Miranda in old english letters
FB: Stuff found in books
2008.12.12 19:38 FB: Stuff found in books
2008.11.08 01:18 Reddit Rot-Weiß-Rot
Von Mozart, Schnitzel, Kaiserschmarrn, vom Zillertal nach Puntigam - Österreichs Subreddit, knusprig paniert! Austria's Red-White-Reddit.
2008.09.27 04:02 Engrish
A subreddit for really phucked up speeling mistks and grammar that wierd is?
2024.05.14 22:58 1994BackToBuisness The Dour Griffin - Chapter XVII, 'Fear Is The Mind Killer'
Nothing ever exists entirely alone; everything is in relation to everything else.
Title: The Dour Griffin
Author: k1ngfisher
Rating: Mature
Language: English
Length: 63,222 words
Status: Ongoing, Chapters: 17/?
Link: AO3
Tags: Bronze Prince, Faith of the Seven, The Old Gods, Gods of Valyria, Magic and Miracles, Worldbuilding, Andalos, Essos, Faith, Steel, Daemon tries to be a good Dad, No Bashing, despite the premise, Artys is a renaissance prince
Summary:
Ser Artys Royce, the Dour Griffin. Rider of most Noble and Loyal Deathclaw, the first Griffin in millennia's. A true Hugorist knight, an example to all.
He should've never been born. An extra piece in the puzzle that is the universe.
An aberration. An abomination. A dark hope.
A man with no past, or future.
And soon, hopefully, no present.
submitted by 1994BackToBuisness to TheCitadel [link] [comments]
Title: The Dour Griffin
Author: k1ngfisher
Rating: Mature
Language: English
Length: 63,222 words
Status: Ongoing, Chapters: 17/?
Link: AO3
Tags: Bronze Prince, Faith of the Seven, The Old Gods, Gods of Valyria, Magic and Miracles, Worldbuilding, Andalos, Essos, Faith, Steel, Daemon tries to be a good Dad, No Bashing, despite the premise, Artys is a renaissance prince
Summary:
Ser Artys Royce, the Dour Griffin. Rider of most Noble and Loyal Deathclaw, the first Griffin in millennia's. A true Hugorist knight, an example to all.
He should've never been born. An extra piece in the puzzle that is the universe.
An aberration. An abomination. A dark hope.
A man with no past, or future.
And soon, hopefully, no present.
2024.05.14 22:58 1994BackToBuisness The Dour Griffin - Chapter XVII, 'Fear Is The Mind Killer'
Nothing ever exists entirely alone; everything is in relation to everything else.
Title: The Dour Griffin
Author: k1ngfisher
Rating: Mature
Language: English
Length: 63,222 words
Status: Ongoing, Chapters: 17/?
Link: AO3
Tags: Bronze Prince, Faith of the Seven, The Old Gods, Gods of Valyria, Magic and Miracles, Worldbuilding, Andalos, Essos, Faith, Steel, Daemon tries to be a good Dad, No Bashing, despite the premise, Artys is a renaissance prince
Summary:
Ser Artys Royce, the Dour Griffin. Rider of most Noble and Loyal Deathclaw, the first Griffin in millennia's. A true Hugorist knight, an example to all.
He should've never been born. An extra piece in the puzzle that is the universe.
An aberration. An abomination. A dark hope.
A man with no past, or future.
And soon, hopefully, no present.
submitted by 1994BackToBuisness to AsoiafFanfiction [link] [comments]
Title: The Dour Griffin
Author: k1ngfisher
Rating: Mature
Language: English
Length: 63,222 words
Status: Ongoing, Chapters: 17/?
Link: AO3
Tags: Bronze Prince, Faith of the Seven, The Old Gods, Gods of Valyria, Magic and Miracles, Worldbuilding, Andalos, Essos, Faith, Steel, Daemon tries to be a good Dad, No Bashing, despite the premise, Artys is a renaissance prince
Summary:
Ser Artys Royce, the Dour Griffin. Rider of most Noble and Loyal Deathclaw, the first Griffin in millennia's. A true Hugorist knight, an example to all.
He should've never been born. An extra piece in the puzzle that is the universe.
An aberration. An abomination. A dark hope.
A man with no past, or future.
And soon, hopefully, no present.
2024.05.14 22:55 CashNormal9838 AITA for waning my own space
Hi, for some background information, I'm a 19 year old, not native English speaking, university student. During the week I live in a dorm, with no roommates or people frequently entering. I go home almost every weekend. It is customary for students to go home in the weekend where I live. Now back to the reason of my post: Ever since I was about 12 I had the biggest room at home. Last year, before going to uni, my only sibling and I decided we would swap rooms since I don't have a need for all the space anymore, and he would prefer the big room. This was a mutual agreement and we both looked forward to our new rooms. I immediately started packing everything up until all my stuff was living in boxes. Now it is almost a year later, and my brother still hasn't started packing up his stuff. "My" room is entirely painted and most of the furniture has been put together, the only thing he has to do is move. In the meantime, he still uses the smaller bedroom as his bedroom, but the big room is also already talked about as his. The few things that are mine in this room, constantly go missing during the week when I'm in my dorm. Recently I asked if he could please start moving so I could have my own space again. Instead of understanding, my family feels it is unfair to ask this because I live in a dormroom all by myself and that is my space. I just don't feel at home anymore when I go home in the weekend. A lot of my stuff is still living in boxes, I don't feel like I have my own space to decompress. I have been becoming a bit irritable lately, and I have yelled about it a few times now (some things unrelated to the room are also really stressing me out, and in my home yelling is a not unusual way of communicating, which I am actively trying to unlearn) So am I the (sole) a-hole for all of this?
submitted by CashNormal9838 to CharlotteDobreYouTube [link] [comments]
2024.05.14 22:54 _b1rd0 I was hoping to kill myself by 18. I am now almost 22 and honestly don't know what to do with my life and how to keep it up
Title pretty much explains it all. From age 12-13 onward things regarding my mental health went downhill,to spare the details mostly due to my father's controlling behaviour and constant bullying and loneliness thoughout entire middle school. I graduated middle school at the age of 17 and by that point I was ready to give it a shot and end it all. I didn't know what I wanna do in the future job wise or how to cope and I couldn't rely on my parents given they avoid subject of mental health to this day.
However I ended up running into someone,an old friend. We borh ended up saving each other's lives that day by reunitng and keeping in touch (we still talk and they're my best friend,actually). Having them around changed waiting for logging out of this world to surviving that sometimes felt like living,however this postivie change wasn't enough I suppose.
I'm now in the college that I picked mostly out of pressure and taunting from my father (not place itself,just going to college on it's own) and I went there purely to get away from my home town and my family because after high school ended,same need to leave this Earth came back and I'm almost certain I'd go though with it if I didn't get space for myself. I don't see any perspective for myself in both "my line of work" from colege or just in general and thought about going back to my home town for longer than summer holidays (and I'm still mostly not home by then because I've been working all summer for like 6 years now) fills me up with dread. Fact that I study subject deemed useless doesn't help because I'm convinced they're right. And also recently I've been having constant health problems on various fileds (suspicion of tetany,I am waiting for doctor to give papers that would allow me to get properly tested) and it makes me feel even less motivated. I was considering half-time studies on something that would give me more stabile job but I'm tired of local schooling system and by this point just working any job feels like I better way out just to try and stay afloat where I am now and have my peace,try and have life of my own (btw on brighter note going away to college definietly helped me discover myself more in many aspecs and it was therapeutic to not have anyone frown on things I wear or say)
I'm not looking for advice because I don't think there's any that can come in handy as of now but I don't really feel like I can tell anyone in my irl close circle this so here I am
(also english isn't my native language so sorry for any mishaps here and there )
submitted by _b1rd0 to depression [link] [comments]
However I ended up running into someone,an old friend. We borh ended up saving each other's lives that day by reunitng and keeping in touch (we still talk and they're my best friend,actually). Having them around changed waiting for logging out of this world to surviving that sometimes felt like living,however this postivie change wasn't enough I suppose.
I'm now in the college that I picked mostly out of pressure and taunting from my father (not place itself,just going to college on it's own) and I went there purely to get away from my home town and my family because after high school ended,same need to leave this Earth came back and I'm almost certain I'd go though with it if I didn't get space for myself. I don't see any perspective for myself in both "my line of work" from colege or just in general and thought about going back to my home town for longer than summer holidays (and I'm still mostly not home by then because I've been working all summer for like 6 years now) fills me up with dread. Fact that I study subject deemed useless doesn't help because I'm convinced they're right. And also recently I've been having constant health problems on various fileds (suspicion of tetany,I am waiting for doctor to give papers that would allow me to get properly tested) and it makes me feel even less motivated. I was considering half-time studies on something that would give me more stabile job but I'm tired of local schooling system and by this point just working any job feels like I better way out just to try and stay afloat where I am now and have my peace,try and have life of my own (btw on brighter note going away to college definietly helped me discover myself more in many aspecs and it was therapeutic to not have anyone frown on things I wear or say)
I'm not looking for advice because I don't think there's any that can come in handy as of now but I don't really feel like I can tell anyone in my irl close circle this so here I am
(also english isn't my native language so sorry for any mishaps here and there )
2024.05.14 22:53 INeedAHug93 I don’t know what to do.
Hey I’m a 13 year old girl. Sorry if this is badly written English isn’t my first language and I was crying when I wrote this.
So the thing is that I feel like people are blaming me for stuff. It’s hard to explain but here is an example: Me and four friends were on a beach hanging out, sunbathing and chilling. Me and one of the girls decided to dip our feet in the water. So we’re sitting there and I ask her if she wants to see who can make the biggest whirlwind whit our feet. She says yes and we start moving our feet around , then she accidentally splashes herself. She gets mad then she runs over to our friends and says that I splashed her. I walk over cause and she accuses me of splashing her. I’m confused as heck and says “but you splashed yourself?” She starts arguing with me and saying I’m gaslighting her and my friends believe her and doesn’t even hear me out. They’re saying they know I’m lying and stuff and I’m just so confused and am just trying to explain what happened but no one listens to me. And I know this might not sound like a big deal, it’s not it’s just that its not the first time she has done something like this she will spill something on her self or drop something, blame it on me and get super mad if I defend myself and she’ll say I’m gaslighting her or that I’m lying and I know I should just ignore it but my friend’s instantly believe her and ignores anything I said. It just makes me sad because this has happened to me all throughout my childhood whit my parents they always blame me I’m the scapegoat. If something happens I’m guilty until proven otherwise.
Now I don’t know what im really asking but I think I just kinda wanted to vent I don’t really have anyone to talk to about this.
submitted by INeedAHug93 to Advice [link] [comments]
So the thing is that I feel like people are blaming me for stuff. It’s hard to explain but here is an example: Me and four friends were on a beach hanging out, sunbathing and chilling. Me and one of the girls decided to dip our feet in the water. So we’re sitting there and I ask her if she wants to see who can make the biggest whirlwind whit our feet. She says yes and we start moving our feet around , then she accidentally splashes herself. She gets mad then she runs over to our friends and says that I splashed her. I walk over cause and she accuses me of splashing her. I’m confused as heck and says “but you splashed yourself?” She starts arguing with me and saying I’m gaslighting her and my friends believe her and doesn’t even hear me out. They’re saying they know I’m lying and stuff and I’m just so confused and am just trying to explain what happened but no one listens to me. And I know this might not sound like a big deal, it’s not it’s just that its not the first time she has done something like this she will spill something on her self or drop something, blame it on me and get super mad if I defend myself and she’ll say I’m gaslighting her or that I’m lying and I know I should just ignore it but my friend’s instantly believe her and ignores anything I said. It just makes me sad because this has happened to me all throughout my childhood whit my parents they always blame me I’m the scapegoat. If something happens I’m guilty until proven otherwise.
