Jackie West glanced between the bars and boards on his windows, seeing the sky redden. He set about taking inventory of everything in the one-room cabin. Fresh light bulbs: check. Radio: check. Animal traps under the windows: check. Medical supplies: check. Guns: check. He emphasized the last with a satisfying pull on the slide of his shotgun, checking the chambers of his revolver, then sat in the chair facing the door and per his new routine, he waited.
He began to ponder what had happened for it to come to this. He thought back to the first Eclipse, three months before. It had been a regular day in the small town of Red Leaf, AL. “Town” might have been too generous; it was little more than a small collection of houses, shops, and a tiny police station connected by a crumbling road running through it. One would need to go well out of their way to get here.
Jackie had gone into town to purchase more hunting supplies for the oncoming winter and exchanged small talk with the kindly store clerk, Roger Orson. The clerk had asked Jackie if he’d heard the news about the eclipse that was set to occur. Jackie hadn’t, so Roger advised that he stay inside when it began to get dark; according to the papers, it was set to be a rather long eclipse, lasting at least five hours.
The Shades had appeared soon after the Eclipse came. It had cast an odd dark-red glow over the town. Jackie had gotten back to his cabin a mile and a half away from the town proper, only to find Red Leaf beset by a host of living shadows. Before long, screams erupted from the homes, followed by ghastly, inhuman screeches, the sound of vehicles being destroyed, and ghoulish laughter. His poor townsfolk had been claimed by the Eclipse.
Jackie’s focus snapped back to the present when the radio began to buzz with static. Soon enough, a chorus of distorted, fiendish words began. Whether he was a paragon of willpower or a shameless coward, he couldn’t say, but all he knew was that he never opened up for the creatures.
Five hours, he instructed himself as always. You just need to wait five hours and you’re home free until next time. He kept his eyes trained on the door. There were only a couple of other boarded windows in the cabin, so they didn’t concern him as much as the Shades deciding to barge in head-on, which he knew they could if they wanted. All of a sudden, he heard it. The crackling of leaves underfoot, the sound of objects dragging across the ground, heavy breathing from distorted throats. His grip on the shotgun tightened. Once again, the Shades had come for him.
Looking around, Jackie noted, not for the first time, that the sturdiness of his cabin was matched only by its restrictiveness. He could—and had—held out for a long time in this cabin. However, for all of its safety, he felt as if at any moment, it could squeeze him to death like a boa constrictor. The one-room nature of the structure could only offer so much peace of mind, as it gave him fewer places to check but also fewer places to escape if need be.
As if summoned by this thought, he heard the first of them at his door. The creature began its usual performance of wheezing, snarling, and chittering in a distorted voice. The radio quickly did its duty and broadcast the beast’s message.
“Jackie?” called the twisted, two-toned voice of Roger. “Jackie, open up, bud. I think it’s starting to clear up out here.” Even with the windows boarded, Jackie knew it was lying. He could see rays of the reddened sun slashing through the cracks, rays he dared not enter. He just stuck to watching the door as the radio continued to speak for the beasts. They all spoke with the voices of his neighbors, his friends, just as they always did, except they used a horrific parody of their voices. They always coaxed, begged, screamed, and threatened with the same goal: making him leave the house.
Then another voice chimed in, and as soon as he heard it, he knew that tonight was going to be different.
“Mr. West?” asked the timid, tearful voice of Ken Edwards, once an outgoing, happy-go-lucky young boy who never failed to say hello to Jackie when he came into town. “Can you please let me come in, Mr. West? I don’t like it out here. It’s scary, and something’s wrong with Mama and Daddy.”
The radio’s sadistic interpretation made his heart sink. Each time, there had been some kind of tell, a distortion to the voices that gave off the impression of it belonging to a Shade. But Ken’s voice, though filled with static, sounded as normal as ever.
“Mr. West?” the voice called again, sounding more desperate. “Mr. West, please.” He trailed off in a series of sobs, then continued through them, “Everyone out here’s gotten real mean. Mama and Daddy started fighting, and she hurt Daddy with a knife, then he hurt her with an axe. He kept hitting her over and over again. He grabbed me and…” Fresh terror took the boy’s voice as he began screaming, “Please, let me in! I see him! It’s Daddy, but it’s not! Why won’t you open the door?! Please, Mr. West! He’s gonna hurt me! He—”
The voice was cut off by the sound of a blade striking flesh, followed by choking and failed attempts at screaming in agony as the axe hit the boy again and again. Jackie listened to all of this, feeling bitter tears running down his cheeks. By now, he was feeling sorely tempted to go out there and shoot as many of those bastards as he could, but he remained steadfast. It was an illusion. Then the boy’s voice came back over the radio, only now it was a malicious, croaking cackle.
“You knew about it, Jackie! You knew about the Sun, and you didn’t even warn anybody! Just so you know, it took a lot longer for the boy to die than this. You should have seen the look on his face, Jackie. It was exquisite.”
Growling, Jackie began reaching for the radio, keeping his eyes on the barricaded door.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the voice sang tauntingly. Curious, Jackie looked at the radio, only to find that he was not reaching for the device but now his hand was reaching into the steel jaws of one of the bear traps he had set up. He tumbled out of his chair to pull his hand away from the steel teeth as they just barely missed his hand. The shock of what had just happened seemed to paralyze him as he realized his chair was in a different position than he had initially set it. Then he heard the wild, raucous cackles over the radio and outside as the beasts mocked his mistake. Jackie tried to ignore them, but he was still quite shaken up as he stood the chair back up to face the door.
All of a sudden, the radio fell silent. Then he heard something strike the door hard enough to shake it. He jumped back in shock, then took aim with the shotgun. It shook again and again. Jackie slowly backed up before it burst open. There they were: three deformed, mutilated figures with long, crimson strings attached to their bodies that pulsed like veins and seemed to stretch to the sky. The one on the right carried a pickaxe, the one on the left held a claw hammer, and the middle one held a hatchet. They all grinned madly at him, though even now he wasn’t sure if they were grinning because of the curse or because of how disfigured their faces were at this point. Outside, the moon gazed down on Red Leaf, having taken on the shape of a lidless scarlet eye with a colossal, black pupil. It glowered at Jackie, causing horrific images to flash through his mind. He was nearly taken off his guard as the intruders began their assault.
The middle Shade charged at Jackie in an attempt to swing the hatchet, only for Jackie to blow its leg off with a blast from his shotgun. Blood sprayed everywhere, coating the foyer in a grisly shower of vermillion. It showed no pain, just continued to try and stand on the remaining leg, whereupon Jackie pulled back the slide, ejecting the shell, and shot it in the head. The veins it was covered in seemed to absorb its corpse with a horrid slurping sound.
The other two attempted to do the same as their fallen compatriot, Jackie just barely dodging the pickaxe swinging for him as it lodged itself in the wall. He capitalized on this by pumping the shotgun again and firing at the Shade’s head. Then the monster with the hammer rushed at him, receiving the same treatment. Their ocular puppeteer in the sky slurped them back up.
That was when Jackie heard the chainsaw.
He whirled about in horror as the sound of the tool at one of the rear windows, then he saw the tool cut through the boards. Swiveling his head from his door to the window, he tried to keep himself calm despite knowing that at any moment, he could receive another ambush at the door. He was just hoping that the Shade’s entry through the window would have the results he was hoping for.
Once the boards were cut open, the Shade, a hulking brute of a man, stepped through. Before it could charge at him with the saw, it was halted by one of the bear traps which had bitten into its ankle. Without hesitation, it began to saw away at the leg, but Jackie stopped it with a shot in the chest, then the head.
More Shades began appearing, all bearing makeshift weapons and pierced with the same veins as their predecessors and all receiving the same treatment from his weapon. Now they were getting more aggressive. After killing at least ten more, he aimed for another swinging a large plank of wood, only to hear it click. The Shade swung the plank into Jackie’s left shin. He cried out in pain, but frantically dodged as it tried to bring it down for a finishing strike. Jackie grabbed the hatchet one of the first three had been carrying, then slashed at the veins. An enraged roar sounded from the sky, though whether it was because of control over its puppet being severed or from pain, Jackie couldn’t tell. Either way, it seemed to shake the confidence of the being somewhat, as the Shades suddenly ceased their siege of the cabin.
Jackie stared out at them, confused. He still kept his distance from the red beams of moonlight. Then something new happened. A figure descended from the sky. The Shades all parted, then knelt before it. From a distance, it looked like a man. As it approached, however, Jackie could see the sheer inhumanity of the thing. It too had veins sticking out of it, but unlike the Shades, it only had one vein attached to the moon. Furthermore, all of the veins seemed to run from it into the Shades. The multitude of eyes that coated its sexless, nude figure all resembled the moon, and they all turned their gaze on Jackie before the images raced through his mind again. Then it began addressing him.
Return to us what is ours, thief, it spoke into his mind with soft yet vicious authority. Give to us, the Sanguine Eye, what you have taken, and we shall yet allow you to retain your will. We will let you take the place of this Shade as our Seer. There is no greater honor or pleasure to be found. All you need to do is give us our rightful property.
For an appalling moment, Jackie thought the offer over. Then that moment passed as he saw the moon beginning to move out of the eclipse. It was getting desperate. It was running out of time, so it had resorted to bargaining with him. He responded by removing his revolver, aiming at the Seer and firing at one of the eyes on its torso. It burst open with a cascade of blood and other fluids.
The Seer clutched at the remains of the optical organ in pain, letting out a howl of agony, followed by fury. It pointed a finger at Jackie, then all of the Shades leaped to their feet and charged at the cabin. Jackie began counting the seconds. Just as the Shades entered the cabin and one was about to bring a lead pipe down on his head, the red light from the moon vanished, along with the Shades and their Seer. Sunlight bathed the town of Red Leaf, and Jackie sighed as he lay down, then groaned as he remembered the blow to his leg.
Once he had bandaged his leg, which was thankfully not broken, Jackie headed into the cellar, seated himself at his desk, and took the book out. The design of the hateful, scarlet eye on the cover watched him, judged him. He flipped to the pages with diagrams of an eclipse and hoped the bizarre trance would come over him again, illuminating some means of reversing things. He knew he was responsible for all of this. If he had just left that damn book alone, he wouldn’t have been possessed by the knowledge of what to say to call down the Sanguine Eclipse, as the book referred to it. This was his penance: staying in Red Leaf, surviving the attacks by his former neighbors. The force behind this book, the Sanguine Eye, made no attempt to leave town. Whatever it wanted, it would be incomplete without him. Without the one who summoned the Shades, the “collection” was incomplete. What’s more, it was getting desperate, and he thought he knew why. The book spoke of an event that had always occurred within a year of the Eclipse: the Azure Sun. Evidently, it was the equal and opposite reaction to the Sanguine Eclipse, a force that would cleanse the world of its doings. As long as he drew breath, he was going to make sure the Shades and their master stayed confined to Red Leaf. If he could no longer defend the cabin before the Azure Sun, he would burn it down with him and the book inside. He owed his neighbors that much.

Preparing for the Indian Administrative Service (IAS) Mains exam is a journey filled with dedication, discipline, and strategic planning. One of the most crucial components of this journey is mastering the art of answer writing. Your ability to articulate your knowledge and insights effectively can make the difference between an average score and a top rank. Here, we will delve into some key strategies to enhance your answer writing skills, ensuring you stand out in this highly competitive exam.

Understanding the Demand of the Question

The first step in effective answer writing is understanding the exact demand of the question. This involves:

1. Analyzing Keywords: Pay close attention to directive words like 'discuss,' 'critically analyze,' 'elaborate,' and 'compare.' These words indicate the approach you should take in your answer.
2. Identifying Parts of the Question: Break down the question into its constituent parts to ensure you address every aspect.

