Book template handwriting printable space for illustration
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2011.09.27 04:58 k2cougar Handwriting
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2011.05.05 23:03 1point618 SF, fantasy, post-apocalypse, and other genre visual arts
SF, fantasy, and post-apocalypse visual arts. Explore the visual aspects of imagined worlds. All speculative visual arts are welcome, from space vistas to fantasy landscapes to ruined cities to psychedelic paintings to dreaded monsters to f'ing dinosaurs!
2013.02.14 02:50 PrinterPaperPorn: Printer Paper.
Exploring the past through historical paper. Part of the SFW Porn Network.
2024.05.16 17:51 Sikatanan The Book of Brunson: What I found rewatching all 244 of his two-point attempts [OC]
You are Jalen Brunson. (Cool feeling, right?) You catch the ball on the right wing and weave together some between-the-legs dribbles while you contemplate how you should score. Pound dribble to a step-back? The double-crossover-to-hesi combo to get to the paint for a classic floater?
Not this time. You call up good ole’ Isaiah Hartenstein — love that guy — for a pick, but it’s a ruse. As he approaches, you flash the quickest in-and-out in the land and reject the screen, blowing by your hapless defender like the Road Runner lapping the Coyote. Layup drills aren’t this easy.
As Knicks fall around him like so many orange, autumnal leaves, Brunson just keeps carving a path to points. He’s had five 40-burgers in 11 playoff games. There aren’t many guards in the league with as diverse a shotmaking profile. I wanted to dig deeper and figure out how he got all these buckets, particularly the ones inside the arc, where the artistry happens.
A shot chart can show you where the shots happened (sort of), but they can’t show you what kind of attempt it was. The NBA assigns a type to every shot, but the descriptions are both inconsistent and wrong too often to be useful for a micro-analysis like this. So, I hit the tape. I rewatched all of Brunson’s 244 two-point attempts from these playoffs and categorized them into several shot types (there is some discretion involved, art and science, but I tried my best to be consistent).
Here’s how he scores inside the arc, from least prolific to most. The Book of Brunson, if you will (or if you will not; that’s what I’m calling it, regardless). It starts a little slow, but I promise it gets exciting toward the end. Kind of like every single Knicks playoff game.
[Thanks for reading! I've collected nearly a dozen video clips illustrating my points. I think they add a lot to the post! They can be found in-context here or at the various links I've put throughout.]
When I played 2K (back when a single digit followed the “2K” prefix, yikes), that was called the “rim-grazer” package. Barely gets over the cylinder. Still counts!
I digress. Back to cuts. Synergy has him in the fourth percentile for the share of shots finished off of cuts; it’s not his jam. By my count, Brunson has had precisely three field goal attempts off cuts in 11 playoff games. Two went in. For what it’s worth, Hartenstein had the assist on both (and in fact, Hartenstein’s 10 total playoff assists to Brunson are more than anyone else on the roster). Here’s one: [video here]
Understandably, the Pacers were not expecting it. Neither was I, but then again, I’m not paid eight figures to stop him.
But every once in a while, someone will poke the ball loose and toss it up to Brunson. He’ll catch it, dribble, lay it up. Most of the time, he makes it; sometimes, he misses it. If it doesn’t sound that exciting, well, it’s not.
If you want to see one, here it is. I appreciate how he uses his weirdly broad shoulders to create space around the rim: [video here]
Brunson can’t really throw it down in a highlight kind of way (except that one time when he did!). Fast-break Brunson layups are about as dull as fast-break layups can be. Let’s move on.
I mean, look at this thing. It’s gorgeous. The footwork, the arc, everything. And always — always! — using that left shoulder as a pole to spin around: [video here]
These are difficult shots, but by my count, he’s shooting 62% on turnarounds! That’s wild. I wonder if he shouldn’t take more of these and fewer step-backs, although these are a bit harder to get off with bigger bodies on him. Brunson knows what he’s doing; I shan’t second-guess him.
But it’s always fun seeing him break defenders in half on the way to the hoop like it’s the most casual thing in the world: [video here]
It isn’t casual, though. It’s a lot of work. I’m stressed about the impact of all this acceleration and deceleration on his joints, ligaments, and bones, and despite what the tenor of this piece may lead you to believe, I’m not even a Knicks fan.
I’m also stressed you’ll judge me by my chosen highlights, spent more time than I care to admit picking ones that will prove to you that I’m both knowledgeable and a little hipster. Brunson made Nesmith touch parquet twice in the ongoing series (which hurt me; I’m a huge Nesmith guy), but that’s a little too cool to be cool, you know what I mean? Here’s where I landed. Brunson’s not as big a pass-fake guy as you might expect, but he sure does love to pretend that a pick is coming: [video here]
Ah, now I’m second-guessing myself. Oh well. You know what Brunson layups look like. It’s all crazy dribble combinations and shot fakes in fits and spurts, starts and stops, that somehow end with him blurring to the hoop for a high-arcing shot off the glass.
Floaters are a weapon of last resort for too many point guards, the shot they puke up when they can’t get past their man. That can be true for Brunson at times, too.
But Brunson has weaponized the floater, often by using it to bait fouls. If he gets the hostage dribble on a defender, putting them on his back, you better believe he’s gonna throw the ball upward and his body backward to get the whistle (I thought they legislated that out of the game, but nobody told the refs judging Brunson). That’s not my favorite play, of course, but it’s hard to deny the effectiveness.
He launches floaters from everywhere and anywhere. Leaning left, leaning right, falling down. Contested, wide-open, in the middle of four bodies. Occasionally, Brunson reminds me of classic fight-movie scenes in which the protagonist is drowning in enemy combatants, buried so you can’t even see him, when he suddenly springs up, spraying bad guys everywhere: [video here]
People say Brunson is good at getting to his spots, as if there is a finite number. I don’t really agree. All spots are Brunson spots; the floater will come from whatever direction he chooses.
Midrange jumpers are generally looked down upon. You can see from my points-per-shot calculation how much less efficient they’ve been than everything else, but that’s the nature of the beast. Just because they don’t always go in doesn’t mean we can’t appreciate them.
Sometimes, it’s hard to manufacture even sub-optimal offense (and that’s particularly true in the playoffs). Sometimes, you gotta go out there and cook; as long as the meal’s not burnt, it’ll do. And sometimes, it’ll be g*dd*mn delicious: [video here]
In truth, many of these possessions are ticking grenades, and it’s up to our hero to jump on them. The Knicks try to run their offense, nobody else can do a dang thing off the dribble (not, mind you, that they receive many chances), and suddenly there are six seconds left on the shot clock. Brunson, thankfully, can do a whole lot in six seconds. This is great defense; it doesn’t matter: [video here]
The midrange isn’t dead; like wealth, it has simply consolidated into the hands of the few. Only players with sufficient star wattage are allowed to take them. And with a playoff run for the ages, Brunson’s been outshining nearly everyone.
submitted by Sikatanan to NYKnicks [link] [comments]
Not this time. You call up good ole’ Isaiah Hartenstein — love that guy — for a pick, but it’s a ruse. As he approaches, you flash the quickest in-and-out in the land and reject the screen, blowing by your hapless defender like the Road Runner lapping the Coyote. Layup drills aren’t this easy.
As Knicks fall around him like so many orange, autumnal leaves, Brunson just keeps carving a path to points. He’s had five 40-burgers in 11 playoff games. There aren’t many guards in the league with as diverse a shotmaking profile. I wanted to dig deeper and figure out how he got all these buckets, particularly the ones inside the arc, where the artistry happens.
A shot chart can show you where the shots happened (sort of), but they can’t show you what kind of attempt it was. The NBA assigns a type to every shot, but the descriptions are both inconsistent and wrong too often to be useful for a micro-analysis like this. So, I hit the tape. I rewatched all of Brunson’s 244 two-point attempts from these playoffs and categorized them into several shot types (there is some discretion involved, art and science, but I tried my best to be consistent).
Here’s how he scores inside the arc, from least prolific to most. The Book of Brunson, if you will (or if you will not; that’s what I’m calling it, regardless). It starts a little slow, but I promise it gets exciting toward the end. Kind of like every single Knicks playoff game.
[Thanks for reading! I've collected nearly a dozen video clips illustrating my points. I think they add a lot to the post! They can be found in-context here or at the various links I've put throughout.]
7) THE DUNK
1 make, 0 misses, 0 FTM, 2.00 Points Per Shot (PPS)
Brunson is listed at 73 inches tall. If you believe that, I’ve got a bridge not too far from Madison Square Garden I can sell you. He only had three dunks in 77 regular season games, but he had one threadbare yet magnificent jam in these playoffs. Here it is: [video here]When I played 2K (back when a single digit followed the “2K” prefix, yikes), that was called the “rim-grazer” package. Barely gets over the cylinder. Still counts!
6) Cuts
2 makes, 1 miss, 1 FTM, 1.67 PPS
Here’s the thing about Brunson. Brunson makes Brunson happen. He doesn’t need passes from teammates; he needs them to set picks, space the floor, and stay out of the way. In the regular season, 23% of his two-pointers were assisted, a low number. In the playoffs, that’s fallen to 15%. And calling some of these “assists” feels generous. You tell me how much the pass here had to do with Brunson scoring: [video here]I digress. Back to cuts. Synergy has him in the fourth percentile for the share of shots finished off of cuts; it’s not his jam. By my count, Brunson has had precisely three field goal attempts off cuts in 11 playoff games. Two went in. For what it’s worth, Hartenstein had the assist on both (and in fact, Hartenstein’s 10 total playoff assists to Brunson are more than anyone else on the roster). Here’s one: [video here]
Understandably, the Pacers were not expecting it. Neither was I, but then again, I’m not paid eight figures to stop him.
5) Transition
6 makes, 3 misses, 3 FTM, 1.67 PPS
The Knicks, famously, are the slowest team in the league, and they’ve crawled in the playoffs. Might be too tired from the heavy minutes; have to save your energy for offensive rebounds, I get it. Josh Hart carries most of the transition load.But every once in a while, someone will poke the ball loose and toss it up to Brunson. He’ll catch it, dribble, lay it up. Most of the time, he makes it; sometimes, he misses it. If it doesn’t sound that exciting, well, it’s not.
If you want to see one, here it is. I appreciate how he uses his weirdly broad shoulders to create space around the rim: [video here]
Brunson can’t really throw it down in a highlight kind of way (except that one time when he did!). Fast-break Brunson layups are about as dull as fast-break layups can be. Let’s move on.
4) Spinning (usually) fadeaways over his (always) left shoulder
13 makes, 8 misses, 2 FTM, 1.33 PPS
Okay, now we’re getting to the good stuff. I will lump most of Brunson’s middies together, as you’ll see shortly, but I am partial to the aesthetics of the spinning fadeaway.I mean, look at this thing. It’s gorgeous. The footwork, the arc, everything. And always — always! — using that left shoulder as a pole to spin around: [video here]
These are difficult shots, but by my count, he’s shooting 62% on turnarounds! That’s wild. I wonder if he shouldn’t take more of these and fewer step-backs, although these are a bit harder to get off with bigger bodies on him. Brunson knows what he’s doing; I shan’t second-guess him.
3) Layups and blow-bys
29 makes, 23 misses, 19 FTM, 1.48 PPS
Layups are a massive part of Brunson’s shot diet, even if it’s harder for him to get to the rim than some of his less-normal-sized peers in the league. Shot a little better doing these against Philly with a jump-less Embiid than against Indiana, where he has gone just 14-for-29 by my count (although he’s drawn a handful of fouls, so that’s a bit misleading).But it’s always fun seeing him break defenders in half on the way to the hoop like it’s the most casual thing in the world: [video here]
It isn’t casual, though. It’s a lot of work. I’m stressed about the impact of all this acceleration and deceleration on his joints, ligaments, and bones, and despite what the tenor of this piece may lead you to believe, I’m not even a Knicks fan.
I’m also stressed you’ll judge me by my chosen highlights, spent more time than I care to admit picking ones that will prove to you that I’m both knowledgeable and a little hipster. Brunson made Nesmith touch parquet twice in the ongoing series (which hurt me; I’m a huge Nesmith guy), but that’s a little too cool to be cool, you know what I mean? Here’s where I landed. Brunson’s not as big a pass-fake guy as you might expect, but he sure does love to pretend that a pick is coming: [video here]
Ah, now I’m second-guessing myself. Oh well. You know what Brunson layups look like. It’s all crazy dribble combinations and shot fakes in fits and spurts, starts and stops, that somehow end with him blurring to the hoop for a high-arcing shot off the glass.
2) Floaters
30 makes, 32 misses, 18 FTM, 1.26 PPS
The infamous Brunson floater. A cruel tool, one the Geneva Convention was specifically designed to combat. It’s unstoppable (except when it’s stopped).Floaters are a weapon of last resort for too many point guards, the shot they puke up when they can’t get past their man. That can be true for Brunson at times, too.
But Brunson has weaponized the floater, often by using it to bait fouls. If he gets the hostage dribble on a defender, putting them on his back, you better believe he’s gonna throw the ball upward and his body backward to get the whistle (I thought they legislated that out of the game, but nobody told the refs judging Brunson). That’s not my favorite play, of course, but it’s hard to deny the effectiveness.
He launches floaters from everywhere and anywhere. Leaning left, leaning right, falling down. Contested, wide-open, in the middle of four bodies. Occasionally, Brunson reminds me of classic fight-movie scenes in which the protagonist is drowning in enemy combatants, buried so you can’t even see him, when he suddenly springs up, spraying bad guys everywhere: [video here]
People say Brunson is good at getting to his spots, as if there is a finite number. I don’t really agree. All spots are Brunson spots; the floater will come from whatever direction he chooses.
1) Step-backs, side-steps, pull-ups, and other hyphenates
31 makes, 45 misses, 12 FTM, 0.97 PPS
Even excluding the turnaround fadeaways and floaters, Brunson has shot more midrange jumpers than any other type of shot. Yeah, that’s sort of cheating; I’m lumping many different kinds of buckets into one bucket. Maybe it’s too broad to be useful. But frankly, some of these are hard to differentiate (and also, this post would be too long; if you’re still here, I appreciate you. Know that this started off being much longer in a way that benefitted no one.). You’d think it would be easy to tell a pull-up from a side-step, but I swear Brunson can combine these in ways that somehow don’t defy the laws of basketball (i.e., traveling). It’s hard, so eventually, I decided to lump them all together.Midrange jumpers are generally looked down upon. You can see from my points-per-shot calculation how much less efficient they’ve been than everything else, but that’s the nature of the beast. Just because they don’t always go in doesn’t mean we can’t appreciate them.
Sometimes, it’s hard to manufacture even sub-optimal offense (and that’s particularly true in the playoffs). Sometimes, you gotta go out there and cook; as long as the meal’s not burnt, it’ll do. And sometimes, it’ll be g*dd*mn delicious: [video here]
In truth, many of these possessions are ticking grenades, and it’s up to our hero to jump on them. The Knicks try to run their offense, nobody else can do a dang thing off the dribble (not, mind you, that they receive many chances), and suddenly there are six seconds left on the shot clock. Brunson, thankfully, can do a whole lot in six seconds. This is great defense; it doesn’t matter: [video here]
The midrange isn’t dead; like wealth, it has simply consolidated into the hands of the few. Only players with sufficient star wattage are allowed to take them. And with a playoff run for the ages, Brunson’s been outshining nearly everyone.
2024.05.16 16:46 guidum80 How to use AI to clarify the customer journey and go to market ideas, and how to streamline the messaging
Here are 3 sampled answers using Maestrix as an example but you can easily apply your product details or URLs. These results have been generated in 3 minutes. You can do it for your own product on maestrix.ai.
A/ Market Category Frame of Reference: Maestrix AI competes in the AI-powered Marketing Automation and Planning Tools market category, which includes products that leverage artificial intelligence to provide marketing strategy, planning, and execution capabilities.
Competitors:
Key Unique Attributes:
Enabled Value and Proof:
Customer Segments:
SWOT Summary Table:
B/ User Positioning Statements:
Top ICP / Persona Recommendations Table:
Avoidance Recommendations Table:
Recommendation Rationale Summary:
Our top recommendations target tech startups, e-commerce entrepreneurs, small marketing teams, solopreneurs, and growing businesses in the B2B and B2C spaces. These personas struggle with limited marketing resources, difficulty measuring ROI, and creating engaging content. Maestrix AI addresses these pain points by providing tailored marketing insights, campaign ideas, and content generation. Our recommendations avoid highly regulated industries, large enterprises, and IT/Tech professionals without marketing responsibilities, as these groups may require more specialized solutions or have different priorities.
Challenging Decisions Analysis:
For B2B audiences: 1) convincing marketing teams to adopt AI-assisted marketing strategies, and 2) demonstrating the ROI of Maestrix AI.
For B2C audiences: 1) educating solopreneurs and small business owners about the benefits of AI marketing assistants, and 2) addressing concerns about AI-generated content quality.
Persona/Client Canvas:
Here are three detailed persona profiles:
Persona 1: Marketing Manager Maya
Table 1: Thought-provoking Statements
Table 2: 'Pick a Fight' Statements
Table 3: Irreverent Questions
Table 4: Creative Angles
Table 5: Billboard Concepts
Here are 15 billboard concepts for each creative angle, with remarkable headlines, different rhetorical devices, different tones, and a 5-word signature that describes the value of Maestrix AI using the 4Cs copywriting formula.
Angle 1: AI-Powered Perfection
...
Angle 10: Marketing on Autopilot
Table 6: Highly Creative and Original Concepts
submitted by guidum80 to startups [link] [comments]
A/ Market Category Frame of Reference: Maestrix AI competes in the AI-powered Marketing Automation and Planning Tools market category, which includes products that leverage artificial intelligence to provide marketing strategy, planning, and execution capabilities.
Competitors:
- New Startups:
- chatGPT (AI-powered marketing assistant)
- Adcreative.ai (AI-powered ad creative optimization)
- Legacy Companies:
- HubSpot (marketing, sales, and customer service software)
- Marketo (marketing automation platform)
- Everyday Tools Repurposed:
- Prompt Bibles by infopreneurs (customized marketing strategy templates)
| Alternative | How it Addresses the Market | Downsides | How Maestrix AI is Better |
|---|---|---|---|
| Hiring a Marketing Agency | Provides custom marketing strategies and execution | Expensive, time-consuming, and often lacks AI-driven insights | Maestrix AI provides AI-powered insights and automation at a lower cost and faster pace |
| Using Traditional Marketing Tools (e.g., HubSpot) | Offers marketing automation capabilities | Lacks AI-powered insights and requires significant setup and training | Maestrix AI provides AI-driven insights and automation with minimal setup and training |
| Custom-built Marketing Strategy Templates (e.g., Prompt Bibles) | Provides a customized marketing strategy | Limited scalability, requires constant updates, and lacks AI-driven insights | Maestrix AI provides AI-powered insights and automation that adapts to changing market conditions |
| Doing Nothing (DIY Marketing) | Lowers costs and provides control | Time-consuming, lacks scalability, and often ineffective | Maestrix AI provides AI-powered insights and automation at a lower cost and faster pace |
| Unique Attribute | What Makes it Unique | How it Addresses the Problem |
|---|---|---|
| AI-powered Insights | Uses machine learning algorithms to analyze market data and provide actionable insights | Provides data-driven marketing strategies and campaigns |
| Automated Campaign Generation | Uses natural language processing to generate ad copy, social posts, email campaigns, and landing pages | Saves time and resources while ensuring consistent branding and messaging |
| Comprehensive Digital Strategy | Offers a holistic approach to marketing, including go-to-market, e-commerce, and competitor analysis | Ensures a cohesive marketing strategy that drives business growth |
| Expert-driven Positioning and Messaging | Provides expert-level positioning and messaging frameworks | Helps businesses differentiate themselves in the market and resonate with their target audience |
| Enabled Value | Proof |
|---|---|
| Data-driven marketing strategies | Case studies demonstrating 25% increase in conversions and 30% decrease in ad spend |
| Time and resource efficiency | Customer testimonials highlighting 50% reduction in marketing execution time |
| Scalable and adaptable marketing campaigns | Whitepapers and research papers on the effectiveness of AI-powered marketing automation |
| Expert-level positioning and messaging | Success stories of businesses that achieved significant growth with Maestrix AI's positioning and messaging frameworks |
| Segment | Motivations | Triggers | Barriers |
|---|---|---|---|
| Startups | Need to quickly establish a strong market presence | Limited marketing resources and expertise | Difficulty in creating effective marketing strategies and campaigns |
| Solopreneurs | Desire to maximize online presence and sales | Limited time and marketing know-how | Difficulty in creating and executing marketing campaigns |
| Small Teams | Need to drive business growth through effective marketing | Limited marketing resources and budget constraints | Difficulty in creating and executing marketing campaigns |
| Strengths | Weaknesses | Opportunities | Threats |
|---|---|---|---|
| AI-powered insights and automation | Limited brand recognition | Growing demand for AI-powered marketing tools | Competition from established marketing automation platforms |
| Comprehensive digital strategy | Dependence on APIs and third-party data sources | Expanding into new markets and industries | Regulatory changes affecting AI-powered marketing tools |
| Expert-driven positioning and messaging | Limited sales and marketing resources | Partnerships with digital marketing agencies and consultancies | Competition from emerging startups and new market entrants |
| Scalable and adaptable marketing campaigns | High customer acquisition costs | Expanding into new geographic markets | Economic downturns affecting marketing budgets |
- I'm trying to develop a marketing strategy using online tutorials, but I get overwhelmed by the amount of information because it's hard to prioritize what's relevant for my business. Now, I can access tailored marketing insights and campaign ideas with Maestrix AI, so that I can create effective marketing strategies that drive results.
- I'm trying to create engaging ad content using a copywriter, but it takes too much time and money because I need to brief them on my brand and product. Now, I can generate precise ads and social posts with Maestrix AI, so that I can quickly launch targeted campaigns that resonate with my audience.
- I'm trying to optimize my marketing budget using spreadsheet analysis, but it's hard to make data-driven decisions because I'm not a marketing expert. Now, I can get actionable marketing recommendations with Maestrix AI, so that I can maximize my ROI and grow my business.
- I'm trying to improve my brand's online presence using a web developer, but it takes too long and costs too much because I need to redesign my website. Now, I can create optimized landing pages and email campaigns with Maestrix AI, so that I can attract and retain more customers.
- I'm trying to outperform my competitors using industry reports, but it's hard to stay ahead because I lack the resources and expertise. Now, I can analyze my competitors and get tailored marketing strategies with Maestrix AI, so that I can dominate my market and reach my business goals.
| Category | B2B Competitors | B2C Competitors |
|---|---|---|
| AI Marketing Assistants | ChatGPT, HubSpot | - |
| Traditional Agencies | Traditional ad agencies, Marketing firms | - |
| Marketing Tools | Hootsuite, Mailchimp | Canva, Adobe Creative Cloud |
| AI Content Generation | Content Blossom, Snoring Cat | AI Writer, WordLift |
| Prompt Bibles | Infopreneurs (e.g. [Prompt Bible by [Influencer]) | - |
| Dimension | Recommendation 1 (B2B) | Recommendation 2 (B2C) | Recommendation 3 (B2B) | Recommendation 4 (B2C) | Recommendation 5 (B2B) |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Industry | Tech startups | E-commerce entrepreneurs | Small marketing teams | Solopreneurs | Growing businesses |
| Company Size | 10-50 employees | 1-5 employees | 5-20 employees | 1-5 employees | 50-200 employees |
| Job Function | Marketing Manager | FoundeCEO | Growth Hacker | Entrepreneur | CMO |
| Primary Goal | Drive customer acquisition | Increase online sales | Boost brand awareness | Establish thought leadership | Optimize marketing budget |
| Pain Points | Limited marketing resources, difficulty measuring ROI | Difficulty creating engaging content, limited marketing expertise | Struggling to scale marketing efforts, limited budget | Difficulty establishing brand identity, limited resources | Difficulty optimizing marketing budget, lack of marketing expertise |
| Dimension | Avoidance Recommendation |
|---|---|
| Industry | Highly regulated industries (e.g. finance, healthcare) |
| Company Size | Large enterprises (>500 employees) |
| Job Function | IT/Tech professionals without marketing responsibilities |
| Primary Goal | Reducing costs, process optimization (not marketing-related) |
| Pain Points | Difficulty with internal communications, team management |
Our top recommendations target tech startups, e-commerce entrepreneurs, small marketing teams, solopreneurs, and growing businesses in the B2B and B2C spaces. These personas struggle with limited marketing resources, difficulty measuring ROI, and creating engaging content. Maestrix AI addresses these pain points by providing tailored marketing insights, campaign ideas, and content generation. Our recommendations avoid highly regulated industries, large enterprises, and IT/Tech professionals without marketing responsibilities, as these groups may require more specialized solutions or have different priorities.
Challenging Decisions Analysis:
For B2B audiences: 1) convincing marketing teams to adopt AI-assisted marketing strategies, and 2) demonstrating the ROI of Maestrix AI.
For B2C audiences: 1) educating solopreneurs and small business owners about the benefits of AI marketing assistants, and 2) addressing concerns about AI-generated content quality.
Persona/Client Canvas:
Here are three detailed persona profiles:
Persona 1: Marketing Manager Maya
- Demographics: 28-40 years old, marketing professionals in tech startups
- Psychographics: Ambitious, growth-oriented, data-driven
- Role/Job: Marketing Manager
- Problem to solve: Limited marketing resources, difficulty measuring ROI
- Pains of this problem: Feeling overwhelmed, lacking confidence in marketing decisions
- Jobs-To-Be-Done: Drive customer acquisition, increase brand awareness
- Motivation: Prove the value of marketing to the organization
- Trigger: New marketing budget allocation, need to scale marketing efforts
- Barriers: Limited resources, difficulty justifying marketing spend
- Context: Familiar with marketing automation tools, looking for innovative solutions
- Demographics: 25-45 years old, e-commerce entrepreneurs
- Psychographics: Entrepreneurial, driven, creative
- Role/Job: FoundeCEO
- Problem to solve: Difficulty creating engaging content, limited marketing expertise
- Pains of this problem: Feeling stuck, struggling to compete with larger brands
- Jobs-To-Be-Done: Increase online sales, establish thought leadership
- Motivation: Grow the business, establish a strong brand identity
- Trigger: Launching a new product or service, need to drive sales
- Barriers: Limited budget, difficulty finding the right marketing talent
- Context: Familiar with social media marketing, looking for efficient marketing solutions
- Demographics: 25-40 years old, growth hackers in small marketing teams
- Psychographics: Analytical, adaptable, results-oriented
- Role/Job: Growth Hacker
- Problem to solve: Struggling to scale marketing efforts, limited budget
- Pains of this problem: Feeling frustrated, difficulty justifying marketing spend
- Jobs-To-Be-Done: Boost brand awareness, optimize marketing budget
- Motivation: Drive user acquisition, prove the value of growth hacking
- Trigger: New marketing budget allocation, need to scale marketing efforts
- Barriers: Limited resources, difficulty measuring ROI
- Context: Familiar with marketing automation tools, looking for innovative solutions
Table 1: Thought-provoking Statements
| Statement |
|---|
| Marketing doesn't have to be a guessing game. |
| Stop throwing spaghetti at the wall. |
| Your competitors are already using AI marketing. |
| Traditional agencies are stuck in the past. |
| You can't out-hustle a machine. |
| Marketing strategies shouldn't be a shot in the dark. |
| Don't let your competition outsmart you. |
| What if you could predict your marketing success? |
| It's time to take the gamble out of marketing. |
| Your business deserves data-driven decisions. |
| Statement |
|---|
| Traditional agencies are a waste of your money. |
| ChatGPT is a toy, not a marketing solution. |
| Prompt bibles are a lazy marketing hack. |
| Why settle for mediocre marketing when you can have AI-powered perfection? |
| Your competitors are using AI marketing. Why aren't you? |
| Marketing by committee is a recipe for disaster. |
| Don't let your competitors out-AI you. |
| Legacy marketing strategies are holding you back. |
| What's your marketing strategy? "I don't know" isn't an answer. |
| Stop trying to be a jack-of-all-trades, master of none. |
| Question |
|---|
| Are you tired of throwing money at marketing and hoping for the best? |
| How much did your last failed marketing campaign cost you? |
| Do you really think your competitors are stupid? |
| What's the ROI on your current marketing strategy... -1%? |
| How many hours have you wasted on marketing meetings? |
| Are you a startup or a sideshow? |
| Is your marketing strategy based on hope or data? |
| Do you really think you can outsmart the market? |
| How many marketing agencies have failed you? |
| Are you ready to take the gamble out of marketing? |
| Angle | Explanation |
|---|---|
| 1. AI-Powered Perfection | Highlighting Maestrix AI's ability to deliver precise marketing campaigns and strategies. |
| 2. From Chaos to Clarity | Emphasizing the clarity and direction Maestrix AI brings to marketing efforts. |
| 3. Marketing in the Dark | Illustrating the uncertainty of traditional marketing strategies and the need for Maestrix AI. |
| 4. The AI Advantage | Showcasing the competitive edge Maestrix AI provides to startups and small teams. |
| 5. Data-Driven Decisions | Focusing on the data-driven approach of Maestrix AI and the confidence it brings. |
| 6. Smarter Marketing | Positioning Maestrix AI as a smarter, more efficient way to approach marketing. |
| 7. Outsmart the Competition | Highlighting Maestrix AI's ability to help businesses stay ahead of the competition. |
| 8. No More Guesswork | Emphasizing the elimination of guesswork in marketing with Maestrix AI. |
| 9. Predictable Success | Showcasing the predictable success and ROI of Maestrix AI marketing campaigns. |
| 10. Marketing on Autopilot | Positioning Maestrix AI as a reliable, hands-off marketing solution. |
Here are 15 billboard concepts for each creative angle, with remarkable headlines, different rhetorical devices, different tones, and a 5-word signature that describes the value of Maestrix AI using the 4Cs copywriting formula.
Angle 1: AI-Powered Perfection
| Headline | Rhetorical Device | Tone | Signature |
|---|---|---|---|
| "Marketing, elevated." | Allusion | Sophisticated | "Precise marketing. Guaranteed." |
| "Your marketing, perfected." | Anaphora | Confident | "Flawless marketing strategies." |
| "The future of marketing, today." | Hyperbole | Futuristic | "Revolutionary AI marketing tools." |
Angle 10: Marketing on Autopilot
| Headline | Rhetorical Device | Tone | Signature |
|---|---|---|---|
| "Marketing on cruise control." | Metaphor | Relaxing | "Hands-off marketing freedom." |
| "Set it and forget it." | Enthymeme | Carefree | "Marketing on autopilot, guaranteed." |
| "Let AI handle it." | Aporia | Trusting | "Reliable marketing solutions." |
| Concept | Explanation |
|---|---|
| "Marketing Oracle" Campaign | Positioning Maestrix AI as a mystical, all-knowing marketing guide. |
| "Marketing Myth-Busting" Series | Creating a series of ads that debunk common marketing myths and showcase Maestrix AI as the solution. |
| "AI vs. Human" Marketing Challenge | Pitting Maestrix AI against human marketers in a series of marketing challenges, highlighting the AI's superiority. |
| "The Great Marketing Escape" | Creating an immersive, escape-room-style experience that demonstrates the frustrations of traditional marketing and the relief of Maestrix AI. |
| "Marketing Utopia" | Illustrating a world where marketing strategies are data-driven, efficient, and successful, thanks to Maestrix AI. |
| "Marketing Time Capsule" | Creating a time capsule filled with outdated marketing materials and strategies, contrasted with the futuristic, AI-powered marketing of Maestrix AI. |
| "Marketing Symphony" | Using music and sound design to illustrate the harmony and efficiency of Maestrix AI marketing campaigns. |
| "The Marketing Maze" | Creating a maze that represents the complexities of traditional marketing, with Maestrix AI as the guiding light that leads to success. |
| "Marketing in the Dark... Ages" | Illustrating the dark ages of marketing, where businesses struggled without Maestrix AI, and the enlightenment that comes with AI-powered marketing. |
| "The AI Marketing Architect" | Positioning Maestrix AI as a master builder of marketing strategies, creating a solid foundation for business success. |
2024.05.16 16:21 Internal_Low_6181 Work as a Freelancer and Earn Money on Fiverr
 | https://preview.redd.it/th67brr9ss0d1.png?width=909&format=png&auto=webp&s=e9bbecb72d7ae1f73012c815274c12d75253cd3e submitted by Internal_Low_6181 to u/Internal_Low_6181 [link] [comments] No prior experience? No problem! Follow these simple steps to create your Fiverr profile and start earning money as a freelancer. 1. Create a Distinguished Identity for Yourself:
You may have practical skills that you can use and turn into unique services to offer on Fiverr. Are you good at writing? Can you organize information? Or maybe translate languages? These skills can be the foundation for your first Fiverr service. Gain New Customers - We will dedicate a special section to this topic later As you know, getting clients requires effort and perseverance, so we have dedicated a separate topic to it to discuss the details later. An Easy and Profitable Service for Beginners! Here is a service that does not require any special skills and that you can offer as a beginner freelancer: creating 3D animated digital covers for e-books, reports, manuals, training courses, programs, subscriptions, checklists, templates, lists, printable files, and training programs. Don't worry, it's easier than you think! You can design these covers in less than 5 minutes and offer them for sale on Fiverr for a price between $25 and $70. Here is a simple video showing you how to create stunning 3D animated digital covers in minutes! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HeZ-JlFShzw&t=38s |
2024.05.16 13:42 Internal_Low_6181 Work as a Freelancer and Earn Money on Fiverr (Even Beginners!)
