PC

Discord Tag: 7up
Name and House: Ronnel Arryn
Age: 33
Cultural Group: Valeman
Appearance: Cheekbones poised like a falcon perched, an aquiline nose after a raptor's beak, a stature rivalling a mountain's (if it were the size of a tall man), and blue eyes the same color as the sky. Aside from a propagandist's parallels to whatever sigil their patron displays, Ronnel Arryn errs from the example of the aloof falcon. Once possessed of a heedless will, a brashness and an impatience, those qualities have been tamed in turn by fatherhood, husbandhood, and rulership—though those traits still persist, merely tinged by the manner that an elder brother might take with the younger. His hair has shifted from dirty blond to sandy brown with age, and a trimmed beard covers his jaw.
Trait: Inspiring
Skill(s): Blunt Weapons, Cavalryman, Tactician, Cunning (e)
Talent(s): Falconry, hunting (non-mechanical 🤫🧏‍♂️), dragonriding
Negative Trait(s): N/A
Starting Title(s): Lord of the Eyrie, Lord of the Vale, Defender of the Guarded Domains of Arryn, Warden of the East, Warden of the Green Fork, First and Last of His Name, the King Who Flew, Rider of Vhagar (sometimes), and the Last King in Westeros
Starting Location: Feast
Family Tree

AC

Name and House: Marq Hardyng
Age: 32
Cultural Group: Valeman
Appearance: A broad and ruddy man, blonde, brown-eyed, and bearded. Marq Hardyng wears his duty on his sleeve; that duty mostly being hunting with his milk brother.
Trait: Hale
Skill(s): Swords, Investigator (e)
Talent(s): Tourney lore x3
Negative Trait(s): N/A
Starting Title(s): Scion of House Hardyng
Starting Location: Feast

Biography

Little of the Last King’s early years are of much import; Ronnel Arryn was born to King Joffrey I and Queen Sharra Arryn. His few memories of his father were that of a pallid man, wan and sickly but still a king who bloody well fought the illness that plagued him.
Or perhaps those were just fanciful tales, an imagined story that supplanted the truth of the matter.
Joffrey Arryn did at least survive, if he did not fight. Ronnel’s siblings, Jonos and Roland, would be born in succession. The falcons grew in number, Joffrey’s ailment ceased, and—the gods took him away and brought Arwen Arryn into the world.
Shortly after his sister’s birth, Sharra Arryn dressed her son in royal regalia and placed a crown on his head, assuming rule as sole regent while the boy distracted himself with toys and games. He would be nursed with Marq Hardyng, and he and his milk brother grew to be quick friends.
The Queen Sharra could not rest. There were new contenders on the horizon, greater than what meager assaults the Hoares could occasionally muster against the Bloody Gate: the threefold conquerors atop their dragons. Where the ravens sent by Aegon were met with scorn by Durrandon and hubris by the Hoares, Sharra offered alliance. Her hand in marriage and the left bank of the Green Fork to be annexed into the Guarded Domains.
The dragons rejected the offer, and instead, a Velaryon fleet was sent to take Gulltown and establish a foothold. They were repelled and the Targaryen ships were sunk for that transgression, but Vhagar’s fire consumed the Grafton fleet with them.
Ronnel knew what war was. It was like those tales in storybooks, that of the Griffin King and the Winged Knight, the legends of the Battle of Sevenstars. He, Jonos, and Marq fashioned themselves as Jaime Corbray or Luceon Templeton and fought each other over who could best live up to Artys Arryn’s example. When the Gates of the Moon swelled with men-at-arms, knights, and levied smallfolk, the three would find the most fearsome looking of them and challenge them to duels. Once he heard of dragons, though, Ronnel was consumed. He begged his mother to let him lead a parlay under a peace banner just so that he could see them, but Sharra sent him off to the nurses or left him to kick rocks in the courtyard.
The banners gathered, and the defenses were headed by Lord Rodrik Hardyng. Orders were given, the soldiers were drilled. And Vhagar’s wings cast a shadow so large that it engulfed the Bloody Gate whole. Shouting on the ramparts and in the valleys, but high above in the Eyrie? Ronnel, then just eight, was in awe at the sight.
Sharra could only muster a smile when she returned to find her son on Visenya’s lap. An accord was struck, on Ronnel’s terms this time: he asked to fly on Vhagar and his mother would surrender the crown to the Targaryen Queen. The mercy that Visenya afforded was well-taken, though in Sharra’s mind, the threat of dragonfire crystallized.
A marked shift came then. There were no battles to be won, no politicking to be done that outweighed the import of her sons and her daughter. The Queen-Regent, now the Lady-Regent, empowered her son’s advisors and devoted her time to looking after her children. When Visenya returned after burning House Sunderland whole and gave reprimands, Sharra frowned and offered blunt words in turn, which the Queen acquiesced to. Their relationship thawed hence, though Ronnel had never wavered in his admiration of the Targaryen. A Winged-Knight-Come-Again. Perhaps he could ride a dragon of his own one day.
Ronnel was a rowdy lad and by the time he was of squiring age, he was content to leave the rule of his lands to his mother and whoever she picked as an advisor. Lords such as Lyn Egen, Willem Ryger, and Rodrik Templeton would come to advise the young lord or hawk with him. Lord Mathos Grafton became the most prominent of that cadre, his wisdom in old age allowing him more room for criticism. Ronnel wanted to while his time away with falconry and training, while the old lord reminded him of the issues that Targaryen reign brought.
At four-and-ten, Ronnel stole away from the Eyrie and gathered what boys and knights he could to face the mountain clans. He knew what war was; it was the Root Father and his savages, stealing and laying waste to the lands he was sworn to protect. It was in the throes of battle that Ronnel would be dubbed as a knight by some unknown dying man. The knighthood was left unmentioned, though the purpose he found for his rule—no, his guardianship—lingered.
In his victorious return to the Eyrie, Ronnel would be clouted on the ear for the stunt then barred from leaving for months. Visenya Targaryen landed once more in the Vale. This time, she took it as a home, and she was welcomed with open arms. Aegon’s heir was born in the Eyrie that year, dubbed as Laenor Targaryen and soon practically adopted by the Arryns as their younger sibling. Sharra would grow close to the dragon queen in the years to come.
A year later, Ronnel was sent to King’s Landing to squire for Orys Baratheon. Only a few months elapsed before he grew incensed with the Hand over one thing or another, and the squireship ended when the Arryn came to blows with his knight-master. Ronnel was sent back to the Vale, where he earned his spurs once more. Publicly this time, before a crowd of tourneygoers and then holding a vigil with oaths modeled after those of the Winged Knights.
Though he gave off the impression of a true knight by that time, he was more preoccupied with wine and women and the hunt than statecraft. In any room he entered, he laughed the loudest, boasted the loudest, fought the hardest, always with Marq at his side. Nothing but a scolding from his mother Sharra or a clout on the ear from his second mother Visenya could fetter him. He was a falcon, and he flew high and bright.
Such a lofty stature is bound to attract envy. As any elder brother would, he butted heads with his siblings often. His rivalry with his brother Jonos was much more than a sibling spat, however, though the nature and root of their rivalry is unknown to all but a select few. In later years, their quarrels grew louder and their rifts deeper, with Jonos having been sent thrice to play second fiddle to the Knight of the Bloody Gate, and threatened with taking the black twice as many times. Still, their early quarrels proved to be mere distractions, and they wreaked what havoc boy-lords would in taverns and winesinks.
But his lip had to become stiff the day his mother died, just a few months after he came of age and assumed power. Sharra Arryn's last words of advice ate away at his spirit.
"Kill the boy."
So he was offered at the altar, and so did Rhaenys Targaryen seize the opportunity. Ronnel Arryn would be wed to the Queen’s lady-in-waiting, Serena Stark, and that match was confirmed by Sharra’s will. Yet numb, he received his wife to be in Gulltown with courtesy, and they were wedded with haste. Once a Princess of the North and now the Lady of the Vale, Serena found no home in the Eyrie. Ronnel came to avoid her; going on hunts, staying at the Moongates or even the Bloody Gate, and offering only short conversation in their rare meetings.
It came to a head when Serena stated her intention to return to Winterfell. Ronnel gave a shrug in response, and asked when she wanted to depart. Jonos could be his heir if need be, and his mother’s death still dragged his thoughts, so why bother at all?
The intervention of one dragon queen then another halted the split: Visenya reminded Ronnel that Aegon made two marriages work at once. A raven carrying a letter from Queen Rhaenys arrived, affixed with a ring wrought of Valyrian steel. Ronnel gave it to Serena as a peace offering.
There was no parting from the Targaryens’ grand plans, it seemed. So Ronnel’s marriage with Serena began anew. She would be introduced to the Vale and its customs with feasts and tourneys, sitting on councils and holding court as the Lady of the Vale. In the same vein, more familiar items and furnishings were brought in from the North, and Ronnel would journey to the weirwood tree that the mountain clans held sacred to try to pray with his wife. He did not hear the old gods’ whispers and could not bear the stillness, but the two came to understand one another, and their marriage grew warm. Their first child, Robar Arryn, was born a year later, and the Tourney by the Maiden’s Bay would be held in his honor.
Ronnel settled into his reign. His liveliness returned, though boyish pursuits were restrained with fatherhood. He replaced the Keeper of the Gates of the Moon after the Cavaliers proved more competent, sent tax collector after tax collector when Witch Isle grew silent (and nearly called the banners before being dissuaded), and ensured that the mountain clans and any other would-be invaders were quelled while Lae Targaryen was raised to be a greater king than their father. The Brotherhood of the Winged Knights, once decrepit, grew stronger after pieces of the Winged Knight’s armor were found.
His second child, a daughter, would be born then. Faced with the choice of naming her after Sharra or Visenya, she would instead be named after her great-grandmother Cynthea. Artos Arryn would follow four years later, his name chosen by the Lady Arryn.
Another day in the Eyrie. Five-and-twenty years after Aegon's Conquest, and near thirty years into Ronnel's reign. He slides a razor over his cheek and coughs once into a fist. Ronnel opens his palm to see droplets of blood. He wipes his cheek. A shaving cut, no doubt and no matter.
The next week while he sups with his family, the coughs come back. He excuses himself, blames his trip to the valleys with a chuckle, and Jonos meets his gaze with a sidelong glance before shirking away.
He sees his maester without telling anyone. And once more after a hunt. Soon, he is left sitting on his bed with grains of sweetsleep in hand and a warning: he would die. And soon.
Ronnel Arryn is honorable. He is just, or at least just enough. But when he bounces his son on his knee and looks into smiling grey eyes where his Stark mother's are oft stern, he wonders whether the next Targaryen to come to the Eyrie would let little Artos fly or burn him and his family whole.
It is not enough. Ronnel Arryn is not just enough. As the last king yet walking on the earth of this damnable regent's kingdom, he needs to ensure that the next monarch in Laenor Targaryen sits firmly on the Iron Throne before he dies—honor be damned if need be, by any means fucking necessary. That is his duty to the realm. That is his duty to his wife and children, and that will be his legacy.

