10th Moon, 25 AC

Over Greyhelm
Her roar was heard well before she’d been spotted coming over the horizon. The thunderclap of her wings followed quickly soon after as the behemoth that was Veraxes neared the tents. The watchful eyes of those below could see two white blobs, small compared to the massive black dragon sitting between her shoulder blades.
Aelor Belearys had made sure to wear his finest white plate, his face had been painted black to put an emphasis on his eyes and the white plate he’d worn. There his purple eyes moved slowly looking for the perfect place to bring her down.
His kinsmen had left days prior to him to make sure they’d arrived on time, meanwhile Aelor and his younger brother Aegon had stayed behind, the little Conqueror in the making had wanted to fly with his elder brother and while his mother Jeyne had protested it, no-one could stop Aelor from making it so.
They should have landed earlier than they did. Aegon had asked his brother to fly for a bit longer, and so Veraxes did just that, she encircled the campgrounds for six loops. Her roar echoing for all to hear.
The sound of which was one that Aelor knew would cause some tension. It was akin to a shrieking, one made by a hundred beings living giving one final shout as if they were in fear for their life.
Yet it came from a dragon which made it far more heart wrenching.
Eventually Veraxes banked right and moved towards an open field, where the tent of House Belaerys would be put up. Well away from all. A place where Veraxes could slumber and watch over them.
Slowly Aelor undid the chain that kept him on the saddle and aided his younger brother in doing the same. Once that was done, they’d made their way down Veraxes’s back and onto the ground.
There he’d stand, awaiting servants, knights and members of House Belaerys to arrive.
(open to the Belaerys and anyone who wants to chat with a rider next to his beast ig)

I’m a black woman, and I wonder about this. I’ve always been in an area that has a low black population, and will note that I do think, based upon observation, that a black woman who lives in an area with a low black population is likely to be more open to dating white men than a black woman who lives in an area with a high black population will be.
But even with that being said, as someone who lives in an area that doesn’t have a terribly high black population, it is rare for me to see black men dating and married to black women here. When I was in high school, black boys seeking out white girls was a “thing.” I receive a lot more attention when I walk around in an area that has a higher black population than I do in my city. I’ve met black women who grew up here that still have a preference for black men. As I’ve grown older, I’ve realized I have a preference for black men even though I haven’t moved. But I can’t say I’ve met many black men who grew up in the same area who prefer black women.
So why is that? I understand that environment growing up and what you see in the media are factors. But as a black woman, I’m wondering myself - why am I not very attracted to white men anymore, like I was for a time in middle school? I had a huge crush on David Bowie in middle school, and remember thinking that Sam (John Francis Daley) from freaks and geeks was cute.
In 9th grade I had my longest strongest crush on a 1/2 black 1/2 white boy, though by 11th grade I disliked him. In 11th grade I dated an average (in my opinion, there have been people who felt he was slightly below average but racism was likely factoring in, he was overweight) looking black boy. I resent both of those people now.
I would ideally prefer to date a black man who is at a healthy weight. I am probably the least attracted overall to Asian men, though I don’t know why. I am attracted to some Mexican/Latino men, but have only felt attraction to above average looking ones and very occasionally to average looking ones (occasionally.)
I have an older brother, and am from a low income family. I actually don’t like my father at all.
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Hello all, I've been playing for a few years but this is my first wizard, and only like the third character thats reached this high in level. That said, I am looking for strategies and even spell suggestions for next level to help my party survive. We are very strong and consistently punch above our weight class, so to speak, but while the DM is very generous, we have also nearly TPK'd twice in the last few sessions (One we pulled out a win and the other was a tactical retreat.) The other two in the party are (were?) new players when we started the campaign. Sorry in advance for the wall of text, I just like full context and don't post much. Hopefully this is in the right place.
So in the party we have a: Level 7 Heavy weapon master+Sentinel bear-barian human. Tanks and DPS (second character ever)
Level 5 Newbold wolf barbarian, 2 fighter that switches from point man to dagger throwing with quick toss and I think has plans to go Rune knight? (First character ever)
Then me Level 1 Artificer, 6 Bladesinger Harengon. Quandrix background (no free feat). Was originally supposed to be a Van Hellsing like character, then has become more party mom and watch dog that does everything from Face to Healer to Crowd Control to Buffer. I wear many hats and am stretched thin while trying to also shove spotlight onto the Newbies by facilitating what they wanna do with their characters. I have come to play 90% support in one way or another.
Spells: Cantrips: Guidance Thorn Whip Booming Blade Mind Sliver Minor Illusion Prestidigitation
Artificer: Cure Wounds Guiding Bolt Feather Fall Catapult Absorb Elements
Wizard: 1st Bless (Fey Touched) Silvery Barbs Shield Entangle Mage Armor Detect Magic Floating disk Guiding Hand
2nd Misty Step (Fey Touched) Summon Beast (Story reward) Dragon's Breath Mind Whip Vortex Warp Shadow Blade Spider Climb Water Breathing Blindness/Deafen Detect Thoughts Augry Suggestion Hold Person Invisibility
3rd Fireball Aura of Vitality Hynotic Pattern Counterspell Spint Shroud
4th Black Tentacles
Relevant magic items:
Custom Staff - 10 charges, 1 charge to cast: Find Familiar, Silent image, Comprehend Languages, or Grease. If I succeed a saving throw against a spell that only targets me, I can reflect it as if I cast it for a charge.
Mask that casts darkness, centered on you, when you put you fingers in it. Used in combination with a severed goblin hand that as a bonus action acts like a mage hand and saves me hand.
Brassiere of Fire Summoning (GM flubbed so now wizardress has a bronze breast plate) summons a Fire Elemental for 4 turns, but no saves required, once per day.
Staff of Swarming Insects.
Magic abilities. Has permanent Detect magic. 1 minute per day flight. 1 minute per day. Ghost form with resistance to all damage, but also all damage I deal is now halved and turned to necrotic. Can pass through walls.
We fight a lot of undead and magic items are mostly random. Any advice would be greatly appreciated.

H: Tradelist W: Offers
Im Especially after UNY AP FDC Trapper LA and RA or Apparel!
AA/e/90, Gatling gun, Lmg
AA/50C/25 Fixer(2x), Handmade, Tesla Riffle, Dragon, Combat shotgun, Pipe Revolver, BP Pistol, BP Plunder, Em, EPR perfect mods, AD
AA/25A/Dur EPF
AA/25/Dur .50, Minigun, epr
AA/E/15R Pipe Pistol,
aa/25/90 Gamma gun, epp, flamer
AA/25/Dur NU Laser Riffle, Fixer, Hm, Gamma gun, Holy fire
AA/50C/15c epp
AA/Ap/25 Holy fire
AA/25a/Dur AGL,
AA/Pa/1s Grognaks Axe
AA/50C/90 Grognaks Axe, NU Laser Riffle, epp
AA/50L/25 Tommy gun
AA/50C/15r Hm
AA/e/15c RR (2x), Em
AA/25/25 lmg(2x) EPR, Rail, Fixer
Aa/25a/90rw AGL
Aa/e/25 Pipe Bolt Pistol, Radium, Fixer
AA/40/40 Ski sword
AA/50c/50bs Compound Bow
AA/40pa/50bs chainsaw
AA/40pa/1S Blue ridge Iron
AA/E/25 Fixer(3x), .44 Pistol
AA/40/40 Chainsaw (2x)
AA/25a/25 epr 2x
AA/50h/15c EPP
AA/50h/50bs EPP
Aristocrat:
Ari/Pa/40 Chainsaw
Ari/50/25 Cryo
Ari/E/15r Minigun
Ari/50C/Dur CR
Ari/25/25 Epr
Ari/25/50bs epp
Assassins:
A/50c/25 Hm, Single Action Revolver
a/e/Dur Gatling gun
Aa25a90rw AGL
A/25/50bs Plasma Pistol
A/25/15r Laser Pistol
Berserk:
Be40/40 Drill
Be25/25 epp
Berz/e/25 10mm sub
Bloodied:
B40Pa/1a Bear arm
B/50C/15C Hm ( 2x ), Pumpgun, .44 Pistol, Rwr, Epr perfect mods, Bow
B/50C/25 Chainsaw, Auto Pipe, BP Plunderbuss, Handmade, Em
B/E/25 lmg, combat riffle , AR, 10mm, Pipe riffle, Single Action Revolver, Radium
B/25/Stealth 10mm
B/E Black powder Riffle
B/Ap/25 Ul Laser Riffle, Gamma gun
B/50L/25 Hm
B/25/Dur RR ( 2x), Agl, Ugl, Flamer
B/e/50bs Combat riffle, BP Pistol
B/25/15r Gauss, 10mm, EPF, Cryo,
B/25/25 combat riffle, b2525 gatling plasma, Radium, gp, gl, EPR, Handmade
B/Bash/50bs Minigun'
B/50h/25 Fixer
B/25/90 epp with alligned flamer, lmg, Gatling laser, Cryo
B/e/15c Radium
B/40pa/40 chainsaw
B/e/90 AR
B/50l/50bs Peppershaker
B/25/50bs Plasma Thrower, Laser Pistol
B/e/90 lmg, Gatling
B/50c/90 EPP
B/25a/50bs epp
B/50c/15r Em
B/25a/90 lmg, gl
Be15r fixer
Executioners:
Exe/50C/25 Hm (2x), Minigun, 10mm Smg, em
Exe/E/25 Lever, Combat Shotgun, 10mm Pistol
Exe/25/25 EPR, Gauss, Lever,
Exe/50C/15C EM
Exe/25/Dur Fixer
Exe/25/15r GP
Exe/50L/25 GAuss
Exe/E/15r Pipe Bolt Pistol
Exe/25/90 Radium, 10mm Smg, Hm (2x)
Exe/50h/25 Gamma gun, epp
Exe/e/15r Pipe Revolver
Exe/25/50bs epp
Furious:
F/50C/25 NU Laser Riffle, Radium, CR,
F/Pa/25 Chinese Sword
F/25/Dur Minigun
F/Bash/Dur Minigun
F/25/25 UGatling Laser, EPR, Radium
F/Ap/25 GP
Gourmands:
G/50h/25 epp
G/E/15R Radium
G/PA/25 DC Gauntlet,
G/50c/25 Flamethrower, Em
G/e/25 Hm
G/25/25 rwr
Instigating:
I/50c/25 bow
Inst/Ap/25 epp
Juggernaut:
Jugg/50h/25 EPP
Jugg/e/90 Fixer, hm
Jugg/e/25 Fixer, RR
Jugg/25/25 Fixer, Gamma Gun, hm , Cryo
Jugg/Pa/40Pa Chainsaw
Jugg/e/15r .50
Jugg/e/dur .50
Jugg/50c/25 hm,
Junkie:
J/E/25 Hm, RR, Em
J/25/15r EPR Perfect mods Alligned Auto, AGL, tommy gun
J/SS/1s Bowieknife, Powerfist,
J/25/15r RR(2x),
J/50c/15c RR, Single Action Revolver
J/25/90 .50,
J/25/25 Western Revolver, Kabloom
J/50l/25 epp
Medic:
Med/25/25 Fixer
Med/25/15r Holy Fire
Med/50c/25 Minigun, AR,
Mutant:
M/25/15r AGL
M/Bash/Dur Minigun
M/50H/25 EPP Perfect Mods(alligned Auto)
M/25/25 10mm
Nocturnal:
N/E/25 .50
N/50c/25 Em
N/25/15r 10mm
Quad:
Q/E 10mm, Lever, Gatling gun
Q/E/25 Lever, Combat Riffle.50, Sniper riffle, Fixer
Q/25/15r Fixer
Q/25/90 Hm, Em, Fixer, epp
Q/E/15C Pipe Bolt Pistol(2x), 10mm Pistol,
Q/25A/25 Fixer
Q/50L/25 Fixer, Tesla
Q/50C/15r .50, Tommy gun Gatling gun, Auto Pipe,
Q/25/50bs Fixer, Holy fire, DB, Hm, Auto Pipe, Cryo
Q/50C/Dur Fixer (2x), hm, EPP ,Railway
Q/E/90 railway, .50 cal, Minigun
Q/25/25 Pipe Revolver, Ab, EPR perfect mods,
Q/50C 10mm, Em
Q/Ap/15r Fixer
Q/25A/Dur Holy Fire, Gamma gun
Q/25A/15r Holy Fire,
Q/E Pipe Pistol, Hunter Riffle, Pumpgun, Combat Riffle, DB
Q/50C/25 Minigun,Tommy, Plasma Riffle, Gatling gun, Western Revolver, Epr, Radium, Handmade
Q/50b/25 Tesla, Hm
Q/50l/15r tesla
Q/25 Tesla
Q/50H/25 Radium, EPR, Western Revolver,
Q/e/15r hm(2x), Gatling gun, Em, Railway, DB, Pipe riffle
Q/ls/25 Ab
Q/25/15c epp
Q/50h/15r EPP
Q/e/50bs Rwr
Q/25/15c Railway (2x) , EPP
Supressor:
S/e/25 Fixer
S/25/15r Fixer
S/50c/25 Hunting riffle
Two Shot:
TS/50C/25 Fixer (2x), Hm (2x), Tesla, Dragon
Ts/25/25 AR, Fixer, epp, Ultracite laser riffle
Ts/E/Dur Minigun
Ts/50H/25 Fixer, Radium
Ts/25/dur Fixer, hm
Ts/e/25 Pipe Revolver, RWR, Em, 10mm Pistol,
Ts/Ls/25 Assaultron Head
Ts/e/15c Lever (2x)
Ts/25/15r Flamethrower, EPR,
TS/50c/15c RR, Ab
TS/50L/25 Em Ts/e/15r lmg
Ts/25/90, Lmg
Ts/50c/15c Plunderbuss
Ts/e/90 Pumpgun, lmg
Vampire:
V/50C/15r GP, Gatling Gun
V/50C/15r Railway
V/e/dur Hm, Em
V/e/25, Hm, Em
V/Ap/25 Fixer
V/50L/25 Fixer, RR, 10mm, Hm
V/50C/25 Gauss, Chainsaw, DB(2x), Fixer, 10mm Pistol, handmade
V/e Lever
V/25/15c Hm(2x), Gatling laser, epp
V/25/25 Gatling laser, Pipe Bolt Pistol, Epr
V/25/50Damage resist EPR
V/e/15r Western Revolver, Single Action Revolver,
V/25/15r Plasma Thrower, Gatling Plasma
V/25a/15r Plasma Thrower
V/25/90 Gamma Gun, Flamer
V/50h/25 epp
Armor Pieces:
Uny/AP/HTD H Leaver Set
Uny/Mix/Sent bos Combat armor set
As/Mix/Cav Usa Set
Uny/7Explo/Cav FSA La
OE/AP/Sent Usa LL
Oe/7Exp/Cryo Fsa LL
As/7E/AWR Raider PA LA
Aristo/AP/WWR Trapper RL
Aristo/AP/Stealth FSA Chest
As/7Exp/Sent FSA RL
Oe/7Exp/WWR X01 LA
Bolst/S/WWR T60 LL
Uny/Ap/Stealth Trapper RA
Uny/S/WWR light Metal armor LA
Uny/I/Cav Wood Rl
Uny/1S/Wwr Heavy Raider Armor Ra
Van/P/WWR FSA LL
Uny/S/Limb Usa LL
Uny/I/JWR FSA LL
Uny/Ap/Sent Fsa la (level 40)'
uny/ap/sneak trapper chest, trapper ra
Oe/Ap/wwr Raider PA rl ( level 30)
Uny/1P/Cav fsa Ra
Uny/S/WWR light Metal La
Uny/HungeWWR Usa Rl
OE/1e/FDC Usa ll
Bolst/I/sentt Trapper LA
Bolst/S/Sent Wood RL
Uny/L/WWR Heavy raider LA
Uny/S/WWR Sturdy leather RA
Uny/I/Sent Wood LL
Uny/Cryo/Cav FSA Cp
Uny/Cryo/Awr Fsa LL
Uny/I/AWR USA RL
Ari/Ap/Wwr Heavy metal CP'
Van/Cryo/WWR Leather CP
Van/AP/AWR Raider RA
Bolst/led/Cav Metal CP
Oe/1s/WWR Metal LA
Uny/Int/Sent Usa RL

