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Insatiable Sneak Peek
Her name was Dottie, her age was somewhere north of ninety, and she was what we at the sheriff's department called a "frequent flyer."
It was nearly seven P.M. on Friday night as I pulled up in front of her house. It had been a slow shift so far, mostly routine traffic stops and a few non-emergency calls, but in a small town like Hadley Harbor, that was the norm.
Dottie was definitely a non-emergency.
She'd called 911—this time—because she was positive someone had broken into her home this afternoon while she was grocery shopping, and while the intruder hadn't stolen anything, he had switched her living room furniture around. I hadn't even bothered with the lights on my vehicle.
"Be right back, Renzo." Leaving my faithful Belgian Malinois in the back of the Explorer—and the expression on his face told me he wasn't happy about that—I got out from behind the wheel and headed up the walk. From the window, Renzo watched me like a hawk, as he always did, but there was nothing dangerous about this call.
Still, it was good to know he had my back, no matter what.
I knocked on the front door of the traditional, two-story brick home, and less than ten seconds later, Dottie Jensen opened it and beamed at me, her dentures on full display. She'd probably been peeking out the window. "Oh, hello, Deputy McCormick. I was hoping it would be you."
"Hello, Mrs. Jensen. It's me."
She looked over my shoulder toward the street, where my K-9 unit was parked. "Didn't you bring your doggy with you?"
The same questions every time. I took a breath for patience and answered them. Again. "Yes, he's always with me. But he's in the car."
"Won't it be too warm for him in the car?"
"It's a cool evening, and we have temperature control in the unit."
"Wouldn't he like to come inside?"
"Why don't I come in and look around, and then once you've told me what happened and I have all the info, I'll let him out so you can say hello."
"That sounds lovely," she said eagerly. "Please come in."
She pulled the door open wider and stood aside as I entered the front hallway. The house was silent and smelled like a combination of furniture polish and whatever she'd made for dinner.
"Can I get you anything?" she asked. "A lemonade? Some cookies? Or how about dinner? I got some beautiful pork chops at the butcher this afternoon and fried them up for supper. Do you like them with applesauce?"
"No thank you, ma'am." Although hunger was gnawing at my belly, I had to stick to routine. Lonely old Mrs. Jensen would keep me here for hours if I let her. I felt sorry for her—her husband of sixty-plus years had died only a few months ago—and I always gave her a little extra time if I could, but I was off duty in about twenty minutes and wanted to get home in time to watch game three of the World Series.
From the front entryway, I glanced into the living room on my right, then the dining room on my left. Each room looked exactly the same as it had the last time I'd been there. "I understand you believe someone broke in?"
"Oh, yes. I'm just sure of it." Mrs. Jensen clasped her gnarled fingers together and opened her eyes wide. Her forehead wrinkles multiplied.
"Want to tell me what happened?"
She nodded and smiled as if I'd just crowned her Queen of England. "Yes. You see, I was in town shopping for groceries—I was picking up a roast because my son George is coming to visit, and his wife, Sue, never did learn to cook a pot roast like I taught her, but Sue was one of those career girls, you know, and I don't think she cared much about what sort of meals she put on the table at night." She lowered her voice and spoke conspiratorially behind the back of one hand. "Sue wasn't much of a housekeeper either, truth be told, but there isn't much we can do about the people our children choose. Do you have children, dear?"
"No, ma'am." I braced myself for the inevitable follow-up.
"Why not? Doesn't your wife want any?"
"I don't have a wife, either, Mrs. Jensen." Which I'd told her at least fifty times, and every single time, she reacted the same way.
"No wife?" She recoiled. "Why, you must be close to thirty already, Deputy McCormick."
"Thirty-three, ma'am."
"Thirty-three! Mr. Jensen and I had already been married twelve years by the time he was thirty-three. And had four children. We had six altogether, you know."
"I know." I thought about the cold beer waiting in my fridge and fought the urge to look at my watch.
"And we were married sixty-seven years before he passed. He died last spring. April ninth."
I knew that too, because that's when her calls to the dispatcher had started, with her "emergencies."
Sometimes she heard noises and thought someone was in her house. Sometimes an item was missing that turned up once an officer arrived and helped her find it. Twice, she'd claimed to have fallen and asked for help getting up, but on both occasions, she'd righted herself and answered the door when the officers knocked. On every occasion, she did anything she could to keep the responders in her house as long as possible, which usually involved offering food, telling her life story, nosing into their personal lives, and giving unsolicited advice.
She was a nonagenarian pain in the ass, and I already had a mother around to give me shit about being a perpetual bachelor—and she gave plenty—but I never much minded coming here and making sure everything was okay, even if it was just to make her feel less lonely. It was part of the job. It was what my dad would have done, and he'd been the most beloved sheriff this county ever had. He understood there was more to serve and protect than making arrests or preventing crime.
"Yes, ma'am, I was lucky enough to meet Mr. Jensen several times. All of us at the sheriff's office liked him a lot."
She smiled happily. "He was a dear. And so handsome. All the girls were always trying to catch his eye. Now, isn't there anyone who catches yours?"
"Not at the moment, ma'am."
"But don't you want a family?"
"I've got a family. I think you know my mom, Carol McCormick. She's a nurse over at Harbor Family Practice."
"Oh, of course." Mrs. Jensen nodded. "Carol is just lovely. I knew your father too. We just loved Sheriff McCormick. Both Mr. Jensen and I were so sorry when he passed."
"Thank you. I've also got a twin brother, a sister and brother-in-law, two nephews and a niece, and Renzo. Plenty of family around." I smiled at her and tried to move things along. "So when you came home from town, was your door open? Or unlocked?"
She looked confused for a moment. "Why would I leave the door unlocked?" Then she remembered, snapping her fingers. "Oh! Oh, yes. The front door was open just a hair, but I know I closed and locked it before I left. I'm all alone here, and even though it's a small town, you can never be too careful."
I nodded. "But the house was empty when you came in?"
"Yes. The rascal must have left after he rearranged the furniture."
"But nothing is missing?"
"Not that I can tell," she said, almost regretfully, twisting her hands together as she glanced over her shoulder toward the room in question, as if she was sort of bummed the family silver wasn't gone.
"Mind if I take a look around anyway?"
She looked happy at the suggestion and patted my arm. "Of course not. You go right ahead. Take as long as you want. And while you do that, I'll fix you a nice snack. Mr. Jensen always liked a snack about this time of night."
Rather than argue with her, I said okay and moved into the living room while she went in the opposite direction toward the kitchen. She moved slowly, her steps the cautious shuffling of a little old lady, but she hummed a tune as she went, and I knew I'd given her what she wanted—time and attention.
In the living room, there was no sign any furniture had been moved around. But in case my memory was faulty, I picked up one end of the sofa. The deep indentations the feet had left in the carpet told me it had been resting in this spot for quite some time. Possibly since 1951, which was, I'd been told several times, when the newly wedded Jensens had moved in.
It was a nice house on a quiet street in a peaceful town, the perfect place to raise a family. I glanced at all the framed photos crowded on the fireplace mantel, standing in rows on bookshelves, and clustered on end tables. A room-sized shrine to an entire century's worth of one family's life. A black-and-white wedding photo from the 1920s. Another from the fifties. Babies at christenings. Family pictures showcasing five generations of holidays and weddings and birthdays and anniversaries gone by. Children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren.
I thought of my mother's house, also full of family photos. But much to her eternal woe, there were only two wedding photos—her own and my sister Nina's. She did have three grandchildren and one more on the way, courtesy of Nina and my best friend Chris, who'd gotten married right after our first stint in the Army. Despite the fact that we both signed on for four more years after that and did two additional combat tours apiece, he still managed to knock her up twice during that time and twice more since we'd come home.
I didn't much like thinking about the logistics of that, but I did love being an uncle to their kids, eight-year-old Harrison, six-year-old Violet, and fourteen-month-old Ethan. Any day now they'd add that fourth to their brood, and my mother was constantly pestering me about catching up, as if we were in some kind of reproductive race.
In fact, she kept one section on her mantel purposefully empty, and she claimed she was waiting for me to get married and have kids so she could put something there. Every so often when I'm at her place, she'll find a moment to stare at it and sigh longingly, or dust it off with a rag. Last Christmas, I gave her a framed photo of Renzo and me and told her that was as good as it was going to get. She harrumphed, but she kept the photo on proud display. She loved that dog almost as much as I did.
"Yoohoo, Deputy McCormick, your snack is ready!" Mrs. Jensen called.
Exhaling heavily, I retraced my steps and headed through the dining room and back to the kitchen. Mrs. Jensen had set out a plate with a sandwich, some potato chips, and a pickle slice on it. Next to the plate was a glass of milk, and she'd pulled out the chair for me.
"It's a BLT on toasted bread, just like Mr. Jensen used to eat." She laughed and shook her head. "God forbid I ever forgot to toast the bread!"
"Thank you so much, ma'am, but I really can't stay. My shift is about to end, and I need to get back to the station and do some paperwork before I take Renzo home for the night." And you're cutting in to my baseball time, lady.
"Oh." She looked crestfallen. "Can you come back when you're through?"
Smiling, I shook my head. "I'm afraid not."
"Well, why don't you let me pack this up for you? No sense in letting it go to waste, is there?"
I thought for a moment. "I guess not."
"Wonderful." The smile was back on her face. "You just give me a minute to put everything in a lunch sack for you, and then you can be on your way."
"Thank you. I looked around the living room, but I didn't see anything out of order. However, if something turns up missing, you just let us know."
"Oh, I will," she said, pulling a brown paper bag from a drawer. "I always call the sheriff when I have an emergency."
And when you don't, I thought to myself. But I couldn't bring myself to be angry about it. I knew what it was like to miss somebody. It got to you sometimes.
A few minutes later, I had the lunch sack in my hand and she was following me down the front walk toward my car. Through the window, I could see Renzo's tail wagging in anticipation. I opened the door, and he hopped onto the grass where we stood, excited and happy. He wore a collar that said K-9 Unit, complete with a sheriff's badge.
"Sit," I told him, and he obeyed. "Good boy."
"May I pet him?" asked Mrs. Jensen.
She patted him on the head a few times. "How old is he again?"
"He's five."
"My, such a big dog for only five. He must weigh a hundred pounds!"
"He's about eighty pounds, which is average."
"He seems very sweet."
"He can be." Off-duty, Renzo was energetic and high-spirited and just wanted to play all the time, but when he was working, he was a well-trained, badass machine—fast, agile, aggressive, vicious if necessary, and loyal to me beyond comprehension. I sometimes felt like I had two sides to me as well, so we were a good match. He'd been at my side every day for three years.
"Can he have a little snack?" Mrs. Jensen asked brightly. "I don't have any dog treats, but maybe a cookie? For being so good?"
I shook my head. "Thanks, but working dogs shouldn't be rewarded with food."
"Well, we often encounter food items during searches and we don't want him to be distracted by wanting to eat instead of wanting to perform."
"Oh, I see." She sighed wistfully. "I suppose I'll say goodnight, then, Deputy McCormick. Thank you very much for coming."
"Goodnight, Mrs. Jensen. Thanks for the sandwich." I held up the bag as Renzo jumped back into the car.
"You're welcome. I put a treat in there for you, too, dear. It's not homemade, but my little grandkids always used to love them, and even though they're mostly grown now and don't come around as much, I can't seem to stop buying them. Silly of me, isn't it?"
"I understand." I still talked to my dad during ball games, as if he was sitting in the recliner just a few feet away instead of buried in the Catholic cemetery up the road.
"You're such a dear." She smiled, as if inspiration just struck her. "You know what? I have a granddaughter almost your age that I think would be perfect for you. Why don't I—"
"Bye, Mrs. Jensen." Cutting her off, I went around the Explorer and got into the driver's seat. The last thing I wanted was to suffer yet another one of this town's wanna-be matchmakers. Seemed like every busybody within fifty miles of here was convinced she had "the perfect girl" for me to "settle down" with. No matter how many times I said I wasn't looking, it never seemed to sink in.
"Aren't you lonely?" they'd ask.
"Not at all," I'd reply, and it was mostly true. There were times when I missed female company, a sympathetic smile at the end of a hard day. A soft, sexy body at night, somebody to please and play with. But my last breakup had soured me for good on relationships, and the few dates I'd gone on with "perfect" girls had only shown me how well some people could hide their crazy. My sex life was a bit depressing, but nobody ever said, Hey, Noah, I know this completely sane girl with a killer smile and a rockin' bod just passing through town for a night. Can she come over and blow you?
Until that day, I'd have to deal with a dry spell here and there.
I entered a few notes about the call on my laptop, and then pulled away from the curb. On the road again, I dug out the sandwich and took a bite as I headed for the station. I hadn't had a BLT in forever, and actually, it tasted pretty fucking good.
"She's not so bad, is she?" I asked Renzo. "A little off her rocker, maybe, but I guess she's earned it."
By the time I pulled into the parking lot behind the sheriff's department, I'd finished the sandwich, the chips, and the pickle. I remembered what she'd said about the little extra treat, and I dug around in the bag with my free hand.
I pulled out a Twinkie and laughed.
It reminded me of someone.
For as long as I can remember, I have dealt with extreme stress by eating Twinkies.
Like, a ridiculous amount of Twinkies.
It is totally juvenile and absurdly unhealthy and my arteries are probably already clogged beyond repair with delicious golden sponge cake and fluffy sweet cream filling, but I can't help it—there's just something so comforting about them.
However, not even my favorite Hostess snack cakes were going to take the edge off coming home on a Friday night to find my boyfriend of three years packing his bags.
"What do you mean, you're leaving?" I stared at Brooks in disbelief, watching from the bedroom doorway as he methodically stacked neatly folded, pristinely white undershirts in his suitcase.
"I took the job at that firm in Manhattan. My train leaves tonight."
"Tonight!" I moved into the room, my stomach lurching. "You're moving to Manhattan tonight?"
"Yes," he said calmly.
"But . . . but what about us?"
"Come on, Meg. You know there's no us anymore." His voice held no emotion whatsoever.
Usually I appreciated his unflappable demeanor—it was a good, calm yin to my more excitable yang—but I couldn't help feeling blindsided by this turn of events and a little annoyed he wasn't displaying any feeling at all. Three years was a long time, even if the last one hadn't been very good. "Can't we talk about this?"
"We have talked about this, Meg." Next to the undershirts, he added a pile of navy blue and hunter green boxer briefs—in all the time we'd been together, I'd only ever seen Brooks were underwear in those two colors. "We talked about it during the holidays, we talked about it over the summer, and we talked about it last month, before I interviewed in New York."
"I know, but . . . I guess I didn't think it was a real thing." The panic rose from my stomach to my chest. If Brooks really was leaving, this would be my third failed relationship in a row. That wasn't just bad luck. That was a pattern. A cycle. Maybe even a curse.
Brooks stopped halfway between his closet and the bed with a garment bag in his hands and looked at me, a serious expression on his handsome face. "You chose not to think of it as a real thing. I told you it was."
I chewed my thumbnail, knowing he was right.
"We've barely even seen each other for weeks." He laid the garment bag out on the bed and went back to the closet.
"Well . . ." I searched frantically for a line of defense. "You're a night owl, and I'm an early bird. I go to bed before you get home, and I'm always up and out in the morning before you. It's hard."
"That is all true." He returned to the bed with an armful of shirts on identical wooden hangers. "But that is not how a relationship should be."
"We've both been really busy with work too." Brooks and I were both attorneys, although he worked for the Department of Justice—last I knew, anyway—and I'd traded practicing law to work as a campaign strategist. Our jobs were demanding and important. There were late night meetings and early morning conference calls, tight deadlines and high stakes. "It's been hard to connect."
"It's more than that." Brooks started slipping shirts into the bag. "There's nothing between us anymore, Meg. We haven't had sex in months."
"That's not entirely true. We tried that one night, but you fell asleep. That wasn't my fault." Although it had sort of felt like my fault—Brooks had given it some effort, but had been unable to, ahem, rise to the occasion. Secretly, I'd been kind of relieved, but another part of me wondered why I didn't do it for him anymore.
"I'm not blaming you. I'm just stating the facts," he said. Brooks was always just stating the facts. "And be honest. Have you missed it?"
I bit my lip. I hadn't missed sex with Brooks, and he probably hadn't missed it with me. Things in the bedroom had grown staid. Boring. Predictable.
For a while I'd been telling myself to put more effort into it—buy some lingerie, talk dirty, offer to give him a blowjob . . . but I hadn't done anything to turn up the heat. "Maybe we could try harder," I suggested without much feeling.
"No, Meg. We shouldn't have to try so hard. We both deserve a relationship that doesn't feel like another job."
I stared at his shoes, expensive brown leather cap-toe oxfords, perfectly polished, an excellent complement to his navy blue suit. My eyes roamed up the tailored legs of his pants to his starched white dress shirt and tightly knotted striped tie. At six o'clock, his shave was still close, and his dark blond hair looked freshly trimmed—he had a standing appointment every three weeks. He was tall, toned, and handsome—straight out of a men's cologne ad in a magazine.
But looking at him, I felt no stir of physical attraction, no heat pooling inside me, no desire to rip that expensive suit off him and pounce. Nor, it was clear, did he feel the urge to pounce on me.
"I'll continue to pay half the rent until the end of the year," he went on. "That gives you time to decide whether you'd like to take over the whole lease, move to a smaller place, or get a roommate."
As the reality of being left alone again sank in, I lowered myself to the bed. "Oh, God."
Brooks finally stopped packing and sat beside me. "I'm not doing this to hurt you."
I took a deep breath and let it out, trying to sift through my complicated feelings. "I'm not hurt, exactly . . . I'm—I don't know what I am. Disappointed. Embarrassed. Angry. And maybe a little hurt. Were you just going to leave without even saying goodbye?"
He shrugged. "You know how I am. I didn't want a scene. I assumed you'd be working late as usual, and I could be in and out of here before you got home. I was planning to email you."
"Email me!"I gaped at him. "To end a three-year relationship?"
"Or call you," he added quickly. "I hadn't quite decided yet. But to be fair, Meg, our relationship ended a long time ago. We were both just too stubborn—or too busy—to deal with a breakup."
I closed my eyes, fighting tears.
"The last few months only made it clearer to me," he said. "We didn't love each other enough to fight for it."