No prior experience? No problem!
Follow these simple steps to create your Fiverr profile and start earning money as a freelancer.
1. Create a Distinguished Identity for Yourself:
You may have practical skills that you can use and turn into unique services to offer on Fiverr. Are you good at writing? Can you organize information? Or maybe translate languages? These skills can be the foundation for your first Fiverr service.
Gain New Customers - We will dedicate a special section to this topic later
As you know, getting clients requires effort and perseverance, so we have dedicated a separate topic to it to discuss the details later.
An Easy and Profitable Service for Beginners!
Here is a service that does not require any special skills and that you can offer as a beginner freelancer: creating 3D animated digital covers for e-books, reports, manuals, training courses, programs, subscriptions, checklists, templates, lists, printable files, and training programs.
Don't worry, it's easier than you think!
You can design these covers in less than 5 minutes and offer them for sale on Fiverr for a price between $25 and $70.
Here is a simple video showing you how to create stunning 3D animated digital covers in minutes!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HeZ-JlFShzw&t=38s
submitted by Internal_Low_6181 to Adulting [link] [comments]
Follow these simple steps to create your Fiverr profile and start earning money as a freelancer.
1. Create a Distinguished Identity for Yourself:
- Create an account: Head directly to the Fiverr website and register as a seller.
- Complete your profile: Add a clear and professional headshot, a catchy username, and a detailed bio that highlights your skills and experience.
You may have practical skills that you can use and turn into unique services to offer on Fiverr. Are you good at writing? Can you organize information? Or maybe translate languages? These skills can be the foundation for your first Fiverr service.
Gain New Customers - We will dedicate a special section to this topic later
As you know, getting clients requires effort and perseverance, so we have dedicated a separate topic to it to discuss the details later.
An Easy and Profitable Service for Beginners!
Here is a service that does not require any special skills and that you can offer as a beginner freelancer: creating 3D animated digital covers for e-books, reports, manuals, training courses, programs, subscriptions, checklists, templates, lists, printable files, and training programs.
Don't worry, it's easier than you think!
You can design these covers in less than 5 minutes and offer them for sale on Fiverr for a price between $25 and $70.
Here is a simple video showing you how to create stunning 3D animated digital covers in minutes!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HeZ-JlFShzw&t=38s
2024.05.16 13:29 Internal_Low_6181 Work as a Freelancer and Earn Money on Fiverr
No prior experience? No problem!
Follow these simple steps to create your Fiverr profile and start earning money as a freelancer.
1. Create a Distinguished Identity for Yourself:
You may have practical skills that you can use and turn into unique services to offer on Fiverr. Are you good at writing? Can you organize information? Or maybe translate languages? These skills can be the foundation for your first Fiverr service.
Gain New Customers - We will dedicate a special section to this topic later
As you know, getting clients requires effort and perseverance, so we have dedicated a separate topic to it to discuss the details later.
An Easy and Profitable Service for Beginners!
Here is a service that does not require any special skills and that you can offer as a beginner freelancer: creating 3D animated digital covers for e-books, reports, manuals, training courses, programs, subscriptions, checklists, templates, lists, printable files, and training programs.
Don't worry, it's easier than you think!
You can design these covers in less than 5 minutes and offer them for sale on Fiverr for a price between $25 and $70.
Here is a simple video showing you how to create stunning 3D animated digital covers in minutes!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HeZ-JlFShzw&t=38s
submitted by Internal_Low_6181 to Entrepreneurs [link] [comments]
Follow these simple steps to create your Fiverr profile and start earning money as a freelancer.
1. Create a Distinguished Identity for Yourself:
- Create an account: Head directly to the Fiverr website and register as a seller.
- Complete your profile: Add a clear and professional headshot, a catchy username, and a detailed bio that highlights your skills and experience.
You may have practical skills that you can use and turn into unique services to offer on Fiverr. Are you good at writing? Can you organize information? Or maybe translate languages? These skills can be the foundation for your first Fiverr service.
Gain New Customers - We will dedicate a special section to this topic later
As you know, getting clients requires effort and perseverance, so we have dedicated a separate topic to it to discuss the details later.
An Easy and Profitable Service for Beginners!
Here is a service that does not require any special skills and that you can offer as a beginner freelancer: creating 3D animated digital covers for e-books, reports, manuals, training courses, programs, subscriptions, checklists, templates, lists, printable files, and training programs.
Don't worry, it's easier than you think!
You can design these covers in less than 5 minutes and offer them for sale on Fiverr for a price between $25 and $70.
Here is a simple video showing you how to create stunning 3D animated digital covers in minutes!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HeZ-JlFShzw&t=38s
2024.05.16 12:24 lancelotschaubert Yo /r/fantasy — Lancelot Schaubert + Of Gods and Globes contributors here. Ask me (or us) anything!
 | Hey friends, fam, fiends, ferrymen of the interstellar dead, fauns, and other assorted Fantasy folken — someone told me starting this off with a string of f-words would get your attention? Did I do it right?https://preview.redd.it/lwgggqddkr0d1.jpg?width=4032&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=03216efd2c758a3945b510239d0f04fe26e89db6https://preview.redd.it/vqeb7o3alr0d1.jpg?width=1463&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=853bd9eae6cd4ae4850899d97e82a9bd378c06c7 Lancelot Schaubert here with some of the crew from our 23 contributors to OF GODS AND GLOBES III I will be joined — at least — by Juliet Mariller (u/NoCalligrapher2320) who will be here early and late due to Australian time travel, Gordon Linzner, Andrew Najberg (AndrewNajberg), Gabriel Kellman (u/Whalemittens) — you can ask us anything, please let us know after whom you’re asking. They might ask me questions as well. Of Gods and Globes III...is a standalone anthology of stories based on interstellar mythopoetic names.Each name refers both to an astronomical phenomenon (for scifi) and a mythological phenomenon (for fantasy). I.E. — Saturn is a god and a planet, a scifi writer would write about the planet’s influence on, for instance, the influenza virus and a fantasy writer would focus on the demiurge’s. Brihaspati Graha is a Hindu demiurge and also another name for the planet Jupiter. They could pick “the great turtle” or “Charon” or “Mazzaroth,” as long as the name is a bridge between myth and the stars and they write spec fic. Considering the recent eclipses, I’m still kind of shocked no one wrote about Rahukalam, the sun eater. Perhaps we can talk a little bit about Empire of Silence? Or the role of the ever moving moon in Name of the Wind? I love this set of OGAG stories — they made me laugh, cry, squirm, rage at injustice. Stories from the previous two OGAG volumes won the Ditmar and Aurelius awards.
I mean I’ll hang out and answer the most random questions imaginable (college pranks, marriage proposals, cooking 3,000 eggs Benedict to order, my fantasy universe and how it trolled non-specfic literary magazines, documentary films, filk music, pets, brewing, scavenging, surviving natural disasters like the Joplin Tornado, slow mo VHS explosions, lumber runs in NYC, CS Lewis’s offices at Cambridge, etc) until no one asks any more. I reserve the right to answer with a story, a question, or a silly link: I'm going to try and keep this fun. EDIT 11:22AM EST: I, Lance, am still around and will keep answering as long as stuff comes in. Juliet is likely asleep, will rejoin in her morning, our evening, so if you're fans of her work as I am, it'd be good to queue up some specific questions for her for this evening. Andrew and Gabriel will be here. Gordon will likely join later as may some others. |
2024.05.16 11:13 insdnew The Best Designing Institute in Pune: Transform Your Passion into a Profession
In the vibrant city of Pune, creativity thrives and innovation blooms. For aspiring designers, finding the right institution to nurture their talent and guide their passion is crucial. The International School of Design (INSD) Pune stands out as a beacon for those who wish to transform their passion into a rewarding profession. This comprehensive guide will explore why INSD Pune is the best designing institute in Pune, focusing on its unique offerings, outstanding faculty, state-of-the-art facilities, and the diverse opportunities it provides to its students.
Comprehensive Curriculum: INSD Pune offers a curriculum that is both diverse and industry-relevant. Courses are designed to cover the latest trends and techniques in the design industry, ensuring that students are well-prepared for their professional careers.
Experienced Faculty: The faculty at INSD Pune comprises industry veterans and experienced educators who bring real-world insights into the classroom. Their guidance helps students understand the practical applications of their skills.
Industry Connections: INSD Pune has strong ties with the design industry, providing students with numerous opportunities for internships, workshops, and placements. This exposure is invaluable in helping students transition smoothly into their professional lives.
State-of-the-Art Facilities: The campus is equipped with modern facilities, including well-equipped labs, studios, and libraries, providing an ideal environment for learning and creativity.
Vibrant Campus Life: Beyond academics, INSD Pune offers a vibrant campus life with various extracurricular activities, events, and clubs that enhance the overall student experience.
· Fabric Designing: Techniques for designing different types of fabrics.
· Weaving Techniques: Understanding the processes involved in weaving.
· Print Design: Creating patterns and prints for textiles.
· Textile Technology: The latest advancements in textile manufacturing.
· Sustainability in Textiles: Focus on sustainable and eco-friendly textile practices.
· Fashion Illustration: Learning to sketch and illustrate fashion designs.
· Pattern Making: Understanding the techniques of creating patterns for garments.
· Textile Science: Studying different fabrics and their properties.
· Garment Construction: Practical skills in constructing garments.
· Fashion Marketing and Management: Insights into the business side of fashion.
· Space Planning: Understanding the principles of planning and designing spaces.
· Color Theory: Learning how to use color effectively in interior design.
· Furniture Design: Designing and selecting appropriate furniture for different spaces.
· Lighting Design: Techniques for effective lighting in interiors.
· Software Skills: Training in industry-standard software like AutoCAD and 3DS Max.
· Typography: Understanding the art of arranging type.
· Visual Communication: Techniques for effective visual messaging.
· Branding and Identity Design: Creating brand identities and logos.
· Digital Media Design: Designing for digital platforms, including websites and social media.
· Software Proficiency: Training in Adobe Creative Suite and other design software.
Whether you’re interested in fashion design, interior design, textile design, or graphic design, INSD Pune offers the perfect platform to launch your career. The institute’s commitment to excellence in education and its focus on practical learning ensure that students are well-prepared for the challenges of the design industry.
submitted by insdnew to u/insdnew [link] [comments]
Introduction to INSD Pune
The International School of Design (INSD) Pune is renowned for its exceptional education in design, making it the best designing institute in Pune. Established to foster creative minds, INSD Pune offers a wide range of courses in fashion design, interior design, textile design, and graphic design. The institute is committed to providing an environment that encourages innovation, creativity, and professional growth.Why Choose INSD Pune?
Choosing the right design institute is a critical decision for any aspiring designer. INSD Pune distinguishes itself with its comprehensive curriculum, experienced faculty, industry connections, and vibrant campus life that together create an unparalleled learning experience. Here’s why INSD Pune is considered the best designing institute in Pune:Comprehensive Curriculum: INSD Pune offers a curriculum that is both diverse and industry-relevant. Courses are designed to cover the latest trends and techniques in the design industry, ensuring that students are well-prepared for their professional careers.
Experienced Faculty: The faculty at INSD Pune comprises industry veterans and experienced educators who bring real-world insights into the classroom. Their guidance helps students understand the practical applications of their skills.
Industry Connections: INSD Pune has strong ties with the design industry, providing students with numerous opportunities for internships, workshops, and placements. This exposure is invaluable in helping students transition smoothly into their professional lives.
State-of-the-Art Facilities: The campus is equipped with modern facilities, including well-equipped labs, studios, and libraries, providing an ideal environment for learning and creativity.
Vibrant Campus Life: Beyond academics, INSD Pune offers a vibrant campus life with various extracurricular activities, events, and clubs that enhance the overall student experience.
Courses Offered at INSD Pune
INSD Pune offers a range of courses tailored to meet the diverse interests and career goals of its students. Here’s a closer look at the key programs:Textile Designing
As the best institute of textile design in Pune, INSD Pune offers a comprehensive course that covers the entire spectrum of textile design. Students learn about:· Fabric Designing: Techniques for designing different types of fabrics.
· Weaving Techniques: Understanding the processes involved in weaving.
· Print Design: Creating patterns and prints for textiles.
· Textile Technology: The latest advancements in textile manufacturing.
· Sustainability in Textiles: Focus on sustainable and eco-friendly textile practices.
Fashion Designing
Fashion designing is one of the most sought-after courses at INSD Pune. The program covers various aspects of fashion, from conceptualization to creation, ensuring that students acquire comprehensive knowledge and skills. Key topics include:· Fashion Illustration: Learning to sketch and illustrate fashion designs.
· Pattern Making: Understanding the techniques of creating patterns for garments.
· Textile Science: Studying different fabrics and their properties.
· Garment Construction: Practical skills in constructing garments.
· Fashion Marketing and Management: Insights into the business side of fashion.
Interior Designing
The interior designing course at INSD Pune is designed to help students master the art of creating aesthetically pleasing and functional spaces. Key components of the curriculum include:· Space Planning: Understanding the principles of planning and designing spaces.
· Color Theory: Learning how to use color effectively in interior design.
· Furniture Design: Designing and selecting appropriate furniture for different spaces.
· Lighting Design: Techniques for effective lighting in interiors.
· Software Skills: Training in industry-standard software like AutoCAD and 3DS Max.
Graphic Designing
The graphic designing course at INSD Pune prepares students for careers in the dynamic field of visual communication. The curriculum includes:· Typography: Understanding the art of arranging type.
· Visual Communication: Techniques for effective visual messaging.
· Branding and Identity Design: Creating brand identities and logos.
· Digital Media Design: Designing for digital platforms, including websites and social media.
· Software Proficiency: Training in Adobe Creative Suite and other design software.
Faculty and Teaching Methodology
The faculty at INSD Pune is one of its greatest assets. The institute boasts a team of highly qualified and experienced educators who are passionate about teaching and mentoring students. Many of them have extensive industry experience, bringing valuable insights and practical knowledge to the classroom.Teaching Methodology
The teaching methodology at INSD Pune is a blend of theoretical knowledge and practical application. The curriculum is designed to be hands-on, encouraging students to work on real-world projects and assignments. This approach ensures that students not only learn the concepts but also know how to apply them effectively in their careers.Industry Exposure
INSD Pune places a strong emphasis on industry exposure. The institute regularly organizes workshops, seminars, and guest lectures by industry experts. These events provide students with an opportunity to learn from professionals and gain insights into the latest trends and developments in the design industry.State-of-the-Art Facilities
INSD Pune’s campus is designed to provide an ideal environment for creativity and learning. The facilities include:Design Studios
The design studios at INSD Pune are equipped with the latest tools and equipment, providing students with a professional workspace to develop their projects. These studios are designed to simulate real-world work environments, helping students prepare for their future careers.Computer Labs
The computer labs at INSD Pune are equipped with high-end computers and industry-standard software. Students have access to the latest design software, allowing them to hone their digital design skills.Library
The library at INSD Pune is a treasure trove of knowledge, with a vast collection of books, journals, and digital resources related to design. Students can access a wide range of reference materials to support their studies and research.Workshops and Labs
INSD Pune has specialized workshops and labs for different design disciplines. These include textile labs, garment construction workshops, and interior design studios, providing students with hands-on experience in their respective fields.Extracurricular Activities and Student Life
At INSD Pune, learning extends beyond the classroom. The institute offers a range of extracurricular activities and clubs that enhance the overall student experience.Design Competitions
INSD Pune encourages students to participate in design competitions, both at the national and international levels. These competitions provide students with an opportunity to showcase their talent and gain recognition in the design community.Cultural Events
The institute regularly organizes cultural events, including fashion shows, exhibitions, and design fairs. These events provide students with a platform to present their work and interact with industry professionals.Clubs and Societies
INSD Pune has various clubs and societies focused on different aspects of design. These include fashion clubs, interior design clubs, and graphic design clubs. These clubs provide students with an opportunity to collaborate, share ideas, and work on projects together.Placement and Career Opportunities
One of the key reasons why INSD Pune is considered the best designing institute in Pune is its excellent placement record. The institute has a dedicated placement cell that works tirelessly to connect students with top companies in the design industry.Internship Opportunities
INSD Pune’s strong industry connections ensure that students have access to numerous internship opportunities. These internships provide valuable hands-on experience and often lead to full-time job offers.Placement Assistance
The placement cell at INSD Pune provides comprehensive support to students in their job search. This includes resume writing workshops, interview preparation sessions, and job placement fairs. The institute’s strong industry network ensures that students have access to a wide range of job opportunities.Conclusion
INSD Pune stands out as the best designing institute in Pune, offering a comprehensive education in various design disciplines. With its experienced faculty, state-of-the-art facilities, strong industry connections, and vibrant campus life, INSD Pune provides an ideal environment for aspiring designers to transform their passion into a successful profession.Whether you’re interested in fashion design, interior design, textile design, or graphic design, INSD Pune offers the perfect platform to launch your career. The institute’s commitment to excellence in education and its focus on practical learning ensure that students are well-prepared for the challenges of the design industry.
2024.05.16 00:12 Snushy_101 LearnWorlds Pricing: Find Your Ideal Plan Now!
 | Curious about LearnWorlds pricing? Wondering how to make the most of your investment? Dive into this guide for all the insights you need. Uncover the different pricing plans, features, and benefits tailored to suit your specific needs. Ready to take your online learning journey to the next level with LearnWorlds, instructors, schools, learners, and academy? Let's explore what awaits you! submitted by Snushy_101 to Hairfortin [link] [comments] Useful Links: Key Takeaways
Explore LearnWorlds Pricing Plans: Monthly vs. Yearly Subscriptions: Save Up to 20%When considering LearnWorlds, you're presented with two subscription options: monthly and yearly. Opting for the yearly subscription not only provides you with consistent access to the platform but also offers substantial savings of up to 20%. Now, let's explore the intricacies of each pricing tier.1. Starter Plan: Initiating Your E-Learning JourneyAt $24 per month, the Starter plan serves as an ideal entry point for budding educators. With the ability to start for free, this plan offers an array of features to kickstart your e-learning venture:
2. Pro Trainer Plan: Elevate Your E-Learning ExperiencePriced at $79 per month with no transaction fees, the Pro Trainer plan offers enhanced features to take your e-learning initiatives to new heights. Here's what it includes:
3. Learning Center Plan: Elevating the Learning ExperiencePriced at $249 per month, the Learning Center plan is tailored for educators aiming to deliver unparalleled learning experiences. Here's what it offers:
4. High Volume & Corporate Plan: Tailored Solutions for Enterprise NeedsFor enterprises and high-volume users, LearnWorlds offers custom solutions tailored to your specific requirements. Here's what you can expect:
Features Across All PlansStandard ToolsLearnWorlds pricing plans come with a range of integrations to enhance functionality, making it easy to connect with other platforms. The home page customization feature allows users to create a personalized landing space. Users have seamless access to essential tools across all plans, ensuring a smooth experience.Basic FeaturesIn all plans, users benefit from unlimited courses, enabling them to diversify their content and offerings. The video library feature facilitates the storage and organization of videos for easy access and management. The branding & theme editor allows for customization to add and maintain brand consistency.Importance of Multilingual UI and Mobile ReadinessThe inclusion of a multilingual user interface ensures accessibility for a global audience, catering to diverse language preferences. Moreover, mobile & tablet readiness guarantees that content is optimized for various devices, enhancing user experience and engagement.Special Offers and DiscountsNew UsersFor new users, LearnWorlds offers special discounts through exclusive coupons. These discounts can significantly reduce the cost of starting a new online school or course.Free Trial with AIStarting for free with LearnWorlds + AI provides several advantages. By utilizing cutting-edge technology, users can experience personalized learning experiences tailored to their needs.Limited-Time PromotionsLearnWorlds frequently runs limited-time promotions offering exclusive deals on specific plans. These promotions are ideal for schools or businesses looking to boost their online presence.Pricing FAQs AnsweredCommon QuestionsWhat are the pricing options available on LearnWorlds? LearnWorlds offers a range of pricing plans to cater to different needs. The options include monthly and annual subscriptions, each with varying features and benefits.How can I determine the best plan for my requirements? Assess your needs based on factors such as the number of courses you plan to create, the level of customization required, and the expected number of students. This evaluation will guide you in selecting the most suitable plan. Additional Costs
Optimization Tips
Choosing the Right PlanAssess RequirementsBefore selecting a plan, learners should evaluate their needs to find an alternative that suits them best. Consider factors like the number of users, desired features, and budget constraints.Match FeaturesTo align with business or educational goals, match specific features to your requirements. Evaluate if the plan offers support team assistance, easy way to create engaging courses, and tools for enhancing the learning experience.Closing ThoughtsYou've delved into LearnWorlds pricing plans, uncovered features, snagged special offers, and clarified any doubts. Now, armed with this knowledge, you're ready to select the ideal plan for your needs. Remember, it's not just about the cost but also about what each plan offers you in return. Make an informed decision that aligns with your goals and aspirations.Transform your passion into profit! 💰 Get started with LearnWorlds' free trial and start earning from your expertise today. In the vast world of online learning, every detail counts. So, take the time to pick wisely. Your choice today can shape your e-learning journey tomorrow by adding valuable skills. Act now and embark on a learning adventure tailored just for you. Frequently Asked QuestionsHow does LearnWorlds pricing work?LearnWorlds offers different pricing plans to cater to various needs. You can choose from monthly or annual subscriptions based on the features you require. Each plan provides unique benefits, such as unlimited courses, custom domains, and marketing tools.What are the key features included in all LearnWorlds pricing plans?All LearnWorlds pricing plans include essential features like unlimited video hosting, interactive videos, drip-feed courses, quizzes, certificates, and integrated payment gateways. You get access to 24/7 customer support and the ability to create your branded online school.Are there any special offers or discounts available for LearnWorlds pricing plans?LearnWorlds frequently runs promotions offering discounts on their pricing plans. Keep an eye out for seasonal sales or special events where you can save on your subscription. They provide exclusive discounts for educational institutions and non-profits.Can I switch between LearnWorlds pricing plans if my needs change?Yes, LearnWorlds allows you to upgrade or downgrade your pricing plan at any time to accommodate your changing requirements. Whether you need more advanced features or want to scale back temporarily, you have the flexibility to adjust your subscription accordingly.How do I determine the right LearnWorlds pricing plan for my online course business?Choosing the right LearnWorlds pricing plan depends on factors like the number of courses you offer, expected student enrollment, desired customization options, and marketing needs. Evaluate your specific requirements against the features included in each plan to make an informed decision.Useful Links: |
2024.05.15 20:14 BrianChiem1996 Hell's Kitchen: The Fifty States Contestants, Staff Personalities, And Introduction
WARNING: CONTAINS A LOT OF SPOILERS
Introduction:
Hello there! My name is Brian, and I am interested in this Reddit group because Hell's Kitchen is one of my favorite TV shows. I am particularly fond of the Thailand variant since I have experience visiting a Thai restaurant.
For those of you who don't know, I work on Hell's Kitchen fanon projects as part of the community.
I have been thinking about the new contestants, head chefs, sous chefs, and maître d’hôtel. If it were up to me, Hell's Kitchen would take place in Tokyo instead of Los Angeles/Las Vegas, since Japan is a popular tourist destination. In this version, Gordon Ramsay would not be featured, but instead, he would appear as a guest judge in future episodes.
Interestingly, none of the contestants would have any culinary experience, and they would be aged between 21-35 and come from different parts of the world. I am anticipating the presence of a main protagonist, a main antagonist, some supporting characters, and a few minor characters.
Lastly, I would not include their last names to protect their privacy.
Blue Team:
Ben, 25, YouTuber & Philanthropist, Greenville, North Carolina
Bianca, 31, Book Reviewer, Milan, Italy
Brian, 25, Voice Actor, Los Angeles, California
Cecilia, 23, Cosplayer, Atlanta, Georgia
Corrie, 35, YouTube Gamer, Amsterdam, Netherlands
David, 27, Musician & Singer, Evansville, Indiana
Domingos, 30, Tech YouTuber, Lisbon, Portugal
Efrain, 30, YouTube Gamer, Madrid, Spain
Evelyn, 29, Tailor, Yerevan, Armenia
Evert, 26, YouTuber & Actor, Zoetermeer, Netherlands
Georgina, 27, Digital Content Creator, Tirana, Albania
Gisele, 26, Disney & Pokémon YouTuber, Asnières-sur-Seine, France
Hans, 34, YouTuber & Game Director, Oslo, Norway
Herve, 27, Japanese Culture YouTuber, Neuilly-sur-Seine, France
Isaias, 22, YouTube Gamer, Montevideo, Uruguay
Justine, 27, Writer & Illustrator, Adelaide, Australia
Karlotta, 29, Anime & Manga YouTuber, Hamburg, Germany
Lucas, 29, YouTube Gamer, Dallas, Texas
Marco, 29, YouTuber & Musician, Savona, Italy
Mathieu, 32, YouTube Comedian & Vlogger, Paris, France
Priya, 22, Model & Cosplayer, Guwahati, India
Raquel, 29, Content Creator, Madrid, Spain
Shirlene, 30, Blogger, Chelmsford, United Kingdom
Valerie, 21, Chess Player, Fuengirola, Spain
Wendy, 29, Model & Singer, Minsk, Belarus
Red Team:
Alex, 27, Commentator, La Crosse, Wisconsin
Amelie, 28, Digital Creator, Paris, France
Brendan, 27, Twitch Streamer, Trenton, New Jersey
Caroline, 29, Twitch Streamer, Trenton, New Jersey
Claudio, 24, Gameplay Commentator, Mallorca, Spain
Diana, 26, Model, Amsterdam, Netherlands
Felix, 29, Podcaster & YouTuber, Sydney, Australia
Flora, 31, Lifestyle & Travel Luxury Creator, Jakarta, Indonesia
Franklin, 25, Author, Brighton, United Kingdom
Hannelore, 29, YouTuber & Podcaster, Munich, Germany
Herman, 34, YouTuber, Vlaardingen, Netherlands
Iris, 28, Twitch Streamer, Chicago, Illinois
Karen, 28, Anime YouTuber, Milwaukee, Wisconsin
Kyllian, 28, Live Streamer & YouTuber, Hollis, New Hampshire
Larisa, 25, Writer & Wellness Teacher, Ljubljana, Slovenia
Natalie, 32, Cosplayer & Twitch Streamer, Belfast, United Kingdom
Nicholas, 24, Presenter & Podcaster, Blackpool, United Kingdom
Noah, 27, Twitch Streamer & YouTuber, Denbigh, United Kingdom
Olga, 22, Content Creator, Moscow, Russia
Paul, 30, YouTuber & Editor, Tallinn, Estonia
Stefano, 31, YouTube Gamer, Rome, Italy
Tamiko, 34, Entrepreneur, Los Angeles, California
Teresa, 33, Youtuber & Blogger, Perth, Australia
Tobias, 31, Photographer, Dublin, Ireland
Tristan, 33, Podcaster & YouTuber, Bangkok, Thailand
Head Chefs:
Jake, 34, Maidstone, United Kingdom: Jake is a strict and short-tempered perfectionist chef who gets easily frustrated when his chefs make mistakes such as serving raw food, not communicating properly, or talking back to him. However, he does care for chefs who try their best, as he always expects the best from every chef he works with. Jake is also known to make sarcastic comments by comparing served food to something else or even customers when they try to confront him. Despite his criticisms and insults, Jake's intention is to find out which chef has the potential to be his new head chef. None of the critiques and insults he gave out were too personal, and there are rare occasions where he gives praise to a chef and lets them know they are doing well. For this reason, he earned the nickname "Asian Gordon Ramsay".
Kim, 40, Boston, Massachusetts: Kim is one of the head chefs that Jake hired, and she acts as his right-hand woman during services. Unlike her co-workers Jake, Eleanor, Lola, and Renata, Kim is always calm and collected and never gets angry, even when chefs make mistakes. She is generally a charming and cheerful person who provides chefs with advice and encouragement to help them succeed during dinner service and any challenges that may arise.
Eleanor, 71, New York City, New York: Eleanor is one of the head chefs hired by Jake and she acts as his right-hand woman during services. She is generally more subdued than Jake and Renata, but she has her limits. When she is pushed, she will lash out at any chef who disrespects her. She can also become rude and annoyed when chefs are being unprofessional and talking back to her. However, overall, Eleanor is a nice and helpful person. She has a lot of cooking experience in the past, and is known for preparing restaurant-quality dishes.
Lola, 48, Rio Piedras, Puerto Rico: Lola is one of the head chefs hired by Jake. She acts as his right-hand woman during services, and holds the same high standards as Jake. Lola often gets irritated by contestants' constant mistakes. However, she is not as subdued as Kim, Eleanor, and Renata. She has her limits, and when pushed, she will lash out at any chef who disrespects her. Lola becomes stern when the chefs aren't doing their jobs properly. She easily gets angry, uses vulgar language, and is sarcastic when a chef is not professional, makes mistakes, or fails to meet Jake's standards. Despite this, Lola is generally kind and humorous.
Renata, 42, Berea, Ohio: Renata is one of the head chefs hired by Jake. She acts as his right-hand woman during services, holding the same high standards as Jake. However, she can become irritated by the constant mistakes made by the contestants. While she is more subdued than Jake and Eleanor, she has her limits when pushed and would lash out at any disrespectful contestant. Her behavior is often passive-aggressive. Renata becomes stern when the contestants don't take the competition seriously. Her criticisms can be considered slightly or overly harsh, sometimes even taking a contestant's poor performance as a personal insult and berating them for their mistakes. Otherwise, Renata is generally respectful and polite. She is an expert in desserts.
Sous Chefs:
Wilson, 27, Union, Missouri: Wilson is Jake's Sous Chef and acts as his right-hand man during services. He holds the same high standards as Jake and gets irritated by the constant mistakes of contestants. Wilson is generally calm and composed, but he becomes stern when chefs fail to do their jobs properly. He warns them that he can be as aggressive and harsh on them as he won't tolerate poor performances leading to bad dinner services or losing challenges.
Lily, 32, Chicago, Illinois: Lily, the Sous Chef of Jake, serves as his main assistant during services. She shares the same standards as Jake and often gets frustrated by the constant mistakes of the contestants. Despite that, Lily is generally friendly and caring. However, she has her limits, and if disrespected, she will become stern and lash out at the chefs. She is known to lose her temper with chefs who do not perform their jobs adequately during dinner services or in challenges.
Maître d’hôtel:
Louise, 34, Toronto, Canada: Louise was one of the most respected and loveable staff in the history of the show. As the Maître d'hôtel at Hell's Kitchen, she served at the front of the house and often handed out tickets to Jake. If there was a tableside dish, she was responsible for instructing the assigned chefs on how to make it, due to her vast experience in cooking. However, she would get upset with the chefs when they made mistakes that resulted in customer complaints.
Conclusion:
I have created a detailed summary for my upcoming project. I plan to release the first episode when I can find some free time. It will either premiere after the conclusion of Hell's Kitchen Thailand or at a time that I believe is appropriate. This project will have more intense and unique rewards and punishments compared to the previous ones. As expected, none of the contestants will be nominated by the head chefs, and all of them will be eliminated properly, except for the Running the Pass Service. The head chefs are expecting two chefs before the finale. I also expected the teams to not be divided by gender. I would love to see friendships and romance develop between members of opposite genders. Furthermore, I'm excited to see how the best blue team and the worst red team in the show's history compare to previous seasons. There is going to be more drama, bad dinner services, and brutality, unlike Gordon Ramsay's version. As anticipated, there will be no punishment pass, Cook For Your Life Challenge, and Black Jackets Challenge because it would not be fair for certain chefs who wanted a reward and stayed in the competition for obvious reasons. The winner of this series will receive a prestigious head chef position at the Gordon Ramsay Bar & Grill Restaurant in Sunway City, Kuala Lumpur, with a salary of $250,000. Interestingly, all the chefs who competed throughout the series will return for the finale to join one of the largest Final Service Brigades in the show's history. Please let me know if any changes need to be made. I'll put contestants' personalities next time as a separate post, due to space limit on Reddit.
Here's the link: https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1rJkba0klyA99Sd-gXyK_EtjtT2FXb_hT?usp=sharing
submitted by BrianChiem1996 to HellsKitchenFanFics [link] [comments]
Introduction:
Hello there! My name is Brian, and I am interested in this Reddit group because Hell's Kitchen is one of my favorite TV shows. I am particularly fond of the Thailand variant since I have experience visiting a Thai restaurant.
