Update #3 appears at the bottom.
Due to numerous disparaging comments by multiple individuals, I have reposted my article.
Heckling does not change what occurred. People need to know these truths, especially those who have experienced the same. They need to know they are sane, that such things are indeed being perpetrated, and the perpetrators use shame to silence them and protect their activities.
I write to encourage them not to listen to disparaging people who speak without knowledge.
February 10, 2024
I am Joseph Cafariello, a Canadian citizen and ex-member of the Canadian military. Of sound mind, not on medication, not a drug user, not a marijuana smoker, not an alcohol drinker, with no mental disorders.
I recently posted to this Liberty subreddit experiences of harassment by Vancouver's police and fire departments (Vancouver, BC, Canada). I’m the fellow who was repeatedly ordered by police to stay out of Vancouver’s Stanley Park, and was continually harassed whenever I visited the park (which I do every second day on my early morning walks).
Immediately following that post, they changed some of the techniques they use in my case. They were either informed of my post or found it themselves, seeing as my internet activity, and phone activity for that matter, are under continuous surveillance (plenty of proof which I will not include here to avoid running off-topic).
In this post, I would like to shed some light on other harassment which is still ongoing, since it occurs in private, away from potential observers. It involves the Canadian and US militaries.
Havana Syndrome
In 2016, numerous employees of the Canadian and US embassies in Havana, Cuba, started experiencing head injuries ranging from mild headaches to concussions. It happened in their sleep, and came to be called Havana Syndrome.
Wikipedia explains (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Havana\_syndrome):
“Havana syndrome is a cluster of idiopathic symptoms experienced mostly abroad by U.S. government officials and military personnel. The symptoms range in severity from pain and ringing in the ears to cognitive dysfunction and were first reported in 2016 by U.S. and Canadian embassy staff in Havana, Cuba. Beginning in 2017, more people, including U.S. intelligence and military personnel and their families, reported having these symptoms in other places, such as China, India, Europe, and Washington, D.C. The U.S. Department of State, Department of Defense, and other federal entities have called the events "Anomalous Health Incidents" (AHI). Of over a thousand purported cases, the majority of US investigative bodies found only a few dozen cases to be suspicious.”
Ladies and gentlemen, I can tell you exactly what happens, because I have been experiencing this since I first joined the Canadian military back in 2002, and am still experiencing these “torments” (as I call them) to this day, already 3 years after leaving the military.
I go to bed. In about 15 minutes, just as I am on the cusp of falling asleep, a hear and feel a heavy thud reverberate and ultimately strike my skull. My body releases a sharp burst of adrenalin, my heart starts racing, and my blood’s circulation speeds up significantly. Depending on the severity of the blow, it can take me anywhere from 30 minutes to an hour to fall asleep again. Though there have been times I could not return to sleep for more than 2 hours.
A strong headache is felt immediately, and lasts for hours. There have been times when my heart felt like it was going to burst, having been startled as such.
The pulse to the head sometimes reverberates through the wall and my bed’s headboard. I distinctly feel as though I have been hit on the top of my skull. At other times, it feels as though the pulse has come through the air, striking the side of my skull.
This is not a sleep disorder, for it does not occur regularly. At times, my sleep is disturbed in this manner 3 or 4 days in a row. At other times, there is no disturbance for up to a week. But they never let me go more than a week without such interruptions to my sleep.
Neither is it sleep apnea, as I do not awaken gasping for breath. The pounding headaches, sudden release of adrenaline, and heart palpitations I experience are caused by external impacts of sound waves or air bursts.
Sonic Weapons
How these pulses are produced is not easy to identify. As Wikipedia explains:
“Once the story became public, various U.S. government representatives attributed the incidents to attacks by unidentified foreign actors, and various U.S. officials blamed the reported symptoms on a variety of unidentified and unknown technologies, including ultrasound and microwave weapons.”
Sonic weapons have been in use for many years by militaries, and by police in crowd control. As Wikipedia explains (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sonic\_weapon):
“Some sonic weapons make a focused beam of sound or of ultrasound; others produce an area field of sound. As of 2023 military and police forces make some limited use of sonic weapons.”
(Do not believe the 2023 timeline. The Canadian military has been using these weapons since the early 2000’s at the latest.)
Wikipedia continues:
“Extremely high-power sound waves can disrupt or destroy the eardrums of a target and cause severe pain or disorientation. This is usually sufficient to incapacitate a person. Less powerful sound waves can cause humans to experience nausea or discomfort.”
The users of these technologies must also be using thermal detection equipment to monitor the target’s sleep. As I mentioned, I most often feel these blows the moment I am falling asleep. Body temperature drops when we sleep, and brain activity slows. Heat-detection equipment is likely being used to identify the point at which the target is falling asleep.
Why they prefer to strike at the start of someone’s sleep as opposed to the middle of their sleep, I do not know. Perhaps their intent is to deprive the body of early sleep, limiting the amount of deep sleep available to the person before their alarm rings in the morning.
Ordinary Hammers
Not all such “torments” (as I call them) are caused by high-tech equipment. I have heard and felt distinct hammer strikes running along the 2x4 beams inside my walls. These strikes can be a single hard strike, or several strikes in a row. It is definitely caused by a person with a hammer because the intervals between strikes are equidistant in time; that is, the time spacing between strikes is not random and does not change from strike to strike, but is constant between strikes, exactly as when someone is hammering. And no, it is not someone hanging pictures at 1:30 am, multiple times a week, for years.
On one occasion, when I was standing at my kitchen sink, I felt the floor-board directly under my feet pulse so sharply it felt like a brick had struck the soles of my feet. In this case, my military neighbour likely used a hammer to strike the floorboard on his side of the wall. It is the only plausible explanation.
Surveillance
This leads to surveillance of one’s activities at home. I have plenty of proofs of that. They seem insignificant on an individual basis. But when you put them all together, they present a clear picture of home surveillance.
My laptop computer’s lid cracked one night, at the bottom left corner of the screen. The next day at work, I heard my military supervisor relate to another co-worker that the night before, his laptop computer’s lid cracked at the bottom left corner. I swear to the Lord in Heaven, I am being truthful.
I tested my suspicion of being surveilled. At home one night, I blurted out-loud, “VW Passat. What an ugly sounding word, ‘Passat’”, I said. A few days later, my military colleagues at work started playing a card game at lunch, invented by one of them. The name he gave his game was “Passat”, and when he spoke it, he looked at me for a reaction. If you ever contact the Halifax military base, ask for the Claims Department and ask them if they are still playing Passat.
On another occasion, at a time when I frequented the gym every second day for a few years, I suspected my van had been fitted with a listening device. I suspected so because a number of things I had spoken with people about on my phone while in my van (nothing illegal) were repeated by people at the gym in conversations among themselves. Too many times, parts of other people's conversations matched parts of conversations I had had with others while I was in my van.
I already knew my phone was being tapped, but I also suspected my van was bugged. So one evening while driving in my van, I blurted out-loud a number of things I said I hated. "I hate (this or that)"; "I hate it when...". One of them was, "I hate when people chew gum with their mouths open." I then vocalized an exaggerated gnawing sound, "Gnaw. Gnaw. Gnaw."
The very next time I went to the gym, 2 days later, while I was at an exercise, a fellow sat at an exercise directly behind me. And sure enough, he started chewing with his mouth open, vocalizing that gnawing sound, "Gnaw. Gnaw. Gnaw." I didn't look behind at him, because I knew what was going on, and I wanted to avoid playing into his hand. So he repeated himself again and again until I was done and moved to a different station. Now, honestly, who chews gum at the gym? You can't. Or you run the risk of choking for the heavy breathing, not to mention when laying down on benches. And with precisely the same exaggerated vocalized gnawing sound I had made in my van just 2 days prior.
Their whole intent is to let you know you are being surveilled. They want you to know, as both a warning and a provocation. They want you to say something, to launch accusations, which they would readily deny, making you look paranoid. If you react too strongly, they could even have you diagnosed with some kind of disorder, and put you on medication, which further plays into their hand. (More regarding medications in the last section of this post.)
This is why, as I mentioned in my previous post, they would park their cars shining their high beams on me as I walked past them during my morning walk. And why on some occasions, a group of 3 or 4 would exit their cars and stand on my path just as I approached, forcing me to go around them. They would then remain standing on the path until my return trip through, and after I had passed by the second time, then would then return to their cars - making it absolutely clear I was their interest.
Their intent is not only to make me aware, but also to present themselves in close proximity to me, within easy reach, in the hope I would confront them, resulting in an altercation that could land me in a lot of hot water - 4 witnesses against me, all pleading innocence.
Again, it is all designed to make you look bad, and to warrant some kind of legal measure against you - preferably a medical diagnosis, discrediting you in everything you say about them. If they can't refute your claims, their only remaining option is to discredit you. That's what all of these tricks are designed to accomplish. Who would believe anything you say, once you have been diagnosed with a disorder?
There are plenty more examples. But who would really believe them? I’ll save them for the future.
Home Invasion
Both during and after my military service, I have had my apartments entered without any signs of break-ins. How? Lock-picking and duplicate keys. Indications? Missing objects; ie: money, phone adaptor, etc. Nothing major. Just something to make us understand we are being watched, and to make us understand what they can do.
But it is always something small, something for which you would be ridiculed for divulging.
Two more examples: I found my razor, which I always lay-down razor-end to the wall, turned around, razor-end toward me. Also, in one of my house slippers I found a small shoe sticker on the up-side of the heel. I had those slipper for years, and never had any shoe stickers on them. Yet there it was, clearly visible on the top surface of my slipper, not the bottom. Could I have stepped on a shoe sticker when barefoot in my apartment, only to have the sticker transfer itself to my slipper when I wore it? How many shoe stickers do you have laying around your apartment that you can accidentally step onto?
If I had stepped onto a sticker in my apartment and had it stick to my heel, that means the sticky side was up against my skin. This means the sticker would have had to flip upside down such that the sticky side would then be down, allowing the sticker to stick to the slipper. Do you really think that happened? That sticker was not there when I left my apartment, but it was there when I returned. And it was the wrong sticker, wrong brand, wrong size.
Again, what is their intent? To make someone look ridiculous so no one will believe them should they speak of other more sensitive things.
Staged Incidents
The above incidents clearly point to coordinated and staged events (at my work, my home, on my walks, etc). This is so frequently met with incredulity. "But that would require coordination on the part of so many people," the public dismisses. "They wouldn't do that."
Oh yes they would, and they have, as explained in https://fightgangstalking.com/. Note the documented cases involving the Canadian Security Intelligence Service (CSIS, Canada's equivalent to the US' CIA) and the Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP, Canada's national police force) in the second quote, which were reported in national newspapers.
From https://fightgangstalking.com/:
“Disruption operations often involve tactics which are illegal, but difficult to prove. These tactics include – but are not limited to – overt surveillance (stalking), slander, blacklisting, “mobbing” (intense, organized harassment in the workplace), “black bag jobs” [home invasions], abusive phone calls, computer hacking, framing, threats, blackmail, vandalism, “street theater” (staged physical and verbal interactions with minions of the people who orchestrate the stalking), harassment by noises, and other forms of bullying. Many of these tactics were used by the FBI during its illegal COINTELPRO operations, as documented by stolen official documents and subsequent Congressional investigations.
"Although the general public is mostly unfamiliar with the practice, references to “disruption” operations – described as such – do occasionally appear in the news media, even though that fact would apparently be news to the editors of The New York Times. In May 2006, for example, an article in The Globe and Mail, a Canadian national newspaper, reported that the Canadian Security Intelligence Service (CSIS) and the Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP) used “Diffuse and Disrupt” tactics against suspects for whom they lacked sufficient evidence to prosecute. A criminal defense attorney stated that many of her clients complained of harassment by authorities, although they were never arrested."
She can add me to that list too.
For the Benefit of Others
The experiences I have recounted here seem so trivial, so insignificant, they make you look ridiculous if you talk about them. But if we don’t talk about such things, no one will ever know about them. Other people have experienced the same, and are forced to endure such torments in silence. They need encouragement to talk about their own experiences, and so I write about mine in the hope they will talk about theirs, even if I do look ridiculous. The perpetrators are more ridiculous for doing them.
