Hello redditors of antiMLM,
Just this week, I received an email from a relation advertising FOREVER—not to be confused with Forever Living. Searching through this sub, I found a few short references over the last years with little detail. In one, a commentor described FOREVER stating "as mlms go, it seems ethical." Every red light went off while I looked into these “FOREVER Ambassadors.” I then began a search, with much of the ultimate work done by my spouse. It took longer than seemed acceptable to identify this MLM for people who glanced over the internet. FOREVER is not listed on any of the MLM databases I could find from this sub or elsewhere. Based on the mandatory “FOREVER Ambassador Community” on Facebook, now 8 years old, at least 2,500 people have gotten into their clutches at some point (I haven’t linked because I think it might be against the sub rules).
Thus, for the benefit and enjoyment of the people, here are references for the community to identify a yet-another-multi-level-marketing scheme. I am a sarcastic person, so be forewarned. All sources were publicly available and required no logins or access.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
(1) Background of the FOREVER business model
(2) The FOREVER Ambassador program
(3) Costs of serving as an Ambassador
(4) Compensation advertised for Ambassadors
(4a) Income in cash from personal sales
(4b) The downline system used by FOREVER
(4c) Non-monetary-achievement compensation
(5) FOREVER Ambassador Business Training
(6) Conclusion down to brass tax on FOREVER
STUDY OF FOREVER
(1) Background of the FOREVER business model
FOREVER is an online service that advertises it can be a “permanent digital home that lasts for many generations.”[1] This is to be accomplished via a so-called “FOREVER Guarantee Fund” that invests to pay for digital storage for over 100 years.[1] Their website promises me that “permanent” is “not a buzzword”—I think that’s the Platonian ideal of a buzzword.[1] Regardless, this is not a quality review post.
(2) The FOREVER Ambassador program
The sellers used by FOREVER are called “FOREVER Ambassadors.”[2] As advertised, it looks like a classic MLM pitch. You can “earn up to 35%” commission” while having “the freedom to work from home, and the flexibility to make money on your own schedule.”[2] FOREVER lists various opportunities, such as “trainings” and the ability to “learn and grow with friends,” as well as “make life-long friends.”[2] As part of the “Meet our Team” webpage for corporate FOREVER, there are multiple “Executive Ambassadors” listed.[3] There is no barrier to entry on experience required to become an Ambassador.[4] I observed that, throughout the internet and on the FOREVER website, the vast majority of Ambassadors are women—as you know, many MLMs target women and moms.
(3) Costs of serving as an Ambassador
FOREVER has, at minimum, an “Annual Ambassador Fee” that is the primary cost to entry of the program.[2] For $179 a year, one would receive “back office tools,” various marketing materials, and “countless opportunities”—maybe money, but more on that soon.[2] There is a link to an Ambassador’s own selling website.[5, at 22] This Ambassador fee “is subject to change over time.”[5, at 25] There is also a FOREVER Merchandise store where Ambassadors can get their supplies.[6] These include a 40-pack set of catalogs for $44.99 and a $144.99 tablecloth for potential customers during in-person events.[6]
For Ambassadors, FOREVER advertises there are “free training events.”[5, at 25] Each year, for $399 in 2024, Ambassadors can attend the 3-day “FOREVER Live” event.[7] It is in the destination getaway of… next to their headquarters in Pittsburgh, PA (I’m sorry Pittsburgh, you’re a beautiful city).[5, at 24] It is also possible to pay for a “p2P Virtual Party” and “p2P Live Events,” but is unclear what those mean.[5, at 5] Various “ranks” of Ambassadors receive a “monthly stipend” starting at $25 a month after $15,000 total in personal plus team sales a year.[5, at 9]
(4) Compensation advertised for Ambassadors
(4a) Income in cash from personal sales
FOREVER pays its Ambassadors based on a “cash sales” versus “full sales” system.[5, at 5] The too-long-didn’t-read summary is that some products are paid less commission than others because of “margin” of different products.[5, at 5–6] Critically, the Personal Commission Rate is where our story kicks into gear. At the bottom, an Ambassador who sells less than $2,000 a year in sales receives the windfall of a 15% commission.[5, at 7] The number rises to 34% once sales are $90,000 or greater in one year (I don’t know where the 35% from earlier went).[5, at 7] However, to earn the 20% commission or more once one passes the $2,000 sales amount requires completion of the “FOREVER Ambassador Business (FAB) Training.”[5, at 7] I read it, more on that later.
You might ask, “Is there a sales quota for FOREVER® Ambassadors?” FOREVER says “no.”[8] However, the less one does the less FOREVER pays Ambassadors for what they do (this chart is older than the Compensation Guide cited).[8]
(4b) The downline system used by FOREVER
Of course, while it took forever to reach here, we come to the “downline” process—FOREVER’s words, not mine.[5, at 9] FOREVER immediately identified that new Ambassadors “choose another Ambassador to mentor you as you grow your business” (I do not know if this means an upline).[2] Nevertheless, “Team Sales” are compensated by FOREVER down to the 5th Line.[5, at 9] If an Ambassador does not build a team, then they do not earn Team Commissionable Cash Sales Commissions.[5, at 9] FOREVER states that getting new Ambassadors “to sign up under your name” is how you help “further your business.”[9]
However, even if an Ambassador builds a team, they receive a very restricted downline compensation if they do not make a minimum of personal sales.[5, at 9] For future reference, an “Associate Ambassador,” the bottom, makes less than $2,000 and earns no downline sales.[5, at 9] An “Ambassador,” second to last, is the first rank with a downline commission (4% for 1st Line), requiring $2,000/personal a year.[5, at 9] To reach “Senior Ambassador,” third to last, and above, a FOREVER Ambassador must start earning exponentially greater amounts of personal plus team sales to rise in the “ranks.”[5, at 9] A Senior Ambassador requires $8,000/personal but $15,000/gross, and is the first to get 2nd Line commission (4% for 1st Line and 2% for 2nd Line).[5, at 9] It is unclear to me if “new members” must be recruited “each month” to rankup—the website says so, but I see it nowhere in the Compensation Guide.[8]
At the top of hierarchy, there become two “Executive Ambassadors.”[5, at 9–10] These ranks start at $28,000/personal and $250,000/gross a year.[5, at 9] As well, one must have at least three “Team Leaders” in their 1st Line.[5, at 10] Team Leaders refers to Ambassadors who have themselves reached the rank of “Associate Lead Ambassador” ($12,000/personal and $30,000/gross).[5, at 9] FOREVER advertises that the Executive ranks are for—and I am not making this up—those Ambassadors who are “grooming FOREVER Leaders on your team below you.”[5, at 10] Irony is dead folks.
(4c) Non-monetary-achievement compensation
Because being paid to work is overrated, FOREVER will also provide “Additional Benefits” to its various ranks. As an Associate Ambassador, you can join the aforementioned Facebook Group and hear the CEO talk on a monthly phone call.[5, at 11] Regular Ambassadors also get a certificate to put on their wall.[5, at 11] Senior Ambassadors get a standing ovation at FOREVER Live!—you can even be ovated on stage as an Associate Lead Ambassador (I would pay $179 a year to not).[5, at 13–14] My observation is that a lot of ranks mostly provide additional types of standing ovations at FOREVER Live! and reserved seats for dinners there.
But then you can reach the pinnacle of Everest (that much like the real one, other people just carry you up there): the Million Dollar Club.[5, at 20] For making $1 million in personal and team sales in a year, one will earn a single $10,000 dollar bonus.[5, at 20] If you are then a “top-performing Ambassador,” one can be taken on the “Achievement Gathering,” to Jamaica in 2024, to mill around with other top-performing Ambassadors—and the corporate staff.[5, at 24] There is no mention how many people earn it or how much must be earned.[5, at 24]
(5) FOREVER Ambassador Business Training
I mentioned earlier that Ambassadors must complete a “FAB” training to receive more than 15% in commissions.[5, at 7] To hit this post home, I wanted to identify some highlights. The FAB training has 5 Steps to reach regular Ambassador status.[10, at 4] These Steps include such activities as “Meet with your Upline” (Step 1), “Connect with your Upline” (Step 2), “Meet with your Upline” (Step 3), “Meet with your Upline” (Step 4), and “Meet with your Upline” (Step 5).[10, at 7, 10, 12, 14, 16] You also have to join the FOREVER Facebook group and any created by your Team (just “ask your Upline” to find it).[10, at 6–7] There’s a task in Step 2 to create an introductory “Share List,” with five lines each for “Friends,” “Teachers,” and your own “Parents/Grandparents.”[10, at 7–9] For an unclear number of hours, you must attend multiple weekly and monthly “training opportunities” and “calls.”[10, at 6–7, 10] And one last item, to rank up in FOREVER, you must register for an upcoming event.[10, at 12] As of writing, the only one listed on the linked webpage is the $399 FOREVER Live! conference.[11]
(6) Conclusion down to brass tax on FOREVER
I was unable to find an Income Disclosure Statement for FOREVER. However, basic math tells us that an Associate Ambassador, the bottom, can only earn up to $300 a year.[5, at 11] To reach regular Ambassador, which includes signing up and beginning all the time sinks listed above, the maximum personal commission is $1,200, in addition to whatever downline (however big those are on average).[5, at 11] Without a downline, even the top-bracket personal sellers are the only ones to earn more than $30,000 a year.[5, at 7] The Federal Reserve Bank of St. Louis estimates that the Real Median Personal Income in the United States for 2022 was $40,480.[12]
There is one way to make it with FOREVER: to build a downline. It’s a multi-level-marketing scheme, and no one should join it. Unless of course, you want to join my downline—I promise you'll be rich just like me.
LIST OF REFERENCES
[1] “Our Story,” FOREVER.com (accessed May 18, 2024), https://www.forever.com/our-story
[2] “Become a FOREVER Ambassador,” FOREVER.com (accessed May 18, 2024), https://www.forever.com/opportunity
[3] “Meet Our Team,” FOREVER.com (accessed May 18, 2024), https://www.forever.com/our-story/team
[4] “What is required of me as a FOREVER Ambassador?,” FOREVER.com Support (accessed May 18, 2024 [updated “2 years ago”]), https://support.forever.com/hc/en-us/articles/215823437-What-is-required-of-me-as-a-FOREVER-Ambassador
[5] Ambassador Compensation Guide, FOREVER (Jan. 31, 2024), https://www.forever.com/app/users/forevealbums/ambassador-kit/f3ii4wzeewd0nfwg4nb40kyw1/files/1043b0c6-de01-4aff-a1e3-83db7e6b1b17
[6] “FOREVER Merchandise,” FOREVER.com Ambassador Training (accessed May 18, 2024), https://www.training.forever.com/store
[7] “FOREVER Live! 2024,” FOREVER.com (accessed May 18, 2024), https://www.forever.com/events/forever-live-2024
[8] “Is there a sales quota for FOREVER® Ambassadors?,” FOREVER.com Support (accessed May 18, 2024 [updated “2 years ago”]), https://support.forever.com/hc/en-us/articles/215142548-Is-there-a-sales-quota-for-FOREVER-Ambassadors
[9] “Downline,” FOREVER.com Support (accessed May 18, 2024 [updated “2 years ago”]), https://support.forever.com/hc/en-us/articles/221072448-Downline
[10] FOREVER Ambassador Business Training, FOREVER (May 14, 2024), https://www.forever.com/app/users/ambassador-training/albums/02-forever-ambassador-business-training-booklet/qcg622q43zy6835w9ojq3wkw/files/f0bd2387-bb14-43a2-a46d-344a91470147
[11] “Events,” FOREVER.com (accessed May 18, 2024), https://www.forever.com/events
[12] “Real Median Personal Income in the United States,” Federal Reserve of St. Louis (accessed May 18, 2024), https://fred.stlouisfed.org/series/MEPAINUSA672N
POST EDITS
A few formatting errors and a minor phrasing correction.

I work in apartment maintenance, we had to switch from Bradford Whites to AO smiths recently, but now to the AO Smiths the residents are complaining that the water is only lasting 5 mins hot then to cold. The problem only fixes it self when we close the line to the heater (HVAC) but now their heater won't warm up their unit now obviously. If you guys have any idea that would be great. Thanks.
Edit: Forgot to mention 2 out of the 5 we have put in so far dont have this issue

By David North
On April 25, 2024, Bogdan Syrotiuk, the 25-year-old leader of the Young Guard of Bolshevik-Leninists (the YGBL), a socialist-Trotskyist organization active in Ukraine, Russia and throughout the former USSR, was arrested by the notorious state security service of the fascistic Zelensky regime, the SBU. Bogdan is being held in atrocious conditions in a high security prison in the city of Nikolaev (Mykolaiv), which is located in southern Ukraine.
The International Committee of the Fourth International (ICFI), the world Trotskyist movement with which the YGBL is politically affiliated, has finally obtained the actual documents in which the SBU presents its charges against Bogdan Syrotiuk. These documents, which form the basis of his detention, make absolutely clear that Bogdan is the victim of a monstrous state frame-up. The allegations concocted by the SBU are a crude combination of lies, obvious fabrications, and political absurdities.
Moreover, the documents submitted by the SBU are directed not only against Bogdan. They are nothing less than a declaration of war against all left-wing and socialist opposition to the Zelensky regime and, specifically, the International Committee of the Fourth International and its public organ, the World Socialist Web Site.
The central allegation leveled against Bogdan Syrotiuk is that he is guilty of high treason. The basis of this charge is that Bogdan has been for the past two years “engaged in the preparation of publications commissioned by representatives of a Russian propaganda and information agency, the World Socialist Web Site” [emphasis added.]
The World Socialist Web Site is denounced as an instrument of “an active information war against Ukraine” being waged by Russia, which

uses the so-called “left-wing” propagandists and their information platforms (websites, media and social platforms) to discredit the support of Ukraine by international partners, justify Russia’s armed aggression against Ukraine, accusing Western countries of creating conditions under which Russia was forced to launch the so-called special military operation, fomenting wars in Ukraine by providing it with weapons, etc. As a result, they are used by Russia to systematically convey pro-Kremlin narratives to the population of Ukraine and Ukraine’s allied countries…
Since the beginning of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, the World Socialist Web Site “WSWS” has regularly published articles in various languages aimed at discrediting Ukraine and representatives of governments around the world for assisting Ukraine in its fight against the aggressor state.

The ICFI’s opposition to the US-NATO war in Ukraine is an essential element of its political program, deeply rooted in the socialist and internationalist principles of the Trotskyist movement. The attempt of the Ukrainian regime to portray this opposition as an instrument of Putin’s propaganda network is as viciously mendacious as it is politically absurd. The intransigent opposition of the International Committee of the Fourth International to the Putin regime—which emerged as a consequence of the Stalinist bureaucracy’s final betrayal of socialism and the restoration of capitalism in the former USSR—is a fundamental political fact that is substantiated not only in written texts numbering in the hundreds, but also in the exhaustively documented activity of the Trotskyist movement spanning decades.
True to its fascist character, the Ukrainian regime is operating on the basis of the well-known precept of Hitler and his propaganda minister, Joseph Goebbels: “The bigger the lie, the more readily it will be believed.”
In this particular case, the Zelensky regime seems to believe that the scale of the SBU lies are of such a magnitude that they will simply overwhelm the thinking public. It thus expects that public opinion will accept that the Putin regime is directing the work of the WSWS, which the SBU indictment describes as

an online publication of the world Trotskyist movement, the International Committee of the Fourth International and its affiliated sections in the Socialist Equality Parties around the world, which covers the main socio-political problems around the world from the position of revolutionary opposition to the capitalist market system, with the aim of establishing world socialism through socialist revolution.