Timeline

• 8-9 BC (33 now idk how BC works): Born the first child to King Joffrey I and Queen Sharra Arryn.
• 3 BC: Joffrey I dies of a chill. Ronnel is crowned king at age six.
• 1 BC: After House Grafton’s fleet is burned, the armies of the Guarded Domains gather at the Bloody Gate. Visenya’s landing.
• 2 AC: The Three Sisters burn.
• 4 AC: Ronnel begins squiring for Elbert Waynwood.
• 6 AC: Ronnel fights his first battle against the Sons of the Tree, and undergoes his first dubbing.
• 7-9 AC: Visenya arrives at the Eyrie. Ronnel departs for King’s Landing to squire for Orys Baratheon, returning after a fight with his knight-master. He is knighted once more at a tourney.
• 10-11 AC: Sharra Arryn dies, and the Arryns’ grief is cut short by a match arranged by Rhaenys and approved by the Lady-Regent before her death. Serena Stark and Ronnel Arryn are wed, and the marriage nearly falls apart before the intervention of the dragon queens.
• 12 AC: Robar Arryn is born. The Tourney by the Maiden’s Bay is called in the new heir's honor.
• 13 AC: The Cavaliers fight off the Painted Dogs outside the Gates of the Moon, and are given wardenship over them as reward. Marq Hardyng begins pursuing the tourney circuit.
• 15 AC: Cynthea Arryn is born.
• 19 AC: Artos Arryn is born.
• 23 AC: With Jonos Arryn settling into a discontent life at the Bloody Gate, the need for a sworn sword is lessened. Marq Hardyng travels to Essos to search for clues linking the Winged Knight to the Andal conquerors. He finds none, and returns a year later.
• Early 25 AC: An illness wells in Ronnel’s lungs. His maester tells him that he has about a year to live.
• Late 25 AC: The Arryns travel to the celebration near King’s Landing.

Sup porting Characters

• Cortnay Arryn, 54 (General): Ronnel’s uncle. Once a prince, Cortnay served variously as the Knight of the Gate, the Captain of the Guards, or an advisor. Cortnay is known for his exasperated sighs, and struggles to keep up when he hunts with his nephew. Still, he has a good head for tactics and participated in actions against the Mountain Clans and the Hoares.
• Jasper Arryn, 19 (General): Ronnel’s second cousin. Though removed from the main line of House Arryn, Jasper was raised in the Gates and remained a fixture in the Arryn household. He swore vows modeled after the Ash-Branded, though his cheery disposition seems to contradict them.
• Cynthea Corbray, 78 (N/A): The Queen-Grandmother claims to have been asleep when Visenya landed in the Eyrie, and preserved her coronet by hiding it in the Gates. She resides at the Gates of the Moon with the Cavaliers, and it has become tradition to pay one’s respects to her when passing through.
• Jonos Arryn, 31 (N/A): In another world, Jonos would be known as the Kinslayer, and he certainly possesses that propensity. Wed to Maris Grafton and perhaps favored by her lord grandfather, he has long since hated the Targaryens, and blames Visenya for his true mother’s death. Jonos’ truculence precedes him, and he is kept fettered with thankless offices.

I have been diagnosed with a painful autoimmune disease and need to find a remote job asap. However, I know it is a red flag to have worked at one company for 12+ years and be jumping ship. People want to know why. My employer just doesn't have those kinds of opportunities available. Could I say something vague like, "Looking at opportunities to work remotely in the mortgage industry due to relocation of family member" (Once I have been working remote for a while I hope to relocate closer to my family that just moved)

I live in Colorado, USA. My wife and I listed our condo for sale in early March and accepted an offer of 325k. While under contract a major wind storm removed roof shingles and we reported it to the HOA the day it happened. Nothing done for 3 weeks and during that period a major thunderstorm came and dumped water into our condo. Whole ceiling has water damage and since the roof is slanted the water ran between the ceiling and roof into our walls. While the roof was still missing shingles we contacted multiple roofers to see if we could pay for a patch but they stated the roof is completed failed from a major hail storm a year ago and the roof was also installed incorrectly. Roofers also said they would not work on the roof for legal reasons since they were not approved by the HOA.
We then had a lawyer write a letter requesting action and got nothing from the HOA. It’s been 2 months since that letter was sent and still the HOA won’t talk to us. Their lawyers have also not responded at all. HOA sent out unqualified people to patch roof and have since found out water is still slowly leaking in.
Since the roof was patched our buyer requested water remediation and drywall repair and since our HOA went silent and we are trying to close the sale we contacted our homeowners insurance. Insurance said sure we will cover it and we didn’t want to file a claim but we just wanted to be done with the condo. Water remediation comes in and starts demolition work this week and once they open the ceiling it’s mold through the roof and ceiling. Telling us they cannot keep working unless the roof is completely replaced, mold remediated, and then dry wall can be installed.
Also the roof was patched and the whole ceiling was replaced a year ago and the HOA contractors lied and said it could just be dry wall repair and just covered up the mold. It took us over 8 months to get the HOA to fix the ceiling the first time while water continued to pour in and damage our condo. So this is the second time this has happened in 2-3 years.
Condo is valued at 325k and our buyer just walked away. We cannot list for sale again until roof is completely replaced and water remediation and dry wall repair is completed. We disclosed everything to our buyer and they stayed with us as long as possible but finally decided to walk away today. All wrong doing was do by the HOA board and management company for negligence and unqualified contractors completing poor work.
New roof was quoted at 50k Water remediation and drywall repair quoted at 20k
What legal action can my wife and I take against the HOA board and management company for clear negligence, damages, and because of that negligence the resulting sale of our condo falling through?

Sorry for the confusing title! Essentially I’m applying for a job with a studio I really want to work with. I have applied before and obviously didn’t get the job, but I was encouraged to keep an eye on their openings and apply again if I saw a role I was interested in. This is not the same role, but a very similar one.
I’m just looking for some advice regarding the cover letter. I don’t want to copy-paste parts of it bc I assume the same people will be reading it… but I also only have one story about being inspired when I saw the head of the studio talk at an animation summit.
Do I mention I’ve applied before? Is that stupid? Does that show continued interest and dedication, or does it just say ‘hey, remember how I wasn’t a good enough candidate before?
Any advice is welcome and very much appreciated, thank you.

As simple as the title says, really. Anyone have any advice for the above?
I'm in IT project management at a Fortune 500 in the EU, with about 5 YoE of IT service delivery/management. I'm a US citizen but have never worked stateside, having lived overseas my whole life. In my field (IT services) salaries are arguably 2-3x more what I can make here, so I have been thinking of a move stateside for a few years to make some money and save up before moving back to Europe. I've inquired with my employer about an internal transfer but unfortunately that is not an option + with a restructuring about to kick off, even if possible it probably wouldn't be a good idea.
I've been targeting LinkedIn postings asking for experience levels similar to or slightly above my profile, in the IT services (both agency and in-house) and consulting industries. Short yet concise CV (1 pager) and a targeted cover letter go out to most applications. I have a US number (esim), but unfortunately I do not have a US address as I do not have any family or friends there. I've made it clear on my resume that I am a citizen and do not require sponsorship + that I am happy to relocate. However, I'm getting next to no hits, while I am constantly being approached by recruiters in my local market right now. My current employer is one of the largest in its field and is also a household name in the US, so I was hoping my experience would carry some weight. Thus my question is how to make myself more appealing to US recruiters or employers beyond what I am already doing. My search is currently targeted mainly at the East Coast, mainly due for easy access to Europe. While we are at it, any suggestions at tax-friendly states with competitive job markets I may stand a chance in? Thank you!

Trying to make nice cover letter to go along with my application to LANL, never had a job before that needed one. Anyways, the posting list the recruiter but no idea who the hiring manager is. The FAQ and tips section says to address the cover letter to hiring committee, the HR generalist, or the hiring manager if listed in the job posting. I know in my current company the recruiter isn't the same as the HR generalist but would it be better to address the recruiter or just the anonymous hiring committee?

