Source: https://home.iitk.ac.in/~hcverma/Article/Macaulay-Minutes.pdf

As it seems to be the opinion of some of the gentlemen who compose the Committee of Public Instruction that the course which they have hitherto pursued was strictly prescribed by the British Parliament in 1813 and as, if that opinion be correct, a legislative act will be necessary to warrant a change, I have thought it right to refrain from taking any part in the preparation of the adverse statements which are now before us, and to reserve what I had to say on the subject till it should come before me as a Member of the Council of India.
It does not appear to me that the Act of Parliament can by any art of contraction be made to bear the meaning which has been assigned to it. It contains nothing about the particular languages or sciences which are to be studied. A sum is set apart "for the revival and promotion of literature, and the encouragement of the learned natives of India, and for the introduction and promotion of a knowledge of the sciences among the inhabitants of the British territories." It is argued, or rather taken for granted, that by literature the Parliament can have meant only Arabic and Sanscrit literature; that they never would have given the honourable appellation of "a learned native" to a native who was familiar with the poetry of Milton, the metaphysics of Locke, and the physics of Newton; but that they meant to designate by that name only such persons as might have studied in the sacred books of the Hindoos all the uses of cusa-grass, and all the mysteries of absorption into the Deity. This does not appear to be a very satisfactory interpretation. To take a parallel case: Suppose that the Pacha of Egypt, a country once superior in knowledge to the nations of Europe, but now sunk far below them, were to appropriate a sum for the purpose "of reviving and promoting literature, and encouraging learned natives of Egypt," would any body infer that he meant the youth of his Pachalik to give years to the study of hieroglyphics, to search into all the doctrines disguised under the fable of Osiris, and to ascertain with all possible accuracy the ritual with which cats and onions were anciently adored? Would he be justly charged with inconsistency if, instead of employing his young subjects in deciphering obelisks, he were to order them to be instructed in the English and French languages, and in all the sciences to which those languages are the chief keys?
The words on which the supporters of the old system rely do not bear them out, and other words follow which seem to be quite decisive on the other side. This lakh of rupees is set apart not only for "reviving literature in India," the phrase on which their whole interpretation is founded, but also "for the introduction and promotion of a knowledge of the sciences among the inhabitants of the British territories"-words which are alone sufficient to authorize all the changes for which I contend.
If the Council agree in my construction no legislative act will be necessary. If they differ from me, I will propose a short act rescinding that I clause of the Charter of 1813 from which the difficulty arises.
The argument which I have been considering affects only the form of proceeding. But the admirers of the oriental system of education have used another argument, which, if we admit it to be valid, is decisive against all change. They conceive that the public faith is pledged to the present system, and that to alter the appropriation of any of the funds which have hitherto been spent in encouraging the study of Arabic and Sanscrit would be downright spoliation. It is not easy to understand by what process of reasoning they can have arrived at this conclusion. The grants which are made from the public purse for the encouragement of literature differ in no respect from the grants which are made from the same purse for other objects of real or supposed utility. We found a sanitarium on a spot which we suppose to be healthy. Do we thereby pledge ourselves to keep a sanitarium there if the result should not answer our expectations? We commence the erection of a pier. Is it a violation of the public faith to stop the works, if we afterwards see reason to believe that the building will be useless? The rights of property are undoubtedly sacred. But nothing endangers those rights so much as the practice, now unhappily too common, of attributing them to things to which they do not belong. Those who would impart to abuses the sanctity of property are in truth imparting to the institution of property the unpopularity and the fragility of abuses. If the Government has given to any person a formal assurance-nay, if the Government has excited in any person's mind a reasonable expectation-that he shall receive a certain income as a teacher or a learner of Sanscrit or Arabic, I would respect that person's pecuniary interests. I would rather err on the side of liberality to individuals than suffer the public faith to be called in question. But to talk of a Government pledging itself to teach certain languages and certain sciences, though those languages may become useless, though those sciences may be exploded, seems to me quite unmeaning. There is not a single word in any public instrument from which it can be inferred that the Indian Government ever intended to give any pledge on this subject, or ever considered the destination of these funds as unalterably fixed. But, had it been otherwise, I should have denied the competence of our predecessors to bind us by any pledge on such a subject. Suppose that a Government had in the last century enacted in the most solemn manner that all its subjects should, to the end of time, be inoculated for the small-pox, would that Government be bound to persist in the practice after Jenner's discovery? These promises of which nobody claims the performance, and from which nobody can grant a release, these vested rights which vest in nobody, this property without proprietors, this robbery which makes nobody poorer, may be comprehended by persons of higher faculties than mine. I consider this plea merely as a set form of words, regularly used both in England and in India, in defence of every abuse for which no other plea can be set up.
I hold this lakh of rupees to be quite at the disposal of the Governor-General in Council for the purpose of promoting learning in India in any way which may be thought most advisable. I hold his Lordship to be quite as free to direct that it shall no longer be employed in encouraging Arabic and Sanscrit, as he is to direct that the reward for killing tigers in Mysore shall be diminished, or that no more public money shall be expended on the chaunting at the cathedral.
We now come to the gist of the matter. We have a fund to be employed as Government shall direct for the intellectual improvement of the people of this country. The simple question is, what is the most useful way of employing it?
All parties seem to be agreed on one point, that the dialects commonly spoken among the natives of this part of India contain neither literary nor scientific information, and are moreover so poor and rude that, until they are enriched from some other quarter, it will not be easy to translate any valuable work into them. It seems to be admitted on all sides, that the intellectual improvement of those classes of the people who have the means of pursuing higher studies can at present be affected only by means of some language not vernacular amongst them.
What then shall that language be? One-half of the committee maintain that it should be the English. The other half strongly recommend the Arabic and Sanscrit. The whole question seems to me to be-which language is the best worth knowing?
I have no knowledge of either Sanscrit or Arabic. But I have done what I could to form a correct estimate of their value. I have read translations of the most celebrated Arabic and Sanscrit works. I have conversed, both here and at home, with men distinguished by their proficiency in the Eastern tongues. I am quite ready to take the oriental learning at the valuation of the orientalists themselves. I have never found one among them who could deny that a single shelf of a good European library was worth the whole native literature of India and Arabia. The intrinsic superiority of the Western literature is indeed fully admitted by those members of the committee who support the oriental plan of education.
It will hardly be disputed, I suppose, that the department of literature in which the Eastern writers stand highest is poetry. And I certainly never met with any orientalist who ventured to maintain that the Arabic and Sanscrit poetry could be compared to that of the great European nations. But when we pass from works of imagination to works in which facts are recorded and general principles investigated, the superiority of the Europeans becomes absolutely immeasurable. It is, I believe, no exaggeration to say that all the historical information which has been collected from all the books written in the Sanscrit language is less valuable than what may be found in the most paltry abridgments used at preparatory schools in England. In every branch of physical or moral philosophy, the relative position of the two nations is nearly the same.
How then stands the case? We have to educate a people who cannot at present be educated by means of their mother-tongue. We must teach them some foreign language. The claims of our own language it is hardly necessary to recapitulate. It stands pre- eminent even among the languages of the West. It abounds with works of imagination not inferior to the noblest which Greece has bequeathed to us,-with models of every species of eloquence,-with historical composition, which, considered merely as narratives, have seldom been surpassed, and which, considered as vehicles of ethical and political instruction, have never been equaled-with just and lively representations of human life and human nature,-with the most profound speculations on metaphysics, morals, government, jurisprudence, trade,-with full and correct information respecting every experimental science which tends to preserve the health, to increase the comfort, or to expand the intellect of man. Whoever knows that language has ready access to all the vast intellectual wealth which all the wisest nations of the earth have created and hoarded in the course of ninety generations. It may safely be said that the literature now extant in
that language is of greater value than all the literature which three hundred years ago was extant in all the languages of the world together. Nor is this all. In India, English is the language spoken by the ruling class. It is spoken by the higher class of natives at the seats of Government. It is likely to become the language of commerce throughout the seas of the East. It is the language of two great European communities which are rising, the one in the south of Africa, the other in Australia,-communities which are every year becoming more important and more closely connected with our Indian empire. Whether we look at the intrinsic value of our literature, or at the particular situation of this country, we shall see the strongest reason to think that, of all foreign tongues, the English tongue is that which would be the most useful to our native subjects.
The question now before us is simply whether, when it is in our power to teach this language, we shall teach languages in which, by universal confession, there are no books on any subject which deserve to be compared to our own, whether, when we can teach European science, we shall teach systems which, by universal confession, wherever they differ from those of Europe differ for the worse, and whether, when we can patronize sound philosophy and true history, we shall countenance, at the public expense, medical doctrines which would disgrace an English farrier, astronomy which would move laughter in girls at an English boarding school, history abounding with kings thirty feet high and reigns thirty thousand years long, and geography made of seas of treacle and seas of butter.
We are not without experience to guide us. History furnishes several analogous cases, and they all teach the same lesson. There are, in modern times, to go no further, two memorable instances of a great impulse given to the mind of a whole society, of prejudices overthrown, of knowledge diffused, of taste purified, of arts and sciences planted in countries which had recently been ignorant and barbarous.
The first instance to which I refer is the great revival of letters among the Western nations at the close of the fifteenth and the beginning of the sixteenth century. At that time almost everything that was worth reading was contained in the writings of the ancient Greeks and Romans. Had our ancestors acted as the Committee of Public Instruction has hitherto noted, had they neglected the language of Thucydides and Plato, and the language of Cicero and Tacitus, had they confined their attention to the old dialects of our own island, had they printed nothing and taught nothing at the universities but chronicles in Anglo-Saxon and romances in Norman French,-would England ever have been what she now is? What the Greek and Latin were to the contemporaries of More and Ascham, our tongue is to the people of India. The literature of England is now more valuable than that of classical antiquity. I doubt whether the Sanscrit literature be as valuable as that of our Saxon and Norman progenitors. In some departments-in history for example-I am certain that it is much less so.
Another instance may be said to be still before our eyes. Within the last hundred and twenty years, a nation which had previously been in a state as barbarous as that in which our ancestors were before the Crusades has gradually emerged from the ignorance in which it was sunk, and has taken its place among civilized communities. I speak of Russia. There is now in that country a large educated class abounding with persons fit to
serve the State in the highest functions, and in nowise inferior to the most accomplished men who adorn the best circles of Paris and London. There is reason to hope that this vast empire which, in the time of our grandfathers, was probably behind the Punjab, may in the time of our grandchildren, be pressing close on France and Britain in the career of improvement. And how was this change effected? Not by flattering national prejudices; not by feeding the mind of the young Muscovite with the old women's stories which his rude fathers had believed; not by filling his head with lying legends about St. Nicholas; not by encouraging him to study the great question, whether the world was or not created on the 13th of September; not by calling him "a learned native" when he had mastered all these points of knowledge; but by teaching him those foreign languages in which the greatest mass of information had been laid up, and thus putting all that information within his reach. The languages of western Europe civilised Russia. I cannot doubt that they will do for the Hindoo what they have done for the Tartar.
And what are the arguments against that course which seems to be alike recommended by theory and by experience? It is said that we ought to secure the co- operation of the native public, and that we can do this only by teaching Sanscrit and Arabic.
I can by no means admit that, when a nation of high intellectual attainments undertakes to superintend the education of a nation comparatively ignorant, the learners are absolutely to prescribe the course which is to be taken by the teachers. It is not necessary however to say anything on this subject. For it is proved by unanswerable evidence, that we are not at present securing the co-operation of the natives. It would be bad enough to consult their intellectual taste at the expense of their intellectual health. But we are consulting neither. We are withholding from them the learning which is palatable to them. We are forcing on them the mock learning which they nauseate.
This is proved by the fact that we are forced to pay our Arabic and Sanscrit students while those who learn English are willing to pay us. All the declamations in the world about the love and reverence of the natives for their sacred dialects will never, in the mind of any impartial person, outweigh this undisputed fact, that we cannot find in all our vast empire a single student who will let us teach him those dialects, unless we will pay him.
I have now before me the accounts of the Mudrassa for one month, the month of December, 1833. The Arabic students appear to have been seventy-seven in number. All receive stipends from the public. The whole amount paid to them is above 500 rupees a month. On the other side of the account stands the following item:
Deduct amount realized from the out-students of English for the months of May, June, and July last-103 rupees.
I have been told that it is merely from want of local experience that I am surprised at these phenomena, and that it is not the fashion for students in India to study at their own charges. This only confirms me in my opinions. Nothing is more certain than that it never can in any part of the world be necessary to pay men for doing what they think pleasant
or profitable. India is no exception to this rule. The people of India do not require to be paid for eating rice when they are hungry, or for wearing woollen cloth in the cold season. To come nearer to the case before us:-The children who learn their letters and a little elementary arithmetic from the village schoolmaster are not paid by him. He is paid for teaching them. Why then is it necessary to pay people to learn Sanscrit and Arabic? Evidently because it is universally felt that the Sanscrit and Arabic are languages the knowledge of which does not compensate for the trouble of acquiring them. On all such subjects the state of the market is the detective test.
Other evidence is not wanting, if other evidence were required. A petition was presented last year to the committee by several ex-students of the Sanscrit College. The petitioners stated that they had studied in the college ten or twelve years, that they had made themselves acquainted with Hindoo literature and science, that they had received certificates of proficiency. And what is the fruit of all this? "Notwithstanding such testimonials," they say, "we have but little prospect of bettering our condition without the kind assistance of your honourable committee, the indifference with which we are generally looked upon by our countrymen leaving no hope of encouragement and assistance from them." They therefore beg that they may be recommended to the Governor-General for places under the Government-not places of high dignity or emolument, but such as may just enable them to exist. "We want means," they say, "for a decent living, and for our progressive improvement, which, however, we cannot obtain without the assistance of Government, by whom we have been educated and maintained from childhood." They conclude by representing very pathetically that they are sure that it was never the intention of Government, after behaving so liberally to them during their education, to abandon them to destitution and neglect.
I have been used to see petitions to Government for compensation. All those petitions, even the most unreasonable of them, proceeded on the supposition that some loss had been sustained, that some wrong had been inflicted. These are surely the first petitioners who ever demanded compensation for having been educated gratis, for having been supported by the public during twelve years, and then sent forth into the world well furnished with literature and science. They represent their education as an injury which gives them a claim on the Government for redress, as an injury for which the stipends paid to them during the infliction were a very inadequate compensation. And I doubt not that they are in the right. They have wasted the best years of life in learning what procures for them neither bread nor respect. Surely we might with advantage have saved the cost of making these persons useless and miserable. Surely, men may be brought up to be burdens to the public and objects of contempt to their neighbours at a somewhat smaller charge to the State. But such is our policy. We do not even stand neuter in the contest between truth and falsehood. We are not content to leave the natives to the influence of their own hereditary prejudices. To the natural difficulties which obstruct the progress of sound science in the East, we add great difficulties of our own making. Bounties and premiums, such as ought not to be given even for the propagation of truth, we lavish on false texts and false philosophy.
By acting thus we create the very evil which we fear. We are making that opposition which we do not find. What we spend on the Arabic and Sanscrit Colleges is not merely a
dead loss to the cause of truth. It is bounty-money paid to raise up champions of error. It goes to form a nest not merely of helpless placehunters but of bigots prompted alike by passion and by interest to raise a cry against every useful scheme of education. If there should be any opposition among the natives to the change which I recommend, that opposition will be the effect of our own system. It will be headed by persons supported by our stipends and trained in our colleges. The longer we persevere in our present course, the more formidable will that opposition be. It will be every year reinforced by recruits whom we are paying. From the native society, left to itself, we have no difficulties to apprehend. All the murmuring will come from that oriental interest which we have, by artificial means, called into being and nursed into strength.
There is yet another fact which is alone sufficient to prove that the feeling of the native public, when left to itself, is not such as the supporters of the old system represent it to be. The committee have thought fit to lay out above a lakh of rupees in printing Arabic and Sanscrit books. Those books find no purchasers. It is very rarely that a single copy is disposed of. Twenty-three thousand volumes, most of them folios and quartos, fill the libraries or rather the lumber-rooms of this body. The committee contrive to get rid of some portion of their vast stock of oriental literature by giving books away. But they cannot give so fast as they print. About twenty thousand rupees a year are spent in adding fresh masses of waste paper to a hoard which, one should think, is already sufficiently ample. During the last three years about sixty thousand rupees have been expended in this manner. The sale of Arabic and Sanscrit books during those three years has not yielded quite one thousand rupees. In the meantime, the School Book Society is selling seven or eight thousand English volumes every year, and not only pays the expenses of printing but realizes a profit of twenty per cent. on its outlay.
The fact that the Hindoo law is to be learned chiefly from Sanscrit books, and the Mahometan law from Arabic books, has been much insisted on, but seems not to bear at all on the question. We are commanded by Parliament to ascertain and digest the laws of India. The assistance of a Law Commission has been given to us for that purpose. As soon as the Code is promulgated the Shasters and the Hedaya will be useless to a moonsiff or a Sudder Ameen. I hope and trust that, before the boys who are now entering at the Mudrassa and the Sanscrit College have completed their studies, this great work will be finished. It would be manifestly absurd to educate the rising generation with a view to a state of things which we mean to alter before they reach manhood.
But there is yet another argument which seems even more untenable. It is said that the Sanscrit and the Arabic are the languages in which the sacred books of a hundred millions of people are written, and that they are on that account entitled to peculiar encouragement. Assuredly it is the duty of the British Government in India to be not only tolerant but neutral on all religious questions. But to encourage the study of a literature, admitted to be of small intrinsic value, only because that literature inculcated the most serious errors on the most important subjects, is a course hardly reconcilable with reason, with morality, or even with that very neutrality which ought, as we all agree, to be sacredly preserved. It is confined that a language is barren of useful knowledge. We are to teach it because it is fruitful of monstrous superstitions. We are to teach false history, false astronomy, false medicine, because we find them in company with a false religion.
We abstain, and I trust shall always abstain, from giving any public encouragement to those who are engaged in the work of converting the natives to Christianity. And while we act thus, can we reasonably or decently bribe men, out of the revenues of the State, to waste their youth in learning how they are to purify themselves after touching an ass or what texts of the Vedas they are to repeat to expiate the crime of killing a goat?
It is taken for granted by the advocates of oriental learning that no native of this country can possibly attain more than a mere smattering of English. They do not attempt to prove this. But they perpetually insinuate it. They designate the education which their opponents recommend as a mere spelling-book education. They assume it as undeniable that the question is between a profound knowledge of Hindoo and Arabian literature and science on the one side, and superficial knowledge of the rudiments of English on the other. This is not merely an assumption, but an assumption contrary to all reason and experience. We know that foreigners of all nations do learn our language sufficiently to have access to all the most abstruse knowledge which it contains sufficiently to relish even the more delicate graces of our most idiomatic writers. There are in this very town natives who are quite competent to discuss political or scientific questions with fluency and precision in the English language. I have heard the very question on which I am now writing discussed by native gentlemen with a liberality and an intelligence which would do credit to any member of the Committee of Public Instruction. Indeed it is unusual to find, even in the literary circles of the Continent, any foreigner who can express himself in English with so much facility and correctness as we find in many Hindoos. Nobody, I suppose, will contend that English is so difficult to a Hindoo as Greek to an Englishman. Yet an intelligent English youth, in a much smaller number of years than our unfortunate pupils pass at the Sanscrit College, becomes able to read, to enjoy, and even to imitate not unhappily the compositions of the best Greek authors. Less than half the time which enables an English youth to read Herodotus and Sophocles ought to enable a Hindoo to read Hume and Milton.
To sum up what I have said. I think it clear that we are not fettered by the Act of Parliament of 1813, that we are not fettered by any pledge expressed or implied, that we are free to employ our funds as we choose, that we ought to employ them in teaching what is best worth knowing, that English is better worth knowing than Sanscrit or Arabic, that the natives are desirous to be taught English, and are not desirous to be taught Sanscrit or Arabic, that neither as the languages of law nor as the languages of religion have the Sanscrit and Arabic any peculiar claim to our encouragement, that it is possible to make natives of this country thoroughly good English scholars, and that to this end our efforts ought to be directed.
In one point I fully agree with the gentlemen to whose general views I am opposed. I feel with them that it is impossible for us, with our limited means, to attempt to educate the body of the people. We must at present do our best to form a class who may be interpreters between us and the millions whom we govern, -a class of persons Indian in blood and colour, but English in tastes, in opinions, in morals and in intellect. To that class we may leave it to refine the vernacular dialects of the country, to enrich those dialects with terms of science borrowed from the Western nomenclature, and to render
them by degrees fit vehicles for conveying knowledge to the great mass of the population.
I would strictly respect all existing interests. I would deal even generously with all individuals who have had fair reason to expect a pecuniary provision. But I would strike at the root of the bad system which has hitherto been fostered by us. I would at once stop the printing of Arabic and Sanscrit books. I would abolish the Mudrassa and the Sanscrit College at Calcutta. Benares is the great seat of Brahminical learning; Delhi of Arabic learning. If we retain the Sanscrit College at Bonares and the Mahometan College at Delhi we do enough and much more than enough in my opinion, for the Eastern languages. If the Benares and Delhi Colleges should be retained, I would at least recommend that no stipends shall be given to any students who may hereafter repair thither, but that the people shall be left to make their own choice between the rival systems of education without being bribed by us to learn what they have no desire to know. The funds which would thus be placed at our disposal would enable us to give larger encouragement to the Hindoo College at Calcutta, and establish in the principal cities throughout the Presidencies of Fort William and Agra schools in which the English language might be well and thoroughly taught.
If the decision of His Lordship in Council should be such as I anticipate, I shall enter on the performance of my duties with the greatest zeal and alacrity. If, on the other hand, it be the opinion of the Government that the present system ought to remain unchanged, I beg that I may be permitted to retire from the chair of the Committee. I feel that I could not be of the smallest use there. I feel also that I should be lending my countenance to what I firmly believe to be a mere delusion. I believe that the present system tends not to accelerate the progress of truth but to delay the natural death of expiring errors. I conceive that we have at present no right to the respectable name of a Board of Public Instruction. We are a Board for wasting the public money, for printing books which are of less value than the paper on which they are printed was while it was blank-for giving artificial encouragement to absurd history, absurd metaphysics, absurd physics, absurd theology-for raising up a breed of scholars who find their scholarship an incumbrance and blemish, who live on the public while they are receiving their education, and whose education is so utterly useless to them that, when they have received it, they must either starve or live on the public all the rest of their lives. Entertaining these opinions, I am naturally desirous to decline all share in the responsibility of a body which, unless it alters its whole mode of proceedings, I must consider, not merely as useless, but as positively noxious.

