In the back corner where Thole makes room for used tools, used wire, second-hand nails, even used books, there is a book entitled “Stress Holds for the Neophyte”. Most everyone who makes it to the far wall re-sale table thumbs through it. Picture upon picture, and sometimes drawings, of people, parts bent the wrong way, a road map to control, dominance, punishment. No one reads the smattering of text on the bottoms and sides of pages. But we speculate amongst ourselves who might have bought it new, abandoned it – before or after practice – here. We look for need in faces.
THE WEIGHT OF MARRIAGE
My wife was not abducted – she went willingly with the oboists. For a moment, the notes they were hurling formed the mathematics of music, and she began to dance. I had not known her to dance before. Into their clutch she danced, and, as the music fell snarling into disassociated whines, she continued to dance, the center of their affront. I am going as quickly as I can to salvage from the back of my closet my oboe. If I can catch them before town limits, it will not be a fair fight, but I have matrimony on my side.
TOLERANCE
We founded our town at the end of the earth. Not too close, as no one wants to slip into the abyss – but close enough that tour guides can ferry the curious to the edge, travel time justifying the price of a ticket. Our local economy centers around it, with earth-end hotels, restaurants, and souvenir stands. Visitors are amazed they can stand at the lip, return to town to exchange experiences at an ordinary coffee shop. Occasionally, a crowd believing the earth is round blows in. We don’t argue. They stay in our hotels, we let them be in error.
UNITY
There is an island in the center of the river where the River People plot against us. We cannot guess what evil taunts and challenges they are developing for us. Town Council is always thwarting one plot or another. Citizens have been briefly abducted by River denizens, come back to town with horrid description of the River People’s lack of humanity. We are hard pressed to find a logic to their designs. What we know is that they are in every way counter to ourselves. When out of-towners observe we have no river and no island, we explain our vigilance.
Quintessenceway: Before the World Awakens, the Heart Must
(A essay I wrote for my spiritual friend Carmen’s service, yes — but one rooted in bodily transformation, artistic revelation, and the hard honesty of seeing oneself clearly.
There was a day when I came to my mentor with my manuscript, carrying it like something alive, something I had been nursing in the dark. He read it, sighed, and told me my writing was a mess.
Not a novel, he seemed to mean. Too dense. Too essayistic. Too buried beneath itself.
At first, I could not understand him. My book was never meant to be an essay. It was a living world. Everything was already there: the sadness of a man, the rebellion of a woman, the children no longer naïve, the animals returning during lockdown, nature regrowing while the human world retreated indoors.
The core was there.
So why had it not surfaced?
Why was the wholeness hidden beneath so many layers? Why did the novel feel like an essay when what I had written was, in truth, a cry?
Something was blocking me.
I wanted to reclaim my authorship, but I did not yet know how. I could feel the book breathing beneath the prose, but I could not clear enough space for it to speak.
This is where Carmen’s Quintessenceway entered my life — not as a slogan, not as a shallow self-help phrase, but as a mirror.
Through her service, a person offers their name, date of birth, and email address, and receives in return a quintessence message tailored to them: a message rooted in the architecture of feeling, thought, action, and connection. It is a way of seeing the self not as a fixed object, but as a living pattern. A movement. A balance. A truth waiting to be recognised.
Then, under the guidance of my friend Carmen, the architecture of quintessence began to take form.
Feelings.
Thoughts.
Actions.
Connections.
Four elements. Four movements. Four gates.
When they fall out of balance, the self fractures. When they return to harmony, wholeness returns too.
And is this not what has happened to our world?
What else is the present crisis, if not the consequence of a great imbalance?
Feelings have been left undealt with for too long. Men, unable to face their fear, grief, and loss of power, turn toward the manosphere, toward fantasies of dominance, toward the worship of strongman politicians. Day after day, the politicians become giant babies, and the people follow them into infancy.
Thought has been misdirected. It is constantly steered away from the true core of life, from the force that holds everyone together: love, humanity, tenderness, language. Bloggers speak of optimisation. Teachers are pushed to prioritise maths and technology over the first miracle in a child’s eyes when they discover a snail on a spring leaf. The first knife thrust by education departments is often aimed at the humanities, at language, at the very arts that protect us from being eaten alive.
