writing

Dear Twitter

Dear Twitter,

You will have never heard of me, but I am just one of the many people that tried to make a little bit of home on your site. Guessing at the prior sentence can lead one to believe that I am not having the greatest of luck with it, and that is correct. Why, though baffled me because it seemed to me so many people were able to use it for all their projects. I even took classes to brush up until a sudden though caught me.

The physical processes of Twitter is not the problem. I cannot communicate effectively in the 150 characters to make any point I want to make a waste of all the time put in.  Some people can do it well, others need to be more freely to form their statements and that’s okay.

Some of the people you have though are the exact kind of people I just do not want to associate with on a scale that makes me think that being a true to form super villain actually seems like a sensical route. Once again, some does not mean all.  I would like to talk with some of the people on there as it would a nice way to open your mind further.

Just though, the majority of people on your website from my own experience have to be some of the most idiotic subjects in the history of failed lab experiments. Trying not to say anything about it would not make much difference, and I could do something a little bit more positive. Business plans, editing, writing, making my games, and anything else I may want to do.

Maybe, I just need some time to acclimate to the new form of communication. Maybe, I need to get used to what people think is important. Probably should stop thinking I have have found the bottom of the idiot barrel on the internet because that always goes badly. No matter what the reason is. It is about the time for me to look and go is it useful enough that I should continue trying or is it something that I should fall back until either I get used to it more, smarten myself up on it, or find myself an audience that actually has enough of a spark floating between their ears to bring a double AA back to life.

Call me old fashioned. Call me a raging idiot if it makes you feel better, and that could very well be the case. I am not safe from the sheer stupidity either. In any case hope your people are brighter and your days more enjoyable.

Sincerely,
Oneguyinportland

Also, what in the flying blue circle of hell does bae mean?
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As a Rough draft grows and morph in to different projects it is always nice to see what needs to be done to finish it up. Right now the dates have to go, basic grammar and spelling checks because I was too sleep deprived to hammer the fine details. Lengthening and pictures of course. Still same rules as apply with these excerpts as the last set. They are all first draft and we have along way to go on them.

 

 

July 2nd – American Cuisine

American cuisine is more then the few chefs on television all the time. In fact even thinking they are representing American cuisine is like saying the trail blazers are great foot ball players only because they play a pro sport. Many may even see it as a joke on words like jumbo shrimps or common sense. Exploring my home country’s cuisine can maybe get a better view of your own home whether its another part of America or another country altogether.

Some of the basic points of this part of the book will be learning how ingredients made their way to each section of land. Distinguishing how the food was grown, sold, or brought in speaks to the way things were back in the era where such foods were new as well as how they were valued. For many of the older recipes certain things had to be done so that the food would be able to hold longer with less effort. Back in older eras such as the wild west or the pioneer rush eating food was a had to do action and not so much as something to be fussed over much. Flashy sauces and more costly ingredients making their way in to the dishes of the era were more found in the establishments popular in larger cities. Moving to the more rural areas such things may only be made rarely or bought in to save time while celebrating.

Respecting these people who in the untamed times of each section could make simple food taste so good should be revered as nowadays we may face different problems such as the loss of flavor and the increase of artificial chemicals. Time was not so liberally implanted as it took time for the families of the past to pickle and preserve everything they could while thinking up the recipes to get the most bang for their buck.

We all need to try and make the best food we can so we can live the best lives we can. This does not take an over abundance of food though which is something we must learn within our borders.

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Excerpt – Life, Love and Cooking

April 27th – Beef by numbers

Cooking cuts of beef to preferred doneness can seem rather scary to the uninitiated. Ending with an overcooked or vastly undercooked slab of meat can unnerve someone. When you ask how things should be cooked and get a half dozen different answers you need to learn the signs of difference which can come from one of two ways. First way it can be measured is by touch for as the protein cooks it gets tougher. Now there are some numbers you can check if you have a digital thermometer it will be the quickest way to get the temperature only do so when you feel you are just about done. Heat will continue to cook the meat so you want to aim just a few degrees lower then your target and let carryover heat finish the job. Take your reading from the top of the meat until you are comfortable with your skill. For the sear most look for on thicker steaks marks you will need to make them faster with a hotter grill. All numbers are in degrees of Fahrenheit

Blue – This is the rarest of all and you should remove it from the grill when it reaches 115 and the carry over should take it to 120.

