TEDxSUU

If you don't know what TED is, stop right now and go here. Take some time, explore. Watch this one, it's my favorite. Pure brilliance.

Okay, now that you are familiar with TED, I want to familiarize you with their new brain-child, TEDx. These are independently organized events that are now recognized by TED. Check this out. See yours truly?

Yesterday, my friend Whitnee and I drove down to Cedar City to attend TEDxSUU. This is like our brain-child, growing up. We were in the first class to produce this conference (see the Fall 2007 video on the aforementioned page). And last night, I was invited down as an alumna speaker.

The theme of TED is "Ideas Worth Spreading" and this was an idea shared by TEDxSUU. A handful of students from the class were selected to present a shortened version of the presentation. There were also videos played from TED. Check out this one--so good. The students shared ideas about wildlife preservation, the societal concepts of maturity, and the use of color in our perceptions of language, mathematice, and the world at large. There were artistic performances, which were a new addition that I particularly liked.

But at the end of the student speakers, it was my turn. I only had a few minutes--not nearly long enough to give true scope to what I wanted to say. But the point I wanted to make to these fledgling Honors students was about passion. We live in a society of sheep. There is a flock, and everybody wants to be part of the flock, and the flock wants everybody to be part of it. You might want to be a pretty sheep, or a smart sheep, but you are still a sheep. If you venture too far, the flock says no, don't go there, its dangerous. It's not cool. It's lonely. We are discouraged from venturing out from the norm--set by our arbitrary society. People who live outside those bounds are criticized, stigmatized. But the flock remains caught in nothing greater than mediocrity.

The Honors program was always about passion to me. So many people go to college for the degree. They do just enough to get by, to endure until they get handed that paper that tells them they accomplished something. But there is so much potential for more. And not just in school--I want to have an Honors life. It's not just about skating by, doing just enough. There is a deeper, more fulfilling experience to be had.

Too often we are limited by expectations put upon us. In college, you have expectations set by teachers. To pass this class, you must do these things. And so we do those things. In life, we are set expectations by peers, by family, by religion or politics, by employers. All these expectations that we are set to meet. But those expectations actually limit our capacity. If the bar is set here, then we only try to reach here.

We can reset the expectations. We can set our own expectations, and set them far higher than what anybody else can set for us. It might not be cool. People might not accept it--how many times are we told to lower our expectations, because we can't possibly achieve our dreams? But we CAN! By raising the expectations we have for ourselves, we raise our capacity to achieve them. And we never know what new interests and passions and dreams we will discover along the way.

Let's try not to be sheep. Let's try to leave the flock of others' expectations. Let's venture out into this great big world with our eyes and minds open for new ideas. And we can share our own--ideas worth spreading.

9/11

When I got to school that morning, the first tower had already been struck.

I didn't know what the World Trade Center was. I wasn't familiar with that silhouette against the Manhattan skyline. When I first saw the smoking building, I did not understand what had happened, or why it was important.

I was in my 10th grade US History class, and I watched live as the second plan flew out of nowhere to hit the second tower. I watched live as the towers fell.

The TV stayed on all day long. No one could think, could function. Some teachers tried to press on with classes. Some just watched the TV right along with us.

We were all messed up that day. Some were in tears. Some just watched with blank stares, uncomprehending. The day seemed unending. The twin towers. The Pentagon. Flight 93. The conspiracy theories, the cries of anger and devasation mingled together with such a grave sense of loss that none of us could fully encompass. We were all together that day, all of us, all Americans and so many others across the globe. There hasn't been anything else like it in our lifetime.

Some call it our Pearl Harbor. Except, our nation didn't watch the Pearl Harbor bombings live in color. I wasn't in NYC that day, but I still lived through it. We all lived through it together.

I hope it doesn't take this kind of disaster for us to unite like we did that day, that year. We still need that togetherness, but in the intervening years it has faded. Hopefully today, on this memorial, we'll be able to recapture the unity we once shared in the face of devastation.

Google Docs: A tool for co-writing

I've never really used Google Docs before. I've heard about it, here and there. But I simply have never possessed a need for it. I had Box.net for online storage, where I don't just use my wonderful Gmail account. But then I heard about file sharing.

My friends, this is not just storage. That's what I thought I was dealing with. I have a file, I save it on Google Docs, and then someone else I invite to share can also look at said saved document. And realistically, I could have simply done this through my Box.

But its better. So far beyond better, it's in an entirely different realm. It went from "oh, that's cool" realm straight up to, "THIS IS FREAKING AMAZING" realm.

It's live file sharing. Every time it saves the document, the text gets updated for all the users, simultaneously. And it auto-saves about every five seconds. You can literally be working on the same document simultaneously.

Do you see the potential?

My friend Sam and I are working on a new project, something we've been brainstorming for many weeks now. We have finally started writing. So in an effort to improve our co-authorship, I decided to check out Google Docs.

We can literally co-write. As I write, the text automatically updates itself on Sam's computer, and vice versa. We can make instantaneous corrections and changes. We can compare notes and work from the same set of written brainstorming. THIS IS FREAKING AMAZING.

