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2024.05.21 18:36 MakersOnTheRock [UPDATE 3.0] My wife cheated on me with my son's Baseball coach
Shew, where to start...
well first off, I did it. I officially filed for divorce. She has less than two weeks to respond.
Quite literally the hardest decision I've ever had to make and to be 100% honest, I still don't want to, but I know that it will be what's best for me, my soul, my anxiety and my mind.
Over the past month we'd have good days and bad days. tension was always high, and it turns out she still kept lying about him.
I got a hold of her phone again and she had shared locations on snap with him, and when we were supposedly trying to make it work she wouldn't even share that with me, her husband. And I had asked. (oh and she changed his name in SnapChat so I wouldn't know it was him. Multi levels of deception. She also had changed his name in her contacts to throw me off. sucks for her I know tech well, and am a bit smarter and clever than the average bear)
On her Birthday, we weren't getting along, so she chose to go spend time with him in the evening while I hung out with out kids. (didn't tell me, found out by searching her phone for his name)
That same day, she had been texting her BFF and literally told her I was being annoying and said 'why don't you just divorce me?!' to her regarding me.
In arguments, she'd text me to divorce her because I would express how I was unhappy and am struggling trusting her because she's been so shady.
Everything from blocking me on Snapchat (because she didn't want to see my snaps was her reason) to a crazy phone screen cover, to changing the lock code on our car. (Both names are on it, but it's primarily hers)
just really odd shit and then would also try to love bomb me and have me just go along with everything and be a good family man.
More recently, on my birthday I made the poor decision to go out with her, absolutely we had a lovely time till something triggered me and her affair came up, and we started arguing.
It escalated up to the point where I was recording her on my phone as she was going nuts, and she straight up hit me in the side of my head, knocked my phone to the ground and we tussled over my phone. (all recorded)
She called the police, no charges pressed and I was told to sleep upstairs, which I did willingly.
the next day, she filed a protective order against me and I couldn't reach out to or see the kids (or her, which was a ok) for a week. I couldn't even be in my own home. She did have the kids call me everyday which was very nice.
During that week, my lawyers convinced me the best thing to do, especially for custodial reasons was to file as it supercedes the restraining order, so I did.
At the court hearing she was served, and knew it was coming the night before as her friend is an officer and it's public record.
In front of the judge, she said that I was no threat to her or our children and that Im a great father. She also stated that I'm allowed to freely come and go at the house and anywhere else I chose as I'm not a threat and she wants me to see and be with the kids. it's in the transcript, so I'll use that in the custody battle. (we will and have talked about 50/50, but it's good to have in case)
So the judge basically said that this was all a waste of time and now because the restraining order has to be extended till we divorce, it's all null except that I'm not allowed to threaten her. (not like I ever have, or would ever do.)
I've moved to a family home which has room for me and the kiddos (they have their own room and beds, as well as toys books and everything else they could possibly need at this home) and we're splitting time with them.
She expected me to make the AM 40 min commute to watch the kids by 730 so she can get to work, but I've made it very clear that if we have them overnight, we take care of the ams regardless where the kids are. She fought that for a bit, but I showed her I have a Pendete Lite order ready to go, and I could just take the main house 50% of the time and displace her, and she calmed down.
So that's about it with an update. She's trying to win me back again, but I've now caught her 4 times going back to him so I can't giver her another chance. I want to, but I know I can't. I can't trust her.
it's the hardest thing in the world. I break down crying randomly, I and am terrified about the future and how it will all work out, I hate that she chose him over me, and tries to win me back. Telling me how much this is hurting her and all that jazz and it's like...
well maybe you shouldn't have had a fucking yearlong affair! An affair that was first discovered by an 'i love you more' text. Maybe you shouldn't have given my engagement/wedding right back TWICE.
YOU CHOSE HIM.
A one time thing I could have recovered from and forgiven, but to go back time after time after time after time and hid it all and did all the things I know she did...
Ugh. It's too much. I'm choosing to break up our beautiful little family and it kills me.
however, I have to stand up for myself and I know I could never trust her again.
She keeps asking for time to heal, but she keeps going back and getting mad at me for bringing her affair up when we bicker.
I can't help myself. That mother fucker lives rent free in my head all the time and almost everything reminds me of her infidelity.
She chose him over me, and now will suffer the consequences. It just sucks because I'm suffering greatly too.
don't get married folks.
I'm sure more will come to me, but I'm just having a hard time and needed to type this all out and get it out of my head.
thanks for reading my wall of text, and I appreciate all the support over the past few months.
submitted by MakersOnTheRock to survivinginfidelity [link] [comments]
well first off, I did it. I officially filed for divorce. She has less than two weeks to respond.
Quite literally the hardest decision I've ever had to make and to be 100% honest, I still don't want to, but I know that it will be what's best for me, my soul, my anxiety and my mind.
Over the past month we'd have good days and bad days. tension was always high, and it turns out she still kept lying about him.
I got a hold of her phone again and she had shared locations on snap with him, and when we were supposedly trying to make it work she wouldn't even share that with me, her husband. And I had asked. (oh and she changed his name in SnapChat so I wouldn't know it was him. Multi levels of deception. She also had changed his name in her contacts to throw me off. sucks for her I know tech well, and am a bit smarter and clever than the average bear)
On her Birthday, we weren't getting along, so she chose to go spend time with him in the evening while I hung out with out kids. (didn't tell me, found out by searching her phone for his name)
That same day, she had been texting her BFF and literally told her I was being annoying and said 'why don't you just divorce me?!' to her regarding me.
In arguments, she'd text me to divorce her because I would express how I was unhappy and am struggling trusting her because she's been so shady.
Everything from blocking me on Snapchat (because she didn't want to see my snaps was her reason) to a crazy phone screen cover, to changing the lock code on our car. (Both names are on it, but it's primarily hers)
just really odd shit and then would also try to love bomb me and have me just go along with everything and be a good family man.
More recently, on my birthday I made the poor decision to go out with her, absolutely we had a lovely time till something triggered me and her affair came up, and we started arguing.
It escalated up to the point where I was recording her on my phone as she was going nuts, and she straight up hit me in the side of my head, knocked my phone to the ground and we tussled over my phone. (all recorded)
She called the police, no charges pressed and I was told to sleep upstairs, which I did willingly.
the next day, she filed a protective order against me and I couldn't reach out to or see the kids (or her, which was a ok) for a week. I couldn't even be in my own home. She did have the kids call me everyday which was very nice.
During that week, my lawyers convinced me the best thing to do, especially for custodial reasons was to file as it supercedes the restraining order, so I did.
At the court hearing she was served, and knew it was coming the night before as her friend is an officer and it's public record.
In front of the judge, she said that I was no threat to her or our children and that Im a great father. She also stated that I'm allowed to freely come and go at the house and anywhere else I chose as I'm not a threat and she wants me to see and be with the kids. it's in the transcript, so I'll use that in the custody battle. (we will and have talked about 50/50, but it's good to have in case)
So the judge basically said that this was all a waste of time and now because the restraining order has to be extended till we divorce, it's all null except that I'm not allowed to threaten her. (not like I ever have, or would ever do.)
I've moved to a family home which has room for me and the kiddos (they have their own room and beds, as well as toys books and everything else they could possibly need at this home) and we're splitting time with them.
She expected me to make the AM 40 min commute to watch the kids by 730 so she can get to work, but I've made it very clear that if we have them overnight, we take care of the ams regardless where the kids are. She fought that for a bit, but I showed her I have a Pendete Lite order ready to go, and I could just take the main house 50% of the time and displace her, and she calmed down.
So that's about it with an update. She's trying to win me back again, but I've now caught her 4 times going back to him so I can't giver her another chance. I want to, but I know I can't. I can't trust her.
it's the hardest thing in the world. I break down crying randomly, I and am terrified about the future and how it will all work out, I hate that she chose him over me, and tries to win me back. Telling me how much this is hurting her and all that jazz and it's like...
well maybe you shouldn't have had a fucking yearlong affair! An affair that was first discovered by an 'i love you more' text. Maybe you shouldn't have given my engagement/wedding right back TWICE.
YOU CHOSE HIM.
A one time thing I could have recovered from and forgiven, but to go back time after time after time after time and hid it all and did all the things I know she did...
Ugh. It's too much. I'm choosing to break up our beautiful little family and it kills me.
however, I have to stand up for myself and I know I could never trust her again.
She keeps asking for time to heal, but she keeps going back and getting mad at me for bringing her affair up when we bicker.
I can't help myself. That mother fucker lives rent free in my head all the time and almost everything reminds me of her infidelity.
She chose him over me, and now will suffer the consequences. It just sucks because I'm suffering greatly too.
don't get married folks.
I'm sure more will come to me, but I'm just having a hard time and needed to type this all out and get it out of my head.
thanks for reading my wall of text, and I appreciate all the support over the past few months.
2024.05.21 18:30 yelpvinegar The 7 Types of Startup Founders: Why It Matters To You
What’s the #1 thing every founder needs to know?
I’ll give you a few minutes to make a list — top of mind might include sales, marketing, technology, product management (especially product-market fit), technical skills, fundraising, team building, leadership, management, finance, and planning/executing strategic growth and scaling.Sure… but, sorry, none of that is the correct answer. Because, of course, you know that founders typically are expected to be jacks of all trades. So yes, to all of the above, but that’s not the secret sauce.
The #1 thing every founder needs to know is… themself.
Here’s the truth: founders start companies, and entrepreneurs build them. While not every entrepreneur is a founder (think franchise owners), every founder is an entrepreneur (at least initially).
If you’re like me, you are a forward-obsessed founder. That means where you are now is always building toward where you want to go. That person is always an entrepreneur. Once the company is started, you’ll do what it takes — including relinquishing control — to keep it growing.
Does that sting? We founders think of our companies as our babies, but statistics say we’re likely to be the ones kicked out of the nest. Also, research shows that in the US, only 14 out of the top selling 500 companies still have the original founder running the company. And the Harvard Business Review reports that most founders relinquish control long before their companies go public — and that four out of five are forced to step down as CEO.
It doesn’t have to be that way if you have one critical attribute: self-awareness. That way, you can decide as your company grows how you want to evolve your role in the overall day-to-day running of the company (i.e., learn, delegate, hire, move on). And ultimately, you can make better choices at critical growth junctures in your business progression.
So, to help you become more self-aware, it’s helpful to understand the different types of founders. Let’s dive in.
The Types of Founders
A couple of notes before we get into specifics:- Much like any other classification, there are gray areas, so you (and many of the examples I share in this article) may fit into more than one category.
- Some traits are common to all founders, such as being open to innovation, passionate about their project, risk-takers, etc. But some founders excel or even over-index in certain attributes, so that’s what you’ll see in the different types.
1. The Solo Founder
Traits:- Fiercely independent
- Self-assured
- Strong belief in their vision/idea
- Business strongly tied to skill set and experience
- Resilient (i.e., can withstand feelings of loneliness)
- Freedom
- Complete control
- Learn a lot
- Solo-founded companies statistically have a higher failure rate
- Harder to raise money/VCs are more reticent
- Health impacts: burnout, loneliness, etc.
- Attention is divided because you wear all the hats (marketing, sales, building your product, finances, fundraising, prospecting for new customers, etc.)
- Complete responsibility for all aspects of the business
Ten years ago, in 2012, when she was just 38, Sara Blakely became the world’s youngest self-made female billionaire. Her business, built on a significant industry gap (the lack of comfortable, effective shapewear) and her incredible sales hustle, also benefited greatly from Blakely’s abundant self-awareness. Here’s her advice to solo founders at a 2020 business conference:
“I tell people as soon as you can afford to hire your weaknesses, do it… As soon as I could afford to hire someone to do more of the operations side of the business, I did. As an entrepreneur, one of the biggest gifts you can give yourself is to stay in your lane.”In other words, know what your Green Zone is and play there.
If you’re like Blakely, it’s usually big ideas and sales ability (she could easily qualify as a Visionary Founder, too) or operations and execution (what Blakely realized she needed help with).
Pro tip: If you’re a solo founder, you’ll likely want to lean into an entrepreneurial framework like the Entrepreneurial Operating System (EOS) to help you define and settle into which side you skew toward.
2. The Visionary Founder (or Co-founders)
Traits:- Driven by a big idea
- Disruptive — recognizes opportunities to upend traditional norms
- Focused and clear
- Persistent
- Natural salesperson
- Can see the big picture
- Collaborative (esp. In co-founder scenario)
- Motivated by the impact they have — more than $$ alone
- Passionate about their work
- Aren’t easily derailed — failures are expected, and mistakes are not made twice
- Inspired leadership
- So focused on the big picture that they may miss important details
- A visionary idea doesn’t automatically = visionary leadership
- Disconnected from reality at times
- Easily bored when the mundane takes priority
- May not plan succession well
- Unrealistic expectations
- Poor communication
Considering that Steve Jobs’ name is pretty much synonymous with “visionary,” I don’t think I need to list more than the products and industries Jobs’ revolutionized at Apple and beyond — Apple Computers, iPod (iTunes), iPad, iPhone, Pixar, iCloud — with many products and points in between. George Lucas, from whom Jobs bought the Graphics Group at Lucasfilm and renamed it “Pixar,” perfectly summarizes his superpower:
“The magic of Steve was that while others simply accepted the status quo, he saw the true potential in everything he touched and never compromised on that vision.”Steve Wozniak was the technological yin to Jobs’ sales and marketing yang, bringing the vision of a computer with a graphic interface to life. From the visionary files, “Woz” also invented the first programmable universal remote and was an early innovator of wireless GPS (thanks to his clever dogs who routinely evaded electronic fences).
3. The Serial Disruptor
Traits:- Varied interests & capabilities
- Easily bored — desires variety and change
- Optimistic
- Extremely innovative
- High threshold for pain
- Accepting of failure
- Self-reliant
- Diverse capabilities
- Bold vision
- Motivated by the impact they have — more than $$ alone
- Variety of experiences
- Flexibility and freedom
- Diversification
- Tons of opportunities for creative expression
- Greater earning opportunities
- Disrupts industries
- Attracts high-quality talent
- High risk
- Difficulties finding trustworthy partners/can get stuck helming something when you want to move on
- Multitudes of people reliant on you
- Divided focus
- Ego-driven pursuits
Like him or loathe him, Elon Musk is perhaps the most prolific (and successful) serial founder of all time with startups including Tesla, SpaceX, The Boring Company, and Neuralink, among others. His drive to design opportunities to evolve humanity has redefined both hustle culture and the art of serial entrepreneurship.
For serial founders, having a set of principles is key to their success. In Musk’s case, his use of “first principles” — reducing a process to its essential parts — has served him well, from helping him figure out how to make rockets cheaper and reusable (SpaceX) to shifting the narrative of electric vehicles (Tesla).
4. The Engineer
Traits:- Engineer by experience and nature
- Technically savvy
- Able to problem-solve technology-driven issues (not just with the product but also operations-wise)
- Strong desire to not just innovate but also to accelerate progress
- Expansive vision of how technology can solve common problems
- Level-headed
- Agile, fast learners
- Focused on execution
- Pragmatic approach
- Own technology
- Problems are solved quickly
- Able to employ technology to reduce time to market
- Solutions for products can become new products in their own right
- Not well versed in other crucial areas (i.e., sales, marketing)
- Over-index on having lower Emotional Intelligence (EQ)
- Because they can learn quickly, so may get stuck playing outside of the green zone
Much like the other examples I’m sharing, Mark Zuckerberg’s story has been widely told, so you probably know about his development of Facebook. But at his core, Zuckerberg is an engineering prodigy and geek. At just 13 in 1997, he built “ZuckNet,” which enabled the family’s home computers to communicate via Ping (a precursor of AOL’s Instant Messenger) with his father’s dental office computers. He was using AI in his senior year in high school, so the roots of his Meta(verse) focus today are apparent.
A common weakness for engineers is they tend to have a lower EQ, which has been well-researched. As a former engineer, I understand how logic and technology come easier than understanding human behavior. This is why tech founders should seek out mentors early and bring in competent leaders with high EQ and leadership skills — for example, Zuckerberg credits his former COO of 14 years, Sheryl Sandberg, for turning the company into a multi-billion dollar company.
5. The Personality Founder
Traits:- Charismatic and gregarious
- Attracts a vast audience
- Influential
- Ambitious
- Forward-thinking
- Inwardly motivated (responds to a “calling”)
- Excellent storytellers
- Authentic and honest (ideally 😉)
- Has a built-in audience and established social platforms
- Likely has pre-existing wealth (can help fund the business/mitigate startup money woes)
- Can use their power for good; disruptive in a positive way
- Needs to find the right people to trust
- Can’t just be the “face” of the business; needs to accrue real business chops
- Celebrity and influence status don’t equal quality products
- Difficult or impossible for the founder to leave
I’m using Oprah as an example, as her products are an outgrowth of her — her eponymous talk show, which ran for 25 years, the OWN network, O Magazine, her book club, and a variety of charitable endeavors comprise her vast empire. But of course, we know plenty of other personality brands that have racked up billions in sales and even transformed, from the Kardashians/Jenners, to Bethany Frankel and Ryan Reynolds (just watch Deadpool 3 to see his brands — coming in 2023).
In today’s age of influence, we’ve seen a surge of personality brands and founders who leverage built-in audiences and communities to scale quickly. All these names are business mavericks in their own right, but many didn’t start out this way — they deftly utilize their charisma and ability to entertain to shape their brands and pave the way to success.
6. The Accidental Founder
Traits:- Independent
- Resourceful
- Necessity-driven
- Follow their desire/passion
- Creative
- Willing to take risks
- A deep belief in what they’re doing
- Solves real-world problems based on personal experience
- Discover they’re much happier running their own show
- Turns skills, vocation, or avocation into a profitable business
- May not have the business chops
- Reluctant business person — may not actually want to run their own business
- Needs to find the right people to trust
- Overwhelm
Patagonia founder Yvon Chouinard has been in the news lately for giving away his company to fight climate change. He’s an OG accidental entrepreneur whose passion for rock climbing led him to develop reusable pitons (rock climbing spikes) and, later, heavy-duty shirts. Famously Chouinard called himself a “dirtbag climber” and didn’t want to become a business mogul. Sixty-five years later, this accidental founder’s company is valued at $3 billion, and his latest innovation is a way of giving away the profits of a company to continue his contribution to society — protecting and preserving the natural world.
As I always say, there are riches in the niches, and accidental entrepreneurs are the leading type of founders to discover a marketplace with little or no competition.
7. The Intentional Founder
Traits:- Purpose-driven
- Strong ideals and values
- Passionate about the bigger picture impacts
- Socially conscious
- Clear and focused on the brand mission
- An empathetic approach to the product/the company
- Can educate, empower, and motivate others (i.e., team, customers)
- Employees are statistically more satisfied and likely to stay
- Commitment to a higher ideal engenders more loyalty and trust with the general public (customers)
- Moving from individual ideals to a group effort is tricky
- Difficult to find employees with perfectly aligned values
- Might not have the business experience to set the organization up for long-term success
- Purpose-driven (belief) isn’t the same as purpose-enabled (capability)
- Might be challenging for the company to survive the loss of the founder
While Jessica Alba does have some touches of a Personality Founder (she is an actor) and an Accidental Founder (an allergic reaction to detergent made her worry about her new baby’s sensitive skin), she is an excellent example of an intentional founder. Back in 2008, when Alba had that allergic reaction, influencer marketing wasn’t what it is today — plus, she had some success but was by no means a household name. Ditto for eco-conscious consumer packaged goods — a plus, sure, but didn’t have the same urgency and importance it does today. Alba then spent years researching ingredients in everyday products and even went to DC to lobby for updates to the 1976 Toxic Substances Control Act. Convinced that consumers need safe, affordable, environmentally friendly products for kids and home, Alba launched The Honest Company in 2011.
Now, she did have seasoned co-founders, her own wealth to use out the gates, and VC support shortly after that, but it has always been Alba’s commitment to and alignment with the brand’s core principles that have kept the brand growing and thriving — today, as a publicly traded company with a 2021 $412.8 IPO.
What type of founder are you? Definitely feel free to share in the comments.
2024.05.21 18:21 Fearless-Speech-123 extremely difficult case of account loss
so yesterday i was trying to download a really large game on my computer but i didnt have enough space to download it so i deleted many useless things now all of a sudden when i was browsing the internet on google chrome i got the worst idea of my life which i will regret later on is to delete all my browsing history to free up space.i didnt really think much about it i thought it will only clear the history of websites ive visited and will clear some space so i checked all the boxes clicked on delete all time ....my pc lagged a little then after some time i tried opening youtube and watch soemthing. it said get started i checked and. MY ACCOUNT WAS GONE so obviously i tried signing in..i have forgotten password wow,i said no problem lets reset it it told me to scan my fingerprint now 1.that option wasnt availible in my laptop 2. and the worst is that I HAVE LOST MY PHONE!(that was also the reason i was using a laptop) well,i didnt really lost it i just broke it because its battery was so swollen it display got popped out so i got this clever idea of taking its SIM out putting it in my moms phone and enter the otps given on the phone now note that my account has 2 step verification but because of my clever mind i entered the otp given in the phone then it told me to enter the code given in the email NOW HOW AM I SUPPOSE TO OPEN MY LOST ACCOUNT AND SEE MY CODE HOW DOES THAT WORK and if somebody thinks they are cooking by thinking why not i just sign in with my moms phone well,that says there is no existing account of that name
IF SOMEBODY CAN SOLVE THIS ISSUE YOU ARE A LIFESAVER TO ME AND I WILL NEVER FORGET YOUR NAME PLEASE
submitted by Fearless-Speech-123 to chrome [link] [comments]
IF SOMEBODY CAN SOLVE THIS ISSUE YOU ARE A LIFESAVER TO ME AND I WILL NEVER FORGET YOUR NAME PLEASE
2024.05.21 17:21 gamer4eva418 Veterinary clinic name?
I'm hoping to open a veterinary clinic in Tacoma Washington in the future, and I'm trying to decide on a name. I have some friends that have come up with some somewhat clever ones, but not sure if people would consider it a place they would actually go to, depending on the name. What I'm trying to determine with the name is this: if it has "X" name, would you actually bring your pet there?
View Poll
submitted by gamer4eva418 to polls [link] [comments]
View Poll
2024.05.21 16:57 Shagrrotten The Greatest Car Chases in Movie History, Ranked
Taken from: https://www.theringer.com/movies/2024/5/21/24161120/greatest-movie-car-chase-scenes-ranked-furiosa-mad-max-saga
In honor of the imminent ‘Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga,’ we’re shifting into high gear to determine the best chase scene in cinema history
By Miles Surrey May 21, 2024, 6:30am EDTGetty Images/Ringer illustration
After wowing audiences with Mad Max: Fury Road, director George Miller returns to the franchise’s post-apocalyptic wastelands for Furiosa, the epic origin story of the eponymous heroine (now played by Anya Taylor-Joy), premiering on Friday. As the follow-up to one of the greatest action films ever made, it’s hard to overstate the hype for Furiosa, and that was before word got out about a showstopping 15-minute sequence that required nearly 200 stuntpeople and took 78 days to shoot. While Furiosa will have its own distinct flavor, as is true of every Mad Max movie, there’s one thing that unites these projects: intense, jaw-dropping scenes of vehicular mayhem. And what better way to honor the franchise than by celebrating what it does best?
Ahead of Furiosa’s release, we’ve put together our definitive ranking of the best car chases in cinema. There weren’t any strict rules in place, other than capping the list at 20—mostly for my own sanity—and limiting every franchise to one entry. (Apologies to Fury Road’s kickass predecessor The Road Warrior.) We also won’t discriminate against scenes that feature motorbikes, so long as cars (and/or trucks) remain part of the equation. As for what, exactly, constitutes a good car chase? Like list making, it’s bound to be subjective, but I tend to gravitate toward two key elements: the skill of the stuntwork on display and the ways in which a filmmaker conveys the action in relation to the story. (Also, the less CGI, the better.) Buckle up, ’cause we’re not wasting any time shifting into high gear.
If we’re being honest, though, it feels like James Bond has yet to create a franchise-defining car chase. Perhaps that’s a mission the newest 007, whoever it ends up being, can undertake.
We’ll be sure to update this ranking if and when Cruise does something even more dangerous down the road, pun unintended.
Vanishing Point might not boast the impressive production values of other movies on this list, but considering Tarantino would go on to feature a white Challenger in Death Proof, its influence in the car cinema canon is undeniable.
If the Fast franchise is going to break out of its recent slump, it would do well to remember that there’s nothing better than letting its heroes live their lives a quarter mile at a time—no detours to outer space required.
The sheer scale of The Blues Brothers’ final set piece is commendable in and of itself—as is the movie’s commitment to treating real-life cars like a bunch of Hot Wheels.
Baby Driver’s gimmick stretches a little thin by the end, but it’s hard to deny the crowd-pleasing power of Wright’s film when it’s firing on all cylinders.
This belongs in an entirely new category of combat: car fights. There are so many action scenes in The Raid 2 worth writing home about—the kitchen showdown is an all-timer—but the fact that Evans casually tossed in an unforgettable car chase shows why he’s one of one.
If the general vibes of The Driver seem familiar, that’s because it was a major inspiration for Nicolas Winding Refn’s Drive, which just so happened to feature an unnamed protagonist (Ryan Gosling) evading police through the streets of Los Angeles.
If I’m being honest, I’m usually one of those people who doesn’t like the Bourne movies’ shaky-cam style, but when it’s executed with such craftsmanship, you can’t help but get caught up in its adrenaline-pumping power.
The sequence isn’t quite at the level of Bullitt or The French Connection—very few are—but D’Antoni still manages to leave an unmistakable imprint on the car chase canon.
If the Academy handed out Oscars to stunt performers—and let’s hope it does happen one day—Bell would’ve won in a landslide.
The fact that Friedkin shot the chase at the end of filming—in case anything disastrous happened to the actors—underscores just how risky the endeavor was. The pulse-pounding results speak for themselves.
The Matrix remains the Wachowskis’ masterpiece, but don’t get it twisted: The filmmakers were still cooking with gas in the sequel.
While Halicki wound up making a few more indies after Gone in 60 Seconds, he died in an accident on the set of its sequel. His legacy as a do-it-all daredevil, however, lives on.
Big Jim is still revolutionizing what can be achieved with visual effects in the Avatar franchise, and while I cherish those movies, nothing beats his old-school showmanship.
Spielberg would move on to bigger and better things after Duel, but considering how much the director accomplished with so little, you can’t help but wonder what else he could conjure up with limited resources.
To quote Steven Soderbergh’s thoughts on Fury Road: “I don’t understand how they’re not still shooting that film and I don’t understand how hundreds of people aren’t dead.” Whether or not Miller manages to one-up the action in Furiosa, the director is already in the pantheon.
My Ringer colleague Justin Sayles believes The French Connection’s chase should’ve landed at no. 1, and I’m sure many folks will agree with him. Being the only film on this list to win Best Picture, however, is a solid consolation prize.
That the car driven by McQueen was recently sold at auction for $3.74 million, a then-record price for a Mustang, underlines Bullitt’s enduring legacy.
There are many worthy car chases in this ranking, but in my view, Ronin takes pole position. And while I can’t imagine a movie ever topping what Frankenheimer achieved, I’d love nothing more than to be proved wrong.
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In honor of the imminent ‘Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga,’ we’re shifting into high gear to determine the best chase scene in cinema history
By Miles Surrey May 21, 2024, 6:30am EDTGetty Images/Ringer illustration
After wowing audiences with Mad Max: Fury Road, director George Miller returns to the franchise’s post-apocalyptic wastelands for Furiosa, the epic origin story of the eponymous heroine (now played by Anya Taylor-Joy), premiering on Friday. As the follow-up to one of the greatest action films ever made, it’s hard to overstate the hype for Furiosa, and that was before word got out about a showstopping 15-minute sequence that required nearly 200 stuntpeople and took 78 days to shoot. While Furiosa will have its own distinct flavor, as is true of every Mad Max movie, there’s one thing that unites these projects: intense, jaw-dropping scenes of vehicular mayhem. And what better way to honor the franchise than by celebrating what it does best?
Ahead of Furiosa’s release, we’ve put together our definitive ranking of the best car chases in cinema. There weren’t any strict rules in place, other than capping the list at 20—mostly for my own sanity—and limiting every franchise to one entry. (Apologies to Fury Road’s kickass predecessor The Road Warrior.) We also won’t discriminate against scenes that feature motorbikes, so long as cars (and/or trucks) remain part of the equation. As for what, exactly, constitutes a good car chase? Like list making, it’s bound to be subjective, but I tend to gravitate toward two key elements: the skill of the stuntwork on display and the ways in which a filmmaker conveys the action in relation to the story. (Also, the less CGI, the better.) Buckle up, ’cause we’re not wasting any time shifting into high gear.
20. Quantum of Solace (2008)
There have been some memorable car chases in the James Bond franchise: the first sequence featuring the iconic Aston Martin DB5 in Goldfinger, the corkscrew jump in The Man With the Golden Gun, the Lotus Esprit submarine in The Spy Who Loved Me. But I’m going with a somewhat controversial pick here: Quantum of Solace. There are many issues with Quantum of Solace—namely, it was one of the most high-profile blockbusters affected by the 2007-08 writers strike—but its opening scene isn’t one of them. Picking up right where Casino Royale left off, we find Bond (Daniel Craig) evading henchmen through the narrow roads around Italy’s Lake Garda. The frenetic, furious chase mirrors Bond’s sense of anguish after losing Vesper Lynd (Eva Green), the woman he opened his heart to, and his relentless quest for answers. It’s a thrilling tone-setter for Quantum of Solace and one that doesn’t overstay its welcome, capped off by Bond sending his final pursuers flying off a cliff:If we’re being honest, though, it feels like James Bond has yet to create a franchise-defining car chase. Perhaps that’s a mission the newest 007, whoever it ends up being, can undertake.
19. Mission: Impossible—Rogue Nation (2015)
The Mission: Impossible franchise is no stranger to electrifying chase scenes, the best of which find Tom Cruise’s Ethan Hunt working up his heart rate. When it comes to action behind the wheel, though, Fallout tends to dominate the discussion—even on this very website. But I think the vehicular chase in Rogue Nation is being slept on. What we have is effectively two sequences for the price of one: The first finds Hunt pursuing Ilsa Faust (Rebecca Ferguson) by car through the narrow streets of Casablanca alongside some nefarious henchmen; the second sees him continue the chase outside the city on motorbike. (Adding to the chaos: Hunt had only just been resuscitated, and he’s clearly not all there.) In terms of death-defying stunts for the audience’s entertainment, a helmetless Cruise taking corners like a MotoGP racer is child’s play compared to his other exploits, but the actor’s authentic reaction to scraping his knee on the road underlines that there’s no one else in Hollywood doing it like him:We’ll be sure to update this ranking if and when Cruise does something even more dangerous down the road, pun unintended.
18. Vanishing Point (1971)
A movie that counts the likes of Steven Spielberg and Quentin Tarantino among its biggest fans, Vanishing Point is the first of a few entries on this ranking that’s essentially one extended car chase. The film stars Barry Newman as Kowalski, a man tasked with delivering a Dodge Challenger T 440 Magnum from Colorado to California while eluding police across four states. One of Kowalski’s most memorable run-ins comes when a guy driving a Jaguar E-Type convertible challenges him to an impromptu race. Incredibly, we’re expected to believe the man in the Jag comes out of this crash in one piece:Vanishing Point might not boast the impressive production values of other movies on this list, but considering Tarantino would go on to feature a white Challenger in Death Proof, its influence in the car cinema canon is undeniable.
17. Fast Five (2011)
Let’s face it, Fast & Furious has seen better days. Some believe the franchise’s dip in quality coincided with the death of Paul Walker; others are dismayed by the pivot from street racing to absurd feats of superherodom—emphasis on the Dom. Perhaps it’s a bit of both, but the very best movie in the series, Fast Five, manages to strike the perfect balance: It’s a relatively grounded heist thriller that nevertheless takes the franchise to ridiculous new heights. After Dominic Toretto (Vin Diesel) and his crew steal $100 million from a Brazilian kingpin, they drag the entire bank vault holding the money through the streets of Rio de Janeiro, all while being pursued by authorities. It’s a delightfully destructive sequence that does untold damage to Rio’s infrastructure and features some of the most bone-crunching crashes committed to film:If the Fast franchise is going to break out of its recent slump, it would do well to remember that there’s nothing better than letting its heroes live their lives a quarter mile at a time—no detours to outer space required.
16. The Blues Brothers (1980)
A good car chase isn’t reserved just for action flicks: Comedies can get in on the act, too. In The Blues Brothers, starring the recurring Saturday Night Live characters played by John Belushi and Dan Aykroyd, the beloved bandmates must prevent the foreclosure of the orphanage where they were raised by scrounging together $5,000. Naturally, that’s easier said than done: Along the way, the Blues Brothers draw the attention of neo-Nazis, a country-and-western band, and local police. While The Blues Brothers has amusing gags and musical numbers, its chase sequences with the Brothers behind the wheel of a 1974 Dodge Monaco are what really steal the show—and none are better than a climactic pursuit across Chicago. More than 60 old police cars were used in the film, some of which are wrecked in a comically over-the-top pileup:The sheer scale of The Blues Brothers’ final set piece is commendable in and of itself—as is the movie’s commitment to treating real-life cars like a bunch of Hot Wheels.
15. Baby Driver (2017)
For good and for ill, Edgar Wright’s movies exude an abundance of style, and Baby Driver is no exception. Baby Driver is centered on a clever gimmick: The action works in tandem with its soundtrack because the film’s protagonist, Baby (Ansel Elgort), suffers from tinnitus and constantly plays music to drown out the ringing. When everything’s clicking into place, Baby Driver feels like a supersized series of music videos, and nothing hits quite like its opening sequence. Baby acts as the getaway driver for a bank robbery while listening to the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion’s “Bellbottoms.” The ensuing chase works around rhythms of the song, as if Baby’s Subaru WRX were the star of its own dance number. Take nothing away from the actual driving, either, which puts the rally car to good use:Baby Driver’s gimmick stretches a little thin by the end, but it’s hard to deny the crowd-pleasing power of Wright’s film when it’s firing on all cylinders.
14. The Raid 2 (2014)
With a trio of kickass Indonesian martial arts films under his belt, Gareth Evans has established himself as one of the most exciting action directors on the planet—someone who seems most in his element staging positively brutal hand-to-hand combat. In The Raid 2, however, Evans also brought his signature brand of carnage to the road. While there’s some cleverly executed close-quarters fighting within the confines of an SUV, courtesy of Iko Uwais’s hard-hitting protagonist, what really cements this sequence’s greatness are the moments when Evans turns the cars into an extension of the characters’ fists:This belongs in an entirely new category of combat: car fights. There are so many action scenes in The Raid 2 worth writing home about—the kitchen showdown is an all-timer—but the fact that Evans casually tossed in an unforgettable car chase shows why he’s one of one.
13. The Driver (1978)
I’ll say this for Walter Hill’s The Driver: It sure lives up to its title. In this stripped-down thriller—one where none of the characters have a name—we follow the Driver (Ryan O’Neal), a getaway driver who has become a thorn in the side of the LAPD. In the film’s best scene, we see its taciturn protagonist living up to his reputation. With the Driver behind the wheel of a 1974 Ford Galaxie, a cat-and-mouse game unfolds when a handful of police cars are hot on his tail. What I love about this sequence is the pared-down nature of it all: The Driver outwits the cops as much as he outraces them. (Though, ironically, that wasn’t entirely by design: As Hill later explained, an accident on the last night of shooting meant they had to cobble together what had already been filmed.) Frankly, you’d never know the difference from the finished article:If the general vibes of The Driver seem familiar, that’s because it was a major inspiration for Nicolas Winding Refn’s Drive, which just so happened to feature an unnamed protagonist (Ryan Gosling) evading police through the streets of Los Angeles.
