I don't know how much evidence there are for the existence of the concept of Ragnarök and that Deities could die in sources that both 1. are - arguably, at least - completely free from Snorri's influence and 2. are pre-Christian.
While there are Deities Who are mentioned on king lists as ancestors of royal families, I don't know how old those lists are. And I don't know said lists' authors meant that they think said Deities were human beings.
Also, could Snorri's account of the Æsir as human beings from Asia be, by any chance, authentic lore?

WHO ARE YOU?

Born out of the ashes of the Total Eclipse alliance, Order of the Eclipse is an EU/US TZ, PvP-focused, tight-knit group based in Triumvirate alliance.
We're not the F1 monkey corp. You'll find us pinging fleets, organizing caps, flying cynos, running links, anchoring logi, doing recons, running intelligence and otherwise ensuring that operations go to plan. There are a million n+1 corps in every alliance, but we aim to be the force multiplier on whatever grid we're involved in.
Because of this, we attract active pilots who want a deeper understanding of the game. We range from newer to more experienced pilots, but the hunger is there for all of us.

WHY JOIN?

Because you're tired of running a TFI in a fleet of 400 TFIs, taking a titan bridge and then 7 Ansiblexes to get into a 10% TiDi slugfest if you're lucky and get blueballed if you're not. You're bored of dread fights that don't happen, of having a CEO who doesn't log in and probably doesn't even know your name, and of having to climb the greasy pole to be able to actually do anything in your alliance.
You want to be a part of the operation. Whether your goal is to FC, to fly important roles, to build things, to be in the room where the discussions happen, to improve your mechanics, to be a spy, to import things onto the market, to dominate small gang grids or to multibox 4 caps in a dread brawl, you'll be surrounded by other people who think like you do.
And if you're not there yet, you'll be surrounded by people who have been there and done it, and can help you to reach your goals.

CORP REQUIREMENTS

Good question, and the answer is that you don't need to have been playing since 2003, a titan alt, or a 99% zKillboard efficiency (though you are very welcome if you have any or all of the above). We look for:

• A good attitude
• A working mic
• Killboard activity (ideally at least 1,000 kills, but don't be put off applying if it's a little less)
• Two Omega accounts
• The ability to fly useful PvP ships (ceptors, dictors & bombers at a minimum)
• Time & desire to play with the corp

LET'S DO THIS

Does Order of the Eclipse sound like the corp for you? If so, join us on Discord and read the #join-us channel. Feel free to hang around, get to know us, and ask questions.
You can also check out our zKillboard, EveWho, and DotLAN.

Currently in a Pariah Nexus crusade. We're about to all get a free 500 supply points and move the battle limit to 2000 points.
This is my current roster - are there any glaring holes that could use patching? (Other than "maybe try to win more.")
https://administratum.goonhammer.com/rosters/f325f05e-27d9-4c0d-812c-f78d5daf14ae
No epic heroes in this Crusade, so that rules out Az with the hellblasters.

Server Address: play.rosefall.net
Join Our Discord! discord.gg/rosefall
Key Features

• Custom Vanilla Experience our server with a twist on Vanilla Minecraft. Play with custom materials, items, and weapons to combat unique adversaries.
• Dungeons and Quests Protect Rosefall and uncover its mysteries. Delve into dungeons, tackle quests, and progress through the storyline while collecting impressive loot.
• Player-Driven Economy Trade freely and set up player-run shops anywhere in the world, shaping the server's economy.
• User-Friendly Land Claiming Safeguard your property effortlessly with Golden Shovels provided from the start.
• Free Ranks Earn ranks by playing and advancing on the server. Each rank comes with its own exclusive perks.
• Friendly Community Though we are a new server, we foster a mature, respectful, and friendly player community.
• Custom Textures Elevate your gameplay with custom cosmetics, weapon skins, pets, and more!

What is Rosefall?
Rosefall is an up and coming Minecraft server that was publicly released on April 5th, 2024. We've crafted a unique Minecraft experience by infusing it with a touch of magic. Immerse yourself in a world teeming with breathtaking landscapes, hidden mysteries, and the enchanting ambiance of twilight. Explore diverse towns and villages, each with its own allure, awaiting your discovery and conquest.
Whether you're a solitary traveler, a budding architect, or a courageous hero, Rosefall has something for every adventurer. Engage in epic quests, unravel the land's enigmas, and etch your legend into the annals of Minecraft lore. The possibilities are boundless, and the choices are entirely yours to make.
Step into the enchanting world of Rosefall, where roses bloom under the twilight sky, and embark on an unforgettable Minecraft odyssey. Your destiny beckons.

I had to leave an airbnb I had booked for three weeks because a rat woke me up. It got caught in a mouse trap and I woke up to the sound of it slamming it's head against the kitchen floor. Wasn't aware that there were rodents or even traps in the place, but I looked above the kitchen cabinets to find several mouse traps. Host didn't even apologize and tried to tell us we were unreasonable for wanting to leave. I don't care if rodents are common, I still don't think it's acceptable to be woken up by a rat! They carry diseases. It was also in the kitchen which is extremely gross.
After we left I was able to get a partial refund from airbnb. I sent them photos of the rat, screenshots of my conversations with the host, and photos of rat droppings we found afterwards.
I only got refunded for the nights I booked after we left, which is fine. The host left a fake review on my account however. The review states "Airbnb hosts beware. She tried to stay at our airbnb for free. She stayed for a full week before stating she found rodents in the house and requested a full refund for the whole stay. We do not have rodents, she made this up as well as other things to try to get a free place to stay."
Reading that has me fuming. We literally left the dead rat on the floor so they'd have to pick it up. So there's absolutely no way she didn't see it. Also had to send photo evidence to airbnb support in order to get the refund. We didn't even receive a full refund, so clearly I wasn't trying to stay for free since I had to pay for the nights I spent there.
So I called airbnb support back and explained the situation. They told me they don't take down reviews. Don't understand why they won't remove it when they know it's a lie.
At the end of the day it's just one review and shouldn't affect me too much since all the other reviews I've received have been good. Just wanted to come on here and rant about it. I'm so angry about this situation. They could've just apologized. They didn't apologize even ONCE for the rat.

Hi everyone,
I wanted to share with you my response to the introduction found in the only edition of Use of the Self currently in print. I believe it's a rather misleading intro to FM Alexander's work, so I'm sharing this in the hope that I can help clear up misconceptions people may have about the Alexander Technique, not derived only from Anthony Kingsley, but many bland blog posts one tends to encounter when researching the Alexander Technique. That said, this is not intended to be an introduction of its own, but rather something experienced students, teachers, and anyone enthusiastically learning the Technique may find useful. In the tradition of Alexander himself, I've included extensive footnotes, some painfully long. I'm happy to answer any questions or otherwise discuss what I've written. Understand these are my own interpretations and opinions about what some call "the work," so take them as you will. I've taken lessons for a number of years and currently am training as a teacher, so my view of the Technique is based on these experiences, as well as my interpretations of Alexander's writings. Some of these interpretations you may object to, but I hope you find my arguments reasonable.
Response to Anthony Kingsley's Introduction to The Use of the Self
The Use of the Self may be FM Alexander's most important work, since it contains his own account of how he developed what is now called the Alexander Technique. While Alexander's other volumes are available from Mouritz, the only edition of The Use of the Self currently in print is published by Orion Spring. This edition replaces the philosopher John Dewey's introduction—which praises the technique's "genuinely scientific character"—with one by the contemporary teacher Anthony Kingsley, who is heralded on the book's front cover as a "leading Alexander Technique teacher." Therefore it is probable that many readers' first impressions of the Alexander Technique will be framed by Mr. Kingsley's opinions. I submit this is problematic, since his introduction is in my view contradictory to fundamental principles of the Alexander Technique. I write this response to address the introduction's two most dire faults: Kingsley's misrepresentation of the concepts inhibition and direction, and his dismissal of the concept of the primary control. I'll begin with the second, since it is a more straightforward error.
Primary Control
Kingsley opens his paragraphs on the primary control with the opinion that the concept should be "recast," then describes Alexander's definition of the primary control as a "particular relationship of his head, neck and back [that] acted as a master reflex that conditioned his whole organism." Then he discards this definition, claiming the head-neck-back relativity should instead be "regarded as an indicator[sic] of overall health rather than an area considered in isolation." He concedes the "region of the neck and back is a [...] barometer of our state of being," but concludes that "no single element is actually primary," since our eyes, breath, digestive system, and all other psychophysical elements are "simultaneous and interdependent" and also like barometers. Finally, he reveals his "recast" of the primary control, defining it as "the unknown and unseen self-righting and self-healing mechanism that can be restored and vitalized."
In sum, Mr. Kingsley has presented the primary control—which Alexander wrote extensively about and considered central to his technique—with an ill-defined mystical force which, accordingly, Alexander must have unwittingly stumbled upon and mistaken for a certain relativity of the head, neck and back.
Ironically, it is in The Use of the Self where Alexander wrote of discovering the necessity to first free his neck in seeking a better condition for his vocal apparatus, since that was the sine qua non of taking his head forward and up, of widening the back, and so forth, which are in turn the necessary conditions of freedom and stability in the limbs. This is the genesis of Alexander's use of the word "primary" in describing the head-neck-back relationship, and in my experience, as in Alexander's, it holds true: the sequence of directions given to oneself matters greatly, since tense feet, for example, can hardly flatten on the floor if the head is taken back and down, whereas the head can be taken "forward and up"1 to a fine degree even if there is tension in the lower extremities, particularly while sitting. Further, and maybe most significantly, the relativity of the head-neck-back rarely need change during any manner of activity, whereas the arms and legs are constantly bending, rising, stretching, and so on. Small wonder Alexander considered this relativity primary.
Of course, Kingsley is not wrong to point out the interdependence of all processes in the body. It is certainly true that undue tension in the feet creates a downward pull on the head, neck and back. Yet what is crucial to understand here is that in the context of learning and teaching the Alexander Technique, the primary control is an indispensable concept. It instructs the pupil to guide his or her attention through the body in the sequence most fit to facilitate proper relativity of all the parts, and it names succinctly that natural, visible, dynamic yet enduring relativity of the head, neck and back observable in little children and animals as well as many great musicians and athletes. Thus Kingsley discards a practical concept in favor of a truism about "interdependence;" and so we come to his second, graver error.
Direction
Here it begins to seem that what Kingsley writes of in his introduction is not the Alexander Technique at all, but in fact the Kingsley Technique, since he has redefined not only the primary control, but two other conceptual pillars of the technique: inhibition and direction.
First, he takes aim at direction, neglecting to elucidate Alexander's own definition of the concept before setting out the axiom that "aiming for postural improvements using postural directions leads to a bodymind[sic] attitude of effort and trying, which simply reinforces the problem." Dismissing as superfluous all "ideas and images about heads, necks and backs," he declares that "the trying[sic] self is the obstacle, and the shift towards a non-trying[sic] self is the solution." Finally, he offers his own definition of the directions as "the natural flow of energy and vibrancy that exists within the organism," directions which are interfered with "when we are in a condition of stress and reactivity."
Here, again, Kingsley takes a practical concept which Alexander developed based on careful observation of his own muscular action, and replaces it with a kind of mystical or spiritual phenomenon which, implicitly, only the initiated can perceive.2 Thus the famous directions are not, as Alexander described repeatedly, a series of mental orders or intentions projected to oneself before and during muscular activity along lines one has reasoned out in advance, but a "natural flow of energy and vibrancy"—just as the primary control is not, as Alexander saw it, a concrete, observable relativity of the head, neck and back, but an "unknown and unseen self-righting and self-healing mechanism." These pseudo-spiritual definitions do a massive disservice to neophyte readers, and reveal Kingsley's muddled seeing in relation to the central problem addressed by the Alexander Technique: how to shed habit and coordinate the bodymind through reasoned conception and conscious awareness.
But for a moment let us leave aside direction, since a subtler and more misleading error still lurks in Kingsley's presentation: his dismissal of conception itself. He explicitly warns that "ideas, concepts and cognitive efforts reinforce the very mental instrument that is the problem in the first place," he advises us to simply trust that "the prevention or inhibition[sic] of reaction, maintains or liberates this stream of energy [or direction] in the body."
To understand Kingsley's error, we must return to Alexander. In Man's Supreme Inheritance, Alexander sets out four stages to the "performance of any muscular action by conscious guidance and control:"

