Coordinate paper printouts

Ik many of you gave CUET, but like bro this was so bullshit.
The INvigilator for my maths and physics exam was such a bitch and was talking shit to every person, mf she was scolding an autistic child because he couldn't speak properly. Like he has the certificate and all saying that he was "slightly" autistic, and slow at responding because of some problems.
And not just that, the poor management of time by NTA themselves, fym I get my admit card at 5 in the morning, where am I supposed to get it printed out? Thankgod I was a delhi guy so I had my 15th exams cancelled and my physics paper was from 3 pm so I had time in the morning to get the printouts.
Moreover, most of my friends who gave english and chem exams on 15th were saying how poorly all the staff worked, they barely got 20 mins to complete a 45 min paper.
I just think, they are already making a new paper for the delhi centres for chem and english, I hope they listen to us kids and conduct these exams again for everyone on 29th.
TLDR: FUCK CUET FUCK NTA, RECONDUCT EXAMS ON 29th

From a non-Western country's perspective (bolded because context), Education majors are not practical. They shouldn't require a typical degree like other fields such as pharmaceutical studies or accounting. Instead, they should match student teachers with experienced teachers to learn using a more hands-on approach.
When I was a teacher, I had to take up teaching courses in order to get a teaching certificate. I also attended Professional Learning Community (PLC) sessions weekly.
For teaching courses, you spend all your time writing papers about pedagogical approaches which you can google up and read on your own. You also spend weeks learning that having a good relationship with students is important (which is common sense and you don't need research and academic journals to prove that). Then you get introduced to jargons (again, not practical) active learning, blooms taxonomy, differentiation, and get scrutinised on how you write your lesson plans. Most of these things are dragged out longer than they should (writing a rubric = 1 full module?)
For PLCs, I think the subject coordinators who conducted these PLCs were doing it for the sake of promotion (they aim to be head of departments) or KPIs, and all the information given was often dragged out (15 min talk dragged into a 2 hours speech) and insubstantial.
When I was teaching, everything I learnt was maybe 10-20% of my job scope. I ended up learning everything else on the job. The inefficiency of it all irked me so much and eventually I left.
Teachers are amazing, and I respect those who stay and continue to make a larger-than-life impact on students. But GOSH, those who have done well in their education majors may not always be the best teachers because I have seen teaching assistants who can do so much better.

First off, congrats to everyone for the past application cycle! No matter what your outcome was, it's a big accomplishment to have gone through the whole process. I'm a non-trad who was accepted to Queen's this year, on my 2nd application cycle. I will be 27 when I start this Fall. It feels surreal and I always told myself I'd write a post about my journey if this day ever came - and here we are.
I didn't decide to apply to med school until after I finished undergrad, and while doing my research, I always wished I could read/hear perspectives from others with my background. Even though everybody's path will be different, I hope that my story can provide some insight (or even hope) for other non-trad applicants out there.
Before we start, here are my stats because that's important:

• cGPA, OMSAS: 3.53
• wGPA, UBC: ~85%
• MCAT: 515 (127/129/130/129)
• Casper: 4th
• IP: BC and ON

I'll go in chronological order, briefly describing some of the major events that led me to today, starting from high school. Please ask me any questions in the comments - (almost) nothing is off limits :)
TLDR: I was a software engineer who quit after a year to go to grad school and pursue medicine. It took me 4 years from when I decided to pursue this to getting accepted at a Canadian school. I did a Masters in stats and applied 2 times. My biggest takeaway is to do a lot of what you are passionate about, do it well, and take it far (for me, that was teaching and research).
Some demographics:

• My parents and I immigrated to Canada from Asia when I was 3
• I grew up in the GTA and did undergrad in Ontario
• I'm the first person in my family to pursue med school. My immediate family and I are the only people in our whole family who live outside of Asia, and nobody in my parents' network of family friends is in healthcare either.

High school, 2011-2015: I was always interested in medicine as a kid, but math was always my favourite subject. I applied to several science and math programs, and was choosing between Western Med Sci and Waterloo Math. I did not apply to Mac Health Sci and looking back, I'm not sure why (perhaps a sign that I didn't believe in myself). I ended up choosing Waterloo Math and giving up on the medical school route in grade 12, for a few reasons: the math program had 6 co-op terms, meaning I'd graduate with 2 full-time years of job experience, and I wasn't particularly good at biology and didn't have strong reasons for pursuing medicine back then. Med school also seemed like an impossible goal, especially since I didn't have any mentors in the field.
Undergrad, 2015-2020: This was honestly a fun time for me. I double-majored in stats and CS and I did 6 co-ops, 5 of which were in software engineering roles. I had originally planned to do actuarial science, but quickly saw the earning potential in the tech industry and made it my goal to get a job at a big tech company. A lot of personal stuff happened during this time as well that affirmed my decision pursue a software engineering career. One part of it was that I didn't want my parents to worry about me, and being able to show them that I was able to do well for myself in tech felt really good.
Halfway through my co-ops, I realized that I wasn't feeling the most fulfilled in software roles, but management roles also didn't appeal to me. I didn't really take the time to fully explore this feeling, and it was easy to put it away in light of the high income and getting to live in big cities for internships. Still, I did well in my co-ops and built up my software skills. After realizing that "grades don't matter for getting tech jobs", I let my grades slip. It wasn't until 4th year that I decided I wanted to keep the door open for grad school, and starting taking classes I liked and getting better grades. I graduated with an 82% average, with my grades all over the place (which I'd later learn was bad for calculating my OMSAS gpa lol).
Throughout undergrad, I still wanted to be involved in clubs and stuff, so here's a list of all my undergrad ECs. All these were only 4-8 months long.

• 1st year: I was a member and president of my first year residence council
• 2nd year: I was in a leadership position at the statistics club
• 3rd year: I was an event coordinator for co-op students in a city away from home
• also 3rd year: I was part of a club that builds software for non-profits

Another activity from undergrad that made it onto my application was a research project I did at one of my co-ops. It was in NLP and I worked on it even after finishing that coop term. It ended up taking 4 years to get published.
Full-time software engineering, 2020-2021: I signed a return offer from one of my co-ops, and had planned to move to Seattle in the summer after graduating to start working. But Covid changed all that. I moved back home with my parents in the GTA and worked at my software job remotely for the full year.
It was during this year that I was really feeling unfulfilled in my job, and did a lot of thinking about how I wanted my career to look. I started to remember that med school was something that I once wanted to do, and I also started reading/watching a lot of content from people in medicine with non-traditional backgrounds. My partner, who is also from Ontario, was accepted to an international med school, and many of our friends were also getting into schools in Canada around the same time, so this reaffirmed to me that it was actually possible. While working for the year, I made a plan to apply to grad school (academia would be my back-up) and take the MCAT. Here's what my 2020-2021 looked like:

• July: started full-time work
• December-January: wrote personal statements and applied to 5 Masters programs in biostatistics
• February-April: acceptances to Masters programs came in, and I was studying for the MCAT
• June: took the MCAT, scored 508, and told my manager that I'd be leaving by August to start grad school

During this year, I also wrote out a 3-year plan that included my masters and 2 application cycles. I wrote out what courses I would take to fulfill prereqs, which schools I would apply to each year, and what my back-up plan would be. I think this was important to do rigorously since it gave me a clear idea of which schools I was eligible for, and how much work it would take me to become eligible for the rest of them.
I will also add that this is a rather objective recount of my process that year. In reality, I completely recognized how insane it was to quit my job to go to grad school, and I'm super lucky that I was able to.
Grad school, 2021-2023: I moved to BC to start my Masters in statistics in August. This choice was partly to gain IP status in BC, but mostly, this was really the best program for me out of the schools I applied to. Even looking back now, I would have chosen this program even without the IP consideration.
Here's a breakdown of everything I did during the first year of my Masters:

• Started a new volunteering role (tutoring) right away. Still doing this today, almost 3 years later.
• Took a first year English class to fulfill the UBC requirement. Side note: it felt very odd being a 25-year-old in a class of 18-year-olds, but I did well in both classes probably because of being older. At first, I dreaded taking these classes since English was never my strong suit. But being older meant that I allowed myself to be truly curious about the topics being taught, and I treated it more as an experience to learn more about the world than to just check off some boxes.
• Took the MCAT again, at the end of my first year of MSc. I had already confirmed a supervisor by then, and thankfully she is/was incredibly supportive of my goals. I took it in June 2022 and got 515.
• TA'd stats courses throughout the year
• Started working on my thesis research with my supervisor

First application, 2022: I applied only to UBC for my first application cycle. In retrospect, I should have just applied broadly right away, but I didn't feel like I had enough references built up by then. And UBC doesn't require references unless you get an interview. I honestly had very high hopes of getting an interview this year, and was crushed to receive a rejection in December with an NAQ of 50-75. I thought that my application was unique, but upon reflection, I realized that the lack of volunteering and community service was a big gap in my application.
So here's a breakdown of everything I did in my second year of my Masters and beyond:

• TA'd stats courses throughout the year, and was the head TA for one of them (I think this showed leadership and commitment to teaching)
• Started another volunteering role at the food bank
• Took another first-year English course
• Continued my research with my supervisor
• Got offered (and started) a lecturer role for an undergrad course at the university, which was such an amazing opportunity. My supervisor helped me a lot with getting this position, since I TA'd for her one semester and she recommended me to the department. This was a class of 150, and I was also in charge of a few TAs. I ended up teaching this class 2 more times after this!
• Finished my Masters in August 2023
• Started working full-time as a biostatistician in September 2023
• A first-author paper I started working on during undergrad was accepted in Fall 2023. I had been working on this on-and-off for the past 4 years so it was incredible for the work to finally pay off!

Second application, 2023: This time, I applied to UBC and every school in Ontario that I was eligible for: Queen's and Mac. I was rejected by UBC pre-interview again. Same NAQ, and my total score didn't change. I was totally crushed and thought it was over for this year. I was very honest with myself about the Ontario applications - Mac was a total throwaway application and Queen's felt like a complete gamble. I was rejected from Mac pre-interview but one fateful day in January, I received an email from Queen's. It had a very generic "Application Status" subject line and I opened it fully expecting a rejection. I was totally shocked when it said I was invited for the MMI! And a few months later, I was also invited to the Panel.
Some of my thoughts and preparation for the interviews:
MMI - Aside from the usual resources that are posted here, I also took advantage of the following:

• Support system: I had a lot of support from my partner, who had gone through MMIs from non-Canadian schools, and many of my friends who were already in med school.
• Resources: I paid for a prep session on AcceptedTogether and had a positive experience there. I also used the BrightStudent question bank and although the questions were good, the explanations and overall experience were mid. But their YouTube video was extremely useful.
• Mindset: Throughout my whole MMI prep, I was honestly very interested in exploring each prompt, and I think this mindset was extremely beneficial for making my answers both unique and genuine. During my Masters, I also took a class that covered topics in social determinants of health, and I semi-regularly enjoy reading about current events in this area, so both of those pieces of background were super helpful for me.

Panel - I was so happy to receive a panel interview, and knew that I could not mess this up. I prepped with a few different friends of mine who were in med school, and another friend who was going through Ontario interviews too. Going in, I felt very prepared, and in the days leading up to it, I even felt like my answers were on autopilot and a bit over-prepared. So I really tried to relax and "be myself"/answer genuinely during the panel. The real panel felt quite cold - I didn't get any feedback from my interviewers, and was a bit thrown off by some of the questions. I was also cut off by the Kira Talent timer at the end, and didn't get to say goodbye or thank you. For the rest of the day, I ruminated on all my answers. The content of my answers felt somewhere between "why would I say that" and "just fine" and "great", but I was definitely feeling a bit bad about the whole experience.
Decision Week, 2024: That brings us to this week! In the week leading up to the decision, I flip flopped between "My panel hated me, there's no way I passed the vibe check" and "My answers were good, my MMI felt good, why wouldn't they accept me". I opened the email at 6am (Pacific time) with zero expectations - I truly had no idea what was waiting for me on the other side. The first word was "Congratulations!" and I didn't read much farther than that before I started celebrating :)
So that's it. I told a lot of people I work with, my Masters supervisor, my parents, and my friends, and it felt amazing to deliver this good news. My closing thoughts about my whole journey are that even though I do think my application was great, I still got incredibly lucky. At any point in the process, I could have gotten an undesirable outcome, and there was nothing I could do to control that (other than my efforts prior). I also relied a lot on my support system, and was so lucky to have had + made friends who are in med school or were practising already.
I just feel so grateful to be starting this Fall, and I'm happy to say that my high school self would be in absolute disbelief if she could see where I am today. That statement is a sign to me that I'm on the right path, and I'm just so excited to be starting this long, hard career that is medicine.
If you've made it to the end, thank you for reading!! If you can relate to any part of my journey and have questions, please send me a comment or DM - my inbox is always open.

