Bassett parsons ridge

A Different Pascha – 1928

2024.05.09 08:43 Yurii_S_Kh A Different Pascha – 1928

A Different Pascha – 1928
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Serge Schmemann, son of Fr. Alexander Schmemann, in his wonderful little book, Echoes of a Native Land, records a letter written from one of his family members of an earlier generation, who spent several years in the prisons of the Soviets and died there. The letter, written on the night of Pascha in 1928 is to a family member, “Uncle Grishanchik” (This was Grigory Trubetskoi who had managed to emigrate to Paris). This letter should become a classic of Orthodox writing and witness to the faith that sustained so many and is today being resurrected in so many places. The triumph of the Resurrection so transcends his prison cell it’s a wonder that the walls remained. The entire book is a wonderful read. I recommend it without reservation.
30 March/ 12 April 1928
Dear Uncle Grishanchik,
I greet you and Aunt Masha with the impending Holy Day, and I wish you all the very best. For a long, long time I have wanted to write to you, dear Uncle Grishanchik; you always showed such concern for me, you helped me so generously in a difficult moment of my life, and, mainly, your entire image is so inseparably linked for each of us, your nephews, with such wonderful memories; you always are, were, and will be our dearest, most beloved uncle.
I am approaching the fourth Easter that I will spend behind these walls, separated from my family, but the feelings for these holy days which were infused in me from earliest childhood do not fail me now; from the beginning of Holy Week I have felt the approach of the Feast, I follow the life of the Church, I repeat to myself the hymns of the Holy Week services, and in my soul there arise those feelings of tender reverence that I used to feel as a child going to confession or communion. At 35 those feelings are as strong and as deep as in those childhood years.
My dear Uncle Grishanchik, going over past Easters in my memory, I remember our last Easter at Sergiyevskoye, which we spent with you and Aunt Masha, and I felt the immediate need to write you. If you have not forgotten, Easter in 1918 was rather late, and spring was early and very warm, so when in the last weeks of Lent I had to take Aunt Masha to Ferzikovo, the roads were impassable. I remember that trip as now; it was a warm, heavy, and humid day, which consumed the last snow in the forests and gullies faster than the hottest sun; wherever you looked, water, water, and more water, and all the sounds seemed to rise from it, from the burbling and rushing of the streams on all sides to the ceaseless ring of countless larks. We had to go by sleigh – not on the road, which wound through the half-naked fields in a single muddy ridge, but alongside, carefully choosing the route. Each hoofprint, each track left by the runners, immediately turned into a small muddy stream, busily rushing off somewhere. We drove forever, exhausting the poor horse, and, finally, after successfully eluding the Polivanovo field, one of the most difficult places, I became too bold and got Aunt Masha so mired that I nearly drowned the horse and the sleigh; we had to unharness to pull it out and got wet to the eyebrows; in a word, total “local color.”
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I remember the feeling I had that spring of growing strength, but that entire happy springtime din, for all the beauty and joy of awakening nature, could not muffle the sense of alarm that squeezed the heart in each of us. Either some hand rose in senseless fury to profane our Sergiyevskoye, or there was the troubling sense that our loving and closely welded family was being broken up: Sonia far off somewhere with a pile of kids, alone, separated from her husband; Seryozha, just married, we don’t know where or how, and you, my dear Uncle Grisha and Auht Masha, separated from your young ones, in constant worry over them. It was a hard and difficult time. But I believe that beyond these specific problems, this spiritual fog had a deeper common source: we all, old and young, stood then at a critical turning point: unaware of it, we were bidding farewell to a past filled with beloved memories, while ahead there loomed some hostile utterly unknown future.
And in the midst of all this came Holy Week. the spring was in that stage when nature, after a big shove to cast off winter’s shackles, suddenly grows quiet, as if resting from the first victory. But below this apparent calm there is always the sense of a complex, hidden process taking place somewhere deep in the earth, which is preparing to open up in all its force, in all the beauty of growth and flowering. Plowing and seeding the earth rasied rich scents, and, following the plow on the sweaty, softly turning furrow, you were enveloped in the marvelous smell of moist earth. I always became intoxicated by that smell, because in it one senses the limitless creative power of nature.
I don’t know how you all felt at the time, because I lived a totally separate life and worked from morning to night in the fields, not seeing, and, yes, not wanting to see, anything else. It was too painful to think, and only total physical exhaustion gave one a chance, if not to forget, then at least to forget oneself. But with Holy Week began the services in church and at home, I had to lead the choir in rehearsal and in church; on Holy Wednesday I finished the sowing of oats and, putting away the plow and harrow, gave myself entirely over to the tuning fork. And here began that which I will never forget!
Dear Uncle Grishanchik! Do you remember the service of the Twelve Gospels in our Sergiyevskoye church? Do you remember that marvelous, inimitable manner of our little parson? This spring will be nine years that he passed away during the midnight Easter service, but even now, when I hear certain litanies or certain Gospel readings, I can hear the exhilarated voice of our kind parson, his intonations piercing to the very soul. I remember that you were taken by this service, that it had a large impact on you. I see now the huge crucifix rising in the midst of the church, with figures of the Mother of God on one side and the Apostle John on the other, framed by multicolored votive lights, the waving flame of many candles, and, among the thoroughly familiar throng of Sergiyevskoye peasants, your figure by the right wall in front of the candle counter, with a contemplative expression on your face. If you only knew what was happening in my soul at that time! It was an entire turnover, some huge, healing revelation!
Don’t be surprised that I’m writing this way; I don’t think I’m exaggerating anything, it’s just that I feel great emotion remembering all these things, because I am continuously breaking off to go to the window and listen. A quiet, starry night hangs over Moscow, and I can hear first one, then another church mark the successive Gospels with slow, measured strikes of the bell. I think of my Lina and our Marinochka, of Papa, Mama, my sisters, brothers, of all of you, feeling the sadness of expatriation in these days, all so dear and close. However painful, especially at this time, the awareness of our separation, I firmly, unshakably believe all the same that the hour will come when we will all gather together, just as you are all gathered now in my thoughts.
1/14 April – They’ve allowed me to finish writing letters, and I deliberately sat down to finish it this night. Any minute now the Easter matins will start; in our cell everything is clean, and on our large common table stand kulichi and paskha, a huge “X.B.” [Christos Voskrese “Christ is risen”] from fresh watercress is beautifully arranged on a white table cloth with brightly colored eggs all around. It’s unusually quiet in the cell; in order not to arouse the guards, we all lay down on lowered cots (there are 24 of us) in anticipation of the bells, and I sat down to write to you again.
I remember I walked out of the Sergiyevskoye church at that time overwhelmed by a mass of feelings and sensations, and my earlier spiritual fog seemed a trifle, deserving of no attention. In the great images of the Holy Week services, the horror of man’s sin and the suffering of the Creator leading to the great triumph of the resurrection, I suddenly discovered that eternal, indestructible beginning, which was also in that temporarily quiet spring, hiding in itself the seed of a total renewal of all that lives. The services continued in their stern, rich order; images replaced images, and when, on Holy Saturday, after the singing of “Arise, O Lord,” the deacon, having changed into a white robe, walked into the center of the church to the burial cloth to read the gospel about the resurrection, it seemed to me that we are all equally shaken, that we all feel and pray as one.
In the meantime, spring went on the offensive. When we walked to the Easter matins, the night was humid, heavy clouds covered the sky, and walking through the dark alleys of the linden park, I imagined a motion in the ground, as if innumerable invisible plants were pushing through the earth toward air and light.
I don’t know if our midnight Easter matins made any impression on you then. For me there never was, and never will be, anything better than Easter at Seriyevskoye. We are all too organically tied to Sergiyevskoye for anything to transcend it, to evoke so much good. This is not blind patriotism, because for all of us Seriyevskoye was that spiritual cradle in which everything by which each of us lives and breathes was born and raised.
My dear Uncle Grishanchik, as I’ve been writing to you the scattered ringing around Moscow has become a mighty festive peal. Processions have begun, the sounds of firecrackers reach us, one church after another joins the growing din of bells. The wave of sound swells. There! Somewhere entirely nearby, a small church breaks brightly through the common chord with such a joyous, exultant little voice. Sometimes it seems that the tumult has begun to wane, and suddenly a new wave rushes in with unexpected strength, a grand hymn between heaven and earth.
I cannot write any more! That which I now hear is too overwhelming, too good, to try to convey in words. The incontrovertible sermon of the Resurrection seems to rise from this mighty peal of praise. My dear uncle Grishanchik, it is so good in my soul that the only way I can express my spirit is to say to you once again, Christ is Risen!
Georgy
Fr. Stephen Freeman
Glory To God For All Things
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2024.05.03 16:18 United-Hall-6449 What's going on in NWA this weekend?

May the 4th be with you and happy Cinco de Mayo. There is a ton of stuff going on this weekend in NWA! Here's a list from NWA Daily
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2024.05.03 16:17 United-Hall-6449 What's going on in NWA this weekend?

May the 4th be with you and happy Cinco de Mayo. There is a ton of stuff going on this weekend in NWA! Here's a list from NWA Daily
submitted by United-Hall-6449 to northwestarkansas [link] [comments]

2024.04.23 11:48 Willy_Fisher The Strange High House in the Mist.