1. The conception of the movement required;
2. The inhibition of erroneous preconceived ideas which subconsciously suggest the manner in which the movement or series of movements should be performed;
3. The new and conscious mental orders which will set in motion the muscular mechanism essential to the correct performance of the action;
4. The movements (contractions and expansions) of the muscles which carry out the mental orders.

Alexander considered "conception of the movement required" the very first stage in his technique, to precede even inhibition. Thus he made clear, if indirectly, that in the context of his technique, clear conception is essential to achieving a desired end. Incidentally, this is a fact any competent artist can attest to; if a composition is not unambiguously understood and organized within one's memory, it cannot be brought to fruition. Even the most simple act, such as extending one's arm to grasp a nearby object, requires a detailed conception of distance, weight, strength, and so forth; if the object turns out to be heavier than expected, the conception of these variables and their relation to one another, and hence the muscular action, must change. This is direction in action, albeit subconscious.
Yet Kingsley belittles conception, instead leaning on concepts like "ease," "letting go" "acceptance," and the like. He is not alone in this among teachers, but in my opinion, they overlook the influence of what Alexander termed "erroneous beliefs," a concept closely related to that of "unreliable sensory appreciation." Both could be read in the spiritual lexicon alongside "letting go," etc.; but that would place their referent outside the realm of what words and concepts can describe. On the contrary, Alexander was pointing to something concrete and empirically observable: to errors of spatio-motor perception able to be observed phenomenologically and in other people's behavior; not to transcendent truths about observation itself. Thus the classic example of an Alexandrian "erroneous belief" is a person who raises their arm and believes their shoulder has remained still when it has not. The key for the pupil in this instance is to gain an accurate conception5 of their own muscular action, in reference to bodily sensations; not to simply "let go" or "do nothing."3 And this conception must come about through active tutelage—e.g. Alexander Technique lessons—or, dare I say, the way Alexander himself did it: by reasoned experimentation, conceiving hypotheses based on careful register and analysis of his own sensations, and also by watching the behavior of others. John Dewey called the technique scientific for a reason.
All of this is not to understate the importance of concepts like "release" and "effortlessness," including in the context of the Alexander Technique. Seeing more or less what is meant by them is doubtless the key to mastery of all activities, all practices, all techniques. Yet those spiritual concepts should not blot out the very concrete technique Alexander developed for improving what he called "the use of the self:" that coordination of the muscular system, achieved through conscious reason, which influences for better or worse the functioning of the whole organism.4
Inhibition
So much for direction. What about inhibition? Under the heading "Inhibition and Non-Doing," Kingsley describes Alexander's understanding of inhibition as "an artificial pause between stimulus and reaction," after which he could "give directions to himself." Then he lays down the gauntlet, stating that in the "real world […] life does not offer us the choice to inhibit:" since according to neuroscience research, "neural reactions take milliseconds and are faster than conscious thought processes." In other words, "we either react to the stimulus, or not." So, with inhibition proven impossible, Kingsley is left with no choice but to "reformulate" another of Alexander's concepts, offering us a supposedly scientifically enlightened6 view that inhibition is really "a quality of non-doing[sic] that needs to be already available in the organism before the receipt of a stimulus." This is "a way of being[sic] rather than a way of doing[sic]."
This Kingsleyan inhibition turns out to be the essence of the technique, since it is this very "condition of non-doing[sic]" the teacher is supposed to transmit, through a touch Kingsley describes as "a dance of poetry and a symphony of silence." With it, the teacher imparts a "deep sense of acceptance" by which "change emerges in the pupil."7 He goes on to compare the Alexander Technique to "Zen Buddhism, mindfulness and the philosophy of non-duality," identifying the uniqueness of the Alexander Technique in "the transmission of immediate experience." In fact, there is no Alexander Technique as such, but only inhibition:
The Chinese Tao has a concept of Wu Wei[sic], which translates as surrendering to the effortless flow of life[sic], or non-doing[sic] action. Ultimately, the Alexander Technique needs to reinvent itself and relinquish the Technique. The Alexander Teacher really teaches nothing[sic!]. But this nothing or emptiness is in fact the deepest essence of being and the fullness of life. Like grace, it drops onto us and into us when the conditions are ripe.
The problem is that Alexander's own writings indicate that inhibition is not a "quality," a "condition," or a "surrendering to the effortless flow of life." On the contrary, according to Universal Constant in Living, it is "the act of refusing to respond to the primary desire to gain an end, [which] becomes the act of responding (volitionary act) to the conscious reasoned desire to employ the means whereby that end may be gained." As clear as day: inhibition is an action in response to the stimulus of conscious desire: a conscious, continuing refusal to do a thing the way one normally does it. Alexander saw that this inhibitory act had to precede in every instance any attempt to change his habits. Everyone is well familiar with the inhibitory act. The act of not indulging an immediate desire, however small, is it. So, inhibition is not an "artificial pause," but a phenomenologically observable process within the organism, a process that can be made habitual through practice. It is no more abstract and transcendent than blinking or moving one's finger.7
Here Kingsley again takes something ordinary and concrete and makes it mystical, going so far as to "relinquish the Technique." The trouble is that there is a good reason the Alexander Technique came to be known as such. A technique is a skillful way of doing something; a mental tool; a procedure. Ways of doing can be found everywhere: techniques for dance, for romance, for healing, even for attaining nirvana or enlightenment. Each has a goal in mind and is based on what worked in the past; each resorts to concepts to explain itself; each prescribes action, or doing something a certain way. Yet Kingsley dismisses the idea of doing anything at all. Equating the Alexander Technique with "nothing," he tosses out the concepts Alexander spent decades refining, when Alexander's genius was precisely to conceive a useful, coherent way of doing things through patient observation of the phenomena he termed inhibition, direction, primary control, and the rest.
So, the technique may encompass all the acts of living, but it is still a technique. Alexander often used the term "procedure" to describe it, and I think procedure is as apt a word as any to describe the application of his technique to the acts of living. He constantly stressed the technique's sequential, stepwise nature and recorded countless practical examples of it in action, both in hypotheticals and accounts of lessons. The technique is not a metaphysics or a philosophy like non-duality; it is a practical procedure with a clear purpose: restoring
advantageous, natural relativity of the head, neck and back.
Conclusion
The technique is blindingly simple but surprisingly subtle and difficult to master; and, as far as I am aware, it is unique. Unfortunately, Kingsley is not alone in overlooking the uniqueness and subtleties of the technique in favor of spiritual truisms and platitudes. I suspect there are two main reasons for this.
The first is the tendency of serious pupils of the technique to become more open to "spirituality," both philosophically (e.g. non-duality) and in terms of sadhana (e.g. meditation, yoga, self-inquiry). Many are enthusiastic about the similarities between the Alexander Technique and, for example, mindfulness practice. It is certainly true that the technique requires the pupil to have some degree of "mindfulness," or the ability to realize when the mind has wandered; and it is also true that a few people who devote themselves to the technique come upon some of the same insights one might find in spiritual practice. Yet spiritual insight is not the purpose of the technique. In my opinion, the Alexander Technique is a relative of energy practices such as Hatha yoga, qigong, and TRE (trauma release exercises). Such techniques are often used in tandem with spiritual practices meant for the cultivation of insight, but their purpose has traditionally been preparatory and salutary, not "spiritual." One need not stray too esoteric to encounter the idea that the real goal of spirituality has nothing to do with "ways of doing." On the other hand, Qigong explicitly aims to regulate qi in the body; kundalini yoga is concerned with the flow of prana; the Alexander Technique seeks to restore the good use of the primary control. More practically, the technique teaches mental discipline, and ultimately the ability of the nervous system to regulate itself. Such a practice may lay the groundwork for spiritual realization, but it is by no means indistinguishable from it.
While there is no point speculating about Alexander's private insights, one thing can be certain: he left us a definite procedure with a practical, concrete purpose—not a transcendental one. Yet Kingsley's introduction continually implies the Alexander Technique is an essentially spiritual practice with heavenly fruit. Disparaging the core concepts that constitute the Alexander Technique, he invites us instead to simply "surrender," "let go in faith," and blindly trust that its real essence—nothing less than Wu Wei—will be transmitted through the "rare, "unconditional" touch of the teacher.
The second, more obvious reason Alexander has been so misunderstood is that he rarely wrote concisely, and in any case, recognition and conception of the primary control can never be refined through words, but only through unfamiliar sensory experiences—either reasoned out, as Alexander did, or in the hands of a good teacher. Hence there is more than a kernel of truth to Kingsley's view of the "supreme value of guidance with the hands;" yet I differ from him in that I insist the Alexander Technique cannot be divorced from intellectual understanding and, indeed, conception.
The Use of the Self and Alexander's other works certainly were not without their flaws, but at their best they illuminate concepts which are nuanced, rich, and useful when applied. Primary control, direction and inhibition are three such concepts. Whatever their flaws, Alexander's books point the way to a wonderful technique, and they deserve thoughtful, probing introductions like Dewey's—not dismissals.
1 Like many other Alexandrian terms, the concrete meaning of "forward and up" seems incredibly controversial among Alexander Technique teachers. While I conceive it roughly as freedom of the atlanto-occipital joint, the term cannot be understood in isolation from the rest of the parts—namely, from one's conception of the primary control. It seems to experience it, one must discover it, as Alexander did, or be shown it by a teacher.
2 This is not to say there are not phenomena only some people perceive.
3An overemphasis on "letting go" and the like obscures the fact that Alexander always described the technique as consisting of stages or sequential steps, which in my opinion constitute the "means whereby" he wrote of.
4 "Use of the self" is another problematic term. Related to the concept of "good form" and "good technique" among athletes and musicians, it refers essentially to coordination of the musculature along reasoned lines, which is not separate from conception of the primary control. Equal and opposite is the term "misuse," since one's idea of misuse depends on one's idea of good use. Different teachers understand the term differently. Kingsley states that "bodily tensions and distortions become fixed and reinforced as we react to the general stimuli of living." True enough. Yet he goes on to imply it is associated only with fear, anxiety and distress. Again he couples this concept to the language of contemporary spirituality, trumpeting that it "alienates us from our own true nature." This is to completely ignore the point Alexander returned to again and again in his own writing: that the use of the self is inextricably linked with conception. No doubt, tension and imbalance are very often inextricable from fear. But there may be another class of misuse: one based on misconceptions about the body, unexamined movement patterns from childhood which have little or nothing to do with manifestations of stress or emotions in the body. I suspect one may experience profound psychophysical quietude yet still tend to throw their head back and down in relation to their neck and back, especially in movement.
5Kingsley writes that the teacher's touch indicates the "negation of trying and doing within the pupil." Even a token mention of guidance viz. the relativity of the body parts is nowhere to be found. Yet in my opinion this discussion of touch is misleading, since nothing like it can be found at all in Alexander's writings. On the contrary, Alexander stressed that the teacher's role was to demonstrate manually the proper relativity of the pupil's parts, with the means whereby of the technique; not to transmit "a way of being," nor indeed enlightenment or gnosis.
6 Neuroscientific findings relating to will and volition have proliferated in recent years. They may raise fundamental questions about the nature of self and will, but in my opinion they have little to do with the Alexander Technique, no more than they do with dancing or playing an instrument. If there are really recognizable activities Alexander termed "inhibition" and "direction," then his writings are timeless, since they speak from direct observation and experiment, not philosophy about "free will" and the like.
7 In spiritual literature one encounters, almost universally, the idea that there is no "doer" of action, or no "doer" but God. Hence Kingsley is implying that Alexandrian inhibition is somehow related to this concept, which Buddha famously summarized: "Events happen, deeds are done, but there is no doer thereof." In my opinion, the Alexander Technique has nothing more to do with this than does reading, writing, or playing a game. There may be "procedures followed, but no follower thereof."

