World records for bobsleigh

Hey everyone,
I'm currently someone (30M) who has always had folks by my side all my life as part of "my team," as my parents call it. A major reason for this outside support network is because I'm autistic, have ADHD-I, dysgraphia, generalized anxiety, social anxiety, PTSD (more on that later), and processing speed in the 3rd percentile. I did not learn I was autistic until I was 14 and always took medication for it and my ADHD-I. I also did not know I had ADHD-I until I was 24-25 because I was on my own for submitting the records of my disabilities to the graduate schools I've attended up until this point. As for my processing speed, I did not learn it was that low until this past August when I sought a DSM-V re-evaluation with my own money.
My mental health symptoms were so severe that, despite doing well academically in a suburban school district that was well funded through property taxes (I'm in the US so the education system here is messed up), I transitioned to a tiny high school that specifically accommodated disabled students. This school had no AP, honors courses, or foreign language courses offered at all. I enrolled in a rural undergraduate school because they gave me the best scholarship offer and my parents insisted on getting as many scholarships as I could (more on this towards the end of the post). Despite my university's reputation as the "stoner college" of northern Ohio, I got my butt handed to me academically and had a 3.1 GPA from that undergraduate and a 3.26 from all of my courses overall. Part of the reason was because I went for a BS, rather than a BA, in Psychology and didn't do well in the math courses with the exception of when I retook Calculus 2.
After my first year, I wanted to take a break from college, but I was forced to stay at the behest of my parents. They even hired a life coach who worked with me from a distance for all four years. As grateful as I am for that support, I realize it was the beginning of issues with becoming totally independent. Fast forward to graduation and I have one summer's worth of lab experience and a 3.5 PSY GPA to my name. I'm forced to take a gap year because I applied only to Ph.D programs (big mistake) and had low GRE scores.
So, how did I get into graduate school with my awful credentials? My parents hired a different coach who specialized in job applications and had a lot of connections. I was able to sell what little I had and get offers to 6/8 Master's programs I applied to in Experimental Psychology and had solid references that explicitly address that they thought I could do well despite my shortcomings. This coach taught me how to contact potential advisors and professors ahead of time and taught me the ins and outs of selling myself to get in.
My final Master's record upon graduation was a 3.48 GPA and I graduated a semester later. My final year of the Master's program, I reconsulted my old coach who helped me write my personal statement and get in contact with potential advisors again. I got two interviews and had one offer of admission to the current Ph.D program I'm in right now. This was despite my lackluster GPA (both undergrad and Master's) and not taking another 10 hours for an assistantship during my Master's program (no additional TAship or RAship in other words, even though everyone else in my program did something extra by their second year).
After I matriculated into the program, I got my Master's in December 2020 due to COVID delays and defending later than I had hoped in my case. I eventually had an ugly falling out with my first advisor due to a misunderstanding (I'll leave it at that since this background detail is already long), but thankfully passed my qualifier project still. I think the world of my current advisor, especially since he was the only one who took me when no one else would at all. I developed PTSD from the experience with my first advisor based on a neuropsychological evaluation I got back in August 2023. When I spoke to the original evaluator for my autism, she said that it was only likely that way because my stress management is characteristically poor and I have extremely low stress tolerance.
Fast forward to now and I recently turned 30 earlier this month. I am back with the old coach who helped me with my Master's and Ph.D applications once again and they're even helping me with "life stuff," getting through all of it and were immensely crucial for helping me get through the situation with my first Ph.D advisor.
I am thankful for the help I've received, but as the top of comment of a previous post alluded to in this instance, I have not learned to walk on my own.
In case this information is relevant, I have $53k in student loan debt principal. The undergraduate loans are eligible under Biden's SAVE plan and have their interest waived when payments are due since they're $0 at the moment. I have about $26k saved right now that I'm not going to put back toward my $24k of graduate loans until I know if I have income after this August.
I have student loan debt even though my father makes over $200k a year ever since I was around 10 years old and my mother makes anywhere between $60k-$80k a year. My parents do not have student loans since neither went to college. I also just learned that the coach billed my parents for around $680 each month over past two (highest ever). Even though its $100 per one hour session (thus leading me to think it was $200 a month since we meet twice a month). Turns out they charged for email and text communications with me even though those were encouraged. Should I feel guilty for not keeping track of the spending despite the agreement with my parents to help me on that? Given everything else mentioned earlier, should I feel guilty for "blowing through" these support systems? Folks love to tell me that someone who had half the resources I did taking my spot in graduate school instead could've gone further.
There is also something else I've been wondering ever since I learned their income levels. Other than the spending on me and my brothers, why would they be that insistent on me and my brothers taking out student loans? They said that they, my grandparents, and me would all pay for "a third" and part of that third on me and my brother's end was taking out student loans. I should also note that I went to a private high school for those with disabilities tuition free despite my parent's income as well because I got an autism scholarship from the state of Ohio that waived tuition.
Only other things I know that are finance related are the $350k in loans (not sure if this was principal or principal + interest) my father took out for his small business, which I know were paid off around my junior year of undergrad. Other than that, I don't know the mortgage of the house or anything else related to its value. I do know there's a mortgage in general though because one of my brothers asked if he paid for the house upfront and he said he did not at all and took out a loan. What else could be underlying their spending? I'm open to hearing others speculate.
Also, thank you for reading this super long post.

Little Mermaid \"Part of Your World\"
I'm happy to share the joy of singing through this recent recording of mine, a song from the Little Mermaid "Part of Your World"
I've decided to post it here to better document my progress in singing, and to share the joy of singing with others, at the same time see if there's any feedbacks. Although there's a lot of room for improvement, I believe there's no need for me to be insecure about it, after all singing should be a fun hobby, not a stressful event. I should learn to enjoy and appreciate it while working on it constructively.
Things I would like to work on in the subsequent recordings:

1. Better phrasing, so that the music sounds like sentences and not broken fragments of words. This could be improved with better control of breath. Poor phrasing was often due to running out of breath and being unfamiliar with the song.
2. Beat needs to be more accurate. Some notes are too short for their durations. Some doesn't match with the backing track.
3. The final part exploded. That needs to be re-recorded with better techniques.
4. Unfortunately, some notes had been "off" or inaccurate. This is very disturbing to the ear, and those need to be fixed as well.
5. Vibrato needs to be more stable. This requires more practice.
6. Continue to explore other songs, to better understand my voice. I would be grateful if someone could recommend some songs suitable for my voice type.

Thank you for your time / appreciation / feedback!