In the morning mist comes up from the sea by the cliffs beyond Kingsport. White and feathery it comes from the deep to its brothers the clouds, full of dreams of dank pastures and caves of leviathan. And later, in still summer rains on the steep roofs of poets, the clouds scatter bits of those dreams, that men shall not live without rumour of old, strange secrets, and wonders that planets tell planets alone in the night. When tales fly thick in the grottoes of tritons, and conches in seaweed cities blow wild tunes learned from the Elder Ones, then great eager mists flock to heaven laden with lore, and oceanward eyes on the rocks see only a mystic whiteness, as if the cliff’s rim were the rim of all earth, and the solemn bells of buoys tolled free in the aether of faery. Now north of archaic Kingsport the crags climb lofty and curious, terrace on terrace, till the northernmost hangs in the sky like a grey frozen wind-cloud. Alone it is, a bleak point jutting in limitless space, for there the coast turns sharp where the great Miskatonic pours out of the plains past Arkham, bringing woodland legends and little quaint memories of New England’s hills. The sea-folk in Kingsport look up at that cliff as other sea-folk look up at the pole-star, and time the night’s watches by the way it hides or shews the Great Bear, Cassiopeia, and the Dragon. Among them it is one with the firmament, and truly, it is hidden from them when the mist hides the stars or the sun. Some of the cliffs they love, as that whose grotesque profile they call Father Neptune, or that whose pillared steps they term The Causeway; but this one they fear because it is so near the sky. The Portuguese sailors coming in from a voyage cross themselves when they first see it, and the old Yankees believe it would be a much graver matter than death to climb it, if indeed that were possible. Nevertheless there is an ancient house on that cliff, and at evening men see lights in the small-paned windows. The ancient house has always been there, and people say One dwells therein who talks with the morning mists that come up from the deep, and perhaps sees singular things oceanward at those times when the cliff’s rim becomes the rim of all earth, and solemn buoys toll free in the white aether of faery. This they tell from hearsay, for that forbidding crag is always unvisited, and natives dislike to train telescopes on it. Summer boarders have indeed scanned it with jaunty binoculars, but have never seen more than the grey primeval roof, peaked and shingled, whose eaves come nearly to the grey foundations, and the dim yellow light of the little windows peeping out from under those eaves in the dusk. These summer people do not believe that the same One has lived in the ancient house for hundreds of years, but cannot prove their heresy to any real Kingsporter. Even the Terrible Old Man who talks to leaden pendulums in bottles, buys groceries with centuried Spanish gold, and keeps stone idols in the yard of his antediluvian cottage in Water Street can only say these things were the same when his grandfather was a boy, and that must have been inconceivable ages ago, when Belcher or Shirley or Pownall or Bernard was Governor of His Majesty’s Province of the Massachusetts-Bay. Then one summer there came a philosopher into Kingsport. His name was Thomas Olney, and he taught ponderous things in a college by Narragansett Bay. With stout wife and romping children he came, and his eyes were weary with seeing the same things for many years, and thinking the same well-disciplined thoughts. He looked at the mists from the diadem of Father Neptune, and tried to walk into their white world of mystery along the titan steps of The Causeway. Morning after morning he would lie on the cliffs and look over the world’s rim at the cryptical aether beyond, listening to spectral bells and the wild cries of what might have been gulls. Then, when the mist would lift and the sea stand out prosy with the smoke of steamers, he would sigh and descend to the town, where he loved to thread the narrow olden lanes up and down hill, and study the crazy tottering gables and odd pillared doorways which had sheltered so many generations of sturdy sea-folk. And he even talked with the Terrible Old Man, who was not fond of strangers, and was invited into his fearsomely archaic cottage where low ceilings and wormy panelling hear the echoes of disquieting soliloquies in the dark small hours. Of course it was inevitable that Olney should mark the grey unvisited cottage in the sky, on that sinister northward crag which is one with the mists and the firmament. Always over Kingsport it hung, and always its mystery sounded in whispers through Kingsport’s crooked alleys. The Terrible Old Man wheezed a tale that his father had told him, of lightning that shot one night up from that peaked cottage to the clouds of higher heaven; and Granny Orne, whose tiny gambrel-roofed abode in Ship Street is all covered with moss and ivy, croaked over something her grandmother had heard at second-hand, about shapes that flapped out of the eastern mists straight into the narrow single door of that unreachable place—for the door is set close to the edge of the crag toward the ocean, and glimpsed only from ships at sea. At length, being avid for new strange things and held back by neither the Kingsporter’s fear nor the summer boarder’s usual indolence, Olney made a very terrible resolve. Despite a conservative training—or because of it, for humdrum lives breed wistful longings of the unknown—he swore a great oath to scale that avoided northern cliff and visit the abnormally antique grey cottage in the sky. Very plausibly his saner self argued that the place must be tenanted by people who reached it from inland along the easier ridge beside the Miskatonic’s estuary. Probably they traded in Arkham, knowing how little Kingsport liked their habitation, or perhaps being unable to climb down the cliff on the Kingsport side. Olney walked out along the lesser cliffs to where the great crag leaped insolently up to consort with celestial things, and became very sure that no human feet could mount it or descend it on that beetling southern slope. East and north it rose thousands of feet vertically from the water, so only the western side, inland and toward Arkham, remained. One early morning in August Olney set out to find a path to the inaccessible pinnacle. He worked northwest along pleasant back roads, past Hooper’s Pond and the old brick powder-house to where the pastures slope up to the ridge above the Miskatonic and give a lovely vista of Arkham’s white Georgian steeples across leagues of river and meadow. Here he found a shady road to Arkham, but no trail at all in the seaward direction he wished. Woods and fields crowded up to the high bank of the river’s mouth, and bore not a sign of man’s presence; not even a stone wall or a straying cow, but only the tall grass and giant trees and tangles of briers that the first Indian might have seen. As he climbed slowly east, higher and higher above the estuary on his left and nearer and nearer the sea, he found the way growing in difficulty; till he wondered how ever the dwellers in that disliked place managed to reach the world outside, and whether they came often to market in Arkham. Then the trees thinned, and far below him on his right he saw the hills and antique roofs and spires of Kingsport. Even Central Hill was a dwarf from this height, and he could just make out the ancient graveyard by the Congregational Hospital, beneath which rumour said some terrible caves or burrows lurked. Ahead lay sparse grass and scrub blueberry bushes, and beyond them the naked rock of the crag and the thin peak of the dreaded grey cottage. Now the ridge narrowed, and Olney grew dizzy at his loneness in the sky. South of him the frightful precipice above Kingsport, north of him the vertical drop of nearly a mile to the river’s mouth. Suddenly a great chasm opened before him, ten feet deep, so that he had to let himself down by his hands and drop to a slanting floor, and then crawl perilously up a natural defile in the opposite wall. So this was the way the folk of the uncanny house journeyed betwixt earth and sky! When he climbed out of the chasm a morning mist was gathering, but he clearly saw the lofty and unhallowed cottage ahead; walls as grey as the rock, and high peak standing bold against the milky white of the seaward vapours. And he perceived that there was no door on this landward end, but only a couple of small lattice windows with dingy bull’s-eye panes leaded in seventeenth-century fashion. All around him was cloud and chaos, and he could see nothing below but the whiteness of illimitable space. He was alone in the sky with this queer and very disturbing house; and when he sidled around to the front and saw that the wall stood flush with the cliff’s edge, so that the single narrow door was not to be reached save from the empty aether, he felt a distinct terror that altitude could not wholly explain. And it was very odd that shingles so worm-eaten could survive, or bricks so crumbled still form a standing chimney. As the mist thickened, Olney crept around to the windows on the north and west and south sides, trying them but finding them all locked. He was vaguely glad they were locked, because the more he saw of that house the less he wished to get in. Then a sound halted him. He heard a lock rattle and bolt shoot, and a long creaking follow as if a heavy door were slowly and cautiously opened. This was on the oceanward side that he could not see, where the narrow portal opened on blank space thousands of feet in the misty sky above the waves. Then there was heavy, deliberate tramping in the cottage, and Olney heard the windows opening, first on the north side opposite him, and then on the west just around the corner. Next would come the south windows, under the great low eaves on the side where he stood; and it must be said that he was more than uncomfortable as he thought of the detestable house on one side and the vacancy of upper air on the other. When a fumbling came in the nearer casements he crept around to the west again, flattening himself against the wall beside the now opened windows. It was plain that the owner had come home; but he had not come from the land, nor from any balloon or airship that could be imagined. Steps sounded again, and Olney edged round to the north; but before he could find a haven a voice called softly, and he knew he must confront his host. Stuck out of a west window was a great black-bearded face whose eyes shone phosphorescently with the imprint of unheard-of sights. But the voice was gentle, and of a quaint olden kind, so that Olney did not shudder when a brown hand reached out to help him over the sill and into that low room of black oak wainscots and carved Tudor furnishings. The man was clad in very ancient garments, and had about him an unplaceable nimbus of sea-lore and dreams of tall galleons. Olney does not recall many of the wonders he told, or even who he was; but says that he was strange and kindly, and filled with the magic of unfathomed voids of time and space. The small room seemed green with a dim aqueous light, and Olney saw that the far windows to the east were not open, but shut against the misty aether with dull thick panes like the bottoms of old bottles. That bearded host seemed young, yet looked out of eyes steeped in the elder mysteries; and from the tales of marvellous ancient things he related, it must be guessed that the village folk were right in saying he had communed with the mists of the sea and the clouds of the sky ever since there was any village to watch his taciturn dwelling from the plain below. And the day wore on, and still Olney listened to rumours of old times and far places, and heard how the Kings of Atlantis fought with the slippery blasphemies that wriggled out of rifts in ocean’s floor, and how the pillared and weedy temple of Poseidonis is still glimpsed at midnight by lost ships, who know by its sight that they are lost. Years of the Titans were recalled, but the host grew timid when he spoke of the dim first age of chaos before the gods or even the Elder Ones were born, and when only the other gods came to dance on the peak of Hatheg-Kla in the stony desert near Ulthar, beyond the river Skai. It was at this point that there came a knocking on the door; that ancient door of nail-studded oak beyond which lay only the abyss of white cloud. Olney started in fright, but the bearded man motioned him to be still, and tiptoed to the door to look out through a very small peep-hole. What he saw he did not like, so pressed his fingers to his lips and tiptoed around to shut and lock all the windows before returning to the ancient settle beside his guest. Then Olney saw lingering against the translucent squares of each of the little dim windows in succession a queer black outline as the caller moved inquisitively about before leaving; and he was glad his host had not answered the knocking. For there are strange objects in the great abyss, and the seeker of dreams must take care not to stir up or meet the wrong ones. Then the shadows began to gather; first little furtive ones under the table, and then bolder ones in the dark panelled corners. And the bearded man made enigmatical gestures of prayer, and lit tall candles in curiously wrought brass candlesticks. Frequently he would glance at the door as if he expected someone, and at length his glance seemed answered by a singular rapping which must have followed some very ancient and secret code. This time he did not even glance through the peep-hole, but swung the great oak bar and shot the bolt, unlatching the heavy door and flinging it wide to the stars and the mist. And then to the sound of obscure harmonies there floated into that room from the deep all the dreams and memories of earth’s sunken Mighty Ones. And golden flames played about weedy locks, so that Olney was dazzled as he did them homage. Trident-bearing Neptune was there, and sportive tritons and fantastic nereids, and upon dolphins’ backs was balanced a vast crenulate shell wherein rode the grey and awful form of primal Nodens, Lord of the Great Abyss. And the conches of the tritons gave weird blasts, and the nereids made strange sounds by striking on the grotesque resonant shells of unknown lurkers in black sea-caves. Then hoary Nodens reached forth a wizened hand and helped Olney and his host into the vast shell, whereat the conches and the gongs set up a wild and awesome clamour. And out into the limitless aether reeled that fabulous train, the noise of whose shouting was lost in the echoes of thunder. All night in Kingsport they watched that lofty cliff when the storm and the mists gave them glimpses of it, and when toward the small hours the little dim windows went dark they whispered of dread and disaster. And Olney’s children and stout wife prayed to the bland proper god of Baptists, and hoped that the traveller would borrow an umbrella and rubbers unless the rain stopped by morning. Then dawn swam dripping and mist-wreathed out of the sea, and the buoys tolled solemn in vortices of white aether. And at noon elfin horns rang over the ocean as Olney, dry and light-footed, climbed down from the cliffs to antique Kingsport with the look of far places in his eyes. He could not recall what he had dreamed in the sky-perched hut of that still nameless hermit, or say how he had crept down that crag untraversed by other feet. Nor could he talk of these matters at all save with the Terrible Old Man, who afterward mumbled queer things in his long white beard; vowing that the man who came down from that crag was not wholly the man who went up, and that somewhere under that grey peaked roof, or amidst inconceivable reaches of that sinister white mist, there lingered still the lost spirit of him who was Thomas Olney. And ever since that hour, through dull dragging years of greyness and weariness, the philosopher has laboured and eaten and slept and done uncomplaining the suitable deeds of a citizen. Not any more does he long for the magic of farther hills, or sigh for secrets that peer like green reefs from a bottomless sea. The sameness of his days no longer gives him sorrow, and well-disciplined thoughts have grown enough for his imagination. His good wife waxes stouter and his children older and prosier and more useful, and he never fails to smile correctly with pride when the occasion calls for it. In his glance there is not any restless light, and if he ever listens for solemn bells or far elfin horns it is only at night when old dreams are wandering. He has never seen Kingsport again, for his family disliked the funny old houses, and complained that the drains were impossibly bad. They have a trim bungalow now at Bristol Highlands, where no tall crags tower, and the neighbours are urban and modern. But in Kingsport strange tales are abroad, and even the Terrible Old Man admits a thing untold by his grandfather. For now, when the wind sweeps boisterous out of the north past the high ancient house that is one with the firmament, there is broken at last that ominous brooding silence ever before the bane of Kingsport’s maritime cotters. And old folk tell of pleasing voices heard singing there, and of laughter that swells with joys beyond earth’s joys; and say that at evening the little low windows are brighter than formerly. They say, too, that the fierce aurora comes oftener to that spot, shining blue in the north with visions of frozen worlds while the crag and the cottage hang black and fantastic against wild coruscations. And the mists of the dawn are thicker, and sailors are not quite so sure that all the muffled seaward ringing is that of the solemn buoys. Worst of all, though, is the shrivelling of old fears in the hearts of Kingsport’s young men, who grow prone to listen at night to the north wind’s faint distant sounds. They swear no harm or pain can inhabit that high peaked cottage, for in the new voices gladness beats, and with them the tinkle of laughter and music. What tales the sea-mists may bring to that haunted and northernmost pinnacle they do not know, but they long to extract some hint of the wonders that knock at the cliff-yawning door when clouds are thickest. And patriarchs dread lest some day one by one they seek out that inaccessible peak in the sky, and learn what centuried secrets hide beneath the steep shingled roof which is part of the rocks and the stars and the ancient fears of Kingsport. That those venturesome youths will come back they do not doubt, but they think a light may be gone from their eyes, and a will from their hearts. And they do not wish quaint Kingsport with its climbing lanes and archaic gables to drag listless down the years while voice by voice the laughing chorus grows stronger and wilder in that unknown and terrible eyrie where mists and the dreams of mists stop to rest on their way from the sea to the skies. They do not wish the souls of their young men to leave the pleasant hearths and gambrel-roofed taverns of old Kingsport, nor do they wish the laughter and song in that high rocky place to grow louder. For as the voice which has come has brought fresh mists from the sea and from the north fresh lights, so do they say that still other voices will bring more mists and more lights, till perhaps the olden gods (whose existence they hint only in whispers for fear the Congregational parson shall hear) may come out of the deep and from unknown Kadath in the cold waste and make their dwelling on that evilly appropriate crag so close to the gentle hills and valleys of quiet simple fisherfolk. This they do not wish, for to plain people things not of earth are unwelcome; and besides, the Terrible Old Man often recalls what Olney said about a knock that the lone dweller feared, and a shape seen black and inquisitive against the mist through those queer translucent windows of leaded bull’s-eyes. All these things, however, the Elder Ones only may decide; and meanwhile the morning mist still comes up by that lonely vertiginous peak with the steep ancient house, that grey low-eaved house where none is seen but where evening brings furtive lights while the north wind tells of strange revels. White and feathery it comes from the deep to its brothers the clouds, full of dreams of dank pastures and caves of leviathan. And when tales fly thick in the grottoes of tritons, and conches in seaweed cities blow wild tunes learned from the Elder Ones, then great eager vapours flock to heaven laden with lore; and Kingsport, nestling uneasy on its lesser cliffs below that awesome hanging sentinel of rock, sees oceanward only a mystic whiteness, as if the cliff’s rim were the rim of all earth, and the solemn bells of the buoys tolled free in the aether of faery.
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2024.04.01 21:48 lillypad_empress Best wines from these choices?

Edit: Of course mobile erased my formatting. Working on it.
Albert Mann,
Benziger Estate,
Biokult Gruner Veltner,
Bonterra “The McNab” Single Red Blend,
Bonterra, “The Roost, Single-Vineyard Chardonnay,
Cellario E Bianco,
Cellario E Rosso,
Cooper Mountain Pinot Gris , Corte Sant’Alda Amarone,
Corte Sant’Alda Valpolicella Ca Fiui , Cos Frappato,
Cos Nero di Lupo,
Cos Rami,
Cruz de Alba Finca Los Hoyales,
Domaine Anderson Pinot Noir,
Domaine Ostertag,
Emidio Pepe,
Foradori Teroldego Granato,
Foradori Teroldego,
Furlani Alpino Sparkling,
Gravner Bianco Breg,
Gravner Ribolla Gialla,
Guy Chaumont Bourgogne Côte Chalonnaise,
Hawk and Horse Vineyards,
Leclerc Briant Brut Rosé Champagne,
La Staffa Brioso Sangiovese Sparkling,
Marcel Deiss Riesling,
Maysara Winery Jamsheed,
Montinore Estate, Almost Dry Riesling,
Montinore Estate Reserve Pinot Noir,
Montinore, Parsons’ Ridge Pinot Noir,
Orsi San Vito Pignoletto Sparkling,
Paxton MV Shiraz,
Paxton Shiraz AAA Shiraz/Grenache,
Perlage Col di Manza Rive di Ogliano Valdobbiadene,
Pizzolato Raboso,
Querciabella,
Querciabella Chianti Classico,
Querciabella Mongrana, Toscana IGT, Sangiovese, Cabernet Sauvignon, and Merlot,
Querciabella, Batàr, Toscana IGT, Chardonnay, Pinot Blanc,
Querciabella, Turpino, Toscana IGT, Cabernet Franc, Syrah, Merlot, Tuscany,
Quivira GSM, Wine Creek Ranch, Dry Creek Valley Grenache, Syrah, Mourvedre,
Quivira, Zinfandel, Anderson Ranch, Dry Creek Valley,
Radikon Oslavje,
Radikon Ribolla Gialla,
Tenuta di Valgiano Palistrorti Rosso,
Three Degrees,
Three Degrees, Pinot Noir,
Trapiche,
Westwood Estate Wines,
Youngberg Hill, Aspen, Chardonnay,
Youngberg Hill, Bailey, Pinot Noir,
Youngberg Hill, Jordan, Pinot Noir,
Youngberg Hill, Natasha, Pinot Noir,
Zind-Humbrecht
submitted by lillypad_empress to wine [link] [comments]

2024.03.15 18:29 groupbrip Live Music in ABQ - weekend March 15-18, 2014

There are over 30 shows in ABQ this weekend! Hope to see you out there!

FRIDAY MAR. 15

​
The Get Down on the w/ DJ Jimmy Djembe & Buddhafunk - El Rey Mezzanine - 21+ Doors at 7
Hockey Dad * Mind's Eye * Side Montero - Launchpad - $20 - **ALL AGES*\* - Doors at 7
Joseph General and High Vibration w/ Baracutanga, Super Versa, DJ Henry - Sister Bar - $15 - 21+ Doors at 7
Bodega Tings, a club night by Ryan Demond - Juno - $5 - 21+ Doors at 8
Third Vision Presents: Mugshot * Kaonashipa * Mouth For War * Cell - Ren's Den - $20 - **ALL AGES*\* Doors at 7
BIJOU - Backstage at Revel - $25 - 21+ Doors at 9
Dirt Monkey w/ The Widdler - Electric Playhouse - 21+ Doors at 9 - Tickets at ElectricPlayhouse.com
Groundware w/ Domingoh * Justin Cristofer - ABQ Social Club - $5 for non-members - 9 - Close
Asphalt Cowboys - Dirty Bourbon - 21+ 7-9
Cerveza Light Can Release El Gozao - Marble Downtown - **NO COVER*\* 21+ 8 - 11
Cerveza Light Can Release DJ Flo Fader - Marble Heights - **NO COVER*\* 21+ 7 - 9
Cerveza Light Can Release with Trinity Soul - Marble Westside - **NO COVER*\* 21+ 7 - 9
Black Unicorn, Ouija Chords, Rod Lacy - Echoes - $5 - 21+ Doors at 7
Benny Bassett - Nob Hill Stage - **NO COVER*\* - 21+ 6-9
Green Jelly with Thinky Flesh * Seen Loc - Moonlight Lounge - $15 - 21+ Doors at 7

SATURDAY MAR. 16

Circle Jerks * Descendents with Adolescents - El Rey Theater - **ALL AGES*\* Doors at 7 - Tickets at ElReyLive.com
The Riddims * Lakedub * Boomroots Collective * Josué Urrutia w/ DJ Jimmy Djembe - Launchpad - $10 - 21+ Doors at 7
STRANGE MIX - Alternative Classics, 80's 90's New Wave, Industrial, EBM, Electro, Punk, Glam - Moonlight Lounge - $10 - 21+ - Doors at 8
The Schizophonics - Sister Bar - $12 - 21+ Doors at 7
Ralph Barbosa: The Super Cool Ass Tour - Revel - **ALL AGES*\* - Doors at 6 --SOLD OUT--
Hip Hop Showcase w/ Mala in se, Big G, Ilicit, ickymac, DJ 808, Nicasso, CS Rucker, Blakwulf - Black Wall Gallery - **ALL AGES*\* - Doors at 4
Cumbia Night with Grupo Super Verza. Rock en Espanol with Avenida 69 - Juno - $15 - 21+ Doors at 8
Manhigh, The Fondants, November Radio - Echoes - $10 - 21+ Doors at 7
Absolute Mayhem presents: Heart Museum * Eyes of a Killer * Kill the Bandit Leader * Good Housekeeping * FRXNK - Ren's Den - $10 - 21+ Doors at 7
Kansas - Another Fork in the Road 50th Anniversary Tour - Kiva Auditorium - **ALL AGES*\* - 7:30 - Tickets at Ticketmaster.com
St. Patrick's Day Reggaeton Sabor w/ Don Dirty * El Gueroo * Spunjy Hicks * Con Risa - Club 401 - 21+ Tickets at AstrlEntertainment.com
First Floor Highway - Nob Hill Stage - **NO COVER*\* - 21+ 6-9
Paddy McNitro Release Reviva - Marble Downtown - **NO COVER*\* 21+ 7 - 10
Monsoon Music House Songwriters Contest and Paddy McNitro Release - Marble Heights - **NO COVER*\* 21+ - 6-9
Paddy McNitro Release with Benny Bassett - Marble Westside - **NO COVER*\* 21+ 7 - 9
Space4Space - High and Dry Brewing - **NO COVER** - 21+ 7-9

SUNDAY MAR. 17

St Punktricks Day!! Subtle Knife * Rock Jong Il * Roadside Memorial * Beefcake in Chains * DJ Riff Rat - Launchpad - $5 - 21+ Doors at 5
International Folk Dance w/ Parson Sisters - Juno - **NO COVER*\* - 2:30 - 5pm
submitted by groupbrip to Albuquerque [link] [comments]

2024.03.15 13:55 RVarki If the Oscars had gender-neutral acting categories, who all would've (and should've) won the Best Lead and Supporting awards throughout the past decade?

