4 months ago the most amazing person I ever met cheated on me with someone who was more muscular and better than me. Over those 4 months I did everything I could to change myself. 3 weeks ago I tried to get her back. I thought I was strong enough. I thought I was finally someone I could be proud of, and that no matter what happened, no matter who didn't want me, I would still have myself. But when she told me she didn't want me, it broke me.
I still think about her so much. I wrote a letter to her, explaining just how much she broke me. I wanted her to know. Maybe it's just my subconscious just wanting to talk to her again. Or maybe it's pride wanting to say them not because I wanted here to hear them bit because I deserved to be heard. J never sent the letter.
I wake up thinking about her. I go to sleep thinking about her. Willing the beautiful young woman I once knew to appear in my life again. But of course that will never happen. We've changed. Everything's changed. And there's no going back.
And it feels like there's no moving forward. Everything sucks. It feels like I will never be enough for any girl ever again. I can't be happy. Everytime I try to do something by myself there's a pain in my chest telling me there's something missing. Every round of a videogames, every page of a book, every night drive, every class lecture. I just wish I could tell someone who cared.
How can I ever trust someone again? How can I ever believe that someone loves me for who I am? And if I change myself, if one day I have an amazing impressive job that pays well (2 years into a nuclear engineering degree and planning to become a navy nuke), and I go to the gym and get buff, and I work on the tuner car of my dreams (subaru Sti or C3 coevette) how do I know that the person that's with me then loves me for me and not just for all this surface level shit? Because for both right now and on the future I am still me. and nobody wants me now, so why would that change?
I'm changing for the worse. I smoked cigarettes on my own for the first time. The pain of the smoke going down my throat masked the pain of bloody oozing infected scar left by my heart being sliced through and through. I've started becoming ferally defensive, yelling and having meaningless arguments qith my loving parents. I reject my friends asking me to play videogames. I eat like shit because I tell myself I deserve it. I masturbate too much because I tell myself that this is what lowlife do and I am a lowlife.
She cheated on me. Because I wasn't enough for her. And now my life feels meaningless, my future far off and my time invaluable, so why not just go ahead and throw it all away? Nobody cares about me anyways. Never have, never will.

Alright, I've heard a lot of discussion and concerns regarding the antipiracy measures of Earthbound. Stuff like it wipes your save file once you get to the second phase of Giygas, or that it ramps enemy encounters to absurd levels. This is true, this is a thing if you use pirated copies of the game. However, this only affects those who used cartridge copiers on an SNES. This does not affect those who use emulators (unless you use a really bad emulator or horribly misconfigured somehow, or unless you somehow have an absurdly bad dump). Modern emulators easily bypass this. Besides, the checks were not made in mind for those who use emulators anyway. After doing a quick bit of research, SNES emulation did start around 1994, although it wasn't really good for running commercial games, but much better for homebrew. It wasn't until a few years after Earthbound came out that emulation actually became somewhat good, like had sound and ran at good framerates, so I doubt that Nintendo really cared that much about emulation.
That said, going by TCRF's article on the game, I can still break down the layers of antipiracy to help show that it won't affect emulation.
Layer 1 (Simple region check): This is just simple enough, and if anything, was likely designed to impede people from downloading ROMs of a different region and using it on their copier device. Obviously, it's not hard for emulators to just pretend to be whatever region is needed (some have automatic region detection anyway)
Layer 2 (SRAM check): If that doesn't turn out to be an issue, this is clearly the first real attempt at cartridge copiers. Obviously, the creators of the game were well aware of people renting or borrowing games, like from a store or from a friend, so this is clearly designed to prevent people from just downloading the data and putting it into their copier and calling it a day where they effectively produced a new copy. As for what the check does, it checks how much SRAM (which is where save data is stored) the cartridge has. The correct answer should be 8kb. Of course, since by the very nature of copiers (since they can hold more than 1 game) would hold more than 8kb, it would report the larger number and the game would notice that something isn't right. Emulators can get around this by creating a file that makes the game report that it has the correct amount.
Layer 3 (enemy encounters): This is the one I see mentioned a lot, where people show a screenshot of the game and ask if the copy protection is active. In most cases, it isn't, a lot of areas just simply have a lot of enemies. It's possible that it may be active if you find enemies in places that they shouldn't, like the player's house or Saturn Valley. According to TCRF, it checks to see if the previous 2 layers had their checks disabled. If they have been disabled, then that would be what activates this layer. Of course, unless you have a bad ROM or something is seriously wrong with your emulator (or unless you trigger it on purpose like with hacking the game), As mentioned, it would put you against enemies with absurd stats or weird items like dropping backstage passes (or downright crash). If you aren't seeing that kind of thing, your game is most likely fine. Now, again, a lot of areas simply do have a lot of enemies, but if you are seeing enemies in places where they genuinely don't belong, then that might be cause for concern. Again though, since emulators won't do anything that would require the ROM to be modified, this layer will not go off. With memory hacking or cheat device codes, you can deliberately enable this on purpose if you wanted, but otherwise, you likely won't see it.
Layer 4 (currently unknown): It's not currently known what this layer does, but during a normal playthrough, it gets called 6 times, something to do with SRAM.
Layer 5 (crash and save wipe): Countless resources have mentioned this too, leading paranoid players to believe that this will happen to them. Like the 3rd layer, this simply checks to see if the other layers have been bypassed, including that one. Once again, because emulators (at least anything actually modern) won't need to touch anything that would cause the layers to go off, this won't happen. Especially with virtual console, the SNES mini or SNES online. I'm quite sure that if anything like that did happen to one of their emulators, there would be a lot of work put into in order to address an issue of that size.
The tl;dr version is that your game is most likely fine regardless of how you got it. Unless you are using some really weird emulator that handles things in ways that it shouldn't, you're fine. I myself have played it a few times with Snes9x on PC as well as the homebrew emulator Snes9x_3ds and have never seen any issues.
I really hope that this helps people who are concerned that they got the antipiracy screens of this game. Although I can certainly understand the fear of suddenly losing progress that you put well over 10+ hours into, I assure you that it's not likely for you to run into any antipiracy related issue, and I hope you enjoy the game.

Even before he really knew what it meant, Allen Wong wanted to be rich. As a kid, he didn’t yet equate the word with “luxury” or “status” or “expensive things.” He didn’t think wealth would bring him 85-inch televisions and Jacuzzis, a one-of-a-kind rose-gold Lamborghini in the garage, a wearable Iron Man suit that shoots lasers — though he does, actually, have all of that now. What “rich” seemed to dangle was something simpler, more elementary, more a feeling than anything else: freedom from pain.
Wong’s parents had fled poverty — at one point, his father used tennis balls as flotation devices to illicitly cross waters from Guangzhou into Hong Kong — in order to raise a family in a more opportune land. But growing up in New York City, Wong watched one parent peddle medicinal herbs all day long while the other toiled away in a Chinatown sweatshop. They barely had time to slough off one workday before trudging into the next.
“I didn’t want my life to end up like that,” he told me. “I didn’t want to be absent from my family and only show up a few hours each day after work. I didn’t want my life to be monotonous and stuck in a repeating loop until I die.”
Then, in 2008, right as he was graduating from college, the family convulsed. Wong’s father was ousted from his business, sank into a depression and committed suicide; his mother tripped down a spiral of mental illness. Suddenly, Wong’s entry-level computer programming job was the household’s only source of income, and there was a world financial crisis going on. He had always dreamed about digging out of the middle-class quagmire — striking gold, pulling in enough money from a one-off idea that he would never have to work the way his parents did. But it was now, as anxiety and medical bills piled up, that those idle daydreams began to feel urgent and necessary. So he turbocharged his ambitions. He started coding around the clock, tinkering on D.I.Y. software ideas whenever he wasn’t at work, barely sleeping. He doggedly pushed one project after another to the App Store, praying for something to take off.
Eventually, one did: an app that let users tune in to police scanners around the world. Then another. Their runaway success took even him by surprise. By the time his peers were splurging on their first West Elm sofas, he was a self-made multimillionaire.
Wong found his day job interesting enough, and he liked his colleagues. But submitting himself to a boss’s whims, spending his days trapped like a houseplant under corporate fluorescence, grated at him; it reminded him too much of his parents’ suffering. What, he wondered, could a so-called career really offer him if he had already secured enough money for a good life? The whole point of working was to get what he had just gotten. So, at 25, he bought a $250,000 sports car painted a shimmery lime green — it wasn’t so crazy a purchase, he reasoned, because his police-scanner app was by then generating that amount of revenue in a single month — and announced that he was retiring forever.
It was only after he bought a second exotic car, a five-bedroom house in Celebration, Fla., a dog and a Disney World annual pass for his mother that Wong learned that there was an entire online community of people seeking to do what he had just done. Wong had heard of the Financial Independence Retire Early (FIRE) movement before, but he didn’t think it really applied to him because of its focus on frugality. FIRE got its start in the early 2000s with a mantra of extreme saving — you may remember hearing about stoic ultraminimalists living off beans and friends’ couches — but it has since come to include all the people who would like to exit the work force on their own terms, at an age of their own choosing, rather than hustling for a paycheck all the way into their 60s. After Wong made a Reddit post sharing his story, it attracted such a flurry from FIRE adherents that he quickly became the quasi president of one of the group’s biggest online enclaves.
Some FIRE aspirants still get to early retirement by the traditional route of simply saving madly. Others, though, truffle-hunt for high-paying W-2s, tax loopholes, bold and risky market bets or big entrepreneurial ploys like Wong’s. The overarching credo of FIRE is that in today’s unpredictable financial landscape, 9-to-5s and decades-long careers have become bad investments: Old-school benefits like pensions and job security are a thing of the past, and wages aren’t even keeping up with the galloping pace of inflation. According to a 2023 survey, one-quarter of Americans would like to retire before age 50. After decades of tolerating workaholic culture as the norm, employees are tired, unafraid to show it and yearning to yank back control of their lives. To fed-up workers willing to do a little bit of math, FIRE offers a straightforward antidote: You can just leave it all behind.
Like Wong, and like so many other people who chase financial independence, I didn’t grow up with a lot of money — which might be why I became obsessed with it.
Long before “side hustle” became Merriam-Webster lingo, I was working Costco snack arbitrage on the elementary-school playground and hawking homemade bookmarks to my teachers. In adulthood, I moved on to online surveys, research studies, plasma donation, vintage resale, parts modeling and dog-sitting in other people’s homes in lieu of paying rent. I have left no income source unturned. I’ve trawled every page of NerdWallet and The Points Guy. I have made questionable margin calls. I have woken up at the crack of dawn to day-trade $NVDA, $TSLA, $TSM. I have “flipped”; I have “churned.” When I feel sad, I open my phone to check on the interest rates in the five-pronged CD ladder I’ve lovingly assembled in my Marcus account, like a tic, to feel better.
Come on, Kids. Let’s Grab Drinks. ImageWong in his Ironman suit standing next to the bathtub. Wong created a police-scanner app that was so popular that it allowed him to retire at 25.Credit...Maggie Shannon for The New York Times Is this all embarrassing to confess? Incredibly so. Would I characterize my relationship to money as “unhealthy”? Also yes. But I often wonder if anybody in this economy, in this country — where more than 60 percent of the work force lives paycheck to paycheck, where the average American is in five- to six-figure debt and often has only cursory knowledge of how he or she got there — has a healthy relationship to money. Simply learning to understand your own finances can feel, several FIRErs said to me, like acquiring a “secret weapon.”
The original FIRE doctrine revolves around delay of gratification. Save your money — ideally as much as 50 to 75 percent of each paycheck — instead of spending it immediately, and when you’ve amassed enough of a nest egg, quit your job and take the rest of your life for yourself. “It’s simple, because the main principles fit on a Post-it note,” Jacob Lund Fisker, a Danish former astrophysicist who is often thought of as the father of the FIRE movement, told me. “However, it is not easy, because everything the typical middle-class consumer has been raised and trained to believe goes against these principles. People have grown up associating success with money and spending money with happiness. They’ve been trained to sit still and perform repetitive work, first by a teacher, then by a manager. They’ve been educated to be specialists in a narrow field and never think outside that box.”
Fisker’s 2010 book, “Early Retirement Extreme” — written mostly while he lived out of an R.V. on $7,000 a year — is one seminal text for early retirees. Two others are “Your Money or Your Life,” a 1992 personal-finance bible written by Joseph R. Dominguez and Vicki Robin, and the blog Mr. Money Mustache, started in 2011 by Peter Adeney, who retired from his software-engineering job in 2005 at age 30 and figured out how to shrink his family’s expenses down to just $24,000 a year. The tao of all three tomes is that minimalist spending and anti-consumption can offer the keys to better living. (Adeney has professed to be “really just trying to get rich people to stop destroying the planet,” but his tens of thousands of monthly visitors tend to be more fixated on his other mantra: “Make you rich so you can retire early.”)
Conventional FIRE adherents are not necessarily big earners or genius mathematicians with incredible impulse control. Their superpower is their expert planning; it’s the ability to see the finish line from miles away that has allowed even some minimum-wage workers to achieve early retirement. One simple FIRE rule of thumb is to first calculate your target “FI number” by multiplying anticipated annual retirement expenses by at least 25, and then squirrel away as much as possible into interest-accruing or tax-advantaged buckets like 401(k)s, low-fee index funds, certificates of deposit, HSAs and Roth IRAs until you hit that number. As an example, if you bring home $150,000 a year, can save half of that and plan to spend $50,000 per year in retirement, then it will take only 16.5 years before you can kiss your job goodbye. For those who earn less or spend more, it will take longer — but for still others who can endure greater sacrifices, FIRE can be possible as early as their 30s.
From these plain origins, many offshoots of FIRE have sprouted up — some much more brazen than others. It’s rare to find anyone these days who actually wants to get to early retirement by living off beans; those people, with their stringent penny-pinching, are largely known in the community as LeanFIRE. A lot more people aim for CoastFIRE (a more measured approach that involves front-loading your retirement savings and “coasting” on compound interest and working lightly until you’re ready to quit) or BaristaFIRE (quitting your job but buttressing your retirement with a side gig, such as that of a part-time barista, to receive health-insurance benefits) or FatFIRE (a luxurious, no-sacrifice approach to retirement, the polar opposite of LeanFIRE — and the subset to which Wong belongs).
You might be tempted to regard early retirees as layabouts, soaking up sunshine while everyone else toils. But why not see them as brave maniacs, daring to build an entirely new vision of the world? Retirement has long been framed as a reward for a job well done — social reformers started pushing for mandatory post-work benefits in the early 20th century, and policies like Social Security later codified the tipping point between labor and leisure — but if FIRE’s incredible popularity of late (the Fire subreddit alone boasts nearly half a million members) is a defiant reaction to economic hardship, then it’s also a plea to re-evaluate the centrality of work to modern living. Maybe, the movement suggests, we should have always been in it for ourselves, and nobody else, from the start.
To my left was a woman who runs a phone-sex hotline; to my right, a cruise operator, a disaster-response volunteer, a kitchen-appliance entrepreneur, a public-school teacher and a former Off Broadway actor who now lives out of the back of an 18-wheeler and puts 70 percent of her weekly paycheck into index funds. It was a chilly spring weekend, and we had all flown to Cincinnati for EconoMe, an annual all-flavors-of-FIRE conference in which hundreds of people of all ages, from all over, bandy about tips on financial independence from dawn to dusk. The point of FIRE meetups — EconoMe is the largest, but others take place all over the world, some of them at a monthly clip — is only partly to give fiscal advice. Every person’s retirement plan is a highly individualized choreography, after all, so the manifold workshops and breakout groups are meant to offer only high-level ideas. The broader purpose of these get-togethers is more a sort of group therapy, geared to help people achieve their common goals and forge through their common struggles.
Much of the crowd was timid but curious — like Laura Rojo-Eddy, who decided on a whim to fly out from Texas. “My family doesn’t know anything about FIRE,” she told me. “I’ve been really shy talking about it. It’s hard to talk about finances with strangers, but in a way it’s even harder with people you love.” She chanced upon the movement in 2021 via a former colleague’s LinkedIn post, which made her consider for the first time that she may not have to work until the standard age of 65. The friend “posted she was retiring thanks to FIRE, and I was like: That’s really cool! But what the hell is she talking about? And, holy crap, this person’s my age — 40 — and what if I could do that? Should I do that?”
At EconoMe, bank-account totals were traded more freely than phone numbers. The conference’s organizer, Diania Merriam (retired at 33), introduced speakers like Jeremy Schneider (retired at 36), who spoke about how to pick a good financial adviser; the retired divorce lawyer Aaron Thomas, who evangelized the importance of prenups; the real estate tax strategist Natalie Kolodij, who discussed real estate investing and recommended employing your children starting from the age they are able to do household chores, which offers a double benefit of reducing a parent’s taxable income while building an investment-accruing tax shelter for the 7-year-old. Stephanie Zito’s two-hour seminar on the nitty-gritty of “travel hacking,” a.k.a. traversing the world through strategic deployment of credit-card points, had the crowd on the edge of their seats.
In one morning session, a brave volunteer named Krista put her life’s “balance sheet” up on a big screen so that 500 strangers could critique it for blind spots. She is 35, with four kids ages 16, 15, 9 and 7, and makes $32,000 working in a library in Wisconsin. Over the last seven years, since discovering FIRE, she and her husband had slowly paid off $200,000 in credit-card and home- and auto-loan debt. But she knew, she said, humbly dipping her head a bit, that she still had a long way to go, especially when compared with all the younger, already-retired millionaires in the room.
“Wait a second,” Frank Vasquez, one of the conference’s speakers, interrupted. “No. Do you all see this? Krista was a teenage mom who grew up in poverty. We are looking, right now, at a map of a hero’s journey.”
Jackie Cummings Koski of Dayton, Ohio, grew up on food stamps, learned about FIRE in her early 40s and retired at 49 with $1.3 million in savings.Credit...Brian Kaiser for The New York Times During a break, Jackie Cummings Koski, an Ohio local, shared her story with me: She grew up on food stamps and had a “wake-up call” with money after an acrimonious divorce left her a single mother. She learned about FIRE in her early 40s. Newly enlightened, she started saving 40 percent of the salary from her five-figure job, reached financial independence at 47 and pulled the trigger on retirement at 49, with $1.3 million in savings. “My corporate job had nothing to do with what I want to do,” Koski told me. “I didn’t hate it, but I didn’t love it.” She added: “While most FIRE people brag about having an old car with 200,000 miles or whatever, I drive a luxury car. But nobody’s going to chastise me, because I still retired early, even with that car, even with having made some mistakes!” Koski spends her time nowadays creating financial content and advocating for personal-finance classes to be added to high schools, and she recently wrote a “FIRE for Dummies” manual.
To my surprise, a sizable portion of the FIRE crowd at EconoMe was older. This wasn’t so surprising to Bill Yount, a 58-year-old retired physician who recently started up a podcast with Koski and another friend, Becky Heptig, that speaks to older demographics. “The average American is a late starter,” Yount told me. “That’s just who we are, living in this consumption society and not having the mentality of saving often or early.” And things are no longer “9-to-5, 40 years and a gold watch” the way they were for his parents’ generation: “I’m not in the gold-watch generation. Gen X got lost, got forgotten.”
Heptig, who is 68, found herself in dire financial straits in her 50s, when her husband’s small business faltered. “I got really scared, thinking we will never get out of this debt and we will never retire,” she says. They took a course from the financial-advice radio host Dave Ramsey, and her husband signed up for a W-2 job. After that, they started saving madly. “We were net-worth zero at 50 years old, and he retired at 63 — so for us, where we started from, we consider ourselves retiring early,” Heptig says. She had made the same wild discovery that everyone in FIRE does: that it can really take as little as a decade to hit early retirement, from the moment you learn about it and start planning. But as Yount put it to me: “You don’t know what you don’t know. You don’t even know to go looking for it.”
Maybe it’s because I know too much about looking for money that I found myself, while reporting this article, especially drawn to the subculture of FatFIRE — and to the lavish, unapologetic, in-your-face money philosophy that Allen Wong and others of his ilk prefer. FatFIRE flies in the face of all the other variants of FIRE. It is anti-anticonsumption. Its typical benchmark is to accumulate enough wealth that you can comfortably spend at least $100,000 a year in retirement, but some highfliers aim for much, much bigger sums. It espouses an unbridled maximalism, a have-it-all abundance.
While most other FIRE communities steer toward the friendly and pragmatic, FatFIRE’s adherents tend to be jaded, brusque, laser-focused. They hunt for the “exit,” in the tech-world manner of speaking: a fast, lucrative way out. On the FatFIRE subreddit, aspirants ogle severance packages, geo-arbitrage, REIT, tax loopholes, high-risk options straddles and potential business moonshots. Successful FatFIRErs applaud one another for hitting double-digit-millions net worth, debate the merits of private jets versus second homes and agonize over how large a trust fund is ethical to set up for their kids. And just as Fisker and Adeney were beacons to early-era FIRE devotees, Allen Wong is FatFIRE’s mythic hero.
Wong is quiet and unassuming in person. When I finally met him this spring — three years after we first began chatting online — near his childhood home in Queens, he wore jeans, Asics and a wary self-consciousness. Now in his mid-30s, he has comfortably enjoyed nearly a decade of leisure; he spends the bulk of his days playing pickleball and counseling strangers online on how to follow in his footsteps. He’s not particularly interested in fame, so he posts, as the senior moderator of FatFIRE, under his app company’s name. For someone who is a living talisman against the tenets of conventional living, he speaks with a surprising calm — though his eyes flashed with a certain pride whenever we talked about his childhood or his father. Even though it sprouted up only seven years ago, FatFIRE is on the verge of overtaking FIRE in size, Wong told me. Membership doubled during the pandemic despite moderators’ intentionally hiding the forum from Reddit’s homepage, he said, showing me a graph, and he added that most of its members seem to be “early-career American men.”
This makes sense. Millennials may have been ushered into the work force with the encouragement to hustle, but we soon found ourselves jerked around by utterly unaffordable housing, pandemic layoffs, salaries that flopped flat while costs went stratosphere-high. Nearly half of young adults have “money dysphoria,” according to a recent survey from the personal-finance company Credit Karma. Online, trends like “quiet luxury” and “dupe culture” glorify totems of wealth while making it clear how depressingly inaccessible that echelon is for the average Joe. If the recent “antiwork” movement laid bare the disillusionment of the young work force, then FatFIRE represents those feelings put into action.
Some FatFIRE success stories are like Wong’s: a result of obsessive entrepreneurism. Just as many are a byproduct of grinding away at a regular, albeit high-earning, job for enough years. (Fisker, for one, argues that FatFIRE is just an aesthetic rebranding of the work-smart-not-hard ethos that has been woven throughout American history.) In San Francisco, Sam Dogen faithfully saved his finance-job paychecks for 13 years before retiring in 2012 to live off passive investment income. He initially budgeted $100,000 for him and his wife to spend per year, but they upped the target to $200,000 after having their first child, then to $300,000 after a second child — and recently again to $350,000 to account for the recent bout of unchecked inflation. “We choose to live in an expensive coastal city and choose to have two children,” Dogen told me. “But you look at the $300,000 budget I made for a family of four, and you’re like, This is a pretty middle-class lifestyle. FatFIRE is almost a necessity if you want to live in San Francisco.”
“I think more people should aim for FatFIRE, because even if you don’t hit it, you’ll be at regular FIRE,” Jeff Underwood, a San Diego-based FatFIRE aspirant who started chasing financial independence after he lost his house and sank $10,000 into debt, told me. “The idea of LeanFIRE makes me super nervous. Health care costs are going up. There are all these unknowns. You could really find yourself in trouble.” Through smart tips he picked up on financial-planning forums, Underwood’s net worth steadily climbed from $0 in 2011 to $1 million in 2023. He is drawn to FatFIRE’s cheeky energy and its emphasis on securing a big safety net: “I had spent so long in the survival mind-set,” he says. “My default position is to plan for the worst, because I’ve already been through the worst.”
Wong now splits most of his time between houses in Celebration, Fla., and in New York City. He wakes up early to play pickleball and can keep at it for hours if the weather is nice. Because he has so much free time to practice, he has gotten good enough to compete against elite players and coach novices. (He offered to teach me how to play, but it was a wind-whipped 35 degrees when we met up in early April, so we went to have soup dumplings instead.) Otherwise, he reads up on tech and cybersecurity news, plays video games and undertakes home-renovation projects. His houses have been burglarized three times, although he managed to halt the latest attempt with a self-programmed alarm system. He used to make videos about his exotic car collection on YouTube, a few of which went viral, but he grew tired of being a “content creator” because it felt too much like having a job. Plus, he had already done the whole rack-up-a-huge-number thing before — with money.
“It was as if I fast-forwarded through an entire movie, and the end credits are slowly rolling,” Wong told me recently, recalling his first, restless years in retirement. “There was nothing more to watch, and all my peers were still busy watching the movie that I already finished. After I traveled the world and had done just about every possible fun thing I could possibly do, I often found myself wondering, What now?”
Life after early retirement: the elephant in the room. What to do after the cruises, the skydiving, the teetering stack of books on the night stand? The main danger of FIRE is that you might be running hard away from something rather than toward it — that you’re propelled only by the too-nebulous idea of escape. And then, even for those who lay out a clear road map for decades of nirvana, the loneliness can eat at you.
That’s why some, like Merriam, EconoMe’s organizer, host regular social events in their local cities. The online community ChooseFI maintains a sprawling network of hundreds of local FIRE groups in cities around the world. Amy Minkley, who retired by working in Asia as a teacher and saving up to $90,000 of her salary each year, organizes an annual FIRE meetup in Bali as a way of keeping up the community that saved her from depression: “It just felt like someone had thrown me a life raft, and I could see the light at the end of the tunnel,” she told me.
A lot of other people go the Mr. Money Mustache route: They blog. Their posts about income spreadsheets and VTSAX returns then attract the like-minded, as potential friends or even lovers. Koski has heard of romances blossoming among fellow FIRErs — though many of them prefer the company of a FIRE Luddite. “A good chunk of my friends are on my phone,” Gwen Merz, who began saving up for FIRE when she discovered the Mustache blog at age 22 and reached CoastFIRE at age 32 with $400,000 in savings, told me.
A common worry is when to stop. How much is enough? Why not make more? Since there is an upper limit to money’s effect on joy — studies have shown that global happiness tops out at income levels of about $75,000 a year — chasing infinite wealth may be psychologically futile.
“I think people can accumulate money to the detriment of their health and happiness,” says Alan Donegan, who with his wife, Katie, lives a nomadic lifestyle and coaches FIRE newbies toward their resignation letters by “trying to show money is a tool to create your version of an extraordinary life.” There are also those like Oliver Truong, a 27-year-old who cares less about the dollars and cents of it all than about fulfilling a self-imposed challenge: “I think FIRE people are some of the most creative people I’ve ever met,” he told me at EconoMe. “At least for me, it was never about the money, honestly. It was more about just doing something I wanted on my own.”
For those who succeed at early retirement, especially at the FatFIRE level, a surprise depression can set in. “It’s quite alarming and sad to see how many people are lost after they do this,” Wong’s FatFIRE co-moderator, Mike Doehla, told me. Doehla himself thought he was prepared for the social segregation when he FatFIREd at 40 in 2022 through his nutrition-coaching business. He wasn’t. “It has been pretty isolating, and almost awkward at times,” he confessed. Based in a small town in upstate New York, Doehla doesn’t know anyone in real life who has retired early, and all his friends are still working. But, he told me, “I think I’m psychologically broken from ever working someone else’s schedule again,” and he is keen to discover who he is, as a person, outside of work. If the quest for happiness were a tangible metric, Doehla reckons he is about 60 percent of the way there: “I have this FOMO, this empty cup, regarding what is going around me that so many people have experienced, that I just want to taste a bit.”
At EconoMe, I met a 52-year-old architect who considers himself “FattishFIRE”; he and his wife spend about $8,000 a month in Boston and would like to keep up that lifestyle in retirement. But, he told me, “I pretend I have a lot less than I do.” He lives in a building where many of his neighbors “have very little money, live off government assistance and are critical of wealthy people. They don’t know we’re like ‘stealth wealth.’ Would they not like me anymore?” (For this reason, he asked not to be identified.) He has saved enough money to retire within two or three years if he wants to, but he worries about how he’ll be perceived within a field that takes pride in its workhorse culture: “I’d always thought ‘architect’ was my personality and was going to be until I died,” he said. “Am I being too nervous? Am I crazy? I’m still a little ashamed.”
Sam Dogen budgets $350,000 a year in expenses for his family of four: “FatFIRE is almost a necessity if you want to live in San Francisco,” he says.Credit...Maggie Shannon for The New York Times After a decade in retirement, Dogen, the San Francisco FatFIREr, recently did the unimaginable: He decided to go back to work. He doesn’t really need the money, but the endless leisure has begun to wear on him. “I can’t do pickleball all day,” Dogen told me. “So what’s the responsible thing to do? And the responsible thing to do is to find a job that has good purpose, good meaning, where you can work with some smart people and have a lot of camaraderie.” He added: “It just feels good to be part of something. I think it’s really important that we all feel like we’re part of something, contributing.” He took one gig but quit because it ate up too much time, and he is now looking for a less demanding part-time position.
Wong, these days, loves to volunteer. He donates to charities, serves on neighborhood boards and of course plays both chairman and soothsayer to the fraternity (for it is largely male) of FatFIRE. Wong doesn’t so much mind being solitary in real life — he considers himself a lone wolf and is often wary of making new friends for fear they will try to take financial advantage of him. He has been duped in the past by family members or acquaintances, including a friend who falsely claimed to need support for lifesaving heart surgeries. It’s not uncommon for him to get Venmo requests from strangers. (Many of his pickleball acquaintances learned about his wealth when a photographer showed up on the court to shoot him for this article.)
I asked him what he plans to do in his second decade of retirement — or his third or fourth or beyond. He doesn’t know yet. He told me he has been intrigued by the rise of A.I. and has flirted with the idea of a D.I.Y. project in that space. Ultimately, though, he hasn’t pursued it. He fears even self-employment would bring back the manic stresses he fought so hard to leave behind. “When I FatFIREd, I freed myself,” Wong told me. Inner peace, then, is the precious goal. He treasures all the time he has been able to spend with his mother and may one day share his wealth with children of his own. “Should I have worked more and made even more money? I’ve definitely left many millions of dollars on the table by stepping away from it all,” he told me. “But I always end up coming to the same conclusion: There’s no point in making so much money if you’re not going to be happy. I’d rather be free.”