My dad, after a consistent and very slow decline, finally had a pretty good memory day today. He has what I guess is a "run of the mill" vascular dementia. I'm far from an expert.
A bit more than 2 years ago his wife passed away in early 2022. I didn't know, at that time, that he had any unusual health problems. They didn't tell me about any mobility issues, they didn't tell me about some of the conditions he had developed, and they didn't tell me about the dementia diagnosis. When she passed my dad just stopped taking care of himself, and he spiraled pretty fast. He spent a couple of weeks in the hospital while we got him sorted out and I was finally clued in to how far he had declined in the previous couple of years. I was able to get POA for his health and finances to help make decisions. A couple of weeks later the doctors said that he was OK to go home on his own with help from some occupational therapy, and a nurse visiting a couple of times a week. This was in mid to late April of 2022. By early June he was getting some pretty serious notices from utilities, credit card companies, and others wanting to be paid. Dad thought everything was paid automatically (said his late wife had set that up), and had been ignoring every bill that came his way. This was when I really found out how bad things had become. There hadn't been a bill paid in months, his wife had been using HIS credit cards for HER purchases, and as I recall it there was about $11,500 in credit card debts that she had left for him. On HER OWN cards she had about $19,000 in credit card debt (I never paid that, my dad was not a guarantor on her accounts). My dad's credit score tanked, and was flirting with dipping into the 500s. So I stepped in and took over. I'd never had to take over someone else's finances before, and thus began a whole lot of change in both our lives. There were mysterious bills that were getting paid from his accounts, his cell phone bill was in the hundreds, there were debts she had created; some he knew about and some he didn't. I had to do some very basic financial forensics to figure out what was happening. The list of her dumb-fuckeries is sadly extensive, she was just a financial-fucking-idiot. He had a few thousand dollars remaining in his accounts, but he had a consistent pension and Social Security coming in. I started prioritizing the debt into utilities versus credit, and started getting him set right. It took about a year or year and a half, but my dad became debt free, and developed a substantial savings. His credit score is in the mid / high 700s again.
He is good enough to live mostly on his own still. I call most nights to check up on him, run through the list. "Did you eat enough? Did you take your medicine? Did you get any exercise? Did you visit with any friends? How you showered recently?" And on Saturdays I go over to his house to refill his medications, take him shopping, take a rudimentary inventory of his physical and mental condition, and I take him to lunch, usually with my wife and daughter. I take his blood pressure, and report it to his GP via an online portal. I do a bit of picking up in his house, maybe clean some things. Remind him about upcoming appointments. This takes up most of my Saturdays. I also get him to most of his medical and dental appointments, work with his doctors and nurses, and manage most of his life. But I also have a house, a demanding career (where I have a full team to manage and lead), a wife, a four year old, and pets. Everyone and everything deserves attention, of course, but these days I feel like I am constantly trying to pour from an empty container. I'm always exhausted, and I wake up nearly every night afraid that I missed something. Did dad take his pills? Did we miss any bills? Is my daughter OK? Did I hear her coughing? Did I miss something at work? Did I miss a page out? I have to get up and check my work phone. I'm just exhausted, and burnt out on all of it.
But today... He remembered my daughter's name, my brother's name, my wife's name, and even the names of cousins. He remembered his friends' names, he remembered his bills, and where he put them. He was even a bit spry when I took him shopping. He cracked jokes. He was in the best mood that I've seen him in in.... hell, maybe years? He understood everything that I was telling him, and HE TOLD ME about an upcoming appointment that he remembered. And man... I needed it. I needed an easier day. It is like a little bit of the weight lifted. I know that it is just one day, and he might be having these good days on the days when I am not over there to manage his home, but I usually see more difficult days. It isn't a whole lot, but tonight it feels like the vessel I am trying to pour from finally has a bit of something in it, it doesn't feel so empty.

