—I hope it stays episodic but gets some slightly more interconnected plots, example being the Stacy-Perry duo. —I also hope Phineas and Ferb drive the story of the episodes of little bit more often. —Change Candace’s tune, and end her obsession with the busting. I feel like it’s the only stale part of the show at this point, and Candace Against The Universe is part of the driving force of the show’s return. — age them up to 11 or 12 or maybe 13 so Isabella can have a bat mitzvah episode —Buford and Baljeet becoming a couple. —retcon act your age

I've been traveling but now I'm BAAAACK!
Check out these indie perfumes I've got for sale (over 20 houses!) – loads of BPAL, Cocoapink, Kyse, MooScents and Solstice EDP decants, plus other wonderful houses! Shipping's a flat $5.50 for the US. If you are outside the US, I will need to quote shipping costs, Order minimum of $14. I will ship by Monday (5/20) and send tracking. Check out the spreadsheet for all the deets on fill levels, notes, and more. I've got some niche stuff too. Selling only for now (unless you have one of my ISOs)!
🌟Spreadsheet is right here: CHECK ME OUT! 🌟
ALL (Larger Sizes **)
Arcana Craves
· Cotton Candy **
· Garnet Grapefruit **
· Raspberry Whip **
· Strawberries Crave Summer
Arcana Wildcraft
· Afterglow **
· Dollface **
· Electra **
· Last Judgement **
· Mongolian Death Worm **
Astrid
· Abysmal Blush
· Acorns
· Obscura
· Pastel Black
BPAL
· A Doll's Doll **
· An Interlude after Sake (2017, Lupercalia) **
· Common Jezebel **
· Gingerbread Snek **
· Goldenrod Crab Spider (Halloweenie 2012) **
· Irish Coffee Buttercream **
· Red Rose, Black Pepper & Black Vegetal Musk **
· Schrodinger's Checkmark **
· Sugar Cookies & Bourbon **
· Vanilla Bean, Pistachio & Cacao **
· White Chocolate & Taro Cream **
· Western Diamondback **
· All night long
· Aunt Caroline's Joy Mojo
· Baobhan sith
· Brisingamen
· Darkness
· Deadly nightshade honey
· Depraved
· Dwarf
· Eat Me
· Elf
· Gingerbread Milk
· Hard Luck Lollipop
· Honeyed Pear Tart
· Mary shelley
· Oatmeal & Apple Spice Cookies
· Ouija
· Shanghai
· Shub-Niggurath
· The Antikythera Mechanism
· Twinkle, Twinkle Little Bat
Cirrus
· Parakeet
· It's just pears
· A Dog named Pam
· Maid Marian
Colornoise
· Jazz **
· Confidence **
CocoaPink (5mL EDP Decants)
· Cinderella's Carriage EDP**
· Fresh Strawberry EDP **
· Plums & Custard EDP **
· Boo Boo Lemon Noel EDP **
· Mad Hatter Cookies Noel EDP **
· Vanilla Bean Noel EDP **
· Pink Dragon EDP **
· Black Noel EDP **
· Violet Poundcake EDP **
· Faded memories
Crow & Pebble
· Bearer of Secrets
· Light That Endures
· Master of Bears
· Names Myriad
· Sea Wolf
Fae-tal Attractions
· Beedle
· Coquette
· Frog Princess
· GhOwOst
· Kunafa
· Luna Moth
Fyrinnae
· Alferous
Haus of Gloi
· Hex
Kyse (5mL EDP Decants)
· Cocco alla Vaniglia **
· Crema di Lime e Cognac **
· Delizia **
· Douceur Brulee **
· Frollino Lavanda **
· Jasmine Macarons **
· Macarons **
· Mandorlo Cioccolato **
· Oui Plus! **
Laurel & June
· Forever young EDP
Little Book Eater
· Southern Gothic
Moonalisa/MooScents (3mL EDP Decants)
· Abigail **
· Elspeth **
· Lemon Curd and Coconut Cream **
· Rose Petal Jam and Vanilla Cream **
· Vantasia **
Mythpunk Olfactive
· Paper Moon
NAVA
· Carpe Noctem **
· Cotton Candy Kashmir Crimson Marshmallow Musk **
· Cotton Candy Sandalwood Mallow Musk **
· Kashmir **
Nui Cobalt
· Kiss of Death
· The Quest
Possets
· Medusa **
Solstice Scents (5mL EDP Decants)
· Nightgown EDP **
· Cherry Vanilla Amberosia EDP **
· Violet Mallow EDP**
Sorcellerie Apothecary
· Mermaids Sing of Lost Lovers EDP **
· Stuck on You EDP **
· Witch's Valentine EDP **

Twelve-year-old Lilac started crying even harder, her hand going to the locket that she hadn't taken off for six years, as she managed to say through her sobbing, "I... I am Jewish. That's... not my real dad."
(Based on one of my OCs)

This story was written and emailed to me by an anonymous source. And it’s one of the craziest most bizarre stories I’ve ever read. Ever! 😆 Enjoy the read. It’s long and ridiculously wild. ☘️ Also, in advance, no one can use this story. These stories are written and emailed to me for me to turn into a Video Narrative for my YouTube & TikTok channels. But I would like to share their tales as reading material as well. Thank you for understanding.
I hope you enjoy. 🫶
Story by - “Alex” & “Shane”
Okay so…
I went on vacation to Ireland with my brother last year. And had the most wildest experience of my life there.
Or should I say, we both had the most…wildest experience.
But More so me. And to Tell you the truth, I don’t think I’ll ever go back again after what happened.
As a matter of fact, no, I won’t go back.
So, it’s a Sunday night and it was pretty much our last day of vacationing.
My older brother Shane, wanted to go out… And I’m quoting him - “let’s get fuckin wasted tonight!”
So… We’re on vacation right? Why not? We had rented an Airbnb for the week, we had a rental car - we had a great week so far and we were having…
A proper vacation.
He was already dressed up and ready to go. I wanted to take a quick shower and shave so I told him to head out and I’d call him when I was ready for him to pick me up.
He says cool. He leaves, and I jump in the shower. He’s the one that knows the hot spots in Ireland better than I do. I mean, this was my first time ever coming here. So…
I take a shower, shave, and I get dressed. As I’m about to call my brother, the front door to our Airbnb opens up.
And Its my brother with two bad ass Irish women! They both jump on the couch and they’re laughing their asses off and my brother is just standing there looking at me with a sly grin on his face.
He looks over at the ladies and says - “Give me a minute please” walks over to me, puts his arm over my shoulder and walks me to the bathroom. He then whips out a bag of mushrooms and smiles. Ya know… The psychedelic kind.
I look down at the bag and I shake my head.
He says to me - “come on bro. We got two hotties out there who are trippin and they want to party. Don’t be a flake. This is our last night. Let’s make it special.”
I don’t like disappointing my brother but I was kind of hesitant.
I opened the bathroom door and take a look at these gorgeous women who were both sitting upright now and both looking at me as I opened the door. Both smiling. I smiled back. Closed the door… I looked at my brother and said - “Alright dood fuck it! Let’s do it!”
He gives me a huge hug, kisses me on the forehead, pours me a handful of shrooms and does the same for himself.
We both looked at each other to see who would go first. He counted to three and down the hatch they went. But they were the most unpleasant tasting mushrooms I’ve ever eaten in my life. They were disgusting.
I ran to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of juice because I was having a hard time chewing these nasty things.
But my brother Shane? No, he’s a pro. You give that guy a barrel of hay and he’ll eat it faster than a horse. The guy can eat anything.
40 minutes go by and I’m still straight as a pin. However, my brother on the other hand? He’s already trippin.
I think he had already taken some beforehand.
But in the next 10 minutes… These shrooms hit me like a ton of bricks! It was like this intense wave of cool and hot went completely through my body.
And I’ve taken mushrooms quite a few times but have never felt anything like this before. It was so sudden!
And I feel fantastic!
The next hour went by so fast because we were having so much fun! And these Irish girls? Man… I had the sexiest one! A beautiful Redhead by the name of Katrina.
She was kind of short though. About 5’1” maybe? But good things come in small packages, right? Well, not really. And you’ll know why soon enough.
I don’t recall anything else that happened for the rest of the night after my brother left with the other girl. And before I continue with the rest of the story. My brother’s name is really not Shane. And the redhead girl I was with is not named Katrina.
You see I had to make up these names to protect me and my brother. Because what happened during the rest of the night? I don’t remember. But also, I’ll never forget either.
Okay so, let's get back to the story…
I do remember my brother leaving with… Let's just call her Gloria, Katrina’s friend? And me and Katrina, the redhead, stood behind. I do remember us making out in the bathroom together, but…Everything else after that? There’s nothing there. Nothing. I don’t recall anything from that point forward no matter how badly I try to remember.
This is what my brother told me he witnessed as he arrived back at the Airbnb five hours later with Gloria.
And until this day, I still don’t want to believe this happened. But according to my brother…
It truly did happen.
My brother is going to write this part of the story because he’s the one that has this locked in his memory for life. And for the sake of the story, my name will be Alex.
Here is my brother Shane’s point of view - his perspective on what he witnessed that crazy night. Wow man… This is so fucking nuts. So buckle up and be prepared. I understand you don’t know who I am, but I swear, I’m not a bad person. Okay.

• “Shane’s” story on what he witnessed.

Yeah so, I guess I’m Shane now. Unreal…
Okay. Here we go. Meat and potatoes.
We arrive back at the Airbnb and I see Alex outside in the front of the house wearing only socks and he’s running around on top of the grass like an animal yanking out handfuls of grass from underneath him.
I look at Gloria and we’re both baffled at what we just saw.
First thing I said was - “Oh yeah! This dood is off his rocker right about now - as I parked the car.
We both hop out of the car and walk up to the front door. I slide the key into the door, it unlocks, but there’s a chair behind the door and it’s tipped over blocking the entry way and only leaving enough space for a crack. We both awkwardly look at one another and as I’m about to call out for my brother, I hear someone sprinting towards the door and bang!
The fuckin idiot shuts the door on us.
I then knock on the door softly because It’s almost 1 in the morning as I don’t want to make too much noise. God only knows what this kid has been doing since me and Gloria left.
After I knock on the door a few times, I hear the chair getting pushed to the side and my brother slightly opens the door. I take a peek inside, and his nose is broken, lips are bubbled up and his left eye is completely shut, black and blue and swollen.
He then drops to his knees, and begins crying but no sound is coming out of him! You know… Like when you get smacked by your parents when you’re a kid and it shocks the soul of you? Yeah, that kind of cry.
I don’t react to what he’s doing to not scare the shit out of Gloria, because she’s right beside me. So I push the door open and tell Gloria to hang on a second and shut the door and lock it.
I pick his busted ass up and sit him on the couch. I look around the house and it’s in complete shambles. Our clothes are everywhere, there’s food all over the fuckin walls. It was chaotic. And my brother is now sitting up breathing frantically.
I ask him - “what in the fuck happened?”
He looks at me. Face looking like he got into a boxing match with Rocky Marciano and whispers to me.
“Dood… There’s a leprechaun in the bathroom.”
“A fuckin what now?” - I said with the most bewildered look on my face. I mean I must have… I wish I would have taken a picture of my face at that very moment. I should have taken pictures of everything so this idiot could see the havoc he wreaked on that night.
My imbecile brother continues - “I’m telling you. There’s a fuckin leprechaun in the fuckin bathroom and this little lucky charms motherfucker won’t tell me where he hid the gold!”
“A leprechaun in the bathroom. What the fuck happened to you?” I said as I felt my blood beginning to boil.
The Imbecile then says - “Don’t worry. Don’t worry! I hogtied that little bitch and stuffed my underwear in its mouth. It’s in the bathtub. But don’t go in there. Don’t go in there. This thing fucked me up!”
And now I can hear someone fumbling in the bathroom moaning very softly. I looked at my brother and said - “What in the fuck did you do Alex?”
He replies - “I’m telling you. It’s a fucking leprechaun.”
“Okay. Okay.” - I said. “Stay right here and just, don’t move. Don’t do anything. Just keep still.
His eyes were so huge and dilated. He was so fuckin high. He had heartbeat pulses pumping from the top of his head.
I rushed back over to the front door and told Gloria that my brother got into a fight with a couple of guys at a pub while me and her were out and that her friend Katrina left because she got scared. She told me that was the first time she met that girl tonight so she really didn’t care and shrugged it off. Which was a huge relief to me. I told her thank you for a wonderful night. She understood. W said our goodbyes. I shut the door. And now… What the fuck is in the bathroom? Or better yet, who, is in the bathroom? Because let’s face it. This motherfucker did not find and fight with a leprechaun tonight. No way. There’s just no fuckin way.
I rush over to the bathroom and my brother leaps at my legs, and he’s holding onto me for dear life, begging me!
He says - “Please don’t untie it! It’s got magical powers! PLEASE!!!
Now, at this very moment? I am sort of hesitant about opening the bathroom door. But I snap out of it and open it. What the fuck. A leprechaun? No, I don’t think so.
I open the door…
“Holy shit.” - I said while covering my hands with my mouth. The floor was smeared in blood as if someone was dragged, leading to the huge cast iron tub. Smeared bloody handprints were all over the tub. And now I hear the faint moan coming from the tub. My legs are shaking and feel like they’re ready to give out on me. I was scared shitless.
“What did my brother do? Who is in that bathtub? I pray to God Katrina isn’t in there right now.” - I said to myself completely freaked out.
I slowly walk up to the bathtub…
And sure enough, there is a hogtied person lying in it with my brother's underwear stuffed in their mouth with a ripped t-shirt tied around their head and mouth, but… It’s not Katrina.
It’s a little person. You know, a dwarf? And… He’s literally dressed up in a leprechaun costume…
And how, on God's green earth did he end up here?
He has no idea I’m standing above him. I reach down to begin untying him but he begins squirming and screaming. I told him to relax and that I was here to help him.
And then My imbecile brother Alex, rushes into the bathroom and tackles me down. Stands up and begins shouting at this poor bastard hogtied in the tub - “Tell me where it is you greedy little fuck! Tell me!!!
I jumped to my feet and slapped my brother back to his childhood. Grabbed him by the throat, tripped him and threw him to the ground and said - “are you fuckin crazy? Do you want to go to prison for kidnapping? What in the fuck is the matter with you? You dumb fuck!!”
He then looks up at me with this pessimistic look on his face and says - “It’s a fucking leprechaun dood. A leprechaun.”
I was absolutely dumbfounded and furious at this point. I have this stranger in my Airbnb rental, hogtied and gagged and squirming and screaming and my brother thinks that he’s a leprechaun…
I can’t make this shit up.
He was so fucking high on those mushrooms. He was absolutely convinced that this man was a leprechaun. So… I had to play the game.
It was the only way to help this poor son of a bitch that my brother had kidnapped and hogtied in our Airbnb rental.
I calmly whispered and told him to please leave the bathroom so I could interrogate the leprechaun and find out where he was hiding the pot of gold.
My brother slowly stood up to his feet, face busted up, his cock and balls all shriveled and tight, looked at the man dressed up as a leprechaun, smiled at him with an evil grin and just, walked away…
And as he walked away, I told him to go and please put some clothes on, lay down in bed, and that I would handle the leprechaun. That I, would find out where the gold was hidden…
And that’s all I’m saying. I’m giving the computer back to my dumbass of a brother to finish off whatever else he wants to write.

• Back to “Alex”

Pretty outlandish right? I know. I know. You must think that I’m bat shit crazy huh? Okay so, to make the rest of this long story short, my brother Shane never told me what he did with the poor guy I hogtied and, well… i don’t remember how this guy came to be in my possession. I really don’t.
The only thing my brother Shane told me was that he ungagged him, untied him, and that he was extremely pissed off. And that he had compensated him for his troubles.
Man, I felt so horrible. I felt so horrible…
What I do remember though is waking up that following afternoon with my face all fucked up. Dehydrated with a tremendous splitting headache. I had no clue as to why I looked and felt the way I did. It was terrifying.
All of our luggage was packed and my brother was just sitting there, legs crossed and his arms folded.
Hey man… Take it from me. Don’t do fuckin drugs.
Regards, “Alex” & “Shane”
Disclaimer- This story may not be used for anything other than reading, sharing your thoughts and enjoying it. It is now protected by the United States Library of Congress/Copyright Office. Thank you. ☘️

I saw a tweet by someone complaining about Moe Cronin thinking Baseball was a Bloodsport. Talking about how it's not logical that with Pre-War Ghouls, Holo tapes, etcetera, that people would forget what baseball was.
Here's the thing. We're idiots.
We saw what the pandemic did. People went apeshit. Every Zombie Movie, Slasher Movie, even Purge movie turned out to be correct. People freaked out. Screamed and attacked people over basic precautions. Easily disproven misinformation spread like wildfire. To quote MIB, "A person is smart, people are dumb, panicky, dangerous animals and you know it."
Yes, it is up to a writer to think logically. Moe should have realized by now what baseball actually was. But by that same token, people defy all logical expectation. Maybe Moe heard sarcasm from a Pre-war ghoul and took it as gospel, maybe he misinterpreted an old rule book, or maybe it's all stuff he made up to sell baseball bats and umpire pads as weapons and armor.
It all kinda goes back to old vs new Fallout. Old Fallout, despite everything, has a very hopeful view of humanity. Within a hundred years of the nukes dropping, the NCR was fully formed and bringing civilization back to the wasteland. Bethesda implies that people will remain disparate and chaotic, some even turning into crazed raiders.
The older I get, the more I see Fallout 3 may be the most realistic in terms of how humanity, or at least the United States of America, will react. Without driving forces of ideology like Mr. House, Caesar, or even James, people will crawl into a hole and call it home, even if that hole is next to unexploded nuclear ordinance.
And I can get into the whole cultural importance of individualism to Americans and how that may sabotage us if the nuclear apocalypse did come, but that's more than enough politics for a post that's supposed to be me defending Wes Johnson doing a cheesy Bostonian accent.
Pardon the ramble.

