This is the most confused I've been in ages guys.
On paper the Xiaomi 14 is perfect but my only niggling issue is the thermals of the small form factor + 8gen 3
The other 2 options are great too (I don't care about the camera) but, they don't have usb 3.2
What is Xiaomi doing to us?
I also getting 30% discounts on any samsung, but i simply cannot roll back to ancient wired charging.
Help me :***

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92 Hours After the First Round of Interloper Interrogations. UNAFS Perseverance (HSR) - Shuttlecraft - 01. En Route to the New Lorisa Forests LZ.
Lysara
“Touching down in ten seconds.” I announced, my voice emanating from the encounter suit’s speakers in a language that, until just days ago, was an enigma.
Yet in a matter of days, this deceptively simple translation suite, a triumph of xenolinguistics, was now able to match my tone perhaps better than ever before.
Which explained exactly why Evina had responded in the way that she did. “Nervous, Lysara?” She offered in a snide, yet well-meaning jab.
I didn’t respond, not yet at least, as the last five minutes on approach were more often than not the most dangerous aspects of aeronautics; that much I learned from the pilots and armed service members I worked with over the years.
It was only after we’d touched down, and the final safety checks were complete, that I finally turned towards Evina. “I would be lying if I didn’t say I wasn’t at least a little bit unnerved about this whole situation.” I offered, gesturing towards the back of the shuttle, as the both of us unbuckled and left our seats. The whole mission was already memorized in our minds as we’d already run through every plan and backup plan we had over the entirety of the flight time down here. “And to be quite frank, I’m surprised you’re taking this whole thing so incredibly well.” I continued, going through the final checklists on the deployment of this platoon’s worth of combat drones as I did so.
“I think we’ve long since sailed past the point of no return the moment you told me that there was an intergalactic, eons-long war going on, Lysara.” The felinor offered with a shrug. “A bunker with potential ties with that aforementioned malevolent cosmic entity is nothing compared to that bombshell.”
“I’d have assumed that the nature of the bunker, and this mission being issued by said interloper, would’ve been the sticking point here.” I offered, genuinely curious as to the nonchalant attitude projected by the felinor.
“Eh. When you’ve lived in the wastes for this long, you’re bound to have heard the whole ‘the aliens did it’ conspiracy more often than you’d like. Now I’m not saying I believe every wastelander with a conspiracy theory… but I can’t admit the fact that the bunker has always been something that radiates a really weird aura about it. I mean, compared to literally everything else out there in the wastes? It exists in almost this time capsule of complete isolation. The beasts that roam the area, preying on anyone that gets close, don’t really help out much in that whole weird vibe either. So yeah, ever since my first iteration tried to drill her way into it, Far-Reach Point has been a point of great mystery amongst the survivors of the waste. Which lends itself really well to the possibility that your alien enemies could actually be behind it.” Evina shrugged once more, before adding a cheeky self deprecating comment. “The fact that it’s been broadcasting all this time should also be a dead giveaway to be honest. Because you definitely won’t see anything felinor-made still functional without constant maintenance after a few years into its lifespan.”
I chuckled at that statement, if only because it seemed to be made in genuine jest. “Well, we can’t say for certain that interloper tech is involved in its construction. What we do know is that the interloper has some vested interest in the facility.” I shot back, attempting to temper the felinor’s expectations and keeping everything to the limited facts we had on hand. “Or more specifically, the individual living within it.”
“And you got all of that just by putting two and two together huh? Your mission to find this person-of-interest, and the weird anomaly that is this signal station.” The felinor shot back with a disquietingly critical stare.
“It’s our one and only lead.” I shrugged. “It’s either that, or we comb through every living felinor on this planet. So in light of this massive lead, my hypothesis is that our person-of-interest, is in fact, somewhere within that facility.”
“Eh.” Evina once more shrugged. “A better conspiracy theory than the nutjobs. Or rather, good enough that I’d buy it.” She grinned, baring her teeth in the process which, at this point, I’d become accustomed to. If anything, it was after hours of ‘cat videos’, as Vir called them; that I finally started to become accustomed to these fangy grins. Moreover, it was becoming a point of endearment more than anything.
“In any case, drones are online and ready to go.” I continued, moving the conversation out of speculation and back into action, as the rear of the shuttle opened to a charred and lifeless forest floor.
“Man, Vir really did a number to this place, didn't he?” Evina whistled out.
“I… do apologize for all of the collateral damage we’ve incurred on your world-”
“Are you kidding me?!” The felinor interjected with a devious grin. “I hate forests! Heck, maybe it’s a carry-over from my perpetually-indoors first iteration, but forests have always been a place of danger and death lurking over every corner! So yeah, nah, don’t worry about it. If anything, Vir did us a favor by doing this; so be sure to like… let’s make sure to grab him a souvenir or something when we come back.”
The felinor’s frankly erratic behavior worried me sometimes.
But then again, this was to be expected given the nature of cultural barriers. As such, I simply ‘smiled’ back a smile of my own, bearing my blunt teeth as best as I could. “Noted, Evina.”
It was around that point where Evina finally donned her helmet, clasping it into place as she began testing the communications suite with surprisingly little difficult.
“Alright. Can you still hear me through this thing?”
“Loud and clear, Evina.” I nodded.
“Right, let’s get this party started.”

92 Hours After the First Round of Interloper Interrogations. New Lorisa Forests LZ, En Route to the Signal Station (Far-Reach Point).
Evina
We were parked approximately seven hundred or so meters from the signal station.
Though that distance was measured from point to point, and definitely didn’t account for the obstacles and terrain that stretched from here to the station.
Despite that, and what my memories had warned me was a treacherous trek through dense and uncompromising foliage, the world outside was now anything but.
However, despite the constant mission briefs and the logical part of my brain telling me that what awaited outside was nothing like my prior iterations recalled… the power of several lifetimes were just too powerful to overcome.
That was, until the exit ramp opened, and I saw the flattened devastation that awaited me. The charred forest, and the open landscape, quickly sent any doubts incurred by my prior iterations back to whence they came from.
So with one of the greatest obstacles out of the way, and the raw and unbridled power of human-driven alien technologies at our disposal, our deployment out of the shuttle and into the forest was a piece of cake.
More than that, I now had front row seats to the shock and uncompromising efficiency of automated combat.
Needless to say, I was more than happy to be on the other side of the barrel when it came to this engagement.
Four distinct squads of robots formed up and ran out of the back of the shuttle, forming into cohesive units comprised of ten or so felinoid bots, accompanied by a whole host of flying, crawling, slithering, and galloping machines that secured the perimeter for us within a matter of seconds.
Upon a single urging from Lysara, we walked out, flanked on all sides by a remaining detachment of bots, consisting of five felinoid units and a flight of five more drones.
For the first time in any of my prior iteration’s lifetimes, I finally felt like I was on the winning side.
It was a good feeling.
And one I hoped continued as we made our leisurely march through the decimated forests and up towards the station.
The whole scene was just so… jarring.
Especially as memory after memory came to the forefront of those trials and tribulations from the lives of my first, second, and third iterations that had all made this trek several times over.
The massive tileroot tree that dominated the area next to the station… was now just gone. The same could be said for the thick pipewood vines that obstructed the path every couple of steps, and even the earltail moss that kept growing thicker and thicker on the front entrance of the bunker.
Most importantly, the air around me was now silent and still, interrupted only by the near-silent whirrs from the robots and the crunching of ashen foliage beneath our boots.
This was perhaps the first time in my life I actually enjoyed the devastation, a thought that was both ironic as it was troubling.
Regardless, we eventually made our way to the front of the facility in a staggering seven minutes; arriving in front of a circular door with gear-like cogs that were sunken into the facility itself.
“So… why didn’t you try blasting through the walls or the other surfaces of the facility?” I inquired bluntly, pointing at parts of the facility that weren't built into the hillside.
“Countermeasures.” Lysara responded, his voice resonating into my ears, a weird and alien sensation that still sent shivers down my spine. “Our scans were incapable of determining the detailed makeup of what was inside. And as a result, we have the be on the lookout for potential countermeasures against unauthorized entry. In addition, given the fact the facility still has enough power to maintain that broadcast, we can be certain that we not only have to worry about passive countermeasures, but active ones as well.”
“Makes sense.” I nodded. “Is this why you wanted my expertise to begin with? In the hopes that I might have some intel on this place?”
“Correct.” Lysara nodded.
“Well thankfully, you’re in luck.” I responded with a cocky grin, pointing towards a not-so-insignificantly sized hole drilled into one of the door’s massive cog-like edges. “Like I told you in the briefing, my first iteration had tried her hand at breaking into this place. It didn’t work out, obviously, but she did have some theories as to how the whole door system works.” I began walking towards the hole, as a flood of memories from my first iteration slammed into me hard. “So, just beyond this hole should be an emergency release mechanism. Apparently most fallout shelter doors have this as a failsafe or something; accessible only from the inside but capable of being accessed from the outside if you're willing to dig through twenty or so meters of solid metal and rock. This is the mechanism I’m talking about here, so not actually the door itself. My memory’s a bit fuzzy on the specifics but… I’m sure that if we drill deeper into that, angling the hole sideways so we don’t actually go through the door itself, we should hit a mechanism that can be manipulated. Now if you have some fiber optic camera wire and a master lockpick or something, I’m sure you can do it in a few days. But considering we have the power of artificial intelligence on our side… I’m sure we can do it in five minutes.”
That vote of confidence for Vir was rewarded with a ping and a notification in front of my visual field. The existence of a HUD was again, just as jarring as literally everything else right now.
With a heavy breath from Lysara, who at this point was scanning the hole with a whole host of scientific instruments, I received my answer as to how it was we were going to proceed. “One of the bots can be repurposed as a multipurpose drone.” He gestured towards a combat bot that was quickly switching from its main weapon, to what looked to be a seriously well-kitted out multitool kit masquerading as a hand. “We should be able to bore through this in about five minutes, from there… I’ll switch things over to Vir, and I’m sure we’ll be inside that bunker in under fifteen.”
The confidence was palpable in Lysara’s voice, giving me hope that today was the day that the burning curiosity in my first iteration’s memories would finally be addressed.
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(Author’s Note: We arrive on the planet, and make our way towards the signal station! All the while, we observe the tireless preparations Vir has made in ensuring that the landing zone is cleared of threats! Evina elaborates further on exactly what her first iteration had done in order to try to get in, let's just hope that this time around, they can make more progress than her first iteration! :D The next chapter is already out on Patreon as well if you want to check it out!)
[If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 97 of this story is already out on there!)]