So this idea just popped in my head. An ex-SAS Harry gets involved in the Ginza Incident while buying souvenirs for Teddy. At first he sticks to scavenged weapons and stealthily conjured bullets. He manages to fight and evac as many civvies as he could until he finds himself in the middle of a heavily monitored street.
Now, he can't use visible magic but he is well known amongst his muggle associates for being able to achieve feats of superhuman proportions by basically flooding his body with his magic (muscles, nerves, ligaments, bones, etc.).
Hemione agreed to writing a doctor's note saying that he can willingly trigger his innate Hysterical Strength when under a certain amount of duress to explain it away to nonmagicals. For why his body doesn't suffer the backlash of using it? Well, he's trained hard to keep abusing it with diminished consequences. Also, adrenaline is one hell of a drug.
So, end result; the Japanese got to watch how just one foreign stranger singlehandedly held the line using a goddamn medieval fantasy war scythe of all thing against an invading medieval fantasy army until the JSDF finally came to his backup to the sight of a small hill of corpses and the glowing green eyes of the Reaper that sent them to the afterlife.
He promptly passed out after that.
Yes, this incident got recorded and spread throughout the net. It wouldn't be a HP story if he didn't have accidental fame. They call him the Reaper of Ginza now. Some more enterprising netizens even found his (admittedly fake) identity of Jameson Black; former SAS Captain.
[Well, there goes his fucking anonymity in the real world]
So, one thing leads to another and while he was asleep from overtaxing himself, the typical JSDF gate mobilisation happens but this time with the Japanese MOM involved. On the other hand, with the major players on UN getting uppity over a 'balanced foreign presence' in the Special Region, the Japs contact UK and basically saying:
"Could we borrow one of your elite guys? It's the insane one who was on vacation here and turned a quarter of Caesar's Legion LARPers into caesar salad with the power of the Queen and Anime on his side. Thanks."
So now, Harry has to head into the Special Region with Itami's group.
[And all this shit cuz Teddy wanted a couple fucking Gundams while he was here]

Hey RealEstateTechnology & SaaS
Cody here!
Last night we had the pleasure of Pitching Workflow Secrets SaaS, the Systems Accelerator Manager (SAM), at the St Louis Startup World Cup Semi-finals.
While there, Cody learned our Deck was… well, drastically different in its structure from the other competitors.
Why?
It’s all about the use-case. We built a ‘Dev Day’ Deck to showcase the Problem/Market/Solution of SAM - and brought it to a VC Competition.
Some might say, ‘Oops!’ But Workflow Secrets, after seeing the danger of trading control for a quick fix for funding in our own personal career in Tech, wanted to do things differently.
VC is great for fast growth and solving ‘money problems’… And lord knows we all have those... But where it falls short is the shift in focus.
We proudly get to wake up each day and ask ourselves how to care for our customer's needs, problems, and ability to use our solution… And not worry about driving a 3x - 10x increase for someone to get a fast exit.
In Jiu Jitsu, the goal is to spend your life training… We’d love nothing more than to be the 90yo in class proving it can be done.
This is the same in business. This problem is too great to speed the solutions.
So… Last night, to a confused group, Cody used the platform and stage to share about SAM. Focusing the conversation on how it can help, and how we see its potential for expansion, but by no means was it designed to attract VC.
We didn’t share charts. There were no bullet points. And you never once saw figures on how much money could be made.
Oh! And he was the only one with note-cards to keep on pace. A key difference that was hard not to internalize too much...
By their standards, we failed to offer a clear picture… And our score reflected it in all but one judge, who we reckon, understood the potential of SAM.
What we now have, however, is a recording of us on a real stage, something that sounds silly but often lends credibility to your message. Something Cody knew we needed, but didn’t have a way to fund.
We got a rep at sharing about SAM to hundreds of people in the Technology Industry that’s thriving in St. Louis. This, we believe will be important as our stage presence is refined, and the audience grows.
And most importantly, we were forced to clearly articulate the importance of SAM.
This exercise in thought and articulation is invaluable for marketing efforts, copywriting, video creation, and ultimately sharing a message so compelling Real Estate Agents (like you) can’t help but take note.
Cody walked into a room of people sharing the same burdens. Some who have gone this path before.
While in this room, he was able to step into the arena and make Workflow Secrets available to be part of the few crazy enough to try to make something new and better for this world.
Standing among Titans, and stepping forward to become one, one day, ourselves.

