Seriously, don't even attempt to trivialize it. It's not about waking you up at 3:00 am for mundane reasons like running out of milk or needing your Wi-Fi password. This entity, whatever it may be, operates outside our reality's bounds, and its motives are far from benign. I learned this the hard way recently, which is why I'm cautioning you all against making light of it. But before delving into specifics, let me offer some context, as sleep paralysis is a recent phenomenon for me.
One of my earliest memories of sleep disruption traces back to my grade school days. With my mother on an early shift unable to drive me to school for its 8:00 am start, she would drop me off at my aunt's house. Here, she ensured I was fed, dressed, and ready for school. Most mornings, I had just about an hour left to sleep before needing to rise. Often, I'd find myself in a half-asleep state from the moment my mom roused me until she tucked me into my aunt's spare bedroom.
On one of those mornings, as I lay down, teetering between wakefulness and sleep, I experienced a peculiar sensation. It felt as though my body began to rise, hovering about two feet above the bed, before swiftly plummeting back down. Startled awake, I assumed my mother had thrown me back onto the bed, only to find the room empty upon opening my eyes.
I hadn't encountered any other experiences quite like that, but it was during this time that I distinctly recall a notable surge in the frequency of the nightmares I was experiencing. The nightmares were generally the same, some cloaked being hiding in the recesses of my vision, always there, always watching. I felt as though each passing night terror that it got closer and closer to me, but always just out of reach. At times, I found myself trapped in a dark room, enveloped by an overwhelming sense of malevolence that seemed to saturate the air—and a fear entirely foreign to my waking experiences.
Then I experienced sleep paralysis for the first time.
It occurred at my mother's house, marking the initial instance where I experienced the sensation of my body being effectively immobilized while my mind remained active. I recall attempting to move my eyes and then my body, but all efforts were futile. As I struggled to regain autonomy, it sounded as though a gathering had convened in my kitchen, voices carrying in muted tones. None of the which resembled those of my parents; I even detected snickering and laughter at one point. The conversation seemed to be aimed at me, as my name was uttered several times, yet the other words remained indecipherable. The episode concluded with me returning to sleep without any further disturbances.
As the instances of sleep paralysis became more frequent, they culminated in another peculiar experience. Shortly after moving into my first apartment, still in the midst of unpacking and assembling furniture, the second incident occurred. I lay on a mattress on the floor, surrounded by unassembled bedframe pieces, when I awoke to find myself imprisoned within my own body once more. In the darkness, I heard a faint sound—a presence moving softly over each piece of furniture. Panic gripped me as I strained to turn my head towards the noise, but every effort proved futile. With each passing moment, the unseen entity drew closer until it reached the bedside. Helpless, I closed my eyes, bracing myself for whatever awaited.
Meow?
Relief washed over me as I realized it was just my generously proportioned feline friend making his way around the room. I could hear him moving about, stepping on more furniture and emitting a few disgruntled meows, presumably chastising my laziness for not assembling it yet. As I began to drift back to sleep, I was abruptly startled awake by a chilling sound.
Snnn-orrrff
A primal, guttural snarl pierced the silence, its menacing resonance echoing through the room like a thunderous roar. I struggled desperately to move my limbs, silently screaming in my mind, yet only managing a feeble whimper as I sensed the beast drawing near. Despite my efforts, my body only twitched, while in my imagination, I leapt up and fled. As a mischievous chuckle erupted, I felt hot, pungent breath on the back of my neck. I suddenly awoke, screaming, kicking and punching. I jerked my head to the side and was met only with darkness. I jumped up and turned the light on, a quick scan of the room revealed there was nothing there. Exhausted and recognizing my inability to function effectively, I reluctantly resigned myself to lying back down with the light on until morning. I called into work, knowing that in my current state, I wouldn't be of much use to anyone.
Days passed and soon, it was that time of the month again for my regular check-in from mom. I hesitantly answered the call. After a few minutes of conversation, we eventually broached the topic of my sleep paralysis.
"Honey, it's probably all the stress." she reasoned.
My job had me grinding away tirelessly, but despite my efforts, all I got was a tiny bump in pay. To add to the mix, my landlord decided it was the perfect time to raise the rent. It's safe to say, the stress was really getting to me. "I don't know, it's been happening my whole life, Dad ever had any issues with sleep?"
There was a noticeable pause as she contemplated her reply. "He's definitely had his share of nightmares, he'd wake me up a lot of the times, poor thing would be in tears."
"Jeez, I never knew, but Mom I gotta…" I endeavored to conclude the conversation, as my allotted chat time was expiring, however my mother promptly interrupted me.
"Sweetie, why won't you join us at church? It might help?"
I released a sigh. I staunchly opposed the notion of going to church; I'd rather watch a documentary on the history of paperclips. "Thanks, but I'm not feeling that right now."
"Please, just do it for me?" She pleaded.
Eager to bring the call to a close. "I'll think about, but, alright I'm going to go ahead a hop off here."
"Alright, I miss you, call me later okay?"
"I will, love you, bye."
I concluded the call with a sigh of relief, grateful for its conclusion.
For a stretch, life seemed to fall into place: My job noticed the disparity between my increased workload and pay and offered me a new position that significantly improved my financial situation. Thanks to this new position, I crossed paths with my wife, and we swiftly eloped. She was one of the top account managers, earning a substantial income, which enabled us to afford a nice house together. During this period, the night terrors and bouts of sleep paralysis took a hiatus, granting me a reprieve. Yet amidst the tranquility, a gnawing sense of foreboding lingered, as if a tempest loomed on the horizon, urging me to savor the calm while it lasted.
During this period, my wife and I had been eagerly anticipating the arrival of our first child. We were overjoyed as she reached the sixth month of her pregnancy, carrying our long-awaited daughter. However, my suspicions proved tragically correct. I'll never forget the heart-wrenching phone call from my wife, her voice choked with tears, informing me of the terrifying sight of blood. Hastening to the emergency room, we raced against time, but our efforts proved futile. We lost our precious daughter that day. The journey back home was a blur, engulfed in a suffocating sense of loss that seemed to consume us both. It felt as though a part of me had died alongside our daughter, and the profound grief only served to widen the chasm between us as time passed, transforming our once intimate bond into a hollow semblance of what it once was.
Sleep paralysis and nightmares began to resurface, as if some malevolent force was exploiting my already troubled state, and my ability to sleep dwindled. Additionally, minor habits and disparities in the early stages of our marriage, once insignificant, began escalating into cataclysmic arguments. By now, I'm certain even my breathing would agitate my wife. Despite experimenting with various medications, none proved effective. Even vigorous physical exercise failed to exhaust me enough for uninterrupted sleep. The situation escalated to the point where my wife banished me from the bedroom due to my incessant tossing and turning, disrupting her rest. Consequently, I found myself relegated to the couch. Resorting to alcohol became a regular occurrence, partly to numb the discomfort of the couch but also as a means of coping with my grief.
We barely conversed, even though she mentioned marriage counseling, I rebuffed the idea, convinced it wouldn't benefit us. Frequently, I'd discover her in tears, cradling the sonogram of our daughter, yet I would quietly withdraw, allowing her solitary moments of sorrow. She had her unique methods of grieving, just as I had mine.
"I can't keep doing this, we're drowning in debt, and you're just pushing us further into it with every bottle." She pointed to the glass in my hand.
"Oh, come on! I work hard for us, I deserve to unwind a bit!" In a moment of animated expression, I inadvertently spilled some of my beverage onto the floor.
"Unwind? You call draining our savings and neglecting our future 'unwinding'!?"
"Look, just let me sleep in my own bed tonight."
She crossed her arms, and for a moment, silence enveloped us before she finally spoke.
"I just—I feel like I'm living with a stranger." Her eyes begin to shimmer with emotion.
"I'm here, aren't I? What more do you want from me?!" My voice rising in volume.
She attempted to delicately take my drink away, her touch then shifting to gently grasp my hand. "I want us to be a team again, not just two people sharing a bed."
But the moment I felt her touch, I instinctively shoved her hands away from me. "We haven't been a 'team' since we lost—" My voice quivered, then exploded into rage. "You pushed me out! You did this! You don't talk to me about anything anymore! Just get the hell out!" I pointed to the door.
I stood in the open doorway, watching her car pull out of the driveway. With a final sip, I closed the door behind me. Met with silence, I sensed the weight of tension hanging heavy in the air. Deciding one more bourbon was in order, I made my way to the kitchen, intent on pouring myself one last drink. In a bid to ensure a restful night, I opted to accompany my indulgence in alcohol with a hefty dosage of sleeping pills. A reckless choice, I'm aware, but perhaps death was in fact the ultimate form of slumber. I settled onto the couch, flicking through channels until my libation was drained. Feeling sufficiently relaxed, I decided it was time for bed. Ascending the stairs, I stumbled and collapsed onto the master bedroom's mattress. Sleep enveloped me swiftly that night, yet trouble was never far behind.
I recall waking during the night and noticing that the hallway light remained illuminated. It struck me as odd since I distinctly remember switching it off before retiring to bed. However, given my inebriated state from the copious amounts of alcohol I had consumed, I surmised that I must have simply forgotten. I'd just get up and switch it off, but a wave of unease washed over me. Despite my intentions, I found myself paralyzed, trapped within my own body once again. I found myself transfixed on the door, illuminated by the soft glow seeping in from the hallway. In that moment, I discerned a shadowy figure lurking behind the door.
I hoped it was my wife, but a gut feeling told me otherwise; this time felt different, suffocated by an eerie malevolence. The doorknob rattled violently, as if something were struggling to open it. Yet, amidst the noise I caught a sinister snicker. The relentless jiggling of the doorknob reached a fever pitch, threatening to wrench it free from its socket at any instant. Then, as abruptly as it began, the tumult ceased, leaving an ominous silence hanging in the air. The door then creaked open with a slow, foreboding motion.
A sinister, shapeless presence loomed in the doorway, defying gravity as it hovered above the ground, its shadowy form exaggerated by the eerie glow seeping in from the hallway. I whimpered, struggling to stir my limbs in a futile attempt to awaken my body, but they responded only with slight twitches. My gaze remained fixed on the form before me, immobilized by fear. Suddenly, a sinuous appendage extended from the specter's face, resembling a long, black tentacle. It elongated and snaked toward me, prompting me to instinctively shut my eyes. Sensing its proximity, I remained frozen, an icy chill grazed my forehead, jolting me awake in an instant. Sleep eluded me for the rest of the night, so I opted for an early morning, brewing a pot of coffee to chase away the lingering unease.
For the following weeks, my routine remained monotonous: work, microwave dinner, then numbness induced by sleeping pills and bourbon until I could no longer keep my eyes open. I received a text from my mother-in-law stating that my wife wanted to reconcile, but insisted on therapy and my attendance at AA meetings. I refused, firmly convinced that all I desired was to reclaim my bed, and that her reaction was excessive. I contended that the alcohol provided comfort, a gesture I hadn't received from her in quite some time. My mother-in-law and wife were both displeased with my response; it became apparent that divorce was now the inevitable solution.