Deep down, I knew he was right, but even though he'd said we, what I heard was I didn't love you enough to fight for you.
Maybe it was unfair to twist his words like that, but I couldn't help it. Especially since all my relationships tended to end like this—they just fizzled out. No real drama. No huge scene. No fight.
"How come I'm so bad at this?" I heard myself asking.
"Bad at what?"
"Relationships. I mean, I'm thirty-three already. Why can't I get it right?"
"Do you want the truth?"
"I don't know. Do I?"
"It's because you never put your relationships first. You don't even put yourself first. It's always your job. And I'm not saying that to attack you—I'm just stating the facts."
I would not miss Brooks just stating the facts.
Not that he was wrong. I'd always been somewhat of a workaholic. A perfectionist. Even as a kid, I did all the extra credit problems. Volunteered to lead the group projects. Read ahead in the book. I stayed up late making sure my homework assignments were perfectly correct and I obsessed over my penmanship. It made me feel good. Teachers praised me. My parents bragged about my grades and self-motivation. I won prizes and scholarships and essay contests.
Working hard and being successful was what I did best—and hadn't it gotten me what I had now? A law degree? A great job? A name for myself in a fiercely competitive field?
Of course it had, and I was proud of everything I had accomplished.
But I was beginning to see that it had come with a price.
As soon as Brooks was gone, I traded my work suit and sensible pumps for sweats and fuzzy socks, threw my hair in a messy knot on the top of my head, and headed straight for the pantry, where I kept an emergency stash of booze and Twinkies. Then I made myself a margarita, plunked myself on the living floor, and proceeded to consume a stupid amount of sugar, salt, fat, and alcohol while binge-watching Law & Order and trying not to think about the sad state of my personal life.
But two drinks and four Twinkies in, I thought I might need an intervention.
Desperate for someone to tell me I wasn't going to die sad and alone, surrounded by Hostess wrappers, I picked up my cell and tried calling my sister April. I had four sisters, but April was the one I'd been closest to growing up. My sister Chloe was actually nearest to me in age (only fourteen months younger), but she'd been such a handful as a kid, April had often ended up in charge of me. Even though she was only two years older, she was always the caretaker.
Plus, now that Frannie, the baby of the family at twenty-seven, was getting married, and Chloe was recently engaged, that left April and me as the last two single Sawyer sisters. (The oldest, Sylvia, had gotten married right after college.)
We hadn't talked about it much, but I felt like April might be the only one who'd understand me right now. Or at least help me make some sense of what I was feeling—otherwise I saw myself consuming a potentially lethal amount of golden sponge cake and fluffy sweet cream filling tonight.
When April didn't answer my call, I texted my friend Noah, a sheriff's deputy in my hometown and one of my closest friends from high school. We hadn't spoken in a couple months, and I hadn't actually seen him in a few years, but that's how it was with us. We'd go for long periods of time without talking, but once one of us bothered to pick up the phone or get on a plane, it was like no time had gone by.
Plus, he'd saved my life once. I figured he was kind of responsible for me after that.
Me: Hey.
Noah: Hey. I was just thinking about you.
Me: Have you ever responded to a 911 call that involved death by Twinkies?
Noah: Not specifically.
Me: Good.
Noah: Do you require emergency assistance, Sawyer?
Me: Not yet.
Noah: Ok. If you do, I recommend 911 and not my cell phone. I'm at least 700 miles away. And while Death by Twinkie is likely a slow way to go, I may not arrive in time.
Me: Would you at least try?
Noah: For you, always.
That made me smile.
Noah: But maybe you should lay off the Twinkies.
Me: FUCK YOU I HAVE TRIED.
Noah: Can't you take up some other bad habit?
Me: Like what?
Noah: I don't know. Something that will do you in faster. How about cliff diving?
Me: No way.
Noah: Playing with matches?
Me: Not interested.
Noah: Sword swallowing?
Me: You wish.
Noah: Hahaha. I was not referring to my sword. Although it could potentially do some damage, I assure you.
Me: You're a pig. I don't know why I texted you. GOODBYE FOREVER.
Noah: That's it? I'm never going to hear from you again?
Me: Would you even care?
It was a childish response, but I was not feeling the love from any direction tonight. I wanted to hear that I mattered to someone.
Noah: Don't be a dickhead, Sawyer. You know I would.
Immediately, I felt better. And a little silly.
Me: Sorry. I had a really bad day.
My phone began buzzing a moment later. Noah McCormick calling. "Hello?"
"Are you at work?" I pictured him in his uniform, sitting in his black and white Explorer. Short dark hair. Soft brown eyes with thick lashes. Neatly groomed scruff covering a solid jaw. And big strong arms. I'd always liked his arms.
"I'm home now," he said. "So what's up?"
"My cholesterol. My blood pressure. Possibly my time on earth."
His laughter was deep and resonant. "What's the matter?"
I eyed a fifth golden snack cake. "I'm stress eating Twinkies. But I also have margaritas," I added in an effort to sound more adult.
"Twinkies and tequila. Classy."
I took a big swallow and set the glass down. "I try."
"I failed at another relationship."
"With the boyfriend? What the hell was his name again, River?"
"Brooks." I took another sip. "But he's not my boyfriend anymore. He left me."
"Oh yeah? When?"
"Tonight. I came home from work to find him packing his bags." The memory had me grabbing that fifth Twinkie and taking a bite.
"Huh. Out of nowhere?"
"Not really. Things weren't great with us." I chewed and swallowed. "But it's so humiliating. I keep getting dumped. What's wrong with me, Noah?"
"Nothing, other than the fact that you're making me miss the start of the game."
"Maybe that's it. I'm selfish."
He sighed. "Sawyer, you spent all your college summers building houses for Habitat for Humanity. You're not selfish."
Tossing the rest of the uneaten Twinkie aside, I jumped up and began pacing back and forth in front of the couch. "Am I too picky?"
"You should be picky. There's a lot of assholes out there."
"Maybe I'm a terrible fuck."
"Somehow I doubt that."
"But you can't say for sure!"
"That's true," he said, laughing, "so maybe you should come home and let me take you for a test drive. Assess your steering and handling."
That made me smile. "Very funny."
For all his dirty jokes, Noah had never once tried anything with me. I used to wonder why, but eventually assumed I just wasn't his type. He went for hot blondes with at least a C cup. Back then I was a brunette whose bra size matched her math grade: solid A. (Although these days, I am at least a B plus, possibly even a C minus.)
There was one time when I was in grad school and he'd come to see me in DC that I'd thought he was about to kiss me. He was in the Army back then, and about to ship out for his second deployment, so our goodbye had felt kind of intense. But the moment lasted for a fraction of a second, and afterward I was sure I'd imagined it.
"Listen, Sawyer. Forget that guy. He's a jackass."
"How do you know? You never even met him."
"I don't need to meet him. He had a chance to be with you and he blew it? Fuck him. He's a jackass."
"Thanks." It made me feel a little better, even if it wasn't true.
"You're welcome. Can I watch the game now?"
"In a minute." I flopped onto the couch and stared at the ceiling. "Do you think I'm destined to be alone because I keep prioritizing my work over my relationships?"
"I don't know. Maybe."
I frowned. "That's not the right answer."
"What's the right answer?"
"The right answer is, 'When you meet the one perfect love of your life, you'll want to put that person first. You won't even have to think about it. You just do it—like a gut instinct."
"There you go."
"But what if it never happens, Noah? What if the guy never shows up? Or," I continued, getting more panicky by the second, "or, what if he does show up but I'm too busy and distracted to notice him? What if I'm . . . looking down at my fucking phone when he walks by?"
He exhaled heavily. "I think if you truly believe there is one perfect love of your life, your gut is gonna tell you to look up."
I closed my eyes. "You really believe that?"
He hesitated. "At least part of it. I believe in trusting your gut."
"But not one perfect love of your life?"
"That's a fairy tale, Sawyer. But if it makes you happy to believe in it, knock yourself out."
I sighed. That was a good question, actually. Did it make me happy to believe in that lightning-bolt kind of love, the once-in-a-lifetime kind that came out of nowhere and knocked you off your feet? Or was I just making an excuse for myself? Maybe I'd been expecting cupid to do all the work, when in reality love required more effort on my part. More lingerie and blowjobs.
"You still there?" Noah asked.
"Yeah." I sat up, swinging my feet to the floor. "Hey, don't forget I'm coming home for Frannie's wedding next week. Let's hang out, grab a beer."
"I'm around. And I'm always up for a beer."
"How's Thursday?"
"Good. I'm actually off this Thursday."
"OK, I'll call you when I get in. And thanks for listening to me tonight. Sorry I kind of monopolized the conversation."
"I've known you a long time, Sawyer. I'm used to it."
I grinned, realizing how much I missed him. "Asshole. Enjoy the game. See you next week."
"Sounds good. Safe trip home."
We hung up, and I set my phone aside, thinking that it was funny how I still thought of northern Michigan as home when I hadn't lived there for fifteen years. I pictured it—Cloverleigh Farms, where I'd grown up; the small nearby town of Hadley Harbor, where Noah lived; the Leelenau peninsula—the pinky finger of Michigan—with its beautiful beaches and deep blue waters and gorgeous rolling hills covered with vineyards and orchards and woods. It had been such an idyllic place to grow up, and yet I'd been desperate to leave it, to get out in the world where important things happened. I couldn't even think of the last time I'd visited for more than a day or so at Christmas or Easter. Maybe Noah's dad's funeral? That had been three years ago.
Guilt tightened my throat.
Work would always be there, but no one lived forever.
Suddenly I was feeling completely homesick, missing everyone I loved. The ticket I'd booked to go home for the wedding had me leaving DC on Thursday morning and returning Sunday, the day after the wedding. But now I wanted more than three days there.
Would taking a full week off anger my boss? Would I miss important meetings and the opportunity to weigh in on critical decisions? We were coming up on an election year, and—
Suddenly I heard Brooks's voice in my head: You never put your relationships first. You don't even put yourself first. It's always your job.
He was right. And I could do better.
As for myself, maybe a little downtime was what I needed. A chance to escape the high-pressure hustle of the political world and just relax. Stop trying to do everything and just have fun. The world wasn't going to implode if I took a vacation.
Jumping up from the couch, I grabbed my laptop from my shoulder bag, emailed my boss I'd be out of the office longer than originally planned but could work remotely if necessary, and changed my departure to tomorrow morning. I had to pay a hefty fee to the airline, but I didn't care.
Happy with my decision, I went into the bedroom to start packing.
I watched the rest of the game distracted by thoughts of Meg Sawyer. (It wasn't really my fault. The hitting sucked, the pitching was even worse. And Renzo could've fielded better, for fuck's sake.)
Plus, Meg had always been distracting to me.
Although we hadn't gone to the same school—she'd gone to public schools while my parents had insisted on Catholic—I'd known who she was. Everybody pretty much knew everybody around here. But we weren't close until the day I pulled her out of the bay at the public beach, barely conscious and white as a sheet, her body frighteningly limp in my arms as I set her on the sand.
Turning off the television, I took Renzo out to the yard one final time and looked up at the stars as I remembered the panic I'd experienced that day.
I was sixteen, barely old enough to be a lifeguard, but I was watching her closely as she tried to swim out to a friend's boat anchored offshore. The current was strong that day, and she hadn't been wearing a life jacket.
I knew instinctively the moment she started struggling—my chest went tight, my adrenaline spiked—and I jumped from the chair and took off running.
To this day, my stomach churns when I think about what might have happened if I hadn't had my eye on her. Granted, my reasons for watching her go into the water might have included the tiny blue bikini she was wearing, but I also believed in gut instincts, and mine were strong that day.
When it was clear she was okay and able to stand, she threw her arms around me and sobbed. At that point, I just hoped I wouldn't spring a boner with her bare, sandy skin on mine. I didn't hug her back, but she didn't care. That girl must have clung to me like ivy on bricks for five solid minutes, blubbering her head off.
From that moment on, I felt protective of her. I liked the feeling it gave me when I thought about how I'd kept her safe. I'd even call it a turning point in my life—after that, I knew what I wanted to do. Plus, my dad was a cop and I idolized him. So it was no surprise to anyone when I joined the Army right out of high school and later became a police officer myself.
"Come on, boy. Let's go in." I let Renzo back into the house, said goodnight several times before he believed me that more playtime was not happening this evening, and watched him curl up on his bed in the spare downstairs bedroom. My house wasn't big, but it was plenty of space for Renzo and me. Downstairs it had two small bedrooms, a full bath, kitchen and living room. Upstairs was the master bedroom and bath.
Ten minutes later, I lay back in the middle of a bed big enough for two, but in which I'd slept alone for the last couple years.
She was still in my head.
I hadn't seen her in a while, but she never seemed to change much. Long brown hair with some gold streaks in it during the summer. Gray-blue eyes that could change color depending on the light. Lean, athletic body with long, muscular legs.
I couldn't believe she'd been dumped by yet another DC douchebag—what the fuck was wrong with these guys? At least I'd been able to make her laugh a little. The sound always took me back to the early days of our friendship.
We'd watch TV at my house or hers (she loved true crime and police shows, which I kind of dug at that age too), or we'd call each other late at night and talk for hours. It was crazy, because I was always awkward and tongue-tied around girls, but conversations with Meg were easy—even easier than talking to my guy friends a lot of the time. I knew exactly how to tease her, and she made me laugh without even trying. I could even talk to Meg about girls, and she'd listen and give me advice. Then I'd listen to her complain about all the stupid, immature boys at her school who were only interested in girls who put out.
Of course, I was interested in girls who put out too, but I didn't say so, because I didn't want her to think that's the kind of thing she had to do to get a guy's attention. Because in addition to being beautiful, Meg was fucking amazing at everything she did. Straight-A student. Student council president. Varsity athlete. Sure, she was wound tight and Type A as fuck, but she had the biggest heart of anyone I knew. She was always volunteering for things and dedicating herself to one good cause or another. And it wasn't just for show—she cared.
She'd come over to my house and sit with my brother Asher, who has cerebral palsy and some sensory issues, and talk to him like he was just another one of her friends.
It might not sound like a big deal, but for Asher—and for me—it was huge. My brother was a smart, funny, brave, and interesting kid, but it was the rare person who looked beyond his disability to discover those qualities. And I understood why.
His speech was mostly incomprehensible to anyone outside the family. He used a walker or a wheelchair to get around, and he made a lot of involuntary movements. Sometimes he drooled. Occasionally he had seizures. Add to all this his oversensitivity to light, sounds, and textures, and his inability to express himself, and kids were wary. He was frustrated and anxious a lot, which often resulted in behavioral problems like tantrums or extreme reclusiveness. Needless to say, he struggled to make friends of his own at school and was often bullied and misunderstood. People would call him dumb, which drove him crazy—he wasn't dumb at all. He was perfectly smart. He just couldn't communicate the way people at school expected. And all those stupid IQ tests are geared for kids who can.
I'd been ferociously protective of him.
When kids made fun of Asher—and they'd been brutal—I'd snap like a wire in me had been cut. There were countless fights on the playground, in the halls, on the street. The elementary school principal probably had my parents' number on speed dial, I got sent down there so often (she and I have since laughed about my career path in law enforcement). But I just wanted him to be treated like anyone else.
So seeing him interacting at home with Meg, making her laugh, showing her a project he was doing on the computer, talking about a TV show he liked (he shared her interest in true crime) filled me with the best feeling imaginable.
She was way too good for any asshole who just wanted to get a hand down her pants, including me. Not that I ever thought of her that way.
Sure, there were times when I couldn't stop myself from jerking off to the idea of ripping that bikini off and fucking her expertly as she told me over and over again that I was her hero. Sometimes we were in the shower together. Or the back of my truck. Once, I even imagined us in the barn on her parents' farm. But who can control his fantasies at sixteen?
Or eighteen.
Or twenty-seven.
Or thirty-three, I thought, as my hand wandered down my stomach and slid beneath the waistband of my boxer briefs.
My conscience made a brief but valiant effort to speak up.
Stop it. Think about somebody else this time. The woman at Whole Foods who wears the tight yoga pants. Or the cute librarian with the freckles on her nose. Or, better yet, someone you don't even know—the model on the cover of the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue!
But it was no use.
Meg was always the best fantasy, because she was both familiar and untouchable. I would never let myself touch her. She had no big brother to look out for her, so she needed me to be that guy. Someone she could trust not to hurt her. Someone she could count on to be a good man in a world full of assholes. Someone she could turn to. I always wanted to be that for her.
She'd certainly been there for me during the tough times in my life. The day after my first dog died, she dragged my sad ass out of the house and took me to the movies. The day before I left for boot camp, she brought me cookies and a letter that she made me promise not to read until I was gone. Of course, I read it that night after she left, and in it she thanked me for saving her life and being such a good friend to her. She told me she loved me like a brother. She called me her hero. It put a lump in my throat the size of a baseball.
And I'd never forget how quickly she jumped on a plane when we lost my Dad. Just dropped everything to come home and be there for me. I even had a girlfriend at the time, but it was Meg's shoulder I cried on the day after the funeral. I'd held my shit together all throughout his illness and the long, agonizing days of hospice, and even during the final, wrenching goodbye. I'd let my mother and sister weep in my arms. I'd stayed solid and strong and took care of everyone and everything, because I knew that's what my dad would have wanted, and because I'd promised him I would.
The next day I'd told everyone, including my girlfriend Holly, that I just wanted to be alone. But when Meg showed up at my door with lasagna, a six-pack of my favorite beer, and open arms, I'd lost it. I wouldn't have dared to let anyone else see my tears, but I held onto Meg and sobbed like a fucking baby for a solid ten minutes.
Best part was, she never made me talk about it. She just let me cry, and after I stopped, we ate lasagna, drank beer, and binge-watched Law & Order. She loved that stupid show, no matter how many times I told her that it was totally unrealistic and predictable.
"I don't care," she'd insist. "I like the predictability. They always get the bad guy."
I was glad she'd reached out tonight, and even more glad that she was coming home for a visit. We had a rare and unique friendship that I cherished, and I'd never do anything to jeopardize it.
But if you think that stopped me from getting myself off to the thought of her licking Twinkie filling off my rock-hard cock, you're fucking crazy.
INSATIABLE releases November 11th! Preorder here!


