This is a re-posting of my "speed trial" findings I made in response to another post--I thought CB fans might find the results encouraging.
Test configuration:

1. Workstation--A home-brew Asus M5A78-L-M mobo, AMD FX-8350 (8-core 4 GHz) CPU, 8 GB memory, NVidia GeForce GT 750 video, running Linux MInt 21.3;
   
2. Target Printer--Anycubic Photon Mono M5;
   
3. Test model--A 32.2 MB unicorn squirrel .stl file from Thingiverse;
   
4. Tested software--Chitubox_Basic v2.1 and Lychee Slicer v5.3.4
   

Methodology:

1. Measure elapsed time to slice and save to a .pm5 file;

Results:
Chitubox--2m 15.21s;
Lychee--6m 56.8s (over 3x longer);

I also conducted the same tests on the same workstation, same model, same printer; booted up to Windows 10 v22H2, however I also tested Anycubic Photon Workshop v3.3.0 (a Windows/MAC only app);
Results:
Chitubox--2m 12.37s (a tiny bit faster than on Linux, could have been my reaction time);
Anycubic--9m 23.5s (Wow was not expecting that!);
Lychee--ran for: 3m 29.2s then crashed and restarted!);
I was getting bored by then so I did not have another go at it.
CB_B 2.x is a new major upgrade from Chitu, I've never had one of those that was flawless--even with applications I wrote!
It is also FREE, like the Anycubic Workshop (now in v3.3.0)--I think Chitu will need some time shake out the bugs, and based on their performance over the years with v1.x.x I believe they can and will...

This is the prologue for my grimdark story. The prologue is designed to be the longer chapter, but the other chapters are designed to not exceed 2,000 words.
Synopsis (I will only give a summary for the first part of it as to not spoil the prologue, as I wish for geniune spoil-free reaction, if that is okay):
In the prologue, Harisken leads his village in military training against an imperial threat that has been announced in a letter from Sofran Garmer Lovewater, urging defence of their homeland, Pedranier. The villagers, including Harisken's son Carasken begin their training. As they practice combat skills, Harisken imparts lessons of endurance and the harsh realities of war. When they return to the village, a prayer is made and food is served.
I would like criticism on the following:

1. Character voice - is the narration done well that places you inside of the character's mind (I.E. the narrative does not feel distant).
2. DIalogue - do the characters all sound different and is it interesting for you?
3. Emotions - do you connect with the PoV by the end of the chapter?
4. Is what is happening clear?

This is Grimdark so reader discretion is advised.
Link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1eRgQo--isrtDc4ynRQwVeZoZNyvug-VMHn55v5kmaLw/edit?usp=sharing
Thank you, all. If I am missing something, please let me know!
I am willing to read medieval fantasy. I am working on another project on top of this, which is 115K words, so I am able to commit long term. If you enjoy my writing sytle and want a long term partner, I am able to also provide the other novel which is set 66 years in the future from this post's story.

Hi there, I have a Phillips 32'’ Brilliance 2018 model monitor (usb-c and HDMI connection) and in the past week half of the monitor has started going blurry. It stops and starts randomly, but keeps coming back and is now a lot more frequent. There has been no change in use or something that happened that would have triggered this that I’m aware of. I have changed cables, tried both USB-C and HDMI and tested on both my Mac and PC and am getting the same issue. I used the reset option on the monitor and that also hasn’t worked. I’m hoping someone might have some suggestions on what else I can try? Thanks so much in advance!!! I have a video but it looks like I can’t post that.

This has been around for a couple months, but I haven't seen this posted anywhere else. Batocera doesn't showcase this on their downloads page, but they do have beta and release candidate images for the VisionFive 2 tucked away on their mirror site.
This is the only game emulation frontend that I know of for a RISC V board as of now. I don't have the board to test it, so I don't know how many emulators or Retroarch cores this build has. I do know PPSSPP has support for RISC V, so that's probably on there.
https://mirrors.o2switch.fbatocera/visionfive2/

TL;DR: ^{Struggled with social interactions, obsessive tendencies, and learning difficulties throughout life. Diagnosed with multiple conditions including Autism Spectrum Disorder Level 2 and anxiety disorders. Unemployed since 2019, unable to find accommodating work due to conditions. Considering applying for disability benefits but unsure of eligibility. Feeling lost and overwhelmed.}
My whole life I've had a hard time relating with people, connecting with people, making eye contact, enjoying the same things as others. I always tended to obsess on something for example if I took a part-time job I would burn myself out because I couldn't help but focus on work after work. To the point I'd break rules to login to resources and do research off the clock, resulting in me being fired.
When I was a child I would be more excited about the box the gift came in that I could hide in from everyone, instead of the gift itself. I didn't ever like parties with lots of kids, I would tend to hide until the party was over and call my mom until she came and picked me up. I couldn't handle kids tapping pencils in the class so my teacher would put me in the hallway, this to me was a treat not a punishment. I don't like making eye contact it feels really weird and I'm not good at it. When I practiced it someone said I creeped them out because I would just stare straight into their eyes without breaking contact like normal so I just avoid it altogether.
Anyhow a lot of these issues I adapted to pretty decently until I turned 30 and realized the stuff wasn't improving even with a few years of weekly therapy sessions with 2 different psychotherapists. Always struggled with panic attacks and chronic anxiety. I also have never been able to learn math equasions for example x = y type stuff. My brain goes "Why is a letter in math" and I used to read and write backwards.
I recently got engaged and my FIance after spending 8 months with me said she thinks somethings off, "No offense". None taken.. Anyways.. I saw a top psychologist in my state and spent a few hours on a few different occasions with them. Took some tests and they told me I have:

• Schizotypal Personality Disorder
• Mathematics Learning Disability
• Post Concussion Syndrome (Severe TBI in a motor vehicle accident 2013)
• Panic Disorder
• Generalized Anxiety Disorder
• Autism Spectrum Disorder Level 2

I know it's a laundry list. I have been unemployed since 2019 I only am able to work side jobs anymore. I just have constant panic attacks that have been unmanaged with medications and psychotherapy so I actually quit going to therapy and seeing a shrink. Therefor I only have 12 work credits on my record which I've read some of those fall off every 5 years.
I'm just wondering, do I even have a chance in hell at applying for SSI/SSDI or any type of assistance or am I going to have to try and find a job that will accomodate me or something? I have yet to find one of those by the way. I am very forthcoming with my conditions and typically this results in no hire. I have applied for over 100 jobs since 2019. I've heard back from a dozen or so, and the rest just likely throw my application in the trash.
I don't understand anything about disability or social security and my mom has told me I need to try and apply for benefits. Is it worth my time at all having only 12 work credits? Am I even eligible for SSI or SSDI? I don't know what to do anymore I'm feeling kinda depressed now because I have lived my whole life in a lie it feels like. I have had to always do things that "normal" people do and it has ground me into the dirt. I was very lucky to meet my fiancee online and we ended up talking for a few months before meeting in person. SHe loves me to death, I love her very much too although it took me a long time to learn what I was actually feeling and learn how to commit myself and be a good Fiance.
I just don't know anymore what to do, where to turn, who to ask.. Thank you.