12. The Bourne Supremacy (2004)
The shaky-cam style of the Bourne franchise isn’t for everyone—just ask John Woo—but credit where it’s due: These movies know how to deliver a good chase scene. (A friendly reminder that The Bourne Legacy is an underrated gem with an awesome motorbike sequence to boot.) But there’s one Bourne chase that stands above the rest: the Moscow getaway in The Bourne Supremacy. After being wounded by the Russian assassin Kirill (Karl Urban), Jason Bourne (Matt Damon) hijacks a taxi, with both the police and Kirill in hot pursuit. This isn’t the kind of sequence that lingers on any one shot; instead, what makes it work is the frenetic nature of the editing, which allows the viewer to feel like they’re in Bourne’s fight-or-flight headspace:If I’m being honest, I’m usually one of those people who doesn’t like the Bourne movies’ shaky-cam style, but when it’s executed with such craftsmanship, you can’t help but get caught up in its adrenaline-pumping power.
11. The Seven-Ups (1973)
Philip D’Antoni was the producer of two movies featuring Hall of Fame car chases, Bullitt and The French Connection, the latter of which won him an Oscar for Best Picture. And with his lone directorial feature, The Seven-Ups, D’Antoni sought to craft an iconic sequence of his own. The film stars Roy Scheider as NYPD detective Buddy Mannuci (elite Italian American name; I can practically smell the gabagool), who commands a unit handling major felony cases that lead to seven-plus-year prison sentences; that’s why they’re known as the Seven-Ups. Midway through the movie, when one of the team members is killed by two shooters who flee the scene, Buddy chases after them. The 10-minute sequence, which starts in the Upper West Side before moving out of the city, is thrillingly immersive, alternating between close-ups of the characters and wider shots of all the damage they’ve caused. But the chase’s defining moment comes right at the end, when Buddy narrowly avoids a grisly death:The sequence isn’t quite at the level of Bullitt or The French Connection—very few are—but D’Antoni still manages to leave an unmistakable imprint on the car chase canon.
10. Death Proof (2007)
If you ask Quentin Tarantino, Death Proof, his knowingly trashy tribute to exploitation cinema, is the worst movie he’s ever made. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t a lot to admire about the film, which honors the unsung heroes of Hollywood: stunt performers. The first half of Death Proof follows three female friends who cross paths with Stuntman Mike (Kurt Russell), a misogynistic serial killer who takes them out in his “death-proof” Chevy Nova. Fourteen months later, a group that includes stuntwoman Zoë Bell, playing herself, also lands on Mike’s radar. As Bell and her friends test out a ’70s Challenger, she performs a “ship’s mast” stunt, clinging onto the hood of the car with fastening belts. Unfortunately, when Mike pursues the women, it puts Bell in a precarious situation. Most of the entries on this list celebrate some next-level driving skills, but Death Proof’s inclusion is all about Bell pulling off one of the wildest stunts you’ll ever see. She’s quite literally hanging on for dear life:If the Academy handed out Oscars to stunt performers—and let’s hope it does happen one day—Bell would’ve won in a landslide.
9. To Live and Die in L.A. (1985)
William Friedkin was already responsible for an all-time great car chase in The French Connection (more on that later), but the filmmaker made a commendable bid to outdo himself with To Live and Die in L.A. In this neo-noir thriller, Secret Service agent Richard Chance (William L. Petersen) is hell-bent on arresting an expert counterfeiter, Rick Masters (Willem Dafoe), who kills Chance’s partner days before his retirement. To capture Masters, Chance and his new partner, John Vukovich (John Pankow), attempt to steal $50,000 from a jewelry buyer for an undercover operation. The sting goes bad when the buyer, who is later revealed to be an undercover FBI agent, is killed and a group of gunmen goes after Chance and Vukovich. It’s a clever inversion of the usual car chase formula—this time, it’s the lawmen running away from the criminals. The outside-the-box thinking extends to the film’s most astonishing stretch, in which Chance evades the gunmen by driving into oncoming traffic:The fact that Friedkin shot the chase at the end of filming—in case anything disastrous happened to the actors—underscores just how risky the endeavor was. The pulse-pounding results speak for themselves.
8. The Matrix Reloaded (2003)
The Matrix sequels have never been held in high esteem, but I’m ready to live my truth: The Matrix Reloaded fucking rules. (If anyone’s got a problem with this take, file your complaints with the Architect.) What’s more, the film happens to boast the finest action set piece of the franchise: the highway chase. After Morpheus (Laurence Fishburne) and Trinity (Carrie-Anne Moss) free the Keymaker (Randall Duk Kim), a program capable of creating shortcuts within the Matrix, they’re pursued by the Twins (Neil and Adrian Rayment). Morpheus once warned that going on the freeway was “suicide,” and it doesn’t take long to see why: The chase draws the attention of several Agents, who repeatedly take over the bodies of other drivers on the road. The scene is the best of both worlds: There’s some incredible stuntwork on display, including when Moss weaves around on a Ducati, and CGI augments some feats of superhuman strength. But the most jaw-dropping aspect of the sequence is how it came together, as the production spent $2.5 million to construct its own highway (!) on California’s Alameda Island. If that weren’t unique enough, I’m pretty sure Reloaded is also the only movie in existence in which a katana takes out an SUV:The Matrix remains the Wachowskis’ masterpiece, but don’t get it twisted: The filmmakers were still cooking with gas in the sequel.
7. Gone in 60 Seconds (1974)
Size isn’t everything, but for H. B. Halicki, who produced, wrote, directed, and starred in Gone in 60 Seconds, it’s certainly part of the package. The indie action flick follows Maindrian Pace (Halicki), a Los Angeles insurance investigator who has a lucrative side hustle jacking high-end cars. The plot kicks into motion when a South American drug lord enlists Pace to nab 48 cars within five days in exchange for $400,000. Of course, Gone in 60 Seconds is best known for what happens after Pace is caught stealing a 1973 Ford Mustang Mach 1, when he leads police on a chase that lasts a whopping 40 minutes. (More than 90 cars were destroyed in the process.) Halicki, for his part, did all the driving himself, including a spectacular jump off a makeshift ramp of crashed cars:While Halicki wound up making a few more indies after Gone in 60 Seconds, he died in an accident on the set of its sequel. His legacy as a do-it-all daredevil, however, lives on.
6. Terminator 2: Judgment Day (1991)
Long before James Cameron immersed himself in the world of Pandora, he was a pioneer of state-of-the-art visual effects. Case in point: Terminator 2: Judgment Day is credited for having the first CGI character in a blockbuster, the T-1000 (Robert Patrick), a killing machine composed of a futuristic liquid metal. But Cameron also understood that the CGI of that era shouldn’t be the main attraction: It worked best as a complement to the practical effects, as seen in Judgment Day’s epic viaduct chase. When the T-1000 tracks down a young John Connor (Edward Furlong) in a shopping mall, he’s saved at the last minute by the Terminator (Arnold Schwarzenegger), giving John a chance to escape on his dirt bike. As the T-1000 gives chase, the David and Goliath vibes between man and machine are further epitomized by the T-1000’s commandeering of a truck. The sequence already has a terrifying sense of urgency, but it hits another level when the T-1000 crashes through the viaduct like the Kool-Aid Man:Big Jim is still revolutionizing what can be achieved with visual effects in the Avatar franchise, and while I cherish those movies, nothing beats his old-school showmanship.
5. Duel (1971)
The feature-length debut of Steven Spielberg—perhaps you’ve heard of him—the TV movie Duel is essentially one extended chase sequence between salesman David Mann (Dennis Weaver) and a sinister trucker determined to drive him off the road. I’ve attached a clip from the ending of the film, but that doesn’t do Duel justice. What cements this movie’s greatness is how it sustains an unbearable level of tension across its 90-minute running time—with a budget under $500,000, no less. Spielberg’s masterstroke is never once showing us the other driver, anthropomorphizing the truck itself as a monster. (You can see a lot of similarities with how he would build suspense in Jaws.) When Mann finally gets the upper hand, tricking his adversary into driving off a cliff, it feels like you can breathe again:Spielberg would move on to bigger and better things after Duel, but considering how much the director accomplished with so little, you can’t help but wonder what else he could conjure up with limited resources.
4. Mad Max: Fury Road (2015)
Like Duel, Fury Road is basically one long car chase—the difference is Miller got to work with a blockbuster budget, and made every cent of it count. It’s hard to pick a single standout sequence in Fury Road, but if I had to choose, I’d go with the first attack on the War Rig after Furiosa (Charlize Theron) flees with the wives of Immortan Joe (Hugh Keays-Byrne). Here’s why: Think back to when you saw Fury Road for the first time, before you fully grasped the vehicular carnage that was in store. And then stuff like this kept happening:To quote Steven Soderbergh’s thoughts on Fury Road: “I don’t understand how they’re not still shooting that film and I don’t understand how hundreds of people aren’t dead.” Whether or not Miller manages to one-up the action in Furiosa, the director is already in the pantheon.
3. The French Connection (1971)
We return to the Friedkin-verse for what may be his best film, The French Connection, the crime thriller based on Robin Moore’s 1969 nonfiction book of the same name. The story concerns two NYPD detectives, Jimmy “Popeye” Doyle (Gene Hackman) and Buddy “Cloudy” Russo (Roy Scheider), and their tireless pursuit of a French heroin smuggler. But while there’s plenty to admire about how The French Connection illustrates the thin line between police and criminals, its greatest claim to fame is its car chase. After Popeye narrowly survives a sniper attack, he goes after the shooter, who escapes on an elevated train. The ensuing sequence is true daredevil filmmaking that Friedkin shot without permits, leading to real crashes with New Yorkers that made the final cut. But Friedkin’s finest touch was mounting a camera to the front of the car, making the audience feel like they’re part of the action:My Ringer colleague Justin Sayles believes The French Connection’s chase should’ve landed at no. 1, and I’m sure many folks will agree with him. Being the only film on this list to win Best Picture, however, is a solid consolation prize.
2. Bullitt (1968)
When it comes to modern car chases, all roads lead back to Bullitt. A Dad Cinema classic, the film stars Steve McQueen as Frank Bullitt, a San Francisco detective who pursues a group of mobsters after a key witness is killed in protective custody. In his search for answers, Bullitt realizes he’s being tailed by a couple of hitmen, and then turns the tables on them. From there, the chase is on. Aside from McQueen doing most of his own stunts behind the wheel of a Ford Mustang GT 390 Fastback, what’s so impressive about the sequence is how timeless it is. Even the little imperfections, like hubcaps repeatedly coming off the wheels, work to the film’s advantage, stressing just how much these drivers are living on a razor’s edge. It’s been more than 50 years since Bullitt revolutionized the car chase, and yet few movies since have felt like they’re pushing the envelope to such an exhilarating degree:That the car driven by McQueen was recently sold at auction for $3.74 million, a then-record price for a Mustang, underlines Bullitt’s enduring legacy.
1. Ronin (1998)
“If I’m going to do a car chase,” filmmaker John Frankenheimer said in an interview with the American Society of Cinematographers, “I’m going to do a car chase that’s going to make somebody think about whether or not they want to do another one!” Boy, did he ever. In Frankenheimer’s late-career masterpiece, Ronin, the director actually incorporated several chases, but it’s the climactic sequence that stands alone as the greatest ever filmed. The movie concerns an international group of mercenaries who are hired to steal a mysterious briefcase; a series of double-crosses and double-bluffs ensue. But for the final chase, all you need to know is that Sam (Robert De Niro), a mercenary with ties to the CIA, is in pursuit of Deirdre (Natascha McElhone), an IRA operative in possession of the case. Winding through the streets and tunnels of Paris, what’s most striking is just how fluid it all feels. You’re completely engrossed in the chase’s forward momentum, captured from every conceivable angle; a symphony of controlled chaos. The driving styles even reflect the characters: Deirdre is reckless and impulsive, while Sam remains calm and controlled.There are many worthy car chases in this ranking, but in my view, Ronin takes pole position. And while I can’t imagine a movie ever topping what Frankenheimer achieved, I’d love nothing more than to be proved wrong.
2024.05.21 14:42 Shadow_Dancer87 someone's vss theory on vss facebook group.. give a read..want to know what you think ratzor24
I spend a lot of time researching how our nervous system works and what may contribute to the development of Visual Snow and other symptoms. Remember that there is a lot of vital information that I do not know, and may greatly benefit our understanding of this condition. Visual snow is described as an "epileptic" firing in the visual system in the brain. (Tinnitus behaves very similarly but it is occurring in the auditory nerves) NMDA glutamate receptors, which are overexpressed after excitotoxic injury may well be the trigger of an increased spontaneous firing in the nerves. In turn, the brain would decode this increased firing as "visual snow" The idea is that remaining nerve endings have been damaged enough to overexpress NMDA Glutamate receptors, thus increasing their spontaneous firing.There are various factors that contribute to the development of this condition. Everybody first had an initial trigger, and this varies from person to person. Common causes include stress, trauma, recreational and prescription drugs, Lyme, mold, heavy metals, and other toxic exposures. But what they all result in is brain injury and neuronal damage. The severity varies from person to person. The consequences of such injury doesn't just cause break in communication between healthy neurons, but a cascade of events that can lead to further neuronal degeneration and cell death. That is where visual snow comes in. Think of a broken radio or a TV where it isn't able to receive and process incoming signals so the outcome is a lot of visual/auditory noise. Our brains behave in a similar manner when there is an interference with proper neuron function and communication.Another good example is a type of neuropathic pain called paresthesia where you experience tingling and pricking sensations in various parts of your body. When nerves are damaged, they can't communicate properly and that miscommunication causes symptoms such as pain, tingling or numbness.Medical researchers searching for new medications for visual snow often look to the connection between the nerve cells in the brain and the various agents that act as neurotransmitters, such as the central nervous system's primary excitatory neurotransmitter glutamate. Visual snow can be caused when damaged brain cells emit an excess of glutamate. Many treatments use ingredients that work as glutamate antagonists, or inhibitors. Communication between nerve cells in the brain is accomplished through the use of neurotransmitters. There are many compounds that act as neurotransmitters including acetylcholine, serotonin, GABA, glutamate, aspartate, epinephrine, norpinephrine and dopamine. These chemicals attach to nerve cells at specific receptors that allow for only one type of neurotransmitter to attach.Some of the neurotransmitters are excitatory; leading to increased electrical transmission between nerve cells. Others are inhibitory and reduce electrical activity. The most common excitatory neurotransmitters are glutamate and aspartate while the primary inhibitory neurotransmitter is GABA. It is necessary for excitatory and inhibitory neurotransmitters to be in balance for proper brain function to occur.Communication over synapses between neurons are controlled by glutamate. When brain cells are damaged, excessive glutamate is released. Glutamate is well known to have neurotoxic properties when excessively released or incompletely recycled. This is known as excitotoxicity and leads to neuronal death.Excess glutamate opens the sodium channel in the neuron and causes it to fire. Sodium continues to flow into the neuron causing it to continue firing. This continuous firing of the neuron results in a rapid buildup of free radicals and inflammatory compounds. These compounds attack the mitochondria, the energy producing elements in the core of the neuron cell. The mitochondria become depleted and the neuron withers and dies.Excitotoxicity has been involved in a number of acute and/or degenerative forms of neuropathology such as epilepsy, autism, ALS, Parkinson’s, schizophrenia, migraines, restless leg syndrome, tourettes, pandas, fibromyalgia, multiple sclerosis, Huntington's, seizures, insomnia, hyperactivity, OCD, bipolar disorder and anxiety disorders.(Doctors use two basic ways to correct this imbalance. The first is to activate GABA receptors that will inhibit the continuous firing caused by glutamate. The second way to correct the imbalance is use antogonists to glutamate and its receptor N-methyl-d-aspartate (NMDA). These are termed glutamate or NMDA antagonists. By binding with these receptors, the antagonist medication reduces glutamate-induced continuous firing of the neuron. This explains why some drugs like clonazepam and lamictal are able to help relieve symptoms in some patients. They help reduce excitatory action in the brain temporarily)Anxiety, depression, brain fog, depersonalization, visual disturbances (including visual snow, palinopsia, blue field entoptic phenomenon, photophobia, photopsia) headaches, tinnitus, are all common symptoms associated with increased excitatory activity in the brain. Excessive glutamate is the primary villain in visual snow.I strongly believe there are some genetic components that play a huge role in the development of Visual Snow and makes some individuals more susceptible to developing it. Normally, glutamate concentration is tightly controlled in the brain by various mechanisms at the synapse. There are at least 30 proteins that are membrane-bound receptor or transporter proteins at, or near, the glutamate synapse that control or modulate neuronal excitability. But in Visual Snow sufferers, my hypothesis is that we carry a faulty gene that results in dysregulation of the proteins that control and regulate glutamate excitability. They are unknown as more research will be needed.We live in a society where we are stressed emotionally, financially, physically and exposed to a range of toxins in our environment. Combining underlying genetic susceptibility with these other factors creates all the ingredients for a perfect storm.Stress + Infectious Agents (if any) + Toxins + Genetic Susceptibility = Health ConditionIncluded below is a list of things that can lead to excitotoxicity. The list includes trauma, drugs, environmental, chemicals and miscellaneous causes of brain cell damage. (Keep in mind everybody's bodies behave and react differently to various substances)-Severe Stress (Most people that are stressed out don’t realize that once the fight-or-flight response gets activated it can release things like cortisol and epinephrine into the body. Although these boost alertness, in major concentrations, the elevated levels of cortisol over an extended period of time can damage brain functioning and kill brain cells)-Free Radicals – Free radicals are highly-reactive forms of oxygen that can kill brain cells and cause brain damage. If the free radicals in your brain run rampant, your neurons will be damaged at a quicker rate than they can be repaired. This leads to brain cell death as well as cognitive decline if not corrected. (Common causes are unhealthy diet, lifestyle and toxic exposure)-Head Trauma (like concussion or contusion) MRI can detect damaged brain tissue BUT not damaged neurons. -Dehydration (severe)-Cerebal Hypoxia-Lyme disease-Narcolepsy-Sleep Apnea-Stroke-Drugs (recreational or prescription) -Amphetamine abuse-Methamphetamines-Antipsychotics-Benzodiazepine abuse-Cocaine-Esctasy -LSD-Cannabis-Tobacco-Inhalants-Nitrous Oxide-PCP-Steroids-Air Pollution-Carbon Monoxide-Heavy Metal Exposure (such as lead, copper and mercury)-Mold Exposure-Welding fumes-Formaldehyde-Solvents-Pesticides-Anesthesia-Aspartame-MSG (Monosodium Glutamate is found in most processed foods and is hidden under many various names)-Solvents-Chemotherapy-Radiation-Other toxic exposuresInside the Glutamate StormBy: Vivian Teichberg, and Luba Vikhanski"The amino acid glutamate is the major signaling chemical in nature. All invertebrates (worms, insects, and the like) use glutamate for conveying messages from nerve to muscle. In mammals, glutamate is mainly present in the central nervous system, brain, and spinal cord, where it plays the role of a neuronal messenger, or neurotransmitter. In fact, almost all brain cells use glutamate to exchange messages. Moreover, glutamate can serve as a source of energy for the brain cells when their regular energy supplier, glucose, is lacking. However, when its levels rise too high in the spaces between cells—known as extracellular spaces—glutamate turns its coat to become a toxin that kills neurons.As befits a potentially hazardous substance, glutamate is kept safely sealed within the brain cells. A healthy neuron releases glutamate only when it needs to convey a message, then immediately sucks the messenger back inside. Glutamate concentration inside the cells is 10,000 times greater than outside them. If we follow the dam analogy, that would be equivalent to holding 10,000 cubic feet of glutamate behind the dam and letting only a trickle of one cubic foot flow freely outside. A clever pumping mechanism makes sure this trickle never gets out of hand: When a neuron senses the presence of too much glutamate in the vicinity—the extracellular space—it switches on special pumps on its membrane and siphons the maverick glutamate back in.This protective pumping process works beautifully as long as glutamate levels stay within the normal range. But the levels can rise sharply if a damaged cell spills out its glutamate. In such a case, the pumps on the cellular membranes can no longer cope with the situation, and glutamate reveals its destructive powers. It doesn’t kill the neuron directly. Rather, it overly excites the cell, causing it to open its pores excessively and let in large quantities of substances that are normally allowed to enter only in limited amounts.One of these substances is sodium, which leads to cell swelling because its entry is accompanied by an inrush of water, needed to dilute the surplus sodium. The swelling squeezes the neighboring blood vessels, preventing normal blood flow and interrupting the supply of oxygen and glucose, which ultimately leads to cell death. Cell swelling, however, is reversible; the cells will shrink back once glutamate is removed from brain fluids. More dangerous than sodium is calcium, which is harmless under normal conditions but not when it rushes inside through excessively opened pores. An overload of calcium destroys the neuron’s vital structures and eventually kills it.Regardless of what killed it, the dead cell spills out its glutamate, all the vast quantities of it that were supposed to be held back by the dam. The spill overly excites more cells, and these die in turn, spilling yet more glutamate. The destructive process repeats itself over and over, engulfing brain areas until the protective pumping mechanism finally manages to stop the spread of glutamate."Recent research has confirmed that hypermetabolism has been primarily found in the right lingual gyrus and left cerebellar anterior lobe of the brain in individuals suffering from visual snow. The definition of hypermetabolism is described as "the physiological state of increased rate of metabolic activity and is characterized by an abnormal increase in metabolic rate." Hypermetabolism typically occurs after significant injury to the body. It serves as one of the body's strongest defence against illness and injury. This means that the brain is trying to compensate for the injured areas in the brain by increasing metabolism to meet it's high energy demands. It is trying to function to the best of it's ability under the circumstances. Normally the body can heal itself and regenerate under the right circumstances. But it is extremely difficult for the central nervous system - which includes the spinal cord and brain to be able to do so, due to it's inhibitory environment which prevents new neurons from forming. That is where stem cells come in. Stem cells are an exciting new discovery, because they can become literally any cell in the body including neurons. This is an amazing scientific breakthrough and has the potential to treat a whole host of conditions. Scientists are currently doing research and conducting trials.Excitotoxicity can trigger your "fight or flight" response, as this is the body's primary response to illness, injury or infection. If the brain and the body remain in the sympathetic fight or flight state for too long and too often, it is degenerative; it breaks us down. If this cycle continues, then eventually the system burns out. It is this cycle that results in autonomic nervous system dysfunction. The results are disastrous, digestion is shut down, metabolism, immune function and the detoxification system is impaired, blood pressure and heart rate are increased, circulation is impaired, sleep is disrupted, memory and cognitive function may be impaired, neurotransmitters are drained, our sense of smell, taste and sound are amplified, high levels of norepinephrine are released in the brain and the adrenal glands release a variety of hormones like adrenaline and cortisol.I believe in order to find a treatment or cure for VS and it's accompanying symptoms, we need to address the underlying cause, reduce the excess excitatory activity in the brain, repair the damaged neurons, regain proper communication between neurons, rebalance the autonomic nervous system and prevent further cellular damage. We also need to figure out what genes, if any come into play. There is still a lot we don't know about the brain because it is such an remarkably complex organ.FAQsWon't lowering the levels of glutamate solve the problem? Well, not necessarily. That is just one piece of the puzzle. You have to remember that Visual Snow is a multifactorial and complex condition in which it stems from a number of different causes and influences. Based on my knowledge and the information I have gathered, I can conclude that the overstimulation of glutamate plays a huge role in VS and some other symptoms we experience. But there is still so much we don't know. That's why more research will be needed.Why is my condition worsening over time?That is a very good question. It is because the physiology, biology and chemistry of your brain and nervous system has been altered and has become dysfunctional since the initial trigger set off a domino of effects that leads to further degradation in the body. This puts a huge strain on your body and is constantly activating your stress response system. This will wreak havoc on your entire body. The stress response system was designed to deal with brief emergencies that threaten survival. It isn't supposed to last very long because the body cannot sustain itself for very long in this state. When you remain in "fight or flight" sympathetic state for too long, it becomes degenerative and breaks our bodies down. This affects every system in the body. When you are constantly under stress, the stress response system never turns off resulting in an ongoing destructive cycle. Stress can also exacerbate all your symptoms and makes you susceptible to developing other chronic health conditions. How is the gut related to VS?Having increased intestinal permeability is very common in this modern world because we are constantly being bombarded by toxins and stress. Our bodies weren't designed to handle such a huge burden. So we end up getting sick and become susceptible to kinds of diseases. Common causes include:-Poor diet (from excessive consumption of foods such as grains, legumes, sugars, alcohol)-Chronic stress-Toxin overload-Gut dysbiosis (It means you have a lack of beneficial bacteria in your gastrointestinal (GI) tract. They are overpowered and outnumbered by pathogens such as pathogenic bacteria, yeast, viruses, parasites)-Overuse of antibiotics When you have increased intestinal permeability, the epithelium on the villi of the small intestine becomes inflamed and irritated, which allows metabolic, microbial and environmental toxins and undigested food particles to flood into the blood stream. This event compromises the liver, the lymphatic system, and the immune response including the endocrine system. It is often the primary cause of the following common conditions: asthma, food allergies, chronic sinusitis, eczema, urticaria, migraine, irritable bowel, fungal disorders, fibromyalgia, and inflammatory joint disorders including rheumatoid arthritis are just a few of the diseases that can originate from having poor gut health.This sets the stage for chronic systemic inflammation, oxidative stress, mitochondrial dysfunction, impaired detoxification, gastrointestinal dysfunction and immune system dysregulation.Some toxins have the ability to damage and destroy neurons, myelin sheaths, synapses and even DNA. An overload of toxins that the immune system is not able to get rid of disrupts normal brain function. This eventually initiates an autoimmune response where the immune system attacks the brain and nerve cells as it tries it’s best to eliminate the toxins.The mitochondria are the energy producing section of your cells. When they are damaged by the toxic overload in the brain cells and are not able to produce energy to fuel the cell, the cell dies.In order to stop this vicious cycle, the underlying biological mechanisms of VS needs to be understood. That is the first step that needs to be taken. Any other stressors also needs to be addressed in order to reduce the overall stress load.It is important to know that VS is just a symptom of underlying physiological stress in the brain. Symptoms are your body's way of communicating with you, letting you know something is wrong in the body.I've come across some research indicating that microglial activation and elevated nitric oxide is involved in some neurological conditions. Basically the microglial cells are our brain's immune cells and when something triggers an inflammatory response, they activate and release harmful neurotoxic compounds (such as nitric oxide and pro-inflammatory cytokines) which results in neuronal injury/death. Microglial activation can also result in a loss of synaptic connections in different regions of the brain. It's basically an autoimmune response in the brain. The neuroinflammatory process appears to be an ongoing and chronic cycle of central nervous system dysfunction. This can deplete glutathione levels in the body. Glutathione is the body’s most important antioxidant which is capable of preventing oxidative damage caused by reactive oxygen species such as free radicals, peroxides, lipid peroxides, and heavy metals. This only further exaggerates the problem, which only leads to a cascade of increased inflammation.Nitric oxide plays a vital role in this process. Elevated nitric oxide levels reduces and impair natural killer cells which leads to a vulnerable immune system that is susceptible to a variety of systemic infections. -Phobe Zhang
submitted by Shadow_Dancer87 to visualsnow [link] [comments]
2024.05.21 14:29 adulting4kids Poetry Course Week Three and Four
Week 3: Limericks and the Art of Humor
Day 1: Decoding Limericks - Activity: Analyze classic limericks for rhythm and humor. - Lecture: Discuss the AABBA rhyme scheme and distinctive rhythm. - Discussion: Share favorite humorous poems and discuss elements that make them funny.
Day 2: Crafting Limericks with Wit - Activity: Write limericks individually, focusing on humor and rhythm. - Lecture: Explore the balance of humor and structure in limericks. - Discussion: Share and discuss individual limericks, highlighting successful elements.
Day 3: Understanding Free Verse - Activity: Analyze free verse poems for structure and expression. - Lecture: Introduce the concept of free verse and its flexibility. - Discussion: Discuss the liberation and challenges of writing without a strict structure.
Day 4: Writing Exercise - Expressing Emotions in Free Verse - Activity: Explore emotions and write a free verse poem. - Assignment: Craft a free verse poem exploring a personal experience or emotion. - Vocabulary Words: Enjambment, Cadence, Anapest.
Day 5: Peer Review and Feedback - Activity: Peer review workshop for free verse poems. - Lecture: Discuss the artistic freedom and impact of free verse. - Discussion: Share insights gained from reviewing peers' free verse poems.
Study Guide Questions for Week 3: 1. What defines a limerick, and how does its rhythm contribute to its humor? 2. Discuss the importance of the AABBA rhyme scheme in limericks. 3. How does free verse differ from structured forms of poetry? 4. Explore the challenges and benefits of writing without a strict form in free verse. 5. Reflect on the emotions and experiences expressed in your free verse poem.
Quiz: Assessment on limericks, the AABBA rhyme scheme, and the principles of free verse.
Week 4: Free Verse and Acrostic Poetry
Day 1: Embracing Free Verse - Activity: Analyze diverse free verse poems for individual expression. - Lecture: Discuss famous free verse poets and their impact on the genre. - Discussion: Share personal reactions to the artistic freedom of free verse.
Day 2: Crafting Emotion in Free Verse - Activity: Write a free verse poem expressing a specific emotion. - Lecture: Explore the role of emotions in free verse and the use of vivid imagery. - Discussion: Share and discuss individual poems, highlighting emotional impact.
Day 3: Understanding Acrostic Poetry - Activity: Analyze acrostic poems for clever wordplay. - Lecture: Explain the concept of acrostic poetry and its various forms. - Discussion: Share examples of creative acrostic poems.
Day 4: Writing Exercise - Personal Acrostic - Activity: Craft an acrostic poem using your name or a chosen word. - Assignment: Write an acrostic poem exploring a theme or concept. - Vocabulary Words: Strophe, Stanza, Consonance.
Day 5: Peer Review and Feedback - Activity: Peer review workshop for acrostic poems. - Lecture: Discuss the playfulness and creativity of acrostic poetry. - Discussion: Share insights gained from reviewing peers' acrostic poems.
Study Guide Questions for Week 4: 1. Explore the role of emotions in free verse poetry. How does it differ from structured forms? 2. Discuss the impact of vivid imagery in free verse. How does it contribute to the overall message? 3. What defines acrostic poetry, and how is it different from other forms? 4. How can clever wordplay enhance the impact of an acrostic poem? 5. Reflect on the creative process and thematic exploration in your acrostic poem.
Quiz: Assessment on understanding free verse, emotional expression in poetry, and the principles of acrostic poetry.
submitted by adulting4kids to writingthruit [link] [comments]
Day 1: Decoding Limericks - Activity: Analyze classic limericks for rhythm and humor. - Lecture: Discuss the AABBA rhyme scheme and distinctive rhythm. - Discussion: Share favorite humorous poems and discuss elements that make them funny.
Day 2: Crafting Limericks with Wit - Activity: Write limericks individually, focusing on humor and rhythm. - Lecture: Explore the balance of humor and structure in limericks. - Discussion: Share and discuss individual limericks, highlighting successful elements.
Day 3: Understanding Free Verse - Activity: Analyze free verse poems for structure and expression. - Lecture: Introduce the concept of free verse and its flexibility. - Discussion: Discuss the liberation and challenges of writing without a strict structure.
Day 4: Writing Exercise - Expressing Emotions in Free Verse - Activity: Explore emotions and write a free verse poem. - Assignment: Craft a free verse poem exploring a personal experience or emotion. - Vocabulary Words: Enjambment, Cadence, Anapest.
Day 5: Peer Review and Feedback - Activity: Peer review workshop for free verse poems. - Lecture: Discuss the artistic freedom and impact of free verse. - Discussion: Share insights gained from reviewing peers' free verse poems.
Study Guide Questions for Week 3: 1. What defines a limerick, and how does its rhythm contribute to its humor? 2. Discuss the importance of the AABBA rhyme scheme in limericks. 3. How does free verse differ from structured forms of poetry? 4. Explore the challenges and benefits of writing without a strict form in free verse. 5. Reflect on the emotions and experiences expressed in your free verse poem.
Quiz: Assessment on limericks, the AABBA rhyme scheme, and the principles of free verse.
Week 4: Free Verse and Acrostic Poetry
Day 1: Embracing Free Verse - Activity: Analyze diverse free verse poems for individual expression. - Lecture: Discuss famous free verse poets and their impact on the genre. - Discussion: Share personal reactions to the artistic freedom of free verse.
Day 2: Crafting Emotion in Free Verse - Activity: Write a free verse poem expressing a specific emotion. - Lecture: Explore the role of emotions in free verse and the use of vivid imagery. - Discussion: Share and discuss individual poems, highlighting emotional impact.
Day 3: Understanding Acrostic Poetry - Activity: Analyze acrostic poems for clever wordplay. - Lecture: Explain the concept of acrostic poetry and its various forms. - Discussion: Share examples of creative acrostic poems.
Day 4: Writing Exercise - Personal Acrostic - Activity: Craft an acrostic poem using your name or a chosen word. - Assignment: Write an acrostic poem exploring a theme or concept. - Vocabulary Words: Strophe, Stanza, Consonance.
Day 5: Peer Review and Feedback - Activity: Peer review workshop for acrostic poems. - Lecture: Discuss the playfulness and creativity of acrostic poetry. - Discussion: Share insights gained from reviewing peers' acrostic poems.
Study Guide Questions for Week 4: 1. Explore the role of emotions in free verse poetry. How does it differ from structured forms? 2. Discuss the impact of vivid imagery in free verse. How does it contribute to the overall message? 3. What defines acrostic poetry, and how is it different from other forms? 4. How can clever wordplay enhance the impact of an acrostic poem? 5. Reflect on the creative process and thematic exploration in your acrostic poem.
Quiz: Assessment on understanding free verse, emotional expression in poetry, and the principles of acrostic poetry.
2024.05.21 13:56 InternationalIdea365 Another poem on Eth
In realms of code, a new sun gleams, Ethereum, a digital stream. Not forged in fire, nor mined from deep, A blockchain's song, where secrets sleep.
With clever contracts, self-made law, Decentralized dreams, without a flaw. Smart tokens dance, a vibrant hum, NFTs take flight, on wings of come.
The coin of Ether, a flickering flame, A promise of freedom, whispered name. Hope for artists, a canvas bright, Owning their work, in digital light.
But whispers rise, of market's sway, Volatility's bite, each passing day. Bubbles may burst, fortunes may flee, A digital gamble, wild and free.
Yet still it burns, a hopeful spark, A revolution's flame, leaving its mark. The future beckons, veiled in mist, Will Ethereum rise? Only time will insist.
submitted by InternationalIdea365 to ethereum [link] [comments]
With clever contracts, self-made law, Decentralized dreams, without a flaw. Smart tokens dance, a vibrant hum, NFTs take flight, on wings of come.
The coin of Ether, a flickering flame, A promise of freedom, whispered name. Hope for artists, a canvas bright, Owning their work, in digital light.
But whispers rise, of market's sway, Volatility's bite, each passing day. Bubbles may burst, fortunes may flee, A digital gamble, wild and free.
Yet still it burns, a hopeful spark, A revolution's flame, leaving its mark. The future beckons, veiled in mist, Will Ethereum rise? Only time will insist.
2024.05.21 12:55 chanma50 'Hit Man' Review Thread
I will continue to update this post as reviews come in.
