she had to do. She set down the hedge clippers. She pulled out her wand and said, “Revivaline Restoris”. The ash blew off the plants and the grass turned a bright green. The tree’s branches grew lush green foliage. The janitors just stood there in shock. Addison dusted herself off. “Are we done here? Ok, bye then.”, she said as she walked away.

Confucius- inequality is fundamental to humanity

Relationships of inequality
Parent-child
Elder-younger
Husband-wife
Ruler-minister
Friend-friend

Philoso­phy known as Ren

Household (Jia)
-patriarchal
-patrilineal
-having sons was the most important thing
-ancestor worship-having sons was essential for carrying on the family name and therefore honoring the ancestors
-partible inheritance- each son would inherit equal shares of the family wealth

Sage emperors –Yao, Shun, Yu- each passed on rule to the best man instead of their son
-Yu was the first emperor to form a dynasty with his son Xia after being asked by the people to do so, this is followed by the Shang and eventually by the Zhou dynasty
-all of this is essentially myth and the only thing that is actually known is that the Zhou dynasty existed.

Zhou Dynasty (1050-250 BCE)

Qin-Han (221 BCE- 220 CE)

Sui-Tang (587-907)

Command economy

Society order of rank-

-scholar-most valuable because they bring knowledge and order
-peasant-are higher than artisans because they actually create rather than manipulate
-artisan-higher than merchant because they at least contribute skilled work and goods
-merchant-the lowest rank because they only sell goods and do not contribute anything to society.



Three teachings

Confucism  

Daoism-a system created by a small group of elites in china. Accepted a kind a view of getting along in the world by essentially rolling with the punches. Became a sort of religion based on the texts of Laozi

Buddhism

Sui Dynasty (589-618)

Tang Dynasty  (618-907)

-Up until the tang dynasty nobody owned land besides the emperor. This changed after the tang dynasty was weakened. During this period salt became the new revenue stream for the empire. This allowed merchants to control certain areas of the market and become very wealthy.

Song Dynasty (960-1276)

Yaun Dynasty- Mongol dynasty- did not run china in a chinese way

Ming dynasty- return of chinese order, second peasant emperor Zhu yaunzhen, he distrusted the gentry and the bureaucracy as well as his revolutionary allies, he punished and executed many previously noble families inadvertently making room for many new families to gain prominence.

-boom in population and wealth lead to many families having the ability to educate their sons and participate in the examination system. The quotas however went unchanged which lead to a general dissatisfaction with the system.

-global climate change lead to high frequency of crop failure leading to famine and strife.

Wanli 1572-1619- had a long rule, which is known as the beginning of the decline of the Ming. During his reign china becomes more and more wealthy and with wealth comes decadence. When he dies he is followed by his son who dies soon after and then his grandson who has little interest in ruling and allows Wei ZhonXian, a ******, become the defacto ruler.  Meanwhile crops begin to fail around the country and epidemics soon follow. By the mid 1640’s things are falling apart for the Ming.

li Zicheng- Rebel leader, started as rider in the royal postal service, was fired and turned into a bandit eventually becoming a rebel leader and taking the city of Beijing and declaring himself as the head of a new dynasty.

-At the same time the Manchus are also beginning to take over militarily northeast of the great wall. They ally with one of the few remaining Chinese generals and take Beijing from Li Zicheng. This begins the Qing dynasty.