I sit alone in my room on the seventh floor, writing what will surely be my last will and testament. The heroin which allowed me to forget and to sleep for the last couple of years has lost its power to keep the screaming terrors away. The drug destroyed my body and mind, gradually eating away at them like a corrosive acid. Now I have become a slave to it. And yet, without it, I do not sleep for weeks, but instead continuously see the scenes from that terrible night running through my head on repeat as worsening waves of madness crash on the shores of my consciousness.
In the caverns under the town of Frost Hollow, I found the meaning of true madness. Ever since I escaped that den of horrors, it is difficult to tell what is real and what is only the feverish delirium of an unhinged mind.
Even now, they wait behind the door to this cheap, bare rented room. They drag their claws over the wood. I hear them hissing in that strange, ancient tongue, the one I first heard in the tombs of rock that had been undisturbed for countless millennia.
***
I had first heard rumors of an unexplored cavern from my friend, an experienced caver named Sonia who had explored caverns all over the world. I had been looking for some excitement in my life, some break from the constant monotony and boredom of simply working and sleeping. I had gone caving quite a few times over the year leading up to the trip, but I was not nearly as experienced and had never explored a supposedly virgin passageway of cavern before.
“How do you know no one’s gone down there?” I asked, curious. We sat across from each other at a local diner, getting some early breakfast before our planned descent. The sunrise was still another half-hour away, the sky flat and dark. We would be joined by Sonia’s husband, Phil, who would meet us there shortly after sunrise. I repressed an urge to yawn, chugging half of the steaming hot coffee in one long swallow. Sonia leaned close to me, her nearly colorless blue eyes reminding me of chunks of ice floating down a muddy stream.
“Phil’s friend just found it randomly,” she whispered before glancing around conspiratorially, as if she feared someone would care enough to eavesdrop on a conversation about a cave. “Well, it’s in the middle of a farm, and Phil’s friend, Jack Graysole, owns the entire property and surrounding woods. Jack says he noticed the cows kept going over to a certain spot in the field when it got really hot during the summertime. They would all gather around this little indentation in the grass. After seeing it a few times, Jack got curious and went to investigate what the cows were doing.
“He found a small hole in the ground, almost entirely covered by weeds and grass. He said he felt a cool breeze constantly blowing out of the hole, a breeze that smelled like burning matches and charred metal. After bringing out some shovels and digging down a couple feet, Jack realized that the hole wasn’t a hole at all, but the beginning of a steep passageway leading deep into the bowels of the earth.”
***
The owner of the land decided to unofficially call the newly-discovered cavern Graysole Caverns. Out of respect for him, this is also the name we all used. This is the story of how I found myself in the bowels of a strange subterranean tunnel, a tunnel where creatures beyond my comprehension slunk and hunted, skittering monstrosities who would be more at home in a nightmare.
After grabbing a couple coffees to take with us, Sonia drove over to Graysole Farms. Cows stood out in the grassy fields, huddled in tight circles as they repetitively chewed. The thin silhouette of Jack Graysole waited for us next to the herd. He had a face like a raisin, I thought to myself. I watched his thin, shaking body standing in the middle of an overgrown grassy field. Jack stared down blankly at something only he could see. Sonia and I started unloading some equipment from the car while we waited for Phil.
Once we had the backpacks loaded with some simple supplies, such as water, food, headlamps, rope, a couple extra batteries, some buck knives, and radios, we headed over to accompany Jack. We weren’t taking much, as we didn’t really expect to be down there for more than six or seven hours at the most.
Jack Graysole’s withered old face was as slack and expressionless as that of a corpse. He stared down at the ground as if he were in a trance, waving back and forth slowly on his feet like a plant in a light breeze.
“Jack?” Sonia called out as we approached. I could hear the man’s teeth chattering as we got nearer.
“Hey, what are you doing over here this early? You interested in accompanying us down there?” Sonia joked. But Jack might as well have been totally deaf for all the reaction he gave. Sonia glanced over at me with an anxious expression. I wondered if the old man was having a stroke.
I quickly walked over to where he stood, staring down at a black circular hole about three feet across directly in front of his feet. The entrance to Graysole Caverns stared up at us like a sightless pupil. As I drew within a few feet of Jack and looked straight into his blank eyes, I noticed something alarming.
His pupils were quickly dilating and constricting before my eyes. They would shrink to tiny pinpoints, then, a couple seconds later, rapidly expand until they became dark and serious. I could see his thready, rapid heartbeat pulsating in a vein on the side of his temple. Alarmed, I reached forward and put my hand on his shoulder.
Instantly, he came to life, like a man waking up from a nightmare. Shrieking, he looked at me with fully dilated pupils, reminding me of a panicked deer surrounded by wolves. His quavering old man’s voice shook with ineffable existential horror and mortal fear.
He took a step back away from us, seeming to realize where he was and what he was doing. He looked around, confused, then straight at me and Sonia. His eyes focused with anger and fear, as if we were demons here to drag him down to Hell. His eyes flicked back and forth between us constantly. Jack raised a trembling hand and pointed it straight at my heart.
“It’s you,” he said, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. His teeth chattered despite the warm spring air. His skin looked deathly pale. “You’re the one who will bring an end to humanity, who will release the ruler of nightmares upon us.” He continued to point accusingly for a long moment at me, his face turning chalk-white. Then his eyes rolled up in his head. Slowly, he stumbled and fell backwards onto the soft grass of the field.
“Jack!” Sonia cried, running over to the old man. Jack’s breaths had started to come in slow, drawn-out gurgles, like a man with a slit throat trying to breathe. Frothy blood bubbled from his lips as they turned blue. Staring up at the endless expanse of cloudless sky, he exhaled one last shuddering breath and died.
***
Phil showed up only a couple minutes later. He found me and Sonia in a state of utter panic, both of us bent double over the still body of Jack. Sonia was on the phone with 911, and I was trying to give Jack chest compressions. The way his fingernails and lips shone with that cyanotic blue cast made me feel sick and weak. I knew it was futile, that I was simply playing with a corpse at this point, but I didn’t know what else to do. I felt if I didn’t do something, I might explode.
I heard the faint wailing of sirens approaching as Sonia’s panicked voice continued babbling to the 911 operator. Phil stood by her side, his tall, dark features searching and lost.
“Oh God, I think he’s dead!” Sonia cried over and over to the operator, as if she thought the operator could do anything about it. I didn’t hear what the operator said in response. As the ambulance pulled in, I gave up on chest compressions. I stood up and took a step back, looking sadly down on the kindly old man’s dead body.
The paramedics ran over. Phil, Sonia and I stood back while they worked on the corpse, trying to shock the heart back into life. But Jack’s open eyes stayed glazed as they stared sightlessly up into eternity.
***
The paramedics left. A couple police officers stayed behind to ask us a few routine questions. Eventually, after an hour or so, they left, too.
“What a fucked-up day,” Phil said, shaking his head grimly. “Do you guys still want to do this? Maybe it’s an omen from God telling us to go home.” Sonia and I exchanged a glance, then we both nodded at the same time.
“Definitely,” she said. “It’s sad what happened to Jack, but realistically, we don’t know what’s going to happen to this property now that he’s passed away. It might get sold or taken by the bank for all we know. This could be our one and only chance to explore this cave.”
“I don’t believe in omens. I’m still down,” I said, feeling slightly sick from the experience. I still remembered how Jack’s body had cracked under the weight of my chest compressions, how his ribs had snapped like bones shattering in greedy hands. “We’ll do it in memory of Jack. I plan to put this up on YouTube.” I pulled my GoPro out of my bag, turning it on. Phil groaned at that.
“Do we have any idea how far down this cave goes?” Phil asked. I felt a sense of relief now that the topic had changed from the death of the old man.
“I sent a little camera down on a rope, but it only went about a hundred feet,” Sonia responded. “It’s pretty steep at first, then it levels out. I couldn’t really see much after it leveled out, but it looks like it should be easy to climb down. There’s plenty of handholds, lots of jutting rocks.”
Phil put on his headlamp and small pack. As he crawled down into the hole, his tanned face looked up at us and gave us one last devilish grin. Once he had gone down a few dozen feet, Sonia started descending. She looked excited and happy. I noticed how she couldn’t stop smiling as she disappeared from view.
I watched their lights grow smaller and dimmer in the circular tunnel. I marveled at how perfectly circular the entrance was. It almost didn’t even look natural.
Taking a deep breath in, I followed my friends down into the dark.
***
“This isn’t too bad,” I said as I climbed down. The jutting rocks gave plenty of handholds and footholds for us. It wasn’t so tight that it felt like a coffin, either.
“It only gets easier from here!” Sonia called up.
“How do you know?” I asked. “You said you’ve never been here before.” She laughed.
“I know. Probably just wishful thinking,” she said. Far below us, Jack’s voice drifted up, faint and weak. He had already reached the bottom.
“The tunnel really opens up down here, guys,” he called. “It’s somewhat… bizarre, though.”
“What do you mean by that?” Sonia asked. I looked down, seeing Sonia and I would reach the bottom in seconds. “Forget it, I’ll let it be a surprise.” I heard her drop down. Slowly and carefully, I lowered myself down the last few feet. There was a short fall onto a smooth granite floor. I looked up, seeing what Phil and Sonia were so mesmerized by.
“Oh, wow,” I said, speechless. I blinked rapidly, wondering if the image would clear like a mirage. The tunnel was cut into a perfectly triangular shape, each side about seven feet long. The ceiling met in a point above our heads.
All along the smooth walls of gray rock, I saw thousands of black orbs peeking out. They looked similar to obsidian, but they were perfectly smooth and circular, each about the size of an orange. They were formed into interlocking diagonal patterns and followed the tunnel straight down as far as the eye could see.
“What is this place?” Sonia asked, taking a tentative step forward. I looked up, seeing the distant pinpoint of sunlight far above our heads. Our voices continued to echo off down the massive tunnels, disappearing in eerie waves into the thick curtain of shadows.
“Are you recording all this?” Phil asked me. I laughed, giddy.
“Of course! This is internet gold right here,” I said. “No one’s going to believe that this isn’t man-made, however. I can’t even believe it. Do you think Jack was playing a joke on us or something?”
“Jack had the sense of humor of a wet paper towel,” Phil whispered, shaking his head. “No, he wouldn’t do something like this.”
“Well, let’s go check it out,” Sonia said, taking a step forward. Her headlamp bobbed up and down rapidly, throwing dancing shadows through the triangular tunnel. It continued straight ahead, without the slightest deviation or curve, disappearing off into a dark point in the distance.
***
We walked as fast as we could, excited to see where, if anywhere, the strange tunnel led. Phil, always the conspiracy theorist, babbled excitedly.
“This has to be aliens, man,” he said, running his fingers through his dark hair. “I bet that scientists will find out this shit is millions of years old when we get back up and tell everyone. Maybe aliens came to earth in ancient times and made a bunch of stuff underground.” Gradually, as we walked, I noticed the tunnel opening up. The pointed triangular ceiling rose up higher above our heads and the walls moved outwards, as we were walking up a triangular funnel. At first, it was so subtle that I didn’t believe it when Sonia pointed it out.
“No, look,” she said, raising her hand above her head. “When we first started down this weird tunnel, my fingers were only maybe a foot away from the top. Now it’s a couple feet.” I was about to respond when our headlamps illuminated something standing in the middle of the tunnel.
“What the fuck is that?” I whispered, stopping cold in my tracks. Phil and Sonia looked up at the abomination at the same time. Its back was to us. It stood nearly as tall as the tunnel, which was now about twenty feet high.
The bottom half looked black and spidery with dozens of long, jointed legs. A bloody, white spine rose out of the mass of legs. Inhumanly long, skeletal arms stretched out in front of it. Its face was pointed away from us, but the back of its head resembled an enormous pointed skull with deep fissures like the cracks of an earthquake running through the bone. The abomination stayed as still as a statue, and for a long moment, I wondered if we were looking at some macabre work of art.
Then, suddenly, one of its insectile legs twitched. A moment later, the other legs started jerking and twisting. There was a sound like bones shattering as it rose up to its full height, turning around to face us.
Its face was like something from a nightmare, melting and reforming constantly like dripping candle wax. I would see a black eye appear on its forehead, then a grinning mouth on its chin, then the features would get sucked back into the folds of melting flesh. After a few moments, two enormous eyes appeared on its face, dark and cold like craters on the surface of the Moon. The mouths and noses disappeared back into the dripping skin, and only the two lidless eyes remained, emanating a cold, reptilian consciousness beyond the ability of my mind to comprehend. I felt terror radiating from its body like freezing waves.
“Free me,” it cried in a gurgling voice that seethed with insanity. It had a shrieking, metallic ringing behind every word that gave it an alien quality. “Free me, and I will give you the waters of eternal life. Within me, I contain the seeds of immortality. Within the nightmares, we live forever, always together, never alone.”