Rotten Tomatoes: Certified Fresh
Critics Consensus: A deceptively dark thriller that's also loaded with laughs, Hit Man is an outstanding showcase for leading man Glen Powell -- and one of the most purely entertaining films of Richard Linklater's career.
Metacritic: 82 (21 Reviews)
Sample Reviews:
“Hit Man” is studded with delicious moments, but as amusing as the movie is it has a plot that sprawls forward in a rather ungainly fashion, and it goes on for too long. - Owen Gleiberman, Variety
Smart and steamy screwball fun. - Leslie Felperin, Hollywood Reporter
The comedy is a deliriously entertaining star vehicle for actor Glen Powell. - Ben Croll, TheWrap
“Hit Man,” Linklater’s latest film, falls into the fun-with-a-heart (and brain) category. It’s got a lot going for it. For one thing, there’s Linklater’s deft touch, particularly when juggling comedy and romance (with a little crime drama thrown in). 4/5 - Bill Goodykoontz, Arizona Republic
A smartly written, sublimely comedic, and sexy human-scale relationship story with a touch of just enough suspense and hints of criminality to prove that its title is not a complete misnomer. 4/5 - Cary Darling, Houston Chronicle
In the hands of a lesser director, Hit Man would surely have felt rather thin and disposable. But Linklater is a pro, and he manages to make the film’s fripperies feel borderline profound. 4/5 - Xan Brooks, Guardian
An intelligent comedy that contains plenty of laugh-out-loud moments and references Kant and Nietzsche, it is also a thriller that is darker than it first appears. - Jo-Ann Titmarsh, London Evening Standard
Hit Man trips along on great writing, Linklater’s witty, light-touch direction and a rich sense of place, but what makes it especially pleasurable is Powell and Arjona’s naturally steamy rapport. 4/5 - Robbie Collin, Daily Telegraph (UK)
... An effervescent comedy from Richard Linklater that simultaneously snubs its nose at the entire genre while easily nabbing the honour of most purely entertaining film to grace the Lido so far. 4/5 - Kevin Maher, Times (UK)
Another, crueller writer-director would have pivoted to scenes of bloody violence, but Linklater prefers to ponder the question of whether you can will yourself into becoming a different person. 4/5 - Nicholas Barber, BBC.com
A sorta-true story about an average guy who finds himself caught in a web of crime and deception, Hit Man is a cute and clever (sometimes overbearingly so) showcase for Powell’s magnetic charm. - Richard Lawson, Vanity Fair
The police scenes are just light enough to be funny, the screwball sequences are just dark enough to keep you on the edge of your seat, and Powell... is obviously elated to be handling such twisty material. - Shirley Li, The Atlantic
This genial comedy/noir is a genuine crowdpleaser – funny, sexy, clever and confident in building a low-key humour which hits the target over and over again. - Fionnuala Halligan, Screen International
It’s a genuinely riotous time at the cinema and concrete proof Powell is perhaps our brightest hope when it comes to keeping the notion of the movie star alive. - Hannah Strong, Little White Lies
Hit Man is hot and hilarious, a winning combination amplified by a story that gets knottier at every turn. - Nick Schager, The Daily Beast
Powell’s ability to power through some dull material on charm alone only reaffirms the credibility of his stardom, and the film’s general lack of ambition keeps things from going awry whenever a joke doesn’t land. Aim small, miss small. B- - David Ehrlich, indieWire
I’s just fun to watch good old-fashioned comedy in which love, danger, and happy endings are all part of a damn fine evening at the movies. - Alissa Wilkinson, Vox
With Richard Linklater’s Hitman, the charismatic Glen Powell has been offered a plum opportunity to shape his image into something more complicated and often poignant. 3/4 - Zach Lewis, Slant Magazine
[A] light-and-lively comedy. - Jordan Hoffman, The Messenger
Comfortably Linklater’s best movie since Boyhood, Hit Man stands alongside School of Rock for big laughs and good vibes – albeit with a darker streak that slowly kicks in. 4/5 - Philip De Semlyen, Time Out
Powell and Linklater would have done better to take Johnson’s story as a launching point and then spun off into their far more complicated version of his life without literally tethering the movie to a real person. - Alonso Duralde, The Film Verdict
Linklater has long had a gift with playful humor, and he nails the tone here without turning “Hit Man” into the slapstick it could have become. - Brian Tallerico, RogerEbert.com
A comedy/thriller that’s in equal parts charming, nerve-wracking, and ethically challenging. - Glenn Kenny, RogerEbert.com
Every interesting aspect of the true story and the imagined story are smoothed out. - Drew Gregory, Autostraddle
The smoldering, wily, wild-but-true Hit Man returns Linklater to his loquacious take on romance, with a man using his gift of gab to shrug off himself. - Charles Bramesco, Inside Hook
A witty, relaxed, and cheerfully fictionalized comedy-caper-romance; in the bargain there’s some light philosophical meditations on the impermanence of personality. 4/4 - Ty Burr, Ty Burr's Watch List
It’s as if Linklater is playing posthumous wingman for his subject, giving him the rom-com-slick Hollywood ending he never got in life. - Keith Uhlich, (All (Parentheses))
SYNOPSIS:
Oscar-nominated director Richard Linklater’s sunlit neo-noir stars Glen Powell as strait-laced professor Gary Johnson, who moonlights as a fake hit man for the New Orleans Police Department. Preternaturally gifted at inhabiting different guises and personalities to catch hapless people hoping to bump off their enemies, Gary descends into morally dubious territory when he finds himself attracted to one of those potential criminals, a beautiful young woman named Madison (Adria Arjona). As Madison falls for one of Gary’s hit man personas — the mysteriously sexy Ron — their steamy affair sets off a chain reaction of play acting, deception, and escalating stakes. Co-written by Linklater and Powell and inspired by an unbelievable true story, Hit Man is a cleverly existential comedy about identity.
CAST:
SCREENPLAY BY: Richard Linklater, Glen Powell
BASED ON THE TEXAS MONTHLY ARTICLE BY: Skip Hollandsworth
PRODUCED BY: Mike Blizzard, Richard Linklater, Glen Powell, Jason Bateman, Michael Costigan
EXECUTIVE PRODUCERS: Stuart Ford, Zach Garrett, Miguel A. Palos Jr., Shivani Rawat, Julie Goldstein, Vicky Patel, Steve Barnett, Alan Powell, John Sloss, Scott Brown, Megan Creydt
DIRECTOR OF PHOTOGRAPHY: Shane F. Kelly
PRODUCTION DESIGNER: Bruce Curtis
EDITED BY: Sandra Adair
COSTUME DESIGNER: Juliana Hoffpauir
MUSIC BY: Graham Reynolds
MUSIC SUPERVISORS: Randall Poster, Meghan Currier
CASTING BY: Vicky Boone
RUNTIME: 115 Minutes
RELEASE DATE: May 24, 2024 (Limited Theatrical in US; Wide Theatrical in Canada) / June 7 (Netflix)
submitted by chanma50 to boxoffice [link] [comments]
Rotten Tomatoes: Certified Fresh
Critics Consensus: A deceptively dark thriller that's also loaded with laughs, Hit Man is an outstanding showcase for leading man Glen Powell -- and one of the most purely entertaining films of Richard Linklater's career.
| Score | Number of Reviews | Average Rating | |
|---|---|---|---|
| All Critics | 96% | 81 | 8.30/10 |
| Top Critics | 93% | 27 | 8.00/10 |
Sample Reviews:
“Hit Man” is studded with delicious moments, but as amusing as the movie is it has a plot that sprawls forward in a rather ungainly fashion, and it goes on for too long. - Owen Gleiberman, Variety
Smart and steamy screwball fun. - Leslie Felperin, Hollywood Reporter
The comedy is a deliriously entertaining star vehicle for actor Glen Powell. - Ben Croll, TheWrap
“Hit Man,” Linklater’s latest film, falls into the fun-with-a-heart (and brain) category. It’s got a lot going for it. For one thing, there’s Linklater’s deft touch, particularly when juggling comedy and romance (with a little crime drama thrown in). 4/5 - Bill Goodykoontz, Arizona Republic
A smartly written, sublimely comedic, and sexy human-scale relationship story with a touch of just enough suspense and hints of criminality to prove that its title is not a complete misnomer. 4/5 - Cary Darling, Houston Chronicle
In the hands of a lesser director, Hit Man would surely have felt rather thin and disposable. But Linklater is a pro, and he manages to make the film’s fripperies feel borderline profound. 4/5 - Xan Brooks, Guardian
An intelligent comedy that contains plenty of laugh-out-loud moments and references Kant and Nietzsche, it is also a thriller that is darker than it first appears. - Jo-Ann Titmarsh, London Evening Standard
Hit Man trips along on great writing, Linklater’s witty, light-touch direction and a rich sense of place, but what makes it especially pleasurable is Powell and Arjona’s naturally steamy rapport. 4/5 - Robbie Collin, Daily Telegraph (UK)
... An effervescent comedy from Richard Linklater that simultaneously snubs its nose at the entire genre while easily nabbing the honour of most purely entertaining film to grace the Lido so far. 4/5 - Kevin Maher, Times (UK)
Another, crueller writer-director would have pivoted to scenes of bloody violence, but Linklater prefers to ponder the question of whether you can will yourself into becoming a different person. 4/5 - Nicholas Barber, BBC.com
A sorta-true story about an average guy who finds himself caught in a web of crime and deception, Hit Man is a cute and clever (sometimes overbearingly so) showcase for Powell’s magnetic charm. - Richard Lawson, Vanity Fair
The police scenes are just light enough to be funny, the screwball sequences are just dark enough to keep you on the edge of your seat, and Powell... is obviously elated to be handling such twisty material. - Shirley Li, The Atlantic
This genial comedy/noir is a genuine crowdpleaser – funny, sexy, clever and confident in building a low-key humour which hits the target over and over again. - Fionnuala Halligan, Screen International
It’s a genuinely riotous time at the cinema and concrete proof Powell is perhaps our brightest hope when it comes to keeping the notion of the movie star alive. - Hannah Strong, Little White Lies
Hit Man is hot and hilarious, a winning combination amplified by a story that gets knottier at every turn. - Nick Schager, The Daily Beast
Powell’s ability to power through some dull material on charm alone only reaffirms the credibility of his stardom, and the film’s general lack of ambition keeps things from going awry whenever a joke doesn’t land. Aim small, miss small. B- - David Ehrlich, indieWire
I’s just fun to watch good old-fashioned comedy in which love, danger, and happy endings are all part of a damn fine evening at the movies. - Alissa Wilkinson, Vox
With Richard Linklater’s Hitman, the charismatic Glen Powell has been offered a plum opportunity to shape his image into something more complicated and often poignant. 3/4 - Zach Lewis, Slant Magazine
[A] light-and-lively comedy. - Jordan Hoffman, The Messenger
Comfortably Linklater’s best movie since Boyhood, Hit Man stands alongside School of Rock for big laughs and good vibes – albeit with a darker streak that slowly kicks in. 4/5 - Philip De Semlyen, Time Out
Powell and Linklater would have done better to take Johnson’s story as a launching point and then spun off into their far more complicated version of his life without literally tethering the movie to a real person. - Alonso Duralde, The Film Verdict
Linklater has long had a gift with playful humor, and he nails the tone here without turning “Hit Man” into the slapstick it could have become. - Brian Tallerico, RogerEbert.com
A comedy/thriller that’s in equal parts charming, nerve-wracking, and ethically challenging. - Glenn Kenny, RogerEbert.com
Every interesting aspect of the true story and the imagined story are smoothed out. - Drew Gregory, Autostraddle
The smoldering, wily, wild-but-true Hit Man returns Linklater to his loquacious take on romance, with a man using his gift of gab to shrug off himself. - Charles Bramesco, Inside Hook
A witty, relaxed, and cheerfully fictionalized comedy-caper-romance; in the bargain there’s some light philosophical meditations on the impermanence of personality. 4/4 - Ty Burr, Ty Burr's Watch List
It’s as if Linklater is playing posthumous wingman for his subject, giving him the rom-com-slick Hollywood ending he never got in life. - Keith Uhlich, (All (Parentheses))
SYNOPSIS:
Oscar-nominated director Richard Linklater’s sunlit neo-noir stars Glen Powell as strait-laced professor Gary Johnson, who moonlights as a fake hit man for the New Orleans Police Department. Preternaturally gifted at inhabiting different guises and personalities to catch hapless people hoping to bump off their enemies, Gary descends into morally dubious territory when he finds himself attracted to one of those potential criminals, a beautiful young woman named Madison (Adria Arjona). As Madison falls for one of Gary’s hit man personas — the mysteriously sexy Ron — their steamy affair sets off a chain reaction of play acting, deception, and escalating stakes. Co-written by Linklater and Powell and inspired by an unbelievable true story, Hit Man is a cleverly existential comedy about identity.
CAST:
- Glen Powell as Gary Johnson
- Adria Arjona as Maddy Masters
- Austin Amelio as Jasper
- Retta as Claudette
SCREENPLAY BY: Richard Linklater, Glen Powell
BASED ON THE TEXAS MONTHLY ARTICLE BY: Skip Hollandsworth
PRODUCED BY: Mike Blizzard, Richard Linklater, Glen Powell, Jason Bateman, Michael Costigan
EXECUTIVE PRODUCERS: Stuart Ford, Zach Garrett, Miguel A. Palos Jr., Shivani Rawat, Julie Goldstein, Vicky Patel, Steve Barnett, Alan Powell, John Sloss, Scott Brown, Megan Creydt
DIRECTOR OF PHOTOGRAPHY: Shane F. Kelly
PRODUCTION DESIGNER: Bruce Curtis
EDITED BY: Sandra Adair
COSTUME DESIGNER: Juliana Hoffpauir
MUSIC BY: Graham Reynolds
MUSIC SUPERVISORS: Randall Poster, Meghan Currier
CASTING BY: Vicky Boone
RUNTIME: 115 Minutes
RELEASE DATE: May 24, 2024 (Limited Theatrical in US; Wide Theatrical in Canada) / June 7 (Netflix)
2024.05.21 11:49 Count-Daring243 Best Cold Steel Smatchet
 | submitted by Count-Daring243 to u/Count-Daring243 [link] [comments] https://preview.redd.it/pksvc1n24r1d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=b7bbd87f65c9604c366faad3911ca9f003c0990f In the world of blades, the Cold Steel Smatchet has made a name for itself. Known for its versatility and quality, this product has caught the attention of many. In this article, we will delve into the unique features and benefits of the Cold Steel Smatchet, showcasing why it has become a popular choice among customers. Come with us as we explore the world of blades and discover what makes the Cold Steel Smatchet stand out from the rest. The Top 20 Best Cold Steel Smatchet
Reviews🔗Stanley Quick Flip Go Water Bottle: 24 oz., Tigerlily, Dishwasher Safehttps://preview.redd.it/70u2s2334r1d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=f71c05c8affa7a4c94dfbb6b87590203cbfc4684 As a product reviewer, I've had the pleasure of trying out the Stanley 24 oz. Quick Flip Go Water Bottle in the Tigerlily color. This water bottle has become a staple in my daily routine. The first thing that caught my eye was its sleek design – perfect for carrying on the go. The double-wall vacuum insulation is a real game-changer. Whether I'm sipping on iced water in the summer or a hot cup of tea in the winter, the temperature remains consistent for hours. One feature I particularly appreciate is the trigger-action lid. It's easy to use and helps prevent spills, making it great for when I'm on the move. Plus, the fact that it's dishwasher safe is a lifesaver. No more scrubbing by hand! However, there are a couple of downsides. Firstly, the weight of the bottle can be a bit of a struggle for those who prefer a lighter option. Secondly, the dimensions might not fit all car cup holders, which can be a hassle during road trips. Overall, the Stanley Quick Flip Go Water Bottle has been a reliable companion in my everyday life. Its combination of style, functionality, and durability make it a must-have for anyone looking for a reliable water bottle. 🔗Cold Steel Heavy Duty Nylon Cane with Rubber Ferrulehttps://preview.redd.it/v48i5gn34r1d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=64aac772c9910fa7f43dc2f916fb8b53b380e7fc I've been using the Cold Steel Heavy Duty Cane in my daily life, and it has proven to be quite the companion. The nylon handle provides an enhanced grip that makes it convenient to hold, while the steel construction ensures structural strength for long-term use. I particularly appreciate the rubber ferrule, which is designed to be slip-resistant, making it an excellent choice for uneven terrain or icy sidewalks. One downside is that it might be a bit heavy for some people, especially those who don't need the extra weight for support. However, the overall design and engineering of the cane are top-notch, and it gives me a sense of reassurance knowing I have a sturdy and reliable walking staff whenever I need it. 🔗Cold Steel Special Forces Shovel: Robust, Stainless Steel Outdoor Essentialhttps://preview.redd.it/onud1it34r1d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=19aa78d8c58949aae696362f44a26b21b9da0dca This past summer, I found myself on a weekend camping trip and realized I didn't pack a shovel. I needed to dig a small trench around my campsite to divert water. Luckily, a friend had a Cold Steel Special Forces Shovel that he let me borrow. On the first day, he taught me how to use it. The edge was sharp, and the handle felt sturdy. I was surprised by how strong it was. I struggled a bit at first, but it didn't take long before I was able to dig the trench. After returning from the camping trip and reflecting on the weekend, I realized that the shovel had some flaws. Firstly, it was a bit heavy for a camping trip, and I felt it could cause strain on my back over time. Secondly, it didn't come with a sheath, which was inconvenient since I had to keep it in my vehicle's trunk, where it took up too much space. Despite these issues, I still appreciated the durability of the Cold Steel Special Forces Shovel. It was clear that it was designed for heavy-duty tasks. The edge remained sharp even after I used it heavily. The wooden handle felt comfortable to hold, even though it was a bit on the thick side. Overall, the Cold Steel Special Forces Shovel was a functional tool, but it could be improved for camping trips or situations where portability is a priority. 🔗Cold Steel Smatchet: Deluxe Edition for Playstation 5https://preview.redd.it/duzypj644r1d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=4feb4a7502a34a0974f6539f3524c5dc9b0652ab As someone who thoroughly enjoyed diving into the Legend of Heroes: Trails of Cold Steel III and IV, let me share my experience with this dynamic duo. The deluxe edition for Playstation 5 was a refreshing return to the rich world of Erebonia, where war hero Rean Schwarzer began his new life as an instructor at Thors Military Academy's branch campus. What stood out to me was how the game expertly handled the aftermath of the Erebonian Civil War and introduced new threats to keep the story alive. Delving into it with the improved RPG gameplay on PlayStation 5 made my journey even more immersive. Plus, the cosmetic DLC available with these iterations ensured that every member of my party was looking their best, adding a unique touch to the experience. However, like any other game, it wasn't all smooth sailing. There were moments that were a bit challenging, but overall, the Legend of Heroes: Trails of Cold Steel III and IV truly delivered an engaging experience that I thoroughly enjoyed as a fan of the genre. 🔗Heavy Duty Cold Grease Remover for Effortless Cleaninghttps://preview.redd.it/u3w4xrr44r1d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=c04c7764c1fb93b8481b812e63772b4366bf500d As a home cook who's always experimenting with new recipes and kitchen tools, I've found myself in a bit of a pickle when it comes to removing stubborn grease from my appliances. That's why I was thrilled to try the Shumanit Cold Grease Remover. Right off the bat, I found it remarkable how quickly this cold grease remover works. No need for a heat source or any harsh chemicals. In fact, it's effective on all sorts of surfaces - my oven, pots, frying pans, baking trays, stainless steel dishes, cooking surfaces, steam extractors, and even hard-to-clean vents. I've had my fair share of leaky packages in the past, but the Shumanit Cold Grease Remover was surprisingly well-packed. It comes in a sturdy plastic bottle with a trigger spray that's easy to use. The product has a delightful citrus smell that lifts the spirits while I'm getting my hands dirty in the kitchen. Plus, the grease and grime just seem to vanish as if by magic. However, there's one small downside to my Shumanit experience. On one occasion, the package was partially leaking, which made me worry about the condition of the other products in the batch. I just hope it was a one-time issue and not a trend. To sum up, the Shumanit Cold Grease Remover is a truly versatile and effective grease and grime remover. It's a lifesaver for anyone who values a sparkling clean kitchen. Let's just hope the packaging improves in the future. 🔗Insulated Stanley Classic Legendary Bottle: Perfect for Outdoor Adventureshttps://preview.redd.it/94c0sq154r1d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=5e05bc9a8d38beb755f6ee94776ff2533d2ed8d3 The Stanley Classic Legendary Bottle is a versatile and durable companion for any outdoor excursion. It's been a part of my camping adventures for years, ensuring that my beverages stay the perfect temperature no matter the weather. The thick stainless steel walls not only keep my iced drinks cold for two days but also keep my hot beverages warm for up to two weeks. Plus, the leak-proof lid doubles as a cup, providing a convenient and easy-to-use option for sipping on the go. The 2.5-quart capacity is ideal for sharing drinks with friends or keeping a large quantity of your favorite beverage at the ready. I've washed my Stanley Classic Legendary Bottle in the dishwasher without any concerns about rust or BPA exposure, and it continues to perform as well as it did on day one. Overall, the Stanley Classic Legendary Bottle has become an essential part of my outdoor gear, and I can't imagine spending time in nature without it. 🔗Stanley Vacuum Insulated 1.5qt Bottle: Leakproof and Durable for Any Adventurehttps://preview.redd.it/hv1cfgh54r1d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=92c3e83a1e6ed9bde65bd49c95962c0425bd9025 For my outdoor adventures, the Stanley Legendary Classic Bottle 1.5qt Habitat has truly been a game-changer. This insulated beverage container ensures my drinks remain at the perfect temperature for hours on end, whether I'm savoring a hot cup of coffee on a chilly morning or enjoying an icy beverage on a sweltering day. One of my favorite features is the stainless steel construction, which not only makes the bottle sturdy and durable but also ensures it's free of BPA, a nice touch for any health-conscious individual. The double-wall vacuum insulation, another key highlight, works wonders in keeping my beverages at their desired temperatures, even in extreme conditions. However, I found that the bottle can be quite difficult to clean, especially along the insulated areas. Additionally, the screw cap lid, while functional, can be a bit tricky to twist off after a while, depending on the grip strength. These minor inconveniences aside, the Stanley Legendary Classic Bottle has proven to be an indispensable companion on all my outdoor excursions. 🔗Versatile Cold Welding Formula for Robust Bondshttps://preview.redd.it/4ogfz5u54r1d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=c4866a573a4c06607a53a48abca3bb57ecd3aa95 Recently, I got my hands on the J-B Weld Original Cold-Weld Formula Steel Reinforced Epoxy. I was intrigued by the fact that it could serve as an inexpensive alternative to welding, soldering, and brazing. To my surprise, this versatile epoxy proved to be a game-changer in my daily life. One of the most impressive features of the J-B Weld epoxy is its water-resistant nature. I used it to seal a leak in my water pipe, and it worked like a charm. The epoxy's petroleum and chemical resistance made it perfect for my project, as it withstood various tests without any damage. Another standout feature of this product is its non-toxic and safe-to-use nature. I used it to fix my child's broken toy, and its safety made me feel more comfortable. However, I did notice that the mixing ratio of the epoxy is quite sensitive. One must be cautious not to deviate too far from the 1-1 ratio of liquid steel/epoxy resin and the hardener. A slight miscalculation could result in a weaker bond or the need for reapplication. In conclusion, the J-B Weld Original Cold-Weld Formula Steel Reinforced Epoxy is a must-have for DIY enthusiasts and professionals alike. Its ease of use, remarkable strength, and versatility make it a standout product in its category. Despite the minor drawback of the mixing ratio, the benefits far outweigh the inconvenience. 🔗Insulated Bottle for Long-Lasting Beverageshttps://preview.redd.it/hjiqws764r1d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=778b7036f610f7931a5d1bf47b1544b1da25f09e I recently put the Stanley Classic to the test on an outing to the mountains. This bottle is a true companion for outdoor enthusiasts, with its impressive 18/8 stainless steel construction and BPA-free design. The 1.5 quart capacity means it can handle all types of drinks, from hot coffee to icy coolers, and keep them at the optimal temperature for up to two days. The folding handle is a clever added feature that allows for easy carrying without the risk of it rolling away. One of the standout features of this bottle is its leakproof design, making it a reliable option for packing in a backpack or storing in a truck bed. The wide mouth also makes it easy to fill and clean, which is especially helpful for those who enjoy making their own homemade brews. However, I did notice that the bottle is quite heavy, weighing in at 2 pounds, making it more challenging to carry for longer periods of time. Overall, the Stanley Classic is an excellent investment for those who love spending time outdoors and need a reliable companion to keep their drinks at the perfect temperature. 🔗Portable Insulated Water Bottle with Silicone Strawhttps://preview.redd.it/l5lg54i64r1d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=e07172bcc88a069950d96dd4cfb862f209f40f40 I recently had the chance to put the Cooper Stainless Steel Water Bottle to the test, and I have to say, it impressed me with its performance. The most standout feature of this water bottle is its ability to keep drinks cold for an impressive amount of time. I often struggle to find a water bottle that can truly keep my beverage chilled all day long, but this one did just that. The double-walled and vacuum insulated design does an excellent job of maintaining the temperature of the liquid inside. Another feature I appreciated is the leak-proof lid. No matter how rough I was with it, it never leaked once. The one-touch silicone push button locking mechanism helped keep my bag and clothes dry, while the straw was a fun and convenient addition. Cleaning it was also a breeze, thanks to the top rack dishwasher safe lids and BPA-free materials. However, I did experience a downside with the product - it isn't suitable for hot beverages. If you're someone who prefers drinking tea or coffee, this may not be the best option for you. Additionally, I found it slightly difficult to fit the bottle in my usual cup holders, which can be inconvenient during travel or at the gym. Overall, the Cooper Stainless Steel Water Bottle did an incredible job of keeping my drinks cold and providing a leak-proof, easy-to-clean design. Although there were minor drawbacks, I still enjoyed its benefits and would definitely recommend it to anyone looking for a reliable and stylish water bottle. 🔗Stanley 1.1 Qt. Legendary Classic Canteen - BPA-Free Stainless Steelhttps://preview.redd.it/fva5u8074r1d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=021a8e122aa23b47e0dbf977a9a0b77939f8066e I recently had the chance to try out the Stanley 1.1 Qt. Classic Canteen, a 18/8 stainless steel bottle that promises to be leakproof, packable, and perfect for outdoor use. At first glance, the canteen looks sleek and sturdy, with a classic design that makes it easy to hold and carry around. It comes equipped with a removeable carrying strap that keeps your hands free and adds a touch of style to the canteen. One of the standout features of this canteen is its non-insulated stainless steel material, which allows for easy packing while still offering a decent capacity for your favorite beverage. However, I found that the lack of insulation means that the canteen doesn't retain temperature as well as I would have liked. While it's fine for day-to-day use, it's not ideal for taking on long hikes or camping trips where maintaining the temperature of your drink is important. Another downside to the canteen is the attached cap, which can be a bit tricky to open and close, especially with one hand. Though I appreciate the convenience of having it attached, it would be nice if the cap were more user-friendly and easy to access. Additionally, the metal clips on the carrying strap can be quite loud when walking or hiking, which can be a bit distracting and might not be the most discreet choice for stealthily navigating through the wilderness. Despite these minor drawbacks, overall I found the Stanley 1.1 Qt. Classic Canteen to be a functional and stylish option for everyday use. It's a good choice if you're looking for a versatile water bottle that won't break the bank, but just remember to manage your expectations when it comes to insulation and noise. 🔗Corkcicle 32oz Sport Canteen: Triple-Insulated, Wide-Mouth Drink Container with Quick Sip Lidhttps://preview.redd.it/g8jdgja74r1d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=5900642083119fc5f56b1e9d8f8477efab04f303 The Corkcicle 32oz Sport Canteen boasts a spacious 950mL capacity, perfect for hydration while on the go. Its quick sip lid adds convenience to everyday use, and the signature flat sides and Duraprene finish ensure a secure grip. Triple-insulation maintains drinks at their desired temperature for extended periods, making it an ideal choice for both hot and chilled beverages alike. A wide mouth allows for ice cube insertion, while the lid's easy-to-use one-hand opening adds practicality. Regrettably, some users have experienced issues with the lid's functionality and structure, which may prove a disadvantage for those seeking a seamless drinking experience. Nonetheless, for those seeking a durable, stylish, and functional water bottle, the Corkcicle 32oz Sport Canteen offers an impressive range of features. 🔗Versatile Insulated Water Bottle with Cup Lidhttps://preview.redd.it/ba7lnum74r1d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=4236dde9fc2a1109edb6d8a02ff4d627c9fb186e This Stanley Classic Legendary Bottle, aptly named "Nightfall, " has become an essential companion in my daily life. The bottle's robustness and dependability have captivated me, as my newfound favorite keeps the brew piping hot during those frigid mornings or even chills your favorite beverage during scorching summer days. One of the key features that have blown my mind is its innovative, leak-proof design. By using the twist-and-pour stopper, it ensures that my adventures are safe from any accidental mishaps involving the bottle. Moreover, the slim design makes it the perfect single-handed companion, ensuring a comfortable grip. However, there are a couple of minor nits. The lid being insulated and doubling as a cup is a fantastic idea, but I found it a tad more tedious than convenient during my first few times. Additionally, while the bottle's sturdiness won my heart, it unfortunately lacks a wider mouth, which might make it a bit more practical for my soup-loving, chunky ingredients cravings. The Stanley's performance has made me believe it's not just about the product but also about the spirit of adventure it represents - one sip at a time. Despite a few minor quirks, it's a reliable bottle worth every penny spent. 🔗Corkcicle Star Wars Darth Vader Canteen: Sleek and Stylish Insulated Travel Drink Bottlehttps://preview.redd.it/xxibmox74r1d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=6584f5a3f92b026e1f6c93d8578b4827c47490b6 Crafted in the image of the infamous Darth Vader, this Corkcicle Star Wars canteen is not just a stylish way to keep your drinks cool. The 16-ounce canteen promises to keep beverages cold for up to 25 hours or warm for 12, all thanks to its triple-insulated lining. Its stainless steel construction ensures it's not just durable but also perfect to use in any setting, be it by the pool or at the office. The canteen is equipped with a screw-on cap that prevents any liquid from escaping and keeps the temperature consistent inside. The ergonomic design and flat sides make it easy to grip, and its stay-put silicone base ensures it stays securely in your hand, avoiding any spills. My experience with this canteen has been nothing but stellar. The Star Wars design is not just aesthetically pleasing but also adds a fun touch to my everyday life. The triple-insulation keeps my beverages at their desired temperature for longer, especially during our hot summers. The cap is a great feature that prevents leaks and spills, and the ergonomic design makes it comfortable to hold. However, I wish the product was dishwasher safe as the paint tends to peel off after a few uses, which can be a bit disappointing. 🔗Premium High-Performance Goalie Blades for Enhanced Ice Skatinghttps://preview.redd.it/v6nom9a84r1d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=47b008d8785f16fed2eb4304d81b2404921a0708 I recently tried the Step Steel St Goal Blacksteel CCM Replacement Steel - Pair, and I was blown away by its performance. The superior edge quality is evident as it slices through the ice with minimal resistance, providing sharp, fluid movements that make it a game-changer for any goalie. Designed specifically for CCM 2-Bolt Goalie Cowlings, this complete set comes with both left and right runners, ensuring perfect fit and seamless functionality. Made in Canada, the high-quality craftsmanship is evident in every aspect of the blade, from its sleek design to its exceptional edge durability. While the hardest possible edge offered by Step Steel Black is undoubtedly impressive, I also appreciate the added Diamond-like carbon (DLC) coating on the mirror side finish, which significantly boosts blade performance by generating a winning combination of low friction and high surface hardness. What sets Step Steel apart from other blade manufacturers is their innovative aspect ratio, which accelerates pushes across the crease for modern butterfly and hybrid goaltenders. The taller blades and truer profile offer added stability, precision, and width, ensuring less bending or improper sizing upon receiving the product. Overall, the Step Steel St Goal Blacksteel CCM Replacement Steel - Pair is a game-changing product that combines superior edge quality, innovative design, and unrivaled performance. If you're looking to enhance your goaltending experience, look no further than Step Steel. Buyer's GuideWelcome to our comprehensive guide on the Cold Steel Smatchet. This guide will help you understand the essential features of this product, the considerations you should make when purchasing, and general advice for using and maintaining it. Remember that specific product picks and external resource links are not included in this guide.What is a Cold Steel Smatchet?A Cold Steel Smatchet is a versatile, lightweight, and handy tool often used for various purposes like camping, hunting, or even self-defense. This unique name comes from the swordsmithing tradition of the same name, originating in Japan, which focuses on crafting blades using hammer forging.Features to Considerhttps://preview.redd.it/zus9kcwa4r1d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=c7c2477753bb2dbaaa691bb7293886bc265400f3 Blade TypeThe Cold Steel Smatchet usually features a semi-rigid, slightly flexible blade. This design provides a balance between strength and versatility. Flexibility allows the blade to bend without breaking when applied with force, while the semi-rigidity maintains its structural integrity.Construction MaterialThe Cold Steel Smatchet is typically made from high-quality, durable materials such as stainless steel or carbon steel. Both materials are rust-resistant, which is crucial for longevity and safety. Stainless steel offers better corrosion resistance, while carbon steel is known for its hardness and edge retention.Handle ConstructionThe handle of a Cold Steel Smatchet should be ergonomic and comfortable to grip. Most models feature a handle made from a combination of natural materials like wood or bone and synthetic materials for a secure and comfortable grip. The handle should provide a good balance of weight distribution and ease of handling.Purchasing Considerationshttps://preview.redd.it/q7nkf59b4r1d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=ae3d4949635abbc6f025f7c457d4764ec846ce37 Durability and LongevityInvest in a Cold Steel Smatchet that is built with high-quality materials and construction techniques. This will ensure that your tool will last for years and perform reliably, even under demanding conditions.MaintenanceProper maintenance is essential to keep your Cold Steel Smatchet in top condition. Regularly clean and sharpen the blade, check for rust, and ensure the handle remains secure and comfortable to grip.General AdviceSafetyAlways handle the Cold Steel Smatchet with utmost care and respect. Mishandling can result in accidents or injuries. Practice proper techniques when using the tool, and keep it away from children and non-experienced users. https://preview.redd.it/fgycujnb4r1d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=f21109260323d230e5e4aee8c298f9f13e4194fe UsageThe Cold Steel Smatchet can be used for various purposes such as cutting, chopping, or even self-defense. Familiarize yourself with the tool's capabilities and limitations before attempting any tasks.StorageStore your Cold Steel Smatchet in a safe, dry, and cool place when not in use. This will help prevent rust and maintain the tool's overall condition.A Cold Steel Smatchet can be a valuable addition to your camping, hunting, or self-defense toolkit. By understanding its essential features, purchasing considerations, and general advice, you can ensure you make the right decision when selecting your Smatchet. FAQWhat is a Cold Steel Smatchet?A Cold Steel Smatchet is a type of weapons that originated in medieval Europe. It is characterized by a short blade and a stout shaft, making it highly effective in close combat situations. Cold Steel offers a modern take on these traditional weapons, with high-quality craftsmanship and materials. https://preview.redd.it/j6rarh5c4r1d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=dce396ee4e0afb182b8420b86182b3dd7df853d5 What materials are used to make Cold Steel Smatchets?Cold Steel Smatchets are made from high-carbon steel, ensuring durability and sharpness. The handle can be made of several materials like wood, bone, or synthetic materials for better grip and comfort.What are the different types of Cold Steel Smatchets?