Rare – Remove as it reaches 120 and let the residual heat push it to 125

Medium Rare- Remove at 125 and let residual heat push it to 130

Medium- Remove meat at 135 and let the residual finish it at 140

Medium Well- Remove at 145 and let residual heat bring it to 150

Well done – Remove at 155 and let residual heat finish it at 160

Brick – Cook to 165 and the finishing heat will bring it up to 170

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Excerpt – Life, love, and cooking

So before we go in to the excerpt let me tell you something about this project. It originally started as something that someone read one page per day that would take them from the basics as I had learned them, skills and stories having that all build in to the end of the year. So things like basic sauce making, stocks and doughs in January while in December their would be actual full meal breakdowns.

The problem I found out with that is that makes a lot of writing. Starting off on the editing process I found out that everything ended up just under 125k words. For those who write the National Novel Writing Month has the goal of 50k so in short I wrote a lot for one book. After some thinking about what would be the best way to handle this I may have found an answer. If anyone would like to comment their two cents on it, I would appreciate it.

Options are either release it as one massive book or in two portions. If It gets split in to two portions it won’t be over the year obviously, but it will be easier to handle I would think. Also, I will have one excerpt from each month of the book on this blog. So twelve different excerpts to let you see how it is so far. One down eleven to go and with this, ten to go.

February 20th –A million starbucks yet

Knowing how popular coffee is in this country; tea has suffered the fate of falling in its shadow. Consisting of so many different flavors from all around the world some exist for taste while some take double duty for a sleeping aid or a caffeinated drink of choice. Since the amount any times is lower then your coffee or soda you can get a small boost without worrying about the crash.

At any house absolutely anywhere one good pot of tea just needs a couple pieces of information and some water. The info you will want will be how much you are steeping, what temp the water needs to be at for best flavor as well, as well how long.

For one 8 ounce cup of tea start with 1.5 tsp of whatever leaves you need except in the case of green and black which can be dropped to 1 tsp. Green is often sold in powders so you will need less of it. Reason is of how much surface area with the powder versus regular leaves. Black tea is often very strong so start off with one tsp just to see if you like that.

Green and white teas are good when steeped at 175 for between two to four minutes. Oolong and black go twenty degrees higher for 3 to 4 minutes. Herbals do best just under boiling at 205 for 5 minutes. Of course other teas are out there and they will have special preparation such as Chai for example. Learn how to maximize the flavor and invite your friends for a cup and a game. When making iced teas double the amount of leaves or powder.

You can have a tea pot, however you do not need one for good tea. If you want one there are many models and styles to choose from. Extra care needs to be taken though as with iron teapots you do not want to over heat a pot to blacken the paint or leave your leaves inside it for a period has that may invite rust or a loss of finish.

 

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Excerpt – Life, Love and Cooking

Here is something from one of the book projects I currently have in the starting round of editing. Something for every day of the year going over kitchen wisdom, recipes, tips, tricks and my own experiences working in various kitchens.

January 5th– Ratios vs. recipes (quick pie crust)

Things do not need to be difficult to be good. Some times I will crack a cook book to find a recipe with too many ingredients, and many of which serving no purpose to the final dish. Pie crust is an ingredient that is a great example of this. Dozens of possible combinations between fats, flours, and flavorings may make things confusing. You will need a pastry cutter for this. Otherwise a pie crust is always within a three step countdown. Ratios you will find to be much more useful then complicated recipes. I will try to give ratios whenever possible in the future.

So three parts all purpose flour with two parts fat either shortening or butter and one part ice cold water. Pinch some salt in with the flour and give it a light stir with the hand. So which fat do you use? Shortening would be useful if you’re new to the crust game for the simple fact that it will not melt as easily so you have more time. Butter will bring better flavor and richer texture just realize that you will need to chill the butter even freezing it may be suggested. If you want to go halvsies on the fats I have found that will give you the best of both worlds.

Put your fat in the flour and using your pastry knife cut the fat in to the flour. This will take some time if you’re not used to it that’s ok. Now how much you cut it to depends on what you are using it for if you need a flaky crust such as the top cover to a double crust pie then you want to cut the fat to the size of frozen peas. Cutting to rice size fat granules will create a mealy crust. Reason for this is that when you roll the dough the fat flattens and the larger size lends itself to creating layers while the mealy crust will be structurally sound. Next add the water do so slowly stopping at the last tenth before kneading together if it seems a little dry then continue with the last tenth until amalgamated. Wrap the dough in plastic wrap before putting it in the fridge to chill before rolling out to whatever you need.