“Who are you?” I asked, terrified. The black reptilian skin of the enormous beast glistened as it knelt down, its massive face drawing near to mine. A sideways mouth burst out of the liquified flesh, showing hundreds of fangs growing like tumors from its white, bloodless gums. The fangs varied in size from only a couple inches to long, sword-like projections that stabbed into the creature’s flesh, causing white blood glittering with rainbows to fall like raindrops all around me.
“I have many names,” it hissed, its thousand voices rising and falling in crashing waves of sound. “I was present at the beginning, when this planet was no more than dead cliffs and endless freezing oceans. Those holy ones who search for us, the ancient ones, call me Niralahoth.”
“How do we free you?” Phil asked, looking terrified. He held Sonia’s hand tightly.
“By letting me into your mind and body,” Niralahoth cried, shaking the cavern. “I was thrown down here, cursed and forgotten. I cannot leave this place of shadows within this body. But in the body of another, my consciousness can be free, and the seeds of new life can spread beyond this prison.”
“There’s no way anyone’s going to do that,” I said, my eyes widening as Niralahoth’s reptilian skull turned towards me in fury. “I mean, you’re asking one of us to give up our individuality, our lives, right?”
“I am asking you to become one with me and gain power undreamt of by mortals,” it cried. “I have within me the fountain of life, the waters that send death away screaming.” I glanced anxiously at Phil and Sonia, wondering if we would have to run.
“The answer is no,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, we can’t do that,” Phil said, backing me up. “But, anyways, I think our trip has ended. It’s time to turn around…”
“You will never return,” Niralahoth cried, skittering away from us. “If you will not accept salvation, then you must accept death.” Within seconds, it slunk away from us, backpedaling on its many skittering legs into the shadows.
***
All around us, a rumbling started.
There was a pounding that crashed through the rock tunnel, as if an insane blacksmith were hammering on a massive anvil. The ringing of crashing rock started off slowly, with a few stones smashing down around us with heavy blasts of sound. Within seconds, the cacophony sped up, rising into a constant stream of destruction. The black orbs were spinning in place all up and down the tunnel, their glossy obsidian surfaces flashing with sparks of blue light.
“It’s collapsing!” Phil cried, running back in the direction we came, holding Sonia’s hand as she tried to keep up with him. I could only stare for a long moment, not sure what to do. It seemed that the direction Phil was heading stood closer to total collapse.
“Wait!” I cried, but my voice was drowned out in the destruction all around us. I felt a rock smash into my shoulder, sending me down to my feet. I heard Phil give a scream of pain, then another stone came down and smashed into my forehead. I remember seeing everything spinning around me as the world went black.
***
I awoke to find my headlamp still shining straight up in the dusty tunnel. Large chunks of the tunnel had slid out of place and crashed to the stone floor. The granite chunks that had fallen looked unnaturally smooth, most of them in the shapes of cylinders or cubes and varying in size from that of an egg to that of a small car.
My head throbbed. It felt as if a tight belt of fire were wrapped around my temples. Groaning, I put my fingers up to my forehead. They came away slick with blood.
Slowly, I started pushing myself up on my feet. I was relieved that nothing seemed broken. I had a deep gash running from the center of my scalp down to my left temple and some shallower cuts on my shoulders and back, but I knew none of that was life-threatening.
“Sonia?” I whispered, my voice coming out weak and strained. I reached into my pack and found a bottle of water. I chugged it quickly in one long swallow.
“Phil?” I cried again, this time stronger. I heard a soft weeping nearby. Staggering, I followed the sound.
Sonia was bloody and covered in cuts and scrapes, sitting next to Phil’s prone form. I saw Phil’s right arm pinned under a massive slab of granite. His arm disappeared from the elbow down in a spreading puddle of thick, dark blood.
“Oh God, Max, I think he’s hurt really bad,” she wept. Phil’s eyes rolled wildly in his head, his face pale and bloodless. I looked down the way we had come, seeing the entire tunnel blocked by large slabs of stone, many with strange, black orbs peeking out like the lenses of cameras.
***
I don’t know how much time passed. My phone died after a day, and then we were counting the endless darkness in breaths and tears.
Phil swam in and out of consciousness as his arm putrefied and blackened around the crush site. After a couple days, Sonia and I agreed that something had to be done. We told Phil we would need to amputate his arm. He was half-delirious, but he came back long enough to understand us and nod weakly.
We made a fire with Phil’s pack, trying to find fuel to throw in it to get it roaring. As it grew, I saw one of the black orbs near the flames abruptly ignite, as if it had been covered in gasoline. Blue, almost colorless flames rose from its surface. We started throwing the small black orbs on the fire until it rose high in the air. I sanitized the buck knife with the flames and pulled a rope tourniquet tight around Phil’s arm. He was conscious but seemingly insane, talking to himself more than anyone else.
“How are we going to get the car started without a key?” he gurgled to someone only he could see. “We need to look around. It has to be here somewhere.”
“Phil, can you hear me, bud? We need to fix your arm. We need to get you out of this mess. OK?” I said as comfortingly as I could. Phil’s eyes rolled wildly, but they didn’t meet my own. I sighed and looked over at Sonia.
“Let’s do it,” I said, giving a grim nod.
I pulled the buck knife out, slicing quickly down through the flesh next to the tourniquet. His veins throbbed like fat worms as the blackened, necrotic skin split easily under the blade, releasing a rancid-smelling gas that hissed out of the wound.
I couldn’t believe how hard it was to slice all the way through the arm. It felt like I was stuck in that hellish task forever. Phil’s eyes rolled in his head as his skin turned the color of clotted milk.
“God, Jesus, make it stop,” Phil whispered over and over, exhaling ragged, pain-filled breaths. The blood spurted from the blackened, dying tissue all over the dust-covered cavern floor, covering my hands in its warm, slick embrace.
After what was probably only three or four minutes, but felt like hours, I had sliced all the way down to the bone. The infected tissue of his arm spurted great gouts of orange pus mixed with rivulets of blood. The hard part was over.
Standing up, I took my steel-toe sneaker and stomped down on his arm as hard as I could. Phil cried out in a powerful voice, as if all the agony and suffering in the world was contained in that one shriek. The bone snapped under my weight with a sound like a tree branch cracking. A moment later, Phil rolled away from the rock that had pinned me in place for so long. Something alien and spongy was shoved into my face, a mass of destroyed red tissue pulsating in time with a runaway heartbeat. At first, shell-shocked and revolted, my mind couldn’t comprehend that I was looking at the stump of Phil’s mutilated arm. I hardened my heart and forced the giddiness and madness to the back of my mind. The time had come to cauterize the wound.
“Sonia, give it to me,” I said with a tremor in my voice. I reached out a hand towards her, a hand stained with Phil’s blood. It looked as if I were wearing a wet, crimson glove. Sonia only stared blankly at me for a long moment, however. A surge of anger ran up my chest.
“Sonia, toughen the fuck up! He’s going to die if you just sit there!” I swore at her, hearing my deep, angry voice bounce around the caverns. Sonia pulled back, as if she were struck. Inwardly, I cursed having a woman as my only able-bodied companion in this situation. She was a competent enough caver, but what would happen if violence and blood came over us? What would happen if, or more realistically when, we needed to fight?
Grimly, Sonia leaned forward and yanked the burning black orb out of the roaring fire, handing it to me on the end of a buck knife that had just barely pierced its hard, strange exterior. The handle of the knife felt coarse and splintery under my filthy skin. I put it to the spongy stump of Phil’s arm. The stump twitched violently. Phil tried to pull away as black smoke rose from the burning flesh.
There was a smell like bacon sizzling. The searing meat of Phil’s arm blackened and crisped under the heat of the orb, which had become no more than a cylinder of glowing blue embers by this point. I felt simultaneously sick and giddy. I didn’t know if I wanted to laugh or vomit. I felt like I was on the verge of some kind of madness, that the stress and insanity of the experience had started to shatter my mind.
His eyes rolled back in his head and he appeared to go into a seizure for a few seconds. With a long exhalation of breath, he finally, mercifully, lost consciousness. It’s hard to admit it, even this close to the end, but a small, sick piece of me was jealous of Phil. Most likely, he would be dead soon, maybe within hours, while Sonia and I would slowly starve and dehydrate like animals over a period of weeks. I looked at her lithe body and soft skin, seeing the feminine curves of her hips and chest. She was a beautiful woman. I knew Phil to be a lucky man. At least, before this trip, he was.
I watched her body, wondering if I had what it took to eat her or Phil if I had to. Did I have an iron heart that would allow me to slice into my friends and consume their raw, cold flesh? Perhaps, by that point, it would be hunger and madness driving me forward, and I wouldn’t even hesitate. I shuddered at the very thought.
***
I fell asleep that night, having strange dreams of massive gods with melting faces sitting in judgment in a circle around me. We had very little food or water left. No one knew we were down here. Rescue was not coming.
When I awoke, I found myself alone. Phil had died from his injuries while I slept, the black streaks of septic shock spreading up his arm towards his heart. His eyes stared sightlessly up at the rock ceiling.
“Sonia?” I called out, my heart racing as I sat up. “Where are you?” My headlamp was growing dim. I looked in my pack, realizing I was on the last of my batteries. I saw a silhouette walking out of the darkness, the thin, pale form of Sonia. She was trembling badly.
“I saw them,” she said. “Niralahoth and its priests. The priests aren’t human. They look reptilian with sideways mouths and too many eyes.” She shuddered.
“Why would you do that?” I asked. Her eyes grew distant.
“You know we’re not getting out of here alive,” she said. “Not on our own. I wanted to see what it offered. It says that if we take a piece of its nightmare into us, we will gain the power to leave this place, that it simply wants to see the surface and spread its nightmares there.” I shook my head.
“Insanity,” I muttered. “We’d be better off dead.” Sonia nodded.
“My thoughts exactly,” she responded grimly. I didn’t realize what she meant until the next day, when I woke up and found her hanging next to Phil’s body, her tongue swollen and blue as it poked out of her cyanotic lips. And then I was truly alone.
***
Soon after Sonia committed suicide, the last of the batteries for the headlamp died. I had run out of food and had only a small sip of water left. I don’t know how much time passed in the darkness, starving and raving, following the tunnel by running my hands over the walls. I heard many things skittering in the darkness, and a few times, I heard the demonic voice of Niralahoth as it split and distorted.
“You are on death’s door,” it hissed. “Will you not drink from the fountain of life?” I couldn’t tell where the voice came from in the maddening blackness. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. I had lost nearly all of my sanity in that pit of shadows by this point. I tried laughing constantly to keep my spirits up, and when that failed, I simply cried.
“I’ll do it,” I wailed. “I’ll do it. Just let me see the sky again. Get me out of here, Niralahoth.” Everything went deathly silent all around me, then a laugh rang out like the grinding of glass.
In front of me, I saw a tornado of fire descending from the ceiling, surrounding the massive, spidery form of Niralahoth. It rose its skeletal arms upwards, as if it were Zeus calling down lightning. In the sudden brightness, I saw the fiery form of snakes slithering and centipedes skittering forwards in that tornado, each massive creature sculpted from flames in the spinning cyclone of energy. Niralahoth reached into the tornado of fire with its sharp points of fingers and plucked something small from it. The fire instantly dissipated. In its hand, I saw a tiny, swirling orb that looked like it contained a firestorm within it.
“The nightmare seed,” Niralahoth gurgled as it skittered forward towards me. I could only stare, open-mouthed and starving. I hadn’t slept for days, it felt like, and everything seemed slow and unreal.
In a blur, its skeletal arm shot out and forced the orb into my mouth. Despite the fire raging within it, it felt freezing cold. As it touched my tongue, it gave off a sensation like frostbite all throughout my mouth. I screamed and tried spitting it out, but it seemed to have a mind of its own. It started liquifying, dripping down my throat.
I felt something cancerous and sick spreading throughout my body, radiating out from my heart and stomach to every inch of it. I tried to scream, but it caught behind my teeth. I fell to my knees, clawing at my face as that insane, alien laugh continued resounding all down the tunnel. I fell unconscious and woke up under a beautiful sky in the fields of Graysole Farms.
***
Soon after, I realized that my life would never be the same. Everywhere I went, I could hear the wailing voice of Niralahoth. Behind the trees, I always saw skittering shadows, creatures with long, spidery legs that stalked me every day and night. I slept with every light in the house turned on, yet when I woke up, they would all be shut off, and I would find myself in darkness, next to something in the bed with far too many legs and a face that dripped like burning wax.
I sold everything I owned and tried to move far away, to give as much distance between myself and those cursed caverns as I could, but the nightmares followed me like a shadow. I realize what a fool I was in those ephemeral moments of madness. Sonia was much wiser than myself; I should have killed myself or died rather than allowing that thing inside of me.
Even now, I can feel it creeping through my heart, spreading through my blood. I feel it trying to crawl its way out of my throat, the thin, black legs peeking out at the back of my esophagus.
I only hope that, when I finally jump and feel my bones shatter against the concrete far below, I will kill whatever is inside of me. For I fear the consequences for the world if it were to escape.

