Before submitting a comment about an issue, the #1 thing any user should do when they first experience issues with a new update is to follow these troubleshooting steps.

If issues still persist despite the efforts made in this thread, report the issue to cricut.

⭐⭐Print then Cut users⭐⭐
Calibrate your machine right after an update as your calibration settings will not carry over into the latest update. Follow the advice of the calibration guide. Then do a test print then cut of your project using plain printer paper.
If for some reason after calibration your cuts are still inaccurate, clear cache (the troubleshooting guide above this) and try calibration again.

If you are experiencing issues despite clearing cache, please give some background information:

• Cricut machine (Joy, Joy Xtra, Explore Air 2, Explore air 3, Maker, Maker 3, etc.).
• Device (Windows 10, Window 11, Mac, iPhone, iPad, Android).
• Type of project you were attempting to do. (Basic cut, print then cut, drawing, foiling, scoring, etc.)
• Were you successful in doing this project in the past? Or is this a new project?

What has changed (Desktop v8.30.64)? Update on May 6, 2024.

Fixed field issues: This release

• The ability to customize the Card project enables users to select specific sizes and personalize them according to their preferences.
  
• After disabling specific contours, the bounding box encloses the remaining ones within the Canvas.
  
• Images not uploading.
  
• Upon selecting, it appears that some of the ‘Make It Now’ projects in the Canvas have disappeared.
  
• Right-clicking and selecting “View image sets” from the Layers panel often displays irrelevant images.
  

Last 6 weeks:
Over the last 6 weeks we've fixed 74 software defects, including the following priority field issues and reliability concerns:

• The ability to customize the Card project enables users to select specific sizes and personalize them according to their preferences.
  
• After disabling specific contours, the bounding box encloses the remaining ones within the Canvas.
  
• Images not uploading.
  
• Upon selecting, it appears that some of the ‘Make It Now’ projects in the Canvas have disappeared.
  
• Right-clicking and selecting “View image sets” from the Layers panel often displays irrelevant images.
  
• Selecting certain fonts in the font selection process is causing delays in rendering on the Canvas
  
• The text box fails to load on the Canvas, and adding a text field in Chinese is not possible
  
• Changes made to the latest project are lost upon sharing.
  

- Draw projects are being opened as cuts instead of drawings, resulting in a color change.
- Save a project on iOS, then open it on desktop, and notice that the changes fail to appear.

• The Canvas tab disappears and it takes longer for the Canvas tab to load.
  
• The saved project only shows letters on the Canvas, but double-tapping the text box reveals the entire sentences.
  
• After finishing cutting the mat that's off-screen, the scrollbar scrolled back to the top instead of moving to the next mat.
  
• My Stuff doesn't show any projects, and the collection is displayed without a name.
  
• Follow button is not working on profile page
  
• Profile links that are copied and pasted shows Blank home page.
  
• Forever stuck on the project details page, with both the customize and make buttons greyed out.
  
• Print Then Cut images appear distorted or the print preview is not accurate
  
• Print Then Cut images did not appear correctly on the cut screen.
  
• The Print Then Cut quality warning message is preventing the user from proceeding to make it.
  
• Clicking "View All" on recent uploads either redirects to the Inspire/Discover page or results in the inability to access the full set of uploaded images.
  
• The Canvas performance drastically slows down when inserting high-quality uploaded images.
  
• The functionality of the automatic background remover has stopped working.
  
• Uploaded high-resolution images, those above 300 DPI, are displaying low-resolution warnings.
  
• When uploading an image with a resolution exceeding 300 DPI, it undergoes downsizing, accompanied by a low-resolution warning message for each uploaded image.
  
• The image icon that regulates the number of images per line remains unresponsive.
  
• The image loses focus when resized, and after hiding contour and resizing, it becomes impossible to move the image upward in the Canvas.
  
• There are performance issues with Warp, as it takes more than a second to enter edit mode and experiences lag when additional characters are entered. Additionally, after completing editing and clicking outside the box, there is a delay.
  
• There's no prompt to confirm unsaved changes, and the previous unsaved Canvas disappears without any notification to replace or save it.
  
• Using the keyboard shortcut cmd + shift + left arrow key to highlight everything results in improper rendering of the highlight.
  
• When opening Image Sets, the images load closely together, and the Image Set name tile appears misplaced, positioned between the top and second row instead of the first row.
  
• When performing combine, subtract, intersect, or exclude operations and attaching them, the color or operations remains unchangeable.
  
• Upon launching the app, users encounter a white screen, a continuous spinner, and a missing refresh token.
  
• Even after power cycling and setting the load to go, the -18 machine connection error continues to persist
  
• When hovering over the mat control multiple times, the mat preview fails to appear.
  
• When toggling the mirror function, the mat selection jumps, causing the left side to scroll back to the top.
  
• Cannot remove images from a collection
  
• Completing the product setup for a second time with a different machine leads to going to the "Get Started" page without setting the correct machine type.
  
• The "Get Started" page on the left rail and the pointer finger suggest that there's a reason to click there.
  
• It's not possible to unlike projects, and an error message stating "unable to remove likes" is displayed.
  
• The bookmark icon fails to switch to "bookmarked" for image sets
  
• The private profile message fails to display, and opening a project link leads to an empty Canvas without the project
  
• The shared profile links are incomplete, leading to the home page instead of directing to the profile
  
• Card Mat - If users attempt to make or customize without selecting a finished size, they will be prompted with the error message, "Select a Finished Size to continue
  
• When adding a photo to the Project details, it's observed that the image is zoomed in excessively, making it impossible to zoom out sufficiently to display the entire photo.
  
• It is not possible to cancel a full-page Print Then Cut project from the Mat Prepare screen.
  

-After completing the cut with Print Then Cut and Basic Cut operations attached, the mat remains unloaded.
-Performing a second search after the initial one yields no results
-Attempting to open a project with numerous sticker groups results in the Canvas displaying a perpetual spinner, rendering the project inaccessible.
-Loading stickers with multi-layered complex projects from project details takes considerable time to customize or make, typically ranging from 5 to 7 minutes.

• The custom border feature fails to function properly with complex shapes and does not create sticker-cut interior shapes combinations as intended.
  
• The Offset function fails to work with intricate PNGs for creating sticker-cut interior shapes combinations, and the Apply button remains disabled, accompanied by a continuous green bar.
  
• When deleting a Warp within a sticker group, the border is not redrawn.
  
• When resizing the sticker image using the Kiss cut & Die-cut Edge option, the image vanishes from the Canvas.
  
• After ungrouping and regrouping the text, the font toolbar is unavailable for the group.
  
• Apostrophes and quotes fail to transform into their left-right variants, causing coded single and double quote marks to appear instead of the anticipated left and right variants.
  
• Text is positioned closer to the bottom right corner, resulting in incorrect text placement after opening a new Canvas and adding new text
  
• When using the delete button on the laptop to erase text, it becomes evident that the undo and redo functions are not operating correctly.
  
• After changing a color or moving an image, the undo feature fails to function.
  
• Users have the ability to delete uploaded images when using new Image Inspiration designs.
  
• When attempting to upload an image, a message indicating "unable to upload image" is displayed, prompting users to check their internet connection.
  
• The learning plan redirects to the Canvas instead of remaining on the home page.
  
• When the uploaded image is added to the Canvas, it displays an image load failure.
  

iOS

Version 5.67.0 was released on May 13, 2024.

App Improvements
Bug fixes and performance enhancements.

Read more about the update in the Apple Store.

Android

Version 5.59.0 was released on May 13, 2024.

App Improvements
Bug fixes and performance enhancements.

Read more about the update in the Google Play Store.