At no point does the SBU attempt to explain the contradiction that wrecks its case against Bogdan, i.e., that the political principles that he upholds as a socialist and internationalist opponent of wars waged by the capitalist ruling class are irreconcilably hostile to the policies of the Putin regime, including its invasion of Ukraine.
It attempts to evade the contradiction by simply lying. The indictment claims that Bogdan’s activities, “acting on the instructions of a representative of the World Socialist Web Site,” consisted of “supporting and justifying the conduct of the Russian aggressive war on the territory of Ukraine…”
Every word is a lie. The opposition of the ICFI, its affiliated organizations, and the WSWS to the Russian invasion, in line with its hostility to the Putin regime, is a political fact that is documented in hundreds of articles that have been posted since the first day of the invasion.
On February 24, 2022, the day of the Russian invasion, the ICFI posted a statement on the WSWS titled: “Oppose the Putin government’s invasion of Ukraine and US-NATO warmongering! For the unity of Russian and Ukrainian workers!” It began:

The International Committee of the Fourth International and the World Socialist Web Site denounce the Russian military intervention in Ukraine. Despite the provocations and threats by the US and NATO powers, Russia’s invasion of Ukraine must be opposed by socialists and class-conscious workers. The catastrophe that was set in motion by the dissolution of the Soviet Union in 1991 cannot be averted on the basis of Russian nationalism, a thoroughly reactionary ideology that serves the interests of the capitalist ruling class represented by Vladimir Putin.
What is required is not a return to the pre-1917 foreign policy of tsarism, but, rather, a revival, in Russia and throughout the world, of the socialist internationalism that inspired the October Revolution of 1917 and led to the creation of the Soviet Union as a workers state. The invasion of Ukraine, whatever the justifications given by the Putin regime, will serve only to divide the Russian and Ukrainian working class and, moreover, serve the interests of US and European imperialism.
In the two major statements that he has made during the past week, Putin has justified his actions by enumerating the provocations and crimes of the United States. There is, no question, much that is factually true in his denunciation of Washington’s hypocrisy. But the viciously anti-communist and xenophobic ideology that he invokes and the interests that he claims to be defending are thoroughly reactionary and incapable of appealing to the broad mass of the working class in Russia, let alone in Ukraine and throughout the world. A substantial section of the working class in Russia and Ukraine will be repelled by the cynicism of Putin’s glorification of the heroic struggle waged by the Soviet Union against Nazi Germany in World War II while denouncing the October Revolution and the existence of the USSR as a multi-national state.

The ICFI insisted that the socialist opposition to imperialism was incompatible with any form of national chauvinism, and, therefore, rejected all the justifications given by the Putin regime and its apologists for the invasion. Their invocation of “national defense” could not be accepted by socialists. The defeat of imperialism and its overthrow was possible only through the revolutionary struggle of the international working class. The ICFI statement cited the words of Trotsky: “Not to bind itself to the national state in time of war, to follow not the war map but the map of the class struggle, is possible only for that party that has already declared irreconcilable war on the national state in time of peace.”
The ICFI called “for an immediate end to the war,” and explained: “In opposing the invasion of Ukraine, we denounce the policies of US/NATO imperialism, whose claims to be defending democracy and human rights are blood-drenched with hypocrisy.”
This political declaration elaborated the principles and policy that have guided the work of the ICFI and WSWS since the war began.
On February 26, 2022 the International Committee held an international webinar, in which its opposition to the war was emphatically advanced. Among the speakers, in addition to myself, were Nick Beams, a longtime leader of the International Committee’s Australian section, Johannes Stern, a leader of the ICFI in Germany, Thomas Scripps, a leading member of the ICFI’s section in Britain, Joseph Kishore, the national secretary of the Socialist Equality Party in the United States, and Evan Blake, another leading member of the SEP (US).
The ICFI has never wavered from the principled opposition to the policies of NATO and Russia that it advanced in the first days of the war.
The relationship between the ICFI and the comrades of the YGBL coincided almost exactly with the outbreak of the war. They were attracted to the ICFI precisely because of its opposition to both the war and the national chauvinism of the Russian and Ukrainian regimes.
The SBU indictment charges that the World Socialist Web Site assigned to Bogdan “the task of preparing, writing, editing and publishing … both on the WSWS website and other communist-oriented media, articles, publications, comments, etc. aimed at spreading pro-Russian narratives related to the armed aggression of the Russian Federation against Ukraine, which began on February 24, 2022, to which [Bogdan Syrotiuk] gave his voluntary consent.”
In support of this claim, the SBU references a YGBL statement titled, “For the organization of an international movement of workers and young people against war!” It claims that this document, posted on the World Socialist Web Site on October 12, 2022, includes “fragments, statements, sentences and phrases… which contain justification of the armed aggression of the Russian Federation, which began in 2014…”
The actual document clearly exposes this claim to be a lie. There is not a single sentence in the YGBL declaration that indicates support for the invasion of Ukraine. The SBU cites selectively from the document, including passages only from numbered paragraphs 4, 7, 8, 10 and 13. Paragraphs 4 through 8—the SBU interrupts the continuity of the YGBL’s analysis by leaving out paragraphs 5 and 6—provide a concise Marxist explanation of the objective capitalist crisis and political aims that underlay the instigation of the war by the United States and its NATO allies. They state:

1. The new world order that the United States wants to establish looks like this very possible picture: Russia and China are to be subordinated to imperialism and divided, if that is necessary to maintain direct control over their natural, industrial-technological and human resources.
   
2. The European imperialist powers support the United States for their own place in the new redivision of the world. At the same time, European imperialism, while placed on rations by the United States, sees a way out of its economic and geopolitical predicament only in a redivision of the world in which it can regain its former greatness.
   
3. Japan, South Korea and Australia support the US only as much as it suits their interests in the struggle against China in the Pacific region. These countries will support the US as long as it allows them to compete with China. The process of dividing spheres of influence will revive the contradictions between the Pacific capitalist powers, which are as much in limbo as Europe.
   
4. The crisis of 2008 revived class struggles around the world. The Arab Spring of the early 2010s is vivid evidence of this revival. It forced US and European imperialism to take more decisive measures. In 2014, they supported a coup d'état in Ukraine. Through this coup, the US was able to create all the conditions to build a bridgehead in a future war against Russia.
   
5. The Covid-19 pandemic that erupted in 2020 exacerbated the contradictions of capitalism and was the trigger for a more rapid expansion of US imperialism in preparation for war against Russia and China. The US embarked on a more provocative path of abandoning the “one-China” policy, and increasing its support for Ukraine, as expressed in the NATO summit in August 2021, which supported Zelensky’s “Crimean platform.”
   

Significantly, the SBU leaves out paragraph 9 of the YGBL declaration, which presents a scathing indictment of the Putin regime. That paragraph reads:

The reactionary regime of Vladimir Putin emerged from the treacherous dissolution of the Soviet Union by the Stalinist bureaucracy and the restoration of capitalism. The policies of Putin, in the final analysis, are aimed at safeguarding the wealth of the post-Soviet oligarchy against the pressure of Western imperialism from above and, even more critically, against the movement of the Russian working class from below.

The SBU does cite paragraph 10, which continues the critique of the Putin regime, stating:

Within this geopolitical and social context, Putin’s adventurist invasion of Ukraine on February 24 was the Russian oligarchy’s response to NATO’s relentless expansion to the east. The Putin regime’s main objective was to achieve through the pressure of its “Special Operation” a new round of talks with the US-NATO, since the last round ended up crossing “red lines” on the part of the US-NATO, which caused Putin’s invasion [emphasis added].

The characterization of Putin’s invasion as “adventurist” is in no way compatible with what the SBU claims to be a “pro-Russian narrative.” Obviously recognizing the fragility of its attempt to portray the YGBL statement as pro-Putin propaganda, the SBU decided against further citations from the document, leaving out the YGBL’s development of its denunciation of Putin’s policies in paragraphs 11 and 12, which assert:

1. The Russian bourgeoisie’s desire for an “equal partnership” with the West was one of the most utopian delusions. This delusion, historically derived from Stalin’s policy of “Popular Fronts” and then “peaceful coexistence,” developed among the fledgling class of Russian capitalists in the 1990s.
   
2. The Putin regime has not gotten rid of this utopian delusion. Its whole policy has been to maneuver and seek compromise with the West, with whom the Russian oligarchy wanted to be “on equal footing.” Except that Western imperialism, with its conquering ambitions for Russia, did not care about these conciliatory tones of Putin’s regime.
   

The SBU also chose not to cite paragraph 17 of the YGBL statement, which declares:

The course of the war after Putin’s invasion of Ukraine increasingly emphasizes the reactionary nature of this invasion. While claiming to be fighting for the independence of the Russian people from the threat of Western imperialism, Putin is in fact only defending the independence of the Russian oligarchy to exploit the Russian working class and the country’s raw material wealth.

Paragraph 18, which is also left uncited, further demolishes the SBU’s indictment of Bogdan, the YGBL and the WSWS as instruments of Russian propaganda. The paragraph asserts that

the Putin regime has no way out of the current crisis for Russian society. It will not have such a way out in the future. All of the military and political activities of the Putin regime will only contribute to the escalation of Western imperialism and the deterioration of conditions for the Russian, Ukrainian and international working class.

The SBU also failed to cite paragraphs 19 and 20, which presciently warned of the catastrophe to which the war could lead.

1. The prospects for the present war, when thought within the framework of the capitalist system, are very bleak. First, this war will take on a long-term character and will not only be fought between Ukraine and Russia. It is the first step in inflaming the world situation to the point that the threat of a third world war is simply inevitable. All countries of the world will take part in the future war.
   
2. Secondly, the nature of the war will be determined by the policies of the ruling classes, which now stand on a blatantly anti-human position. The ruling classes are recklessly moving toward the use of nuclear weapons in the conflict, thereby creating the real possibility of a nuclear Armageddon. The specter of planetary destruction arises from the insane policies of imperialist and capitalist governments. The recklessness of the ruling capitalist elite compels young people to ask whether they will be allowed any future at all.
   

The SBU specifically cites this document as proof of Bogdan Syrotiuk’s treasonable activity. But the text of this document conclusively refutes the charge that Bogdan and the YGBL are advancing a pro-Putin narrative.
Moreover, and most decisive, the Ukrainian regime does not present a scintilla of evidence to substantiate its absurd and lying claim that the World Socialist Web Site is a “Russian propaganda and information agency.” With this filthy slander, the Zelensky regime betrays—notwithstanding the ongoing war with Russia—the lingering influence of Stalinism’s rabid hatred of Trotskyism. As in Russia, the transfer of power in Ukraine from Stalinist bureaucrats to capitalist oligarchs has not required any change in the methodology of the political police. The same techniques of fabrication and slander, utilized by the Stalinist regime against Trotskyists in the era of the Moscow Trials and the terror of 1936-39, remain operative in Kiev.
Bogdan Syrotiuk stands accused of treason and faces the threat of a life-long prison term that is the equivalent of a death sentence. But the allegations against Bogdan are based entirely on articles and speeches he has posted on the World Socialist Web Site, in which he has declared his opposition, as a socialist internationalist, to the capitalist regimes of Zelensky and Putin and the ongoing war that has cost hundreds of thousands of Ukrainian and Russian lives.
The SBU indicts Bogdan for advancing in his speeches and writings posted on the World Socialist Web Site “which are accessible to everyone in the world, including citizens of Ukraine” information that exposes the reactionary character of the Ukrainian regime and the war.
The SBU declares that Bogdan’s “criminal actions were stopped only with the intervention of a law enforcement agency.” What a devastating self-exposure of the claims that the US-NATO proxy war is being waged to defend democracy in Ukraine.
The reality is that Ukraine is a fascistic dictatorship, which applies police methods to stop the expression of popular opposition to the policies that have brought untold suffering and death to the people.
The arrest of Bogdan Syrotiuk comes precisely at a point of mounting popular opposition to the Zelensky regime. On May 18, a new and vastly unpopular mobilization law that will vastly expand the recruitment dragnet of Ukrainian military goes into effect. Even the New York Times has expressed doubts about Zelensky’s ability “to find new troops to relieve a weary, often demoralized force.”
In an article posted on the World Socialist Web Site on April 30, Maxim Goldarb, a Ukrainian socialist who has been persecuted by the Zelensky regime, reported: “More and more Ukrainian men are desperately trying to flee the country, unwilling to die for someone else’s selfish purposes.”
He added:

It is not the rich minority, but the poor majority—the unemployed, workers, peasants, teachers, doctors, office workers—that will be sent into the bloody meat grinder. Now, with the adoption of the new law, the number of men deprived of basic human rights, who will be captured and hunted down like animals and sent to the front, will increase many times over.
The profits of those who benefit from this war will also increase many times over … These huge profits will be divided up between the military-industrial complex, its lobbyists in the American and European establishment, and the Ukrainian oligarchic top brass.

Bogdan Syrotiuk’s life is in danger. In the environment of terror that exists within Ukraine, he is deprived of all means to defend himself. Efforts to obtain competent legal representation have been undermined by government threats against defense lawyers. No less than five attorneys have declined to represent Bogdan because to do so would expose them to significant physical danger.
The significance of the fight to defend Bogdan and secure his freedom extends beyond Ukraine. His incarceration is yet another example of the growing international assault on democratic rights as imperialism escalates its military operations throughout the world. The political conspiracy to destroy Julian Assange set into motion a process that is replicated throughout the world.
Those who oppose and expose the crimes of the imperialist regimes are targeted for persecution by the state. The assault on basic democratic rights—first and foremost, freedom of thought and speech—is always justified on the basis of lies.
The opponents of Israel’s genocidal war against Gazans are denounced as anti-Semites, even when the protesters are Jewish. In the denunciation of Bogdan Syrotiuk as an agent of Russia for opposing the proxy war in Ukraine, the same lying method is at work.
The real reason for the arrest and persecution of Bogdan Syrotiuk is that he is fighting for the unity of the Ukrainian, Russian and international working class against the ruling capitalist elites of all countries. As Comrade Andrei Ritsky of the Russian branch of the Young Guard of Bolshevik Leninists explained so eloquently in a speech delivered at the May Day 2024 celebration held by the International Committee:

The only “crime” that Bogdan committed was his conviction that Ukraine can become truly free only through the independent struggle of the Ukrainian working class, acting together with the international working class against imperialism and war. He advanced a principled political position based on a Marxist understanding of the war, opposed to the fanatical worship of Ukrainian nationalism as well as the reactionary Russian nationalism of the Putin regime. Like our entire movement, he has fought for the unification of workers in Russia and Ukraine with the workers in the imperialist countries, to put an end to a fratricidal war that has claimed the lives of at least half a million Ukrainians and tens of thousands of Russians.

He concluded his remarks with a declaration of the fundamental perspective that underlies the work of the Fourth International:

No bourgeois regime is capable of resolving the crisis other than through war and destruction, because any other way would be contrary to its fundamental capitalist interests. The contradictions of capitalism cannot be resolved within national borders and on the basis of a defense of private property. Only the international working class armed with the program of world socialist revolution will be able to put an end to the wars and resolve the fundamental crisis. To do so, however, it must fight for its unity with its brothers and sisters around the world.

The International Committee of the Fourth International calls for a global campaign to demand the immediate release of Bogdan Syrotiuk from prison. The fight for Bogdan’s freedom must be taken up by workers, students and all those who are committed to the defense of democratic rights and opposed to the escalation of imperialist wars that, unless stopped, threaten humanity with a nuclear catastrophe.
Join the fight to Free Bogdan. Circulate this statement as widely as possible on social media. Bring this case to the attention of co-workers, fellow students, and friends. To sign a petition demanding Bogdan’s release, contribute funds toward the defense campaign, and become personally active in the fight for his freedom, go to wsws.org/freebogdan.