Hi,
I'm currently a rising sophomore at a mid-tier LAC. It's arguably the best college in the state, but I'm not challenged enough. I generally enjoy it, but I wish I had far more resources at my disposal, a better school spirit, and more inspiring/engaging professors with bigger class sizes. I also just generally dislike the aesthetics of the place and find myself constantly feeling isolated by its smallness + horrible weather. I was accepted to UMich and UWashington Honors in HS but couldn't afford to attend.
I'm intent on pursuing law school or at the very least grad school for sociology and/or political science. My current school has a good polisci dept., which is what I'm majoring in, but my heart really lies within sociology. The department here is just... barren, to say the very least.
Stats:
HS and college GPA both 4.0 (valedictorian); 34 ACT (35 superscore); LGBTQ+, female, Arab and white, will be turning 21 in fall 2025; 7 AP's (small HS) with all 4's and 5's
Very talented essay-writer. my essays are good, ok??? i dont wanna sound arrogant lol
Major: polisci but will likely double in sociology or switch altogether; interested in family law and women's rights law
Hook:
I have a very clear vision of what I would like to do, and my EC's reflect that. As a result of my personal experiences with various forms of abuse throughout my life, I am committed to pursuing systemic change when it comes to curtailing the effects of domestic abuse and violence especially as it pertains to families. I am incredibly passionate about women's rights as they pertain to the law and policy.
EC's (not gonna go too in detail to avoid doxxing; some of these are in-progress but will be done by the app deadline, will switch out different ones depending on school):
Resource referral / phone receptionist at women's DV shelteadvocacy nonprofit. Related to legal aid, family law, social work, mental health, and of course women's advocacy. Generally serves an underserved area of the city I live in.
Legal internship with NGO that specializes in serving DV survivors. Worked alongside current law school students to research protective orders across countless districts in order to seek a means of reform for them, hoping to help remove the barriers that exist between victims and safety. Also did research to help the org connect to ally groups/professionals in the field.
Founded SA prevention and awareness student organization for my current school campus following a string of incidents that shook the community. Held info sessions, spread awareness via poster campaigns, held fundraisers for shelters, advocated for campus security to incorporate more means of reporting SA, etc.
-- also may run an unplanned pregnancy kit drive. I did a similar one in HS for foster kid birthdays
Founded NGO - website containing a registrar of local vetted resources and plans of action for victims of DV; doubles as a list of organizations/shelters to donate to
Edited legal professor's book
Volunteered as tutor for creative writing support with underserved elementary-age students my entire freshman year
Worked at student tutoring center as an appointment coordinator my entire freshman year
Founded HS GSA chapter, successfully achieved LGBTQ+ history inclusion in school curricula in Deep South private Christian HS (!!!) during peak Don't Say Gay times
College radio DJ
College debate team member, competed at regional level (hopefully national this year! we usually go!)
Femme-inclusive, female-empowerment-oriented acapella group member (college)
College first-year orientation leader
College paper staff member with featured articles
Published in school journal for several polisci/soc oriented papers
Ran a ~40k+ member online hobby community for several years in HS across multiple websites.
Misc. other stuff: volunteering in HS, very talented in performance and visual arts (ie Scholastic award for art in HS and theater competition success), state-level English competition awards, Spanish proficiency, HS student gov't, very dedicated to personal fitness/exercise
Interested in: UPenn (I am VERY interested in their sociology concentrations), Vandy, Cornell, Brown (my former dream school......need aid tho RIP), Georgetown, Columbia, Dartmouth, NYU, Northwestern, Rice, UChicago, Tulane (legacy but I don't think they care)...
Suggest more if you'd like. I'm open to LAC's but I want to live in the city. My current LAC is in a city, but it's too small and bubble-y. I wanna break out of the bubble!!
I'll also apply to HYPSM just in case. I have connections to HYSP, Penn, and Tulane of varying degrees lol (from family to former classmates).
Worries:
I don't have "impressive" EC's. I don't enjoy going out for big awards or competitions. Being a militant leader type on campus also irks me. I just do good work and things I enjoy. I try to be humble, so I often under-sell myself.
Thanks in advance!!

GCSEs are exhausting and I truly do not know how I'm still functioning.
In the last 2 weeks, I've left the house for non-exam purposes twice, and one of them was me going to the garden for the recycling bin. (To throw away printouts of a Physics paper that printed wrong.)
Like, my papers are going great. Wonderful, even. Almost scarily well. I loved today's Maths paper, and all I got from this Reddit was that it was horrific. But it doesn't feel good. I just can't shake the thought that all the effort I've put in over the past 2 years was for... 1 hour and 45 minutes?
I thought there would come this point, where it would all just click. Instead I'm trying to understand why I've tried this hard only to be overworked and burnt out haha (i need to go on a walk)

I understand at a base level what FSAs are for. You get to deduct X amount of dollars from your paycheck reducing your tax load.
But the more I use an FSA, the more I feel that while on paper it saves money, in reality it causes lots of work, lost money, and hands your money over to someone who is going to fight you to steal it.
Every claim I submit to my FSA is denied without a mountain of evidence that its a legitimate medical expense. After nearly 2 years with them, I still have certain medications prescribed by my doctor that the FSA argues is not FSA eligible because it's OTC.
Doctor appointment? Denied
MRI? Denied
Prescriptions? Denied
While I can eventually get the denial overturned, it requires coordination from the retailer, my insurance, and my doctor every time. I spend tens of hours a year trying to claw my own money back from my FSA. Last year I had over $250 confiscated because the claim deadline passed while they sat on my claims.
Has anyone else felt it just isn't worth the hassle to fund an FSA given how hostile they are? It seems impossible to extract your money without a lawyer.