Actions drift too far from kindness. Too many are left unexplained, unexamined, detached from empathy at the core. The cold eyes of vegan yogis toward colleagues who refuse to give up meat. Educated blue-collar young men who carry essentialist ideas about gender, only to be laughed at until they turn toward Jordan Peterson or Charlie Kirk. A once pro-feminist Black Christian girl, the tenth child in her family, speaks of the pressure of childbearing, of “deep” philosophies she does not understand, and is sneered at by her white teacher. The cry she never speaks aloud hardens. In the end, she turns toward Christian fundamentalism.
Again and again, one side looks at the other as if they are beneath them.
Each contempt creates a counterforce. Each sneer pushes away someone who might have become an ally. Each unexamined wound becomes a doctrine. Each private insecurity dresses itself in religion, politics, purity, intellect, or moral superiority, until one branch begins to hate another.
And now we have arrived at a stage where the the light given the Morning Star, the fire stolen by Prometheus — threatens to leave the world.
Once connection is lost, we stand at the apex of civilisation and at the bottom of the animal order. The fire is still here, yes. But without love, without thought, without feeling, without connection, it turns into pure evil’s communion wine.
What can we do, then?
What can we do?
This has been a long rhetorical question for me as a writer. There was a time when I asked it and found no answer.
In my own book, during the first draft, when my mentor sighed and said it was “too essayistic,” I could not understand him. I thought: But it is not an essay. It was never meant to be an essay.
Only later, after I received the wisdom scrolls, each one distilled from theosophical canons, did I begin to see the cracks between the lines.
The big names I tried so hard to place in a chapter? That was my unchecked ego, the ego of someone who had graduated from a Russell Group university and still feared being dismissed.
The over-the-top intensity? That was the ghost of an ugly duckling — the girl bullied for eighteen years in China — still haunting my mind.
The five metaphors in a row that made my prose unbearably purple? That was my fear of being seen as empty inside, of being thought intellectually lesser.
The layers began to fall as the onion unfurled.
Had I not come to understand quintessence — that pulsing dot, invisible as air, fluctuating as water, warm as fire, and virile as earth; the power that keeps the inner universe breathing — I would never have heard my characters’ voices so clearly.
Once the masks fell, they began to speak.
The man whispered years of victimhood inside a coercive marriage, and years of being made a mule beneath an imperial machine.
The Cossacks were no longer cultural mascots or horse-riders in costume. They became people as simple and alive as someone screaming back at a neighbour’s horse because the horse screamed first — just as an American teenager might meow back at a cat because the cat meowed at them.
And the woman became whole. Brilliant and cruel. Feral and fine. Dirty and decent. Yet through all her virtues and vices, compassion and kindness remained the driving force.
Then came a sudden click in my head, a return to Rumi’s insight:
“Yesterday I was clever, so I wanted to change the world. Today I am wise, so I am changing myself.”
In the name of changing the world, the world has been tipped toward the edge of falling apart.
What have we failed to manage, even for a second?
In pursuing what looks exhilarating, rewarding, illuminating, we overlook the shadow part: the darkness before light is born.
This morning, even my neighbour said that, for spirits, this might be the worst time since the Second World War.
I switched off my iPad. I had just finished the day’s writing. I mulled over his sentence with a smile.
What we see in this reality may indeed be the nadir.
But as long as we are breathing, as long as someone is still able to say such a line, light is still here.
It is just an inch beyond what we can see.
It is waiting at the height where possibility and regrowth begin.
As the thought completed itself, I heard my characters singing at the back of my head. And I knew then that this was a revelation worth sharing: the knowledge of quintessence, the link to Quintessenceway, the place where each person can offer their name, date of birth, and email address, and receive in return a quintessence message tailored by my friend Carmen — and the understanding that the world does not awaken through domination.
It awakens through the heart.
Once the heart is awake, the world will be awake.
And whoever holds their hands over us through fear, hatred, or domination will become as weak as smoke.
Below is a taste of wisdom, and a pledge to the journey of light’s return.