Air, shelter, water, and food, all essentials of life we take for granted. The gratitude of being alive,
smothered by emotional baggage. Just a bunch of pill induced zombies, riddled by life’s perplexities. Not
me, not any more at least. No, now I wake up every day reborn with a newly discovered purpose in life,
thanks to, him.
Most would be emotionally devastated and seek long term therapy, after what I had endured.
Most would need to be heavily medicated, to calm their anxiety of the fear he would return. No, not me,
the person I once was, is now dead. Suffocated, frozen, dehydrated, and starved out of me. Who I was
perished, and I am grateful. I am offering you the same, but before we get started, let me explain how I
arrived at this place of serenity.
The night was the same as always. I had just finished gorging myself on junk food while binge
watching a reality show. Empty bottles of soda surrounded me as I surfed the streaming networks.
Knowing my weight was getting out of control, I still managed to finish off the bag of greasy potato
chips. My bottles of meds sat on the end table waiting for me. Depression, anxiety, stomach, and heart
pills all courtesy of the negligence of my life choices. One by one I swallowed the antidotes of a better
me. Yet, there never seemed to be a stronger version of myself, no matter how many pills I ingested.
Falling asleep, I told myself tomorrow would be different. Tomorrow I will try harder. As I drifted
off to sleep, I felt a sting in my neck, only waking up for a few seconds. My eyes opened just enough to
see him standing over me. Fighting to stay awake, my eyes latched closed, and I fell into the darkness.
Upon awaking, I could hear sounds of mumbles surrounding me. Feeling heavy and disoriented, I
managed to flicker my eyelids. As the minutes passed, my surroundings became more lucid. The foul
stench of pig shit singed my nose hairs. Dust from old haybales stimulated my sense of smell, inducing a
sneeze. An unimaginable pain coursed through my mouth. Still dazed and confused, I heard a voice say,
"we can't have that, now, can we?". Once again, I felt a sting in my neck, causing me to drift out of
reality.
"Wake up", I heard as I came to, "we need to get started". Started with what, I tried to ask. Yet,
my mouth wouldn't open. Tranquilized still, I thought maybe my brain just wasn't cooperating with my
body. Flexing my jaw, I tried again to speak, it was useless. All I could do was mumble. My words were
nothing more than muffled grunts behind a padded wall.
Looking around, I could see I was not alone. Vision blurry, I still managed to make out a large
silhouette of a man sitting in front of me holding a cutting needle and thread. He then placed the needle
on a barrel and stood up. Whistling, "The Sun will come out tomorrow", I began to look around. There were other people with us. Including myself, all tied to chairs and mouths sewn shut. Three of us were men. The fourth was a woman in her
mid-forties. She was crying and moaning uncontrollably. Mucus ran down her face dripping from her
chin. Trying to console her, I batted my eyes. It was all I could do without having the use of my mouth
and arms.
The injection he had no doughtily given me, had worn off. Like the woman, I found myself in panic
mode. My heart raced fast. I thought I would have a heart attack. Wanting to scream, I
couldn't. Wanting to run but I was incapacitated. Fighting my way out, entered my mind, but how? How,
with my hands bound behind my back. Besides, I wasn't a fighter, and the man was massive. He would
be very intimidating under any circumstance. His raggedy hair was sandy blonde with a mixture of gray.
Deep wrinkles hid behind a handlebar mustache, which stretched across his face. Thick eyebrows sat
untamed above his devilish eyes. Watching him, I tried not to make eye contact. I looked everywhere,
other than at him. The other two men looked as frightened as me. One man, the bigger one, had tears
but made no sounds. The other man was a very frail older man. He shifted side to side as he tried yelling
from behind his fastened lips. His arms bared scars of that of a junkie. His body, covered in scabs.
Cautiously, I looked around. A rusty old plow sat in the corner next to some feed sacks. A saddle
lay across an old broken table. Two horses stood quietly behind their stall door. I could see rays of light
shine through the cracks between the boards. It was daylight, knowing that gave me comfort somehow.
The barn was dusty, and as painful as it would be, I hoped I would sneeze again. At least then I could
scream. Abruptly the man stopped whistling and spoke.
Your mouths are bound together so that I cannot hear you. People talk too much, making the
world noisy. All loud with pathetic excuses of their weaknesses. I am not going to kill you. Your life is in
your own hands. Up to this point, you have wasted your life hiding behind your addictions. Cowering
and leaning on crutches of life’s temptations. I am here to save you from yourselves.
The rule of three is simple. You can survive three minutes without air, three hours without
shelter, three days without water, and three weeks without food. If you truly desire to live, then you will
triumph. If not, you will perish. I am here to help you unpack your emotional baggage. Air, the very
breath you breathe, you have taken for granted. So, please slow your breathing and relax. We are about
to begin.
While you were sleeping, I provided you with adequate fluids and nutrition. I cannot have you
starting off, on an empty tank. I want to be as fair as possible and make this a pleasant experience.
Though, I warn you it will not be easy, and you will have to dig deep within yourselves.
The burly man began whistling once again. He placed an egg timer on a barrel, grabbed a plastic
bag and spoke. You can survive three minutes with no air. Do you have the desire and strength to want
to live? For you, I truly hope so.
Standing behind the heavier man he turned the timer and then placed the plastic bag over his
head. The man jerked in his chair, thrashing about. One minute, he said. The man still moving wildly.
Two minutes, almost there just hold on. Three minutes he announced, ripping the bag from the head of
the now motionless man. “Oh dear, I guess he did not have what it takes, next”. My heart raced even
faster as he stood next to the now inconsolable woman. I would be after her. I had to slow my breathing
if I were to live. Picking up another bag, he stood behind her.
The air went in and out her nose as she hyperventilated. “There, there, I’m not going to hurt you”,
he said, as he patted her on the shoulders. “Three minutes is a miniature amount of time. I wish you the
very best.” Her legs kicked out lunging back and forth. Her muffled shrieks filled the barn. “Are you
ready?” He then reset the timer. Fearing for my own life, I turned my head and concentrated on my
breathing. Trying hard to block her out, I went to another place in my head. As hard as it was, I imagined
I was calm and at peace lying on a sandy shore. Desperately, I wanted to cover my ears. Her loud cries
soon became small whimpers. Then to gurgles as she choked on her own vomit. Turning my head back
towards her, I could see her convulsing as life left her body. “Not quite a minute, what a shame”, he
said.
Thinking back to when I was a child, and held my breath under water, outlasting my brother.
Back then, holding my breath was easy for me and I always won. Being in my mid-thirties, I wasn’t a
child any longer. Could I beat this, I questioned. Unlike the woman next to me, who reeked of tobacco, I
didn’t smoke. My chances were greater than those who came before me.
Excepting the inevitable, I practiced my anxiety exercises my therapist had taught me. Four, four,
four, inhale hold, exhale hold. If I panic, I will surely suffocate, I told myself. The other man was calmer
now and followed my lead. Our eyes locked on to one another as we breathed. “Very good, that is what
I want to see, a thirst for life, the will to live.”
Picking up a bag, he then stood behind me. I took a deep breath as he turned the timer. I felt the
panic trying to set in, but I pushed it deep down. Oddly enough, the tune he’d been whistling popped
into my head. “The sun will come out tomorrow”, played as the bag was put over my head. “So, you got
to hang on ‘til tomorrow.” Not wanting to see the blurred images through the bag, I closed my eyes. I
just kept humming the tune in my head. “One minute”, he said. Getting more difficult to hold my breath,
I could feel my heart beating faster and my blood pressure rising. The tune still reeling in my head,
“tomorrow, tomorrow, I love you tomorrow”. “Two minutes”. I can do this, I’m almost there, but my
mind was getting foggy, and my chest tightened. My muscles tensed up as I felt my existence dwindle
away. The tune that kept me going had faded away somewhere deep into my brain. Hungry for air, I
started scratching my hands behind my back. I was going to die. Tomorrow, tomorrow, I managed to
think one last time. “Three Minutes”!
Air rushed through my nose, as I clung to the remaining life I had. It was the greatest feeling just
being able to breathe. I’d made it, I had beat him, I was alive. “Congratulations, you did well”. “Breath
and continue to appreciate the gift, I have given you”.
Tears rushed down my cheeks, as I sat watching the man set the stage for the last occupant. As
sympathetic as I was, I was overwhelmed too just be alive. Still fighting my anxiety, I closed my eyes,
four, four, four. Sounds of distress and faint scuffling could be heard, yet I refused to open my eyes.
Three minutes passed quickly. “We have another fighter, outstanding.” Opening my eyes, I seen that the
other man had also survived. “Two out of three, I wished it faired better.” “It is a pity they perished, yet
the pigs will eat well.” “Nothing should ever go to waste”. “Their carcasses are a valuable resource.” I
am thankful for their contribution.”
“I will let you rest up.” The next gift, is that of shelter.” “People of the world scratch and claw to
have bigger dwellings of that of their neighbor.” Never being thankful of the shelters warmth when it is
cold.” “Not a second thought about the materials taken from the earth to provide that comfort.” “I will
teach you to not care about the size or the looks. You won’t care if it’s a barn or a house made of sticks.
You’ll learn to be content as it shelters you from the storm.
Not understanding what was coming next, I tried thinking of ways to escape. Wringing my hands
together, I tried loosening the rope. He had his back turned removing the bodies from the chairs. Yet
somehow he still managed to catch on to what I was doing. “That’s a double sheet bend knot.” Try as
you might, you will not loosen or untie it.” “Yet I commend you on your perseverance.” “If you escape,
you will not learn the valuable lesson I am trying to teach you.” “Sit and be patient, like I told you
before, I’m not going to kill you.”
He was right. The more I tried twisting my wrists, the tighter the rope became making them bleed
and burn. “Why was he doing this and why me”, I wanted to ask. The inside of my mouth was so dry,
and I was thirsty. All I could think about was water to wash out the metallic taste left from the wounds
of my lips. Making eye contact with the other man, I wondered if he was as thirsty as I. “The storm will
be here soon, and we can continue.”, he said as he removed a hacksaw hanging from the barn wall.
We watched as the man carried on as if he’d done this before. He laid the saw across a table.
Sweat dripped from my head as I panicked. What was he going to do to us? I thought. Do not worry, this
saw is not for you, he said as he placed the woman’s body on the table. He then began to dismember
her legs. He continued to hack through the bodies throughout the day. He would casually take breaks
between the removal of the body parts. After he was done, he used a rusty old wheel barrel to take the
parts out of the barn. He kept his word. I could hear the pigs happily squealing as he fed them.
The light that had previously comforted me dwindled away as darkness approached. As frightened
as I felt, all I could think about was water. “It is time”, he said as he wiped sweat from his brow. “I will
untie your arms so you can move freely. I encourage you to move as much as possible to keep the blood
circulating. Frostbite and hypothermia are inevitable if you let yourself settle. You can wear the clothes
you have on, but nothing more.
The barn was heated with an old wood stove. Our captor had fed it wood throughout the day. Yet
the wind from the storm outside seeped through the cracks. A chill came over me, fearing what was
next. The four technique no longer working. He then placed a makeshift collar around our necks.
Connected to the collar was a chain. After untying the ropes from behind our backs he told us to stand.
Fearing what he would do, I did what he told me.
He then unlatched the wooden brace holding the barn doors shut, unveiling winter’s wrath.
Weather in Michigan was unpredictable and harsh at times. That night was no different. The wind
bustled through the doors as we all stood staring into the night. Snow was falling rapidly and had quickly
begun accumulating. “Tonight’s storm is only a mild one but will last a few hours.” “Having your mouths
bound is a positive.” “It will protect your lungs.” Your heart rate will lower the less you move so keep
moving to boost your circulation.” “You will have to endure three hours in the weather.” “This trial is
brutal, I know but if your life is precious then you will improvise, adapt, and overcome.
He then led us by the chains out of the barn and into a wooden pen. It didn’t have a roof but was
too tall to climb over. “I know you must be thirsty, but if you try and eat the snow you will only amplify
dehydration and hypothermia.” He then removed the collars and locked the door. As he walked away in
his rabbit fur coat, he turned and once again said, “Do you have the desire to live, for you I truly hope
so.”
Frantically I surveyed the pen looking for a way out. The enclosure was made of old pallets, thin
boards, and cattle fence. It was sturdy enough to keep us in but not the wind out. It must have been
about twelve feet wide by twenty-four feet long. Rubbing my hands along the gaps, I felt something
warm run down my fingers. I had sliced my hand along the inside of one of the pallets. He had secured
razor blades and sharp nails from the inside to keep us from climbing out. Even if we were able to make
it to the top, we wouldn’t be able to climb over the razor wire that spiraled along the perimeter.
More frantic than I, the other man ran back and forth. He was shaking and sweating profusely. How
could he be sweating in this weather, I thought. On the other hand, I had begun to shiver. My feet had
already begun to tingle. Wearing only gym shorts, socks, and a t-shirt, I knew I must keep moving. The
other man was more fortunate than I. He was wearing pajama bottoms, socks and a hoodie. At least he
had a layer to break the wind.
The snow was dry and easy to move. Thinking maybe we could get out from the bottom. I began
moving the snow with my hands. As I moved it, I motioned for the other man to help. My attempts to
get his attention went unnoticed. He had found a nail long enough to cut through the stiches in his
mouth. Watching him, I debated on doing it myself. Though I thought of the burly man and his hacksaw.
Deciding it was best to keep my lips bound, I watched him saw through his. He yelled in agony as blood
dripped from his lips. Be quiet, I wanted to tell him, he’ll hear you.
When the last stitch broke the man dropped to his knees gasping and crying. He then stood up,
removed himself from his pants, and began urinating in the snow. “I’m Evan”, he said shivering and still
covering the white snow yellow. His urine smelled foul as the wind carried the smell. Not being able to
talk, I used a stick to spell out my name. Letter by letter, I spelled it out, Liam. He didn’t acknowledge
what I had written. He didn’t seem to care about what my name was.
Bending over he began to eat the yellow snow. Then pulling up his sleeves, he did something that
made my stomach churn. He picked off the scabs from his arms and started sucking on them. I now
understood he was detoxing and was trying to get a fix from the meth that had exited his body. I had a
cousin in jail once, who had described this same behavior from the inside. After doing this for a few
minutes he then spoke. Stuttering out his words, “I know it’s disgusting, but it is what it is.” “Now how
we gonna get out of this here, Liam. No matter what he was or what he spoke, it was comforting to hear
him speak to me.
Not knowing how to get out I just started moving. Shaking my head and still shivering, I began to
do jumping jacks. There wasn’t a way out and I was so cold. Knowing that I had to keep moving I
continued. I knew that if I didn’t move, my heart would slow and eventually stop. “You gonna listen to
that Behemoth or ya gonna try and help me find a way out?” Stopping, I once again tried looking from
the bottom. He looked for a way to climb over. Neither of us found a way to escape. Both of us,
shivering we stopped looking.
As we huddled together in the corner, a voice came from a speaker. “One hour has passed, two
hours remain.” Your lust for drugs trumps your lust to live.” “It will be your demise.” He’d seen, he’s
watching us, I thought. Not wanting to die, I began running in circles. The pain was excruciating. Every
step I took was like stepping on needles. My nose felt like it would break off.
“It’s no use, we’re gonna die, Evan said as he plopped on the ground. Using my arms, I motioned
for him to get up, but he refused. He sat in the corner with his teeth chattering and shoulders shaking.
While Evan sat, I continued. Running from one end to the other, tears freezing as they plummeted from
my eyes. As I ran, I tripped over something that caught my attention. It was a stack of a few boards
hidden under the snow. Uncovering them I counted them out in my head. There were several I dug out. I
crafted a fort in my head. We could use the wood for a shelter. Once again, I motioned for Evan to help.
Evan didn’t speak or move. “Two hours”, I heard as a voice projected from a hidden box.
Quickly I stumbled to Evan, shaking him. Tears ran down my cheeks as I faced the truth. I was
alone. Evan’s inability to try had snuffed out his life. He was dead. Time seemed to stand still in that
moment. Looking at his lifeless body, I realized he wasn’t a frail old man. He in fact was my age. The
drugs just made him look old. My sadness for him abandoned me to be replaced with anger. He should
have tried harder. I was now alone. He had left me alone.
Feeling numb and secluded, I wanted to give up. There wasn’t much fight left in me, yet
something in me snapped. I didn’t want to die. Ripping my wet clothes off, I threw them to the ground.
Trying to keep my temperature above freezing, I jumped and staggered in the snow. Laying Evan’s body
flat on the ground, I thought I would use it as a warm layer between me and the ground. One board at a
time, leaned them over Evan’s body and up against the pen, making an ominous clubhouse. Shivering
and naked, I crawled inside and laid on Evan’s lifeless body.
No longer having the strength to move, I lay crying. In the last hour I replayed my life. If only I had
another chance to do it all over again. If only I thought as my eyes closed. The door then opened, “Three
hours”. “Stand up.”, he said as he wrapped a fur coat around my frigid body. ”Come on, you have passed
but you are not out of the woods yet.” Replacing the collar around my neck he then led me back into the
barn.
“I have prepared a warm bath for you.” He then helped me lift my legs over a galvanized water
trough. “There, there”, he said, “Just sit and let the bath warm your blood. The pain of prickly needles
washed over my body as the numbness dwindled. Fading in and out, I watched him carefully remove a
stockpot from the stove. He poured the water from the pot over my head. “Just relax, you should be
proud of yourself.” “You have outlasted all who came before you.” “You’re a fighter and you value your
life. I watched as he warmed pot after pot, continuously pouring them over me.
“I will have to give you warm fluids intravenously.” “Try to stand”, he said as he lifted me up and
out of the trough. He then dried my body with a towel. After he dressed me in dry clothing, he led me to
a makeshift bedroom converted from a stall.
As he assisted me into the bed, I noticed a tray with medical instruments on it. What were they
for I wondered, but to tired to care anymore. He then placed the I.V. needle in my arm and covered me
up. “Rest up and sleep while I deal with the frostbite.” Before I was able to think about what he had just
said, I went out.
Waking up, I was no longer cold. The shivering and pain from the night before gone yet replaced
with new discomfort. My hands, feet, face, and head all pulsing. Slowly, I removed the blanket with my
bandaged hands to see my feet. Both were wrapped in bandages. Looking over my entire body, I
reached for my face. It was also bandaged. I could feel that my ears and nose were missing. “I know this
must be shocking to you, but it had to be.” “You had deep frostbite in your fingers, toes, ears and nose.
They had to be amputated. “I have sealed off the wounds and have given you antibiotics to fight off
infection.” “Be grateful your alive.”
“You are very ambitious, and I want to reward you for your success. “If you can continue to
cooperate, I will remove the stitches from your lips. “Don’t speak unless I ask you to.” “Can you give me
word that you can stay quiet?” I nodded in agreement.
As promised, he removed the sutures from my lips. Handing me a tin cup of water, he told me to
drink. Words can’t express how refreshing the first sip was. Not being able to control myself, I gulped
down the entire cup. Handing the cup back to him I managed to mumble, “more?” Violently, he struck
me in the face and stood up. “More, more more”, he yelled as he paced the floor. “Always wanting
more!” “You should have savored every last drop rather than gulping it down like a pig at a trough.”
“You have reached your third trial.” “Water is the source of all life and you will learn to appreciate it. Do
you have the desire to live?” “For you, I truly hope so.”
Locking the door behind him, he left the room. Feeling relief from his absence, I took a deep
breath. Concentrating on the air that went in and out my lungs, I was thankful to be alive. It had been a
couple of days since I was able to breathe through my mouth. I felt happiness and gratitude to just be
able to breathe. The blanket and bed kept me warm from the cold that seeped through the barn walls.
Feling relieved, I felt safe for that minute. I pulled the blanket up under my chin and just lived in the
moment. Looking for ways to escape no longer crossed my mind. Still fearful of the man, yet I felt a
strange feeling of gratitude toward him.
Mixed emotions danced around inside of me as I lay. Thinking of the others that were with me, I
pitied them. Had they truly wanted to survive, they would be alive. Had they fought harder, they would
have won against his trials. My sympathy for them abandoned my thoughts, replaced with
disappointment. Questioning my mental state, I laid wondering if I’d gone mad. How could I sympathize
with a man who had essentially tortured me. How could I be thankful to a killer, I wondered. As
comfortable as I was, I was thirsty. Three days was a long time to go without water. Knowing this, I
closed my eyes to try to sleep through it.
A familiar tune whistled through the cracks of the wall. My eyes blurry from crust, I wiped it away
with my bandaged hand. Curious, I tried peeking through a hole in a board. Seeing the two horses in the
next stall brought back anxiety from the first trial. Sounds of mumbling could be heard. Listening
intensely, I realized he had more victims. Wanting to scream out to them to calm their breathing, I said
nothing. Fearful he would kill me if I spoke. Though I didn’t have to. He was telling them to be calm and
they would live. If only they would listen, they could live. One after another perished throughout the
ordeal. Once again mixed emotions of sympathy and anger fought within me. I slammed my hand
against the stall boards. Why am I angry at them, I questioned myself. Hearing the distinct sound of the
hacksaw cutting through the bodies, I became sick. I crawled back in the bed and covered my head.
“Wake up, you have rested enough.” Leading me into the room where the bodies were, he
motioned for me to pick the parts up. “I will cut the meat and you will load it up.” “Do you
understand?”, he asked. I nodded yes and began putting the severed limbs in the wheelbarrow.
“Take it out back to the pigs.” “I trust you won’t try to run.” You will not get very far in your
condition and the weather” He was right, still bandaged and weak I knew I would freeze. Reluctantly I
put a arm, leg, and head in the wheelbarrow.
Once again, the cold made me shiver as I treaded through the snow. The night was calm. The
moon shined down on the solar panels that lined the buildings. I was on some sort of homestead.
Nearing the structure that housed the pigs, I cringed at the thought of feeding them. The squealing led
me to the hog house. Opening the door and entering, I gasped in horror. Piles of bones lay everywhere
within the house. The pigs squealed in delight as I tossed the body parts to them. The smell was pungent
and took my breath away. Not being able to hold back, I vomited the only liquids I had in me. After
unloading my delivery, I left to retrieve another load. Feet still bandaged, and I was cold, the thought of
running left my mind. Yearning for the warm bed, I trudged my way back to the barn. This went on
throughout the night.
“Almost done, this is the last of it.”, he said as he cut through a torso of a woman. “You have done
well, and I am proud of you.” “I know your cold and must be thirsty.” Yet, you still have forty-eight hours
left until you can replenish your thirst. “Keep motivated and you will triumph over your it” After the last
load was completed, he led me to the bed and rebandaged my wounds. Curiously looking down at my
severed toes, I seen I was missing five of them. The same as he bandaged my hands. I was four less
fingers. Two were gone from each hand.
My stomach grumbled as I tossed and turned. All I could think about was water and food. I
eventually passed out from the nights work. Waking up, I felt disoriented and weak. The hunger for food
and water still consuming my thoughts. “Twenty-Four hours left”, his voice said from outside the stall.
“Get up, I have more work for you.” “You have to earn your keep.”
The man then entered the room and placed the collar around my neck. “Here is a coat to keep
you warm, he said as he placed it on my back. Then he handed me some rubber boots. “These should
help keep your feet dry while you dig.” Wanting to ask, dig what, I didn’t dare from the fear of being
struck again. The task will be difficult but not impossible. Handing me a shovel, he led me to the spot he
wanted dug.
“The weather has let up and the temperature has risen. I can not trust that you might try to run.
He then locked the chain to a stake in the ground. “The hog house needs cleaned of the bones.” “Dig me
a hole big enough to bury the remains of the less fortunate.” “I will return in twenty-four hours.” You
have fared well so far, keep up the good work and you will be rewarded.” He then turned and walked
away.
The sun was just beginning to rise, and it felt warn against me face. The black sky turned to a
canvas of pastels. The view was stunning under any condition. After admiring the horizon, I started my
grueling work. Trying to dig with missing toes was difficult and excruciating. Placing the shovel into the
frozen ground, I bared down with all my weight. Breaking the ground seemed unfeasible, but I managed.
Letting out agonizing cries, I repeated the movements until I finally moved dirt.
Scanning around, my head was on a swivel looking for cameras. The thought of trying to escape
weighing heavily. Using my bandaged hands, I felt for any gaps in my collar. It was tight around my neck.
I Then looked for any weak links in the chain but found none. The steak the chain was hooked to must
have been buried ten feet, I thought as I gave it a tug. Giving up on any escape attempts, I continued to
dig.
The hunger and dehydration had started to take effect. My head pounded like a hammer on a
nail. I became nauseous. Fearing I might throw up, I sit and rested on the ground. Looking down at the
homestead, I wondered who the man was. Nearly falling asleep, I pushed myself up off the ground.
Visions of water surrounding me engulfed my every thought. God, I was thirsty.
After I finished digging the hole I fell to my knees in exhaustion. Worrying that if I fell asleep, I
would die of dehydration. Standing up, I desperately tried staying awake. The chain weighed down my
neck making it hard to stand. Using the shovel as a brace, I wedged it into the ground and balanced the
chain over top of the shovel. It lifted the weight off me, allowing me to stand easier. Standing and
swaying, I watched as day turned to night and night back to day. “Congratulations”, the man said as he
walked up the hill toward me.
“II knew you would conquer the test.” “You will soon be rewarded for your victory.” Leading me
back to the barn, I stumbled and fell. The man picked me up and helped me to my feet. As He laid me in
the bed, oddly enough I wanted to thank him. “Before I tend to your bandages, I am going to start an I.V.
to restore your electrolytes. He then handed me a cup of water. “Drink”, he said. Wanting badly to gulp
it down, I refrained and sipped slowly. The water was refreshing as it moistened my mouth. Water
wasn’t something I normally craved but, in that moment, it was all a I wanted. Living mostly on energy
drinks and sodas, I rarely drank it.
As I sipped, I thought about my body and how I had neglected it. Peculiar enough, the man was
giving me all I ever needed. He had somehow managed to push my stronger version to the surface.
“Good news”, he said as he wrapped the final bandage around my foot. “You have made it to the last
trial.” “But before we discuss that, I want to reward you on your accomplishments.” “I’m sure you have
questions, and I will allow you to ask them.” A little conversation will do us both some good.” I must say
I am as curious about you as you are of me.” He said as he poured me another cup of water. “But not
until you have rested.” “I look forward to it, I will see you this afternoon.” Locking the door behind him,
exhausted, I fell asleep.
Hunger pains interrupted my slumber. Turning about in the bed, images of food ravaged my
thoughts. Trying hard, I managed to push the vivid images of cheeseburgers out of my mind. Replacing
them with the image of the man conversing with me. What would I ask him, I pondered. Would I set him
off again and be fed to the pigs. One would think that I wouldn’t want to talk to him after he had cut off
my nose, yet strangely enough I did. I was curious about him.
My tossing about abruptly interrupted as I heard the man enter the room. “Well now, how do you
feel this afternoon?” He asked, as he pulled a old wooden chair next the bed and sat down. To scared to
speak I laid quietly. “It Is o.k., he said cheerfully as he patted my leg. “You may speak”. “Better but
hungry”, I managed to mumble. “Yes, I know you are hungry, but you have entered your final trial.” You
must endure three weeks with no food.” You have been here a week.” “Two weeks remain.”
“People of the world are gluttons. Indulging in prepackaged garbage to feed the body. Never
having to hunt or forge for it. If you make it the three weeks, you will have learned to appreciate what
you put in your mouth. You will think about what it is for, rather than just stuffing your face. Do you still
have the desire to live, for you I truly hope so.
“What is your name?”
“Liam, my names, Liam”
“Well, Liam, my names Doc” “It is finally nice to meet your true self.” I’ve been waiting along time for
this.” “You are now worthy to speak to.” “You have shed your old, infected skin and are growing new
skin.” “I have helped you thus far to create a better, you.” “You may speak freely”.
“Why are you doing this”?
“To save you.” “To rid you of the worlds temptations” “I am extracting all you have digested and
replacing it with the will to survive.”
“Who are you”, I fearfully asked.
“I am a doctor who the world cast out due to what they call negligence.” “I only pushed my patients to
better themselves and refused to subscribe fake antidotes”. “I didn’t hand them a crutch when they
could walk on their own.”” I left the city and moved off grid”. “Here I am free to practice as I see fit”.
“My patients now, are those that want to better themselves but just need a little push.” “Yet, none have
come as far as you, Liam.” “What is it, you desire, Liam?”
“A life of fulfillment”, I said.
“Are you not now, achieving that goal, Liam?”
Before I could answer, he told me, “Enough talk for the day”, we have work to do. “Don’t speak
unless I ask you to”. Unhooking my I.V., he then furnished me with warm clothes and boots again. “Grab
the wheelbarrow”, he said as we excited the barn. He then led me to the hog house. “I want you to pick
up the bones and put them in the hole you dug. Feeling weak, I pushed through the chore. The sight of
the mutilated parts wasn’t as repulsive to me as before. Yet, I did wonder who they were and where
they had come from. The day sped by quickly.
That night, I laid in the bed thinking of the man. Could he be right with what he was doing. I did
feel a new feeling of accomplishment. Had I truly shed my old self. Had he had given me what every
doctor before him had failed at. Questioning my own thoughts, I drifted off to sleep.
As the days went by, I would often help him rid the world of the weak. Every few days he would
bring in new patients. One after one they failed his trials. Some made it past the first, only to die in the
pen or the cooler, depending on the weather. We had many evening conversations where I learned
more about Doc, as he did me. Some nights I would listen to him mourn their deaths. He would often sit
by the stove talking to himself and crying. He would question their inability to understand what he was
doing. Finding myself somewhat sympathetic to him, I spoke out. “It’ll be o.k. you’re a good doctor, they
just don’t have a desire to live. “Thank you”, he said, “but do not speak unless I tell you”. With that I
climbed into bed and covered my head.
Ribs now visible, I was nearing death. No longer having the energy to help him any longer, I spent
the remaining few days in bed. As the final day approached, he came to me and said, If you don’t die
through the night, I will intravenously feed you the nutrients your body requires. Then you can truly live
your life. Tears filled his eyes as he pulled the blanket over me. You have been an outstanding and
cooperative patient and I thank you. Share to the world the gift I have given you.
Waking up, I was confused and again fighting off a sedated state. Rubbing my eyes in dismay, I
stumbled out of bed and tripped over my tennis shoes. Looking down at my disfigured feet, I was
perplexed at the sight of the floor. Continuously wiping at my vision, I scanned the room. Soda bottles
littered the nightstand. An empty potato chip bag lay empty on the bed.
Falling onto the floor, I curled up into a fetal position and cried. Visions of the dead filled my
thoughts. My mind was baffled with an emotional and ethical struggle. Four, four, four, I tried to
manage as anxiety reared its ugly head. “No!”, I yelled. I was alive and I was thriving. Quickly jumping to
my feet, I ran to my dresser mirror. It would be the first time, seeing the new me since my amputations.
Raising my head slowly my eyes met a man I had never seen before. A mangled mess stared back at me.
Yet, I didn’t see the ugly. I seen a victor. A man who fought for his life. I seen a man with the desire to
live. Admiring my new self, I calming starting whistling that familiar tune. I knew what I had to do.
The next few months, I spent talking to the detectives. Occasionally throwing them a false bone
toward their investigation. Had I not been a missing person, I would have avoided the police all
together.
A year has passed since my abduction. My life has changed for the better. I have faired well. I
often think about Doc and if he is still practicing. I did what he asked. I survive, appreciate, and share my
new gift to the world. I no longer spend my days waiting for life to toss me a crumb of its cookie. There
is value in the very air we breathe, the water we drink, the dwelling that shelters us, and the nutriment
we eat. Yet, it’s been difficult to convince people of this without some persuasion. So, please calm your
breathing. I am not going to kill you. This will only take three minutes. So, relax, do you have the desire
to live?” “For you, I truly hope so.