At this juncture, I experienced sleep paralysis on a daily basis, even in the absence of the entity. Each night, I would awaken multiple times, unable to move, only freeing myself to find dread awaiting the next episode upon returning to sleep. There was one rare night when I slept soundly, only to be abruptly awakened by a late-night call from an old friend. We had a bond stretching back to our middle school days, and were inseparable back then. However, this call wasn't one of nostalgia; it was about money. He needed a bailout for his mortgage, promising a swift repayment.
I moved to the edge of my bed, frustration mounting as I started to rub my forehead. "I can't, I just can't right now, I need to get back to sleep good—"
He interrupted me. "Please, I don't want to lose the house."
I found myself raising my voice in frustration as irritation crept in. It appeared he was wholly incapable of learning from his mistakes. "Look, it isn't my responsibility to bail you out every time you're in trouble!"
"I know, I know, please, at least do it for Eli, Chelsea left me all alone and it's been hard man." His voice starting to crack.
My voice raising to a near scream; "He isn't my responsibility either! You should have been careful! I told you she wasn't good for you and you didn't listen! Sort your own shit out from now on!"
I ended the call and slammed the phone onto my nightstand. So much for a good night's rest, thanks a lot, friend.
As my life spiraled further into chaos, I realized I needed to explore solutions beyond relying on alcohol and sleeping pills to combat sleep paralysis. Perhaps a spiritual approach was necessary. While I knew my mother would be pleased with this consideration, I'm certain what I had in mind would be vehemently discouraged. My mother firmly believed in the existence of demons, warning against interacting with them outside of 'God's protection'. Perhaps she was right, but I grew desperate for a solution. At this stage, I was willing to do anything for peace of mind, regardless of the consequences. So, I concocted a masterful plan:
I'd simply ask it what it would take to make it stop.
Each morning was fraught with dread, pondering whether the entity would manifest itself. I ensured to kickstart my day with a potent drink, maintaining a steady buzz throughout, perhaps to stave off any wavering doubts about my decision. My patience bore fruit one fateful night as I found myself immobilized once more.
This marked the initial instance when the entity directly addressed me, and its words seared into my memory with chilling permanence. It uttered abhorrent, repulsive, unfathomable insults about me, branding me a failure, devoid of worth, as insignificant as a microbe. It dissected my existence, critiquing my choices, appearance, and demeanor with a cruelty I had never encountered. It seemed to possess an uncanny ability to strike at the core of my being, as if it wielded a weapon honed to annihilate my spirit. And then, its merciless laughter echoed relentlessly.
In that moment, I recognized it as my opportunity to retort. However, the barrage of insults stoked a fire within me, igniting a fury that overpowered my intentions. What did this entity presume to know about me? It was entirely mistaken, and that infuriated me. Against my better judgment, fueled by indignation, I deviated from my plan and impulsively blurted out: "What's so damn funny?!"
As the words echoed in my mind, the laughter abruptly ceased, leaving behind an eerie silence. Relief flooded through me as I dared to hope that I had put an end to the ordeal. Yet, my premature celebration was cut short when an indescribable dread enveloped me. A black ichor oozed onto the floor beside my bed, signaling the beginning of a hellish spectacle. From the viscous sludge, a dark figure emerged, coated in sticky tar, yet defying gravity as it ascended, hovering above the ground.
Above me, it loomed, its weighty presence palpable as thick sludge cascaded onto the bed, it halted directly over me. Its head inclined, scrutinizing me with unseen gaze. Tears welled in my eyes, hot and unrestrained, as I braced for the inevitable embrace of death. The figure gradually descended, its feet pressing into my chest with an icy chill coursing through me. As its waist aligned with my sternum, a frigid sensation enveloped me. With a swift motion, it plunged its hand into my chest, seizing my heart, and darkness consumed my senses.
I felt a terrifying pull downward, as if gravity itself had gone haywire. My stomach churned with a sickening weightlessness, reminiscent of a plummeting elevator. As my descent abruptly halted, the sound of wind rushing in my ears gave way to a sudden explosion—a resounding burst, resembling the opening of a parachute. That's when I sensed something coiling around my waist, though invisible to my eyes. Desperate to break free, I reached out, only to recoil in horror as my fingers brushed against scaly, rough skin.
Simultaneously, the air filled with the echoing beat of what seemed like enormous wings, while I experienced the unsettling sensation of being lifted and dropped. Though I had a suspicion about what gripped me, disbelief held me back from fully acknowledging it. So, resigned, I surrendered to my captor's will, allowing them to transport me to an unknown destination. As the darkness yielded, a faint glow emerged beneath us—a jagged line emanating an eerie orange-red light. The creature descended, revealing a sight that churned my stomach: bubbling lava. Its faint glow barely illuminated what seemed to be a cavern.
As I descended further into the cavern's depths, the beast veered close enough for me to sense the searing warmth of the lava beneath my feet. Gradually, our descent stabilized, and my gaze shifted forward, revealing a massive door-like structure. Its design echoed the grandeur of ancient Gothic architecture, adorned with pointed arches and intricate buttresses. The edifice appeared crafted from a peculiar variety of marble, possessing a beauty tinged with an unsettling aura. Its construction defied convention, evoking a sense of unease; never before had anything been wrought in such a manner.
As the creature descended once more, carrying me firmly, we passed through the doorway, revealing the true scale of the chamber. Beyond the threshold, a vast expanse unfolded, illuminated by a solitary spherical light source, casting an unsettlingly dim glow upon a colossal, otherworldly mechanism. It resembled a colossal pillar, stretching upward into the darkness of the cavern, its details obscured by the dim light. Within its intricate workings, gears, wheels, and chains rotated at a languid pace. Amidst this mechanical labyrinth, my attention was drawn to a swirling mass of gray at the base of the mechanism, slowly undulating. The beast appeared to be steering us directly toward it.
As we drew nearer, we sailed past what appeared to be a platform, upon which perched a colossal beast. Its form resembled that of a massive reptilian creature, akin to what one might envision as a dinosaur. Yet, it stood upright on two legs, its powerful limbs chained firmly to the platform. With each short, sharp inhalation, it unleashed a deafening roar that reverberated through every fiber of my being. I couldn't help but notice the protrusion of its jugular vein, roughly the size of my upper thigh, expanding with each thunderous cry. As we approached the swirling mass of gray, a sudden wave of horror washed over me as I comprehended its true nature.
A sea of people.
I observed that they were all bound together by chains, encircling their arms, legs, and necks. These chains converged at the towering pillar, linking each individual to the mechanism. The mass of people moved in a circular motion, driving the turning of the cogs. Their pallid complexion suggested an absence of life, as if all vitality had been drained from them. Their agonized screams pierced the air, mouths devoid of tongues. I witnessed an individual collapse to their knees, only to be forcefully yanked upright by some unseen power, rest was an elusive notion in this place. To my horror, amidst the throng of young adults and the elderly, I saw children swept along by the relentless current of the crowd.
As the creature positioned me amidst the multitude, I pleaded desperately, but it was futile; the chains had already ensnared me. With each movement of the mass of people, I felt the tug on my own chain, pressed in on all sides without an inch of space to spare. The towering figures around me obscured any view beyond their heads, leaving me engulfed in a sea of bodies.
My voice pierced the chaotic symphony of screams, rising in a desperate plea for escape.
"Please! I don't belong here! I just wanted to sleep, this is a mistake!"
As I cried out, the orb of light began to shift, seemingly in response to my desperate appeals. As it drew closer and closer, a sense of dread gripped me. Hovering ominously above, it revealed itself as a grotesque monstrosity, casting a sickly glow that chilled me to the bone. I fought the overwhelming urge to collapse, my knees weakening with each passing moment. What loomed overhead defied any attempt at human description; it resembled a cluster of intertwining tubes, swirling and spiraling in a mesmerizing dance that transcended the bounds of reality. Bathed in a sickly blue light that pulsed like molten lava beneath its tendrils.
The light wrought a profound transformation within me, granting a clarity of self-awareness unlike anything I had ever known. In its piercing illumination, I was confronted with the raw truth of my being, stripped of illusion or denial. It was a sobering revelation, an awakening to the most authentic understanding of myself I had ever experienced.
I belonged here.
I had systematically driven away my friends, neglecting their presence and refusing to open up to them. Even my own mother's attempts at connection felt burdensome, our conversations reduced to mere obligations. But perhaps the greatest tragedy lay in the chasm that had formed between my wife and me—a divide entirely of my own making. I was the architect of my own downfall, responsible for the ruin of my life, with no one else to blame but myself. Every word the entity had uttered about me held a painful truth.
From this vantage point, my life appeared almost sweet in retrospect, bathed in the stark light of self-awareness. Yet, any semblance of hope quickly dissolved, for in this desolate realm, hope found no foothold, no sanctuary to thrive.
With my head bowed low, I trudged forward, the weight of my chain pulling me inexorably onward. In a moment of unprecedented vulnerability, I found myself offering a prayer. Despite my awareness that it would likely go unanswered, I embraced the grim reality of my fate, accepting it with a heavy heart.
God, have mercy on me…
Suddenly the sound of chains breaking shattered the air as I was yanked upward with astonishing velocity. In a sudden blur, the scene below shrank rapidly beneath me. The rush of wind buffeted me, and I sensed another presence, an arm wrapped around my waist. Clutching onto it tightly, I braced myself as the cavern's light faded into absolute darkness, squeezing my eyes shut against the unknown.
With a jolt, my rapid ascent came to an abrupt halt, my back colliding with something soft. Gradually, I realized I was back in the familiarity of my own bed. At the foot of the bed stood a figure, its features obscured by a radiant glow emanating from its form, resembling molten glass. The brilliance bathed the entire room in an ethereal light. For a fleeting moment, we locked gazes, suspended in a silent exchange. Then, as swiftly as it had appeared, the figure began to ascend, leaving my room cloaked once more in shadows.
I sat in silence for a while, grappling with the enormity of my experience. To dismiss it as a mere nightmare or hallucination would be a gross understatement; whatever transpired felt hauntingly more vivid and tangible than my current reality. It would take me months of introspection and contemplation to begin to make sense of it all, to reconcile the surreal with the mundane, and to find a semblance of peace within myself.
Although the experience didn't trigger an immediate transformation, its impact lingered, nudging me towards a path of change. Despite my ongoing struggle with alcohol addiction, I made a conscious decision to seek help. I began prioritizing regular hangouts with my best friend and even accompanied my mom to a few church visits. While I remained uncertain about my own connection to religion, witnessing her joy brought a sense of fulfillment that warmed my heart. In making her happy, I found a newfound source of happiness within myself.
As time passed, a sense of progress gradually infused my life. Achieving a year of sobriety marked a significant milestone on my journey, celebrated amidst the supportive community of AA. Even my wife took notice of my efforts towards self-improvement, leading us to embark on marriage counseling together. Before long, her return to our home signaled a hopeful new chapter in our relationship.
Not a trace of sleep paralysis had haunted me since that fateful night when I was guided from the depths of despair. I'm not entirely sure if it was an angel, or God, but whatever it was, it spared me, and for that, I'm grateful. And now, the most joyous news of all: my wife and I are expecting our first child next week. The doctors assure us of her perfect health, filling us with anticipation and gratitude. As for her name, I already have the perfect one in mind:
Grace