Blurb: Stranded on the hell-planet of Arachnea, the last remnants of the human Fleet fight to survive in a world overrun by insectoid monsters and a sentient ecosystem gone mad. It is a war they are destined to lose, as with every century that passes, more of the ancient science lies forgotten, replaced by myth and superstition. That is, until assistant navigator Rene stumbles the mightiest weapon of the ancestor-gods...
Link for more chapters available here!: Engines of Arachnea on Royal Road
As he ran, Rene relived the utter savagery of that moment that lingered so fresh in his mind.
The very stone had come alive with the enemy. Thick screens of vine were torn violently aside to reveal sally ports gnawed into the soft rock face. From each one spewed forth a dozen Amits, creatures nearly a meter and a half tall, with broad sets of shoulders and hips supporting four short, powerful limbs. An extra pair of shriveled arms emerged from the chest cavity. These served the purpose of fine motor control, while the rest were solely for digging and killing. Their necks and torsos were armored in segmented chitin, atop which rested huge oblate skulls that gleamed like dull pearls. The albino beasts flexed their curved mandibles and charged, armored heads lowered, each towering brute swinging a crude maul or axe head of chiseled flint.
“First rank, fire!”
The men discharged a furious volley. The beasts staggered, but only a handful were struck in the vital mark. Mouths consisting of a dozen moving parts rustled in screams of wordless rage. That was another unnerving thing about the Amits: they fought and died in utter silence.
They were closing fast. First rank withdrew and began reloading in a panic. A boulder came crashing down from the heights and dashed the brains out from a man to Rene’s left. He blinked as a fragment of bone grazed his cheek.
“Second rank, ready!”
The Amits reached for them, a terrible hunger in their lidless, milk-white eyes. Right before the moment of contact, the second line stepped forward and discharged the special-issue ammunition.
Clouds of orange smoke erupted from each muzzle. The Amit reared back, their sensitive olfactory organs assaulted by acrid vapors. They milled about in confusion, lashing out blindly in every direction. With cries of desperate bravery, the men unsheathed their bayonets and threw themselves at their foes.
There were few things that could permanently kill an Amit. Bullets and blades pierced them well enough, provided one avoided the armor, but such was their physiology that major organ damage was often negated by redundant systems. They had two brains for primary motor functions and three chambered organs for the distribution of vitae, and the destruction of one wouldn’t cripple them for certain. The only instantly fatal wound was to sever a thick bundle of nerves located near the base of their gargantuan heads, right behind the mouth.
Of course, getting there alive was the trick; one still had to account for the mandibles.
In teams of threes they singled out individuals and went to work. Rene and Lethway took the flanks, taking turns to dart in under the wild swings to stab the pair of cortexes at either side of the body. The beast snapped its jaws sideways, distracted, and Jensen seized that moment to step in close and bury his hatchet in the center of its face. The first blow rebounded off the thick cranium with a gonglike sound, but the second bit deep. The Amit went limp and collapsed, yellow blood frothing down its jowls.
Jensen yelled with triumph and reached down to retrieve his weapon. He took hold of the haft and began to yank it free. The Amit’s eyes flickered open, glittering with baleful light. It spasmed, and a clear fluid fountained up at Jensen, drenching his arm to the elbow. He screamed in agony; in a matter of moments the acid ate through his sealant suit and peeled his flesh raw.
Rene ducked as a stone the size of a cart wheel flew past. All around them on every hillock and cliff face, more and more Amit clambered to meet them, mandibles spread wide in anticipation. Worse still, the clever ones had begun to circle around behind them. If they managed to bottle up the defile they would be trapped and killed to a man.
Deschane had reached the same conclusion. He bellowed:
“First rank! First rank, about face and fire at will!”
What was left of them rushed to comply. Most of the first rank had managed to load their own noxious cartridges in time, and a second cloud of sulphurous compounds scattered the Amit at their rear.
“Disperse and overlap! Make for the outpost!”
Rene and the rest of the men fought through under a hail of hurled projectiles, stumbling over the broken bodies littering the ground, mauled beyond recognition, bisected, Amits shot and stabbed and hacked into twitching heaps of meat, human skulls split by axe heads and dripping cranial fluid. T. He saw one man caught out by a pair of beasts who took an arm and a leg each and pulled him shrieking into the dark mouth of a tunnel. Several other unfortunates shared his grisly fate, disappeared beneath the earth with loud wails.
_______________________________________________________
They fled, but not in wild terror. Rather, they each found a partner and took off in separate directions. The eyesight of an Amit was good only for a few dozen meters, beyond which they had to operate by scent and sound. Arguably this fact did not help much, as these senses were highly tuned and superior to vision for the purposes of tracking and killing, but it was not impossible to confuse them.
And so Rene now ran alone. Like the others he had picked a direction and taken off as fast as his legs could carry him. In his haste he had forgotten to attach himself to a partner. He was beginning to regret it. His pursuer was gaining on him, how he could not say. He darted a quick glance behind him, then looked back in time to narrowly duck a low branch that swiped at his face.
It was coming at an oblique angle to his path, and in a moment it would close the distance and take him from behind with the terrible strength of its jaws.
But not if he had anything to say about it. Rene reached out, seized the narrow trunk of a sapling and swung himself around. With his other hand he drew his pistol and aimed.
The Amit stumbled, flopped onto the ground, and began to swear.
“Why, you absolute bastard!”
“Lethway?”
“Watch where you’re pointing that thing, you imbecile!”
Rene laughed with hysterical relief.
“Don’t see why you’re so pleased,” Lethway said, getting up and spitting out saliva thick with clotted blood, “Bastards almost got me.” Lethway was nursing a shallow, jagged cut at his side from an axe. His sealant suit was torn open, twists of rubber lining peeping through.
“They may yet still. Were you the one on the whistle?”
“No. That was Damus. He was too slow. You got a whistle on you?”
“Yes. How many minutes has it been?”
“Damned if I know. Figure we intersect now?”
“Aye.”
Rene blew on the whistle, and the two of them began to run. On either side of them, other pair answered with a whistle of their own, and they came crashing into view from the side. They nodded to one another as they passed. Their paths began to wind and crisscross as the men ran in extended, overlapping figures of eight.
The aim of dispersion was to create a messy trail of scents for the Amit to follow, winding patterns that ended as suddenly as they began, the aromas of some individuals mingling with that of others. The maneuver would buy them time and split the attention of the horde.
The Amits, confounded for the moment, passed quickly out of their hearing, milling about the undergrowth in confusion. Rene and Lethway ran until their lungs gave out, then settled into a measured jog.
“We’ll head south for a bit, until morning comes.” Rene was saying, “We’ll find a nice tall hill, do a bit of scouting, see what the roundheads are up to. Maybe find some of the others. Then we’ll head south west and find the river. Wash our scent off, follow it east to the outpost.”
They stopped abruptly, listened hard. From far off they heard a long, plaintive wail as the Amit caught themselves a straggler.
If they had needed motivation not to break off their breakneck flight, they had it now. They heard him being butchered for quite some time before his cries faded away into silence.
“Better him than us,” Lethway spat bitterly, “Can you still run?” “I can now,” Rene said, and together they crashed on through the green hell that had swallowed their friends.
Link for more chapters available here!: Engines of Arachnea on Royal Road

Salutations fellow sinners,
If you are righteous, this plea is not for you; but regardless, grace, not pieces within you even yet.
In the words of those before me, I hope it will not be thought disrespectful to those this may not apply, my opinions are just that, and quite contrary to what we are sold on the television set. The world stage is a large one, but different people often see the same subject in different lights, and, therefore I shall speak openly, without reserve, and in light of God’s Words of truth, the greater light, bet–
Yet, while mercy has been displayed continually by our father, love he and thank thee, merci’ – we failed to follow suit. Mitigating sacrifice was established through the last sacrifice; and it was not Paul, Saul, David or Bugatti. But in order to know God, you must know the Son. A sinner of the statute of the life I have lived can shed light on the power of repentance and the saving grace of our God, the Creator, thanks to the Son. This is the first call, all call, last call to fellow sinners; a call to pause and reflect because the signs of times are all around us, and this time we can’t walk out of the stagecoach.
In the beginning, God made two lights- one greater and one lesser, but both lights nonetheless. Both residing externally Sun and Moon, and internally, both a comprehension of plurality of masculine and feminine, as well as greater and lesser light. But regardless, both lights nonetheless, and light always wins; now or later, preferably sweeter and sooner than the Phoenix. Along the path to redemption there are inevitably trials and tests commensurate with our desires – but the beauty of our Father’s plan, he always brings us back to the brighter light, once we comprehend – for only he and we know the affliction of our heart. He keeps working on us until our hearts are purified and fully understands his design for our lives. There will always be good vs. evil both internally and externally until balanced, but in reality, it is God vs. man because only God is good, and let us be honest, are we really trying to challenge that? But God keeps promises in bringing us back even in our ignorance, and I can attest to that. He is our strength at all times, both high and low; yielding in our hearts to what he’s trying to teach our soul. He loves us regardless of how far we are or fall, and will not abandon us, no matter what live now says, fear not.
Sometimes lessons are sobering for those who are stubborn; we may not understand, but he knows how to teach us through the environment around us. Jesus, our brother and while a, also the, son, came to emphasize the importance of yielding to God for correction. His yoke is indeed lighter; showing us how to attain it through following; following requires doing, which demands denying ourselves more often and practicing faith knowing in your heart the brighter light always prevails. Reiterating if we have a missing piece, a hole to fill, it is God we’re searching for; it can’t be filled with earthly matters. If we lose faith, we lose sight of what he’s doing in our lives and those we are in contact with. Making sure the light prevails, for when we tumble in the darkness, the light only surfaces on occasion.
Nonetheless, our hearts become like a twisted ball of yarn the more we sin and stray from the path he tries to keep us on. He has to untangle each strand, leading us back one by one. Reintegration and restoration, trust and love, resurrecting a passion for life. The prodigal kids, here we come; and he does it for all of us, not just some. He’s a master potter, shaping and molding us throughout life; some more stiff necked than others, but that’s par for the course. Just like the oxen, being worked in amongst the fodder, break the weights and the neck will move further. The moment we surrender and turn back in plea, truly searching and seeking out thee; he always relents and helps us to rebuild. It is a bitter sweet double-edged sword for when you realize that we cause our own dismay amplified by false portrayals around us, it becomes quite evident what must change. The weight on our brother’s shoulders, both then and now – for he fought without lifting a finger for us and did not succumb, but prevailed. The last sacrifice, unfathomable and deserving of appreciation; but fear not friends, for he has been risen, many times before. Once we accept that we are being groomed to receive the promises guaranteed to all, that he wants all of the sheeple, not just the spotless, life makes more sense. He is coming to bring us all home, around to the full light. A combination of both as intended, a mastery of self-awareness; Love prevails, God never fails.
We are indeed all like Atom, after all we do live in Atom’s Sphere, and are made up of none other than, atoms here, and yes, just as we have been told time and again, hallowed my dear. Hence the Alpha and the Omega, first and last, because this whole life is made up of just that. Yet, while science is fascinating and adoration of awe; don’t forget to give credit to the maker of it all. Hence, we must seek and be able to answer “Who am I” in order to identify origination; that is where we find God. We as the body are the temple, not a box. He is the One and the Three, the tree for both you and me; tomorrow’s vision may not be a Friday, but there will be a day. God is the master mathematician, and he's not a big fan on division. You see our God is a God of multiplication and addition, not a fan of taking away and starting over; who wants to destroy their crop, unless a last resort? Speaking of which, have you seen, who owns the largest amount of crops? Will be interesting to see, how someone with so much acreage could see famine right down the street, and what they’ll do to address the civil unrest. Quite contrary indeed, similar to a drug dealer killing their clientele with highly synthetic pleas. But if that’s what it takes, we know the lord doesn’t hesitate, do you serve the lord, God, or the local magistrates. Ever considered why cows are so sacred? The opposite of Mo’ Mo’ is Woe Woe; we need more Mo and less woe, man. Between Wesley and Presley, Stanley and Springsteen, the Stones and Roses; we should see by now; but even while written on the walls, we become selfish and thinking ‘me above all’.
This pissing matches in the desert are just continuations of ancient-day slaughter. David vs. Goliath based out of sheer foolery and fighting over the daughters; ashes to ashes, dust to dust- our Christ, your Christ, their Christ ours, is already alive, residing inside us, awaiting to be unlocked from behind the bars. Yet, is that how we receive grace, by taking it? Controlling the funds, ports, or oil and calling ourselves kings or gods of the kingdom. Casting lots without him and creating general allotments. Kicking out those who were before us, how has that worked so far. He promised he wouldn’t leave, and indeed it’s been true. He’s been living in the structure of our being, both me and you. Why do you think the pollen heightens or hurricanes roar stronger; how flowers and trees come to be before we; unprecedented spectacles will only be warnings so much longer. Do we think that ‘it is what it is’ and just move on? Or do we halt, stop, ponder seek and see. For even the great magician couldn’t see this set, so much time with deceit and perversions, not enough time in the foreground yet, living the life you forced others to see; not this one, not I, not the Leo in me. Go back and see for yourself, take a peep at the reel, yes … read. The Republic, Phaedo, The Symposium, The Torah, Quran, Testimonies, Revelation, Mayan, Chinese, Indian, Norse, Native American principles – yet we still sometimes fail to see, the children of God – yes, that is you and me.
The Lion of Judah paid the sacrifice for us to live, by combining the three sticks into one, into One hand, the Father. Three, one, One, the fifth star complete. We were told in the book of Ezekiel “Say unto them, thus saith the Lord God; Behold, I will take the stick of Joseph, which is in the hand of Ephraim, and the tribes of Israel his fellows, and will put them with him, even with the stick of Judah, and make them one stick, and they shall be one in mine hand.” All right there on Calvary; so that others may, LIVE. . . if they believe! But faith is a personal profession and proclamation, between man/woman, wholeness in singularity and God. Why was that taken away from us, from the people? For the people, by the people, forsaken the love we first had, our sweet May flower, Satsuki.
It is a part of the lessons as the road trips us up sometimes, Lara sold to the captain for a lot more than 30 shekels this time. But step away Mr. R.A., this auction is believers only; Lady Beth is in a bud bidding battle, 26 and gone. Smoke stacks spitting, dualities into the sunny skies before night; loads on the roads bringing tears to our eyes. Ancient times and can’t forget behind locked inside the cages; the ringmasters and toastmasters, telecasters and forecasters, singing on an empty stage. Cheating is cheating regardless of state, zip, or theatrical stage, for them, your friends, or colleagues esteemed, 897, 598, 8; quit with your shows and lies and make-believe pies and let my soul’s mate, great. Hope comes from more than batteries and neon, don’t go spending money on needles and guns just yet, neither hot nor cold, and yes . . . Lo key, Loki blues not at all much hotter. Take a look at the wood of holly and you’ll see how the dream works; fishing moon to moon, but be careful who you pray to goonies. For that whistle could be a thistle, and barefoot with blue jeans.
But there is only One judge and jury, so who are we to kick people out, when no one owns this land that we reside on amongst earth; just like the artic, no visa required. So how do we turn our backs on our brothers and sisters fleeing in need of higher glory, for a glory of a nation, belongs to the Father. The hunger games have begun; yet, just as warned by the Son, and Sun, we have been more focused on abiding by man-made rules. We could have even listened to Kat or the Tules, but sure didn’t see that one either. For even in Genesis, the very first book, it takes searching and hunting with arrowheads for the stars to line up. Creating a multi-faceted, yet singular story; “and the angel of the Lord found her by a fountain of water in the wilderness called Shur”, sure sounds familiar. Like Jesus and the Samaritan by the well, but what is Samaritan; but darkness of the night, yet we are still the pupil of the eye. Nonetheless, a child of God and who is man to judge? Again, we find in Genesis, for the beginning doesn’t make sense until the end, “wherefore the well was called “Beer-la-hai-roi” – oh, hey Roy, let’s stop drinking whiskey, I would like to drink from the fountain of life so I can see. Behold, it is between Kadesh, which means clean, and Be-red, which sounds a lot like anger. Faith, Hope, and Love overcomes death even yet.
For man rests on the outskirts of our spirit, the flesh and bag of bones. For the spirit is strong, but the flesh is weak and yet our God is omnipresent amongst all, with no favoritism and no hate. What a beautiful date, for only God is great, and we are works in progress; the good stuff, the bad, the ugly, the beautiful, it does not matter to he who creates. Our souls will be purified and set free after redemption and cleansing. Some along the way have manipulated that fact for political gain, financial gain, status, time and time again. Like now, again – don’t believe it? Start searching and you will see it.. But ole Lewis was crafty, both on and off stage, not really wanting you to see behind that veil or the sage. Jesus told us to seek, and we would find; and oh, you do… once earnestly like, Mr.
The Sign of Jonah we have already seen, and continue to see, for those with eyes or ears and those who are not asleep. For we know that “Jonah was gone down into the sides of the ship; and he lay, and was fast asleep.” “They cast lots, and the lot fell upon Jonah.” “He said to them, I am an Hebrew; and I fear the Lord, the God of heaven, which hath made the sea and the dry land.” Mind you, a brew of “he” – we all have a little Hebrew inside of us, some even a little Peter.
The men knew he had fled from the presence of the Lord. “I cried by reason of mine affliction unto the Lord and he heard me, out of the belly of hell cried I, and thou heard my voice. The waters compassed me about, even to the soul: the depth closed me round about, the weeds were wrapped about my head. I went down to the bottoms of the mountains: the earth with her bars was about me forever: yet hast thou brought up my life from corruption, O Lord my God. They that observe lying vanities forsake their own mercy. But I will sacrifice unto thee with the voice of thanksgiving, I will pay that, that I have vowed. He was the last sacrifice, and no more are desired or required. Instead, deny that last drink, or staying out too late seeking sin and adulteries; spoken from wisdom, it causes death all the faster. But it’s more than just the obvious sins and transgressions, for God knows our hearts, and that is hard to hide. Proof is in the puddin’ they say, so what are we made of? Pause, Rewind, and Reflect; break the curse of negative consequence; or be like Joseph, forget.
Brothers and Sisters, the choice is yours for we are different but the same, how can we question and use his name in vein. Was he not the one who highlighted the arteries, the good and the evil, all wrapped up in one. Overcoming and persevering through the plurality, aligning the zeros and mitigating other ones. So, what exactly is the plurality we are faced with deep within this sea of the dead? Shall we consider all of the crests and logos throughout time looking at what they have in common, for I agree with thee. Especially the ones they like to plaster like the ivy all over our walls and halls. Or the stories of creation amongst cultures, lions, gods, legends, dragons, rabbits, dogs, and yes… baals. You can keep your Jumanji, because do you think he cares if we play football or soccer, or what kind of fancy clothes we wear. Is it not less so the act and more so the fact, that while some make millions to play, we’ve got kids homeless and hungry on the streets without a fork, pillow, or books to read. Yet, we always find something to protest, leaving the big question up in the air of who would like to see, finally a day of rest? He’s the same God… try and protest that.
When a red giant loses hydrogen, it loses brightness; likewise, when a red rose loses hydrogen, it also loses brightness. When hydrogen is lost, sulfur ensues to reestablish homeostasis. Yes, brimstone and sulfur help to re-establish pH levels in soil, which is required for a rose to thrive. We are the rose, rose lines have been established all along, out of the ground from the mud, a flower amongst all. Heading back from the blue; yes, that is me and you. God is the cultivator, not the local gardener. Weather my family, we have no control, even though we try. But the all-seeing, he knows what others don’t and the ‘others’ are you and I – did we not see the one that just took first place prize amongst all our eyes floating in the April skies? Do we need more signs of times from space, a wish dragon may not be the best one for our fate. When a son is born, God keeps his covenant; a rainbow in the sky, a spectacle of color and beauty. When a supernova explodes, or the star’s energy is “liberated”, collapsing into a neutron star, or a black hole, respectively and collectively. If someone is of the lesser light, a black hole is born, eating everything around it to the point that its surroundings collapse in; whereas someone of the greater light, Jimmy the neutron shines bright.
One pill makes you larger, one pill makes you small; but must you not know both sides of the coin before you pick up and play with the ball. Ask Neo, or Leo, or summon Alice; ask for a cortado, or ask the Mayans who’s sons also played baal. For words are words, but the sounds of nature are what reveal the true voice of God. If sound is manipulated, and your eyes put into a blur; who’s to say you really know what day it is, thanks Greg. But when sound and sight become a tool of manipulation for the ages, that’s when it’s time to step in and say hold your four horses there Cynisca. The sins my friend must come to an end for there are watchers this time, and they’ve been watching. I’m not sure Theodore meant the credit belongs to the Olympic athlete; more so the man or woman whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, from the knocks of this life. The gripping servitude, a distraction from reality. Getting beat down constantly by society, those appointed over, trying to make an inch only to get hit with a mile. Eights are great especially for fate, but fate without grace; run rabbit run.
The only way to recover from being a sinner is to be baptized by understanding, you have to go through it to grow through it; persevere in order to see the promises. That fire on the mountain will make you a little crazy, but if you persevere and stick through it, it will most certainly save you and teach a level of compassion unknown before. Once you realize that ‘circumcision’ has nothing, yet everything, to do with genitalia, you begin to understand quickly. The spirit is alive inside of us when we choose to listen and ‘liberate it’. Jesus told us himself, the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. And then Genesis tells us “Abraham was 99 years old when he was circumcised in the flesh of his foreskin; “and all the men of his house, born in the same house, and bought with money of the stranger, were circumcised with him. Do you really think a 99-year-old man had his genitals cut, when God is of Mercy and Compassion, not human mutilation and humiliation? Isn’t it more plausible after understanding of truth, that the circumcision is ascension of the spirit, for those who come to, and we all do.
We know in Hosea God says that he “desires mercy and not sacrifice.” And again, in Matthew paraphrased “but go and learn what this means, I desire mercy and not sacrifice, for I have come to call not the righteous, but the sinners to repentance.” Steps begotten even further for merci’ is thanks, and thanks do we owe he. But have we learned… Even in the Quran, paraphrased “Say oh my worshippers, who have transgressed against himself, never lose hope in the mercy of God.” If we are meant to live in the image of God, who is of mercy; why do we constantly battle for superiority. Religion is a man-made cancer.
Mother Earth is roaring like a lion, at the tipping point wondering why we are acting like the blood sucking zombies we are. For oil is a type of blood line, an artery, life for earth. How do we assume that an engine runs without oil; yet, we are constantly bombarded with the façade that global warming is “not on this earth.” Google’s earth and the X would suggest otherwise, right there amongst the screens for all eyes to see, once they take the time to glean. Joy and glee must have escaped you and me, for it is not the “gold” that everyone seeks. Makes a lot of sense why the gods of earth would want the wars to continue, if you were the benefactor of what fuels the flame. But sorry Mr. want to be king, contrary to belief, it is not just a “can of soup that you can stack on top of” and take what we want without regard for the overall sustainability. For some reason, we only consider the timeframe in which we are alive, but how much longer until we learn that we reap what we sow, and while we as a species have overcome many defeats, all that is really witnessed is destruction, on repeat.
We are in no times of ceremony or celebrations, yet that’s all we seem to do. Mass parades, escapades and Olympic masquerades. The question before the people, my fellow sinners; are you ready? But are we not in the exact same spot as Henry once said, “I consider it as nothing less than a question of freedom or slavery”; Egypt all over again, yes, this time globally.
But more than free from omens, how about liberty and justice, the two stone weights from above. It is then that we can place hope in representation; for the taxes and costs keep rising, but my people keep flailing. Do what you will, but there is no shame in opinion or giving offence; It should make us all question and hit our knees to repent. If the leaders of our houses are called Beelzebub or Jezebel, how much more those of their household, the slaves of man building their strongholds, me and you.
Henry warned over two-hundred years ago, a fact that resonates true, still to this day,
“We are apt to shut our eyes against a painful truth, and listen to the song of that siren till she transforms us into beasts. Is this the part of wise men, engaged in a great and arduous struggle for liberty? Are we disposed to be of the number of those who, having eyes, see not, and, having ears, hear not, the things which so nearly concern their temporal salvation? For my part, whatever anguish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know the whole truth; to know the worst, and to provide for it.
I have but one lamp by which my feet are guided; and that is the lamp of experience. I know of no way of judging of the future but by the past. And judging by the past, I wish to know what there has been in the conduct of the British ministry for the last ten years, to justify those hopes with which gentlemen have been pleased to solace themselves, and the House? Is it that insidious smile with which our petition has been lately received? Trust it not, sir; it will prove a snare to your feet. Suffer not yourselves to be betrayed with a kiss. Ask yourselves how this gracious reception of our petition comports with these war-like preparations which cover our waters and darken our land. Are fleets and armies necessary to a work of love and reconciliation? Have we shown ourselves so unwilling to be reconciled, that force must be called in to win back our love? Let us not deceive ourselves, sir. These are the implements of war and subjugation; the last arguments to which kings’ resort.”
Patrick Henry, 1775.
Your name shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel; for you have struggled with God and with men, and have prevailed – righteous and ruins. So, Jacob called the name of the place Peniel for I have seen God face to face, and my life is preserved – again sounds familiar, a lot like Pineal, for he is indeed the all-seeing right on our foreheads. In the middle of its street, and on either side of the river, each tree yielding its fruit every month. The leaves of the tree were for the healing of nations, yet we see that one also become corrupt, chasing the dollar bill. They shall see his face, and his name shall be on their foreheads. Do you know your name. Do you know which ladder you’re climbing.
Like a trick candle, we will be re-lit; set out as conquerors and landed on our face thus yet. But when a forest burns, it comes back ever-green; all of my friends, again that is you and me. Leonardo and Charlie, they were about it too; just like Jesus told us, it can be me and you. But the path is narrow, hard to find like Stefani, but Ja rules once you remove the rocks and the water flows. Like the lightning and midnight moon, show its glow amongst the river flow where the wild fern grows. A flower there, with a purple; now you see Whitley.
Chase your dreams and do not be confined to the limitations within the confounds of your reality. Change your personality and you change your personal reality. Embrace experiences and learn from them; in so doing with all your heart be guided with best intent. Do not forsake love, especially the one we first had. Be understanding of yourself and each other. We are all interrelated, stories and family, as such we either help or hurt, collectively. But if you are living life with an open and loving heart, how can you contest we’d be better off than we were at the start. The more we make mistakes and ignore the truth, the further we delve away from others and the true you. That is the challenge of a life full of sin, we have to deny our desires in order to identify that in him. If we can do this at a micro level, we can do it at a macro level. For what is love, if you do not know – God is beautiful, and so are you.
Forsake not the value of consciousness and of life itself; the thought thereof to both create life, and maintain it to term is a matter not to be tampered with. For it is one of grace, and yet uncertainty; but is it not by faith that we overcome hurdles down in the pit of hell, with the help of our father from above, outside the water pale. So ought not the choice of life or death reside with the one who will be responsible to pay the price of said death.
Seek your soul mate, the one we’re searching for – the missing piece within us all, our personal slice of the everlasting, the all-living God. Our piece intended for us, but kept in secret; hidden from helping us thrust to heights we belong. Maybe that is the root, just as confirmed in Genesis yet; for if we do the right thing, will we not be accepted? We are most certainly able, just like Abel, who was slaughtered for doing the right thing. Societal problems continue to expound, but what do we expect for everyone wants a crown. We all have different ways of dealing with our emotions. Particularly the emotion of not feeling loved. Some it pisses off, some drink, others drugs, and violence. But what if you were aware? Would that change, could you change if called out in front of them all. When you meet God in your time, is it not the ideal you had within your mind, a captivating beauty – male, female, or no sex at all. Not to discount finding that on earth if you’re lucky, if the stars line up and you identify the duality like Mona, the Lisa related to Issa. But most will search throughout life with the wrong intent in thine eye; often missing the extra time of completeness and digging deeper into the valley of “I”. To the point individually, and collectively, we create our own demise. It is important to rest, relax, and look within. Meditation certainly helps, but isolation and withdrawal bring about results in an expedited manner. A complete removal of sound in order to process life and how complicated we make it. It is exhausting. Life, for if we had an international stand down, a timeout to explore within, look at the information you may or may not be without. That was the intent behind the sabbath, yet we stopped listening and understanding all cultures that fit into the story, reflecting on history, instead we choose to respond by erasing it. We shouldn’t be complacent and allowing a few to control the narrative for all. If you can answer and describe love, than a congratulation is due to you all; but for some, we may not know until we fall. An expectation of ‘normalcy’, yet who determines what normal is. What you should, or should not want to do. Let us learn to love, starting with the creator, then to thee, and the neighbor around we. To be holy is not religion, for religion creates more division. Holy is a state of being, spiritual – a love for both me and we. For she is an abundance of emerald beauty, golden flowing and eyes that cut through lies.
Captains of the Nations, you are supposed to be the leaders on earth, right? But the real question is, have you been doing your job, and what light does guide thy feet? You want centralized information, but do you know what you are enabling and yet imposing upon creation.
Attitude reflect leadership, Captain. Earth's people will rise again.
Until we meet again, I See You.
He Sees Us.