Here’s a fun one for soccer fans (or just gambling degenerates like myself 😜)
Anyways here we go!:
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TL;DR at the bottom.
So, for those of whom don’t remember, there was a time where RT Sponsor dues were just $10 every six months. And when you’re thirteen years old, without a source of income aside from the very rare allowance your mom gives you, $10 is a lot of money. I was neck deep in my love of RT content, but I was dying to take it to the next level with Sponsor exclusive content. So, I bartered with my mom to cover the payments in exchange for chores. Hindsight, she probably got the better end of the deal, but I was over the moon. I got that star next to my name, and that was all that mattered.
Cut to a few years later, they’ve upped the cost from $10 every six months to $19.99 every six months. But, people like me who signed up prior to the price change were grandfathered in and were still paying the old price. However, Chelsea did state that if there was a lapse in payment, you’d lose your grandfather status. Easy enough, right?
If only it could’ve lasted forever. But my mom’s debit card expired, and as you could imagine, this lead to a lapse in payment. Obviously, I was distraught. I was a broke college student, my daily lunch was a bag of microwave popcorn and a can of Arizona Iced Tea. I emailed support and begged them for help, but they told me there was nothing they could do. I told my mom what had happened, and how sad I was, but she insisted I should call and ask to be transferred to whomever was in change. That there had to be someone who could change the price back. I called, got to the supervisor, and they told me the same thing: they couldn’t do anything to help me, and that they were sorry for my predicament. I blamed myself, and wallowed in my self-loathing for a few days.
Imagine my surprise when I’m having dinner with my parents, and I’m telling my dad this whole story, when my mom tells me she’s going to straighten it out. The exchange goes like this:
Mom: It’ll be okay, honey. I’m going to fix this. Me: Wait, what does that mean? Mom: Don’t worry about it. I’m taking care of it. Me: I’m very worried now. What are you talking about? What did you do? Mom: I just emailed support, told them I was your mother, and I wasn’t going to let them treat you like this. You’ve been a loyal customer and fan for too long, you deserve better treatment. Me: … Please tell me you’re joking. Mom: I just told them the truth. You’re a good kid. And you shouldn’t be punished for something that was an accident. Me: I’m not being punished, it’s just their policy. Punishment would be banning me from the site because my mother is harassing their support staff via email. Mom: Oh it’s not harassment. I was very polite, but I made it clear that I wasn’t going to let you go down without a fight. Me: Without a fight?! Mom! What did you say?
Here’s something you need to know about my mom: she’s never one to take something lying down. Especially when it comes to her kids. The admin in our schools knew her by name, and knew she wasn’t one to be trifled with. She was like an urban legend. Whenever she felt we weren’t being treated fairly or got in trouble for something that wasn’t our fault, it would only take one phone call before the school was apologizing to her for their “mistake” and hope she would forgive them. I’m pretty sure she was on some sort of call list that immediately routed her to the head of school. Crazy parents wish they could reach my mother’s level. She’s capable of destroying people like a hurricane destroys a city.
So, I knew what it meant when my mom said she was “taking care of it”. It meant she was going to put the fear of god into them. And if they wouldn’t relent, I think she would have got on the first plane to Austin and “taken care of it” in person, which is the nuclear option. Your only choice at that point would be to move out of her way or get rolled over. It’s a terrifying sight.
She showed me the email, and it was everything I feared. It mentioned like ten times that she was my mom, how sad I was, how I cried, how wrong they were, how she wasn’t going to let this happen, they were going to fix this, and how this wasn’t how you treated a child (I WAS IN COLLEGE). Needless to say, I was horribly embarrassed. I needed to leave the country, assume a new identity, get plastic surgery to change my face, then make a new account on the site. The best I could hope for was that her email would go into a junk folder for crazy moms and they would never read it.
I was not so lucky.
A few days later, my mom shows me how she got a response from someone who was at the top of the food chain.
God strike me down, for it was the people’s Queen herself.
Barbara Dunkleman.
Her response to my mother’s unhinged email was nothing short of polite. She apologized for what happened, explained that her team, while growing in size, was still quite small. So they weren’t able to give my case the care it deserved. But reiterated what we heard from four different people at customer service: there was nothing that could be done.
But, Barbara graciously offered a year of free membership to compensate for my “distress”.
I was mortified.
Twelve years I was the girl with the terrifying mom in school, now her terror has spread amongst the RoosterTeeth staff.
If I knew this was how it would end up, I would’ve suffered through the loss of my grandfathered Sponsorship in silence instead of sharing my feelings with my mom.
To be perfectly honest, I actually avoided meeting Barbara at RTX because I was afraid she would remember my name. Realistically, she probably wouldn’t have. She meets so many fans and dealt with so many users on a daily basis, I was probably just a distant memory to her. But I wasn’t willing to take that chance. Go to a signing, introduce myself, then Barbara starts slowly backing away in case my mom is in the area.
And I thought I would take this story to my grave. But with everything that’s happened, and everyone sharing their stories, I thought what the heck.
Barbara, if you’re reading this, please know that I am sorry for my mother. Wish I met you irl at RTX when I had the chance.
TL;DR: Lost my grandfathered sponsor rates due to an expired debit card. My mom decided to intervene when I gave up hope, and sent a SCATHING email to RT support. Barbara herself responded and was very nice and helpful. I’m still embarrassed about this.

I've always played PokeRogue on my computer, but I want to play on my cell phone in my free time or when I'm not on my computer, but when I went to play on my cell phone for the first time and clicked "continue", my Run was on Wave 1, and I had already started a Run on PC and had stopped playing around Wave 30
Is this a bug, or are the Runs really different?
I checked and I'm on the same account I use on the computer, and the team I chose is also the same, just this Waves thing that left me confused

The website GotQuestions.org includes an attempt to construct a single coherent story about the events that surround the resurrection of Jesus based on the gospels. Let us look at the difficulties that arise.
Can the various resurrection accounts from the four Gospels be harmonized?

In the battle with skeptics regarding Jesus’ resurrection, Christians are in a "no-win" situation. If the resurrection accounts harmonize perfectly, skeptics will claim that the writers of the Gospels conspired together.

How is that not a win? Regardless of how the writers managed it, at least they would have managed to tell a consistent story that has the possibility of being accurate to actual events, as opposed to telling inconsistent stories that cannot all be true. Even if they conspired to make this happen, that does not make their story false, but telling inconsistent stories does absolutely make their stories false.

If the resurrection accounts have some differences, skeptics will claim that the Gospels contradict each other and therefore cannot be trusted.

For good reason. If their stories are different, then they cannot all be true. The real no-win situation for apologists comes from the fact that they are tasked with defending a Bible that contains inconsistent stories, and there is no hope of getting around that inconvenient fact.

However, even if the resurrection accounts cannot be perfectly harmonized, that does not make them untrustworthy.

The important thing is that we are all aware that the gospel stories got some details wrong. How trusting we are going to be after that is a matter for each of us to determine for ourselves. If we want to believe fantastical stories about miracles from unreliable narrators, no one is going to stop us.

The central truths - that Jesus was resurrected from the dead and that the resurrected Jesus appeared to many people - are clearly taught in each of the four Gospels.

No doubt the writers want us to believe in that. That is their religion. In the same way, Scientologists want us to believe in thetans. This does not make Scientologists trustworthy, and it does not make the gospel writers trustworthy.

To how many women did Jesus appear, and to whom did He appear first? (While each Gospel has a slightly different sequence to the appearances, none of them claims to be giving the precise chronological order.)

If any of them tell the events in the wrong order, that would be an error. It is exactly this sort of error that proves they are not infallible.

An angel descends from heaven, rolls the stone away, and sits on it. There is an earthquake, and the guards faint (Matthew 28:2-4). The women arrive at the tomb and find it empty.

In other words, GotQuestions.org has determined that the women were not there to see the stone roll away, despite the way Matthew 28 is written to make it sound like they were there. Matthew 28 says this:

After the Sabbath, at dawn on the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to see the tomb. Suddenly there was a great earthquake, for an angel of the Lord descended from heaven, rolled away the stone, and sat on it. His appearance was like lightning, and his clothes were white as snow. The guards trembled in fear of him and became like dead men. But the angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified."

If the women were not there, then from where did the writer hear about this event? Did the writer conduct an interview with the guards, or with the angels? If so, it is unfortunate that the writer did not record the words of what the actual witness said, and instead we get this second-hand account. It seems especially doubtful that the guards were in any condition to be reliable witnesses after they had become like dead men. Or are we to suppose that the writer was actually one of the guards, since GotQuestions has decided that they were the only humans to witness this event.

Mary Magdalene leaves the other women there and runs to tell the disciples (John 20:1-2).

This is really butchering the narrative of Matthew. That story mentions only two women, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary, and outright says that the angel speaks to "the women" who surely must be at least the only two women that were mentioned, but GotQuestions has declared that Mary Magdalene stayed just long enough to see the tomb was empty, but not long enough to hear what the angel said. Somehow she managed to get close enough to the tomb to convince herself that the body was nowhere to be found in there, while for some reason the angel waits quietly, and only once Magdalene is gone does the angel tell the remaining women what happened to the body. There is no hint that any of that is a reasonable possibility from reading Matthew 28.

The women leave to bring the news to the disciples (Matthew 28:8).

Not according to Mark 16:8. "And in their fear they did not say a word to anyone."

Peter and John run to the tomb, see that it is empty, and find the grave clothes (Luke 24:12; John 20:2-10).

According to Luke, this is not supposed to happen until after Magdalene has told the apostles about the resurrection. Luke very particularly says that Magdalene was among the women who told the apostles about the resurrection after being told about it by the angels. But according to GotQuestions, Magdalene still does not know about it because GotQuestions needs to keep Magdalene in the dark until Jesus appears to her. It is ironic that Magdalene is mentioned as being present in all four gospels, even thought the gospels feel free to omit mentioning some women who were supposedly there, and yet GotQuestions has to find a way to keep Magdalene from witnessing anything interesting until later.