Now I don’t know what im really asking but I think I just kinda wanted to vent I don’t really have anyone to talk to about this.
2024.05.14 22:50 strangelilgrrl 21 [F4M] Anywhere/Online/USA/Moscow - dare to poke at my mind's eye.
/dramatical music goes on/
the girl was sitting on a sofa with her elbows resting on the kitchen table to the point of getting sore. her posture was shrimpish, with head sticking out at a weird angle, like a shy tortoise reacting out for some lettuce. the expression on her face didn't really suit her age.
if you only knew that she went to sleep at 3 am and woke up at 1 pm, much unwillingly, you'd understand that almost every decision she made over last few years was of a ruinous nature. the girl was staring at her phonescreen, typing words that were slowly turning into sentences but it was just another sampler.
a few hours went by and she moved to her bed island, listening to random psychedelic old man's music playing on her earphones and thinking to herself "eh, my life sucks".
that would be the reason as to why now she was writing another letter into the void instead of a nice biographical epos.
my dearest one, i don't know what to say. i've been dedicating you all sorts of silly things for months and it didn't help me, not in the least. i thought it would have some therapeutic effect on my sick mind but i was proved wrong. even though my outer shell may appear infallible, my inner components are in the middle of a non-ending breakdown.
i wish i could do something to redeem myself and then you'd show up straight out of the blue.
i need to know that everything is going to be ok.
i need reassurance.
i need to feel seen.
there has to be a sensation but my raging madness to rely upon.
submitted by strangelilgrrl to ForeverAloneDating [link] [comments]
the girl was sitting on a sofa with her elbows resting on the kitchen table to the point of getting sore. her posture was shrimpish, with head sticking out at a weird angle, like a shy tortoise reacting out for some lettuce. the expression on her face didn't really suit her age.
if you only knew that she went to sleep at 3 am and woke up at 1 pm, much unwillingly, you'd understand that almost every decision she made over last few years was of a ruinous nature. the girl was staring at her phonescreen, typing words that were slowly turning into sentences but it was just another sampler.
a few hours went by and she moved to her bed island, listening to random psychedelic old man's music playing on her earphones and thinking to herself "eh, my life sucks".
that would be the reason as to why now she was writing another letter into the void instead of a nice biographical epos.
my dearest one, i don't know what to say. i've been dedicating you all sorts of silly things for months and it didn't help me, not in the least. i thought it would have some therapeutic effect on my sick mind but i was proved wrong. even though my outer shell may appear infallible, my inner components are in the middle of a non-ending breakdown.
i wish i could do something to redeem myself and then you'd show up straight out of the blue.
i need to know that everything is going to be ok.
i need reassurance.
i need to feel seen.
there has to be a sensation but my raging madness to rely upon.
2024.05.14 22:49 M4DLL3NKR2KR I know having daddy issues is like obsessed over older guys/man ,but how far has your daddy issues reached?
(btw English is not my first language so if there are some mistakes try to understand it I'm trying my best ) Last year I was heading home from a vacation,I actually like being at the airport cuz there I can see different people and in general older good looking guy/man,I was going for the check out ,to fly from that county and I see this good looking man ,he was probably in his 40s or idk in his late 40s...idk but he really looked old enough to be my father, actually older than my father,the moment I saw him I was only looking after him ,good thing he was from my country and we were close to each other cuz where he was going I was going too.He had 3 big boys staying next to him I think they were his son's and they didn't look old then 16 17 or so on somewhere around that age .I made some eye contact with 2 of them with one of those boys I made many eye contacts but they lasted like 3-5sec .I was actually looking more at their father lol,I mean he was soooo.Anyways he was actually my type andi really liked that ,he had brown or black hair if with some white ,he was tall like taller than me and that was perfect ,he had some veiny ahh hands omggg u couldn't belive what I was feeling in that moment . I catched him talking with his son's ,he was annoyed for some reason and how he was speaking was much more attractive.I don't remember making eye contact with him really....but I was always looking at him and his eyes ,he had long hair to his shoulder but still shorter than shoulder,It looked like a kind of hot male teacher yk ,and how he was pulling his hair back with his finger like he just got out of the water and got the we hair or of his face .Anyways I kind of had some crush on him for that time at the airport. When we were going into the plane I really wanted him to be near me or even to have his seat next to me oh god....I had an separate seat than my family so yeah ,but sadly it didn't happen ,when we got to out destination,home country,we were waiting for the luggages on that trail ,he sat in front of me and the way he was standing is was like he was in the military,he had his hands crossed legs apart and standing there very serious,his luggage came first,he just got it and left immediately Don't think that I forgot about him I still think of him somesomes ,but this happened 2023 on 4 august on my bday ,is was cool I was thinking of him and made some fake scenarios In my head they were wild and idk...how to explain them , interesting but weirdly cool Everytime I was in the city I was kind of looking out for him idk why cuz it's not like he is a relative of my father or sum and someday I will just see him visiting my house and reseeing him again ...
submitted by M4DLL3NKR2KR to daddyissuesclub [link] [comments]
2024.05.14 22:48 PorcupinePattyGrape Parent question: How reasonable is it for parents to be contacting high school teachers about presentation anxiety accommodations?
Hi, I have a 15-year old boy who is a sophomore in high school. He has long struggled with pretty bad social anxiety. He has actually been given a likely diagnosis of "selective mutism" in the past which means he is basically unable to speak in certain situations. Presentations are particularly debilitating for him. We initially sought out treatment when he was in 5th grade because he developed a facial twitch due to the stress of a classroom presentation. After some number of months, the twitch went away and the (private) therapist we were seeing backed away from treatment.
14-months of virtual school during the pandemic sent him into some amount of depression and even more heightened anxiety (which included a 5-month wait to get him back into the adolescent mental health system of our primary local health provider). Since then he's been on a small dose of Prozac and sees a therapist every 2 weeks. Depression is gone, but struggling to do classroom presentations continues to be a big challenge for him.
He otherwise performs well academically. A's in AP Chemistry, AP World History, etc. However he is getting B grades in English and Spanish because he is being docked for presentations that he is either not doing, or not doing well. Nothing wrong with Bs except for the fact that it is pretty much primarily due to anxiety. (And well admittedly I just don't know how competitive colleges are these days).
I've sent e-mails to his teachers explaining the issue. Some are accommodating by allowing him to present a lunchtime just to the teacher. Some teachers haven't responded to me at all. (perhaps they are too overwhelmed to deal with e-mail).
I've sent e-mails to the high school psychologist and guidance counselor asking about whether we should have additional accommodations in place, but they haven't responded to my e-mails either. A family friend of mine asked if I have an "ILP" in place.
I'm not really sure how to navigate this or what I should expect. Obviously ability and effort factors into grades, and ability comes in different flavors other than the ability to answerecall information in a multiple choice test for example. I'm not expecting my kid to get Straight As (i.e., his in-progress semester grade for AP Pre-calculus shows a B and presentation abilities surely doesn't impact that). That said, I vaguely know that in some situations, deficits in ability are accommodated for.
I'm just looking for parenting advice on what I should and should not be doing. I'm not sure whether I'm advocating enough, or, whether I'm being a parent that expects too much at his age.
submitted by PorcupinePattyGrape to Teachers [link] [comments]
14-months of virtual school during the pandemic sent him into some amount of depression and even more heightened anxiety (which included a 5-month wait to get him back into the adolescent mental health system of our primary local health provider). Since then he's been on a small dose of Prozac and sees a therapist every 2 weeks. Depression is gone, but struggling to do classroom presentations continues to be a big challenge for him.
He otherwise performs well academically. A's in AP Chemistry, AP World History, etc. However he is getting B grades in English and Spanish because he is being docked for presentations that he is either not doing, or not doing well. Nothing wrong with Bs except for the fact that it is pretty much primarily due to anxiety. (And well admittedly I just don't know how competitive colleges are these days).
I've sent e-mails to his teachers explaining the issue. Some are accommodating by allowing him to present a lunchtime just to the teacher. Some teachers haven't responded to me at all. (perhaps they are too overwhelmed to deal with e-mail).
I've sent e-mails to the high school psychologist and guidance counselor asking about whether we should have additional accommodations in place, but they haven't responded to my e-mails either. A family friend of mine asked if I have an "ILP" in place.
I'm not really sure how to navigate this or what I should expect. Obviously ability and effort factors into grades, and ability comes in different flavors other than the ability to answerecall information in a multiple choice test for example. I'm not expecting my kid to get Straight As (i.e., his in-progress semester grade for AP Pre-calculus shows a B and presentation abilities surely doesn't impact that). That said, I vaguely know that in some situations, deficits in ability are accommodated for.
I'm just looking for parenting advice on what I should and should not be doing. I'm not sure whether I'm advocating enough, or, whether I'm being a parent that expects too much at his age.
2024.05.14 22:44 shaneka69 LIBRA ZODIAC PREDICTIONS MAY 2024
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2024.05.14 22:43 Silver_liver The Ashtapadan, Ch. 19/43. SFW this time but shows how I imagine an RR society
Link to AO3
chapters 1&2
chapter 3
chapter 4
chapter 5
chapter 6
chapter 7
chapter 8
chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
The Academy looked normal enough from the distance but blew Gentry’s mind when she finally entered it. First of all, the way in lay through a massive winter garden full of the most luxurious botanical collection she’s ever seen. Not only that, but it seemed to be arranged in a way that offered spaces for hanging out as well as paths in and out. Here and there, G noticed little nooks with people’s voices coming from them and small murmuring streams gleamed in the sun that blazed through the transparent walls and roof. This place looked magical and invited to stay, enjoy the refreshing coolness and peace of mind. But Gentry had a good enough rest in her communal room the night before and was eager to start working on her first assignment that the System had spat out with a congratulating letter. Figuring out the controls of her new wristcomm was simple enough.
DEAR GENTRY!
WE ARE DELIGHTED TO INFORM YOU THAT YOU ARE THE FIRST CONTESTANT TO CLEAR ALL CHALLENGES AND OBTAIN THE STATUS OF AN ASHTAPADAN NEWCOMER! YOUR MEDICAL DATA HAS BEEN ANALYSED AND FOUND ACCEPTABLE.
IN THE ATTACHMENT TO THIS LETTER YOU WILL FIND A LIST OF RULES, RECOMMENDATIONS AND IDEAS THAT WILL DEFINITELY HELP YOU IN THE FIRST WEEKS IN OUR BEAUTIFUL CITY BUT WE STRONGLY RECOMMEND FINDING A BUDDY THAT WOULD BE YOUR MAIN GUIDE AND POTENTIALLY A NEW GREAT FRIEND! IT CAN BE ANY CITIZEN OR A MORE EXPERIENCED NEWCOMER.
YOUR CURRENT POINTS: 0
WHY NOT START EARNING SOME WITH YOUR FIRST ASSIGNMENT?
START ANY BEGINNER COURSE AT THE ACADEMY AND KEEP YOUR ATTENDANCE RATE OVER 80% — WORTH 50 POINTS
(OPTIONAL) FIND SOMEBODY WHO IS WILLING TO BECOME YOUR BUDDY — WORTH 20 POINTS
Without stopping to check if the vending machines offered anything good, G made her way through the dreamy garden and entered the inner yard that looked just like everything here: nothing too eye-catching at first glance but secrets hidden everywhere.