Ever since I was young when I meditate/clear my mind and close my eyes, I feel weird shapes in my mind's eye and they are very frightening sometimes. Like I'm not actually seeing the shapes, I am visualising them but not voluntarily. The shapes I see come right up close to my face and I get the feeling I'm going to bump into something or something is going to hit me because it feels like something is right in front of my face. And the shapes change constantly and they are clean and dirty at the same time, big and small at the same time. I don't know how to explain it but sometimes it brings me a lot of fear and I don't know why? There is nothing scary about the shapes. They change from white and shiny and clean to having black smudges and dots and grime all over them, flashing between these two things. But they move so fast I wouldn't be able to draw them down and they are constantly changing from big to small, sometimes so big they feel like they are flat and wrapping around my face. It's really weird and I want to know if anyone else has this. I am on dexamphetamine for ADHD and it hasn't changed the shape thing. I also have autism and anxiety but I don't think it's anything to do with that. Thanks in advance.

Scroll to the bottom for to long didnt read haha.
Just finished rebirth and i have to say that the entire story felt like it was trying to mash 10 completely different stories together. The first game ends with the world almost ending and huge fight against sephiroth, then cloud is uh... somewhere? and sephiroth says something about having 7 seconds to save the world. Then part 2 starts and everythings fine kinda, no mention of that 7 second thing ever again haha, but it doesnt really wrap up or pay off almost anything from part 1 or the prequels in any meanignful way and overall felt very filler for the most part to me.
You spend almost all of the story doing nothing towards your goal, going to the beach, arcades, minigames and all sorts of other stuff and then randomly like 2-3 chapters away from the end wutai declare war, kiiinda, its never shown on screen and its pretty much the last time the war is mentioned in the story.
It set up a random out of no where plot with the Gi i think they were called, and then basically never mentions or shows them again.
Introduces a random cetra lost city it hasnt mentioned once and acts like everyone knows what it is, reds like oh yeah ive heard of this place i was sat there like have you because i havent haha.
Starts getting innnconceivable with how many flip flops it does in the end sequence, it goes much more for spectacle than actually making it make sense, people are teleporting evvvverywhere, each new phase of the boss keeps jumping from random place to place, you'll be in a church as zack fighting sephiroth, then playing as red fighting a masssssiive sephiroth (because seph can do that apparently) then you'll be cloud and aerith whos just died fighting sephiroth.
What i mean by this game feels like nothing happened, the end of the first game and end of the second game even though theyre 80 hours apart, are almost scene for scene identical. You fight rufus then Sephiroth starts ending the world, then you fight jenova, then bahamut then finally sephiroth, not only were these three basically the same as the first game, the setup was almost the same. Cloud starts getting headaches then a big wall of spirits appears, then you start of as just cloud and one by one the party get involved. Then you beat sephiroth only for him to escape and the game ends with you going to look for sephiroth. the order of bosses and generally everything that happens is the exact same minus aerith kinda dying.
The boss order is the same, the final few scenes are basically the exact same almost word for word with sephiroth saying the exact same stuff as part 1. Barret even jokes about how its the exact same by saying "Deja vu huh, feels like back on the bridge". Zack is seen in the church saying hes gonna go look for them again (which is litterally how the dlc for the first game ended!!!)
Its just reset everything back to how the first game ended, but this time cait and yuffie are here. But other than aerith no characters died and the plot is in the exact same state as it was at the end of the first game "lets go find sephiroth and save the world" again.
So many plot threads just didnt get resolved, well basically all of them to be fair haha, it tried doing several death scenes then went back on it so fast. Oh no tsengs dying, no wait, nevermind he just stands up and says actaully im fine i'll see you around???? Oh no caits dying, everyones sad like oh no big character death, then next scene is hes back like oh did i not mention i was a robot and have a shit load more bodies (like actually just what haha???) Aerith dies and then within five minutes its like oh wait nevermind now shes even stronger and will help you fight sephiroth haha. It tries doing a sad death but clouds kinda chill about it and is still talking to aerith so its like okay i guess shes dead but also completely fine haha. Then ends with the wutai hooded guy being just a random black robe guy but also sephroth kinda and the whole war was basically just a distraction. Shinra looking for the whales was also a big story thread that was immediately discarded, you fight the woman trying to capture one once and then they abandon that goal and its never mentioned again.
Sephiroth as a whole was barely even used and felt more like a jumpscare than anything, he gets to the black materia, we try to stop him so he summons that giant wall monster thing to stop up but then hes not there when we get passed it??? cait sacrifices himself then jibaits us like im actually totally fine, then we magically get out of there even though the exit is miiiiiles away and through hundreds of spinning room puzzles. then barret tosses the black materia on the floor for some stupid reason (this is absolutely nothing like barret) and it just rolls to sephiroth haahah?? the actaul dumbest way for him to get it. then sephiroth drops it and tells cloud to pick it up and give it back to him so cloud does it and then is like ha bye, cuts the branch so cloud falls, then it pretty much speedrun shits on the entire cool story set up in the other world, biggs does litterally nothing then dies, again. Zack says hes going to find a cure, then hes seen driving up to the door, then hes not looking for the cure and is suddenly back with biggs? guess no cure, then his version of cloud and aerith are fine i guuuuess? then random shinra people attack zack for some reason, he jumps off the cliff but is somehow fine. Is marlene okay in that universe? shes litterally never seen or mentioned again haha. That entire other world was suuuuch a pointless addition, from what ive heard alot of people agree, the end goal is basically the same but with another world and a bunch of new random stuff tacked on that just muddles it all.
We go back to barrets hometown and he immediately leaves and we never get closure on that, thought we'd go back and save the town or something.
Also vincent got sidelined sooooooooooooooooo hard, he got introduced and said he wants to come with us to fight sephiroth and then is legitimately not seen for the entire ending, he doesnt help get the black materia and doesnt even take part in any of the final fights, he was such a pointless addition haha. Same for cait, his whole contribution was failing to find one terminal, then giving our key to shinra who we just follow and go to the place anyway then we forgive him and he rejoins the team straight after, shinra could have just taken it at the tournament without his help and cait wouldnt have betrayed us and the end result would have been litterally the same haha. It was such pointless tacked on drama that didnt even slightly change how the next scenes played out.
All the turks basically do nothing this whole game, they randomly show up for fights and then survive and run off only to come back again and again and again, hojo and roche especially, they just randomly pop in for a fight then leave and add nothing to the narrative.
There was a massive villain introduced in the dlc for the first part who litterally doesnt even get mentioned again other than one flashback with yuffie.
From what ive seen a fair amount of this was new additions that werent in the orignal, its not that i dislike the story, i just hate how little anything has changed since the start of my like 95 hour playthrough. One character has died, and the world is still ending with almost nothing being different other than 2 new party members and a plane.
Too long didnt read:
Absolutely nothing has changed other than aerith kinda dying.
Game 1, ends with the gang looking out into the horizon like "the worlds ending we gotta find sephiroth", zack being at the church like "i gotta find cloud"
Game 2, ends with the gang looking out into the horizon like "the worlds ending we gotta find sephiroth", zack being at the church like "i gotta find cloud"
The other world storyline was such a pointless addition, biggs survived and his whole story ended with him failing to do something and him being like well guess im useless then dying. And zacks whole im gonna cure cloud and aerith ended in nothing because they kinda just get up at some point and go on a date, marlene and the mum also just disappear and are never seen again haha.
No turks die, after like 50 boss battles against them. Reno also just kinda spawns in and decides to help for the climax. Tseng gets stabbed and it does a sad death but then hes like actually you know what im fine imma walk it off.
War is declared with wutai but other than a few dead wutai outisde a reactor nothing was ever shown on screen and i dont even think theyre at war anymore at the end of the game haha.
Sephiroths fine, shinras fine. The world is lush and greeeeen as hell. The planet is supposendly dying, theyve said it for like 200 hours now across all the games, but god dayum it looks healthier than our earth, lush green jungles, deep blue oceans, beautiful desserts haha. could at least kinda make it look like its dying so it feels like somethings changed from the start of game one haha.
Overall good game but good god i can see why so many people are saying the game makes such little sense and goes for spectacle over sense haha. which is fine i guess, it was hype and the ending was great fight wise i just wish it wasnt all the same bosses as the first games ending and ended with the exxxact same cliffhanger.