I realized that I posted this in the fantasy subreddit, but I also wanted to engage with the Dune community. I'll acknowledge that the recent movie adaptations has influenced my perspective, I've tried to approach this review with a focus on highlighting the strengths of both the film and the novel. I love both and believe that they both do things extremely well that the others may lack. Just wanted to share that caveat before you began.
Greetings, fellow cosmic voyagers, celestial wanderers, and aficionados of intergalactic intrigue! Today, I am excited to discuss Frank Herbert’s monumental masterpiece, Dune. Much like many of you, I suspect, I was excited to dive into this due to the incredible adaptations that have since been released. If we were to gauge the influence of Dune, it is nothing short of a seismic force within the science fiction realm. It stands as the cornerstone of the genre, akin to what Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings represents for the fantasy genre, or so I’ve been told by those who love this book. Dune isn’t merely a novel; it is a story that spawned a myriad of artistic endeavors from Stargate to Star Trek, and quite obviously Star Wars. Its imprint extends upon characters like Ned Stark, thrust into the maelstrom of the unknown, surrounded by adversaries, at the behest of his liege. I wouldn’t be surprised if George R.R. Martin was inspired by Duke Leto Atreides. So, the question is does Dune endure as a timeless classic, or has its acclaim been inflated? Well, let’s discuss! Fear not, dear travelers, for I shall refrain from divulging any major plot spoilers for those yet to tread Herbert’s world. And for those who have only watched the recent adaptations and are curious, I shall offer my perspective on that as well. Remember as always, the TLDR section at the end will provide a more concise review. Without further ado, let’s check out the blurb.