One thing she had already noticed was that most of the people had another piece of technology on their bodies besides the comm on their wrists: a sort of extendable visor that some of them kept engaged at all times. Those who were focused on the screen had a comical look on their faces, a thousand-mile stare, eyes wide even as they were talking to each other or going about their business. It was unclear yet why they would engage the screen for so long though. No one needed this much time to read a notification or check a map.
Take a group of young students by the fountain, for example. They seemed deep in conversation with each other yet their pupils didn’t focus on the person in front, but on the translucent screen over the top part of their faces. Was it some kind of virtual reality helmet?
If so, G needed one, too.
Perhaps she’d be able to make new friends this way.
There was something else that caught Gentry’s eye. Despite her initial disappointment about the severe lack of male hotness in the streets, people of both sexes seemed to really care about their appearance. Even those who probably weren’t naturally stunning were very interesting to look at not least because of the crazy fashion sense everyone here had. Never before had G seen so much variety in what everyone wore: countless variations on different national garments, some looking very traditional, like something one could see in a theatre, some — futuristic uniforms straight out of a sci-fi movie. It didn’t seem like anyone was concerned with gender norms here, too. At least in when it came to the outfits.
G hoped she didn’t look like a creepy stalker when her gaze lingered on a pair of very nicely shaped legs stretching from underneath a plaid skirt that belonged to a young man in the group sat by the edge of the water. A pair of snow-white knee-highs, flat loafers and neat raven hair with some blue streaks completed the image. His clothes fit him very well and weren’t inappropriate in the least: something an old money university student would wear.
A female student that is.
And he wasn’t alone. Here and there, among more conventionally dressed people, there were people wearing all sorts of things: a crazy mix of goth-like apparel but barefoot, men and women with heads covered with scarves, people in strange jewelery that looked like it weighed a ton and so on. Most importantly, no one seemed to care what the others looked like.
Was it paradise? Looks like the demo didn’t lie: it was heaven on earth.
The young man in the middle of the student gaggle caught her staring after all. With a dazzling smile, he waved in her direction as if they were great friends, and G waved back, face heating, hoping there wasn’t anyone behind her this tease was actually waving at. Thank god his shoes weren’t heeled, otherwise she would definitely have a heart attack right here, in the middle of the common area, on her first day.
Did he notice her ogling his legs? Judging by the giggles of his friend's entourage, they all did. The young flirt covered his mouth, eyes wide in mock indignation and pulled his knees in, as if hiding them from the improper attention, getting even more laughter from the rest of the company. G averted her eyes and tried to calm her breathing as she was on her way through the yard again, but before they all disappeared from her field of view, she noticed the coquette stretch his legs again and fall back on a friend of his, embracing the lucky man’s neck in an affectionate gesture, already forgetting G existed.
There was no way she wasn’t going to make some pretty boy do the same for her. Forget the assignment, put that in the list of her top priorities!
At first, Gentry was lost when she failed to find any kind of class schedule and there was no one to ask at the reception desk.
Why have a reception desk if nobody’s on duty?
Soon, however, it occurred to her that there was no schedule: each room within the wide marble corridors had a small display with a handwritten message scribbled on it.
Bachata for beginners
Product engineering (Tuesday class cancelled)
Colloidal chemistry (revision today)
None of these were the Communications course that Jey was talking about, but the variety definitely made G’s eyebrows go up.
Was she just supposed to barge into any class and sign up? Did she have to sign up later if she liked the subject? Was it ok to choose any?
After some wandering around, too scared to just walk in uninvited or ask others for directions, she finally stumbled across the door saying:
Communication & decision making course (Newcomers welcome)
With the desks arranged in a horseshoe and the people of various ages that were also apparently Newcomers, it all seemed comfortably casual. Everyone was chatting as she walked in, paying G no mind so she busied herself with the wristcomm that dinged at exactly the right time to save her the embarrassment of looking for a desk.
Would you like to enroll in this course? Scroll down to read the description.
Was this damn thing a spying device? Did it just know which room she was in? Jey didn’t joke when she said the little thing was going to be her primary aid!
“Are you looking for somewhere to sit?” called a young red-haired woman at one of the paired desks. “Here, this one is free.” She had the auglasses on, like everyone else, but they were off, showing her lively face and a pair of sharp green eyes.
“Thanks,” G said, gratefully taking the offer. “I’m new here, don’t know how things work yet.”
“It’s alright, the course is very engaging, you’ll love it.” — the woman held out a hand — “I’m Sereen, what’s your name?”
G shook the warm palm. “It’s Gentry. And by new I mean I’m new to Ashtapada, not just the course. Literally arrived yesterday.”
“Really?” — S looked surprised — “Everything must be very confusing!”
“You have no idea,” G smiled. “I’m glad someone understands. Everyone’s friendly but acts as if giant mechanical dogs in the streets and a moss garden in the lobby are the most normal things ever.”
“Don’t worry, I was just like you when I first arrived, you’ll get the hang of it soon.”
“Hope so! Is that the lecturer?”
“Shhh...”
Just like everything else in Ashtapada, the lecture started out normal enough only to unfold into something completely alien to how things were normally done.
Apparently, the Communications course involved learning rationality, debating, logic, etiquette and god knew what else. It was supposed to give the future citizens tools to, well, communicate. G was given a booklet with some ground rules for beginners that included entries that sounded like something Sun Tzu would say if he studied debating instead of warcraft.
“The purpose of any argument is not to win it and not to change the other disputant’s mind. It’s to find the truth.”
“Always argue in good faith.”
“Don’t attack your opponent.”
“If attacked, dismiss the attack as if it didn’t happen.”
Well, hopefully, it only meant verbal attacks! G knew too well that when it came to physical violence, it was hard to ignore it.
Most of the rules looked straightforward enough, some were confusing.
“Seek challenge to your convictions. Avoid echo chambers.”
“Don’t seek being right.”
“Be mindful of your audience including yourself.”
“Avoid “Empty arguments” that don’t bring everyone closer to the goal of finding the truth.”
The lecturer, a willowy man of about sixty that drowned in his tweed jacket, started the class with a bit of small talk with the regulars after distributing the booklets to all first-timers. He made sure to give it to G face down so that his photo under the “About the author” title didn’t go unnoticed. He also made most of the “talk” part himself.
“I never took part in a debate,” G told Sereen, who was patiently waiting for the class to begin. “And never seen anything like these rules. Is it actually useful?”
“Oh, believe me, professor Poe will be ecstatic to talk to you about them. He can’t not start discussing his subject at the slightest provocation. Look.” — she raised her hand — “Professor, how was your weekend?”
The man wearily smiled. “That might seem like a meaningless question, Sereen, but it’s actually very much related to the topic we are going to cover today.”
“See?” — S raised her eyebrows with a suppressed smile. G giggled. This promised to be interesting.
“Our friend Sereen is a very polite person, isn’t she?” — Poe smiled at the class but his eyes glided over everyone’s faces, gaze turned inwards like he was reading an invisible text written on the walls. “But as kind as she is, I don’t think she’s actually interested in how my weekend went. Small talk is just a social custom we engage in to strengthen our social relations. Why don’t we just start a day by saying “Hi! I value our relationship and would like to fulfill my societal role!” to everyone we know? I would definitely prefer THAT over the small talk! He-he!”
The audience laughed politely. The guy seemed alright.
“However, just as we use different tools to fulfill this role in different contexts, so can the context of a logical problem steer our thinking towards a rational, that is, right, and an irrational, that is, wrong, answer.”
“Well, that’s not a given,” Gentry mumbled under her breath but it went unnoticed by S, who was already immersed in the lecture.
“Consider the famous René Descartes’s quote "Cogito, ergo sum". Who can translate it from Latin?” — the board behind the thin, almost transparent man glowed, displaying the words.
“Is it really a Beginner’s course?” G asked Sereen in a low voice but her companion was already raising her hand, together with a dozen other students.
“I think, therefore I am,” she said after a curt nod of the lecturer’s permission.
“Very good,” he continued, pleased. “I taught you well. Those of you who attend my lectures regularly are familiar with the notion of solipsism, which states that the only thing we can be sure about is our own thoughts.”
Gentry looked at S with raised eyebrows.
If this is an introductory course, what was the advanced like?
Sereen didn’t seem to perplexed. She was fully following the thread.
“However,” professor Poe said. “I am going to challenge that notion by demonstrating that we can’t trust our own mind when it comes to perceiving reality.”
He looked at the audience with a quizzical eye, and pointed at Gentry with a long bony finger “You, new girl. I want you to close your eyes.”
Why her?
Gentry was only happy to hide behind her eyelids. No doubt the whole room was now staring at her.
Through the blood rushing in her ears, she heard the old man’s voice, “Who was sitting beside you before you closed your eyes?”
“My new friend Sereen,” G answered and heard a little gasp of appreciation from the woman.
“So you know she existed as long as you two were whispering behind my back. However, now that you can’t see or hear her. How do you know she exists?”
“Well, I can reach with my hand and touch her,” Gentry said, demonstrating.
“Yes, this is what most people answer,” Poe said. “You can open your eyes now. But let me ask you this: how would you know it was her, an not some other person that took her place?”
Gentry’s intuition was right: everyone was staring, as if waiting for her answer.
“Well, I suppose— ”
“Hush, it was a rhetorical question,” the professor cut her off. “The correct answer is that you can’t know that. We think we can trust our senses or at least our thoughts, but this is also false. Everyone, look out of the window.”
Everyone did.
The day was as fine as Gentry was annoyed.
What did this pops think of himself?
“I’d ask what you see, but I already know the answer,” he went on. “All of you would say “the sky”. And all of you would be wrong, because sky doesn’t exist. We only see the endless emptiness of the outer space, but perceive it as a blue dome. It’s an illusion, a phantom, born out of our collective unconscious.”
Sereen whispered, lost in the lecture, “Ah, yes, Carl Jung.”
What?
Was it supposed to be obvious?
“But listen to this,” he continued, voice booming like a demiurge’s in the completely silent room. “Listen to this. How many words is it? Listentothis. Our common sense says it’s three words while in reality it’s just a string of sounds I an producing with my mouth. I am literally making you hallucinate the spaces between the words I’m saying. With knowing that our perception is so flawed, how can we know that we even know how to think?”
“I’m sorry, professor, I disagr...” G started but got struck down by his serrated gaze.
“I’ll invite questions at the end, young miss,” he chopped out.
Sereen’s eyes were sympathetic. It looked like most if not all of professor Poe’s students had learned not to interrupt him.
He went on, “Anyway, the fact that you even understand what I am saying is in itself incredible and shouldn’t be possible.”
“But it IS possible, right?” G whispered to Sereen. “I mean, aren’t we understanding this as he speaks?”
“PLEASE refrain from talking unless asked!” professor Poe roared.
Impressive lung capacity for such a frail human being!
G begrudgingly did as she was told. The guy seemed to be enjoying this power trip a bit too much to her taste.
“Now, since most of you,” he put some emphasis on the word to shut up another pair of whispering students. “Most of you think you comprehend my words, you must know that there is a way to tell that something is real, even though we can’t rely on our senses for perception. I’m giving you a minute to discuss with your partners what it might be.”
G considered it. She and Sereen exchanged equally confused glances.
Like a dutiful student, S started summarising Poe’s arguments but Gentry listened with only half an ear. She felt that behind all this over-thinking was a clear and simple answer.
She watched the professor walk along the aisles, tuning into one or another conversation before leaving each with a smug head shake of disapproval.
What was there to think about? Even if they didn’t see the world precisely as it was, something was definitely real, right? The chair she felt under her buttocks, the air around, the low murmur of the students. The annoying professor that… looked a little too translucent.