With all the talk about the Selena situation, people are, of course bringing up the last messy UCLA situation, Jeffreygate. There are people who have declared undying hate for LSU/Jay Clark/LSU AD because of it.
For context when I say this- I'm Black.
Yes, I think Alexis did unacceptable things, and was given the benefit of being a young white woman, who "just has some learning to do" and "didn't mean any harm." That part is BS. But honestly, sometimes the math doesn't math, with people calling for her head. Again, I'm not saying she didn't do anything wrong. She did. But then she went to a team where Hailey Bryant, Kiya Johnston are superstars, and Kai Rivers is a vocal leader, not to mention the other WOC on the team.
LSU is so much about team culture and supporting each other. Their former volunteer coach Ashleigh Clare Kearny Thigpin is now the biggest-wig in charge of EDI stuff at LSU (whatever that looks like in Baton Rouge.)
What I'm saying is, there is no way LSU is going to f with someone who continues to cause trouble in the team wirh her racist views. And who knows- maybe she's actually changed or maybe she knows to keep her mouth shut now, but I cannot see LSU gymnastics harboring anyone who shows a consistent refusal to learn about race issues. Something changed there, and we weren't privy to it.
My point in all of this is, at the time, people practically wanted to burn Alexis at the stake for what she said and did, but for me, the fact that she seems to be thriving on the LSU team suggests that there's a lot of nuance there that we the gymternet are not privy to. And I believe the same is true, and will continue to be true for the Selena Harris situation. There is nuance here, and we will probably never know the whole truth.

Cigarettes and rebellion have always gone hand-in-hand, and in an age of cigarette packet-sized health warnings, now more than ever, smoking a fag says: 'I do not give a fuck.' But if Brandon Flowers is hoping to strike a seditious pose by sparking up at the start of the interview, it's not going according to plan. The Killers' frontman is on all fours rooting through the junk that carpets the anteroom at the band's rehearsal space. "Has anyone seen my lighter?" he asks, rocking back on his heels. The question hangs in the air while Brandon cocks his head, waiting for an answer like a meerkat listening for a predator. Twenty-five years old and with a delicate bone structure, there's something almost dainty about him. Receiving no response, he returns to his search. "Oh, Jeez," he sighs. "I had it just a minute ago."
It's a scene that emphatically does not suggest a rebel without a cause. The mess isn't helping. The Killers' HQ - an industrial unit sandwiched between a construction supplier and the offices of a housing development just off Dean Martin Drive in West Las Vegas - is ankle-deep in designer clothing. A Dior Homme suit lies crumpled by the door; there's a pile of shoes topped like a sundae by a pair of Marc Jacobs trainers; and anyone wishing to enter the shoebox room the band use as an office must negotiate a mountain of discarded jeans. Many items are identifiable as coming from the wardrobe of Hot Fuss, The Killers' hugely successful 2004 debut album - triple platinum in the UK with two weeks at Number One and five million sold worldwide. Look! There are the shirts, ties and suit jackets they wore when they thrilled Glastonbury 2005 with indie rock anthems Mr Brightside and Somebody Told Me. That was the crowning moment of a two-and-a-half year tour that finally concluded in October of last year. It seems that after playing that final date in Miami, they returned to Vegas and shrugged off their image onto the floor of this bland white box.
Now a fine layer of dust covers the dead clothes. The Killers have no further use for white tuxedos on their second album, Sam's Town. Today, Brandon wears a black polo shirt, black pin-stripe waistcoat, black jeans and black boots. Where there used to be a layer of foundation, there is now a beard - an untrimmed beard at that. Dave Keuning (30, guitar), Mark Stoermer (29, bass) and Ronnie Vannucci (29, drums) all echo Brandon's black ensemble. Ronnie has added Aviator shades and a handlebar moustache for a dash of motorcycle cop, Dave's frizzy bubble of hair gives him a Marc Bolan-ish air, and there's something very teenage about Mark's scuffed Vans.
Short of walking around wearing sandwich boards saying, "Our new record is a bit heavier than the last one," The Killers couldn't hope to communicate that message more effectively. And they have gained some musical girth on Sam's Town. The pop hooks that made Hot Fuss so irresistible survive intact - see the ringing guitar riffs on first single When You Were Young - but there's a newfound punchiness, coupled with an epic sweep. The minor-to-major uplifts on Bones are fabulously dramatic, the coda to Why Do I Keep Counting? thrillingly intense. Comparisons to Bruce Springsteen have been made. If they overstate the case a little, they are at leaset qualitatively accurate. The Killers are back and this time it's serious - they've got the bootlace ties to prove it.
"Hey, it says here that Springsteen's headlining Glastonbury next year," shouts Ronnie, who's flicking through the NME. He nods sagely at the page without looking up.
"Really?" asks Dave, nicknamed Crazy Dave on account of his alledgedly volatile nature.
"The Boss is headlining one night, we're playing second on the bill the next night and Kylie's headlining the Sunday," says Brandon, charging like a bull through Michael Eavis' as-yet-unannounced line-up with what subsequently proves to be a characteristic gaucheness.
But that lighter is proving elusive. This being America, none of the people hurrying to-and-fro prepping the world for the release of Sam's Town smokes. Manager Robert Reynolds - Bobby Rey to the band - barks into his mobile, booking his band onto eye-wateringly demanding tours. "We're going to make a lot of money," he cackles to himself before switching calls to make a series of stern pronouncements on legal matters. Dave, Mark and Ronnie disappear for a jam session. Artwork is approved, B-sides are decided on and schedules are hammered out.
"I can't find it," Brandon says, finally. But he's not going to be denied the opportunity to underline The Killers reinvention with a puff of smoke. "Let's go to the gas station. I'll have to buy one. It's too busy to talk here anyway."
+
Brandon's black (of course) Volkswagen Touraeg four-wheel drive is barrelling down West Flamingo Road into town. "I was a bell boy there," he says, pointing out of the driver's window at the stucco facade of the Gold Coast casino. "I was working there when we were signed."
Coming from Las Vegas, it is perhaps inevitable that casinos play a big part in The Killers' story; not only is Sam's Town named after one, it was recorded in one, too.
The band began writing songs while on the road with Hot Fuss, turning up early for soundchecks to run through new ideas. On a trip home to Vegas, George Maloof, a hotelier known for cultivating famous friends, invited them to record the album in the new studio he'd built at The Palms, his flagship hotel-cum-gambling den. When the tour finished in October 2005, they returned to Vegas and spent five month finessing the songs they'd sketched out on the road. Then, in February, they decampled to the third floor studio at The Palms and recorded Sam's Town over 11 weeks.
Producer Flood (U2, Depeche Mode) encouraged them to experiment. They overdubbed, fiddled with synthesizers and played with new equipment. It took them five weeks to get the backing vocals right. The band sang the harmonies, then double-tracked them four times. The end result recalls Queen wondering, "Is this is the real life? Is this just fantasy?" When Ronnie, a trained classical percussionist, brought some kettledrums down, eyebrows were raised; but the fabulously bombastic coda on Why Do I Keep Counting? vindicates his indulgence.
"That's kind of the Ben Hur of the album," he says. He's not wrong. Sam's Town is a record on an epic scale. "Yeah, it has drama," he continues. "But, at the same time, I think it's a little more exposed than Hot Fuss. It's a little more naked. Last time it was about a lot of fictional things." By "fictional", Ronnie means that Hot Fuss wore its predominantly British influences for all to see. Brandon's taste in music is rabidly Anglophile - he constantly references The Smiths, The Cure and Joy Division - and it showed. By contrast, Sam's Town is an unequivocally American record. The lyrical imagery is pure American dream - cars, girls, wide-open spaces and escaping to a better life. "We're burning down the highway skyline/On the back of a hurricane that started turning/When you were young," sings Brandon on When You Were Young. That's the basis of the Springsteen comparisons then, though the lack of pathos more closely recalls another blue-collar rocker from New Jersey - Jon Bon Jovi.
The phrase "this town" recurs throughout the album, and it's always receding into the distance as The Killers escape to a new life. "This town was made for passing through/I never did get along with everybody else," sings Brandon on This River Is Wild. On Read My Mind he "never really gave up on breaking out of this two-star town", while on the title track he offers something of an explanation: "Nobody ever had a dream round here."
"With the first record, there was this feeling that there was this world out there that we didn't know," says Mark later in the day. Before The Killers, he studied philosophy: now he's their quiet one. "We wanted to get out and away from this and be somewhere else. We hadn't had a lot of experience - hadn't travelled much - then we were gone for three years. We didn't sit down and say that we wanted to make a record about how we're glad to be home, but that's what happened naturally."
It's not an angsty record. The Killers have already escaped with Hot Fuss, and, having done so, they view the experience fondly now they're back. There's a mistiness to Brandon's eyes as he explains how the album got it's name.
"Sam's Town is a casino on the edge of Vegas," he says. "I grew up in Henderson, which is out on the way to the Hoover Dam. My mom and dad lived in a trailer park, and my dad used to hitchhike up and down Boulder Highway, which is the only way you could get to Vegas. Sam's Town was the first thing you saw on your way in to town. So, when you're driving down Boulder Highway from Henderson, I always thought you finally knew you were getting somewhere when you saw Sam's Town. It was kind of like a beacon."
"It's not a completely American album," contines Brandon. "We still have our English influence, but we're also from the Wild West. Somehow we've managed to unify all that on this album. it's just such a perfect resemblence of what we are."
At the petrol station, Brandon rummages through the glove box looking for change to buy a lighter. "This is a great album," he says, pointing at Highway Companion, the latest from iconic American rocker Tom Petty. "I've always been a big fan of his. He's such a great American artist."
Yes, Brandon: we get the point.
+
When Brandon finally lights his cigarette, he smokes it awkwardly, like a child mimicking something he's seen the grown-ups doing. However, when he cheerfully admits that, "I feel the same mentally as I did when I was 12," it's not a knowing nod to the fact that he sometimes behaves like a loveably precocious child, but a reference to an unusually comprehensive grounding in pop music at an early age.
When Brandon sings about "this town", he doesn't mean Las Vegas. He means Nephi, Utah or Henderson, Nevada, where he spent his childhood. His parents are Mormon and he is the youngest of six children. "I was a surprise," he says. "I've got a 42-year-old sister." If he was issues about his "surprise" status, he chooses to gloss over them. "It turned out perfect because my brother was a teenager when I was a kid," he says. "He would bring home things like Rattle And Hum by U2 and I would watch it. I remember he bought Live In Dallas by Morrissey. It was always him watching these things, or his door was shut and you'd hear The Head On The Door by The Cure blasting through the house and rattling the walls."
The Killers were formed when Brandon answered an advert Dave had placed in a local paper in late 2002. Dave cited Oasis as a big influence; Brandon had seen them play recently and responded; and, as Dave has said in previous interviews: "He was the only person to reply to my ad who wasn't a complete freak." However, the band was born in Brandon's brothers bedroom.
"His room was like a shrine," enthuses Brandon. "It was a holy place. I wish I could show you a picture of it. It was covered in posters. There'd be a big picture of Elvis wearing a bow tie that just said 'The Smiths' [the artwork for The Smiths 1987 single Shoplifters Of The World Unite]. You had The Cure wearing face paint [the artwork to The Cure's 1985 single In Between Days] - all that kind of stuff. I remember Morrissey being on the cover of the NME, with the halo [from 1985] - stuff like that. You just wanted to know about these people 'cause they were so cool. My brother seemed like such a cool person. But he was a teenager, so he wasn't going to be that nice to me, a kid."
Brandon was fascinated by his brother's collection of music, magazines and posters, but he was denied access to them - officially, at least. "I would sneak in," he says. "I knew he'd be angry if he found out, but I would go in as soon as he left the house." For a long time Brandon was too scared to actually play anything. "That didn't come 'til later. I just used to go in there because I liked it. Then I got to the point where I'd actually take a tape out and put it in. It took more guts to do that."
It was a life-changing moment. "I was ten and the first song I played was Sing Your Life by Morrissey. I remember dancing about to it."
The lyrics to Sing Your Life include the lines, "Sing your life/Just walk right up to the microphone/And name all the things that you love/All the things that you loathe." It's intriguing to wonder what Morrissey makes of the neophyte he inspired with these lines.
Eventually, Brandon inherited his brother's tape collection. "It was around the same time CDs started coming out in a big way. He started buying CDs and gave me his tapes. And that was it: it took off from there. I got a hundred of the best albums - all the New Order, all the Morrissey, all The Smiths, The Beatles. I started buying posters. I went to see The Cure in concert. It was just kind of a continuation of my brother. And it was nice because, though my parents were strict, they were already used to it from him. There was no, 'My dad doesn't understand me,' or any of that kind of stuff. My mum likes The Smiths."
Brandon was 13 and his favourite band was late-'70s/early-'80s American new wavers The Cars, and particularly their jaw-droppingly catchy 1979 single Just What I Needed.
"I wouldn't exist without that song," he says. "That was the one. I remember driving around with my mum when I was 13, and we're living in Nephi - a really small town - and I felt so cool when I put that song on. Like: 'I have something that none of these kids I'm going to middle school with tomorrow have.' That excitement is what music's about, isn't it? That's why I understand the mentality of people that don't like us because we've sold so many records. I used to like it when no one else knew about a band. So I get that - I do."
+
Brandon's first band was called Blush Response. It was never going to work out. Not because he refused to move to Los Angeles with them, but because he is utterly - comically - shameless. He's given to making outrageously boastful statements like: "It's not like the '60s, '70s and '80s now. There are only a few bands around that are really good, that just do it. I mean, there's what, five or six of us?"
For the record, in Brandon's estimation, those bands are Franz Ferdinand, Razorlight, The Strokes, The White Stripes, Yeah Yeah Yeahs and, of course, The Killers.
"I don't want people to think I'm lumping myself with other people just to make us sound cool," he says. Really? It sort of sounds like you are. But he just steamrolls through it. "Yeah, but you know what I mean," he says, grinning at his own cheekiness. He's so disgracefully forward you can't help but laugh along with him - Oh you are awful, Brandon! But joking aside, The Killers are the most commercially successful of all the bands he mentions.
Later, back at the rehearsal space, the band run through Sam's Town at deafening volume in preparation for the forthcoming tour - first the US, then the world. The infectious, almost contagious, chorus of When You Were Young sounds fabulous, as do the U2-like guitars and Twin Peaks synths of Read My Mind. Meanwhile, Smile Like You Mean It and Somebody Told Me benefit from the newfound harder edge.
They somewhat heavy-handedly underline the new direction by playing Paranoid by Black Sabbath and Get It On by T Rex. That's the thing: The Killers are not a subtle band. Their songs are like a wet kiss from a girl who's a bit too drunk. They are big and brash, and not everyone loves them for it. Mr Brightside and Somebody Told Me might go down as well at hip nightclubs as they do on the festival circuit, but the DJs play them with the same guilty look they wear when playing a pop record.
"I hate that," says Brandon. "Like writing a song you can hum somehow cheapens it? It makes me think of this quote by Morrissey. Everybody knows how he read Oscar Wilde, Keats and Yates when he was growing up and that he wanted to be a writer. He was talking to this journalist who asked why he hadn't become a writer, and Morrissey said: 'What I do is more powerful than what you do because I can write down these words and you get it to a melody. How can you beat that?' I'm of the same opinion. I don't understand why a good melody that's memorable is a bad thing."
Being dismissed as pop particular aggrieves Ronnie. "When we first came out we got compared to Duran Duran all the time. Jesus Christ! We got a keyboard player now all of a sudden he's Nick Rhodes! Come on!"
"The people who criticise us for being too poppy don't get it," agrees Mark. "I think that's the problem with a lot of rock music. People are afraid to write a song any more. Either that or they can't. And that attitude hurts music in general. The best bands ever have all written great songs. You can still do it and do it intelligently and it can be original. This isn't a studio creation with a producer writing these songs for us. We're not Avril Lavigne, or something like that. We're a real band writing real songs, just like a punk band would do, except that we write pop songs."
You get the impression that The Killers knack for showboating pop hooks that border on vulgar is inextricably tied up with the brazen side of Brandon's personality. But while his ebullient charisma, not to mention the songs themselves, mitigates his outrageousness, there is a less attractive side to his ego. He has a combative streak. He can't resist taking pot shots at emo bands, notably Fall Out Boy, whith whom The Killers share an A&R man.
Has he heard how many emo kids it takes to change a light bulb? "No." None. They just sit in the dark and cry. It's a full 30 seconds before he stops laughing. When he does he admits: "Yeah, we've had problems with other bands. You know, when you walk in the room it's like..." He whistles the theme to The Good, The Bad And The Ugly. "We're like gangs."
And while the other members of the band are diplomatic on the subject of Brandon, you don't have to read too deeply between the lines to conclude that there have been internal issues, too.
"Some people will think Brandon's the big genius," says Dave, visibly bridling. "There are songs, such as Why Do I Keep Counting?, where he's written every note. But there are others, like When You Were Young, that were more of a collaboration - like Mr Brightside, where I had some of the music and Brandon came up with the lyrics. We always have arguments about who wrote what. The truth is that we all help in that process."
When asked how success affected them, Ronnie says: "There were certain things that needed adjusting. When you're on tour for two years, people can get a little needy. It doesn't help that you're surrounded by yes men and everybody's working for you. At times we've had to say, 'Who do you think you are?' to people. No one wears the trousers, but some people would like to. I think if it wasn't for the people in the band kicking each other in the ass... Let's just say there was some ass-kickin'."
It doesn't take a genius to work out whose ass needed kicking most often.
+
It's the following day and The Killers are back at their rehearsal space. The topic of discussion is what to wear in the video for Bones, the second single. It's a big deal: the director is Tim Burton. "I feel like Frank Sinatra when I sing it," announces Brandon. "With maybe a little bit of Morrissey and a little bit of Elvis, too."
Of course he does. But if securing the services of Tim Burton tells you one thing, it's that The Killers are about to get even bigger, perhaps even make the leap to the same level as Coldplay et al. Already stars, they are about to become superstars. Brandon can hardly wait.
"Do you know that Rolling Stone didn't want to put us on the cover last time," he says indignantly. "They didn't think we were stars. We sold five million albums! What more do they want from a band?"
Whatever was required, Brandon would be happy to do most things. "I'll do stuff that some people don't want to do, 'cause I want people to hear the music," he says. However, even he has limits. "The Rolling Stone thing made the record label think: 'What can we do to make them stars?' If I go on vacation with my wife, do they have to send somebody to be there to take pictures of me? Is that how you become a star? I don't want that. I walked down the red carpet one time and I realised I don't like it. But you don't have to walk down the red carpet for people to hear your music. We do still have some of that indie blood running through our veins."
He heads off at a tangent: "When you walk around Liverpool, you think of The Beatles, or you go to Manchester and you think of The Smiths or Oasis. I want you to come to Las Vegas and think of Sam's Town. And I think we've started to capture that, which is a truer version of The Killers, 'cause that's where we're from."
He pauses.
"I used to live across the street from Sam's Town. Maybe it'll be like our Abbey Road where people go to take pictures."
Is that what he'd like?
"I wouldn't mind it," he says, desperately hoping it will come true.
He puts a cigarette between his lips, looks down at his trouser pockets and pats them in search of the lighter he bought yesterday.
"Hey, I don't suppose you've got one?"