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New Devil May Cry 5 Gameplay Trailer Shows V in Super-Stylish Action
Zhiqing Wan
Published on December 18, 2018 Zhiqing Wan
Home » News » New Devil May Cry 5 Gameplay Trailer Shows V in Super-Stylish Action
A new gameplay trailer for Devil May Cry 5 has surfaced. This time around, Capcom is giving us a look at the brand new character V.
The action looks pretty chaotic, as you might expect from a Devil May Cry game, and you can check out the new footage down below.
We don't know all that much about V at the moment, but what we do know is that he doesn't really like Dante and he has it out for our white-haired hero. Other than that, the trailer give us a good look at how V plays.
From the footage, it looks like he's able to summon a variety of animals (decked out in black, of course) to assist him in battle. He moves quickly, and has access to some rather devastating supernatural moves as well.
Overall, Devil May Cry 5 is shaping up to be one of the more exciting action games we can't wait to check out next year. We've gotten some hands-on time with it over the past year, and so far we're really liking what we're seeing.
There's an Xbox One demo available for download now, and the game is set to be released for PS4, Xbox One, and PC on March 8, 2019.
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redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


A good way to trip yourself up on property pricing is using the median price as a definitive statement on conditions. Median is, by definition, the middle point within a spectrum and (in real estate terms) is influenced by the number of transactions at values either above or below that point – the more transactions that occur at the lower end (say, first home buyers) the lower the median will appear, and reporting of this can influence commentary on whether that the market is rising or falling; it's great media fodder, but not of any real use to us as practitioners. The data we rely on is far more detailed and breaks down trends on property types which are more readily understandable.
No one "buys Melbourne", or Frankston, or South Yarra, or Geelong or any other suburb… It's much more local than purely the suburb, we buy a house in a street in a suburb. So when we hear commentary about values in a suburb being up or down, it's overly generalised and as consequence, a little dangerous to use as a benchmark for that area. There are markets within suburbs, and it comes down to knowing where in any particular locality to buy – even in the prestige areas, there are better pockets; and also in lesser regarded spots, there are very keenly sought after streets with prices well outside of common expectations for that suburb; so we need to move away from being caught up in generalisations.
In the wake of the Royal Commission evidence, and the exposure of some rather over-zealous lending practices, the extent of the banks tightening of lending criteria is quite compelling. This has added to a cooling in the market in most areas and recent analysis from Macquarie Research indicates that since 2015, borrowing capacity has reduced by over 10% for owner occupiers and in excess of 20% for investors. That's a big hit on spending power and it's contributed greatly to a lowering of budgets and buying expectations for the majority of purchasers.
Auction numbers (indeed property listings overall) have declined over past weeks with fewer offerings providing buyers with limited choices; and while this can be written off as the typical winter lull, with colder weather and school holidays affecting numbers, the reports I'm getting from the agents I talk to is that the level of enquiry from prospective vendors is lower than previous years, so this trend looks like continuing. There are still properties being listed and sold, they're just not all proceeding to auction, or in some cases, even hitting the open market and I'm seeing more opportunities being offered off-market with more sales taking place away from the public spectacle of the auction as an increasing ratio.
A lot of vendors have come to grips with the change in sentiment and realise they're not going to get the blow-out prices they might have 12 months ago and while realistic property sellers still selling very well, as they've recognised that they then become a buyer in almost identical market conditions, some are still to do so, and they're the ones left waiting for an after-auction negotiation to conclude or in some cases – begin. These can create opportunities for the ready and skilled negotiator but they pass fairly quickly so we need to position ourselves well to take advantage of them when they arise.
What's going to happen for the next few months and beyond?
It looks like the trend of lower listing numbers will continue and when combined with continued low interest rates, high population growth and low unemployment, this will keep some strength in the marketplace. This could easily translate into higher competition for the available stock, taking us from the current climate where buyers are holding back due to what they're reading in the media, into a market where they realise that they need to start making strong decisions again, and this could start a cycle of price rises once more – probably not to the extent that we've seen over the past 3 years or so, but the signs are that it's evolving into something more upbeat once again.
Remember, I'm here for you.
When you want advice or assistance with your next property move, I'm your advocate – and I'm only a phone call away.