I remember a military colleague being hauled away by military police one morning, as she was struggling and having a violent fit. A fellow on her floor told me she was throwing chairs at her walls screaming, “Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!”. When he mentioned that, I knew exactly what they had done to her. She was considered unruly, and was being watched intently. They wanted her out, and that is how they accomplished it. Through wall tapping and sleep deprivation, they push you to the breaking point. And when you finally lose control and do something rash, they pounce on you, and you’re out. Now she has a criminal record, considered a criminal when in reality she was a victim. Welcome to the Canadian military, and other militaries besides, I am sure.
There are dozens upon dozens of experiences I could present. But who will really read them? Worse still, who will really believe them? I overheard my military supervisor in Halifax whisper to another, “Do you think he knows?”, after I had mentioned one of the many “coincidences” I experienced, but with a tone of my being aware it was not a mere coincidence. As I turned my face to my computer screen, I whispered under my breath, but still loud enough for him to hear, “Yes, (rank) (name), I know.” A few minutes later, as he walked past my desk, he leaned in by my ear and whispered, “We’re just trying to help you.” I should have pressed him for answers right then and there, but you just don’t know how much trouble you can get into when making such accusations in the military. So I let it go. But I will never forget.
Should anyone reading this ever decide to launch some kind of inquiry, I can mention names of over 100 people to contact, including military personnel, family members, neighbours, building managers, and others who have been contacted by military personnel with false narratives about me. They flash their ID’s and other credentials, and people believe anything they say. They turn family, friends, co-workers and neighbours against you, even recruiting their participation. Your acquaintances not only participate, but actually feel justified and emboldened playing tricks on you. It isn't their fault, though; they have been misled. I would reference them solely for corroboration.
As a final thought, here are explanations of two military programs in which certain persons (sometimes military, sometimes civilian) are kept under constant surveillance, and are in some cases subjected to conditioning in an attempt to turn them into what is called a “sleeper agent”. Almost all of the tactics presented below have been experience by me, including constant surveillance (ie: my previous post here regarding being harassed on my morning walks) and sleep deprivation (as per the top portion of this post, which other military members in Cuba and elsewhere around the world have also experienced).
Pentagon’s Signature Reduction Program
See Newsweek’s article: https://www.newsweek.com/exclusive-inside-militarys-secret-undercover-army-1591881
Some excerpts from that Newsweek article, plus more background information on the Pentagon’s Signature Reduction Program, can be found here: https://fightgangstalking.com/
“The largest undercover force the world has ever known is the one created by the Pentagon over the past decade. Some 60,000 people now belong to this secret army, many working under masked identities and in low profile, all part of a broad program called “signature reduction.” The force, more than ten times the size of the clandestine elements of the CIA, carries out domestic and foreign assignments, both in military uniforms and under civilian cover, in real life and online, sometimes hiding in private businesses and consultancies, some of them household name companies.
“…a little-known sector of the American military, but also a completely unregulated practice. No one knows the program’s total size, and the explosion of signature reduction has never been examined for its impact on military policies and culture. Congress has never held a hearing on the subject. And yet the military developing this gigantic clandestine force challenges U.S. laws, the Geneva Conventions, the code of military conduct and basic accountability.
“…The signature reduction effort engages some 130 private companies to administer the new clandestine world. Dozens of little known and secret government organizations support the program, doling out classified contracts and overseeing publicly unacknowledged operations.
"Federal spy agencies are using Americans to spy on their fellow citizens – the same approach to governance famously employed by communist East Germany."
How to Develop a Hypnotic Sleeper Agent
By Dantalion Jones / Masters of Mind Control
The following “was” on the web, but has been removed. Surprise, surprise. But I saved its web files to my computer years ago, knowing that sooner or later it would be removed. I made a jpeg image of the web page as it once appeared, attached here.
Note that I have experienced almost all of the tactics described below, including the stalking I mentioned in my previous post here (regular walks in the park), the sleep deprivation noted at the top of this post, and the surveillance and intrusions described here as well.
Quoting the now-removed webpage: “How to Develop a Hypnotic Sleeper Agent” (from here to end of post):
Amid all the conspiracy theories one of the most feared is that there exist "sleeper agents" in our society who are programmed to come into service when they are triggered by a phone call or key word.
These alleged sleeper agents don't even know they are programmed to become saboteurs, soldiers, suicide bomber, etc because of the thoroughness of their programming. They are the feared "Manchurian Candidate" that the movies portray.
The question is "Are they real?"
If they are true sleeper agents there is no way of telling until they are activated. One can however theorize exactly how they are made.
Indoctrination
Using indoctrination a person can be made to embrace a religious or philosophical belief that would make becoming a sleeper agent possible.
This would be a person so committed to an ideal they would be willing to wait patiently as a member of society until they are called into action. These people would know their mission and consciously hold it secret while interacting with the rest of society.
Conditioning
Conditioning is a repetitive process where the desired responses are enforced and rewarded and unwanted responses are punished. This can be done consciously as part of training drill and it can be done subconsciously using hypnosis or drugs to create amnesia.
Hypnosis
It has been demonstrated that hypnosis can create "amnesia walls" in which the subject has no conscious memory of what happened in the hypnosis session. It has further been demonstrated that hypnosis can give post hypnotic instruction to be carried out automatically in the waking state without the subject knowing it or questioning the behavior.
What follows is conjecture and theory based on testimonials of people who were alleged to be sleeper agents and soldiers.
Continuous Supervisions
Continuous supervision doesn't mean that the subject is cut off completely from society. It means that they are constantly overseen and every aspect of their lives are managed (without their knowledge or consent) to support their hypnotic programming.
This would include:
• Repeated reinforcement of all hypnotic conditioning.
• Handlers. Handlers are people who help maintain the subjects environment to maintain all the programming. They can play the role of family, friends, lovers, psychologists, coaches or any roll the subject perceives as supportive. The truth is the handlers are their to support the successful fulfillment of the programming and not the subject as a person.
• Minimal sleep so that the mind/brain does not process all the sleeper conditioning during sleep.
• Creating constant environmental challenges like unemployment or poverty. This gives the subject something other than their programming to focus on.
• Frequent hospitalization. This gives overt opportunity to sedate the subject for conditioning. If the subject has a history of hospitalizations for mental disturbances all the better. No one will take them seriously.
Joseph Cafariello
PS... Today is the second day after this post (February 12, 2024). A garbage truck just slammed into my parked car.
PPS... I finish writing this post because I am satisfied with its shape and content; not because of what happened to my car.
It is similar to when you are reaching for your coat, and someone tells you, "Take your coat." Since you have to take your coat, your brain tells you it's ok to obey them, and you comply. They just created an instance where they led you, and you followed them. And your brain accepted it.
It's a technique the military uses all the time. It trains you to accept instructions from that person or group. Done enough times, you become comfortable obeying them.
I just say, "I take my coat because I choose to, not because you tell me to." It's important to make that clear, to block the conditioning and affirm our self-governance; not just to them, but to ourselves as well. Now our brain realizes we took our coat by our own choice; we are still in command.
So too, I say regarding today's event. "Thanks for the warning, but I had already finished writing my post. I finished by my own choosing."
UPDATES 1 & 2: February 26 & March 07, 2024:
My apartment was once again entered while I was out. Either a key was used or the lock was picked. This may or may not have included assistance from building staff. Home invasions are included in the list of their techniques noted above, referred to as "black bag jobs".
All tenants on my floor received new fridges a couple of weeks ago. I removed the tape securing the bins inside my new fridge, and also removed all styrofoam pads from the corners of the glass shelves when I repositioned them.
The person(s) who have been invading my living space on a regular basis have struck again. As you can see in the photo below, the styrofoam pads on the corners of my fridge's shelves were restored when I was out of my apartment. I had removed all pads when I repositioned the shelves. Yet now they are back.
It is a tactic used to undermine our observational awareness in an attempt to make us second-guess and doubt ourselves. The aim is to cause people to feel less sure not only of the things we have done, but also feel less sure of the things others have done. They want us to question the accuracy of our observations and memory.
The idea is to train you to dismiss any anomalies you may observe as being your own misperception of things. Once they convince you not to trust your own judgement, they are free to do whatever they want to you, and you will simply accept it without questioning.
UPDATE 3: May 18, 2024:
Confrontations with individuals keep occurring, at times potentially violent. Following are just 3 such encounters as of late.
1 - Kick-boxer in the park:
As I parked my car in one of the parking lots in Vancouver's Stanley Park one night, another vehicle drove up behind me and parked several spots away. A tall man exited that vehicle, and walked hastily along the path I always walk, down some steps to the water's sea wall path. I took my time and followed my usual walk, also down the steps down to the sea wall. The man knew my routine, and was in a hurry to get ahead of me.
As I walked along the sea wall, I saw the same man sitting on a bench, playing a loud Persian-sounding religious sermon on some device I did not clearly see. As I walked past him, he called out to me to stop and chat. I ignored him and continued walking past him. He rose and started walking behind me.
I opened my umbrella, turned, and walked past him the other way, returning to the stairs back to the parking lot. He also turned and continued following me. I started running. He also started running. I ran up the steps, as did he.
Being taller than I am, his legs are longer than mine, and he quickly caught up to me on a grassy patch at the top of the steps. I turned to him and asked, "Why are you following me?" He did not reply, but stood profile to me, the same stance a kick-boxer uses when ready to kick someone. He was tall, thin, and in excellent physical shape as you would see in a kick-boxer.
He did not speak at all, but was just waiting for me to make a move. I turned, entered my vehicle and left. The encounter continued with a chase through the park in our cars. Yes, that is correct. He chased me out of the park in his car.
2 - Told to keep quiet:
The perpetrators need to operate with as little detection as possible, and they repeatedly warn their subjects to keep their mouths shut about their experiences.
On another of my recent nightly walks, a man stood on the sidewalk ahead of me about half a block away, looked at me, and shouted into the sky at nobody, giving the appearance of being a homeless person shouting for no reason. He then started walking in my direction. I continued walking straight. As he passed me, he leaned into my face and shouted into my ear, "Shut the f_ck up!" I continued walking in my direction, and he resumed walking in his.
The idea is to make it seem as though he is just a deranged man wandering the streets at night, shouting at nothing, so that when he shouts at me, any observer would simply dismiss his actions. But in reality, he was sent to send me a message to stop publishing posts like this, which I had done many times on many sites, and continue to. They don't like it when we reveal their methods. But the truth must be known.
3 - You'll be sorry:
On another occasion, while returning from grocery shopping one afternoon, I walked past a man sitting by a storefront. He was clean-cut, wearing clean clothes, without any carts or wagons or any belongings of any kind. As I passed him, he asked me for some spare change. I replied, "I'm sorry," and continued walking past. He replied, "You will be."
There are numerous other experiences, like two seemingly unassociated men standing on the sea wall about 100 meters away from each other, each of them spitting just as I walked past each one.
There are too many experiences to mention. Looking at each experience individually, one would easily dismiss them as being unrelated and simply coincidental. But put them all together and a picture starts to form, like putting together the pieces of a puzzle.
As I hand you each piece of the puzzle one by one, you dismiss each piece, saying, "This could be anything." And you discard it. You keep discarding each piece as I hand it to you. By the end of it, you look down at the table and say, "You have nothing." That's because you looked at each piece as a separate item and threw it away. But if you leave the pieces on the table as I hand them to you and do not hastily discard them, you will see they form a clear picture when put all together.
We must look at all these events as a whole. Individually, each one could be anything. But when all of these experiences are put together and considered as a whole, they form an undeniable picture. Do not be quick to dismiss each piece. Leave the pieces on the table and look at the whole. The picture I present is sound. Remember, I have all the pieces; you do not. I see the picture more clearly than you do.
https://preview.redd.it/we31ymcsm91d1.jpg?width=966&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=3d56ac3dd3558a60d477ba9315104d1b66b139f8

