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19 Jewish rabbis arrested for protesting Donald Trump’s Muslim ban at Trump Tower

  • On Monday, 19 rabbis were arrested for protesting Trump’s executive order on refugees and Muslim immigrants at the Trump Tower in New York City.
  • The protest consisted of about 200 Jewish clergy members holding up posters defending Muslims and refugees, beating drums and shaking tambourines at around 7 p.m. 
  • Rabbi Lauren Grabelle Herrmann, one of the rabbis at the protest, said the rabbis who were arrested — 11 women, eight men — belong to a Jewish social justice group called T'ruah.
  • The rabbis were arrested for blocking traffic at the hotel as they prayed after their march through Manhattan’s Upper West Side. Read more

After her NYPD arrest, Eric Garner’s mother Gwen Carr says its her duty to fight Trump

  • Gwen Carr’s daughter teased her, once she learned her mother had been arrested protesting outside of Trump Tower in New York City.
  • “You’ve been around 67 years — you wait until you get 67 years old to get arrested?” her daughter joked.
  • Carr was among more than a dozen National Action Network demonstrators arrested by the NYPD on Tuesday night for blocking traffic on a busy and highly surveilled street in Manhattan.
  • But Carr says that, given the threat Trump poses to civil rights, policing reform and other social justice causes, her arrest was necessary.
  •  In July 2014, Carr’s son Eric Garner, was killed in an interaction with New York City police that’s slated for a Justice Department review under the new administration. As such, she said she will keep up the pressure on the people who make the decisions. Read more

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The Real Drug War

Drug Wars - You should probably read this first

mafia!Jungkook x Reader

Clever as the devil and twice as pretty.
-Holly Black

Warnings: There will be very explicit sexual content, violence, drugs,…

A/N: For people who read my J JK fic, I’m sorry, you’ll recognize one part - I just really wanted it here. None of these pictures are mine - credits to the owners.

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Some schoolkids might be happy if their school were knocked down.

Not in Nairobi.

On May 15, a group of primary school students sat at desks in the center of a main road to block traffic. Along with their parents, they were protesting the demolition of their school, the Kenyatta Golf Course Academy, over the weekend.

According to a BBC article, the schoolchildren chanted: “We want our school, we need to study in school.”

The reason for the demolition was a bit hard to pin down. Foreign Policy writes: “It appears the school was destroyed without any prior warning to parents — who had already paid their children’s tuition for the year. The school was on land that belonged to a church, and the school was destroyed without warning on Saturday over a land dispute, though exact details of the dispute weren’t made immediately clear.”

Why Are Kids Sitting At Their Desks In The Middle Of The Road?

Photo: Moses Muoki/Kenya’s Capital News

What are your rights at a protest?

Animation by KAPWA Studioworks

Citizen activism is as American as apple pie. Whether you call it a protest, a parade, a tea party, a town hall, a march, a sit-in, a patriotic rally, a picket line, a free speech event, or a nonviolent demonstration, your right to stand up peacefully for what you believe in is protected by the US Constitution. Read the  First Amendment:

“Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.”

To learn how to turn protest into powerful change, watch this TED-Ed Lesson.

Ready to exercise your constitutionally protected right to protest? Before you go, know your rights. Below, read an excerpt from the American Civil Liberties Union guidelines for protestors. [For a pdf of the full ACLU ‘Know Your Rights’ guidelines for protestors, click here.]

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i will write happy someday, about new cologne and pretty views. and i will write sad some nights, about broken promises and gas lights. but i won’t stop, not until my sleeves are sticking to my skin. not until my throat stops swelling up on purpose. not until i’m writing to myself again, and not to broke down cars and shitty middle names. i swear, i’ll become my own person once more or else i’ll die trying. i’ll die fighting. i’ll fight.


