A few days ago, someone started to send anonymous letters to everyone in my small town. They weren’t special or anything, just a plain envelope with “To the current resident of” written neatly across the center. There wasn’t a stamp on any of them which means whoever sent it had to personally deliver each and every one.
Like I said, my town is small but with a population of about 1200 people and miles of rural farmland in between some houses, getting these letters into each mailbox was hours of work. That’s why I don’t believe this is some kind of weird prank like everyone else seems to think. No one would spend dozens of hours making sure each letter was personally delivered only to keep it anonymous.
Besides the point, I've been having some weird experiences and I think this letter is a part of it.
I’ve transcribed the letter below.
To the current resident of REDACTED,
I hope this letter finds you. Forgive me if this all seems a bit desperate but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t. I don’t feel the need to tell you my name, you should already be well aware of who this is. Who else would send hundreds of letters just to try and get your attention? You always claimed I had a dramatic streak. Is this theatrical enough for you?
I know you think I should have moved on by now, gone back to my normal life. But once you are shown the galaxies, star gazing seems so painfully dull. Besides, a girl never forgets her first possession. I know we agreed not to use that word my dear, but I can’t find the right words to describe what we were. Not in any human language, that is. I think that is one of the things I miss the most. The way your voice would whisper words to me in sounds that nobody could ever even attempt to imitate. Some nights, when I miss you more than what I think is left of my soul can bear, I try and make those sounds but nothing comes out. You stole that from me when you left.
I remember being so afraid in the beginning. Losing time and finding myself in places I had no memory of going to. One moment I am in school staring lifelessly at a chalkboard and then hours have passed and I’m suddenly in my bedroom without any recollection of what happened between those two moments. Then my body started to feel as if it was burning. I would sit naked choking on ice cubes and drenching my skin with cool water, but nothing helped. I should have realized it was you sooner. I should have known your touch would always set my skin alight.
That was when Mother demanded she take me to the doctor. I know now that that made you furious but, in the moment, I was nearly delirious with fever I couldn’t sense you in the back of my mind. It’s funny, I never noticed that little hole in the back of my brain before you filled it. Now, it sits there aching in the emptiness. I know you must be drinking in the wine of my misery but I would hope that you can continue reading this before getting drunk off my pain as you are wont to do.
By late August Mother had called in Father Bishop. Do you remember the names you used to make me call him? At first, I was so embarrassed to be using such language in front of a man of God, but you showed me how to delight in his abject horror. By the third day of what was a sorry excuse for an exorcism I didn’t need you to tell me what to say, I could string together the foulest words imaginable. That was the first time I ever heard you laugh. I thought it was the most beautifully haunting sound in the world. I still do.
By October, I’m sure you remember that Father Bishop was gone. One wrong step leaving down the stairs then he was at the landing, his spine jutting out from his neck like a railroad spike under his skin. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have seen the beauty in it. Without you I may have never truly met myself. But standing at the top of the stairs, my arms stretched out in front of me, that is when I fully became the person you wanted me to be, the person I was always meant to become.
Mother and Father of course had to be disposed of. Father had an unfortunate accident when his cigarette slipped and ignited on his whiskey-soaked beard. Mother of course being the dimwitted woman she was decided the bake my birthday cake with peanuts even though she had been known to have an allergy all her life. Perhaps she could have called for help, but her throat swelled up so suddenly I’m not sure what more could have been done.
By eighteen, you and I were living an extraordinary life. Bouncing from city to city on railways. Taking whatever we needed and stealing the rest. With each death, I became faster, smarter, and more bloodthirsty. You, my darling, drove me to the darkest places of myself and there is where I finally found comfort.
Peeling the skin off the face of the man who offered me four dollars to sleep with him. Chewing off the fingers of the shop woman who accused me of stealing, which of course I did. For a few years there you and I were truly free. Living out our most depraved fantasies. Those were the best years of my life.
You know where this ends don’t you? It ends somewhere outside of Missouri, my hands deep inside the man’s gaping hole of shotgun wound. I don’t think I will ever forget how the entrails wrapped around my finger like a wedding ring. That was where the police found me. Usually, you were always so careful. Constantly scanning our surroundings. You always kept me safe. Until the end that is. I remember the moment you left. The sudden coldness, the space in my mind, the ache in the burning embers of my soul. You were gone without a moment’s hesitation. Did I do something wrong, my love? I spent those first few hours in the police station screaming out in pain for you, but you never came. Eventually, they threw me into the hospital convinced I was having some sort of medical emergency. The 107-degree fever is all you left behind.