The garage door shut with a groan behind us, closing us in the gloom of the single bulb hanging over the car.
Mother took a drag off her cigarette and sighed as she exhaled, the smoke filled the cabin of the Ford and stung my eyes.
“You really disappointed me today, Julianne," she tapped her cigarette in the ashtray below the dash, "you embarrassed me in front of the other mothers at the Ice Cream Social, shoveling down seconds and thirds like a pig. I thought I raised you better than that.”
She took another drag, daintily holding the cigarette between her perfectly manicured fingers.
“I'm going to have to tell your brother about this," she continued, “he'll have to come up with a punishment fit for a pig."
I felt my stomach drop. My kid brother, Thomas, was only six, but could be exceptionally cruel. Mother seemed to encourage him and was deferring to him more and more frequently for how the house was run, especially concerning my upbringing.
"Mother, please, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you. I'm sorry I was a pig and ate so much ice cream. I promise I won't do it again, I'll never eat any ice cream again," I was pleading with stone, unyielding.
“Hush your mouth. Go to your room and wait for Thomas," she put out the cigarette and got out of the car, I had no choice but to follow.
It felt like walking to the gallows as I stepped inside the house and headed towards the stairs to go to my room. Thomas had grown fond recently of physical punishment, he obviously delighted in Mother whipping me with a belt or, recently, Mother had allowed him to start beating me with a wooden spoon. He would squeal and giggle like a normal child watching bubbles in the wind while I screamed. I was dreading whatever was going to happen tonight, I chastised myself for eating that ice cream, I should have known she would show up. My sins were always laid bare.
Down the hall, I could hear Thomas watching television in the den. I only got to watch TV for half an hour on Saturday morning and new episodes of Happy Days with Mother and Thomas. Thomas got to watch all the TV he wanted. He could listen to the radio and turntable as much as he wanted, as loud as he wanted. Thomas had an entire room just for his toys.
I entered my bedroom, it was a space I occupied, but it didn't feel like mine. Mother kept it spartan, white walls and white bedspread. A crucifix over the bed and a painting of Jesus over the door. I had my desk and chair and a dresser with some of the porcelain dolls Daddy gave me before he died that Mother let me keep. That was it.
I placed my book bag down and sat on my bed, waiting for Thomas. It was a while, sitting there with nothing but my own thoughts and staring at the open door. I felt humiliated, I was almost thirteen and my entire life was dictated by my brother. Mother kept the house in constant lockdown to keep Thomas a secret. No outsiders were allowed in. I couldn't have friends because she was afraid I would mention him or sneak a friend in to gawk at my brother and tease him for being different.
I would never make fun of him, I was terrified of him. Terrified of what he was and what he was becoming.
Eventually I heard his heavy footsteps coming up the stairs and I felt my heart start beating faster and my palms began to sweat. I kneaded my skirt in my hands, trying to calm myself and dry my palms. His slow arrhythmic footsteps came down the hall and I watched him as he entered the room.
I couldn't help but internally recoil at his appearance, even though I'd known him since he was born, I could never adjust to how unnatural he appeared. Thomas had been born at home and had never seen a doctor, but he was obviously unwell.
He was six years old and was barely over two feet tall, but very squat and wide. His skin was thick and gray, the whites of his beady eyes were yellow and his hair was wispy and white like an old man's, spreading out like a halo around his gargoyle face. A slight odor of decomposition hung about him, it reminded me faintly of garbage cans on a hot summer day. I hated when Mother made me help him with a bath, his skin felt like old brittle leather that flaked onto my clothes in gray flecks. His body was dense like concrete, I could barely lift him into the tub. Picking him up forced his hair into my face where that smell of rot would fill my nose, causing me to gag, silently, so as not to offend him and draw any ire from him or Mother.
Today, Thomas was wearing bib overalls with a red and green striped sweater underneath, reminding me of a grotesque doll.
“Mama says you acted like a piggy today at the ice cream social,” he spoke up to me in his unsettlingly high pitched, yet raspy voice, like a child that smoked as much as Mother, "you need to come down for dinner right now for your punishment for embarrassing Mama."
He turned and walked back down the stairs and I had no choice but to follow his toddling form downstairs to the dining table. We entered the kitchen and the table was placed with two settings. Mother was already seated and Thomas clambered up into his booster seat at his normal spot next to Mother. She took a drag off her cigarette and motioned vaguely to the floor without even looking at me.
Neatly situated on the linoleum was my dinner, not on a plate, but directly on the floor. A pork chop, scoop of mashed potatoes, and a small pile of peas. No utensils, either.
Thomas giggled with glee upon seeing my face.
“You have Mama's permission now to eat like a piggy, now. No hands! Piggies just use their face!” He stood up in his chair and reached out for Mother’s ash tray and flung it out over my meal, peppering my dinner with cigarette ash and butts.
"Oops! Piggies don't mind trash though, do they, Mama?” he giggled and the sound filled me with rage.
"No, they don't,” Mother replied coolly while maneuvering her ashtray back in place and carefully putting out her cigarette before saying prayer.
As angry as I was, I got down on my hands and knees and did my best at eating what I could without using my hands. I knew if I refused, it would be far worse. The whole meal, Thomas made pig noises and would reach down and poke me with his fork, making comments about what a fat piggy I was and how he wished he could roast and eat me. I doubted Mother would even object if he actually did kill me and eat me.
Gagging my way through another bite of ashy pork chop, I felt a warm splat over my head and heard Thomas giggling. I reached up and felt he had dumped mashed potatoes into my hair.
Choking down tears, I asked Mother if I could clean the floor and bathe. She rolled her eyes and excused me to clear the table for them as well while she changed Thomas into his pajamas. Picking him up, she walked out of the room and Thomas stuck his putrid little purple tongue out at me before they made it out the kitchen door.
I silently cried while I cleared the table and washed the dinner dishes. Tears splashed down as I mopped up the mess from my food on the floor. I hated how awful Thomas was. I hated how they treated me. Ever since Daddy died and Thomas showed up, I was their punching bag. I missed Daddy so much.
Mother was kinder then, too. She was still severe, but Dad kept her tempered. After he died, there was a change that came over her. I was only six, so I didn't remember her too much from before, but I did remember her gushing on and on when she was pregnant with Thomas. How the baby was a gift from Our Heavenly Father, that it was going to complete our broken family.
My sixth birthday happened right after Daddy died and I remember sitting on the patio crying while the house was full of people after the funeral, normally he would have gotten me a new doll and a chocolate bar, instead I was forgotten. No doll. No chocolate. Just funeral potatoes and a house full of cigarette smoke from the adults.
Nobody remembered. The closest thing I got was my dad's sister, Aunt Judy, sitting next to me on the patio step for a few minutes of comfortable silence before giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. I don't think she knew her brother was memorialized on my birthday. Next year, Thomas was born the day before my birthday, so it was completely eclipsed as Mother had just birthed her new love into the world…
I stopped mid mop as a lightbulb finally went off. I had never put much thought into the dates before.
Thomas was born a full year after Daddy died. He couldn't be his dad. Who was Thomas’ actual father?
Washing mashed potatoes out of my hair that evening, I ran over and over the timeline. No matter how I parsed it out, Thomas was only my half brother. Going to bed that night, I kept myself awake, going over and over again to make sure. I couldn't remember any men being around at that time, but that didn't mean much. Adults can easily hide things from children. Tension began throbbing through my head and I felt queasy. Mother had always known all of my secrets, able to sniff them out like a bloodhound out or using Thomas to spy. Now I had one of Mother's secrets and I didn't know what to do with it.
First I wanted to confirm it, but it would mean snooping, which was difficult in a house that was rarely left empty. I would have to try finding Mother's calendar book or journal to see if she mentioned any dates or men.
But when could I attempt such a daring maneuver? Thomas hardly left the house. As proud as Mother was of him, she was very cognizant and protective of his differences and didn't want to draw attention to herself or Thomas like that. Mother herself had few social engagements throughout the week and mostly stayed home to watch her golden child.
I finally decided I would take the risk and fake sick on Tuesday, grocery day, so I could stay home from school while she went shopping. All Thomas did all day was watch TV downstairs, so that should give me about an hour to look through her room for clues. I decided to tuck my head down, try to behave as best as I could to avoid their wrath, and wait for Tuesday.
That weekend limped along agonizingly slow. Thomas was in a fine mood and was constantly seeking out a reason to poke me, punch me, slap me… he'd laugh while calling me a piggy with his off-putting wide mouth. I tried to mostly stay in my room and it seemed like neither of them cared.
School on Monday was a relief, but my anxiety ramped up. The consequences would be dire if Mother caught on that I was faking sick to stay home. I didn't even want to imagine how off the leash she'd let my half-brother become in his punishment for that level of insubordination.
I stayed up all night, my stomach was in knots, but I was committed to my plan. Throughout the night, I screamed as hard as I could into my pillow. Screamed until my throat was raw and I could barely talk. It felt cathartic in a way. When it was close to school time, I put on my heaviest flannel pajamas and began doing jumping jacks until my face was flushed and my scalp was soaked with sweat.
Looking in the bathroom mirror before heading down to talk to Mother, I thought I looked pretty convincing, my skin was flushed and sweaty, my eyes had circles under them from lack of sleep, and my voice croaked like a frog.
Heading downstairs, Mother was already feeding Thomas breakfast. I hesitantly stepped into the kitchen and stood there awkwardly for a second, pawing with my pajamas to keep my nerves steady until she noticed my presence and looked up.
“Why aren't you dressed, Julianne?"
"I don't feel well. My throat hurts and my tummy hurts.” My voice graveled out more than I was expecting, I really had hurt my throat.
She strode over to me and placed a cool hand on my sweaty brow.
"You do feel warm. Take an aspirin from the medicine cabinet and go lay back down. I'll check on you later," with that she turned back and walked over to Thomas, who was frozen in place, glaring at me over a forkful of scrambled eggs. The sharp glint of malice in his beady eyes made me shiver before I shuffled out of the kitchen.
I laid in bed, trying my best to look miserable until I eventually heard the faint sound of the television playing in the den as Thomas settled in for his normal daytime routine and the garage door opened as Mother headed to the grocery store. I bounded out of bed and watched the car back out of our driveway and head up the street.
My heart began to pound as I tiptoed down the hall to Mother's bedroom, a place I rarely even caught a glimpse of, let alone entered. I very slowly opened the door, taking great care to not make any noise to alert Thomas downstairs that I was out of bed.
Creeping into the butter yellow room, I could feel my heartbeat pounding in my skull, this was the naughtiest thing I had ever done by far. I stepped onto the rug to help disguise my footsteps and slowly made my way past the brass bed and towards her desk. My hands shook as I opened the top drawer, I pawed through rapidly and found nothing. I checked the next drawer down and again found nothing of interest, just stationary and envelopes.
Finally, the bottom drawer was what I was looking for, a stack of journals from the past decade. I flipped through, trying to find entries relevant to when Daddy died and who Mother slept with afterwards.
I've never fully recovered from what I read.
July 6, 1968
Edgar died today. Car accident. I cannot believe this is real. My light, my life, my anchor... Dr. Benson gave me a sedative at the hospital and I feel so tired. So very, very tired. Why has my Lord forsaken me so?
July 9, 1968
I feel like I am in a very bad dream, I feel numb and disconnected. All the consolation and pity from everyone makes me feel sick. After the memorial, it took everything in me to not break dishes and to scream at everyone to get out of my house. Julianne was moping about crying and I wanted to throw her out, too.
If I hadn't seen my dear Edgar's body in the hospital and held his urn in my own hands, I wouldn't believe he was really gone. I still don't entirely believe it.
I have prayed to God every night asking him to show me why he took my husband from me and I have gotten no answer.
I skimmed over the next few months, as it was more or less similar sentiments repeated night after night. I finally got to an entry that caught my eye.
September 17, 1968
My battle with my faith has been fraught the past few months, but Hallelujah! I feel I can see the Lord again in all his glory and might, for he has given me a way to reconnect to my Edgar!
I was thinking about the night Julianne was born, right in this very home, it was a difficult birth and she struggled to breathe at first. Ingrid, my midwife, made a comment to me that if the baby had failed to wake up on her own, that Ingrid had ways to make sure she would have made it.
I remember asking if it was a medical methodology and she made it clear to me that in certain circumstances, it was a mystical property she used to bring the air of life into a struggling baby's lungs. She gently alluded to being a practicing member of the dark arts. At the time, I felt quite scandalized to have someone like that in my God fearing home. Now I see her as the answer to my prayers! My angel!
On a whim, I called her and asked if she still practiced such techniques. She hesitantly confirmed that she did. I asked, if she could turn breath into the lungs of a child without, could she turn breath into a child that did not exist? Could she magick into existence another child of my beloved Edgar? She told me she had to do some research and she'd be back in touch.
Ingrid just called back after a few hours and said there was a spell she found, but it was dangerous and might have unpleasant results. I said, yes, of course! I trust my Lord and I believe he sent this woman of blessed magick to me for this purpose.
She says we will have to do it soon, in a few days during the new moon. She has a potion to brew, but it is happening! Praise God!
September 23, 1968
The ceremony was last night, and Ingrid believes it was a success, but we will have to wait. It did not take long, only an hour or two. Ingrid lit my bedroom with many beeswax candles and she had me drink a thick and bitter tea that caused me to become quite relaxed and foggy.
From my inner thigh, she cut me and collected my blood in a chalice, with which she mixed quite a lot of Edgar's ashes and other ingredients which I could not glean from my supine position and groggy wits. Ingrid began to chant, calling upon a higher power, as I pleaded with my Lord to let this work. To give me any piece of my Edgar back. She came to the bed and worked the paste between my legs into my womanly chamber, which was very uncomfortable, but manageable with the numbing effects of the tea.
She continued to sit with me and chant, her hand placed over my womb, until she decided at which time it was complete. She left and I fell into a deep sleep. When I woke up this morning, I felt quite uncomfortable, my body ached and when I used the restroom, a yellow fluid like pus poured out of me, but no sign of any ashes or blood, which gives me hope it was absorbed into my womb.
November 3, 1968
Praise be to our Lord, Ingrid just confirmed for me that I am with child, I had been hoping so, I had not gotten my cycle in October, but I wasn't sure if that was because of the discharge like pus that was still coming. She told me that was common with this spell and a side effect that would stop after the baby came.
I feel like I am floating on air, for the first time since Edgar left, I feel-
I suddenly became very aware of the feeling of eyes on the back of my head. I had become too engrossed in what was written before me and I had lost track of my surroundings. Very slowly, I turned around and my heart began pounding again as I saw Thomas standing in the doorway holding his wooden spoon in one hand. How had I not heard him?
He pointed at me with his empty hand and screamed, just a pure guttural screech from somewhere deep inside his disgusting little body. He charged at me from across the room, his horrible feet thumping solidly along the rug. He began beating my legs ruthlessly with the spoon, causing my legs to buckle. I crashed down to my knees in front of him, and he began lashing at my face, pulling my hair with one hand while wailing away at my head with the spoon.
I had dropped the journal I was holding and was desperately trying to get a hand on the spoon or push him away. All I could hear was him screaming. My arms flailed and I reached around on Mother's desk and grabbed onto the first thing I found and sank it into Thomas’ neck.
The end of Mother's gold letter opener protruded under his jaw. He went silent and he looked at me with utter shock. He dropped the spoon and collapsed on the ground, clutching at his neck as his thick black blood oozed out from his wound, letting out a stupendous odor of rot that filled the room. He didn't really say anything or make any noise. He just twitched for a moment and I saw his eyes glaze over.
In shock, I stood over his little body for a moment and I watched as he seemed to mummify in just a few minutes, like an ash person from Pompeii dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt. Even his blood that looked like shiny oil a second ago became like potting soil on Mother's rug. Reaching out to touch his hand, it crumbled away like sand.
Panic ran through me like a rabbit caught in a snare. Not knowing what to do, I ran. I ran down the hall, changed my clothes, put an extra change of clothes in my backpack and the last doll Daddy had ever given me and I ran. Mother would absolutely never forgive me and I was genuinely afraid she would kill me in retaliation for taking her beloved Thomas away from her. Her precious gift from God. My feet flew over the pavement and took me away from that house.
I called my Aunt Judy from a payphone outside the five & dime, and told her Mother had kicked me out and asked if I could stay with her. She had always had a strained relationship with my mother and it didn't take much convincing that she had kicked out her “only” child. Only Mother, Ingrid, and I ever knew about Thomas.
She gave me a home and took care of me. She never beat me or humiliated me. Even with her love, I was far from okay. For years I would close my eyes and hear Thomas scream, then the sudden silence. I'd see him fumbling at his neck and turning to ash. But I would also remember all the ways he would hurt me and how bad he was becoming. I could never talk to anyone about it, especially not the silent relief I felt I refused to admit to myself. Over time, however, Thomas' screams became a whisper and his silence faded into dust in my mind.
I moved on with my life. I went to college and became a photojournalist, getting to travel the world and watch history unfold. By choice, I never married, but was quite blessed with many beautiful friendships for companionship over the decades. I found balance in my life and a sense of happiness, if not peace. I never could quite stomach mashed potatoes again, though, they always taste ashy to me.
Mother never made any attempts to reach out to me or find me, at least that I'm aware of. Ten years ago, I was contacted by a hospital and they said my mother had been admitted earlier after falling and was about to pass, so she must have kept some tabs on me to know my phone number for her emergency contacts. Apparently she had collapsed in the driveway and a neighbor called an ambulance. I got there and her only words to me were, “take care of him," as she placed a locket in my hand. I opened the locket, Jesus was on one side, Thomas on the other. I didn't say anything to her, just held her frail old hand with nicotine stained nails until she passed in the night. My mother was gone and I felt nothing except a vague sense of relief.
When I got to her house, it was like a time capsule. Other than a newer television, it was just like it was when I'd fled so many years ago. The smell of tobacco smoke hung like incense in the air. It felt oppressive, like a tomb.
I wandered the house in a bit of a daze. The one place I didn't want to go was upstairs. I didn't want to see my old room, or Thomas' room, or Mother's. Putting it off, I went to fix myself some supper, realizing I hadn't eaten in almost a day. I took a pause when I opened the fridge and saw a baby bottle on a shelf. Silently praying she had been babysitting for a neighbor, I fixed myself some toast with sardines and sat eating in the den watching TV. It had been almost forty years and it still felt rebellious not eating at the table and watching TV without permission.
My eyes grew heavy and I finally mustered up the gumption to head upstairs to go to bed. The stairs creaked in a familiar way under my feet and I was taken back to the feeling of dread hearing either Mother or Thomas climbing up. My old room was at the top of the stairs, I saw the door was nailed shut and had rambling quotes about Judas copied from the Bible in my mother's handwriting taped to the door. I sighed gently and turned from the door to head down the hallway, deciding Mother's room was probably the best place to sleep.
I passed by Thomas’ toy room and I heard a murmur from the room. I stopped, curiosity got the best of me and I entered. In Thomas' old toy room was a crib with joyful clown sheets. Dread swelled up inside me as I heard more murmurs and saw the sheets move. Approaching slowly, I peaked under the sheet and gasped.
Tucked inside was what looked like a baby gargoyle, gray and papery looking. Pus leaked out of its milky, bulbous eyes. I pulled back the blanket and saw it had no legs and its arms bent back, like wings on a bird. It was wearing just a cloth diaper, overflowing with tarry looking stool that took my breath away with its pungency, it smelled like Thomas’ blood, but somehow worse. My heart broke for this poor creature, Lord only knows how many years it has been in this crib suffering from its unholy existence.
So this is who Mother had wanted me to take care of…
Not knowing what else to do, I gently scooped him up. Like Thomas, he was shockingly heavy for how small his body was. Placing him on the changing table, I cleaned him and rewrapped his bottom in a clean diaper cloth. It was difficult, he fussed tremendously, crying and flopping around as much as his flipper-like arms would allow. I tried wiping off his oozing eyes and he snapped his mouth, which I saw was full of disturbingly square yellow teeth, trying to bite me. I carried him to the kitchen and rocked him while I heated up his bottle and he became furious with me, almost barking like a dog when my hand would get near his face.
He settled a bit as he fed, but he would still sometimes suddenly spit out the bottle and attempt to bite me. I laid him back in his crib, this abomination in a clown sheet, and I walked down the hall to Mother's room letting out a long sigh.
Combing through my mother's journals in the early hours of the morning, it looked like she tried the ceremony again shortly after Thomas died, but she either lacked Ingrid’s help or didn't have enough of my father's ashes left. Something went terribly wrong. She was vaguer than she had been about Thomas’ conception, but I suspect she had used some of Thomas' remains. The resulting birth she named Isaac.
Mother's journals told a sad tale of her and Isaac's suffering. She never mentioned me, but lamented the loss of Thomas and Dad relentlessly. She was hyper protective of Isaac, as that was all she had left. If her world had been small before, it became microscopic after he entered her life, requiring nearly constant care. According to Mother, he was blind and colicky, sometimes going years at a time without sleeping through the night. She had breast fed him for years, but she had to stop after he grew teeth and began biting her intentionally and feeding on her blood.
I spent a lot of time over the next few days pondering what to do. I had to get her estate in order, she had left me the house, in an obvious attempt to get me to continue caretaking for Isaac, but I didn't want it. I had my own cozy home an hour away from here, filled with happy memories and my possessions acquired traveling the world. Mother's home had a heavy energy I couldn't shake. Her and Thomas were both gone, but the memories of the scoldings and beatings hung in every corner, like cobwebs that would never sweep away.
So, I fed Isaac and kept him clean and tried to keep him company, although he seemed to hate me passionately. I took care of him, all the while thinking about what I was going to do. After a week, I felt resolute in what had to be done.
Gathering up all of Mother's journals in a tote, I made my way to Isaac and picked him up and carried everything to the living room.
The ancient logs in the fireplace meant for display ignited instantly. One by one, I fed the journals into the fire, burning away years of my mother's consuming sorrow. Isaac fussed and moaned next to me the entire time. When the last pages shimmered away into lacy ash, I took a throw pillow off the couch and gently cradled Isaac in my other arm. It didn't take long before he stopped struggling and I felt his little body relax after decades of suffering.
I gently wrapped up a bundle in a clown sheet and placed it in the fire. It burned furiously, like the paper in my mother's journals, and was soon gone. Nothing but ashes and embers.
“Don't worry, Mother,” I said purely for my own sake, "I took care of Isaac for you."
And finally, I felt at peace.