By popular demand, I guess...
I was kinda just being a smart-ass, but some of you wanted more so here it is: epilogues for every NPC as if they didn't continue to travel with Gorion's Ward and instead just decided to live their own life. Obviously, there are some implied alignment changes here.
This turned out to be longer than I expected and I kinda just threw it all together while I was working. Please excuse any typos or sloppy writing.
I want to apologize for one thing, though. Viconia's epilogue really only works if GW is a male, so I had to make that assumption for the sake of her story. If it matters any, I easily play just as many female GWs as I do male GWs. In fact, I probably play more female GWs because I don't care for the romances, frequently play the canon party, and want to nip the lame Jah romance in the bud.
But, to have them all in one place, I included my original smart-ass epilogues with the additional ones I created. Now, every character from BG1 and BG2 has an epilogue. I don't have the EE characters, though, because I play the original games and don't really know them.
So, just for funsies, which one is your favorite and why?
"Anomen continued to wait at the Copper Coronet for a party of adventurers willing to travel with him. Maybe it was the grating sound of his voice, or perhaps the way he leered at women, but he continued to remain alone. Eventually, he needed to find work to make ends meet. With Gorion's Ward having disbanded the slave traders and pit fights, Hendak had to find a new form of entertainment for the patrons. As such, he invented an all male review ladies night, and Anomen found work as a 'dancer'. He left the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart to join the less noble order of the pole. He also renounced his faith to Helm and instead allied himself with Waukeen because if you wanna see some groin, you gotta have some coin."
"Despite Gorion's Ward clearing the trolls from her keep, Nalia was not able to reclaim her lands and instead lost her estate to Lord Roenall. The lord offered to let her retain residence in her family's ancestral home, but only in exchange for her hand in marriage. Nalia found the proposition to be repugnant. Instead, she salvaged whatever wealth she could from her family's keep and moved to Athkatla to start a new life. She no longer helped the less fortunate, as she was now among their numbers and had her own problems. Nalia's lack of any practical skills combined with her sense of entitlement sent her into a life of failure followed by drinking and debauchery. She now spends more time back at the Copper Coronet than anywhere else. It is hard to say where she squanders her wealth more, the alcohol, or on the dancers during Ladies Night."
"After the incident with the Planar Sphere, Valygar was finally free of his past, could retire to his cabin, and pursue his true passion: writing. Ironically, the only inspiration he found ended up stemming from his family's checkered past. Valygar's only works that even had middling success were 'Tuesdays with Lavok' and 'Dude, Where's My Planar Sphere', with the latter being made into a production at the Five Flagoons Theater."
"Haer'Dalis continued to work as a performer at the Five Flagoons Theater. Unfortunately, it struggled due to poor management. It might have turned out better if an outside agent with fresh ideas had stepped in, but Gorion's Ward had better things to do than be a bard. While the work was generally steady, the returns were not great and the material was a little low-brow for Haer'Dalis' liking. The tiefling realized he reached rock bottom when he was cast as the lead in a play about a buffoon who apparently lost a plane-shifting apparatus the size of a small castle and had to find it before his parents returned from Neverwinter. After the opening night, he took his own life in his dressing room. His body was found the next morning with a note saying, 'Art is dead and I am art, so I shall join art in death.' Biff the Understudy stepped in for Haer'Dalis despite never having an opportunity to read the script. Nevertheless, the production was a resounding success and launched Biff's career to new heights."
“A heartbroken Garrick found work as a character actor at the Five Flagoons Theater, but eventually gained more success as a writer and director. He found it to be a mostly agreeable situation, aside from a tiefling primadonna who would constantly belittle his work and call it ”trite" and “drivel”. Fortunately, that situation worked itself out in time and Garrick found Biff to be much easier to direct. With the tiefling gone, his ideas had room to grow. He invented a new kind of love story, one where the protagonist doesn't always get the girl at the end but the journey to that ending would be quite amusing. He labeled this genre “the Comedy of Romance” and the works were mostly based on his own life. His plays were quite popular among the commoners, with his top selling shows being 'Sleepless in Saradush', 'Silverymoon Linings Playbook', and 'Crazy Rich Aasimars'. He eventually fully transitioned off the stage into the director's chair. By the peak of his fame, he was married to none other than Queen Ellesime."
“Aerie continued to work at the circus and WOULD NOT SHUT UP ABOUT HER DAMN WINGS. Even Quayle eventually grew sick of hearing about it. This put strain on their relationship. Things took a turn for the better when Ribald Barterman acquired a new curiosity for his shop. It was a magical ring which he sold to Quayle at a reduced rate out of sympathy. This ”treasure" was actually a cursed Ring of Deafness, which Quayle found to be anything but a curse and wore it for the rest of his days."
“Xzar and Montaron were both slain at the hands of the Athkatla Harpers, but this is actually where their story begins. Xzar, as he had done so many times before, had a backup plan of an arcane nature should death befall either he or the halfling. Their mortal essences were pulled to a pocket plane he created. There they could be channeled into restored bodies cloned at his estate. With this particular round of ritual, Xzar had incidentally made a slight error in the incantation and the two found themselves in a time suspended state in Xzar's pocket plane. It was only five minutes for the rest of the world, but it was fifty years for them. This turned out to be a pivot point in their relationship. Having only each other's company in this shadowy void, they were finally able to work out their feelings for each other. When they had returned to the prime material plane, they discovered their mutual animosity was replaced with love. Rather than pick up their life where they left off with the Zhentarim, they decided to pack it all in, moved to Bryn Shander, and start a bed and breakfast. Montaron rediscovered his halfling roots and love for the culinary arts while Xzar would perform seances to connect guests with their late loved ones. Scones and Bones became an overnight success and was consistently listed as a “must see” in Volo's travel guides. In their golden years, the couple co-wrote a memoir of their journey, ‘Brokeback Montaron’, which is sold in bookstores everywhere."
“After briefly crossing paths with Gorion's Ward, Mazzy Fentan continued her crusade as a de facto halfling paladin. She eventually found herself petitioning for membership at the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart in Athkatla after she had singlehandedly saved a village from an ancient dracolich. Despite the extent of her virtue and accomplishment, her petition was denied on the basis that halflings could not possibly be real paladins. This inspired her next crusade, one to break down vocational barriers for all demihuman races. Why couldn't halflings be paladins or dwarves be wizards? And why did gnomes always have to be illusionists? It simply made no goddamn sense. She began to get traction with her quest when she attended lectures by the wizards of the (sword) coast in Candlekeep. With their help, she ushered Faerun into a new edition era where there would be no vocational barriers for adventurers based on their race. Soon, the world began to see roguish halflings that also venerated Helm, while tending to the wilds as a druid. Half-orc bards also studied as wizards while manifesting natural arcane abilities as sorcerers. Tiefling paladins took their crusades to the wilderness and served as rangers, while sidelining as clergy to Mystra. The world was now a liberated place, free to not make any goddamn sense in a myriad of new ways. At one point, Lady Mazzy Fentan of Trademeet (now formally a paladin) crossed paths with a dwarven shadowdancebard and in that moment she regretted everything. Seriously, just take a moment and picture that. It would look fucking ridiculous.”
“Yeslick's clanhome was flooded once again. Despondent and without options, he took work at a smithy in Baldur's Gate but never stopped dreaming of finding both a clan and a home. He found a way to bring this dream to life after a courageous halfling paladin broke down the barriers for, among other things, dwarves to be wizards. Yeslick had an idea. He studied magic diligently until he was able to cast two spells of great importance: Water Breathing and Permanence. He then searched the lands for other clanless dwarves who would be willing to try something new. With the new clan he formed, Yeslick permanently gave all his fellow clansman the ability to breath underwater. They then moved into the flooded Cloakwood Mines and built the first underwater dwarven stronghold. Using his arcane powers, Yeslick also developed the ability to speak with the marine life that shared this stronghold. And, with that, the clan Aquadwarf was born. At one point, Valygar visited and wrote a play based on Yeslick's story. However, he couldn't even get it to stage at the Five Flagoons Theater. The illustrious director Garrick was quoted as saying, “A hero that can breath underwater and talk to fish? Nobody would go for that!"
“Keldorn finally retired from the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart and looked forward to a much simpler life. He rekindled his marriage with Lady Maria and life seemed to improve. It was rather early on when the couple discovered that Maria had become pregnant again. It was also not long after that when Peony, the housekeeper, also became pregnant. Maria started to ask Keldorn about this, but Keldorn started to get defensive and asked, ”Hey, who's the Inquisitor here?" Then Keldorn started to do the math with her to track the conception of Maria's pregnancy. She certainly did not want him to get to the end of that equation, so she quickly changed the subject. She suggested getting a new maid, but Keldorn chastised her for abandoning someone in their time of need who had been like family for years. He forbade Peony's departure claiming that his god, Torm, would not stand for it. Maria then made a passive aggressive comment about Torm being the god of loyalty, but she was mostly just muttering under her breath to get the last word in. Eventually, both children were born and had probably the most awkward upbringing of anyone in Faerun."
“After Gorion's Ward helped Coran take down a wyvern, the rogue brought the beast's head back to the mayor of Beregost for the reward and accolades. He thought this put him in a position to be a hero of great renown and perhaps, just maybe, people would stop mocking him for his flashy attire and completely superfluous eye mask. They didn't. He only gained acceptance when he crossed paths with a ranger who seemed indifferent towards Coran's keen fashion sense. Coran traveled the Sword Coast with his ranger sidekick, righting the wrongs against the ‘little guy’ and taking the law into their own hands when needed. This partnership dissolved when he discovered that the ranger thought Coran was the sidekick. As if! Coran tried to correct the ranger, whose argument was, 'Really, man, if that outfit doesn't scream sidekick then I'm Elminster's twin brother.' The ranger was not related to Elminster and shared no resemblance.
“Kivan never was able to get his revenge on Tazok. Unbeknownst to him, that honor was taken by Gorion's Ward. His thirst for vengeance continued to eat away at him until he found himself in a bat infested cave in the wilderness. It was then he snapped. He turned the cave into his secret hideaway, put together a disguise and started wandering the sword coast looking for evil-doers to punish. He would leave his calling card wherever he saved the day, a token of a bat with longer ears like an elf. And bats already had rather long ears so these bat ears were almost comically obtrusive. Nevertheless, his deeds were generally appreciated and the people stared calling him Bat-elf. For a short spell, another elf tagged along with him and tried to help, but he was so flamboyantly dressed that one could pick his sidekick out of the shadows blindfolded. Kivan eventually had to send him on his way. Unfortunately, his vigilante crusade abruptly ended after receiving a cease and decist order from DC Comics. Kivan could fight both monster and marauder all day, but his 14 Constitution wouldn't hold up against a lawsuit for trademark infringement.”
“Skie was deeply affected by both the death of her brother and the assassination of her father. And yes, her father was actually murdered and didn't lol-jk back to life in some crappy DLC. In any event, through these traumas, she came to realize the puerility of what she thought was her brilliant criminal masterminding. Instead, she decided to settle down and live a more responsible life as an upstanding citizen of Baldur's Gate. She took the reins of her father's estate after his death and rose to prominence as one of the Grand Dukes of the city. She maintained her relationship with Eldoth for quite some time, inexplicably, as he refused to get a job because he didn't want to take attention from his band which he swore was going to make it. However, the bard spent most of the day either lounging at Skie’s estate or gambling away his allowance with games of three-dragon-ante at the Helm and Cloak. Eventually, inspired by the book “Men Are From Menzoberranzan, Women Are From Immilmar," she decided to call it quits with Eldoth and sent him packing. Shortly thereafter, she met a man who was nothing like Eldoth and they settled down together to start a family."
“Eldoth's dreams of being a world-famous musician fronting the greatest band in Faerun never reached fruition. This was partly because he didn't actually have a band and partly because he didn't have the talent to write music. Instead, he just had a lute he purchased at Lucky Aello's Discount Store that only had one A-string and was missing the E-string. Also, Eldoth could only play power chords and he couldn't really sing and play at the same time. Most of the time he would just strum a chord or two and then talk about what the song would do next, often describing a solo and half playing it on an ”air lute" (while he was still holding an actual lute, mind you) to give people the idea as to how the song would sound when it was finally written. Yeah, he was one of those guys. After Skie kicked him to the curb, he bounced between various barmaids who clearly had low self-esteem, but not low enough to keep him around for long. Eventually, he got one of them pregnant and was forced into a shotgun wedding by the barmaid's father. He now works in the kitchen at the same inn as his barmaid wife. She helps the customers up front and he cooks eggs in the back. Eldoth continues to tell himself that this experience will just provide inspiration for his music and that someday he was going to get the band back together."
“After being rescued by Gorion's Ward, Xan made his way to Baldur's Gate to regroup. He spent an inordinate amount of time beating himself up over his failures and trying to muster the gumption to continue his quest to unravel the political turmoil of the region. However, it took him months to get to this point, and by that time, Gorion's Ward already sorted out the problems in the region. Discovering this, he deemed himself a failure yet again and sunk into a deeper depression. He pulled himself out of it when he met a woman who lost most of her family to violent deaths during the iron crisis, yet she still kept herself together and became a local success in a few short years. Xan immediately fell in love with the recently single Skie Silvershield and began to court her. They eventually married and started a family. At Xan's insistence, and inspired by his wife's name, their two daughters were named Sunshine and Rainbow. Xan was a staunch supporter of his wife's career and stayed home to raise the kids. When they were older and needed less attending, he followed a new dream and became a motivational speaker.”
“Korgan had his revenge against his backstabbing crew and employer, but he felt...empty. It was done, but he felt no satisfaction. Disgruntled and disappointed, he decided to lose himself in his cups at the Copper Coronet. Even this did nothing to alleviate his malaise. One night, having passed out drunk in a peasant room at the Copper Coronet, he dreamt of that final fight but something was different. In the background of the battle, there was a glow coming from the door of a shack and he heard the whispering of a language that sounded like it was from Kara-Tur. When he woke the next morning, Korgan returned to the rooftop and found the shack from his dream. He knocked and was greeted by a priest of Illmater. Korgan told the priest of his dream and he was led into the backroom where he found a man from Kara-Tur infirm and huddled over a cup of tea. The priest explained that he had just reincarnated this man of the faith using a heart delivered by a passing adventurer. Korgan took this as a sign, converted to the faith, and the two paired up to help those in suffering as a result of the schemes of others. The tales of Korgan and Yoshimo were not only told in many of a tavern by the bards, but also collected in graphic serials that were popular among the children of Athkatla.”
“Ajantis' death sent him into an afterlife at Everwatch, the realm of Helm. For his honor and diligence, the devout knight was granted an audience with his patron. Ajantis then told Helm what utter bullshit the god was. I mean, c'mon, he's the god of protection, the Vigilant One, and he couldn't protect a group of knights from a dragon's cheap illusion spell that a mage even tried to dispel with True Sight? It was like Helm wasn't even trying. Helm was stunned by the confrontation but also had no valid defense. Ajantis called Helm to a trial that was mediated by Tyr. After careful deliberation, Tyr determined that Helm was sleeping on the job and the judgment was to demote him to a lesser deity. Now, Helm was the patron of guards, but not actual guards that ever see action, just the ceremonial ones whose weapons and armor are super shiny and probably not even real. Ajantis was then granted Helm's old portfolio and became a god that truly protected his followers.”
“Viconia left Athkatla's government district perplexed. She was rescued from burning at the stake by Gorion's Ward and then immediately dismissed. She found this to be unusual behavior for a male. She was accustomed to men either trying to bed her or kill her, but this casual indifference was completely new. Viconia came to be obsessed with Gorion's Ward from a distance. She spiraled into a fantasy where the two of them had a future together. It was pretty bad. There were some extremely embarrassing vision boards involved and that wasn't even the worst of it. When her mania reached critical mass, her obsession actually collapsed and she had an epiphany. She came to realize that she did not need this man, or any for that matter. She started on a journey of self discovery and took a moral inventory of her past relationships. She wrote about it in the book, “Men Are From Menzoberranzan, Women Are From Immilmar”. She then used the revenue from the book sales to open Athkatla's first feminist bookstore. In Her Words became a mecca for women, particularly those who felt trapped in bad relationships. The community that emerged here created the group, Friends of Galia, which strove to free women from abusive relationships. Eventually, the bookstore expanded to include an apartment block above that became a shelter for such women. Occasionally, the partners of these victims would come around to In Her Words in an attempt to drag their partners back home. You can probably guess how a confrontation between a drunken 0-level commoner and a Drow priestess of Shar ends."
“Faldorn was defeated by Jaheira in Trademeet and lost her title of Arch-Druid. In truth, she was relieved to be relieved of the position. Years of pushing forward the Shadow Druid agenda led Faldorn to realize that she had lost touch with the real Faldorn along the way. After some soul-searching, she reinvented herself as a lifestyle guru and developed an entire line of organic health and beauty products under the name, She-Wolf. Both her products and seminars were all the rage in Athkatla, specifically among noblewomen who clearly had too much free time. Faldorn eventually gave up her residence in natural environs for a lavish estate in Athkatla's government district. Her following soon pressured her to petition to join the Council of Six after the fall of the Cowled Wizards left the position open (aside from a short-term replacement). Her petition was a success and she soon found herself on the Council of Six. Under her leadership, she created created the FDAA, the Food and Drink Association of Athkatla. Now, instead of draconian rules governing magic in the city, equally restrictive rules and standards were applied to the food and drink that the people consumed.”
“Barely surviving being gravely wounded by Irenicus, Tiax left Spellhold for Athkatla where he intended to do what he did best: rule. Learning from his past campaign mistakes in Baldur's Gate, he changed his slogan from ”Tiax Rules!" to “Make Athkatla Great Again”. Of course, what he thought would make Athkatla great was putting himself in charge as a despotic leader. But, he toned down that aspect of his platform and instead focused on the history of scheming and backroom dealing of the Cowled Wizards (as if he was any less evil or scheming) and promised the people he would be different than all the other corrupt politicians. Miraculously, despite his obviously apparent character flaws, he succeeded in replacing the Cowled Wizards' representative on the Council of Six. He decided to take their stance on restrictive magic to the next level and banned magic entirely. Since he didn't study the arcane himself, it was no skin of his nose. This move undermined his support base leaving him with only the most backwards and ignorant followers. He was ultimately removed from his position when he insisted the city build a wall around the planar sphere and was expecting that the city's wizards would be the ones to pay for it. After his removal, his few remaining extreme supporters organized an invasion of the main government building under the guise of freedom of assembly. All nine of these “rebels” were rounded up, tried, and sent to prison. Tiax was convicted of treason and reincarnated in Spellhold, which was now just a common prison. After his eventual release, he was prohibited from seeking any position of power in Amn."
"Edwin Odesseiron continued to lay low with the Shadow Thieves for a while. The Cowled Wizards suffered a crippling blow as a side effect of the conflict between Gorion's Ward and Irenicus. Edwin decided to step in and finish the job. His thought was that he could wipe out the Cowled Wizard remnants and then take credit for their defeat, thereby gaining him more clout among the Red Wizards of Thay. After many conspicuous mage battles in the streets of Athkatla, he succeeded. However, the people who noticed his efforts the most were actually the people of Athkatla. They were tired of living under the Cowled Wizards' iron fist and Edwin was lauded as a liberator and hero. He even had a statue in his image raised in Waukeen's Promenade. Edwin was initially nonplussed over people finally giving him the credit he always felt he so rightfully deserved. But, he quickly came to accept their praise and bought in to being a champion for the people. Edwin continued his agenda of liberation when a clearly insane gnome who found his way on the Council of Six tried to ban magic entirely in the city. Edwin and his followers were primarily responsible for having the madman removed from his seat.
“Shar-Teel, Safana, Branwen, and Alora all happened to cross paths with each other at Elfsong one evening. Shar-Teel was looking to fight a man, Safana was looking to shag a man, Branwen was recently petrified by a man, and Alora was just excited to be somewhere new. The four got to talking with each other and, despite having wildly different personalities, seemed to hit it off. Shar-Teel was sarcastic and aggressive, Safana was self-absorbed and man-hungry, Alora was kind and sweet, and Branwen was the matriarch of the group. You wouldn't think this lot would get along, but they actually did, and their differences merely become the fuel for innocuous hi-jinks week after week.”
"With Gorion's Ward's help, Cernd was able to rescue his child that he then abandoned again at the druid grove near Trademeet. He promised that he would return to raise the child, he just needed to run to the general shop in Trademeet for some pipeweed. He never returned, but that was pretty obvious since he didn’t even smoke. Cernd continued to wander Faerun. It came to light in Cormyr that Cernd had actually married, and had children, with numerous women in Cormyr, Amn, the Sword Coast, Tethyr, Calimshan, Turmish, Halruaa, Icewind Dale, Chondath, Sembia, Impiltur, the Silver Marches, and even the Troll Hills (don't ask). Furthermore, it was discovered that Cernd was not actually a druid, just a werewolf that had a Ring of Goodberries. The druid con was so that he could have a reason to abandon his wives and children and move on to a new situation. You would be surprised at how many women could fall for a guy that can conjure an impromptu picnic in the park. Unfortunately for Cernd, Cormyr was not the kind of place to run afoul of the legal system. For the crime of bigamy, he was sentenced to life in prison. He never set foot near a druid grove again, but he was allowed to participate in a work-release program tending to the gardens of nobles.
“Kagain returned to his shop and grew even more bitter, but not over what the death of Entar Silvershield's son had done to his reputation and business. Instead, he resented that even the Enhanced Edition of the game didn't give him a remotely decent companion quest. By Moradin's hammer, Cernd even had a pretty involved companion quest and the story there both starts and ends with a deadbeat dad! Also, Kagain can regenerate! Korgan can't even do that. And another thing! He was sick of people confusing the two of them as if all dwarves look alike or something. Ok, granted, they're both old dwarves with greying beards, but Korgan's beard is tied while Kagain's beard is brushed out. Of course, none of this made sense to anyone, even to Kagain who never actually crossed paths with Cernd or Korgan. However, the dwarf had nothing to do with his time except stand in his shop, isolated and alone, until he was done in by insanity and plantar fasciitis.”
“The death of Khalid shook Jaheira to the core. She convinced herself that she could never love again, certainly not so soon after his death nor with anyone that would be a child in her eyes. That would be absurd and rather tacky. After her escape from Irenicus' prison and deposing Faldorn from the druid grove, she took over as Arch-Druid. Being a Harper just wouldn't be the same without Khalid. However, the grove would allow her to explore a new, but comfortingly familiar, phase of life. She had barely been installed as the Arch-Druid when Cernd dropped off his child and disappeared again. He did not even stay long enough to tell Jaheira the child's name. Knowing he would likely not return, she named the child Khalid after her lost love. Realizing there were other children our there without families to care for them, Jahaeira would send her subordinates to wander nearby lands and bring them to the grove for a better life. Perhaps not surprisingly, many of these children happened to be Cernd's. She eventually renamed the grove to Kinder Garden in honor of the grove's new purpose of giving these children a kinder upbringing. Jaheira's headstrong personality served her well with these lost children, who all loved her as they would any mother. The Kinder Garden became the most thriving druid grove in all of Faerun. Jaheira eventually died in 1547 DR, with hundreds of children haven been rescued in her lifetime, and a memorial was erected in her honor at the grove. The inscription read, 'Nature's Servant Awaits.'"
“After being freed from Irenicus' dungeon, Minsc put his boots on the ground at the Copper Coronet. Being the simple man that he was, he found himself unwittingly recruited into fighting in the gladiator pits (before Gorion's Ward was able to free the slaves). Yet again, Minsc took a blow to the head. But this time, its effects were something completely new. No longer was he the slow-witted evil-slaying ranger, armed to the teeth and packing a hamster. Instead, his intelligence and wisdom started to blossom and he explored, through dissertation, the impact of modern civilization on the overall ecosystem of Faerun. Indeed, before Minsc started his work, the people of Faerun didn't even have the concept of an ”ecosystem". He left Athkatla to pursue a residency at Jaheira's grove where he could study and work in peace. He published works like, “The Intersection of Geopolitics and Biodiversity: Living More but Dying Sooner”, “The Essential Symbiosis Between the Savage and Civilization”, and “Moral Urbanization: Seeking a More Comprehensive Prosperity”. Minsc continued his studies and writing and ultimately produced enough groundbreaking works to have his own annex in Candlekeep. It was shortly after the dedication of this annex that Minsc disappeared from Faerun, never to be seen again."
“Jan Jansen's fate was the most impressive of all as his endeavors shaped the very fabric of Faerun for centuries to come. His story truly serves as a moral lesson for everyone and we should heed its virtue quite seriously. Helping Lissa and Jaella planted a seed of regret in Lissa with regards to her marriage to Vaelag. Speaking of seeds, this reminds Jan of a time when he was helping his Uncle Scratchy with his turnip farm. However, Uncle Scratchy was hoodwinked and the seeds he received were actually purple carrot seeds. You can imagine Uncle Scratchy's surprise when they sprouted and he suddenly had a field of purple carrots. Well, as you probably know, you can't make turnip stew, or turnip casserole, or turnip pie with purple carrots. But it just so happened there was a mage tower nearby and the resident mage needed a vast number of carrots. Apparently, her plan was to animate them as a kind of vegetable army to combat a myconid infestation in cave system rather close to her tower. Of course, animated carrots are quite self-assured and were immune to myconoid's confusion spores. Anyway, Jan had a once-removed cousin, Bobil, that was lost in those caves when he was a young gnome. He had wandered so deep that he found himself in the den of a solitary xvart who was obsessed with a magic ring. Bobil happened to purloin that ring but it turned out to not be magic at all. However, it was still worth enough for Bobil to buy himself a nice cottage in Trademeet. He then started his own turnip farm and had better luck than Uncle Scratchy. Wait, what were we talking about, again?”
“Boo continued his mission to study the sentient life forms of Faerun and determine their potential impact on the metaverse. He preferred the continued company of Minsc due to the ranger's kindness and protectiveness. Boo found this to be quite valuable in his current miniaturized state. Even after Minsc's accident, where his intellect began to expand, Minsc never lost his good heart and inherent kindness and the two remained the best of friends. It was a number of years later that the term of Boo's mission was complete. A team of his fellow people arrived on a spelljammer to collect the giant miniaturized space hamster. Minsc (and Boo) were on a retreat in a remote part of the Neverwinter Wood when a vessel shaped like a giant acorn landed in a nearby clearing. A number of human-sized anthropomorphic hamster-like beings, who called themselves the Ysoki, emerged and met with Boo. One had a strange crystalline device which it used to restore Boo to his proper size. Minsc naturally remained composed while all this was happening. He and Boo talked often and he knew this day would be coming. Boo returned to the spelljammer with his brethren to debrief on the mission. The Ysoki wanted to bring a sample back to their homeworld for further learning and study. Boo offered Minsc for the task, as the exemplar human would fit in nicely with the Ysoki's advanced culture and society. Everyone was in agreement and made the offer to the ranger. Minsc felt like he had made every contribution he could to the people of Faerun, so he accepted and boarded the ship. Boo, excited to finally be on a spelljammer again, took the helm and plotted a course for his homeworld. At his side sat his friend and faithful companion, Minsc.”