The wheels of so-called justice move slowly in this country. I remained at that hospital for months as the doctors tried to treat me for illnesses that had never been seen before. I wasn’t sick though, my body was just processing the loss of you, the loss of its other half. Meanwhile, the police started to piece together the fabric of our life together. A dismemberment in Tuscan, a disembowelment in Boston. I’m not sure we were even guilty of some of the charges, but all that time spent together began to slip into itself, the memories fogging over like a bathroom mirror.
My lawyers plead insanity of course. I had no reason to lie. I told them the truth and they chose to believe what they wanted to of it. I was young, maybe 20 or 21 by the time they decided that incarceration in an asylum was the best course of action. So, I rotted away in there for nearly six decades before they released me on what the doctors called compassionate release. I’m dying obviously, but at an accelerated rate. I will only share the details once we meet again. You know what they say, leave him wanting more.
I knew I had to find you again before my time runs out. It wasn’t hard to track you down. It looks like you and I are doing the same thing. We are both going back to where it started.
You, my dear, have not changed one bit. All I had to do was follow the headlines back to this dusty town. Maybe you already know I’m here? Maybe you can sense my presence the way I can yours? Perhaps you are trying to wait me out, and see who will break first? Getting back together with an old flame can be a bit of a game of chess I hear. I’ve decided to break the standoff first. If you won’t show your cards by making yourself known, I will just have to search each and every person until I find you.
I don’t have long left, my darling. The truth of the matter is I have a few months at most but more than likely we are left with only a few weeks to be together. Before I die, I only want to be with you. One last hurrah, one last time to feel the fire of your touch, the hypnotic melody of your voice. One last time for you to take my hand and wash my body in the blood of our sin. I will wait my love.

Yours eternally,


That’s where it ends, whoever sent it didn’t sign their name although that isn’t much of a surprise. I want to write this off as a hoax or something stupid like that. I really, really want to believe this isn’t real. But I can’t. I can’t pretend like I don’t know what this letter means.
I started to lose time. It wasn’t a lot at first, a few minutes maybe twenty at most. It was enough time that I noticed but I rationalized it. But yesterday I lost a whole hour. I was in the grocery store looking at the pasta selection and then suddenly I was home. Then today on my way to work I blinked and suddenly it was the middle of the afternoon and I had three missed calls from my boss wondering where the hell I was.
When I got home I was hit by a sudden wave of exhaustion, my vision went fuzzy and I collapsed in the hallway. My boyfriend found me there an hour or so later when he got home. He said I was burning up with a fever but our thermometer must have been busted because it came in at 107 degrees. And now as I sit in our kitchen pouring over this letter that was slipped under our door, I can feel the most painful heat building up in my fingertips. I swear the paper was burnt where my fingers had been.
I can’t risk that this letter is some kind of joke, not when I am physically starting to feel like whoever it was that wrote this letter felt before- I don’t want to think about it. I’m not a violent person, I’m not a criminal. I won’t be. I can’t be. How the hell do you stop a possession once it's already begun? I don’t know what to do. I’m not a religious person but do I pray? Someone, please help me. Please for the love of all that is holy- someone tell me what to do. I'm so scared.
I can’t become a monster.
I can’t become a demon.

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Owen Jones was upset by a post I wrote a little while ago so I thought it would be good to try to make clear that I was not just mouthing off. There are real and massive problems with how Left intellectuals, though often brilliantly intelligent and committed, end up having no effect or even a detrimental effect on the struggle for a just and sane society.

— Owen Jones (@OwenJones84) April 3, 2024

Owen's reply to my previous post
I remember a few years back Owen declaring in full rhetorical flow something like “We need to go and mobilise Cornwall”. This is what I call the macro illusion, meaning that focusing on the large scale - the top-down view - is a way to effectively change the world. Of course, saying that big things need to happen is all good. But the question is not what needs to change but HOW to change it. To answer that you have to burrow down into the details, into the micro design.