"You should go to Hallett. We went last year and it was fun. A good track for Miata's"
My friend Gerry the Texan who along with his team brings several Miata's to races all over from Road America to Houston to Seibring. It's a great bunch of people who are having a blast racing Lemons. He told me that and it got me to thinking. We wanted to go to a new track this year and after the disappointment at Barber going somewhere and having some fun sounded good. Also Hallett is noted for having a smaller field so we could be competitive. I always say that Barber is more like a pro level Lemons race in that it attracts the faster and better prepped teams. Road America was like that too.
But first we have to fix the car. As typical, we wait until the race is almost upon us to start. There's the matter of how bad the car is bent from the last race where Manny hit the wall. They thought it was good but we need to check this.
After pulling the rear sub frame in hopes of replacing it we learn that a 90 is a bit different than a 91 subframe or a 2001 subframe. Supposedly it all interchanges but after looking over the differences, Youngest adds a few reinforcements at places the internet gurus say are the weak points and we put the rear end together and put it back in the car. Then we check the alignment. To my great surprise the rear camber and caster is spot on. I was shocked, but the crew did a great job that night fixing the car while it was up on jack stands. Using just a tape measure they got the car really close. Toe was out but the borrowed porta powers got the bent subframe where it needed to be.
We changed the oil and brake fluid, bled the system where we took the rear apart to drop the subframe.
Another project we attempted was to swap in a larger fuel tank. Manny who has been helping with the repairs found a article on the internet that said you could bolt in a NB fuel tank out of a 2001 or so Miata and gain a gallon of fuel capacity. Yeah, that is not possible. The tank has a hump where the car does not and would involve cutting a hole in the car which would be a bit noticeable. Not worth it for such a little gain. Good news is I now have two extra NB tanks if anyone needs one. A gallon would not seem to be that much but we are still dreaming of two stopping the car at certain tracks, stretching our mileage to only stop every two hours and 25 minutes and make a seven hour day with one less stop. It's not all about raw speed, strategy can make a difference. One less stop per day could potentially add ten laps in a weekend of racing at certain tracks.
After we got the subframe in and the car aligned Youngest pulled it all apart again. He was not happy with the bushings holding the rear differential in place. The rear has to move a bit so it is not solid mounted, it actually can pivot a slight bit. He felt the bushings holding it were letting it move too freely.
Once again we put the car back together.
All during this time Manny and FabGuy have been working hard on a new car. Manny got a little crazy on Co-part. First one Miata shows up at our shop. Then another. Then another. I started joking with the guys "Hi I'm Manny, I might have a Miata addiction". Yeah. So after a lot of looking we have three wrecked cars, one being a automatic that was absolutely destroyed. It had zero good body panels and even the front subframe was pushed back where it had got up on something in a wreck. I think the only things we saved off that car was a rear axle, engine, transmission and the hard top which was cracked but usable.
We then robbed enough body parts off of one to put on the other so we ended up with a mostly maroon car with a drivers side red fender, red door and silver hardtop. I say we but all we did at the shop was to take the cars apart, everything else went to Manny's garage where he and FabGuy installed the cage and built the car. They did bring it over a time or two to put in the air to install a few parts or when we aligned it. The build and fitment were top notch on the car, lots of nice parts went in, like a better seat and belts than we use on our Miata. Like most builds they were literally bolting parts to it the night before we loaded the car to head west.
Finally both cars are prepped and it's time to get on the road. Manny has a business where he uses two rollbacks and moves cars mostly to and from car lots and auction lots. So he gets the newer one of the two trucks and shows up at the shop Thursday morning. RacerGuy and I are already there and have hooked our camper to RacerGuys truck. I am leaving my trucks at home, but taking our race trailer and our camper. The plan is to hook the camper to RacerGuys diesel F250 and hook the race trailer to Manny's newish Chevy 4500.
The plan nearly goes off the rails when Manny shows up and I get to looking at his truck. Being in the business I can't not help but look at tires. His drives are terrible, two are bald, one is soft and one showing wire. I go to air up one of the bald ones and it's not having it. Air is leaking out as fast as it was going in. In Manny's defense his employee was driving this truck and Manny had not seen it in weeks. I had already loaded tire tools and extra spare tires for every truck and trailer in the caravan except RacerGuy's truck and I would have got a spare for it too if I had thought about it. With nothing else to do, we all jump in and start busting tires. Forty five minutes later we have four new drives on the truck and we are in a much better spot to make the long drive. I hadn't done any big truck tires for a long time, sold that part of the business. Still got it, just like riding a bike.
We find I40 and start clicking off miles. Manny has already told us the limiting factor which is that GM put a really tiny fuel tank in his truck so we are forced to stop every 160-180 miles for fuel. It slows us down but it's not all bad, we find a roadside BBQ joint that looks like a camper up on blocks that has a huge parking lot and a ton of customers lining up. Of course we try it out, the best BBQ comes from little places like that, not the ones with massive buildings.
We cross Arkansas and I think it was the first time I ever went that way westbound on 40. Came back the other side when we brought the box truck back where we bought it in California. We finally make Oklahoma and bent north to go to Tulsa. Did not see the Tulsa King anywhere, stopped in a Super Walmart and stocked up on groceries for the weekend. Hallett is in the middle of nowhere, so we are planning on eating at the track.
We get there and make our way into the paddock. This will be the first time we have every camped inside the track. They have a cross over with gates that close during when the track is hot and a tunnel for access when the gates are closed. The tunnel looks kind of tight, I'm happy to not test the posted height limits. It says our trailers should fit. Yeah we will wait.
We hustle to get the camper leveled and the generator cranked up. For the next three days it will run non-stop to keep the fridge cold and our lights on. We run the a/c but for the most part temps are very nice.
The next morning we are up and on the road after the drivers meeting. We go to Pawnee, take in some sights then hit Stillwater for some parts and pieces at a hardware store. We also gas up all our empty gas cans so we are ready for race day.
Back at the track Manny and Fabguy are unloading their car off the back of the rollback. It was nice carrying one and towing one car. They go out and practice a bit, come in and make some changes then go out again. It's a new build and everyone has realistic expectations about the car. We are all expecting issues as it takes a while to find the weak spots and fix them.
We get our car out and practice. We send three of the four drivers out and have them run a few laps. I'm about to get ready and go out when RacerGuy comes in and says he felt something pop. We get to looking and the adjuster is gone off the alternator. Look a little more and the bolt has broken off in the alternator. So we have a spare motor in the trailer but it is missing the adjuster. Looks like we need the adjuster, the bolt and the alternator. We make a few visits around the paddock to look for parts but none of the other Miata teams have what we need. Youngest goes into the trailer and in a small miracle finds the adjuster laying under the spare motor loose. He and Coach head into Tulsa on a parts run while Manny agrees to put me into their car for a few laps so I can get a feel for the track. I've watched a hundred laps on Youtube but nothing is like actually driving the track. I go out and don't push things too hard. It is a very worn surface with some patches, particularly in the groove of turn two. Manny's car drives a lot different than ours, you can really tell you have more power and grip. Their tires are a lot wider as well as having 30-40 more hp. They have been working on the car all day and just finished taking off the lines where they installed a remote oil filter, they were not Lemons grade and were leaking.
Just before dark Youngest gets the parts on the car. We also install a helmet blower, we are going to try to use the air to defrost the windshield. All reports indicate rain is coming Sunday.
Then it's dinner time. Our friends from Minnesota have brought pure Lemons art down in the form of a Chrysler Magnum wagon powered by a slant 6 that is mid mounted. It is a engineering feat and runs out nicely. Adam the team leader and I have been planning and they are cooking for us for tonight and we are cooking for them Saturday night. They show us up by putting on a feed with steaks and salad. I'm feeling bad about the fact we are serving hamburgers, coleslaw and potato salad the next night. It was great.
Saturday morning dawns and we are up and moving around. I give up waiting on a shower as the line is too long inside and try the outdoor shower. It has no roof, just walls. It was ok. The next morning I tried it again and it was freezing, no hot water!
I skip breakfast and get ready to get in the car. I want to get on the grid early as I still am not feeling great about the track. The laps in Manny's car did not give me much to make me feel really attuned to the track as I was learning both the car and the track at the same time. I want all the practice laps I can get in our car. The line up is me, Youngest, Coach and then RacerGuy bringing up the finish for the day. FabGuy is gridded about ten cars behind us and he is under team orders to take it easy to start the race.
We get out and start doing pace laps. Soon enough it's green and the race is on. A few laps in Fabguy blasts by me. So much for taking it easy. Going into turn 2 I see a car off track. I mean he's not a little off the racing surface, he's 150 feet off the corner and just about in the tree line. I wonder what happened there. I am starting to get the hang of the track and pick up some speed. Then I mess up early on and miss the line completely going into turn 9 from 8 and run off the track. I fire the car back up and quickly exit and head to the penalty box.
"what happened?'
"I missed the line and ran out of asphalt and talent all about the same time"
The judge kind of laughs, "keep it on the track" and sends me back out. Youngest has made it to penalty and looks the car over from my adventure in the dirt and grass and gives the go ahead. If you are going to mess up do it right at the entrance to pit road, it really cuts down your time off track!
I run clean the rest of the stint. I tiptoe around the corner I went off but run hard the rest of the track without pushing so hard I get off again. Then Youngest, then Coach. We are having one of the best days we have ever had at the track. Besides my adventure off track no one else has messed up. Our stops are clean and quick. Our times top to bottom are very similar and consistent. Something strange is happening. We are in the top 15 overall and since we managed to get put in B class we are doing very well. Only 50 cars at Hallett this weekend, the smallest Lemons field we have ever competed against.
Fabguy pulls off to go to the gas pumps. We are fueling on pit road but they are going to just fuel at the pumps this race. They aren't planning on winning anything so why go to all the trouble of getting all your gear on and doing hot pit stops? Fabguy comes off a little hot and the officials come over to tell them they were over the ten mph paddock limit. Manyy drives the car up to the penalty and Fabguy comes up and they are told they are good to go. Later Manny gets off the track and goes to penalty. They start in on him not serving the penalty for going too fast in the pits. "we served that penalty" The judge goes off "do you really want to argue about this" Later when they realize the team was right and the previous judge had not marked it off the offenders list before going on break. In a first the judge apologizes to them.
With about two hours left in the day their Miata is towed off. The engine is super hot and will not crank. All signs look bad. Later it cools off and will crank, but cranks with ease, signs of a engine that has lost all compression. Their weekend is done and Fabguy heads out to get a headstart on getting to work early Monday. The rest of us will pull an all nighter after the race Sunday.
I start doing the math and realize it's going to be very tight. We make our calcuations based on a normal 7 hour race day. Today is a 7.5 hour day which is a bit longer than normal when racing Lemons. I figured out the stints and got it wrong. We realize our mistake and run Coach a bit longer before we put in RacerGuy. It's going to come right down to the limit of our fuel mileage. We start planning dinner and cleaning up the paddock with about ten minutes to go when all the sudden we realize the car is not out there. We run to the pumps and find Racerguy there. He ran out and limped the car to the pumps but could not get all the way there. By the time we get the car pushed around to get fuel the race is over for the day. I feel like a total idiot, I could have ran another five minutes easily in the car in the morning and not had this problem.
But the good news is that somehow even after I went off the track and and then we ran out of gas was that we were still very good on the day. We had enough of a lead on the car behind us in Class B that we still had a 7 lap lead even after running out of gas. Even better our paddock mates in the Chrysler are putting a shellacking on Class C as well. Their Magnum wagon is running a Richard Petty scheme, they all have uniforms and the requisite trademark Petty cowboy hat and STP logos, only this time it means "Slow Through Paddock" signs and all. They actually shouted this out when doing the morning driving meeting when they were going over the rules. "STP, Slow through Paddock!" every time the officials discussed that rule in the drivers meeting.
We put everything away, rain is moving in. We are in shock about how well everything is going. Surely we will find a way to loose this race tomorrow. Will other cars be faster in the rain? Will we shoot ourselves in the foot and have poor driving and get multiple black flags? Will something break on the car which has been running great all day long? And who the heck is this Coach guy? All that and more when we wrap up this in the next part of this story. Stay tuned!

Love my steamdeck, got me back into gaming. Looking for a small build gaming pc around £800 that would be a step up in specs. Just need the system, no accessories . Is it possible? Thanks in advance
Questions
Is this a brand new build, or an upgrade to an existing build? *New Build
Please list any existing parts or monitor(s) you have that you would like to re-use with this build. For upgrades, a PCPartPicker list of your full build is extremely helpful. Be as specific as you can be here, including links or exact model numbers of each component whenever possible. *Basic keyboard/mouse
What will this PC be used for? Examples include things like gaming, general/multimedia use, photo/video editing, coding, AI/ML, etc. Include specific games and applications you intend to run, and any particular performance goals you have, as each may have different specific hardware needs. *playing my new steam library of games with mixed specs needs
What country will you be purchasing in? If you are in the US, do you live near a Micro Center? For other countries, please check if your country is supported by PCPartPicker by using the country selector dropdown on the top right - if not, please provide some links to reliable local vendors you are comfortable ordering from. *UK
Do you need one or more monitors included in the budget? Please list how many and any size/resolution/refresh rate preferences if needed. *No
What is your preferred and maximum budget range for this build, in local currency? Parts lists may sometimes have additional shipping costs. Please note whether prices in your country include sales tax or not, and adjust your budget accordingly. Typically VAT countries will have it included in the part list prices, whereas regular sales tax countries like the US and Canada will not. *£800 roughly
Do you need WiFi, or do you have a wired ethernet connection available? *wifi needed
Do you have any specific size or noise requirements for the build? *Small form build
Do you have any aesthetic preferences for color or lighting? Describe what you're looking for, or feel free to provide some links to examples that may help. Some people prefer an inobtrusive stealth build, while others may prefer a case full of rainbow RGB. *No
Any other specific requests or requirements? Examples might include a specific minimum amount of storage, or a particular CPU socket for a future upgrade path, etc. *just a step up from steamdeck specs

I've watched an awful lot of great series like The Sopranos, Breaking Bad, The Wire, Buffy The Vampire Slayer, The X-Files...And while all those on the list were frequently among the greatest series of all time, one series made a frequent appearance and that was Veronica Mars. For some reason, I often thought, “Oh, but this series must be overrated!” Or “it can't be that good”. Well, like many people with Buffy The Vampire Slayer, I was wrong. The series is probably one of the best I've ever seen, with intelligent dialogue, important and realistic themes. The series is much more than a simple teen show, it's also a series that delves deep into its storylines while tackling a very interesting form of storytelling. With my sights set on becoming a future screenwriter, I often take the time to thoroughly analyze the series I watch in order to poff my work, and Veronica Mars has a perfect place among television's greatest series. Season 1 remains one of the best seasons I've ever watched, and season 2 is still incredible, though a little slow on the rithm in the middle but picking up again around episode 16. I can't wait for the finale, especially as it's considered one of the best episodes of the series.

I really have no need for a RGB backlight, dimmable white is just fine. But I appreciate the low parts count with addressable RGB.
Just as a sanity check. if I use white LED I need a dropper resistor for every LED (not much head room with white LED on 5V) and I can drive the entire bank via one relatively small FET via a PWM pin of the controller? I'm pretty sure, but I don't want to shot myself in the foot.
Questions.
What are good jelly bean parts? Cheap, not too bright and efficient. Perhaps in SOD-323F form factor? I'm not good at marking good parts choices. It always feels like this should be more obvious.
Can I simplify the wiring? Perhaps there are SMD-LED with droppers built in?

Hi, watch this.
https://youtu.be/cKEkBgPU-1M?si=mxUbDAB5ZVTDyqU9
I'm a DIY hobbyist experienxe in making many things, none of them being electronics or programming. I was inspired by the map above and would love to make a similar version, except I've no idea where to start when it comes to the wiring, but I'm willing to put the work in and learn if you lovely folks could point me in the right direction.
So my ideal version of this map would be about the same size, but with lots of slightly smaller LEDs. 282 to be precise. I'd also like to incorporate a counter that can display the amount of lights lit, ideally in rolodex form, but an electronic display would also work. I'd also like the LEDs themselves to be the switch, push in to light, push again to release.
Where do I begin with learning how to do this?