3 parts all purpose flour 2 parts cold fat 1 part ice cold water 1/8 tsp salt for 8 oz of dough.

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Thoughts after an accident

Warning: This post is going to touch on some serious subjects.

So while I am working on all this writing, the business plans, future investments, the card game and everything it usually calls about on some major concentration. As anyone can tell by my pas posting I have not been able to get a lot done in the recent time.

It’s just I was thinking after my brother got in a wreck which he is thankfully ok from. After watching him lose his car, something that meant so much to him as being able to be free be taken away because of someone’s negligence just makes me think, and I need to vent a little.

My sister and I have a lot of bad blood between us, but its a least to the point of polite conversation. Now, during many of the years my parents often imbibed and my father was not the kindest man when things would set him up. Obviously, all the details are not needed. There were three kids and the times that someone didn’t stop it there was a couple of additions of bruises. Except my sister and I tried everything to keep our brother out of the cross hairs. Now, with pops out of prison, and mom’s memory it almost feels like my sister and I are two last soldiers in a forgotten war.

My mother’s memory was lost of those moments after her stroke. Pops would say he does not remember and my brother does not want to talk about the events he went through, the ones we couldn’t stop. My knee was twisted almost out of the socket, my jaw smacked, my ribs bruised multiple times, my shoulder blade nearly shattered just from family incidents.

It just sucks that my brother after we made it through so much after the three of us kids made it so far against everything and when my brother made it, and gets his car only to have someone wreck it and run out of their car to escape. The guy after hitting my brother so hard he slid across the width of a four lane street being spun out thought not to see if he was okay, but run. Run out of the SUV to get away from my brother, and luckily the car took the hit in the back seat drivers side. No one else was in the car except the door was bent in so far it wouldn’t open. If it was the front seat then the force would have bent the door half way through the drivers seat.

He loved to have that freedom of just going somewhere without having to ask someone. What scares me the most is when he got so mad I could almost see the reflection I had when I was so much younger. He is a different person though and I can only hope that he is not like me because I kept all my anger in when I was younger. Only time will tell and that’s what sucks. Maybe I am just over empathizing, I hope he isn’t dealing with it the way I used too

Thanks, for letting me vent.

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Excerpt – “The price of a mistake”

I sat at my kitchen table, the mixed perspiration of waking from a cold sweat with tear trails down my cheeks making everything react to the cold night air in the kitchen more then normal. The counter was warm as my hands didn’t move from their marble resting place cradling a glass of dark amber whiskey. My heart was pumping fast as the dream haunted over me like a cloud of evil.

It started first in the familiar shape of the octagon. Roars from the crowd were loud despite being hidden from view. All of the light as well as the focus was in the ring. My corner was making sure my wraps was tight and our plan was set. This was where I first woke up with little problem and every night since then. After the first few days we had determined that I should hit and run as the opponent was a heavy hitter with the ability to take punishment. I had done this time after time, being the champ one had to fight on all comers. Seven days passed before things had begun to get weird.

First it was the music he came out to a song I had never heard with no lyrics mimicking more of classical music then anything. Normally fighters would pick music that would give them energy, but this was different. The tone was slow without draining energy from the audience. Violins played against piano and drums that would mimic a beating heart before the strings screech marked a supposed flat line. Every time I got to his music I could feel something saying how I should remember it. Vaguely familiar I applied myself in the days to see if anyone made an entrance to such music. From my agents to the fight bookers to my friends who recorded no one had heard about the haunting melody stopped by the sudden flatline. It was then my guess to figure what kind of person would use such a track. Intelligent yet comfortable within the confines of the cage.

Someone who preferred their normal nature then one aided by adrenaline. Overall it painted someone strong enough in their craft despite everything that began to creep me out. I was beginning to feel excited about my dreams wondering what little tidbit would appear next. People started noticing it too as I begun to train harder in efforts to properly tire myself out. Sick as my mind had been I was getting better shape after every night.