Gentry waited for the man to approach their desks and tune into Sereen’s musings. As he came so near they could reach out and touch him, Gentry did just that.
To her utter shock, her hand went through the old jacket and sent a wave of static over the professor’s figure, his whole form glitching and flickering.
Professor Poe was a hologram!
Unable to help herself, Gentry said, “No wonder you don’t think anything is real, Professor, you are hardly real yourself!”
The whole roomful of people stared, transfixed, at the surreal scene of a student’s arm disappearing into the teacher’s abdomen.
Gentry looked back at Sereen in search of support.
Was it laughter in her eyes?
Poe’s blood drained from his face, the mouth slacked open, twitching as if trying to form some words, but none came out.
Sereen chimed in, “You never told us you were a simulation, Professor.”
“Out!” Poe gritted lowly so that no one really heard him.
“I’m sorry?” G asked, innocently.
“Out of my class!” he exploded, jumping out of Gentry’s reach with an enraged grimace. “I am as real as you are!”
G stood up and looked at her hand then back at Professor Poe.
How much rage could storm in those watery eyes?
Then, she winked at her new friend.
“Let’s go then, shall we?” she said.
Sereen looked lost for a second, her eyes darting pack and forth between Gentry and Poe. Then, her gaze seemed to cloud a little, as if she retreated into her own head, but when she resurfaced, she nodded with a mischievous smile.
Both young women left the room, the classmates’ sympathetic silence and Poe’s angry seething seeing them off.
***
“What a way to start my first day,” Gentry said. “My hands are still trembling a bit.”
She and S were calming their nerves in the green winter garden, the soothing sound of the little running streamlet at their feet a welcome distraction.
“Believe it or not, his course is actually quite useful,” Sereen laughed. “Who would have thought the old Poe is actually not human? I guess we never thought of poking him in the stomach before. This is going to be the talk of the Academy for the next month or so!”
“Is it? I feel bad now. I guess I’m not getting any points for attending this lecture, right?” — Gentry checked her wristcomm — “It says “zero progress” and something else… ad.. Honi… adhonim…”
Sereen laughed, “Yeah, you adhominem’ed good old Poe, no wonder you got zero credit!”
“What does it mean?”
“You’ve seen the rules of learning and discourse, right?” S said. “There are no-nos, things that aren’t allowed, especially when it comes to Rationality classes and the like. Ad Hominem means an attack on the speaker, not their argument. It isn’t exactly what you did, but I guess it’s the closest thing!”
“Ad Hominem, huh,” G said. “Well, I guess I deserve it then. Thanks for standing by me.”
If it wasn’t for Sereen, G wasn’t sure she would be going to return to the Academy any time soon!
“You just chose a wrong course as your first class, G,” — no doubt about that! — “But another lecturer who works here is much more open-minded and he also teaches Rationality. I think you’ll enjoy him more than our old Poe. His next class is in a couple of days. Wanna come?”
***
DEAR GENTRY!
CONGRATULATIONS ON COMPLETING AN OPTIONAL ASSIGNMENT! 20 POINTS HAVE BEEN ADDED TO YOUR STATUS COUNTER.
submitted by Silver_liver to RoleReversal [link] [comments]
chapters 1&2
chapter 3
chapter 4
chapter 5
chapter 6
chapter 7
chapter 8
chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
The Academy looked normal enough from the distance but blew Gentry’s mind when she finally entered it. First of all, the way in lay through a massive winter garden full of the most luxurious botanical collection she’s ever seen. Not only that, but it seemed to be arranged in a way that offered spaces for hanging out as well as paths in and out. Here and there, G noticed little nooks with people’s voices coming from them and small murmuring streams gleamed in the sun that blazed through the transparent walls and roof. This place looked magical and invited to stay, enjoy the refreshing coolness and peace of mind. But Gentry had a good enough rest in her communal room the night before and was eager to start working on her first assignment that the System had spat out with a congratulating letter. Figuring out the controls of her new wristcomm was simple enough.
DEAR GENTRY!
WE ARE DELIGHTED TO INFORM YOU THAT YOU ARE THE FIRST CONTESTANT TO CLEAR ALL CHALLENGES AND OBTAIN THE STATUS OF AN ASHTAPADAN NEWCOMER! YOUR MEDICAL DATA HAS BEEN ANALYSED AND FOUND ACCEPTABLE.
IN THE ATTACHMENT TO THIS LETTER YOU WILL FIND A LIST OF RULES, RECOMMENDATIONS AND IDEAS THAT WILL DEFINITELY HELP YOU IN THE FIRST WEEKS IN OUR BEAUTIFUL CITY BUT WE STRONGLY RECOMMEND FINDING A BUDDY THAT WOULD BE YOUR MAIN GUIDE AND POTENTIALLY A NEW GREAT FRIEND! IT CAN BE ANY CITIZEN OR A MORE EXPERIENCED NEWCOMER.
YOUR CURRENT POINTS: 0
WHY NOT START EARNING SOME WITH YOUR FIRST ASSIGNMENT?
START ANY BEGINNER COURSE AT THE ACADEMY AND KEEP YOUR ATTENDANCE RATE OVER 80% — WORTH 50 POINTS
(OPTIONAL) FIND SOMEBODY WHO IS WILLING TO BECOME YOUR BUDDY — WORTH 20 POINTS
Without stopping to check if the vending machines offered anything good, G made her way through the dreamy garden and entered the inner yard that looked just like everything here: nothing too eye-catching at first glance but secrets hidden everywhere.
One thing she had already noticed was that most of the people had another piece of technology on their bodies besides the comm on their wrists: a sort of extendable visor that some of them kept engaged at all times. Those who were focused on the screen had a comical look on their faces, a thousand-mile stare, eyes wide even as they were talking to each other or going about their business. It was unclear yet why they would engage the screen for so long though. No one needed this much time to read a notification or check a map.
Take a group of young students by the fountain, for example. They seemed deep in conversation with each other yet their pupils didn’t focus on the person in front, but on the translucent screen over the top part of their faces. Was it some kind of virtual reality helmet?
If so, G needed one, too.
Perhaps she’d be able to make new friends this way.
There was something else that caught Gentry’s eye. Despite her initial disappointment about the severe lack of male hotness in the streets, people of both sexes seemed to really care about their appearance. Even those who probably weren’t naturally stunning were very interesting to look at not least because of the crazy fashion sense everyone here had. Never before had G seen so much variety in what everyone wore: countless variations on different national garments, some looking very traditional, like something one could see in a theatre, some — futuristic uniforms straight out of a sci-fi movie. It didn’t seem like anyone was concerned with gender norms here, too. At least in when it came to the outfits.
G hoped she didn’t look like a creepy stalker when her gaze lingered on a pair of very nicely shaped legs stretching from underneath a plaid skirt that belonged to a young man in the group sat by the edge of the water. A pair of snow-white knee-highs, flat loafers and neat raven hair with some blue streaks completed the image. His clothes fit him very well and weren’t inappropriate in the least: something an old money university student would wear.
A female student that is.
And he wasn’t alone. Here and there, among more conventionally dressed people, there were people wearing all sorts of things: a crazy mix of goth-like apparel but barefoot, men and women with heads covered with scarves, people in strange jewelery that looked like it weighed a ton and so on. Most importantly, no one seemed to care what the others looked like.
Was it paradise? Looks like the demo didn’t lie: it was heaven on earth.
The young man in the middle of the student gaggle caught her staring after all. With a dazzling smile, he waved in her direction as if they were great friends, and G waved back, face heating, hoping there wasn’t anyone behind her this tease was actually waving at. Thank god his shoes weren’t heeled, otherwise she would definitely have a heart attack right here, in the middle of the common area, on her first day.
Did he notice her ogling his legs? Judging by the giggles of his friend's entourage, they all did. The young flirt covered his mouth, eyes wide in mock indignation and pulled his knees in, as if hiding them from the improper attention, getting even more laughter from the rest of the company. G averted her eyes and tried to calm her breathing as she was on her way through the yard again, but before they all disappeared from her field of view, she noticed the coquette stretch his legs again and fall back on a friend of his, embracing the lucky man’s neck in an affectionate gesture, already forgetting G existed.
There was no way she wasn’t going to make some pretty boy do the same for her. Forget the assignment, put that in the list of her top priorities!
At first, Gentry was lost when she failed to find any kind of class schedule and there was no one to ask at the reception desk.
Why have a reception desk if nobody’s on duty?
Soon, however, it occurred to her that there was no schedule: each room within the wide marble corridors had a small display with a handwritten message scribbled on it.
Bachata for beginners
Product engineering (Tuesday class cancelled)
Colloidal chemistry (revision today)
None of these were the Communications course that Jey was talking about, but the variety definitely made G’s eyebrows go up.
Was she just supposed to barge into any class and sign up? Did she have to sign up later if she liked the subject? Was it ok to choose any?
After some wandering around, too scared to just walk in uninvited or ask others for directions, she finally stumbled across the door saying:
Communication & decision making course (Newcomers welcome)
With the desks arranged in a horseshoe and the people of various ages that were also apparently Newcomers, it all seemed comfortably casual. Everyone was chatting as she walked in, paying G no mind so she busied herself with the wristcomm that dinged at exactly the right time to save her the embarrassment of looking for a desk.
Would you like to enroll in this course? Scroll down to read the description.
Was this damn thing a spying device? Did it just know which room she was in? Jey didn’t joke when she said the little thing was going to be her primary aid!
“Are you looking for somewhere to sit?” called a young red-haired woman at one of the paired desks. “Here, this one is free.” She had the auglasses on, like everyone else, but they were off, showing her lively face and a pair of sharp green eyes.
“Thanks,” G said, gratefully taking the offer. “I’m new here, don’t know how things work yet.”
“It’s alright, the course is very engaging, you’ll love it.” — the woman held out a hand — “I’m Sereen, what’s your name?”
G shook the warm palm. “It’s Gentry. And by new I mean I’m new to Ashtapada, not just the course. Literally arrived yesterday.”
“Really?” — S looked surprised — “Everything must be very confusing!”
“You have no idea,” G smiled. “I’m glad someone understands. Everyone’s friendly but acts as if giant mechanical dogs in the streets and a moss garden in the lobby are the most normal things ever.”
“Don’t worry, I was just like you when I first arrived, you’ll get the hang of it soon.”
“Hope so! Is that the lecturer?”
“Shhh...”
Just like everything else in Ashtapada, the lecture started out normal enough only to unfold into something completely alien to how things were normally done.
Apparently, the Communications course involved learning rationality, debating, logic, etiquette and god knew what else. It was supposed to give the future citizens tools to, well, communicate. G was given a booklet with some ground rules for beginners that included entries that sounded like something Sun Tzu would say if he studied debating instead of warcraft.
“The purpose of any argument is not to win it and not to change the other disputant’s mind. It’s to find the truth.”
“Always argue in good faith.”
“Don’t attack your opponent.”
“If attacked, dismiss the attack as if it didn’t happen.”
Well, hopefully, it only meant verbal attacks! G knew too well that when it came to physical violence, it was hard to ignore it.
Most of the rules looked straightforward enough, some were confusing.
“Seek challenge to your convictions. Avoid echo chambers.”
“Don’t seek being right.”
“Be mindful of your audience including yourself.”
“Avoid “Empty arguments” that don’t bring everyone closer to the goal of finding the truth.”
The lecturer, a willowy man of about sixty that drowned in his tweed jacket, started the class with a bit of small talk with the regulars after distributing the booklets to all first-timers. He made sure to give it to G face down so that his photo under the “About the author” title didn’t go unnoticed. He also made most of the “talk” part himself.