Young Pecos Bill and the Legendary Birth of Bitcoin

Young Pecos Bill wasn't your average Texas teenager. Born under a sky as wide as his imagination, Bill had an unquenchable thirst for knowledge. He wasn’t roping tornadoes or wrestling with mountain lions just yet. No, Bill had his sights set on something far more elusive: the world of technology. It was the late 20th century, and the digital frontier was as wild and untamed as the Old West had ever been.
Bill had always been a curious kid. While other boys were learning to ride horses and shooting tin cans off fences, he was tinkering with old radios and broken computers he scavenged from the local junkyard. By the time he was sixteen, he could hack into just about anything. But Bill wasn’t looking for trouble; he was looking for a way to change the world.
One hot summer day, as the cicadas droned on outside his makeshift garage-turned-laboratory, Bill had an idea. What if there was a way to create a new kind of currency, one that didn't rely on banks or governments? A currency that was as wild and free as the Texas plains themselves? Bill's eyes sparkled with the kind of mischief that only a young genius can muster.
Bill's parents were as supportive as they could be, though they didn’t quite understand what he was up to. “Bill, why don’t you go outside and get some fresh air?” his mother would say, peering into the dimly lit garage where Bill was surrounded by a sea of wires and screens. But Bill was too engrossed in his latest project to heed her advice.
He dove into his work, fueled by nothing but black coffee and dreams of digital gold. Bill knew he needed a name, a moniker that would disguise his true identity. He couldn't very well go around calling himself Pecos Bill in the world of cryptography. So, he looked around his garage for inspiration. There, amid the piles of circuit boards and soldering irons, he saw names like Nakamichi, Toshiba, and Motorola. They danced before his eyes, forming a strange but harmonious symphony of syllables.
"Satoshi Nakamoto," he whispered to himself, a grin spreading across his face. It was perfect—mysterious, exotic, and entirely fabricated.
Bill got to work. He coded through the night, writing line after line of what would become the Bitcoin protocol. He saw it all in his mind’s eye: a decentralized ledger, secure transactions, and miners who would keep the whole system running. By the time the sun rose, he had created the first cryptocurrency, a digital miracle born from the mind of a teenage cowboy.
Of course, Bill knew he couldn't keep this up forever. Texas wasn't exactly a tech haven, and sooner or later, folks would come asking questions. So, he released his creation into the wild, letting it take on a life of its own. Bitcoin spread across the globe, from tech-savvy circles to the mainstream, each transaction a testament to Bill's genius.
Despite the attention Bitcoin garnered, Bill remained in the shadows. He watched as the world speculated about the enigmatic Satoshi Nakamoto. Some said he was a lone genius, others claimed he was a group of developers. Bill chuckled at the theories, knowing the truth was stranger than fiction.
As Bitcoin grew, so did the scrutiny. Governments and financial institutions were baffled and intrigued by this new form of money. But Bill stayed one step ahead. He had designed Bitcoin to be resilient, decentralized, and anonymous. Even as experts tried to dissect the code, they found no clues to Satoshi's identity.
Bill's teenage years passed in a blur of code and covert operations. He managed to keep his identity a secret, even as Bitcoin's value soared. He communicated with other developers through encrypted emails, always careful to maintain his alias. His parents, blissfully unaware of their son's double life, continued to support his "hobby," thinking he was just another tech-savvy kid.
As the years went by, Pecos Bill's legend grew. He rode the digital waves just as he once dreamed of riding tornadoes, always one step ahead of those who sought to uncover his true identity. And while the world speculated about the enigmatic Satoshi Nakamoto, Bill was content to let them wonder.
In the end, young Pecos Bill had done what he always set out to do. He had tamed a new kind of frontier, not with a lasso, but with lines of code. And in true Texas fashion, he did it all with a wink and a smile, leaving behind a legacy as enduring and mysterious as the Lone Star State itself.
One day, long after Bitcoin had become a household name, Bill sat on the porch of his family’s ranch, sipping a cold glass of lemonade. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the dusty landscape. He thought about the journey he had taken, from a curious boy in a garage to the mastermind behind a global financial revolution. He had outgrown the need for recognition, finding satisfaction in the quiet knowledge that he had changed the world.
As the stars began to twinkle in the vast Texas sky, Bill felt a sense of peace. He had woven himself into the fabric of history, not as a mythic cowboy, but as a digital pioneer. And that, he thought with a smile, was a tale worth telling.

At the time of this post 145 thousand people are still without power going on almost 6 days without power. Tornado wiped out our power grid in select areas throughout Texas (I believe the number was about 800 thousand people got hit without power). Here's some things I learned and a situation report of my experience living with a very large family of mixed ages.
Context: We had been getting hit with some pretty gnarly weather however business as usual in Texas. I didn't think much of it usually when our grids down they're pretty quick to respond minus the snow storm years back. So when I heard there was a storm brewing I didn't even flinch I always keep some very very basics, battery's, lights, water, 2 weeks minimum of non perishable foods, self defense protection, and ammo, etc. But I hardly consider myself a prepper anymore, but I know some people don't even have that.
I use to be really on top of my preps overtime, however my stockpile had dwindled, as did my thirst for knowledge and hands on experience/training. I just honestly wasn't on top of my game anymore, and quit taking this as serious years ago. This tornado really brought me back to reality, so this post is mostly for entry level preppers looking at some practical advice from a 5 day experience, I fully regret the fact I quit taking this serious years ago.
First Day: Around 6pm, emergency alert on phone stating tornado in your area, seek shelter immediately. Thought ok let's shelter in the master bedroom closet. Wind rocked the house pretty good, could hear limbs from tree's falling, within about 10 minutes the power shuts off, and glancing outside within a hour the streets flooded. The storm had died down, as did the flooding, and it was time to asses the damage in the immediate area. Got in the car, power had blown out pretty much every store/house within a several mile zone. Found one square zone with a few places that had power, got some fast food but waited about 30 minutes because everyone went there.
What I wish I had on day one/ and general notes:
Rain boots: The streets had not only flooded but was blocked by limbs in the roadway. Luckily our flooding wasn't too severe but had it been I wish I did have rainboots so normal shoes didn't get soaked, or some type of beach sandals, etc.
Chainsaw, electric saw, axes, regular saw: Would of come in handy if the limbs in our area blocking the road were any bigger.
Higher up vehicles: Some vehicles couldn't make it through the flood due to being so low to the ground, so take into account your vehicles.
More variety of quality flashlights: Electric Lanterns came in clutch, but wish I had more handhelds, head mounted, and higher end lanterns.
Battery Inventory checks: Wish I had not only more batteries cause you really do burn through these quick, but wish I had checked all my lights battery condition, and stored new batteries in waterproof containers.
Alternative sources to battery's: Not a huge fan of candles due to fire risk, but some not scented beeswax or soy based candles would of came in handy to help ration battery supply. Maybe glass lanterns as well for safety and ease of transport. Glowsticks would of been great option too.
Car chargers: Believe it or not some of us didn't have car chargers for our cell phones cause we mostly charge our phones at home, although we were able to share, wish we had this on day one for all our phones.
Fully charged portable battery bank, or portable phone chargers: If we had this we wouldn't of been out in our cars late at night charging stuff putting us at more risk for being possible victims to crime.
Quality of cell phone, and cellphone provider: Have a POS phone but keep putting off upgrading it? Don't. Luckily mine was good but some of our cellphone providers carriers had better signal then others, some of are phones were in bad shape and it was noted we wish we didn't put off upgrading it sooner. You can't predict how well your provider will do but maybe do your research, unsure how this works but now I can do my research and learn from it. I had 0 issues with boost mobile but other family members weren't so lucky.
Cash: This is obvious but due to us moving towards a cashless society its pretty uncommon, but this would of came in handy due to how many places didn't have power. You can do so much with cash.
Battery powered or rechargeable camping fans: I did have one of these, it even had a light but wish I had more.
Larger ice chest: Now we had a few, but they were smaller. We lost everything in our fridge/freezer besides canned drinks, I mean everything. We had just bought grocery's too, lesson learned.
OTC sleeping medication: We had melatonin, and Tylenol pm, but it was so quiet you could hear a mouse sneeze a block over, until the generators turned on. First two are OK options but given its only going to be cool at night, and we knew tomorrow would be hot, we took kratom to sleep. Check your area some states it's illegal, not recommending it but it's what we used. I wish I had stockpiled more kratom, I took it when I got the flu on top of C word to relieve body aches and found out it really helped me sleep and ease pain/stress. Usually cycle this 3 days on max, one day off to prevent habit forming.
(This is really for day two + but ill post this here cause I noticed it on day one)
Backup supply of my personal vices or quitting personal vices: I know this may sound stupid but I am fully addicted to caffeine, and nicotine. I picked my poison and know what I signed up for. Caffeine really? yeah really not sure if you know this but for some people caffeine withdrawal can make you really suffer, and I mean really suffer check out decaf. I was in the process of lowering my caff intake to 1 cup of tea a day, and quit soda. Was one month off soda before the storm came in, but had to relapse due to us not carrying high caff tea on supply.
But yeah stock up on your vices so you aren't going through withdrawals during an emergency. Was on 3mg per ml of nicotine and had to dish out 30$ for a disposable vape thats 50mg per ml at a gas station on day two to prevent withdrawals. So I was on way higher dose of nic then usual due to only being able to purchase what I could find, for reference 50mg per ml if you use that in 10 days thats about a pack of ciggs worth of nic per day. So yeah either quit your vice or stock up, I don't advocate hard drugs at all so this isn't for that but this is mainly aimed at coffee/caff use, etc. Instant coffee packs may be great for some people.
Battery powered radio: Can't stress enough how mentally taxing silence can be long term. We had one, but the battery port crapped out. Lesson learned, test your preps.
Backup food for your pet friends: Luckily I was pretty good on pet food but imagine if I wasn't, and this was more severe.
Water situation: Had a decent amount of drinking water, we had running water. If we didn't I would say I wish I had filled up the giant jugs I bought for flushing the toilet/doing dishes or running through a berkey water filter if we ran out of drinking water. I had bought 5 gallon blue jugs specifically for this years back. However I cleaned them out, and didn't refill, Lesson learned.
2nd Day: We were able to cook some stuff on a gas stove, luckily. People at gas stations were stocking up on ice, filling their gas cans up for their generators, and shelves were getting empty at stores with power only on some things though wasn't too bad cause the power outage was scattered some had power, others didn't. Mostly a waiting game at this point, most of the preps I wish I had on this day were the same as day one, but ill toss in some stuff I wish I had. Obtained a portable battery powered radio, the morale boost was real for everyone, even the dogs.
What I wish I had on day two/ and general notes:
BBQ style lighters to light gas stove: We had two but recently tossed em out due to being empty. Realized I had no bics, and only had one box of matches, feels bad man.
Entertainment: Board games like checkers, board games for kids, chess, basic poker set, etc. These would of been awesome and a great way to keep the kids entertained and the adults, the boredom was real. We hit local goodwill's that had power to look for radios, and cheap prep supplies and games, but no luck.
Third day: By then reality set in for most people, neighbors who could afford to do so booked hotels or bugged out to places with power. The generators really started up by day three, everyone was buying gas for them and you could hear them in almost every direction. Pretty sure some people had it from the start but noticed them more by day three. A lot of people were sitting outside the front of their homes trying to escape the heat. Ice from most places were completely sold out, so you had to really shop around to find any.
Finding news about the power outage day 1-3 was kind of hit and miss, KHOU news updates were pretty short and it took us some time to know how severe the storms damage actually was, cause we were focused on trying to get stuff done around the house and conserving battery. I believe at one point CenterPoint's actual website went down. Mostly resulted to local news channels, and nextdoor app. We couldn't watch live news and had to rely on when KHOU posted youtube videos.
Private security company's hired guards and they started patrolling certain stores that could afford the security, obviously to deter looters. Traffic everywhere was insane in every which direction during peak hours more then usual, PD presence was pretty high, more then usual.
What I wish I had on day three/ and general notes:
Generator: Pretty obvious why, had no experience with them but wish I did, and wish I bought one pre-blackout when I was more into prepping and took time to learn about them and how to use and maintain them properly.
Ham radio: Or something to pick up on local freqs to monitor radio comms for information regarding the storm and local activity if any. I think this may of been better then waiting on local news to post videos.
Day Four: Buddy had power so he dropped off his generator and gave me quick instructions on how to run it, how far away to place them, etc. By day four the temps really ramped up, and this thing definitely kept us cool. When you think of bartering you think of some post apocalypse stuff, but no. In reality you can barter during any emergency, buddy dropped it off free of charge but was able to offer some booze as a thank you. So even if you don't drink stock up on booze/ciggs to barter, never know what you might trade it for. Times are tough in this economy and I honestly didn't have much money to spare, family had to pool our funds together to get last minute preps to survive this, cause we didn't know how long this would really last. In certain areas they said it could be weeks. However the alcohol was a small thank you that I could afford and he was happy so all worked out.
Gas cans were sold out, and extension cord supply's were looking extremely low at local hardware store. From what I overheard they also completely sold out of generators. Honestly wish I knew more about electrical stuff but my buddy gave me a small crash course in wiring everything. You can't just plug it in and pray for the best. Bought the best gauge extensions cords I could afford for our needs, and the distance and hooked it up.
We ran one bedroom AC unit, fans for the dogs, wired a light, and a charging station. Also don't cheap out on gas cans it's not worth blowing your face off or starting a fire, or having it leak. If you get a generator do your research on how to properly run it, and safely fill it. Crime in this area can be fairly high we've had a few drive by shootings and other not so good police involved things. Read this book along time ago about post collapse security, so I blacked out our windows so when we turned lights on no one knew we had power. You may hear the generator, but from the street we look like we don't have anything going for us. My biggest fear was looters from people who were less fortunate or really down bad. We near a common site for homeless people as well so they foot traffic the area.
Generators are very loud, between that and listening to the radio 12 hours a day, I was beginning to audio hallucinate lyrics that weren't there with the radio off, and suffered from heat exhaustion. That and the fact we had homeless in our area and tweekers who might loot I was running off adrenaline a bit. 24 hours almost that night without sleep, and didn't even feel tired. Slept near my firearm until my family woke up at daylight and when daylight hit I knew we were in the clear and I passed out.
What I wish I had on day fou and general notes:
Knowledge of generators.
Knowledge about electricity/wiring them safely.
Security: Some type of physical alarm bell to put on the door like metal door knob alarm bells so it jingles if anyone enters to alert the dogs, had to keep the door slightly cracked so the wires hooked up to the generator would fit. So we couldn't lock the door, which is probably where my anxiety of tweekers coming in came from.
Day Five: Same shit different day, power came on that evening.
Conclusion: Just cause it doesn't look like societal collapse or WW3 prep your shit for emergency's native to your area or go beyond, idc but prep. They ain't coming to help for awhile, or at all if it's very severe...so it's up to you and your community to pull through. This was a wake up call, thanks for coming to my prep talk.