Ladies and gentlemen, the muse has descended. Please excuse me while I join Google for some much-needed writing time. Ciao!

Infinite possibility

Today I got involved in a rather lengthy debate with my friend Michael. First it was about changing tables, but we won't even go there. (Except to say that men obviously just don't understand the value of changing tables.) We then began discussing what Michael calls 'ubiquitous computing' which implies, in his words, "that computers are universal and inside everything. Stoplights, cellphones, everything. Soon they'll be in our sunglasses." The discussion led to journalism and then to books, and my shared fear that books and print media in general will eventually become obsolete.

We continued to discuss the future of the printed book, and how dynamic books of digital paper may be the eventual replacement. A person would own a handful of digital books which would hold the same physical feel as books now, with their then digital, varied contents. Digital paper is already in the making, and Michael believes it is a near-future possibility.

According to our theory, books would then become something of a collector's item. Rich people might have bookshelves and libraries, or others would possess them out of the mild obsession of a collector. Handmade books might make a return at this point as an art form and novelty. Something like how people now collect records, but the mainstream society uses CDs and MP3. Although, books would still maintain functionality and a certain practical value, as opposed to owning them for the sake of possession, as in the case of records. They would simply not be part of the mainstream society.

Our conversation concluded as follows, and this is what I most wanted to share:

Michael: So only rich people and enthusiasts would buy them, but they would still be bought and loved.
How many things can that be said of when we talk about the ridiculously distant future?
I think that says a lot about how deeply books are ingrained in the heart of society.


Valerie: According to the views of you and me, at any rate.


Michael: But didn't you know Valerie? We're the ones who get to decide the future.

And this, my friends, is the pure and simple truth. We are the ones who get to decide the future. It is our actions here and now that decide what is important for the next generation, and affect the ones after that. This is our time, and I intend the make the most of it.

That's all. Have a great Thanksgiving! Eat some turkey, give some thanks, and think a few profound thoughts when you have a spare moment.

Catharsis

Today has really sucked at work. We lost a HUGE account yesterday, and it was in big part me and my coworker's fault, and we got not only a critical email from the CEO, but also had to go in and have a meeting with him about what we can change and do better in the future. In addition, it's been declared a Stupid People Day. We have one every couple of weeks, when it seems that all of the most concentratedly stupid people decide they all need to call in on the same day and make us miserable.

And so today I find myself drinking Dr. Shasta (which is in no way an acceptable replacement for Dr. Pepper, but is provided by the company for my consumption, so I can't really complain), and listening to my new cathartic treatment: a dose of symphonicky metal with female and other interesting vocalists. ie Nightwish (which happens to be a favorite of my pops), Within Temptation, Evanescence, and even a little bit of DragonForce (the song I really like of theirs being, of course, "Through the Fire and Flames". All the others sound the same.) God bless Pandora!

I'm also trying to work on my novel, but one of my protagonists is putting me through hell, and I don't know what to do with him. So if anybody has any random thoughts concerning my tremulous plotline, I would certainly appreciate them. You wouldn't believe from what I can pull my muse!

Newfound wonders of the Office Suite

Today I have a deep and abiding love and gratitude for Excel spreadsheets. I have to admit that this is the first time I have ever used Excel for such a purpose, and it is both new and different, as well as intriguing.

I now have an Excel spreadsheet outlining the plot structure for my novel.

Amazing, isn't it? The thing is, the story is told from three specific, rotating points of view, a la Elantris, and I was having trouble finding a way to keep track of the progression of that rotation. And voila--Excel.

Each of the three characters has a column, and each row represents a chapter--following downward is the progression of the novel. It's a little clumsy, and slightly less than artistic, but it gives me structure that I was sorely lacking.

But the best thing of all?
It's one in the morning, and the muse is with me strong tonight. For that, I will definitely take whatever I can get!

Descent of the muse

The strangest things sometimes can be the muse.

In almost every episode of House, he has a moment in which somebody says or does something which he somehow connects to the mystery of the case he's working on, somehow delivers his brilliant--and usually bizarre--solution. I call those moments his Muse. It's often Wilson, but it can be anything.

I've been in a strange mood all morning. I've been contemplating the lack of passion in my life. I watched our old TED video, from a time when I thought I could honestly conquer the world, anything I set my mind to. It really made me want to go back to college, to have my mind stretched that way again.

In the midst of my morning, I got onto the TED website and started exploring. I haven't been there for awhile, so there are plenty of new TED Talks to explore. I watched one by Clifford Stoll, I think his name was. Very entertaining. But then I stumbled upon a talk entitled "Where does creativity hide?" by novelist Amy Tan. I haven't felt the artistic stirrings so strongly in a long, long time. With the rain, some music, and TED, I have found my muse today. I'm ready for anything, and it's a great feeling.

I hope it keeps raining.

Pee funny!