Are you looking for a vibrant, creative, and supportive Minecraft community? Look no further! Etheria SMP is designed exclusively for players 18 and older, providing a safe and friendly environment where you can unleash your creativity and forge long-lasting friendships.
🌍 Explore and Create:
Unlimited Creativity: From massive mega builds to cozy cottages, Etheria SMP is your canvas. Build whatever your imagination dreams up!
Regular Events: Participate in exciting events and challenges that keep the gameplay fresh and rewarding.
Active Rewards: Stay engaged and be rewarded for your contributions to the community.
💎 Thriving Diamond Economy:
Player-Made Shops: Set up your own shop and trade with other players using our diamond-based economy. Buy, sell, and barter to your heart’s content.
Economic Growth: Participate in a bustling marketplace where your creativity can translate into economic success.
🤝 Community First:
Warm and Welcoming: Etheria SMP prides itself on being a friendly and inclusive space where everyone can feel at home.
Build Friendships: Connect with like-minded adults who share your passion for Minecraft and create memories that will last a lifetime.
Be Yourself: We celebrate individuality and encourage you to express yourself through your builds and interactions.
LGBTQ+ Friendly: Etheria SMP is an inclusive community that celebrates diversity and ensures everyone feels respected and valued.
📹 Content Creator Friendly:
Stream and Record: Whether you're a streamer, YouTuber, or aspiring content creator, Etheria SMP is the perfect backdrop for your content.
Collaborate: Team up with other creators in the community to produce exciting and unique content.
🔒 Exclusive Access:
Whitelisted Server: Enjoy a secure and trustworthy environment with handpicked members who value respect and camaraderie.
18+ Only: Join a mature community of adults who understand the balance between fun and respectful gameplay.
🚀 Get Started Today:
Apply for Whitelist: Message me to join our discord and receive the application for whitelist.
Join the Fun: Dive into a world of endless possibilities and start building your dreams!
Etheria SMP is more than just a Minecraft server; it’s a place to belong. Come for the game, stay for the community. Your next adventure begins here!
See you in Etheria! 🌟