Chicago block tagged with graffiti reading “KKK” and “No N*ggers” on consecutive days

  • No Niggers.” That’s the message residents of Chicago’s West Loop community found spray-painted on two of their sidewalks Thursday evening — just one day after someone scrawled “KKK” on traffic barriers about a block away.
  • The racist graffiti was discovered Thursday night on Monroe Street. The sidewalk on one side of the street said, “No Nigger.” The other sidewalk said, “No Niggers.” Read more. (5/6/17, 12:45 PM)
A Note to Protesters from a Caregiver: Do Not Block Traffic

From 2013 through 2014 I was a caregiver to my ailing grandmother. She had advanced Alzheimer’s, and multiple health issues. Many times we knew the best way for us to get her to the hospital was us driving her ourselves. She was easily frightened by strangers which led to violence outbursts and resistance, which we knew from past experience with EMTs transporting her. The couple of times she had a stroke, we knew time mattered and wouldn’t even contemplate calling EMTs because we knew we could get to the hospital quicker. If we got blocked by protesters in those situations, my grandma’s outcome could have turned out way worse. We relied on the roads being safe and clear for us to travel. If we ever got blocked, it could have led to significant trauma to the brain, or even death. And before you think or even dare to argue my case is uncommon, it is not. My family did not have the privilege to send her to a nice nursing home. We could send her to one, but the conditions at the ones we could afford were not great. This was the case of multiple other families I knew. Go ahead and protest, but not when it interferes with traffic or people’s safety.

anyway today i had one of the best healthcare experiences ever, perhaps improbably at the doctor’s office i was assigned by medicaid, including a long intake interview with an older lesbian nurse named flo with no awkwardness about the “are you sexually active” questions or anything else, and she told me about marching in the first pride march in 1970 and blocking traffic with act up in the ’80s and how she’s so worried now, never believing we’re safe. she seemed genuinely pleased to meet me and of course i was thrilled to meet her and then the doctor was super nice as well and is gonna help me out and anyway have i mentioned recently that i love this city because i do

Oh, the joys of working at a storage facility.

I worked as a front desk clerk for a storage company. This facility was managed by an incompetent cheapskate, and the District Manager is a miserable dumpy balding little jerk.

The customers were no better. We had shady characters who broke our rules apart. We had tenants who hid stolen goods here (my coworkers and I always reported them to the police, despite the manager whining later because he had to fill out some forms as a result), some creep actually hid dead bodies in one unit, but fortunately the cops caught up to him. There was a guy trying to hide his meth lab equipment there…one guy trued to hide stolen or tainted vehicles here…And then we had these people trying to live out of the units, despite our “No Residence” rules for this particular location.

The local homeless population CONSTANTLY trespassed in here. They slept in front of the units and the gates, blocking our tenants from driving in or driving up to their units. They tried to break into the facilities, either for shelter or to steal things to swap for drugs or drug money…they got in mostly by waiting for a tenant to enter or exit via vehicle, and ran in after the gates opened or before they closed. I saw them on camera constantly and tried to get the police to remove them, but my boss would constantly undermine me by calling the police department front desk (not 911) after I had just gotten off the phone with them, and tell them not to come by and deal with the trespassers, despite numerous complaints from the paying tenants.

The district manager didn’t even give a crap when the tenants complained to him about homeless trespassers scaring them or blocking their units, or about the trash all over the facility because the manager wouldn’t clean it up, or let anyone in the staff clean it up.

These jerks were so cheap. They put very little money back into the business. The surveillance cameras would fail, the local homeless people would bust out the floodlights, we had constant graffiti taggers, and the front gate motor was horrendously sluggish, giving trespassers easy access to the facility. They made more than enough money, but nooooo….they didn’t want to miss out on a new luxury car or their next vacation they were always bragging about.

A lot of angry ex tenants or even ex employees would break the windows of the office, or committed other acts of vandalism on the compound. One of them tried to set the office on fire with a molotov cocktail after hours.