“I never took part in a debate,” G told Sereen, who was patiently waiting for the class to begin. “And never seen anything like these rules. Is it actually useful?”
“Oh, believe me, professor Poe will be ecstatic to talk to you about them. He can’t not start discussing his subject at the slightest provocation. Look.” — she raised her hand — “Professor, how was your weekend?”
The man wearily smiled. “That might seem like a meaningless question, Sereen, but it’s actually very much related to the topic we are going to cover today.”
“See?” — S raised her eyebrows with a suppressed smile. G giggled. This promised to be interesting.
“Our friend Sereen is a very polite person, isn’t she?” — Poe smiled at the class but his eyes glided over everyone’s faces, gaze turned inwards like he was reading an invisible text written on the walls. “But as kind as she is, I don’t think she’s actually interested in how my weekend went. Small talk is just a social custom we engage in to strengthen our social relations. Why don’t we just start a day by saying “Hi! I value our relationship and would like to fulfill my societal role!” to everyone we know? I would definitely prefer THAT over the small talk! He-he!”
The audience laughed politely. The guy seemed alright.
“However, just as we use different tools to fulfill this role in different contexts, so can the context of a logical problem steer our thinking towards a rational, that is, right, and an irrational, that is, wrong, answer.”
“Well, that’s not a given,” Gentry mumbled under her breath but it went unnoticed by S, who was already immersed in the lecture.
“Consider the famous René Descartes’s quote "Cogito, ergo sum". Who can translate it from Latin?” — the board behind the thin, almost transparent man glowed, displaying the words.
“Is it really a Beginner’s course?” G asked Sereen in a low voice but her companion was already raising her hand, together with a dozen other students.
“I think, therefore I am,” she said after a curt nod of the lecturer’s permission.
“Very good,” he continued, pleased. “I taught you well. Those of you who attend my lectures regularly are familiar with the notion of solipsism, which states that the only thing we can be sure about is our own thoughts.”
Gentry looked at S with raised eyebrows.
If this is an introductory course, what was the advanced like?
Sereen didn’t seem to perplexed. She was fully following the thread.
“However,” professor Poe said. “I am going to challenge that notion by demonstrating that we can’t trust our own mind when it comes to perceiving reality.”
He looked at the audience with a quizzical eye, and pointed at Gentry with a long bony finger “You, new girl. I want you to close your eyes.”
Why her?
Gentry was only happy to hide behind her eyelids. No doubt the whole room was now staring at her.
Through the blood rushing in her ears, she heard the old man’s voice, “Who was sitting beside you before you closed your eyes?”
“My new friend Sereen,” G answered and heard a little gasp of appreciation from the woman.
“So you know she existed as long as you two were whispering behind my back. However, now that you can’t see or hear her. How do you know she exists?”
“Well, I can reach with my hand and touch her,” Gentry said, demonstrating.
“Yes, this is what most people answer,” Poe said. “You can open your eyes now. But let me ask you this: how would you know it was her, an not some other person that took her place?”
Gentry’s intuition was right: everyone was staring, as if waiting for her answer.
“Well, I suppose— ”
“Hush, it was a rhetorical question,” the professor cut her off. “The correct answer is that you can’t know that. We think we can trust our senses or at least our thoughts, but this is also false. Everyone, look out of the window.”
Everyone did.
The day was as fine as Gentry was annoyed.
What did this pops think of himself?
“I’d ask what you see, but I already know the answer,” he went on. “All of you would say “the sky”. And all of you would be wrong, because sky doesn’t exist. We only see the endless emptiness of the outer space, but perceive it as a blue dome. It’s an illusion, a phantom, born out of our collective unconscious.”
Sereen whispered, lost in the lecture, “Ah, yes, Carl Jung.”
What?
Was it supposed to be obvious?
“But listen to this,” he continued, voice booming like a demiurge’s in the completely silent room. “Listen to this. How many words is it? Listentothis. Our common sense says it’s three words while in reality it’s just a string of sounds I an producing with my mouth. I am literally making you hallucinate the spaces between the words I’m saying. With knowing that our perception is so flawed, how can we know that we even know how to think?”
“I’m sorry, professor, I disagr...” G started but got struck down by his serrated gaze.
“I’ll invite questions at the end, young miss,” he chopped out.
Sereen’s eyes were sympathetic. It looked like most if not all of professor Poe’s students had learned not to interrupt him.
He went on, “Anyway, the fact that you even understand what I am saying is in itself incredible and shouldn’t be possible.”
“But it IS possible, right?” G whispered to Sereen. “I mean, aren’t we understanding this as he speaks?”
“PLEASE refrain from talking unless asked!” professor Poe roared.
Impressive lung capacity for such a frail human being!
G begrudgingly did as she was told. The guy seemed to be enjoying this power trip a bit too much to her taste.
“Now, since most of you,” he put some emphasis on the word to shut up another pair of whispering students. “Most of you think you comprehend my words, you must know that there is a way to tell that something is real, even though we can’t rely on our senses for perception. I’m giving you a minute to discuss with your partners what it might be.”
G considered it. She and Sereen exchanged equally confused glances.
Like a dutiful student, S started summarising Poe’s arguments but Gentry listened with only half an ear. She felt that behind all this over-thinking was a clear and simple answer.
She watched the professor walk along the aisles, tuning into one or another conversation before leaving each with a smug head shake of disapproval.
What was there to think about? Even if they didn’t see the world precisely as it was, something was definitely real, right? The chair she felt under her buttocks, the air around, the low murmur of the students. The annoying professor that… looked a little too translucent.
Gentry waited for the man to approach their desks and tune into Sereen’s musings. As he came so near they could reach out and touch him, Gentry did just that.
To her utter shock, her hand went through the old jacket and sent a wave of static over the professor’s figure, his whole form glitching and flickering.
Professor Poe was a hologram!
Unable to help herself, Gentry said, “No wonder you don’t think anything is real, Professor, you are hardly real yourself!”
The whole roomful of people stared, transfixed, at the surreal scene of a student’s arm disappearing into the teacher’s abdomen.
Gentry looked back at Sereen in search of support.
Was it laughter in her eyes?
Poe’s blood drained from his face, the mouth slacked open, twitching as if trying to form some words, but none came out.
Sereen chimed in, “You never told us you were a simulation, Professor.”
“Out!” Poe gritted lowly so that no one really heard him.
“I’m sorry?” G asked, innocently.
“Out of my class!” he exploded, jumping out of Gentry’s reach with an enraged grimace. “I am as real as you are!”
G stood up and looked at her hand then back at Professor Poe.
How much rage could storm in those watery eyes?
Then, she winked at her new friend.
“Let’s go then, shall we?” she said.
Sereen looked lost for a second, her eyes darting pack and forth between Gentry and Poe. Then, her gaze seemed to cloud a little, as if she retreated into her own head, but when she resurfaced, she nodded with a mischievous smile.
Both young women left the room, the classmates’ sympathetic silence and Poe’s angry seething seeing them off.
***
“What a way to start my first day,” Gentry said. “My hands are still trembling a bit.”
She and S were calming their nerves in the green winter garden, the soothing sound of the little running streamlet at their feet a welcome distraction.
“Believe it or not, his course is actually quite useful,” Sereen laughed. “Who would have thought the old Poe is actually not human? I guess we never thought of poking him in the stomach before. This is going to be the talk of the Academy for the next month or so!”
“Is it? I feel bad now. I guess I’m not getting any points for attending this lecture, right?” — Gentry checked her wristcomm — “It says “zero progress” and something else… ad.. Honi… adhonim…”
Sereen laughed, “Yeah, you adhominem’ed good old Poe, no wonder you got zero credit!”
“What does it mean?”
“You’ve seen the rules of learning and discourse, right?” S said. “There are no-nos, things that aren’t allowed, especially when it comes to Rationality classes and the like. Ad Hominem means an attack on the speaker, not their argument. It isn’t exactly what you did, but I guess it’s the closest thing!”
“Ad Hominem, huh,” G said. “Well, I guess I deserve it then. Thanks for standing by me.”
If it wasn’t for Sereen, G wasn’t sure she would be going to return to the Academy any time soon!
“You just chose a wrong course as your first class, G,” — no doubt about that! — “But another lecturer who works here is much more open-minded and he also teaches Rationality. I think you’ll enjoy him more than our old Poe. His next class is in a couple of days. Wanna come?”
***
DEAR GENTRY!
CONGRATULATIONS ON COMPLETING AN OPTIONAL ASSIGNMENT! 20 POINTS HAVE BEEN ADDED TO YOUR STATUS COUNTER.
2024.05.14 22:41 HarveyMaido First time playing FNV - Zion's 'Survivalist' is the best bit so far.
Right, I don't post on Reddit often. However I just want to share this. So, I'm playing the Honest Hearts DLC and I absolutely hate it so far. It's not hitting me, y'know? I'm just like getting through it at this point and just skipping the dialogue to get the gist. I love the little area of Zion, but otherwise it's dull. The worst bit? No radio.
I cannot STAND this game without the radio! Having no radio genuinely just makes the combat so blatantly terrible that I'm just bored. Not to mention how little is in Zion, most of the things to kill are just mole rats and geckos, or the occasional bug, sometimes a bear (which dies in like 3 shots to the head??)
Anyway, I decide to play a bunch of old timey music in the back to make up for this which increases the enjoyment by at least a good 50%, and I get rlly intrigued in this Survivalist's storyline. So, I just dive into it, running around to find any location possible to connect. I'm actually missing ONE other note at this point.
I know his wife and kid died and he got lucky to survive, he hid out unable to kill himself, and eventually moved on. However, I don't know what the fuck happens in-between that, because suddenly he's just killing a bunch of 22 Vault Dwellers, so I'm lost. Then, he impregenates one a year later (after EATING the last remaining Vault Dwellers) and she dies in miscarriage.
Suddenly, I'm desperately trying to find more. I'm on some fucking random cliff trying to shoot a Yaoi Guai up from above when my game crashes. I load my last save, which was just facing a bit away from the cliff. So I start heading up, and there he fucking is. That same duffel bag, just layin there in front of me. I'm like OH SHIT, and I'm on it, I'm reading that juicy gossip from this fella, and then... he's fucking God? Is this man Zion's praised God? This is like a whole section of the Wasteland's Bible and it's just some old dude who survived long enough to give some nice letters to a bunch of random kids, who ended up becoming the tribes of Zion for years to come? It's genius. I love it.
To make this even better, that little playlist I had? It was playing Praise God and Pass the Ammunition. Made this DLC a far, far better experience.
submitted by HarveyMaido to Fallout [link] [comments]
I cannot STAND this game without the radio! Having no radio genuinely just makes the combat so blatantly terrible that I'm just bored. Not to mention how little is in Zion, most of the things to kill are just mole rats and geckos, or the occasional bug, sometimes a bear (which dies in like 3 shots to the head??)
Anyway, I decide to play a bunch of old timey music in the back to make up for this which increases the enjoyment by at least a good 50%, and I get rlly intrigued in this Survivalist's storyline. So, I just dive into it, running around to find any location possible to connect. I'm actually missing ONE other note at this point.
I know his wife and kid died and he got lucky to survive, he hid out unable to kill himself, and eventually moved on. However, I don't know what the fuck happens in-between that, because suddenly he's just killing a bunch of 22 Vault Dwellers, so I'm lost. Then, he impregenates one a year later (after EATING the last remaining Vault Dwellers) and she dies in miscarriage.