​

J.V. Stalin Our Disagreements
First Published/Source: Jan 19, 1921 in Pravda, No. 12 Source: Works, J.V. Stalin, Foreign Languages Publishing House, Moscow, 1953, Volume 5, pp. 4-15 Transcription/HTML Markup: Charles Farrell Online Version: Stalin Reference Archive (marxists.org) 2000
Our disagreements on the trade-union question are not disagreements in principle about appraisal of the trade unions. The well-known points of our programme on the role of the trade unions, and the resolution of the Ninth Party Congress on the trade unions, which Trotsky often quotes, remain (and will remain) in force. Nobody disputes that the trade unions and the economic organizations ought to and will permeate each other ("coalescence"). Nobody disputes that the present period of the country's economic revival dictates the necessity of gradually transforming the as yet nominal industrial unions into real industrial unions, capable of putting our basic industries on their feet. In short, our disagreements are not disagreements about matters of principle.
Nor do we disagree about the necessity of labor discipline in the trade unions and in the working class generally. The talk about a section of our Party "letting the reins slip out of its hands," and leaving the masses to the play of elemental forces, is foolish. The fact that Party elements play the leading role in the trade unions and that the trade unions play the leading role in the working class remains indisputable.
Still less do we disagree on the question of the quality of the membership of the Central Committees of the trade unions, and of the All-Russian Central Council of Trade Unions. All agree that the membership of these institutions is far from ideal, that the ranks of the trade unions have been depleted by a number of military and other mobilizations, that the trade unions must get back their old officials and also get new ones, that they must be provided with technical resources, and so forth.
No, our disagreements are not in this sphere.
I Two Methods of Approach to the Mass of the Workers Our disagreements are about questions of the means by which to strengthen labor discipline in the working class, the methods of approach to the mass of the workers who are being drawn into the work of reviving industry, the ways of transforming the present weak trade unions into powerful, genuinely industrial unions, capable of reviving our industry.
There are two methods: the method of coercion (the military method), and the method of persuasion (the trade-union method). The first method by no means precludes elements of persuasion, but these are subordinate to the requirements of the coercion method and are auxiliary to the latter. The second method, in turn, does not preclude elements of coercion, but these are subordinate to the requirements of the persuasion method and are auxiliary to the latter. It is just as impermissible to confuse these two methods as it is to confuse the army with the working class.
A group of Party workers headed by Trotsky, intoxicated by the successes achieved by military methods in the army, supposes that those methods can, and must, be adopted among the workers, in the trade unions, in order to achieve similar successes in strengthening the unions and in reviving industry. But this group forgets that the army and the working class are two different spheres, that a method that is suitable for the army may prove to be unsuitable, harmful, for the working class and its trade unions.
The army is not a homogeneous mass; it consists of two main social groups, peasants and workers, the former being several times more numerous than the latter. In urging the necessity of employing chiefly methods of coercion in the army, the Eighth Party Congress based itself on the fact that our army consists mainly of peasants, that the peasants will not go to fight for socialism, that they can, and must, be compelled to fight for socialism by employing methods of coercion. This explains the rise of such purely military methods as the system of Commissars and Political Departments, Revolutionary Tribunals, disciplinary measures, appointment and not election to all posts, and so forth.
In contrast to the army, the working class is a homogeneous social sphere; its economic position disposes it towards socialism, it is easily influenced by communist agitation, it voluntarily organizes in trade unions and, as a consequence of all this, constitutes the foundation, the salt of the earth, of the Soviet state. It is not surprising, therefore, that the practical work of our industrial unions has been based chiefly on methods of persuasion. This explains the rise of such purely trade-union methods as explanation, mass propaganda, encouragement of initiative and independent activity among the mass of the workers, election of officials, and so forth.
The mistake Trotsky makes is that he underrates the difference between the army and the working class, he puts the trade unions on a par with the military organizations, and tries, evidently by inertia, to transfer military methods from the army into the trade unions, into the working class. Trotsky writes in one of his documents:
"The bare contrasting of military methods (orders, punishment) with trade-union methods (explanation, propaganda, independent activity) is a manifestation of Kautskian-Menshevik-Socialist-Revolutionary prejudices. . . . The very contrasting of labour organisations with military organisation in a workers' state is shameful surrender to Kautskyism."
That is what Trotsky says.
Disregarding the irrelevant talk about "Kautskyism," "Menshevism," and so forth, it is evident that Trotsky fails to understand the difference between labor organizations and military organizations, that he fails to understand that in the period of the termination of the war and the revival of industry it becomes necessary, inevitable, to contrast military with democratic (trade-union) methods, and that, therefore, to transfer military methods into the trade unions is a mistake, is harmful.
Failure to understand that lies at the bottom of the recently published polemical pamphlets of Trotsky on the trade unions.
Failure to understand that is the source of Trotsky's mistakes.
II Conscious Democracy and Forced "Democracy" Some think that talk about democracy in the trade unions is mere declamation, a fashion, called forth by certain phenomena in internal Party life, that, in time, people will get tired of "chatter" about democracy and everything will go on in the "old way."
Others believe that democracy in the trade unions is, essentially, a concession, a forced concession, to the workers' demands, that it is diplomacy rather than real, serious business.
Needless to say, both groups of comrades are profoundly mistaken. Democracy in the trade unions, i.e., what is usually called "normal methods of proletarian democracy in the unions," is the conscious democracy characteristic of mass working-class organizations, which presupposes consciousness of the necessity and utility of systematically employing methods of persuasion among the millions of workers organized in the trade unions. If that consciousness is absent, democracy be comes an empty sound.
While war was raging and danger stood at the gates, the appeals to "aid the front" that were issued by our organizations met with a ready response from the workers, for the mortal danger we were in was only too palpable, for that danger had assumed a very concrete form evident to everyone in the shape of the armies of Kolchak, Yudenich, Denikin, Pilsudski and Wrangel, which were advancing and restoring the power of the landlords and capitalists. It was not difficult to rouse the masses at that time. But today, when the war danger has been overcome and the new, economic danger (economic ruin) is far from being so palpable to the masses, the broad masses cannot be roused merely by appeals. Of course, everybody feels the shortage of bread and textiles; but firstly, people do contrive to obtain both bread and textiles in one way or another and, consequently, the danger of a food and goods famine does not spur the masses to the same extent as the war danger did; secondly, nobody will assert that the masses are as conscious of the reality of the economic danger (shortage of locomotives and of machines for agriculture, for textile mills and iron and steel plants, shortage of equipment for electric power stations, and so forth) as they were of the war danger in the recent past. To rouse the millions of the working class for the struggle against economic ruin it is necessary to heighten their initiative, consciousness and independent activity; it is necessary by means of concrete facts to convince them that economic ruin is just as real and mortal a danger as the war danger was yesterday; it is necessary to draw millions of workers into the work of reviving industry through the medium of trade unions built on democratic lines. Only in this way is it possible to make the entire working class vitally interested in the struggle which the economic organizations are waging against economic ruin. If this is not done, victory on the economic front cannot be achieved.
In short, conscious democracy, the method of proletarian democracy in the unions, is the only correct method for the industrial unions.
Forced "democracy" has nothing in common with this democracy.
Reading Trotsky's pamphlet The Role and Tasks of the Trade Unions, one might think that he, in essence, is "also" in favor of the "democratic" method. This has caused some comrades to think that we do not disagree about the methods of work in the trade unions. But that is absolutely wrong, for Trotsky's "democracy" is forced, half-hearted and unprincipled, and, as such, merely supplements the military-bureaucratic method, which is unsuitable for the trade unions.
Judge for yourselves.
At the beginning of November 1920, the Central Committee adopted, and the Communist group at the Fifth All-Russian Conference of Trade Unions carried through, a resolution stating that the "most vigorous and systematic struggle must be waged against the degeneration of centralism and militarized forms of work into bureaucracy, tyranny, officialdom and petty tutelage over the trade unions. . . that also for the Tsektran (the Central Committee of the Transport Workers Union, led by Trotsky) the time for the specific methods of administration for which the Central Political Administration of the Railways was set up, owing to special circumstances, is beginning to pass away," that, in view of this, the Communist group at the conference "advises the Tsektran to strengthen and develop normal methods of proletarian democracy in the union," and instructs the Tsektran "to take an active part in the general work of the All-Russian Central Council of Trade Unions and to be represented in it on an equal footing with other trade-union associations" (see Pravda, No. 255). In spite of that decision, however, during the whole of November, Trotsky and the Tsektran continued to pursue the old, semi-bureaucratic and semi-military line, continued to rely on the Central Political Administration of the Railways and the Central Political Administration of Water Transport, strove to "shake up," to blow up, the A.R.C.C.T.U. and upheld the privileged position of the Tsektran compared with other trade union associations. More than that. In a letter "to the members of the Political Bureau of the Central Committee," dated November 30, Trotsky, just as "unexpectedly," stated that "the Central Political Administration of Water Transport . . . cannot possibly be dissolved within the next two or three months." But what happened? Six days after that letter was written (on December 7), the same Trotsky, just as "unexpectedly," voted in the Central Committee for "the immediate abolition of the Central Political Administration of the Railways and the Central Political Administration of Water Transport, and the transfer of all their staffs and funds to the trade-union organization on the basis of normal democracy." And he was one of the eight members of the Central Committee who voted for this against the seven who considered that the abolition of these institutions was no longer enough, and who demanded, in addition, that the existing composition of the Tsektran be changed. To save the existing composition of the Tsektran, Trotsky voted for the abolition of the Central Political Administrations in the Tsektran.
What had changed during those six days? Perhaps the railway and water transport workers had matured so much during those six days that they no longer needed the Central Political Administration of the Railways and the Central Political Administration of Water Transport? Or, perhaps, an important change in the internal or external political situation had taken place in that short period? Of course not. The fact is that the water transport workers were vigorously demanding that the Tsektran should dissolve the Central Political Administrations and that the composition of the Tsektran itself should be changed; and Trotsky's group, fearing defeat and wishing at least to retain the existing composition of the Tsektran, was compelled to retreat, to make partial concessions, which, however, satisfied nobody.
Such are the facts.
It scarcely needs proof that this forced, half-hearted, unprincipled "democracy" has nothing in common with the "normal methods of proletarian democracy in the unions," which the Central Committee of the Party had recommended already at the beginning of November, and which are so essential for the revival of our industrial trade unions.
In his reply to the discussion at the meeting of the Communist group at the Congress of Soviets, Trotsky protested against the introduction of a political element into the controversy about the trade unions, on the ground that politics had nothing to do with the matter. It must be said that in this Trotsky is quite wrong. It scarcely needs proof that in a workers' and peasants' state, not a single important decision affecting the whole country, and especially if it directly concerns the working class, can be carried through without in one way or another affecting the political condition of the country. And, in general, it is ridiculous and shallow to separate politics from economics. For that very reason every such decision must be weighed up in advance also from the political point of view.
Judge for yourselves.
It can be now taken as proved that the methods of the Tsektran, which is led by Trotsky, have been condemned by the practical experience of the Tsektran itself. Trotsky's aim in directing the Tsektran and influencing the other unions through it was to reanimate and revive the unions, to draw the workers into the task of reviving industry. But what has he actually achieved? A conflict with the majority of the Communists in the trade unions, a conflict between the majority of the trade unions and the Tsektran, a virtual split in the Tsektran, the resentment of the rank-and-file workers organised in trade unions against the "Commissars." In other words, far from a revival of the unions taking place, the Tsektran itself is disintegrating. There can be no doubt that if the methods of the Tsektran were introduced in the other unions, we would get the same picture of conflict, splits and disintegration. And the result would be that we would have dissension and a split in the working class.
Can the political party of the working class ignore these facts? Can it be asserted that it makes no difference to the political condition of the country whether we have a working class solidly united in integral trade unions, or whether it is split up into different, mutually hostile groups? Can it be said that the political factor ought not to play any role in appraising the methods of approach to the masses, that politics have nothing to do with the matter?
Obviously not.
The R.S.F.S.R. and its associated republics now have a population of about 140,000,000. Of this population, 80 per cent are peasants. To be able to govern such a country, the Soviet power must enjoy the firm confidence of the working class, for such a country can be directed only through the medium of the working class and with the forces of the working class. But in order to retain and strengthen the confidence of the majority of the workers, it is necessary systematically to develop the consciousness, independent activity and initiative of the working class, systematically to educate it in the spirit of communism by organizing it in trade unions and drawing it into the work of building a communist economy.
Obviously, it is impossible to do this by coercive methods and by "shaking up" the unions from above, for such methods split the working class (the Tsektran!) and engender distrust of the Soviet power. Moreover, it is not difficult to understand that, speaking generally, it is inconceivable that either the consciousness of the masses or their confidence in the Soviet power can be developed by coercive methods.
Obviously, only "normal methods of proletarian democracy in the unions," only methods of persuasion, can make it possible to unite the working class, to stimulate its independent activity and strengthen its confidence in the Soviet power, the confidence that is needed so much now in order to rouse the country for the struggle against economic ruin.
As you see, politics also speak in favor of methods of persuasion.
January 5, 1921
J. Stalin
Stalin Works Archive

The working class must not constitute itself a political party; it must not, under any pretext, engage in political action, for to combat the state is to recognize the state: and this is contrary to eternal principles. Workers must not go on strike; for to struggle to increase one's wages or to prevent their decrease is like recognizing wages: and this is contrary to the eternal principles of the emancipation of the working class!
If in the political struggle against the bourgeois state the workers succeed only in extracting concessions, then they are guilty of compromise; and this is contrary to eternal principles. All peaceful movements, such as those in which English and American workers have the bad habit of engaging, are therefore to be despised. Workers must not struggle to establish a legal limit to the working day, because this is to compromise with the masters, who can then only exploit them for ten or twelve hours, instead of fourteen or sixteen. They must not even exert themselves in order legally to prohibit the employment in factories of children under the age of ten, because by such means they do not bring to an end the exploitation of children over ten: they thus commit a new compromise, which stains the purity of the eternal principles.
Workers should even less desire that, as happens in the United States of America, the state whose budget is swollen by what is taken from the working class should be obliged to give primary education to the workers' children; for primary education is not complete education. It is better that working men and working women should not be able to read or write or do sums than that they should receive education from a teacher in a school run by the state. It is far better that ignorance and a working day of sixteen hours should debase the working classes than that eternal principles should be violated.
If the political struggle of the working class assumes violent forms and if the workers replace the dictatorship of the bourgeois class with their own revolutionary dictatorship, then they are guilty of the terrible crime of lèse-principe; for, in order to satisfy their miserable profane daily needs and to crush the resistance of the bourgeois class, they, instead of laying down their arms and abolishing the state, give to the state a revolutionary and transitory form. Workers must not even form single unions for every trade, for by so doing they perpetuate the social division of labour as they find it in bourgeois society; this division, which fragments the working class, is the true basis of their present enslavement.
In a word, the workers should cross their arms and stop wasting time in political and economic movements. These movements can never produce anything more than short-term results. As truly religious men they should scorn daily needs and cry out with voices full of faith: "May our class be crucified, may our race perish, but let the eternal principles remain immaculate! As pious Christians they must believe the words of their pastor, despise the good things of this world and think only of going to Paradise. In place of Paradise read the social liquidation which is going to take place one day in some or other corner of the globe, no one knows how, or through whom, and the mystification is identical in all respects.
In expectation, therefore, of this famous social liquidation, the working class must behave itself in a respectable manner, like a flock of well-fed sheep; it must leave the government in peace, fear the police, respect the law and offer itself up uncomplaining as cannon-fodder.
In the practical life of every day, workers must be the most obedient servants of the state; but in their hearts they must protest energetically against its very existence, and give proof of their profound theoretical contempt for it by acquiring and reading literary treatises on its abolition; they must further scrupulously refrain from putting up any resistance to the capitalist regime apart from declamations on the society of the future, when this hated regime will have ceased to exist!
Political Indifferentism, Karl Marx Written: 1873; Translated: from the French by Bignami; Source: The Plebs, Vol. XIV, London 1922; First Published: 1874 in the Italian, Almanacco Repubblicano per l'anno 1874;

the road in
problems accrue
the road out
backwards
where we came from
problems remove
opposites
solve
the material versus the immaterial
the pundits ponder
philosophize
construe
surmize
getting nowhere
thinking
it
somewhere
recursion
lacking salience
defeats everything
one of the puzzles of tattooing is, is its association with criminal, drugtaking and otherwise violent/mentally unstable subcultures a cause or effect ?
i think its both, it is actually ritualized self-injury and body modification, but maybe there are negative immune and health effects from the tattooing and inks itself ?
moderate to heavy tattooing is not recognised for what it is, a destructive anti-social marker that reinforces the problems of its subcultures
if there is an answer
where is it ?
mandelshtam’s sea shell
rolling on the shore
the echo is sonorous
that is the answer
.
ed. the reference is to osip mandelstam’s poem (there are a number of translations on the web) which has the ending below
.
and our whispering spray shall fill
with wind and rain and mist
the walls of the brittle shell
a heart where nobody dwells . . .
you can’t scramble the brains with drugs or alcohol and expect to come out unscathed
yet
many do
lotuses
bland symbols of buddhism
a bland religion
spiced
by sex and financial scandals
aldous huxley’s failed coinage
.
to make this world sublime
take half a gram of "phanerothyme"
.
which lost out to humphry osmond’s
.
to fathom hell
or soar angelic
take a pinch
of "psychedelic"
.
my reply:
.
a pinch he took
and entered a maze
but on coming out
was still in a daze
.
ed. my entire experience of psychedelic users on the web is they are entitled arrogant arseholes, not one exception, dangerously "missionary" for their cause, you can’t scramble the brain safely, a truism they are living evidence of
its chemical concussion to take psychedelics
in my life i have only seen a very few flower arrangements i like
here’s one
ed. the way it vibrates when bumped gives them away as plastic, i probably liked it because i have seen this arrangement before
is and is not
coming into being
and disappearing
all that can be said
is here
in the closet of the vatican
years ago i watched a video of pope benedict and senior clergy paying close attention to an acrobatics troop performing for them — the men in the troop were good looking muscular types and the pope was totally leering at them, that’s when the penny dropped with me about what was really going on there
i am sure cardinal becciu is only the tip of the iceberg in terms of embezzlement and cardinal pell’s death must have brought sighs of relief all round
its a culture of total hypocrisy and larceny of the public purse, it really made me see mother teresa in a different light with her shift to more atheistic views in later life
men
those blind asses
evolutionarily designed
to be lead by women
who follow
the species imperative
to successfully
breed
darwin
had
a wife
deadlines
get pushed back
for new lines
called
deadlines
meaning in abeyance
he
still
has
to
understand
.
meaning in abeyance
she
still
has
to
understand
education
worse than drugs
for
distorting
your sense of reality
likewise
an
irreversible footprint
of
damage
so much poetry
meaning in abeyance
in the wrong way
a snarl of contradictions
bad analogical declamations
the words mirror the brain
so pretence is no longer effective
there is a space of attainment
competence
while there
though never easy
yet is easy
and there
don’t get bogged down in the opinion of others
but
go
your
own
way
what goes
is
gone
hard to accept
is
accepted
our boundaries
that we cross
unwillingly
or
willingly
define
us
in
a
way
that
is
difficult
to
understand
the holocaust was an extraordinarily effective operation in terms of deception and organization
its not appreciated the extent to which this was enabled and driven by german academia
i think we are seeing academia go on another toxic bender with neo-marxism, identity politics, diversity, " woke" and "trans"
its not in the same order of harm, but still . . .
a very good documentary on anton chekhov, a turbulent life in a turbulent period, a lot of social change with dramatically increasing literacy and tuberculosis being a common termination point, we don’t know how in that respect, life is so different today
the wind phone
its in the town of otsuchi, japan, where those bereaved by 2011 earthquake and tsunami can go to talk to those close to them who died
simultaneity
that space
away from our lives
those who have died
their absence everyday
how quickly we forget
yet
some things
remain
what
doesn’t
fade
observing
from
a distance
dissociating
from a real event
to look
objectively
philosophy — the love of wisdom
when you’ve met sophie
only then will you understand
she’s
a
bit
of
a
nag
.
philosophy — the love of wisdom
when you’ve met sophie
only then will you understand
she’s
a
bit
of
a
hag
unrequited love
be thankful
the universe
has
delivered
to
you
immersion
solves
all
writer’s
block
galaxies
of
ideas
so
constant
poems
with
one
word
per
line
space
on
screens
is
free
larry eigner at his best is a great poet, totally underappreciated
one of his poems (respaced by me to improve readability and smooth the flow) :
.
again dawn
the sky
dropped its invisible whiteness
we saw pass out nowhere
empty the blue stars
our summer on the ground like
last night another time in fragments
conspiracy theories
aliens
prehistorical civilisations
trying to impose
a continuity that doesn’t exist
the vacuum
of incalculable complexity
is
hard
to
handle
the unknown
is
multifaceted
if there is no answer
question
the
question
"emergence"
isolates
different scales
a
computational
boundary
theology
is
faux
computation
"scrolling paralysis"
if you know what it means you know
pregnancy
a phase change
the depth of which
is
beyond
the male
a butterfly
a glimmering image
beauty takes you in
dopamine fasting
flotation of mood
in
cataclysmic
shortfall
one of the surprising things about south korea is the extent to which it is christian
china and japan would also be this way if not for its brutal suppression at various points in their histories
i would have to say it is the most sophisticated religion and missionizes well, theologically a mess, but they all are
"O. K." has quite a history to it
once you understand that jesus is a fictional character , this stuff looks completely insane, what are these women doing ?

Review list

• Sanctuary/Sword
• Visegrád
• Reach
• Aleria
• Onyx
• Thermopylae
• Halo

Transcript

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1PDkkLWV8-GRzRUhkb8e2GFnG0QJnZ_q1RDB5ckpWRSo/edit#heading=h.r3vgbz9evmzx

Memorable quotes

“We're on our own….FLEETCOM doesn't believe the Covenant's on Reach, they just think Cobalt's missing. This is a search-and-rescue mission…but we need to be prepared for the possibility that Cobalt ran into something. … Command thinks this planet's untouchable…they haven't seen what we've seen, and they don't know what we know. I'll tell you this: We will have contact…until then…it's just us.”
“You get any closer, we're gonna have to talk about our feelings.”
“When, exactly, did you leave ONI, Admiral? … You never left.
-John
Briggs: I can't even describe the amount of shit you're in.
Kai-125: I can't even describe what's about to happen to your face.
“I carry priority orders from FLEETCOM. … To bring you in. … There is no mission, you stole a Condor. ,,, Falsified a flight plan. ,,, You're not even authorized to be in those suits right now let alone pointing a gun at my face, so stand down or we will engage you.”
Briggs: We found Cobalt Team 80 meters from the relay, they were in the trees. We observed plasma scarring in the area, I don't think they saw it coming. … How would you like to handle this? The bodies, sir?
Ackerson: There are no bodies...I would list it as MIA.
-Briggs
​
“We were a thousand feet up. Wind whipping, cables groaning, couldn’t have been more than 2° up there. January, you know? … I can't hold it anymore. I'm strapped in the harness, and I look down, I tell Arthur, I say “I gotta go!” What's he gonna do? … I peed on him, what could he do?”
“You know who built that bridge? … I built that bridge…me and your Uncle Arthur. The day it was finished, I walked across it with your mum…and your sister. She couldn't have been more than three. Held her little hand. She wouldn’t let me pick her up, she wanted to walk…the whole way. Yeah.”
Ackerson’s Father: So when's she coming? Your sister?
Ackerson: She's gone, dad…Julia's gone…mum too.
Ackerson’s Father: Oh.
Ackerson: It's just you and me.
Ackerson’s Father: I know that…I damn well know that, don’t-don't think that I don't know that.
-Ackerson Sr.
“You're in danger. … Not from Ruby Ann, I'm talking about your crew; Ruby Ann bought them off, they got rid of Soren. … You’re next. … You have to get Kessler and go.”
“Sometimes, it takes weeks to get here, sometimes months, some never get here at all. We left Madrigal with four ships…we arrived with one.”
“That's where they process you before you're indentured. … It's not free…nothing is free. … Most people have it worse…and sometimes, I think I deserve it; I'm being punished. ... I'm not supposed to be here, this isn't my life…I failed my responsibility to my people and my planet.”
“I'm Kwan Ha…my family...protected Madrigal for more generations than anyone can count.”
-Kwan
Antares: Are you kidding me? At this range [dodging a Longsword]? Come on, man.
Kessler: It’s Master Chief.
Antares: Yeah, it’s Master Chief in eight different pieces.
Kessler: Nope, nope, you missed.
Antares: Fine.
-Antares
Laera: You're a son of a bitch.
Antares: No…I'm an opportunist.
“I don't know what Ruby Ann promised you, but you're getting played, Antares, and it's not too late. … What you call a treasure was a box full of deuterium tokens that wasn't worth much to begin with. … Ruby Ann doesn't want the money, she wants the Rubble.”
-Laera
Keyes: Absent without leave...unauthorized deployment of weapons systems, violation of… I mean, what do you even call stealing a goddamn Condor? … I'm looking at 15 infractions of the UCMJ, one of which involves pointing a loaded weapon in the face of an officer? … Effective immediately, Silver Team is suspended from combat operations ‘til further notice.
John-117: Admiral Keyes, I know-
Keyes: You know nothing…because it's not your job to know, it's mine, your job is to follow orders!
​
Keyes: Did you know…that Master Chief's suspicions were valid when you sent our soldiers out into a hostile-
Ackerson: I resent the implication.
Keyes: I want to know what you knew, and I want to know when you knew it.
“This is Reach… … …home to millions of people. … This is my home!”
“I won't run. … Go fuck yourself.”
-Keyes
“[The Covenant setting foot on Reach] was a matter of time, this day was inevitable. It's mathematics, Admiral.”
“We don't get to win this one; if you send out an evacuation alert, we'll have chaos, panic. The Covenant element hit Cobalt Team days ago, we can only assume the Covenant fleet isn't far behind. There is a plan in place, but it's going to require some hard choices…I need to know that you're with me.”
“I want to share something with you, and this isn't me speaking as your superior… Sometimes, people don't get better. … Sometimes, we do more damage by holding on.”
“We're going to fight, we’re just not going to win.”
“This…is reality … we can either face it or we die.”
“I never understood how fragile they really are. … Because you made them that way. … You took them when they were children, you conditioned them, and then when they were old enough to think for themselves, you made sure they never would; you put in those pellets…so they never had to feel desire or…ambition…or preference…so they would never choose anyone other than you…and that's it, isn't it?”
“... Your efforts weren't in vain, Catherine; you won't be here to see it, but these things that you made, broken as they may be…they are going to become the foundation for something extraordinary…and I hope that gives you some comfort..in the end.”
“Don't think…for a second this doesn't cost me everything…but this…is reality, Admiral…we can either face it or we die."
“I didn't want you to be alone…I'm not a monster.”
-Ackerson
“... We're not built to sit around and wait, it's not good for us…we need to be in the fight.”
-Kai
Parangosky: You’ve always had this problem: You are not in control.
John-117: You mean not controllable.
“We have a common goal: To win the war. Don't mistake me for a friend.”
John-117: I believe the Covenant is here.
Parangosky: In the ramen?
John-117: On Reach.
“The O-N-I protects itself…make them your enemy, and it won't matter that you're Master Chief, you will cease to be useful.”
Parangosky: You fight…why?
John-117: To win…to defend our home...to…preserve humanity-
Parangosky: No…you fight because I tell you to. You are a soldier…be a soldier. This is what you will do: Go back there…go back to FLEETCOM, kiss whatever ass you have to kiss. You go do your time in the brig, smile, you'll never speak of it again, they will probably give you another medal.
-Parangosky
“I remember all of them…especially your sister. She was... She was so curious; she used to ask so many questions…but you never know who's going to make it through…the augmentation and who isn't…and she didn't. … She was dying. She didn't know why, she-she couldn't understand. I told her more or less what you just told me…that…even though she wouldn't see it, she would be this small part of…the next step forward. I don't know if she understood; she was so scared…but I do know…that she loved you very much…and I hope that…gives you some comfort.”
-Halsey
Talia: Never been in a church before, have you? People come here for comfort…for protection…for answers.
John-117: Do they find them?
Talia: Sometimes.
John-117: Do you?
“I bring you blessings…people of Reach. Know that I've come without mercy…without pity. Know that I am the instrument of your extinction. I bring this planet forth…as a burnt offering. Upon this altar…I place the head of the Demon. May his blood…mark the way to the Sacred Ring…and consecrate the Great Journey to my people. Know that I am…Var…’Gatanai. Know that I am…death.”
-Var ‘Gatanai

Recap

251X

• On a January work day, James Ackerson’s father and Uncle Arthur are hung atop an extended bridge they are working on in Reach City. The former, unable to hold his bladder, notifies Arthur on composing himself
• On the bridge’s completion day, he walks through it with three-year-old daughter Julia and his wife. Julia insists on walking through the entire bridge by herself
• Julia is kidnapped for the SPARTAN-II program

2530

• Throughout the SPARTAN-II program, Julia expresses much curiosity, which is cut mostly short by her becoming a fatality of the augmentations, a fate she doesn't comprehend out of fear
• Halsey, making a point to remember every one of her Spartans, tells Julia that she is certain to be a small part of the next step. She learns that she loved her brother a lot

2552

• The four-ship evacuation of Madrigal, through unfortunate circumstances, is reduced to one

Reach/Silver

Prologue

• Silver Team makes seven kilometers from Visegrád Sector relay. Riz-028 contacts Cobalt Team, but they hear the same static crackling from Sanctuary while receiving zip from both the team and relay
• John-117 tells Kai-125 they are completely independent due to FLEETCOM's blind response, as well as to expect Covenant. Kai expresses concern of the mission's credibility to Vannak

