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In the 19, nearly 20, years I have lived my life, I was raised a Christian by American conservatives in a middle class environment and am fortunate to experience countless memories of joy, laughter, and growth with (mostly) everybody I have met. Each memory with the people in my life holds a special place in my heart, and I will forever cherish the bond we built.
The thing is that until the end of eighth grade, I had a strange obsession with East Asia. Looking back, it was very embarrassing and I condemn my parents for enabling me to become a weeaboo (by “weeaboo”, I mean “a person who is overly obsessed with East Asian culture, especially Japanese culture, to the point that they fetishize the culture in an unhealthy way”). I was the textbook example of a weeaboo who had a terrible case of “yellow fever” (sexual preference towards East Asians). Loving the image of East Asian culture without having any real idea what it stood for and seeing the East as a utopia, my fetishization of East Asia, especially Japan, was born out of the shame I have with the Western culture I was raised in. I never felt like I could fit in with my Western peers who I often looked down upon and did not want to be associated with. It got to the point that I became unsatisfied with my home town, my physical appearance, and even my closest friends. This combined with the surge in anime, K-pop, and other media on the internet really got me hooked and believing really fetish-y things about the Sinosphere. I hate being reminded of it and have tried to move on.
However, I am thankful for my exposure to Eastern culture, though it was through a very bastardized, Westernized lens. I am grateful for my exposure, even though it started out with something as intellectually undemanding as Vocaloid music (songs sung by a Japanese voice synthesizer). The best part about the exposure was that it helped me leave Christianity and join Buddhism at age 11, which greatly helped with my mental health considering I was experiencing suicidal thoughts since the age of 8. Though I had awful misunderstandings of Buddhism in the beginning and still do not really have a Buddhist teacher, I am glad that I have the resources to connect myself with other Buddhists and take refuge in the Triple Gem.
As I left my gross misconceptions of the Sinosphere behind back when I was 14 while still having a healthy interest in it, my eyes were eventually opened to perils which threaten not only the homelands of Buddhism (East, South, and Southeast Asia), but also the sustainability of modern humans. These two perils are Western culture and capitalist fascism.
The West exoticizes and misrepresents Buddhism and the culture of its home, the East, as a whole. I am ashamed to be born in a culture where this was encouraged, which I am worried could lead me to fetishizing Eastern culture again.
But what I know for sure is that the West’s hyperindividualism is harming people, both those whose lands are invaded and its own people. This combined with the West’s growing rejection of education, including that of the knowledge the West itself has given to the world for humanity’s benefit, makes it clear that it is lacking some of the Sinosphere’s cultural strengths. Everybody should hold collectivism and education to the same degree that the Sinosphere does, otherwise we would be left with an unsustainable society that would destroy itself.
There is nothing wrong with speaking Western languages, eating Western foods, watching (most types of) Western media, wearing Western clothes, and especially nothing wrong with using Western inventions, but we are now seeing that the West’s hyperindividualism and rejection of education is destructive and spreading like a cancer.
It is only Buddhists who make an effort to assimilate to the East (had they not been born into it) who can see the West with its hyperindividualism and uneducatedness, promoted by its creation of its spreading ideologies such as capitalist fascism and social Darwinism, for what it really is: a cancer. I can now see the direction the United States, the most populated and powerful country in the West, is going due to the rise of ultra-capitalism and/or fascism supporters.
Rarely the phrase “Western”, as in “formed by the combined foundations of Greco-Roman civilization and Western Christianity” (Gabbe), raised positive thoughts in my mind since I learned about it shortly after discovering Buddhism. “Western” when used in the context of medicine is an exception to this, but we are now seeing more and more Westerners dishonor the progress their ancestors made towards modern, mainstream, dare I say, Western medicine as they fall for anti-vaccine and anti-mask pseudoscience.
Nowadays, some who use the word in a derogatory context are uneducated reactionaries that bash anything and everything Western, yet hypocritically promote the Western political ideology of fascism. A strength that a majority (though now a decreasing number) of Western countries have is their progressivism, supporting scientific advancements, women’s rights, racial equality, and the LGBT+. However, this is not just becoming less common; being a progressive Westerner is not enough, not enough to end Western imperialism, to save the sacred truths taught to us by the Shakyamuni Buddha, or to empower the working class.
Although I never fully approved of Western culture after my weeaboo phase ended, my early teen self still ended up falling into the anti-social justice warrior side of YouTube that I now recognized hindered my understanding of what actually ruined my country, the United States of America. I still did not feel comfortable calling myself a Westerner but mainly because the West did not widely accept Buddhism and has several times in its history persecuted Buddhists. At the same time, I was deceived by a bastardized form of Buddhism common among Westerners (known as “secular Buddhism”, which picks and chooses aspects of the Buddha’s teachings instead of accepting them as a whole), so I was a bit more of the classic, stereotypical atheist neckbeard who fetishized the East up until 2020. Since then, my views became more progressive similar to those of American liberals and I denounced traditionalist Western beliefs, but like the average American liberal, I did not see Western culture, both traditional and progressive, as the peril I now see it. It was not until around the end of 2023 when I discovered the Western problem.
It was a slow burn that started with my discovery of Buddhists on the internet talking about how the West misrepresented Buddhism to appeal to “self-help” consumerists, Christians, and New Age followers. In the Westerner, I originally saw only a person who followed harmless customs, traditions, and other norms that came from a part of the world where Buddhism was not the dominant religion (if you could even call the non-theistic dharma as taught by the Gautama Buddha a religion). And so, I did not believe that Western civilization needed to fall for the safety of the dharma, let alone for its own people. After all, I thought to myself, the West has contributed so much to science and the modern world as we know it. I still believe to this day that there are no superior cultures and that each one simply has its own unique strengths and weaknesses, some of which are only subjective. However, while looking through Buddhist forums, I was shocked to hear about the West’s pollution of Buddhism and my knowledge on Buddhism skyrocketed as I learned that I fell victim to the Dunning-Kruger effect. I started reading sutras and immersing myself with Buddhism by listening to those who have much more experience than I do. There are hardly any Buddhists in my community and the only Buddhist center within reach is a New Kadampa Tradition meditation center (FYI: the New Kadampa Tradition must be avoided since it has a reputation for financially exploiting members and its monastics have allegations of drug trafficking and sexual abuse), so books and the internet are all I have left.
Practicing Buddhism in the West is nearly impossible without a community, without a Buddhist teacher, without any resources written by Eastern Buddhists. Reddit user u/Tendai-Student, a “lay Tendai Student [sic] with aspirations to become a Priest [sic]” states the following:
It is exceedingly challenging for a Westerner who is interested in Buddhism to find reliable information. Bookstores' Buddhist sections are rife with myths about the religion (we will come to some of these misconceptions below). Buddhism-related disinformation abounds in university classes. Misinformation about Buddhism abounds in publications with a Buddhist theme. Even Buddhism-related english-speaking [sic] Reddit boards are prone to carry false information.
Buddhism is constantly distorted in the same way: to make it more agreeable to Abrahamic faiths(especially Christianity in the west) [sic]. To imply that it is subject to Western standards, Western religion, and Western consumerism and materialism.
…Asian teachers are frequently excluded from English-speaking Buddhist places (meditation centers, university forums, periodicals). Asians make up the majority of Buddhists in the United States, despite the fact that popular images of Buddhism in the West make it appear otherwise. In the minds of Westerners, Buddhism is a religion of white converts. They don't even pay attention to the odd lack of Asians in some Buddhist areas. (u/Tendai-Student)
It is no wonder that I went through a phase when I was a weeaboo with “yellow fever”. The Westerner commodifies and commercializes these Buddhist practices and East Asian customs like they do with several other cultures. Its misuse and stealing of Buddhism is the worst because its teachings are for us to end suffering by ridding ourselves of the three poisons: greed, ignorance, and hatred (which the Westerner promotes).
My realization of this drew me away from the West, similar to when my obsession with the East began. The difference is that my interest in the East now is not because of a fantasy born out of misguidance, especially not a sexual one. I now know that there is more to the East than its pop culture. But I cannot help thinking that none of this would have happened and I would better understand Buddhism had I been born to and raised by Buddhists in East Asia, or even a majority Buddhist country in South or Southeast Asia.
However, the possibility of a cycle starting with a yo-yoing fetishization of the East makes me anxious. When I realized what I was doing at first was fetishization, I did further research and found out that the West is to blame for its portrayal of the East in its media. This in turn makes me denounce the West and brings me back towards my obsession with the Sinosphere, which could lead to more fetishization.
Despite this, I am glad that at the very least, my interest is more than just wanting to live a kawaii lifestyle, hoping to have a “submissive housewife who will look young forever”, or all that neckbeard squick. I do have to say that there is something else that is drawing me towards the Sinosphere, not to mention that it is the region where Buddhism is dominant (the same is true to a lesser extent with the Indosphere). Even though I am not a huge fan of tradition since I am very progressive, when a region’s culture gets something right, they get it right. In addition to Buddhist values, the Sinosphere holds education and collectivism to a high degree. It is no wonder I find their people so much more intelligent and caring than people from my culture.
It is common knowledge that countries such as Japan, China, South Korea, and Singapore have the highest average IQs. To add to this (unbeknownst to many), even less developed countries, e.g. Mongolia, with high Buddhist populations around the same region, have average IQs higher than developing and undeveloped nations outside the region. The most agreed upon reason for this is cultural factors rather than genetic or economic factors. To conclude, Buddhism combined with values in the East Asian cultural sphere creates the best “brains” to represent humanity, thus the West should make way for them, especially considering the East’s superior collectivism.
Of course cultures do not stay the same forever because they change over time. One big thing that is different now in the Sinosphere and Indosphere (the latter I am mentioning because it is where Buddhism came from, though it is not as dominant in the cultural region as it was) is that they are generally much more patriarchal and anti-LGBT+ than they were up until the last several centuries. However, Buddhism treats same-sex relations and being transgender the same as heterosexuality and being cisgender (preferring celibacy among monastics, though depending on the school of Buddhism, those in the monastic order may be treated as their birth gender, even if they are transgender), and in addition, the Buddha taught that women are just as capable of attaining enlightenment as men. Even outside of Buddhism, there are records of same-sex relations as early as the Shang dynasty in China and the temple walls in Khajuraho, India depict homosexual activity. As for feminism, China was matrilineal until the Han dynasty era, when Confucianism and filial piety became mainstream in the area, while India, home to over 100 different ethnic communities, has had a few matriarchal and egalitarian societies pre-European colonization. In the modern era, numerous people in the two cultural spheres are becoming more supportive of gender equality and the LGBT+, which in some cases may be due to Westernization (not that it redeems it) or simply the individuals’ progressive political views not influenced by Western culture.
What has stayed the same for the most part, besides Buddhism, is the Sinosphere’s and Indosphere’s value of collectivism in honor-shame societies and the former cultural sphere’s emphasis on education; this is what Westerners, as well as people all over the world, need for themselves. If the West is going to fall due to hyperconsumerism, late stage capitalism, and uneducated leaders, those living in the West would be better off joining Buddhism and assimilating to the East. Arguably, the best way to do this is to move to a majority Buddhist country, preferably one in the Sinosphere (its core countries being China, Japan, the Koreas, Taiwan, and Vietnam). Leave everybody you know from your home behind, especially non-Buddhists. Just to make things clear, Westerners are not necessarily evil and it is not their fault they were raised in a Western culture, but having these people in your life will hold you back from collectivism, quality education free of anti-intellectual quackery, and above all, understanding the dharma.
After you have left everybody in your life and started anew, you can immerse yourself in the culture. Again, abandoning Western food, media, clothing, and especially inventions and scientific breakthroughs is very unnecessary. Your main focus is reprogramming your mind to think like a person (specifically a Buddhist person) in the Sinosphere/Indosphere, utilizing the high educational standards, putting the collective over the individual, and taking refuge in the Triple Gem. Before moving, though, it is best to make yourself familiar with the customs and learn the language of the place you are moving to. To aid your assimilation, it would not hurt to start dating one of the locals who strongly identifies with the culture, regardless of their race. Someone living there who is not ethnically East, South, or Southeast Asian who is still very involved in the culture would be very helpful to your assimilation as one who is ethnically East, South, or Southeast Asian (I am clarifying this to discourage racial fetishization). This may be difficult as you would have to win over approval from their parents, let alone convince them to see you as another Easterner, but if you manage to do so, that would be fantastic. To make things easier, you could plan to move to a country where people treat women as equals and are relatively accepting of the LGBT+ so you would not have to worry about gender roles or whatever. Think of places in the Sinosphere such as Singapore, Taiwan, Japan, Hong Kong, or if you are planning on going to the Indosphere (which is not too big of a step down) since they did give us Buddhism after all, Nepal and Thailand. Your most important goal, however, is to rewire your brain to think in a more Sinic or Indic way and be more in touch with Buddhism.
You can hardly consider yourself a Westerner if you manage to do so, being Western only in your country of origin (and possibly race as well). I am definitely not like those other “people” from the West who strongly cling to Western culture because they just do not understand. Western cultural merit is almost solely from the proxy of our ancestors’ inventions, scientific discoveries, and political revolutions. Considering that the West is being brought towards the wrong direction in the modern era, we should get out of there culturally, if not physically, until it all hits the fan.
If the West continues its defilement of the rest of the world, when it falls, it will bring it all down with it. We must not lose or else everybody loses.
This pressure has a good side; because the bigger the great threat becomes, the more we will push ourselves to assimilate and raise children to fight for us. Considering the infectability of Western anti-intellectualism and “main character syndrome”, how could our Western peers know better? Buddhism is not a proselytizing “religion”, so our best bet is eliminating the promoter of the three poisons, the Westerner (especially the Christian Westerner), from our own lives. How it will run to us as its society collapses under itself and we welcome it to assimilate but say “we told you so”! The older I get, the better I know the Westerner. The better I know the Westerner, the easier it gets to excuse hostility against them, especially from the Sinosphere.
From my perspective, the ones to blame are not the angry, low-middle class white males in the rural United States nor the boba conservative bananas and right-wing coconuts who suck up to the West’s biggest scum, but rather the ones who have brainwashed them to fall for chauvinism, reactionarism, and laissez faire capitalism.
Realizing this, I am now closely investigating the sources of these beliefs which make up the foundation of social Darwinism and, when combined with totalitarian thinking, capitalist fascism. This is after I noticed that these systems are unsustainable and would destroy themselves from the inside out. The slow, painful destruction of communities who fall victim to them are well known to me. If one looks carefully, they can see the consequences that have been unfolding since the 2020 Coronavirus Pandemic. You may wonder: were the founders aware of this? My guess would be that they were not but were evil nonetheless because they were too selfish to think about the future, their descendants.
If this is the case, then it is the duty of us, the opponents of these ideologies, to spread the word faster than the ideologies are currently spreading in the West. It is hard for me to believe it is not the case considering that both Western political ideologies are fundamentally reactionary. Besides, I doubt they would want civilization as we know it to collapse.
I have a social Darwinist as a maternal uncle who sometimes meets with my parents, maternal grandfather, and younger brother and with his political conversations, often sourced from flawed studies, Russian news, and 4chan, I can easily study the principles of its theories. Both of my parents are also conservatives who support Trump and other immoral American politicians. Being raised by the two of them, I bet I could disguise myself as a Western right-wing traditionalist, maybe even a social Darwinist, since I know the way they speak, to whom they flock to, and how to make them give one their full attention. It would probably be easy to do this as some right-wing grifters can fool American right-wing audiences into thinking that they share the same beliefs (e.g. Thomas MacDonald).
Their kind are gullible because they do not listen to fact checkers and often do not do research to see if who they are listening to really practices what they preach.
Even though there are Westerners who are not like this, the West cannot coexist with Buddhism, let alone the cultures where it is dominant, as the West ruled by colonizing tirthikas and it will likely always be for as long as it lasts. And just because their culture is not as viable as the one founded on Buddhist, Sinic, or even Indic values does not give them the right to imperialize the rest of the world and bring it down with them. We can welcome the Westerner willing to change its ways, turn it into one of an Easterner, and have its culture go through a quick and painless demise, or the Westerner can continue its power trip, destroy everything it touches along with itself, and society will suffer a slow and painful death. This is what the conclusion that I have come to so far as I examine capitalist fascism and Westerners’ connection to it.
The Western doctrine of capitalist fascism rejects an aspect of maitrī, fulfilling beings’ basic needs, and substitutes it for a privilege towards the bourgeoisie and the exploitation of the workers’ labor (also known as Vergegenständlichung or “objectification”). Thus it denies the worth of the collective, only concerns itself with greedy individuals, and thus is immoral. Unlike what the non-Buddhist capitalist wants people to believe, all beings have an altruistic Buddha nature, but it is corrupted, being difficult to notice as it has only conditions without a beginning (listed in the Avijjā Sutta). Abandoning capitalism, both fascist and non-fascist, gives power to the people as it ensures a more guaranteed right to life instead of having not even one thousand billionaires own more than half of Earth’s population combined, more than each one of those billionaires could ever spend in their lifetimes.
Should the Westerner, especially one who pushes capitalist fascism, strengthen its grip on humanity, it can be said that it would make its own naraka.
And so I stand by my plan and encourage others to do the same because it is in the name of the Unsurpassable Enlightened One. By protecting our kind against the Westerner, we are defending the Triple Gem.
If it is not already clear, the disapproval I feel towards the societal values and prevailing norms of the West has led me to question my place in this environment. I believe that meaningful change can only be fostered if the West is put into its place and the Sino-Buddhist East motivates our minds.
In Vietnam, where the culture is predominantly Sinic with some Indic aspects and little European influence, we can see the promotion of quality education, collectivism, and Buddhism (practiced by a forgivable 15% of the population), very unlike the nearby country of the Philippines. In the Philippines, its citizens cling to the Anglo-Saxon and Hispanic culture brought to the country by American and Spaniard imperialists. The effects of this are very clear in their average IQs (Vietnam: 89.53 vs. Philippines: 81.64) and PISA scores (Vietnam: 1403 vs. Philippines: 1058). They are both developing countries in Southeast Asia that were colonized by the West, but because Vietnam kept its culture more pure and stuck to Buddhism (or at least Sinic philosophies), its people are better educated compared to the nearby Westernized countries in a similar economic situation.
In short, Westernization leads to the following:

1. The native culture becomes diluted
2. If Western thinking intrudes, mental degeneration takes hold of the native population and its society slowly degrades along with the West itself as it eats itself from the inside out

Those who cause this to happen must be stopped, especially those who endanger Buddhism. We must not wait for the fruition of their karma for their sacrilege of the Tathagata’s teachings because by then it would be too late, and even if it is instant karma, every bodhisattva’s job is to end suffering.
Those who spread the harmful ideologies bring themselves and others away from the Buddha’s word are polluting humanity by having them join their rat race that will only end in their own demise. They are leading to the ruin of many and thus, I do not consider them to be human but instead parasites.
There is a disgraceful Western belief that for a short amount of time was not held by the majority but is now very pervasive in the West and also is the foundation of reactionarism, chauvinism, and capitalism in all cultures. It says: “My individual rights matter the most and freedom means my right to violate the rights of others.”
This Western babble is followed by numerous all around the world and sows disharmony in societies where it becomes the norm. This idea provides basis for several types of Westerners, including but not limited to:

• the “Karen”; a middle-aged, entitled, often white and anti-mask/anti-vaccine female who makes trivial complaints
• the “Chud”; a racist, misogynistic, right-wing male (usually young) who browses 4chan everyday and has a high likelihood of becoming a mass shooter
• the dayangma (Hanzi: 大洋马); a sex-obsessed young adult Western female, majority white but sometimes POC, is conventionally attractive (to Westerners), sleeps around, and in some cases creates spawn that do not know their father(s)
• the angry white male; self-explanatory, right-wing and traditionalist (sometimes a social Darwnist or capitalist fascist), commonly rural, evangelical Christian and have never seen a POC before
• the “Trad Wife”; a prudish, sometimes uneducated, female who lets Western males walk all over it and raises spawn who are likely to become angry whites
• the New Agehippy; generally a teenager or young adult, a well-meaning but poorly educated white liberal or social democrat who misappropriates Buddhism and appeases Muslims
• the AmeriKKKan fathegrandfather; a middle-aged to elderly, chauvinist male with children, sometimes also grandchildren, and is unconcerned about social justice and similarly to the “Karen”, falls for pseudoscientific conspiracy theories
• the neckbearded otaku (Hiragana: おたく); a hairy white male with “yellow fever” and mediocre hygiene, for the most part subreddit/Discord server moderators who stalk and kidnap East Asian ladies (if not teenage girls)

The growth of these groups is evidence of the degradation of Western culture, showing that it must retire as the dominant culture and make way for the much more sustainable East. Once the manuṣya realm on Earth is completely tainted by the West, Buddhas can no longer arise in the world because the dharma would be known by nobody and the Vinaya are forgotten or destroyed.
The future generation will not remember the dharma unless we halt the growth of the parasitic culture that promotes overconsumption, hyperindividualism, and anti-intellectualism.
The Westerner has a remarkable contrast to the Sinic or Indic. The Westerner has a grasp on this world so strong with its weaponry since the 16th century, using force to disrupt the traditional lives of whatever native people it saw, safe for those in a few countries (even though some of those countries are still being Westernized). The Dutch, English, French, Portuguese, and Spanish built colonies from the Americas to Southeast Asia. The kingdoms were blessed with powerful militaries, strong economies, stable governments, and advanced technology that allowed their cultures to spread. But after half a millennium and looking back, was any of this really earned? And is the Westerner’s conquest over yet?
Since the Great Schism of Christianity, the Westerner trained itself for roughly one thousand years. It trained itself in several aspects, but it forgot an important piece, the dharma. The cunning Westerner, blessed with advancements, used them to tyrannize other peoples on a scale never before seen. This was the beginning of the Latter Day of the Dharma. The dharma is declining because of the savage Westerner. And so, it leeched off of any people it got a hold of, including predominantly Buddhist peoples. Even during the decolonization of the 20th century, fundamentalist Christianity spread and threatened the dharma. To make matters worse, previously Buddhist peoples clung to Christianity as taught by their colonizers; the French in Vietnam and the Spanish and Americans in the Philippines. To this day, the Philippines is a lost cause along with its majority Muslim neighbors in Maritime Southeast Asia. The cunning Westerner turned the Filipino against us and now Buddhists make up only 2% of the Philippines’ population. Now, the Westerner sees Buddhism as nothing more than an aesthetic, a self-help lifestyle, or a decoration that they can commercialize and cherry pick aspects to integrate into their religion or lack thereof.
It is excellent for someone from the West to learn the dharma as this will turn them into a more compassionate and wise person, but they must not enforce the Western gaze onto it and discard parts of the Shakyamuni Buddha’s words they do not like. To be fair, some aspects of Buddhism would be nearly impossible for a Westerner to understand unless they assimilate.
Buddhism is not materialist or blind belief without evidence and it belongs to the East, so stop pretending to be something you are not while pushing stereotypes of Asian Buddhists.
However, even though Buddhism is not materialist or very in line with the Western worldview, it is uniquely human. Walpola Rahula, a Sri Lankan Buddhist monk and writer explains it this way:
Among the founders of religions the Buddha (if we are permitted to call him the founder of a religion in the popular sense of the term) was the only teacher who did not claim to be other than a human being, pure and simple. Other teachers were either God, or his incarnations in different forms, or inspired by him. The Buddha was not only a human being; he claimed no inspiration from any god or external power either. He attributed all his realization, attainments and achievements to human endeavour and human intelligence. A man and only a man can become Buddha. Every man has within himself the potentiality of becoming a Buddha, if he so wills it and endeavours. We can call the Buddha a man par excellence. He was so perfect in his 'human-ness' that he came to be regarded later in popular religion almost as 'super-human'. Man's position, according to Buddhism, is supreme. Man is his own master, and there is no higher being or power that sits in judgment over his destiny. (Rahula 3)
How could one even consider the Westerners who diluted Buddhism human themselves at this point? If it were not for them, Westerners may have a better understanding of the teachings of the “man par excellence”. We are lucky that the only Westerners who necessarily see us as inferior are white nationalists and fundamentalist Christians, otherwise the Westerner could have committed a genocide that would have left millions of us dead. Westerners are competitive beings, so they rarely act in concord towards each other. It is only when there is something that draws them together or away from a common danger.
If everybody on Earth becomes a Westerner, they would wallow in their shamelessness and would have nobody left to exploit except for each other until they destroy themselves.
Until they are the only ones left, they will vilify and exploit anything non-Western until they only have each other, then leading to a chaotic world of undignified militaries, economic inequality, corrupt governments, and little or no innovations.
Unless the Westerner considers even the slightest of inspiration from the East, it will continue to follow hyperindividualism and have apathy towards its education. That is why the West is falling. Those from the West who are smart enough to realize that the West’s flaws that it spreads are deciding that the West is not worth maintaining and its resignation is overdue. If those from the West abandon it to assimilate to the East, it would make the West’s death quicker but more dignified.
This is more than a fad but rather the realization that Western society would be best being a passing fad itself. The West gave us great inventions, food, clothes, scientific discoveries, etc. and once it is gone, the East can pick up where it left off just fine.
We will never abandon the Triple Gem because we recognize it to be more than a spiritual, exotic aesthetic or trend. To do so would make us just like those others in the West who Asian Buddhists look down upon. When the time is right, each and every one of us will surround ourselves with the people who know the dharma better than anyone you have met in the West and we can finally be at their level. We shall be Western only in our country of origin and/or race, but in every other way, we will be Easterners; Buddhist Easterners who will take back what rightfully belongs to us.
When we (and hopefully Buddhists outside of both the Eastern and the Western world) do this, consumerism will lose some of its biggest prey. Even though it may not seem like it at first considering we are abandoning everyone we have ever known, we are doing our ancestors a favor by joining the culture that strives towards the end of suffering. We will be leaving our cultures’ ways of thinking behind, but doing this will save face for our lineage, especially the Western lineage as we would be preventing the creation of more “Karens”, “Chuds”, dayangmas, “neckbeards”, and other degenerates. We will not be annoying dorky nerds and certainly not “neckbeards” who are overly obsessed with and fetishize the culture but people making an effort to get closer to the dharma and surrender to the East.
Although we are collectivists, we must seek personal liberation first for the good of other beings. Once the West collapses and its former supporters come running to us, we shall welcome them. If some do not recognize this before it is too late, well boo hoo! They will have a better birth with the world we will create. Some of them, especially their unlucky spawn, would probably be better off dead and reborn into a better life, maybe even the Pure Land.
The way it is looking now, the West is falling and becoming the world’s laughingstock, which is a good thing. The quicker it falls, the less painful it will be for the Westerner and everybody else. Western culture will not be missed, but we can keep the best of it and continue the innovations that the creators would wish to see. We will remember the legacy of them and be thankful while never forgiving or forgetting the ones who ruined the West.
Works Cited
“Ignorance Avijjā Sutta (AN 10:61).” Translated by Ṭhānissaro Bhikkhu. Dhammatalks. 2017, https://www.dhammatalks.org/suttas/AN/AN10_61.html. Accessed 31 May 2024.
Gabbe. “Western Culture.” Wikipedia. 25 May 2024. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Western_culture#:~:text=The%20core%20of%20Western%20civilization,Roman%20civilization%20and%20Western%20Christianity. Accessed 31 May 2024.
Rahula Thero, Walpola. What the Buddha Taught. Oneworld Publications, 1959. Accessed 31 May 2024.
u/Tendai-Student. “栄真Eishin (u/Tendai-Student).” Reddit, 31 May 2024, https://www.reddit.com/useTendai-Student/. Accessed 31 May 2024.
u/Tendai-Student. “Buddhism is being MISREPRESENTED in the West Marginalisation, cultural appropriation, misconceptions and what you can do.” Reddit, 2023, https://www.reddit.com/WrongBuddhism/comments/14zc6xg/buddhism_is_being_misrepresented_in_the_west/. Accessed 31 May 2024.