Reditooorrrs. Good Day!
I Took over this account around 48 hours ago -
Date Range is May 16- May 18
Put a quick fix in place until i could rebuild the entire account with a new creative strategy
from this screenshot you can see that ADV + isn't doing what it should be, or was built to
the exact same creative is in all of these campaigns
on the top one with the CPA at £8 i introduced a couple more versions of ad copy and a different hook but minimal change
I've started scaling into the new campaign i built and reducing budget from everywhere else.
YES its lower spend than the other campaigns so not apples for apples but its done 5 x the sales of the other 2 tests on the same budget so a fair comparison in the testing enviroment.
i suspect i'll max out around £11 CPA since i ramped the budget up which is still fine for a quick fix test...
will provide an update in a couple of days but there is conversions out there to be had...
Don't sit and let campaigns burn money hoping for a better day.. take action and take it quick
in the time you wait to hope a campaign picks up you could have tested 5 new concepts and found a winner..
P.S ADV + is completely garbage right now...
https://ibb.co/Cvnpg1k
If you need an audit of your ad account feel free to shoot me a message
I've had 100+ messages on how to best structure creative testing the last couple of days
I'm working on a document to share on how i structure tests, iterate based on data and scale profitably based on a myriad of KPIS.
have a good weekend

Are you looking to open a new checking and savings account? SoFi is offering a bonus of $25 for new accounts who fund their account with at least $50.
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SoFi offers fee free banking with no maintenance fee or minimum balance necessary as well as access to many other features such as investing, loans, and credit monitoring. Benefits include access to direct deposits up to 2 days early, 4.60 APY interest rates, FDIC insured accounts of up to 2 Million in funds, no overdraft fees and a convenient mobile app!
Possible additional bonus of $50 if you receive at least $1000 in direct deposits within 25 days of account creation or $300 if you receive $5000 or more. Please check terms and conditions for more information if you have any questions.
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Are you looking to open a new checking and savings account? SoFi is offering a bonus of $25 for new accounts who fund their account with at least $50.
Possible additional bonus of $50-$300, see below!
Referral Link: https://www.sofi.com/invite/money?gcp=b6a4dac4-75a3-4783-bfe2-f7ef09e48f96&isAliasGcp=false
Sign up for a new account with the link and fund your account with at least $50 to receive a bonus of $25 credited to your account once it clears.
SoFi offers fee free banking with no maintenance fee or minimum balance necessary as well as access to many other features such as investing, loans, and credit monitoring. Benefits include access to direct deposits up to 2 days early, 4.60 APY interest rates, FDIC insured accounts of up to 2 Million in funds, no overdraft fees and a convenient mobile app!
Possible additional bonus of $50 if you receive at least $1000 in direct deposits within 25 days of account creation or $300 if you receive $5000 or more. Please check terms and conditions for more information if you have any questions.
Terms and Conditions: https://www.sofi.com/referral-program/?hidenav=once#official-rules

Are you looking to open a new checking and savings account? SoFi is offering a bonus of $25 for new accounts who fund their account with at least $50.
Possible additional bonus of $50-$300, see below!
Referral Link: https://www.sofi.com/invite/money?gcp=b6a4dac4-75a3-4783-bfe2-f7ef09e48f96&isAliasGcp=false
Sign up for a new account with the link and fund your account with at least $50 to receive a bonus of $25 credited to your account once it clears.
SoFi offers fee free banking with no maintenance fee or minimum balance necessary as well as access to many other features such as investing, loans, and credit monitoring. Benefits include access to direct deposits up to 2 days early, 4.60 APY interest rates, FDIC insured accounts of up to 2 Million in funds, no overdraft fees and a convenient mobile app!
Possible additional bonus of $50 if you receive at least $1000 in direct deposits within 25 days of account creation or $300 if you receive $5000 or more. Please check terms and conditions for more information if you have any questions.
Terms and Conditions: https://www.sofi.com/referral-program/?hidenav=once#official-rules

