My musings on therianthropy

This post is a bit of a deviation from my usual format, and it may make some of my readers uncomfortable. Before I begin, if this content offends or discourages you, I apologize and I promise that I have no such intent in this post.

Let me open up with something that happened to me.

I forget how it came about, but I wound up having a discussion with a therian friend of mine about Adam and Eve. The friend argued that in Genesis chapter 2, while Adam was looking for a worthy companion amongst the animals and could find none, he should've chosen the wolf as his companion (thus creating a grey area insinuating that he should've mated with the wolf (eww) or that he would've never sinned if he'd not needed Eve).

To most others, this notion would be hilarious (no offense intended, friend). However, to me, I was infuriated. I couldn't fathom how someone could come up with such theology to attempt to support a therianistic viewpoint. Fuming mad, I left my computer and went outside to think. I wanted to know the real reason why I was mad.

I stood outside in the freezing cold and in the dark, and prayed. I asked God to search my heart and show me why I was so upset with my friend for his views. I came to find myself angry not because his theology seemed so unsound, but because somewhere in my head, it sounded like something I somewhat wished myself (remember, I was a totemist for a long time). That led me to ponder--why did God make me human?

Let me throw some verses out here:

Romans 9:20-21: But who are you, a human being, to talk back to God? “Shall what is formed say to the one who formed it, ‘Why did you make me like this?’” Does not the potter have the right to make out of the same lump of clay some pottery for special purposes and some for common use?

This points out that God created us the way we are for a reason, and that because God is perfect and makes no mistakes, we are no one to tell him that our present form is a mistake on his part.

Jeremiah 1:5: “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart; I appointed you as a prophet to the nations.”

In-context, it's not saying that God has appointed us to all be prophets or teachers. It is however noting God's sovereign plan for our lives--one that was set in motion for us before we were even created.

Psalm 139: 13-16: For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.

This verse notes the intricate way in which God created us and the care he took in doing so. God didn't just slap a bunch of limbs together or regurgitate us into existence--he put us together intricately, and planned out our days.

Passages in scripture flooded my mind as I pondered my humanity. Why did God create me as a human? What purpose did he have in doing so?

I reasoned that, just as God plans out the days of his creations, he could have very easily seen what my life would've been like as a wolf or any other animal. He likely saw that I wouldn't be able to draw or sing or learn Japanese, or do any of the other things I can now. I would have family still, sure, and I may even have fallen in love. But my creativity, my ability to express myself in eloquent or artistic ways would not exist, nor would any such desire be present. You don't exactly see wolves playing Mozart or recreating the Mona Lisa!

God created us as we are because he saw the lives we would live, what we would learn, what we would do for His Kingdom in our own unique ways... the span of our lives as humans reflected his glory best--that's why we're human.

If you're not a theist, then consider this: If you're a therian and assume that your life would've been better if you weren't human to begin with, or that you're destined to lose your humanity somehow one day, what will you no longer be able to do that you can do now? If you can draw, will you be able to draw anymore? If you can sing, will you be able to sing anymore? If you can write stories or poetry, will you be able to do any of that anymore?

Humans are the only ones who can create and express themselves in such beautiful ways... why give that up or want to throw it away?

The Moment I "Got It"

Y'know, a lot of my posts are calls to action. Through my writing, it seems like I never just stop and reflect on how awesome Jesus is, I just try and spur myself to believe something that I need to believe. I'll say this--without the Cross, without Jesus, no matter how powerful my writing or language or whatever may be, none of it is ever going to mean anything. Ever.

I'm thankful, very thankful to the Lord for those "aha" moments, but really, there's times in our lives when we don't need "aha" moments from God, we just need to reflect on what we already know of the Lord: the simple yet beautiful fact that He sent His son, Jesus, to die on the Cross for a world of undeserving sinners like you and me.

I was saved when I was 7 years old, that is, I professed that Jesus was the son of God and that he died on the cross for my sins. However, at that age, even though I went forth for Baptism a year later, I wasn't "in love" with Jesus. Jesus was just someone I kinda knew, but didn't know or trust enough to really follow him, and that was reflected in the years to come, the years that I constantly write about in the blog posts below.