Structuring Your Answer

A well-structured answer is easier for the examiner to read and understand. Follow these tips for a coherent structure:

1. Introduction: Start with a brief introduction that sets the context. This could be a definition, a relevant fact, or a brief background.
2. Body: Divide the body into clear, logical sections. Use subheadings if necessary to organize your thoughts. Ensure each paragraph deals with a single point or argument.
3. Conclusion: Conclude with a summary of your main points or a forward-looking statement. Keep it concise and impactful.

Incorporating Relevant Content

The content of your answer should reflect depth and breadth of knowledge:

1. Current Affairs: Integrate recent events and developments to show your awareness of the contemporary context.
2. Examples and Case Studies: Use relevant examples and case studies to substantiate your arguments.
3. Diagrams and Flowcharts: Visual aids like diagrams and flowcharts can make your answer more engaging and easier to understand.

Writing Style and Presentation

Your writing style and presentation can significantly impact the readability of your answers:

1. Clarity and Precision: Write clearly and concisely. Avoid unnecessary jargon and verbosity.
2. Handwriting: If you’re writing by hand, ensure your handwriting is legible. Good handwriting can make a positive impression on the examiner.
3. Use of Bullet Points: For lists and series of points, bullet points can enhance readability and make your answer look organized.

Time Management

Time management is crucial during the exam:

1. Practice Regularly: Regular practice with timed mock tests can help you gauge the appropriate length and depth of your answers.
2. Prioritize Questions: Start with the questions you are most comfortable with. This builds confidence and ensures you secure marks in areas of strength.
3. Stick to Word Limits: Adhering to the prescribed word limit is important. Overwriting can lead to incomplete answers towards the end of the paper.

Revision and Feedback

Continuous improvement is key:

1. Self-Review: After writing a practice answer, review it critically. Look for gaps in content, structure, and presentation.
2. Peer Review: Exchange answers with fellow aspirants to gain new perspectives and constructive feedback.
3. Mentorship: Seek guidance from experienced mentors who can provide professional insights and identify areas for improvement.

To truly excel in the IAS Mains exam, personalized guidance and structured preparation are essential. At PM IAS Academy in Coimbatore, we offer comprehensive coaching tailored to your needs. Our expert faculty, extensive resources, and focused mentoring can help you master the art of answer writing and achieve your IAS aspirations. Enroll today and take the first step towards a successful career in public service.
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Mastering answer writing for the IAS Mains exam is a skill that can be honed with the right strategies and consistent practice. By following the tips outlined above and seeking expert guidance from PM IAS Academy, you can significantly enhance your chances of success. Happy studying!

Just a quick sanity check question. I was told by a vascular surgeon that TOS is only considered ATOS if there is a bony structure involved in compressing the artery, regardless of whether there is some artery compression. I've never seen that in everything I've read online but I'm definitely not a vascular doctor.
Background: So when I raise my arms above my collar bone my arms/hands turn ghostly white immediately and I can't hold them up for more than 30-60 seconds without feeling extreme fatigue and other weird sensations. I've had a decent amount of imaging now and most all of it has come back normal. The orthopedic doctor was pretty convinced I have ATOS so sent me to a vascular surgeon. They did an ultrasound and I don't remember the exact results (they showed me a diagram with some numbers on it) but from what I remember they said there is arterial compression (I think there were some blood pressure readings and the numbers changed?) but that I didn't have ATOS because I don't have any bony structures and I should be fine to use my arms (other doctor told me to avoid triggering symptoms). I asked him if NTOS would explain why my hands went as white as they do and he was like well you still probably have some artery compression. He said that some compression in different parts of the body is normal for a lot of people when they go into certain positions and isn't necessarily a cause for concern. I totally agree with that but the color my hands turn and the sensation in them is pretty extreme and makes me not able to use them in an elevated position for very long which does impact my day to day life. Everyone I show it to including other doctors are usually a little unnerved by it.
The doctor did say though he was pretty confident I have NTOS and that I would probably be a good candidate for surgery based on how long I have been trying to get relief (going on 2 years of PT with little success but only the last few months with a suspicion of TOS). In a few weeks they're going to try a scalene block and go from there.

Success!
I've been pulling my hair out the past two weeks because I had a check engine light for the throttle position sensor that was keeping the engine from running except at low rpm to charge the hybrid battery. I was still able to drive around the block on the electric motor up to about 30 mph.
So I replaced the throttle body and power pedal to no avail (both used, both returnable!) So I started tearing into the electrical system, bought a wiring diagram book. It arrived yesterday, so I checked all the wiring leading to the throttle body and discovered...a broken wire at the throttle body connector, but the insulation was good around it, so very difficult to see. I soldered it back together, and car is running just fine now. Took it for a spin around the block and it's running great.
Side note about transmission replacement - it's actually pretty easy as transmissions go. Most annoying part is you have to discharge the AC system as everything on the front of the car must be removed, then you lower the trans/engine package together and it slides right out the front of the car.

First < Previous Next >
I snap my head back down, with renewed vigour and hope about communicating with everyone without needing to play charades. With the knowledge that this is a microphone, my mind swims with the possibilities. If they can grow quartz crystals, they may be able to refine and grow silicon crystals, effectively making computers. Getting back on track, I add a resistor above the tremorsense and attach a ground wire below it. Tapping off between the resistor and tremorsense, I look to Silvra and gesture towards the translator.
“And what do you think you are doing?” She remarks, eying the setup with a mix of scepticism and intrigue. Her arms were folded, her brow furrowed in concentration.
“Just because you may be able to overhaul our entire way of life, does not mean I will give you something worth half a year’s wage. You best get to explaining yourself.”
Taking a deep breath, I sketched a quick diagram on the paper between us. I outlined how the piezoelectric effect of the tremorsense could convert sound into electrical signals that the translator could interpret. “It’s like turning vibrations into voices,” I explained, hoping the simplicity of the analogy would bridge the gap my technical terms could not.
“It…should work. Why has no one thought of this before?!” Silvra asks eagerly, reaching for even more paper, with Thallion leaning in to take notes as we possibly cross the language barrier.
Silvra passes me the translator, and carefully I place the tap wire on the central nub, and the ground on the body, similar to how their hands work with the metallic pin and the rest of their hand. I then reach for my phone and attach the power to the resistor, and the ground to the body of the translator as well.
I speak.
“can you hear me?” I ask, apprehensively, hoping I did not just blow up the device. It’s faint whine either being a really good thing, or a very bad thing.
“What was that?!” Lena turns around, after staring off into space as we got technical.
“i said, can you hear me?”
“yes we can!” Lena exclaims, not through the device, but from across the table, her eyes wide with astonishment.
“I can too. it is a little dull, but we can hear you. and you can hear us! without us touching it!” Thallion remarks,
I notice that yes, I can hear them, but rather than being melodic and transferring all the intent behind the meaning of the word, translating the emphasis, it comes across as dull, flat and lifeless, like text to speech readers. I find it quite painful to listen to.
“Perhaps it's a minor calibration issue,” I suggested, already thinking about adjustments to enhance the voice modulation.
“maybe i can sound like a robot for now, but perhaps, you should continue playing hot potato with the translator?”
“forget that!” Silvra remarks. “i may sound flat, but i don’t have to pass the device around! i can just leave it on a desk somewhere and it will just work!”
“not only is this an overhaul in this device, but think of the implications. we can talk across species without needing to touch very complex systems. we may even be able to communicate with animals, Lena!”
Lena perks up at this, “if i could talk to them, then i may be able to convince the big ones to leave us alone, but I worry about what that means if they are truly intelligent.”
Looking back at the device, I think back to the little I remember for analog electronics. The device can pass emotion and translate it, so it is capable of doing so. Maybe there is an issue with the prefilter? I could possibly fix that.
“silvra, it is amazing that we can talk, but I find it painful to listen to all of you due to the robotic voice. i think i can fix it. do you have the schematics for the device?”
“i don’t know what robot is, but i am guessing the flat sound, i do have drawings, let me go get them”
Silvra heads out, and Tallion is writing down everything. Lena is leaning over his shoulder.
“i know you are upset, but what you did is monumental, communication without contact, translation without touch. just remember that you are using your phone for power!” Lena states. I cannot tell emotion but bittersweet is all I can get.
Silvra enters again, knocking the snow off her clothes carrying some yellowed paper. Placing them down before me, I look across them.
“maybe increase the power input? That usually works for us. More space for clarity, or something,” Thallion adds, trying to be helpful.
I shake my head no, trying to ignore what he just said, based on the fact that is how humanity killed the first transatlantic cables. It is not a power issue as the device turns on, but a warping or nonlinearity of the data itself.
After a few moments of staring at the schematics, I find the input and the first thing I see is the massive choke directly after the input.
“a ha! found it!” I exclaim, reaching for the toolkit that Silvra brought over a few days ago. “just need to remove the choke at the front!”
“before you go voiding the warranty on this, why would that solve anything? that is how we regulate the flow of power!”
“i make direct current from my phone, so i don’t need to regulate it, in fact, that choke is destroying all high frequencies. i will talk about it if this works.”
“ok, but i’ll dismantle it. just point out the part on the schematic, and provide a jumper to cross over the holes”
Sighing, I grab the cables from the toolbox, along with the soldering iron and candle. Silvra grabs the components from me, and carefully unscrews the ground bell from around the power pin. Finding the power pin’s input into the interior, there is a large coil. Silvra quickly removes the coil and puts the jumper in its place.
Reassembling it, she gestures for me to talk. Taking a deep breath, and reconnecting my phone, I talk.
“Good afternoon everyone! And welcome to a new era! One of power for all!”
“I can hear you loud and clear!” Silvra exclaims, jumping up from the table.
“Astounding! Decoding the schematic and removing the choke did solve the problem!” Thallion replies.
“It worked before, and now it works better, I still think the first is more important to document”, Lena interjects, clearly getting bored of all of this tech talk
“So, Silvra,” I mention, “removing the choke works due to the same way the coil of wire moves coins: magnetism. Over the next few days we’ll be going over this in a lot more detail, but the choke does not choke the current, it converts it into magnetism, which is then released later. A changing current results in a changing magnet inside. It is very weak but enough to smooth input ripples, and stretch out the input spike slightly, which is probably why it is there in the first place.”
“But it comes with a downside. It acts stronger on faster switching pulses than on slow ones. My dc power has only an on pulse, but the signal of my voice is made of many higher vibrations. The choke would have killed this high frequency, and would have only passed the lower, which would be the fundamental frequencies only, sounding flat. The translator would then only be able to act on this flattened signal.”
“Now, I only got about half of that, but it stores the current as something called magnetism, saving it for later, and smoothing out the input,” Thallion states, looking up from his notes.
“Exactly. Think of it like a dam. Takes the surges and smooths them out, but you lose the changes caused by individual rainfalls”
“So what exactly is magnetism?”
“That is a good question, and contains several fields, chemistry, physics, all of what we classify as science. It will look like magic to you, but any sufficiently advanced magic is indistinguishable from science. Just be ready to learn.
“Does this make the motor thing spin?” Lena asks.
“Yes, yes it does.” I reply, looking at my phone and the power slowly but steadily dropping.

TLDR; anybody have a routing diagram for a 24" scale mustang HH?
Happy Tuesday! I answered an ad and walked away with many, many electric guitar parts for free... multiples of everything except bodies. One of the necks was originally on a Squier Mustang. I've been interested in a short-scale guitar lately, so I think I'd like to make a body for that neck (there's also a fretted Warmoth Hombre neck, unused. I don't wanna mess with that yet). I've never assembled a guitar, never even soldered, but I have some carpentry experience. My father makes beautiful furniture and has the tools associated with that craft.
Included in the haul was a pair of mahogany boards that don't appear to be bookmatched but had pretty similar grans, so we've glued them together, and that's as far as I've gotten. I think I 'd like to copy a Stingray body & controls, but make the body even more compact.
I can't spend extra money this time of year because my wife doesn't work in the summer, so I can't buy a hardboard routing template for a hundred bucks. Anyone have access to a PDF routing template for 24" scale solid body HH guitar body?