Act I

• Silver breaks into the relay, finding no contacts but hearing a distant echoing clank. They find leftover food, but no sign of Cobalt Team
• Talia Perez busies herself with translating the Covenant message on Sanctuary - the static. She is shocked at hearing Sangheili within, and proceeds to decipher it
• Riz restores the power, but proceeds to hear the Sanctuary static, John shutting it off. They descend into the facility and see the source - a malfunctioning door
• A UNSC contingent led by CPT Briggs corners the Spartans. The latter, with only her sidearm, approaches the Master Chief and tries to get him to stand down, only to be targeted by Kai
• The Master Chief tries to explain himself and his reasons, but the opposition is uncooperative, forcing him to disarm Briggs and open the door
• Unfortunately, all they find is a quaint corridor. Although in denial at first, Silver realizes their illegal deployment was for nothing, and turn themselves in, being charged with 15 violations of the Uniform Code of Military Justice (UCMJ)
• Silver testifies to their motives - mainly John's - leading to a scolding by Jacob Keyes to the latter. He suspends the team from battle missions
• John tries to claim legitimate intelligence from his findings, but is shut down by a flight plan projection detailing the far-off system world Cobalt was assigned to - Aktis IV, 4FRT-12SH-F074
• John is unconvinced and accuses FLEETCOM of a mission change (as the code alone implied). In response, Keyes claims psychosis from him and mandates a psych eval to clear barracks arrest; the eval will include a neurochemical process
• John is outraged and states Ackerson is involved as well for bringing all of this in, against Silver's silent and voiced protests. Keyes defends solely that he's the one thing standing before a court-martial
• The team proceeds to walk away from John, against his pleas to listen to his justifications; even Kai chides him for being erratic, citing his claims of seeing Makee. John snaps at her for not working with him, losing her attention

Act II

• Riz pays Louis a dinner visit at Danilo's flat. Being boyfriends, the latter two tease each other at what they're doing next, Danilo stating to Riz he's available for treatment afterwards, to which she clarifies she's just chilling
• Riz compliments Danilo's setup and settle for eating and drinking. She then questions Louis on what he meant with seeking a life beyond Spartan-hood; the latter chuckles
• John is escorted into an elevator by two ONI guards. Picking up Parangosky's tracker and intending to deliver the intel, he knocks them both out inside before meeting her at a ramen shop
• Kai testifies to Ackerson about the Visegrád mission's nature, partly to stand up for John as well as to give her team a shot at combat deployment
• Just after she argues for lone sortie by herself, Ackerson reveals John's FLEETCOM escape and accuses her of being in cahoots with him, bringing up her claim for John of his perfect mental fitness
• Ackerson brings up John's dealings with Cortana and Makee, saying his is not Master Chief-like behavior and, with remorse, that he may be a lost cause they are placing false hope on. Kai doesn't believe so, then requests her next order

Act III

• John briefly succumbs to Parangosky's ramen pleasantries. When he inquires on her purpose with his data, she reminds him they are less than friends, so he skips to the part about their enemy's Reach presence - not in the ramen, but on-world
• The ex-CINCONI is rather unfazed, but John elaborates regardless, while watching out for ONI's spooks in mentioning them. Parangosky slyly proclaims ONI's power over him, then gives a loaded question of inquiring his reason for fighting
• John plays along with answering, causing Parangosky to assume a bossy stance advocating ignorance. He recognizes her feint at the same time he notices two black-clad men very obviously with Parangosky
• John tells her he recognizes that her story about being kicked out of ONI is a con, and cuts ties with her. Parangosky, conceding, gestures her men to let him go

Act IV

• Vannak, in the barracks, eyes Cobalt Team's section of the Spartan board, sharing the Master Chief's suspicions
• Riz and Louis fall asleep watching a wildlife documentary portraying brontotheres

Reach/Ack Man

Act I

• James Ackerson attends to his senile father telling tales of his engineer days. They then shift topics per the son's prompt, speaking of the impending Fall of Reach
• They also alternate around the father's effort in building the bridge with Uncle Arthur and Ackerson's sister Julia, whose death (with their mother) Ackerson states
• Ackerson's father tells his son that he still has a grip on reality, and then tells him to ensure he doesn't suffer captivity by Covenant. Ackerson suits up as he hears it and leaves

Act II

• Cobalt Team's plasma-lacerated corpses are found in a forest 80 meters of Visegrád Relay verifying the Master Chief's fears. They are recovered and taken to Ackerson and Keyes, who suspect an ambush strike, their autopsy dating their fates to days before
• Ackerson declares that there are no bodies officially; Cobalt is MIA. While Keyes is mourning the losses, he accuses Ackerson of withholding knowledge of Covenant presence
• The Colonel tries to defuse the situation, arguing based on his calculations with Cortana that such an incursion was certitude, but Keyes refuses to knuckle to the idea, insisting on sounding the Winter Contingency as the other officers are aware
• Ackerson disagrees, saying it is a futile endeavor as the invasion fleet is only moments behind the strike force, but assures there is a plan to avert total defeat that will need hard choices
• The conversation falls apart when Keyes insists on staying to fight in their shared home turf and Ackerson brings up transporting essential assets off-world. The Admiral's parting words are "Go fuck yourself"

Act III

• Ackerson visits Catherine Halsey again, accosting her of guaranteeing much fragility in her own Spartans by way of the hormonal pellets ensuring blind loyalty to her cause
• The Spartan director bids farewell to Halsey, assuring her that her Spartans, despite their flaws, will be the foundation of "something extraordinary." Halsey pulls one last card: Her knowledge and treatment of his sister
• Though Ackerson is touched and leaves, seemingly affected by the confession, he comes back with one more surprise of his own: Soren, now returned to the UNSC, together with Halsey

Act IV

• Ackerson's father is relocated to a different room late at night
• Seeing as it is mere minutes before Covenant arrival, the son helps his father commit assisted suicide by pill, and deploys a Julia flash-clone to accompany his father as the last thing he sees. Ackerson departs Reach by Condor

Rubble

Act II

• Laera, while roaming the Rubble, is dragged to the cave network by Kwan Ha, who informs her of Ruby Ann's buyout of Soren's crew, who are now going after her next
• Antares and Kessler are pitting toys against each other, the latter claiming his Master Chief action figure dodged the former's Longsword barrage, when Laera arrives
• Antares promptly announces Soren's ship stream manifold is fixed - ahead of schedule as they pulled an all-nighter for Soren. Laera, seeing through the false reassurances, insists successfully on traversing alone
• The crew walk away, allowing Kwan to come out of hiding. At the port, she vents her guilt to Laera about losing her homeworld and failing her duty
• The trio proceed to blend in with the refugees to sneak their way to Soren's ship. They succeed and power up the ship to get Soren back; unfortunately, Antares hits the alert button to close off the gate, and the ship is unable to make it out
• Now trapped inside the Rubble, Laera tells Kwan to get her son out via hatch, giving her necklace as trade for boarding the transport ship Bodegraven. She begs for Kwan to protect her son, but she objects
• Laera exits the ship to confront Soren's crew. After brief chitchat, Laera incites a fistfight; although she gains an upper hand, she is overwhelmed and subdued, although Kwan and Kessler slip out successfully

Act III

• Laera, held in the ship, tells Antares it isn't too late to see reason, but he doesn't listen. Outside, Kwan and Kessler are nearly in the Bodegraven with the crowd, but stop; Kwan assures Kessler he'll see his mother again, then heads back
• Kwan sneaks inside the ship as it takes off, making a constant metal-rapping noise. Meanwhile, Laera is interrogated about the location of Soren's Madrigal treasure; it continues past a slipspace jump
• Antares, after tasking his men (except Castor) to deal with the rapping informs Laera that Soren's being held on a Reach-bound prison ship, and then complains about Soren's selfish hoarding of the treasure
• Laera laughs, explaining how it wasn't worth much, and receives a shotgun to her head by Carina. Castor interjects about Laera's taunts, and is told by his annoyed boss to deal with the noise
• Kwan slowly makes work of the crew, ceasing her rapping, and Antares and Carina has conflict over support
• The mutinous captain, exhausting his patience, locks up Laera in a chamber, suffocating her in a minute unless she spills out the treasure's location. Laera is saved after Kwan stabs Antares to death

Act IV

• Kwan, taking a moment to catch herself, taps Laera's knife on the balcony, not answering where Kessler is. She defeats Carina, the last of the crew, just as she is right behind Laera, and slits her throat
• Laera is told of her son's whereabouts, Kwan defending that it was to save her. They then plan their next course of action

Climax

• John learns from Manuela that her granddaughter is attending St. Joseph's Church. He visits just as she's nearing completion of her prayer service, then converses with Talia briefly over religious experiences
• The two speak of their Sanctuary moment, John surprised when Talia reveals she knows of Makee before unveiling her recording of the Sanctuary interference
• Talia translates the entire audio, revealed to be a prayer by Arbiter (?) Var 'Gatanai on his intentions, his pledge to destroy Reach, and to spill the "Demon"'s blood for the Great Journey and Halo
• It ends with a self-declamation as "death" personified just as the Covenant begin invading Reach, signified by the church's structure being rocked by a big explosion

Review

Pros

• The continued all-helmet shots of Silver Team, the sound and horror-esque production design of the relay intrusion scene through making the tone foreboding through that broken door and static
• Ackerson's personal stakes against the SPARTAN-II program being formed through replacing Ruwan with Julia - building her up through last ep and the scenes with his dad. Also how even Ack Man family members are willing to risk it all including give their lives for a merciful death and pissing on each other, XD
• The subtle rug-pulling of Parangosky's real standing as well as the juxtaposition of John being under red light and Parangosky being calm. I also liked the black-clad men speaking a lot through gesture alone
• The Master Chief becoming more alone than before because of his relentless pursuit for warning people of the threat - no team, no Parangosky even - just to give the one-two punch of reuniting next ep. Also, just cherry on top that this behavior is immediately talked about by Ack Man and used as indictment against him
• Of course he isn't always all-action; he takes it easy particularly at the Parangosky meet, indulging himself a little while smiling more, a handful of trade jokes too
• That callback between Antares and Kessler about the MC surviving an airstrike - TFoR much, which ironically was orchestrated by Ackerson?
• Casual and chill (apparent) gay relationship involving an ex-Spartan - brings back Randall-037 and Maria-062 memories, Ralph-103 too
• Kwan keeps lamenting her failings and her people's plight, as well as replicating the fingedoor-tapping, giving necessary weight and tension to an otherwise less-than-interesting subplot. Hope there's no obsession with this Ruby Ann
• Everything about Ackerson and Keyes' argument and the grim truths they had to face, not to mention their moral standings. Let's not forget Ackerson's diverse emotional range while confronting Halsey and being talked back about his dead sis. Long time coming was ripping through the pellets' idea
• The ending with the montage of normal lives mere minutes before all hell breaks loose, combined with the heightened tension and double EN/Sangheili speak was absolute cinema

Cons

• Not showing or even teasing how Cobalt got slaughtered. Maybe there could have been lighter suits, maybe just tease a fierce firefight, I wish they had more for a minimalist portrayal of this new ruthless Arby wiping out our deadliest weapons

Contested
I know there could be questioning on four SPARTAN-IIs - the titan of titans - getting taken down like squat, but as a potential lore/history lesson (especially as Var was probably not the only guy there):

• Thel 'Lodamee, a simple Elite Major, taking out Sheila-065 (unknown means) and almost John Rings himself in single melee combat
• Ustaf ’Nbekee blasting a II by way of the simple Needler. Daisy-023 got whacked the same way
• Grace-093 being capped by Brute Shot-toting...Brutes - not even getting to the many S-II deaths, notably some from mundane means, in First Strike and Ghosts of Onyx
• Stolt, Yapyap THE DESTROYER's spiritual predecessor. Probably was the cause of that "Spartan too wounded to continue active duty" Canon Halsey mentioned

All these examples to prove that with the myriad Covie-nent troops there are, our green toy soldiers are be Scarabs in SGTMAJ Johnson's words: Tough, but ain't invincible

Conclusion: 8.5/10

(Obligatory note this ain't final)

Review list

• Sanctuary/Sword
• Visegrád
• Reach
• Aleria
• Onyx
• Thermopylae
• Halo

Transcript

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1PDkkLWV8-GRzRUhkb8e2GFnG0QJnZ_q1RDB5ckpWRSo/edit#heading=h.r3vgbz9evmzx

Memorable quotes

“We're on our own….FLEETCOM doesn't believe the Covenant's on Reach, they just think Cobalt's missing. This is a search-and-rescue mission…but we need to be prepared for the possibility that Cobalt ran into something. … Command thinks this planet's untouchable…they haven't seen what we've seen, and they don't know what we know. I'll tell you this: We will have contact…until then…it's just us.”
“You get any closer, we're gonna have to talk about our feelings.”
“When, exactly, did you leave ONI, Admiral? … You never left.
-John
Briggs: I can't even describe the amount of shit you're in.
Kai-125: I can't even describe what's about to happen to your face.
“I carry priority orders from FLEETCOM. … To bring you in. … There is no mission, you stole a Condor. ,,, Falsified a flight plan. ,,, You're not even authorized to be in those suits right now let alone pointing a gun at my face, so stand down or we will engage you.”
Briggs: We found Cobalt Team 80 meters from the relay, they were in the trees. We observed plasma scarring in the area, I don't think they saw it coming. … How would you like to handle this? The bodies, sir?
Ackerson: There are no bodies...I would list it as MIA.
-Briggs
“We were a thousand feet up. Wind whipping, cables groaning, couldn’t have been more than 2° up there. January, you know? … I can't hold it anymore. I'm strapped in the harness, and I look down, I tell Arthur, I say “I gotta go!” What's he gonna do? … I peed on him, what could he do?”
“You know who built that bridge? … I built that bridge…me and your Uncle Arthur. The day it was finished, I walked across it with your mum…and your sister. She couldn't have been more than three. Held her little hand. She wouldn’t let me pick her up, she wanted to walk…the whole way. Yeah.”
Ackerson’s Father: So when's she coming? Your sister?
Ackerson: She's gone, dad…Julia's gone…mum too.
Ackerson’s Father: Oh.
Ackerson: It's just you and me.
Ackerson’s Father: I know that…I damn well know that, don’t-don't think that I don't know that.
-Ackerson Sr.
“You're in danger. … Not from Ruby Ann, I'm talking about your crew; Ruby Ann bought them off, they got rid of Soren. … You’re next. … You have to get Kessler and go.”
“Sometimes, it takes weeks to get here, sometimes months, some never get here at all. We left Madrigal with four ships…we arrived with one.”
“That's where they process you before you're indentured. … It's not free…nothing is free. … Most people have it worse…and sometimes, I think I deserve it; I'm being punished. ... I'm not supposed to be here, this isn't my life…I failed my responsibility to my people and my planet.”
“I'm Kwan Ha…my family...protected Madrigal for more generations than anyone can count.”
-Kwan
Antares: Are you kidding me? At this range [dodging a Longsword]? Come on, man.
Kessler: It’s Master Chief.
Antares: Yeah, it’s Master Chief in eight different pieces.
Kessler: Nope, nope, you missed.
Antares: Fine.
-Antares
Laera: You're a son of a bitch.
Antares: No…I'm an opportunist.
“I don't know what Ruby Ann promised you, but you're getting played, Antares, and it's not too late. … What you call a treasure was a box full of deuterium tokens that wasn't worth much to begin with. … Ruby Ann doesn't want the money, she wants the Rubble.”
-Laera
Keyes: Absent without leave...unauthorized deployment of weapons systems, violation of… I mean, what do you even call stealing a goddamn Condor? … I'm looking at 15 infractions of the UCMJ, one of which involves pointing a loaded weapon in the face of an officer? … Effective immediately, Silver Team is suspended from combat operations ‘til further notice.
John-117: Admiral Keyes, I know-
Keyes: You know nothing…because it's not your job to know, it's mine, your job is to follow orders!
Keyes: Did you know…that Master Chief's suspicions were valid when you sent our soldiers out into a hostile-
Ackerson: I resent the implication.
Keyes: I want to know what you knew, and I want to know when you knew it.
“This is Reach… … …home to millions of people. … This is my home!”
“I won't run. … Go fuck yourself.”
-Keyes
“[The Covenant setting foot on Reach] was a matter of time, this day was inevitable. It's mathematics, Admiral.”
“We don't get to win this one; if you send out an evacuation alert, we'll have chaos, panic. The Covenant element hit Cobalt Team days ago, we can only assume the Covenant fleet isn't far behind. There is a plan in place, but it's going to require some hard choices…I need to know that you're with me.”
“I want to share something with you, and this isn't me speaking as your superior… Sometimes, people don't get better. … Sometimes, we do more damage by holding on.”
“We're going to fight, we’re just not going to win.”
“This…is reality … we can either face it or we die.”
“I never understood how fragile they really are. … Because you made them that way. … You took them when they were children, you conditioned them, and then when they were old enough to think for themselves, you made sure they never would; you put in those pellets…so they never had to feel desire or…ambition…or preference…so they would never choose anyone other than you…and that's it, isn't it?”
“... Your efforts weren't in vain, Catherine; you won't be here to see it, but these things that you made, broken as they may be…they are going to become the foundation for something extraordinary…and I hope that gives you some comfort..in the end.”
“Don't think…for a second this doesn't cost me everything…but this…is reality, Admiral…we can either face it or we die."
“I didn't want you to be alone…I'm not a monster.”
-Ackerson
“... We're not built to sit around and wait, it's not good for us…we need to be in the fight.”
-Kai
Parangosky: You’ve always had this problem: You are not in control.
John-117: You mean not controllable.
“We have a common goal: To win the war. Don't mistake me for a friend.”
John-117: I believe the Covenant is here.
Parangosky: In the ramen?
John-117: On Reach.
“The O-N-I protects itself…make them your enemy, and it won't matter that you're Master Chief, you will cease to be useful.”
Parangosky: You fight…why?
John-117: To win…to defend our home...to…preserve humanity-
Parangosky: No…you fight because I tell you to. You are a soldier…be a soldier. This is what you will do: Go back there…go back to FLEETCOM, kiss whatever ass you have to kiss. You go do your time in the brig, smile, you'll never speak of it again, they will probably give you another medal.
-Parangosky
“I remember all of them…especially your sister. She was... She was so curious; she used to ask so many questions…but you never know who's going to make it through…the augmentation and who isn't…and she didn't. … She was dying. She didn't know why, she-she couldn't understand. I told her more or less what you just told me…that…even though she wouldn't see it, she would be this small part of…the next step forward. I don't know if she understood; she was so scared…but I do know…that she loved you very much…and I hope that…gives you some comfort.”
-Halsey
Talia: Never been in a church before, have you? People come here for comfort…for protection…for answers.
John-117: Do they find them?
Talia: Sometimes.
John-117: Do you?
“I bring you blessings…people of Reach. Know that I've come without mercy…without pity. Know that I am the instrument of your extinction. I bring this planet forth…as a burnt offering. Upon this altar…I place the head of the Demon. May his blood…mark the way to the Sacred Ring…and consecrate the Great Journey to my people. Know that I am…Var…’Gatanai. Know that I am…death.”
-Var ‘Gatanai

Recap

251X

• On a January work day, James Ackerson’s father and Uncle Arthur are hung atop an extended bridge they are working on in Reach City. The former, unable to hold his bladder, notifies Arthur on composing himself
• On the bridge’s completion day, he walks through it with three-year-old daughter Julia and his wife. Julia insists on walking through the entire bridge by herself
• Julia is kidnapped for the SPARTAN-II program

2530

• Throughout the SPARTAN-II program, Julia expresses much curiosity, which is cut mostly short by her becoming a fatality of the augmentations, a fate she doesn't comprehend out of fear
• Halsey, making a point to remember every one of her Spartans, tells Julia that she is certain to be a small part of the next step. She learns that she loved her brother a lot

2552

• The four-ship evacuation of Madrigal, through unfortunate circumstances, is reduced to one

Reach/Silver

Prologue

• Silver Team makes seven kilometers from Visegrád Sector relay. Riz-028 contacts Cobalt Team, but they hear the same static crackling from Sanctuary while receiving zip from both the team and relay
• John-117 tells Kai-125 they are completely independent due to FLEETCOM's blind response, as well as to expect Covenant. Kai expresses concern of the mission's credibility to Vannak

Act I

• Silver breaks into the relay, finding no contacts but hearing a distant echoing clank. They find leftover food, but no sign of Cobalt Team
• Talia Perez busies herself with translating the Covenant message on Sanctuary - the static. She is shocked at hearing Sangheili within, and proceeds to decipher it
• Riz restores the power, but proceeds to hear the Sanctuary static, John shutting it off. They descend into the facility and see the source - a malfunctioning door
• A UNSC contingent led by CPT Briggs corners the Spartans. The latter, with only her sidearm, approaches the Master Chief and tries to get him to stand down, only to be targeted by Kai
• The Master Chief tries to explain himself and his reasons, but the opposition is uncooperative, forcing him to disarm Briggs and open the door
• Unfortunately, all they find is a quaint corridor. Although in denial at first, Silver realizes their illegal deployment was for nothing, and turn themselves in, being charged with 15 violations of the Uniform Code of Military Justice (UCMJ)
• Silver testifies to their motives - mainly John's - leading to a scolding by Jacob Keyes to the latter. He suspends the team from battle missions
• John tries to claim legitimate intelligence from his findings, but is shut down by a flight plan projection detailing the far-off system world Cobalt was assigned to - Aktis IV, 4FRT-12SH-F074
• John is unconvinced and accuses FLEETCOM of a mission change (as the code alone implied). In response, Keyes claims psychosis from him and mandates a psych eval to clear barracks arrest; the eval will include a neurochemical process
• John is outraged and states Ackerson is involved as well for bringing all of this in, against Silver's silent and voiced protests. Keyes defends solely that he's the one thing standing before a court-martial
• The team proceeds to walk away from John, against his pleas to listen to his justifications; even Kai chides him for being erratic, citing his claims of seeing Makee. John snaps at her for not working with him, losing her attention

Act II

• Riz pays Louis a dinner visit at Danilo's flat. Being boyfriends, the latter two tease each other at what they're doing next, Danilo stating to Riz he's available for treatment afterwards, to which she clarifies she's just chilling
• Riz compliments Danilo's setup and settle for eating and drinking. She then questions Louis on what he meant with seeking a life beyond Spartan-hood; the latter chuckles
• John is escorted into an elevator by two ONI guards. Picking up Parangosky's tracker and intending to deliver the intel, he knocks them both out inside before meeting her at a ramen shop
• Kai testifies to Ackerson about the Visegrád mission's nature, partly to stand up for John as well as to give her team a shot at combat deployment
• Just after she argues for lone sortie by herself, Ackerson reveals John's FLEETCOM escape and accuses her of being in cahoots with him, bringing up her claim for John of his perfect mental fitness
• Ackerson brings up John's dealings with Cortana and Makee, saying his is not Master Chief-like behavior and, with remorse, that he may be a lost cause they are placing false hope on. Kai doesn't believe so, then requests her next order

Act III

• John briefly succumbs to Parangosky's ramen pleasantries. When he inquires on her purpose with his data, she reminds him they are less than friends, so he skips to the part about their enemy's Reach presence - not in the ramen, but on-world
• The ex-CINCONI is rather unfazed, but John elaborates regardless, while watching out for ONI's spooks in mentioning them. Parangosky slyly proclaims ONI's power over him, then gives a loaded question of inquiring his reason for fighting
• John plays along with answering, causing Parangosky to assume a bossy stance advocating ignorance. He recognizes her feint at the same time he notices two black-clad men very obviously with Parangosky
• John tells her he recognizes that her story about being kicked out of ONI is a con, and cuts ties with her. Parangosky, conceding, gestures her men to let him go

Act IV

• Vannak, in the barracks, eyes Cobalt Team's section of the Spartan board, sharing the Master Chief's suspicions
• Riz and Louis fall asleep watching a wildlife documentary portraying brontotheres

Reach/Ack Man

Act I

• James Ackerson attends to his senile father telling tales of his engineer days. They then shift topics per the son's prompt, speaking of the impending Fall of Reach
• They also alternate around the father's effort in building the bridge with Uncle Arthur and Ackerson's sister Julia, whose death (with their mother) Ackerson states
• Ackerson's father tells his son that he still has a grip on reality, and then tells him to ensure he doesn't suffer captivity by Covenant. Ackerson suits up as he hears it and leaves

Act II

• Cobalt Team's plasma-lacerated corpses are found in a forest 80 meters of Visegrád Relay verifying the Master Chief's fears. They are recovered and taken to Ackerson and Keyes, who suspect an ambush strike, their autopsy dating their fates to days before
• Ackerson declares that there are no bodies officially; Cobalt is MIA. While Keyes is mourning the losses, he accuses Ackerson of withholding knowledge of Covenant presence
• The Colonel tries to defuse the situation, arguing based on his calculations with Cortana that such an incursion was certitude, but Keyes refuses to knuckle to the idea, insisting on sounding the Winter Contingency as the other officers are aware
• Ackerson disagrees, saying it is a futile endeavor as the invasion fleet is only moments behind the strike force, but assures there is a plan to avert total defeat that will need hard choices
• The conversation falls apart when Keyes insists on staying to fight in their shared home turf and Ackerson brings up transporting essential assets off-world. The Admiral's parting words are "Go fuck yourself"

Act III

• Ackerson visits Catherine Halsey again, accosting her of guaranteeing much fragility in her own Spartans by way of the hormonal pellets ensuring blind loyalty to her cause
• The Spartan director bids farewell to Halsey, assuring her that her Spartans, despite their flaws, will be the foundation of "something extraordinary." Halsey pulls one last card: Her knowledge and treatment of his sister
• Though Ackerson is touched and leaves, seemingly affected by the confession, he comes back with one more surprise of his own: Soren, now returned to the UNSC, together with Halsey

