I don’t know what happened, or how it happened, but I’m stuck. I was doing fine. Then the pandemic happened. And then I wasn’t doing fine. I became an alcoholic and did drugs- only once. But once was enough. I slowly lost all my motivation and felt that nothing mattered anymore. It didn’t help that some of my professors seemed to think so too. Why the fuck should I give a shit about academics if they didn’t either?
I learnt nothing for the majority of my degree. I didn’t enjoy it. I can’t believe I paid to stare at a screen all day and be locked in a room miles away from my family. I became an adult in a faux prison cell.
Fuck!
I could have finished my degree if it weren’t for the last semester. I couldn’t give a shit. I was done. I didn’t care anymore. I finished all of my courses but needed to write a thesis. How the fuck was I supposed to write a thesis if I was hardly taught anything?
Here I am three years later about to fail again since I haven’t bothered to start putting pen to paper. I want to cry but I feel nothing. I’m a delusional failure who chooses not to climb out of the hole I’ve dug myself into. I hate it.
I could try hand in my thesis in two weeks, but I haven’t even contacted the coordinator. Would they even let me start now? I’ve lost so much money and time. I’m losing my youth to my own incompetence. I’ve lied to my friends- they think I graduated alongside them. My high school classmates would be shocked to find out their clever classmate is the only one who failed to get a degree.
I just want someone to tell me I can do it, to hold my hand for once. I could have paid someone to write my thesis like some classmates have done, but even in my failure I refuse to stoop so low. But in a way, I am worse than them…
I just want this to be over with. I can’t move on. I hate working the measly jobs I’ve wasted years on. I want to be successful and get a job I love that pays a living wage. But I feel like that dream is a load of crap. Even if I did get my degree, why would any successful firm choose to hire me after failing so many times?
I am stuck in an endless loop of wanting to complete my thesis yet being mentally incapable of starting it. I don’t know how to break this chain. Someone please help me. I’m tired of lying to my family that I’m ok, and that I’ll complete my degree for real this time, no really. Sometimes I just want to stop existing since it’d be so much simpler.
I’m such a mess.

Understanding Credit Card Rewards Programs

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Manufactured Spending

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Stay Informed and Engaged

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Conclusion

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Apologies for the long post, thank you to anyone who takes the time to read it!
I’m a psych honours student in Canada. I’m planning to apply for MA/PhD programs for fall 2025. Specifically, I’m planning to apply to McGill, Concordia, Dalhousie, McMaster, Waterloo, and SFU. I want to go east, preferably in Montreal, but I know I can’t be too picky. My first few years of uni were rough and I had some pretty terrible grades, I’m wondering how bad this will affect my application because most programs say they only look at the last 60 credits (20 classes). My transcript is roughly like this (VW = voluntary withdrawal):
Fall 2018: B B VW
Winter 2019: B B C+ C+
Fall 2019: B C+ C
Winter 2020: C C VW F (repeated F and got A)
Fall 2020: B+ B+ C+ VW
Winter 2021: VW VW VW VW
Fall 2022: didn’t attempt any classes
Winter 2023: A+ A A B+
Summer 2023: A+ A
Fall 2023: A A VW
Winter 2024: A A A A-
Summer 2024: A
Fall 2024: A+ A A A-
Winter 2024: A+ A A A-
As you can see, I had a rough start to uni with some pretty terrible grades and lots of withdrawals. Most of the poor grades are non-major courses. I’m just not sure whether this will be a problem, if they only look at the last 60 credits I should be fine (>4.0/4.5). I’ve also never taken 5 classes at a time, I was incapable at first and in my upper level years it wasn’t necessary due to degree pacing, I would graduate at the same time with 4 or 5.
Besides grades, I’m doing my thesis next year with a good up-and-coming researcher in my area of interest (inductive reasoning) and I have an established senior researcher (the department chair) as my secondary, so I will have some strong LORs. I have no research experience as of yet, but my supervisor is trying to get me a job in his lab. I was planning on doing counselling psych for a while, so I have a year of experience in entry-level mental health at a non-profit. I also have TA experience for 1 semester of intro stats, and I was offered another TA position for a full year (6 credit) advanced stats course next year.
I know that psychology is competitive, but I’m not sure how experimental compares to clinical. If anyone has any idea if I stand a chance, I would be grateful to hear it. Also, if anyone has any advice to strengthen my application, or knows how I should address my early grades in my personal statement, that would help a lot. Finally, should I apply to some worse schools?
Thank you all.

The post the other day about prepared/heightened spells had me thinking about the comparative strength of prepared and spontaneous casting in this system. I had previously defaulted to believing that prepared casting was stronger in PF2E. After all, in a typical 3.5-ish system, the day to day versatility of prepared casting tends to outweigh the in-day versatility of spontaneous casting. However, as I ran through the typical arguments for why prepared casting is better in older systems, I started to feel like they didn't apply to 2E anymore. In fact, it seemed like spontaneous casting had a clear edge. The main reasons:

• You can no longer leave a slot open during spell preparation and fill it midday. Equivalent functionality requires a class feat (split spell), an arcane thesis with severe opportunity cost (spell substitution), etc. Having a "blank check" slot that you could fill with the correct utility spell as needed was incredibly useful, and removed a lot of guesswork.
• There are fewer truly great spells overall, such that a spontaneous caster has an easier time knowing all of them. Fear, Slow, Hideous Laughter, Synesthesia, etc. are easy to pick up and have little opportunity cost in your spells known as a spontaneous caster. In older editions, this opportunity cost was much higher; you could only know a fraction of the best available spells, particularly at lower levels.
• Many situational, out-of-combat utility spells are a higher level than before, of uncommon rarity, or both. Speak with Dead/Talking Corpse is a good example: it's a fourth level, uncommon spell now, when it used to be a third level spell with universal access. The same goes for Zone of Truth/Ring of Truth—now uncommon, and also a level higher than before. Tongues/Truespeech is a whopping 2 levels higher and also uncommon. Meanwhile, combat spells are... worse than before in many cases, but not increased in level, and not restricted access. Prepared casters lost a lot of their value because the spells that gave them their versatility were directly nerfed.
• There is no item that lets you recall a spent spell slot (pearl of power, runestone of power) that is cheaper for prepared casters than spontaneous casters. This is a small but important change.
• And the biggest one: targeting the correct defense is incredibly important as a caster in PF2E. As long as a spontaneous caster knows enough spells to target all defenses, they can use their spell slots efficiently to target the correct save in a given encounter. A prepared caster both has fewer slots and is unlikely to be able to efficiently spend those slots to target enemy saves; they have to guess which saves to target and how many times to target them during prep. (Cantrips and focus spells help this somewhat, but are available to both classes of caster anyways.) This is an incredible advantage for spontaneous casters.

Together, these things make me feel like prepared casters are just significantly worse in practical terms than spontaneous casters, and this is even before we begin to take into account class features other than spellcasting (where bard takes a runaway lead). What most strikes me is that prepared casters actually have fewer spell slots, despite needing to guess how times they'll need to target what saves when preparing. Given the importance of targeting the correct save, it honestly seems to me that prepared casters should have more slots than spontaneous casters—not fewer!—on the assumption some will have to be used suboptimally, if not just be totally ineffectual. Even a spell substitution wizard isn't doing too great here—no one is going to enter combat and ask to retreat so they can spend ten minutes repreparing. So overall, prepared casting seems weaker than spontaneous casting.
Has anyone had a different experience? Do you think there's anything I'm missing?
ALSO, IMPORTANT NOTE: THIS IS ABOUT BALANCE AMONG CASTERS AND CASTING STYLES, NOT ABOUT MARTIALS VS. CASTERS