Now if you would take a look at this diagram, surely you will gain the ability to measure how likely it is for a creature to contain an infinite amount of cells in its body
DDDDDDXDDDDDDXDDDDDDDDDXDDDDDDD
FORTY TIMES PI EQUAL NON LINEAR NUMBER

 DDDDDDXDDDDDDXDDDDDDDDDXDDDDDDD 

NON LINEAR NUMBER DIVIDED BY THE NUMBER OF CHROMOSOMES IN A CREATURE WILL ALWAYS BE SMALLER THAN ITS PROVEN CELL
DDDDDDXDDDDDDXDDDDDDDDDXDDDDDDD
Why, why is it like this......

 OUR DIMENSION CANT EVEN COMPREHEND THE !POSSIBILITIES! 

DO .
YOU . REALIZE .
HOW MUCH THIS MATTERS.

"Mastering the Art of Communication: Navigating Context, Clarity, and Connection in Human Interaction"
Communication is the key to human interaction. It is bringing us closer to each other allowing us to exchange our thoughts, show emotions, and develop social connections. Whenever we face various situations in life, we understand that communication is much more than just verbally exchanging words but it’s all about comprehending and being comprehended. In this essay blog, I will discuss what I have witnessed about how incredibly deep and complex the skill of communication is, concerning context, clarity, and connection.

From the start of our lives when we cry for the first time as babies to the day when we grow up and deliver speeches, communication is a skill that we keep on learning and developing. Even though words are very important, the real meaning of communication is in the deeper connections we establish. The connections are made through several techniques and forms. My experiences have been a path of learning and development, a way of discovering how we can communicate more properly and effectively.

The first important thing I learned about communication is the influence of context. The situation of a conversation is the main factor that determines the result of the talk. For example, chatting casually in a café is not the same level as the formal dialogue in a boardroom. The physical space and the environment are the key factors that determine how the message is transmitted and how it is seen or perceived by the others. When we communicate face-to-face, our body language and voice tone also add layers of meaning and emotion that only words could not convey. However, written communication such as emails or messages relies on word choice and punctuation to convey the right feeling.

On the other hand, oral communication is often more successful than written communication in resolving conflicts as well as in showing complex emotions. The speed and gentle tone of a face-to-face conversation enables giving, asking, and thereby fewer misunderstandings. On the other hand, written communication being the one that lasts and the one that is most accurate, is the most preferred in cases where the information should be recorded or when communicating over different time zones.

Listening is another important factor I have realized in my journey. Having effective communication is not only about talking or chatting but also listening carefully. Listening with empathy and attention has the ability to transform our dialogues and makes it more meaningful and productive. It is not only to hear what others are saying but also to understand their feelings and thoughts. This high-level communication builds trust and respect, which are the two key elements of a successful relationship.

The clarity of the message is another essential component in this matter. The ambiguity can be the source of confusion and misinterpretation, which in turn will result in the failure of whole communication. Clarity in the language we used guarantees our messages to be comprehended properly. It is especially important when it comes to work where the level of detail and the clarity can be the deciding factor between success or failure. Here, we realize that visual aids like charts and diagrams can be more instrumental and effective in the transmission of complex information than verbal explanations alone could do.


Thus, the understatement form of non-verbal communication can sometimes be more powerful than the spoken words. Movements, facial expressions, and eye contact are communicative tools that can either contribute to or distract from the spoken word. A smile or a nod may reinforce positive communication, while crossed arms and looking away could imply discomfort or lack of interest. The fact that we are knowledgeable about these non-verbal cues makes it easy for us to send verbal messages more honestly and effectively.

Lastly, in this digital era, the form of communication has greatly changed. Social media, video calls, and instant messaging are the tools that have made the communication faster and easier. However, at the same time, they also bring some problems, for example, the chance of a miscommunication caused by the lack of nonverbal cues and the risk of information overload. A comparison of actual face-to-face talks with current digital communications reveals the role of balance. Besides the advantages that digital tools bring, they can be only seen as the supplements to the human interactions.
Communication is a dynamic skill that requires continuous research and development. Through the reading and the listening skills and the attention to the nonverbal signals, communication is, in fact, a complex art form. It is about searching for the perfect alignment amongst different channels and mechanisms that have a great influence in your social life. With our improved communication skills, relationships, both personal and professional, get stronger and the world becomes richer for us. At the end of the day, the soul of communication is all about its power to break down boundaries, cultivate mutual understanding, and develop strong bonds.

I'm walking through a bustling underground train station. I push and shove my way through all the other commuters onto the platform. As I look around, there seems to be endless rows of platforms in both directions, stretching well into a dense fog. Further ahead, neat lines of railway tracks extend out from the fog and through the platforms. I instinctually look up at the info screen
Next train in ### minutes
I furrow my brow, squint to try and focus on the numbers but they're heavily pixelated and illegible. I look around at the other commuters, who stream onto the platform completely unaware of the anomaly. Most people are on their phone, or wearing headphones while some are talking to each other. No one seems to notice the malfunction with the screen.
That's when the absurdity of the situation clicks for me. Endless platforms, a wall of fog, unreadable numbers and people that don't care. It's all a dream. I bring my hand up to my face and pinch my nose, trying to breathe through it. An old reality check I remembered from back when I was trying to learn to lucid dream.
My heart rate jumped when I realised, that I couldn't breathe through my nose. Before I could even process this, another problem presented itself. I didn't know why I was here. I didn't know where I was going and I definitely did not know how I even got here. It seems as if reality ceased to exist right before I walked onto this platform. Just like it typically feels in a dream, you spawn in out of nowhere and don't really know what happened prior - except this wasn't a dream.
I knew I was sure of it because deep inside my bones I felt this anxious urgent message. I need to catch this train. It was a primal feeling.
At this point, my head is spinning and I need to sit down somewhere. I choose a silver bench with a middle aged woman sitting on it. She shuffles further to the left as I sit down next to her clutching my head and racking my brain to try and figure out what it is happening. This is what amnesia feels like, I thought to my self as I gnawed at scraps of messy muddled memories. Each image that came into my mind was just a fragment - A school, a library, sickeningly white walls. It hit me that I didn't even know my name. I was starting to hyperventilate but then my body kicked into autopilot. I started to take deep breaths, focusing on my diaphragm and calming myself down. It felt like I was trained to do this. I started to focus on the current situation.
Where was my ticket? Instinctually, I knew I had to have gotten one on my entry to the train station. I reached into my pockets and pulled out a scrap of paper. Scrawled in very familiar cursive:
*In case of memory loss, read the journal in your backpack*
Strange message but I didn't have any choice then to at least give the instructions a try. I removed my backpack and rummaged through it for the journal. I wouldn't really call it a backpack - more a tattered and frayed bundle of cloth that was reminiscent of a backpack. I finally found a series of small thick journals, bundled in cloth with their leather covers on the verge of disintegration. The pages still seemed in good condition though. Each cover was sequentially labelled which I'm guessing corresponded to the chronological order of the writings within.
The lady next to me was weirdly getting agitated. She kept stealing glances, her body shaking and eyes burning with a fierce rage. I slowly got up from the bench and began to step backwards. My backpack bumped into a pillar. The dull thud it made seemed to cause a drastic change to everyone around me though. They all snapped their heads, locking eyes on me and staring through my very soul. I felt exposed.
The rumble of an arriving train stole away their attention and within a split second everyone was ignoring me again, going back to their usual activities. It seriously felt like I had just imagined it and it was becoming more and more clear that I was having some sort of mental breakdown. Nevertheless, as the train slowed to a stop on the platform, I walked into it and found a seat. The train seemed to be old and new at the same time. Typical blue seats with abstract dirty patterns complete with a modern sleek interior of gentle curves clashing with a boxy dull metallic exterior and doors that looked like they belonged on a rusty submarine.
I opened the first of the journals and began to read. I soon realised that the handwriting was mine and within the next few moments I was attacked by a barrage of memories that had remained repressed and buried in the back of my mind.
*
My name is Jacob and I have been stuck here in this place called *The Limbo* for an eternity. When I say 'eternity', I don't mean it lightly. Back when I used to keep track I counted over 500 years through my wristwatch that never seemed to run out of battery. Now I know counting is meaningless. There have been periods like this where my mind falls into a deep trance and I lose my whole identity as I mindlessly wander in this place much like the entities that inhabit it. Occasional periods of lucidity breach this trance and then I find myself lost and confused. It's why I keep the journals with me. I think its some sort of psychological survival mechanism that human brains develop when faced with the infinite vastness of The Limbo.
Speaking of The Limbo, I've come to learn a few things about its nature through my stay here. Some of its been through people that I've come across (Yes others are also stuck here) and some has been through my own experiences. Perhaps the most important is the question of where I get my food and water. The answer is weird. I have never felt hungry or thirsty. The sensation of having cool water slide down my throat remains a memory so distant that it feels like the snippet of a childhood dream.
I guess the next natural topic about this place would be time. Through various experiences of mine (that you'll get to read about) and discussions with others, the leading theory of mine is that The Limbo exists outside of time itself. While I myself have fallen here sometime during 2001, I've met many others from various years like the 80s, 90s and even one recent fellow from 2043.
Most people in The Limbo eventually fall into a trance, withering away until they become one of the entities or become mere tools for them. It's probably naive but I keep going through this place with only two hopes. The first is to somehow get out of here at the right time point and see my son, who I never got to see. The second is to come out of this place and die so that I no longer have to live out the empty agony of eternity (I'll explain how you can't age or die in The Limbo later). Perhaps my hopes will dwindle as the centuries pile and I will become just like those who I look upon in pity now.
I am writing this consolidated diary of my experiences for several reasons. I'd like someone to know of my unending journey in this place. To be aware of the capacity of the human spirit to keep going in the worst of situations. I have never had a long term friend in The Limbo, but know that I consider you the reader a dear friend even if I never get to meet you because you will know my story. I'm also sharing this in hopes that there is more awareness of The Limbo. Perhaps the military and scientists can actually figure out what it is. Perhaps all of us can be brought home. Or maybe this can serve as a survival guide to those who may be unfortunate enough to fall through.
There are small holes in The Limbo. Most of them are barely large enough for a pinkie finger to fit in let alone a person, but sometimes I've come across one large enough for this journal to go through. I'm not sure what time or place these holes lead to, so the safe passage of this book into a person capable of reading it has about the same chances as me ever leaving this place.
The train I'm on supposedly leads to the edge of The Limbo, where the holes are large enough for humans to fit through. It's really more of a legend amongst the poor souls that are trapped here and I've followed trails and clues for a long time to even find this train.
There are only two ways this goes. Both outcomes would lead to you reading this book in your hands. I'll either find my way out of this hell or give up hope and slip this journal through a Hole. You will find my fate at the end.
I should stop rambling now though. It would be best to start at the very beginning.
*
I was rushing out of work in pure ecstasy. My wife had gone into labor while I was at work and been rushed to hospital. I needed to get there fast. People were glancing over at me over their cubicles in confusion as I packed up my work bag and rushed out to the elevators. I couldn't stop thinking about seeing my first son as the elevator made its way down. The elevator doors finally opened and I rushed out.
The ground entrance of the building I worked at, particularly near the lobby, is an intersection of various hallways. I was already walking to close to the wall when someone came rushing around the corner and bumped me right into the wall. I was only able to hear half their apology when I fell *through* the wall like it was just a holographic projection. In hindsight, I find it oddly funny how easy it is for a life to get ruined. Just when you think you've got it all, when everything is going smoothly, a small incident like that is enough to take it all away.
I found myself in a room that resembled a classroom. It looked as if someone who had never stepped inside a classroom was asked to imagine the space. Desks were arranged in messy uneven rows with the chairs facing various directions. The board at the front of the room was a seamless patchy mixture of both chalk and modern whiteboard and mounted way too low on the wall, nearly hugging the floor. A large teachers desk sat in the front of the room. The walls were filled with posters of absolute gibberish along with diagrams and pictures that seemed like they showed something tangible but no matter how close you looked you could never identify anything in the picture.
The initial confusion was replaced by an immense panic. My heart was drumming against my chest as I searched the room for a doorway to exit it. My mind was trying to rationalise the situation. I was trying to convince myself that this was just some old part of the building and I had fallen into a hallway instead of the wall.
I ran through the doorway at the far end of the room and found myself in a large hallway that seemed to extend forever in both directions. The walls were a muted grey and the floors were that typical dirty linoleum. Soon I would find out that the regularly spaced doorways on either side of the hall led to other nonsensical classrooms.
I ran down the hallway screaming for help in pure panic, which was a terrible mistake in hindsight. I stopped running down the hallway when I suddenly heard the distinct scratch of chalk against board. In this large empty space, the sound echoed and boomed. Since I was still refusing to buy in to the reality of the situation, my hopes were momentarily increased by the supposed presence of another person here.
I slowly walked over to the doorway that the sounds were coming from. My stomach filled with an uneasy dread. This deep primal instinct within me urged me to hold back. I peeked carefully in the classroom and saw a woman with their back turned to me drawing something on the chalkboard.
It took me a few moments to notice that it was a very realistic portrait of my face.
She was drawing lines across my throat, her long dark hair swaying as she drew in the details. The drawing was completed with a terrible slash across the throat, blood gurgling out. I was frozen in place, transfixed on the hauntingly beautiful realism of the picture.
She began to turn around slowly while humming a high pitched tune. To this day I can't describe the face I saw. It is still etched into my mind. A face full of so much hatred, so much anger that I don't think its possible for a human to make that face. It expressed an emotion beyond human understanding. No artist in the world could ever render the expression on the paper. No words could describe the pure fear that coursed through my veins as she stared at me and began to approach.
I turned around to run, only to realise that a bunch of school children had gathered around me. They were headless, the bleeding stumps dripping thick blood onto the floor in a rhythmic patter. Somehow they were laughing.
I shoved through the group and ran down the hallway. I wasn't sure where I was going. My whole world had shattered and now I was completely aimless in some nonsense dimension with horrors beyond imagination that wanted me dead.
*
The extract above is from this journal I found at the foot of a large tree on a hiking trail. It's a miracle that I spotted its faded leather cover given that it was almost buried under rotting leaves. I really don't know what to make of what I'm reading, so I'll be slowly transcribing bits of it in separate posts over the next few days.
I know this subreddit is good for this sort of stuff. I'd love if someone else could share anything they know about The Limbo. This whole journal feels like some sort of prank, but the words and memories within feel way too real.
I can't help but feel a connection to this story. My mum doesn't speak much of my Dad, who I know left before I was born. No one ever found out where he went.
I was born in 2001
X