Suddenly, I'm desperately trying to find more. I'm on some fucking random cliff trying to shoot a Yaoi Guai up from above when my game crashes. I load my last save, which was just facing a bit away from the cliff. So I start heading up, and there he fucking is. That same duffel bag, just layin there in front of me. I'm like OH SHIT, and I'm on it, I'm reading that juicy gossip from this fella, and then... he's fucking God? Is this man Zion's praised God? This is like a whole section of the Wasteland's Bible and it's just some old dude who survived long enough to give some nice letters to a bunch of random kids, who ended up becoming the tribes of Zion for years to come? It's genius. I love it.
To make this even better, that little playlist I had? It was playing Praise God and Pass the Ammunition. Made this DLC a far, far better experience.
2024.05.14 22:38 Due-Flounder3748 my bf(M26) shoves receipts to my face to prove me(F24) wrong to win every argument
okay so we have been dating for 5 months now, long story short, we were to meet tomorrow like after 2 weeks and he's not a texter, my messages are mostly on read, i texted him about something else in the noon and, no reply all day. until he responds midnight and i ask, what's the plan for tomorrow and he says, he isn't sure and has meetings. since i had arranged things as a surprise, like cinnamon rolls, etc. that i wanted him to have fresh, i told him, he should've communicated to me earlier and he said, why did i even assume that we were to meet 3 pm? that's not his problem, bc we usually meet the time we are set to meet tomorrow 6pm, and i said, no we have met earlier as well, to which he goes to older chats and comes back and says, i am wrong.
so the problem is this isn't the first time he has done this, i know i can assume things and also be forgetful, and i am trying to be better at it but sometimes he becomes so literal and shoves receipts onto my face just to prove me wrong just because i merely asked for a simple communication text prior. (i feel like he's a terrible communicator and always expects me to be understanding) and maybe he thinks i gaslight him? i really do not. i told him we have met at 4:30ish before and he goes, "no we usually meet at 5- 6 and here's the receipt". going so LITERAL about it. i take a few breaths and go: ‘look babe i just needed to be communicated that you had meetings, that’s all’ and to which he responds let me fix it for you and goes with very condescending tone: "hey babe i didn't know you were assuming we are meeting earlier, even tho we have never met at 3-4ish and i have meetings and i am not sure about the timings tomorrow but i'll lyk, shit my bad" “oh no i forgot i have telepathy" and this made me feel so horrible, i feel so stupid and disrespected.
we had a fight two days back, i told him we weren't meeting and i feel invisible and forgotten in the relationship because he barely texts me, we barely talk and i feel like i make most of the plans and he goes, here are the receipts, we do talk and he does initiate calls, text messages and plans meet ups. knowing he leaves me on read for 16-18 hours or more btw. but i still ended up being super super apologetic for addressing my needs. honestly idk what to do, this made me cry, i feel so stupid, my dumbass had planned things for him and was writing a love letter for him when this happened.
TLDR: my bf shoves receipts onto my face of our old chats and becomes so literal and today acted so condescending while proving me wrong because i addressed a communication gap on his part, e.g: requiring a simple communication text regarding timings prior to our meet up, as i was left on seen for 18 hours (he usually leaves me on read like that, yea), just to tell me he wasn’t sure about the timing for tomorrow very last minute and says it’s my fault i assumed it to be earlier as i placed an order of bakery goods for him that i wanted him to have fresh.
submitted by Due-Flounder3748 to relationships [link] [comments]
so the problem is this isn't the first time he has done this, i know i can assume things and also be forgetful, and i am trying to be better at it but sometimes he becomes so literal and shoves receipts onto my face just to prove me wrong just because i merely asked for a simple communication text prior. (i feel like he's a terrible communicator and always expects me to be understanding) and maybe he thinks i gaslight him? i really do not. i told him we have met at 4:30ish before and he goes, "no we usually meet at 5- 6 and here's the receipt". going so LITERAL about it. i take a few breaths and go: ‘look babe i just needed to be communicated that you had meetings, that’s all’ and to which he responds let me fix it for you and goes with very condescending tone: "hey babe i didn't know you were assuming we are meeting earlier, even tho we have never met at 3-4ish and i have meetings and i am not sure about the timings tomorrow but i'll lyk, shit my bad" “oh no i forgot i have telepathy" and this made me feel so horrible, i feel so stupid and disrespected.
we had a fight two days back, i told him we weren't meeting and i feel invisible and forgotten in the relationship because he barely texts me, we barely talk and i feel like i make most of the plans and he goes, here are the receipts, we do talk and he does initiate calls, text messages and plans meet ups. knowing he leaves me on read for 16-18 hours or more btw. but i still ended up being super super apologetic for addressing my needs. honestly idk what to do, this made me cry, i feel so stupid, my dumbass had planned things for him and was writing a love letter for him when this happened.
TLDR: my bf shoves receipts onto my face of our old chats and becomes so literal and today acted so condescending while proving me wrong because i addressed a communication gap on his part, e.g: requiring a simple communication text regarding timings prior to our meet up, as i was left on seen for 18 hours (he usually leaves me on read like that, yea), just to tell me he wasn’t sure about the timing for tomorrow very last minute and says it’s my fault i assumed it to be earlier as i placed an order of bakery goods for him that i wanted him to have fresh.
2024.05.14 22:33 lupcha Hair loss around eyes and itching – help appreciated!
Hello, people of Reddit! 😊
My dog Mochi, a German Spitz (Mittelspitz), has been suffering from severe itching since March. He licks his paws and scratches his head/eye area frequently. He lost a lot of hair around his eyes.
I hope that someone on here maybe experienced something similar with their dog who can point me to the right direction in where to go from here or give some advice. We’ve already visited the vet a few times because of this and have an appointment for next week as well.
Here are a few photos to show the progression of his hair loss.
As you can see he was completely fine at the start of the year. ☹ It started around the end of March.
He is nearly 2 years old and weights around 10 kg. He has been neutered last year. We’re located in Austria.
Sorry for the long post ahead, but I would like to include as much information as possible.
Information about his food & current medication:
We are also considering going to a specialist / dermatologist. We actually got a letter of referral from our vet to a dermatologist, but the reviews we saw online were pretty mixed (leaning towards pretty bad) and we will probably try to find another one on our own. Still considering our options here.
I’m feeling pretty lost with all of this since it sounds like it could be basically anything. After each vet visit it went from “it’s probably this” to “actually, it might be this AND this” to “well, we could do this test and this test and…”
The current plan would be to see how the Cytopoint works and do the allergy test and then go from there (and probably look for a good dermatologist). I’m not sure if we should also do a test for Leishmaniasis since most of the other symptoms don’t apply to Mochi.
I also sadly don’t have a pet insurance and now I’m not sure if it’s already too late since Mochi already gets medicine for allergies so I’m not sure if he would automatically get excluded from any future tests even if he doesn't have an official diagnosis yet.
If anyone read all of this – thank you so much! I would be thankful for any advice.
submitted by lupcha to AskVet [link] [comments]
My dog Mochi, a German Spitz (Mittelspitz), has been suffering from severe itching since March. He licks his paws and scratches his head/eye area frequently. He lost a lot of hair around his eyes.
I hope that someone on here maybe experienced something similar with their dog who can point me to the right direction in where to go from here or give some advice. We’ve already visited the vet a few times because of this and have an appointment for next week as well.
Here are a few photos to show the progression of his hair loss.
As you can see he was completely fine at the start of the year. ☹ It started around the end of March.
He is nearly 2 years old and weights around 10 kg. He has been neutered last year. We’re located in Austria.
Sorry for the long post ahead, but I would like to include as much information as possible.
Information about his food & current medication:
- We have completely switched to Vet Concept Sana Horse (dry and wet food) to rule out a food intolerance
- He gets some salmon hemp oil from Vet Concept every day since the itching started
- He got Bravecto at the start of April for ticks but also as a prevention for mites
- Mochi currently gets prednisolone tablets (5 mg) in decreasing doses. We have an appointment for next week to give him Cytopoint instead. As I understand from my vet, Cytopoint has less side effects and contains no cortisone. We plan to conduct an allergy test (pre-screening) after 4-6 weeks following the Cytopoint injection
- environmental allergy (maybe dust mites?)
- autoimmune disease
- travel diseases (Leishmaniasis?) Info: Mochi has never left the country we reside in (Austria)
- something else entirely
- Hair loss caused by mites: We had a skin scraping done that came back negative (for mites and fungi)
- a zinc deficiency but if my math isn’t completely off he should be currently getting around 16 mg zinc each day from his food which would cover his need for zinc
- Mochi had bloody diarrhea in early March. We visited the vet for this and got some medicine, and Mochi an injection; he recovered well. Before this point (the diarrhea incident lol) everything was completely okay. He was not itching and his eyes looked normal. I list this point in case the weakened immune system has something to do with the hair loss/itching that followed
- He started licking his paws in mid/late March. At the end of March he started losing hair around his right eye at first, a bit later around his left eye as well
- At the beginning of April we suspected he had mites but the test (mites + fungi) turned out negative. We also changed his food to Vet Concept at this point
- All blood test results so far were perfect (nothing abnormal)
We are also considering going to a specialist / dermatologist. We actually got a letter of referral from our vet to a dermatologist, but the reviews we saw online were pretty mixed (leaning towards pretty bad) and we will probably try to find another one on our own. Still considering our options here.
I’m feeling pretty lost with all of this since it sounds like it could be basically anything. After each vet visit it went from “it’s probably this” to “actually, it might be this AND this” to “well, we could do this test and this test and…”
The current plan would be to see how the Cytopoint works and do the allergy test and then go from there (and probably look for a good dermatologist). I’m not sure if we should also do a test for Leishmaniasis since most of the other symptoms don’t apply to Mochi.
I also sadly don’t have a pet insurance and now I’m not sure if it’s already too late since Mochi already gets medicine for allergies so I’m not sure if he would automatically get excluded from any future tests even if he doesn't have an official diagnosis yet.
If anyone read all of this – thank you so much! I would be thankful for any advice.
2024.05.14 22:28 Real_Swimmer_0179 worried about my best friend's sister, she seems to be unwell after my best friend passed away
One year ago mybest friend passed away tragically, leaving his mother and a younger sister behind. His sister is 19, I had met her 3 years ago for the first time, and I thought that she was really pretty and exactly my type (good girl, but also a bit tomboyish and girly at the same time) and I respected her as my best friend's sister, so I kept my feelings for her for myself. I treated her like she was my own sister, instead of thinking about how happy we'd be together.
I went to visit her mother because she was having trouble with the ceiling, needed to put a barrier on the balcony and to install the things that surround the light bulbs. I dont know how you call them in english.Her husband also passed away, and she's a widow with a low income job and a girl to raise, and my father told me to check in on them once in a while and help them in case they need some help in the house for things to fix
Turns out the issue was that the ceiling leaked in her daughter's room, so I went there. The girl still had a very chilhood sort of bedroom with decorations, and she herself seemed to be so different. I greeted her and shook her hand as we do over here, and she kept studyin g on her desk. I opened the windows to remove the old satellite and install the new receiver, and noticed that there were some crumbs on the side of the window. I asked her about the crumbs, and she said "it's for a little bird that comes to visit me every day"
and I said "ok". Sounds fine... until I found out later, by another friend of mine, that the girl is heavily depressed and hasnt stepped out of home for days since her brother died, and that in college she endured some sort of abuse by some guys, there is a trial going on, this friend said we should do something for her as she is our best friend's sister, and we should protect her, and this also makes sense because I saw in her room packets of a medicine that I looked up and turns out it's an antidepressant. Actually she looked so different from the last time I saw her, she was very pretty, wearing girly summer dresses and long hair and looked so pretty and lovely and now she seems so pale, wears baggy clothes and turtlenecks and seems sort of "without will to live"
and the silly thing she said about the bird worries me too. I feel like that bird is the only interaction she has had in a while. At some point while I was asking her questions about the things to fix, it seemed like she was turning red about to cry. Like, something was very wrong.