What are the dimensions of a typical Cold Steel Smatchet?The dimensions of a Cold Steel Smatchet may vary depending on the specific model. However, most models come with a blade length of around 15 inches and an overall length of around 25 inches. It is recommended to check the product listing for the exact dimensions of the model you are interested in.How much does a Cold Steel Smatchet cost?The price of a Cold Steel Smatchet can vary depending on the type, material, and design. Training Smatchets usually start at around $40, while Combat Smatchets and Collector's Edition Smatchets can range from $100 to $200 or more.What is the difference between a Cold Steel Smatchet and a Katana?A Cold Steel Smatchet and a Katana are both types of swords, but they differ in terms of design and structure. A Smatchet is a short, stout blade with a long handle, making it well-suited for close combat. A Katana, on the other hand, is a longer, thinner blade with a more slender handle, designed for slashing rather than thrusting.How do I maintain my Cold Steel Smatchet?To maintain your Cold Steel Smatchet, make sure to clean it after use and store it in a dry, cool place. Regularly oil the blade and handle to prevent rust and keep the components in good condition. It is also recommended to sharpen the blade periodically using a sharpening stone.Do Cold Steel Smatchets come with a warranty?Yes, Cold Steel offers a limited lifetime warranty on the materials and craftsmanship of their Smatchets. However, this warranty does not cover accidental damage or normal wear and tear.What is the return policy for Cold Steel Smatchets?Cold Steel has a 30-day return policy for their Smatchets. The product must be in its original, unopened packaging, and the customer is responsible for return shipping costs.As an Amazon™ Associate, we earn from qualifying purchases. |
2024.05.21 11:29 catespice Memoirs of a Long Pig
“We’re a meat family,” my dad would proudly tell strangers. He’d wait for the quizzical look, then launch into detail, starting with how many freezers we had, how long we could sustain ourselves on the contents. It was just his way of starting a conversation, which made sense when you considered that raising and home-killing animals for food was, for want of a better term, his life-long hobby. His prize possession was one of those industrial-sized vacuum sealers: you could put half a pig inside and wrap it in plastic so tightly that every wrinkle and skin fold waxed unreal with shiny detail.
If we hadn’t lived in a rural area, albeit semi-urbanised, I guess it would have been pretty weird. But the mostly farming-stock locals only found his extra enthusiasm a little bit odd.
When he wasn’t being a bit embarrassing talking about it, I never really paid much heed to his hobby. I had a child’s vaguely grateful awareness that though our family went through some lean financial times, our stomachs never suffered like some of the families around us. All the beef, pork, ham and bacon in those big old chest freezers passed down from his dad really could have fed us for years.
I should preface all this by saying that I wasn’t a particularly bright kid, though neither was I dumb. I didn’t fail badly at anything in school, I just never achieved beyond a pass. I didn’t know it yet back then, still quietly dreaming about being a ballet star or a dressage champion, but mediocrity was my destiny. And I think that’s why I got on so well with my Aunt Liz.
Liz was my dad’s live-in youngest sister. She was one of those women who get described as ‘bubbly’ — not really pretty, not really smart, not a lot going on besides just being… well, all Liz. But she was salt of the earth; kind, caring, and great with kids. She was the only person who would willingly mind my two older brothers, who fought like hellcats and caused more trouble than the whole last generation of my family combined. People would privately lament to my parents that it was a shame Liz didn’t have kids of her own, but dad would just shake his head and say Liz liked it that way – that all the fun of looking after kids is being able to give them back to their parents.
I guess she was like me; nice, but mediocre. Lovely, but somehow forgettable when she wasn’t doing something for you.
But when Liz left us, I couldn’t forget her.
In hindsight, it was pretty weird timing that we had a big fortieth birthday party for Liz right before she disappeared. She was radiant that night; she’d hired a local girl to do her hair and makeup, and it was honestly the first time I’d ever seen her look pretty. She’d even worn a push-up bra under a tight red dress, which flattered her very plump curves well enough that the neighbour’s farmhand was spotted disappearing into the woolshed with her for a snog. In my dawning awareness, that gave a plain girl hope: if Aunty Liz could get a guy at forty, maybe things would turn out okay for me.
Anyway, I couldn’t forget how her pink cheeks, her eyes, her whole self, glowed that night before Liz went to bed. She said it was the best birthday ever, and that she was very much looking forward to the next stage of her life.
Would I have done anything different, if I had known? If I had realised what, exactly, that next stage was?
The week after the party, Aunt Liz said she was going on a little holiday up north, to visit some old school friends. She packed her things – she didn’t honestly have that many – and drove her little orange mini out onto the main road. And with a wave of one fleshy hand, she was gone. Nobody really thought much of it when she didn’t call, because nobody rural had cellphones back then. And Liz was, as I said, somehow kinda forgettable when she wasn’t right in front of you.
When we hadn’t had contact for six weeks, Dad tracked down the land line numbers for their old school buddies. They were surprised to hear from him — Liz had never arrived, so they had just assumed she’d cancelled her visit. No-one had thought to check. I eavesdropped on the conversation, and it sounded for all the world like *they* had forgotten about Aunt Liz, too.
From there it became a missing person case. The local cops came and talked to all of us; the farmhand who’d been seen snogging her was briefly detained, then let go, dad got grilled at length, even my hellion brothers were questioned thoroughly to see if this was one of their wild and dangerous pranks gone wrong.
But everything was a dead end. Nobody knew where Liz was, or what had happened to her.
The remains of her old mini were found halfway across the country, burned out on a beach, on a derelict stretch of ragged, rocky coastline. The police assumed murder and combed the area for remains. But even the most expert divers couldn’t conquer the incredible undertow and fast-shifting seabed of that coastline to look for evidence, so none was forthcoming.
Eventually the cops collectively shrugged and said that there was really nothing more they could do unless more information suddenly came to light. The locals knew nothing, no witnesses had come forward, and the trail was cold. As far as anyone knew, poor aunt Liz had been murdered on some desolate beach, far away from her home.
It didn’t feel fair to me. She’d once mentioned wanting her remains buried on our farm, in the graveyard plot beside grandma and grandad.
So, in my grief, I went into her room to look for something of hers to bury beside them.
Like I said, Liz didn’t have many things. Her room was pretty spartan, and her wardrobe was mostly sensible farm stuff. There was one exception: she, like me, did like to read, and she had a pretty good collection of well-thumbed books. I think it’s the escapism – even the most mediocre girl can lose herself in the plot of some trashy romance novel, imagine there’s still hope of being swept off her feet by that handsome stableboy, his inexplicable yearning for chubby plain girls.
So I set myself the task of going through the books, to find the right one to bury in the graveyard plot.
Most of them were exactly what you’d expect, but some of them were racier than I was used to. I felt various parts of my body flushing and tingling, as I read breathless prose about calloused hands touching the softest flesh of the protagonist. Okay, if I’m honest with myself, I might have got a little *too* invested in my project at that point. But that was also why I persisted going through her entire collection, until I found the ragged paperback from 1970, entitled Tawny Sands. And inside that trashy cardboard romance cover, I discovered not the tale of Tawny Sands, but some carefully hand-cut, stitched-in pages. A handwritten story in my Aunt’s rounded penmanship: Memoirs of a Long Pig.
I read her story twice in a row, utterly gripped.
Aunt Liz was no Stephen King – heck, she wasn’t even the Goosebumps guy – but her story was gripping and compelling, and I couldn’t put it down. Even if I hadn’t known her, I think that would have been true.
The gist of it was that Liz, when she was sixteen, had discovered that our family had a very long history of eating what she described as ‘Long Pork’. It’s an antipodean term, anglicised from the Pacific Islands: human meat.
Like me, young Liz still had some hopes and dreams. In one of her many failed attempts to find a special talent, she’d taken up cooking as a hobby. Naturally, with our family’s overabundance of meat, she’d scoured the freezers in the shed for ingredients: the racks of ribs and stacks of pork chops, butcher-paper wrappings all neatly labelled with the first letter of the name of the animal they came from.
She found familiar meat from Rodney, one of the pigs that had been recently slaughtered, emblazoned with an ‘R’ in her father’s strong, blocky lettering. There were cutlets labelled ‘M’ for Mary, from one of the lambs she’d hand-reared, and ‘F’ for Ferdinand, the steer they’d killed the month before. But she couldn’t explain the many, many curious parcels of meat on one side of the huge freezer, all labelled ‘J’ – at least, not until she took it all out and assembled it as well as she could on the scoured concrete floor of the killing shed. A big, frozen jigsaw puzzle without the box, her best attempt to discover what kind of beast the pieces had come from.
The animal, she quickly realised, was a Long Pig. Her own Aunt Jenny, who had died the month before – just after her fortieth birthday.
Fortunately, or perhaps not, for Liz, her father entered the shed right at that moment and realised his daughter had discovered the family secret. He sat down calmly on the lid of the freezer, and explained to her that this was a long-running family tradition, dating back to at least before his grandfather had been born.
“There are always people in life, Liz,” he’d said, “who won’t really amount to much. They want to be useful, want to be more. They strive and they strive, trying job after job, hobby after hobby, trying to hit on something they’re really good at. Something that makes them special. Those people can waste their whole lives, chasing dreams that never come true. Eventually they die unfulfilled, knowing that all their time has been wasted. That what they leave behind will fade quickly.”
His voice was oddly gentle as he leaned down and patted one of the neatly wrapped cuts of Aunt Jenny, still sitting frozen on the shed floor.
“Your Aunt Jenny was one of those people. So was my Aunt Irene.” He paused to gaze at his daughter, his next words peppered with emphasis. “But you see, my sweet Liz, they did find a purpose in life. They did find a way to be special, and they left this world utterly certain of their gift.” He stood up, stretched his back. “Let me show you.”
Liz waited while my grandad meticulously stacked the meat back into the freezer, all but one J-marked parcel that looked for all the world like a thick venison steak. He took her back to the farmhouse, and reverently unwrapped the deep red, heavily marbled meat to let it thaw. Then he laid it in the family’s ancient, cast-iron pan, basting it with butter and rosemary until a heavenly scent filled the kitchen, and Aunt Liz couldn’t stop her mouth from watering.
“Just try it. Let her show you. You’ll see exactly what I’m talking about.”
Even though she knew it was her aunt, Liz couldn’t stop herself from taking that first bite. There was something transcendent about the smell, overriding her natural revulsion that this was human meat, not one of their farm animals. For the first time, she truly realised it: we’re just another kind of animal. And weren’t her memories of Mary the lamb almost as fond as her memories of Aunt Jenny?
Liz explained then, in her curly handwriting, the explosion of taste that had assaulted her when she tried the steak. It was tender, it was succulent, it was rich beyond imagining. The fats melted on her tongue, lingering somewhere between pork and beef, but oddly neither. The flavour of the meat defied identification; something familiar, yet not.
But one thing she couldn’t deny; it was the most delicious thing she had ever eaten. Tears dripped onto her plate, mingled with the juice, the grease — not grief, but a pure, real, giddy delight.
“You’re tasting your aunt’s love for this family,” my grandad explained. “Her entire life was carefully curated, to eventually make unforgettable moments for us, just like this. This was her way of being special. This was the greatest gift she could possibly bring to our world – and because she realised that, she died with not a single regret. She knew her life had purpose. She was perfectly, completely fulfilled.”
I felt those words. I felt them lodge in my own belly, settling uncomfortably deep. I knew Aunt Liz, probably better than anyone else in the family. I’d seen how fucking happy she’d been on her fortieth, how goddamn fulfilled she was, despite apparently being a *nobody* and achieving *nothing*. Somehow, in the space of a single day, she had gone from being a forgettable background character to becoming the *main character*, immortalising herself in our family’s history with her sacrifice. Quite literally becoming part of all of us, forever.
I went to the killing shed after I finished with the book. I looked inside the freezers.
But there were no vacuum-sealed packages labelled ‘L’, no matter how deep I dug into the frozen stacks of plastic-wrapped flesh. Panicked now, not sure if I wanted to connect all the dots or unconnect them, I tried to think back over the last few months, recall any meals that had been unusually good. A few Sundays ago, we’d had a stew that really hit the spot and left me craving more. And I realised that the family had a really good night that night; my brothers behaved themselves, my parents didn’t fight, and grandma and grandad had been there. Hadn’t they looked far more… expectant than they should have?
I strained my brain, trying to recall if I’d seen the homekill bag on the kitchen bench – if I’d registered what letter it was. I knew it wasn’t an L. I would have remembered if it was an L.
And then it hit me, the memory, the connection, sizzling as if branded with a hot iron.
It had been an ‘E’.
E for Elizabeth. Not for Edward the pig.
I snorted at my own stupidity – of *course* Liz was short for Elizabeth – and as I comprehended my lack of smarts, I felt something give inside me.
I wasn’t clever, and nothing, nothing would ever make me smart. I had no big talents. I wasn’t beautiful, or even cute – and even if I had a million plastic surgeries, it still wouldn’t fulfill me. It wouldn’t be real.
I was a Liz.
I was a Jenny.
I was whoever the first aunt had been, the aunt who had dedicated her life to making her flesh as delicious as possible, who had worked every damn minute to be the best Long Pig she could ever be.
I wondered how many magical family evenings had been spent eating Aunt Jenny. How many glorious, satisfying, memorable dishes had been made out of her.
And… I wanted that. I wanted to finally know I had a *purpose* in life. One so simple, and so easy to achieve.
I wanted what Aunt Liz had.
***
It's my fortieth birthday today and I’m so fucking excited. For the last twenty-four years, I’ve dedicated myself to this moment; I’ve eaten exactly what I needed to, I’ve exercised just enough, but not too much, to maintain that perfect balance of marbling vs tenderness. I’ve relaxed and meditated to keep all those amazing flavours inside of me. I’ve researched all the greatest meats in the world, from prime Angus beef to A5 Wagyu. I really think I may have outdone myself.
I’m having my hair and makeup done at the local salon this afternoon, and I’m going to look so pretty; all prize piggy on show at the fair. I’m even going to have a big red ribbon in my hair, in memory of Aunt Liz.
Maybe there’ll be a cute boy I can snog in the wool shed, maybe there won’t – I don’t really care; because the most important, most certain thing is that I’m going to be the most delicious Long Pig in the history of our entire family.
I’m going to make everyone so damn happy, and I’m just so glad I can share my story with you all, instead of hiding it in a grubby book like poor Aunt Liz.
My only real disappointment? That you won’t get to taste me.
Reader, I have loved, loved my life. My Long Pork will be out of this world: once tasted, never, ever forgotten.
submitted by catespice to ByfelsDisciple [link] [comments]
If we hadn’t lived in a rural area, albeit semi-urbanised, I guess it would have been pretty weird. But the mostly farming-stock locals only found his extra enthusiasm a little bit odd.
When he wasn’t being a bit embarrassing talking about it, I never really paid much heed to his hobby. I had a child’s vaguely grateful awareness that though our family went through some lean financial times, our stomachs never suffered like some of the families around us. All the beef, pork, ham and bacon in those big old chest freezers passed down from his dad really could have fed us for years.
I should preface all this by saying that I wasn’t a particularly bright kid, though neither was I dumb. I didn’t fail badly at anything in school, I just never achieved beyond a pass. I didn’t know it yet back then, still quietly dreaming about being a ballet star or a dressage champion, but mediocrity was my destiny. And I think that’s why I got on so well with my Aunt Liz.
Liz was my dad’s live-in youngest sister. She was one of those women who get described as ‘bubbly’ — not really pretty, not really smart, not a lot going on besides just being… well, all Liz. But she was salt of the earth; kind, caring, and great with kids. She was the only person who would willingly mind my two older brothers, who fought like hellcats and caused more trouble than the whole last generation of my family combined. People would privately lament to my parents that it was a shame Liz didn’t have kids of her own, but dad would just shake his head and say Liz liked it that way – that all the fun of looking after kids is being able to give them back to their parents.
I guess she was like me; nice, but mediocre. Lovely, but somehow forgettable when she wasn’t doing something for you.
But when Liz left us, I couldn’t forget her.
In hindsight, it was pretty weird timing that we had a big fortieth birthday party for Liz right before she disappeared. She was radiant that night; she’d hired a local girl to do her hair and makeup, and it was honestly the first time I’d ever seen her look pretty. She’d even worn a push-up bra under a tight red dress, which flattered her very plump curves well enough that the neighbour’s farmhand was spotted disappearing into the woolshed with her for a snog. In my dawning awareness, that gave a plain girl hope: if Aunty Liz could get a guy at forty, maybe things would turn out okay for me.
Anyway, I couldn’t forget how her pink cheeks, her eyes, her whole self, glowed that night before Liz went to bed. She said it was the best birthday ever, and that she was very much looking forward to the next stage of her life.
Would I have done anything different, if I had known? If I had realised what, exactly, that next stage was?
The week after the party, Aunt Liz said she was going on a little holiday up north, to visit some old school friends. She packed her things – she didn’t honestly have that many – and drove her little orange mini out onto the main road. And with a wave of one fleshy hand, she was gone. Nobody really thought much of it when she didn’t call, because nobody rural had cellphones back then. And Liz was, as I said, somehow kinda forgettable when she wasn’t right in front of you.
When we hadn’t had contact for six weeks, Dad tracked down the land line numbers for their old school buddies. They were surprised to hear from him — Liz had never arrived, so they had just assumed she’d cancelled her visit. No-one had thought to check. I eavesdropped on the conversation, and it sounded for all the world like *they* had forgotten about Aunt Liz, too.
From there it became a missing person case. The local cops came and talked to all of us; the farmhand who’d been seen snogging her was briefly detained, then let go, dad got grilled at length, even my hellion brothers were questioned thoroughly to see if this was one of their wild and dangerous pranks gone wrong.
But everything was a dead end. Nobody knew where Liz was, or what had happened to her.
The remains of her old mini were found halfway across the country, burned out on a beach, on a derelict stretch of ragged, rocky coastline. The police assumed murder and combed the area for remains. But even the most expert divers couldn’t conquer the incredible undertow and fast-shifting seabed of that coastline to look for evidence, so none was forthcoming.
Eventually the cops collectively shrugged and said that there was really nothing more they could do unless more information suddenly came to light. The locals knew nothing, no witnesses had come forward, and the trail was cold. As far as anyone knew, poor aunt Liz had been murdered on some desolate beach, far away from her home.
It didn’t feel fair to me. She’d once mentioned wanting her remains buried on our farm, in the graveyard plot beside grandma and grandad.
So, in my grief, I went into her room to look for something of hers to bury beside them.
Like I said, Liz didn’t have many things. Her room was pretty spartan, and her wardrobe was mostly sensible farm stuff. There was one exception: she, like me, did like to read, and she had a pretty good collection of well-thumbed books. I think it’s the escapism – even the most mediocre girl can lose herself in the plot of some trashy romance novel, imagine there’s still hope of being swept off her feet by that handsome stableboy, his inexplicable yearning for chubby plain girls.
So I set myself the task of going through the books, to find the right one to bury in the graveyard plot.
Most of them were exactly what you’d expect, but some of them were racier than I was used to. I felt various parts of my body flushing and tingling, as I read breathless prose about calloused hands touching the softest flesh of the protagonist. Okay, if I’m honest with myself, I might have got a little *too* invested in my project at that point. But that was also why I persisted going through her entire collection, until I found the ragged paperback from 1970, entitled Tawny Sands. And inside that trashy cardboard romance cover, I discovered not the tale of Tawny Sands, but some carefully hand-cut, stitched-in pages. A handwritten story in my Aunt’s rounded penmanship: Memoirs of a Long Pig.
I read her story twice in a row, utterly gripped.
Aunt Liz was no Stephen King – heck, she wasn’t even the Goosebumps guy – but her story was gripping and compelling, and I couldn’t put it down. Even if I hadn’t known her, I think that would have been true.
The gist of it was that Liz, when she was sixteen, had discovered that our family had a very long history of eating what she described as ‘Long Pork’. It’s an antipodean term, anglicised from the Pacific Islands: human meat.
Like me, young Liz still had some hopes and dreams. In one of her many failed attempts to find a special talent, she’d taken up cooking as a hobby. Naturally, with our family’s overabundance of meat, she’d scoured the freezers in the shed for ingredients: the racks of ribs and stacks of pork chops, butcher-paper wrappings all neatly labelled with the first letter of the name of the animal they came from.
She found familiar meat from Rodney, one of the pigs that had been recently slaughtered, emblazoned with an ‘R’ in her father’s strong, blocky lettering. There were cutlets labelled ‘M’ for Mary, from one of the lambs she’d hand-reared, and ‘F’ for Ferdinand, the steer they’d killed the month before. But she couldn’t explain the many, many curious parcels of meat on one side of the huge freezer, all labelled ‘J’ – at least, not until she took it all out and assembled it as well as she could on the scoured concrete floor of the killing shed. A big, frozen jigsaw puzzle without the box, her best attempt to discover what kind of beast the pieces had come from.
The animal, she quickly realised, was a Long Pig. Her own Aunt Jenny, who had died the month before – just after her fortieth birthday.
Fortunately, or perhaps not, for Liz, her father entered the shed right at that moment and realised his daughter had discovered the family secret. He sat down calmly on the lid of the freezer, and explained to her that this was a long-running family tradition, dating back to at least before his grandfather had been born.
“There are always people in life, Liz,” he’d said, “who won’t really amount to much. They want to be useful, want to be more. They strive and they strive, trying job after job, hobby after hobby, trying to hit on something they’re really good at. Something that makes them special. Those people can waste their whole lives, chasing dreams that never come true. Eventually they die unfulfilled, knowing that all their time has been wasted. That what they leave behind will fade quickly.”
His voice was oddly gentle as he leaned down and patted one of the neatly wrapped cuts of Aunt Jenny, still sitting frozen on the shed floor.
“Your Aunt Jenny was one of those people. So was my Aunt Irene.” He paused to gaze at his daughter, his next words peppered with emphasis. “But you see, my sweet Liz, they did find a purpose in life. They did find a way to be special, and they left this world utterly certain of their gift.” He stood up, stretched his back. “Let me show you.”
Liz waited while my grandad meticulously stacked the meat back into the freezer, all but one J-marked parcel that looked for all the world like a thick venison steak. He took her back to the farmhouse, and reverently unwrapped the deep red, heavily marbled meat to let it thaw. Then he laid it in the family’s ancient, cast-iron pan, basting it with butter and rosemary until a heavenly scent filled the kitchen, and Aunt Liz couldn’t stop her mouth from watering.
“Just try it. Let her show you. You’ll see exactly what I’m talking about.”
Even though she knew it was her aunt, Liz couldn’t stop herself from taking that first bite. There was something transcendent about the smell, overriding her natural revulsion that this was human meat, not one of their farm animals. For the first time, she truly realised it: we’re just another kind of animal. And weren’t her memories of Mary the lamb almost as fond as her memories of Aunt Jenny?
Liz explained then, in her curly handwriting, the explosion of taste that had assaulted her when she tried the steak. It was tender, it was succulent, it was rich beyond imagining. The fats melted on her tongue, lingering somewhere between pork and beef, but oddly neither. The flavour of the meat defied identification; something familiar, yet not.
But one thing she couldn’t deny; it was the most delicious thing she had ever eaten. Tears dripped onto her plate, mingled with the juice, the grease — not grief, but a pure, real, giddy delight.
“You’re tasting your aunt’s love for this family,” my grandad explained. “Her entire life was carefully curated, to eventually make unforgettable moments for us, just like this. This was her way of being special. This was the greatest gift she could possibly bring to our world – and because she realised that, she died with not a single regret. She knew her life had purpose. She was perfectly, completely fulfilled.”
I felt those words. I felt them lodge in my own belly, settling uncomfortably deep. I knew Aunt Liz, probably better than anyone else in the family. I’d seen how fucking happy she’d been on her fortieth, how goddamn fulfilled she was, despite apparently being a *nobody* and achieving *nothing*. Somehow, in the space of a single day, she had gone from being a forgettable background character to becoming the *main character*, immortalising herself in our family’s history with her sacrifice. Quite literally becoming part of all of us, forever.
I went to the killing shed after I finished with the book. I looked inside the freezers.
But there were no vacuum-sealed packages labelled ‘L’, no matter how deep I dug into the frozen stacks of plastic-wrapped flesh. Panicked now, not sure if I wanted to connect all the dots or unconnect them, I tried to think back over the last few months, recall any meals that had been unusually good. A few Sundays ago, we’d had a stew that really hit the spot and left me craving more. And I realised that the family had a really good night that night; my brothers behaved themselves, my parents didn’t fight, and grandma and grandad had been there. Hadn’t they looked far more… expectant than they should have?
I strained my brain, trying to recall if I’d seen the homekill bag on the kitchen bench – if I’d registered what letter it was. I knew it wasn’t an L. I would have remembered if it was an L.
And then it hit me, the memory, the connection, sizzling as if branded with a hot iron.
It had been an ‘E’.
E for Elizabeth. Not for Edward the pig.
I snorted at my own stupidity – of *course* Liz was short for Elizabeth – and as I comprehended my lack of smarts, I felt something give inside me.
I wasn’t clever, and nothing, nothing would ever make me smart. I had no big talents. I wasn’t beautiful, or even cute – and even if I had a million plastic surgeries, it still wouldn’t fulfill me. It wouldn’t be real.
I was a Liz.
I was a Jenny.
I was whoever the first aunt had been, the aunt who had dedicated her life to making her flesh as delicious as possible, who had worked every damn minute to be the best Long Pig she could ever be.
I wondered how many magical family evenings had been spent eating Aunt Jenny. How many glorious, satisfying, memorable dishes had been made out of her.
And… I wanted that. I wanted to finally know I had a *purpose* in life. One so simple, and so easy to achieve.
I wanted what Aunt Liz had.
***
It's my fortieth birthday today and I’m so fucking excited. For the last twenty-four years, I’ve dedicated myself to this moment; I’ve eaten exactly what I needed to, I’ve exercised just enough, but not too much, to maintain that perfect balance of marbling vs tenderness. I’ve relaxed and meditated to keep all those amazing flavours inside of me. I’ve researched all the greatest meats in the world, from prime Angus beef to A5 Wagyu. I really think I may have outdone myself.
I’m having my hair and makeup done at the local salon this afternoon, and I’m going to look so pretty; all prize piggy on show at the fair. I’m even going to have a big red ribbon in my hair, in memory of Aunt Liz.
Maybe there’ll be a cute boy I can snog in the wool shed, maybe there won’t – I don’t really care; because the most important, most certain thing is that I’m going to be the most delicious Long Pig in the history of our entire family.
I’m going to make everyone so damn happy, and I’m just so glad I can share my story with you all, instead of hiding it in a grubby book like poor Aunt Liz.
My only real disappointment? That you won’t get to taste me.
Reader, I have loved, loved my life. My Long Pork will be out of this world: once tasted, never, ever forgotten.
2024.05.21 11:10 Stylish_aesthetic My love letter to younger me / breakup letter to the Bahais :)
I'd like to share a lengthy and self-indulgent note about my history with the Baha'i community and the impact it had on my family and me. It's worth noting that I'm sharing this using a throwaway Reddit account that I generally reserve for browsing porn. I find funny to imagine a Baha'i apologist reading this, becoming angry and judgmental, and then, investigating my profile and ending up jerking off. With that said, let's dive into my story.
I want to share my experience in case it resonates with someone else, a lot of the stories on this Reddit helped me, and perhaps my story will give some comfort to someone else. It has taken me a while to write this down, and I'm glad I finally got around to doing it.
My parents emigrated from their homeland for reasons of principle and value. Upon their arrival, they were greeted by Baha'is who met them. And so, lovebombed and lavished with love, praise, and celebration for moving countries due to values that they portrayed as being closely aligned with the Baha'i faith, my parents fell for this validation and worked very hard once they became Baha'is in the mid-1980s.
My dad got rid of all of his whiskies, and swiftly, my parents began hosting potlucks and fireside chats, diligently working to integrate into the Baha'i ecosystem. Back then, the atmosphere was fairly light-hearted, with devotional gatherings, prayers, and a somewhat 1960s-esque hippie vibe. There was live guitar music, and joss sticks.
However, I remember Baha'i classes having an interesting edge. We were taught that Buddhists were not following a religion but merely a way of life, and that Hindus had become pantheistic because they had lost the core of their faith and religion, which had become corrupted over time. Thanks to Google, I can discover that yes indeed, this is from Lights of Guidance.
There was a significant emphasis on the importance of gender equality and the oneness of humanity – because, hey, the eighties. I feel sad there isn't anything anymore about the Virtues project - even if the Virtues project was sort of framed like it was created by Bahais.
Even in the 1980s, there was an overwhelming atmosphere that the key to being a good Baha'i was how you presented yourself rather than your actual behaviour. I recall learning an apocryphal tale of a young Baha'i who, while fasting, participated in an aerobics class and nearly fainted (yeah, aerobics, this is a real 80s fable), but was told by another Baha'i to prioritize representing the faith well over completing the fast because *it looked bad*. From a very early age, I learned the importance of putting the right face forward.
My parents then took their relationship with the Baha'i faith to the next level and volunteered at the World Centre in Haifa. As a child, this was a pretty interesting experience. I was suddenly immersed in the Iranian, or rather, Persian community, with its strong culture of martyrdom. Even as a child, every event seemed to feature graphic videos depicting young kids being taken from their homes. It was quite frightening, and I remember being afraid.
I also recall a strong sense of hierarchy within the community. My family lived in a small apartment with a very old, busted-up car from the 1970s, while others resided in nice homes with pleasant views and drove nice cars. I attended a local Israeli school, which was a cultural experience in itself, while my peers my age went to the much fancier American school. It's important to note that, at this point, the conversation about the "great catastrophe" – two-thirds of the world's population dying, leading to a period of peace and the entry by troops – was a prevalent topic openly discussed at the World Centre.
We completed our stint there, even living through the Gulf War. Upon returning to my birth country, my parents chose to live in places with smaller Baha'i communities, as they wanted to support and help establish Local Spiritual Assemblies. Things had changed by this point, not only because I was a teenager but also because the community itself had transformed. There was a significant Iranian presence everywhere, and the focus had shifted heavily towards rules, especially those related to sex, drinking, and drug use. There was also a huge emphasis on financial contributions to the faith, and it was the first time I began to see a somewhat materialistic outlook within the community.
As a preteen and teenager, I engaged in activities like dropping off flyers in mailboxes and soliciting strangers to talk about this great new religion, all in the name of “teaching”. I joined the local choir and sang, inspired by a crush I had on a girl there. This was probably the golden time of the community, with the choir doing outreach and a balance between Western and Iranian believers.
However, things began to accelerate. The Ruhi Institute and teaching became significant focal points. I was encouraged to bring a good friend of mine to a Baha'i camp, and once there, I was pressured to ask him to convert. It was very uncomfortable.
This Reddit loves cringe stories, so here is a winner: I had a birthday party with my non-Baha'i friends, and two older Baha'i girls attended. One of the girls ended up stalking my friend, showing up at his workplace and calling him at home with sexually suggestive comments. The matter was escalated to the Local Spiritual Assembly, but instead of talking to me about it, they basically ended my friendship with this kid. To me, this somehow captures so much of what it was like to be a Baha'i child and how Baha'i adults treat children to this day.
When I turned 15, I signed up for Baha'i membership because it was the expected thing to do. However, by the time I was in my early 20s and studying at university, I had started to interact more with the local, real-world community. This might seem like a small thing, but it was actually quite significant. You see, my parents had always felt a little bit on the outside compared to the average person on the street around them. This sense of elitism was really exacerbated by being a Baha'i because Baha'is would walk around in a cloud of self-assurance, slapping each other on the back and saying , "We don't do drugs. We've got all the answers and solutions, not like you." That was pretty much the attitude. It felt very socio-economic, with a lot of judgment towards working-class people. When the Iranians arrived, the cultural judgments grew even stronger.
But I was working in restaurants and learning about booze from bartenders. I had gotten to know real people. I had lost my virginity, and all that Bahai jazz seemed so much less relevant. I hardly even noticed when the year 2000 arrived without the predicted apocalypse, entry by troops, or any of the other anticipated events. Life went on. I lived in another country and met a girl, and we lived together.
Here is cringe story #2: my girlfriend /fiancé and I hosted a Bahai couple from my hometown. Despite being in my late 20s and engaged, and even though I hosted this gentleman in my house and helped him with his preparations for his business and presentations in the country where I lived, he reported to the Local Spiritual Assembly that I was living with a woman and we weren't married. It was absolutely amazing. The level of judgment still grosses me out.
I started to reflect on what the religion had meant to me and saw how it had changed. The obsession with fundraising was becoming ever more strident and panicked. The gaps in the actual scriptural logic of the religion were becoming more exacerbated as real-world problems still ran rife, and real-time discussions on social media brought these issues to light. It took me a while to start really digging into it, and it was only much later, when I started therapy, that I realized I needed to formally resign from the religion.
Looking back, it's astonishing how this religion, which professes to have such blind equality between the genders, as if other religions have some kind of hardwired sexism, actually had hardwired sexism in how the Universal House of Justice operates. A religion that taught the oneness of humanity, as if all humanity is equal and other religions don't recruit from anyone they can find, places divisors. Although of course, Bahai’s can’t recruit from Israeli Jews, so much for oneness of humanity. But this religion has taught that all humanity is equal, unless, of course, you're gay. Then you can't get married, let alone have sex.
There are other principles I haven't touched on, such as non-involvement in politics, unless it involves things happening to Baha'is or politics in Iran. The principle of independent investigation of the truth doesn't seem to work if you might investigate something that's not in line with the Baha'i perspective. The idea of a universal language? I don't really see any evidence that they're even really thinking about that one. The unity between science and religion? A religion that only allows men to sit on its senior board of a global theocracy probably isn't going to jive with a contemporary scientific perspective…. I mean, apparently you don't need a penis to be a man anymore, right?
In between these moments are my colorful memories of random things, like endless discussions about the boundaries of physical intimacy, people getting married at the age of 16 because they had exemptions for being Persian, and meeting Ms. Khanoom in Israel, feeling some sadness that the lone woman who at least brought some feminine energy to the World Centre is now gone, replaced by 12 boring men.
I've had conversations with my wife where I tried to explain what Baha'is actually do. She just wonders why they aren't doing stuff like normal religions do, like reading to the elderly or supporting schools for the disabled. I explain that's not the target demographic. I remember a wealthy man brought to firesides who obviously nobody else wanted to listen to, but we all sat around and applauded him like he was a great ukulele player and a clever man. He pointed out a hilariously Iranian man who was an alternative healer, and they got into a debate about modern medicine. The wealthy man said, "Well, you should see my daughter and what she studied. She studies Law." And then quickly changed the subject when asked about her name since I studied at the same Law school. Here's this man who's self-aware enough to join the adoration of his crowd but doesn't want his daughter mixed up in it in any way. Absolutely hilarious. Make that cringe story #3.
This reflection was sort of sparked when my wife and I discovered that the writings attributed to Rumi, which Baha'is often quote, is the same guy who started the Whirling Dervishes. We read about Rumi and I realized just how different he is from Baha'u'llah. Rumi wrote poetry, but he didn't pretend to be a prophet of God. He was just offering a different dynamic for how to interpret spirituality. He didn't say he was part of some sort of cycle. There's something beautiful about that simplicity. And needless to say, Rumi lived long before the Baha'is ever started.
It makes me wonder, will anyone ever watch the equivalent of a whirling dervish dance for the Baha'is?
The obsession with appearances sounds like a joke, but it isn't. It wasn't for me. Some bad stuff happened to me on my trip to Israel. When we got there, my parents didn't understand why I was so upset about everything. It was a culture shock, attending a local school, not speaking Hebrew, being lumped together with Russian kids who also didn't speak Hebrew, and getting beaten up in the toilet. It wasn't a very good time for me.