My hands are trembling to the point where I've had to restart this several times. I'm a guy who doesn't scare easily, but this encounter has me shaking like a hit dog. I'm still sitting in my work truck, trying to work up the courage to step outside again. Worse, I'm trying to figure out how I'm going to tell my boss what happened. I was already on thin ice with him, and this shit might cause me to break through to the freezing water below.
But fuck it, because this was weird.
I install cable for a living. I didn't have dreams of stringing cable when I was a little kid, but my previous life choices left me with few options. In high school, I fell in with the wrong crowd. It started with skipping school, sneaking alcohol at weekend parties, and some petty theft, but it didn't stay that way for long. Soon, I dropped out and dedicated my life to committing robberies to pay for my pill addiction. I wasn't living as much as I was running on a treadmill. I did whatever I could to stay on my feet but constantly felt myself slipping.
My bottom came when I was jumped by two guys who sold me pills. I had bought from them before and trusted them, but the feeling was not mutual. Someone had dimed a buddy of theirs out to the police, and he was looking at real jail time. They assumed it was me and beat me senseless.
I was greeted at the door with a punch to the jaw that sent me reeling. My brain, already addled and slowed by Oxi, was in the middle of putting together what was happening when the next punch caught me in the temple. I collapsed to the ground and covered my neck and face as best as I could. The next few minutes were a flurry of punches, kicks, and stomps. When it was all over, I had a broken jaw, a shattered wrist, several wounds that required fifty total stitches, and a concussion.
That's how I kicked my painkiller addiction.
I can joke now, but the next six months were the hardest in my life. The withdrawals I had were the worst thing I've ever experienced. Having them while I was recuperating from my injuries was a circle of hell I didn't think existed. I wanted to die most days and felt lost in the darkness. But sobriety was the beacon on the horizon. Even during my darkest moments, I could still see the fuzzy spark of white light off in the distance. It kept me going. Six months from my beat-down day, I came out the other side healthier but weaker.
I needed a job but had limited skills. Thankfully, I had a former pill buddy who managed to keep steady employment with the cable company. We always got along, and he called in a few favors and hooked me up. I got hired, but it was a struggle. Not the work, which was easy to learn, but dealing with the public without telling them to fuck off. Worse, was trying to avoid the flood of illegal substances that are around you at all times. Customers will offer you weed or pills for all the channels, or bored co-workers will have something to "make the day pass by." It's a lot to dodge, especially if you're in recovery. Whenever I felt the itch again, I'd feel the scar tissue from my wrist surgery, and the itch would pass.
The last week has been one of those "Shit, is it Friday yet?" weeks that seem to be growing in frequency these days. I don't want to bore you with the details, but needless to say, most nights, I needed to reach out to my sponsor and have them talk me off the ledge. We recently had a turnover at the executive level, and my new boss Rory was a tremendous cock. A rager at levels science hasn't ever seen before. Just the worst dude imaginable.
Part of Rory's new crusade was coming in and firing a bunch of guys. The company called it "checking for redundancies in the labor force," but we all knew what it was. He was picking off two classes of people: high earners and guys with spotty pasts. I was in the latter group and imagined it was just a matter of time before my number got pulled. I was on pins and needles all week. I made sure I was the greatest cable installer you'd ever meet. So far, I was getting high marks but the forced joviality was wearing thin.
It's safe to say my joy had left on a one-way ticket. I have no clue when—or if—she'd return.
Back to this shit. I had just finished up my last job of the day when my work phone started buzzing. I cursed and thought about not answering, but the threat of unemployment loomed too large for me to do that. I picked up and knew from the jump my day was far from over. Denise from dispatch asked if I could cover a job left hanging because of "scheduling conflicts" (see: the original installer had been let go). It was near where I was and was a simple install.
I gritted my teeth and agreed. I liked Denise and knew she was worried about the hammer falling on her, too. She thanked me profusely, and promised to bring me cookies tomorrow. Since she's a hellcat in the kitchen and getting close to a dispatcher never hurts, I said no worries. I hung up, balled up my jacket, and screamed into it. I felt better after that.
981 Maple Street was about five minutes away, but it felt like a world away. Maple Street was at the end of the neighborhood where large swaths of grass fields faded into a thicket of woods. The woods rose up into the foothills until they graduated to mountains. To borrow a phrase from Shel Silverstein, the house resided where the sidewalk ends.
The house, an off-white birdhouse ranch type, was a little run-down but no worse than any of the others that populated this neighborhood. This place had been hit hard by economic times, and property values had plummeted. It was slowly recovering. In five years, this would be a place most current residents wouldn’t be able to afford. The front yard had a large oak tree that looked amazing but had killed the grass under its canopy. The rest of the yard looked well cared for.
I knocked and heard a few voices talking on the other side of the door. It opened, and a man in his late 40s stood there with a steaming cup of coffee in one hand. He was tall and thin, save for a middle-aged paunch. His face was starting to crinkle at the edges, but he was southern California middle-aged, which meant he was holding up pretty well. He did look tired, though—the bags under his eyes were full-on steamer trunks.
"You with the cable company?" he asked, knowing I was.
I nodded. "You requested an install, right?"
"Yes, I did. Please, come in."
He opened the door wide, and I walked in. The house was pretty bare with a bachelor pad aesthetic. That didn't make much sense since I heard a female voice talking to him. I assumed it was his wife. I believe in a lot of wild shit, but to think that a wife would be fine with their house decorated like a 23-year-old bachelor lived there was a bridge too far.
"I'm Tom," the guy said, extending his hand. I shook it. "What did you need from my end?"
"Do you know if there was a previous hookup here?"
"Ugh, yeah. There is one in this room and another in the back bedroom."
"Okay. I should put the modem in a spot that'll hit the whole house. The signal can get wonky if it's in a room behind a wall or bricks or anything."
"This room is probably the best spot then," he said.
"Perfect. I have to get under the house, check the old connections, and replace some parts. Where's your hatch to get under the house?"
"Oh, it's around back. You can exit out this side door and walk through the backyard. It's on the eastern side. You might need a screwdriver to remove the grate. Do you need one?"
I pulled a screwdriver from my pocket and showed him. "I should be good. Thank you, though."
"I should've guessed you'd have one."
"I appreciate your concern. Is there anything in the backyard I should be worried about? Dogs? Kids? Wild dogs? Wild kids?"
It was standard banter, and it always got a chuckle out of people. Same thing happened here. "Nothing to worry about," he said. "You should be good."
"Alright. I'll get started so you can get online as soon as possible."
"Great! If you need anything, I'll be doing some work in the back bedroom."
I nodded and headed for the side door. The dining room door led to the pie wedge-shaped backyard, which was larger in the back than the front made it look. The grass was as cooked as its kin in the front, but islands of green weeds seemed to be thriving. In the corner of the lot, an old metal shed stood, rusted to the point where I assumed divine intervention kept it standing. It seemed to have been there since the house had been built – or maybe several decades before.
When I turned the corner of the house, I spotted a woman and child staring into the corner of the yard, their backs facing me. The Woman wore a faded blue dress that fit her well. Tom had, it seemed, out-kicked his coverage with her. I didn't want to startle them, so I offered a friendly "hello" to the pair. The kid started to turn, but the mother placed a hand on their shoulder and kept their heads facing away from me. I squinted along the treeline, trying to see what they were concentrating on, but I didn't see anything unusual.
Just wanting to be done with the job, I let them be and moved on. I turned another corner to the house's short side and spotted the grate leading to the crawlspace. The grate looked as old as the shed, and I wasn't sure I would even need the screwdriver to open it. Hell, I was sure the thing would disintegrate in my hands as soon as I touched it.
I crouched and was about to pull it off when I heard something rustling near me. I glanced back to where I had seen the mom and kid, but they were gone. I assumed I had heard them leaving. I pulled the grate off – I was right, no screwdriver necessary – and as I set it aside, something caught my attention out of the corner of my eye.
It was the kid. A boy around eight or so. But they weren't staring at me exactly. They were looking away from me, staring up at the roof line. I found it odd. Clearly, the kid wanted to talk to me but had turned their back on me. I coughed to let them know that I knew they were there, but they didn't respond.
"Hey man, what's up there?" I said.
"Nothing nice," he said, still keeping their gaze away from me.
"Oh," I said, "Not going to hurt me, is it?"
"Maybe," he said.
Not the answer I was expecting. "What is it?"
"They told me you'd know soon enough."
As he said that, I felt something crawling across my hand. I pulled my hand away from the house and shook it. I saw a spider land in a pile of leaves and scurry away. I let out a nervous laugh. I'm not scared of spiders or anything, but the shock of being told some unseen thing was watching me and didn't look pleased, coupled with the sensation of something on my skin, was enough to justify a quickened heartbeat.
I looked back at where the kid had been standing, but he was gone. I chalked it up to kids being little weirdos and went back to work. The faster I could get this installation done, the quicker I could go home and smoke a bowl. I let Kush be my guide. I put up my hood, turned on my small flashlight, and shimmied through the opening under the house.
I know guys who've worked for the company for years and still dread going into a crawl space. Granted, it's not my favorite thing to do, but I don't mind either. The bugs can be a nuisance but if you don't bother them, they tend to not bother you. Same with rats and mice. Raccoons, though? I crawl out and call animal control. Those little dudes are cute but nasty as all get out. My path today was nothing but cobwebs, so I was okay.
I flashed my light around and saw where the cable line went up into the living room floor. My job here was to ensure the coaxial line's integrity was still good. If it had been chewed on or anything, I'd replace it. Sometimes, I just replaced it anyway—saving myself a potential job later down the line.
I crawled over to where the line came in from the pedestal and started my once-over. I not only looked for any damage but also ran the line through my hands to make sure my eyes didn't miss anything. I was under the dining room area when I heard that side door close.
I stopped. Tom said something, but it was muffled. I wanted to be nosy, so I waited a beat to hear if anyone spoke back to him. Someone did. It was soft and quiet – I assumed it was the Boy – and I didn't make out what they asked, but I did hear Tom's response. In a firm voice, he said, "No, not right now. Run along."
There were footsteps over me that faded into another section of the home. Tom said, "He always wants to jump the gun. How many times do I have to tell him?"
I suppressed a laugh at the last line. It's the official father's lament. I kept moving my hand down the line and didn't feel nicks along the cable. In fact, on closer inspection, the line looked almost new. I was planning to change it, but this looked like it had been installed last week.
I could hear someone walk into the living room as I reached the spot where the line went through the house. Another pair of footsteps followed the first, and I heard a breathy but detached woman's voice ask, "Can we show our faces now?"
"I just told the boy 'no.' What makes you any different?" Tom said, an edge to his voice.
A chill raced through my body. I knew those words, but this conversation made me feel like I spoke another language. Can we show our faces? Why would you not?
"Do you think he'll see us?"
"If I have my way," he said, not finishing that thought. "Leave me be. I must try to get some things done before he leaves, and you two keep bothering me."
What did Tom mean to get some things done before I left? What did he have in mind? While trying to process all this, I heard something shuffle in the darkness just beyond my flashlight beam. I moved it around, trying to see the telltale glowing eyes of varmints, but nothing flashed back at me.
I heard something shuffling again, this time down by my feet. I cocked my head as best as I could and shone the flashlight into that corner of the house but, again, there wasn't anything else down here but me and a thousand spiders. I sighed and finished my inspection of the wire.
As I turned to crawl back out from under the house, I heard somebody sneaking around on the floor above me. The wood groaned as the person moved slowly. I wasn't sure what they were doing, but they wanted to keep it a secret. A shadow fell over the pinprick of light from where the cable went into the house. Someone was standing over it.
"Can you hear them down there? Moving in the dark?" It was the Boy. “They like the dark.”
"What are you saying?"
"The little shadows," he said, "They live down there. Do you hear them?"
This kid was creepy as hell. "I, ugh, I can't hear you, dude," I said, inching my body away from the wire, "We can talk inside."
"They're going to get you, but that's okay," he said, "It only hurts for a little bit, and then you're fine."
Fuck. That. I had no desire to respond to that nightmare of a statement. I hastened my inch-worming, heading back towards the open hatch. As I did, I heard more movement in the darkness around me. I tried to ignore it, but it was a fool's gambit. It was impossible to ignore.
I was getting closer to the opening when I saw a pair of tiny legs walk in front of the hatch. It was the Boy. How did he get there so quickly and without me hearing him run on the floor? I didn't have time to run through the scientific method because the Boy leaned down and placed the metal grate back over the hatch.
"Hey! Hey!" I yelled. "I'm still under here!"
The Boy didn't stop. Instead, he placed a trashcan in front of the grate, enshrouding the entire crawlspace in darkness and trapping me inside.
"Hey! I need you to move that!" I screamed. No response. I raised my fist as high as possible and punched the floor above me to hopefully get Tom’s attention. That was a mistake, as I managed to punch straight into an old nail. I felt it puncture in between my knuckles. The pain was instant, and I let out a howl.
I shook my hand and swore a blue streak. I reached up with my other hand, felt the tip of the nail I had managed to punch, and found a flat spot next to it. I banged hard on the floor and yelled again for some help. Nobody responded. Not at first.
Then I heard someone chuckle under the house.
I couldn't locate where it had come from because it sounded like it was all around me. I swung my light around as best as I could but didn't see anything. No glowing eyes, nothing. I inched forward a bit, and someone laughed again – this time, it was to my right. I turned my light in that direction and saw a sudden flood of light fill the space under the house.
"What the hell?" I said, my desire to leave overtaken by a desire to know what was unfolding next to me.
A pair of kid legs dropped down from the hole in the floor. I realized then that the hole must be an interior crawlspace. The kid had blocked off the metal grate and opened this hatch for some reason. While he dropped his legs down, he didn't move any further.
"Hey, you have to open that metal grate," I yelled. "I don't want to be trapped down here."
"They told me they needed you," he said, followed by a slight chuckle.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" I said, not caring that I was talking to a child. "Open the goddamn grate!"
"The shadows are approaching," he said, pulling himself back into the house. He placed the lid back on the hole, and I was trapped in the dark again. I cursed to myself and started pounding on the floor again.
"Hey! Someone come help me!"
That's when I felt something run across my legs. I nearly jumped out of my skin. It didn't feel like the tiny claws of a passing rat. It was cold to the touch, but as it hit my skin, I felt a burn in my bones. It's hard to explain, but I felt both extremes simultaneously. Whatever it was skittered off into the darkness of the other side of the crawl space.
The kid started laughing again, which brought me back to reality. I army crawled as fast as I could to the grate. I balled up my fist and punched in the middle of the metal. The blow knocked the old nails out of the wall, and the grate broke up. I was about to push away the garbage can when it suddenly wheeled out of the way.
I saw Tom's legs standing there.
"You okay?" he asked, concern in his voice.
I got out from under the house so fast that I left a me-sized dirt cloud in my place. Once out, I shook my body loose as if I had things crawling all over me. Tom watched but didn't say anything at first. We finally locked eyes, and he could see the rage, fear, and confusion on my face. He wisely waited until I spoke first.
"What the hell is wrong with your kid? He blocked me under there and taunted me from the indoor crawlspace."
"What are you talking about?"
"He told me the shadow people or something were watching, and then he blocked me under the house!"
Tom's face twisted up into confusion. "I...I don't understand."
"I can't make it any simpler, Tom!" I screamed, letting unprofessionalism take root.
"I don't have a kid."
It hit me like an Ali right cross. My vision got dizzy, and I struggled to catch my breath. I stared at his face, looking for the sign of a lie or a joke, but he was as stone-faced as an Easter Island statue. After a beat, I found my sense again. "I heard you talking to him in the living room when I was under the house."
"One, I was on a phone call. Two, are you spying on me? What the hell, man?"
"I wasn't spying, and you weren't on the phone," I said. I also heard you talking to your wife. She asked you if she could show her face or something."
"I don't have a wife either."
I shook my head. "I fucking saw them in the backyard! They were staring at the fence!"
Tom paused and cocked his head to the side. When he spoke, it was softly, trying to calm me down. "Are you...did you have a few drinks before the appointment? Or a pill or something? No judging – I know pill heads. I won't report you or anything, but I understand if you need to come back tomorrow with a clearer head."
"I'm sober," I said, gritting my teeth. "But I know what I saw. What I heard."
"As the tree said to the lumberjack, I'm stumped," Tom said. "You look a little flush. You want a bottle of water or something? I can show you I'm here all alone."
My adrenaline had seeped out of my body, and I was starting to feel like myself again. I nodded at Tom, and he smiled. "I'll go grab you one. Do you want to come into the AC?"
"No, I'm okay. I need to double-check the connection to the pedestal."
"Sure. Be bright back," Tom said as he walked off.
But I had no intention of checking the connections. I was going to check on Tom. I didn't believe him at all. Something weird was going on, and I needed to know what. As soon as he turned the corner around the house, I broke out my flashlight and headed back to the crawlspace.
I dropped to the ground and shone my beam into the darkness. Something had crawled on me, and I wanted to see what it was. I moved my light into every section of the crawlspace but saw no eyes glowing back at me.
"If you're under there, call back."
There was nothing. I was starting to feel like a paranoid idiot. I called out once again just to be sure, but again, nothing called back. I shut off my light and sighed. I started pushing myself back to my feet when I heard a faint woman's voice call out, "Can we show our faces now?"
"Not yet," someone hissed from the trees above me. I snapped my head up, expecting to see someone hanging on a branch over my head, but I just saw green leaves.
"Can we show our faces now?" It was the Boy. It sounded like he was on the roof. I shielded my eyes and glanced at the roof but didn't see him.
"No. He's not ready yet," someone whispered in my ear. I snapped around, throwing a punch as I did, only to slam my fist into the fence. I felt one of my knuckles crack as it hit the wood, and the pain shot up my arm like lightning. Within seconds, my hand started to puff up, and blood dripped out the wounds.
The Boy chuckled again. It came from under the house. I looked down at the grate and saw his legs disappear into the darkness.
"Hey!" I called and dropped to the ground. I pulled out my flashlight and shone into the darkness again. I was confident I'd see him, but he wasn't there. Nobody was.
I sat up and felt goosebumps turn my arms into braille. I glanced over to the corner of the house and was surprised to see the disappearing hemline of the faded blue dress. I rushed over to the corner and didn't see the Woman. I saw Tom with a bottle of water.
"You okay?"
"Where did that woman go?" I asked, my voice panicking. "She was just here."
"Sir, do you need me to call your boss for you? You're starting to scare me."
"What's up with this house? Is it haunted?"
Tom started laughing. "I hope not. I just moved in. I'd hate to have roommates again, especially ones who leave ectoplasm all over the place."
As I stared at him, I saw the Woman and the Boy emerge from the other corner of the house. They looked up on the roof, their faces obscured by their hands and the sun. I pointed a finger at them and screamed, "They're right there!"
Tom spun around and looked, but there wasn't anything there. He turned back to me, not sure what to say. Instead, he handed me the bottle of water. "I gotta be honest. I didn't see anything. Drink the water...you might have heat stroke."
I threw the bottle on the ground. "I don't have fucking heat stroke. I have a man that's lying about these things." I got close to him. "What did you have planned for me? Why do they keep asking to show their faces?"
"I don't," he said, but I didn't stay to hear him finish his thought. I walked right past him and turned the corner of the house. As I did, I saw the blue hem disappear through the door that led to the kitchen. I followed right behind her.
I walked into the house, which was as silent as a corpse. The Woman and Boy were nowhere to be seen. "Hello?" I called out. "I just saw you guys walk in here. Where are you?"
The door behind me opened up. Tom walked in, his face reddening with anger. "You can't just walk into my house."
"I saw them walk in. Where are they?"
"I keep telling you, it's just me and you here. Now, if you want to finish your work…."
I walked away from him and headed toward the bedroom where I had seen the Boy standing. I wanted to check that crawl space. The room was empty, not even a moving box in there, so finding the hatch that led under the house was easy. I went into the closet and pried the hatch open.
Tom entered the room behind me, more confused now than angry. "I don't want a line run through here."
"The Boy was standing in this spot. I saw his legs. I spoke to him. He told me the shadows needed me for something." I glared down into the darkness under the house. Despite Tom's feigned declarations that there wasn't another person in the house, I knew he wasn't being honest.
"Okay, I'm pretty sure you're back on pills and in the middle of a delusion," he said.
"How did you know I had a pill addiction?"
"The way you're acting, it wasn't a hard guess."
"I'm sober, but I did have a problem with pills. I never told you. I don't tell anyone."
Tom stood there, confused about how to answer. I stood up and stared him down. He looked away, but I didn't move my gaze. "Who are you? Who put you up to this? Was it Rory? He trying to get me fired?"
Tom's shoulders sagged. "You got me," he said. "Rory hired me to get you in trouble. I'm... I'm sorry. He offered me free cable for a year and assured me you were a bad guy and, well…. I'm weak."
"That's really fuc…," I stopped. "You're lying. Right now. You're lying. Why?"
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something dash past the open crawlspace hatch. I turned to the hatch opening and then back to Tom.
"Are you trying to stop me from looking in there?"
He didn't respond.
"What's under there?"
"He is," he said. "The Boy. He hides under there all the time. He has...friends down there."
"The shadow people?"
Tom shrugged, "What he calls them. I call them a menace. Impossible to get my work done with them causing a racket."
"What work?"
"Things you'd never understand in a million years," he said, "Things beyond your brain's capacity to imagine. Things that will help usher in a new world. Your kind's time is coming to a close. My work represents the new order."
I stared at him. I wasn't sure if I should run away or punch his lights out. Instead, I just spat out, "Bro, what the fuck?"
"Can we show our faces now?" the Boy called out from under the house.
I looked down at the hatch and then back at Tom. He nodded toward the opening. "Do you want to see your future?"
"Fuck it," I said. I got down, grabbed the sides of the opening, and lowered my head under the house.
I kept my eyes closed for a second, assuming I'd either see something horrifying or something would hit me in the face. When nothing struck me, I opened my eyes. It was dark, and I couldn't make out anything.
"There's nothing under here," I said.
"Can we show our faces now?" said the Boy from somewhere under the house.
"Show him," Tom said.
I sat back up, grabbed my flashlight from my pocket, and flipped it on. I looked at Tom, "If you try anything, so help me, God."
Tom just smiled. I looked back down at the hatch and sighed. I was suddenly hit with a bolt of common sense. What was I doing? My internal alarms were going off and I was ignoring them. Curiosity had gotten me this far, but my fight instincts were starting to lose to my flight. No job was worth this.
"Man, fuck this," I said, reversing course and standing. I turned to confront Tom, but he was gone. I hadn't heard him leave, but there wasn't a trace of him there. "Tom? Where the hell are you?"
He didn't respond, and I decided that I had hit my "weird shit" quota for the day. I closed the closet door and headed back into the living room to grab my gear. I'd call dispatch and tell them someone else had to come out and finish the….
The wood floor cracked, splintered, and gave way when I put my weight on it. I fell through the floor and landed with a thud on the dirt in the crawl space. On the way down, I hit my ribs on a crossbeam and heard them crack and knock the wind out of me. As I lay on the dirt, writhing in pain, my lungs did their damnedest to find a breath. It couldn't, and my vision started to blur at the edges. For a fleeting few seconds, I envisioned my death on a dirty crawlspace floor. It wasn’t comforting.
I rolled onto my back and finally took in a massive gulp of life-saving air. The blurring vision subsided, and all that remained was the aching pain of a busted rib. My muscles around my rib cage spasmed and pulled tight against my lungs. After the initial big breath, I could only take shallow gulps because the pain was searing.
I lay there for a few seconds, collecting my thoughts, when I felt something skitter across my legs again. I kicked out of instinct but didn't hit anything. Instead, I heard the chuckling again. My flashlight had fallen out of my hand. I found it and turned it on.
This time, I did see something. Pairs of eyes—dozens of them—watched me from the darkness that surrounded me. These weren't possums or rats. I never hoped to find a raccoon under the house more than I did at that moment. I knew whatever these things were, they weren't natural and they wanted to harm me.
"Still want to know what they plan to do to you?" the Boy asked from behind me.
I turned around and shone the light where I heard the voice. The Boy was lying on his stomach, his face looking down at the ground. All I could see at the moment was the top of his head.
"Wha-what's going on?" I said, the light bouncing from my trembling hand.
"I can show you my face now," he said. He raised his head and….
The Boy didn't have a face.
He had the space for a face, but there were no features whatsoever—nothing but pale pink skin pulled tight across the front of his head. At that moment, the image of a wooden art figure came to me.
“What the ever-loving fuck?"
"Want to see something really scary?" the Boy said, his lack of a mouth not stopping him from speaking. He raised himself onto the tips of his fingers and toes and started skittering toward me, laughing as he did.
I clambered out of the crawlspace as fast as my battered body could carry me. I got out of the hole and onto my feet and let out an ear-splitting scream.
The Woman in the blue dress was standing next to the hole in the floor. Like the Boy, she didn't have a face either. But I could feel her eyes on me. Looking into my mind. Into my soul. She stepped toward me, and I bolted for the front door.
I whipped it open and was greeted by Tom standing there, blocking me. He grinned. "Leaving so soon?"
"What the hell is going on?" I asked, checking behind me to see if the Woman was still coming toward me. She was, and she was gaining quickly.
"Can we show our faces now?" he asked with a laugh.
I turned back to Tom and nearly had a heart attack. His face was gone. I could feel my heart beating in my ears. My legs were jelly, but I kept myself propped up. The human desire to survive can perform miracles.
Tom reached out and pointed at a spot on the far side of the living room wall. I turned and saw three skinned human faces hanging from old nails: a man, a woman, and a boy.
"You're turn to join us," Tom whispered. But the voice wasn't said out loud. It came from inside my own head. "We can always use another body around here."
My brain clicked into action and sent an all-points bulletin to my limbs. The message was simple and actionable – "Get the fuck going, you dope."
I felt my hand ball into a fist and spun. It landed where Tom's nose would've been. It should've knocked him back, causing him to stumble and giving me time to run. But that didn't happen. Instead, his face pulled apart, letting my fist slide right through. It closed on my arm, trapping me.
I yanked and yanked, but my arm would not dislodge from his face. I glanced back and saw the Woman nearly next to me. The Boy was climbing out of the hole, moving like a cockroach. I looked back at the wall and saw Tom's hanging face silently laughing.
Something about those silent laughs cut me to my core. They were laughing because Tom thought he had outsmarted me. He had beat me. That my face would soon be hanging on the wall next to theirs. I wasn't going to let that happen.
I saw a loose brick on the walkway, and a plan flashed in my mind. I yanked hard, sending Tom stuttering forward enough for me to wrap my finger around the brick. I brought it up and sent it towards his face. As expected, the face parted again, and the brick flew through easily.
But as soon as the face curtains pulled aside, I yanked my arm free. With my limb free, I took off in a mad sprint for my truck. I got inside and fumbled my keys as I tried to start the engine. Tom, the Woman, and the Boy stood together at the front door and watched as I got the van going and rocketed down the street.
I drove like a madman for ten minutes, trying to put as much space between me and the house as possible. I finally stopped at a gas station to collect my thoughts. I was jittery, and my mind was swimming, but I was also relieved. I had gotten out.
I collected myself and called Denise to tell her I couldn't finish the installation at 981 Maple Street. I was going to suggest we cancel the order and not send another installer there. That's when the conversation took a turn I wasn't expecting.
"Where have you been? You were supposed to be off an hour ago," Denise said when I called her.
"I was trying to finish the install at 981 Maple, the one you sent me to."
"I didn't send you anywhere," she said. "With how insane Rory is being about overtime hours, I'm trying to keep everyone below the threshold."
"What are you talking about? You called and asked me. You don't remember," I said, a bad feeling growing in the pit of my stomach.
She gave me a nervous chuckle, "I swear I didn't. Are you feeling okay? You gotta come back. People are waiting for the van."
"I can prove it. I have a record of you calling me on my phone," I said. I opened my call log, and my jaw dropped. There was no call from Denise. She was telling me the truth. But if she didn't call me, who did?
"Rory wants to talk to you when you get in. I wouldn't mess around, he seems pissed" she said before hanging up.
I haven't moved since. I wanted to write this down because I felt like it needed to be recorded. Something supremely fucked up is happening at 981 Maple Street. It nearly got me. It still might. To think, on any other typical day, a surprise conversation with my boss would be the scariest thing that could happen to me. Funny how seeing a faceless ghoul can prioritize your problems. If you're hired to do work there, turn it down. Trust me, it's not worth it.
"Can we show our faces now?" they asked. "Fuck no," should be the only response.