I recently about 2 months back updated my iPhone to latest ios 17. After that my receiver speaker stopped working and when I activated hearing aid on, get a very low sound gets emitted from the front speaker. Any solutions to fix this. Apple Store claims they need to replace screen to fix this issues. And Apple replace program is not available for this phone as it’s crossed 3 years timeline.

I’m on the second week and my audiologist turned the volume up another bit. I can hear obviously more sounds and voices are louder. So does music, but I’m wondering if I’m damaging my hearing by listening to it for extended periods of time with the volume on max on the phone(iphone, listening to iPhone Music)??? I hope I didn’t mess with my hearing…so I was wondering if you can cause yourself more hearing loss with these listening practices and volume so high trying to hear more of the music, even though I find the max volume topped out is similar to the aid facing normal voices from family, thanks

Do you know? Life at polytechnic colleges is completely different from high school classes. However, the thing that remains the same is taking notes for your reference. Taking down notes is not only essential for recalling the taught lessons but also helpful in that you learn things and remember them in a better way. So, how to be good at taking notes? Let us share some useful tips to take notes here.
1. Listen and then write
Don’t be too hurried in noting down that you hear everything from your lecturer. Important points that are highly important in your diploma courses in villupuram
academic scoring will be shared by the lecturers. Be patient and be an active listener in the class. So, if you want to have some useful notes, listen to the important points, and understand what they have said and then you can note it down.
2. Embrace the Cornell method
The approach of Cornell note-taking method aids the students in organizing notes into easily understandable summaries. Since this method includes a summary, main points, details, and study cases, it is quite helpful.
3. Use highlighting
Are you aware of what professors at leading polytechnic colleges Villupuram say? They emphasis on highlighting the points! With a system for highlighting, it becomes really easy to see how it clarifies your notes. It also indicates specific points that need exclusive attention to study.
4. Read before you come to class
No matter the branch you belong to, if it is a diploma in civil engineering or mechanical engineering or any other stream. All you need for the best note-taking system is to have a good understanding of the material that you are going to be taught.
5. Review
Once the lecture or class is completed, you should have a review of notes. While taking notes helps in better sticking to the information you have learnt, reviewing them is really useful for boosting your skills at mastering the information.
Try the above tips to take notes in your next classes and stick to the system that works best for you!

Greetings Climbers!
I have only just finished reading Edge of the Woods, and let me begin by saying how deeply I loved this book. Despite being hesitant at the more high fantasy nature of the tale (Fae and the like) I literally couldn't put it down. Edge was just so likeable and his pursuit of growth and strength like most of Andrew's books just catches me every time.
Towards the end of the book I started becoming enthralled more in the mystery of the who. Who are the characters we're meeting, the hints that they belong to and have already been seen in the universe. The Blackstone bandit and Ayara, the silver essence of the dominion breaker, the echos of the sword school. It set my mind reeling and being desperate for more.
My problem I guess is that, although I have read all of Andrew's works; with a big focus on Arcane Ascension and by proxy Weapons and Weilders; my pea brain has forgotten / is just unwilling to make certain connections. For example I didn't get that Scribe was Jonan. Which is more than a little obvious, but it's been a number of years since I read WOBM and my brain just didn't take the leap, or remember enough to do so.
BUT I WANT IT TO! I'm enthralled by the universe and want to have enough to make these connections and look for the deeper meaning. As such I have resolved to do a lore re-read of the entire collection again.
Has anyone done the chronological read-through as suggested on Andrew's site? And would they recommend it as a good way to connected with the deeper lore?
Otherwise, are there any resources / overviews or compendiums that might help me learn more about the universe, or aid with a re-read?
I'd love to hear your advice, as I'm committed to getting more out of the books, because I know there's' more to be had.
PS, Big thank you to Andrew for these works, they've made a difference in my life, and brought much joy. Will be an avid fan all my days.

First/Previous
Since I knew there was a time before, I’ve wanted it, but that was child’s hope; even as a boy I wanted a dream. I wanted some divine being to enter from heaven and tell us all how it should be, but that wasn’t something I could ever count on—of course. Is there a god? I think so. I’ve seen those things and if they exist, then surely there’s a maker on the other end of it—god made both the light and the dark if the word’s to be believed and all we can hope for is a glimpse of the former. Even for a second.
The streets were soaked with blood and so many artillery rounds were fired into the sky—many I witnessed missed Leviathan—that I forgot what silence was like (not to mention the screams and there was a lot of that).
In the scrambling, I found I was reentering deeper into Golgotha and that wasn’t good. There was the ever-present thought that Maron was around every corner; the man had haunted my thoughts for longer that he should have and every time it was like an overwhelming force. It was simple enough after all, he was a piece of the past, a piece I could theoretically reach out and touch and that was what kept me to him.
In the fray of bolting citizens, I pressed myself to the exterior of a wall—I’d neared the stairs which once led to my apartment—and I kept out of the way of those that mindlessly went; some of those which rushed from the onslaught were those afflicted with skitterbugs and many of them either hobbled on blackened legs or—and this was rare—comrades or family helped to carry those which could not carry themselves. It was a baffling sight. A man carried a woman like a child (her toes had fallen off and her legs were black to the knees) and though he strode on with her, his own boots were caked with a mixture of blood and earth. An older girl led a young boy from the whirlwind of dust which was kicked up in the square; the boy’s eyes were whited, and his hands were curled to his chest, discolored. People, whatever duality there is, cared. There was not a drop of the apathy I’d learned and encouraged in myself.
I chewed like a mad dog through my bindings, and it was of little use; I yanked at the cord which secured my hands together and received rope burn in return. “Bitch!” I cussed the thing, but the flames in the sky were so loud, the bangs and vibrations from the artillery consumed all so it was like yelling in a barrel. I swung my hands out in front of me, feeling useless and felt a sudden urge to try again. I bit into the cord and repetitively motioned my jaw against the pressure of the cord, like I was going to saw through it with my teeth. Ha! Another yank is what brought my left hand free, but not without tearing a triangle of skin away from my wrist.
The cord dropped to my feet, and I looked around; a woman brushed past me, nearly toppled over my foot and I caught her by the wrist before she went head-over. She violently thrust from my grasp and screamed something at me. Another bout of flames burst from Leviathan’s maw as it circle-dove overhead. The heatwave from the blast exploded across my face so that I recoiled from the sky itself till I was on the ground, and I pushed myself from the earth and ran half dog-like from my place there at the wall. Where? It was hard to say where when every person that touched-by seemed to send me in another direction; in the madness, it was impossible to tell my course.
With time and effort, I found my way to the opening where the hydro towers were, three pillars which rose above Golgotha’s skyline, each one a testament to human resilience—engineers laborers toiled untold hours under Lady’s father to construct them. The hydro towers exploded into rubble as Leviathan slammed into them. Rock rained down as cutting shards and destructive boulders. A man lay beside my feet where he'd been pinned by the onslaught—white concrete kept him there by his chest—he gasped for air and blood already formed around him. In a moment, I looked away at the dying man, his half-whited eyes bulging at me. Meat hung from the left side of another man’s face as he cradled his head in his hand and moved like he was stoned and sat among the stomping feet; he slumped into the spot he sat and did not move till others came by him in a hurry and he simply fell onto his side like a toy animal.
The screams were too much. I looked to the towers, the nubs which had broken away like bad teeth against the red sky, and whole people fell alongside the rubble, limbs and showers of blood and Leviathan latched atop the towers and rocked its massive body so that the structures slipped directly from their foundations and tumbled over like pins. I ran and again there was nothing but chaos, nothing but mind-numbing wilder thoughts—it was grim and there wasn’t a place for coherency; it was all snaps of images.
In the mess of bumbling limbs, I pushed through to the hall of Bosses and there were people there already, rushing the stairs; the ground shook and I assumed it must’ve been the towers. The things demolished all in their path, and briefly, I saw the ramshackle structures which normally stood in their shadows come slanting over and people leapt from those places too and landed poorly and there was a cacophony of tremors through the earth—it felt as though hell should open.
The steps at the base of the hall were flooded and it was a fight to climb them as legs came high up from ahead and swiped at those behind and I kept my hands ahead of me to block whatever foot may come my way.
Wall men stood ready with their rifles at the tops of those steps and fired their weapons indiscriminately into the crowd. Bodies, big and small, piled atop the steps after a brief bullet dance and it came that I wasn’t only climbing stairs, but corpses; the warmth of their flesh as I clawed ahead remained and blood fog hung in the air. That grouping of wall men, casually lined before the doors of the hall were overtaken and they disappeared, their rifles cackled and came alive with muzzle flashes and the animal hands of the horde brought them to ground.
Us, the horde, funneled through those front doors and for a moment, in the thick walls of the hall, the outside world audibly disappeared; the blood and dust remained, but it was quieter save the shuffling feet and cusses of passersby I was carried deeper.
Those that worked the underground went quickly and I followed, and those ignorant followed for the sake of survival and it was not long till we stumbled into the Boss’s lair. With room, people dispersed like water through the tunnels and found dark recesses to tend their wounds or mourn whatever was lost and the explosive open air had been fully replaced by the quiet black oppressive mumbles of people taking stock of all those that had died. And all those that would. Every few moments, the walls shook, and dust fell from the ceiling fixtures.
A few haggard folks moved to the doorway which led to the damp room which led to the kitchen, and they slammed the door shut and latched it and began to check adjacent rooms for things to barricade the way.
“Stop!” said a man in the dim flickering underground light—I was surprised to see the man was me, “Leave it open! Others might need help.” I retraced my steps to the small faction that’d gathered there at the doorway. “You can’t just let them die out there. Let them in.”
“Shut up!” a skinny girl with her hair pulled back on her malnourished skull spoke gruffly; she choked, coughed—dust clung to her clothes—she’d been near the collapse of the hydro towers if I guessed. “Step off, or I’ll—
“Or you’ll what?” I shouted.
The girl put up her fists, two lumpy stones, and in stupid response I closed the distance between us. With speed, her fist met my nose, and I stumbled back on my heel.
Without hesitation, I brought up my own hands and landed a blow to her stomach. She craned forward, gasped on repeat, and took a knee.
Blood wet my upper lip, and I wiped it away with my forearm.
“Move,” I said to the others by the door; there were two: a woman and a boy that was nearly a man.
The boy charged headstrongly, attempted a kick and I easily shoved his small frame against the tunnel wall; the hard metal sounded a meaty thud against his body and the woman launched unseen at me, raked her nails down the back of my neck, and tore at my collar. I kept a forearm to the boy’s throat and rocked his head with my free elbow. Once he wept and spit red, I let him go; the boy slid into a sit and I spun on the woman, shoving her away. My left leg began to give, and I used the wall over the boy’s head as support. I swung at her with a wild claw and my fingertips grazed her nose as she fell away to the opposite wall.
“Stop it!” I shouted.
She launched at me, and my leg gave out under her tackle, and I stumbled half-on the boy, my feet kicked helplessly at her, and the boy regained his composure and began to crawl towards me. We wrestled and then the girl I’d knocked in the gut rejoined the fray. I was done. They had me pinned and spat curses at me and took turns shoving my head into the floor.
“You’re going to get us killed,” shouted the woman, “Are you stupid?”
I grinded my teeth and tried to throw them off; I was overpowered and easily pressed down again.
The overhead lights flickered with another deep earthy vibration and the trio let go of me in an instant—I came up swinging my arms like crazy and as I went to kneel before propelling myself to stand, a hand rested on my shoulder. I spun on the hand and was met with the black mouth of a 9mm pistol—that froze me fast.
The owner of the weapon—a wall man by the look of her fatigues—motioned for me to stand and I did. Her eyes were far off and nervous and the metal shook in her outstretched hand. “Against the wall!” she barked at us; she was small-framed and youthful but full grown, and I could easily push her out of my way if not for the pistol. We went to the wall, and she moved to the door while keeping the gun drawn on us. She watched us and glanced at the door. “It’s latched! Who latched the door?” She asked.
No one spoke. The other three looked to their feet; I initially refused to rat, and snorted blood—my nose throbbed and by touch I could tell it swelled already.
“Well? Why’s it closed?” she asked the question more like a desperate child than a person with control. “C’mon!” The 9mm rolled limply on her wrist as she said the word, like she was attempting to draw the confession from us with the motion.
“There’s an attack. They’re killing everyone,” said the boy.
The girl and woman nodded.
“Who?” asked the wall man.
“Demons, muties,” said the boy, “Big stuff. Everyone’s dying.”
The ground shook as if to emphasize his point.
The wall man studied us for a moment, lingering last on me and for the longest and she took a long breath and let the sigh out dramatically slow. “I know you,” she motioned at me with the gun, “You’re that maniac. The one that tried to murder everyone.” Her eyes fell then returned and she put her weight on the door while maintaining the barrel of the gun eye-level in my direction.
“I ain’t gonna’ hurt anyone,” said. I briefly thought about smiling but decided that’d look worse.
“How do I know that?” she asked.
“Yeah,” said the boy, “He tried to kill us already!” His voice cracked with adolescence; the blood I’d spilled from his mouth coated the front of his holey shirt.
The trio nodded all together—everyone agreed that I was a maniac killer.
“They latched it,” I said, “Cowards.”
A thump came from the other side of the door which frightened the wall man and she leapt from the spot she’d leaned—it took several full seconds to realize her gun went off; there was a flash, and my ears rang. I stumbled from the knot of people and slunk a couple of feet from the space by the door. The girl—the one I gut-punched—collapsed to the floor while holding the right side of her face. The women crowded the girl, panicked, the boy sprinted past me and disappeared deeper into the underground, and the wall man stood there with a wretched blank expression. There was a long moment which hung in the air; I could not hear and then it came back, and it was the girl’s screams I heard first.
Upon stepping to them, I saw the prone girl had been shot just so—through the cheek. Her eyes rolled from likely spinal damage; whatever the angle, it seemed to have ripped through irreparable nerves and she bled a lot. There wasn’t any hope for that girl.
“Well,” I said to the wall man, “Finish it. No reason to make her suffer.”
The girl on the ground writhed unnaturally and caterwauled while the woman by her side attempted to calm her.
Greater became the sound of the belabored hands on the other side of the door; then a hollow-sounding gunshot came from the other side; were they shooting the door? Or each other? Another round—human screams.
The wall man shook her head. “I didn’t mean it. It was an accident.”
I tried to hold the wall man’s gaze, but she didn’t seem able.
With speed, I moved to the wall man, reached for the gun which dangled helpless by her side—her initial response was to flinch, pull the weapon from my reach; our eyes locked and I clenched my jaw. She could’ve killed me. There wouldn’t have been surprise from me if she had.
She let go of the gun and I nodded, and she nodded and the woman kneeling by the girl threw herself over her. “Please,” protested the woman, “Please don’t!”
With the aid of the pistol, I was given space, and nothing was said. I mentally prepared myself for the ringing which accompanied gunfire in small spaces, even tilted my head away with my free palm up and took aim and the girl jerked once then went still.
With the ringing going and sound returning, the drumming on the door returned, as well as the quiet weeps of the woman; she crawled to the wayside of the hall, pressed her back against the wall and rested her chin on her knees with her arms around her shins. She didn’t rock to or fro and hardly made any noise at all. But the small and quiet sobs remained faintly there.
First/Previous
Archive