belgium? miniature mongolia. who on earth thinks that "other" europeans respect the belgians? no one respects these political quasimodo(s)... i'd love to think the belgians as the atlases of the world, but, to be honest, they're merely a quasimodo, rather than an atlas; there's no weight upon their shoulders, unless it's called a stack of paperwork that goes down the route of what all toiletry goes down the route of: wipe your ***, flush it down.*

you know what we call the belgians?
melkenjungfrauen týp - the milking virgins...
don't know: worth the giggle
though... the belgians were unspectacular
with football... the bulgarians were aiming
vegetarians: said die tomorrow,
better have said tonight.
and the last i.r.a bandit would 'ave
asked:
better the gaelic, than an i.r.a. crust...
give us an X...
the gaelic bird freed...
let us sleep past tomorrow...
              you want the "aristocrat":
death undue the xia of the living...
                    he was more an i.r.a.
slave he was, with a tickle...
              the milk virgins of
  tibet flatanned...
                                   care how the compass
fathoms gravity...
                and what belgium
could ever be...
                         the most grand
inquisition is that of:
of a terrorism teaching gaelic...
                  you can blow up lazily a pub...
but when you teach enough gaelic...
god forbid the opposite side
is mishandling saxon anglo-doo...
            the welsh have this immunity surrounding
them, sooner penetrate a tortoise than
a welshman, with his two puckers up
alphabetical F U of the langebogenmann...
                 milk a cow, wait for a dozen
belgians...
            it's right we call them the
milking virgins...
half-wit would be congoease...
            **** on me, even i find the kenyan
gals syropy, coconut oiled,
           shiny in moonlight...
      i hate the weather though...
                  but even brown they are aiming
at shining ivory in moonlight is shimmy...
       týp? type...
                      oh, sorry, i didn't realise
that the belgians spoke better english than
the english...
                      like i said:
perfect pride parade of
the milking virgins...
           gotta be gay to realise the plotline...
mind you, black girls are all coconut oiled
in moonlight...
     caramel, ivory, quickened ice-cream melt
of skin in lunar sheen...
      skin so smooth it leaves you itchy...
polite what?
     polite i turn to new york finicky piglet
of nine to five?!
      god, i love my woman,
ms. amber has never stalled, never failed,
never curtailed...
      and i can continue a
reminiscence of the baltic sea...
                    **** me...
the milking virgins...
               seems to me that i'm an offshoot of congo,
and kenya could be my second home,
why did the european "union"
  begin with the belgians?
   who the **** likes the belgians in europe?!
i don't like belgian choc, why would i like
belgian politics?!
                  it's too late to even state:
i don't know / i don't care...
like my father: i'd still prefer to see japan than
america...
                   **** happens...
              las vegas can remain a judea's sphere
worth of influence in the next decade to come...
some people actually mind
the monochromatism of a differentiated
assertive paradigm...
                           some people will actually
choose manga over disney...
                             the milking virgins...
     our ideas are so far apart, that they deserve
the geographic placement of being:
so far apart.
only the japanese are asiatic in euro:
with their protruding nasal cartilage -
                               in frame: lateral...
elsewhere? squishy asiatic central + south /
   african / missing lateral cartilage...
  so much for calling me short on
          the occipitale part of the cranium.

once upon a time i would look into the mirror
with a... curiosity of water...
sometimes i'd turn on the tap...
sometimes i'd block the plughole...
sometimes i looked at the "drowning" man
as a lake... sometimes as a river...
sometimes i'd come back with
concepts of time...
sometimes i'd come back with
concepts of: what if music didn't exist...
i'd cite no music at all...
but the comparison of the sound
of falling rain on a tin roof...
or on an umbrella... or in a heavily
leafy forest against the... snares...
   all that for a monotone crescendo...
that... if listened closely...
could spit out an A♯ and all the other
black notes...
                    that is, indeed, too intricate
and overbearing with detail...
but then a paragraph by Dickens really...
all those Victorian excuses for
keeping the language as cordial as possible...
never mind the archaic and obsolete
terms like... nearing celeriac...
yes... indeed...
                 ce-le-ri-ty:
                       swiftness...
etymology: via French celerite -
evidently from Latin: celeritas / -tatis...
                            celer (also latin): swift...
back to the mirror...
but only today...
      occupied by a mirror in a supermarket lift...
and all that could become about
from a trial and run period of...
the Chinese were never to be the Mongols...
there was never a horde... coming...
not from behind that wall...
not from under their overtly complex
ideograms that would be chewed and spat
out as nothing more than Li Po:
syllables: because... who the hell could
have heard of the concept of letters
in this Mars upon this Earth?
            that they: SHua and SHea
and CHow a lot...
                           or... this is what Ezra Pound
could have forgotten...
     ยิ้ม (which is in thai... yummy yim...
because of beijing and ****)...
                     wei-xia(o) - better in cantonese...
mei-siu...
             :) when borrowing
egyptian hierogylphs to steal some owl,
sparrow... cenobite from the chinese...
it's almost staggering how they didn't conjure
up pyramids of architecture...
instead: just a plain ******* roof...
this is a dog: こう
                   yep... here's the dog: 구
and here's the barking: woof woof! ワン