Other times angry customers would come down or call and scream at me just because corporate jacked up their rents exponentially and frequently. We had no control over that, yet they bitched at us…or rather me and my coworkers, my coward boss just hid in his office and played Nintendo.

There was this one jackass with a Dualie pickup truck, pulling up to the gate, and honking like a wild maniac. I was busy helping customers in the office, but took a moment to pause with them and then I got on the intercom and asked him “May I help you, sir?”.

Dualie Dan is yelling and swearing into the intercom, saying that he is “trying to get into the facility to pick up something from a locker”. No shit sherlock…I asked him if he had forgotten his personal gate code. He said he didn’t have one which meant that he wasn’t a tenant. I told him “All tenants have a gate code assigned to them. If you don’t have ine, you aren’t a tenant and company policy says that I can’t let you in unless you can present a key to your unit and/or similar proof of tenancy.” He screams “Fuck your company policy! Let me in you bitch!”. I told him “I don’t appreciate your language, and if you insist on being so rude, you’ll have to leave NOW, or I’ll call the police!”.

After all, I don’t know this guy, never sww him before or his vehicle, how do I know he’s not a burglar? The guy screams and curses at me over the intercom and honks his horn, his truck sticking out and blocking traffic.

As I was about to dial the police, my boss came out and asked what was going on (the noise from Dualie Dan was disturbing his Nintendo playing in the back office). I told him what was going on, and he insisted I let this guy in. I refused, stating that this guy didn’t have an assigned gate code and he had never been here before.

The guy parked illegally on the street, came in kicking the door open, and yelled at me and my boss, scaring the other customers. He said “….bitch won’t open the gate!”. My boss said “Sir, do you have a copy of your rental agreement, or at least a key to your unit?”. Dualie Dan says “No I ain’t got no rental agreement! I’m picking up the ping pong table for my brother in law in unit 12!”. My boss asked “…do you have a key, sir?”. The guy digs through his pockets, then digs through his truck outside, as I quickly and quietly helped the last of the customers in line.

He brought the key over, and it was the wrong key. It was for a bicycle lock, it was a barrel lock cylinder key! He then goes into a rage, acts like it’s OUR fault that he misplaced the key. We wouldn’t let him into the facility. We told him that the tenant needed to be present with him, along with a copy of the rental agreement AND a key.

The guy’s brother in law was just at home watching TV, too lazy to get his butt off of the couch to come down her with his brother in law to pick up the ping pong table from the unit! He didn’t even give him the card with the gate code on it, or even the correct key! Dualie Dan left, after screaming at his bro in law over the phone and then pitching an epic temper tantrum over getting a ticket from the local parking enforcement for being illegally parked, and of course he blamed ME, despite the fact we have open parking spaces in front to accommodate a truck as big as his…the jerk left, came back with his brother in law who had a copy of the rental agreement, his card with the gate code written on it, and the key to the unit.

Normally, we don’t demand this of anyone visiting the units if they are a tenant, or even if they aren’t a tenant but here on behalf of a tenant, if they just quietly pull up, enter the gate code, and have a key to the unit. If they have trouble getting in, they need to either have a copy of the rental agreement from the tenant and/or the card with the gate code written on it for the tenant, be accompanied by the tenant, and definitely present a key to the unit. Company policy. If they can’t even furnish a key, let alone any documents related to the rental of a unit (key code card or rental agreement), or the tenant is not with them, then they need to either get the tenant or the required documents along with a key. We don’t want to be responsible for any thefts.

The idiots got their ping pong table, but man was that an ordeal. Then, get this, the manager writes ME up for “Inconveniencing a customer.” because the stupid tenant complained about being dragged over here by his bro in law “Dualie Dan”. All he had to do was give “Dualie Dan” the correct key, the gate code card, and a copy of the rental agreement if he didn’t want to get his stupid lazy butt out of the house.

I quit shortly after that. I’d had more than I could take.