As simple as the title says, really. Anyone have any advice for the above?
I'm in IT project management at a Fortune 500 in the EU, with about 5 YoE of IT service delivery/management. I'm a US citizen but have never worked stateside, having lived overseas my whole life. In my field (IT services) salaries are arguably 2-3x more what I can make here, so I have been thinking of a move stateside for a few years to make some money and save up before moving back to Europe. I've inquired with my employer about an internal transfer but unfortunately that is not an option + with a restructuring about to kick off, even if possible it probably wouldn't be a good idea.
I've been targeting LinkedIn postings asking for experience levels similar to or slightly above my profile, in the IT services (both agency and in-house) and consulting industries. Short yet concise CV (1 pager) and a targeted cover letter go out to most applications. I have a US number (esim), but unfortunately I do not have a US address as I do not have any family or friends there. I've made it clear on my resume that I am a citizen and do not require sponsorship + that I am happy to relocate. However, I'm getting next to no hits, while I am constantly being approached by recruiters in my local market right now. My current employer is one of the largest in its field and is also a household name in the US, so I was hoping my experience would carry some weight. Thus my question is how to make myself more appealing to US recruiters or employers beyond what I am already doing. My search is currently targeted mainly at the East Coast, mainly due for easy access to Europe. While we are at it, any suggestions at tax-friendly states with competitive job markets I may stand a chance in? Thank you!

My friend was named the executor on her Grandmother's will, but never gave her the copy of the original will prior to her passing, and the attorney that was used to create the will has also now passed. The only thing that she has in her possession is a copy of the will with a cover letter, however, she's been denied by the circuit clerk to be able to file it. Her grandmother had dimentia, and did not provide any details on where she kept those documents or file it while she was still alive. Does anyone have any idea how she can move forward here? Also, this is in Illinois for added context.

My friend was named the executor on her Grandmother's will, but never gave her the copy of the original will prior to her passing, and the attorney that was used to create the will has also now passed. The only thing that she has in her possession is a copy of the will with a cover letter, however, she's been denied by the circuit clerk to be able to file it. Her grandmother had dimentia, and did not provide any details on where she kept those documents or file it while she was still alive. Does anyone have any idea how she can move forward here? Also, this is in Illinois for added context.

My friend was named the executor on her Grandmother's will, but never gave her the copy of the original will prior to her passing, and the attorney that was used to create the will has also now passed. The only thing that she has in her possession is a copy of the will with a cover letter, however, she's been denied by the circuit clerk to be able to file it. Her grandmother had dimentia, and did not provide any details on where she kept those documents or file it while she was still alive. Does anyone have any idea how she can move forward here? Also, this is in Illinois for added context.