you're telling me... that the chinese could...
become the sort of empire the mongols
carved out?
and how long... before they could...
start breeding their slaves and lackeys...
who could understand them...
or read what they would have to necessarily
write?
         looks pretty in that mandarin...
but back in latin: gou... jugou...
              it's not like they could... or would...
because infiltrating this labyrinth of:
and only coming back with the primitive
latin of lady gaga... all those strokes for a syllable
and no letter...
there much be a dictionary of strokes...
an Ab - Ba
             Ac - Ca - but not really...
                  just in case anyone might need
to be reminded: Xi Lo and Li Po and Xi Jinping...
there is gold in the yellow river...

anyways... i ramble on like any self-respecting
european does: the power of perception
and the subsequent fictions / narratives...
just as important as the facts... of geometric rigour...
anything outside their realm is
either fake news or equal to the Valentinian heresy...

you can't move this sort of a literary
backage and turn it into a body of water of men
and horses bows and arrows and steel...
not with those sort of phonetic encoding...
which is why... the Mongols are currently
resurfancing with their old alphabet...
i dare say i can't imagine what it could
possibly look like... not the sort of crude
Thai... when compared to the genius-head
of mandarin, by comparison?
                 but if you're trying to... "wage war"...
and all you have is...
the proverb: the chinese would merely
have to march to conquer us...
you wouldn't even have enoug bullets...

        well then... atomic bombs are crescendo
pieces... they don't really sell more guns...
just brooms, shovels, bricks and cement...
and a hunger for licking eternal shadows
of the eternal sun of boom...

a minor haitus from mammalian pride...
   this little gremlin has learned the oldest
trick in the book...
   it will mutate and probably not evolve
to gain a proper mouth with teeth
and a tongue... or a leverage of a limb...
but all that cosmopolitan pride: mammalian...
the graces of writing a letter...
the bestowed angelic choir when wining
and dining...
the virus... and the bottleneck pressure
of the hive...
   the glorious mammal... having to...
look more closely at the little gremlin...
i see no symptom: of lilac mushrooms growing
out from under armpits and between toes
filled with killer toxic ****...
     the ant, the former ape...
the hive...

                           you are most certainly
a mammal and ape and all that comes with
darwinistic ideology...
but... smell it? it's not fear... it's not panic...
it's: a precautionary lullaby...
i agree: it's not quiet a hive...
a hive is a concentration of gravity...
this is still but a herd... much difference
to be grasped: between a herd...
and a hive...

                a herd might as well roam...
a hive: nests...
sending out its most potent examples to ward
of intruders...

   or there are two languages: there's the formal
and the informal...
but there's also all that beauty in...
what's to be said: readied for rhetoric...
and one to be: thought about...
                      theta-omicron-upsilon-gamma"eta"tau...
clearly there's no borderline number
of a letter of spelling that's a H(atch) in
greek... less so when is comes to ψ
and the passive π  with an otherwise silverback
"alpha male" of... "sickly steve": σ...
old as a solipsistic **** (the grateful dead...
st. stephen)...