Something grabbed my leg at the pool.
I was on my last lap—just doing a leisurely breaststroke—when massive fingers wrapped around my thigh and dragged me down.
I squirmed and tried to get away, but the fingers were wrapped tight. They had some form of suction cups. My ensuing struggle attracted the attention of the lifeguard. As soon as he came to my aid, the massive fingers let go.
The guard believed me when I said that something had caught my leg. He inspected the area. But all he could find was a pink plastic wristband.
“That’s not what pulled me down,” I said.
He shrugged and put on the wristband.
***
In the locker rooms I swear I could hear something walking around, making large, squishy, plodding sounds. I stayed hidden in my change room, waiting for the sounds to stop.
From beneath the change room curtain I could see wet footprints. I could literally see large, towel-length footprints appear on the ground—out of nothing.
Of course it freaked me out. And of course I gasped out loud.
Before I knew it, the curtains opened and closed on their own.
I was cornered in the back of the changeroom.
I let out a half a scream before invisible wet fingers wrapped themselves around my face. My head was shoved against ceramic tiles.
Fear froze me completely.
A hot breath arrived, smelling like moldy fruit. Then a voice came. It was high pitched and squeaky, choking a little on its own words.
“No need to be scared. It's just me. JUMPY!”
Like a chameleon, the skin of the creature slowly solidified into gray. One of its eyes was the size of my head. I would say it looked like one of those red-eyed tree frogs, except it was nine feet tall and it could easily kill me.
It switched from holding my mouth to pressing its sticky fingers against my throat. “Remember me? Remember me?”
‘No’ seemed like the wrong answer, so I just repeated the name it told me. “...Jumpy?”
“YES! YES!” The creature jumped up and down—still holding me by the throat. If I hadn't grabbed hold of its fingers, it might have hung me on the spot.
“Jumpy! Jumpy Frog! That's me!”
I was dropped to the floor as it started to clap. The massive webbed hands created a deafening applause.
“Marie-Anne and Jamie made me when they were babies! I was their best friend!” The frog jumped onto a wall effortlessly and peered down at my struggling body. “Every day I was with them—every day I helped them!”
It was referring to my older twin sisters, who died last year in a car accident. Part of the reason I was out swimming so late is because that’s how I’ve been coping with their passing. We all used to do synchronized swimming for many years.
“But now they’re gone… They're gone! How terrible is that?!” The frog sounded like an overdramatic, sad cartoon. It teared up, and pounded the very wall it was climbing. “And now, no one believes in Jumpy!”
I was still recovering, breathing through a pinhole, but that didn’t stop Jumpy from hoisting me by the leg.
“You’re the only Whitaker sister left! You have to believe in Jumpy!”
It felt like I was speaking through a tiny straw. “Have to?”
“Yes! Can’t you see? I’m fading! I used to be green for frog’s sake!” Jumpy shoved its forearm against my face. Some of the gray slime stuck to me.
“If you don’t believe in Jumpy … I’ll die! And I don’t want to die!”
The frog crawled to the ceiling and dangled me by the leg, high above the marble floor. “You have to believe in Jumpy! You HAVE to!”
If I landed in the wrong way, I could easily break my neck, or skull. I forced myself to sound happy. “I believe in Jumpy, I believe in Jumpy.”
For the first time in the entire encounter, the creature treated me like a porcelain doll. I was gently lowered to the floor, and then patted on the head.
“Good. Keep believing in Jumpy. Think about Jumpy every day.” The frog made a gagging sound, then leapt back to the ceiling, leaving wet marks along the wood. “And if you stop believing in Jumpy, don’t worry … I’ll come back to remind you!”
The frog smiled in a way that made its giant eyes bulge and look in two opposite directions. I thought for a second it had a tongue lolling out of its mouth, but I peered closer, and could make out a human hand in its lips.
A human hand with a pink wristband.
Jumpy slurped it up.
***
Since that encounter I’ve basically been in a permament state of fear, praying that Jumpy never visits me again.
I’m an animator so drawing is a hobby of mine. I’ve drawn countless sketches of Jumpy and left them around my house, my work, on my phone, etc. Not a day goes by without me seeing a picture of that frog.
I believe I’m fulfilling my promise. I’m thinking about Jumpy every day. But I also haven't slept properly in like … months.
I’d like to stop thinking about the frog. But that also sounds terrifying.
I’m pretty much forced to think about my worst fear all the time.
Its wearing me down. I’m so exhausted…
What am I supposed to do?

Ron Paul Redux: The Texan Congressman Has an Unlikely Intellectual Heir: Vivek Ramaswamy is running on Paul’s regressive libertarian populism