Whats up my dudes, we are back at it with another chapter for you all. We are getting the swing of things and have another chapter or two to start the main plot fully, we are just getting to know our leads for now. I hope you enjoy
Lets get this bread
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The movement from the nightclub to Stitch’s clinic was grueling. Typically lugging a passed-out HVI or some other sod halfway across the city's district would not be a challenge. With his cybernetics, Conor was in decent enough shape and could sprint ten kilometers in full battle rattle without breaking a sweat, but Conor had pushed himself and didn’t need to wax a few Voodal in his way.
Conor had heard that Kurlatra were dense, but his assumptions about how heavy they were came nowhere close to the reality of picking one up.
Whatever this woman's name was, she likely weighed north of eighty kilograms. It was a shock because she was a meter and a half tall at most. For Urka’s sake, Conor only weighed one hundred and fifty kilograms despite being two meters tall and filled to the brim with wires.
He thought a bit about the woman's build and realized why she must weigh so much. She had hips and legs that could crush a man's skull. Along with a pair of tits just big enough that they would overflow from your hands.
Conner was made all the more well aware of those traits as he adjusted her to ensure he would not drop the little lass. Her fatty chest and plump thighs would try to swallow his hip each time he did. No sentient this small had any right being heavier than his entire breacher kit, explosives, anti-rifle armor, and all.
If not for Brakul expecting this rosey scag to be delivered to Stitch’s place, Conor would have lugged her to his safe house, which was far closer. But no, he had another job and order to follow.
The only shining light on this impromptu extraction was that the Voodal did not follow him. He had been worried about that last ganger he had shot; they had only eaten one round through the midchest. At the time, it looked like it might not have been a heart shot, and since he was picking this bimbo up at the time, he did not have a chance to ensure they were put down permanently.
Conor took a deep breath as he rounded the corner into a dirty alleyway, leaving the bustling thoroughfare behind. Thankfully, the residents of Heavalun knew better than to mess with him or anyone else who regularly did mercenary work, especially when they were carrying a body—alive or not.
Those who stopped his type tended not to live long, so he was ignored other than a few passing glances.
After traveling a few meters into the alleyway, Conor stopped and tucked behind a dumpster. His feet squelched in a puddle of rank trash water leaking from the impromptu cover. While Conor was reasonably sure no one had followed him, a quick double-check was always good for his skin.
Conor did not want to bring trouble to Stitch’s place. He did not have the slightest idea where he would find another techy who could synthesize the cocktail of stimulants Stitch made to keep his broken body held together. Pissing the tech head off was not high on his priority list.
Over the next ten minutes, the only thing his thermal vision picked up between him and the main road was a few Zlit rats scurrying atop discarded food. Their fleshy tendrils groped the garbage and pulled it into maws of razor-sharp teeth.
The sight of them sent a shiver down his spine. Those foul little mammals were high on his list of hated creatures, having been bitten by them more than once since he was a kid slinking around the gutters of Heavalun.
Pushing those memories away, Conor traveled deeper and rounded a blind corner. The sounds of the crowd's chatter entirely vanished as he entered the backstreet where Stitch’s clinic was nestled.
The rest of the journey was only a few hundred meters and only required Conor to sidestep some used needles and shit; He also had to kick one homeless bum who tried to grab the girl out of the cover of his jacket. Usually, he would have just shot the piece of hreck shit, but with his hands full, a swift boot to the jaw got the message across.
With the bum limping away, broken jaw clutched in pain, Conor hammered on the metal door; its frame and the neon sign to its side quivered under his brute strength. Then began the worst part of dealing with Stitch, waiting for the asshole to open the door.
Conor waited until ten minutes had passed and received no answer. Then he punched the door harder, his metal hand denting the surface. Several seconds later, a heavily synthesized voice echoed out of the speakers hidden around the area—speakers that Conor had never been able to locate, no matter how fervently he tried.
“What do you want, Conor?” Stitch questioned. “Did you break more of your wiring?”
Conor sighed heavily, knowing Stitch had this entire block wired with multispectrum cameras and could see him a kilometer out. If this were a visit for his wiring, Stitch would know. The man was just being paranoid and wanted Conor to state his business.
“I got a girl I need you to check up on,” Conor said, pushing his jacket slightly open and letting the girl's ref scales shine.
“What another hooker pass out on a bad trip?” Stitch chuckled cruelly. “This is the fourth this month; you are getting soft merc.”
Rolling his eyes, Conor could admit he was softer than most of the other mercenaries and gangsters in the city's neutral sections. Having seen his fair share of how bad this city can be, Conor did his best not to fuck over those who were just down on bad times and were not trying to cause him issues.
Life was arduous enough for them. So he gave back by lugging hookers and junkies to the nearest tech head and paying for their treatment or the closest Zential clinic. The Zentials were more than willing to treat the downtrodden for free, unlike the other medical services in Heavalun—stitch included.
He considered it his way of giving back and maybe finding Urka's good grace. Perhaps the god might forgive him for being a general piece of hreck shit if he continued to until he did. But he would not know until he finally kicked the bucket.
His intervention was a drop of clean water in the ocean of venom in this city. The other locals were more than willing to pick those he aided clean in minutes. They might as well be a swarm of bealit beatles eating carrion with how ravenous they were.
“It ain’t that. Just open the damn door,” Conor growled, punching the door again.
“Hold on, you greased-up cyborg,” Stitch frantically complained, worried that Conor would break his door again.
Conor smirked, glad the strange form of tolerance he and Stitch had built over the years was still strong. At this point, it was their modus operandi. Neither hated the other; no, they respected one another's role in this shithole.
Both toles put them in harm's way and brought them respect and infamy.
However, Conor found the way the denizens of Heavalun treated them funny. If you asked the average COS or GU citizen, who was more brutal: a mercenary with a pension for hyper-violence and little regard for collateral damage—-or a skeletal Itelv doctor who regularly performs life-saving surgery? They would choose Conor ten out of ten times. They did not know Stitch like Conor, Brakul, or most of the people in this city section.
They would tell you the truth of the good doctor.
They would weave you a tale of a greedy, crit-pinching asshole and that Stitch was the type of man who would stitch up for pay but would just as quickly harvest your organs for sale, or Urka forbid he would stick some experimental tech inside you and wait for your inevitable death to retrieve his property.
The door at long last opened with a vile hiss, and a gangly grey-skinned hand forced it open.
Stitch was just about as tall as Conor. But his thin grey limbs made him look one stiff breeze away from taking flight, with only his heavy artificial spider-like legs keeping him firmly on the planet.
Draped over his pencil-thin neck was a once-white apron. After years of use, it was stained with blood, oil, and hydraulic fluid.
“If she ain't one of your precious hookers, put her on the table. I will get my tool ready,” Stitch hissed, jamming his thumb over a shoulder.
“I ain’t selling this one to you either. Girlie got tagged by visage, and I need yah to treat her,” Conor replied, pushing past and laying the blonde on the recovery bed.
“You said she ain’t some hooker,” Stitch complained following, having gotten tired of Conor no longer bringing him fresh meat to sell.
Once Conor turned around and was about to explain the situation, Stitch pressed a bony finger into Conor's chest. “I told you, I'm selling the next one. She is it,”
“Can it doc. She is a client,” Conor replied. “Or are you going to explain to Brakul why you cut her up?”
Stitch clicked his tongue but did not try to move closer. His glassy, verdant eyes pulled Conor and the girl apart as he weighed the pros and cons of allying with Conor and Brakul another time.
“What is in it for me?” Stitch questioned, tapping a finger on a scalpel attached to his tool belt.
Conor sighed, realizing he should have expected this question, but he was not the broker of deals. That was Brakul’s schtick, and he was running late.
“You can take her jewelry and any credsticks you find on her. Alright?” Conor replied, knowing Brakul likely would have made a similar deal.
Stitch nodded and slinked closer to the woman. He lifted the necklace from her chest and carefully examined the jewels with a prudish eye any good businessman should have. After Stitch activated his magnified eyes, his cornea glowed gold, letting him see the atoms of the shiny trinket.
The doctor grinned cruelly, letting his crystalline teeth show proudly. The sight was unsettling and made Conor grip his pistol, fearing the doctor would flip his shit and decide it was not enough payment and try to cut the girl up.
But he did not start to slice her skin open. Instead, he sniggered nearly uncontrollably for a few moments, then spoke. “Yes, yes, yes. This will do just fine,” He sneered.
Conor was unsure what the jewels were, but they must be worth far more than he initially thought. For Urka's sake, Stitch was drooling on the necklace and the passed-out girl's chest.
“Good. So you will take care of her?” Conor questioned, needing to hear an assured answer.
Quickly slipping the jewelry into his pocket, Stitch looked back at Conor, his demeanor having done a complete one-eighty. “Of course, I always have room for paying customers.”
“Oh sweet, Conor, you handled the deal,” Brakul said, having just stepped in through the doors.
Why Brakul was allowed unfettered access to Stitch’s clinic and Conor was not something Conor had wondered for years but had accepted it as something to do with their role in the duo.
“Yeah, and he will watch the client. But we had yet to lay out the finer details,” Conor explained.
“Ah, no issue, I can take it from here,” Brakul replied.
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so what did you think? a decent chapter or total trash? either way I wanna know. I will see you all in the comments. please don't forget to comment and updoot.
your baker
-Pirate
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So, if you’re just joining us, I work at a haunted zoo now. Since I’ve gotten some rest, it feels like I’ve got my head on straight, at least, so I’d like to continue where I left off.
I sat on the floor in the office after meeting the ghost until I’d settled my rattled mind (and realized I’d forgotten to ask her name, how rude is that?). I took a deep breath and got up off the floor. Walking over and falling into the rolling chair in front of the large screen of camera views, when I brought up the camera that covered the area in which I’d spotted her, she was still there, and it seemed she hadn’t moved an inch.
Sitting there, at a loss, I continued to watch her. The ghost hung around for another five minutes or so, appearing to look at a few things off-screen, though I’m not sure what. Then she walked off into the forest and left the view of the cameras. I wasn’t sure if she vanished into the ether or if she’d gone looking into the trees to look for something.
But that wasn’t the end of the job interview, so let me jump back there. It continued into what kind of animals the zoo had, with Andrew asking me how much experience I had with dangerous animals.
I took a moment to consider the question. “So, ah…I’ve been going hunting and fishing with a neighbor since I was sixteen,” I told him. “We always have to keep an eye out for gators, bears, and hogs. Then there’s snakes, of course…snapping turtles… Since I’ve lived here my whole life and been aiming for a job with wildlife for a long time, I know a lot about the animals in Arkansas in general. But good advice for all of the above is avoid them, so I’ve had encounters, but I don’t know if you’d say I have experience with them.”
“That’s fine,” Andrew said, nodding. “That’s an answer I’m satisfied with. Now, the ghost was the appetizer, Ripley; here’s the main course. To start with, the pay isn’t twenty-five an hour. It’s fifty.”
Staring in shock for a moment, I asked, “Are you serious?”
“Yeah. But that’d be weird to post online considering what applicants think we need, so I halved it.”
“That’s… Okay, why?”
“The animals are already here. You just can’t see them.”
I stared at him for a long moment, some disbelief worming its way into my expression, before saying, “Sorry, what?”
“There’s a chance you’d naturally never see them, or at least some of them,” he continued casually. “It depends on both your genetics and how long you stay on the job. I can naturally see six of them, but that’s it. Suzanne can see all of them, and more. Some are what people would label demons or ghosts. Or magic. Mostly you’d call them cryptids. The ghost was just a warm-up; I mentioned her first because it never takes more than a week to see her if you work the night shift. If you manage to handle her okay, soon you’ll be able to see the animals too. The more time you spend on the grounds, for weird reasons,” he said, wiggling his fingers in the direction of the back door, “the more you’ll be able to see.”
“So, this…this is a zoo for cryptids,” I echoed slowly. He nodded once, waiting to find out what kind of reaction I would have. I gestured vaguely around the room. “If this is a hidden camera show, will you cut me a check for showing up and participating?”
Andrew coughed out a chuckle and shook his head. “No joke. There are a ton of stories out there that have been written to death, pulverized until they’re not the Grimm stories of old and instead they’re Disney films. A lot of those stories come from what some humans have seen. There are dozens of other worlds pressed up against ours, and occasionally things come through by accident. If they’re smart, they’ll lay low and then make their way back when they can. If not, they become local folklore until someone helps them back. I’m just from London, but Suzanne is from somewhere else. She hires people like us for this zoo. Humans.”
Sighing, I shook my head. “That makes no sense. Why would she hire a muggle for a magic zoo?”
Andrew burst out laughing at that, and then waited to gather himself before he continued. “Fair point, but this is less about magic and more about animals, and you’re missing some information that will explain it. First of all, if I misjudge an employee, and they think they can make bank by outing the endangered and valuable animals we have, it’s easy to relocate the zoo.”
“Because magic?” I asked.
“Exactly,” he replied, ignoring the thread of skepticism in my tone. “That means it isn’t the end of the world if that happened, though it is a pain in the arse. But second…let me ask you a question. Speaking of reality shows, say the Discovery Channel put out a call to replace Steve Irwin when he passed. Imagine they had a line out the door,” he said with a gesture, “of people who thought they had the skill and natural talent to replace him, to take on everything he’d been doing his whole life. How many do you reckon would lose an arm, a leg, or their life, by the end of the day?”
My lips parted in surprise and I narrowed my eyes at him. “You’re saying people from…wherever…they’re just as dumb as humans, but they’re worse, because they actually think they can handle these things.”
Andrew pointed the pen at me. “Things. Exactly. You called them things. Suzanne and her friends grew up with them and would call them animals. These animals have dispositions and temperaments that we’ve studied for as long as there have been scientists. Where Suzanne’s from, they know the weaknesses of these animals, and also they’re in enclosures here, even if you and I can’t see the walls because they’re invisible things called ‘wards’. If I hire someone who’s got magic on top of all that, they’ll have almost no instinctive fear.
“Everything here is nocturnal, and every one of them is a hunter. Some of these things? Humans see them and they pass out. Not that I want you passing out, but I need someone who is scared of these things, who knows to stay out of the enclosures no matter what. Not someone who thinks they can train them to do tricks, who gets close enough for them to grab a mouthful of hair and drown them. Once, we had a night shift manager injured, and once killed, because they didn’t take these animals seriously enough.”
Thinking back to the Sea World orca incident I knew he’d been referencing, I remembered wondering how someone at that level of her profession could be so careless as I watched the video on YouTube. It made sense when he explained it like that. I hesitated before mentally throwing my hands up and going all in. “So, why put this place here, then? If they’re endangered and also dangerous, why have a zoo at all instead of just a small reserve?”
He pursed his lips, looking disappointed in me. “Ripley. You know that already. You already said as much.”
Thinking back through our conversation, I said, “The rich humans who pay top dollar to see supernatural animals.”
“Not humans,” he told me. “But people, yes, and they are rich, and they’re making donations and spending their money on a ticket here because everything we have is endangered.”
“So…”
I just let my voice trail off and my mind started to drift. Andrew remained silent, letting me do so. There’s that thing people say, ‘I believe that you believe it,’ which is just a kinder way of saying, ‘Bullshit.’ Parents say it about closet monsters. Psychologists say it to people who say they’ve been abducted and probed by aliens. I wanted to say it to Andrew.
But I also wanted a job. If it meant working overnight at an empty zoo, that was fine. When it came down to it, especially when I took the tone of our conversation into account, this was a zoo specifically focused on preserving endangered ‘animals’, and it was allegedly doing important work. Also, if this turned out to be the real deal and I started seeing the animals, I would deal with it, just like I would deal with an enclosure that had a lion or tiger or gorilla. If it came with a ghost and invisible creatures, I really didn’t see what the difference was, if I couldn’t go in the enclosures either way.
On that note, I’d like you to imagine a kid who looks at a roller coaster, watching everyone screaming and grinning as they go up and down and all around and they’re like, ‘Heck, I could do that! That looks like a blast!’
Then they get on, the first drop hits, and they realize they’ve made a terrible mistake.
“All right,” I sighed. “I can’t say I’m going to turn down a job just because it’s going to be scary. Especially not one with this paycheck.”
Andrew smiled. “Awesome. There’s an adjustment process for anyone working here, similar to a dog that gets adopted, actually. I know the general guidelines of, ‘three days, three weeks, three months’ in terms of milestones, until they finally feel they’re where they’re supposed to be,” he told me, “and you can think of your time here along those lines. I really think you’re a great fit, and once you reach the milestone of working here for three months, I’ll officially consider you our new night shift guard. And I hope you’ll stay with us for many years.”
I nodded and smiled at the flattery of an employer wanting me to work a great job for them for a long time. I’d never had a dog, but those milestones were well-known among anyone who knew animals, especially dogs. The first three days, the dog is getting to know its new digs, exploring, and decompressing. At three weeks, they’ve gotten used to their environment and are starting to get comfortable with their surroundings and the routines of the humans they live with. By three months, they know the rules and follow them, they trust you, and they feel they are where they’re meant to be. I could only hope to be so lucky.