Updated with autopsy results.
Morphew Case Map - Google My Maps - Barry's iPhone Data - Google My Maps - Barry's Truck Events - Google My Maps
August 5, 1994 – Suzanne Moorman marries Barry Morphew The Alexandria Times-Tribune Alexandria, Indiana 05 Jan 1994, Wed • Page 4
December 1999 – Barry and Suzanne Purchase 26040 Cal Carson Rd, Arcadia, IN This is the house where he dug a hole in the yard and buried everything he didn't want to move to Colorado. (AA ft 55 page 53)
November 2013 – Suzanne Inherits $208,000 upon the Passing of her Mother. MB provided documents that Suzanne inherited approximately $208,000 in 2013 at the passing of her mother.
August 2016 – Suzanne inherits $217,000 upon the death of a grandmother. Suzanne’s grievance list included multiple references to Barry controlling the finances.
April 12, 2018 – The Morphew’s Purchase 19057 Puma Path Barry and Suzanne Morphew purchase 19057 Puma Path for $1,575,000.
June 1, 2018 – The Morphews move to Colorado. (PH – Harris) SA Harris: Yeah, they moved in 2018. I believe they left around June 1st, 2018. to move to Colorado. So roughly a year and a half of the time is what Sheila originally said in that.
September 2018 – Suzanne sends “Howdy stranger” message to JL First contact since high school.
Fall 2018 – Libler’s daughter sees messages from Suzanne on his phone. Libler breaks it off.
Thanksgiving 2018 – Barry obsessive/possessive. While Suzanne was at the Oliver’s house, she had stepped away from her cell phone to use the restroom, and Barry tried calling her several times within a few minutes, then tried calling Sheila, then tried calling Darin.
Holidays 2018 – Suzanne finds Libler’s LinkedIn Page. Relationship Rekindled
January 2019 – The Mexico trip where Barry took Suzanne’s phone Mexico trip mentioned in the grievances list where Barry took Suzanne's phone.
February 11 – 14, 2019 – Suzanne in New Orleans with Libler Barry admitted to questioning Suzanne about the New Orleans trip, further evidence he suspected the affair.
April 2019 – Suzanne meets up with Libler in Indiana She does not see SO on this trip.
July 2019 – Suzanne and Libler meet up in Michigan Barry called SO while Suzanne was in MI visiting her fatheJL, wanting to know why Suzanne wasn't returning his calls.
September 2019 – Barry stalks Suzanne and Shelia Oliver, creeping through woods. Barry stalked Suzanne and Sheila at the Puma Path house in September 2019. This is upon his early return from a trip to Arizona.
October 2019 – Libler and Suzanne in Dallas Suzanne and Libler spend two nights at the Galleria.
September – November 2019 – Barry aggressively pursues KW around Salida. From the first time KW met Barry, she said it felt like "he was putting his tentacles out."
Holidays 2019 – Suzanne and Libler stop talking on the phone because she is afraid Barry will find out. They shift to more covert ways to communicate. Barry's second device makes its first appearance.
January/February 2020 – Suzanne in Florida, gets spy pen, sees Libler Suzanne in Florida, SO gives her the spy pen during this trip. Suzanne records a conversation with Libler on this trip.
Late February 2020 – Suzanne in Florida, sees father and Libler. Suzanne skips out on time with her father to see Libler. Barry goes to Florida.
March 2020 – Spy pen records argument between Suzanne and Barry. “It’s money. It’s about money.” “… I have lived for years being told how I should feel, how I should act, how I should look, what I should drink, what I shouldn’t drink, what I should put in my body, what I shouldn’t put in my body … ”
March 20, 2020 – Jekyll and Hyde text exchange between Suzanne and SO, MM2 suggests restraining order. "It’s Jekyl and Hyde again … Pretty much told him I can’t be healthy and stay in this."
March 22, 2020 – Spy pen records Barry listening to Forensic Files episodes, call with Suzanne on drive to Pueblo Coincidentally one of the episodes involved a woman "disappearing" after a bike ride.
April 21, 2020 – Messages between Suzanne and Libler “I want to be with you,” “I can only be me with you,” I love you,” “I need you.” “You know I was born to love you.”
May 4, 2020 16:05 – Barry makes 3 second outgoing call to Suzanne This was the first logged call in Barry’s phone to or from Suzanne since February 7, 2020.
May 5, 2020 – Suzanne drives MM2 to Gunnison Suzanne drives Macy to Gunnison, CO to meet MM1 for a road/camping trip through Utah and Idaho with MM1's best friend.
May 6, 08:44 – Suzanne sends MM2 a text “Good morning! I miss you already!”
May 6, 10:13 – Suzanne: “I’m done. I could care less what you’re up to and have been for years.” From 14:43 to 17:00 Barry replied, “When I’m dead,” “Going to see my savior,” and “This life on earth is a mear (sic) grain of sand compared to eternity.”
May 6, 2020 – 14:43 – From Barry to Suzanne: “I’m sorry if things went the way they did. I have a problem dealing with the way you accused me of hiding checks. If you think I’m as terrible of a person to hide our accounts and have ones you don’t know about you don’t know me. All I do is for you and the girls. All. When I'm dead, which won't be long, you guys will be taken care of. Please stop being angry. If I can control my hurt heart I think I can overcome your distant unlovingness toward me. Honey, I swear it's the hardest thing I've had to do. I love you I always will.”
May 6, 2020 – 15:51 – Barry to Suzanne: “I promise you were wrong about all the crazy thoughts about me. I have always been faithful. Always. Why would I ever want another when I'm married to the most beautiful, sweet, kind, loving, woman as you? Only a fool would stray from an angel like you.”
May 07, 2020 – Suzanne messages Libler about how magical past days had been. Barry wants a new truck. 16:43 - “Been studying all afternoon. I’m gonna bike now. I’ve got veggie soup on for supper.”
May 7, 2020 – SB puts new tires on Suzanne’s bike Bike mechanic was interviewed by law enforcement.
May 7, 17:13:52 – Barry Works Out at GD’s House Truck log files place Barry at GD's home at 5:13 pm.
May 7, 2020 23:00 – “I finally got the job” text from MM1 goes unanswered. Q (Lindsey): Anything on May 6th that didn’t seem normal? Was there a text from Mallory to Mr. Morphew? A (Grusing): I believe that’s the night of May 7th. Mallory, Macy, and their friend Holly are out on a trip towards Utah and Mallory is sending pictures to both Suzanne and Barry but I was ... Read more
May 08, 07:03 – The Grievance List: Suzanne’s phone backs up a list of 50 reasons why she wanted to leave marriage on “Notes” Not safe alone with you. Can’t be trusted - Oppressive - Slam on brakes when angry - Threaten to jump out of car - Gun ...
May 08, 08:43 – “I will continue to do your invoicing when you need to.” "When FBI Agents showed Barry these texts during interviews in 2021, he said he did not think Suzanne was serious."
May 08, 09:28 – Suzanne texts sister about Barry’s abuse. “It’s hard dealing with the harsh abrasiveness and having to show respect. He’s also been abusive, emotionally and physically. There’s so much … I went thru a period of acceptance and I feel more angry now. Anger at what I’ve allowed.”
May 08, 10:55 Barry: “I Love You, Suzanne.” “But, in the afternoon, it (the text fight) was like it never happened. She texted me back and it was just like, ‘Hey, what time are you coming home? Hey, this or that. Just pick this up or pick that up.'”
May 08, 13:18 – Barry texts Salida Stove and Spa about getting the hot tub fixed. "Asking when he could come out to the home."
May 08, 15:43 – Barry’s iPhone receives an SMS message associated with the unknown device This second device was first used on November 30,2019 and was associated with Barry’s iPhone 91 times since then, compared to 1,701 associations with the primary User ID since November 2019.
May 8, 19:06 – Moonlight Pizza and Phone Calls Barry convinces Suzanne to meet him at the Tailwinds site before going to pick up Moonlight Pizza together.
May 08, 21:04 – 20 Facebook friend requests, 3 men named “Jeff.” Barry’s lurking at the River. Barry was asked about his phone pinging down by the river during the Facebook posts on Friday night and asked if he was outside. Barry said, “I could have been. I don’t remember. I chase critters around the house all the time.”
May 09, 00:02 – Incoming call on Suzanne’s phone (PH CAST) Incoming call on Suzanne’s phone (PH CAST)
May 09, 02:07 – Outgoing call on Suzanne’s phone (PH CAST) 02:07 am outgoing call on SM’s phone (PH CAST)
May 09, 06:00 – Barry’s phone received call (PH CAST) 06:00 am BM’s phone received call (PH CAST)
May 09, 06:46 – Barry’s phone registered “Power On” Comes out of Airplane mode.
May 09, 07:19 – Barry’s cell received signal (PH) Barry’s cell received signal (PH)
May 09, 07:22 – 07:39 – Barry at “Tailwinds” worksite Barry’s phone registered locations at his “Tailwinds” work site near Poncha Springs.
May 09, 07:35 – Suzanne texting SO Discussing Sheila's daughters wedding on Sunday.
May 09, 08:00 – MG was with Barry working on the rock beach site until 10am(?). Gentile: “He said that he had to go make the wife happy – do some hiking or biking.”
May 9 – Morning – Suzanne messaging Jeff “He’s still wanting Arizona.”
May 09, 09:50 – Barry to Suzanne: Want to go on hike? *Text Exchange\* Barry to Suzanne: Want to go on hike?
May 9, 2020 – 11:14 – Suzanne received a second password reset message from Facebook Previous reset was while Barry was down by the river on the evening of the 8th.
May 09, 11:15 est. – Barry tells Morgan Gentile he could “bury a body” and it “would never be found.” Gentile: “He seemed stressed. He definitely seemed weird on Saturday.”
May 09, 11:55 – Dead Turkey Hunt or Barry Takes Down His Trail Cameras Barry said he was looking for a turkey that Mallory had shot previously with a bow, but they had never found.
May 09, 13:35 – Barry leaves home again. Checked on job at Kim Gyms
May 9, 13:40(?) – Suzanne texts Libler Guess who is alone again?
May 09, 13:46 – Barry and the backhoe After texting, Barry drove by TK's house to see the backhoe, but did not get back in touch to buy it. In 2018, Barry used a backhoe to dig a large hole in his front yard, fill it with items to include furniture, and cover it over, planting alfalfa on top.
May 09, 13:51 – 14:13 – Barry at DSI, replacing Bobcat blade He was wearing a blue t-shirt and khaki shorts.
May 09, 14:03 – Suzanne sends sunbathing pic to Libler, last proof of life. “Well, look at her. She’s obviously drunk. Look at her eyes. Do you know what drunk eyes look like?
May 09, 14:11 – Suzanne sends last LinkedIn message to Libler: “I’m on wa.” Libler sent response messages at 2:39PM, 2:46PM and 2:47PM that Suzanne did not answer.
May 09, 14:26 – Barry texts Suzanne, “Done headed back.” He texted Suzanne that he was done and was headed home.
May 09, 14:31 – Barry texted Suzanne, “Did you leave.” At 2:31 PM, Barry texted Suzanne, “Did you leave.”
May 09, 14:39 – Libler messages Suzanne, she does not respond. First unread. Messages from LinkedIn show they were talking about how Suzanne is in love with Jeff before she went missing.
May 09, 14:43 – Barry’s phone and F-350, per telematics, arrive at the Morphew residence. "The photo is shown in the courtroom, Suzanne smiling. Truck GPS coordinates show Barry’s truck goes into park at 2:43:59. Phone coordinates show he walks around the house. You can hear a pin drop in the courtroom as tension is high." - Carol McKinley, PH Tweet
May 09, 14:44 – Shooting Chipmunks? Barry had a .22 in the moments when Suzanne ceased the communicate with everyone she loved in the world. Shooting Chipmunks? Barry had a .22 in the moments when Suzanne ceased the communicate with everyone she loved in the world. (See: https://www.reddit.com/SuzanneMorphew/comments/17lfboz/barry_and_the_chipmunks_aa_excerpts/ )
May 09, 14:46 – Libler messages: “Hey … your weather looks great” Second unread. No response from Suzanne.
May 09, 14:47 – Jeff sends another messages to Suzanne with no response. Third unread. Jeff sends last message if the day to Suzanne with no response.
May 09, 16:00 – 17:30 – Defense says Barry was at Salida Stove and Spa Salida Stove and Spa's posted hours have the store closing at 2pm on Saturday. Telematics show Barry's truck in his garage during the time he was supposedly at Salida Stove and Spa.
May 09, 16:44 – Barry parks his truck in the garage. Barry claims to have been loading his truck and cleaning off his workbench. (See: https://www.google.com/maps/d/edit?hl=en&mid=1FSqlFRrywR8FkytAYkNM-bdSxvKVK5MP&ll=39.173623131314%2C-105.63244&z=8)
May 09, 17:33 – Barry’s truck system manually rebooted Barry attempted to disable the trucks GPS and SYNC features.
May 09, 18:40, 18:46 – SO sends two Snapchats to Suzanne that were never opened SO sends two Snapchats to Suzanne that were never opened
May 09, 21:25 – Barry’s truck goes into reverse, backs 96.8 feet down driveway Barry backs 96 feet out of the garage.
May 09, 22:17 – Barry’s Phone Exits out of Airplane Mode Barry's phone comes out of airplane mode at the Morphew residence.
May 10, 02:53 – Outgoing call on Suzanne’s phone Possible glitch.
May 10, 03:25 – 03:48 – Barry’s truck door opened and closed "SA Hoyland noted over eighty events involving the F350 during this timeframe."
May 10, 03:58 – Barry’s phone moves from home to near where Suzanne’s bike found 3:58 am BM cell moves from home to near 225/50 where bike found Carol McKinley PH Tweets (read from bottom tweet up): 431 am 5/10 Barry’s phone goes back into airplane mode at the his home. 5:37 am – morphew turns into buena vista & heads towards broomfield. 538 he texts his mom “happy ... Read more
May 10, 04:10 – 04:23 – Last Activity from Suzanne’s iPhone Sergeant Mullenax asked dispatch to ping the number given for Suzanne’s cell phone. Dispatch informed Mullenax that the cell phone appeared to be off and last known activity was at 4:23AM on the present date, with a general location about 11.5 miles west of a cell tower in Poncha Springs, CO.
May 10, 04:32 – Barry’s Phone Goes Back into Airplane Mode Barry's Phone Goes Back into Airplane Mode
May 10, 04:32 – 05:14 – Chasing Elk, or Staging Evidence? Barry's trip to Garfield adds an approximate five miles each way to his morning trip, and places Barry and his vehicle in the direction the helmet was discarded - west from the bicycle.
May 10, 05:00 – Morgan Gentile Hears Barry’s Truck on Hwy 50 Gentile stated she did not see the truck but that his truck has a very distinctive exhaust.
May 10, 05:14 – 06:56 – Barry on the road to Broomfield. Barry phone exits airplane mode while heading towards Buena Vista, CO.
May 10, 08:10 – Trash Dump #1 – RTD Bus Stop Hwy 36 Agent Grusing: "Yes. He would have time -- with the passenger door opening and closing -- like it would say passenger door opened at 8:10:36 am and then passenger door closed at 8:12:13 am. So it took about a minute and a half and that trash can is only 10 to 15 steps away from where the truck was parked."
May 10, 08:14 – 08:20 Holiday Inn Express, Broomfield. Trash Dump #2 Grusing: "He said he parked there because he hoped someone would come out and he could go in the hotel before checking in and get a free breakfast." (Note: It was mid-COVID lockdown, building capacities were down to single digits.)
May 10, 08:41 – 08:46 – “I made it to Broomfield call me when you get a chance” Barry texts Suzanne.
May 10, 08:46 – Barry carries items into the Holiday Inn Express “If there’s clothes in my truck, there was probably old clothes I threw away.”
May 10, 10:06 – Barry exits hotel room. He's carrying a charcoal long-sleeved shirt, two white bags, and a pair of boots.
May 10, 10:20 – 10:41 – McDonald’s – Trash Dump #3 SA Grusing said Barry had a small item in his hand and used one arm to push it down, then both to push it further down as Barry was shown the photos.
May 10, 10:47 – 11:18 – Men’s Wearhouse Trash Dump #4 Barry was told he was there for about 40 minutes and asked if he remembered what he was doing there. Barry said, “I think I was still cleaning my truck, umm, yeah, yeah I mean, like I said, I just uh, I would, I was probably getting crap out of my truck like I said, which I’ve done my whole entire life.”
May 10, 11:18 – Barry calls MG "Barry called he was out of breathe (sic) panting but fatigue, kind a like hungover but he doesn’t drink, honestly when I hung up I thought to myself he sounded like he had the worst night of his life.” - MG
May 10, 11:23 – 11:36 – Barry back at the HIE Barry carries in disorganized papers in a binder. Carries out an organized binder.
May 10, 11:57 – 12:25 – Barry at the worksite Barry spent 28 minutes removing a few blocks from the wall.
May 10, 12:28 – 12:41 – HIE Trash Dump #5 A camera recorded Barry throwing away: a small item, one white trash bag, larger in size than the previous bags in one hand, a black container, along with a piece of clothing, possibly a camouflage coat.
May 10, 12:42 – 18:03 – Barry remains in his HIE room. ”At 3:30PM, Barry sent an outgoing message to Suzanne 'Call me'"
May 10, 2020 (Time Unknown) – Libler wishes Suzanne a Happy Mother’s Day Commented that it would be a hard day because she missed her own mother.
May 10, 2020 – 15:30 – Barry texts Suzanne from his hotel room. At 3:30PM, Barry sent an outgoing message to Suzanne “Call me”
May 10, 15:50 – 17:45 – Suzanne is discovered “missing” “I’m just so sad and REDCATED and I texted mom for Mother’s Day and she still hasn’t answered and I’m scared her and dad probably got in a big fight and I don’t even know it just made me want to be gone even more because I don’t want to be around them it hurts me and I know if REDACTED is working I might have to be home a lot more and it’ll probably be the worst summer of my life.”- MM2 text.
May 10, 17:55 – 19:10 – Barry leaving Broomfield 6:10 pm - Barry entered the lobby carrying two shovels and placed them beside the front desk. He made subsequent trips, placing more tools in the same spot.
May 10, 19:31 – Chaffee County finds the bike “Something is up with the front tire,” Deputy Brown
May 10, 20:42 – Barry arrives at CR 255 & US 50 "Barry is heard asking if deputies saw any “cats” on the road and a deputy says not recently."
May 10, 21:37 – CCSO Commander Avila brings Barry into the house for scent items. Barry does not call out or look for his wife in the home.
May 10, After 21:47 – Barefoot prints in the Bobcat Bucket Deputy Brown was walking in the driveway when Deputy Defurio told him that there were barefoot marks inside of the bucket on the Bobcat. Deputy Brown went with him to examine and found that the cutting blade on the bucket of the Bobcat appeared to be newly replaced, along with the nuts and bolts.
May 10, 22:00 – MG and JP smell chlorine and have the wrong tools in Broomfield. “It looked like Barry had removed top caps that was it. We also did not have the tools we need like a packer or gravel.”
May 11, 2020 – First Interviews, Puma Path Searched "On May 11, 2020, at about 7:00AM, Barry called Morgan and said that Suzanne was missing and he thought a mountain lion may have attacked her. Morgan explained that Barry was initially crying but then abruptly shifted to the specifics about the Broomfield job."
May 11, 2020 – 14:47 – Libler sends last message to Suzanne. Wishing her well for her scheduled final cancer treatment that day.
May 12, 2020 – 20:00 – Barry found digging in the trash at Poncha Market “He went to write down a description of maybe what she was wearing,” Butala said. “I just thought it was weird because he didn’t explain what the color of her eyes were or her hair or anything about her, like how tall she was or anything.”
May 13, 2020 – Deputy Carricato took photos of scratches on Barry’s left arm and hands. These injuries appeared to be healing, several days old scratches.
May 13, 2020 – Fundraiser created $33,552 raised
May 17, 2020 – 11:13 – Barry’s “plea” video is released on Facebook. “Oh Suzanne, if anyone is out there and can hear this, that has you, please, we’ll do whatever it takes to bring you back. We love you, we miss you, your girls need you. No questions asked, however much they want – I will do whatever it takes to get you back. Honey, I love you, I want you back so bad.”
May 19, 2020 – Interviews, Pneu-Darts, Range Rovers "CCSO Deputy Scott Himschoot was present during the search at 19057 Puma Path, in the laundry room, and was asked to collect a “pneu-dart box, empty,” one plastic hypodermic cover, one Pneu-dart book from safe in garage, one dart from box under bench in garage, among other items. The plastic cover was located by evidence search teams in the dryer, inside of the sheets belonging to REDACTED bed." (At some point we had confirmation of a to-do list Suzanne left including MM1s bedding in hopes that the older girls would spend the night. Cannot remember the source.)
May 20, 2020 – Spy Pen found. "The pen was located in a cloth bin amongst women’s bras. The cloth bin and pen were inside the walk-in closet in the master bedroom, located on the ground level of the residence. Detective Hysjulien located, with the pen, the controller and headphones for playback and a USB cable."
June 1, 2020 – Barry files for guardianship. Within a month of Suzanne’s disappearance, Barry began to liquidate assets.
June 1, 2020 – TD interviews Barry on camera. "So, uh -- we uh --. We had two daughters that were coming home from a trip. And I got a job in Denver that I wanted to get started on on Sunday. Set it up for my work because my rookies are coming in Sunday night. (Unintelligible) Monday but I, being the owner, I wanted to get everything lined up so that (Unintelligible).
June 6, 2020 – Barry closes on IN home. Pockets $750,000
June 25, 2020 – Barry purchases the Longhorn Ranch property for $165,000 Property Address 8366 LONGHORN DR
July 13, 2020 – Barry sells Suzanne’s Range Rover. Leaves Suzanne's sunglasses in the car.
Aug 20, 2020 – Lauren Scharf Interviews Barry “People don’t know the truth, so they’re gonna think what they’re gonna think.”
October 05, 2020 – Barry lists Puma Path home for sale. Originally listed for $1,759,000.
November 2020 – Barry Commits Voter Fraud Barry filled out Suzanne's ballot and mailed it in.
February 17, 2021 – Barry Sells Longhorn Ranch property for $150,000 A $15,000 loss. Same property sold on 04/21/2021 for $175,000, indicating Barry needed the money fast.
March 3, 2021 – 19057 Puma Path sells for $1,625,000. Barry and Suzanne Morphew purchased the home on April 12, 2018 for $1,575,000.
May 4, 2021 – Warrant Issued for the Arrest of Barry Lee Morphew CRS/CHARGE: 18-3-102 (1), (a) Murder in the First Degree, a class 1 Felony, 18-8-610. Tampering with Physical Evidence, a class 6 felony, 18-8-306, Attempt to Influence a Public Servant, a class 4 Felony.
May 5, 2021 – 09:15 – Barry Lee Morphew Arrested for the murder of Suzanne Renee Moorman Morphew "Morphew was arrested around 9:15 a.m. on Wednesday, May 5 near his home in Poncha Springs. FOX31 News has obtained video of the arrest, which shows his truck stopped on the side of the road near several police vehicles. He can be seen standing just off the road with an officer." AA: https://www.documentcloud.org/documents/21065843-21cr78-morphew-redacted-affidavit
August 9-12, 2021 – Preliminary Hearing. Day One: https://docs.google.com/document/d/15wZ86C3zQ6kh9VGOUCJcr0ipCoFeaXkdowmwyaruiIQ/edit?usp=drive_link
Day Two: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1QKa1jcH2dAqe9Wezew-KbLCDuicrm1HgfwC4oGwM8Dg/edit?usp=drive_link
Day Three got corrupted so it's gone.
People's exhibit images: https://imgur.com/a/hgvlBUt Defense exhibit images: https://imgur.com/a/VC3ZfUZ
April 19, 2022 - Case against Barry Morphew Dismissed Without Prejudice. Prosecution asked for the case to be dismissed.
May 2, 2023 – Barry files $15,000,000 lawsuit against Chaffee County, et.al. https://www.9news.com/article/news/local/barry-morphew-lawsuit/73-3cea50c2-cdae-4338-8de9-9e113d33db6c
May 8, 2023 – Fraud Lawsuit filed against Barry in Indiana. Property dispute. https://denvergazette.com/news/courts/barry-morphew-sued-fraud-allegations-land-dispute/article_1c7cd90e-f4f5-11ed-9778-47c9c303d16d.html
September 22, 2023 – Suzanne's Remains Found Near Moffat in Saguache County While SCSO was searching for another (unrelated) missing woman. https://www.cbsnews.com/colorado/news/suzanne-morphew-remains-found-colorado-missing-mother-barry-chaffee-county-disappearance/
Sept. 27, 2023 – Autopsy Completed. Awaiting Toxicology. https://cbi.colorado.gov/news-article/suzanne-morphew-autopsy-results-cbi-update-0https://www.cbsnews.com/colorado/news/autopsy-complete-remains-missing-colorado-mom-suzanne-morphew/
April 29, 2024 – Toxicology finds BAM in Suzanne's bone marrow. “Homicide by undetermined means in the setting of butorphanol, azaperone, and medetomidine intoxication.” https://www.scribd.com/document/727780041/Suzanne-Morphew-autopsy-results https://www.cpr.org/2024/04/29/suzanne-morphew-died-by-homicide-with-tranquilizer-chemicals-present-in-body-according-to-autopsy-report/
Complete Case Overview (Official News Reports and Documents)
What Suzanne Left Behind (PH Exhibits)
Suzanne's Texts with SO Sept 2019
Barry's Unstableness: Suzanne's Text Conversion with SO September 1 (PH Exhibits)
Where was Barry on the 9th - Preliminary Hearing Exhibits
Barry and the Chipmunks (AA Excerpts)
Barry's dirty truck and poorly maintained rifle. PH Exhibits
Suzanne's Last Days - Timeline - May 4th - May 9th, 2020
Barry Buries a Body - May 10th, 2020 - Timeline
Barry Busy in Broomfield Part One (Preliminary Hearing Exhibits)
Barry Busy in Broomfield Part Two (PH Exhibits)