I said "I know you miss him, but you have to be strong, for your mom at least" and she said "I dont know... everything is over now. they're not coming back anymore. mom knows that, I know that" (she lost her brother, and also her father a few years earlier).
I did the things I had to do, but I tried to involve her. Like, I asked "where is the hammer? do you have some nails like this one?" and she went looking for things for me in the house in case they already had them, and she tried her best to look for them. even if she didnt find all the things, I always said "ok dont worry, I'm gonna buy them on the store here close to your house"
After I finished, I tried to clean up the place, but she said "no dont worry, I'll clean up. you already did a lot for us thank you" with a very sad face.
I didnt tell her mother anything, I'm sure she's already aware of how her daughter is, but I cant help but think about her. I'm so worried. Should I talk to her mom? Even if I do, what am I supposed to say? I'm just his brother's friend, not someone important for her.
2024.05.14 22:22 AndyReloaded Housing market for an immigrant
I have Italian citizenship and am very eager to move to a European country. But the list is so long, that l need to find a way to narrow it down.
l've been researching every country and l heard that the housing market in The Netherlands is really bad, that there aren't enough houses or buildings to accommodate everyone, and thus prices are very high.
Before getting any further, here's my situation: l'm a 28 year old female from South America. l speak Spanish as my native language and English fluently. l plan to learn the language of the country that l move to, but since l want to move as soon as l financially can, and l assume learning Dutch to a work-place level will take me some years, l'm guessing l'll be counting on my English and Spanish to get by at first. l have no skills or knowledge, l would be going for any entry-level job, minimum-wage kinda stuff. And because of the language barrier, l assume it's best to stay in the big cities where there's more tourism.
Should l discard Netherlands as an option because of the housing problem?
l'm very drawn to this country because of the biking lifestyle, but l wonder if you all think l should scratch it off the list, not just because it might be hard for me to find a place, but also because l'd be contributing to the housing problem for the natives.
submitted by AndyReloaded to NetherlandsHousing [link] [comments]
l've been researching every country and l heard that the housing market in The Netherlands is really bad, that there aren't enough houses or buildings to accommodate everyone, and thus prices are very high.
Before getting any further, here's my situation: l'm a 28 year old female from South America. l speak Spanish as my native language and English fluently. l plan to learn the language of the country that l move to, but since l want to move as soon as l financially can, and l assume learning Dutch to a work-place level will take me some years, l'm guessing l'll be counting on my English and Spanish to get by at first. l have no skills or knowledge, l would be going for any entry-level job, minimum-wage kinda stuff. And because of the language barrier, l assume it's best to stay in the big cities where there's more tourism.
Should l discard Netherlands as an option because of the housing problem?
l'm very drawn to this country because of the biking lifestyle, but l wonder if you all think l should scratch it off the list, not just because it might be hard for me to find a place, but also because l'd be contributing to the housing problem for the natives.
2024.05.14 22:10 DAP969 An alphabet for my new conlang.
Inspired by Creɑtjꝩnj́'jazyc.
submitted by DAP969 to conorthography [link] [comments]
| No. | Letter | IPA | Romanization | Origin |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1 | J j | i~j | i | Latin J, from Greek Ι (iota) with I. |
| 2 | Ꝩ ꝩ | u~v | u, v | The Old Norse letter Ꝩ (vend), from the rune ᚹ, where we also get Ƿ (wynn). |
| 3 | H h | ʔ | ' | Latin H. The pronunciation is comparable to the silent H in Romance languages. |
| 4 | C c | k | c | Latin C. |
| - | Ċ ċ | tʃ | ć | Pronunciation is the same in Maltese and Old English. |
| 5 | Ᵹ ᵹ | ɡ | g | The insular form of G (Ᵹ), where we also get the modern lowercase (g). |
| - | Ᵹ̇ ᵹ̇ | dʒ | ǵ | Same pronunciation as Ġ in Maltese. |
| 6 | N n | n~ŋ | n | Greek Ν (nu). |
| - | Ṅ ṅ | ɲ | ń | |
| 7 | Ʌ ʌ | l | l | Greek Λ (lambda). |
| - | Ʌ̇ ʌ̇ | ʎ | ĺ | |
| 8 | S s | s | s | Latin S. |
| 9 | Ꞅ ꞅ | ʃ | x | The insular form of S (Ꞅ), where we get the long s (ſ). |
| 10 | Z z | z | z | Greek Ζ (zeta). |
| 11 | Ȝ ȝ | ʒ | j | The Celto-Saxon letter Ȝ (yogh). It was used in the surname MacKenȝıe (McKenzie). |
| 12 | T t | t | t | Greek Τ (tau). |
| 13 | Ԁ d | d | d | Latin D. |
| 14 | A ɑ | ä | a | Greek Α (alpha). |
| 15 | O o | o̞ | o | Greek Ο (omicron). |
| 16 | E e | e̞ | e | Greek Ε (epsilon). |
| 17 | Ə ə | ɛ | æ | Glagolitic Ⰵ (estu), from Samaritan ࠄ (iy). |
| 18 | W ꞷ | ɔ | å | Greek Ω (omega). |
| 19 | R ʀ | r | r | Latin R. |
| 20 | P p | p | p | Latin P. |
| 21 | Ь b | b | b | Cyrillic Б. |
| 22 | Ф ɸ | f | f | Greek Φ. |
| 23 | M m | m | m | Greek Μ. |
| 24 | X x | x | h | Greek Χ. |
| 25 | Ꞓ ꞓ | ts | ť | A form of C. |
| 26 | Ʒ ʒ | dz | ď | A form of Z. |
| 27 | I ı | Used to seperate letters. | ' |
2024.05.14 22:08 ejb350 About To Hit My 2000th Movie Logged
 | 24m, and I’m at 1999 movies logged. Although I’m sure I’ve seen maybe 2-3 dozen more movies I can’t remember them enough to log them. submitted by ejb350 to Letterboxd [link] [comments] I’m a bit behind, but I’m currently doing “a movie a day”. There’s been some bumps in the road. I hated, then loved David Lynch. I discovered Ken Russell. I replaced 1/5 of my favorite movies with another director I never paid attention to, Robert Altman. I’ve finally explored non-English films (looks like Japanese is my preferred according to my stats). I remember when my dad passed away in 2017, I had to go through his entire estate and distribute it amongst my siblings. The ONLY thing I insisted on was keeping his movie collection in one place, where I can make sure they are always taken care of (thankfully I’m the only one who reads and got all of his books and comics too without struggle). I’ve replaced my father and am now the librarian. I get calls at 2am asking me “what’s the movie where Michael Keaton is like, a real genius, ya know?” It’s a lot of responsibility, but I gladly do it. I guess I’m here to ask a pretty simple question. I’ve always been curious, and now that I have a reason to even ask: How old are y’all, and how many movies have you seen? Not just logged, but seen overall? And if you have any recommendations on what to watch tonight for my 2000th let me know! I’ve seen pretty much all of the big ones so let me in on some hidden treasures! |
2024.05.14 22:01 NoConsideration482 Please help me translate this tablet I made.
 | I want to preface this by apologizing if this is the wrong sub for this type of cuneiform (I'm new), if so, please point me to the correct one. submitted by NoConsideration482 to Cuneiform [link] [comments] So for a bit of context, a couple of years ago I was a MASSIVE cuneiform fan, and I made several short "tablets" with polymer clay. Eventually, I lost interest and I forgot about it. I now want to get back into Cuneiform and I discovered this tablet I made. My brother scrawled all over the bottom half with a purple Sharpie, but I would be grateful if someone could help me translate the top half (I have highlighted areas I think are letters with a blue pen), as I have completely forgotten the contents of the tablet. All I remember is that it was written in Old Persian Cuneiform. Cheers! https://preview.redd.it/shvsria87g0d1.jpg?width=1920&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=91dadb093efcf10b0c9ed3e6ee36e547a7bec4e6 |
2024.05.14 21:59 Saikour 25 [M4F] Germany/ Anywhere - Looking for someone serious and unusual
Hey you, surely you exist right? Im 25 years old from Germany and am looking for someone that matches my vibe pretty much.
Im introverted and a more thoughtful person, although i do have a whacky and uncharacteristic humor and personality. I tend to get along with loners and unusual people best and can speak german and english.
Im definitly an indoors person, my hobbies include poetry, gaming on pc and watching whatever such as true crime or anime etc. As far as looks go, im more of a feminine guy, 1.80m tall, long hair, some tattoos.
Im no good in writing these things but i am looking for something longterm, have a best friend and partner in one. Quite inexperienced in relationships aswell so theres that. Big + if youre also a gamer.
Anyways, take care and maybe hear you soon o/
submitted by Saikour to ForeverAloneDating [link] [comments]
Im introverted and a more thoughtful person, although i do have a whacky and uncharacteristic humor and personality. I tend to get along with loners and unusual people best and can speak german and english.
Im definitly an indoors person, my hobbies include poetry, gaming on pc and watching whatever such as true crime or anime etc. As far as looks go, im more of a feminine guy, 1.80m tall, long hair, some tattoos.
Im no good in writing these things but i am looking for something longterm, have a best friend and partner in one. Quite inexperienced in relationships aswell so theres that. Big + if youre also a gamer.
Anyways, take care and maybe hear you soon o/
2024.05.14 21:47 thisisme9187 Interesting revelation
For as far back as I can remember, my parents love for me was contingent around how well I did in sports. I remember the fear of playing subpar in a game, only to get screamed at by my parents and then given the silent treatment for days (I was 8). The older I got, the more skilled I became in sports, the more intense the pressure became. I did love sports, but it was my identity. I’d always be signed up for clubs, I’d spend hours a day post school practicing, etc. Weekends would be spent playing game after game, traveling around the state.
I remember our house was adorned with photos of me everywhere playing sports. My mom would love to wear my high school jersey and letter jacket places. The refrigerator was lined with newspaper clippings of my sports games. My dad (who played himself growing up) was no doubt living vicariously through me.
I remember in high school my girlfriend walked into my bedroom and laughed that my room was made out to be a shrine. Posters of me playing sports everywhere, flags with my last name and sports awards, trophies lining every corner, etc. I could care less about any of that, but my mom insisted on decorating my room in that fashion.
After a lifetime of sports, I was recruited to college to play as well. I was injured freshman year and my sports career ended. Honestly I welcomed the end of the pressure. However, that’s when the abuse began with my parents and sibling. It only spiraled for decades until I went no contact a couple years ago.
Nothing I ever did after my sports “career” (graduating with my masters degree, getting a high profile job, getting married, having kids, etc) ever warranted pride from them. If it wasn’t sports related, they didn’t care- and the abuse continued.
My wife and I were recently deep cleaning when we came upon a large tote my mom had given me years ago. She said she was cleaning and packed up all my childhood memories for me to keep. I decided to go through them. The tote is packed full of 1,000s of newspaper clippings of me playing sports, videos of me playing, my old jerseys, trophies, plaques, etc. There are a couple of my yearbooks, and then a box labeled childhood photos of which ALL are sports. Of hundreds, maybe 5 are as a baby and unrelated to sports. Then a box labeled “papers”. Every paper is about sports- college recruiters, awards, etc. That’s it, that’s all my memories.
No growth charts, vaccine charts, doctor visits, childhood pictures unrelated to sports. No baby clothes, drawings, school report cards, school plays, etc.