Out of the night that covers me, Black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the Horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds and shall find me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul.
For Alamance. For Alexander. For Alleghany. For Anson. For Ashe. For Avery. For Beaufort. For Bertie. For Bladen. For Brunswick. For Buncombe. For Burke. For Cabarrus. For Caldwell. For Camden. For Carteret. For Caswell. For Catawba. For Chatham. For Cherokee. For Chowan. For Clay. For Cleveland. For Columbus. For Craven. For Cumberland. For Currituck. For Dare. For Davidson. For Davie. For Duplin. For Durham. For Edgecombe. For Forsyth. For Franklin. For Gaston. For Gates. For Graham. For Granville. For Greene. For Guilford. For Halifax. For Harnett. For Haywood. For Henderson. For Hertford. For Hoke. For Hyde. For Iredell. For Jackson. For Johnston. For Jones. For Lee. For Lenoir. For Lincoln. For Macon. For Madison. For Martin. For McDowell. For Mecklenburg. For Mitchell. For Montgomery. For Moore. For Nash. For New Hanover. For Northampton. For Onslow. For Orange. For Pamlico. For Pasquotank. For Pender. For Perquimans. For Person. For Pitt. For Polk. For Randolph. For Richmond. For Robeson. For Rockingham. For Rowan. For Rutherford. For Sampson. For Scotland. For Stanly. For Stokes. For Surry. For Swain. For Transylvania. For Tyrrell. For Union. For Vance. For Wake. For Warren. For Washington. For Watauga. For Wayne. For Wilkes. For Wilson. For Yadkin. For Yancey. For All abroad in other states and foreign lands. For North Carolina.
Raise Up
GET. EKOW. NOW!