I started my online application a month ago. I put in all my personal information, but when I got to the doctors information, I realized I didn't have a recent test result that I needed, so I saved my application for later. I received a letter in the mail from SSA saying I had 6 months to finish my application. Today, I received a copy of the test results in the mail from my doctor along with a denial letter from the SSA.
I never submitted my application! The information I had entered was very incomplete, I had only entered 2 of my 12 doctors and none of my test results. I never even got to the RFC forms and other documentation I had ready to submit.
Do I need to appeal this decision in the next 30 days with all my information?
Or do I need to start a new application?
Or do I need to call the SSA?
I'm really not sure what to do now, and appreciate any advice.

Well, let's wrap up what I've found at the very least interesting in the last couple weeks for pirates and purists alike! This one is very small, not much happening lately!
Sony:
As maybe you've seen, there's no better indication that 'if they don't let you buy it, then pirate it' than Sony delists Ghost of Tsushima PC from various Steam regions, much like Helldivers 2 saw.
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Following Sony's decision last week to delist Helldivers 2 in 170 regions worldwide on Steam, it seems this will be the firm's PC stance moving forward, and it has since done the same for the imminent PC release of Ghost of Tsushima. More regions have been added to the list, taking the total number of territories affected to 180, which is now consistent across both titles.
Previously, Sony has said that Ghost of Tsushima's single player offering would be unaffected by this additional requirement. The game's Steam Page still states that a PSN account is required to play the Legends multiplayer mode, but it was delisted anyway. Due to the open nature of Valve's platform, these changes are pretty visible, and including Sucker Punch's primarily single player open world epic in this blanket ban comes as a legitimate surprise.

SteamDB's post here shows the refund.
This is bullshit. The good news? Sony do not use Denuvo for their PC games, so it will be available as soon as possible to be pirated.
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Rockstar:
By all accounts, it looks like Rockstar's Red Dead Redemption will be releasing on PC - in line with their usual tactics of releasing on a console platform and leaving PC for last, at least it will (probably) be coming to PC.
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Denuvo:
A Denuvo 'outage' made a completely single-player game Persona 5 unplayble - amusingly Denuvo claim that "there was no outage related to its servers at this time"

• The Denuvo server outage rendered the PC version of Persona 5 Royal unplayable on May 2nd
• A partial workaround allowed Steam users to access the game without online functionality, but most didn't use it, with the game's concurrent player count consequently plummeting from 16,600 to just over 600
• The outage lasted for hours, angering fans

The thing we can take away from this is Denuvo sucks, and it's just better to play the damn thing via Yuzu or Ryujinx.
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Related, we now see that it is confirmed that Homeworld 3 will release with Denuvo. The only good news is that Gearbox is one of the few publishers who remove Denuvo. So...just wait for this one.
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Just...interesting and useful:
This video guide via YouTuber 'MonroeWorld' shows you how to SSHFS - mount your Steam Deck as a Windows drive.

"Access your Deck's storage using whatever file manager or tools you want ON AND FROM Windows. In a few minutes, you can copy roms, access compatdata, backup/restore save files and more without ever leaving the comfort of Windows. In about ten minutes, you will have your common Steam Deck locations mounted as drive letters in Windows - accessing them just like any other Windows drive" 

Here is a github link for a GUI for the sshfs manager
Even better u/ReplacementFun53 has a full written guide on how to do so here!!! - 100% what you should be checking out, it's perfect!
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Hydra Launcher:
Hydra is an open-source launcher released in the last few weeks by the Brazilian community. Being able to download and launch games from fitgirl and dodi - it has/is a torrent client, automatically applies metadata for games, emulators and roms; seems to hope to be an all-in-one piracy portal. Personally, I prefer to manually add games from trusted links myself. But I'm paranoid. At least it is interesting.
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Hydra is a free open game launcher focused on being 100% safe, self-sufficient, ad-free, without registration, without subscription and without waiting times.
Hydra combines games from platforms like Steam and Epic Games with trackers from repackers/crackers known and trusted by the pirate gaming community (such as Fitgirl, Dodi and KaOsKrew.
The game downloads are done directly through the platform, as we have our own private torrent protocol.
Hydra currently has the capability to search among a list of more than 13,000 repacks posted in secure places on the internet, but not limited to that. being self-sufficient, Hydra can navigate the trackers not only looking for updates of games that are already registered but also for games that have just been released.