I saw the ghost two days ago and she has yet to make another appearance (for those who are curious, I asked, and her name is Leila), and I still hadn’t seen any animals. I did hear one, though, I feel compelled to note. A growling roar sounded from the lake on occasion, echoing across the vast zoo, sending a shiver down my spine. Whatever that animal was, it sounded gigantic.
Andrew said there was apparently a group that wanted to visit for a birthday and they were offering a huge donation, so he let me know they were making an exception and that this group would be walking through the park that night. That meant I’d be watching people watching animals that, as far as I could tell, weren’t there.
It was anticlimactic. Even the three people who came for the tour just looked like people, not like aliens or something eldritch from another dimension, and I stayed in the security office the whole time. Andrew was the one giving the tour. I watched them spend about five minutes at each enclosure, the hour or so that they were there passing without incident. It was clear that they were able to see all the animals, though, since they motioned excitedly at each enclosure and spoke to Andrew, who presumably answered any questions they had.
If they could see the animals, that was that. There was still that niggle in the back of my head, from my twenty-three years of life never encountering anything like ghosts or cryptids, telling me that this was ridiculous. Waiting for someone to knock on the door, a camera mounted on their shoulder, to tell me that it was a big joke and they wanted to see how long I’d play along. But from all I saw, this was a real place with real, invisible animals.
I do carry a taser and pepper spray in my capacity as a security guard. Though it isn’t for the animals, since they’re in the enclosures; they’re actually for the rare instance of a break-in. Andrew mentioned that it had happened several times it the past, someone trying to steal an animal in the hopes of selling it on the black market. They’d been successful before, but apparently my predecessor Roger was good at his job, and mostly they left in handcuffs.
I’ll be honest, I’m not a huge fan of confrontation, but my job was to call Andrew and then confront the person, not kick their ass. That’s what the police were for, or rather, the people Andrew would call in lieu of police in certain situations.
Fifty bucks an hour. That’s the key here.
Andrew hadn’t set up direct deposit, since he was sticking with a strategy of waiting to see if I’d continue to work there once I found out myself dealing with the animals (I’ve decided I am going to just call them animals). Instead, I got an old-fashioned check after my shift every Friday. The number on the first check was delightful. I went out that evening and had a big dinner at the local diner, order my most expensive favorites on the menu and a big slice of pie for dessert.
When it came to the paychecks in general, though, I had this weird feeling of not wanting to tell my dad and brother about the fact that it was actually $50/hr. I previously mentioned that my dad, his name’s Nathan if you’re curious, works at a local grocery store. Our town has a couple food franchises, but I think its size is just short of whatever threshold Walmart uses to decide where to open. He earns $14/hr. and that’s after the tiny raises he’s gotten over the past thirteen years.
That’s not to say he’d feel bad about not making as much as me. On the contrary, he would be ecstatic for me and really proud. But, like me, he’d be suspicious. That hourly rate was the biggest hint that this was more than just a private zoo for cryptids. And as soon as that fat check cleared without problems, my dad wouldn’t be satisfied with reassurances; he’d want to come visit the zoo and look around.
I’d told him it’s a private preservation with scheduled (expensive) visits only and that it had only eleven animals, so he’d been appeased by me brushing off the idea of a visit. Also, I took a few photos of my workplace; one of the security room, one of me sitting in my chair, one photo of the many screens I watched, and a selfie where I was feigning sleep out of boredom, slouched in my chair with my mouth open in a faux snore. That let him feel like he knew where I was and what I was doing, and that I was safe.
But if I told him I was making double what he thought, my father would practically order me to quit. No job was worth my safety, he’d tell me. I was quite of the opposite opinion, however, considering how crucial any and all conservation efforts were these days. Especially with the steep extinction levels due to humans competing with other animals for space, not to mention climate change. Working in any job that helped preserve species and keep ecosystems in balance, or put them back in balance, was so important.
Then again, my father would also point out something I had realized right away: the fact was that I was working with endangered species that were not from Earth. I wasn’t helping my planet. To be honest, though…that didn’t matter to me. Especially after that talk with Andrew about why he hired a human for this job, I figured whichever dimension these animals came from had the equivalent of us, razing forests to the ground, clouding the planet with pollution, and leaving the animals with no avenue of recourse when yet more land was taken from them.
I really do hope to keep working here for a long time, though, and not just because of the money. I can’t help it; I want to know what these things were, and I want to work with them, to do the job of a zookeeper. The same way you go up to the chain-link fence to get close to a carnivore on the other side who thinks you’d make a nice afternoon snack. You just want to be closer to them, to experience that incredible, daunting feeling of being in their presence.
Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t long before I got what I wanted.
The day after we had the tour go through, I was doing my sweep when I saw the ghost again. She was sitting on a small boulder in the same area I’d seen her the first time, looking identical, blood covering the front of her slashed shirt, the wounds visible underneath. I stopped and stood there for a moment before I decided to raise my hand in a small wave.
The young woman cocked her head at me and raised a hand in the air in an imitation of my gesture, her expression showing a bit of curiosity.
She was low-key, seemingly not concerned with my presence, looking at me as a novel phenomenon in her world. I wondered what that world consisted of. Was she always here, sometimes visible and sometimes not? Or did she have another world next to ours, in the ether, where she left everything in this world behind and floated in her disembodied form? Did she still feel emotions? Was that really curiosity on her face, or was I projecting? Did she feel happiness? Fear? Did she have the option of moving on, or was she stuck here?
Many questions that I might never get the answers to. And that was assuming Andrew knew the answers, since I’d never met Suzanne Cooper and he hadn’t even mentioned that possibility. This place was clearly her baby, but I’m sure running it was a lot of work. Plus, if she was rich enough to own it, she was rich enough to have other businesses and charities to run.
When it comes to the enclosures, they’re all wrapped by a barrier of some kind, though never one that seems adequate. There was not a single place with the ugly metal weavings of a chain-link fence, and no stretches of circular razor wire. Instead, there are nice fences. Black iron, or wrought steel fencing in a similar style to the one circling the perimeter of the zoo, just shorter and with different patterns. Or a spaced picket fence, the wood stained in some tone of brown, or a split two-rail fence. As if to say, ‘This is the border of your enclosure, but we’re just letting you know out of courtesy.’
When I started to pass enclosure number seven last night, a young woman’s voice spoke, “Hello.”
I startled, unaware that I hadn’t been alone. “Oh. Hi,” I said, staring at her standing a few yards in.
She had been next to a large tree and I hadn’t seen her. This enclosure was behind a picket fence, and she walked through the large area of wild grasses and flowers that stretched across the other side of the fence. There were fewer tall grasses closer to the fence, which I guessed was because it had been tromped down by her regular pacing along it when there were visitors, or if she wanted to see the various enclosures of the zoo. Her sudden appearance was a bit weird, considering I had been expecting to see a cryptid and instead I was looking at, it seemed, an attractive Asian woman.
She wore a black kimono, the soft silk robe draped gently over her body, with beautiful patterns of cherry blossoms, more so over her left side, and red and blue birds with their wings spread. A sash wrapped around her abdomen, she wore socks and sandals on her feet, and her hair was up in those rolls that gave volume to the style.
I was no expert on any fashion, much less that of another country, so I just assumed it was all traditional Japanese clothing. Most likely, the visitors who came liked to see a certain time-honored style and that’s what she stuck with. Or maybe she played on stereotypes. That would be amusing.
“I’m Yui. It’s nice to meet you,” she spoke, arriving at the border of the fence and holding out a hand for me to shake.
I’d been standing about three yards away from her, and I’ll be honest, muscle memory tried to kick in. But I only made it two steps, my hand starting to rise, before I froze, the hand falling limply at my side. “Nice to meet you, too,” I answered, my voice quiet.
Damn. I wonder how many times that honey trap works back where she comes from.
The pleasant look on her face faded, and she lowered her hand. “You won’t shake hands with me? Isn’t that rude?”
“I mean, I kind of like my hand where it is. You know, attached to me.”
Her demure smile widened into something more amused. “I would never do something so revolting.”
Looking her up and down, as if more visual information would give me more knowledge of what she was, I asked her, “What would you do?”
“I would be less wasteful,” she said softly.
A finger of ice trailed down my spine, and I had the sudden image in my head of her grabbing my outstretched hand in an iron grip and yanking me over the fence, leaving me to sprawl on the ground. Then killing and consuming me efficiently, without a single careless step, the same way humans slaughtered pigs, using everything from the hog but the squeal. I was struck with a shiver at the idea of her consuming everything from me but my screams.
Slowly, I took one step further down the path, then another. Just as I got to a walking pace, though, I realized the woman had started walking too, in the same direction. I’d have eventually gotten to the end of her enclosure and keep going, leaving her behind, but she spoke up. “Are you leaving?”
I came to a stop, meeting her gaze again. “My job is to walk the zoo every hour. Then I’ll get back to the security room and stay there until my next walk.”
“Have you met the others yet?”
I hesitated before saying, “Just Leila.”
She blinked languidly. “That means nobody welcomed you here.”
“Andrew did.”
She didn’t reply to that. Instead, she slowly started to lean forward, and I flinched backward a few steps further as I saw insect legs start curling out from her back.
No. Not insect. Arachnid.
The eight legs ended in small ‘paws’ with tiny claws, a layer of hairs covering the leg from top to bottom, like any typical tarantula. I took two more slow steps back and my mouth went dry as the jointed legs just kept lengthening, until they were large enough to lever her off the ground.
My gaze had been on the spider legs, but my heart skipped a beat as I realized her human legs had melded together and turned into a bulging abdomen. Her skin was shifting to a carapace, eventually all the way up to her shoulders and down her arms, her fingers elongating and her nails stretching to claws. From there down, her body was that of a pale tarantula with pedipalps the size of my arms and piercing fangs in her jaws that looked like they could take my head off.
There was a moment, my vision blurring, where I was worried that I might piss myself. The part of my brain that still had its humor intact in that moment told me that I should keep an emergency set of clothes in my car, or at the very least, start wearing Depends to work.
“I show you my true form,” she said softly, her voice now raspy like an eighty-year-old after a lifelong smoking habit. “Welcome to Suzanne Cooper’s zoo. The night shift guard for many years was Roger, before he retired and the zoo moved, and I miss him dearly. What should I call you?”
I choked on my words. There was no way my throat was going to cooperate enough for me to clearly get a sentence out. Instead, I realized my legs had taken control of the situation themselves, unsatisfied with my conscious brain’s decision to stand and stare, taking steps backward. I backed up a yard, then five yards, then ten.
My mind focused on the fact that spiders don’t waste anything, and pictured my demise. I’d be wrapped in a cocoon, killed, and made nice and mushy before she had me for dinner.
The whole time, my brain was a frenzied mess, my pupils were probably the size of dimes, and I was staring at that tiny, pathetic fence between her and me. There was so much adrenaline pumping through my body that I felt like my bones were vibrating. The fence was, to my eyes, the only thing between us. The only thing keeping her from tackling and killing me. My only hope was that she’d do it quickly.
But she didn’t move. As I absorbed her innocent, polite words, the look on her face was calm, and I wondered if this was typically the way a conversation went before she devoured her prey. I wondered how many people she’d eaten. Not humans, not people from Earth, but the ones from where she came from. The fact that she doesn’t scare the shit out of those people means they’re staggeringly dumber than humans.
Finally, I rounded a corner, both relieved at having her out of my sight and worried that she would take that moment to come find me. When she’d been within eyeshot, I had at least known where she was and could run in the other direction. But I didn’t hear the sound of faint footsteps moving rapidly toward me. All was quiet, in that deep, smothering way that only an empty business in the middle of the night in small town America could be.
My hands trembling, I barely paid attention to anything but the confirmation that my surroundings were free of the colossal spider as I finally got back to the door. Grabbing the handle and letting my eyes dart around for about ten seconds and my ears prick for the slightest sound, I finally swiped my key card across the pad and went inside, shutting the door behind me and engaging the backup deadbolt.
Maybe that was why they had decided on keycards. If I was running from something and panicking, using an actual key or inserting the card like at a hotel would keep me from getting to safety considering my hands were shaking enough to mix a margarita.
Walking over to my chair, I fell into it, letting my body flush itself of terror as I looked up at the cameras. There she was, still in arachnid form, exactly where I’d left her behind that rinky-dink fence, casually looking around and slowly pacing back and forth. I stared at her as my racing heart gradually slowed, and a minute or so later she turned on her eight legs and walked back into the trees.
Whatever invisible fences the enclosures have apparently work, which is nice, because I wasn’t keen on getting killed by one of the creatures here. And that’s what brings me here, spilling out everything that’s happened so far. Because nearly passing out from terror isn’t something I wanted to deal with at work, obviously, but I keep going over what she did in my head again and again, and I feel like I reacted like a child who spotted a wolf spider on their bed. I started to worry for my overactive sense of self-preservation, at least in my capacity as an employee here.
The spider didn’t even try to hurt me, and so I was feeling a bit foolish. Even annoyed, actually, at the fact that I’d freaked out so hard and took off instead of trying to engage in at least basic conversation. I got the sense that she wasn’t at human-level intelligence, but I was never going to be able to hold any level of conversation with an alligator.
Sure, she did mention that she wouldn’t be so crass as to yank off my hand because she’d rather just have my entire corpse, but wouldn’t a wolf do the same if it was hungry? Wouldn’t any carnivore? Actually, they probably would’ve been satisfied with one of my hands. The fear here was from the fact that she turned into a giant spider. If she’d turned into Clifford, I would’ve reacted the same way, if not better than, meeting Leila.
With that, I decided I’m staying on the job. Considering how frustrated I can get with foolish people, it’s a bit hypocritical, and I’m being a bit of an idiot. But…there are definitely wards keeping them in their enclosures. Also, I signed up for creatures for another dimension, whether or not I believed in them at the time, and I will not let encountering my first one in an objectively boring way be the reason I quit.
The money is a factor, I’ll grant you. Of course it is. And I can’t spend it if I’m dead, but all signs point to surviving as long as I don’t do anything dumb. Also, yes, I’ll admit there’s a not-so-little voice in the back of my head that’s desperate to know what else is here. I never thought I’d do something like this, but finding out these things are real, I honestly do want to learn more about them.
Still, though, I decided to call Andrew at the end of my shift to ask if the pepper spray and taser I carried worked on a certain spider, as well as the other animals I’d yet to meet.
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May 20, 2024.
https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2024/05/september-11-attacks-saudi-arabia-lawsuit/678430/
or more than two decades, through two wars and domestic upheaval, the idea that al-Qaeda acted alone on 9/11 has been the basis of U.S. policy. A blue-ribbon commission concluded that Osama bin Laden had pioneered a new kind of terrorist group—combining superior technological know-how, extensive resources, and a worldwide network so well coordinated that it could carry out operations of unprecedented magnitude. This vanguard of jihad, it seemed, was the first nonstate actor that rivaled nation-states in the damage it could wreak.
That assessment now appears wrong. And if our understanding of what transpired on 9/11 turns out to have been flawed, then the costly policies that the United States has pursued for the past quarter century have been rooted in a false premise.
The global War on Terror was based on a mistake.
A new filing in a lawsuit brought by the families of 9/11 victims against the government of Saudi Arabia alleges that al-Qaeda had significant, indeed decisive, state support for its attacks. Officials of the Saudi government, the plaintiffs’ attorneys contend, formed and operated a network inside the United States that provided crucial assistance to the first cohort of 9/11 hijackers to enter the country.
The 71-page document, released in redacted form earlier this month, summarizes what the plaintiffs say they’ve learned through the evidence obtained in discovery and recently declassified materials. They allege that Saudi officials—most notably Fahad al-Thumairy, an imam at a Los Angeles mosque and an accredited diplomat at Saudi Arabia’s consulate in that city, and Omar al-Bayoumi, who masqueraded as a graduate student but was identified by the FBI as an intelligence operative—were not rogue operators but rather the front end of a conspiracy that included the Saudi embassy in Washington and senior government officials in Riyadh.
The plaintiffs argue that Thumairy and Bayoumi organized safe reception, transportation, and housing for hijackers Khalid al-Mihdhar and Nawaf al-Hazmi, beginning upon their arrival in California on January 15, 2000. (Both Thumairy and Bayoumi have denied aiding the plot. Bayoumi, along with Saudi Arabia, has also denied that he had any involvement with its intelligence operations.) The filing further argues that Thumairy and Bayoumi introduced the pair to local sympathizers in Los Angeles and San Diego who catered to their day-to-day needs, including help with immigration matters, digital and phone communications, and receiving funds from al-Qaeda by wire transfer. Saudi officials also helped the two al-Qaeda operatives—both Saudi nationals with little education or command of English, whose experience abroad consisted mostly of training and fighting for jihadist causes—to procure a car as well as driver’s licenses. This support network was crucial.