When I was around 13 years old, I was a young stupid teenager, and hanging out with my friends, and we were all saying inflammatory things, and I said, "Yeah, if I turn 30, and I haven't accomplished anything, I'll probably just kill myself." It was an awful thing to say, and I can't believe I said it.
Well, I turned 29. I had probably close to 50 jobs, and had a complete discontentment with my life and civilization, and was contemplating suicide, and then I had a full-blown spiritual awakening, saw a vision of Jesus, God and Satan, and went through an immense dark night of the soul and personal transformation of the heart.
I just have this verse on my heart right now thinking about it, "Death and life are in the power of the tongue, and those who love it will eat its fruits, [Psalm 18:21]" and it just reminds me of what I said when I was a teenager.
I know God heard that and knew that he wasn't going to let me die of suicide. He was watching me the whole time, and he cared about me, and he didn't want to lose me.
Three years ago, I was a 29-year-old man whose life had become defined by isolation. Once curious and engaged with the world in my youth, I had slowly withdrawn into myself from depression, retreating into the comfort of my room in my mother's house. My agnostic atheism left me without a guiding light, and the mundane realities of life, from my dozens of failed jobs to my ongoing struggles with addiction, weighed heavily on my spirit. I found solace instead in the company of strategy games and suffered deeply in the rabbit hole of conspiracies on the internet.
My addictions had become an ever-tightening grip on my life. I found myself reaching for cannabis, alcohol, video games, fast food, and pornography to fill the void that had grown in my heart over the years. My life had become a series of hollow habits, each one leaving me feeling emptier than before. I could no longer deny that something was deeply wrong.
One day, while browsing online, I stumbled upon a post that claimed Thoth, the ancient Egyptian deity of knowledge and wisdom, could help those who asked for his assistance. Intrigued, I wondered if reaching out to Thoth could provide me with the help I needed.
Weeks passed since reading the post, and as I stood in my shower, my thoughts drifted to the crossroads my life seemed to have come to. I asked myself why I was stuck in a cycle of self-destructive behaviors and why I felt such a profound sense of emptiness. The steam from the shower enveloped me as I said aloud, "Thoth, if you are real, I really need your help right now. I don't want to live like this anymore; I don't want to die yet." As I spoke the words, my hand moved from the side of my body, and then to my forehead and heart, while making a hand-sign and I felt at peace.
I was stunned, realizing the hand-sign I had made was eerily similar to ones I had seen in paintings of Jesus. I was stunned but felt an unusual calmness wash over me. As I dried off and dressed, I pondered what had just happened. I went to the full-body mirror in my room, looking at myself. I saw someone I no longer recognized, someone I no longer wanted to be.
Once more, I said, "Thoth, if you are real, will you help me? This isn't who I want to be anymore." I stared at myself in the mirror, and slowly a vision began to form in my eyes. It wasn’t Thoth I saw, but Jesus.
Jesus appeared with long brown hair, a brown beard, brown eyes, and light brown skin. Half of his face was illuminated by light, while the other half was cast in shadow. The vision of Jesus was so vivid that it left me both in awe and at peace. As the vision of him faded, I remember reaching out to him because I didn't want him to go, I could tell he was here to help.
As night fell, I lay in my bed, lost in deep contemplation. I revisited the events of the day, focusing on the vision of Jesus. The clarity of the vision was imprinted on my mind, and I couldn't shake the feeling that it held a deeper meaning. I pondered the nature of good and evil, and how they were intertwined in a complex dance of duality. I found myself questioning whether the traditional view of evil as something to be hated and shunned was truly the right approach. Instead, I began to entertain the idea that perhaps evil people and perhaps even evil itself, could be understood with compassion and empathy, instead of hatred and disgust.
As I continued to ponder, I experienced a peculiar sensation in my head. It was as though something shifted in the center of my brain, around the area of my third eye or pineal gland. There was a slight pop like a tearing or crunching sound, it was not painful, but surprising nonetheless. I then felt a fluid movement from the left hemisphere of my brain to the right hemisphere, using the third eye as a bridge or something. This shift brought me a sense of balance and calmness I had not felt before. I realized I had been living predominantly in the logical part of my brain, instead of emotional side.
As I embraced this newfound state of relaxation, I began to see another vision in my mind. This time, it was God who appeared. God had long white hair, a white beard, and wore white robes and sandals. Then God began dancing, moving with joy and lightheartedness.
Before I could fully process what I was seeing, another figure appeared alongside God. It was Satan, with red skin and horns. Satan seemed curious and playful, attempting to imitate God's dance moves with enthusiasm. The sight of these two seemingly opposing forces dancing together struck me as surreal.
As I watched them dance, I found myself smiling, and really enjoying the moment. Then, my mind wandered to the Russian squat dance, a thought that seemed to come out of nowhere. To my amazement, God began performing the Russian squat dance, his movements precise and fluid. I couldn't help but laugh. It was awesome and hilarious.
Slowly, they both faded away, leaving me in a state of awe and wonder. I realized that my third eye had opened, granting me access to a deeper level of perception and understanding.
I lay in my bed for a few moments, attempting to grasp the profound implications of the vision I had just experienced. The reality of the spiritual world was undeniable now. God, Jesus, Satan, and other spiritual beings were real, their presence deeply embedded within my new understanding. This stark realization overwhelmed me, and I felt an immense fear wash over me, it was like the Eye of Sauron was upon me, or the eye of Satan.
I began pacing frantically around my room, gasping for air as I tried to process the magnitude of my new awareness. My mind felt as if it were on the brink of shattering; I couldn't comprehend what was happening. The very foundation of my reality had shifted, leaving me teetering on the edge of my sanity.
Despite my racing thoughts and heart, I managed to steady myself using deep breathing techniques I had learned in the past from Wim Hof. My frantic pace gradually slowed, and I returned to my bed, trying to make sense of everything.
I deduced that the condition commonly known as schizophrenia might not be what people thought it was. Instead, it could be an individual's heightened sensitivity to the spirit world, a world most people never perceived.
As I lay in bed, still reeling from my panic, I suddenly saw a vision of Satan. He had red skin and horns, and spoke directly to me, expressing admiration for my deduction. Satan confirmed that what I thought was true: many people were speaking to demons, believing themselves to be schizophrenic. This deceptive world was, indeed, a harsh reality.
I tried to take in Satan's words, but a sensation of something being pulled out of me struck me. It felt as though my very soul was being drained from my body. My energy depleted rapidly, and I was overcome by a sense of impending doom. I lost control of my bodily functions, believing that I was moments away from death.
At the moment when I thought I was succumbing to death, I caught sight of an Easter lily I had bought earlier that day, sitting on my desk. The sight of the beautiful lily sparked a powerful desire to live within me. Fueled by a newfound will to survive coursing through me, I leaped out of my bed, and began pacing back and forth in my room once more, gasping for air.
As I walked, I experienced a series of visions featuring characters I admired and found inspiration from—Master Yoda from Star Wars, Aang from Avatar: The Last Airbender, and Neo from The Matrix. I realized that God had shown me these characters because they were a source of moral guidance and strength in my life.
My thoughts then turned to the physical pain I was experiencing. My awareness of the spirit world had heightened significantly, causing my brain to start heating up, and I felt a piercing pain and ballooning sensation near my right temple, which deeply concerned me.
Every time I had a thought, I could feel my brain stem wiggle and I would feel pain in my right temple, so I had to learn to still or quiet my mind. Recognizing that I needed to take action to cool my head and relieve the pain, with a sort of just knowing of what I had to do, I resolved to get a large bowl of ice water and head to the basement.
I quietly left my room so as not to wake my mother, who was sleeping in her room nearby, and ventured downstairs to the basement
At this point you could say I was "possessed" by spirits, Thoth, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit. I was able to rest my consciousness in my third eye, and the Holy Spirit, Thoth, or Jesus could help me and take move my body to keep me alive. There was no way for me to survive without help.
The holy spirit showed me a specific breathing technique to diffuse the energy in my brain by inhaling through my mouth deeply, and then exhaling through my nose in the water. The vibration of exhaling through my nose into the water would cause my brain to feel soothed for a little while, likely stimulating my vagus nerve too, and I believe it was doing something with the fluid in my brain. When I was able to not be at the water, I had to keep pressure on the center of my forehead to rest in my third eye so they could help me.
I remember pacing between the two sections of my basement, and Thoth was helping me breathe just to stay conscious. One half of the basement was bright with light with concrete floors, which is where the bowl of water was, the washer and drier, a sink, and four litter boxes. On the other side of the basement was dark with a carpeted floor and a wood fireplace. The basement's light was painted in the duality of light and dark.
I remained in the basement until the sun rose, soaking my head in icewater, and pacing back and forth between the dark and light rooms because i would become overly sensitive to one particular room, and I was just trying to breathe to stay conscious. I was battling the spirit of fear the entire night. The fear from my initial awakening and the fear of death over and over again, hundreds if not thousands of times.
I soaked my head in the ice water all night, getting momentary breaks from the water, and certain I was going to die hundreds of times from a brain hemorrhage, I stood on the hard pavement for hours, I remember Jesus was my legs at one point, I could feel him focusing through me to keep me standing. I continuously soaked my head in the ice water to combat the piercing pain and ballooning sensation in my right temple. Throughout the night, I heard voices speaking to me—some belonging to what I would call demons and others to angels.
The demons tried to instill fear in me, convincing me I was going to die. While the angels offered comfort and reassurance, telling me I would be okay. Despite the torment I endured, I found profound inner strength and refused to give up. I remember squeezing my Celtic cross necklace so hard during this time.
The sun rose on the second day, I had been awake all night, I was beyond exhausted. I don't remember all of the specifics of this time, my awakening was very traumatic, but several hours passed and I remember being told that I needed to grab a book and go outside down the street and sit by a tree. I refused, and Satan said, "Do you want to die?" I said "No," and grabbed a book and went outside and walked down the street to a tree and sat with my back leaned against it.
I read my book for about 10 minutes when two women carrying their babies in slings approached me, and asked me what I was reading. I told them the name of the book, Inner Engineering by Sadghuru, and they said that they were doing a prayer walk, and wanted to share the gospel message with me. I knew this was a divine appointment. This was meant to happen.
They shared the gospel message with me, and then offered to let me join their community of house churches, and gave me the number of one of their husbands so I could call and get connected with them.
I spent the rest of the day relaxing, but was unable to sleep and barely ate anything, and once the night fell, I was in the basement again, soaking my head in ice water. I would often get relief during the days when the sun was out, and then at night, it was a brutal spiritual battle all night in the basement where I was fighting for my life.
On the second day, I was in the kitchen, and I had the right side of my head in the ice water, and was moving my head up to breathe in through my mouth, and then I would tilt my head back down and exhale my entire breath out through my nose. I didn't know what I was doing, I was just listening to guidance from what I believe was the holy spirit.
After around 15-20 minutes of intense exhaling through my nose, a ton of white viscous liquid started coming out of my nose, and filling the bowl, it wasn't painful at all, it was a massive relief, and the excess fluid in my head was somehow being drained out. When the process was done, I remember I felt amazing, incredible actually, like my head was clear of all confusion, and I was so very much alive and conscious.
I went outside and was swinging a stick like a sword and having fun, and I think I got a little overzealous and jumped the fence behind my house, and started going on an adventure. After around 3-5 minutes though, the fluid started building back up, and I had to soak my head in a puddle to keep my brain cool. When I returned home, I went back to the water to soak my head. I still hadn't slept.
That night was brutal, and I was suffering badly, and I remember I was sitting on the dark side of the basement, but I had turned on the lamp. I was sitting on pillows, and I had just been soaking my head in the water. Satan then told me that in order to save the world, I would have to die by popping my third eye. I don't know why I believed him, I didn't have discernment at the time, and I was just following whatever guidance was coming my way, but I know that I had to do that to find my true strength.
I sat for a moment and contemplated. I grabbed a wooden walking stick that was nearby, and I moved it to my forehead, and pushed it into the center of my head as hard as I could until my arms literally gave out. I thought of my mom and sister, and I wanted the world to be free from suffering, but I wasn't meant to die that day. I cried very hard, and I learned that the human skull is very strong. I got up and went back to the ice water, and my forehead was numb.
Eventually, after three days and nights of this suffering, following the path God laid out before me, I reached my complete breaking point. I declared to the spirits that I had had enough. I was done soaking my head in ice water and I slowly and bravely removed my head from the bowl of water.
I was shivering so badly. These weren't just cold shivers, these were spiritual shivers, they shake you to your very core. I felt awful. Those who have been delivered will know what I am speaking about when I saw spiritual shivers. I spread out pillows on the floor, and lay down to rest. As I settled in, I pulled the blanket over me, and I remember I felt the comforting presence of Jesus, he was tucking me in.
I slept for just a few hours and awoke up early on Saturday morning. I remember my head hurt and it felt like the left side of my head was full of fluid. I grabbed the bowl of ice water, and this time, however, I decided to sit outside. The pain in my head was still excruciating, and I thought I might die.
My mother saw me outside, and concerned about my well-being, approached me to check if I was okay. I told her to call the ambulance because I needed help, and she quickly complied. When the paramedics arrived, they took me to the hospital, where I hoped I would receive the medical care I desperately needed, but that wasn't what was in store for me.
I got to the hospital, and the medical establishment, unfortunately, has no empathy or concern for people's mental sufferings. I asked them for water to drink because I was so dehydrated, and they wouldn't give me water.
Then, I got admitted to the hospital, and they finally gave me some juice and a snack, and I was starting to relax, but then a voice came into my head, it was Satan, and he made me think I needed to soak my head in the icewater again and expel the white viscous fluid again, so I started panicking a bit and had them bring me a bowl of ice water, and I began soaking my head.
They had probably never seen anything like what I was doing, and thought I was just crazy, because they basically came after me and tied me to the bed, and forcefully injected me with something to make me calm down or sleep, and then they didn't talk to me at all anymore throughout the night.
I am claustrophobic, so being tied down was absolute torture for me. They left me in the dark hospital room suffering all night, tied to the bed, thinking I was going to die the entire night, and then finally the sun rose on the horizon, and when the nurse came in to draw my blood in the morning, I asked them to request security to release me from the restraints. They have no empathy for people. Something is deeply wrong with the medical system.
Anyways, they finally sent me to an in-patient mental health clinic which is honestly just a warehouse for people to take meds, sleep, and eat, away from society. It was honestly a welcome respite, but there's no therapy available at these places. Which means no real internal healing is taking place for people suffering.
Once I got to the in-patient mental health clinic, I spent the first day mostly just relaxing, but there was a man there that was definitely possessed by a demon. He would be shouting a bunch of biblical verses about the kingdom of God, and a lot more, and then he would be on the floor the next, flailing around, being tortured by a demon. One of the other patients there told me he is being tortured by something, and I see what she means now.