Remember that moment in the Republican presidential debate when one brash guy voiced some unorthodox positions, and the other candidates hastened to express their vigorous disagreement? Probably not. I mean, the debate took place in 2011, and that controversial Republican, Ron Paul, has largely faded from memory.
When he ran for the GOP nomination in 2008 and 2012, Paul came across as a rumpled gadfly voicing unvarni­shed opinions that put him on the fringes of the party. But today, at 88, he can look with pride on an ideological heir who is young, handsome and slick– and happens to be in perfect harmony with the modern Republican Party: No, not Rand Paul, Ron’s son, the three-term Republican Senator from Kentucky. It is the practicing Hindu and son of Indian immigrants: Vivek Ramaswamy.
Ramaswamy doesn’t look or act like the avuncular Texas obstetrician. Educated at Harvard and Yale, with a glib confidence and a physique suited to playing tennis shirtless, Ramaswamy could hardly be more different. But that’s on the surface. Put him and Paul together in a room and they would find plenty to agree on. Not only do both self-identify as libertarians, they represent the same flavor of populist paleolibertarianism. The main difference is that Paul was starkly at odds with the prevailing ideology of the GOP back then. Ramaswamy, on the other hand, is fluent in the language of today’s very different GOP.
Comrades In Arms
Paul railed against the federal government and particularly the central bankers at the Federal Reserve. He abhorred multilateral institutions, affirmative action, foreign aid, welfare, and environmental protection. He denounced NAFTA as a step toward a North American Union. He vowed to cut federal spending by $1 trillion in his first year and abolish five cabinet departments. His newsletter described Martin Luther King Jr. as “the man who replaced the evil of forced segregation with the evil of forced integration.” Paul later claimed that he didn’t write or approve such statements in the publication that bore his name. But his followers ate them up.
You can hear distinct echoes of much of this in Ramaswamy.
The 38-year-old pharmaceutical tycoon says he would eliminate the Department of Education, the IRS, the Nuclear Regulatory Commission and the FBI, part of his unlikely plan to get rid of 75% of the federal workforce. He has said he would cut off aid to Ukraine and, in time, to Israel too – though he later reversed himself on the latter. Like Paul, he claims the “climate change agenda is a hoax.”
When a white gunman killed three Black people in Jacksonville, Florida, Ramaswamy, who likewise opposes affirmative action, put the blame not so much on the perpetrator but on racial preferences for creating “a new wave of anti-Black and anti-Hispanic racism in this country.” He suggested his running mate might be Robert F. Kennedy Jr., who is notorious for his anti-vaccine disinformation, popular in certain libertarian circles.
Ramaswamy has raised the possibility that government instigators were involved in the Jan. 6 insurrection. But you know who beat him to that? Ron Paul. (There is no evidence of that.)
Carrying Water for Trump
Ramaswamy says, “I don't think Donald Trump was the cause of Jan. 6,” ignoring a Himalayan pile of evidence confirming that he was thoroughly complicit in the Capitol insurrection. Without knowing the evidence that will emerge during Trump’s criminal trials—which Ramaswamy smears as “politicized prosecution”—he promises to grant the former president a full pardon. Oh, and he describes Trump as “the best president of the 21st century,” despite his unprecedented effort to overturn a free and fair democratic election.
Paul, meanwhile, has said little—if anything—about Trump’s role in inciting the Capitol mob. He has, however, slammed the Jan. 6 Congressional hearings as “insurrection theater” perpetrated by “desperate Democrats.”
On NBC’s “Meet the Press,” Ramaswamy outlined the following bizarre scenario if he were certifying the last election instead of Mike Pence: “Here’s what I would have said: ‘We need single-day voting on Election Day, we need paper ballots, and we need government-issued ID matching the voter file.’. . . In my capacity as president of the Senate, I would have led through that level of reform, then on that condition certified the election results, served it up to the president — President Trump — then to sign that into law. And on January 7th, declared the re-election campaign pursuant to a free and fair election.”
And then he would have ridden away on his purple unicorn. Ramaswamy’s alternative was not only idiotic but impossible, a tribute to either ignorance of the Constitution and the legislative process or breathtaking dishonesty. Paul had a reputation for being a kook given his many offbeat crusades. But Ramaswamy seems determined to outdo him.
On immigration too, Ramaswamy and Paul are remarkably aligned with each other and at odds with policy libertarians, who paleolibertarians deride as establishment elites. Paul was against a border wall—at least he said he was—whereas Ramaswamy, borrowing from Trump, has pledged to “close the southern border.” But Paul talked incessantly about eliminating the incentives for “illegal immigration,” to wit, easy welfare and easy birthright citizenship for the children of undocumented. In the same vein, Ramaswamy has pledged to push a constitutional amendment ending birthright citizenship if elected.
Ramaswamy: No Anti-War Warrior
But that’s not the only thing in the constitution Ramaswamy wants to amend. He’d also raise the voting age to 25, which would disenfranchise 31 million people—more than the population of Texas. That’s one way to address the Republican Party’s low esteem among 18-to-24 voters, 65% of whom voted for Joe Biden in 2020, though he may not have considered the electoral vengeance they would exact as soon as they turn 25.
Ramaswamy’s measure combines the anti-democratic with the coercive. Young adults could gain voting rights by passing a civics quiz or by spending six months in the military or “first responder service”—his goal being to “revive civic duty among Americans.” He has also advocated compulsory universal service for high school students on summer breaks in his book, Woke Inc.
Much of this, along with Ramaswamy’s embrace of the Monroe Doctrine as a warning to foreign powers such as China that “America comes First and that our hemisphere is not to be encroached by our adversaries,” would not thrill the Paulistas whose version of America Firstism consists of not spilling American blood for foreigners. Nor would they likely go along with Ramaswamy’s proposal to use military force to “annihilate the Mexican drug cartels” or his suggestion to make a firm commitment to defend Taiwan against a Chinese attack.
But paleolibertarian Paul fans would be four squares behind Ramaswamy on ceding Ukraine to Putin – the only Republican on the debate stage in favor of doing so.
Mainstreaming the Fringe
They would also be open to Ramaswamy’s conspiratorial turn of mind. Paul has tried to distance himself from the kooky theories peddled under his name in his newsletter—like when in the grimmest days of the AIDS epidemic, it accused gays of plotting to “poison the blood supply”—but Paul himself is on the record claiming that the U.S. government knew about 9/11 in advance but kept it a secret. In a similar vein, Ramaswamy also hinted­ at federal involvement in the attack but recanted later.
When Paul ran for the GOP nomination, his views were effectively disqualifying. In 2012, his best showing, he finished third in the Iowa caucuses and second in the New Hampshire primaries. He eventually ended up with 8% of the convention delegates, putting him fourth in the overall race. But like Pat Buchanan before him, he was never halfway plausible as the Republican presidential nominee. His role was provocateur, taking bold positions that let his rivals unite in denouncing him as dangerous and irresponsible.
Ramaswamy likewise found his opponents ganging up on him in the first Republican debate, with Nikki Haley, Chris Christie and Mike Pence doing their best to read him out of the race. But his views, despite their similarity to Paul’s, can no longer be derided as conservative heresy. In fact, his rivals seemed to be the ones defensive with GOP voters, which is no surprise given Trump retains the allegiance of 59% of them, according to a post-debate poll.
Ramaswamy isn’t likely to win the nomination. But if he loses, it won’t be because his views are too extreme for the party faithful who remain under the spell of Trump’s toxic populism. That’s why Ramaswamy has shrewdly declared, “I’m in this race to take the America First agenda far further than Donald Trump ever did.”
To that end, Ramaswamy has put out a 10-point statement of his convictions which include “God is real,” “there are two genders,” “reverse racism is racism,” and “an open border is no border,” all intended to signal his vehement opposition to the left.
Paul was against the cultural left too but he didn’t make that the center-point of his campaign because the GOP then wasn’t fighting the culture war 24/7. But post-Trump, the party is fully consumed by the leftist enemy and so what was implicit in Paul is now explicit in Ramaswamy.
In retrospect, Paul was less an outlier than a forerunner. In his candidacy were the seeds of a new version of a populist libertarian conservatism—rooted in a suspicion of ties with the rest of the world, racial paranoia, rejection of cultural liberalization, hostility toward almost every major national and international institution, a propensity for red-pill fantasies and a distrust of democracy.
What was fringe in Paul’s time is now the dominant strain in the GOP—and Ramaswamy is determined to be its champion.

What are your thoughts? This is obviously a bold claim & I’m not sure I fully agree with it.

Hello, I am an American, 36 years old, looking for contacts and potential Units that have positions available for a professional. After hearing the stories of foreigners and their behavior I am a bit more hesitant. I'm a US Army veteran of six years as a infantryman (2009-2015) and have fought in the Korengal Valley of Afghanistan. I understand I have much to learn and adapt to and that this is a fight of a completely different caliber. And I understand the commitment and reality of my decision to join so any comments on the topic will be redundant. My career and training include:
-4 years infantry assault company: machine gunner and team leader -2 years Scout Recce and Sniper section: Sniper -12 month tour in Kunar Province, Afghanistan
Infantry OSUT, Air Assault Operations, Sniper School, Tactical Site Exploitation, Non Commission Officer Academy, Combat First Responder, Mortar University (cross training for light infantryman), Comms, CROW (command remote operated weapon),
Weapon Systems: M249 (expert) M240b (expert) M4 (expert) AK 74 (intermediate) Mk19 (expert) M2 .50 (expert) M203/M320 (expert) AT4/MLAW (Intermediate) Javalin (beginner) 60mm Mortar System
-Long Range (Expert) M24, M110, M2010, M107 (intermediate)
-Currently retraining on: Commo (Harris) Small Unit Tactics, Recce, Counter Sniper, Sniper Employment
-Would like resources for additional training: Demo, Commo, Mortar Systems, Drone, All relevant weapon systems, SOP's in place (with respect to OPSEC)
Since leaving the service I have become a climbing guide and high altitude mountaineer. As well as a whitewater raft guide on a class 5 river. I'm a Wilderness First Responder and Swift Water Rescue technician. Fitness is a top priority always. I study medicine and first aid in my spare time. And I'm rather advanced survival skills.
I would prefer to fall into a recce and Sniper unit as it's the one I'm most confident in. I am very trainable and eager to learn everything I can before arriving and while volunteering. I'm potentially assisting in SOF training exercises for the next few months or so which I hope to gain a lot of useful skills before arriving. But in the mean time I would like to make some contacts potential Units where I could be useful. I am a humble and quiet man of values. But also violence of action, not social media and accolades. If you are a verified volunteer or unit member please dm me for any assistance in getting to where I need to go. Thank you and stay safe

He attributed his tinnitus to neck issues and said his hearing aids kept him sane.

I'm the mom. I've been reading this site for so many years and it's been invaluable to me as a homeschool parent. I know my son's experience won't be relevant to a lot of you, but hopefully this will help kids taking an alternative path.
Demographics

• Gender: Male
• Race/Ethnicity: Latino, Jewish
• Residence: Northeast
• Income Bracket: $75K - $100K
• Type of School: Homeschool
• Hooks (Recruited Athlete, URM, First-Gen, Geographic, Legacy, etc.): Latino

Intended Major(s): Music, linguistics
Academics

• GPA: N/A
• Rank: N/A
• Number of Honors/AP/IB/Dual Enrollment/etc.: N/A
• Senior Year Course Load: English, Pre-calc, Spanish, Russian, Psychology

Standardized Testing
None.
Extracurriculars/Activities

1. Cello 30 hours a week, 52 weeks/yr 1, 2, 3
2. Piano 15 hours a week, 52 weeks/yr 1, 2, 3
3. Chamber music 10 hours a week, 52 weeks/yr 1, 2, 3
4. Research about music and language at major university, 5 hours a week, 30 weeks/yr 3, 4
5. Translator for Latin American immigrants 4 hours a week, 30 weeks/yr 3, 4

Awards/Honors

1. Admitted to Juilliard Pre-college for cello
2. Soloist at Carnegie Hall
3. Soloist with [list of] orchestras
4. National award for Latino leaders in music
5. Separate resume listing 20 national and international competitions won, and a list of scholarships received from music programs all over the US.

Letters of Recommendation
All the recommendations were from people who taught at universities. They showed us the recommendations ahead of time.
9/10 Music teacher. Taught him 3 years. Wrote about how accomplished my son was as a cellist. He also wrote about how my son overcame the shock of not being able to play at the same level after a car crash.
9/10 Spanish teacher. Taught him two years. Wrote about how he went from 0 to fluent in a year.
9/10 Jewish Studies teacher. Taught him at a summer program at Brandeis University that my son went to make sure he could handle regular courses with his brain injury. He isn't super religious but the teacher wrote an incredible recommendation.
Interviews
My son contacted the cello teacher at every school he applied to. (At Harvard and Case Western he contacted the affiliated music schools.) He played for teacher and did a short lesson to make sure they would like working together. In each lesson the teacher asked why he wasn't going to music school and he explained the head injury.
Essays
First essay: Wrote about the car crash where he lost his ability to hear the highest notes and he had to figure out what else to do with his life. He learned Spanish without being able to read or write while he was recovering from the head injury, and then did research on how kids with disabilities can learn a second language the way he did.
Second essay: Wrote about how learning Spanish helped him connect with his cultural roots and his experience being a translator for recent immigrants.
Extra essay: Explained why he graduated late. He spent two years in recovery and then decided to do junior year a second time so he could prepare for a regular college instead of a conservatory.
Decisions
Accepted

• Duke (going there!) (95% scholarship)
• Brandeis (95% scholarship)
• Northeastern (95% scholarship)
• Miami of Ohio (95% scholarship)

Waitlist:

• NYU (withdrew)

Rejections:

• Harvard
• Cornell
• Case Western

Additional Information:
I learned a few things that might help other parents/kids going through the process:

1. Schools don't care if you graduate high school late as long as there's an explanation.
2. The recommendations can go a long way making up for grades/scores as long as the recommender is a university professor and can compare the applicant to college students they've taught.
3. It's hard to understand how your story plays out on the application because you're so close to the story. We probably should have hired a college consultant to help us understand how admissions officers would read the application. At the time it seemed so expensive, but in hindsight it was too risky that we didn't hire someone.
4. Arguing about aid works. Miami of Ohio accepted him before the other schools but offered no aid. After pushing, we received 95% aid. A teacher at the university coached me on how to argue. This is probably another reason why we should have hired a college application counselor to help us; it's hard to know what you don't know, even after reading this subreddit obsessively.

I am very sad about how Bangladesh is turning out. Once we were regarded as 'মাটির মানুষ '. I have been very patriotic since I was a child, always loving my country ever since I learned about our history and how we gained independence through bloodshed.
I was also optimistic about the developments happening, especially in the road sector. But now I realize I would have rather preferred a country with good-hearted people over a developed nation. We have stooped so low as human beings. All I see around me now are corrupt individuals and 'batpars' (swindlers). Even for basic services, we have to pay bribes to get things done correctly and smoothly.
I started hating the country even more over the past few weeks. My elder brother works in a top-rated company in a good role, but he has a hearing deficiency and wears hearing aids. He is a self-made, hardworking man and never used his physical inabilities as an excuse to get to this position. A few weeks back, I accompanied my brother to the passport office. All the passport officials were very rude (as expected tbh), behaving as if they were doing charity work and not enjoying their jobs. I had a slight confusion, so I asked again where to submit a paper, to which the official got annoyed, shouted, and threw the paper towards me. I asked politely, so I expected a similar basic decency in return. What's there to shout and what's with that offensive gesture? If I received that reaction just because I asked again, I fear what my brother faces daily. On top of that, the 'dalals' were breaking the line to give papers to the officials, as if this was normal.
Next, when we went to the fingerprint and photo room, I accompanied my brother inside to help if any words or sentences needed to be repeated. Inside the room, a woman in a niqab took my brother's photo for the passport. My brother relies on lip-reading to understand speech better, so he had trouble understanding the speech clearly. Also, the speech was coming out in a muffled tone due to the veil. I respect anyone's attire, but the problem arose when she lost her patience. It wasn't like she had to repeat anything. I was repeating her words to my brother whenever he missed something. When it was time for the fingerprint scan, she instructed him to place his whole palm on the scanner. My brother misunderstood and put his fingertips instead, to which she yelled, "Shunte paren an?!" ("Can't you hear?!") and she gave me a stare too. I just nodded my head nervously, shocked by the lack of empathy. She could see he wore hearing aids, yet she dared to insult him. It’s not like she had to repeat any words, and even if she had to, that’s her job. I quickly showed my brother by displaying my whole palm in the air and he followed it successfully. I felt angry, insulted, and sad because that day I felt very hopeless and thought this country is not for us, not for disabled people.
Whenever I commute, I always find people with zero love, respect, and empathy for fellow citizens. When someone has a public job, they’re supposed to help people, and the first public job requirement should be to behave nicely. I always find these government sector employees so rude.
I am soft-hearted and full of love for people. Not to brag, but I always give an extra amount to underprivileged workers, such as 10-20 taka to rickshaw pullers in this scorching heat, as well as to local shopkeepers, barbers, etc. struggling with rising inflation, even though I have trouble saving money myself. The smiles on their faces when they receive the unexpected bonus warm my heart every time. I only wish I could receive the same kindness or just the basic decency from whom I take services.
I am leaving the country soon, but I am very stressed about how my elderly parents and brother will survive in a country full of rude people. I will always be worried about my family. My father always tells me to pursue my degree and come back because the country needs honest, educated people to thrive. But I’m afraid there is no platform to serve honestly. If you are honest in this country, you won't move up the ranks.
This country doesn’t give me any hope; the people are the worst. We have so many people showing religious beliefs, but they don’t understand the most important thing: being a kind human.