Don't let them kill us" were the last words of three young men - Majid, Saeed, and Saleh - scribbled on a crumpled piece of paper, smuggled out of jail.
At dawn, they were taken, just the executioner and his gallows remained.
The Islamic Republic in Iran continues to mortally oppress and torture the youth, the creatives, and the fearless who stand for freedom from oppression. Rappers Toomaj Salehi, Saman Yasin, and more...film makers, university professors, factory workers, students and school children slaughtered one by one over the years with no recourse to justice. All who bravely stood against the criminals of the Islamic Republic and survived, are now in grave danger. Since amplifying the names of prisoners in the past has helped stay execution sentences, it is our duty to be their voice.
Worldwide coordinated rallies are taking place this weekend to protest the state-sanctioned murder of Iran's children and the oppression of women and their families in Iran.
We stand united in all our different walks of life, to protest the corruption and ignorance that has kept this regime in power. Join rappers, artists and human rights advocates standing for universal justice and universal human rights at Trafalgar Square, this Sunday, 3-5pm. For Jina Mahsa Amini!

DC Next Proudly Presents:

NIGHTWING:

In Hunter Hybrid
Issue Fourteen: The Meek Shall Inherit
Written by AdamantAce
Edited by PatrollinTheMojave
 
<< First Issue < Prev. Next Issue > Coming Next Month
 
 
Dick's heart hammered against his chest like a pounding storm as he stood amidst the laboratory, flanked by Artemis and Barry Allen, the Flash. The weight of worry for Mar'i bore down on him unbearably, each moment without her amplifying his anxiety.
In the secluded closet hidden at the back of the lab, Dick and Artemis had found something haunting: a trove of withered seedlings, dead plants that looked alien in nature. Assuming the worst, but needing to confirm, Dick had quickly summoned a friend with a history of running genetic samples - none other than the Scarlet Speedster - to the scene.
Barry’s brow furrowed in concentration as he examined the specimens, having already run several tests.
“I'm limited in what I can do here; I'm a CSI, not a xenologist,” Barry admitted with regret, evoking his favourite chief medical officer of fiction. “Really, this really feels like a job for someone like Cadmus. Alien DNA is their whole deal.”
Dick could only grimace at the suggestion, reminded of the sickening experiments he had unearthed in the bowels of the Chicago cloning laboratory, of the dozens of aborted attempts at cloning Bruce Wayne. It was hard to stomach, especially knowing that he still had no idea who was responsible. “Not an option," he replied firmly. “Not Cadmus.”
Barry raised an eyebrow, his curiosity evident in his expression. “You don't believe those rumours about the Superboy clones, do you?" he asked. “They’re Reawakened through and through. Blame the other universes’ Cadmuses.”
In response, Dick shook his head. “It’s not that. It’s… something else.”
Barry then looked to Artemis and smiled. “It’s, uh… nice to meet you properly by the way,” he said. “I heard you, uh, shoot arrows.”
Despite the terrible situation they were in, Artemis allowed herself a snicker in response to the Flash’s awkwardness. “Among other things. It’s important to branch out, seeing as I know you already have an arrows guy.”
Just then, Tim emerged from behind a sliding door, draped in his red and black Rook gear, a stack of papers in hand. “Got the printouts you asked for,” he said, handing them over to Barry.
Barry swiftly flipped through the pages at super speed, his expression growing grim as he absorbed the information.
“What is it?” asked Artemis.
“What we feared,” he announced somberly. “The dead seedlings match the profile of alien species, with a significant DNA match for the Morning Eclipse sample you got from Starling’s fingernails.”
Dick's frustration boiled over, his voice dripping with anger. “Wilkof,” he spat, his jaw clenched in fury. “He let that damn killer plant loose.”
Tim struck himself in the shoulder in self-reproach. “I should've put it together sooner,” he muttered. “Wilkof knew plenty about Tamaran even before you let him speak to Mar’i.”
“It’s worse than we thought,” added Barry, and everyone’s blood turned cold. “This Dr Wilkof wasn't just releasing the Morning Eclipse, he was trying to propagate them; taking cuttings to grow more of them. We’re just lucky the Earth's sunlight is too diffuse for their growth.”
Dick's eyes widened in horror. “So he’s trying to create an army of killer plants?”
Barry nodded solemnly. “An army or a particularly menacing greenhouse.”
Artemis's brow furrowed as she pieced together a crucial detail. “Wait, a couple years ago they had me subbing in the bio department at school for a few months. I’m pretty sure plants grown from cuttings are meant to be genetically identical to the parent.”
Tim cursed under his breath and then reached for the printouts to give them a check over himself. “You’re right! Genetic variation only occurs after pollination. But these plants aren't self-pollinated. They're too distinct from the original sample taken from Mar'i’s attack.”
Barry's voice quivered as he raised a troubling possibility. “Could there be two adult killer plants on the loose?”
“No, it's not that,” Tim quickly replied again, his expression grave as he looked up from the stack of papers. “It's worse.”
Artemis' heart sank. “How could it possibly be worse?”
“The dead seedlings share identical DNA with each other. And every single one of their genes is present in the parent sample. But the parent also has additional chromosomes that all of the seedlings lack,” Tim explained as his eyes traced the text on the papers once more. “The parent had an extra 48 chromosomes.”
Barry's face paled. "48? Are you sure?”
“48? What does that mean?” asked Dick, looking rapidly back and forth between Tim and Barry.
Artemis gritted her teeth. “Humans have 48 chromosomes. The adult plant is half human.”
“Fully human,” Barry corrected. “And fully plant too. A symbiosis.”
“What does that mean?” asked Dick, scared of the answer he would soon receive.
“It means I think Wilkof merged himself with the plant.”
 
🔹🔹 🪶 🔹🔹
 
Ker-tonk.
Ker-tonk.
Ker-tonk.
Mar’i lay in the darkness of the car’s trunk, helpless. She couldn’t tell how long it had been since she last felt the sun’s warmth on her skin. She tried to summon childhood memories of Tamaran, of the sun her father had found oppressive and her mother found liberating. But they were distant and blurred, echoes from another lifetime - and another timeline.
As the car rumbled on, she focused on her senses, trying to glean any information about her surroundings. The air was stale and musty, tinged with the scent of oil and rubber. The vibrations of the road beneath her reverberated through her body, a constant reminder of her captivity.
Eventually, the car came to a halt, and Mar’i braced herself as the trunk door creaked open, flooding the confined space with blinding light. Blinking rapidly, she squinted against the harsh glare, feeling the rejuvenating solar rays bathing her, a stark contrast to the cold darkness of her confinement.
Dr Wilkof loomed over her, his appearance now almost normal except for a slight pallor that hinted at something darker beneath the surface. He reached out, his hands enveloping her wrists, which were bound with withered rope. Thick, barbed vines extended from the sleeves of his coat, renewing her restraints and further draining what little power reserves she had left.
As he dragged her up out of the trunk, Mar’i found herself in the midst of a desolate car park, surrounded by nothing but empty space and the looming silhouette of a large hangar. She had nary a clue of where they were.
“It will be easier if you don’t struggle,” he said, his tone devoid of joy or malice, as if he were simply stating a fact. But Mar’i knew better than to trust his words.
As Wilkof led her towards the hangar, Mar’i stumbled along behind him, the vines around her wrists taut like a leash. She tried to reason with him, to appeal to the vestiges of his humanity buried beneath the madness that gripped him.
“You don’t have to do this,” she implored, unsure of how much of his humanity really remained. “The plant doesn’t have to control you.”
Wilkof's eyes gleamed with a haunted fervour as he shook his head, the vines’ grip tightening around Mar'i’s wrists. “I've sacrificed too much to stop now,” he muttered. Those words carried a strange quality,like they weren’t fully his. Maybe it was the plant talking, maybe they were words he had rehearsed to himself enough times for them to become hollow. “I won’t let it all be in vain.”
For a moment, Mar’i was left to wonder what he meant by that. Then she remembered what little she knew about him, and a shiver ran down her spine. (He had fed the rest of his team from the lab to the plant, a grim sacrifice to fuel his delusions of grandeur.*
“No one cared about mild-mannered Hunter Wilkof,” he continued, his voice cracking with bitterness. “The plant promised to make me someone special, to make me famous.”
Mar’i shook her head in disbelief as she continued to be lugged along. “The plant doesn’t speak,” she insisted with a rising urgency. “Its pheromones mess with your mind, make you see and hear things that aren’t there.”
But Wilkof brushed off her words with a scoff. “I don’t care,” he replied, his gaze fixed on the hangar ahead. “I fed the plant like I was told, but the fame never came. I let it eat the only thing I ever loved. But… nothing changed.”
Her heart yearned to find some way to free him of the plant’s clutches, to help him see the light, but she knew well what desperation could do to a person, if left unchecked. She knew how far someone could fall.
“Then I realised… I wasn’t meant for prizes and celebrity,” he continued, deranged. “That wasn’t what the plant had planned for us. It’s just like you said in your Tamaranean fairy tale, the Morning Eclipse and its legend. I knew we were meant for infamy, but just one plant and its keeper wouldn’t do the trick. We needed a bigger family.”
At this point, Hunter stopped, and the pair had finally reached the mouth of the hangar. Mar’i searched through the darkness, but was struggling to see straight at all thanks to the toxic, draining effect of her Morning Eclipse vine restraints.
Wilkof just stared into the darkness, and continued. “I tried taking cuttings, but no matter how much blood, meat or southern exposure I gave them… it wasn’t enough, and they wilted. It wouldn’t tell me why it wasn’t working, and all I knew was that the plant was from Tamaran,” he confessed, his voice growing hoarse with emotion. “So I went to look for Starfire, but she was in space. And then… then I found you. A hybrid like me.”
But throughout Hunter’s grim confession, Mar’i was still missing some important details. “How did you know the plant was from Tamaran?” She defied him, “It doesn’t have a mind of its own, so it couldn’t have told you.”
Hunter smiled. “I used to drive out into the countryside and just leave my car behind, go for these long walks to clear my head when city life got too much,” he explained, a shroud of something resembling peace slowly falling over him. “I always felt guilty for it, reasoning I should have been spending that time in the lab, looking for ways to help people. But this one day, a few years ago now, I realised it was all worth it.”
He then pulled a remote from his pocket and pressed a button at its centre. As the lights of the hangar flickered to life, they revealed a magnificent sight, something Mar’i immediately recognised as a First Class Vegan Star Cruiser - a Tamaranean space vessel from the shipyards of Okaara - resplendent in hues of silver and violet. The ship stood tall and proud, a beacon of extraterrestrial wonder amidst the mundane surroundings of the hangar. But why was it here? And how did Wilkof have it?
He gestured towards the ship with an odd gleam in his eyes. “Suddenly, and without warning, this spaceship came crashing down through the sky just a couple of miles away, out here, where it was just me there to see it,” he explained. “So I rushed over, I searched the wreckage… and that’s where I found it. It was only a sapling, a baby really, and it called out to me. I knew I needed to take it home, back to the lab, back for testing.”
Mar’i shook her head. How was he to have known back then that the plant was pulling his strings?
“I stashed the ship away, knowing its potential,” he confessed. “The ship’s computer confirmed its origins: Tamaran. Apparently it even used to belong to a princess named Komand’r.”
Mar’i's mind raced as she processed this revelation. Komand’r - also known as the tyrant queen Blackfire - was Koriand’r’s sister, and Mar’i’s aunt. Someone she had already come across early in her time in this universe. Then, just in time for him to answer it without her asking, Mar’i happened upon another awful question.
“I got some guys in to make repairs, and another guy to… basically hotwire the thing, before I fed them all to the plant. But the ship won’t fly without one final security measure,” continued Hunter, his gaze fixed on Mar’i. “A pilot with Tamaranean DNA.”
 