Set on the desert planet Arrakis, Dune is the story of the boy Paul Atreides, heir to a noble family tasked with ruling an inhospitable world where the only thing of value is the “spice” melange, a drug capable of extending life and enhancing consciousness. Coveted across the known universe, melange is a prize worth killing for...When House Atreides is betrayed, the destruction of Paul’s family will set the boy on a journey toward a destiny greater than he could ever have imagined. And as he evolves into the mysterious man known as Muad’Dib, he will bring to fruition humankind’s most ancient and unattainable dream.

General Overview & Background - The mystery of life isn't a problem to solve, but a reality to experience.
Honestly, this isn’t my first attempt at reading Dune. Back when I was younger, I stumbled upon it in the local library. I vividly recall my stepdad, who saw the original movie, said, “Oh man, this is a story about giant sandworms on a desert planet. I think you will like this.” At 14 years old that sounded awesome! I checked it out, but alas, I struggled through just a couple of chapters before surrendering. As with many things in life, reading is a journey that allows us to revisit a book when the time aligns just right. Dune proved to be precisely that for me.
Fast forward to recent times, I found myself immersed by the spectacle of Part Two in theaters. I honestly forgot I was watching a movie. As the credits rolled, I knew without a doubt that I had to delve deeper into the source material. So, when I saw that Amazon offered a deal on the first six books in the series, I knew it was time to try again.
Dune, released in 1965 and comprises six novels. However, it’s worth noting that Herbert’s son has expanded the universe with a plethora of additional novels totaling to 23 with more on the way I believe (someone can correct me on this if I am wrong). Yet, for folks like me, the allure primarily lies in the first book and by proxy the original six. It’s a sentiment I’ve seen from my friends who have read the series to start with the first six, and then, if you desire, explore the rest. Though I can’t personally vouch for the subsequent volumes, I have heard Frank Herbert’s books are better than his sons’. However, I can say that this book holds up, but it also has some flaws that are worth discussing. No book is perfect right?
Plot & Prose - Deep in the human unconscious is a pervasive need for a logical universe that makes sense. But the real universe is always one step beyond logic.
Dune’s narrative is about a grand power struggle among the illustrious Great Houses in a distant future. Herbert intricately weaves a tale around a bitter feud between the Harkonnens and the noble Atreides family when the Emperor transfers control over the desert planet Arrakis from the former to the latter. At the story’s heart lies the young Paul Atreides, heralded as a prophet by the Freman and viewed as a mistake by the Bene Gesserit. It’s remarkable how Dune has spawned numerous adaptations, given its deliberate pacing and occasional meandering. Indeed, a fair chunk of the narrative is set with characters wandering the desert. There are “plots within plots,” as the characters indicate throughout the story and much of the “excitement” is centered around the political maneuverings of House Harkonnen, House Atreides, and the Emperor.
If my explanation seems a tad disjointed, it’s a reflection of the story’s complex narrative, which is hard to discuss without outright spoiling it. Yet, as I immersed myself in Dune’s pages, I couldn’t help but wonder how this movie had as many adaptations as it had. And Denis Villaneuve’s adaptation, remaining largely faithful to the source material while infusing it with vigor, stands as a testament to him as a director. However, don’t mistake the deliberate pacing for boring; I did find myself engrossed in it even when it slowed way down. It is set in the far future with space as a backdrop but much of the story is centered around Arrakis and that’s it. While that’s nitpicky, it is something to consider if you are expecting epic space battles and journeys through the cosmos this first book isn't that. It's setting up the larger series narrative as a whole.
Regarding the film adaptation, Dune: Part One for the most part faithfully adapts the initial half of the book, with minor deviations. Part Two, however, diverges more significantly from the book’s latter half, a choice I respect because it still captures the themes and tones of the story. Herbert’s writing style reminds me of religious texts like the Bible or Quran, which are two of the main inspirations in the novels exploration of themes surrounding faith and prophecy. The films also mitigate some of the pacing issues within the book, which suffers from abrupt time jumps that felt jarring to me.
The writing has its quirks, as I mentioned. At times, it feels repetitive, and Herbert’s approach to detail can be inconsistent. I found that my ability to visualize the narrative was greatly aided by the vivid imagery from the movie. I suspect that my younger self struggled partly due to difficulties in visualizing certain elements. For those yet to experience the movies, this might present a similar challenge. It’s a minor gripe, but one that I observed for myself.
Dune has some messages on environmental exploitation, conservation, and religion influencing and at times interfering with culture. However, it’s also filled with ideas that should remain in the time from which it comes from in its depictions of homosexuality and its treatment of some female characters. It’s something worth considering, a reminder to us that while certain ideas may transcend their era, others remain tethered to it.
Dune is worthy of being read, albeit with the caveat of approaching it with contextual awareness. Its uniqueness is undeniable, and I now understand why this work holds such esteemed regard.
**World-Building & Characters – “**Grave this on your memory, lad: A world is supported by four things..." she held up four big-knuckled fingers. "...the learning of the wise, the justice of the great, the prayers of the righteous and the valor of the brave. But all of these things are as nothing..." She closed her fingers into a fist. "...without a ruler who knows the art of ruling. Make that the science of your tradition!”
Though firmly set in the distant future with its spacefaring journeys, futuristic weaponry, and colossal sandworms, Dune maintains a surprisingly grounded and even fantastical feel to it. Combat involves a mix of shield technology and blades. While projectile weapons are present, their use against shields is prohibited as they risk triggering a catastrophic overload, akin to setting off a mini nuke. Within this futuristic setting, the mystical Bene Gesserit wield their power known as the Voice, manipulating and commanding those who fall under its sway. Prophecies, deities, prophets, and mythical creatures (have I mentioned the sandworms?!) They all coexist seamlessly in this universe.
What captivates me most about Dune is the intricate world meticulously crafted by Herbet. He plunges the reader headlong into this story, gradually unveiling hidden layers of its history as the story unfolds. It’s this lore that ensnared my imagination as I watched this movie, where even the most outlandish elements find coherence within its framework. To me, that’s the hallmark of exceptional world-building – where even the most outlandish ideas become plausible within the foundation of the author’s creation.
If I were to offer a solitary critique of this world-building endeavor, it would be the sandworms. While their presence is palpable and their cultural and religious significance to the Fremen and the ecology of Arrakis undeniable, I wished for more insight into their nature. But that’s a very minor nitpick.
If I were to pinpoint a particular weakness in this book, it would be the characterization. Paul Atreides, for instance, struck me as more compelling in the movie than in the book itself. I anticipated a deeper emotional depth, as depicted on screen, but in the book, he comes across more subdued. While this could be intentional, I found his early volatility, notably during his encounter with the Reverend Mother, gradually giving way to a more robotic demeanor. This transformation is explained due to his Mentat training, yet it leaves him feeling somewhat one-dimensional – a chosen one proficient in combat with peculiar abilities.
Don’t get me wrong, I admire Paul’s internal struggle as he grapples with the weight of his destiny to save Arrakis and its inhabitants while seeking vengeance for his family. However, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the character had more room to breathe in the movie portrayal, offering a more rounded character. Perhaps this was a deliberate choice; one could argue that Paul is a conflicted character who must suppress his emotions to harness his precognitive abilities effectively. Nonetheless, the film I felt provided a richer exploration that I felt wasn’t as captured in the book.
While the movie may have provided a boost to Paul’s character, I found Jessica to be more interesting in the book. While I admire Jessica’s portrayal in the film, I found the book delved deeper into her character. She is a formidable fighter, surpassing even the Fremen. Endowed with Bene Gesserit training, Jessica grapples with inner conflict, a facet that resonates more strongly in the book. Unlike the movie portrayal, where she appears to push Paul towards his destiny as the Lisan al-Gaib, in the book, she harbors a sense of fear towards him. Her apprehension stems from witnessing his transformation as the book goes on while also harboring a deep, deep love for him. I enjoyed reading her inner struggles more in the book, even though I love how she is portrayed in the movie.
On the other hand, the depiction of the Baron Harkonnen raises concerns. While Herbert intended to portray him as repugnant and vile, his characterization as the sole gay character in the book presents a troubling aspect that should be addressed. While a gay villain can offer nuanced storytelling, Herbert’s portrayal veers into troubling territory by associating his villainy with traits like obesity, depravity, pedophilia, and incestuous desires. Particularly unsettling is the implication of sexual assault against young male slaves resembling Paul. The movie showed us that you can make this character vile and disturbing without highlighting those other troubling aspects.
The transformation of Chani between the book and the movie stands out as a significant departure. Personally, I found the portrayal of Chani in the movie more compelling. She exudes greater agency, moving beyond a mere love interest for Paul. However, in the book, her role seems more limited, primarily serving as Paul’s romantic counterpart, with her significance diminishing at the conclusion. The agency bestowed upon her in the movie represents a welcome change though.
Conclusion & TLDR - It is impossible to live in the past, difficult to live in the present and a waste to live in the future.
Dune, despite its imperfections, stands as a cornerstone of science fiction. However, I acknowledge that it may not appeal to everyone. The aspects I highlighted should be taken into consideration, particularly the intricacies of its plot and writing style, which may pose challenges for some readers. Personally, my fascination with the universe depicted in the movies fueled my desire to read the book, and I eagerly anticipate continuing with Frank Herbert’s novels. For me, Dune served as a gateway to hard science fiction, a departure from my ventures into realms of strictly Star Wars novels. It introduced me to the wonderfully bizarre elements that influenced works like Star Wars, and ignited a desire to explore a genre I haven’t tapped into further. Despite its weird writing style and occasional pacing issues, I firmly believe beneath its quirks lies a narrative worthy of its acclaim. The cinematic adaptation enriched my experience by providing visual cues and offering an alternative interpretation of the story. I eagerly anticipate checking out other classics, such as Hyperion and Foundation. I am excited as well to eventually complete the rest of this series.

Cthulhu is the most well-known of gods in the Mythos, evidenced by the fact that it bears his name. Like, Azathoth, Cthulhu is a slumbering god. Cthulhu, however, has been known to wake from time to time. As such he is venerated at the Spring Equinox, a time of balance between light and dark.
The Feast of Cthulhu is a low-key affair, spent primarily in quiet and reflective meditation. The idea, of course, is to prepare the celebrant’s mind to connect with Cthulhu during a dream state.
While some Cthulhu cultists have been known to use substances such as DMT, LSD and other psychoactives to achieve this connection, their illegal nature makes procurement difficult for many. Legal producets such as Vitamin B6, Melatonin and 5-HTP or L-5-HTP are also used.
In addition, many participating in the Feast use what is known as the WILD method. WILD stands for “Wake-Initiation of Lucid Dreams.” A technique similar to self-hypnosis, some people believe that WILDs are not actual dreams, but are instead astral projection. In either case, it is a way to connect with The Sleeper of R’lyeh.
During the Feast of Cthulhu, celebrants are encouraged to spend time in solitary activities known to attract the attention of Dread Cthulhu. This includes writing and painting. Focusing these endeavors on Cthulhu is encouraged, but not necessarily required. Traditional meals during the feast include chicken, salmon and cheddar cheese, all of which are believed to increase the likelihood of dream contact with Dread Cthulhu.
Following the meal, the celebrant should lie down flat on their back in the “corpse” pose. The body should be fully relaxed, while the mind remains awake. With eyes closed, the celebrant should slow their breathing and heart rate. As sleep overtakes the physical body, the celebrant may see shapes or swirling colors. They should look at the images, but do not try to focus on them too intently. If successful, Dread Cthulhu will reach out to the dreamer and provide them with visions.
The traditional prayer of Ph’nglui mglw’nafh Cthulhu R’lyeh wgah’nagl fhtagn translates as “In his house at R’lyeh, dead Cthulhu waits dreaming.” As this indicates that his awakenings are a form of rebirth, parents wishing to indoctrinate their children in the Cthulhu faith often make use of symbols of springtime rebirth like eggs and rabbits, crafting gift baskets full of the candy replicas of the items.
PS: If you found this post interesting or helpful, please consider supporting the Fane by becoming a patron at www.patreon.com/faneofyogsothoth!

Introduction: Little Woodians Preschool in Dehradun is renowned for its holistic approach to early childhood education. With a commitment to nurturing young minds and fostering a love for learning, it stands out as a premier educational institution in the region. In this comprehensive review, we delve into the various aspects that make Little Woodians a top choice for parents seeking quality preschool education for their children.