A Little Love & A Broken Jaw

Pairing: Jason Todd (Red Hood) x Reader

Genre: Comdey, Comfort, & Romance

Warnings: None

Summary:  Jason comes back hurt after a mission gone wrong.


Read on Ao3

You opened the door to your apartment, thankful to finally be home. Work had kept you from getting out until 7pm and then it took to hours to get home because for some reason the Red Hood had traffic blocked up.

You threw your keys on the counter and went to go get changed, rolling your eyes at the thought of you boyfriend.

Most girls would be freak out over their boyfriend vigilantism, if not that then they’d definitely be freaking out seeing him go crashing right onto the top of a car.

But it was another day in the life of dating a member of the Batfamily so you weren’t worried. More than likely his family was with him, or he’d go to the Batcave later and get his injuries checked out. Alfred was just about as good as any doctor when it came to setting broken bones or treating fractures.

And with that thought you went about your evening, changing into a pair of sweatpants after taking a shower and making yourself to eat. Once your nightly routine was over it was almost 10pm and you finally got to sit down on the couch and pop open your favorite book.

You were barely through the first page when you heard a small tapping noise from the window at your fire escape. You looked up to see a gloved hand and a red hood sitting on your window sill, trying to get your attention. You put your book down in a hurry to open the window, a feeling in your stomach telling you something was off.

You slid the glass open, taking your boyfriend’s arm as he stumbled into your apartment. With his free arm he pulled his helmet off and chucked it to the floor, allowing you to get a good look at his face. Your heart squeezed at the sight.

Jason’s jaw was clearly not where anatomy deemed it was supposed to be. Blood was running down his forehead and along the side of his face around his black eye.

You gulped, wondering why in the hell Jason had come to you rather than go back to the Batcave to get patched up by Alfred. There wasn’t much you could do for these injuries. You decided it was best to do what you could in the bathroom, where you had a small medical kit underneath the cabinet.

You sat him on the lid of the toilet and pulled out a washcloth to clear the blood off of his face.

“Baby what happened?” You said, finally getting up the courage to ask him.

He just shook his head and pointed to his jaw, letting you know that attempting to speak wasn’t a good idea right now. A lightbulb went off in your head.

“I’ll be right back” You say to him, coming back a moment later with a notepad and pencil. You put it in his free hand before grabbing the washcloth and going back to cleaning the blood off of his face.

“Start explaining yourself.”

He sighed through his broken jaw and began to scribble on the notepad, irritated that he wasn’t going to get out of telling you what had happened. You finished cleaning up the blood, pulling the rubbing alcohol out to disinfect his cuts. Jason pulled away your hand before you could get a chance to finish cleaning him up, taking the supplies out of your hand and replacing them with the notepad. You looked down, beginning to read the what he had written.

That fucking clown was running around like he always is. Bats and I ended up getting into a fight because I had tried to kill him. Satan Spawn got pissed at me and threw me off the building into traffic. I didn’t go back to the Batcave because I was pissed and I just wanted to see you.

You giggled at how he had described Damian as “Satan Spawn” before handing the notebook back to him and leaning against the counter to look at him.

“Baby you should have gone back to the cave. Alfred could’ve patched you up much better.  You could have just came here later and I would have let you in.”

Jason held up a finger and scribbled on the notebook for a few more minutes, holding it up for you to read this time rather than just hand to you.

Nothing compares to when you patch me up.

You rolled your eyes at the cheesiness, leaning down to where he sat and giving him a kiss on the forehead. He smiled the best he could before wincing in pain and writing in the notebook once again.

So what are you doing tonight?

You scoffed at the note, beside the words was a winky face.

“I was going to have a nice quiet night of reading, but I guess I’ll be patching up your broken jaw instead.”

Jason huffed as ran your fingers along his jaw as gently as you could, assessing the damage. After a few minutes you came to the conclusion that there was no way you could take care of him yourself.

“You’re going to have to go to the cave, love. There’s nothing I can do here.”