I won't disclose its actual location, so if that's why you're here, sorry to disappoint. It's not time for that yet. However, I do think it's time to start getting the word out. I've noticed an increase in what I'll call "Antennas" lately, or people who can detect cross-planar phase shifts. Without getting into all the math (some of which I don't even know), this is basically a phenomenon which refers to entropy seeping into our universe from other realms or universes or whatever you want to call it. Simply put, people think our universe is a closed system to entropy, meaning that the disorder of any variable in our universe can only increase or decrease in direct proportion to other variables in that same system (the universe). Under this precept, we can establish rules like the Laws of Thermodynamics, and for most people, they're effective. But not for Antennas.
Put another way, if you throw a bunch of bouncy balls into a box, there are a number of different configurations that the balls could take on, with different speeds and magnitudes. You can calculate all of those if you have the right numbers. Now let's say you throw in another set of balls that you don't consider in your calculations of the initial set. Well, then you're not going to get an accurate picture of what's happening. Most people only see the first set and calculate based on that, but some people can see two, three, four or more sets.
You'll understand the concept better when I tell you the story, but I wanted to give you a primer on an important concept that will help you understand why this place, which I'll call "Area X", exists, and what the goals of the people who work there are.
Also note that I'm going to be using the alias "Trent" moving forward. Please refer to me as such in any direct messages.
***
Eighteen years ago I started working as an independent Home Inspector. I dropped out of community college after my first semester (not because I didn't find some of the subjects interesting, but because deference to a man or woman has never been my style) and started working some odd jobs. I did construction work for a couple years, then plumbing. I even drove a garbage truck for six months. I've always found pleasure in using my hands, and getting dirty was never a problem for me. Still, having a boss really dragged ass, so I spent my free time working on creating my own business. It took a few years and lots of savings, but I finally managed to get basic set of Home Inspection equipment: Tyvek coveralls, a cheap half-face respirator, voltage & AFCI/GFCI testers, CO2 and radon monitors, an IR camera, and telescoping mirrors in addition to the boots, safety glasses, electric gloves, ladder, and toolkits I already had on hand.
My buddy at the time was in the business, but he was moving off to the coast, so he helped me get set up and even introduced me to some of his clients. Of course, by that time I had already gotten my State license, but I still was a bit apprehensive to work with insurance agencies. I thought I could make a living working independently, inspecting for mold or sizing up a house for a prospective buyer. Eventually, though, I realized I should probably take every job available to me.
Easing into the business went about as well as it could have. The clients my friend referred to me were very satisfied with my work, and I was able to retain them. Then, in order to increase my reach, I hired someone on Fiverr to build a website for my company which led to a marked increase in traffic and conversions. About six months through, I began to get on a first-name basis with the boys and girls down down at Allstate and Progressive, and they fed me some of the bigger cases. In fact, I got so booked by year's end that I had to hire someone to help manage my schedule and the Excel spreadsheet with all my finances. I capped off a successful year with a 5-star Google rating and a trip to Ireland to visit some family and friends and get piss drunk. When I got back, it was the grindstone all over again, until the summer when I discovered… well, you'll see.
First off, I want to say that I was never one to believe in the paranormal. I grew up watching the movies and hearing the ghost stories round the campfire like every other kid, but it never struck a chord with me. If I can't touch it or see it or hear it, does it really exist? Probably not. So don't go thinking this was a scared man seeing his own shadow. That being said, I had this sense that something was off about this house when I parked along the curb and looked through a large window, perhaps two times the size of my van, to a dingy, dark foyer.
The entire neighborhood was stacked with upper-middle class domiciles, though it seemed like only two thirds of them were occupied, mostly by professionals who commuted to the City every weekday, and the rest were empty. As a man who understands real estate, to say this was strange would be an understatement. Still, I had no problem appraising the mini-mansion for a couple of newlyweds looking to enter the community. I did some research on the property ahead of time, and it seems that it was owned by a couple of old timers who had gone off the grid some time ago. The water and electric bill were both unpaid dating back to 2004 (it was June of '06 now). The bank had repo'd the house (which only had about 100k left on it) and held it for a year and a half before putting it back on the market. I tried to find out more about the old couple who vanished, but there was nothing in the news.
I stepped out of the van in my coveralls and grabbed my suitcase which had my mask, gloves, and eye protection in it. I liked to do a preliminary survey first, running an eye test on the exterior then interior before bringing out the big guns (that way I could identify the areas where I think there could be problems instead of running a metal detector over the whole damn ocean seaboard). I was about to do just that when the window caught my eye again. It felt uncharacteristic of me to be so occupied with this window, but I detoured to the front porch and peeked inside anyway.
Most of the furniture had already been moved out, meaning all that was left was a single three-seater couch, a couple candlesticks on the fireplace mantle, a pristine chandelier overtop a dining room table, and the kitchenware: an oven, gas stovetop, marble countertops, and an island. I could see into the living room very clearly with the afternoon light, but the dining room was dim enough that there were a few structures I couldn't quite make out in the distance. One of them appeared to be some kind of china cabinet or bookshelf—I figured it was the former considering where it was located. The other shadow looked kind of like a grandfather clock. Or at least that's what I thought until it moved.
When I say it "moved", I don't mean to say that it picked up and walked away. If you're not familiar with the Necker Cube, I suggest you search it up, because that kind of illusion is the best way to describe what I saw. At first I was seeing the grandfather clock in a certain way—pushed into the corner of the room—and the next second my vision "corrected" and it was maybe five feet to the left of its former position. I shook my head and looked again and saw the grandfather clock in its second orientation, standing in the center of the room against the wall. I figured I was just seeing things, but even so I spent a little extra time dawdling around the Egress window, taking notes, and delaying the interior inspection.
When I finally grew a pair and went inside, I walked straight to the dining room. Sure enough, the grandfather clock was stowed away in the corner of the room. I spent a couple minutes watching it with my pencil and travel notebook out. I'm the kind of guy that likes to collect hard data when the chips are down. Unfortunately, the clock apparently already had enough fun and was content with sweating me. Oh, well.
I fitted my pencil behind my ear and pocketed my travel notebook, then flipped the rest of the first floor lights on and completed my prelim. I concluded that everything was pretty standard. If anything, the house was in better shape than I'd expect considering it presumably hasn't been lived in for a couple years. I say "presumably" because one can never count out squatters, even during those times. Mainly I was expecting more dust build up and cobwebs than there were. Perhaps someone from the department had come by recently. It's unlikely, but possible.
I did the same check upstairs and it came back mostly clean. There was a bit of staining near the attic I wanted to check for mold. Based on its color, it was probably just a minor case of Aspergillus, but better safe than sorry. Then I got to the basement, and, well, let's just count out the idea of anyone dropping by. I don't know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn't what I found.
The first thing that caught my eye was the long, slender body of a birch tree lying pale and dead across a large portion of the even larger unfinished basement's cement flooring. I had to do a double take to make sure I wasn't dreaming, but, yep, there it was. Its crown was sealed up in the wall with only its trunk hanging out, which made me think of those medieval pillory devices which locked up people's heads and arms. Then confetti-scattered around the tree and all over the basement floor was a minefield of broken glass and ceramic tangled up with a set of random objects. And when I say random, I mean random. There was an unfurled Somali flag (the blue one with a single star in the center), some packaged drinks and condiments branded with all sorts of different languages (I could only make out Gaelic and Chinese or Japanese, I couldn't quite tell), a broken dome-shaped security camera, an otoscope (the thing the doc uses to check your ears), Hot Wheels cars (okay that one isn't so strange), and the list goes on.
At that moment, I wasn't freaked out or disgusted. I was more or less just confused. I started walking through the rubble, trying to avoid the sharp fragments but pretty confident that my steel toed boots would crush most the pieces anyway, when I heard a clink just up ahead. I was able to spot the coin in time, just before it jingled to a halt atop an old Life magazine. I picked it up and noted right away its oval shape and bronze color—clearly not American made. I tried reading it, but not only was the language not English, it appeared to be so old that most of the lettering had been filed down. I looked up at the ceiling to see if it dropped from a shelf, but there was nothing that could have been holding the coin. I considered for a moment, looking around at the other junk, and had the crazy idea that maybe all this stuff just appeared here. I popped the coin in my pocket and headed back to the van when I stopped by the tree and realized something. It wasn't a birch tree—it was a palm tree. I just didn't realize because of how ashy and decayed the bark was.
Now at this point you might think I've been acting a little nonchalant for such a strange occurrence, and I don't blame you, but if you're gonna stick around with me that's just something you're gonna have to get used to. I guess I was just born with a screw loose, but I really don't scare easily, and I tend to look at everything pragmatically. If you dig deep enough, you'll always find another plausible explanation. That being said, I do want to get to the part about Area X, so let me give you the rundown on what I learned about this basement.
I ended up trekking back to the van and picking up my gear. I was no longer running the routine inspection, obviously, but I figured I might as well throw 30 thousand dollars of scanning equipment at whatever the fuck anamoly existed in that basement. Most of it came back negative. There was a bit higher-than-usual EM interference as picked up on the voltmeters, but nothing that screamed danger close. Still, it was enough for me to set up my volt testers and IR camera while muddling through the rest of the junk. I won't bore you with another list of items, but I did find one thing of value: a diamond necklace. And not just any diamond necklace, it was one of those Queen-wearing, multi-row, big-jeweled necklaces like out of some Historical Fiction movie from the thirties. I almost didn't pocket it because I'm used to expensive items being owned by someone… someone who might want it back. But I figured if there was ever a place the finder's keeper's rule applied, it was probably in this Quantum graveyard.
7 O'clock rolled around and I hadn't eaten. I'm a pretty bulky guy, carrying my share of both muscle and fat, and most people think that means I need to eat a ton but that's really not the case. Mostly I just get dehydrated easily, especially in the summer. That said, I was bordering on famished territory and considered heading out for a bite when I heard another sound. The first thing I did was check my scanners, and sure enough the voltage needle was fully spun to the right side of the dial. EM interference. Then I went to see what had dropped. I was able to pick the object out pretty quickly since I had spent the last 6 hours staring at the mosaic of a basement floor. It was a silver briefcase, like one of those out of a crime novel, and it was cracked open.
I had this sense then that I was standing at a precipice, and if I opened the briefcase and looked inside, I wouldn't be able to stop whatever would come afterwards. Part of me deep down knew that I was just that type of guy that had to know, and maybe this was my Hamlet moment where it would be a trait gone a step too far. But then again I didn't really believe in any of that sentimental bullshit, so I opened the briefcase.
The gun surprised me a little, but not as much as the piece of paper laid atop a case file reading in large black font, "FIND ME". I expected the envelope to have some missing person file in it, but instead there were all these schematics and blueprints for some kind of device. Whatever it was, it was pretty massive. Some of the lengths were hundreds of meters long. And what's more strange is based on the blueprint's locale, it appeared to be underground. I looked back through the pages a couple times, then checked the note—nothing strange there. The gun appeared to be a simple glock. I was no gun expert, but I had been to the range pretty regularly with my construction buddies, so I got used to the feel of a pistol and rifle and some of the different names; however, I realized pretty quickly it wasn't your standard glock when I couldn't find mag-release. That's when I noticed how light the gun felt. I tried to chamber a round, but again, there was no hammer. What the hell kind of gun was this?