Just another fun little story idea I had. I am still working on Humans are the violent ones but I like to bounce around and experiment with ideas to see what I really like. I also suck at writing more casual stories, as they give me severe writer's block as I try to map out how to make a scene feel genuine in my head, but I promise I'll update that soon. If you like this story and want to see more, then like and comment. I'll gladly continue this series as well.
Start of Personal Log
Humans don't like being told what to do. They don't like being commanded, put in their place, or snubbed. It was an inexorable, inalienable trait of humans, at least any noteable humans, to go against any authority that they believed was against their interests.
Humanity would not fit amongst the stars. Few ever did. It was a trait of most successful species to be willful, ambitious, and to desire more. But once they reached the stars the new (and simultaneously very old) pecking order either quashed any spirit such species had or simply eradicated them. Countless tomb worlds and diaspora served as painful reminders of what became of the nails that chose to stick out. The hammer of order would always strike. There could be no compromise, the very soul of the authority that held the Jurisdiction together relied on a show of unmatched power, or at least the illusion of item.
In reality, the Jurisdiction was an old, fat, and lazy beast. It filled its belly on the corpses of empires far and wide, and sated its bloodlust on the shattered dreams of hopeful cubs. It had every right to, for none could challenge it: there were no new frontiers to explore, nor were there any other enemies to conquer. The Milky Way, as humans had so strangely dubbed our cradle galaxy, as well as Andromeda, had long since been warred over and settled for millennia before humanity had arrived, bright-eyed and with familiar yet otherwise foolish dreams of cooperation and prosperity. The Jurisdiction did not cooperate, nor did it ensure prosperity. Oh, it claimed it did, but in reality it simply took. The rest was just the peace that came with not being the direct target of the biggest fish in the pond. The humans didn't like that, but they had no choice.
Slavery was a common tribute. The Jurisdiction had no use for other resources: it simply took. No, it wanted those who could facilitate that unequal exchange, those raised in a world where the only morality was the one set by your lord. The Jurisdiction was held together by expectations, obligations, and dury more than any kind of shared dream, so when you were ordered to take you did so without question. Humanity was new: they had no niche or value that set them apart, but they had a penchant for killing and taking, so the Jurisdiction gave them a taste of how the galaxy worked. They killed and they took. The humans didn't like that, but what choice did they have?
Humans were strange. They learned, but not in the way most species learned. Most species learned to adapt in a passive way, to adhere to the world around them. They flowed like water, moving past and around obstacles and confirming to the boxes they were assigned too. Humans didn't confirm, nor did they adapt: they made their circumstances fit their desires. They would not move around obstacles, but rather smash through them, and they refused to stay in one box for too long. The Jurisdiction merely saw them as a particularly loud nuisance, but those who faced their wrath knew better.
It is said that when a beast seeks to make an example, it shall humble its rival by killing it's cubs. Children were one of those universal constants that brought entire communities together: the Sok’klar saw their hatchlings as gifts, shaped by the fruitful currents of the universe in perfect harmony. The Yarrack saw each and every newborn whelp as an uncut gemstone, ready to be shaped into something magical. Humanity oftentimes referred to their offspring as angels, or spirits of unbridled good sent by the gods themselves. Children were seen by most of the galaxy as gifts.
The Jurisdiction saw them as a lever to inflict suffering. It had become quite effective at enacting psychological punishments on those that stood up and spoke out. You dare to disobey? You believe you can speak out? Your gifts shall be taken from you, and you shall be without joy.
Humans didn't like this, but the Jurisdiction would have their pound of flesh, and humankind would kneel. And they did. But humans were patient creatures: most species who retained that trait of willful spit also lacked patience.
I had long since become desensitized to the Jurisdiction’s actions: it was simply how the universe worked now, as if it were a constant akin to gravity. Cruelty was the unspoken rule of this seemingly unending age, where our lives never appeared to move forward or backwards, only lay dormant. The Jurisdiction had been the unyielding authority that ruled the galaxy for thousands of years, venerable yet feared all the same.
And for the longest time I was just another cog in its wheel. My name is Kalnuracht Sedjuur-Noumar VII, and was the scion of the noble house Sedjuur-Noumar. I was born into what most would describe as veiled apathy, living a life that could be attributed to the privileged class of feared scribes that enacted the will of those above. I was an administrator and nothing more. And now I am doomed to be far less than that in the eyes of my former constituents within the endless administration. I am the only scion, as is tradition, and without an heir I am the last of my house, our name to be scrubbed from the records, worthless, meaningless, and forgotten.
I am merely Kalnuracht, nothing else and nothing more. I have seen from their eyes, the eyes of the downtrodden, and it makes my crimes of association with the Jurisdiction feel all the more damning on my worthless soul. I am worthless to the world, and this is my story.
End Personal Log #1
Start of Neural Lace Narrative Log #1
They came from the black like carrion birds in the night, encircling our convoy as if it were a dying animal ready to be picked clean without remorse. There was no warning, no list of demands sent out as civilized peoples did, nor was there either any requirement for unconditional surrender nor chance to parlay, as was done so under letter of marque: this was an unmistakable call for violence and nothing else. They sought to reduce us to slag and scavenge the rest.
So, as one would expect, the entire bridge of the ship was nearing a panicked state. This was not the actions of those practicing civility, but rather the common behaviors of despoiling barbarians, the kind that tore their way through the dark reaches of the galaxy as if they owned it.
“Wayfinder, what do your probes see?” Shouted the ship’s sovereign. He was an older Kar’Rowmach, an amphibious cephalopod species with a venerable history within the Jurisdiction going back thousands of years. Normally one such as him would be above me if it weren't for the fact that I was under the authority of the Jurisdiction’s seal of office. He didn't like me very much, but most of his kind shared the same sentiment.
“All dark, honorable Sovereign: the sensor arrays are wailing but the feedback we're reviewing is beyond incomprehensible,” the wayfinder replied with a certain restrained temper in his voice. The Sok'klar wayfinder swayed gently, his tentacled limbs grasping different metallo-liquid braille output arrays, the liquid gallium flexing and reshaping unnaturally to allow him to to take in multiple different sources of sensory output at once, with the primary navigation computer plugged into the cybernetics surrounding his opaque, gelatinous head and plugging directly into his tube-shaped brain.
The Sovereign cursed in Loskat and pointed to his bridge crew while I simply sat in the back, near the Sovereign’s symbolic throne. “Prepare countermeasures and spool up the warp drive, we cannot allow the amanuensis to be taken! He carries sensitive information that only he can translate and transcribe!”
As the bridge crew nodded and began fiddling with their own systems, I preened my feathered hide anxiously. I wasn't a fighter: us nobles of the cloth were the educated minority above all else, not those who waged war or partook in hard labor. Special cybernetics in my brain allowed me to translate triple-encoded messages that usually took a ducal signet codekey or above to parse, but even without that I was a skilled mathematician and logician. I had terabytes worth of knowledge stored within the hardware installed in my head, all well protected of course, but if I were to die it would still be a waste. I could only imagine the damage any malcontenders could do with it if they were able to get their filthy hands on me.
Suddenly, the ship rocked, and the gallium overhead display began to form crescendos like I'd never seen before. “Sovereign, decks A-3 through C-12 are venting atmosphere and our coolant systems have been obliterated,” the Wayfinder spoke in an almost serene voice, as if he was completely unconcerned by current events. I knew they were simply incapable of tonal displays, but it was unnerving nonetheless. “Once we jump, we will not be able to risk another until the vacuum of the void can reduce temperatures to acceptable levels within the plasma capacitors.”
“Damn them,” the armored nautiloid hissed, his barbed feelers coiling in frustration, “May the currents take them. What are our options? what can we see? This fleet cannot fall to the void today, not with such vital cargo.” My hackles rose lightly at the Kar’Rowmach referred to me as some object rather than an esteemed amanuensis of the Jurisdiction, but I bit my forked tongue. Now was not the time to squabble with the sovereign over who was what and what titles I deserved, not while he was so desperately attempting to keep what semblance of order within his fleet that he had left.
I could not blame the crew for being panicked either: wars were practically mythologized now, having been long since rendered obsolete with the rise of the Jurisdiction, and that felt like an eternity ago. Now, either being levied into or joining a ducal naval force was simply another career, more akin to serving as an officer of the law rather than a fully fledged soldier. Minimal training was required, most of it being the technicals of one's duty rather than any kind of combat conditioning, so expecting a fleet to actually be prepared for a combat scenario in a universe where peace was the norm was laughable.
“We are practically blind, Sovereign,” stated the Sok'klar Wayfinder, “our probes are offline, and shipboard graviton displacement sensory arrays have been rendered unreliable at best.”
“What about the particle emission array? Has there been a spike in radioactivity where we were hit?”
The Wayfinder seemed to think for a second, his gelatinous form flexing and morphing a bit before answering. “Affirmative, a jump from negligible to forty billion becquerels along decks A through E-5 on our starboard side.”
“Torpedoes…” the Sovereign hissed, stroking his barbed feelers, “Human Torpedoes. Only those primitives would rely on crude nuclear warheads.” He then turned to his militant leaders on the ship. “Noddos, Rel’ads: organize your phalanxes and prepare to repel boarders. We are bound to be assailed by those rancorous primates, and I want their skulls piled at my feet if they dare set foot on our ship.”
“Your wish is our command, Sovereign,” the two militant commanders spoke as one. Noddos, a large bipedal with multiple sets of curved spines running down his back, a pair of graceful horns sprouting from his head, and multiple rows of sharp teeth in his snout, bowed first, followed by Rel’ads, a marsupial with long saberteeth and thick fur. They both must have been fierce warriors in their own right to each lead a phalanx. They wore thick, semi-powered armor and held dueling polearms alongside their usual plasma casters, and seemed completely unfazed by the situation we were in. As they stomped out of the brightly lit bridge, I let out a quiet squawk of discontentment. “Sovereign, why haven't we jumped again? We are wasting precious time.”
“I am working on it, you spineless beaurocrat!” He warbled back, his feelers tensing in anger, “besides, it's not as if you're the one who will be spilling blood today, amanuensis, so flatten your wretched beak or I shall weld it shut with a plasma torch.
I was about to reply with something indignant, but the ship rocked again, this time causing the lights to flicker and the air to become… thick. The skin under my feathers began to blister, and I became lightheaded and confused. “Seal the damnable vents, initiate radiation scrubbers, and activate secondary life support!” Shouted the Sovereign, “Their nuclear weapons are rendering the ship inhospitable!”
I coughed up magenta blood accidentally, and I could feel more seeping from under my eyes. Some of the crew was in a similar position, but others were more resistant to radiation than I. The Sok'klar seemed completely at ease as he ran his tentacles across his morphic braille arrays before calmly announcing the ship’s status. “I've regained some control over our probes: ten, twelve, and seventeen are active and fully functional, the rest are either still malfunctioning or permanently inoperable. A rapid rise in localized radiation is also interfering with the detection of graviton displacement; we can't sense photon redirection, thus readings will remain inconclusive.