Hey guys, very new to the home-tech world as we are really old school. After a recent incident with a neighbor cutting down a bush on our property, I've decided I want a security camera on our house. I'm having trouble finding what I want though:

• Need it to be wired, as I can easily wire it where I want it and don't want to deal with batteries
  
• Want something that constantly records and maybe just overwrites itself every week or something, kind of like a dash cam. No need for motion activated as we have constant wildlife that I don't care to catch every 20 minutes here
  
• Would prefer no subscription but if it's something cheap like < $5 a month I can do that
  

Does this exist? I don't need any other fancy features. I appreciate the suggestions!

Are you looking for a vibrant, creative, and supportive Minecraft community? Look no further! Etheria SMP is designed exclusively for players 18 and older, providing a safe and friendly environment where you can unleash your creativity and forge long-lasting friendships.
🌍 Explore and Create:
Unlimited Creativity: From massive mega builds to cozy cottages, Etheria SMP is your canvas. Build whatever your imagination dreams up!
Regular Events: Participate in exciting events and challenges that keep the gameplay fresh and rewarding.
Active Rewards: Stay engaged and be rewarded for your contributions to the community.
💎 Thriving Diamond Economy:
Player-Made Shops: Set up your own shop and trade with other players using our diamond-based economy. Buy, sell, and barter to your heart’s content.
Economic Growth: Participate in a bustling marketplace where your creativity can translate into economic success.
🤝 Community First:
Warm and Welcoming: Etheria SMP prides itself on being a friendly and inclusive space where everyone can feel at home.
Build Friendships: Connect with like-minded adults who share your passion for Minecraft and create memories that will last a lifetime.
Be Yourself: We celebrate individuality and encourage you to express yourself through your builds and interactions.
LGBTQ+ Friendly: Etheria SMP is an inclusive community that celebrates diversity and ensures everyone feels respected and valued.
📹 Content Creator Friendly:
Stream and Record: Whether you're a streamer, YouTuber, or aspiring content creator, Etheria SMP is the perfect backdrop for your content.
Collaborate: Team up with other creators in the community to produce exciting and unique content.
🔒 Exclusive Access:
Whitelisted Server: Enjoy a secure and trustworthy environment with handpicked members who value respect and camaraderie.
18+ Only: Join a mature community of adults who understand the balance between fun and respectful gameplay.
🚀 Get Started Today:
Apply for Whitelist: Message me to join our discord and receive the application for whitelist.
Join the Fun: Dive into a world of endless possibilities and start building your dreams!
Etheria SMP is more than just a Minecraft server; it’s a place to belong. Come for the game, stay for the community. Your next adventure begins here!
See you in Etheria! 🌟

Hey guys, very new to the home-tech world as we are really old school. After a recent incident with a neighbor cutting down a bush on our property, I've decided I want a security camera on our house. I'm having trouble finding what I want though:

• Need it to be wired, as I can easily wire it where I want it and don't want to deal with batteries
  
• Want something that constantly records and maybe just overwrites itself every week or something, kind of like a dash cam. No need for motion activated as we have constant wildlife that I don't care to catch every 20 minutes here
  
• Would prefer no subscription but if it's something cheap like < $5 a month I can do that
  

Does this exist? I don't need any other fancy features. I appreciate the suggestions!

Spare miscs
s after the name = displayable item
Irradiated Bonemeal s
Red rocked core s
Uplink Module s
Flight Recorder s
Module Instructions s
Uniform Voucher s
Fire breather kit ticket s
Potassium s
Phosphorus s
Nitrogen s
"Evidence" s
Robot Part
Poison Supply s
Buffout Supply s
Albino Radstag Blood s
Army Training Graduation Papers s
Serum Z
Beckett's Belongings s
Bobby Pin Box s
Bolton Greens Centerpiece
Bolton Greens Place Settings
Broken Uplink
Cargo s
Claim Token s
Commendation s
Creature Attractant Recipe s
Creature Deterrent Recipe s
Dove Necklace s
Devil's Blood Vial s
Earle's Pocket Watch
Dry Kindling
Damaged Mainframe Core s
Edwin's Diary s
Edwin's Key s
Eugene's Letter
Feral Ghoul Blood Sample s
Graveyard Shovel s
Greens
Growth Enhancer Recipe s
Growth Suppressor Recipe s
Heating Coil s
Inert Bombs s
Irradiated Ore s
Item for Allay s
Lou's Remote Detonator s
Luca's Explosives a
Mainframe Core s
Moist Radkelp s
Mole Rad Blood Sample a
Mr. Fuzzy Token s
Nuka cade token s
Nuka-World Toy Truck
Osmosis Kit s
Portable Power Pack s
Pressure Gauge s
Scanner Upgrade s
Solvent Attractant s
Solvent Deterrent s
Solvent Enhancer s
Solvent Suppressor s
Strange Book s
Toad Eye
Token s
Toxic Barrel
Toxic Sludge
Trench Mask s
Type-T Fuse s
U.S.S.A. Beacon s
U.S.S.A. Crew Dog Tags
Unstable Mixture s
Uplink
Valid Ballot s
Weapon case
Wolf blood sample s

