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Trust Me I'm Lying is an eye opening book about how the modern media operates and how the system can be manipulated. Download the. trust me, i'm lying: confessions of a media manipulator pdf "you've seen it all before. trust me im lying pdf read trust me im lying pdf. download trust me im lying. The cult classic that predicted the rise of fake news—revised and updated for the post-Trump, post-Gawker age. Hailed as “astonishing and disturbing” by the.
Trust Me I'm Lying is an eye-opening book about how the modern media operates, the economics that drive it and how the system can be manipulated. Author Ryan Holiday details how he himself manipulated the media, by bribing bloggers, writing their stories, pretending to be other people and defacing his own advertisements to get the media writing the stories he wanted. This book is ideal for anyone working in or wanting to get involved in the marketing and media world. Ryan Holiday considers himself a writer and a media strategist. With 6 books under his belt and an extremely successful blog, Ryan has covered a lot of topics surrounding personal and business development. Ryan studied under Robert Greene, author of The 48 Laws of Power and credits a lot of his success and strategies to Greene.
That is, blogs make money every time you visit them. But while advertising maintains the blog, most bloggers dream of selling to a large media company. For large groups, each blog attracts a new audience, and that means more advertising space to market to new audiences. Typically, these companies target high traffic blogs with hundreds of thousands of visitors a day and the more traffic a blog gets, the more they sell.
How many bloggers make real money? Not too many. The easiest way to make a career as a blogger is to create a well-known name, a reputation and live up to it. When a blogger creates a brand , producing viral content and discovering fresh news, they can start getting countless messages from companies and startups, desperate for coverage.
Ryan cites several examples of first-time bloggers who have become great journalists or influential editors. He suggests that if you want to be covered in the press and on blogs, you have to approach them before they become famous and explode. If you want coverage, you have to help them become famous. Ryan cites the example of a vlogger with whom he started a relationship when he still had only a few thousand views. Ryan was only supplying designer clothes to the vlogger, which he published.
Today this blogger has millions of views and a TV show and still remembers Ryan. Yes, in the blogosphere, leaking information is a communication strategy that works if you want to get noticed. Ryan cites a story in which, during a legal process, he needed to put some information in the press, and for that he created a fake confidential memo, printed it, and sent it to a series of blogs as if he were a disgruntled employee, leaking information which he received from his boss.
Everyone was waiting for an official statement. Holiday also claims that Press Releases can, if created under the right angle, be cited word for word in blog posts. Another common tactic is to make changes to the Wikipedia entry content to exaggerate a truth or plant a fact. Then, since blogs write about the subject by researching Wikipedia , the planted become real in the digital world.
Blogs engage in iterative journalism: In the first phase of iterative journalism, the blogger publishes an article based on repercussions of social networks that are not necessarily true — without doing any verification of any fact whatsoever. They most likely updated the post because the first blogger responsible for publishing the story did something wrong or posted before finalizing checks, in a hurry to be the first to publish.
But even with fixes made, you still caused a problem for the people who read the previous version of the article. They can, for example, tell the wrong news to friends or make a decision based on inaccurate information. The tendency of blogs to alter their content iteratively means that they can be merchants of misinformation.
Just as any business needs customers, blogs need web traffic: Their goal is to attract as many visitors as possible, and for that to happen, they rely on a variety of methods to grab attention. When thinking about suggesting a topic or making a deliberate leak, think first about what the headline, article title or tweet the blogger will share. Often they do not need to state what the article says, just call in curious clicks to read the content. If the magazine cover is what sells, on Google and social networks, the title is its cover.
If you want to make sure your business is covered on blogs, you need to prove them that you can deliver traffic. Yes, that you can take many readers over to their blog. If your news came out in the press, one of the best ways to become a recurring subject in a blog is to make it clear to the blogger that people want to read about you.
So to ensure your continued success, you need to be creative and promote content about yourself. If you do not have too many hits on your channels, you can leave controversial comments in the post and create honest debates around the subject. Finally, if none of this works, you can promote the article with paid traffic on networks like Outbrain or Taboola. Have you read any stories online that made you angry? This reaction was probably not a coincidence.