I would pray, if only religiously, almost every night. I guess I was doing it out of obligation or because I figured that it would help me look good to God... Love? I don't think I ever remember love. All I remember about my faith then is that it took a back seat to my fantasies of becoming a wolf. I started to care about Jesus, suffice to say I liked him, when I got a little older. Around age 16 or so, Church seemed less haphazard, but it still wasn't a place I cared a great deal about. I knew I was cared about there by at least some people, but I didn't seem to care that much about them.

In my relationship with the vampire girl I mentioned in a couple of posts before, I reached out to the Lord in desperation. I wanted to get the heck out of the world I'd plummeted into. I mean, who was I gonna be able to tell that was gonna be able to help me willingly give this sinful life up? I knew that I was in danger spiritually, and I wanted out.

...And I was set free. I was led out. President's day of 2008, I broke up with her, and in May of that year, I gave up the totemistic / occult-ish pursuit of becoming a wolf. I knew that if I really wanted to show Jesus I loved Him, I'd have to let it all go, and by then, I was willing to leave that lifestyle because around then, I really began to get it.

There was one moment, I think, where I really started to understand God's love for me, about a year before I gave up my sinful lifestyle.

My Dad showed me some random video about the love of God on his computer. I watched it, cried, and I snapped. I had to tell Dad what I was dealing with. I didn't know what the consequences would be (I honestly feared death), but something in me stirred and said "you've got to tell him." I wrote out everything I was doing in-depth, called my Dad upstairs, and I lied on my bed in fetal position, shaking in fear of what he was going to say.

He responded lovingly, explaining the concept of buffet Christians, and that I needed to have the Lord search my heart and show me that what I was doing was wrong. He didn't curse me, he didn't beat me, he didn't cry or call me a failure. He reached out and helped me.

He helped me. Jesus helped me.

Every single time I recall that moment, and really think about it, I cry. I can't help it. The God of the universe reached down through my Daddy and chose to help me instead of destroy me. He showed me He was paying attention and wanted to help me. He wanted to redeem me, wanted to reconcile me to Himself.

A perfect and holy God, who hates sin, loved me and called out to me, a boy who lived in sin and expected death from the hands of the righteous.

From that day on, the love of Christ began to unfold. From that day on, it slowly blossomed into more than a story or a religious fact. It became the truth, it became love. It became freedom, life, redemption, hope... it's everything. It has to be, because I want more of it. I want to know the Lord more. I want more of that love, and I want to give it back to Him.

It's a truth that never gets old, no matter how much I recall it, because it's a real, living love.

He is a real, living Love.

Mountaintop experiences gone idol... no more!

As Mark Driscoll described how people worship, they pour all they have into their idols. When they don't get what they want, or someone gets in their way... They get angry, others get violent.

I was angry. Fed up. Downright disappointed. I wanted that next mountaintop experience with God so badly... and day after day, for months, I never got it.

There would be some days, or instances where I'd get all weepy-eyed and cry and whatever, but more often than not (save for some instances where God did indeed reveal his glory in my suffering), I was just crying because I had an excuse to cry. I was feigning mountaintop experiences to get a temporary Christian high.

The highs let me down, so come May or so I started to distract myself. A lot. I became lonely, depressed, and yet, obsessed with social networks. I got interaction, but none of it was ever enough. So, I started more and more to try and fix my TF kink.

That didn't work either, and now I have a pawing problem because I fixed something that a filthy rag can't even remove a stain from (reference to how good our good is compared to Christ).

I've been very whiny to everyone. Facebook, ChristianFurs, and with the RPG Maker VX forums, I've pretty much just been using them to get script documents to make my games cooler (games I never finished).

Begging for attention, begging for some kind of high in life... and I never found any of it.

And then, I found the prophetic word. The Bible. I saw a sermon Mark Driscoll preached about people idolizing mountaintop experiences, and it rang so true for me. There was this also:

2 Peter 1:19-21:

And we have something more sure, THE PROPHETIC WORD, to which you will do well to pay attention as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts, knowing this first of all, that no prophecy of Scripture comes from someone’s own interpretation. For no prophecy was ever produced by the will of man, but men spoke from God as they were carried along by the Holy Spirit.