Jason huffed again, slowly standing up to tower over you. He grabbed the notebook one more time, jotting down one more sentence underneath his previous words.

At least let me stay here tonight.

You gave him a small smile, taking his hand and leading him to the bedroom. He sat down on the bed, watching you pull out some fresh clothes he had left at your apartment previously. At this point he knew you gave in, allowing him to get checked out by Alfred in the morning rather than calling the butler to come get him.

He got changed and laid down in the bed, expecting you to slip underneath the comforter with him. When you got up to leave his hand reached for your forearm, stopping momentarily.

“Give me a few minutes babe. I’m just going to clean up and then I’ll be in bed with you.”

He huffed for what seemed like the millionth time, releasing your arm to let you go. Jason rolled over, allowing himself to get comfortable after the exhaustion of the night’s events.

You went to the bathroom, cleaning up the medical kit and throwing the washcloth into the hamper. You peaked into the bedroom once again, seeing that Jason had succumbed to sleep. You bit back your lip at hearing his labored breathing through his broken jaw. He definitely had a broken rib too.

You quietly exited the bedroom and shut the door behind you, tiptoeing your way to the living room where you had left your phone earlier that night.

You tapped the phone a few times until you reached the first contact in your list and hitting the call button. It only rang once when you heard the person at the other end of the line.

“How bad is it?”

“Broken jaw. Black eye. And a possible broken rib.” You hear a sigh at the other end of the line.

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

“Thank you Alfred.”


So this image has been making the rounds on this site and elsewhere…

And the usual kinds of shit happened - some people celebrated, others called them murderers, and heated exchanges happened. Okay, so let me be as civil as I can…



They aren’t saying you can run anyone protesting over that you want.


Fucking read:




Fuck! There is so much to worry about - we might be getting into a third world goddamn war, and y’all are arguing over shit that isn’t even real. You think any government official would legalize The Purge: Protest Edition? It isn’t hard to be smarter than a block of wood in a dumpster fire, but y’all make it look impossible. If anyone is illiterate and gullible enough to act on this image, THEY’LL GO TO JAIL FOR A LONG TIME. Now could we please get some rationality up in this?

anonymous asked:

When UNC and Gonzaga play the championship game and 15,000 people flood into the streets, and light fires and turn over cars. but they don't get tazed, they don't get maced, they don't get called thugs, they don't get arrested and don't get called terrorists, even though they block traffic, even though they damage personal property even though they didn't apply for permits. No question, just pointing out, how NCAA B-Ball is more important than black lives anywhere.

Our societies values are so massively jacked up.

You want to come into my life? The door is open. You want to get out of my life? The door is open. Just one request: Don’t stand in the door, you’re blocking traffic.
—  Don’t waste my time 

anonymous asked:

If you're Christian, that's all fine and cool man, that's your business. Yes, I am a cashier, and no, I don't want your pamphlets about your church and no, I am not interested in converting to your religion!

Had a coworker make me give one to my husband as he was driving me off at work… We were blocking traffic for the valet parking because of this. Hubby threw it away as soon as he got home. I think the coworker saw my expression because he hasn’t talked to me since. I am so totally not religious because of this exact same behavior. If you want people to be interested then stop harassing them with your leaflets and lectures. -Abby

anonymous asked:

hello, i vividly remember seeing an interview where darren wilson confirmed he didn't know about the "theft" mike committed, do you perhap have that? he was standing infront of a green hedge

I’m not sure which interview you’re talking about.

But on August 15, 2014, 6 days after Mike Brown was murdered, Ferguson Police Chief Tom Jackson said, “the initial contact between Darren Wilson and Mike Brown was not related to the alleged theft of cigars”. Chief Jackson said Wilson approached Mike Brown and Dorian Johnson for “blocking traffic”.

Darren Wilson and the police have changed their story many times since August 9, 2014, however.