For the sake of this exercise, let's assume that the ten nominees that got selected for Lead and Supporting, were the same as the ones from the actual awards (eventhough that's a bit unrealisitic)
2024
Best Supporting Performance
Best Lead Performance
2023
Best Supporting Performance
Best Lead Performance
2022
Best Supporting Performance
Best Lead Performance
2021
Best Supporting Performance
Best Lead Performance
2020
Best Supporting Performance
Best Lead Performance
2019
Best Supporting Performance
Best Lead Performance
2018
Best Supporting Performance
Best Lead Performance
2017
Best Supporting Performance
Best Lead Performance
2016
Best Supporting Performance
Best Lead Performance
2015
Best Supporting Performance
Best Lead Performance
submitted by RVarki to oscarrace [link] [comments]

2024.03.11 20:35 stavi11 Trans Catalina Trail in 4 Days - 3/3 to 3/6/2024

Trans Catalina Trail in 4 Days - 3/3 to 3/6/2024
I got back last week from a spectacular solo trek of the Trans Catalina Trail, this was my itinerary, along various thoughts and helpful links. This was my first real backpacking trip, the last time I slept in a tent was in 2014 on the Inca Trail in Peru, and we had porters carrying and setting up most of the gear and cooking us hot meals. I chose to err on the lighter pack side, figured if I dropped a few pounds of body weight on the trip it would be no big deal for me. It's a strenuous 4 days, but this was an incredible introduction to backpacking and I'm already itching to go back again!
Day 1: Ferry to Avalon, Avalon to Black Jack Campground (11 miles)
I took the 9:50am ferry out of Long Beach and got into Avalon around 11:15am. With sunset around 5:45pm, I knew I'd have to hustle a bit to get to camp before dark. You get your first good uphill almost immediately; it's about a 1500' climb from Avalon past Hermit Gulch Camp and up to the ridge line. From there about 7 miles of flat/rolling trail to Black Jack. I had no issue on timing as I got to Black Jack with plenty of daylight (4:30pm-ish). Black Jack is fine with chemical toilets and running water, but no ocean views like other campsites. It was a bit cold and windy at night.
Day 2: Black Jack to Airport to Little Harbor (8.5 miles)
It's a nice day; it's about 2 miles (downhill then uphill) to get to the airport, which is an opportunity for a hot meal and flush toilets. I bought a jacket after getting a bit cold the previous night. From the airport it's a nice 6 miles almost all downhill to Little Harbor campground. I saw a pack of 20ish bison off in the distance maybe 300 yards, and there was one bison hanging out right by Little Harbor. LH is a beautiful spot looking out west over the Pacific. I made the 5 minute walk over to Shark Harbor to watch the sunset.
Day 3: Little Harbor to Two Harbors (6 miles)
It's a good climb (~1200') out of Little Harbor with some incredible views looking back at the south side of the island (see pic) and as well as ahead to the north. I arrived at Two Harbors before noon, sat at a picnic table for a bit to relax and eat some trail mix, then walked over to the campground to set up my tent. TH has a well-stocked general store, a restaurant, and public toilets and showers ($2 in quarters for a 3 min 20 sec shower; there is a quarter machine in the laundry room). I took a shower and had an early dinner at the restaurant when it opened at 3pm. Campsites 1-4 are right on the ocean, but beware of the fox(es) that will raid your food. I was at site 16 just up the hill and it had a nice ocean view too.
Day 4: Two Harbors to Parsons Landing round trip (14 miles)
I couldn't get a permit for the campsites at Parsons, but I think this was a blessing in disguise. The road to Parsons was washed out from recent rains, so there was no bottled water or firewood being brought in and technically the campground was closed. I was able to stash most of my gear in TH for the day, so all I brought was water and snacks. The climb out of TH and then descent to Parsons is by far the most physically strenuous stretch of the trail, and I was really happy to do this only carrying 5 lbs instead of my full pack at around 25. I started 7:45am and got to Parsons around 11am before the rain started. I see why Parsons permits are hard to get, only 8 campsites and they are right on the beach. I got soaked from rain on the way back, but the flat and winding road back is gentle, and I was clipping off 20 minute miles or less for most of it. I got back to TH around 2:15pm, packed up, and had another meal at the restaurant before catching the 4:45pm ferry back to San Pedro.
Trail Map and Campground Maps
I had all of these downloaded on my phone. The trail is quite well marked and easy to follow, but it was good to have the map, especially for the elevation changes insert.
Gear, Food, Etc
I brought:
  • 2 person tent (rented), even though I was solo I wanted to test the size/weight in case my wife and I ever go backpacking together.
  • Sleeping bag
  • Sleeping pad
  • Camp stove / fuel / pot / spork
  • Headlamp
  • Trekking poles
  • Portable battery for phone/watch
  • Coffee mug
  • Food
    • 3 dehydrated meals from Next Mile Meals
    • Trail mix in separate ziplocs for each day
    • Quest bars
  • Water is available at all campgrounds except Parsons, so you only have to carry what you'll need for the day. I brought a full 3L bladder on the first day and found I only drank about 2L, so I reduced to 2L on future days.
​
Little Harbor
Start
Prickly pear cacti with Little Harbor in the distance
Bison at Little Harbor
Sunset at Shark Harbor
Final Mile Marker
submitted by stavi11 to socalhiking [link] [comments]

2024.02.28 04:53 Lineockon Hot Gay List for 10 You Will Love Them!

Hot Gay List for 10 You Will Love Them!
​
https://preview.redd.it/5vuq42pwy8lc1.png?width=1280&format=png&auto=webp&s=3a627190528bd16f04e2d6586e4300602cc32ea4
Want to know famous and handsome men in the gay community? Check out them in this hot gay list in the spotlight.
Perhaps when you find out that you are gay, you feel a great deal of shame. However, when you really start embracing your sexuality. You will surely realize that being yourself is the best and being gay is also very wonderful.
In this blog post, I have put together 10 of my favorite sexy gay men.

Troye Sivan

Image credit: Pitchfork
On August 7, 2013, Sivan publicly admitted to being gay via a YouTube video.
Troye Sivan Mellet (born June 5, 1995) is an Australian singer-songwriter and actor. In 2023, he released his third album, Something to Give Each Other, on October 13, . Both "Rush" and "One of Your Girls" reached the Top 40 on the UK Singles Chart. The songs "Rush" and "One of Your Girls" reached the Top 40 in the UK Singles Chart and charted on the Billboard Hot 100. Sivan received his first Grammy nomination for the song "Rush."

Omar Rudberg

Image credit: IMDb
Omar Josué Rudberg (born November 12, 1998, as Gonzalez) is a Swedish singer and actor. He is internationally known for his role as Simon Eriksson in the Netflix teen drama series Young Royals.
The second season of Young Royals premiered on Netflix in November 2022. During the season, he released the single "Simon's Song," an original song written for the show.
In June 2019, Rudberg opened up about being part of the LGBTQ+ community in an interview with Swedish LGBTQ+ magazine QX: " As a person, I'm very open-minded. I dare not put a title. It feels so damn scary. Sometimes I hang out with guys, sometimes with girls. It varies. I don't know if it's because of my age, but I'm still young. I feel lost, not in a bad way, but just lost in life." (information from Wikipedia)

Hugh Sheridan

Image credit: IMDb
Hugh Sheridan is a famous Australian actor, singer, and television presenter best known for his role as Ben Rafter in the television series Packed to the Rafters. Sheridan is a four-time winner of the Logie Award for Favorite Actor.
He was married to Venezuelan actor Rafael de la Fuente from 2009 to 2018.
On March 5, 2021, Sheridan proposed to his boyfriend, Kurt Roberts, on the opening night of the Hugh Mann Stage Show; they announced in November 2021 that they were separating.

Jim Parsons

Image credit: The Holliwood Reporter
James Joseph Parsons was born on March 24, 1973. He is an American actor. From 2007 to 2019, he played Sheldon Cooper on the CBS sitcom The Big Bang Theory.
On May 23, 2012, a New York Times article stated that Parsons is gay and has been in a relationship for the past decade. He is married to art director Todd Spivak, and in October 2013, Parsons described their relationship as "an act of love, coffee in the morning, going to work, doing laundry, taking the dog out - a regular life, boring love." Parsons and Spivak married in May 2017 in New York City.

Michael Holbrook Penniman Jr.

Image credit: IMDb
Mika was born in Beirut, Lebanon, and raised in Paris and London. He is a singer-songwriter.
In a September 2009 interview with Gay & Night, Mika commented on her sexuality, "I've never ever labeled myself. But having said that, I've never limited my life, I've never limited who I sleep with ... Call me whatever you want. Call me bisexual if you need a term for me ..."
Why he is in our hot gay list? In an August 2012 interview with Instinct magazine, the singer described himself as gay.

Lukas Gage

Image credit: IMDb
Lucas Gage was born on 5/28/1995. He has appeared in American Saboteur, White Lotus, You, and Happiness.
Hair stylist Chris Appleton confirmed his relationship with Gage on The Drew Barrymore Show. On April 5, 2023, Gage announced his engagement to Appleton. Nineteen days later, it was announced that Appleton and Gage were married. On November 13, 2023, Appleton filed for divorce from Gage, citing irreconcilable differences.

Thomas Dekker

Image credit: IMDb
Thomas Alexander Dekker was born on 12/28/1987. He is an American actor, musician, singer, director and producer. He is known for his roles as John Connor in The Terminator, Adam Conant in The Sarah Connor Chronicles, Zach in Heroes: The Sarah Connor Chronicles, John Connor in The Secret Circle, and Zach in Heroes.
Decker has stated that he was a victim of sexual molestation for much of his childhood. On July 13, 2017, Decker came out as gay and revealed that he married Canadian actor Jesse Haddock in April of that year.

Michael Urie

https://preview.redd.it/knhlcohlz8lc1.png?width=1080&format=png&auto=webp&s=8c5a5a2db96626f50fca872354408c8d33decc08
Michael Lorenzo Urie is an American actor. He is best known for his role as Mark St. James on the ABC comedy-drama series Ugly Betty. He played Bobby Kerns on the original BroadwayCast.com podcast soap opera The Curtain Rises.
In 2009, Yuri described himself as "a member of the LGBT community" on his social media. In a 2010 interview with The Advocate, he said he was in a relationship with a man and considered himself "the cool guy." That is the reason for he is in this hot gay list.

Matt Bomer

Image credit: NBC News
Matthew Staton Bomer is an American actor. He has received honors such as a Golden Globe Award and a Critics' Choice Television Award. He has also been nominated for a Primetime Emmy Award.
In this hot gay list , Pommer married Simon Halls in 2011. The marriage was not publicized through the media until 2014. In 2012, Boehmer openly acknowledged his homosexuality when he thanked the Halls and their children during the acceptance speech for the Steve Chase Humanitarian Award. He is also an LGBT rights activist.

Joshua Bassett

​
Image credit: joshuabassett.fandom
In this hot gay list, Joshua Taylor Bassett was born on December 22, 2000. He is an American actor and singer.
Bassett sings and plays piano, guitar, ukulele, bass, drums, and some saxophone. 2021 On May 10, 2021, he opened up about being a member of the LGBTQ+ community in an interview.
submitted by Lineockon to AppRealm [link] [comments]

2024.02.24 01:53 CP4-Throwaway Billboard Hot 100 1981 year end chart review (if the songs sound more late 70s or early 80s)

Disclaimer: This is my interpretation of how each song sounded like, so obviously, this is not objective.
  1. "Bette Davis Eyes" - Kim Carnes (early 80s)
  2. "Endless Love" - Diana Ross & Lionel Richie (late 70s)
  3. "Lady" - Kenny Rogers (late 70s)
  4. "(Just Like) Starting Over" - John Lennon (late 70s)
  5. "Jessie's Girl" - Rick Springfield (early 80s)
  6. "Celebration" - Kool & the Gang (late 70s)
  7. "Kiss on My List" - Hall & Oates (early 80s)
  8. "I Love a Rainy Night" - Eddie Rabbitt (mid/late 70s; exception)
  9. "9 To 5" - Dolly Parton (late 70s)
  10. "Keep on Loving You" - REO Speedwagon (late 70s)
  11. "Theme from The Greatest American Hero (Believe It or Not)" - Joey Scarbury (both)
  12. "Morning Train (Nine to Five)" - Sheena Easton (late 70s)
  13. "Being with You" - Smokey Robinson (both)
  14. "Queen of Hearts" - Juice Newton (late 70s)
  15. "Rapture" - Blondie (early 80s)
  16. "A Woman Needs Love (Just Like You Do)" - Raydio (both)
  17. "The Tide Is High" - Blondie (both)
  18. "Just the Two of Us" - Grover Washington, Jr. & Bill Withers (late 70s)
  19. "Slow Hand" - The Pointer Sisters (both)
  20. "I Love You" - Climax Blues Band (late 70s)
  21. "Woman" - John Lennon (late 70s)
  22. "Sukiyaki" - A Taste of Honey (late 70s)
  23. "The Winner Takes It All" - ABBA (late 70s)
  24. "Stars on 45 Medley" - Stars on 45 (late 70s)
  25. "Angel of the Morning" - Juice Newton (late 70s)
  26. "Love on the Rocks" - Neil Diamond (late 70s)
  27. "Every Woman in the World" - Air Supply (late 70s)
  28. "The One That You Love" - Air Supply (late 70s)
  29. "Guilty" - Barbra Streisand & Barry Gibb (late 70s)
  30. "The Best of Times" - Styx (late 70s)
  31. "Elvira" - The Oak Ridge Boys (late 70s)
  32. "Take It on the Run" - REO Speedwagon (both)
  33. "(There's) No Gettin' Over Me" - Ronnie Milsap (late 70s)
  34. "Living Inside Myself" - Gino Vannelli (both)
  35. "Woman in Love" - Barbra Streisand (late 70s)
  36. "The Boy from New York City" - The Manhattan Transfer (late 70s)
  37. "Urgent" - Foreigner (early 80s)
  38. "Passion" - Rod Stewart (both)
  39. "Lady (You Bring Me Up)" - Commodores (both)
  40. "Crying" - Don McLean (late 70s)
  41. "Hearts" - Marty Balin (late 70s)
  42. "It's My Turn" - Diana Ross (late 70s)
  43. "You Make My Dreams" - Hall & Oates (early 80s)
  44. "I Don't Need You" - Kenny Rogers (late 70s)
  45. "How 'Bout Us" - Champaign (both)
  46. "Hit Me with Your Best Shot" - Pat Benatar (early 80s)
  47. "The Breakup Song (They Don't Write 'Em)" - The Greg Kihn Band (both)
  48. "Time" - The Alan Parsons Project (late 70s)
  49. "Hungry Heart" - Bruce Springsteen (both)
  50. "Sweetheart" - Franke and the Knockouts (late 70s)
  51. "Somebody's Knockin'" - Terri Gibbs (both)
  52. "More Than I Can Say" - Leo Sayer (both)
  53. "Together" - Tierra (late 70s)
  54. "Too Much Time on My Hands" - Styx (late 70s)
  55. "What Are We Doin' in Love" - Dottie West & Kenny Rogers (late 70s)
  56. "Who's Crying Now" - Journey (both)
  57. "De Do Do Do, De Da Da Da" - The Police (both)
  58. "This Little Girl" - Gary U.S. Bonds (both)
  59. "Stop Draggin' My Heart Around" - Stevie Nicks & Tom Petty (both)
  60. "Giving It Up for Your Love" - Delbert McClinton (late 70s)
  61. "A Little in Love" - Cliff Richard (both)
  62. "America" - Neil Diamond (both)
  63. "Ain't Even Done with the Night" - John Cougar (both)
  64. "Arthur's Theme (Best That You Can Do)" - Christopher Cross (late 70s)
  65. "Another One Bites the Dust" - Queen (early 80s)
  66. "Games People Play" - The Alan Parsons Project (late 70s)
  67. "I Can't Stand It" - Eric Clapton (late 70s)
  68. "While You See a Chance" - Steve Winwood (late 70s)
  69. "Master Blaster (Jammin')" - Stevie Wonder (both)
  70. "Hello Again" - Neil Diamond (late 70s)
  71. "Don't Stand So Close to Me" - The Police (both)
  72. "Hey Nineteen" - Steely Dan (early 80s)
  73. "I Ain't Gonna Stand for It" - Stevie Wonder (late 70s)
  74. "All Those Years Ago" - George Harrison (late 70s)
  75. "Step By Step" - Eddie Rabbitt (late 70s)
  76. "The Stroke" - Billy Squier (both)
  77. "Feels So Right" - Alabama (late 70s)
  78. "Sweet Baby" - Stanley Clarke & George Duke (late 70s)
  79. "Same Old Lang Syne" - Dan Fogelberg (late 70s)
  80. "Cool Love" - Pablo Cruise (late 70s)
  81. "Hold On Tight" - Electric Light Orchestra (late 70s)
  82. "It's Now or Never" - John Schneider (both)
  83. "Treat Me Right" - Pat Benatar (early 80s)
  84. "Winning" - Santana (both)
  85. "What Kind of Fool" - Barbra Streisand & Barry Gibb (late 70s)
  86. "Watching the Wheels" - John Lennon (late 70s)
  87. "Tell It Like It Is" - Heart (late 70s)
  88. "Smoky Mountain Rain" - Ronnie Milsap (both)
  89. "I Made It Through the Rain" - Barry Manilow (late 70s)
  90. "You've Lost That Lovin' Feelin'" - Hall & Oates (late 70s)
  91. "Suddenly" - Olivia Newton-John & Cliff Richard (late 70s)
  92. "For Your Eyes Only" - Sheena Easton (late 70s)
  93. "The Beach Boys Medley" - The Beach Boys (early/mid 60s; exception)
  94. "Whip It" - Devo (early 80s)
  95. "Modern Girl" - Sheena Easton (both)
  96. "Really Wanna Know You" - Gary Wright (late 70s)
  97. "Seven Year Ache" - Rosanne Cash (both)
  98. "I'm Coming Out" - Diana Ross (late 70s)
  99. "Miss Sun" - Boz Scaggs (late 70s)
  100. "Time Is Time" - Andy Gibb (late 70s)
Here's the video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zqa0qa6-AyE
You guys were NOT kidding when y'all said that 1981 and 1982's Billboard were LIGHTYEARS different.
submitted by CP4-Throwaway to decadeology [link] [comments]