So, I was sent to counsel with a local Israeli counselor. After several sessions, she instructed that I had to sit down with my parents and tell them what I needed to tell them, particularly about the shadow that had come over me since coming to Israel. My parents were enraged when I said, “I wish we never became Bahai”.
And so, we returned from the Holy Land and moved to a tiny community that was struggling to get members. To this day, my parents are still members. I've resigned so I'm never dubbed a "covenant breaker." I'm pretty sure my parents know that I resigned because they literally never raise the topic of the Baha'i faith with me. I wish the religion had some interesting cosmology, something mystical, some interesting new take on the universe, or provided my family with tools to handle being migrants or raising teenagers. At the very least, it could have given us a common language we could have used to bond together. It did none of that.
But to be fair, if it wasn't the Baha'is, some other rinky-dink cult would have love-bombed my parents back in the 1980s. Of course, it would have been so much more fun if it had featured more sex and drugs 😊
submitted by Stylish_aesthetic to exbahai [link] [comments]
I want to share my experience in case it resonates with someone else, a lot of the stories on this Reddit helped me, and perhaps my story will give some comfort to someone else. It has taken me a while to write this down, and I'm glad I finally got around to doing it.
My parents emigrated from their homeland for reasons of principle and value. Upon their arrival, they were greeted by Baha'is who met them. And so, lovebombed and lavished with love, praise, and celebration for moving countries due to values that they portrayed as being closely aligned with the Baha'i faith, my parents fell for this validation and worked very hard once they became Baha'is in the mid-1980s.
My dad got rid of all of his whiskies, and swiftly, my parents began hosting potlucks and fireside chats, diligently working to integrate into the Baha'i ecosystem. Back then, the atmosphere was fairly light-hearted, with devotional gatherings, prayers, and a somewhat 1960s-esque hippie vibe. There was live guitar music, and joss sticks.
However, I remember Baha'i classes having an interesting edge. We were taught that Buddhists were not following a religion but merely a way of life, and that Hindus had become pantheistic because they had lost the core of their faith and religion, which had become corrupted over time. Thanks to Google, I can discover that yes indeed, this is from Lights of Guidance.
There was a significant emphasis on the importance of gender equality and the oneness of humanity – because, hey, the eighties. I feel sad there isn't anything anymore about the Virtues project - even if the Virtues project was sort of framed like it was created by Bahais.
Even in the 1980s, there was an overwhelming atmosphere that the key to being a good Baha'i was how you presented yourself rather than your actual behaviour. I recall learning an apocryphal tale of a young Baha'i who, while fasting, participated in an aerobics class and nearly fainted (yeah, aerobics, this is a real 80s fable), but was told by another Baha'i to prioritize representing the faith well over completing the fast because *it looked bad*. From a very early age, I learned the importance of putting the right face forward.
My parents then took their relationship with the Baha'i faith to the next level and volunteered at the World Centre in Haifa. As a child, this was a pretty interesting experience. I was suddenly immersed in the Iranian, or rather, Persian community, with its strong culture of martyrdom. Even as a child, every event seemed to feature graphic videos depicting young kids being taken from their homes. It was quite frightening, and I remember being afraid.
I also recall a strong sense of hierarchy within the community. My family lived in a small apartment with a very old, busted-up car from the 1970s, while others resided in nice homes with pleasant views and drove nice cars. I attended a local Israeli school, which was a cultural experience in itself, while my peers my age went to the much fancier American school. It's important to note that, at this point, the conversation about the "great catastrophe" – two-thirds of the world's population dying, leading to a period of peace and the entry by troops – was a prevalent topic openly discussed at the World Centre.
We completed our stint there, even living through the Gulf War. Upon returning to my birth country, my parents chose to live in places with smaller Baha'i communities, as they wanted to support and help establish Local Spiritual Assemblies. Things had changed by this point, not only because I was a teenager but also because the community itself had transformed. There was a significant Iranian presence everywhere, and the focus had shifted heavily towards rules, especially those related to sex, drinking, and drug use. There was also a huge emphasis on financial contributions to the faith, and it was the first time I began to see a somewhat materialistic outlook within the community.
As a preteen and teenager, I engaged in activities like dropping off flyers in mailboxes and soliciting strangers to talk about this great new religion, all in the name of “teaching”. I joined the local choir and sang, inspired by a crush I had on a girl there. This was probably the golden time of the community, with the choir doing outreach and a balance between Western and Iranian believers.
However, things began to accelerate. The Ruhi Institute and teaching became significant focal points. I was encouraged to bring a good friend of mine to a Baha'i camp, and once there, I was pressured to ask him to convert. It was very uncomfortable.
This Reddit loves cringe stories, so here is a winner: I had a birthday party with my non-Baha'i friends, and two older Baha'i girls attended. One of the girls ended up stalking my friend, showing up at his workplace and calling him at home with sexually suggestive comments. The matter was escalated to the Local Spiritual Assembly, but instead of talking to me about it, they basically ended my friendship with this kid. To me, this somehow captures so much of what it was like to be a Baha'i child and how Baha'i adults treat children to this day.
When I turned 15, I signed up for Baha'i membership because it was the expected thing to do. However, by the time I was in my early 20s and studying at university, I had started to interact more with the local, real-world community. This might seem like a small thing, but it was actually quite significant. You see, my parents had always felt a little bit on the outside compared to the average person on the street around them. This sense of elitism was really exacerbated by being a Baha'i because Baha'is would walk around in a cloud of self-assurance, slapping each other on the back and saying , "We don't do drugs. We've got all the answers and solutions, not like you." That was pretty much the attitude. It felt very socio-economic, with a lot of judgment towards working-class people. When the Iranians arrived, the cultural judgments grew even stronger.
But I was working in restaurants and learning about booze from bartenders. I had gotten to know real people. I had lost my virginity, and all that Bahai jazz seemed so much less relevant. I hardly even noticed when the year 2000 arrived without the predicted apocalypse, entry by troops, or any of the other anticipated events. Life went on. I lived in another country and met a girl, and we lived together.
Here is cringe story #2: my girlfriend /fiancé and I hosted a Bahai couple from my hometown. Despite being in my late 20s and engaged, and even though I hosted this gentleman in my house and helped him with his preparations for his business and presentations in the country where I lived, he reported to the Local Spiritual Assembly that I was living with a woman and we weren't married. It was absolutely amazing. The level of judgment still grosses me out.
I started to reflect on what the religion had meant to me and saw how it had changed. The obsession with fundraising was becoming ever more strident and panicked. The gaps in the actual scriptural logic of the religion were becoming more exacerbated as real-world problems still ran rife, and real-time discussions on social media brought these issues to light. It took me a while to start really digging into it, and it was only much later, when I started therapy, that I realized I needed to formally resign from the religion.
Looking back, it's astonishing how this religion, which professes to have such blind equality between the genders, as if other religions have some kind of hardwired sexism, actually had hardwired sexism in how the Universal House of Justice operates. A religion that taught the oneness of humanity, as if all humanity is equal and other religions don't recruit from anyone they can find, places divisors. Although of course, Bahai’s can’t recruit from Israeli Jews, so much for oneness of humanity. But this religion has taught that all humanity is equal, unless, of course, you're gay. Then you can't get married, let alone have sex.
There are other principles I haven't touched on, such as non-involvement in politics, unless it involves things happening to Baha'is or politics in Iran. The principle of independent investigation of the truth doesn't seem to work if you might investigate something that's not in line with the Baha'i perspective. The idea of a universal language? I don't really see any evidence that they're even really thinking about that one. The unity between science and religion? A religion that only allows men to sit on its senior board of a global theocracy probably isn't going to jive with a contemporary scientific perspective…. I mean, apparently you don't need a penis to be a man anymore, right?
In between these moments are my colorful memories of random things, like endless discussions about the boundaries of physical intimacy, people getting married at the age of 16 because they had exemptions for being Persian, and meeting Ms. Khanoom in Israel, feeling some sadness that the lone woman who at least brought some feminine energy to the World Centre is now gone, replaced by 12 boring men.
I've had conversations with my wife where I tried to explain what Baha'is actually do. She just wonders why they aren't doing stuff like normal religions do, like reading to the elderly or supporting schools for the disabled. I explain that's not the target demographic. I remember a wealthy man brought to firesides who obviously nobody else wanted to listen to, but we all sat around and applauded him like he was a great ukulele player and a clever man. He pointed out a hilariously Iranian man who was an alternative healer, and they got into a debate about modern medicine. The wealthy man said, "Well, you should see my daughter and what she studied. She studies Law." And then quickly changed the subject when asked about her name since I studied at the same Law school. Here's this man who's self-aware enough to join the adoration of his crowd but doesn't want his daughter mixed up in it in any way. Absolutely hilarious. Make that cringe story #3.
This reflection was sort of sparked when my wife and I discovered that the writings attributed to Rumi, which Baha'is often quote, is the same guy who started the Whirling Dervishes. We read about Rumi and I realized just how different he is from Baha'u'llah. Rumi wrote poetry, but he didn't pretend to be a prophet of God. He was just offering a different dynamic for how to interpret spirituality. He didn't say he was part of some sort of cycle. There's something beautiful about that simplicity. And needless to say, Rumi lived long before the Baha'is ever started.
It makes me wonder, will anyone ever watch the equivalent of a whirling dervish dance for the Baha'is?
The obsession with appearances sounds like a joke, but it isn't. It wasn't for me. Some bad stuff happened to me on my trip to Israel. When we got there, my parents didn't understand why I was so upset about everything. It was a culture shock, attending a local school, not speaking Hebrew, being lumped together with Russian kids who also didn't speak Hebrew, and getting beaten up in the toilet. It wasn't a very good time for me.
So, I was sent to counsel with a local Israeli counselor. After several sessions, she instructed that I had to sit down with my parents and tell them what I needed to tell them, particularly about the shadow that had come over me since coming to Israel. My parents were enraged when I said, “I wish we never became Bahai”.
And so, we returned from the Holy Land and moved to a tiny community that was struggling to get members. To this day, my parents are still members. I've resigned so I'm never dubbed a "covenant breaker." I'm pretty sure my parents know that I resigned because they literally never raise the topic of the Baha'i faith with me. I wish the religion had some interesting cosmology, something mystical, some interesting new take on the universe, or provided my family with tools to handle being migrants or raising teenagers. At the very least, it could have given us a common language we could have used to bond together. It did none of that.
But to be fair, if it wasn't the Baha'is, some other rinky-dink cult would have love-bombed my parents back in the 1980s. Of course, it would have been so much more fun if it had featured more sex and drugs 😊
2024.05.21 09:28 Ancient_View_5459 What if we called Hero X Mari Cooking Mama
So playing Omori with a pal right now and we love Hero X Mari
Problem, we think Heromari is a boring name. The Omori fandoms got so many clever ship names, so we got to do justice to the best ship. So we came up with our own ship name
Hero cooks, Mari is essentially the mom of friend group, thus we present COOKING MAMA
submitted by Ancient_View_5459 to HeroMari [link] [comments]
Problem, we think Heromari is a boring name. The Omori fandoms got so many clever ship names, so we got to do justice to the best ship. So we came up with our own ship name
Hero cooks, Mari is essentially the mom of friend group, thus we present COOKING MAMA
2024.05.21 07:57 skyeky_ [M4A] Cruel Soldier Prince Takes You Hostage [Enemies to lovers] [Evil prince] [Fantasy] [PT3]
PT 1 PT 2
Hi everyone! Welcome. please enjoy the script!! Any questions regarding the script please message me directly, but it's okay to monetize and make gender changes, but please no major script changes! Thank you very much for reading!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
[Sounds of panic, running can be heard, soldiers moving around in a battle]
Prince: Don't look back okay? Keep running! We need to make it to the river, there's supposed to be one just through these trees!
Listener: ....
Prince: I don't know what it is, I never saw it, and I said don't look back!
Listener: ....
Prince: There's nothing we can do for them! This is their job, focus on what's in front of you or you'll die too!
[The listener trips and falls. The Prince notices after a second, and hesitates]
Prince: Shit...-
[Prince goes back and pulls the listener up]
Prince: On your feet damn it! The river is just up ahead! Can you swim?
Listener: ....
Prince: Well then I hope you're a fast learner.
[Heavy beast footsteps approaching, something is charging them]
Prince: Shit shit shit- why the hell is it following us?! Damn... it's fast! There's the river, jump, now!
[Listener jumps in]
Prince: Like fuck am I dying to you, ugly.
[Prince jumps in, and the audio fades out]
[Sounds of being underwater, muffled speech as the audio fades back in]
Prince: Hey, Silverspoon! Where the hell are you! [Prince tries not to inhale any water as they're both carried down the river, gasping for air] God damn it, I can't see anything!
[Audio fades out again, then back in]
Prince: Ugh! [Gasping] If you can hear me, try to protect your head and keep it above water! Don't fight the current!
[Audio fades out, fades back in with forest sounds and a river, as they both wash up on the river bank]
Prince: [Coughing] I... don't hear anything... I have no idea how far the river brought us, but I think it's far enough that we're safe. Are you still alive over there, Silverspoon?
Listener: ....
Prince: Alright, well stop laying in the mud then. We need to get moving. We need to find shelter, and figure out what we're doing. There’s no way of knowing exactly where we are… but the river should have carried us to the west… ughh, damn it! What the hell even was that thing?!
Listener: ….
Prince: Huh- uh, what? What’s wrong with my… oh.
Listener: ….
Prince: No, it doesn’t normally bend like that, you’re right. For once. I guess it must have happened in the river? A broken arm is going to be a little… annoying.
Listener: ….
Prince: Like I told you before, I feel nothing. It just means this arm likely isn’t going to do me much good for anything out here. I’m just glad it’s not your arm, if I had to deal with you whimpering and complaining about a sore arm, your company would be twice as insufferable as it already is.
Listener: ….
Prince: Excuse me? “Let me see your arm” oh like hell! You’d do more harm than good, your stitches were atrocious, I can only imagine what your patch job for a broken bone would be.
Listener: ….
Prince: No, I said your stitches were ‘good enough’ which is entirely different from good! Just leave me be, I’ll make a sling and that’ll do. [Sound of fabric tearing as he rips his clothes for cloth] As long as I can walk and hold a sword, I’m not concerned. Now, if you’re interested in returning to civilization, I suggest you follow me. Don’t slow me down, or I’ll leave you behind.
[A few moments of silence, and footsteps in the grass/woods/dirt as the two start walking]
Prince: Tell me if you see any animals, we’re going to need food to eat tonight. And keep an eye out for danger, I’m busy trying to make sense of where we are. I know every landmark in the kingdom, I just need to find something definitive, so I don’t have time to focus on threats as well.
Listener: ….
Prince: Yes, I expect we’ll be sleeping in the woods for at least a few days. We weren’t in a very populated area to begin with, it could be days, if not weeks until we come across something. Although, I don’t expect us to last weeks out here.
Listener: ….
Prince: I’m not a pessimist, I’m a realist. My arm is broken which is bound to take its toll eventually, and you’re bruised and cut like the average prisoner in my dungeon. Honestly I’m surprised you didn’t break anything, you’re rather delicate looking. Hold on-... where is your other shoe? You’re missing one.
Listener: …..
Prince: [The prince sighs] Alright, well that’s not going to work. Walking in one high heel is going to make you trip, especially in this terrain. Not to mention if you step on something sharp and can’t walk, you’re going to cause me a lot more trouble. Here, take mine. [The prince takes his shoes off, handing them to the listener]
Listener: ….
Prince: Don’t, just take them. It’s not out of concern, don’t fool yourself. If I hurt my feet, it won’t slow me down. You’re a different story entirely.
Listener: ….
Prince: Good. Now let’s go.
Listener: ….
Prince: I told you, I have no idea what it was. I’ve never seen a beast like that. It looked like some sort of… I don’t even know. Whatever it was, it decimated an entire troop of soldiers. I get the feeling it’s going to be a much bigger problem for me in the future. The main issue is its speed. If it weren’t for the trees slowing it down, we would have certainly died. Ah, not something to focus on now though, I suppose.
[A few moment of silence and just footsteps again]
Prince: What? Why did I save you? I don’t know, it wasn’t really my intention. Instinct, I suppose. You were there in the wagon with me, so I just acted. There wasn’t really time to think about anything. It wasn’t an act of kindness, you just got lucky. Or unlucky, seeing as this means you’re still my prisoner. Most people prefer it to being dead, not all though.
Listener: ….
Prince: Call me dramatic if you want, I don’t care. I’m only trying to give you fair warning, and keep the boundaries of our relationship completely clear. You? Prisoner. Me? Captor. Got that? Right now we’re on a temporary truce to survive a giant monster attack, so just try to make sure you don’t trick yourself into thinking I’m going to look out for you, or that we’re allies of some kind.
Listener: ….
Prince: You’re welcome to think whatever you want, but don’t start crying when you find out that you’re wrong, and get yourself hurt.
[The listener runs towards the prince]
Prince: Pfft, you’ve never been in the woods a day in your life, have you?
Listener: ….
Prince: Well you just ran at me to save you from a bug, so… oh actually you know what, that thing is giant, fair enough. There, it’s taken care of. I wouldn’t want that thing crawling on me, either. Anyway, while we’re stuck out here, I might as well teach you a few things. That way I won’t have to do everything myself. Once I kill us something for dinner, I’ll teach you how to skin and prep it properly. And collect water, that’ll be important too. We’ll go over the basics when we make camp for the night.
[Scene fades out]
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[Scene opens with sounds of a crackling campfire and nighttime ambience]
Prince: You did okay. The shelter hasn’t tipped over yet, and this rabbit isn’t burnt or raw, so that’s a moderate success. Next one we catch, we’ll see if you were paying attention to my ‘introduction to game prep’ crash course. Once the dew forms in the morning, we'll collect it off the big leaves of the trees around here. Not much left to do now. Ugh, I’m exhausted. Maybe I’ll just sleep for a few days and deal with the rest later… oh, right, gotta take- wait.
[The prince rifles through his bag, looking for his medicine. The sound of broken glass shards clicking together is heard, and rifling suddenly stops]
Prince: …damn it. I should have checked my bag sooner… ugh!
Listener: ….
Prince: Uh n-no, it’s nothing. Mind your own business! I… we… need to get back to civilization as soon as possible. Back to the palace.
Listener: ….
Prince I told you before, don’t ask me about it. The only thing you’re serving to do with that is piss me off.
Listener: ….
Prince: It’s not a big deal. In fact it’s no concern at all. I don’t even need it! I don’t think so, at least. I- ugh, didn’t I tell you to mind your own business?
Listener: ….
Prince: Do not call me hornet prince. Look, I would never tell you anything relating to a weakness of mine, because that’s a good way to have them exploited. You may be stupid, but surely you can understand the value of keeping your secrets?
Listener: ….
Prince: You’re… sick? What are you talking about?
Listener: ….
Prince: You… are you saying that because of what I said? Being frail and ill since childhood isn’t all that uncommon, but that explains why you seem so easily exhausted. I mean you looked like you were about to collapse before we jumped in the river, and we only ran for a couple of minutes. I don’t care, though, let me be clear. You sharing a weakness doesn’t really count if you have no strength to stand on anyway.
Listener: ….
Prince. I guess you did at least survive being swept down a river, but I don’t know if I’d classify the state you’re in as ‘well’.
Listener: ….
Prince: You can give up trying to gain my trust, it’s not going to happen. Besides, you just admitted you were lying to me when I found you on the road. Sneaking away from your family is not the story you relayed to me then. Whatever, doesn’t matter now.
Listener: ….
Prince: Ah, now I see. This is your plan to get me to let you look at my arm, hm?
Listener: ….
Prince: You’re not as clever as you think. You’re not very clever at all, honestly, from what I’ve seen. Well, I suppose we’ll be sharing a sleeping space tonight anyway, so… fine. If you try anything, there will be a sword sticking into your chest before you can blink. That’s your only warning. Anyway… here.
[The prince extends his arm, letting the listener check it out]
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Prince: Huh… you know, I’ll admit, I didn’t expect you to know how to set a bone. Your needlework said you didn’t have much doctoring experience, but maybe I’m just used to experts. The doctors in the castle are typically trying not to leave scars, but your stitching is holding well. Where did you learn all this?
Listener: ….
Prince: You… learned by patching up your brothers? Didn’t you have servants to do that for you? And what the hell were your brothers doing as children to require that much medical attention-? Actually forget I asked, I don’t actually care. This will do fine, in any case.
Listener: ….
Prince: If you’re looking for a thank you, it’s not coming. I’m going to sleep now, I’m tired, and talking to someone so boring isn’t helping that.
[The prince stands, walks over to the shelter they built, and the listener follows him. He crawls in and lays down, once again followed by the listener]
Prince: Do your best not to touch me during my sleep, if you startle me, I might end up stabbing you. I’m sure you’d like to avoid that, and I’d like to avoid getting my clothes any bloodier. Stay strictly on your side of the shelter, and we won’t have an issue.
Listener: ….
Prince: Yeah, so what if you get cold? Not my problem, go cuddle a bear or something.
Listener: ….
Prince: Yeah… goodnight, Silverspoon.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
Hope you liked PT 3 of the script! The prince has a cannon name. I thought it might be fun to have people guess what it might be. If you have a guess, please feel free to comment it! A hint is, it has something to do with a general of the distant past. Either way, do you think I should add his name to the script eventually, or keep it blank? I may even leave it up to a creator by creator basis, who knows! Either way, I think an air of mystery is really fun so I include that a lot, but I also really like to give my characters names, haha. Anyway, thank you for reading!
submitted by skyeky_ to ASMRScriptHaven [link] [comments]
Hi everyone! Welcome. please enjoy the script!! Any questions regarding the script please message me directly, but it's okay to monetize and make gender changes, but please no major script changes! Thank you very much for reading!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
[Sounds of panic, running can be heard, soldiers moving around in a battle]
Prince: Don't look back okay? Keep running! We need to make it to the river, there's supposed to be one just through these trees!
Listener: ....
Prince: I don't know what it is, I never saw it, and I said don't look back!
Listener: ....
Prince: There's nothing we can do for them! This is their job, focus on what's in front of you or you'll die too!
[The listener trips and falls. The Prince notices after a second, and hesitates]
Prince: Shit...-
[Prince goes back and pulls the listener up]
Prince: On your feet damn it! The river is just up ahead! Can you swim?
Listener: ....
Prince: Well then I hope you're a fast learner.
[Heavy beast footsteps approaching, something is charging them]
Prince: Shit shit shit- why the hell is it following us?! Damn... it's fast! There's the river, jump, now!
[Listener jumps in]
Prince: Like fuck am I dying to you, ugly.
[Prince jumps in, and the audio fades out]
[Sounds of being underwater, muffled speech as the audio fades back in]
Prince: Hey, Silverspoon! Where the hell are you! [Prince tries not to inhale any water as they're both carried down the river, gasping for air] God damn it, I can't see anything!
[Audio fades out again, then back in]
Prince: Ugh! [Gasping] If you can hear me, try to protect your head and keep it above water! Don't fight the current!
[Audio fades out, fades back in with forest sounds and a river, as they both wash up on the river bank]
Prince: [Coughing] I... don't hear anything... I have no idea how far the river brought us, but I think it's far enough that we're safe. Are you still alive over there, Silverspoon?
Listener: ....
Prince: Alright, well stop laying in the mud then. We need to get moving. We need to find shelter, and figure out what we're doing. There’s no way of knowing exactly where we are… but the river should have carried us to the west… ughh, damn it! What the hell even was that thing?!
Listener: ….
Prince: Huh- uh, what? What’s wrong with my… oh.
Listener: ….
Prince: No, it doesn’t normally bend like that, you’re right. For once. I guess it must have happened in the river? A broken arm is going to be a little… annoying.
Listener: ….
Prince: Like I told you before, I feel nothing. It just means this arm likely isn’t going to do me much good for anything out here. I’m just glad it’s not your arm, if I had to deal with you whimpering and complaining about a sore arm, your company would be twice as insufferable as it already is.
Listener: ….
Prince: Excuse me? “Let me see your arm” oh like hell! You’d do more harm than good, your stitches were atrocious, I can only imagine what your patch job for a broken bone would be.
Listener: ….
Prince: No, I said your stitches were ‘good enough’ which is entirely different from good! Just leave me be, I’ll make a sling and that’ll do. [Sound of fabric tearing as he rips his clothes for cloth] As long as I can walk and hold a sword, I’m not concerned. Now, if you’re interested in returning to civilization, I suggest you follow me. Don’t slow me down, or I’ll leave you behind.
[A few moments of silence, and footsteps in the grass/woods/dirt as the two start walking]
Prince: Tell me if you see any animals, we’re going to need food to eat tonight. And keep an eye out for danger, I’m busy trying to make sense of where we are. I know every landmark in the kingdom, I just need to find something definitive, so I don’t have time to focus on threats as well.
Listener: ….
Prince: Yes, I expect we’ll be sleeping in the woods for at least a few days. We weren’t in a very populated area to begin with, it could be days, if not weeks until we come across something. Although, I don’t expect us to last weeks out here.
Listener: ….
Prince: I’m not a pessimist, I’m a realist. My arm is broken which is bound to take its toll eventually, and you’re bruised and cut like the average prisoner in my dungeon. Honestly I’m surprised you didn’t break anything, you’re rather delicate looking. Hold on-... where is your other shoe? You’re missing one.
Listener: …..
Prince: [The prince sighs] Alright, well that’s not going to work. Walking in one high heel is going to make you trip, especially in this terrain. Not to mention if you step on something sharp and can’t walk, you’re going to cause me a lot more trouble. Here, take mine. [The prince takes his shoes off, handing them to the listener]
Listener: ….
Prince: Don’t, just take them. It’s not out of concern, don’t fool yourself. If I hurt my feet, it won’t slow me down. You’re a different story entirely.
Listener: ….
Prince: Good. Now let’s go.
Listener: ….
Prince: I told you, I have no idea what it was. I’ve never seen a beast like that. It looked like some sort of… I don’t even know. Whatever it was, it decimated an entire troop of soldiers. I get the feeling it’s going to be a much bigger problem for me in the future. The main issue is its speed. If it weren’t for the trees slowing it down, we would have certainly died. Ah, not something to focus on now though, I suppose.
[A few moment of silence and just footsteps again]
Prince: What? Why did I save you? I don’t know, it wasn’t really my intention. Instinct, I suppose. You were there in the wagon with me, so I just acted. There wasn’t really time to think about anything. It wasn’t an act of kindness, you just got lucky. Or unlucky, seeing as this means you’re still my prisoner. Most people prefer it to being dead, not all though.
Listener: ….
Prince: Call me dramatic if you want, I don’t care. I’m only trying to give you fair warning, and keep the boundaries of our relationship completely clear. You? Prisoner. Me? Captor. Got that? Right now we’re on a temporary truce to survive a giant monster attack, so just try to make sure you don’t trick yourself into thinking I’m going to look out for you, or that we’re allies of some kind.
Listener: ….
Prince: You’re welcome to think whatever you want, but don’t start crying when you find out that you’re wrong, and get yourself hurt.
[The listener runs towards the prince]
Prince: Pfft, you’ve never been in the woods a day in your life, have you?
Listener: ….
Prince: Well you just ran at me to save you from a bug, so… oh actually you know what, that thing is giant, fair enough. There, it’s taken care of. I wouldn’t want that thing crawling on me, either. Anyway, while we’re stuck out here, I might as well teach you a few things. That way I won’t have to do everything myself. Once I kill us something for dinner, I’ll teach you how to skin and prep it properly. And collect water, that’ll be important too. We’ll go over the basics when we make camp for the night.
[Scene fades out]
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[Scene opens with sounds of a crackling campfire and nighttime ambience]
Prince: You did okay. The shelter hasn’t tipped over yet, and this rabbit isn’t burnt or raw, so that’s a moderate success. Next one we catch, we’ll see if you were paying attention to my ‘introduction to game prep’ crash course. Once the dew forms in the morning, we'll collect it off the big leaves of the trees around here. Not much left to do now. Ugh, I’m exhausted. Maybe I’ll just sleep for a few days and deal with the rest later… oh, right, gotta take- wait.
[The prince rifles through his bag, looking for his medicine. The sound of broken glass shards clicking together is heard, and rifling suddenly stops]
Prince: …damn it. I should have checked my bag sooner… ugh!
Listener: ….
Prince: Uh n-no, it’s nothing. Mind your own business! I… we… need to get back to civilization as soon as possible. Back to the palace.
Listener: ….
Prince I told you before, don’t ask me about it. The only thing you’re serving to do with that is piss me off.
Listener: ….
Prince: It’s not a big deal. In fact it’s no concern at all. I don’t even need it! I don’t think so, at least. I- ugh, didn’t I tell you to mind your own business?
Listener: ….
Prince: Do not call me hornet prince. Look, I would never tell you anything relating to a weakness of mine, because that’s a good way to have them exploited. You may be stupid, but surely you can understand the value of keeping your secrets?
Listener: ….
Prince: You’re… sick? What are you talking about?
Listener: ….
Prince: You… are you saying that because of what I said? Being frail and ill since childhood isn’t all that uncommon, but that explains why you seem so easily exhausted. I mean you looked like you were about to collapse before we jumped in the river, and we only ran for a couple of minutes. I don’t care, though, let me be clear. You sharing a weakness doesn’t really count if you have no strength to stand on anyway.
Listener: ….
Prince. I guess you did at least survive being swept down a river, but I don’t know if I’d classify the state you’re in as ‘well’.
Listener: ….
Prince: You can give up trying to gain my trust, it’s not going to happen. Besides, you just admitted you were lying to me when I found you on the road. Sneaking away from your family is not the story you relayed to me then. Whatever, doesn’t matter now.
Listener: ….
Prince: Ah, now I see. This is your plan to get me to let you look at my arm, hm?
Listener: ….
Prince: You’re not as clever as you think. You’re not very clever at all, honestly, from what I’ve seen. Well, I suppose we’ll be sharing a sleeping space tonight anyway, so… fine. If you try anything, there will be a sword sticking into your chest before you can blink. That’s your only warning. Anyway… here.
[The prince extends his arm, letting the listener check it out]
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Prince: Huh… you know, I’ll admit, I didn’t expect you to know how to set a bone. Your needlework said you didn’t have much doctoring experience, but maybe I’m just used to experts. The doctors in the castle are typically trying not to leave scars, but your stitching is holding well. Where did you learn all this?
Listener: ….
Prince: You… learned by patching up your brothers? Didn’t you have servants to do that for you? And what the hell were your brothers doing as children to require that much medical attention-? Actually forget I asked, I don’t actually care. This will do fine, in any case.
Listener: ….
Prince: If you’re looking for a thank you, it’s not coming. I’m going to sleep now, I’m tired, and talking to someone so boring isn’t helping that.
[The prince stands, walks over to the shelter they built, and the listener follows him. He crawls in and lays down, once again followed by the listener]
Prince: Do your best not to touch me during my sleep, if you startle me, I might end up stabbing you. I’m sure you’d like to avoid that, and I’d like to avoid getting my clothes any bloodier. Stay strictly on your side of the shelter, and we won’t have an issue.
Listener: ….
Prince: Yeah, so what if you get cold? Not my problem, go cuddle a bear or something.
Listener: ….
Prince: Yeah… goodnight, Silverspoon.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
Hope you liked PT 3 of the script! The prince has a cannon name. I thought it might be fun to have people guess what it might be. If you have a guess, please feel free to comment it! A hint is, it has something to do with a general of the distant past. Either way, do you think I should add his name to the script eventually, or keep it blank? I may even leave it up to a creator by creator basis, who knows! Either way, I think an air of mystery is really fun so I include that a lot, but I also really like to give my characters names, haha. Anyway, thank you for reading!
2024.05.21 07:19 Wind_of_Change123 AirTag 2 With Better Location Tracking Now In Testing, Insider Says
 | Apple released the AirTag in early 2021, creating a clever tracker that leveraged the ubiquity of Apple devices. If you lose an AirTag, it silently contacts a nearby Apple device to send a message to you of its whereabouts. Now, we learn, a new AirTag is on its way.According to Bloomberg’s Mark Gurman in his latest Power On newsletter, we should “get ready for a new AirTag.” I mean, it’s not coming overnight, you understand, and Gurman predicts the new version, with the exciting code-name of B589, is scheduled to arrive “around the middle of next year.”That’s some time off, then. But the excitement around it can begin to build, courtesy of the news that “Apple is already doing test runs with manufacturing partners in Asia,” Gurman says. There’s not much more information forthcoming, perhaps unsurprisingly given it’s about a year off. The report does say that we should expect a better chip with improved location tracking. That’s good, but improved how, exactly? Will it pin down locations to a more precise place? Or transmit data faster to reconnect you with your missing AirTag more quickly? Either would be good, of course. And the exact improvements may still be under discussion. After all, Apple has just released improvements to the current AirTag in the last few days with iOS 17.5, so that errant trackers that have been improperly following you will be notified. Until last week, only AirTags would make themselves known, but now a much wider range of Bluetooth trackers will be revealed. https://preview.redd.it/lt3cft15sp1d1.jpg?width=958&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=9b2bf7d48b18d244900fa852bb9a97e6366e4e07 |
2024.05.21 06:47 No_Marzipan_1230 Industrial Mage: Modernizing A Magical World - Chapter 02 – The Blight
Synopsis:
An engineer in another world—blending science and magic to achieve greatness in a world where skills and levels reign supreme.
—
Ethan was just a plain old engineer, but everything changed when he was reborn into a world of skills, levels, and magic. With his advanced knowledge far ahead of the time period he finds himself in, this new reincarnated life will be much different than his last, especially because he can construct, deconstruct, and reconstruct runes—something no one else can do.
But with royal politics, looming tax collectors, a mountain of debt, dungeon incursions, cults, and hostile fantasy races mixing together into a cocktail of bullshit that threatens to bury his dreams; Ethan must bridge the gap between steel and sorcery to grow stronger.
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Roland cursed under his breath as he trudged down the muddy path toward Lord Theodore's manor. The late early morning sun cast long shadows, painting the desolate landscape in an even bleaker light.
Why was it only him who had to deal with Lord Theodore's bullshit? Just last night, Roland had to take care of all the complaints from the bar he'd found Lord Theodore at. Not to mention, he had to pay compensation to the wenches from his own personal funds.
And that wasn't even half the things he'd done yesterday alone.
After all, Lord Theodore was either busy abusing his power and bullying the people of the town, gambling, drinking, getting wasted with his face stuck up a prostitute, or doing his fourth favorite activity which, naturally, was a combination of the latter three. The man wasn't the brightest, but he wasn't quite dumb enough to avoid dealing with the problems the town of Holden faced.
Roland shook his head when he made it to the estate gates. As expected, there were guards, servants, and soldiers dashing left and right, but he was ignored. It was time to beg Lord Theodore to attend to his duties. None dared stop him, for he was a [Knight] appointed to Lord Theodore by his father—Lord Alexander Lockheart—and an acting advisor while said lord was being, well, his usual idiotic and selfish self.
So, Roland did what he had to; he moved past them all, and made for Lord Theodore's sleeping quarters where a handful of maids were all fussing about like hens with their heads chopped off.
Lord Theodore's quarters were not large by noble standards, but impressive all the same. Lavish and gaudy, just as he expected. Tapestries and drapes were hung up high all about the walls, and on the ground, there were expensive fur carpets.
After moving past the maids and butlers who were currently shuffling about like a horde of ants whose nest was threatened by a boar, he stopped before a silk drape that barred the way to Lord Theodore's bedchambers.
"Lord Theodore," he called.
Silence.
"Lord Theodore?"
Nothing.
Feeling a little annoyed, Roland frowned. "Lord Theodore," he called again. "With all due respect, are you presently attired?"