We'd like to find others interested in meeting up for brief (<4 hour) get togethers at a regular day of the week and time to build together in creative mode.
What is it?

• A weekly get together where a small group of people can make a tiny build in their own style
• Most of the time a 'template' will be made before everyone arrives so when we don't know where to start, we have somewhere to start.

How long does it last?

• Each session will be < 3 hours for the main event
• Session can go longer if individual wish to, or want to keep working on their project

Is this a competition?

• Nah. People volunteering to share their builds with others is more than enough.
• All are welcome to 'team up' or 'help' with others if asked/accepted
• Some times we do group builds with multiple parts.

Will I get to keep what I make?

• 100% Every week we'll share a world download, or structure blocks at minimum.
• Creators have the ability to request their build be removed before the world download is shared.
  • This is asked before the wold download is shared.

When does it happen?

• Typically during the weekend (Saturday/Sunday)
• Typically between UTC +0 300 and 700
  • Time and day of the event is determined weekly by asking interested parties
  • There will be a 'count down timer' site so that all parties can easily convert to their local time zone

Can I steam/record/etc. this for my viewers/audience?

• No.
  • We're a tiny group, and if you're not getting enough affirmation from the group, let us know.

Do I have to be in voice with everyone?

• No.
  • Most communication for the event will be done in voice, so the ability to hear through Discord is greatly useful. Text accommodations for those who use screen readers will be made.

Are there ranks? Unlocks? Etc.

• Nope. This is very low key event. With the most basic of Discord. No additional bells or whistles.

Do/Would you use X mod/addon/plugin?

• Nada. We meet up and build in vanilla Minecraft creative mode
  • We'll change game rules based on the build or majority participant request
  • The data pack we use are created by us, not imported from anywhere else. They help us quickly set all game rules to the desired, as well

Do you have any anti-greifing measures?

• Yes /ban.
  • We're all adults. Rude/aggressive/invasive/inconsiderate/dismissive/etc individuals are swiftly dealt with and removed.
  • If individuals have a concern others may react negatively to something they'll say/do/or build. Ask, and let it be known before you do so. Again, adults, pretty straight forward how to not step on toes.

What's the application process look like?

• A few written questions to establish user name in Discord & Minecraft
• A build submission (We send you a world with a custom build, you build it, and send it back to us.)
• A brief voice interview (No voice required, it just saves us a lot of typing).

Thanks for readin' on through! If you'd like to join, comment down below, and we'll send a discord invite.
Other FAQ:
Why don't you let people stream/record/etc.?

• Multiple reasons:
  • We're here to enjoy and interact with each other in Minecraft, not perform for private audiences.
  • All skills and abilities are welcomed, even if they're super shy. Taking pictures/video of strangers to share with others is weird.
  • We respect the privacy of others. Questions are welcomed, responses are accepted as is. I.E. If a person doesn't want to share a personal detail, we don't press them on it. This also extends to the right of any user to delete their messages or images, we don't look down on that as Digital Footprints are a thing.

Do you allow players to PvP, or build thing to blow each other up?!

• PvP - Absolutely not.
• TNT - No? Though, if an build event was proposed to have each participants build explode in a creative way, that would be possible

Will/Are there any long-term builds?

• If a build really hits it off with party members, we may return to it.
• Typically we like to keep the builds small, as that prevents burn out and massive time constraints.

Are NSFW/18+ Material/Builds/etc. welcomed?

• No. Not in Discord, voice, text, game, etc. This is echoed in the earlier "if you're concerned something might not be accepted..." ask first.

I just created a TikTok last night, I was inspired by content creators that post things about narcissistic/emotional abuse because I have a lifetime of experience with that. I just want to contribute to what I know and these videos help me out, they are a form of therapy, so I would like to give back in that aspect.
I posted a few videos last night, got flagged for something on my first video. The app won’t even let me set a profile picture due to “multiple violations”. I don’t know what I did? It says to go into my in app notifications for more details but I can’t even find that other than “phone ping notifications”.
I can post the user handle if you want, but all I did was post a video of Narc Abuse and my Cats, yet violated TOS. Are people flagging videos for no reason?
I don’t understand how I could gain a following of 10k if I’m flagged from one video. I started with wanting to help the community and pay it forward but I don’t even know if it’s worth it.

Alice LeCour wrote a Fox News opinion piece recently on the "dark side of true crime." Which for me is ironic in that LeCour, in my opinion, represents one of the dangers. I find her podcast "The Prosecutors" with Brett Talley to be misleading and riddled with bad information, made even worse by their claims of having a high level of legal expertise. In my opinion they represent some of the worst True Crime coverage has to offer. But that aside, the issue she raises has legitimacy.
From a Reddit piece on The Prosecutors:
To what extent are they "The Prosecutors" ...

Alice LaCour seems legit - she's prosecuted (but rarely, if ever, led) a few cases in her young career but a significant part of her work for the DoJ was in civil law, not criminal law. She left the civil branch during a 2019 case where Judge Jesse Fuller (USDC, SD of NY) described the DoJ case as "patently deficient" and was (I must stress this point in her defense) exempt from being reprimanded.
Brett Talley is more fascinating. His experience in prosecution is very, very recent (at most three years and seemingly always as third assistant to LaCour). In 2017 he made headlines by being nominated as a judge by President Trump despite literally trying a grand total of ZERO CASES. He is one very few lawyers (just three in four decades) to receive the dubious distinction of being rebuked by the Bar Association for being "not qualified". He has also been found in the past to have failed to reveal obvious conflicts of interest (seemingly forgetting whom he was married to, to cite the most spectacular example). He has, however, some experience as a speechwriter and also written three horror novels. Clearly passionate about social causes, he issued a "call to arms" in support of the NRA on social media in the wake of the Sandy Hook massacre.
PS I am writing this mainly because I would guess that their observations about even the basics of law are patently wrong about 25% of the time.

Here is LeCour's primary thesis:

But true crime has a dark side. Thoughtful creators can build a loyal and large listener base, but for some, resisting the siren song of shock journalism and quick audience growth is simply too enticing to ignore. Driven by sensationalism, conspiracy theories, and irrationality, these creators appeal to our deepest fears and our latent distrust of the justice system. The consequences are all around us.

LeCour goes on to list her concerns with three specific cases: Richard Allen, Karen Read & Bryan Kohberger. Having followed all three of these cases online, I see pros and cons to the social media coverage on these cases.
Curious to know what others think the pros and cons are of social media coverage of these cases.

• Is it helping people better understand our criminal justice system?
• Does it promise to make civilians more informed jurors?
• Or is it all just the usual crazy angry chatter and conspiracy theories that have always cluttered the internet?

Israel was separated out from the nations (gentiles).

The nation of Israel began with Abraham, who himself was a gentile. His father was even an idol maker. Abraham was given a promise from God that his descendants would be as numerous as the stars. Circumcision was a physical sign that Abraham had gone from gentile to something else, a Hebrew. Hebrew was the first term used to describe this separation. The promise was inherited by Abraham's son Issac (not Ishmael), then Isaac's son Jacob (not Esau). With Jacob the term identifying the promise changed to Israel, and from them on all the descendants we're automatically included in the promise.

The Exodus

Abraham was also told that his descendants would be enslaved for 400 years but that God would also rescue them for a purpose.

Then the LORD said to Abram, “Know for certain that your offspring will be sojourners in a land that is not theirs and will be servants there, and they will be afflicted for four hundred years. But I will bring judgment on the nation that they serve, and afterward they shall come out with great possessions. As for you, you shall go to your fathers in peace; you shall be buried in a good old age. And they shall come back here in the fourth generation, for the iniquity of the Amorites is not yet complete.” Genesis 15:13-16 ESV

God was going to use Israel to drive out the wicked people of the land.
Fast forward to the book of Exodus and you have the enslavement of Israel and many other nations of people by the Egyptians. YHWH, the God of Israel, sends the plagues on Egypt as a judgement against their many gods and to show the world his power and authority. When Israel left Egypt there was a mixed multitude of people that went up out of Egypt with Israel.

And the people of Israel journeyed from Rameses to Succoth, about six hundred thousand men on foot, besides women and children. A mixed multitude also went up with them, and very much livestock, both flocks and herds. Exodus 12:37-38 ESV

These people didn't just run off. They stayed and worshiped YHWH alongside the physical descendants of Jacob! They had been there and witnessed the power of God. Word traveled and many nations (goyim) were terrified of the Israelites because of their God who does these amazing things.
Now Israel was led by Moses to Mount Sinai. There were Goyim that stood at the mountain and shouted their allegiance the same as the Israelites did!

So Moses came and called the elders of the PEOPLE and set before them all these words that the LORD had commanded him. All the PEOPLE answered together and said, "All that the LORD has spoken we will do." And Moses reported the words of the people to the LORD. Exodus 19:7-8 ESV

The elders of the PEOPLE, not just Israel. ALL the people who choose to follow the God of Israel were there and dedicated themselves WITH Israel. They stayed with Israel the 40 years in the wilderness. They were no longer goyim, they no longer identified with their national God's, they no longer identified with their country, the had become Israelites. "Your God will be my God, and your people will be my people"

The Covenant Renewal Entering The Land

After the 40 years in the wilderness Israel is about to enter into the promised land, so they have a covenant renewal ceremony with the new generation. The covenant renewal in Deuteronomy 29 specifically includes gentiles again and goes as far as calling them "his people". "His people" has always been those who follow YHWH in obedience. That's what determines who is an Israelite.

Therefore keep the words of this covenant and do them, that you may prosper in all that you do. "You are standing today, all of you, before the LORD your God: the heads of your tribes, your elders, and your officers, all the men of Israel, your little ones, your wives, and the sojourner who is in your camp, from the one who chops your wood to the one who draws your water, so that you may enter into the sworn covenant of the LORD your God, which the LORD your God is making with you today, that he may establish you today as HIS PEOPLE, and that he may be YOUR GOD, as he promised you, and as he swore to your fathers, to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob. It is not with you alone that I am making this sworn covenant, but with whoever is standing here with us today before the LORD our God, and with whoever is not here with us today. Deuteronomy 29:9-15 ESV

Does God have a separate law, something different for gentiles versus his people Israel? No.

Every native Israelite shall do these things in this way, in offering a food offering, with a pleasing aroma to the LORD. And if a stranger is sojourning with you, or anyone is living permanently among you, and he wishes to offer a food offering, with a pleasing aroma to the LORD, he shall do as you do. For the assembly, there shall be one statute for you and for the stranger who sojourns with you, a statute forever throughout your generations. You and the sojourner shall be alike before the LORD. One law and one rule shall be for you and for the stranger who sojourns with you.” Numbers 15:13-16 ESV

So you can see here that the plan from the beginning is INTEGRATION. One people united by a common law to worship the God of their nation. That nation is Israel.

In The New Testament

Jesus

Does the new testament say anything different? Lets look at what Jesus said and how he responded in Matt 15 concerning a gentile woman.

And Jesus went away from there and withdrew to the district of Tyre and Sidon. And behold, a Canaanite woman from that region came out and was crying, "Have mercy on me, O Lord, Son of David; my daughter is severely oppressed by a demon." But he did not answer her a word. And his disciples came and begged him, saying, "Send her away, for she is crying out after us." He answered, "I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel." But she came and knelt before him, saying, "Lord, help me." And he answered, "It is not right to take the children's bread and throw it to the dogs." She said, "Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters' table." Then Jesus answered her, "O woman, great is your faith! Be it done for you as you desire." And her daughter was healed instantly. Matthew 15:21-28 ESV

Here Jesus was NOT going to help this woman UNTIL she proved and qualified her faith, that her faith was in Jesus as her MASTER. In that instance she showed her allegiance and it was to Jesus whom she recognized as the Son of David, the King of Israel.

What about Acts 15?

In acts 15 most people point here to say that the gentiles were only given 4 laws to follow, which would completely be inconsistent with our pattern here. Lets look at what James had to say there.

After they finished speaking, James replied, "Brothers, listen to me. Simeon has related how God first visited the Gentiles, to take from them a people for his name. And with this the words of the prophets agree, just as it is written, "'After this I will return, and I will rebuild the tent of David that has fallen; I will rebuild its ruins, and I will restore it, that the remnant of mankind may seek the Lord, and all the Gentiles who are called by my name, says the Lord, who makes these things known from of old.' Therefore my judgment is that we should not trouble those of the Gentiles who turn to God, but should write to them to abstain from the things polluted by idols, and from sexual immorality, and from what has been strangled, and from blood. For from ancient generations Moses has had in every city those who proclaim him, for he is read every Sabbath in the synagogues." Acts 15:13-21 ESV

James expected the Gentile people to CONTINUE in their faith journey by learning Moses in the synagogues. Now saying "Moses" is a colloquial way to say the Torah. James' message is one of INTEGRATION, not separation. James expected these people to join with the Israelite people to worship with them at synagogue!

But what about Paul?

Paul is no different. Paul also has Romans 11 saying the gentiles are grafted into the tree of Israel, but more powerful and plain is his words in Ephesians 2.

Therefore remember that at one time you Gentiles in the flesh, called "the uncircumcision" by what is called the circumcision, which is made in the flesh by hands-- remember that you were at that time separated from Christ, alienated from the commonwealth of Israel and strangers to the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world. But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ. For he himself is our peace, who has made us both one and has broken down in his flesh the dividing wall of hostility by abolishing the law of commandments expressed in ordinances, that he might create in himself one new man in place of the two, so making peace, and might reconcile us both to God in one body through the cross, thereby killing the hostility. And he came and preached peace to you who were far off and peace to those who were near. For through him we both have access in one Spirit to the Father. So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are FELLOW CITIZENS with the saints and members of the household of God, Ephesians 2:11-19 ESV

Paul says here that if you put our faith in Jesus as your messiah then you become FELLOW CITIZENS in Israel! It can't get any more plain than this!
So, in conclusion, both old and new testaments agree that if any gentile person wishes to worship the Creator God presented in the bible, who's personal proper name is YHWH, then Gentiles are to DENY any of their former pagan worship practices and JOIN with Israel to worship God in the way that He has instructed in His Law. That's the purpose of Israel, to be a nation of HIS people. Read Jeremiah 31 where the "New Covenant" is outlined and quoted from in Hebrews 8. Who is the covenant made with? Are gentiles included? Not at all. Why? Because to join in this covenant you have to leave behind your gentileness in favor of becoming an Israelite!