I spent the rest of my time there recovering the best I could, and just taking the meds to calm down, and try to get some sleep, and spent time listening to people's stories. One of the girls there told me that the wound on my forehead from when I pushed the wooden staff into my forehead, looked like a cross, and she was right.
When I got out of the in-patient mental health clinic, I called the number that I had received during my three days and nights dark night of the soul.
I joined their community of house churches, and was studying the Bible with them for several months and meeting with them frequently, and I thought I had found my forever friends. We would go on prayer walks, and I was eventually baptized at a lake, and thought that I had a new life of faith waiting for me with new friends.
They were concerned about my well-being and cared about me, but a small part of me felt like I was being controlled by them too, like they wanted me to conform to all of their beliefs and everything in the Bible as fact, and the word of God, and I have always been very sensitive to manipulation since I was a child, and I could tell they were manipulating me. They never left room for me to be myself, and share my beliefs without condemnation, which is a major red flag.
Recognizing this, I distanced myself from them, and went on my own spiritual journey where I spent months conversing with the spirit world in my backyard. walking in circles. I spoke to God and Satan/Lucifer and was trying to come to understanding why Satan would reject God's will.
After some time, I realized I was just being tortured, and I needed help. I was suffering from a lot, and I needed deliverance. Satan had taken up a seat in my mind because I let him, and I had demons hurting me. I reached out to the Christian group again after several months of being distant from them, and they said there was an opportunity to move in with some Christian brothers and live with them, so I jumped on the opportunity. I was so excited. I was on fire for God.
I got to the house, and moved my stuff in, and then the night fell on the first night, and the enemy was not having it. The demons and Satan were not having it. They did NOT want me living with my brothers in Christ because they knew I was detached from all the boxes of thought control, and I was living in the spirit, wasn't a slave of mind or spirit. They wanted to destroy our relationship, between us, the brothers of Christ, and they did.
I don't remember the exact sequence of events, but I was entirely in the spirit at the time, I was detached from my body in a way, and just following the path laid out before me. I could feel that I needed to go outside and walk the neighborhood as a part of my spiritual path, so I left the house, and walked barefoot throughout the neighborhood.
While walking the neighborhood, I was in full spirit mode, I was communicating with God and Jesus, and they were guiding me on my path. I saw visions of them sitting beside a tree and trimming off rotten fruit, which I think was symbolic of them removing rotten fruit from my mind. I also saw them sweeping out a room and cleaning it, as if symbolic of my mind, and them cleaning my mind and purifying it. I also remember seeing a symbolic vision of myself holding up a golden gemstone encrusted goblet to God.
During that night, I declared war on the principalities of darkness. Against the forces of darkness. I saw skulls in the clouds, and could tell they were communicating with me as they are spirits of the air.
My feet were bloodied from walking around the neighborhood barefoot, I was completely lost all night, I was new to the neighborhood too, and had no idea where I was, so I wandered for hours throughout the night, so hungry, tired, and thirsty, and just physically and mentally exhausted, but I endured. That night made me realize how strong I really am when I let go of everything and trust in God. When I completely become the spirit instead of the body. The human body is incredible and capable of withstanding far more than we know.
Finally, I found my way to the house, and my footsteps were spilling blood on the front porch. The door was locked, and I knocked, and one of the brothers let me in, and I went to my bedroom. I couldn't sleep at all, my mind was very active, it was very similar to when I had my spiritual awakening, I was just unable to sleep because of how active my mind was. I spent the whole night awake.
The next day, I was suffering horrible spiritual attack, my head was in pain and I was holding my head just to feel comfortable, and one of the brothers called a friend of theirs to come and do a deliverance. I remember them being very bold, but gentle... firm, but kind to me, as they expelled some of the demons through prayer. It wasn't a painful deliverance or too exhausting, it was gentle by comparison. I felt much better after the deliverance, hungry and thirsty again, and wanted to nourish my body. I spent the rest of the day relaxing a bit, and listening to the other believers talk about the Bible, and their beliefs.
That night, I was delivered again, and it was awful. My brothers in Christ shouldn't have done the deliverance, but I don't know if I even would have made the rest of the night it if they didn't. I think the holy spirit guided them to do the deliverance, but it went out of control.
I was in my room, suffering deeply, holding my head, and all three brothers who lived there came up to my room to check on me, and pray for me. Their prayers turned into a full blown deliverance, and demons were screaming out of me for around half an hour straight. They were casting them out in the name of Jesus, but it was awful, it's one of my most traumatic memories. I was suffering so badly, and honestly I could tell the demons were suffering so badly, and my brothers in Christ had zero empathy for me.
After speaking with demons, the brothers wanted to speak with me again, so I came to, I asked them for water, and they denied me, and they just continued the deliverance without giving me a break. I had been suffering for around 45 minutes straight, with demons screaming out of me, and I was beyond exhausted, I was so dehydrated, and I just needed to stop. They didn't care, they kept going.
They kept shouting at these demons in the name of Jesus to leave, and eventually after another ten minutes, I realized, nothing was happening, we weren't getting anywhere, the demons weren't coming out, and they asked to speak with me again, and I came to the forefront and regained control, and tried talking to them, but they were gone. The demons had got into them somehow, and they were filled with hatred and revulsion for me. They all had the same facial expression of hatred and revulsion for me.
I went around the room and pleaded with them that it was me, but they didn't believe me, they were gone, checked out, I tried bringing up memories of what had happened between us that were specific to each person to bring them to understanding that it was me, and in fact not a demon speaking, but they thought I was a demon speaking.
They all grabbed ahold of me, and pinned me down on the bed, but I knew where this was going, the demons in them were going to flood me with fear and fill me with demons again, and I wasn't going to have that, I wasn't going to let them win.
I flailed out of their grasp, told them to get off me, and ran down the stairs and out of the house. I remember as I was running out, Satan told me, "You are the most free person on the planet."
I ran outside, and even the weight of my clothes felt like too much, I was panicking from the trauma of the deliverance and the attack from my brothers, and I stripped off all my clothes and ran down the alley way in the middle of the night and got away from the house.
There were no light, and no one around, and no one followed me, so I just ran down the alley way, and found an abandoned car to sit on for a few minutes until I got a message from God that it was time to go grab my clothes and put my clothes on.
I put my clothes back on, and started walking away from the house because I needed to get some air. That is when one of the other brother's in Christ, the one that I had called initially to join their community of house churches, was there. I think he was guided by the holy spirit to show up there that night.
Anyways, we walked back to the house, and when we got there, there was a cop car and an ambulance there. I guess the brothers had called for a wellness check on me. They wanted to bring me to the hospital to have me evaluated. I protested, but just wanted them to leave me alone, I went with them, and went to the hospital.
Much to no one's surprise, they did nothing for me at the hospital. They just put me in a room where I waited around for 6-8 hours, until I was finally released. I didn't go back to the brother's house though. When they offered me an uber, I went back to my mom's house. I wasn't going to live with them anymore after what they did to me...
A couple weeks passed and two of the brothers who did the deliverance called me, and wanted to schedule a time to meet up so they could minister to me. They came over to my house, and basically told me that I was still demon possessed, and made me feel like there was something wrong with me, and then when I confronted them and asked them if they had a problem with me, they lied to my face, and said that they didn't have a problem with me.
About a month passed and the last brother that was a part of deliverance contacted me and invited me to go to church with him. I told him how that experience made me feel, how I was claustrophobic from childhood trauma and that being pinned down by everyone was horribly traumatic, and he said, "Do you feel better now?" in a sarcastic tone. He completely dismissed how I felt, that hurt me badly.
I went to church with him once, but never went with him again, I also never reconnected with any of the other brothers, and then my life started to become very spiritual. God had a path of understanding laid out before me that most people will not tread.
I began to try to become friends with demons and minister to them and try to turn them to Christ. I had a lot of visions during this time, and I cried a lot. I would walk around my neighborhood and see visions of demons sitting on top of the apartment buildings.
When I would go home, I would have visions of demons in my basement, and would have to drive them out in the name of Jesus. I would speak to them too, and wait and listen for them to telepathically communicate with me.
I remember I was suffering badly though, and I needed to go to in-patient mental health again for help. I needed the meds and a place where I could rest and relax.
During my time there, I was communicating with a spirit named Jezebel, and during that time I was suffering very badly. I won't get into all of the details, but I was becoming friends with her, and we shared a deep laugh about something that I cannot remember anymore, but I remember the laugh. It felt so good to laugh after suffering so badly.
During my time while I was there I was seeing visions of my own death. I was seeing people suffering from demonic attack and spirits of confusion. They couldn't remember who they were, or who other people were.
I prayed for a woman to be delivered that night in her sleep, and the next day she was bright and fresh and happy, and doing so much better. God performed a miracle on her, and saved her. She was a normal person again after entering the hospital in a complete state of confusion. It was miraculous. I was honestly jealous, because I was suffering so badly, and she was delivered overnight in her sleep in a relaxed way, while my time had been so intense.
While I was there though, I was under heavy attack, but I pulled through, God pulled me through too, but when I got home, the journey wasn't over though. I was in a spiritual state for a while, and was seeing visions. I could rest in my third eye, and see the spirit world. It was exhausting, I saw a lot of demons, and had to drive them out in the name of Jesus.
Then one night, I was downstairs, and I was with Satan, Lilith, and a spirit calling itself Baal. I remember Baal was sitting in the middle in front of the fireplace, and Satan was to my left, and Lilith was to my right.
I don't remember what we spoke about, I just spent time with them, and I drank a beer with them, the air was heavy with demonic energy, and then I remember Lilith went over to Satan and kneeled before him, and grabbed him by the hand tenderly and asked him to turn away from his evil ways.
Satan neither accepted nor refused, and then I remember maybe 5 minutes passed and I was doing a full-blown deliverance on Lilith. I was praying for her, and I could see visions of her on the ground flailing around, it was awful, and I hope she is okay.
I don't know how long after that passed, but I was delivered many times during this phase. I was around demons a lot and they would get into me, and I would have to expel them out through vomiting, and it was excruciating.
Several months passed after that where I was okay, I spent months just relaxing and recovering, playing video games, smoking weed, and just relaxing. It was nice, but it wasn't the end of my journey.
My next journey was against Thoth. While he was a great help at the beginning of my spiritual awakening, he is not a perfect being like God, and he tried to overtake me. It's really hard to explain what he did, but he was viciously attacking me spiritually, and I sought help to go to the in-patient mental health clinic again. That was where I went when things got too spiritually charged. I had Medicaid, so I was able to go as needed.
They didn't send me to in-patient this time though, they sent me to a crisis pivot center, which is basically a residential house that is being used to treat people suffering from mental illness, where you can receive meds and sleep in a sort of half-way house between in-patient mental health and being back in the world at home.
Anyways, I was suffering grotesquely from Thoth, he is a VERY powerful entity, perhaps one of the strongest I have faced, and has been more cruel to me than even Satan, and I remember having a conversation with one of the people working there about how I had asked a false God at the beginning of my spiritual awakening for help to fix my life, and how that had caused a bunch of problems.
Eventually, I realized I was not receiving the care that I needed while at the crisis center, so I had them transfer me to hospital. All I wanted to do was sleep. I had been awake for days, and I just wanted sleep, so I was looking for Ambien when I went to the hospital, and that's what I got.
I remember they had admitted me to the emergency, but it was so full that every room was full, so they had me in the hallway, and I was just exhausted, and in a very tired state, but my third eye was opened, and I could sense spirits around me, and Satan, Lilith, and Jezebel were there for me that night.
They were hovering over my bed, and speaking to me telepathically, and asking me if I was okay, they were genuinely concerned for me, and wanted to know if I was okay. It was kind of shocking to be honest. These entities are not known for being nice in any way, but they were there for me that night, and God let them be there for me that night, instead of Jesus or someone else, which i find interesting.
This moment and seeing Lilith kneel before Satan made me realize that entities that we think are pure evil, are more dynamic than just evil. They may have evil in them, or have the ability to evil actions, but they can also be good and support others, like they did with me when I was in such an exhausted and vulnerable state after being delivered from Thoth.
I made it back home, and some time passed and I was in a very spiritual moment. My third eye was very awakened. It seems to happen in cycles. That night was a blizzard, and the air was heavy with demonic energy. This time it was the demiurge.
I remember I had dozens if not hundreds of demons in my room, and they were swirling above my bed, and I kept trying to lay down because I was so exhausted, and I kept being told to not lay down because I would squish a spirit, so I chose to not lay down.
I was whistling the avatar theme for the spirits to uplift them and make them feel better, and during this time I was being possessed by spirits. The room was heavy with spiritual energy.
So much happened that I don't want to get into, but it all lead to me being outside in the blizzard, in the snow storm, naked, and laying down in the snow. I had to be very cold for some reason while interacting with these demons, to keep them from overtaking me, and I remember I had to leave my house behind entirely.
My mom came outside before I left the house and I could feel demonic energy, evil spirits, all around her. There was a presence of wrath around her, and she was angry with me, because I had flooded the bathroom of the house while trying to get cold in the shower.
I left the house, there was a foot of snow on the ground, and I was naked and wandering down the street. I would check in with what I thought was God every once in a while to figure out what was happening with the demons in my bedroom.
For some reason when I would have a thought it would affect them in my room. That's really complicated to get into, and I don't understand it, but regardless, I wandered down the street and around the corner, and that is when the police got me.
They handcuffed me, and put me in the back of the police cruiser, and I remember telling God that the Matrix has me. The police called an ambulance, and they came to get me, I remember they transferred me to the ambulance, and they covered me with blankets, but I didn't want to be warm, I didn't have any control over this situation.
My body started to shut down, and I was struggling to even breathe, and that's when the demiurge appeared. They started speaking to me, and controlling my body to keep me breathing, and that's when I submitted to them, thinking that I was on my own, and God had abandoned me. I told them to fill me with demons, and that I would become a demon lord.
As I would breathe, I could feel demons entering me, spirits. When I got to the hospital, I was possessed by a lot of spirits, and my body was in agony. It's very hard to explain what it feels like, but just imagine discordant energy in your body that makes you feel awful, and physically hurts.
I struggled the entire night, and was in absolute agony. After 6-8 hours I was recovered and feeling better, they had admitted me to the hospital at this time, so I was able to rest in a room and eat plenty of food and recover.
My experience with the demiurge was really traumatic though, but that wasn't the end of my experiences with him.
... to be continued...