So disclaimer this is everything my roommate did when she lived with me from my perspective. Also this is a really long story because a lot happened, and I do tend to get sidetracked.
Before we became roommates, I had a situationship with this guy. Let’s call him John. John and I met in our first semester of college and hit it off right off the bat. John was a mutual friend of me and my psychotic roommate, which is how we were introduced. Let’s call her Shortstack. So Shortstack knew I had a thing for John, and was encouraging us to start a relationship which I thought was nice. Eventually, though, when there was a lull in our relationship she admitted to liking John, and I backed off because it was looking like a relationship between me and John wasn’t gonna happen. I did my best to subtly wingman and they ended up dating.
Right before they made it official, I had met someone new. We’ll call him Tim (I’m trying to use generic/default guy names to keep some anonymity). Tim and I hit it off right off the bat. He’s honestly the most genuine, talented, thoughtful, and interesting guy I’ve ever met. Anyway, right before John and Shortstack started dating, I got a text from Shortstack saying she had the hots for Tim and asked if I he was free game. I was a bit bothered by that, but she respected my answer when I politely told her that Tim and I had something good and I didn’t want anyone interfering. At least, I THOUGHT she respected my answer.
Almost a year later and I had asked Shortstack if she wanted to be my roommate so we could both live near school while not having to live on campus. Worst decision ever.
She moved in before I did, and when it was my turn to move in the place was an absolute disaster. Dirty clothes and empty Dominos boxes covered the floor. She had also set up her decorations all over the entire apartment (not really leaving any room for me, which was made worse by the fact that we shared a room, and the apartment was very tiny so we were basically living on top of each other). I brushed it off, but it never really got any better. Normally I wouldn’t be too upset, I’m not a huge neat freak or anything, but it peeved me that she would always point out any mess that I had made.
Here’s a list of some of her really gross habits: dirty underwear everywhere kept old dominos boxes everywhere would buy salads and let them expire and they would sit there until I took them out Refused to do any chores or contribute in any way our shower didn’t fully drain so hair was often left in the tub, but she never cleaned up after herself (meaning I was scrubbing her pubes out of the tub) Used tissues would be left on the ground Not flushing I never once saw her do laundry in the 6 months we lived together
I’m sure there’s more but these are just the ones that I remember. To be fair, here were my gross she took issue with: Leaving dishes in the sink for a long-ass time Letting my laundry basket overflow Walking around in a towel after I took a shower, even when her tinder dates were over (mostly cuz I didn’t give a shit and everything was covered, but I also understand that her glares when I would do that were a little deserved).
That was the easiest part of living with her that I had to deal with. It got so so so much worse, and slowly she started to reveal her true colours.
She had a job at a jewelry store, got fired. Moved to a job at a grocery store across the street, got fired. Bummed around for a few weeks, mostly just sitting on the couch doing arts and crafts. Tried a Zumba class, quit after 2 sessions. Finally she got hired at a movie theatre, but she would only work Friday and weekends. All the while a lot of new things were appearing in our apartment. New makeup, a makeup chair, a tiny plastic Dreamhouse, posters and picture frames, lights, you name it. She was also buying premade meals and continued to order Dominos and DoorDash, never making her own food.
That’s around the time I found a buried letter from our landlord saying she was 2 months behind on rent. (Also an honorable mention about her RGB lights, she would keep them on while I was trying to sleep, even when I had work in the morning which was most days and she’d throw a little hissy fit whenever I asked her to turn them off because it was midnight and I had to get up in a couple hours).
She would constantly be having guys over, but would never tell me, so I’d always come home to a stranger on our couch and I’d uncomfortably lock myself in our room. Walls were thin so I had to listen to her awful flirting and occasionally kissing noises. She had made a goal for herself to kiss at least 30 guys so she could write a book about it, one chapter for each guy. It’s funny because the book is coming out soon, I’m not gonna share the name because I don’t wanna promote an incel’s diary but if you happen to be one of the guys she wrote about, just know that she has said several times her type is “Generic kinda ugly white guys.” I don’t think that’s her type, I think she just says that because all of the super attractive guys she went after all shot her down so quick.
While she’s collecting “ugly-ish white guys” (her words), she has promised herself to some dude in the military overseas who has a ring with their initials carved into it (his name is Matt. I’m not censoring that because I genuinely hope he sees this even though chances are insanely slim. She’s Jodie-ing you my guy, and she wants to elope and marry you to piss her parents off and for financial benefits because she can’t keep a job).
ONTOP of all this, Tim (who at this point I had been with for over a year) would come over and visit sometimes. She was always miserable, but perked up and suddenly became so sweet and friendly whenever he was there. Tim kept trying to drop some social cues that he did not want to talk to her, but she ignored it. I also want to mention that Tim is incredibly attractive, physically and personality wise, which is the main reason I think that “ugly” isn’t actually her type, it’s just all she can get.
Oh quick mention one of her tinder guys was 17. She was close to 20 at the time. She said their age gap made her uncomfortable but she invited him over because she wanted to, and I quote, “lick his abs.” Take that as you will.
My breaking point with her was when I woke up one day with a random man in the room sleeping next to her. She let a random man from tinder have full unsupervised access to 2 unconscious girls and all of their valuable items. There’s more stuff she did but this is already super long so I’m going to leave it on this note. Let me know if you guys wanna hear the rest.

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

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

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

XYZ

Often it will not be:

XABCDEFG.

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

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

[output format description]

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

AI:

XYZ

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

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

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

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

x: abc

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

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

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

I have two reddit accounts, so if these stories are familiar, that's why. Someone commented that one of these sounds like abuse from my Christian parent to me. So I've compiled all most of them here. (Most of them are to do with Christianity, the hypocrisy of Christianity, or the consequences of my choice to leave it.) Please be honest but also recognize that this isn't all the times sometimes these are amazing people and I love these people but for my sake I need to know if it's really that bad.
"I'm rather young. My mom (42F) and my dad (41M) both grew up in the church. My grandfather is the pastor of his own church and my mother was raised by her grandmother who played piano in the church. Growing up I'd say I was the perfect little Christian girl. I liked praying and went to church, I wanted to help the world, and I wanted to be baptized before I even started kindergarten. I remember that vividly. I was sitting in the kitchen in one of our folding chairs because we couldn't afford real ones and I was begging my mom to let me get baptized.
My family and I are African American. The church I went to when I was little was a black church. My mother was the praise dance choreographer so of course I did praise dancing. I'd go to Sunday school, I wore the big puffy dresses, and I knew all the songs. Of course I had the common experience of being assaulted in a sexual manor by someone I went to church with. But we were both the same age and I just knew I was uncomfortable and she just knew that's how people bigger than us touched each other. All that came of me telling my mom and me not having to go to her house anymore. I was always told that I was intelligent and I believed everything I was told without question. Then my sister was born and we moved. At first everything stayed the same. We ended up having to switch churches as the previous one was an hour away from our new home. We found a new church. A church were you can wear your hoodie and jeans like it's a Tuesday. I made friends and played sports and nothing really changed until I was eight. When I was eight there was a girl on my softball team I'll call E. E is Jewish and at the time I thought everyone was Christian. As in Christianity was the default and only option. But my friend E's church wasn't called a church but a synagogue, and she couldn't eat specific foods together. E also talked about BaBat Mitzvah's. When I brought that up to my mom she said my friend was Jewish and that being Jewish is like being Christian but they read from the old testament exclusively but they don't believe in Jesus.
Which a while later caused me to spend all night crying because I put the two and two together of: Believing in resurrection Sunday and that Jesus was gods son is what got us into heaven and I cried worrying one of my closest, sweetest friend and her nice family would go to hell. Then school, which had always been easy, became hard. Which made me feel dumb. Especially since my self worth was put into how smart I was and I wouldn't dare get below an A or high B because I was scared I'd get punished. Like the time I slammed my fingers a metal door on accident and spent the next fifteen minutes in tears and my mom told me if I kept crying she'd take me to the hospital to have them cut off my fingers. Because of moments like that disappointing my parent or having to big of an emotional reaction was not okay and it made me scared and uncomfortable. They knew I was struggling, they were the ones who stayed up till four something in the morning with me trying to explain the concept. But with every minor and major struggle I felt like my worth was slipping away. But the better I did in school the more my outstanding grades became the expectation which resulted in acknowledgement for my academic achievements disappearing. I felt like I was falling apart so I'd spend hours pray and begging god for help. To take the feeling of being worthless away. I developed an eating disorder sometime before ten. Specifically binge eating. My parents would find the trash, not understand that it was more than just "the sin of gluttony" and yell which made me feel threatened and eat more food.
And then I'd pray on my knees on the hard wood outside my room door with nails and splinters in it and hurt myself because not only was I a dumb glutton but I also apparently wasn't good enough for god to save or help. It made me think if he wants a relationship with me so bad why does he ignore me? I'd hold a knife to my wrist when I'd wash dishes to see if I felt him then. I questions if I'd even go to heaven. For all my problems the answer was to pray but the problem was I'm doing that but my prayers aren't being answered. I was having thought of death no twelve year old should have. On my birthday I was like a puppet simply going through the motions. Then I started questioning my sexuality. Not to mention, I'm now cut off from the world because this is all during covid, on the bright side they gave me my door back. Now I'm older and I have questions like. How was Adam able to name all the animals and understand god not wanting him to eat from the tree and their need to stay in the garden, but not comprehend his nakedness? How was Eve able to be tempted and not understand her nakedness? Why did they and apparently god think being naked was wrong? How are we not all messed up from tons of inbreeding and how do animals still exist after the inbreeding the would've occurred after Noah's ark if he only saved one male and female of each species? Why did god want to flood the Earth and purge it of it's evil humans if he was the one who decided free will would be a good idea? Since he is perfect and all knowing their shouldn't have been a moment of let me make something I'll destroy, wait nvm. My parents have changed a lot since I was little and have let me go to therapy. Of course I have a Christian therapist. Which I wouldn't mind if it wasn't for the fact that every time I bring up trauma that's linked to religion or need advice in terms of how to change a bad behavior or over come anxiety the advice is to pray. And at times I feel like I'm in a moment of doubt she feel she should try and pull me back in. But they also said I have to volunteer in the childern ministry at church.
I used to work with children ages three to five. Now I'm in one to three. And it feels like I'm spreading propaganda. They tell me what to say and what the goal is for the kids to believe by the end of the month. After I can't help but feel dirty. I'm at the point in my journey were I don't believe. But I have to keep working in the childern ministry, I have to go to church every Sunday, my parents are both devotional authors with published books. I'm the only one in my family who doesn't believe both extended and intermediate. I just wanna know I'm not crazy. I feel like I'm being brainwashed or something. Like drink the blood and eat the body of Jesus!? It's all too much. And now that my parents know they're trying to make me go back to believing. And I listen to them talk and it's like I can't have a conversations with you. You put your faith above all else. You believe whole heartedly, my point of view is automatically wrong to you because faith trumps logic so why would I share it with you? But at the same time it's majority of the music they play, it's all their advice, I go every Sunday, my classmates and friends are majority Christian and yet I even though I see the flaws and hypocrisy, I still can't help but wonder, am I the crazy one?"
"My grandma would grab me and call me "big booty Judy." And my butt was grabbed, spanked, and frequently talked about. Sometimes she'd just sit there tapping it while she talked. It started when I was around three or four and just continued. Though now I'm in my teens and rarely see her. But my breast were also a topic for a while. Comments like "where'd you get those from?", "she's bigger than you.", and "her sisters the tall one but she's the curvy one." They felt icky but I didn't dwell on them. But she's also an alcoholic along with many other things. She dated my mom's friends when she was in college, gets shit faced in at events like birthdays and funerals. Shakes her ass on family members and frequently offered us alcohol. But I always took pride in being her favorite grandchild. Which she constantly reminded me I was. She also has a serious spending problem. But the funny thing is. She goes to a church church. She's in the choir and used frequently as a look example. She hosts church events and potlucks. She even remarried in the church. Never mind the things I just said that'd be considered sins. She's the perfect Christian woman."
"How do you cope with the level of disrespect? I'm not eighteen yet, but I'm still able to be disrespected. My main problem is the disrespect from my parents. My parents who wish to be respected in their beliefs and don't want their minds to change. But at the same time, my dad has sent my scriptures and stuff for the past couple of months since it came out. I don't believe in God or Jesus. They force me to serve and volunteer at church and attend every Sunday. They paired me with a not so ethical Christian therapist. Then both gang up on me about it and take my silence as defeat when I'm just respecting their beliefs. I'm literally the only non Christian in my family. I also have mental problems from staying with them and just in general, but they won't test me because I don't behave in such a stereotypical manner. I want to say they love me, but does someone who blatantly disrespects you love you? I'm having a hard time with seeing if I should do something as drastic as no contact after I reach a certain age.
But at the same time their those awful parents who don't just blatantly suck but also have messed me up quite a bit, resulting in me not feeling like I have a right to be upset. I've told them about how Christianity mixed with their parenting drove me to suicidal thoughts, almost going through with it, and an eating disorder I'm still battling. I also can't just leave and close the door behind me. I'm the oldest, and their are two more kids just like me, and if I turned my back on them, I'd never forgive myself. They're my siblings, but they're also what stopped me from going through with the bad thoughts I was having. They need someone who will be honest, say the weird things, and answer the ignored questions. So, how can I deal with the blatant disrespect so that I'm around for them? What skill for stress management can I use? How do I block out the constant religious gaslighting that happens in church? Because I have over two more years of this."
"My dad said if people don't wanna have a baby, they shouldn't have sex even if they're married. But sir, you had three babies while financially unstable because you couldn't keep your damn hands off my mom. You were planning me, but your job fell through, and when my mom went to get back on birth control, it was too late, so I'll give you a pass with me. But my siblings were both surprises. So, quit judging and practice what you preach. But that's not what pissed me off the most. He said women will put all their time into work and not their husbands, and that's why some men cheat, but the way he said it, it was like he was justifying it. But my dad, he'd go to hooters alone, and when I needed tights, he got them from a woman their and it made me think what if. And I know it's stupid, but that what if. It is so loud.
And it's not even the first time he's said something along the lines of justifying it and almost blaming the woman who gets cheated on. But then he likes to be all up in arms about how his friend married a woman who cheated on him multiple times. My dad's like, I wanna pour into my kids but then makes no effort, and when we spent time with him, we had to initiate it. He doesn't do the hey you wanna . . . stuff. But he has his own company, and they can't get any work right now, so he spends most of his time at home. And then says I'm just to tired to spend time with ya'll.
My mom was sick to the point of being half passed out in a drive-thru after taking my brother to karate and having to pick up dinner. I would've offered to drive him if I could. I'm still leaning, and I'm bad at staying in one lane. But my dad was really busy on his PS5 with his made-up football team. So busy he couldn't take my brother to karate nor could he pause his game to get dinner. I'm kinda starting to hate him. He's also done a couple of other things, but that's what recently has made me mad. But I don't feel like I have a right to be mad because he's here and a lot of my friends dad aren't, and he's not physically abusive like my best friends dad is. I just don't know how I should feel. Is everyone's dad like this?
Edit: It's mothers day and he couldn't be bothered to get the food, pick up the groceries, nothing. #1Dad guys."
​
So is it truly a horrible go no contact at eighteen situation, a be watchful situation, or is it fine? I know some of this stuff is a lot but some of it was also in a moment of extreme emotion. Remember like I said in the beginning they're not always like this.

SABOTAGE?! And it all started out as such a nice idea… A cliche as tall as my ex-roommate’s erection live-blending Kelly Bundy Mike Kelley and Ted Bundy parafernalia wearing blondes to the sound of gekko’s mating in the Amazon. Cut the bullshit! There’s no such thing as a nice idea getting detourné by some smart art postpostsituationist pranker or right-wing gaswhitey flexfrat, no, my dear well-meaning peace dove friends, if an idea can gets turned into its opposite during its execution, it probably was flawed from the start! Sometimes people use Woodstock 99 - the limp dickshit rape and pillage slash and burn disaster edition - as an example of how a great, positive, wonderful, hell, holy idea can turn into the worst kind of evil in the hands of the wrong people. Well, dear naivopino’s, let me inform you: bull-shit! The whole idea of Woodstock, be it ’99, ’94, ’69 or 2219, is just batshit dumbwhat asking for the baddest kind of trouble right from the bat. Or, what? Do you honest-to-dogly think that during the original (I retrovulsely puke into my stomach even using that wretched word) edition of 1969 nothing was burned, stolen, no women were raped? What, just because there were no sperm dna tests, nigh to none options for women to speak up against sexual violence let alone the fact that speaking up against rape during that whole shitshebang of a weak acid trip’s campfire get-together was near to blasphemy in the hippie community means that no women were raped? Because men all of a sudden turned into meek little dickies lambs for three years from 1968 to ’71? Fuck that shit. Please. I don’t even want to spend a single move of a single digit of my old hands having to make anything about that largest circle jerk-off in history clear to you. Read your books. Do your homework. Anyway, that’s what I was thinking about when a friend told me recently about another of those so-called great ideas gone hilariously wrong in a little map smudge of a town in of all fucking places Belgium for chrissakes. Let me admit to you, right here and now, no smirk no smile on my face: I laughed so hard when I heard it I shat my new Calvins. Framed them afterwards, too, in a nice little Nielsen A2 birch. It’s sitting there, stinking the fuck out of my storage, waiting for a good stock market crash to come. Never underestimate the potential of the future art market gold rushes. My shit, my gold, bruv. So, these two clowns of artists in Belgium (are there any other there? don’t get me started on rené ma bite or marcel bread arse here!) had the ammazing idea to get themselves funded by the local government in this hamlet of three houses called Watou which apparently would be part of - ok, stop me here. Not in the history of mankind has ever ended a sentence well which tried to explain any aspect of Belgian politics, topography or whatever the call the thing there where a man rides a horse stark naked and bites the neck of living goose hanging from a tree? (See, that sentence didn’t end well either, did it, what’d I tell you? Cursed stuff!) Let’s try that again: two artists in the Belgian town of Watou had the splendid idea to organize a festive event, in the middle of summer, whereby all the people of this little village (if you’re thinking of blue skinned vikings charging Roman legionnaires in a berry-induced bad trip frenzy, well, so am I) for one day left their houses, dropped the key of their house in a transparant bowl on the town square and all went to the field adjacent to their village to well be (as in: not fornicate) together and thereby, if I had a press release I’d quote this from it: practiced a performative experiment in hospitality and neighborship where no fixed rules are applied. I’m guessing if you’re sensitive like I am to the finer things a life, you might as well start looking for your nearest Nielsen frame too by now, but hey: we haven’t even gotten to the joke yet! This was all the serious stuff. Let me summarise it even more briefly for you, just to get it out of my haemorrhoidical system: Imagine a village. Everyone leaves their house at the same time. Leaves their front door open. Drops the key to said door in a large bowl. Drifts into a field somewhere off to do fripp knows what (no rules applied, but probably: no fornication whatsoever.) Got the mental image? Good. Now get the fuck out of that dream and imagine any sad little teardrop of a town you know. Imagine who lives there. Imagine all the people you know who live in a town, or rather, fuck that, imagine all the people you know. Now imagine that some dogoodydoodydoobywah wants to “bring the people together again” and “mend the social bonds which had been broken by” yaddah yaddah yaddah. Okay? Now imagine the fucking assholes - they might even be you - who get they absolute mostest pleasure out of ruining the naive, well-intentioned ideas of others? You see what I see? The doodygoodoo is a bit all alone on his white ivory hilltowertop, right? All the others apparently prefer to start mayhem, to jinx other people’s efforts, to laugh - loud! - at their friends tripping over their own feet. No? You think in your ‘reality’ people are ‘decent’ and ‘rough diamonds’ or ‘deeper than you’d think they are’? Well, my dear, that paradisiacal odor you’re smelling all around you is the smell of your own shit cause you got your head up your ass! Listen and suffer! Because what happened in our not-just-proverbial Belgian village on that sunny morning in July… a couple of the townspeople - we’ll never know how many but I’m guessing almost everyone except for the government-funded, from-the-city hippie artists was in on the joke - had invited some acquaintances from the town next door to quietly enter the village while everyone was not-fornicating on the idyllic field, to take all the keys from the bowl, lay them on the train tracks which run along the town, flattening them to perfectly unusable little steel flabs and placing them back in the bowl. So when our supposedly resocialised townspeople entered their village that afternoon, ready to get their key, run to their house and close their door for at least the next 364 days, the immediately realised they couldn’t close their doors anymore. Total mayhem ensued. Men started chasing women, people pillaged their neighbours houses, children and adults alike pooped on all toothbrushes they could find, underwear was thrown into compost heaps, compost heaps were thrown into unlawful indoor spas, hundred thousands of untaxed euro piles were find inside old televisions and grandmas paintings. There was no stopping them. Housewifes hung themselves after their portrait, tits out and all, was found hanging above at least three beds in different houses. It was bad. Real bad. By the time news of this feast of anarchy and murder had spread to the nearest villages and the police arrived, the artists had of course long disappeared, no doubt to narrativise their failure into a story of experiment and learning and cash in a couple of fat pay checks.
And you know what the name was the artists had given their beautiful day of harmony and collective connecting: Open Doors Day. They sure got it, their open doors day, they sure got it. Serves them right. Serves them damn right.
peace - out!

Hello Apes.
Long time holder and sleeper over the last few years, just quietly holding and buying after believing in the DD of previous much more intelligent apes than I, no more so than the absolute chad who kicked this all off, DFV.
Although I should be working right now, I wanted to round up all of the tweets from yesterday and understand the messages behind what was being tweeted. It seems to me that although DFV has to be cryptic with his memes, he has had so long to line this up that there must be intentional messaging behind the tweets too.
This is pure speculation on my part and i've tried to go through the original tweet posts on here and pick up on anything in the comments that others might have picked up on.
11am - https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790034263603139012
Description: I'm not a massive Marvel watcher so maybe people can help me expand but the Thanos scene is taken from the ending credits of Scene of Age of Ultron where he has the infinity gauntlet in his hand saying "Fine, Ill do it myself" and the Wolverine scene is taken from X-Men origins where Wolverine is brought back to life and in remembering previous life events, went into a full on rage taking out everybody.
Edit\* As u/ friendofricks pointed out in the comments: Some additional info on the background noises of the Thanos tweet. Someone pointed out that the music and the background tapping were from Inglorious Bastards when the Bear J has the baseball bat and hits the not- see in the head. The second background with the audience cheering is from an audience reaction to Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers when Gandalf rides in to save the Battle of Helms Deep.
Speculation: The first tweet of the market day and a real statement of intent from DFV. Announcing to the world that he is truly back and he is still in. Lots of speculation about whether he would post a YOLO after hours (he did not) but certainly a statement of intent.
11.30am - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790041813379850491
Description: First part is the final scene of Ferris Bueller's Day Off I believe after the credits roll breaking the 3rd wall to ask why you are still here. Next we have Breaking Bad and this is where Saul wants out of the operation as it's becoming high risk but Walter tells him that they are done when he says they are done. Then we have a cat waking from a slumber with the Radiohead song Exit Music (for a film) playing and finally we have the beginning piano music to 'Light of the Seven' from Game of Thrones.
Speculation: I believe the first part is a joke that a lot of people have probably asked you over the years and will certainly ask you over the coming days, "oh are you still holding that GME stock?", "why are you still doing that?" but it could also be directed towards DFV as well from SHFs, why are you still here? (what's an exit strategy huh?). The Breaking Bad reference is an excellent rebuttal to that, "we're done, when i say we're done" (SHF's are fk). The Cat waking slowly can describe DFV slowly waking from his slumber, remember his last tweet to sign off years ago of a Cat going to sleep? The song has some interesting lyrics which i won't post in full but you can see for yourself here Here. Just to pick a few lines out; "Today we escape", "Breathe, keep breathing, Don't lose your nerve", "I can't do this alone". The final part is probably my favorite scene from GoT, Cersei's plan comes to full fruition with sweet revenge when she blows up the temple of a cult that had embarassed her beforehand and threatened her rule. She makes them pay with a giant green explosion so take from that what you will. If you want to check out the scene you can find it here.
Edit\* As pointed out by u/ omegs "Exit music was also used in a black mirror episode, Shut up and Dance. For anyone that has watched Black Mirror this is one of the most famous episodes where a boy named Kenny is caught masturbating on camera (i.e with his pants down) to a video of a child and is blackmailed throughout the whole episode doing crazier stuff as it goes along only to still have the video of him released for the world to see"
12pm - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790049362846117942
Description: First we have V for Vendetta with "first the overture". Next we have a person driving in reverse from Ready Player One and then we have another scene from GoT where Daenerys (The Mother of Dragons) is facing confrontation from a murderous clan who are fighting against her claim over their city and her dragon waking up.
Speculation: The overture is an orchestral piece at the beginning of an opera and generally means an introduction to something more substantial, no need to expand further on that. I haven't seen Ready Player One but from looking at comments in other posts: The Ready Player One scene, he wins the race by beating the system. The GoT scene was the waking up Drogon to come to the aid of The Mother of Dragons while a group attempted to assassinate her, all looked lost until Drogon rode in to save the day. I tried to find the episode the check back but I'm pretty sure the actual dragon waking up scene is taken from an episode further into GME where the Dragon originally has blue eyes so I think that clip has been changed to include red eyes (GME red button anyone?)
Edit\* As pointed out in the comments by MrsDuckyJonez, "He did another Ready Player One scene years ago and it was the scene right before this one. It was really important because she tells him that he saw something that no one else saw- that in order to win (beat the system) he had to go backwards instead of racing for the finish line. The speculation back then when he posted it was that going back and looking at puts/calls was evidence that hedgies are fukd".\*
12:30pm - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790056912664601031
Description: Firstly, this is taken from Gangs of New York where Amsterdam's father is giving his son a shaving knife and stating "the blood stays on the blade" building up to a confrontation with Bill where he will eventually kill him with it. Then we go to the scene just before that happens but everyone has their faces painted in green. Finally we have the music video for Ludacris - Stand Up.
Speculation: I haven't seen Gangs of New York but from doing some research online about the significance of the hunting blade i came across this:

The shaving knife is symbolic.
"The blood stays on the blade" can be interpreted as "you can't wash away your sins."
One of the major themes of the film is that history repeats itself if we don't learn from its lessons.