Seriously, it's just one good thing after another! Check it out:

Things Younger than John McCain

Driving across America, listening to The Beatles

I think that most people don't realize how big this country is. I think we look at a map and comprehend the space in a moment, thinking that we live in a civilized place, when in reality there are huge wide open spaces all over it, untamed places where nothing lives but grass and weeds and deer and wandering cows. Places that stretch as far as the eye can see--again and again and again, with nothing in between but that road you're on, stretching out to the horizon.

I drove for about 11 hours today, and about the same yesterday. Today, I covered half of Nebraska, all of Iowa, and about half of Illinois. (Kearney, NE--Joliet, IL). Yesterday, I covered a corner of Utah, all of Wyoming, and that first half of Nebraska. Two days of driving, and I've covered four states. That's it. It doesn't seem like that much, when you look at a map. I look at Iowa on a map, and I think, "Wow, what a little dorky state full of cows." Driving across it, I think, "Wow, what a HUGE dorky state full of cows!"

And corn.
That's about all.
Seriously.

Today, I found a Barnes and Noble by accident (really! I was actually looking for a Wendys) and I bought "The Host" on CD, by Stephenie Meyer. I listened to "Twilight" yesterday, but after finishing it this morning, I decided I definitely needed another book to listen to. Neither of the bookstores I visited today (one in Omaha, one in Des Moines--which are HOURS apart, by the way) had the sequel, "New Moon", so I ended up getting her new SF novel, which I haven't read. I was nervous to listen to a book before reading it. I'm such a visual person, I wasn't sure it would be the same experience. I'm still sure that it's not, but I'm enjoying it all the same.

In between finishing Twilight and purchasing The Host, I also spent about an hour listening to The Beatles. I have decided--for the moment--that my favorite album is Abbey Road. This may change, but it's definitely my current fav. Although, I actually listened to the lyrics of "Maxwell's Silver Hammer" today, and was appalled! I should look them up and see what it really says, but I wouldn't be surprised if it is actually appalling. Silly Beatles.

I'm staying the night at a little motel in Joliet, Illinois, which is somewhat southwest of Chicago. It stands between the Motel 6, which looks like the Bates Motel, and the Comfort Inn, which only had 2-bed rooms that would cost me eighty bucks. I'm okay with this place, it's a little cheap, but clean and not too scary. The only real problem is that there's no refrigerator. This is a problem, because I am carting a cooler full of precious cargo 2000 miles across country.

Melissa (my best friend) burst out laughing when I told her the contents of my cooler. She said to me, "If you could know somebody by food, I would know it was you just from that." Apparently, these are "Valerie" foods:

-a large package of uncooked tortillas
-a 2-lb block of Colby Jack
-a six-pack of Dr. Pepper
-a carton of fresh strawberries

If you know me, you would probably agree with Melissa. Also, I'm carrying a small package of Cotija cheese--my uncle Laurence gave it to me when I stayed with him last night, to try on my quesadillas. Apparently it's a Mexican cheese something similar to mozzarella. It will probably be part of my dinner tomorrow--I have also brought along my all-powerful griddle, to assist in the making of my favorite food while in Pennsylvania, a place sadly scarce in Mexican food.

So tomorrow I continue onward in my journey. I have about 700 miles left to go, through more civilization than the last 1400 combined (I hope). I'm going to pass through Cleveland before turning up toward Erie. And I shall continue onward through The Host as well. I'm interested to see how it turns out.

Iron Man

One of the best superhero movies I've ever seen--and if you know me, you know I am a connoisseur of superhero movies. Good plot, good characters, good actors IN the good characters, and of course, supernatural special effects. Prolly going to be one of my favorite flicks of the summer. Go see it.

A Day's Work

Today, I wrote. I'm working on a piece of what I like to call "contemporary fantasy". A novel, perhaps even a children's novel, but we'll see.

I started writing my second chapter today--my kids' first day at school. Its rather a special school, so I wanted to serve up the details, but I'm not sold yet on what I accomplished. The chapter is very long, and it covers all their classes, but not in any kind of depth. I skim through each class, introducing the topic, the teacher, and in most cases a bit of dialogue. But I'm wondering whether it wouldn't be better to skim a bit more in some places and a bit less in others. But I guess that's what revision is for, eh?

Today I also created 41 new characters--other children at my school. There are about 100 all told, but these I created to reference at need. You would not believe how difficult it is to create, at whim, 40-odd people from nothing, and have them all be different and in some way unique, especially when applying rules of a not-quite-normal world. But there they are, and hopefully they get a bit more fleshed-out over the years.

Tomorrow I begin the third chapter, where we meet the fourth (of four) protagonists. I'm very excited. Today I established what might be my favorite character, but that remains to be seen. I love writing! These are my babies, my children of the present. I watch them grow day by day with great excitement.

Oh, and today I decided that even though I really don't like Temple of Doom, I still really like Harrison Ford, and that I'm really excited for #4. Oh, and I decided that I like David Cook after all. I didn't like him at first, but tonight I decided I like him. I still think Archuleta will win (simply because he has thousands of teeny-boppers AND the producers behind him), but I can also support the rock-star career of David Cook. We hope, anyway.