You guys know what an alpine coaster is? They are like a small roller coaster you find in the mountains. They are also called summer toboggans or mountain coasters and I think there’s some long German compound word they are called in parts of Europe. They are like a roller coaster, but with much smaller one or two person sleds you just sit on instead of multi-person cars you ride in, and instead of being built with like a scaffolding or a framework the tracks are just on the ground, using the elevation of the mountain. Basically it’s a coaster track on the side of a mountain where you ride a sled down.
They are pretty fun. Or at least I used to think so. They are more “personal” than roller coasters and although you get nowhere near the speed on them that you do on a good traditional roller coaster and they can’t do corkscrews or loops or anything like that the openness and simplicity of the ride gives an impression of a much greater speed. You’re just sitting there with nothing but a little plastic sled and the track between you and the ground as it goes zooming by. It’s like the difference between how fast a go-cart feels compared to how fast a sports car feels. You know the sports car goes faster but the open, simpleness of a go-cart feels a different kind of fast. There’s plenty of POV Youtube videos if you want to get the basic idea of what they are.
I used to love alpine coasters. Used to.
My family used to go to Gatlinburg and Pigeon Forge and up and down the Smokey Mountains for vacations when I was a kid and they are common in that area and I’d always rode them every chance I got.
But as with so many things after I grew up and went to college they just became part of my childhood that slipped away. They aren’t exactly common once you get away from the mountains.
Until one cool spring afternoon in 2004. I was in my final year at college and I was driving back to campus in Tennessee after a short visit to my folks in North Carolina. It was only like a 4 or 5 hour drive via the most efficient route and I had no need to be back at campus early so instead of taking the freeway all the way I got off and took part of my trip through the mountains. The scenery was nicer and I admit I liked pushing my Camaro just a little faster than I should through the twisty mountain roads.
Just after lunchtime happened upon one of those little by-the-highway tourist towns deep somewhere in the Smoky Mountains near the Carolina/Tennessee border. Nothing fancy, a gas station/truck stop, a diner, a couple of places selling tourist merch nestled deep in the mountains. I pulled into the gas station. My tank was getting low and I needed to stretch my legs, maybe grab something to eat. It was still early and I only had another couple of hours. I could kill an hour or so and still make it back to campus at a decent hour.
I pulled into the gas station and was filling my tank when I happened to glance across the road and… well I’ll be damned. There it was. “The Blue Ridge Alpine Coaster.” Nestled on the side of the mountain was a building, a mockup of a red barn, where a single railed track that led up into the mountains, where it soon got lost in the greenery. Wooden hand painted standees of cartoon character bears dressed in stereotypical “Hillbilly” getup stood around, some of them holding signs showing the ride hours and ticket costs and other info. I had to admit, as silly as it was, it made me smile.I finished pumping my gas and, well, nostalgia is a helluva thing. I decided then and there I could waste a little time riding an Alpine Coaster again after all these years before getting back on the road.
I parked my car in a corner of the truck stop's parking lot, put my phone in the center console, this being the days before smart phones when people didn’t keep their phones with them 24/7 and I didn’t want my old Nokia brick phone to fall out during the ride, locked my car and walked across the mountain highway to the Alpine Coaster building.
Getting closer, the place was less inviting. The half hearted attempt at a whimsical faux-Americana kitsch was far less effective when it brushed up against the actual decaying, run down wooden building. Hell calling it a building was generous. It was a wood frame holding up a long roof that covered the area where you got on the sleds. The wood boards creaked under my footsteps.
The only real enclosed structure was a shack that held, what I assumed, was a ticket booth. A door on the side had both a single occupancy bathroom with an out of order sign on it. An old Pepsi machine buzzed and glowed next to it.
Still the place looked alive. Ahead of me a bored looking attendant was helping a mother and her young son into one of the sleds while in a bored monotone repeating the safety brief. A few people were waiting in line at the ticket booth. Up in the mountains the playful shouts of people on the ride echoed down. Fond memories of my own childhood rides flooded my mind.10 minutes and 15 dollars later I was settling into the hard plastic seat of a bright red sled sat atop a simple aluminum rail.
I couldn’t help but grin as the sled slowly climbed the track up the mountains, making click-clack ratcheting sounds that hit my nostalgia centers hard. I felt good. The air was cool and crisp and smelled of pine.Higher and higher in the mountains we went. I don’t know if this is my mind trying to make sense of it after the fact but when I remember these moments, the last good moments, I sometimes think I remember a very slight, very subtle pit of fear in my stomach. I honestly don’t know if I felt it at the time or not or it’s just how my mind tries to make sense of it looking back at.
But either way mostly I was enjoying myself. I smiled. I was a kid again. I could hear riders in front of me let out that initial yell of terrified glee you get at the first drop of any good ride.
It peaked. I glanced around. I could see for miles, rolling hills and mountains. I the sled tipped over and zoomed down the mountain and I let out the same happy yell I heard from the other passengers.The ride zoomed down the mountain, catching speed. The mountain forest floor zoomed past, only a few feet under me. Trees zoomed past. I gave out a happy whoop as the ride banked hard around a curve and then looped back under itself.Another dip, another curve. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of the G-forces pulling me every which way.
There was no one exact single moment where things started to go “wrong.” The ride kept going. And going. At this point the first creeping thought entered my head.
The ride… was still going.
It just started to hit me… this ride was going on for a really long time. I had taken a dozen rides on various coasters of this type before that day and they topped out at about 5 minutes or so, and that was the long ones. Longer than a traditional roller coaster but not that long. This one had been going on for what felt like 10, maybe even 15 minutes.
I looked back over my shoulder and could only see trees, moving too fast to really get a bearing on where I was at in relation to anything.
I wasn't exactly really worried yet. Okay so I had found a particularly long alpine coaster. At the time I wasn’t 100% wasn't sure they didn’t exist or anything like that. I was a little… unnerved but nothing was happening that was impossible. Yet.
I was trying to talk myself back into just enjoying the ride and stop overthinking it, and halfway succeeded, when out of nowhere I suddenly banked hard, the track jutting out almost over a sheer cliffside. I gripped the sled more tightly as I was whipped around. The ride then dipped hard and picked up speed, barreling down the side of the mountain.
I was pushed back against the seat by the force of the drop. Jesus I didn’t remember them being this rough. I was feeling slightly nauseous. And where had this elevation drop come from I wondered? I was still in the foothills and I didn’t remember seeing anything but gentle rolling hills and light drops from looking at the ride’s route earlier. How the ride had managed such a long, steep drop in this area I didn’t know. . For the first time I hoped that the ride would be over soon. I had no idea then how much I would want that same hope to be true so much more as time went on.
With a whiplash motion I was whipped forward and then back as the ride leveled out on flat ground again, but by this point I was going fast, too fast. My neck hurt from the mild whiplash and I felt sour in my throat and for a moment the contents of my stomach threatened to come back up. For the first, but hardly the last time the ride felt unsafe. Alpine Coasters are tame affairs, much slower and gentler than full on roller coasters but this thing was throwing me around like no thrill ride I had ever been on.
I looked around. I mean I wasn’t that deep into the woods. I should have been able to see a glimpse of something; the highway, the gas station, the tourist shops, the Alpine Coaster office, something, anything. But nothing. Just trees.
I forced back some panic for the first time. I closed my eyes and counted to ten. The ride zoomed along. I counted to 60. I counted to 60 again. And again. Okay this was getting uncomfortably harder and harder to explain.
Suddenly I noticed that up ahead the track seemed to just end, for one brief, terrible moment I thought the track just ended but I was wrong. Almost without warning the track dipped in an almost vertical drop. I almost screamed as I plummeted for 20, maybe 30 seconds before flattening out again.
By this point the voice in my head that was telling me something was wrong was louder and I could no longer tell myself it was wrong. This ride could not have been this long. I tried to make sense of it, wondering if somehow I had gotten diverted onto some kind of maintenance track or, hell for one brief irrational moment even entertaining the idea that I had wound up on an actual train track somehow. But that was absurd. The rail below me was not a train track, it was still just the simple, aluminum rail of an alpine coaster and there had been no diversions or junctions in the track. I was still on the ride, as insane as that was starting to feel. Had the ride somehow looped? Again after having the thought I immediately dismissed it as crazy. There’s no way I could have missed the ride building where I got on. And what kind of ride loops over and over?
The sled zoomed through the forest, oddly never seeming to lose speed despite the relatively flat grade of the track. I cursed myself for leaving my phone in the car and not wearing a watch. I don’t know exactly how long I had been on the ride at that point but it felt like I had been on the ride for a half hour, maybe more. But time is a funny thing when you’re in a situation you’ve never been in. Could have been more, could have been less, at that point.
My pride finally failed me. I started to scream for help. I screamed out that the ride was broken, to stop it, that I needed help. I did that for about ten minutes or so I think. The ride kept going. Mostly flat, level track with occasional mild dips and turns. But the simple length of the ride grew more and more unnerving and unexplainable.
I thought about just bailing out. But the ride, impossibly, was still not slowing down and chunks of mountain rock and thick tree trunks were all around me. Bailing out without risking smashing into a rock or a tree seemed impossible.
The ride kept going.
Up ahead the forest was clearing out some, I could see the forest brightening, more sunlight making it through the canopy.
I wasn’t prepared for what I saw.
The trees stopped and I had just enough time to take in a flat, open area of rock maybe 40, 50 yards at most before another sheer cliff. The tracks twisted and turned and then shot straight down. But that wasn’t the worst of it. For a moment, a very short moment, I had a clear view for miles and the landscape was, to be blunt, totally impossible. Any possibility that I had just stumbled on some incredibly long ride was blasted out of my head. Barren, volcanic looking rock stretched for miles. Jagged, black rocky outcroppings as far as the eye could see. I was in the goddamn Smoky Mountains. They don’t look like that.
I had a few moments for the terror of that view to settle in before the cart plunged into another horrifying drop. I gripped the handles of the cheap plastic sled until my knuckles turned white. The drop felt completely vertical, like I was falling at terminal velocity. I screamed. My stomach dropped and turned. I imagined the sled coming away from the track and me just plummeting screaming to my death on the rocks below. But somehow the ride still functioned. I closed my eyes tightly and just waited for whatever was going to happen. Eventually after several what felt like a full minute of steep plunging the track again leveled out, and I opened my eyes to see myself moving at breakneck speed over that black, rocky landscape.
Now that I was moving on a more or less flat horizontal track again I took a few deep breaths. I looked over the edge of the track. Nothing but that black, jagged rock, almost looking like obsidian, zooming past. I had no idea how fast the sled was moving now. Fast. Faster than a gravity powered sled should be moving. And the track was higher off the ground now. Alpine slides usually stick pretty close to the ground, but I was 20 feet or so in the air, the track suspended in the air, a simple metal tube tower like a power pylon every few yards.
Without any immediate threat and the sled moving fast but steadily and level I was able to think about my situation again, for all the good that did me. Ahead of me the track just continued to the horizon, nothing but the same rocky landscape as far as I could see. I craned my neck to look back over my shoulder and looked back behind me and it looked the same. Even the mountains were but distant specs on the horizon behind me.
This was insane. There’s not a giant seemingly endless field of black jagged rock in the goddamn Smoky Mountains. There’s no cliff faces tall and steep enough for a multi-minute vertical drop. And alpine coasters were small affairs, not major engineering projects that span miles with pylons and vertical tracks. It made no sense.
Sadly it wasn’t going to start making any more sense anytime soon.
The ride kept going.
I was on this rocky landscape for several hours. I feel comfortable saying this because I could actually notice the sun getting lower in the sky. And the sled wasn’t slowing down despite the grade of the track being flat. I was getting cramped from sitting and stretched my legs and twisted my back as best I could. Didn’t do much help. My eyes were starting to get irritated from the constant wind in them. Worst of all it was starting to get chilly. I only had on a light jacket, a windbreaker, just something to keep the breeze off me, no real insulation. I was cold, my joints were stiff, I was hungry and thirsty. My eyes watered and my throat was so dry it was sore.
But none of that was as bad as just how little sense this all made. There’s nothing like this place anywhere near the Smoky Mountains. This was like some volcanic rock landscape. The more I thought about it the less sense it made.
The ride kept going.
My mind didn’t even try to process this. Whatever I was experiencing simply couldn’t be possible. I was crazy. I was dreaming. The CIA had kidnapped me and dosed me with some new version of LSD and I was in a straightjacket in a padded room at Area 51.
The sled kept zooming along as the sky turned to dusk. Soon the bridge disappeared from my view and I continued on along the endless, rocky, featureless landscape.
I sat back against the sled, mentally and physically numb. I was exhausted. I was thirsty. I was cramping up. I was hungry. I had to pee. I held it for as long as I could, then had no choice but just wet myself. I cried until I had no more tears left. Then I just sat there.
The ride kept going.
By the time the sun dipped below the horizon my throat felt like sandpaper. I dug around in my jacket pockets hoping to find a stick of gum or piece of candy. Nothing. I checked again, having nothing else to do. Under a crumpled store receipt in the inner pocket of my jacket was a single old, forgotten cough drop. I unwrapped it from the paper and popped it in my mouth. Saliva flooded back into my mouth and I was overwhelmed by the methanol and medicine taste. It was something at least, although I knew it would be a brief and temporary fix at best.
I felt my eyes get heavy. It was getting colder. That mountain cold. That deep cold the mountains have even into the early spring when the sun goes down. That kind that just pulls the heat right out of you. I shivered. A terrible, horrible certainty came to me. I would ride until I passed out from exhaustion or the hypothermia set in. My body would tumble off the sled to fall and skip across the rocky ground like a stone skipping across a lake, my bones breaking as I tumbled until my body finally came to a stop. If I was lucky I would be killed and not have to lie for days, broken and bruised, on the ground until death took me.
The ride kept going. The ride kept going. The fucking ride kept going.
“Fuck you” I said to the ride, my voice a horse whisper. I pulled my jacket closer around me, for all the good it did. The cold wind was slowly but surely pulling my body heat away. My shivering got worse, crossing the line from a simple normal shiver into those deep, almost violent full body ones.. I wasn’t anything you could call an experienced outdoorsman, but I knew enough to know that wasn’t a good sign.
It was getting dark. There was a full moon at least so I wasn’t totally in the dark.
About then I noticed something. The landscape, what little I could see in the fading light, was changing. It was smoothing out, becoming less rocky and craggy. Up ahead an odd, shimmering light was starting to appear on the ground.
I was over it before I even realized what it was. The tracks were going over a smooth surface.
Water. It was a lake. The odd lights I had seen were the moon, reflected in ripples on the lake.
Within minutes I was out of the view of the land. After the nearly endless rocky landscape and everything else I had seen, it scared me how little I was shocked. I didn’t like how mentally numb I was getting. I leaned over. There was enough moonlight to see the water, 15 or 20 feet below the track. The pylons holding up the track went into the water, the light wasn’t good enough to even make a guess at how far they went down or how deep the water was.I leaned back in the sled. My eyes were red and bloodshot from the constant wind. I closed them. This was a mistake.I jerked awake. I don’t know if I dozed off for a split second or an hour. My weight had shifted and I caught myself as my center of gravity was in danger of sending me off the sled and into the water.
I screamed in anger. A deep primal scream. I hurt so bad. My joints felt like they were full of glass. My limbs were full of pins and needles. I glanced over at the water. For the first time on the very edges of my brain a tiny voice started to speak up, telling me that I could be all over if I just jumped. I shut the voice up, but it scared me still.
I sat there as the ride went on. It felt like hours. Eventually the lake ended in a rocky shore line. The damned ride. There was no safe place to bail out. If the ride slowed down, it was high in the air, if it moved toward the ground it sped up. Sharp rocks, big trees, nothing you could safely bail out into.
I kept having to force myself awake. I kept dozing off. Once I felt myself falling asleep and drove a vicious uppercut into my own nose to stave it off.
I seriously started to think about how much longer I could hang on. The voice came back again. This time I didn’t shut it up. I wasn’t admitting it to myself yet, but I was starting to think about the best way to land that would end it quickly if I needed to.
Something was ahead. The track seemed to dip into the ground. I was too tired, too beaten to even get scared. I was just resigned to whatever happened at this point.
With little warning the track took my sled into a tunnel in the ground. Everything went completely pitch black. After several moments even the dim moonlight was gone.
This was the worst part. The creepy forest, the immense rocky landscape, the eerie lake… those were bad. But this was just nothing. Nothing to look at, nothing to hear, nothing for reference or sense of where I was going. The walls of the tunnel felt like they were inches from me in every direction. The air felt thick, like there wasn’t enough oxygen.
With every moment I was in that tunnel I lost a little more hope. After a long, long time I made a decision. When I got out of this tunnel, I would jump. I didn’t care anymore. Hopefully there would be a spot where I could be certain the fall would instantly kill me. I was done. The ride had beaten me. I sat there, waiting for a chance to end this on my terms. That was all I had left.
Eventually up ahead, a tiny speck of light appeared. I gathered my strength, ready to end it. I sat up, getting my legs under me so I could jump as soon as we were clear. The sled burst out of the tunnel. The dim light of the full moon was enough to be momentarily blinding after the pitch black of the tunnel.. I gave my eyes a moment to adjust.
I was back in a normal looking Appalachian forest. Rolling hills, green trees. The air smelled of pine again. I heard an owl hoot off somewhere.
Slowly I lowered myself back into a setting position, in shock. At first I refused to believe it but the ride was slowing down. I held still, making sure my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me, but no, the cheap plastic sled that had been my world for what felt like an eternity was slowing down.
Up ahead, a structure was visible, peeking out from among the trees in the dim lighting as the sled moved down the track.
It was the Alpine Slide building. The crappy fake red barn where I had boarded this cursed ride so long ago. I blinked and rubbed my eyes, sure it was either my mind or the cursed ride playing tricks with me. But the building stayed there.
It grew closer and closer. The track leveled completely out. The sled slowed down more. Before I had the time to really come to terms with it I arrived back at the building.
The sled slowed to a stop, gently pumping against another sled parked on the track. I sat there for a few moments, gasping in great big gulping fear breaths, trying to assure myself the ride didn’t have one last trick of its sleeve.
I looked around. The place was empty, deserted. The overhead lights were still on and the old Pepsi machine still glowed and buzzed, but the ticket booth was dark and empty, a metal gate pulled down over the ticket window.
Suddenly it hit me that I was free and I practically leapt out of the sled and onto the platform. I immediately collapsed. My legs were jelly and my head was spinning. I tried to stand up again and doubled over, dry heaving. Have you ever been out on a boat for a day and have that weird reverse motion sickness when you’re back on solid land? It was like that times a hundred. My inner ear was literally pounding, all the motion had really done a number on it.
I laid there for a few moments and eventually forced myself to stand up on my two wobbling legs. I looked around, a horrible certainty creeping into my mind that there would be no exit, no way off the platform but to my relief an exit turnstyle, one of those full height ones, was set into the fence that surrounded the ride property.
I went through it and found myself back on the main road. The truckstop was still there, still open but far less busy. My car sat in the same corner of the parking lot I had left it.
I allowed myself one look back, just one quick one. The metal skeleton of the Alpine Slide track sat there, dark and quiet but otherwise normal.
I stumbled-ran back to my car, dug the keys out of my pocket, and collapsed inside. When the door shut I let out a primal scream, the tons of fear and confusion and anger all fusing into a single, raw emotion. I screamed again and again.
After a few moments I felt like I was emotionally at least back to a place where I could act, although I wasn’t sure yet what to do next. Not really knowing what to do I cranked the car. The A/C had been on low when I shut off the car and it came roaring back to life and cold air blowing on me almost sent me back into a full on panic attack. I fumbled with the climate controls until the air stopped blowing directly on me, then calmed down enough to turn the heat on, helping to get the chill out of my bones. There was a half full bottle of water in the center console cup holder and I grabbed it and chugged it. Nothing ever tasted as good before or sense as that few ounces of water.
That was when I noticed the clock on the radio head unit. It was 4:17 in the morning. It had been about one, one thirty or so in the afternoon when I got on the accursed ride.
Over 15 hours. I had been on the goddamn ride for over 15 hours. Over half a day.
I just sat there. Warming up. Calming down. I was exhausted. I was dehydrated. I can’t even describe how my head felt. I probably had at least a minor case of hypothermia. I thought about going into the gas station and asking for help but what would I even say, and more than anything I just wanted to get away from this place. And I just wanted to get away. I wanted to be nowhere near that damn ride.
I put the Camaro in gear and pulled into the street and in panic I immediately slammed on the brakes. I was lucky there was no traffic on the road at that moment. The feeling of accelerating to just normal surface street speeds made me sick to my stomach. I gathered myself and very slowly accelerated the car I usually treated with a very heavy foot up to 30 miles an hour. Every time I tried to accelerate at a pace faster than “Old Lady Going to Church, Uphill” I would have a panic attack. I was okay once I was up to speed, but accelerating freaked me out after being on that ride.
I drove about 30 minutes, putting some arbitrary amount of distance between myself and the coaster. Eventually I made it back to where the twisty mountain road met back up with a major road that would eventually meet back up with the highway. After a few more minutes of driving I saw the onramp for the highway. There was one of those big truckstop travel plazas and pulled in, parking right up at the door. I smelled like pee and I can only imagine how I looked, but I didn’t care.
I kept a couple of emergency 20s in the back of my wallet and spent it on the biggest bottle of water the store had, an overpriced bottle of eye drops, and a huge travel mug of coffee. The clerk looked at me as if he was expecting me to either drop dead or rob him the entire time.
Back in my car I downed the coffee. I put a few eye drops in each of my eyes and sat there as the caffeine took effect until I felt like I could make it back to my apartment. The sun was just coming up when I finally pulled out of the truck stop and got on the freeway. I slowly, very slowly, accelerated up to highway speed, put the Camaro in cruise control, and let the miles start to drift away. I turned on the radio, I needed to hear human voices. Every time my mind went back to what had just happened I turned the radio up louder, eventually drowning it out with painful levels of rock music. I wasn’t ready to think about it yet. Yes looking back I know I was just in denial. I finally made it back to the crappy little apartment I had off campus, a little two story walk up studio. I let myself in and collapsed on the cheap couch. I was asleep before I even had the time to decide whether or not to do anything else. I woke up later that afternoon. I took a shower and ate a meal and didn’t think about the ride. I washed the pee stained filthy clothes I had been wearing and didn’t think about the ride. I went back to class and didn’t think about the ride. Every time I thought about the ride I forced it out of my head. I’m sure this wasn’t the most mentally healthy thing to do but what can you say?
I didn’t forget about it, don’t be silly. This isn’t the kind of thing you forget. One day while looking up something else in the university’s library my curiosity got the better of me and I looked up the Alpine Slide. No website but a few Google Map and Yelp mentions. None of them mentioned anything weird, certainly nothing even remotely like what I experienced. Near as I can tell it closed sometimes in the winter of 2012.
Life went on. I mean, that’s what it does. The next day was a little better. And the day after that a little better. And the day after that a little better still. I met a nice girl. Graduated. Got married. Got a nice house in the suburbs. Got a dog. Had a daughter. Spent a lot of time happy and not thinking about being trapped on an endless alpine coaster.And that was my life for many, many years after that.
Until a few weeks back when as a very different person I found myself driving a boring and safe mid sized family SUV through those same mountains. My wife Carol, 5 months pregnant, sat in the passenger seat, our 6 year old daughter Emily in a booster seat in the back, and Max our mixed breed mutt next to her. It had been a nice pleasant trip, driving back from visiting her folks.
I hadn’t thought about that fucking ride in so long I barely registered that I was in the same general area until it was too late. Suddenly I realized that little mountain tourist trap town was only a few minutes down the road. I swallowed hard and gripped the steering wheel hard. Carol was looking out the window at the scenery and Emily was deep into some kid’s Youtube video on an iPad. I forced myself to keep my breath steady as we rounded the corner.The town was still there, sorta. Time had not been kind to it. The gas station was still there, at some point it had been bought out by Shell. The tourist trap shops were still there. One of them was now a vape shop. The diner was closed, the building looking like it sat unused for a long time.
But of course that’s not what I cared about. A looked over at the site where the Alpine Coaster once stood. It was gone. The kitschy fake barn was gone. The site was just a bare concrete slab with a chainlink fence around it. Faded “no trespassing” and “for sale” signs hung off the fence. A pile of old, decaying lumber that might have once long ago been part of the structure covered part of the old lot. No sign of the track remained outside of some old concrete support posts dotting the side of the mountain.
I exhaled out a breath I hadn’t even realized I had been holding in. Soon the little town disappeared in my rear view mirror.
About a half hour later we stopped for gas. I pulled up to a gas pump across from a massive motorhome. Max stuck his head out the window and started barking at a little white dog, a toy breed of some kind, in the window of the motorhome. Carol and Emily immediately headed into the store to restock on snacks while I fueled up.
I stood there, a half smile on my lips as Max barked and wagged his tail in an attempt to attract the attention of the other dog while I filled up the tank, said dog doing an admirable job of ignoring him.
Right about the time I finished fueling up and cleaning the bugs off the windshield Carol returned from inside the store, Emily in tow, arms filled with two full sized bags of Salt and Vinegar Potato Chips and what looked to be a half dozen individually wrapped pickles.
I raised an eyebrow at the collection of food but knew better than to question a pregnant woman's snack choices.
“Should we take Max for a quick walk?” Carol asked. The travel plaza had a nice little gated dog walking area off to the side.
“Yeah probably not a bad idea, he’s been cooped up in the car for a few hours.” I said. Max, upon hearing his name and the word “walk” , forgot about the other dog and upgraded from wagging his tail to wagging his entire body while making whining sounds and staring right at me.
About this time I became half aware that the big motor home next to us was pulling away. I didn’t think much of it, outside of doing a quick automatic mental check to make sure Emily was well clear of the moving vehicle, but she was safely between me and our SUV, well out of the way.
But that was when Emily looked behind me and cheerfully yelled “Daddy look a roller coaster! Can I ride the coaster?”
It’s cliche as fuck I know but my blood went cold.
I turned around slowly, certain in my knowledge that terrible old decrepit Alpine Coaster would be there, having just popped into existence to trap me again.
That.. is not what I saw. Sure enough there was a coaster there, one I hadn’t noticed earlier because it had mostly been blocked by the motor home, but there it was. It was even an Alpine Coaster.
But it was not the same coaster I had encountered those years ago. That was immediately obvious. It was a small but modern and newish looking setup with neon lights and a bunch of people. There was an actual building where you bought tickets and a little snack stand.
“Daddy! Can we go on the coaster!” Emily asked again.
My mouth made motions but no words came out. I glanced over at Carol, hoping she’d say we didn’t have time but to my horror she smiled and said “You know what? That does sound like fun. Daddy will take you while I take Max for a walk.”
My mind raced, trying to think of a way to get out of it. But Emily was already dragging me across the parking lot to the entrance.
I patted my pocket, making sure my phone was in it. Every fiber of my being was screaming to run away. I slept walked through the line and the ticket booth while Emily bounced happily.
We got into a two seat plastic sled. This one was actually a lot nicer than the one my mind wouldn’t stop thinking about. It had two nice cushioned seats, big grab handles, even a nice rollbar.
The sled started up the track. I fought back the panic. I swerved my head around, keeping the building in my view. I was terrified of losing sight of it. We made it to the top and Emily did a happy squeal as we started down the side of the mountain.
My heart raced. Any second, any second my mind told me we’d lose sight of the building and then the ride would never end. The ride sped down the mountain. My mind tortured me with thoughts of not only going through it again, but seeing Emily go through it. The ride went around a big, banking turn. Emily kept shouting happily. How long before Carol reported us missing I wondered? Could I keep Emily calm? What if it lasted even longer this time? What if this time it never ended?
And then we were back at the start of the ride. The same attendant who had helped us into the sled was helping Emily out. I stepped out. The attendant gave me a brief look but said nothing. I guess I looked a little wild eyed.
I was fine. Emily was fine. It had been a perfectly normal, fun ride.
“That was fun Daddy! Thank you!” Emily said. I forced a smile back. “It was fun.” I responded, hoping like I sounded like I meant it.
I took Emily’s hand and we walked back to the car. Max saw us coming and barked happily. Carol looked up from the pint of Ben and Jerry’s she had somehow acquired and added to her snack collection while we were gone and smiled at us.
“Did you have fun?” she asked.
“It was so fun Mommy!” Emily said.
Carol smiled down at her, but then looked at me and frowned. “Are you okay?” Carol could read my face a lot better than the attendant could. “You’re pale.”
I smiled and this time the smile felt real. “Ya know what. Yeah, I think I am okay.”
Carol looked a little puzzled, but didn’t press it. We loaded Emily back in her booster seat, stopped Max from trying desperately to eat half a discarded gas station hot dog off the ground and got him back in the car. Carol and her small collection of snack food took her place in the passenger seat and I got in the driver's seat.I smiled. I cranked the car. I put it in gear. I pulled out of the gas station and back on the road, this time accelerating just a little faster than I had in years.