Historical literature often suggests that Japanese people hold harmony and group solidarity in high regard. Tokugawa-period agreements, or what I call Bonds of Trust (tanomi shōmon), shed light on the mechanisms and guiding principles that buttress social cohesion in early modern Japan.
The Bonds of Trust were written promises primarily used to elicit and sustain cooperation within a group of Tokugawa peasants when they stood in resistance to their competing groups and samurai feudal rule. Divine oaths (kishōmon) traditionally served that role by using the threat of divine punishment as a deterrent to defection. The Bonds of Trust pose a perplexing problem, however, for those who view belief in omnipotent gods as an ideal, cost-free system for maintaining cooperation. The historical significance (and the puzzle) of the Bonds thus lies in the demonstration of the ability of Tokugawa Japanese to act for the benefit of others in the absence of both divine as well as aristocratic intervention. Focusing on properties characteristic of both kishōmon and tanomi shōmon, this talk provides a plausible theoretical explanation for the basis of Tokugawa altruism and cooperation.
The speaker is a PhD candidate in the Department of Asian Studies, who is currently working on her dissertation on the social history of early modern Japan. She joined the program after completing her M.A. in History at the National University of Singapore.
The dissertation, tentatively entitled Bonds of Trust: Foundations of Altruism and Cooperation in Early Modern Japan, is an inquiry into the evolution of trust and cooperation in Tokugawa Japan.