I am following YouTube tutorials for replacing my lowbeam H7 headlamps in my 2020 VW golf (mk7).
However, I am having tons of trouble pulling out the bulbs - in the videos it looks very easy. I am thinking that mine might have some kind of locking mechanism?
The design seems a little different - instead of the bulb connected to a black plastic piece that is removable, my headlamps are connected with wires and they connect to the same black plastic but with another metal piece on top. I am attaching photos
Can anyone help? All the tutorials say you just pull, but that is definitely not working. Thanks

Going to a wedding with the dress code of “formal or black tie, floor length dresses are appropriate”. The wedding will be outside on grass, cocktail hour on a patio/grass and reception indoors. The venue is a semi-private golf course.
Dress is ~3” off the ground in heels, similar to 2nd image. Pairing with gold shoes, gold jewelry, a navy clutch and a matching pink/purple sheer organza wrap.
I went to a very similar BTO wedding in the same area and similar venue a few years ago in full black tie and was severely overdressed, which makes me think this dress, even though not floor skimming, is ok?
Would love any input/thoughts!

Hello everybody,
I'm experiencing some difficulties with my RNA dot blots (I'm using a variety of primary antibodies, such as J2, K1, J5, 3159, and S9.6 to look for various contaminants in our house-made RNA). I cannot for the life of me get a blot without a weird noisy background just in the middle and edges of the membrane (see picture below). This noise makes it hard to analyze and just isn't pretty.
I know some people use Falcon tubes to incubate their membranes, but I use little Tupperware boxes meant for storing 4x6 photos (like these) and put them on a rocker for incubations. Could that be the reason?
I also don't put the membrane in a plastic bag when imaging, I just set it on the imager tray (and dry off excess developing solution), perhaps that's why?
I've seen some resources that specify incubating the membrane face up or face down for different steps, does that really matter?
Any tips would be greatly appreciated, I can't find a lot of resources online and everyone else seems to be getting beautiful dot blots without the noise I'm getting!
Here's my protocol:

1. Dilute samples to a range of desired concentrations.
2. Denature RNA at >80\C for 5 min. Place on ice.*
3. Place membrane (Cytiva Whatman™ Nytran™ SuperCharge Membranes, Fisher Scientific #10416230) on a blotting paper. Spot 2uL of sample onto the membrane using the 96-well insert from a pipette tip box as a guide. Be careful not to touch the membrane with the pipette tip.
4. Allow the membrane to air-dry.
5. Place the membrane in blocking buffer (TBS, 1% BSA) for 1 hour, shaking gently.
6. Place the membrane in a solution of blocking buffer with the primary antibody (diluted according to manufacturer's instructions). Incubate overnight at 4\C, shaking gently.*
7. Wash the membrane in washing buffer (TBS, 1% BSA, 0.1% Tween-20) for 10 minutes, shaking gently.
8. Repeat Step 8 four more times, for five washes total.
9. Place the membrane in a solution of blocking buffer with the secondary antibody (diluted according to manufacturer's instructions). Incubate for 1 hour, shaking gently.
10. Wash the membrane in washing buffer for 10 minutes, shaking gently.
11. Repeat Step 11 four more times, for five washes total.
12. Prepare substrate working solution: mix equal parts of Substrate and Stable Peroxide components (SuperSignal™ West Pico PLUS Chemiluminescent Substrate, ThermoFisher #34577). Make enough to completely wet the membrane (approximately 0.1mL/cm2).
13. Incubate the membrane with the substrate working solution for 5 minutes.
14. Remove blot from working solution and place it on the imaging tray. Use a paper towel or blotting paper to remove excess liquid. Image.