I turned the AC on a few days ago for the first time after winter to test it. It was working well, fan running and blowing cool air. I ran it for about 5 mins and then turned it off.
Today, about a week later, the fan wont spin. I tried the following:

1. Changed the air filter
2. Turned the switch off and on at the circuit breaker
3. Pulled out the power near the outdoor unit and put it back on.
4. Unplugged the capacitor and plugged it back on (I have no tools to test the capacitor, but it probably is not the capacitor because when I manually turn the fan with ac running, nothing happens)

Anything else I should do before calling an HVAC guy? Photo of the capacitor for reference.

I have sleep paralysis somewhat regularly, it comes and goes. I have noticed I tend to get it more often when I don’t have a lot of sleep for a couple days. I have seen different sleep paralysis “demons” how ever the hat man experience I had was probably the worst sleep paralysis I have ever had. Here is the story
At the time I was living by myself in somewhat rural Alaska in a small duplex. My place was sorta small it was about 1000 sq ft with 2 bed 1 bath. When you open the front door the living room opens up to your right, the kitchen then bathroom are to your left and the 2 rooms are straight back with the doors being on the back side of the living room. Both rooms were pretty small, one I used for storage and the other my bedroom. Since the room was small my queen sized bed only fit comfortably in one orientation with the front door to the home being in direct line of sight from my bed and vice versa. Normally I sleep with my door closed but this particular night I slept with it open because I was so tired and accidentally fell asleep when I got home from a long day of work. I remember waking up to a noise and immediately noticed I couldn’t move. Since I get sleep paralysis often I have gotten better about not freaking out and normally if I close my eyes and focus on quickly rolling my body or moving my arm or leg I can move myself out of it. So almost routine at this point I quickly get myself out of it and sit up and look out into my living room to see what the noise was. Right next to my front door is a big window, I leave the blinds closed but light goes through them fairly easily. On this night the moon was probably full and the moonlight was coming through the window pretty bright and I could see my living room and kitchen fairly good. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary and I figured the sound came from sleep paralysis because not only do I sometimes see things but I also sometimes hear things. I went back to sleep. I again awoke in sleep paralysis but this time my chest was a bit heavier and my heart was pounding. The anxiety was a little more frightening and I didn’t immediately do my routine to get out of the sleep paralysis and mistakenly started looking around. That’s when I saw the hat man. My front door was wide open and white moon light shining in. At the door way the completely black figure with the distinct hat stood staring at me. I was in a state of panic and shock, I couldn’t tell if it was real or not because normally the environment doesn’t change and this time my front door was clearly open. I have a pistol I keep for self defense and it was on my nightstand. I did my routine, rolled my body and quickly grabbed my pistol. I sat up and pointed my pistol at my front door but it was closed and everything was normal. At this point my anxiety was high and I was nervous to fall back asleep because I haven’t had such bad sleep paralysis in a while but I laid back down, went on my phone for a bit and decided to go back to sleep. The way my duplex is set up my neighbor is on the bottom unit and I’m on the top so you have to go up some stairs to get to my front door. There is a small one car garage but it belongs to my downstairs neighbor and was used for storage so I parked my truck in front of it and the stairs to my front door was to the right of the garage and my truck. Now the dream is foggy but for some reason I dreamed that I woke up again, gotten scared and went outside to get in my truck and fell back asleep. I woke up again in sleep paralysis but this time I was in the passenger seat of my truck. Again I didn’t follow my routine, my head was foggy, confused, and nervous. I started looking around not being able to move and having my heart have this indescribable heavy pit of anxiety. I looked at my front door open with the hat man standing there looking inside my house. I was at this point, in such a state of panic I wanted to start crying, the type of crying when you make those disgusting audible sobs and gasp for air in between each sob, but because I couldn’t still being in sleep paralysis and not being able to move or make sound all I could do is watch this hat man in horror. It would get worse, while being a completely pitch black figure I could see the hat man move and turn his body around. He was now looking at me, my anxiety was at an all time high and at this point everything felt so real and looked so real that I believed it was real. I watched him slowly walk down the steps and make his way to my truck. He walked up to the window and I looked directly at his pitch black figure staring at me through the tinted window of my truck. And for the first time I saw a sleep paralysis “demon” with a color other than pitch black when the hat man grinned from ear to ear with pearly white teeth. His smile looked like Chester cat’s smile from Alice in Wonderland. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this level of fear at any other point in my life, panicked, I squeezed my eyes closed and tried to roll out of the sleep paralysis. I could vividly feel the cold leather of my car seat on my skin but when I finally rolled out of my sleep paralysis I was in my bed. Safe to say I didn’t go back to sleep. That was my worst and most frightening sleep paralysis experience and (knock on wood) I haven’t experienced anything nearly as scary since.
That was when I was about to turn 20, I’m now about to turn 23 and I have made significant improvements to my sleep which in turn has caused me to experience way less sleep paralysis. That time still haunts me. The worst part was how real it felt I legit thought I was in my car I couldn’t tell the difference between reality and dream, everything felt so real. Sleep paralysis is the worst and none of my friends and family experience it, so when I talk about it they don’t seem to grasp how scary it is for me. I have had demons squeeze my throat to where I couldn’t breathe while their pitch black face stares at me. I’ve had people stand in my room and all I could do is watch hoping they aren’t real feeling so vulnerable from not being able to move. I’ve tried screaming at my partner to help as I watched them sleep next to me not being able to get the scream out and feeling so trapped and anxious. It really does suck and I’m sorry for all the other folks who have to deal with it. Feel free to share your worst sleep paralysis stories I’m curious as to what other people have experienced.