Transcending Ages

Today I would like to write about a specific element of popular culture:

Star Wars.

I have decided that Star Wars is a phenomenon. It transcends generations, along with the normal social and societal boundaries associated with cult fiction. Star Wars affects everybody--the old, the young, the popular and the nerdy, the intellectual and the oblivious. I can think of nothing else that does this--not Harry Potter (not yet, anyway), not Pirates, not even Lord of the Rings. In all those cases, somebody looks down on it, somebody criticizes, somebody snubs, and somebody takes it wildly out of control. Star Wars is different.

For example: My parents and I recently visited Disneyland. While there, we stopped to watch the "Jedi Academy" in Tomorrowland. It's a show, where "Jedi Masters" invite children of the audience to enter the Academy and learn the art of a lightsaber. It's a Kodak moment for the parents, of course, particularly when Darth Vader and Darth Maul enter the amphitheater with stormtroopers and duel with their kids. Perfectly charming.

However, my attention was drawn several times away from the stage and into the audience. The adults were enjoying this nearly as much as the kids--they certainly cheered for the Jedi, and booed and hissed the Sith, and were overjoyed when Yoda's overamplified voice echoed from the speakers overhead. One woman in particular was totally in the moment--in her sixties at least, she bowed to the Jedi as they came in, and theatrically cringed away from the Stormtroopers at their entrance. This proud grandmother did not seem the least bit abashed at her cultish behavior.

Furthermore, when my father and I sat down for a (nauseating) ride on Star Tours, the ride attendant (wearing a rather unfortunate bright-orange jumpsuit like Luke's X-wing flightsuit) wished us a good ride and said, of course, "And may the Force be with you." A woman behind me said then--and I quote--"I would give anything to wear an orange suit and say "May the Force be with you" to people and get paid for it!"

All I could think was, Yeah you'd enjoy it--the first five times. After that, I'm pretty sure the thrill would wear off.

My nephew Ben is just discovering Star Wars. He's five. You would not believe how many similar five-year-olds I saw running around California with toy lightsabers and padowan robes. Do you know how much they charge for those things? The robes--a cut-out piece of brown fabric that would rip if you looked at it funny--cost over fifty dollars. I don't know how much the toy lightsabers cost, but I imagine they are similarly astronomical. Star Wars is a money-making machine that will never die--no matter how terrible the new movies are.

What I'm forced to wonder is whether George Lucas had any idea what he was creating. I'm sure he claims some awe-inspiring vision of the future, but I imagine it was more an accident of fate. Our society needed inspiration, and the ham-handed filmmaker handed it to us with some cheap new tricks and some lucky finds on the acting side.

Speaking of which--Indy comes out in two weeks. I hope that it's good--it would be terrible to ruin the first three fifteen years after the fact!

"I spent a summer with Superman"

On my bulletin board, I have a small hot pink sticky note that reads "CNF piece: 'I spent the summer with Superman'". I think it's from the summer before last, but I can't really remember. It was the summer when my Superman obsession reached its peak--but more than that, it was the summer I felt the intoxicating power of my own independence for the first time.

At this very moment, my roommate Nat is in the front room watching "Superman Returns", which I so subtly left in the DVD player for her after she expressed interest in it last night. She'd never seen it before, and I was happy to oblige. I wish I wasn't moving so soon, so I could also spread the love of "Smallville" which Gregory and I shared so ardently last fall.

I make no small mention of the fact that I am addicted to Superman. I don't know why, I've never really been able to explain it. There are other comic book heroes who appeal more to my usual taste in fictional characters--Batman comes immediately to mind, with other lesser-known superheroes cropping up behind. I usually go for the torn, anti-hero type.

But there's just something about Superman. Maybe in this case it is his seeming innocence that appeals to me. That and I love watching powerful characters fail. Sadistic, eh? My favorite part of "Superman Returns" is his fight with Lex, and then when he returns to fight again. He fails, but he doesn't relent--as masochistic as it is, he goes back for more until the job is done. Only a superhero.

Have you ever noticed just how many 'powers' Superman actually has? We associate him with the power of flight, but that's only the beginning. To this day, I remember discussing Flight versus Invisibility in Dr. Peterson's English 2010 class my very first semester of college. Which would you rather have? This association with Superman is lacking, because that's all you get--just flight. No superstrength, etc. Have you ever noticed how much Spiderman bleeds in his movies? Even Bruce Wayne gets those nasty bruises. But Superman's only flaw is kryptonite (granted, it crops up a lot more than you might expect, especially in "Smallville"). He's got flight, strength, speed, super hearing and sight, he can knock down buildings with the power of his breath, and there's that heat vision, too. Not to mention to force of his good looks! Superman is the ultimate package deal. Is it any wonder I'm addicted?

The Power of YouTube

As I'm sure many of you can commiserate, I often find myself lost in the realms of Wikipedia and IMDB, the most fruitful wealths of useless information. Tonight, I ended up researching comic book villains, which led me inevitably to "The Dark Knight" (the "Batman Begins" sequel due out this summer.) I am a rather dedicated fan of Heath Ledger, so I'm particularly excited to see his last full film.