For those of you who don't know, I work on Hell's Kitchen fanon projects as part of the community.
I have been thinking about the new contestants, head chefs, sous chefs, and maître d’hôtel. If it were up to me, Hell's Kitchen would take place in Tokyo instead of Los Angeles/Las Vegas, since Japan is a popular tourist destination. In this version, Gordon Ramsay would not be featured, but instead, he would appear as a guest judge in future episodes.
Interestingly, none of the contestants would have any culinary experience, and they would be aged between 21-35 and come from different parts of the world. I am anticipating the presence of a main protagonist, a main antagonist, some supporting characters, and a few minor characters.
Lastly, I would not include their last names to protect their privacy.
Blue Team:
Ben, 25, YouTuber & Philanthropist, Greenville, North Carolina
Bianca, 31, Book Reviewer, Milan, Italy
Brian, 25, Voice Actor, Los Angeles, California
Cecilia, 23, Cosplayer, Atlanta, Georgia
Corrie, 35, YouTube Gamer, Amsterdam, Netherlands
David, 27, Musician & Singer, Evansville, Indiana
Domingos, 30, Tech YouTuber, Lisbon, Portugal
Efrain, 30, YouTube Gamer, Madrid, Spain
Evelyn, 29, Tailor, Yerevan, Armenia
Evert, 26, YouTuber & Actor, Zoetermeer, Netherlands
Georgina, 27, Digital Content Creator, Tirana, Albania
Gisele, 26, Disney & Pokémon YouTuber, Asnières-sur-Seine, France
Hans, 34, YouTuber & Game Director, Oslo, Norway
Herve, 27, Japanese Culture YouTuber, Neuilly-sur-Seine, France
Isaias, 22, YouTube Gamer, Montevideo, Uruguay
Justine, 27, Writer & Illustrator, Adelaide, Australia
Karlotta, 29, Anime & Manga YouTuber, Hamburg, Germany
Lucas, 29, YouTube Gamer, Dallas, Texas
Marco, 29, YouTuber & Musician, Savona, Italy
Mathieu, 32, YouTube Comedian & Vlogger, Paris, France
Priya, 22, Model & Cosplayer, Guwahati, India
Raquel, 29, Content Creator, Madrid, Spain
Shirlene, 30, Blogger, Chelmsford, United Kingdom
Valerie, 21, Chess Player, Fuengirola, Spain
Wendy, 29, Model & Singer, Minsk, Belarus
Red Team:
Alex, 27, Commentator, La Crosse, Wisconsin
Amelie, 28, Digital Creator, Paris, France
Brendan, 27, Twitch Streamer, Trenton, New Jersey
Caroline, 29, Twitch Streamer, Trenton, New Jersey
Claudio, 24, Gameplay Commentator, Mallorca, Spain
Diana, 26, Model, Amsterdam, Netherlands
Felix, 29, Podcaster & YouTuber, Sydney, Australia
Flora, 31, Lifestyle & Travel Luxury Creator, Jakarta, Indonesia
Franklin, 25, Author, Brighton, United Kingdom
Hannelore, 29, YouTuber & Podcaster, Munich, Germany
Herman, 34, YouTuber, Vlaardingen, Netherlands
Iris, 28, Twitch Streamer, Chicago, Illinois
Karen, 28, Anime YouTuber, Milwaukee, Wisconsin
Kyllian, 28, Live Streamer & YouTuber, Hollis, New Hampshire
Larisa, 25, Writer & Wellness Teacher, Ljubljana, Slovenia
Natalie, 32, Cosplayer & Twitch Streamer, Belfast, United Kingdom
Nicholas, 24, Presenter & Podcaster, Blackpool, United Kingdom
Noah, 27, Twitch Streamer & YouTuber, Denbigh, United Kingdom
Olga, 22, Content Creator, Moscow, Russia
Paul, 30, YouTuber & Editor, Tallinn, Estonia
Stefano, 31, YouTube Gamer, Rome, Italy
Tamiko, 34, Entrepreneur, Los Angeles, California
Teresa, 33, Youtuber & Blogger, Perth, Australia
Tobias, 31, Photographer, Dublin, Ireland
Tristan, 33, Podcaster & YouTuber, Bangkok, Thailand
Head Chefs:
Jake, 34, Maidstone, United Kingdom: Jake is a strict and short-tempered perfectionist chef who gets easily frustrated when his chefs make mistakes such as serving raw food, not communicating properly, or talking back to him. However, he does care for chefs who try their best, as he always expects the best from every chef he works with. Jake is also known to make sarcastic comments by comparing served food to something else or even customers when they try to confront him. Despite his criticisms and insults, Jake's intention is to find out which chef has the potential to be his new head chef. None of the critiques and insults he gave out were too personal, and there are rare occasions where he gives praise to a chef and lets them know they are doing well. For this reason, he earned the nickname "Asian Gordon Ramsay".
Kim, 40, Boston, Massachusetts: Kim is one of the head chefs that Jake hired, and she acts as his right-hand woman during services. Unlike her co-workers Jake, Eleanor, Lola, and Renata, Kim is always calm and collected and never gets angry, even when chefs make mistakes. She is generally a charming and cheerful person who provides chefs with advice and encouragement to help them succeed during dinner service and any challenges that may arise.
Eleanor, 71, New York City, New York: Eleanor is one of the head chefs hired by Jake and she acts as his right-hand woman during services. She is generally more subdued than Jake and Renata, but she has her limits. When she is pushed, she will lash out at any chef who disrespects her. She can also become rude and annoyed when chefs are being unprofessional and talking back to her. However, overall, Eleanor is a nice and helpful person. She has a lot of cooking experience in the past, and is known for preparing restaurant-quality dishes.
Lola, 48, Rio Piedras, Puerto Rico: Lola is one of the head chefs hired by Jake. She acts as his right-hand woman during services, and holds the same high standards as Jake. Lola often gets irritated by contestants' constant mistakes. However, she is not as subdued as Kim, Eleanor, and Renata. She has her limits, and when pushed, she will lash out at any chef who disrespects her. Lola becomes stern when the chefs aren't doing their jobs properly. She easily gets angry, uses vulgar language, and is sarcastic when a chef is not professional, makes mistakes, or fails to meet Jake's standards. Despite this, Lola is generally kind and humorous.
Renata, 42, Berea, Ohio: Renata is one of the head chefs hired by Jake. She acts as his right-hand woman during services, holding the same high standards as Jake. However, she can become irritated by the constant mistakes made by the contestants. While she is more subdued than Jake and Eleanor, she has her limits when pushed and would lash out at any disrespectful contestant. Her behavior is often passive-aggressive. Renata becomes stern when the contestants don't take the competition seriously. Her criticisms can be considered slightly or overly harsh, sometimes even taking a contestant's poor performance as a personal insult and berating them for their mistakes. Otherwise, Renata is generally respectful and polite. She is an expert in desserts.
Sous Chefs:
Wilson, 27, Union, Missouri: Wilson is Jake's Sous Chef and acts as his right-hand man during services. He holds the same high standards as Jake and gets irritated by the constant mistakes of contestants. Wilson is generally calm and composed, but he becomes stern when chefs fail to do their jobs properly. He warns them that he can be as aggressive and harsh on them as he won't tolerate poor performances leading to bad dinner services or losing challenges.
Lily, 32, Chicago, Illinois: Lily, the Sous Chef of Jake, serves as his main assistant during services. She shares the same standards as Jake and often gets frustrated by the constant mistakes of the contestants. Despite that, Lily is generally friendly and caring. However, she has her limits, and if disrespected, she will become stern and lash out at the chefs. She is known to lose her temper with chefs who do not perform their jobs adequately during dinner services or in challenges.
Maître d’hôtel:
Louise, 34, Toronto, Canada: Louise was one of the most respected and loveable staff in the history of the show. As the Maître d'hôtel at Hell's Kitchen, she served at the front of the house and often handed out tickets to Jake. If there was a tableside dish, she was responsible for instructing the assigned chefs on how to make it, due to her vast experience in cooking. However, she would get upset with the chefs when they made mistakes that resulted in customer complaints.
Conclusion:
I have created a detailed summary for my upcoming project. I plan to release the first episode when I can find some free time. It will either premiere after the conclusion of Hell's Kitchen Thailand or at a time that I believe is appropriate. This project will have more intense and unique rewards and punishments compared to the previous ones. As expected, none of the contestants will be nominated by the head chefs, and all of them will be eliminated properly, except for the Running the Pass Service. The head chefs are expecting two chefs before the finale. I also expected the teams to not be divided by gender. I would love to see friendships and romance develop between members of opposite genders. Furthermore, I'm excited to see how the best blue team and the worst red team in the show's history compare to previous seasons. There is going to be more drama, bad dinner services, and brutality, unlike Gordon Ramsay's version. As anticipated, there will be no punishment pass, Cook For Your Life Challenge, and Black Jackets Challenge because it would not be fair for certain chefs who wanted a reward and stayed in the competition for obvious reasons. The winner of this series will receive a prestigious head chef position at the Gordon Ramsay Bar & Grill Restaurant in Sunway City, Kuala Lumpur, with a salary of $250,000. Interestingly, all the chefs who competed throughout the series will return for the finale to join one of the largest Final Service Brigades in the show's history. Please let me know if any changes need to be made. I'll put contestants' personalities next time as a separate post, due to space limit on Reddit.
Here's the link: https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1rJkba0klyA99Sd-gXyK_EtjtT2FXb_hT?usp=sharing
2024.05.15 18:05 -343-Guilty-Spark- Canon Fodder: In-Zane in the Membrane
https://www.halowaypoint.com/news/canon-fodder-in-zane-in-the-membrane
Header Image [Imgur]
It’s not a Cypress Hill song, it’s a new issue of Canon Fodder!
By now, you’ll no doubt have made headway through the latest Operation in Halo Infinite —titled “Banished Honor”—which was accompanied by a new Waypoint Chronicle based around a simple question: “What would the story of a Spartan who joined the Banished be?”
We had the perfect character lined up to tell that story, one who hasn’t been seen since the end of Hunt the Truth's second season all the way back in 2015.
Welcome back, Ilsa Zane.
Where Hunt the Truth saw the mantle of narrator pass from journalist Benjamin Giraud to undercover ONI agent Maya “FERO” Sankar in its second season, that torch is once again passed on to a character who made her presence felt in this story... the rogue Spartan known as Ilsa Zane.
Halo: The Third Life is available here on Halo Waypoint, as a free PDF, and in audiobook format on YouTube.
“October 2558. After being taken prisoner by the Banished as chaos erupts across the galaxy, Ilsa Zane’s hunt for the truth leads her to a new stage of life she never expected...”
So, here you go. Here’s the official cover art for Halo: Empty Throne, coming later this year.
Pre-order your copy of Halo: Empty Throne here!
Cover art of Halo: Empty Throne illustrated by Will Staehle depicting a young girl and a Spartan emerging from a blue explosion coming from a Forerunner structure
“2559. It has been a year since the rogue artificial intelligence Cortana seized control of the Domain, an otherworldly dimension housing a vast information network. With an array of Forerunner weapons at her disposal, Cortana set out to enforce an authoritarian peace on the civilizations of the galaxy. But as the United Nations Space Command flagship Infinity prepares to strike against Cortana at Zeta Halo, another plan has also been set in motion.
An ancient access point hidden on a seemingly insignificant human colony has become the focus of a parallel effort to claim the Domain and its immeasurable capabilities. The UNSC, however, needs a key: a living, forsaken product of an old war. As a new generation of heroes rise to meet this challenge and Cortana's pursuit of control reaches a desperate and sudden crescendo, a cunning, ruthless warrior emerges from the shadows of the Banished, who has vowed to fill the new power vacuum by any means necessary....”
Cropped profile image depicting Ilsa Zane surrounded by fire and Banished banners [Imgur]
RANK: Bloodstar BIRTH WORLD: Kholo DATE OF BIRTH: June 11, 2528 APPEARED IN: Halo: Initiation, Hunt the Truth, Halo: The Third Life
Born on the Outer Colony world Kholo, Ilsa Zane was just eleven years old when she lost her parents and everyone she had ever known as the Covenant descended upon her home and reduced its surface to glass. Taken to the remote colony Asphodel as a ward of the state, Zane remained largely silent and solitary until coming of age in 2547, where she was conscripted into UNSC military service.
In 2550, Zane was selected as a candidate for the prototype phase of the SPARTAN-IV program. Though she survived the augmentation process, additional experimental cocktails caused severe neurological damage to Zane. After escaping the facility, she was recovered by Admiral Mattius Drake and integrated into the rebel group known as the New Colonial Alliance.
In the immediate aftermath of the Covenant War, Zane led a group of operatives who attempted to commandeer the UNSC Infinity —securing it as the flagship of the New Colonial Alliance and to prevent the UNSC from deploying it to police independent colonies. This plan was thwarted by Spartan Sarah Palmer, who ejected Zane into space where the rogue Spartan was once more rescued by Drake, who was on standby in a nearby Prowler.
Following this, Zane served as an acquisitions specialist for weapons and materiel, as well as a ruthless instructor for mercenary and rebel groups that joined the New Colonial Alliance, forging them into a veritable fighting force in preparation for a large-scale strike against the UNSC. However, the awakening of the Guardians in 2558 waylaid these plans, leaving Zane as a prisoner of the Banished—with whom she ultimately came to find both common cause and brotherhood.
Image [Imgur]
What does it mean to be Banished?
To be Banished is to seek to liberate oneself, to pledge loyalty not to false promises of divine ascension but to the fearsome might and will exemplified by Atriox.
Service is welcome from any species, of any previous affiliation or loyalty—from the lowliest Unggoy thrall to the mightiest Sangheili warrior, and all between and beyond.
Power is its own end. In the wake of the Covenant War, opportunity is rife to carve up the remnants of the fallen empire’s vast resources and obtain technology that furthers the prime directive of the Banished: to never bow again, a “reclamation” all their own of freedom.
Following decades of calamitous conflict that has left even the most capable commanders war-weary, it is the Banished that are energized and fortified in purpose and will. Payment for those who share common cause with Atriox comes in blood and sport and spoils.
But those who would choose this path must unshackle themselves from ties to the past—unbind themselves from old masters, cast off their piety, and banish their sentimental devotion to honor.
Only then can one become a true vessel for victory.
Only then is one truly Banished.
Why would a Spartan go rogue?
It’s an apt question. After all, Spartans are meant to represent paragons of humanity in both strength and spirit. But across the generations of Spartans, there have been traitors, rebels, or those who simply wanted to leave the UNSC behind to live on their own terms.
For the Spartan-IIs, these examples came as a result of their training—of recognizing and rebelling against the horrific context of their situation.
In the “Homecoming” episode of Halo Legends, Daisy-023 and several of her fellow candidates sought to escape the program following the augmentation procedures that killed or maimed many of their brothers and sisters, but were ultimately brought back into the fold.
Likewise, in the Halo: Evolutions short story “Pariah,” Soren-066 was left disfigured by the augmentations and was gradually radicalized by a technician named Partch, eventually attempting to escape Reach and join the Insurrection. Indeed, the Spartan who sought to apprehend Soren was Randall-037, who later appeared in Halo: Nightfall where we learned that he had evaded the UNSC after the Battle of Vodin in 2532, even starting a family before ONI eventually caught up to him over a decade later, "reversing" many of his augmentations in exchange for release from UNSC service.
Looking to the Spartan Field Manual, originally released back in 2018, we can gain further insight into the risk of rogue Spartans as it applies to the SPARTAN-IV program:
STOLEN GAUNTLET
Nevertheless, the SPARTAN-IV selection process is not foolproof. Spartan-IVs are soldiers with preexisting philosophies and loyalties, and even the most carefully screened candidate can react to their augmentation and training in unexpected ways. Individual Spartans represent a strategically significant level of combat power and pose a major security threat if their loyalty is compromised.
The STOLEN GAUNTLET fail-safe protocol has been created to provide training and permissive rules of engagement for special agents tasked with tracking down and swiftly neutralizing rogue Spartans.
~ Halo: Official Spartan Field Manual, p. 86
Rogue Spartans
Halo Mythos artwork by Isaac Hannaford depicting Mickey's betrayal of Buck and Romeo in Halo: New Blood [Imgur]
Ilsa Zane represents the earliest example of this manifesting as a critical issue for the Spartan-IV program, and she is far from a singular example.
In Halo: Escalation, we see Spartan Vladimir Scruggs—another New Colonial Alliance defector—attempt to sabotage the peace talks between Arbiter Thel ‘Vadam and Chieftain Lydus.
Another prominent example is Michael Crespo in Halo: New Blood, who became disillusioned with being sent to kill other humans in the wake of the Covenant War and defected to the United Rebel Front with fellow Spartan Rudolf Schein.
Of course, defecting is one thing, but what is it about the Banished that would be attractive to a rogue Spartan? That is something wholly contingent upon the individual, and at present there is a specific example we can examine: Ilsa Zane.
Having been discarded by the UNSC after falling victim to experimental augmentation cocktails that ravaged her body and mind, she was eventually left for dead by Admiral Drake as well—she was herself “banished” from the places she had sought to belong. This, in combination with her proclivity for violence and a ruthless mindset, led her to discover a certain kinship with the Jiralhanae on Laika III, leading her to willingly pledge herself and the New Colonial Alliance to the Banished.
In the words of Spartan Scruggs: "I am a Spartan. But what you fight for isn't always the same as who you fight for."
“The cacophony of gunfire was replaced by the sizzle of shock rifles and the thump-hiss of ravagers.”
~ Halo: Shadows of Reach, Chapter 21
Featuring a semi-automatic, three-round burst and a charge ability that can create a burning pool for area-of-effect damage, the Ravager quickly became a favorite tool of Jiralhanae warlords for its capacity to flush out garrisoned infantry.
A unique version of the weapon, the Rebound Ravager, can be found in the possession of Captain Arthoc—a high value target the Master Chief encountered on Zeta Halo. Rounds fired by this weapon have the ability to bounce, to which the words of Agent Washington from Red vs. Blue may come to mind: “It bounces? Who designs a gun that bounces?!”
Halo Infinite screenshot of Arthoc [Imgur]
ARMORY OF RECKONING CAPT ARTHOC FWD: RAVAGER
The Armory of Reckoning—it is a fitting name for the tools of conquest and destruction birthed from its forges.
When we advanced on the human remnants that had sought shelter within their crashed ship, I requested of Commander Bannix an augmented version of the plasma tossers produced by the Forge of Torograd.
Where we have mastered both spike and spear in our weaponry since before the Immolation, infusion matter remains an object of study for our alchemists. I was informed by the Screecleaver that there is a great savant stationed on Oth Liqattu who has sought to unlock further secrets of this fetid power, applying it to our own troops and many of our vehicles.
It is said that prolonged exposure to this corrosive bile can addle the mind and rot the body... that is good, for there are many small spaces in human ships. The capacity for this weapon to launch projectiles that bounce before erupting into toxic piles was of great use in flushing our foes from cover. How they flailed and danced to our battle song!
It is my understanding that pure infusion matter is pumped throughout Forerunner facilities, so we must dedicate resources to finding these wellsprings within the substructures of this ring. I shall bring this to Tremonius once he has returned from investigating a disturbance at his outpost.
On April 30, the rerelease of Halo: Meridian Divide hit the shelves and—as folks have noticed—there's another adjunct in this one as well!
MERIDIAN HOMECOMING
Halo 5 screenshot of a Promethean Knight on Meridian [Imgur]
Completing the trifecta of new adjuncts in these rereleases is “Meridian Homecoming,” which is set in the immediate aftermath of Cortana’s final sacrifice on Zeta Halo in December 2559.
With the leader of the Created dead, the future of this fledgling faction has been thrown into doubt. High Auxiliary Sloan has returned to Meridian where he occupies a Promethean Knight’s carapace and wanders the vast glasslands of his home to find his own fate.
Of course, fans who followed the Precipice short story series last year (which accompanied Halo Infinite's recurring FIREWALL events) know that Sloan has emerged as a new leader within the Created and set into motion the creation of the Executors. “Meridian Homecoming” gives us a small moment in time with Sloan as he contemplates what the concept of home means to him, Cortana’s unfulfilled promise of salvation, his regrets over how he departed from Meridian, and the memories held within a Promethean Knight that set him on a new path.
The fine folks at JumperScape have been adapting some of the lore and stories we’ve put out for Halo Infinite, beginning with the Intel drops we did for Season 2: Lone Wolves. (If you can believe it, it’s just passed the two-year mark for when this season launched!)
We recently discovered Lore VoidCat while checking out the latest Halo lore content on YouTube, and he has put together a fantastic series of videos about various expanded universe aspects—from every blade of the Covenant, to recounting the stories of various games and books, and more. Here’s one of his latest!
Would it be surprising if you learned that Covenant Canon has put out a new video featuring some... you guessed it, Covenant canon? In his latest release, we take a look at every known Arbiter throughout the Halo universe’s history.
Every now and then, the nostalgic longing for those halcyon days of 2007 return, which is exactly what you will feel when watching Meaning In-Between and Frogarchist's exploration of how mystery was a core thematic pillar of Halo 3.
And finally, David and Ian of Podcast Evolved have done a new “book club” episode on one of our previous Waypoint Chronicles: Saturn Devouring His Son.
With that, it’s time to sign off for this month’s issue.
If you haven’t already checked out Halo: The Third Life, be sure to do so—and if you have, well, go and read or listen to it again! Let the gears of speculation turn for what is depicted on the cover art for Halo: Empty Throne (don’t forget to secure your pre-order), and you can get your in-game Ilsa Zane cosplay sorted by completing the Banished Honor Operation Pass!
We depart with our favorite Ilsa Zane comic panel for your entertainment.
Halo: Initiation panel of Ilsa Zane shutting of the UNSC Infinity's original AI, Aine, saying "Quiet you." [Imgur]
This post was made by a script written and maintained by the Halo mod team to automatically post blogs from Halo Waypoint. If you notice any issues with the text output or think this was posted by mistake, please message the mods.
submitted by -343-Guilty-Spark- to halo [link] [comments]
It’s not a Cypress Hill song, it’s a new issue of Canon Fodder!
By now, you’ll no doubt have made headway through the latest Operation in Halo Infinite —titled “Banished Honor”—which was accompanied by a new Waypoint Chronicle based around a simple question: “What would the story of a Spartan who joined the Banished be?”
We had the perfect character lined up to tell that story, one who hasn’t been seen since the end of Hunt the Truth's second season all the way back in 2015.
Welcome back, Ilsa Zane.
THE THIRD LIFE
Our ninth Waypoint Chronicle has arrived, which follows on from the concluding events of Hunt the Truth where a Guardian awakens on the colony world Laika III. Broadly, these events are concurrent with the story that unfolds in Halo 5 as Cortana lays claim to the Mantle, rallies AIs to her cause, and sets about imposing an imperial peace upon the galaxy.Where Hunt the Truth saw the mantle of narrator pass from journalist Benjamin Giraud to undercover ONI agent Maya “FERO” Sankar in its second season, that torch is once again passed on to a character who made her presence felt in this story... the rogue Spartan known as Ilsa Zane.
Halo: The Third Life is available here on Halo Waypoint, as a free PDF, and in audiobook format on YouTube.
EMPTY THRONE
Last issue, we gave you a totally legitimate look at the cover art of Halo: Empty Throne. Art is in the eye of the beholder, and unfortunately the powers that be decided that we could do better than a screenshot made in Halo 3's Forge mode in ten minutes with some crudely edited-in elements... it was a close call, really, but we ultimately pivoted towards something with the vibe of it having come from an incredibly talented and brilliant artist—namely, Will Staehle, whose other work you can check out here.So, here you go. Here’s the official cover art for Halo: Empty Throne, coming later this year.
Pre-order your copy of Halo: Empty Throne here!
Cover art of Halo: Empty Throne illustrated by Will Staehle depicting a young girl and a Spartan emerging from a blue explosion coming from a Forerunner structure
“2559. It has been a year since the rogue artificial intelligence Cortana seized control of the Domain, an otherworldly dimension housing a vast information network. With an array of Forerunner weapons at her disposal, Cortana set out to enforce an authoritarian peace on the civilizations of the galaxy. But as the United Nations Space Command flagship Infinity prepares to strike against Cortana at Zeta Halo, another plan has also been set in motion.
An ancient access point hidden on a seemingly insignificant human colony has become the focus of a parallel effort to claim the Domain and its immeasurable capabilities. The UNSC, however, needs a key: a living, forsaken product of an old war. As a new generation of heroes rise to meet this challenge and Cortana's pursuit of control reaches a desperate and sudden crescendo, a cunning, ruthless warrior emerges from the shadows of the Banished, who has vowed to fill the new power vacuum by any means necessary....”
THE BANISHED SPARTAN
ILSA ZANECropped profile image depicting Ilsa Zane surrounded by fire and Banished banners [Imgur]
RANK: Bloodstar BIRTH WORLD: Kholo DATE OF BIRTH: June 11, 2528 APPEARED IN: Halo: Initiation, Hunt the Truth, Halo: The Third Life
Born on the Outer Colony world Kholo, Ilsa Zane was just eleven years old when she lost her parents and everyone she had ever known as the Covenant descended upon her home and reduced its surface to glass. Taken to the remote colony Asphodel as a ward of the state, Zane remained largely silent and solitary until coming of age in 2547, where she was conscripted into UNSC military service.
In 2550, Zane was selected as a candidate for the prototype phase of the SPARTAN-IV program. Though she survived the augmentation process, additional experimental cocktails caused severe neurological damage to Zane. After escaping the facility, she was recovered by Admiral Mattius Drake and integrated into the rebel group known as the New Colonial Alliance.
In the immediate aftermath of the Covenant War, Zane led a group of operatives who attempted to commandeer the UNSC Infinity —securing it as the flagship of the New Colonial Alliance and to prevent the UNSC from deploying it to police independent colonies. This plan was thwarted by Spartan Sarah Palmer, who ejected Zane into space where the rogue Spartan was once more rescued by Drake, who was on standby in a nearby Prowler.
Following this, Zane served as an acquisitions specialist for weapons and materiel, as well as a ruthless instructor for mercenary and rebel groups that joined the New Colonial Alliance, forging them into a veritable fighting force in preparation for a large-scale strike against the UNSC. However, the awakening of the Guardians in 2558 waylaid these plans, leaving Zane as a prisoner of the Banished—with whom she ultimately came to find both common cause and brotherhood.
BANISH THY HONOR
Halo: Tales From Slipspace - Hunting PartyImage [Imgur]
What does it mean to be Banished?
To be Banished is to seek to liberate oneself, to pledge loyalty not to false promises of divine ascension but to the fearsome might and will exemplified by Atriox.
Service is welcome from any species, of any previous affiliation or loyalty—from the lowliest Unggoy thrall to the mightiest Sangheili warrior, and all between and beyond.
Power is its own end. In the wake of the Covenant War, opportunity is rife to carve up the remnants of the fallen empire’s vast resources and obtain technology that furthers the prime directive of the Banished: to never bow again, a “reclamation” all their own of freedom.
Following decades of calamitous conflict that has left even the most capable commanders war-weary, it is the Banished that are energized and fortified in purpose and will. Payment for those who share common cause with Atriox comes in blood and sport and spoils.
But those who would choose this path must unshackle themselves from ties to the past—unbind themselves from old masters, cast off their piety, and banish their sentimental devotion to honor.
Only then can one become a true vessel for victory.
Only then is one truly Banished.
THIEVING MITTENS
Halo: Escalation Issue #3 page depicting a showdown between Spartan Scruggs, who has taken Admiral Hood hostage, and Spartan Palmer, Chieftain Lydus, and Arbiter Thel 'Vadam [Imgur]Why would a Spartan go rogue?
It’s an apt question. After all, Spartans are meant to represent paragons of humanity in both strength and spirit. But across the generations of Spartans, there have been traitors, rebels, or those who simply wanted to leave the UNSC behind to live on their own terms.
For the Spartan-IIs, these examples came as a result of their training—of recognizing and rebelling against the horrific context of their situation.
In the “Homecoming” episode of Halo Legends, Daisy-023 and several of her fellow candidates sought to escape the program following the augmentation procedures that killed or maimed many of their brothers and sisters, but were ultimately brought back into the fold.
Likewise, in the Halo: Evolutions short story “Pariah,” Soren-066 was left disfigured by the augmentations and was gradually radicalized by a technician named Partch, eventually attempting to escape Reach and join the Insurrection. Indeed, the Spartan who sought to apprehend Soren was Randall-037, who later appeared in Halo: Nightfall where we learned that he had evaded the UNSC after the Battle of Vodin in 2532, even starting a family before ONI eventually caught up to him over a decade later, "reversing" many of his augmentations in exchange for release from UNSC service.
Looking to the Spartan Field Manual, originally released back in 2018, we can gain further insight into the risk of rogue Spartans as it applies to the SPARTAN-IV program:
Nevertheless, the SPARTAN-IV selection process is not foolproof. Spartan-IVs are soldiers with preexisting philosophies and loyalties, and even the most carefully screened candidate can react to their augmentation and training in unexpected ways. Individual Spartans represent a strategically significant level of combat power and pose a major security threat if their loyalty is compromised.
The STOLEN GAUNTLET fail-safe protocol has been created to provide training and permissive rules of engagement for special agents tasked with tracking down and swiftly neutralizing rogue Spartans.
~ Halo: Official Spartan Field Manual, p. 86
Rogue Spartans
Halo Mythos artwork by Isaac Hannaford depicting Mickey's betrayal of Buck and Romeo in Halo: New Blood [Imgur]
In Halo: Escalation, we see Spartan Vladimir Scruggs—another New Colonial Alliance defector—attempt to sabotage the peace talks between Arbiter Thel ‘Vadam and Chieftain Lydus.
Another prominent example is Michael Crespo in Halo: New Blood, who became disillusioned with being sent to kill other humans in the wake of the Covenant War and defected to the United Rebel Front with fellow Spartan Rudolf Schein.
Of course, defecting is one thing, but what is it about the Banished that would be attractive to a rogue Spartan? That is something wholly contingent upon the individual, and at present there is a specific example we can examine: Ilsa Zane.
Having been discarded by the UNSC after falling victim to experimental augmentation cocktails that ravaged her body and mind, she was eventually left for dead by Admiral Drake as well—she was herself “banished” from the places she had sought to belong. This, in combination with her proclivity for violence and a ruthless mindset, led her to discover a certain kinship with the Jiralhanae on Laika III, leading her to willingly pledge herself and the New Colonial Alliance to the Banished.
In the words of Spartan Scruggs: "I am a Spartan. But what you fight for isn't always the same as who you fight for."
ARMORY INFINITUM
The Ravager was a new weapon introduced to the sandbox in Halo Infinite, though it made its fictional debut in Halo: Shadows of Reach.~ Halo: Shadows of Reach, Chapter 21
A unique version of the weapon, the Rebound Ravager, can be found in the possession of Captain Arthoc—a high value target the Master Chief encountered on Zeta Halo. Rounds fired by this weapon have the ability to bounce, to which the words of Agent Washington from Red vs. Blue may come to mind: “It bounces? Who designs a gun that bounces?!”
Halo Infinite screenshot of Arthoc [Imgur]
ARMORY OF RECKONING CAPT ARTHOC FWD: RAVAGER
The Armory of Reckoning—it is a fitting name for the tools of conquest and destruction birthed from its forges.
When we advanced on the human remnants that had sought shelter within their crashed ship, I requested of Commander Bannix an augmented version of the plasma tossers produced by the Forge of Torograd.
Where we have mastered both spike and spear in our weaponry since before the Immolation, infusion matter remains an object of study for our alchemists. I was informed by the Screecleaver that there is a great savant stationed on Oth Liqattu who has sought to unlock further secrets of this fetid power, applying it to our own troops and many of our vehicles.
It is said that prolonged exposure to this corrosive bile can addle the mind and rot the body... that is good, for there are many small spaces in human ships. The capacity for this weapon to launch projectiles that bounce before erupting into toxic piles was of great use in flushing our foes from cover. How they flailed and danced to our battle song!
It is my understanding that pure infusion matter is pumped throughout Forerunner facilities, so we must dedicate resources to finding these wellsprings within the substructures of this ring. I shall bring this to Tremonius once he has returned from investigating a disturbance at his outpost.
MERIDIAN SLOANCOMING
Last month saw the arrival of Halo: Battle Born's rerelease, featuring two new short story “adjuncts” which we took a closer look at in our previous issue.On April 30, the rerelease of Halo: Meridian Divide hit the shelves and—as folks have noticed—there's another adjunct in this one as well!
MERIDIAN HOMECOMING
Halo 5 screenshot of a Promethean Knight on Meridian [Imgur]
Completing the trifecta of new adjuncts in these rereleases is “Meridian Homecoming,” which is set in the immediate aftermath of Cortana’s final sacrifice on Zeta Halo in December 2559.