2024.02.13 03:20 Stephen0899 Meet 8 Stars of the Hot Gay List

Meet 8 Stars of the Hot Gay List
Discover some of the most charming and influential men who are part of the LGBTQ+ community, featured on the Hot Gay List. These individuals have not only captured attention for their looks but also for their significant contributions to entertainment and their impactful advocacy for LGBTQ+ visibility and rights.
Here's a quick glimpse into the lives of ten remarkable gay men who inspire many by living authentically and proudly gracing our Hot Gay List.
​
miracle box
Miracle box: Rare figures and brand-name goods Open box to win！
​
- Omar Rudberg
- Hugh Sheridan
- Jim Parsons
- Michael Holbrook Penniman Jr. (Mika)
- Lukas Gage
- Thomas Dekker
- Matt Bomer
- Joshua Bassett
​
Omar Rudberg
Swedish-Venezuelan Omar Rudberg is not only noted for his role in the Netflix series "Young Royals" but also for his evocative music. In 2019, he publicly discussed his sexual orientation, embracing the fluidity of his personal journey.
​
Hugh Sheridan
Hugh Sheridan, a Logie Award-winning Australian actor known for "Packed to the Rafters," has shared his life openly with the public, including his relationships and a brief engagement.
​
Jim Parsons
Jim Parsons, the talented American actor famous for his role as Sheldon Cooper in "The Big Bang Theory," has been happily married to Todd Spivak since 2017. He has spoken candidly about his personal life and marriage, emphasizing the beauty of everyday love.
​
Michael Holbrook Penniman Jr. (Mika)
Lebanese-born, internationally celebrated Mika has always been enigmatic about his sexuality, yet in a 2012 interview, he proudly identified as gay. Mika continues to enchant fans with his unique vocal style and catchy compositions.
​
Lukas Gage
Lukas Gage's acting in various hit shows has garnered him much attention, and his personal life has been just as newsworthy. After a whirlwind romance and marriage with Chris Appleton, the two parted ways, reinforcing the notion that life and love can be unpredictable.
​
Thomas Dekker
Thomas Dekker, an American actor and musician, candidly shared his experiences as a survivor of childhood sexual abuse. He has also been open about his marriage to Canadian actor Jesse Haddock, with whom he tied the knot in 2017.
​
Matt Bomer
Award-winning actor Matt Bomer is an esteemed advocate for LGBTQ+ rights. His marriage to Simon Halls, along with his heartfelt coming out story, showcase his dedication to living openly and advocating for the community.
​
Joshua Bassett
The young multi-instrumentalist and actor Joshua Bassett spoke about his LGBTQ+ identity in 2021, resonating with fans and contributing to a broader discourse of acceptance and pride.
​
Each of these men has contributed to greater visibility and understanding within the LGBTQ+ community through their art and personal stories. They are not just icons of gay pride but representatives of the rich diversity and strength found in living authentically.
submitted by Stephen0899 to AmazingFact [link] [comments]

2024.01.20 21:02 cookinjohn A few of my favorite things

A few of my favorite things
Any mongers out there? What does your scale sheet look like?
submitted by cookinjohn to Cheese [link] [comments]

2024.01.11 18:22 clearliquidclearjar TALLAHASSEE WEEKLY EVENTS, 1/11 – 1/17

Events are listed by the day. Events that happen every week appear first, one time stuff after that. If you have anything you’d like people to know about, comment here or message me and I’ll add it in. If you’d like further info about any of the events, look it up! I usually don’t have any extra to add.
Large Scale, Ongoing, and Multi-Day Events
Local Running, Walking, and Biking Info: https://troubleafoot.blogspot.com/
Guided Paddling Outings all around the area: https://www.facebook.com/hsmithoutdoors
Tallahassee Film Society Showings: https://www.tallahasseefilms.com/tickets/
Live Theater:
OutdooFarmer’s Markets:
THURSDAY, 1/11
  • Blue Tavern: Kevin Whoo. 5pm
  • The Sound Bar: The Sound Bar's Food Truck Thursday featuring Big Carey Johnson. 6:30pm
  • Opperman Music Hall: Jesse Cook. $50
  • All Saints Art Station: “Starving Artist” Talent Showcase Featuring Colby Scheib. 8pm
  • Fire Bettys: Marvel Years with special guest PHYPHR and support from Side Trak’d and CRISP. 9pm/18+
FRIDAY, 1/12
  • Blue Tavern: Happy Hour. 5pm
  • Lake Tribe Brewing: Flannel Fridays with Live Music. 6pm
  • Hobbit West: Friday Night Dart Tournament. Anyone can Enter! Sign ups at 7:30, Darts fly at 8:00/$10 entry fee
  • Ouzts Too: Karaoke with DJ Nathan. Best karaoke DJ in town. 8pm
  • Just One More: Karaoke with DJ Rah. 9pm-11pm/21+
  • 926: The Hot Friday Night Party and Drag Show. 9pm/$5/18+
  • Blue Tavern: Two Clever. 5pm
  • Lake Tribe Brewing: One Sun Band. 5:30pm
  • Sound Bar: Conor Churchill followed by The Good News. 6pm
  • House of Music: Keal Franklin. 7pm
  • American Legion Hall: Damon Fowler. * Tampa’s Damon Fowler, a masterful singer, guitar player and songwriter, has absorbed the best of and furthered the work of the region’s definitive artists. A hard driving troubadour, his music is steeped with soul and representative of the many styles that make up the roots of American music. He has gained the respect of his peers given his featured slot in Butch Truck’s Freight Train band and his side gig as guitarist in the Dickey Betts Band. Critics have compared Fowler’s guitar work to Johnny Winter and Jeff Beck, while his slide guitar is reminiscent of the late Duane Allman. Fowler can play fiery guitar runs with the best of them, and his lyrical work on lap steel and dobro makes him a stand out performer among the legions of guitar heroes.* 7pm
  • The Getaway Grille and Bar: Billy Rigsby Band. 7pm
  • All Saints Art Station: 90s Grunge Show with Temple of the Cat. * Do you like Grunge music?…Well on January 12th at All Saints Art Station/City Dogs Café, TEMPLE of the CAT will be taking us down memory lane with a live performance of some 90’s Grunge classics Temple of the Cat is a 90s- 2000s grunge and rock cover band. Consisting of Steve Whitten, of Ember Fading, Seve Barrineau, of Ember Fading, Redrawn, and Tragic, Nick Ossi, of Copyright Claim and Medians, and Hunter Daws, of Redshirt Freshman, Upside Avenue, and has been featured on a George Clinton album. Come out for a nostalgic night of Pearl Jam, Sound Garden, Smashing Pumpkins, and many more!* 8pm
  • The Bark: Kare (formerly Animal 19), Monsoon, Tidepools, and Degenerate State. 8pm
  • 1617 Atkamire Dr: Back to 96 with Psycho Tropical, Sleep John B, Solomon Hill, and Curly Q. 8pm
  • Blue Tavern: Songwriters in the Round with Tracy Horenbien, Steven Ritter, and Frank Graham. 8pm
  • Stix: The Mae West Band. 9pm
  • Dukes and Dotties: Upside Avenue. 9pm
SATURDAY, 1/13
  • Brinkley Glen Park: Invasive Plant Removal. Join Master Gardener Volunteers at this weekly invasive plant removal event. This is a great way to learn to ID our invasive plant species and how to remove them. We recommend wearing long pants and sleeves, closed-toed shoes, gloves, a hat and mosquito spray. Bring gardening tools such as hand clippers, loppers, trowels, etc. if you have them. We are removing coral ardisia bushes and berries, nandina, tung trees, Tradescantia flumenensis, cat's claw vine, winged yam, Japanese climbing fern, skunkvine and more. Directions: The best way to get there is to take Meridian Rd to Waverly Rd, go to the next intersection and turn left onto Abbotsford Way, then turn left at the next road called Woodside Dr. At the stop sign turn left onto Lothian. Lothian ends in a cul-de-sac and there is a sign that says Brinkley Glen Park. 8:30am-11:30am
  • Gamescape: Saturday Gaming. Gamescape has relocated from Railroad Square to the Huntington Oaks Plaza (Suite 302, next to the Library) at N Monroe St and Fred George Rd. Open gaming tables are available. Noon-6pm
  • Blue Tavern: Old Time Jam. 4pm
  • Duke’s and Dottie’s: Line Dancing Plus Lessons. 7pm/21+
  • Bird’s Oyster Shack: Laughterday Night Fever. * Join us every Saturday at Bird's Aphrodisiac Oyster Shack for a free comedy show!* 8:30pm
  • The Plant: Art & Supplies Sale to benefit the collaboration of Square Mug and The Plant. 9am
  • N FL Fairgrounds: Take Me Home Dog Adoption Event. 10am-2pm
  • Feeling Art Collective (RR Sq): Absolute Beginners Acrylic Painting. * Happy New Year Facebook folks! Let's talks resolutions. It's one of mine to teach not one but TWO classes per month at Feeling Art Collective!!! But more about that later. I would like to offer you guys a chance to flex your creative muscles and take my Absolute Beginners Acrylic Painting class Saturday, January 13th at 10 am. I like to specialize in encouraging students to develop their own style as opposed to being a copy of someone else. It's great for you budding artists as well as those of you who have never painted before since I cater to any skill level. I give individualized instruction and all materials are supplied and you walk away with a finished painting. So...make your New Year's Resolution to have fun, learn and be creative!* 10am-Noon
  • Pedro’s: Sonic Boom. 6pm
  • Lake Tribe: Forge Brothers. 6pm
  • The Getaway Grille and Bar: Saturday Night Bikes and Trikes Featuring Big Poppa and The Shuffle Brothers. 7pm
  • Blue Tavern: Douce Ambiance with Corine Samwel. 7pm
  • Jam House (216 Westminster Dr): Danitza, Brushback, Sleep John B, and Cloud Storage. 7pm
  • Oyster City Brewing Company: Mechanical Lincoln. 7pm
  • Island Wings: Jett City Band. 7pm
  • Tallahassee Senior Center: Tally Contra Dance with Rachel Flemming and The Runaway Biscuits. 7:15pm
  • Vino Beano: Jazz Night with Michael Bakan & The Indefatigables. 8pm
  • The Sound Bar: Oh Man And How. 8pm
  • The Bark: Goth Night! featuring live music from Academy Order and Caustic Bats. 8pm
  • House of Music: Tinsley Ellis: Acoustic Songs & Stories. 8pm
  • 926: Kanise with Madwoman, On The Edge, and Televised. 8:30pm
  • Fire Bettys: The Annie Dukes. 9pm/18+
  • Blue Tavern: Richie Summa Trio. 9pm
SUNDAY, 1/14
  • Bicycle House: Sunday Ride. Ride at 10:30 AM from Bicycle House. We will ride the Cascades trail to the St Marks trail and down to Wakulla station and return, about 31 miles. Ride speed is 12 to 14 mph, with periodic regroups. Vernon Bailey is the ride leader. Vernon is a new CCC member who’s been biking for 50 years enjoys riding with small groups and weekend touring. 10am
  • Halisi Africa: Soulful Sundays. Join us for Motherland Brunch at Halisi Africa. We'll be serving our brunch special including an appetizer, main course, a sweet, and our signature African mimosas we call ukwaju. The event will also feature an art exhibition by Christopher Barnhart and live entertainment by local artists. 11am
  • Flippin’ Great Pinball: $25 Sunday Funday. Every Sunday spend a fun-filled time with the family for only $25 plus tax at the arcade! Our normal all-day family admission of $34.99 is just $25 and that includes up to a family of 6 (two adults and four kids). Experience affordable family fun that everyone will enjoy. Noon-8pm
  • E Peck Greene Park (Behind the LeRoy Collins Library): Food Not Bombs Free Mealshare. We offer free vegetarian/vegan food, water, coffee, personal care & hygiene products, bus passes, and clothing when we have some available to those in need. Contact foodnotbombstally@gmail.com to find out about getting involved. Noon-2pm
  • LeRoy Collins Library: Tallahassee Go Club Meetings. Come play the captivating ancient game of Go, also known as Baduk, with some friendly games and discussions. Beginners welcome. Visit https://www.tallahasseegoclub.com for more information. 1pm
  • Gamescape: Pokémon League. Come learn, play, and trade with the Pokémon Trading Card Game and the Pokémon video games! We LOVE seeing new players, so come learn how to play! We play both the Trading Card Game and the Video Game casually and competitively. The store offers lots of different seating arrangements to meet our group's needs, as well as food, drinks, and Pokémon products for purchase. We are also hold regular, officially sanctioned tournaments for Pokémon Trading Card Game and Video Game Competitions! 2-4pm
  • The Plant: Open Jam. All instruments, all players welcome. 5pm-9pm
  • Pedro’s: Mariachi Clasico. 6pm
  • Fermentation Lounge: Open Mic Night Hosted by Conor Churchill. 7pm
  • Oyster City Brewing: Comedy Night. Come have some laughs with us on Sunday nights! If you are interested in participating in the show, reach out to therealsleepypfloyd@gmail.com 7:30pm
  • 926: Ahren Belisle (stand-up comedy) with Michael Glatzmaier and John Strickland. 7pm
  • Purple House Concerts (2643 Lucerne Dr): Mary Bragg “Queen of Americana”. 6:30pm/$25
  • The Sound Bar: Rabbit in Red, The Randys & The Heebie-Jeebies. 8pm
MONDAY, 1/15
  • Just One More: Bingo. 5pm-6:30pm
  • Finnegan’s Wake: Midtown Market Monday. Every Monday from 5pm - 9pm, discover a world of local talent selling art, jewelry, crochet, vintage clothing, and more. This is the beginning of a new weekly tradition, and we're thrilled to have you as part of the journey. Grab a drink, explore our cool vendor tables, enjoy free swag, and savor delicious dinner options while you help us build something amazing. Let's make Mondays memorable together! 5pm-9pm
  • The Getaway Grille and Bar: Margarita Monday, Open-Mic Night hosted by The Saltwater Cowboy. 5:30pm-8pm
  • American Legion Hall: Cha Cha - Weekly Lessons. 6:15pm/$5
  • Hangar 38: Bingo. 6:45pm
  • Vino Beano: Tipsy Trivia. 7pm
TUESDAY, 1/16
  • Blue Tavern: Happy Hour. 5pm
  • The Getaway Grille: Tuesday Night Bikes and Trikes. 6pm
  • Oyster City Brewing Company: Tuesday Night Beer-go! 6pm
  • Crafty Crab: BOOMIN' Karaoke. 7pm
  • Gamescape: Hobby Night. Slay the grey together! Join your fellow gamers and turn your pile of grey miniatures into a battle ready army. Need some painting tips? Feel free to ask at hobby night. You can bring any miniature for any game to paint. 7pm
  • Ology Midtown: Jazz Jam Sessions. 7pm
  • Island Wings: Trivia. 7pm
  • House of Music: Tuesday Trivia & Karaoke. 7pm
  • American Legion Hall: Tallahassee Swing Band Tuesday Night Dance. 7:30pm
  • Burrito Boarder: Karaoke with DJ Roldus. 8pm
  • Poor Pauls: Trivia. 8pm/21+
  • Blue Tavern: Bluesday Tuesday with Bill Ricci. Every Tuesday is Blues Day @ the Blue Tavern and Blues Meets Girl is a Tallahassee favorite. This perfect, intimate venue provides just what you need for both a mid-week break and authentic blues music experience. 8pm/$5
  • 4th Quarter: Professor Jim's Tuesday Night Trivia. Popular for a reason! 8pm
  • Argonaut Coffee: Trivia Tuesday. 8pm
  • The Sound Bar: Karaoke. 8pm
  • Fire Betty’s: Open Mic Comedy Night. 8pm/21+
  • 926: Tacos and Trivia. 9pm
WEDNESDAY, 1/17
  • Sugar and Spice Tally: Game Night. Join us every Wednesday Night for community game night. Bring your own or use ours! Let me know if you need to reserve space for a large group. Free to attend! 5pm
  • Tara Angel’s Magic: D&D Experience - Adult (18+) Group. Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition - Candlekeep Mysteries. A one-shot is a D&D event that starts and finishes in the same session, typically lasting 3 - 4 hours. We have pre-generated characters for players to choose from. WHAT TO BRING: Pencils, Dice (can be purchased in store), Mask (encouraged for unvaccinated participants), Enthusiasm! Please sign up in advance to reserve a spot in this campaign. Tickets can be purchased in-store, over the phone, or on the website. For more information, please email sales@taraangelsmagic.com, or call: (850) 878-4555 6pm-9pm
  • Goodwood: Wonderful Wednesday. 6pm/$5
  • Level 8 Rooftop Lounge: Trivia. 6pm
  • The Great Games Library: Open Game Night. 6pm/free
  • American Legion Hall: Sue Boyd Country Western and More Dance Class. Session 2 - Beginner 6:30 to 7:45 pm What: East Coast Swing and Waltz. Cost: $8.00 per person. Wear comfortable shoes you can turn in. 7:45 to 8:15 - Practice dance with paid admission. 8:15 to 9:30: Intermediate - 2 Step and WCS. $8.00 per person or $13.00 for both classes. Vaccines are required. Face masks are optional. Changing partners is optional. 6:30pm
  • Perry Lynn’s Smokehouse in Quincy: Wed Night Open Mic w/ Steven Ritter and Friends. 6:30pm
  • Hangar 38: Trivia. 6:45pm
  • Oyster City Brewing Tallahassee: Trivia. Teams up to 6 players for three rounds with 10 questions and a tie breaker each round. Winners are by round so don’t worry if you need to come late or can’t stay the whole time! Prizes include a round of beer, a 6 pack and a gift card! 7pm
  • Proof: Trivia. 7pm
  • Vino Beano: Wine Bingo. 7pm
  • Fermentation Lounge: Trivia. 7pm
  • Blue Tavern: Wednesday Open Mic with Doc Russell. The open mic night that has run continuously for almost 20 years, once housed at the Warehouse, lives on at the Blue Tavern. Doc Russell continues as the host with the most. Sign up starts at 7:45pm/free to attend
  • House of Music: Bar Bingo! Free to Play & Late Night Karaoke. 7pm
  • Fire Betty’s: Karaoke! 8pm/21+/free
  • Dukes and Dotties: College Night and Line Dancing Lessons. 8pm
  • The Sound Bar: Open Mic Night. 8pm
  • Waterworks: Karaoke. 8pm
  • South Station: Summer Movie Nights. 8:30pm/free
  • The Bark: Karaoke with DJ Nathan. Best karaoke DJ in town. 9pm
  • Peppers: Karaoke. 9pm
  • 926: Dragged Out Wednesday. 10pm
  • Blue Tavern: Happy Hour Stories with Tellemtall. * TellemTall tales are a blend of fact and fiction about growing up in Florida from the mid-fifties to the present. A former 7th grade science teacher and longtime environmental educator, Eric Hoeppner or TellemTall, weaves tales from his childhood, days as a teacher, and even as a 19th century camp cook. Hoeppner’s travels have found him telling stories to anyone that will listen: at campgrounds on the Blue Ridge Parkway, Great Smokey Mountain Institute at Tremont, under the Florida oaks at the Florida Folk Festival, at The Great Florida Cattle Drive, Merritt Island National Wildlife Refuge, Barberville Festival, Will McLean Festival and the Patrick Smith Days in Holopaw. Join us for some great tales and to learn what it was like to grow up in natural Florida. Guitarist Brett Wellman (Stone Cold Blues Band) will accompany Eric with some tunes to fit the mood.* 5pm
  • Goodwood: Wonderful Wednesdays with Fried Turkeys. 6pm/$5
submitted by clearliquidclearjar to Tallahassee [link] [comments]