Blogs often try to arouse our emotions to engage us. For example, they know that when we read a story that refers to injustice like a child kidnap. This anger then encourages us to interact with the story, either by sharing it with other people or by posting our thoughts in their comments section. She was panting now, sweat running down her face. My hands were shaking so hard, it looked like they were vibrating. Mom, dont say that! Your father How is he? I froze for a moment. I couldnt tell her.
I couldnt tell her he was dead. Not while she was like this. Fresh tears sprung to my eyes as I shook my head and smiled at her. Hes fine, I lied.
Hes waiting for you to be okay too, so dont let him down! Tell him I, she paused to take a deep breath, love him. You tell him! I demanded, my pitch raising a few octaves. My mom laughed weakly again, but it was so quiet I could barely hear her.
I felt her grip on my hand loosen. Elliot is too young for this, my mom said with a sigh. Make sure he knows how much I love him too. Let him know yourself, mom! I forced the lump in my throat down, wiping my eyes with my free hand so I could see my mom clearer. Her eyes were dull, and she was gazing into nothingness.
Im sorry. My mom let out a groan, and suddenly I was being pulled away from the bed table. I fought against the arms pulling me away.
Trust Me, I’m Lying
I screamed, using every ounce of my strength to try to free myself. Sorry, she panted again. I love you. I screamed again. Dont leave me! Mom, please! Administer the drug, one of the doctors shouted, racing to my moms side.
I shrieked again, my voice high and scratchy. My mom closed her eyes, a tear escaping the side of it. Suddenly everything was quiet besides a resounding beep that suddenly filled the room, making whoever was holding me let go. I didnt move, shocked by the sound.
Doctors rushed about, and I stood still, staring wide-eyed at my moms motionless body. The beeping sound went away, followed by frantic shouts. But those too, soon died away. A deafening silence filled the room once more. My chest heaved, once, twice, and on the third time, I screamed.
A long, agonizing, heart-wrenching scream. I screamed again after that, letting out my frustration, anger, and sadness. I continued screaming until I felt a hand on my shoulder.
I shut my mouth instantly, looking up at my uncle, who was shaking his head. Tears filled my eyes once again as I stumbled towards the bed. I put a hand on my moms cheek.
Mom, I whispered, touching her still warm skin. Please, wake up. Mom A sob escaped my lips and I fell to my knees, my arms splaying across my mother. Loud sobs escaped my face as I cried my heart out, holding onto my dead mother. It hurt. I couldnt breathe. Each sob made my whole torso heave, making me one shaking, convulsing mess. I wasnt crying just for my mom.
I was crying for my dad as well. I had just lost the two people most important in my life within ten minutes. It really wasn't needed, but I wanted to add it. Did I make you have some feeling of sadness? That was my goal. I'm going to try to get the next chapter out as soon as possible. I just wanted to see what people thought of this idea, and I decided to just write this first chapter-ish thing with it.
It's more of a prologue, but whatever: D What do you think? Do you like the idea? Should I continue? And of course I'm going to keep going with A Proscriptive Relationship. He returned my look with a solemn one. Please, I begged, clenching my fist. You dont understand! I need this job! Without it I cant support my brother and myself Harley, my boss snapped, silencing me instantly. I cant have you coming to work late every day!
Its not every day! I responded, raising my voice. My brother just misbehaves sometimes and I have to deal with him first! My bosss expression hardened. But Youre fired, Harley, he stated with an air of finality.
If I dont have a job I cant pay the rent or grocery expenses! I protested, tears gathering in my eyes. My best advice is that you let a foster family adopt you and your brother, he responded, looking uninterested. And you should go back to school instead of working full time. I get home-schooled, I snapped. And theres no way Im going to take the chance of my brother and me being separated.
Hes all that I have! Well, then, Im sorry. I glared at him. At least I know what kind of man you are now! The kind that would fire a worker even though her life depends on the job! My boss well, ex-boss now, sighed, rubbing his forehead. Here, I look for workers who work hard and actually show up on time. Im sorry you couldnt follow those rules. But End of discussion. Please leave my office immediately. I scowled at him with the most hatred I could gather. He returned my look with a bored one, motioning with my hand for me to leave.
I eventually stood up, purposefully knocking over the chair in the process. Jaw clenched, I stomped towards the exit of the room. This is why you dont hire children, my ex-boss muttered to himself. I slammed the door as hard as I could after I exited.