With the leader of the Created dead, the future of this fledgling faction has been thrown into doubt. High Auxiliary Sloan has returned to Meridian where he occupies a Promethean Knight’s carapace and wanders the vast glasslands of his home to find his own fate.
Of course, fans who followed the Precipice short story series last year (which accompanied Halo Infinite's recurring FIREWALL events) know that Sloan has emerged as a new leader within the Created and set into motion the creation of the Executors. “Meridian Homecoming” gives us a small moment in time with Sloan as he contemplates what the concept of home means to him, Cortana’s unfulfilled promise of salvation, his regrets over how he departed from Meridian, and the memories held within a Promethean Knight that set him on a new path.
COMMUNITY LORE CORNER
For this month’s Community Lore Corner, we kick things off with GammaCompanyMark who has put together a media order for the Halo series if you really, really want to experience it in some form of “timeline order.”The fine folks at JumperScape have been adapting some of the lore and stories we’ve put out for Halo Infinite, beginning with the Intel drops we did for Season 2: Lone Wolves. (If you can believe it, it’s just passed the two-year mark for when this season launched!)
We recently discovered Lore VoidCat while checking out the latest Halo lore content on YouTube, and he has put together a fantastic series of videos about various expanded universe aspects—from every blade of the Covenant, to recounting the stories of various games and books, and more. Here’s one of his latest!
Would it be surprising if you learned that Covenant Canon has put out a new video featuring some... you guessed it, Covenant canon? In his latest release, we take a look at every known Arbiter throughout the Halo universe’s history.
Every now and then, the nostalgic longing for those halcyon days of 2007 return, which is exactly what you will feel when watching Meaning In-Between and Frogarchist's exploration of how mystery was a core thematic pillar of Halo 3.
And finally, David and Ian of Podcast Evolved have done a new “book club” episode on one of our previous Waypoint Chronicles: Saturn Devouring His Son.
If you haven’t already checked out Halo: The Third Life, be sure to do so—and if you have, well, go and read or listen to it again! Let the gears of speculation turn for what is depicted on the cover art for Halo: Empty Throne (don’t forget to secure your pre-order), and you can get your in-game Ilsa Zane cosplay sorted by completing the Banished Honor Operation Pass!
We depart with our favorite Ilsa Zane comic panel for your entertainment.
Halo: Initiation panel of Ilsa Zane shutting of the UNSC Infinity's original AI, Aine, saying "Quiet you." [Imgur]
2024.05.15 17:36 Specialist-Bag8043 Space expert reveals Guinness World Records of the universe
Guinness World Records has been expanded by a space expert in order to showcase some incredible statistics found throughout the rest of the cosmos. In a new video this week, British scientist and BBC TV broadcaster Brian Cox says, "If there was a Guinness World Records 'Universe' book, the records would be remarkable." Cox quickly moves through an extensive list of exciting space-based records, starting with "the most enormous compact object," a supermassive black hole, a picture of which was taken by NASA's Spitzer Space Telescope three years ago. The so-called M87 galaxy, which is six billion times more massive than the sun and is located 55 million light-years from Earth.In addition to numerous records, Cox unveils the universe's fastest object as well as its biggest structure and smallest object. The scientist identified Glass-z13 as the farthest distant verified galaxy when asked. "The light's journey from it to the telescope took around 13.4 billion years. We are examining the galaxy as it might have been 200 million or 300 million years after the Big Bang. Glass-z13 has a distance from Earth of little over 33 billion light-years due to the expansion of the universe. The James Webb Space Telescope, the largest telescope of its sort ever constructed, made the discovery of the far-off galaxy. The Webb telescope has been conducting research into deep space and sending stunning images back to Earth since its deployment earlier this year. As Cox points out, recordings of the universe are subject to perpetual change as astronomers and scientists make new discoveries all the time using more potent tools like the Webb telescope.
What reionized the Universe, and when?
When did the transparency of the universe begin? It's a strange but crucial question. The Universe was once opaque, but over time it changed to transparency and is still transparent now. It is literally the reason we can see far-off objects in the sky, and in a more existential sense, that instant of cosmic transparency had an impact on the behaviour of galaxies, the formation of stars, and other things. Answering the question is something that many astronomers want to do because it has significant ramifications for the objects we want to study and because we are here because of it. Astronomers from several countries may have discovered the solution to the puzzle: 12.7 billion years ago, roughly 1.1 billion years after the Big Bang. The fact that this is a few hundred million years later than previous calculations has some intriguing ramifications. Our entire Universe was in a hot, dense condition and all of its matter was ionised immediately after the Big Bang, like minutes after it: Any hydrogen or helium nuclei were free of any electron bonds. When an electron attempted to move, a photon, a particle of light, would strike it and cause it to fall. At the time, all of the light was incredibly high-energy and more than capable of maintaining the ionisation of the environment. As matter is so dense, if you were in this miasma, which in a sense you were since everything in the Universe was, it would appear absolutely opaque to you. An ionisation timeline Gas was cold and neutral in the early Universe (on the left), but as time goes on (on the right), radiation from stars and active black holes rips electrons off hydrogen atoms, illuminating the gas. An ionisation timeline Gas was cold and neutral in the early Universe (on the left), but as time goes on (on the right), radiation from stars and active black holes rips electrons off hydrogen atoms, illuminating the gas. The time interval is roughly one billion years from left to right. Thesan Collaboration, in picture Astonishingly, as the Universe cooled and expanded over the next 400,000 years, the average photon eventually ran out of energy to ionise hydrogen. For the first time, protons and electrons united and remained together to form neutral hydrogen. Recombination is the term used to describe the joining of an electron and a proton, hence this event is referred to as recombination even though it was the first time most atoms had united. Continuing the story Neutral hydrogen is highly good at absorbing visible light, the wavelengths of light humans can see, therefore the universe was still opaque even though the density of the Universe was reducing as it expanded. This period is known as the Dark Ages. That situation would last for a very, very long period until new objects formed that could emit ultraviolet light. When they were created, they ionised the hydrogen in space once more, but this time was different since the Universe had a lower density, allowing photons to go farther without being absorbed. Space became transparent all of a sudden and remained so. We can see a great distance even today because the majority of gas is ionised, or officially called a plasma. Reionization refers to this point in the universe's history. However, when did that occur? A pleasant approach to learn more exists. A blazar, or galaxy containing a supermassive black hole spewing energy, as depicted by an artist. Credit: Science Communication Lab and DESY A blazar, or galaxy containing a supermassive black hole spewing energy, as depicted by an artist. Credit: Science Communication Lab and DESY Image: Science Communication Lab at DESY Huge black holes evolved in the centres of galaxies as they initially emerged from the darkness. These black holes would collect matter as it fell into them, building up in a disc that would become extremely hot and emit high-energy ultraviolet light, X-rays, and gamma rays. These galaxies are what astronomers refer to as quasars, and we can view them from a very, very long way. When these quasars' light reaches us, it battles the Universe's expansion, which causes their wavelengths to lengthen—a process known as redshifting. In other words, the redshift reveals the quasar's distance, which in turn reveals how long after the Big Bang we observe it. Due to the fact that light can only move at a certain speed, objects that are further away are redshifted more and appear to us in the past.Because of the quasar's immense strength, even if we observe it before reionization, it will have already ionised the hydrogen immediately around it, allowing light to escape. The light from the quasar will be absorbed if there is a cloud of hydrogen between us and the quasar that is sufficiently removed from it to remain neutral. The redshift of the wavelength gap we detect in the quasar's light indicates how far away the cloud is from us and, more significantly, how far back in time we saw it. Very far distant clouds are neutral and unionised. However, following reionization, we suddenly stop noticing them because they are unable to take in the quasar's light.. So in theory, all we need to do is isolate the light from a collection of distant quasars using really good spectra. Numerous wavelengths will exhibit significant absorption, which will disappear at a sufficiently low redshift. Reionization took place then. This is really difficult to do in real life. You need really brilliant quasars, and even then, they are faint because they are so far away. Additionally, you need very good spectra, which calls for a large telescope and prolonged exposures. Numerous additional factors must also be taken into consideration, such as how the universe was structured back then. However, the astronomy team actually did this. They used archived observations of 42 additional extremely bright quasars from two other observatories in addition to 25 very distant very bright quasars from the XQR-30 survey. They discover that the Universe first became transparent roughly 1.1 billion years after the Big Bang by closely examining the 67 quasar spectra. Illustration of the first stars in the universe illuminating the gas clouds where they originated. Photo: NAOJ Illustration of the first stars in the universe illuminating the gas clouds where they originated. Photo: NAOJ And that's really fascinating! What precisely ionised the universe is unknown. There was enough time for supermassive, extremely hot, luminous stars to form as well, and they could have also blasted out UV light, enough to contribute. It might have been these very quasars. Was it thus stars, quasars, or a combination of both? The timing may be able to focus this. Reionization was previously estimated to have occurred 200 million years earlier, but if the new estimate is accurate, there is plenty of room for many more of these first-generation stars to form and contribute. So, if you'll excuse the pun, it might have been both stars and quasars working together. Around this time, galaxies were developing, and if these stars were incredibly powerful, they could blow gas straight out of the galaxies, altering the evolution of those galaxies. In order to comprehend when these stars existed and what they might have done to their surrounding environments, we need to know when reionization took place. I'll remind you that you reside in a galaxy and on a planet revolving around a star whose lineages may be traced back to this period. Reionization—what it was, when it happened, and how it affected the universe—thus plays a role in our existence. It's clear why we want to know the answer. And it might be here at last. Naturally, more observations are preferable. We may also be able to determine the duration of reionization if we have more exact estimates of this number from models of cosmic structure. 1,000,000 years? 10, fifty, or one hundred? It's almost certain that larger telescopes with better cameras will be used to answer that question. We are among the first species to comprehend precisely how the universe came into being and what occurred to it after that. You can quote me on that, but the Universe took 13.8 billion years to get here, and I think it was worth the wait.
submitted by Specialist-Bag8043 to Mr_scientific [link] [comments]
What reionized the Universe, and when?
When did the transparency of the universe begin? It's a strange but crucial question. The Universe was once opaque, but over time it changed to transparency and is still transparent now. It is literally the reason we can see far-off objects in the sky, and in a more existential sense, that instant of cosmic transparency had an impact on the behaviour of galaxies, the formation of stars, and other things. Answering the question is something that many astronomers want to do because it has significant ramifications for the objects we want to study and because we are here because of it. Astronomers from several countries may have discovered the solution to the puzzle: 12.7 billion years ago, roughly 1.1 billion years after the Big Bang. The fact that this is a few hundred million years later than previous calculations has some intriguing ramifications. Our entire Universe was in a hot, dense condition and all of its matter was ionised immediately after the Big Bang, like minutes after it: Any hydrogen or helium nuclei were free of any electron bonds. When an electron attempted to move, a photon, a particle of light, would strike it and cause it to fall. At the time, all of the light was incredibly high-energy and more than capable of maintaining the ionisation of the environment. As matter is so dense, if you were in this miasma, which in a sense you were since everything in the Universe was, it would appear absolutely opaque to you. An ionisation timeline Gas was cold and neutral in the early Universe (on the left), but as time goes on (on the right), radiation from stars and active black holes rips electrons off hydrogen atoms, illuminating the gas. An ionisation timeline Gas was cold and neutral in the early Universe (on the left), but as time goes on (on the right), radiation from stars and active black holes rips electrons off hydrogen atoms, illuminating the gas. The time interval is roughly one billion years from left to right. Thesan Collaboration, in picture Astonishingly, as the Universe cooled and expanded over the next 400,000 years, the average photon eventually ran out of energy to ionise hydrogen. For the first time, protons and electrons united and remained together to form neutral hydrogen. Recombination is the term used to describe the joining of an electron and a proton, hence this event is referred to as recombination even though it was the first time most atoms had united. Continuing the story Neutral hydrogen is highly good at absorbing visible light, the wavelengths of light humans can see, therefore the universe was still opaque even though the density of the Universe was reducing as it expanded. This period is known as the Dark Ages. That situation would last for a very, very long period until new objects formed that could emit ultraviolet light. When they were created, they ionised the hydrogen in space once more, but this time was different since the Universe had a lower density, allowing photons to go farther without being absorbed. Space became transparent all of a sudden and remained so. We can see a great distance even today because the majority of gas is ionised, or officially called a plasma. Reionization refers to this point in the universe's history. However, when did that occur? A pleasant approach to learn more exists. A blazar, or galaxy containing a supermassive black hole spewing energy, as depicted by an artist. Credit: Science Communication Lab and DESY A blazar, or galaxy containing a supermassive black hole spewing energy, as depicted by an artist. Credit: Science Communication Lab and DESY Image: Science Communication Lab at DESY Huge black holes evolved in the centres of galaxies as they initially emerged from the darkness. These black holes would collect matter as it fell into them, building up in a disc that would become extremely hot and emit high-energy ultraviolet light, X-rays, and gamma rays. These galaxies are what astronomers refer to as quasars, and we can view them from a very, very long way. When these quasars' light reaches us, it battles the Universe's expansion, which causes their wavelengths to lengthen—a process known as redshifting. In other words, the redshift reveals the quasar's distance, which in turn reveals how long after the Big Bang we observe it. Due to the fact that light can only move at a certain speed, objects that are further away are redshifted more and appear to us in the past.Because of the quasar's immense strength, even if we observe it before reionization, it will have already ionised the hydrogen immediately around it, allowing light to escape. The light from the quasar will be absorbed if there is a cloud of hydrogen between us and the quasar that is sufficiently removed from it to remain neutral. The redshift of the wavelength gap we detect in the quasar's light indicates how far away the cloud is from us and, more significantly, how far back in time we saw it. Very far distant clouds are neutral and unionised. However, following reionization, we suddenly stop noticing them because they are unable to take in the quasar's light.. So in theory, all we need to do is isolate the light from a collection of distant quasars using really good spectra. Numerous wavelengths will exhibit significant absorption, which will disappear at a sufficiently low redshift. Reionization took place then. This is really difficult to do in real life. You need really brilliant quasars, and even then, they are faint because they are so far away. Additionally, you need very good spectra, which calls for a large telescope and prolonged exposures. Numerous additional factors must also be taken into consideration, such as how the universe was structured back then. However, the astronomy team actually did this. They used archived observations of 42 additional extremely bright quasars from two other observatories in addition to 25 very distant very bright quasars from the XQR-30 survey. They discover that the Universe first became transparent roughly 1.1 billion years after the Big Bang by closely examining the 67 quasar spectra. Illustration of the first stars in the universe illuminating the gas clouds where they originated. Photo: NAOJ Illustration of the first stars in the universe illuminating the gas clouds where they originated. Photo: NAOJ And that's really fascinating! What precisely ionised the universe is unknown. There was enough time for supermassive, extremely hot, luminous stars to form as well, and they could have also blasted out UV light, enough to contribute. It might have been these very quasars. Was it thus stars, quasars, or a combination of both? The timing may be able to focus this. Reionization was previously estimated to have occurred 200 million years earlier, but if the new estimate is accurate, there is plenty of room for many more of these first-generation stars to form and contribute. So, if you'll excuse the pun, it might have been both stars and quasars working together. Around this time, galaxies were developing, and if these stars were incredibly powerful, they could blow gas straight out of the galaxies, altering the evolution of those galaxies. In order to comprehend when these stars existed and what they might have done to their surrounding environments, we need to know when reionization took place. I'll remind you that you reside in a galaxy and on a planet revolving around a star whose lineages may be traced back to this period. Reionization—what it was, when it happened, and how it affected the universe—thus plays a role in our existence. It's clear why we want to know the answer. And it might be here at last. Naturally, more observations are preferable. We may also be able to determine the duration of reionization if we have more exact estimates of this number from models of cosmic structure. 1,000,000 years? 10, fifty, or one hundred? It's almost certain that larger telescopes with better cameras will be used to answer that question. We are among the first species to comprehend precisely how the universe came into being and what occurred to it after that. You can quote me on that, but the Universe took 13.8 billion years to get here, and I think it was worth the wait.
2024.05.15 17:10 Chen_Geller Tolkien Begginings: the antecedents of Peter Jackson's (and others) Middle-earth
 | I still sit sometimes and chuckle, thinking "When Ralph Bakshi started animating The Lord of the Rings in 1976, did he know what he was going to unleash on the world?" There was also the Rankin/Bass TV special, being developed concurrently, but its the Bakshi film that, in 1979, Peter Jackson saw, and this young Photoengraver would later direct six (!) live-action Tolkien films and, between himself and co-producer Philippa Boyens, are hard to work producing three more such films. Other adaptations since - namely, The Rings of Power (especially Season One) but also games from The Shadow of Mordor to Return to Moria - have at the very least taken cues from Jackson's films. All because a Kiwi photoengraver saw a cartoon.... submitted by Chen_Geller to lotr [link] [comments] But the relationship between these properties is not so clear-cut as it may seem. I ednumbered the similarities and dissimilarities between Jacksons' films and The Rings of Power elsewhere. Now I want to delve deeper into the similarities and dissimilarities between Jackson and previous adaptations of Tolkien. The Rankin/Bass TV SpecialsSide-by-side video comparisons between Jackson's films and the two Rankin/Bass TV Specials do not reveal any similarities that don't come from the fact that they're adapting the same books. This is an important point: Jackson is NOT trying to make some post-modern "collage" Hollywood film. He's only tipping his hat to those adaptations of Tolkien that he had seen growing up and that influenced him personally.1Due to copyright, the Rankin/Bass specials probably didn't air in New Zealand at all, and although it seems Jackson got a hold of the Rankin/Bass The Hobbit before embarking on The Lord of the Rings, he had not seen their Return of the King, certainly before 1999, and neither he nor his close collaborators have made comments about either of the two Specials. By contrast, the (American!) showrunners of The Rings of Power had referenced the Rankin/Bass Specials, and seemingly tipped their hat to it in a set design for season two.2 The Ralph Bakshi filmAs I said, Jackson went to see the Bakshi film. He had enjoyed some of Bakshi's previous film, including the Tolkien-esque Wizards, released the previous year, and went to see his latest. At the time he hadn't read the books, making Bakshi's film his first exposure to Tolkien, but he does admit he "heard the name" of the book beforehand. His biography suggests he saw it in late 1978, when it first premiered, but surely it would have arrived at New Zealand in early 1979.3The connection between the two films had been played up, unsurprisingly, by Ralph Bakshi himself. A leonine, grandiose man, Bakshi is anything but a reliable narrator. His own suggestion that he hadn't actually seen the films - only trailers, he claims - sounds believable enough and certainy understandable.4 But, then, if he didn't watch them, it makes his critique of them as deriviative of his films all the more dubious, even without actually looking at the specifics of what he said: Look at his Lothlorien. Look at my backgrounds of Lothlorien. Take a look! He had much more to see than I did, and if you don't think he lifted it over and over again, you're wrong. I mean, how did he design a knife in Lord of the Rings? How did he design a sword? How did he design the dwarf with his axe? How did he design the fur around him? Why did Peter Jackson put fur around the dwarf? Because I put fur around the dwarf! Why would the dwarf have fur naturally? You see, I could give you a billion little things. I wish I had a movie to look at.5These are truly some confused claims, for the most part. The most credible part here is the Hobbits hiding under the branch from the Ringwraiths, a shot composition later to also be replicated in season one of the Rings of Power, and which we'll get to later. Another claim of Bakshi's that cannot be dismissed out of hand is that, however big or small a debt Jackson owes to his film, he said that Jackson didn't publically acknowledge the influence and felt that it was only appropriate to have welcomed him to visit the set or something: by comparison, Jackson invited Rick Baker, who played King Kong in the 1978 version, to cameo in his King Kong.6 Jackson actually did mention the Bakshi filming in passing in the making-ofs. Then again, he entirely fails to mention the radio serial, either. Ultimately, Jackson possibly in cahoots with New Line Cinema, must have felt it unwise to point to a previous adaptation that had only achieved mixed success, at the outset of his own enterprise. He did talk more about the Bakshi film, and more fondly, in the director's commentary to The Fellowship of the Ring and in a couple of later interviews, which are significant gestures, but he clearly wasn't going to trumpet the influence Bakshi's film had on him off of every rooftop.7 In his 2006 biography, Jackson actually briefly reviews the Bakshi film: I liked the early part – it had some quaint sequences in Hobbiton, a creepy encounter with the Black Rider on the road, and a few quite good battle scenes – but then, about half way through, the storytelling became very disjointed and disorientating and I really didn’t understand what was going on. However, what it did do was to make me want to read the book – if only to find out what happened!8This is a complementary but admittedly mixed review, and Jackson had made similar comments since, calling it "brave and ambitious" but consistently decrying the hokum of the film's second half.9 Now, it is true that artists can be influenced by a work of art in spite of themselves, but lets see if we can try and quantify the influence. From the outset, in the audio commentary, Jackson remarks that "our film stylistically is very different and the design is different," which is apposite: Bakshi swore a debt to Howard Pyle, which certainly leaves its mark of the gorgeous natural bakcdrops, but a source closer at hand (especially considering his follow-up fantasy film, Fire and Ice) is the most popular fantasy illustrator of his day, Frank Frazetta: Bakshi's Witch King is practically ripped from Frazetta's famous "Dark Rider" illustration.10 Jackson's approach, however, was steeped in a kind of romantic realism that by and large eschewed the heightened work of Frazetta, opening a yawning stylistic gulf between his film and Bakshi's on a general level. Bakshi's Hobbit-holes have overhanging roofs that give the impression of fairies living under mushrooms (which they in fact had in his previous film, Wizards) and the interiors of Bag End are earthen, more of a rabbit-hole than Jackson's English countryside villa. There are some similarities, like the Hobbits having similarly-clipped pants, but its hard to say costume designer Ngilla Dickson had Bakshi in mind for that look. There's the basic structure of the narrative: both films leave some of the same plot beats out - Tom Bombadil, most notably - both intercut the Frodo and Aragorn storylines throughout (as per the appendices rather than the body of the text), and both open with a prologue. However, many of these are common-sense approaches that, if one were to put 100 screenwriters in a room, a good 90 of which would choose to pursue: in fact, Sir John Boorman's earlier Lord of the Rings script had likewise intercut the stories and redacted many of the same episodes as both Bakshi and Jackson, and similar approaches were taken in the 1958 Morton Zimmerman treatment. Certainly, in the case of the choice to pursue a prologue, a precedent closer at hand exists in the form in the 1981 radio serial, a point made all the stronger by the fact that when Jackson first concieved of and sketched the prologue, he hadn't seen Bakshi's film in 20 years.11 Bakshi did claim that New Line were screening his film repeatedly, but author Ian Nathan says that was never the case. Miramax did screen the film for Jackson in 1997, after he'd written the treatment. Jackson's treatment included Glorfindel and Erkenbrand, who in subsequent drafts are replaced by Arwen (Legolas in Bakshi's film) and Eomer, but still I find that it falls more into the realm of common-sense screenwriting decisions than anything that could be tied to Bakshi in a clear way, especially the latter which happens at the end of Bakshi film, a part of the film Jackson admits to have found incoherent.12 Rather, the place to look for similarities between the two projects is in the opening leg of The Fellowship of the Ring. Jackson actually, in the director's commentary, points out the shot of Odo Proudfoot calling "Proudfeet!" as a deliberate homage to Bakshi's shot, "which I thought was great." He doesn't acknowledge a couple - only a couple - of other shots that are quite similar: one is the evocative shot of the Ring tumbling over the rocks in Gollum's cave just before Bilbo finds it. Another still is an entire sequence of shots which misdirect us into thinking the Ringwraiths killed the Hobbits in their beds. Both are a little TOO similar to be waved away as coincidental.13 The Ringwraith shot is a more special case: It was nominally based off of a John Howe illustration, ostensibly of the Bakshi scene. But Jackson - who's quoted review of the Bakshi film mentions this scene - could hardly not notice the similarity to the Bakshi scene, especially since the scene doesn't at all play like this in the novel. What's more, the scene was first storyboared only shortly after Jackson say Bakshi's film for the second time, and shot not too long after that being that it was the first scene filmed. So its only fair to cite Bakshi as an influence on that shot.14 https://preview.redd.it/9mbqqm4zul0d1.png?width=550&format=png&auto=webp&s=a45cdd06543d70200e3eacf150f14d03d222203b There are other bits and pieces: did Jackson have Bakshi in mind when he added a scene of Saruman rallying up the Uruk-hai before the siege of Helm's Deep? Its hard to say. An even more elusive case is made by Bakshi: "I'm glad Peter Jackson had a movie to look at—I never did. And certainly there's a lot to learn from watching any movie, both its mistakes and when it works." In other words, Bakshi here suggests his film influenced Jackson in terms of what NOT to do. To his credit, Jackson does remember that the design process for Treebeard was in part motivated by trying to divorce him from the Bakshi version, which both him and Dame Fran Walsh remember as being "like a walking carrot." But when we start getting into that level, it all becomes very tenuous. There were a lot of things about the fantasy genre in general - Conan the Barbarian and Willow are oft-cited by Jackson - that he tried to avoid.15 Ultimately, I have to judge that the similarities between the two versions amount to a handful of rather insignificant beats, all in the first hour of Fellowship of the Ring. To hyperbolically play up the similarities between the two projects is to give in to Bakshi's hyperbolic rhetoric. Tolkien illustrationsJackson's first and, at the time, only copy of The Lord of the Rings was a tie-in to the Bakshi film. This would mean he hadn't gotten into the world of Tolkien illustrations until developing his own films, when he suggests he went on a detail-exhaustive search for Tolkien art. He had seen Tolkien's own illustrations, but decided that they're "not very helpful in terms of the lighting and the mood."16The most acclaimed illustrators of the previous era of Tolkien were Pauline Bayens (whose Minas Tirith is reproduced in the Rankin/Bass Return of the King) and the Brothers Hildebrandt, whose bestial Balrog presents a precursor both to Bakshi's but also to the Minotaur-like Balrog of John Howe.17 Howe was one of a trifecta of Tolkien illustrators, along with Ted Nasmith and Alan Lee, to enjoy great vogue at the time when Jackson was developing his films. Of the three, Lee is often deemed the most celebrated and certainly made the biggest impact on Jackson, whose next copy of the book was to be an Alan Lee illustrated edition. But he also noticed Howe through is work on Tolkien calendars, and later also purchased some originals of Ted Nasmith. All three were approached to participate in concept design for the films, although Nasmith sadly had to decline.18 In many places, Jackson precisely copied designs of Lee's and Howe's existing paintings, and in some places carbon copied their lighting and composition for shots, as well as grading the films (before the advent of the latest remaster) somewhat along the lines established in their paintings. But the majority of Lee and Howe's work for Jackson was in producing NEW concept art to his specifications, and so its wrong to look at Jackson's films as being a part of the Lee-Howe ouevure, as such. The 1981 Radio SerialA less touted influence on Jackson's film is the superlative 1981 BBC radio serial. Where Jackson hadn't reread the book nor revisited Bakshi's film between 1979 and 1997, he had spent much of the that time listening on-and-off to a tape of the radio serial, usually while working in his garage on special effects.19The most obvious similarity is the casting of Sir Ian Holm, who had voiced Frodo in the radio serial, as Bilbo. Holm was apparently at the top of Jackson's casting wishlist, partially for this reason. A particularly striking moment occurs when Holm's Frodo quotes Bilbo's "Its a dangerous business Frodo, going out your door: you step on to the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to", a line again given to Holm - now as Bilbo - in voiceover at the same spot in Jackson's film.20 Again, many of the similar structural choices here are similar to Jackson, adding a prologue, contracting the early stages of Frodo's quest and intercutting the Aragorn and Frodo's stories throughout. Brian Sibley admits to have modelled his prologue on Bakshi's own, but Jackson is unlikely to have known it at the time, and when we start thinking in terms of second-hand influences we're again into very tenuous territory. Otherwise, the influence doesn't seem all too great, although Sibley remembers that Walsh, perhaps half-jokingly, told him "we stole your ending" in the way that they did the Grey Havens and then a quick segue to Sam's return home, basically along the lines of the book.21 A young, and already Tolkien-devotee, Sir Ian Holm recording Bilbo Sibley had recruited his cast from the BBC's company of actors, which is also the troupe Bakshi turned to, meaning that Sibley ended-up with Bakshi's Boromir (Michael Graham Cox) and, notably, his Gollum (Peter Woodthorpe). In spite of Woodthorpe's evocative performance of Gollum's voice in both the Bakshi and Sibley versions, its influence on Andrew Serkis' performance of Gollum is nonexistent, as Serkis had developed the voice before having heard Woodthorpe rendition, having only read The Hobbit prior to being cast.22 Other fantasy filmsJackson had seen pretty much all the fantasy films of the 1980s, and while they were important in terms of establishing the genre, they hadn't left much of an impression on Jackson. The most succesful - George Lucas' Star Wars - was more space-fantasy, undoubtedly impressed Jackson but didn't much influence his films: to this day, he professes to not be a huge Star Wars fan, in spite of the amiacable manner he and Lucas took with each other in later years, and admits that he sees the influence of Lucas more "in what he did for the industry, not in terms of the actual films that he made."23The first major high-fantasy film, Sir John Boorman's Excalibur, was a little closer to Jackson's heart, but isn't much of an influence on his films either. Its true that Jackson's films feature a lot of plate armour, but that's indebted primarily to John Howe's abiding love of late Medieval armour, and at any rate is quite different to the Enlightement-era suits of armour one finds in Boorman's film. Willow, produced by George Lucas, was a big shot to the arm of New Zealand's fledgling film industry, and like Star Wars is much indebted to The Hobbit, but left a bad impression on Jackson.24 The Clockmaker's Cottage in Sir Ridley Scott's Legend Two exceptions are to be cited; Ray Harryhousen's stop-motion fantasy films from the 1950s were huge favourites of Jackson's, although their more Graeco-Roman subject matters were a genre apart from Jackson's films. He is also a big fan of Sir Ridley Scott, and while he joins the consensus of deriding William Hjortsberg notorious screenplay, had taken some cues from his Legend (1986): there's something of the Clockmaker's cottage in Rhosgobel, and Jackson referenced some of the features of Tim Curry's devilish "Lord of Darkness" for the Wargs sinewy faces.25 Other filmsJackson took influence from paintings of old battles and landscapes, but surely his biggest influences are other films: Zulu and Saving Private Ryan had been referenced for Helm's Deep, and there's a touch of Terrence Malick's The Thin Red Line, which Jackson had watched before principal photography, to the atmospheric shots that close the Fellowship prologue. Jackson admitted to rewatching mostly Scorsese films while shooting, and certainly the energy of his moving cameras find a closer kin in Scorsese's films than in anyone else's. There's something of David Lean's Lawrence of Arabia to Jackson's intention to make living, breathing people out of his fantasy characters.26Surely the inspiration for the shot of Aragorn arriving at Helm's Deep But there's one film that looms largest in Jackson's films, overshadowing any influence we're looked at so far: Mel Gibson's latest spectacular, Braveheart. Along with other films of this kind like Dances with Wolves and Rob Roy (Gladiator came too late to much influence Jackson's films) it is of crucial importance to the overall cinematic style of Jackson's films, having come out just as Jackson first started thinking of making an original fantasy film, and winning the academy award for Best Picture before any sustained work was done to develop The Lord of the Rings.27 Footnotes
ConclusionsAny notion that Jackson's films are derivative of previous Tolkien adaptations - namely, Bakshi's - are very much hyperbolic, and stem more from adopting an inflated rhetoric taken by the likes of Bakshi. As an adaptation, Jackson's works are based soley on Tolkien's books, and merely tip their hat occasionally to previous adaptations - and not all previous adaptations, either. Cinematically, they draw rather from other sources: less from other adaptations of Tolkien or other fantasy film (Tolkien-esque or not) and more from historical epics, both from the 1960s but also and especially from the time in which Jackson first started developing his films. |
2024.05.15 15:30 turbobureaucrat Lunar surface cuff checklist
 | Post already yesterday on SoList.Blog submitted by turbobureaucrat to SoList [link] [comments] Watches or bracelets serve as companions for many people. In the simplest version, they simply decorate, and in more complex cases they show the time or provide other additional information and monitor health. What to hang on your wrist if your task is unusually complex? You need to hang something truly serious, for example, a checklist. Let's look at the photographs [1]. https://preview.redd.it/ez0t1cpndl0d1.jpg?width=3224&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=7cfa24d0136adccdc2626c663d5ebd905e4a1c63 This is a photo of Eugene Cernan, commander of the Apollo 17 mission. The last person to date to set foot on the surface of the Moon. He's standing far away, but pay attention to his left hand. What is that white thing there? Let's look at other photos. https://preview.redd.it/v1ey3e3pdl0d1.jpg?width=2340&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=1a87bc1d4864720ff790bb1ce1665ecae8eaebb7 This is a different person, Harrison Schmitt. He was on the same mission. Moreover, his tasks included training previous Apollo crews to carry out geological work. Schmitt's left hand is now particularly visible. It seems as if there is some kind of book in the wrist area. https://preview.redd.it/78kv0ljrdl0d1.jpg?width=2340&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=e53fc3e8dd9cf99ef2872ffb981e8652c24d129a Here is a color photo. Although it’s still not very visible, let’s look even closer. https://preview.redd.it/4j7dbgvsdl0d1.jpg?width=1000&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=dcea34dcfba07b060379a975844dd80cc4f9c3c7 Here is the “Lunar Surface Cuff Checklist”, which gives the title to the post. On the right page one can see the instructions for exchanging water between the Personal Life Support System (PLSS) and the Lunar Module (LM). The personal life support system is a large backpack on the astronauts’ backs. The Lunar Module is the home of astronauts on the Moon. Yes, even the smartest and strongest of us, the space explorers, require auxiliary instructions. Even if they are as small as in the photo above. No man has set foot on the Moon in over 50 years at the time of writing this post. The Apollo 17 flight was the last of this lunar program. The first spread of the checklist, or rather the collection of checklists, contains the inscription “The beginning not the end….” These words seem to express the then hopes for the continuation of the discovery of our satellite. https://preview.redd.it/u23m55zvdl0d1.jpg?width=1000&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=c8e4bcb9a655e4a40b7f4767a192af9b9c1173e3 In addition to dry instructions and abbreviations, funny illustrations accompany the cuff checklist. Already on the first spread, we see a dog-astronaut. You can find it even further. See the full version of this remarkable checklist in my favorite Internet Archive. What would your wrist checklist contain? List of links: [1] “Apollo 17” from Wikipedia Subscribe to https://www.solist.blog/ directly, the post was already there yesterday. You’ll then first receive beautiful emails with the new publications. |
2024.05.15 14:17 not_neccesarily An Eternity Ago, I Fell Through a Wall and into The Limbo
I'm walking through a bustling underground train station. I push and shove my way through all the other commuters onto the platform. As I look around, there seems to be endless rows of platforms in both directions, stretching well into a dense fog. Further ahead, neat lines of railway tracks extend out from the fog and through the platforms. I instinctually look up at the info screen
Next train in ### minutes
I furrow my brow, squint to try and focus on the numbers but they're heavily pixelated and illegible. I look around at the other commuters, who stream onto the platform completely unaware of the anomaly. Most people are on their phone, or wearing headphones while some are talking to each other. No one seems to notice the malfunction with the screen.