That's it. Right there. The thing I was missing all along. The Bible. I never needed to go looking for a mountaintop experience, or to look down at the crater I was in. All I had to do was read the Word... and cast down my idols that God might have spoken to my heart amidst my (mostly self-inflicted) burdens.

Praise God that I've begun to understand this... and, I'm sorry for whining so much.

"Forgiving Yourself"...?

I was recently linked to the following page : http://www.carm.org/questions/other-questions/it-biblical-forgive-ourselves. This article states that it is unbiblical for one to forgive themselves. It stated that there is /nothing/ in the Bible that talks about forgiving yourself. It states that when you do something that you regret, something that makes you feel horribly guilty, and you feel like you'll be living with it for the rest of your life, that it's not yourself that you've sinned against. You've sinned against God.

However, the Bible states over, and over, and over, that Jesus died on the Cross, bearing our sin and shame. No matter what horrible sin we've done, we've been forgiven, even if it feels like we've scarred ourselves for the rest of our lives.

The past that I lived, the strange, twisted past, even typing about it, or thinking about it makes me feel guilty. I feel guilty that I was in sin for so long (5 years), and still called myself a Christian. I feel guilty that I hated myself so much, that I hated who I was because I got made fun of all the time. I feel guilty that I went so far as to pray to spirits for power and not God. I feel guilty that I self-hypnotized myself, and would go on long treks outside and act like a wolf.

I feel guilty that I tried to let a spirit inside my body, in a sense offering my body to a demonic being so that I could escape who I was. I feel guilty that I hated wolves after I stopped it all, because they are God's creatures. I feel guilty that sometimes I still misplace my confidence in the idea of losing my humanity as a means to become a monster to get power and exude a beastly confidence somehow. I feel guilty when I dream of turning into a werewolf or whatever it is, and waking up and... (not gonna go there.)

I feel guilty that I was a Furry for a little while for the sake of finding confidence in a new identity. I feel guilty for wasting my nights sometimes, looking at comics and scenes on YouTube that depicted transformation. I feel guilty that I forsook my family and friends when I was younger because of my self-deprication.

There's... a lot of baggage that I have here, as you can see. However, I didn't sin against myself. I didn't do myself wrong. I did God wrong. I sinned against the Father.

My sins in my past are some of what put Jesus on the cross.

But, there's another picture here. Yes, I sinned. I did some really bad things, and I sinned against God something awful...

But despite my sin, Jesus loved me. Despite all my wrongs then, Jesus loved me. He loved me so much, despite all the things I did, despite my blaspheming, that he had nails drove into his arms, and he hung on a tree on calvary for me. He died for my sins and rose to life three days later, and promised that if I placed my faith in him, I would be set free.

He didn't just take "some" of my sins then. Jesus paid it ALL! Jesus took my sin and shame, and he put it to death, and promised me NEW life! If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has GONE!!! The new has COME! I am a new creation! You can be too!

The secret has to die!

For awhile now, as some of you know, I've chosen to leave the furry fandom. The way it looks, I don't know if I'll ever come back to furry--not because I don't think I can take it, but because I'll be met with the inescapable feeling that I'll have to hide it from people... and I hate secrets with a burning passion.

A lot of furries keep this a secret from their family, or certain friends, and even if they have told their parents, they can't seem to get approval. Why is this? I don't know... From what I can tell, conservative parents (err, some) immediately think it's some kinda cult thing. If they don't think that, they just think it's "weird," especially when yiff comes into the picture.

Furry, I believe, could be an AWESOME way to glorify God. However, hardly anyone seems to be doing that. Furry is kept in the shadows as a secret, and even a guilty pleasure at times. I firmly believe that the secret is destroying lives all around. Nobody shows their furry art to their parents, especially if it's TF (transformation) art or inflated furry art... at least, I didn't. Nobody's showing their parents stories they write or RPs they do.

Why don't they show them? Why don't they show it off to family or friends? Is it because it's "furry"?

There's no harm in artwork, stories, or heck even making a fursuit. No harm at all... so why do people hide it? What's the point?

Furry isn't what one is, it's one one likes to do. It's art, not some weird cult or a bad secret that should never be told.

The secret has to die... for the sake of family and friends alike.