For many women and men, unwanted hair is a nuisance – or even a source of embarrassment. Until recently, laser hair removal has been uncomfortable, time consuming, expensive and provided results that were inconsistent at best. Now, revolutionary long-pulse high-energy Alexandrite laser is ideal for safely removing unwanted hair from almost all skin types. This laser is the gold standard for laser hair removal. Results are far better, treatments safer, faster and more comfortable than ever before. Combined with Candela's patented Dynamic Cooling Device™, this laser provides comfortable, safe and effective treatment by cooling the upper layers of the skin while effectively treating unwanted hair. The GentleLASE system is also effective for the treatment of pigmented lesions. A complimentary consultation is necessary before scheduling your first treatment to ensure that you will have a successful and painless procedure. Of note, there is no one laser ideal for all skin types. We may choose to use a different laser for dark skin for safety reasons.
Gentle Waves LED Photomodulation technology is the interaction of light delivered through LED's (light emitting diodes) to activate skin cells causing them to produce collagen. This technology converts light energy within the cells, similar to the way photosynthesis takes sunlight and turns it into food energy in plants. Gentle Waves technology can now offer a totally natural, non-invasive method of skin rejuvenation to reduce the visible signs of aging. Gentle Waves does not rely on thermal energy so there is no trauma to the skin, no pain or discomfort and no side effects. The main benefit is a smoother, softer and creamier looking skin with reduction in the appearance of fine lines and wrinkles, freckles, brown spots and skin redness. A series of six to eight treatments is recommended and you can be treated up to twice a week since there is no thermal effects to the skin. This is a gentler modality that is done by the Esthetician.
Other major benefits include: Painless, No anesthesia, No discomfort, No downtime, Very quick, Safe, and affordable compared to other anti-aging treatments. Gentle Waves has been scientifically tested and FDA submitted studies demonstrated a 60% global improvement in overall skin quality. In addition, Gentle Waves has been found to be extremely effective in improving the appearance of the neck and chest which has been difficult to treat up to now. Gentle Waves LED photomodulation can also be used in conjunction with facials and microdermabrasion.
Our lasers successfully treat small red veins (telangiactasia) and other red and blue veins that are 3mm in diameter or smaller. Laser Vein Therapy is light energy through a laser hand-piece, targeting the spider vein in a series of brief pulses. This treatment is virtually pain-free and results can be permanent*. The light energy is absorbed as heat by the blood vessels causing a coagulation effect, allowing the vessels to be reabsorbed by your body. Come in and rid yourself of those unwanted veins, and enjoy clear even toned legs!
*This treatment will not prevent future spider veins from possibly occurring.
Our Gentlelase laser is extremely effective for the safe removal of pigmentation in sunspots, Seborric Keratosis , and Cafe au lait lesions. It will leave you with a clear, smooth complexion. The number of sessions vary from person to person and also the area being treated. For the majority of people an average of 1 to 2 sessions are required to fade or remove pigmented lesions and imperfections. After the treatment, you'll be able to resume almost all normal daily activities by using adequate sunscreen and limiting sun exposure to the treated areas. . Between 1 to 3 weeks, the darkened leasions fade and/or flake off.
The Smoothbeam laser is a simple and effective treatment for acne in which a laser is used to target the sebaceous glands beneath the surface of your skin where the trouble is caused. It provides the perfect balance of controlled cooling of the epidermis with precise heating of the upper dermis. And for patients seeking smoother skin, Smoothbeam safely improves acne scars and softens fine lines and wrinkles around the eyes.
Treatment for the following: Acne & Acne Scars, Sebaceous Hyperplasia, Skin Rejuvination, Periorbital and Perioral Wrinkles.
Treatment Safety: The Smoothbeam laser produces an intense but gentle burst of light that selectively alters the sebaceous glands that are the cause of acne without damaging the surrounding tissue. After laser treatment the surrounding tissue is left intact and normal pigmentation occurs. The epidermis is protected during the treatment with the Dynamic Cooling Device, which sprays a cooling cryogen mist onto the skin before and after each laser pulse, which also increases patient comfort.
Scar Improvement: There is no current method or therapy that will completely remove scars and therefore we may advise using other laser modalities in conjunction with the Smoothbeam. The Smoothbeam laser can improve the look and feel of most scars by stimulating the collagen production in the deep layers of your skin. Multiple treatments are usually necessary to achieve improvement; the amount of improvement depends on the size and severity of the scar. Most patients notice improvement 6-8 weeks after their first treatment.
The aging process can cause your skin to become lax, pigmented and rough. Sun exposure and environmental assault just adds to the problem. Aging is inevitable but the VI Peel can make a difference in as little as 7 days. VI Peel is specifically formulated to rejuvenate aging skin and help prevent future damage. It softens fine lines and wrinkles, restore a more even skin tone, and smooths away rough skin texture. A simple, pain-free procedure.
For those who want maximum results and are fine with at least one week of downtime, the Matrix laser will deliver. As a person ages, their collagen production begins to decline which leads to the breakdown of the skin's underlying support structure. The daily exposure to the sun's harmful UV rays and other environmental elements can cause the skin to become discolored and premature wrinkles may emerge. Matrix Fractional CO2 laser resurfacing provides wrinkle reduction, overall tissue tightening and textural improvement. Treatments with the Matrix Fractional CO2 laser will enhance the skin's strength and elasticity. The skin will have a smoother, tighter texture, and pigmentation problems will diminish. Dr. Han has precise control over the intensity of the treatment and each individual treatment can be tailored to a specific need and allotted downtime.
This long-pulsed YAG laser is currently the fastest and most powerful in its class and is approved for skin tightening. The GentleYag safely penetrates deep enough and is excellent to deliver a thermal stimulus within the dermis, and thus initiate new collagen formation. It's ideal for treating mild to moderate skin laxity. It is also effective in tightening skin on other areas of the body. Unlike using RF energy to tighten skin, the 1064nm energy appears to penetreate sufficiently to exhibit the equivalent if not superior tissue-tightening results without the accompanying risk of fat atropy often associated with electrical resistence heating. It is nearly painless with no downtime and the best results are seen one month after the third session.
3The Vbeam laser is a 595 pulsed dye laser used to treat a wide range of vascular lesions including: periorbital wrinkles, facial veins, rosacea, port wine stains, hemangiomas and red scars. It can be effective in the treatment persistent red noses, thickened red scars, and sun damage on the neck and chest area that gives the appearance of persistent redness. Most conditions require multiple treatment sessions for optimal results. By selectively cooling the epidermis, while leaving the underlying target at normal temperatures, the DCD minimizes thermal injury, pain, and the risks associated with anesthesia without decreasing the effectiveness of the laser treatments.
How it Works: V-beam laser treatments deliver an intense but gentle burst of light that is absorbed by the blood vessels in the dermis. These blood vessels are reabsorbed by the body allowing for a cleaner more refreshed appearance. The procedure itself is not particularly painful, and most patients liken it to the snapping of a rubber band against the skin.
Scars Treated: The amount of improvement in your scar after Vbeam treatments depends on their type and severity. Mild to moderate scars from acne, stretch marks, and surgery may become nearly unnoticeable. Severe scars will be reduced but may still be present. Vbeam is used on darker scars that are red or pink. It is usually not effective on indented or light colored scars.
Treatment Safety: It is extremely safe. Side effects may include purple colored spots, redness, and swelling in the treated area. These usually do not last more than a few days.
Before Treatment: Avoid sun exposure. It is less effective on tan skin and not recommended for patients with very dark skin tones, because it is more drawn to the skin pigment than to the blood vessels and can cause discoloration. It is most effective on pale skin because of the contrast between the dark blood vessels and light skin. Do not take medication containing aspirin for 3 days before and 2 weeks after your laser treatment.
Recovery: Vbeam is a non-ablative laser. Since it does not remove a layer of skin, the recovery time is shorter than with ablative laser treatments. Treated skin may have initial bruising depending on intensity of the treatment. The skin may also be tender, similar to a mild sunburn. You may not see results for several weeks after treatment.


Happy Birthday, Pick A Charity: Are Facebook Fundraisers All They Seem?
Facebook recently introduced the birthday fundraiser; users now have the option to start a fundraiser for any of Facebook's 750,000 nonprofits to honor their birthday, and can invite their friends to donate. While this has raised a significant amount of money for numerous nonprofits, the efficiency of these public fundraisers is still questionable.
Personally, I am, what you would call, a birthday person. I absolutely adore birthdays and everything that comes with them, and start planning my own birthday months in advance in order to ensure that I enjoy the day to the fullest. Evidently, Facebook loves birthdays too. While I was scrolling through my newsfeed the other day, something caught my attention: in honor of my upcoming birthday, I could start a fundraiser for one of Facebook's 750,000 chosen nonprofits, and Facebook would donate $5 in my name. Facebook first introduced fundraisers in 2015, developed the function to include donate buttons in posts in 2016, and created the birthday fundraiser in June 2017. Since its debut, birthday fundraisers have raised over $300 million for Facebook's selected charities, ranging from causes such as cleaning and preserving the ocean to reuniting immigrant children with their families after being separated at the border. While Facebook used to keep 5% of all donations, the company has since decided to waive all fees (making an exception for personal fundraisers) to ensure that nonprofits receive the full donations. The fundraisers have to be shown publicly on users' profiles; users who create one do not have the option to keep the fundraiser visible to their friends alone (donations can be made anonymously, however).
Online fundraising has proven to be quite successful, as nonprofits are able to benefit from the network effect; meaning, reaching wider audiences through individuals' group of friends and friends of friends (Saxton and Wang 854, Luarn et al. 1). In fact, the network effect strongly outweighs the economic model of giving, which pertains that people would donate to nonprofits simply to aid in the nonprofits' monetary goal and for the good of the public (Saxton and Wang 854). Moreover, how people react to online charities is highly dependent on the nature of their networks; people whose friends have posted fundraisers, donated, or engage with nonprofits may feel peer pressure to donate themselves – either to impress their friends, increase their social standing in their circle, or simply to keep up with the status quo (Luarn et al. 1).
The downside to this, however, is that while people would gladly engage with public fundraisers, they do not seem to care much about efficiency of the campaigns themselves (Saxton and Wang 864). Contributors would sooner "like" a cause or start a fundraiser than actually donate, and when they do, their donations are usually quite small (Saxton and Wang 865). Furthermore, there is a tendency for them to lean towards impulse donating and slacktivism: i.e., people who have the right intentions and motives but not the drive to really follow through with their activism (Bower 23). This, in turn, creates an illusion of activism as donors are driven more by social factors to donate, in combination with a spur of the moment desire to contribute – a desire that wanes rather quickly (Lewis et al. 1).
In fact, Kristofferson et al. found that people would sooner go out of their way to contribute more substantially to a charity when their actions were not publicly observable (1149). They created two fake charity groups on Facebook, of which one was public and the other private, and found that people in private groups would be more than twice as likely than people in public groups to volunteer (Kristofferson et al. 1160). In another study they approached college students and asked them to volunteer over the course of a week. One group was given pins related to the charity to wear, another was also given pins but were instructed no to wear them, and the third group was not given anything at all. They found that members of the second group were more likely to volunteer than the other two groups, as members of the first group felt that they were already doing their part by showing visible support to the charity (Kristofferson et al. 1153). Kristofferson et al. claim that this is because people who contribute to a cause privately would sooner be inclined to act according to their personal values, whereas people who do so publicly may already feel that they have done enough by simply showing their support (1162). Furthermore, there being an initial token of support does not necessarily mean that donors will continue to contribute to a cause (Kristofferson et al. 1162).
How efficient is Facebook's birthday fundraiser, then? Bower suggests that companies need to reconsider the effectiveness of online campaigns, as people will lean to slacktivism as soon as their actions become visible to others (23). Contributing to the cause sooner becomes something they would do to impress their friends rather than out of personal interest. And if I'm being frank, my first thought when I stumbled upon the birthday fundraiser was not necessarily a strong desire to support a cause; instead, I wondered which of my friends would see my fundraiser and who would be the ones to donate. While I find Facebook's birthday fundraiser a lovely idea in principle, had the company's sole motive been to support charities they might have been better off adopting a strategy that works more advantageously in their favor. Nevertheless, raising some money for nonprofits is still better than raising none at all. Am I going to start a birthday fundraiser myself? Probably not, but who knows, maybe I'll change my mind when my next birthday rolls around.
Bower, Bruce. "Token Gestures: Online Causes May Attract Many More Clicks Than Commitments". Science News, vol 186, no. 1, 2014, pp. 22-26. Wiley, doi:10.1002/scin.2014.5591860122.
Buxton, Madeline. "Facebook Birthdays Have Turned Into Fundraisers, But Is That Such A Bad Thing?". Refinery29.Com, 2018, https://www.refinery29.com/2018/04/193319/facebook-birthday-fundraiser. Accessed 23 Sept 2018.
Nonprofits". The Verge, 2018, https://www.theverge.com/2018/8/16/17695712/facebook-birthday-fundraiser-non-profit-raised-millions. Accessed 23 Sept 2018.
Fleishman, Glenn. "How Facebook Devalued the Birthday". Fast Company, 2018, https://www.fastcompany.com/40550725/how-facebook-devalued-the-birthday. Accessed 19 Sept 2018.
Kelly, Heather. "Facebook Wants You To Say Happy Birthday With A Donation". CNN Money, 2018, https://money.cnn.com/2017/05/05/technology/facebook-birthday-donation/. Accessed 23 Sept 2018.
Kristofferson, Kirk et al. "The Nature Of Slacktivism: How The Social Observability Of An Initial Act Of Token Support Affects Subsequent Prosocial Action". Journal Of Consumer Research, vol 40, no. 6, 2014, pp. 1149-1166. Oxford University Press (OUP), doi:10.1086/674137.
Langone, Alex. "This Facebook Fundraiser Has Raised More Than $20 Million For Immigrant Families. Here's What Happens To Your Money When You Donate". Money, 2018, http://time.com/money/5317089/facebook-fundraiser-raices/. Accessed 23 Sept 2018.
Lewis, Kevin et al. "The Structure Of Online Activism". Sociological Science, 2014, pp. 1-9. Society For Sociological Science, doi:10.15195/v1.a1.
Luarn, Pin et al. "The Network Effect On Information Dissemination On Social Network Sites". Computers In Human Behavior, vol 37, 2014, pp. 1-8. Elsevier BV, doi:10.1016/j.chb.2014.04.019.
Saxton, Gregory D., and Lili Wang. "The Social Network Effect". Nonprofit And Voluntary Sector Quarterly, vol 43, no. 5, 2013, pp. 850-868. SAGE Publications, doi:10.1177/0899764013485159.
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text:
Das Verbraucherinsolvenzverfahren, oft auch IK-Verfahren genannt, ist in Deutschland ein vereinfachtes Insolvenzverfahren zur Abwicklung der Insolvenz (Zahlungsunfähigkeit) einer natürlichen Person (Privatperson). Es wird oft auch als Privatinsolvenz-Verfahren bezeichnet. Ein vereinfachtes Insolvenzverfahren wird auch durchgeführt, wenn der Schuldner eine selbständige wirtschaftliche Tätigkeit ausgeübt hat, seine Vermögensverhältnisse überschaubar sind und gegen ihn keine Forderungen aus Arbeitsverhältnissen bestehen.