Short story- The End

To tide people over while I work on personal matters (writing’s had to wait a tiny bit, working out stuff for moving out), I’m posting a short story/ first chapter I wrote a while back. Technically I could elaborate on it, but this is what I have at the time. I hope you guys like it!

The door to the roof was locked. Rick would smash it down with the axe, but he’d need both hands for that. Instead, he kicked it just under the doorknob, and light streamed into the dark staircase as the door swung open. Jason took his hand off of his side, just for a moment, and put on the pair of sunglasses from his jacket pocket. He grunted as him and Rick stepped out onto the roof, and the sensation of fresh air filled his nostrils. Sure, it smelled a little like ash and sulfur, but it was better than in that dreadful place. They stumbled towards the edge of the roof, and settled down on the edge, with their feet dangling off of the roof. Rick tossed the massive gilded battleaxe down next to him, and let out a chuckle as he carefully placed the plastic bag down as well. A whole lot of good that thing was, he didn’t even get to properly use it.

The afternoon light felt strained and weak, as if the sun was being pulled into the swirling whirlwind of pure terror and chaotic energy that was manifesting downtown. They stared at it in awe for a few seconds, watching all the people in a panic. People running and screaming, heavy traffic on every block, even a few looters added to the pandemonium unfolding before them. Luckily Rick had managed to get some last minute shopping done before all hell broke loose. Metaphorically and literally, by the looks of it. He hoped that none of the blood, sweat and other various fluids that currently decorated the plain plastic bag had gotten inside it as well. Now that would be a shame.

“Are you gonna be alright?” said Rick, as Jason pulled his coat back a little to inspect the crude bandages around his side.

“Bad choice of words, considering the situation, but at least this won’t kill me.” Jason pulled his satchel onto his lap, and rummaged in it for a second before pulling out the roughly carved totem that had started all of this. Rick still didn’t think it looked all that much like the monstrosity it was depicting, but he supposed the artist had to take some creative liberties. Jason tossed it off of the roof, and they both watched in silence as it fell and shattered on the pavement below. Rick leaned back, and adjusted the tie he had to repurpose as a bandana to stop the bleeding. Unfortunately, headbutting cultists was not half as fun as it looked in movies. Pity, it was his favorite tie too. At least he wouldn’t have to wash it for work tomorrow.

They sat there for several minutes in pure silence. Well, it would have been silence if not for the whirling wind, the cars honking and the sound that sounded eerily similar to a screech coming from far away and yet right behind you as well. Finally, Jason broke the silence.

“So, what now?” he said as he leaned back on his elbow, with one arm still clutching the place where his spleen used to be a few hours ago.

“What do you mean?” Rick responded.

“Well this is it, right? The Apocalypse? The end of days? Humanity’s great quelling? So is this all, just some terror tornado and poof, everyone’s dead? That feels like a bit of a cop-out.“

Rick gave a short grunt of agreement, and Jason continued. “I mean, it’d just feel wrong if it ended here. For a being of chaos, total annihilation almost feels out of character. Wouldn’t it be more fun for a higher being to see us struggle than to just end it here? I bet he’s going to keep some people alive, just to toy with them.”

Rick stared off into the distance and nodded. “I still can’t believe that those crazy bastards managed to achieve total chaos with only a sweater vest, a human spleen and a plate of Chicken Parmesan.”

“Don’t you go insulting my spleen, I grew it myself.”, said Jason. “Sometimes you don’t notice how much you love some things until they’re gone.”

Rick chuckled and reached into the bag, producing a couple cans of soda. They weren’t ice cold anymore, but at least they had stayed safe from what they had just faced. He tossed one to Jason, and then opened his and took a long sip from it. He stared at the massive eye forming in the sky above the storm as his feet dangled over the side. He didn’t know if he would see tomorrow, or if it would be a tomorrow worth seeing. In any case, he had tried his hardest, and isn’t that what really matters? Maybe not, he thought to himself as he saw a news chopper get swept up and consumed by the swirling void. Oh well, in any case there probably wouldn’t be a lot of people to reprimand him after all was said and done. He turned to Jason again. “I’ll bet you ten bucks that money will be worthless after this.”