Hey Reddit!
So I am an Engineer and currently my age is 27. I live in my village and work remotely in an European Company with 6 Figure salary per month. My home is on the outskirts of village and nearest neighbours are 100m away. Electricity is good, Internet is amazing, We grow our own food, We have buffaloes and cows so our dairy needs are also fulfilled within home itself. Priavte Submersible so 24x7 access to clean drinking water. Nearest town is 8km. Nearest city is 25 Km. The village is very well connected with highways and within 2 hours I can reach Delhi, Dehradun, Chandigarh and all the cities that fall in-between.
The only issue is that there are 2-3 brick making places within 2 kilometres that play very loud music all night. When I call police they stay quiet for some days and then the process repeats.
Loud music doesn't suit me at all. And it is a nuisance. I don't understand what pleasure people get by giving headache to others by playing so loud music.
So although I am very happy with my life and having lived in cities I came back to my home when my dad passed away. We have farming land and mom loves the home as it was Dad's dream.
I am looking forward to get some suggestions on finding a place (a city as I am unmarried and I am not sure girls these days would like to live in village no matter how amazing it is) where I can live peacefully considering the future of children and my wife to be.
Also some help with what to do with this loud music situation.
I am currently saving pretty much everything in salary as my expenses are next to none. (Electricity bill is hardly 500 rupees per month) And the house is very huge. And it's just me and my mom who lives here. I have 2 sisters (one is an Architect and one has just finished her MBBS from top government institution in Uttar Pradesh).
Just feeling so confused and unsure about my next steps.
I really love this place. Especially the clear night sky. I love to sit alone on roof with my telescope to watch the beautiful sky.
Any advice would be really helpful. I really wish dad would be here to help me in this scenario...

All right here it is finally, thank you all for your patience and let's hope chapter 5 is a little more expedient. As usual I hope you enjoy and would love to get everyone's thoughts.
4: Memory transcription subject: Zeak, Harchen orphan, citizen of the Venlil Republic. Date: standardized human time July 13th 2136.
The sky was a roaring mass of fire and pungent black smoke that choked out the light of the sun. As I ran down the street, green blood flowed like a broad shallow river. It splashed up with every step I took, sticking to my scales, the smell of it made me feel sick. As the piercing wail of the emergency sirens seemed to grow louder and louder with every step I took making my ears ring and filling my head with a thunderous pain. My heart pounded, my lungs were on fire, and my legs felt like they were made of lead.
A herd of towering blurry figures appeared out of nowhere and ran past me, some almost knocking me down. In their panic they began to look more like crazed wild animals than people. I cried for help but they couldn't hear me. I waved my paws then grabbed one of them a male Venlil, tightening my grip with all the strength I had hoping this would get his attention. He threw me off like I was trash, less than trash. I turned around and continued pleading for anyone to help me, reaching out for others. But their frantic idiot eyes looked only straight ahead and not down, never down, as the herd passed me.
I turned back around and continued to run, blood splashing up soaking me all the way to my knees. I stumbled, my legs were so tired I could barely stand, and I fell down catching myself, plunging my paws into blood as deep as my wrists. I felt myself scream but I couldn't hear it over the ringing in my ears. A scrap of paper gently floated past me, a single word written on it that echoed in my mind “Weakling.” It passed and four more took its place, “Coward”, “Liar”, “Oath breaker”, “Murderer.” I screamed in rage and slapped the pieces of paper aside, blood splashing onto my snout, but the meanings of those words remained. Getting back up I stumbled forward, and fell down again. Then with an effort born out of sheer desperation I managed to stand again lurching forward. My legs were too tired to run but I had to keep going, I had to save them. Or at least her, please Protector if you're listening please let me save at least her.
It felt like I was searching for an endless time. Lurching forward, stumbling, falling down, getting back up, lurching forward once more. Eventually I saw it and my heart fell into the pit of my stomach. My family's car was turned over on its roof, the driver's side had been caved in. It was engulfed in fire and thick black smoke that rose up into the sky. I struggled forward and when I reached it I collapsed, my knees hitting the hot pavement. The smell of burning metal and something else I didn't know assaulted my senses making my stomach turn. Every muscle in my body begged me to run away. Calling out their names l looked inside, and a wave of nausea and horror flooded through me.
I turned away and vomited, then reached up with my blood soaked paws and covered my eyes. Those words thundered in my head making me think it was going to burst open, as hot tears welled up. “WEAKLING! COWARD! LIAR! OATH BREAKER! MURDERER! MURDERER! MURDERER! MURDERER! “I'm sorry I'm sorry, I should have stayed, I should have helped. Why did I run?” I wailed, still unable to hear myself. Someone rested a delicate paw on my shoulder, and the world went quiet. As the pain in my head melted away.
My eyes snapped open and I was greeted by the gentle ringing of my alarm. In a rush of adrenaline I leaped out of bed not even bothering to wipe the sleep out of my eyes. Running out of my bedroom and down the narrow hallway towards the living room. Convincing myself It had all just been a horrible, horrible nightmare and everything was alright. Mom and Dad would be fixing breakfast, Dad softly singing a Harchen folk song while making something savory and delicious as mom sang along in harmony, preparing something special for my baby sister Naila. Oh yes and Naila, she would probably be sitting on a cushion in the sunny part of the living room. Holding her crooked tail, a birth defect which my parents said could be fixed when she was older. And making excited chirping noises at my arrival, while sunlight shone against her emerald scales. I loved my baby sister, I knew other kids resented having a younger sibling. Dismissing their responsibilities and spending less time with their family and more with their friends. I never once felt that way, the moment Naila hatched I devoted every spare minute I had to her. Finding music that would help her fall asleep, watching over her when my mom needed a break. Excitedly telling her about the day's events and what I learned at school, especially what I learned in computer science which was my favorite class.
“Mom! Dad!” I yelled bursting into the living room. “I just had the worst…” My voice trailed off as I was greeted with nothing “dream.” My heart tightened painfully in my chest, as I frantically ran through the house throwing open every door, knowing that they had to be here somewhere. They were just playing a game on me that was all, a game I would tell them I didn't appreciate. After the final door had been opened and no one was there to yell “Surprise!” My body slumped and I felt heavy as reality set back in, and the memories of what happened hit me like a hammer. I made my way back down the hall to my room, tail dragging behind me as I crawled back into bed. Wrapping myself tightly in a blanket, trying to find some comfort.
It must have been hours I lay there feeling numb all over, wishing I could get up the energy to just cry. I think I might have fallen asleep at one point. If I did it was a dreamless sleep, thank the stars for that. Eventually I did get up, sitting cross-legged on my bed, resting my chin in my paws, staring holes into the wall. I took a deep breath and side numbly looked out the window, searching for anything to distract myself with.
It was overcast, and eerily quiet. The emergency sirens had stopped blaring yesterday mere hours after everyone had gotten to the bunkers. The bodies of the dead had already been collected and their blood cleaned from the pavement. So as to not attract any predators into the neighborhood. I saw my neighbor A'shul was home, his white vehicle was sporting some new dents. I wondered, when he got into his vehicle yesterday morning and drove to the nearest bunker; did he try to help anyone? Or was he thinking only of himself? I suppose it didn't matter really. Nothing mattered.
I turned my head away and looked around my small room taking in everything, every trinket, misplaced item, my old second-hand desk, a big green crackle finished monster. Better suited for a Venlil than a young Harchen, heck I needed a stool just to use it. I had gotten it for basically nothing about a year ago, when the local extermination office was getting rid of their old furniture. All it took was a small bribe and they put it in my bedroom when no one was home. My parents, but especially my mom we're not happy when they saw it the next day. They would tell me at least once a week that It was too big for me and they were going to get rid of that eyesore. “Wouldn't you like something a little more modern dear?” My mom would ask, practically pleading for me to say yes. I used to pray that my parents would just shut up and stop bugging me about that stupid desk. I thought it was great, it made me think of private detective Bal from the exterminators show. Bal was a no nonsense Harchen who was so often pivotal in tracking down the predator or predator diseased person. My desk was very similar to his and that's why I wanted it. But at that moment, I would have given anything to hear those words again.
On the desk there was an ornate wooden box, with a fruit tree in full bloom delicately carved into its lid. There were also scuff marks where it had been dropped, and a deep crack running down the center. It was known as a blessing box, Naila's blessing box to be specific. When she hatched nearly ten months ago the whole neighborhood had been invited to come and write a blessing on a scrap of paper and put it in the box. I had written one too, not a blessing but a promise, a promise I couldn't keep. The belief was that if kept near the infant, the combined power of all those blessings would keep the hatchling safe until their first birthday. Where on that day the box would be set on fire and burned to ash. Releasing those blessings back into the world so they may protect someone else. It was an old tradition and not commonly practiced anymore, but as my dad always said “It is important to keep the old traditions alive my son. Both in song and action.” I remember asking him why? And he looked at me like he had been waiting for that question for a long time. “Because” He said, his tail moving with authority. “Someday when you lose your way, and you don't know where to turn to. You will always have something to guide you back to your center.”
Looking away from the box not wanting to look or think about the damn thing, I shifted my gaze down to my bedside table. There was a little holographic projector showing pictures of me, Mom, Dad and Naila on holiday back on Fahl, the Harchen home world to see family. I was born and raised on Venlil prime, so I didn't really know any of my extended family. There was a picture of my mom and Naila sleeping at the beach. Naila’s crooked tail coiled around mom’s arm, their scales a deep emerald in the light of the sun. The picture changed to me and Dad putting the finishing touches on a sand skyscraper taller than him. I had to sit on his shoulders to place the last bucket full of sand on top. Both of our scales were as blue as the ocean. My tail flicked sadly thinking of that day. I reached over and turned the holo protector off.
My holopad lay next to me flashing, alerting me to an urgent message. I hadn't really looked at my holopad since yesterday morning. Picking it up I tapped the flashing icon. It was an official government statement signed by Governor Tarva herself, saying that the humans Noah and Sarah were peaceful explorers, and that they only wished to be our friends. ‘No, that's impossible, they’re predators. Predators don't want peace, they want to conquer, kill and eat us,’ stunned and confused I kept reading. The rest of the message stated that the two human scientists were completely unaware there was intelligent life of any kind on Venlil prime. ‘No! Lies! Predator lies!’ I yelled inside my head. Something hot began to form in my chest as I read the last bit. Governor Tarver had shown the two predators footage of the Arxur torturing Venlil pups. It said that the humans were capable of empathy and felt deeply saddened and angered by what they saw. They vowed to do everything in their power to get their united nations into the war against the Arxur.
I scrolled all the way down and what I saw stopped me cold. Standing in her office being flanked by General Kam, stood Governor Tarva. Beside them looming over the two Venlil one bigger than the other, both of them covered in some sort of protective suit. Their faces were obscured by dark visored helmets. It said that the larger of the two Noah was male, and the smaller one was Sarah female. Sarah had her hands clasped in front of her, while Noah kept his to his side. Neither were acting threatening, and neither Tarva or Kam looked to be harmed in any way.
Something in me snapped, that hot thing inside my chest erupted and I could feel my scales turn black. I very carefully set my holopad down beside me, then I uncrossed my legs and got out of bed. I stood there in the center of my room shaking slightly, feeling terribly calm as white hot rage flooded my body, spreading to my paws and all the way out to the tip of my long tail. It never had to happen, the panic, the stampede, the death, we could have stayed home and avoided those people. ‘No… no not people,’ a bitter thought came over me. ‘They're not people at all, people stop and help, like that Venlil girl Kayleik, she was a person maybe the only one. But the rest of them were just wild animals, masquerading as sentient beings. ‘Do you really think you're any better, coward?’ Some internal voice said.
A sudden impulse took control of me and I grabbed my desks stool and hurled it against the wall. It dented the wall and bounced off still in one piece. Enraged, I leaped forward grabbing it by the legs, then turned around and slammed it into my desk. The sheet metal dented and the green crackle finish paint flew off, but the stool made of good dense wood from the string fruit tree stayed whole. “DAMN THEM! DAMN THEM! DAMN THEM! DAMN THEM!” I screamed, slamming the stool down again and again, my tail whipping wildly, striking the bed and the floor. The tip of my tail began to hurt, which only fueled my anger. Finally I heard cracking and wood began to splinter off. They didn't have to die, we could have stayed home. The muscles in my shoulders burned and my heart pounded as hot tears began to well up. I brought it down one final time narrowly avoiding the blessing box, and the stool broke in two. I hurled the pieces away from me, one slamming into the corner the other crashing through the window.
I leaned against the desk catching my breath as tears flowed freely. ‘Well that definitely showed them didn't it. Hey I got a great idea! Let's go break some more stuff, that will definitely make you feel better. Idiot!’ That internal voice said all coldness and bitterness. As I cried, the burning in my chest cooled, and I was filled with the same numbness as before. After a while my stomach growled, reminding me I hadn't eaten since yesterday. I moved sluggishly out of my bedroom and went straight to the kitchen, quickly grabbed some fruit and left to go and watch the view screen or something. The moment I entered the living room, memories came flooding back. Mom and Dad laughing, Naila sleeping peacefully, the lingering aroma of breakfast, and the warmth of our home. But now it was all gone and I was alone. For the first time in my life, I had no one to go to.
It was right then I realized I couldn't stay here anymore. This place felt like a tomb, all cold and filled with the memories of the dead. Besides, if I stayed here someone would eventually send the authorities to come and get me. Ship me off to an orphanage, foster care or maybe to my extended family back on Fahl. I balked at the idea of being forced to live with people I didn't know or trust. Memories of yesterday's stampede invaded my mind and I shuddered. I couldn't trust any of them not anymore. No, there was one person I could think of that maybe I could trust. Turning around I went back to my room, found my backpack and grabbed my holopad, the blessing box, the holo projector and my blanket stuffing it into my pack. Then I went to the kitchen and filled my pack up the rest of the way with dried fruit and vegetable snacks. With my backpack looking like it was going to burst I shouldered it and made my way to the front door. When I rested my scaly paw on the door handle I stopped and looked back at the place that was once my home. “Goodbye” I said in a shaky voice, knowing this would be the last time I would never set foot in this house. With my head low I opened the door and stepped out, into the dim light of a new unfamiliar world.
Previous First