2023.12.08 14:17 lpmv2407 Lots of things happening this weekend...

Lots of things happening this weekend... submitted by lpmv2407 to Martinsville_VA [link] [comments]

2023.11.22 23:30 RossDaWarboss [F] Place of Named Stones

Summary: A squad of Absolver Space Marines who are sent by the Inquisition to capture a possible rogue psyker come to realizer that the psyker has, completely by accident, come to worship the Emperor of Mankind.
“We’ve got the angles of approach all laid out, then?” said Sergeant Loren, his white carapace armor shining in the sun. He could feel the heat even now—doubtless it would have scorched the skin of a normal mortal. “Affirmative, Sergeant Loren. The hostiles are southwest of our current location; the target is located in the area marked Hut Five on your data-slate.” Loren looked at the data-slate in his hand. It showed a bird’s eye view of the town of M’kalla, a collection of small huts made of earthen clay. The symbol of Loren’s Chapter, the red chalice and white aquila of the Absolvers, was placed in the top left of the screen to symbolize his team’s current location. One of the huts near the edge of the town was labeled as Hut 5. “I see it. Any one in the house with the target?” There was a pause, then the voice of Scout Lair crackled through the vox once more. “We’ve confirmed that there’s a woman there with the target. It seems to be her house that he’s staying in” Loren scowled. An Absolver was committed to serve the God-Emperor in any way He so chose until his dying breath, of course: however, there was no mention of this woman in the briefing given by the Inquisition agent. “Fine; if the woman proves to be an obstacle to us, then we eliminate her. Otherwise, we’re to focus solely on extracting the target.” “Understood, Captain.” The vox cut off. Loren looked towards the town. He used his helmet’s visor to zoom in on the group of hostiles Lair had mentioned. Their skin was cracked and blistered, blood oozing out of deep gashes in their skin. All went barefoot through the scorching sand—some even went naked. Even from this distance Loren could see their wide eyes bouncing in their skulls, the smiles stretched across their faces with trembling tightness. The madness of the warp He pinged Lair over the vox. “Engage now, soldier. Minus-seven seconds until hostiles return to the town.” “Yes, sir.” It wasn’t the shout of a new recruit—these were Scouts, and Absolver Scouts at that, some of the greatest of the Emperor’s warriors. They knew that any errant sound could be the difference between life and death. Loren didn’t smile much—it was not a action for an Astartes—but the pride he felt for his men lent him a certain lightness in his hearts. His data-slate showed the image from Scout Lair’s helmet as he and the five other scouts stole quickly through the alleyways of the town. There were strange markings on the houses, made in what appeared to Loren to be blood. As Lair and his team approached Hut Five, Loren noted that the house was one of the only ones he had seen so far that did not bear these markings. Lair looked left and right, moving his team with hand signals to either side of the door. Then he put his hand up to the door and pushed against it, stepping back as he did and raising his bolter. The room was too dark at first. There was a sound that Loren identified as a child crying. Images became clearer in the gloom. The crying child was small, perhaps five years old, and was in the tight embrace of a pale redheaded woman wearing a threadbare dress of plain brown cloth. “Remain where you are, civilian,” said Lair, keeping his gun on her. Another member of his squad took his place on guard as Lair turned towards the only item of furniture in the otherwise barren room: a square wooden table with two chairs. One was knocked over to the floor; the other contained the target. The target was, to Loren’s eyes, quite unassuming. His skin was dark brown, his hair white and long. His eyes were wide and bright green, looking calmly at Lair. The way he looked, it was almost as if the man could see Loren through the visor link. “Hello. You are here to take me?” said the man. His voice was deep and sonorous, a booming thrumming noise in the small space. “You are to be taken to his Imperial Majesty’s Inquisitors for examination. They have deemed you to be a dangerous psyker, and have been polluting the minds of these civilians.” Lair’s head nodded towards the target. “Primus?” “Yes, Scout Sergeant.” Primus appeared next to Lair at the side of the visor’s screen.” “Take the target into custody. Commander Loren?” “Yes, Lair.” “Confirming that this is the target in question, and we have him in hand. What is the status of the hostiles, sir?” Loren disengaged from Lair’s visor view and surveyed the town again. The hostiles were clustered around the center of the town. They were piling up branches and broken furniture in a pile, some cackling madly as they did so. “Negative, Lair. Hostiles are blocking the extraction point. Hold for a few minutes.” “Understood, sir.” Loren turned to his left and tapped his second-in-command, Riser. “Riser, we’re engaging the enemy. Riser nodded. He was a man of few words, having had his throat ripped out by a Khornate Berserker a few months ago on Sala Prime. The throat had been healed completely by the apothecary, but Riser had not spoken again. Loren wondered if it were possible for him to go to some sort of counseling. Perhaps the parson? But their parson was a doddering fool, barely able to keep his eyes open. He took another look at the hostiles. They were slicing their wrists and screaming with frenzied joy as their blood splashed onto their makeshift funeral pyre. “Riser, engage,” said Loren as he pulled out his own bolter and loaded it. Riser holstered his large bolter rifle and sighted along it. There was a second of silence, then two. After the third, Loren turned to Riser and said, “Riser, that was an order—” Riser was still sighting along the rifle, but pointed one finger out towards the town. Loren followed it and saw the familiar flash of white armor. What in the Emperor’s name… Loren engaged Lair’s visor view to see the squad rushing down the street. There was a figure running ahead them—an older man, with tanned skin and white hair. It couldn’t be, thought Loren. How could they have lost custody of the target? They were in the room with the old man! Damn psyker tricks!” “Lair! What happened here!” “When we heard the hostiles, the target started shouting something and Primus—we ran after him—mission parameters to change.” Lair’s vox was cutting in and out. “Damnit,” growled Loren. It was always something with the cursed Gilead system. He turned to his battle-brothers behind him. “Change of plan, men! We’re to exterminate these hostiles! Remember—keep the target alive! He’s wanted by the Inquisition!” He sent a pict to his soldiers’s vis-cams so that they could identify the target. Loren pulled out his bolter as the crowd started to turn towards his squad and fired. A bolter round span through the head of one of the gibbering lunatics and it exploded like rotting fruit. The rest of the heretics turned and screamed like feral beasts, running at them with their weapons. Most of them had simple farming implements and were quickly cut down, but Loren saw that a few others had slipped into the houses. Las-shots from the windows confirmed his suspicions. Loren and his men decreased their speed and started to fire into the buildings. The las-shot rounds scorched their armor but the Astartes kept moving on undaunted. Riser fired a round from his large bolter rifle and it hit a wall directly, crumbling it around the screaming cultists. Loren could sense an increase in heat. A fire’s started, he thought, and then searched for Lair and the Scouts. If they had been trapped in the fire while searching for the target, he’d be down several good men with a slim to none chance of replacement. Loren spotted the flame. It was spread in a large circle, consuming the small houses nearby. The flame reached twenty feet vertically, the flames twisting and scorching. Loren chimed in his vox. “Scout Lair! Report status!” he shouted as he continued firing at the cultists, now pouring out of the windows of the flaming houses and running directly into the hail of bolter fire. “Sergeant Loren, we…we are safe. We have Primus with us—he’s in an unconscious state, sir. We’re in the center of the flame but we’re unharmed. The target—” Loren looked out as he saw, to his surprise, the target walking through the fire, completely unharmed. “Stop right now!” he shouted, pointing his bolter rifle directly at the man. The old man seemingly ignored him. He placed out a hand and a gout of flame shot from his palm as if he was holding a promethium flamer. The flames engulfed a cultist who had leapt screaming at the target. The cultist fell over at the target’s feet, and the old man began shouting in a local dialect that Loren was unfamiliar with. Loren cued the translator in his helm to cycle through the local Gilead system languages until they found a match and held up his arm to order the squad to cease fire. He moved up slowly, pistol still drawn and pointing at the target. “Citizen! I am Sergeant Loren, of the Absolvers Space Marine legion. You have been ordered to be presented to the Inquisition for correction, as you have the taint of Warp among you. Cooperate fully and you will not be destroyed.” The man was not looking at Loren, and seemed to not hear his words. He was continuing to shout at the charred remains of the cultists beneath him, Loren heard the words, “You are sinners against the one Truth! The one leader! He has weighed you in the balance and found you wanting! I curse your souls—“ Loren pressed two gauntleted fingers against a pressure point on the man’s neck. His tirade cut off suddenly and the old man slumped to the ground.
"Is he awake?" asked Loren of Apothecary Jordan “I believe so,” replied Jordan, looking back into the med room through a view port. “Will you need me with you?" Loren shook his head. “No need, Jordan. I will speak to the target myself.” Jordan nodded and walked down the hall towards the room where Primus was being kept. Loren turned away and walked into the room with the target. The old man was sitting up now, and staring calmly at Loren. He did not seem afraid, but rather very calm. Loren wondered if this was a good idea, talking to this psyker alone: he was an Astartes, loyal and true, but had not the Warmaster Horus been a loyal son of the Emperor himself? Even the most loyal could be corrupted by the forces of Chaos. He steadied himself by studying the sacred name tattooed on his knuckles, repeating it in his head like a mantra. The Absolvers had ten thousand names they deemed sacred: Loren had chosen the name Malcador, as in the legendary advisor to the Emperor Malcador the Sigillite. He repeated the name in his head to steal himself from the psyker’s machinations. “Wake, slave of Chaos,” said Loren slowly. The man blinked once, twice. He seemed confused and spoke with trepidation in his own language. “Chaos? Is that what the others serve?” “Yes, you and your kind are servants of the Ruinous Powers. Do you deny this?” Loren expected the man to fully confess. After all, those who served the Ruinous Powers were often eager to do so. But the old man instead shook his head furiously. “I serve none of their gods,” he said vehemently. “I serve my own—the one, true Lord.” He studied Loren. “You look like him. Do you serve him too?” Loren approached closer. “What do you mean your Lord looks like me? Describe him.” The old man clasped his hands and bowed. With eyes closed, he said, “He is a large being, cloaked in gold and ruby. His hair is black as the space between stars, His eyes of pure white like the sun’s flame. He stands in glory, taller than your kind, even. He—“ “Enough,” barked Loren. He had heard enough.“Stay in silence. You will be judged by the Inquisitors, and your heresy will be cleansed from this world.” Loren’s mouth felt raspy and dry as he spoke. “Do you refuse the Emperor? Do you refuse the faith of the Master of Mankind?” The old man nodded. “My Lord spoke of such a thing: that my faith would be tested. He told me to preach His word, until His children would come onto this land. Although I thought that you were those that my Lord had spoke of…I fear I may have been mistaken.” As he said this, Loren heard a shout from down the hall. Primus, he thought bitterly to himself. He turned to silence the madman— —and found that he had vanished from his bed, the door closing behind Loren. As quick as he could Loren bolted down the hall. The door to Primus’s room shattered to pieces as he ran in, bolter raised. The first he saw was Jordan, in a corner of the room with hands clasped in prayer. He stared at the old man, who had his hand on Primus’s brow. Primus was seizing, his body thrashing in the bed as a glow seemed, to Loren, to emit from the old man’s hands. “Nolite timere,” said the man in High Gothic, “haec enim dicit Dominus Deus hominis non deficient hydriae farinae et non deficient vasa olei usque ad diem quo Dominus pluit super terram.” Then, in Low Gothic, he added; “So is your spirit like the jars of oil and flour; if you believe in your Lord, He will not cause your spirit to ebb, but rather continue, until the rains of His mercy wash over us.” Loren raised his bolter and pointed it at the target. “Step away from him, chaos scum! He—“ He paused mid-sentence as Primus gasped and stilled. His twin hearts began to beat normally. The old man looked at him and raised his hands. “My name is Elijah, and I am no servant of Darkness,” he said in a firm voice. “How do you know High Gothic, then? Did you learn it from a Chaos priest?” Elijah appeared confused. “What is…High Gothic?” “What you were speaking, man! Don’t tell me—“ “I merely said what my Lord told me to say. He gave the words and I said them to your soldier.” Loren stared at the old man. His finger curled around the trigger of his bolter. “This madness ends now, and damn what the Inquisition says!” he barked. He tensed and Elijah’s eyes closed— “Sir! Captain Loren!” Loren whipped around. The voice had come from behind him. Lair was standing in the doorway in full armor. “What is it, Lair?” “The natives are coming in force! They’re looking for him,” he said, pointing to Elijah, “and I don’t think it’s to make sure he’s been treated well.” Loren looked back at Elijah. Primus stirred and his eyes opened; he looked up at Elijah and to Loren’s astonishment smiled up at the old man. “Thank you, sir” he said weakly to the man. “It was not my doing. It was the Lord, He who is King Eternal--” Loren cursed under his breath and reached out. His hand covered Elijah whole left shoulder up to his neck.”Enough of this. Come on,” he said, leading Elijah forcefully out of the room and down the corridor. Loren dragged Elijah by the scruff of his neck up to the parapet. He threw Elijah down at his feet and stared out over the ledge of the base’s walls. The horde of heretics was massive. “Kill him! Hurt him! Break him!” they cried. Loren was impassive as he surveyed them. He wore the full armor of his chapter, helmet and all, and he allowed himself a satisfied grin when he saw some cowardly Chaos cultists turn and flee in terror at the sight. Elijah looked up at him. Loren noted that there was not hatred in his eyes. It seemed more like pity to him, and the thought made Loren furious. He wanted to pull out his bolt pistol and end this feeble infidel’s life as soon as possible. Elijah spoke and said, “My Lord has spoken to me, Captain Loren. He has told me that you are not an evil man, and would not kill without due cause.” As Loren stood still in shock the old man stood up and brushed the dust off of his black robe. “I know you want to kill me—you are loyal, brave and true. My Lord, the one true Lord, has told me that you and the rest of his children need proof of my devotion. I will give it to you.” He pointed a bony finger at the crowd and began shouting at the heretics. “Bring him out! The false one that you serve! Bring him to me, and we will go to the place of named stones together!” A bolter round whistled past Loren’s head. He turned to follow the path of the shot, and the beating of his twin hearts grew louder in his head. Behind the mob of heretics were astartes in dark purple. They saw him and began to cackle in shrill and mocking tones. “Bring us the brittle old fool, coward! Leave your walls, we want to play!” The Emperor’s Children were here. Loren began to fire at them. Bolter rounds slammed into the sand around the chaos Astartes as if his shots were being blocked by a Rosarius. “He is protecting them,” said Elijah mournfully. “Who? Your false God?” said Loren. Elijah shook his head and pointed down. A man was walking out. He was mortal, but Loren could see that beneath the tribal paint and ritual scarring the mutations of the Warp were starting to play out on the heretic’s body. He was young, in his twenties perhaps, and he screeched with laughter when he saw Elijah. “I accept your challenge, old fool! We will meet at the place of named stones at dawn, and I will show you the power of the Lovely One.” Elijah turned and walked away at that. Loren ordered his men to fire into the hordes of Chaos cultists. Although he was satisfied to see a few of them broke into explosions of blood at the touch of a bolter round he knew that tomorrow would see something much worse. Loren kept the auspex trained on Elijah as he walked down from the cliffs where the rest of the Absolver squad was waiting. Riser trained his bolt-rifle a few paces ahead