Vorgeschichte
Im Jahr 1999 wurde die Konkursordnung durch das Insolvenzrecht abgelöst. Seitdem ist in der Insolvenzordnung (InsO) das Verbraucherinsolvenzverfahren geregelt.

Eine Restschuldbefreiung gibt es seit dem Inkrafttreten der Insolvenzordnung am 1. Januar 1999. Sie ermöglichte erstmals überschuldeten Personen, am Ende einer Wohlverhaltensperiode vom Rest ihrer Schulden befreit zu werden. Seit Inkrafttreten der zweiten Reform der Insolvenzordnung ab dem 1. Juli 2014 ist ein solcher Schuldenerlass bereits nach drei Jahren möglich. Diese gesetzlichen Neuregelungen waren eine Reaktion auf die zunehmende Überschuldung von wirtschaftlich nicht selbständigen Menschen.

Am 17. Dezember 2020 verabschiedete der Deutsche Bundestag das Gesetz zur weiteren Verkürzung des Restschuldbefreiungsverfahrens. Am 30. Dezember 2020 wurde die gesetzliche Neuregelung im Bundesgesetzblatt veröffentlicht. Der Gesetzgeber setzte damit die Richtlinie (EU) 2019/1023 in deutsches Recht um. Die wichtigste Änderung: Insolvenzverfahren, die seit dem 1. Oktober 2020 beantragt wurden, dauern nur noch maximal drei Jahre. Diese Höchstdauer gilt für Regelinsolvenzverfahren und Verbraucherinsolvenzverfahren gleichermaßen. Für vereinfachte Insolvenzverfahren gilt zunächst jedoch eine Frist bis zum 30. Juni 2025.

Bedeutung
Zweckmäßig ist ein Verbraucherinsolvenzverfahren für Menschen, die zahlungsunfähig sind oder denen die Zahlungsunfähigkeit droht, die also ihre Zahlungsverpflichtungen nicht mehr erfüllen können und die über das Verbraucherinsolvenzverfahren einen finanziellen Neustart erreichen wollen. Die Zahl der Verbraucherinsolvenzverfahren hat sich vom Beginn 1999 bis zum Jahre 2003 etwa verzehnfacht (2003 waren es rund 33.600 Verfahren in Deutschland). Grund hierfür ist nicht nur die wachsende Verschuldung, sondern vor allem die Möglichkeit der Restschuldbefreiung, die es nach dem früheren Recht nicht gab. Zu einem sprunghaften Anstieg kam es besonders dadurch, dass seit der Novellierung der Insolvenzordnung (InsO) 2001 eine Stundung der Verfahrenskosten möglich ist und auch völlig mittellose Schuldner ein Verbraucherinsolvenzverfahren durchlaufen können. Nach Angaben des Statistischen Bundesamtes wurden im Jahr 2011 insgesamt 103.289 Verbraucherinsolvenzverfahren eröffnet. Die durchschnittlichen Schulden je Fall lagen in den Jahren 2006 bis 2008 bei etwa 60.000 Euro. 2011 lag dieser Wert bei ca. 25.000 Euro.

Berechtigt zur Beratung in Verbraucherinsolvenzverfahren sind neben Rechtsanwälten ("geeignete Person") auch Stellen, deren Eignung hierfür behördlich anerkannt ist ("geeignete Stelle"). Welche Stellen geeignet sind, regeln die Ausführungsgesetze zur Insolvenzordnung (AGInsO) der jeweiligen Länder i. V. m.  Abs. 1 Nr. 1 InsO. Zu diesen Beratungsstellen zählen unter anderem Steuerberater, Wirtschaftsprüfer, vereidigte Buchprüfer und die kostenfrei arbeitenden Schuldnerberatungsstellen der Kommunen und Wohlfahrtsverbände und zertifizierte Verbraucherzentralen. Wurde zuvor vom Amtsgericht ein Berechtigungsschein für Beratungshilfe bewilligt, werden die Kosten vom Staat (Justizkasse) getragen und der Mandant muss gegebenenfalls eine Eigenbeteiligung in Höhe von 15,00 € inkl. Umsatzsteuer (vor dem 1. August 2013 10,00 € inkl. Umsatzsteuer) gemäß Nr. 2500 VV zahlen ( RVG). Die Anwälte können nach vorgegebenen Sätzen abrechnen. Ohne einen Beratungsschein muss der Mandant die üblichen Sätze des Anwaltes selbst tragen. Zu beachten ist, dass in zahlreichen Amtsgerichtsbezirken keine Beratungshilfe für Verbraucherinsolvenzberatung bewilligt wird, da wegen des Nachrangs der Kosten für die Beratungshilfe an die kostenfreien Schuldnerberatungsstellen verwiesen wird.

Voraussetzungen
Das mehrstufige Verbraucherinsolvenzverfahren gilt für natürliche Personen, die keine selbständige wirtschaftliche Tätigkeit ausüben oder ausgeübt haben. Darüber hinaus gilt es für solche ehemalige Selbständige, die weniger als 20 Gläubiger und keine Verbindlichkeiten aus Beschäftigungsverhältnissen mit Arbeitnehmern haben,  Abs. 1 InsO.

Verfahrensablauf
Das Verfahren lässt sich in fünf Schritte gliedern:

Außergerichtlicher Einigungsversuch
Zunächst bittet der Schuldner alle Gläubiger um die Zusendung einer aktuellen Forderungsaufstellung als Basis für den zu erstellenden Schuldenbereinigungsplan. Nach  Abs. 2 InsO sind die Gläubiger dazu verpflichtet, dem Schuldner auf ihre Kosten Auskunft zu geben. Der Schuldner muss mittels eines alle Verbindlichkeiten erfassenden Schuldenbereinigungsplans eine außergerichtliche Einigung (Insolvenzvergleich) mit den Gläubigern versuchen. Gelingt eine Einigung, entfällt das weitere Verfahren.

Hierzu muss, sinnvollerweise mit Hilfe einer Schuldnerberatungsstelle, ein Schuldenbereinigungsplan mit dem Ziel der Entschuldung, in dem die Leistungen des Schuldners an alle Gläubiger aufgenommen werden, erstellt werden. Dieser Plan kann alle Regelungen enthalten, um eine Einigung zwischen Schuldner und Gläubiger(n) zu erreichen. Wird dieser Plan von mindestens einem Gläubiger abgelehnt oder betreibt nach der Ankündigung des Schuldenbereinigungsplans ein Gläubiger weiter die Zwangsvollstreckung, so gilt der Plan als gescheitert.

Der Schuldner benötigt für das weitere Verfahren eine Bescheinigung über das Scheitern der außergerichtlichen Einigung. Diese Bescheinigungen dürfen nur die nach  Abs. 1 Nr. 1 InsO anerkannten Stellen ausstellen, dieses sind öffentlich anerkannte Schuldnerberatungsstellen, Anwälte, Notare sowie Steuerberater und vereidigte Wirtschaftsprüfer. Sobald eine Bescheinigung einer anerkannten Stelle über das Scheitern des außergerichtlichen Planes vorliegt, kann der Insolvenzeröffnungsantrag beim Insolvenzgericht eingereicht werden.

Gerichtliches Schuldenbereinigungsverfahren
Scheitert der außergerichtliche Einigungsversuch, kann der Schuldner beim Insolvenzgericht das Verbraucherinsolvenzverfahren beantragen.

Mit dem auf dem amtlichen Formular schriftlich einzureichenden Antrag auf Eröffnung des Insolvenzverfahrens ( InsO) oder unverzüglich nach diesem Antrag hat der Schuldner vorzulegen:

 Bescheinigung einer geeigneten Person oder Stelle über das Scheitern der außergerichtlichen Einigung mit den Gläubigern
 Antrag auf Erteilung von Restschuldbefreiung ( InsO) oder die Erklärung, dass keine Restschuldbefreiung beantragt werden soll
 Vermögensverzeichnis, Vermögensübersicht, Verzeichnis der Gläubiger und ein Verzeichnis der gegen ihn gerichteten Forderungen
 Schuldenbereinigungsplan.

Zweckmäßigerweise sollte zeitgleich, wenn er benötigt wird, der Antrag auf Stundung der Verfahrenskosten gestellt werden.

Bevor das Insolvenzverfahren eröffnet wird, prüft das Gericht, ob die Durchführung eines gerichtlichen Schuldenbereinigungsplans Aussicht auf Erfolg hat. Ist dies der Fall, werden der Plan und die Vermögensübersicht an die Gläubiger verschickt. Diese haben nun vier Wochen Zeit, dazu Stellung zu nehmen. Wird der Plan nicht von mindestens 50 Prozent der Gläubiger (nach Anzahl und Forderungshöhe) abgelehnt, so kann das Gericht die Zustimmung der ablehnenden Gläubiger auf Antrag der verschuldeten Person ersetzen.

Vereinfachtes Insolvenzverfahren
Wenn die bisherigen Bemühungen gescheitert sind, wird das eigentliche Verbraucherinsolvenzverfahren eröffnet. Dieses Verbraucherinsolvenzverfahren ist ein gegenüber dem Regelinsolvenzverfahren wesentlich vereinfachtes Verfahren. Es wird ein Treuhänder (Insolvenzverwalter) eingesetzt, der die Insolvenztabelle (Gläubiger, Forderungshöhe und Forderungsgrund) erstellt. Der Treuhänder hat weiterhin die Aufgabe, das (pfändbare) Vermögen des Schuldners zu verwerten. Natürliche Personen haben sowohl im Verbraucherinsolvenzverfahren als auch im Regelinsolvenzverfahren die Möglichkeit, Restschuldbefreiung zu beantragen ( InsO). Wird kein (begründeter) Antrag auf Versagung der Restschuldbefreiung gestellt, wird die Restschuldbefreiung angekündigt.