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Two items — a crystal ball, and a green leather-bound notebook — sat benignly and idly atop of the black-robed professor’s desk.
The camera lingered on them, giving them what most may see as an undeserved moment in the spotlight.
But to those that knew, to the parties invested in this controversy, this little pause and dramatic zoom-in was accompanied by a hair-raising excitement… along with an untempered nervousness for what was to come.
It definitely caused the investigative duo on the other side of the screen some pause for thought; prompting them to stand intently, pondering both the orb and the notebook.
Ilunor, as far as I could tell, was entranced by the green notebook in particular. Though it wasn’t a trance born out of any positive emotion, but instead, one of abject horror.
“Recommended Reading Materials for the Studious Student.” Sorecar announced with a steady breath, prompting Ilunor to visibly flinch in his seat, as the man reached a finger over to point at the hand-scrawled title of the leather-bound notebook. That finger soon found itself carefully manipulating its pages, opening the cover first, before turning over the internal dust-cover to reveal letters and symbols written in High Nexian, but arranged in a manner the EVI simply could not translate.
“Error: Unable to Translate. Cause: Unrecognized and/or unintelligible organization of local script-forms.”
Yet despite this, it seemed as if both Sorecar and the Apprentice were able to draw something from its otherwise senseless pages. As despite being written haphazardly, with letters and pictograms arranged in no meaningful order, they were able to still draw meaning where the EVI couldn’t.
“Within these pages lie materials for the studious student. Materials are to be found within The Library, and are to be retrieved with great haste. May you make swift work of their contents, and may those after you find only ash in your wake. Seek, unlearn, and remove from the grip of the eternal entity, that which was once a gift but is now a curse. Seek, unlearn, and remove; with the fires of your passion, oh studious student.” Sorecar read aloud, managing to read something verbatim from the nonsensical pages of the book.
Ilunor’s eyes were practically glazed over at this point, as he began bringing his cape over across his chest, tucking his legs towards his chin in the process.
“This is it.” The apprentice announced with a half-cracked smile. “Please, keep going. I’m certain your skills of appraisal far exceed my own, Professor.”
Sorecar obliged by flipping the page, turning over to two pages of complete gibberish, once again watermarked by the EVI’s error message; but proving no challenge at all for the ever-inquisitive professor.
“Section One, A Tainted Reality: A Wretched Collection of Historical Affidavits During the Reconciliation and Reformation of Otherwise Lost Realities.” Sorecar paused, before turning towards the apprentice. “It lists an entire section’s worth of books, in titles held within spatial positions with reference to their potentialities within the ever-evolving library.”
Thacea’s features visibly flinched at that revelation, but similar to the apprentice in the footage, she refused to comment. At least not for now. Her eyes however betrayed a look of mild distress, which subsided somewhat as the apprentice urged the armorer to continue.
Which he did, as he flipped from page to page across the relatively small notebook, only pausing to read in between what he interpreted to be different sections and ‘chapters’.
“Section Two. The Unspoken War and the Treacherous Alliance.”
“Section Three. All surviving works from Alaroy Rital.”
The apprentice cocked her head, as if trying to recall some familiarity in that name. “Alaroy Rital.” She repeated. “I don’t recall hearing of such a name before.”
“Well his full name, as far as I recall, and vastly aided by the book is as follows: Alaroy Rital, Lord-Mayor of the Township of the Two Rivers, Slayer of the Dragon of the Grey Canyon, Repeller of the Tainted Blight of the Orsin, Liberator of the Aether, and Grand Master of the Elusian Guild Hall of Adventurers.” Sorecar responded succinctly, prompting the apprentice to once more clench her eyes shut in deep thought, before finally letting out a sigh of defeat.
“The name is both familiar yet foreign at the same time.” She finally admitted.
“As far as I recall, and mind you, my memory of those years are far from perfect… the man was a local hero of sorts. Though his record was besmirched by some controversy or another.” Sorecar offered, prompting the apprentice to finally shrug, giving up on this particular subject matter entirely.
“There are more sections, yes?”
“Correct.”
“Then let’s move on.”
Sorecar nodded promptly at that, flipping the pages over until he hit the next section.
“Section Four. A Sordid Account of the Most Bizarre of Newrealmer Arrivals: A Death By Harmonization and the Ensuing Investigation.”
That immediately got my attention, causing me to jolt forwards, prompting the armor to quickly follow as it automatically switched from the currently active in-armor-postural-readjustment mode, and back into its active configuration.
“Section Five. The Unfortunate Procedures Against Unruly Realms and the Instances in Which Such Procedures Were Incurred.”
The armorer paused after that, not necessarily due to its contents, but as if puzzled by what lay ahead in the next few final pages. In fact, he flipped back and forth between the pages soon after that, treading and retreading what were effectively the last five pages of the book. “There is an appendix which includes titles not covered by these sections, however it will take some time to read through them.”
“That’s enough for now, professor.” The apprentice offered, prompting the man to quickly pull back, closing the notebook with an unsatisfying thump. “We have our glowing wand.” The apprentice surmised. “The oeuvre of works which are no doubt the subject of this grand controversy. Now all we need to find is the contract which ties everything together.”
“I’m assuming you haven’t forgotten about our second item of interest?” Sorecar gestured towards the crystal ball.
“Of course not, professor. However, the fact we’ve found that book implies that we must be close to its dependent article.” The apprentice responded with a renewed sense of urgency, as she began using that same ornate magnifying glass in an attempt to further pick apart each and every nook and cranny of Mal’tory’s desk.
Part of me wanted to make some joke about how this was every unpaid intern’s dream, to be rummaging through your boss’ stuff.
But that part of me was completely buried underneath the confusion and dread that came with the revelations from within that little green book.
I… honestly didn’t know what I was expecting, but I felt like I’d been suckerpunched, with the wind being knocked right out of me from the implications of exactly what had been selectively purged from the library.
It was a struggle to process it all, which more or less made me dull out the more eccentric aspects of the apprentice’s investigation; as she unlocked drawer after drawer, pulling out pile after pile of magical nicknacks and more documents than what was possible from that finite amount of space.
Sorecar was clearly of the same opinion as the rest of us right now however, as he continued obsessing over the book, his hands once more trailing over to inspect its cryptic pages. The man seemed transfixed on the second and third sections in particular, though his featureless visor made it difficult to really pin down what his reactions were.
Yet throughout all of this, it was clear the reactions on the homefront were much, much more animated, as Ilunor was just about ready to pass out from the stress, and Thacea seemed about ready to burst at the seams if her featureless facade was of any indication.
“That was the book.” Ilunor finally chimed out, just as the narration through the recording had died down during the more tepid phase of the apprentice’s investigation. “I know it.”
“I thought your memories when it came to the whole Mal’tory book burning situation was lost, Ilunor?” Thalmin countered.
“It was. I mean, it still is. But I remember parts of that room. I vaguely recall the emergence of a book that I was forced to…” The Vunerian trailed off, as if struggling to piece together words.
“... to sign?” Thalmin offered in a surprisingly helpful tone which stood at odds with how he earlier regarded the Vunerian.
“No. No you imbecil-” The Vunerian paused, realizing his misstep as he backtracked from what would’ve otherwise been an expected response. “That wasn’t a book of binding. It’s not comparable to the yearbook, if that was where your assumptions were leading to, Prince Thalmin.” Ilunor clarified, gripping the armrests of his seat tight between his fingers.
It was about this point in time that I expected Thacea to chime in, to elaborate on the nature of the book with her encyclopedic knowledge on seemingly every aspect of the magical world.
But she didn’t.
Instead, her eyes remained practically glued to the screen, as I realized that whatever had been revealed thus far had hit much, much harder than I could’ve imagined.
Ilunor, as if taking note of this silence, elected to fill in for Thacea. “The book… is an adjacent artifact. It is, as the apprentice has noted, an eclectic oeuvre of works, a list if you will, to be bound to and referenced by a contract and a spell of binding. The book itself isn’t the binding agent, moreso the reference material by which the contract is hinged upon.”
“So what’s with the illegible text? Are they ciphers or some magical equivalent of it?” I gestured once more at the bird’s eye view offered by the drone, and the pages of indecipherable text currently beneath Sorecar’s hands.
“Those are anchor runes, earthrelamer.” Ilunor answered with a frustrated sigh. “It is frustrating to see them for what they are not. Frankly, it’s as if your sight-seers and memory-shards were designed to mimic the world as it is seen through the eyes of a particularly weak-fielded commoner.” The Vunerian went off, venting his frustrations through a rant before finally calming down. “But I digress. Those runes are referred to as anchors for a reason. For tethered to them are akin to pages of text to be openly read and deciphered within the manastreams. Granted, this form of writing is not common; moreso used for the purposes of contracts and other such magical binds.”
“And on the topic of contracts. I’m assuming that the contract… your contract, is what the Apprentice is currently rummaging for?” I gestured towards the screen once more, at the apprentice who was now buried ankle-deep in piles upon piles of books, documents, and an assortment of scrolls that criss-crossed across the room’s mahogany and carpeted floors.
“Unless she’s a complete nitwit, then I’d imagine so, yes.” Ilunor responded with his signature cattiness. “In any case, the fact she’s even trying proves that she’s barely above a fool anyways.” The Vunerian shrugged. “And before you ask, earthrealmer, let me preempt your question. The contract, at least on the professor’s end, has more than likely suffered the same fate as my own. Namely, its existence is more than certain to be dubious at best. What the apprentice will surely find will be nothing more than ash at the bottom of that bottomless drawer. Which… given its sheer size and scale, and the potential inhabitants within its limitless confines, will more than likely result in even ash being difficult if not impossible to find.”
There was… more than one point I wanted to raise with Ilunor’s statements. However, before I could address any of them, the elf in question finally spoke up once more; now surrounded by an entire archive’s worth of documents and nicknacks.
“Nothing.” Larial spoke with a sullen breath, taking a moment to steady herself as she made a point of not sitting on Mal’tory’s chair. “At least nothing that’s relevant to our case.” She continued, resting her palms flat against the green suede of the desk.
“Were you really expecting anything different, Apprentice?” Sorecar countered, having since moved from pondering the pages of the book to now pondering the depths of the crystal ball.
“I’d assumed the damage to the man hadn’t been so severe.” Larial admitted, alluding to something else that drew all of our collective attention. “When I first saw him in the healing ward… he looked… intact. You couldn’t even tell there was anything wrong with him.”
“And yet they called you of all people, to aid in the ritual.” The armorer surmised, with a tone of voice that now more resembled that of a fully fledged Academy Professor. His happy go lucky persona had subsided completely, at least for now, as he addressed Larial in a manner more akin to what I’d expected of the Dean. “You have been around the Academy for long enough to understand that calling upon the aid of apprentices is unprecedented. Which means that despite how things may seem on the surface, that lurking beneath the seemingly calm waters, is a hydrostorm of epic proportions.”
“This entire situation is unprecedented, professor.” Larial countered meekly. “But you are correct. It… must have been desperate if they required the aid of apprentices. I just… cannot fathom the fact that the professors must have…” The apprentice trailed off, her face scrunching up and breaking eye contact with the armorer as if too skittish to broach the next point.
Sorecar didn’t reply, nor did he complete her sentence for her, simply allowing her to recuperate and reorganize her thoughts herself.
“... brought the man back from the brink.” She managed out, offering what was in effect a euphemism that didn’t seem to sit right with the armorer, if his immediate head cock was of any indication.
“That is the only way you can explain the complete loss of a contract.” Sorecar reasoned. “You were hoping to find it, despite knowing well that it, amongst the rest of his contracts, have more than likely gone up in flames.” It was around that point that he walked around behind the desk, and reached down into the drawer the apprentice had been searching in. His arm sank impossibly deep, deeper than what should have been physically possible inside of that small and limited space. After a few moments, the man finally brought his hand back up, holding within it what appeared to be fine specks of ash that he allowed to filter back down into the dark depths of the seemingly bottomless drawer. “And there you have it — ash. Most of it has no doubt already been consumed by the bottom-feeders. However, what remains is enough to account for what is perhaps more contracts than most would form in their lives.”
The man stood back up soon after, before once more taking his place at the front of the desk.
“Well, I believe that answers our prior speculations on Auris Ping’s potential relations, contractual or otherwise, with Professor Mal’tory.” Thalmin growled out, punctuating the moment of silence within the footage; which soon continued with a resonant sigh from the apprentice.
“I guess, in a way, I was trying to find the contract not so much because of my assigned task, but because I wanted to perhaps prove to myself that the situation wasn’t as dire as my intuition leads me to believe. The loss of all these contracts can only mean one thing.” Larial paused, once more trying to find the strength inside of her to face whatever facts were self-evident in this case. “The man was lost.” She finally managed out through a shaky breath. “His soul must have departed from his mortal coil. And yet…”
“... and yet he remains.” Sorecar surmised.
“They must have re-tethered it before I arrived that night.” The apprentice shot back. “But I felt nothing different when they asked me to aid in the mana-channeling processes. This whole situation is just…” She sighed, prompting Sorecar to cock his head.
“Unprecedented?”
“Yes.” The apprentice once more admitted, sinking her face into her hands and taking a moment to process it all, more or less falling into the same camp all of us were currently in. “Moreover, it brings up a very disturbing question.”
“Which is?”
“If his soul was truly untethered, even for a split second… how exactly were they able to retether it? Or more specifically, through what means are they using to permanently retether his soul to his mortal coil?”
This question seemed to cause some level of concern from Sorecar, as his answer soon demonstrated. “There are… ways of doing so that aren’t exclusive to being spellbound to armor.” The man offered under a dour breath. “Especially if the body is… fresh, in a manner of speaking. Though it requires the use of-” He stopped, halting himself from going down what was clearly a darkening path. “I apologize for prompting this rather… dark and dreary subject matter, Apprentice.” Sorecar offered, as that empathetic, kinder side of him returned without much prompting.
“It’s quite alright. It… it needed to be said, if we are to complete this investigation with any degree of professionalism.” The apprentice concluded with a small smile. “Whatever the case may be, it is clear that we are unable to procure the contract through which the perpetrator of the library’s burning was bound. We have, however, undeniable proof of Professor Mal’tory’s involvement with the scandal.” She pointed at the green notebook. “And of course, a potential interloper who may or may not have been a part of this conspiracy; thereby expanding this from a mere Academy matter, to one which could implicate others beyond its walls.” She pointed at the crystal ball. “Have you discovered anything from your observations thus far, Professor?” The apprentice inquired, prompting the man to nod, as he knelt down to eye-level, pondering the orb from desk-height.
“The inherent limitations of the Echovale make it so that it’s near impossible to transcribe anything following the cessation of a communique.” Sorecar began. “Though of course, you knew this, and hoped that because I am perhaps one of the greatest armorers to have ever lived, that I would be able to aid in this impossible endeavor, hmm?” The armorer’s tone of voice had more or less resumed that flighty, happy-go-lucky one I knew him for.
The apprentice, hearing this, could only smile awkwardly in response. “I wouldn’t have put it that… bluntly, professor. But I do indeed have faith in your ability to make the impossible, well… probable, at the least.”
“Hmph! Well, I couldn’t pin a face or a name, but I was able to pin a definite location if that helps.” The man offered.
“Any stray piece of information will help tremendously, professor.”
“The Crownlands.” He answered without a hint of hesitation, prompting the Apprentice to raise both of her brows up high.
“That’s as far as I am able to draw from the residual echoes within the vale.” He tapped at the ball, generating a series of satisfying clinks in the process.
“So the man wasn’t acting alone. Or rather, perhaps he was consulting someone.” The apprentice pondered. “Then again, that final communique could very well be with Lord Lartia—” The apprentice paused, before placing both palms softly across her throat. “—may his soul rest in peaceful slumber.” Following another moment of silence, the apprentice’s hands soon shifted towards the ball. “In any case, if it isn’t Lord Lartia, then who could it possibly be? Maybe we should…” The apprentice suddenly stopped; as if realizing the dangers of diving any deeper into this growing conspiracy. “No.” She quickly corrected herself. “Whatever the case may be, this is probably now completely out of my purview. I was assigned to collect any evidence I deemed to be relevant to recent happenings, and I believe this should suffice.”
“Whatever you believe is best, apprentice.” Sorecar acquiesced, prompting the apprentice to slowly, but surely, pack the archive’s worth of documents, books, and scrolls all back into the drawer using nothing but telekinetic spells.
This left just the crystal ball, and the little green book, both of which the apprentice promptly pocketed into a small pouch, before placing it somewhere beneath her cloak.
“Though on that note…” Sorecar began, pointing towards the apprentice’s cloak. “If I may ask, how do you plan on divvying up these finite pieces of evidence?”
This caught the apprentice off-guard, as her mouth opened, but no response came through.
“Moreover, are you even obligated to hand in this evidence? Or are you only expected to write a report to all parties involved?” Sorecar continued, pressing the matter further, causing the apprentice to stop mid-stride. “Because if primary evidence isn’t explicitly required, might I offer my services as a master forger?” The man spoke with a hint of mischievousness, the duality of the word perhaps translating equally well despite the language barrier.
“I may need to contact my superiors to ask if a… copy will be satisfactory to their needs. I believe not, but… we shall see. In any case, I am due to submit the evidence along with my report no later than the end of next week. As such, this should give me ample time to organize my findings, which is especially convenient given the roster of duties I am expected to cover over the next few days.” The apprentice took a moment to pinch the bridge of her nose, halting her rambles as she steadied herself with a sigh. “But I digress, I believe I will take you up on that offer, Professor Pliska.”
“It would be my pleasure to welcome you into my domain, apprentice.”
The rest of the footage consisted of small talk between the pair, with nothing in particular standing out as the topics being addressed soon turned from high-stakes espionage, and back into faculty banter.
Yet despite that, none of us broke the silence that now dominated the boring trip back. Not even as the footage came to a complete stop, and there was nothing more left to play.
I leaned back against the armor, eliciting a series of creaks from the couch below me, echoing across the high-ceilinged room and disrupting the tentative peace that came with this ominous silence.
“This explains… a lot.” Thalmin offered, finally breaking the silence with a tentative tone of voice. “It explains your contract, and its abrupt cessation.” He continued, turning towards Ilunor. “It explains Mal’tory, or at least, his current lack of public appearances. And it reveals to us exactly what he was trying to hide from you, Emma.” The lupinor eventually turned towards me. “And I think the sections of the library, selectively pruned, are self-explanatory as well.”
“Section four, and section five, at least.” I replied shortly thereafter. “I have no idea who or what Alaroy Rital has to hide in section three, and don’t even get me started on section two, let alone section one.” It was at that point that I turned towards Thacea, who let out a sharp exhale upon me bringing up section one.
“The removal of all information relevant to… and I quote — Tainted Realities — speaks volumes to the inherent fears of the Nexus. Though I know not what specifically they may fear from your discovery of its deep and now-lost lore.” Thacea offered through a pensive gaze. “There are many rumors, legends that come with the phrase Tainted Reality. Though most are mythical; epics of long lost eras that dwell between the blurry line that exists between history and legend. Perhaps the records within the library were pieces of irrefutable evidence that would’ve shed light on this nebulous subject matter. But even so… that begs the question… why? Why would they hide what is effectively a non-issue when it comes to your discovery of its lore? Taint, and more specifically, the concept of a Tainted Reality, is something that is inconsequential in the contemporary world. Its history, even if it proves to be true, is neither a disruptive political element, nor a practical tool for war, that could be used in countering the Nexus.” The avinor’s explanations were clear, concise, and yet they belied something personal that she clearly wasn’t broaching.
And I wasn’t about to dig either, not when this topic very clearly hit close to home for her.
“This leaves the second subject matter then.” I offered, giving the avinor an off-ramp towards a potentially more palatable topic.
“The Unspoken War and the Treacherous Alliance?”
“Correct.” I nodded.
“That… I have no knowledge of.” The avinor admitted, prompting me to turn to both the lupinor and the Vunerian for answers.
“Don’t look at me, earthrealmer, I’m the one who lost all memories on the subject, remember?” Ilunor countered.
“I’m afraid I’m as in the dark as you are on this one, Emma.” Thalmin replied with a loud huff, leaving me with perhaps more questions than answers at this point.
“Right then.” I nodded. “Well, regardless, as disquieting, confusing, and disturbing as these revelations have been, they are exactly that — revelations.” I took a moment to stand up, resting both hands on my hips, as if adopting Ilunor’s more theatrical approach to things. “We started today off with no intel on Mal’tory, with no idea how we were going to complete The Library’s Seekership questline, and no knowledge on exactly where we stood in this game. We’re ending today off with a firm grasp on exactly what we need to do, what exactly was scorched in the library, and a tentative understanding on Mal’tory’s fate. I’d say that’s an incredible step forward, even if the answers we now have are leading to even more questions.”
“Reality is often filled with disturbing truths, but only when we acknowledge them, can we act to change them.” Thacea offered.
“Here here!” Thalmin reaffirmed through a firm stomp, standing up tall and ready.
“While certain revelations come as disappointments… namely the survival of Professor Mal’tory… it is indeed somewhat satisfying to hear that the man is at the very least suffering for his actions.” The little thing spoke maliciously, as he too stood up. This prompted a look of worry to form amidst all three of us, but instead of reacting accordingly, he instead displayed an expression of confusion. “What? The man was a monster! He actively antagonized not only me, but this entire group! Surely you also feel at least some sense of satisfaction at the consequences of his actions catching up to him!”
“The delight in an enemy’s defeat, best comes from the resistance of the blade against his body. Not from the suffering incurred from happenstance.” Thalmin countered, whilst Thacea and I refused to entertain that line of thought, as I quickly placed a palm across my forehead, bonking it once again in the process.
“Right, well, here’s the game plan. We now have a clear target to complete our first objective — the notebook. We grab that, hand it in to the library, and presto, we accomplish the Seekership questline. Now comes the difficult part… how exactly do we do that?” I turned to the group, as offers and suggestions finally came flying in.
“Take advantage of your life debt?” Ilunor offered.
“I wouldn’t take advantage of that card just yet, Ilunor. Not if we have other options.” Thacea countered.
“What if we steal it?” Thalmin proposed.
“Thievery isn’t a diplomatic approach, Thalmin.” Thacea shot back with a glare.
“Well, Emma here was able to grapple her way, through manaless means, across the outside of the castle towards the apprentice whilst she was in the medical wing. I’m sure we can pull something else off in a similar capacity!” The lupinor countered.
“No, Thalmin. As much as I would like to try, I believe it might be best if we try a more diplomatic approach.” I offered, prompting the three to cock their heads.
“We could just ask, right?”
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(Author’s Note: And there we have it! The first step towards the completion of the Library's questline! We've found exactly what we were looking for, the list of books that were ordered to be put to the dragon flame by Mal'tory. With that being said however, a new series of questions arises... exactly why were these books targeted in particular? Moreover, what exactly was lost as a result? These questions and more will continue to linger in the back the gangs' minds as we push forward! Especially as we now find ourselves in the midst of another conundrum, exactly how are we going to get the book to the library! Regardless, this is still a massive step forward, and one that will surely bring Emma and Ilunor closer towards addressing the first phase of their intertwined fates with the library! I hope you guys enjoy! :D The next Two Chapters are already up on Patreon if you guys are interested in getting early access to future chapters!)
[If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 84 and Chapter 85 of this story is already out on there!)]