of Elijah as he walked up to meet the Chaos warlock in the center of this plateau. Loren had argued against doing this, of course. Had strongly urged that Elijah be sent to the Inquisition at once, and damn the utterances of some foul Warp-tainted cultists. Jordan suggested that he take a rest, and that if in the morning he still felt this way he could do it with the knowledge that he thought of all the possibilities. He had worked most of it out on his own, and had gone out to take a walk in the cool air. As he walked past the tents, he heard a laugh from a nearby campfire. He looked briefly, and was about to carry on, but… But then he stopped and looked back. He was right— the man laughing was indeed Riser, cracking jokes with none else but Elijah. The Astartes’ red beard shook like a frightened tarantula as he bellowed and slapped his massive knee. Elijah kept talking calmly as if the story was something of no importance. Loren stormed up to Riser. He had never seen Riser like this, laughing and joking. Part of him was furious, but he was also surprised, and a bit heartened to see Riser with a pleasant expression on his scarred face. Riser sat up and saluted as Loren approached. “Evening sir! Just watching the captive. He’s got good jokes, sir: I showed him Inquisitor Laird and the target said that he looked like he’d kissed the inside of a goat’s ass!” He laughed and slapped his knee. “I meant no disrespect,” said Elijah with a slight smile on his face. “I merely spoke the truth. I am sure his puckered face does not betray a diseased heart.” “Riser, why are you speaking to the target?” hissed Loren. Riser shrugged. “I’m sorry, Captain, but…the Emperor seems to be with him.” “Does he now? Does his comparisons to goat anuses make you think he is blessed by the Emperor’s grace?” “I can’t explain it fully, sir. But he does not seem like a warp-tainted heretic to me.” He gestured to Elijah who was eating a crust of bread in silence. "What things seem to be is not the purview of us Astartes, son.” Loren sighed and gestured to Elijah. “I thought I had convinced myself of the right path to take, but now I’m once again facing doubt.” Riser nodded. When he spoke again he was quiet, almost whispering. “He told me that his Lord knew about my pain, and was sorry for me. He said it was not my fault that Battle-Brother Stephen perished to the swarm.” Loren started. “Did you tell Elijah any of this?” Riser shook his head. “No, sir. And I kept quiet, didn’t say anything to show that it meant anything to me, just in case it is some Chaos hell-spawn we’re dealing with—wouldn’t want to give it any satisfaction. Sir, I have an idea.” “What’s that?” “Well, let us say that the target is a heretic, and that this test tomorrow morning is merely a ploy to be received by the Chaotic Powers. Maybe we can make that work in our favor as well.” Riser gestured with a cock of his head towards a nearby tent. Loren glanced inside the tent through the open door-flap: inside he could see several packs of melta grenades waiting inside. “Ah. A wise idea, Riser.” So now the Absolver marine squad was waiting on the ridge as Elijah walked up to a large stone circle in the middle of the plain with several melta grenades strapped to his chest, fuses set to blow on Loren’s mark. As they watched the waiting crowd of heretics split to reveal the other Chaos prophet from before. He was dressed this time; a long red robe trailed down to the ground, with a golden crown perched on his head covered in so many multicolored gems that when the light caught it it radiated a blinding light. A veil of red pearls masked the twisted king’s face. Loren nodded once to Lair. The vox-caster and pict-relay attached to Elijah started up on a small screen inside Loren’s helmet. From Elijah’s point of view he could see more of the king’s face: his smile was a horrible rictus, almost reaching his ears. “So,” said the king in a vile susurration that made even the vox-caster’s audio crackle, “is it really you, you fiend? You have started a lot of trouble, you know.” “You are the troublemaker here, B’hab, as well as the only fiend I am aware of” Elijah replied calmly. Loren could not see Elijah’s face through the pict-screen as the relay was attached to his head. “You and your family are the instigators of the troubles that have befallen this planet. You have refused to obey the Lord of Mankind, the True Teacher and Master of us all, and have instead fallen to the worship of the Lovely One and her vile depredations.” B’hab gestured to either side of him at the gathered crowd. “I have summoned all my court high court of Lassus to join me here at the place of named stones. Four hundred and fifty prophets of the Lovely One, and the four Sentinels of Jezebal the Beautiful One Themselves.” He gestured to the group of Emperor’s Children Astartes who chortled hysterically. Elijah stood in front of the crowd without fear and stretched out his arms. “How much longer will you waver, hobbling between two beliefs? If the Master of Mankind is God, then follow Him! But if this Lovely One is the true God, then you should follow them without delay!” The crowd of heretics, Loren noted, were for the most part completely silent at this. They stood patiently waiting. ` Then Elijah said to them, “I am the only prophet of the Lord of Man left on this planet that I know of, but the Lovely One has four hundred and fifty prophets. This will be easy for you to win, should it not?” “What is the test, cur?” spat out B’hab . Elijah looked up the mountain toward Loren, and Loren turned to Lair. “Bring out the oxen,” he said curtly. Lair spoke into the vox-caster and after a few seconds there was a soft mooing from below as two massive oxen walked into the circle behind Elijah. He put his hands on both of their necks and looked back at B’hab . “Here are two great beasts,” said Elijah. “Your prophets may choose whichever one they wish, cut it into pieces and lay it on the great stones within the circle. I will prepare the other oxen and lay it on another stone. When this is done, you and your prophets can call on the name of your Lovely One, and I will call on the name of the Emperor. The being who answers by setting the flesh of the beast of burden aflame is the true God. Do you accept?” B’hab walked over to the Emperor’s Children and spoke to them. Loren could not hear what was said, but he saw that the corrupted monarch looked worried. Loren watched as the priests arrived, dressed in their purple and gold robes. They slit the throat of the bull, laid it on the pallet of wood and called on the name of their heretic god for hours. “Lady of Desire, Lady of Love, answer us!” they screeched. But there was no response; no one answered. The sorcerers began to dance around the altar they had made, beating their drums and screaming in passion. All to no avail—the pallet did not alight, the sacrifice was not attained. Loren stood still, fingers tight on the trigger. When the sun was highest in the sky Elijah began to taunt them. “Shout louder!” he said. “Surely your Lovely One is a god! Perhaps they are is deep in slumber! Maybe your Lord of Pleasure is busy with something. Maybe they are traveling to a planet that worships them more fervently than yourselves.. Maybe they are just sleeping and must be awakened by louder supplications from their most dutiful subjects.” The priests and priestesses shouted louder and slashed themselves with swords and spears, as was their custom, until their blood flowed onto the sacrificial alter. But nothing happened. Even the Emperor's children seemed bored, finding amusement for themselves by idly ripping the skin off of passing cultists. Then Elijah said, “Come here to me”. When he said this, the people who had been standing by B’hab slowly began to walk over to him. They came to him in pairs at first, and then that small tide became a flood of converts as the priests of B’hab failed to light the sacrificial alter. As he spoke, Elijah built a small altar out of sticks in front of him. He took a small cut of the slain oxen and laid it on the small wooden slab he had made. He took twenty stones, one at a time, counted out slowly as Loren watched, and placed them on the flesh of the slain bull. Then he stood to his feet and walked to the side of his small altar. He began to dig a trench with his bare hands, and soon his new converts joined him. Elijah arranged the wood to sit in the center of this hastily dig ditch, and said, “Fill four large jars with water and pour it on the offering and on the wood.” B’hab laughed. “Is promethium your master’s trick? Then let me drink this so-called water you bring.” Elijah nodded and gestured to one of the people bringing water from the back of the truck. Loren could only shake his head: Elijah had asked for four jugs of water, and at the time he had thought the request absurd. Now he watched as the newly converted heretic poured the water out into the hands of the king’s servant with shaking hands. The slave dutifully shuffled towards the king, careful not to spill a single drop. He drank deeply from the slave’s hands. He swallowed, scowled, then spat. “Ha! This is prometium, as I thought!” He grinned wickedly as his acolytes cheered. “Then how did you drink it, my King?” replied Elijah. B’hab scowled. “Because…because I am worthy! Worthy of the Lovely One’s adoration! Elijah nodded, then turned to the supplicants bringing water. “Do it again,” he said, and they did it again. The water ran down around the small altar and filled the trench dug around it. The sun was now highest in the sky, purple-gold against the red sky. Elijah stepped forward with hands clasped in front of him and prayed in a strong and steady voice, “Lord, the God of Mankind, let it be known today that you are the one and only God in the entire universe. Know also that I am your servant, and that I do all things at your command. If this is not the truth, my Lord, then smite me with all of your power, all of your divine grace, as you would one of your very own Sons that turned against you—not in base vengeance, but in correction, not in punishment but in salvation of the soul everlasting.” He stretched out his hands and raised his head to the sky and cried, “Emperor of Mankind, if that be your name, if that is the one to whom I have given my heart and soul to, hear me now! If I speak false, strike me down! Turn me to ash and dust, and cast my soul into the darkness for all of time! Answer my plea to you so that these people will know that you, Emperor, are the one and only God of all that falls beneath the light of stars, and that you can turn their hearts back from the pits of darkness!” Loren stared at the man, trigger finger unwavering as he pointed his bolter rifle towards Elijah’s chest where the melta grenades were located. There was a terrible still, then—a waiting that seemed to drag on for eons. A minute passed, then another, and nothing happened. Then the brightest fire fell from a cloudless sky like a column of stone made of promethium set alight. It landed with a thud on ground and burned up the sacrifice, the wood, the stones and the soil, and also licked up the water in the trench. Elijah stood still in front of the torrent of flame. He looked up towards the heavens and smiled. The flame began to spin upwards like a blazing corkscrew. Loren’s Absolvers stood firm and silent on their guns without moving and inch, but Loren could hear the gasps of astonishment from the small troop of Imperial Guardsmen that they had bought for this mission. The crowd of heretics gathered around Elijah fell at once to their knees. They began to weep and cry out loud, “The Emperor—he is the Lord! The Lord—he is our God!” At a similar time, B’hab screamed, “Kill them!”, and several things happened at once. The Emperor’s Children, distracted by the flame and shrieking in disgust, were only too happy to take their bolters and begin firing. Several people were blown apart by the massive rounds, the ground becoming littered with split torsos and detached heads in an instant. Loren screamed out, “Pattern Alpha-Sigma, engage! Do not let any of the false prophets and heretics escape with their lives!” He began to fire, charging down the hill all by himself while screaming at the top of his lungs.The cultists turned, thinking that one Space Marine was no difficult contest. After all, there were so many of them, and only one of him. When they turned towards Loren, they presented their chests and heads for the gunmen in the ridge above. They made easy targets for the pinpoint-accurate riflemen. Loren fired his bolter around him and disintegrated the heads of several cultists. His main target was the Chaos Astartes. The one nearest him shrieked in delight and pulled out his chainsword. Loren met the first heavy swing and then the next, their chainswords squealing and releasing sparks. The other three were engaged in combat with the other members of the Absolvers. Loren saw Lair duck under the sweeping blow of a painted chainsword and dive in with a ceramite blade. The blade sank into the knee joint of the Astartes’s armor and Lair rolled past him. As the Chaos Astartes began to pull the blade out of its knee, cackling all the while, Lair pulled out his bolter and shot the Astartes in the head. The bolter round split his skill and shattered his eye into bloody fragments. The Astartes screeched in laughter and pain and two rounds followed their comrade before the Astartes laid still. Loren was still fighting the Astartes in front of him. As the Emperor's Child raised his sword up for a striking blow, Loren slashed at the ceramite armor of the chest plate. The Astartes staggered backwards, and as he did a tongue of the unearthly flame engulfed him, burning him into screaming nothingness. Loren swung his sword and split the cultists rushing him in half. He looked for Elijah and found him being attacked by the soldiers of B’hab. The old man had a staff with him and was parrying some blows, but for every one he turned away another would land. Elijah was driven to the ground by a punch in the stomach. He laid at the feet of B’hab, who raged and laughed maniacally. “Kill him!” screamed B’hab. “Kill this traitor, this heretic!” Loren raised his bolter calmly and fired once. B’hab’s skull split apart into fragments of flesh.The guards looked at the body of their king, then at Loren, and fled at once down into the canyon. Las-shots rained down from the canyon’s ledges above, cultists falling as they fled. Loren ran towards Elijah, who was trying to stand. A trickle of blood came from his mouth; Loren figured it was at least one broken rib, and he urged the old man to lie back down. “Wait for the medicae, Elijah” said Loren firmly. With surprising strength Elijah grabbed Loren’s chest plate and brought it down so that Loren’s eyes met his. With a strong voice he commanded, “Seize the prophets of the false god. Don’t let any of them get away, to spread their cancer elsewhere! Otherwise, the Emperor’s light will be challenged once more.”Loren nodded calmly. “We will deal with the heretics, Elijah. Rest now.” The man nodded and laid back down. Loren waited until Jordan rushed up to Elijah and placed him on a med-cart. Jordan and the rest of the apothecary units rushed back towards the camp. Loren took a deep breath, reloaded his bolter, and turned back down the canyon to finish the heretics off. “So, the target perished?” Loren nodded. “I am afraid so." The inquisitor frowned, his visage blurring on the pict-screen. “Unfortunate, but understandable. Very well—may the Emperor protect you, Captain Loren.” Loren nodded, his face a blank slate underneath the ceramite helmet. “May the Emperor protect you as well, Inquisitor.”The screen cut off. Loren sighed and took off his helmet. There was a knock at the door. “Captain Loren?” Primus’s voice called out. “Enter, Primus.”Primus walked in, hands behind him with a slight smile on his face. “I brought him with me, Sir. I thought he might help.” “Might help with what, exactly, Primus?” “I am here to help with your guilt,” said newly-minted Parson Elijah, dressed in robes of white and red with a ceramite breastplate on his chest and a short plasma sword at his side. “I know it was hard for you to lie to these Inquisitors of the Imperium, and although I am grateful for the compassion you all have shown me, to bear false witness is still a mortal wound.” He walked over slowly with a censer in his hands. He pulled it up and dipped his finger into the wax. Then Elijah traced the double-headed eagle of the aquila on Loren’s chest-plate. Loren and Primus bowed their heads as Elijah spoke. “Oh Emperor of Mankind, the great and terrible, who keeps his promise of love with those men who keep by him and follow his teachings, let your ears be attentive and your eyes open to hear the prayers of your humble servant. For those of the unfaithful and the lost, the scattered and the scared, I pray that they return to you and obey your Truth, so that even if they are in the furthest depths of the void of space, they will be gathered and redeemed by your mercy. And for the xenos, the heretics, and the demons, let them be destroyed by your mighty hand, by your mighty children. Soldiers of steel plate, of god-kissed bolters, warriors of truth and bravery, messengers of your strength and ambassadors of your grace, give them, your servants and your kin, success today and all days, so that thy will be done.”Loren bowed and felt a presence stir within him as Elijah started to carve the names of his fallen battle-brothers onto his ceramite. Thy will be done, my Emperor, he thought to himself.
submitted by RossDaWarboss to 40kLore [link] [comments]