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Lastly the AMA with Dodi:
Well and truly locked in for the 16th. I have a post pinned at the top of PiratedGames, and have just reached out to the mods of Piracy about posting in their sub letting the users know what is happening. I also just posted in his discord server (at his behest). The only thing yet to be determined will be the exact time, for Americans it may be the 15th (your time), but...time-zones fry my brain so I don't know. Really excited about having him come by, the repacker scene is fascinating to me, so I can't wait to hear what he says.

• It will be the typical method: top level questions will be more likely to get an answer.
• Comment a question, he (may) comment a reply.
• The usual sub-reddit rules I have apply more than ever, but the most important is to be kind.
• I have set a custom flair for his user-name on Reddit, but it should be rather obvious who is who.
• I have nothing for this final dot-point.

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Guides?
I'm working on one lil guide since its been awhile since my last. Most probably will post after the aforementioned AMA.
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Lastly?
Thanks to all of you, we're nearing 17k members here and you're all super lovely. This is such a strange sub-reddit because everyone is so damned nice. I just wanted to thank you all for being here, it makes it so nice.
If you wanted to show off your Deck's home screen - then this post a couple days ago is where you can do it!
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^{Thanks, all <3}
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Spend 19.99$ to unlock a Netflix mystery blind box. Didn't get the movie you wanted? That's okay, you can buy another one and try again!! Anyway you got half of the second season of X-Files in SD so you should be happy. Hard of hearing? Unlock subtitles for just 9.99 a month.
Hoping for bread this week? Well you can always purchase a Family Mega Picnic Pack for just 49.99$ which has a 30% chance of containing a white sandwich loaf!!
Need to make a spreadsheet at work? Sorry, your Microsoft 365 subscription doesn't contain Premium features like copy and paste. But if you complete the PowerPoint Battle Pass this season (just 69.99$) you'll get to open a Solid Gold Filing Cabinet and you could unlock unlimited clipboard use AND capital letters for 48 hours!

Spend 19.99$ to unlock a Netflix mystery blind box. Didn't get the movie you wanted? That's okay, you can buy another one and try again!! Anyway you got half of the second season of X-Files in SD so you should be happy. Hard of hearing? Unlock subtitles for just 9.99 a month.
Hoping for bread this week? Well you can always purchase a Family Mega Picnic Pack for just 49.99$ which has a 30% chance of containing a white sandwich loaf!!
Need to make a spreadsheet at work? Sorry, your Microsoft 365 subscription doesn't contain Premium features like copy and paste. But if you complete the PowerPoint Battle Pass this season (just 69.99$) you'll get to open a Solid Gold Filing Cabinet and you could unlock unlimited clipboard use AND capital letters for 48 hours!

Hi everyone, I am curious if I posted on here before or not, or if this is the right thread for it. However, I have struggled to enter the Aerospace/ Defense Industry since graduating from ERAU. I have been going to career fairs, applied to multiple aerospace/defense companies, and got a few interviews. Is it normal for recent graduates to go through with this? Is having a master's degree a plus or a curse? Are there Aerospace/ Defense companies or agencies that accept recent graduates for it? I want to go for Artemis, but I am also open to other space projects for the Defense. I have multiple copies of resumes and cover letters, and I am getting worried it's been a year since I graduated, and I don't know if I will ever be in the Space program (Which is where I want to go for is Space). Am I cursed? Do I need to go back to the University? But I need help with that because University is expensive. I am going through a difficult time. Anyway, please forgive me, everyone.

I started working somewhere as an hourly employee. Not a great pay, but above minimum wage. I was hired on at the starting rate for everyone in that position, and it said so on everything I signed. Unfortunately I did not get a copy of this paperwork. I decided the job was not for me. Management was obviously very toxic and I jumped ship before it got bad. (I had told them that my trainer didn’t really train me well and I wasn’t ready for a shift alone. They told me I would be fine, but then would yell at me in front of customers if I didn’t know something.) After a week of working without a trainer nothing got better so I put in my two weeks, properly with a printed letter. They choose to not use the two weeks, which was fine. I immediately turned in my keys. I got my pay check today, and they only paid me minimum wage. Nobody in the entire place makes minimum wage. I feel it was retaliatory. I know I can’t sue since I don’t have documentation of my hire on wage, but is there anything I can do just to make sure they’re held accountable for future situations? I did everything by the book on my side and kept my nose clean, they were just unhappy they “wasted time” training me.
Any advice?

This morning, about 6 weeks after I started learning Morse code, I made my first CW contact on 20m. I was a complete train wreck, but after about 6 tries, I finally copied the callsign, and I copied the RST. Other than that, I copied about every third or fourth letter. But I have enough for my log-book, so I’m counting it!
Thank you to Fred, KD7ZNC, for being patient and repeating your callsign ‘till I finally got it. Sorry I couldn’t copy more than callsign and RST. That was 100% my problem.
Thank you also to Kurt (AD0WE) of Morse Code Ninja, Bruce (N9WKE) of the DitDit.fm podcast, and Dan (KB6NU) with his No Nonsense guides for helping me get here.
I was surprised how different it is to actually operate CW than it is to copy or send practice sets. The experience was humbling and motivating. I’m excited to improve my skills with some hard work!!
I also made good on my goal of making a CW contact in the month of May 2024. Now I just need to do a SOTA or POTA before the end of the year.
https://www.reddit.com/amateurradio/s/6hHr2ceFWL

I got MP1&2 off Steam a while back and downloaded the fix pack. I followed the directions to the letter but still had problems. Ended up returning it. Are some just duds? Should I try again? I don’t have a PlayStation and my PC doesn’t have a disk drive so I can’t go off the original copy I have anymore.

Hello!
I am a 23 year old female.
I recently went to my women's wellness center to ask about the potential of PCOS because of extreme fatigue and pain in the pelvic region. My doctor addressed the concerns and ordered a bunch of bloodwork, which I got the following morning. I had this appointment on the 25th and got the bloodwork done on the 26th. Last week, I called and asked if they could release a copy of my results. They said no.
Of course, I have never been denied my test results at all... ever... from any doctor. I have always been able to either access them via a portal or directly request them. Unfortunately, the lab is within the center and they also do NOT have a patient portal.
Out of concern, I asked "is something wrong?" And the receptionist said "no, not necessarily." I said, "alright, I just don't know why my results would be withheld unless something was wrong that you thought I needed support for." The receptionist said she cannot read my results and understand them and if she were to give them to me, I would "not be able to understand the results" and I need to wait to see the doctor. From what I read on HIPAA, that is not a valid reason to withhold test results.
That appointment is tomorrow. I have been anxious ever since I got the bloodwork and I have been trying to research what they possibly could have found. They took 4 vials of blood, so obviously there was some testing I probably don't know about.
From what I read online, this is not considered normal or legal, so I am worried. Are they just trying to pull me in because they need the extra money? Or is something seriously wrong? As far as I know, I was only getting tested for things around PCOS or diabetes, neither of which would "likely cause serious harm to myself or others" if I were to read the results before a doctor was present (as HIPAA states).
What if I get charged for the visit and all they say is "everything came back normal?" Do I need to file some sort of complaint? Do I bring this up to the doctor in the appointment? The problem is that I really love my doctor and I don't want to ruin our medical relationship, she really listens to my concerns.. but I get a bad feeling from a medical center withholding my results for any reason. My doctor is more than aware I am an anxious individual and this just seemed unnecessary. I even told them I would still go to the appointment if I received my results. I have never called a doctor about results before an appointment (or after) other than ONE time when I received a letter in the mail asking for a follow-up breast exam after a BIRADS-2 finding, which was not at this location and was mistakenly sent to me. Please help, thank you!

(FOR WIKI VERSION CLICK HERE: https://whig.miraheze.org/wiki/Property_%26_Land)
Views on property by whigs varied, but one strain of thought put forth something like the follow. First, we should respect other people's (some might say creatures') autonomy and equal status as ends onto themselves, and we should try to not lessen or hurt each other. Second, if someone adds to themself without lessening another, they probably have not wronged anyone. Third, because of the first and second points, it follows that we can mix our labor with natural resources and have a property claim to the result, so long as we have not lessened, hurt, or restricted another in the process, by, for example, taking more than a fair share of land and thereby depriving others of a home or means to feed themselves.
Contrary to this thinking, there is a common thread running a thousand years through history. It starts with the Norman Invasion which imposed feudalism on the English people in the 11th century, it then runs to 12th century complaints about Normans hogging up land, it then runs to the Peasants' Revolt of the 14th century, then to the enclosure of the commons and depopulation of some villages to make way for wool production in the 16th century, then to English republicans denouncing this theft of the people's land in the 17th century, then to land reform efforts by whigs in the 18th and 19th centuries (including during the Anti-Rent War of New York), then to the housing crisis of the 21st century.
This is the common thread: the general public has suffered an unnecessary and unjust burden ever since a small class of people declared that the earth belonged to them alone, and imposed themselves on the villages, towns, and cities of England (later on the settlements in the colonies), by supposed right of the king, by supposed right of heaven. This insane system has largely survived until today by disguising itself as part of republicanism, but it is a remnant of feudalism. It is presented as the ideology of private land rights, when it is only the feudal theory of private land rights, and is in opposition to the classical republican theory which holds that land is a natural thing like the air, not the creation of humans, and that we all have an equal right to the land, to shelter ourselves in homes, to feed ourselves with produce, and to come together in a republican manner to decide the particulars of this equitable arrangement, like by imposing land value tax on those granted the privilege of holding more or better land than average.
QUOTES

"The same law of nature, that does by this means give us property, does also bound that property too. . . As much as any one can make use of to any advantage of life before it spoils, so much he may by his labour fix a property in: whatever is beyond this, is more than his share, and belongs to others. . . But the chief matter of property being now not the fruits of the earth, and the beasts that subsist on it, but the earth itself; as that which takes in and carries with it all the rest; I think it is plain, that property in that too is acquired as the former. As much land as a man tills, plants, improves, cultivates, and can use the product of, so much is his property. . . Nor was this appropriation of any parcel of land, by improving it, any prejudice to any other man, since there was still enough, and as good left; and more than the yet unprovided could use. So that, in effect, there was never the less left for others because of his enclosure for himself: for he that leaves as much as another can make use of, does as good as take nothing at all. No body could think himself injured by the drinking of another man, though he took a good draught, who had a whole river of the same water left him to quench his thirst: and the case of land and water, where there is enough of both, is perfectly the same."

—John Locke (Two Treatises of Government, book 2 chapter 5)

". . . a right to property is founded in our natural wants, in the means with which we are endowed to satisfy these wants, and the right to what we acquire by those means without violating the similar rights of other sensible beings; that no one has a right to obstruct another, exercising his faculties innocently for the relief of sensibilities made a part of his nature. . ."

—Thomas Jefferson (a letter to Pierre Samuel Du Pont de Nemours, 1816)

"Another means of silently lessening the inequality of property is to exempt all from taxation below a certain point, & to tax the higher portions of property in geometrical progression as they rise. Whenever there is in any country, uncultivated lands and unemployed poor, it is clear that the laws of property have been so far extended as to violate natural right. The earth is given as a common stock for man to labour & live on. If, for the encouragement of industry we allow it to be appropriated, we must take care that other employment be furnished to those excluded from the appropriation. If we do not the fundamental right to labour the earth returns to the unemployed. It is too soon yet in our country to say that every man who can not find employment but who can find uncultivated land, shall be at liberty to cultivate it, paying a moderate rent. But it is not too soon to provide by every possible means that as few as possible shall be without a little portion of land. The small landholders are the most precious part of a state."