Act IV

• Ackerson's father is relocated to a different room late at night
• Seeing as it is mere minutes before Covenant arrival, the son helps his father commit assisted suicide by pill, and deploys a Julia flash-clone to accompany his father as the last thing he sees. Ackerson departs Reach by Condor

Rubble

Act II

• Laera, while roaming the Rubble, is dragged to the cave network by Kwan Ha, who informs her of Ruby Ann's buyout of Soren's crew, who are now going after her next
• Antares and Kessler are pitting toys against each other, the latter claiming his Master Chief action figure dodged the former's Longsword barrage, when Laera arrives
• Antares promptly announces Soren's ship stream manifold is fixed - ahead of schedule as they pulled an all-nighter for Soren. Laera, seeing through the false reassurances, insists successfully on traversing alone
• The crew walk away, allowing Kwan to come out of hiding. At the port, she vents her guilt to Laera about losing her homeworld and failing her duty
• The trio proceed to blend in with the refugees to sneak their way to Soren's ship. They succeed and power up the ship to get Soren back; unfortunately, Antares hits the alert button to close off the gate, and the ship is unable to make it out
• Now trapped inside the Rubble, Laera tells Kwan to get her son out via hatch, giving her necklace as trade for boarding the transport ship Bodegraven. She begs for Kwan to protect her son, but she objects
• Laera exits the ship to confront Soren's crew. After brief chitchat, Laera incites a fistfight; although she gains an upper hand, she is overwhelmed and subdued, although Kwan and Kessler slip out successfully

Act III

• Laera, held in the ship, tells Antares it isn't too late to see reason, but he doesn't listen. Outside, Kwan and Kessler are nearly in the Bodegraven with the crowd, but stop; Kwan assures Kessler he'll see his mother again, then heads back
• Kwan sneaks inside the ship as it takes off, making a constant metal-rapping noise. Meanwhile, Laera is interrogated about the location of Soren's Madrigal treasure; it continues past a slipspace jump
• Antares, after tasking his men (except Castor) to deal with the rapping informs Laera that Soren's being held on a Reach-bound prison ship, and then complains about Soren's selfish hoarding of the treasure
• Laera laughs, explaining how it wasn't worth much, and receives a shotgun to her head by Carina. Castor interjects about Laera's taunts, and is told by his annoyed boss to deal with the noise
• Kwan slowly makes work of the crew, ceasing her rapping, and Antares and Carina has conflict over support
• The mutinous captain, exhausting his patience, locks up Laera in a chamber, suffocating her in a minute unless she spills out the treasure's location. Laera is saved after Kwan stabs Antares to death

Act IV

• Kwan, taking a moment to catch herself, taps Laera's knife on the balcony, not answering where Kessler is. She defeats Carina, the last of the crew, just as she is right behind Laera, and slits her throat
• Laera is told of her son's whereabouts, Kwan defending that it was to save her. They then plan their next course of action

Climax

• John learns from Manuela that her granddaughter is attending St. Joseph's Church. He visits just as she's nearing completion of her prayer service, then converses with Talia briefly over religious experiences
• The two speak of their Sanctuary moment, John surprised when Talia reveals she knows of Makee before unveiling her recording of the Sanctuary interference
• Talia translates the entire audio, revealed to be a prayer by Arbiter (?) Var 'Gatanai on his intentions, his pledge to destroy Reach, and to spill the "Demon"'s blood for the Great Journey and Halo
• It ends with a self-declamation as "death" personified just as the Covenant begin invading Reach, signified by the church's structure being rocked by a big explosion

Review

Pros

• The continued all-helmet shots of Silver Team, the sound and horror-esque production design of the relay intrusion scene through making the tone foreboding through that broken door and static
• Ackerson's personal stakes against the SPARTAN-II program being formed through replacing Ruwan with Julia - building her up through last ep and the scenes with his dad. Also how even Ack Man family members are willing to risk it all including give their lives for a merciful death and pissing on each other, XD
• The subtle rug-pulling of Parangosky's real standing as well as the juxtaposition of John being under red light and Parangosky being calm. I also liked the black-clad men speaking a lot through gesture alone
• The Master Chief becoming more alone than before because of his relentless pursuit for warning people of the threat - no team, no Parangosky even - just to give the one-two punch of reuniting next ep. Also, just cherry on top that this behavior is immediately talked about by Ack Man and used as indictment against him
• Of course he isn't always all-action; he takes it easy particularly at the Parangosky meet, indulging himself a little while smiling more, a handful of trade jokes too
• That callback between Antares and Kessler about the MC surviving an airstrike - TFoR much, which ironically was orchestrated by Ackerson?
• Casual and chill (apparent) gay relationship involving an ex-Spartan - brings back Randall-037 and Maria-062 memories, Ralph-103 too
• Kwan keeps lamenting her failings and her people's plight, as well as replicating the fingedoor-tapping, giving necessary weight and tension to an otherwise less-than-interesting subplot. Hope there's no obsession with this Ruby Ann
• Everything about Ackerson and Keyes' argument and the grim truths they had to face, not to mention their moral standings. Let's not forget Ackerson's diverse emotional range while confronting Halsey and being talked back about his dead sis. Long time coming was ripping through the pellets' idea
• The ending with the montage of normal lives mere minutes before all hell breaks loose, combined with the heightened tension and double EN/Sangheili speak was absolute cinema

Cons

• Not showing or even teasing how Cobalt got slaughtered. Maybe there could have been lighter suits, maybe just tease a fierce firefight, I wish they had more for a minimalist portrayal of this new ruthless Arby wiping out our deadliest weapons

Contested
I know there could be questioning on four SPARTAN-IIs - the titan of titans - getting taken down like squat, but as a potential lore/history lesson (especially as Var was probably not the only guy there):

• Thel 'Lodamee, a simple Elite Major, taking out Sheila-065 (unknown means) and almost John Rings himself in single melee combat
• Ustaf ’Nbekee blasting a II by way of the simple Needler. Daisy-023 got whacked the same way
• Grace-093 being capped by Brute Shot-toting...Brutes - not even getting to the many S-II deaths, notably some from mundane means, in First Strike and Ghosts of Onyx
• Stolt, Yapyap THE DESTROYER's spiritual predecessor. Probably was the cause of that "Spartan too wounded to continue active duty" Canon Halsey mentioned

All these examples to prove that with the myriad Covie-nent troops there are, our green toy soldiers are be Scarabs in SGTMAJ Johnson's words: Tough, but ain't invincible

Conclusion: 8.5/10

(Obligatory note this ain't final)

Review list

• Sanctuary/Sword
• Visegrád
• Reach
• Aleria
• Onyx
• Thermopylae
• Halo

Transcript

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1PDkkLWV8-GRzRUhkb8e2GFnG0QJnZ_q1RDB5ckpWRSo/edit#heading=h.r3vgbz9evmzx

Memorable quotes

“We're on our own….FLEETCOM doesn't believe the Covenant's on Reach, they just think Cobalt's missing. This is a search-and-rescue mission…but we need to be prepared for the possibility that Cobalt ran into something. … Command thinks this planet's untouchable…they haven't seen what we've seen, and they don't know what we know. I'll tell you this: We will have contact…until then…it's just us.”
“You get any closer, we're gonna have to talk about our feelings.”
“When, exactly, did you leave ONI, Admiral? … You never left.
-John
Briggs: I can't even describe the amount of shit you're in.
Kai-125: I can't even describe what's about to happen to your face.
“I carry priority orders from FLEETCOM. … To bring you in. … There is no mission, you stole a Condor. ,,, Falsified a flight plan. ,,, You're not even authorized to be in those suits right now let alone pointing a gun at my face, so stand down or we will engage you.”
Briggs: We found Cobalt Team 80 meters from the relay, they were in the trees. We observed plasma scarring in the area, I don't think they saw it coming. … How would you like to handle this? The bodies, sir?
Ackerson: There are no bodies...I would list it as MIA.
-Briggs
“We were a thousand feet up. Wind whipping, cables groaning, couldn’t have been more than 2° up there. January, you know? … I can't hold it anymore. I'm strapped in the harness, and I look down, I tell Arthur, I say “I gotta go!” What's he gonna do? … I peed on him, what could he do?”
“You know who built that bridge? … I built that bridge…me and your Uncle Arthur. The day it was finished, I walked across it with your mum…and your sister. She couldn't have been more than three. Held her little hand. She wouldn’t let me pick her up, she wanted to walk…the whole way. Yeah.”
Ackerson’s Father: So when's she coming? Your sister?
Ackerson: She's gone, dad…Julia's gone…mum too.
Ackerson’s Father: Oh.
Ackerson: It's just you and me.
Ackerson’s Father: I know that…I damn well know that, don’t-don't think that I don't know that.
-Ackerson Sr.
“You're in danger. … Not from Ruby Ann, I'm talking about your crew; Ruby Ann bought them off, they got rid of Soren. … You’re next. … You have to get Kessler and go.”
“Sometimes, it takes weeks to get here, sometimes months, some never get here at all. We left Madrigal with four ships…we arrived with one.”
“That's where they process you before you're indentured. … It's not free…nothing is free. … Most people have it worse…and sometimes, I think I deserve it; I'm being punished. ... I'm not supposed to be here, this isn't my life…I failed my responsibility to my people and my planet.”
“I'm Kwan Ha…my family...protected Madrigal for more generations than anyone can count.”
-Kwan
Antares: Are you kidding me? At this range [dodging a Longsword]? Come on, man.
Kessler: It’s Master Chief.
Antares: Yeah, it’s Master Chief in eight different pieces.
Kessler: Nope, nope, you missed.
Antares: Fine.
-Antares
Laera: You're a son of a bitch.
Antares: No…I'm an opportunist.
“I don't know what Ruby Ann promised you, but you're getting played, Antares, and it's not too late. … What you call a treasure was a box full of deuterium tokens that wasn't worth much to begin with. … Ruby Ann doesn't want the money, she wants the Rubble.”
-Laera
Keyes: Absent without leave...unauthorized deployment of weapons systems, violation of… I mean, what do you even call stealing a goddamn Condor? … I'm looking at 15 infractions of the UCMJ, one of which involves pointing a loaded weapon in the face of an officer? … Effective immediately, Silver Team is suspended from combat operations ‘til further notice.
John-117: Admiral Keyes, I know-
Keyes: You know nothing…because it's not your job to know, it's mine, your job is to follow orders!
Keyes: Did you know…that Master Chief's suspicions were valid when you sent our soldiers out into a hostile-
Ackerson: I resent the implication.
Keyes: I want to know what you knew, and I want to know when you knew it.
“This is Reach… … …home to millions of people. … This is my home!”
“I won't run. … Go fuck yourself.”
-Keyes
“[The Covenant setting foot on Reach] was a matter of time, this day was inevitable. It's mathematics, Admiral.”
“We don't get to win this one; if you send out an evacuation alert, we'll have chaos, panic. The Covenant element hit Cobalt Team days ago, we can only assume the Covenant fleet isn't far behind. There is a plan in place, but it's going to require some hard choices…I need to know that you're with me.”
“I want to share something with you, and this isn't me speaking as your superior… Sometimes, people don't get better. … Sometimes, we do more damage by holding on.”
“We're going to fight, we’re just not going to win.”
“This…is reality … we can either face it or we die.”
“I never understood how fragile they really are. … Because you made them that way. … You took them when they were children, you conditioned them, and then when they were old enough to think for themselves, you made sure they never would; you put in those pellets…so they never had to feel desire or…ambition…or preference…so they would never choose anyone other than you…and that's it, isn't it?”
“... Your efforts weren't in vain, Catherine; you won't be here to see it, but these things that you made, broken as they may be…they are going to become the foundation for something extraordinary…and I hope that gives you some comfort..in the end.”
“Don't think…for a second this doesn't cost me everything…but this…is reality, Admiral…we can either face it or we die."
“I didn't want you to be alone…I'm not a monster.”
-Ackerson
“... We're not built to sit around and wait, it's not good for us…we need to be in the fight.”
-Kai
Parangosky: You’ve always had this problem: You are not in control.
John-117: You mean not controllable.
“We have a common goal: To win the war. Don't mistake me for a friend.”
John-117: I believe the Covenant is here.
Parangosky: In the ramen?
John-117: On Reach.
“The O-N-I protects itself…make them your enemy, and it won't matter that you're Master Chief, you will cease to be useful.”
Parangosky: You fight…why?
John-117: To win…to defend our home...to…preserve humanity-
Parangosky: No…you fight because I tell you to. You are a soldier…be a soldier. This is what you will do: Go back there…go back to FLEETCOM, kiss whatever ass you have to kiss. You go do your time in the brig, smile, you'll never speak of it again, they will probably give you another medal.
-Parangosky
“I remember all of them…especially your sister. She was... She was so curious; she used to ask so many questions…but you never know who's going to make it through…the augmentation and who isn't…and she didn't. … She was dying. She didn't know why, she-she couldn't understand. I told her more or less what you just told me…that…even though she wouldn't see it, she would be this small part of…the next step forward. I don't know if she understood; she was so scared…but I do know…that she loved you very much…and I hope that…gives you some comfort.”
-Halsey
Talia: Never been in a church before, have you? People come here for comfort…for protection…for answers.
John-117: Do they find them?
Talia: Sometimes.
John-117: Do you?
“I bring you blessings…people of Reach. Know that I've come without mercy…without pity. Know that I am the instrument of your extinction. I bring this planet forth…as a burnt offering. Upon this altar…I place the head of the Demon. May his blood…mark the way to the Sacred Ring…and consecrate the Great Journey to my people. Know that I am…Var…’Gatanai. Know that I am…death.”
-Var ‘Gatanai

Recap

251X

• On a January work day, James Ackerson’s father and Uncle Arthur are hung atop an extended bridge they are working on in Reach City. The former, unable to hold his bladder, notifies Arthur on composing himself
• On the bridge’s completion day, he walks through it with three-year-old daughter Julia and his wife. Julia insists on walking through the entire bridge by herself
• Julia is kidnapped for the SPARTAN-II program

2530

• Throughout the SPARTAN-II program, Julia expresses much curiosity, which is cut mostly short by her becoming a fatality of the augmentations, a fate she doesn't comprehend out of fear
• Halsey, making a point to remember every one of her Spartans, tells Julia that she is certain to be a small part of the next step. She learns that she loved her brother a lot

2552

• The four-ship evacuation of Madrigal, through unfortunate circumstances, is reduced to one

Reach/Silver

Prologue

• Silver Team makes seven kilometers from Visegrád Sector relay. Riz-028 contacts Cobalt Team, but they hear the same static crackling from Sanctuary while receiving zip from both the team and relay
• John-117 tells Kai-125 they are completely independent due to FLEETCOM's blind response, as well as to expect Covenant. Kai expresses concern of the mission's credibility to Vannak

Act I

• Silver breaks into the relay, finding no contacts but hearing a distant echoing clank. They find leftover food, but no sign of Cobalt Team
• Talia Perez busies herself with translating the Covenant message on Sanctuary - the static. She is shocked at hearing Sangheili within, and proceeds to decipher it
• Riz restores the power, but proceeds to hear the Sanctuary static, John shutting it off. They descend into the facility and see the source - a malfunctioning door
• A UNSC contingent led by CPT Briggs corners the Spartans. The latter, with only her sidearm, approaches the Master Chief and tries to get him to stand down, only to be targeted by Kai
• The Master Chief tries to explain himself and his reasons, but the opposition is uncooperative, forcing him to disarm Briggs and open the door
• Unfortunately, all they find is a quaint corridor. Although in denial at first, Silver realizes their illegal deployment was for nothing, and turn themselves in, being charged with 15 violations of the Uniform Code of Military Justice (UCMJ)
• Silver testifies to their motives - mainly John's - leading to a scolding by Jacob Keyes to the latter. He suspends the team from battle missions
• John tries to claim legitimate intelligence from his findings, but is shut down by a flight plan projection detailing the far-off system world Cobalt was assigned to - Aktis IV, 4FRT-12SH-F074
• John is unconvinced and accuses FLEETCOM of a mission change (as the code alone implied). In response, Keyes claims psychosis from him and mandates a psych eval to clear barracks arrest; the eval will include a neurochemical process
• John is outraged and states Ackerson is involved as well for bringing all of this in, against Silver's silent and voiced protests. Keyes defends solely that he's the one thing standing before a court-martial
• The team proceeds to walk away from John, against his pleas to listen to his justifications; even Kai chides him for being erratic, citing his claims of seeing Makee. John snaps at her for not working with him, losing her attention

Act II

• Riz pays Louis a dinner visit at Danilo's flat. Being boyfriends, the latter two tease each other at what they're doing next, Danilo stating to Riz he's available for treatment afterwards, to which she clarifies she's just chilling
• Riz compliments Danilo's setup and settle for eating and drinking. She then questions Louis on what he meant with seeking a life beyond Spartan-hood; the latter chuckles
• John is escorted into an elevator by two ONI guards. Picking up Parangosky's tracker and intending to deliver the intel, he knocks them both out inside before meeting her at a ramen shop
• Kai testifies to Ackerson about the Visegrád mission's nature, partly to stand up for John as well as to give her team a shot at combat deployment
• Just after she argues for lone sortie by herself, Ackerson reveals John's FLEETCOM escape and accuses her of being in cahoots with him, bringing up her claim for John of his perfect mental fitness
• Ackerson brings up John's dealings with Cortana and Makee, saying his is not Master Chief-like behavior and, with remorse, that he may be a lost cause they are placing false hope on. Kai doesn't believe so, then requests her next order

Act III

• John briefly succumbs to Parangosky's ramen pleasantries. When he inquires on her purpose with his data, she reminds him they are less than friends, so he skips to the part about their enemy's Reach presence - not in the ramen, but on-world
• The ex-CINCONI is rather unfazed, but John elaborates regardless, while watching out for ONI's spooks in mentioning them. Parangosky slyly proclaims ONI's power over him, then gives a loaded question of inquiring his reason for fighting
• John plays along with answering, causing Parangosky to assume a bossy stance advocating ignorance. He recognizes her feint at the same time he notices two black-clad men very obviously with Parangosky
• John tells her he recognizes that her story about being kicked out of ONI is a con, and cuts ties with her. Parangosky, conceding, gestures her men to let him go

Act IV

• Vannak, in the barracks, eyes Cobalt Team's section of the Spartan board, sharing the Master Chief's suspicions
• Riz and Louis fall asleep watching a wildlife documentary portraying brontotheres

Reach/Ack Man

Act I

• James Ackerson attends to his senile father telling tales of his engineer days. They then shift topics per the son's prompt, speaking of the impending Fall of Reach
• They also alternate around the father's effort in building the bridge with Uncle Arthur and Ackerson's sister Julia, whose death (with their mother) Ackerson states
• Ackerson's father tells his son that he still has a grip on reality, and then tells him to ensure he doesn't suffer captivity by Covenant. Ackerson suits up as he hears it and leaves

Act II

• Cobalt Team's plasma-lacerated corpses are found in a forest 80 meters of Visegrád Relay verifying the Master Chief's fears. They are recovered and taken to Ackerson and Keyes, who suspect an ambush strike, their autopsy dating their fates to days before
• Ackerson declares that there are no bodies officially; Cobalt is MIA. While Keyes is mourning the losses, he accuses Ackerson of withholding knowledge of Covenant presence
• The Colonel tries to defuse the situation, arguing based on his calculations with Cortana that such an incursion was certitude, but Keyes refuses to knuckle to the idea, insisting on sounding the Winter Contingency as the other officers are aware
• Ackerson disagrees, saying it is a futile endeavor as the invasion fleet is only moments behind the strike force, but assures there is a plan to avert total defeat that will need hard choices
• The conversation falls apart when Keyes insists on staying to fight in their shared home turf and Ackerson brings up transporting essential assets off-world. The Admiral's parting words are "Go fuck yourself"

Act III

• Ackerson visits Catherine Halsey again, accosting her of guaranteeing much fragility in her own Spartans by way of the hormonal pellets ensuring blind loyalty to her cause
• The Spartan director bids farewell to Halsey, assuring her that her Spartans, despite their flaws, will be the foundation of "something extraordinary." Halsey pulls one last card: Her knowledge and treatment of his sister
• Though Ackerson is touched and leaves, seemingly affected by the confession, he comes back with one more surprise of his own: Soren, now returned to the UNSC, together with Halsey

Act IV

• Ackerson's father is relocated to a different room late at night
• Seeing as it is mere minutes before Covenant arrival, the son helps his father commit assisted suicide by pill, and deploys a Julia flash-clone to accompany his father as the last thing he sees. Ackerson departs Reach by Condor

Rubble

Act II

• Laera, while roaming the Rubble, is dragged to the cave network by Kwan Ha, who informs her of Ruby Ann's buyout of Soren's crew, who are now going after her next
• Antares and Kessler are pitting toys against each other, the latter claiming his Master Chief action figure dodged the former's Longsword barrage, when Laera arrives
• Antares promptly announces Soren's ship stream manifold is fixed - ahead of schedule as they pulled an all-nighter for Soren. Laera, seeing through the false reassurances, insists successfully on traversing alone
• The crew walk away, allowing Kwan to come out of hiding. At the port, she vents her guilt to Laera about losing her homeworld and failing her duty
• The trio proceed to blend in with the refugees to sneak their way to Soren's ship. They succeed and power up the ship to get Soren back; unfortunately, Antares hits the alert button to close off the gate, and the ship is unable to make it out
• Now trapped inside the Rubble, Laera tells Kwan to get her son out via hatch, giving her necklace as trade for boarding the transport ship Bodegraven. She begs for Kwan to protect her son, but she objects
• Laera exits the ship to confront Soren's crew. After brief chitchat, Laera incites a fistfight; although she gains an upper hand, she is overwhelmed and subdued, although Kwan and Kessler slip out successfully

Act III

• Laera, held in the ship, tells Antares it isn't too late to see reason, but he doesn't listen. Outside, Kwan and Kessler are nearly in the Bodegraven with the crowd, but stop; Kwan assures Kessler he'll see his mother again, then heads back
• Kwan sneaks inside the ship as it takes off, making a constant metal-rapping noise. Meanwhile, Laera is interrogated about the location of Soren's Madrigal treasure; it continues past a slipspace jump
• Antares, after tasking his men (except Castor) to deal with the rapping informs Laera that Soren's being held on a Reach-bound prison ship, and then complains about Soren's selfish hoarding of the treasure
• Laera laughs, explaining how it wasn't worth much, and receives a shotgun to her head by Carina. Castor interjects about Laera's taunts, and is told by his annoyed boss to deal with the noise
• Kwan slowly makes work of the crew, ceasing her rapping, and Antares and Carina has conflict over support
• The mutinous captain, exhausting his patience, locks up Laera in a chamber, suffocating her in a minute unless she spills out the treasure's location. Laera is saved after Kwan stabs Antares to death

Act IV

• Kwan, taking a moment to catch herself, taps Laera's knife on the balcony, not answering where Kessler is. She defeats Carina, the last of the crew, just as she is right behind Laera, and slits her throat
• Laera is told of her son's whereabouts, Kwan defending that it was to save her. They then plan their next course of action

Climax

• John learns from Manuela that her granddaughter is attending St. Joseph's Church. He visits just as she's nearing completion of her prayer service, then converses with Talia briefly over religious experiences
• The two speak of their Sanctuary moment, John surprised when Talia reveals she knows of Makee before unveiling her recording of the Sanctuary interference
• Talia translates the entire audio, revealed to be a prayer by Arbiter (?) Var 'Gatanai on his intentions, his pledge to destroy Reach, and to spill the "Demon"'s blood for the Great Journey and Halo
• It ends with a self-declamation as "death" personified just as the Covenant begin invading Reach, signified by the church's structure being rocked by a big explosion

Review

Pros

• The continued all-helmet shots of Silver Team, the sound and horror-esque production design of the relay intrusion scene through making the tone foreboding through that broken door and static
• Ackerson's personal stakes against the SPARTAN-II program being formed through replacing Ruwan with Julia - building her up through last ep and the scenes with his dad. Also how even Ack Man family members are willing to risk it all including give their lives for a merciful death and pissing on each other, XD
• The subtle rug-pulling of Parangosky's real standing as well as the juxtaposition of John being under red light and Parangosky being calm. I also liked the black-clad men speaking a lot through gesture alone
• The Master Chief becoming more alone than before because of his relentless pursuit for warning people of the threat - no team, no Parangosky even - just to give the one-two punch of reuniting next ep. Also, just cherry on top that this behavior is immediately talked about by Ack Man and used as indictment against him
• Of course he isn't always all-action; he takes it easy particularly at the Parangosky meet, indulging himself a little while smiling more, a handful of trade jokes too
• That callback between Antares and Kessler about the MC surviving an airstrike - TFoR much, which ironically was orchestrated by Ackerson?
• Casual and chill (apparent) gay relationship involving an ex-Spartan - brings back Randall-037 and Maria-062 memories, Ralph-103 too
• Kwan keeps lamenting her failings and her people's plight, as well as replicating the fingedoor-tapping, giving necessary weight and tension to an otherwise less-than-interesting subplot. Hope there's no obsession with this Ruby Ann
• Everything about Ackerson and Keyes' argument and the grim truths they had to face, not to mention their moral standings. Let's not forget Ackerson's diverse emotional range while confronting Halsey and being talked back about his dead sis. Long time coming was ripping through the pellets' idea
• The ending with the montage of normal lives mere minutes before all hell breaks loose, combined with the heightened tension and double EN/Sangheili speak was absolute cinema

Cons

• Not showing or even teasing how Cobalt got slaughtered. Maybe there could have been lighter suits, maybe just tease a fierce firefight, I wish they had more for a minimalist portrayal of this new ruthless Arby wiping out our deadliest weapons

Contested
I know there could be questioning on four SPARTAN-IIs - the titan of titans - getting taken down like squat, but as a potential lore/history lesson (especially as Var was probably not the only guy there):

• Thel 'Lodamee, a simple Elite Major, taking out Sheila-065 (unknown means) and almost John Rings himself in single melee combat
• Ustaf ’Nbekee blasting a II by way of the simple Needler. Daisy-023 got whacked the same way
• Grace-093 being capped by Brute Shot-toting...Brutes - not even getting to the many S-II deaths, notably some from mundane means, in First Strike and Ghosts of Onyx
• Stolt, Yapyap THE DESTROYER's spiritual predecessor. Probably was the cause of that "Spartan too wounded to continue active duty" Canon Halsey mentioned