    or if i were chinese... i wouldn't really require...
the distinction...
since... i'd have to burden myself with
the tools akin to chopsticks... or if i was really...
really sadistic... and tiger mommy...
two toothpicks and a mountain of dry rice...
to... allign into a straight line...
take your pick!

but it must be the hong kong fashionista trend...
it must be... wearing surgical masks...
when... going "shopping" for some woodchips
and whiskey?
i'm giving my hands a baptism in the earth...
i'm gardening... spring cleaning of the house
has taken... extreme... transcendent meanings...
but at least i'm not doing what was
otherwise done: doughnuts and blockjobs
and netflix binging...

mind you: i must have been deserving to...
finally get around to reading some Dickens...
this is not a parody...
a parody would be...
            Mabel - don't call me up...
singing live at the Brit awards...
              and the most important vestige of
anything that matters happened today...
two crows were foraging the lawn for
an equivalent of carboot oddities...
the odd twing 'ere... the odd twing v'er...
ever wonder why...
you will never see crows...
fill the whole scene with a sense of ****?
all the time... the ***** pigeons...
was good sure... that those feathers shouldn't
come off and the niqab should be attired?

i too am waiting for a miracle...
a muslim woman wearing a niqab all in white...
then again... where's my imagination...
concerning ******* gloryholes and
b.d.s.m. thrills! michael jackson's: ye-he!
yes... no lasso with that plump iceberg of
juicy beef... but it's there for the taking...

and that i drink... of course... that 35cl shot is...
there's more need for spontaneity than rhyme...
all this is hardly my kind work of edit...
where is rhyme in either frank o'hara or charles
bukowski...
it's not even waiting for a hint of inspiration...
it's: chicken scratches... and scratches...
and then... wow!
magic... a rhyming couplet at worst!

allure of last night...
    i can clarify...
                   i'm less enchanted by a fear of the "evil"
man... at there's a purpose and foremestly: a resolve
involved...
   a chaotic purpose of will...
which... even if the evil deed is willed...
is suddenly dispersed into the realm of phenomena
and chance and gambling and...
"darwinism"...
       the truly man can be forgiven...
in tha consequences of what comes...
alongside the arbitrary...
         but this leeching middle-man...
              the "fox"...
                     the ***** hands that forget
to sense a mind for a worth of soap...
  the peculiar mundaneity of horror bound
to the everyday scrupules of:
keeping up expectations...
that worst form of acting: lying without gravitas...
and a stage... and a purposively alligned
audience for the part... always prescripted for
the awaiting encore galore!
                   3rd party associates of evil...
the evil that simply... "asleep" or... "associated with"...
that sort of *******...
just shreds... the hopes of Cain seeking redemption
as a nomad... hostile: outcast...
just like his father... Adam...
              
                 Adam was cast out...
Cain bit the second apple of Abel... blah blah...
simple arithmetic of images...
the ***** of Siberia: one might conjure up...
with the devil's dozen of wolves of Blagoveshchensky
district...

yes... and at this point in time:
rather than history... history will always provide
the allure of studying human affairs...
time: like... fire... like water...
like earth and its geology...
   is the... given that lightning is the...
allure of the Faraday's fire... blitz-krieg...
me this language and a happy family!
ha! ah ha ha!
me this language and... peacocking in
a nightclub... out-takes from a *****-flick...
one *****-stars playfully ****-gags another...
the one being gagged is responsive
to the joke that begins and ends with...
the punchline... an oasis of the vernacular:
BA-NA-NA...
           toast! here's to me trying my rupture
of an artery in the phallax formation
with an ingestion of some...
spandex ballet... a ****** and a bass woo
of a barry white...

       like: "oops" was supposed to presuppose
the grand event of... the big bang...
"bang" a concept so devoid of meaning
when being introduced to a vacuum of... time
has to be an element... akin to fire...
akin to water... air and earth...
and... Prometheus didn't exactly steal...
a lightnig bolt... did he?
he didn't exactly steal an atom heatwave from
Chernobyll... did he?