I ended up throwing everything back in the briefcase, including the necklace, coin, and a few Koozies I found that were branded with one of my favorite sports teams (never let an opportunity go to waste). I put up all my shit back in the van and spun over to a local burger joint, got my fill, and went home. I made sure to draft an email to the prospective buyers, telling them the house had several patches of black mold and a bit of a rat problem before drifting off to sleep. Although I really didn't do much of that.
When I woke up, I took a cold shower and downed a can of Reign, then commuted to my gym and got a lift and some sauna time in before making the trip back to the house. I brought some extra supplies with me for some experiments I cooked up while not sleeping the previous night.
First, I had two camcorders set up on a couple tripods in either corner of the basement. I wanted clear footage of these mystery objects spawning in. Then I set up a voltmeter in a similar fashion, but I had a wire extending out of it on a circuit which fed to an alarm that would blare when the reading was over 250 volts. Upstairs, I rearranged some of the furniture so that the small number of tables, chairs, clock, cabinets, and other little pillows or vases I could find were scattered across the living room, dining room, and kitchen. Then I pulled up a lawn chair to the front porch window and waited.
I didn't have to wait long though. In about a minute, I started to notice some of the objects moving. It was strange. When a few of them would shift simultaneously, it was like looking at a holographic card that would change shape depending on where your eyes were in relation to the image. Every time I saw a shift, I felt an awkward feeling in my eyes. They went blurry for a fraction of a second, then there was a twinge of pain, as if my brain couldn't handle the contradictory stimulus. It didn't get more crazy than that though—until the alarm went off.
I had cracked open the small rectangular window in the basement to the side of the house so I would hear it. It took four hours and several strange stares from passersby walking their dogs before it rang, so I was a bit lost in my thoughts, but when I heard the beep I perked up fast. It lasted for maybe 5 seconds total, but what I saw was truly miraculous. The best way I can describe it is a pool of silver or gray or translucent light emerging in the foreground between me and the objects in the different rooms. A series of twisting tentacles sprouted from the gray octopus-like head and spun in a way that reminded me of that little kids ride at the amusement parks. Then the objects started to "heat up" is the way I describe it. Their position became relative, meaning they were here one second, there another, then they popped out of existence entirely. Suddenly the rooms were all empty, then they were full of things I had never seen before. Then five seconds passed and the octopus vanished and it was back to the same old objects in their usual places.
It took a few minutes to process what I saw, and even then I wasn't sure I really saw it. I went inside and looked around at my distribution of the house's furnishings. They were all there, intact. Then I went downstairs to check the cams. I rewinded a couple minutes and played it back, but there was no flying object to be found. Instead, there was some gray static that lasted half a second and then the object, a kid's treasure chest toy, was there on the ground. But you want to know the really strange part? I rewinded the tape again, and when I watched the footage back, the treasure chest was always there.
I later came to understand that these poppings in-and-out of our reality are only conceivable to a conscious mind that can track the interference patterns—not rote computational instruments. In fact, even most people can't do it (although everyone has at least a slight awareness of it, even if only subconsciously). Plus, locations like the basement of this house are very rare and kept under tight lock. That became obvious to me two days later when, after my normal morning routine, I pulled up to a driveway and curbside filled with unmarked government vehicles. Either bravely or stupidly, I pulled up to a few officers (they were wearing suits in 85 degree weather, so I assumed…) who were idling by the large fence of crime scene tape and asked them what the score was.
"There was a crime," said the short man with a unibrow.
"Oh, is that right? Damn shame. Someone break in? I have a niece who lives nearby, so…"
The man looked at his two compatriots, both of whom were wearing sunglasses and a "get this civilian fuck out of here" expressions. "Oh, yeah," he started in a reassuring tone that was so condescending it would have annoyed anyone except me, "we found a body. We think it was a homicide. Best to keep your kids away from here for a while."
I thumbed the stubble on my chin, my other hand outstretched on the wheel, and considered moving on, but my mouth had other ideas. "That right? But uh, isn't this house vacant? I mean, I don't remember no one living in it."
The short man, now tall with temper, said, "Yeah, some squatters. We think there was a dispute over some drug money. Nothing for you to worry about though, we got it under control. Now if you wouldn't mind moving along, we have a lot of work to do."
Oh, I'm sure you do, I thought, but only said, "Of course, sir, sorry for keeping you from your job." Then I rolled up the window and cruised on, keeping my eyes on the house which slowly diminished in the side-view mirror.
Luckily I had been smart enough to break down my camp and lug home all my equipment each night, so I didn't leave anything incriminating. I didn't move the furniture back, so maybe that would come back to haunt me, but considering the kind of shit going down in that house, I didn't think they would notice.
For any of you wondering about the conclusion of the house story, I went back a couple weeks later after the suits had left and the tape was taken down and confirmed that not only was the basement entirely cleaned out, but it was no longer exhibiting any strange properties. I looked for a story related to the house, maybe a made up murder of some kind, but there was nothing. That bastard lied to me and didn't even bother to cover his story up.
Now, in the aftermath of an event such as this, I really only had one of two options. I could forget it, move on, continue living life. The necklace was surely worth a fortune. I could sell it and have enough to retire, or at least hire enough people and expand my business large enough to retire within ten or so years. Or I could take all that money and invest it in my own PI business with only a single objective: finding out what those people knew, and why they were hiding it.
I think you know me well enough by now to guess which line of reasoning appealed more to me.
***
For the sake of brevity, I'm going to omit most of my encounters along the journey to discovering Area X. There's a lot to tell, and if it appeals to you perhaps I'd be willing to share at a later date, but for now I want to get this part of the story, the more proximal part, out in the open.
Three years ago, I discovered the source of what I'll call "The Receiver". This is the device that was schematized in the documents that I found in the briefcase. What it does is a complex answer, and how it does it is pretty much all speculation, but here's what I've been able to find out: this universe we live in is a node in a network of many other spaces. These spaces exist in higher dimensions that we cannot directly perceive, but using a conceivable analogy, just think about a flower with petals. The petals are these other dimensions which bleed into our world, which is at the center. However, it's not that pretty. We see the physical world through the lens of spacetime: sizes, speeds, etc. These other dimensions don't necessarily have space or time. In fact, what actually exists there, I couldn't say. The only data I have on them is from two sources: correspondence information and server data from the secret agency (which I'll call "the Organization") that keeps this under wraps, and first-hand experience with realms from these other entities, either directly (I experience it) or through the eyes of someone else with the same or greater abilities than I possess.
I referred to these people with abilities earlier as "Antennas", and I will continue to use the term. Antennas really come in three flavors, marked by the strength of their ability: weak Antennas, like me, are able to observe spontaneous interactions between our universe and other dimensions (phase shifts) when there is a strong force of collision like existed in the basement; moderate Antennas may see phase shifts occur at any point, and they usually are able to retain memories from across the different transformations; strong Antennas, and I don't know if they exist yet, but they are able to consciously interact with these other realms and cause phase shifts to occur.
I mentioned that moderate Antennas are able to retain memories from before and after a phase shift. Technically, all Antennas have this ability, but it's about degree. I can recall only very specific instances and without much detail. Moderates are usually able to pick out much more nuanced minutiae. At the lower end of moderate scale, most of those details fade or get fuzzy over time, but for the very strong Antennas, they hold onto almost everything. One other property that scales with strength is interaction with other conscious entities. Only a small percentage of moderates are able to do this. What's interesting is that these entities can possess (yes, like ghosts) people who aren't even antennas, but no one is aware of such possession at this deep of a level. I have several companions now, and only two have had interactions with these otherworldly beings. Not all of them are malevolent, some of them are whimsical or kind, but there are a fair share of demons out there.
Getting back to the point, Area X started as a government funded project in the 70's. At that time, they were focused on a few subjects: Artificial Intelligence, DNA sequencing, and psychedelics. Yes, they were part of the infamous LSD experiments. But they looked at these subjects through a common lens—there was something that the burgeoning tech industry, fueled by the advent of a commercial computer market, was missing. As the tech giants rose in the early 2000's and began to collect mass amounts of data, this other agency was decades ahead in a different metric, although it was completely (and still is) hidden from the public. Their efforts to understand psychedelic experiences led to a formalized method of understanding interactions between multiple realities. They built certain scanning equipment to detect anomalies like the one I found in the basement; although their tools were much more sophisticated and didn't utilize voltage readings. Then they ran tests in these areas. One area in particular is a hot-bed of phase shift interactions. That's where Area X is located (and the Receiver).
The Receiver is a giant electromagnetic orb that has trapped the kind of multi-dimensional energy that causes the phase shifts; since the Organization seized control of the lab, it's effectively become a map of the Earth in relation to these other worlds. For the past twenty or so years, the Organization has been studying this map, using the data big Tech companies have collected to essentially develop a Rosetta Stone for interpreting the meaning of the fluctuations in their scanning equipment. Recently, the public, though going the long way round, was actually pretty close to a breakthrough in this same department until recently when ultra-powerful LLMs surfaced, and the whole world began going down what I'd argue is the wrong rabbit hole of language processing. But I digress.
Area X is essentially a private military base built for defending the most impactful piece of technology ever invented. With the Receiver, the Organization now has the power to essentially predict any and all future outcomes, the only thing holding them back is the limitations of their own scanning equipment which will get better with time. To put it into perspective, the Organization has access to a kind of data allocation tool which in one day can produce over ten thousand times that the Big Data companies combined would be able to filter through in the next decade. You might think, then, that the problem is merely asymmetric power, and that is certainly a concern, but it isn't the main concern. The main issue is that this organization is actively recruiting (and kidnapping) Antennas from around the world in an effort to find or make one of them into a strong Antenna. In other words, they want a subject who is able not only to see the future, but to manipulate it at will.
balance to the world. I've been working on amassing resources, capital, and building my own team, and now I'm ready. You might ask why I'm posting this here. Wouldn't it be better to keep all this secret? Well, yes, it would be. But that's the problem. Nothing is secret anymore. They know about me and the others, and if I don't make a move, they will. In a way, this is a letter directly to the organization that I know, and I'm coming.
In a different way, I wanted to release this information to the public. There are lots of people out there waking up and realizing that the world they experience is not the one others experience. If you think you might be an Antenna, don't be afraid—you have a special gift that can be controlled. If you want more details on how to control it, or if you're interested in my mission, don't be afraid to reach out. This hasn't always been my life's work, but it is now.
At least until I die.