1. Curriculum and Teaching Methodology: Little Woodians follows a well-rounded curriculum that integrates various learning domains such as cognitive, social, emotional, and physical development. The curriculum is designed to be developmentally appropriate, catering to the unique needs and interests of each child. The teaching methodology emphasizes hands-on learning experiences, interactive activities, and exploration, fostering creativity, critical thinking, and problem-solving skills.
2. Faculty and Staff: One of the key strengths of Little Woodians is its team of dedicated and experienced faculty and staff. Teachers are not only qualified but also passionate about early childhood education. They create a warm and nurturing environment where children feel safe, supported, and encouraged to thrive. The staff-to-child ratio ensures individualized attention, allowing teachers to focus on each child's strengths and areas for growth.
3. Facilities and Resources: Little Woodians boasts state-of-the-art facilities and resources designed to enhance the learning experience. The preschool is equipped with spacious classrooms, age-appropriate play areas, a well-stocked library, and indoor and outdoor recreational facilities. The school also utilizes educational technology to supplement classroom instruction and engage children in interactive learning activities.
4. Parental Involvement: Little Woodians recognizes the importance of parental involvement in a child's education and actively encourages parent participation. The school organizes regular parent-teacher meetings, workshops, and events to keep parents informed about their child's progress and involve them in the learning process. Additionally, parents are encouraged to volunteer in school activities and contribute to the school community.
5. Extracurricular Activities: In addition to academic learning, Little Woodians offers a wide range of extracurricular activities to enrich children's overall development. These include art and craft, music and dance, sports and physical education, storytelling, and nature walks. Such activities not only provide opportunities for children to explore their interests and talents but also promote socialization and teamwork.

Conclusion: Little Woodians Preschool in Dehradun truly stands out as a beacon of excellence in early childhood education. With its holistic approach, dedicated faculty, excellent facilities, and emphasis on parental involvement and extracurricular activities, it provides children with a solid foundation for lifelong learning and success. For parents seeking the best preschool experience for their children, Little Woodians is undoubtedly a top choice.

Every year on Mother's Day, my family goes back to the strict non-denominational church that my brothers and I grew up in to see my grandmother. My grandmother lives less than a minute away from our house, but is frankly, a religion-obsessed puritanical homebody who only lives for her faith. Throughout my life, we only ever see her at church over 30 minutes away. My family had left the church because my brothers and I WERE the kids and youth. I was the only teen, my brothers were the only kids, and we needed somewhere with a better youth environment. Also, Trumpism took our old congregation by storm and we didn't like the intermingling of politics and church services, as well as major problems with the leadership.
We've tried plenty of closer churches and even further, but nothing has been a good fit and we haven't found a solid community anywhere. I haven't gone to church in months until now.
It was nice to see familiar faces, though sad to see significantly less because the congregation is mostly older people. Plenty have passed away and the empty seats are sad to see, knowing who would have sat there. The older they get, the more saddening it is to see their worsening condition. I even found out this really sweet older couple was having marriage issues and the wife had become a really bitter person because of her husband's hearing loss.
Service itself was messy. The new preacher everyone raved about made absolutely no sense. He just brought up tangent after tangent, that tied to nothing, speedrunning the sermon and admitting to taking advantage of church money and resources while doing so. He also implied that child abuse doesn't exist and is a problem that adult children make up when talking about mother's day. That really hurt my mother, who was a victim of child abuse.
The closing prayer was...difficult for me to hear. The same families with the plethora of medical issues still had things going on, despite it being years since I last saw them. As they prayed to end the longtime suffering of those families, it made me feel like God wasn't there, if they continued to constantly suffer. The preacher was very disrespectful towards a family whose son has a rare disease that's harmed him since infancy, calling their suffering an example. The son is not doing well at all, he's 11 now and has been in and out of hospitals since birth. His quality of life is terrible and it breaks my heart that he hasn't and will likely never get to be a kid. To any of you reading this, please do pray for Levi and his family for his recovery and hopefully, cure.
Despite the old church ladies sending my mom and I birthday cards with 'WE HAVE MORE CHILDREN' in all caps, which was hilariously terrifying...there were about 2 new kids.
They don't have enough kids to split them up by grade level, so the preschoolers are grouped with 3rd and 4th graders. The "teen" class is 2 middle schoolers who aren't actually teens, and the "young adult" class was people well into their 30s and 40s that are married with kids.
My grandmother wanted me to try the "young adult" class. The students were the daughter of my mom's senior friend, well into her 30's with kids, my severely disabled uncle who is in his mid-40s, and the teacher and his assistant were in their 30s, married with kids. It wasn't really..."young" adults. I felt out of place and awkward with this small group of people who had known me since I was a baby.
That being said, there were good discussions and I actually got to really understand my uncle for the first time separate from my grandmother's extremist views. I contributed more to the discussion than anybody else and my points were well-appreciated and...pretty revolutionary to the small group who'd all grown up in church their entire lives and would never question leaving it because they'd have no social life without it. The topic was on walking away from faith, which is where I am now. I was glad I got to talk about this, but there was no merit because I cannot admit to these people that I lack faith because my grandmother would disown my entire side of the family. We weren't coming to cause drama on mother's day.
I apologize for my snappy, cynical tone, I just need somewhere to talk about this. I do miss my home church, I miss what it was, and I'm saddened that it can't really fill any spiritual voids for me. The thing about the classes just really hurt me. It felt like I was being lied to, even if I enjoyed the class somewhat.

Greetings, fellow cosmic voyagers, celestial wanderers, and aficionados of intergalactic intrigue! Today, I am excited to discuss Frank Herbert’s monumental masterpiece, Dune. Much like many of you, I suspect, I was excited to dive into this due to the incredible adaptations that have since been released. If we were to gauge the influence of Dune, it is nothing short of a seismic force within the science fiction realm. It stands as the cornerstone of the genre, akin to what Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings represents for the fantasy genre, or so I’ve been told by those who love this book. Dune isn’t merely a novel; it is a story that spawned a myriad of artistic endeavors from Stargate to Star Trek, and quite obviously Star Wars. Its imprint extends upon characters like Ned Stark, thrust into the maelstrom of the unknown, surrounded by adversaries, at the behest of his liege. I wouldn’t be surprised if George R.R. Martin was inspired by Duke Leto Atreides. So, the question is does Dune endure as a timeless classic, or has its acclaim been inflated? Well, let’s discuss! Fear not, dear travelers, for I shall refrain from divulging any major plot spoilers for those yet to tread Herbert’s world. And for those who have only watched the recent adaptations and are curious, I shall offer my perspective on that as well. Remember as always, the TLDR section at the end will provide a more concise review. Without further ado, let’s check out the blurb.

Set on the desert planet Arrakis, Dune is the story of the boy Paul Atreides, heir to a noble family tasked with ruling an inhospitable world where the only thing of value is the “spice” melange, a drug capable of extending life and enhancing consciousness. Coveted across the known universe, melange is a prize worth killing for...When House Atreides is betrayed, the destruction of Paul’s family will set the boy on a journey toward a destiny greater than he could ever have imagined. And as he evolves into the mysterious man known as Muad’Dib, he will bring to fruition humankind’s most ancient and unattainable dream.