That's when the absurdity of the situation clicks for me. Endless platforms, a wall of fog, unreadable numbers and people that don't care. It's all a dream. I bring my hand up to my face and pinch my nose, trying to breathe through it. An old reality check I remembered from back when I was trying to learn to lucid dream.
My heart rate jumped when I realised, that I couldn't breathe through my nose. Before I could even process this, another problem presented itself. I didn't know why I was here. I didn't know where I was going and I definitely did not know how I even got here. It seems as if reality ceased to exist right before I walked onto this platform. Just like it typically feels in a dream, you spawn in out of nowhere and don't really know what happened prior - except this wasn't a dream.
I knew I was sure of it because deep inside my bones I felt this anxious urgent message. I need to catch this train. It was a primal feeling.
At this point, my head is spinning and I need to sit down somewhere. I choose a silver bench with a middle aged woman sitting on it. She shuffles further to the left as I sit down next to her clutching my head and racking my brain to try and figure out what it is happening. This is what amnesia feels like, I thought to my self as I gnawed at scraps of messy muddled memories. Each image that came into my mind was just a fragment - A school, a library, sickeningly white walls. It hit me that I didn't even know my name. I was starting to hyperventilate but then my body kicked into autopilot. I started to take deep breaths, focusing on my diaphragm and calming myself down. It felt like I was trained to do this. I started to focus on the current situation.
Where was my ticket? Instinctually, I knew I had to have gotten one on my entry to the train station. I reached into my pockets and pulled out a scrap of paper. Scrawled in very familiar cursive:
*In case of memory loss, read the journal in your backpack*
Strange message but I didn't have any choice then to at least give the instructions a try. I removed my backpack and rummaged through it for the journal. I wouldn't really call it a backpack - more a tattered and frayed bundle of cloth that was reminiscent of a backpack. I finally found a series of small thick journals, bundled in cloth with their leather covers on the verge of disintegration. The pages still seemed in good condition though. Each cover was sequentially labelled which I'm guessing corresponded to the chronological order of the writings within.
The lady next to me was weirdly getting agitated. She kept stealing glances, her body shaking and eyes burning with a fierce rage. I slowly got up from the bench and began to step backwards. My backpack bumped into a pillar. The dull thud it made seemed to cause a drastic change to everyone around me though. They all snapped their heads, locking eyes on me and staring through my very soul. I felt exposed.
The rumble of an arriving train stole away their attention and within a split second everyone was ignoring me again, going back to their usual activities. It seriously felt like I had just imagined it and it was becoming more and more clear that I was having some sort of mental breakdown. Nevertheless, as the train slowed to a stop on the platform, I walked into it and found a seat. The train seemed to be old and new at the same time. Typical blue seats with abstract dirty patterns complete with a modern sleek interior of gentle curves clashing with a boxy dull metallic exterior and doors that looked like they belonged on a rusty submarine.
I opened the first of the journals and began to read. I soon realised that the handwriting was mine and within the next few moments I was attacked by a barrage of memories that had remained repressed and buried in the back of my mind.
*
My name is Jacob and I have been stuck here in this place called *The Limbo* for an eternity. When I say 'eternity', I don't mean it lightly. Back when I used to keep track I counted over 500 years through my wristwatch that never seemed to run out of battery. Now I know counting is meaningless. There have been periods like this where my mind falls into a deep trance and I lose my whole identity as I mindlessly wander in this place much like the entities that inhabit it. Occasional periods of lucidity breach this trance and then I find myself lost and confused. It's why I keep the journals with me. I think its some sort of psychological survival mechanism that human brains develop when faced with the infinite vastness of The Limbo.
Speaking of The Limbo, I've come to learn a few things about its nature through my stay here. Some of its been through people that I've come across (Yes others are also stuck here) and some has been through my own experiences. Perhaps the most important is the question of where I get my food and water. The answer is weird. I have never felt hungry or thirsty. The sensation of having cool water slide down my throat remains a memory so distant that it feels like the snippet of a childhood dream.
I guess the next natural topic about this place would be time. Through various experiences of mine (that you'll get to read about) and discussions with others, the leading theory of mine is that The Limbo exists outside of time itself. While I myself have fallen here sometime during 2001, I've met many others from various years like the 80s, 90s and even one recent fellow from 2043.
Most people in The Limbo eventually fall into a trance, withering away until they become one of the entities or become mere tools for them. It's probably naive but I keep going through this place with only two hopes. The first is to somehow get out of here at the right time point and see my son, who I never got to see. The second is to come out of this place and die so that I no longer have to live out the empty agony of eternity (I'll explain how you can't age or die in The Limbo later). Perhaps my hopes will dwindle as the centuries pile and I will become just like those who I look upon in pity now.
I am writing this consolidated diary of my experiences for several reasons. I'd like someone to know of my unending journey in this place. To be aware of the capacity of the human spirit to keep going in the worst of situations. I have never had a long term friend in The Limbo, but know that I consider you the reader a dear friend even if I never get to meet you because you will know my story. I'm also sharing this in hopes that there is more awareness of The Limbo. Perhaps the military and scientists can actually figure out what it is. Perhaps all of us can be brought home. Or maybe this can serve as a survival guide to those who may be unfortunate enough to fall through.
There are small holes in The Limbo. Most of them are barely large enough for a pinkie finger to fit in let alone a person, but sometimes I've come across one large enough for this journal to go through. I'm not sure what time or place these holes lead to, so the safe passage of this book into a person capable of reading it has about the same chances as me ever leaving this place.
The train I'm on supposedly leads to the edge of The Limbo, where the holes are large enough for humans to fit through. It's really more of a legend amongst the poor souls that are trapped here and I've followed trails and clues for a long time to even find this train.
There are only two ways this goes. Both outcomes would lead to you reading this book in your hands. I'll either find my way out of this hell or give up hope and slip this journal through a Hole. You will find my fate at the end.
I should stop rambling now though. It would be best to start at the very beginning.
*
I was rushing out of work in pure ecstasy. My wife had gone into labor while I was at work and been rushed to hospital. I needed to get there fast. People were glancing over at me over their cubicles in confusion as I packed up my work bag and rushed out to the elevators. I couldn't stop thinking about seeing my first son as the elevator made its way down. The elevator doors finally opened and I rushed out.
The ground entrance of the building I worked at, particularly near the lobby, is an intersection of various hallways. I was already walking to close to the wall when someone came rushing around the corner and bumped me right into the wall. I was only able to hear half their apology when I fell *through* the wall like it was just a holographic projection. In hindsight, I find it oddly funny how easy it is for a life to get ruined. Just when you think you've got it all, when everything is going smoothly, a small incident like that is enough to take it all away.
I found myself in a room that resembled a classroom. It looked as if someone who had never stepped inside a classroom was asked to imagine the space. Desks were arranged in messy uneven rows with the chairs facing various directions. The board at the front of the room was a seamless patchy mixture of both chalk and modern whiteboard and mounted way too low on the wall, nearly hugging the floor. A large teachers desk sat in the front of the room. The walls were filled with posters of absolute gibberish along with diagrams and pictures that seemed like they showed something tangible but no matter how close you looked you could never identify anything in the picture.
The initial confusion was replaced by an immense panic. My heart was drumming against my chest as I searched the room for a doorway to exit it. My mind was trying to rationalise the situation. I was trying to convince myself that this was just some old part of the building and I had fallen into a hallway instead of the wall.
I ran through the doorway at the far end of the room and found myself in a large hallway that seemed to extend forever in both directions. The walls were a muted grey and the floors were that typical dirty linoleum. Soon I would find out that the regularly spaced doorways on either side of the hall led to other nonsensical classrooms.
I ran down the hallway screaming for help in pure panic, which was a terrible mistake in hindsight. I stopped running down the hallway when I suddenly heard the distinct scratch of chalk against board. In this large empty space, the sound echoed and boomed. Since I was still refusing to buy in to the reality of the situation, my hopes were momentarily increased by the supposed presence of another person here.
I slowly walked over to the doorway that the sounds were coming from. My stomach filled with an uneasy dread. This deep primal instinct within me urged me to hold back. I peeked carefully in the classroom and saw a woman with their back turned to me drawing something on the chalkboard.
It took me a few moments to notice that it was a very realistic portrait of my face.
She was drawing lines across my throat, her long dark hair swaying as she drew in the details. The drawing was completed with a terrible slash across the throat, blood gurgling out. I was frozen in place, transfixed on the hauntingly beautiful realism of the picture.
She began to turn around slowly while humming a high pitched tune. To this day I can't describe the face I saw. It is still etched into my mind. A face full of so much hatred, so much anger that I don't think its possible for a human to make that face. It expressed an emotion beyond human understanding. No artist in the world could ever render the expression on the paper. No words could describe the pure fear that coursed through my veins as she stared at me and began to approach.
I turned around to run, only to realise that a bunch of school children had gathered around me. They were headless, the bleeding stumps dripping thick blood onto the floor in a rhythmic patter. Somehow they were laughing.
I shoved through the group and ran down the hallway. I wasn't sure where I was going. My whole world had shattered and now I was completely aimless in some nonsense dimension with horrors beyond imagination that wanted me dead.
*
The extract above is from this journal I found at the foot of a large tree on a hiking trail. It's a miracle that I spotted its faded leather cover given that it was almost buried under rotting leaves. I really don't know what to make of what I'm reading, so I'll be slowly transcribing bits of it in separate posts over the next few days.
I know this subreddit is good for this sort of stuff. I'd love if someone else could share anything they know about The Limbo. This whole journal feels like some sort of prank, but the words and memories within feel way too real.
I can't help but feel a connection to this story. My mum doesn't speak much of my Dad, who I know left before I was born. No one ever found out where he went.
I was born in 2001
X
submitted by not_neccesarily to nosleep [link] [comments]
Next train in ### minutes
I furrow my brow, squint to try and focus on the numbers but they're heavily pixelated and illegible. I look around at the other commuters, who stream onto the platform completely unaware of the anomaly. Most people are on their phone, or wearing headphones while some are talking to each other. No one seems to notice the malfunction with the screen.
That's when the absurdity of the situation clicks for me. Endless platforms, a wall of fog, unreadable numbers and people that don't care. It's all a dream. I bring my hand up to my face and pinch my nose, trying to breathe through it. An old reality check I remembered from back when I was trying to learn to lucid dream.
My heart rate jumped when I realised, that I couldn't breathe through my nose. Before I could even process this, another problem presented itself. I didn't know why I was here. I didn't know where I was going and I definitely did not know how I even got here. It seems as if reality ceased to exist right before I walked onto this platform. Just like it typically feels in a dream, you spawn in out of nowhere and don't really know what happened prior - except this wasn't a dream.
I knew I was sure of it because deep inside my bones I felt this anxious urgent message. I need to catch this train. It was a primal feeling.
At this point, my head is spinning and I need to sit down somewhere. I choose a silver bench with a middle aged woman sitting on it. She shuffles further to the left as I sit down next to her clutching my head and racking my brain to try and figure out what it is happening. This is what amnesia feels like, I thought to my self as I gnawed at scraps of messy muddled memories. Each image that came into my mind was just a fragment - A school, a library, sickeningly white walls. It hit me that I didn't even know my name. I was starting to hyperventilate but then my body kicked into autopilot. I started to take deep breaths, focusing on my diaphragm and calming myself down. It felt like I was trained to do this. I started to focus on the current situation.
Where was my ticket? Instinctually, I knew I had to have gotten one on my entry to the train station. I reached into my pockets and pulled out a scrap of paper. Scrawled in very familiar cursive:
*In case of memory loss, read the journal in your backpack*
Strange message but I didn't have any choice then to at least give the instructions a try. I removed my backpack and rummaged through it for the journal. I wouldn't really call it a backpack - more a tattered and frayed bundle of cloth that was reminiscent of a backpack. I finally found a series of small thick journals, bundled in cloth with their leather covers on the verge of disintegration. The pages still seemed in good condition though. Each cover was sequentially labelled which I'm guessing corresponded to the chronological order of the writings within.
The lady next to me was weirdly getting agitated. She kept stealing glances, her body shaking and eyes burning with a fierce rage. I slowly got up from the bench and began to step backwards. My backpack bumped into a pillar. The dull thud it made seemed to cause a drastic change to everyone around me though. They all snapped their heads, locking eyes on me and staring through my very soul. I felt exposed.
The rumble of an arriving train stole away their attention and within a split second everyone was ignoring me again, going back to their usual activities. It seriously felt like I had just imagined it and it was becoming more and more clear that I was having some sort of mental breakdown. Nevertheless, as the train slowed to a stop on the platform, I walked into it and found a seat. The train seemed to be old and new at the same time. Typical blue seats with abstract dirty patterns complete with a modern sleek interior of gentle curves clashing with a boxy dull metallic exterior and doors that looked like they belonged on a rusty submarine.
I opened the first of the journals and began to read. I soon realised that the handwriting was mine and within the next few moments I was attacked by a barrage of memories that had remained repressed and buried in the back of my mind.
*
My name is Jacob and I have been stuck here in this place called *The Limbo* for an eternity. When I say 'eternity', I don't mean it lightly. Back when I used to keep track I counted over 500 years through my wristwatch that never seemed to run out of battery. Now I know counting is meaningless. There have been periods like this where my mind falls into a deep trance and I lose my whole identity as I mindlessly wander in this place much like the entities that inhabit it. Occasional periods of lucidity breach this trance and then I find myself lost and confused. It's why I keep the journals with me. I think its some sort of psychological survival mechanism that human brains develop when faced with the infinite vastness of The Limbo.
Speaking of The Limbo, I've come to learn a few things about its nature through my stay here. Some of its been through people that I've come across (Yes others are also stuck here) and some has been through my own experiences. Perhaps the most important is the question of where I get my food and water. The answer is weird. I have never felt hungry or thirsty. The sensation of having cool water slide down my throat remains a memory so distant that it feels like the snippet of a childhood dream.
I guess the next natural topic about this place would be time. Through various experiences of mine (that you'll get to read about) and discussions with others, the leading theory of mine is that The Limbo exists outside of time itself. While I myself have fallen here sometime during 2001, I've met many others from various years like the 80s, 90s and even one recent fellow from 2043.
Most people in The Limbo eventually fall into a trance, withering away until they become one of the entities or become mere tools for them. It's probably naive but I keep going through this place with only two hopes. The first is to somehow get out of here at the right time point and see my son, who I never got to see. The second is to come out of this place and die so that I no longer have to live out the empty agony of eternity (I'll explain how you can't age or die in The Limbo later). Perhaps my hopes will dwindle as the centuries pile and I will become just like those who I look upon in pity now.
I am writing this consolidated diary of my experiences for several reasons. I'd like someone to know of my unending journey in this place. To be aware of the capacity of the human spirit to keep going in the worst of situations. I have never had a long term friend in The Limbo, but know that I consider you the reader a dear friend even if I never get to meet you because you will know my story. I'm also sharing this in hopes that there is more awareness of The Limbo. Perhaps the military and scientists can actually figure out what it is. Perhaps all of us can be brought home. Or maybe this can serve as a survival guide to those who may be unfortunate enough to fall through.
There are small holes in The Limbo. Most of them are barely large enough for a pinkie finger to fit in let alone a person, but sometimes I've come across one large enough for this journal to go through. I'm not sure what time or place these holes lead to, so the safe passage of this book into a person capable of reading it has about the same chances as me ever leaving this place.
The train I'm on supposedly leads to the edge of The Limbo, where the holes are large enough for humans to fit through. It's really more of a legend amongst the poor souls that are trapped here and I've followed trails and clues for a long time to even find this train.
There are only two ways this goes. Both outcomes would lead to you reading this book in your hands. I'll either find my way out of this hell or give up hope and slip this journal through a Hole. You will find my fate at the end.
I should stop rambling now though. It would be best to start at the very beginning.
*
I was rushing out of work in pure ecstasy. My wife had gone into labor while I was at work and been rushed to hospital. I needed to get there fast. People were glancing over at me over their cubicles in confusion as I packed up my work bag and rushed out to the elevators. I couldn't stop thinking about seeing my first son as the elevator made its way down. The elevator doors finally opened and I rushed out.
The ground entrance of the building I worked at, particularly near the lobby, is an intersection of various hallways. I was already walking to close to the wall when someone came rushing around the corner and bumped me right into the wall. I was only able to hear half their apology when I fell *through* the wall like it was just a holographic projection. In hindsight, I find it oddly funny how easy it is for a life to get ruined. Just when you think you've got it all, when everything is going smoothly, a small incident like that is enough to take it all away.
I found myself in a room that resembled a classroom. It looked as if someone who had never stepped inside a classroom was asked to imagine the space. Desks were arranged in messy uneven rows with the chairs facing various directions. The board at the front of the room was a seamless patchy mixture of both chalk and modern whiteboard and mounted way too low on the wall, nearly hugging the floor. A large teachers desk sat in the front of the room. The walls were filled with posters of absolute gibberish along with diagrams and pictures that seemed like they showed something tangible but no matter how close you looked you could never identify anything in the picture.
The initial confusion was replaced by an immense panic. My heart was drumming against my chest as I searched the room for a doorway to exit it. My mind was trying to rationalise the situation. I was trying to convince myself that this was just some old part of the building and I had fallen into a hallway instead of the wall.
I ran through the doorway at the far end of the room and found myself in a large hallway that seemed to extend forever in both directions. The walls were a muted grey and the floors were that typical dirty linoleum. Soon I would find out that the regularly spaced doorways on either side of the hall led to other nonsensical classrooms.
I ran down the hallway screaming for help in pure panic, which was a terrible mistake in hindsight. I stopped running down the hallway when I suddenly heard the distinct scratch of chalk against board. In this large empty space, the sound echoed and boomed. Since I was still refusing to buy in to the reality of the situation, my hopes were momentarily increased by the supposed presence of another person here.
I slowly walked over to the doorway that the sounds were coming from. My stomach filled with an uneasy dread. This deep primal instinct within me urged me to hold back. I peeked carefully in the classroom and saw a woman with their back turned to me drawing something on the chalkboard.
It took me a few moments to notice that it was a very realistic portrait of my face.
She was drawing lines across my throat, her long dark hair swaying as she drew in the details. The drawing was completed with a terrible slash across the throat, blood gurgling out. I was frozen in place, transfixed on the hauntingly beautiful realism of the picture.
She began to turn around slowly while humming a high pitched tune. To this day I can't describe the face I saw. It is still etched into my mind. A face full of so much hatred, so much anger that I don't think its possible for a human to make that face. It expressed an emotion beyond human understanding. No artist in the world could ever render the expression on the paper. No words could describe the pure fear that coursed through my veins as she stared at me and began to approach.
I turned around to run, only to realise that a bunch of school children had gathered around me. They were headless, the bleeding stumps dripping thick blood onto the floor in a rhythmic patter. Somehow they were laughing.
I shoved through the group and ran down the hallway. I wasn't sure where I was going. My whole world had shattered and now I was completely aimless in some nonsense dimension with horrors beyond imagination that wanted me dead.
*
The extract above is from this journal I found at the foot of a large tree on a hiking trail. It's a miracle that I spotted its faded leather cover given that it was almost buried under rotting leaves. I really don't know what to make of what I'm reading, so I'll be slowly transcribing bits of it in separate posts over the next few days.
I know this subreddit is good for this sort of stuff. I'd love if someone else could share anything they know about The Limbo. This whole journal feels like some sort of prank, but the words and memories within feel way too real.
I can't help but feel a connection to this story. My mum doesn't speak much of my Dad, who I know left before I was born. No one ever found out where he went.
I was born in 2001
X
2024.05.15 08:26 Aeogeus Do Not Fight Monsters
“What do you mean it’s wrong?” said Tamara, becoming frustrated with Samuel.
“I'm trying to tell you that plants do not eat earth. They just absorb nutrients from it,” Samuel replied, equally annoyed as this was the fourth time he had explained it. “Look, just take my word for it, OK,” he added.
“Fine, but you will have to explain it again,” Tamara retorted.
Samuel and Tamara were partners in a scientific study of their forest home. It was genuinely idyllic in every sense of the word; the trees stretched high into the sky, and everyone was covered in succulent leaves, a deep and gorgeous shade of green. Around their trunks were rings of flowers gathered from every continent, and a thick carpet of grass lay on the ground.
The two sat underneath a chestnut tree, writing up their findings for the day. It had focused mainly on tree sizes and growth rates, and they had continued this study for, on and off, almost a year.
Samuel turned to look at his assistant and found that she was just as remarkable as the day they had first met: golden locks, like living sunlight, tied neatly in a bun. Her eyes were an emerald green, and all in all, she was gorgeous. However, it was when you came to her waist that things became truly incredible because rather than a pair of legs, there was a long and wide snake’s tail.
It was huge, at least seven metres long and as wide as her torso. The scales were the same beautiful colour as her hair and reflected the sunlight in such a way that she appeared to glow. She was wearing an ultramarine tunic with a black diamond in the centre. She was like this not because of a plague, a curse or some mutation; Tamara was a Lamia; it was how she was born.
Samuel, on the other hand, looked far less impressive. He was around five foot ten, with dull brown hair and equally dull eyes. His stomach stuck out from the rest of him. No amount of exercise was able to get rid of it.
He was by every description a ‘dull as dishwater’ human. His clothes, however, were slightly more interesting. He wore a navy blue tunic with a thick leather belt wrapped around his waist. On his feet was a pair of excellent leather boots, able to withstand whatever the world threw at them and on his forearms and shins, he wore something Tamara had never seen or even heard of before: a pair of vambraces and greaves, Samuel called it armour.
Three strips of rugged leather layered on top of one another made up each piece, and between each layer was a collection of tiny metal beads. When Tamara asked what they were for, Samuel said they were for protection.
All of this would have been inconceivable to Samuel two years ago, but he had become used to it in time. Samuel was not born into this world; he had arrived. How? He did not know, but he remembered it all vividly; his senses had been overloaded, and at first, he believed he had died.
“What’s wrong?” Tamara asked Samuel, who had been silent for over a minute.
Samuel snapped out of his daydream and said: “nothing, just thinking about that day again.”
Tamara nodded and said nothing else; she knew exactly what was wrong.
Samuel went straight back to writing. When Samuel first showed up, there had been no paper or pens, but what was even stranger than the lack of these apparent necessities was that Samuel had had to invent both of these items.
Tamara and those like her did not possess a written language; they relied entirely on their memories, and until Samuel had shown up, Tamara had not even conceived of the notion, but she had picked it up astonishingly quickly.
“It still sounds like eating to me,” said Tamara, bringing the conversation back to the original topic.
“Well, it isn’t; eating requires a mouth and stomach,” Samuel replied.
“Says who?” Tamara asked defiantly.
“Says me,” Samuel answered.
Samuel jotted down the last of his notes and left the pages to dry in the sun. Samuel then turned to his right and looked at a large book, the size of a chair’s seat, bound in yellow leather and knotted by animal tendons. He picked it up and began to leaf through the pages.
His eyes glanced over paragraphs about oak trees and orchid flowers until he finally reached the section he sought; the page was titled Silver Birch (Betula Pendula).
“Have you finished the drawing on Silver Birch yet?” Samuel asked without looking.
Tamara was currently focused on a drawing of sunflowers, but she understood his request and, without looking up or saying a word, handed him the picture he wanted.
Samuel took the drawing and took several moments admiring it. Like all her work, the picture was astounding; not only did it look like an actual Silver Birch, but it also seemed to be alive, as though it would start blowing in the breeze.
Samuel punched four holes along the sheet's left side, undid the tendon strings and then attached the drawing behind the title page. He added eight more pages to his book, four of text and four illustrations.
Their work was now done; there was no more writing or drawing today, and he placed their work into a knapsack Tamara had brought with her. Samuel turned to his partner and asked: “so what do you want to do now?”
Tamara looked up through the canopy and could make out the silhouettes of several birds and finally said: “I’d quite like to fly.”
Samuel smiled, chuckled and said, “Yes, so would I, but that would require every member of the village working together for decades.”
Tamara looked Samuel in the eye and said: “are you making fun of me?”
Samuel did not reply; he just looked Tamara dead in the eye. She observed every minute twitch on Samuel's face and concluded he was not.
“How could a person fly?” She asked, suddenly intrigued.
“I don’t know, I’m not an engineer,” Samuel answered, “So apart from flying, what else do you want to do?”
Tamara let out a sigh and said: “I guess we will just have to walk.”
These were the moments Samuel lived for, just a quiet afternoon with his best friend enjoying a stroll; he was utterly content.
“You seem chipper,” Tamara said, noticing the growing smile on Samuel’s face.
“That’s because I feel chipper” he replied
They passed through the trees, heading towards their favourite spot, a beach by the side of a lake so large you could not see the other side.
“So, how is everyone?” Samuel said, trying to spark a conversation.
“You mean every single one because that could take a while?” Tamara replied.
“Let’s start with your mother” he clarified.
Tamara’s mother, Pancha, was more or less just a larger version of her daughter, just as brash and headstrong.
“She’s fine; she has finally stopped asking me what happened every time I come to meet you,” she said.
“Really, and it only took her two and a half years,” said Samuel with a smirk.
Yes, that first year here, had been a real trial. Samuel had never felt so scared, isolated and persecuted in his life. When he thought about it, he could still feel the fear and the hopelessness.
A gust of air slammed into Samuel’s face, bringing him back to the present, and what a wonderful time it was. The water was crystal clear, the beach was covered in sparkling white sand, and the distinct aroma of water wafted through the air. Samuel breathed it all in as Tamara spread herself over the beach.
The cooling breeze that Samuel found so enjoyable, Tamara found far less agreeable. Tamara was ectothermic or cold-blooded. She could not maintain her body temperature; she needed to absorb it from her environment, and the wind was slowly draining her.
“Comfortable down there?” Samuel asked.
Tamara turned her head, looked up at him and said: “Actually, yes, not as good as my bed, but still fine.”
Samuel left Tamara to her thermoregulation and strolled down to the water’s edge, “stay where I can see you!” Tamara called.
“Yes, MOM,” Samuel answered sarcastically, though he knew it was more for Tamara’s sake than his; she had a problem with open spaces.
Samuel closed his eyes, stretched his arms above his head, feeling his muscles strain against the tension, and yawned. Small tears formed in his eyes and wiped them away. He had only been up for a few hours but was ready for bed.
“Too much thinking, that was the problem,” Samuel mumbled to himself.
The sunlight sparkled on the water’s surface. It seemed as though millions of diamonds were suddenly brought into existence, danced for a few moments, and then vanished as quickly as they came. It was beautiful, just like everything else here.
He climbed up a rock that jutted from that sand and sat down, his legs dangling over the edge. As he kicked his legs, a ray of sun caught his greaves, and although the leather was rather dull, it still dazzled him.
Samuel heard a sound reminiscent of sandpaper brushing against wood, and he knew at once what it was. He waited four more seconds and said, without moving an inch, “Don’t even think about it!”
“How did you know?” Tamara asked, feeling simultaneously impressed, confused and disappointed.
Samuel looked her in the eye and replied: “who do you think you’re dealing with?”
Tamara had not clambered up the rock like Samuel; she had simply raised herself on her tail so she stood over two metres high.
“Are you feeling better?” he asked.
Tamara smiled and answered, “yes, thanks for asking.”
Tamara moved behind Samuel and then began to coil around the boulder, and if he had not experienced it all before, it would have been unnerving. Tamara was only twelve and a half, yet she was already far stronger than him. Samuel was sure if Tamara really wanted to, she could crush a bison to death. After the graceful dance around the stone, she sat down beside Samuel.
The pair was silent for a few minutes, except for a quick coughing fit by Samuel; they took in the unnatural beauty of their surroundings.
“Hey, I have a question,” said Tamara, coming back to her senses.
“What is it?” Samuel replied.
“You still haven’t told me why we are studying the forest?” She asked.
In an instant, Samuel became deeply confused. To him, it seemed all too obvious why they were doing it.
“There is no practical reason for doing it. We do it so that we know,” Samuel answered.
Tamara became silent. Samuel realised that she was deep in thought and decided to give her all the time she needed until she finally said: “Is this one of those human things?”
Samuel, upon hearing this, gave a small chuckle and answered: “yes, if you like.”
Suddenly, something caught Samuel’s eye. It was a crab, no bigger than a golf ball. Its back was powder blue, and it held its arms upright, its claws pointing down. The tiny creature would walk forward, scoop some sand into its mouth, and then leave a small pellet behind.
“Look at that!” said Samuel, nudging Tamara’s shoulder and pointing at the tiny crustacean. Tamara turned her head and looked directly at where he was pointing; she strained her eyes at what she thought was a pebble; she was about to climb down and collect it when it suddenly moved, and she squealed.
Tamara dragged the bottom end of her tail up from the beach and timidly said, “What’s that?”
Samuel remembered that tone of voice all too well, and it brought with it some unpleasant memories, but he pushed them to the back of his mind and said: “it’s a crab.”
Samuel was certain he had seen this type of crab before but could not put a name to the image. Samuel was sure he had read about them, watched a documentary, or attended a lecture, but he could not remember. Ultimately, he decided to drop it for now and see if the answer would come to him.
Tamara kept staring at it as though she believed it would pounce if she took her eyes off it for one second.
“Is it dangerous?” she asked, her voice hushed to ensure the creature did not notice her.
Samuel sighed and answered: “it’s a crab, Tamara, unless you happen to be a nematode then…”
Samuel paused mid-sentence as his brain finally connected the dots and asked, “Wait, you have never seen a crab before?”
This perplexed Samuel for a moment until he remembered that Tamara did not have a television, a car, and she could not fly a plane, so it was not unexpected that she would not know what a crab was.
Tamara shook her head in response to his question, and Samuel added: “you know what a woodlouse is, right?”
Tamara nodded and said, “I like woodlice.”
“Well, a crab is just a type of woodlouse that lives near water,” Samuel concluded.
However, he could tell from her face that she was unconvinced, so he got off the rock, walked over to the tiny creature, wary of its pincers, and picked it up by its backside.
“What are you doing?” Tamara called in alarm.
Samuel held the animal, its legs flailing wildly in an attempt to escape, and said, “showing you there is nothing to be worried about.”
Taking care not to crush it, Samuel clambered back up the rock and presented the animal to her. Tamara stared at it for some as the crab bobbed its eye up and down and tried in vain to find a part of Samuel it could nip.
“It’s actually kind of… cute,” Tamara said after two minutes of silence.
She relaxed her tail and let it rest on the beach once more. “Can it hold it?” She asked Samuel, fear being replaced by interest.
“Of course, you can. Just make sure you hold it by its back and be careful of the pincers; if they get you, it will hurt.”
Samuel handed the crab over to her and watched as Tamara began to inspect the animal from every angle. The crab had a white underbelly and purple joints.
“You think you could draw it from memory?” Samuel asked.