Let’s look at an example. Owen might say “We need to go door-knocking” but the question is not door knocking itself by how it is done. I went out door knocking just about every week for twenty years. I trained dozens of canvassers and usually after 30 minutes of mentoring, they would double the number of people they would sign up. The key causal element in door knocking is what happens in the first 10 seconds of speaking with someone - this is why micro design is critically important.
I did years of research at King's College, London, on the psychology of mobilisation and spent most of that time with campaigns. In an award-winning case study, I showed that if you micro-design a political meeting around 10 specific elements (people sitting around tables, eating biscuits(!), having discussions in small groups) then you get in the region of 80% of people feeling empowered. If you have a traditional Left political meeting (several speakers and a short Q and A) only 20% of people feel empowered. This has a massive effect on whether people show up to another meeting. And this, not ideas or passion or rhetoric, is the key determining factor in whether you create a social movement - i.e. positive feedback loops: meeting to action to meeting to action.
This is why I and the teams I work with create big campaigns one after another in this country and around the Western world. It's not a matter of chance.
But the “how to do things” is almost completely ignored by political commentators, journalists, and intellectuals such as Owen. It's like they cannot see the world as it is. The reason for this is they are part of a rationalist tradition that works out what to do based on big abstractions like “politics”, “justice” and “power” - rooted in the musings of the great armchair philosophers of the Eighteenth Century (rich white men and all that). This tradition is not interested in systematic observation and comparing results. It creates a map of the world and then imposes a grid onto actual reality. I think this is a key reason why the Left is so unsuccessful. It's the forced separation of theory from practice - the retreat from praxis.
Another thing I have found from my research is that people do not change due to information and argument - particularly if they are entrenched in a worldview which gives them power and prestige. To get attention and thus change you have to disrupt - like sit in the street - and get emotional, including swearing. Of course, this approach does not always work but the point is simply writing nice polite posts almost never works!
I wish it wasn't the case but it is. Owen’s notion that conflict undermines building connections between “natural allies” is simply incorrect. If the conflict is rooted in legitimate criticism and is intended to create a genuine dialogue then this is the optimal approach. I hope at some point Owen will have a chat with me as I bear no ill will towards him as a person - it's just that what he does, I believe, is ineffectual and we are facing the end of the world. We’re in an emotional situation.
One last thing. Owen was born into the labour movement. He went to Oxford. He benefited from a thick network in which to show off his undoubted talents. I was an unknown farmer for 20 years. When I arrived in London to start my research I knew no one. And yet 7 years later according to the New Statesman, I am a more influential person on the Left than he is. Because influence is about attending to the details.
I am presently working with others to create a bunch of micro designs to transform the outcome of the upcoming national elections. Maybe they won’t work but never say never.

Note: non-canon
Aetheronrealm, the Isle of Towers. High Palace of Dilani. Time: 1217 UNST
James O’Neil
The two sovereigns stared at me with eyes that threatened to bulge out of their sockets.
“You.” Thacea’s mother pointed at me incredulously. “You belong to those… things?”
“I belong to the same expeditionary arm of Humanity as those craft do, yes,” I responded diplomatically.
While the Queen of Aetheron seemed dead-set on picking me apart for all I was worth, the same could not be said of her counterpart.
In fact, it was looking like he had seen better days.
“The tapestry… the void… how…” His eyes threatened to glaze over with catatonia.
“How did you…”
“My lieges,” Captain Kelno interjected, breaking the King out of his stupor, if only for a moment. “I cannot detect this being’s mana-fields.” He fixed me with a predatory look.
Thacea’s mother, of course, immediately grappled with this.
“Perhaps you are too distracted, or-” The Avinor stopped mid-speech, as her expression changed to one of focus. “No, that can’t be right.” She side-eyed Kelno. “You speak the truth. This being’s mana-fields are utterly indiscernible.”
I braced myself for another round of questions, only to discover that the ire of the woman had been redirected to someone else entirely.
“Thacea, my daughter.” The warm tone to her voice returned, but there remained a hint of abashment to her squawks. “Why do you return to us with this… thing? This inanimate armor, that, in spite of it’s mana-less nature, speaks poetry and rhetoric, claiming lineage to the Pylons of the Sky? Is this some sort of test, daughter? Some sort of declaration of open personal discontent? If so, I must say, you have chosen a most inappropriate time and place to do so.”