Edit: DO NOT message me a simple hi or hello, with no information about you, Put some effort in to your message like i have, come on. Day+Attempt#182
Hello everyone, Thank you for taking the time to read, I know its long, I know - I know. But its worth the read, Trust me. I appreciate you immensely.
Here's a bit about me,
My name is Jay, I live on the East coast of the US. I'm looking for love - like everyone else on here.., but you may not believe or even be doubtful that I've never had a GF before with me being 26, but its true. I'm simply just not willing to "be with" just anyone and I'm very picky. I want us to be a match, more than just have similar things in common.
One thing I have always been told is that I'm a "Real Catch, I'd be extremely lucky to have someone like you" - WELL THEN TAKE ME. I'M FREE. LOL.
About me:
Physically -
~I'm a semi-tall guy, around 5'10.
~I'm thin but muscular.
~I have dirty blonde/ brown hair.
~Changing colored eyes.
~A voice nice enough to melt all your safeguards and get right into your heart and weak spots.
~I do not have any tattoos or piercings. Though I would like to get some eventually.
If you'd like to see a picture of me just ask and I'll show you - IF I may see you as well, I simply just don't want a picture of me out there for anyone to see.
-If there's anything else you'd like to know just ask.
Otherwise -
~I do have 3 pet bunnies I would be more than happy to show you, they are extremely cute.
~I'm a very honest and down to earth guy.
~I'm very patient and easy going.
~I'm very curious and inquisitive. I will try to ask everything I can to learn all about you haha.
~I'm Very VERY Kind & Caring, I will probably ask how you are feeling a bajillion times a day, simply out of care for you.
~I can get pretty clingy, and will always want your attention and to be talking with you. If i have someone im interested in i wont want to talk to anyone else🤷‍♂️
~I'm very trustworthy - you can confide in me, and entrust your deepest secrets and I wont tell a soul.
~I'm a HUGE hopeless romantic, im old fashioned and will always try to impress you.
- I'm, a BIG softie even though I may look a smol bit intimidating, but I'd do just about anything to see you smile or laugh. And yes.., I do mean anything.
~I'm a big goof - I will get up to some silly shenanigans ALL the time, I will crack dumb jokes and send you memes and tik toks just to make you happy, even if its from across the room I'd wait to see your reaction lol.
~I'm extremely loyal, and would never even think of cheating.
~I will cook for you, and clean up too, even around the house, I'm very self productive and don't ask for much. Just don't forget to kiss the cook.
~I'd also love to just cuddle up and watch a movie or read a book together, anything to get us closer. Id try to take you out on dates whenever possible haha. I have a million SUPER romantic date ideas I have but have never had anyone interested enough in me to take out. Here's your chance ;)
~I will always want to share stuff I find interesting with you, and try to share every moment of every day with you. I'm not looking for someone who can only talk for a small amount of time, I want someone who's willing to put in all the effort I put into them back into me, it goes both ways. If I'm "with" someone you are my TOP priority nobody and nothing else would be. You would be the only person I'd truly want to talk to, so rest assured I would NEVER cheat, even more so because no one is interested in me - Hence why I'm here hahaha.
I'm sure there is more to me than this snippet but I cant think of more at the moment haha, so get to know me and find out more about me.
Some of my interests are: Engineering- I'm a nerd. I admit it. I love being technical and hands on, I love building things. All kinds of things, from furniture, machinery, and reverse engineering anything I find. I love learning how things work and trying to improve things.
Music - I prefer music with a very fast pace, or with some very meaningful lyrics I can relate to. I love to sing along to music and songs that have a deep meaning behind it I can sympathize with makes it all the better. Some bands I like are: Bad Omens, Beartooth, Demon Hunter, MIW, I9K - The list goes on. I'm a bit of a metalhead unfortunately.
TV Shows & Movies - I love watching shows, and I'd love to stream some shows and have some E-dates with you, to get to know you, or if you are close to me, maybe we could do it in person. Some shows I like or more of the Fantasy/Sci-Fi, Comedy, Action, stuff like: National Treasure, Halo, BattleBots, Rick and Morty, AHS, Anything Marvel or DC, The Witcher, Wednesday, The Sandman, The Magicians, The Umbrella Academy, ETC.
Gaming - Yes yes I know, Basic guy likes basic stuff. But gaming has been a thing for me since forever. I know most of you wont care or want to hear that, but I'll leave out the specifics on this part unless you are interested in that, MEGA Bonus points if you are.
Here's a lists of Cons to dating me-
~I'm not Ryan Reynolds. Disappointing, I know.
~I will fight you on what goes on pizza lol.
~I'm not rich.., Yet.
~I can't pronounce Worcestershire.
~I'm slightly forgetful, but with good reasoning.
~(Not really a con but- some might disagree) I still have ALL of my firsts, Do with that what you will c:
~I've got an endless pile of love and affection and no one to give it to! What a dilemma! Help me fix it?
Other than that I'll save the rest for a bit more of getting to know each other.
Here's a bit of what I'm looking in you:
~Preferably someone with lots of free time, and loves to chit chat. I'm seriously not interested in getting 1 message a day. Though I understand people get busy, I personally am not willing to try to learn about you and form something with 7 responses a week. Effort gets reciprocated and I appreciate the time you put in me.
~Physically: -I’m not personally attracted to anyone who’s “curvy/ chubby”, I apologize. Not a shallow thing, I just dont have the attraction chemical in my brain for that, I’m sorry. -If you’re shorter than me, thats a plus to me. -I love dimples, if you have those when you smile, bonus points 😊 - I’m not sure what else to put.., but as for nsfw wise find out😂
~I'm a sucker for a different accent other than American, and if you have an Posh English accent you have already won my heart.
~I'm also only really looking for someone within the ages of 18-35. I don't want anyone old enough to be my mom lol.
~I'd prefer (But not a must) people NOT on the other side of the world, as other time zones SUCK. I don't expect to find anyone who also has never had a boyfriend either, but that would be a real plus. I also don't mind a LDR, but I don't want that forever. But it gives us time to get to know each other.
But as for attributes I'm looking for in you:
~Someone who is above all else very very Loyal and would never cheat.
~Someone who is Honest, and will tell me the truth over a little white lie.
~Someone who is Kind & Caring, who'd constantly check on me, and accept me for who I am & help me improve day to day.
~Someone who is trustworthy, and I can count on to keep my secrets safe, or even just help me remember things.., I do tend to be somewhat forgetful.
~Someone who is very Patient and wants to see me succeed and will help me do so, just like I would help you. Even if its small day to day things, I would appreciate your company ANY time.
~I want a partner who is Affectionate, can reciprocate, and loves to snuggle and talk about their day, and what their interests are, and what makes them happy.
~Someone who can admit they get clingy or overprotective is a bonus.
~A partner with good communication is key, if something wrong we have to be able to talk about it.
~A partner who likes to game with me or at least watch me play would be a plus but not a requirement.
~Someone with a good sense of humor and like to joke around, I am a big goof after all and I love to joke around. Sending memes is always appreciated and good to cheer people up too!
~I'd prefer someone with the same music taste, but not a requirement, Plus if you wouldn't mind if I send you love songs occasionally that's a bonus, or sending me some back haha.
~Being willing to voice call is a must, Texting forever is not the way to go. I have to know what your voice is like haha, later on we can video call if you are comfortable with that. I prefer chatting on Discord because Reddit messages of any kind I'm sure you know are unreliable and sucky in general. So please send me your discord if you have one :)
~I would LOVE to see picture of your pets if you have any. Bonus points if it includes your beautiful self haha.
I'm sure there is more I'm looking for but I cant think of it right now haha, I will have to edit this when I think of it.
Please tell me about you as an opener! I told you a good bit about me, now its your turn haha.
Tell me some things like -
~What's your name?
~Where are you from?
~How old are you?
~What are your hobbies / interests?
~What about my post interested you?
~Where is my TV Remote?!
~Selfie? Pet pics?
~Hit me with your best joke or meme :)
~What's your favorite candy?
I'd LOVE to get to know you, and see where things go.
But yeah, I know it was long I'm sorry haha. Send me a message and lets get to know each other! :)

To preface this post, I want to give the disclaimer that like many things, there is not a black and white answer the question. I'm writing this as an experienced tech professional, and the information provided is based on opinion.
To start with. A little bit of history..
The golden age of software engineering(and similar jobs) is over. At least for the next 5 - 10 years. I don't think this is an unpopular opinion. The reason why between the years of 2010 - 2022, these jobs exploded, was because of the boom of the internet for commercial and personal use.
This is different from the dotcom boom of 2000s, where the internet was just starting and most of the products being created were for basic things like: putting banking on the internet, putting videos on the internet, etc.
The boom in the 2010s was related to the widespread popularity of commercial and personal products. Things like Uber, Spotify, and Salesforce. With the sudden increased usage of the digital world, there were MILLIONS of companies rushing to create digital products.
However, we're starting to see the rise and fall of some of these products, millions of startups failings, and less VC funding. In case you don't know, VC stands for Venture Capital, which are basically investment companies that give money to other companies to help them grow and develop, in return for partial ownership of the company.
As the industry began to mature, successful companies started to emerge, and many more started to fail.
The present day..
Software engineering and like jobs will continue to be important, and there will be a high demands for these engineers. Nearly every company will still need a website, a place to manage their data, and people to manage their hardware. BUT.. the basic technologies they need to run their company will become more efficient. AND there will be less research and innovation because the a lot of the trial and error already occurred.
We're in a weird spot where the demand for workers is now decreasing from it's recent peaks, and the supply of workers is now increasing because of how all the benefits of being a software engineer in the past decade.
This has really unfortunate consequences for any recent graduates or others trying to break into the tech field. There are WAY more beginning career people than jobs available. Which is made even worse with the amount of layoffs there are, where mid-level employees are now having to settle for entry level jobs.
What can we do?
I have two pieces of advice for people interested in the topic, or wanting to break into the field but can't. Try breaking in from a adjacent field, where you can get some exposure to tech. Things that data entry, analytics(this can be finance, supply chain etc). Then try to learn as much as you can from the tech people at your company.
The second piece of advice. Go into a different field. Software engineering is not for everyone. You have to learn and understand some relatively complex topics, and it's becoming harder and harder to be competitive in the industry. Healthcare, supply chain, and many other industries are booming right now.
Understanding history, you can see that certain industries will rise and fall. For the near future, technology might be one of the harder careers to break into. Something like healthcare would be that's expected to grow exponentially. The average population of the world is getting older, as less and less people are wanting to have kids. There will be higher demand for healthcare professionals and healthcare technology.
Do your best to review and understand these trends, and hopefully you can create a good life and career. Best of luck!
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So I'll be finishing my final coursework course at UH ever tomorrow but I still have two years left in the PhD program. From the now until I defend my dissertation I'll just be doing research hours and oddjobs (48 credit hour speedrun). As per tradition every few years, here are all the courses I've taken in undergrad and graduate school. I'll also say which prof I recommend for the class. I transferred to UH my Junior year.
COSC 1336: Computer Science and Programming. Professor: N/A, Semester: N/A

• I didn't take this class. This is the class that gets you started in CS. I recommend taking it with Dr. Yun or Dan/Dr. B. This class is also known as "glorified Python programming". This class isn't specifically made for CS Majors, as ANYONE can take this for their Math Reasoning course, and I highly, highly recommend doing so. Programming is invaluable and easier than you think. 70% of Computer Science majors never wrote a single line of code during college. If you plan on doing graduate school or any form of research, you might have to throw some code in there, whether it be software engineering code or data analysis. Fuck R, use Python.

COSC 1437 (prev. 1430): Intro to Programming, Professor: Giulia Toti, Semester: Fall 2018

• Toti has left UH and started teaching at another institution. I recommend taking Dan or Rincon for this course. You will learn C++ and Java through the semester, and most of the code you learn will overlap with each other (with a small change in syntax in each language). ZyBooks was used to do all programming homeworks. ZyBooks is a decent platform that you can go through to read the material, learn it, write some practice code and then do your HW online. It will run your code against testcases. Sometimes you'll get them, other times you won't. So long as you can do the visible test cases, barring any code that's inefficient and takes too long, you'll pass them all just fine. I used DevC++ as my IDE at the time, before transitioning to ReplIt later on. The class wasn't too hard. I liked doing the Tetris project at the end then playing it in other classes that I didn't really care about lol.

COSC 2436 (Prev 2430): Programming and Data Structures, Professor: Nouhad Rizk, Semester: Spring 2019.

• I will always recommend Dr. Rizk for this course. If you can take Rizk, take Rizk. If not, take Dan. This is the weed out class. When I was taking it, the drop/fail rate was 50-60%. It's hard, and if you have to take it again, don't worry. I ended up becoming a PEER mentor and tutored some former classmates. All have walked the stage. This is the class that makes or breaks the CS majors. This class is HARD, but getting through it makes you "internship ready". You're going to need to learn some stuff about Linux to turn in your homework and run the testcases. There's a decent guide on Rizk's site on how to use it, and the TA's/Mentors should give you a guide on how to do it as it isn't too difficult. I used FileZilla and Putty together to get this done. I also used DevC++ in this class. To get into the meat and bones of this class, you're learning everything at a fast rate. Reading input from the files and doing shit with them, all the way up to graph theory (Dijkstra's Alg) with Linked Lists in between. Just show up to class, practice, and if you aren't sure, go to mentor hours, TA hours, or Rizk's hours. Rizk's memory is the level of Mike Ross from Suits so she WILL remember you and the attitude you have towards her class and CS overall. If you answer questions, participate, show your effort and fail everything, she'll pass you because you can demonstrate that knowledge another way. My favorite resource, the hero of CougarCS is Abdul Bari. This YouTube channel will get you through any explanation you need. The exams are pretty hard but sometimes it comes down to memorizing sorts and doing Leetcode problems (which this class will prepare you for). Get started on your homework early, this is NOT one you want to procrastinate on. For reference, I did the Linked List homework for fun three years later and it took about two hours instead of the few days the first time around. There used to be a lot of inconsistencies with this class but it's improved a lot and Dr. Rizk has won an award for her teaching efforts. Take any extra credit you can, sometimes showing up to enough office hours will get you some. There's also some random things she'll tell the Mentors to assign to anyone that shows up that will add points to a test or something. I have a lot of funny memories in this class, too. Crying sessions at the fountains after tests and being hopeful to pass and make it through the rest of UHCS. Heck, there were a bunch of jokes about infinite looping our code to break the Linux server so we can get an extension LOL. I wouldn't be a TA if it weren't for Rizk. She wrote one of my recommendations to grad school. She gave me one of the biggest opportunities I never knew I had to be a tutor and get more involved with the CS department.

COSC 2425 (Prev 2440): Computer Org & Architecture, Professor: Edward Gabriel/Kevin Long, Semester: Spr19/Fall20.

• I took this class in Spring 2019 with Gabriel (has since left) and dropped it, then took it in the Fall with Long. I like to call this the class I never took. Whenever a homework assignment would go out, we could use whatever resources we wanted. Cue the fact that a bunch of students would just work on it together in the GroupMe, and then afterwards I'll take it and turn it in. Everyone worked on the exam reviews together. This was the A I never put any effort into getting. Even if you're in it to learn about Architecture (or whatever concept Long teaches), do it. Seriously, he's an instructional prof and not a research prof. You're going to hear these two terms a lot in these later reviews. Instructional profs are here purely to teach and do research on the side (where most of them are here the other way around). His classes are easy but he WILL teach you. His curve is based on the person with the lowest grade but did every assignment, exam, etc. That person will be raised to a passing grade (or higher), then everyone else will follow that curve. I always recommend Long

COSC 3320: Algorithms and Data Structures, Professor: Ernst Leiss, Semester: Summer 2019.

• My oh my was this the A I had to put a lot of effort into. Leiss is a professor who will come in, lecture, and leave. This entire class was done in a month (afternoon class). It was two homeworks and two exams. You can use any language you want, but I used C++ and Java. That might be 'easy' but, you're going to be doing a lot of writing and programming in this class. The Towers of Leiss problem still lives rent free in my head. His office hours are pretty open and he'll answer questions at the start of class anytime you ask them. You'll hear the words "Any questions?" to start the class and "See you next time" to end them. For all exams and assignments, you're able to use literally whatever you want (with the exception of people and the internet on exam days). His reasoning was that "If I am your boss, I'm not going to lock you in a room and expect you to know the answer!". The TAs are pretty lenient in grading, but sometimes will be wildly inconsistent depending as to how they feel or which one you get. They know about Leiss' policies so they'll just roll with it. The assignments were also turned in on paper lmao. Leiss doesn't like online classes, like at all. He won't teach online. I don't blame him for it. I recommend him. He wrote my second letter of rec.

COSC 3340: Introduction to Automata, Professor: Ernst Leiss, Semester: Summer 2019.

• This would be the morning class during the Summer. All in a month too. Four exams, each at the end of the week. You could use whatever you wanted to, just no internet or other people (one guy got caught cheating on the final and kicked out of the class). The TA, who was the same for Algos too could get strict, but his grading was definitely lenient LOL. You learn a lot of stuff on the 'machine' level of this class. State Machines, Turing Tests, Search Algs. I remember writing like a one page answer on a state machine that was totally shit but I got it right. There was another student who wrote it right with like one character wrong and got docked for it. There were some students at either UT, TAMU, or UTD that would ask "Why does UH want you to suffer!?" when they heard that this class existed. Not too hard, just do the stuff and you'll get through. Nobody really cares about Automata and cheating on the exams was rampant. Now while Leiss is a great professor, I don't know which one of y'all motherfuckers sold their soul so Singh could teach the class consistently. Take Singh and go LOL.