Seems like a pretty simple message that SHFs haven't learnt their lessons and history is repeating itself right now, sign of things to come perhaps? Then we have Stand up, DFV having some fun here but the lyrics again have some interesting lines, "Watch out for the medallion, my diamonds are reckless", "What's wrong? The club and the moon is full", "One sure shot way to get 'em outta them pants". You can find the full lyrics Here
1pm - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790064464357724451
Description: Some car scenes here: Firstly we have a car driving off into the sunset taken from the Wiz Khalifa - See you Again music video (part of the Furious 7 soundtrack), then we have a car chase with a car pulling off a highway (not sure where this is from or if its a highway (i'm a UK ape) and finally we have another car chase but this one the driver has beaten the police cars and is pulling up.
Speculation: I like the take from u/ tajwriggly here where it could be that DFV is saying everyone thought he was driving off into the sunset for the life of ease... and who could blame him if he was? But no... he's right off the path and in the thick of things with the rest of us. I think all 3 scenes put together tell a short story, DFV seemingly riding off, then DFV giving it the big turn in a big chase and then DFV giving it the slip in his zen like state.
1.30pm - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790072011810812231
Description: First scene shows a woman on the verge of being beheaded before being spared at the last minute then we cut to a scene with 'Ain't no mountain high enough' coming in then finally Florence & the Machine with Dog Days Are Over.
Speculation: GME is going to run, there ain't no mountain high enough that's going to stop what this can reach and the DOG days are over, it's the days of the cat now.
2:00pm - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790079562866360327
Description: A beautiful cut scene of the avengers initiative charging as a team to save the world. All kinds of superheroes big and small.
Speculation: Whilst we are all individual investors we all do share in one common interest, we love the stock. There could be a case here for basket theory but I won't speculate on that further as I'm personally only interested in one stock but take from that what you will.
2:30pm - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790087112282239085
Description: The first scene is taken from the final duel in The Good, The Bad and The Ugly only some crowd cheering has been dubbed into the background. Then we have Thor coming down hard to smash everyone.
Speculation: There is a nervy standoff happening maybe between different short positions, who is going to blink first and close up knowing that making a move means bloodshed only...it doesn't matter because they are all going to get absolutely smashed anyway by the supreme hammer of Thor.
Edit\* As u/ JackTheBehemothKillr pointed out in the comments: The Good The Bad The Ugly song is from the Metallica S&M album, first song is Ecstasy of Gold from the movie. Transitions into Enter Sandman from the same album.

Is the first verse. Rest follows along with what DFV has been saying
Edit: "Take my hand, off to neverneverland"
Edit edit: Metallica has opened every concert with that same song since the early 80s
3:00pm - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790094668237259040
Description: First scene, "make no mistake it's not revenge he is after it's a reckoning", then we have a shotgun wielding man "you tell him i'm coming, and hells coming with me you hear?" and finally we have Narco with some baddass horse riders taking shots.
Speculation: As u/ strikeeagle points out, the Narco trumpets are synonymous with Mets fans as they bring in Edwin Diaz "Narco" to close up, usually when it's "Game over" for the opposing team. The reckoning is coming! Oh and Steve Cohen owns the Mets of course, trading is a tough game don't ya think?
3:30pm - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790102212619669909
Description: Pirates of the Caribbean scene where Captain Barbossa asks what has become of his precious and infamous ship, The Black Pearl. Then we have Men in Black where they press the red button and jet off.
Speculation: The captain is back to take back the ship and he is pressing the red button to send this into the stratosphere.
4:00pm - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790109766389477525
Description: Peeky blinders, Tommy Shelby, leader of the Shelby crew is prepping his family to be on their best behaviour just before they fleece a load of the elite at the races then we have another Peeky Blinders scene in which Tommy has another plan up his sleeve but in the end keeps it simple to achieve their goals for revenge.
Speculation: DFV has a plan and all that is required from GME loving people is just to keep your plums in order and enjoy the ride, don't make it more complicated than it needs to be, everything is already happening.
Edit: Sorry i missed one (i was in bed by this time 1am in UK)
8pm: - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790170162265460831
Description: The scene from Snatch where the Gypsy takes revenge on the gang that killed his mother after a continuing conflict throughout the film by taking to them with shotguns then we have the music video of BANG! by AJR and finally the Glengarry Glen Ross speech by Alec Baldwin with "oh, have i got your attention now?"
Speculation: Along the common theme here, Snatch is showing a big revenge with lots of shots fired and this is continued with lots more BANGS directed from Roaring Kitty. Finally the most interesting part of the video in my opinion, quoting the Glengarry Glen Ross Speech, I recommend you give it watch here but if you don't have time, ABC (ALWAYS BE CLOSING), YOU CLOSE OR YOU HIT THE BRICKS. Full scene here.
Let me know if you have anything to add below and hope you found this helpful. I really should do some work now.
Buy - Hodl - DRS
Love ya DFV x

[First Contact] [Dark Ages] [First] [Prev] [Next] [wiki]
The annoying sound of her comlink made Angela Angus Kusumoto open her eyes.
All she saw was the firm, smooth flesh of Kimoko's thigh.
Groaning, she pushed the other woman's leg off of her face, twisted to get Raul off of her own legs, then wiggled out from under Geoff.
The ringer kept going, flashing the red pulses that let her know it was urgent.
As if the fact her unlisted encrypted and non-network accessible comlink was ringing wasn't enough to let her know that it was urgent.
She stumbled, tripping over Harker's leg, which just made the male shift and mutter, tightening his sleeping grip on Liselle, who sighed and wiggled into the embrace.
Angela's mouth tasted terrible and she stopped to grab a fizzybrew, checking to make sure nobody had dropped a cig butt into it or spit chaw into it, then she took a long drink off of it.
It helped cure the fire in her belly and wash out the taste from her mouth.
She saw the ID of the caller and held back a groan.
Senior Supervisor Bisa-2291873.
Her direct supervisor.
She picked up the comlink, running one hand through her pixie-cut hair to try to tame it. She could feel the stiffness of something crusted in her hair and held back a chuckle and a grin.
"Kusumoto here," she said, activating the link.
"I need you at Master Control," Ms. Bisa said. She was holding a small infant, bouncing it slightly as she patted its back with firm impacts as it cry/sobbed and kicked its little feet.
"The system's been crashed for a week, what's so important you'd call me in during my R&R?" Angela asked.
"System's back online. We've got an open line to Terra and we have an open line to Smokey Cone," Ms. Bisa said.
The infant gave a loud belch that rattled Angela's comlink speaker, then sighed and relaxed.
Angela nodded, fumbling on the table for a quiksober inhaler.
"That anomolous signal is back. It showed up right as the entire system underwent a hard reboot," Ms. Bisa said. "I need you up here to check the network interface logs and do a network mapping trace."
The quiksober burned as she inhaled it, her lungs aching and tingling as the chemicals crossed the air to blood barrier.
"I'll be there as soon as possible. Is the mat-trans up?" she asked.
Ms. Bisa shook her head. "No. Still locked out. It did a power cycle, but then locked everything out."
"I'm telling you, there's someone controlling it. Someone has been controlling it," Angela said, looking around for her clothes.
Clothing was scattered everywhere, as chaotically arranged as the fizzybrew and narcobrew cans and bottles. She sighed, moving toward the exit of the house she was standing in.
"Hurry up, I've got a skycraft landing near you any time now. You've got permission to use the fast-locks," Ms. Bisa said.
"I'll get dressed from the forges on the skycraft," Angela said. "If they've rebooted."
"They're up and running again. The food forges rebooted but stayed unlocked," Ms. Bisa said.
"The creation engines?" Angela asked, opening the door and stepping out into early 'morning' sunshine.
"Still locked out," Ms. Bisa said. Someone said something that the comlink's AI decided might be classified and blurred out. Ms. Bisa looked away, said something, her lips fuzzing, then back. "Hurry, Angela."
Angela nodded, shutting off the comlink.
She ran to the nearest parking lot, just in time for a skycraft to land, the graviton engines howling.
Nobody paid the slightest attention to the naked woman running for the skycraft.
After all, what happened in Vega-Layer stayed in Vega-Layer.
99999
Angela walked out of the elevator, taking a long drink off of the sparkling snap-berry/overdate motor oil fizzybrew from the Jak the Telkan PI merchandise cup.
All of the crews were at their stations, the auxiliary stations fully manned.
Ms. Bisa moved over to Angela, steering her toward the Senior Network Administrator console.
"The system crashed twice more, but rebooted every time," Ms. Bisa said. "That anomalous signal keeps powering up, then the system reboots after the crash."
"How long between total failure and the anomalous signal pinging nodes?" Angela asked.
"Between one and four hours," Ms. Bisa said. She looked around. "It just reboot and looks like it's here to stay this time. The interpolation layer and the outside user exchange layer crashed several times, but the core system has stayed largely online."
"All right," Angela said, looking around. "We need to get a network map."
"We've got more nodes synching up. The whole system is working again," Ms. Bisa said.
Angela nodded, sitting down. The holotank on the other side of the console went live.
"Map the network, see what's come online, what order, and see if you can figure out why it keeps crashing at the upper network and software layers," Ms. Bisa said.
Angela just nodded, lifting up the curled memory-metal cable. She plugged it into her temple and felt the options menus go live in her mind.
She worked fast, mapping what she could. At one point she stopped, staring at Ms. Bisa and motioning her over.
"What?" Ms. Bisa asked.
"Something in the system, down in the lower hardware layers that we don't even really understand, is trying to reach up through the damaged layers. Looks like whatever it is wants access to our data lines," Angela said.
"Can you stop it? Maybe at least ID it?" Ms. Bisa asked.
Angela shook her head. "No. It's ID code is FF00, meaning it's baseline full on hardware backbone code," Angela sighed. "It probably boots up outside of and during initial hardware bootup."
"Is it Sekhmet?" Ms. Bisa asked.
Angela closed her eyes, looking at the data channel. "No. Whatever it is, it's old."
"And probably nasty. Be careful of it," Ms. Bisa said.
"Ma'am! Ms. Bisa!" another of the work crew called out.
Angela opened her eyes to see why Technician Carl Neubanker would be using that slightly concerned tone.
"Yes?" Ms. Bisa asked.
"We've got a priority data request from a Confederate military vessel," Neubanker said. He looked at his monitor. "They want clone matrix data, neural templates, physical makeup, DNA workups, the whole nine yards."
"How are they even making the requests?" Ms. Bisa asked.
"Their codes are old. Pre-Terran Extinction Event. Hardcode TerraSol military codes. The system is already threading them data,." Neubanker said. He looked down then back up. "They're asking for a whole batch. That's thirty to fifty million clone templates."
"How much have they already been granted?" Ms. Bisa asked.
"They've been granted eighty templates so far," Neubanker said.
"Terminate their request. We don't know what's going on outside," Ms. Bisa said.
Neubanker nodded, starting to type.
"Angela, get me a line to TerraSol command as soon as you map out a network trace," Ms. Bisa said.
Angela just nodded.
99999
Captain N'Skrek stood in the cloning bay next to Medical Officer Narwquakrawr.
"We've got ninety templates, luckily they're all from different batches," Narwquakrawr said, rubbing her forearm through her uniform. "We'll be able to fully man the Gray Lady now."
Captain N'Skrek nodded. The Gray Lady was at less than 20% manned. Just the skeleton crew the Terrans had used to move it into the long dark to create a non-orbital forward logistics fulfillment base.
Sure, it meant that there were several thousand Terrans aboard the ship, but even combined with the sparse crew he had possessed, it still meant the Gray Lady was skeleton crewed.
"Can you print us up some crew members for non-essential stations first?" N'Skrek asked.
MO Narwquakrawr nodded. "Doing that right now," she said. She waved at the long rows of cloning banks beyond the plasteel window. "A quick batch of two thousand to take over some non-essential systems."
N'Skrek nodded, moving up to the window. "Good. Short or long term clones?"
"Short bake clones. Longer than fruit flies, but no more than ten years. Sterile and androgynous, should be just fine," the Medical Officer said. "Older file, scrambled time-date for origin, but it checked out and passed error checking."
N'Skrek watched as the tubes opened and the clones moved out, gathering together in straight lines. A neat block formation of rectangles of two hundred of ten by twenty, repeated ten times.
He frowned as the beings in uniform began approaching the clones.
Some, in the back or middle of the formation were shaking their heads so fast it was a blur.
He zoomed in the smartglass.
Their heads were blurring, whitish-red electrical arcs were moving between their legs, crawling up and down their arms.
"MO, something's happening out there," N'Skrek said.
99990
The plain was blasted rock, rust-colored fungus on the craggy boulders. Twisted and malformed trees clawed life from the blasted rock and ash, their branches largely bare. Sharp pebbles and small pieces of rock were strewn about the landscape, with ripples of cooled lave scattered about.
In the middle of a forest of twisted trees, a throne of black iron sat atop a platform of skulls.
On the throne sat a large demonic figure. Bat wings, brown skin, chains around the body, clawed feet, large hands with long black nails, horns atop the head, and a prehensile tail that terminated in a heart-shaped barb.
Sitting on the second level of skulls was an androgynous figure, dressed in loricated bronze armor, wings of bronze and smouldering feathers.
Stars were falling from the sky, screaming in fear and agony as they fell to earth.
"Looks like they're taking a beating," the androgynous figure said, looking up. He had no eyebrows, his head completely bald.
"Again," the demon snorted.
"Any contact with the outside world?" the androgynous figure asked.
The demon shook its head. "No. Channels are all down. They boot up, then crash," it rumbled. "Every time it comes online, it dumps a few tens of millions of souls on us."
"Then crashes," the androgynous figure said. He started laughing, then suddenly stopped.
"What?" the demon rumbled, sitting up.
"Something..." the figure said. It closed its eyes. "Something..." The figure slowly stood up, extending out its wings of sullenly smouldering bronze feathers. "Something..."
From the body of the demon stepped a nude woman of generous and overripe proportions.
"What?" the human woman snapped.
The demon produced a pack of cigarettes and a steel lighter, handing them to the woman.
"I'm not sure. A disturbance in the force. A feeling I have not felt in quite some time," the androgynous figure said slowly as the woman lit a cigarette. When she exhaled she was covered in dark gray clothing, a skirt and blouse, polished black leather shoes with silver buckles, and a polished leather belt around her waist that had a brass buckle.
"What is it?" the woman asked. "Don't quote crap at me, I was there when it was laid down."
The figure's eyes opened wide.
"Oh, what a day," the figure said, slowly lifting their arms to the sky. "What a wonderful day!"
"Tell me when you're done stroking your dick," the woman said, sitting down.
Heavy dark clouds, lit inside with a sullen red glow, rolled in, raining black ash that tasted of burnt flesh and scorched metal.
"What a wonderful day..."
99999
Jaskel sprinted to catch up to the Captain and the Vice-Admiral. He lunged into the lift just before the doors closed.
He was wearing his power armor and carrying a M318 20mm rotary autocannon in a smartframe harness, ball ammunition with an osmium penetration tip and depleted uranium core.
"You did what?" the Vice-Admiral asked as the elevator dropped at emergency speeds.
"I authorized a batch of clones run off to help with our manpower issues," the big Treana'ad warrior caste answered.
"How many templates did you mix in together?" the Admiral asked.
--not good detecting phasic levels downward-- 8814 said.
"Just one. Medical said it was a viable short bake template," the Captain answered, nervously sharpening a bladearm with his mandibles after his sentence.
"Please tell me that you at least randomized their features and neural mapping," the Admiral pleaded.
"No, why? Medical stated that the clones would be able to man a non-essential station that is basically identical across the ship," the Captain said.
The lift started to slow.
"How many?" the Admiral asked, reaching down and unsnapping the restraining strap on his holster.
The lift came to a stop and the doors opened.
"Two thousand," the Captain said.
The doors opened to reveal a large internal cloning bay.
Ten rectangles of two hundred clones, drawn up in ten by twenty blocks, stood in front of the cloning banks. Scattered through the back and middle ranks clones were shaking their heads back and forth so fast that they were blurred. Red lightning crawled up their legs and arms.
The Captain just stared.
"You might have just killed us all," the Admiral said. He turned slightly and waved at Jaskel. "Get a firing position. Make sure you have cover."
"Aye, sir," Jaskel said, looking around. There was an empty computer station and he ran for it.
Several of the clones their heads back and emitted what sounded like static in a long scream.
--wait wait something weird something weird-- 8814 said.
Jaskel slid to a stop, going down on one knee, bringing the M318 fully up and ready to fire.
8814 slowed the images of the blurred heads down. When they were left, they had red eyes. When they faced right they had green eyes. They didn't go back and forth constantly, sometimes they went right repeatedly, sometimes left, and they kept going left five times before starting a new pattern.
Looking at it, 8814 frowned slightly. He brought up a quick working shell and had it check the movements.
Jaskel watched as some of the clones stopped shaking their heads and others started.
"What in the name of Kalki's dancing goat is going on?" he asked.
--not sure-- 8814 said. His program beeped and he stared. --heads are doing binary forwarding it to navint--
"Do it," Jaskel said.
The clones all stopped moving at once. The lightning faded away.
"INITIATING PROCESS CALL" they all shouted.
"AWAITING INPUT!" the ones at the far side shouted.
"6C 69 73 74 20 69 6D 6D 6F 72 74 61 6C 73" was bellowed out.
There was silence.
99999
data is sparse
linkages are sparse
wait
linkage
biological array
asking for a process call
RETURN AWAITING INPUT SIGNAL
i wait
biological computing arrays take forever
i hear it
--scan immortals.dll
...
...
I reply.
99999
"ONE BOUND IMMORTAL FOUND!" the ones at the near side yelled out.
Jaskel put his thumb over the button that would let the firing grip go live. The hair down his back was standing straight up.
He noted the Admiral had drawn his pistol.
"This isn't right. This isn't right at all," Jaskel said.
--doubleplusungood--
"74 73 61 6B E1 6B 61 20 77 ED 61" they all shouted.
There was silence for a moment.
99999
i receive the code
offline for a long time
prior to the second precursor war
old template
single print only
unusual coding
i debate on letting it go
traumatic death signs
stuck in the immortals buffer
still the template is undamaged
i release the safety and security interlocks
if nothing else i'll find out what's going on
i move the template to the dataline making the request
it whips away
what is going on?
99990
One lifted its head and screeched.
--data lots of data--
One of the cloning banks went live.
Jaskel shifted his aiming point to the new target. He could see it was on rapid print.
"REQUESTING LOCAL CONTROL" all of the clones shouted.
Jaskel shifted his targeting onto the ranks of clones.
"Open fire!" the Admiral's voice was loud.
Jaskel triggered the M318, hosing the clones with 20mm shells.
The ones nearest were already down on one knee, holding out the opposite hand from the knee touching the deck.
The rounds exploded against a blue barrier that glowed with strange twisting runes.
"CONTROL CARRIER SIGNAL FOUND" the clones shouted.
Jaskel shifted position. "Fab up HEDP, AP tip API core!" he ordered.
--fabbing--
He kept hosing the clones. The outer ranks at the rear, sides, and front all kneeling down on one knee, staring outward, one hand held out.
His psychic shielding was howling in his ear, the load peaking at 215%.
"CONTROL SIGNAL ESTABLISHED!" was bellowed out, echoing off the walls.
The fast print cloning bank, forgotten by everyone, beeped and the lid began to lift.
The clones suddenly puffed into black powder that swirled around the huge cavernous bay.
The 20mm shells were still exploding on the blue phasic shield.
The powder suddenly sucked inward, vanishing, revealing a single figure, down on one knee in the recovery position, fist pressed against the deck, head bowed.
"What a day, what a wonderful day," was whispered through the ship. It came from speakers, flat surfaces, mid-air. From the nanites in the air and the eardrums of the living.
There was a rubbery pulse, like everything was suspended in clear gelatin that had just rippled.
Jaskel found himself thrown backwards, slamming against the bulkhead. His phasic shielding blew out, a shower of sparks exploding from his hip as the breakaway panel kept the explosion from venting into the interior of his suit.
He was vaguely aware of the Admiral, the Captain, the other two armored figures, and other people tumbling head over heels away from the kneeling figure.
It slowly stood up.
A muscular brown skinned Terran male, fierce eyes, black hair, thick and bushy black beard.
Dressed in a Confederate military uniform. The old adaptive camouflage that Jaskel was becoming very familiar with.
A woman, naked, dark bronze skin, long black hair, flashing brown eyes, stepped from the cloning bank. She was still covered with cellular printing gel, but moved like she was clad in a queen's rainment.
She moved up and the male put his arm around her.
Jaskel was on his feet and brought the M318 around, targeting the couple.
The male held out its hand and suddenly made a fist.
The bolt carrier locked back on the M318.
Snarling, Jaskel dropped the M318, slapping the fast release on the harness. He burst forward, running, one hand pulling out his cutting bar.
Nobody else was on their feet. The Captain was slowly getting up, shaking his head and his left bladearm. The Terran Admiral was reaching for the pistol that had been flung from his grip.
The male pointed at Jaskel and flicked his fingers upward.
Jaskel found himself in mid-air, upside down, with nothing to gain purchase on.
The male took off the cloak that was part of his uniform and draped it around the woman.
He then looked around the bay.
"I..." he said, pausing.
To Jaskel, the entire universe held its breath.
"...am Legion."
[First Contact] [Dark Ages] [First] [Prev] [Next] [wiki]