Im so tired and angry and im sick of people telling me "everything will work out" when they dont know shit.
Six months ago i sent all my paperwork and letters of recommendation and everything else needed for insurance to cover top sirgery. Hospital said theyd take care of it. I pestered them for months if they heard any updates, they said no.
Three weeks before surgery the surgeon tells me that one of my letters isnt valid for insurance because it has to be from a psychiatrist specifically, not a licensed social worker with a literal fucking doctorate. I scrambled to get a letter and got one and submitted it over a week ago, miraculously.
Ive been pretty much nonstop calling and messaging both the hospital and insurance to find out ANYTHING, but they wont even give me an out of pocket estimate. Half the time I'm sent to voicemail and never get called back. Ive called so many different departments in the hospital, i was on the phone for an hour and a half today. The hospitals always doing the regular bullshit of saying to call insurance, who says to call the hospital.
I don't know what to do anymore. I have ZERO idea how many thousands of dollars I am about to be paying.

I won't disclose its actual location, so if that's why you're here, sorry to disappoint. It's not time for that yet. However, I do think it's time to start getting the word out. I've noticed an increase in what I'll call "Antennas" lately, or people who can detect cross-planar phase shifts. Without getting into all the math (some of which I don't even know), this is basically a phenomenon which refers to entropy seeping into our universe from other realms or universes or whatever you want to call it. Simply put, people think our universe is a closed system to entropy, meaning that the disorder of any variable in our universe can only increase or decrease in direct proportion to other variables in that same system (the universe). Under this precept, we can establish rules like the Laws of Thermodynamics, and for most people, they're effective. But not for Antennas.
Put another way, if you throw a bunch of bouncy balls into a box, there are a number of different configurations that the balls could take on, with different speeds and magnitudes. You can calculate all of those if you have the right numbers. Now let's say you throw in another set of balls that you don't consider in your calculations of the initial set. Well, then you're not going to get an accurate picture of what's happening. Most people only see the first set and calculate based on that, but some people can see two, three, four or more sets.
You'll understand the concept better when I tell you the story, but I wanted to give you a primer on an important concept that will help you understand why this place, which I'll call "Area X", exists, and what the goals of the people who work there are.
Also note that I'm going to be using the alias "Trent" moving forward. Please refer to me as such in any direct messages.
***
Eighteen years ago I started working as an independent Home Inspector. I dropped out of community college after my first semester (not because I didn't find some of the subjects interesting, but because deference to a man or woman has never been my style) and started working some odd jobs. I did construction work for a couple years, then plumbing. I even drove a garbage truck for six months. I've always found pleasure in using my hands, and getting dirty was never a problem for me. Still, having a boss really dragged ass, so I spent my free time working on creating my own business. It took a few years and lots of savings, but I finally managed to get basic set of Home Inspection equipment: Tyvek coveralls, a cheap half-face respirator, voltage & AFCI/GFCI testers, CO2 and radon monitors, an IR camera, and telescoping mirrors in addition to the boots, safety glasses, electric gloves, ladder, and toolkits I already had on hand.
My buddy at the time was in the business, but he was moving off to the coast, so he helped me get set up and even introduced me to some of his clients. Of course, by that time I had already gotten my State license, but I still was a bit apprehensive to work with insurance agencies. I thought I could make a living working independently, inspecting for mold or sizing up a house for a prospective buyer. Eventually, though, I realized I should probably take every job available to me.
Easing into the business went about as well as it could have. The clients my friend referred to me were very satisfied with my work, and I was able to retain them. Then, in order to increase my reach, I hired someone on Fiverr to build a website for my company which led to a marked increase in traffic and conversions. About six months through, I began to get on a first-name basis with the boys and girls down down at Allstate and Progressive, and they fed me some of the bigger cases. In fact, I got so booked by year's end that I had to hire someone to help manage my schedule and the Excel spreadsheet with all my finances. I capped off a successful year with a 5-star Google rating and a trip to Ireland to visit some family and friends and get piss drunk. When I got back, it was the grindstone all over again, until the summer when I discovered… well, you'll see.
First off, I want to say that I was never one to believe in the paranormal. I grew up watching the movies and hearing the ghost stories round the campfire like every other kid, but it never struck a chord with me. If I can't touch it or see it or hear it, does it really exist? Probably not. So don't go thinking this was a scared man seeing his own shadow. That being said, I had this sense that something was off about this house when I parked along the curb and looked through a large window, perhaps two times the size of my van, to a dingy, dark foyer.
The entire neighborhood was stacked with upper-middle class domiciles, though it seemed like only two thirds of them were occupied, mostly by professionals who commuted to the City every weekday, and the rest were empty. As a man who understands real estate, to say this was strange would be an understatement. Still, I had no problem appraising the mini-mansion for a couple of newlyweds looking to enter the community. I did some research on the property ahead of time, and it seems that it was owned by a couple of old timers who had gone off the grid some time ago. The water and electric bill were both unpaid dating back to 2004 (it was June of '06 now). The bank had repo'd the house (which only had about 100k left on it) and held it for a year and a half before putting it back on the market. I tried to find out more about the old couple who vanished, but there was nothing in the news.
I stepped out of the van in my coveralls and grabbed my suitcase which had my mask, gloves, and eye protection in it. I liked to do a preliminary survey first, running an eye test on the exterior then interior before bringing out the big guns (that way I could identify the areas where I think there could be problems instead of running a metal detector over the whole damn ocean seaboard). I was about to do just that when the window caught my eye again. It felt uncharacteristic of me to be so occupied with this window, but I detoured to the front porch and peeked inside anyway.
Most of the furniture had already been moved out, meaning all that was left was a single three-seater couch, a couple candlesticks on the fireplace mantle, a pristine chandelier overtop a dining room table, and the kitchenware: an oven, gas stovetop, marble countertops, and an island. I could see into the living room very clearly with the afternoon light, but the dining room was dim enough that there were a few structures I couldn't quite make out in the distance. One of them appeared to be some kind of china cabinet or bookshelf—I figured it was the former considering where it was located. The other shadow looked kind of like a grandfather clock. Or at least that's what I thought until it moved.
When I say it "moved", I don't mean to say that it picked up and walked away. If you're not familiar with the Necker Cube, I suggest you search it up, because that kind of illusion is the best way to describe what I saw. At first I was seeing the grandfather clock in a certain way—pushed into the corner of the room—and the next second my vision "corrected" and it was maybe five feet to the left of its former position. I shook my head and looked again and saw the grandfather clock in its second orientation, standing in the center of the room against the wall. I figured I was just seeing things, but even so I spent a little extra time dawdling around the Egress window, taking notes, and delaying the interior inspection.
When I finally grew a pair and went inside, I walked straight to the dining room. Sure enough, the grandfather clock was stowed away in the corner of the room. I spent a couple minutes watching it with my pencil and travel notebook out. I'm the kind of guy that likes to collect hard data when the chips are down. Unfortunately, the clock apparently already had enough fun and was content with sweating me. Oh, well.
I fitted my pencil behind my ear and pocketed my travel notebook, then flipped the rest of the first floor lights on and completed my prelim. I concluded that everything was pretty standard. If anything, the house was in better shape than I'd expect considering it presumably hasn't been lived in for a couple years. I say "presumably" because one can never count out squatters, even during those times. Mainly I was expecting more dust build up and cobwebs than there were. Perhaps someone from the department had come by recently. It's unlikely, but possible.
I did the same check upstairs and it came back mostly clean. There was a bit of staining near the attic I wanted to check for mold. Based on its color, it was probably just a minor case of Aspergillus, but better safe than sorry. Then I got to the basement, and, well, let's just count out the idea of anyone dropping by. I don't know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn't what I found.
The first thing that caught my eye was the long, slender body of a birch tree lying pale and dead across a large portion of the even larger unfinished basement's cement flooring. I had to do a double take to make sure I wasn't dreaming, but, yep, there it was. Its crown was sealed up in the wall with only its trunk hanging out, which made me think of those medieval pillory devices which locked up people's heads and arms. Then confetti-scattered around the tree and all over the basement floor was a minefield of broken glass and ceramic tangled up with a set of random objects. And when I say random, I mean random. There was an unfurled Somali flag (the blue one with a single star in the center), some packaged drinks and condiments branded with all sorts of different languages (I could only make out Gaelic and Chinese or Japanese, I couldn't quite tell), a broken dome-shaped security camera, an otoscope (the thing the doc uses to check your ears), Hot Wheels cars (okay that one isn't so strange), and the list goes on.
At that moment, I wasn't freaked out or disgusted. I was more or less just confused. I started walking through the rubble, trying to avoid the sharp fragments but pretty confident that my steel toed boots would crush most the pieces anyway, when I heard a clink just up ahead. I was able to spot the coin in time, just before it jingled to a halt atop an old Life magazine. I picked it up and noted right away its oval shape and bronze color—clearly not American made. I tried reading it, but not only was the language not English, it appeared to be so old that most of the lettering had been filed down. I looked up at the ceiling to see if it dropped from a shelf, but there was nothing that could have been holding the coin. I considered for a moment, looking around at the other junk, and had the crazy idea that maybe all this stuff just appeared here. I popped the coin in my pocket and headed back to the van when I stopped by the tree and realized something. It wasn't a birch tree—it was a palm tree. I just didn't realize because of how ashy and decayed the bark was.
Now at this point you might think I've been acting a little nonchalant for such a strange occurrence, and I don't blame you, but if you're gonna stick around with me that's just something you're gonna have to get used to. I guess I was just born with a screw loose, but I really don't scare easily, and I tend to look at everything pragmatically. If you dig deep enough, you'll always find another plausible explanation. That being said, I do want to get to the part about Area X, so let me give you the rundown on what I learned about this basement.
I ended up trekking back to the van and picking up my gear. I was no longer running the routine inspection, obviously, but I figured I might as well throw 30 thousand dollars of scanning equipment at whatever the fuck anamoly existed in that basement. Most of it came back negative. There was a bit higher-than-usual EM interference as picked up on the voltmeters, but nothing that screamed danger close. Still, it was enough for me to set up my volt testers and IR camera while muddling through the rest of the junk. I won't bore you with another list of items, but I did find one thing of value: a diamond necklace. And not just any diamond necklace, it was one of those Queen-wearing, multi-row, big-jeweled necklaces like out of some Historical Fiction movie from the thirties. I almost didn't pocket it because I'm used to expensive items being owned by someone… someone who might want it back. But I figured if there was ever a place the finder's keeper's rule applied, it was probably in this Quantum graveyard.
7 O'clock rolled around and I hadn't eaten. I'm a pretty bulky guy, carrying my share of both muscle and fat, and most people think that means I need to eat a ton but that's really not the case. Mostly I just get dehydrated easily, especially in the summer. That said, I was bordering on famished territory and considered heading out for a bite when I heard another sound. The first thing I did was check my scanners, and sure enough the voltage needle was fully spun to the right side of the dial. EM interference. Then I went to see what had dropped. I was able to pick the object out pretty quickly since I had spent the last 6 hours staring at the mosaic of a basement floor. It was a silver briefcase, like one of those out of a crime novel, and it was cracked open.
I had this sense then that I was standing at a precipice, and if I opened the briefcase and looked inside, I wouldn't be able to stop whatever would come afterwards. Part of me deep down knew that I was just that type of guy that had to know, and maybe this was my Hamlet moment where it would be a trait gone a step too far. But then again I didn't really believe in any of that sentimental bullshit, so I opened the briefcase.