Dot blot with noisy background

https://www.culina-vetus.de/2024/05/18/in-praise-of-the-pig/
The König vom Odenwald is finished, but I will still need to do some work on the final edit and think about what to do with it. Meanwhile, here is another poem in praise of the pig:
https://preview.redd.it/jmuk8m0ip81d1.jpg?width=800&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=7ac485fda4996e589c1fb007c5c6e225eec5fab3
IX This is a poem about the pig
And its usefulness
And it was made skilfully
By the kunig vom Otenwalde
As I have nothing new at this time
Many people say: “Very well,
We should have something new,
Kunig, make us a new poem!”
If I have to write something new
I will write about the pig.
Their squealing should gladly be tolerated
Sour liver (lebersoln) come from them
Filled and roasted
Happy are those who have them!
Boiled and smoked
They lose none of their virtue.
Now I should look at
Sausages in four manners
Made with brain and with blood
And also hot liver sausages
And sausages of sheer meat (brod = brät)
Those last long
Roasts by the embers
Give you joy
Bread catching dripping (betreift sniten) underneath
It is no wonder
Head, ears, tail, feet
And one part it digs with (the snout)
And the four pig legs
In vinegar and galantine
Tongue, spleen, and stomach
Of this, I, the kunig, must say
Of this come side dishes
Now hark what I say!
You also use the bladder well
Wherever it is useful.
You have bacon with peas
In your chickens and on a spit
And where there are boiled chickens
You must have bacon and parsley with them.
Further, I always serve
Fried lardons (grieben) in mus and on porridge
Pancakes and filled fritters (krepfelin)
All come from the pig
Dumplings from the rump (buzl)
Appear to be so small
But they are noble (like) venison (wiltbreht).
I will tell you more about the pig:
Shoulders and hams
Nourish nursemaids and women in childbed
Fat cabbage (kruot) come from the pig
Bride and bridegroom eat of that
This is common custom.
All foods are improved with it
Adding a little bacon to fish
I never forget to do this
Use your teeth if you can
Women and men both!
To use the large bellies and lard
You must have salt
You use it to smear on many things
Wagon sides (leitern) so they become smooth
Books, saddles, bucklers,
are protected steadily (by greasing)
And smiths always wear
A (pig)skin apron over their skin
Straps on the helm
Are carried on the field
Points and straps
Are inexpensively bought
The strop for the razor
I have heard and seen this
Is needed to swipe over often
When you wish to shave beards.
You also find, made of the skin
Belts, broad and narrow
I also tell you of the bristles
That they are used to brush hair
And every cobbler
Cannot be without bristles
Weavers and painters, too
Have need of bristles
And also every goldsmith
Works with them.
With bristles you make
Glasses clean, if you know how
And the noble bristles are
Put into the holy water sprinkler
Which is used in good intent
So God may have us in his protection.
The kunig has made this poem
Whoever can write a better one should do so.
This poem completes the series praising domestic animals, following the cow, goose, chicken, and sheep. While it mentions technical applications for pig products, its main focus lies on food. Pigs were kept primarily for eating.
The defense of the pig whose squealing seems to have annoyed people begins with a mention of lebersoln. I am not fully sure what these are, but I suspect it is a reference to the frequently attested roasted mashed liver wrapped in a caul. That certainly seems to have been a popular and exclusive dish. Sausages, made with brain, liver, blood, or sheer meat, are specifically addressed as four main types. This seems to be a mental classification that was current. We have surviving recipes for blood sausages, liver sausages, and the high-status bratwurst made from muscle meat. Some surviving recipes involving brain, too, may describe sausages, but I am less confident in identifying those. The poem does not mention lung sausages, a type we have several surviving recipes for. That may be owed to local custom, personal dislike, lack of status, or any other reason you care to imagine. Certainly people ate every part of the pig, and sausage making was a creative discipline.
Next, the poem mentions roast pork and the joy of eating the drippings with bread – betreift sniten possibly placed under the roast during cooking, though in my opinion more likely spread on toasted slices or loaves afterwards. I can attest to the fact that this is delicious. The feet, snout, ears and tail are cooked in a galantine. This is harder to interpret than it seems because the various words used to describe jelly today could refer to gelatin, but also to thickened sauces at the time. Clearly, though, these fiddly meat bits were cooked, taken apart, and served in an accressible and highly seasoned form.
The next section addresses bacon (speck), a useful ingredient in all kinds of dishes. This could refer to anything from mostly meaty salt-cured pork belly to mostly fat, white Rückenspeck. Interpreting individual recipes can be fraught that way, but it is likely cooks chose what they found served best. One especially interesting note is the poet’s injunction that boiled chicken must always be served with bacon and parsley (here likely meaning the root boiled with the meat). There may be the germ of a recipe in this line. Pig fat is also used as a cooking medium, which provides the connection to pancakes and the broad class of krepfelin fritters. The word usually means a filled fritter like a dumpling, but is often used for other kinds of fritter as well. The lardons (grieben) produced when rendering lard were another way of adding meaty richness to non-meat dishes, served with porridges and vegetable purees.
Two social practices are mentioned as asides: Pork shoulders and ham, probably dry-salted and smoked, are served to nursing mothers and fat kraut, most likely a cabbage dish, at weddings. We have other mentions of this and it seems to have been a custom early on. Addiong bacon to fish while culinarily plausible seems a daring suggestion given that fish was mainly eaten during Lent. It would not be a problem on meat days, obviously, so such recipes likely existed, but to find it stated as common practice in a clerical environment is a slight surprise.
What follows is a list of technical applications: Pigskin used in aprons razor, strops, helmet straps, and all kinds of other roles, pig fat for greasing leather, and bristles for sewing, in brushes, and in holy water sprinklers, the noblest avocation a humble pig could aspire to. Interestingly, we also learn that drinking glasses, still a luxury item, were kept clean using brushes. This kind of detail makes reading the König’s poems so rewarding.
Der König vom Odenwald (literally king of the Odenwald, a mountain chain in southern Germany) is an otherwise unknown poet whose work is tentatively dated to the 1340s. His title may refer to a senior rank among musicians or entertainers, a Spielmannskönig, but that is speculative. Many of his poems are humorous and deal with aspects of everyday life which makes them valuable sources to us today.
The identity of this poet has been subject to much speculation. He is clearly associated with the episcopal court at Würzburg and likely specifically with Michael de Leone (c. 1300-1355), a lawyer and scholar. Most of his work is known only through the Hausbuch of the same Michael de Leone, a collection of verse and practical prose that also includes the first known instance of the Buoch von guoter Spise, a recipe collection. This and the evident relish with which he describes food have led scholars to consider him a professional cook and the author of the Buoch von Guoter Spise, but that is unlikely. Going by the content of his poetry, the author is clearly familiar with the lives of the lower nobility and even his image of poverty is genteel. This need not mean he belonged to this class, but he clearly moved in these circles to some degree. Michael de Leone, a secular cleric and canon on the Würzburg chapter, was of that class and may have been a patron of the poet. Reinhardt Olt whose edition I am basing my translation on assumes that the author was a fellow canon, Johann II von Erbach.
I only translate the poems that deal with aspects of food or related everyday life here. There are several others which are less interesting as sources. They can be found in the newest extant edition by Reinhard Olt, König vom Odenwald; Gedichte, Carl Winter Verlag, Heidelberg 1988.

https://preview.redd.it/m07tmkxgi81d1.jpg?width=2048&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=a069dd209bca819edad29814e0bbd2b76eaa50db

As Reddit doesn't allow posts to exceed 40,000 characters, Eastwood's edition had to be split into two parts because his whole career cannot be ignored. The second part will be posted tomorrow.

Here's a new edition of "Directors at the Box Office", which seeks to explore the directors' trajectory at the box office and analyze their hits and bombs. I already talked about a few, and as I promised, it's Clint Eastwood's turn.
Eastwood was a troublemaker at school, and he had a bunch of odd jobs such as lifeguard, paper carrier, grocery clerk, forest firefighter, and golf caddy. In 1951, he was drafted into the United States Army during the Korean War and was discharged two years later. Through this, he got into contact with a Hollywood representative, who got him into acting classes and started his acting career. He got his start by starring in the hit show Rawhide, but he said he was exhausted by the experience. This caught the attention of some film producers and he decided to act in films directed by the then-unknown Sergio Leone. His career was on the rise, and then he got the chance to make his directorial debut.
From a box office perspective, how reliable was he to deliver a box office hit?
That's the point of this post. To analyze his career.

It should be noted that as he started his career in the 1970s, some of the domestic grosses here will be adjusted by inflation. The table with his highest grossing films, however, will be left in its unadjusted form, as the worldwide grosses are more difficult to adjust.

Play Misty for Me (1971)

"The scream you hear may be your own!"
His directorial debut. It stars Eastwood, Jessica Walter and Donna Mills, and follows a radio disc jockey being stalked by an obsessed female fan.
Before his colleague Irving Leonard died, he and Eastwood had discussed the idea of producing a film that was to give Eastwood the artistic control he desired, and his debut as a director. Eastwood said he was ready, "I stored away all the mistakes I made and saved up all the good things I learned, and now I know enough to control my own projects and get what I want out of actors."
The film was a huge success for Eastwood, and it also received positive reviews. So far, his directorial career was off to a great start.