Finally tonight came despite training so hard I was feeling like a kid at Christmas. Closing my eyes my heart begun to race like my first fight only for the music to hit like a bucket of cold water. The first sounds of the keys and strings working through the melody did not slow the crowd. Someone from my corner saw him before I could to immediately get in my line of sight. Disgruntled I couldn’t arc my head to see as hands rested on the sides of my face while my cornerman spoke.

“Listen, this may be something we need to walk away from.”

I shook my head at such a notion. Whoever this was clearly was skilled in their craft. The look in his eyes as I replied filled me with something I didn’t know I felt for a while.

Fear.

The music had made me so eager that I didn’t notice the fighter enter the cage. My cornerman was looking down on me with what I would call a look of mournful pity. Watching my guy leave the cage I soon turned my head forward. A moment later I was kicking my sheets while my apartment filled with screams of terror. No champ could face the opponent and win. It was impossible.

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Rough Draft – Where the line is drawn

I am still on the way of finishing this but here is a passage from my past Nanowrimo attempt. Now about half done before it was pushed back due to personal issues.

It was my Friday in the work week two days off to do with as I please. Finishing my movie before moving on my way back to the store their was only one thing that caught my eye. In the parking lot there was a black SUV bright with the orange light reflecting off of it the model seemingly new like one of those undercover cop vehicles. It didn’t have anything that made me nervous except it just seemed out of place. Getting inside the store did it take me a moment to realize that something was wrong.

All of the lights were off with a small series of voices coming from the main storefront looking out through the windows on the swinging double doors. More then a couple heads were seen in over the top of the dry goods shelves Paul’s hat making him apparent from the people standing opposite from him. Faces were hard to see as the rest of the lights out on the main floor had also been turned off leaving everything to be illuminated by the rays orange light coming through the windows. Something was wrong because only workers should be in the store at these hours our closing time was a couple hours ago. Pulled back there was a glove over my mouth. I tried screaming but no sound came out. Looking up I could see Jake’s face looking out in the main store front a worried expression set as he pulled me away from the window.

“Listen” he whispered.

“We need to get to the p.a room. Follow me and be quiet.”

Having to walk by the people made me feel more then just a little scared.

“How are we going to sneak past them.”

“We aren’t. Close your eyes. Do not open them until I say so.”

Choking up on why I had to be blindfolded I did what I was told trying to figure out what was going on a small strip of cloth was given to me after he had tied it over his own eyes I felt comfortable enough to do it myself. His hand soon found mine as a bright light could be felt on my face the usual tiles underneath felt more like grass, soft yet strangely solid. Walking over what felt a couple feet the tile returned as the light darkened leaving me in complete darkness.

“All done. We can take them off now.”

Pulling off the fabric what I thought would be the back of the store was actually the p.a room. We could not have done it in a couple steps. It was impossible unless something had moved us.

Pulling four items form his pocket he took a moment fidgeting with them placing them around us in the shape of a square. Turning them on from his phone they looked no bigger then a small apple.

“Two way noise cancellation and stereo systems. Some of my earliest inventions, but still one of my favorites. We can talk and I will explain everything after this. Right now though whatever Paul can do depends on what the answers to some questions are.”

Everything seemed to be way outside my reach as the words rattled around in my head trying to make sense of themselves. These things seemed to be just madness yet I had been teleported so he was telling the truth. Looking at him I nodded my answer to let him know I was ready to hear the questions.

“Can you be trusted? If we have secrets that we have to show to fight back then can you be trusted to keep things secure? We will have to show you things no one will believe or even think possible.”

Nodding my response he turned around muttering something about how this could have been done better. Pushing the main button the speakers came to life

“Paul, go for it!”

Everything seemed to run slower as the guns were seen reflecting their shapes in the life before the three men fired off a shower of bullets knocking him back down in to the darkness. When they had turned around seemingly for us there was a worry that we would be next. Looking over Jake seemed to be more then comfortable. Seemingly knowing something no one else did as the three men turned back around their attention caught by some noise I take as everyone decided to move down that way investigating to see if he was gone. The bullets had hit their mark at least twice, and for some reason we were not helping him. Shaking his arm he just comforted saying his friend was fine. These two guys had teleported me and taken two bullets without even raising the eyebrow of the other wondering this could have gone on for so long. Bouncing around in the room waiting for some sign of life soon scared me.