DC Next presents:

I AM BATMAN

In True Crime
Issue Sixteen: Dark Hair And Face Paint
Written by ClaraEclair
Edited by PredaPlant & DeadIslandMan1
 
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Gotham University’s winter term was coming to an end, and that meant the resident varsity football team was finishing out their season — on home turf, no less. The Nighthawks were on a winning streak and were looking to finish off the season with a championship. The entire team felt the energy coursing through them as the stadium filled and crowd chants grew.
There were always major league scouts within the crowds at these types of games, especially for teams as impressive as the Nighthawks had been. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that some of the players on the varsity team would be making it to the national league. The coach, as hard as he could be on his team, felt nothing but warm pride in his heart and mind.
Zack Howard, the captain of the Nighthawks, looked over the 120 yard field from the player entrance, listening to the roaring crowd chanting for the Nighthawks — even fans of the Princeton Tigers felt the pull toward cheering on the Gotham University team. Just as much as his coach, he felt pride in being able to carry his team this far. He hoped to give the best game he’d ever played, to be noticed by big league coaches and scouts.
“Zack!” He heard his coach shout from behind him, no doubt trying to shift his attention back to the locker room and preparations for the game ahead. Zack exhaled deeply and turned around to see Coach Fremlin approaching with a light jog, holding something in his hand. “Delivery for ya,” he said, handing the envelope to the captain. “Some girl said to give it to you, said there’s somethin’ special inside.” With a smirk, Fremlin clapped Zack’s shoulder before turning back toward the locker room.
Zack’s mind flooded with possibilities and fantasies about what could’ve been in the envelope. Something special could have been anything, and it excited him as he ripped it open. His expression quickly shifted, however, as he pulled a handwritten note out of the envelope, scribbled in nearly illegible handwriting.
”Zack Howard,” it read. He opened it, his brow furrowed, and watched as an instant print photograph fell out of the fold and onto the ground. One piece of clear tape had been shoddily applied to the corner and had clearly lost its adhesion. Leaning down, Zack picked up the photo and squinted, trying to make out the subject.
It took a few moments, but the longer he stared at the photo, the more it dawned on him what was depicted in it. Instantly, upon realising what he saw, he rushed back to the locker room and forced himself through his teammates to Coach Fremlin, who was dragging out his playbook. He grabbed the coach by the shoulder, twisted him around to face him directly, and planted the photo firmly on his chest.
“What the fuck is this?” he demanded. Confused, Fremlin chuckled nervously as he tried to grasp the small photo on his chest, not able to see the subject but only the fury in Zack’s face. The room fell totally silent as the entire team watched the coach and their captain with bated breaths.
“What do you mean?” asked Fremlin, turning the image over and squinting at it, trying to make out the details. Just as fast as Zack had initially made out the details, Fremlin’s face dropped at the realisation. “Holy God, Zack, I–”
“What the hell is this?!” Zack demanded once more, resisting the urge to grab his coach by the collar and push him against the wall. “Who gave this to you?”
“I– I don’t know, it was some girl,” Fremlin stuttered, fumbling over himself. “She was short, had black hair, face paint…”
“What’s it say on the back?” asked Tim Teslow, the team’s best running back, pointing toward the image and the messy scrawls on the back of it. Zack snapped it back out of Fremlin’s hands as the coach sat down, head in his hands.
“Section 204, Row 8, seat 9,” Zack read the note aloud. “I’m going to go see what this is,” he said through clenched teeth.
“Dude, that’s across the stadium,” said Cutter Karznowski, the wide receiver that had only joined at the start of the season. “The game’s starting in a few minutes.”
“I don’t care,” Zack snapped back. “I’m going.”
 
 
Good evening, Gothamites, I hope you enjoyed that last one — Barcode by Self-Sacrificial. It’s always been a personal favourite of mine, straight to the point with the best beats and deepest riffs.
In the same spirit, I’ll get straight to the point of why today’s a big day for me — you’ve all known this was coming but I never quite said what it was. When I started this show a little over a year ago, I wanted to look at the dirt of the world. I wanted to bring you my favourite music while trying to figure out my favourite events in this city.
I’ve talked about all the legends, I’ve talked about Joker, Mister Freeze, and so many others. I’ve talked about new shooters like Man-Bat and Professor Pyg. I’ve even, unfortunately, shed some light on the unoriginal copycat hacks that have started popping up in recent years. It’s all been out of love, though. Love for the mind of those who would commit these atrocities, appreciation for what they are and what they represent.
There’s a reason why they are what they are, and it’s always been a goal of mine to love and appreciate what they put into the world. It’s all about the chaos.
But, today, I won’t be talking about that. Today, I’ll be talking about football. Before you all start booing me, it’s my special day and it’s my show, so I get final say. Specifically, it’s the big championship game for the Gotham University Nighthawks. I went to school with these guys, I feel… an obligation.
I’m excited to see how the game will turn out. I get the nagging feeling that their winning streak might come to an end.
 
 
Section 204 in the Gotham Knights stadium, on the north side of Tricorner Island, the southernmost landmass of Gotham, was filled to the brim with spectators and fans. All were cheering as they waited and watched the Gotham University Nighthawks enter the field below, while Zack spent his time searching the section for a small woman with black hair and face paint.
Despite the difficulty of sifting through the crowded seats, he couldn’t find a woman matching that description. He looked back down at the photograph’s note and read it again, making sure he was in the right spot. The location remained the same: Section 204, row 8, seat 9.
People called out his name, but he was quick to shrug them off. He was too focused on finding the woman who’d sent him the photograph. Even asking those who’d been sitting within section 204 had proved fruitless, with no one being able to say anything about the described woman.
Angry and dejected, Zack turned back toward the steps between sections to head back down to the field when something caught his eye as he moved.
“Sir!” He called out, angling his head toward a man two rows above him, pointing beneath his seat. “Sir, what’s that under your seat?” There was some sort of flashing light taped to the bottom of the seat, slowly pulsing between purple and green.
The man looked confused, leaning forward to take a look at what Zack had pointed at, eyes widening the moment he saw the wiring that he sat atop. A complex series of wires and lights traced their way around each seat in the section, though neither he nor Zack could see what, exactly, the wires were attached to.
“I don’t–”
The man could only shout out those few words before a loud explosion rocked the stadium, blasts running down the portion of the stadium from rows 12 to 4. Dozens of seats were annihilated as smoke, fire, and green gas erupted. Cries of pain and fear replaced the cheers of the spectators.
Blood tainted the intact seats while the smoke rose into the air, infiltrating the sky of southern Gotham, visible from all along the city’s coast. What fell across the stadium, permeating nearly every seat on the west side of the stadium, making its way into the halls that traced the inner workings of the building, was a thick green gas, forcing its way into the lungs of the men and women who were running for their lives, trampling each other.
Those closest to the explosion felt intense convulsions in their abdomens and spasms in their faces, involuntarily forced to bear wicked grins while their shattering breaths overtook the screams of terror in the form of wicked laughter.
Amidst the chaos, the charred photo that Zack once held fell slowly and gracefully, slightly charred, ignorant of the horror that it had been subject to. Slightly charred, it landed a few sections away from the explosions, trampled upon by infected spectators who had no idea what was being done to them.
 
 
A Few Minutes Earlier…
James Gordon’s office at the Gotham City Police Department headquarters was quiet as he sat at his desk, resting his elbows on its surface with his hands clasped, opposite Astrid Arkham, the frail-seeming daughter of Jeremiah Arkham. She had requested a meeting with him, and he had assumed it was for an update into Batman’s investigation into her father.
“Gotham City needs something new,” she began, catching him by surprise. His eyes widened slightly, then his brow furrowed. “We’ve been in this… this state of insanity for decades now, and it is only getting worse. This city is no longer livable, Commissioner.” He resisted the urge to groan. The only difference in Gotham City as it was and the Gotham City of before was that the murders had become spectacle.
When supervillains pushed out mobsters and gangsters, there was a shift in crime, but the results remained the same. Salvatore Maroni and Carmine Falcone knew how to keep their business quiet to the public unless they were in active war. Those were the good old days, now.
“Insane, maniacal supervillains,” she continued. “They rule the streets whenever they so choose. The police cannot deal with them, not under you. You rely on the Batman,” there was venom in her voice as she spoke the name, “and she sweeps up the problems while bringing deranged cultists and assassins into this city. She’s the heir of a small personal army with untold technology and she runs free. The Joker Riots, the assassin siege, Simon Hurt, all because the Batman has infested this town with these misguided thoughts of the supernatural, supposedly haunting our city.” Gordon remained silent.
“Essen’s incentives are now failing,” she said, watching Gordon closely for a reaction. If he gave one, she couldn’t see it. “How many companies that were enticed by her incentives have moved headquarters out of Gotham? They pay nothing in taxes, they have Essen licking their boots, and it’s still not enough. Despite all that’s happened, we haven’t been through hell yet, Commissioner. We’ve only arrived at the gates.”
“If I may, Miss Arkham,” said Gordon, leaning back in his chair, scanning the young woman up and down. “What’s your point?” He understood what she was saying, and he feared she was right, but he didn’t like the conclusion she was bringing forth.
“You are antiquated, Commissioner,” she replied, her face straight. “Obsolete. Your methods don’t work anymore, the law you uphold is no longer effective. Besides that, you are getting old. I can see the fatigue in your face, the bags under your eyes, your paleness. You’re not the detective you used to be.” Astrid leaned forward in her seat, putting her weight on her cane. “Gotham needs something new.”
Gordon’s phone rang, and for a brief moment he was thankful for the reprieve — but only for a moment.
 