General Overview & Background - The mystery of life isn't a problem to solve, but a reality to experience.
Honestly, this isn’t my first attempt at reading Dune. Back when I was younger, I stumbled upon it in the local library. I vividly recall my stepdad, who saw the original movie, said, “Oh man, this is a story about giant sandworms on a desert planet. I think you will like this.” At 14 years old that sounded awesome! I checked it out, but alas, I struggled through just a couple of chapters before surrendering. As with many things in life, reading is a journey that allows us to revisit a book when the time aligns just right. Dune proved to be precisely that for me.
Fast forward to recent times, I found myself immersed by the spectacle of Part Two in theaters. I honestly forgot I was watching a movie. As the credits rolled, I knew without a doubt that I had to delve deeper into the source material. So, when I saw that Amazon offered a deal on the first six books in the series, I knew it was time to try again.
Dune, released in 1965 and comprises six novels. However, it’s worth noting that Herbert’s son has expanded the universe with a plethora of additional novels totaling to 23 with more on the way I believe (someone can correct me on this if I am wrong). Yet, for folks like me, the allure primarily lies in the first book and by proxy the original six. It’s a sentiment I’ve seen from my friends who have read the series to start with the first six, and then, if you desire, explore the rest. Though I can’t personally vouch for the subsequent volumes, I have heard Frank Herbert’s books are better than his sons’. However, I can truly say that this book holds up, but it also has some flaws that are worth discussing. No book is perfect right?
Plot & Prose - Deep in the human unconscious is a pervasive need for a logical universe that makes sense. But the real universe is always one step beyond logic.
Dune’s narrative is about a grand power struggle among the illustrious Great Houses in a distant future. Herbert intricately weaves a tale around a bitter feud between the Harkonnens and the noble Atreides family when the Emperor transfers control over the desert planet Arrakis from the former to the latter. At the story’s heart lies the young Paul Atreides, heralded as a prophet by the Freman and viewed as a mistake by the Bene Gesserit. It’s remarkable how Dune has spawned numerous adaptations, given its deliberate pacing and occasional meandering. Indeed, a fair chunk of the narrative is set with characters wandering the desert. There are “plots within plots,” as the characters indicate throughout the story and much of the “excitement” is centered around the political maneuverings of House Harkonnen, House Atreides, and the Emperor.
If my explanation seems a tad disjointed, it’s a reflection of the story’s complex narrative, which is hard to discuss without outright spoiling it. Yet, as I immersed myself in Dune’s pages, I couldn’t help but wonder how this movie had as many adaptations as it had. And Denis Villaneuve’s adaptation, remaining largely faithful to the source material while infusing it with vigor, stands as a testament to him as a director. However, don’t mistake the deliberate pacing for boring; I did find myself engrossed in it even when it slowed way down. It is set in the far future with space as a backdrop but much of the story is centered around Arrakis and that’s it. While that’s nitpicky, it is something to consider if you are expecting epic space battles and journeys through the cosmos.
Regarding the film adaptation, Dune: Part One faithfully adapts the initial half of the book, with minor deviations. Part Two, however, diverges more significantly from the book’s latter half, a choice I respect because it still captures the themes and tones of the story. Herbert’s writing style reminds me of religious texts like the Bible or Quran, which are two of the main inspirations in the novels exploration of themes surrounding faith and prophecy. The films also mitigate some of the pacing issues within the book, which suffers from abrupt time jumps that felt jarring to me.
The writing has its quirks, as I mentioned. At times, it feels repetitive, and Herbert’s approach to detail can be inconsistent. I found that my ability to visualize the narrative was greatly aided by the vivid imagery from the movie. I suspect that my younger self struggled partly due to difficulties in visualizing certain elements. For those yet to experience the movies, this might present a similar challenge. It’s a minor gripe, but one that I observed for myself.
Dune has some progressive messages on environmental exploitation, conservation, and religion influencing and at times interfering with culture. However, it’s also filled with ideas that should remain in the time from which it comes from in its depictions of homosexuality and its depiction of women. It’s something worth considering, a reminder to us that while certain ideas may transcend their era, others remain tethered to it.
Dune is worthy of being read, albeit with the caveat of approaching it with contextual awareness. Its uniqueness is undeniable, and I now understand why this work holds such esteemed regard.
World-Building & Characters – “Grave this on your memory, lad: A world is supported by four things..." she held up four big-knuckled fingers. "...the learning of the wise, the justice of the great, the prayers of the righteous and the valor of the brave. But all of these things are as nothing..." She closed her fingers into a fist. "...without a ruler who knows the art of ruling. Make that the science of your tradition!”
Though firmly set in the distant future with its spacefaring journeys, futuristic weaponry, and colossal sandworms, Dune maintains a surprisingly grounded and even fantastical feel to it. Combat involves a mix of shield technology and blades. While projectile weapons are present, their use against shields is prohibited as they risk triggering a catastrophic overload, akin to setting off a mini nuke. Within this futuristic setting, the mystical Bene Gesserit wield their power known as the Voice, manipulating and commanding those who fall under its sway. Prophecies, deities, prophets, and mythical creatures (have I mentioned the sandworms?!) They all coexist seamlessly in this universe.
What captivates me most about Dune is the intricate world meticulously crafted by Herbet. He plunges the reader headlong into this story, gradually unveiling hidden layers of its history as the story unfolds. It’s this lore that ensnared my imagination as I watched this movie, where even the most outlandish elements find coherence within its framework. To me, that’s the hallmark of exceptional world-building – where even the most outlandish ideas become plausible within the foundation of the author’s creation.
If I were to offer a solitary critique of this world-building endeavor, it would be the sandworms. While their presence is palpable and their cultural and religious significance to the Fremen and the ecology of Arrakis undeniable, I wished for more insight into their nature. But that’s a very minor nitpick.
If I were to pinpoint a particular weakness in this book, it would be the characterization. Paul Atreides, for instance, struck me as more compelling in the movie than in the book itself. I anticipated a deeper emotional depth, as depicted on screen, but in the book, he comes across more subdued. While this could be intentional, I found his early volatility, notably during his encounter with the Reverend Mother, gradually giving way to a more robotic demeanor. This transformation is explained due to his Mentat training, yet it leaves him feeling somewhat one-dimensional – a chosen one proficient in combat with peculiar abilities.
Don’t get me wrong, I admire Paul’s internal struggle as he grapples with the weight of his destiny to save Arrakis and its inhabitants while seeking vengeance for his family. However, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the character had more room to breathe in the movie portrayal, offering a more rounded character. Perhaps this was a deliberate choice; one could argue that Paul is a conflicted character who must suppress his emotions to harness his precognitive abilities effectively. Nonetheless, the film I felt provided a richer exploration that I felt wasn’t as captured in the book.
While the movie may have provided a boost to Paul’s character, I found Jessica to be more interesting in the book. While I admire Jessica’s portrayal in the film, I found the book delved deeper into her character. She is a formidable fighter, surpassing even the Fremen. Endowed with Bene Gesserit training, Jessica grapples with inner conflict, a facet that resonates more strongly in the book. Unlike the movie portrayal, where she appears to push Paul towards his destiny as the Lisan al-Gaib, in the book, she harbors a sense of fear towards him. Her apprehension stems from witnessing his transformation as the book goes on while also harboring a deep, deep love for him. I enjoyed reading her inner struggles more in the book, even though I love how she is portrayed in the movie.
On the other hand, the depiction of the Baron Harkonnen raises concerns. While Herbert intended to portray him as repugnant and vile, his characterization as the sole gay character in the book presents a troubling aspect that should be addressed. While a gay villain can offer nuanced storytelling, Herbert’s portrayal veers into troubling territory by associating his villainy with traits like obesity, depravity, pedophilia, and incestuous desires. Particularly unsettling is the implication of sexual assault against young male slaves resembling Paul. The movie showed us that you can make this character vile and disturbing without highlighting those other troubling aspects.
The transformation of Chani between the book and the movie stands out as a significant departure. Personally, I found the portrayal of Chani in the movie more compelling. She exudes greater agency, moving beyond a mere love interest for Paul. However, in the book, her role seems more limited, primarily serving as Paul’s romantic counterpart, with her significance diminishing at the conclusion. The agency bestowed upon her in the movie represents a welcome change though.
Conclusion & TLDR - It is impossible to live in the past, difficult to live in the present and a waste to live in the future.
Dune, despite its imperfections, stands as a cornerstone of science fiction. However, I acknowledge that it may not appeal to everyone. The aspects I highlighted should be taken into consideration, particularly the intricacies of its plot and writing style, which may pose challenges for some readers. Personally, my fascination with the universe depicted in the movies fueled my desire to read the book, and I eagerly anticipate continuing with Frank Herbert’s novels. For me, Dune served as a gateway to hard science fiction, a departure from my ventures into realms of strictly Star Wars novels. It introduced me to the wonderfully bizarre elements that influenced works like Star Wars, and ignited a desire to explore a genre I haven’t tapped into further. Despite its weird writing style and occasional pacing issues, I firmly believe beneath its quirks lies a narrative worthy of its acclaim. The cinematic adaptation enriched my experience by providing visual cues and offering an alternative interpretation of the story. I eagerly anticipate checking out other classics, such as Hyperion and Foundation. I am excited as well to eventually complete the rest of this series.

I wrote an easy to digest, easy to understand step by step guide for how to worship spirits that are known as demons for those of you that are interested. If you are confused by too much flexibility given by other sources, this would be a great book to start with.
In this guide we will

1. Pick a demon to worship based on what they can do and how we feel about it. New practitioners tend to overthink this, so instead of thinking about all the other qualities, we'll just pick one and go.
2. We will build them an altar with the key ingredients of a) the colour associated with them b) a physical item that represents them, or their area of expertise and c) their sigil. For demons that do not have a sigil, I will teach you a simple methodology to craft a connective sigil chaos magick way. For people with no freedom, you will be building this altar in a digital space if nothing else is available.
3. We will learn thoughtless meditation. Or at the very least we will learn to sit still for 5 minutes in any position that is comfortable for you and will learn to recognise our incoming thoughts and the sounds that our environment naturally makes. Being familiar with yourself is VERY important when it comes to connecting to the spirits - if you don't know what is you and what is your environment then how are you going to recognise what is the spirit?
4. We will make weekly offerings of generic things, like water, in a way to remind us of our faith, remind us of our craft and have something to do to connect with it. I also explain the offerings made for their associative power and the offerings of gratitude, but for now you are new, so the only kind of offering that you'll do is one of reminder to yourself.
5. I will teach you how to invite the demon, how to communicate with the demon and how to develop that bond. This is the most important step.
6. Step 6 is optional. I will teach you how to properly pray if you want to involve prayer into your practice.
7. Step 7 is optional. I will teach you how to properly petition a demon for help. In general you can do this yourself with the knowledge from step 5, but these are just some extra good things to keep in mind.
8. Step 8 is optional. I will teach you some very basic spell workings in case you want to do something yourself too and will tell you where and when you can also involve a demon into that working.

The whole book is worded to make you understand that this is not the only way to do things and that the practice is very flexible, however before anyone can approach flexibility sometimes you just need someone to give you a very specific step by step. This is that step by step.
You will find the full guide available for free here. If you want to pay me for it, because you are nice, or just want to own the physical edition (it is the exact same thing) then it is also available on Amazon here.

The title is a bit of a joke, as I do hope that all of you are adults, or near adults.
Moving on to the topic at hand - I wrote an easy to digest, easy to understand step by step guide for how to worship spirits that are known as demons for those of you that are interested. If you are confused by too much flexibility given by other sources, this would be a great book to start with.
In this guide we will

1. Pick a demon to worship based on what they can do and how we feel about it. New practitioners tend to overthink this, so instead of thinking about all the other qualities, we'll just pick one and go.
   