At any rate, after watching the trailer, I was trying to put my finger on something--another trailer I knew I had seen somewhere. It was essentially the opening sequence of the film, where the Joker pulls off an elaborate bank robbery. After a little more Wiki research, I learned this trailer had been shown only at IMAX showings of "I Am Legend" -- which I happened to have attended. Immediately, I set out to track this trailer down.

Oh, the power of YouTube. This trailer is not *technically* available, but on YouTube, I found a recording--it looked like someone pulled out a cellphone during the "I Am Legend" previews and recorded the whole thing. Really terrible quality, but I got to see my preview.

You can view it here, if any of you are crazy-obsessed enough to have the desire. :)

Counting down the days...

My Newest Addiction

And hopefully it subsides, since I just finished watching Season 2 (the only season I currently have access to.) Just so you can judge my addiction--I started watching it Saturday night. Mmm...addicted? Yeah.

Good and Bad, side by side

It's just one of those days.

Today I signed the lease for a house--my friend and previous roommate DixyAnn lives there already, so I've been in the house and liked it a lot. And liked the girls a lot too, which is a plus. It's in Taylorsville, and I move in February 1. Good thing.

Bad thing: Will I be able to pay for it? Hope so, hope so.


Good thing: I bought new shoes today. Sketchers, some cute little black flats. I like them a lot, and they're very comfortable. I like Sketchers.

Bad thing: My cousin's newborn daughter isn't doing well. Elaina may not make it.

Good thing: My family and some others are going to Primary Children's tomorrow to give Elaina a name and a blessing.

Bad thing: I'm almost over on my minutes on the cell phone, and the phone company called my parents accidentally, so I got ratted out.


Good thing: I downloaded the music for "Pachelbel meets U2" by Jon Schmidt, and I'm going to learn it.

Bad thing: My parents told me they want me to start paying my cell phone bill next month.

Good thing: I got some great advice from Dean Bill Byrnes today concerning URTA (on a matter closely related to "The Great Debate", as shown below. I got to discuss it with Nick, and we're feeling good.

Bad thing: I didn't get to see Chris today. :(

Good thing: Gregory might be coming to Cedar with us this weekend!

It's just one of those days, I guess.

The Life of the Invisible

This story was published in The Kolob Canyon Review in the Spring 2006 edition. I don't know why, but I picked it up today and it kind of struck me funny. Enjoy.


Life of the Invisible


Jason and Tyler’s apartment was small, and felt yet more cramped by the
comfortable couches, bean bags, and large entertainment center crammed into the front
room. An empty pizza box lay discarded next to one holding a single slice of
congealing cheese. Half-eaten bags of popcorn and Doritos were scatter on the
furniture. Cans of soda were within easy reach of the three people avidly involved in a
desperate game of Super Smash Brothers.

“Hey! I hate it when you do that!” Tyler shouted as Danielle’s Yoshi slurped his
Ness into an egg.

Jason met the Ness in the air with his own Samus, and Ness was thoroughly
zapped. But coming to ground, as Jason was about to attack again, the Ness leapt out
of the way before he could even twitch at the controller.

“No cheating, Tyler!” he growled.

“I’m not!” Tyler responded, shooting fire at Samus.

Their time expired, and with much groaning on the others’ parts, Ness was
shown as the winner. As Tyler stretched with an exaggerated yawn, obviously gloating,
Jason reached for his Pepsi and reiterated his belief in Tyler’s cheating.

“Just because you lost...” Tyler shrugged, draining a Squirt and reaching for a
Mountain Dew.

“It’s hard to tell sometimes, Ty,” Danielle interjected. She popped open a can
of Pringles and offered it to them both. “I mean, can you blame us?”

“Just because I can read minds doesn’t mean that I do,” Tyler responded
defensively. “Playing games is hard to read anyway, decisions come so fast, and I
have to play my own characters.” He grinned. “Card games, now, that’s when it can
come in handy.”

Danielle threw a cushion at him, which he blocked deftly; it just missed
knocking over Jason’s drink. “Oi!” Jason protested. “Watch it!”

Tyler knelt in front of the Nintendo set and started rifling through the games.
“What do you guys want to play next?”

Jason shrugged and Danielle made a non-committal sort of noise. She shifted
positions with a groan and looked over her shoulder at the clock. “Oh, I really should
be asleep. I’m going to pay for this in class tomorrow.”

“But it’s worthwhile to spend quality time with your old high school buddies,
right?” Jason said.

She rolled her eyes. “Dork.”

Jason raised his eyebrows. “Oh, that’s mature.”

“You’re one to speak of maturity,” she shot back.

“Oh yeah?” he said, reaching out to tickle the bottom of her foot.

“Hey!” She whipped her foot away.

“Hey what?” he teased, tickling just above her knee. She thrashed, and he rose
to his knees and proceeded to tickle her in every available spot he could reach, past her
futile attempts to block. Suddenly she reached out and tickled just beneath his arm.
He yelped in surprised and abruptly turned invisible.