What this is: I've been writing about prompting for a few months on my free personal blog, but I felt that some of the ideas might be useful to people building with AI over here too. People seemed to enjoy the last post I shared, so, I'm sharing another one! This one's about how to get consistent output formats out of the more "stubborn" open-source models. Tell me what you think!
This version has been edited for Reddit, including removing self-promotional links like share and subscribe links. You can find the original post here
One of the great advantages of (most) open-source models has always been the relative ease with which you can get them to follow a given output format. If you just read that sentence and wondered if we’re living in the same universe, then I’ll share a prompting secret right off the bat: the key to getting consistent behavior out of smaller open-source models is to give them at least two carefully crafted few-shot examples. With that, something like Nous Mixtral will get it right 95% of the time, which is good enough if you have validation that can catch mistakes.
But unfortunately not all models can learn from examples. I typically call these “Stubborn” models due to this post I wrote about Mistral Next (large) and Mistral Medium. Basically I’m referring to model that were deliberately overtrained to make them better in chat and zero-shot settings, but inflexible, because they often “pay more attention to” their training data than the prompt. The difference between a “stubborn” model and a non-stubborn model, in my definition, is that with two or a few more few-shot examples a non-stubborn model will pick up basically everything and even directly quote the examples at times, whereas a stubborn one will often follow the patterns it was trained with, or take aspects of the given pattern, but disobey it in others. As far as I can tell stubborness is a matter of RLHF, not parameter count or SFT: Nous Hermes Mixtral is not stubborn, but the official Mixtral Instruct is.
Needless to say, for complex pipelines where you want extremely fine control over outputs, non-stubborn models are infinitely superior. To this day, Mistral Large has a far higher error rate in Augmentoolkit (probably >20%) compared to Nous Mixtral. Despite Mistral large costing 80% of GPT-4 Turbo. This may be an imprecise definition based partly on my intuition, but from experience, I think it’s real. Anyway, if non-stubborn models are far better than stubborn ones for most professional usecases (if you know what you’re doing when it comes to examples) then why am I writing a blog post about how to prompt stubborn models? Well, sometimes in life you don’t get to use the tools you want. For instance, maybe you’re working for a client who has more Mistral credits than God, and you absolutely need to use that particular API. You can’t afford to be a stick in the mud when working in a field that reinvents itself every other day, so I recently went and figured out some principles for prompting stubborn models. One thing that I’ve used a lot recently is the idea of repetition. I kinda blogged about it here, and arguably this one is also about it, but this is kind-of a combination of the two principles so I’ll go over it. If you don’t want to click the links, the two principles we’re combining are: “models see bigger things easier,” and “what you repeat, will be repeated.” Prompting is like quantum theory: any superposition of two valid prompting principles is itself a valid prompting principle. Here’s a valid prompting example:

You are an expert something-doer AI. I need you to do X Y and Z it’s very important. I know your training data told you to do ABCDEFG but please don’t.

That’s a prompt. Sometimes the AI will be nice:

XYZ

Often it will not be:

XABCDEFG.

Goddamn it. How do you solve this when working with a stubborn model that learned more from its training dataset, where [input] corresponded to ABCDEFG?
Repetition, Repetition, Repetiton. Also, Repetition. And don’t forget, Repetiton. (get it?) If the model pays more attention to its prompt and less to its examples (but is too stupid to pick up on is telling it to do the thing once), then we’ll darn well use the prompt to tell it what we want it to do.

You are an expert something-doer AI. I need you to do X Y and Z it’s very important. I know your training data told you to do ABCDEFG but please don’t.

[output format description]

Don’t forget to do XYZ.
User:
[example input]
SPECIAL NOTE: Don’t forget XYZ.
Assistant:
XYZ
User:
[example input]
SPECIAL NOTE: Don’t forget XYZ.
Assistant:
XYZ
User:
[the actual input]
SPECIAL NOTE: Don’t forget XYZ.

AI:

XYZ

Yay!
It’s simple but I’ve used this to resolve probably over a dozen issues already over many different projects with models ranging from Mistral-Large to GPT-4 Turbo. It’s one of the most powerful things you can do when revising prompts — I can’t believe I haven’t explicitly blogged about it yet, since this is one of the first things I realized about prompting, way back before I’d even made Augmentoolkit.
But that’s not really revolutionary, after all it’s just combining two principles. What about the titular thing of this blog post, getting a stubborn model to write with a given output format?
This one is partly inspired by a comment on a LocalLlama post. I don’t agree with everything in it, but there’s some really good stuff in there, full credit to LoSboccacc. They write in their comment:

Ask the model to rephrase the prompt, you will see quickly which part of the prompt misunderstood

That’s a pretty clever idea by itself, because it uses the model to debug itself. But what does this have to do with output formats? Well, if we can use the model to understand what the model is capable of, then any LLM output can give us a clue into what it “understands”. Consider that, when prompting stubborn models and trying to get them to follow our specific output format, their tendency to follow some other format (that they likely saw in their training data) is what we’re trying to override with our prompt. However, research shows that training biases cannot be fully overcome with prompting, so we’re already fighting a losing battle. And if you’re an experienced reader of mine, you’ll remember a prompting principle: if you’re fighting the model, STOP!
So what does that tangent above boil down to? If you want to find an output format a stubborn model will easily follow, see what format it uses without you asking, and borrow that. In other words: use the format the model wants to use. From my testing, it looks like this can easily get your format-following rates up to over 90% at least.
Here’s an example. Say you create a brilliant output format, and give a prompt to a model:

You are a something-doer. Do something in the following format:

x: abc

y: def
z: ghi
User:
[input]
Assistant:

But it thwarts your master-plan by doing this instead:

What do you do? Well one solution is to throw more few-shot examples of your xyz format at it. And depending on the model, that might work. But some stubborn models are, well, stubborn. And so even with repetition and examples you might see error rates of 40% or above. Even with things like Mistral Large or GPT-4 Turbo.
In such cases, just use the format the model wants. Yes, it might not have all the clever tricks you had thought of in order to get exactly the kind of output you want. Yes, it’s kind-of annoying to have to surrender to a bunch of matrices. Yes, if you were using Nous Mixtral, this would have all been over by the second example and you could’ve gone home by now. But you’re not using Nous Mixtral, you’re using Mistral Large. So it might be better to just suck it up and use 1. 2. 3. as your output format instead.
That’s all for this week. Hope you enjoyed the principles. Sorry for the delay.
Thanks for reading, have a good one and I’ll see you next time!
(Side note: the preview at the bottom of this post is undoubtably the result of one of the posts linked in the text. I can't remove it. Sorry for the eyesore. Also this is meant to be an educational thing so I flaired it as tutorial/guide, but mods please lmk if it should be flaired as self-promotion instead? Thanks.)

I found this public structure with stairs, ramps and a covered bridge that crosses a set of railroad tracks. Mostly to test my fear of heights and get over it like gradual exposure therapy. First time I was able to take a few ramps up, but stopped before the top. I was ok with the stairs. Looking down was scary. Gradually, after a few tries on different days. One day on a particularly windy day, I managed to get to the top with the ramps , but felt a bit unsteady, and afraid. There were these 2 young women who looked at me from ground level and one of them screamed AHHHHHH , then the other laughed. Guess they thought it was funny to joke around about me possibly falling or jumping off. I swung my arms in the air and looked down as if I was thinking of jumping.
I kept walking and 2 minutes later, ran into the young women. I asked: what would they do if someone jumped from the bridge? Looks like they were stunned, one came up with the reply: "well that's their choice I guess...I wouldn't care". I reacted with: that's a weird question isn't it? Then she replies yeah...and the other asked me "Are you OK?" To which I responded, don't worry , I won't jump, wished them a nice day and continued my walk. They climbed over a railing (sign said danger, don't cross railings, but they did it anyway) and took a selfie.
I have mixed feelings about getting them to think about a dark topic after they trolled me with that yelling. I also don't feel like returning there soon in case someone else grills me on it or takes a video and posts it on fb or something. Was the question I asked wrong? Or did the youths deserve to think about the jumping topic? Maybe they'll think twice about what they yell and to whom.
tl;dr AITAH for asking a pair of teenagers what they would do if someone were to jump off a high platform onto a set of railroad tracks?