COSC 4351/4353: Fundamentals of Software Engineering, Professor: Raj Singh, Semester: Fall 2019

• This class had three in person meetings. The first class, and the two exams (closed note). Other than that, you were doing homework about software engineering and it's methods (not code, just drawing stuff out), then writing a piece of software to present at the end of the semester. You're in a group of three people max and the biggest thing you learn in here is the Unit Test. Just some code to test what happens when things come in and out. Basically you write the testcases for your 2436 homeworks. In this class, my teammates did the homeworks and I just worked on the project. It was a basic website with a database aspect that would showcase links based on access levels. The exams were easy, heck, they were in ORDER and the reviews were very, very similar if not exact. Someone leaked the exam in the GroupMes so they were finished pretty quickly. You'll see a question about a specific step on the AGILE method, or you'll see "What is not software? Hardware." This is an effort A. Just do what you need to do and you'll be set. It isn't easy, but it just needs effort. I recommend Singh lol. You can use any language. For this one, I used PHP, HTML, and some JavaScript.

COSC 4348: Intro to Game Art and Animation, Professor: Chang Yun/Vincent Donatelli, Semester: Fall 2019

• The class nowadays is a lot easier than it used to be back then. The class nowadays is offered in the Spring with optional attendance, hybrid, and has seven homework assignments that all work with each other. Two are completion, four are drawing, and then the final project which just puts them all in a Unity scene. Back then, it was mandatory attendance with an in person assignment, a homework assignment, and a team based project game at the end. Everyone had to put their own art in the game. Donatelli (no longer here) was the primary professor for the course and would do everything pretty quick. As CS majors aren't really artists, it's good that Yun's taken over. I was on a 15 person team and led the programmers. We had a progress check every two weeks. If you didn't do your part, the professor would tell you to drop the class or face a zero. Donatelli was an industry veteran and there were some other whack hours in the class, such as an 8pm-11pm presentation time in PGH. Stayed all day on campus and ate Bullritos before going into that one. This class is NOT an easy A, even if it's easier than it used to be. Come prepared to get your stuff done. You'll learn basic C# in this course from a Unity tutorial.

COSC 4358: Intro to Interactive Game Dev, Professor: Chang Yun/Zhigang Deng, Semester: Fall 2019.

• If you're a competitive person, take this class. This is THE most fun class in UH CS. You'll be in a team of 4-8 and spend three months building a video game. All homeworks are completion (so just do them). Two individual, five team. Make sure to do your part because there's always a team or group of people that will get into fights and beef every year over it. Anyway, once you finish your seven homework assignments, your team will get into a 'duel' with another team. This means that your team has to show how good your game is against another one. Winner moves from D to C, then the duel later on will be C to B-. At the end of the semester, industry members, influencers, and UH Alumni will come in to playtest and judge your game. There'll be pizza, drinks, and it just becomes one big LAN party. You'll get some mean comments, but then they go into another room and rank your game from B- to A. Even if you have a really shit game, you will get at worst a B- for your project grade. You have the choice of using Unity (C#), Godot (Python), or Unreal Engine (C++/Visual Scripting) to build your game. Nearly everyone sticks with Unity because they already have Visual Studio, and C# isn't that hard to learn with the many tutorials out there. If you can get into this class, you're going to have a lot of fun. Dr. Yun also wrote my letter of recommendation and brought me into the world of video games for research.

In the middle of Spring 2020, COVID happened. The classes shifted online. Any fully online class will be noted from here on out
COSC 3360: Operating Systems, Professor: Jehan-Francois Paris, Semester: Spring 2020

• Oh god, OS. I heard the horror stories about this class but with Paris (retired/sometimes teaches it now), it wasn't too bad. Three homework assignments and three quizzes. The first HW was pretty hard and you could use any language. The other two were in C++ and had a guide to get it done. Quizzes were multiple choice. Paris had great real-world examples when he was trying to explain something. You were able to have a cheat sheet on the quizzes. Make sure to respect his lectures. He uses MOSS to check for plagiarism, and that was rampant in the first homework. The latter two didn't really matter in terms of running it. This also means variable names, nerds. Lots of partial credit available with Homework 1 (some kind of scheduler). I did all my code in ReplIt. Since Paris has retired (if you can't take him), I recommend taking it with Rincon. Cheng only if this is your last option.

COSC 3380: Databases, Professor: Uma Ramamurthy, Semester: Spring 2020

• This class was hard but so well worth it. A lot of people like to complain about how mean Uma is. Like wtf? This was the professor a lot of the older students told us to take REGARDLESS if you wanted to learn how to do this shit effectively. I still remember a lot of things about Databases that I use in here and whenever I quickly set up something for a solo project or testing something out. I'll never forget this quote "If you think your code runs perfectly the first time, you must be smoking something". Uma will humble you real quick if you walk in with a shit project before giving you a chance to fix it. Your project will be a webapp with heavy database usage. One challenge I had for this class was to generate 5000 random entries for each of the databases then insert them. The database stuff itself and tying it to the frontend wasn't too bad. It was an employee directory with salaries, jobs, tasks, vacation, etc. The exams were fairly difficult but after it went online, it was obvious what we were all doing. Group Projects can cause tension. This was the first time I had experienced tension with other group members, and we had all known each other in previous classes. This was a result of Uma tearing us each ten different kinds of asshole after seeing our rough draft of the final project. Thankfully, the group member that was our former TA for another class calmed us all down and we got out of the class with an A on the project.

COSC 4349: Game Art 2, Professor: Vincent Donatelli, Semester: Spring 2020

• This class was basically 3D Art and Animation. It is no longer offered. This is sort of what the Game Art 1 class is now, but the entire class worked on the group project at once. Each 'subgroup' worked on furniture for a different room, and we just threw it all in an Unreal scene and got our grade. I still use some of the 3D modeling techniques whenever I build games for educational stuff today.

COSC 4368: Intro to AI, Professor: Christoph "A" Eick,

• I actually remember a lot of this class being more math/theory based instead of writing AI code. I don't even think we wrote code in this class. Just a lot of simulation stuff, reports, and papers. This is a combined class with graduate students and gets you into the art and background of AI, instead of the random tutorials you see on YouTube where you literally know nothing of what it means. You are taking a theory heavy course. Eick has been at UH since the 80s and you can see fun facts about his favorite wines and hiking spots on his website from the late 90s. I remember putting "I don't know" a lot on some homeworks, and after the semester was over, his TA/PhD student reached out and offered to give me any advice or knowledge that I wanted to know about the subject. The exams weren't too difficult and were very similar to the review, I also believe they were open note. It made AI very interesting and I did understand a lot of the stuff. Eick is a pretty goofy prof and he'll just randomly giggle during lectures and put pictures of frogs on his exams. Has a huge similarity to Leiss.

COSC 4398: Independent Study, Professor: Nouhad Rizk, Semester: Spring 2020

• I wrote a paper and did some research for Rizk. This was not my best work, and was done the week before the semester had ended. It was about the diversification of individual skills instead of people/races/ethnicity in projects. Turns out there's more to it than I thought.

MATH 4322/4323: Data Science/Machine Learning, Professor: Poliak/Wang/Weber, Semester: Spring 2020

• A math class but this is the math class most CS majors take to get the minor. Programming is in R, the coding problems are easy, and the professors are great. You do a report at the end and you can walk out with a solid B if not an easy A by putting in the work. They are the Stats profs, so if you took any of them for 3339, you'll have a smiliar time with them. The last in person exam I took for this class before COVID was the Friday before Spring Break. I got a 62 because I was out at Rooftop (RIP) the night before. Just a week before, the exam was extended because of some water issue on campus causing classes to get cancelled. A week before that, Dr. Wang cancelled class beacuse she felt like spending time with her kid. This was the second Friday class I ever took, and was the last one I attended before the pandemic.

At this point, I finished my BS at UH. I took some classes in Spring 2021 'for fun'/prepping for grad school which helped me get a leg up now.
COSC 4370: Graphics, Professor: Zhigang Deng, Semester: Spring 2021.

• You'll learn OpenGL in this class, however I heard it has changed. You'll need to use more C++ knowledge and follow along tutorials on the website and YouTube videos. The tasks itself aren't too hard, and honestly you'll have fun with the Teapot Artwork assignment since you can do whatever mathematical wizardry you wanted to get some shapes on there. Some students were making crazy things. Others did smiley faces. Undergrads did exams while the grad students just presented a paper. Deng is good and this his a fun elective if you're interested in interactive media!

COSC 4377: Networking, Professor: Omprakash Gnawali, Semester: Spring 2021.

• I looked everything up on the exams even when he said he'd figure it out. Gnawali is a great prof. Not much coding, if at all, in this class. But a lot of Wireshark analysis and networking/packet/cybersecurity theory. I recommend Long for this class, though Gnawali is a great alternative. If you are a graduate student taking this course, Gnawali will be the only option for the combined class. Long will exclusively do the undergrad classes. Given the time since this class has been taught, I don't know much about how it goes today. Grad Students in the class were exempt from exams and did a paper presentation instead. If it's hybrid, you'll have an easy time. If everything is in person, a little bit of good luck.

COSC 6397 (Now COSC 4321): Selected Topics: Spatial Tech, Professor: Chang Yun/Faisal Sharif, Semester: Spring 2021.

• I loved this class and am very happy that it got bumped up to an official course. This was in the works for a few years with Faisal and Dr. Yun. Jared, a former Microsoft employee with a decent connection to UH and a huge veteran presence in XR also hopped on to teach the class. This class, our group did a project on an AR Solar System that you could project anywhere in the room and walk around it. There was a 'VR' project as well. I kept the AR app on my phone until I was mugged and the robber shot it. I might still have the file somewhere. You used Unity (C#) with Vuforia for AR and VR stuff. It was fucking cool seeing my little 3d things pop up on the picture of the opera lady. Highly recommend if you're interested in AVR stuff.

COSC 4393: Digital Image Processing, Professor: Pranav Mantini, Semester: Spring 2021.

• If you're interested in learning how Photoshop works in a code sense, this class is for you. The assignments are in Python and you'll be rotating images, cleaning up noise, performing image compression, and gaussian stuff. I still use the output of the botched code I wrote because they all looked like sad potatoes. The exams were online and not too lookup-able. The only sucky part was that it was an 8am. You'd put your homework on Github classroom and Jenkins would grade it for you. The TAs and Dr. Mantini knew their shit. If you were sus on a homework assignment, they'd call you into a meeting to clarify things. This was the case on the image rotation homework, as the slides showed you how to rotate by a corner instead of by the center.

These courses come from the start of my Masters program and the three required ones in the PhD. The reviews will be fairly shorter and straight to the point as you started to dabble in a lot more applied things if the classes were not entirely theory. The graduate program is a near totality of international students, so the work ethic and competitiveness goes up. On the other hand, the back-scratching and helping each other out is probably more rampant in undergrad but nobody really talks about it. This is the time where you see the professors absolutely shine in what they research. When you see a research prof teaching a course, you're going to learn much, much more than you expect because that is what they live and breathe daily here. My complaints about teaching vs research profs went out the window after this first semester of the MS
COSC 6324: Randomized Algorithms and Probabilistic Techniques in Computing. Professor: Gopal Pandurangan, Semester: Fall 2021

• What a tongue twister. This class is one chapter from Gopal's Graduate Algorithms class expanded to a whole semester. You'll learn a lot of concepts about the pure mathematical side of algorithms. That, expected values, randomization, hashing, and complexities you'll not even begin to understand. There weren't any exams. Just a paper presentation, a bunch of homework assignments that were written responses to crazy math problems. You couldn't google these easily, and I found solutions to some HW problems by copying like one line and finding it on a Russian website. The programming assignments were LeetCode questions with some of the most insane requirements you can imagine. The stuff was the most beautiful, digusting, messed up efficient wizardy I've ever had to write and this class absolutely helped me slay programming interviews left and right for the internship cycles ahead. It's hard, but good hard. The class had about eight students and it would go from lecturing to conversation about the topic at hand.

COSC 6347: Cybersecurity. Professor: Laszka, Semester: Fall 2021.

• As Laszka has left UH, I am unsure as to how the class is currently offered. At the start of the semester, he told us about our requirements and threw up a slide saying not to try anything in the class at home. Two programming assigments and the rest was just hacking shit on a VM he'd give us. The tests were multiple choice or fill in the blank, and you could pull them easily from the slides. Almost identical in that case.

COSC 6376: Cloud Computing. Professor: Weidong "Larry" Shi, Semester: Fall 2021.

• The HW in this class was very applied as we would learn new tech stacks and languages, one being 'pig latin'. A lot of the things here were follow a tutorial or look things up. The end of the semester was a huge project. In this project, we compared running an image classification task on separate cloud providers and their tiers. Thank God we had credit from each of the services or else the bills would have ran HIGH. No exams, easy A if you do the stuff. Dr. Shi is a pretty good prof in his line of work. His TAs do run the class and teach sometimes as they are in their final years and taking over the teaching aspect. Save this part for later.

COSC 6339: Big Data Analytics. Professor: Carlos Ordonez, Semester: Spring 2022.

• I have personal opinions about the teaching methods of Dr. Ordonez. Pre-COVID, I had always heard that he was a good prof for Programming Languages and Paradigms. However, after learning how he treated his 3380 class, I started to dread it a little. The homeworks were vague, grades weren't released until after our drop date, and he was definitely caught looking at his course reviews daily and probably writing his own (or having the TAs do it). In homework assignments or test reviews, if you were having an issue and you looked it up, it was literally his research work. I don't find that to be bad, actually, because it did give insight on the stuff that he did and it was definitely interesting. Ordonez is also one of the profs that tried to get undergrads in research along with Gnawali and Yang. I didn't enjoy this class much, at all, due to the exam structure and ways it was taught. But, a memorable homework was some entire Dijkstra's thing but for servers, and that was fun. I got it done while hopped up on whatever the dentist gave me. All was done in Python.

COSC 6373: Computer Vision. Professor, Ioannis Kakadiaris, Semester: Spring 2022

• Dr. K will openly admit to you, either privately or to the whole class that he is very arrogant. You'll see this arrogance but not mind it much if you aren't working with him directly. Kakadiaris is passionate about showing students how to research, especially if you're interested in anything medical. His goal in every class that he teaches is to make you an expert in such field. I don't think there was an exam in this class, but he would assign some of his former students or current PhD students to be a mentor in your final project. The homeworks and in class labs were 'follow the steps'. He and his TA were always available for help and made the class a lot of fun, especially when explaining the mathematical operations behind CV Algorithms. I always recommend Dr. K's classes. Personally, he helped me gain a leg up on how to effectively get through UH's red tape on getting research done involving human subjects. Helped me set up an entire 'research suite' on the computer. Everything was in Python

COSC 7336: Advanced Natural Language Processing. Professor, Rakesh Verma, Semester: Spring 2022.

• Unless you have any form of deep interest in NLP, for the love of Shasta, do NOT take this class. I got my second lowest exam grade ever (the first being Gopal's Grad Algos). Curves were done obviously but the highest grade on any given exam was like a 30 or 40. There were homeworks and paper presentations too. If you skipped X amount of question on the homework, it'd be a 0. If you skipped X items in the class, you'd get an F. I barely squeaked by with a B here. This was also a class with like, ten people in it. One student was an undergrad. She was insane in her craft and I believe ended up working with Verma directly on some research and got paid good for it. This class is another case of Verma being an excellent researcher but not so much a professor. He lived and breathed everything NLP or Cybersecurity and was damn good at it. I also didn't pay much attention in class, so maybe I'm wrong on the teaching part. Everyone struggled in the class as the general NLP class, offered by Dr. Solorio (who was a visiting scientest at Bloomberg at the time) wasn't being offered.

COSC 6351/6353: Software Design. Professor: Raj Singh, Semester: Summer 2022.

• This class is just like the undergrad version. Didn't change much, except the final project was an oil price order thing. I used Flask and Python instead of shitty ass PHP. The exam still featured the famous question: "What isn't software? Hardware". Never change, Raj.

This Summer was the 'great resignation' within UH CS. Toti, Laszka, and Gabriel had left UH for other opportunities. Paris put up for retirement and was promoted to professor Emeritus. Kam-Hoi Cheng left but nobody knew why.
COSC 6335: Data Mining. Professor: Christoph Eick, Semester: Fall 2022.

• Pretty simple class since the exams were open note and the homeworks were answering questions (similar to that of AI) and writing reports. Like AEick, you got more into the fundamentals and how all that stuff works instead of writing code. Lots of frogs on the pages and opportunities for extra credit. This is a good class to get done for your core track and the TA was pretty lenient too. You can get an entire preview of any Eick class from the website.

COSC 6370: Medical Imaging. Professor: Nikolaos Tsekos, Semester: Fall 2022.

• This is a fun class, you'll get an A or A- in it if you do everything. No exams, just a bunch of homeworks and a project. The homeworks were quite fun as we got to do stuff that applied to the medical industry, and the project that my team did was identifying babies at whatever term from an ultrasound. The project itself didn't prove well, but we got an A so didn't matter much. Python was the language to use, and a lot of the homework assignments come with the formulas and theories you needed. Not much of a 'follow the steps' kind of thing, more of a 'here is what you need, good luck' kind of thing. Easy recommend. Tsekos is hilarious. "Do not make your grandmother die twice in a semester!".

COSC 6386: Program Analysis and Testing. Professor: Amin Alipour, Semester: Spring 2023.

• This class had three homeworks taken from a public textbook about software testing. "The Fuzzing Book". Not too difficult at all. What was fun was the paper presentation. I had just bought a Flipper Zero and got to demonstrate it as part of the presentation. The final project was basically the class split into two groups. My group recreated, to the best of our ability, MOSS. We made our own code plagiarism checker using NLP and tokenization of variables. We then saw how much of our own code was plagiarised with each other form old assignments lol, and it picked up on variable changing pretty quick. All was done in Python with AI aspects. All in Python/JuPyter

ENTR 7390: Technology Entrepreneurship. Professor: Tanushree Chatterji, Semester: Spring 2023.

• As a UH CS student, you can find up to six (or twelve?) related credits from outside CS to apply towards your coursework requirements. Anyway Bauer needs to stop being a bitch and let undergrads take their version of this class. I first heard of this course when I took Game Art, when Dr. McCormick came in and gave an entire guest lecture on how to take your startup game into the tech industry. She told us we could enroll but Bauer pretty much stopped any CS major from joining it.Since it was more lenient, I got into the graduate version with Dr. Chatterji. When I say that Bauer has the resources, they've got them. This class consisted of speakers in the startup space, UH alums and not coming in to talk about their experiences and give advice. The assignments were very business and tech oriented. I also got access to RedLabs as the prof is the director of it. She knows who to set you up with if you need it. If only the CS majors could have a piece of this the school could be seeing more money flowing into their donations since a lot of high paid Coogs like to give back. Met a ton in the club section at Fertitta. Holy moly.

At this point, I had completed my Masters. The next three courses were required for the PhD
COSC 6110: Graduate Colloqium. Professor: Ernst Leiss, Semester: Fall 2023.

• This class was easy. Attend five seminars, write reviews on them, get satisfactory review scores, and present a topic of your choice. You will get roasted by Leiss, but he also teaches you how to roast presenters. PhD students are required to visit five seminars minimum a semester, so you'll see some really good speakers and really shitty ones. This is also an opportunity to see who UH could be hiring on as a prof soon. Dr. Yang, Das, and Lin were all hired on the semester after giving a seminar talk at UH. There are currently two open spots that are looking to be filled, and I was able to sit in and evaluate one of the faculty candidates. This is where you can see the cool stuff going on in University Research.

COSC 6320: Data Structures and Algorithms. Professor: Gopal Pandurangan. Semester: Fall 2023.

• This class is the Algo Asylum. Fucking difficult. But you had Gopal and Khalid. There are no stupid questions in this class, but it was HARD. It made undergrad Algos look like taking candy from a baby. You have to fight your way out of it. Four exams similar to the HW of 6324, and the programming assignments too. God this class was hard. Still recommend Gopal always tho. They were ALWAYS willing to help. Python was the language of choice.

COSC 6342: Machine Learning. Professor: Ricardo Vilalta. Semester: Fall 2023.

• This class was two exams and a few assignments. The exams by the type of question weren't hard, but the questions themselves sucked. You had to memorize a lot of terminology, equations, vocab words, variables, etc. There weren't any word banks or references on the exams though. This, I just didn't know how to study well for. Everything came from the slides but they were very broad. Vilalta is a great prof and does curve. Good at his research.

COSC 6385: Computer Architecture. Professor, Weidong "Larry" Shi. Semester: Spring 2024.

• The end of the road! I dropped this class in Spring 2023 because I didn't need it to graduate, but then had to take it again because it was required for the PhD. The homeworks aren't hard, neither was the paper presentation or the experiments. But the exams did suck. I don't know how it will be tomorrow, but so long as I pass it, I'm good and I just get to research my way out of here and never have to sit a fucking exam ever again. It's been a long time coming and I can't wait to finish it up :) Python is your langauage here.

At this point, I'm doing whatever 8X98 and 8X99 is required of me. I have an RCE (just a long presentation), a doctoral proposal, and a defense, then the academic journey is over. I feel like the biggest hurdle was leapt.
My thoughts on UHCS. In Fall 2018, there were only 1300 students in the department. Everyone in their graduating class knew each other. You'd sometimes meet people in GroupMes to work on homeworks or projects together, but never see each other in real life. Or did you? There was a lot of weird ways to cheat or get by in class. There was a decent community, and people who wanted to help other students definitely did. I'll never forget cramming into a room with a bunch of other kids while the tutor for 2436 held a review session days before the exam. The jokes about overloading the servers, and the hopeful nature before COVID hit. Everyone seemed friendly, and it didn't seem at all like a few complaint posts that were put up earlier about superiority complexes or whatever.
There are now 2300+ students in the department and it will probably be 3k within the next few years. Classes are getting tighter, it's getting more competitive, and UH isn't giving CS the attitude it deserves. MIS and CIS are getting pumped, CS is just... There. NSM took over the Fall career fair like wtf? Cullen and NSM are going to get in competition over this stuff as CS to Cullen should have happened (and on several accounts, was rumored and about to go through the process) but then didn't happen, and CS wants the juice.
I've seen students in 1336 get caught with ChatGPT like fucking dumbasses, but on the other hand, the talent level of the juniors and seniors at UH CS is FUCKING INSANE. The post-COVID generation of UH CS is going to be the reason the rank and perception skyrockets. Alums of years past are surprised with how Coogs are getting picked off left and right from UH compared to other schools.
The department is focusing on hiring new blood that will help push the department to newer heights in terms of more modern research. The older professors are preparing to retire, we just don't know when or if. Tenure is hard to achieve, but the cycle is definitely happening.
That's all, I'm going to bed. Go Coogs!
Edit: I'm done! And I got through all the classes without taking Hilford or either Cheng so SUCK ON THAT UH