Nothing but a muffled sound came from the other side. Roland grimaced, and looked up at the ceiling in exasperation before dropping his hand and tugging the curtain aside. The inside of the bedchamber wasn't much to look at. Just your average nobleman's bedroom with a canopy bed big enough to fit twelve women side-by-side.
Most did, in fact, do just that.
A bookshelf stood on each wall, and at the far end was another drape that led to an enclosed balcony where he had the gall to throw his used clothes through during summer.
"Greetings, my lord," Roland said.
Lord Theodore, however, didn't answer.
He sat in front of a full-length mirror on the dresser. He had this listless sort of look, like he just didn't know how to deal with things. It wasn't an expression he'd ever seen on the man's face.
"Lord Theodore, are you well?" Roland inquired, a sliver of unease creeping into his voice. Though he found the young lord childish—given he was barely eighteen years old—Lord Theodore was his responsibility. He'd been Roland's responsibility when he was a little brat, and even now.
Theodore gave a startled response. "Ah, Roland? Yes, I am quite well."
"My lord, with all due respect, I implore you to be truthful. Has something transpired?"
Roland was anxious now. While he harbored no particular fondness for Lord Theodore, a sworn oath bound him to protect and care for the Baron. Granted, his master, Lord Theodore's own father, had afforded him considerable autonomy within Holden's borders—heck, he could even go as far as beating up Lord Theodore without consequences, if Roland deemed it reasonable and necessary—but his code of honor held oaths sacred. The son of the house Varian would rather lose an arm and his birthright than break a single [Oath] made.
"No, truly, I'm fine."
"If that is the case," Roland acknowledged with a curt nod, "then I bear news."
Lord Theodore furrowed his brow. "Good news, I trust?"
"I'm afraid not," Roland sighed. "Yesterday, our patrol in the Deadwoods encountered a band of brigands...…"
Lord Theodore's frown deepened. "While banditry is a common occurrence, it often heralds further troubles. Elaborate, Roland."
"Indeed, my lord," Roland continued, "these brigands weren't merely causing a ruckus. Apparently, they were engaged in combat with a rather formidable creature, vaguely humanoid in form."
Lord Theodore's posture stiffened. "Vaguely humanoid? Can you provide further details?"
Roland shook his head. "Limited information, I'm afraid. Only reports of unnatural speed reached our ears; it appeared to be engaged with wolves. Both fled upon human-contact, however."
Lord Theodore stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Did our men prevail against the brigands? And this creature—surely Captain..." he paused, searching for the man's name.
"Thomas," Roland supplied.
"Ah, yes, Thomas. Holden is geographically close to the Deadwoods. Sir Thomas wouldn't simply abandon such a threat near the bordertowns, would he? He and I may not see eye to eye on certain matters, but... surely he wouldn't leave such a threat unaddressed." Lord Theodore said.
Roland hesitated. "Captain Thomas chose to bypass us and directly inform the Crown of their discovery. He remained tight-lipped regarding specifics despite repeated inquiries."
Lord Theodore hummed thoughtfully. "If Thomas deems it worthy of the Crown's attention, then it surpasses our jurisdiction. Let's hope for their swift and decisive action. What of the brigands? Eliminated, I presume?"
"So it seems," Roland replied. "All but one met their demise. The sole survivor remains in a cell, though maddened beyond reason."
"I see. Is that for now?" Lord Theodore leaned back in his chair.
"Not quite, my lord. We've had a recent outbreak of the Blight, and we suspect it was an intentional spread. Unfortunately, the culprit remains unidentified."
Theodore's expression morphed into one of genuine shock. "Are these two seemingly unrelated issues connected, perhaps?" He asked.
"It appears to be the case, my lord." A sigh escaped Roland's lips. The Blight—a magical sickness that eats away at your life force, causes lethargy, nausea, and kills you, all while your body radiates a pervasive foul odor. It had recently taken hold on a few people of Holden. Why or how, Roland did not know.
"Those afflicted have been quarantined in a secure location far from Holden to prevent further contagion. Our physicians are doing their utmost to manage them. However, several have died already, and the remaining victims exhibit signs of feral behavior—meaning, they have already entered the late stage, I'm afraid. It's become imperative that they remain under quarantine, lest they either bite other humans—given there's hunger for raw flesh in the late stage—or they could infect the crops, causing them to decay. Consequently, the farmers, understandably anxious, have retreated into their homes."
They were likely waiting for their lord, incompetent as he may be, to deal with the situation. Yet, he had his hand up a wench's skirt more than actually trying to fix the issues... What can I do with him? Roland sighed.
Lord Theodore rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Roland."
"Yes, my lord?"
"Do you think the Merchant Guild would let me have another loan?"
Roland's lips thinned into a line, but he shook his head. "Regrettably, my lord, they would not. The Merchants' Guild has been cautious lately. There was this whole unpleasant affair with a prominent [Merchant Lord] named Bertram, you might know the name. Used to flaunt more gold jewelry than some of the highborn nobles. Turns out, he was embezzling.
"Apparently, he manipulated the Guild's books for months. Inflated trade contracts with nonexistent suppliers from faraway lands, siphoned off the extra profit into his own pockets. Clever, gotta give him that. Even forged shipping manifests to keep it all looking legit.
"Nasty business, that. Apparently, the esteemed Lord Bertram decided a little vacation was in order after everything, and wouldn't you know it, he packed a rather hefty sum from the Guild's coffers along for the ride as well. We're talking a near royal-wedding-sized dowry here, my lord. Vanished, all of it.
"The details are still murky, but rumor has it Bertram might have gotten tangled with pirates operating from the Broken Isles. One of the [Pirate Kings], perhaps—or most likely. So, the Merchants' Guild has been refraining from giving out loans. And, my apologies to say this, my lord, but you're a high-risk individual, and you already have quite the debt with them... They wouldn't want to give more."
Lord Theodore already had a mountain of debt on his name... The interest rate was more than what Lord Theodore could pay off even if the crops did better than planned. Given that the Adventurers' Guild of this sector had been rather short on manpower lately due to a dungeon incursion in the town, Corinth, lying beside theirs and given that Lord Theodore had a tendency for tax evasion and then laundering… Yeah, they were royally fucked. Even if in this situation, Lord Theodore wanted a loan for himself... Roland just gave up. Maybe it was time to return to his master, Lord Theodore's father, and just ask him to appoint him somewhere else—he couldn't deal with this scumbag anymore, not in his current state.
"I see, they wouldn't. Not surprising. It seems I'm going to have to hire a [Necromancer] by my lonesome."
Roland blinked. "That's..." a shock, Roland stopped himself from saying. [Necromancers] cost a hefty sum, and given that Lord Theodore was already under debt and likely the financial situation of Holden was anything but optimal, hiring a [Necromancer] would've put a huge dent in Holden's already meager reserves. However, Roland hadn't imagined, not in his wildest dreams, that Lord Theodore would be employing one by his lonesome.
Throughout his life, Roland had known this man to not even spare a thought to anything that wasn't his immediate self-gratification, or his amusement and satisfaction. How was the wastrel noble suddenly going to change?
"My lord, my apologies for asking, but why do you require a [Necromancer's] assistance?" Roland finally asked, schooling his shocked expression.
"Oh, I have some... theories regarding the Blight." Lord Theodore grinned. "And a [Necromancer] might just be someone who we need in order to solve this problem once and for all."
Roland was shocked to his core, once more. "But, my lord, the treatment for the Blight isn't something common folk can afford? So, how...?"
"Nonsense, Roland. Forget that rudimentary concoction they peddle as a cure. I envision a more... permanent solution. Issue a commission at the Adventurers' Guild—a [Necromancer] or perhaps a [Witch], their talents are equally suited for this task."
"Yes, my lord." Roland bowed, failing to comprehend what Lord Theodore was planning on doing.
-2-
When Roland left, Ethan found it easier to relax. The stiff, aristocratic manners these people employed were rather annoying to bear with. No, they were rather hard to imitate, more accurately. Because despite his efforts, he'd still found it hard to match their ways, but it was doable. Not good enough, yet, but doable.
"How should I, going forward, act, then?" he muttered. "Because if I've understood a single thing, it is this: Theo's character as I know it now will ruin any chance of me, well, earning anything, be that respect, wealth, power, or all three. Should I continue as him, then, or completely overhaul Theodore's character and pretend it's some epiphany? A spiritual enlightenment, perhaps?"
Ethan shook his head. Whatever it may be, he wasn't planning on being like Theo. Let's go with a gradual change in mannerism.
First, however, he needed to deal with the Blight issue. Which would be easily dealt with—all he had to do was pay the [Necromancer], or [Witch], from his own pouch. Then, he needed to figure out this town's financial status and everything else in order to organize a working infrastructure and create new financial opportunities. Afterwards, he could move onto his 'character', if that is indeed what his situation required. There's a lot to do.
Before everything, however, a bath.
After all, he reeked of sweat and alcohol, among other not-so pleasant scents.
...
It took no more than a few minutes for a handful of servants to prepare the bath. Hot water steamed inside the spacious tub as soap bubbles glistened—soap that was far too expensive for the common folk. Despite being a luxury, its quality was arguably trash. Regardless, this was all the people had in this world. A strong scent of lavender permeated the air and tickled his nose as he undressed. A few maids had prepared for his comfort and placed a silken bathrobe alongside a set of towels on a small table near the bathtub before he'd dismissed them, ordering them to inform the kitchen staff that he would like his meal soon.
Ethan relaxed his shoulders, took the robe with one hand, and tossed it carelessly nearby. It was fine silk. Ethan shook his head before proceeding with an easy grace into the water. It was hot. Yet, Ethan felt rather cold, despite the heat. It helped him relax, and with it, the stiff persona that was Lord Theodore faded.
Ethan sank deeper, letting his long blond locks loose. A quick thought made him bring his hand forward. What if... he could make a fire? Just a little one, like a candle flame. How cool would that be? He focused, willing a tiny spark to appear on his fingertip. Nothing. Just a sputter and a fizzle.
"Hmm," he mumbled, undeterred. "Maybe I need to practice."
He doubted it was just understanding. After all, the skill [Elemental Spells] had given him the barest hints of the basics of how to create a basic spark of flame. He lacked control over mana. [Magic Perception] allowed him to view his mana—flowing, fast-moving streams and spiraling, coiling vortexes. It was chaotic; it was a mess! Maybe if he calmed it down, he could actually make something happen?
Easier said than done, he quickly learned. When he moved it, it took no less effort than bending metal with brute force. The feeling was there, and the will, too. Just the act of 'moving' it alone was a herculean effort. It seemed nigh impossible.
Maybe I'm doing it wrong?
Humming, Ethan looked through the snippets of memories he'd gotten from Theodore. The memories, he found, weren't entirely useless; as his mind drifted back and forth from those flashes, he did remember something Theodore had seen last night... There! A memory from last night—a drunk mage at the bar, showing off with a fireball for some girl who didn't seem too impressed.
"Let's see how that trick works," Ethan grinned.
With [Magic Perception], he saw how the spell flowed. The "spell" was, in a way, forced outwards into reality through the use of symbols he quickly recognized as runes—at least that was what he assumed after seeing the fireball.
Ethan could easily recall the shape of the rune that'd appeared before the fire took form on top of the mage's hand.
I'm pretty sure it's not possible to view runes. I assume, at least, from what little fragments of memories I got from Theo. Anyway, let's move my mana in the shape, then.
He imagined the shape on top of his hand and willed the mana to pour into it. Soon, rune motes started forming out of thin air, ripping into reality. Forming into a shape he willed, a rune burned brightly and loudly atop his palm. As he drew his hand forward, flames burst into life, flickering before fizzling out.
[Basic Magic Script] — Lvl 1 -> Lvl 2!
Congratulations! You have gained skill: [Basic Rune Creation]!
"Whoa." Ethan stared at his hand, a wide grin splitting his face. So that's how it works! Runes, huh? That's awesome! Ethan felt like a child again. He couldn't wait to try again, this time with a smaller flame, as it appeared that a fireball was far too much for his lacking skill and control. Magic... it was epic stuff!
Before that, however, he looked at the new skill he'd gained.
~Basic Rune Creation – Level 1~
Type: Active
Effect: You have grasped the fundamental concept of using runes to channel and shape your mana for basic magical effects. The Connection between two of your skill—[Magic Perception] and [Basic Magic Script]—has resulted in the creation of a new skill. You can now create simple runes that allow for the manipulation of elemental energy on a small scale. As your skill level increases, you will be able to create more complex runes, allowing for more powerful and versatile spells. You may also learn to combine runes for even greater magical effects.
Ethan stared. Reading the description was a quick matter of concentration. It took him by surprise, however, when he realized it. Rune creation? Huh. Does that mean I can create anything? The thought alone was exciting. What about rune motes? Rune motes were fragments of runes, combining certain fragments could result in a full rune. I saw them congregating into the shape of a rune, but is it possible to just create rune motes and not a full rune? I should try.
Regardless of his thoughts, it was creation—
—and Ethan loved creation. Even as a child, he had never gotten tired of tinkering with things. He still recalled the time he'd gotten his first Lego set. Just putting random pieces together with no thought for a bigger picture—he'd loved that. He'd loved doing all sorts of stuff with Legos, creating different castles or other complex structures, but it was building something completely random and ridiculous, yet unique nonetheless, which gave him the most sense of satisfaction. It was fun. It was a hobby—a hobby that ignited in him a fire of passion for innovation.
It was then the thought of being a civil engineer had sprung up in his mind. To put it simply, a civil engineer is responsible for planning, designing, and constructing buildings. Though, that was just a general term. Ethan would have been perfectly happy had he chosen that. Unfortunately, his father had wanted him to become a boxer, instead.
The man wanted to become one himself in his prime, but due to health issues, he'd quit right before making it to a big league. He'd hoped his son would achieve what he couldn't and bring victory for the family. Even though Ethan hadn't exactly planned boxing as his future, but who could refuse the pressure his old man put on him? Especially when he'd been just a little boy?
It was another matter entirely that Ethan fell in love with boxing, too, as it made him feel alive. The sensation of a punching bag slamming against his fists? Nothing quite made his blood boil like that.
And oh, fighting in the ring. There was just something about the sport Ethan couldn't resist.
Something about creation, fighting, and experiencing a bit of both, had Ethan wishing he could try the other options that lay in front of him now.
Could he make a real spaceship, in this world?
It sounded silly as fuck and he knew it. Nonetheless, the temptation was still there, hovering and nagging at the edge of his mind, as ridiculous as his previous thoughts might have been.
Spaceships are cool, dammit.
That thought suddenly gave Ethan pause. "Let's just return to practice."
This time, fire flickered atop his fingertips for a second longer.
Another second was added on top of that after his third try.
The light was dim. However, it did mean something: improvement.
[Elemental Spells] — Lvl 1 -> Lvl 2!
Grinning like an idiot, Ethan sank deeper into the hot bath water and brought his other hand up to repeat the exercise for the next half an hour or so, occasionally reading a notification that would come every now and then.
[Elemental Spells] — Lvl 2 -> Lvl 3!
[Elemental Spells] — Lvl 3 -> Lvl 4!
[Elemental Spells] — Lvl 4 -> Lvl 5!
But no matter what, he couldn't get it to level up to level 6, nor could he level up [Basic Magic Script] from level 2 to 3.
Why not, though? I'm doing—
"Don't rush," he chided himself. "Your control is pitiful, shaping is trash, and your spellcasting is akin to tossing stones into the sea without even knowing how to make it bounce—guesswork is all you are, but it's a good start, I suppose."
As he set a handful of candle-like flames afloat on all five of his fingers, his lips quirked into a wide smirk. It was only a party trick. For now, that is. I need to find more about magic and learn. I've been winging it.
That was true; he didn't understand anything about magic. All he'd done so far was try to emulate the rune he'd seen in the memory snippet through the help of [Magic Perception] and cast a few party tricks. Was that impressive? He had literally no comparison to base off of, thus why he knew he needed to learn more.
Theodore's memories proved to be useless in this regard, too. His father hadn't found him worthy enough to be assigned a mage as a tutor. Theodore was a disappointment through and through, and that's why he'd been sent to rule the bordertowns.
He could cast the spell, yes, but he didn't understand the underlying concepts that fueled the magic or what the process was.
-3-
Ethan descended down the stairs that would lead him to the dining room where breakfast had already been laid out for him. Two maids were present as well. It was a feast of the likes he'd only ever read in fairy tales. Fried, scrambled, boiled eggs. Different shapes, sizes, and cuts. Cakes and pies in varying quantities and sizes. Grilled meat, smoked and salted. How could he ever eat everything alone?
Ethan exhaled and then dove in; however, he still maintained decorum as it was imperative to do so given that he was a noble now. Regardless, once done, he made it to the meeting room given that he had some people to meet today.
"Barely breaking even," Ethan muttered, flicking the parchment in his hand. He frowned at the financial situation of Holden, the town he was in charge of. The bordertowns consisted of a series of towns lying on the periphery of the borders. Each town was a barony in name, and nobles—especially troublesome nobles—were often sent here to practice ruling and to make them accustomed to how the common folk lived, so they could empathize with the people they ruled.
With how many bandits the region had had lately, the Blight, debt, tax, and interest that'd ramped up, Ethan's current situation was mind-fucking at best and a keg waiting to explode at worst.
I don't want to deal with Theo's issues.
Not only was this whole situation something Ethan did not want in the slightest, a whole can of worms that were Theo's problems was thrust into his hands. Ethan had held no fantasies of getting isekai'd. That was suicide in his books. He'd have been more than happy to die and meet oblivion. But now that he was here…
Leaning back into his chair, Ethan rubbed his eyes. Yeah, he needed to deal with everything and make the best of his situation to live a comfortable life. When Roland returned with a man in tow, Ethan hummed.
The man was young, younger than Roland, even. Black hair and sharp green eyes. He held himself high with confidence and Ethan recognized him instantly. Isn't he that mage from the bar?
"My lord," Roland bowed. "I have brought a [Necromancer] as per your command."
The [Necromancer] bowed and with a thin smile said, "Pleased to be at your service, my lord. The name's Jack."
Hm. So he wasn't a mage but a [Necromancer].
"Likewise," Ethan replied with a nod, then leaned forward, smiling. "Say, Jack, would you like to be part of a business opportunity?
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submitted by No_Marzipan_1230 to HFY [link] [comments]
An engineer in another world—blending science and magic to achieve greatness in a world where skills and levels reign supreme.
—
Ethan was just a plain old engineer, but everything changed when he was reborn into a world of skills, levels, and magic. With his advanced knowledge far ahead of the time period he finds himself in, this new reincarnated life will be much different than his last, especially because he can construct, deconstruct, and reconstruct runes—something no one else can do.
But with royal politics, looming tax collectors, a mountain of debt, dungeon incursions, cults, and hostile fantasy races mixing together into a cocktail of bullshit that threatens to bury his dreams; Ethan must bridge the gap between steel and sorcery to grow stronger.
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Chapter 02
-1-Roland cursed under his breath as he trudged down the muddy path toward Lord Theodore's manor. The late early morning sun cast long shadows, painting the desolate landscape in an even bleaker light.
Why was it only him who had to deal with Lord Theodore's bullshit? Just last night, Roland had to take care of all the complaints from the bar he'd found Lord Theodore at. Not to mention, he had to pay compensation to the wenches from his own personal funds.
And that wasn't even half the things he'd done yesterday alone.
After all, Lord Theodore was either busy abusing his power and bullying the people of the town, gambling, drinking, getting wasted with his face stuck up a prostitute, or doing his fourth favorite activity which, naturally, was a combination of the latter three. The man wasn't the brightest, but he wasn't quite dumb enough to avoid dealing with the problems the town of Holden faced.
Roland shook his head when he made it to the estate gates. As expected, there were guards, servants, and soldiers dashing left and right, but he was ignored. It was time to beg Lord Theodore to attend to his duties. None dared stop him, for he was a [Knight] appointed to Lord Theodore by his father—Lord Alexander Lockheart—and an acting advisor while said lord was being, well, his usual idiotic and selfish self.
So, Roland did what he had to; he moved past them all, and made for Lord Theodore's sleeping quarters where a handful of maids were all fussing about like hens with their heads chopped off.
Lord Theodore's quarters were not large by noble standards, but impressive all the same. Lavish and gaudy, just as he expected. Tapestries and drapes were hung up high all about the walls, and on the ground, there were expensive fur carpets.
After moving past the maids and butlers who were currently shuffling about like a horde of ants whose nest was threatened by a boar, he stopped before a silk drape that barred the way to Lord Theodore's bedchambers.
"Lord Theodore," he called.
Silence.
"Lord Theodore?"
Nothing.
Feeling a little annoyed, Roland frowned. "Lord Theodore," he called again. "With all due respect, are you presently attired?"
Nothing but a muffled sound came from the other side. Roland grimaced, and looked up at the ceiling in exasperation before dropping his hand and tugging the curtain aside. The inside of the bedchamber wasn't much to look at. Just your average nobleman's bedroom with a canopy bed big enough to fit twelve women side-by-side.
Most did, in fact, do just that.
A bookshelf stood on each wall, and at the far end was another drape that led to an enclosed balcony where he had the gall to throw his used clothes through during summer.
"Greetings, my lord," Roland said.
Lord Theodore, however, didn't answer.
He sat in front of a full-length mirror on the dresser. He had this listless sort of look, like he just didn't know how to deal with things. It wasn't an expression he'd ever seen on the man's face.
"Lord Theodore, are you well?" Roland inquired, a sliver of unease creeping into his voice. Though he found the young lord childish—given he was barely eighteen years old—Lord Theodore was his responsibility. He'd been Roland's responsibility when he was a little brat, and even now.
Theodore gave a startled response. "Ah, Roland? Yes, I am quite well."
"My lord, with all due respect, I implore you to be truthful. Has something transpired?"
Roland was anxious now. While he harbored no particular fondness for Lord Theodore, a sworn oath bound him to protect and care for the Baron. Granted, his master, Lord Theodore's own father, had afforded him considerable autonomy within Holden's borders—heck, he could even go as far as beating up Lord Theodore without consequences, if Roland deemed it reasonable and necessary—but his code of honor held oaths sacred. The son of the house Varian would rather lose an arm and his birthright than break a single [Oath] made.
"No, truly, I'm fine."
"If that is the case," Roland acknowledged with a curt nod, "then I bear news."
Lord Theodore furrowed his brow. "Good news, I trust?"
"I'm afraid not," Roland sighed. "Yesterday, our patrol in the Deadwoods encountered a band of brigands...…"
Lord Theodore's frown deepened. "While banditry is a common occurrence, it often heralds further troubles. Elaborate, Roland."
"Indeed, my lord," Roland continued, "these brigands weren't merely causing a ruckus. Apparently, they were engaged in combat with a rather formidable creature, vaguely humanoid in form."
Lord Theodore's posture stiffened. "Vaguely humanoid? Can you provide further details?"
Roland shook his head. "Limited information, I'm afraid. Only reports of unnatural speed reached our ears; it appeared to be engaged with wolves. Both fled upon human-contact, however."
Lord Theodore stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Did our men prevail against the brigands? And this creature—surely Captain..." he paused, searching for the man's name.
"Thomas," Roland supplied.
"Ah, yes, Thomas. Holden is geographically close to the Deadwoods. Sir Thomas wouldn't simply abandon such a threat near the bordertowns, would he? He and I may not see eye to eye on certain matters, but... surely he wouldn't leave such a threat unaddressed." Lord Theodore said.
Roland hesitated. "Captain Thomas chose to bypass us and directly inform the Crown of their discovery. He remained tight-lipped regarding specifics despite repeated inquiries."
Lord Theodore hummed thoughtfully. "If Thomas deems it worthy of the Crown's attention, then it surpasses our jurisdiction. Let's hope for their swift and decisive action. What of the brigands? Eliminated, I presume?"
"So it seems," Roland replied. "All but one met their demise. The sole survivor remains in a cell, though maddened beyond reason."
"I see. Is that for now?" Lord Theodore leaned back in his chair.
"Not quite, my lord. We've had a recent outbreak of the Blight, and we suspect it was an intentional spread. Unfortunately, the culprit remains unidentified."
Theodore's expression morphed into one of genuine shock. "Are these two seemingly unrelated issues connected, perhaps?" He asked.
"It appears to be the case, my lord." A sigh escaped Roland's lips. The Blight—a magical sickness that eats away at your life force, causes lethargy, nausea, and kills you, all while your body radiates a pervasive foul odor. It had recently taken hold on a few people of Holden. Why or how, Roland did not know.
"Those afflicted have been quarantined in a secure location far from Holden to prevent further contagion. Our physicians are doing their utmost to manage them. However, several have died already, and the remaining victims exhibit signs of feral behavior—meaning, they have already entered the late stage, I'm afraid. It's become imperative that they remain under quarantine, lest they either bite other humans—given there's hunger for raw flesh in the late stage—or they could infect the crops, causing them to decay. Consequently, the farmers, understandably anxious, have retreated into their homes."
They were likely waiting for their lord, incompetent as he may be, to deal with the situation. Yet, he had his hand up a wench's skirt more than actually trying to fix the issues... What can I do with him? Roland sighed.
Lord Theodore rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Roland."
"Yes, my lord?"
"Do you think the Merchant Guild would let me have another loan?"
Roland's lips thinned into a line, but he shook his head. "Regrettably, my lord, they would not. The Merchants' Guild has been cautious lately. There was this whole unpleasant affair with a prominent [Merchant Lord] named Bertram, you might know the name. Used to flaunt more gold jewelry than some of the highborn nobles. Turns out, he was embezzling.
"Apparently, he manipulated the Guild's books for months. Inflated trade contracts with nonexistent suppliers from faraway lands, siphoned off the extra profit into his own pockets. Clever, gotta give him that. Even forged shipping manifests to keep it all looking legit.
"Nasty business, that. Apparently, the esteemed Lord Bertram decided a little vacation was in order after everything, and wouldn't you know it, he packed a rather hefty sum from the Guild's coffers along for the ride as well. We're talking a near royal-wedding-sized dowry here, my lord. Vanished, all of it.
"The details are still murky, but rumor has it Bertram might have gotten tangled with pirates operating from the Broken Isles. One of the [Pirate Kings], perhaps—or most likely. So, the Merchants' Guild has been refraining from giving out loans. And, my apologies to say this, my lord, but you're a high-risk individual, and you already have quite the debt with them... They wouldn't want to give more."
Lord Theodore already had a mountain of debt on his name... The interest rate was more than what Lord Theodore could pay off even if the crops did better than planned. Given that the Adventurers' Guild of this sector had been rather short on manpower lately due to a dungeon incursion in the town, Corinth, lying beside theirs and given that Lord Theodore had a tendency for tax evasion and then laundering… Yeah, they were royally fucked. Even if in this situation, Lord Theodore wanted a loan for himself... Roland just gave up. Maybe it was time to return to his master, Lord Theodore's father, and just ask him to appoint him somewhere else—he couldn't deal with this scumbag anymore, not in his current state.
"I see, they wouldn't. Not surprising. It seems I'm going to have to hire a [Necromancer] by my lonesome."
Roland blinked. "That's..." a shock, Roland stopped himself from saying. [Necromancers] cost a hefty sum, and given that Lord Theodore was already under debt and likely the financial situation of Holden was anything but optimal, hiring a [Necromancer] would've put a huge dent in Holden's already meager reserves. However, Roland hadn't imagined, not in his wildest dreams, that Lord Theodore would be employing one by his lonesome.
Throughout his life, Roland had known this man to not even spare a thought to anything that wasn't his immediate self-gratification, or his amusement and satisfaction. How was the wastrel noble suddenly going to change?
"My lord, my apologies for asking, but why do you require a [Necromancer's] assistance?" Roland finally asked, schooling his shocked expression.
"Oh, I have some... theories regarding the Blight." Lord Theodore grinned. "And a [Necromancer] might just be someone who we need in order to solve this problem once and for all."
Roland was shocked to his core, once more. "But, my lord, the treatment for the Blight isn't something common folk can afford? So, how...?"
"Nonsense, Roland. Forget that rudimentary concoction they peddle as a cure. I envision a more... permanent solution. Issue a commission at the Adventurers' Guild—a [Necromancer] or perhaps a [Witch], their talents are equally suited for this task."
"Yes, my lord." Roland bowed, failing to comprehend what Lord Theodore was planning on doing.
-2-
When Roland left, Ethan found it easier to relax. The stiff, aristocratic manners these people employed were rather annoying to bear with. No, they were rather hard to imitate, more accurately. Because despite his efforts, he'd still found it hard to match their ways, but it was doable. Not good enough, yet, but doable.
"How should I, going forward, act, then?" he muttered. "Because if I've understood a single thing, it is this: Theo's character as I know it now will ruin any chance of me, well, earning anything, be that respect, wealth, power, or all three. Should I continue as him, then, or completely overhaul Theodore's character and pretend it's some epiphany? A spiritual enlightenment, perhaps?"
Ethan shook his head. Whatever it may be, he wasn't planning on being like Theo. Let's go with a gradual change in mannerism.
First, however, he needed to deal with the Blight issue. Which would be easily dealt with—all he had to do was pay the [Necromancer], or [Witch], from his own pouch. Then, he needed to figure out this town's financial status and everything else in order to organize a working infrastructure and create new financial opportunities. Afterwards, he could move onto his 'character', if that is indeed what his situation required. There's a lot to do.
Before everything, however, a bath.
After all, he reeked of sweat and alcohol, among other not-so pleasant scents.
...
It took no more than a few minutes for a handful of servants to prepare the bath. Hot water steamed inside the spacious tub as soap bubbles glistened—soap that was far too expensive for the common folk. Despite being a luxury, its quality was arguably trash. Regardless, this was all the people had in this world. A strong scent of lavender permeated the air and tickled his nose as he undressed. A few maids had prepared for his comfort and placed a silken bathrobe alongside a set of towels on a small table near the bathtub before he'd dismissed them, ordering them to inform the kitchen staff that he would like his meal soon.
Ethan relaxed his shoulders, took the robe with one hand, and tossed it carelessly nearby. It was fine silk. Ethan shook his head before proceeding with an easy grace into the water. It was hot. Yet, Ethan felt rather cold, despite the heat. It helped him relax, and with it, the stiff persona that was Lord Theodore faded.
Ethan sank deeper, letting his long blond locks loose. A quick thought made him bring his hand forward. What if... he could make a fire? Just a little one, like a candle flame. How cool would that be? He focused, willing a tiny spark to appear on his fingertip. Nothing. Just a sputter and a fizzle.
"Hmm," he mumbled, undeterred. "Maybe I need to practice."
He doubted it was just understanding. After all, the skill [Elemental Spells] had given him the barest hints of the basics of how to create a basic spark of flame. He lacked control over mana. [Magic Perception] allowed him to view his mana—flowing, fast-moving streams and spiraling, coiling vortexes. It was chaotic; it was a mess! Maybe if he calmed it down, he could actually make something happen?
Easier said than done, he quickly learned. When he moved it, it took no less effort than bending metal with brute force. The feeling was there, and the will, too. Just the act of 'moving' it alone was a herculean effort. It seemed nigh impossible.
Maybe I'm doing it wrong?
Humming, Ethan looked through the snippets of memories he'd gotten from Theodore. The memories, he found, weren't entirely useless; as his mind drifted back and forth from those flashes, he did remember something Theodore had seen last night... There! A memory from last night—a drunk mage at the bar, showing off with a fireball for some girl who didn't seem too impressed.
"Let's see how that trick works," Ethan grinned.
With [Magic Perception], he saw how the spell flowed. The "spell" was, in a way, forced outwards into reality through the use of symbols he quickly recognized as runes—at least that was what he assumed after seeing the fireball.
Ethan could easily recall the shape of the rune that'd appeared before the fire took form on top of the mage's hand.
I'm pretty sure it's not possible to view runes. I assume, at least, from what little fragments of memories I got from Theo. Anyway, let's move my mana in the shape, then.
He imagined the shape on top of his hand and willed the mana to pour into it. Soon, rune motes started forming out of thin air, ripping into reality. Forming into a shape he willed, a rune burned brightly and loudly atop his palm. As he drew his hand forward, flames burst into life, flickering before fizzling out.
[Basic Magic Script] — Lvl 1 -> Lvl 2!
Congratulations! You have gained skill: [Basic Rune Creation]!
"Whoa." Ethan stared at his hand, a wide grin splitting his face. So that's how it works! Runes, huh? That's awesome! Ethan felt like a child again. He couldn't wait to try again, this time with a smaller flame, as it appeared that a fireball was far too much for his lacking skill and control. Magic... it was epic stuff!
Before that, however, he looked at the new skill he'd gained.
~Basic Rune Creation – Level 1~
Type: Active
Effect: You have grasped the fundamental concept of using runes to channel and shape your mana for basic magical effects. The Connection between two of your skill—[Magic Perception] and [Basic Magic Script]—has resulted in the creation of a new skill. You can now create simple runes that allow for the manipulation of elemental energy on a small scale. As your skill level increases, you will be able to create more complex runes, allowing for more powerful and versatile spells. You may also learn to combine runes for even greater magical effects.
Ethan stared. Reading the description was a quick matter of concentration. It took him by surprise, however, when he realized it. Rune creation? Huh. Does that mean I can create anything? The thought alone was exciting. What about rune motes? Rune motes were fragments of runes, combining certain fragments could result in a full rune. I saw them congregating into the shape of a rune, but is it possible to just create rune motes and not a full rune? I should try.
Regardless of his thoughts, it was creation—
—and Ethan loved creation. Even as a child, he had never gotten tired of tinkering with things. He still recalled the time he'd gotten his first Lego set. Just putting random pieces together with no thought for a bigger picture—he'd loved that. He'd loved doing all sorts of stuff with Legos, creating different castles or other complex structures, but it was building something completely random and ridiculous, yet unique nonetheless, which gave him the most sense of satisfaction. It was fun. It was a hobby—a hobby that ignited in him a fire of passion for innovation.
It was then the thought of being a civil engineer had sprung up in his mind. To put it simply, a civil engineer is responsible for planning, designing, and constructing buildings. Though, that was just a general term. Ethan would have been perfectly happy had he chosen that. Unfortunately, his father had wanted him to become a boxer, instead.
The man wanted to become one himself in his prime, but due to health issues, he'd quit right before making it to a big league. He'd hoped his son would achieve what he couldn't and bring victory for the family. Even though Ethan hadn't exactly planned boxing as his future, but who could refuse the pressure his old man put on him? Especially when he'd been just a little boy?
It was another matter entirely that Ethan fell in love with boxing, too, as it made him feel alive. The sensation of a punching bag slamming against his fists? Nothing quite made his blood boil like that.
And oh, fighting in the ring. There was just something about the sport Ethan couldn't resist.
Something about creation, fighting, and experiencing a bit of both, had Ethan wishing he could try the other options that lay in front of him now.
Could he make a real spaceship, in this world?
It sounded silly as fuck and he knew it. Nonetheless, the temptation was still there, hovering and nagging at the edge of his mind, as ridiculous as his previous thoughts might have been.
Spaceships are cool, dammit.
That thought suddenly gave Ethan pause. "Let's just return to practice."
This time, fire flickered atop his fingertips for a second longer.
Another second was added on top of that after his third try.
The light was dim. However, it did mean something: improvement.
[Elemental Spells] — Lvl 1 -> Lvl 2!
Grinning like an idiot, Ethan sank deeper into the hot bath water and brought his other hand up to repeat the exercise for the next half an hour or so, occasionally reading a notification that would come every now and then.
[Elemental Spells] — Lvl 2 -> Lvl 3!
[Elemental Spells] — Lvl 3 -> Lvl 4!