Rumi
“Yesterday I was smart and wanted to change the world. Today I am wise — and I change myself.”
Augustine of Hippo
“Pride is the beginning of all sin.”
Confucius
“A wise man looks for his own faults; a foolish man looks for them in others.”
Socrates
“He who thinks he knows enough already knows nothing.”
The Path of Quintessence
Before you can change the world, you must see who you truly are.
The Mirror of Truth is the first law of transformation.
Pride is a distorted mirror.
Complacency is a silent poison.
The Path of Quintessence is movement, and anyone who stops moving loses the light.
By despising others, you despise a part of the truth within yourself.
The story begins in the polished corridors of Vanderbilt University, where autism research is treated as both a scientific frontier and a moral mission. Within this environment, Dr. Blythe A. Corbett built a career studying autistic minors, focusing on their stress responses, emotional regulation, social behavior, and the delicate architecture of identity formation. Vanderbilt and its medical center provided her with everything a researcher could want: grant infrastructure, IRB pathways, participant recruitment channels, and a steady stream of graduate students eager to attach their futures to a well‑funded lab.
Among those students was Dr. Kimberly Lanni, who completed her doctoral training under Corbett’s supervision and co‑authored research with her. Their collaboration was not incidental; it was formative, a direct transmission of methods, frameworks, and institutional logic.
The relationship between advisor and student becomes especially significant when considering the lawsuit filed in June 2025: Wisniewski v. Vanderbilt University, Vanderbilt University Medical Center, and Dr. Blythe A. Corbett. In this case, the parents of an eight‑year‑old autistic girl allege that their daughter, enrolled in a Corbett‑run research study, was subjected to identity‑related psychological assessments—including gender‑identity probes—without their informed consent. They describe a child who emerged from the study traumatized, confused, and in need of ongoing treatment, a child who experienced the research not as a neutral inquiry but as an intrusion into her sense of self. The lawsuit treats Corbett’s research as a form of clinical intervention, collapsing the boundary between experiment and care and revealing how easily a vulnerable minor can be swept into procedures she cannot fully understand or resist.
Years earlier, before the lawsuit and before the public controversies surrounding Corbett’s research practices, I encountered the other half of this lineage in a very different setting. In 2019, I underwent neuropsychological testing at Kaiser Permanente under the care of Dr. Kimberly Lanni. At the time, she was not a researcher but a clinician embedded in one of the largest healthcare systems in the country, a system where a single clinician’s documentation can shape a patient’s life for years. What unfolded during and after that evaluation would later echo, in structure if not in content, the concerns raised in the Corbett lawsuit.
I reported contradictory diagnostic narratives, chart entries I did not consent to, and the application of a “dangerousness” designation that followed me through the system like a shadow. Attempts to correct or challenge these entries were met with institutional inertia, as if the documentation itself carried more authority than the person living inside the body being described. The experience revealed how easily a patient’s identity can be rewritten within a clinical bureaucracy, and how difficult it can be to reclaim one’s own narrative once it has been overwritten by institutional text.
The parallels between the two situations are not a matter of speculation; they are structural. Corbett and Lanni worked side by side on autism research involving minors. Corbett shaped the frameworks that defined what counted as appropriate behavior, risk, impairment, or identity development. Lanni carried those frameworks into a massive clinical system where documentation becomes institutional truth. The same conceptual language that once guided research protocols in a university lab now informs clinical interpretations in an HMO, where a single note can determine how a patient is treated, believed, or dismissed.
The controversies surrounding Corbett and Lanni reveal a shared architecture of power. Vanderbilt and Kaiser, though different in mission and structure, both operate on the assumption that their professionals are reliable narrators of reality. Both systems tend to protect their own, to treat written interpretations as authoritative, and to minimize or reinterpret the distress of autistic and neurodivergent individuals. In both settings, the person being studied or treated can find themselves overshadowed by the institutional narrative, their own account of events struggling to gain traction against the weight of documentation.