How can we stop going around in circles with these corrupted nihilists? (basically an extreme religious-nut but in reverse; no meaning, no value, no good/bad, nothing matters) I've compiled some of my thoughts/comments.

But first If you are not caught up yet:
1 Re: Vegan Gains ...The Militant Vegan Raffaela Interview - (May 12, 2024)
2 Vegan Gains is a sub-Jerkivest [5/11/24]
3 Moral Realism Debate w/ Inmendham - (May 16, 2024)
4 WTF #899: The vegan gains debate ... Value realism - (May 19, 2024)
5 Vegan Gains ...Denialism is the only nihilism [5/19/24]
also saw this Controversial Topics with Vegan Gains (Horse Riding, Bivalves, Depression, and much more!) - (May 11, 2024) ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ (he thinks in terms of some dogmatic religious brain-rot morality source of right/wrong, but a kind of reversed/opposite conclusion of it's absence, nihilism)
the very reason religion was invented in the first place was because humans by nature had a value-engine driving them & NEED for meaning, that's the irony. value gave rise to religion, religion never needed to grant value. The fact people can't grasp this. 🤦 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

Now onto the various arguments, sorry how long and out of order it is But the idea is to provoke you coming up with better ideas/arguments, and if you can critic and strenghen my and ultimately inmendham's arguments. The GOAL should be to Create a formal argument AKA a syllogism, modus ponens. Something clear and concise that can't be taken out of context or misinterpreted, as happened with the debate...