Are you looking for a vibrant, creative, and supportive Minecraft community? Look no further! Etheria SMP is designed exclusively for players 18 and older, providing a safe and friendly environment where you can unleash your creativity and forge long-lasting friendships.
🌍 Explore and Create:
Unlimited Creativity: From massive mega builds to cozy cottages, Etheria SMP is your canvas. Build whatever your imagination dreams up!
Regular Events: Participate in exciting events and challenges that keep the gameplay fresh and rewarding.
Active Rewards: Stay engaged and be rewarded for your contributions to the community.
💎 Thriving Diamond Economy:
Player-Made Shops: Set up your own shop and trade with other players using our diamond-based economy. Buy, sell, and barter to your heart’s content.
Economic Growth: Participate in a bustling marketplace where your creativity can translate into economic success.
🤝 Community First:
Warm and Welcoming: Etheria SMP prides itself on being a friendly and inclusive space where everyone can feel at home.
Build Friendships: Connect with like-minded adults who share your passion for Minecraft and create memories that will last a lifetime.
Be Yourself: We celebrate individuality and encourage you to express yourself through your builds and interactions.
LGBTQ+ Friendly: Etheria SMP is an inclusive community that celebrates diversity and ensures everyone feels respected and valued.
📹 Content Creator Friendly:
Stream and Record: Whether you're a streamer, YouTuber, or aspiring content creator, Etheria SMP is the perfect backdrop for your content.
Collaborate: Team up with other creators in the community to produce exciting and unique content.
🔒 Exclusive Access:
Whitelisted Server: Enjoy a secure and trustworthy environment with handpicked members who value respect and camaraderie.
18+ Only: Join a mature community of adults who understand the balance between fun and respectful gameplay.
🚀 Get Started Today:
Apply for Whitelist: Message me to join our discord and receive the application for whitelist.
Join the Fun: Dive into a world of endless possibilities and start building your dreams!
Etheria SMP is more than just a Minecraft server; it’s a place to belong. Come for the game, stay for the community. Your next adventure begins here!
See you in Etheria! 🌟

Thanks to Pew and Redon for confirming it

• The chapter begins with more reactions from people around the world to Vegapunk's words.
• Vegapunk says that the Poneglyphs are historical records that tell of a huge battle that took place during the Void Century.
• Vegapunk says that it was also a battle between 2 types of “ideas” but he can't say for sure who was right and who was wrong.
• Mars uses his Conqueror Haki to knock out a multitude of Den Den Mushi.
• Nusjuro cuts Punk Records in half with a huge attack and releases the Seraphims.
• Vegapunk says Joyboy's defeat marked the end of the void century.
• But war changed the world and the continents that existed 1000 years ago were sunk when the sea level rised by 200 meters.
• Vegapunk says they live in fragments of those continents.
• He says the war hasn't ended yet, and the ancient weapons will be important in this war.
• We see Imu's face in the last page (still in shadows).

The Next Wager Experts are verified professional sports bettors with verified picks records which are updated daily. More info can be found at thenextwager.com.
You can also read what people are saying in our main subreddit post.
These are the updated results of our professional handicappers.
About Us
Our experts are verified professional sports bettors. All bets are verified, tracked, and displayed on our official page for record keeping. Most of our experts have been barred from reputable sportsbooks so this is a way for them to make income while helping the average sports bettor make money.
Ashton Decker (NHL): (0-0 Yesterday) (Overall Record: 438 wins-256 losses = 63.11%)
Leo O'Connell (MLB): (2-0 Yesterday) (Overall Record: 374 wins-217 losses = 63.28%)
Andrew Reid (NBA): (0-0 Yesterday) (Overall Record: 407 wins-273 losses = 59.85%)
Carlos Garcia (Soccer): (1-0 Yesterday) (Overall Record: 653 wins-386 losses = 62.85%)
Please let us know if you spot any errors. FAQ

• Are these betting experts verified? We thoroughly vet all of our betting experts to ensure their credibility and expertise. Each expert undergoes a stringent verification process, which includes evaluating their track record, background, and knowledge in the field. This ensures that our platform only features reputable and reliable betting professionals.
  
• How are the betting experts records measured and displayed? To maintain transparency and accuracy, experts must submit their picks to us simultaneously as they share them with their clients. We then evaluate and grade their performance the following day. This information is updated and displayed on our website and reddit, ensuring that you have access to a clear, unbiased view of each experts performance history.
  
• How will I be notified when a new pick is posted by an expert? Picks will be emailed to the email you used to register.
  
• How can I trust that your platform is genuine and reliable? We prioritize transparency and open communication to build trust within our community. We maintain an active presence on our official subreddit, where we encourage users to engage in discussions, ask questions, and even call us out if they spot any discrepancies or concerns. This level of openness demonstrates our commitment to integrity and ensures that our platform is held accountable for delivering reliable betting advice.
  
• Why dont they just bet their own games rather than sell them? While we cannot speak for every expert, many of them have experienced limitations or closures of their betting accounts by sportsbooks due to their consistent winning records. By selling their picks, these experts can generate an alternative source of income and continue to pursue their passion for sports betting, all while helping others benefit from their expertise.
  
• Can I be sure that Ill profit from following these experts? ports betting inherently involves risks, and we cannot guarantee that you'll always make money. What we do ensure is that our experts invest substantial time and effort into analyzing each pick before sharing it. By following their advice, you're leveraging their expertise to make informed betting decisions, which can improve your chances of success in the long run. However, remember that there are no guarantees, and it's essential to gamble responsibly.
  
• How can I ask a question or provide feedback? Feel free to email us at support@thenextwager.com
  

Sometimes a feel like I’m cheating at life or some divine benevolent force has made a mistake and blessed me with peace I don’t deserve. Things have been relatively easy, but I’ve never doubted or questioned the decision to give up drinking from the beginning. I was accused of something very shameful at my ‘rock bottom’ 7 months ago, and the thought of even the possibility of that event taking place has served as a turning point for the rest of my life. Or at least I’ve chosen to use that as a turning point for the rest of my life.
There is light after darkness and everyone loves a comeback story. Things keep getting better, my body keeps healing and getting stronger. I keep myself busy by slowly plodding forward and working towards my goals. The passage of time becomes your friend when you practice healthy habits.
Everyone in my life was really worried about me at the beginning, but now I suspect they may be getting a little tired of hearing about my successes, my positivity. Respectfully, though. No one in my life isn’t proud and extremely happy for me. I just sound like a broken record because of the banality of my day-to-day, lately. Work, grad school, running, yoga, quiet introspection, peace, reading, cats, hopes and dreams for the future, wholesome hobbies, early bedtimes…
At 7 months, I’d like to again remind myself that I’m the luckiest damn idiot in the whole world and all the right conditions in my life converged to form the perfect storm that has led to my sobriety and I’m so grateful for that.
So cheers! Cheers to clarity and slow consistent change! Cheers to boredom and freedom and time spent alone!