I am very scientific and visual when it comes to learning. I am also super detail-oriented. I like to know everything that is happing so that i can best replicate it. I am gonna put a link of a video kind of what I'm talking about https://youtu.be/wYwk07QM4rc?si=oataxo2WQglDj3Hi . Except I am wondering if, instead of speech, there are any videos where a diagram is shown while sounds of singing are being made. I am having a lot og trouble with my onsets and I want to see exactly how the throat, mouth and body move from a relaxed position to a singing position . I want to see what moves, how much, what sounds make which muscles move. I know this is a lot to ask, but if you know of any videos/ apps pls lmk. Thank youuuuuu

The MCQs for this test were brutal. The questions had the longest paragraphs explaining the situation. They were overall annoying and time consuming. I think I did pretty good had time for all of them except last 2. The FRQ was fair and nothing to crazy. I was confused how to draw free body diagram for FRQ #3. FRQ #1 and 2 were fair and not too challenging.

My last post went over surprisingly well, that said you should check out my new subreddit Talesofzippy for more content, because I'm definitely going to posting in more places around reddit and I'll be cross posting them in the tales sub for more people to enjoy!
With that, I don't remember any good stories about Zippy, but the place I work at is fucking filled with loonies, so tonight I'm going to introduce you to Katniss.
Katniss is about 63, tiny, and absolutely loved to talk about how good her guns are, even if she can't shoot or generally understand how they work. She tried to tell me that her Girsan was a high quality gun because the barrel is pinned in place.
I'm a competitive shooter, I grew up shooting and learning about guns.
When a pistol fires a round, a floating barrel will be pointed at an upward angle at the end of the stroke, while a pinned barrel doesn't. The floating barrel doesn't effect accuracy in any meaningful way because it is held in place by several seers, and doesn't begin to move until well after the bullet is out of the gun.
I tried to explain that, she didn't listen. She also can't shoot. Katniss.
She also wears boomer shirts about "snowflakes" and shares memes about the good old days when you could say whatever you want and be offensive.
This gets funny later.
Katniss and I worked together running gas pumps, and we generally got along great, in fact for a year I considered her to be a friend.
And then my dad killed himself.
I got the call at work and got a ride home as quickly as possible. Katniss was on shift with me and Yawn, who is the most chill person you can imagine.
They were incredible, Katniss broke into my apartment (at my request) and took my shotgun for safe keeping. She also took my keys and made me wait for a family friend to pick me up.
I called the night manager and told him I was going home and why, He offered me a ride.
I came into work three days later and stuck my head into my boss (Elk Daddy's) office. He simply said "how long do you need?"
"Two weeks."
"Okay."
I mention this because Anything less than this is a cancerous work environment. If a manager tries to negotiate with you when you've experienced a true tragedy, they're not a manager, they're a slave driver.
I had severe PTSD, nightmares, the whole shabang, for months I would stand at the desk and hear my mom's voice telling me my dad was dead, the first night back at work I witnessed some dumb janitorial drama (not zippy) and I started smelling the sickly sweet smell of human brain before I ran home and had my first panic attack.
(I'll tell the story of Elk Daddy, and make good on a promise I made my dad as a bonus at the end.)
Six months passed, my PTSD wasn't even beginning to heal, and she pulled me aside.
"Okay. It's time to stop now."
"Stop what?"
"This, you're in a rut, and you need to get out of it. It's high time you moved on and stopped being sad and moved on. See my sister was in a car accident and went into a coma when I was about 20, and I had a dream about her getting up and walking out of her hospital room and saying "it's about fucking time." The next day her heart gave out and she finally died. It was this freeing thing for me, because I felt like she was finally free of the broken body and the pain."
"Katniss I just don't feel like I'm... There yet. I'm still hurting, and I really don't feel like I'm ready to let him go. Things aren't that easy."
She didn't like that answer.
At the time I just felt broken, and just laid there and took it, but today I'm genuinely angry about it.
I was hurt, and now that I've rebuilt myself I realized how truly broken I was as a person.
She had no right to say anything to me about how it was time to stop. I'm still healing four years on.
That was when we stopped being friends.
Last year I was going through stickers for our local pride, the second one our community has ever had! I had come out as bi the year before, and had a side project that had grown large enough to have a booth at the local event. I was showing off some cool and funny stickers to Yawn, another cashier.
Yawn is great, he has no blood pressure, everything is just really cool and chill, and he really just wanted to be friends with everyone.
Genuinely nice person. I always get him a Christmas gift and he's always grateful, no matter what it is.
I turned around and handed a sticker to Katniss that said "be gay, so crime" with a little picture of a fabulous criminal goose on it.
She took one look at it and just went "No" rather forcefully, so I just backed off and moved on.
The next day my boss, Elk Daddy, calls me over.
"Op, you handed Katniss a sticker yesterday, and I just want to tell you. Stop talking to her. Please. For me."
"She really complained about that?"
"No, she threatened to go to HR because you "assumed her orientation" and tried to give her a sticker."
It is at this point that I'd like to add that Elk Daddy is gay. Like... Really gay. Him and his husband both donate their time and money to pride, and have been instrumental in making it happen. They are the gay uncles that stepped up to be dads for their nephews when Elk Daddy's brother couldn't.
He knows Katniss, and both of us know her HUSBAND.
So. We didn't talk outside of necessary conversations, and haven't really said anything to each other for any reason.... Until I transferred to my current department and ran out of pens.
I walked over to the cashier desk "hey Katniss, can I get a handful of pens? I ran out."
"I gave three to morning shift last night, what happened to those?"
"I don't know, and it doesn't matter, can I get some?"
Yawn walked over to the drawer where we keep the pens and opened it, while Katniss sighs and opens up her drawer and drops a pen on the counter.
"Come on Katniss, I need more than that."
"I don't have that many pens, they're not giving them to us, here, this is all I have."
She angrily throws down two more pins on the counter as Yawn retrieves an entire box of pens from the drawer and begins walking over. She sees him and motions for him to stop."
"Don't fucking bullshit me Katniss, I see Yawn with the box. Just give me some pens."
She drops six more down on the counter, I take them and walk off. "Thank you."
Ten minutes later she comes over to the deli and slams a box of pens down on the counter for me
"Don't ask me for pens again."
"Wouldn't have it any other way."
She then told the MOD that I cussed her out. I told my side, and several people in the management chain pointed out that she wore tee shirts under her uniform that said more offensive things, one of them even saying "don't fucking bullshit me."
She is no longer allowed to wear her tee shirts.
She's also had it pointed out to her that she says "don't fucking bullshit me" all the time, and management has gently reminded her that she should not swear.
A few weeks ago she very dejectedly told me that she was done trying to help people, and I had to bite back a "good, we don't need it."
And here we are... End of another post about the weird boomers I work with.
BONUS STORIES!
As for Elk Daddy.
My boss has only ever taken his husband out hunting one time. When they did, they ended up trekking across the country on deer trails and through the brush. After 12 hours of being dragged through the brush and not shooting anything, his husband said something to the effect of "I hate this. I can't keep up with you and you just disappear all the goddamn time." He took my boss's phone, logged in, and yells "in fact HEY SIRI, FROM NOW ON CALL ME ELK DADDY."
nickname earned. He has it monogramed on his wallet.
And finally, my dad, who was another Boomer, used to love taking me out camping.
He was an electrical engineer, and was most certainly on the spectrum. He was brilliant in his own way, but absolutely unhinged when it came to teaching things.
A lecture from my dad could cover cleaning the stove (with diagrams on proper wiping techniques) to the finer points of building and firing a nuclear weapon. (With math included. No mercy.)
He tried to teach me calculus when I was six. It didn't work.
Anyway, on this particular camping trip he pulled me aside and said "op, I want you to make me a fire using nothing but two sticks, your knife, a match and the chainsaw"
Now. I knew where he was coming from, he wanted me to make a fuzz stick. I knew because he had only brought up the topic of making a fuzz stick every night for the past three days of camping. He then very helpfully added "and the chainsaw is a distraction."
Uh huh. Okay dad.
I Start cutting up the wood and making a teepee fire, and I hear a little "hmph" I look up and I see the smile. The grin he used to get as he started planning one of his little lectures. He was picking out the right words, deciding if he needed to demonstrate or just use a pen and paper.
I then opened up the gas tank on the chainsaw, dumped in a tablespoon of gas, lit the match and "whoof"
Fire.
Then the argument began.
"I said you couldn't use gas!"
"You said I could use the chainsaw, that includes the gas tank!"
"The chainsaw was a distraction!"
"Still gave it to me!"
"You cheated!!!"
"How?"
Long pause.
"I won, admit it. I beat you in a way you didn't expect. You will never live this down. I'll tell this story at your funeral!"
And I did. Three years later I tore up my hastily scribbled notes and told a group of the friends, neighbors and coworkers that he knew and loved about the time I finally beat him. We laughed.
I think he'd be proud, and a little indignant.
I miss you dad.