All these examples to prove that with the myriad Covie-nent troops there are, our green toy soldiers are be Scarabs in SGTMAJ Johnson's words: Tough, but ain't invincible

Conclusion: 8.5/10

(Obligatory note this ain't final)

As the warm, golden rays of the Athenian sun filtered through the leaves of the olive trees, Socrates, accompanied by Daniel Dennett, Noam Chomsky, Jordan Peterson, and Slavoj Zizek, gathered in a tranquil garden - a setting that seemed apt for an honest pursuit of knowledge. A gentle breeze rustling through the treetops was the only sound breaking the silence in this secluded corner of nature, where five of history's greatest minds were about to engage in a philosophical journey.
The serene environment fostered a sense of camaraderie amongst this unique assembly of intellectuals, each one bringing their unique elements from different eras into the collective consciousness.
Socrates, whose classical attire stood in stark contrast with his companions' modern garb, broke the silence. His eyes shone with an unwavering curiosity as he leaned forward, his hands forming a small steeple as he rested his elbows on his knees. "My esteemed colleagues," he began in his gentle but compelling voice, "Is truth an objective tenet existing independently of our perceptions, or is it a subjective construct molded by our individual experiences?"
He let the question hang in the air, his wisdom-laden gaze sweeping over each member of the group, probing for a response. The garden seemed to hold its breath along with the philosophers, anticipation coiling tightly around them as if the very air awaited their words. And thus was set in motion their dialogue on truth - a journey that promised to unravel age-old mysteries while perhaps weaving new ones. Each had their own perspective shaped by time and experience - their words now lay claim to history as they began their exploration.
As Socrates' question came to a rest, a soft hum of contemplation rumbled through the gathering. Each man was cloaked in deep thoughts, their minds weaving through the fabric of philosophies and beliefs. It was Dennett who gently lifted the silence, his eyes gleaming behind his glasses, reflecting the late afternoon sun.
"Truth, as we perceive it," Dennett started in his characteristic calm tone, "is not a monolithic entity, existing independent of our personal experiences." His voice flowed like a gentle current, drawing with it an undercurrent of years spent poring over literature, philosophical texts and scientific findings.
"To see truth as a singular entity," he continued with a firm hand gesture as if visualizing his thoughts in thin air, "is to ignore the richness and diversity that constitute human consciousness." A leaf caught by the breeze fluttered onto Dennett's lap, briefly pausing his exposition as he observed it with quiet interest.
Drawing on his extensive work on consciousness, Dennett proposed that each individual's encounter with reality is distorted by their sensory limitations and cognitive biases—"Our perceptual faculties," he noted, "are not mirrors reflecting the world but rather lenses shaping our view of it."
Dennett leaned back against the base of an olive tree; a soft sigh whispered past his lips as his gaze traveled across the faces of his fellow thinkers. He concluded, "Thus, my friends, I would argue that our comprehension of truth is intrinsically bound to our subjective experiences and our cultural contexts."
The garden lay in a silence borne not from disbelief but admiration. Each thinker was caught in the grasp of his eloquent words—his nuanced exposition on truth had introduced them to a labyrinth of perspectives, promising deeper introspection as they journeyed further into this exploration.
As Dennett's words resonated in the quietude of the garden, a stream of sunlight fell on Chomsky, casting his thoughtful visage into sharp relief. He waited for a moment, allowing Dennett's interpretation to settle before presenting his stance.
"With utmost respect to your point of view, Daniel," Chomsky began, the soft rustle of leaves accompanying his authoritative yet respectful voice, "I propose a different perspective on truth." His hand traced invisible patterns in the air as he spoke, each motion eloquently echoing his words.
Chomsky relied deeply on his profound understanding of linguistics to traverse the complex landscape of truth. "Just as all human languages share a fundamental structure – an inherent grammar – so too could we hypothesize the existence of universal truths, grounded in innate cognitive structures that transcend cultural variability and subjective experiences."
He continued, gazing at the distant horizon, as if searching for the right words in the dance of the sun sinking into the earth. "Doubtless, our perceptions and understanding are influenced by our individual experiences and cultural contexts," said he, acknowledging Dennett's perspective. "However, this does not exclude the existence of objective truths - those that are rooted deeply within our shared humanity."
The atmosphere teetered on the edge of hushed reverence as Chomsky spoke. His thoughts cast wide ripples through the calm waters of their contemplation, elevating their conversation from mere words into a symphony of divergent philosophies.
With these diverging opinions placed gently on the philosophical table, a stage was set for an enriching exchange - one that promised to reveal remarkable insights into the intricacies of truth. As each viewpoint melded with another, it became evident that truth was not merely a concept but a tapestry with threads from different doctrines weaving a complex pattern.
As Chomsky's words gradually dissipated into the peaceful serenity of the garden, a visible tension coursed through each man, their minds a carnival of converging and diverging philosophies. Peterson, whose watchful silence thus far had belied his swirling inner thoughts, began to stir.
Leveraging his experience as a clinical psychologist, Peterson interjected eloquently into the discourse. "While I agree with the significance of both personal experiences and universal cognitive structures in shaping truth, I believe we must not discount the role of personal responsibility," he asserted, his voice passionately settling over the folds of silence gently enveloping them.
Peterson's eyes sparked with a profound intensity as he delved deeper into his perspective. Leaning forward slightly, he entwined his hands as if fusing together different streams of thought, "In our pursuit of truth," said Peterson, "each one of us is personally responsible for probing the boundaries of our beliefs, confronting the chaos and suffering inherent in life."
He paused for a moment, allowing space for his words to resonate within the gathering. Such was Peterson's unique style—his speech unfolding like a well-thought-out novel that leads readers through moments of calm before jolting them with sudden insights.
"Truth-seeking is not a passive engagement but an active, soulful journey—a crucible for personal growth and self-reflection," he added fervently, each word amplifying the echo of his previous thoughts in their minds. As Peterson concluded with a compelling stare that dared them to ignore the potency of personal responsibility in unearthing truth, it was clear that his impassioned speech had significantly deepened their understanding of the various facets that this elusive concept may entail.
With the exchange reaching new depths and uncovering personal paradigms along with broader philosophical perspectives, the tranquil garden seemed more alive than ever—the sun's rays, now having a golden tinge, the silently nodding trees, the sighing breeze, all seemed to be engrossed in this dialogue of intellects.
"Esteemed interlocutors," began Zizek, adjusting his glasses, "Have we considered the possibility that so-called 'objective truth' is but an illusion? A meticulously constructed puppet show put on by the wielders of power? By incessantly seeking truth, aren't we simply dancing to the tune dictated by power structures?" His voice reverberated in the peaceful confines of the garden, ruffling the previously calm atmosphere.
Socrates, usually measured and composed, seemed taken aback. His bushy brows furrowed in puzzlement as he processed Zizek's argument. The leaves rustled gently, adding a soothing hum to Zizek’s challenging discourse.
Dennett, ever the pragmatist, countered: "But Slavoj," An edge in his voice wafted around as he set forth his thought. "Are you proposing an absolute denial of objective truth? Isn't there a higher reality informed by our scientific understanding?"
Zizek responded provocatively, gesturing with intense fervour towards the azure sky. "Indeed, Daniel," he retorted, "but wasn't it science itself that led us to redefine truths countless times across history, once claiming earth centric universe and later a heliocentric one? Is that not a telling sign of how insidious power is at shaping our reality?"
Peterson leaned forward in earnest attention. His sharp gaze rested on Zizek. Shadows shifted around him as the evening sun dipped lower in the arresting panorama that was their sylvan surrounding.
"Slavoj," he said slowly. "I think I understand your perspective," Peterson allowed his words to hang in the quietude following Zizek’s declamation. "But how does that reality make free-will a veritable option? Doesn’t it almost imply determinism?”
As Peterson's query rang out, illumination from the sinking sun spilled across them, bathing the tranquil garden in alpenglow. Caught in this enchanting moment, the thinkers reflected on their stimulating discourse, their minds brimming.
As the day approached its end, Chomsky spoke thoughtfully, "The pursuit of truth undoubtedly spawns a labyrinth of confusion and contradiction. But I suppose it's these very complexities that drive us, isn't it?" His words, spoken softly but resonating with quiet conviction, encapsulated the session's essence.
Zizek smiled at the remarks, nodding his head in approval. "Precisely, Noam," he stated simply.
Socrates closed the dialogue, his words floating across the cooling air: "In our search for truth, we must uphold intellectual humility, ever questioning and thirsting for understanding."
As the lanterns flickered to life under the burgeoning night sky, Socrates and his companions rested in silence. They partook in untold reflections ignited by Zizek's challenge to objective truth, their minds yet abuzz in anticipation for what lay ahead in their shared philosophical journey. The tranquil garden offered an idyllic tableau under the twinkling stars - a symbol of their own relentless quest for illuminating truths in deep cosmos of uncertainties.
As the night unfurled its celestial robe over them, highlighting the emerald hues of the tranquil garden, Socrates took center-stage again. His wisdom ignited the conversation further, orchestrating a dynamic exchange.
"Socratic inquiry thrives on participation," he began. "I invite you all to respond fearlessly and honestly to our shared reflections." The seasoned philosopher's encouragement breathed new life into their dialogue.
Fueled by Socrates' call to engage, Peterson took up the argument first. "While biases are inevitable, they must not blind us to other perspectives, individual or societal. One can see truth through many lenses."
Chomsky agreed thoughtfully. "Our cultural and personal biases undeniably influence our perception of truth," He looked at each participant deliberately. "Yet intellectual rigour can help in recognizing and overcoming this, paving the way for a more rounded understanding."
Dennett widened the scope of their discourse by dragging science onto center stage. "Science repeatedly revises its truths, shedding its own prejudices," His words cut through the night like a scalpel. "It is here that we see a practical demonstration of how we continually grapple with hints of truths within our grasp."
Zizek permitted himself a short laugh. "Ah, but there is an allure to those elusive facets of truth that evade our understanding, isn't there?" His voice painted sardonic fascination among them.
They continued delving into their perspectives on truth. Diverse and even contradictory at times, their views tangled, traded blows, and intertwined, giving birth to profound insights. Despite their variant beliefs about truth's nature and our ability to comprehend it, an undercurrent of unity ran through their conversations. And that was respect for the pursuit of knowledge and recognition of its often serpentine path.
Socrates concluded the chapter by summarizing their thoughts elegantly in his gentle voice, "Truth's pursuit takes us on unexpected detours, serenading us with siren songs of simplicity yet challenging us with profound complexity. As seekers, we must appreciate the journey – fraught with alterations – as much as the goal."
The garden was left in the rich silence of contemplation, the subtle chirping of crickets weaving through the heavy-ending dialogue. As darkness crept deeper into the corners, the lanterns filled the space with twinkling warmth, echoing the enlightened souls encircling it.
Their vibrant conversation had painted a multifaceted canvas of truth: complex and ever-evolving in its beauty. Each participant, washed in the glow of intellectual exchange, was eager to unfurl more layers of this enigmatic entity in the chapters to come. The readers too were stirred, their minds humming with thoughts provoked by this roundtable of wisdom, yearning for what was yet to unfold.
As the dialogue resumed beneath the tranquil embrace of the garden, Socrates turned to his companions with a serious gaze that hinted at the profound nature of his forthcoming inquiry.
"Observe, my dear friends, the vast power wielded by words in our societies," he began, his voice resonating in the quietude of the evening. "They shape our thoughts, beliefs, and actions. They can uplift and enlighten, but they may likewise confuse and manipulate."
He paused, allowing his thought to percolate through the minds of his fellow philosophers.
“Consider now,” Socrates finally proposed, “the role of falsehoods, deliberate misinformation, propaganda, and ideologies that harm rather than heal. What responsibilities do we, as lovers of wisdom, bear in promoting truth and combating these threats?”
Dennett, with a thoughtful frown, spoke first. "Our societies are indeed complex webs spun from countless narratives. Truths can be elusive, but misinformation is undoubtedly insidious – it obscures reality and sows discord. As scholars and intellectuals," he glanced towards the others as though drawing them into a secret pact, "I believe we bear significant responsibility in discerning truth from falsity and promoting clear, verifiable information."
Chomsky nodded in agreement. "Indeed," he interjected, "I think our duty extends beyond merely discerning and spreading objective facts. We must also shed light on how those lesser truths - you know them as misinformation or propaganda - take root in society. Identifying false ideologies for what they are forms part of our ethical commitment.”
Peterson chimed in, furrowing his brows pensively, “Our responsibility isn’t just to the truth. We must also consider to whom that truth relates and how it’s told. Our aim should not simply be to refute harmful narratives but to provide tools enabling people to scrutinize information critically."
Zizek, stroking his beard thoughtfully, added another layer to the discussion. "We need to remember that power structures also play a role in shaping what is regarded as truth. Isn't it often that those who control information shape the narrative, making truth elusive and multifaceted? Thus, our responsibility may well be to question the status quo constantly.”
A hush descended on the group as they weighed Zizek's words. Socrates, with a satisfied nod, concluded this part of their dialogue: "Your thoughts give us much to ponder. If words hold power over society, then those who wield them most truthfully indeed bear a grave responsibility. The pursuit of truth in society," he said as he glanced at each of his companions in turn, "is evidently entwined with ethics.”
As the echo of Socrates' words subsided in the garden, Jordan Peterson leaned forward, a determined look on his face. He cleared his throat and addressed the small gathering.
"I'd like to weave some threads into the cloth we're spinning. Open dialogue - meaningful, respectful conversation," he began in earnest, "is instrumental in combating the spread of harmful narratives."
The others shifted their attention to him. He was a psychologist by profession, and the human element of their discussion seemed to ignite a special fire in him.
"Do we not grow when we are challenged?" Peterson continued. "Isn’t it when our firmly held beliefs are examined, unraveled, and in some cases uprooted that we make space for new understanding – for truth? Therefore, would it not behoove us to not only engage in such dialogue ourselves but also to facilitate it within society?"
Dennett stroked his beard thoughtfully, considering Peterson's assertion. Zizek cocked an eyebrow, intrigued despite himself, while Chomsky absorbed Peterson's rhetoric with seriousness. Socrates couldn’t hide a content smile at the expansion of the conversation.
Peterson took their varying degrees of acquiescence as encouragement to continue.
"Allow me to insist on a crucial point: the responsibility for truth is enormous! It lies with each one of us. It is not merely the domain of academia or those given platform; it belongs to every man and woman in every sphere of life.”
"Our true challenge," he added, leaning back and resting his gaze on each of his companions, "is encouraging society at large to embrace this personal responsibility: questioning narratives, seeking facts relentlessly, and then employing wisdom before embroidery in social cloth any piece of information.”
A silence enveloped the group as Peterson's impassioned plea for individual responsibility resonated in the air. The lantern light danced over their contemplative faces as they considered the weight of what was being proposed - that the pursuit of truth was not an intellectual luxury but a fundamental responsibility integral to the health of society itself.
With this part of the dialogue reaching its conclusion, it was clear that their journey into understanding truth's complex dimensions was only just beginning.
In sharp contrast to the earlier silence, a cricket began singing its nightly serenade. As a melody echoed across the garden, Noam Chomsky leaned in. His distinct voice resonated with gravitas born from a life of deep thought and activism.
"There are beasts lurking in our sea of information, my friends," he began, eyes reflecting the flickering lantern light. "I speak of propaganda, that cunning creature which warps reality, obscures truth, and manipulates minds all too subtly."
His words hung heavy in the tranquil garden, the gravity acknowledged by every pair of eyes focused attentively on him.
"These are the tools of those in power," Chomsky continued, "Twisting narratives, molding public opinion, and redefining what is accepted as truth." He paused momentarily, before adding more ominously. "In the haze of such manipulation, our society dances on a thin line between informed democracy and manipulated populace."
Peterson shifted uncomfortably under the weight of this reality, arrowing out its true mark with precision. Dennett nodded solemnly; he knew well the double-edged sword of information. Zizek offered a ghost of a smirk- recognition of a subject he wrestled with often enough himself. Socrates remained immutable; after all, meet any complex reality he did with stoicism and wisdom.
The silence shattered as Chomsky resumed: "Our role as intellectuals thus graduates from simply seeking the truth to striving for discernment. It is our duty to distinguish genuine information from propaganda and to ensure that public opinion remains unmarred by those seeking control.”
His tone softened as he addressed his peers again, "While we all harbor personal and political views, they must never cloud our commitment to the truth. We owe it to society - nay, to humankind - to bring clarity where there is confusion, to shine a light upon the obscured truth."
With these words, the magnitude of their roles in the vast cosmos of knowledge seemed almost daunting, and the challenge placed upon them - to resist manipulation, to seek and speak truth bravely, unwaveringly, even when it's inconvenient - had never been so starkly emphasized nor profoundly accepted.
The night deepened; the cool air under the garden canopy stirred with the resonance of their discussions. As though the moon too was waiting with bated breath, its silver luminescence cast an ethereal glow around Slavoj Zizek as he broke his thoughtful silence.
"I wonder," he rumbled, affecting a thin smile while he toyed with the challenge of accepted perspectives. "Is there truly anything we might call an 'objective truth'? Is this not a chimerical pursuit distracting us from understanding the inherent intertwining of power and truth?"
He met the eyes of his startled companions, finding a curious delight in their thoughtful expressions. Zizek's bold proposition seemed to reverberate through the stillness, disturbing the concentric circles of their dialogue with ripples of radical thought.
Outlining his perspective further, he continued, "What we often consider objective truth is merely a narrative - one molded by power structures and influenced by collective ideologies. Truth is elusive," he echoed Chomsky's earlier sentiment, "and it transforms through the lens of our cultural, personal and sociopolitical contexts."
Dennett frowned from across the circle. He wrestled internally with Zizek's words, viewing them through the lens of his experience navigating cognitive sciences. Peterson seemed lost in thought, wrestling with Zizek's perspective against his stance on personal responsibility. Chomsky appeared thoughtful, likely considering the alignment between his warnings about propaganda and Zizek's claims concerning power and truth.
Stroking his chin nonchalantly, Zizek concluded his provocations: "I suggest that we remain deeply skeptical and ever-inquisitive. It could well serve us to question continually the existence of objective truth and critically examine our biases that result from existing social structures."
A shiver ran down Socrates' spine. He realized they were venturing into turbid waters stirring old questions about truth's nature. The philosopher couldn't help but marvel at the grueling, yet exhilarating, intellectual ascent they had undertaken under the night's watchful eyes.
Socrates starts the conversation with a question, as is his habit: "We have discussed the nature of truth, the role of power in shaping reality, and our personal responsibilities in seeking and disseminating knowledge. Now, I wonder, what are the ethical implications of spreading knowledge? Are there truths that should not be told?"
Dennett ponders the question momentarily before answering, "Perhaps it is not so much about withholding truths but contextualizing them. Intellectuals must accept the responsibility inherent in sharing knowledge. We influence how people perceive reality. Consequently, we should ensure we do not contribute to harmful misunderstandings or misconceptions."
Peterson adds his thoughts to the discussion. "We must strive to speak the truth even if it causes temporary discomfort. Persisting with deception or avoiding difficult conversations can lead to a much deeper harm over time." His voice is firm yet encouraging, reassuring his interlocutors of his convictions.
Chomsky interjects thoughtfully, "Yes, truth can indeed be uncomfortable. Yet, as intellectuals, we must understand the potential harm certain information could cause if misused or misinterpreted. Perhaps we carry a responsibility to tread carefully in such matters." A bird chirps in the distance as he finishes speaking, its song resonating in the serene garden.
The provoking Zizek counters, "But who decides what information should be withheld or expressed with caution? Should it be the intellectuals or those in power?" He chuckles lightly, challenging both his contemporaries and the ancient philosopher.
The dialogue is becoming a lively debate and Socrates calls for calm, "Let us remember our pursuit—truth. Ethical implications must not discourage us from that pursuit. Instead, they should caution us to consider the impact of our words and actions on others."
As they continue to discuss into the thickening night, their voices intertwine with the rustling sound of wind-swept leaves underfoot. The loquacious group venture down the complex path, their conversations illuminating the garden with flickers of laughter, intense disagreements, thoughtful silences, and profound insights.
With the dimly-lit lanterns swaying softly in the balmy night breeze, the flickering shadows dance upon philosophical ideas that now lie cast in a new light; for this night, at least, the seekers of truth retire to contemplate, leaving readers eager to join their discourse once again in the following chapters. Their words echo amidst the tranquility, a testament to their passionate quest for truth.
Socrates, his sage demeanor a beacon amidst the competing rhetoric, takes the proverbial reins, "My friends, we find ourselves at disparate ends on many aspects of our dialogue, and yet we are bound in our pursuit of understanding. Let's delve into these depths and seek to find common ground." His voice, steady as a current in the midst of a storm, ushers forth a newfound sense of unity amidst the too familiar garden soundscape.
Dennett starts again after taking a nourishing gulp of sweet Athenian wine, "Very well, Socrates. Let's say that as intellectuals, we agree to bear the responsibility of truth-telling and to be conscious of its consequences."
Peterson leans forward in agreement, his gaze focused and intense. "Yes, this entails seeking truth diligently but with humility, for we might err. It also involves fostering open dialogue with respect and patience."
Chomsky interjects next, his words precise and determined; a voice sharpened by years of rigorous intellectual battles. "And we must strive to discern fact from fabrication, even when it challenges our pre-existing assumptions and confronts systemic deceit."
Zizek grins and gestures flamboyantly. "Well said! We should scrutinize not just the projected tales of those in power, but also the unspoken truths that lie buried amidst societal contradictions."
Socrates nods in agreement as he absorbs their points. The garden remains calm under the silver Athenian moon, filled with the symphony of cicadas that form an underlying rhythm to their conversation.
Their discourse flows freely, mirroring the harmony of intermingling currents in a vast river. Despite diverse perspectives, they unite under the ethical weight of their shared intellectual journey—committed to pursuing truth while respecting its power to transform.
"We have engaged in rigorous introspection and dialogue," Socrates conveys thoughtfully. "In this quest for truth lies a profound responsibility and ethical duty. Let us not forget the potential consequences and the inherent complexity of our endeavors."
The garden, once filled with grappling ideological conflicts, now hums with the subtle harmony of shared understanding. The lanterns flicker relentlessly, casting long thoughtful shadows that sway rhythmically between the ancient philosopher and his modern companions, a silent reminder of their shared wisdom and commitment to their intellectual odyssey.
​

Note: I used google translate to translate a lot of the Swedish sources that I link to. Apologies for any translation errors, but I have 0 talent for languages.
Hello everyone, I am back again with another weird post. My last writeup was very, very, heavy, but I have a funnier, lighter, story for you all today. Enjoy!
What is the Lord of Rings? And who is J R R Tolkien?
The Lord of the Rings (or LOTR) is a series of fantasy novels by J R R Tolkien. It was published from 1954-1955. In total, it has sold over a 150 million copies and has been translated into over 50 languages. There is also a prequel, The Hobbit, published in 1937, a collection of stories/spinoff/am unsure what it is exactly, The Silmarillion, published in 1977, and a bunch of other books.
I am not going to explain the plot or lore of LOTR. If I did, this writeup would be fifty times as long. I am only going to stick to explaining relevant things.
The author, J R R Tolkien, was a very, very, smart man. He was a professor at the University of Oxford for many years. He was also a noted philologist (someone who studied languages). He created all of the languages in LOTR. It was actually something of a personal hobby for him.
So, Tolkien knew his shit. Therefore, any translation of LOTR that came out during his lifetime would be subject to his careful scrutiny…and disappointment if it did not meet his standards. Oh boy.

Part 1: 1959-1972: The Fuckup of the Ring

LOTR in Sweden
In 1947, The Hobbit was translated into Swedish. This was notable because it was Tolkien’s first book to ever be translated into another language.
The book was called Hompen. Yes, Hobbit=Hompen.
Tolkien did not like it:

I wish to avoid a repetition of my experience with the Swedish translation of The Hobbit. I discovered that this had taken unwarranted liberties with the text and other details, without consultation or approval; it was also unfavourably criticized in general by a Swedish expert, familiar with the original, to whom I submitted it.
May I say now at once that I will not tolerate any similar tinkering with the personal nomenclature. Nor with the name/word Hobbit. I will not have any more Hompen (in which I was not consulted), nor any Hobbel or what not.

In addition to Hompen, Bilbo became Bimbo, elf became älva, and goblin became svartalf.
Tolkien also hated the illustration of Gollum:

the picture of Gollum in the Swedish edition of The Hobbit makes him look huge.

Here is the illustration.
Personally, I think it looks pretty cool, but it’s not Gollum. It’s more of a ghost/nightmare demon.
Tolkien also hated the first ever translation of LOTR, into Dutch, published in 1956.
But the worst was yet to come.
In 1959, it was announced that LOTR would be getting a Swedish translation. The translator was a man named Åke Ohlmarks. Like Tolkien, he was also a philologist. He was an experienced translator. He had had translated many prestigious works into Swedish before LOTR. Among them were the works of Shakespeare, Dante, and the Qur'an.
So, he sounds like the perfect person to translate LOTR, right? WRONG!
Instead of doing a straight translation, Ohlmarks decided to take some creative liberties with the text:

Never have I undertaken such a tribulation and more scrupulously entered into an interpreting task than here. I first made a careful smooth translation of the entire book and then radically rewrote it, all the while guided by an aspiration to seek to portray a living fairytale world [...]

The irony was that he disliked the hobbit and had come very close to disliking LOTR too:

..from the first fifty-sixty pages "The Fellowship of the Ring" seemed to be written in the same spirit [i.e. of The Hobbit]: a pure nonsense-fairy-tale to suit the little ones, with an endlessly long account of a boring birthday party... I gave up even before the end of the long-drawn-out chapter about "A Long-expected Party"...