“Hmm?” Tamara replied. Samuel let out a sigh and repeated. After three more attempts, Tamara finally took notice and said, “Yes.”
Five minutes later, Samuel said, “we should probably put him back now.”
Tamara moaned about it, but Samuel said: “he has his own life, Tamara; you can’t keep him!”
She conceded, grumbling under her breath, and gently placed the animal back on the sand. As the crab dashed away, the two noticed that while they had been fixated on that single crab, thousands more had emerged on the beach.
Upon seeing the swarm of animals make their way across the beach, Tamara let out a squeal and once again pulled her tail up off the beach. The army of crabs marched along the shore. The collective walking produced a sound loud enough to hear from fifty metres away, and at last, Samuel remembered what they were and said, with no small amount of satisfaction in his voice, “they’re soldier crabs.”
“What are they going to do?” Tamara asked, concerned by the sudden appearance of so many creatures.
Samuel kept staring at the gathering, but he heard her question and replied, “They’re just feeding,” and added quickly, “But we are far too big for them.”
“That's odd,” Samuel said under his breath.
“I know there are so many of them,” Tamara said, deeply unnerved by the sheer vastness of the swarm.
“No,” Samuel said, “There should be this many of them; it’s where they are that is strange.”
Tamara momentarily took her eyes off the army and asked, “So where should they be.” There was a slight flicker of fear in her voice at the prospect of being invaded; rats and mice where bad enough. They did not need another pest.
“By the sea, not a freshwater lake,” he answered.
“The Sea?” Tamara almost yelled. Samuel was a little surprised by this enthusiasm and turned to face her.
“Yes,” he said.
“Have you ever been to the sea,” she asked.
“Yes, many times,” Samuel said, uncertain where this was going.
“I bet it’s wonderful,” Tamara added with a smile.
Samuel was silent as his brain connected a few dots and asked: “how can you know about the sea if you don’t know about crabs?”
She smiled; Tamara enjoyed it when she knew something that he did not, “there is a story that my mom told me that before we came to this forest, we were a different people that lived by the sea.” Tamara paused for a breath.
“But then humans came and drove us from the water, and we fled inland. Our people split into two. One half went to the mountains, and the other settled in the forest.”
Tamara finished and waited for his reply. Samuel, however, just kept looking at her. Tamara was concerned that she had upset him; he did not like it when humans were labelled as the enemy, yet his face and posture were not those of one who was sad or angry.
“You people blame us for everything, don’t you?” Samuel said with a chuckle.
“If there is a fire, it’s a human’s fault. If there is an earthquake, it’s a human’s fault. If a little Boreray boy drinks all their apple juice in one gulp, it’s a human’s fault.”
“So, getting back on topic, where did these “Soldier crabs” come from anyway? We have visited this lake for over two years and never seen even a glimpse?” Tamara asked. Samuel looked back to the slowly advancing army, and several ideas flashed through his head.
“Maybe they have been dormant up until now; perhaps they make a large circle around the lake shore, and it’s simply luck that we were here on the day they passed by, or maybe the migrated here from somewhere else.”
They watched the crabs' ceaseless march until Tamara said, “These things are still giving me the creeps. Can we go now?” Samuel could not argue that there was something eerie about all of these animals appearing, seemingly, from nowhere; however, there was still one thing he had to be certain of.
“You think you could draw one from memory?” he asked.
Tamara’s face contorted in a scowl. Samuel, for all his good points, could become far too focused on his research, which often caused him to become ignorant of other people.
Yet she knew sitting here yelling at him would accomplish nothing, so she told him the truth: “Yes, can we go now!” Samuel nodded and then slid off the rock. Tamara copied him, and they both slinked back to the cover of the trees.
Now that she was beneath the canopy, Tamara let out an enormous sigh of relief as the anxiety slowly left, and the close air warmed her body. On the other hand, Samuel began to chafe at the stagnant air while his head began to bead with sweat, but it was nothing he had not experienced before, so he gritted his teeth and bared with it.
With their plans now ruined, Tamara and Samuel wandered aimlessly through the woods, chatting about what they could do to fill the rest of the day. Several ideas arose, including visiting a nearby waterfall and a set of monument stones, but none truly appealed to them.
In the end, Tamara said, “how about we just call it a day?”
Samuel was happy about this. Tamara was his only form of human contact, yet he could not deny the pointlessness of wandering around the woods, so he said, “Ok, but let’s take the long way.”
Samuel heard a sound above him and saw a red squirrel scampering through the trees.
“Is it difficult?” Tamara asked.
Samuel looked at Tamara and replied, “Well, it can give me a crick in my neck sometimes.”
Tamara let out a short laugh and clarified, “No, I mean, is it difficult being so inquisitive? It looks exhausting.”
He was not entirely sure what she meant by that. To Samuel, Tamara was every bit as curious as him, so he stated: “you tell me, you went out looking for me just because you wanted to know.”
“True,” answered Tamara, “and everyone has always said that I am always asking questions, but you’re like a boar that just ate sugar beat.”
“I have no idea what that means,” Samuel said, shaking his head. “But I do know that people always told me, when I was a boy, that humans are, by their nature, infinitely curious, but personally, I think that it’s just how I was born.” there was a pause, and he quickly added, “just like you.”
Tamara’s fingers started to numb as she brushed them against the bark of passing trees. She took a good look at the trees around her. Tamara had lived her entire life sheltered by these trees. This place was her home, her family’s home and her friend’s home, and she loved it, a perfect example of the innate beauty of nature.
Samuel, however, was of a different opinion this forest disturbed him, though this feeling had diminished with time. The trees all grew in perfect symmetry, four and a half strides form each other.
From Tamara’s perspective, there was nothing strange about this, yet Samuel often said that this should not be possible, that the wood should be a mess and that the trees should grow in an unorganised fashion. Yet to Tamara, the idea of messy forests was just as impossible as a structured one was to him.
Noon came and went, and Samuel’s stomach began to rumble. His breakfast was becoming a distant memory; he thought he might be able to bear it for another hour or so, but as they travelled closer to the village, Tamara started to become irritated by Samuel’s constant growling.
“We need to find you something to eat before that sound drives me nuts!” Tamara stated bluntly.
“That’s all well and good, my dear, so long as you can materialise food out of the aether,” answered Samuel, with just a hint of condescension in his voice.
Tamara did not know what the aether was, but it did not matter. “No, but I do know a nearby tree with some great fruit in it,” she replied.
Samuel found this strange for two reasons. Firstly, he found it very difficult to believe there was a source of food in this forest that either he had not found, or Tamara had not told him about yet.
Secondly that, Tamara would know much about something she could not eat. Tamara was strictly carnivorous; she ate nothing but meat.
He wanted answers fast and asked: “So why haven’t you told me about this before?”
“Because I can’t stand the smell, that’s why, and I didn’t want you stinking up the place,” she explained.
“If it smells disgusting, what makes you think I will eat it?” he asked.
“Because the Boreray can’t get enough of it, some of them say that they taste like all the best parts of every fruit and vegetable we grow, which is a shame because they smell like all the worst,” she added.
He asked no more questions. He was too busy thinking; this fruit sounded so familiar, but he could not remember. The need to survive day in day out had pushed most of his standard learning, from school and university to the back of his mind, not forgotten mind you just buried.
I'm back with Tamara and Samuel latest adventure. If you like what you've read so far and want to know where it's going you can find the complete story by following the links below.
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If you do decide to read ahead please leave a review or rating, every single one helps immensely, and helps me keep doing what I'm doing.
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“I'm trying to tell you that plants do not eat earth. They just absorb nutrients from it,” Samuel replied, equally annoyed as this was the fourth time he had explained it. “Look, just take my word for it, OK,” he added.
“Fine, but you will have to explain it again,” Tamara retorted.
Samuel and Tamara were partners in a scientific study of their forest home. It was genuinely idyllic in every sense of the word; the trees stretched high into the sky, and everyone was covered in succulent leaves, a deep and gorgeous shade of green. Around their trunks were rings of flowers gathered from every continent, and a thick carpet of grass lay on the ground.
The two sat underneath a chestnut tree, writing up their findings for the day. It had focused mainly on tree sizes and growth rates, and they had continued this study for, on and off, almost a year.
Samuel turned to look at his assistant and found that she was just as remarkable as the day they had first met: golden locks, like living sunlight, tied neatly in a bun. Her eyes were an emerald green, and all in all, she was gorgeous. However, it was when you came to her waist that things became truly incredible because rather than a pair of legs, there was a long and wide snake’s tail.
It was huge, at least seven metres long and as wide as her torso. The scales were the same beautiful colour as her hair and reflected the sunlight in such a way that she appeared to glow. She was wearing an ultramarine tunic with a black diamond in the centre. She was like this not because of a plague, a curse or some mutation; Tamara was a Lamia; it was how she was born.
Samuel, on the other hand, looked far less impressive. He was around five foot ten, with dull brown hair and equally dull eyes. His stomach stuck out from the rest of him. No amount of exercise was able to get rid of it.
He was by every description a ‘dull as dishwater’ human. His clothes, however, were slightly more interesting. He wore a navy blue tunic with a thick leather belt wrapped around his waist. On his feet was a pair of excellent leather boots, able to withstand whatever the world threw at them and on his forearms and shins, he wore something Tamara had never seen or even heard of before: a pair of vambraces and greaves, Samuel called it armour.
Three strips of rugged leather layered on top of one another made up each piece, and between each layer was a collection of tiny metal beads. When Tamara asked what they were for, Samuel said they were for protection.
All of this would have been inconceivable to Samuel two years ago, but he had become used to it in time. Samuel was not born into this world; he had arrived. How? He did not know, but he remembered it all vividly; his senses had been overloaded, and at first, he believed he had died.
“What’s wrong?” Tamara asked Samuel, who had been silent for over a minute.
Samuel snapped out of his daydream and said: “nothing, just thinking about that day again.”
Tamara nodded and said nothing else; she knew exactly what was wrong.
Samuel went straight back to writing. When Samuel first showed up, there had been no paper or pens, but what was even stranger than the lack of these apparent necessities was that Samuel had had to invent both of these items.
Tamara and those like her did not possess a written language; they relied entirely on their memories, and until Samuel had shown up, Tamara had not even conceived of the notion, but she had picked it up astonishingly quickly.
“It still sounds like eating to me,” said Tamara, bringing the conversation back to the original topic.
“Well, it isn’t; eating requires a mouth and stomach,” Samuel replied.
“Says who?” Tamara asked defiantly.
“Says me,” Samuel answered.
Samuel jotted down the last of his notes and left the pages to dry in the sun. Samuel then turned to his right and looked at a large book, the size of a chair’s seat, bound in yellow leather and knotted by animal tendons. He picked it up and began to leaf through the pages.
His eyes glanced over paragraphs about oak trees and orchid flowers until he finally reached the section he sought; the page was titled Silver Birch (Betula Pendula).
“Have you finished the drawing on Silver Birch yet?” Samuel asked without looking.
Tamara was currently focused on a drawing of sunflowers, but she understood his request and, without looking up or saying a word, handed him the picture he wanted.
Samuel took the drawing and took several moments admiring it. Like all her work, the picture was astounding; not only did it look like an actual Silver Birch, but it also seemed to be alive, as though it would start blowing in the breeze.
Samuel punched four holes along the sheet's left side, undid the tendon strings and then attached the drawing behind the title page. He added eight more pages to his book, four of text and four illustrations.
Their work was now done; there was no more writing or drawing today, and he placed their work into a knapsack Tamara had brought with her. Samuel turned to his partner and asked: “so what do you want to do now?”
Tamara looked up through the canopy and could make out the silhouettes of several birds and finally said: “I’d quite like to fly.”
Samuel smiled, chuckled and said, “Yes, so would I, but that would require every member of the village working together for decades.”
Tamara looked Samuel in the eye and said: “are you making fun of me?”
Samuel did not reply; he just looked Tamara dead in the eye. She observed every minute twitch on Samuel's face and concluded he was not.
“How could a person fly?” She asked, suddenly intrigued.
“I don’t know, I’m not an engineer,” Samuel answered, “So apart from flying, what else do you want to do?”
Tamara let out a sigh and said: “I guess we will just have to walk.”
These were the moments Samuel lived for, just a quiet afternoon with his best friend enjoying a stroll; he was utterly content.
“You seem chipper,” Tamara said, noticing the growing smile on Samuel’s face.
“That’s because I feel chipper” he replied
They passed through the trees, heading towards their favourite spot, a beach by the side of a lake so large you could not see the other side.
“So, how is everyone?” Samuel said, trying to spark a conversation.
“You mean every single one because that could take a while?” Tamara replied.
“Let’s start with your mother” he clarified.
Tamara’s mother, Pancha, was more or less just a larger version of her daughter, just as brash and headstrong.
“She’s fine; she has finally stopped asking me what happened every time I come to meet you,” she said.
“Really, and it only took her two and a half years,” said Samuel with a smirk.
Yes, that first year here, had been a real trial. Samuel had never felt so scared, isolated and persecuted in his life. When he thought about it, he could still feel the fear and the hopelessness.
A gust of air slammed into Samuel’s face, bringing him back to the present, and what a wonderful time it was. The water was crystal clear, the beach was covered in sparkling white sand, and the distinct aroma of water wafted through the air. Samuel breathed it all in as Tamara spread herself over the beach.
The cooling breeze that Samuel found so enjoyable, Tamara found far less agreeable. Tamara was ectothermic or cold-blooded. She could not maintain her body temperature; she needed to absorb it from her environment, and the wind was slowly draining her.
“Comfortable down there?” Samuel asked.
Tamara turned her head, looked up at him and said: “Actually, yes, not as good as my bed, but still fine.”
Samuel left Tamara to her thermoregulation and strolled down to the water’s edge, “stay where I can see you!” Tamara called.
“Yes, MOM,” Samuel answered sarcastically, though he knew it was more for Tamara’s sake than his; she had a problem with open spaces.
Samuel closed his eyes, stretched his arms above his head, feeling his muscles strain against the tension, and yawned. Small tears formed in his eyes and wiped them away. He had only been up for a few hours but was ready for bed.
“Too much thinking, that was the problem,” Samuel mumbled to himself.
The sunlight sparkled on the water’s surface. It seemed as though millions of diamonds were suddenly brought into existence, danced for a few moments, and then vanished as quickly as they came. It was beautiful, just like everything else here.
He climbed up a rock that jutted from that sand and sat down, his legs dangling over the edge. As he kicked his legs, a ray of sun caught his greaves, and although the leather was rather dull, it still dazzled him.
Samuel heard a sound reminiscent of sandpaper brushing against wood, and he knew at once what it was. He waited four more seconds and said, without moving an inch, “Don’t even think about it!”
“How did you know?” Tamara asked, feeling simultaneously impressed, confused and disappointed.
Samuel looked her in the eye and replied: “who do you think you’re dealing with?”
Tamara had not clambered up the rock like Samuel; she had simply raised herself on her tail so she stood over two metres high.
“Are you feeling better?” he asked.
Tamara smiled and answered, “yes, thanks for asking.”
Tamara moved behind Samuel and then began to coil around the boulder, and if he had not experienced it all before, it would have been unnerving. Tamara was only twelve and a half, yet she was already far stronger than him. Samuel was sure if Tamara really wanted to, she could crush a bison to death. After the graceful dance around the stone, she sat down beside Samuel.
The pair was silent for a few minutes, except for a quick coughing fit by Samuel; they took in the unnatural beauty of their surroundings.
“Hey, I have a question,” said Tamara, coming back to her senses.
“What is it?” Samuel replied.
“You still haven’t told me why we are studying the forest?” She asked.
In an instant, Samuel became deeply confused. To him, it seemed all too obvious why they were doing it.
“There is no practical reason for doing it. We do it so that we know,” Samuel answered.
Tamara became silent. Samuel realised that she was deep in thought and decided to give her all the time she needed until she finally said: “Is this one of those human things?”
Samuel, upon hearing this, gave a small chuckle and answered: “yes, if you like.”
Suddenly, something caught Samuel’s eye. It was a crab, no bigger than a golf ball. Its back was powder blue, and it held its arms upright, its claws pointing down. The tiny creature would walk forward, scoop some sand into its mouth, and then leave a small pellet behind.
“Look at that!” said Samuel, nudging Tamara’s shoulder and pointing at the tiny crustacean. Tamara turned her head and looked directly at where he was pointing; she strained her eyes at what she thought was a pebble; she was about to climb down and collect it when it suddenly moved, and she squealed.
Tamara dragged the bottom end of her tail up from the beach and timidly said, “What’s that?”
Samuel remembered that tone of voice all too well, and it brought with it some unpleasant memories, but he pushed them to the back of his mind and said: “it’s a crab.”
Samuel was certain he had seen this type of crab before but could not put a name to the image. Samuel was sure he had read about them, watched a documentary, or attended a lecture, but he could not remember. Ultimately, he decided to drop it for now and see if the answer would come to him.
Tamara kept staring at it as though she believed it would pounce if she took her eyes off it for one second.
“Is it dangerous?” she asked, her voice hushed to ensure the creature did not notice her.
Samuel sighed and answered: “it’s a crab, Tamara, unless you happen to be a nematode then…”
Samuel paused mid-sentence as his brain finally connected the dots and asked, “Wait, you have never seen a crab before?”
This perplexed Samuel for a moment until he remembered that Tamara did not have a television, a car, and she could not fly a plane, so it was not unexpected that she would not know what a crab was.
Tamara shook her head in response to his question, and Samuel added: “you know what a woodlouse is, right?”
Tamara nodded and said, “I like woodlice.”
“Well, a crab is just a type of woodlouse that lives near water,” Samuel concluded.
However, he could tell from her face that she was unconvinced, so he got off the rock, walked over to the tiny creature, wary of its pincers, and picked it up by its backside.
“What are you doing?” Tamara called in alarm.
Samuel held the animal, its legs flailing wildly in an attempt to escape, and said, “showing you there is nothing to be worried about.”
Taking care not to crush it, Samuel clambered back up the rock and presented the animal to her. Tamara stared at it for some as the crab bobbed its eye up and down and tried in vain to find a part of Samuel it could nip.
“It’s actually kind of… cute,” Tamara said after two minutes of silence.
She relaxed her tail and let it rest on the beach once more. “Can it hold it?” She asked Samuel, fear being replaced by interest.
“Of course, you can. Just make sure you hold it by its back and be careful of the pincers; if they get you, it will hurt.”
Samuel handed the crab over to her and watched as Tamara began to inspect the animal from every angle. The crab had a white underbelly and purple joints.
“You think you could draw it from memory?” Samuel asked.
“Hmm?” Tamara replied. Samuel let out a sigh and repeated. After three more attempts, Tamara finally took notice and said, “Yes.”
Five minutes later, Samuel said, “we should probably put him back now.”
Tamara moaned about it, but Samuel said: “he has his own life, Tamara; you can’t keep him!”
She conceded, grumbling under her breath, and gently placed the animal back on the sand. As the crab dashed away, the two noticed that while they had been fixated on that single crab, thousands more had emerged on the beach.
Upon seeing the swarm of animals make their way across the beach, Tamara let out a squeal and once again pulled her tail up off the beach. The army of crabs marched along the shore. The collective walking produced a sound loud enough to hear from fifty metres away, and at last, Samuel remembered what they were and said, with no small amount of satisfaction in his voice, “they’re soldier crabs.”
“What are they going to do?” Tamara asked, concerned by the sudden appearance of so many creatures.
Samuel kept staring at the gathering, but he heard her question and replied, “They’re just feeding,” and added quickly, “But we are far too big for them.”
“That's odd,” Samuel said under his breath.
“I know there are so many of them,” Tamara said, deeply unnerved by the sheer vastness of the swarm.
“No,” Samuel said, “There should be this many of them; it’s where they are that is strange.”
Tamara momentarily took her eyes off the army and asked, “So where should they be.” There was a slight flicker of fear in her voice at the prospect of being invaded; rats and mice where bad enough. They did not need another pest.
“By the sea, not a freshwater lake,” he answered.
“The Sea?” Tamara almost yelled. Samuel was a little surprised by this enthusiasm and turned to face her.
“Yes,” he said.
“Have you ever been to the sea,” she asked.
“Yes, many times,” Samuel said, uncertain where this was going.
“I bet it’s wonderful,” Tamara added with a smile.
Samuel was silent as his brain connected a few dots and asked: “how can you know about the sea if you don’t know about crabs?”
She smiled; Tamara enjoyed it when she knew something that he did not, “there is a story that my mom told me that before we came to this forest, we were a different people that lived by the sea.” Tamara paused for a breath.
“But then humans came and drove us from the water, and we fled inland. Our people split into two. One half went to the mountains, and the other settled in the forest.”
Tamara finished and waited for his reply. Samuel, however, just kept looking at her. Tamara was concerned that she had upset him; he did not like it when humans were labelled as the enemy, yet his face and posture were not those of one who was sad or angry.
“You people blame us for everything, don’t you?” Samuel said with a chuckle.
“If there is a fire, it’s a human’s fault. If there is an earthquake, it’s a human’s fault. If a little Boreray boy drinks all their apple juice in one gulp, it’s a human’s fault.”
“So, getting back on topic, where did these “Soldier crabs” come from anyway? We have visited this lake for over two years and never seen even a glimpse?” Tamara asked. Samuel looked back to the slowly advancing army, and several ideas flashed through his head.
“Maybe they have been dormant up until now; perhaps they make a large circle around the lake shore, and it’s simply luck that we were here on the day they passed by, or maybe the migrated here from somewhere else.”
They watched the crabs' ceaseless march until Tamara said, “These things are still giving me the creeps. Can we go now?” Samuel could not argue that there was something eerie about all of these animals appearing, seemingly, from nowhere; however, there was still one thing he had to be certain of.
“You think you could draw one from memory?” he asked.
Tamara’s face contorted in a scowl. Samuel, for all his good points, could become far too focused on his research, which often caused him to become ignorant of other people.
Yet she knew sitting here yelling at him would accomplish nothing, so she told him the truth: “Yes, can we go now!” Samuel nodded and then slid off the rock. Tamara copied him, and they both slinked back to the cover of the trees.
Now that she was beneath the canopy, Tamara let out an enormous sigh of relief as the anxiety slowly left, and the close air warmed her body. On the other hand, Samuel began to chafe at the stagnant air while his head began to bead with sweat, but it was nothing he had not experienced before, so he gritted his teeth and bared with it.
With their plans now ruined, Tamara and Samuel wandered aimlessly through the woods, chatting about what they could do to fill the rest of the day. Several ideas arose, including visiting a nearby waterfall and a set of monument stones, but none truly appealed to them.
In the end, Tamara said, “how about we just call it a day?”
Samuel was happy about this. Tamara was his only form of human contact, yet he could not deny the pointlessness of wandering around the woods, so he said, “Ok, but let’s take the long way.”
Samuel heard a sound above him and saw a red squirrel scampering through the trees.
“Is it difficult?” Tamara asked.
Samuel looked at Tamara and replied, “Well, it can give me a crick in my neck sometimes.”
Tamara let out a short laugh and clarified, “No, I mean, is it difficult being so inquisitive? It looks exhausting.”
He was not entirely sure what she meant by that. To Samuel, Tamara was every bit as curious as him, so he stated: “you tell me, you went out looking for me just because you wanted to know.”
“True,” answered Tamara, “and everyone has always said that I am always asking questions, but you’re like a boar that just ate sugar beat.”
“I have no idea what that means,” Samuel said, shaking his head. “But I do know that people always told me, when I was a boy, that humans are, by their nature, infinitely curious, but personally, I think that it’s just how I was born.” there was a pause, and he quickly added, “just like you.”
Tamara’s fingers started to numb as she brushed them against the bark of passing trees. She took a good look at the trees around her. Tamara had lived her entire life sheltered by these trees. This place was her home, her family’s home and her friend’s home, and she loved it, a perfect example of the innate beauty of nature.
Samuel, however, was of a different opinion this forest disturbed him, though this feeling had diminished with time. The trees all grew in perfect symmetry, four and a half strides form each other.
From Tamara’s perspective, there was nothing strange about this, yet Samuel often said that this should not be possible, that the wood should be a mess and that the trees should grow in an unorganised fashion. Yet to Tamara, the idea of messy forests was just as impossible as a structured one was to him.
Noon came and went, and Samuel’s stomach began to rumble. His breakfast was becoming a distant memory; he thought he might be able to bear it for another hour or so, but as they travelled closer to the village, Tamara started to become irritated by Samuel’s constant growling.
“We need to find you something to eat before that sound drives me nuts!” Tamara stated bluntly.
“That’s all well and good, my dear, so long as you can materialise food out of the aether,” answered Samuel, with just a hint of condescension in his voice.
Tamara did not know what the aether was, but it did not matter. “No, but I do know a nearby tree with some great fruit in it,” she replied.
Samuel found this strange for two reasons. Firstly, he found it very difficult to believe there was a source of food in this forest that either he had not found, or Tamara had not told him about yet.
Secondly that, Tamara would know much about something she could not eat. Tamara was strictly carnivorous; she ate nothing but meat.
He wanted answers fast and asked: “So why haven’t you told me about this before?”
“Because I can’t stand the smell, that’s why, and I didn’t want you stinking up the place,” she explained.
“If it smells disgusting, what makes you think I will eat it?” he asked.
“Because the Boreray can’t get enough of it, some of them say that they taste like all the best parts of every fruit and vegetable we grow, which is a shame because they smell like all the worst,” she added.
He asked no more questions. He was too busy thinking; this fruit sounded so familiar, but he could not remember. The need to survive day in day out had pushed most of his standard learning, from school and university to the back of his mind, not forgotten mind you just buried.
e-book(US/UK/CA/AU/DE)
Physical(US/UK/CA/DE)
If you do decide to read ahead please leave a review or rating, every single one helps immensely, and helps me keep doing what I'm doing.
Also the e-book will be at a reduced price until the last chapter it published on reddit.
2024.05.15 06:20 ExtensionMajor2916 Neotonics Reviews: The Truth About Skin & Gut Health
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2024.05.14 18:59 I_Hate_Anime88 Mericanii, Lothrians, and CS Lewis
“Love, duty,… The machines had been built by men who had little use for such things, being like machines themselves. So they built new men, men without chests, father says. Men made stupid by the machines to serve their designs.” -Howling Dark, Chapter 65Here Suzuha is telling Hadrian the history of the Mericanii. What’s interesting is that “men without chests” is a phrase and chapter title used by CS Lewis in The Abolition of Man. This book is Lewis’ critique of subjective/scientific morality, and a defence of traditional morality, which Lewis calls ‘the Tao’.
“We make men without chests and expect of them virtue and enterprise. We laugh at honour and are shocked to find traitors in our midst. We castrate and bid the geldings be fruitful.” -The Abolition of ManI think these next two quotes illustrate that Hadrian and the Sollan Empire—even with all their flaws—try to conform to traditional morality or ‘the Tao’.
“Tao. It is the reality beyond all predicates, the abyss that was before the Creator Himself. It is Nature, it is the Way, the Road. It is the Way in which the universe goes on, the Way in which things everlastingly emerge, stilly and tranquilly, into space and time. It is also the Way which every man should tread in imitation of that cosmic and supercosmic progression, conforming all activities to that great exemplar.” -The Abolition of ManThis contrasts with other societies like the Lothrians, Extras, Demarchists, and the Mericanii, who embrace a scientific morality or try to transcend morality. But even when rejecting traditional morality they cannot escape the Tao.
“The Empire is a river, it has currents and a course. And while our movement may be limited—we are always limited. By our bodies, as you correctly noted. By our minds, by nature itself. Freedom is accepting those limitations and responding to them with humility. We cannot change nature.” -Kingdoms of Death, Chapter 14
“What purport to be new systems or (as they now call them) ‘ideologies’, all consist of fragments from the Tao itself, arbitrarily wrenched from their context in the whole and then swollen to madness in their isolation, yet still owing to the Tao and to it alone such validity as they possess.” -The Abolition of ManEven if the Lothrians pride themselves for sweeping away traditional morality, their Lothriad still carry’s echos of the Tao:
“sweeping away the old is like knocking the foundations of a tower out from under your feet. Tradition grounds a man. Even for you Lothrians it is so.” -Kingdoms of Death, Chapter 14
“Let each toil for the good of all. Let there be bread, and board, and good order for all who toil.” -Kingdoms of Death, Chapter 10The Lothrians and ancient Mericanii were also ruled by a class of people CS Lewis would call “conditioners”. We see humans being treated like livestock. The Chairs of the Lothrian Commonwealth need not adhere to the strict linguistic rules which they enforce. Similarly, we learn in Disquiet Gods that “American Princes” still managed the Mericanii machines without subjecting themselves to a cancerous fate. Lewis’ worst case scenario—the abolition of man—is realized in the Sun Eater universe.
“the man-moulders of the new age will be armed with the powers of an omnicompetent state and an irresistible scientific technique: we shall get at last a race of conditioners who really can cut out all posterity in what shape they please.” -The Abolition of ManHadrian does not believe that humans need to be conditioned. He sees that while the Sollan Empire has flaws (like slavery and their Palatine eugenics system), the empire is not trying to change what humanity is.
“critics may ask ‘Why should you suppose they [conditioners] will be such bad men?’ But I am not supposing them to be bad men. They are, rather, not men (in the old sense) at all. They are, if you like, men who have sacrificed their own share in traditional humanity in order to devote themselves to the task of deciding what ‘Humanity’ shall henceforth mean. ‘Good’ and ‘bad’, applied to them, are words without content: for it is from them that the content of these words is henceforward to be derived.” -The Abolition of Man
“At least the Empire protects humanity… Humanity. And mankind. The Commonwealth’s ideals were as toxic to the human animal as the surgeries and augmentations the Extrasollarians enjoyed. Each saw humanity as a problem to solve.” -Kingdoms of Death, Chapter 14P.S. I think Sun Eater is so great on rereads for reasons like this. I made so many more connections like this on my reread. On a surface level it’s a fun story, but there are also profound themes. Btw thanks for reading if you made it this far, I know this is a bit long.
2024.05.14 14:01 Zappingsbrew A post talking about 400 words
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submitted by Zappingsbrew to u/Zappingsbrew [link] [comments]
2024.05.14 07:59 Ed-Board I miss the Colin Thompson website.
For the longest time, you could go to a "ColinThompson.com" website made by Colin Thompson himself, and browse through it quite unimpeded. Even though I remember everybody saying at the time that this website was badly designed.
The design was never a problem for me, personally. It was a matter of looking at the image on the front - which was apparently called "Nana's Album" - until I found the text drawn onto it that was also the right hyperlink. You can say that reading his books trains you to handle such a clustered and chaotic arrangement of HTML buttons.
After a while, the website started to break, and certain links stopped working. You could still kinda get around on browser history or URL manipulation fairly well. Colin Thompson would also go on long periods of time without updating the website or at any rate, updating the notice that tells you the date of the last update. Books would be published and you would have to go to your library to be able to tell.
Now the website's not up at all. I tried the Wayback Archive too, but then it just got scary as I tried browsing around and a clearly-malicious "info dialogue" appeared saying "owned." It even had the Wayback Machine's name as its title for some reason, too. At that point I just noped out of there.
At this point, I can't show you the Colin Thompson website, because I'm scared to retry the Wayback Machine and no amount of image searching has proven worthy of just literally giving the user a screenshot of a bi-decade spanning website that thousands of people have seen. For some reason it thinks I want his illustrations, even though I typed COLINTHOMPSON.COM WEBSITE.
You know, The Internet really sucks with stuff related to this. I've seen so little coverage and exposition on what Colin Thompson has been up to in his career, and I've read two memorable books of his that aren't even listed on his Wikipedia page. It says that he's alive and 81 years old, but genuinely I would not be that surprised if Wikipedia was failing to inform me that he's actually dead. I would be fucking devastated, but not surprised. If you want to know, those two books are "Watch This Space: In the Pink" and "The Corner of My Eye". Titles are approximate. I don't know when they came out. The second name is actually one of his esteemed trademark self-done "detailed" picture books, but I'd say it's not one of his good ones because you come out of it without much wonder and much of the art inside is highly recycled. Like, yes, recycled from previous illustrations in his other picture books.
I really want to know what Colin Thompson is doing these days and to get the website back. I'm not going to try to act like any of these responsibilities should fall on the shoulders of you, but I posted this because it's just something worth talking about. I'm pretty much the Colin Thompson fan. I'd say that if I still had Colin Thompson's email address, it'd be up to me to do something about it. I think at this point nobody does, because it was colin@colinthompson.com. Yes, colin "at" the original solo-project website that's freaking down right now. We have no options.
submitted by Ed-Board to PictureBooks [link] [comments]
The design was never a problem for me, personally. It was a matter of looking at the image on the front - which was apparently called "Nana's Album" - until I found the text drawn onto it that was also the right hyperlink. You can say that reading his books trains you to handle such a clustered and chaotic arrangement of HTML buttons.
After a while, the website started to break, and certain links stopped working. You could still kinda get around on browser history or URL manipulation fairly well. Colin Thompson would also go on long periods of time without updating the website or at any rate, updating the notice that tells you the date of the last update. Books would be published and you would have to go to your library to be able to tell.