Hi. It's me, Polaris. Some of you might remember me, some might not. Some of my better works include Down on the Street, Holliday: Distraught, Incident, and Checking In. I also created the Destiny Journals Wiki that nobody uses anymore. Though I don't blame anyone for forgetting; I've been MIA for months by virtue of making a new account because I wanted a different username. Anyway. I'm back now, probably just as inconsistently as ever. With The Final Shape closer than ever, there's no better time for me to come back home. Enjoy!
The Black Garden
Polaris stared up at the Black Heart as it dissipated, a slack grip on the Ace of Spades. "It's over," he said breathlessly.
Daedalus hovered at his Guardian's side. "You've cleansed the Black Garden again, Polaris. Thanks to you, the Vex can't interfere with our work in connecting to Crow."
"Well done," Osiris said over comms. "When you return, I would suggest you make your final preparations before we enter the portal. We have no idea what awaits on the other side."
"Yeah. Yeah, I'll do that. See you soon, Osiris." Polaris cut off the connection as he returned to his sister Riven's gateway.
The Last City
Polaris assembled Fireteam Apex in the now-abandoned ruins of the Old Tower Plaza. "It's good to see you two again," he said warmly as the trio group-hugged.
"You have no idea," Hecate agreed as they stepped away from each other. "It's been so long since we were all together outside of defending the City from them." She glared up at the few Pyramid ships that had appeared above the City. The sounds of distant gunfire from the battles currently raging on echoed through the evening.
"So why now?" Nemea-13 asked. "You called us here for a reason, Polaris. Is something up?"
"You could say that." Polaris turned and faced the City. "Osiris and Mara are making good progress on opening the portal. It's only a matter of time now before we can go through and put an end to this. So, I want to make a request."
"And what's that?"
The Hunter sighed, looking back at his fireteam. "Don't come with me."
Hecate froze, taken aback. "What?"
"What are you saying?" Nemea asked, his voice cracking.
"You heard me. When I follow Crow into the portal, I don't want you to follow me. Stay here. Defend the City. Protect the people. Zavala and Ikora have already established that they'll be joining me in there. The City will need someone to stay behind and keep it safe between when we go and when we get back. That's what I want from you two. Stay behind, keep the people safe." Polaris looked back at the City. "I don't know what'll happen in there, but it'll be the most dangerous mission in Guardian history. I won't allow you two to die on me. If anyone's gotta die to stop the Witness, it'll be me. No ands, ifs, or buts."
"Oh, hell no." Hecate's confusion turned into a rising anger, though there were tears welling up in her violet eyes. "You do not get to play the 'heroic sacrifice' card on me. Not a chance." She held Polaris's hands in hers. "I won't lose you too. Especially not knowing I could've been there to stop it. I only have one life left, Polaris. I want to spend it with my brothers. Both of my brothers," she finished, looking back at Nemea.
"We're coming with you, and none of us are dying in there," Nemea agreed, pulling the smaller Guardians into a bear hug. "And there'll be no ands, ifs, or buts about that."
Polaris leaned his head on Nemea's shoulder. "This has to be my burden to bear, I know it. I think deep down, I've always known it. I started all this by killing the Black Heart. And Elsie said-"
"Screw what Elsie said," Hecate interrupted. "She may think you're the linchpin to everything, that this is your destiny. But you know what I've always known? Guardians don't fight and win against impossible odds alone. We stopped Oryx all those years ago as a team, the three of us. We'll do the same to the Witness."
"But-"
"No buts, remember?" Nemea hugged his siblings even tighter. "You're not alone, Polaris. Never have been, never will be."
Polaris gave Hecate and Nemea a tearful smile. "Alright. Alright, you guys. I get it. You're coming with me. Please let me go now before you crush a rib or something." He took a deep breath as he finally escaped Nemea's grasp. "What I said still stands, though. There's no telling what'll happen in there. We should all say our goodbyes to our other loved ones. Just in case. And get ready for the fight of our lives."
"Agreed." Hecate nodded. "These old weapons that Shaxx reprised for us should do well, but we'll need all the gear we can carry."
"Right. I'll see you guys when Mara and Crow finally make that connection, then?"
The trio nodded to one another and parted ways.
The Dreaming City, Mara's throne room
Polaris dutifully stood guard as Mara sat cross-legged on the throne in front of him. She was searching for Crow's presence, trying to establish the link and open the way into the portal. He watched as sweat gathered on her forehead and her brow furrowed with effort. With a frustrated growl, Mara opened her eyes and stood.
"Nothing?" Polaris guessed.
"Something," Mara corrected. "That is what frustrates me. I can feel Crow, but he is just beyond my reach. We're close, Polaris. I know it. Leave us," she said, turning her attention to the Corsair guards standing at attention nearby. They hurriedly left the throne room, the gateway closing behind them. Mara's shoulders slumped, and she practically crumpled into Polaris's arms, her hands resting on his chest. "I don't know what I'm doing wrong," she whispered.
"You're not doing anything wrong. C'mon, sit down." Polaris eased himself and Mara back onto the throne. "We have no idea where that portal leads. Presumably the inside of the Traveler, but we could be completely wrong about that. For all we know, you're trying to find Crow on another plane of existence."
"I... I'm scared, Polaris," Mara admitted with a sniffle. "Not just for Crow. For everyone. For everything. What if we're not strong enough? What if we die in the Traveler and the Witness enacts its Final Shape?"
"Don't even say that. You're Queen Mara goddamn Sov. The power of the Guardians plus you, and the Witness doesn't stand a chance. Fear nothing, bow to no one. Isn't that right, Your Grace?"
Mara's sob turned into a chuckle. "Sure thing, Young Wolf."
"Ouch. That's low." Polaris snickered back. "It's good to hear you speak casually. The way you are with your subjects is admirable and what I fell for all those years ago, sure, but I feel like I really know you now."
"I guess you do." Mara sighed. "Just for a few days, I'd like to just be me. Not the Queen, not My Grace. Just Mara."
"We can do that. What did you have in mind?"
"Some tea. And sleep. Preferably in your bed." Mara kissed Polaris's cheek. "I've very much enjoyed these past months together, you know."
"You and me both," Polaris agreed. "Hopefully we'll have even more time together once the Witness is dealt with."
"One can only hope. Now then. We should get going."
The Last City, a couple of days later...
Polaris and Mara cuddled together in his apartment. She was fast asleep already, while he was struggling to rest. He thought about the nearly ten years since he and Mara had first met. First the mutual curiosity, then the conflict, the allyship, and now this. She'd been the one to give him his name. He'd held a gun to her head and genuinely considered pulling the trigger. All that history, and he could only think of one thing to say to her.
"I love you," Polaris whispered, closing his eyes.
Tower Hangar
Hecate found Aunor Mahal sitting at the edge of the Hangar, her legs dangling over the side. "Hey," the younger Warlock said to the elder.
Aunor looked up. "Hey."
"How've you been?" Hecate sat down next to her former mentor.
"Busy, I guess. Preparing for the end of the world. You?"
"Same. Lots of therapy."
"How's that going?" Aunor asked.
"Boring. I don't think it's really necessary anymore. Anyway, I just wanted to say I'm sorry." Hecate sighed. "For going Dark, for killing Faye, for everything. All I ever think about is how much I regret everything I've done since learning Stasis. I abandoned everyone I've ever loved in the name of genocide."
"It's okay, Hecate. Really. The Witness used Stasis to get in your head. That's not your fault."
"No, it is. Part of my therapy has been differentiating between the Witness's influence and my own actions. And I know for sure that choosing to embrace its call was my choice. I wasn't brainwashed or possessed, that was just me. I just... if you ever see me going down that road again, please kill me."
Aunor looked Hecate in the eyes. She was deadly serious. "Hecate, I don't think I can-"
"You're the only one I can trust with this. Polaris and Nemea wouldn't be able to. So promise me. Promise you'll put me down if it needs to happen," Hecate begged.
"Okay. I promise. But it won't come to that," Aunor swore.
"I hope not. I'm gonna be joining Polaris and the Vanguard in going through the portal. Nemea and I both are. I just needed to get that out before we go so I'm in the right headspace, you know?"
"Yeah. I get it. Pre-mission clearing of the mind. Hey, why don't I come with you?" Aunor suggested. "You might need some more support."
"The City will need your support even more." Hecate shook her head. "With our leadership gone, the other Guardians will need people to rally them. You command respect from both the Praxic Order and the Hidden. They'll answer to you. Think you can handle it?"
Aunor thought for a moment. Hecate was right about the Guardians needing leadership in the Vanguard's absence. She remembered how the Hunters mostly went rogue after Cayde's death. With Ikora and Zavala both gone, there could be chaos. "I've got them covered. Just promise me you'll be safe, alright? You've got just one life left. And look out for Polaris too. You know him as well as I do- maybe better."
Hecate smirked. "What, still harboring some feelings for him? You broke up like a year ago."
"It's not that." Aunor rolled her eyes. "You know how he can get sometimes when there's a big conflict. All self-sacrificial and whatnot. Don't let him do something stupid."
"I won't. Promise."
"Good." Aunor fist-bumped Hecate. "Good luck in there. Show the Witness what the Guardians are made of, yeah?"
Somewhere in North America
Nemea stood before Ayane Takanome's unmarked grave, dozens of familiar blue flowers planted around the forest clearing. "Hi, Ayane," he began. "I know I'm a little early this year. Just wanted to visit in case things go badly. Long story short, I'm going into the Traveler soon. I don't know what'll happen in there or what's waiting on the other side, but I know there's a good chance someone doesn't come back from this. So I just wanted to tell you what I should've while you were still alive." Nemea took a deep breath. "I love you, Ayane. Really. I wish you'd been chosen by a Ghost. I kept wondering every year if I'd come and find this place dug up, or something. But it never happened, even though nobody is more worthy of the Light than you. People still follow your Rangers' roads to the City, y'know. And these flowers still grow. I guess I should go start prepping for the journey, but. If I never come back here again, well... guess that means I'll see you around, Ayane."
The Last City
Zavala, Ikora Rey, Polaris, Hecate, and Nemea gathered in the Commander's office. "You all know what's coming," Zavala began. "Osiris and the Queen are close to opening the way into the Traveler. Osiris and Saint-14 have volunteered to keep watch over the City while we are away. Lord Shaxx will aid them."
"Mithrax and Caiatl are on standby, ready to follow us through the portal if we call upon them and their forces," Ikora added. "Fireteam Apex, anything to add?"
"Well, as I told you two already, Hecate and Nemea will be joining us in the Traveler," Polaris said, crossing his arms. "We'll need them if we want to stand up to the Witness and whatever else is waiting for us in there."
"So, we'll be a five-man fireteam, then?" Zavala looked at his team. "Very well."
"Six if you count Crow," Polaris reminded him. "First thing we do once we get in there should be to make contact and rendezvous with him."
"Agreed." Ikora looked at the trio of Guardians standing across from she and Zavala. "As I'm sure you're aware, there is a very real possibility of any of us dying our final deaths in this mission. If any of you aren't prepared to face that possibility, there's no shame in backing out. You'll be just as valued as a defender outside the Traveler as you would be within."
"Ikora, with all due respect, screw that," Hecate countered. "We've discussed this already. We know the risk. Polaris even tried to talk Nemea and I into staying in the City. We're as ready for whatever comes as you are."
"That's right." Nemea nodded. "And I can think of no better fight to die in than fighting for the entire universe."
Zavala couldn't help but smile. He remembered the first time this trio had united in the Taken War, nine years prior. How awkward and unsure of one another they'd been. He remembered meeting Nemea under the Traveler before the City was anything more than a collection of tents and huts. He remembered the Battle of Twilight Gap, where Hecate proved her devotion to the people of Sol on her very first day in the City, fighting alongside Lord Shaxx's fireteam and disobeying Lord Saladin's orders. He remembered Polaris wandering into the Hall of Guardians in the old Tower, freshly risen, confused, and overwhelmed by the world he'd found himself in. They'd all grown so much over their years, as individuals and as a team. There were few Guardians that could call themselves legends, but these three were among their ranks without question.
"Everything alright, Zavala?" Polaris asked, watching the Commander's gaze become unfocused as he smiled at Fireteam Apex.
"Yes. I'm alright," Zavala assured them. "Just know that I couldn't be more proud of the heroes you've all become. Now then." His smile dropped. He was all business once more. "We could get the call to depart from the Queen at any moment. Make whatever preparations you need, and stay on alert."
Polaris nodded. "Yes, sir."
"Very well. Dismissed."
Fireteam Apex left the office together in silence, each member of the trio mentally preparing for the coming battle.
oh my god it's so good to be back. i missed writing stories like this. i really hope TFS ends up being good with how excited i am. at any rate, thank you for reading my re-debut story. I hope you liked it. See you in the Pale Heart, Guardians.
~ P.