The gun surprised me a little, but not as much as the piece of paper laid atop a case file reading in large black font, "FIND ME". I expected the envelope to have some missing person file in it, but instead there were all these schematics and blueprints for some kind of device. Whatever it was, it was pretty massive. Some of the lengths were hundreds of meters long. And what's more strange is based on the blueprint's locale, it appeared to be underground. I looked back through the pages a couple times, then checked the note—nothing strange there. The gun appeared to be a simple glock. I was no gun expert, but I had been to the range pretty regularly with my construction buddies, so I got used to the feel of a pistol and rifle and some of the different names; however, I realized pretty quickly it wasn't your standard glock when I couldn't find mag-release. That's when I noticed how light the gun felt. I tried to chamber a round, but again, there was no hammer. What the hell kind of gun was this?
I ended up throwing everything back in the briefcase, including the necklace, coin, and a few Koozies I found that were branded with one of my favorite sports teams (never let an opportunity go to waste). I put up all my shit back in the van and spun over to a local burger joint, got my fill, and went home. I made sure to draft an email to the prospective buyers, telling them the house had several patches of black mold and a bit of a rat problem before drifting off to sleep. Although I really didn't do much of that.
When I woke up, I took a cold shower and downed a can of Reign, then commuted to my gym and got a lift and some sauna time in before making the trip back to the house. I brought some extra supplies with me for some experiments I cooked up while not sleeping the previous night.
First, I had two camcorders set up on a couple tripods in either corner of the basement. I wanted clear footage of these mystery objects spawning in. Then I set up a voltmeter in a similar fashion, but I had a wire extending out of it on a circuit which fed to an alarm that would blare when the reading was over 250 volts. Upstairs, I rearranged some of the furniture so that the small number of tables, chairs, clock, cabinets, and other little pillows or vases I could find were scattered across the living room, dining room, and kitchen. Then I pulled up a lawn chair to the front porch window and waited.
I didn't have to wait long though. In about a minute, I started to notice some of the objects moving. It was strange. When a few of them would shift simultaneously, it was like looking at a holographic card that would change shape depending on where your eyes were in relation to the image. Every time I saw a shift, I felt an awkward feeling in my eyes. They went blurry for a fraction of a second, then there was a twinge of pain, as if my brain couldn't handle the contradictory stimulus. It didn't get more crazy than that though—until the alarm went off.
I had cracked open the small rectangular window in the basement to the side of the house so I would hear it. It took four hours and several strange stares from passersby walking their dogs before it rang, so I was a bit lost in my thoughts, but when I heard the beep I perked up fast. It lasted for maybe 5 seconds total, but what I saw was truly miraculous. The best way I can describe it is a pool of silver or gray or translucent light emerging in the foreground between me and the objects in the different rooms. A series of twisting tentacles sprouted from the gray octopus-like head and spun in a way that reminded me of that little kids ride at the amusement parks. Then the objects started to "heat up" is the way I describe it. Their position became relative, meaning they were here one second, there another, then they popped out of existence entirely. Suddenly the rooms were all empty, then they were full of things I had never seen before. Then five seconds passed and the octopus vanished and it was back to the same old objects in their usual places.
It took a few minutes to process what I saw, and even then I wasn't sure I really saw it. I went inside and looked around at my distribution of the house's furnishings. They were all there, intact. Then I went downstairs to check the cams. I rewinded a couple minutes and played it back, but there was no flying object to be found. Instead, there was some gray static that lasted half a second and then the object, a kid's treasure chest toy, was there on the ground. But you want to know the really strange part? I rewinded the tape again, and when I watched the footage back, the treasure chest was always there.
I later came to understand that these poppings in-and-out of our reality are only conceivable to a conscious mind that can track the interference patterns—not rote computational instruments. In fact, even most people can't do it (although everyone has at least a slight awareness of it, even if only subconsciously). Plus, locations like the basement of this house are very rare and kept under tight lock. That became obvious to me two days later when, after my normal morning routine, I pulled up to a driveway and curbside filled with unmarked government vehicles. Either bravely or stupidly, I pulled up to a few officers (they were wearing suits in 85 degree weather, so I assumed…) who were idling by the large fence of crime scene tape and asked them what the score was.
"There was a crime," said the short man with a unibrow.
"Oh, is that right? Damn shame. Someone break in? I have a niece who lives nearby, so…"
The man looked at his two compatriots, both of whom were wearing sunglasses and a "get this civilian fuck out of here" expressions. "Oh, yeah," he started in a reassuring tone that was so condescending it would have annoyed anyone except me, "we found a body. We think it was a homicide. Best to keep your kids away from here for a while."
I thumbed the stubble on my chin, my other hand outstretched on the wheel, and considered moving on, but my mouth had other ideas. "That right? But uh, isn't this house vacant? I mean, I don't remember no one living in it."
The short man, now tall with temper, said, "Yeah, some squatters. We think there was a dispute over some drug money. Nothing for you to worry about though, we got it under control. Now if you wouldn't mind moving along, we have a lot of work to do."
Oh, I'm sure you do, I thought, but only said, "Of course, sir, sorry for keeping you from your job." Then I rolled up the window and cruised on, keeping my eyes on the house which slowly diminished in the side-view mirror.
Luckily I had been smart enough to break down my camp and lug home all my equipment each night, so I didn't leave anything incriminating. I didn't move the furniture back, so maybe that would come back to haunt me, but considering the kind of shit going down in that house, I didn't think they would notice.
For any of you wondering about the conclusion of the house story, I went back a couple weeks later after the suits had left and the tape was taken down and confirmed that not only was the basement entirely cleaned out, but it was no longer exhibiting any strange properties. I looked for a story related to the house, maybe a made up murder of some kind, but there was nothing. That bastard lied to me and didn't even bother to cover his story up.
Now, in the aftermath of an event such as this, I really only had one of two options. I could forget it, move on, continue living life. The necklace was surely worth a fortune. I could sell it and have enough to retire, or at least hire enough people and expand my business large enough to retire within ten or so years. Or I could take all that money and invest it in my own PI business with only a single objective: finding out what those people knew, and why they were hiding it.
I think you know me well enough by now to guess which line of reasoning appealed more to me.
***
For the sake of brevity, I'm going to omit most of my encounters along the journey to discovering Area X. There's a lot to tell, and if it appeals to you perhaps I'd be willing to share at a later date, but for now I want to get this part of the story, the more proximal part, out in the open.
Three years ago, I discovered the source of what I'll call "The Receiver". This is the device that was schematized in the documents that I found in the briefcase. What it does is a complex answer, and how it does it is pretty much all speculation, but here's what I've been able to find out: this universe we live in is a node in a network of many other spaces. These spaces exist in higher dimensions that we cannot directly perceive, but using a conceivable analogy, just think about a flower with petals. The petals are these other dimensions which bleed into our world, which is at the center. However, it's not that pretty. We see the physical world through the lens of spacetime: sizes, speeds, etc. These other dimensions don't necessarily have space or time. In fact, what actually exists there, I couldn't say. The only data I have on them is from two sources: correspondence information and server data from the secret agency (which I'll call "the Organization") that keeps this under wraps, and first-hand experience with realms from these other entities, either directly (I experience it) or through the eyes of someone else with the same or greater abilities than I possess.
I referred to these people with abilities earlier as "Antennas", and I will continue to use the term. Antennas really come in three flavors, marked by the strength of their ability: weak Antennas, like me, are able to observe spontaneous interactions between our universe and other dimensions (phase shifts) when there is a strong force of collision like existed in the basement; moderate Antennas may see phase shifts occur at any point, and they usually are able to retain memories from across the different transformations; strong Antennas, and I don't know if they exist yet, but they are able to consciously interact with these other realms and cause phase shifts to occur.
I mentioned that moderate Antennas are able to retain memories from before and after a phase shift. Technically, all Antennas have this ability, but it's about degree. I can recall only very specific instances and without much detail. Moderates are usually able to pick out much more nuanced minutiae. At the lower end of moderate scale, most of those details fade or get fuzzy over time, but for the very strong Antennas, they hold onto almost everything. One other property that scales with strength is interaction with other conscious entities. Only a small percentage of moderates are able to do this. What's interesting is that these entities can possess (yes, like ghosts) people who aren't even antennas, but no one is aware of such possession at this deep of a level. I have several companions now, and only two have had interactions with these otherworldly beings. Not all of them are malevolent, some of them are whimsical or kind, but there are a fair share of demons out there.
Getting back to the point, Area X started as a government funded project in the 70's. At that time, they were focused on a few subjects: Artificial Intelligence, DNA sequencing, and psychedelics. Yes, they were part of the infamous LSD experiments. But they looked at these subjects through a common lens—there was something that the burgeoning tech industry, fueled by the advent of a commercial computer market, was missing. As the tech giants rose in the early 2000's and began to collect mass amounts of data, this other agency was decades ahead in a different metric, although it was completely (and still is) hidden from the public. Their efforts to understand psychedelic experiences led to a formalized method of understanding interactions between multiple realities. They built certain scanning equipment to detect anomalies like the one I found in the basement; although their tools were much more sophisticated and didn't utilize voltage readings. Then they ran tests in these areas. One area in particular is a hot-bed of phase shift interactions. That's where Area X is located (and the Receiver).
The Receiver is a giant electromagnetic orb that has trapped the kind of multi-dimensional energy that causes the phase shifts; since the Organization seized control of the lab, it's effectively become a map of the Earth in relation to these other worlds. For the past twenty or so years, the Organization has been studying this map, using the data big Tech companies have collected to essentially develop a Rosetta Stone for interpreting the meaning of the fluctuations in their scanning equipment. Recently, the public, though going the long way round, was actually pretty close to a breakthrough in this same department until recently when ultra-powerful LLMs surfaced, and the whole world began going down what I'd argue is the wrong rabbit hole of language processing. But I digress.
Area X is essentially a private military base built for defending the most impactful piece of technology ever invented. With the Receiver, the Organization now has the power to essentially predict any and all future outcomes, the only thing holding them back is the limitations of their own scanning equipment which will get better with time. To put it into perspective, the Organization has access to a kind of data allocation tool which in one day can produce over ten thousand times that the Big Data companies combined would be able to filter through in the next decade. You might think, then, that the problem is merely asymmetric power, and that is certainly a concern, but it isn't the main concern. The main issue is that this organization is actively recruiting (and kidnapping) Antennas from around the world in an effort to find or make one of them into a strong Antenna. In other words, they want a subject who is able not only to see the future, but to manipulate it at will.
balance to the world. I've been working on amassing resources, capital, and building my own team, and now I'm ready. You might ask why I'm posting this here. Wouldn't it be better to keep all this secret? Well, yes, it would be. But that's the problem. Nothing is secret anymore. They know about me and the others, and if I don't make a move, they will. In a way, this is a letter directly to the organization that I know, and I'm coming.
In a different way, I wanted to release this information to the public. There are lots of people out there waking up and realizing that the world they experience is not the one others experience. If you think you might be an Antenna, don't be afraid—you have a special gift that can be controlled. If you want more details on how to control it, or if you're interested in my mission, don't be afraid to reach out. This hasn't always been my life's work, but it is now.
At least until I die.