[Elemental Spells] — Lvl 4 -> Lvl 5!
But no matter what, he couldn't get it to level up to level 6, nor could he level up [Basic Magic Script] from level 2 to 3.
Why not, though? I'm doing—
"Don't rush," he chided himself. "Your control is pitiful, shaping is trash, and your spellcasting is akin to tossing stones into the sea without even knowing how to make it bounce—guesswork is all you are, but it's a good start, I suppose."
As he set a handful of candle-like flames afloat on all five of his fingers, his lips quirked into a wide smirk. It was only a party trick. For now, that is. I need to find more about magic and learn. I've been winging it.
That was true; he didn't understand anything about magic. All he'd done so far was try to emulate the rune he'd seen in the memory snippet through the help of [Magic Perception] and cast a few party tricks. Was that impressive? He had literally no comparison to base off of, thus why he knew he needed to learn more.
Theodore's memories proved to be useless in this regard, too. His father hadn't found him worthy enough to be assigned a mage as a tutor. Theodore was a disappointment through and through, and that's why he'd been sent to rule the bordertowns.
He could cast the spell, yes, but he didn't understand the underlying concepts that fueled the magic or what the process was.
-3-
Ethan descended down the stairs that would lead him to the dining room where breakfast had already been laid out for him. Two maids were present as well. It was a feast of the likes he'd only ever read in fairy tales. Fried, scrambled, boiled eggs. Different shapes, sizes, and cuts. Cakes and pies in varying quantities and sizes. Grilled meat, smoked and salted. How could he ever eat everything alone?
Ethan exhaled and then dove in; however, he still maintained decorum as it was imperative to do so given that he was a noble now. Regardless, once done, he made it to the meeting room given that he had some people to meet today.
"Barely breaking even," Ethan muttered, flicking the parchment in his hand. He frowned at the financial situation of Holden, the town he was in charge of. The bordertowns consisted of a series of towns lying on the periphery of the borders. Each town was a barony in name, and nobles—especially troublesome nobles—were often sent here to practice ruling and to make them accustomed to how the common folk lived, so they could empathize with the people they ruled.
With how many bandits the region had had lately, the Blight, debt, tax, and interest that'd ramped up, Ethan's current situation was mind-fucking at best and a keg waiting to explode at worst.
I don't want to deal with Theo's issues.
Not only was this whole situation something Ethan did not want in the slightest, a whole can of worms that were Theo's problems was thrust into his hands. Ethan had held no fantasies of getting isekai'd. That was suicide in his books. He'd have been more than happy to die and meet oblivion. But now that he was here…
Leaning back into his chair, Ethan rubbed his eyes. Yeah, he needed to deal with everything and make the best of his situation to live a comfortable life. When Roland returned with a man in tow, Ethan hummed.
The man was young, younger than Roland, even. Black hair and sharp green eyes. He held himself high with confidence and Ethan recognized him instantly. Isn't he that mage from the bar?
"My lord," Roland bowed. "I have brought a [Necromancer] as per your command."
The [Necromancer] bowed and with a thin smile said, "Pleased to be at your service, my lord. The name's Jack."
Hm. So he wasn't a mage but a [Necromancer].
"Likewise," Ethan replied with a nod, then leaned forward, smiling. "Say, Jack, would you like to be part of a business opportunity?
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2024.05.21 05:19 Score_Useful A Tragedy of Errors: a hot mess Dark Urge story
TL;DR
This is a summary of the wildest playthrough I’ve ever done in my attempt to collect all of the Dark Urge endings and see lots of unique story elements.I set out to create a whimsical idiot who stupid-ed her way through major plot points so that I could see unexpected outcomes. I did not expect to experience the gut-wrenching, Shakespearean tragedy that this story became.
This post is quite long. I wanted to share it with this community because the experience genuinely left me speechless and I thought you might appreciate it. What Larian has created with this game is beyond next level. Contains MASSIVE SPOILERS, you’ve been warned.
—
I am on a personal quest to collect all of the possible endings for Dark Urge. I wanted to do this in a way that was meaningful and honest to the character I created. I love the role playing aspect of this game, I was super into LARPing as a kid and have been known to play DnD on occasion as an adult. I completed the game 3 times prior to this run: good guy Tav (saved the world, got the nice party etc), once as full on psycho Dark Urge who destroyed the world for Daddy, and once as Full Redemption Dark Urge who fully rejected Bhaal at every turn and also saved the world. So at this point, I know most of the possible storylines and plot points.
I really wanted to get the very bad ending I had heard about: the one where Dark Urge accepts Bhaal but decides to save the world and ends up going crazy. So I set out to figure out what a character would look like whose fate would naturally lead them to this path. I also wanted to see some of the more niche story elements that I had not yet experienced. I metagamed this a bit (I don’t know if it’s possible not to once you’ve played for like 800 hours) and worked backwards from the major plot points that I wanted to see to settle on my character’s personality.
Meet: Ceres
Asmodeus Tiefling. Storm Sorcerer. All around hot mess.One of her first great ideas: watching a monster be born because it looked cool.
Her key personality traits:
- Confused as all hells but trying her best to make good decisions
- Fear motivated
- Foolish (some might say just plain stupid)
- People pleasing
- Indecisive
- Generally just a hot mess
- Has a nasty habit of overestimating her own abilities and cleverness (high Cha, low Int and Wis will do that to you)
—
Below follows the major defining events that happened in each act for her, and the tragic conclusion to what I initially thought might be a silly romp of a stupid character. Some of this I metagamed, but much of it happened organically.
Note: I played on Tactician as I normally do, so some of the encounters I had the freedom to redo to get an outcome I wanted. This being said, I rolled with mistakes and events almost all the time. The only encounter I ended up reloading several times was Orin… jeez that fight is a bitch when you are squishy.
—
Act 1
Ceres saved the goblin Sazza and let her escape, only to realize that she would then bring word of the location of the grove where her people were camped to a pack of vicious goblins. Off to a great start.She killed Karlach because she fully believed Wyll and the “Paladins of Tyr” that Karlach was a monster. Then she instantly regretted it because she killed one of her own people. Her and Wyll talked about this and both felt terrible. She agreed whole heartedly to help Wyll rescue his father to make up for this.
Ceres stole the idol of Sylvanus while the druids were chanting, because she thought that her and Astarion were clever enough to do it without getting caught and she loved the kiddos who had put her up to the task. She ended up starting a huge battle by accident where many of her people were killed.
When she got to the goblin camp, she spoke to Sazza who told Minthara where the grove was. Terrified to blow her cover and get killed while surrounded by enemies, she agreed to help Minthara. Once Minthara left, she freed Halsin and he helped her kill Dror Ragzlin. So at least that was one problem solved.
She helped Zevlor defend the grove, but it was a close call. The afterparty was… subdued. Zevlor even commented on how so few of his people still remained. No Druids were left, save Halsin.
Ceres then tried to redeem her cowardly blunders by rescuing some Gnomes in the Underdark and helping out the Myconids as best she could. But her idiocy once again got a lost Dwarf killed when the mushrooms exploded around him.
After allowing Lae’zel, her most trusted companion, to enter the Zaithisk, she saw the vision of the legions of Githyanki being consumed by Vlakkith. Terrified of this vision and of the Gith in general, she offered the prism willingly to the inquisitor when asked. Upon entering the prism, she knew she couldn’t do what the goddess had demanded. She trusted and respected her dream guardian. She ended up having to kill the Githyanki leader she had tried to trust.
She then went after the legendary "Blood" she had heard about, but ended up blowing up an entire building full of people in the process. Lae’zel was incredibly mad at her. Thankfully, she heard the wisdom of Voss when he came to her camp, and trusted Lae’zel to choose what to do with the new information about Vlakkith and Orpheus. She agreed to help Lae’zel however she could. She owed her that much.
Act 2
Gale professed his love to her and they spent a magical night together. But he said he loved her immediately and it really scared her. It was too much too soon, and she told him as much. He sulked and was upset with her for the rest of their time together. She didn’t know it at the time, but she threw away her best shot at a nice supportive partner.Instead of the hopeless romantic Wizard she could have loved, she fell for the broken shell of a man that is Astarion. She believed she could be happy with him, even though she didn’t fully understand their relationship and neither did he.
Ceres reached the Nightsong, but was truly terrified of Balthazar. She figured that maybe her best chance of getting to meet the Absolute and figure out what the hells was going on was to fulfill her promise to Z’rell and send the Nightsong to Ketheric Thorm. He seemed to know her from before, and figured that maybe getting close to him was the best way to solve the mystery of her past and of the tadpoles. In doing this, she lost one of her best friends. Shadowheart left in anger, never to be seen again. Needless to say, her plan was a very bad one.
She refused to kill Isobel or kidnap her per Z’rell’s direction, as she knew this would doom many good people. As punishment, Ketheric sent her to Balthazar’s necrotic laboratory where she had to fight her way out of some evil wombs that silenced her magic.
Live Ceres reaction: her plan is not going well... again.
She found Mizora stuck in a pod and attempted to free her to help her friend Wyll. But as she was very unobservant and failed to read either of the buttons, she pressed the wrong one and killed Mizora instead of freeing her. Wyll ended up as a pile of ash back at the camp. Her crew was quickly dwindling.
Somehow through all of this, she managed to defeat Thorm, spare all of the Harpers from dying, and lift the Shadow Curse. She sought the forgiveness of Dame Aylin for what she had done, and received it. Isobel was reunited with her love and Ceres was relieved to see that some good had come from the mess she had made.
The following night, Astarion had to tie her up while she went crazy trying to kill him. He was kind and expressed empathy. She thought maybe there was hope for her after all. At this point she was wildly in love with him but was scared that her feelings and her messed up brain had put him in so much danger.
Act 3
She finally discovered who she was and was beyond terrified to be the daughter of an evil god. She sought the council of everyone at camp. Jaheira and Astarion were very supportive and told her she would be ok if she stayed strong… something she did not excel at in the slightest. Astarion told her that “the life of a mind-addled slave is worse than death”. This ended up being the most hypocritical thing he ever said to her.She fell a little in love with Halsin, and was surprised and a bit excited that Astarion was ok with it. She still felt a little weird about being in an open relationship but felt encouraged by the possibilities for a time. They both made her happy for different reasons, and she enjoyed fighting by his side. Her final team was Astarion, Halsin, and Lae’zel.
Via the encouragement of her most trusted advisor Lae’zel, Ceres signed the deal with Raphael. She failed at lying to the Emperor, who was very mad at her for what she had done.
Gale expressed to her that he wanted the Crown of Karsus. After much debate, she was convinced by his arguments that he could do better than Karsus and could reforge it. She felt terrible for having broken his heart before and so encouraged him to go after his dreams. After all, she had encouraged Lae to stand up to Vlakkith, so Gale should stand up to Mystra too, right?
When they were ready, it came time to face her partner’s oppressor. After defeating him, Astarion insisted that taking his place and taking the power was the right thing to do. So she helped him. They were both driven constantly by fear, and she empathized deeply with his desire to be rid of that fear. It was the second biggest mistake of her life. (FYI - I metagamed this part. I knew full well what I was getting into here, I've done both paths of his romance before. It was a key part of her story.)
She didn’t want to be made into a vampire spawn. But at the insistence of someone she truly believed she loved, she went along with it. He became controlling and abusive. But she figured that after all the wrongs she had done and all the people she had gotten killed, she probably deserved this life.
This was confirmed to her when she submitted to the Mapping of the Heart in a place called the House of Grief. The priestess there told her she had a wayward heart, and explained that this meant she was incapable of allowing herself to feel happy. She then discovered that the priestess was a Sharran and was actually searching for Shadowheart, who had abandoned Ceres long ago. She told them as much and they tried to kill her. So she had to kill them. She then found two people chained up in a secret room. She couldn't free them.
After confronting her past and killing her sister Orin, she faced a terrifying choice: kill the world for the god that made her, or die. Already used to being treated like a possession by her partner and terrified to die, she agreed to accept Bhaal’s favor. She was distraught when she had to kill the kind and supportive (not to mention living legends) Jaheria and Minsc, and that she roped her other companions into this mess. This was truly the biggest mistake of her life. She was horrified of the monster she had become.
Seeing that she had been party to forcing Halsin into killing so many of his former allies, she broke it off with him. She was ashamed that her actions had put him into such a position, and was afraid of what she might do to him. She believed she did not deserve someone so good.
She accepted from then on that she would be a slave to at least one dark master for the rest of her days. At this point she had completely lost all sense of autonomy: trapped between a controlling partner who had hypocritically turned her into the thing he hated, and the god of murder who gave her the ultimatum that she must kill the world.
In a last ditch attempt to salvage what she could of the mess she had made, she tried to be brave and take down Gortash the tyrant. She attempted to help the Gondians that he had captive but she failed to deactivate a device and the whole Iron Throne was reduced to rubble before she could help them. She felt absolutely horrible that, once again, her foolishness had gotten so many killed.
After defeating Gortash, she spoke to the god Bane himself, who told her she was well on her way to serving him and his goals. The idea that she could be working towards the ends of an additional dark power was too much. She was overwhelmed with the grief of trying and failing to be a good person for so long.
Endgame
Upon reaching Orpheus, Ceres wanted desperately to side with the Emperor, whom she had trusted the whole time. But with an ultimatum from her most trusted friend Lae’zel, she chose to free Orpheus. She felt proud that she had signed the contract with Raphael for a good reason. She upheld her contract, and never entered the House of Hope.After defeating the Netherbrain, she knew there was no way she could act upon what Bhaal had insisted that she do. She could not doom the whole world after she had already doomed so many people before. She wanted, more than anything, to be a good person in spite of all her failures. She allowed Orpheus to destroy the brain, knowing full well she had condemned herself to a terrible fate.
Her friends left her one by one. Lae’zel upon her new red dragon, Gale to find and claim the Crown of Karsus for himself, Vampire Lord Astarion and Halsin to the pub to grab some wine and celebrate. She smiled for the last time.
The last smile of a doomed soul.
She felt the rage of the god she had defied boiling up inside her. But now she was tired. Tired of being controlled, being abused, tired of the blood and death. In a single act of courage she had never before possessed, she ended her own life, rather than become the murderous puppet of her father Bhaal. The last words anyone ever said to her in life were: “What in the hells do you think you’re doing?”
After causing the needless deaths of so many due to ignorance and carelessness, Ceres finally did something good for the world. Her ending was just for her. She had lived her whole remembered life trying to help others get what they wanted and living with the consequences of her foolhardy choices. In the end, she got what she didn’t know she wanted: peace. Floating alone in the void, she met a familiar face. For the first time in her miserable existence, someone named her “hero”.
(Queue massive waterworks from me, I'm tearing up again writing this)
—
In the End
Ceres broke my heart in ways I never expected. It was a beautiful roller coaster of a story that really hit home with me. Ceres unintentionally embodied many of my greatest personal flaws, and it showed me much about the folly of trying to please others. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to create a more compelling character.If you have, for some reason, taken the time to read all of this: Thank you so much. If you have any character stories you'd like to share, please pass them along. I'd love to read them.
And a huge heartfelt THANK YOU to the team at Larian for creating a truly epic masterpiece. I genuinely can’t believe I got this experience from a video game. It is a wonder.
—
PS - because she never even set foot in the House of Hope, Raphael was still alive in the end. He came to find her in the afterlife and deliver a monologue about Gale going after the crown and his plans to rise from the ashes of the divine civil war he was sure Gale would cause. I presume that, in a few hundred years, there will be an epic showdown between Dekarios the Divine and Raphael. And Ceres will watch from the afterlife, calmly, with a smile on her face and no more voices in her head.
2024.05.21 04:51 Blissclaire Names for foster kitties!
I have seven bebes from a BEAUTIFUL calico momma we named Evo. (She was dumped at our plant, and I’m on the Tide Evo project!)
Three boys, two black and white tabbies and an orange and white guy.
Four girls, solid orange, sealpoint, calico (she’s got dots!), and a grey and white baby.
Trying to think of something clever for this group. We’re in louisiana, so Cajun names or punny names, or whatever will work.
Thanks y’all!
submitted by Blissclaire to CatAdvice [link] [comments]
Three boys, two black and white tabbies and an orange and white guy.
Four girls, solid orange, sealpoint, calico (she’s got dots!), and a grey and white baby.
Trying to think of something clever for this group. We’re in louisiana, so Cajun names or punny names, or whatever will work.
Thanks y’all!
2024.05.21 04:50 NamoAmitabha_ Amitabha Recitation, Difficult Delivery and Illnesses
A story on Amitabha recitation told by Dharma Master Shi Hui Jing
Luo Ji Ying is staying in Ling Feng village, the city He Zhou in the Province of Guang Xi, in the mainland of China. She is an illiterate and she does not have any faith in religion.
Five years ago, in the year 2011 her two daughters began to learn the Buddha Dharma.
They told their mother to recite Namo Amitabha Buddha, as she is unable to read Sutras or sitting in meditation as she is quite old, with poor memory.
Most important of all, the recitation of Namo Amitabha Buddha reaps the most supreme merits and virtues.
It is a simple practice to leave transmigration on the six paths, to leave births and deaths, to accomplish Buddhahood swiftly.
That is why they encouraged their mother to recite Namo Amitabha Buddha and mother also believed in this.
She also becomes a volunteer in a nearby temple, Xiu Feng Temple.
In the year 2012 her second daughter was pregnant.
When it was time to deliver her baby at the hospital, she faced the problem of difficult delivery.
What could she do?
An experienced doctor told the family that if the baby was not born within thirty minutes he might die of suffocation.
And it was too late to go for Caesarean.
He said that the only way to save the baby was to deliver him immediately.
Her second daughter was thus thinking,
‘Now the doctor cannot save my child. The only person who can save him is me. I am the mother. But if I can save him, I would have delivered him earlier. Now only Amitabha Buddha can save him.’
She thought about this and decided to keep calm to call on Namo Amitabha Buddha.
While her mother and sister were sitting outside, reciting Namo Amitabha Buddha too.
After a while the baby was born.
Amitabha recitation enables us to deliver our child smoothly, to be freed from a difficult labour.
In Japan, a lady also faced the difficult labour.
But she did not recite Namo Amitabha Buddha.
She was thinking about Amitabha Buddha’s 18th Vow which is thus stated,
‘On my attainment of Buddhahood, living beings in the ten directions who have faith in me sincerely seek to attain a rebirth in my Land with a joyful mind. Even if they can only recite ten times but are unable to attain a rebirth, I will not certify to the Proper Enlightenment. Exceptions are those who have committed the five rebellious acts, who slandered the Proper Dharma.’
How did she explain this, ‘Even if they can only recite ten times but are unable to attain a rebirth, I will not certify to the Proper Enlightenment’?
She explained this way, ‘If Amitabha Buddha does not help me to deliver my child, Amitabha Buddha is not Amitabha Buddha’.
Later the child was smoothly delivered.
So, whatever that we do we should connect it to Namo Amitabha Buddha.
Even though we cannot solve the problem, it will still be solved.
Luo Ji Ying was so happy to have a grandchild.
After a month, the baby was infected with gastritis.
He was sent to hospital, having high fever.
The temperature fluctuated up and down.
The grandmother was very worried.
She felt that the life of her grandson was her life.
What could she do?
She was very worried.
When we have given up all hopes in doctors, in medicines, we will surely look for another way to save this one-month-old baby, who had become very weak.
Most people will go to ask for help from the spiritual medium, am I right?
This is a normal practice among people.
Finally, she managed to find an efficacious psychic medium who can draw the magic figures to rid people of their diseases, to eradicate disaster and calamities.
The medium asked for the date of birth of the baby.
She gave the medium the time of birth, with the date, month and year.
The medium started to count and said, ‘The baby’s mother had recited Sutras and Amitabha Buddha during her pregnancy.’
She answered, ‘Yes, she did recite Sutras and Namo Amitabha Buddha.’
The medium continued to say, ‘You are also an Amitabha reciter!’
‘How do you know that?’
The medium answered, ‘Above your head there is a very huge Buddha! I do not dare to give you any amulet or magic figures!’
‘Why?’
The medium explained, ‘This is the Greatest Buddha. How dare I draw the magic figure to rid the disease? Do not worry. You go back now and your grandson will be fine.’
So, Luo Ji Ying returned home with her mind full of doubts.
She was asking about her grandson.
She did not even mention her practice in Amitabha recitation.
She was sure she did not say anything concerning the Buddha!
How did the medium get to know about the huge Buddha on top of her head?
She was thinking, ‘I recite Namo Amitabha Buddha every day but I do not even know about the Buddha above my head. I cannot even see him. But she is a medium. Surely, she can see this.’
So, she went back and told her daughters about what the medium had sad.
Wah! The whole family started to recite Namo Amitabha Buddha piously.
Besides, they also carried the baby to Xiu Feng Temple to pray to the Buddha.
Not long after that the baby was well enough to return home.
Now he is about four years old.
She said, ‘This child is truly healthy, active, clever and cute. He seldom falls sick. Sometimes, he might fall sick. He will go by himself before the Buddha and make obeisance to the Buddha.’
What does it reveal in this story?
Luo Ji Ying who recites Namo Amitabha Buddha, with Amitabha Buddha standing above her head does not know much about the Pure Land practice.
Can she recite the Amitabha Sutra? The answer is ‘No’.
Besides, there is very little teaching on Amitabha recitation at her place.
That is why when her grandson fell sick, she would still look for help from a spiritual medium.
She does not know the greatest Buddha, the most magnificent Buddha, the Buddha with the mighty ability is standing above her head.
As long as she recites the Name of the Buddha who is standing above her, everything will be ok.
But she has no idea about this.
That is why she will still search around, practising the mixed conduct.
After listening to the medium only then they realize Amitabha Buddha is the most magnificent Buddha, the Buddha with the most merits and virtues.
Once we have decided to recite Namo Amitabha Buddha piously, everything will be fine.
We will reap the benefits.
This is the benefits we will obtain in this Dharma Door.
In the Sutra of Immeasurable Lifespan, and the three Sutras on Pure Land, and the Pure Land teaching in the Shandao lineage, we are told of the benefits.
‘There are inconceivable merits and virtues in Amitabha recitation.
We will reap the immeasurable and limitless merits and virtues when we practise exclusively.
On the contrary, we will not obtain the immeasurable, limitless inconceivable merits and virtues.
If we mixed up our practice, our practice is impure.
With impurities, how can we reap the fruits?’
‘Without planting the cause, there is no fruits.
That is why we should have faith in Amitabha Buddha exclusively.
In our mind, we will have faith in Amitabha Buddha exclusively, thinking about Amitabha Buddha only.
With our mouth we recite Namo Amitabha Buddha exclusively.
That is why Great Master Shandao has said,
‘The World of Ultimate Bliss is the noumena Nirvana Realm.
It is difficult for those who cultivate half-heartedly, mixing with a variety of good acts to seek a rebirth.
That is why the Thus Come One has chosen the most wonderful Dharma for us.
He teaches us to recite Namo Amitabha Buddha exclusively, solely.’
These verses are written on the wall here in the temple.
One exclusiveness is not enough.
He stresses on the great strength and told us to cultivate solely.
This is the sincere advice to us.
We should only recite the Buddha’s Name.
Reciting Namo Amitabha Buddha exclusively enables us to reap such benefits, to attain a rebirth in the World of Ultimate Bliss, to be liberated from the transmigration of birth and death.
Besides the recitation of Amitabha Buddha exclusively, do we have to eat rice?
Must we sleep?
Of course, we must eat, sleep and work.
Similarly, we must be filial to our parents, make offerings and attend to our Masters and Elders, be kind to all living beings.
We must not kill living beings and partake their flesh.
We must be kind to others, forgive others.
On seeing others’ sufferings, we must try our best to help.
As Buddhists, all these good deeds in life should be practised.
Of course, these good deeds are not the factors for us to gain a rebirth in the World of Ultimate Bliss.
The cause of rebirth is reciting Namo Amitabha Buddha.
With the right cause of Amitabha recitation, we will attain a rebirth in the World of Ultimate Bliss.
That is why we are told to recite Namo Amitabha Buddha solely, exclusively.
Namo Amitabha Buddha Link: https://oridharma.wordpress.com/2022/05/31/amitabha-recitation-difficult-delivery-and-illnesses/
submitted by NamoAmitabha_ to PureLand [link] [comments]
Luo Ji Ying is staying in Ling Feng village, the city He Zhou in the Province of Guang Xi, in the mainland of China. She is an illiterate and she does not have any faith in religion.
Five years ago, in the year 2011 her two daughters began to learn the Buddha Dharma.
They told their mother to recite Namo Amitabha Buddha, as she is unable to read Sutras or sitting in meditation as she is quite old, with poor memory.
Most important of all, the recitation of Namo Amitabha Buddha reaps the most supreme merits and virtues.
It is a simple practice to leave transmigration on the six paths, to leave births and deaths, to accomplish Buddhahood swiftly.
That is why they encouraged their mother to recite Namo Amitabha Buddha and mother also believed in this.
She also becomes a volunteer in a nearby temple, Xiu Feng Temple.
In the year 2012 her second daughter was pregnant.
When it was time to deliver her baby at the hospital, she faced the problem of difficult delivery.
What could she do?
An experienced doctor told the family that if the baby was not born within thirty minutes he might die of suffocation.
And it was too late to go for Caesarean.
He said that the only way to save the baby was to deliver him immediately.
Her second daughter was thus thinking,
‘Now the doctor cannot save my child. The only person who can save him is me. I am the mother. But if I can save him, I would have delivered him earlier. Now only Amitabha Buddha can save him.’
She thought about this and decided to keep calm to call on Namo Amitabha Buddha.
While her mother and sister were sitting outside, reciting Namo Amitabha Buddha too.
After a while the baby was born.
Amitabha recitation enables us to deliver our child smoothly, to be freed from a difficult labour.
In Japan, a lady also faced the difficult labour.
But she did not recite Namo Amitabha Buddha.
She was thinking about Amitabha Buddha’s 18th Vow which is thus stated,
‘On my attainment of Buddhahood, living beings in the ten directions who have faith in me sincerely seek to attain a rebirth in my Land with a joyful mind. Even if they can only recite ten times but are unable to attain a rebirth, I will not certify to the Proper Enlightenment. Exceptions are those who have committed the five rebellious acts, who slandered the Proper Dharma.’
How did she explain this, ‘Even if they can only recite ten times but are unable to attain a rebirth, I will not certify to the Proper Enlightenment’?
She explained this way, ‘If Amitabha Buddha does not help me to deliver my child, Amitabha Buddha is not Amitabha Buddha’.
Later the child was smoothly delivered.
So, whatever that we do we should connect it to Namo Amitabha Buddha.
Even though we cannot solve the problem, it will still be solved.
Luo Ji Ying was so happy to have a grandchild.
After a month, the baby was infected with gastritis.
He was sent to hospital, having high fever.
The temperature fluctuated up and down.
The grandmother was very worried.
She felt that the life of her grandson was her life.
What could she do?
She was very worried.
When we have given up all hopes in doctors, in medicines, we will surely look for another way to save this one-month-old baby, who had become very weak.
Most people will go to ask for help from the spiritual medium, am I right?
This is a normal practice among people.
Finally, she managed to find an efficacious psychic medium who can draw the magic figures to rid people of their diseases, to eradicate disaster and calamities.
The medium asked for the date of birth of the baby.
She gave the medium the time of birth, with the date, month and year.
The medium started to count and said, ‘The baby’s mother had recited Sutras and Amitabha Buddha during her pregnancy.’
She answered, ‘Yes, she did recite Sutras and Namo Amitabha Buddha.’
The medium continued to say, ‘You are also an Amitabha reciter!’
‘How do you know that?’
The medium answered, ‘Above your head there is a very huge Buddha! I do not dare to give you any amulet or magic figures!’
‘Why?’
The medium explained, ‘This is the Greatest Buddha. How dare I draw the magic figure to rid the disease? Do not worry. You go back now and your grandson will be fine.’
So, Luo Ji Ying returned home with her mind full of doubts.
She was asking about her grandson.
She did not even mention her practice in Amitabha recitation.
She was sure she did not say anything concerning the Buddha!
How did the medium get to know about the huge Buddha on top of her head?
She was thinking, ‘I recite Namo Amitabha Buddha every day but I do not even know about the Buddha above my head. I cannot even see him. But she is a medium. Surely, she can see this.’
So, she went back and told her daughters about what the medium had sad.
Wah! The whole family started to recite Namo Amitabha Buddha piously.
Besides, they also carried the baby to Xiu Feng Temple to pray to the Buddha.
Not long after that the baby was well enough to return home.
Now he is about four years old.
She said, ‘This child is truly healthy, active, clever and cute. He seldom falls sick. Sometimes, he might fall sick. He will go by himself before the Buddha and make obeisance to the Buddha.’
What does it reveal in this story?
Luo Ji Ying who recites Namo Amitabha Buddha, with Amitabha Buddha standing above her head does not know much about the Pure Land practice.
Can she recite the Amitabha Sutra? The answer is ‘No’.
Besides, there is very little teaching on Amitabha recitation at her place.
That is why when her grandson fell sick, she would still look for help from a spiritual medium.
She does not know the greatest Buddha, the most magnificent Buddha, the Buddha with the mighty ability is standing above her head.
As long as she recites the Name of the Buddha who is standing above her, everything will be ok.
But she has no idea about this.
That is why she will still search around, practising the mixed conduct.
After listening to the medium only then they realize Amitabha Buddha is the most magnificent Buddha, the Buddha with the most merits and virtues.
Once we have decided to recite Namo Amitabha Buddha piously, everything will be fine.
We will reap the benefits.
This is the benefits we will obtain in this Dharma Door.
In the Sutra of Immeasurable Lifespan, and the three Sutras on Pure Land, and the Pure Land teaching in the Shandao lineage, we are told of the benefits.
‘There are inconceivable merits and virtues in Amitabha recitation.
We will reap the immeasurable and limitless merits and virtues when we practise exclusively.
On the contrary, we will not obtain the immeasurable, limitless inconceivable merits and virtues.
If we mixed up our practice, our practice is impure.
With impurities, how can we reap the fruits?’
‘Without planting the cause, there is no fruits.
That is why we should have faith in Amitabha Buddha exclusively.
In our mind, we will have faith in Amitabha Buddha exclusively, thinking about Amitabha Buddha only.
With our mouth we recite Namo Amitabha Buddha exclusively.
That is why Great Master Shandao has said,
‘The World of Ultimate Bliss is the noumena Nirvana Realm.
It is difficult for those who cultivate half-heartedly, mixing with a variety of good acts to seek a rebirth.
That is why the Thus Come One has chosen the most wonderful Dharma for us.
He teaches us to recite Namo Amitabha Buddha exclusively, solely.’
These verses are written on the wall here in the temple.
One exclusiveness is not enough.
He stresses on the great strength and told us to cultivate solely.
This is the sincere advice to us.
We should only recite the Buddha’s Name.
Reciting Namo Amitabha Buddha exclusively enables us to reap such benefits, to attain a rebirth in the World of Ultimate Bliss, to be liberated from the transmigration of birth and death.
Besides the recitation of Amitabha Buddha exclusively, do we have to eat rice?
Must we sleep?
Of course, we must eat, sleep and work.
Similarly, we must be filial to our parents, make offerings and attend to our Masters and Elders, be kind to all living beings.
We must not kill living beings and partake their flesh.
We must be kind to others, forgive others.
On seeing others’ sufferings, we must try our best to help.
As Buddhists, all these good deeds in life should be practised.
Of course, these good deeds are not the factors for us to gain a rebirth in the World of Ultimate Bliss.
The cause of rebirth is reciting Namo Amitabha Buddha.
With the right cause of Amitabha recitation, we will attain a rebirth in the World of Ultimate Bliss.
That is why we are told to recite Namo Amitabha Buddha solely, exclusively.
Namo Amitabha Buddha Link: https://oridharma.wordpress.com/2022/05/31/amitabha-recitation-difficult-delivery-and-illnesses/
2024.05.21 04:44 NamoAmitabha_ Amitabha Recitation, Difficult Delivery and Illnesses
A story on Amitabha recitation told by Dharma Master Shi Hui Jing
Luo Ji Ying is staying in Ling Feng village, the city He Zhou in the Province of Guang Xi, in the mainland of China. She is an illiterate and she does not have any faith in religion.
Five years ago, in the year 2011 her two daughters began to learn the Buddha Dharma.
They told their mother to recite Namo Amitabha Buddha, as she is unable to read Sutras or sitting in meditation as she is quite old, with poor memory.
Most important of all, the recitation of Namo Amitabha Buddha reaps the most supreme merits and virtues.
It is a simple practice to leave transmigration on the six paths, to leave births and deaths, to accomplish Buddhahood swiftly.
That is why they encouraged their mother to recite Namo Amitabha Buddha and mother also believed in this.
She also becomes a volunteer in a nearby temple, Xiu Feng Temple.
In the year 2012 her second daughter was pregnant.
When it was time to deliver her baby at the hospital, she faced the problem of difficult delivery.
What could she do?
An experienced doctor told the family that if the baby was not born within thirty minutes he might die of suffocation.
And it was too late to go for Caesarean.
He said that the only way to save the baby was to deliver him immediately.
Her second daughter was thus thinking,
‘Now the doctor cannot save my child. The only person who can save him is me. I am the mother. But if I can save him, I would have delivered him earlier. Now only Amitabha Buddha can save him.’
She thought about this and decided to keep calm to call on Namo Amitabha Buddha.
While her mother and sister were sitting outside, reciting Namo Amitabha Buddha too.
After a while the baby was born.
Amitabha recitation enables us to deliver our child smoothly, to be freed from a difficult labour.
In Japan, a lady also faced the difficult labour.
But she did not recite Namo Amitabha Buddha.
She was thinking about Amitabha Buddha’s 18th Vow which is thus stated,
‘On my attainment of Buddhahood, living beings in the ten directions who have faith in me sincerely seek to attain a rebirth in my Land with a joyful mind. Even if they can only recite ten times but are unable to attain a rebirth, I will not certify to the Proper Enlightenment. Exceptions are those who have committed the five rebellious acts, who slandered the Proper Dharma.’
How did she explain this, ‘Even if they can only recite ten times but are unable to attain a rebirth, I will not certify to the Proper Enlightenment’?
She explained this way, ‘If Amitabha Buddha does not help me to deliver my child, Amitabha Buddha is not Amitabha Buddha’.
Later the child was smoothly delivered.
So, whatever that we do we should connect it to Namo Amitabha Buddha.
Even though we cannot solve the problem, it will still be solved.
Luo Ji Ying was so happy to have a grandchild.
After a month, the baby was infected with gastritis.
He was sent to hospital, having high fever.
The temperature fluctuated up and down.
The grandmother was very worried.
She felt that the life of her grandson was her life.
What could she do?
She was very worried.
When we have given up all hopes in doctors, in medicines, we will surely look for another way to save this one-month-old baby, who had become very weak.
Most people will go to ask for help from the spiritual medium, am I right?
This is a normal practice among people.
Finally, she managed to find an efficacious psychic medium who can draw the magic figures to rid people of their diseases, to eradicate disaster and calamities.
The medium asked for the date of birth of the baby.
She gave the medium the time of birth, with the date, month and year.
The medium started to count and said, ‘The baby’s mother had recited Sutras and Amitabha Buddha during her pregnancy.’
She answered, ‘Yes, she did recite Sutras and Namo Amitabha Buddha.’
The medium continued to say, ‘You are also an Amitabha reciter!’
‘How do you know that?’
The medium answered, ‘Above your head there is a very huge Buddha! I do not dare to give you any amulet or magic figures!’
‘Why?’
The medium explained, ‘This is the Greatest Buddha. How dare I draw the magic figure to rid the disease? Do not worry. You go back now and your grandson will be fine.’