—Thomas Jefferson (a letter to James Madison, 1785)

"It has been pretended by some (and in England especially) that inventors have a natural and exclusive right to their inventions; & not merely for their own lives, but inheritable to their heirs. but while it is a moot question whether the origin of any kind of property is derived from nature at all, it would be singular to admit a natural, and even an hereditary right to inventions. it is agreed by those who have seriously considered the subject, that no individual has, of natural right, a separate property in an acre of land, for instance. by an universal law indeed, whatever, whether fixed or moveable, belongs to all men equally and in common, is the property, for the moment, of him who occupies it; but when he relinquishes the occupation the property goes with it. stable ownership is the gift of social law, and is given late in the progress of society. it would be curious then if an idea, the fugitive fermentation of an individual brain, could, of natural right, be claimed in exclusive and stable property. if nature has made any one thing less susceptible, than all others, of exclusive property, it is the action of the thinking power called an Idea; which an individual may exclusively possess as long as he keeps it to himself; but the moment it is divulged, it forces itself into the possession of every one, and the reciever cannot dispossess himself of it. it’s peculiar character too is that no one possesses the less, because every other possesses the whole of it. he who recieves an idea from me, recieves instruction himself, without lessening mine; as he who lights his taper at mine, recieves light without darkening me. that ideas should freely spread from one to another over the globe, for the moral and mutual instruction of man, and improvement of his condition, seems to have been peculiarly and benvolently designed by nature, when she made them, like fire, expansible over all space, without lessening their density in any point; and like the air in which we breathe, move, and have our physical being, incapable of confinement, or exclusive appropriation. inventions then cannot in nature be a subject of property. society may give an exclusive right to the profits arising from them as an encouragement to men to pursue ideas which may produce utility. but this may, or may not be done, according to the will and convenience of the society, without claim or complaint from any body."

—Thomas Jefferson (a letter to Isaac McPherson, 1813)

"Establish the principle also in the new law to be passed for protecting copyrights & new inventions, by securing the exclusive right for 19 [years]."

—Thomas Jefferson (a letter to James Madison, 1789)

"Consequently there is as yet no such thing as a street except adjacent to the lots actually sold or divided; the erection of a house in any part of the ground cannot as yet be a nuisance in law. Mr. Carrol is tenant in common of the soil, with the public, and the erection of a house by a tenant in common on the common property is no nuisance. Mr. Carrol has acted imprudently, intemperately, foolishly; but he has not acted illegally. There must be an establishment of the streets before his house can become a nuisance in the eye of the law. Therefore till that establishment neither Majr. Lenfant, nor the Commissioners would have had a right to demolish his house without his consent."

—Thomas Jefferson (Enclosure: Observations on L'Enfant's Letter, 1791)

"It is a position not to be controverted that the earth, in its natural, uncultivated state was, and ever would have continued to be, the common property of the human race. In that state every man would have been born to property. He would have been a joint life proprietor with rest in the property of the soil, and in all its natural productions, vegetable and animal. But the earth in its natural state, as before said, is capable of supporting but a small number of inhabitants compared with what it is capable of doing in a cultivated state. And as it is impossible to separate the improvement made by cultivation from the earth itself, upon which that improvement is made, the idea of landed property arose from that parable connection; but it is nevertheless true, that it is the value of the improvement, only, and not the earth itself, that is individual property. Every proprietor, therefore, of cultivated lands, owes to the community a ground-rent (for I know of no better term to express the idea) for the land which he holds. . . There could be no such thing as landed property originally. Man did not make the earth, and, though he had a natural right to occupy it, he had no right to locate as his property in perpetuity any part of it; neither did the Creator of the earth open a land-office, from whence the first title-deeds should issue. Whence then, arose the idea of landed property? I answer as before, that when cultivation began the idea of landed property began with it, from the impossibility of separating the improvement made by cultivation from the earth itself, upon which that improvement was made. The value of the improvement so far exceeded the value of the natural earth, at that time, as to absorb it; till, in the end, the common right of all became confounded into the cultivated right of the individual. But there are, nevertheless, distinct species of rights, and will continue to be, so long as the earth endures. It is only by tracing things to their origin that we can gain rightful ideas of them, and it is by gaining such ideas that we, discover the boundary that divides right from wrong, and teaches every man to know his own. . . While, therefore, I advocate the right, and interest myself in the hard case of all those who have been thrown out of their natural inheritance by the introduction of the system of landed property, I equally defend the right of the possessor to the part which is his. Cultivation is at least one of the greatest natural improvements ever made by human invention. It has given to created earth a tenfold value. But the landed monopoly that began with it has produced the greatest evil. It has dispossessed more than half the inhabitants of every nation of their natural inheritance, without providing for them, as ought to have been done, an indemnification for that loss, and has thereby created a species of poverty and wretchedness that did not exist before. . . It is not charity but a right, not bounty but justice, that I am pleading for. The present state of civilization is as odious as it is unjust. It is absolutely the opposite of what it should be, and it is necessary that a revolution should be made in it. . . It is the practice of what has unjustly obtained the name of civilization. . . to make some provision for persons becoming poor and wretched only at the time they become so. Would it not, even as a matter of economy, be far better to adopt means to prevent their becoming poor?. . ."

—Thomas Paine (Agrarian Justice)

"I care not how affluent some may be, provided that none be miserable in consequence of it."

—Thomas Paine (Agrarian Justice)

"Separate an individual from society, and give him an island or a continent to possess, and he cannot acquire personal property. He cannot be rich. So inseparably are the means connected with the end, in all cases, that where the former do not exist the latter cannot be obtained. All accumulation, therefore, of personal property, beyond what a man's own hands produce, is derived to him by living in society; and he owes on every principle of justice, of gratitude, and of civilization, a part of that accumulation back again to society from whence the whole came."

—Thomas Paine (Agrarian Justice)

"The law which prohibited people's having two inheritances was extremely well adapted for a democracy. It derived its origin from the equal distribution of lands and portions made to each citizen. The law would not permit a single man to possess more than a single portion. . . It is not sufficient in a well regulated democracy that the divisions of land be equal; they ought also to be small, as was customary among the Romans. 'God forbid, said Curius to his soldiers, that a citizen should look upon that as a small piece of land, which is sufficient to support a man.'"

—Charles Montesquieu (The Spirit of Laws, book 5)

"The first man who, having enclosed a piece of ground, bethought himself of saying This is mine, and found people simple enough to believe him, was the real founder of civil society. From how many crimes, wars, and murders, from how many horrors and misfortunes might not any one have saved mankind, by pulling up the stakes, or filling up the ditch, and crying to his fellows: Beware of listening to this impostor; you are undone if you once forget that the fruits of the earth belong to us all, and the earth itself to nobody."

—Jean-Jacques Rousseau (Discourse on the Origin and Basis of Inequality Among Men, part 2)

"In general, to establish the right of the first occupier over a plot of ground, the following conditions are necessary: first, the land must not yet be inhabited; secondly, a man must occupy only the amount he needs for his subsistence; and, in the third place, possession must be taken, not by an empty ceremony, but by labour and cultivation, the only sign of proprietorship that should be respected by others, in default of a legal title."

—Jean-Jacques Rousseau (The Social Contract, book 1 section 9)

"In granting the right of first occupancy to necessity and labour, are we not really stretching it as far as it can go? Is it possible to leave such a right unlimited? Is it to be enough to set foot on a plot of common ground, in order to be able to call yourself at once the master of it? Is it to be enough that a man has the strength to expel others for a moment, in order to establish his right to prevent them from ever returning? How can a man or a people seize an immense territory and keep it from the rest of the world except by a punishable usurpation, since all others are being robbed, by such an act, of the place of habitation and the means of subsistence which nature gave them in common? When Nunez Balboa, standing on the sea-shore, took possession of the South Seas and the whole of South America in the name of the crown of Castile, was that enough to dispossess all their actual inhabitants, and to shut out from them all the princes of the world? On such a showing, these ceremonies are idly multiplied, and the Catholic King need only take possession all at once, from his apartment, of the whole universe, merely making a subsequent reservation about what was already in the possession of other princes."

—Jean-Jacques Rousseau (The Social Contract, book 1 section 9)

"The like may be said in relation to my house, land, or estate; I may do what I please with them, if I bring no damage upon others. But I must not set fire to my house, by which my neighbour’s house may be burnt. I may not erect forts upon my own lands, or deliver them to a foreign enemy, who may by that means infest my country. I may not cut the banks of the sea, or those of a river, lest my neighbour’s ground be overflown, because the society into which I am incorporated, would by such means receive prejudice. My land is not simply my own, but upon condition that I shall not thereby bring damage upon the publick, by which I am protected in the peaceable enjoyment and innocent use of what I possess."

—Algernon Sidney (Discourses Concerning Government, chapter 3 section 41)

"The like continued amongst Jacob’s sons; no jurisdiction was given to one above the rest: an equal division of land was made amongst them: Their judges and magistrates were of several tribes and families, without any other preference of one before another, than what did arise from the advantages God had given to any particular person. This I take to be a proof of the utmost extent and certainty, that the equality amongst mankind was then perfect. . ."

—Algernon Sidney (Discourses Concerning Government, chapter 1 section 12)

"Men can hardly at once foresee all that may happen in many ages, and the changes that accompany them ought to be provided for. Rome in its foundation was subject to these defects, and the inconveniences arising from them were by degrees discover’d and remedi’d. They did not think of regulating usury, till they saw the mischiefs proceeding from the cruelty of usurers; or setting limits to the proportion of land that one man might enjoy, till the avarice of a few had so far succeeded, that their riches were grown formidable, and many by the poverty to which they were reduced became useless to the city."

—Algernon Sidney (Discourses Concerning Government, chapter 2 section 13)

"That the too long continued shame of this Nation, viz. permission of any to suffer such poverty as to beg their bread, may be forthwith effectually remedied; and to that purpose, that the poor be enabled to chuse their Trustees to discover all Stocks, Houses, Lands, &c. which of right belong to them and their use, that they may speedily receive the benefit thereof, and that some good improvement may be made of waste Grounds for their use. . ."

—John Lilburne (An Impeachment of High Treason against Oliver Cromwel)

"As soon as the land of any country has all become private property, the landlords, like all other men, love to reap where they never sowed, and demand a rent even for its natural produce."

—Adam Smith (The Wealth of Nations, book 1 chapter 6)

"The thirteenth ORDER. . . every man who is at present possest, or shall hereafter be possest of an estate in land exceeding the revenue of two thousand pounds a year, and having more than one son, shall leave his lands either equally divided among them, in case the lands amount to above 2000 l. a year to each; or so near equally in case they com under, that the greater part or portion of the same remaining to the eldest, excede not the value of two thousand pounds revenue. And no man, not in present possession of lands above the value of two thousand pounds by the year, shall receive, enjoy (except by lawful inheritance) acquire, or purchase to himself lands within the said territorys, amounting, with those already in his possession, above the said revenue."