Ok, so, I used to live in a different (southern) state during my childhood than the one I live in now (I live in the Northern US, originally born in this northern state as well). I lived in this other state from the ages of 6 until I was almost 16, and throughout the entirety of my elementary and middle school years up until the middle of 9th grade (which was at the high school, some start at 10th grade instead of 9th).
There were 2 main bullies that I dealt with starting in 1st grade/first school year after moving to this state, and as the years went on, these two girls (let's call them Marie & Clarisse) would get their friends in on bullying me. I wasn't popular by any means, but my mother always had me in sports and extracurricular activities with these girls, so I could never really escape them. It was just as bad outside of anything school related as Marie has two younger brothers that my brother was friends with, so I had to pretend to be the 'best of friends' with Marie from 1st grade up until about the end of 7th grade since our families drifted apart from being "close friends".
As far as typical bullying goes in elementary school, I dealt with constant name-calling and cruel "pranks", mostly aimed towards my weight, I wasn't fat, but I wasn't skinny either despite being in sports and was always active. However, those incidents extended to my stuff being stolen, like my notebooks I'd use for schoolwork, or my box of pencils/pens/etc., forcing me to constantly borrow from the few friends I actually had or from the teachers. I used to be in band (which started in 6th grade in that school district), and I played the clarinet, my stepdad had bought me a very nice/sturdy and somewhat expensive tote bag to put my clarinet, music stand, and music binders in for easier storage and to keep my hands free when transporting my 'equipment'. Us band kids were allowed to keep our instruments behind the curtains of the stage in the school's cafeteria (the stage was against the farthest wall from the kitchen/lunch lines), and out of the ~20 kids in band, only my expensive/sturdy tote bag was stolen within the last 2 days of 6th grade, of course suspects were Marie & Clarisse (I saw Clarisse using my tote bag that summer, as my now-smudged name had been written in permanent marker on the straps and one of the sides of the bag). I left it be because I didn't want any conflict, my stepdad bought me another one after finding out the original one was stolen in the first place.
Middle school wasn't much better as the name calling got extensively more graphic and consisted of slurs (like the F slur, as I'm proudly part of the LGBTQ+ community, specifically AgendeNon-binary), furthering the self-hurting thoughts that had started in 3rd grade. I had continuously tried to tell my mom and stepdad about it, only for my pleas for help to go unheard until one week during the winter season in 7th grade. I had gotten sick for 2 days and stayed home an extra day to recover, but during those three days, Marie, Clarisse and their friends had made an Instagram account, posting very unattractive pictures of fellow classmates (i.e. purposely taking pictures with very unflattering angles, poor lighting, etc) and blamed it on me since they put my address in the private information into that account. My mom had found the account, immediately asking about if I was the one behind it, she unfortunately didn't believe me until *after* she ripped my phone from me to look through it for "evidence" that I made the account. When I returned to school the following Thursday after recovering from the small cold, I was constantly bombarded by fellow students about the account since Marie & Clarisse were the ones that spread the obvious false rumor that I made it. By the end of the day, I had finally snapped, yelling "I didn't make that f-cking account. Why can't everyone just stop bothering me about it?" Of course, that earned plenty of attention from the teachers and students within earshot (and thanks to the tiled floors and walls, my yelling echoed throughout most of the first floor and partly into the second floor of my school), I ended up having to talk with the counselor about the whole ordeal because of my frustrated outburst, which resulted with very little help from the staff, but after a few weeks, people seemed to forget that the account even existed since it ended up deleted within a few days after my outburst.
That following school year, 8th grade, was even worse. Sure, the slurs, the other name-calling and thievery of my belongings continued (more so the slurs/name-calling), but by this year, I was almost constantly committing the self-hurting since my mother was of no help, my stepdad was sympathetic but always working and the therapist my mother found for me was basically a deadbeat with bullying situations (she didn't seem to understand or even want to actually help me with the bullying as she was more of a family therapist than anything else). For the district curriculum, we are required to take health class in 8th grade, and as we were going over the unit that encompassed depression, self-harm, and su!c!dal thoughts/actions, I constantly had to have another staff member in the back of the classroom to watch over me and take me out of the class if any of the course material triggered an episode. Thankfully the staff member was that was there for me was the school's police officer, let's call him Officer Lennox, he was like a protective older brother, especially after finding out about how consistently I was bullied. Near the end of the unit, we had to watch Ronan's Escape (it's on YouTube), and since I was going through my own version of Ronan's situation, I ended up breaking down sobbing in class, only to be laughed at by some of the boys that were close friends with Marie & Clarisse. Officer Lennox snapped at them as professionally as possible while helping me out of the classroom to go sit with the nurse to have some downtime to stop sobbing before I was allowed back to my classes.
Another situation, which is the worst of it in 8th grade, was this one girl, let's call her Ava. She thought it would be hilarious to eavesdrop into my conversations with my best friend (we'll refer to her as Raven since that was a nickname she used) throughout lunch and shared classes, only to take our conversations completely out of context in order to string up a lie that Raven and I were planning to unalive the principle. Of course, this wasn't true, the principle was an a-hole to everyone, and Raven & I would discuss that we greatly disliked him. Ava mostly got away with spreading this lie as her mom was a higher-up in the school district, forcing Raven and I to entirely change our class schedules so we weren't in any classes with Ava, as well as almost being expelled. Thanks to Officer Lennox sticking up for both of us, we only had to have in-school suspension for 3 days instead of being expelled. Sadly, Ava got very little repercussions from this, but Raven and I grew even closer as best friends after "The Incident" as we still refer to it as almost 10 years later.
Summer rolled through without a hitch, leading to 9th grade, the start of high school. I was given more freedom from my mother (she's a helicopter parent and abusive/narcissistic) to dress in clothing that I preferred in comparison to always wearing brightly colored athletic wear. I completely changed my appearance, chopped my hair from just above the small of my back to a punk pixie-styled cut, and started wearing graphic t-shirts, ripped jeans, combat boots, and leather jackets. On top of that, I started becoming more confrontational/combative towards my bullies, since they still wouldn't let up, I earned a "bad@ass/bad b!tch" reputation, made friends with other rebellious and misfit types of people in the grades above me, and just fully became more of "me" despite the disapproval from my mother of the amount of change I undergone.
Despite being 14 at the start of 9th grade, I began dating, specifically one fellow student that was a very close friend and felon, he went to jail/juvie throughout the 2nd half of 7th grade and all of 8th grade. He came to the high school 3 months after the year started, and our friendship-turned-relationship sparked right back up as if he never left. I had kept my dating life secret from my family, mostly my mother because I know how bad her reaction would've been if I told her. With him almost always by my side (excluding classes we didn't share), my brand-new appearance, and my quickly attained delinquent/rebellious reputation, most of my issues dissipated much quicker than before. In spite of that, Marie & Clarisse kept making their remarks, trying to drag down my new confidence and constantly break my felon boyfriend (let's call him Collin) and I up. They got more degrading and verbally abusive with these antics, I eventually was completely fed up with it all. In the middle of the school year, within a couple weeks after Yule (Christmas for the non-pagans) & New Years Break, Marie, Clarisse and their group of friends had stopped me in the hallway, purposely surrounding me (there was about 30 of them in total) on my way to class, continuing with their shtick as usual, I slipped the pocketknife out of my pocket, flicking it open as I finally gave in and threatened to unalive them and everyone they care for if they don't leave me the f-ck alone. They saw the opened knife and knew then & there that I was 100% serious, I turned on my heels, shoving through them only to notice the principal and school's police officer (not officer Lennox) staring at me with concerned expressions, they also noticed the knife as there was a glint from the blade due to the blindly bright lights in the hallway. Not a word was uttered as they walked away, never sending a call to my mother or stepdad about the weapon or the confrontation as they had seen my progression in attitude and the amount of f-cks I had (which was none). After that day, those girls never spoke to me again, would barely glance in my direction, would purposely take alternate routes to class if they saw me in the hallway (or would keep to the wall if they couldn't move quick enough), and if we shared any classes, they'd be on the opposite side of the room from me and would do everything they could to never be partnered/grouped with me in class projects.
Everything was smooth sailing from then on, and now I'm 22 (as of late April this year), happily living with my bio-dad, my brother and my 2-year-old kitty, Ziggy. My mother is out of the picture entirely as she refuses to change her mindset and parenting style. I'm still confrontational towards anyone that tries messing with me, especially if they're anti-LGBTQ+/racist/abusive/etc. And thanks to my continuation of my drastic change from 8th grade to 9th grade, I'm now considered both the protector and the therapist to my friends, always there for them because I grew up knowing what it was like to not have that kind of support. I hope this story of roughly half my life can provide some sort of comfort or proof that it does indeed get better, even if it doesn't seem like it in the moment.

To start off, I graduated in December with a B.S in Environmental Science, and was able to land two internships before graduating, both taking place during the same summer. The first internship was working for the Pa Department of Agriculture as a Food Safety Inspector while the second one was doing conservation research with hellbenders in Pa and NY.
The food safety internship was my primary focus as I was employed through the state and had a fairly strict quota I had to meet. This internship involved traveling to schools, summer camps, and restaurants to conduct inspections based on the department and states rules and guidelines. I would conduct the inspections then fill out reports based on the outcome of the inspection. On top of the inspections, I was required to collect, package, and deliver food samples to the departments lab for microbiological testing. Overall, I feel as if this internship gave me a lot of experience related to environmental consulting jobs but with a focus on food and very mundane, boring work.
On the other hand, the hellbender research was more enjoyable and motivated me to meet my quota for the state internship so I could get done early in the week and spend the my off days and sometimes weekends traveling to do research. I performed this research with a professor from a college in my hometown and would travel to various tributaries along the Susquehanna river in search for either tagged hellbenders or untagged hellbenders. The research itself aimed to create a more stable population through habitat reconstruction, surveying, and incubation. We made artificial habitats and placed them in the creeks where we permitted only after surveying and analyzing the area, captured and processed hellbenders (Larval and Adult stages) for data collection and incubation for larval stages. I also acquired an open water scuba certification for the research and was even involved in a documentary related to the Chesapeake bay and the pollution involved in that area through the research. There was a lot more work involved but without getting over specific, I included the main aspects of the research.
Both internships gave me a unique experience and I feel that they would allow me to pursue different paths. The only thing is that I am moving to Ohio because my girlfriend landed a job there and the only jobs I see available are environmental consulting jobs. I have applied to all of the jobs in the area that we are moving to and have either not heard back from them weeks after applying or got denied almost immediately. I'm still hopeful that there is something for me to do that involves more field work than office work, but I am not sure where or how to search for those jobs. I have tried indeed, USAjobs, Ohio's state employment site, and a conservation job site so far and have come up with nothing.
Any help or feedback on my situation and job hunt is extremely appreciated!

So I'm from a server where the new season is coming in about a week's time so I just wanted to get a clearer picture as to what I will be diving into . So these are the few things that I read and understood from what I have seen in this subreddit . As I said, this is from what I have read so please do correct me if I'm wrong !

1. Noble Path - The new season's noblepath rewards were slightly nerfed, there is no more epic selection chest where we can get a free thoran/rowan/etc and they also removed the 20 epic letters which was replaced by rateup letters(unsure of the amount but I'm assuming 20-30) . Which is people are saying is arguably worse, but personally I think it's a fair trade if they give us slightly more rate up tickets in the noble path (maybe 30-40, I would think 30 is fair since 20 epic letters would be almost pity so 30 rateups would make sense) . Also EXP books are given way lesser in the noble path BUT the amount it takes to level up the characters is significantly lesser as well ( I haven't seen anyone do any calculations or anything yet so I'm not sure if the amount of EXP books they give in both seasons are equal in terms of ratio, would be great if someone can give some insight on this) . Other than these 2 rewards, acorns and soulstones should be the same or if not more than what we got from the first season .
2. Server ranking rewards (dream realm, arena, glory expedition) - From what I understand, Server rankings are still a thing, I am unsure if the rewards for server ranking remained unchanged or if it's slightly better ( please give me some numbers, I would love to know, I'm sure some people in the newer servers might want to know as well ) . On top of the server rewards, there are also district ranking rewards, which are better rewards than server ranking rewards . Also, I only know Dream Realm has both server and district ranking rewards, I believe arena technically has it as well, except they are seperated, the new supreme arena rewards is basically the district ranking rewards for arena ( at least that's how I see it, I understand it's technically is kind of a completely different thing ) so I kinda want to know if glory expedition has a server reward and a district ranking reward or how does glory expedition work now ?
3. DPS charts/ranking (honestly quite clueless on this and would love to get more insight) - From what I have seen, since the nerf of true damage, apparently Odie is top dps now, followed by Marilee then comes Alsa/Korin ? I have seen people saying Bryon is a sleeper OP unit as well ? Also I believe that devs(?)/people have been saying/speculating that Marilee/Korin will still be actually STRONG and be better than odie in endless mode with the new artifact .
4. Dream realm ranking - I believe I saw a post saying that the rankings have been alil buggy or that they haven't made it so that we are able to see both server rankings and district rankings ? Has this issue been fixed ? Are you guys in the new season able to see your server ranking and district ranking, have they been separated out ?
5. Keith's Treasure Hut - I'm unsure if this is not a thing in the new season, have they completely removed this feature out of the new season or is this still a thing and we are able to get some random XP books, A tier soul stones just from defeating some overworld mobs and get some currency to exchange .
6. Glory expedition - I mentioned it slightly in point 2 but I'll ASSUME here first that glory expedition points can ONLY be obtained from district rankings if that's the case, are guilds still server locked ? or are we going to be able to invite people from other servers in your district in a guild ?