I won't lie about our relationship being complicated. Both of us done an amount of damage to this relationship but we still love each other. This time looks to be the end of our relationship.
We've been together for two years and a couple of months and during those two years there was a heavy foul play. I cheated on him with my roommate, who was my ex, and after that went down he decided to get me out of my apartment and give me a chance. After that, months later, everything was mildly okay as he was still recovering from the situation. We both worked at the same office along with several people. Curiously, we had the idea to have a threesome with one of our female coworker (23F). It was messed up because she was (actively still is) in a relationship with a dude that was soon to be deploying to the military. She only did the things with us because she liked us sexually and was curious about the idea. She worked the first shift and we were second. The three of us were messing around with each other for months at work, message, and ect. We were having fun until my depression caved in heavy and I was thinking about suicide very fondly.
By this time, My boyfriend and I had gotten our first apartment together and it's been a year since the situation has happened. It went on for months that I felt so lifeless but my boyfriend didn't really support or gave me affection because he still has resentment to what happened in the past. That didn't help in my situation because I just keep saying it's my fault for everything that has happened. I just kept saying that I was a shitty girlfriend. I told him to end things with said coworker because I don't feel comfortable with the idea anymore. I just wanted him to focus on me or attempt to help me. I had told him that he can still be friends with her, just so I can try to be there bigger person. I even said that I stopped being friends with her because she made me jealous. That was a mistake.
Everything went down in the month of December. There was one day that he was dropping off to work and there was a ton of traffic, as expected since we live in a big city. There was nowhere to go on the road and to top it all off it was raining heavy. I was already super late to work and I noticed he was texting on his phone constantly. When I asked him who he was texting, he told me that it was said coworker and I got furious. Why was he thinking about another women's safety when she already has a boyfriend to do that? He didn't even talk to me about if I felt comfortable or if I gave consent. Not to mention that we got a new car because we were in a crash previously. That's our car. In a rage, I got out of the car and walked in the rain to work. I ended up getting hit by two cars because of how heavy the rain was and how small I am that they didn't see me. Once I got to work, said coworker was sitting in the office waiting for my boyfriend to pick her up. She saw me drenched in rain and hurt. She texted my boyfriend saying that maybe it isn't a good idea to take her but proceed to do it. He dropped her off at home safe and sound while I was aching in pain. My boss ended up telling me to go home because I was in no working condition. I get home and I lashed out at him to immediately block her from everything. The next day, I disinfected my car and sprayed my perfume in there out of pettiness; However, he was still texting her behind my back and telling her what I did to our car. They both called me crazy and then he proceed to say that his friendship with her is more valuable.
Few days later, I found out that I was pregnant and was over the moon. I'm infertile so for me to be expecting was a miracle. I was going to surprise him by having my pregnancy be his Christmas gift. It was then that I had a terrible feeling in my stomach that something was wrong. I checked his phone one day and I saw that he was cheating on me with said coworker. they've been sexting and him sending photos to her. I was heart broken and a million things ran to my mind. I kept quiet and I made an appointment to the abortion clinic. I killed the one thing that I wanted most. My own baby. My own family.
The new year starts and I just went crazy one day after the abortion psychologically messed me up. I almost ended myself by locking myself in the bathroom and nearly eating rat poisoning. He busted through the door and kept screaming at me that why does he have to deal with this. He kept dragging me all over the bathroom floor and I felt hopeless. Later that night, I had told him that he had one more shot to tell me the truth about everything. He said that he had her in his contacts still but that was it; to which, I ended up telling him that that's not it and proceeded to confront him about what I knew.
Since that day, I have been hacking through his phone 24/7 to make sure that he wasn't cheating on me with anyone. He knows about this. He was creeped out and annoyed. I learned how to hack from being in AP computer science and I took an interest in it since I was a nerd in high school. Months later, I had to be forced out of my job by my boss since my boyfriend is now a supervisor and didn't was to spark any problems in the department out of favoritism. I've been a stay-at-home fantasy-living house wife maintaining the house and taking care of his husky Echo. Since he's become supervisor, I already came to terms with myself that he has to talk to the said coworker about work and I have to put myself in check. However, my jealousy and insecurities kept getting the best of me, which kept mentally frustrating me. My depression and suicidal thoughts have been at a sky high. I was still hacking into his phone until one day I said that enough is enough. I didn't want to continue living like this and had to put trust in him. I thought to myself that if he can trust me after everything that's happened then I can trust him too. Days went on and I felt never better despite still being stressed about finding a new job to pay for rent.
Then, I get a text from a former coworker of mine to check up on how I'm doing. We talked and catch up on things until he told me that it really wasn't the main reason why he texted. He told me that he just wanted to let me know that my boyfriend was talking to said coworker. I tried to tell him that it's probably about work and that I shouldn't worry; however, that wasn't the case and he said that they were in the office talking about random things and her stupid book. Everything came back to me like a car crash. I was just heart broken and confused. Why did he keep that information from me? I confronted him about this and he kept saying that nothing happened. He said that there were other people in the conversation and not just her. That was fact checked by a friend of mine that works in that office. I told him that why would he keep it a secret if there was nothing going on to which he replied saying "if I did tell you, you would've lashed out at me just like before". I ended the conversation with "All I asked is for your honesty. I know your job title requires you to talk to people including her. If you really didn't do anything to hide then why try to hide a truth? I've been open and honest to you in everything ever since what happened two years ago" At the end of it all he just looked beaten down and tired of all the arguments we went through about my insecurities and depression. Many sleepless nights and silent treatments. Broken trust. He ended by saying "I don't know what to do. I'm just so tired. I'm just tired". I asked if he still loves me and he said yes but he's just tired.
I know that a lot of it is my fault. He's just tired of me hacking his phone all the time and having little to no privacy. He's tired of always being depressed. He blames me for even getting the apartment for us at the beginning because it caused him to destroy his family's lively hood. He was their only source of income out of the 5 brothers and his sick mother. He only did it for me. Luckily they live below us as our neighbors and his younger brother with us. I love his family a lot and I became one of them.
I asked him if he regrets being with me and he said that it's 50/50 because he loves me but he home wrecked everything I had when I was in my pervious relationship. I had my life set out with a man and I was engaged. Somehow, when I met my current boyfriend I saw something in him that I just wanted to fix and be with. Call it a miracle but something told me to get to know him and sure enough I just fell in love with him. Today, before he left to work, he said if he can ask me something to which I said sure. He asked "It's agreed that we're both on our last straw right?" My heart ached but I responded "I don't want it to. To ask if it's my last straw with you? No but I know that it is for you." He was silent and I asked if that's all, which he said "No that's not all. I just wish I had the time to talk but I have to go."
What should I do? We went through so much together. Two car crashes. Bailing out of jail for a warrant arrest on a missing court date. Getting our apartment. Getting our two cars. Both our physical health issues (I have messed up kidneys and he has heart murmurs). Is there anything that could be done about this? I really don't have any one to talk about this and I need advice. I love him so much and I can't bare another loss. I lost everything in my life just to be with him. We both made huge sacrifices.

Writing this because I see a lot of posts wondering what their chances are or if they should even apply. YC grad here. This isn't official YC advice, but a practical guide based on my experience getting in and helping applicants prepare applications and one that helps me in recommending applicants to YC. The core idea is that YC is looking for a compelling reason to invite you for an interview; your application just needs to provide them with that excuse. Here’s a simplified scoring system I use to determine what to focus on in the application and one you could use to assess your interview chances:
(Give yourself 1 point for each criterion met):
HAVE YOU DONE ANYTHING IN THE LAST 100 DAYS (1 POINT FOR EACH):

1. Growing Revenue: The most straightforward indicator that people want what you're offering. Even earning a dollar can set you apart, as many haven't made any money despite significant effort.
2. Signed Contracts: In the absence of current revenue, having signed contracts shows potential future income.
3. Letters of Intent (LOIs): For long-term projects like jet engine production or an enterprise insurance company pilot where revenue is delayed, LOIs can be a substitute for immediate revenue.
4. Active Usage: If revenue isn’t part of your current picture, active user engagement is a strong sign that there’s demand for what you’re making. YC can help with monetization strategies later.

ARE YOU CAPABLE OF DOING ANYTHING IN THE NEXT 100 DAYS (1 POINT FOR EACH):

1. Previous Success or Notable Failure: Whether it’s a past venture with viral uptake, revenue, or a noteworthy exit, or even an honorable failure, these experiences suggest you’re capable of success.
2. Top-tier Work Experience: Experience as an early team member at a YC-backed startup/rocketship companies like UBER, SLACK or CANVA (yeah FAANG counts too) shows you understand the grind or have the experience and network to make shit happen.
3. Prestigious Education: Attending a renowned school (e.g., Stanford, MIT, Harvard, Oxford, Sciences Po or some of India's IITs) implies a high level of potential and achievement. If you have to ask if your school is prestigious, it’s not. Sorry.
4. Deep Domain Expertise: Deep expertise in a specialized area (like drug discovery or photonics), particularly if you have some insight on how software could unlock value, demonstrates significant promise. This would make you the right person to build that startup.

YC'S WILDCARD QUESTION: YC IS HUMBLE ENOUGH TO ACKNOWLEDGE BLINDSPOTS AND ASK THIS INTERESTING QUESTION TO FIND FOLKS THEY OTHERWISE MAY MISS YC's application process includes a unique question that can serve as a wildcard in assessing potential candidates. This question focuses on an applicant's ability to "beat the system" creatively and effectively. YC asks “Please tell us about the time you most successfully hacked some (non-computer) system to your advantage”
For the significance of this question i just quote 2 important people:
Paul Graham on the Impact of the Wildcard Question:

1. "There's one question that acts like a wildcard, at least for me," says YC co-founder Paul Graham. He explains that a compelling response to this question can make him reconsider an application that might not have initially stood out. "We're looking for people who like to beat the system. So if the answer to this question is good enough, it will make me go back and take a second look at an application that otherwise seemed unpromising. In fact, I think there are people we've invited to interviews mainly on the strength of their answer to this question." (Source: Y Combinator, July 2009, How to Apply)

Sam Altman's Contribution to the Question:

1. Sam Altman,(Founder of Open AI and YC alum) who suggested this question said. "Ask about a time when they'd hacked something to their advantage—hacked in the sense of beating the system, not breaking into computers," Altman advised. This question has since become one of the most significant in judging applications. (Source: Paul Graham, October 2010, Founders)

This question is designed to identify non-traditional candidates who demonstrate resourcefulness and innovation, key traits for successful entrepreneurs. To summarize, if you check a few of these boxes your likelihood of getting an interview is actually quite high. Conversely, if don’t check any of these boxes, your likelihood of being 1 of the ~1500 interviewed is super low. I am not trying to be discouraging or saying that one should not apply. The process of applying itself is useful. It helps you think through your startup in a holistic way. I know some of you will interpret this as “unless you are Ivy league or FAANG you wont get into YC”. We applied 4 times (2 years - once every 6 months) before we got in. We had zero points in this framework in our first application.. We were able to go from zero points to getting in, because we did not give up and continued to chip away at the problem, got revenue, and showed great growth that could eventually make a compelling application. If we can get in, anyone who is willing to work hard can. Good luck folks!

To preface this post, I want to give the disclaimer that like many things, there is not a black and white answer the question. I'm writing this as an experienced tech professional, and the information provided is based on opinion.
To start with. A little bit of history..
The golden age of software engineering(and similar jobs) is over. At least for the next 5 - 10 years. I don't think this is an unpopular opinion. The reason why between the years of 2010 - 2022, these jobs exploded, was because of the boom of the internet for commercial and personal use.
This is different from the dotcom boom of 2000s, where the internet was just starting and most of the products being created were for basic things like: putting banking on the internet, putting videos on the internet, etc.
The boom in the 2010s was related to the widespread popularity of commercial and personal products. Things like Uber, Spotify, and Salesforce. With the sudden increased usage of the digital world, there were MILLIONS of companies rushing to create digital products.
However, we're starting to see the rise and fall of some of these products, millions of startups failings, and less VC funding. In case you don't know, VC stands for Venture Capital, which are basically investment companies that give money to other companies to help them grow and develop, in return for partial ownership of the company.
As the industry began to mature, successful companies started to emerge, and many more started to fail.
The present day..
Software engineering and like jobs will continue to be important, and there will be a high demands for these engineers. Nearly every company will still need a website, a place to manage their data, and people to manage their hardware. BUT.. the basic technologies they need to run their company will become more efficient. AND there will be less research and innovation because the a lot of the trial and error already occurred.
We're in a weird spot where the demand for workers is now decreasing from it's recent peaks, and the supply of workers is now increasing because of how all the benefits of being a software engineer in the past decade.
This has really unfortunate consequences for any recent graduates or others trying to break into the tech field. There are WAY more beginning career people than jobs available. Which is made even worse with the amount of layoffs there are, where mid-level employees are now having to settle for entry level jobs.
What can we do?
I have two pieces of advice for people interested in the topic, or wanting to break into the field but can't. Try breaking in from a adjacent field, where you can get some exposure to tech. Things that data entry, analytics(this can be finance, supply chain etc). Then try to learn as much as you can from the tech people at your company.
The second piece of advice. Go into a different field. Software engineering is not for everyone. You have to learn and understand some relatively complex topics, and it's becoming harder and harder to be competitive in the industry. Healthcare, supply chain, and many other industries are booming right now.
Understanding history, you can see that certain industries will rise and fall. For the near future, technology might be one of the harder careers to break into. Something like healthcare would be that's expected to grow exponentially. The average population of the world is getting older, as less and less people are wanting to have kids. There will be higher demand for healthcare professionals and healthcare technology.
Do your best to review and understand these trends, and hopefully you can create a good life and career. Best of luck!
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Okay, now this is the actual penultimate chapter until things really kick off and Chekov's artillery brigade rains hell upon our favorite characters. Make sure to stay tuned for the next chapter to not miss a thing! As always, thanks again to u/SpacePaladin15 for creating this world we've had so much fun digging deeper into, and thanks to u/Acceptable_Egg5560 for cowriting this with me. Just try not to get your account hacked again, that was ass.
[First]-[Prev]-[Next]
Memory Transcription Subject: Vekna, Startled Investigative Journalist. Date [Standardized Human Time]: October 31st, 2136
Gah, why do they have to make alarms so loud??
Malcos’ whips his head around, looking at an abandoned console as it begins to light up with all manner of alerts and alarms. Many voices start pouring into the room at the same time, each garbled slightly by the console’s obviously older speaker system. Malcos rushes towards it and holds a corded microphone to his mouth. “Stop shouting! One at a time, what in the name of the Herd is going on up there?!”
Despite his attempts, the voices keep pouring in as a nearly incomprehensible mess of voices, but I, and it would seem Malcos as well, can just recognize something about a cloud of something topside. Upon receiving news that Sharnet enacted the first part of her plan, my tail starts to wag behind me, thumping into the side of the vent shaft before I can stop it. Malcos’ ears immediately swivel to my position and I just barely manage to duck away from the vent grate before he gets a look at me. I hold my breath as I listen to the chaos of the room beneath me. That was too close, I need to be more c-
-CHKCHKCHKCHKCHKCHKCHKSCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-
The sudden noise startles me something awful, my chest starting to feel tight. No, I can’t. Just breathe in, hold, out, breathe in- okay that’s all I have time for. New alarms join the already existing one, sounding vastly different from the whines of before. I can just hear the door slide open briefly through the cacophony before a muffled voice yells out, “Sir! There’s a gas of some kind below!”
I crawl back, angling myself just right to get a view of what the guard’s talking about. To my shock, I see a rich purple gas spewing out of every ventilation shaft and flowing like water into the hangar down below. But that means…Sharnet, what did you do?? I quickly lick a finger and hold it up to the flowing wind of the shaft. I can feel it flowing towards the direction of the noise that startled me, meaning that I likely only have a sparse few [seconds] before I’m hit with a face-full of that gas. Given where I am, I can reasonably assume what it’s likely to be.
As can Malcos.
The scarred Venlil bleats exasperatedly and slams his paw on the console. “Oh for Spehk’s Sake!! Guards, clear the catwalks and make sure that these two get masks. They need to be sober for what’s about to happen to them!” Malcos bares his teeth at Vane, who beeps like the coward he always was. Malcos starts walking over to one of the emergency boxes, pulling a mask out of one of them. Aha!! “After leading the journalists right to us, you’d better be glad I’m not killing you myself, Vane. The Exterminators will do far wor-”
As Malcos is just starting to put on his mask, I kick out the ventilation grate and fall down into the room. The occupants barely have time to react before I’ve landed atop one of the guards, quickly pressing my gun to the side of their head and pulling the trigger. To my severe relief, only a buzz emits and the unmarked Exterminator falls to the ground like a bunch of pipes. I roll away as the guard lands, righting myself just in time to get a shot off on the other guard. They, too, fall down to the ground. Now, emergency kit!!
I look around frantically for what feels like an eternity until I spot an unattended one on the wall adjacent. I can vaguely see Vane and Clemmit conspiring over something, but that’s an issue for once I’m safeguarded from who-knows-what-drug that’s about to fill the room. I stand and tear open a rickety, rusted emergency kit, clutching my weapon tightly in my hand as I grab the dusty mask held within. However, just as it separates from its brittle latchings, I feel an intense heat next to my paw and my weapon is blasted away from me. It ricochets off the wall and spins below another console, in the same direction as the source of the blast.
“So you’re one of the journalists, I presume,” Malcos’ gravelly voice growls behind his now-applied mask from across the room, a much more modern-looking plasma pistol clutched in his paw. How did I miss that he was armed? He wasn’t! When did he draw?! “I would ask whether you’re Sharnet or Vekna, but in truth I don’t much care. You both have graduated from annoyance to full-blown threat, and will now be treated as such. I assure you, my age hasn’t impacted my aim. Given how generous of a host I am, I’ll give you a demonstration!”
I just barely manage to duck down as I watch a bolt of plasma hit where my head had just been, followed by two more shots that both hit lower than the last. Thankfully, the mask had fallen with me, so I quickly slip it on…only to realize that it’s obviously designed for Kolshians. Why the Brahk is there a Kolshian mask in here?!? The effect of the anatomical mismatch is that the eye-holes don’t perfectly align with my actual eyes, resulting in most of my periphery being completely eliminated. So this is what it’s like to have forward-facing eyes. Figures I’d die as even more of a predator.
“If you think that I’ll let you or your meddling compatriot leave this place alive, you’re sorely mistaken.” Malcos growls out as I hear his footsteps and whirring brace approach, each pace slow and methodical as if he were toying with prey. “You are not the first I’ve killed in service of this empire, and you will not be the last! Not this paw! The Solgalick’s Eye aerosol will be the least of your issues without a working brain to process it, you meddling idiot!” As he moves closer, I take a deep breath, allowing myself the full cycle this time around.
In, hold, out.
In, hold, out.
…Focus, breathe…
…Calm.
Malcos may think he’s taunting his prey, but all he’s doing is enraging another Predator.
With speed I didn’t know I had, I swing around the side of the console and charge towards Malcos. He attempts to shoot me, but I just barely manage to weave through his shots. No matter his skill, our eyes will always make aiming difficult. I can see him pulling the trigger again as my head connects with his torso, sending the both of us flying backwards towards the observation windows. I can hear the air leave Malcos’ lungs, but I likewise feel a horrible, burning strip across my back.
We both fall down to the ground on opposite sides of what looks like an depressed, open-concept control center. I can hear the older Venlil hack and wheeze as he tries to refill his lungs as I reach a few fingers to my back, trying to ascertain the source of the pain. To my dismay, they return lightly coated with blood, confirming a hit. Thankfully, the shot had been glancing, but that still left me with a nasty burn from the plasma. Bastard.
I manage to stand, pushing the stinging pain of my wound as far back in my mind as I can. Malcos, still wheezing, props himself against a wall-bound console as he glares at me with the furious hatred of a thousand suns. “W-Why You… You have the…audacity?? I’ll kill you myself, you vyalpic dyke!!” I see him start to lift his arm, so I leap across space and tackle him onto the stairs. I hear a shot zip past my shoulder as I wrap my paws around his weapon, fighting desperately to rip the weapon out of his grasp.
“You- Won’t- Win- This!” Malcos cries and he writes and thrusts against me as we wrestle for control of the firearm. Despite my best efforts, he begins to get the better of me as the path of the barrel shakes closer and closer to my head. Once it reaches a point of no return, I quickly dodge in the direction of the barrel and let off my pressure, taking a severe chance that he overshoots and gives me the advantage. I see the barrel whiz past the binocular areas I can see through, and my right ear is nearly singed by the blast.
That’s right, you monstrous bastard, you can’t best a fellow predator!
I quickly moved to wrench the gun from his weakened grip. This is my last chance!! I feel my claws being resisted by an object, and pull with the most force I ever have. The implement goes flying out of his paws, shattering one of the observation windows as it falls to the drug-filled cavern below. Guess the windows were made with silicon glass instead of Lucinsteel. Cheap. I turn my attention towards Malcos, looking as his features betrayed his horror at being bested. I don’t care how bad this makes me, I won’t let you-
Before I can finish that thought, my vision multiplies as I’m hit in the head by a point-blank headbutt from Malcos, the disorientation causing me to lose my balance and fall down to the ground. Gah, that Herd-damned-! By the time I regain enough faculties to look around, I see…nothing? Right, periphery! I quickly swivel my head to scan the room as purple gas starts to pour in from the vents. Lo and behold, there’s Malcos making a break for the door.
Unfortunately, he had been able to get too much of a head start, allowing him to reach the door before I even make it to my feet. He looks back at me after tampering with the control panel, a malicious expression on his scarred face. “Enjoy being locked in here! If Vane isn’t going to take the fall, then I suppose you will! Enjoy your fiery death, Bitch!” He then slams the door shut, likely making it towards the lifts to exit using the same maintenance tunnel we used to get here. His comment makes me realize that Vane and Clemmit are no longer here either, meaning they must have escaped during the fight.
Thankfully, I prepared for such an occasion.
I remember how the vent is a straight shot towards the lifts, as opposed to the twists and turns of the catwalks. If I run through them, I’ll be able to beat Malcos to the lifts. Perhaps I should let him get a whiff of the fumes. With the mask having survived the headbutt, I rush towards the vent and pull myself into it, with slightly more trouble thanks to the burn on my back. Not caring about stealth now, I stand in the large vent and run as fast as I can against the air blowing against me. I Need to beat him there.
It’s only a few [seconds] before I come to the vent, and almost before I can think, I jump kick through and come to a landing… on Malcos’ shoulders. We both go tumbling to the floor, part of my torso almost hanging over the edge of the suspended catwalk. Oh that tingle doesn’t feel good. Malcos grunts as he struggles to right himself thanks to the exhaustion from our efforts, the cavern below us and even our own feet now completely blocked by purple clouds. I can feel myself panting as well, but I don’t care. Malcos needs to go down.
“OUT OF MY WAY!!” Malcos screams as he charges at me this time, his head leveled right for my stomach. That’s right you violent bastard, do that. I muster all the strength I can and jump up, my groin just barely clearing his skull. He stumbles forward in an attempt to stop, and I take the opportunity to tackle him to the ground, my claws slipping under his mask and pulling it off his face. Malcos gasps as he realizes what’s going on, but it’s too late to do anything about it.
“You locked the door and left me alone, did you now?” I hiss venomously in Malcos’ ear, a horrible ecstasy flowing through me at the opportunity to enact all my deepest, predatory desires under the guise of righteous fury. If I have to become a monster to stop a monster, then it’s all worth it. “Very hypocritical, Malcos.”
I keep myself steady on top of him as he tries to squirm away, this time being face down as not to pose another headbutting risk. His arms flail behind him as I hear him take more and more breaths of whatever substance Sharnet released into the vents. I can tell that it’s having an effect, as his movements start to become slower, heavier. As I think about that, though, I begin to realize something alarming. My own are doing the same.
I CAN’T BREATHE!!
I should have expected a shortlung attack with all this, but me being the fool I am, I hoped that it wouldn’t come. I fall off of Malcos as I start to root around in my pouch. I can barely see through the restrictive eye-holes of the mask, so I go off of tactile feeling alone. Nonononono-YES!! I pull out a bulb of my inhalant, the last one I have actually. I quickly seal it with the filter latches in the mask and squeeze. My chest suddenly feels like it’s as big as the cavern itself and I’m allowed to breathe again. Once I have some oxygen in my system, I swivel around to look for our target.
A clearly inebriated Malcos stumbles a fair distance away from me, entering one of the lifts as he slurs something to me that I can’t quite understand. I quickly stand and bolt into the second lift, watching as he makes his way towards the tunnel. However, as I’m descending, I see something unexpected. Far further, towards another set of lifts that went all the way down to the loading area, are Vane and Clemmit. The latter is almost dragging the former towards them due to the differences in mobility, both of them having species-appropriate masks. The Yotul must have managed to get the braces back on him!
I think that I can probably stop them if I make it, but I don’t want to leave Sharnet to deal with Malcos alone. He might be running now, but what will his drug-addled mind do when faced with whatever inescapable obstacle she has cooked up? I briefly look between the two groups before making the clear and obvious decision. If Vane escapes, he escapes. Malcos can Not go free again. I veer in the direction that the predatory overseer goes. He’s surprisingly fast like this.
As he closes in on the tunnel, the gas starts to fill all the way up to the roof of the cavern. It’s so thick that I lose sight of Malcos for a brief moment, thanks in part to the awful visibility from behind the mask. Beats breathing in whatever this stuff is at least. As I near the tunnel as well, I can just make out a silhouette ascending the stairs, the gentle whirring of his brace giving Malcos away. I hasten my pursuit, pushing the limits of my medication as I bound up the inordinately long flight of stairs after him.
He Won't Escape This Time, not if I can help it!!
{-Command Requested: Awaiting Input-}
{-[USERID-11229KMD]: switchTrns_Sub -}
{Oh my God, do you have to look at every single angle of this fight? Get on with it!!}
{...Whatever, just hurry it up. You’re going to get behind on your courses at this rate.}
{-Please Enter Name: [Sharnet] -}
{-Searching… 11639 Matches Found-}
{-Import Timeframe Settings? (Y)/N -}
{-Importing…11 Matches Found-}
{-Import Last Location? (Y)/N -}
{-Importing…1 Match Found-}
{-Play From Last Timestamp? (Y)/N -}
{-Playing…-}
Memory Transcription Subject: Sharnet, Crafty Investigative Journalist. Date [Standardized Human Time] October 31st, 2136
I had to think fast. Malcos was a drug lord, he would have a gun for certain. I either had to pin him in a way that his arms couldn’t grab the gun, or trap him in a way that I would be out of his line of fire! Okay! But he would have to have some experience with violence given his past. Actual experience that I didn’t have, no matter how many times I got angry and lashed out.
That cut out any plan of pinning him down, leaving only trapping. I needed to think about what I have around. The herds had already cleared out, they had knocked over all the guiding ropes and tail poles that organized how pilgrims traveled through the temple. Hm, I can’t use others to take him-
Wait! Rope!!
I dashed towards where a strand was tied to a pillar, my body moving almost as fast as I could think. When building the refugee shelter, Jacob has shown everyone how to make a kind of lasso loop to help haul things up into ceiling. Tie a knot leaving a loop, and pass the other end of the rope through that loop. Pull on the rope, and the newly created lasso would close around whatever was inside. I could set it down where Malcos would run when he exited the passage and pull it tight around his leg when he emerged!
My hands moved fast, finishing the knot at the same time as my thoughts. I carried it next to the exit, laying the trap upon the floor where he would have to step. I would be able to pull him- Wait, even if I pulled from behind the pillar, he would still possibly be able to run towards me to shoot me. No, I need to pull it from somewhere he can’t easily reach.
My eyes cast themselves around the room, taking it all in as I tried to deduce the best position. There were all the pillars out in the foundation area, but their design was such that they couldn’t be climbed on. However, the room itself had an elevated walk-around so people could get another point of view of Solgalick’s statue. High ground, perfect!
I dashed to the access stairs, trailing the rope behind me so as not to disturb the lasso loop. I heard my claws clink against the metal stairs as I climbed. I could feel my chest aching from the exertion, but I couldn’t give up now. Not when I’m so close!
I didn’t know what I was doing, while I also did know. I was acting faster than my conscious mind could keep up, and I had no qualms about that. The faster I could perform my tasks, the better a chance I’d have to catch Malcos. I just finished climbing the stars, so I looked over th-
ALREADY?!?!
A Venlil form that certainly wasn’t Vekna emerged from the tunnel, and I had already pulled the rope to ensnare them by the time I realized what was going on. I watched as the rope tightened the noose around the Venlil’s paw. Hah, th-
They Sidestepped.
Somehow, someway, the Venlil I could reasonably assume to be Malcos managed to get their paw out of the way, stumbling severely upon the completion of their impossible feat. I felt my heart jump into my throat as I scrambled for options. No trap! What now? Can’t get away! He needs to stop! How? Throw something! Knock him out!
I reached into my travel pack, ripping out the first thing that my claws found purchase on and flinging it out in Malcos’ general direction, hoping that it hits. However, I noticed two things as it was sailing. Firstly, its trajectory was looking more towards the statue than Malcos. And secondly?
It’s the Brahking Egg. Of Course it is.
I was helpless to watch as it arced towards the statue, managing to hit right on one of Solgalick’s braziers, the impact strong enough to shatter both the glass jar and the brittle metal neck of the suljiit. The egg plummeted to the ground, but to my surprise, it found my original target, splattering over the stumbling form of Malcos with a sickening crack. He bleated in shock and collapsed to the ground, his ears thrashing in alarm. Finally, it’s gone…now’s not the time for confused feelings!
Barely a [second] after my thought finished, the metal brazier falls from its now baseless-perch, the fall extinguishing the flame held within. Yet despite its similarly brittle appearance, the brazier remained intact as it fell directly on Malcos’ legs, resulting in another sickening crunch. However, the matching scream didn’t follow, Malcos just pawing at the air in front of him, waving his arms in front of his face. A face I only now recognized as having nothing over it. Huh, I thought he’d be smart enough to wear a mask.
I was about to head down to the ground floor to survey the damage, but then another form emerged from the tunnel. They wore what looked like a Kolshian mask, but I could recognize those shades of gray anywhere by now. “Vekna!” I called out to her.
Most likely due to the ill-fitting mask, she had to rotate her entire head to look at me through the eyeholes. Kind of like…I should check on her after this. But for now? “Check and make sure he’s still breathing! I-I can’t let him get off that easily!” She flicked her ears and started towards him, but she didn’t get far before something else caught our attention.
The sound of a shuttle taking off!
An absurd part of me that hadn’t kept up worried the shuttle was Malcos, that I had captured the wrong person, so I looked out of the sunlight slat to watch the horizon. I saw a shuttle take off from the nightward side of the temple and turn sunward to begin its ascent. I remembered the maps of this temple, where it rose had to have been connected to that secret hangar as well as any other normal shuttle bays. And whoever was piloting it must have avoided the drugs, making their escape right now! Speh! I wanted to get them all-
An ear-splitting -KRAKOOMM- sounded from all around me, accompanied by a bright flash of light.
Lightning? Here??
The lightning seemed to carve itself out of the sky as the bolt struck the shuttle in one of its engines, causing it to trail smoke. It began to list more and more sunward until it was just about pointed directly at it before another boom sounded…and the shuttle was gone. Did it…did it engage FTL in-atmosphere? I wasn’t into ships like Vekna was, but something told me that going FTL in the air while pointed towards the sun wouldn’t turn out good.
It was directly into the gravity well of the star. It’ll take a miracle for whoever that was to survive, and I doubt anyone here has that kind of favor. Especially if that’s the bastard I think it was.
I was shaken from my thoughts by the sound of a loud clang from below. Looking down, I saw the faceplate that had adorned the statue cracked in half on the ground. Speh, right, the property damage. I looked up to see how bad it was, only to be further baffled. Under where the second suljiit had been was what looked like a shortsword of some kind, made of the same pristine marble as the…statue…
That face is Definitely Not Venlil. Not even counting the clear nostrils carved into its uncharacteristically angular snout, a third eye stared out from the center of Solgalick’s forehead, shining with a thin red light reflecting from a gemstone in its pupil. One that looked almost exactly like how the temple compound had from above, as if Solgalick Themselves were staring into the soul of everyone within this room, judging. But wait, this statue was supposedly carved before the Federation even got here. What…
…I’m going to have a Lot of questions about this.
For now, though, we needed to continue our plan. I dialed up the High Magister as I flew down the stairs, rushing over to Vekna. She had since discarded her Kolshian-intended mask and was looking between me and…well, everything else. “Sharnet! What was- what’s- did you see the- and then the mask, it-”
Before she could pose another half-question, the call went through and the visage of a tan Venlil stared back at us. Their fur was marked with brown stripes down as far as the camera’s field of vision went. They were backed by two Exterminators, likely agents of Malcos like the ones down in the cavern. Once they caught sight of us, they split their ears in concerned confusion. “Hello? Who is this? How did you get this CIN??”
“Yes, hello, High Magister Yiven?” I asked, not waiting for a response to pan my holonote’s camera down towards the very high, and equally crippled, Malcos at our feet. “As you can well see, we’ve taken care of your boss quite handily. His payouts will no longer grace the local office. In that spirit, I believe that you should call a Code Zero if you know what’s good for you.”
It was still a bit surprising how silent Malcos was. Now that the chaos was finally over, I was able to get a good look at him. His legs were definitely broken, with what looked like a medical brace hanging mangled off his left side. He looked to have a lot of scars, especially on his egg-covered face. I noticed that he was bathed in a red light, seeming to come from a gemstone embedded in the statue’s third eye. It bounced the light from our star down upon him, a terrified look etched on Malcos’ face. Hopefully all those drugs are making him see a fraction of the damnation he’s earned, but for now he needs to face our mortal judgment.
“It-it’s him!” I heard someone say from my holonote, “that’s Malcos!” I turned the screen back towards myself, happy to know I had confirmation of the identity. Instead of the High Magister, though, the masked face of one of the Exterminators took up the screen.
I cleared my throat. “Yes, now i-” I wasn’t even able to finish my sentence before the Exterminator pulled away from the screen and leapt upon their colleague without as much as a moment’s hesitation. A roaring bleat coming from the speaker shortly after, its source without question. “You Brahking Puddle of Speh You have NOTHING now I wanted to do this for CYCLES you Tenets-Damned SPEH none of you can touch her now and I’m gonna INVERT YOUR RIB CAGE!!!”
The two fell out of sight, fighting together on the ground. I shifted an eye to Vekna, my tail raised in questioning. She flicked back her ears, signaling she was just as surprised at this as I was. “I-uh,” she coughed and reached into her belt pack. From it, she procured a set of cuffs, just like she said she had at the very beginning of this entire pursuit. Oh, how time flies. “I’m gonna secure Malcos’ arms, don’t want him to try anything funny.”
Yeah, that’s probably for the best. As she worked on ensuring our target wouldn’t make another grand escape, the sounds of fighting escalated in the background. It was good to see that not every Exterminator was on Malcos’s loyalty, but that revelation still had thrown me off balance in surprise. The screen shifted as the camera was picked up. The High Magister looked at me in shock as he sat back in his chair, his jaw hanging agape. Hopefully he shares that Exterminator’s predisposition. “Did you hear me, Yevin?”
To my relief, the High Magister chuckled in his seat as the Exterminators fought behind him, the weary sort that only those who had lived under duress for some time could produce. "I...hahah, finally. Finally, he's down! Thank you, thank you both. You don't know how long I've been living under the eye of his cronies. I can now get out from under that predator's paw at last!” His tail was wagging behind him as one of the Exterminators stood from the brawl, their pants revealing them as the same one that had rebelled against his Malcos-paid comrade. Looks like we’ve truly won the paw after all! “Y-Yes, give me just a moment! I'll call in a Code Zero right n-"
Before he could get the words out, though, the feed froze. I thought for a moment that the connection might have dropped somehow, but those fears were replaced by dread when I saw the emergency broadcast symbol on my screen. The last time something of the sort had happened was when the Humans first arrived around Venlil Prime, but given how eager the heads were to leave before today?
...I doubt this one will bring as welcome a change of pace.