—James Harrington (Oceana)

"All Property indeed, except the Savage’s temporary Cabin, his Bow, his Matchcoat, and other little Acquisitions absolutely necessary for his Subsistence, seems to me to be the Creature of public Convention. Hence the Public has the Right of Regulating Descents & all other Conveyances of Property, and even of limiting the Quantity & the Uses of it. All the Property that is necessary to a Man for the Conservation of the Individual & the Propagation of the Species, is his natural Right which none can justly deprive him of: But all Property superfluous to such purposes is the Property of the Publick, who by their Laws have created it, and who may therefore by other Laws dispose of it, whenever the Welfare of the Publick shall demand such Disposition. He that does not like civil Society on these Terms, let him retire & live among Savages.— He can have no right to the Benefits of Society who will not pay his Club towards the Support of it."

—Benjamin Franklin (a letter to Robert Morris, 1783)

"I think it could never be, that the best of the Proprietaries located uncultivated Lands should be taxed no higher than the worst of those of the People; that being so manifestly unjust. Nor that a Medium Rate should be fix’d on for all that kind of Lands, as this would be too high for some, and too low for others. Nor that the common Rate should be taken from the worst kind; for this would lay the Burthen chiefly on that kind, which is unjust and oppressive to the poorer People."

—Benjamin Franklin (a letter to Richard Jackson, 1764)

"It gives me Pain my Lord! to observe that the prevailing monopoly of Lands in this Colony has become a Grievance to the lower Class of People in it; and confines the Bounty of our gracious Sovereign to mercenary Land-Jobbers, and Gentlemen who have already shared very largely in the royal Munificence."

—John Jay (a letter to the Earl of Dartmouth, 1773)

"That the right of the Poor, in their Commons, may be preserved, and freed from the Usurpations, Enclosures, and Encroachments of all manner of Projectors, Undertakers, &c. and that all servile Tenures of Lands, as by Copy-holds, or the like, be abolished and holden for naught."

—Leveller tract (The Fundamental Lawes and Liberties of England claimed, asserted, and agreed unto, by severall Peaceable Persons of the City of London, Westminster, Southwark, Hamblets, and Places adjacent; commonly called Levellers.)

"The right to property being inviolable and sacred, no one ought to be deprived of it, except in cases of evident public necessity, legally ascertained, and on condition of a previous just indemnity."

—National Assembly of France (Declaration of the Rights of Man and of Citizens)

hello po, i passed the ustet so this is my next step. my last name starts with the letter around a-e so i have to pass my requirements on-site by may 6. however since may 16 pa 'yung deadline ng reservation fee, now lang me nakapagbayad and i wasn't able to go sa ust nung may 6.
does the note "applicants who paid the reservation fee after may 10, 2024, may submit the hard copy of the documents on may 14 and 16, 2024 only" means that i can still pass my requirements sa given date kahit naskip na 'yung surname ko? thank you 😊
(this is for college of engineering btw)

So far sales had been steady but not spectacular. Jenna hoped they would pick up after the school let out. She chatted and sampled with customers, pitching her spiel about supporting their troop's efforts to earn badges. It was fun work even if tiring on her feet.
Gazing up at the cloudless sky, Jenna wondered idly if it might rain later. The forecast hadn't mentioned anything, but you never knew. A tiny speck in the distance caught her eye. She squinted, trying to make it out. It grew rapidly in size—and shape. Whatever it was, it wasn't a bird.
"Hey Jamie, do you see that?" Jenna nudged her friend, pointing. Now the other girls had turned to look as well. What had been a speck was now clearly some large, cylindrical object descending from the heavens. It shone silvery-grey in the sunlight.
"Is that...a rocket ship?" breathed Tammy.
As it neared the treetops, its design became evident. Definitely not any spacecraft Jenna had seen on the news or in movies. It was smoothly rounded on all ends, with no visible engines or fins. Eerily silent, it drifted toward an open field and settled softly on four tapering legs.
The girls stared open-mouthed, cookies momentarily forgotten. A hatch appeared in the side of the ship. Light spilled out, glowing an ethereal blue. Then towering figures emerged, moving with an inhuman grace.
Jenna caught her breath. Peering closer, she could just make out bipedal forms wrapped in loose, silvery garments. Their limbs seemed overly long and jointed in odd places. As they turned in her direction, two dark eyes set wide in hairless faces met hers. No nose or mouth was visible beneath.
"Aliens," Jamie whispered. "Actual aliens. I don't believe it."
Tammy squeaked and clung to Jenna's arm. But Jenna's mind was racing. This was an incredible opportunity, too good to pass up. She flashed the others a mischievous smile. "Come on, girls. Let's go make some sales!"
The troop fell into step behind her as she marched into the field. The creatures had paused, gazing around at their surroundings with a palpable air of curiosity and caution. As Jenna neared, they angled their expressive eyes down at the little band approaching. Up close, their skin shimmered in shades of aqua and moss green, veined with silvery networks.
The tallest one shifted its gaze between the girls, as if taking their measure. It spoke, but the sound was like rushing wind and dripping water blended into an eerie melody. Its friends chattered in response, their voices blending into a dissonant choir.
Undeterred, Jenna beamed and proudly presented her box of Thin Mints. "Cookies!" she enunciated clearly. "Would you like to buy some cookies?" To her astonishment, a glowing rectangle like a computer screen lit up on the tall one's torso. Words scrolled across it in crisp English letters.
WE DO NOT UNDERSTAND. WHAT ARE COOKIES? IT SEEMS YOU ARE SELLING SOMETHING, BUT WE HAVE NO CURRENCY OF YOUR WORLD.
Jamie leaned in to whisper, eyes shining, "They can understand us! This is so cool."
Jenna gathered her thoughts, focusing on her sales pitch despite everything unusual about the situation. "Cookies are a sweet treat made of chocolate and biscuits. They're very popular here on Earth. And all the money we earn from selling them goes towards fun trips and learning new skills as Girl Scouts. Please, won't you buy a box to help support our troop? I'm sure you'll love them!"
The aliens conferred amongst themselves, still in untranslatablespeech. Finally, the glowing display lit up again. I APOLOGIZE, BUT WE HAVE NO MEANS OF TRANSACTION. WE ARE EXPLORERS HERE IN PEACE TO STUDY YOUR WORLD. PERHAPS ANOTHER TIME WE CAN BARTER. FOR NOW, WE ONLY WISH TO LEARN.
Jenna tried to hide her disappointment. This wasn't how she'd envisioned the interaction going at all. But she had come this far, so she wasn't giving up yet. An idea bloomed in her mind. "Well, since you want to learn about us, how about a trade? We'll give you a box of cookies to try in exchange for letting our whole troop come aboard your ship for a little while. What do you say?"
The girls held their breath. This was assuredly against every safety rule. But an opportunity for an out of this world experience was too enticing to pass up. The aliens conversed quietly before responding.
VERY WELL, HUMAN CHILDREN. FOR THE SAKE OF CULTURAL EXCHANGE, WE AGREE TO YOUR TRADE. COME, WE SHALL GIVE YOU A TOUR OF OUR VESSEL.
Screeches of delight arose from the Scout troop. Jenna tried to shush them, not wanting the aliens to change their minds. But she couldn't contain her own grin of excitement and triumph. This was going to be one very memorable cookie sale!
Jenna stepped forward nervously, holding out the box of Thin Mints for the aliens to see. She did her best salesperson smile while gesturing to the colorful packaging. "Cookies!" she said again loudly and clearly.
The tallest alien leaned down, its large dark eyes fixing on the box in Jenna's hands. A long, nimble finger reached out to poke gently at the box, then drew back just as swiftly. Its companions murmured again in their strange tongue.
Frustrated not being able to communicate properly, Jenna popped open the lid so the sweet scent could waft up. She took one mint and mimed taking a bite, sighing happily and rubbing her belly. The aliens copied the sign for stomach, looking quizzical.
An idea sparked in Jenna's mind. Rummaging in her bag, she pulled out her phone and found the notepad app. Typing awkwardly with her thumbs, she showed them the words "Will you trade for this?" Arrows pointed to the cookies and to their ship.
A spark of understanding lit in the aliens' eyes as they studied the makeshift message. Their glowing display lit up in response. I APOLOGIZE, SMALL HUMAN, BUT WE HAVE NOTHING OF VALUE FROM OUR WORLD TO OFFER IN RETURN. OUR MISSION HERE IS ONE OF DISCOVERY ONLY.
"Please?" Jenna typed, giving her best pleading look. The girls clustered behind her, joining in the silent begging. But the aliens only seemed perplexed by this behavior.
Suddenly Tammy piped up, "What if we clean your ship for you? We'll dust and sweep and take out the garbage." The others stared at her, surprised by this inventive offer.
The display considered this. THAT IS A GENEROUS OFFER. HOWEVER, OUR CRAFT UTILIZES TECHNOLOGY FAR BEYOND YOUR WORLD'S CURRENT STAGE. I DOUBT YOU COULD PERFORM MAINTENANCE TO OUR STANDARDS.
At this rejection, the girls deflated with twin sounds of disappointment. But Jenna wasn't giving up yet. She furiously texted another message. "How about you give us a little tour then? We promise to be very careful and not touch anything."
The aliens conferred quietly amongst themselves for several moments. The girls held their breath, hoping their persistence was finally paying off. Then the glowing display lit up once more.
VERY WELL, SMALL HUMANS. FOR THE SAKE OF CULTURAL EXCHANGE, WE WILL ALLOW YOU A BRIEF LOOK INSIDE OUR VESSEL. BUT YOU MUST FOLLOW OUR INSTRUCTIONS CAREFULLY. OUR TECHNOLOGY COULD PROVE DANGEROUS IF MISUSED.
The Girl Scouts whooped and cheered, doing a little victory dance. Jenna grinned, popping another Thin Mint in her mouth triumphantly. "Deal! Thank you so much for this."
The tallest alien gestured gracefully with one long arm. "THIS WAY, YOUNG ONES. WE SHALL BEGIN OUR TOUR."
Clutching their cookie boxes eagerly, the girls fell into line behind the extraterrestrials. They followed them up a floating gangway into the belly of the ship.
Inside, the walls glowed with an otherworldly luminescence. Strange symbols and interfaces winked all around, totally indecipherable. The floors felt bouncy underfoot, as if made of gelatin.
"Wow," breathed Jamie. "It's so beautiful in here."
The aliens guided them through sleek corridors and compartments full of glowing tech. They pointed out living quarters, a laboratory, hydroponic gardens, and an observation deck showing the curve of the Earth.
In the cockpit, countless viewscreens displayed alien constellations and scans of their small town below. Control panels rippled like liquid mercury beneath touch.
"This is where we navigated our journey to your solar system," explained their guides. "Truly a marvel, the distances stars can be bridged.
Tammy peered out the main viewing portal. "Your ship is so fast! How did you get here from wherever you came from?"
As the explorers launched into an explanation involving hyperdrives and folded spacetime, Jenna began to lose the thread. Space travel clearly worked very differently where these beings hailed from.
Their tour lasted nearly an hour, the aliens answering every barrage of questions patiently. All too soon, it was over, and they found themselves back outside in the late afternoon sun
"Thank you so much for the amazing tour!" Jenna gushed, hugging her now-empty cookie box. "Learning about aliens is a once-in-a-lifetime experience.
The tallest being dipped its head graciously. "IT WAS OUR PLEASURE, SMALL HUMANS. YOU HAVE PROVIDED US AN INSIGHT INTO YOUR YOUNG ONES AS WELL."
Its fellows chattered in their musical language, some holding half-eaten cookies and gesturing appreciatively. Jenna beamed, glad they seemed to have enjoyed the treats.
"Will you come back to see us again?" asked Jamie hopefully.
"PERHAPS, IF OUR EXPLORATIONS BRING US BACK THIS WAY," was the reply. "BUT FOR NOW, WE MUST RESUME OUR JOURNEY AMONG THE STARS. FAREWELL, AND THANK YOU ONCE MORE FOR YOUR HOSPITALITY.
The aliens turned as one and glided back up the gangway. The rockets flared, rising gracefully into the sky until they vanished into the dusk.
The girls stood watching long after, buzzing with excited chatter about this unforgettable day. In the end, it had been the best cookie sale ever. Maybe even worth breaking a few rules...