Lastly, I'm curious as to how they group each district, how many servers are in each district, aren't all if not most servers going into the new season on different days ? I believe there's only maybe 1-2 servers that are created on the same day itself ? If anyone knows any details to this please enlighten me .
So basically these are the points that I have been seeing on reddit and understood and would love to know if I'm wrong on anything and get a clearer picture of what I will be going into in a week's time . If you have made it this far and read everything, please get yourself a cookie, you for sure deserve it ! Apologies if this is messy, there's quite afew things I laid out and honestly this is not my cleanest/neatest work but hopefully my intentions get through . Thanks in advance for all the answers and everyone that read all of this , cheers !
Edit: MARKIJOURNEY (new promo code) for your troubles of reading through, here's the latest promo code for your troubles

2024-190 / Zedd MAP: 84.08 / MLZ MAP: 86.88 / Score Gap: 2.80
Wikipedia?wprov=sfti1#Plot) / IMDb / Official Trailer / Our Collection
If I’ve never said this out loud before now ((shrug)), I’m just going to go ahead and say it now: I sincerely (sincerely) didn’t like 90s cinema during the last decade of the 20th century. I grew up during the gritty realism of 70s New Hollywood and came of age during the devil-may-care fun of the 80s. Something shifted gears in the 90s and it just didn’t jive with my sensibilities.
If I’m being honest, there was a push for big budget blockbusters and I’m nearly always on my back foot when Hollywood emphasizes flash over storytelling. It’s always been part of the cycle and I just figured, “Hey - movies are for everyone, its just time for those sorts of movie lovers.” I joked about it - if you like loud music punctuating every second of action on screen - 90s cinema is for you.
From IMDb: Two storm chasers on the brink of divorce must work together to create an advanced weather alert system by putting themselves in the cross-hairs of extremely violent tornadoes.
If I’m being even more honest, we didn’t get to the movies very often either - we worked 2, sometimes 3 jobs, always 60+ hours a week. Modesto, CA had lost all its vital industries by then and the only thing out there for the likes of Mrs. Lady Zedd and I were low-paying service sector jobs. So, yeah - we were working our asses off, just to be poor. Movies were an expense we could hardly afford. This ladies and gentleman, is exactly how bias can form: I don’t like the things I can’t afford or have time for anyway.
Bias sucks the roof right off the top of honesty, and unless your personal philosophy revolves around brutal self-honesty, reflection, and rooting out hypocrisy, your personal biases will run unnoticed and unchecked - no bueno if you’re going to spend your time watching, ranking, and writing about the movies. Fortunately, my personal philosophy revolves around brutal self-honesty, reflection, and rooting out hypocrisy.
Here it is: I’m sorry 90s Cinema, I certainly was operating from a place of personal bias - not so much in the past decade or so - but certainly prior to that. While I was always willing to roll the dice on 60s, 70s, and 80s motion pictures - I often left your offerings on the shelf. I hope you see I’ve made strides in amending that and the trend, overall, in my collecting has been more even handed. Was your incidental orchestration too numerous and too loud? Yes - but that’s ok. Just my opinion, and - as my great and wise Great Grandpappy very well might have said, “opinions are like assholes, everybody’s got one and most of them stink.”
What’s (honestly) happened over the last four or five years is, I’ve gained an appreciation for 90s films that was nearly absent during the decade itself. Part of it has to do with seeing the scope of movies like Jurassic Park, Twister, or Armageddon (for instance) and recognizing part of what I hadn’t liked (the movies changed) was, in retrospect, a good thing. The medium was evolving, growing, and filling new spaces. I was the one stuck in the past.
After I became disabled and suddenly had a lot of time on my hands, I did a lot of exploring through all genres and film eras and just this, alone, chipped away at my old biases. I learned so much movie history that I brought to bear on other films - it changed how I saw them. Enhanced my appreciation, across the board.
Watching Twister in 1996, I was full of “that doesn’t look right” and eye-rolls for flying cows and scenes with trucks driving through houses. While I still register these simple crowd-pleasing visuals for what they are, I can also feel the chemistry between our leading stars, understand the drive of the characters, love the resolution of conflict, enjoy the “disaster film” aspects.
MLZ says she just needed this movie, today. There’s something to watching a movie as therapy after you’ve come through a bumpy patch. We’re all safe and sound but we can see the look on Little Miss Zedd and her husband’s faces. They’re glad to be here with us but also, really, just want things repaired so they can go on home. It could be days or weeks - we just don’t know. I did the only thing I could think of: get them safe and comfortable, buy a tv and player for the spare room, hand over movies and tv I know will be that needed distraction.
You all know, movie on can mean many things. It’s equal parts laughs and good feelings when things are going your way / therapy, distraction, and communion when it’s not. We said 2024 was going to be bumpy, we said we’re here to be a safe corner - you’ll never truly know how much it means to us that you, our cinematic siblings, provide that for us right back. Take care of each other - check your personal bias - and above all…
Movie On :]

High Volume Cocktail Bar and Restaurant
Merlino & Co. – Kittyhawk
We are looking for an experienced Restaurant Manager to assist in operations of a high-volume, award-winning venue that is part of one of Sydney’s leading hospitality groups. We are seeking an individual who is passionate about hospitality as a career, is customer service focused, displays great leadership and has the ambition to grow with us as a group.
Kittyhawk is a dynamic and large venue, and we are searching for someone with experience in large venue operations and departments.
About Us:
We are a high-volume cocktail bar and restaurant that also hosts a dynamic events department. This sees us as host to a variety of scenarios each week.
The venue was designed around the Liberation of Paris in 1944 and has been nominated for multiple awards. We bring together an old-world charm with a modern and delicious food and beverage offering.
Our bar is strongly spirit focused, with a concentration on North American Whisky and Rum – as reflected in our seasonal cocktail lists. Our team of professional bartenders deliver world class cocktails and quality service but know when to turn the place into a party when times suit.
Spirits aside, we also boast a comprehensive wine list encompassing French, Australian, and Natural wines in what we consider to be the best of the best.
This is all designed to go hand-in-hand with our modern French food offerings. We focus on using local produce of the highest quality to create an unpretentious dining atmosphere. The menu changes seasonally using sustainable produce as much as possible. The chefs make as much as possible in house which flows through to the end product.
We are an amazingly tight knit team of passionate individuals who live and breathe hospitality and push ourselves daily to constantly provide top level customer service and products.
Kittyhawk is part of a larger company called Merlino & Co., which also operates The Lobo and Big Poppas.
The Role:
Be a direct support to our current management team to help manage the day-to-day operations of the venue. Ensure that the level of customer service is consistently in line with our brand standards. Liaise with customers and the employment team to ensure all feedback is taken on board. Take and manage reservations, greet guests, take orders. Assist in leading and developing a strong and established FOH and BOH team. This includes recruiting, training and supervising all employees. Plan and assist in new menu launches – preparing product costings according to budget, preparing execution timeline in conjunction with the other departments, train applicable staff. Assist and implement stock control procedures, and regular inventory management. Manage and plan for functions and events hosted throughout the year. Ensure venue meets all OSHA requirements, and that our service meets all OLGR RSA requirements. Required Skills and Attributes:
Have held a similar managerial position in a high-volume venue for a minimum of 3 years. Ability to lead, manage, motivate, and develop staff. Proven success driving revenue and profits. Knowledge of quality food & beverage products. Experience with management reporting, stock control, OHS & handling venue security concerns. Strong organisational skills with the ability to think on your feet and multi-task. Self motivated, makes use of check lists and communication methods to manage own workload and give regular updates. Strong organisational skills with the ability to think on your feet and multi-task. Self motivated, makes use of check lists and communication methods to manage own workload and give regular updates. A passion for hospitality, leading from the front and developing relationships across all levels of the business. Valid NSW RSA, and full working rights required. Salary and Benefits:
Full-time contracted position. Salary package of $74k + super + tips. Access to our group’s mental health support system. Working with a team that prioritizes staff personal development. 50% employee discount across all of our outposts. Being a part of an amazing working culture, in a company that prides itself on staff retention, happiness, and work/life-balance.
Apply here
Via needabarista.com.au

Over the course of my 4 year marriage to my partner, I have arrived at the position that I was abused, manipulated, and functionally enslaved to a mentally ill partner.
In simplest form, the progression is apparently observable. She was diagnosed with cancer in October of 2019 while we were engaged. Due to the diagnosis, we moved up our actual marriage date (our wedding was still set for mid-April) to December 1, 2019. Her surgery was December 13, 2019. In my compassion for her, I agreed to move our wedding date up to offset her anxiety around who would be responsible for her if things went south with her surgical treatment.
Our first month of marriage was straightforward; she was on pain meds recovering from surgery, so the main engagement that occurred was me walking her up and down the hospital hallway as she recovered and trying to meet her base physical needs of hygiene, food, and presence. We stayed in the hospital for 2-3 weeks (with recurring hospital visits for complications).
Quickly after we figured out our marital living situation in her small 3-bed apartment with 2 roommates, our relationship devolved. Specifically, she was irritable because of the pain she was in, causing her to lash out at me with regular frequency for small things. If I didn’t put clothes away in the right place, didn’t anticipate her needs (without her communicating them), or ate the wrong food in front of her she would shout at me and decry me for my thoughtlessness.
These small, critical engagements were wounding and created a distance between us – and there was no upside. She was never kind, never paid mind to needs I might have, and started down a path of cultivating a root of bitterness in her soul. She quickly revealed herself to be venomous, hateful, and vindictive when she felt like she was wronged — and any observation of concern about our marriage resulted me in being accused of being mean or insensitive, even if I spent hours or days calculating the best way to share my concern (and I have a master’s degree in communication where I focused in studying disagreement — I know how to carefully package concerns).
During this time, I worked hard to provide for us, foreseeing a significant time period where I would have to be primary financial provider and caregiver. I increased my income each year we were married by around 25%, finishing our marriage at >$80,000 in yearly income, compared to starting our marriage at a modest $42,000 salary (including dramatically improving our healthcare). Frankly, I increased my income to provide for us in spite of the lack of support at home.
But to be clear: I don’t think it would have been particularly difficult to provide financially if I had an ounce of support at home.
However, the relentless criticism and expectation of mind-reading continued through the years. I rationalized this abuse for the first year of our marriage because of all the excuses to be cruel, she had a good one – she had cancer. I hung onto a hope that it would stop. Contrary to my hope, as the years went on – and our expenses climbed – and I continued to work myself to the bone – she continued to relentlessly critique and even started being more emotionally demanding, expecting me to take responsibility for her inability to cope with her emotions – I was drowning. She was asking too much of me. There was no deliverance from her abuse.
I was exhausted. In the peak of the abuse I endured at her hand, I was working multiple jobs, sleeping 10+ hours a night and napping frequently during the day around meetings and work, then coping with alcohol to numb myself to the abusive dynamic and fall asleep with no support from her. The only time I could approach her sexually was when I was intoxicated, with inhibitions lowered. The only time I could have a conversation with her was with a counselor in the room. Without something to mitigate opportunity for her to be cruel to me, either a mediator or self-medication, I was scared.
I lived at home in a constant state of alert and cognitive fatigue. No matter how I tried to make sense of my home life, I couldn’t. When she looked at or touched me, I would recoil in fear, anticipating some sort of incisive critique or demand expressed. Then she would criticize me for not responding warmly to her, exacerbating the cycle.
I couldn’t meet her needs – I was utterly exhausted. When I would tell her of the exhaustion I experienced in marital counseling, her responses were typically something along the lines of not believing me, denying what I was saying was true, or calling my exhaustion an ‘excuse’. I could interact happily with my friends… why not her?
I did not deny her demands were legitimate; rather, I expressed my inability to meet them because of how fatigued I was. I said ‘I can’t’ so many times. I realize her demands were small; affection, saying ‘i love you’, complimenting her. But it’s disorienting to be consistently berated and belittled by a person and then asked to compliment them and tell them you love them.
The push and pull of abuse is exhausting to a person who is not mentally because it does not make sense.
Further, in counseling I realized that I have forgotten that I have needs. I have lost the tools to even evaluate what my needs might be because, implicitly and explicitly in my marriage, I was told my needs don’t matter.
My marriage made no sense; I was obviously drowning, exhausted with the demands our life imposed on me. I was doing everything I could to get straight. I was in individual therapy, marital counseling, pastoral counseling, trying different antidepressants (4 in total – all with no effect), changing eating habits, trying to reduce my drinking, getting medical tests to see if I had health issues causing my fatigue, and being vulnerable in my friendships in an attempt to invite others in to process and move forward and figure out my marriage. I desperately shared everything I could about my marriage, hoping someone else would crack the code where I couldn’t.
None of my efforts worked. I could not get out of the exhausted state I was in. It’s worth noting here that within weeks of separating I almost completely cut out alcohol, got into a regular sleep schedule, was waking up at 6-7am every day and reading multiple hours (which I couldn’t do in marriage due to cognitive fatigue/distraction), and experienced a resurgence of energy. I have felt the duress I was under lift and lift and lift and the weeks and months have went on.
In retrospect, I was experiencing cognitive fatigue because I was taking the demands my wife was placing on me seriously, but no matter what I did I could not make sense of them. How could she not see that I was doing everything I could to make ends meet – the ends which she was imposing on me? I did not have additional energy left. She would ask me ‘Do you love me?’ and I didn’t know how to respond. How is my work not at least some symbol of love? My dream was to be a poor professor, which she knew – instead I was grinding myself to the bone, working in digital marketing with multiple freelance projects, picking up a bartending gig and a teaching gig on top of full-time employment.
The last straw was when she accused me of abuse. I took that accusation seriously, and weighed it against my experience. ‘Am I an abuser?’ I asked myself. I sorted through my behavior and how I treated her. I came to the conclusion that I may be a poor husband in serious ways; but I am not an abuser. And the abuse question opened the door to the question… ‘I may not be an abuser… but is there abuse in our marriage?’ And the answer quickly became ‘Yes.’
When we were married, I understood that she wasn’t going to work much for a while. However, she worked the bare minimum she could for 4 years, earning at most in a single year $18,000. As the years went on and my income climbed, our debt continued to climb as well. She was still contributing the same, yet spending frivolously on useless knick knacks for our home and a cat. As I packed up our home to sell, the majority of items were dozens of boxes of useless junk she’d accumulated.
She lived a life of mania around finances. We would go to marital counseling and she would regularly express, ‘I would rather be poor and happy than rich and sad’. We were poor and sad. Sure, my income was the highest it’d ever been – but we were still drowning, with debts climbing. At the end of our marriage, we’d accumulated about $20,000 in consumer debt between credit cards and personal loans.
It was traumatizing (and abusive) to go to counseling and be told by my partner she would ‘rather be poor and happy and than rich and sad’ when the factual scenario we were living was neither. She actively denied reality – both my lived experience and the reality of our finances – at my expense. It was killing me, trying to make sense of what we were going through but being unable to make sense of what I was being told and what I was experiencing.
Throughout this time, it is worth adding that she also leveraged my spiritual leadership to ‘set me straight’. I was in a conservative Evangelical space, believing that men are the ultimate provider in a family unit and primarily responsible for the status of the marriage. Because I was not doing what she wanted me to (lavishing her with affection), I was muscled into multiple groups and meetings where pastoral care intervened to restore our marriage. In the moment, I submitted to my pastoral care because of my trust for them and my faith in God. Now, I believe this dynamic was abusive; my pastoral care did not care in any sense for my soul; they only cared about fixing my marriage. No questions around ‘why’ my marriage was so bad were asked; only what was going on and how it could be fixed. I relish the thought of my pastoral care being held accountable for the abuse they exercised upon me during this time on judgment day, albeit through a shaken faith in a God that would enable this dynamic.
With my spiritual community, I shared that I felt like she was my tormentor; that she it felt as if I were on the ground due to exhaustion, and she was standing on my throat, telling me to ‘get up’ and ‘tell me you love me’; that our metaphorical life was a boat, sinking, and I was desperately bailing out water. All the while, she stood at the other end of the boat, desperately bailing water in and looking at me like I was a maniac.
And yet, because there was no adultery, there was no category for divorce. We had sworn an oath before God and were required to fix this.
As I reflect upon my marriage (and the ongoing divorce proceedings), a few things are clear.
She is an abuser. I don’t think she intends to be, but impact matters. She is mentally ill and unable to reckon with basic reality.
She is a manipulator. She manipulated my spiritual community against me. I was viewed as someone to be corrected while begging for help from my trusted friends and pastoral care, whom I now regret being vulnerable with due to their abuse and denial of my reality because I didn’t fit neatly into their thin theological categories.
She is an enslaver. In divorce proceedings, she is doing everything she can to get every dollar from me, leveraging student loans I did not co-sign, my continually increasing income due to my hard work, and denying every claim of dissipated assets she can.
It is truly a mind-breaking experience to see your compassion leveraged against you for money. I had to sit under an attorney proclaiming to a judge that, since I consented to move up our marriage date before her cancer surgery, ‘I knew what I was getting into’. That she is entitled to large sums of money (that do not exist; we never had more than $3000 in our bank account during marriage) due to that decision.
Even apart from the abuse, I did not know what I was getting into. Including the abuse, I am full of remorse for having invited such an evil, hateful person into my life.
This experience has been the most challenging to my faith. As I endured abuse from her, I trusted God in a few ways. That the compassion I showed would maybe be rewarded – or, at least not punished. That my spiritual community wanted what was best for me. That God was not a punitive, hateful God (like my partner). I do not believe this trust was well placed, but am open to shortcomings in my views here.
I struggle to consent to a God that allowed my experience to occur. I’m open and processing in some kind of faith, but I really don’t know what it looks like to find a place to put this pain and betrayal that I’m experiencing.
I am a survivor of abuse, and the abuse I endured was mind-shattering. I sacrificed everything to support a partner diagnosed with serious bodily illness, which drove her to hate me and deny my lived experience because she could not reconcile it with the hatefulness she cultivated over our marriage, choosing bitterness over any positivity for four years, poisoning my well-being in the process.
What I envisioned to be the most compassionate moment of my life — marrying a person with cancer and promising to support and love them — has become nothing but a symbol of pain and remorse. I envisioned a life where my partner and I would fight against the terror of cancer; instead she hopped to the other side, choosing her ongoing health issues as the ally and myself as the enemy.
It took me 4 years to realize it. And as she drags me through court to leverage every dollar out of me I can, my only regret is that I didn’t leave my abuser to her own devices sooner; self-pity, hatefulness, and a sheer disregard toward taking responsibility for anything.
I am grateful but drowning. As we are negotiating settlement, the end is near, and my abuser will soon be unable to execute any influence in my life.