The apparatus that emerges from these intertwined stories is not driven by malice but by structure. It is a system in which research ambition, clinical authority, and institutional self‑protection converge, often at the expense of the very people the system claims to serve. Autistic minors in research settings and autistic or neurodivergent adults in clinical settings face similar vulnerabilities: their voices are discounted, their distress reframed, their identities interpreted through frameworks they did not choose. The line between research and care, already blurred in the Corbett lawsuit, becomes even more porous when research‑born frameworks migrate into clinical environments through the careers of those trained within them.
Understanding this apparatus—its lineage, its incentives, its blind spots—is essential for imagining a more transparent and humane system. The stories of Corbett’s research participant and of my own experience as Lanni’s would-be patient are not isolated incidents. They are connected by a shared institutional logic, one that must be examined if it is ever to be changed.
Biographical Notes
Alex S. Johnson
Alex S. Johnson is an author, editor, and cultural critic whose work spans fiction, poetry, journalism, and investigative nonfiction. He is the author of The Kandy Fontaine Chronicles, Brides of Doom, Bizarrely Departed, The Vivids, The Doom Hippies, Drag Cola & Other Stories, and For Iris: The Los Angeles Poems. Johnson serves as editor‑in‑chief of Black Diadem magazine and as publisher and curator at A Collective Paw. His work has appeared alongside Patrick Califia, Carol Queen, Caitlín R. Kiernan, Michelle Tea, Jan Steckel, and Poppy Z. Brite. Known for his incisive cultural mapping and high‑intensity prose, Johnson brings a unique blend of literary craft and investigative clarity to his nonfiction writing.
Dr. Blythe A. Corbett
Dr. Blythe A. Corbett is a professor and researcher at Vanderbilt University and Vanderbilt University Medical Center, where she directs the SENSE Lab. Her work focuses on autism in children and adolescents, with an emphasis on social behavior, stress responsivity, emotional regulation, and identity development. Corbett has published widely and secured significant research funding throughout her career. She is a named defendant in a 2025 healthcare liability lawsuit alleging that an autistic minor was subjected to identity‑related assessments without proper parental consent during participation in a research study.
Dr. Kimberly Lanni
Dr. Kimberly Lanni is a neuropsychologist trained at Vanderbilt University, where she completed her doctoral work under the supervision of Dr. Blythe Corbett and co‑authored autism research involving minors. She later joined Kaiser Permanente, working within its integrated clinical system. In 2019, she conducted neuropsychological testing on author Alex S. Johnson, who later reported disputed diagnostic narratives and contested chart entries associated with her clinical practice. Lanni’s career reflects the movement of research‑based frameworks into large‑scale healthcare environments, where clinical documentation carries significant institutional weight.
The Rise of Internet Stars and the Reality Behind the Screen
Today, the internet has moved far beyond being a simple means of communication and has become an essential part of human life and a vast information space. With just a phone, a person can become known to the whole world and gain the attention of millions. In the past, it took years of hard work to achieve fame, whereas today even a few seconds of video can turn someone into an internet star.
In this way, a new generation known as “internet stars” has emerged. They are becoming increasingly influential in today’s society. Young people admire their style of dressing, way of speaking, and lifestyle. Social media further enhances this fame by presenting an attractive image: expensive cars, luxurious living, constant smiles, and apparent success draw people in. However, the reality behind the screen is not always visible.
One of the main reasons for the popularity of internet stars is that they appear closer and more relatable to ordinary people than traditional celebrities. Through daily videos, live streams, and posts, followers feel as if they personally know them. This creates a strong emotional connection. As a result, internet influencers can shape opinions, trends, and even people’s dreams.
Internet stars also have a positive side. Some of them encourage people to study, learn languages, and engage in sports. Others raise awareness about social issues such as environmental protection, charity, education, and mental health. Many young people have found motivation and inspiration through online creators who share useful knowledge and life experiences. In this sense, the internet has become a field of great opportunities where talent can be discovered regardless of background or social status.
Moreover, the internet has opened doors for creativity and self-expression. People who once had no opportunity to share their talents can now present their art, music, writing, or ideas to a global audience. This has made the modern world more connected and dynamic. Some internet stars even use their influence to support charitable projects and help communities in need.