When we were kids, my best friend and I were wells of creativity. We didn’t even get it, we weren’t trying to be artists or “content creators” back then, we were just having fun.
Andy kept making up stories, I’d illustrate the characters and make comics out of some of them. Actually, I drew and painted a lot all my life, easily and without much thought. That was when it worked the best. It would always become harder when some expectation was put upon me, like “draw something for your aunt’s birthday.” Too deliberate. Thinking always blocked me.
The same went for Andy, his stories were the best when done spontaneously.
Back when we didn’t think about how we needed to be creative or productive, or that anything we did had any value or that we had a talent or needed to achieve anything with it. We just did it, and people around us would respond.
Then came university, then work, Andy got a wife and a kid. Slowly, and without any drama, we drifted apart.
I didn’t draw in a long time. It’s hard when you work 5 days a week, you’re tired in the evening and recovering during the weekend. Suddenly the idea of myself as an artist started to matter more and more, and with it it became less and less obtainable. It started to matter because I needed something to hold on to that would represent a side of me outside of this absurd routine I was now stuck in. And I didn’t have my own family, I was free after work, not that I managed to do much with it aside from finishing a lot of shows, games, movies and books and drinking a bit too much.
By then, it’s been years since I saw Andy, but at one point we ran into each other, promised we’d grab a beer, surprisingly lived up to the promise, and realized that, despite all this time, we were still friends.
We started hanging out more often, we didn’t even live that far. His wife just had their second kid, and the whole thing seemed overwhelming to me, but it seemed he was managing just fine. One time I asked him if he was still writing anything. In retrospect, I could recognize that he had a serious gift, endless ideas, unique style, even as a kid. Hell, he even studied literature, although he was in finance now. “Sometimes,” he said. “I don’t have that much time, and I often start on some stories only to realize they’re dumb and give up.”
He told me his dream is still to write a book, but finding the motivation to write is difficult as is, and finding the right moment and atmosphere even more so. But 10 years ago, he wrote a short story/novel, still in the draft stage. I managed to convince him to let me read it, and I was amazed. The story was short, but it was so good and imaginative. The ending felt a bit rushed, and some plot elements could be fine-tuned, but the writing itself was genius. I could feel the characters, the atmosphere around them, the original ideas and believable dialogues…I told him honestly, with a not-insignificant effort to repress my jealousy, that he needed to keep on writing.
He laughed and asked me what about my drawing. I showed him a few things I made throughout the years, and he appeared genuinely impressed. Except there was so little to show. He asked me about one of the more recent drawings, which turned out pretty cool. I told him I actually made it in about half an hour, in a pissed-off mood after losing my job. Most of it was like that. The flash of inspiration is something I can’t summon or plan. “I envy the people who can get anywhere through pure discipline,” I said. “For me, it’s all completely outside of my control.”
This resonated with Andy. “When I wrote my story, at the moment the most complete work in my life, my mother died. That was the worst year of my life. I didn’t care about anything, the only thing I could do was write.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “It seems to me that the best works I’ve made came from the moments where I had the least desire to live”
“I’ve been thinking about this for a long time,” he confessed.
“I’ve been trying so hard to get that drive back. I tried to write drunk, I tried to write sober, I tried to write when I’m on leave, I tried to write after my leave, I tried to write after work, I tried to write weekends, I tried to write during work because it’s more peaceful than at home…during big live events, or tried to wait for things to get more peaceful, break the routine, write desperately, write calmly, force it, not force it….in the end, nothing works. Except maybe a tragedy.” he laughed.
“Eh, at least you have an excuse. You have a wife, two kids, a demanding job… I’m just lazy.” I tried to cheer him up. I didn’t envy his lifestyle. But it was a good life, the life he wanted.
“I know this sounds awful, but to have children, a family, that’s nice and I love them but I can’t say it’s that fulfilling. Or that it’s the meaning of life for me. Ultimately, they’re here to have their own lives and I’m still me, and I wonder what I really accomplished - creating someone else to take a shot at making something interesting? No, kids aren’t what I want to leave as my mark on this world. And now I feel that this is it, there’s no more that infinitely long future filled with possibilities in front of us.”
We were both in some kind of depression, an identity crisis. In my 20s I was so lost and wanted some stability, and now I was choked by the regularness of life. Maybe it was the awareness that things could continue like this - every day the same, and then you die - that seemed terrifying at times. Especially at night, with the next day gaping in front of me like a black hole, waiting for me to fall in.
Some people have a strong feeling of purpose from which nothing can pull them away. I have some talent, but I find it so monumentally hard to give it any dedication.
After that day, this became our regular topic we always seemed to come back to. Is it better to try to force yourself to do something, or wait for the inspiration to hit you, but what when it’s simply not happening? We’d occasionally read some self-help advice, although we were always a bad audience for this kind of thing, constantly trying to identify what it was that was blocking us. We’d share our observations. Andy would come up with some cool ideas for stories, but it wouldn’t go anywhere. I’d try to sketch or do something “crazy” and it would just come off as forced and fake.
Slowly, Andy started working on a theory that, with time, became more and more concrete and ritualistic. He started from that simple, and not too original observation that he can only create when going through a loss. “The suffering artist” or something. He started to believe that there is some balance in life, that he was trying to maintain too many things, and that some kind of “hole” was needed that could be filled with creation.
We’d had some beers when he was going on about it again. “See, I always avoided big responsibilities, serious relationships, a family… I was always stingy about my time and how much I could give to others. And yet I have the same problem.”
He waved me off, drunker than I was. “We all have different capacities. Although I have more obligations, you are equally balanced by yours, as small as you think they seem in comparison. And even that's the wrong way of looking at it. I’m not talking about free time or energy, because I realized that’s not the issue, just an excuse. I’m talking on a much more… metasiphyc level.”
Metasiphyc. I remember that. I found it hilarious at the time.
But he kept on with his idea of equilibrium, balancing the things you want in life, with an increasingly elaborate approach to the topic. From a general idea that comes down to that all aspects of your life can’t be at their highest at the same time, to the idea that everyone has an average and when you want to rise above it in any way, you need to sacrifice something else.
“Well of course, everyone says you need to sacrifice to achieve greatness. Sacrifice means hard work, dedicating your time to it, shit like that. Except that this approach doesn’t really lead to success for either of us.” I challenged the theory.
He wasn’t discouraged. “No, because that’s not a sacrifice for you. In theory, you’re fine with spending 5 hours sitting down and working on something, you just don’t know what it is.” “No, sacrifice is… a sacrifice. It has to be something you care about. I’ve been studying the topic,” he’d start lecturing. “Humanity always had sacrificial rituals, and they make perfect sense.”
I’d usually laugh it off at this stage, but I think that, even then. I started to notice it was all becoming way too concrete and obsessive. We had more of those conversations, but the more of a thing it became for him, the less committal I was about agreeing with his philosophy. At one point I started seriously suspecting that he was losing it and becoming a fanatic.
One night he called me crying and telling me he took it too far, killed his cat so that he could write, and that he was a total idiot who deserved to die. I could tell he was drunk as fuck. After that incident, he suddenly stopped and calmed down. He was no longer talking about his book, sacrifices, equilibrums and metaphysics. Just normal shit, politics, exercise routine, work issues, family and all. Mostly about trying to drink less and work on his marriage. It seems he re-embraced normal life, avoided the topic of what happened that night, or turned it into a deeper discussion about alcoholism and getting his shit together. I didn’t push, maybe I was relieved if a bit bored by this change.
Then his youngest son died. Accidental suffocation with the blanket. Apparently it happens more often than you’d think.
Look, I’m not a writer, you can see where this is going. But as clear as it may seem here, put together in a linear recount of events, it certainly didn’t cross my mind that Andy had anything to do with it. It’s easy to look back now and connect all the elements, but to accept the possibility is much more bizarre. I just felt bad for him and had no idea what to say.
I was a weak friend at the time. I thought he needed some space and time with his family, and I needed a reason not to awkwardly interact with someone going through things I can’t possibly understand, so after a cliche message expressing my condolences, which took me a day and the help of ChatGPT to draft (I think the result was the eloquent “ Andy, I’m so sorry for your loss, no idea what to say. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”) I kind of stepped back.
A few months have passed. I’m not proud of it, but I rarely actively miss people. Then, he reached out to me and asked me to get together for some beers.
I started with another unconvincing expression of condolences, but luckily he accepted it without any protest and lucidly started talking about how he was doing, the terrible state his wife was in and how confused and lost his little girl was. He said his home was a terribly depressing place, and that writing was now his only escape.
It wasn’t exactly a cheerful declaration, but a few weeks after he sent me a book draft. It was excellent. I loved it. I instantly felt a pang of jealousy. A short while later he managed to publish it.
The book kept getting some traction, slowly but surely, and soon enough I was truly jealous and I started to avoid him again. He didn't share my problem anymore. He created something, it was good, and people started to recognize it. Even if it never gets huge, it will always remain as something he can feel proud of. That was better than anything I was doing. Then again, being jealous of the man who lost his child was brutal, but I was and I didn’t feel like seeing him.
One day he invited me for some drinks while his wife and daughter were away to see her parents. He insisted I come.
This time, he was beaming. It seemed that he was waiting for me to say something until he couldn’t wait anymore. “Can you see that it’s working now? “ he asked.
I gave a confused look.
“The sacrifice”
He told me, to my great discomfort, that he went for all or nothing. That the cat worked just enough to confirm his suspicions, but he knew he needed something big. He had to do something drastic or forever resign to mediocrity. And how his son’s death instantly removed that barrier inside of him and gave him focus. “Of course, it hurt” he toned it down. “Without the pain, the sacrifice wouldn’t be worth anything”
“But your son, was that not an accident?” Happy accident, I thought.”Or?”
“Or” he replied flatly.
He continued. “Look, I don’t care, I know you won't say anything to anyone, at least not seriously. And if you did, who’d believe you, you can’t prove anything and you’re way too lazy to get into any drama and risk looking stupid.”
He was right.
“And maybe you also know there’s truth in it. Maybe you get it. The reason why I am telling you all this is because you’re my friend, maybe the only true friend I have, and because I want to help you. But your problem is that you avoid having anything to lose. That’s why you’re in your equilibrium where you can’t create.”
“What, I should find a girl and make a kid so I had something to sacrifice for my artistic masterpiece?” I asked him in some combination of shock and numbness of disbelief.
He shrugged. “This method is more concrete than you think, and it works. My problem is that I need to keep at it, the success made me happy and again, I’m balanced. In fact, as much as it hurts to lose my son, and as disgusting as this is to say, I can live without him. It was much more painful to watch my wife and daughter despair, that was truly… painful, and horrible. The guilt made me create. And now, I’m finally leaving my mark on this world and my marriage is falling apart,” he took a big sip.
“You sacrificed,” I said.
As time passed, my friend got a divorce, lost his beloved sister and her family in a tragic gas leak accident, wrote another book and became semi-famous in an increasingly broader circle. I didn’t read the book.
We don’t see each other often. I judge him, but I feel like a hypocrite. The truth is, I am consumed with envy, while the advice he gave me is stuck in my head. Meanwhile, time keeps on passing and I still achieved nothing.
“You need to open up a hole in your equilibrium and then fill it in with what you want. It’s a swap. Humanity always understood the concept. A deal with the devil, a sacrifice, same principle.”
Maybe I should stop him before anyone else is sacrificed. I know how much he loves his daughter, I think about it sometimes. But it all sounds too insane. Like some dumb fiction. Besides, he was right, wasn’t he? His way worked and I’m jealous because I have nothing to sacrifice.
It would be better to work on my own life rather than try to ruin his. He’s right, I never built anything so I’d have nothing to lose. We all have our reasons and fears. Maybe I should face mine. Finally, allow myself some closeness, stop pushing aside every girl I start to like. Meet someone, invest in the relationship, put my time and effort towards building something.
And then, perhaps, I’ll be able to find my creative drive.