Now the website's not up at all. I tried the Wayback Archive too, but then it just got scary as I tried browsing around and a clearly-malicious "info dialogue" appeared saying "owned." It even had the Wayback Machine's name as its title for some reason, too. At that point I just noped out of there.
At this point, I can't show you the Colin Thompson website, because I'm scared to retry the Wayback Machine and no amount of image searching has proven worthy of just literally giving the user a screenshot of a bi-decade spanning website that thousands of people have seen. For some reason it thinks I want his illustrations, even though I typed COLINTHOMPSON.COM WEBSITE.
You know, The Internet really sucks with stuff related to this. I've seen so little coverage and exposition on what Colin Thompson has been up to in his career, and I've read two memorable books of his that aren't even listed on his Wikipedia page. It says that he's alive and 81 years old, but genuinely I would not be that surprised if Wikipedia was failing to inform me that he's actually dead. I would be fucking devastated, but not surprised. If you want to know, those two books are "Watch This Space: In the Pink" and "The Corner of My Eye". Titles are approximate. I don't know when they came out. The second name is actually one of his esteemed trademark self-done "detailed" picture books, but I'd say it's not one of his good ones because you come out of it without much wonder and much of the art inside is highly recycled. Like, yes, recycled from previous illustrations in his other picture books.
I really want to know what Colin Thompson is doing these days and to get the website back. I'm not going to try to act like any of these responsibilities should fall on the shoulders of you, but I posted this because it's just something worth talking about. I'm pretty much the Colin Thompson fan. I'd say that if I still had Colin Thompson's email address, it'd be up to me to do something about it. I think at this point nobody does, because it was colin@colinthompson.com. Yes, colin "at" the original solo-project website that's freaking down right now. We have no options.
2024.05.14 03:47 CheckUrCrawlspaces Growing up, my mother forbade me from ever talking about my little brother outside the house. 50 years later, they're both dead, and I'm ready to talk
The garage door shut with a groan behind us, closing us in the gloom of the single bulb hanging over the car.
Mother took a drag off her cigarette and sighed as she exhaled, the smoke filled the cabin of the Ford and stung my eyes.
“You really disappointed me today, Julianne," she tapped her cigarette in the ashtray below the dash, "you embarrassed me in front of the other mothers at the Ice Cream Social, shoveling down seconds and thirds like a pig. I thought I raised you better than that.”
She took another drag, daintily holding the cigarette between her perfectly manicured fingers.
“I'm going to have to tell your brother about this," she continued, “he'll have to come up with a punishment fit for a pig."
I felt my stomach drop. My kid brother, Thomas, was only six, but could be exceptionally cruel. Mother seemed to encourage him and was deferring to him more and more frequently for how the house was run, especially concerning my upbringing.
"Mother, please, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you. I'm sorry I was a pig and ate so much ice cream. I promise I won't do it again, I'll never eat any ice cream again," I was pleading with stone, unyielding.
“Hush your mouth. Go to your room and wait for Thomas," she put out the cigarette and got out of the car, I had no choice but to follow.
It felt like walking to the gallows as I stepped inside the house and headed towards the stairs to go to my room. Thomas had grown fond recently of physical punishment, he obviously delighted in Mother whipping me with a belt or, recently, Mother had allowed him to start beating me with a wooden spoon. He would squeal and giggle like a normal child watching bubbles in the wind while I screamed. I was dreading whatever was going to happen tonight, I chastised myself for eating that ice cream, I should have known she would show up. My sins were always laid bare.
Down the hall, I could hear Thomas watching television in the den. I only got to watch TV for half an hour on Saturday morning and new episodes of Happy Days with Mother and Thomas. Thomas got to watch all the TV he wanted. He could listen to the radio and turntable as much as he wanted, as loud as he wanted. Thomas had an entire room just for his toys.
I entered my bedroom, it was a space I occupied, but it didn't feel like mine. Mother kept it spartan, white walls and white bedspread. A crucifix over the bed and a painting of Jesus over the door. I had my desk and chair and a dresser with some of the porcelain dolls Daddy gave me before he died that Mother let me keep. That was it.
I placed my book bag down and sat on my bed, waiting for Thomas. It was a while, sitting there with nothing but my own thoughts and staring at the open door. I felt humiliated, I was almost thirteen and my entire life was dictated by my brother. Mother kept the house in constant lockdown to keep Thomas a secret. No outsiders were allowed in. I couldn't have friends because she was afraid I would mention him or sneak a friend in to gawk at my brother and tease him for being different.
I would never make fun of him, I was terrified of him. Terrified of what he was and what he was becoming.
Eventually I heard his heavy footsteps coming up the stairs and I felt my heart start beating faster and my palms began to sweat. I kneaded my skirt in my hands, trying to calm myself and dry my palms. His slow arrhythmic footsteps came down the hall and I watched him as he entered the room.
I couldn't help but internally recoil at his appearance, even though I'd known him since he was born, I could never adjust to how unnatural he appeared. Thomas had been born at home and had never seen a doctor, but he was obviously unwell.
He was six years old and was barely over two feet tall, but very squat and wide. His skin was thick and gray, the whites of his beady eyes were yellow and his hair was wispy and white like an old man's, spreading out like a halo around his gargoyle face. A slight odor of decomposition hung about him, it reminded me faintly of garbage cans on a hot summer day. I hated when Mother made me help him with a bath, his skin felt like old brittle leather that flaked onto my clothes in gray flecks. His body was dense like concrete, I could barely lift him into the tub. Picking him up forced his hair into my face where that smell of rot would fill my nose, causing me to gag, silently, so as not to offend him and draw any ire from him or Mother.
Today, Thomas was wearing bib overalls with a red and green striped sweater underneath, reminding me of a grotesque doll.
“Mama says you acted like a piggy today at the ice cream social,” he spoke up to me in his unsettlingly high pitched, yet raspy voice, like a child that smoked as much as Mother, "you need to come down for dinner right now for your punishment for embarrassing Mama."
He turned and walked back down the stairs and I had no choice but to follow his toddling form downstairs to the dining table. We entered the kitchen and the table was placed with two settings. Mother was already seated and Thomas clambered up into his booster seat at his normal spot next to Mother. She took a drag off her cigarette and motioned vaguely to the floor without even looking at me.
Neatly situated on the linoleum was my dinner, not on a plate, but directly on the floor. A pork chop, scoop of mashed potatoes, and a small pile of peas. No utensils, either.
Thomas giggled with glee upon seeing my face.
“You have Mama's permission now to eat like a piggy, now. No hands! Piggies just use their face!” He stood up in his chair and reached out for Mother’s ash tray and flung it out over my meal, peppering my dinner with cigarette ash and butts.
"Oops! Piggies don't mind trash though, do they, Mama?” he giggled and the sound filled me with rage.
"No, they don't,” Mother replied coolly while maneuvering her ashtray back in place and carefully putting out her cigarette before saying prayer.
As angry as I was, I got down on my hands and knees and did my best at eating what I could without using my hands. I knew if I refused, it would be far worse. The whole meal, Thomas made pig noises and would reach down and poke me with his fork, making comments about what a fat piggy I was and how he wished he could roast and eat me. I doubted Mother would even object if he actually did kill me and eat me.
Gagging my way through another bite of ashy pork chop, I felt a warm splat over my head and heard Thomas giggling. I reached up and felt he had dumped mashed potatoes into my hair.
Choking down tears, I asked Mother if I could clean the floor and bathe. She rolled her eyes and excused me to clear the table for them as well while she changed Thomas into his pajamas. Picking him up, she walked out of the room and Thomas stuck his putrid little purple tongue out at me before they made it out the kitchen door.
I silently cried while I cleared the table and washed the dinner dishes. Tears splashed down as I mopped up the mess from my food on the floor. I hated how awful Thomas was. I hated how they treated me. Ever since Daddy died and Thomas showed up, I was their punching bag. I missed Daddy so much.
Mother was kinder then, too. She was still severe, but Dad kept her tempered. After he died, there was a change that came over her. I was only six, so I didn't remember her too much from before, but I did remember her gushing on and on when she was pregnant with Thomas. How the baby was a gift from Our Heavenly Father, that it was going to complete our broken family.
My sixth birthday happened right after Daddy died and I remember sitting on the patio crying while the house was full of people after the funeral, normally he would have gotten me a new doll and a chocolate bar, instead I was forgotten. No doll. No chocolate. Just funeral potatoes and a house full of cigarette smoke from the adults.
Nobody remembered. The closest thing I got was my dad's sister, Aunt Judy, sitting next to me on the patio step for a few minutes of comfortable silence before giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. I don't think she knew her brother was memorialized on my birthday. Next year, Thomas was born the day before my birthday, so it was completely eclipsed as Mother had just birthed her new love into the world…
I stopped mid mop as a lightbulb finally went off. I had never put much thought into the dates before.
Thomas was born a full year after Daddy died. He couldn't be his dad. Who was Thomas’ actual father?
Washing mashed potatoes out of my hair that evening, I ran over and over the timeline. No matter how I parsed it out, Thomas was only my half brother. Going to bed that night, I kept myself awake, going over and over again to make sure. I couldn't remember any men being around at that time, but that didn't mean much. Adults can easily hide things from children. Tension began throbbing through my head and I felt queasy. Mother had always known all of my secrets, able to sniff them out like a bloodhound out or using Thomas to spy. Now I had one of Mother's secrets and I didn't know what to do with it.
First I wanted to confirm it, but it would mean snooping, which was difficult in a house that was rarely left empty. I would have to try finding Mother's calendar book or journal to see if she mentioned any dates or men.
But when could I attempt such a daring maneuver? Thomas hardly left the house. As proud as Mother was of him, she was very cognizant and protective of his differences and didn't want to draw attention to herself or Thomas like that. Mother herself had few social engagements throughout the week and mostly stayed home to watch her golden child.
I finally decided I would take the risk and fake sick on Tuesday, grocery day, so I could stay home from school while she went shopping. All Thomas did all day was watch TV downstairs, so that should give me about an hour to look through her room for clues. I decided to tuck my head down, try to behave as best as I could to avoid their wrath, and wait for Tuesday.
That weekend limped along agonizingly slow. Thomas was in a fine mood and was constantly seeking out a reason to poke me, punch me, slap me… he'd laugh while calling me a piggy with his off-putting wide mouth. I tried to mostly stay in my room and it seemed like neither of them cared.
School on Monday was a relief, but my anxiety ramped up. The consequences would be dire if Mother caught on that I was faking sick to stay home. I didn't even want to imagine how off the leash she'd let my half-brother become in his punishment for that level of insubordination.
I stayed up all night, my stomach was in knots, but I was committed to my plan. Throughout the night, I screamed as hard as I could into my pillow. Screamed until my throat was raw and I could barely talk. It felt cathartic in a way. When it was close to school time, I put on my heaviest flannel pajamas and began doing jumping jacks until my face was flushed and my scalp was soaked with sweat.
Looking in the bathroom mirror before heading down to talk to Mother, I thought I looked pretty convincing, my skin was flushed and sweaty, my eyes had circles under them from lack of sleep, and my voice croaked like a frog.
Heading downstairs, Mother was already feeding Thomas breakfast. I hesitantly stepped into the kitchen and stood there awkwardly for a second, pawing with my pajamas to keep my nerves steady until she noticed my presence and looked up.
“Why aren't you dressed, Julianne?"
"I don't feel well. My throat hurts and my tummy hurts.” My voice graveled out more than I was expecting, I really had hurt my throat.
She strode over to me and placed a cool hand on my sweaty brow.
"You do feel warm. Take an aspirin from the medicine cabinet and go lay back down. I'll check on you later," with that she turned back and walked over to Thomas, who was frozen in place, glaring at me over a forkful of scrambled eggs. The sharp glint of malice in his beady eyes made me shiver before I shuffled out of the kitchen.
I laid in bed, trying my best to look miserable until I eventually heard the faint sound of the television playing in the den as Thomas settled in for his normal daytime routine and the garage door opened as Mother headed to the grocery store. I bounded out of bed and watched the car back out of our driveway and head up the street.
My heart began to pound as I tiptoed down the hall to Mother's bedroom, a place I rarely even caught a glimpse of, let alone entered. I very slowly opened the door, taking great care to not make any noise to alert Thomas downstairs that I was out of bed.
Creeping into the butter yellow room, I could feel my heartbeat pounding in my skull, this was the naughtiest thing I had ever done by far. I stepped onto the rug to help disguise my footsteps and slowly made my way past the brass bed and towards her desk. My hands shook as I opened the top drawer, I pawed through rapidly and found nothing. I checked the next drawer down and again found nothing of interest, just stationary and envelopes.
Finally, the bottom drawer was what I was looking for, a stack of journals from the past decade. I flipped through, trying to find entries relevant to when Daddy died and who Mother slept with afterwards.
I've never fully recovered from what I read.
July 6, 1968
Edgar died today. Car accident. I cannot believe this is real. My light, my life, my anchor... Dr. Benson gave me a sedative at the hospital and I feel so tired. So very, very tired. Why has my Lord forsaken me so?
July 9, 1968
I feel like I am in a very bad dream, I feel numb and disconnected. All the consolation and pity from everyone makes me feel sick. After the memorial, it took everything in me to not break dishes and to scream at everyone to get out of my house. Julianne was moping about crying and I wanted to throw her out, too.
If I hadn't seen my dear Edgar's body in the hospital and held his urn in my own hands, I wouldn't believe he was really gone. I still don't entirely believe it.
I have prayed to God every night asking him to show me why he took my husband from me and I have gotten no answer.
I skimmed over the next few months, as it was more or less similar sentiments repeated night after night. I finally got to an entry that caught my eye.
September 17, 1968
My battle with my faith has been fraught the past few months, but Hallelujah! I feel I can see the Lord again in all his glory and might, for he has given me a way to reconnect to my Edgar!
I was thinking about the night Julianne was born, right in this very home, it was a difficult birth and she struggled to breathe at first. Ingrid, my midwife, made a comment to me that if the baby had failed to wake up on her own, that Ingrid had ways to make sure she would have made it.
I remember asking if it was a medical methodology and she made it clear to me that in certain circumstances, it was a mystical property she used to bring the air of life into a struggling baby's lungs. She gently alluded to being a practicing member of the dark arts. At the time, I felt quite scandalized to have someone like that in my God fearing home. Now I see her as the answer to my prayers! My angel!
On a whim, I called her and asked if she still practiced such techniques. She hesitantly confirmed that she did. I asked, if she could turn breath into the lungs of a child without, could she turn breath into a child that did not exist? Could she magick into existence another child of my beloved Edgar? She told me she had to do some research and she'd be back in touch.
Ingrid just called back after a few hours and said there was a spell she found, but it was dangerous and might have unpleasant results. I said, yes, of course! I trust my Lord and I believe he sent this woman of blessed magick to me for this purpose.
She says we will have to do it soon, in a few days during the new moon. She has a potion to brew, but it is happening! Praise God!
September 23, 1968
The ceremony was last night, and Ingrid believes it was a success, but we will have to wait. It did not take long, only an hour or two. Ingrid lit my bedroom with many beeswax candles and she had me drink a thick and bitter tea that caused me to become quite relaxed and foggy.
From my inner thigh, she cut me and collected my blood in a chalice, with which she mixed quite a lot of Edgar's ashes and other ingredients which I could not glean from my supine position and groggy wits. Ingrid began to chant, calling upon a higher power, as I pleaded with my Lord to let this work. To give me any piece of my Edgar back. She came to the bed and worked the paste between my legs into my womanly chamber, which was very uncomfortable, but manageable with the numbing effects of the tea.
She continued to sit with me and chant, her hand placed over my womb, until she decided at which time it was complete. She left and I fell into a deep sleep. When I woke up this morning, I felt quite uncomfortable, my body ached and when I used the restroom, a yellow fluid like pus poured out of me, but no sign of any ashes or blood, which gives me hope it was absorbed into my womb.
November 3, 1968
Praise be to our Lord, Ingrid just confirmed for me that I am with child, I had been hoping so, I had not gotten my cycle in October, but I wasn't sure if that was because of the discharge like pus that was still coming. She told me that was common with this spell and a side effect that would stop after the baby came.
I feel like I am floating on air, for the first time since Edgar left, I feel-
I suddenly became very aware of the feeling of eyes on the back of my head. I had become too engrossed in what was written before me and I had lost track of my surroundings. Very slowly, I turned around and my heart began pounding again as I saw Thomas standing in the doorway holding his wooden spoon in one hand. How had I not heard him?
He pointed at me with his empty hand and screamed, just a pure guttural screech from somewhere deep inside his disgusting little body. He charged at me from across the room, his horrible feet thumping solidly along the rug. He began beating my legs ruthlessly with the spoon, causing my legs to buckle. I crashed down to my knees in front of him, and he began lashing at my face, pulling my hair with one hand while wailing away at my head with the spoon.
I had dropped the journal I was holding and was desperately trying to get a hand on the spoon or push him away. All I could hear was him screaming. My arms flailed and I reached around on Mother's desk and grabbed onto the first thing I found and sank it into Thomas’ neck.
The end of Mother's gold letter opener protruded under his jaw. He went silent and he looked at me with utter shock. He dropped the spoon and collapsed on the ground, clutching at his neck as his thick black blood oozed out from his wound, letting out a stupendous odor of rot that filled the room. He didn't really say anything or make any noise. He just twitched for a moment and I saw his eyes glaze over.
In shock, I stood over his little body for a moment and I watched as he seemed to mummify in just a few minutes, like an ash person from Pompeii dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt. Even his blood that looked like shiny oil a second ago became like potting soil on Mother's rug. Reaching out to touch his hand, it crumbled away like sand.
Panic ran through me like a rabbit caught in a snare. Not knowing what to do, I ran. I ran down the hall, changed my clothes, put an extra change of clothes in my backpack and the last doll Daddy had ever given me and I ran. Mother would absolutely never forgive me and I was genuinely afraid she would kill me in retaliation for taking her beloved Thomas away from her. Her precious gift from God. My feet flew over the pavement and took me away from that house.
I called my Aunt Judy from a payphone outside the five & dime, and told her Mother had kicked me out and asked if I could stay with her. She had always had a strained relationship with my mother and it didn't take much convincing that she had kicked out her “only” child. Only Mother, Ingrid, and I ever knew about Thomas.
She gave me a home and took care of me. She never beat me or humiliated me. Even with her love, I was far from okay. For years I would close my eyes and hear Thomas scream, then the sudden silence. I'd see him fumbling at his neck and turning to ash. But I would also remember all the ways he would hurt me and how bad he was becoming. I could never talk to anyone about it, especially not the silent relief I felt I refused to admit to myself. Over time, however, Thomas' screams became a whisper and his silence faded into dust in my mind.
I moved on with my life. I went to college and became a photojournalist, getting to travel the world and watch history unfold. By choice, I never married, but was quite blessed with many beautiful friendships for companionship over the decades. I found balance in my life and a sense of happiness, if not peace. I never could quite stomach mashed potatoes again, though, they always taste ashy to me.
Mother never made any attempts to reach out to me or find me, at least that I'm aware of. Ten years ago, I was contacted by a hospital and they said my mother had been admitted earlier after falling and was about to pass, so she must have kept some tabs on me to know my phone number for her emergency contacts. Apparently she had collapsed in the driveway and a neighbor called an ambulance. I got there and her only words to me were, “take care of him," as she placed a locket in my hand. I opened the locket, Jesus was on one side, Thomas on the other. I didn't say anything to her, just held her frail old hand with nicotine stained nails until she passed in the night. My mother was gone and I felt nothing except a vague sense of relief.
When I got to her house, it was like a time capsule. Other than a newer television, it was just like it was when I'd fled so many years ago. The smell of tobacco smoke hung like incense in the air. It felt oppressive, like a tomb.
I wandered the house in a bit of a daze. The one place I didn't want to go was upstairs. I didn't want to see my old room, or Thomas' room, or Mother's. Putting it off, I went to fix myself some supper, realizing I hadn't eaten in almost a day. I took a pause when I opened the fridge and saw a baby bottle on a shelf. Silently praying she had been babysitting for a neighbor, I fixed myself some toast with sardines and sat eating in the den watching TV. It had been almost forty years and it still felt rebellious not eating at the table and watching TV without permission.
My eyes grew heavy and I finally mustered up the gumption to head upstairs to go to bed. The stairs creaked in a familiar way under my feet and I was taken back to the feeling of dread hearing either Mother or Thomas climbing up. My old room was at the top of the stairs, I saw the door was nailed shut and had rambling quotes about Judas copied from the Bible in my mother's handwriting taped to the door. I sighed gently and turned from the door to head down the hallway, deciding Mother's room was probably the best place to sleep.
I passed by Thomas’ toy room and I heard a murmur from the room. I stopped, curiosity got the best of me and I entered. In Thomas' old toy room was a crib with joyful clown sheets. Dread swelled up inside me as I heard more murmurs and saw the sheets move. Approaching slowly, I peaked under the sheet and gasped.
Tucked inside was what looked like a baby gargoyle, gray and papery looking. Pus leaked out of its milky, bulbous eyes. I pulled back the blanket and saw it had no legs and its arms bent back, like wings on a bird. It was wearing just a cloth diaper, overflowing with tarry looking stool that took my breath away with its pungency, it smelled like Thomas’ blood, but somehow worse. My heart broke for this poor creature, Lord only knows how many years it has been in this crib suffering from its unholy existence.
So this is who Mother had wanted me to take care of…
Not knowing what else to do, I gently scooped him up. Like Thomas, he was shockingly heavy for how small his body was. Placing him on the changing table, I cleaned him and rewrapped his bottom in a clean diaper cloth. It was difficult, he fussed tremendously, crying and flopping around as much as his flipper-like arms would allow. I tried wiping off his oozing eyes and he snapped his mouth, which I saw was full of disturbingly square yellow teeth, trying to bite me. I carried him to the kitchen and rocked him while I heated up his bottle and he became furious with me, almost barking like a dog when my hand would get near his face.
He settled a bit as he fed, but he would still sometimes suddenly spit out the bottle and attempt to bite me. I laid him back in his crib, this abomination in a clown sheet, and I walked down the hall to Mother's room letting out a long sigh.
Combing through my mother's journals in the early hours of the morning, it looked like she tried the ceremony again shortly after Thomas died, but she either lacked Ingrid’s help or didn't have enough of my father's ashes left. Something went terribly wrong. She was vaguer than she had been about Thomas’ conception, but I suspect she had used some of Thomas' remains. The resulting birth she named Isaac.
Mother's journals told a sad tale of her and Isaac's suffering. She never mentioned me, but lamented the loss of Thomas and Dad relentlessly. She was hyper protective of Isaac, as that was all she had left. If her world had been small before, it became microscopic after he entered her life, requiring nearly constant care. According to Mother, he was blind and colicky, sometimes going years at a time without sleeping through the night. She had breast fed him for years, but she had to stop after he grew teeth and began biting her intentionally and feeding on her blood.
I spent a lot of time over the next few days pondering what to do. I had to get her estate in order, she had left me the house, in an obvious attempt to get me to continue caretaking for Isaac, but I didn't want it. I had my own cozy home an hour away from here, filled with happy memories and my possessions acquired traveling the world. Mother's home had a heavy energy I couldn't shake. Her and Thomas were both gone, but the memories of the scoldings and beatings hung in every corner, like cobwebs that would never sweep away.
So, I fed Isaac and kept him clean and tried to keep him company, although he seemed to hate me passionately. I took care of him, all the while thinking about what I was going to do. After a week, I felt resolute in what had to be done.
Gathering up all of Mother's journals in a tote, I made my way to Isaac and picked him up and carried everything to the living room.
The ancient logs in the fireplace meant for display ignited instantly. One by one, I fed the journals into the fire, burning away years of my mother's consuming sorrow. Isaac fussed and moaned next to me the entire time. When the last pages shimmered away into lacy ash, I took a throw pillow off the couch and gently cradled Isaac in my other arm. It didn't take long before he stopped struggling and I felt his little body relax after decades of suffering.
I gently wrapped up a bundle in a clown sheet and placed it in the fire. It burned furiously, like the paper in my mother's journals, and was soon gone. Nothing but ashes and embers.
“Don't worry, Mother,” I said purely for my own sake, "I took care of Isaac for you."
And finally, I felt at peace.
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Mother took a drag off her cigarette and sighed as she exhaled, the smoke filled the cabin of the Ford and stung my eyes.
“You really disappointed me today, Julianne," she tapped her cigarette in the ashtray below the dash, "you embarrassed me in front of the other mothers at the Ice Cream Social, shoveling down seconds and thirds like a pig. I thought I raised you better than that.”
She took another drag, daintily holding the cigarette between her perfectly manicured fingers.
“I'm going to have to tell your brother about this," she continued, “he'll have to come up with a punishment fit for a pig."
I felt my stomach drop. My kid brother, Thomas, was only six, but could be exceptionally cruel. Mother seemed to encourage him and was deferring to him more and more frequently for how the house was run, especially concerning my upbringing.
"Mother, please, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you. I'm sorry I was a pig and ate so much ice cream. I promise I won't do it again, I'll never eat any ice cream again," I was pleading with stone, unyielding.
“Hush your mouth. Go to your room and wait for Thomas," she put out the cigarette and got out of the car, I had no choice but to follow.
It felt like walking to the gallows as I stepped inside the house and headed towards the stairs to go to my room. Thomas had grown fond recently of physical punishment, he obviously delighted in Mother whipping me with a belt or, recently, Mother had allowed him to start beating me with a wooden spoon. He would squeal and giggle like a normal child watching bubbles in the wind while I screamed. I was dreading whatever was going to happen tonight, I chastised myself for eating that ice cream, I should have known she would show up. My sins were always laid bare.
Down the hall, I could hear Thomas watching television in the den. I only got to watch TV for half an hour on Saturday morning and new episodes of Happy Days with Mother and Thomas. Thomas got to watch all the TV he wanted. He could listen to the radio and turntable as much as he wanted, as loud as he wanted. Thomas had an entire room just for his toys.
I entered my bedroom, it was a space I occupied, but it didn't feel like mine. Mother kept it spartan, white walls and white bedspread. A crucifix over the bed and a painting of Jesus over the door. I had my desk and chair and a dresser with some of the porcelain dolls Daddy gave me before he died that Mother let me keep. That was it.
I placed my book bag down and sat on my bed, waiting for Thomas. It was a while, sitting there with nothing but my own thoughts and staring at the open door. I felt humiliated, I was almost thirteen and my entire life was dictated by my brother. Mother kept the house in constant lockdown to keep Thomas a secret. No outsiders were allowed in. I couldn't have friends because she was afraid I would mention him or sneak a friend in to gawk at my brother and tease him for being different.
I would never make fun of him, I was terrified of him. Terrified of what he was and what he was becoming.
Eventually I heard his heavy footsteps coming up the stairs and I felt my heart start beating faster and my palms began to sweat. I kneaded my skirt in my hands, trying to calm myself and dry my palms. His slow arrhythmic footsteps came down the hall and I watched him as he entered the room.
I couldn't help but internally recoil at his appearance, even though I'd known him since he was born, I could never adjust to how unnatural he appeared. Thomas had been born at home and had never seen a doctor, but he was obviously unwell.
He was six years old and was barely over two feet tall, but very squat and wide. His skin was thick and gray, the whites of his beady eyes were yellow and his hair was wispy and white like an old man's, spreading out like a halo around his gargoyle face. A slight odor of decomposition hung about him, it reminded me faintly of garbage cans on a hot summer day. I hated when Mother made me help him with a bath, his skin felt like old brittle leather that flaked onto my clothes in gray flecks. His body was dense like concrete, I could barely lift him into the tub. Picking him up forced his hair into my face where that smell of rot would fill my nose, causing me to gag, silently, so as not to offend him and draw any ire from him or Mother.
Today, Thomas was wearing bib overalls with a red and green striped sweater underneath, reminding me of a grotesque doll.
“Mama says you acted like a piggy today at the ice cream social,” he spoke up to me in his unsettlingly high pitched, yet raspy voice, like a child that smoked as much as Mother, "you need to come down for dinner right now for your punishment for embarrassing Mama."
He turned and walked back down the stairs and I had no choice but to follow his toddling form downstairs to the dining table. We entered the kitchen and the table was placed with two settings. Mother was already seated and Thomas clambered up into his booster seat at his normal spot next to Mother. She took a drag off her cigarette and motioned vaguely to the floor without even looking at me.
Neatly situated on the linoleum was my dinner, not on a plate, but directly on the floor. A pork chop, scoop of mashed potatoes, and a small pile of peas. No utensils, either.
Thomas giggled with glee upon seeing my face.
“You have Mama's permission now to eat like a piggy, now. No hands! Piggies just use their face!” He stood up in his chair and reached out for Mother’s ash tray and flung it out over my meal, peppering my dinner with cigarette ash and butts.
"Oops! Piggies don't mind trash though, do they, Mama?” he giggled and the sound filled me with rage.
"No, they don't,” Mother replied coolly while maneuvering her ashtray back in place and carefully putting out her cigarette before saying prayer.
As angry as I was, I got down on my hands and knees and did my best at eating what I could without using my hands. I knew if I refused, it would be far worse. The whole meal, Thomas made pig noises and would reach down and poke me with his fork, making comments about what a fat piggy I was and how he wished he could roast and eat me. I doubted Mother would even object if he actually did kill me and eat me.
Gagging my way through another bite of ashy pork chop, I felt a warm splat over my head and heard Thomas giggling. I reached up and felt he had dumped mashed potatoes into my hair.
Choking down tears, I asked Mother if I could clean the floor and bathe. She rolled her eyes and excused me to clear the table for them as well while she changed Thomas into his pajamas. Picking him up, she walked out of the room and Thomas stuck his putrid little purple tongue out at me before they made it out the kitchen door.
I silently cried while I cleared the table and washed the dinner dishes. Tears splashed down as I mopped up the mess from my food on the floor. I hated how awful Thomas was. I hated how they treated me. Ever since Daddy died and Thomas showed up, I was their punching bag. I missed Daddy so much.
Mother was kinder then, too. She was still severe, but Dad kept her tempered. After he died, there was a change that came over her. I was only six, so I didn't remember her too much from before, but I did remember her gushing on and on when she was pregnant with Thomas. How the baby was a gift from Our Heavenly Father, that it was going to complete our broken family.
My sixth birthday happened right after Daddy died and I remember sitting on the patio crying while the house was full of people after the funeral, normally he would have gotten me a new doll and a chocolate bar, instead I was forgotten. No doll. No chocolate. Just funeral potatoes and a house full of cigarette smoke from the adults.
Nobody remembered. The closest thing I got was my dad's sister, Aunt Judy, sitting next to me on the patio step for a few minutes of comfortable silence before giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. I don't think she knew her brother was memorialized on my birthday. Next year, Thomas was born the day before my birthday, so it was completely eclipsed as Mother had just birthed her new love into the world…
I stopped mid mop as a lightbulb finally went off. I had never put much thought into the dates before.
Thomas was born a full year after Daddy died. He couldn't be his dad. Who was Thomas’ actual father?
Washing mashed potatoes out of my hair that evening, I ran over and over the timeline. No matter how I parsed it out, Thomas was only my half brother. Going to bed that night, I kept myself awake, going over and over again to make sure. I couldn't remember any men being around at that time, but that didn't mean much. Adults can easily hide things from children. Tension began throbbing through my head and I felt queasy. Mother had always known all of my secrets, able to sniff them out like a bloodhound out or using Thomas to spy. Now I had one of Mother's secrets and I didn't know what to do with it.
First I wanted to confirm it, but it would mean snooping, which was difficult in a house that was rarely left empty. I would have to try finding Mother's calendar book or journal to see if she mentioned any dates or men.
But when could I attempt such a daring maneuver? Thomas hardly left the house. As proud as Mother was of him, she was very cognizant and protective of his differences and didn't want to draw attention to herself or Thomas like that. Mother herself had few social engagements throughout the week and mostly stayed home to watch her golden child.
I finally decided I would take the risk and fake sick on Tuesday, grocery day, so I could stay home from school while she went shopping. All Thomas did all day was watch TV downstairs, so that should give me about an hour to look through her room for clues. I decided to tuck my head down, try to behave as best as I could to avoid their wrath, and wait for Tuesday.
That weekend limped along agonizingly slow. Thomas was in a fine mood and was constantly seeking out a reason to poke me, punch me, slap me… he'd laugh while calling me a piggy with his off-putting wide mouth. I tried to mostly stay in my room and it seemed like neither of them cared.
School on Monday was a relief, but my anxiety ramped up. The consequences would be dire if Mother caught on that I was faking sick to stay home. I didn't even want to imagine how off the leash she'd let my half-brother become in his punishment for that level of insubordination.
I stayed up all night, my stomach was in knots, but I was committed to my plan. Throughout the night, I screamed as hard as I could into my pillow. Screamed until my throat was raw and I could barely talk. It felt cathartic in a way. When it was close to school time, I put on my heaviest flannel pajamas and began doing jumping jacks until my face was flushed and my scalp was soaked with sweat.