Hi all! I'm the one who talked about choosing GWU over University of Washington, University of Wisconsin-Madison, and Pitt. I'm deciding on the last min because the financial package of GWU came out yesterday.
I believe that attending GWU will give me better career opportunities after the graduation. Before my final decision, I would like confirm with GWU students if my expectations about the school are accurate and if I can achieve what I want at GWU.
Also, please lmk if Uniersity of Washington (UW) could give similar or better on the things that I'm looking for on GWU.
1.Financial Considerations - GWU: For 2024-2025, I received $63k in need-based grant aid and $3k in scholarships, leaving a net cost of $23k. However, due to changes in my parents' income, aid might decrease next year, potentially raising the net cost to max $48k(according to npc). Over 4 years, this could total around $168k if I stay in dorms all 4 years. Is the price of housing and meal similar even if I get to not live in dorms? Also, do you have any assumption or thoughts about financial aid from second year? - UW: Out-of-state tuition is unaffordable, but I could obtain in-state residency after living and working (no schooling) at Washington stare for a year. A year off after an term in UW and paper works! 4 yrs total tuition will be $72k. Including housing and meals, the total could be $144k.
2.Major - I'm accepted into the College of Arts and Sciences at both schools. I was thinking of majoring sociology but I got to know that it would be better to political science - public policy concentration major at GWU.
3.‼️Personal Fit and Environment‼️ - I believe GWU offers a culture of activism that aligns with my background in youth councils and proposing policies, collaborating with civic group activities in South Korea. GWU’s location in D.C. provides opportunities for internships and networking in think tanks and international organizations, which could be beneficial for my career. - I am good at adapting to new environments. I believe D.C. offers a dynamic environment with opportunities for impactful work and connections. I don't have connections in US and having GWU students/alumni as my network might be better for me than having a network with UW students/alumni. - GWU’s smaller classes and close-knit community might allow for better relationships with professors and peers, which could be advantageous given my ability to connect with teachers and mentors.
4.Support for ADHD - I was diagnosed with ADHD last year and am curious about the support available at GWU. I managed without much support so far, but effective resources and tips could be beneficial.
5.Things that UW might give - Choosing GWU means missing out on UW’s campus life, reputation, and resources. UW has studies and courses in different topics like disability studies, psychology, and public health, which align with my interests in mental health policy. Being in big state university will allow me to learn about various area and learn broader. - Staying in Seattle would allow me to maintain connections in the Vancouver area. I spent my past 2.5 year at sub urban vancouver of Canada.

1. Long-term Considerations
   • I might to return to Korea eventually, where school ranking is significant. However, work experience at renowned institutions could offset this.

Do you think GWU is a good fit for me? I would love to hear from GWU alumnus and current students whether GWU would give the things that I am looking forward.
Also please feel free to give me any other advice or insights!
Thank you so much!!!

We have been dating for 3 years. I (24m) have bad self-esteem. I barely can convince myself my girlfriend (21f) likes me. I have a lot to work on. That being said, a good chunk of the things my GF calls me out for doesn't exist, in my honest opinion. She appears to see a version of me I didn't know existed, with traits I don't think I have.
Examples:

1. She calls me a really bad sore loser. Now, I will focus on pool (8-ball) here because I play with her loads. I commend her amazing shots, praise her skills (she's better than me at pool) and congratulate her wins. I am a sore loser because I always want another game when I lose. I don't pressure (to my knowledge) but I always want to play again if I lose. That is her reasoning for me being a sore loser, and I pride myself on being able to acknowledge my opponent's skill when I lose and take responsibility for the loss.
2. I am inconsiderate. I don't recall details very well, and have a hard time keeping memory straight. I will jumble or switch details around. For example, my girlfriend might tell me she is working 8-4 tomorrow and 7-3 the next day. I will say to her "good luck for the 7-3 tomorrow" and she will get annoyed at me for not paying attention or listening (I am hard of hearing, completely deaf in one ear, mildly in another).
3. It is my fault that I don't hear her. Keep in mind, I don't wear my hearing aids around her because I hate wearing them. I detest my voice with hearing aids in and it makes me not want to talk. I hear too much and it overwhelms me, and you cannot cuddle with hearing aids on because they emit high-pitch squealing from the feedback & are just awkward in close contact. So I don't wear them around her (or any social occasion) because I am very good at managing to follow a conversation despite my disability (a lot of people don't believe I am hard of hearing after interacting with me). If I ask her to repeat or if I mishear what she wanted me to fetch, for example, and get something else, she will get annoyed. Visibly. And it's my fault. I don't want to wear hearing aids during my downtime/personal time. And much of that is spent with my girlfriend
4. We play videogames together and when I fumble or repeatedly fail at a sequence, she gets visibly annoyed. The other night, I kept failing to complete a time-trial task in a game and each fail would make her more irate and stupefied at my stupidity (She genuinely thinks I'm slow. I know I'm not but am very susceptible to the opinions of people whom I hold in high esteem). Note her getting visibly annoyed at me for something that I perceive as not warranting such a response makes me sad and moody (This IS a fault of mine, because I need to react better to people admonishing me, it is a bona fide toxic trait of mine)

I will leave it here because I don't want to lob a wall of text at you all. But basically, I think my girlfriend sees a completely different person to what/who I think I am
Is it possible I am just an a$$hole that can't see how annoying I am? How do I approach this and bring it up to her without her throwing it back at me in annoyance? I cannot argue. I cannot even hold a train of thought when someone is visibly annoyed at me
TL/DR girlfriend will get very annoyed at me for what I consider to be innocuous personality traits or otherwise harmless faults of mine, and will conjure a caricature of myself that she thinks reality. How do I bring this up to someone that appears to look around me and not at me?
EDIT: To add to the hearing loss topic: she doesn't adjust her habits of talking to maximise what I will hear. What I mean by this is facing me with an uncovered mouth so I can lipread, and have her voice projected in my direction. When I ask to repeat what she said, she most often does it in an annoyed tone much faster than initially. So naturally I don't hear it. Then she yells whatever it was she said. This isn't a building-up of anger, this is something I've had an issue with from the start of the relationship, I just don't bring it up anymore because nothing changes. I could very well be in the wrong for not wearing my hearing aids, but I vehemently don't want to wear them. I much much prefer not wearing them.

Lifelong hearing impairment. For a number of reasons, my tinnitus recently has skyrocketed. I'm talking...I hear it all the time, even over my hearing aid, and when I take my hearing aid out, I hear the whole city...tea kettles, tornado sirens, rockets about to take off. It's nearly driven me mad lately. But I'm going all in with mindfulness and it seems to be helping. Slowly but surely. I'm directly getting "into the sound" of the tinnitus with my awareness. Eventually my mind sort of gets "used" to it and the anxiety subsides. But it's such a bitch regardless. Not easy at all. Stay strong.