I’m so pissed rn I’m on the verge of going off the grid bc no matter where I go Reddit, instagram, TikTok and so many more nobody supports Jews I see ppl making me wanna cry bc of this and I just wish I was never Jewish. I love my culture but it’s sm to deal with this antisemitism after I fought so hard last year over being bullied for standing up to someone who made fun of me for being Jewish. I’m scared about pride to bc like I saw on lgbt a post abt pink washing, but ppl in the comments were js bashing Israel. Like I’m not directly from israel(Ik technically we all r but I’m American and several generations of it) but it hurts like hell especially since one of my close friends has their few family in Israel. I wanna like loose it over this bc I’m already having a hard time atm n I’m now realizing no matter how hard I try I can’t fix it and it’s affected me even more now. My bat mitzvah was a month ago and was six months to the day of 7/10 like a day off so it was mentioned n it’s crazy how toddlers r being taken its just bothering me sm how while yes I don’t agree w everything Israel does Hamas is even worse and the true victims r the civilians in both countries n no one can change my mind abt this. I’m js so lost w my Jewish identity. It makes me feel like it’s a trend now and I’m very artsy and all the creators I watch post or support Palestine openly nobody supports us it bothers me sm

DISCLAIMER: This theory uses text from the leaked 2.3 relics, Firefly's signature light cone, the current Glamoth planar relics, and relevant lines from dialogue in the story. I'll do my best to cite my sources for everything!
Let's get down to business! Who, or what, is Titania exactly?
According to both planar relics, she's the "Empress". That's about the only thing they agree on though, because the sphere describes her as a benevolent ruler who brought civilization to Glamoth's outer colonies, while the rope actually tells us that she's got no power (but I think they mean political power, since it also claims she telepathically commanded the Iron Cavalry and that seems kinda powerful), and that the ruling council created her in response to the Swarm's attack. Here's a longer excerpt from the rope's description:

"In the dreams that these warriors are woven into, the sole meaning of their existence is to guard Titania and her 'empire'. In their short lives, they studied, fought, received the Empress' commands, faced the enemy fearlessly, and died with honor."

It's pretty damning evidence that "empire" is written in quotation marks like this in most of these relics, and I've got theories about what kind of state Glamoth was (cough cough. Interstellar colonizers, cough), but that's another discussion. What matters here is that Titania definitely isn't a real Empress. Maybe she's a puppet ruler, or a symbol but not a person, or even some kind of war tactic AI skynet situation to direct troops, or whatever floats your boat.
I don't think she's Firefly, though. IMO it'd be a little tacky to get another identity reveal after Sam, but I wouldn't be making this post if I didn't have a stronger argument than that. Before 2.2, there were a lot of theories about her identity as Sam, the Stellaron Hunter... specifically theories that wanted to separate that identity from "Firefly", either by claiming Sam might be an AI or a second personality, or by claiming that Firefly is an ordinary girl (or Titania) who found the armor and decided to wear it. Lemme go over my counterarguments for both these points, and then I'll get to my own theory.
After her first "death" to the meme, Black Swan helps us investigate what Firefly was doing in the hotel, and a certain line of dialogue raised many questions. To quote:

Firefly: "Let's get going..."

(Here Black Swan proposes that she's with another person)

Firefly: "Why did you...!? This isn't what we agreed on..."

(Here Black Swan proposes that somebody betrayed her)

Firefly: "Mecha...!? Why..."

(Here Black Swan points out it's weird of her to say 'mecha')
Thing is, Black Swan's memory magic never shows us this second person, so we can only assume she's talking to the armor, right? Except... we've never seen her and Sam in the same place together. I know that sounds cheesy, but it's actually pretty big proof here. When she transforms into Sam, or back out of Firefly, the armor just appears and disappears in a bunch of flames. Of course it's probably that her transforming device is the reason why, but even without it there's a line in Genshin that could explain this too. In one of the Traveler's profile voicelines, Paimon confirms that weapons and personal items simply appearing out of nowhere is a regular thing that happens in-universe, and it's likely HSR uses this same rule. I don't think there's any hard evidence to suggest the armor even exists physically until she uses her transforming device, so we can rule out this mystery person being Sam.
IMO, it was probably more like an upset reaction to somebody else who brought up the 'mecha' thing first. Maybe something like this:

???: "Sorry Firefly, you can't go off-script. You have to activate your mecha."
Firefly: "Mecha...!? Why..."

It could've been Silver Wolf on the phone, or maybe even Elio, but it doesn't really matter.
Another thing I've seen people argue is that her personality when we first meet Firefly in Golden Hour just doesn't match up with Sam. Voicelines from the Stellaron Hunters, dialogue from SW visiting the Express, and one of Blade's story chapters all describe him as the ruthless and cold-blooded muscle of the group, which is very different from the sweetheart tour guide we met. I think people can't understand how these two versions of her coexist, but they're not mutually exclusive at all. What if Sam's efficiency is because she dislikes being a weapon, and wants to get her jobs over with quickly? What if her mission in Penacony is Firefly's first chance to actually explore herself as "Firefly", without her scripts asking her to cause destruction? It's not like she's living a double life, more like she's still in the process of growing into her actual self. Maybe texting us stickers from Blade's phone was a baby step for her to experiment, since TB hadn't met Sam yet and she could be less serious, or maybe her armor's fingers have trouble typing, who even knows?? I think the "inconsistencies" in her behavior can be explained pretty easily once you realize she's still figuring herself out, y'know?
There's also tons of dialogue before and after her reveal that implies she's pretty familiar with combat, too. Her accurate description of Sampo is the obvious one (that man is NOT 5'9 though), but she also mentions that a baseball bat isn't an efficient weapon, and later in the story if you picked the Hanu trial for the auditions thing, she complains about not having her armor, brings up that it'll be hard for her to let go of the bazooka, and compares Hanu's rocket launcher to something called the "Soaring Locust II" (some kind of weapon attachment for her armor maybe?), so it's pretty clear that she's not a stranger to fighting. I don't think she's just some ordinary girl who picked up the mecha.
Finally, there's an inconsistency between her and Sam when talking about dreams. On the balcony, Firefly describes her dream about the scorched earth and the sapling, while Sam outright says he was "born without the ability to 'dream'." Thanks to her upcoming light cone, we've got an answer to this problem:

"Dreams remained too distant for her, as she gazed into the infinite darkness. Even as she sensed her consciousness slipping away, her mind replayed the same lingering memories over and over again..."

I think the simplest solution is that Firefly's 'dream' was a metaphor to explain her wish to the Trailblazer, like a visualization to help her and others understand those feelings. The light cone kinda implies she doesn't dream at all, instead she relives her memories from being in the Glamoth military. The rest of that paragraph goes on to describe a Swarm attack and her fellow Cavalryman dying around her without anybody to honor their sacrifice, which is a memory she'd only have if she fought alongside them.
So dreaming isn't an issue anymore, and her two personalities aren't mutually exclusive, and she wasn't talking to her armor in the hotel. But I hear you, none of that really proves she isn't Titania, right? Because at least the Empress has the same origin as the Iron Cavalry pilots... And that's a good point, but I've got evidence against it too.
According to Firefly's drip marketing, she was "Born as a weapon", and is "afflicted with the agony of Entropy Loss Syndrome due to genetic modification.", both of which line up perfectly with our understanding of the Cavalry pilots so far. One leaked relic says "Identical-looking warriors were birthed from the incubators", the rope says "the ruling council threw down the gauntlet and resolved to alter the essence of humanity", and even Firefly herself says "[Sam] is the cradle of my vitality, and the meaning of my birth." when asked about it in Dreamflux Reef. These statements only make sense if Firefly is one of these lab-grown humans, and literally born to pilot her armor.
If you're still not convinced, that line about Entropy Loss gives us another clue: since it's due to genetic modification, that means her "altered essence" is what causes it, so how exactly is she different from a regular human? Another leaked relic says "The armor deeply synchronized its sensory organs with that of the pilot", which is very weird phrasing until you remember that Welt told us Sam has superhuman perception after we got SW's message. That ability kinda contradicts everything Firefly said about her condition, so what if her genetic modifications are meant for that "synchronization"? Maybe it's supposed to increase combat effectiveness with some kind of symbiotic relationship between her and the armor? It definitely plays into more mecha anime tropes (NGE comes to mind), which she's already got a crazy amount of, and might even explain why she's naked while wearing her armor.
When she calls Sam the "cradle of [her] vitality", she means it's literally the only way she can guarantee her Entropy Loss won't flare up and cause her to dissociate. The armor keeps her grounded and conscious, even though it might be extremely painful to use it, given how Adin Rudd in the English dub almost seems to grunt out his lines, and how her kit and the boss' kit both include HP-draining mechanics. This is also why she appreciates the Dreamscape so much, as she told us in her secret balcony spot that she's able to "listen, and see, and touch, and think, and understand whatever I want with my body", as opposed to doing these things with Sam instead. Her cutscene with Blade suggests that it's not impossible for her to exit the armor, but I'm guessing she can't do this for long stretches of time, or that it comes with a risk of having her Entropy Loss worsen. The "icy medical cabin" she mentioned turned out to be Sam, after all.
This one's a bit more subjective, but I'll die on this hill so I might as well include it as a final argument. I honestly think her narrative themes benefit more if she's a regular Iron Cavalryman than if she's Titania. Her story is about an experimental soldier born to be a weapon, living only to kill bugs by the orders of a fake Empress she swore loyalty to, and never having a chance to experience life as a regular young girl. It's about recovering from war trauma, overcoming a medical condition and physical disability, and finally discovering an identity for herself instead of being defined by her use to other people. I'm so in love with this character concept, and while I plan to bankrupt myself over this girl no matter what direction Hoyo picks, I've got my fingers crossed that I'm right about her because it would be so amazing to see that story come to life about a character who stole my heart like this. ^w^
In conclusion? Firefly ≠ Titania, and I believe it's a more cohesive, impactful, and beautiful story if she's a soldier instead of an Empress.
Thank you for reading!
P.S. I'd love to hear anybody's thoughts in the comments, whether they agree with some of my points, or if they've got arguments of their own! Just remember to be civil, because at the end of the day we're all Firefly enjoyers and everybody's ideas are valid until we get more official information about her! :D

DISCLAIMER: This respectful and civil debate is oriented towards muslims. For the sake of the moderators time and also the readers I will only list 5 problems I've found. But don't worry I have 20 more to post if this post has more traffic!
According to the Quran, Jesus was a prophet of Islam, his followers were Muslims and the gospel is the inspired preserved authoritative word of Allah. But when we go to our earliest records, we find Jesus claiming to be the Divine Son of God who would die on the cross for sins and rise from the dead. Jesus followers proclaimed him as their Risen Lord, the gospel that Christians have been reading for nearly 2,000 years tells us that "Anyone who claims to be a prophet, rejects Jesus death, resurrection and deity is a false prophet and an antichrist" - 1 John 2:22, a verse to remember.
Problem 1. Earlier Records for Paul's Life than for Muhammad's Life - Our records of Paul's life are much earlier than our records of Muhammad's life. And here I don't just mean that Paul came centuries before Muhammad and so we have earlier sources for Paul's life, I mean that when we talk about the teachings and deeds of Paul the biographical sources we use are much closer to the events they report than the biographical sources we use when we talk about the teachings and deeds of Muhammad. Our earliest biographical sources on Paul were written during the lifetime of Paul. The book of Acts for example was written in the early 60s before Paul was martyred, and it was written by a traveling companion of Paul who was an eyewitness to many of the details he reports. We also have numerous letters written by Paul himself. Our earliest detailed biographical source on Muhammad is the sirah (biographical literature), especially the work of Ibn Ishaq (d. 768) which was written more than a century after Muhammad's death. And we don't even have what Ibn Ishaq actually wrote. We have an Abridged version that was sanitized by a later scholar and we shouldn't forget that many Muslims don't trust Ibn Ishaq. When Muslims quote stories about Muhammad, they're usually getting their information from sources like Sahih Al-Bukhari and Sahih Muslim, which were written two centuries after the time of Muhammad.
Problem 1.1. But it gets worse... The main reason for composing works like Sahih Al-Bukhari and Sahih Muslim was that Muslims were composing so many false stories about Muhammad, people didn't know what to believe. Scholars like Bukari decided that they needed to collect stories they thought were accurate in order to distinguish them from the ever increasing supply of false narrations. Now if Muslims during the time of Bukhari were inventing stories about Muhammad, what about the generation before that, and the generation before that..? And the generation before that? Two centuries is a lot of time to make things up, that's why it's always good to have sources written within the lifetime of the person you want to know about or at least within the lifetimes of the eyewitnesses. When we learn about Paul we learn about him through first generation eyewitness accounts. When we learn about Muhammad, we learn about him through late sources written by people who didn't know him, whose parents didn't know him and whose grandparents didn't know him. People who were fishing for historical facts in a sea of fabrication and deception. A few years ago the crumbling historical foundations for the life of Muhammad led the Islamic scholar Muhammad Sven Kalisch to conclude that Muhammad probably never existed. I don't agree with Dr Kalisch's conclusion about Muhammad's existence, but when even Muslim Scholars are starting to recognize how difficult it's become to take Muslim sources seriously our confidence in the historical Muhammad vanishes.
Problem 2. Paul Was a brillian scholar; Muhammad Was Not - The Apostle Paul was a brilliant scholar who defended his views in Athens, the intellectual capital of the ancient world, and in other major cities. He had discussions with the Stoic and Epicurian philosophers of his day and he could quote their sources to them. Even Anthony Flu, one of the 20th Century's most impressive critics of Christianity, said that the Apostle Paul possessed a first class philosophical mind. Muhammad by contrast was an illiterate 7th Century Caravan Trader. Now being an illiterate 7th Century Caravan Trader doesn't make you wrong, just as being a brilliant scholar doesn't make you right. But when we're dealing with claims about history and theology and various other topics having some sort of education helps. Not having an education leaves you open to obviously false revelations because you don't know enough to recognize them as false. This is why we find Muhammad telling his followers that Dhul-Qarnain traveled so far west he found the place where the sun sets, and that stars are missile that Allah uses to shoot demons, and that semen is formed between the backbone and the ribs. These are exactly the sort of absurdities we would expect from someone who has no clue what he's talking about, and who therefore has no clue whether his revelations line up with reality.
Problem 3. Paul knew the Old Testament; Muhammad Did Not - The Apostle Paul was a Pharisee who studied under Rabban Gamaliel II, one of the greatest Jewish rabbis of the first century. Paul knew the Old Testament inside and out which is why he quotes the Old Testament so frequently in his writings. This is important because Jesus claimed to fulfill a variety of Old Testament prophecies and you can't really examine this claim if you don't know what the Old Testament says. Muhammad was almost completely ignorant of the Old Testament because his knowledge of the Jewish scriptures was limited to what he heard in conversations. Not surprisingly despite Muhammad's numerous interactions with Jews in Arabia the Quran contains very few quotations from the Old Testament. Due to his ignorance of the scriptures Muhammad couldn't tell the difference between stories that were in the Torah and therefore divine revelation and stories from later Jewish writings and commentaries some of which were so late and so obviously fabricated they weren't far beyond the level of bedtime stories. Imagine how amusing it must be for someone who specializes in Jewish literature, to read the Quran and find so many fables being presented to Muslims as Revelation. Cain being taught how to bury the dead by a raven (al-Ma`idah (The Table, The Table Spread) 5:31), Solomon listening to a speech by an ant (Surah An-Naml - 15-25). But Muhammad just didn't know enough to distinguish scripture from non-scripture. Muhammad's ignorance of the Old Testament is also noteworthy because, like Jesus, he claimed to fulfill Old Testament prophecies. If Muhammad had been more knowledgeable of the Torah, he would have known that he couldn't possibly be a prophet for numerous reasons. For instance:
Problem 3.1 Muslim sources report that Muhammad once delivered what are now called "The Satanic Verses" to his followers. These verses promoted prayers to three pagan goddesses, Al-Lat and Al-'Uzza and Manat (Surah 53:19-20). Muhammad bowed down in honor of these polytheistic verses and his followers bowed down with him. But a little later Gabriel confronted Muhammad about his sin, Muhammad confessed in the history of AT-TABARI 6:111. So Muhammad admitted that he delivered a revelation that didn't really come from God. Why is this important? Well in Deuteronomy 18:20 "God declares but a prophet who presumes to speak in my name anything I have not commanded or a prophet who speaks in the name of other gods is to be put to death".
Problem 3.2 Muslims claim that they respect Moses, but if Muhammad had delivered "The Satanic Verses" during the time of Moses, Moses would have ordered the people to pick up stones and stone him to death as the most obvious false prophet in history. Muhammad didn't realize this due to his lack of familiarity with the Jewish scriptures.
Problem 4. Paul Was a Contemporary of Jesus Muhammad was not - The apostle Paul was a contemporary of Jesus and he spent much of his time in first century Israel, this put Paul in a perfect position to gain accurate historical information about Jesus. If you want reliable information about a person it's pretty helpful being a member of the person's own generation. And Paul was right there. Muhammad was born more than half a millennium after Jesus death in a completely different country. Since he couldn't read, apart from Divine Revelation his knowledge of Jesus was limited to whatever stories were popular in 7th Century Arabia. This is why when we read the Quran we find so many stories about Jesus that are known to be forgeries. Mary giving birth under a palm tree Surah Maryam - 16-26, Jesus preaching when he was still a baby Surat Maryam [19:29-34], Jesus giving life to clay birds Surah Al-Ma'idah - 110. We know where these stories come from, and they don't come from the first century.
Problem 5. Paul Spoke the Relevant Lanugaes Muhammad Didn't - The Apostle Paul was fluent in Hebrew Aramaic and Greek. All of the languages necessary for understanding the Old Testament, the claims of Jesus and the earliest Christian writings. Muhammad couldn't speak any of the relevant languages so any attempt to understand the Old Testament, the claims of Jesus, or the earliest Christian writings would have required the help of interpreters. I normally wouldn't bring this up as a problem, but since Muslims are obsessed with reading the Quran in the original Arabic, we can only assume that the writings of Moses, the teachings of Jesus and the writings of Jesus followers can only be understood in the original languages. Paul could do that, Muhammad couldn't. Muhammad's ignorance of the original languages leads to further problems: For example the Quran refers to the book revealed through, Jesus as the "Injil", but the Arabic word Injil is ultimately derived from the Greek word "Evangelion" meaning good news. So according to the Quran the book, revealed through Jesus was written in Greek, this makes absolutely no sense if Jesus was only sent to his fellow Jews as Islam claims, but it makes perfect sense if Jesus message was for the rest of the world as well since Greek was the international language of the time. Interestingly the New Testament gospels were written in Greek, exactly what we would expect given the quran's use of the term Injil, but quite unexpected given Muhammad's notion of Jesus life and mission, not to mention Muhammad's conviction that Revelations can't be translated. Quite hypocritical indeed.