So far sales had been steady but not spectacular. Jenna hoped they would pick up after the school let out. She chatted and sampled with customers, pitching her spiel about supporting their troop's efforts to earn badges. It was fun work even if tiring on her feet.
Gazing up at the cloudless sky, Jenna wondered idly if it might rain later. The forecast hadn't mentioned anything, but you never knew. A tiny speck in the distance caught her eye. She squinted, trying to make it out. It grew rapidly in size—and shape. Whatever it was, it wasn't a bird.
"Hey Jamie, do you see that?" Jenna nudged her friend, pointing. Now the other girls had turned to look as well. What had been a speck was now clearly some large, cylindrical object descending from the heavens. It shone silvery-grey in the sunlight.
"Is that...a rocket ship?" breathed Tammy.
As it neared the treetops, its design became evident. Definitely not any spacecraft Jenna had seen on the news or in movies. It was smoothly rounded on all ends, with no visible engines or fins. Eerily silent, it drifted toward an open field and settled softly on four tapering legs.
The girls stared open-mouthed, cookies momentarily forgotten. A hatch appeared in the side of the ship. Light spilled out, glowing an ethereal blue. Then towering figures emerged, moving with an inhuman grace.
Jenna caught her breath. Peering closer, she could just make out bipedal forms wrapped in loose, silvery garments. Their limbs seemed overly long and jointed in odd places. As they turned in her direction, two dark eyes set wide in hairless faces met hers. No nose or mouth was visible beneath.
"Aliens," Jamie whispered. "Actual aliens. I don't believe it."
Tammy squeaked and clung to Jenna's arm. But Jenna's mind was racing. This was an incredible opportunity, too good to pass up. She flashed the others a mischievous smile. "Come on, girls. Let's go make some sales!"
The troop fell into step behind her as she marched into the field. The creatures had paused, gazing around at their surroundings with a palpable air of curiosity and caution. As Jenna neared, they angled their expressive eyes down at the little band approaching. Up close, their skin shimmered in shades of aqua and moss green, veined with silvery networks.
The tallest one shifted its gaze between the girls, as if taking their measure. It spoke, but the sound was like rushing wind and dripping water blended into an eerie melody. Its friends chattered in response, their voices blending into a dissonant choir.
Undeterred, Jenna beamed and proudly presented her box of Thin Mints. "Cookies!" she enunciated clearly. "Would you like to buy some cookies?" To her astonishment, a glowing rectangle like a computer screen lit up on the tall one's torso. Words scrolled across it in crisp English letters.
WE DO NOT UNDERSTAND. WHAT ARE COOKIES? IT SEEMS YOU ARE SELLING SOMETHING, BUT WE HAVE NO CURRENCY OF YOUR WORLD.
Jamie leaned in to whisper, eyes shining, "They can understand us! This is so cool."
Jenna gathered her thoughts, focusing on her sales pitch despite everything unusual about the situation. "Cookies are a sweet treat made of chocolate and biscuits. They're very popular here on Earth. And all the money we earn from selling them goes towards fun trips and learning new skills as Girl Scouts. Please, won't you buy a box to help support our troop? I'm sure you'll love them!"
The aliens conferred amongst themselves, still in untranslatablespeech. Finally, the glowing display lit up again. I APOLOGIZE, BUT WE HAVE NO MEANS OF TRANSACTION. WE ARE EXPLORERS HERE IN PEACE TO STUDY YOUR WORLD. PERHAPS ANOTHER TIME WE CAN BARTER. FOR NOW, WE ONLY WISH TO LEARN.
Jenna tried to hide her disappointment. This wasn't how she'd envisioned the interaction going at all. But she had come this far, so she wasn't giving up yet. An idea bloomed in her mind. "Well, since you want to learn about us, how about a trade? We'll give you a box of cookies to try in exchange for letting our whole troop come aboard your ship for a little while. What do you say?"
The girls held their breath. This was assuredly against every safety rule. But an opportunity for an out of this world experience was too enticing to pass up. The aliens conversed quietly before responding.
VERY WELL, HUMAN CHILDREN. FOR THE SAKE OF CULTURAL EXCHANGE, WE AGREE TO YOUR TRADE. COME, WE SHALL GIVE YOU A TOUR OF OUR VESSEL.
Screeches of delight arose from the Scout troop. Jenna tried to shush them, not wanting the aliens to change their minds. But she couldn't contain her own grin of excitement and triumph. This was going to be one very memorable cookie sale!
Jenna stepped forward nervously, holding out the box of Thin Mints for the aliens to see. She did her best salesperson smile while gesturing to the colorful packaging. "Cookies!" she said again loudly and clearly.
The tallest alien leaned down, its large dark eyes fixing on the box in Jenna's hands. A long, nimble finger reached out to poke gently at the box, then drew back just as swiftly. Its companions murmured again in their strange tongue.
Frustrated not being able to communicate properly, Jenna popped open the lid so the sweet scent could waft up. She took one mint and mimed taking a bite, sighing happily and rubbing her belly. The aliens copied the sign for stomach, looking quizzical.
An idea sparked in Jenna's mind. Rummaging in her bag, she pulled out her phone and found the notepad app. Typing awkwardly with her thumbs, she showed them the words "Will you trade for this?" Arrows pointed to the cookies and to their ship.
A spark of understanding lit in the aliens' eyes as they studied the makeshift message. Their glowing display lit up in response. I APOLOGIZE, SMALL HUMAN, BUT WE HAVE NOTHING OF VALUE FROM OUR WORLD TO OFFER IN RETURN. OUR MISSION HERE IS ONE OF DISCOVERY ONLY.
"Please?" Jenna typed, giving her best pleading look. The girls clustered behind her, joining in the silent begging. But the aliens only seemed perplexed by this behavior.
Suddenly Tammy piped up, "What if we clean your ship for you? We'll dust and sweep and take out the garbage." The others stared at her, surprised by this inventive offer.
The display considered this. THAT IS A GENEROUS OFFER. HOWEVER, OUR CRAFT UTILIZES TECHNOLOGY FAR BEYOND YOUR WORLD'S CURRENT STAGE. I DOUBT YOU COULD PERFORM MAINTENANCE TO OUR STANDARDS.
At this rejection, the girls deflated with twin sounds of disappointment. But Jenna wasn't giving up yet. She furiously texted another message. "How about you give us a little tour then? We promise to be very careful and not touch anything."
The aliens conferred quietly amongst themselves for several moments. The girls held their breath, hoping their persistence was finally paying off. Then the glowing display lit up once more.
VERY WELL, SMALL HUMANS. FOR THE SAKE OF CULTURAL EXCHANGE, WE WILL ALLOW YOU A BRIEF LOOK INSIDE OUR VESSEL. BUT YOU MUST FOLLOW OUR INSTRUCTIONS CAREFULLY. OUR TECHNOLOGY COULD PROVE DANGEROUS IF MISUSED.
The Girl Scouts whooped and cheered, doing a little victory dance. Jenna grinned, popping another Thin Mint in her mouth triumphantly. "Deal! Thank you so much for this."
The tallest alien gestured gracefully with one long arm. "THIS WAY, YOUNG ONES. WE SHALL BEGIN OUR TOUR."
Clutching their cookie boxes eagerly, the girls fell into line behind the extraterrestrials. They followed them up a floating gangway into the belly of the ship.
Inside, the walls glowed with an otherworldly luminescence. Strange symbols and interfaces winked all around, totally indecipherable. The floors felt bouncy underfoot, as if made of gelatin.
"Wow," breathed Jamie. "It's so beautiful in here."
The aliens guided them through sleek corridors and compartments full of glowing tech. They pointed out living quarters, a laboratory, hydroponic gardens, and an observation deck showing the curve of the Earth.
In the cockpit, countless viewscreens displayed alien constellations and scans of their small town below. Control panels rippled like liquid mercury beneath touch.
"This is where we navigated our journey to your solar system," explained their guides. "Truly a marvel, the distances stars can be bridged.
Tammy peered out the main viewing portal. "Your ship is so fast! How did you get here from wherever you came from?"
As the explorers launched into an explanation involving hyperdrives and folded spacetime, Jenna began to lose the thread. Space travel clearly worked very differently where these beings hailed from.
Their tour lasted nearly an hour, the aliens answering every barrage of questions patiently. All too soon, it was over, and they found themselves back outside in the late afternoon sun
"Thank you so much for the amazing tour!" Jenna gushed, hugging her now-empty cookie box. "Learning about aliens is a once-in-a-lifetime experience.
The tallest being dipped its head graciously. "IT WAS OUR PLEASURE, SMALL HUMANS. YOU HAVE PROVIDED US AN INSIGHT INTO YOUR YOUNG ONES AS WELL."
Its fellows chattered in their musical language, some holding half-eaten cookies and gesturing appreciatively. Jenna beamed, glad they seemed to have enjoyed the treats.
"Will you come back to see us again?" asked Jamie hopefully.
"PERHAPS, IF OUR EXPLORATIONS BRING US BACK THIS WAY," was the reply. "BUT FOR NOW, WE MUST RESUME OUR JOURNEY AMONG THE STARS. FAREWELL, AND THANK YOU ONCE MORE FOR YOUR HOSPITALITY.
The aliens turned as one and glided back up the gangway. The rockets flared, rising gracefully into the sky until they vanished into the dusk.
The girls stood watching long after, buzzing with excited chatter about this unforgettable day. In the end, it had been the best cookie sale ever. Maybe even worth breaking a few rules...