Sharing for awareness here. If I am late to the game sharing this process please disregard. I've seen a lot of people posting lately RE court order issues for NYS and want to share my experience. Many insisting a court order is required for any request, period.
I was recently able to obtain vital records for ancestors outside of NYC without a court order. Records were held by two different jurisdictions.
I called both clerks directly and advised of my situation. They instructed to do the following:
Submit their jurisdictions standard mail-in request form with supporting documents. Include the JS requirements documentation from the consulate. Include a cover letter indicating my reason for certfied copies, citing the specific category in which I was applying.
Both requests processed without issue and records received in less than 3 weeks. No court order needed.

• Sony Music Group has sent letters to over 700 tech companies and music streaming services warning them not to use its content to train AI without permission.
  
• The company is concerned about unauthorized use of its content depriving it and its artists of control and compensation.
  
• Sony Music is safeguarding its intellectual property, which includes audio recordings, cover artwork, metadata, and lyrics.
  
• The letter asks recipients to provide details on how Sony Music's songs were used to train AI systems.
  
• Recent legislative efforts aim to address copyright infringement issues related to AI-generated content.
  

Source: https://techcrunch.com/2024/05/16/sony-music-warns-tech-companies-over-unauthorized-use-of-its-content-to-train-ai/

Hi everyone! I need some advice on how to deal with an unusual situation.
I signed up for a new insurance company (SF). After paying for the new plan I noticed the effective dates were incorrect and not what i had initially chosen. They were 1 day after my previous insurance coverage was going to end. I chose previous day start so they would OVERLAP but this option in the online date calendar did not stick.
Immediately I call my local agent for the first time. I said id like to keep what i have chosen and choose those same options but change start date. She insists we start a new plan and go over my coverage. I reluctantly agree only because after all she is helping me correct an error that occurred with the start date.
She goes to review my plan options. Then says something i dont even want to repeat word for word... She described several awful scenarios in attempts to guilt me into accepting the options she wanted me to have. I felt her tone with me was extremely inappropriate. I SHOULD HAVE ended the conversation there. At this point i felt shamed and pressured. I explain that im trying to keep it around a certain price while still retaining good coverage. We agreed on a lower deductible and more benefits as long as my budget is taken into consideration. I dont need or want the funeral benefits, or any of the other stuff she finessed me into getting. In the moment i told myself ill just deal with it if the price is OK to me.
I was thankful she was helping me correct the start date so didnt want to argue. I agreed to the changes and all felt okay. She did mention several times "i shouldnt be doing it this way but i want to help you" which i didnt understand and struck me as odd. I told her i really appreciated her help. She then asked for me to leave her a google review which i agreed to. I was waiting till this all settled... i never did it after what happens next. We end the call on a good note and said shes reach out to me with updates.
After WEEKS its been radio silence. I try calling the office and cannot get a live person. I stopped after several attempts and figured theyd get back to me. Nothing ever happened. I login to the online account and attempt to make a request for changes on my policy. Never heard back. Theres alot going on in my life right now so i gave up after awhile. Figured everything would work itself out and id get a final correct bill or a call someday. I was so wrong.
Several days ago i get cancellation notices due to non payment. Im furious. The billing was never figured out and they are billing me for two policies. From what the letters say they want the full amount of both or theyll cancel me on that day and my policy "could be" reinstated theyll let me know. I panicked and thought i never want to deal with or talk to them again!!! Not taking a chance of them "reconsidering" and also im not paying 2 bills one of which is way higher then expected. So.... I instantly signed up for a new policy with a new provider starting a day before this messed up policy cancels. Im covered with no gap in coverage. I have exactly the coverage i want now and no longer wish to do business with SF.
TODAY is one day after old policy cancels i get a call from my agents office. The message from secretary stated they apologize its taken so long. Theyre finally figuring out the billing and give me a balance. The number given was what i agreed to at the time of plan setup. Im OK with paying that.
My question is how to proceed and deal with this billing? Id like it taken care of and pay what i owe WITHOUT having to speak to anyone at that office. Should i call the 1800 number or would they just forward me to the office? It may sound childish but theres no way i feel comfortable dealing with anyone at that branch ever again. Nor will i give them my bank card info or anything. Ill mail in a check or pay by CC online if i have to but not to that agents office. They made me feel like crap all through the process. I dont want to explain all this to customer service or file any complaints. How can i cancel, pay this off, and move on? From the letter i got its cancelled as of yesterday. The call today took me by total surprise.
Thanks for sticking with me thru all this. Any advice is appreciated.

1. Build a Standout Personal Brand
Your personal brand is your professional identity online. Here’s how to build a compelling one:

• LinkedIn Profile: Ensure your LinkedIn profile is complete and up-to-date. Use a professional photo, write a compelling headline, and craft a summary that highlights your strengths and achievements.
• Portfolio Website: Create a personal website to showcase your work, especially if you’re in a field like design, writing, or software development.
• Social Media Presence: Be active on platforms relevant to your industry. Share insightful content, engage with industry leaders, and participate in discussions.

2. Optimize Your Resume and Cover Letter
Even though you want employers to come to you, having a polished resume and cover letter ready is crucial:

• Tailor Your Resume: Highlight skills and experiences that are in demand in your industry. Use keywords that recruiters search for.
• Craft a Compelling Cover Letter: Write a generic cover letter that can be easily customized for different employers, emphasizing your achievements and what you bring to the table.

3. Network Effectively
Networking is key in reverse recruiting. Here’s how to do it effectively:

• Attend Industry Events: Participate in conferences, webinars, and meetups. Make connections and follow up with them.
• Engage on LinkedIn: Connect with recruiters, join relevant groups, and contribute to discussions.
• Informational Interviews: Reach out to professionals in your field for informational interviews. This can often lead to job opportunities.

4. Leverage Job Boards and Professional Communities
Use platforms that can put you directly in front of recruiters:

• LinkedIn Jobs: Set your profile to “Open to Work” and fill out the preferences to attract the right recruiters.
• Industry-Specific Job Boards: Join platforms and forums specific to your field where employers actively search for candidates.
• Freelance Platforms: Websites like Upwork or Fiverr can also attract employers looking for long-term hires.

5. Showcase Your Expertise
Demonstrating your skills and knowledge can draw employers to you:

• Blog or Vlog: Start a blog or YouTube channel where you share insights about your industry.
• Public Speaking: Give talks at industry events or webinars.
• Publish Articles: Write articles for industry publications or platforms like Medium.

6. Get Recommendations and Endorsements
Social proof can significantly boost your attractiveness to employers:

• LinkedIn Recommendations: Ask colleagues, managers, or clients to write recommendations for you on LinkedIn.
• Endorsements: Request endorsements for your skills from your network.

7. Stay Updated and Keep Learning
Continuous learning and staying current in your field is crucial:

• Certifications: Obtain certifications relevant to your industry.
• Online Courses: Take courses to upskill and stay competitive.
• Read Industry News: Stay informed about trends and changes in your field.

Schools need to do better. America needs to do better with its schools. Schools need to prepare kids for the outside world. "But that should be the parents' job!" No duh! But not every kid has the advantage of parents who can or will teach them what they need to know. I never learned how to write a resume or what the fuck a cover letter was in school. My parents didn't know how to do that either for a first job in the US. They got their first jobs under a completely different system in a country that doesn't exist anymore! What about kids whose parents don't have time? Those who don't give a shit? Just fuck us I guess? Isn't this supposed to be the land of equal opportunity (What a joke, I know)? How is it remotely equal if we're not even starting from the same knowledge of navigating the real world?
You know what my school did teach me? What the teacher's guide said Holden's red fucking hunting hat represented in The Catcher in the Rye. The only time I have ever used that knowledge was in rants about how utterly pointless it was. It wasn't even teaching us to find symbolism in writing. It was just "This is what it means, memorize it, it's going to be on the test".
Speaking of memorization - schools only really teach one way. That way doesn't work with you? Tough shit. You're gonna learn less, get lower grades, which will impede on your future prospects, get stressed, deal with whatever at home consequences there are...just because you learn differently. I used to be pretty good at math till mid-middle school. It all clicked because the teachers in earlier grades explained the hows and the whys of concepts. Bobby bought a pizza and split it between himself and 5 of his friends. How much of the pizza does each person get? See? That's division. That's something I could visualize and process. Then it became "Here's a formula, memorize it". Any questions got dismissed. "Where is this used?" "On the test" "Why does this work?" "Here's another bare mathematical formula that explains it". After middle school, I started sucking at math. I hated math. It was nothing but stress because I couldn't understand anything and my capacity for rote memorization was pretty shoddy. Still do, but watching videos with explanations on the whys, hows and for whats have made it easier to understand and more interesting.
Speaking of schools not helping with learning - it's looking more and more like schools are more interested in looking good than doing good. I have a friend who fell behind on a subject because her teacher was shit. She went into the next grade behind. She got put on an Individual Learning Plan (IEP), but instead of helping her catch up, they just gave her busy work, gave her passing grades, and sent her on her way. She's had to play catchup on her own as an adult. I'm now a school substitute and I've watched kids today get the same treatment. English assignment? Just scribble something down in text speak and you'll pass. We aren't doing kids any favours by letting them breeze by on shitty work! This will bite them in the ass when they're older!
Don't get me started on parents who think their kids are precious little angels who can do no wrong, or royalty whose every whim needs to be pandered to. You are doing your kids no favours. No, it's not the teacher's fault if little Billy is failing class because he's never turned in any of his work.
Then there's the money problem. We need a better system. Tying school funding to local taxes is inherently unequal. It's saying that kids from poorer families don't deserve as good of an education because their parents are poor. Tying funding to headcount is more viable, but when the population goes down, it fucks over all the other students. Misuse of funds, corruption, etc, yeah, that's a thing. The district I work in is dealing with such an issue right now, which results in huge layoffs. Even so, the government bails out companies that mismanaged their resources! Why not schools? Schools take care of the future generation! If you want them to be more than just glorified daycare centers, they need money! Why are we punishing kids and teachers for the admins' fuckups?

I have several resumes tailored for different buckets of jobs. So, when I apply I pull the most relevant one and write a custom cover letter. I am now using AI to help streamline the cover letter and make sure I include some exact verbiage from the job posting. But, I don’t edit the resume itself. Is this the right approach? Or should I be modifying both?
I honey get like no responses from applications, all my interviews are from local networking. And I generally interview well and people seem to like what I have to say, it is just about alignment in need and availability. But I am exhausting my local options and really need online applications to do more heavy lifting.