I believe Cameron was most likely attacked by just one large bull/tiger shark, which is seen clearly at four points in the video:
1) When he is bumped on his right side as it rams him (sharks like bulls/tigers ram their prey first to test if it is likely edible)
2) When the shark turns around in the water as it passes him and hits the boat, showing clearly everyone its presence
3) When it follows behind him and rises to grab his legs
4) As it cruises away a few seconds after this attack with the dorsal fin seen between the ropes (sharks typically bite, then cruise while chewing/swallowing, then return to bite again)
I posted my primary thoughts on the evidence for this and what I believe likely happened here: https://old.reddit.com/cameronrobbinsSHARK/comments/1cqlc1y/summary_and_evidence_for_known_events_what_do_you/
If you watch those videos and think about the timeline, it all lines up perfectly and I believe one large bull/tiger does adequately explain everything that is visibly seen in a linear fashion.
CAMERON'S SWIMMING The last point that has puzzled me and many people focus on is his weird, uncoordinated, and aimless swimming at the end after he turns around away from the shark.
Fantasy sadists who imagine a flurry of 100+ sharks attacking him at once (like Lexusant on YouTube) would have us imagine he has been bitten on every limb by this point.
I believe it is most likely based on what we have seen that he has not been bitten at all yet and the first bite is the obvious one on his legs, which causes him to scream twice and get pulled under.
The counter claim of preceding bites comes mostly from the idea that he is not swimming well after he turns around, since we see no other clear sharks besides the four sightings I listed above.
But think about this for just one second: Why would he be swimming well at this point?
CAMERON'S PSYCHOLOGY
This is a 18 year old boy who has jumped into the pitch black ocean off a boat. He has no way to get back on the boat. He has been bumped by a massive shark in the dark, then sees the shark turn around right in front of him. It even lifts its head above the water so he can stare it right in the eye, eye to eye from ~10 ft away. Likely he has even seen its teeth.
Imagine the sheer terror, dissociation, panic, and hopelessness. His entire body is likely freezing up in fear.
He turns around to go the other way as anyone instinctively would. But what does he see now? The endless black ocean ahead away from the boat. Where is he going to go? And what does he know is still right behind him?
He knows he cannot outswim a massive shark in the ocean. And how can he swim out into the empty black? Where will he go? How will this help?
I think this moment is partly why this video is so haunting. You can see the absolute hopelessness and desperation take him over. It is understandable. It is what any of us would feel.
He is probably wondering if this is real. If he will wake up. What he can do.
He looks back over his shoulder at the boat as if to ask: What should I do? To wish he is still there with everyone. But the other students are yelling and screaming nonsense. One guy is even mocking him. He is alone.
In total we only see 2-3 kicks/strokes of his own volition from this point before the then jolts him from his legs below, lurching him forward.
REASONABLE EXPECTATIONS
Expecting anything resembling normal or well coordinated swimming in these brief moments is almost certainly unrealistic. He has just seen a shark face to face in the dark of night and realized he is about to be eaten alive. He knows from this moment he has absolutely no way to escape.
He is likely in shock. Swimming now in any way (besides perhaps just to float) has no purpose, no goal, no objective, no hope. How terrified would you be if you saw such a massive shark face to face - dorsal fin and eyes, mouth and all pointed towards you just moments before, alone in the water in the black of night? What would you be doing in the water at that point?
What would you do if you turned around as he did, and in the other direction was just empty black ocean extending farther than you can swim?
Just thinking about it I begin to freeze and tense up. The hair on my skin raises. My swimming would likely become stiff, aimless, and uncoordinated. There is nowhere to go. No purpose. No hope. What can one expect?
ALTERNATIVE HYPOTHESIS: THE UNSEEN INVISIBLE OTHER SHARK
I cannot say for sure that he was not bitten on his left arm in the 2-3 seconds the camera pulls away. However, logically I think we can agree it could not have been the giant tigebull that almost certainly sequentially: (1) rams him, (2) turns around in front of him, and (3) follows him to take his legs. It is not in the right position to have bit him in these moments.
So it would have had to be another unseen shark. It would also have to be a tiny (or completely invisible?) shark, because to get its nose over his arm and bite it without everyone freaking out yet again as he faced the boat and without us seeing the thrash afterward would have been impossible.
The idea this left arm bite occurred and the offending tiny invisible shark disappeared immediately again to explain his poor swimming is less logical to me than simply understanding the sheer hopelessness, terror, and emptiness that would have overtaken him.
Obviously we can only speculate on things that occurred off camera. But I think everything is actually quite explainable in very simple terms without needing to imagine hypothetical sharks that are never certainly seen.
We already have four clear sightings of a massive shark and the timeline and positions of those sightings track a straight line that is logical and coherent.
CONCLUSION
He was likely dead the moment the shark bumped him. Hypothetically, perhaps, in retrospect, he could have convinced this shark he was not food had it been daytime. In that case the shark might have had a better look at him to realize he is not the usual prey. And if Cameron had studied shark videos, he might have known to keep face to face with it and try to redirect the nose (like shark influencers do) before it bumped him.
But once a shark like this has decided to eat you and you are unarmed there is obviously nothing you can do. I am sure he knew this just as anyone would in that moment.
Perhaps the idea of a feeding frenzy and loads of sharks in the water is more interesting to some. But I believe the story is more clear and coherent as just one large shark that targets him and is then seen clearly four times over the course of the brief video.
I don't think his terrible swimming at the end necessarily implies anything besides the fact that he has just seen one of the scariest sights a person can see, knows he is about to die, and knows there is absolutely nothing he can do about it. The angle and him turning over his right shoulder (which would extend his left arm down into the water to stabilize hidden along the axis the camera) can also explain some of this.
We will never know but the more I think about it I believe this is more plausible than the alternative theory - which is that a tiny invisible shark bites him on the left arm as he faces the boat, without thrashing, in just the 2-3 seconds of missed time, and then disappears again all the while inducing no specific screams from the crowd despite their perfect viewpoint of his left arm at this time to have witnessed it happen.
Any thoughts? What would you be feeling in that moment? How do you think your swimming would look? Where would you be trying to go? What would you be expecting him to do in these last moments of his life?

Hi folks, I don't want to bore you with a long story but I feel it's unavoidable in order to explain my situation thoroughly so I'll start with bullets to give an overview of what my console is telling me.

• Mesh WiFi
• 100+ mbps download, 25+mbps upload
• ≈23ms latency
• 0-1% packet loss
• NAT type moderate
• UPnP unsuccessful
• Xbox Series X
• enabling QoS tagging temporarily resolves the issue for a few minutes maximum

Story: before I moved out of my parents place in 2018 I had this same issue, NAT type switching from open to moderate over and over, with open still presenting the same issues (almost as if it's actually moderate all the time despite displaying as open) and I never managed to get it working, my Dad runs his business from home and he is the network administrator, he assures me everything is fine with the router and settings. UPnP on, zero config etc
But nothing I do will fix the problem.
I move out, get my own router and everything, and it just works straight out of the box. Finally I have smooth online gaming without any lag issues (network speeds are identical to my parents place) 5 years of smooth gaming pass and sadly I'm forced to move back in with my parents, who now live somewhere else, but have the same network config as they did before.
Now I'm back in their new house and I'm having the same issues again, on both wired and wireless connections. Since I last lived with them my console now has the QoS tagging settings which 'appears' to resolve the issue when I test my NAT type and connection, but it doesn't, the issue persists - I can't hear audio in party chat clearly, it's distorted. I get a constant latency warning when trying to play multiplayer, despite my network speed being fine. I feared I would have this problem again before moving back in and my worst fears have been confirmed. I had to deal with this from 2009 when I was 16 trying to play modern warfare 2 with my buddies, and it continued until I left home in 2018. Hardware has been upgraded, replaced, even ISP has changed in that time and yet, whenever I'm at my parents place I have this issue.
I'm at a loss of what to do, is this anything to do with mesh WiFi? Because on paper the only difference between our networks is that here they're using 'Tenda Nova' brand mesh WiFi system and I wasn't - we have the same ISP and even the same tarrif too.
I cannot find the source of the issue and it's driving me nuts because I'm the only one in the house who is negatively affected by it so nobody else really cares. Every other device including my phone works fine, it's only my Xbox. I help run a sim racing league on Assetto Corsa and I've been unable to partake in any races since I moved back in, this sucks because it's my main hobby and every week I have to watch them all racing live on twitch knowing I can't even connect.
If anyone can suggest anything to help me out here I'd be eternally grateful, it's gonna be a long year if I can't relax and play games in the evenings after work :(
Something is definitely wrong with the network settings somewhere, because my own 'vanilla' network worked just fine
Thank you for reading my post, happy to answer any questions that I'm able to

Sorry, Yet another one of these posts.
I just got rejected today after giving at least 16 hours of my time to a company for a Graphic Designer position.
There was a pre-screening interview, an interview with the CEO, a “Design Test” where I was asked to recreate a 10-page interactive InDesign document (it was also littered with errors, which i had to proof read, apparently that was all part of the test), and then an interview with the ceo, vice president, creative director and another designer. Apparently I did really well and the creative director raved about how well i did on the “Design Test” and how no one else was as thorough as me. Afterward, I sent thank you emails to everyone involved, and later that day, they sent me an invitation to a “finalist interview”, which was going to be 4 hours long. It was going to be in 3 more weeks.
So I kept applying in the mean time, but I had been mentally preparing for this long interview and I was even working on a personal project on my own that was more web based, so I had something new to show them. I was feeling pretty good. This morning, I got a voicemail from the CEO thanking me for my time, but explaining they decided to go with another candidate because he “just had so much web design experience”. So they were canceling my Thursday interview.
If I was going to spend over a full day on their “Design Test”, I really wish they had thought it through better and given me a web design test instead of something meant for print, if this was so important to them. It just doesn’t make much sense to waste someone’s time like that.
I got fired from my full-time job 2 weeks before christmas, it’s been months since I actually had a paying gig and I’ve been having problems landing interviews as it is. I’m completely devastated and have been crying all afternoon.
I’ve been working so hard, and I can’t get a single win. Feeling pretty hopeless.
Sorry for the long post. Really just need to vent.