Wohlverhaltensphase
In diesem vierten Abschnitt tritt der Schuldner das pfändbare Arbeitseinkommen an den Treuhänder ab. Dieser verteilt es nach Abzug der Verfahrenskosten an die Gläubiger. Während der Wohlverhaltensphase hat der Schuldner die Obliegenheiten des  InsO: Er muss eine angemessene Erwerbstätigkeit ausüben oder sich um eine solche bemühen, die Hälfte des Wertes von Erbschaften an den Treuhänder herausgeben, jeden Wohnsitz- und Arbeitsplatzwechsel dem Insolvenzgericht und dem Treuhänder mitteilen und keinem Gläubiger einen Sondervorteil verschaffen. Der Treuhänder überwacht die Obliegenheiten des Schuldners nur auf Antrag der Gläubiger ( (2) InsO). Bei einem Verstoß gegen diese Obliegenheiten kann gemäß  InsO die Restschuldbefreiung versagt werden. Antragsrecht hierzu haben nur die Gläubiger (§ 290 InsO).

Schlussverteilung

Nach Ende der Wohlverhaltensphase wird die Restschuldbefreiung erteilt und die Verteilungsquote für die Gläubiger berechnet. Mit der Verteilung an die Gläubiger ist das Verfahren beendet.

Die Gerichtskosten richten sich nach dem Wert des pfändbaren Vermögens und betragen meist 300 bis 500 Euro. Der Treuhänder erhält für die Insolvenzverwaltung in der Regel 40 % der Insolvenzmasse (bis 25.000 Euro), danach gestaffelt, jedoch mindestens 800 Euro ( bzw.  InsVV) (zuzüglich Umsatzsteuer). Außerdem erhält der Treuhänder als Vergütung einen Anteil der vom Schuldner eingehenden Zahlungen (5 % für die ersten 25.000 Euro, darüber hinaus gestaffelt weniger); jedoch pro Jahr mindestens 100 Euro (zuzüglich Umsatzsteuer).

Die Kosten können auf Antrag entsprechend den Vorschriften für Prozesskostenhilfe gestundet werden, der Antrag kann mit dem Insolvenzantrag gestellt werden. Der Treuhänder kann zudem einen Kostenvorschuss erhalten.

Reform 2014
Als zweite Stufe der in Deutschland geplanten und teilweise bereits vollzogenen Insolvenzrechtsreform trat am 19. Juli 2013 das Gesetz zur Verkürzung des Restschuldbefreiungsverfahrens und zur Stärkung der Gläubigerrechte in Kraft.
Der Hauptbestandteil der Reform gilt nur für Verfahren, die nach dem 30. Juni 2014 angemeldet werden. Danach können sich die Betroffenen schon nach drei Jahren statt wie bisher nach sechs Jahren von ihren Restschulden befreien lassen – vorausgesetzt, dass sie zumindest einen Teil der Außenstände beglichen haben. Bedingung für eine sogenannte Restschuldbefreiung nach drei Jahren ist, dass sie mindestens 35 Prozent der Schulden sowie die Verfahrenskosten bezahlt haben. Insolvenzverwalter sahen darin jedoch eine hohe Hürde, die Schuldner nach den bisherigen Erfahrungen nur in Ausnahmefällen erfüllen können. Ursprünglich sollte eine Quote von 25 Prozent ausreichen, aber die Parlamentarier sahen dadurch die Eigentumsrechte der Gläubiger zu stark geschmälert. Wenn nur die Verfahrenskosten beglichen sind, ist künftig eine Verkürzung der Frist auf fünf Jahre möglich (§ 300 InsO idF des Vorschlages des Rechtsausschusses des Deutschen Bundestages). Ansonsten bleibt es dabei, dass die Betroffenen wie bisher sechs Jahre lang auf den pfändbaren Teil ihres Einkommens verzichten müssen.

Reform 2020
Am 30. Dezember 2020 teilte das Bundesministerium der Justiz und für Verbraucherschutz in einer Pressemitteilung mit, dass mit Wirkung vom 1. Oktober 2020 das Gesetz zur Verkürzung des Restschuldbefreiungsverfahrens in Kraft tritt. Damit wurden die Vorgaben der europäischen Richtlinie über Restrukturierung und Insolvenz (EU 2019/1023) in deutsches Recht umgesetzt. Die Richtlinie kritisierte unter anderem, dass die teils übermäßig langen Insolvenzverfahren in bestimmten Mitgliedsstaaten, darunter auch Deutschland, negative wirtschaftliche Auswirkungen zur Folge hätten. Für alle Verbraucherinsolvenzverfahren, die ab dem 1. Oktober 2020 beantragt wurden, gilt damit nun Folgendes: Die Dauer des Verfahrens verkürzt sich auf drei statt wie bisher sechs Jahre. Für Verfahren, die zwischen dem 17. Dezember 2019 und dem 30. September 2020 beantragt wurden, verkürzt sich die Dauer monatsweise.

Siehe auch
 Überschuldung
 Schuldnerberatung
 Schuldenregulierungsverfahren (Privatkonkurs in Österreich)

Literatur

Weblinks
 Statistische Daten zu Insolvenzen in Deutschland
 Insolvenzen suchen und Verfahrensfortschritte anzeigen lassen
 NRW-Justizportal: Was ist eine Verbraucherinsolvenz?
 Verbraucherinsolvenzen in Deutschland von 2008 bis 2020
 SchuldnerAtlas-Ausgaben von 2012 bis 2020

Einzelnachweise

Insolvenzrecht (Deutschland)
Schuldbetreibungs- und Konkursrecht

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaWikipedia


text:
Le pléonasme est une figure de style où l'expression d'une idée est soit renforcée soit précisée par l'ajout d'un ou plusieurs mots qui ne sont pas nécessaires au sens grammatical de la phrase, et qui sont synonymes.

C'est un mode d'expression aussi fréquent dans la langue littéraire que dans le langage familier. Dans celui-ci, la figure est parfois involontaire comme dans l'expression « monter en haut » et cette faute devient une périssologie.

Le contraire du pléonasme est l'oxymore.

Étymologie
Le mot, qui en dialectique fait partie du vocabulaire théophrastéen, vient du grec  / , qui signifie d'abord « surcharge ». Les grammairiens belges Maurice Grevisse et André Goosse estiment que pléonasme et  sont presque synonymes.

Pierre Fontanier (Les figures du discours, 1830) indique qu'il faut prendre l'acception de « plénitude » quand il s'agit de cette figure.

Principe du pléonasme
Le pléonasme est souvent constitué de termes qui abondent dans le même sens, pour insister sur un point, si l'on craint qu'il ne soit mal interprété ou pas assez énergique.

Exemple :

Il y a dans cette expression non seulement l'insistance à faire admettre sa bonne foi mais aussi l'effort de préciser le sens du verbe « voir ». En effet, quand nous disons : « Il me semble avoir déjà vu ça quelque part… », peut-être l'avons-nous simplement entendu. Le verbe « voir » ayant un sens très large, le personnage veut donc convaincre qu'il n'est pas l'homme qui a vu l'homme qui a rencontré l'homme qui a tué l'ours, mais qu'il est bien un témoin direct, un témoin oculaire.

L'idée d'aller en haut, de s'élever n'est pas la seule que puisse susciter ce verbe. La langue anglaise utilise elle-même sans complexe des up avec les verbes : climb, jump… Le verbe français, quand il s'agit de l'idée de « gravir », a naturellement besoin d'une direction ou d'une indication de lieu pour la « plénitude » de l'expression.

Le pléonasme joue parfois pour donner un équilibre à la brièveté d'un mot ou d'une locution, aussi utile pour la prosodie que pour assurer le sens :

 (il s'agit de la chose !)
 (et non avec ses pieds)
 (c'est plus satisfaisant que de dire brièvement : « Je tourne. », puisqu'il y a une différence entre « tourner autour d'un axe » et « décrire un cercle ».)

Le pléonasme d'utilité sémantique

« Aujourd'hui »
Le vocable usuel « aujourd'hui » est la concaténation de « au jour d'hui » où « hui », mot du vieux français issu du latin , lui-même contraction de , « ce jour », qui n'est pas passé dans la langue moderne parce qu'il était un hiatus monosyllabe à consonance sourde (contrairement à hier). Le pléonasme est venu lui donner corps. Ce pléonasme est doublé par ceux qui disent « au jour d'aujourd'hui ».

« Pouvoir »
La construction « pouvoir » + un infinitif peut être conjuguée au subjonctif, mode qui exprime déjà la possibilité. Cependant elle pourra être considérée comme pléonastique surtout pour les verbes du premier groupe puisqu'il sera utile pour l'oreille de faire la distinction entre le présent du subjonctif et le présent de l'indicatif qui sont identiques à certaines personnes.

 « Il leur faut repartir afin qu'ils puissent arriver à temps… » (le pléonasme remplace « afin qu'ils arrivent »)
 « Il nous faut continuer afin que nous puissions parvenir au sommet… » (« que nous puissions parvenir » est une discrète périssologie)

Autres
Le pléonasme sert à préciser le sens voulu d'un mot :

« Cette journée m'a été très pénible et je suis complètement énervé. »

Au sens premier, un corps énervé a été privé de nerfs, donc ici « sans réaction ». L'adverbe « complètement » force le sens de ce mot pour ne pas faire entendre le sens familier de « avoir les nerfs agacés ».

« Vivre sa vie. »

Il ne s'agit plus de simplement vivre mais de poursuivre en toute responsabilité son existence avec ce qu'elle comporte d'actions à décider et d'événements à affronter.

Le pléonasme peut utiliser la répétition soit pour raviver le sens d'un mot trop usité ou galvaudé, soit pour imposer une nuance de sens.

Ce procédé est connu des slogans publicitaires. Il peut être souvent assimilé à la diaphore qui se distingue de l'antanaclase car si celle-ci joue sur deux acceptions d'un même mot, la diaphore joue sur un simple décalage d'un même sens du mot.

« Huile L. : Elle est bonne, et en plus elle est bonne ! » (pas ordinairement bonne, vraiment bonne)

« Le roquefort, c'est le roquefort ! » (ce n'est plus le simple fromage mais ce produit raffiné issu de traditions ancestrales qui ont fait sa réputation)

« Une promesse est une promesse. » (ce que l'on fait miroiter est aussi ce que l'on doit tenir.)

« Votez tous pour le parti gagnant. » Ce slogan emploie la prolepse, qui est une anticipation. Si tous votent pour le même parti, il sera effectivement gagnant.

« C'est moi qui vous le dis qui suis votre grand'mère. » Molière (Le Tartuffe, I, 1)

Le terme « grand'mère », évident pour le petit-fils, devient la personne d'expérience et naturellement intéressée par les faits et gestes de sa progéniture.

Le pléonasme sert parfois à rajeunir une expression métaphorique :

Le verbe « cramponner » est de se tenir accroché avec force. Mais comme il est souvent employé dans un sens familier (« accroche-toi ! ») la locution adverbiale vient rappeler l'idée d'effort qu'il contient.

La redondance discrète
Le pléonasme, enfin, émaille discrètement non seulement nombre de conversations mais aussi de textes. Exemple tiré d'un magazine de vulgarisation :

Redondance qui aurait pu échapper facilement s'il n'y avait eu une construction vicieuse. Il faut lire « à une date antérieure à celle précédemment estimée. » Mais on peut se douter, alors, que l'estimation de la dernière datation connue précédait la nouvelle estimation. Cependant si cette redondance ne vient pas particulièrement gêner l'énoncé (elle apporterait même davantage de netteté), la phrase reste mal conçue. Seul un lecteur aguerri l'aurait peut-être perçu. Mais  aurait suffi.