• Budget: $950,000.
  
• Domestic gross: $10,600,000. ($81.7 million adjusted)
  
• Worldwide gross: $10,600,000.
  

High Plains Drifter (1973)

"They'd never forget the day he drifted into town."
His second film. The film stars Eastwood, Verna Bloom and Mariana Hill, and follows a mysterious stranger who metes out justice in a corrupt frontier mining town.
Eastwood reportedly liked the offbeat quality of the film's original nine-page proposal and approached Universal with the idea of directing it, which would make it his first directed Western. The screenplay was inspired by the real-life murder of Kitty Genovese in Queens in 1964, which eyewitnesses reportedly stood by and watched. Holes in the plot were filled in with black humor and allegory, influenced by Sergio Leone.
It was well received, and the film even surpassed Play Misty for Me at the box office. Eastwood was just going up.

• Budget: $5,500,000.
  
• Domestic gross: $15,700,000. ($110.4 million adjusted)
  
• Worldwide gross: $15,700,000.
  

Breezy (1973)

"Her name is Breezy."
His third film. It stars William Holden and Kay Lenz, and follows the relationship between a middle-aged real estate agent and a young hitchhiker.
This was his first directed film without starring on it. And his lack of presence certainly hurt the film; it received mixed reviews and flopped at the box office.

• Budget: $750,000.
  
• Domestic gross: $200,000. ($1.4 million adjusted)
  
• Worldwide gross: $217,753.
  

The Eiger Sanction (1975)

"His lifeline, held by the assassin he hunted."
His fourth film. Based on the novel by Trevanian, the film stars Eastwood, George Kennedy, Vonetta McGee, and Jack Cassidy. It follows Jonathan Hemlock, an art history professor, mountain climber, and former assassin once employed by a secret government agency, who is blackmailed into returning to his deadly profession for one last mission.
The film received mixed reactions for its writing, and it wasn't a box office success either.

• Budget: $9,000,000.
  
• Domestic gross: $14,200,000. ($82.4 million adjusted)
  
• Worldwide gross: $14,200,000.
  

The Outlaw Josey Wales (1976)

"An army of one."
His fifth film. Based on the novel Gone to Texas by Forrest Carter, it stars Eastwood, Chief Dan George, Sondra Locke, Bill McKinney and John Vernon. The film tells the story of Josey Wales, a Missouri farmer whose family is murdered by Union militia during the Civil War. Driven to revenge, Wales joins a Confederate guerrilla band and makes a name for himself as a feared gunfighter. After the war, all the fighters in Wales' group except for him surrender to Union soldiers, but the Confederates end up being massacred. Wales becomes an outlaw and is pursued by bounty hunters and Union soldiers as he tries to make a new life for himself.
Eastwood was fascinated by the novel and he bought the film rights, hoping to star on the film. He got Philip Kaufman involved as screenwriter and possible director, but left after disagreeing with Eastwood in the material adapted to the screen. Kaufman insisted on filming with a meticulous attention to detail, which caused disagreements with Eastwood, not to mention the attraction the two shared towards Locke and apparent jealousy on Kaufman's part in regard to their emerging relationship. This caused Eastwood to take over as the director. Kaufman's firing angered the DGA, as he did most of the pre-production, and sanctioning a $60,000 fine. This resulted in the Director's Guild passing a new rule, known as "the Eastwood Rule", which prohibits an actor or producer from firing the director and then personally taking on the director's role.
The film received critical acclaim, and in subsequent years, is ranked among Eastwood's greatest films. It was also a huge success at the box office, doubling his previous highest grossing film. It was also one of the few Western films to receive critical and commercial success in the 1970s at a time when the Western was thought to be dying as a major genre in Hollywood.

• Budget: $3,700,000.
  
• Domestic gross: $31,800,000. ($174.5 million adjusted)
  
• Worldwide gross: $31,800,000.
  

The Gauntlet (1977)

"The man in the middle of..."
His sixth film. It stars Eastwood, Sondra Locke, Pat Hingle, William Prince, Bill McKinney, and Mara Corday. It follows a down-and-out cop who falls in love with a prostitute, to whom he is assigned to escort from Las Vegas to Phoenix for her to testify against the mob.
While it received mixed reviews, it became another box office success for Eastwood, becoming his now highest grossing film.

• Budget: $5,500,000.
  
• Domestic gross: $35,400,000. ($182.4 million adjusted)
  
• Worldwide gross: $35,400,000.
  

Bronco Billy (1980)

"The most outrageous of 'em all."
His seventh film. The film stars Eastwood and Sondra Locke, and focuses on the financially-struggling owner of a traditional Wild West show and his new assistant.
It became another critical and commercial success for Eastwood, who referred to the film as one of his most affable shoots of his career.

• Budget: $6,500,000.
  
• Domestic gross: $24,265,659. ($91.9 million adjusted)
  
• Worldwide gross: $24,265,659.
  

Firefox (1982)

"The most devastating killing machine ever built... his job... steal it!"
His eighth film. Based on the novel by Craig Thomas, it stars Eastwood, Freddie Jones and David Huffman. The Soviets have developed a revolutionary new jet fighter, called "Firefox". Naturally, the British are worried that the jet will be used as a first-strike weapon, as rumors say that the jet is undetectable on radar. They send ex-Vietnam War pilot Mitchell Gant on a covert mission into the Soviet Union to steal the Firefox.
The film received mixed reviews, but it earned almost $47 million, becoming Eastwood's highest grossing title as director.

• Budget: $21,000,000.
  
• Domestic gross: $46,708,276. ($151.1 million adjusted)
  
• Worldwide gross: $46,708,276.
  

Honkytonk Man (1982)

"The boy is on his way to becoming a man. The man is on his way to becoming a legend."
His ninth film. It's based on the novel by Clancy Carlile, and it stars Eastwood and his son Kyle. It follows Red Stovall, a country music singer and composer. With his nephew Whit by his side, he travels to Nashville to perform at the Grand Ole Opry in the backdrop of the Great Depression.
While the film received acclaim, it earned just $4.4 million, becoming his second worst performer.

• Budget: $2,000,000.
  
• Domestic gross: $4,484,991. ($14.5 million adjusted)
  
• Worldwide gross: $4,484,991.
  

Sudden Impact (1983)

"Dirty Harry is at it again."
His tenth film. The fourth installment in the Dirty Harry series, directed, it stars Eastwood and Sondra Locke. The film tells the story of a gang rape victim who decides to seek revenge on her rapists 10 years after the attack by killing them one by one. Inspector Harry Callahan, famous for his unconventional and often brutal crime-fighting tactics, is tasked with tracking down the serial killer.
The film received mixed reviews from critics, but it earned over $150 million worldwide, Eastwood's first film to pass that milestone. It's also very popular for including the iconic catchphrase, "Go ahead, make my day."

• Budget: $22,000,000.
  
• Domestic gross: $67,642,693. ($212.1 million adjusted)
  
• Worldwide gross: $150,642,693.
  

Pale Rider (1985)

"...And Hell followed with him."
His 11th film. It stars Eastwood, Michael Moriarty and Carrie Snodgress. A couple and their daughter, along with a few others, are driven out of Lahood, California, by goons working for a mining baron. However, a stranger enters their life to assist them in their fight.
There was no stopping Eastwood: another critical and commercial success.

• Budget: $6,900,000.
  
• Domestic gross: $41,410,568. ($120.2 million adjusted)
  
• Worldwide gross: $41,410,568.
  

Heartbreak Ridge (1986)

"The scars run deep."
His 12th film. It stars Eastwood, Marsha Mason, Everett McGill, and Mario Van Peebles. The story centers on a U.S. Marine nearing retirement who gets a platoon of undisciplined Marines into shape and leads them during the American invasion of Grenada in 1983.
The film was inspired by an account of American paratroopers of the 82nd Airborne Division using a pay telephone and a credit card to call in fire support during the invasion of Grenada, and fashioned a script of a Korean War veteran career Army non-commissioned officer passing on his values to a new generation of soldiers. Eastwood was interested in the script and asked his producer, Fritz Manes, to contact the US Army with a view of filming the movie at Fort Bragg. However, the Army read the script and refused to participate, due to Highway being portrayed as a hard drinker, divorced from his wife, and using unapproved motivational methods to his troops, an image the Army did not want.
It received mixed reviews, with some deeming the film as "imperialist propaganda". But it was still another box office success.

• Budget: $15,000,000.
  
• Domestic gross: $42,724,017. ($121.7 million adjusted)
  
• Worldwide gross: $121,700,000.
  

Bird (1988)

"There are no second acts in American lives."
His 13th film. The film stars Forest Whitaker and Diane Venora. It is constructed as a montage of scenes from saxophonist Charlie Parker's life, from his childhood in Kansas City, through his early death at the age of 34.
Eastwood, a lifelong fan of jazz, had been fascinated by Parker ever since seeing him perform live in Oakland in 1946. He approached Chan Parker, Bird's common-law wife on whose memoirs the script was based, for input, and she lent Eastwood and arranger Lennie Niehaus a collection of recordings from her private collection Before Eastwood was involved, Richard Pryor was originally cast as Parker.
Despitive positive reviews, it performed poorly, earning just $2.2 million in North America.