Before I had even taken a step, someone ran into me, almost toppling me over. A strong grasp on my forearm saved me though and I regained my balance. I glanced up to see a familiar blonde smirking down at me.
His blue eyes twinkled with amusement. Whoa there, Seth, my now ex-coworker, said. Whats the rush? I was fired, I told him, tears spilling down my face.
Because I was late to work too many times, I said bitterly, wiping away the tears that had escaped. I wouldnt waste my tears over him. Doesnt he understand your circumstances? Seth said in outrage, fury filling his eyes.
Hold on, let me talk to him! I quickly grabbed his shoulder, stopping him. No, its okay. I dont want to work for a man like him anyway. But, Harley I shook my head. I have enough money in the bank for this months rent, so its okay. I just need to find another job.
Seth still looked angry, but he let out a deep sigh. I wish I could help. I smiled at him. Dont worry about it, Ill be okay. But anyway, Im going to go rescue Will from Elliot Im sure he wouldnt mind a day off.
He grinned. Tell them I said hi. Will do, I responded, catching his grin. Where are those cupcakes? Ive got them right here! Seth called back, a frown appearing on his face. Geez, they never give me a break, he muttered, rolling his eyes. I giggled, punching him lightly on the arm. Ill talk to you later. Be careful on your way home. I will be, I responded, moving around him towards the employee room.
I went to my locker and grabbed my coat, shrugging it on. Standing on my tiptoes, I checked to see if I had anything in my locker I didnt want to leave behind.
There were only a few candy bar wrappers in it. I decided to leave those there. After grabbing my umbrella, I slammed my locker door shut for the last time. I didnt look back as I left the room, heading straight through the exit.
They wouldnt be having me as a customer again. I opened my umbrella before stepping out into the downpour. Scowling, I made my way down the street, stepping in many puddles. I hated rain. Everything bad happened when it rained. Today was no different. The walk to my apartment only took ten minutes, but during those ten minutes, I became incredibly cold. It was October! It shouldnt have been this freezing out!
But then again New England, especially Massachusetts, had an incredibly indecisive climate. I shouldnt have been too surprised. I hurried up the steps of the apartment building, entering its warmth. Instead of going straight to my apartment, I went to my neighbor Wills.
I knocked on the door and after a moment the brown-haired, twenty-seven year old opened the door. His green eyes widened in surprise. What are you doing here? I got fired, I muttered, pushing past him and into the apartment. You got fired? I gave him a flat look. Because a certain someones little brother made her late to work one too many times.
Speaking of the devil, my little brother suddenly appeared. He raced up to me and clung to my leg, a goofy grin on his face. The semi-curly chestnut colored hair we both received fell into his face, and he had to shake it away so he could see me. Youre back! I frowned back down at him. I told you to stop calling me Pig! Pig is Pig, he stated stubbornly. I scowled at the five-year old.
Pig was what my mom used to call me because I ate a lot. I guess it had stuck with my brother. It wasnt a nickname I particularly enjoyed however. Youre back early, Elliot stated, still smiling. Um, I got a day off, I responded, not wanting to have to explain what happened.
Explaining things to toddlers was not fun. So we can play? We can play, I responded with a laugh. I just need to talk with Will for a moment. My brother nodded in excitement. Ill go get it started! He ran off, probably to go turn on the Wii.
His latest obsession. I turned back to Will with a sigh, flopping onto the couch.
I dont know how you can put up with all his energy all the time, I started, watching as Will took a seat on the recliner across from me. Im not that old, he pointed out. I still feel bad for leaving him with you all the time. Doesnt he distract you when you have to write?
Will shook his head. Not at all. Hes easily entertained. And you shouldnt feel bad. Im the one who offered to watch him when you have to work.
I dont see why you just wont let me adopt you two I smiled, rolling my eyes. I can support the two of us. You do enough. You watch Elliot almost all the time, you home-school me, and you cook dinner for us almost every night. Which is basically like Im your father anyway, Will pointed out with a grin. Think about it. You could go to normal school again and I shook my head, cutting him off. I like my life. Really, I responded, looking him straight in the eye.
After losing my parents I realized family is whats most important. I want Elliot and I to stay together. And not going to high school, well the part about not having a lot of friends kind of sucks, but at least I dont have to deal with the drama.