Nevertheless, there is another side to the issue. Today, many people consider fame to be the same as success. Some internet stars resort to showing a fake life, creating artificial personas, or using emotions merely to increase followers and views. In many cases, the content people see online is carefully edited and designed to appear perfect. Expensive lifestyles, luxurious vacations, and endless happiness may not reflect reality at all.
What is even more concerning is that young people often perceive this as real life and genuine achievement. They begin comparing themselves with unrealistic standards and may feel dissatisfied with their own lives. Some become obsessed with gaining likes, followers, and online attention instead of focusing on education, personal growth, and real relationships. This can negatively affect confidence, mental health, and values.
As a result, it sometimes seems that a person’s online image has become more important than their inner world and true identity. Many people, instead of preserving their authenticity, try to create an image that pleases others. Artificiality is gradually becoming normal. In the race for popularity, honesty and sincerity are sometimes sacrificed.
Another important issue is that internet fame is often temporary. Trends change quickly, and public attention can disappear overnight. A person who is admired today may be forgotten tomorrow. Therefore, building one’s entire identity around online popularity can be dangerous and unstable. Real success should be based on knowledge, character, kindness, and contribution to society rather than temporary internet attention.
In reality, fame does not make a person great. A person’s true value is measured by their manners, thinking, honesty, and contribution to society. The number of followers is temporary, whereas humanity is an enduring value. A kind and educated person who helps others leaves a far more meaningful impact than someone who is only popular online.
In conclusion, internet stars have become an inseparable part of modern society. They can have both positive and negative effects depending on how they use their influence and how people respond to them. The most important thing is that individuals should not lose their identity while using the internet and should pursue meaning, knowledge, and values rather than appearance alone. Trends pass, fame is forgotten, but a person’s true character and good deeds remain forever.
Hilola Sharipova was born on June 30, 2007, in Urganch, Khorezm region, Uzbekistan. She is a student at Urganch Ranch Technology University, majoring in Economics. She has a strong interest in economics and banking activities.
She is also actively involved in sports, particularly handball. She is the winner of 1st place in the Uzbekistan Championship in handball. In addition to sports, she is interested in poetry and literature. Her book titled “Dadamnı sog‘inib” has been published.
Hilola knows two languages, English and Turkish, and she holds certificates in both languages. She is a very talented and ambitious individual with a wide range of interests and achievements.
An eponymous skateboard
My clamshell tilts to the left
like an offkilter ice cream
cone. Born & bred in the state
of Bosnia & Herzogevina,
from whence its name, Arch-
duke Franz Ferdinand. Also
from whence its major draw-
back, the fear of assassination
while wheeling down the road.
What the Dickens?
Nicholas Nickleby
escaped the pages
of that eponymous
novel & went off &
joined a boxing troupe
where he achieved
great success fighting
under the name of
Nickelass Knuckleby.
in bed, in lederhosen
Bertolt Brecht stirs beside me,
muttering something about Die
Moritat von Mackie Messer. On
the other side, in a mini dirndl
with white school sox, Lotte Lenya
murmers the words in a kind of
Sprechstimme, speak-singing the
English call it, as a means of dis-
guising the deterioration of her
voice. Kurt Weill is currently not
around; but the words, the mutter-
ings, impersonate his presence.
All this because it is extremely
uncomfortable sleeping in leather.
Even though it's soft, it sometimes
chafes the thighs, plus experts
warn that it stresses the material
& the seams. But I find that cer-
tain music will alleviate all dis-
comfort. Tonight it's Die Drei-
groschenoper. Tomorrow maybe
Bach, or Concierto de Aranjuez. A
few days in the nude will follow,
or up until the weather changes.
The / Manchurian Candidate / in another demographic
Project artichoke was a CIA
mind control program which
sought to determine if a sub-
ject under the influence of one
of many drugs could be made
to carry out an assassination.
Whiting moments, angry. (Psalm 69)
The Buddha said: "Touchy
people become offended, pay
their wrath forward." In
other words, some people
want shit to happen; & if it
doesn't, they do just enough
to make certain that it does.
Buddha won't be happy that
that's how it turns out; but
elsewhere, King David will
be overtaken by paroxysms
of delight. "Pour out your
wrath upon them; let your
fierce anger overtake them."