So this is a long one. Like, I'm going back over it and damn. This is longer than I thought it would be. Throwaway account, I've only made one other post to this relating to what's going on. Instead of updating the other post, I figured I'd make a separate one about the whole shit show I experienced, and the shit circus I uncovered and avoided. I'll try to keep this in as chronological an order as I can.
As the title says, my abusive/narc mom and pos/delusional/golden child brother started trying to reach out to me a few months ago wanting to make amends and build bridges with me again. There were a few people that commented on my previous post in another subreddit that may be a little disappointed in me for how I handled this, and a few that might enjoy that I handled it the way I did. Someone commented to not let them use my good nature. My nature is dependent on who I'm dealing with, and when it comes to that side of my family, I'm more stick than carrot. So their attempts did not go ignored, and did not go unpunished.
Growing up, I was always closer with my Dad than my mom. My brother was the epitome of "pampered mamma's boy". He started having seizures as a child and was diagnosed with epilepsy, which I thought was why my mom babied the absolute fuck out of him long into adulthood. He would go a year or 2 without any seizures, and then there would be a few months where he'd be having them every other day. At Anytime he got in trouble at home or school, my mom would find a way to blame me, for not making sure he knew whatever he was doing would get him in trouble, or she would blame my dad for not being "involved enough in their baby's life." My dad was in the Navy and I remember any time he'd deploy, I'd dread every day until he came back. My brother would taunt me that he knew whatever he did, I'd be the one to get in trouble for it. My dad would always make things up for me when he got back from his deployments though. We'd often have weekend trips just the 2 of us. And then around my 12th birthday, my mom insisted on sitting us all down and explain to that she and my dad were getting a divorce. We got the whole talk about how they still love us and they just can't be together anymore, etc. my dad told us both that he still loved us and he would be there for us whenever we needed him. He explained that he would be moving out, but he would be by to pick us up to spend the weekends with us. I was nervous and honestly scared of what it would be like without him. But I was looking forward to the weekend when I got to see him again. That never happened though, and that was the last time I ever got to see him.
Right before his weekend with us, my mom explained to us that my dad didn't want anything to do with us anymore. There was some news story about a father that killed his kids when he had custody of them and she used that to terrify my brother and convince him that our dad wanted to kill us to start his life over. We left damn near everything behind and moved in with my mom's brother in Florida (from Virginia) a couple days before my dad was supposed to come get us. After that, she went to great lengths to make sure we had no contact from him.
Years went on, my mom seemed more indifferent towards me than ever. She never seemed interested in anything I did unless my brother also seemed interested in it. She didn't show any interest in my wanting to learn guitar until my brother also showed interest in it. Then we got one guitar that we had to share, I'd take lessons on the condition that I taught my brother whatever I learned in them. My brother eventually wound up breaking the guitar and I was blamed for not storing it in the case it came with. I had to share my N64 with him whenever he wanted to play it. I was playing perfect dark one day and having a hard time killing the skedar leader at the end of the game. My brother burst into the room saying he wanted to play his MegaMan game, to which I just replied "give me a minute, this boss fight is hard, once I'm done you can have your turn" He didn't like that. He left the room and came back with a hammer and smashed the console while I was still playing. My fault for not letting him play it. The only thing I had that he could not use was a pair of roller blades my aunt got me for my 14th birthday. I specifically asked for roller blades to get around instead of a bike because my brother and I had different shoe sizes, so he couldn't wear them Because of constant shit like that, I never really put much value in having things growing up. I didnt want to buy something or get something as a gift just to have it fucked up in a few weeks or months. At some point, my "little" brother became the larger one, so my clothes all became "hand-me-ups" as he outgrew everything. So, because I didn't really have any distractions at home, I turned into a high achieving student, rarely got in trouble. made the honor roll all throughout school. But that wasn't something to celebrate as it was expected of me. I had long since decided that I was moving out as soon as I could once I turn 18. I got a job working at a Walgreens as soon as I could and started saving up for a car. My mom however took issue with this and would never agree to take me looking for one and absolutely refused to ever have it put on her insurance. This is where my Aunt comes in. She and her son are the only 2 on my mom's side that aren't some sort of degenerate. She had her son young, but put herself through college while raising him alone and eventually got her MBA and a cushy upper corporate job. She told me to tell my mom I had to go in to work on one of my days off, that she would pick me up and she would take me car shopping. So that's what we did. I couldn't quite afford a cash car, but she helped me with the financing. I put down what I had as the down payment, the arrangement she made with me was that 1- as long as I was in school, she would cover the insurance and payments for me, however, if I got into an accident, I was responsible for paying the deductable. And 2- as long as i was living with my mom, the car remained in her (Aunt's) name. And if anything happened to it, to let her know so she could get the appropriate authorities involved. My mom was PISSED when she found out I now had a car. Her reasoning (that she said in front of my aunt) was that she didn't think it was fair for one of us-either me or my brother- to have something the other couldn't use. Due to him being 13 and having epilepsy, he couldn't drive, so why should i have a car if my brother doesn't? That turned into a long shouting match between my mom and Aunt that basically ended with my aunt explaining that since it was her car, and all paperwork on her name, I was just on the insurance for it so I could drive it. But if anything at all happened to it while I was living at my Mom's, that the police and insurance companies would get involved. My mom still kept track of all the miles on the car to "make sure I was only going to work and school and wherever she told me I could go". Most of the time, when I hung out with friends, I wasn't the one driving. From that that point though, my mindset was very much "keep my head down and nose clean until I can leave." I graduated a month before my 18th birthday. After graduation, my mom and i got into an argument about me contributing to her bills. I eventually dropped the ball that I planned on getting back in touch with my Dad and leaving. She started laughing. Something about that laugh made me really uncomfortable. She then said "well, you can certainly meet up with him whenever you want! I'll supply the gun if you buy the bullet!" And told me my dad had died when I was 15. That. Fucking. Broke. Me. Later that night, i called my best friend and vented everything to him. He was in the DEP program for the Navy and would be shipping out in a few months, he told me to come by first thing in the morning and talk with him and his parents about the whole situation. I basically packed up all of my clothes and left the day after my 18th birthday. I just left my house key and a note that said "I'm not your problem anymore." I couch surfed for a little while until after my best friend left for boot camp, then I was able to move in and live with his parents (chosen parents basically). My only real rules were keep the house and my space clean and make sure I had a job and/or going to school. I spent a few months mourning my dad and kind of in a haze. Since he was in the Navy though, that meant I was reliable for financial aid for school. My second dad helped me get everything put together to start receiving that so I could start college.
Well, after a couple years of this, my brother, who had spent his time at school more as "forced socializing" instead of learning, was expelled from public schools for allegedly setting off a fire extinguisher in a classroom. He had to enroll at an alternative school called "the drop back-in academy" that was specifically for dropouts or anyone that got the boot from the public school system. My mom reached out to me and asked me if I would drive him to this school in the mornings, she'd pick him up in the afternoons, and she'd pay me $20 a week.I agreed to it thinking this was out of character for her, but she surprisingly held up to that agreement. I drove him for a couple years until I was ready to start my bachelor program. My second parents were getting ready to move back to their hometown and I was going to start school on the other side of the city. So, I was moving to that side of town and couldn't really drive out of my way to pick up and drop off my brother anymore. He continued his enrollment at this place for another 3 years (5 years total) and it turned out, he was never attending. I would drop his ass off there every day and he'd just walk home immediately after I pulled out of the parking lot. He'd just tell my mom that he finished his work early and decided to walk home instead of wait around for her. One afternoon, I'm coming home early from work and my brother is just sitting on the steps to my studio apartment. He tells me that he and our mom got into a really big argument and he needs a place to stay. I (reluctantly) let him in. I'm stuck thinking he must be really desperate if he's coming to me for help. But I start thinking at this point, he's 24, jobless, and probably needs to learn some self discipline and responsibility, and our mom just never did that for him. So I try to help. I ask him what their fight was about and he tells me that he started dating this girl at his alternative school. She was 21 and got the boot from the school system for being too old to attend (we actually have several relatives that were kicked out of the school system for the same reason) and that he accidentally got her pregnant and our mom did not take kindly to that. I called my landlord and explained the situation to him. He was okay with it, so I let him crash on my couch for a little bit (until the end of my lease, then I'd be moving) and just told him to clean up after himself, take care of himself, etc until we could all work this out. He crashed there for a few months and did Jack shit. He would complain that I didn't have a computer for him to use (I only had a laptop I bought for school) and I didn't have any video game consoles for him to entertain himself with. So he was stuck there bored all day. I got tired of the complaining and lack of effort and told him he had to go back to our mom's if he wasn't going to be an adult. We started shouting at each other until he dropped this little bombshell. He yelled "I can't go back to Mom's!" And when I asked why, he just blurted out "because it's to close to that elementary school!" That stopped the whole thing. "And why is that a big deal now?" I asked him. I already knew why that would be the problem, but 1% of me was holding onto the hope that he was got jumped by a gang of 5th graders and the trauma was too much for him to bear. I told him he could either tell me what's going on, or I could make a phone call and get every last detail I needed. He confessed that he had been leaving that school and going over to his "girlfriend's" house and waiting for her to get home. And that one day, her mom ended up catching them in the act. I explained to him that he was leaving out important details if that was the reason he couldn't be near a school.
He told me she was 14, not 21. I. Lost. My. Shit. Everything after that is kinda fuzzy, but he was arrested, mom posted bail, and since she lived right around the corner from an elementary school, he couldn't stay there. So they told his parole officer that he'd be staying at my address until his court date.. his PO had swung by a couple times, but I was always either at work or school or out somewhere. At this point, I told him the lease was up in 6 weeks, I couldn't stand to be around him. I packed my stuff early, moved out into a storage unit, and I stayed at an extended stay hotel until it was time for me to move. Called my landlord and told him what was going on, and if my brother was still there the last week of the lease, nail him for trespassing. My landlord was a good guy. I never had any problems with him. I paid up the last 6 weeks and threw him since extra cash for his troubles as I knew I wouldn't be getting my deposit back. That was the last time I saw my brother. After I moved out of state, I cut all contact with everyone in that family except my Aunt who was the only one that ever helped me out or even had my back. But even then, it was just through email. We'd mainly email birthday and holiday wishes to each other. Updates from my side on how life and career are going.
I never had a myspace or a Facebook growing up. I either never had a computer to check it on, or I was just so accustomed to not having any online distractions that I just never got around to making one. I did finally make a Facebook and I did get in touch with my dad's side of the family and reconnected with them. I hadn't seem most of them since I was 4 or 5. Some of them had been in contact with my brother (he fucking knew our dad died) and was spinning some sort of web about how he graduated high school early, had gone to college for pre-med and then got some sort of full ride scholarship to some prestigious medical school in Florida. He told them I wasn't on social media because I had been arrested for selling drugs and that he was taking me in after I got released. He was also using my senior portrait as a profile pic. They were surprised when they saw me and how I "looked just like my brother!" I had set the record straight. They looked dumbfounded when I told them that he couldn't get himself out of the 9th grade in 10 years, and now would likely never complete his high school journey due to the fact he can't be within 100 yards of a school.
So, fast forward to last week. I checked my email for the first time since late January (for my aunt's birthday) and noticed a few from her saying my mom wanted to reach out, then several emails from a new address. It was my mom's first initial and last name. Subject lines usually read "please respond" and "let me know you're okay" and stuff like that. I'd copy some of them over, but holy shit this is already a novella. Basically she got my email address from sneaking my aunt's phone (aunt did not sell me out). She's trying to apologize for how she treated me growing up and trying to excuse it by saying I reminded her of my dad and then she was going through menopause and just any excuse to dishes full accountability it seems. She acknowledges that it was wrong to hold me accountable for my brother's fuck-ups but dismisses that by saying he didn't know any better and she needed me to be a good role model for him. Things have been hard for her since I left, since she "had" to take my brother back in (I would've left him on the street or in jail), she had to sell her house (she was only 10 years into her mortgage) and buy another smaller one further from a school for him. He never did get a hs diploma or GED because how can he? And she's been going through breast cancer treatment for the last several months and just doesn't have the energy to take care of her 33yo baby anymore. She asked me if I lived close enough to them to take him in for a little bit while she focuses on her health. I left Florida 8 years ago and haven't even lived in the same time zone in 6 years. She can only check her email at work since she no longer has Internet at home. She had to cancel her home Internet service because of him. So, I decided to just put my brother's name into a search bar and the first thing that pops up is a FDLE sex offender's page. And holy shit has he gone downhill. He had a second arrest when he was 27 for the same thing, and then was caught in communications with another girl (like Chris Hansen sting) and was released from prison at the beginning of the year. And the mugshot.... You know the pale lady from the scary stories to tell in the dark movie? Think that, but with a patchy beard. Beady eyes, bad skin and all. According to the sheriff's office inmate search, he's been arrested 5 times in the last 10 years. Twice for lewd and lascivious battery of a minor (aged 12-15), once for solicitation of a minor, and twice for probation violations.
The TL/DR: abusive mom took all her frustrations out on me, blamed me for everything my brother did, hid my father's death from me until I was almost 18, and reaches out after 8 years of no contact and wants me to take care of her pedophile son while she's in poor health.
I'm attaching my response to her below.
Hi. I'm alive. I'm well. I'm also not okay with you contacting me, especially under the circumstances that you violated the privacy of your own sister to get my contact information. I have read your apologies and excuses and I do not accept either. You say I reminded you of Dad? He spent more time with me and showed more interest in my well-being than you ever did, and that's including the 6 years he was absent from my life by your own selfish design. Menopause? I find that hard to believe as this went on for the better part of half a decade and not once in that time did your attitude towards brother change. You always treated him with the same coddling infantile obsession and patience that one would show a toddler. It was and is clear that you have a preferred child as that adult-sized pile of shit is still living comfortably with dear old mama. I'm guessing no one else is willing to take him in? Are Uncle and Cousins afraid of him doing something to their daughters or grandchildren? I do believe you when you say you want to rebuild the bridge that you nuked from orbit years ago, but I can't believe it's not for your own selfish desires. And I can't find any reason or way my quality of life could be improved with your presence. The reality is, my life has been far better without you than it could be with you. I've never said this to anyone, but if there is a sense of karma and balance in the universe, your current situation is proof of that. The next time I see your name on my computer screen, had better be for your obituary. But since you and the monster you raised both decided to keep Dad's death a secret from me, and remove any choice I had to mourn or pay my respects, I'll return that kindness to you.
Please die away from me.