And I dont have to wake up early all the time either. He grinned at me. I like your attitude. You say that all the time, I pointed out, a smile slipping onto my face. But its true, he insisted. Even after all the tragic events in your life, you managed to not only stay as positive as possible through all of the ordeals, but after your parents died you didnt hesitate to drop out of high school and start working so you and Elliot wouldnt be separated.
Its very admirable, and not many people could do it. I blushed, clearing my throat. Its not that big of a deal And now youre being modest. I scowled at Will, crossing my arms. I need to start looking for a job right away. He gave me a worried look. Are you okay with this months rent? I can pay if you I have it, I interrupted, shaking my head. Thank you for the offer, but Im not going to take your money.
But So, has your editor asked about your manuscript lately? I asked, trying to change the topic. Wills face instantly paled. Unfortunately, yes. She wants it by next Monday. Im not even close to being done! I laughed out loud. Will was always like this waiting until the last second to finish his manuscript so it could be turned in to his editor.
He was a writer, and a good one at that. Thats how he managed to look after Elliot for me all the time: He worked at home. Well keep working on it, I urged him, smirking. We dont want a repeat of last time The last time his editor was here when the manuscript wasnt finished I thought I was going to witness a murder.
Kate, his editor, had screamed at him for five minutes straight about responsibilities and deadlines. It was actually very entertaining. I chuckled at the memory. Will pursed his lips at me, guessing what I was thinking about. There wont be a repeat, he stated stubbornly. Ill get it done in time. Sure you will. I will! I ignored him, getting up, and walking over to the computer desk.
I sat down in the swivel chair, spinning around to face Wills laptop. After pressing the on button, I leaned back and waited for it to load. A few seconds later Will appeared, hovering over me. I questioned, looking up at him. What are you doing? Im going to apply for a few jobs, I told him, typing in his password, and logging in. The sooner I get one the better. I swiveled the chair around to look at Elliot, who was frowning at me. I thought we were playing! I made a face. I didnt have time to play with him.
Turning to Will, I gave him a pleading look. He smiled and rolled his eyes. Pig is kind of busy, so why dont I play with you instead? Dont call me Pig! I called at the pair of them as they walked away. I heard Will laugh in response and I scowled. That nickname was so unfitting! I didnt eat that much anymore Okay, I thought with sigh, that was a lie. I probably ate too much But I wasnt even fat!
I turned back to the computer again, gazing at the screen. Forest green eyes appeared in the reflection, and I stared at them for a moment, watching my pensive face. My eyes were the only trait that my mom passed on. Every time I saw them, I couldnt help but to remember her. The desktop background appeared, making my reflection disappear. I waited a moment before clicking the Firefox symbol. I brought up Google, frowning as I thought of place to apply to first.
Tapping the keys absentmindedly, I finally decided I would start with the most known stores. Walmart was up first. It was better than nothing. Two grueling hours later, I had applied to six different stores. Hopefully ones that would hire seventeen-year-. Not many stores did that though.
“Trust Me I’m Lying Summary”
The bakery had been my exception, but now I had been fired from it Geez mom, dad. Couldnt you have just been rich and make things easier? I joked out loud, gazing up at the ceiling.
It had almost been a year since their death. Some people called me cold for being so optimistic after losing both of my parents, but they were wrong. I missed my parents like crazy; no one could understand how much I missed them. But I knew they wouldnt want me becoming a depressed person. I didnt want to be one either.
And so I became who I was today. Happy-go-lucky, optimistic Harley Allen. A character list is at the end of the chapter. They're who is playing who for the watty awards on wattpad, but a few people asked me to post them here as well! My ears perked up and I turned my answering machines volume up a few notches. Hopefully this was a good message. Were sorry, but Im afraid we are looking for someone a little older and more experienced for Scowling, I slammed my finger down on the delete button, not bothering to hear the rest.
That was the fourth store to call and say they were looking for someone older and more experienced. How experienced did you have to be to hit a few stupid buttons on a cash register? I had seen teenagers younger than me working there!
I swiveled around in my chair, glaring at my brother. I told you not to I trailed off when I noticed the solemn expression on his face. My gaze softened and I stood up, walking towards him. He sniffled and rubbed his eyes as I approached. I knelt down beside him and put my hands on his little shoulders. Whats wrong, El? I had a dream about mom and dad, he relayed to me, sniffling again.