“No fair!” Danielle shouted. Her hands reached out, trying to fend off his
continued attacks. He pressed on mercilessly until she was curled into a fetal position,
breathless and nearly in tears.

“Now that is cheating,” Tyler commented.

“Mercy!” Danielle gasped out. Jason rocked back on his heels and let himself
fade back into sight. He grinned triumphantly as Danielle slowly sat up, still breathing
fast, but with a twinkle in her glaring eyes.

“So, who’s up for Mario Kart?” Tyler said dryly, turning back to the television.
“I really better get going,” Danielle replied regretfully. She rose to her feet, and
Jason followed suit, watching as she retrieved her jacket.

“Do you want a ride home?” Jason asked.

She smiled at him over her shoulder. “No. I think I’ll fly.”

Jason shook his head. “Sometimes I forget how naïve you are.”

He saw irritation flash through her face before she shrugged nonchalantly. He
briefly wondered if he really had offended her, or if it was annoyance at something he’d
been saying for years.

“Good night, guys,” Danielle said curtly.

“Night,” Tyler called, his eyes glued to Mario Kart.

“Night, Danielle,” Jason said, opening the window for her. She stepped out
onto the tiny balcony and with a slight breeze, she was off into the night.

Jason stepped inside and shut the window. As Tyler completed the current lap,
Jason grabbed a handful of popcorn and a fresh Pepsi. He plopped down beside Tyler,
finished off the handful and grabbed a controller. Without comment he joined in the
next round.

As though he was reading Jason’s mind, Tyler dodged Jason’s every attack,
beating him on every round. Jason didn’t even bother to accuse him of cheating.

# # #

Climbing the stairs to the second floor of his apartment building, Jason’s
thoughts were wrapped up in his physics exam results, received earlier in the afternoon.
Physics was never Jason’s strong point—he just expected things to happen, with no
personal expectations regarding the mechanics of it all.

The second story was dim; one of the fluorescents was out near the stairwell,
another in the center of the hall. The aesthetic lack of appeal didn’t really bother Jason;
the rent was cheap. As he started down the corridor, Jason reached for his keys in his
coat pocket.

“Who do you think you are, you little idiot?”

Jason’s steps slowed, and he saw a crack of light leaking out of an apartment
several doors down from his own. He hesitated before he slipped his keys back into his
pocket, turned invisible, and crept closer to the open door.

“Dragging our family name around in the dirt like some filthy hippie!” a strong
male voice slurred. The smell of marijuana and beer streamed through the door to
Jason’s nose. “As if you didn’t have anything better to do with your life but hang out
with drugees!”

“Dad, I swear I haven’t been—“

“Shut up, you son of a bitch!” Jason heard something large hit the floor. “You
disgusting drug addict, you crap-smoking loser! Shut up!” Jason nudged the door
opened a little wider just in time to see the father in a white wife-beater backhand the
teenage boy cowering, half-risen off the floor, a chair broken near by. The sound of the
connecting flesh echoed horribly in Jason’s mind, and it was all he could do not to cry
out himself.


“Do you think we are made of money, Jason?”

Jason turned to face his father, suddenly fifteen again. The towering figure was larger
than he remembered, dressed in a business suit, the pressing all but gone after a day at the office,

the top buttons of the shirt undone. A little wine had gone with dinner. Adrenaline raced
through Jason’s veins, but he could not stop what he knew was coming. Then, or now.
“Well, boy? How do you expect me to keep paying for you if you don’t show anything
for it? You are wasting everything!”

“Dad, I swear I’ve been trying—“

“Your test scores are a disgrace! What the hell do you think you are doing?”
“The teachers are really hard, Dad—“

“I’m not going to keep paying for you to mess around! You have better things to do
than screw around with the little whores! Stop slacking off—“

“Dad!” Jason cried out urgently, knowing that he couldn’t stop it now, “ I haven’t
been—“

Jason’s father rushed forward, throttling him around the neck. “Shut up, you son of a
bitch! You listen when I’m talking to you!” Jason was thrust to the ground, receiving a sharp kick in the ribs. He cried out, but there was no one to hear him, no one to help him. There was never anyone to help. The blows continued to fall, and Jason didn’t even think to hide from them.

The drunk man before him raised the broken chair into the air, about to smash it
down upon his young son’s head. Emotion filled Jason’s chest, and he knew that this
time, a son would not be left alone, with no one to help him and defend him from his
father. Invisible, Jason’s foot was already moving into the room when the son abruptly
rose up, wrested the chair from his surprised father, and knocked the older man down
to the ground.

“Damn it, Dad, stop blaming me for your problems!” the kid shouted, tossing
the chair away. “Just because you smoke pot, quit thinking I’m doing the same idiot
crap! Mom didn’t leave me, she left you!” There was a pathetic moan from the floor,
and the boy kicked his father in the ribs. Without another word, the kid stormed from
the apartment, barely missing Jason, who stood, stunned, just inside the door. After a
few moments watching the groaning drunkard on the floor, Jason too left the apartment
and headed for his own, feeling more powerless than he had in a long time. Since the
night he had escaped his father for the first time—the night he found his invisibility.