Trigger Warning: This script contains mentions of self harm and suicidal ideation.
This script holds a special time that occurred years ago, meaning yes, it is a true story. I had a friend who dealt with abusive parents, as such he went as far as to even move to my house to get away with them. Sure, we weren't dating at the time, but we were close with one another (and kinda acted like we did). Even though he no longer lives with me, we still keep in touch. When writing this script, I ended up getting emotional and nearly teared up, but I got through to finishing it. Also yes, this is in line with the story involving the first few of my scripts.
As always, go ahead if you would like to use this monetization-free script under crediting my YT Handle @"AkitaScripts".
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Synopsis: You and your girlfriend have been together for about a month, yet she has never visited your house nor has she ever met your parents. One night, she gets an unexpected visit from you. When asked about what’s wrong, you shrug it off and refuse to look at her. She begins to worry, and worries even more about the truth you’ve hid in your house…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(It’s a rainy night. The stars are covered by the dark clouds. Your girlfriend, the VA, is in her room, listening and humming to one of her playlists, studying for the next test. She barely hears the door open, and a faint voice calls out for her.)
VA: (hums along to one of the songs in the playlist, unaware of whoever was calling her downstairs)
(Suddenly, the door unlocks and opens, and you walk in, holding two backpacks on your back and a pile of clothes, damp from the rain, covering a majority of your face except for your eyes, as if you were crying minutes earlier.)
VA: (turns around) Chloe, I’ve told you so many times- oh hey, babe! (takes off her headphones) Here, lemme help you with that.
(The VA gets up in an attempt to help hold your pile of clothes, but you turn around.)
VA: Hey… oh, do you… need to take the bookbags off?
[muffled pause]
VA: What?
[pause]
VA: Oh okay… (helps you take one of the bookbags off) Why did you bring two? You only carry one around at school...
(You don’t respond, and just take the other, putting it somewhere in her room)
VA: (places your other bookbag near it) Babe?
[pause]
VA: Are you okay..?
[pause]
VA: You can put your clothes on my bed… but stop dodging my question. Are you okay-
[pause]
VA: Okay, geez… sorry for upsetting you.
(You drop your clothes on the VA’s bed, and sit down next to the pile. The VA closes her bedroom door)
VA: (sits down next to you) Is everything alright…? You’ve never acted like this before.
[pause]
VA: Grumpy mood, I guess? Here, hold still, lemme ki- (attempts to lean in to kiss you, but you turn your head away)
VA: (gasps) Did you just… reject a kiss from me?!
[pause]
VA: You’re not mad at me, are you?
[pause]
VA: Then if you’re not mad at me, what’s wrong?
(Silence.)
VA: (moves closer to you) Can I at least hug you?
(You shrug your shoulders.)
VA: Is that a yes or a no? I can’t read shoulders unless they have angels and devils on them.
(You don’t say anything.)
VA: I’ll… take that as a no. Do you want me to get you anything downstairs? Food? Water? Maybe some popcorn so we can watch a movie?
(You shake your head from side to side, signaling a no.)
VA: Do you want me to go back to work? I do have this test to study for...
[quiet pause]
VA: Babe, speak up.
[pause]
VA: Well, if you don’t want anything to eat or drink, and you don’t want me to go back to studying… then what do you want me to do?
[pause]
VA: You want me to stay here with you?
[pause]
VA: Hey. (reaches and holds your hand) Look at me.
(You refuse to look at her.)
VA: Babe. Look at me, I’m talking to you.
(You look away from her.)
VA: Babe..? (leans in closer to wrap her arms around you)
(While still looking away, you try to flip over one of your shirts in the pile to hide something… red.)
VA: Hey… what was that?
[pause]
VA: What do you mean “nothing”? Something was clearly in the pile.
[pause]
VA: No, that did not look like a bug. (reaches and leans over to grab the top shirt from the pile) Lemme see-
(You try to move the pile away, but she grabs the top shirt from it)
VA: Hey… don’t try to move it. (sits back down and unfolds the shirt) Hm, it’s all damp from the rain, and there’s… (stops and looks at the red smudge on the shirt)
VA: (turns to look at you, while you’re still looking away) Babe… What is this?
[pause]
VA: Stop lying to me, this is not ketchup. It doesn’t even look like it… (looks closer, and catches a strange smell from the stain) It smells… off..
(You continue to look away from her, not saying anything.)
VA: Babe… is this… Is this blood?
[pause]
VA: What do you mean, you fell down? How did you… when did… (turns to you) Look at me.
(You refuse to look at her)
VA: Babe… please, just…
(The VA turns your head to face her, yet you refuse to fight back. The VA just stares at you, speechless, seeing the red cut on the side of your face.)
VA: Babe… (gently combs the side of your hair) What… What happened?
[pause]
VA: Babe, your “falling down” excuse isn’t gonna work again, tell me the truth. What the hell happened?
[pause]
VA: (speechless) W-What?! You… you got cut..?!
[pause]
VA: Babe… how… who… why… Are.. are you still bleeding..?
[pause]
VA: Are you injured anywhere else..?
(You roll up your sleeve to reveal a massive bruise on your arm)
VA: (drops her jaw in shock) Oh my gosh.. Okay… (gets up) Stay here, I’m getting a first aid kit! (rushes out the door) And don’t do anything while I’m not in the room!
(You overhear the VA talking downstairs)
VA: (faint) No Chloe, he’s not fine! Where’s the first aid kit?!
VA: (faint) Yes, I can take care of him! I know what I’m doing! I don’t need you to do it! You’ve already done your job for years, so I can handle it!
(footsteps approach the door, and the VA steps back in)VA: (under her breath) Gosh, I just wish she would leave the house…
[pause]
VA: (talks to you) Yeah, I got the first aid kit.. Here, hold still.
(The VA begins to clean off the blood from your face, but you flinch away)
VA: Hey, stop flinching, babe! I know it stings, but it’s not gonna hurt as much.
[pause]
VA: I can’t just put a Band-Aid on it and call it a night. I have to apply iodine onto the wound and clean it before it causes an infection. (wipes off the blood) There… Now I can apply the Band-Aid. (unwraps a Band-Aid from a small box)
(You give her a weird look from the type of Band-Aid)
VA: What? (looks at the Band-Aid) Oh, it’s a Disney princess one. Yeah sorry, it’s the only one in the box.
[pause]
VA: You’re not gonna look stupid! No one’s gonna look at you! And plus, it’s not like I’m gonna post a photo of me patching up my favorite boyfriend! (playfully pokes your nose)
(You give her a stern look)
VA: Okay, I’ll shut up! But I promise, it’s not that bad! (gently applies the Band-Aid onto your face) There! Wasn’t that bad?
[pause]
VA: Don’t worry… it’ll be better by tomorrow… now for the bruise on your arm. Just… um… (blushes)
[pause]
VA: No, you don’t have to take off your shirt, but… if you want to…
(You unhesitantly try to take off your shirt, but your arm still hurts)
VA: Okay.. you’re actually doing it… um… do you… Do you need me to help you?
[pause]
VA: Sure, here… sorry if I… gosh, I’m sorry, I’m having intrusive thoughts right now.
(The VA helps you take off your shirt, exposing the bruise and revealing another on your back)
VA: Oh my… (speechless) I thought it was just on the arm, but no, it’s on your back too?!
[pause]
VA: Okay… be right back, Imma get some ice..! (leaves the room)
(Once again, you overhear the VA talk downstairs)
VA: (faint) Chloe, stop asking if he looks hot without his shirt on! He’s my boyfriend!! Stop messing with me about it! Just… where’s the ice?!
VA: Yes, I know it’s in the freezer, smarty pants!
(You hear her footsteps approach the door, and she walks out. When she sees you, the VA starts blushing again.)
[pause]
VA: Yeah, I’m fine… I’ve just… I’ve never seen you shirtless before… Anyways, here’s the ice. (gives you a bag of ice) Apply that onto your arm, and I’ll put this onto your back.
(The VA sits down behind you, and helps put ice to cool down the bruise on your back)
VA: So… do you… Are you okay with telling me what happened..? Because you weren’t like this earlier at school today.
[pause]
VA: It’s something you’ve never told me..?
[pause]
VA: Your… parents?
[long pause]
VA: (listens) Wait.. really?! They… they hurt you?!
[pause]
VA: Is it your mother or father that does it?
[pause]
VA: Both?!
[pause]
VA: And… How often do they do this..?
[pause]
VA: They hurt you almost every week?
[pause]
VA: Okay, emotionally, I understand, but… have they ever… physically… hurt you? Like with what’s happened tonight?
[pause]
VA: Sometimes?
[pause]
VA: When… When was the last time they’ve physically hurt you like this..?
[pause]
VA: Wait.. (puts down her bag of ice) 6 months ago?!
[pause]
VA: That’s… Isn’t that when we first met?!
[pause]
VA: Wait, so lemme guess… you were out of your house… all because you didn’t feel safe in there with your parents?
[pause]
VA: Oh my… oh my gosh… (in a sorrowful voice) I… I didn’t think… that’s how you felt back then… (looks at you) Why… Why didn’t you tell me about this..?
[pause]
VA: You didn’t want me to get involved..?
[pause]
VA: Well babe… I don’t care if I get hurt in the crossfire… I just… I want you to be okay…
(You slowly start crying)
VA: Hey, hey… (wraps her arms around you, and kisses your cheek) It’s okay, babe… It’s okay… (continues to kiss you and play with your hair to calm you down, whispering to you in a soft voice) It’s okay… I’m here for you… I’m here…
[pause]
VA: I’m sorry they had to hurt you like this… beating you up, yelling at you, cutting your face-
[pause]
VA: They… they didn’t cut your face..?
[pause]
VA: Wait.. (holds your hands, shocked) You tried to cut yourself..?!?!
(You don’t say anything, but you turn around to hug her, nudging your head into her chest)
VA: Hey, look at me babe.
[pause]
VA: No, I’m not mad at you, babe. Just look at me.
(You look up at her)
VA: (gently rests her hand on your cheek) Please… (a tear rolls down her eye) Don’t you ever try to hurt yourself like this… I don’t care that you almost tried to harm yourself, or hell, even fucking kill yourself-
[pause]
VA: Still, don’t you dare do this shit, babe.. I’m serious. Look, if you actually went and ended it all… I… (hesitates) I don’t even want to think about it… I can’t even think about living forward without you.
[pause]
VA: Okay, first of all, Chloe and I are not related, hence we’re not sisters, and second, living in a-
[pause]
VA: Wait, you didn’t know? I thought Chloe told you.
[pause]
VA: Okay… um… how do I explain this..? (breathes in and out) Chloe is… my caretaker. Or… guardian.
[pause]
VA: No, I don’t have parents.
[pause]
VA: They… (sighs) I don’t usually like talking about it, but… I’m willing to tell you.
[pause]
VA: For starters… My father abandoned me, and my mother passed away when I was just born, so I was adopted by someone. He was… really uncaring… he wouldn’t even take care of me, and would always just yell at me… Chloe, on the other hand… she raised me like she was a mother, but she wasn’t legally my mother, nor did she want to be an actual one… so she legally became my guardian.
[pause]
VA: It’s fine… I just… I miss my mother. I always visit her grave on my birthday, and it’s really the only memorable thing I do on that day.
(You wrap your arm around her waist, and lean in to kiss her)
VA: (sheepishly smiles) Thanks babe… (rests her head onto your heart) Hey.. I forgot about the ice… it’s melted by now… (raises her head back up) Are you still hurt from your arm and back?
[pause]
VA: Alright… you can… put a shirt back on.
(You reach over to grab a new clean shirt to wear, and you put it on, with the VA helping you a bit)
[pause]
VA: You’re welcome, babe.
[pause]
VA: Yeah… What is it?
[pause]
VA: Y’know… I actually haven’t thought about that… I’ve always wanted real parents, and you… never told me.
[pause]
VA: You’ve always wanted siblings..? Wait, you’re an only child?
[pause]
VA: True… you’ve never told me you had a brother or sister… and neither did I… but I guess Chloe’s kinda like my sister.
[pause]
VA: You… consider me… to be your “sister”..?
[pause]
VA: I do act like it, but… (smiles) I’m happy to be your “sister”... bro.
(You chuckle, playfully punching the VA’s shoulder)
VA: Hey..!! Okay, I swear, I won’t ever call you “bro”..
[pause]
VA: (leans in to kiss you) Deal. (smiles, and lays down on your lap, looking up at you) But seriously… no matter if we were related or dating or just friends… I will still, and always, will love you. (gently holds your hand, prompting you to play with her hair) And look… if you need any help from anything… from school, to your abusive parents, to even annoying Chloe…
[pause]
VA: Yes, I annoy Chloe too sometimes, but I still love her. Anyways, like I said, if you need help from me to destress, or if you just want to lay down with me for another sleepover date, I’m perfectly fine with it.. I’ll be here for you if you break down or cry, and I’ll be here to pick you back up, hold your hand, and walk down a rainy road with you. I’ll always be by your side, babe. I’m not just doing it to make sure you’re safe… (wraps her arms around your waist) I’m doing it for you… and it’s because I love you. And I will not stop saying it.
[pause]
VA: (smiles, and gets up to lean into you) You’re not just my boyfriend… you’re with Chloe as part of my family… (reaches out to play with your hair) But please babe… don’t ever try to hurt yourself ever again… okay..? That worries me a lot, so please… don’t ever try to scare me like that.
[pause]
VA: Good… I don’t want to lose you…
(You pick her up, surprising her)
VA: Woah, hey..!! (laughs) Let go of me!!
(You let her go, but she falls on top of you, with the two of you landing on her bed)
VA: (smiles and laughs) You okay..? I didn't accidentally land on and hurt your arm, did I?[pause]
VA: Okay, okay, that’s good… (spreads out her arms above your head)
(The two of you lean into each other to kiss)
VA: Hm? (looks at you)
[pause]
VA: (smiles, and leans in to whisper) I love you, too. (gives you another kiss)
THE END.

I m facing an issue I can't control the call volume it's always on high no matter I m on speaker or calling from earpiece. I have turned on the hearing aid from the phone settings but same issue only. But I Can control the media volume. Can anyone help me to resolve this issue.

September 26, 2072 - Houston, Texas
The President of The Republic of Houston, Alex Jones awoke as the sun rose above the capitol of his Republic. His Presidential Palace the former Museum of Fine Arts, Houston, converted into a Presidential Residence in 2034 also rose to greet him. In the grand dining room built to the President's specifications, he was served his coffee and breakfast. And as he always did, Alex Jones perused the headlines around the world, offering bits of commentary that those around could hear, but which they were forbidden to respond to. The submission of Christian lands to the Eden behemoth? "Fuckin, moloch worshippers" the President grimaced. The Second Roman Republic marching in step and speaking classical Latin? "Fuckin queers". Or Canada merely existing in the North? "Jesus Christ Trump should have invaded them when he had the chance". This routine was familiar, indeed for 52 years aide after aide, servant after servant, guard after guard heard the President make similar observations. As the world changed around him, Alex Jones read that the world did not change a bit. This morning however would be different, fate had ordained it to be so.
Mike Lindell the former CEO of My Pillow was the President's choice for Vice President in 2021. Lindell was in many ways the perfect lieutenant to Jones, he shared the President's love of showmanship and bravado, but he lacked the command and decisiveness the President possessed. For that reason he was ideal, he could sing the praises of the regime wherever the President could not be, all without challenging the authority of the President. And so for 51 years, Lindell stood by the side of Alex Jones, unquestionably loyal unquestionably obedient, doing the President's bidding wherever he was sent.
Much like the President, Lindell was given age-lengthening treatments that staved off the effects of aging. But while the President lived a strictly regimented life, Lindell throughout the 2050s fell back into the life of substance abuse that plagued him in the 20th century. The President of course noticed this but did not care, for him, Lindell could smoke as much crack as he wanted so long as when he put the pipe down the first words he spoke were "God I love President Jones!". And because of this the Vice President slowly entered a downward spiral with no end in sight. In 2066 at the graduation of Houstonian Naval Cadets, the VP slurred his words as he tried to get through a short prepared speech. In 2069 during the Presidential Campaign and the VP debate, Lindell seemingly forgot who and where he was and asked his opponent "When does happy hour start?" Houstonian media of course covered this up, but rumours cannot be suppressed and word of mouth did its job.
That is why on September 26, 2072, President Jones did not show much concern when an aide told him "The Vice President was found unresponsive on the floor of his residence". That was merely part of the deal, that was what was expected. This also meant when he was told that his lieutenant was on life support the President merely scoffed and said "fuckin' Mike". That is why at 1:56 pm on that day came and when the President was told his faithful VP had died, he could not believe it.
September 27, 2072 - Houston
A STATEMENT FROM THE OFFICE OF THE PRESIDENT
It is with deep sorrow that the President announces the death of the Vice President of The Republic of Houston, the Honorable Michael James Lindell. The Vice President died peacefully last evening at his residence in Houston. The President asks the. nation for its prayers at this difficult time. Announcements regarding the state funeral of the Vice President will be made in due course.
October 3, 2072 - Houston
The day was rainy and gloomy. The ceremony over the last three days was dizzying and hurried for Alex Jones. From a laying in state that saw 2 million people file past the coffin of his Vice President, to a church service where even he was moved to tears. The man at the heart of the Republic of Houston was at his wit's end. The funeral events came to the coda, as the flag of Houston was lifted off the coffin, and the remains of the Vice President who served him loyally were lowered into the earth. As the golden casket slowly drifted down, so too did a single tear on the President's face. Mortality was on his mind, and so too was the future, Memento Mori...
December 12, 2072 - Houston
PRESIDENT JONES CALLS CONSTITUTIONAL CONVENTION
51 years after the establishment of Houston, President Jones this morning finally called a constitutional convention to establish the first constitution in the history of Houston...