• Budget: $14,000,000.
  
• Domestic gross: $2,181,286. ($5.7 million adjusted)
  
• Worldwide gross: $2,181,286.
  

White Hunter Black Heart (1990)

"An adventure in obsession."
His 14th film. Based on the novel by Peter Viertel, it stars Eastwood, Jeff Fahey, George Dzundza, Alun Armstrong and Marisa Berenson. It follows a famous movie director, John Wilson, who goes to Africa to make his next movie. He is an obstinate, contrary director who'd rather hunt elephants than take care of his crew or movie. He has become obsessed with one particular elephant and cares for nothing else.
Despite positive reviews, it made just $2.3 million domestically, not even 10% of the budget.

• Budget: $24,000,000.
  
• Domestic gross: $2,319,124. ($5.5 million adjusted)
  
• Worldwide gross: $2,319,124.
  

The Rookie (1990)

His 15th film. The film stars Eastwood, Charlie Sheen, Raul Julia, Sônia Braga, Lara Flynn Boyle, and Tom Skerritt. It follows a veteran police officer teamed up with a younger detective, whose intent is to take down a German crime lord in downtown Los Angeles, following months of investigation into an exotic car theft ring.
It received negative reviews for its acting and story, and it became another flop for Eastwood. That's three bombs in a row. Ouch.

• Budget: $30,000,000.
  
• Domestic gross: $21,633,874. ($51.6 million adjusted)
  
• Worldwide gross: $21,633,874.
  

Unforgiven (1992)

"Some legends will never be forgotten. Some wrongs can never be forgiven."
His 16th film. It stars Eastwood, Gene Hackman, Richard Harris and Morgan Freeman. It follows William Munny, a widower with two young kids, who was once a very vicious gunfighter who gave up everything after marriage. Now, a man named Schofield Kid brings him an offer that he cannot refuse, forcing him to come out of retirement for one last job.
David Webb Peoples wrote the script all the way back to 1976, and it was optioned by Francis Ford Coppola, but he lacked the funds needed to helm it. By Eastwood's own recollection, he was given the script in the "early 80s" although he did not immediately pursue it, because, according to him, "I thought I should do some other things first". Eastwood has long asserted that the film would be his last traditional Western, concerned that any future projects would simply rehash previous plotlines or imitate someone else's work. He dedicated the film to his close friends and mentors Sergio Leone and Don Siegel. Hackman initially refused to participate as his daughters were upset that he was starring in too many violent films, but he became fascinated by the script that he agreed.
It opened with $15 million and it legged all the way to $100 million after playing for almost one year, closing with $159 million worldwide, his now highest grossing film. The film received Eastwood's best reviews of his career, with many considering the film as his magnum opus as director. It received 9 Oscar nominations, and won four: Best Picture and Best Director for Eastwood, Best Supporting Actor for Hackman, and Best Film Editing. So Eastwood, on top of being a reliable box office draw, was now a 2-time Oscar winner.

• Budget: $14,400,000.
  
• Domestic gross: $101,167,799. ($225.2 million adjusted)
  
• Worldwide gross: $159,167,799.
  

A Perfect World (1993)

His 17th film. Kevin Costner, Eastwood and Laura Dern, and follows an escaped convict who takes a young boy hostage and attempts to escape on the road with the child, while being pursued by a Texas Ranger.
The film received critical acclaim, and has appeared as one of Eastwood's best films. The film disappointed in North America, but it earned up to $100 million overseas (Eastwood's first film to gross that much) and ended with $135 million worldwide.

• Budget: $30,000,000.
  
• Domestic gross: $31,130,999. ($67.2 million adjusted)
  
• Worldwide gross: $135,130,999.
  

The Bridges of Madison County (1995)

"The human heart has a way of making itself large again even after it's been broken into a million pieces."
His 18th film. Based on the novel by Robert James Waller, it stars Eastwood and Meryl Streep. The film is set in 1965, following a war bride, Francesca Johnson, who lives with her husband and two children on their Iowa farm. That year she meets National Geographic photojournalist, Robert Kincaid, who comes to Madison County, Iowa to photograph its historic covered bridges. With Francesca's family away for a short trip, the couple have an intense, four-day love affair.
It received more critical acclaim, and made over $180 million worldwide, becoming his highest grossing film. For her performance, Streep was nominated for an Oscar for Best Actress.

• Budget: $22,000,000.
  
• Domestic gross: $71,516,617. ($146.5 million adjusted)
  
• Worldwide gross: $182,016,617.
  

Absolute Power (1997)

His 19th film. Based on the novel by David Baldacci, it stars Eastwood, Gene Hackman, Ed Harris, Laura Linney, Judy Davis, Scott Glenn, Dennis Haysbert, and Richard Jenkins. It follows a master jewel thief who witnesses the killing of a woman by Secret Service agents.
It received mixed reviews, and disappointed at the box office.

• Budget: $50,000,000.
  
• Domestic gross: $50,068,310. ($97.4 million adjusted)
  
• Worldwide gross: $92,768,310.
  

Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil (1997)

"Welcome to Savannah, Georgia. A Ccty of hot nights and cold blooded murder."
His 20th film. Based on the book by John Berendt, it stars John Cusack and Kevin Spacey. It follows the story of antiques dealer Jim Williams, on trial for the killing of a male prostitute who was his lover. The multiple trials depicted in Berendt's book are combined into one trial for the film.
It received mediocre reviews, and flopped at the box office.

• Budget: $30,000,000.
  
• Domestic gross: $25,105,255. ($48.8 million adjusted)
  
• Worldwide gross: $25,105,255.
  

True Crime (1999)

His 21st film. Based on the novel by Andrew Klavan, it stars Eastwood, Isaiah Washington, Denis Leary, LisaGay Hamilton and James Woods. It follows a journalist covering the execution of a death row inmate, only to discover that the convict may actually be innocent.
This was another project that received mediocre reviews and flopped at the box office.

• Budget: $55,000,000.
  
• Domestic gross: $16,649,768. ($31.2 million adjusted)
  
• Worldwide gross: $16,649,768.
  

Space Cowboys (2000)

"Boys will be boys."
His 22nd film. It stars Eastwood, Tommy Lee Jones, Donald Sutherland, and James Garner as four aging former test pilots who are sent into space to repair an old Soviet satellite.
It received very positive reviews, and earned over $128 million worldwide.

• Budget: $60,000,000.
  
• Domestic gross: $90,464,773. ($164 million adjusted)
  
• Worldwide gross: $128,884,132.
  

Blood Work (2002)

"He's a heartbeat away from catching the killer."
His 23rd film. Based on the novel by Michael Connelly, it stars Eastwood, Jeff Daniels, Wanda De Jesús, and Anjelica Huston. It follows a retired FBI agent who recently had a heart transplant but still takes up the job to nab a killer.
It was another film with mediocre reviews and flop status.

• Budget: $50,000,000.
  
• Domestic gross: $26,235,081. ($45.5 million adjusted)
  
• Worldwide gross: $31,794,718.
  

Mystic River (2003)

"We bury our sins, we wash them clean."
His 24th film. Based on the novel by Dennis Lehane, it stars Sean Penn, Tim Robbins, Kevin Bacon, Laurence Fishburne, Marcia Gay Harden, and Laura Linney. It follows three childhood friends who are reunited 25 years later when one of them suffers a family tragedy.
Michael Keaton was originally cast in the role of Det. Sean Devine, and did several script readings with the cast, as well as his own research into the practices of the Massachusetts Police Department. However, creative differences between Keaton and Eastwood led to Keaton leaving the production. He was replaced by Kevin Bacon. This was the first film in which Eastwood would be credited as composer.
The film had a slow roll-out, but it was aided by strong word of mouth, closing with a wonderful $156 million worldwide. It also received acclaim, and was named as one of Eastwood's greatest films. Sean Penn received universal acclaim for his performance, with some naming it among the best acting of the century, particularly for one scene (if you watched it, you definitely know which scene). It received 6 Oscar nominations, including Best Picture and Best Director for Eastwood. It won two: Best Actor for Penn and Best Supporting Actor for Robbins.

• Budget: $25,000,000.
  
• Domestic gross: $90,135,191. ($153 million adjusted)
  
• Worldwide gross: $156,595,191.
  

Come back tomorrow for Part 2

Don't suggest directors for the next edition here. Save it for tomorrow.

Chapter 6 – {Awakening}
“What a sudden turn of events! Camulus has undergone a startling transformation, and has now suddenly gained the advantage! Can Henry come back from this? Or will Camulus crush him like the unstoppable force he has now seem to have become.”
“What are we gonna’ do nowwwwww?” Goll whined, tears streaming down her face as she shelled up on the floor.
Arthur looked at her sympathetically, as if he were a dad looking at his crying daughter. Kneeling down, he placed a hand on her shoulder and rubbed gently, trying to rouse her from her worry. “There, there, the fight is not over yet.” Arthur assured her softly.
Snapping up into a sitting position, she grabbed a hold of whatever cloth she could get her hands on and began to shake Arthur as hard as she could. With tear now of anger rather than sadness, she began to shout at him. “WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN, “The fights not over yet”? HE'S JUST TAKEN ON A STRONGER FORM, AND HENRY CAN BARELY KEEP UP WITH HIM AT HIS BASE LEVEL! HOW THE HELL DO YOU SUGGEST THEY GET OUT OF THIS ONE?!”
He tried to get out a response as he shook back and forth wildly, “Just-keep-wa-tching-the-ma-tch.”