From near the back of the aisle a shot of bright almost blue light streaked down the length hitting the three attackers knocking them out. Bodies dropping to the floor in various positions no sound was heard of the attack. Making our way down the stairs myself behind Jake it was soon apparent that the guys had come for some reason to end my coworkers. Stepping in to the aisles it smelled like a lightning storm had passed. Seeing the damage up close left me fearful for the whole experience. Paul was slumped against the waist high freezer near the back. Checking for a light in my pockets the only thing was the flashlight app on my phone running behind Jake it was soon apparent he was breathing the only remainders of the battle seemed to be the four bullet holes in his shirt and pants. Under him sat a small puddle of blood shining red against everything the blood trails from the wounds fresh to the floor. Looking for something to wrap his wounds with Jake was having some conversation with him before moving to the back of the store. Finding some paper towels and cheesecloth from the deli section as well as the bandage roll in the first aid kit there seemed to be enough to dress his wounds.

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Excerpt – “Personal Policies” – first draft

Here is another piece of writing I am working on. It will be a short story when everything is said and done, but here is a excerpt from the first draft. So here we go…

Watching the sun fall over the village all was as it should have been from the outside. Peaceful and many of the soldiers back home with their loved ones. That did not make him feel any better as he stood watching from his place near the window.

For as the moonlight began to glow did the questions begin to come en masse. Why did everyone hate them? Why did they believe they would do them harm? It was only when they had mobilized from the village that the battle truly began and all of his power to stop it was useless at the charge of the masses. She would not be there anymore to help him. Reported dead it was not long before proof of her demise came to him as part of the casualties list and it stung to know that the one he had trusted more then any other would be part of the next life.

Now the question stood was what he would do next. As the then child to the lord and now mayor of the village he had done everything to show them that working with them was the most effective strategy. With her death though it did not take long for the opinion of the town to drop losing allies from the other side of the sea. Shaking his head he moved over to the plush love seat lined of red velvet that they would always sit on as they read in front of the fire. Where the fire of warmth and happiness was now there was only a dark void seemingly all the good from the room in a manner not unlike a magic spell. Looking around the room memories of their happiness seemed to paint the room. Both of them talking about the artist of a painting on the wall while another had both of them sitting behind his desk shoulder to shoulder sharing a candle before she had turned inward taking their first kiss.

Beast folk as they were called in town had been part of the beginning of the future. A future based on happiness and teamwork for all versus what had actually transpired. It was dismal to think what was going to happen knowing that he did everything to make it good only for it to rot in his hands. From the central government he had been called a coward, a leech trying to make peace instead of trying to invade. All of the beast folk encampments had been removed burned in the anger stoked by the fear that only a people with so many differences could conjure on such short notice.

The knock on the door signaled his maid waiting behind the door.

“Come in.”

She bounced in happily no doubt from her own husband returning from the latest of the encampments turning to dust. Looking over as her long auburn hair was tied up in a bun he felt nothing but venom beginning to burn in to his spirit poisoning all it touched with the malice. His own voice was rough from lack of use hiding himself in the manor while he coped with her death. While the head butler had been knowledgeable of the relationship she had been less so with her own smile making him wish for the chance the one person that would understand him to return from the grave.

“How are you doing tonight, master? Some of the men are going to the pub and would like you to show up?”

His head snapped at the speed it turned looking at her with what had to seem a fiery glare as she was unused to such vileness in dealings. Standing up from the couch he motioned her over to the desk littered with papers in two sets of handwriting. Lit candle moving closer began to illuminate everything for her as his own eyes had been used to the night. Pulling from the bottom of the pile with practiced precision brought a small report from one of the forests surrounding the village. Handing it over the woman did the most to read it with little luck.

“Miss, do you know what builds this house and every other house in the village?”

She looked up for a moment thinking before answering, “Yes sir, wood.”

“That paper is part of a packet of them wherein they all say the same. Our forests are becoming ill from something and it is turning all the wood brittle making the roots weak. Do you know what happens in the next two years if there is no wood.?”

Listening intently she could only imagine where this was going. The eccentricity of her master had been talked about more as a joke at times seemingly married more to his work then to any lover.

“We trade for it? We can still hunt for fur and use it for farmland can we not?”

His smile seemed dark enough for her to catch it as he leaned down to open the drawer closest pulling out a stack of papers as tall as a draft bottle.