Looking in the bathroom mirror before heading down to talk to Mother, I thought I looked pretty convincing, my skin was flushed and sweaty, my eyes had circles under them from lack of sleep, and my voice croaked like a frog.
Heading downstairs, Mother was already feeding Thomas breakfast. I hesitantly stepped into the kitchen and stood there awkwardly for a second, pawing with my pajamas to keep my nerves steady until she noticed my presence and looked up.
“Why aren't you dressed, Julianne?"
"I don't feel well. My throat hurts and my tummy hurts.” My voice graveled out more than I was expecting, I really had hurt my throat.
She strode over to me and placed a cool hand on my sweaty brow.
"You do feel warm. Take an aspirin from the medicine cabinet and go lay back down. I'll check on you later," with that she turned back and walked over to Thomas, who was frozen in place, glaring at me over a forkful of scrambled eggs. The sharp glint of malice in his beady eyes made me shiver before I shuffled out of the kitchen.
I laid in bed, trying my best to look miserable until I eventually heard the faint sound of the television playing in the den as Thomas settled in for his normal daytime routine and the garage door opened as Mother headed to the grocery store. I bounded out of bed and watched the car back out of our driveway and head up the street.
My heart began to pound as I tiptoed down the hall to Mother's bedroom, a place I rarely even caught a glimpse of, let alone entered. I very slowly opened the door, taking great care to not make any noise to alert Thomas downstairs that I was out of bed.
Creeping into the butter yellow room, I could feel my heartbeat pounding in my skull, this was the naughtiest thing I had ever done by far. I stepped onto the rug to help disguise my footsteps and slowly made my way past the brass bed and towards her desk. My hands shook as I opened the top drawer, I pawed through rapidly and found nothing. I checked the next drawer down and again found nothing of interest, just stationary and envelopes.
Finally, the bottom drawer was what I was looking for, a stack of journals from the past decade. I flipped through, trying to find entries relevant to when Daddy died and who Mother slept with afterwards.
I've never fully recovered from what I read.
July 6, 1968
Edgar died today. Car accident. I cannot believe this is real. My light, my life, my anchor... Dr. Benson gave me a sedative at the hospital and I feel so tired. So very, very tired. Why has my Lord forsaken me so?
July 9, 1968
I feel like I am in a very bad dream, I feel numb and disconnected. All the consolation and pity from everyone makes me feel sick. After the memorial, it took everything in me to not break dishes and to scream at everyone to get out of my house. Julianne was moping about crying and I wanted to throw her out, too.
If I hadn't seen my dear Edgar's body in the hospital and held his urn in my own hands, I wouldn't believe he was really gone. I still don't entirely believe it.
I have prayed to God every night asking him to show me why he took my husband from me and I have gotten no answer.
I skimmed over the next few months, as it was more or less similar sentiments repeated night after night. I finally got to an entry that caught my eye.
September 17, 1968
My battle with my faith has been fraught the past few months, but Hallelujah! I feel I can see the Lord again in all his glory and might, for he has given me a way to reconnect to my Edgar!
I was thinking about the night Julianne was born, right in this very home, it was a difficult birth and she struggled to breathe at first. Ingrid, my midwife, made a comment to me that if the baby had failed to wake up on her own, that Ingrid had ways to make sure she would have made it.
I remember asking if it was a medical methodology and she made it clear to me that in certain circumstances, it was a mystical property she used to bring the air of life into a struggling baby's lungs. She gently alluded to being a practicing member of the dark arts. At the time, I felt quite scandalized to have someone like that in my God fearing home. Now I see her as the answer to my prayers! My angel!
On a whim, I called her and asked if she still practiced such techniques. She hesitantly confirmed that she did. I asked, if she could turn breath into the lungs of a child without, could she turn breath into a child that did not exist? Could she magick into existence another child of my beloved Edgar? She told me she had to do some research and she'd be back in touch.
Ingrid just called back after a few hours and said there was a spell she found, but it was dangerous and might have unpleasant results. I said, yes, of course! I trust my Lord and I believe he sent this woman of blessed magick to me for this purpose.
She says we will have to do it soon, in a few days during the new moon. She has a potion to brew, but it is happening! Praise God!
September 23, 1968
The ceremony was last night, and Ingrid believes it was a success, but we will have to wait. It did not take long, only an hour or two. Ingrid lit my bedroom with many beeswax candles and she had me drink a thick and bitter tea that caused me to become quite relaxed and foggy.
From my inner thigh, she cut me and collected my blood in a chalice, with which she mixed quite a lot of Edgar's ashes and other ingredients which I could not glean from my supine position and groggy wits. Ingrid began to chant, calling upon a higher power, as I pleaded with my Lord to let this work. To give me any piece of my Edgar back. She came to the bed and worked the paste between my legs into my womanly chamber, which was very uncomfortable, but manageable with the numbing effects of the tea.
She continued to sit with me and chant, her hand placed over my womb, until she decided at which time it was complete. She left and I fell into a deep sleep. When I woke up this morning, I felt quite uncomfortable, my body ached and when I used the restroom, a yellow fluid like pus poured out of me, but no sign of any ashes or blood, which gives me hope it was absorbed into my womb.
November 3, 1968
Praise be to our Lord, Ingrid just confirmed for me that I am with child, I had been hoping so, I had not gotten my cycle in October, but I wasn't sure if that was because of the discharge like pus that was still coming. She told me that was common with this spell and a side effect that would stop after the baby came.
I feel like I am floating on air, for the first time since Edgar left, I feel-
I suddenly became very aware of the feeling of eyes on the back of my head. I had become too engrossed in what was written before me and I had lost track of my surroundings. Very slowly, I turned around and my heart began pounding again as I saw Thomas standing in the doorway holding his wooden spoon in one hand. How had I not heard him?
He pointed at me with his empty hand and screamed, just a pure guttural screech from somewhere deep inside his disgusting little body. He charged at me from across the room, his horrible feet thumping solidly along the rug. He began beating my legs ruthlessly with the spoon, causing my legs to buckle. I crashed down to my knees in front of him, and he began lashing at my face, pulling my hair with one hand while wailing away at my head with the spoon.
I had dropped the journal I was holding and was desperately trying to get a hand on the spoon or push him away. All I could hear was him screaming. My arms flailed and I reached around on Mother's desk and grabbed onto the first thing I found and sank it into Thomas’ neck.
The end of Mother's gold letter opener protruded under his jaw. He went silent and he looked at me with utter shock. He dropped the spoon and collapsed on the ground, clutching at his neck as his thick black blood oozed out from his wound, letting out a stupendous odor of rot that filled the room. He didn't really say anything or make any noise. He just twitched for a moment and I saw his eyes glaze over.
In shock, I stood over his little body for a moment and I watched as he seemed to mummify in just a few minutes, like an ash person from Pompeii dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt. Even his blood that looked like shiny oil a second ago became like potting soil on Mother's rug. Reaching out to touch his hand, it crumbled away like sand.
Panic ran through me like a rabbit caught in a snare. Not knowing what to do, I ran. I ran down the hall, changed my clothes, put an extra change of clothes in my backpack and the last doll Daddy had ever given me and I ran. Mother would absolutely never forgive me and I was genuinely afraid she would kill me in retaliation for taking her beloved Thomas away from her. Her precious gift from God. My feet flew over the pavement and took me away from that house.
I called my Aunt Judy from a payphone outside the five & dime, and told her Mother had kicked me out and asked if I could stay with her. She had always had a strained relationship with my mother and it didn't take much convincing that she had kicked out her “only” child. Only Mother, Ingrid, and I ever knew about Thomas.
She gave me a home and took care of me. She never beat me or humiliated me. Even with her love, I was far from okay. For years I would close my eyes and hear Thomas scream, then the sudden silence. I'd see him fumbling at his neck and turning to ash. But I would also remember all the ways he would hurt me and how bad he was becoming. I could never talk to anyone about it, especially not the silent relief I felt I refused to admit to myself. Over time, however, Thomas' screams became a whisper and his silence faded into dust in my mind.
I moved on with my life. I went to college and became a photojournalist, getting to travel the world and watch history unfold. By choice, I never married, but was quite blessed with many beautiful friendships for companionship over the decades. I found balance in my life and a sense of happiness, if not peace. I never could quite stomach mashed potatoes again, though, they always taste ashy to me.
Mother never made any attempts to reach out to me or find me, at least that I'm aware of. Ten years ago, I was contacted by a hospital and they said my mother had been admitted earlier after falling and was about to pass, so she must have kept some tabs on me to know my phone number for her emergency contacts. Apparently she had collapsed in the driveway and a neighbor called an ambulance. I got there and her only words to me were, “take care of him," as she placed a locket in my hand. I opened the locket, Jesus was on one side, Thomas on the other. I didn't say anything to her, just held her frail old hand with nicotine stained nails until she passed in the night. My mother was gone and I felt nothing except a vague sense of relief.
When I got to her house, it was like a time capsule. Other than a newer television, it was just like it was when I'd fled so many years ago. The smell of tobacco smoke hung like incense in the air. It felt oppressive, like a tomb.
I wandered the house in a bit of a daze. The one place I didn't want to go was upstairs. I didn't want to see my old room, or Thomas' room, or Mother's. Putting it off, I went to fix myself some supper, realizing I hadn't eaten in almost a day. I took a pause when I opened the fridge and saw a baby bottle on a shelf. Silently praying she had been babysitting for a neighbor, I fixed myself some toast with sardines and sat eating in the den watching TV. It had been almost forty years and it still felt rebellious not eating at the table and watching TV without permission.
My eyes grew heavy and I finally mustered up the gumption to head upstairs to go to bed. The stairs creaked in a familiar way under my feet and I was taken back to the feeling of dread hearing either Mother or Thomas climbing up. My old room was at the top of the stairs, I saw the door was nailed shut and had rambling quotes about Judas copied from the Bible in my mother's handwriting taped to the door. I sighed gently and turned from the door to head down the hallway, deciding Mother's room was probably the best place to sleep.
I passed by Thomas’ toy room and I heard a murmur from the room. I stopped, curiosity got the best of me and I entered. In Thomas' old toy room was a crib with joyful clown sheets. Dread swelled up inside me as I heard more murmurs and saw the sheets move. Approaching slowly, I peaked under the sheet and gasped.
Tucked inside was what looked like a baby gargoyle, gray and papery looking. Pus leaked out of its milky, bulbous eyes. I pulled back the blanket and saw it had no legs and its arms bent back, like wings on a bird. It was wearing just a cloth diaper, overflowing with tarry looking stool that took my breath away with its pungency, it smelled like Thomas’ blood, but somehow worse. My heart broke for this poor creature, Lord only knows how many years it has been in this crib suffering from its unholy existence.
So this is who Mother had wanted me to take care of…
Not knowing what else to do, I gently scooped him up. Like Thomas, he was shockingly heavy for how small his body was. Placing him on the changing table, I cleaned him and rewrapped his bottom in a clean diaper cloth. It was difficult, he fussed tremendously, crying and flopping around as much as his flipper-like arms would allow. I tried wiping off his oozing eyes and he snapped his mouth, which I saw was full of disturbingly square yellow teeth, trying to bite me. I carried him to the kitchen and rocked him while I heated up his bottle and he became furious with me, almost barking like a dog when my hand would get near his face.
He settled a bit as he fed, but he would still sometimes suddenly spit out the bottle and attempt to bite me. I laid him back in his crib, this abomination in a clown sheet, and I walked down the hall to Mother's room letting out a long sigh.
Combing through my mother's journals in the early hours of the morning, it looked like she tried the ceremony again shortly after Thomas died, but she either lacked Ingrid’s help or didn't have enough of my father's ashes left. Something went terribly wrong. She was vaguer than she had been about Thomas’ conception, but I suspect she had used some of Thomas' remains. The resulting birth she named Isaac.
Mother's journals told a sad tale of her and Isaac's suffering. She never mentioned me, but lamented the loss of Thomas and Dad relentlessly. She was hyper protective of Isaac, as that was all she had left. If her world had been small before, it became microscopic after he entered her life, requiring nearly constant care. According to Mother, he was blind and colicky, sometimes going years at a time without sleeping through the night. She had breast fed him for years, but she had to stop after he grew teeth and began biting her intentionally and feeding on her blood.
I spent a lot of time over the next few days pondering what to do. I had to get her estate in order, she had left me the house, in an obvious attempt to get me to continue caretaking for Isaac, but I didn't want it. I had my own cozy home an hour away from here, filled with happy memories and my possessions acquired traveling the world. Mother's home had a heavy energy I couldn't shake. Her and Thomas were both gone, but the memories of the scoldings and beatings hung in every corner, like cobwebs that would never sweep away.
So, I fed Isaac and kept him clean and tried to keep him company, although he seemed to hate me passionately. I took care of him, all the while thinking about what I was going to do. After a week, I felt resolute in what had to be done.
Gathering up all of Mother's journals in a tote, I made my way to Isaac and picked him up and carried everything to the living room.
The ancient logs in the fireplace meant for display ignited instantly. One by one, I fed the journals into the fire, burning away years of my mother's consuming sorrow. Isaac fussed and moaned next to me the entire time. When the last pages shimmered away into lacy ash, I took a throw pillow off the couch and gently cradled Isaac in my other arm. It didn't take long before he stopped struggling and I felt his little body relax after decades of suffering.
I gently wrapped up a bundle in a clown sheet and placed it in the fire. It burned furiously, like the paper in my mother's journals, and was soon gone. Nothing but ashes and embers.
“Don't worry, Mother,” I said purely for my own sake, "I took care of Isaac for you."
And finally, I felt at peace.
2024.05.14 03:17 sanaru02 Questions about AI and transferring writing
So in the years I've spent working on the drafts for my novel, I've realized I much prefer writing / editing in the physical (books, plain paper, etc). Unfortunately, my last draft has been pretty much all digital as I've been using scrivener. The work of retyping writing my physical media is time consuming, and while sometimes valuable, often not exactly soul rejuvenating work.
With the advent of AI, have any of you used a program that can take pictures of writings and transfer them to documents such as word or whatnot?
I understand that I would need to input each letter as I write it to teach the AI, probably multiple times, to teach it. That is of no problem to me, yet, I'm rather unfamiliar with the AI space and so I'm just reaching out for any and all input. Also, If this is indeed possible, I would like something that is self contained (no longer attached to global network) as I'd prefer my work not be circulated into the AI theft sphere that already seems uncontrollable - even if that means paying for it.
Thanks in advance for any and all help.
Edit : OCR has been recommended, at it seems there are a lot out there in a wide price range. Recommendations for one specialized for handwriting?
submitted by sanaru02 to thewritespace [link] [comments]
With the advent of AI, have any of you used a program that can take pictures of writings and transfer them to documents such as word or whatnot?
I understand that I would need to input each letter as I write it to teach the AI, probably multiple times, to teach it. That is of no problem to me, yet, I'm rather unfamiliar with the AI space and so I'm just reaching out for any and all input. Also, If this is indeed possible, I would like something that is self contained (no longer attached to global network) as I'd prefer my work not be circulated into the AI theft sphere that already seems uncontrollable - even if that means paying for it.
Thanks in advance for any and all help.
Edit : OCR has been recommended, at it seems there are a lot out there in a wide price range. Recommendations for one specialized for handwriting?
2024.05.13 16:20 linkbuildingexperts Exploring Graphic Design in South Africa: A Comprehensive Guide
In today's digital age, graphic design surrounds you, from the billboards that dot the highways to the sleek interface of your favourite app. It's an art form that combines creativity with strategy, aiming to communicate ideas and messages through visual content. Whether it's a vibrant logo that captures the essence of a brand or an infographic that breaks down complex information, graphic design is at the heart of visual communication.
As a career, graphic design offers a canvas for innovation and expression, blending art and technology to create compelling designs that inform, engage, and persuade. In South Africa, where the creative industries continue to bloom, graphic design plays a pivotal role in the business landscape, driving the creation of digital and print media that resonate with consumers. If you're intrigued by the power of visual storytelling and considering a career in this dynamic field, understanding the fundamentals of graphic design is your first step towards unlocking your creative potential.
Graphic design is more than just aesthetics; it's about solving problems and communicating ideas visually. It combines various elements such as typography, images, colours, and layouts to create engaging designs that capture attention, inform, and sometimes persuade the audience. Whether it's a branding campaign, a website design, or product packaging, every piece of design communicates a story to its viewers.
In South Africa, graphic design has weaved its unique thread through the country's rich tapestry of cultural diversity. Emerging from a background of traditional art forms and evolving through the apartheid and post-apartheid eras, today's South African graphic design scene is a vibrant mix of traditional African elements and modern digital artistry. This blend offers a distinct flavour to South African design, making it recognisable on the global stage.
The evolution of graphic design in South Africa closely aligns with technological advancements and educational progress in the field. Institutions like Oakfields College play a pivotal role in shaping the new generation of graphic designers through comprehensive graphic design courses and short courses in South Africa. These programs not only equip students with the necessary skills in traditional and digital design but also incorporate critical thinking and strategy, preparing them for a successful career in the industry.
Moreover, South Africa has embraced the digital revolution in graphic design, with many designers and agencies placing a strong emphasis on digital mediums. This transition has not only expanded the scope of graphic design in the country but also opened up a plethora of opportunities for designers to innovate and create with global reach.
Whether you're considering a career in this dynamic field or simply have an appreciation for the art form, understanding the history of graphic design, especially within the South African context, enriches your perspective of its impact and potential. For those looking to dive deeper into this industry, seeking out the best graphic design courses in South Africa is a solid first step towards mastering the craft and contributing to its ongoing story.
The role of graphic design in various industries is immense, offering vast opportunities for creative expression and professional growth. Whether you're interested in marketing and advertising, digital design, publishing, or entertainment and media, graphic design courses in South Africa can equip you with the necessary skills to thrive in these exciting fields. Explore the best graphic design courses and embrace the journey toward becoming a prominent designer in the industry.
Engaging with both traditional tools and modern software equips you with a versatile skill set, crucial for navigating the diverse graphic design landscape in South Africa. Whether you're aiming to excel in branding, digital design, or any other specialization within the field, harnessing these tools will be key to your success.
Graphic design is more than just an artistic endeavour; it's a pivotal element of South Africa's creative landscape. With its rich history and evolving nature, the field offers a vibrant pathway for those looking to make their mark. Through institutions like Oakfields College, aspiring designers have access to comprehensive training that covers everything from fundamentals to advanced specialisations. Whether you're drawn to branding, digital design, or another niche, the opportunities in this dynamic industry are vast. Embarking on a graphic design career not only allows you to explore your creative passions but also to contribute significantly to the digital and creative sectors. Remember, your journey in graphic design is not just about mastering tools or techniques; it's about shaping visual narratives that resonate. So, if you're ready to dive into this exciting field, the time to start is now.
submitted by linkbuildingexperts to u/linkbuildingexperts [link] [comments]
As a career, graphic design offers a canvas for innovation and expression, blending art and technology to create compelling designs that inform, engage, and persuade. In South Africa, where the creative industries continue to bloom, graphic design plays a pivotal role in the business landscape, driving the creation of digital and print media that resonate with consumers. If you're intrigued by the power of visual storytelling and considering a career in this dynamic field, understanding the fundamentals of graphic design is your first step towards unlocking your creative potential.
Key Takeaways
- Understanding Graphic Design: Graphic design is a vital form of communication that merges art with technology to effectively convey messages and ideas. In South Africa, it is not only a burgeoning career path but also key in visual storytelling, crucial for brands and information dissemination.
- Core Elements of Graphic Design: Successful graphic design relies on fundamental elements like typography, colour theory, and layout/composition. Mastery of these components is essential for creating visually engaging designs that communicate effectively.
- Specialisation Areas: Graphic design in South Africa encompasses various specialisation areas including branding, packaging design, and digital design. Each area offers unique opportunities for creativity and innovation.
- Graphic Design Tools and Software: A mix of traditional tools (e.g., pencils, markers) and modern software (such as Adobe Creative Suite and Sketch) is necessary for contemporary graphic design. Familiarity with these tools is crucial for both creativity and efficiency.
- Pursuing a Career in Graphic Design: With the right education and skills, numerous career opportunities open up in advertising, digital design, publishing, and freelancing. South Africa offers a range of courses and programs, like those at Oakfields College, tailored to equip aspiring designers for the industry.
- The Importance of Continuous Learning: Staying updated with the latest design trends and technologies is vital for a successful career in graphic design, highlighting the importance of ongoing education through short courses and professional development.
Understanding Graphic Design
Graphic design stands as a pivotal form of communication, blending art and technology to convey messages and ideas effectively. In South Africa, where the creative industries are burgeoning, graphic design emerges as a compelling career pathway, offering endless opportunities for innovation and expression. This section delves into the essence of graphic design, its fundamental components, and why mastering these concepts is crucial for aspiring designers.Graphic design is more than just aesthetics; it's about solving problems and communicating ideas visually. It combines various elements such as typography, images, colours, and layouts to create engaging designs that capture attention, inform, and sometimes persuade the audience. Whether it's a branding campaign, a website design, or product packaging, every piece of design communicates a story to its viewers.
Core Elements of Graphic Design
Firstly, understanding the basic elements of graphic design is essential. These elements include:- Typography: The art of arranging type, which is a crucial aspect of design. It's not just about choosing fonts; it's about creating readable and appealing text that enhances the message.
- Colour Theory: Colour plays a vital role in graphic design. It can influence mood, convey messages, and even affect purchasing decisions. Understanding colour theory helps in choosing the right palette for your projects.
- Layout and Composition: How elements are arranged on a page determines how effectively the design communicates. Good layout and composition bring balance, guide the viewer’s eye, and ensure the design is aesthetically pleasing.
Specialisation Areas in Graphic Design
The field of graphic design in South Africa is diverse, with several areas of specialisation, including:- Branding and Visual Identity: Creating a visual identity for brands that communicates their values and distinguishes them from competitors.
- Packaging Design: This involves designing attractive and functional packaging that stands out on the shelf while protecting the product.
- Digital Design: This encompasses website design, mobile app design, and social media graphics, among others.
History of Graphic Design
Tracing the origins of graphic design takes you back to the dawn of human expression, but its professional identity and terminology began shaping during the 20th century. The term 'graphic design' itself was coined by William Addison Dwiggins in 1922, marking the official separation of design as a distinct profession which encompasses typography, visual arts, and page layout for the purposes of marketing, advertising, and informing.In South Africa, graphic design has weaved its unique thread through the country's rich tapestry of cultural diversity. Emerging from a background of traditional art forms and evolving through the apartheid and post-apartheid eras, today's South African graphic design scene is a vibrant mix of traditional African elements and modern digital artistry. This blend offers a distinct flavour to South African design, making it recognisable on the global stage.
The evolution of graphic design in South Africa closely aligns with technological advancements and educational progress in the field. Institutions like Oakfields College play a pivotal role in shaping the new generation of graphic designers through comprehensive graphic design courses and short courses in South Africa. These programs not only equip students with the necessary skills in traditional and digital design but also incorporate critical thinking and strategy, preparing them for a successful career in the industry.
Moreover, South Africa has embraced the digital revolution in graphic design, with many designers and agencies placing a strong emphasis on digital mediums. This transition has not only expanded the scope of graphic design in the country but also opened up a plethora of opportunities for designers to innovate and create with global reach.
Whether you're considering a career in this dynamic field or simply have an appreciation for the art form, understanding the history of graphic design, especially within the South African context, enriches your perspective of its impact and potential. For those looking to dive deeper into this industry, seeking out the best graphic design courses in South Africa is a solid first step towards mastering the craft and contributing to its ongoing story.
Key Principles of Graphic Design
Understanding the key principles of graphic design is essential for creating visually compelling and effective designs. These principles serve as the foundational guidelines that ensure your work communicates the intended message to your audience, especially within the South African context where cultural diversity and historical background profoundly influence visual communication.Layout and Structure
The layout and structure form the backbone of graphic design. Utilising layout software, designers position text, images and incorporate features such as columns and advertisements to achieve a balanced and visually attractive product. For instance, in crafting layouts for newspapers, magazines, or books, the arrangement dictates how readers process information, making it crucial to guide the audience through the design in a logical sequence. South African designers must be adept at using tools like InDesign to create layouts that not only look good but also respect the cultural nuances and readability preferences of the local audience.Typeface Design
Creating or selecting the right typeface is key to conveying your design's intended tone and personality. Each font carries its own weight and style, impacting how text is perceived. Original fonts designed for specific digital applications, including websites and adverts, must be readable, scalable, and aesthetically pleasing. South Africa's rich cultural tapestry offers an opportunity for typeface designers to explore unique font styles that reflect local heritage and language diversity, enhancing the global richness of typeface design.Colour Theory
A fundamental component of graphic design, colour theory explains how colours interact with each other and the effects they have on the viewer. The right colour palette can evoke emotions, communicate messages, and influence actions. In South Africa, with its vibrant landscapes and diverse cultures, colour holds significant importance. Utilising colour effectively requires understanding local cultural differences and preferences, ensuring designs resonate with the intended audience while achieving the desired impact.Web Page Design
The digital realm offers vast opportunities for graphic designers to express creativity and innovation. Designing the structure and appearance of websites demands a combination of layout skills, colour theory application, and typeface selection. Graphic designers often create PSD or AI files that are then converted into functional websites. In a South African context, where digital access and consumption patterns vary widely across different demographics, designers have to be strategic in their design decisions, ensuring accessibility and responsiveness across devices.The Role of Graphic Design in Various Industries
Graphic design, with its profound ability to communicate visually, plays a pivotal role across various industries. Its significance in the South African context, driven by cultural diversity and a unique historical backdrop, cannot be overstated. As you explore the vast landscape of graphic design, you'll discover its application in marketing and advertising, digital design, publishing, and entertainment and media. Let's delve into how graphic design shapes these industries and the opportunities it presents for aspiring designers, especially those considering enrolling in graphic design courses or short courses in South Africa.Marketing and Advertising
In the competitive market of South Africa, graphic design serves as the backbone of successful marketing and advertising campaigns. Designers craft compelling visuals that not only grab the attention of the target audience but also convey the brand's message effectively. From creating eye-catching advertisements to designing sophisticated marketing materials, graphic designers ensure that a brand stands out in a crowded marketplace. Engaging visuals in billboards, flyers, brochures, and digital ads are all testaments to the creativity and strategic thinking of graphic designers. With the best graphic design courses in South Africa, you can unlock your potential and help brands tell their stories compellingly.Digital Design
The digital landscape is ever-evolving, and graphic design is at the heart of this transformation. In South Africa, where the digital economy continues to grow, the demand for skilled graphic designers who can navigate web page design, UX/UI, and social media content creation is on the rise. Digital design focuses on crafting user-friendly and aesthetically pleasing online experiences. Whether it's through website design, mobile app interfaces, or engaging social media posts, graphic designers play a critical role in shaping how brands interact with their audiences online. By pursuing short courses in graphic design with a focus on digital applications, you're setting yourself up for a rewarding career in this dynamic field.Publishing
The publishing industry in South Africa, which includes books, magazines, newspapers, and catalogs, relies heavily on graphic design to attract and retain readership. Publication designers work closely with authors and publishers to create layouts, choose typefaces, and select images that enhance the readability and appeal of printed materials. The goal is to create visually attractive publications that communicate content effectively, whether it's for educational, informational, or entertainment purposes. graphic design course that specialise in publication design can provide you with the skills needed to excel in this sector.Entertainment and Media
Graphic design's influence extends into the entertainment and media industry, creating unforgettable visuals for films, television shows, video games, and music productions. Designers collaborate with directors and producers to craft branding, promotional materials, and visual effects that define the aesthetic of a production. In South Africa, where the entertainment industry is vibrant and diverse, graphic designers contribute to the cultural fabric by creating artwork that resonates with both local and international audiences. Short courses in South Africa focusing on graphic design for entertainment and media can launch your career in this exhilarating field.The role of graphic design in various industries is immense, offering vast opportunities for creative expression and professional growth. Whether you're interested in marketing and advertising, digital design, publishing, or entertainment and media, graphic design courses in South Africa can equip you with the necessary skills to thrive in these exciting fields. Explore the best graphic design courses and embrace the journey toward becoming a prominent designer in the industry.
Graphic Design Tools and Software
Embarking on a journey in graphic design, you'll discover that it's not just about creativity but also about the tools and software that bring your ideas to life. Whether you're interested in pursuing one of the best graphic design courses or just starting to dip your toes into this vibrant field, knowing the right tools is essential. In South Africa, where the design landscape is as diverse as its culture, having a toolkit equipped with both traditional and modern instruments is key to making your mark.Traditional Tools
Before the digital age took over, graphic designers relied heavily on traditional tools to conceptualise and create their artwork. These tools weren't just instruments; they were extensions of the designers' hands and minds, allowing them to manifest their visions into tangible forms.- Pencils and sketchpads are indispensable, even today, for quickly jotting down ideas or sketching preliminary designs. These basics enable you to freely express your initial concepts without the constraints of software interfaces.
- Rulers and stencils aid in creating clean, precise lines and shapes, ensuring that your work maintains professional standards of accuracy.
- Markers and paint allow for the exploration of colour and texture, adding a unique touch to logos or illustrations that digital means might not fully replicate.
Modern Software
As technology advanced, the realm of graphic design expanded, introducing a suite of modern software that has become indispensable to today's designer. This software not only enhances efficiency but also opens up infinite possibilities for creativity and collaboration.- Adobe Creative Suite, including Photoshop, Illustrator, and InDesign, is the cornerstone of professional graphic design. These applications offer powerful tools for image manipulation, vector artwork creation, and layout design, making them a staple in graphic design courses.
- CorelDraw Graphics Suite provides robust vector editing capabilities alongside layout and photo-editing tools, tailored for versatility in various design tasks.
- Sketch has become a go-to for web and mobile interface design, with its intuitive vector tools and simplified interface, making it a popular choice for those specialising in digital design.
Engaging with both traditional tools and modern software equips you with a versatile skill set, crucial for navigating the diverse graphic design landscape in South Africa. Whether you're aiming to excel in branding, digital design, or any other specialization within the field, harnessing these tools will be key to your success.
Pursuing a Career in Graphic Design
Graphic design, a field that artfully combines text, images, and concepts to communicate ideas, offers a myriad of career possibilities. In South Africa, where the digital and creative industries are rapidly expanding, pursuing a career in graphic design can be both fulfilling and lucrative. Let’s delve into how you can embark on this exciting journey.Educational Pathways
Your venture into the world of graphic design begins with the right education. South African institutions, including Oakfields College, offer comprehensive programmes that cater not just to the theoretical aspects of graphic design but also to the practical, hands-on experiences necessary for success in the industry.- Graphic Design Courses: You'll find a range of options, from diplomas to bachelor’s degrees. These courses cover fundamental principles such as typography, layout design, and colour theory, along with modern digital design tools. Oakfields College is renowned for its focused curriculum that prepares you for the real-world challenges of a graphic designer.
- Short Courses in South Africa: If you're looking for a more flexible learning path or wish to specialise in a particular area like web design or digital marketing, short courses can be invaluable. These programmes are perfect for staying abreast of the latest trends and technologies in the graphic design realm.
- Best Graphic Design Courses: When selecting a course, consider institutions that offer a balanced mix of theory and practical application. Courses that include internships or work placement opportunities, like those at Oakfields College, are particularly beneficial as they provide real industry experience and a chance to build a professional network.
Career Opportunities
After equipping yourself with the necessary knowledge and skills, a diverse range of career opportunities awaits. Here's a glimpse of what you can expect:- Advertising and Branding: Companies constantly seek talented graphic designers to create compelling advertising campaigns and develop strong brand identities.
- Digital Design: With the digital age in full swing, careers in web design, user interface (UI) design, and user experience (UX) design are in high demand. Designers with skills in creating visually appealing and user-friendly digital spaces are highly sought after.
- Publishing and Print Media: Despite the rise of digital media, there's still a significant need for designers in the publishing industry. From magazines to books and newspapers, graphic designers play a crucial role in layout and visual storytelling.
- Freelancing: For those who prefer a more flexible work environment, freelancing offers the freedom to choose projects that align with your interests and expertise. Platforms such as Behance and LinkedIn can help you showcase your portfolio and connect with potential clients.
Graphic design is more than just an artistic endeavour; it's a pivotal element of South Africa's creative landscape. With its rich history and evolving nature, the field offers a vibrant pathway for those looking to make their mark. Through institutions like Oakfields College, aspiring designers have access to comprehensive training that covers everything from fundamentals to advanced specialisations. Whether you're drawn to branding, digital design, or another niche, the opportunities in this dynamic industry are vast. Embarking on a graphic design career not only allows you to explore your creative passions but also to contribute significantly to the digital and creative sectors. Remember, your journey in graphic design is not just about mastering tools or techniques; it's about shaping visual narratives that resonate. So, if you're ready to dive into this exciting field, the time to start is now.