Hi, I am a UK-based Architect with around 7 years of work experience (1 year post-qualification) at a large practice and have begun putting together my first post-qualification portfolio. I have been asked by several recruiters to send them a CV and 8-10 page sample portfolio which would be separate to a more extended version to be brought to any potential interview.
I am fortunate that quite a few projects I have worked on have been completed and professionally photographed so I was wondering whether it would be best to only include renders and photos from 6 or so projects as opposed to any snippets from tender drawings, construction drawings etc. I have generally worked on project delivery so far in my career (looking to gain more experience in concept design and early stage work) so haven't produced any "sexy" conceptual drawings or diagrams since university. Given my level of experience I want to include far more professional work than academic but it all feels a bit dull and dry compared to a student portfolio.
My other concern is that some 1:100 A1 Revit plans or a 1:5 parapet detail I did would either be illegible if included in part of a page or not "sell" me in a very interesting way if taking up an entire page. Conversely, I am wary that only including photos/renders may come across as me taking credit for the whole building when really I have worked on distinct packages and that I wouldn't demonstrating any evidence of being able to produce a drawing set to those reviewing the concise portfolio.
I would want to include drawings in the larger portfolio but would ideally just include a list of the programs used and summary of my role alongside key facts and photos/visuals in the shorter portfolio.
Is this sort of portfolio something which other people here have experience of producing and wouldn't mind sharing their approach? Thanks.

An attractive alternative to traditional rewards for outstanding performance

Synthetic equity refers to a collection of strategies and instruments frequently used to provide employees with financial advantages of share ownership without actual shares changing hands. It is a potent instrument that practically all advanced investment organizations may utilize to attract, retain, and reward competent employees.
The favorable economic qualities of equity are embedded into synthetic equity plans, also known as equity alternatives, without the financial obligations coming from purchasing shares from the initial owner. Instead, synthetic equity programs often develop into cash payments to the employee and a corresponding deduction for the employer. Since it represents compensation, synthetic equity may be easily adjusted to handle almost any scenario.
The following scenarios exemplify the situations in which synthetic equity is an optimal solution:

• An employee desires ownership-like benefits but is unable or unwilling to assume the financial risk of purchasing and paying for company equity.
• An employee aspires to ownership but lacks the credentials or licenses required for a role of a full equity partner in the company.
• Employees feel uncomfortable providing personal guarantees or accepting responsibility for credit lines, office leases, payroll-related expenditures, or the commitments made under buy-sell or continuity agreements.
• A company owner wants to share the economic worth of equity rather than the actual equity. This includes owners not interested in supporting this transaction with seller financing.
• A company owner wishes to motivate an employee to work on increasing the company’s value but also wants to discourage them from leaving and creating competition for the business, engaging in client solicitation, or performing other actions that might harm the company.
• An owner planning to leave the company in the following 5-year period wishes to reward one or more critical workers at the time of the sale without requiring them to purchase and pay for equity.

Tokenization of business and individual performance

The above method has been known for decades. The critical challenge in the modern business world is ensuring that innovation and productivity are rewarded equitably across an organization. At the same time, executives must be compensated for creating these conditions.
However, rewarding innovation and equitably delivering executive-level incentives and rewards across the organization from the top to the shop floor is the alternative made possible only by deploying smart contracts and blockchain technology — tokenizing business and individual performance.
The tokenization of business elements such as performance and innovation is one of the newest ways to drive planned outcomes. The process is about moving your business to blockchain. Although it may seem complicated and challenging to implement, almost any entrepreneur can tokenize the building blocks of their business. Tokenization is simply transforming a company’s value into a digitized resource in the form of tokens.
Tokens represent a value within the organization in a transparent and auditable way. They can be cashed in upon completion of the vesting period if both company and individual targets have been met. What makes Synthetic Equity on the chain unique is its transparency, auditability of incentives, and most notably, equitable distribution of tokens corresponding to each employee’s job size.

The Mechanism Behind Synthetic Equity

For synthetic equity to produce favorable results, a profitable, successful firm with a proper entity structure is necessary. Corporations and LLCs can use the tools relating to synthetic equity. In some situations, they may also be used by sole proprietorships, albeit in a slightly different form.
To fully grasp the idea of synthetic equity, it might be helpful to understand the mechanism behind equity in general. Understanding how equity functions allows those interested in synthetic equity to utilize some of the tools used in working with actual equity.
For example, investing in an independent advisory company generally offers the following considerable advantages:

• The right to vote
• Participation in the corporate governance system
• Access to the company’s financial documents
• Limited liability
• A proportionate cut of the revenue
• Sale-related long-term capital gains tax rates
• Capital growth potential

SyntheticEquity.io app is changing how we think about incentives and rewards.
These advantages have a monetary value. Therefore, purchasing equity carries a price, and awarding employee equity has tax repercussions. A tiny ownership share in a fee-based firm might cost several hundred thousand dollars. In these types of businesses, the stock is often acquired and paid for after tax, and the equity partner or shareholder usually expects to obtain the entire set of rights in return for taking on the investment risk.
The rights can be unbundled, meaning that the current owner does not have to sell or provide the full bundle of rights to an employee or investment advisor. To fulfill specific goals, each of the rights mentioned above can also be further divided or redefined in as much detail as necessary. For example, one or two rights from the total package might be provided, such as the opportunity to grow the company’s worth or a percentage of the profits.
By allowing someone to own a portion of the rights in the bundle rather than all of them, synthetic equity generates an advantage. These unique rights or benefits are often described in a plan document and frequently provided via individual award agreements between the employer and employee. A wide range of flexible options for creating a solid and profitable company are produced when equity-like benefits and a long-term remuneration strategy are combined.
Synthetic equity plans often come in one of the following three forms:

• Full-value plans can result in a substantially big payment to an employee since they pay both the value of the underlying stock and any appreciation that is gained over a certain period.
• Performance unit plans swap out equity as the value metric for another metric like sales growth or profitability.
• The value of any growth in the underlying stock value over a specific period following the date of the award is typically paid out under appreciation-only plans.

These kinds of plans are like conventional non-qualified plans insofar as they offer a possibility of discrimination and a significant risk of forfeiture that often lasts until shortly before the benefit is awarded to the employee.
Essentially, synthetic equity is a type of delayed compensation that links a worker’s financial incentive to the company’s performance. By striking the correct balance between the danger of losing a valuable employee and the potential future cost to the employer, each plan is specifically created to meet the advisor’s needs. The plans are intended to reward employees for contributing to the company’s success, but they also ensure that no payment is due if either the company doesn’t develop as expected or the employee doesn’t uphold their end of the deal by quitting their job to work for a rival company or starting their own.

Synthetic Equity Benefits

Synthetic equity is meant to be an equity-related instrument that helps a company find, reward, and keep hold of valuable people.
Synthetic equity benefits are:

• Synthetic equity inspires employees to adopt an owner’s perspective and put development and shareholder value first.
• There is no debt since important participants do not buy phantom shares like full equity stockholders do.
• If a participant’s job terminates before the designated vesting date, they typically forfeit any benefits under the plan.
• Participants normally do not have voting rights or a vote in corporate governance and may or may not be entitled to collect profits from the company.
• Synthetic equity programs provide flexible vesting timelines; vesting can take place over time, depending on the accomplishment of certain quantifiable company or individual goals.
• If the company’s growth is slower than expected and the stock price does not rise, nothing is exchanged.
• When a synthetic equity grant is issued, owners of genuine equity are not adversely affected by a dilution of their ownership percentages.
• Compared to S-Corporations, which are often more restricted, more freedom is provided in terms of stock class and shareholder count.
• The advising business’s shareholders’ or members’ agreement and associated buy-sell provisions do not immediately apply to synthetic equity.

Synthetic equity options’ versatility comes with many benefits but may also have many drawbacks. The companies need to make decisions regarding what valuation technique will be utilized, what vesting rules will be implemented, how liquidity problems will be addressed, what eligibility conditions will be imposed, and what rights to participate in corporate governance will be granted due to the wide range of possible directions for designing synthetic equity plans.

Conclusion

In the hands of a forward-thinking business leader, synthetic equity is a potent instrument. It may be utilized to solve the difficulty of attracting, rewarding, and maintaining top talent to create a great practice or viable business without the challenges of selling and paying for an actual ownership stake.
Like full stock, synthetic equity may refocus the employee’s attention and motivate them to contribute to a flourishing and profitable company.
Authors

Paul Lalovich

Organizational Effectiveness and Strategy Execution Practice

In the ever-evolving landscape of modern business, companies face a critical choice when it comes to rewarding and motivating their key talent.

The debate between adopting traditional token distribution models and embracing Synthetic Equity with deferred cash payments based on performance continues to shape the compensation strategies of organizations worldwide. This expository essay aims to shed light on this important decision-making process, offering insights into the advantages and pitfalls of each approach.

Token Distribution:

Pros:

1. Immediate Ownership: Token distribution provides immediate ownership, aligning team members with the project’s success from the outset.
2. Strong Incentive: Tokens are potent incentives, as their value can soar if the project prospers.
3. Transparency: Blockchain-based tokens often offer transparency and traceability in ownership and transactions.
4. Avoiding Ownership Dilution: Tokens allow companies to avoid diluting their cap tables.
5. Payment Efficiency: Salaries and performance-based bonuses in token form can conserve cash reserves, with employees seeking liquidity in the market.

Cons:

1. Market Volatility: Token values can be highly volatile, creating uncertainty for team members.
2. Limited Liquidity: Token liquidity constraints make converting tokens into cash challenging.
3. Tax Implications: Transferring token value can trigger income tax obligations.
4. Legal and Regulatory Compliance: Issuing tokens, especially in countries like the US, often involves legal, financial, and administrative hurdles.
5. Access to Top Talent: High-caliber talent may be hesitant to accept tokens due to market volatility.

Synthetic Equity:

Pros:

1. Performance-Driven: Synthetic Equity and deferred cash payments link rewards directly to individual or team performance, fostering a strong work ethic.
2. Predictable Rewards: Cash payments offer stability and predictability compared to volatile tokens.
3. Flexibility: Synthetic Equity and cash incentives can be customized to align with specific performance metrics and goals.
4. Avoiding Ownership Dilution: Tokens allow companies to avoid diluting their cap tables.
5. Value for Investors: High-performing organizations often deliver greater value to shareholders.
6. Utility Token: Synthetic Equity tokens, being a derivative of work, carry no inherent value, making them utility tokens with fewer legal implications.
7. Bottom-Line Impact: Additional payments are derived from bottom-line growth, directly rewarding employees for business expansion.
8. Tax Implications: Specify payouts such as “time certain” and separation of service, all of which are 100% compensation expense for tax purposes. Have the lowest predictable cost to the company based on after- tax cash flow.

Cons:

1. Performance management system set up: Synthetic Equity requires strong expertise in establishing performance management and incentive structures.
2. Delayed Ownership: Synthetic Equity lacks the immediate ownership associated with tokens.
3. Administrative Complexity: Implementing and managing a comprehensive incentives program can be administratively intricate.

SyntheticEquity.io combines innovative compensation strategies designed to simulate the value of actual equity shares.
Synthetic Equity offers an alternative to the traditional token issuance model, integrating performance management seamlessly. It aligns stakeholder and shareholder interests, encourages innovation, and rewards high performance. Furthermore, it addresses a common challenge faced by startups—creating and measuring key performance indicators (KPIs). Our unique performance plan methodology enhances teamwork, promotes a healthier work environment, and ensures individual productivity by emphasizing collective success.
Synthetic equity is ideal for companies committed to thriving and nurturing top talent. Individuals who meet their KPIs are rewarded, while those failing to contribute positively to the business unit’s performance forfeit part of their compensation.
The decision between token distribution and Synthetic Equity hinges on an organization’s objectives, risk tolerance, and the preferences of founders and team members. Some organizations may choose a combination of both to balance immediate ownership and performance-based incentives. Legal, regulatory, and tax considerations, as well as project dynamics, must be carefully weighed. Consulting with legal and financial experts can prove invaluable in crafting an effective and compliant compensation strategy.
Synthetic equity is a powerful tool for attracting, retaining, and rewarding top talent, especially in owner succession planning. However, many business owners and advisors possess only a rudimentary understanding of synthetic equity and its design. This essay defines synthetic equity, explores its appropriateness for specific capital and tax structures, illustrates its flexibility and benefits in owner succession, and showcases its potential through a compelling case study.
Synthetic equity, unlike traditional equity plans, is a compensation approach that grants executives and contract-based employees the right to a defined portion of enterprise value without requiring them to invest their own capital. It offers exceptional versatility and can be tailored to meet specific criteria related to who receives what, when, and under what conditions in terms of value sharing.
Outlined below are six fundamental examples of synthetic equity programs:

1. Phantom Stock:
   • An executive is entitled to a percentage share of the company’s value. (For example, Joe holds 5% of the company’s value expressed as phantom stock.)
2. Phantom Stock Over an Owner’s Threshold:
   • An executive has the right to a percentage share of the company’s value beyond an initial fixed threshold value or formula. (For instance, Joe has 5% of the company’s value above $10 million.)
3. Stock Appreciation Rights (SARs):
   • Executives are granted the right to share in a set percentage of the company’s value exceeding its value at the time of the grant—similar to employee stock options. (For instance, Joe has 5% of the company’s value above the current valuation of $20 million.)
4. Value Band Plans:
   • Executives are entitled to a graduated percentage share of the company’s value based on predetermined thresholds. (For example, Joe has a baseline right to 3% of the company’s value and can earn an additional 1% for every $10 million in growth, with a maximum share of 7%.)
5. Sales Bonus in Event of Change of Control:
   • Executives are entitled to a percentage share of the company’s value payable exclusively in the event of a change of control. (For example, Joe has 5% of the company’s value expressed as phantom stock, payable only if a change of control occurs.)
6. Simulated Equity Plan:
   • Executives are entitled to a percentage share of the value of a specific division or segment of the company, determined by a predefined formulaic breakup value of the company. (For instance, Joe holds 5% of the European division’s value based on a preset formulaic breakup value of the company.)

These diverse synthetic equity programs offer flexibility and the ability to tailor incentive structures to meet specific business objectives and circumstances.
The possibilities are virtually endless. Synthetic equity is akin to a sculptor’s clay for incentive structures—it can be molded into a wide array of forms to suit a business owner’s preferences. It can transform from a tracking stock to a pure performance-based incentive.
Of significant significance to business owners, synthetic equity operates independently of the company’s shareholders’ agreement and related buy-sell terms. This independence grants a high degree of flexibility, particularly concerning payout. Synthetic equity agreements must adhere to IRS code section 409A, which outlines rules governing plan payouts. According to 409A, synthetic equity plans can be triggered by six permissible events or plan termination. The three events that cannot be predicted are death, disability, and unforeseeable emergencies, while the three strategic triggers are change of control, time certain, and separation of service. Consequently, business owners have the authority to determine when executives can realize the value of the plan. This contrasts with a typical employee stock option plan, where executives decide when to “exercise” their stock options independently. In summary, synthetic equity plans provide business owners with enhanced control and flexibility in terms of plan design and payout.
In conclusion, synthetic equity stands as a compelling option for organizations seeking to optimize cash resources, empower succession, and reward high performance. It offers a robust and flexible framework, ensuring that top talent remains motivated and aligned with organizational goals. Embracing Synthetic Equity can truly set a company on the path to sustained high performance and success.
Authors

Paul Lalovich