My last post went over surprisingly well, that said you should check out my new subreddit Talesofzippy for more content, because I'm definitely going to posting in more places around reddit and I'll be cross posting them in the tales sub for more people to enjoy!
With that, I don't remember any good stories about Zippy, but the place I work at is fucking filled with loonies, so tonight I'm going to introduce you to Katniss.
Katniss is about 63, tiny, and absolutely loved to talk about how good her guns are, even if she can't shoot or generally understand how they work. She tried to tell me that her Girsan was a high quality gun because the barrel is pinned in place.
I'm a competitive shooter, I grew up shooting and learning about guns.
When a pistol fires a round, a floating barrel will be pointed at an upward angle at the end of the stroke, while a pinned barrel doesn't. The floating barrel doesn't effect accuracy in any meaningful way because it is held in place by several seers, and doesn't begin to move until well after the bullet is out of the gun.
I tried to explain that, she didn't listen. She also can't shoot. Katniss.
She also wears boomer shirts about "snowflakes" and shares memes about the good old days when you could say whatever you want and be offensive.
This gets funny later.
Katniss and I worked together running gas pumps, and we generally got along great, in fact for a year I considered her to be a friend.
And then my dad killed himself.
I got the call at work and got a ride home as quickly as possible. Katniss was on shift with me and Yawn, who is the most chill person you can imagine.
They were incredible, Katniss broke into my apartment (at my request) and took my shotgun for safe keeping. She also took my keys and made me wait for a family friend to pick me up.
I called the night manager and told him I was going home and why, He offered me a ride.
I came into work three days later and stuck my head into my boss (Elk Daddy's) office. He simply said "how long do you need?"
"Two weeks."
"Okay."
I mention this because Anything less than this is a cancerous work environment. If a manager tries to negotiate with you when you've experienced a true tragedy, they're not a manager, they're a slave driver.
I had severe PTSD, nightmares, the whole shabang, for months I would stand at the desk and hear my mom's voice telling me my dad was dead, the first night back at work I witnessed some dumb janitorial drama (not zippy) and I started smelling the sickly sweet smell of human brain before I ran home and had my first panic attack.
(I'll tell the story of Elk Daddy, and make good on a promise I made my dad as a bonus at the end.)
Six months passed, my PTSD wasn't even beginning to heal, and she pulled me aside.
"Okay. It's time to stop now."
"Stop what?"
"This, you're in a rut, and you need to get out of it. It's high time you moved on and stopped being sad and moved on. See my sister was in a car accident and went into a coma when I was about 20, and I had a dream about her getting up and walking out of her hospital room and saying "it's about fucking time." The next day her heart gave out and she finally died. It was this freeing thing for me, because I felt like she was finally free of the broken body and the pain."
"Katniss I just don't feel like I'm... There yet. I'm still hurting, and I really don't feel like I'm ready to let him go. Things aren't that easy."
She didn't like that answer.
At the time I just felt broken, and just laid there and took it, but today I'm genuinely angry about it.
I was hurt, and now that I've rebuilt myself I realized how truly broken I was as a person.
She had no right to say anything to me about how it was time to stop. I'm still healing four years on.
That was when we stopped being friends.
Last year I was going through stickers for our local pride, the second one our community has ever had! I had come out as bi the year before, and had a side project that had grown large enough to have a booth at the local event. I was showing off some cool and funny stickers to Yawn, another cashier.
Yawn is great, he has no blood pressure, everything is just really cool and chill, and he really just wanted to be friends with everyone.
Genuinely nice person. I always get him a Christmas gift and he's always grateful, no matter what it is.
I turned around and handed a sticker to Katniss that said "be gay, do crime" with a little picture of a fabulous criminal goose on it.
She took one look at it and just went "No" rather forcefully, so I just backed off and moved on.
The next day my boss, Elk Daddy, calls me over.
"Op, you handed Katniss a sticker yesterday, and I just want to tell you. Stop talking to her. Please. For me."
"She really complained about that?"
"No, she threatened to go to HR because you "assumed her orientation" and tried to give her a sticker."
It is at this point that I'd like to add that Elk Daddy is gay. Like... Really gay. Him and his husband both donate their time and money to pride, and have been instrumental in making it happen. They are the gay uncles that stepped up to be dads for their nephews when Elk Daddy's brother couldn't.
He knows Katniss, and both of us know her HUSBAND.
So. We didn't talk outside of necessary conversations, and haven't really said anything to each other for any reason.... Until I transferred to my current department and ran out of pens.
I walked over to the cashier desk "hey Katniss, can I get a handful of pens? I ran out."
"I gave three to morning shift last night, what happened to those?"
"I don't know, and it doesn't matter, can I get some?"
Yawn walked over to the drawer where we keep the pens and opened it, while Katniss sighs and opens up her drawer and drops a pen on the counter.
"Come on Katniss, I need more than that."
"I don't have that many pens, they're not giving them to us, here, this is all I have."
She angrily throws down two more pins on the counter as Yawn retrieves an entire box of pens from the drawer and begins walking over. She sees him and motions for him to stop."
"Don't fucking bullshit me Katniss, I see Yawn with the box. Just give me some pens."
She drops six more down on the counter, I take them and walk off. "Thank you."
Ten minutes later she comes over to the deli and slams a box of pens down on the counter for me
"Don't ask me for pens again."
"Wouldn't have it any other way."
She then told the MOD that I cussed her out. I told my side, and several people in the management chain pointed out that she wore tee shirts under her uniform that said more offensive things, one of them even saying "don't fucking bullshit me."
She is no longer allowed to wear her tee shirts.
She's also had it pointed out to her that she says "don't fucking bullshit me" all the time, and management has gently reminded her that she should not swear.
A few weeks ago she very dejectedly told me that she was done trying to help people, and I had to bite back a "good, we don't need it."
And here we are... End of another post about the weird boomers I work with.
BONUS STORIES!
As for Elk Daddy.
My boss has only ever taken his husband out hunting one time. When they did, they ended up trekking across the country on deer trails and through the brush. After 12 hours of being dragged through the brush and not shooting anything, his husband said something to the effect of "I hate this. I can't keep up with you and you just disappear all the goddamn time." He took my boss's phone, logged in, and yells "in fact HEY SIRI, FROM NOW ON CALL ME ELK DADDY."
nickname earned. He has it monogramed on his wallet.
And finally, my dad, who was another Boomer, used to love taking me out camping.
He was an electrical engineer, and was most certainly on the spectrum. He was brilliant in his own way, but absolutely unhinged when it came to teaching things.
A lecture from my dad could cover cleaning the stove (with diagrams on proper wiping techniques) to the finer points of building and firing a nuclear weapon. (With math included. No mercy.)
He tried to teach me calculus when I was six. It didn't work.
Anyway, on this particular camping trip he pulled me aside and said "op, I want you to make me a fire using nothing but two sticks, your knife, a match and the chainsaw"
Now. I knew where he was coming from, he wanted me to make a fuzz stick. I knew because he had only brought up the topic of making a fuzz stick every night for the past three days of camping. He then very helpfully added "and the chainsaw is a distraction."
Uh huh. Okay dad.
I Start cutting up the wood and making a teepee fire, and I hear a little "hmph" I look up and I see the smile. The grin he used to get as he started planning one of his little lectures. He was picking out the right words, deciding if he needed to demonstrate or just use a pen and paper.
I then opened up the gas tank on the chainsaw, dumped in a tablespoon of gas, lit the match and "whoof"
Fire.
Then the argument began.
"I said you couldn't use gas!"
"You said I could use the chainsaw, that includes the gas tank!"
"The chainsaw was a distraction!"
"Still gave it to me!"
"You cheated!!!"
"How?"
Long pause.
"I won, admit it. I beat you in a way you didn't expect. You will never live this down. I'll tell this story at your funeral!"
And I did. Three years later I tore up my hastily scribbled notes and told a group of the friends, neighbors and coworkers that he knew and loved about the time I finally beat him. We laughed.
I think he'd be proud, and a little indignant.
I miss you dad.

While poking around at the tail lights on my Maverick the other day, I couldn't help but notice that daylight was visible through the body behind my left tail light and a ton of dirt built up on the back of the light assembly, and no light when looking behind the right tail light and a lot less dirt. So that raised the question of was that area under the truck behind the left wheel ever covered by a splash shield, and if so what's the part number for that splash shield? I've been trying to find a diagram for the splash shields under the truck but haven't been able to come up with anything yet.