Hello, if anyone here has some free time to review my task 2 writing it would be really helpful to me and I would appreciate it a lot.
Here is the statement:

It is commonly believed that nowadays main factors that affect a child's development are media, pop culture and friends. A different point of view is that a family plays the most significant role. Discuss both views and give your opinion.

My writing:
It is argued by many that media, friends, and pop culture impact kids' development the most. However, detractors argue that family impact the kids' development more. After thoroughly considering both viewpoints, I firmly believe that friends and media affect the kids' development more than their parents.
Firstly, some people think media, friends, and pop culture are main influences to children's development. To elaborate, nowadays media are easier to access than ever. Smartphones and tablets are given to kids since young age, they can view various types of media through the internet, including but not limited to songs, movies, news, tv shows, and even political contents. These media undoubtedly affect the children's mindset. Furthermore, they can message and call their friends in a matter of seconds. This conveniency let children spend more time with their friends. For example, they can have a gaming session with their friends while chatting in a call, discussion various topics.
Secondly, others say that family is the most important factor to children's development. To explain, children learn from their parents since they were born. They tend to have similar mindset to their parents. For examples, if parents teach their kids about money management, the kids will likely spend their money wisely and know how to invest that money.
After careful consideration of both opinions, I am strongly convinced that friends and media are the most significant contributors to children's development. While it is true that children learn a lot of things from their family, they spend more time consuming media and talking with their friends

TL;DR GET YOUR BUS APPRAISED. GET A DASHCAM. These things will save you if you happen to lose your rig in an accident.
The reason why I emboldened getting your rig appraised is because if your rig were to get totaled in an accident, Total Loss Claims departments of insurance companies are only looking at what your bus is worth as a school bus. Skoolies are custom vehicles, which is why we need to consider getting it appraised by someone with an official certification that can factor in the value added to what used to be a school bus.
This was our appraiser. He was able to get us more than we spent in components and for the bus itself. I had to be referred to several people before being recommended to talk to him, so this will make it easier for you. He is very informative and communicative, and he was able to get us more than I thought: Jeffrey Schroeder, ASA www.appraisingautos.com 908-442-5095
Our bus got rear ended on the freeway by a Class A motorhome driver who couldn't pay attention to the road. This happened in the middle of a several thousand-mile trip.
This was my first accident ever. So, when dealing with insurance there were some things I had to learn for the first time in a real-world scenario.
1.) Insurance will likely total your rig. Typically, skoolies are buses cycled out of commission with many, many miles of use on them. Most are 20 to 30 years old, so parts availability is slim, and labor on big diesel rigs is as expensive as it gets. So, if a major structure damage occurs but is otherwise mechanically sound, minus some coolant hose repair needed for instance, they still won't want to fix it because offering a settlement would be more financially feasible for the insurance company. Since there's no parts for something this old, this would mean fabrication, which is very expensive.
2.) They will initially offer a low settlement for the total loss. When you refuse to sign the initial settlement offer, they will likely tell you that your only other option is to get it appraised. This is when it will be much quicker is you already have it appraised and insured for its appraisal value.
3.) An in-person appraisal is ideal. Since our bus was considered a total loss prior to the appraisal, the appraiser that we hired had to do what is called a desktop appraisal. This is when they are only able to see what evidence you give them, a list of components installed, and comparables found online. I'm sure all appraisals require 2 to 3 weeks of research, and that was definitely the case for ours. It's just when they aren't able to see it in real time, that limits what they can do.
4.) It's not a good idea to rely on a skoolie on the road while broke. We planned several years in advance for this trip. On top of the build plan, the budget we had for the build, and the route for the trip, this also meant setting as much money aside as possible. But even though we were fully insured, it is still a fight to get back just what we've had to spend due to an accident we aren't liable for. Having a budget and having spent the years building a substantial emergency savings was another thing that saved our asses. Ideally no one should be so quick to dip into their savings, but even in emergencies it sucks having to do so, all because of someone else's lack of attentiveness on the freeway. I know "winging it" into this kind of lifestyle seems attractive in this financial day and age, but that is a massive risk that easily breeds unnecessary problems. Luckily, I caught some of the influencer BS in my own build and was able to correct them, but please stop listening to influencers about skoolie construction and living. They are lying to you for a profit. A nomadic/custom RV lifestyle is not for those that aren't handy, have bad money habits, lack adaptability skills, and lack patience. However, skoolies are fantastic types of dwellings on the road, if one knows how to plan for them, build them, drive them, and take care of them.
5.) If you see and accident occur, PULL OVER and give your witness statement to the police. One of the things that has made the fallout such an aggravating battle is because no one driving behind myself, other than my wife in our other vehicle, and the driver that hit me pulled over. Someone else had to have seen what happened, but no one stopped. This process would have ended weeks ago if there would have been an independent witness statement. So, if you see an accident happen, pull over and tell police what happened when they approach you to collect your statement. I know we are all in a hurry now days, but independent witness statements can easily make or break a case. Be a neighbor and help out the person who didn't deserve the mess they are in, while help bring justice to the situation.
This whole thing has been a nightmare, and there was nothing I could have done about it. Thankfully our appraiser helped us get back at least some of what we invested throughout this entire project.
Please, y'all be safe out there. Don't be fooled, and don't be a fool.

I am a truggling to come up with ways of communicating with him. I am noticing other things that make me feel there is something more going on within him. We have very long work days so he takes his adhd medication in the morning around 6am and when 6pm rolls around, he is crashing. I get that 12 hour work days are a lot so the crash at 6pm could be simply because it’s been a long work day. On the work side of things, I am bothered by his comments. I feel like I’m in competition with my own husband. I have worked along side him for several years running OUR business. I managed the front end all this time, and now he says he is the ONLY one who makes things run right. This is extremely hurtful to hear.
He says things like:
“I am working so hard at making our main business successful”
“The business wouldn’t run the way it is if it wasn’t for me”
“The changes I am making is what will make the business profitable”
I feel these types of statements are quite grandiose and self centred. We have a team of people that ALL work very hard every day to make OUR business successful.
I always wanted my husband to come out of his introvert shell. I wanted to help him become more social and be able to interact with people more. He has definitely become more extroverted. I am proud of him for becoming more social and outgoing.I just feel he is taking things a bit far with his thinking. He told me the other day in the heat of an argument:
“I am an alpha male now so take it or leave it”
The time we get together as husband and wife is compromised by all of this. My husband would rather scroll his phone on the couch with the TV on for background noise.
The part that I struggle with that I feel he has no time for our relationship, rather he has all the time needed for business. He communicates with our bookkeeper several times a week. Either FaceTime, phone or text. I used to be a jealous person, but I have overcome that. Now I am just feeling envious. I want what she is getting from my husband. The talks and support they give to each other. They discuss business related stuff together which males sense. She is our bookkeeper. They discuss their bad days together and send each other uplifting and funny memes. I have told my husband I don’t really care for this. He tells me I’m insatiably jealous and that I need to get over it. He thinks I’m being controlling when I even make a comment about it. A lot of times, he will wait until he’s in his truck to call her, or close his door at our business, or take her a coffee and have an in person extensive visit at her business. I like our bookkeeper, I am trying to be friends with her. I just don’t share the same type of personality as her. I’m trying though.
The other aspect I am struggling with is his hyper-sexuality. Lately, I just don’t feel like initiating because of how he chooses to talk to me. What would I want to be intimate with someone who is rude to me all day? I also don’t think I am withholding intimacy. We are intimate at least once a week.
I actually feel there is something else underlying for him other than adhd. I just don’t know how to bring this up. I have tried in the past, and it backfires every time.
I love this man with all of heart and I want for nothing more than for us to be happy again! We are a power couple and I want to bring that back.
Thanks for reading my long winded post, any helpful suggestions is appreciated!

Tackling Your PHP Contact Form Dilemma

Dealing with a contact form that fails to send an email on the first try can be a frustrating experience, especially if you're not well-versed in web development. This common issue often surfaces when customizing templates, where the primary focus is on the aesthetics defined by HTML and CSS rather than the underlying functionality. The scenario typically involves a PHP-based contact form, which, instead of functioning seamlessly from the get-go, requires a second attempt to successfully dispatch the user's message. Such a situation not only hampers the user experience but also poses a significant barrier to effective communication between website owners and their audience.
The root of this problem often lies in the PHP script assigned to handle form submissions. While replacing a non-functioning PHP file with a seemingly operational one from another source might seem like a straightforward solution, the integration process can introduce unforeseen challenges. These challenges might stem from conflicts between the script and the website's existing infrastructure or from overlooked configurations necessary for the script to operate correctly within a new environment. Understanding the technical nuances of this process is essential for troubleshooting and ultimately ensuring that your contact form works reliably from the first submission.

Command/Function	Description
mail()	Sends an email from a script
$_POST[]	Collects form data after submitting an HTML form with method="post"
htmlspecialchars()	Converts special characters to HTML entities to prevent XSS attacks
filter_var()	Filters a variable with a specified filter
isset()	Checks if a variable is set and is not null

Delving Deeper into Contact Form Challenges

Understanding the intricacies of PHP contact forms is crucial for web developers and site owners aiming to provide a seamless user experience. One common pitfall is the misconfiguration of the server or mail function, leading to the initial failure of email sending. This issue often arises from server-side restrictions or incorrect SMTP settings, which are not always immediately apparent. Additionally, the complexity of PHP mail functions can introduce variables that are overlooked during initial setup, such as the need for proper headers to ensure email deliverability. These headers include content-type declarations and MIME version specifications, which help in correctly formatting the email so that it's recognized and properly displayed by email clients.
Another significant aspect to consider is the security of your contact form. Implementing basic validations on both client and server sides is essential to prevent common security threats like SQL injection and cross-site scripting (XSS). Furthermore, using CAPTCHA or similar verification methods can help in mitigating spam and automated submissions, which not only affect the site's performance but can also lead to blacklisting by email service providers. Ensuring that your PHP contact form is both functional and secure requires a holistic approach, focusing on reliability, user experience, and security measures. By addressing these areas, developers can significantly reduce the likelihood of initial submission failures and enhance the overall effectiveness of their contact forms.

Essentials of PHP Mail Functionality

PHP Scripting Language

"; } else { echo "Email sending failed.
"; } }?> 

Debugging the Initial Send Failure

PHP Debugging Tips

"; } else { // Attempt to send email // Include the mail function from the first example here } } 

Enhancing PHP Contact Form Functionality and Security

When tackling issues with PHP contact forms, understanding the flow of data and error handling becomes paramount. The lack of immediate feedback or error messages on the first submission attempt could be indicative of underlying problems in the form's PHP script or server configuration. It's essential to implement comprehensive logging mechanisms to capture and review errors. Such logs can reveal if the script encounters specific conditional blocks that prevent email dispatch, or if server-side configurations, like PHP's mail functions, are not correctly set up. Additionally, optimizing the user experience by providing clear and immediate feedback on form submission status helps in reducing user confusion and improving interaction with the website.
Security measures extend beyond just preventing spam and malicious inputs; they also involve safeguarding the email sending process. Utilizing SMTP authentication for sending emails can enhance security, as it requires valid credentials, reducing the risk of being flagged as spam. Regularly updating the PHP version and libraries to patch known vulnerabilities is another crucial step. Educating oneself on secure coding practices and staying informed about common vulnerabilities can greatly mitigate risks. These efforts collectively contribute to not only making the contact form more reliable but also protecting sensitive data and maintaining the integrity of the website.

Frequently Asked Questions About PHP Contact Forms

1. Question: Why does my PHP contact form not send emails on the first attempt?
2. Answer: This could be due to server-side email configurations, script errors, or incorrect SMTP settings.
3. Question: How can I secure my PHP contact form against spam?
4. Answer: Implement CAPTCHA, use server-side validation, and filter inputs to prevent automated spam submissions.
5. Question: What are the essential components of a PHP mail function?
6. Answer: The essential components include the recipient's email, subject, message body, and additional headers for content type and encoding.
7. Question: How can I add attachments to emails sent from a PHP contact form?
8. Answer: Use the PHPMailer library, which supports attachments, SMTP, and more comprehensive email functionalities.
9. Question: How do I handle form submission errors in PHP?
10. Answer: Implement error logging and user feedback mechanisms to identify and inform about submission issues.
11. Question: Can I use PHP's mail() function with Gmail as the SMTP server?
12. Answer: Yes, but it requires configuring SMTP settings to use Gmail's server, including authentication.
13. Question: Why are emails sent from my PHP form going to the spam folder?
14. Answer: This may be due to lacking proper email headers, sender reputation, or not using SMTP authentication.
15. Question: How do I validate email addresses in PHP?
16. Answer: Use the filter_var() function with the FILTER_VALIDATE_EMAIL filter.
17. Question: Is it necessary to sanitize form inputs in PHP?
18. Answer: Absolutely, to prevent XSS and SQL injection attacks by using functions like htmlspecialchars() and prepared statements.
19. Question: How can I improve the user experience of my PHP contact form?
20. Answer: Provide immediate feedback on submission, validate inputs client-side, and ensure the form is accessible and responsive.

Final Thoughts on PHP Contact Form Quirks

Addressing the challenge of a PHP contact form that fails to send an email on the first attempt demands a comprehensive approach. This exploration underscores the importance of verifying server-side configurations, employing robust validation and sanitization techniques, and ensuring the security of the form against malicious inputs and spam. Key practices such as using SMTP authentication for email sending, implementing CAPTCHA for spam prevention, and providing clear user feedback are instrumental in enhancing form functionality. By adopting these strategies, developers can not only troubleshoot and resolve initial sending issues but also significantly improve the user experience and security posture of their websites. The journey from identifying the problem to implementing a solution highlights the dynamic nature of web development and the continuous need for learning and adaptation. As technology evolves, so do the challenges and solutions in creating effective and secure online communication platforms.
https://www.tempmail.us.com/en/php/troubleshooting-php-contact-form-issues-on-first-submission

Howdy all,
Recently went for coffee with 2 current PhD students of a prospective PI I’m interested in. (I’m an incoming PhD student, so I already got accepted to the school I want to attend, I just have to choose which labs to do my rotations at. I don’t want to waste a rotation if the PI gives too many red flags to start off with …)
My question is that during the meeting, a lot of red flags came up about this PI. His students strategically talked between the lines, but I was able to pull these statements out: Like (1) he rarely does 1:1s and rather uses lab meeting times to get everything he needs done (2) He ruined a few possible co-publishing opportunities/relationships in his same dept because he has a weird sense of humoothers don’t really get along with him (3) I’d be receiving constant guidance from a 4th year PhD student (who graduates in ~1 yr or so) rather than from my PI. As a matter of fact, this 4th year said the PhD students rely on themselves - so when this student graduates, who am I supposed to go for help… especially if it hasn’t been the norm for his current PhD students to go to him …
Here’s where the question is … I never emailed this PI to ask to meet with his students - I found out who they were/their emails from his website. I reversed the traditional order of things … however, I did talk to this PI for ~30min on interview night. So my question is whether or not I have to email this PI after this meeting with his students. To be honest, I don’t think at all he’s a right fit for me, but I don’t want anybody to look bad or ruin intercollegial relationships with those older PhD students (because in my head, I think it would look bad if I don’t email this PI after meeting with his students … looks like I was scared off or something?)