But he continued reading it (he did have a job to do!) and fell in love the trilogy. He became a massive fan of Tolkien, and decided there was no higher praise than butchering ahem reimagining his magnum opus.
The translation
Ohlmarks awful translation came in two flavours: nonsensical names and mangled mistranslations.
There are too many fuckups to list here, but I will note some of the major ones.
Nonsensical names, (directly quoted from here):

Rivendell becomes "Vattnadal" [Waterdale], probably because Ohlmarks thought that "riven" had something to do with "river"
Esgaroth becomes "Snigelöv" [archaic: Snail leavings], most likely because Ohlmarks was thinking of the French word "escargot" which means "snail". Nobody in Middle-earth speaks French of course.
The ent Quickbeam becomes "Snabba solstrålen" [Swift Sunbeam] because Ohlmarks did not make the connection that all ents have names relating to trees. Sometimes he uses a short form, "Snabbis" [Swiftie], for which there is no support in the original text.
Shelob's Lair becomes "Honmonstrets lår" [the She-monster's Thigh]. The only explanation I can come up with is that the Swedish word for "thigh" is "lår" (pronounced "lawr"), which bears an extremely superficial resemblance to "lair".
But the name problem does not end there. In his eagerness to come up with ingenious Swedish versions of the names, Ohlmarks more often than not forgot what version he had used earlier in the book. The record-holder, in terms of greatest number of alternatives in the smallest space, is Isengard, which in the first volume is rendered as "Isengard", "Isendor" and "Isendal" within the space of four pages! Indeed, the first two of them occur within the same paragraph! And by the way, in the second volume a fourth term, "Isengård", is introduced, which is then used in the rest of the text in an uncharacteristic display of consistency. It should be noted, however, that this error has been corrected in the latest reprint; now it is "Isengård" throughout.
The inconsistent translation of names also seems to suggest that Ohlmarks did not read all three volumes before starting to translate them. The river Entwash is named "Slamma flod" [approximately: Muddy River] on the map in the first volume, while Celeborn later on calls it "Bukteån" [approximately: Bendy Stream]. Only in the second volume, where the reader is introduced to the word "ent", do we get the more correct translation "Ente älv" [Ent River].

Mangled mistranslations (directly quoted from the same link):

Ohlmarks also wreaked havoc with Tolkien's style. Tolkien's style is very laconic and simple compared to, say, Lovecraft - one of Sweden's leading fantasy critics, John-Henri Holmberg, compares it to that of the Icelandic sagas. This, evidently, did not suit Åke Ohlmarks. Ohlmarks preferred a more poetic, hyperbolic style, laden with adverbs, adjectives and unusual and archaic synonyms. Where Tolkien preferred words of Old English origin over Latinisms, Ohlmarks used foreign loan words that were stylistically out of place. Where Tolkien used "inn", Ohlmarks wasn't above using "corps-de-logi" (French again!) instead of the far more appropriate, all-Swedish "värdshus". Where Tolkien in one instance used "lost", Ohlmarks used "biltog", which is so archaic it appears in no modern dictionaries; it actually means "outlawed" and thus is a very bad translation for "lost".

Compare the following examples, from the original vs Swedish (translated back into English):

For morning came, morning and a wind from the sea; and the darkness was removed, and the hosts of Mordor wailed, and terror took them, and they fled, and died, and the hoofs of wrath rode over them. (The Lord of the Rings 871)
For it was the morning that came, the morning and the breeze from the sea, and the darkness failed and the armies of Mordor whimpered and wailed as terror took them and they fled and fell and the many thousand hooves of galloping wrath trampled them and rode over them. (Sagan om konungens återkomst 130)
'Slam the doors and wedge them!' shouted Aragorn. (The Lord of the Rings 341)
Close the doors and wedge them! thundered Aragorn's commanding voice. (Sagan om ringen 383)
OT: "'Ha! ha! What does we wish?' he [Gollum] said, looking sidelong at the hobbits. 'We'll tell you,' he croaked. 'He guessed it long ago, Baggins guessed it.'" (The Lord of the Rings 645f).
ST: "'Ho ho ho, yes! What is it that we want?' he [Gollum] asked and looked from the side at the hobbits. 'We will tell you that,' he croaked. 'He guessed it long ago, Baggins here guessed it.'" (Sagan om de två tornen 263).
OT: "According to the Red Book, Bandobras Took (Bullroarer), ... was four foot five and able to ride a horse." (The Lord of the Rings 14).
ST: "According to 'the Red Book', the 'bullroarer' Bandobras Took, ... was between four and five foot tall and was even said to be able to ride a normal horse." (Sagan om ringen 15).

There are hundreds more mistakes in the text. But by far the most egregious one came at the end of the third book, when Eowyn killed the Witch King.

OT: "Then tottering, struggling up, with her last strength she [Éowyn] drove her sword between crown and mantle, as the great shoulders bowed before her."
ST: "Staggering he [Merry] straightened up and summoning his last strength he drove with an incredible chop his sword right between the crown and the mantle as the broad shoulders bowed down toward her." (Sagan om konungens återkomst 135)

Yes, in a weird alternate Swedish universe, Merry kills the Witch King.
Full list of translation errors here and here.
Ohlmarks did get some things right. For instance, Middle Earth became Midgard and Marigold (Sam’s daughter) became Majagull Ringblom (keeping the reference to flowers and the colour gold). He also changed Hobbits to “Hobs” and “Hober”, a vast improvement from Hompen. Tolkien approved of all of these minor changes, but not much else.
Also, Ohlmarks translation did receive an initially positive reception in Sweden. Critics lavished praise upon it, calling it “magnificent” and “inspirational”. Tolkien may not like it, but Swedes did (for now).
Don’t piss off the author
Tolkien made his feelings about Ohlmarks translation very clear in numerous letters to his publisher:

A letter in Swedish from fil. dr. Åke Ohlmarks, and a huge list (9 pages foolscap) of names in the L.R. which he had altered. I hope that my inadequate knowledge of Swedish — no better than my kn. of Dutch, but I possess a v. much better Dutch dictionary! — tends to exaggerate the impression I received. The impression remains, nonetheless, that Dr Ohlmarks is a conceited person, less competent than charming Max Schuchart (Dutch translator) , though he thinks much better of himself. In the course of his letter he lectures me on the character of the Swedish language and its antipathy to borrowing foreign words (a matter which seems beside the point), a procedure made all the more ridiculous by the language of his letter, more than 1 / 3 of which consists of 'loan-words' from German, French and Latin.
It seems to me fairly evident that Dr.O. has stumbled along dealing with things as he came to them, without much care for the future or co-ordination, and that he has not read the Appendices† at all, in which he would have found many answers. ...

-Letter 204

Dr Ohlmarks, for instance, though he is reported to me to be clever and ingenious, can produce such things as this. In translating vol. i p. 12, 'they seldom wore shoes, since their feet had tough leathery soles and were clad in a thick curling hair, much like the hair of their heads', he read the text as '... their feet had thick feathery soles, and they were clad in a thick curling hair . . .' and so produces in his Introduction a picture of hobbits whose outdoor garb was of matted hair, while under their feet they had solid feather-cushion treads! This is made doubly absurd, since it occurs in a passage where he is suggesting that the hobbits are modelled on the inhabitants of the idyllic suburb of Headington.
Who is Who is not a safe source in the hands of foreigners ignorant of England. From it Ohlmarks has woven a ridiculous fantasy. Ohlmarks is a very vain man (as I discovered in our correspondence), preferring his own fancy to facts, and very ready to pretend to knowledge which he does not possess.

-Letter 228
Tolkien also hated the awful foreword that Ohlmarks added to the first book. In it, Ohlmarks got basic facts about Tolkien’s life wrong, as well as the themes of LOTR. My favourite part is that he thought Sauron was an allegory for Stalin:

Here the personification of satanic power, Sauron (perhaps read, in the same 'partial' way: Stalin) rules. From here, the magic rings are distributed as rewards to great men, who have sold themselves to the darkness (the nine black horsemen, read: Paulus, the German atomic experts and 'the missing diplomats'). From here come the terrifying nocturnal terrorists on their black horses, merciless masters of the art of cold torture, the 'third degree' (read: GPU and Gestapo). From this abode of darkness, the unwilling creatures under the power of Mordor, a Bill Orb, a Skeletøgat (read: home Bolsheviks and World War II fifth columnists) are ruled.

Yeah WTF.
If you want read a proper takedown of the foreword, Tolkien himself wrote a scathing one in 1961. He eventually got it removed from Swedish copies of LOTR.
But Tolkien’s anger didn’t stop there. He was so, so, so, upset by the horrible Swedish and Dutch translations of LOTR, that he wrote a book called “Guide to the Names in The Lord of the Rings” in order to ensure that future translators did not mess up his work.
Despite his terrible translation, it’s clear that Ohlmarks had great affection for LOTR and respect for Tolkien as a writer. He was severely devastated by the authors harsh rejection. Even so, he continued translating Tolkien’s works into Swedish (I don’t know if it was because of a contract or if Tolkien couldn’t stop his Swedish publishers, but Ohlmarks ended up translating another 6 books).
But the worst was still yet to come.

Part 2: 1972-1984: The Two Translators

The Wrath of Christopher Tolkien
In 1972, Ohlmarks published a biography on Tolkien called Sagan om Tolkien (Swedish: The Fairy-tale of Tolkien or The Tolkien saga). I haven’t been able to find much information about it, but I don’t think it was authorized by Tolkien or his estate. I wouldn’t be surprised if, just like the earlier foreword, it was full of mistakes about Tolkien’s life.
In 1973, J R R Tolkien died, leaving his son, Christopher Tolkien, as his literary executor to publish his remaining works. This included The Silmarillion, which was published in 1977. In 1974, Ohlmarks went to England and visited Christopher. Overall, the meeting went well. Christopher graciously complimented Ohlmark’s translation of LOTR and even showed him some of the then-unpublished The Silmarillion.
Ohlmarks left the meeting feeling inspired. He went home and started work on a new unauthorized book, a preview of The Silmarillion based on the material Christopher had kindly shown him. He even wanted Christopher to write an introduction about his family and home.
After a while, he sent a preliminary copy of the book to Christopher. Christopher wasn’t too enthused by this and replied with a disapproving letter telling him to stop.
Ohlmarks found this letter “insulting”. In his eyes, he had done much for Tolkien’s legacy in Sweden and was a therefore a true LOTR fan. His translation was a tribute, not an insult. Although, he abided by Christopher’s wishes and did not publish his preview of The Silmarillion.
I think that it’s likely a miscommunication arose between them, because of the language barrier.
But Christopher’s harsh words did not diminish Ohlmark’s love for Tolkien or LOTR. In 1976, he published a “Tolkien Lexicon” in Sweden. Another Swedish writer, Ingvar Svensson, claimed that it had over 6,000 errors. In 1977, he published his own lexicon in response to Ohlmark’s version.
In 1977, Humphrey Carpenter published “J. R. R. Tolkien: A Biography”. Unlike Ohlmark’s book, it had been authorized by the Tolkien family and was thus a much more faithful account of the authors life. It mentioned Tolkien’s distaste for Ohlmark and his translation, as well as Christopher’s anger at the unauthorized Silmarillion book.
Ohlmarks responded:

What is the real purpose of Christopher Tolkien, via Carpenter's typewriter, emptying a bucket of slops over my head? Is this happening only because I sent him a small well-meant manuscript, or part of it, in a photostat copy in order for him to give his opinion about it, to send word whether he thought I could print it or not? Is it really possible to show greater respect? Had I sent him a finished copy I could probably sympathize with him. But now? Ohlmark’s fury grew when it was announced in 1977 that The Silmarillion was getting a Swedish translation, and that Christopher had only authorized it on the condition that Ohlmarks was not involved in it in any way.

In the end, The Silmarillion was translated into Swedish by Roland Adlerberth. By all accounts, he did a fantastic job. He did retain many of Ohlmark’s names but handled the text and flow of language much better. He also translated many of Tolkien’s other works into Swedish until the end of the 1980s.
Ohlmarks love for Tolkien turned to hatred. He had to take action, make Chrisopher pay, So, what did he do?
Write another book.
In 1978, he published “Tolkiens arv” (Swedish: The Legacy of Tolkien). The back of the book is pure gold:

ÅKE OHLMARKS has spent twenty years of his life introducing Tolkien in Sweden, translated nine works by and two on him, and also written the first biography on Tolkien in the world and created the only Swedish lexicon on Tolkien. On top of that, he has given lectures and established the national Tolkien Society.
After the death of Tolkien in 1973, Ohlmarks has been given a shameful treatment, to say the least, by Christopher Tolkien, the literary executor of his father's unpublished writings. The whole history, and especially the relation to the son of Tolkien, is here given an account which nearly amounts to a detective novel.

He also insulted The Silmarillion:

One thing a god-given fiction writer of Tolkien's high class must not be: boring. "The Silmarillion" is definitely a boring book. If I had it translated, I would have had to, in the name of loyalty, beat myself up in order to mask this boringness as far as possible in the Swedish translation. I had sought to vary the stereotypical style of declamation and did my very best to develop the small approaches to excitement there are.

Arson and black magic
In 1982, Ohlmark’s house burned down. Instead of accepting it as an accident, he claimed it was arson and blamed fans of Tolkien and LOTR.
What did he do to take revenge? Write another book of course!
Published in 1982, it was called called “Tolkien och den svarta magin” (Swedish: Tolkien and the Black Magic). Again, the back of the book was gold:

It has come to attention that, especially during the last years, the multitude of Tolkien societies (thousands in America, and not a few in Sweden) have degenerated to a kind of KU-KLUX-KLAN with a worship of open violence, crude orgies, alcohol and drug abuse. Murders have been committed, recurrent cases of assaults, kidnapping and desecrations of churches and sacraments.
Åke Ohlmarks, the man responsible for the translation and introduction of Tolkien in Sweden and who is also internationally recognized as one of the foremost experts on Tolkien, reveals in this uncanny book how far it has evolved even in our country.

Y-I-K-E-S
This description did not even scratch the surface of the delusion and paranoia in the book. For one, it was dedicated to Edmund Wilson, one of Tolkien’s harshest critics. In the foreword, Ohlmarks also referred to LOTR as “Tolkien’s trash” and “the damned thing”.
In his eyes, the first book of LOTR was now just as bad as The Hobbit:

The first book [Book 1 of LOTR] is poor rubbish for children and tells almost exclusively of a lengthy, tiresome birthday party among the 'creatures' called hobbits... These hobbits... make pretty boring reading... Tolkien invented his hobbits in a miserably bad fairy-story as early as 1937 ... [LOTR] is the naive folk-tale, painted in black and white, at its worst...

One chapter was called “The half-witted old man Tolkien” He also insulted Tolkien’s philology skills:

The old man John Reul was in many respects an odd character and by no means without faults. He believed he had mastered practically every language in the world, including... Swedish. Sure enough, with the help of dictionaries he could passably spell his way though a Swedish text... But he lacked every sense of the nuances of Swedish words, which did not stop him from tyrannically dictating what everything was going to be called in Swedish...
However, he regarded my independence as an insolent criticism of his omniscience and never forgave me. The fact that I have given nearly forty lectures about him and his work and ... that for twenty years I have done more than anyone else to spread Tolkienism in the whole of the Nordic area did not bother him at all.

Other outrageous things he claimed:

Tolkien was a closet Nazi sympathiser, at least before the war. The basis for this erroneous claim was that many leading German philologists had been members of the Nazi Parti during the war, and Tolkien was a philologist. Also, the character Saruman, who had been on the side of good but turned to evil, was "obviously" based on Hitler. And the name "Saruman" was obviously the same as "SA man" with a Germanic "Ruhm" in the middle meaning "honour". (Ohlmarks does not, however, mention that he himself spent the years 1941 to 1945 teaching Swedish at the university of Greifswald. Which, by the way, is in Germany.)

Side note: Ohlmarks had actually been accused of being a Nazi earlier in his career but denied the allegations.

The Tolkien Society is a huge international conspiracy or mafia bent on world domination, and anyone who tries to go up against them will be quietly "silenced".
Tolkien fans are degenerate people who are contemptuous of the noble working class, abuse alcohol and drugs, indulge in kinky sexual orgies, beat up old people, sacrifice children, and worship Satan.
Tolkien was a bad writer and the good parts of The Lord of the Rings must have been written by C. S. Lewis.

He thought that LOTR was a forgery. Chiefly that the Hobbit and The Fellowship of The Ring were written by Tolkien, while a different, better, author aka Lewis wrote the rest of the books:

.. because it could definitely not be him [Tolkien]. If it were, the entire academic exercise of "philological determinance of authorship" would be worthless. ... there are fundamental discrepancies in style, vocabulary, syntax, narrative technique, story-telling, visionary power - everything

In addition to the book, Ohlmarks also ran a campaign of harassment against LOTR fans and the Tolkien family. He did numerous interviews with various newspapers and radio shows, further insulting Tolkien and his legacy.
Åke Ohlmarks died in 1984. Sweden wouldn’t get a new translation of LOTR for another 20 years.
2002-2005: The Retranslation of the King
By the early 2000s, the reception to Ohlmark’s translation had become much more negative:

In 2000, the author Leif Jacobsen [sv] of Lund University's Institute of Linguistics, noting among other things the confusion between Eowyn and Merry in the Battle of the Pelennor Fields, wrote that "There can be no doubt that the Swedish translation is defective and in many ways a failure". Jacobsen argued that where Tolkien was writing for adults, Ohlmarks translated for children. Further, in his view Ohlmarks seemed to be trying to make the text his own, supplanting Tolkien rather than directly translating him. In 2004, Malte Persson wrote in Göteborgsposten that the translation was "so full of misunderstandings, misconceptions, inconsistencies, and arbitrary additions that it must mean that Ohlmark was either significantly worse at English than Icelandic, or that he had not taken the assignment seriously". Also in 2004, Anders Stenström, known as Beregond, stated that the translation contains numerous factual errors, mistranslations of idiomatic expressions, and non-sequiturs.

In 2002, it was announced that LOTR would be getting a new Swedish translation. The translators were Erik Andersson and Lotta Olsson. Andersson would handle the prose while Olsson would handle the poetry. Notably, neither of them had read the books. Of course, they used Tolkien’s guide, but they also had help from a group of twelve Swedish LOTR fans to act as fact checkers.
The project drew a lot of attention. The translators were invited to numerous talk shows and interviews with newspapers.
As for what they thought of Ohlmarks translation, Anderrson was very forthright:

As a creation in its own right it is excellent, even if it does not always follow Tolkien; you have to be modest when you criticise careless mistakes and such. And many people will probably be disappointed in my version. It is like the Bible: you’ve got used to older editions and even if the translation is wrong you don’t care.

The new translation came out in 2005. It received a very positive reception. It was seen as a massive improvement on Ohlmark’s mess. Andersson and Olsson did use a few of Ohlmark’s names for certain subjects, such as the well-received Midgard for Middle Earth, but redid most of the text. Their translation was much more faithful to Tolkien’s original style. Some Swedish LOTR fans were so thrilled that they invited Andersson to a 3 day celebration, dubbed him a knight of Tolkien, and awarded him prizes.
It did receive some criticism. Full breakdown here by Charlotte Strömbom of the University of Gothenburg in Sweden. She goes much more into the nuances of the translation and highlights some of its flaws.
Here are some of the differences between all 3 translations. More of them are on Wikipedia.
In 2007, Erik Andersson worked on a Swedish translation of The Hobbit, which was published that same year. He also published a diary about his experiences translating LOTR, called Översättarens anmärkningar (“Translator’s notes”). Here are some excerpts from it.
Meanwhile, Dutch fans of LOTR are still waiting for a new translation.
Thanks for reading!

The working class must not constitute itself a political party; it must not, under any pretext, engage in political action, for to combat the state is to recognize the state: and this is contrary to eternal principles. Workers must not go on strike; for to struggle to increase one's wages or to prevent their decrease is like recognizing wages: and this is contrary to the eternal principles of the emancipation of the working class!
If in the political struggle against the bourgeois state the workers succeed only in extracting concessions, then they are guilty of compromise; and this is contrary to eternal principles. All peaceful movements, such as those in which English and American workers have the bad habit of engaging, are therefore to be despised. Workers must not struggle to establish a legal limit to the working day, because this is to compromise with the masters, who can then only exploit them for ten or twelve hours, instead of fourteen or sixteen. They must not even exert themselves in order legally to prohibit the employment in factories of children under the age of ten, because by such means they do not bring to an end the exploitation of children over ten: they thus commit a new compromise, which stains the purity of the eternal principles.
Workers should even less desire that, as happens in the United States of America, the state whose budget is swollen by what is taken from the working class should be obliged to give primary education to the workers' children; for primary education is not complete education. It is better that working men and working women should not be able to read or write or do sums than that they should receive education from a teacher in a school run by the state. It is far better that ignorance and a working day of sixteen hours should debase the working classes than that eternal principles should be violated.
If the political struggle of the working class assumes violent forms and if the workers replace the dictatorship of the bourgeois class with their own revolutionary dictatorship, then they are guilty of the terrible crime of lèse-principe; for, in order to satisfy their miserable profane daily needs and to crush the resistance of the bourgeois class, they, instead of laying down their arms and abolishing the state, give to the state a revolutionary and transitory form. Workers must not even form single unions for every trade, for by so doing they perpetuate the social division of labour as they find it in bourgeois society; this division, which fragments the working class, is the true basis of their present enslavement.
In a word, the workers should cross their arms and stop wasting time in political and economic movements. These movements can never produce anything more than short-term results. As truly religious men they should scorn daily needs and cry out with voices full of faith: "May our class be crucified, may our race perish, but let the eternal principles remain immaculate! As pious Christians they must believe the words of their pastor, despise the good things of this world and think only of going to Paradise. In place of Paradise read the social liquidation which is going to take place one day in some or other corner of the globe, no one knows how, or through whom, and the mystification is identical in all respects.
In expectation, therefore, of this famous social liquidation, the working class must behave itself in a respectable manner, like a flock of well-fed sheep; it must leave the government in peace, fear the police, respect the law and offer itself up uncomplaining as cannon-fodder.
In the practical life of every day, workers must be the most obedient servants of the state; but in their hearts they must protest energetically against its very existence, and give proof of their profound theoretical contempt for it by acquiring and reading literary treatises on its abolition; they must further scrupulously refrain from putting up any resistance to the capitalist regime apart from declamations on the society of the future, when this hated regime will have ceased to exist!
Political Indifferentism, Karl Marx Written: 1873; Translated: from the French by Bignami; Source: The Plebs, Vol. XIV, London 1922; First Published: 1874 in the Italian, Almanacco Repubblicano per l'anno 1874;

what doesn’t work
a pastiche underlain with inconsistences
the bane of life
ineffectual simulations
masquerading
as real
why does a face reveal so much ?
it must be the way the brain makes it hang together
dynamic and static
moving and still
both convey
injury
emotional or physical ?
both disable
blood pours from one
the other, invisible
except to the brain
hilarious, these catwalk models are taught to put one footstep in the same line as the other to swing the hips, lol, but look at how the designer waddles
anna netrebko singing solveig’s song with the prague philharmonia
soaps
schizophrenia
all feeling
rationality
drops into a hole
lost
huike’s cutting off his forearm
the height of absurdity
why don’t they get the conclusion
the rest is absurd as well
idiots cover the earth
this much is obvious
ed. a well known zen "case"
there is something
there is nothing
better plum for something
because we are something
nullity is too hard to live
the utter blank
of being in front of the keyboard
and not able to remember the password
declamation versus question
the idiots declaim
intelligence questions
i neither liked nor understood beethoven’s große fuge
but reading sylvia plath’s poem helps with understanding it
addiction
it ends
in contempt
for the substance
and
its
effects
a long
way from
the glamourization
of the start
a distance
it
is
necessary
to travel
sorry
no
shortcuts
soaps
a world too female
a rollercoaster of emotional insanity
the joy of the traumatic
is not for me
starless and fatherless
sylvia’s dream of black water
sense escapes sense
i pity the misery
since it isn’t mine
but all the same
its true
there’s something very disturbing about chinese culture and its the right of the powerful to inflict injury without retribution
straight stockhausen syndrome, it permeates everywhere
a more fractioned life
continuous disjunction
mine
what is wearing
is the hostility
of the prosaic world
to any form of artistic thinking
self destruction
beauty is rife with it
or the feeling at least the reality
can be a bit hard to take
there’s a lot of art with people in that hits the liminal space imo, for example nighthawks and actually everything edward hopper paints is in this area
people seem to assume i’m a natural born sucker, fortunately, usually i’m not and can deal with them
a good talk on why the current situation with china is not a cold war

I,14F,was a student with very high grades till 7th grade (95%) Now I'm in 9th and it's just pure chaos. I was a bright student with a burning Passion for extra curricular activities such as debates, recitations, declamations etc. Now all I see in the mirror is a person and student who is failing in both academics and personal life miserably. I can't focus on anything now, I tried focus music (40z and meditation shit) I sleep through that 💀✋. My nights are all like a big blank movie glitch. Nothing goes in my brain and I'm unable to learn ANYTHING. my mid term exams are coming up and I feel extra demotivated. I have become impulsive af and I do anything without any second thought. This has been a reason for me saying very out of pocket things to some of my friends because I just can't help but utter all that trash. But I don't have anyone to talk to about this and it is honestly burning me from inside. I tried to talk to my mom about this as I've been studying abt ADHD and impulsive thoughts, short attention span etc. I tried to tell her and she was like it's all because of that goddamn phone. I don't know why I'm writing a para this long, I just wanna vent. I can't anymore. A few days back, due to my impulsivity, i accidentally cut myself. My mom saw it and started to shout at me. I can't do this shit anymore man. I just wanna go somewhere and bury myself. Sorry if you feel uncomfortable reading this.