2023.11.14 01:13 briefcasepoptart Hey r/Columbus! Help me create a list of activities to do around the city!

I have been trying to come up with my favorite places to go with family and friends come to town, but I seem to go to the same few places and looking to experience more around the city! I will edit the post to include your suggestions.
Sorry my list is mostly breweries, I am looking to find more hobbies... Thanks everyone!
​
Activities
Alum Creek Trail
Columbus Museum of Art
Columbus Zoo and Aquarium
COSI
Field of Corn (with Osage Oranges)
Franklin Park Conservatory
Glacier Ridge Park
Goodale Park
Hocking Hills
Mott's Military Museum
National Veterans Memorial and Museum
North Market
Ohio Statehouse
Schiller Park
Scioto Mile
Short North
Supreme Court of Ohio (open weekdays 8-5)
​
Sports
Columbus Crew
Columbus Clippers
Columbus Blue Jackets
Ohio State Buckeyes
​
Breweries/Bars
1487
Antiques on High
Brewdog
Columbus Brewing Company
Derive
Gemüt Biergarten
Getaway
Hillgarten
Hoof-Hearted
Jackie-Os
Landgrant
Nocterra
North High
Ohio Brewing Company
Olentangy River Brewing
Parson's North
Pretentious
Saucy Brewworks
Seventh Son
Tafts
Wolf's Ridge
​
submitted by briefcasepoptart to Columbus [link] [comments]

2023.10.08 04:04 FlorianTolk I love the Gov't!

I love the Gov't! submitted by FlorianTolk to wendigoon [link] [comments]

2023.09.15 12:31 tlldrbch My album recommendations for people using this sub to find new music.

My album recommendations for people using this sub to find new music. submitted by tlldrbch to Topster [link] [comments]

2023.09.05 23:27 MeaningIsASweater Excellent fantasy rail map by @floppatakes on Twitter. If only the city was competent enough to pull something like this off

Excellent fantasy rail map by @floppatakes on Twitter. If only the city was competent enough to pull something like this off submitted by MeaningIsASweater to Columbus [link] [comments]

2023.09.05 20:59 Man_with_a_mustache All nuclear Silos in the USA

All nuclear Silos in the USA submitted by Man_with_a_mustache to the_boys_and_girls [link] [comments]

2023.08.11 01:41 queenjaneapprox PART ONE: Why Holly Bobo's Murder May Still Be Unsolved