I had this dream recently, it was very detailed. Like the plot of a movie. I can't stop thinking about it. I wish I had kept dreaming to learn more... Came here because I had to document it.
My dream;
I was an observer, not a participant. I was transported back to ancient Egypt. There was a confrence of sorts. A large body of people, maybe a governmental body? had gathered to hear a person make the case to the Queen that he knew how to find and access an ancient treasure. From my perspective, I got to see over his shoulder as he showed a map to the Queen. The place in question was a weathered and worn pyramid like structure that was more akin to a massive mound or a small mountain. It was somewhere within the borders of Egypt, in the wilds. But this man knew where it was, he was an engineer or something. Excitedly he explained how they could access the chamber inside the top of this mountain. He showed diagrams of the tunneling they would undertake, to dig up from the base of the mountain and into the chamber from below. He explained that there were already small cave systems with entries at the base of the mountain, which indicated to him that this was indeed the site of ancient activity, and from which he would gain a great advantage in his endeavor.
From my 3rd person perspective, I could see what he was talking about clearly. And indeed, an ancient chamber existed in what appeared to be a mountain that was roughly the shape of a steep pyramid. I was unable to discern what lay inside. As the Queen blessed off on his plans, and the congress of people within the large gathering area began to approach in order to better acquaint themselves with the plan, I was suddenly transported to an even more ancient time.
Now, keep in mind I started this journey in ancient Egypt. So, from this point I transported thousands of years further into the past. I was under the impression that it had been 25,000 years prior to the scene I had just witnessed.
Now I was suddenly observing the ancient civilization that had created the chamber. I sensed I was in the same region that would someday be Egypt. The land was verdant and deep green with long grasses and dotted with trees, not unlike a very lush savannah. The temperature was balmy. Greens with a brilliant blue sky dominated the scene. In the distance dark brown rocky spires rose out of the landscape, dotted on the tops and upon their outcroppings hung trees and grasses.
My focus settled on a cluster of large, pyramid-like structures. I saw these from above as the new scene came into my focus and observation. The structures were, as I said, Pyramid like. But imagine the wire structure of a pyramid. They weren't solid. Vertically, the pyramid was segmented into 2 or 3 tiers of broad walkways. The walkways formed a square. In the middle were the stairways that led up to the various tiers of walkways. All elements of the structures were broad. The beams that made up the four edges were made a very thick, dark gray material. Like a carbon fiber. The walkway floors were like a dark tinted transparent material, with side walls/rails that were made of the same material as the walkways. There were four stairways from the ground that led up to an intermediate platform, where the stairways reversed direction up to the walkways, therefore each ground stairway entry onto the intermediate platform was flanked on either side by a set of stairs leading the opposite way up to the main platforms.
On the broad walkways/platforms, which were open in the middle to look down at the intermediate platform/stairways below, were people. Humans. Working and living on the platforms. It appeared that there were vendors and shops/kiosks. There also appeared to be living accommodations either out in the open or sheltered in smaller sub structures. The pyramid was massive, with ample room for several 100's of people. I never got close enough to see in detail the people themselves, but they wore what appeared to be modern clothing, and in many cases what appeared to be dark gray uniforms. I didn't see the details, but I sensed vehicles at the base of the pyramid, with worn paths through the grasses off to points in the distance and other similar pyramids in the vicninity.
From my perspective, it seemed there were 3 to 4 of these structures in the area. In the back of my head, I was aware that this region contained the only human activity on the surface on the planet.
I was also aware of the presence of a large body of water. An ocean somewhere in the distance.
Without transition I was suddenly looking at the ancient mound that had been in question at the beginning of my dream. Except it wasn't ancient. It was manufactured and sculpted by human hands. It was made as much out of rock as it was the same material I saw at the modern pyramids, I had this awareness that the material was transitioning to rock, as if it adopted the properties of the materials it was attached to. It seemed as if they had somehow shaved down a larger mountain to affect the shape that they had sought. The chamber had large slits around the circumference (the chamber within was round) which let light in and in some cases allowed one to look out at the surrounding landscape.
I was made aware of a family as I took in this scene. The family apparently were the caretakers of this facility. Two adults and two children. They seemed happy. The parents both wore the uniform I had seen earlier. It was sharp, and colored dark grey with light grey accents. They had a living quarter that was affixed to the side of the facility in a way I couldn't quite understand. The structure also seemed metalic but not the same material as I had seen thus far. In this part of the dream I became well acquainted to them, not personally, but in understanding their day to day activities, giving way to my understanding of them as caretakers.
As my perspective moved through the facility I realized there was not yet a treasure, but what appeared to be supplies for a colony. Lots of cans of fuel and food stuffs and other random equipment that I couldn't understand the use of. From my 3rd person perspective I understood that this would be the site that the future Egyptians would eventually access, and indeed there would be some valuable treasure, the contents of which eluded my understanding, held within this very chamber after it had long been sealed.
I got to see the detailed life of this family, and interestingly their living accomodation which as I said was somehow affixed to the side of the chamber in a way that I couldn't discern or undesrtand, which itself was atop the mountain/structure. Beyond, visible through the large windows of their living quarters was the ocean that I had sensed earlier. Their living chamber was large and spacious. The side opposite the chamber was facing a dark greenish/gray roiling ocean, with yet still more spires in the distance sticking out of its waves - except these were dark grey, craggy and devoid of any vegetation. The waves that crashed at their bases seemed angry. I understood immediately that this was an ancient ocean that would not exist during the time of the Egyptians
I was surprised to see a platform outside the large windows which docked vehicles. They appeared to be classic ATVs (like your average four-wheel ATV with handlebars) except these vehicles, despite their four wheels had some apparatus affixed to it, around its entire circumference that I immediately understood allowed this vehicle to fly using some method I could not understand. There was a name brand affixed to what I understood to be the gas tank, a name which I can't recall. But it indicated mass production and greater civilization.
I was suddenly aware of the presence of multiple chamber mountains on either side of the one I was observing, and each had a care-taker family with one or multiple of these vehicles. And still, it felt like there could be more facilities that I was not aware of. For some reason, having observed these vehicles I suddenly came to an understanding that the presence of these people, and the infrastructure they had built, was in support of some sort of mining or extraction. That everything was one collective enterprise. I was not privy to what it was, or how involved it was, how long it would take or had taken to that point. But I did have the sudden understanding that, though these were humans, they were not from earth. That this was a mining colony that had a certain amount of time to accomplish whatever it was they were sent here to extract.
Simultaneously, I was able to understand vaguely a connection between this people, and future humans. Without understanding the details, I discerned that this group would eventually leave, and the landscape would be altered forever. They would leave a presence on earth, whether by accident, or on purpose, it was unclear to me.
That presence would be the progenitors of modern humans and human civilization as we currently know it. It seemed apparent to me that whatever contingent was left behind after this enterprise would have very little in the way of the technology that I was observing.
This gave me the distinct suspicion that the people who were left were done so by some tragic mistake. But their stories, passed down from generation to generation would at the very least influence the ancient Egyptians. So much so that they themselves would try to emulate the pyramids they had come to understand had existed through the tribal knowledge passed down through generations. And that future peoples would understand that untold wealth and knowledge existed deep within the ancient mountains that had been carved out by the progenitors, thus the initial scenes of my dream where one man and his team of engineers had narrowed down their search and had pinpointed such a mountain, and devised a way that would allow them to access said treasure.
What that treasure would be remained unclear to me throughout the entire dream.
My dream slowly decayed into other less interesting and focused things until I woke up. The progenitors stuck with me and I felt compelled to write it out as it was so fascinating. I had to share.
Thanks for reading if you made it this far.

PART ONE THOUSAND AND ELEVEN
[Previous Chapter] [Next Chapter] [The Beginning] [Patreon+2]
Sunday
“Daaaaddy!”
Levi groaned, for the shouting whine from his bedside dragged him kicking and screaming out of sleep in a way no other alarm could. Only two other sounds garnered a faster reaction from him: someone vomiting right beside him or his baby girl screaming in either pain or fear.
He opened one eye, wondering if someone had ever made an alarm that sounded like either of those last two. Parents everywhere would never sleep in again, so maybe not.
A blurry red-headed vision was so close that he could smell her morning breath as it tickled his nose. “Heeey,” he yawned, pulling away enough to bring her back into focus. “What’s up, Peaches?”
He didn’t recognise the room they were in. Not even a little bit. He sat up fast and looked around, causing Maddy to let out an ‘eep’ of fright. “Daddy! You made some come out!”
And then the events of the night before came crashing in: the party, the knowledge that his roommate was going to have the kind of company Maddy didn’t need to see, the invitation to stay in Luke’s old room, and Maddy’s late-night escapades after he’d dropped like a rock after doing a double shift to make it to the party.
He saw Maddy’s uncomfortable wiggle-dance and the strained look on her face and remembered he’d locked the door. “Oh!” He flew out of bed, scooping her up in the process. If he ended up getting peed on, it was his own fault for not setting an alarm for his baby girl’s tiny bladder.
He unlocked the door and dove around the corner, willing to go through the shut bathroom door if he had to, but thankfully found the room open and vacant. Then he flipped the toilet lid before depositing her on the ground in front of the toilet. He immediately pivoted away, not because he was embarrassed by her but because Maddy had grown old enough not to like him watching her go to the toilet. She was starting to get antsy about her bath, too, but until she could adequately bathe herself and not merely play with her bath toys the whole time, that was a hard ‘don’t care’ line.
“Do you want to have a bath, baby, or wait until we get home?” he asked, crossing the room to hold the door almost shut to prevent anyone else from seeing her either.
“I don’t got clothes, Daddy,” she answered like he was an idiot.
Word choice aside, the sentiment was true. They’d borrowed the shirt she was wearing from Charlie. “Well, we need to figure something out, Peaches, because you are not leaving this house in only a nightgown and no underwear.” He’d send Charlotte out to buy her some clothes if he had to.
He heard the toilet flush and Maddy move up behind him, and turned long before she could touch him. “Three guesses what I didn’t hear, young lady?” he asked with a paternal frown. He pointed at the vanity when she looked up at him without a clue.
“But I can’t reach!”
“Then what are you supposed to do?”
Her shoulders slumped. “Daddy, c’n you help?”
He then smiled. “Better.” He put a hand on top of her head and spun her towards the vanity before guiding her forward. After they crossed the room, he loosened the faucet without turning it on and curled his hands around her waist, lifting her high enough that she could lean over the sink. She washed her hands, rinsing them thoroughly, then scooped the water and let it fall over the faucet before turning it off. Not that water alone would wash away the ‘germs’ of the initial contact, but the sentiment was there. Her mother had been a nurse, after all.
“Is Mister Larry still here?”
“I don’t know, baby. But how about we go and see if we can track down either Aunty Charlotte or Robbie and figure out where we’re at, okay?”
“We’re in Uncle Luke’s and Aunty Charlotte’s home,” she said, again like he was an idiot.
That had been a rather stupid thing to say to a three-and-a-half-year-old. “Alright, Miss Smarty-pants. And what are we going to eat for breakfast in Uncle Luke and Aunty Charlotte’s home if we can’t find them to ask them, hmm?”
“Food, silly.”
Clearly, he was going to have to up his game in parental rhetorical questions. Gone were the days when she’d take him at his word, and she was only three. Thirteen was going to be fun. “Right,” he muttered, shaking his head as he opened the door and stepped out into the hallway.
While holding Maddy’s hand, he peeked in the open door across the hall from the bathroom and saw a very plain bedroom in terms of the rest of the apartment’s décor. At first, he’d thought it was a guest room until he remembered the teenage kid Robbie had recently adopted. This was probably his room.
He’d seen Charlotte and Robbie’s room the day they moved Charlotte in here, so a quick glance to confirm the room was empty was all he needed on that score. That left two doors on the right. And since both were close together, with the one on the left barely a couple of feet from the other and the front wall separating the living room, Levi was willing to assume the second one was a half-bath or a powder room or something. He went to the second door and knocked.
“Yeah?” Mason called from inside.
Levi opened the door and poked his head inside. “Hey, you wouldn’t by any chance happen to know where Robbie or Charlotte are, would you?”
Mason was at his desk, drowning in paperwork, it seemed. “Robbie, no,” he said, shaking his head. "As for Charlie, I’d try her office next door, between us and Boyd’s studio. She has a massive garage refit happening soon, so last I checked, she was in there getting things ready.”
The emphasis on his sister’s preferred name wasn’t lost on him. A sharp, jarring motion to his right caught his eye, and he saw something that really belonged in a space program somewhere.
“What the hell is that?” he demanded, ducking down low enough to see Robbie’s adoptee with his eyes glued on whatever was going on overhead and his fingers typing in a blur of speed.
“Naughty word, Daddy!”
Mason snickered at Levi’s slow blink. “It’s a gaming system courtesy of Robbie’s family. The damn thing is very addictive, though, and I haven’t told Brock that there’s a screen you pull down from inside the headset to cover your eyes that takes the game into 3D playing.”
Levi whistled. “I don’t even want to know how much that costs.”
“I know, and this Sectra table here is up there too,” Mason agreed, gesturing at the electronic display beside him. “But it certainly makes learning a lot more fun.” He tilted his head forward. “Isn’t that right, bunny?”
Bunny?
Maddy leaned into Levi’s leg, but she was grinning ear to ear when she nodded. “I wanna be a vert when I grow up,” she declared, looking up at him.
“Vet, baby,” Mason corrected. “We’re vets. Sounds like “bet’ and ‘get’ and ‘set’.”
“Vet,” Maddy repeated.
“There ya’ go. Step one is getting the name right.” He glanced up at Levi, his cheeky grin on full display. “Step two is getting Daddy to save up for the rest of his life to pay for the classes.”
“I hate you,” Levi whisper-smirked, and Mason pursed his lips in a cocky air-kiss.
Still shaking his head, Levi waved at Mason and left the room, leading Maddy through the kitchen and living room and into the hallway outside. For so many years, his baby brother and their friends had crushed themselves into that ninth-floor horror show, and no amount of pleading from everyone would budge Luke. Not pressure from their parents nor peer guilt from his brothers, who refused to bring their families over to the cramped space.
Charlo—Charlie was the only one who visited regularly, and at the time, he’d put it down to her being skinny, single with no kids, so she could squeeze into whatever gap she found. He knew who she was really visiting now, and Robbie had better be ready for the mother of all guilt trips coming from the family to make an honest woman of their sister. Nascerdios descended or not, he’d be a dead man if he broke her heart.
Thinking about his little brother’s relationship with all these men, it was like Luke knew the payoff was just around the corner. People like them didn’t live like this.
Well, Maverick kind of did, but he’d worked hard for what he had and could rattle off his list of sporting injuries to prove it. Robbie and Sam had simply taken a running dive off the world’s highest diving platform and landed in the kind of wealth the rich and shameless could only dream about.
Luke—Lucas was lucky in a different way. Yes, his friendship with Robbie and Sam had certainly opened the right doors financially, but what Levi had seen of Boyd’s work yesterday, the big guy was well on his way to becoming his own type of rich; much like Mav did for his family. And like Marley, Lu—ucas wouldn’t have to work a day again in his life if he didn’t want to. (Though he had just made detective and loved his job, so Levi couldn’t see him quitting anytime soon.)
He knocked on the closed door. “Come in,” Charlie called, proving Mason right. And like Mason, she was sitting behind a desk covered in paperwork with a phone cradled against her shoulder.
“Aunty Charlotte, we’re hungry!” Maddy declared, and Levi closed his eyes to hide from his sister’s evil chuckle.
“Well, we can’t have that, sweetie,” she said, and he heard the phone click as it was dropped onto the receiver. "Daddy gets very grumpy when he’s hungry.”
“It’s not the only reason he gets cranky,” he said, opening one eye a slit to give his baby sister the stink eye.
Charlie cackled and slid out from behind her desk. “C’mon. Robbie has your breakfast all ready for you in Voila.”
“We didn’t want to start going through things and guessing what we could eat,” Levi explained as they backtracked to the main apartment.
“That’s fine. Grab a seat—any seat,” she said, gesturing to the line of kitchen barstool chairs as she moved through the living room. She headed around the island and over to the box under the window without checking if they had.
Levi wasn’t thrilled about the height of the barstool chairs off the floor. “Do you have a belt or something I could use to tie Maddy in?”
Charlie swung around to him. “Oh! Oh, yeah! Hold on.” She slipped around the island and down her side of the apartment, coming back from her room with the kind of square booster seats that could be found in a restaurant. “Robbie ducked out and got this for her this morning.”
Levi scratched his head as the booster was attached to the second chair along the front of the island. “Where’d he get that from at this hour?”
Charlie looked at him derisively. “This is Robbie, bro. You know he’s got connections all over the place.”
It killed Levi not to ask for more details, but given it was probably either connected to the Nascerdios or, more likely, a wealthy former client in the city that still looked favourably upon Robbie, he hadn’t wanted Maddy to overhear the specifics of the latter. Too many times, his little girl had asked Robbie about different ‘gifts’ he’d been given by clients and how she had wanted to do whatever he did to get presents like that. ‘Over my dead body’ had been his mental declaration.
Maddy was pulling on his boxers. “Up, Daddy,” she said, holding her hands over her head for him.
Levi lifted her into the seat, and then buckled her in. In the meantime, Charlie went back to that wooden box, lifting the lid. “Robbie has this gift with food, so assume everything in the place is for you to eat, because it probably is.”
“Not everything,” Levi countered at Maddy’s wild squeal of delight. He gave her hand a firm squeeze. “Do not take anything without asking, young lady, or you’ll be in big trouble.”
“But Daddy…”
“It’s Daddy’s call, Maddy,” Charlie said, backing his play. She turned, holding a plate with two fist-sized Minnie Mouse-shaped waffles (the bow between the ears made it Minnie) with some type of white marshmallow fluff spread across them and a honey drizzle that drew perfect facial features on each. “Here’s breakfast for one cute-as-a-button Dobson,” she said with a flourish, sliding the plate in front of Maddy and pulling out a children’s stubby fork from the cutlery drawer.
“It’ll have to be cut u—” The words died in Levi’s throat as Maddy stabbed the nearest piece, and it broke into a small, bite-sized piece that Maddy happily popped into her mouth.
“Imma bi’ ’irl,” she said, in and around her food.
Levi tapped her nose. “Big girls don’t talk with their mouths full, Peaches.”
When he glanced at Charlie, she’d gone back to the box and returned with a dinner plate of fluffy scrambled eggs on two pieces of toast with cheese and bacon, and three sausages cut almost in half longways on the side. She nodded at the seat beside Maddy, then slid the plate into the empty spot at the end. “Siddown, bro.”
He might have whimpered a little on the first bite as Charlie went and poured them both a glass (technically, Maddy got a plastic tumbler) of citrus juice (not orange), leaving the jug on the bench between them. “Help yourselves to as much juice as you want. Even if you wipe this whole jug out, there's plenty more.”
“This is really awesome, Charlie. Thanks.”
Charlie placed her hand on her brother’s shoulder as she moved around the island into the hallway. “Anytime, Levi. But now I’ve gotta love you and leave you. There’s a mountain of work to get through in my office, so are you good here?”
“Totally. Thanks again, sis.”
As she walked out the door, Maddy held out a piece of her waffle to him. “Try?”
Waffles were usually too sweet for his blood, but this was the game he’d set up with her a long time ago to make her at least attempt to eat new foods. He couldn’t very well expect her to eat what he wanted her to if, now and again, he didn’t reciprocate the motion.
The honey and marshmallow whip (which tasted nothing like the jar-bought type) melted into the perfectly heated/not-too-hot waffle, giving it a sweet crunch as if it had just come out of the waffle iron. His surprise must have been written all over his face, for Maddy giggled, and he grinned. “That’s yummy.”
“Mmmm-hmmm,” she hummed, just as he always had when a new food passed the initial taste test.
[Next Chapter]
* * *
((All comments welcome. Good or bad, I’d love to hear your thoughts 🥰🤗))
I made a family tree/diagram of the Mystallian family that can be found here
For more of my work, including WPs: Angel466 or an index of previous WPS here.
FULL INDEX OF BOB THE HOBO TO DATE CAN BE FOUND HERE!!