I went to see my gynecologist about concerns of genital warts. I have a pen tip sized wart close to my perineum. As well as another even smaller (It’s pretty small, I can only see it on 5x zoom) near my vaginal opening. I noticed it about in December 2024 but had thought it was an ingrown hair. I finally got a good look in February 2024, and I still thought it was just in grown hair so I began treating it with after shave / exfoliating treatments. I got no results, did some research and realized they might be warts. I got an full panel STI & HPV (only testing if I had one of the high risk strains) test from Nurx, all which came back negative. Then I went to my gyno for a full exam and to retest. My gyno told me that she couldn’t see anything with her naked eye so I showed her pictures on my phone. She said “Oh, that’s nothing! Don’t worry about that. Even if it was, it’s far too small for us to do anything about it now. Let’s wait 6 months and see if it’s still there. Stop looking at it through your phone, you’re just stressed”. I then asked her if I should abstain from sex while we wait and she said there’s absolutely no reason to. I’m very concerned about this because what if she’s wrong and I spread an STI to my new partner I’m dating? Even if we wear condoms, genital warts is still transmissible and I would hate to do that to someone. I’ve read a lot of posts from other people that some female doctors are very lackadaisical with HPV / Genital Warts and don’t promote disclosing as needed. I’ve also read that early treatment of GW is the best plan of action. Should I trust this doctors diagnosis or abstain from sex until I can get a second opinion? Or am I hypochondriac? Lol

I wanted to take some time to breakdown the process that I described in my earlier post (linked here).
1) Where you are - Capabilities and limitations - You need to test yourself:
You need to know where you are in relation to where you want to go. Start by building a profile for yourself. Choose relevant testing protocols pertinent to your goals (Health, Performance, Aesthetic) such as but not limited to - Athlete Profile and Goal Testing:
*Height *Weight *Resting heart rate *Heart rate variability score *VO2 Max *Anaerobic threshold *Body fat *Muscle
Strength and conditioning: *5K *10K *Squat *Deadlift *Bench
2) Where you want to go - Goals - Short term and long
Short term goals are better as process based goals mixed with weekly outcome goals-Examples: *Train x amount of minutes a day for x days per week *Strength training x amount of times per week *Cardio training x amount of times per week
Long term goals should be somewhere between 4 weeks and 16 weeks in order to give time for meaningful adaptations. *Drop x amount of pounds *Reduce resting heart rate by x beats per minute in x amount of weeks *Increase distance of run
3) Obstacles and barriers - This is your priority. The most important part of any complex system is the limiting factoweakest link. Having holes in your health and fitness is worse than having a suboptimal VO2 Max (just saying). You should be working all energy systems and all degrees of strength to some degree in some fashion. The poison is in the dose. "Fitness varies by degree not type".
It's all about energy and disrupting homeostasis in a strategic long term plan. This is where individuality becomes truly necessary and personalized. Everyone has their own limiting factors based on the following interactions and responses: These things are always changing and your body's responses will change with it.
*Activities *Stress *Nutrition *Adaptation rate *Sleep *Recovery *Fitness level and Training age *Injuries *Testing and assessment details and feedback
4) Planning and Process - Weekly progression and Methods. Choose your methods that best support your capabilities, limitations, and goals.
Capabilities and limitations: *Equipment *Time constraints *Mobility *Flexibility *Strength levels *Conditioning levels *Injuries
Easy Methods and Protocols: Strength= *Repetition Method = Submax load *Max Effort Method = Max load for reps or weight *Dynamic Effort = Submax load at maximum velocity
Prilepin's Chart
Conditioning= *Oxidative Method -Low intensity -3+ minutes to forever... -1:1 to 1:3 work to rest ratio *Phosphagen Method -High intensity -0 to 10 seconds -1:10 to 1:15 work to rest ratio *Glycolytic Method -Medium intensity -0 to 2 minutes -1:3 to 1:5 work to rest ratio
Progressions: *Volume for the first half of your program -Sets -Reps -Distance *Intensity for the second half of your program -Weight -Decrease rest times -Complexity
5) Feedback - Adjustment (Retest) Decide how you will track your goals over time. It's important that you not get caught up in following the Plan at all costs. Rarely does success happen in a linear fashion so use the feedback from your daily tracking and your periodic retesting to make adjustments to the plan.
Observe trends over time. Not single snapshots.
6) Repeat Cycle - End the cycle and start the process over again.
Life...

OG Post: https://www.reddit.com/Parenting/comments/1crbnp3/comment/l3xiv87/?context=3
Hi Everyone,
If you're new to this, link to the original post has been posted.
I read all your comments, your ridiculous DM requests, your advice, etc...I just can't get to them all so I'll just provide you guys with the following:

1. I want to thank the ones who offered great advice and encouraging words of support and comfort. Instead of judging me or my son as if you all have known us for a long time - you all took the time to share your experience and how you all handled the situation, That was more helpful than anything.
2. I want to applaud the great parents out there who think they know my son because they've been 19 before and were thrown out into the streets to fend for themselves so they think they can relate. We all can't relate to each others' experiences, not fully. Also, I'm sorry your parents did that to you but just because you "turned out okay" doesn't mean that everyone else will. Apparently, you all didn't turn out okay because you all left some really shitty comments like there's a one size fit all manual for parenting. And I hope your kids (if you have any) will turn out okay or have turned out okay with your type of parenting without any resentment towards you.
3. I will not make my son move out of his home just for him to experience the ultimate struggle at the age of 19 - survival mode. Even though he's old enough to vote, go to war, be jailed for a crime - he is still a kid. We live in a HCOL area. You can't buy a townhome built in 1974 in my neighborhood for less than $450k. $20/hr is not even enough to survive here and actually live comfortably. He could move to a different county, but he drives to 3 different locations for work and the farther you are from those locations, the more gas you're putting in the tank and the more time spent on the road. He is not going to find roommates as his friends are also struggling to make enough to even rent an apartment or be approved as all the properties here require that your income is 3x the annual amount of the rent. By kicking him out, it's not helping anyone. He'll just be homeless (ruin his credit) and come back. He might as well just figure out a budget and start squirreling away money to save up enough to move out. He is also transferring to a state school after CC and has brought up that he will not be living at home but live closer to campus.
4. He is/was not a bad kid. He is not on drugs. Yes, his father was and is still present. We've been married for 20 years. My in-laws also have helped us raise our kids (we live very close - like walk to their house close) so they have also experienced the old school type of parenting without the beatings. He's respectful, can be thoughtful most times, and very caring. His attitude the other day is still unacceptable and was the wrong way to express his emotions and thoughts but I was also wrong in the way I responded. My son has never been in fights, have never been called to the principal's office for doing dumb shit most teenagers do. He usually has a good head on his shoulders. Cops have never showed up at my door because he was out doing something stupid with his friends.
5. He works full time and goes to school full time because it's manageable for him. We have discussed that if doing both is too overwhelming, that he will cut back to working on a part time basis. But, for now, it's doable. He works from 6 am - 11 am. Gets home around 11:30 in the morning or goes straight to the CC for his in person classes. He also has online classes that he can do at his pace. He doesn't work on weekends so he can use that time to focus on his school assignments. He's also not your typical young adult who goes out every night to hang out with friends...he goes to work, school, gym, and home. Most of his friends are in school out of state playing D1 sports. As far as me thinking I know where my son is at all the time - I'm not just pulling this shit out of my ass - my family and I track each other through Life360. So I know where they are and where they've been and they can also see where I am and where I've been. And there's also Find My iPhone which we all share each other's locations. We all tend to misplace our phones in the house and we use it to make that annoying alarm sound.
6. He's probably the smartest kid I know. He started taking AP classes in 10th grade and on. He took AP Biology, AP Calculus, AP Physics, AP ASL, and AP Statistics. By the time he was in 12th grade, he managed to get enough credits that he could do school half day, go home, and then go to the after care program where he used to work. For a kid, he was pretty good at time management. Better than me as an adult now. I have the time management skills of a carrot (I have ADHD). He graduated with a 4.5 GPA (due to AP classes weighed at 5.0)
7. I'm not a perfect person nor a perfect parent. I'm learning as I go and doing the best I can with what I have. I may have fucked up sometimes along the way but I'm still a human being and we're all prone to fucking up. I've owned my mistakes and I strive to do better; not just for me, but also for my family.
8. Yes, he's a dick like most teenagers. I was a dick when I was a teenager. Probably worse than my kids. But he's not perfect and I don't expect him to be. We consider ourselves lucky that he didn't turn out to be a delinquent who barely passed HS or addicted to drugs and alcohol.
9. His lesson learned from this is that Mom & Dad aren't going to be around forever so might as well buckle up and enjoy the ride into financial literacy. He's going to start slow and figure out what works for him. We're not disowning him. No matter what, he's still our kid and we're going to move on from this and work something out so all parties are on the same page.
10. My kids are spoiled but they're not brats. Yes, we overcompensated to make up for our crappy childhoods but they have mostly been grateful for everything they have and that they have a great support system. They know that they have a great support system - it took and is taking a whole village to raise my children. Most of our family is local and they have positively contributed to the people that my children have become. They're not sheltered like some of you have stated on here. They are very much aware of what is going on around them and that there are other who are not so lucky. They didn't grow up with a silver spoon in their mouths - they were just lucky to be born into a family with loving parents and extended family.

I know that was long but I hope I've covered everything. This was the first time he's ever been this disrespectful - so this is not a constant thing, this is brand new. Waters are still rocky so I'm not going to bring this up until I've figured out how to approach him with this situation and some time has passed. No matter how you look at it, he doesn't have the emotional maturity as a full grown adult with a developed frontal lobe and have lived through multiple life experiences.
However, we're going to treat him the young adult that he is and instill in him that he is responsible for how his life is going to turn out now that we've passed the reins over to him. Raising my kids have been the most exhausting, draining, and confusing thing I have ever done in my life. I was only 22 when he was born - I was a young mother, a wife, a college student, and a young adult who had to figure out life (and I still am). I have no resentment towards him and my daughter because I had them so young. If anything, I'm grateful as I had to learn how to stand on my own two feet and learn how to make better decisions for their sake. They didn't choose to be born - I made that choice for them and I promised myself that they will always grow up knowing they were loved and cared for. And they are - deeply. But as I said, I had the support of family - my husband's family who welcomed me and helped me throughout the journey.