Pig, I want to see them. Oh, Elliot, I sighed, gathering him in my arms. Ive told you, you cant see them anymore. Because theyve gone somewhere better?
I nodded, rubbing his back soothingly. Yes, but dont forget they are always watching over you. I miss them, he told me, sounding like he was about to cry again. I miss them too, I responded, my chest constricting. But we need to stay strong for them, okay?
No more crying, okay? Sometimes when Elliot started crying, I ended up crying too, and it was just one big mess. But so far, I had gone two months without crying over my parents death. Elliot still cried once in awhile, but that was to be expected. My mom had been right; he was too young for this. Elliot nodded against me. I pulled away from him and poked his forehead. He frowned at me for a moment, putting a hand to his forehead. I heard you were on fire, he commented.
I raised an eyebrow at him. Im not on fire Will was talking on the phone and said you got on fire. Now I was even more confused. No I never got nor caught on fire. I dont know what hes talking about.
What else did Will say? Your job? Elliot asked, more than stated. I said with realization. He said I was fired to someone on the phone? Elliot nodded, his eyes widening fearfully. So you were on fire? I shook my head quickly. No, no, being fired is different than being on fire.
Elliot looked confused and I sighed. I didnt have the patience to explain everything to him, so I decided to change the subject. Forget about it. Are you hungry? You slept in rather late today, I commented, leading him to the kitchen. I want eggs, he told me, climbing onto a chair at the table. Just eggs? Alright, I responded, walking over to the fridge and opening it. I searched the fridge until my eyes landed on the egg carton.
Pulling it out along with the milk, I placed them on the kitchen table. Elliot watched me as I went to the cupboard and took out a bowl to scramble the eggs in. Want to crack an egg? I asked, seeing the solemn look still on his face. Elliot immediately smiled, nodding his head eagerly.
I handed him the egg, and hoped that he wouldnt leave half the eggshell in the bowl like last time. To my surprise, he carefully cracked the egg on the side of the bowl instead of slamming it down like he usually did.
Only one little bit of eggshell fell into the yolk. Elliot grinned at me and I couldnt help but smile back. I ruffled his hair.
Good job. I cracked the other three eggs, letting the yolk drop into the bowl. Elliot poured the milk in, and I added a few dashes of paprika. I had Elliot start mixing the eggs as I went to the cabinet and pulled out a frying pan. I put it on the stove and lit it, grabbing the eggs from Elliot and mixing them quickly before pouring them into the pan.
Pig, you make the best eggs! Elliot complimented, digging his spoon into his breakfast when it was finished. Dont call me Pig, I responded in an exasperated voice. My name is Harley. Pig is Pig! I groaned in frustration. There was no getting through to him. Hopefully he would outgrow it in a few years. I returned my attention back to my eggs and placed a forkful in my mouth, chewing slowly. I had to admit; I was a pretty good cook.
Which was probably why I used to work in a bakery. My thoughts consumed me as I ate, a frown now appearing on my face. I needed to find more places to apply at. A week had already passed since I had been fired, and I was just wasting my time by applying and being told I was too young to be hired. A knock at my door brought me out of my reverie. I glanced at Elliot, who hadnt seemed to hear it. I slid of my stool, walking to the front door.
Hesitating for only a moment, I reached out and pulled open my door. My jaw dropped when I realized who was standing at my door. He gave me a sheepish grin and held up one of his hands. I cried, flinging myself at my mothers brother. Its been so long! Too long, he responded with a chuckle, patting my back. I see that you are doing well. How is Elliot?
Good, I responded, pulling away. Hes in the kitchen eating right now. Come in! What are you even doing here? My uncle followed me back inside my house and I shut the door behind him, gesturing for him to follow me to the kitchen. Want some toast? I offered, stepping into the kitchen with him. Im good, he responded, his eyes locking onto Elliot. Oh, he sure has grown. Elliot looked up at his uncle, his little eyes nearly bulging out of his sockets. I watched as Elliot came running at my uncle.
Rob laughed, scooping up Elliot in his arms. How have you been? Elliot responded. Thats good, my uncle responded, smiling. Im glad to hear it. We made our way back to the kitchen table, where we all took a seat.
Elliot began to eat his breakfast again while I focused my attention solely on my uncle. He cleared his throat, pulling at the tie on his neck. I heard you were fired from your job.