🔹🔹 🪶 🔹🔹
 
Back in the lab, Dick, Artemis and Tim continued to put the pieces together, now sans Barry who had raced off to join Wally in combing the city for either Mar’i or the Morning Eclipse, not knowing that both were far from the city limits.
“Why Mar’i?” Dick demanded. “What does Wilkof want with her? Her Starbolts could be used to fuel the plant and its cuttings, but that’d only make a difference at night, when they can’t get sunlight for themselves.”
Artemis nodded in agreement. “Surely they can survive a night without sunlight,” she surmised. “So what else would he come to Mar’i for?”
“Could it be her DNA?” posed Tim. “Maybe he has a use for DNA from a Tamanrean.”
“What kind of uses?” asked Dick. It wouldn’t be that, but his mind once again returned to the cloning vats of Cadmus. “No, it’s not that.”
“Then what else could it be?” Artemis sighed, frustrated. All of this analysis, brainstorming and scheming, and they were no closer to finding the missing Titan.
Then, Dick’s face blanched with fear. “She knows the way,” he said simply, his voice barely above a whisper.
“The way to what?” asked Tim, his own anxiety rising.
“To Tamaran,” Dick replied with dread. “A place where the sun shines bright enough for a hundred Morning Eclipses.”
 
🔹🔹 🪶 🔹🔹
 
In the dimly lit interior of what was once her aunt Komand'r's ship, Mar'i's heart raced with fear and uncertainty, now strapped into her seat beside the demented Dr Wilkof. The vessel, a marvel of Vega System technology, exuded an otherworldly aura, its sleek silver surfaces shimmering with an ethereal glow. Yet, to Mar'i, it felt more like a prison than a wonder.
She couldn't shake the sense of dread that gripped her. Tamaran, a place she once called home, now loomed before her as an unfamiliar and foreboding destination. She knew of the tumultuous history of this universe's Tamaran, the tales of military coups and the reign of the Orange Lantern Larfleeze, all of which added to her apprehension. The planet had hundreds of Morning Eclipses, but none had ever merged with a sapient vessel before. The killer plants were best survived by being completely ignored, which wouldn’t be possible with an intelligent host scheming and bringing the plants to their vulnerable prey. Could she inflict that threat on Tamaran?
Wilkof's jubilant smile did little to assuage her fears as he spoke. “When we reach the planet - with its gleaming sun - I’ll have everything I need. I'll create more Morning Eclipses, genetically superior ones, and they will bond with Tamaranean vessels to enhance their intelligence. And then there’ll be no more sacrifices, just feeding.”
Mar'i's stomach churned at the thought of being complicit in Wilkof's madness. But she also knew that she was in no position to bargain. And he knew it.
With a heavy heart and a sense of resignation, Mar'i steeled herself for the task ahead and the ship hummed to life around them, hurtling toward an uncertain destiny.
Then, as they quickly hit sonic speed, Hunter turned to his pilot and prisoner, keen to share a thought he hoped would bring her peace. “I want you to know… once we get to Tamaran, I’ll never have to return to Earth again. Don’t think about where we’re going, think about what we’re leaving behind. This is you saving planet Earth.”
 
 
Next: Sun it up in Nightwing #15
 

Hi everyone, you know it’s that time of year :) I appreciate all the advice from everyone in advance. Please forgive formatting issues since I’m on mobile.
cGPA: 3.92 sGPA: 3.88
2 Bs in Freshman year, 1 in Junior (Biochem 😭)
Majored in Math at a college in Worcester, MA Class of ‘25 (am doing undergrad in 2.5-3 years 🙃). Am a permanent resident of the great state of Massachusetts 🇺🇸 🦅. ORM (Asian), Fam Income of ~250$k. No one in my fam has ever been in medicine. Dad has a BS and mom MBA.
MCAT: Most Recent - 514 (129/126/130/129) First Time - 509 (128/124/125/132)
For the following sections (present) denotes activities I am currently continuing.
Clinical Volunteering: 50 Hrs at UMass over the course of a year, restocked shelves, talked to patients, helped with food and other tasks on med-surge (1 year). Program director and I have good relation, boosted total number of volunteers via promotion.
150 Hrs as EMT on college campus, promoted to General position recently. take 12 hr on-call and run calls as a General.
Non-clinical Volunteering: 350 Hrs at a local organization focused on the visual impaired, worked with congressmen, Central Mass Regional Planning Committee, was on TV, and with medical students for clinical clerkships (2 years) (present)
150 Hrs as lead of community service of pre-med club, helped organized drives, goody bags, and other volunteer opportunities that connect students to local organizations in Worcester (2 years) (present)
Research: Quantitative Neuroscience Lab research volunteer to PhD working on measuring stress through microfluidic assays on C. elegans with induced PTSD. Lots of Python, MATLAB, microfluidic, and C. elegans experience. No pubs. 200 Hrs over 1 year.
Systems Neuroscience Lab research volunteer working on pollution in Alzheimer’s project in C. elegans. Learned how to do Calcium Imaging, several behavior assays, chemotaxis, and other forms imaging. Also mentored two HS students. Presented a slideshow about my research at college. Started working on a math modeling project. no pubs, have a draft of pollution Alzheimer’s paper. At least 400-500 hrs over 3 years (present).
REU in Maine at program with 7% acceptance rate. Worked in a lab focused on regenerative cardiovascular science for ischemic injury. My project focused on the differential gene and protein expression of retinoic acid and neuregulin interactions. Used lots of mathematical + AI modeling, qPCR, proteomics/LCMS, immunoblotting. Learned cell culture for human pluripotent STEM cells, learned how to harvest and creat fibroblast stock from mice cadavers, and how to use LCMS machines 5500 model and 6500. 2 posters. 450 hrs over the summer 2023.
New Zealand Dept. of Comservation project on incorporating Māori knowledge systems into invasive species (rodent) eradication. Ecological sciences project. 1 Paper. may also be published in NZ Journal of Ecology soon. 400 hrs Jan-Mar 2024
JUST STARTED Beth Israel Surgery Internship. Working on developing Machine Learning framework along with pt chart data to predict fracture risk in T1 diabetic patients. predicted 450 hrs over summer and guaranteed 1 poster, potential to work on other projects / write paper.
Shadowing - ENT 36 hrs - IM 10 hrs - EM 20 hrs - Cardiology 20 hrs - Orthopedic Surgery (predicted: 12 hrs)
Work: 200 Hrs over 2-3 Months working 24 hrs/week on top of college full time at an private institution ER as an ED technician
200 Hrs over 2-3 Months working 24 hrs/week on top of college full time at a public institution ER as an ED technician (but could also do phlebotomy work now too!)
Leadership: President of Pre-Health Honors Society (150 Hrs - 1 year) Community Service Chair of Pre-Health Club (150 Hrs - 2 years) General at EMS Club (150 Hrs - 2 years) Vice President of Japanese Club (150 Hrs - 2 years) Secretary of Italian Club (50 Hrs - 1 year)
LOR: Am getting a committee letter from college, but have the following as contributors - PI from Systems Neuro Lab - ENT surgeon i shadowed (really REALLY loved me - built him a prototype for medical tool for a research passion he had) - PhD from Maine REU - Math Prof i took a grad course with (she worked at Boston Scientific doing endoscope stats before becoming a stats professor) - NZ Project Mentor - UMass volunteer coordinator (TBD, should I?)
Personal Statement (quick summary by ChatGPT): My personal statement reflects a journey fueled by curiosity and empathy. It all began with my passion for mathematics, leading me to explore AI and neuroscience, culminating in research experiences in two neuroscience labs. Transitioning into healthcare, I witnessed firsthand the importance of patient advocacy and empathy, especially through the mentorship of [redacted] and my time in the ER. My commitment to patient care extends to diverse populations, including those with mental health issues and disabilities. Finally, my involvement with [visually impaired volunteering] taught me the value of autonomy and trust, qualities I aim to embody as a future physician.
Personal: I run XC. I make music, guitar and piano mainly, but lately a lot of musescore and audacity. I have an absolutely terrible I like learning languages. I’ve been learning chinese (B2) for 7 years, Japanese (C1) for almost 6, Korean (B1) for 5, French (B1) for 3, heritage speaker of 2 Indian languages, and with my CARS score I’m not sure if I can claim English lmao. I’ve tutored at a non-profit the basics in Japanese, Chinese, and Korean for 150 Hrs, wrote a self-published book about constructed languages, was invited to present the book at an international conference, and recently passed the Japanese Language Proficiency Test so I can “officially” speak Japanese 😎. Languages and different cultures are a very big part of my life.
School List: Notes: I would like to stay in Massachusetts, but if I have to pull a slipping Jimmy and enroll at the University of American Samoa, so be it. Tear my list to shreds. I really want to match into a surgical specialty, so only US MD.
In-State: UMass BU Tufts Harvard
OOS: Dartmouth Vermont Brown Quinnipac UConn Yale Cornell Columbia NYMC Mount Sinai Stony Brook Einstein Hackensack Drexel Penn State JHU Sidney Kimmel TJU Georgetown George Washington U UVA Duke UNC Chapel Hill Vtech Wake Forest Stanford UCSF UCLA UWA Kaiser U of Hawaii (apparently Japanese is a thing in Hawaii)