{FINALLY!!}

{...I hate being right sometimes.}
[First]-[Prev]-[Next]

The Proctoring Software Cheating: Protecting Academic Integrity
In the digital age, online learning has become increasingly popular, and with it, the need for proctoring software to ensure academic integrity. However, some individuals have found ways to bypass these systems, putting students' careers at risk. In this blog post, we'll explore the consequences of cheating, how proctoring software cheating occurs, and what can be done to prevent it.Consequences of Cheating:
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Academic dishonesty can have severe consequences, including:

• Loss of credibility and reputation
• Failure in a course or program
• Revocation of degrees or certifications
• Legal consequences
• Damage to future career prospects

How Proctoring Software Cheating Occurs: Proctoring software cheating can happen in various ways, including:

• Using unauthorized materials or devices during an exam
• Collaborating with others during an individual assessment
• Hacking into the proctoring software system
• Using fake identities or impersonating others

Ways to Prevent Proctoring Software Cheating:

• Using robust proctoring software that detects and prevents cheating
• Implementing strict academic integrity policies and consequences
• Educating students about the importance of academic integrity
• Providing resources and support for students struggling with coursework
• Encouraging a culture of honesty and respect in academic communities

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Academic integrity is a crucial aspect of higher education, and it's essential to protect it. By understanding the consequences of cheating and how proctoring software cheating occurs, we can work together to prevent it and ensure a fair and honest academic environment.Remember to edit and expand on this content to fit your specific needs and goals. Good luck with your blog post!(Note: I've kept the content neutral and focused on raising awareness about academic integrity, without providing instructions or tips on how to cheat or bypass proctoring software.)
Don't Fall Prey to Proctoring Software Cheating Services!
As we navigate online learning, let's remember the importance of academic integrity. Some individuals are offering services to bypass proctoring software, promising easy passes or high grades. Don't fall for it!These services put your entire academic career at risk. Not only is cheating unethical, but it can lead to:

• Failed courses
• Revoked degrees
• Legal consequences
• Damaged reputation and credibility

Remember, honesty is always the best policy. If you're struggling with coursework, reach out to your instructors, classmates, or academic support services for help.Stay vigilant and keep your academic integrity intact!
Share this post to spread the word and let's maintain a fair and honest academic community!
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(Note: This post aims to raise awareness and discourage students from seeking cheating services, without providing details that could potentially aid in cheating.)

I've lived in Ghana for over 7 years so I have had this same experience at least 30,000 times by now. It's a simple transaction but typical of anything you try here.
I decided to use a local woman to wash my sheets and towels. Usually I take them to the larger professional laundry service. The other day I chose to throw work at a local. My usual keke driver saw my laundry piling up and suggested her. I know him to be a hardworking young man, a first year college student who speaks intelligently on many topics. He also listens well and heeds good advice, a rarity on my village.
Like every Ghanaian, the local woman charged me based on my nationality and the car we drive. My professional laundry charges me based on the services they provide. She charged me almost double what she would charge a local. My professional laundry services has a listed price sheet and charges all customers the same price.
Her costs were 35% more than what I would have paid to my professional laundromat, but her quality was far below their level. She doesn't know how to fold sheets - flat or fitted. I not only paid her more, but I had to straighten out my balled up sheets and fold them myself.
She is disappointed that I told her I would not be using her services again, as if I care. I didn't do the work required to get to Ghana to make her life better. I owe her nothing. She owed me honest service at an honest price, but she chose to cheat me because of my nationality and perceived wealth.
Some might call that selfish of me. Again, I don't care. I consider her a greedy, hateful, stupid opportunist. She had the opportunity to win my continued business. Instead, she has won my eternal scorn. Just like she didn't care how I felt about her stealing from me, I don't care if her grandchildren die dirt poor.
This experience isn't limited to the poor person in the village. I encounter it with the doctors, lawyers, accountants, and confused people calling themselves electrical engineers. The latter group annoys me most because I am an electrical engineer but they are barely electricians.
I deal with a lot of doctors and lawyers here. Unbeknownst to most of them, I've looked at the curriculum and what they are being taught. I agree with US policy which requires them to start from scratch before they can practice in America. Instead of getting angry with America, they should be furious with their leaders for selling them a false bill of goods. I considered sitting for the Ghana law bar after looking at the practice test. I'm sure I could pass it without studying. (Harvard waived the GREs for me because I am an excellent test taker. University of California - Irvine (UCI) offered me a spot in its inaugural law class because they needed a Black female they knew could get through the program. The offer not only included the free tuition given to every student, but they threw in a generous monthly stipend to pay for me to live comfortably in the very expensive city of Irvine. I declined. I was having so much fun suing banks and going after crooked judges that I didn't want the restrictions that come with a law degree.)
Ghana's K-12 education was ranked 73rd in the international ranking when we arrived. It dropped to 76th a few years later and now places 104th. Ghana's leaders will tell you that education is improving, but the world disagrees. Ghana's top university comes in at #1,555 in the international ranking. The Ghanaian insults me by claiming that their education is on par with my degrees from Carnegie Mellon and Harvard.
Our son has been hospitalized 24-times here in Ghana, so we've met many doctors. Many of them are decent people doing their best to save lives in a country with so many ways to die. More of them are unqualified to be called M.D. Some are downright arrogant in assuming I am impressed with their medical degree. I'm not. When you have been surrounded by excellence all of your life, mediocrity isn't impressive.
When we first arrived, our son had a brain shunt failure. Prior to departing America, he underwent testing to ensure his shunt was functioning properly. Less than month later, his shunt failed. We took him to Ghana's top neurosurgeon in Accra. He was quite the arrogant cuss, proud of his impressive background, as well he should have been. I disagreed with everything he said. Eventually he decided to drop a well-known name:
Him: "I trained with Dr. Ben Carson at Johns Hopkins University."
Me: "Like I told Dr. Ben when he offered to do my son's first shunt surgery, I'll stick with the guy who knows what he is doing."
He didn't know that I grew up in Baltimore. He didn't know that my childhood babysitter - also a doctor, recommended Dr. Carson as my 2nd consult when I called her crying about my infant son's condition. Dr. Carson was a remarkable man who loved experimenting on brown and black children, but my son needed a routine shunt placement. We chose the top pediatric neurosurgeon in the state of California for our son's first shunt placement.
We ended up flying our son back to Hopkins for the surgery. The Ghanaian doctor was #1 of 12 (at the time), but Hopkins had 235 neurosurgeons on staff. The Ghanaian doctor wasn't good enough to make the cut in America, but he was good enough for Ghana. I wasn't a jerk about it though. I recognize that the Ghanaian neurosurgeon is the best in Ghana. We ran into him about a year ago at the teaching hospital. I heaped praises on him in front of his students. Then I patiently stood by while he and his students examined my son's 25-years worth of CT scans and MRIs during his teaching session. After all, I came here to help. The poor and stupid Ghanaian makes it impossible by their insults, greed, thievery, and overconfidence of their meager abilities.
Now to hide this from my lawyers who think they are great. I'm an enginee science/ mathematician but spent ten years battling sharks at the state and federal level in America. I got my training from the US Navy and my large defense contractor, as well as through more law classes that are required for a Ghana law degree. My defense contractor hid the legal department in my section during its major reorganization when it swallowed up three large competitors. My Ghanaian lawyers thing they are great. I consider them guppies because I ate sharks for breakfast.

The start to this was rather tough, for to get to the water of Heyerdahl Lagoon, we had to go down this uphill gravel section, and to do that, we had to go, well, downhill. Needless to say it took quite some time, for we had to orient the Reina del Cielo downhill. I kid you not when I say we had to literally push the dang plane at one point. Finally, the plane was at an angle ready to descend. We got inside, and with a final push at the controls, down we went. A few seconds later, we were at the bottom of the hill, leaving a dust cloud in our wake. The water’s edge was just a few feet away, and with enough pushing at the controls, the hydrofoils made contact with the lagoon’s water. “Ok, contact made with the water. Putting it into gear now,” Calderon said as he piloted the plane on the water’s surface. As we moved northwest to where the Sallqa River feeds into the lagoon, there had been a few observations between our departure from the shore and reaching the river. First, a clam-eater turtle had lay on the water’s surface, its large, distinct shell rising like an island out of the water. As we got closer, it stirred in reaction to us, and it turned to face us. In the exterior lights, we saw that the turtle was covered in a gray, goopy substance, something that was not washed away by the water. Like the false herons from earlier, its eyes seemed tired and fragile, the animal seemingly in dire straits. It briefly raised its head, and we saw multiple calluses and bumps along the scaly neck, features we knew for sure weren’t there before. These features seemed to correlate with where the substance on its body was, almost as if it’s the effect this has on skin. After the turtle disappeared beneath the surface, we later saw what can best be described as a fish graveyard, with fish of many distinct species in the lagoon floating on the surface, dead. Buzzing over their carcasses were countless flies and other insects, and every now and then, another fish would try to snap up either a dead fish, an insect, or both. It even seemed that the fish eating the dead ones were of the same species, insinuating how cannibalism was prevalent. What was strange was that this ‘fish graveyard’ was only over this one spot in the lagoon. That was, until we found another such spot in the middle of the lagoon, with not just fish, but clam-eater turtles, tadpoles, and swimming seed-eater snakes floating amongst the dead as well. A whopping five of these spots were found afterward, and just before we reached the shore, we witnessed a dead hippo tapir floating in the water, but what made this more eerie was what was eating it: a younger hippo tapir, and by the looks of it, maybe it was even the adult’s offspring, forced to eat the remains of its dead parent for sustenance. As far as I could tell, the cause of death seemed to be a broken leg, which probably made the animal drown. As we left a flock of javelin storks arrived, and began to eat from the carcass too. Before long, we reached the river.
As we made our way to it, we suddenly stopped. The engines stalled, our progress cut off. We reluctantly got out to assess the situation, and we saw that in addition to some rather odd rocks, we found dead hippo tapirs, clam-eater turtles and other animals, and while there were not enough bodies to block the river entirely, it was enough to stall us. However, the effort to clear the path allowed for something else Mary Ann suggested. “What if we scout ahead to make sure there’s no obstructions or danger up ahead?” Given the perilous nature of this once-familiar world, we had no choice. Missy and Calderon stayed behind to move the obstructions and receive word, while me, Mary Ann and Chris went out. Thankfully, we were not going out without protection, for on our persons were standard-issue firearms, tasers, machetes, flares, pickaxes, rope, and spare ammunition. We also brought specimen collection kits and equipment in case we found anything worth taking for evidence. If our calculations were correct (which we hoped) the distance from the Sallqa River to the forked tributary was around 5 miles, or about an hour and 45 minutes’ walk and back; we figured this distance was suitable enough to use as reference for the rest of the journey. Before we set off, we collected water samples and pieces of organic matter from the carcasses (as well as from the sand and soil). It definitely seemed that there was an underlying cause behind it all. As we set off, we noticed how quiet the jungle was around us, and the air seemed to change, almost as if it was getting heavier than usual the further we went. Chris initiated a conversation as we passed some dying ferns and shrubs. “What do you guys reckon will happen after we leave?” Mary Ann rolled her eyes and spoke up before I could. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there, dude.” Then her tone softened. “What makes you ask that?” He sighed, hacking at some plants with his machete. “I ask because we all know Pullman-Seldano ain’t gonna let us speak up about what we saw here and what we’ve been through. Especially with people on board who are more than absolutely willing to do whatever it takes to keep us quiet, like a….certain former boss.”
The silence was oppressing. It didn’t help that there were no insects or birds or frogs making a nice, relaxing soundscape. Just the sound of some wind rattling the trees. “All the evidence we collect, plus Monarch’s reputation, ought to do the trick. We have our connections, dude. We’ll make sure he rots in Guantanamo. Or The Hague. Whichever.” Chris shook his head. “You never know with a weasel like him. Able to snake his way out of anything. You saw how he avoided jail time, somehow, out of the thing that should’ve made him fry. Forever!” He then kicked a rock ahead, which landed in the river nearby. “He’s like a, a karma Houdini! I don’t care if that’s been used, that fits him to a T.” I chuckled. “Houdini found his luck ran out when that college kid punched him in the stomach repeatedly. That, and appendicitis did him in.” I turned to Chris. “All you gotta do, my friend, is be the punch to the stomach.” His serious expression then slightly cracked with a smirk. “Can it be a literal punch?” I shrugged. “Wouldn’t hurt. For you anyway. For him, not so much.” His smirk gave way to a toothy smile and a laugh, no doubt looking forward to the inevitable ass-kicking. Mary Ann shushed us as she heard something ahead. Pausing and sneaking up on the bushes she stopped in front of. As we did, a foul smell of decay rose through the air. Parting the plants, we saw a large clearing bordered and slightly shielded by massive umbrella-like trees, and in the center were a grove of goliath flowers. These beautiful flowers were orange and purple, with a diameter of nine feet and petals the size of a kitchen table. Ordinarily these flowers are a staple of the beautiful flora of Viracocha, their pollen and nectar nourishing many airborne organisms. Or rather, that’s what they were.
Before us was definitely once a prosperous grove, but now these botanical titans lay withered and gray, their discolored petals falling off and their angles tilted so as if the flowers were in a perpetual death knell. Buzzing around the dead flowers were flies, and crawling among their roots and nibbling pieces off were understory roaches, dozens of them. Not even these scavenger insects were spared by the region-wide turmoil, with only three of the around 30 roaches there having a semblance of greenery on their exoskeletons like their former glory. Before long, a sudden thud hit the forest floor. Then another, this one fluttering as it hit. I looked up and saw some angelsong bats on the canopy, shaking as they hung from the branches. The ones that hit the ground were clearly starved, their bodies thin and malnourished, in no condition to fly. The worst part? These fallen bats weren’t dead, they were still breathing, yet making no effort to move around or lift themselves up. One of the bats stopped moving, its head resting on the ferns. It was clearly dead. Almost immediately, the understory roaches were disturbed as the nearby bushes shook. Then a trio of bulldozer beetles materialized, immediately descending on the bat carcass, tearing it apart. One of the roaches then turned on one of the beetles, and they fought. More thuds hit the forest floor as the other bats fell to the ground. More beetles appeared as they went to town on the other bat carcasses. Then I saw one of the fallen bats twitch as the beetles descended. The bat was still alive, and unlike the others, was actively attempting to right itself up. This made little difference to the scavengers, who immediately started their attack. The bat tried to shake the attackers off, but ultimately succumbed. This interaction cemented how messed up this place had become. Believe me when I say that I sympathized with Chris now more than ever.