# # #

Jason and Tyler sat in their apartment on a late Saturday afternoon. Tyler was
tinkering with parts Jason couldn’t recognize if he tried, and was putting them together
into something Jason couldn’t quite discern, but which he assumed would serve some
sort of gaming function. Jason himself was putting their vacuum back together, having
broken it earlier that month.

Tyler, in the middle of polishing a chip of some sort, abruptly giggled, quickly
stifled. Jason looked up at him. Tyler had a far-away look that Jason easily recognized.
“What now?” Jason demanded, turning back to the vacuum belt. “Who are you
spying on?”

“You really don’t want to know,’ Tyler replied smugly. He abruptly snorted and returned to polishing.

“It’s really disgusting, you know,” Jason commented.

“What is?”

“Invading peoples minds just for kicks.”

“Haven’t you ever been tempted to turn invisible to do stuff just for kicks?”

Brief memories appeared in snippets: sneaking into a professor’s office. Getting
into a concert without a ticket. Walking into a meeting late, not wanting to be noticed.
“No,” Jason said aloud.

“What about that time in high school? The girls’ locker room?”

It was a dare that he was too prideful not to take. “Go on!” Tyler encouraged. Jason
knew it was just a memory, but even then, he had been reluctant to move onward. His high- school self turned back to look.

There was Tyler, looking idiotic with a mullet, so new and excited in his telepathic
powers. Behind him was little Henry, their morph, dead now three years. And next to them was Zack, the one with super-strength who had made their high school years so much fun. Eventually he had found the boundaries of his strength, though, so he was gone too. Jason’s memory didn’t show Max, who could control electricity, maybe he hadn’t been there. The military had him now. “Jason, go on, man!” Tyler hissed. The others made gestures urging him forward.

Jason’s feet moved a few slow steps down the hall before he briefly concentrated (it had
been harder then, he remembered) and disappeared. He heard Tyler cackling gleefully as Jason put his hand on the door and pushed his way swiftly and quietly inside.

It took quick stepping to avoid a chattering group of girls on their way out. Nervously
Jason moved further inward, past lockers he had expected to be different from those in the guys’ locker room. A few girls remained after the gym class, but they were mostly dressed already, and Jason caught no more than glimpses of midriffs and thighs. Relief filled him, then embarrassment that he was relieved. He thought about turning back and making something up to satisfy the guys, but then he passed the last row of lockers.

Her back was facing away from him as she reached up and tugged her shirt over her
head. He couldn’t help looking as she pulled up her tatty blue jeans over some flower-print panties. He thought for sure that she would sense his watching presence as she stuffed her gym clothes into her locker and packed her things back into her bag, and he held his breath, his heart pounding in his ears.

“Hey Danny.”

Jason jumped at the same moment as Danielle, and whirled to see three tall, senior
blonde girls block off the path out of the locker room. “Any more weird stories for us today?” one asked. Jason tried to fast-forward the memory in his mind, the girls pushing Danielle into the lockers, throwing her homework and then her drawing notebook into the running showers, stealing her backpack with all her things, all the while calling her horrible names guys would never think to call a girl. He tried to look away as Danielle crumpled after their exit, but he hadn’t been able to look away then, either.

“What good is being able to fly?” she shouted to the empty locker room, her face red
and puffy from the lockers and crying. “You can’t fly from anything!” She dashed her tears away, and slammed her locker shut. “I’d rather be normal,” she whispered to it.

“I don’t even remember what happened that day,” Tyler said with a laugh. “Didn’t you see Jill Stiles’ boobs or something?”

Jason did not reply. He rose abruptly to his feet and made for the door, ignoring Tyler’s questions as they followed him out into the deepening dusk. He set off down the street, having no particular destination, only the need to be moving away.

Invisibility was a guilty power. You can’t do good things with a power that doesn’t let other people see you. There is no honest purpose. It’s only good for escaping from things. It had been cool, in high school, when their group had used their powers in various schemes. It had been fun to get away with things. Every once and awhile, he had tried to be a do-gooder using his powers, but it never quite worked out right, always leaving him feeling stupid, just like he had the other night.

What good is being able to fly? You can’t fight bad guys with it, you can’t be a bad guy with it. Superman had super strength, too, and a determination belonging to a god, not a man. But Jason didn’t want to be a superhero; he just wanted to be a decent person, something invisibility didn’t really fit with. Now, as the three of them remaining tried to lead normal lives, Jason used his power less and less, and only around Tyler and Danielle. Yet, even to this day, he couldn’t help feeling like invisibility had given him a firmer grasp on life and the real world. Flight was a naïve power, and Jason always had associated it with Danielle, so she was naïve in his mind, too.

But maybe I was wrong.