Shortly before a final paper with pre-assigned topics was due for one of my last courses at Columbia University, our professor sent us an email telling us to forego the previous parameters of the essay, and to instead write about the events that had occurred not even forty-eight hours earlier, as well as our reflections on them, to be done in any manner we chose. Here is a very lightly revised version of what I submitted: read it, ignore it, upvote it, downvote it, hate it, love it.
I am prefacing this essay by stating that it is the culmination of several intense emotions that I have been dealing with over the last few weeks, more specifically, the last several days. It is a free-form expression of the many things occupying my mind, and, as such, it may seem overwhelming or disjointed. Nevertheless, I will do my best to convey my feelings into something representative of my beliefs, and my time at this institution.
My time at Columbia University has been bookended in an almost comically bad way; it started with Zoom classes during the COVID-19 pandemic, and now it ends with Zoom final exams due to the lockdown of Columbia’s campus after protests regarding the Israel – Palestine conflict reached a fever pitch not just within Morningside Campus, but the international stage. My classmates and I missed in-person orientation, and now, given recent developments, we will not have a University Commencement, a fact I found out not from Columbia, but a New York Times alert, somehow lowering my opinion of this administration’s handling of recent events even more. While the circumstances around my time at Columbia have now both begun and finished in the same manner, I am proud to say that I have not. I do not mean that Columbia has simply made me a better writer, a more critical thinker, or more well read, although it certainly has done those things, sometimes forcing me to when I was not particularly in the mood to do so, but those improvements pale in comparison to the maturity and empathy my time at this university has given me.
When the decision to transition to remote learning during the Spring 2020 semester was made, occurring only a short time after I had received my acceptance letter (email), my first thought was how the pandemic would affect my transfer from community college to Columbia in September. Admittedly, this was a selfish perspective, considering the tremendous challenges that many would endure during the ensuing lockdowns and other upheavals of life. My concerns were solely focused on myself because I was on a simple track to graduate, place my degree on my resumé, and continue my trajectory of military service to college to employment, leaving little else to consideration, to include other people who were not in my immediate circle. Sitting here now, two weeks from graduation, with a job at a Fortune 500 company lined up, I should be happy, with the plans I had made years ago coming to fruition. Yet I cannot help feeling a sense of sadness and concern for the school I have spent years of my life at, and for the world as a whole.
James Hatch, a former member of the United States’s elite Naval Special Warfare Development Group, or DEVGRU, for short, more commonly known by its nickname, Seal Team Six, famous for its involvement in the killing of Osama Bin Laden and the rescue of the Maersk Alabama Captain Richard Phillips from pirates, amongst other things, spent over twenty years in the military. After being wounded on a mission to rescue American serviceman sergeant Bowe Bergdahl from enemy forces, he was medically discharged, and would eventually attend Yale University. While there, he wrote a piece titled My Semester with the Snowflakes (please give this a read, it will help people who have never been in the military understand its culture, along with some of the challenges veterans face when transitioning to college), where he details his initial discomfort with being in a vastly different environment than the military, surrounded by individuals who possessed opinions and beliefs contrary to the ones he was accustomed to. He recalls witnessing a student protest the country he spent over two decades serving by coating her hand in red paint, and leaving a palm print on an American flag, and details his shock when a classmate of his explained to him what a “safe space” was, as well as his pride when he began to understand the nuances of life both inside and outside of the nation he dedicated twenty-six years to.
I can relate to Mr. Hatch, (despite my service paling in comparison to his, as well as the fact that Columbia is far superior to Yale), because, like his friends who make fun of him for attending college with a bunch of “snowflakes,” mine do the same. More significantly, however, his personal growth during his time at school is something that I have experienced myself. When I started at Columbia, I did not even know which major I would choose, and was largely lost in a world very different than the one I had come from. Despite this, I made the decision to avoid communities such as MilVets and the students who made it very clear that they came from a military background, with their style of dress and demeanor, not because those organizations and individuals are a detriment; I know for a fact that MilVets has helped countless students succeed at Columbia and beyond, and the veterans that I have relationships with are all phenomenal people, but because I wanted to pressure myself into being exposed to something different. I was uncomfortable at first, but this turned out to be the right decision. I learned as much from simply talking to people whom I would normally never converse with about topics and ideas that I had never encountered as I did during classes about great works of art, polar and Cartesian coordinates, literature, astronomy, the list goes on.
If the protests about the Israel – Palestine conflict had occurred when I first started at Columbia, I would have been frustrated by the students taking up space, forcing us to be funneled on to campus by restricted access points and identification checks. Likely irritated by the disturbance of the quiet during finals season, I would have agreed with the people who called for students to simply focus on their assignments and stop inconveniencing others by shouting about something occurring on the other side of the world. Instead, I decided to learn about the conflict, educating myself about both sides of a war that has roots extending back millennia. While Columbia University did not agree to the demands of the protestors, they achieved something else they surely desired, reaching a goal they did not state to President Shafik and her advisors: they brought attention to their cause by educating at least one additional person about it.
After reading, talking to people, listening to input from students within various classes, and understanding that things such as the intertwined nature of financial workings, as well as conflicts not just in the Middle East, but all over the world, are a level of complexity that baffles some of the most brilliant minds of ours and previous generations, I will leave my thoughts about Israel and Palestine separate from this paper. I recognize that it is important to choose a side, as remaining impartial helps no one. However, when every news agency, group and individual makes their voice heard, satirical sources such as The Onion make these kind of posts, or Adult Swim’s Rick, the nihilistic, narcissistic, psychopathic, misanthropic lead character from the series Rick and Morty, addresses the conflict in this manner, I feel that it is better to relegate myself to a much smaller part of this debate, namely the occurrences on Columbia University’s Morningside Campus.
During basic training for the United States Army, a sense of brotherhood and camaraderie is hammered into recruits’ identities. When you graduate and are assigned to a unit, one where you could be thousands of miles from home on the opposite side of the country, or even in a completely different country, serving on one of the international bases, approaching someone who you have never met before is easy. Talking to them about shared experiences and stories you have in common, and the bonding that occurs, is the product of an indoctrination process and lifestyle that has existed longer than any of us have been alive, and is proof of its effectiveness. This sense of familiarity tends to continue even when one leaves the military. The Veterans of Foreign Wars community is a place for prior servicemembers of all conflicts to share a drink, a laugh, and sometimes a tear. When I go to the Veterans Administration Hospital for periodic check-ups or the occasional injury, men and woman wearing hats commemorating their service during Vietnam waiting for their appointments greet me with a smile and a handshake, as if we have known each other for years. While working at a golf club’s greens department before I transferred to Columbia from community college, a coworker of mine who had served in the Gulf War had heard from our supervisor that I had been in the Army, and he introduced himself to me on my first day, before anyone else, telling me that if I needed anything, I only had to ask. This camaraderie has expanded to encompass not just veterans, but first responders such as firemen, EMT’s, and the police as well.
Underneath the picture on my driver’s license, the word “veteran” is emblazoned next to a star, written in bright red text and all capital letters. I know for a fact that this one-and-a-half-inch indicator has helped me during interactions with law enforcement on multiple occasions. Only earlier this semester, during Presidents’ Day weekend, I went upstate to spend time with my family. While driving back, in an effort to make the seven-hour trip at a reasonable time, I was stopped for going twenty miles-per-hour over the speed limit. The officer who pulled me over, initially reserved, became noticeably more friendly when I handed him my license and registration. Ultimately, he gave me what amounted to a parking ticket for my actions, rather than the point-incurring, heavily fined moving violation he could have charged me with.
The ‘Thin Blue Line,’ as it is known, is a reference to the idea that the police are the barrier between law abiding citizens and criminals, order and chaos. The most common representation of this concept is a black-and-white American flag, with a single blue line in the place where a red or white stripe would normally be. This style has been expanded to include numerous other colors representing other first-responders: green for the military, red and white no longer to be interpreted as the traditional stripes of the American flag, but instead meant to represent the fire department and paramedics, and even grey for corrections officers. Seeing the appropriation of one of the most iconic symbols in the world, one that flies above the White House, schools, homes, national and international events, and even the Moon, I can say, as someone who has been unwillingly entangled within that appropriation, is nothing short of terrifying.
The fact that these entities and their supporters have literally sewn themselves into the fabric of the symbol of our nation makes one think that there is little room for the countless other occupations, aspects and people that make up this country. The idea of the police being the sole protectors of our society is patently absurd, and all one must do is point out the many instances of police brutality occurring over the years to refute it. I find myself thinking of how much power the officer who stopped me just three months ago had over me. Initially, I was happy that I had received a slap on the wrist, but recently I have found myself wondering what if my license did not state that I was a veteran, would he have charged me with a ticket that would have had much more serious implications? What if he was simply having a bad day, and he decided he did not like the look of me, or the color of my car, and I was the one who he ultimately decided to vent his frustrations on? This traffic infraction, an incredibly small incident compared to all the turmoil in the world, one that involves two strangers, supposedly bonded by our professions, on the side of a quiet, New York highway, serves as a metaphor to me, reminding me of the power structures at play on a much larger scale.
On April 22^nd, 2024, I received this email, one of the many Clery Crime Alerts that students are automatically sent. An affiliate of Columbia University had their car stolen at gunpoint by two masked men on Claremont Avenue, not even a five-minute walk from campus. I skimmed the report, and almost immediately forgot about it, recognizing that crime is an inevitability in major cities, and that I needed to start my commute to school. Days later, on the night of April 30^th, 2024, I received another email from Columbia, containing one of the most ominous messages I had ever seen, one that put the kind of fear in my heart that not even the alert of an armed carjacking could. Columbia’s Emergency Management Operations Team, offering no explanations, specifications, or even a greeting or sign-off, wrote in bold letters these three sentences: “Shelter in place for your safety due to heightened activity on the Morningside campus. Non-compliance may result in disciplinary action. Avoid the area until further notice.” Due to the protests on campus during recent weeks, President Shafik testifying before Congress, Columbia’s role as one of the main catalysts for student protests around the country, and the occupation of Hamilton Hall occurring in the earlier hours of that day, it was not hard to figure out what the email was referencing. Over the next several hours, I followed news agencies, remained glued to the Columbia subreddit, and listened to WKCR, in awe of these eighteen- to twenty-two-year-old students putting themselves at risk to deliver on the ground, accurate, unbiased coverage of one of the most significant events in the school’s history.
While tracking the events from multiple perspectives, to include the social media accounts of those near and on campus live streaming them, I held out hope that the university would make good on their promise from several days earlier to not invite the NYPD back, but a frightening picture began to unfold, one that I was intimately familiar with. One WKCR reporter stated that 114^th street had so many officers on it that he could not see the asphalt of the road beneath them, and I knew that the staging area the NYPD had chosen was one of the best routes for moving towards what the military, and presumably law enforcement, would call an ‘objective.’ The officers cleared the smaller ‘objective,’ the largely unoccupied tents in front of Butler, and then moved towards Hamilton Hall, ordering even those not associated with its occupation to disperse, raising my stress levels and likely those of others, as it is rarely a good sign when police do not want their actions recorded and archived. After the initial entry to campus and clearing of areas and people in the immediate vicinity of Hamilton Hall, came the Long-Range Acoustic Device, or LRAD, a device that makes a megaphone sound like a whisper, and one known for its crowd-control potential, capable of producing sounds loud enough to cause damage to ear-drums, nausea, and headaches, ordering individuals to clear away. The NYPD began its execution of tactics in a way that my fellow soldiers and I used to rehearse, tactics I never dreamed that I would witness outside of the military, and certainly not by police officers who vastly outnumbered unarmed students on their own campus. The NYPD created a perimeter, or a ‘second layer of security’ to both provide reinforcements for the officers entering the building, and to prevent the fleeing of what are called ‘squirters,’ or individuals who attempt to escape the building after the raid begins. While the ‘breach’ team moved towards the front doors, using tools from a ‘hooligan kit,’ such as bolt cutters, hand-held battering rams and crowbars, a siege machine was brought in to allow access from a window; when taking over a building, the idea is to enter it from as many different directions as possible to better disorient and overwhelm its occupants. Flash-bang grenades, described as non-lethal, but known to have harmful effects, were thrown inside, presumably before entering any room, hallway, or otherwise enclosed area to minimize the resistance of anyone unfortunate enough to be on the receiving end of what can only be described as an assault on the visual and auditory senses. According to the Manhattan District Attorney, one of the officers inside Hamilton Hall had what is called in the military a “negligent discharge,” meaning his firearm went off unintentionally. While no one was hurt, the question remains why at least one, and more likely, numerous other officers were carrying guns loaded with live ammunition in the first place, when they so drastically outmatched the protestors in numbers and equipment. Additionally, a negligent discharge is an act of incompetence that would result in an active-duty soldier facing serious consequences, and derision from his peers. So far, the officer remains defended by his coworkers, and unpunished by his superiors.
As all this unfolded, I communicated with my friends from the past and present. My friends from the military checked on me to ensure that I was okay, as did my friends from school. The difference in how they viewed these events highlights what I believe is the change in myself that I stated I am most proud of at the beginning of this paper. My friends from the military were commenting that the assertion of order and control by way of militarized tactics was necessary, not concerning themselves with the human toll and destruction of trust that came along with it. Conversely, my schoolmates lamented the brutality and overstepping of boundaries that the NYPD and Columbia’s administration committed, one that turned a place meant to be a beacon of free speech, expression, and ideas, into what is now a police-state with strict control over who enters it.
My education inside and outside the classroom at this institution has challenged, thrilled, and changed me. Sitting here now, at the end of this paper, the end of the semester, and the end of my time at Columbia University, I am left feeling confused and sad regarding recent events, but also hopeful for the future. I know from experience that the students, teachers, and culture of this school have the power to encourage critical thinking and initiate personal growth. If it did those things for me, surely it can do the same for others

Been a lurker here for a while. Decided to finally make a reddit account to get some input from you guys. Sorry if some of the info is kind of vague, I don't want to dox myself. Any advice/feedback is appreciated.
Demographics:

• Gender: Male
• Race/ethnicity: East asian
• Area: Northeast, small town
• Household: Middle class, combined income of probably around 80k
• Type of school: Semi-competitive small public school (class of probably 100-150ish students)
• Intended Major(s): Undecided but leaning towards biology

ACT/SAT:

• 1520 SAT (Retaking in August to see if I can boost it to a 1550+)

UW/W GPA and Rank:

• UW: 3.85 (I had 8 missing AP chem labs sophomore year 💀)
• Idk W & school doesn't do ranking

Coursework: AP/IB/Dual Enrollment classes, AP/IB scores, etc:

• 13 APs, & a couple honors classes. (10: chem & euro; 11: physics 1, apush, csa, ab, & lang; 12: gov, macro, bc, physics 2, lit, & bio).
• 10: 5 on euro & 4 on chem; 11: Should be able to get mostly 5s on my APs this year.

Awards/Honors:

• Regional science fair 2nd place
• President's Volunteer Service Award gold
• Co-author in a paper published in a kinda high impact journal
• State and regional level awards related to research I've done (Don't wanna dox myself)

Extracurriculars: Include leadership & summer activities

• Research at biomedical research institute; Huge time commitment, 800ish hours spread over 2 years and multiple papers (1 published, 2 ongoing)
• Will be having my work showcased at an international cardiac research conference
• Foundecoordinator of my school district's science fair & connected my school to the regional science fair (11-12)
• Founder and leader of community service corp chapter in my town (10-12)
• Community service; mix of volunteering and recycling stuff that add up to 400ish hours
• NHS president (11-12)
• English tutor for 7-9th grade kids (11-12)
• A couple other leadership positions in school clubs (10-12)
• Member of Tri-M (11-12)
• Harvard summer school
• Piano + a couple of regional competitions (2-12)
• Orchestra (4-12)
• Member of a robotics team (9-12)

Essays/LORs/Other:

• LOR: Lang teacher (Cornell & Columbia alumni, idk if that matters), physics teacher, & the professor I did my research under. I've built good relations with all of them so their LORs should be decent.
• Essays: Haven't started but I'm a decent-ish writer so I should be fine. Will likely focus on my interest in research and biology.
• Other: I'm willing to not apply for any aid/pay full price as I have a relative who is willing to cover my college expenses.