Weight of what you are

I noticed a slight flaw in my thinking when I had that conversation with Nathan. Yes, it is true that being a furry implies a lot of bad things to those who actually know what it is, but at the same time the general public doesn't have a clue. Personally, it was (and at times still is) extremely difficult to talk about furry to anyone, because I immediately assumed the worst would happen if I told them, almost as if I were going around telling people I was a wolf again or something.

In a sense, because of the mindset I held whilst being a furry, that's partially true for me. Yes, I had a wolf fursona, and for seemingly good reasons that justified it (it was a means to remind myself of where God had brought me from--trying to make myself not hate wolves anymore because of wolves being one of God's many creations... etc.), but in all reality, furry was just another way for me to escape.

To be honest, being a furry would have been a lot more fun for me if I'd had different motives for "being one." That connotation right there, the idea of "being" a furry, brought me back to the ideal that I was something other than what God made me to be. The furries I know generally don't hold that mentality; it was poison that I was holding onto from my older days that corrupted my furry experience.

Anything and everything, if moderated incorrectly, can lead someone into sin, taking away precious moments in life that would otherwise be there. When I was asked to play with my little brother or sister, or watch a movie with family, or heck even eat with the family, I would say no more than half the time, because I was on the computer hanging out in CFF.

There was a carnal attachment that kept me there, one I didn't notice or even want to admit was there. From the day that I chose to call myself furry, I was sinning. Not because furry is bad, but because I wanted another escape, and my flesh wanted an escape, and moreover, another identity that would make it feel like I was stronger than I felt I was.

The furry identity I adopted became so much more than just a hobby, it became who I was as a whole. Furry wasn't a fandom for me, it was a race of people who were different from the rest of the world... which is exactly what I was searching for, a way to differentiate from other human beings somehow without holding onto the belief that I wasn't human myself, and not only that, a community where I could uphold this identity.

Let me ask you this: Are you involved in something, some kind of community or club you enjoy? How much of that community is part of who you are? How much weight do you put on telling someone "what you are?"

The only thing that should have any sort of weight or importance, I feel, is who you are in Christ. There's so much more worth in that... nothing in this world could ever give you any true lasting importance, importance and worth that will last until the end of the age.

Setting my priorities.

(I'll get to my prayer request in just a moment... but first, I'd like to point a thing or two out to anyone who has the spare time.)

Now, people as of late will argue that I'm never online. I would have to agree with them, considering my slacking off on housework has come back to haunt me. Dad's got me working in the yard and in the house, but with my staying up past midnight so often, I oftentimes have little strength to do what's asked of me.

I'm sure that very many like myself love spending time online. If it's not the internet, then, there is SOMETHING that people like me can't live without--games, cellphones, forums, the list goes on. We see God as important, we love our Father. We may pray every night, read our bibles, all that good stuff, but the time we spend doing what we feel we have to do, well... sometimes that time takes a little too much priority over everything else.

In my case, I've spent my whole life immersing myself in anything I could to live in a proverbial fantasy world. When it's not video games, it's either friends online or the internet in general. I shut myself off from my family, from people at school, and what little time I had to develop social skills was given to my imagination... and recently, it still is. I don't talk to people at school unless they happen to share a common interest (and those people are few, and I rarely speak to them as is... if ever.) I could care less for the jock, or the gangster, or anyone else. Faith? I don't even bother asking about it.

...And all this time, while I spent my life worrying about how to find my next "imaginary high", I threw away the great commission. I threw away what I was called to do... and I called myself a Christian?! If I could go back, right now, and see myself living the life I was then, I'd beat the living daylights out of me.

This really started to hit me when Mom got onto me about being a furry. She doesn't bash us because of the furry hobby, heck she doesn't even understand it. But because of all the time I've spent, just like the time I've wasted on everything else that I got my hands on in the past, she sees us all as escapist children who are trying to avoid reality at all costs. You all know that that is just not true of us furs, or heck any hobby group.

I realized earlier whilst working in the yard that I'd wasted my life trying to escape into a fantasy. Whether it was my video games or wanting to be a wolf and actually trying to be one or whatever, I was always, and until today, always trying to find a venue to get out of life. In all this, I missed one HUGE picture: the Great Commission!