To make a long story short, I am studying Latin, using the pre-1868 system of Eton College. More specifically 1766 to 1840. This involves rote memory, recitation of declensions, conjugations, lines, declamations, and speeches, construing, and versification. It took me three years to gather all of this information, but I present it to you now. I am a beginner (first form) so I am in no way a teacher. All books are free and in the public domain. Below is the link to my journal entry containing the syllabus, for those who are interested. Books range from beginner through advanced.
https://dandylover1.dreamwidth.org/99443.html

Hello esteemed Shakespeare subreddit!
Would anyone be so kind as to give me feedback on this? I recorded myself declaming "Angels and ministers of grace defend us," from Hamlet; his lines when first seeing the Ghost in Act 1.
https://youtu.be/7loZQFhZdbA
I'm making a project where basically I want to see if one can (forgive the redunancy) "see" the meter in Shakespeare through audio-analyzing software. I've talked about this before in this subreddit. The idea is to get a number of people to declame a short passage from Shakespeare, with emphasis on the clarity of the words and especially on the meter. I will aggregate different versions of the same passage to see how much one can observe the meter or other patterns through the program's visual interface (I'm going to use Praat or possibly Raven). some people think I might not find anything because of the immense difference in interpretation any given person's version will have compared to the rest. But I say, well, it's still English. People speak different dialects of English but they're mutually intellegible because it's still the same language. My theory is that Shakespeare's lines have inherent melodic qualities, or put another way, inherent auditive aestheticism.
Another aspect of this project is producing short audio capsules where I talk about the oral-aural experience of Shakespeare and about the approach to performance that emphasizes Shakespeare's lines as poetry more than as dramatic lines.
Furthermore, I'd really appreciate feedback on the basic setup I have planned for the first capsule, as well as on the general idea of aggregating different versions of the same passage to observe the results..
One question I have for the community is: what do you think of my choice of passage for building the initial experiment on? Having others declame this same passage from Hamlet. I chose it because I find it a very urgent section of the play, which I think lends itself towards some homogeneity, as I believe will tend to declame it with similar urgency.
But I'm open to suggestions as to other parts of any of Shakespeare's plays that mind lend themselves more towards this lyrical experimentation/analysis.
Here's the planned outline for the audio lesson:

1. Starting with the audio of “Angels and ministers of grace defend us"; possibly starting with two or three versions in a row to set the theme.
   
2. Introduction to prosody in general
   

a. Comparing prosody to music
b. Examples of different languages having different ways to create poetic patterns.
c. Poetry is characterized by rhythmical patterns (Oxford Dictionaries, 2013)
d. English-language prosody
e. Shakespeare's prosody

1. Audios of actors (Marlon Brando in Mark Antony, Kenneth Branagh in Henry V, others) performing Shakespeare in a declamatory style (this is subjective obviously).
   
2. Talking about Rhythm and Meaning in Shakespeare and quoting academics on the value of the approach that relies on prosody and meter for performing Shakespeare.
   
3. Bring up the software experiments.
   
4. Possibly converting the different versions, including the final aggregated synthetic version, into music with DDSP to further observe results and effects on listeners.
   

Thank you everyone in advance. Any feedback of any kind, even if it's to excoriate me, is appreciated.
Also, for early next year I will be looking for volunteers that would like to record a very short declamation (around a minute) of this passage or whichever I end up using. So if anyone would be interested you can contact me via private message any time (again, I'll only be using the audios until next year).
Cheers!

One of the conflicts revisited time and time again in the Raven Guard novels is the dichotomy between Curze and Corax - two sneaky Primarchy obsessed with justice and vengeance. Corax maintains he and his legion wage "clean" war, while Curze rages that Corax used nuclear fucking weapons to subdue his homeworld while Curze is condemned for murdering people on Nostramo
In Corax's Primarch novel an Imperial expeditionary fleet requests assistant from the Night Lords. They have been negotiating for 6 months with a chain of human worlds which have now sent Imperial envoys back with their tongues and hands removed. The Imperial Army wants the Night Lords to intimidate them into compliance but instead Corax is sent to resolve the situation.
Corax declares he will wage a clean war and conquer through minimal bloodshed by using deceit, infiltration and picking off the leadership opposing the Imperium. Arch-Comptroller Agarth, the most anti-Imperial leader instead inflicts his own city with a gas that turns humans into little more than blood crazed beasts. The Raven guard suddenly have nowhere to hide, no human agents to use and are stuck behind enemy lines. Corax is forced to authorise overwhelming force against innocent civilians and his casualties skyrocket. Faced now with either aiding the Imperial Army in a large scale war, or tracking down Agarth who escaped Corax withdraws his entire legion and dedicates them to hunting Agarth, causing heavy Imperial casualties for the soldiers now fighting without Astartes support.
Agarth is found on a base near a sun and the Raven Guard infiltrate it and disable it's engines, causing the base to accelerate rapidly into the sun. Despite his desire for a clean war Corax then engages in some behaviour a little more similar to how the VIII may have done things from the start.
I have included Corax's rationale and anger before the mission too.

‘If we are not there to support them, they will struggle. With us at their side, we can end this quickly before the cities reach optimal firing situation. Without us–’
Corax’s pale white face leaned towards his old comrade in arms, interrupting him. ‘Agapito, Agarth has denied us the opportunity to show convincing force. He has escaped. If we allow Agarth to go free, we will undermine the Carinae Sodality’s understanding of Imperial justice. The elite will see themselves free of consequence, the populace will despair that we cannot save them. We cast ourselves as saviours from tyranny and the bringers of civilisation to all men. We lie if Agarth does not face justice. Those who commit outrage cannot be allowed to escape. We will hunt him down and destroy him.’
Ephrenia stood from her station at the deck strategium. ‘Forgive me, my lord. We should think about what Agapito says. Perhaps we should discuss this in private?’ she said.
Corax’s eyes narrowed. Those around him reacted uneasily. It was not normal for a mortal to address a primarch so bluntly. ‘Whatever you have to say to me, Ephrenia, can be said in front of all. Unless you dare not.’
She smiled at him sadly. Ephrenia had been with Corax since the moment he had been freed from the ice, deep inside Lycaeus. Few knew him as well as she did. They both knew she did not wish to embarrass him. They both knew she would not let that stop her. ‘My lord,’ she said. ‘The expeditionary fleet is struggling to contain the united forces of the Sodality. If we do not aid them, we will give the Sodality time to better coordinate their efforts at resistance, and the war here will drag on for months. Their fleet is waiting for an opportunity. If we break now, they will attack Fenc’s position.’
‘She’s right,’ said Branne. ‘I hate to let him go, but we have to strike now. Listen to Fenc, for the love of the crusade. Agarth is one man. Thousands of lives are at stake. We have to finish them now.’
‘Do you, Branne, dare to question my command. I am primarch–’
‘And we’re just the brats of prison scum?’ interrupted Branne. ‘A child I was when we first met, but no more. For thirty years I have fought at your side. We have known you since we all were children. I know you are wrong. Your plan was sound, but it has failed. This desire to pursue Agarth is driven by emotion. We must follow Fenc’s lead now.’
‘Do not address me this way, Branne,’ said Corax. He put some of his inner potency into his words. As a creature of the shadows, rarely did Corax allow his innate majesty to show through his studied human guise. Nothing outward changed, but a sense of immense might radiated from him.
Branne flinched from his lord’s revealed glory, but pressed on. ‘I will not be quiet, when you lead us into disaster. Corax, I am speaking to you as your friend.’
‘You will be silent!’ demanded Corax. His voice thundered. This time, he had no disagreement. ‘The oppressors of the weak can be shown no mercy,’ said Corax. He stared at his attendants, leaving them with no doubt of his resolve. ‘This is what the crusade is for. To raise men up and save them from the likes of Agarth. He must be punished for his genocide, or the freedom we bring to this system will be hollow indeed. Hunt him down, and make him pay.’

[Agarth's base in infiltrated and cast towards the sun]

A sole voice gabbled, that of Agarth, broadcast over the vox into the bridge, and sent on to the remaining cities by the Saviour in Shadow’s communications staff. Nearly four hours had passed since the Moritat had returned to the Tenebrous. Four hours of pompous declamations of the sovereignty of the Thousand Moons and ranting denunciations of the Imperium. All the while the temperature aboard the station increased. For short periods, Agarth was silent, but then his anger or his fear would get the better of him and he would begin anew. Corax ordered no one to reply. Similarly, the multiple requests for remote audience sent by Admiral Fenc went unanswered. The business with Agarth must be concluded first.

...

A yellow flame burst upwards from the station, hardly visible against the greater fires of the sun. As the station began to break, so did its master. Agarth’s speech suddenly changed.
‘Please!’ he said, his voice distorted by the sun’s mighty electromagnetic roar. ‘Please, I understand what I did was wrong. I should have listened. I should have given your proposal the attention it deserved. If you rescue me, I promise we shall return to negotiations. I can speak with my fellow lords of the Thousand Moons. The Sodality has seen your might, my lord. We can reach some accommodation. I can be a powerful ally to you!’
He went on in this vein for a few minutes, continuing without pause even when men began to scream in the background. The station glowed so brightly in the thermal image its shape was lost. Through the oculus it became hard to see, for the colour of the hull was changing to match that of the sun.
‘It is time,’ said Corax. He stood from his throne, and bade the hololith be activated. ‘Arch-Comptroller Agarth,’ he said. ‘I stand in judgement of you not as a conqueror, but as all moral men must stand in judgement of tyrants wherever they are encountered.’
‘Please, listen to me!’ Agarth attempted to speak back, but Corax’s voice rode the arch-comptroller’s words down, trampling them into nothing.
‘When we arrived here, you were among the most vocal in defence of this system’s right to govern itself. In support of your arguments, you cited the defence of the people against outside tyranny as being supreme in your duties as a leader. And yet, when faced with certain military defeat, rather than surrendering and saving the lives of those you were bound to safeguard, you destroyed their minds, turning them into unreasoning creatures simply to stall my warriors’ advance. You murdered hundreds of thousands of people to prevent your death. And yet here we are. Your end was inevitable. You are dying, arch-comptroller. As the temperature rises within your refuge, and your flesh roasts upon your bones, you shall see why this had to be done. The Emperor of Mankind sent out His crusade to save humanity from creatures like you. You, at least, will remain aware of what fate awaits you, unlike the poor souls you condemned to mindless hunger to save your own worthless life. This judgement of fire I pronounce upon you, Arch-Comptroller Agarth. I made a promise that mine would be the last face you should see. It has come to pass. So shall all oppressors die by my hand.’
‘Curse you! Curse you and your Emperor! I curse you forever. Why should we be slaves when we were emperors already? Why should… Why…’ Agarth made a choking sound, and began to scream.
‘You reveal your true colours, as all men will when faced by death,’ said Corax. ‘Goodbye, arch-comptroller.’
For an entire minute Agarth screamed. The channel growled with stellar interference, but his screaming remained audible until, with a pathetic flare of yellow fire no more mighty than a spitting candle, the station burned up.
‘It is done,’ said Corax. His crew looked to him. ‘Order the Legion away from the sun. Signal Admiral Fenc and inform him the Raven Guard will join the battle. Send messages without cypher. Broadcast Agarth’s last three minutes on constant loop throughout the system. All these petty lordlings will rue the day they declined the Emperor’s generosity.’
The sun’s blazing ocean moved as the prow of the Saviour in Shadow swept around with gathering speed, replacing orange fire with ink-black void.
‘Let them know I am coming.’

...At the same period, the largest economics of Europe, including countries which are G7 members, and the people of which shows max high level of support and empathy to Ukraine people and military forces, unfortunately were silently turned to political hostages by their #1 persons, who, as it becomes more and more visible, are in some hidden forms of classified connections to Kremlin, and in such connections, as we are getting understandings with every new day passes, having the same characteristic. In terms of algorithms programming, this characteristic could be described as “linking type - “master-slave” connection, where the Putin has “master” role on his port, and the great european countries top-politic(s) is connected with a “slave” role port”. Thinking about “slaves” Political motivation is a very Anna rewardable job because the number off potential reasons is such a variable that in process of them investigation It is hard to not go into multiplying their number, and to tell the truth as to know the motivation of slaves is not the sink which we have to exit mine deeply. Only serves to state that some motivations and reasons exists, maybe them differs from “slave” to “slave”, Who is the specter of such difference starting from the bribery and corruption actions and finishing with Someone’s meta-history vision of the future having trapped in assonance amplitude to putin’s vision... I don’t care, why they do what they do Meaning the real actions which could be recognized as a fact which is already in fact (Sorry for my English it is not very reach of appropriate phrases for such a hard talk). And the scope of such facts as for today is: Russia : imperialistic country who is raven season in its military doctrine, Who is the last leaders change happened more than 20 years ago. Super powers: 1) Using of dr. Hebels’s methods of “the bigger lye is to be believed quicker than smaller”; 2) The knowledge researched in a last 20 years that Western politics and leaders of opinion is likely such a good targets for bribery and corruption, as the native one. Germany: Boston burial country wish in the previous century l demonstrated First level of revanchism in couple with very strong Wish to extend its territory and spheres of Political control by ensuring independent neighbor countries . Being defeated in the world war second by the union of English-speaking countries and Soviet Union, Germany had change a little bit in social believe That Reich Was defeated by Gentalmens but most of all by Russia is the main force and biggest state unit of Soviet Union, without any correction on that fact that Ukraine was a second largest state unit of USSR, which territory in WW2 was 100% under occupation of naz-fash countries coalition forces (in compare of occupation of less then 10% of modern russia federation territory and for much more short time period) , and the humans losses of Ukraine people (from 9 to 15 million persons) comparing to RSFSR losses is at the same proportion as the part of Ukrainians in all Soviet military forces, in other words it is much more than the half of the number of Russian people died and Russian soldiers fought at that war. The evidence of this fact is could be simply find it in a recent declamations off German establishment in connection to the speech about reasons oh Phils promises to give to Ukraine German weapons in which it was declared that German afraid to hurt historical memory of Russian people by showing near their borders or even on their territory German tanks again as it was nearly 80 years ago. In Ukraine we love more after hearing this bullshit. If Ukrainians whose parents was on the occupation of German thongs you drink nearly 4 years in law century much more than the Russians so if Ukrainians can you leave who is it I’m not afraid for hurting their historical memory then you can be sure that Russians will survive such a kind of historical memory hit Even more Successfully then Ukrainians, So there is no reason to afraid dear herr Sholtz. The next facts about German is: 1) loooong history of Germans finding Themselves in the role of “slave” connection to the “master” port situated in Moscow Kremlin. 2) there is a trail of preparation of German establishment which good proof that German blend the current situation much earlier than the war started. Universe preparation it was decided that their card for Exchange is a pipe project which German who is comfortably play in any table for example if the game wars that Russia takes Ukraine under control in the first week open version then German leader demonstrating the great Germans role young offensive to put integration will stop participation in it while no one by project and no one would blame German because it’s a very highly expensive investigation made by German government and business which is now lost and no one any not shorted by Magnus political on good want to eat to have such losses for his country sounds good but we losing from if you the other hand off reserved and in our account he has Ukraine with its own five system activated by Russia and the senseless of sacrificed by German large investigations in the well known Pipe. Big ass will come through the cranial system and the losses of investments will be compensated by the price on gas which Russia promised to divide phonetoo or maybe I’m free for Germany so if you years and all money would be returned and father is A lot of pure profit and Much more higherhigh investment interest. But if the game will go search it it is go now then of course will know when five project will be close to bath in this situation the chance to return in the station is not sore reliable Seoul Ukraine have not to be a winner in the war and this is publicly called by German consulate as the Russia could not be a winner. By the way a couple days ago in the Deutsche Welle side in them episode about Angela Merkel public presentation after a long time she was out of public life there was a little detail which shows a lot. Two journalists or experts on this topic which dialogue was in the lysing they’re showing reportage had spoken that the Angela Merkel unsure public presentation hell even write clear message which on opinion on these two guys use Is there only real honest truth off that they called how it feels to be in German interest so in German interest is the situation in which no one wins no the rush of no Ukraine let this wonderments kill each other the next 20 years the German Will only grow in this case and not giving to grow and you’re off fighters countries 3. Next facts about Germany recently they cancel Schultz declared that he will sign some papers and the budget off Bundeswehr will be raised to unbelievable amount he said as far as I remember 100 billions Yura it’s twice bigger than the Russian military budget everyone do not mention to on this declaration because cancel shorts is a well-known liar for . What is the German in the secret contract with Russia and maybe who is Elsa 2X imperial countries which the last century five on the side of field Ralph I mean Eataly and collaborated part of France regional shows the same position as the Germany what if these four players which is struggle much we just historical memory is short muchBecause of loss of Vero ancient power is a big empire great countries which mow inventiveness war could even lose their preposition great country connected to them because they did nothing effective to prove that there is some power in Europe which is able to stop such a so what if these four musketeers Italy France Germany and Russia decided that in miles to play in democracy in Europe it’s time to divide Europe on for parts and to concentrate locally on esports forgetting about globalism USA Naruto and Psalm wait America fight you the Pacific Ocean versus China is big will be only better for weeks for mosquito. Oh sorry I have forgotten about the Constancia the lower of dirt and young or maybe Shoals I mean the angrier and auburns each store every little but the very corner at eC imperial country wish to his ambitions to reach out to its glory I think in this for part of Europe young would be the social toilet The verse great fourth will be peeing and laughing

Hundreds of delegates and hundreds more spectators packed the halls of the Chicago Coliseum in anticipation of a historic convention. Among the candidates were the incumbent President, the party’s 1896 candidate, the former Acting President, two Congressmen of stature, and a famous war hero, leaving no clear favorites in the convention. Maneuvering began immediately as the different factions of the party, pro- or anti-Miles and Progressive or Stalwart, vied for influence over the convention by securing convention chairmanships and speaking positions. With the divisions in the party so evenly balanced, it is perhaps of little surprise that the resulting patchwork favored no one and displeased everyone. Something of a foul mood hung over the convention as it began to hear the nominating speeches for every candidate, and the stage was set for the beginning of the balloting.
For an overview of the candidates, see the poll post for this convention.
The Presidential Balloting
The first ballot of the convention produced a shocking result that none of the campaigners were truly ready for. Although Theodore Roosevelt’s draft movement was expected to do well thanks to his stature as a former New York Governor and heroism during the war, few expected that he would emerge as the frontrunner with well over a third of the delegates supporting him. This stunning result immediately presented a quandary for the anti-Miles movement within the convention. LaFollette and Lodge held strength in their home regions, Garfield had the backing of the Ohio delegation as a favorite son, and U’Ren had a smattering of support from a variety of delegates, but even with their votes combined they would fall short of a majority. In the face of Roosevelt’s popularity, the only realistic option would be to back him for the nomination to prevent Miles from securing it. However, the anti-Miles leaders were highly skeptical of Roosevelt due to the “Bull Moose” being a professed admirer of President Miles and vigorous supporter of the dubious measures employed by General Sherman Bell in suppressing the IWW. Thus, the anti-Miles coalition decided on a strategy of stalling as Henry Cabot Lodge offered to draw on his personal friendship with Roosevelt to encourage him to withdraw from the race and endorse one of the remaining anti-Miles candidates.
​

Candidate	1st	2nd	3rd	4th	5th	6th	7th	8th	9th
Nelson A. Miles	192	193	194	194	190	188	189	189	189
Henry Cabot Lodge	133	133	133	132	130	126	131	131	130
James R. Garfield	47	47	47	47	47	47	47	47	47
Robert M. LaFollette	189	190	191	189	187	185	189	191	189
William Simon U'Ren	73	72	71	71	70	73	72	73	74
Theodore Roosevelt	347	346	345	348	357	362	353	350	352
Julius C. Burrows	1	1	1	1	1	1	1	1	1

The anti-Miles candidates were successful in maintaining discipline among their ranks as telegrams made their way to Roosevelt in Tennessee. After the 9th ballot, Roosevelt’s response had come in a sealed message, and his associate Gifford Pinchot took the stand to deliver the Bull Moose’s remarks. Pinchot delivered the remarks as something of a declamation, winding his way through Roosevelt’s scathing denunciations of the machine politicians who had for so long blocked reform in the country and the Populist movement which had torn the nation asunder. This was met with both raucous cheers and raucous jeers depending on the inclinations of the delegates, but a silence was cast over the convention as Pinchot reached the end of the message. Roosevelt formally declined the nomination, and Pinchot grew visibly pale as the convention waited with bated breath to hear Roosevelt’s endorsement. This did not arrive until the final line: “I only recognize one President of the United States, and his name is Miles!”
The convention immediately erupted into chaos, as the Miles delegates broke into celebrations while the President’s opponents scrambled to find a new candidate to rally behind. Ultimately, these efforts would be in vain, as the next ballot was called for before the anti-Miles coalition could agree on one candidate to unite behind. President Miles, on the coattails of Roosevelt’s endorsement, secured a bare majority of the delegates, sending his opponents within the party into hysterics. Lodge himself was quoted as saying: “I’ve lost a good friend today.”
​

Candidate	10th
Nelson A. Miles	492
Henry Cabot Lodge	138
James R. Garfield	151
Robert M. LaFollette	187
William Simon U'Ren	13
Julius C. Burrows	1

The Vice Presidential Balloting
However, the battle was not yet finished and Miles’ opponents hoped to at least score a victory somewhere on the ticket. Former Acting President U’Ren, the only candidate with nothing left to lose, agreed to carry the banner for the anti-Miles faction in the Vice Presidential contest. However, the Roosevelt draft once again pressed for their candidate to appear on the ticket and handily defeated U’Ren on the first ballot. No longer directly challenging Miles, Roosevelt agreed to accept the Vice Presidential nomination. U'Ren was handily defeated in the first ballot, with some anti-Miles delegates who disliked the rest of his politics defecting to Roosevelt.
​

Candidate	10th
Theodore Roosevelt	589
William Simon U'Ren	393

The National Union Ticket
For President of the United States: Nelson A. Miles of Massachusetts
For Vice President of the United States: Theodore Roosevelt of New York

Demographics: Male, South Asian, 1st Generation International Student.
Intended major:

 1st choice= Computer Science 2st choice= Psychology 3st choice= Gender & Sexuality Studies 

Coursework:
GPA: 3.69 uw on scale of 4, I am doing A levels and for 11-12 grade I have 4 a level subjects and 4 regular subjects and for 9-10 grade I completed O levels for 8 subjects. School does provides gpa stuff.
Grades=> 12th one A+ (in CS) , 6As( in Psychology, Physics, Robotics, International Relations, Journalism, Drama Theater) and a B(in Maths) same for 11 grade

 9th-10th : one A+(in CS) 2 A (in English, Islamiyat/Religious Studies) 4 B (in Physics, Chemistry, National Studies, Urdu/language) one C (in Maths) 

No APs
Testing: Applied without tests as all of the colleges gave exemption
Honors:
1-Elected as Young Member of a prestigious research organization in appreciation of participation in their research competition. (International 10, 11)
2- Official Ambassador for the largest and pioneering international MUN of my country (International, 11)
3-Academic Aptitude Scholarship finalist at my school Won 80% Fee Waiver of $2370+ (School 10, 11)
Extracurriculars (exactly how I wrote them on Common App but without specific organization names):
1- Research 10, 11 School, Break 5 hwk, 10 wk/yr
Team Leader at a research competition. Led team & designed a research presentation on 'Combating COVID-19': published on research institution's website. Won Active Member Award (2019 & 20). Students are selected to participate 8.3% acceptance
2- ComputeTechnology 11 School 20 hwk, 2 wk/yr
Director - of a STEM evet. Organized a round-based international research computer science competition; reviewed research of 120 participants & selected finalists.
3- Community Service (Volunteer) 10 Break 10 hwk, 3 wk/yr
Head Editor & Project Researcher for Internship Program organized by an international NGO’s (largest nature conservation organization in my country and prolly worldwide) Organized water scarcity sensitization sessions at 6 restaurants, made a short movie on sound pollution. Fully equipped a Mosque to reduce water usage by 30% for the internship project.
4- Work (Paid) 12 Break 60 hwk, 20 wk/yr
Worked as Customer Service Specialist at the camp office of a Brooklyn based company. Trained by Marketing & Finance departments. Access to software house. Gave tech support to customers virtually. received Letter of Reference & Commendation
5- Debate/Speech 10 School 8 hwk, 2 wk/yr
Committee Adjudicator, Parliamentary Debating Championship in my city 2019. Adjudicated all debating rounds. Established success criteria for the championship and named winners.
6- Debate/Speech 9, 10 School, Break 8 hwk, 4 wk/yr
Team Representative at Roots Youth Model UN & Intra-Wing English Declamation competition & National Education Olympiad,2019 Participated & won Excellent Performance Award, RYMUN; Merit Prize for ranking 2nd at I-WEDC; Member city delegation for National Education Olympiad.
7- Science/Math 9 School 7 hwk, 4 wk/yr
Team Head, Annual World Space Week Activities at National Space Agency Got my satellite model on remote sensing chosen to be displayed at the headquarters. Gave opening speech for declamation competition. Won 2 Acclamation Awards.
Essays:
Personal essay: it was about my experience with harassment and how it sparked a period of growth for me.
Why Us essays: I’m not sure about them much cuz I completed them usually a while before deadlines.
But I did put max effort.
Letters of Recommendation: 1 From CS teacher 1 From Physics and 1 from counsellor
My school required me to waive off my write to see them but I was also required to send my teachers the points I want them to include and the past activities so that they can mention them. And for the counsellor one I really trust her (she did everything I could expect any counsellor to do)
I require max aid and the max parent contribution towards tuition fee is $3000 ( as I wrote in ISCOF and CSS)
Colleges I've applied to:
ED 2 : Union College
RD: Vassar, Lehigh Uni, Vanderbilt, Dartmouth, Swarthmore, Williams, Pomona, Carlton, Connecticut clg, Franklin & Marshall, Skidmore, Loyola Uni Chicago and Jacobs University Bremen