Schools: (Will probably apply for Brown ED & rest EA/RD. Mainly want to know if I have a chance at Brown ED & the t20s)
//Far reach:

• Mit
• Harvard
• Yale
• Upenn
• Duke
• Northwestern
• Columbia
• Uchicago
• Most of the higher-ranked ucs
• Brown
• Cornell

//Reach:

• Umich
• Unc
• Emory
• Uva
• Washu

//Targets:

• Nyu
• Tufts
• Bu
• Purdue
• Lehigh

//Safties:

• Rit
• Buffalo
• Stony Brook
• Rochester

“Bee colonies are complex social structures composed of three main types of bees: queens, workers, and drones,” said the velvety voice.
Ian looked intently at the beekeeper through the mesh of his own bee suit completely mesmerized by the subject content amidst the incredible buzzing of thousands of bees surrounding the apiary. He never dreamed he would be so fascinated by the lives of bees that he would seriously consider specializing in apiculture, but here he was, happy for the first time in a long time.
“The queen bee is the largest bee in the colony and is responsible for laying eggs. She produces chemical pheromones that regulate the behavior and development of the other bees in the colony,” the beekeeper goes on reaching in gingerly, yet with an air expert confidence directly into the hive to extract the queen.
Ian quickly jotted down the info onto the sheet of note taking paper on the clipboard issued at the start of the lab. He quickly glanced over at the other biology students to see if anyone else on the field trip was paying attention. “Not for everyone, I guess,” he says to himself, securing the pen once again under the sturdy silver clip after seeing most other students on their phones or mildly swatting away particularly aggressive bees.
“There is usually only one queen in a colony, and her primary role is to ensure the colony's reproduction by laying fertilized eggs, which develop into worker bees, and unfertilized eggs, which develop into drones.” Her hand now entirely engulfed with bees who were following their queen into her new temporary home inside the palm of the calm beekeeper.
“Tell me about it,” Ian scoffs to himself, annoyed at the disrespectful attitudes of his peers, “..drones everywhere,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes. He then closed his eyes, breathed in and let out a deep sigh, pausing to take in all the sounds of the environment trying to find the happiness again, letting the buzzing of the bees envelope him. Calm again. He breathed in and out and slowly reopened his eyes toward the sound of the beekeeper’s voice, and he quickly noticed the entire class’s attention had shifted to what Ian was now staring at unblinking.
The beekeeper had moved backward and to the right underneath a giant tree shading yet another apiary. The class audibly leaned in to hear the beekeeper.
“Giant honeybees, scientifically known as Apis dorsata, are renowned for their mesmerizing behavior known as shimmering or shimmering waves,” she said motioning to the bees. “Shimmering is a collective movement of bees that occurs on the surface of the nest, creating a visually striking display resembling a wave or ripple.”
Ian broke his wide-eyes stare and glanced around again, his once disinterested classmates were now fully attentive and silent, some were recording the phenomenon on their phones. An “ooh and ahh” escaped a few mouths hardly audible under the constant buzzing.
“This phenomenon is primarily observed in response to external disturbances, such as predators or environmental factors like temperature changes or wind. When a threat approaches the colony, individual bees along the periphery of the nest start to move in a coordinated manner, producing a ripple effect that spreads across the entire surface of the nest.”
The shimmer of the giant honeybees was captivating and otherworldly, and apparently hard to appreciate without being there Ian had concluded, after trying to share his experience to his flat mates who had unanimously decided the shimmer was just “the wave” and that humans are really just getting in touch with their inner bee at football games.
Ian resigned to returning back to the apiary alone since none of his flat mates wanted to or cared to see it for themselves. One thing was certain though, there was something magical about seeing the giant bees shimmer and Ian felt a pull inside to revisit his new winged friends, even though entering the apiary unsupervised, was strictly forbidden.
— Stay Tuned, The Shimmer, II.

“Bee colonies are complex social structures composed of three main types of bees: queens, workers, and drones,” said the velvety voice.
Ian looked intently at the beekeeper through the mesh of his own bee suit completely mesmerized by the subject content amidst the incredible buzzing of thousands of bees surrounding the apiary. He never dreamed he would be so fascinated by the lives of bees that he would seriously consider specializing in apiculture, but here he was, happy for the first time in a long time.
“The queen bee is the largest bee in the colony and is responsible for laying eggs. She produces chemical pheromones that regulate the behavior and development of the other bees in the colony,” the beekeeper goes on reaching in gingerly, yet with an air of expert confidence directly into the hive to extract the queen.
Ian quickly jotted down the info onto the sheet of note taking paper on the clipboard issued at the start of the lab. He quickly glanced over at the other biology students to see if anyone else on the field trip was paying attention. “Not for everyone, I guess,” he says to himself, securing the pen once again under the sturdy silver clip after seeing most other students on their phones or mildly swatting away particularly aggressive bees.
“There is usually only one queen in a colony, and her primary role is to ensure the colony's reproduction by laying fertilized eggs, which develop into worker bees, and unfertilized eggs, which develop into drones.” Her hand now entirely engulfed with bees who were following their queen into her new temporary home inside the palm of the calm beekeeper.
“Tell me about it,” Ian scoffs to himself, annoyed at the disrespectful attitudes of his peers, “..drones everywhere,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes. He then closed his eyes, breathed in and let out a deep sigh, pausing to take in all the sounds of the environment trying to find the happiness again, letting the buzzing of the bees envelope him. Calm again. He breathed in and out and slowly reopened his eyes toward the sound of the beekeeper’s voice, and he quickly noticed the entire class’s attention had shifted to what Ian was now staring at unblinking.
The beekeeper had moved backward and to the right underneath a giant tree shading yet another apiary. The class audibly leaned in to hear the beekeeper.
“Giant honeybees, scientifically known as Apis dorsata, are renowned for their mesmerizing behavior known as shimmering or shimmering waves,” she said motioning to the bees. “Shimmering is a collective movement of bees that occurs on the surface of the nest, creating a visually striking display resembling a wave or ripple.”
Ian broke his wide-eyes stare and glanced around again, his once disinterested classmates were now fully attentive and silent, some were recording the phenomenon on their phones. An “ooh and ahh” escaped a few mouths hardly audible under the constant buzzing.
“This phenomenon is primarily observed in response to external disturbances, such as predators or environmental factors like temperature changes or wind. When a threat approaches the colony, individual bees along the periphery of the nest start to move in a coordinated manner, producing a ripple effect that spreads across the entire surface of the nest.”
The shimmer of the giant honeybees was captivating and otherworldly, and apparently hard to appreciate without being there Ian had concluded, after trying to share his experience to his flat mates who had unanimously decided the shimmer was just “the wave” and that humans are really just getting in touch with their inner bee at football games.
Ian resigned to returning back to the apiary alone since none of his flat mates wanted to or cared to see it for themselves. One thing was certain though, there was something magical about seeing the giant bees shimmer and Ian felt a pull inside to revisit his new winged friends, even though entering the apiary unsupervised, was strictly forbidden.

• Stay tuned for The Shimmer, II.

Hi, does anyone have the CSL DD mounting pattern printout for 8.5"x11" rather than A4 paper? A4 is harder to come by in the US. Fanatec's website only has it for A4 paper and its nearly impossible to scale properly

This is a crossover fanfiction between original fiction titles: Nature of Predators by SpacePaladin15 and The Last Angel by Proximal Flame respectively. All credit and rights reserved goes to them for making such amazing science fiction settings that I wanted to put this together.
You can read The Last Angel here: Be warned, it's decently long, and at its third installment so far. I highly suggest reading it before reading this, or this story will not make sense.