- but only now...
              time... mythology: too much time has
passed... and there's a geological layering
of furthering the will of man...
and the recycling of paper...
time... history: bookworms more or less:
"there"...
time... journalism...
                and the self-employed free agents
of time... "poo'ets"...
               at least...
what "standing out of" all time... and space?
time i can can understand...
but space?
here's me standing outside of all space:
a bullet-point...                                           ).(
   and (.)           ****... how about...
the exclamation marker                               !
or the question mark                 ?
sure as ****... these would require the "diacritical"
mark of distinction more than
i which is already an I so can be ı
j which is already a J so can be ȷ
but the ! and ?
                            well...

mirror mirror on the wall... poor sam...
      Dickens would have someone swap
their Vs for the Ws and vice versa...
             if it wasn't poor Sam... the shoe-shiner...
and some other vague shadow personage...
but let's assume i have an IQ of 100+ and
i can keep up with a victorian text...
for this poor some swapping his Vs for his Ws...
comes up with... a breakdance of...
latin via: amicus curiae and...
                ad captandum...
            standing outside of all time... and space...
looks like heidegger's hammer
had a precursor...
     a shoeshiner had all these...
maxim prefixed readily available rhetorical pivots...
to shut people up: if they were being
too... "inquisitive"...
well outside of time... hardly...
if there are pockets of space that are somehow
synonyms with each other...
and that before time is given a linear: "forwrd"
it has a period of: "jumping" to-and-fro...
of being glued and at the same time
wanting to be... glued in a diluted sense
of the word...

it must be a Hong Kong catwalk summary...
before long i was much younger...
20 (circa)... now that i'm 30 (circa)...
and there's this surgical mask hiding my face
but still exposing the beard and the puffy rinds
that do encrust the eyes to peep...
well...

it had to become apparent...
the old curiosity of water is... driftwood...
now i stand before the mirror and
puncture the skin for the long "lost" embryos
of Beelzebub's jist: jazz: jizzom...
cuckload of fly ***** of maggot on my face
in the form of acne...
           there was once the sort of inquiry
an antonym of my specimen could share with me...
and be attracted to...
now i use the mirror for only one purpose...
hardly me about to romance a vampire
and... "disappear"...
but the surgical mask helps...
i don't see a quasimodo...
i see a furnace of a Frankenstein's adam
with pupils of coal and an iris of fire
to peer at and with...

                            whatever a god might have
cursed me with... i'll add salt...
then i'll add the vinegar...
  then i'll sprinkle some sand on the "wounds"...
and later call it:
the crackle of cement before the moans
of mud...
            
***** pigeons... always with the ***** pigeons...
it ends with ***** pigeons...
and of all of them... the spectacle of being
rejected...
i'm guessing... the clarity of rook morality...
being akin to the morality / NOBILITY
of swans...
                 since you will not see them...
eagerly displace their courtship... in the plain sight
of day...
    the rook and the swan...
will you ever see the nightly troubles of keeping...
a... vested interest in surrogate motherhood...
in surrogate fatherhood...
in the widower swan?

                                        as fallen as i am...
there are most certainly more noble creatures
abiding in my exfoliating noun terminology of verbs:
like attaining the halo of a manicure...
rather than... random beating with a beak
a... clue to how wings do not translate as arms...
oh that perpetual hunchback of:
grace with flight... but bowing before every step
of a walk... that man admires the flight of birds...
but cannot see... all... well...
who cannot excuse the jitters of hopping sparrows...
the gift of flight... but being humbled when curious
about nails... gravity... and earth and... rotations...
of heliocentric grandeours!

language: otherwise known as the swedish banquet
table for peacocks... baboons and...
lipsynch.      parrots! joe wooden leg in tow!
joe wooden leg... bartanblondine was asking for a
"whittle talk" with a barbarossa...

just saying.