Suddenly filled with an overwhelming need to talk to Danielle, Jason turned on the spot and started walking briskly for her apartment. Upon reaching it, however, he found that it was dark and empty. Puzzled, he tried her cell phone, but got only her voice mail. He hesitantly scanned the skies, but it was still light enough out that he didn’t really expect to see her. Starting to feel a little worried, he jogged quickly across campus to the library, where he scoured the rows of desks and computer terminals, to no effect. He out-and-out ran back to his apartment, where he burst in to find Tyler still at the table with the controller parts.

“What’s wrong, man?” Tyler said, looking up at Jason.

“Tyler,” Jason said urgently, “Where’s Danielle?”

Tyler’s eyes hazed over, and for what seemed an eternity they remained far
away. Then he paled. “Oh, no.”

# # #

The two of them ran into the classroom building without noticing the looks that the janitorial staff gave them upon their wild entrance. Jason nearly rammed a guy into the wall in his rush to get down the hallway, but didn’t stop to apologize. The two of them tore into the locked office door, but with a little encouragement, it gave and they immediately rushed behind the desk and knelt, their hearts in their mouths.

Danielle lay crumpled on the floor, her flesh a mass of forming bruises, her clothing torn in several places where it was still on. Jason noticed a ring around one of her wrists and one of her ankles, as though a rope had burned into her skin. She cracked open one eyelid as far as it would open; the other was already swollen completely shut.

“Who was it, Danielle?” Jason demanded softly. Tyler pulled off his sweatshirt
to cover her exposed parts. “Who was it?”

Her eye closed again, and she shook her head with a soft moan. Jason fought the urge to shake her. “Danielle, who was it?!” But when again she would say nothing, Jason grabbed Tyler’s upper arm and shouted, “Tell me who it was!”

“Jason, without her permission-“

“Damn it Tyler, somebody just raped her! Show me who did it, you bastard!”

With a look of reluctance on his face, Tyler placed a hand hesitantly on the top of Danielle’s head, and the other on Jason’s chest. With a disorienting lurch, Jason was suddenly in Danielle’s mind. He felt the blows, felt himself fall to the floor, struggle to get up. He felt a surge of power with himself, and felt himself rise a little off the floor. But he was knocked down again. He turned to face his attacker, wishing with all his might that he could turn invisible and run away.

The face stared at him from two places—the baleful glare of a man shoved into a hallway wall matched the greedy face wrapping a rope around a thin, pale wrist and looping it around a door handle to keep it down to earth. What good is being able to fly?

“Jason,” Danielle coughed. “Jason, you aren’t a superhero. Haven’t you wanted to live a normal life?”

Jason hesitated, then answered, “Yes. Haven’t you?”

“Yes.” She coughed again, and a little blood spattered her lips. Her eye closed again. “This is as close as I have ever gotten.”

Jason felt his heart trying to tear open. He briefly grasped her battered hand, and for one instant, felt very human. But then his rage took him. He stood, heat coursing through his entire body. He could feel his fists clenching and unclenching, but could do nothing to stop them, even had he desired to. He turned abruptly and made for the door.

“Where are you going, Jason?” Tyler asked.

“I’m going to find him.”

# # #

Along with the rage and murder filling Jason’s brain, there was also guilt. Danielle would have been fine if she had invisibility. That thought drove him onward, drove his desire to kill. He darted down streets, past parked cars, following the taillights of a vehicle etched into his mind, little caution left to him. Even though flight was a do-gooder power, the power of the innocent, he, Jason, had the power to protect the innocent, and certainly the power to enact justice. He had to use what he had to protect the guiltless, those who couldn’t protect themselves. After years of using his power only for selfish reasons, petty reasons, he finally realized what his true purpose was.

Jason had to become a superhero.

Starting with Danielle’s attacker. The first nemesis.

Jason had followed him to his car, and the car led him to a house only a few blocks away from campus. A professor’s home. The windows were cheerfully lit, a drastic contrast to the cold dark outside and in Jason’s numbed heart. He crept up to the house, and slowly reached up to peer in the window.

“Go!” a shout cried out.

From bushes around the house and its neighbors, police and men dressed in black with weapons burst out into the open and invaded into the house. Jason watched, stunned, as Danielle’s attacker was arrested, dragged from his home and his wife and his children and forced into a police car. “We’ve been after this one for a while,” an officer told a distraught neighbor. “Known rapist.” Sirens blared in Jason’s ears as he stood in a stupor on the front lawn of that suburban home, feeling all emotion fade from him as he watched the task force drive away.

Jason was not sure how long he stood there, but as the night got darker and colder, eventually he woke to a reality in which he was still a normal person, still a college student with no blood on his hands. His powers meant nothing. He haltingly took steps away from the battered home, where a wife was in tears on the phone with relatives, trying to make sense of what couldn’t be real. Jason walked down the street, wondering if any of it had been real.

As if in a dream, Jason retracted his steps towards Danielle, going back to how he had been, living the life of the invisible.

A Sense of Accomplishment

You have to watch the whole thing, because I'm last. But these are good thoughts, so listen!

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