Otherwise, enjoy the story! Thanks again to u/jesterra54 and u/skais01 for beta and checking of work!
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Memory transcription subject: Governor Tarva of the Venlil Republic
Date [standardized human time]: October 22, 2136
The reveal of the Arxur's assistance of Earth was a unsettling, but mostly overlooked note to add to the headlines filling news sites today on Venlil Prime.
UNKNOWN SHIP DEVASTATES FEDERATION FLEET ABOVE EARTH, HUMANITY LIVES
While the ship wasn't currently unknown to us, given the UN's report, General Kam had advised that it would be better left unspoken of what capabilities we did know, so as to not worry the populace. "Leave causing panic to the humans" he said. But I heard the worries and anxious rumors throughout both social media and verbal conversations...
"That ship destroyed an ENTIRE fleet!?"
"Oh Protector, please tell me its not an Arxur vessel..."
"Why don't we know more?"
I couldn't help but feel for my people. I came to disagree with Kam's advice more and more, as I wished desperately to allay their fears of it being an Arxur superweapon, or that it was going to destroy us soon, or other similar worries.
Are you so sure yourself, Tarva? Even the UN government is scared of it, and it supposedly was made by a future Humanity...
I tried not to focus on that pang of paranoia. I just hoped soon enough the UN would make a statement on the Nemesis already. As I accompanied Noah to the UN's remembrance speech today, I did my best to scan for the feelings worn on peoples faces. The Venlil were unsettled as before, but the human refugees were an odder story altogether.
They were devastated, and scared as well as us Venlil were. But on top of it, I could see a common face worn of confusion. The information disambiguation hadn't made its way to Venlil Prime like it had Earth, and as such they were as much in the dark as the public here was. I could only imagine their uncertainty, knowing their race was likely saved by something they had no idea about.
Noah spoke out of nowhere. "I feel for the refugees here. Forced to an unfamiliar place, so unofficially hostile to them, and now they learn of Nemesis like this? I'd be as confused as them in their place." He checked his suit, attending to shift it so slightly as to make him look better in it. "I also can't imagine your opponents didn't run the whole ball with their existence here, too. Are we taxing you harshly, Tarva?"
I gripped his hand tighter. "No, Noah. While there are those that want you off-planet, I will not let them kick you off. I'll fight for you, no matter the cost."
"Seems like anywhere we go, we cause a fight some way or another. Pops always said space was our ticket to a better future, yet all we seem to cause is trouble for merely existing."
"Noah, its not your people's fault we're afraid of you. The Arxur are to blame for that, and we're at fault for holding it against you. What happened to Earth was not your doing, you tried your best, and it just was not convincing enough for millennia of cultural momentum."
He smiled at that, a muted, but still genuine smile. "Thank you Tarva. I'm glad you see the best in us, even when we don't."
I continued to scan the crowd, looking for the sight of Meier. He always seemed alight in diplomacy whenever he was around, it was a strength of his, outshining the room like that. I could only hope he was doing okay in the current state of Earth. The last time we talked, he seemed very tired, very...frustrated with everything.
But I was glad to see him in some his element soon after, amongst a group of dignitaries from other Federation species. He seemed to be listening to a Mazic diplomat, one I remembered by the name of Cupo. Sadly, however, despite Meier's attempt, it seems the conversation was not on a good track.
"-they're a menace to the rest of the galaxy, and you just let them in, not so soon after this ship blindsided an entire Federation fleet out of nowhere!?"
Meier dejectedly sighed. "Cupo, I thought I already told you, when the Arxur showed up, we had no capability to tell them to take a hike. They were ten-thousand strong and we barely managed several hundred ships left. That they even engaged in dialogue rather than just subjugation was a surprise to me."
"That doesn't make much sense either, Elias Meier. Since when do the Arxur play merciful? You're not telling us something here, and it curls my trunk in knots. How can we trust you when you can't even give us the details on what that ship is, or why the Arxur even showed up in its stead?"
The Mazic was not interested in Meier's friendly act, not giving any room for benefit of the doubt. The other diplomats crowded around began to mumble in agreement, as Meier stood there, formulating some response.
"What we do know about the ship and the Arxur, we'll clear up publically later in this event. But neither were expected by us, you have to believe me. Humanity is just as confused as you all are on the results of that battle, and-"
Cupo interrupted this time, clearly not willing to hear an explanation out. "You're running out of trust, Human. We think you ought to be given a chance; as the empathy studies show, you're not the Arxur. But associating with them as you are, with little transparency is not doing you favors with us, and if you want further association with us, you'd best cut ties with those monsters sooner, rather than later." The Mazic's ears hung in displeasure, and I could sense the nervousness in Meier as he stood down one of the races in the room far bigger than he was. Whether Cupo knew it or not, Meier was intimidated by his presence, and was trying to keep it cool to some degree. "We'll at most help with the Gojid refugees at the moment, as they've suffered both of your kind, but beyond that, consider it on hold until that problem is resolved."
They walked away, and some of the alien crowd amongst them followed. The only ones still sticking around seemed to be a Yotul diplomat, a Nevok, and a Fissan. The latter two stuck obviously to discuss more trade details, seeking to cut the other off from Earth to a degree in hopes of exploiting the system, but the Yotul was a surprise. I didn't even realize they had sent one this way.
Given the relatively new uplift of their world, I didn't imagine the Yotul having much stake or spread throughout the galaxy, so how did humanity...?
Meier turned to him. "Ah...Ambassador Laulo, I'm sorry you had to see that. We're...not doing so hot in the grand scheme of things, and some relations are boiling over as a result."
Laulo enthusiastically shook his head in denial. "No, it's okay! I understand the feeling of that persecution, even if it's for a different reason. Feels like the galaxy kicking you while you're already down."
"I appreciate any help we can get in regards to this. You're one of the very few races left that's pledged some sense of unconditional aid. I promise, with all I have in my power, I'll try and return the favor-Tarva!" Elias noticed my presence at last. "I...uh, how long have you been standing there?..."
"Long enough to hear most of it. I'm sorry the more neutral species aren't helping any, Meier. But that's not why I'm here, specifically. We need to talk about the human refugees."
Meier looked at me funny with that statement, as if he wasn't expecting something out of me. "I see...I hope it's not anything too bad, is it?"
I silently cringed at the exact words. Noah filled in the details in my stead. "Meier, the refugees here are seeing images of Earth, of those not too horribly in shock to do anything, there's been an uptick in suicides...a massive uptick. They aren't aware of the full story, due to the Venlil government's reluctance to publish the report sent here publicly. This remembrance speech better give the people here a semblance of peace, of stability, because there's an extreme lack of morale left in the camps."
Meier grimaced and scanned the crowd, glancing at the humans that were here. I assume he too could see how dejected many were, how many seemed at the end of their rope, coming here for the slightest hint of hope left in their lives at the news. They would need some good news, or there was a chance some wouldn't be here tomorrow.
I felt for them. They didn't deserve this, and our intentional censor of the details, so that Meier could deliver the news likely didn't help with the rates.
"I get that Noah. I really do. What happened at Earth was a tragedy, and the death toll is nearly 800 million. You could likely gather a group of ten or so humans from anywhere, and one of them lost someone close to them. I'll...do my best to raise their spirits, there's plenty to talk about here. The alien diplomats just aren't making this easy..." Meier gestured to the clearly forming bloc of neutral species dignitaries that gathered in the room. They did not seem to want to talk further on any support of Earth until some demands were met, mostly on why things were kept so information-blackout heavy at first. The speech would have to be twofold, at raising human refugees' spirits, and at convincing some of the touchy species to support Earth.
His work was cut out for him.
"Did you wish for any assistance on that front, Meier?" Noah offered. His kindness shone through even in the depths of despair that wore
itself on humanity currently. His soul was purely sweet and kind, regardless of his predator disposition, I so deeply respected that about him.
They began to talk shop, Noah mentioning his current experiences with human refugees upon Venlil Prime, and what topics Meier ought to add on and hit on in his speech. As rushed of advice as it was, Meier seemed determined to fit it in somehow, but I knew he had a silver tongue, his capability to navigate and convince was downright bewildering, present company excepted of course. Nothing would get those species over his diet anytime soon, so I could only hope he could appeal to their empathy as another sentient in this case.
I believed in them. If anyone could turn the state of the galaxy around, it would be these two.
Memory transcription subject: Dorian Abder, Commons Member of Parliament
Date [standardized human time]: October 22, 2136
I sat on my desk, watching out the window of my office at the Westminster Palace, reminiscing on the sad scene outside. Another body under cloth cover, wheeled out on a stretcher from a home surrounded by paramedics. Another swept up in despair, seeing the state of our beautiful planet, of our populace, so brutally scarred, enough to take their own life.
How many was it, so far? Nearly a half-percent suicide rate for every hundred thousand in England? More than eight times the highest resting rate in our entire history. And we were hardly hit in comparison to the rest of the world...how are they doing if it's this bad here?
I leaned back in my chair, back cracking in old age, forcing myself away from the scene outside. I tried to not think about it, just tried to focus again on my work. On the coordination efforts with the UN, the Arxur, and any other races seeking to help. But it was a mountain of work ahead, a peak of papers I could barely see myself climbing in an entire week, let alone the mere day it was handed down here.
We've all lost someone. Not a single soul hasn't been touched by the Federation's bombing.
I thought about how the targeting of cities took. How they focused so heavily on Africa and Asia, the most booming corridors of population on Earth. How they erased 78 cities from existence before their fleet was devastated by The Sword. They weren't aiming to cripple humanity, on industrial depots and power plants, but to exterminate us. They aimed for the most populated cities first, before taking potshots at what remained.
Being put to the death by The Sword serves them right, they deserved judgement by that blade for what they had done.
Or, rather, the Nemesis, as reports had given us. A human ship, but not quite our humanity. A time traveler conveniently sent here by accident, saving us from extinction. An AI piloted ship that sought now to reunite with Earth having defended us. Given what remained of our Guardian Angel, I sought to do everything I could to make their welcome home a celebration, for they defended humanity in our darkest hour.
I recalled my journeys around the globe as a younger man. How my endless wanderlust took me to every corner of the globe in the wake of the Satellite Wars. How the global power vacuum led to so much relief efforts, as the less-touched nations finally had room to breathe, the canopy of carefully controlled superpowers no longer eating up their light needed to grow. How African countries like South Africa and Niger found themselves expanding to match the designation of First World. How beautiful the Seychelles were to see in person.
How my volunteering in the UN's Unfurled Umbrella Initiatives after the Treaty of Shanghai took me to the partially collapsed countries amidst Asia. How Tokyo, despite its immense infrastructure failure, dragged itself back to a powerhouse of a city, as Japan built for itself after so long. How China's government reformed into a Republic after the post-war coups, and how Taiwan finally opened its heart more to them for it. How Beijing found itself all the stronger for adversity.
How the South and Central Americas found themselves no longer under the impressive hand of the United States' geopolitical influence. How the first Diaspora vessels took off from Argentina, seeking to establish a government sentenced only to the annals of history on Earth upon the distant surfaces of Mars. How they were so determined to prove the world wrong on its presuppositions of how a place should be ruled, free of the influence of bullying countries. And how their dream led to the now Martian Collective.
I thought of all the other places the UN took me. Of Cairo, and its deep connection to our most prominent civilization of the ancient past. Of Istanbul, to see the beauty of mixing Christian and Islamic influence over centuries of swapping hands. Of the stunning ports of Singapore, an industrial powerhouse of a nation, so tightly packed into one single city. Of the stunning silver forest of skyscrapers that was New York City, still kicking even after the devastation of the Satellite Wars. Mumbai, Baghdad, Lagos, Mogadishu, Guadalajara, Rio De Janeiro, Berlin. How I drank in all the beauty and magnificent history and culture of the world, and was all the fuller a person for it. These and so many more.
I thought of the honey farmer I met by the Saigon River; how Châu Được's family had kept the traditional job going for so long, and divinely sweet their harvest was they shared with me. I thought of Dari Qazi, how the humble Afghani-borne man had found himself at the forefront of a secular revolution in Pakistan, reaching unrivaled progress not seen since the 1980's. I remembered the ambitious young woman in Monterrey, Mexico, who talked to me of her dreams to build spaceships for the Diaspora program, how she wished dearly she could leave a mark on history, and how now her name was on the finest rockets of the age.
All gone. Dust on the wind. Atomized debris now. Their homes, their families, their history gone, according to reports of which cities have evaporated to bedrock.
Thousands of years of history, erased in moments by antimatter over Rome. Los Angeles was reduced to the basin it was built on those long years ago in America. Cape Town's hard fought for progress from humble beginnings to the most populous and prosperous city in all of Africa, wiped from the record in an instant. Seven-hundred and eighty million dead in the span of an hour.
All those years spent, traveling around the world, drinking in the sights, to know they will never return. To know they are gone and buried, snuffed out by a bloody cruel universe, filled with utterly contemptible aliens. A deep voice spoke inside me on a loop, constantly asking an enraging question.
"Did it all mean nothing to you, Dorian?"
There was only one answer I considered giving to that accusation. To the monsters that took so many lives and homes from humanity, merely for having the gall to eat differently. What answered back blistered with hatred, yet kept frigidly focused.
"It meant everything to me."
Something clicked inside; the Federation wouldn't get away with this. We deserved justice. I rustled through my desk drawers, looking for old contacts from my political days. The stacks of papers on my desk could wait, this was more important. I needed to make some calls. Humanity deserved better, and I knew just how we could get it. But it would require a far more coordinated effort than just me. No, it needed a movement.
The galaxy will hear us. One way or another, we deserve justice. And we have just the circumstances to deliver it...
Memory transcription subject: Governor Tarva of the Venlil Republic
Date [standardized human time]: October 22, 2136
"-the sting of these days will someday pass. Maybe not in the near future, maybe not even in our lifetime, but we will one day no longer feel his pain, this suffering. Until that day comes, we will not go gently into that dark night, we will live on, mourn our dead, defend those still living, and make humanity known to the galaxy that it will not roll over when faced with such hostility. To those who support us even now, I thank you deeply to the core, and ask for a moment of silence to those lost both above and on Earth...to those who would stand with the Federation, who did so cruelly act upon us, we urge you to reconsider, and turn away, for we bring not a olive branch, but a sword. Those species governments that did this will not get away with this, and those who stood aside and watched...either choose a side, or be labeled on one for your inaction. Thank you."
Meier finished his speech with that, and some applause was heard from human refugees amidst the crowd, but a majority remained mostly quiet, in remembrance of the lives lost. A good majority of the dignitaries from the Federation neutral races had already left by this point, so the pointed message at the end likely missed them personally, even if they listen in later. It was a good speech, but it felt...infused with something that was clearly not Meier's normal calm. It was like seeing a side I had never seen with him before, not rant-angry, but mad nevertheless, hidden behind a veneer of diplomatic politeness.
Noah put it in terms I thought best as Meier walked off stage. "You're a bit more of a firebrand than I thought Meier, but nevertheless a good speech! I'm glad you tied in what advice I could give for the refugees here so smoothly."
Meier smiled at that, a cathartic smile that spoke of being proud of what he delivered just a moment ago. I could only imagine he was aching with tension over the pain of so much loss of life, it was only fair that he be angry at the galaxy at large for it, and make it heard.
"Thank you, Noah. I sincerely mean every word of it. The Federation must not escape scot-free for what they have done, and already now at home we're preparing to bring the fight back to them." He looked at me. "We'll...obviously not go as far as the Federation did, but I speak for everyone in that humanity is not happy, and it shows. Even the refugees that came here looking a mere instant from giving up seem a bit resolved now to that goal. I just wish more were on our side to start...I never wanted war, but the galaxy's forcing it."
"I'm so sorry, Meier. My deepest sympathies for how the galaxy has treated you and yours. Despite the hiccups recently, I guarantee we'll still remain close allies; humanity deserves nothing less."
The remainder of the species in the remembrance assembly started to funnel out; it was mostly just humans and Venlil at this point, but a few stuck around. The Yotul ambassador, Laulo, was an obvious one amongst the stragglers, clearly meaning to talk with Meier and us further. As the room became more and more empty he walked over to us once again.
"Meier! Your speech was wonderful, full of spice and vigor, yet calming all the same. It was like a call to arms while smoking spiritwood. The Federation stragglers hopefully will reconsider!"
I felt a little weirded out by his choice of focus in the speech on The Federation, rather than humanity, but I responded in Meier's stead positively: "Yes, Meier's an expert in political and social matters. Anyways, what did you want? You seem to be just hanging around, waiting for a moment here."
"Ah...yes, about that..." Ambassador Laulo nervously tugged at his uniform. "I was sent here initially just in good faith for humanity, as we knew what it must've felt like for the Federation to bully you so immensely. But this second visit, to the gala itself...we actually want to propose something to Humanity and the Venlil, but I wanted to wait for Federation sympathizing eyes and ears to be far away from here first."
He looked somewhat desperate, but resolved. "We're planning on breaking off from the Federation. Their influence on our planet is awful, given what they've done to us during the uplift. They seek to repress our culture, they constantly call us backward, and primitive, hardly capable of thinking for our own in this galaxy. We're tired of it, but we still are partially relying on their technological development to get to this point, and we don't have a proper fleet made. Your space is closest to ours, and we hoped-"
Meier finished "-that'd we begin our war fronting towards Leirn first? Free your people from the Federation? I'll gladly bring it up with our military advisors. You helped us, we help you back."
Laulo sighed in relief at that, a huge weight taken off their shoulders. "T-thank you. Thank you so much for this. Leirn has sought to be free of their grasp ever since we learned their intentions were not pure. You've been the first species to actually care to some degree, and were our only hope out of this mess."
"Don't thank us just yet. If you'd like to get in contact with our military, I can set you up with some Generals and your government as a liason for the war. You can coordinate anything on your side of the bargain to us through them, and make this smoother." Meier handed him a card, and waved over a human attendant of his to Laulo. She talked with him as the two walked away, and Meier remained.
Noah turned to me, a warm hand scruffing my fur. "I know the state of things doesn't look too great, love, but it could be so much worse. We'll make due with what we can get, and hopefully the galaxy will be a better place for it. Don't worry, all will be well someday."
I believed him. Who wouldn't believe in humanity?
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I’m trying to solve the heat equation for the Ohmic heating of a pipe flow using the MATLAB pdepe solver. The problem is described in the following paper: https://doi.org/10.4236/ojmsi.2021.91002. This paper also contains the solution for the axial bulk temperature profile. Unfortunately, I don't find the same solution, and I wonder if anyone could help me find the error.
The simplified heat equation for this case becomes:
𝜌𝐶𝑝𝑣𝑧∂𝑇∂𝑧=𝑘𝑟∂∂𝑟(𝑟∂𝑇∂𝑟)+𝑄̂. 𝑄̂=𝜎𝐸2 is the heat source due to the Ohmic heating (this is also defined in the paper). 𝑣𝑧=2𝑉𝑎𝑣𝑔(1−(𝑥𝐷/2)2) is the classical solution for the axial velocity of the fluid in the pipe.
Please find the values of the constants in the code below.
The boundary conditions are:
𝑇(𝑧=0,𝑟)=40°𝐶,
∂𝑇∂𝑟𝑧,𝑟(=0)=0,
−𝑘∂𝑇∂𝑟𝑧,𝑟(=𝐷/2)=ℎ(𝑇(𝑧,𝑟=𝐷/2)−𝑇∞).
Please find my Matlab code below. Note that in order to be able to use the Matlab pdepe solver, the time argument in the solver corresponds with the axial coordinate 𝑧. Another important remark is that I want to solve it with the option 𝑚=0.
Any help/comments/remarks will be greatly appreciated. Thanks in advance!

%% Main code m=0; r=linspace(0,0.025,1000); % m r corresponds with x z=linspace(0,2.5,1000); % m z corresponds with t sol=pdepe(m,@pdex1pde,@ic1pde,@bc1pde,r,z); u=sol(:,:,1); % u=T % Figure I'm trying to recreate figure plot(z,u(:,1)) title('Axial bulk temperature distribution') xlabel('z') ylabel('T(z,r=0)') %% Functions % Definition of the PDE function [c,f,s]=pdex1pde(x,t,u,DuDx) % Parameters T_0=40; %°C k=0.6178; % W/m*°C rho=992.2; % kg/m^3 C_p=4182; % J/kg*°C m=82.5/3600; % kg/s R=25*10^(-3); % m D=50*10^(-3); % m A=pi*R^2; % m^2 V_gem=m/(rho*A); % kg m k_0=0.015; % 1/°C^3 /s elec_cond=0.998*(1+k_0*(u-T_0)); % S/m v_z=2*V_gem*(1-(x^2/(D/2)^2)); % kg m^3 /s Volt=2304; % V L=2.5; % m Q=(elec_cond*(Volt/L)^2)*x/k); c=(rho*C_p*v_z*x/k); f=x*DuDx; s=Q; end % "Initial" condition function u0=ic1pde(x) u0=40; end % Boundary conditions function [pl,ql,pr,qr]= bc1pde(xl,ul,xr,ur,t) % Parameters T_amb=20; % °C T_0=40; % °C h=10; % W/m^2*°C k=0.6178; % W/m*°C pl=0; % left is ul=0 ql=1; % p+qf=0 pr=h*(ur-T_amb); qr=k/xr; end