All the time I spent wasting in an attempt to escape reality is time I could've spent building friendships. In the bible, a passage in the New Testament reads that Paul became all things to all men so that he might save some. In this, I have sinned something awful. I disregarded the interests of others, I secluded myself into my own world for the past 8 years... and it cost me a lot of potential friends, and it ruined a lot of chances that I could've had to share the love of Jesus, which is why we're alive in the first place, to live for our Father, and to share His love with everyone.

Even recently, when all these wonderful changes are unfolding and I'm growing more and more in Jesus each day, I still seek escape. Tell me, how is that gonna save anyone? I can't walk up to someone and say "Oh, look at all the faith points Jesus has given me. I'm such a good Christian and Jesus loves me." It just doesn't work that way.

My main thing in all this is: My priorities have been out of whack for a long time. My main priority, for the past 8 years if not longer, has been looking for a way to get into my fantasy world and stay there. That purpose is reflected in how I wasted in how I spent my time doing everything from playing too many video games to trying to turn into a wolf to roleplaying... everything was wasted.

I'm not saying those things are bad and evil and should never be done (well, the wolf thing was bad... don't do that :P), but... God should always be first. He gave you everything you have, gave me everything I have... and I should be showing my blessings to everyone I know through my actions and love for others, no matter who and what they are.

...So my prayer is that I keep God first, and that He will ALWAYS be my first priority... and I pray the same for every Christian fur and Christian alike.

Furries and the CFF

Quote:

o-o… Hi. You don’t know me, but for introduction purposes, just call me Kail.

I’m uhm… actually I’m an ex-therianthrope (wolf, go figure). I stopped when I was 17, but technically that was only a couple of months ago (in May). I still look at furries from time to time for personal entertainment I guess. I’m a little worried though… because well, one of the main reasons why I stopped is because God created me as me, not as a wolf… so it was wrong to try an turn into one. Not to jump onto anyone, but didn’t God also create man in his own image? In this… perhaps the ideal of being a furry is improper. God made us just the way he wanted, and (biblically speaking) He doesn’t look upon trying to escape our original design lightly, in mind or body…

*Shrug* I dunno. I mean, I picture a lot of furry-stuff in my mind from time to time, usually transformation sequences (I was a therian for 5 years. The idea kinda stuck with me.)

So, sir, if you could help me figure things out with secure, unbreakable biblical evidence, I’d really appreciate it. Thanks.

In Christ,

Kail

P.S. Please pray that I find a sturdy answer. -_-;;

This is an e-mail I sent to DracoDei in December, the 19th. It was still in my sent items folder...

I had my doubts about you guys, I really did. Big doubts. I thought you guys were totally nuts at first...

...and then I met you all.

You all have proven me wrong and destroyed the typical furry stereotype, and moreover, helped me grow in Christ in great extents. I don't find myself crying in contriteness anymore, so much as I find myself blessed and happy as I see God's blessings unfold.

You all have proven to me that growth in Christ IS possible, that in Him I can truly be strong... it's a miracle of the Lord that I found you all, and I don't care what anyone says against that.

I can hear Him say... It's a brand new day.

Ok, so get to the point! What did you do, anyway?

People are drawn to chaos for one specific reason--they want change in some way, shape, or form. Me, well... I didn't just want change, I felt like I desperatley needed it. In my younger days (about 5 years ago), I wanted the impossible to happen--I wanted power.

This want for power didn't spring off as an instant lust, it sprang from an innocent curiosity that most kids my age had--most kids wonder what being an animal is like. Me, having too much free time, got on the internet and actually looked to see if that was possible. To the shock of my 12-year old brain, I found articles that spoke of ways to make this happen--articles that spoke of shapeshifting.

Finding such articles seemed like an instant blessing for me. When I found them, I instantly printed them out, shut off the computer, and ran to my room to attempt a change of any kind. I sat in my floor, closed my eyes, and thought of what I wanted (I was trying to become a wolf of some sort). To my shock, my heart rate went up, the room began to spin, and my head started to hurt. This scared me half to death, and at the same time presented some sort of hope that this was actually achievable.

From that point on, as I was met with more insults at school, (or to support my chaos theory, as things got more hectic (building levels of chaos) in my life), I became more desperatley drawn to this psychotic dream. Soon, by 8th grade, I was making attempts to change at least every two weeks, and by second semester freshman year I was trying almost nightly. The violent, raging power of a wolf became more and moreenticing as life progressed... and like all things drawn to chaos, I constantly wanted it with an increasing urge to fulfill what I soon started calling "my dream".