05/05/24 107.4 kg
12/05/24 104 kg
On Friday 03 May 2024 a FB Spam message catches my eye from MedExpress about several products including Mounjaro (MJ), the latest GLP-1 agonist. This offers benefits for NIDDM and weight loss and intuitively feels like something right for me. I read a little about it and complete their online questionnaire. Shortly afterwards I decide to order it. £149 for a month’s supply seems good value to me. The side effect profile looks good and my risk of a thyroid tumour which the lab rats got doesn’t feel very high! I do nevertheless note the things to keep an eye on for the weeks ahead. Later that day they ask me for proof of ID and a head to toe full length Selfie to confirm I am as obese as I say I am. Taking a full length Selfie proved logistically difficult but the large upstairs mirror saved the day. I am pleased that they take their Clinical Governance seriously having previously chaired the Trust’s CG Committee and my confidence in the online medication provider increases. Of note some online platforms confirm a minority of people who want to take these drugs for a couple of weeks before their summer holiday to shed a few pounds.
Royal Mail Special delivery arrives early on Saturday morning and I decide I will take my first dose on Sunday. Gabi and I share our dinner on Saturday and we enjoy sharing a nice bottle of red wine. I have had an interesting relationship with alcohol for most of my life, drinking more than was good for me. I have no idea what impact MJ will have on that but I am curious to find out.
First thing Sunday I weigh myself. I decide to weigh myself once a week to keep an objective record of my weight loss. Whilst I am hopeful of a number of health benefits, weight loss is top of the list. I don’t initially have a specific goal in mind but weighing in at 107.4 kg it is clear that I have plenty to lose although I am pleased to note I don’t feel under any pressure to have to lose it quickly or by a specific date. The clinical trials with MJ quote data up to 72 weeks and that helps set a realistic idea that this will take many months as a minimum.
The starting dose is low at 2.5mg which I inject in to my ample belly easily and with no pain. The instructions are clear and come with some helpful diagrams which allow me to inject myself with confidence. That might sound odd being a doctor by training. Two thoughts come to mind. Firstly I don’t recall ever giving a SC injection to a patient let alone myself. Secondly I want to get it right; a natural anxiety I suspect many people have when they undertake a new adventure and especially when it is one of great importance to them.
The first thing I notice is an almost immediate suppression of my appetite. I no longer feel hungry. Can this be possible I ask myself? This kicked in within an hour or so of my injection. The doctor in me wonders if this is a Placebo effect. Surely it can’t work that quickly? I quickly drop this thinking and simply embrace my gratitude for a new perspective on things and accepting that I am not hungry is all that matters to me.
I am pleased to report that not feeling hungry continued for the next five and a half days. On Friday evening before dinner I started to feel hungry for the first time that week. Nothing serious, just a healthy “normal” hunger which didn’t overwhelm me or tempt me to snack on my old favourites such as cheese or bread and butter peanut. No this was just an acknowledgment that it was time to eat something and I was glad when dinner was ready an hour or two later. A similar thing happened on Saturday evening and again this passed peacefully without any drama.
The second thing I have noticed all week is how quickly I feel full once I start eating. I am eating approximately half of my usual portion and if and when I have put more food on my plate than I need I have chosen to leave it. Significantly this again has been effortless, natural and has not attracted any conditioned thinking about wasting food, the starving children of the world or what by long deceased grandmother might have to say on the matter. My diet hasn’t changed radically and was always healthy. Everything is cooked fresh, very little processed food and very little sugar. I just ate too much before. I never had an off switch. MJ seems to have moved that internal switch for me and for that I am again very grateful. Are some people’s brains wired differently?
As an illustration of this Gabi wanted a BBQ on Saturday night. The menu consisted of Wagyu beef burgers, grilled halloumi, grilled avocado, grilled sweetcorn and vegetable kebabs. I cooked the dinner and we sat outside in some welcome sunshine. Despite being good beef, I found the meat greasy and unappetising so I left half of it. I had already decided not to have a bread roll. I enjoyed the avocado, some vegetables and one piece of halloumi. A few bites of the sweetcorn was enough. I was full and just stopped eating. There was left over cheese. I can assure you that has never happened before!
Another thing I have noticed is the sensation of feeling bloated, even after eating what for me are small portions. In reality my belly has already begun to shrink but nevertheless the sensation is there. That agin seems to have helped with my portion sizes as I feel physically full quickly as well as emotionally satisfied. Feeling full most of the time including for example when I wake up has meant I have been eating less often. Typically that has meant eating twice a day, usually a late morning brunch and then dinner around 6-7. I have found myself drawn to a high protein, low carb diet with lots of fresh fruit and vegetables, seeds and nuts. On the odd occasion I was a little hungry mid afternoon, a few raw nuts or a piece of fruit hit the spot nicely. In general though my desire to snack has gone. I used to have a habit of wandering in to the kitchen for no apparent reason. I would literally catch myself in there looking for something to eat. I wasn’t hungry and sometimes I don’t remember how I ended up there but before I knew it another slice of cheese and bread with peanut butter would have been cut and quickly eaten. The aimless kitchen grazing has thankfully gone too.
Many people on the forums I have read talk about the absence of “food noise.” I don’t know what they mean by the term but I can guess. My own experience is that I no longer think about food. A ridiculous amount of mental energy was previously spent on all things food related. That is no longer the case. The internal chatter has gone. A second benefit for me is the lack of “alcohol noise.” I am not thinking about alcohol which again could and did occupy far too much bandwidth. I am curious to see how this develops. I haven’t committed to going alcohol free again at the moment but given how little I am eating, I wonder when a nice glass of wine is offered will I say yes? If so how will it taste, how much will I drink and crucially will it counteract the MJ and increase my appetite for food in general and/or the foods I am no longer interested in such as cheese?
Put more simply, having no food or alcohol noise has allowed me to live an even bigger percentage of my life with a quiet mind and beautiful feelings.
A quick note on side effects. Basically none. A slight change in bowel habit but nothing worthy of comment.
My relationship with food has changed. My relationship with my body feels different. My appetite feels very different to the extent that sometimes I have had to remember to eat. For the first time I can recall, food is just a thing in my life. It no longer has a hold over me, it is not bestowed with special powers it is a fuel to keep me alive and crucially I am drawn to the foodstuffs I know are good for me not simply because that’s what every Sunday newspaper tells me but because my own Wisdom and intuition guides me every day, moment by moment.

Just got done building in the Qube 500 Flatpack black edition, very pleasant experience.
Here is my review in bullet points. Then tips on building in the sucker as bullet points, and finally suggestions addressed to CoolerMaster (henceforth "CM") in, you guessed it, motherflippin' bulletpoints.

Review

1. Instructions: The written instructions were not great. Had that "draw the rest of the owl" energy to them. The order of the steps in the guide were all over the place for no reason. Please reassign the Extraterrestrial who writes your manuals to other projects. I feel this whole experience could be optimized and dialed in further. Maybe a number system or a colour code. Maybe CM can do a collab with Ikea and have their people help out. My body is ready for blue/yellow cases.
   