[To view the original post, click here]
If you’re a musician, then you’re a spiritual person.
You may call yourself an atheist…. or an agnostic…. or Frank, whatever you prefer.
But you’re a spiritual person nonetheless.
Because according to the definition that I just made up in my head as I typed this, spirituality is anything that aspires towards the truth.
Now, you may say this isn’t your goal. You may even be openly running away from problems in your own life. You may even believe that life is inherently meaningless or absurd.
But in music, I am certain you are seeking the truth.
Even you, my jaded friends, the very fact that you’re reading this post is because somewhere in you……….the ember of belief still burns.****
(***Just a heads up, if you aren’t resonating at this point, this will be a very uncomfortable read for you…)
“Now Michael, how do you know I’m seeking the truth? You’re just a man I don’t really know very well…”
I know because I feel the exact same way when I make music.
But the moment the recording light on my phone starts blinking (is that a thing?), whatever truth I aspire towards slips through my fingers.***
(****For those not picking up on this vibe, really appreciate you giving it a shot but this Substack is probably just gonna be more of this… so thanks for coming out!)
--------------------------------------------------------
The other day, I tried to film a YouTube video.
I was gonna talk about music business news and give my thoughts, and in my head, it was beautiful.
I was funny but serious. Authoritative, but also kinda in on the joke. Post-ironic and good spirited.
Me and Preston (who lived in the podcast studio for a brief period of time to get this label off the ground🫡) set up the cameras and got the set looking nice.
I was going to talk about the Universal Music and TikTok dispute. I had some hot takes I wanted to share, and I was ready to spit some facts.
I figured a series talking about music business would be a cool way to align my interest in business with my passion for music. Our parent company (long live the mothership, Mastering.com ⚔️) has a large following on YouTube, so they offered to help me launch the new series.
Preston (🫡 ) printed the earnings reports and had them on my sick looking executive desk (actually $40 on FB marketplace). I even bought those swinging clackers (or Newton’s cradle for chumps) to make my desk look extra slick.
I turned to Preston, and said “let’s rock and roll” or something like that.
Preston hit RECORD.
I took off at a casual but lively gate. I hit a well timed planned joke early and I was hand-gesturing at a steady clip.
I had prepared what I would say a few times in my head… but pretty quickly I started having a hard time stitching the ideas together.
A stumble, a recovery…….. a joke, a nervous laugh! ….a thought about the nervous laugh, a thought about the thought about the nervous laugh….blank…..blank……. darkness……
And before I knew it, whatever truth I was about to bear down on the world evaporated above me.
After about 5 minutes, like a car steaming from the hood, I pulled the show over to the side of the road and shut her down.
I turned to Preston (🫡) and said “oh my gosh this is boring as sh**”.
I was like Walter Cronkite without the believability, charm, or dashing good looks… I had all the pizzaz of an (unsalted) Saltine cracker.
Anyways it was very bad, and I knew it.
And not in the self-pity way… it just clearly wasn’t my thing. I have an interview podcast which felt pretty natural from Day 1, but for some reason when I’m talking to the camera I couldn’t relax.
I knew it would be very bad for a while until I improved.
Now…. I believed I could get good at it if I just put in the time and the effort. But “being good on camera” was never something I wanted to get good at.
I just wanted to be myself and share (what I hoped) was the truth.
I turned to Preston (🫡 )and I said:
“This was a failure, I must go home now.”
A man of my word, I went home and I told my wife what happened, to which she replied:
“yeah I could’ve told you that you would’ve hated filming a YouTube video.”
She was right. She’s always right. And I mean that sincerely.
--------------------------------------------------------
After the sharp sting of a failure wore off, I re-examined how I could promote Mad Records in a way that aligned my interest in business with my passion for music (my original goal with the YouTube video.)
And that night, I started this Substack.
I talked about the UMG / TikTok dispute, and it felt really natural. I was able to write freely, make edits, take breaks, and strive for the truth. I even got to hang out with my sweet 12-year old Maltese queen, Katie, while I wrote it. What a joy.
(You can check out that post here after you finish this!)
And unlike my crushed YouTube aspirations, my article turned out pretty ok - which was a good enough starting point for me.
SO WHAT’S THE POINT?
If you feel like your “content” isn’t capturing the deep, spiritual truth you’re aspiring for with your music, then you have two options:

1. Give yourself the time to improve. Be patient and expect no results in the meantime. If results happen, then congrats, you’re now good at that thing.
2. Give yourself grace for falling short of your vision, and find a different medium/method that captures it. Nurse your wounds with people who understand what you’re trying to accomplish.

There is always a way to share your creative vision in a way that aligns with your values.
You just have to build up a pain tolerance for failing publicly.
However, for the love of all things holy, please subscribe to this SubStack…. I can’t fail again I have plans this weekend.)
Long Live Mad Records ⚔️

• mike

I hate midlane mages. and top lane is terrible at the moment. So i have created a new strategy to deal with both these issues - Tank Sion Midlane.
The strategy goes Hard farm early until you can get Hollow radiance. try and stop the enemy mage laner from getting farm as much as you can. Once you get hollow radiance the lane is over for the enemy mage, their poke and all in potential is gone and you are free to farm away! poke them, push them under turret, ult them if they come to far out, ult other lanes if they play too safe, they cant do too much unless their jungler gives them lots of support atleast not for the first 20 odd minutes.
in my experience they will try and gank other lanes in anger which is extra good for us!, letting you crash into the enemy tower constantly and in a perfect world break the first 2 towers early in the game leaving you plenty of space to support your jungler and take over the map while they try to catch up.
For the record, this is a silly strategy that will likely not work against teams with even a few brain cells but how likely is that to occur. It also drops off pretty quickly so if your other lanes hard feed you will likely still fail no matter how hard you win. Also this strategy does not work so well into AD midlaners, tristana, zed, Vayne (in any lane really) so do not blind pick this strat. other than that have fun, give it a try
TLDR win the match by making the enemy Mage laner irrelevant then front line tanking for your team.

Let's talk about sound quality. It's kind of the bread and butter of podcasts, right? You can have the most epic ideas and killer content, but if your audio sounds like it was recorded in a tin can, well, let's just say those downloads might not exactly soar.
But fear not, fellow podcaster! You don't need a fancy studio setup to sound professional. There are some easy tricks to make your listeners feel like they're sitting right at the table with you (virtually, of course).
Here's the thing: I recently stumbled on this awesome guide that dives into using Riverside.fm for recording podcasts [The Podcast Haven article on Riverside.fm]. Apparently, this platform lets you record with crystal-clear audio, even with remote guests. No more dodgy phone calls or wrestling with different recording software. Intriguing, right?
On top of the tech tips, though, there are some solid golden rules for good audio:

• Location, Location, Location: Find a quiet space (adios, barking dogs and noisy roommates!).
• Mic Check, One Two: Invest in a decent microphone, even a basic USB mic can make a world of difference.
• Practice Makes Perfect: Record a test episode and listen back. Is there any background noise? Are the levels even?

Remember, you're aiming for natural-sounding audio, not some crazy studio polish. People listen to podcasts to connect, and a bit of warmth and character in your voice goes a long way.
Thanks!

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