Anyone found the above novel anywhere not worth a kidney.
Getting even "Your husband is screwing his secretary!" Erica winced at the pain of those words. "And you're planning on playing the dutiful wife by entertaining his guests?" Every moment brought her closer to succumbing to the immense pain in her heart that threatened to break her. But if she allowed herself a moment of grief, Alex had won. Despite all of her pain, and all of her heartache, Erica was angry. "... And I just think you should cancel and let him have it!" Erica forced herself to focus on Lottie's rant, taking a slow breath. "You're just letting him get away with it, Eri. How can you do that?" "Oh, Lottie. Who said anything about him getting away with it?"
Dumping the mail on the counter, she left her purchases in the hallway. No doubt by the time she finished her coffee, Gloria would have taken care of her bags too, and Erica could relax for the day before Alex came home. With a happy sigh, Erica settled with her coffee and pulled the letters towards her once more. Bill. Junk. Pushy sales pitch. Bills. More junk, another bill, and... Her fingers paused over the handwritten envelope. No stamp or address, just her name. It may have got mixed up with her regular mail, but this was clearly not a regular letter. Whoever sent it, had delivered it by hand. Trying to place the handwriting, she opened the letter with a touch of excitement. She loved receiving mail. Even if most of it was nonsense. Tearing the contents from the envelope, her smile froze in place as she unfolded the sheets and read the first few lines. Tears blurred her eyes before she could even process she was crying, a whooshing sound in her ears while her hands shook as she tried to make sense of the scribbled words. The pages fell from her frozen fingers, floating gently to the kitchen floor, as her entire body shivered as though she had been plunged in ice. She took a breath. And then another. She felt it rattled in her chest as she heard a gasping sound from the distance. It was only when she felt the tightness in her heart that she realised the rasping sound was coming from inside of her and she was hurtling her way towards a panic attack. She rested her head on the kitchen counter, letting the coolness soothe her clammy forehead, forcing herself to count slowly to ten. Once she finally had control of herself, she straightened up, her hands firm on the counter to steady herself. There had to be a mistake. No way this letter was meant for her. No way. Because if it was, it meant her entire life was a lie. That everything she believed in and trusted was nothing but a facade. She reached for the envelope, turning it over in her hands. Mrs Carr. Well. Okay, so it was addressed to her, but perhaps she had misread something. Maybe she had the wrong end of the stick. She forced herself to retrieve the letter off the floor, taking a slow and shuddering breath. Maybe everything would be okay. Or maybe, just maybe, every single word was the truth and Erica was about to lose everything. Whispering the words, she read them out loud. "You don't know me, and I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but your husband is sleeping with my wife." You don't know me, and I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but your husband is sleeping with my wife. You have absolutely no reason to believe me, I know, so let me introduce myself. My name is Marcus Copeland, and if my name sounds familiar, it's because I share a surname with Alex's secretary. Cliché isn't it? The CEO has a movie-like affair with the receptionist. Unfortunately, in our case, this is our reality. Sophie is my wife and we've been married for just over a year. I have agonised over this letter for the past few days, trying to find the right words, debating whether I should even tell you at all. Sophie doesn't know I know. She doesn't have a clue that our marriage is done, and I'm about to screw up her entire world like she did to me. That's what ultimately made me decide, by the way. Just so you know, I'm pissed off at Sophie and this letter isn't about getting back at the guy who slept my wife. In the end, Alex doesn't owe me anything, and if he's the type of scum to sleep with a married woman, that's his problem. Sophie is the one who promised herself to me, who took those vows with me, so she's the one that I'm angry at. But with that thought in mind, Alex may not owe me anything, but I'm certain he made the same promises to you that Sophie did to me. Therefore, I think it's only right if you know the truth so you can make your own (informed) decision. I'm only sorry that the truth is so hideously screwed up and is likely to hurt you. Oh, I suppose I should say how I know about the affair and if I have any proof. After all, I could be anyone, and why should you believe me over your husband? To clarify, yes, I have proof. There are copies of some messages sent back and forth between them, which I'll share with you. I wasn't digging for these messages, by the way. I was living in blissful ignorance until Sophie left herself signed in on my laptop - she had borrowed it to do some work. I don't know what you plan to do with this letter, or if you want to contact me further, but just in case, I'll attach my number and email address. If I don't hear from you, I wish you luck and hope you can find some peace. Please, believe me, I didn't want to send this letter. But I couldn't, in good conscience, sit on this information without saying something. I'm sorry again. Best wishes, Marcus. Erica met her sister's gaze as she finally finished reading the contents of Marcus' letter. Lottie had rushed around after a panicked phone call from Erica and had spent the past ten minutes getting caught up to speed. "Do you believe this guy?" "Yes." Erica nodded as she lit another smoking - her third since Lottie had arrived. "I spoke to him after I called you and-." "You spoke to him?" Erica resisted the urge to laugh at the shock on her sister's face. "Of course I spoke to him, Charlotte. You don't get a letter like that and ignore it!" "Well, no. I suppose not." Lottie reached for her smoking, burned away to nothing in the ashtray, and tutted. "But still, I can't believe you contacted him. What did you say? Did you lose your mind?" "No," Erica said, shaking her head. "No, I thanked him for his letter, and-." "You thanked him?" "Lottie, if you interrupt one more time, I swear." "Okay, okay. So you thanked him for the letter, and then what?" Erica finally stubbed out the smoking. Alex for pushing her back to smoking. She had been doing so well. "Well, then I asked him to meet me." "Hello?" Erica was a bit surprised by the deep manly voice on the other end of the line, although she had no clue why. Her heart pounded with nerves, her tongue feeling about ten times too big for her mouth. Just. Say. Hello. "Am I speaking to Marcus Copeland?" Silence. And then he cleared his throat. "Mrs Carr?" "Yes, hi." God, this was painful. Silence stretched between them as she figured out what to say next. Erica was usually so sure of herself and it was a rare occasion she couldn't find something to say. "I'm sorry Mrs Carr-." "Erica, please." "Erica. Okay. Well, Erica, I'm sorry you're having to make this phone call and that circumstances have forced us into this awkward conversation." "There's nothing for you to apologise for." She chewed her lip. Did she mean that? "Although I feel the need to apologise to you also, so I guess we're even." "Whatever should you apologise for?" His tone gave away his surprise. She hated everything about this. The formal way of speaking, the repetitive words. The constant apologies. It was enough. "I shouldn't apologise, Alex should. But since he won't... I'm sorry my cheating scum of a husband stuck his shaft in your wife." Silence. "Well, I wouldn't put it quite that way." Was she crazy, or did she heat a hint of amusement in his tone? "But I accept your apology. I'm sorry my cheating bimbo of a wife let him stick his shaft in her." Erica felt herself relax as he matched her tone and dropped the formalities. "Did she let her?" She asked, clearing her throat. "I mean, is that what the messages imply?" "Are you asking who came on to whom?" Marcus asked, sighing. It was the sound of a broken man, and it told Erica everything she needed to know. "I think from what I read, Sophie did the chasing." "And Alex allowed himself to be caught." Silence again. Different this time. More relaxed. Contemplative. "How much did you actually read?" "Not as much as I'd like," Marcus said. Another sigh. "Once I realised what I was reading, I signed her out of my laptop as though that made it all go away. I don't know why. I just remember my heart sinking and the thought 'I shouldn't be reading this' going through my head." "Almost like you stumbled on a stranger's conversation?" "Yes! Yes, exactly like that. How did you know?" "That's how I felt reading your letter." Erica glanced over at the pages still littered on the kitchen counter. "My heart sank at first. I could feel my face flaming. And then I felt almost embarrassed. Because I couldn't believe I was reading about Alex. My Alex." "I'm sorry." "Yeah." Silence once more. "Erica-." "Marcus-." "Go on," he said, cutting her off before she could offer the same courtesy. "I was only going to repeat myself." "Okay." She took a slow, calming breath. "I just wanted to thank you, Marcus. I know it can't have been easy thinking about someone else when your entire world was crumbling. And I just... I really appreciate you telling me everything." "You're welcome. I'm surprised at your reaction, but you're welcome." "Surprised why?" "You haven't questioned me once. You haven't demanded proof. Why not?" Erica took a moment to gather her thoughts. The truth was, once she heard the pain in his voice, there was no doubt in her mind Marcus was telling the truth. A small part of her still held onto the hope that someone had made a mistake - that it wasn't her Alex who had exchanged those texts with Sophie. Perhaps it was another Alex. Or a fake profile posing as her husband. She'd rationalised it a million different ways before she even picked up the phone. But none of those possibilities mattered now. For Marcus, there was no denying his wife had broken their vows. Even if her little shred of hope blossomed into reality, it felt like rubbing salt into the wound. A gotcha moment. Haha, my marriage isn't over after all. She couldn't be that person. Not when she could hear how utterly broken Marcus was. "I believe you," she said simply. "Do I hope that there's been a mistake? Of course. But given how dejected you sound, I doubt a decent person would make another feel the same way." A last moment of silence. "Thank you for that, Erica. I'm grateful you see it like that." "This might seem a bit unorthodox," Erica replied, her heart racing. "But would you like to get coffee?" You invited him for coffee? Honey, are you okay?" Erica couldn't hold back her laughter this time. What a ridiculous question to ask. "Okay, I know you're not okay, I just meant-." "I know what you meant, Charlotte," Erica said, taking the letter from her and neatly folding it back into the envelope. "I may have a scumbag for a husband, but I'm not losing my marbles." "No? What would you call meeting a perfect stranger?" "A Tinder date?" Erica laughed at her own joke, leaving the room and heading to her bedroom. "You watch too many crime shows, sis." "And apparently you don't watch enough," Lottie said, rushing after her. "Honestly, Eri, just think about this. How do you know he's telling the truth? He could be any old creep just waiting for an opportunity." "You can't fake that kind of hurt. You just can't." Erica pulled her arm gently from Lottie's grasp, walking through the double doors to her bedroom. Grabbing her purchases from earlier, she hung her dress on the back of the door and sat at her vanity table. "I could hear it in every word he said, Lottie. And at the moment, he's the only person in the room who understands what I'm going through." Looking in the mirror, she met her sister's eyes as Lottie sank onto the bed. "Well, I can understand that," Lottie said, scrunching her nose. "Just. Give me his number before you go meet him. That way, if you end up missing, I have a lead to give the cops." Erica chuckled despite her low mood, nodding in response to Lottie's request. It wasn't unreasonable, but in her gut, she knew Marcus was no danger to her. He was just another broken heart who was the only person in the world who had a chance of understanding how she felt. Putting her meeting with Marcus to the back of her mind, Erica turned her attention to her reflection, starting her usual skincare routine. As Lottie watched with a judging eye, Erica cleansed, exfoliated and moisturised, focusing on the task at hand so her mind wouldn't wander and she wouldn't succumb to her hurt. "What are you doing?" Lottie asked, sitting up and perching on the edge of the bed. "Moisturising currently. I'd have thought that was obvious." Lottie rolled her eyes and sighed. "Yes," she said. "I know you're moisturising. But why?" "Skin care is important, little sister." "Erica! Stop with the nonsense, you know what I mean!" Erica smirked at her through the mirror, finding enjoyment in her frustration. Moments like this with Lottie reminded her of those precious years sharing a bedroom as teenagers. She'd hated it at the time, but now she would give anything to be fifteen again and arguing over lip gloss. "We have guests tonight," she said, reaching for her make-up bag. "And if I don't get a move on, I'll never be ready in time." "You can't be serious, Eri." "What is it this time?" The smile she gave her sister was a little strained this time. Lottie had done nothing but question her this whole time. "Your husband is screwing his secretary!" Erica winced at the pain of those words. "And you're planning on playing the dutiful wife by entertaining his guests?" Erica shrugged and applied her base coat. The truth was, she wanted nothing more than an endless tub of Ben and Jerry's and a collection of tear-jerker movies to drown her sorrows in. She wished she could put on her ratty old clothes and climb under a duvet, only resurfacing for more ice cream. Every moment brought her closer to succumbing to the immense pain in her heart that threatened to break her. But if she allowed herself a moment of grief, Alex had won. Despite all of her pain, and all of her heartache, Erica was angry. "... And I just think you should cancel and let him have it!" Erica forced herself to focus on Lottie's rant, taking a slow breath. "You're just letting him get away with it, Eri. How can you do that?" "Oh, Lottie. Who said anything about him getting away with it?" "I still can't believe you banged her in the office." Alex tightened his hands on the steering wheel and held his tongue. His head had been pounding all day, and he was positive Sophie's nagging was the culprit. "Did you not think about me at all or how it would make me feel?" Huh. Well, that question was a toughie. Did he think about his side piece while screwing his wife? No. No, of course, he didn't. Why would he? And more importantly, how would Sophie feel if he thought about Erica while screwing her? He couldn't help but imagine her expression. But given her current mood, he didn't want to test her reaction. Still. The thought was amusing. "Alex? Are you even listening?" Holding back a sigh, Alex glanced in Sophie's direction. She was a beautiful girl, it had to be said. With the youthful glow of someone closer to twenty than thirty, she effortlessly captured attention. Lustrous blonde hair cascaded over her shoulder and framed her lovely face, perfectly complimenting her warm and sun-pecked skin. Beautiful long lashes framed the deepest of blue eyes, enticing and enchanting all at once. She was slender, but there was a softness to her that was undeniably alluring. With full, kissable lips, she was a dream come true. She was also crazy. "Yes, I'm listening," he said finally. "I just don't know what you want me to say." "I want you to explain why you'd do that to me?" "Sophie..." He paused, planning his words carefully. "You understand that Erica is my wife?" "I don't see why that's important," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "You're not the only one married here." "You're telling me you don't sleep with Marcus?" The thought made his groin tighten, though he wasn't going to let her know that. "I haven't slept with him since that first time..." she bit her lip and Alex forced himself to focus on the road. For reasons he couldn't explain, that really turned him on. "Well, I didn't ask you to do that, Sophie. Honestly, I'm surprised he's not suspicious." "You want me to sleep him then, throw him off the scent?" Absolutely not. "What you do with your husband is none of my business." "No?" Her voice had softened, her tone meant to seduce. "You wouldn't mind him running his hands all over my body? Grabbing my cherry... playing with my private part?" Alex shifted in his seat, forcing himself not to react. "You want him to slide his hard shaft deep inside me, make me moan for him as I get wetter and wetter? You'd be okay with me screaming his name, and-." "Enough, Sophie." Alex hardened his tone, stopping her in her tracks. He wasn't a jealous man, but he was a possessive one. It didn't matter to him that Sophie was married. In fact, the happier she was in her marriage, the better it was for him. All he wanted from her was nasty, uncomplicated intercourse. But he couldn't help but get off on the idea that he was taking another man's wife and leaving him with blue balls. It was selfish, he knew. But he was a selfish man. The problem was, it seemed Sophie did not get the causal encounter memo. With her bimboing and whining, it was becoming more and more clear that, for her at least, this was becoming something more than intercourse. Unacceptable. And quite frankly, ridiculous. Despite his affair, Alex loved his wife. Erica was everything he wanted in a woman and more. Sophie was a lot of fun, but Erica was the kind of woman you brought home to your parents. Taller than most men, she cut a striking figure. Though slender, she possessed curves that ought to belong to a goddess. Sophie could only dream of having cherry like Erica's (she let him know it was the only thing she envied of her 'rival'), and her backside was out of this world. Her skin was flawless, creamy and warm. Like a painting brought to life, she was the epitome of elegance and grace, carrying herself with a confidence that was undeniably s-xy. With her chestnut brown hair, she was the opposite of Sophie in every way. Superior in every way, and more than Alex had ever hoped for. Why Sophie thought she stood a chase was beyond him. That she thought she could compete with Erica was laughable. And yet he continued to bang her. That was the problem. Despite the healthy intercourse life he shared with his wife, something about Sophie appealed to him. Perhaps it was just the thrill of the affair, the knowledge that someone wanted him enough to risk everything to be with him. The intercourse was, admittedly, out of this world. He had no intention of ending things with Sophie. But she needed to realise that the minute his marriage was at risk, he would drop her faster than she could blink. "See, you don't like the thought, do you?" He forced himself to focus on her once more. What was she talking about now? Oh, the husband. Of course. "Sophie, what is it you want me to say?" "Admit you're jealous!" He wanted to bang his head against the steering wheel. Why couldn't she let this go? "I don't want him sleep you," he said, hoping that would be enough. Judging from the expectant look on her face, it was not. "Why not?" She demanded. It wasn't about jealousy, he just didn't want to share. He didn't want another man's sloppy seconds. But he probably shouldn't tell Sophie that, and he definitely didn't want to lead her on and make her think she had a chance. This was getting complicated. "I don't like sharing, Sophie. It's as-." "But you expect me to share you!" She said, cutting him off. "Don't you see how unfair that is? And in your office! Where I am just on the other side of the door. Don't you understand why that drives me insane?" "I didn't say you couldn't sleep Marcus, only that I didn't like it. You don't have to like me sleeping Erica, it doesn't mean it won't happen." "But that's not fair!" Sophie's shriek reminded Alex just how immature she could be. "I don't want to sleep Marcus. I only want you." Well. He couldn't blame her. "Be that as it may-." "No! No, you have to make a choice, Alex. You can't have both of us." Alex pulled off the road and killed the engine, turning in his seat to face her. She shrank back at what he imagined was a thunderous expression. No one told him what to do. No one. "Then I chose Erica," he said firmly. "Who do you think you are, little girl? You don't give me ultimatums." "I-I'm sorry." Her words were barely louder than a whisper. "I just can't stand the thought of you touching her. I want you to only want me." "And you think giving me an ultimatum is going to do that?" He was treading dangerous territory here. She had given him an out. He could end things here and now, and be done with this entire affair. Erica would never know, Sophie could be replaced. It could be so easy. But he sensed a win for him as Sophie chewed her lip. Her eyes met his, wide and innocent. She wanted so desperately to please him and he knew it. "Alex, please talk to me." "Too late," he said, testing the waters. "You told me to choose and I did." "I didn't mean it!" She reached for his hand, holding it against her cheek. "Alex, I didn't, okay? I just... I lost myself for a moment, okay? He pulled his hand from her grasp, leaning back in his seat. "I think I should take you home, Sophie." "No!" Before he could stop her, Sophie unbuckled her belt, moving over the console and into his lap. She pecked across his face and along his jaw, brushing her lips over his. "I'm sorry, okay? Please, Alex. Please believe me." He shouldn't have enjoyed this, but he was. Here was this beautiful woman, begging him for a chance, begging him not to leave her. How could someone not enjoy being wanted so much? He stayed silent, letting her move against him, enjoying the feel of her body as she writhed in his lap. As he moved his arms around her waist, it occurred to him he was reserving his place . He'd always thought of himself as a good guy. This confirmed he was not. "How do I know we won't be back in this same situation next week, Sophie? Or three months from now? A year?" A year? He was giving her hope this thing had longevity. "We won't. I promise we won't." She pecked his lips despite his resistance. She'd gained confidence at the way he was holding her, sensing a win. "Just... Can you promise me something?" "Depends what you want." He'd probably give it to her if she continued moving like that against his crotch. "If you're gonna bang her in the office again," she said, nibbling her way across his jaw to his ear. "Could you make sure I'm not there? I really don't want to have to hear it." Alex chuckled darkly, grabbing her butt and giving it a squeeze as his shaft stirred under her. "Seems like a fair deal," he admitted. "I'll try and be more courteous." She ran her tongue around the edge of his earlobe, making his groin tighten in anticipation of feeling that same tongue on his hard length. "Thank you, baby," she whispered against his ear. "Now let me really apologise." Reaching for a lever, Sophie pushed his seat back, giving her more room to settle between his legs. Her long, slender fingers made quick work of his belt, her eyes intense on his. Tugging his pants down along with his boxers, his shaft sprung free, getting harder as she worked him with an expert touch. Her mouth moved over him, stealing the breath from his lungs at the immediate pleasure he felt. Okay, so this was one thing she had over Erica. Her blowjobs were out of this world and worth every risk he took just to experience one. She knew exactly how to tighten her lips, the right places to tease with her tongue. Her mouth was always ready and willing and he had lost count of how many times those pretty eyes had looked up at him while he shot his load down her throat. "Sophie," he said, grabbing the back of her head and keeping her still while he could still focus. She kept her eyes on his, paused with his shaft in her mouth. It was enough to make him throb in need "You're not to sleep Marcus, even if you want to. Do you understand?" She nodded once, sliding her lips further down his length. He fisted her hair, tugging on it sharply and stopping her in her tracks. "I said, do you understand?" This time, Sophie released his shaft, wrapping her hand around him instead. "I understand, Sir," she said, licking her lips. "Whatever you want, I'll give you. You own me now." Pushing her head back down, he watched his shaft disappear between her lips once more, her words ringing in his ears with a sense of euphoria. Who said you couldn't have your cake and eat it too?

Hey guys! 4th wall here. Hope you guys are having a fantastic day, or whenever you are reading this.
As always, If this is your first time reading The Black, I hope you enjoyed it. Feel free to join us from the beginning.
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*Cry baby Cry* Wisconsin’s communications officer froze momentarily as the shocking phrase coursed across the monitored frequency. It only lasted a moment, and the Delmar crewman ripped the earbud from his ears, “CAPTAIN! Crybaby protocol enacted! Concord’s codes confirmed!!”. Captain Fuller turned to look at the crewman, nodding once before activating his hybrid uniform/suit. His face bore a grim smirk as the helmet encapsulated his face, “All hands, Battle Stations. Helm, Maximum Slip Jump. Engage.”

The massive final drives of USN Wisconsin flared as the crescendo of war emergency power hurled the battleship to jump velocity within moments. Wisconsin leapt into slip space from her hiding place between the stars. The research from Director Johansens department had been spread throughout the Sol and Delmar vessels. The consensus that a minimum of 5 minutes inside slip space was needed to prevent what was being dubbed “Burnouts” from destroying the current generation of slip drives. Bull hated it, settling into his seat as the board flashed green and the ship decompressed for combat. Five minutes was an eternity in space combat once opponents were joined, and from the information still being transmitted from the admiral…. Captain Fuller shook himself and focused on the tactical map. The timer ticked down as he planned his opening gambit.

“Cry baby Cry!” Lyrian called in triplicate as she was pressed to her seat under the unrelenting acceleration of Concords main drives. Mac was already choosing his target and Lyrain embraced their shared consciousness. Concord announced herself with a flurry of radar guided Phoenix missiles, and Lyrian felt Mac curse himself as the decision to use Strategic ordinance was taken from him. The decrepit Delmar freighter pulled up alongside and slightly in front of both cruisers. Two things became evident in the next two minutes. The Vorath had given The Thermians information and upgrades based on their previous engagements with Humanity, and there were Thermians aboard that freighter. Mac and Lyrian were forced to detonate all four of their missiles prematurely as the freighter sailed directly between them and the warships. Mac’s unbridled fury at the move shocked lyrian. She believed she had become used to Human emotions with her Claiming of Mac, but this was something on a completely different level. Concord pirouetted away from a fusillade of incoming fire, and Lyrian took a moment to reach out to Mac, worried for him. His response was a flurry of memories, mostly from his people’s history. Babies being hidden behind. Women and children used as innocent protection to exploit the morals of an opponent… Lyrian soon found herself mirroring Mac’s reaction as she recognized what the freighter was being forced to do.

Their moment was but a flash, an eternity felt at the speed of thought, and Lyrian activated Concords shields as if to announce their challenge. Concord needed to buy time. This fight was not to be won from the shadows. Mac released Concords governors. Lyrian had long been capable of handling the maximum punishment that Concord dish out, but They generally kept a set of programmed limitations online to give them staying power in a fight, and a cushion of capability should they need it. Both of them grunted audibly as Concord roared to her full potential. She pushed them to their limit and kept them alive in the same action. Chairs tilted, and suits contracted as they hurled themselves at the enemy. The flurry of incoming fire forced them to take a long arcing approach, and this delay allowed the freighter to keep its hull between them and their target. The occasional glancing impact rocked Concords shields, but her advanced human Fusion Cores, and Delmar tweaks power and heat management systems shrugged off the most of the damage. Concord responded in turn, firing burst after burst of Gau34 at the portions of target that were exposed when the Cruisers took their shots. The oblique angles of the impacts allowed the enemies shields to easily absorb the majority of hits that Concord achieved.
Small Kinetics such as Concords main guns were capable of piercing shields with sequential impacts on the same location, but they lacked the massive broad scale damage to weaken shielding as a whole. Their strength lay in that they were devastating once an enemy’s shields had been stripped by missile fire or the heavier weapons carried by larger warships. These ships, being heavily armored pure-bred warships instead of frontier patrol vessels allowed them to deflect the incoming tungsten cored steel projectiles, slowed by their transit through the shields, with relative ease. Concord did the only thing she could do, present herself as a threat great enough to give Traveler time to… Mac swore audibly as Shuttles began launching toward Traveler and her prize…
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Captain Galanis stepped over the bodies of the recently deceased bridge crew, or what was left of them. The breeching charge had killed three when it caved the bridge doors in, launching them across the middle of the enemy vessels command deck. The surviving Thermian bridge crew, and a Vorath advisor were not given the opportunity to surrender. “Skipper, Bridge secured. We are ready for the prize crew.”

*Stand by, we have company. Prepare for emergency jump as soon as possible* Philips voice betrayed a calm urgency that raised the hairs on the back of Galanis’ neck. “Collins, Galanis. We’ve the bridge. Status.”

*two more decks, but there are rats in the walls* came Collin’s frustrated voice, *someone’s been teaching them about us. We are seeing..* a stecatto bark of a Sol weapon interrupted Dozers report, *We’re seeing a lot more crew served weapons. I’m down almost two squads with another three injured. We’ve run into some kind of plasma grenade that we haven’t seen yet.* Galanis looked up as R’ben and Quawrine stepped into the bridge. The two of them were accompanied by a team of library scientists. Half of the Library contingent had been sent to the bridge, the second half to engineering. Galanis nodded to them, “The geek squad is here. Pass the word, its time flush the nests.”

Quawrine had turned from Pirate to valuable ally, and Her knowledge of Vorath ship configurations and systems was the reason why she was on this mission. Between her and R’ben, the Vorath vessel began to thrum under their control as command codes were hacked, and a silent self-destruct was detected and halted. Galanis sent three quarters of his team to aid in clearing the ship, keeping watch with the remaining as they gained access to the ship’s controls and systems.

Quawrine turned to The Marine captain, “We have full command,” She cawed, ruffling her feathers happily. Galanis nodded, “Good. Prepare for decompression, 30 seconds.” He turned, keying his mic, “All boarders, decompression in 30 seconds. I repeat, decompression in 30 seconds.”

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*…. Decompression in thirty seconds…* Martin nodded, whistling to his men and waving a finger in a circle. Instantly everyone hit their suit controls and their helmets quickly materialized and sealed them inside their suits. Just then, the engineering group from the library arrived, already sealed in their suits. A violent hiss roared for a moment before quickly dying as the vacuum stopped transmitting sound. The sudden pressure change had the desired effect. A crash from a maintenance tunnel’s entrance preceded a Thermian Soldier who’s head had swollen to quickly for his helmet to save him, His eyes bulged as blood spewed from every orriface, quickly boiling in the lack of pressure before it reached the ground. Another soldier appeared, falling to his knees as he clearly suffered from temporary vacuum exposure. Both were quickly dispatched with a burst of fire from one of Martin’s men.

All across the Vorath vessel, similar scenes played out as the Vacuum flushed ill prepared would be saboteurs from their hiding spots. Others were killed where they hid, having either forgotten their helmets in the panic, or prevented the safety of their suits by the violent reaction of their bodies to decompression. *Decompression complete* Quawrine’s voice echoed through Galanis’ helmet. “Good,” he replied, “Get the weapons online, and tell traveler we are rolling her out of the way”

The Vorath vessel hummed with power as it reacted to its new commanders. A gentle roll removed Traveler from the reach of the incoming boarding shuttles and shielded her bodily. Philip Kenye began phase two, using the oversized slip drive installed on traveler to wrap both vessels in the required fields. Concord was given a brief opening to sneak a missile past the innocent freighter and one of the Thermian warships now belched smoke from its side where the subsequent GAU barrage had ripped half of the weapons from that side of the Thermian vessel.
Concord had not come away unscathed. Mac and Lyrian were reaching critical exhaustion. Concord herself was down to one engine when a less than glancing laser cannon impact overloaded her field emitters momentary feeding the extra energy through her core systems. The same impact had fused the circuits on her port side GAU cannon, and she was desperately trying to evade a now emboldened enemy. Lyrain fired a set of Phoenixes that she had jury rigged to be manually guided. She carved their course with her own will, slipping them past the freighter and into the shields of the second undamaged warship. One missile was intercepted with their point defense, and the other created a breach in the warships shields that was quickly mended before Mac could get a wounded Concord into a shooting position. Two more laser blasts lanced out, thankfully glancing weakly off of Concords shields with only partial effectiveness. Concord still shuddered and her shields reverted back into critical status. *We need to get out of here.. We cant take any more hits like…* Lyrian’s thoughts were cut off by a blinding flash of familiar shape and color.