While a narrow Washoe County investigation has started into the controversial conduct of Karma Box executive director Grant Denton, more ex-girlfriends, former colleagues and supervisors are coming forward with new allegations of what they call predatory behavior in multiple relationships and in work environments.
We’ve also found out there’s been recent change in terms of work which had been previously delegated to Karma Box, the River Stewards program, now passed on to another nonprofit active in helping the unhoused, RISE.
Those speaking out recently against Denton want him kept away from all work in recovery and homelessness spaces, including the Cares Campus safe camp where he is still contracted by the County.
In terms of the River Stewards, some of the statements made related to the current investigation and interviews we did previously with the unhoused indicated there were concerns as to who was chosen by Denton to do the river cleanups, and how people were paid.
“The River Stewards Program has not been active for several years until funding was recently provided to RISE this spring,” Kara Steeland from the Truckee Meadows Water Authority wrote to us. “I believe Karma Box did not have the capacity to apply for funding or manage the program any longer. Under Karma Box, there was a gift card system in place to incentivize people to help clean up along the river. RISE will hire individuals on a contract basis who will work as River Stewards and be paid a living wage.”
The county investigation concerning Denton was started after a former girlfriend made public allegations against him at a county meeting on May 28th that he preyed on women in recovery workout programs. At the same public forum, an advocate for women and the unhoused read a statement on behalf of John Opalinski, a staff member with Bristlecone Family Resources and a board member of Reps 4 Recovery, also denouncing Denton for alleged misconduct.
It was then announced a county investigation would be carried out.
In one email shown to Our Town Reno, Mary Kandaras, the Chief Deputy District Attorney, wrote the investigation would “focus primarily” on the county’s contract with Karma Box to run the safe camp.
County Manager Eric Brown then indicated in a May 31st email that an independent investigator had been brought in “to investigate Grant Denton’s interactions with Safe Camp clients. Grant has agreed to not come to the Safe Camp while the investigation is being conducted,” he wrote, saying this matter would be resolved “in a swift and fair manner.”
The latest 990 Karma Box Project form we could find was from 2022, indicating $82,300 in compensation for Denton. Last year, Denton already garnered negative media attention for not filing required tax forms to the IRS and losing nonprofit status temporarily.
At that time, County Commissioner Mike Clark said he had previous discussions with county management about Denton, concerned as to how the contract could be continued under those circumstances.
“Why are we doing business with somebody who for the lack of a better word is not officially licensed? That would be like the county hiring a plumber who wasn't licensed,” he said.
Clark says he’s been receiving new statements against Denton daily, even hourly. “I’ve asked for a fair, independent investigation,” he said. “I don't know if anybody's guilty of anything but I think we need to look a little bit wider than just what was taking place at the Cares Campus.”
New allegations range from threatening, demeaning and bullying behavior with the people he deals with personally and at work, especially women, in several positions he’s held since arriving in Reno, to being told of a sexual assault allegedly committed by Denton.
We emailed Denton Friday about the accusations in the new statements we were cced on, but have yet to receive a response. In previous correspondence with Our Town Reno related to the initial accusations, he said he wasn’t a “perfect man,” but denied any wrongdoing. In an interview with This is Reno, he called the multiplying accusations a “f****** witch hunt”, adding an expletive to a phrase often used by former President Donald Trump.
Read our full story which includes new statements we have been cced on here: https://www.ourtownreno.com/our-stories-1/2024/6/9/disappointment-over-scope-of-countys-investigation-while-more-accusations-target-grant-denton

Lifetime - Staked: 935.9u, Profit/Loss: +11.97u, ROI: 1.28%, Parlay Suggestions: 179-72 Dog of the Week: 13-19, Picks: 14-11 (56% accuracy)
2024 - Staked: 288.8u, Profit/Loss: -21.39u
As always, scroll down for UFC Vegas 93 Breakdowns. The following is just a recap of last event’s results.
~UFC Louisville (PREVIOUS CARD)~
Staked: 14.75u
Profit/Loss: -3.84u
Parlay Suggestions: 2-3
Dog of the week: Jared Cannonier ❌
Picks: 6-8
I just can’t seem to get it right on these fight night cards. Last night’s card certainly wasn’t great for me in terms of reads, but once again there was no luck on my side. The Rosas over 1.5 missed out by eight seconds, and obviously the Cannonier stoppage was widely regarded as contentious. I’m definitely going to be thinking about limiting my exposure to these kind of events, because I just can’t seem to make it work this year. I’ve got 28u profit on PPV cards this year, with 34% ROI. It’s time I paid attention to that and stopped losing money for fun on these low level competitions.
The goal for me is obviously going to break even by the end of the year, which is a miserable game to be playing, but one I believe I can achieve.
~UFC Vegas 93~
Woo, more Apex!
Worth re-iterating again that throughout the month of June I will be cutting a few corners regarding some fights I have no interest in betting. I’m on holiday the week I would otherwise be writing the UFC 303 McGregor write up, and I obviously don’t want to miss my usual Sunday release…so I am working hard to get ahead of schedule and get it all ready for before I fly.
Let’s get into it.

~Alex Perez v Tatsuro Taira~
Amazing how quickly things can turn around in MMA. Literally at the start of this year I was clowning Perez for being inactive, questioning his commitment to his career, and generally dismissing him and considering a fade at any appropriate opportunity. Fast forward six months and he’s potentially in the title picture with a win here, and a guy who cost me money last time.
Perez is talented, I’d always known it. I bet him to beat Figgy back in the day, and I do believe he could have given a great account of himself had he not been sloppy and gotten caught in the early submission. Alex has good striking, and great wrestling…which at Flyweight makes him a serious competitor. I even said in my breakdown for the Mokaev fight that if Alex somehow managed to get back to his best, he’d be a tough fight for Mokaev, or any grappling-based opponent in the division.
We’ve seen a real demonstration of Perez’s abilities this year alone. He showed his potential in the close loss to Mokaev, defending 17 of 20 takedown attempts and just generally muting the successes of Mokaev’s elite crotch-sniffing and mat return wrestling. He parlayed that impressive performance with a main event win over Matheus Nicolau, a well-rounded competitor that has been on the cusp of a title shot for some time. Perez’s striking looked great in that one, and he once again demonstrated that he has sneaky power too.
This main event spot against Tatsuro Taira is obviously going to lend itself more to the Mokaev performance from an analytical perspective, as the undefeated Japanese fighter is obviously a grappler at heart. When you consider Alex Perez’s aforementioned takedown defence against Mokaev, this one gets really interesting.
Tatsuro is clearly taking a massive step up in competition here, with his highest calibre opponent across five UFC appearances otherwise being CJ Vergara or Carlos Hernandez. In most of those fights, Taira has enjoyed grappling control time in approximately half the time he’s been inside the cage, which indicates he’s yet to really be tested in an area where he isn’t comfortable. He has scored knockdowns in two of his fights, but that finishing sequence against Hernandez most recently was pretty much the only time I’ve seen his striking has looked impressive. It’s not bad typically…just very obviously not his strong suit, and he doesn’t really do anything out at distance except jab and lowkick to set up his takedown.
The key difference here when comparing Taira to Mokaev is wrestling cardio. Mokaev’s averaging almost six takedowns per 15 minutes – he invites opponents to stand back up so he can ragdoll them back down. Taira is a different type of grappler, where most of his opponents stay grounded, and a finish comes soon after. The most he has ever landed in a fight is three. It doesn’t mean he can’t wrestle relentlessly…but there is a nuanced difference when it comes to the type of grappler you are.
So can Taira keep wrestling for 25 minutes? Obviously we cannot say for sure, but it wouldn’t surprise me if the Japanese phenom looks very human and beatable if this fight makes it to round three. I’m expecting Perez to ask serious questions of Taira if they spend extended moments on the feet, and the only way to stop that from happening is with a finish, or the ability to land takedowns.
I’m not convinced that Taira’s going to be able to take and hold down Perez, and I’m also not convinced he gets the better of him on the feet. Whilst that statement was true in the Mokaev fight, the British wrestler still managed to defeat Perez…but that was across 15 minutes, and Mokaev has proven he’s got the cardio to pull of that kind of style for a very long length of time.
The early submission threat could definitely be live, and there’s no reason to believe that Taira can’t still win rounds without having to dive for a takedown every 10 seconds. Perez may be coming off a great performance against Nicolau, but he’s still an untrustworthy fighter that makes sloppy mistakes occasionally. His redemption arc began with that competitive performance against Mokaev, but if we’re being honest he actually fumbled a winnable opportunity with a very lacklustre third round.
So in my opinion, this line is too wide…but I don’t trust Perez enough to take the gamble on him here. If this was up in the +200 range then I’d be tempted, but I Perez is still in the untrustworthy category for me, so I just can’t do it at +160. It’s a pass for me, but Perez is the pick.

How I line this fight: Alex Perez +120 (46%), Tatsuro Taira -120 (54%)
Bet or pass: None
Prop leans: Taira Submission early, would probably be the angle I’d look towards.
Live Betting Leans: If Taira goes bat shit with the grappling, there’s a potential angle for Perez to turn the tables here.

~Tagir Ulanbekov v Joshua Van~
The unique selling point of MMA is that it challenges fighters to be equally diverse at striking and grappling disciplines. That’s why we love it, but damn do I wish they’d sometimes consider what they’re doing when they book certain matchups. I understand that the Flyweight talent pool is smaller so options are much more limited, but it’s still frustrating.
Reason being, Joshua Van looks like a very intriguing and exciting striker, but we are only just at the start of his journey to becoming a fan favourite. It’s far too soon to be throwing him in against a Dagestani wet blanket that’s likely going to cuddle him for 15 minutes and tarnish Van’s hype and prospect status. Let the guy marinate a little before you decide his fate. Especially at 22 years old!
Having said that, I’ve no idea if Van’s got the defensive capabilities to win this one. We haven’t seen him face takedowns from anyone who is anywhere near the level of calibre of Tagir Ulanbekov, and without that we can’t even begin to predict how this fight should go. Furthermore, he’s managed to get up pretty well any time he has been taken down, so our knowledge on his defensive grappling is even weaker.
Van is a great striker, so I would expect him to be leading the dance and winning the bout on the feet, but again that lack of experience could easily eat into his confidence and create a reluctance to commit to his striking. We see it time and time again in a striker vs grappler matchup, where suddenly the striker puts on a low volume and outright bad performance on the feet…it’s because they worry that if they throw with any sort of force they’ll be off balance and susceptible to being taken down. Cast your mind back to rounds 2 and 3 of Cesar Almeida vs Roman Kopylov a few weeks ago to see what that looks like.
So I’ve simply got to agree with Tagir being the favourite here. He has proven himself to be a high-level wrestler, his style could naturally nullify Van’s best qualities…and I also just do not have the evidence to believe Van is going to have the tools to stop Tagir’s grappling. Especially at his age. I never used to be particularly high on Tagir as a prospect as he’d had a few underwhelming performances, but the way he dominated Cody Durden was certainly eye-opening to me.
I can’t have too much confidence here considering Van could have Jose Aldo level takedown defence, but it’s likely he doesn’t and that this too much, too soon. I think the line on Ulanbekov should be shorter than I was able to get him. So I played him for 2u at -167. This is more of a play based on experience and logic, than any tape-based stylistics, but I just had to at that price.
How I line this fight: Impossible to say for sure, but Tagir should probably be trusted at -200 or slightly steeper.
Bet or pass: 2u Tagir Ulanbekov to Win (-167)
Prop leans: None, no idea of Van’s defensive abilities.

~Shayilan Nuerdanbieke v Melq Costa~
A showdown between Steve Garcia’s bitches!
Melq Costa has had a weird UFC career so far, he’s either getting dominated, or dominating opponents. He got the opportunity to show off his ability against everyone’s favourite Ai-generated UFC 5 character, Austin Lingo, but that’s not really saying much. No shame in getting shut down and submitted by Thiago Moises, but getting womped by Steve Garcia isn’t the greatest look.
Shaylian Nuerdanbieke is also coming off a loss to Steve Garcia, where Garcia came back from the brink of defeat after a dangerous opening round. It put an end to a run of three successive UFC wins, but the kind of opponents Shaylian was beating were all lower level and similar.
I honestly don’t know what to make of this one. I don’t really know why Melq Costa is -200 here because I think he’s proven untrustworthy enough to not warrant that price, but I’m not sure if Nuerdanbieke is being flattered by facing lower comp. Either way, I didn’t want to look into it any further from that point. Pass from me.
How I line this fight: I didn’t tape it.
Bet or pass: Pass
Prop leans: None

~Ikram Aliskerov v Antonio Troccoli~
Third time lucky for Troccoli trying to make his UFC debut? You’d think that by now I’d have done some tape on the guy, given he’s been waiting to get in there for some long.
15-1 Ikram Aliskerov is one hell of a guy to debut against though…Ikram looks like he could be the real deal. He’s dusted three opponents with complete ease in DWCS/UFC so far, and his only professional loss comes against none other than Khamzat Chimaev.
I’ve no idea about Troccoli, so that’s as far as I can go. Given the high finishing rate of both men, and this being a 205lbs fight, it feels like the -1000 price available on Aliskerov may not have any value (no shit!)…and I obviously don’t want to bet Troccoli on the return. Easy pass, but I’m sure it’s another showcase for an interesting prospect in Aliskerov.
How I line this fight: No idea specifically but Aliskerov large fav.
Bet or pass: Pass
Prop leans: None, there literally cannot be value on Aliskerov’s props unless you’re playing contrarian

~Garrett Armfield v Brady Hiestand~
Garrett Armfield impressed me in that recent performance against Brad Katona. I rated Brad’s minute winning ability very highly before the big focus was put on fight ending intentions, so I definitely made a mistake in trusting him in that spot. Katona’s not a dangerous fighter, so his style relies on domination and flawless defence these days. Damage and fight ending intentions are key factors to consider – and a great example of that is the first round of Brady Hiestand’s win over Fernie Garcia – he won 80% of the minutes in the round, but he got dropped momentarily in the first 20 seconds with one punch and all three judges gave it go Garcia.
Hiestand is riding a hard fought two-fight winning streak coming into this one. I don’t think Danaa Batgerel or Fernie Garcia are comparable wins to Brad Katona, and even less so when you actually dissect them. All three of Hiestand’s UFC fights have seen him get knocked down (unofficially with Garcia, but it was treated like one by the judges!), which is obviously a huge concern…especially when you consider he’s not even a super dangerous guy once he gets top position.
Hiestand’s standup isn’t threatening at all. You can tell he’s uncomfortable. He tries to sit at range and throws a kick or a single punch as he bides his time for his next takedown attempt, but he does so whilst backing up the entire time, so anyone with decent sprawling abilities should be able to see them coming. He is counter-able right after that initial shot too, as Danaa Batgerel figured out.
When Hiestand does get top control time it’s also pretty ugly. He’s very erratic and tries too hard to force a submission attempt (he tries to wrap the arm around for an RNC when he’s got nothing else going on the set up), and it often results in him getting reversed. I saw him end up on his back from having his opponent’s back at least three times. A good scrambler on the mat should have no trouble staying safe, and ultimately finding their way back to the feet if they’re patient.
Hiestand’s biggest strength is definitely his cardio, which was solely responsible for his win over Danaa. That was a very weird stoppage, as Danaa definitely wasn’t defending himself, but the punches from Hiestand were pretty inoffensive that I would imagine Danaa could have gladly eaten them for another 90 seconds and gone on to won an easy 29-28. He did gas though, as he didn’t protest what would otherwise have been a very brutal loss to suffer. It wasn’t exactly an impressive finish from Hiestand, he got very lucky to win that fight as the finish came 100% from Danaa gassing/quitting.
So how does Armfield matchup against all that info on Hiestand? Very well, I think. He’s got nice pressure and great hands that he throws in high volume. His performance against Kazama was basically the exact outcome he wants here. He fights with a low stance to pre-empt the takedown. Against Katona it was more of the same, and despite getting taken down four times he still defended five. He got straight back up every time he was taken down as well. They were mostly bodylock attempts, but I think his defence of single/double legs is better than his bodylocks. He got tired in the third against Brad (it was a high pace fight). But still got up off a takedown in the 14^th minute.
So I think Armfield’s got a very favourable match in front of him. Hiestand’s performance against Danaa was a clear indication that he cannot hang on the feet with a lower-level UFC opponent, so Armfield really should do work with the hands. He’s proven competent enough at stopping Hiestand’s only route to a victory also, so I think this one’s a gift for him. I initially wrote that -200 wasn’t steep enough, so I’m surprised the line continues to get better on him. I’ve played him for 3u at -175 (which is rare these days).
How I line this fight: Garrett Armfield -300 (75%), Brady Hiestand +300 (25%)
Bet or pass: 3u Garrett Armfield to Win at -175
Prop leans: Might be tempted by Armfield KO, serious levels on the feet and Hiestand’s been dropped by everyone he’s fought in the UFC so far.