I mentioned in a comment on another thread here that I had done a writeup on Holly Bobo - then realized I never actually posted it anywhere. So I decided to finally share. I tried to be as comprehensive as possible with actual sources, but I am always looking for ways to correct inaccuracies and improve my own understanding. Also please feel free to let me know of any formatting errors.
This will be part ONE of hopefully a two part post.
April 13, 2011
Decatur County, Tennessee, is unremarkable in almost every way. I-40 brings thousands of people through every day, but it’s a small town through and through. Among the county’s 11,000 residents in 2011 was the Bobo family: mother Karen, father Dana, son Clint, and 20-year-old Holly. The four of them and their dog, Rascal, lived on Swan Johnson Road in a particularly rural part of the county.
Holly was a nursing student at the nearby University of Tennessee at Martin Parsons, and by all accounts was dedicated to her studies. She was a sweet, compassionate young woman who was heavily involved in her family’s church.
Holly was popular and well-liked, and had been dating Drew Scott since high school; he’d given her a promise ring that she wore every day.
On April 13, 2011, Holly woke up at 4:30 to begin studying for an exam. By 7:30, her parents had left for work and Holly was alone with her brother, who was sleeping in his bedroom. She spoke to her boyfriend, Drew Scott, around the same time.
Clint woke up to Rascal barking, then realized he could hear loud voices out by the garage. He peered through some blinds and saw two people kneeling down. One was Holly; the other, though, was a man. He noticed the man was wearing camouflage and assumed it was Holly’s boyfriend Drew. Clint couldn’t really make out what they were saying (except for Holly saying “no, why?”) but he could tell it was an intense conversation. He assumed that the couple was breaking up or arguing.
Clint wasn’t the only one to hear something that morning. A neighbor of the Bobos had called Karen at work to tell her that her son heard a loud scream coming from the Bobo home. Karen immediately called home and spoke to a still-groggy Clint. He told his mother that the noise must have been from Holly and Drew arguing. “Clint,” she said, “that’s not Drew. Get a gun and shoot him.”
Karen had good reason to be suspicious: she knew for a fact that the man seen with Holly could not be Drew because she had made arrangements for him to hunt early that morning on her mother’s property. But Clint either didn’t know this or wasn’t awake enough to process.
“You mean you want me to shoot Drew?” he asked. He took another look out the window and saw his sister walking into the woods with the man. He looked to be about 5’10 to 6’ tall, maybe 180 to 200 pounds. He had long dark hair brushing the back of his shirt. Karen’s panic was lost on her son, but when he went out and found blood in the garage, he finally called 911. Holly was out of sight now, somewhere in the woods with that stranger.
The investigation that followed involved the FBI, US Marshals, Decatur County police, and the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation. It quickly became the most expensive investigation in the state of Tennessee’s history. A few things turned up - a lunch box, a receipt, her cell phone. But it was not until February 2014 that Holly Bobo’s remains were finally found. There was a visible bullet hole in her skull.
Initial investigation
Police arrived at the Bobo home within ten minutes of Clint’s 911 call, and several other law enforcement agencies ultimately had a hand in the investigation. Still, it took authorities almost two hours to begin searching the woods where Holly was last seen, and it would take a few days for any evidence at all to be found.
The first item found by a witness was Holly’s polka dot lunch box; a man named Jon Graves fished it out of a creek. Next was a pair of pink panties, though these were later determined not to be Holly’s.1 The same person then found a school paper of Holly’s. After that, a classmate found her cell phone in a ditch. In May 2011, a young girl found the SIM card. All of these witnesses immediately alerted authorities, but not much came of these discoveries.2
That didn’t mean investigators weren’t working on the case. In fact, they had their eye on someone. it didn’t take long after Holly’s disappearance for the west Tennessee rumor mill to start whispering about Zach Adams. He was known as a small-time criminal and drug addict, which caught the police’s attention. He didn’t have a history of any violent crime, but some of his friends did, and authorities hardly saw that as exonerating. Plus, authorities were sure that the culprit had to be a local. The area was just too rural and the terrain too rough for an out-of-towner to be able to navigate and stay hidden.
By the second Saturday after Holly was taken, Adams was being questioned by police. Highway Patrolman Warren Rainey was one of the first law enforcement officers to talk to Adams at his home. According to Rainey, Adams declined to give out his cell phone number or to allow Rainey inside. He was so nervous he was shaking.
On his way out of the property, Rainey looked into his rearview mirror and saw Zach run back into the house, so he decided to hide a little bit up the road. He used a pair of binoculars to watch the property. Rainey was accompanied by local businessman Stephen Bryan Young.3 Young testified that as soon as Rainey left his property, Adams spent more than an hour vacuuming his truck.
Eventually Rainey assembled a search team complete with dogs. They thought they saw a grave in Zach’s backyard, but it turned out to be nothing. The only other thing of note was a mattress, in good condition, leaning against the outside of the house. Zach was seen hosing it down.
This was when the police changed their approach. Instead of continuing to interrogate Adams and search his property, they arrested his brother, John Dylan Adams, on a weapons charge.4 Rather than questioning him on this, though, they spent hours questioning him about Holly Bobo. Ultimately, Dylan accepted a plea deal on the weapons charge (to include no jail time) on the condition that he live with a man named Dennis Benjamin, a friend of the Bobo family and a retired police officer who was investigating Holly’s case. A little over a month later, Benjamin called the police saying that Dylan was ready to confess to Holly’s murder. Dylan told authorities that he had gone to Zach’s house on April 13th and found Jason Autry and Holly there, wearing a pink t-shirt.5 Zach told Dylan that he had recorded a video of raping Holly.
Dylan Adams has since argued that his confession was coerced. Family members testified to Dylan having a low IQ and a learning disability. The Adams’ grandfather went so far as to say Dylan didn’t know how to tell time on an analog clock and couldn’t be trusted when he told a story about something. Their mother later told media that Dylan had gone to separate schools for children with learning disabilities all his life. The defense argued that law enforcement knew this and deliberately focused on Dylan, rather than Zach, thinking that it would be easier to get a confession from someone who had trouble processing information.
Witness for the Prosecution
Despite Dylan’s full confession, the cornerstone of the state’s evidence at trial was the testimony of Jason Autry. Autry had been implicated in Dylan’s initial confession to the police; he was supposed to have been at Zach Adams’ house with Holly after she was kidnapped. Autry alone testified for almost nine hours, detailing his relationship with Zach and Dylan, as well as with Shayne Austin, and retelling the day of the murder, which notably differed from Dylan’s version of events.
According to Autry, he was addicted to morphine, methamphetamine, and hydrocodone. On April 13th, he’d been trying for an hour or so to get in touch with Zach Adams in order to buy some pills. But Adams was busy and said he would call Autry back a little later. At 8:55, Adams made that call. Now he was asking for Autry’s help.
Jason assumed he was going to help Zach cook a batch of meth, but something was peculiar as soon as he arrived to Shayne Austin’s home, as Zach had requested. There was a fire burning in a burn barrel, Dylan Adams was standing around shirtless, and an agitated Shayne Austin was walking around with a gun, yelling at everyone else to hurry up and get out of the area. This had nothing to do with drugs at all. Zach Adams needed Autry’s help hiding a body. Holly Bobo was wrapped up in a blanket in the bed of his white Nissan pickup truck.
Autry claims he didn’t know who Bobo was. Clearly, though, Adams had some connection to her. Apparently he knew Holly through her cousin Natalie Bobo, who he had sex with; Natalie had told Adams that Holly “would have a threesome” with the two of them.7 Why April 13th? According to Zach, he was at the Bobo home that morning to teach Clint Bobo how to cook meth. Holly realized what was going on, and ran outside yelling at them. Adams and Autry drove near a boat dock on the Tennessee River, about 25 feet from an I-40 bridge. When the two got out of the truck, they heard Holly groaning and saw her legs moving.
“This fucking bitch is still alive,” Autry said. He made sure the area was clear, Adams shot Holly in the head, and they rushed out of the area. Autry asked Adams how Holly ended up in the back of his truck. He responded, “We took her. Shot her up with drugs. We raped her. We thought we had killed her.” Zach dropped Autry off at his car and said he would take care of things.
Autry called Zach again later that day, around 2:00pm, hoping to buy more drugs. When he got to Zach’s house, “the air was just thick with animosity.” He got into a truck with Zach, Dylan, and Austin. An argument ensued. Shayne told Zach he did not have to kill Holly; Zach told Shayne he was just as guilty. Autry took this to mean that they had all raped her.
All this time, Holly’s body is gone. Autry doesn’t know where it is or what was done to it. It’s not until a few days later that he meets up with Zach and asks what happened to her body. He’s told that they threw it out near Kelly Ridge.8 He also gets a request from Zach to kill Dylan, who “would not stop talking.” Autry claims he actually made a plan to carry out the murder while fishing on the Tennessee River, which was only thwarted when another boat passed by. This same fishing trip was also when Dylan confirmed that Holly had been raped in Austin Shayne’s grandmother’s barn. It was August 2012 before Autry next saw Zach, Dylan, or Shayne. This was when Zach told the story about teaching Clint to cook meth.
According to Jason Autry’s story, Zach Adams kidnapped Holly from her driveway that morning, raped her along with his brother and a friend, attempted to kill her, and by 9:45am, he was at the I-40 bridge with Jason Autry. When the two were trying to bury her body and realized she was still alive, Autry made sure no one else was around so Adams could shoot her.
In Defense of the Accused
One of the first, most glaring inconsistencies in the Jason Autry’s testimony is what happened in the early morning hours of April 13th. According to him, the other suspects were at the Bobo house with Clint so they could make meth together. Holly’s vocal objection ultimately led to Adams killing her. But this differs significantly from Clint’s version of events. He says he was asleep inside when he heard Holly arguing with, he assumed, Drew Scott. At any rate, he only saw one man out there with Holly. Certainly nothing in Clint’s recollection points toward a methamphetamine cooking class. Cell phone pings, to the extent that they are reliable and accurate, also do not show Zach at the Bobo home that day.
It wasn’t just timing that clashed with Clint’s testimony. Clint denied knowing any of the men, and maintained that neither Zach Adams, Dylan Adams, nor Shayne Austin looked like the man he saw leading Holly into the woods. In fact, he explicitly described the man as having dark hair long enough to come out from underneath his baseball cap and touch the collar of his shirt. The state put forward the idea that Shayne Austin was the one who kidnapped Holly that morning, and he had short, red hair at the time, a huge departure from Clint’s description. And again, the state was relying on Autry’s testimony that Clint knew exactly who was at the house because he had asked them to teach him how to cook meth. If he invited the three men over, and knew who they were, why didn’t he recognize that it was Shayne talking to Holly?
Not only did Jason’s testimony clash with Clint’s, it completely contradicted Dylan Adam’s initial confession to police. Dylan stated that Autry was with Zach before Holly was killed, that the four of them were together at Zach’s house. Dylan also alleged that Zach had recorded a video of himself raping Holly. Jason Autry never mentioned anything about a video during the trial.
A second huge inconsistency with the testimony is the location of Holly’s remains. Autry was very detailed about where precisely Zach Adams fatally shot Holly, but always maintained that he left Adams with the body and didn’t know where exactly he buried it. He later claimed that Dylan Adams told him the body had been “thrown off Kelly Ridge.” But instead, her remains were found about two miles away off County Corner Road.9
It’s difficult to say whether or not forensic evidence can back up Jason’s story. Because her remains were entirely skeletonized, and only a few bones were found, all that could be gleamed was that she had been shot in the head. This tracks with Autry’s testimony about Adams shooting her for the last time under the bridge, but remember: Autry and Adams thought she was already dead. She was wrapped up in the blanket when Autry arrived. What happened before he got there?
The question of whether or not Holly was raped, and if so, by whom, loomed large over this investigation. From the very beginning, Dylan claimed Holly had been raped. Autry had inferred from comments made by Zach, Dylan, and Shayne that the three men raped her, but it wasn’t exactly a subject they dwelled on. It wasn’t until about a year later that Zach would tell Jason that Dylan “performed oral sex on him and Shayne before they raped Holly.” They never talked about it again. With any physical evidence long gone, this was the entire basis of the rape charges.
Motive was never made clear either. The prosecution has no real legal obligation to determine a motive, but it certainly helps make their story stronger. A few different possibilities were gently floated out. There’s the threesome story that Zach Adams allegedly told Jason Autry – maybe Holly had rejected Adams’ advances and that set him off. Or maybe Adams really was teaching Clint how to make meth, which started a fight with Holly and ended in her murder. It was also implied that Shayne Austin was almost obsessed with Holly, staring at her in public and maybe even following her.
None was explored in greater detail. In fact, Dylan Adams’ attorneys were adamant that neither Holly nor Clint had any connections to the three suspects.10 This doesn’t seem like a random crime of opportunity. It’s hard to imagine that anyone, these suspects or not, happened upon Holly walking out to her car on a weekday morning and took their chance. But whatever the motive may have been was never fully explained.
In what is probably the largest inconsistency, the entire timeline is suspect. Going by Clint’s recollection and Autry’s testimony, there would have only been an hour, maybe two, between Holly walking into the woods with the unknown man (who police argued was Shayne Austin) and Autry helping to bury her body. Autry’s testimony includes Holly being kidnapped, forcibly taken to the barn, raped by three men, and presumably murdered by 8:55. The drive alone from the Bobo home to the barn would take at least fifteen minutes.
Beyond Jason Autry's Testimony The prosecution (and the defense) always maintained that this was not a forensic evidence case, much less a DNA case. Three years had passed between Holly’s murder and the discovery of her remains. Any soft tissue, DNA, or other forensic evidence was long gone; authorities never even recovered a full skeleton. The state’s biggest piece of evidence was always Jason Autry’s testimony. But despite what some accounts of the trial imply, that was not their sole evidence.
Cell phone pings Without any real forensics, the prosecution leaned heavily on another kind of ‘hard’ evidence: cell phone pings. For all the fears over government spying and data harvesting, cell phone pings are not always as definitive as one might think. Cell phone “pings” allow a cellular network to determine the location of a specific phone in one of two ways. All new cell phones are legally required to be GPS capable as part of the E-911 program, in order to allow 911 operators to determine callers’ precise locations. When a phone is pinged, it sends its GPS coordinates back to the tower via the same SMS system that sends and receives text messages. Because the phone is sending its exact coordinates, this method is much more precise and reliable.
If someone has an old phone that isn’t GPS capable, the cellular network can provide a less accurate, though still useful, location using triangulation. At any given time, a phone will typically be in range of at least three cell towers. These towers are normally anywhere from 5-10 miles apart in an area like this part of Tennessee. Investigators can compare how long it takes for the cell phone’s signal to reach each tower and use that to triangulate a more approximate position of the phone. If there are more towers nearby, the location is more accurate. Unlike the SMS-style system, though, these “pings” only happen when a phone makes or receives a call. In Holly Bobo’s case, the police relied on triangulation records from the cellular network. For some reason, they opted to receive records for every 15 minutes, despite the fact that minute-by-minute tracking was available.
From 7:30am to 7:59am, cell phone pings indicate that Holly was still at home. By 8:26, her phone has moved north, and by 8:57, further north still, along I-40. A ping at 9:02am has the phone moving slightly southeast. At 9:06, an incoming call comes from the Cox Road tower, about 13 miles from Jimmy Evans Memorial Bridge. A final ping at 9:10am has moved even further to the east. Holly’s phone had moved along the same route as her possessions (lunchbox, school papers, etc.), which were later found by witnesses.
Zach Adams’ phone is likely at his house from 8:19am to 8:58am, pinging off the Cox Road tower.11 At between 8:58 and 9:12, his phone is pinging off a tower right next to the Jimmy Evans Memorial Bridge, the Birdsong tower, where Jason Autry claims Holly was shot. It continues to ping there until about 10:35am, when his phone moves more in the direction of his home.
At first glance, the cell phone pings would seem to back up Jason’s story. It looks like Zach and Jason were together from at least 8:58. Even though they were pinging off the same Cox Road tower as early as 8:19, we can safely assume they were not together since they were texting each other. By 8:58, Adams’ phone is at the bridge. Autry’s pings there at 9:42. They both leave at 10:35am. What about Holly’s phone? The last ping from her phone goes out at 9:10am, probably southeast of the Cox Road tower (the bridge is to the north east).12 Perhaps most importantly, the pings betray a lie that Adams told to an FBI agent early on in the case: that he had slept until at least 10:00am on the day Holly was killed.
Again, it is important to note that investigators appeared to be relying on triangulation, rather than the more accurate SMS-system pings, for each person’s cell phone data. The margin of error was quite large in this case, in some instances being as much as 7500 meters.
Witness Testimony Besides Jason Autry, another key witness for the prosecution was Victor Dinsmore. Dinsmore was a friend and drug dealer for the suspects, and some of Holly’s found items were discovered on or near his property. He recalled that on April 13th, Zach, Shayne, and Jason showed up to his place to get marijuana, fighting about “who was going to hit it first.” 13 Jason broke up the fight and they left.
More significant is what happened a few months later. Shayne brought Dinsmore a gun in exchange for pills, and Dinsmore gave the gun to his wife. At some point, Dinsmore told his wife they needed to get rid of the gun because “he was afraid it had a body on it.” They buried it before moving away to Indianapolis, but were unable to lead police back to it. Dinsmore also testified that Adams and company had brought him several guns, including one that he threw away in a pond because “it was junk.” It was this .32 that the prosecution put forward as the gun that killed Holly.
Dinsmore’s testimony regarding Zach Adams’ white Nissan truck was critical. In March 2014, after Zach was arrested, Dinsmore told police that Zach hid his truck after kidnapping Holly.15 Dinsmore claimed that Zach never mentioned anything about Holly Bobo; instead he was hiding the truck from his grandfather. Notably, he did not mention that the truck was hidden in his own garage.16 Later, Dinsmore was questioned by police officer Brent Booth, who told him that Jason Autry was prepared to testify that Adams’ truck was in his garage. At that time, Dinsmore stated “I know he didn’t hide that in my pole barn…no way.”
Dinsmore went back to his original story at trial, stating that Zach had indeed hidden the white Nissan on his property. He claimed that he “recovered the memory” after a conversation with his wife. But he also said that he “already remembered” when talking with Booth, but “was nervous of him trying to involve me” and so deliberately left it out of his statement. This is despite the fact that Dinsmore already head both federal and state immunity at the time.
So what is the significance of this? A few things. First, hiding the truck was part of Jason Autry’s testimony. If that was a lie, then his entire testimony is called into question. Second, from the defense’s perspective, this is just one of many examples of state investigators bullying their own narrative into witnesses. Dinsmore never said anything about the truck being hidden on his own property until questioned by Booth and being told that Autry would testify to that fact. His explanation for his “recovered memory” might be suspect, especially when he says that the reason he never told anyone before is because he was afraid of being “involved” when he already had immunity.17 The defense wanted to portray Dinsmore’s memory as, at best, unreliable, and at worst, completely “recovered” by investigators and regurgitated at trial.
Dick Adams, Zach and Dylan’s grandfather, testified in complete disagreement with Dinsmore about the white truck. The Nissan actually belonged to Dick, and he said he was certain that Zach couldn’t have had access to it on April 13th. Zach had been arrested and the truck impounded just nine days before Holly disappeared. He then hid the truck on a friend’s property to keep it away from Zach, and held onto the only set of keys. A person who lived on that property testified that the truck was at home the night before Holly vanished and that he thought it was there on the morning of April 13th.18
Rebecca Earp, Zach Adams’ girlfriend at the time of the murder, also testified for the prosecution. This alone was a change from the early days of the investigation. Earp had maintained Adams’ innocence until he was arrested in March 2014. Why the change in story? She says she was afraid of him; the defense says that the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation threatened to take away her baby if she didn’t cooperate.
“I couldn't have picked a prettier bitch. It was fun.”arp had some incriminating things to say on the stand about her ex-boyfriend. He allegedly told her once during an argument that “he would tie [her] up just like he did Holly Bobo and nobody would ever see me again.” She also said she was once cooking dinner for Adams and Shayne Austin when a story about Bobo aired on TV. Allegedly, Austin laughed and Adams stated “They’ll never be able to find her.” She also directly refuted Zach’s statement to police that he slept in until 10:30am on April 13th. According to Earp, Zach was awake by 6:30, then called to tell her he was going to haul scrap with Victor Dinsmore. Earp was suspicious for two reasons: first, she alleged Zach made that call on his brother Dylan’s phone, not his own. Second, she had left a note asking him to do laundry, which was not done when she got home.19 Either way, she did not believe his story as to what he was doing that morning.
Earp also testified to another incriminating statement allegedly made by Zach. She said she saw Zach and a friend taking a large, blue plastic bin to Birdsong Bridge; the two men were talking about disposing of Holly’s body. Later on that day, they told her it was actually leftovers from cooking a batch of meth, and they were testing her to see whether or not she would call the TBI.20
Not everything Earp testified to was iron-clad. For example, when cross-examined on Adams’ alleged comment that “they’ll never be able to find” Holly, Earp was unclear about when exactly this took place, at alternate times claiming it happened the day Holly disappeared or the day after. And the defense was able to demonstrate that there were no cell records whatsoever of a phone call from Dylan’s phone to Earp. In fact, records showed that Earp and Zach had been texting frequently on April 13th. Finally, Earp claimed that she had in fact reported that blue bin story to the TBI, but they had no record of any call from her.
Besides Dinsmore, Earp, and Autry, the jury heard from still others who claimed to have heard Zach (or Dylan) talk about what they had done to Holly. Most were fellow inmates at county jail, but some were acquaintances or romantic partners. One such inmate was a man named Shawn Cooper. Cooper had been held in county jail alongside Zach Adams, who Cooper said was bragging about being involved in “the Holly Bobo case.” Adams also asked Cooper to relay a message to his brother (who was being held at another county jail) saying Dylan needed to “keep his mouth shut” or Zach would “put him in a hole beside her.”21
  1. This is a perfect example of the state allowing the jury to interpret something incorrectly.
  2. NBC: DNA, personal items entered as evidence in Holly Bobo murder trial
  3. Stephen Bryan Young wasn’t the only civilian to accompany law enforcement on these sorts of operations. I have yet to come across any explanation for this.
  4. Some have suggested this was a ruse from the beginning to get Dylan into an interrogation room.
  5. Holly was last seen wearing a pink shirt and light-wash jeans.
  6. Fox 17 Nashville: Holly Bobo Trial: Former TBI agent explains focus on Terry Britt, not Zach Adams
  7. I believe this may have been denied by Natalie herself. Clint Bobo denied that he or his sister knew any of the suspects.
  8. Autry actually went to the property he thought Dylan was referring to, which included some small fishing ponds. He asked the property owners to fish on their land; they declined. He says that he was trying to find Holly’s body.
  9. The Jackson Sun: BREAKING: TBI says remains found Sunday are Holly Bobo
  10. Action News 5 Memphis: Dylan Adams sentenced to 35 years following plea in Holly Bobo case
  11. If these pings are reliable, then this fact alone would seem to totally exonerate Zach Adams: he simply wasn’t anywhere near Holly when she disappeared. But the prosecution handled this, and other inconvenient details, in a very clever way. Recall that the state argued that Shayne Austin was the man seen leading Holly into the woods: that would explain why Zach wasn’t there. Second, although Autry testified that Adams told him he was at the Bobo home, Autry could not say for a fact that Adams was there. He was merely speaking to what he had been told.
  12. The reason there are no more pings is because her phone, and its SIM card, were discarded. They would later be found northwest of the bridge in Parsons.
  13. The prosecution was clearly content to let jurors infer that this was a reference to raping Holly. However, she would have been dead at this point. It’s more likely that they were arguing over a joint or other drugs.
  14. Where did this fear come from? I cannot tell.
  15. Zach Adams Trial Day 5 Notes (special thank you to this Redditor!)
  16. Zach Adams Trial Livestream, 11:22
  17. Dinsmore had a past rape conviction and never registered as a sex offender in Tennessee.
  18. Fox News 17: Holly Bobo Trial: Former TBI agent explains focus on Terry Britt, not Zach Adams
  19. This part of Earp’s testimony was particularly confusing. It’s unclear why she took this as such solid proof that Zach was lying, but she did.
  20. I am not 100% certain where Birdsong Bridge is, but there is a section of Birdsong Road that goes over the Tennessee River. It's northwest of the Jimmy Evans Memorial Bridge.
  21. CBS News: Man charged with killing Tennessee woman Holly Bobo made threat
submitted by queenjaneapprox to UnresolvedMysteries [link] [comments]

2023.08.08 10:39 Zenox64 Here is some info on the internet outage yesterday

Here is some info on the internet outage yesterday
Started at 5:45
submitted by Zenox64 to FortMcMurray [link] [comments]

http://activeproperty.pl/