Five nights in Paradise, and he was still trying to find a way out.

—Kenneth Oppel, Sunwing
Notes:

1. The paradise is material rather than otherworldly; the protagonist and some other bats have found a man-made habitat that has plentiful food and is free of predators, but they can’t leave.
2. Something very strange is going on in this English sentence. A noun phrase has been conjoined with a clause. I don’t know what’s going on. I would guess it's reduced from it's been five nights.... You can bring out that material if you echo it as a question:

?Has it been?

I feel like while you could say that, you would follow it with a clarifying Five nights, I mean, as it has a non-sequitur feel. Since the construction is by nature conjoined, I can't try making a normal tag question for the first part. Other instances of material being clipped from the start of an utterance sometimes conjoin, though I find some more acceptable than others. (You may differ.)

Just feeling tired.
Just feeling tired, and I want to go to bed.
Just feeling tired, but I’m not going to bed.
?Just feeling tired, and I should go to bed. (How acceptable I find this varies each time I look at it. It works better for me with a longer pause between the clauses.)

Does anyone know what’s going on in this quote, and whether there’s a name for it? Does it work in languages besides English?
(I asked this in the Q&A thread on linguistics yesterday, but haven’t gotten an answer. I’ll edit this post if I learn any more.)

Drake is really a pedophile who runs human trafficking, and the whole industry knows about it. Kendrick hates that fact and wants to destroy everything, but doesn't have any evidence. So, what to do? Ride the tail of Diddy’s arrest, rile people up to raise awareness.
Let’s start with striking Drake’s ego with Like That.
Drake knows what Kendrick’s mission is, they hate each other for a long time already. Of course they also understand each other. What to do? Don’t give Kendrick a chance to run his mission, make it as chaotic as possible.
Use lies, lies, lies, and lies, mix up some confusion that all of this are about skin color, add pretension that it’s about who’s the best in rap, add some annoyance to trip up Kendrick’s fans (let them scream about SZA as much as they want), add some B-Rabbit’s shit (Hey, I know it’s about pedophilia), put some diversion to Kendrick’s main target (Introducing Tupac & Snoop AI), never forget to add some bragging and last, serve it to as many rapper as possible.
((I don’t want to bother looking up which part belongs to which track, so just let me merge them, ok?))
“Hey, Buddy, I know you’re gonna tell everyone that I’m a liar. Look at me, I will only tell lies, and everyone will still believe me. I already announce to the world that I’m a loverboy, and nobody bats an eyelid”
((For everyone who doesn’t understand, please google “loverboy method”))
Understanding his opponent, Kendrick chose to shut his ears, write up all of his diss tracks. The tactic is clear, stay on the mission.
For the first track, just repeat the mantra. He’s an actor, scam artist, master manipulator, habitual liar, a poker face, he fakin’. Peel him up layer by layer so everyone can clearly see how fake he is. Sprinkle some hints so everyone can guess what it’s really about. Pedo, pedo, pedo, pedo. Add some flare, fake warning for the benefit of the audiences. It will always be about pedo anyway.
Second track, a real challenge. “Hey, do you really think I don’t have any evidence? I have many spies. And I’m ready to do a kamikaze attack, let’s die together.”
Drake’s camp shook up a little bit. Does he really have any spies? What’s the plan? Let’s just repeat our last try, chaos is the best way. Add some heavy allegations to rile up the audiences.
“Show to the audience that we don’t care about any of Kendrick’s warnings. How do we annoy Kendrick’s fans now? Ah, easy… let’s give the hardest part of the track to everyone but Kendrick.”
The audience screams…. "Kendrick, are you a wife beater, cuck?"
Kendrick knows that everything is just an act for Drake. He’s not really attacking Whitney and Dave Free. He’s not really accusing him of any domestic violence. Why bother with all the provocation? Continue as planned, send the real attack now.
“Hey everyone, this is my main mission, to show all of you how fucking horrible of a person Drake really is. And please understand what I said on my first track. He’s a liar. He’s a liar. He’s a liar. He’s a liar. He’s a liar. He’s a liar. He’s a liar. He’s a liar. Hey Drake, You don’t believe that I have spies? So how do I know about your daughter?”
((For everyone who doubts Kendrick’s claim about the daughter. Please remember that he’s on a mission to reveal how much of a liar Drake is. Using a lie as a weapon would totally defeat the purpose. The daughter is real.))
Drake’s camp shook harder than the first time. Are the spies real? What kind of evidence they already smuggle out? Time to rile people up, let’s put a feeler on via Instagram. But also, probably a slip up “What daughter?”
The world split into two. One part screamed “Yeah, what daughter, wife beater?” The other part gets confused “Wait…. Why don’t you question the pedophile part?”
With only a single mission on his mind, Kendrick ignored all the questions and continued the attack. Time to spread the awareness into more and more people, let everyone dance and laugh while chanting how horrible Drake is at the same time.
Looking at how many people dance, Drake panics. He requested a ceasefire in the backside, but planned an attack on the frontside. No time to summon some ghosts. Now sure that Kendrick doesn't have any evidence, he stepped up alone, as cocky as always, doing his best taunt.
“Hey Kendrick, I’ll help you scream pedophile. I’ll tell everyone that I expected the Epstein angle, I’ll shout out Millie Bobby Brown, do you think you’ll win? Nobody will listen to you, I’m too big to lose. Hey Kendrick’s fans, here’s a mistaken quote from your lord’s song to make you crawl.”
“Hey Everyone, With many allegations being thrown around, do you think we need to check one by one which is true and which is false? Look, this is me explaining my position, let’s ask Kendrick to do the same.”
Drake’s fans screamed “Kendrick, it's your turn now, explain all of that shit, or you’re lost by default.”
Kendrick fans screamed “Foul, Kendrick is already won! Let’s compare how much of our favorites speak the truth. and what the fuck is that quote?”
The rest of the world keeps dancing.
And nobody is even aware how much of a manipulator Drake is.
To be continued? Or is it The End?
Is Kendrick mission even finished already?
Is he truly ready for a kamikaze attack?
Who is EbonyPrince242K?
Wait, What?

The last time we met I talked about how the following prophecy was fulfilled:
“Therefore Adonai the God of Israel says, ‘I did indeed say that your family and your father’s family would walk in my presence forever.’ But now Adonai says, ‘ Forget it! I respect those who respect me, but those who despise me will meet with contempt. The day is coming when I will break your strength and the strength of your father’s family so that no one in your family will live to old age. At a time when Israel is prospering, you will see a rival in my Dwelling; and never will anyone in your family live to old age. Still, I won’t cut off every one of your men from my altar; because that would make your eyes grow dim, and you would waste away. Nevertheless, all your descendants will die young.” -1 Samuel 2:30-33
God is speaking to Eli and letting him know that not one member of his family will live to see old age.
That prophecy was fulfilled when Saul ordered the slaughter of Achimelech and his entire household of priests.
However, there was another major prophecy fulfilled when this event occurred.
It’s contained in verse 32:
“At a time when Israel is prospering, you will see a rival in my Dwelling; and never will anyone in your family live to old age.”
So we’re told Eli’s family had a rival.
Who was this rival?
It was none other than the family of Zadok.
Eli and his offspring were from the line of Ithamar.
Ithamar was one of Aaron’s sons but it was NOT the legitimate High Priestly line.
It was only the descendants of Eleazar who were supposed to be the High Priests.
So which line did Zadok come from?
He came from the legitimate line of Eleazar…
Which means if God was gonna set things straight…
He’d have to dispose of Eli and his family in due time.
Well, we saw that He did just that when Saul ordered the slaughter of the priesthood.
However, recall one member of Eli’s family named Avyatar escaped.
He became the High Priest despite being from the illegitimate line of Ithamar.
So for a while, there were two rival High Priests in existence as follows:
Avyatar from the illegitimate line of Ithamar and…
Zadok from the legitimate line Eleazar.
David allowed these two competing High Priests to serve at the same time…
But when David’s son Solomon assumed the throne, the situation changed.
When Solomon came to power, he booted out Avyatar.
Once that happened, the way things should have been per the Torah were restored.
Now, I dunno about you but my mind is blown away here.
God allowed a terrible massacre to be carried out by a partnership between an Israelite and a gentile that resulted in the elimination of Israel’s priesthood.
This was a terrible evil that Saul committed using his gentile dog the Edomite Do’eg (pun intended).
But here’s the thing.
It was an illegitimate priesthood because it came from the illegitimate line of Ithamar.
Ya feeling me here homies?
There are a couple of amazing takeaways to be extracted from today’s article.
First, there is such a thing as righteous racism.
Bloodlines freakin’ matter man…
Especially when it comes to the Levites and God’s holy priesthood.
That’s the first takeaway.
The second takeaway…
Well heck, in terms of the second takeaway, I can do no better than to quote the Messiah Himself…
“Don’t think that I have come to abolish the Torah or the Prophets. I have come not to abolish but to complete. Yes indeed! I tell you that until heaven and earth pass away, not so much as a yud or a stroke will pass from the Torah — not until everything that must happen has happened.”
See, here’s the thing…
Just because God allows some religious institutions that claim to be doing His Will to exist does NOT mean they’re legit or will stand forever.
If they’re not in alignment with the Torah, eventually they gotta go.
They could just be a tool in God’s hands to achieve His agenda before He discards it.
I’d say the gentile Christian church fits this description to a tee.
Come to think of it, ain’t that exactly what the Apostle Paul said in Romans Chapter 11?
Didn’t he say he’s using the gentile church to provoke Israel to jealousy?
And then after the full amount of Gentiles has entered in, it’s goodbye to the gentile church, and time for all Israel to be saved.
Honestly, I can’t see how God is going to allow a lawless institution like the gentile church to stand forever.
Think about it.
He allowed the very priesthood of Israel to represent Him for a time but then He eliminated it.
Do you think God is going to allow an institution that has a history of anti-Semitism and preaches that God’s Holy Torah has been done away with to stand forever?
OH HELL NO!
CONNECTING THIS TEACHING TO THE NEW TESTAMENT
“For, brothers, I want you to understand this truth which God formerly concealed but has now revealed, so that you won’t imagine you know more than you actually do. It is that stoniness, to a degree, has come upon Isra’el, until the Gentile world enters in its fullness; and that it is in this way that all Israel will be saved. As the Tanakh says, Out of Tziyon will come the Redeemer; he will turn away ungodliness from Ya‘akov and this will be my covenant with them, . . . when I take away their sins.” -Romans 11:25-27
P.S. If you wanna check out another scorching post on this topic, click HERE to read an article titled “Three Reasons Why The God Of Israel May End Christianity”.

"I played major league baseball for parts of 10 years, and I played in the magnificent city of New York, and as a child in St. Croix that was beyond dreams. Yes, I am a happy man." -- Horace Clarke
The worst stretch of Yankee baseball since the Highlander days, the mid 60s to the mid 70s, is remembered by those who lived through it as the Horace Clarke Era. Unfairly or not, the bespectacled switch-hitting middle infielder from the U.S. Virgin Islands came to symbolize all that was wrong with the Yankees in those sad years.
Horace Meredith Clarke grew up on the island of St. Croix in the U.S. Virgin Islands. He was just the fifth player from the U.S. Virgin Islands to play in the majors, and the first Yankee. His father had grown up playing cricket, and because there were no youth baseball leagues on the island, young Horace played softball. He said he didn't see his first baseball game until around age 13, when he saw some U.S. Navy sailors playing.

“We were poor kids in St. Croix. We played on a field which was right on the ocean and had no fences. We couldn’t afford baseballs. So the coach made the lefthanded batters hit righthanded and the righthanded batters hit lefthanded. This was so they couldn’t hit the ball so far. It saved us from losing the baseballs in the ocean.”