~Asu Almabaev v Jose Johnson~
Asu Almabaev is looking very impressive, isn’t he? The way he dominated Ode Osbourne was certainly eye-opening, but the way he made light work of CJ Vergara was equally appealing to me. I’ve always said CJ’s a hard guy to look good against, and we also got to see Asu’s cardio look totally fine across 15 minutes.
He faces Jose Johnson for his third UFC appearance. Jose’s been a back-and-forth kind of guy. He has to fight hard for his wins, because he’s like a magnet for grappling. I don’t know how, but the guy has next to no ability to maintain distance and keep fights striking – where he wants them. He’s not a bad grappler when he is on the mat, but it’s still not his preferred place. He also gives up his back worse than anyone I’ve ever seen.
All of that will be music to the ears of Almabaev, who likely justifies his -400 price tag and smothers Johnson with grappling. It’s all well and good showing good grappling ability on top and bottom against Anheliger and Jack Cartwright, but Almabaev is a whole different league. Almabaev likely smokes him here. I played Almabaev in a parlay with Josefine Knutsson for 2u at -110.
How I line this fight: Asu Almabaev -400 (83%), Jose Johnson +400 (17%)
Bet or pass: 2u Assu Almabaev to Win (parlayed with Josefine Knutsson at -110)
Prop leans: Likely a submission win for Asu with the way Johnson gives up his back!

~Miles Johns v Douglas Silva de Andrade~
Miles Johns is an impressive and well-rounded fighter, but he lacks a killer instinct and sometimes has questionable cardio. Whilst those flaws are still good enough for him to get the better of guys like Vince Morales and Cody Gibson, he’ll struggle against more dangerous opponents that can match his pace, throw power, and not get stuck on the bottom.
Douglas Silva de Andrade strikes me as the kind of guy who fits into the latter category there. We know he hits hard, we know he has sneaky submission ability, and we know he can go a confident 15 minutes. He’s never been a high level minute winner, but he’s got the explosiveness to turn the tide of a round in an instant.
It’s not my usual way of thinking or breaking down a fight, but de Andrade just strikes me as the kind of guy who is going to benefit from the recent dismissal of USADA. He’s Brazilian, he’s absolutely jacked, and he’s at that age where he might need a little bit of help in keeping up with the younger guys in the division.
That’s a thought I cannot ignore unfortunately, so it’s enough for me to not want to get involved here. I do lean towards Miles Johns and I did initially want to consider betting him, but 2024 has definitely been a year where a lot of older guys have had a resurgence – fading older fighters is not the reliable narrative that it used to be. I pick Johns, but it’s a pass.
How I line this fight: Miles Johns +100 (50%), Douglas Silva de Andrade +100 (50%)
Bet or pass: Pass
Prop leans: None

~Lucas Almeida v Timmy Cuamba~
Chaotic and explosive hard hitter that cannot defend a takedown faces off against Man not good enough to win on DWCS.
Much variance. Just going to pass on this one.
How I line this fight: Didn’t tape
Bet or pass: Pass
Prop leans: None

~Nate Maness v Jimmy Flick~
Nate Maness is not good enough to be -400 in the UFC. His game revolves around mauling via takedowns.
Jimmy Flick is very, very one dimensional, in that he is submission from guard or bust in pretty much every fight. Whilst sometimes that’s a terrible predicament that leads him to get absolutely destroyed by good strikers…Nate Maness’ style could hand Flick is path to victory on a platter.
Jimmy Flick fights are silly, and the betting odds are always tricky. Flick looks like massive value at the start, but when it falls apart it looks awful.
Easy pass for me. If you wanted to roll the dice, Flick by Submission is the best value bet you can make here.
How I line this fight: Nate Maness -300 (75%), Jimmy Flick +300 (25)
Bet or pass: Pass
Prop leans: Flick by Submission to get the best out of his price.

~Adam Fugitt v Josh Quinlan~
A striker vs grappler affair, but neither guy is particularly good at their side of the duel. Adam Fugitt is an energetic grappler that’s keen to get in your face, but he’s not got the best top control and he can be deterred by a hard hitter.
Josh Quinlan is a guy I’ve been keen to fade since he got the UFC contract, because he very much seems like a R1 finisher or bust. He’s super aggressive and will go hard for the finish, but does leave himself open to being finished himself. Furthermore, he just isn’t a particularly good minute winner either.
I could very easily see Quinlan hitting that early finish against an opponent like Fugitt who isn’t defensively sharp or earning of respect. I could also easily see Fugitt surviving and turning the tide in the second and third. I lean towards Quinlan because I think Fugitt’s approach in the opening round will be asking for trouble, but there’s no way I’d bet on the moneyline here.
How I line this fight: Adam Fuggit +125 (45%), Josh Quinlan -125 (55%)
Bet or pass: None
Prop leans: Betting Quinlan early would probably be the way I’d go, if I had to.
Live Betting Leans: If we’re still going into R2, Fugitt’s chances should increase as Quinlan’s dangerousness fades.

~Carli Judice v Gabriella Fernandes~
Interesting that we’ve got another DWCS split decision loser that’s making a UFC appearance after not getting signed…despite not fighting since. The DWCS fighter laundering continues, as now you don’t even need to win to get a fucking contract.
I actually bet Judice in her DWCS fight. I expected her to have the higher volume and just completely out-hustle her opponent, but weirdly that’s exactly what her opponent did to her. It was a weird one because my read was perfect, just that the other fighter implemented it haha. I also bet Karackaite in her UFC debut, so nice to reclaim a bit of the money lost.
I still think Judice is decent enough for a fighter so inexperienced, and she’s more than just a woman with a 3-1 record. Gabriella Fernandes has historically been unable to stuff a takedown also, which is an interesting narrative that I’m beginning to think about more in the future. I’ve lost two bets this year (Cesar Almeida and Robelis Despaigne) because I didn’t expect their opponents to exploit the obvious grappling disadvantage, so I think it’s worth considering it could be in play for Judice here.
I understand the difference in experience, but this line seems ridiculously wide to me. You simply cannot trust a fighter with bad takedown defence and next to no get ups at -2XX. Judice also isn’t a bad striker, so I don’t think she’s going to get completely obliterated in Fernandes’ world either…so I absolutely can see a path to victory for her.
I’m not going to say I have any idea where the line really should be, but I think fading Fernandes specifically at this price is a totally viable option. I will therefore have 0.5u on Carli Judice at +210.
How I line this fight: Hard to say but definitely not this wide.
Bet or pass: 0.5u Carli Judice to Win (+210)
Prop leans: Judice by Decision, probably

~Julia Polastri v Josefine Knutsson~
I can’t remember if I broke this fight down the first time before it got cancelled, but I couldn’t find it anywhere. I bet Knuttson originally at -250, and luckily for me the price actually got better this time around.
Polastri is a fighter I’m familiar with. She’s rangey, and she’s a decent enough striker. She will finish opponents that aren’t on her level, but her awful takedown defence means that her level will always sit somewhere in the middle of the division.
Josefine Knutsson is quite young in her MMA career, but she’s definitely showing some serious promise. She’s got a decent kickboxing record, and was regarded as one of the best P4P female kickboxers before she transitioned over to MMA. In short, I expect her to have a striking advantage against most opponents, Polastri included.
But what makes this one a confident pick, and what makes Knuttson -225, is that she has used her advantage in the standup to dedicate time to working on her grappling. We saw that in her UFC debut – she may have been fighting a can that had no business being in the cage with her, but she was able to show off her grappling, which looked to be at a pretty decent level. It’s probably still a work in progress, but Polastri’s aforementioned lack of takedown defence should make things much easier to the Swede.
So to summarise, Knutsson should be the better striker, and she can easily mix in the takedowns and win with offensive grappling if she needs to. In a sport like WMMA where the ‘puncher’s chance’ is much less reliable an outcome, I struggle to see how Polastri asserts herself as the dominant fighter here. -250 isn’t short enough, so I’ve got Knutsson in a 2u parlay with Asu Almabaev at -110.
How I line this fight: Josefine Knutsson -300 (75%), Julia Polastri +300 (25%)
Bet or pass: 2u Josefine Knuttson to Win at -110 (parlayed with Asu Almabaev)
Prop leans: None

~Jeka Saragih v Westin Wilson~
Jeka Saragih lost to Anshul Jubli, who has gone on to show you how low level the Asian MMA scene really is. I don’t think many/any of the fighters that came from Road to UFC are going to stick around too long, and Saragih is likely to be included in that. He got a shock win against Lucas Alexander last time (shoutout to me for suggesting that might happen), but a 90 second KO is a great way to fugazi the fans into thinking you’re better than you actually are.
Westin Wilson is a roleplayer who isn’t fit to fight in LFA, let alone the UFC. It’s an absolute joke that he’s fighting for a second time in the company.
Jeka is -300. Horrible price for someone of his calibre, but I understand why Wilson is being given so little chance himself. An ugly fight, and a betting line that captures that well. Just pass.
How I line this fight: no.
Bet or pass: Pass
Prop leans: None

Bets (Bold = been placed)
2u Tagir Ulanbekov to Win (-167)
3u Garrett Armfield to Win (-175)
2u Asu Almabaev & Josefine Knutsson to Win (-110)
0.5u Carli Judice to Win (+210)
0.25u Parlay Pieces (+400)

Parlay Pieces: Tagir Ulanbekov, Asu Almabaev, Josefine Knutsson, Garrett Armfield
Dog of the Week: Carli Judice
Picks: Alex Perez, Tagir Ulanbekov, Ikram Aliskerov, Shayilan Nuerdanbieke, Miles Johns, Timmy Cuamba, Asu Almabaev, Nate Maness, Josh Quinlan, Carli Judice, Josefine Knutsson, Jeka Saragih,

Hey all, this is going to be quite a long read so I ask you to bear with me and my Google translated English.
I grew up catholic, but like many others of you, the answers were not good enough. I tried past life regression with the help of a CD, that’s how old I am. :) It didn’t work during the meditation but I always had very vivid dreams and even now I can tell if it’s something prophetic (concerning my life only) or just a dream processing the daily life. But oh boy! the dream I had after hearing the track for months was intense and didn’t feel like a dream at all but a memory.
Let’s start with me knowing that I was not really alive. No physical body but a form of remembering how I looked before or should look. My external appearance mirrored it. I found myself among thousands of other souls in a bright place. Huge! No boundaries, we all were wearing the same simple linen clothes. All including myself were happy, playful, loving and funny, even ecstatic! Right there I understood why one would miss this place and how it explained my homesickness and sadness, longing for this feeling! It was pure bliss. I wandered around for a long time, watching all of them being so happy and thinking to myself how this even was possible? I mean, I felt it too but at some point, it was … enough? I felt filled up. Also there was no challenge, no learning. I felt bored. And here comes a cut to another memory inside the dream. Like the answer to my internal question.
I was standing along a wall (although there was no ending or beginning) with many others in a long line. We were waiting for new clothes. Witch I found strange. Finally I saw those in front taking off their old clothes and putting on the new ones. The sudden change in their mood was striking. When it was my turn I realized that the wall I was standing at, had huge windows, behind them stood people no different to us, except their clothes were brighter and they seemed to be operating some consoles, looking at us and giving out the new garments. I received mine. The tunic felt damp and heavier than the one I was wearing, and it was coated with a creamy substance. Suddenly I knew these were drugs and I already felt it on my souls skin. It was not really skin, energy pattern of some sort.
I feel really stupid about this, because only a few days ago I fully realized that drugs inside clothes are absolutely a thing. To my defense, I haven’t been thinking of this reincarnation dream for a decade.
I was reminded of my dream due to an interview Dr Ammon Hillmans gave and his statements about drugs Jesus used.
Anyhow…. I went away and left the clothes somewhere or refused to take them. I remember that this caused a commotion inside the laboratory? or whatever this place was. I will call it that for now for lack of a better description. They watched me and tried to keep track of where I was going. I started panicking and told those around me, that something was wrong and this place was like a prison of joy and that they have been drugged for whatever reason all of this was not real. I think some had already thoughts of their own. I could see the change in their faces. But nobody could answer me where we were, or for how long, nor why! Many just ignored me. I knew my time was up.
Then the next memory cut: I am caught. I am inside, or can see inside the laboratory. Someone with authority is entering the room and is giving instructions. He comes towards me and is suddenly really huge, like… I can only see his face. As if I would see him through a screen or a peephole. He says something about sending me away. I want an explanation but he just leaves me.
He has a white beard and reminds me of the typical children drawings of god on a cloud.
I realize, I’m in a round tiny vessel, but it’s made from my soul. I am the vessel and it’s my boundary. As if one is hold by a magnetic field which also forms you into this vessel. I have the feeling of being betrayed or robbed. Then I’m out in space. I can’t steer the craft. I recognize Earth quite late and I’m not happy about it because there is not much there! Except vegetation. My soul swirls towards a clearing in a jungle. In the middle is a machine and it seems to be the receiver of the field I’m bound to. My soul enters it.
Next memory cut: The machine looks like two narrow cones pointing towards each other. The cones are from a dark metal or rock. Where the apex meet, a dark substance is formed. I am now outside of the memory and move around to watch what happens. I am now aware that it is a dream. A man with cloths from feathers also in his hair is operating the machine. I had the feeling to know him. And that he is the first or one of the first operating on Earth. He somehow knows that my now-me is watching. He smiles and puts his hand around the black mass forming in the machine. It’s like a tiny pebble of wobbeltet material. Cut: I’m again in my souls body. He opens his hand and I see his huge smiling face. I’m a black caterpillar in his palm. My thoughts suddenly change. I can describe it like this: you always play a highly sophisticated game with many buttons and options and then suddenly you go retro and switch to a two button game. My thoughts became harder to remember. They changed to expressions of the outer world. His palm was open in the sun, so the thoughts were: Light! Hide shadow! Predator! Bird. But there were no birds. Feelings did not change. I felt fear of being eaten and being in the sun. He puts me down on a big green leaf: Green! Eat! Crawl shadow. Eat! I really tried to remember that I was human, but it was not possible in this new body! Yet, from time to time other, deeper thoughts came through but did never last. Just a knowing of something more. Then I woke up.
I asked to know about my first life on earth. That was it. I have so many questions! I don’t know if this process of happiness is something that is needed, a form of relaxation maybe? But then I remember, that I didn’t agree with it. I wonder how much details I missed during the cuts and if there are others who remember something similar?
Thank you for reading :)

Hi all,
I’m considering transferring out a small ish defined benefit pension into a SIPP.
The value of the pension is £2.5kpa. Key details are as follows: - inflation adjusted each year by CPI - lump sum death grant currently worth £11k - annual survivors pension of £0.6kpa - linked to state pension age but should be able to take it with reduced benefits of c45% reduction at 57. - some of the £2.5k benefit could be exchanged for a lump sum on a £1 for £7 lump sum basis at pensionable age.
Few details about me: 32M, looking to retire between 50-55. I’m conscious that the state pension age will continue to rise and I’ll take a big hit to take this pension early. I’m thinking that transferring the value now as a lump sum to a SIPP and with the (hopefully) compounding gains effect between now and when I’m 50-55 it’ll be worth more than if I leave it in the defined benefit scheme and take a % reduction to take it early.
1) Has anyone previously transferred out of a defined benefit scheme? How was the process of doing this? I know it’s frowned upon as usually they are really lucrative pension schemes but I just don’t feel it will fit with my circumstances / aims and objectives of retiring early. 2) Is there a rough rule of thumb for calculating how much this will be worth to transfer out? I’ve asked for a quote but would like to know roughly what to expect. It’s currently calculated as £40k of my LTA per the latest benefit statement. Does this translate to a value to transfer? I’m conscious that I’ll likely need to take specific financial advice for over £30k transfer.
Any help / thoughts much appreciated. I don’t really have anyone I can discuss this kind of thing with.