A sheepish smile appeared on my face and I scratched my head. Er, yeah And Ive also been told that every place youve been sending applications into has been refusing you?
Ah yes, I muttered, my eyes now downcast. Apparently Im too young, and I should be in high school. My uncle chuckled. You should be in high school though. Will teaches me a lot! I protested, frowning at him. You know that! I bet Im smarter than most seventeen year olds these days. Youre probably right about that, he responded, a smile crossing his face. Yeah, so I dont understand why even Super Saver wont hire me.
They hire everyone! My uncle frowned, tapping his finger on the table. Elliot copied him almost immediately and I sighed. Dont teach him things that will get annoying, I scolded, sending Elliot a warning glare. Both males stopped immediately, sending each other sheepish grins.
I rested my elbow on the table, plopping my chin onto my hand. So what did you come here today for? I asked my uncle, who was fiddling with his fingers. To offer you a job. My ears perked up at that. I watched him curiously to see if he was joking. He returned my look with a serious one. A smile slipped onto my face.
Are you serious? I want to help you out in any way I can, he told me, running a hand through his hair, since you refuse to live with me. Youre a busy man, I dont want to be a hassle, I responded, rolling my eyes.
Weve been over this. And I like living like this, believe it or not. I know. Thats why Im going to offer you this job. I understand you worked in a bakery at your last job, right? I nodded my head. Yep, why? The job Im going to offer you has to do with baking, my uncle said slowly, as if choosing his words carefully. A lot of baking. I responded, really intrigued now.
Thats awesome! I love baking! What kind of job is it? A bakery again? My uncle cleared his throat, looking steadily at the wall, as if it was he was talking to instead of me. Its actually at a high school. I responded, frowning the slightest bit. You mean like, a lunch lady? Not exactly. I glowered at him, tired of the guessing game. Rob, just get to the point. Its a home economics class, he told me, his eyes looking directly into mine.
Now I was confused. What would my job be? Helping prepare? No, my uncle started, a smirk slipping onto his face. Youd be the teacher. I blanked, looking at my uncle like he was crazy. He cleared his throat once again, beginning to tap on the table again. Elliot copied him, giggling to himself. There was a moment of silence while I tried to gather my thoughts in order to make a coherent sentence.
A teacher? At a high school? Im too young, I stated dumbly. Duh I was too young! Yes, I know that, my uncle responded with a sigh. The thing is, this place really needs to find a teacher by the end of the weekend. But, how? Im too young so it wouldnt work out. The principal is willing to er, slightly bend the rules Theyd let a seventeen year old work?
I asked dubiously, frowning again. No but theyd let a twenty-one year old work. I held in a sigh. Why couldnt my uncle be straight to the point instead of confusing me? Unless that was the point, which I highly doubt it was. Was he trying to say I could have the job in four years? But no, that wouldnt make sense if they needed a teacher by the end of the week.
Im confused, I finally admitted. My uncle ran a hand through his hair again. If you took the job, you would pretend you were a twenty-one year old. My eyes widened. But thats thats lying to society! You need a job, right? They need a teacher and are willing to hire you.
Trust Me, I'm Lying: Confessions of a Media Manipulator by Ryan Holiday
And you wont be recorded as twenty-one in the registration, so technically youd only be lying to some of the faculty and all of the students. But The pay is about seven-hundred a week. My jaw-dropped and I stared dumbfounded at my uncle. Elliot continued to tap the table with his finger, even though my uncle stopped. My uncle looked at me, his expression still serious. I know thats not as much as an average teacher makes, he told me, but you would be an extra-curricular teacher, so thats as much as they can offer No, I responded, shaking my head.
No, no, no But Harley my uncle started, a confused look appearing on his face, but I cut him off. Wait, I meant no as in that seven hundred dollars is definitely enough, I said, my eyes wide. Thats double what I made at the bakery! My uncle relaxed slightly. So youll take the job? I wanted to scream, Yes, of course Ill take the job! Before I decided, I wanted to make sure I knew exactly what I was getting into.
Teaching to bake was a lot different than just baking. What exactly do I have to do? I questioned. My uncle smiled slightly, his green eyes lighting up.
Youll only have to teach three to four classes a day, he told me. And maybe lunch duty now and then, maybe detention too. And Im just teaching these students how to cook?