PRODUCER: Do you have the suicide note?
HEIDI CLIFFORD (As “Anonymous Classmate”): (Reading purported “suicide note” aloud): This is a copy of the suicide note.
“I attended a course called Executive Success Programs, aka Nexium (sic), based out of Anchorage, Alaska and Albany, New York. I was brainwashed and my emotional center of the brain was killed and turned off. I still have feeling in my external skin, but my internal organs are rotting. I’m sorry, life. I didn’t know I was already dead.”
“No need to search my body.”
Was this potential suicide letter in Kris’s car coerced?
Was it her willingly writing it?
You don’t know.
As we have discussed in previous posts, nothing about the Kristin Snyder missing person case makes any sense whatsoever, and the purported “suicide note” found in her vehicle is certainly no exception.
Before we start analyzing the “suicide note,” here are a few factors to keep in mind:
• We know through information from multiple sources that Kristin was a prolific journal writer and letter writer, so we have a plethora of writing samples to compare with this alleged “suicide note.”
• We refer to “the writer” in our discussion of the “suicide note” below. The reason for this phrasing is because the actual writer of this note is unknown. Did Kristin herself write it, either as a explanation for killing herself, or for the purpose of faking her own death? Did someone else write it to make her disappearance appear to be a suicide? Was part of the text written by Kristin and added to by another party? Was the entire note faked? Was the note written by Kristin, but under duress/coercion as Heidi pondered?
• See notes under each section below regarding clear discrepancies between Kristin’s baseline writing style based on the hundreds of writing samples we have obtained from multiple sources through varying times throughout her life.
Now, without further ado, let’s take an in-depth look at this “suicide note” – line by line.
“I attended a course called Executive Success Programs (aka Nexium) based out of Anchorage, AK + Albany, NY.”
• Who is the note intended for? There is no salutation. We have tons of samples of Kristin’s letters and there is always a salutation – AND a date. If this is really her “suicide note,” why wouldn’t she address it to her partner Heidi, friends, coworkers, and/or family – as she always had addressed people in her letters? Similarly, wouldn’t she document the date of the most significant letter of her life, as she did routinely with her letters? In fact, she often even included the specific time (for instance, 7:15 p.m.) that the letter or journal entry was written.
• In addition to a salutation and date on other writing samples, Kris also typically indented her paragraphs and she also usually wrote on each line of the paper in her letters and journal entries, unlike this “suicide note,” which does neither.
• Related to the numerous writing samples we have acquired though multiple sources, Kris also primarily wrote in cursive in both her letters and in her journal. This “suicide note” is an odd hybrid of cursive and print.
• Why would anyone start a suicide note with “I attended a course…”? Clearly, the writer of this note is directing the reader to correlate ESP with the disappearance, but it seems like a very odd place for anyone to start a suicide note. Also, Kris attended two courses, not “a course”; a fact that Kris would have clearly known.
• “aka Nexium” is another oddity. Kris did not take any NXIVM classes, not even one, despite the extensive recent propaganda linking her to NXIVM. Why? Because NXIVM did not even exist at the time of Kristin’s disappearance; it was still in the planning stages. The writer had obviously heard about these plans as evidenced by the phonetic spelling. Again, it is obvious the writer of the note is clearly directing the reader’s attention to ESP/NXIVM – but if Kris were distraught enough to write a suicide note (and as functionally incapacitated as reported by her partner), why/how would she focus on minutiae like this?
• Speaking of minutiae, it gets even more obvious in the next words: “based out of Anchorage, AK + Albany, NY.” First of all, WHO CARES where ESP was based? That is in no way pertinent to the reasoning, and apparently is another clear attempt by the writer to direct the reader toward ESP/NXIVM. Secondly, this information is actually wrong. ESP wasn’t “based out of Anchorage, AK” – they held classes in Anchorage in a rented hotel space. The home base was in NY. Furthermore, Kris knew very well that this information was wrong, having recently visited their NY headquarters herself weeks before her disappearance!
•The words “based out of” (city, state) are odd as well. None of Kristin’s other writing samples did this. Nowhere does she mention elsewhere that anything is “based out of” anywhere in any of her copious writing samples we have obtained.
• Furthermore, why would the note say “Anchorage, AK” anyway? Presumably, Alaska law enforcement would be able to deduce that Anchorage is in Alaska without this unnecessary clarification.
“I was brainwashed + my emotional center of the brain was killed/turned off. I still have feeling in my external skin but my internal organs are rotting.”
• If Kris was brainwashed, she wouldn’t know (at least at the time) that she had been brainwashed. Again, this seems to be yet another clear attempt by the writer to direct the reader to look at ESP.
• Furthermore, if Kris finally did realize that she had been brainwashed, why would she then kill herself?
• The writer switches “my” and “the” in a sentence – something Kris never did, even once, in the hundreds of pages of writing we have obtained. The sentence should read “the emotional center of my brain,” not “my emotional center of the brain.”
• Another oddity is in the redundancy of “external skin.” Again, this sort of mistake does not appear to be Kris’s style, based on other writing samples. She had a Master of Science (M.S.) in Biology and she worked as an environmental consultant to the National Guard. She was a precise, clear, scientific, and articulate writer.
• This passage clearly implies that Kris was suffering from Cotard’s syndrome; per WebMD: “People with Cotard’s syndrome (also called walking corpse syndrome or Cotard’s delusion) believe that parts of their body are missing, or that they are dying, dead, or don’t exist.” We have talked to multiple people who Kris had visited in her January 2003 trip immediately prior to her February 2003 disappearance, and nobody reported any observations of any mental health issues, suicidal ideation, depression, psychosis, nor delusions of any sort. All of the people who discussed Kris’s reported mental health decline stated that they had not personally witnessed any symptoms, but rather, they were told of a rapid decline following Kris’s disappearance.
• If Kris thought she was already dead, why would she kill herself?
“Please contact my parents Bob + Jonnie Snyder at (number redacted) in Dillon, SC if you find me or this note.”
• Why would she specify to contact her parents, who lived out-of-state? Why not her partner? Why, in fact, is Heidi, the love of her life and civil union partner not mentioned AT ALL in the entire note?
• The inclusion of Kris’s parents as the sole contacts listed in the note contradicts a specific story told at the time of the disappearance alleging that Kris had uncovered memories of abuse during the class and that these purported memories were the reason/a factor in her alleged suicide. But: if that story was true, why would she include her father in the note? It should be noted that there is no evidence whatsoever that Kris was abused. As with the alleged rapid mental health decline, people who reported that story were not told of the purported abuse by Kris themselves, but rather, they were told of the purported abuse allegations after her disappearance. In fact, we even have been given a copy of a text message exchange in which the person who spread this abuse claims refers to it as “the lie.” This is yet another example of the myriad of inconsistencies and contradictions that plague Kris’s case.
• Why mention “Dillon, SC”? There is already a phone number given, so the city/state is irrelevant, and also, it is not her typical style. Again, it seems like someone with a quirky tic to mention a city and state wrote this.
• “if you find me or this note” is similarly nonsensical. If someone found her but NOT the note, they wouldn’t see the note, would they? Again, this oddity of wording is inconsistent with Kris’s typically precise style.
“I am sorry, life, I didn’t know I was already dead. May we persist into the future. KRISTN (sic) SNYDER”
• Again, if she thought she was already dead, why would she need to kill herself?
• Why is she addressing “life”?
• “May we persist into the future” is interesting. “Persist into the future” is a phrase used in ecology, which could potentially mean a couple things: a). Kristin wrote this herself; b). Kristin wrote this phrase elsewhere and someone traced/copied it onto the “suicide note”; or c). the writer had seen a document that referred to this phrase and used it.
• WHO LEAVES A LETTER OUT OF THEIR OWN NAME???? The second “I” is missing in “KRISTN.” Furthermore, as mentioned earlier, Kris predominantly wrote in cursive and she typically signed her name in cursive as well. Why, in the most important document of her life, would she BLOCK PRINT her name, and even more bizarre, why would she leave a letter out of her own name? The writer appears to drop letters and cram letters together, but there is no evidence from other writings that Kris did these things.
“No need to search for my body”
• Why was this written on the BACK of the page on the “suicide note”? And why was the note left inside of a notebook to begin with?
• Kris was a member of the Anchorage Nordic Ski Patrol, and therefore, she was involved in search and rescue. Therefore, she would already know that THEY WOULD SEARCH FOR HER ANYWAY. Also, more importantly, why would she intentionally hide her own body and therefore put her colleagues/friends on the search and rescue team through the extensive trouble and potential dangers of conducting the search for her?
• Why write “my body” on the back of the page but write “me” on the front of the page of the note? That is yet another incongruity.
• Why the emphasis on not looking for a body? The writer clearly has a very specific reason to mention this; there is a reason the writer does not want the body found. It is very rare for a person to want to hide his/her own body, and even more rare to be able to successfully do so.

At midnight i look at my chair, its made of plastic, plastic has no repeating letters, copyright also doesn't, if i copy someone i get copyrighted, i can copy some random dude on the street and its ok, i think, thoughts they rush and confuse and perplex my very being in the very essence of it, how am i here? Completely speechless, drives me into submission paired with a satirical flavor of the crescendo of my favorite musical composition as it plays along itself gently in my brain, perhaps, that, being faced with uncertainties, a glimpse of reality truly is... refreshing, the river of emotions trapped by an comically large endeavor of experiences suddenly rip through, like a balloon, Shall this be it? Thy does not know, for i, am for my conscience, or am I for my essence? Still to answer such mind-blowing question, Oh, yes the chair, calmly sit along, it's great and sturdy atoms enough to handle a fellow Homo Sapien, Interestingly for my very own conscience, you fade away, is this a simulation? For my essence, it develops my personality, and grips itself in delight and an euphoria of my very own essence, the dilemma growls, inching and being for continuation, but shall I indulge in such meticulous act? It drives me into, new barriers but new problems, I need an answer, however it seems far from reality, quietly hums along the sound of uncertainty, the constant terrorizer of my existence, drives me insane, and ends me. Only you have the courage and strength to find out, if, Cereal is a soup or not?

Worn out Christmas colors, sun bleached cracked plastic, dried grass braided between the seems. Mother Gaia pulling forgotten memories back into her womb.
A faced down softcover autographed copy of a spent hero's loosh lying unopened, beading tears of dew that are slowly drying away with the years and the memories of another way of the universe.
A coffee stain mug reading "worlds best mom" slightly cracked filled with dusty paperclips and a few glass stones covered in an unknown stickiness sit on top of a small stack of mismatched papers.
A hooded sweatshirt with a broken zipper blankets a gaudy night lamp with bent shades and missing panels sits comfortably upon a birds nest of wires snaking out like auxiliary fingers to satiate idle wonders.
Picture frames with faded stock images spoon half used metallic make up containers sandwiching next to unused parchment with empty sealed envelopes.
Behind a tattered and flaked white picket fence an old man rocks alone with his head down humming a soft tune on his front porch .
I walk away down the sidewalk with arms full of nostalgia, looking back I see a piece of white paper bouncing in the wind hanging on with one piece of clear tape.
The red letters spelled "Free" and were washed out from drops of rain or drops of tears.

Hi everyone. New here, and I am completely mind blown by my issue, so is the IT staff at work. While connected to the internet at home, being wifi or hardwired Ethernet connection, I cannot cut, copy, or paste in Microsoft applications. In excel, while starting a formula, once I type a letter after =, the letter goes away and I get an immediate NAME? error. I can’t remember the exact steps to this one, but in word and outlook when I hit CTRL, I get these {{{{{{{{}}}}}}}. I can’t remember if that happened after CTRL C or immediately after CTRL. (I am at work now so I can’t replicate issue). After the {{{{{{ show up, sometimes I get error saying “Fields are nested too deeply”. I am unable to close this error out permanently, everytime I hit close, it pops back up again. I have to use task manager to end program.
My Microsoft applications also become very slow when connected at home. Once I try something that isn’t working (cut, copy, paste, type formula), I can’t get out of that document. If I hover mouse over other opened documents to bring them up on screen, nothing happens. Using task manager to end program.
If I turn my laptop to airplane mode, the issue goes away. I have connected to wifi at seven places testing the issue, and I only have the issue at home. I reset my modem/router. The only test I have left is to find a neighbor who uses same internet company as me and see if problem replicates while using their wifi connection. None of the seven places I have tested so far have the same internet company as me. The IT staff at work thought I was insane until they remoted in while I was working from home and saw the issue.
I hope I have relayed the issues in semi comprehensive way. I will be home tonite to get more specifics. Just to add: Microsoft teams works fine. Word, Outlook, nand excel are the issues. Thank you for taking the time to read my novel!