On the subject of Efilism, tread lightly, the philosophy and argument extends beyond merely focusing on suffering; it also includes the critical issue of consent violation. Its proponent and creator, Inmendham, argues for value realism, which contrasts starkly with the notion of subjective morality which I find illogical. While objective morality is full of baggage... often linked to outdated religious doctrine so on face value it's not fun or easy subject to broach... many contemporary non-religious ethicists ground it in realism. Personally me, inmendham and others see no use for the term "morality" as it's tainted. value-realism is the subject. Is it a value-laden universe or not?
it is not necessary to call TRUE/REAL right or wrong Objective, because if objective is defined as mind-independent than without minds there's nothing right/wrong to happen to, therefore THE discussion should be just regarding what is TRUE or NOT, subjective doesn't necessarily mean mere contrived opinion or preference but can be logical conclusion, e.g. you can conclude 2 + 2 = 4 as we understand these concepts of numbers to model reality but can you call it objective or mind-independent 2 + 2 = 4, or that math exists? Not really. As you require a modeler to model reality, an observer to make the observation, a mind to come to such accurate conclusions. To me, claiming there is no real right or wrong is akin to asserting that moral standards and ultimately the subject of Ethics is as fictitious as religion or Santa Claus, you just believe it cause you want to or have preference to. Why maintain this pretense if it's all a mere fabrication / contrivance?
Regarding subjective judgments such as determining "What's the tastiest potato chip or the most beautiful painting?", these are not factual assessments about the things themselves, The question itself is misleading, because the thing itself has none of those qualities objectively, Instead, such qualities are OUTPUTs generated by the interaction of our bodies and minds with these INPUT items, the input is quite arbitrary/irrelevant, unlike the highly meaningful & distinct output generated of positive or negative experiences. You might get off more on certain female body part than another, it doesn't matter, the output positives & negatives is more or less same among individuals and that's what's relevant... not what specific fun or hobby gets you or them off or pushes their buttons.
It can be TRUE that a certain food item is the tastiest to that personal individual, or gross to another, and we can talk about intersubjective truths with averages overall. But one's experience of what is tastiest for them doesn't contradict another's, they can both be true for them individually, as you are likely not even sharing the same exact experiences to judge differently. And one's very perception or framing of the experience changes the experience itself, no way around this truth. Some people find bricks tasty or edible, just how their brain is wired.
It's important to recognize that differing opinions of personal taste do not inherently conflict in the way ethical contradictions do. With ethical matters, asserting that two diametrically opposed views are equally valid is problematic, either one is right and the other wrong, or both might be based on flawed reasoning. Pretending 2 opposing ethical views can be both equally right/true/correct is utter contradictory mush, either one of them must be right / wrong, or both are contrived meaningless nothing opinions, just made up. you wouldn't say whether one believes in god or not IS mere personal opinion/preference and such 2 opposing views can be equally right at same time, that's utter contradictory nonsense, by saying 2 opinions that gRAPE is both good & bad at same time are equally right opinons, right loses all meaning and you might as well say neither is right and both are wrong, they each have their own contrived fairytale delusion.
Now with Ethics of right / wrong, it does not depend on one single individual's preference or opinion, but taken as the whole, if you violate one without consent you still have to account for that since you are seemingly putting the weight on the preference otherwise preferences are utterly meaningless and irrelevant.
ALSO, Do you call whatever you prefer what's right, or do you prefer to try to do what is right?
Do you prefer to seek out what is the right most accurate conclusion given all the facts of reality, or contrive right to be what's in your preference/interest or personal gain?
I don't think VG or most these talking heads understand value-realism (problematic events within subjectivity/a non-physical but REAL reality of the mind). Obviously there's no objective divine or otherwise prime-directive moral-rules we must follow. Unfortunately Religion has poisened the conversation so much with archaic ideas and mushy terms like 'Morality'. Understand there is no 'moral truth', let alone an objective one, ofc if you pigeon-hole me or all realists into defending such nonsense it's easy to refute them. What I'm interested in is subject of Ethics, and to start whether or not value/problematic events exist or do not exist.
Here's a silly question by nihilists: "why is suffering bad?"
Response: How do you identify suffering? Based on the fact that it feels bad. (Yes subjectively) Just as we can subjectively understand 2+2 = 4
Or this: "prove suffering bad, objectively"
Also question-begging, obviously it is subjective. If such badness cannot exist mind-independently by definition.
"Prove suffering is bad, objectively"
is begging the question, because...
It strawmans / assumes the badness must be bad mind-independently, it isn't therefore, it isn't bad.
Answer this, evolutionarily do animals PERCEIVE being tortured skinned alive nail in the eye as BAD, or does it impose torture which we RECOGNIZE and define as Bad by definition?
If true PAIN/torture isn't bad then why does it exist evolutionarily? Answer: (problem -> solution) mechanism which functions as ability to learn & improved survival, this mechanism was reinforced over time as it worked.
inmendham & realists like myself argue: it is the case Descriptively, Objectively evolution IMPOSED Prescriptive-value-judgements onto animals which function as a learning/problem solving mechanism. Fact is, the invention of 'PROBLEM' is something I/we/animals had nothing to do with... (no-free-will-choice) but are simply byproduct in observation of this fact.
If real PROBLEM(s) didn't truly exist then Arguably the word and conceptual understanding it points 👉 to wouldn't exist either. As if beings could be truly blind never seeing colors/vision yet pulling the idea out of thin air and conceiving of such a thing, how preposterous, that'd be giving human creativity/imagination way too much credit. The only nihilist argument then is that by evolution we & all feeling organisms are somehow ultimately deluded or have illusion of problem where there is none, which I find deeply implausible. Run the torture study/experiment a million times putting people's arm in the fire "yep still bad". Filtering out people who lack ability to feel pain of course.
As evolutionary biologists even states pain is a message to the animal "don't do that again". Can't get descriptively prescriptive more than that.
Are You Getting It?
The Ought is literally baked in as an IS. The is-ought gap to be bridged is a complete Red-Herring, yes you can't derive an Ought from an IS, because if you oughtn't do something, then it can never be BAD... problematic/BAD/torture can't mean anything if it doesn't scream OUGHT-not.
All you have to agree to is due to evolution it created torture which is decidedly negative/ inherently BAD, by definition. Otherwise it wouldn't feel bad or be torturous at all... THEN ask yourself, how can something be BAD yet it's not BAD to create that BAD?
This is Checkmate. These are irrefutable Facts & Logical deductions.
So much for it all being false-perception, the very fact placebo patients perceive an otherwise harmless laser as BAD/painful makes it so. It's the TRUE reality in their mind and you can't deny that fact. It's also a fact believing a pain isn't really all that bad can make it so, but this doesn't make these value-laden experiences NOT real/true.
As per evolution, your body/brain's mechanisms must generate & impose a prescriptive-value-judgement / problematic event within your mind,
It's nagging, complaining, telling you keeping your hand on the hot stove is a mistake/problematic/bad. (not in itself but as a consequence)
I believe this brain making me write all this... is making an accurate assessment when it observe certain events to be problematic/bad where it's happening which is within subjectivity, where's your evidence my perceptions are fooling me or I'm somehow deluded? I witnessed the crime take place and you were nowhere near the crime scene yet you have the authority to claim otherwise as fact? (You are not simply agnostic to my problem suffering but a De-nihilist)
Once one accepts this evolutionary fact we can move on to more complicated questions regarding ethics, like how do weigh the good & the bad, conflicting preferences, etc. Otherwise, it's all pointless & futile, like arguing bivalves or wild-suffering with a non-vegan. They're just not on that level yet and it's a waste of time.
revised version of my other comment: I believe that many discussions around morality miss a crucial point about value-realism, which acknowledges problematic events within subjectivity, a non-physical but real reality of the mind. It is evident that there are no objective, divine, or prime-directive moral rules we must follow. Unfortunately, religion has muddied the conversation with archaic ideas and terms like 'morality'.
There is no 'moral truth,' especially not an objective one. If critics pigeonhole realists into defending such notions, it becomes easy to refute them. My interest lies in ethics and whether value/problematic events exist.
Consider this question by nihilists: "Why is suffering bad?"
Response: Suffering is identified because it feels bad, subjectively. Just as we subjectively understand 2+2=4, we can recognize suffering through its unpleasant experience.
When asked to "prove suffering is bad, objectively," this is question-begging, as the question assumes that the badness must exist independently of minds, which it does not by definition. This question straw-mans the issue by requiring mind-independent badness, ignoring the subjective nature of suffering. As if the quality of it being BAD must be granted by something outside the experience itself.
Evolutionary Perspective: Animals perceive and react to torture (e.g., being skinned alive) as bad because evolution has imposed mechanisms that signal harm. Pain serves as a problem-solving mechanism, reinforcing behaviors that enhance survival. If pain and suffering weren't inherently problematic, they wouldn’t exist in the form they do.
Realists like myself argue that evolution has objectively imposed prescriptive-value judgments on animals. The concept of 'problem' or 'bad' arises from these evolutionary mechanisms, not from free will. The existence of these concepts indicates the reality of these problematic experiences.
If real problems didn’t exist, neither would the concepts describing them. This is akin to how beings blind from birth wouldn’t conceive of color. Suggesting that evolutionary processes have universally deluded all feeling organisms into perceiving problems where there are none is implausible.
As evolutionary biologists state, pain signals to the animal, "don't do that again," which is descriptively prescriptive. The 'ought' is embedded within the 'is.' Thus, the is-ought gap is a red herring because prescriptive judgments are evolutionarily ingrained.
Again, How do you identify suffering? Based on the fact that it feels bad. (Yes subjectively) Just as we can subjectively understand 2+2 = 4
All you have to agree to is due to evolution it created torture which is decidedly negative/ inherently BAD, by definition. Otherwise it wouldn't feel bad or be torturous at all... THEN ask yourself, how can something be BAD yet it's not BAD to create that BAD?
Conclusion: By acknowledging that evolution created inherently negative experiences like torture, we accept that these experiences are bad by definition. Denying the badness of creating bad experiences is contradictory. Therefore, once recognizing the true reality of subjective experiences, only then we can move on to complex ethical questions about weighing good and bad and addressing conflicting preferences.
playing devil's advocate let's try Steelman their position and then arrive at the logical conclusions of it and then perhaps refute it. If they say: "veganism = right" realize there is no contradiction IF by 'right' they just mean it's literally nothing but their preference...
There's no goal to prefer to know/do what's right, RATHER what's right is whatever matches our personal preferences, so unlike flat earther vs round earth beliefs/CLAIMs which can contradict/conflict with each other since either 1 is right or both are wrong. Individual tastes don't.
Whereas if VG says 9 people gRAPE the 1 kid for fun is WRONG because he's a threshold-deontologist but Also RIGHT to a hedonistic utilitarian, Those views only contradict/conflict if they are making VALUE-claims or recognizing a problematic event take place. However, with VG apparently he would have to say he's not claiming or labelling anything as TRULY problematic at all but merely describing his preferences like flavor of ice cream...
Now, of course, as the realist, I find such a view more deplorable/worse than if they were merely agnostic on right/wrong. Cause it's one thing to say there's a right answer to questions of Ethics but we have no objective scientific basis to determine it yet or lack knowledge VS saying they have knowledge there is absolutely no right or wrong.
Under Anti-realism nihilism, what they mean by wrong/right, is just their preference, if I understand correctly (which I'm quite sure) Anti-realism nihilism reduces the Subject of Ethics down to nothing but you or someone else pontificating/opining (i.e "me no like torture") . It defends some sort of expressivism, emotivism, normative, prescriptive reduction of Ethics. Which I find lubricious and has to be a mistake,
I don't see anyone playing any different game even the nihilists invest their money and plan ahead for self-interest, no one truly signs up for torture for fun like it's no problem, and runs away from pleasure happiness as bad. Further, it stands to reason... since we can recognize objectively evolution created a punishment mechanism to enforce learning and survival, BAD/PROBLEM as a concept is something I/WE/Animals had nothing to do with. We didn't invent it, we recognize it and respond accordingly. Even evolutionary biologist Richard Dawkins stated that pain is a message to the organism 'don't do that again!'
We must address further the flawed logic of VG and other nihilists reducing Ethics down to mere arbitrary preferences like potato chip flavor, or how much salt you prefer in the soup. As it is completely disanalogous & dishonest upon reflection. QUOTE: "There's no arguing against Efilism, it's just personal opinion. Like arguing what tastes better... ice-cream or potato chips?"
Say if you believe that the mona-lisa is beautiful, and I personally find it ugly, this conflicts/contradicts nothing because it claims nothing in terms about that object or reality outside of our own minds.
such qualities are OUTPUTs generated by body/mind from these INPUTs, the input is quite arbitrary/irrelevant, unlike the highly meaningful & distinct output generated of positive or negative experiences.
it doesn't matter what specific fun or hobby gets them off or pushes their buttons in order for it MATTER, those differences don't make it any less real OR all mere subjective opinion. the output positives & negatives is more or less same among individuals and that's what's relevant...
It can be TRUE that a certain food item is the tastiest to some personal individual, or gross to another, one's experience of what is tastiest for them doesn't contradict another's, they can both be true for them individually because it is the reality in their mind, Some people find bricks tasty or edible, just how their brain is wired.
while one person may find a certain food delicious, another may find it repulsive, without invalidating each other's experiences because they are true for them individually. both experiences are valid/correct.
However, actions that disregard another's negative experience invalidate their reality. if you find being boiled alive problematic and I do it anyway believing it's ok, I am invalidating your experience as either not real, relevant, doesn't matter, or my preferences are more important (carry more weight) than yours. Or simply believe it's ALL equal or arbitrary and I just prefer to exploit you so I do that.
Positive or negative experiences are largely consistent among people, making them relevant, regardless of the specific stimuli. Individual truths about taste or preference coexist without contradiction, reflecting each person's value-generated reality.
This cannot honestly be applied to one's mere opinion it's fine to boil kids alive, as you are invalidating the fact that it matters to those victims. You saying it doesn't matter or your gain of pleasure outweighs their loss of pain, is a claim about the reality of events going on in their mind, so there is room for conflict/contradiction. They can't both be right/wrong at the exact same time.
A strong non-intuition argument/claim & facts presented render value-nihilism implausible:
It is Descriptively the case, that Evolution IMPOSED Prescriptive-ought statements... of 'PROBLEMATIC sensation/event' on organisms which functioned as a learning mechanism and improved survival.