“Wayfinder, damn you, get me some kind of out here! We're easy prey until we can respond in kind!”
“Negative, something has gone awry with our processing hub, I am attempting to troubleshoot-”
And with that, the Wayfinder’s bulbous head exploded in a cascade of opaque lavender blood, covering the front half of the deck crew like a morbid art piece. Some of the crew screamed and shouted in terror before removing their cranial adaptors and choosing to interact with their displays manually. Others died just as quickly, unable to unplug in time as their brain stems fried or their blood boiled. It was a horrible way to go, having your insides neutralized by your own cybernetics, so I was glad I wasn't connected to the system.
“Cybernetic warfare! All systems are to be considered compromised, switch to manual settings or you'll be killed!”
The lights in the bridge flickered again, and the displays went haywire. The bridge crew, which obviously weren't acquainted with working without being hard-linked into the mainframe, moved at a much slower pace.
“Launch missile pods A through F and set to self-target after five hundred kilometers, then rely on their ballistic coordinates to begin firing broadsides! If we can't see the humans due to their meddling, we'll just have to feel them.” Shouted the Sovereign, “and got me a detailed report on the ship’s diagnostics readings. I need to know if this flagship is still capable of escaping or if we'll have to scuttle it and retreat on another.”
“Acknowledged, Sovereign, launching now,” affirmed another deck officer as he swiped across his own gallium output array. I could hear the dull thunk, thunk, thunk of missiles pushing out of their pods before racing off to their intended targets, then the mechanical whirring as the pods rotated to be reloaded by slaves in the lower decks. I was regaining my bearings as the many horrible sensations of being overwhelmed by radiation poisoning were beginning to subside, but I still felt as if I had been microwaved. The air was stale, the crew was horribly sick as well, and even the sovereign himself seemed to be on his last leg. I was beginning to believe that I might die here.
“Sovereign, a message from the lower decks,” shouted a communications officer, his chitin scraping against itself as he turned quickly, “they're requesting reinforcements, something about being overrun.”
“Impossible,” the Sovereign hissed out in a vain attempt to exude confidence, “We must outnumber the humans, they always go for bigger targets out of arrogance.”
“I've received reports that it's not just humans: the primates seem to make up only a third or so of the assailing force, along with some Phaeldaer and Vrex.”
The commander slammed his clawed hands down on his own output array in a fit of rage, obviously overwhelmed by the circumstances, “Then this wasn't just a typical assault, but something more sinister!” The nautiloid warbled, blood seeping from his shell as the full effects of the radiation took hold, “Get Rel’ads on the line, have him divert all spare lances to the lower decks or else we'll lose the only offensive capabilities we can use.”
“Rel'ads has gone dark, Sovereign, his vitals are critical.”
“Then either get me Rel'ads tail-leader or get me Noddos!” He screamed in rage, “don't give me this nonsense! If we don't pick it up we're all going to die, is that what you want?”
“No, Sovereign, I'm simply overwhelmed-”
“We're all overwhelmed! By the tides, I'm dying of radiation poisoning you nincompoop! Get me something I can work with!”
The officer didn't even acknowledge the Sovereign after that, simply turning back to his display. Eventually, the Sovereign was able to get Noddos on the line.
“Sovereign, two thirds of my phalanxes have been decimated by combat with the primitives and the radiation, the rest are in shambles. We must retreat and fortify elsewhere!”
“Then the ship is compromised! Rel'ads is unresponsive and the lower decks are swarming with intruders. We must evacuate the amanuensis to another ship.”
Just as the Sovereign spoke, I heard several gentle thumps rattle against the bridge’s door, and it made me uneasy. Some of the bridge crew seemed to feel the same, as they looked incredibly nervous and some even drew their sidearms. Just as the sovereign turned to give further orders, the door blew inward with a deafening explosion, followed by shouting and gunfire. Several of the bridge officers were dispatched quickly, brain matter and blood splattering against the delicate electronics. Others were shot in the legs, the torso, or in any other exotic yet non-vital body parts. The humans poured in, brandishing primitive ballistic firearms and jury-rigged energy weapons while wearing scavenged, legion-grade powered armor.
The Sovereign was the next to go, but he wasn't afforded an honorable death. He was shot along the arm with a particularly potent plasma caster, burning off his clawed hand and cauterizing the wound, the acrid smell of roasting chitin filling the already hot and cramped bridge. He fell back against his output array, the gallium reaching new highs and lows as more diagnostics and casualty reports were delivered, and he clutched his stump angrily. “I'll burn every last one of you in the foundries! I'll tie you to stakes, cover you in wax and set you alight! Your screams will be broadcasted all over the galaxy!”
One human warrior stomped up and slammed the butt of his rifle into the sovereign’s face, shattering his facial plates and causing blue blood to splatter across his section of the bridge. “Shut the fuck up, you mutant lobster,” the human said before dragging him by both antennae towards the center of the bridge and receiving a stained breeching axe from one of his comrades. “Emmanuel, start recording. We need proof.”
The other human nodded and pressed a button on his armor before lifting up his gun again. The rest of the humans fanned out, holding everyone else at gunpoint. I tried to get up and sneak out, but a human grabbed me by my neck and nearly wrung it out as he forced me to my knees and pointed a sidearm to my skull. “Get down, you piece of shit, before I blow your brains out too.”
“Damnable primate,” I hissed, but he bashed me in my skull with the base of his sidearm’s grip and sent me sprawling, making my already pounding headache worse. Another human shouted at him in a language I didn't recognize, but he sounded furious. The first brought me back up to my knees again, and I complies with a hiss and a groan, blood still leaking from my eyes and mouth and my world was spinning.
The Sovereign struggled, but he was weak from the radiation poisoning and he couldn't exactly resist on account of his lost arm. The human with the breaching ax kicked the Sovereign down and forced him to kneel before lifting up the breeching ax and splitting his chitinous head down the middle with one powerful swing, sending more blood and brains across the floor. “Execution confirmed, take his antennae just in case and we've got ourselves a bounty. Now all we need is that ugly cat’s teeth and the fat hedgehog-thing’s grimy spines and we'll be in business. Although, they do have skulls… we might as well just take their heads.”
The real horror of the situation dawned on me at that moment: they were going to kill us all, or maybe worse. They mentioned a bounty for the commanders, and multiple of the higher ranking ship officers were already dead, their brains splattered against the walls or their bodies torn apart by gunfire. I wasn't dead yet, but that didn't mean much since I wasn't an immediate threat.
“Alright, round them up and bring all the grunts to the hanger bay, then kill the rest,” the leader of the humans said in such a lackadaisical manner that his complete disregard for life almost made me sick… almost. I had seen worse from the Jurisdiction before, but usually that was from me delivering some kind of ordered judgment on a world that had sinned against order. I might have simply been the messenger, but I had seen many of the outcomes. “And make sure to collect whatever proof of bounties you can, we'll need to deliver them to the office to get cashed out. Don't let this be a repeat of last time where Juarez fucking forgot to take a few heads and it ended up cutting our profits in half, the fucking retard.”
Some of the humans chuckled at that as they dragged more of the senior officers away, out of the room and into the hall,where I heard gunshots. The rest of the bridge crew froze in place, different fear instincts kicking in. The remaining Sok'klar corralled together into what seemed to be a singular, semi-congealed mass as if to try and trick the humans into believing that they were much bigger and much more threatening than they actually were. The one Thei’chi on the bridge, an ensign who had clearly thought this would be a simple mission, bore her curved fangs at the humans and growled as they approached, her hackles completely vertical and her eyes dilated. They quickly muzzled and bound her before beating her over the head with a gun stock, sending her sprawling onto the ground. Many others simply cooperated, eyes wide and yet simultaneously empty, as if they couldn't quite process that the ship had been taken and the commanding officers were being executed as the rest were escorted to the hangar.
“Get the damn messenger down to the hanger as well, we need whatever data's in his ugly lizard head, then we can decide on what to do with him.”
I spat at him in spite, as if to try and seem brave, but it was clearly an empty gesture. “You won't get anything, primate! You couldn't possibly crack the encryption!”
The human holding me seemed to wind up for another swing, but the commanding officer simply held up his hand to stop my tormentor before strolling over to me. He knelt down and removed his helmet, revealing a beige-colored face covered in scars, wiry black hair cut down to the scalp, and multiple tattoos. “You're really fucking mouthy for a hostage,” he said before punching me across my beak faster than I could register. I heard a sharp crack as his fist connected, and my head spun again as the metallic taste of blood pooled into my mouth. “I'd advise you to shut up, but I'm sure you won't listen: you aristocratic types are so full of yourselves. Maybe I should have you flogged in the public square until your vocal chords give out once we rip those cybernetics from your head, huh? How's that sound?”
“It won't matter… it won't change anything… the Jurisdiction will hunt you down.”
“Maybe, but I doubt it will happen for some time: they really suck at doing anything that requires effort, even when they're mad enough. They just keep sending their rabid lapdogs to try and smoke us out, and they always end up full of holes,” the human officer said with a smirk, his yellowish-white teeth and green eyes sending shivers down my spine as he drew his knife. “They're just horrible at their job, you know? You've all gotten so lazy and incompetent after being able to just take what you want without resistance, and now that you've met people who are angry and crazy enough to fight back you act as if we're committing some grave injustice,” he placed the knife against my throat, the flat just underneath my now bent beak, “No, we just took a few pages out of your book, ‘cept we've got standards. No kids, for one…” he seemed to look off into the distance as his sneer deepened, “but it's more than that, we don't attack the defenseless in general and we still win against you all in fair fights.”
I went to say something else snarky, but he quickly grabbed my thin tongue with his fingers and yanked it out, blood from my mouth pulling to the floor as he held the blade of his knife against it. “No no, none of that. Say one more thing and I'll cut that rancid little tongue of yours out of your mouth and feed it to you,” he hissed at me, pressing the blade down just hard enough to draw blood. “Do you know what it's like to see a planet turn into a tomb?" he asked me, gritting his teeth, “Do you know what it's like to see everything you've ever known crumble to ash and glass, all the life and the green stripped away leaving nothing but bones? I do. I've seen it happen to countless worlds, and my grandfather always told me stories of how you bastards did it to Earth. He still prays in its direction five times a day, to Mecca, but he knows the Kaaba is gone now, or maybe it's still there, buried in the bones of those who sought refuge there.”
I didn't care for the human’s nonsensical beliefs, but I did care to correct him. “I've seen it before, and I'll see it again. And so will you, it's inevitable. The Jurisdiction will always have its judgment fulfilled, there is no alternative.”
“One day, I hope we can rectify that,” he said, then he sheathed his knife and slammed my head against the metal floor with enough force to nearly knock me out. As I lost consciousness, I could hear him speak. “Take him to the Chop Doc, and make sure the cybernetics don't get damaged: they're supposedly more valuable than any bounty on this ship.”
Warning: Severe radiation poisoning detected. Flush system immediately.
Warning: Neural Lace removal detected, chance of neurological damage high. Proceeded with caution.