Jason laughed. “I’ll bet you ten bucks we won’t survive this.”

“I’ll take that bet”, Rick responded.”If you win I won’t be able to pay you back, it’s a win-win situation for me.”

They sat in silence for a while longer, watching the storm continue to grow as the eye looked on from above. They both knew that there was no point in running. They were both too exhausted to deal with the tragedy that was unfolding in front of them, so their minds wandered, focusing on the little things. Rick wouldn’t have to listen to another complaint from his hair-brained boss. Jason wouldn’t have to mow Mrs. Custer’s lawn next Tuesday, and he could keep the stake launcher he’d borrowed from Eugene as long as he wanted. They were both terrified about what the future might hold for them if it held anything at all, and they both couldn’t wait to see what it would all be like.

matheush5n1  asked:

Hello, I Really love your tumblr, help me a lot with MBTI, there is not enough thanks for you. There is my question: I am Te-dom, but i am in doubt about te "N". I am the futuristic mind and "look for pattern" of the Ni users, but some times i am daydreaming and procrastinator of the Ne user. Please, explain the diferences of the N in the ExTJ. Thank You very Much

(Gif: Stephen Dillane as Thomas Jefferson in John Adams.)

Both Ne and Ni look to the future and seek patterns. And any type can daydream or procrastinate – that has zero to do with Ne itself.

The difference lies in their adaptability.

Picture a car amid many other cards on a highway, driving toward their destination – and all of the sudden, it sees a massive tanker ahead of it slide on the ice, skid sideways, and fall across four lanes of traffic, effectively blocking the only exit that the car can use to get to where it’s going.

The Ni slams on its breaks and skids to a stop. It has to wait.

The Ne slams on its breaks, shifts gears, goes across the ditch, and manages to wind up back on the road on the other side of the oil tanker, but it isn’t going to reach its original destination – it’s fine winding up in the next town instead.

Or, put it into the context of writing a short story.

The Ni does not start writing until the story is fixed in their mind, and all the pieces are in place. Then, they write it all out and the major components of the story do not change through the editing process. Major themes, scenes, conversations, and characters stay largely the same, because all the figuring out was done in the Ni’s mind. They visualized it, and brought it into being.

The Ne starts writing a story with a vague idea of where it’s headed in mind, but revises and innovates as it goes along, sometimes dropping entire characters or plot lines in favor of better ones through the writing process. It may then go back and edit a dozen times, changing scenes around, bringing in new or leaving out old characters, even re-framing dialogue to carry a totally different meaning from what was originally intended.


Ni seeks clarity of focus and a single destination, and Ne seeks wideness of focus and adaptability. Ne gets bored with what is unchanging. IE, “Dang, I wrote this scene eight months ago and have read it 15 times since and it’s boring me, so I’m going to change it up to keep it interesting.” (Think George Lucas, angering Star Wars fans by “tinkering” with the original films. BUT THE OLD WAY BORED ME, AREN’T YOU BORED??? All fans: … no, you idiot!!! … well, except probably some of the less-sentimental Ne-doms who laughed and said, “That’s awesome.”)

ENTJ: constant and present focus on the far flung future, but struggles to adapt facing challenges where their vision may not come to pass as they imagined it, since their Se is poor. (Se would give them adaptability, but they may struggle to LET GO OF THEIR ORIGINAL VISION - Ni - to chase it.)

ESTJ: prefers what is tried and true and enjoys speculation and futuristic focus, but only as pertains to the situation at hand; may struggle to let go of “how it has been done before” (Si) in order to branch out into “let’s embrace this new reality or way of thinking before everyone else does” (Ne).

- ENFP Mod