Therefore, BAD/PROBLEM isn't mere subjective opinion but something I/we/animals had nothing to do with and are mere by-product reacting to an observation.
This is pretty much the only base-axiom needed to ground my own torture as mattering as the original actual value-currency at stake. That paired with the fact I sampled consciousness and know it matters to me whether or not I am tortured, the fact that I personally observe it as problematic makes it the true reality for my own mind...
...AND it's not mere opinion/proclamation / or idea humans creatively invented out of thin air... as if like everyone could be truly blind yet conceptualizing colovision, makes no sense. plus that's giving humanity way too much credit of imagination.
Can't really have thoughts about information that you don't have. The concept of bad/problem arguably wouldn't even exist if it never was so.
Yes, I agree very semantics. I am attempting to shed clarity on this topic. Looking at the word "BAD" purely in a descriptive sense (e.g., that which can be categorically applied to extreme suffering) it loses all meaning if it's not truly consequential (i.e., it matters whether one experiences bad or not). If it doesn't actually matter ("no problemo") then it can't be bad, only an illusion/delusion of it, yet it's an effective one evolution imposed on organisms as a learning/problem-solving mechanism. The value-realists like myself have every reason to believe evolution created the real thing, not some contrived pseudo-problem organisms feel compelled/obligated to solve.
One only requires the axiom of a Descriptive Bad to ground Ethics. Why? Because it can be argued that a descriptive statement of BAD/problem is prescriptive by it's very nature in the meaning the of word/language.(otherwise its psuedo-bad/fake langauge, redefines bad as aversion/mere preference against) Otherwise, it can't mean anything to be bad, torturously obnoxious, unwanted experiential events couldn't mean anything. Evolutionary biologist Richard Dawkins even state pain is a punishment signal/message to the animal: "Don't do that again!" If those aren't prescriptions imposed, then I don't know what is. The animal doesn't simply decide/prefer to avoid the event and finds it bad, it's told/finds it bad and so prefers to avoid the event/problem. If god or there were some logically or physically possible way it were to be invented how else would it exist?, or what you think evolution's reward & punishment mechanism accomplished? If it didn't synthesize problematic sensations to force organisms to solve?
Evolution prescribes Needs/wants, at the same time imposes a PAIN/PROBLEM of starvation/hunger which by it's very nature is a prescription for solution (i.e. sustenance/relief/comfort.)
By the very nature of "PROBLEM" it prescribes -> "SOLUTION" not merely a contrived or trivial-like on paper math problem, but the origin of why the word even exists: the problem of pain, a true whip/punishment mechanism, real currency to play with, real loss. Idk how you can describe something categorically as a PROBLEM in the true sense of the word if it doesn't come with it a necessary prescription for its solution. Because if there is no NEED for a solution, then it turns into no longer a problem again...
I don't see how it could be any other way because if there's no real game to be playing with value baked into it, then money would be worthless/not even exist, animals wouldn't bother evade standing in the fire, etc.
Saying It is Descriptively the case, that Evolution IMPOSED Prescriptive-ought statements... of 'PROBLEMATIC sensation/event' on organisms which functioned as a learning mechanism and improved survival.
Is the same as saying Evolution IMPOSED torture/BAD, as that's what torture/bad is... a prescribed need for solution to a problem which is some form of relief/comfort.
The prescription arises as a result of accepting step 1. (which nihilists reject/deny) problem solution. The latter does not follow/exist without the former. basic 2+2 = 4 logic. There's no point figuring out the answer to the math equation, if we don't agree first and foremost a problem exists. Nor how to solve a disease, if we don't first and foremost recognize a disease exists. And so, Any debate with nihilists on step 2: of determining what is the most likely solution / right answer becomes irrelevent and a waste of time. Arguing about whether x or y IS the right answer to fixing/preventing diabetes is pointless when they don't even agree the really disease exists. They don't believe an actual real BAD / Problem exists.
VG reduces it down to mere preferences, his reasonings that even if universally sentience prefers not suffebe tortured... Well, just because it is the case descriptively we prefer to avoid suffering doesn't mean we ought/should prevent suffering. He hasn't bridged the IS-OUGHT gap. But he got it backwards,
the claim/argument... ISN'T that because descriptively, sentience universally has a preference to avoid suffering, it is therefore bad,
the claim/argument... IS that it's descriptively bad/problematic, therefore universally there's a deductively logically assigned preference to avoid it,
Again you can't classify/label something as a problem if it's inconsequential whether it is solved or not. The word loses all meaning. If something NEEDs solving/fixing it means there's a problem, if there's a problem it means there's something NEED solving/fixing. Evolution manufactures these needy problems in organisms to manipulate and control them.
Merely what our preferences are IS NOT relevant, preference "frustration" arguably IS. (if preferences couldn't be frustrated "i.e., no value" than it wouldn't matter which way things turned out)
You can have a preference for some art style over another, if we were just programmed non-feeling robots that preferred to avoid standing in the fire, but there was no real kernel of value/bad, then it wouldn't matter.
Let's imagine something was Objectively PROBLEMATIC, an IS statement. What would a real problem look like? something in NEED of a solution. Again, why? because If it doesn't matter whether or not it exists or is Solved or not, it could never be a problem in the first place. So either this problem exists or it doesn't. (NOTE: it doesn't need to be an objective problem to be REAL, "i.e mind-independent")
Next, if ASI or sentient beings were to sample this "problem", would it not be the case they would logically deduce it's in need of a solution? And assign their preferences accordingly to solving it? Cause again otherwise then you just see it as "no-problemo" again.
"If Inmendham's argument is that sentient beings create value, and that the universe has no value without the presence of a sentient being generating it, would it not follow that the ought is inherently built into sensation?" yes but the way VG unfairly reframes it is that we subjectively place value on it, THAT it's entirely subjective, like you prefer salty or sweet, or certain ice cream flavor. emphasizing that it's entirely subjective opinion. Take a look at his unfair silly example: "we can't say pineapple on pizza is objectively tasty or not..." this shows a complete ineptitude in grasping the subject and misrepresenting the argument like crazy, no one is arguing whether Mona Lisa is objectively beautiful or some such thing.
What is being argued: the positive or negative mind-dependent event produced in response to the sensual or perceptual stimuli, the input (object) is irrelevant, only the output (experience) matters and what the value-engine (BRAIN) produced. What pushes your buttons so to speak, blue jelly beans or green jelly beans, could differ between 2 individuals but the shared experience is the same more or less. Whether you wired to find pineapple on pizza tasty or gross is irrelevant, some people find bricks edible.
Main issue is they talking past each other: what inmendham is arguing for was either not expressed as best it could be, and/or VG does not quite comprehend what is being argued... inmendham claims/argues evolution created the real bad/PROBLEM and we respond in recognition of this fact/truth with preferences that follow accordingly, Logic cannot be escaped, once you know 2+2 = 4, you can't will or believe it to be 79. If you know the right answer "torture be Bad M'kay?" obviously you won't act or behave otherwise and say you love it. What could it mean to have a preference against experiencing torture... does such a statement even make any sense? All that is required is a real BAD to exist... and then the preference to avoid it logically follows, an inescapable truth. Unless he thinks I also choose or prefer to believe 2+2 = 4 ?
Essentially VG keeps counter-arguing that: "yes we want to avoid torture, but that's just your preference... just cause universally sentience has a preference against torture (a Descriptive / IS statement) doesn't logically follow some Normative/Prescriptive claim/statement. That just because something IS the case it doesn't follow that we OUGHT / should do X, like help others, prevent suffering, etc. That's a non-sequitur he says. Ultimately it's just a preference." sure but...
His argument only applies/counters a strawman position in his head: Because of this I and other realists can account for / side-step it completely, we aren't attempting to derive an OUGHT from an IS. e.g strawman: "we ALL have preference against torture, Therefore it's BAD." Or "we ALL have preference against torture, Therefore we OUGHT prevent it"
The actual argument is that it's Truly Bad/Problematic by the very nature of the word, Therefore first-hand observation follows universally a deductively logically assigned preference to avoid it. Not the other way around.
"If the only thing that can have meaning in the universe is the experience of a sentient being, ought we not maximize its value just by nature of its experience being the only thing that can matter?" yes the ought is a further logical extension of recognizing it to be a problem, which denotes/demands a solution, otherwise if it doesn't matter to solve it or not then you've turned it into a non-problem again. So it can only be categorically one or the other.
Issue of semantics, different terminology and definitions: as long as VG defines objective as "mind-independent" and sets the goal-post to the realist to find a mind-independent "wrong/bad" as if somehow we need some divine-command or absolute rule in the universe that declares it so... then there is no fruit to the discussion. suffering/bad takes place in the mind/experience, so of course it's unfair to ask one to present a mind-independent suffering/bad in the universe, it is begging the question. To be fair inmendham uses the term objective and could have done better job with defining/pushing his terms "e.g. objective as truth/real/fact" and not let VG impose in his own. However, I don't ascribe a requirement to demonstrate an Objective BAD to ground a BAD as real, valid, and true; it can be entirely based on Subjectivist grounds/axiomatic foundations.
Just because the BAD takes place within subjectivity doesn't make it any less real (non-physical/immaterial sure... but not unreal). VG and nihilists can't understand this. 2+2 = 4 is subjective as is all science ultimately as a root axiomatic-fact... as an observation requires an observer. This doesn't mean realism can't be proven/grounded, it can just like we can know 2+2=4 and the moon exists. If anti-realism is gonna deny subjective truths because it's subjective, then one can't know much of anything and reduces to solipsism. I am more certain I exist and the reality of "perceived" BAD I experience is actually a real BAD... THAN that the moon even exists or any other scientific empirical claim.
PROBLEM is something I/we/animals had Nothing to do with, we didn't invent it.
If Anti-realism nihilism was True and Real "PROBLEMS" didn't exist the word wouldn't exist. It is like being born never knowing or seeing or experiencing vision & color, it's impossible to contrive or imagine it. Some knowledge & information is only accessible through experience.
Even Richard Dawkins stated, "pain is a message to the animal Don't do that again!"
If the ought exists within subjectivity, as preferences, why would them being Subjective vs Objective determine whether or not their violation matters? If one experiences disgust looking at something AND another finds beauty... both are true realities for them, they don't conflict or contradict like empirical or fact claims, but instead both are correct and relevant, not one or the other, BECAUSE when someone says the mona Lisa is beautiful they are just saying it arises in them a sense of beauty, the thing/input is irrelevant whereas the output in mind is what is relevant and true for their reality.
Subjective =/= not true, I don't understand the dichotomy between objective vs subjective ethics, as if there isn't facts to glean about subjectivity.
There's also definition or semantic problems:
objective (mind-independent) vs subjective (mind-dependent)
Under such definition does it make sense to say Objectively evolution created feeling experiencing organisms having sense of taste, smell, sound, hunger, pain, to survive. So can we apply word objective to mind-dependent experiences or not?
And of course under such definition there is no objective mind-independent ethics as without minds there is no feeling subject of concern to even talk about in first place. So how silly...
Yet they take objective to mean True & Subjective made up or mere contrived opinion.
For me these are semantic word games that distract, I just care about what's fact/true. What many don't get is Even science, math is subjective invention, byproduct of subjective tool of language, doesn't mean we can't create an accurate model and picture of reality.
I believe the Is-Ought gap is a red-herring, sure it's true you can't contrive an Ought from just what IS, but with evolution the OUGHT statement is built-in, it's descriptively a prescriptive value statement imposed on me, I/we/animals literally have nothing to do with it, I'm just by-product an observer. This is key understanding.
There exists no objective or divine commandment "you OUGHT do X" written into the fabric of reality, and therefore if you don't that's Bad, No. That's nonsense/impossible logically.
Rather an Descriptive IS statement of X is a real bad/PROBLEM, denotes/demands a solution by it's very nature of the word, otherwise if it doesn't need solving then it becomes into a non-problem again, so either x categorically IS a PROBLEM or it's not.
The claim/argument... Is that it's Descriptively BAD/Problematic, therefore universally there's a deductively logically assigned preference to avoid it. Not the other way around. Our personal preference against torture forever doesn't make it therefore bad. The prescription is built in, forced onto us.
It's like "STOP!" & "GO" What do you say to a dog? "BAD dog!" This is saying it should or shouldn't do something. basically = "No!" "Stop!" That's a prescriptive statement/signal/conveyed message.
Or simply, alls required is Descriptively diagnose Torture as Problematic. Which implies Problem Solution Without necessity of solution there is no problem at all, likewise without problem solution means nothing.
​So you essentially boiled my position down to: "Evolution programmed preference to avoid torture." or "we evolved preference to avoid torture" Does that sound incoherent or what... as if I would make such a silly claim. Keep straw-manning.
Do you think animals have PREFERENCE by default to avoid being tortured burned alive and have sex, or logically preferences are born out of observing problematic negative / positive assigned accordingly through punishment & reward mechanisms aka prescriptions, think long and hard about this one...
This is why value or ethical nihilism is incoherent to me. IF torture be bad, how can it be NOT-bad/neutral to create BAD?
It either is truly BAD or it isn't. It's either real or it's an illusion/delusion and false perception.
Their position must reduce to there is no MEANINGFUL difference between Torture & Bliss. And evolution didn't create any problematic sensation or true punishment whatsoever. Instead, were somehow deluded to view being boiling alive as problematic sensation/BAD, and relief as good, we can't tell the difference or label which is which...
Vegan Gains or any anti-realist needs to substantiate these anti-realist nihilist claims & concede if he agrees with the statements below:
"The value-laden problematic BAD experience of being tortured boiled alive in a vat of acid indefinitely... isn't really bad, evolution didn't successfully impose a real negative punishment mechanism on animals, torture isn't something I/we/animals had nothing to do with and are just byproduct observing the imposition, NO! Instead our opinion has everything to do with it... what's problematic torture, one is merely subjectively interpreting/inventing/proclaiming it to be so! Evolution failed!"
"Animals run from fire cause they irrationally unreasonably subjectively interpret it to be bad/problematic sensation or experience, not cause DNA molecule made it so objectively for evolutionary reasons"
"It is all subjective preference like flavor of potato chips, problematic torturous experience isn't bad you just think it's bad or have preference against it."
"You don't logically recognize intrinsic problematic torturous experience then logically assign solution to problem which is preference to avoid that experience, No, you merely have subjective delusional preference against a nail in your eye and there is no logic to it"
"Good is Bad, and Bad is Good depending on opinion, no right or wrong, all subjective tho"
value anti-realism nihilism. INSANE! WORSE than a flat-earth theory!