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A NEW BEGINNING Purple Butterfly. 🦋 Imasuen Edward A. also known as EddyFlames with the signature - #PurpleButterfly is a banker whose passion for writing started at a very young age. He writes directly from his heart and He hopes to make the world a better place with his artistic talents.

Toxic Masculinity and Femininity After spending weeks talking about machines, robots and the future, let's talk about the present this week. Today’s topic doubles as one of the major challenges dividing our societies at the moment and it is the polarization of ‘ manly behaviors’ as toxic and feminine behaviors as the new ideal.  The movement that has popularized the term ‘toxic masculinity’ shares tools and conclusions with those who see signs of ‘ white supremacy’ everywhere they look. Intersectionalists have in common with one another a particular rhetorical trick: Any claim made by a member of an historically oppressed group is unquestionably true. Questioning claims is, itself, an act of oppression. This opens the door for anyone who is willing to lie to obtain power. If you cannot question claims, any claim can be made. Thus: Racism is ubiquitous. And all men are toxic. I object—but objection is not allowed. Everyone who understands game theory knows ho

THE MIGRANT WELCOME TO CHAPTER THREE PLEASE FOLLOW THE LINK TO READ THE PROLOGUE , THE FIRST CHAPTER AND THE SECOND CHAPTER HERE Where I had lain my head was damp. I realized I had been crying in my sleep. There was something unfamiliar about waking up to the bright stare of dawn and for a moment I couldn’t place a finger on it. And then it struck. There was peace, an unusual feeling for someone who awoke to the sounds of neighbors shouting greetings through the window as they passed, on their way to work.   I shrugged off the emotion. Too early for a bout of nostalgia. There was an overwhelming feeling of a dark void in the depths of my mind. Father was gone.   Only two days back we had been chatting away under the glare of the television, not really paying attention to what was playing. Uncle Eddie was still asleep. His snores were rough and loud and insufferable. I rolled off the bed and caught sight of a wall clock that had been inconspicuous the night before. It was ten