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I'm a 42 year old male, I met my wife when I was 18, she was 23 and we began 'dating' when I was 21, working a job I hated in the same place she worked (casino workers, if you know, you know). We hooked up at a Xmas party and started a very awkward relationship. I say awkward because we had some weird trouble having sex for the first like 6 months... it's odd when I think back on it, should have been a huge red flag but she was draped in reg flags the entire time and it didn't seem matter to me. Aside from that, when we finally did have sex she got pregnant... she was not at all ready, neither was I really, but are you ever? At any rate, I didn't have too much of say in it, she decided on an abortion and I supported her. We stayed together after that horribly shitty experience, our relationship was never really all that good, lots of petty fighting/arguing and really the only reason it continued was because we worked opposite shifts and barely saw each other which made it easier to sorta get along.
Fast forward a couple years, we decide to buy a house because financially it made sense (this is almost 20 years ago so it was still affordable at that time), she made quite a bit of money, mostly in tips (so not on paper), but she probably made 2-3 times as much as I did so she never really struggled financially (in her life I don't think) while I came out of poverty and lived paycheck to paycheck up until a few years ago (the pandemic was surprisingly good for my career). This was never really an issue for me, I've lived in debt my whole life and I've always had the optimism that I would eventually work my way out of it, it's really the only bit of confidence I have in myself, my ability to learn and become relatively good at almost anything. This was always a point of contention, my wife hated that I had debt so when we bought the house together we were asked if we wanted a joint bank account as most couples combine their finances with cohabitation, my wife scoffed and adamantly told the banker there was no way she's mixing her finances with mine, it was relatively embarrassing at the time but I was also just 25 (she was 30) so I went along with whatever, it was going to be slightly cheaper for me to pay a mortgage than rent at the time so I was in and she'd cover bills. Things were never that great when living together, things must have been good enough for me to stay but I only look back with anger now so it's hard to see anything good but I'm sure there must have been some.
Fast forward another couple years and I feel extremely pressured (by her and her family mostly, they're old fashioned country type folks) to ask her to marry me... so I do. We stay engaged for another few years, I have no desire to waste a bunch on money on a wedding but she's the one with money so we have the big wedding she wanted. I'll admit it was a pretty great party, I don't remember anything good involving her on our wedding day but I have lots of good memories with family and friends. Afterwards we went on a 'romantic' honeymoon at an all-inclusive tropical resort and this is where I'll get into a bit of what I've dealt with for years... our resort was gorgeous, room was nice, just a room but nice... first thing my wife did was complain, about everything, the bed, the fridge, the lights, the balcony... nothing was good enough for her, this would become a common theme for the next decade plus. We also did not have sex on our honeymoon, she was far too busy complaining and being angry for us to ever get in the 'mood', this would be more foreshadowing of what's to come.
Now, this might seem like I'm building up to her becoming really bad after getting married but that's not really the case... she was just as bad before, it didn't really get worse, it just became more noticeable... or maybe I just tolerated things more in the beginning. The truth is when I look back, there were so many signs, she casually put me down and basically treated me like a child from day one, something I just accepted because looking back, I was a fucking child when we got together... she was not really, five years my senior, and she very much took advantage of that dynamic. Over the years she slowly went about convincing me that the things I wanted were silly/ridiculous and that I should want what she wanted (the nice lawn, the house, kids, etc., etc.) because everyone should. I never wanted these things.
I won't get into details here because I could write a novel on the insane shit I've dealt with over the last 20 years that could prove this, but I did do a lot of research in the last few years and have come to the conclusion that she could have BPD with narcissistic traits... I'm obviously not a doctor so it's definitely not a diagnosis or anything but she ticks almost every box from the many many things I've read on the subject, so if you have a moment and you don't know what BPD is I suggest googling it. It's pretty terrible but it might give you a better idea of my life.
At any rate, I dug myself deeper and deeper, thinking that every next move would finally make her happy and bring me some kind of peace, so we had a child about a year after we were married. This is where it gets really tricky... I sincerely regret having a child with this woman, especially because she is not at all "cut out to be a mother" (her words, not mine) but her mother had been sick on and off with cancer for a few years and her older sister couldn't have children so she felt obligated to give her mom a grandchild, bad reasons all around to have a child. That being said, I love my son more than anything in the world. As much as I wish we did not bring him into this horrible world, he's still the very best thing to happen to me and I will take care of him and love him for the rest of my life no matter what.
I should mention, since I've eluded to it, I've always had self-esteem issues, goes all the way back to having acne problems in high school but my wife has methodically picked away at my confidence and self-esteem over the years, cutting me down to this very day... to the point that I feel very much worthless. I know that I'm not, I know I deserve better but another fun thing about my wife is her desperate need for sympathy... So, not only does she make me feel horrible about myself, she also manages to make me feel horrible FOR her... she's overweight, and I'm sure has low self-esteem herself but she has decided to take it out on others rather than internalize and try to make things better for herself. She would rather blame others for any of her short comings, I guess it's easier to convince yourself you can't do anything about it when it's someone else fault.
I apologize, because I feel like I'm a bit all over the place but I guess I'm just trying to set the scene for where I'm at now and give just a small glimpse of the hell I've been living in and how I got here...
The first few years of my sons life were pretty great (comparatively at least), honestly it was probably the best we've ever gotten along, probably because most of my focus (and hers) was on our son. Unfortunately, her mother passed away just after my son's first birthday, this was obviously devastating for her, not unexpected but still devastating. We're lucky in Canada because she had a full year maternity leave and was able to spend time with her mom. She took it very hard, and decided to stay off work for an additional 4-6 months (can't remember exactly). This was all fine and understandable, I supported her through all of it, financially and emotionally. Once she went back to work, this is when things took a real nose dive... she has always been a very entitled person but upon going back to work (part time I should mention) she decided everything was horrible for her so she was going to make it horrible for everyone around her. This went on for around 4-5 years (again, the time frames get fuzzy because it's been so long), it was hell. I really just plowed through for our son, I made him my main focus and I took care of everything. Without going into it too much, I sort of shifted gears with my job and focused on finding something that worked better for raising a kid, I got onto a full time day shift (unheard in the casino world) and we worked opposite shifts. It was pretty good for child care (that we couldn't afford) as one of us was always home. This made her more contentious... again, going back to the entitled thing, she felt it wasn't 'fair' for me to work a good shift, she should be the one doing that. I eventually worked my way out of casinos and into a work from home job (before COVID) and it was great, she could work whatever shift she had to and I would always be around for our son.
Fast forward again, my son's in school, she's still super angry at life and making things hellish but I do my best to make it good for our son. It's difficult to keep a smile on with him while putting up with temper tantrums and fits from my wife... yes, we had a toddler and she was the one who threw fits. For an example, I can recall one specific Xmas where my son and I were playing video games which is his biggest interest, something she absolutely hates, and she made a few comments about how we should be doing family things together for Xmas (it was Xmas eve), so my son and I got off the computer and played a board game in the living room... nice and wholesome fun I thought. My wife throws a fit, full on screaming and slamming things around, I don't even remember what for exactly, it happens so often I can't keep track anymore. Her temper tantrum ends with her storming off and slamming the door to her room. I'll never forget looking at my son right after, him tearing up a bit and asking me "what is wrong mom?" and I just said "I'm really sorry buddy, I don't know" and we hugged... I cried a lot about that that night, one of many times I would have to apologize for her and the way she acts around him. This is just one small example and a terrible Xmas memory that I'll always have, hopefully my son won't. I think the worst part of these 'tantrums' is that she can almost always justify them, only to herself really but usually by blaming me or my son for "making her so upset" or worse, blaming some inanimate object for "not working how it should".
Fast forward to now(ish)... I've basically lived in my basement for the last 5 years, my office and bedroom are there, I stay down there to avoid my wife as much as possible but it feels like a prison cell now. I've retreated from life in general over the years too, I've always been a pretty anti-social introvert, I prefer quiet one on one conversations rather than group settings. Most of my 'friends' over the last 10-15 years revolved around my job (casinos take over your life people, for real) and my wife, I slowly lost any friends that had no connection to her. This was partially due to me retreating and the fact that my wife would insert herself into any friendship that was just mine to the point that I sort shut those people out to avoid them having to deal with her. Sadly, I don't have friends anymore (didn't have many to begin with but still), my son is essentially my only friend and because I work from home by myself I rarely talk to any other adults. My wife and I talk only when necessary... I cannot make eye contact with her anymore. This is probably needless to say but we haven't had sex in over 6 and a half years and I don't cheat, I don't have the confidence, so I've just accepted that I'm celibate now.
One other area of contention that I feel I should explain since I've mentioned it already, through the pandemic there was a serious power shift, financially speaking. She essentially lost her job and is now in a lower paying part time job (more realistic pay compared to her previous job), whereas I made a couple job changes that bumped me up well ahead of her. For comparison, the salaries essentially flipped, almost exactly... to where I make 2-3 times what she makes. This has become an area of contention because this was something she was able to lord over me for the majority of our relationship, she spent money freely while I paid the mortgage and barely ate for the first 5 years we lived in the house but now, for the first time in her life she has to pay attention to her finances and watch her spending... she does not like this so it's just another thing to constantly complain about and make passive aggressive comments about the things that 'dad' can afford to do/buy but doesn't (mainly because I'm paying the mortgage and all the bills now while finally paying down some debt).
Oh, I should probably also mention that it's a regular thing for her to insult me and put me down in front of our son and on flip side of that she also uses him to garner sympathy from me ("shouldn't daddy feel bad mommy has to go to work?") it's very frustrating because I just want to protect my kid but I guess she knows that.
Again, I'll apologize for how disjointed this all is... the more I type, the more I think about shit to type... like I mentioned, I could write a novel on this, mostly because I have no real outlet, just sit in my basement talking to myself about it all... or I guess stewing in it.
So, I guess I should try to finish off with what exactly the advice is that I'm seeking... I essentially hate my wife, the word I use often is 'despise' and over the years we've had brief conversations where I've told her that "I'm done and I'm just here for the kid" and unfortunately she took this as push to work on our marriage harder and 'fix' things, far too little, too late. She makes me feel like the worse person in the world and yet I just can't bring myself to say to her face that I want a divorce... I feel sorry for her, fuck so much so that I bought a house with her, married her, and had a fucking kid with her... I'm sure that's not the case, I must have loved her at one point but I just can't see it anymore. I don't know why I can't say it to her, why I can't just end this... I'm so worried about how she'll react, what she'll do to me, to my kid... how she'll try and turn him against me. I'm just paralyzed with the fear of what could/will happen if I tell her we're getting a divorce.
I've made plans over the last few years to move out, rent an apartment for me and my kid and just continue to pay her bills until we can sell the house and split the profit. I can't afford to do this, it would cause me to go back into debt but I do not care, it would be worth it to get away from her. I have set deadline after deadline... "I'll do it after Xmas" or "after her birthday" or "before my birthday" and these days come and go and I just can't do it... I don't know what the hell is wrong with me, it's like I just don't want to hurt her, even though I'm hurting her by not ending things and she definitely doesn't give a shit about hurting me... I just don't want to face her and deal with it and how she will make the aftermath hell.. and I worry so much about my son, it would have been so much better for him if I would have divorced her years ago, he's fucking 10 now... another fear is having to explain it to him but we're setting a horrible example. One of my wife's favourite ways to use our son against me, is planting it in his head that "family is all that matters", focusing specifically on our little family, and how we have to "stick together no matter what, that's what family does". It's such an underhanded way to prep him for hating me because I'm "breaking up our family".
I would appreciate any advice on how the hell I can get over my paralyzing fear and just end this marriage or maybe you wanna come over and end it for me? I'm at a point where I'd take that... as I mentioned I've not shared most of this with anyone... so feedback would be a really new thing for me.
Oh, and please feel free to call me chicken shit, and tell me I just need to grow a pair and get this done... it's the same thing I've been saying to myself for years, not helpful but I understand the sentiment.
Shit... I'm sorry, this turned into a novel. Thank you.

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