Les magazines comme les journaux quotidiens sont une mine de périssologies plus ou moins perceptibles (pléonasmes inutiles) ; extrait (allégé) d'un portail populaire, sur les éoliennes «  » :

Où l'on rencontre un « risque qui menace » et un « impact notable » car s'il peut être plus important qu'un autre, un « impact » a, en principe, un effet certain.

« Sans attendre, [le ministre] pourrait lancer des  dans la fonction publique… ».[extrait d'un ]

« C'est à l'amour auquel je pense [chanson de Françoise Hardy]. ». Bernard Cerquiglini a justement relevé la redondance de construction (pour avoir le nombre de syllabes suffisant à la mélodie): « c'est à l'amour que je pense » (sentiment, passion) ou « c'est l'amour auquel je pense » (être aimé, liaison amoureuse), formules qui ont chacune leur signification. Le titre de la chanson peut faire douter du sens voulu, mais le texte fait référence à un être idéalisé qu'on croit avoir rencontré.

Rôle dynamique du pléonasme
Mais c'est dans son rôle dynamique que le pléonasme sera éminent pour donner de l'énergie à une expression et qu'il acquiert tout à fait sa qualité de figure de style.

Fontanier nous rappelle à ce sujet deux fleurons de la langue française qui nous viennent du Télémaque de Fénelon et qui, sans que l'on y trouve à redire, sont pratiquement passés dans la langue :

On se forme ici l'image des cheveux droits au-dessus d'un visage blafard, et celle qui concrétise les veines bleuissant et se durcissant dans l'effroi. L'imagination du lecteur a eu besoin d'un levier, d'un détail déclencheur, bien que superflu pour le sens général.

Dans le même esprit : « applaudir des deux mains » fait la distinction entre ceux qui battent mollement des mains (l'une tapant l'autre) et ceux qui sont plus enthousiastes.

Autre citation par Fontanier :

C'est le type d'illustration où une simple redondance (« voir de ses yeux ») grâce à un contexte bien défini amplifie le sens général : je veux moi-même y assister, ne pas le manquer, être au premier rang et me repaître de ce spectacle/

Exemple classique tiré d'Iphigénie (Racine) :

Il illustre un pléonasme avec un pronom personnel. Ce type de pléonasme est fréquent mais pas toujours probant. Chez Racine, Achille souligne fortement son désagrément et le peu d'intérêt qu'il prend à l'entreprise préparée par Agamemnon.
Autre exemple cité par Fontanier :

La redondance « parler » et « ne pas se taire » suggère un sens bien plus fort que celui de simplement parler. Ne pas se taire se traduit ici par continuer à parler malgré les empêchements et les interdictions (réf. : Tais-toi !). À ce sujet, Pierre Fontanier rappelle le propos de Voltaire qui donne une critique de l'évidence parler et ne pas se taire, non dépourvue de mauvaise foi puisqu'il s'agit de se moquer de cet ouvrage.
Dans le domaine poétique, la redondance peut être d'un emploi riche d'effets :

L'adjectif qualificatif, par contraste, souligne la qualité première de la neige quand on la regarde : sa blancheur étincelante.
Un adjectif peut donc rappeler les qualités sensorielles d'une chose que son seul nom ne suggère plus guère :
 « L'azur bleu » Mallarmé
 « L'onde humide »
 « Un bouquet de houx vert » Hugo

Le pléonasme est surtout efficace comme figure dynamique et il supporte rarement l'analyse à froid. Dans le parler familier, les redondances sont plus courantes qu'on ne le pense et passent la plupart du temps inaperçues dans le feu de la conversation. Le contexte sera donc toujours déterminant pour juger de la justesse et de l'intérêt de l'expression pléonastique.

Il peut aussi être employé au pied de la lettre, de manière humoristique.

Les défauts du pléonasme

La périssologie

Du grec perissologia : excès de minutie, verbiage.

C'est un ajout de détails qui font redondance et n'apportent rien de nouveau, sinon de la lourdeur dans l'expression. Un pléonasme sans effet, en quelque sorte. Elle est souvent le résultat d'un affaiblissement, d'une altération, voire de l'ignorance du sens d'un mot.

Morier donne la phrase :
.
 En effet, l'adverbe « trop » est de trop car l'idée d'un excès est déjà illustrée par le verbe « fourmiller ».
Le langage courant nous fournit chaque jour d'autres exemples. Certaines expressions sont problématiques :
« Optimiser au maximum. ».
 La locution « au maximum » présente en plus une ambiguïté : faut-il ici comprendre « le mieux possible » ou « aux meilleures conditions » (dans ce cas, ce serait une périssologie) ? La phrase devra être tournée autrement, comme pour des alliances telles que « réduire au maximum/au minimum »
Dans le domaine poétique, ce type de redondance, souvent discrète, aide à contenter les contraintes de la métrique :

La périssologie est aussi tributaire de la perspective du récit :

On objectera qu'on ne peut lire un livre qu'une fois qu'il est ouvert. Cependant, tandis que « lire » ne suggère guère que la tête d'un personnage penché sur son ouvrage, la proposition ouvert sur les genoux porte l'imagination sur le livre tenu ouvert et serré de chaque côté par les mains. L'erreur aurait plutôt été d'écrire : « Il feuilletait un livre ouvert sur les genoux. » La description est ciblée sur le mouvement du livre feuilleté, lequel est forcément ouvert. Nous voyons là encore quelle différence se fait entre pléonasme et périssologie.

La battologie
D'un roi antique Battos, qui était bègue.

On trouvera la plupart du temps ce mot comme synonyme du premier. Il illustre la répétition d'une même idée sous des formes à peine différentes et sans grande originalité. Un peu comme un bègue qui contournerait un mot qu'il n'arrive pas à émettre par d'autres plus faciles à prononcer. On devine que dans ce style redondant les périphrases laborieuses et les inattentions seront courantes.

À ce propos, voici deux exemples, le premier cité par Pierre Fontanier :

 On relève plutôt dans ce distique une négligence de style. Si Boileau s'était attentivement relu, il aurait pu mieux écrire : « … et, les cherchant des yeux… De joie, les découvrant… »

 Se souvenir de la définition d'un gave.

Le plus souvent, elle se retrouve dans la conversation et trahit soit l'embarras de l'expression, soit le délai de mise en ordre des idées, soit le temps d'une respiration de l'élocution, etc.  (interview de L. J., Le Monde de la musique)

On trouve aussi des formules inutiles dans les poèmes versifiés :

 L'hémistiche « et, comme je le crois » est un remplissage pour finir le vers, trouver la rime et enfin remplacer lourdement la conjonction « car ». En versification, ce procédé est appelé « une cheville ».

Plus traumatisants peut-être pour la langue sont les tics de langage, avec des formules lourdes et superflues, comme les lancinants :

« Écoutez : » - à quelqu'un qui vous écoute déjà ; ou « Je m'en vais vous dire une chose : » - alors que s'exprimer consiste exactement à dire des choses.

 Au lieu de simplement écrire : une augmentation de ses produits exportés et de ses bénéfices…

La tautologie

Du grec « tautologia » : même discours, redite.

On trouvera aussi ce mot comme synonyme du premier. Mais son acception reste importante car elle permet de traduire l'anglicisme : truisme (lapalissade). C'est « l'affirmation évidente », ou bien l'explication inutile puisque l'idée allait déjà de soi.

Elle résulte d'un oubli ou de l'ignorance de l'étymologie d'un mot. Exemples connus :

« une panacée universelle » (longtemps en usage)
« dépenses somptuaires » (classique un peu oublié)
« danger potentiel » (apparition récente): s'il n'était pas potentiel, où serait le danger ?
« opportunités à saisir » : ignorance (sous influence anglo-saxonne) du sens français. Une opportunité fait référence à une occasion qu'on a su justement saisir.

 Ce sont tous des exemples où est attribuée à une chose une qualité, soit assumée par la nature de la chose, soit contenue dans la définition du mot.

Elle est parfois le produit d'une naïveté qui échappe à son auteur. Exemple extrait d'un journal gratuit du matin :

« Les secours sont arrivés rapidement sur les lieux de l'accident, mais pour le conducteur tué sur le coup, il était déjà trop tard. »

Elle peut être voulue pour stigmatiser la bêtise d'un personnage :

« Je l'ai toujours dit : les hommes sont égaux. Il n'y a de véritable distinction que la différence qui peut exister entre eux. » Henry Monnier

En revanche, peut tromper le fameux slogan de la Française des jeux :

« 100 % des gagnants ont tenté leur chance. »
Ce slogan est pléonastique et non tautologique et il peut s'expliquer par ce premier slogan, tiré de Montaigne, de la même société :

« Qui peut dire qu'il n'a jamais de chance s'il ne la tente jamais ? ».

Dans les deux cas, le sens est bien souligné : il faut jouer pour espérer gagner.

« Un quart d'heure avant sa mort, il était encore en vie. »
 Cette ancienne chanson militaireSelon la revue Historama (Encyclopédie des mots historiques, 1970) Bernard de La Monnoye remania le texte de la chanson et le truffa d'« évidences ». relative à Jacques de Chabannes, seigneur de La Palice, est un exemple célèbre. Le sens, mal exprimé, veut dire qu'il a été combatif (bien en vie) jusqu'à son dernier souffle. Notons cependant que le vers d'origine exprimait, lui, la jalousie envers cet homme puissant et sa mort brutale : « Un quart d'heure avant sa mort, il  encore  », dérivé de son épitaphe.

Des redondances courantes
Parmi les pléonasmes courants, nombreux sont utilisés quotidiennement. Par exemple :

 Le taux d'alcoolémie (revient à dire « le taux de taux d'alcool dans le sang »)
 Incessamment sous peu : « incessamment » et « sous peu » ont le même sens
 Au jour d'aujourd'hui (aujourd'hui étant déjà étymologiquement un pléonasme, cf. supra). Donc cela revient à dire « Au jour du jour de ce jour ».
 Descendre en bas et monter en haut
 Mineur de moins de x ans : ici, mineur veut dire « plus jeune que », il convient de dire « mineur de x ans » pour éviter le pléonasme.

 Voire même : d'après le Dictionnaire de l'Académie française, de l'ATILF et son dictionnaire en ligne (TLFi), et le Littré, le mot « voire » dans son sens usuel et très répandu  signifie « et même, même ». L'expression « voire même » est inscrite, donc existante, mais suivie par la remarque : « L'expr. voire même est souvent considérée comme un pléonasme fautif et notée fam. ds Ac. 1835, 1878. » dans le TLFi. Cependant, dans son sens vieilli et littéraire, peu usité, fidèle au sens étymologique, « voire » signifie « vraiment, certes, assurément » et est employé soit comme particule d'assertion, soit seul et rhétoriquement pour émettre un doute à l'instar de « vraiment ».)

Notes et références

Notes

Références

Voir aussi

Bibliographie

Articles connexes
 Acronyme redondant
 Lapalissade
 Tautologie
 Toponyme pléonastique

Pleonasme
Pleonasme
Pléonasme