2. We will build them an altar with the key ingredients of a) the colour associated with them b) a physical item that represents them, or their area of expertise and c) their sigil. For demons that do not have a sigil, I will teach you a simple methodology to craft a connective sigil chaos magick way. For people with no freedom, you will be building this altar in a digital space if nothing else is available.
   
3. We will learn thoughtless meditation. Or at the very least we will learn to sit still for 5 minutes in any position that is comfortable for you and will learn to recognise our incoming thoughts and the sounds that our environment naturally makes. Being familiar with yourself is VERY important when it comes to connecting to the spirits - if you don't know what is you and what is your environment then how are you going to recognise what is the spirit?
   
4. We will make weekly offerings of generic things, like water, in a way to remind us of our faith, remind us of our craft and have something to do to connect with it. I also explain the offerings made for their associative power and the offerings of gratitude, but for now you are new, so the only kind of offering that you'll do is one of reminder to yourself.
   
5. I will teach you how to invite the demon, how to communicate with the demon and how to develop that bond. This is the most important step.
   
6. Step 6 is optional. I will teach you how to properly pray if you want to involve prayer into your practice.
   
7. Step 7 is optional. I will teach you how to properly petition a demon for help. In general you can do this yourself with the knowledge from step 5, but these are just some extra good things to keep in mind.
   
8. Step 8 is optional. I will teach you some very basic spell workings in case you want to do something yourself too and will tell you where and when you can also involve a demon into that working.
   

The whole book is worded to make you understand that this is not the only way to do things and that the practice is very flexible, however before anyone can approach flexibility sometimes you just need someone to give you a very specific step by step. This is that step by step.
You will find the full guide available for free here. If you want to pay me for it, because you are nice, or just want to own the physical edition (it is the exact same thing) then it is also available on Amazon here.

First.. get 99 construction (or don't, but it helps a lot).
Yes you can have a 'maxed house' at 83/84 construction with +8 boost but your base level is what will show on the advertisement board. This means every host with a higher construction level will, by default, push lower levels to the bottom of the listing. There's a lot of 99 con hosts so any host under 99 will be disadvantaged.
There's a reason people prefer 99 con houses, it usually means the host has every upgrade available including all the niche teleports in portal nexus room (xeric's talisman, digsite, weiss, troll stronghold, etc.). A lot of players rely on these for farm runs/clue scrolls so yes missing these 'trivial' things will hurt your success as a host.

1. Bring something productive to do while hosting (or don't). I recommend alchables produced by a processing skill like crafting/smithing (dhide bodies, addy plates etc.). By doing this you mitigate wasted in-game time where you would otherwise just be standing around, and you can still be semi-afk. It also makes money, not a huge amount but if you're hosting some long hours on a good day it supplements gp from tips and gives magic xp. Hours can really fly by fast and it adds up.
   
2. Don't undervalue your time/PoH.
   

If you've been hosting awhile with lots of people pouring into your house the entire time and no one has tipped anything, consider closing your house until another time.
You could be doing anything else but instead you're in your PoH hosting and giving people valuable bonus prayer xp and free teleports. Don't let the cheap asses have free reign.. and there's a lot of them.
Let them go back to the botted PoH hosts with no burners lit, or the ones with suboptimal layouts and missing amenities.
If you have a lot of people in your house, it's because it's worth using.
You are giving them free marrentil's, your time, saving them money, and offering the fruits of at least 10's of millions of GP pissed away on the skill that is construction.
Money they now don't have to spend themselves. Let them settle for less and get what they pay for.
I say this as someone who regularly makes millions in tips when I host.
If it wasn't worth my while, I wouldn't be here now sharing my experience. :)

1. Be aware that some of the hosts that are seemingly on 24/7 are not playing by the rules like everyone else.

Certain hosts use shared accounts with bots who light the burners so they don't have to do anything but be logged in.. make sure to report these bots as often as you can to cause as much damage as possible to these cheaters (some of us hosts do care).
I'm already seeing less activity from them and legitimate hosts are rising up.
It doesn't matter how 'helpful' botted hosts are or have been in the past, they are blatantly cheating and devaluing everyone else's efforts. This will also help reduce the amount of cheap asses I mentioned earlier as demand for honest PoH's goes up.

1. Consider partnering with bone running fc and/or other hosts. This is mutually beneficial and helps build each other's brand.. and everyone profits. There's a lot of generous donors looking for valuable services to save them a great deal of time. :)

There's plenty more but this is just a quick summary.. happy hosting (hope this is helpful to new hosts).

Hi! We will be leaving our preschool in May that we have been at for 3 years. I have loved both my kids' teachers and will be sad to leave them. My kids will be too. We have to leave because of some financial hardships now that we have two kids in daycare. My dad is retiring from teaching and will watch them starting in August and I'm a high school teacher so I'll have them in the summer. I want to get a small goodbye/thank you gift for the teachers but we are on a really tight budget. My idea is to make little beaded bracelets with their name "Miss Chloe" etc and then to include a word that my kid says describes them like "funny." I'll also include a simple heart charm bracelet that I make. Along with a nice card my kid makes and we write something nice in. Is this an ok idea? My kid and I love crafts and I have a bunch of beads. My other idea was plastic cups with lids and straws that I put their name on with my cricut and vinyl I have (I have cups too from getting a bunch on sale a while ago). I just thought the bracelets was more personal. Preschool teachers, what would you appreciate most?

“Warning!” the female voice flatly intoned, “Critical systems failure! Activating safety pod.” Link to 1st chapter here: 1st chapter on
A set of hard panels shot up out of the floor and enclosed Rene from all sides, fitting seamlessly into airtight coffin and leaving only a round porthole of thick glass for him to peer out of. The interior of the tight space was furnished with gelatinous cushions supporting his spine, head and neck. Flexible straps extended from hidden slots above his shoulders and either side of his waist, wrapping him in so tight he could barely breathe.
“What’s going on?” he demanded of the Engine.
“Shutdown procedure in progress. Have a very safe day.”
“Oy! I asked you a question.”
“Warning! Ejection sequence imminent. Warning! Brace for takeoff. Brace for takeoff. Brace—”
Rene did not have time to scream— though he couldn’t have done so even if he’d wanted to. All the breath was driven out of his body as the iron sarcophagus shot straight upwards with explosive force. In instant he was ripped away from the dome and shunted out through a tube, lobbed like a stone from the arm of a catapult. He saw flashes of sunlight flickering past, the stony ground reeling away from him as he sped towards the heavens at hundreds of feet a second. Wisps of low-hanging cumulous clouds caressed the porthole, leaving streaks of dewy precipitation.
The craft’s velocity eventually bled off under the influence of gravity, and suddenly everything went perfectly still, a surreal and oddly peaceful moment where his arms gently floated up to the ceiling. His guts, which had been compressed under enormous acceleration, now relaxed. Feeling immensely grateful, Rene took a welcome gulp of air—only for it to be hammered right out of him again as his innards decided to reverse course, crunching upwards along the meagre contents of his stomach which now spewed out of his mouth in an uncontrollable torrent of vomit and spittle, coating the inside of the porthole. Through levitating gobs of half-digested food Rene saw that the craft was now in total free fall. Gone was the mad chessboard of the karst canyons and towers, replaced by a verdant rainforest that stretched well beyond the horizon, a shining brown river snaking through the impenetrable green.
“Initiating aerobraking maneuvers,” said a bodiless male voice, harsher and more metallic than that of the Engine, “Please remain calm.”
“Hnggng,” Rene groaned, giving it a thumbs up. His optimism evaporated when something ruptured in the bulkhead above him with a loud bang.
Wonderful, Rene thought with a sardonic grin. Damn thing’s going to fall apart before I even hit the ground. He heard the flapping of canvas and glanced up to see the flapping edge of what looked like a great big tent spreading open above him. The tent was attached to the coffin via taut black cables which were thrumming from a great deal of tension. One of them snapped apart under the immense forces at work, the split end slicing right past his porthole. The tent began to spin uncontrollably, jostling the coffin like it was a tin can being kicked down the road. Throughout all this, Rene was treated to the dubious pleasure of having the vomit on the porthole peel off and reapply itself all over his face.
This is how I die, Rene thought glumly. Covered in my own filth, squealing like a pig and trapped in an iron coffin built sometime in the previous millennia.
“Aerobraking unsuccessful. Please remain calm.”
“I’m…trying…” he replied through gritted teeth.
“Compensating. Compensating.”
There was a second bang and the cables were all severed, the big tent floating away into the clouds.
“Unable to compensate. Initiating lithobraking maneuvers. Brace for impact.”
There was a third and final eruption, this time from somewhere under his feet. He peeked down and saw four massive bladders rapidly inflating at the base of the coffin. A forest clearing was rushing up to meet him, and from the look of things, it was packing a nasty knuckle sandwich. Commending his soul to the Eternal Flight, Rene silently offered up a prayer to the ancestor-gods:
“Hello there. I’m not entirely sure how to do this, so I’ll keep it brief. I have only one thing to ask of you: I left certain…illustrations…under my bunk at home. Illustrations depicting young ladies in rather indecent postures. Whatever happens to me, don’t let my mother find them—”
Boing!
The coffin struck the ground at full force and bounced right off. A stand of trees reached out to catch it. Wood splintered and branches scratched against the side of the craft. A hefty bough smacked into the porthole and produced a worrying crack in the glass that grew larger and larger with every bump and snag.
At last, with a final whallop to the side of the coffin that set Rene’s teeth rattling in his gums, the craft rolled to a halt. Rene opened his eyes and found to his disbelief that he was still alive.
“Still alive?” he wondered aloud, wiping his lips and breathing shakily. When the buzz of adrenaline ebbed and he finally processed what had just occurred, Rene burst out in a mad cackle:
“Aha! Ah-ha hah! I’m still alive, you bastards!”
Who exactly he was referring to, Rene wasn’t sure. But it felt good to say those words all the same.
“Lithobraking maneuver successful,” the safety pod belatedly informed him, “Thank you for choosing Exodus Industries. Your future, built today!”
“If that’s your idea of success, I’d hate to see what you’d call a failure,” Rene joked, still giddy from the experience, “As for my future, do you have any ideas on how I could prolong it?”
“Safety pod hull integrity is compromised. Foreign contaminants have entered the compartment. Recommend immediate antifungal dosage.”
A groove on the wall of the coffin slid open to offer him the contents of a tiny drawer. In it was a strange object nestled in an indented mold. It was shaped like a pistol with trigger and all, but in the place of the barrel was a syringe filled with a dubious orange liquid in a transparent capsule. Next to the pistol were two identical capsules likewise holding the same substance.
“Hm,” Rene grunted, “Did you say antifungal?”
“Affirmative. Once injected, it will counteract the effects of native spores for up to 48 hours, standard Terran.”
Rene could hardly believe it. A remedy against infection from airborne spores was the holy grail of modern science. It was the second great hurdle that the Fleet faced in its struggle to reclaim the surface world, right after the deadly atmosphere.
“Terran?” he repeated, “That’s where the gods were born, correct?”
The safety pod did not reply. Sighing, Rene tried to work free of the restraints binding him to the seat but found the task harder than expected. Then her remembered that he had a tiny clasp knife in his trouser pocket and used it to cut himself free of the upholstery.
“Do you have anything else that’s of use to me, pod?” he asked, turning his attention to the syringe and examining it thoughtfully?
“A full survival kit is available in the foot locker.”
Another, even larger drawer opened up between his feet, containing a compact white chest held shut with airtight seals.
“Right. Thanks,” he said awkwardly.
Rene stooped to open it and felt something wet and heavy inside the seat of his trousers. Sniffing at it inquisitively, he gagged and added: “I don’t suppose you could conjure up a bucket of water and some soap? I’m afraid I’ve made a bit of a mess.”