 
I’d say I feel bad for the people at the Nighthawks game, but, if I’m totally honest, they had it coming. It’s about time everything caught up to them.
While we all ruminate on what’s happening at the game right now, let’s listen to some good music. This is Confetti by Viscera.
 
 
Batman had listened to as many notes as she could about a green gas that made anyone who inhaled it laugh uncontrollably. It typically led to suffocation through the inability to control the diaphragm, but this time it didn’t, and it confused the Dark Knight. A familiar sight, an attack that resulted in eery laughter, and yet it wasn’t what the city had seen before. None of the victims that hadn’t been in the initial blast had died, though medical care for each of them was necessary.
As much as she cursed herself for being late, not able to save anyone as the events unfolded, she knew that she needed to take control as fast as possible. She, along with every person in the city, dreaded what this attack meant. The name of a particular clown lingered on everyone’s tongues, though no one dared invoke his name.
Batman wasn’t so sure, and she hoped that her gut feeling was right. Most of the bodies that were recoverable had been extracted from the blast zone, over a dozen dead and dozens more injured. Blood and soot equally covered the destroyed seats, and even more on the concrete below.
One thing caught Batman’s eye amidst the mess, two sections away from the initial blast. A small instant print photograph, half burnt, laid on the ground, covered in dirty boot prints. She picked it up and looked it over, squinting as she studied the subject.
It was a blonde woman, head down with wet hair covering her face. Almost lost in the details was a small trail of blood behind the hair, mixing with trailing makeup. Batman frowned as she flipped the image over, seeing the note for a specific seat in the section of the stadium that had been blown to bits.
She approached the seat and kneeled, ducking down to see under the seat. It was one of few that remained intact after the explosions. Zack Howard’s Final Stop was scratched into the bottom of the seat, and at the sight of it, Batman signalled to Oracle to scan the engraving. She couldn’t identify the woman in the photograph, but she could see clearly enough that the attack was targeted at a specific person.
Another killer, she thought to herself, fearing what it could mean for the city. Pyg almost tore the richest members of the city’s economy apart, and they were ready to throw their own to the wolves. Now, there’d been a deadly gas attack at a football game — one that had been sponsored by many of Gotham’s elite.
The idea that the Clown Prince of Crime had returned was already making its way through the city — Batman knew she would have to exert control over everything she could to keep it from tearing itself apart at the seams. She was more than prepared to do so.
“It doesn’t look good,” she said to Oracle.
“Yeah,” she said, her voice distant. “I hope it’s just another copycat, they’re much easier to deal with.”
“I don’t know,” Batman replied, looking back at the photograph. “Something’s different.”

I’m a black woman, and I wonder about this. I’ve always been in an area that has a low black population, and will note that I do think, based upon observation, that a black woman who lives in an area with a low black population is likely to be more open to dating white men than a black woman who lives in an area with a high black population will be.
But even with that being said, as someone who lives in an area that doesn’t have a terribly high black population, it is rare for me to see black men dating and married to black women here. When I was in high school, black boys seeking out white girls was a “thing.” I receive a lot more attention when I walk around in an area that has a higher black population than I do in my city. I’ve met black women who grew up here that still have a preference for black men. As I’ve grown older, I’ve realized I have a preference for black men even though I haven’t moved. But I can’t say I’ve met many black men who grew up in the same area who prefer black women.
So why is that? I understand that environment growing up and what you see in the media are factors. But as a black woman, I’m wondering myself - why am I not very attracted to white men anymore, like I was for a time in middle school? I had a huge crush on David Bowie in middle school, and remember thinking that Sam (John Francis Daley) from freaks and geeks was cute.
In 9th grade I had my longest strongest crush on a 1/2 black 1/2 white boy, though by 11th grade I disliked him. In 11th grade I dated an average (in my opinion, there have been people who felt he was slightly below average but racism was likely factoring in, he was overweight) looking black boy. I resent both of those people now.
I’m an ISFJ 6w5.
I would ideally prefer to date a black man who is at a healthy weight. I am probably the least attracted overall to Asian men, though I don’t know why. I am attracted to some Mexican/Latino men, but have only felt attraction to above average looking ones and very occasionally to average looking ones (occasionally.)
I have an older brother, and am from a low income family. I actually don’t like my father at all.
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This batch from Tokyo Jon's is another aggravating, "Then why did you put up with this?" venture.

British Education Korea (BEK) Apr 16. 2024

...unprofessional and incompetent staff, unqualified bilingual teachers and toxic atmosphere. Worst experience of my life. Waste of time and energy. Extremely low pay and imposed additional (unpaid) roles.

--That's really the key elements that never seem to go away:

1. Unprofessional.
2. Unorganized.
3. Incompetent.
4. Catty, petty, gossipy, abusive.

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JESSICA ENGLISH - ILSAN Apr 16. 2024

Last year they fired 6 people and claimed financial reasons. On top of this they continued to hire foreign workers from overseas despite claiming financial troubles. Because management was so poor the place is leaking students and so the ones that stay get away with anything.

--The first mistake is to trust anything that comes out of their mouths. If they tell me it's raining, I head for a window, open it, stick my hand out before I believe anything from these buffoons and their constant lies, misdirection, and propaganda. Find 5 things that you already know the answers to and that anyone in management / education ought to know, ask in a meeting, see what they say. It's fun, they know nothing about anything.
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iGarten Seocho Banpo Apr 23. 2024

From the moment I signed with this school, warning signs were glaringly evident, but I was optimistic and brushed them off. However, in hindsight, those warning signals were clear indicators of what was to come. 2. Lack of leadership. 3. Lack of Communication breakdowns 4. Incoherent curriculum 7. Dishonesty and manipulation

--Yup! That sounds like a Hagwon alright.

2. Lack of Leadership ...with those in charge either physically absent or lacking the awareness needed to foster accountability, communication, and organization.
Many times, Korean teachers are found either sitting in a corner of the room on their phones, taking selfies, or shopping, or they're outside the classroom engaging in gossip with the front desk or lunch staff.

--This happens everywhere. The laziness is profound. Search bar: Hagwon Life:The Day They Refused to Pay Me. Floor manager playing games on computer, university students paying on their phones in the break room instead of working, and everything else wrong, broken, incomplete, wrong levels, bratty / undisciplined children, no one cares. Let the foreigners pull their hair out and deal with all the issues, the rest will sit back and do like the prisoners say, "Get over, get by." The answer is, follow them right out the door no matter what the reason is, stay with them until they come back. They leave, you leave.

3. Lack of communication (School Events) Even when management does inform us of an event, it's usually with minimal notice, often just a week or two in advance... (Science Fair) It's frustrating that management only takes action when faced with the threat of embarrassment, leaving teachers to pick up the slack with little support or guidance. (Report cards) The lack of communication extends to the crucial task of writing end-of-year report card comments. Shockingly, this important information was only relayed in the last week of school, not by management, but through hearsay from a veteran teacher. This last-minute notification left teachers with minimal time to prepare thoughtful and personalized comments for each student.

--The answer is, THEN DON'T DO IT! Why do the foreigners care more than the people who own the place? All you are teaching them when you put in double-overtime, scramble around like crazy, frantically quick-time it to get things done, don't get enough sleep or proper exercise/nutrition, do it for free at home, is that they learn to expect it from you again and again without consequences. They are as bad at education than anyone you will ever encounter on the planet. They have no idea about anything, ESPECIALLY how long it takes to plan and put together a good result. You can ask any one of them, "How long do you THINK it takes to add a worksheet or construct a lesson plan from scratch? And when do you think I will have time to finish it?" As the OP said, they don't do anything until there is a threat of embarrassment. Well then? Embarrass them and keep giving them the same talking points right from the beginning, "I don't have enough time, I don't work at home for free, everyone ignored my request for resources etc." In many cases, they do this out of disrespect to the foreigners, also they don't want to hear foreigners complain or adjust the instructions so they purposely try to run out the clock on them to keep them busy and quiet. A part of it is to see the foreigners stressed and fail. Yeah, really. They want it to fail. Give them what they want and let it collapse. Of course they blame it all on the foreigners, but just repeat your talking points and keep on repeating them. You get off topic, they'll keep jabbering in your face, you stay on topic they'll get frustrated and give up.....eventually.
iGarten Creverse, April, CDI, are all basically the Chungdahm umbrella, I don't know why anyone hasn't figured out not to work for any of these places.
Search bar: iGarten Seocho Branch DO NOT DO IT!iGarten Seocho Branch DO NOT DO IT!
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You wanted to be a teacher? Well then TEACH. Students and everyone else learn a lot from failure. You can talk / complain all day long--ears closed. As soon as there are consequences for failure, leaving the classroom with a room full of naughty children, deadlines are not reached, parents are put off by poor results, management is caught with their pants down--ears open.
Now, do you have the spine inside you to reject punishment? Are you going to reject it and walk out the door, fight back, keep on with your talking points? To SAVE FACE, management will undoubtedly:
a) have a meeting in which they emote all over you, blame you for everything.
b) demand you come to work early/stay late to get said work done, without pay of course.
c) demand you go home and come back with the work completed, without sleep or pay of course.
d) threaten to withhold salary until objective is completed?
e) stink-eyes, sneers, passive-aggressive pouty behavior?
You don't need to throw chairs and getting into a big donnybrook about it (thank you Thesaurus.com). Stick to your talking points, "I'm not doing that, you didn't give us proper notice, there is no time in the day to do it, you aren't paying us overtime or actually anything at all" etc etc.. and if you really need to "Cross the Rubicon" (Thank you Wikipedia), you may have to go full Willy Wonka on their ass:
Wrong, sir! Wrong! Under section 37B of the contract signed by him, it states quite clearly that all offers shall become null and void if - and you can read it for yourself in this photostatic copy:
I, the undersigned, shall forfeit all rights, privileges, and licenses herein and herein contained, et cetera, et cetera... Fax mentis incendium gloria cultum, et cetera, et cetera... Memo bis punitor delicatum!
It's all there, black and white, clear as crystal! You stole fizzy lifting drinks! You bumped into the ceiling which now has to be washed and sterilized, so you get nothing! You lose! Good day, sir!

I'm not just a white person, but a southern one. and I am so in board with Juneteeth in terms of what it celebrates. I believe it should be as big of a deal as memorial day. everyone should celebrate!
it's obvious why this holiday means so much to black people, and it should to everyone. but I mean it when I say it should be taken more seriously by everyone.
white people should be happy that black activists in the past got us where we are now (even though racism is unfortunately still rampant, it's a big step). we should also spend the day educating ourselves on our history, acknowledging it, and actively try to work past it. we should help struggling black communities in any way we can, and most importantly, BACK OFF and let other people have the spotlight for once.
all that said...
the name is dumb. I'm sorry. I don't fw the name, and googling it, it seems like the day Lincoln's emancipation proclamation is called "juneteenth" is just cuz it always has since slaves in Texas heard the good news.
wouldn't "emancipation day" or "liberation day" or "fuck plantation owners day" been better? the name "juneteenth" just sounds so... lame? underwhelming? it doesn't represent how important this day is, in my white opinion- (think of July 4th. "independence day" sounds like a big deal, has a punch to it.) i would love to hear from black redditors and their take on this name. I think it deserves better, but it also doesn't matter what I think.

I have been off of accutane for about a year and a half and I am pretty happy with the results. However, I’ve been struggling with these small white heads that pop out and I’ll always have a handful of them at a time. My routine is as follows. Morning: cerave 4% benzoyl peroxide Cerave moisturizing cream Cerave moisturizing sunscreen
Night: cerave 4% benzoyl peroxide Tretinoin 0.05 Cerave moisturizing cream
The white heads are typically on my cheeks between my eyebrows and temple area. I am consistent with changing sheets and pillow cases, I also have a fairly clean diet. Furthermore, I call them white heads but I’m not sure what they are they are like tiny little micro whiteheads and they normally just start off as just a small pink spot. Any advice on what could be changed shout my routine to help these go away.