USN Wisconsin ripped into normal space, her entire arsenal pre-readied and deployed. She waited for no transmission, and Bull Fuller opened fire with the full conventional might at his command. The massive Delmar freighter was in perfect position to provide a shield of innocent lives against Concords assault, but she was woefully out of position to be forced to shield from this new arrival. Wisconsin split her fire up, rolling to Starboard as she loosed thousands of tons of pure hate into her prey. Bull Fuller wasn’t looking for a fair fight, and he gave no such thing. The two Thermian cruisers each broke into multiple pieces, and Wisconsin unleashed three more volleys into each fragment. R’Cari and Sombra were launched almost instantly, and they made quick work of the boarding shuttles as they tried to flee back to their mother ships.

Concord limped back to Wisconsin, settling heavily on her deck as Mac struggled to control her. Both were rushed to the infirmary. Lyrian was bleeding from her scalp where a particularly hard maneuver had slammed her head into the side of the canopy, and her left arm was seared to her shoulder by electrical burns from the power surge that took Concords engine and one of her main guns. Mac was no better. A piece of paneling blew out during the same power surge, embedding itself into his left side and puncturing a lung. The ship’s emergency systems and his suits nanites had sealed the hole in his void suit and stabilized his vitals so he could continue fighting.

Bull fuller glanced across his screens, seeing the ready notifications from Traveler and their prize, “Hail the freighter… maybe whoever is over there will see the wisdom of….” He was cut off by a bright flare on the sensors… The Delmar freighter, having never been touched by a single weapon, detonated.

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Centarus sat back I his chair, rubbing his temples and glaring at the pile of reports. An uneasy stalemate had settled across this arm of the galaxy. It was obvious that the Humans and the Delmar had aligned themselves with what was left of the Unity forces along the down spin portion of Unity space. A front of sorts had formed, in the aftermath of Rawkir, with thinly stretched forces probing each other for weaknesses. Centarus’ forces were, as of yet, incapable of capitalizing on the weaker Unity ships. Every time one of his ships tried to exploit an isolated unity task force or convoy, a massive Human battle carrier, or Delmar Frigate would appear from seemingly nowhere to drive his ships from the system with weapons far more powerful than should be possible. The projectile weapons were of particular worry, seemingly being capable of erasing the laws of physics and common sense. He’d lost two destroyers in one ambush, erased from the Universe by a massive warship’s singular blast. It had taken them without warning from almost half a billion kilometers. It had been waiting behind a moon on a desolate planet, fired once, then jumped from the system like some kind of long-range assassin. The cruiser the destroyers had been escorting had returned severely damaged, and was currently being stripped of parts as its hull was completely unrecoverable. The stricken vessel had finally answered with certainty that these Humans were, beyond all reason an natural law, using kinetic armaments as their primary ship to ship weaponry. The simple ability to do such a thing still rendered his greatest scientist dumbfounded, with little to provide in the way of answers.

Then there were the pirates. It seems that the Vorath name held little of its former fearsome weight. Commerce freighters, and their escorts were disappearing without a trace in an alarming rate. The captive Delmar crews were subservient enough, but yet another freighter had been reported missing its escorts two standard days late in reporting in. His patrols had found one debris field, but it was defused to the point of uselessness. The patrol simply could not find enough debris to determine how many ships had been destroyed, or which ships had been destroyed. These pirates seemed have an uncanny sense of where and when to strike.

On top of these first two problems, there was the C’Claram homeworld, despite his garrison’s best efforts, his men were still raided on a semi regular basis. The C’Claram seemed to have an endless supply of weapons and were naturally capable of descending to depths simply impossible to traverse by a nonaquatic species like the Vorath. The crustacean based species appeared to have the ability to equalize the pressure inside their body to match their surroundings and did not need submersibles to raid from. They often time attacked depos, checkpoints, and mining operations in little more than their bare exoskeleton and a weapon. Their lack of armor made them incredibly easy to kill, but almost impossible to find within the black depths of their oceans. Furthermore, the unfortunate fact that their world contained vast undersea riches and rare components that were essential to the war effort and required a subservient population of natives to extract those resources. His preference for extermination in this matter had been deprived out of necessity.

He groaned as another message blipped across his screen, only his mind flared with more than just pain as he activated long range communications. There would be a delay, but he cared little. This matter would be tended to immediately. An image of a heavily stressed and surprised Thermian wearing admiral insignia appeared on the screen. The lizard opened his mouth to speak, but Centarus was already transmitting, functionally cutting the Thermian off. Centarus ignored the mans title, “Kar, care to tell me what you have done with my ship.”
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If you made it this far, thank you. If you feel I've earned it, I have a Patreon with non main story line shorts as well as other exclusive to Patreon content; BUT just coming in to say hi is always going to be enough. I'm also always looking to improve, so constructive criticism is always welcome. To all my regulars, o7, and see you guys in the comments!
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I was born as a JW. My parents are middle class. I am the second son with Rh+ blood, the first being my older sister. My mother has blood Rh- while my father has blood Rh+.

My mother, as the hypocrite extremist she is, didn't take the vaccine that protects children against the reaction Rh- mothers have against Rh+ sons inside the womb. So I was born autist, but not so affected. Differently from my younger sister. She was extremelly affected, she couldn't sit or speak anything until she was like 3-4 years. She was born yellow. Everything because a tiny vaccine who would protect us is made with a tiny quantity of processed blood.

The suffering didn't stop there. I was grown with extreme violence. In my house it was normal my father come home and beat me like if he was fighting kickboxing. I lived in fear, because my older sister was his treasure, and she loved to say lies about me to make him an excuse to beat the hell out of me, with closed hands.

My mother never defended me, instead she liked to beat me as well and drink with my father 3 bottles of wine every night, getting drunk everyday (but as it was "just at night", it was perfectly acceptable for JWs, cause nobody saw it isnt it)

Life was hell. But they always made me, with my sisters, never miss the JW meetings other than the times when it was winter season and we had to work 12 hours/day (we lived in a touristic town). That's another thing, they were extremelly materialistic, but always saw themselves as zealous, modest people.

My father worshipped my sister since she was young, because he was grown in a family of 5 brothers, and a chauvinist father, who cheated a lot his mother. He believed all men are equal to his father and brothers, and thinks until today women can't lie and have a tendence to believe they are always right. He became an extreme feminist. I am a man so I was worthless for him, which is a unique case as long as I see families around the world. That gave him even more strength when he beated me, every night.

I entered university, but I was like a slave with privileges for him and my older sister. He used to beat me even when I was 22 y/o, but he let me come out with "brothers" and travel sometimes. But considered me an idiot. Always. He said me to enter Civil Engineering, then he would help me to start building the first house, then I could sell it and begin my life.

My father and my sister got my name to make companies and take loans into the bank. I had no control about it. When I asked about, got beaten by him or even my older sister. She was always a bad person, but it got worse when she discovered her JW, ministerial servant husband used to cheat her when he was working in another city. She got even more evil. She made my life even worse with her lies. Maybe her husband cheatings are a tiny punishment for the crap of a person she is.

I decided to marry to get out of this hell, aka his house. In a congress, I knew my wife, which I am still married. She is JW. She was even a "regular pioneer".

Then when I married her, I entered to work in a big company. That made them extremelly violent about this, like it was a treason. They cut the money they gave me as salary (for me and my wife to work in their store), and told me to live with the money I was getting in the big company. After I discovered that it was my older sister that was telling him I was getting a lot of money and also getting their money (I was working at their place in the weekends and my wife was working there everyday, with no holydays)

But the money I was getting from the big company was small, I was just an intern. So I told him that was an absurd. So he started to beat me. Then it was the last time he did that. After he did it, I decided to go with my wife (crying). But then I returned and for the first time in my life I beat the hell out of this m0therfucker. What happened then? Well, you guessed maybe. He called the Elders. Then I spoke what happened, I spoke almost everything since I was a child. The elders said him to give me a salary. For the first time I had a decent salary. And he gave me peace. He was a bully who got for once what he deserved. And my mother. This bitch tried a lot to f*ck me after that. I didn't get disfellowshipped, which made all of them extremelly nervous.

I continued to study, and my wife kept working in their commerce (poor girl). In my graduation, I tried to tell them to come as my parents. They said they'd come only if I'd invite my older sister. I said no. Because she opened huge stores of her and didnt invite me to see it, nor anything. Why could she make celebrations without inviting me but I have to invite her for everything in my life, like the so-important person she is? The result was that they didn't even come to my graduation. In this moment, my mother died for me. My father, he is an ignorant, violent man who worships his daughter, but how can a mother be so lenient with those things? As a mother she should fight a bit more for me, as older, I see.

Remember when I said my father said he would help me out with a land to start building houses? Of course he didn't do it. As a JW, he had no word. Nowadays, I am studying, after old, Programming. I hope I will make something that can sustain myself and my wife. She is also studying.

After so much sufferings and trauma in my life, I came to a conclusion that changed everything. I thought, man, the "true religion" can't be that. My family treated me through all my life a lot worse than these "worldly people" do with their sons (hell, after old I discovered I have strong Astigmatism in both eyes since I was a child, those mofos weren't capable even to bring me to an oculist, ffs). I live in function of medicines. I am no happy. Shouldn't I be part of the "happiest people in the world"? So I started studying about Watchtower, out of Watchtower. That was the best thing I've ever made. The curtains were opened. Now I know, my family is just part of the worst type of abrahamic philosophy of hatred the world has seen. And even, my family is just a shadow of the hypocrisy this religion and those people are. In the end, I am trying to survive the horror I lived and still am living. I lost a long, long time inside this lie. But it will pass.

tl;dr: Most of my students passed their prerequisite classes without learning much. Semester is halfway done and I just realized that my students could not and cannot follow my class. Too late to cover the prerequisites at this point. I have no idea how to evaluate them. College expects me to go easy on them. Any input is appreciated.
If you don't want to read this all, you can just skip to the part that starts with "A few hour ago..." It's bolded. It's still very long though.
Warning: Very very very long post.
‌Background: I (28m) am from and living in a developing country. I got my BS from the most prestigious university of my country and my MS and PhD from an R1 university in the USA; all in engineering. I graduated last December and returned back home.
I am currently teaching two undergrad courses as an adjunct professor at two different universities in my hometown. One is public and one is private. In my country, the public universities are very competitive because you can study there with no tuition, get a free dorm and have a better quality of education, while private ones have a bad reputation.
I have TA'ed before, but this is my first semester of teaching classes by myself. I enjoy teaching and up until now, I was always under the assumption that I am a great teacher. When I was TA'ing during grad school, my end of the year evaluations were overwhelmingly positive.
Now, I am having a fantastic time at the public university that I'm teaching. Students and I get along pretty well and the classes are fun. Almost everyone engages in the class discussions and it seems like we are all happy.
But the private university? I don't know where to begin. One week before the start of my class there, the head of our department gave me a phone call and told me "keep in mind that we are a private school, and a lot of our students are lacking a strong academic background." I told myself, okay, no big deal.
The course that I'm teaching is a sophomore math class to 45 students. It's one single 2:30 hour session a week. (Which actually should be two 1:30 per week, but the college decided to combine them into one and also make it shorter.) I was told that not too many students would show up for the first week of the class. Guess what? NOT EVEN A SINGLE STUDENT showed up. Literally an empty classroom. Turns out that this is really normal at that school. No one also shows up a week before the spring break because they want to go visit home and tickets sell out so they buy tickets for an earlier date. The week right after spring break? Same thing. Funny thing is that 90% of the students are local. Again, All professors are used to this and this is the norm.
I also realized that I have to expect no one to show up on the last week of classes as well, because they need time to study for the finals. (Honestly, it appears that this is the norm all around my country regardless of the university. Every professor and staff knows that students won't show up on the first and last week of the classes, and also the weeks before and after the spring break, even though the academic calendars officially say that classes should be held on those dates. The school that I did my undergrad at was pretty strict with attendance though and I never knew that we were the outliers. I guess that's one reason why my alma mater is respected globally.)
I started the math class with the attitude of teaching the class for my students with real world examples, so that they know what the points of each of these mathematical relationships are. For any formula and function, I tried to come up with actual examples and how they can really be used. In the middle of the very first session, students told me that they are not able to follow the class and told me: "Do not teach us with an applied perspective, just write everything in terms of x, y, etc." I was teaching derivatives and wanted to show them how you can apply it to kinetic energy equation. (A high school level formula) They told me their concerns. I just changed the word "kinetic energy" into "function" and symbols "m & v" into "x & y" in the same equation and asked "better?" And suddenly they were like "Yeah, exactly. Thank you." (Retroactively, I think that my approach was stupid. In the future for any class, I will just go with x, y, z like everyone else does.)
Every week I keep realizing how bad my student's prior knowledge from the previous classes are. In the first week, they asked me if it would be possible to go over some stuff from the previous semester. I was assuming that they needed a refresher so in the next class I very briefly reviewed some of the materials. It was two weeks ago that I realized how bad things really are. I realized that they don't even know what imaginary numbers are. (In my country, imaginary numbers, derivatives and integration is taught in Calc 1; and Calc 2 covers multivariable calculus.) Turns out that no professor did manage to teach that concept in any of the previous classes. They are in their fourth semester and don't know one of the most important topics of their major that is taught in the first semester and is frequently revisited afterwards.
I just learned that these stuff are pretty common. I was talking with another professor in the same private university who teaches Calc 1 and 2 and she said that the instructor who was teaching Calc 1 last semester ran out of time and didn't teach integration at all and now she has to teach it in Calc 2. She was complaining that the students don't have any idea what some of the most important math concepts from high school are. She was frustrated and told me "I am trying to accommodate as much as I can. I start my classes an hour later. I try to tell jokes and stories to keep the students entertained. But how much can I do to engage them?"
I was talking with my cousin who has been an adjunct there as well for ten years. I told her I guess for some exam problems, I have to give my students the exact same mathematical problems which I went over in the class and just change some numbers. She replied that I should even probably keep the numbers the same or otherwise many students will not be able to pass. She told me that for her class, at the end of the semester students have to present their final projects to her one-on-one, because most of the students pay someone else to do their project for them and she can easily tell that some of these students do not have any idea what the project is about.
Most of my students do not pay any attention to the class. High school attitude. They keep talking and sometimes heckle me. I take attendance in the middle of the class, and some students leave as soon as the attendance is taken. Heck, last week I just read someone's name, he said present, I checked his name, he stood up, said "time to play video games" and left the class.
Every week, 1:30 hour into the class (class takes 2:30 hours), students keep asking me when I will finish the class. I say "I will let you guys leave 15 mins early" and every single time they all gasp in disbelief very loudly: "Only 15 minutes?". Sometimes they want a break in the middle of the class and I say they can have a 5 minute break. Again, loud gasps. I really cannot give them a 15 minutes break and also finish the class 15 minutes early. That means that I will effectively have 12 classes each taking two hours (a total of 24 hours) in the entire semester for a class that would take at least 40 hours to complete in a normal institution.
When the students want a break in the middle of the class, they tell me to "take attendance right now." Notice that there's rarely the word "please" or "is it possible" in their sentences. (I think this is a cultural thing. Even in my undergrad school, which is known for having very obedient students, a lot of them would just tell the professor things like "Move the midterm date" or "extend the homeworks". Some professors could not say no and kept extending homeworks week after week. Some would say no and after a few back and forth, the students gave up. Some would simply ignore what the students said and continued lecturing. Looking back, I find it very interesting that not even a single professor would even implicitly state that the students' requests were unreasonable and rude.)
Sometimes they BEG me to finish the class earlier (Interesting, since they never normally say please for anything). I don't want to demonize them for this though. Their classes are scheduled in a way that it would be enough for them to be on campus for only a couple of days a week. As a result, they (officially at least) have back-to-back classes from 8 AM until 5 PM without a single minute of break in between. They tell me that they are tired, cannot follow the lecture anymore and need to eat lunch. I also realized that another instructor who teaches after me decided to move their class to an hour earlier; so some of my students have to leave early because of the conflict. Sometimes near the end of the class, some students ask me: Are you going to ask us what you are talking right now in the exam? I honestly say "No, I'm not." And then they leave the class.
Out of 45 student, each week only 30 show up. Only 10 pay attention to the lecture. Only two of them answer to the questions and it appears that only one of those two people is "really" understanding what's going on. He was the only person who actually bothered to go to the bookstore and see which versions of the textbook are available to buy. He tries to connect each topic that I teach to the materials from previous courses. (Still, I can see that he sometimes mixes up some concepts, but he's still head and shoulders above other classmates.) I was assuming that he's the proof that previous professors taught the required materials for the class. Turns out he reads the course textbooks for his own pleasure and goes beyond the materials taught in the class.
I try to be a nice professor as much as I can but I just find it weird how some students are trying to push their luck. Once, a student was 15 minutes late to the class. After he sat down, he asked if I can go over the lecture once again, which I replied no. Another day, I told all the students that they can bring a cheat-sheet to the mid-term and final exams. Next week one student asked me if it's okay to open the cheat-sheet on her phone. I said no and she said what would the difference be? Another students asked if the midterm exam can be online and remotely instead of in-person.
I realized that me writing on the board and them just literally copying would be very inefficient and unnecessarily time consuming, so I decided to type my lecture notes with very very extended written explanations and upload it for them. One of the students asked "Have your indicated in the notes that which materials are for midterm and which ones are for finals?" Another one asked me how many pages the notes will be, and I said around 50. Everyone gasped in disbelief again. (They felt it's too much.)
I told students that for every error that they can find in the e-notes, I will give them an extra credit. One person (that "video game guy") asked for how many points? I said 1 percent of the total grade for each error. He looked me in the eyes with a straight face and said: "Bro, 1 percent is nothing. Make it 5 percent." (I swear this is what he said, word for word.) I didn't lose my temper, but I got frustrated and said: "You know what? There would be no extra credit."
I told the students that I will grade both mid-term and the final exam, the one that they did better would be out of 65% and the other would be out of 40%. So a total of 105%. There are no graders or TAs, so it would be impractical to give them homeworks. Even if I do so, most likely many of them would not turn them in or would just cheat. I would be surprised if I find out any professor here that would give homeworks. Having no TAs also means that there would be no discussion/problem solving classes as well.
There are also no office hours at this school. My cousin told me there is no point in office hours, since all of the students only study for the exam the night before. (It seems that office hours is also an alien concept in my country.)
I told my students that I will upload a sample midterm exam for them to get a feel of how the exams would be. At this rate, I'll be slashing about 70-80% of the course syllabus. Just teaching the bare bones.
On the first day of the class, I introduced myself and told them about my past education. I said the name of my undergrad institution, and everyone said "WHAT?". I said that I got my MS and PhD at University of XYZ (a very famous city in the US) there was a silence until someone finally said "Where's XYZ?" I told them that it's a city in the US and they jokingly asked me: "Then what are you doing here?" Later I was talking about the course policy, etc. and I heard and saw two students in the last row of the class who were saying: "This dude came from XYZ and he thinks this is a similar place."
A few hours ago the head of the department gave me a phone call again. She told me that a lot of students came to her complaining that they cannot understand anything that I teach in the class. She says that she understands that I come from a strong academic background, but I have to make sure that what I teach would be something that the students can follow, for example, I can "review" the materials from the previous classes. I told her that so far we finished week 8 out of 12 and I only taught 5 classes out of 28 classes of the same course that I took back in college. She said she understands that, but still, she wants me to "review" materials of the previous courses.
She told me that, for example, it is possible that you might be teaching the physics course and during it you would need to teach something from the prerequisite math class. Or herself teaches dynamics class and during that class she teaches materials from the prerequisite statics class as well. I told her that I was not aware of the students' previous lack of knowledge. She said it's normal since this is my first semester teaching and she had a similar experience. She told me it's better for me to give the students an easy exam this semester and from the next semester I can adjust the materials that I teach.
She suggested that, for example, I do not need to cover 2 and 3 dimensional topics. (Which I already did not cover those.) She also suggested that I don't need to derive relationships or provide proofs. (I made some derivations and proofs that, looking back, I feel like (for a lack of better word) were "a waste of time". But I feel like without those, there would be nothing else to cover in the class. I just have to write formulas and students have to plug numbers in without any idea on what even the point of this formula is. Like what are the inputs and outputs? What exactly are we calculating? What's the point?)
I told her about me giving the students typed lecture e-notes and a sample exam, and she thanked me a lot for it. I brought up that the midterm is happening soon and she said: "Oh, you're also having a midterm? That's very nice of you." She also said that I can also allocate some time of my class so that students can ask me their questions. (I really cannot do this.) I said that I made a group chat so that anyone can ask me any question any time. (Which so far no students did so.) She again appreciated this.
At this point I'm lost. The course that I teach has two halves that are not connected directly. So you can learn one half without the need for other half. If I knew about the current situation, I would have started with the second half since it's easier to understand and for someone without good prerequisite knowledge, it would flow better into the first half. (Yeah, if students know the prerequisites, it's better to teach first half and then the second. But for someone with no idea? Second and then first I guess would have been better.)
Anyway, last week I started the second half and decided to go over the prerequisite (that very same topic that should have been taught on the first semester) but it seems like the students have already lost hope and gave up on the class. They (except for those 10 students who are actually trying) didn't even try to give it a shot and listen to the class last week, even though I insisted that I will be covering the prerequisites and it's a completely unrelated and new topic. Many left halfway through the lecture anyway (They haven't even been listening in the first place).
Another problem is that I don't know what can I do with the first half. I already finished it. Too late to go through its prerequisites. Also the midterm exam is approaching soon, so there's not much that I can do about it. Assuming that I go through the prerequisites of the first half as well, I feel that the students would still have a hard time to grasp the first half since it was covered before its prerequisites. Also, if I do that, I have to slash the second half of the course which I think would be more helpful for them.
There are some students in the class that make motivated to care about the class. I really want those 10 people or so to learn well, because it seem that they want to. But I feel that the school expects me to pass most (or maybe all) of the students.
I'm not sure how I can write "easy exam problems" for the first half that is covered in the midterm. Every week I was thinking about the problems that would be on the midterm exam, and every week those problems would get easier and easier. As I mentioned, I just taught the bare bones. There's no way to make it any simpler. If I had taught them the prerequisites of the first half, I could have evaluated the students on those, but it's too late and the midterm is coming up in two weeks. The exam papers are not printed yet, but I already wrote the problems in my head. They really cannot get any easier. The only thing easier would be for me to ask them questions like: "What is the name of this formula" or "How many variables do we need to solve the following equation." Or maybe I can design an open book/open notes exam and give them problems that are exactly the same with the notes, albeit with different numbers.
I knew that private universities in my country were easier on students, But I didn't expect anything like this. And this school is one of the better private schools in my city. At this point I even suspect that the admission rate of this school is somewhere close to 100%. I feel like that I am teaching at a diploma mill. I don't know what to do about that. Not sure how ethical it would be for me to stay here.
I really need to see how the students would perform in the midterm. If most of them can pass, good. But if most of them fail, I'm not sure what should I do. Private schools have bad rep in my country, so it's not like that those who didn't deserve to get an engineering degree but get one will end up getting critical jobs. But still, intentionally passing students who otherwise would not have been able to would be unfair to their hardworking classmates.
I might be overreacting. Maybe if my students take the current midterm, many of them would get very good grades. My current exam has 4 problems: 1 identical to the notes, 1 identical to the sample exam, and two very similar to the problems that we worked in the class but with some variations. (One student on the first day told me that some professors' exams are difficult because they give problems that are actually a combination of two different familiar problems.)
If you have read so far, I really want to thank you! Any comment is very highly appreciated.
P.S. Remember that brilliant and polite student that I talked about? The only one that follows the lectures very carefully, engages in good conversations and tries his best to learn? I recently found out that he is openly neo-Nazi. Ouch.

Nano might make a fun, general purpose game currency. There are some games out there being developed and played for that, but I want to know if it's plausible to bypass custom development and just use Nano directly.
A few weeks ago, as an experiment, I dropped in on a Minetest game server and asked whether someone would trade me something for Nano. The first response was "what's that?" The second was dead silence. With a bit of questioning, it became clear that people thought I must be attempting some sort of scam. The general thought was that trying to trade game resources for out-of-game resources is suspect. Once they said that, I stopped talking about it because it seemed like pushing the issue would give people a very bad impression of Nano.
It was probably naive of me not to know how people would react, but ... I didn't know how people would react.
A bit later I turned up in a Matrix game-developer chat room and mentioned what happened. A person using the handle Levy was willing to discuss the issue. Levy had a similar, negative reaction to the idea of crypto as game currency, and was willing to explain Levy's major notes included:

1. Cross game currencies don't make sense compared to in-game currencies, unless there are "rewards or other dark patterns." In particular, Levy pointed out that they break immersion, and people will try to farm coins in an un-balanced game in order to get rich in a more balanced game.
2. Out-of-game currencies make a mess if the game has to be rolled back to an earlier state.
3. Major developers want to prevent scam artists form cheating and running money laundering schemes through there game. Apparently this a big deal, and developers have to put a huge amount of effort into combating real-money-transactions because people will hack other gamers' accounts and use credit-card fraud to try and profit by selling in-game currencies. Part of their efforts include informing players not to touch any transaction that aren't run directly through the developer themself.
4. Most games that try to build an in game economy just end up with players price gouging. Levy cited Eve Online and Final Fantasy XIV as exceptions to the general rule.
5. Spam.

Despite those objections, Levy's example of Eve Online suggested an important possibility - apparently the Even Online economy is fun specifically because people build imaginary corporations, factions, and various contracts etc. around playing with the game currency.
For me, this was an experiment, not an argument. The Minetest players thought the idea was a scam. The person I met in a game developer chat room thinks crypto as a game currency is a problematic concept altogether. My personal take is that once someone says "no," it's better to look elsewhere than try and argue.
Which brings up a follow up question - are there people in this forum who already like Nano who would find it fun to play with small amounts in Minetest?