Link for all the chapters available here: Engines of Arachnea on Royal Road

Defenders are in a weird spot. they're not technically unusable, but they've been massively feature creeped by existing options. This small suggestion would make defenders have their own viable niche in a world dominated by spirit shields and bone shield.
Note that all effects would take a major once over by jagex staff and these are just ideas to get things rolling

overview

the gist of this update is pretty simple;

• defenders now get a unique "parry" mechanic
• each tier of defender past rune has their own unique passive effect while parrying.
• and are upgradeable to and past t90
• and a few extra types of defender from M/S which would serve as the "baseline" versions.

Parry window

the parry window mechanic is pretty simple, when equipping a defender bash will be altered to "parry" executing bash within 1-4 ticks of an incoming attack (defender dependant) or ability will cancel the damage taken and add a portion (say 40%?) of the damage into the attack. this gives you a greatly wider array of defensive and offensive options.
each defender has a different "Sweetspot" to achieve this 100% damage nullification (50% against hard typeless and 75% against soft), otherwise it will have no effect
note defender abilities WILL override boneshield save for its passive damage reduction

Passives, new boss defenders & upgrading past 90

each defender tier will have a new passive effect that alters the parry window and adds extra effects onto your outgoing parry.
further all unique defenders can be upgraded to t90 and t95 with specific materials and have a different parry window (time to nullify damage)
Defender typeupgrade t90upgrade t95passive(s)parry window time dragon200 draconic energy + a drained blackstone heart (rare drop from ED1/2/3 with at least a t70 defender present). can be converted to ranged with a dragon crossbow (any of the three) in additon to the listed materials or magic with a dragon staff to make a dragon repriser and lanternattach a remnant of chaos, drops from zamorak with the prerequisite defender on hand (at least level 90). Consumes 200 undead dragonhide(noted) and an alchemical hydrix to finalize upgrades to t95Draconic rage, perfect parries activate an effect similar to berserk for 3 seconds (1.25x damage increase and 25% damage increase). Damage absorbed is not added into your next attack's damage unlike stock standard defenders 1 tick Barrowsattach an orb of pure malevolence (very rare drop from ROTS or forge with 2.5k malevolent energy, 99, rc, crafting and smithing and a ROTS shield) attach a remnant of chaos, drops from zamorak with the prerequisite defender on hand (common solo at higher rages, rare in a trio). further requires a spirit shield of a matching style (sigiled) acts as a barrows weapon for the sets allowing greater variety of weapon choice at lower levels, weapon can be "enhanced" with a spesific brothers weapon, giving 10% of the set effect of choice during parry window. heals damage taken during a perfect parry instead of adding it into extra damage4 ticks Ancientattach an orb of manipulative energy, an uncommon drop for AoD or extremely rare drop from Nex plusattach a remnant of chaos, drops from zamorak with the prerequisite defender on hand. further requires an AOD weapon to solidify. enhances the protection of ancient prayers and SS healing by 5%. Perfect parry converts a portion of the damage negated into prayer points and passively enhances the damage of ancient spells by 10% (includes sennistine). this effect stacks with other increases to ancient magic damage. For ranged and melee passively enhances bleed damage by making them soft typeless ensuring maximum damage possible. 2 ticks Kalphiteforged as t90. attach a remnant of chaos, drops from zamorak with the prerequisite defender on hand. further requires a completed t92 khopesh or blessings. Perfect parries inflict beetle juice on a target. Targets hit with beetle juice take greatly increased damage for the duration of the effect (6s) and are more susceptible to stuns and bleeds (10% duration and damage increase). Allows for dive to act like bladed dive on all styles when casting dive near a beetlejuice inflicted target and halves cooldown for bladed dive on melee.2 ticks ElderDrops as t90, crafted from a t92 offhand + 10k glacior remnants + 5k of each elder anima and a "binding resonance" can be obtained as a rare drop from hardmode AG (500% enrage or higher) hardmode kerepac, or hardmode zuk, zuk guarantees it on a flawless hardmode. the rest are a 1/50 with the prerequisite defender on handattach a remnant of chaos, drops from zamorak with the prerequisite defender on hand. can be attuned to a specific elder god with different effects on each style for 5k anima each.the base defender doesn't do much besides reduce all damage taken by 5%. Where it shines is being attuned to a spesific elder god. Jas does not add extra damage when nullifying but instead increases your accuracy and damage against a target (up to 30%) at max buff reduces damage taken till maxed. Bik adds a typeless poison to the target, further parries refreshes the debuff and increases the damage it deals (up to 150% of weapon damage). Ful provides a better version of the dragon defender's effect (1.5x without the vulnerability increaing past 25%) and increases bleed duration by 2s passively. Wen creates a field of ice spikes that stun bind and leap to nearby targets giving it excelent crowd control. all defender types have a chance to instantly force a EGWD godbook effect to trigger on perfect parry1-3ticks (jas and bik are 1, ful is 3 and wen is 2, unattuned default is 2) Tetsu Wakazashi (and elite)N/AN/Aperfect parry immediately follows up with an extra strike on your next ability dealing 30% of that abilities damage, this effect has a 20s cooldown.1 tick

craftable defenders

craftable defenders are made via M/S, they can be upgraded twice each except masterwork, materials listed are the total resources required to create, do note though that gemstones are required in the second upgrade.

defender	materials	window	augmentable?	passive effects
Orikalkum	20 Orik bars (melee), 15 orik bars + 5 dragonstone (magic), 15 orik bars + 4 yew logs and a crossbow string (ranged)	3	no	none, adds damage taken back into the weapon
nercrite	20 necrite bars (melee), 15 bars + a TOG magic stone (magic), 15 bars + 4 magic logs and a bow string	3	no	none, see above
bane	20 bane bars (melee), 15 bars + onyx (magic), 15 bars + 4 cursed magic logs and a crossbow string. can be attuned to a target like normal bane weapons at max upgrade	3	yes (if attuned)	none till fully upgraded, adds bane effect
elder rune	20 elder rune bars (melee), 15 bars + two onyx and a moonstone, 4 elder logs and 20 onyx dust. all three require two pheonix feathers as well	2	yes	main draw is it is augmentable beyond the bonus damage. sometimes inflicts a low typeless bleed during perfect parry from the burn.
masterwork	1 hydrix, 5 masterwork bars, 5 elder logs	2	yes	hybrid defender, acts as an offhand for all three styles making it unique. delays damage like MW and when worn with MW has a small chance to instantly clear half your remaining deferred damage and inflict it as soft typless on a target