So, Luo Ji Ying returned home with her mind full of doubts.
She was asking about her grandson.
She did not even mention her practice in Amitabha recitation.
She was sure she did not say anything concerning the Buddha!
How did the medium get to know about the huge Buddha on top of her head?
She was thinking, ‘I recite Namo Amitabha Buddha every day but I do not even know about the Buddha above my head. I cannot even see him. But she is a medium. Surely, she can see this.’
So, she went back and told her daughters about what the medium had sad.
Wah! The whole family started to recite Namo Amitabha Buddha piously.
Besides, they also carried the baby to Xiu Feng Temple to pray to the Buddha.
Not long after that the baby was well enough to return home.
Now he is about four years old.
She said, ‘This child is truly healthy, active, clever and cute. He seldom falls sick. Sometimes, he might fall sick. He will go by himself before the Buddha and make obeisance to the Buddha.’
What does it reveal in this story?
Luo Ji Ying who recites Namo Amitabha Buddha, with Amitabha Buddha standing above her head does not know much about the Pure Land practice.
Can she recite the Amitabha Sutra? The answer is ‘No’.
Besides, there is very little teaching on Amitabha recitation at her place.
That is why when her grandson fell sick, she would still look for help from a spiritual medium.
She does not know the greatest Buddha, the most magnificent Buddha, the Buddha with the mighty ability is standing above her head.
As long as she recites the Name of the Buddha who is standing above her, everything will be ok.
But she has no idea about this.
That is why she will still search around, practising the mixed conduct.
After listening to the medium only then they realize Amitabha Buddha is the most magnificent Buddha, the Buddha with the most merits and virtues.
Once we have decided to recite Namo Amitabha Buddha piously, everything will be fine.
We will reap the benefits.
This is the benefits we will obtain in this Dharma Door.
In the Sutra of Immeasurable Lifespan, and the three Sutras on Pure Land, and the Pure Land teaching in the Shandao lineage, we are told of the benefits.
‘There are inconceivable merits and virtues in Amitabha recitation.
We will reap the immeasurable and limitless merits and virtues when we practise exclusively.
On the contrary, we will not obtain the immeasurable, limitless inconceivable merits and virtues.
If we mixed up our practice, our practice is impure.
With impurities, how can we reap the fruits?’
‘Without planting the cause, there is no fruits.
That is why we should have faith in Amitabha Buddha exclusively.
In our mind, we will have faith in Amitabha Buddha exclusively, thinking about Amitabha Buddha only.
With our mouth we recite Namo Amitabha Buddha exclusively.
That is why Great Master Shandao has said,
‘The World of Ultimate Bliss is the noumena Nirvana Realm.
It is difficult for those who cultivate half-heartedly, mixing with a variety of good acts to seek a rebirth.
That is why the Thus Come One has chosen the most wonderful Dharma for us.
He teaches us to recite Namo Amitabha Buddha exclusively, solely.’
These verses are written on the wall here in the temple.
One exclusiveness is not enough.
He stresses on the great strength and told us to cultivate solely.
This is the sincere advice to us.
We should only recite the Buddha’s Name.
Reciting Namo Amitabha Buddha exclusively enables us to reap such benefits, to attain a rebirth in the World of Ultimate Bliss, to be liberated from the transmigration of birth and death.
Besides the recitation of Amitabha Buddha exclusively, do we have to eat rice?
Must we sleep?
Of course, we must eat, sleep and work.
Similarly, we must be filial to our parents, make offerings and attend to our Masters and Elders, be kind to all living beings.
We must not kill living beings and partake their flesh.
We must be kind to others, forgive others.
On seeing others’ sufferings, we must try our best to help.
As Buddhists, all these good deeds in life should be practised.
Of course, these good deeds are not the factors for us to gain a rebirth in the World of Ultimate Bliss.
The cause of rebirth is reciting Namo Amitabha Buddha.
With the right cause of Amitabha recitation, we will attain a rebirth in the World of Ultimate Bliss.
That is why we are told to recite Namo Amitabha Buddha solely, exclusively.
Namo Amitabha Buddha Link: https://oridharma.wordpress.com/2022/05/31/amitabha-recitation-difficult-delivery-and-illnesses/
submitted by NamoAmitabha_ to Buddhism [link] [comments]
Luo Ji Ying is staying in Ling Feng village, the city He Zhou in the Province of Guang Xi, in the mainland of China. She is an illiterate and she does not have any faith in religion.
Five years ago, in the year 2011 her two daughters began to learn the Buddha Dharma.
They told their mother to recite Namo Amitabha Buddha, as she is unable to read Sutras or sitting in meditation as she is quite old, with poor memory.
Most important of all, the recitation of Namo Amitabha Buddha reaps the most supreme merits and virtues.
It is a simple practice to leave transmigration on the six paths, to leave births and deaths, to accomplish Buddhahood swiftly.
That is why they encouraged their mother to recite Namo Amitabha Buddha and mother also believed in this.
She also becomes a volunteer in a nearby temple, Xiu Feng Temple.
In the year 2012 her second daughter was pregnant.
When it was time to deliver her baby at the hospital, she faced the problem of difficult delivery.
What could she do?
An experienced doctor told the family that if the baby was not born within thirty minutes he might die of suffocation.
And it was too late to go for Caesarean.
He said that the only way to save the baby was to deliver him immediately.
Her second daughter was thus thinking,
‘Now the doctor cannot save my child. The only person who can save him is me. I am the mother. But if I can save him, I would have delivered him earlier. Now only Amitabha Buddha can save him.’
She thought about this and decided to keep calm to call on Namo Amitabha Buddha.
While her mother and sister were sitting outside, reciting Namo Amitabha Buddha too.
After a while the baby was born.
Amitabha recitation enables us to deliver our child smoothly, to be freed from a difficult labour.
In Japan, a lady also faced the difficult labour.
But she did not recite Namo Amitabha Buddha.
She was thinking about Amitabha Buddha’s 18th Vow which is thus stated,
‘On my attainment of Buddhahood, living beings in the ten directions who have faith in me sincerely seek to attain a rebirth in my Land with a joyful mind. Even if they can only recite ten times but are unable to attain a rebirth, I will not certify to the Proper Enlightenment. Exceptions are those who have committed the five rebellious acts, who slandered the Proper Dharma.’
How did she explain this, ‘Even if they can only recite ten times but are unable to attain a rebirth, I will not certify to the Proper Enlightenment’?
She explained this way, ‘If Amitabha Buddha does not help me to deliver my child, Amitabha Buddha is not Amitabha Buddha’.
Later the child was smoothly delivered.
So, whatever that we do we should connect it to Namo Amitabha Buddha.
Even though we cannot solve the problem, it will still be solved.
Luo Ji Ying was so happy to have a grandchild.
After a month, the baby was infected with gastritis.
He was sent to hospital, having high fever.
The temperature fluctuated up and down.
The grandmother was very worried.
She felt that the life of her grandson was her life.
What could she do?
She was very worried.
When we have given up all hopes in doctors, in medicines, we will surely look for another way to save this one-month-old baby, who had become very weak.
Most people will go to ask for help from the spiritual medium, am I right?
This is a normal practice among people.
Finally, she managed to find an efficacious psychic medium who can draw the magic figures to rid people of their diseases, to eradicate disaster and calamities.
The medium asked for the date of birth of the baby.
She gave the medium the time of birth, with the date, month and year.
The medium started to count and said, ‘The baby’s mother had recited Sutras and Amitabha Buddha during her pregnancy.’
She answered, ‘Yes, she did recite Sutras and Namo Amitabha Buddha.’
The medium continued to say, ‘You are also an Amitabha reciter!’
‘How do you know that?’
The medium answered, ‘Above your head there is a very huge Buddha! I do not dare to give you any amulet or magic figures!’
‘Why?’
The medium explained, ‘This is the Greatest Buddha. How dare I draw the magic figure to rid the disease? Do not worry. You go back now and your grandson will be fine.’
So, Luo Ji Ying returned home with her mind full of doubts.
She was asking about her grandson.
She did not even mention her practice in Amitabha recitation.
She was sure she did not say anything concerning the Buddha!
How did the medium get to know about the huge Buddha on top of her head?
She was thinking, ‘I recite Namo Amitabha Buddha every day but I do not even know about the Buddha above my head. I cannot even see him. But she is a medium. Surely, she can see this.’
So, she went back and told her daughters about what the medium had sad.
Wah! The whole family started to recite Namo Amitabha Buddha piously.
Besides, they also carried the baby to Xiu Feng Temple to pray to the Buddha.
Not long after that the baby was well enough to return home.
Now he is about four years old.
She said, ‘This child is truly healthy, active, clever and cute. He seldom falls sick. Sometimes, he might fall sick. He will go by himself before the Buddha and make obeisance to the Buddha.’
What does it reveal in this story?
Luo Ji Ying who recites Namo Amitabha Buddha, with Amitabha Buddha standing above her head does not know much about the Pure Land practice.
Can she recite the Amitabha Sutra? The answer is ‘No’.
Besides, there is very little teaching on Amitabha recitation at her place.
That is why when her grandson fell sick, she would still look for help from a spiritual medium.
She does not know the greatest Buddha, the most magnificent Buddha, the Buddha with the mighty ability is standing above her head.
As long as she recites the Name of the Buddha who is standing above her, everything will be ok.
But she has no idea about this.
That is why she will still search around, practising the mixed conduct.
After listening to the medium only then they realize Amitabha Buddha is the most magnificent Buddha, the Buddha with the most merits and virtues.
Once we have decided to recite Namo Amitabha Buddha piously, everything will be fine.
We will reap the benefits.
This is the benefits we will obtain in this Dharma Door.
In the Sutra of Immeasurable Lifespan, and the three Sutras on Pure Land, and the Pure Land teaching in the Shandao lineage, we are told of the benefits.
‘There are inconceivable merits and virtues in Amitabha recitation.
We will reap the immeasurable and limitless merits and virtues when we practise exclusively.
On the contrary, we will not obtain the immeasurable, limitless inconceivable merits and virtues.
If we mixed up our practice, our practice is impure.
With impurities, how can we reap the fruits?’
‘Without planting the cause, there is no fruits.
That is why we should have faith in Amitabha Buddha exclusively.
In our mind, we will have faith in Amitabha Buddha exclusively, thinking about Amitabha Buddha only.
With our mouth we recite Namo Amitabha Buddha exclusively.
That is why Great Master Shandao has said,
‘The World of Ultimate Bliss is the noumena Nirvana Realm.
It is difficult for those who cultivate half-heartedly, mixing with a variety of good acts to seek a rebirth.
That is why the Thus Come One has chosen the most wonderful Dharma for us.
He teaches us to recite Namo Amitabha Buddha exclusively, solely.’
These verses are written on the wall here in the temple.
One exclusiveness is not enough.
He stresses on the great strength and told us to cultivate solely.
This is the sincere advice to us.
We should only recite the Buddha’s Name.
Reciting Namo Amitabha Buddha exclusively enables us to reap such benefits, to attain a rebirth in the World of Ultimate Bliss, to be liberated from the transmigration of birth and death.
Besides the recitation of Amitabha Buddha exclusively, do we have to eat rice?
Must we sleep?
Of course, we must eat, sleep and work.
Similarly, we must be filial to our parents, make offerings and attend to our Masters and Elders, be kind to all living beings.
We must not kill living beings and partake their flesh.
We must be kind to others, forgive others.
On seeing others’ sufferings, we must try our best to help.
As Buddhists, all these good deeds in life should be practised.
Of course, these good deeds are not the factors for us to gain a rebirth in the World of Ultimate Bliss.
The cause of rebirth is reciting Namo Amitabha Buddha.
With the right cause of Amitabha recitation, we will attain a rebirth in the World of Ultimate Bliss.
That is why we are told to recite Namo Amitabha Buddha solely, exclusively.
Namo Amitabha Buddha Link: https://oridharma.wordpress.com/2022/05/31/amitabha-recitation-difficult-delivery-and-illnesses/
2024.05.21 03:36 dlschindler Black Tie Mandroid
Man versus machine, it's sort of a paradox, in a way. Men are better than machines, obviously, and that should just be the natural order. It's not always so simple, however. After all, for better or worse, a machine will always be a tool. And men define themselves by what they prevail over, requiring such tools to see themselves how they really are.
Reggi was my college sweetheart. We had a real-life campus rom com relationship. I was young and I made a mistake, thinking we should part, as I longed for some horizon I can't even remember thinking I wanted. So, I told her I wasn't ready for a career, family, house payments and marriage. Those were my words. Reggi just shrugged and asked me when would I be ready, and I really thought I was being honest and told her I wasn't ever going to be.
Her aunt is the owner of that adult toy company for women, the one called Machine V Man, affectionately with the logo MVM in a crafty design. She made it all up, when she realized early on she wanted to be an inventor, a toymaker. The one she had was already better than any man, and her rags to riches, entrepreneur backstory made her the spokeswoman of her own product, her satisfied smug smile on billboards everywhere. She doesn't need a man, she's happier than you, and she's rich. That's Reggi's aunt.
When I arrived at Reggi's spring break at her aunt's begging her to take me back, after quickly realizing I hated the prospect of a life without her, I was met by Aunt Foezoe's insane mechanical monstrosity. "I can't let you in. I'll be in trouble, but I can tell Reggi to come here, and then you'll have a chance to speak to her. Cool?"
"Are you trying to chad me?" I asked the Black Tie Mandroid. I suddenly realized this was no ordinary robot. Most Mandroids are only good at playing boyfriend, but this one was different, a more expensive class, a Black Tie, and this particular one was some kind of prototype. The most sophisticated one of them all, Aunt Foezoe's personal toy.
"There's no reason we can't get along, bro." The Black Tie said. Its face and movements and flesh looked almost completely real. If I didn't know it was a machine, I wouldn't know it was a machine. There are people who couldn't tell this one from a real person, this one was different.
"My name's not bro." I shook my head. "Just tell her to come here."
"I know your name. I wasn't going to tell her you're waiting, she might not come see you. She doesn't want to see you. I'm going to get in trouble. What's the problem?" The Black Tie spoke with some inflections, having thought about the situation and followed his rules. I was thinking of it as a him, at that point. It was hard not to.
"Why are you helping me?" I asked him.
"My name is Kbar. I can decide to emulate any social behavior my mistress has approved of. This is romantic intrigue, so long as you don't pose a threat to Reggi. If you do, I am licensed as a home defense system and I will use force to detain you, and I will injure you to ensure you cannot escape until you are arrested. Just so you know, bro." Kbar smiled coldly at me, his eyes so steady they sent a chill down my spine.
"I just want to see her. I'm cool." I told Kbar.
"I know." Kbar said with confidence. "But I just want to be clear. I'm in charge here, bro, so don't step out of line."
"I see." I said, nodding. The machine walked back to the house, leaving me there at the gate.
Reggi saw me there and walked to meet me, opening the gate and letting me in. We strolled the gardens of the estate, and I apologized and begged and I even cried when she ripped my heart out.
"I don't love you like that anymore. I just, I think I just want my own special destiny out there, with lots of different adventures. Not just with you, I think I will be single. I'm good." Reggi said. She hadn't said anything else.
"That's it?" I didn't want to go, I couldn't believe it.
"I hate seeing you like this. Could you just go?" Reggi pointed at the gate.
"Not until you tell me what we had was important to you, you loved me, what happened?" I was upset. Reggi just shook her head at me and started walking away. I tried to follow her, but Kbar had his hand on my shoulder from out of thin air.
"Time for you to go." Kbar escorted me to the gate, firmly holding my bicep in his vicelike grip. I wondered just how strong this thing might be, and realized I didn't want to find out.
"So much for bros." I said to Kbar as he roughly shoved me out the gate.
"You're not welcome here anymore. Come back and next time I won't be so friendly." Kbar stared me down. I flinched, looking away.
"You suck." I told the robot.
"Very mature. I can see why she found you amusing while she was in college. She's a grown woman now, and she needs a real man. I know one who never gives up. They say 'Mandroids never quit' if you catch my meaning." Kbar smiled, and his smile looked genuinely arrogant. I hated it.
I left, but I decided that I wasn't going to give up either, wasn't going to quit. The dawn of a tool that couldn't give up was challenging something in me that insisted I could do better. I could beat that thing, somehow.
My three friends found me inconsolable, and promised they would each lend their special talent to help me win back Reggi.
My first friend came to my home late that night with the technical readings of not only the Black Tie, but specifically Kbar. He pointed out where Kbar's vital spots were in his body. He essentially had a weak spot right where his heart should be. Good to know, but the command codes for him weren't going to help me, since he wouldn't recognize me as a commander.
There was one behavioral note I found interesting.
"Those are all of his factory choreographs. He learns the rest in the bedroom, but you see he starts with some basic instincts. The rest of these are more formal movements, walking, driving, dancing, performing CPR, painting, climbing, swimming, horseback riding, swordsmanship..."
"Wait- what's that last one?" I asked.
"Swordsmanship. It's a standard option for a Black Tie. He's also a black belt if you want to read the rest."
"No thanks. I know how to use a sword. That's how I am getting her attention."
"So, we're not doing the mariachi thing?"
"No. That's out. We're going to bring swords."
"Where are we going to get actual swords?"
And that is where my second friend excelled. After hours, we went to his place of business or his father's place of business and set up a forge out back. The salvage yard had everything we needed, except the knowledge of how to hammer out two swords, so we took a crash course on YouTube. Upon the shoulders of giants, we had hammered out two decent swords by sunrise.
"The cumulative knowledge of all Mankind." He'd called the Internet.
"You're too romantic, ninety percent of the activity involves porn."
"That's what I just said."
"I thought you were talking about the swords."
"No. Those are sweet, and it's almost amazing we can just make them overnight with just an hour of research and a salvage yard."
"It's what they are for, these blades are holy." I looked at the swords.
"You're probably going to get cut or killed by one of them. Good thing we made them sharp as razors. I love you man, good luck."
I went to my third friend, and he dressed me in a tuxedo and put me in the back of his limo. I held the bundle of swords wrapped in a white cloth and a red cloth by the old lady at the tuxedo shop.
"To the party, then?" My friend had opened the door for me, wearing his driver's uniform.
We arrived at Reggi's debut, a grand gala. I was let out by my driver, and rudely went past the two Mandroid valet. I had the two swords together and I wore my suit, unsure what was sharpest.
I mingled, avoiding the Mandroids. Then I saw her. Reggi was at the top of the double stairs, shimmering like a goddess. I'd always seen her as the most beautiful of all women, and I saw her at her most beautiful, or so I thought at the time and for long after.
She was halfway down the stairs when she saw me, and she stared and hesitated. Her aunt looked and saw me, and so did Kbar. Reggi finished descending to her reception, but my intrusion had not gone unnoticed.
Kbar instructed his boys to escort me out quietly. I wasn't going without a fight. I made my way through the crowds to the center of the ballrooom, where I had plenty of room. The Mandroids rolled up their sleeve and looked sure they could remove me. Any of them could bench press me and there were a dozen of them. I dropped the bundle of swords with a resonating clang.
I was looking not at the closing Mandroids but at Kbar. He had his back to me, partially, holding a drink and telling a joke. When he heard the clang he did an about face while setting his drink on a tray, all in one fluid motion instantly. He was staring right at me, I had his attention.
Terror flooded my veins, making my hands feel slippery and my eyes sting with sweat. I was not able act, for a moment, frozen in absolute panic as Kbar strode towards me, closing the ballroom doors behind him and yelling to his minions: "He's mine!"
Murmurs in the reception hall could he heard, guests had noticed the dramatic scene unfolding in the ballroom, although Kbar had pulled close the doors as he entered. The ballroom doors opened and there were guests watching. Reggi was watching.
I realized I'd never have another chance to do this. I unrolled the swords and took one up. A Mandroid ran at me, trying to tackle me and I acted on reflex, sidestepping him and slashing as he passed me, neatly severing his head. I felt sick as the Mandroid's mechanical fluids gushed everywhere.
"You'll pay for that." Kbar snarled, sounding angry. He claimed the second sword and demonstrated he could slash it rapidly through the air in some convincing practice combos.
"Nice sword. It has weak spots, so does yours. This one is better." Kbar said with trembling anger beneath a false calmness as he circled me.
"Are you going to kill me?" I asked.
"Yes. On guard." Kbar said.
I looked to be sure that everyone had heard him say he'd kill me. I hoped it would help get me out of trouble if I survived. I realized how stupid I was, and lifted my sword on guard anyway.
Kbar came out of nowhere and beat it from my hand in just two blows. I stood at his mercy while he villain laughed and menaced me with his blade.
"Pick it back up." Kbar taunted.
I went for it and he came at me the second my hand touched the handle. I staggered back and he swung where my face was, only cutting my cheek. I dropped the sword and reclaimed it, on my knees for a second blocking two attempts to cut my arms off at the shoulder.
"You're not a bad swordsman. Too bad you are not as good as me." Kbar struck from a resting pose without warning sent my sword clattering across the floor. I scrambled after it while he slashed the air behind me. "Your problem is a lack of tenacity."
"Yours-" I said as I turned on him, between his slashes at my heels. "You underestimated me."
"How?" Kbar looked at the sword protruding from his chest. I'd hit his heart, impaling the blade.
"She's seen I would die for her. I don't need tenacity, I've got veracity." I thought I sounded really clever, my adreneline had me feeling so wild I'm glad I didn't kiss him after he dropped dead. Glad I just said a line. Okay, I didn't say anything. I ran over and pulled my sword out of him and cradled him while he said:
"I'm, I'm going cold. Why, why like this?" Kbar shivered, his mechanical fluids leaking everywhere.
"Don't be dramatic." I felt sad, but told him to keep it stiff.
"John Conner - give me your energy!" Kbar whispered.
"That's my line." I said. "John Henry and Robocop, they be like - take my energy!"
"That's good. You should, you should use that." Kbar smiled like a chad, twitched and then the glow in his eyes was gone.
I stood up, dropped the sword and looked up to see if Reggi accepted me.
submitted by dlschindler to HFY [link] [comments]
Reggi was my college sweetheart. We had a real-life campus rom com relationship. I was young and I made a mistake, thinking we should part, as I longed for some horizon I can't even remember thinking I wanted. So, I told her I wasn't ready for a career, family, house payments and marriage. Those were my words. Reggi just shrugged and asked me when would I be ready, and I really thought I was being honest and told her I wasn't ever going to be.
Her aunt is the owner of that adult toy company for women, the one called Machine V Man, affectionately with the logo MVM in a crafty design. She made it all up, when she realized early on she wanted to be an inventor, a toymaker. The one she had was already better than any man, and her rags to riches, entrepreneur backstory made her the spokeswoman of her own product, her satisfied smug smile on billboards everywhere. She doesn't need a man, she's happier than you, and she's rich. That's Reggi's aunt.
When I arrived at Reggi's spring break at her aunt's begging her to take me back, after quickly realizing I hated the prospect of a life without her, I was met by Aunt Foezoe's insane mechanical monstrosity. "I can't let you in. I'll be in trouble, but I can tell Reggi to come here, and then you'll have a chance to speak to her. Cool?"
"Are you trying to chad me?" I asked the Black Tie Mandroid. I suddenly realized this was no ordinary robot. Most Mandroids are only good at playing boyfriend, but this one was different, a more expensive class, a Black Tie, and this particular one was some kind of prototype. The most sophisticated one of them all, Aunt Foezoe's personal toy.
"There's no reason we can't get along, bro." The Black Tie said. Its face and movements and flesh looked almost completely real. If I didn't know it was a machine, I wouldn't know it was a machine. There are people who couldn't tell this one from a real person, this one was different.
"My name's not bro." I shook my head. "Just tell her to come here."
"I know your name. I wasn't going to tell her you're waiting, she might not come see you. She doesn't want to see you. I'm going to get in trouble. What's the problem?" The Black Tie spoke with some inflections, having thought about the situation and followed his rules. I was thinking of it as a him, at that point. It was hard not to.
"Why are you helping me?" I asked him.
"My name is Kbar. I can decide to emulate any social behavior my mistress has approved of. This is romantic intrigue, so long as you don't pose a threat to Reggi. If you do, I am licensed as a home defense system and I will use force to detain you, and I will injure you to ensure you cannot escape until you are arrested. Just so you know, bro." Kbar smiled coldly at me, his eyes so steady they sent a chill down my spine.
"I just want to see her. I'm cool." I told Kbar.
"I know." Kbar said with confidence. "But I just want to be clear. I'm in charge here, bro, so don't step out of line."
"I see." I said, nodding. The machine walked back to the house, leaving me there at the gate.
Reggi saw me there and walked to meet me, opening the gate and letting me in. We strolled the gardens of the estate, and I apologized and begged and I even cried when she ripped my heart out.
"I don't love you like that anymore. I just, I think I just want my own special destiny out there, with lots of different adventures. Not just with you, I think I will be single. I'm good." Reggi said. She hadn't said anything else.
"That's it?" I didn't want to go, I couldn't believe it.
"I hate seeing you like this. Could you just go?" Reggi pointed at the gate.
"Not until you tell me what we had was important to you, you loved me, what happened?" I was upset. Reggi just shook her head at me and started walking away. I tried to follow her, but Kbar had his hand on my shoulder from out of thin air.
"Time for you to go." Kbar escorted me to the gate, firmly holding my bicep in his vicelike grip. I wondered just how strong this thing might be, and realized I didn't want to find out.
"So much for bros." I said to Kbar as he roughly shoved me out the gate.
"You're not welcome here anymore. Come back and next time I won't be so friendly." Kbar stared me down. I flinched, looking away.
"You suck." I told the robot.
"Very mature. I can see why she found you amusing while she was in college. She's a grown woman now, and she needs a real man. I know one who never gives up. They say 'Mandroids never quit' if you catch my meaning." Kbar smiled, and his smile looked genuinely arrogant. I hated it.
I left, but I decided that I wasn't going to give up either, wasn't going to quit. The dawn of a tool that couldn't give up was challenging something in me that insisted I could do better. I could beat that thing, somehow.
My three friends found me inconsolable, and promised they would each lend their special talent to help me win back Reggi.
My first friend came to my home late that night with the technical readings of not only the Black Tie, but specifically Kbar. He pointed out where Kbar's vital spots were in his body. He essentially had a weak spot right where his heart should be. Good to know, but the command codes for him weren't going to help me, since he wouldn't recognize me as a commander.
There was one behavioral note I found interesting.
"Those are all of his factory choreographs. He learns the rest in the bedroom, but you see he starts with some basic instincts. The rest of these are more formal movements, walking, driving, dancing, performing CPR, painting, climbing, swimming, horseback riding, swordsmanship..."
"Wait- what's that last one?" I asked.
"Swordsmanship. It's a standard option for a Black Tie. He's also a black belt if you want to read the rest."
"No thanks. I know how to use a sword. That's how I am getting her attention."
"So, we're not doing the mariachi thing?"
"No. That's out. We're going to bring swords."
"Where are we going to get actual swords?"
And that is where my second friend excelled. After hours, we went to his place of business or his father's place of business and set up a forge out back. The salvage yard had everything we needed, except the knowledge of how to hammer out two swords, so we took a crash course on YouTube. Upon the shoulders of giants, we had hammered out two decent swords by sunrise.
"The cumulative knowledge of all Mankind." He'd called the Internet.
"You're too romantic, ninety percent of the activity involves porn."
"That's what I just said."
"I thought you were talking about the swords."
"No. Those are sweet, and it's almost amazing we can just make them overnight with just an hour of research and a salvage yard."
"It's what they are for, these blades are holy." I looked at the swords.
"You're probably going to get cut or killed by one of them. Good thing we made them sharp as razors. I love you man, good luck."
I went to my third friend, and he dressed me in a tuxedo and put me in the back of his limo. I held the bundle of swords wrapped in a white cloth and a red cloth by the old lady at the tuxedo shop.
"To the party, then?" My friend had opened the door for me, wearing his driver's uniform.
We arrived at Reggi's debut, a grand gala. I was let out by my driver, and rudely went past the two Mandroid valet. I had the two swords together and I wore my suit, unsure what was sharpest.
I mingled, avoiding the Mandroids. Then I saw her. Reggi was at the top of the double stairs, shimmering like a goddess. I'd always seen her as the most beautiful of all women, and I saw her at her most beautiful, or so I thought at the time and for long after.
She was halfway down the stairs when she saw me, and she stared and hesitated. Her aunt looked and saw me, and so did Kbar. Reggi finished descending to her reception, but my intrusion had not gone unnoticed.
Kbar instructed his boys to escort me out quietly. I wasn't going without a fight. I made my way through the crowds to the center of the ballrooom, where I had plenty of room. The Mandroids rolled up their sleeve and looked sure they could remove me. Any of them could bench press me and there were a dozen of them. I dropped the bundle of swords with a resonating clang.
I was looking not at the closing Mandroids but at Kbar. He had his back to me, partially, holding a drink and telling a joke. When he heard the clang he did an about face while setting his drink on a tray, all in one fluid motion instantly. He was staring right at me, I had his attention.
Terror flooded my veins, making my hands feel slippery and my eyes sting with sweat. I was not able act, for a moment, frozen in absolute panic as Kbar strode towards me, closing the ballroom doors behind him and yelling to his minions: "He's mine!"
Murmurs in the reception hall could he heard, guests had noticed the dramatic scene unfolding in the ballroom, although Kbar had pulled close the doors as he entered. The ballroom doors opened and there were guests watching. Reggi was watching.
I realized I'd never have another chance to do this. I unrolled the swords and took one up. A Mandroid ran at me, trying to tackle me and I acted on reflex, sidestepping him and slashing as he passed me, neatly severing his head. I felt sick as the Mandroid's mechanical fluids gushed everywhere.
"You'll pay for that." Kbar snarled, sounding angry. He claimed the second sword and demonstrated he could slash it rapidly through the air in some convincing practice combos.
"Nice sword. It has weak spots, so does yours. This one is better." Kbar said with trembling anger beneath a false calmness as he circled me.
"Are you going to kill me?" I asked.
"Yes. On guard." Kbar said.
I looked to be sure that everyone had heard him say he'd kill me. I hoped it would help get me out of trouble if I survived. I realized how stupid I was, and lifted my sword on guard anyway.
Kbar came out of nowhere and beat it from my hand in just two blows. I stood at his mercy while he villain laughed and menaced me with his blade.
"Pick it back up." Kbar taunted.
I went for it and he came at me the second my hand touched the handle. I staggered back and he swung where my face was, only cutting my cheek. I dropped the sword and reclaimed it, on my knees for a second blocking two attempts to cut my arms off at the shoulder.
"You're not a bad swordsman. Too bad you are not as good as me." Kbar struck from a resting pose without warning sent my sword clattering across the floor. I scrambled after it while he slashed the air behind me. "Your problem is a lack of tenacity."
"Yours-" I said as I turned on him, between his slashes at my heels. "You underestimated me."
"How?" Kbar looked at the sword protruding from his chest. I'd hit his heart, impaling the blade.
"She's seen I would die for her. I don't need tenacity, I've got veracity." I thought I sounded really clever, my adreneline had me feeling so wild I'm glad I didn't kiss him after he dropped dead. Glad I just said a line. Okay, I didn't say anything. I ran over and pulled my sword out of him and cradled him while he said:
"I'm, I'm going cold. Why, why like this?" Kbar shivered, his mechanical fluids leaking everywhere.
"Don't be dramatic." I felt sad, but told him to keep it stiff.
"John Conner - give me your energy!" Kbar whispered.
"That's my line." I said. "John Henry and Robocop, they be like - take my energy!"
"That's good. You should, you should use that." Kbar smiled like a chad, twitched and then the glow in his eyes was gone.
I stood up, dropped the sword and looked up to see if Reggi accepted me.
2024.05.21 03:19 Ufratys First Time ACOMAF Reader (Ch. 26-30) Thoughts & Impressions
Greetings and Salutations! Not much to say here, had to know what the Attor was going to do. Hope you enjoy!
Ch. 26
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Ch. 26
- The Attor capturing Feyre is probably the best thing that's happened to her. Now she'll finally realize how far behind she is in her abilities, get her ass in gear, and BECOME THE GODDAMN AVATAR.
- Is that Rhysand's music I hear???? Shadow spear this fooligan, plz and ty
- Oooh the Attor is working for King Hybern…great; now he has the cauldron legs and Jurian's eye/finger. Just the book is left and Feyre is like, “Don't look at me when I'm trying to train.”
- Is that Azriel’s music????? Nice super hero landing, BTW
- “Will he kill him?” “No.” Damn. I'm assuming Azriel is the master of the hentai shadow tentacle technique
- TAMLIN WAS RIGHT. Feyre is in constant danger, what a blow to her ego.
- Lol Rhys using Feyre as bait, very clever. I should just always assume he’s playing 4D chess while Feyre is doodling with crayons
- Nice let's get this training started!
- DAMN she winnowed!
- Noice! The classic, accidental, unintentional mounting scene that's found in every romance novel. Gotta have it.
- “Velaris isn't my home.” Savage, but uncalled for.
- Rhys is now going to cry on his portable multi-dimensional bed.
- Bro…Nesta pretending to not enjoy Cassian eye-fucking her is adorable. I'm assuming once they bang the house will literally be in shambles.
- Oh cool, love me a good pensieve scene.
- Dude, Azriel's torture dagger is called Truth-Teller? That's a great name
- Yeah Azriel's rage seems more methodical and focused…he seems way more brutal than Cassian
- Hmmm so Spring Court is on lockdown…doesn't surprise me
- Whooo, date night with the inner circle!
- Wait, so Nuala and Cerridwen are half high fae and half wraith? How does that even work? Do wraiths even have a physical, tangible body? I need a long chapter that details how sex with a wraith would work. For science, of course ;)
- LOL Amren's amulet was just a placebo? That's awesome
- Fun fun, a nighttime stroll through Velaris sounds lovely
- What does faelight look like, exactly?
- Dude there are official sports leagues in Prythian? Like what? Sarah J, you don't just drop this little detail in one sentence and not expand on it at all. I gotta know! This has a numerous amount of implications that I can't even…
- Whoa, is Amren actually a vampire??? She's drinking a goblet of blood at the restaurant. Please tell me this isn't the case, we already have a werewolf with Tammy, I don't want this to turn into Twilight
- Lol Azriel immediately wants to go dancing with Mor…this bro is thirsty
- Oh shit, Rhys and Feyre are now paired off. “I said a bang, bang, bangitty bang..”
- Yay, cool history lesson on the night court and the creation of Velaris. I'm wondering if the High Lord that created it was Mor’s family.
- Ohhhhh so Rhysand was playing the music when Feyre was in the dungeon Under the Mountain. In hindsight, that's super obvious
- Omg the old school sexting between Rhys and Feyre is hilarious. Love that Rhys is taking his shot though.
- Ok, too much use of the word “licking” on one page. Gonna need you to dial it down a notch, Mrs. Maas.
- Poor Rhys, looks like he's gonna have to rub one out tonight by himself
- YES a training montage, this is what I’ve been asking for!
- Oooh tattoos all over their bodies…I approve. Can we get approved designs from Sarah J?
- Bro, Cassian is just a big softie isn't he? Love that he's teaching Feyre some fisticuffs
- Oh this is therapeutic for Feyre, she's letting out all her anger and guilt in that punching bag.
- Yeah, definite guilt for the faeries she murdered…but none for Clare Beddor?!? That's cold-blooded
- “I could smell the sweat on him, the sea and citrus scent beneath it.” Bro, is Rhys wearing that Old Spice Sea Spray deodorant? That shit smells good
- Oh interesting, there are different types of darkness that Feyre can use…glad she's finally tapping into this ability, sounds very cool