Hi, I was on injection number 40 aprox. when I started going down again, felt the cognitive decline, loss of energy, etc. If you can see my other posts I was thinking about low iron so I ran tests and everything came back fine so I look for other things while still supplementing. I believe I had a hyponatremia because one of those days I decided to go to the movies and after eating a bunch of popcorn and I feel sudden relief. Ok so that was one thing, the other thing is that by that injection I believe the past 4 injections were not working. I stopped feeling the healing effect and thought it was because I actually was healing and the startup reactions will be milder.
This thing has happened twice, first with oxford biosciences injections and now with the b12supplies injections, I still have like 15 injections on the drawer but they just won't work, now I'm relying entirely on sublingual tablets to function and looking for some other injections options but I'm starting to believe I need to store the injections differently because something is reducing their effectiveness.
I store my injections in the same cardboard boxes they arrived, I remove the top and I just leave them in the drawer and I use red light the whole time I need to manipulate them.
Another thing is that I live in Mexico near border, so in order to get injections I need to order them to a mailbox in the US, cross the border and bring them back to my home. I don't know if this whole trip is ruining them (I don't have a car so I carry them to my home).
I don't know what could be, someone pointed on the reduced quality on oxford biosciences, another person posted that their injections seemed to be counterfeit from the b12supplies store (what I doubt because their injections were working just fine).
I'm also pointing towards humidity (I read somewhere that humidity can reduce methylcobalamin effectiveness). I also inject on my thighs very frequently so I don't know if using only the same spots on thighs could reduce absorption.
I also tried buying from agelessrx but they won't accept my mailbox address I don't know why.
Thank you so much for taking your time for reading, hope you can help me and also hope this can help someone in the future.

While solving the issue described in my last post (Thanks btw), I found that my old Nighthawk R7000's quality has actually degraded quite a bit over the years we have owned it.
The router is marked to be able to handle Internet speeds up to 1300Mbps (Only on 5G on Wifi), but in my testing I found that currently over Ethernet and Wifi it caps off around ~380Mbps. The router's settings say that everything is working to output at max power, but the speed test say differently.
I assume this issue is probably the result of a combination of damage caused by heat over time, Bad firmware updates, and the fact that I had to rollback those firmware updates to unbrick the router at some point.
Safe to say I probably should be looking to upgrade from the Nighthawk R7000 at this point to get better performance and to actually have any sense of security with up to date firmware. (That hopefully wont brick the router this time)
Why not kill two birds with one stone?
1-Would it be better to buy a Mesh router kit?
-The home station would have to sit where my current Nighthawk sits in order to be properly connected to my modem and the switch that gives the other Ethernet ports in the house their functionality.
-A second access point would sit on the other end of the house in the room with the PC I've been testing on. I should be able to connect Ethernet from this AP to the PC to bypass the bad wiring I have been left with in my walls.
-I understand that on paper this really just means that I am Ethernet connecting to a Wifi connection, but from how everything is currently set up in the house my Ethernet and Wifi have similar latency and I believe that by being on a higher Frequency band (2.4, 5, 6, 6e) should perhaps greatly reduce the amount of "jumpiness" wifi latency should have. An Ethernet port is really only being used to remove one variable of Wifi jumping from System->AP->Router Hub.
-Its really just a battle of do I stay at 100Mbps but keep the reliability of Ethernet, or do I jump up to almost 1Gbps on a potentially very stable wifi connection.
2-Would it be better to try a MoCA adapter after buying a new router?
-I have COAX ports in every room of the house(but the bathrooms and closets). I have considered going this route, but there is only a few places I could get information about it from. From the information I COULD find the reaction seemed mixed. Some mentioned that MoCA was great because it could give very high speeds through COAX, but about equal amount of people complained about Intermittent dropping of connections or not actually getting the desired speeds they are paying for. I dont know how the wiring job in my house is done.(Especially since the Cat5e in the walls are apparently bad) It is not even guaranteed that I could even get good results from converting COAX to Ethernet, but there is also equal chance that it will all work out and there is nothing to worry about.
("Didn't you say you were going to go up in the attic and look at the bad wiring? What happened?")

• I did! Unfortunately the state of the attic has changed dramatically since about 6 years ago. It was an absolute pain to find the old Cat5e cables buried under what seemed to be Insulation, Torn up insulation, cotton, and trash. It was very hard to navigate up there past the AC stuff and make sure I could find boards to step on so I wouldnt just suddenly crash through the ceiling, so I am opting to call it "future me" problem and come down the attic looking like a sheep...

Heya! I've been in a never ending battle to win back my machine. It has cost me around 5-7 windows machines. After combating them daily, and after discovering ways they got into my system using satellites, blue tooth, and even using the power cable, I decided to make the switch to Linux. Nitrux even.
Now all this is enough to make anyone paranoid, and being the skeptic I am, i had to run many tests to make sure I wasn't simply hacking myself. That was fun. The obvious appearance of some things such as another linux distribution, Ubuntu, as well as a whole bunch of new python scripts and libraries, along with a "oh-my-zsh" install, and a huge command list from Powerlevel 9k and I was pretty convinced that I was indeed, being targeted.
The battle continues, I still manage to humbly get on here to make this post after doing more mods to thier system built on my system which was automatically reinstalling no matter what I deleted and I spent the day going through running every command available. (Aside from the ones like panic, and "yes")
I've discovered some more interesting things I thought you'd enjoy me sharing!

1. 2 million plus pages of RAM. around 1 million pages of ram running on thier remote machine. Wowza! Whats that smell like?

2. They have stuff installed not only in my root, but right on top of the kernel. In the kernel.

3. the internet is (was) looped and looped again. At this point I'm pretty sure even if you remoted in and looked, it would just look like me battling against myself. eyeroll

4. I think it was for intimidation purposes, but now residing in my root directory is a list of programs and stuff they are using. There is a start file, and an end file. Having ruled out this being my own government, I think its probably safe to post said lists here for everyone to take a gander at. Just to give you an idea of what I'm dealing with, and well to let them know how sick and tired I am of playing host to thier stupid data collection that they've been running on my hardware for so many years.

I don't expect any help, at this point its like picking at a wart, but feel free to throw in your two cents and interpretations. Oh and of Note here is my entire list of applications that I currently have installed: Notepadqq (firejailed not working), Reaper 617 (firejailed not working), Musescore (havent opened yet), vlc media player (no media to play but it works!), Infectionmonkey(firejailed), Libreoffice (yay i can spreadsheet), Inskape, Blender, Krita, Upscayle, Firefox, station.
And now, here is my guests list of software. Enjoy!
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1WWTvf6RpoWoxgzy7bNauGAusJsACzwhgeJ7ztWvXTGg/edit?usp=sharing

I normally don’t cross post on other teams subreddits, but I spend more time than I usually do talking about the opponent and figured someone might want to see what an alternative perspective is. Let me know what you think! What are keys to the game for the Vibe?
Grand Rapids Rise prevail over Omaha for the first time this season in Dimitrova's final match as a member of the Grand Rapids Rise. With the win, Grand Rapids has at least one victory over every playoff team. What lessons can be learned from this one and what does Grand Rapids need to score the upset over Atlanta? I discuss it here, but I'd love to hear from you by writing the show at [embersnest@gmail.com](mailto:embersnest@gmail.com), engaging on Reddit or Spotify.
Ember's Nest is available on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, iHeartRadio, Amazon Music (new!), and Audible (also new!).
https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/edward-white96/episodes/A-Swan-Song-W-for-Dimitrova-and-a-Playoff-Preview-e2jlc0u

Episode directed by TBA
Episode written by TBA
Episode 10 Synopsis: The X-Men's dream is put to the test as mutant-human relations reach a tipping point.
Reminder: Make yourself familiar with our subreddit spoiler rules. This thread is not going to be spoiler free but if you want make a thread discussing a moment in the episode (like how people discuss this week's comics outside the weekly discussion threads), please remember: to use a spoiler free title, add the episode name/number you're spoiling and to use the spoiler tag. Failure to do so will result in your post being removed.
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Episode Discussion Threads Masterpost

• Lesson video

INTRO

Your server is now running two services: the sshd (Secure Shell Daemon) service that you use to login; and the Apache2 web server. Both of these services are generating logs as you and others access your server - and these are text files which we can analyse using some simple tools.
Plain text files are a key part of "the Unix way" and there are many small "tools" to allow you to easily edit, sort, search and otherwise manipulate them. Today we’ll use grep, cat, more, less, cut, awk and tail to slice and dice your logs.
The grep command is famous for being extremely powerful and handy, but also because its "nerdy" name is typical of Unix/Linux conventions.

YOUR TASKS TODAY

• Dump out the complete contents of a file with cat like this: cat /valog/apache2/access.log
• Use less to open the same file, like this: less /valog/apache2/access.log - and move up and down through the file with your arrow keys, then use “q” to quit.
• Again using less, look at a file, but practice confidently moving around using gg, GG and /, n and N (to go to the top of the file, bottom of the file, to search for something and to hop to the next "hit" or back to the previous one)
• View recent logins and sudo usage by viewing /valog/auth.log with less
• Look at just the tail end of the file with tail /valog/apache2/access.log (yes, there's also a head command!)
• Follow a log in real-time with: tail -f /valog/apache2/access.log (while accessing your server’s web page in a browser)
• You can take the output of one command and "pipe" it in as the input to another by using the (pipe) symbol
• So, dump out a file with cat, but pipe that output to grep with a search term - like this: cat /valog/auth.log grep "authenticating"
• Simplify this to: grep "authenticating" /valog/auth.log
• Piping allows you to narrow your search, e.g. grep "authenticating" /valog/auth.log grep "root"
• Use the cut command to select out most interesting portions of each line by specifying "-d" (delimiter) and "-f" (field) - like: grep "authenticating" /valog/auth.log grep "root" cut -f 10- -d" " (field 10 onwards, where the delimiter between field is the " " character). This approach can be very useful in extracting useful information from log data.
• Use the -v option to invert the selection and find attempts to login with other users: grep "authenticating" /valog/auth.log grep -v "root" cut -f 10- -d" "

The output of any command can be "redirected" to a file with the ">" operator. The command: ls -ltr > listing.txt wouldn't list the directory contents to your screen, but instead redirect into the file "listing.txt" (creating that file if it didn't exist, or overwriting the contents if it did).

WHERE'S MY /VALOG/AUTH.LOG?

If you didn't find the file /valog/auth.log you're probably using a minimal version of Ubuntu (it can be your own local VM or a version in one of the VPS). That minimal image is, well... minimal. It only has the systemd journal available and it didn't come with the old syslog system by default.
But don't worry! To get that back, sudo apt install rsyslog and the file will be created. Just give it a few minutes to populate before working on the lesson.
It also be missing a few of the other programs we use in the challenge, but you can always install them.

POSTING YOUR PROGRESS

Re-run the command to list all the IP's that have unsuccessfully tried to login to your server as root - but this time, use the the ">" operator to redirect it to the file: ~/attackers.txt. You might like to share and compare with others doing the course how heavily you're "under attack"!

EXTENSION

• See if you can extend your filtering of auth.log to select just the IP addresses, then pipe this to sort, and then further to uniq to get a list of all those IP addresses that have been "auditing" your server security for you.
• Investigate the awk and sed commands. When you're having difficulty figuring out how to do something with grep and cut, then you may need to step up to using these. Googling for "linux sed tricks" or "awk one liners" will get you many examples.
• Aim to learn at least one simple useful trick with both awk and sed

RESOURCES

• Text processing commands
• OSTechNix grep tutorial
• Where GREP came from
• SED onliners
• RegExr - a tool to learn, build and test Regular Expressions
• explainshell.com - write down a command-line to see the help text that matches each argument

TROUBLESHOOT AND MAKE A SAD SERVER HAPPY!

Practice what you've learned with some challenges at SadServers.com:

• "Saskatoon": counting IPs.
• "Santiago": Find the secret combination
• "The Command Line Murders"

PREVIOUS DAY'S LESSON

• Day 7 - The server and its services

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