2. Flatpack concept: I really love the flatpack case concept; it's a few tweaks away from being great, and it has the potential to become the new standard for budget and mid-range cases. I really hope CM continues with this concept. Fundamentally, it's just 12 screws. 4 in the back, 4 in the front, 2 for the top and 2 for the bottom. All attached to the central Motherboard tray. Really hard to mess up.
   
3. Packaging: very high quality. The diagrams on the interior were not helpful. I think it was missing an overall diagram illustrating that this was packaged in layers, and you were expected to assemble layer by layer. I mean, I figured it out quickly, but a piece of paper at the top announcing what was going to be happening would have been great.
   
4. Case design elements: Lots of fluff text stamped everywhere on the case itself as well, text written about how each panel is steel, or that the glass is glass. We get it CM. The materials are made of materials
   
5. Cooling: It comes with 1 fan which, if that's all the cooling you use, is not going to be enough if its a gaming rig. I do wish an extra fan was included, I associate 1 case fans with budget cases, and this is definitely not budget feeling or priced. I added a few fans cannibalized from the old case, so no big deal.
   
6. Screws: I really appreciate that there was only one size of screws. That was a nice touch. Please only ever do this going forward for all the stuff you make. Give a raise to the person who came up with that idea. The inclusion of only silver coloured screws with the black case was dissapointing. What a weird corner to cut.
   
7. Extras: I really wish I could have bought extra accessories, attachments, panels or parts for the Qube when I ordered it. I understand from the promo materials that it's designed to play nice with 3D printing to some extent, but a modular design BEGS for a part catalogue for customization. The Macaron edition, with its extra cosmetic panels, is a good first step, but those should be available separately too. This case badly needed more options. This could be a flagship product for you guys, if the logistics can keep up with an initial marketing push.
   
8. Radiator Bracket: Without a mesh side panel for the left of the case I'm not sure I understand the point of the hinged radiator bracket. It's certainly not providing much in the way of sturctural integrity and without a flow through for air, why bother? Unless the case can be modded to switch the panels? I read nothing about that in the documentation provided and all the promo pics show it behind the glass panel. Weird. Thankfully it's removeable. If panels can be flipped and moved around, please indicate it more clearly. If they can't, well, why not?
   

Tips and tricks

My specific build was a "put lipstick on a pig" kind of project. Basically a case swap for an older system to make it re-sellable. The construction quality of this thing bumped a budget-looking system to premium-looking. Very happy with the result.

1. PSU positioning: My pig uses a non-modular ATX PSU. I was very apprehensive as the GPU option I wanted to put in, a 3070, was "too long" technically speaking and although I had a smaller PSU available, I did not want to swap it given the price point I'm going for with this build.
   Thankfully the GPU went in with room to spare. How? Turns out one of the pros of a fully non-modular PSU is all the cables come out in one area and so the spot where PSU connectors would normally interfere with a long GPU is totally clear and Cooler master had a channel just waiting there to route the PSU cables. See here.
   After testing, even if I would have placed the PSU in the lowest mounting bracket offered by the case (for water cooling), there would have been room for a longer GPU with this PSU configuration. Very cool!
   
2. Cable Management: Given that there is plenty of room behind the motherboard tray for cable management and plenty of tie-down points, the Qube turned out to be fantastic for cable management even with all the extra PSU cabling I had to deal with (my Pig also uss a 2.5 SSD drive too). Overall it looks much neater than I expected despite the unshrouded PSU situation. Honestly this might be the thing that surprised me the most about the case. It looks really clean. Granted I did a lot of the cable management as I went, BEFORE the step where CM suggests doing a bit of cable management (lol).
   I really disliked how unhelpful CM's instructions were in this regard. I did all of this out of experience, but I could see new builders getting frustrated. This case has plenty of room to cable manage when disassembled, and it in fact a pretty pleasant experience, but you really need to be diligent and ask yourself at every step what can you tidy up at that point.
   
3. Cooling: A Thermal Right Peerless Assassin 120 SE fits and has plenty of clearance even with the radiator bracket. Sucking in fresh air will be challenging however.
   I mounted fans to the panels as I installed them and spent a good amount of time routing motherboard cables prior to having the side panels locked in to help with airflow and clear obstructions. I used U cable adapters for the GPU's power connectors to keep them flat and out of the way and used black electrician tape to bundle and clean up hanging connectors here and there as much as possible.
   Ultimately, I placed the PSU in the highest bracket as I wanted space for a front fan and airflow. As a result of the PSU situation, I was able to fit a 140 mm fan in the front of the case with no obstruction, as well as another fan at the bottom close to the front's fan, creating a corner intake area. I added two top 140mm fans as well and kept the case's back 120 mm fan.
   
4. Future layout options: I could probably have 3 X 120 mm fans at the bottom of the case, although I'm leaning towards instead getting a PCIE riser cable to vertically mount the GPU. I think it will look nicer and give more room for the air to move diagonally. Based on my rough estimates it should not interfere with the bottom fan I already installed and CM includes an adapter to reorient the slots at the back. This layout possibility was unexpected (as I would have gotten a PCIE riser otherwise). This computer will look much nicer than I expected.
   
5. Power On: Don't forget to switch on the PSU before wrapping up. That said, two screws are between you and lifting the top panel if you did forget so don't worry too much about it.
   
6. Back Fan Cable: The included fan's connector cable position can interfere with the back panel's attachment (it gets squeezed in). I suggest fully routing the cable preemptively before screwing that in.
   
7. Hook up all the Mobo's connectors before screwing the panels together: I suggest routing and connecting anything and everything that latches on to the Motherboard as soon as you can. I'd route the PSU cables before actually attaching the PSU to the case as well, just in case you need to plug and unplug things for cable routing purposes. Once everything is in, especially with a chonky aircooler, it's incredibly difficult to access anything on the Motherboard. Very happy I'm selling this system rather than upgrading it, lol. Accessing the GPU release thingy is a nightmare on a cheaper motherboard. If you do need to do that, remove the bottom panel completely and slide a chopstick under there to press it.
   
8. Fan/RGB connectors: If you go with a Front-Bottom Pull to Top-Back Push airflow configuration, be mindful of the layout of the fan power connectors on your motherboard. You might need a fan controller. Same story with RGB connectors.
   

Suggestions for CM

1. Screw screws: Given the thickness of the panels, a snap system of some kind could have been used instead of screws altogether. A screwless flatpack case... maybe a collab with Lego instead? I'd love to connect the case panels lego style via overlapping panels touch points. If you added lego style texture to different parts of the case the amount of buzz you'd get on social media from people building little worlds in their case would absolutely be worth the hassle.
   
2. Side Panel Cowardice: Very disappointed that there is no left mesh side panel option and just glass. I feel the radiator bracket was included for that use case, but someone at CM chicken'ed out midway through production and here we are, with a useless bracket and a fragile glass panel.
   The glass panel stands out like a sore thumb considering the rest of the case is built like a Tank. Without that glass panel the amount of packaging and therefor the size of the flatpack itself could have been significantly shrunk down further which would have been fantastic. Really a missed opportunity here.
   
3. Give me diversity or documentation (ideally both): Although I appreciate all the different configurations you present outright (air, water, test bench), making side panels interchangeable (left/right) and allowing the front panel to be reversable (top/down) so that the IO is properly oriented for a side build (with feet that can be latched to the side panel), would have been better. Is it possible? I don't know! I did not see any mention of that in the confusing documentation you provided me. If these things ARE possible, then better documentation is necessary.
   
4. Simpler core design, more options: The interior motherboard tray is a bit overengineered. A simpler design could help lower the cost of the case and probably make it easier for you to make. CM could make fancy layouts still possible, by selling optional mobo trays, panels and parts that are compatible with a fundamentally simpler primary design. I think the "Qube 600 / Qube CM X Ikea / Qube CM X Lego / whatever the next iteration is going to be called" should have a much simpler design and instead feature a robust catalogue of optional panels and parts for customization.
   
5. Cable free cutouts: If you insist on overengineering your interior motherboard tray, then the Qube series would be a prime candidate for some of those new "cable-free motherboards" with the cables facing backward that require special cutouts.
   
6. Centre motherboard tray, flipped GPU, wait, did I just invent the Micro-Qube?: Alternatively, including a PCIE riser cable to allow the mounting of the GPU behind the motherboard tray would allow for a shorter tower and the now centred motherboard tray could provide more structural rigidity. "Bottom-Top" or "Side" airflow would be necessary but it would look killer. Maybe that could be the basis of a SFF "M-Qube" design?
   
7. Your hotdog moment: If you are going to include only 1 fan. Can it be nicer? This fan does not make me want to even bother looking at CM fans for the rest of the build. If you cut corners on your case with this fan, what corners are you cutting with your case fans? Think beyond the case for a moment. If you provide consumers with a super amazing fan or two in your cases, with a fairly unique design would that not lead to consumers buying more of the same fans to match? If it's only one fan, sure, swapping that out is doable, but if you include 2 or 3 of those with each case, then swapping all those out feels wasteful. Much easier to just add to them. Especially if they perform well.
   Consider this your Costco Hotdog. Include great fans. Hell, if you want to guarantee people pick your fans, use a bigger form factor (180 mm and 200 mm) If you design them unique enough, you are basically forcing people to buy into your fan ecosystem since there's almost no competition to begin with at those sizes.
   
8. Listen to the Bees: Why is the pattern of a case made by CM, a company with a hexagon as it's logo, circles rather than a grid of hexagons?
   Have you guys not received the memo? Hexagon is the bestagon.
   You need to leverage the competitive advantage you have in this area of geometry and leverage it hard. Across from me now sits the Lian Li 216. You know what I see at the back of it? Lots and lots of CM logos? Why? Because, they paid attention in geometry class and know it's the most efficient design to minimise waste in a pattern. Hexagons = better airflow. CM, wacha doin' baby. This should be YOUR thing.
   You could even integrate hexagons into your IO or better yet, integrate your IO into the hexagon design of your cases. Your case buttons are okay, but you need to do better. Go. Wild. With the motherboard cutouts of the motherboard tray, the screw heads, the included fan(s), if you can shape it like a hexagon, do it. OWN THAT SHAPE!
   I PROMISE you nobody will complain. This is a no-brainer. Come on guys...
   

Conclusion

Anyway, I'll be waiting for your request to sign off to you all the rights to all the good ideas I've provided you today, accompanied by a fat check or a custom made system of equal value featuring lots of hexagons. 🐝
You're welcome.
Now please go redesign the Hyper 212 Evo. ThermalRight has stolen your budget crown and you need to fire back with a dynamite value proposition...
Might I interest you in a hexagon-shaped radiator and fan setup? The CM Hexacooler? You know, to launch your new series of hexagon shaped fans. The world is ready CM, do it.
(T.L.;D.R.) Oh yeah, the case, ahem, 8/10. Better than expected, but still short from greatness.

I have a 2017 Chevy Sonic premier with an IOA radio code. I'm trying to install an aftermarket android radio into. I bought a PAC PR5-GM51 and GM52 wire harness that said it fits all 2017 Sonic models. My concern that I can't find a wiring diagram anywhere online for it. I hooked up (without supplying power) the harnesses and lots of colors don't match. And some lead to nothing. Is this ok. I included some pictures of what the wires look like from the OEM harness to the aftermarket corresponding pin. Because I can't find access to the original diagram, I just want to make sure that I don't fry anything in the car. I'm mostly concerned about the grey plug because the brown one seems to add up according to the blue pen minus the ground. If that's need I can always add a pin and ground it to the body.
Also the harness says it retains OnStar but I never use that anyway. Any help is appreciated because my local car audio shop says there is no possible stereo upgrades for this car, but I have found a couple on YouTube that are in Spanish and I unfortunately do not speak the language.