CHP.1 <--- la suite -
____________________
Where...am I? What is this haze surrounding my mind...and given everything around me a nebulous almost...surreal aspect? It is hindering my thought process, I need an instant to gather myself.
I might be...experiencing the after effects resulted by...the chemicals used into the suspended animation procedure...
Yes, this place...is the private transporter's freighter, which I...have been advised to travel anonymously.
Rather than the protocol specifically targeting my species... in use on star lanes passage transports, they are probably using...this widely spread large array...chemical cocktail, made to accommodate...most species, manufactured by the Alökk. That explains the why... of those gaps in my memory, it is affecting the organic engram of my cerebral nodes, let hope it won't last too long.
What is this...strange vision of a being with a stocky frame, balancing on only...two legs? Now just in front of me, is it real or may...some sort of dream?
One word emerges from the murky depths of my memory,...Terran?
I cannot remember why...it seems so familiar.
Yes...this is a name, the name...of these people from the galactic spinward frontier of the Protectorate space.
I remember now, I was for a quite short while part of our embassy office, in a mission of observation into their space, and...I have been suddenly recalled to the inner sphere of the Empire, I could only vaguely remember the reason for it.
What are those sounds with a rhythmic pattern?
Is this a language?
Where did this come from?
Ah yes the Terran, their language, the Terran-basic or a variant of it spoken by this person, probably a she...? Between my four eyes not yet adjusted to the dimly lighted room and the fact that most of the time I barely could distinguish one from each other just by appearance, my also not quite totally awakened state, I couldn't be quite sure...
Soon as I use my prehensile tail to activate the subdermal implant at the back of my neck, the words spoken by this person instantly make sense.
" ...Can you walk? Do you understand me?" Says the person, and then my conditioning in Terran behaviour ensued, allowing me to decipher mild signs of stress in their body language.
"Yes..." I managed to answer, then deeply exhale before continuing.
"And also you are you? I can tell that we have not arrived at our destination, and there is a matter of concern. I would appreciate being informed of the situation by now." I inquire while trying to get on my quite wobbly four legs.
"And I would appreciate if you both, unnamed diplomatic envoys start to follow me, so I chief security personnel onboard Varma Leshandra can live up to this title."
Said the now identified Terran, in a monotone declamation not quite matching someone in a possible emergency situation, from my studies on these people it could be interpreted as some signs of mild irritation.
I rapidly reflect on my actual position, then decide that being on the sort of speak bad side of a visibly armed Terran, could only hinder myself. I tried another approach, and tried to appeal to her value throughout hierarchy as a member of a social species.
"My apologies, this is a neglect of basic politeness from me.
I am the third daughter of the house Rhkœ, Lady Rhkœ Lzkrraoh and second in rank diplomat, allocated to the service of the lord ambassador Vko Sklomk the sixth, at the office of β Orionis under the mandate of the Skgü Empire.
This gentleman here present is Sir Zgga Ryihk, high ranked Merchant Guild representative at the embassy and a dear family friend. Now formalities aside, can we have any clarification of this situation please."
As I understood this attempt didn't quite go as much the way I have attended, seeing for nothing than a mere instant flashing on the deathworlder's face, her expression going from neutral, to dejected, then disgruntled and going back to blank.
"Hmm...okay, sure. Ma'am, to put it simply this is an emergency, the vessel has been boarded by an unknown hostile force, I'm here to put you both in a more secure place, so follow me please." The security chief responded just before to take her post at a nearby entrance.
"What do you mean by an unknown hostile force?
I demand to be brought to your captain, and immediately!" Erupted from Sir Zgga Ryihk half crouched in his alcove.
"For our invaders, by being onboard unannounced is showing clear hostility in my book Sir. The Captain, he's kind of busy for now dealing with some of the said hostiles."
Came as an answer in the same previous dry tone, then seeing the signs of confusion and nascent anger on the lateral line of my companion, I decided that de-escalation was in order.
"My, my, let's not be too hasty dear Sir. I am quite sure these people are well qualified in their line of work, if the company has entrusted them to their actual position, I say we can equally without a worry also doing as such."
Then I turn to face the deathworlder.
"We will follow you security chief Varma, but it would be greatly charitable of you to give us a little time to reorient ourselves, this has been a quite unusual wake-up to be fair."
"I've to insist Ma'am, Sir. Time has become an unaffordable luxury lately. I have been plenty charitable when I injected you both with the minimal doses of stim, it should take full effect soon but if you feel you need more there's a medical dispenser on the wall. Just be careful not to overdose yourself Ma'am."
She said with what they called a 'poker face', then she turned her attention to what I presume being a kind of Terran projectile thrower weapon, that until now was loosely hanging within her grasp, signalling that this discussion was over.
Baffled by this exchange I could only blink of disbelief, then regain my composure and decide to return my attention to my struggling compatriot, helping him at standing up.
"This is utterly undignifying my young Lady! How could it be dare to subjecting imperial patricians of our ranks to such outrageous mistreatments? I shall file a report at the direction of this company, this is can't be tolerated! Unacceptable..." Complaining the merchant, loudly enough to be heard by the security chief at the other side of the room, which showed absolutely no sign of acknowledgement whatsoever.
"I would advise you to keep your calm, I am afraid that by agitating yourself this way, you will only achieve the exertion of yourself my friend.
My atmospheric captor indicates that the air pressure aboard is less dense than what our organisms are normally accommodated, nothing deadly of course but significant enough to be an impairment if we are not careful."
As soon as we walked in the direction of the door, the distinctive sound of something loudly moving inside the bulkhead could be heard.
"They are using the maintenance tunnels now. Hurry! I lock the room before they get through the hatch..."
Then the recognisable loud crackling and hissing noise of a plasma cutting tool being used from the other side of the bulkhead, which was now warping and sizzling under the extreme heat.
"Or go through the wall."
Chief Varma added, while locking the door behind us.
"This should buy us a minute or two, so stay in my shadow unless I say otherwise."
While we tried to be as far away from the now compromise passager quarter, midway in the hallway at a recess ahead of us, the whine of the metallic elements within locking mechanism of a door were being torn apart, alerting us that the intruders were keen to use brute force, and soon as the airlock fail we will be cornered.
"Ho-How can we es-escaping this fate!? Will it be our undoing!? We cannot possibly withstand such danger!!" Cried out in desperation Sir Zgga.
"Not with that attitude, Sir." Laconically retorted the Terran, before positioning herself back against the bulkhead next to the airlock being violated. Despite her display of calm and control, I was far from being reassured, the knowledge of our assailants possibly having an unequivocal numeric advantage on us, was quite unappealing to say the least.
"I know I had already declared my trust in your capacities, just to reassure myself, don't mind telling me that you got some sort of contingency?" I asked.
"Of course Ma'am, at my signal you go as fast as your long legs can carry you, don't stop until you reach the elevator at the end of the hallway." She said posing one knee on the floor, the weapon aimed at the growing gap of the airlock.
"Wait! No matter what your intentions are, do not anger them, we might still make a bargain for our lives!" Intervened the merchant.
"I don't think so, my crewmates are actually working at getting rid of an explosive device they've planted in the engine room.
If you really value your life, you better do as I tell and prepare to run, Sir." She said pointing to the depth of the hallway, without a look in our direction.
Sir Zgga and I exchanged an last anxious glance at each other, and mentally prepared ourselves to do as told.
Then suddenly the sound of an element of the airlock violently been ripped from it, followed by clatter of metal on metal made me against my best discernment turn to peek at the gap, now wide enough for me to outline the menacing silhouettes of at least a dozen individuals on the other side.
"What are you waiting for you shwaa'gkïhk!? Neutralise and capture the Skgü, eliminate whomever else is here!" The command of a deep and guttural voice resounding in the silence in the passageway. I did identify the largest of them to be of the marauder nomads, a species which the members answer to no authority within the Protectorate, and known to take any dirty deeds as long as they are paid high enough.
"Go, now!" Bellowed the Terran, less than a second before pressing the trigger of the weapon. Instantly sending what could only be described as a stroboscopic effect of thunderous burst of flames, smoke and devastation in the obscurity of the hallway, then promptly stopped as it had started. Deep citrine coloured blood spattered on the walls and ground, the silhouettes were replaced by the broken bodies of Zehëkonian, scattered on the floor unmoving and completely quiet, an horrid vision that will surely haunt me until my own demise.
To this sight I could only flinch and backpedal to stumble against the wall in shock, for an instant that has seemingly lasted an eternity my mind went blank, unable to process any of what has just unfold before my eyes. Then I was checked out of my daze by a roar filled with primal rage, to be the next instant unceremoniously grabbed and flung by the Terran to land prone further in the corridor.
As I lifted my head and tried to make a vain protest to my offender, I saw a series of short and thin metallic rodes with an acute end, violently projected rebounding with some embedded themselves into the bulkhead, at the place I was pressed against a few seconds ago.
"Move! Move! Move!" Ordered the security chief. Then while I frantically scrambled from the floor, trying to regain a standing posture on my tarsi, a series of loud bursts echoed behind me, but this time I didn't stay to witness what was happening.
As soon as I re-establish my balance, I put myself in forward motion and ran at frenetic pace for the first time in my whole life, unaware that my body was capable of performing such a feat, probably the mixture of fear and stim now fully coursing through my organism.
"I will take pleasure watching those carrion-eaters of Zehëkonian processing your flesh, once I will finish dismembering you!"
Shout the booming voice of the marauder, as I arrived at the end of the corridor to a wide hub, I could clearly hear behind me each hard and fast strokes making heavy thumping on the floor from the Terran and our assailant, who's apparently had forced their way through the airlock and was now launched at the pursuit.
My course stopped on the front of the next airlock, and just to the side Sir Zgga whom earlier had run without turning back, was now cowering and hyperventilating in a corner, with a frightened gaze locked to the direction of both deathworlders were reducing at a alarmingly fast rate the distance between us.
Very quickly the security chief was already reaching our position, a few paces before us she went for an abrupt halt to a sliding and in the same movement turned around, bracing herself and facing the marauder on her heels, which evidently wasn't showing any intention to slow down.
Then this with horror that I could only constate the proportion disparity between those two beings, the nomad was towering practically at one half above the Terran’s height and almost twice her width, their thick natural body armour of a shell was marked of shallow chinks on the centre of mass and head, that the projectiles from the Terran’s weapon did left, but they were definitely unscaved and angered.
Then I unwilling was a first class spectator of a demonstration of ruthless efficiency and savant savagery as both deathworlders collided, but the result surprisingly hasn't been as one-sided to what I was expecting from this physical altercation, or at least when one of the combatant seems to have an major advantage on the other. To the untrained eyes they both had ended on the ground, violently and spasmodically trashing in a bloody chaotic jumble of limbs.
But I have assisted at numerous combat sports in the arena, an admittedly niche source of entertainment in the Empire, and to my augmented eyes they were trying to out maneuver one another, into a scramble of position in order to land a decisive blow.
Then suddenly the two opponents break up from each other, the Terran rolling to quickly stand up, with only the fabric of her uniform torn in few places and superficial cuts oozing droplets of deep ruby blood, the marauder skittering back few paces and to my surprise, yanking and threw away a blade drenched with a cobalt blood, from one of theirs now damaged respiratory vent at the lateral base of their head.
who knew that such primitive devices apparently still manage to be proficiently use in real situation, at a era were everyone is using guided micro bombs and other beam emitters or some other means to stay at a confortable range.
"I have underestimated you creature, this light graze shall be your only allowance, it won't happen anymore and this has lasted long enough. Prepare yourself to meet your end!!"
Declared the marauder in a tone full of confidence while they both circling each other, as only answer the Terran deployed what I recognised as a wrist mounted slinger, a kind of nonlethal security implementation for crowd control purpose, working with compressed air, launching capsules filled with an obnoxious and irritant chemical, made to shatter on impact spreading its content.
Aiming directly at the injured vent, the response was immediate, the marauder screamed from the instance pain and trying frantically removing the chemical to no avail, then in feat of uncontrolled wrath thrown a series of wide swings in the Terran’s direction.
With each sequence of unsuccessful blows she avoided, her opponent's pace was slowing down, until it was with a visibly laborious effort in each movement. The Terran on her side was far from being worn-out, swiftly cutting a angle and expertly swept the forelegs from under the mad attacker, setting them unbalance and crashing on the floor head first, but in mid way of the fall the security chief threw a vicious kick at the marauder’s jaws, who's with their momentum had no chance to withstand the concussion and with a thud landed unanimated.
"I concur, this has lasted long enough." At this moment I allowed myself to breathe again, not aware that I had involuntarily stopped at some point. Then she opened a communication with another ship's personnel.
Leshandra to Piotr, I got the VIPs and there's some change to the plan, I want the elevator to the captain and Kim, some good news could be welcome now. Do you copy?"
And the voice of another Terran answered.
"Something happened? I mean Roger...I can re-establish lighting, airlocks, elevators and inner coms, those were only manually put in lock down probably by the pilot, but Asa says the long ranges coms and navigation need a serious reboot, it looks like the automated tasks agent put itself in quarantaine, denying all entries to the system, over."
"Well, it looks like we are going for a shift around the clock.
Okay, give me my elevator and lock the airlock behind me, for the reboot make it happen as fast as possible. I had a little skirmish with a few of them. We don't know how many more of them are still around, just don't linger too much.
We really don't need to add a desperate rescue mission on top of all that, anything else? Over."
"Not for now... I guess, over."
"Acknowledge, Varma out."
She cut the communication and rapidly evaluated the damage inflicted to her, then moved to collecting the weapons on the floor, and addressed us.
"Are you both okay?" I took more time than it is usually necessary to answer, still in awe and relieved of the results of the altercation.
"I...I am... "
I trailed away still trying to regain a little composure.
"Yes...yes I will be fine, thanks to you."
Then I turn to see that Sir Zgga mumbling incoherently, an haggard expression on his face, the chromatophores on his shoulders and flanks displaying the sickly colours of terror, still prostrated in his corner.
"He may need some time to come to his senses I am afraid."
As my eyes shifted from the merchant reduce to shamblin mess, at Terran then the marauder on the ground, a bright eruption of sparks and the now too familiar hissing of plasma reminded me there was more to come immediately.
"I suppose that means we better be moving by now?" I asked more rhetorically than anything else.
"I couldn't have put it better, Ma’am." She said as the elevator’s doors open behind us, then she lifted Sir Zgga barely putting any struggle, and placing him like some sort of luggage on her shoulders making her way in side the elevator, a scene I wasn't quite sure how interpret, I decided now wasn't the moment and followed without wasting further of it.
______________
This year I will try to be more regular but no promises.
Like and feedback are welcome.

Maria Callas is generally accepted to be the most consequential, influential and revolutionary operatic artist of the 20th century. She almost single-handedly brought the Bel Canto repertoire back into prominence, and her talent in stagecraft and acting helped usher in our present era of director-oriented regie productions.
Additionally, Callas unilaterally raised the level of operatic singing in Italy, completely departing from a vocalism heavily influenced by the verismo movement of the late 19th and early 20th centuries. The level of musicianship and facility in her singing, especially between 1947-1953, raised the bar and created a template for a completely new way of singing the Italian repertoire,
Tenor Jean de Reszke and his brother Edouard had a similar effect on the 19th century operatic milieu. Shortly after their Metropolitan Opera debut the brothers decided to teach themselves German and focus on the Wagnerian repertoire. Jean de Reszke was the leading Faust and Romeo of his day, and the leading proponent of the Heroic French style. Massenet wrote "Werther" for him.
What the De Reszke brothers accomplished in Wagner, with the assistance of soprano Lillian Nordica, was akin to what Callas accomplished with the Bel Canto repertoire in the 20th century.
Both singers brought the Bel Canto technique to their respective repertoires. In both cases, singing of this calibre was unexpected, in Callas' case forgotten, and brought a whole new dimension to the music. In Callas's case, the Bel Canto repertoire was seen as trifling and unimportant musically. By not being a coloratura nightingale, and by interpreting the music with the seriousness and insight of a virtuoso like Jascha Heifetz, Callas created a new interest in the operas of Bellini and Donizetti.
In the case of Jean de Reszke, Wagner's operas had just recently come into prominence in the repertoire and had received their American premiere performances during the decade before his arrival. His ability to wed the aesthetic values of Bel Canto singing practice with a full understanding of the musical import of Wagner's works revealed the true stature of those operas and established them ever more firmly the repertoire. It's important to understand that Wagner's works were considered extremely modern and forbidding, and, with a few exceptions, the style of singing was considered ungainly and unattractive which created a barrier to the full enjoyment of the operas. It was sometimes called "the Bayreuth Bark."
Here are excerpts from a review of his first Siegfried in 1896:
For nearly ten years this paper has preached in its musical criticisms that bad singing was not a necessity in Wagner drama; that Wagner's music was not impossible to deliver with all the grace and beauty of the most polished Italian style; and that if it were properly sung, much of the thoughtless comment on its lack of melody would disappear. It was held in these columns that since Lilli Lehmann and Emil Fischer could sing Wagner's music beautifully, there was no excuse for the vocal shortcomings of such distinguished distorters of Wagner's music as Max Alvary. Last season's performance of "Tristan und Isolde " proved conclusively the justness of the doctrine preached in these columns. None of us had ever before heard Tristan's death scene sung. Even Niemann, who was overwhelming in his histrionic exposition of the despair of the hero, could only shout the declamation in disjointed and tuneless patches. Jean de Reszke showed us that it could be sung without the infraction of a single one of those time-tried rules that make for beauty in vocal utterance, and that when so sung this music lost none of its greatness, but on the contrary gained in pathetic potency. Last night's performance demonstrated that the music of "Siegfried" was singable from first to last and that it was all the more beautiful when sung in the Italian or French style-so long as that style was used only as a means, and had behind it a perfect sympathy with Wagner's purposes."
"Jean de Reszke, famous as Romeo and Faust, once gave in New York a performance of John of Leyden, which stamped him as one of the greatest dramatic tenors in the history of opera. Last season he displayed the full development of those dramatic powers in "Tristan," when he proved that he was capable of an exact and lifelike embodiment of one of Wagner's two master heroes. Last night M. de Reszke became famous as the young Siegfried."
"It is like uttering a truism to say that he sang the music beautifully. It would be perhaps nearer the truth to say that it never was sung before. Jean de Reszke has not now to prove his ability to voice the declamation of Wagner's later style, but came upon us like a new revelation last night. Nothing more touching could be conceived than his reading of the lines in the forest:"Doch ich bin so allein, Hab' nicht Bruder noch Schwester; Meine Mutter schwand, Nie sah sie der Sohn"
This kind of sentiment is very close to what was said about Callas during her "wonder years."
This week the operas we will feature wil be:
Faust Charles Gounod
Romeo et Juliette Charles Gounod
Le Prophete Giacomo Meyerbeer
Otello Giuseppe Verdi (De Reszke is the first Met Otello)
Lohengrin Richard Wagner
Siegfried Richard Wagner
Die Gotterdammerung Richard Wagner

It was no secret that the King has sought to protect Naples from piracy. First he and his court has sought the construction of a vast fleet that had been deployed to disastrous consequence, and more prosperous, cordial agreements of co-operation. These lessons were learnt from, and from them new ideas trialled. These were then used to bring a new level of protection to the lands.
But this had not settled the issue. Pirates had sought new strategies and begun to take land, rather than raiding. This would not ever do.
Another solution had to be found.
The solution that was arrived upon was the creation of a vast number of fortifications. For years now the Kingdoms of Naples, and those of Spain, had been in discussion for the erection of a small number of immense fortresses to abut the waves and overlook the horizon - but such costs were both prohibitive, and unequal in distribution: to decide which cities, and ports, and coves would need protecting was in short to consign others to their fates.
Instead, each and every fief, holding, and universitas located within sight of the coast would be mandated to the construction and garrison of a fortification, no shorter than 50ft, capable of comfortably holding a garrison, and equipped with signalling beacon. These towers would each need to be positioned such that they bore witness, not just to the manoeuvring of, and colours flown by ships but of the state of their neighbouring towers' beacons. Through this the appearance or descent of a raiding fleet could be spotted in advance, allowing those nearby to shelter further inland, and in hidden places, and for this news to quickly spread along the coast, to alert other settlements of the impending threat - and to alert the coast-hugging fleets of their appearance of their foe.
Each fortification was estimated as costing only a few thousand florins, which as a paltry sum for the Kingdom to pay, but a rather more substantial sum for those lands in which they needed to be constructed. It had been made clear that the responsibility for the construction of these structures would fall firmly into the lap of the landowner. The Nobility who had taken kindly to the idea of being Nobles of the Sword, were now to be expected to act as such - the implicit threat of some of the privileges granted to them being stripped in retaliation for non-compliance looming over them like the sword of Damocles. For most, the sums expected were expensive, but manageable - until now such fortifications would be unsatisfactory in their protection, the system as a whole depending in part on the communication link their proliferation provided. For those Royal Univeristas, the cost instead fell to the Crown that led by example in their construction; allowing those of the local holdings direct as to the preferred positioning of these turrets, and employing a vast array of architects in their construction.
This was not, however, for everyone affordable, or for the King's own properties free. Not only was the task, and duty of their care and use put upon them, but the crime for the abandonment of duty by their waged garrison being that of being a galley-oarsman. These costs were however at first covered - the Kingdom had contacted those cities and settlement in close approximation and instructed them of their need to be the first to erect such towers. The other lands would wait until the Kingdom could afford to assist them in the construction. Indeed it was an immediate monetary payment that was available to every landowner proportional to pay for the towers required - a loan from Kingdom to be repaid in a fair fashion.
Those Landowners whose holdings were now protected by these towers paid for by the Kingdom, would be expected to pay an increased rate of tax - the prosperity and safety of their lands was formally their responsibly, to rely on the Kingdom was a failure in their duties that could be overseen by monetary contribution. This taxation would be charged at the level of the fiefdom, with a smaller amount expected by the Kingdom, meaning that for the local nobility fiefs with these towers would be profitable than those without, even after the payments of the costs of garrison and maintenance. For some, this taxation would prove unwanted - their lifestyle affected, or their other debts sufficient to take advantage of the second offer: The Kingdom would take possession of those university fiefs and holdings that it had provided funding for - and the funds would instead belong to the landowner.
This was as described above, at first offered to, and expected of, a more limited number of holdings at first - although the general declamation of the plan was made before Parlement for all peers of Naples to hear and criticise.
As such at first a sum of 250,000 florins was offered in grants and loans; with more promised to come, as work progressed, and expectations grew.
[M: The intent of this post is for the following:

• The construction of the first phase of a series of fortifications similar to the Coastal towers of Naples, and the Genoese towers of Corsica.
• This construction is to be undertaken by the landowners of the coastal fiefs, and universitas.
• As part of their agreed responsibilities as nobles, the local nobility is expected to pay for, and man their own garrisons. In lands belonging to the crown, the Kingdom will pay for it.
• Given that these fiefs and landowners cannot be expected to have the money at hand to construct the required keeps, an amount of money is to be granted to them to pay for it.
• Those that take this grant are expected to repay it, either through the increase of taxation in their safer lands, or through the sale of fiefdoms to the king for credit.

Intent for Moderators:

• Make Naples safer against raids, in a way that should increase tax income - through both taxation, and population security.
• If this seems convoluted or confusing, just ask me and I can explain it better.

]

When was the verb συγκρούω first attested in the middle voice to refer to an object colliding with another?
Examples from Perseus:
It looks like the earliest example of the passive (or middle?) voice is from Dositheus Magister
Ars Grammatica, p. 61. 62 H. (p. 433K.), line 12
Coniugationis tertiae: [...] congredior συγκρούομαι εἰς μάχην συμβάλλω
Other examples are in the active voice:
----------
A. strike together
Aristophanes, Frogs 1029
ἐχάρην γοῦν, ἡνίκ᾽ ἤκουσα περὶ Δαρείου τεθνεῶτος,
ὁ χορὸς δ᾽ εὐθὺς τὼ χεῖρ᾽ ὡδὶ συγκρούσας εἶπεν ‘ἰαυοῖ.’
Well, I rejoiced when you lamented for the death of Darius,
and the chorus straightway clapped their hands like this and said, “Ee-ow!”
Plutarch, Lucullus 12.4
καὶ φεύγοντας ἐκ τῆς γῆς ἀλλήλοις τε συγκρούειν τὰ πλοῖα καὶ ταῖς ἐμβολαῖς ταῖς περὶ τὸν Λούκουλλον ὑποπίπτειν.
and forced the rest to cut their stern cables and fly from the shore, their vessels thus falling foul of one another, and receiving the impact of the ships of Lucullus.
Philostratus of Athens, Lives of the Sophists 2.13
ἐς πολλὰ δὲ ἀναφέρων τῶν Ἡρώδου πλεονεκτημάτων καὶ μάλιστα τὸ αὐτοσχεδιάζειν ἀπήγγελλε δὲ αὐτὰ παχείᾳ τῇ γλώττῃ καὶ ὡς Καππαδόκαις ξύνηθες, ξυγκρούων μὲν τὰ σύμφωνα τῶν στοιχείων, συστέλλων δὲ τὰ μηχυνόμενα καὶ μηχύνων τὰ βραχέα
But though he inherited many of the peculiar excellences of Herodes, and especially his skill in extempore oratory, yet he used to deliver his declamations with a coarse and heavy accent, as is the way with the Cappadocians. He would make his consonants collide, would shorten the long syllables and lengthen the short.
Apollodorus, Library 1.1.5
τοῖς δόρασι τὰς ἀσπίδας συνέκρουον, ἵνα μὴ τῆς τοῦ παιδὸς φωνῆς ὀ Κρόνος ἀκούσῃ.
clashing their spears on their shields in order that Cronus might not hear the child’s voice.
----------
2. metaph., bring into collision
Demosthenes, On the Crown, 18.19
ταῦτα δ᾽ ὁρῶν ὁ Φίλιππος （οὐ γὰρ ἦν ἀφανῆ） τοῖς παρ᾽ ἑκάστοις προδόταις χρήματ᾽ ἀναλίσκων πάντας συνέκρουε καὶ πρὸς αὑτοὺς ἐτάραττεν:
Philip, observing these conditions, which were apparent enough, spent money freely in bribing traitorous persons in all the cities, and tried to promote embroilment and disorder.
----------
3. intr., clash, come into collision,
Thucydides, The Peloponnesian War 7.36.5
τῇ τε πρότερον ἀμαθίᾳ τῶν κυβερνητῶν δοκούσῃ εἶναι, τὸ ἀντίπρῳρον ξυγκροῦσαι, μάλιστ᾽ ἂν αὐτοὶ χρήσασθαι
But on the other hand they themselves would chiefly employ that method of crashing into their opponents prow to prow which had formerly been imputed to the ignorance of their pilots,
​
​