Only sports. I must admit they kept a lot. And the records of my sports are all meticulously laminated, etc. To a stranger (or to those who try and convince me I’m the issue because my parents “did so much for me always taking me to sports” and I should forgive them) would think they were amazing parents by the looks of the tote. Yet to me it’s so clear, all I was a trophy for them to get recognition for and as soon as I no longer played I lost my value.
Curious if anyone else can relate to this?
submitted by thisisme9187 to EstrangedAdultChild [link] [comments]
I remember our house was adorned with photos of me everywhere playing sports. My mom would love to wear my high school jersey and letter jacket places. The refrigerator was lined with newspaper clippings of my sports games. My dad (who played himself growing up) was no doubt living vicariously through me.
I remember in high school my girlfriend walked into my bedroom and laughed that my room was made out to be a shrine. Posters of me playing sports everywhere, flags with my last name and sports awards, trophies lining every corner, etc. I could care less about any of that, but my mom insisted on decorating my room in that fashion.
After a lifetime of sports, I was recruited to college to play as well. I was injured freshman year and my sports career ended. Honestly I welcomed the end of the pressure. However, that’s when the abuse began with my parents and sibling. It only spiraled for decades until I went no contact a couple years ago.
Nothing I ever did after my sports “career” (graduating with my masters degree, getting a high profile job, getting married, having kids, etc) ever warranted pride from them. If it wasn’t sports related, they didn’t care- and the abuse continued.
My wife and I were recently deep cleaning when we came upon a large tote my mom had given me years ago. She said she was cleaning and packed up all my childhood memories for me to keep. I decided to go through them. The tote is packed full of 1,000s of newspaper clippings of me playing sports, videos of me playing, my old jerseys, trophies, plaques, etc. There are a couple of my yearbooks, and then a box labeled childhood photos of which ALL are sports. Of hundreds, maybe 5 are as a baby and unrelated to sports. Then a box labeled “papers”. Every paper is about sports- college recruiters, awards, etc. That’s it, that’s all my memories.
No growth charts, vaccine charts, doctor visits, childhood pictures unrelated to sports. No baby clothes, drawings, school report cards, school plays, etc.
Only sports. I must admit they kept a lot. And the records of my sports are all meticulously laminated, etc. To a stranger (or to those who try and convince me I’m the issue because my parents “did so much for me always taking me to sports” and I should forgive them) would think they were amazing parents by the looks of the tote. Yet to me it’s so clear, all I was a trophy for them to get recognition for and as soon as I no longer played I lost my value.
Curious if anyone else can relate to this?
2024.05.14 21:46 thisisme9187 Interesting revelation
For as far back as I can remember, my parents love for me was contingent around how well I did in sports. I remember the fear of playing subpar in a game, only to get screamed at by my parents and then given the silent treatment for days (I was 8). The older I got, the more skilled I became in sports, the more intense the pressure became. I did love sports, but it was my identity. I’d always be signed up for clubs, I’d spend hours a day post school practicing, etc. Weekends would be spent playing game after game, traveling around the state.
I remember our house was adorned with photos of me everywhere playing sports. My mom would love to wear my high school jersey and letter jacket places. The refrigerator was lined with newspaper clippings of my sports games. My dad (who played himself growing up) was no doubt living vicariously through me.
I remember in high school my girlfriend walked into my bedroom and laughed that my room was made out to be a shrine. Posters of me playing sports everywhere, flags with my last name and sports awards, trophies lining every corner, etc. I could care less about any of that, but my mom insisted on decorating my room in that fashion.
After a lifetime of sports, I was recruited to college to play as well. I was injured freshman year and my sports career ended. Honestly I welcomed the end of the pressure. However, that’s when the abuse began with my parents and sibling. It only spiraled for decades until I went no contact a couple years ago.
Nothing I ever did after my sports “career” (graduating with my masters degree, getting a high profile job, getting married, having kids, etc) ever warranted pride from them. If it wasn’t sports related, they didn’t care- and the abuse continued.
My wife and I were recently deep cleaning when we came upon a large tote my mom had given me years ago. She said she was cleaning and packed up all my childhood memories for me to keep. I decided to go through them. The tote is packed full of 1,000s of newspaper clippings of me playing sports, videos of me playing, my old jerseys, trophies, plaques, etc. There are a couple of my yearbooks, and then a box labeled childhood photos of which ALL are sports. Of hundreds, maybe 5 are as a baby and unrelated to sports. Then a box labeled “papers”. Every paper is about sports- college recruiters, awards, etc. That’s it, that’s all my memories.
No growth charts, vaccine charts, doctor visits, childhood pictures unrelated to sports. No baby clothes, drawings, school report cards, school plays, etc.
Only sports. I must admit they kept a lot. And the records of my sports are all meticulously laminated, etc. To a stranger (or to those who try and convince me I’m the issue because my parents “did so much for me always taking me to sports” and I should forgive them) would think they were amazing parents by the looks of the tote. Yet to me it’s so clear, all I was a trophy for them to get recognition for and as soon as I no longer played I lost my value.
Curious if anyone else can relate to this?
submitted by thisisme9187 to raisedbynarcissists [link] [comments]
I remember our house was adorned with photos of me everywhere playing sports. My mom would love to wear my high school jersey and letter jacket places. The refrigerator was lined with newspaper clippings of my sports games. My dad (who played himself growing up) was no doubt living vicariously through me.
I remember in high school my girlfriend walked into my bedroom and laughed that my room was made out to be a shrine. Posters of me playing sports everywhere, flags with my last name and sports awards, trophies lining every corner, etc. I could care less about any of that, but my mom insisted on decorating my room in that fashion.
After a lifetime of sports, I was recruited to college to play as well. I was injured freshman year and my sports career ended. Honestly I welcomed the end of the pressure. However, that’s when the abuse began with my parents and sibling. It only spiraled for decades until I went no contact a couple years ago.
Nothing I ever did after my sports “career” (graduating with my masters degree, getting a high profile job, getting married, having kids, etc) ever warranted pride from them. If it wasn’t sports related, they didn’t care- and the abuse continued.
My wife and I were recently deep cleaning when we came upon a large tote my mom had given me years ago. She said she was cleaning and packed up all my childhood memories for me to keep. I decided to go through them. The tote is packed full of 1,000s of newspaper clippings of me playing sports, videos of me playing, my old jerseys, trophies, plaques, etc. There are a couple of my yearbooks, and then a box labeled childhood photos of which ALL are sports. Of hundreds, maybe 5 are as a baby and unrelated to sports. Then a box labeled “papers”. Every paper is about sports- college recruiters, awards, etc. That’s it, that’s all my memories.
No growth charts, vaccine charts, doctor visits, childhood pictures unrelated to sports. No baby clothes, drawings, school report cards, school plays, etc.
Only sports. I must admit they kept a lot. And the records of my sports are all meticulously laminated, etc. To a stranger (or to those who try and convince me I’m the issue because my parents “did so much for me always taking me to sports” and I should forgive them) would think they were amazing parents by the looks of the tote. Yet to me it’s so clear, all I was a trophy for them to get recognition for and as soon as I no longer played I lost my value.
Curious if anyone else can relate to this?
2024.05.14 21:46 thisisme9187 Interesting revelation
For as far back as I can remember, my parents love for me was contingent around how well I did in sports. I remember the fear of playing subpar in a game, only to get screamed at by my parents and then given the silent treatment for days (I was 8). The older I got, the more skilled I became in sports, the more intense the pressure became. I did love sports, but it was my identity. I’d always be signed up for clubs, I’d spend hours a day post school practicing, etc. Weekends would be spent playing game after game, traveling around the state.
I remember our house was adorned with photos of me everywhere playing sports. My mom would love to wear my high school jersey and letter jacket places. The refrigerator was lined with newspaper clippings of my sports games. My dad (who played himself growing up) was no doubt living vicariously through me.
I remember in high school my girlfriend walked into my bedroom and laughed that my room was made out to be a shrine. Posters of me playing sports everywhere, flags with my last name and sports awards, trophies lining every corner, etc. I could care less about any of that, but my mom insisted on decorating my room in that fashion.
After a lifetime of sports, I was recruited to college to play as well. I was injured freshman year and my sports career ended. Honestly I welcomed the end of the pressure. However, that’s when the abuse began with my parents and sibling. It only spiraled for decades until I went no contact a couple years ago.
Nothing I ever did after my sports “career” (graduating with my masters degree, getting a high profile job, getting married, having kids, etc) ever warranted pride from them. If it wasn’t sports related, they didn’t care- and the abuse continued.
My wife and I were recently deep cleaning when we came upon a large tote my mom had given me years ago. She said she was cleaning and packed up all my childhood memories for me to keep. I decided to go through them. The tote is packed full of 1,000s of newspaper clippings of me playing sports, videos of me playing, my old jerseys, trophies, plaques, etc. There are a couple of my yearbooks, and then a box labeled childhood photos of which ALL are sports. Of hundreds, maybe 5 are as a baby and unrelated to sports. Then a box labeled “papers”. Every paper is about sports- college recruiters, awards, etc. That’s it, that’s all my memories.
No growth charts, vaccine charts, doctor visits, childhood pictures unrelated to sports. No baby clothes, drawings, school report cards, school plays, etc.
Only sports. I must admit they kept a lot. And the records of my sports are all meticulously laminated, etc. To a stranger (or to those who try and convince me I’m the issue because my parents “did so much for me always taking me to sports” and I should forgive them) would think they were amazing parents by the looks of the tote. Yet to me it’s so clear, all I was a trophy for them to get recognition for and as soon as I no longer played I lost my value.
Curious if anyone else can relate to this?
submitted by thisisme9187 to narcissisticparents [link] [comments]
I remember our house was adorned with photos of me everywhere playing sports. My mom would love to wear my high school jersey and letter jacket places. The refrigerator was lined with newspaper clippings of my sports games. My dad (who played himself growing up) was no doubt living vicariously through me.
I remember in high school my girlfriend walked into my bedroom and laughed that my room was made out to be a shrine. Posters of me playing sports everywhere, flags with my last name and sports awards, trophies lining every corner, etc. I could care less about any of that, but my mom insisted on decorating my room in that fashion.
After a lifetime of sports, I was recruited to college to play as well. I was injured freshman year and my sports career ended. Honestly I welcomed the end of the pressure. However, that’s when the abuse began with my parents and sibling. It only spiraled for decades until I went no contact a couple years ago.
Nothing I ever did after my sports “career” (graduating with my masters degree, getting a high profile job, getting married, having kids, etc) ever warranted pride from them. If it wasn’t sports related, they didn’t care- and the abuse continued.
My wife and I were recently deep cleaning when we came upon a large tote my mom had given me years ago. She said she was cleaning and packed up all my childhood memories for me to keep. I decided to go through them. The tote is packed full of 1,000s of newspaper clippings of me playing sports, videos of me playing, my old jerseys, trophies, plaques, etc. There are a couple of my yearbooks, and then a box labeled childhood photos of which ALL are sports. Of hundreds, maybe 5 are as a baby and unrelated to sports. Then a box labeled “papers”. Every paper is about sports- college recruiters, awards, etc. That’s it, that’s all my memories.
No growth charts, vaccine charts, doctor visits, childhood pictures unrelated to sports. No baby clothes, drawings, school report cards, school plays, etc.
Only sports. I must admit they kept a lot. And the records of my sports are all meticulously laminated, etc. To a stranger (or to those who try and convince me I’m the issue because my parents “did so much for me always taking me to sports” and I should forgive them) would think they were amazing parents by the looks of the tote. Yet to me it’s so clear, all I was a trophy for them to get recognition for and as soon as I no longer played I lost my value.
Curious if anyone else can relate to this?