“Correct, except what happens when the entire forest within a week and a half is susceptible, showing signs of this disease? Many of our animals have began to migrate out of our forests if you have not noticed the hunters have not bagged any formidable game in a couple of fortnights.”

Nodding in understanding she had noticed the supply of meat not being so plentiful despite the spring season. She had just thought it was just a hiccup of life.

“I do not know. We go further to get what we need?”

A growl was stuck in his throat as what little of his patience seemed to blow itself out like the candle flame they were standing around. Throwing the papers across the room leafs of it fell softly to the floor while the remaining stack landed in the fireplace on top of the cold ashes. The simplicity of her answer made him want to scream and yell before it all drained from him in a heartbeat.

“My dear, let me ask you a question. I did not certify by any means the hunting of the beast folk so who did?”

The question had caught her off guard. While many thought he was just being bureaucratic about the action to hear he did not endorse the attacks at all made her eyes go wide for a moment that he had caught. Silence settled in the room before she had begun to voice her answer in the tone much like the small birds outside his window would use in greeting.

“Malley, sir. He had started the movement and took it upon himself to attack the beast folk. At the pub he made them out to be creatures of evil to be destroyed.

The light of another candle came in through the doorway held by an older man with mournful eyes. Head butler of the mayor’s estate had been a job he had worn with the greatest of honors, but seeing what had happened to his master as he explained to one of the younger maids. It was all very heartbreaking to see such a fall of spirit. As her voice died to catch his explanation he bowed his head slightly because he did not put together the pieces fast enough to help the younger man currently knuckling in to the desk in what seemed to be a mix of rage and sorrow. Turning back the mayor had nodded a greeting before falling in to the chair turning less of a person and more of a defeated pile of humanity.
“Sarah, is Grast correct?”

Nodding to him she could only wonder of the many questions that began to flit through her unhampered skull.

“Grast, you knew. You. knew me and her. You had heard.”

His hand seemingly tried to find the words he needed to use except their were none left. Turning his head Grast took a moment to remember the child that would look at him with tears in his eyes because a bird had died. Before exclaiming to make the town better and everyone happy. It seemed funny in a dark sense because although they looked like the same face the emotions were so much deeper.

“Miss Sarah. What you may not have realized is with the crisis with our timber and possibly even our food there were attempts to make a treaty with the beast folk across the sea. It had gone seemingly well they were more then ready to help us in our fair town’s time of need while all they wanted was to grow and explore this land that was so foreign to them. That is until the attacks began. Now with this set of attacks they will most likely counter not with the civic minded group that was over here but with the trained soldiers of the empire of more then millions .”

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Writing as of late

So as of late I have had a couple writing projects coming to an end including three stories. All of them have 2-3 thousand words. Two of them are for the Newgrounds writers guild and the last one is a writing exercise me and a friend online were doing for practice with the subject of romance. I will not have the full things on here, because three stories of that length could be a little bit daunting for some. So instead I will have just the starting paragraph to all three and if you like them then their will either be a place you can read them in full or I could just put it up later depending.

Duty Of The Heart – Romance

Watching the sun fall over the village all was as it should have been from the outside. Peaceful and many of the soldiers back home with their loved ones. That did not make him feel any better as he stood watching from his place near the window. For as the moonlight began to glow the questions begin to come en masse. Why did everyone hate them? Why did they believe they would do them harm? It was only when they had mobilized from the village that the battle truly began and all of his power to stop it was useless at the charge of the masses.

Fact Or Fiction – Newgrounds Horror 1

You never know when creatures like me are watching. We all exist outside of your fears no matter how much things like the news try to tell you every few days with some new crime that would shock even the police officers. Some of you reading this may even be seeing me very soon all comfortable in your room or local library surrounded by people you would think are fine upstanding citizens.

Pale Rider – Newgrounds Horror 2

He ran over the stone path. Orange light painted everything abnormal shades making him further on edge then he could be. Snapping back there was no body, no form behind him that could be seen following him. It did not matter though, because he knew he was in it’s view. The uneasy weight baring down on his spirit made it all so clear. Clearing the gate with a vault the time was ticking down before he could get to the door. Home was in sight as he took bigger breaths for the final push. Willing his legs to go faster. Everyone who would be able to watch wouldn’t even say anything for their were the kind of people to not get in to someone else’s affairs no matter what they were. If it was illegal or even slightly suspicious people would rather just close their blinds before saying something and he might die because of it.

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