As Goll had a meltdown up in the stands, Henry was struggling to stand on the field. His left arm had been rendered little more than a clump of bruised flesh and powdered bone, the mangled limb twisted at a truly sickening angle. The rest of his exposed form was bruised, bloodied and battered, micro cuts crisscrossed his frame alongside deeper gashes and rents in his flesh from the many blows he had endured over the course of the fight. And now he stood, staring up at his opponent, stronger than ever, like a stone wall, waiting for Henry to shatter himself on his now indomitable stature.
And yet, the light still burned in Henry’s mind. Like an everlasting flame, the spark of warmth, of passion and determination still burned in Henry’s soul. He would see this fight through, no matter the odds stacked against him, or the forces that sought to block his path, he would endure. It did not matter to him that one of his arms had been mangled. The god could have a leg, if they wanted, perhaps even both. As long as he could raise his sword, he could still fight. And if he could fight, he could win.
All it would take, is one good shot.
“I would advise you to surrender now. Perhaps they’ll let you keep your life.” Camulus suggested, a deep grimace on his face.
Planting his sword in the cracks of the stone, Henry propped himself up on the blade, his muscle screaming for release, yet he could not stop. He strained to smile, his eyes bleary as he looked at his adversary. “I’m sorry,” he declared, pride creeping into his voice, “but a King bows to no one, not mortal, and since the gods show themselves cruel and fickle, not even them. As a leader, I would be a disgrace if I chose any path other than battle.”
Camulus processed his opponent’s words for a second, then a toothy grin stretched on his face, one of pride and excitement, but more worryingly, one of sheer bloodlust, “Then we’re of the same mind.”
Camulus’ image blurred as he seemed to vanish into thin air. Confusion didn’t even have time to set in, as the god’s fist smashed into the plate of armour protecting Henry torso just below the sternum. The shock wave of the blow boomed throughout the stadium. Henry heaved as the hit knocked him away, but before he could go very far, a nanosecond after the punch, the sole of Camulus’ foot slammed into Henry’s face brutalizing his nose and adding more momentum in addition to the punch, sending him clear across the ring, crashing into the walls and the arena.
Henry hacked up a glob of blood as his head spun for the 1-2 combo of devastation. Camulus sauntered toward Henry as if he were taking a stroll through the fields. The image vanished, before appearing directly above Henry in an instant. A wicked grin near split Camulus’ face as he began to hammer down on Henry’s form. All Henry could do was shell up in hopes to stave off the onslaught. The blows came in a million a second, embedding him deeper into the stone as the armour continued to crumple under the pressure.

“It seems Camulus has this battle won.” Andrasta commented, her tone pointedly neutral.
“Yes, but at what cost?” Cnabetius answered, his voice wavering as he was on the verge of tears.
“The little one is right,” Caturix answered, “that form may give him great physical might, but it comes at the cost of a deteriorating mental state.”
Lugh spoke up. “And you would know about this?” he prodded, trying to get more information out of the Battle King.
Caturix’s jaw clenched as he watched the fight intently, his mind and body on edge from the brutal display

Swinging his arm wide, he dug his arm into the arena and dragged it through the stone, palming the side of his opponent’s head and sending them flying through the air, before quickly crashing into the ground with a sickening thud.
Seeing his fallen foe splayed across the ground, Camulus crouched down and tensed, as if he were an apex predator waiting for the right moment to strike his prey. Henry, meanwhile, was struggling to breathe after the bombardment of blows. He heaved as he struggled to rise to his feet, the misshapen armour now digging into his body at odd angles. His knees were shaking as the struggled to rise to his feet.
In an instant, his adversary was again upon him, battering with every kind of blow at every angle one could think of. Punches, kick, elbows, knees, chops, Camulus even made use of the spikes and blades on his knuckledusters, raking and slashing them across any exposed flesh he could see. Henry struggled to withstand the hail of blows, each hits threatening to knock him over. He couldn’t dodge the assault, he could barely block or even see the hits. The sheer speed and ferocity of the onslaught made it nigh impossible to even find an opportunity to counter, let alone pull it off successfully.
Camulus began to laugh uproariously, seemingly enjoying the punishment he was inflicting upon his prey, almost relishing in the game of life and death. Each blow forced Henry back, his will struggling to keep him from being knocked clean off his feet.
A punch smashed into Henry’s stomach, making Henry wretch as he struggled to keep his stomach contents from being violently forced from his body. An instant later, an upper cut hammered into his jaw with the might of a catapult, launching his body high into the air. Henry’s head wrung like a gong as not even a moment later, Camulus was directly above him. Henry tried to raise his sword to strike at his foe, but he found it kicked away as Camulus began to spin, gaining momentum as he prepared to strike his opponent down. As his fists came down, for just a moment, the metals shone like diamonds in the sunlight.
[Colchester Crash]
This time, there was no defence, no counter to the blow. It connected squarely into Henry’s chest, as the blow slammed down both combatants like a meteor. The ground was blasted to pieces as small rock were smashed to dust in the wind, and largerocks sent flying in every direction. The building seemed to be cracking apart, sending both god and man alike into a panic as they rushed to either escape or stop the damage from becoming worse. The sound boomed throughout the entire Realm as the dust settled into a thick cloud that covered the arena.
Several moments passed as the cloud slowly died away to reveal the carnage. What ever hadn’t been destroyed before the impact as certainly pulverised now. The floor was a mess, rock jutting up from the earth at random intervals, as if they were whales breaching the surface of the sea. Cracks like spider webs sectioned the ground, transforming the terrain into a grid of madness.
It was from that chaos one of the combatants forced themselves into the light. The rocks moved and shifted, giving way to reveal Camulus almost completely unharmed.
Physically, at least.
Mentally it was clear that something was not right. His eyes were red deeply bloodshot and demented, his grin splitting his face as his teeth slowly grinded together. If his sanity hadn’t fled him before, it was certainly gone now.

“Uh, guys”, Cnabetius stammered, “I don’t like that look he has.”
“It’s quite worrisome.” Andrasta replied, a slight warble in her voice from fear.
“Most worrisome.” Lugh added.
Meanwhile, Caturix began to shake, the pace of his breath increasing steadily as he took in the sight, his worst nightmare come back to haunt him. ‘Dammit, I knew this would happen, I knew that if that form was released it would be the end for all of us.’

He remembered that day as if he were living it. The day when the true God of War was decided.
The great battles of unification had taken millennia, dozens, if not hundred of God’s staking their claim as the one true God of War. It was an intense and bloody affair, but at the end, it had come down to two men, two unbroken warriors; The Battle King, Caturix and the Untameable Flame, Camulus. It had been a battle that had been brewing for centuries, and in Caturix’s mind, it did not disappoint.
For days, the two warred, battering each other bloody with everything they had in their arsenal.
[Magh Ithe]
https://preview.redd.it/0r71zysrx71d1.png?width=1024&format=png&auto=webp&s=70dfb70dbc3ab6c98510e84bdf98f1576ee27fde
[Cicollui Clothesline]
https://preview.redd.it/pijyzwkiz71d1.png?width=4096&format=png&auto=webp&s=2ac76f796bdb6a771ae5610b9d04cad53d6a266a
[Helvetii]
https://preview.redd.it/20lqcvwjz71d1.png?width=4096&format=png&auto=webp&s=b61ff27d99b8dbfc33cbe1a5f4d86ab91cb94478
Caturix hit Camulus with every attack in his arsenal, yet the kid refused to fall, refused to yield. Instead, the young God only used each blow as motivation to hit back harder
[Colchester Crash]
https://preview.redd.it/ctfzhvxzx71d1.png?width=1024&format=png&auto=webp&s=69fe9294178bdd12e42c8ebec7681c8076beeaf8
[Gae Pretannia]
https://preview.redd.it/09zykjugz71d1.png?width=1024&format=png&auto=webp&s=d294b99e7cf9aebfa054d983c93c8f7c279b7e25
[Sacred Fire]
https://preview.redd.it/rudzl0z8z71d1.png?width=4096&format=png&auto=webp&s=6660480e1a6b17f44936e9c2ad18be239d1e433b
Blow after blow, each stronger than the last. But just as Camulus refused to fall, neither did Caturix. Even [Across the Channel], professed by many to be the knockout blow against him was not actually enough to drop him, not on it’s own. In fact, as the battle drew to it’s close, it seemed as if Caturix was finally beginning to get the better of his rival.
He hit another [Magh Ithe] flush into Camulus’s chest. How many he had hit at that point was lost to Caturix, he lost count after 36. But this time, after so much punishment, Camulus finally looked as if he was about to drop.
‘Just one more.’ Caturix thought tiredly, yet hopefully to himself. ‘Just one more hit, and he might finally go down’.
Caturix moved in, charging up a final blow, ready to finally put an end to this.
“Eat this! [Europa: Overlord]”
He launched the move with full might. The mere force of the group rending it asunder.
Only to find a fist connecting squarely with his jaw.
Now, Caturix had endured the feeling of a punch countless of his millennia of combat. He had endured countless punches in this fight alone. So it it is all the more notable that this punches, out of the uncountable masses, was the one he recognised about all others. He remembered it for one simple reason. Never before, and never since , had any one blow struck him as hard as that one punch.
At that moment, Caturix knew one painful, and consuming truth. He was going to lose.
The Camulus struck with [Across the Channel].
Whilst the first one had been impactful, this second flurry carried with it far greater speed and power, too great for even the battle king to withstand. It was as if Camulus had gathered a second wind, twice as strong as before. The final blow smashed into Caturix’s temple, sending his brain spinning through several dimensions as the battle king, after so long, finally fell.
Camulus was the victor. Yet he did not stop.
Instead, Camulus leapt upon his foe with ferocity, like a rabid animal tearing at a carcass. He began to pummel the battle king mercilessly, wanting his pound of flesh from his opponent. It was here, up close, that Caturix could see the change his opponent underwent, the strange blue markings that were spread across his body like war paint, and his deeply bloodshot eyes. The beating was relentless, as the new monster sought to punish Caturix for daring to challenge it.
He knew he had to do something to seal this monster that had been unleashed from with Camulus’ soul, lest he rampage throughout the Realm.
[Sheathing of the Blade]
Caturix stabbed into Camulus at specific spots with the spikes on his gauntlets, finding the vital points where energy was drawn from, and sealing them. He would not know whether it worked in the moment, as he passed out a second later. It would only be when he awoke days later, did he find out his success.
It would be the first and last time he would fight Camulus for the top. Not because he saw himself as lesser, but because he did not want to risk unleashing that terror again