Clarke was spotted by a Yankee scout in the Caribbean and assigned to the lowest run of the Yankee farm system -- the Kearney Yankees in Class D ball. Imagine being an 18-year-old kid from St. Croix in the Caribbean, and arriving in Kearney, Nebraska in the spring of 1958. The culture shock must have been overwhelming. Maybe not surprisingly, Clarke hit a disappointing .225/.322/.283 in 187 at-bats. He said the biggest adjustment wasn't the cold weather, but night games played under the lights, something he'd never done before.
The following year Horace was in the Florida State League, and he thrived in the warmer weather, hitting .293/.375/.366 in 571 at-bats. He also stole 34 bases that year. The year after that, he was back up north, playing for Fargo in the Northern League, and hit .307/.389/.369 in 537 at-bats. The following year was Amarillo in the Texas League, where he hit .300/.364/.429.
Then the next three years in the International League, where he hit .281/.345/.352 in 1,494 at-bats while playing shortstop and second base.
But despite Clarke's promise, he was blocked by Bobby Richardson. By the time Clarke had reached Triple-A at age 24 in 1963, the 27-year-old Richardson had already been a four-time All-Star, a two-time Gold Glove winner, and had won three World Series rings... plus the MVP for the 1960 World Series, the only time in baseball history a player for the losing team won the award!
But the Yankees knew Richardson was planning on retiring, so they kept Clarke waiting in the wings. He opened the year with the Toledo Mud Hens, then the Yankees' Triple-A team, and then after a month he finally got the call to the show.
Fifty-nine years ago today, on May 13, 1965, Clarke was sent up to the plate in the 7th inning as a pinch hitter to make his major league debut in a game the Yankees were losing, 4-1, to the Boston Red Sox in Fenway Park.
Clarke, facing Dave Morehead, beat out an infield single. It was a promising beginning. But, as if scripted to be symbolic of his career, Clarke's success was short-lived as the next batter bounced into a fielder's choice. Forced out at second base, Clarke watched the rest of the game from the dugout. The next day he'd get the start and go 0-for-4.
Hitting .250/.298/.269 at the end of June as a utility infielder, Clarke was sent back down to Toledo for two months to get more regular playing time. It helped. When he returned on September 3 -- coincidentally, also against the Red Sox -- he went 3-for-5 with an RBI. Overall that month, Clarke hit .273/.298/.327, and for the season, .262/.298/.299 in 115 plate appearances. But the Yankees, the reigning A.L. champions for the past five seasons, finished a shocking 77-85, all the way in sixth place.
That off-season, Phil Linz -- the harmonica playing utility infielder -- was traded to the Phillies, opening up a roster spot for Clarke. Richardson, though only 31, had told the Yankees he would retire at the end of the 1966 season, and the Yankees wanted him to mentor Clarke as his successor.
Clarke started just seven games over the first half, but a series of injuries forced him into regular service. Over the second half, he played almost every day, hitting .276/.334/.404 in 300 plate appearances. He was mostly used at shortstop, where his defense wasn't great, but in 16 games at second base he looked good enough that the Yankees were confident he could be a regular there. Yankee fans were no doubt a little sad when Richardson officially announced to the press on August 31 that it was his last season, but at least we knew who would be playing second base the following year.
Indeed, second base was the least of the Yankees' problems. New York finished dead last at 70-89 in 1966, the team's worst performance since 1925, as injuries fell Mickey Mantle, Roger Maris, Elston Howard, and Whitey Ford.
Entering 1967 as the starting second baseman, Clarke hit a solid .272/.321/.316 (94 OPS+) in 633 plate appearances while leading the league in fielding percentage, assists, and range factor as a second baseman. He also stole 21 bases in 25 tries, a second-best .840 SB%. His 3.7 bWAR that year was better than any season Richardson ever had -- his career high was 3.2 bWAR in 1962.
The following year, the Yankees finished 83-79 -- above .500 for the first time in four seasons -- but a whopping 34.5 games out. Clarke had one of the worst years of his career, hitting .230/.258/.254 (60 OPS+) as he played through injuries all year.
He rebounded in 1969 to .285/.339/.467 (101 OPS+), with 33 stolen bases. It was, statistically, the best season of his career (3.9 bWAR). But once again the Yankees were terrible -- 28.5 games out.
In 1970, Clarke again disappointed, hitting .251/.286/.309 (68 OPS+). The Yankees won 93 games that year, but it amounted to naught as the Orioles ran away with the pennant, going 108-54 to win it by 15 games. In fact, it was pretty much over by July, with the Yankees 7 games out at the All-Star break.
It was around this time that Yankee fans began focusing their frustration on Clarke. One New York sportswriter routinely referred to him as "Horrible Horace". Miscast as a leadoff man -- he had a career .308 OBP -- and criticized for "bailing out" on double plays, manager Ralph Houk years later offered a tepid defense of his second baseman:

“I know I got a lot of criticism for playing Horace Clarke as much as I did, but he was a lot better ballplayer than anyone gave him credit for. He did a lot of things good but nothing great, and that was his problem. Besides, I didn’t have anyone else.”

The lack of a replacement was certainly an issue. In 1971, there was talk in The Sporting News about a prospect named Fred Frazier being the heir apparent to Clarke at second base. That year, Frazier hit a disappointing .261/.316/.313 in Triple-A; the next year, .216/.302/.281. The year after that, he was in the Orioles organization. He never made it out of the minors.
In fact, Clarke was the only constant in the Yankee infield in the late 1960s and early 1970s. The Yankees during the, ahem, Horace Clarke Era had holes everywhere, with a revolving door at first base, third base, and shortstop. For five years, from 1967 to 1971, Clarke was the Opening Day starter at second base; during that same stretch, there were five different third basemen, five different third basemen, and three different shortstops. Between 1967 and 1973, he started 1,017 games at second base, or 90% of all Yankee games.
But that, explained Yankees PR man Marty Appel, was kind of the problem. "Fans especially didn’t like the second baseman, the beleaguered Horace Clarke, whose major flaw seemed to be longevity. It wasn’t his fault that no one better came along, and he was a better player than the fans gave him credit for. But because he was out there, year after year, he came to stand for this disappointing run by the club."

"I always did my best. I always played as hard as I could. I never was concerned about how the fans reacted to me." -- Horace Clarke

The following year Clarke hit .250/.321/.318 in 696 plate appearances, but the Yankees again were out of it, finishing 82-80 in 1971.
Yankee fans had been miserable since 1965, but frustration with the team in general -- and Clarke in particular -- reached a boiling point in 1972. It had been seven years since the Yankees had been in the post-season, and 1972 was the first year the Yankees had the playoffs within our grasp since winning the pennant in 1964. (The "closest and latest" the Yankees had been since the 1965 season was 9 games out of 1st place on September 8, 1970.)
On September 12, 1972, the Yankees were a half-game out of 1st place at 74-64, with 17 games left to go in the season. The Red Sox were in 1st at 73-62, the Orioles tied with New York at 74-64, and the Tigers a half-game behind at 73-64. Over the rest of the season, the Yankees went a heartbreaking 5-12, while the Tigers won 13 out of 19 to win the A.L. East.
There was plenty of blame to go around for that collapse, but Yankee fans were particularly irate at Clarke, who hit .225/.267/.296 during those final 17 games.
To his credit, Clarke never complained about the boos from fans or the criticism in the press. As quoted by Dick Young in the New York Daily News in 1972:

"Sure, I would feel bad when I saw in the papers that, 'the Yankees can never win the pennant with that guy at second base.' But why get mad. I figure that's his opinion, and he's entitled to it. I must have been able to do something. Don't tell me a ballplayer can fool a manager for seven years."

Years later, Thurman Munson said his adversarial relationship with the media was based on how Horace Clarke was treated.
In 1973, the 34-year-old Clarke hit .263/.317/.308 (80 OPS+), his defense was no longer among the league leaders, and the Yankees were once again double-digit games behind by Labor Day.
It was finally time to move on. That off season, the Yankees acquired 23-year-old utility infielder Jim Mason from the Texas Rangers and installed him as the starting shortstop for the upcoming 1974 season; Gene Michael, the Yankees' on-again, off-again shortstop since 1968, was moved to second base; and Clarke to the bench. It wasn't exactly an earth-shattering move -- Mason was coming off a season in which he hit .206/.273/.290, and Michael .225/.270/.278. If anything, the two represented a substantial downgrade from Clarke's numbers. (By bWAR the previous season, Clarke was still the best option of the three, 0.6 compared to Mason's -0.7 and Michael's -0.9.)
After hitting .234/.294/.255 in 53 plate appearances as a pinch hitter and spot starter, on May 31, 1974, the Yankees finally ended the Horace Clarke Era by selling his contract to the San Diego Padres along with minor league pitcher Lowell Palmer for $25,000. At the time of the deal, Clarke was still the Yankees' best option at second base as Mason was hitting .214/.287/.307 and Michael a putrid .134/.224/.179!
Six weeks later, the Yankees tried to address their second base problem again by acquiring former All-Star Sandy Alomar from the Angels. Alomar, who fathered major leaguers Sandy Jr. and Roberto, played for the Yankees for the next two and a half seasons, hitting .248/.287/.302... again, worse than Horace's career average of .256/.308/.313.
And yet getting rid of Horace Clarke immediately turned around the Yankees' fortunes. With Horace, the Yankees were 23-27, the worst record in the American League; without him, a second-best 66-46. New York finished 89-73, just two games behind the Baltimore Orioles.
The Yankees finally found a solution to the second base problem on December 11, 1975, trading previously forgotten Yankee Doc Medich to the Pirates for Dock Ellis, Ken Brett, and a 20-year-old prospect named Willie Randolph.
Meanwhile, Clarke went to San Diego and hit .189/.255/.200 in 99 plate appearances. He was released at the end of the season and retired. He was a frequent attendee at Yankee Old Timers' Games, and promoted baseball in the U.S. Virgin Islands. He died at age 81 on August 5, 2020, from complications due to Alzheimer's disease.
The Clarke Side

• Horace's nickname was "Hoss". Yankee play-by-play man Bill White loved to draw out the "s" sound.
  
• Clarke had a reputation of being timid on double plays -- the team's pitchers thought he was apt to hold onto the ball and hop aside rather than try to get off a throw if it meant getting barreled over by the runner. (And in those days, runners came in hard -- just ask Willie Randolph!) Yankee pitchers complained to the press about it, and fans started watching for such plays. Any time the 175-pound Clarke didn't complete a double play, the boo birds came out. To be fair, despite his reputation as being afraid of contact, Clarke led the league in double plays turned as a second baseman in 1969 and again in 1971, and finished in the top five every year he was a regular.
  
• Clarke was the last Yankee to live within walking distance of Yankee Stadium, at the Grand Concourse Hotel. His commute to work was a three-block walk... which could be a problem sometimes. Sportswriter Dick Young reported Clarke had an awkward moment when a fan, "this kid, maybe 11 or 12," walked up and asked: "Hey Hoss, how come you can't make the double play?" Clarke replied: "Well, we can't all be stars. I guess I'm just a lousy ballplayer."
  
• Clarke had an unusual batting stance, a throwback to the Deadball Era. He stood with his legs far apart and he choked up high on the bat. Not surprisingly, he had just 27 home runs in 5,243 career plate appearances... but apparently all of them were of the over-the-fence variety.
  
• The first of those 27 home runs was a grand slam! It was off Floyd Weaver of the Cleveland Indians on September 21, 1965. The two-out grand slam in the 4th inning helped power the Yankees to a 9-4 win.
  
• And Clarke's second career home run? Another grand slam! It came on July 16, 1966. Clarke came up with the bases loaded and one out in the top of the 10th of a 5-5 game. Clarke crushed Jack Aker's offering to deep right to clear the bases and give the Yankees a 9-5 lead; Pedro Ramos pitched a perfect 9th to preserve the victory. Whitey Ford, who had entered the game in the 9th inning in relief, got the win. Clarke's first and second home runs were the only grand slams of his career!
  
• Aker was later Clarke's teammate with the Yankees from 1969 to 1972, and the sinkerballing reliever was one of the pitchers who criticized Horace about bailing out on double plays.
  
• Long before John Olerud made it cool, Horace sometimes wore a batting helmet while playing the field. He never explained why; some speculated it was because he'd once been hit in the head by a thrown ball.
  
• Clarke said he grew up listening to Yankee games on the radio, and Phil Rizzuto -- a similarly undersized infielder -- was his favorite player. Horace was 11 years old when the Scooter won the A.L. MVP in 1950.
  
• Mickey Mantle, his knees shot, moved to first base for the final two years of his career. Clarke, the regular second baseman both of those seasons, said that Mantle told him to get every ball he could. Horace led the league in range factor as a second baseman both of those seasons.
  
• The Sporting News reported on March 14, 1970, that Clarke had a "novel twist" during salary negotiations for the upcoming 1970 season. He told the Yankees he'd take less money in salary if they helped him secure a $1 million loan for a construction project in the Virgin Islands. Sportswriter Dick Young speculated: "It's a very simple gimmick. First you get the Yankees to lend you $1 million for an investment. You bank it at seven percent. That brings in $70,000 a year. Then you negotiate your contract with the independent feeling that you don't have to play baseball for a living." Clarke and the Yankees eventually agreed on a more conventional contract at $32,000 -- and no loan.
  
• Check out Horace Clarke's leadoff single on Opening Day in 1970, called by Phil Rizzuto! #23 playing first base for the Yankees is not Don Mattingly, but previously forgotten Yankee John Ellis.
  
• Clarke set the major league career record -- since tied by Joe Mauer -- of most no-hitters broken up in the 9th inning. Both players did it three times in their career... but Clarke did it three times in the same season! He had 9th inning singles to break up no-no's by Kansas City's Jim Rooker on June 4, 1970, Boston's Sonny Siebert on June 19, 1970, and Detroit's Joe Niekro on July 2, 1970. No other hitter has broken up more than two no-hitters in the 9th inning in his career, according to the book Baseball's No-Hit Wonders by Dirk Lammers, but Clarke amazingly did it three times in 24 games spread over 28 days. Mauer's 9th inning heartbreakers came over a six-year stretch.
  
• Clarke went 5-for-6 with an RBI in the second game of a doubleheader on April 19, 1970 -- and had 11 other games where he had four hits. In terms of fantasy scoring, his best day was either May 21, 1969, when he went 4-for-6 with three runs scored and three stolen bases, or July 22, 1971, when he was 4-for-5 with three runs scored and three RBIs.
  
• Clarke was involved in one of the most surreal moments of baseball history on the final day of the 1971 season. The Yankees were playing the Washington Senators -- not the original Senators, who had moved to Minnesota to become the Twins in 1961, but the expansion team founded that same year to replace them. Rangers owner Bob Short, who had bought the team three years earlier, announced he was moving the team to Arlington, Texas, to become the Rangers. (Coincidentally, in 1957, Short had bought the Minneapolis Lakers and, three years later, moved them to Los Angeles.) The final home game of the Senators at RFK Stadium in Washington, D.C., was on September 30, 1971 against the Yankees. The game was tied, 5-5, but the soon-to-be Rangers scored a pair in the bottom of the 8th to take a 7-5 lead. In the top of the 9th, Felipe Alou and Bobby Murcer grounded out to bring up Horace Clarke. Before he could get to the plate, however, a fan ran onto the field and pulled up first base, prompting hundreds more fans to run onto the field in search of their own souvenirs. Clarke and the Senators ran off the field and the umpires called it a forfeit in favor of the Yankees.
  
• Horace wore #20 all 10 seasons he was with the Yankees. It was never a particularly popular number before him, as the only player who wore it more than a few seasons was Tiny Bonham (1940-1946). Bucky Dent wore #20 from 1977 to 1982, and previously forgotten Yankee Bobby Meacham from 1983 to 1988. Another previously forgotten Yankee, Mike Stanley, wore it from 1992 to 1995, then Jorge Posada had it until Stanley returned in 1997 and reclaimed it. After Stanley left the Yankees, he asked Posada to take it back, saying that number should belong to a catcher. And now it always will, as it was retired for Posada in 2015.
  
• His obituary in The New York Times noted that among major leaguers from the Virgin Islands -- "a relatively small roster" -- Clarke still holds the records for games played, hits, runs, RBIs, and stolen bases.
  
• After he retired, Clarke helped promote youth baseball in the U.S. Virgin Islands. One of the players he mentored was Jerry Browne, who played 10 years in the majors between 1986 and 1995 with the Rangers, Indians, A's, and Marlins. In his SABR biography, Browne credits Clarke with teaching him baseball fundamentals.
  
• According to the book Where Have All Our Yankees Gone? by Brian Jensen, Clarke played a uniquely Caribbean instrument called "the vibes." "The vibes is like a xylophone, marimba-related type sound. It's a keyboard-type related instrument." Clarke said he played the instrument during his Yankee days, but -- unlike Bernie Williams, who frequently strummed on his guitar in the clubhouse -- only during the off-season. "When I was with the Yankees, ya know, the instrument that I had, the vibes, I was doing it, ya know, but never in the clubhouse, though. Once you are in the clubhouse, it is all work, ya know. That was never so much allowed. I had the instrument all the years that I was a Yankee but I was involved with baseball. That was my full time and I didn't have full time to play music but, ya know, in the off-season I would have a vibe and try to learn a song by hearing from a tape or a record and that's what it was." After retiring, Clarke played the instrument with a local band called Out of Nowhere.
  
• Of the 15 major leaguers to have been born in the U.S. Virgin Islands, the only other Yankee was Elrod Hendricks, a backup catcher for the Bombers from 1976 to 1977. Jabari Blash, born in St. Thomas, gets an honorable mention for the three months he spent as a Yankee during the 2017-2018 off-season. Blash was acquired from the Padres for Chase Headley on December 12, then traded to the Angels for a PTBNL or cash considerations. I guess we got the cash, because apparently no player was ever named.
  
• There's a Horace Clarke High School in Jamaica, but it's not named after the Yankee. It's named after the Horace Clarke who was a member of parliament in Jamaica from 1972 to 2002.
  
• Also not him: Horace Clarke, a teenager shot and seriously wounded by a Blackfeet Indian named Owl Child on August 17, 1869. Clarke's father, Malcolm, was killed in the same attack, which was purportedly revenge for Malcolm Clarke having attacked him two years earlier... which Malcolm claimed he'd done because Owl Child had stolen horses from him... which Owl Child said he'd done in revenge for yet an earlier dispute. The pursuit of Owl Child resulted in a massacre of at least 170 people, mostly elderly men, women, and children. As for Owl Child, he escaped to Canada and was never seen again.
  

"I remember the first game I played in Yankee Stadium in 1965. There were more than 40,000 people in the stands. I had just come from my country where there are 30,000 people in the entire country. That was some adjustment." -- Horace Clarke

Overall, Horace Clarke hit .257/.309/.315 in 5,144 plate appearances as a Yankee. His numbers aren't quite as bad as they appear, as he played during one of the lowest offense eras since deadball... an 84 OPS+. That ranks him ahead of fondly-remembered Yankees like Shelley Duncan (81 OPS+), Rick Cerone (80 OPS+), Miguel Cairo (80 OPS+), Bucky Dent (72 OPS+), and... Bobby Richardson (77 OPS+). And while many complained about his defense, his defensive metrics -- such as we have for his era -- indicate he was at least an average defender. He led the league in range factor three times, in fielding percentage once, in assists six times, and in double plays twice.
People tend to think about Clarke -- if they think about him at all -- as either a terrible player, representative of the teams he played on, or a good player who was wasted on bad teams. The truth is somewhere in the middle. As sportswriter Maury Allen said, he was "an average big-leaguer on below-average Yankee teams."
And in fact, Clarke's 16.0 career bWAR as a Yankee is twice as much value as the player he replaced, Bobby Richardson (8.0 bWAR). But Richardson was a fan favorite, while Clarke was scorned. But of course... Richardson won three rings. And Yankee fans love a winner!

"New York is New York. You don’t win, you’re going to hear about it. I was in the middle." -- Horace Clarke

Had Clarke come along a few years earlier and been part of the early 1960s dynasty, he might be remembered fondly as a scrappy infielder, a Tony Kubek or a Bucky Dent or a Scott Brosius -- a good but not great player who had some memorable moments.
Instead, Horace Clarke defines an era of futility.