I met a friend in another state that eventually admitted to having the same "dream". However, unlike me, he claimed to have actually gotten his wish, and was activley involved in frequent transformations. In some way or another he was able to make me believe him (more or less by telling me how it all happened), and this also helped to make me want to become a wolf myself--through the power of a wolf ghost/spirit.

Time went on, and by the time he had told me everything, I found myself with an apparition myself. The name of the spirit I will not disclose, nor the physical description (for the sake of keeping the memory of him out of my mind), but I will tell you that he stayed with me for a full year.

Had I not been going to church regularly, he (the spirit) would have possibly given me what I wanted, but at the price of my life sooner or later. At church, he would frequently say things such as "I don't want to be here, Kail... these humans will kill me," or "This doesn't feel right... I'm scared," or he would just flat-out refuse to go.

The next couple of paragraphs contain rather nonsensical details about what happened. Keep in mind that I don't have the same mindset as before, and left all such "theories" behind when I gave this all up.

On top of that, as crazy as it sounds (if it's not crazy enough already) he eventually told me he was hellbound. Either that, or my subconcious made me feel that that was the case. Nonetheless, this struck me with great fear, and I told him to leave and never come back.

Despite giving him and the powers he seemed to give away, I continued to search for ways to make my dream a reality. I experimented with ethereal substances and somehow rose the natural production (seemingly) of those substances in my body, in hopes that I would have enough "mind over matter" to make it all happen. At times it would feel as if I were extremley close, and at times it felt as if I had left my human self, despite still being in my own body.

Nevertheless, not once did a physical change occur. This may have just been the providence of God preventing it, or the likely chance that no amount of spiritual power could break the laws of physics (insert laughter here). This may be the case of all others who are attempting this, so keep that in mind. Even if something real and physical DOES happen (as it seemed to with my friend), you'll pay the price in some way later on. In some way or another, when chaotic states of being escalate to some level, some sort of price ALWAYS has to be paid (usually death, but it depends on the type of chaos the victim is going through).

My chaos theories were not what stopped me from trying to be a wolf. As I said in my first post, my actions ceased by means of divine intervention.

In the ending months of my actions, I chose to look more to God so as to ascertain his will. I prayed more, I started paying real attention in church for the first time, and in a strange but life-changing manner, my actions ceased with my hand reaching to heaven and my eyes practically bleeding (metaphorically) tears. For the first time in my life, I chose to fight the chaos in my life by giving it all to God Himself, and I experienced a feeling that NOTHING on this world can beat--the feeling of God's eternal love. I knew God forgave me for everything I did, despite the countless times I bashed Him and even loathed Him for not giving me my "dream". I knew God was saying "It's alright, no harm no foul." I truly felt like He cared, like he was really there.

This, readers, is the true reason I write to you--to tell you that your life doesn't need some sort of "magick" or any such thing to make it special. Want to know something real? Try really getting to know God and I promise you: You'll never feel the need for such things again, and your

What do you mean "One Once Bound"?

It is my scientifically proven belief (proven by pysicists, even) that every object, both living and nonliving, eventually turns to chaos. Human beings, however, are bound to a different kind of chaos. For example-- a child asks for a cookie and his mother says no. Chances are, despite being told no, the child goes for the cookie against his mother's wishes.

Before I continue to rant on about cookies, let me cut to the chase. We, as humans, are eternally destined to stray from proper direction. In lamens terms, we are bound to chaos.

Some, in their lives, choose to immerse themselves in chaos. Others choose to find a way to escape that chaos--usually by finding religion. However, even in the midst of finding "salvation" (in some religions more than others), people always find their way back to the proverbial off-road.

However, despite this, we human beings have a very powerful weapon against chaos. As much as people refuse to accept the truth (whilst being in great chaos themselves), that weapon is the unbreakable text... the voice of God: The Bible.

With the voice of God by my side, I was able to break the chains that kept me tied to chaos itself, and although I am attacked and twisted by chaos at times, the Bible always helps me find my way back... Now, how was I bound by chaos you ask? Well... that's why you're here, isn't it?