And now, that terror was staring him in the face once again.
He could see that same all-consuming desire for blood and destruction. He tensed preparing to fight the one thing that put fear into his heart.
He was bought out of his thought by a loud WHAM that shook the stadium as Thor rose to his feet. The God of Thunder stared down at his one challenger, ready for that long awaited rematch.
“Ah, w-well...” Heimdall stuttered, still feeling from the chaos that had just occurred, “It would appear that the winner of Round 1 is...”
Camulus’ Attention was now laser focused on Thor, tensing as he prepared to leap towards a new opponent.
“The Celtic God of War...”
Ready, set-
“Camu-”
A breath could be heard from the rubble.
It was a quiet, rasping breath, yet it could be heard with clarity across the entire stadium. Everyone froze as they realised where that breath came from. The rocks shifted as out from the rubble emerged the battered, but still living form of Henry V.
“Damn, that was too close for comfort!” Lancelot huffed, still trying to get his wits about him, “You almost got pasted there, and that means we both would have died, you damn fool. Not like that matters much now...”
Camulus’ head turned to regard the bloodied king, salivating with demented glee, ready for the continued brutality.
“Since we’re gonna be dead in a few seconds regardless.”
As Henry lay there, broken and bloodied, he could hear voices from the audience.

“HENRY!” his father yelled, “Don’t you give up now, boy! You are the best of all of us! Show that god what's what?”
“Let that god know the might of the English!” Henry VII shouted.
“Show them what a real warrior can do!” Richard Lionheart roared.
“C’Mon dad, you can do this” Henry VI cheered.
Hotspur stepped forward, gathering his breath before screaming to the Heavens, “MONMOUTH! What do want to do?! What is your one true desire?!”

“To win, my way.”
Pushing off his good arm, he strained to sit up, collecting his breath as he did so. “Never surrender, never retreat.”
“Oh sure,” Lancelot responded, the sarcasm layered on very thick, “and how exactly are we supposed to do that.”
Henry slowly stood, carefully balancing his weight between the sword and his weary legs. “There is one thing we can do... just one.”
https://preview.redd.it/30opimuez71d1.png?width=4096&format=png&auto=webp&s=8725c7ced4d0cd872401fed592c0d97a92102b10
Closing his eyes, he focused deeply, bringing out every thought every emotion he had ever had, then let all of them flow from his mind. He let complete and total calm take hold in that moment. There was no emotion, there was no doubt or second guessing, there was only truth. Absolute, irrevocable truth. The deepest instinct, the greatest of them all.
“[Royal instinct]”
Less than a second later, Camulus had leapt to within striking distance, ready to end his foe. But whereas Henry was completely overwhelmed before, now his clarity was absolute. He knew exact what would happen, how each and every muscle within Camulus’ body would move before they even did so. Henry knew what Camulus’ second move would be before he even began his first.
Camulus shot out with a wild punch, which the more focused Henry deflected with ease. If he had use of his other arm, he may have even followed up with a punch of his own. Instead, he simply let Camulus’ momentum work against him.
The god overshot, and was sent crashing into the ground a few times before slamming into the wall.
As the crowd looked on in shock at what had just happened, they turned to look at the man who had done it. He had change, it was clear to see for all through the change on his eyes, once filled with brown tones, now a crystalline, pale silver. The sword had morphed to reflect this new state, reflecting the mind of a king. Whatever this was, it had shifted the tide of battle yet again.
https://preview.redd.it/i40thhpcz71d1.png?width=4096&format=png&auto=webp&s=8e2d91981867bbda4480edf1c3da008a9146e66a
“Damn! What is this?!” Lancelot cried, “I feel my head is full of everything and nothing at the same time!”
“[Royal Instinct]! A fine tuning of the instincts within all of us. By using this we, can reject all unnecessary thoughts and information, both new and old, as well as higher awareness and clarity of vital information. On the absolute truth of the situation will be known to us, truth we’ll know before the lie can even be made.”
Camulus soon broke his way free from the rock and charged. He leapt forward again, this time with an elbow, again deflected. Again, Camulus skid across the rocks for several metres, but this time, he was able to right himself and charge in again. But again, the resulting attack was deflected.
This repeated several more times, each attack and recovery was faster than the last. But Henry parried them all with perfect clarity, as he bided his time for the perfect moment.
After another parry, Camulus righted himself and prepared the blast into Henry at full speed, all thought of technique gone from the raving gods mind. Henry readied his blade for his own strike.
The mere tap of Camulus’ foot sent shock waves through the ground as he rocketed forward and max speed. But Henry was undeterred. Swiftly parrying the blow, he brought his arm in and then swung out. The pommel connected directly with Camulus’ temple, sending the force of the impact through his head, almost seeming to paralyse the god, as he crashed and skidded across the ground limply.
For the first time since the transformation occurred, Henry had seized the advantage.

‘Where the hell am I?’ was Camulus’ first weary thought after being shocked back to sanity.
‘Ohhh fuck, my head hurts worse than that time me and Cna went drinking at the place the humans called Mamucium.’
Taking a moment to clear the thunderstorm in his head, he scanned over the decimated arena, his dizziness turning to confusion. ‘OK seriously, what the hell happened here?’
Pushing himself from the rubble, he survey the situation, trying to understand what was going on. Then suddenly, his skull felt as if it was about to burst, and his eyes swan with illusions and distortions of reality, hearing voices whispering behind his ears. Camulus clutched at his head, forcing the thoughts down. After a minute of excruciating pain, he finally returned to reality.
'Dammit, what's going on with me? Focus! You have a fight to win!'
“Damn, we might have knocked him out cold. I’m loath to say it, but I think you were right, we may have a chance after all.” Lancelot commented, almost in awe of the current situation.
Henry chuckled, “Wouldn’t have figured you to be one to admit when you were wrong.”
Lancelot froze for a moment, before scoffing at Henry’s comment, “Just because you were right doesn’t mean I was wrong, jackass!”
For a moment, Henry laughed at Lancelot’s Haughtiness, before that cheer was replaced by boiling pain, as he dropped to a knee. Lancelot was confused for a moment, before he felt a warm liquid pour from his eyes. As he dabbed at his eyes, he saw the crimson colouration that quickly gave away what that liquid was.
Blood.
“What the hell is this? What’s going on?!”
Henry stammered as he spoke, still trying to get his wits about him. “A-ah yes, t-here is a cost t-to using the form.”
https://preview.redd.it/bzcy3g8vz71d1.png?width=1024&format=png&auto=webp&s=a7682905a9a922d062639ce0d01afe3c1fff92e6
“And what would that be?!”
“Working the mind at such an acute level can result in overload if stressed too hard, or used too long. I’ve been used to using against humans...”
“...and you just now used it against a god.” Lancelot finish.
“Y-yes”
“Jesus Christ,” Lancelot mumbled, “WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?!” he them screamed.
“I’ve made peace with the fact that even if I win, I likely won’t live much longer anyway. So right now, in this moment, I don’t care how much damage I do to myself, or how much time I have left is eaten away. As long as I have enough to win this fight, long enough to bring humanity, and the people I care for, one step closer to salvation, it matters not.”
Both Camulus and Henry stood, readying their guard, their bodies battered and bruised, yet their spirits unbroken, they both knew one thing. Win or lose, this fight was nearing its end.