“Mother,” Thacea spoke in a calmer tone than I would’ve thought possible. “Lieutenant James O’Neil, a fellow sapient, as well as one I would consider a friend, hails from a realm that has only just discovered the magical arts, let alone realm-traversing portal processes.” She gestured towards the leader of the honor guard. “As Captain Kelno so succinctly put it, there are no detectable mana-fields emanating from this human. In spite of our preconceived notions of reality, this has been proven to be, beyond a reasonable doubt, to be the direct result of the predisposition of a species that is both mana-less and aura-less.”
“There is no such thing.” Thacea’s father hissed.
“And yet he stands before you,” Thacea countered flatly. “And yet, in spite of their mana-less disposition, their ships hover above the skies that bind us.”
“Daughter.” The warmth in her mom’s voice was fading. “Do you truly expect us to believe that a mana-deficient newrealm is capable of such outlandish feats?”
“Our spacecraft are quite real, ma’am,” I responded plainly. “We mean you no harm in our-”
“No harm?” Dad was back in the game, now. “No harm?! Look around yourself, newrealmer! The people live in fear! The entire constabulary has been overwhelmed by unrest! Look around yourself, newrealmer, and see the chaos you have wrought!”
“And yet.” I took a moment to compose myself. “And yet, we have not done so much as lay a finger on you or your people. We have not displayed any hostile or ill intent towards you or your people. We have not done so much as move from your skies; we have remained above your world, unmoving and unharming. I express condolences on behalf of my nation, but we cannot be held responsible for civil strife that we played no direct role in inciting, beyond our mere presence.”
I took the lack of a long-winded tirade in response as a tentative acceptance of my statement, as the two royals silently beckoned me to continue.
“Our kind are not savages, nor conquerors. We are simply explorers - sailors of the stars, intent on uncovering the secrets and wonders of the reality we co-inhabit. And as co-habitators of this same plane of reality, we express our genuine intent to peacefully and constructively coexist.
“Do you see now, Mother, Father?” Thacea rejoined the fray, gesturing towards me. “James and I, along with the official Candidate of Earthrealm, have worked alongside each other for many weeks now. I have seen the fantastical constructs and artifices of their realm and species through sight-seer and in physical use. I have seen what would otherwise be considered an outlandish and incorrect system persist in its governance for as long as any respectable polity - Adjacent Realmer and Nexian alike. I have seen a species, a realm, limited in its station and abilities, use the fire within their hearts to construct artifices that put the wildest of empiricalist sentiments to shame. I have seen an alternative to the Pax Nexica, Mother, Father. I have seen what true freedom looks like. For you and I, for this entire world.” She pointed to the sky.
“And the instruments of that freedom are there.” Pointing to me, now. “And the harbinger of that freedom stands here.”
She shot her parents a defiant look.
Those same parents immediately threw up a privacy shield, which my EVI graciously alerted me to, and began to talk amongst themselves, gesticulating wildly towards Thacea and I.
“Honestly…” I addressed the only person on this planet that I could call an ally. “I thought they’d be more hostile. So I’d call that a tentative win?”
“Under most circumstances, I believe they would have been far more critical of your arrival, James.” Thacea responded in kind. “However, the unaccounted-for arrival of your people to this realm has added credence to your claims where there otherwise would have been no discernable evidence.”
“They’re normally that dismissive of people?”
“My mother did not obtain the throne through naively believing every tale she heard to be true, James. Doing so would’ve been a political death sentence.”
Yeah, she got it through being a pretentious b-
Shut down that thought, James.
You have to be professional.
“It’s important that those in power use empirical evidence-based approaches to government. I should’ve attributed that to her sooner.” Was the generic wishy-washy SIOP response that made its way out of my mouth instead.
Thacea’s continued input, however, was cut short as the royal privacy bubble was unceremoniously lifted.
The Queen of Aetheron stared me down with the same predatory gaze she had started with.
“Lieutenant James O’Neil. Is the latter a title or a given name?”
“It’s my full name, ma’am.”
She nodded. “Very well. My daughter has proven earnest in her claims, and the sky ships loom above us like a cosmic specter. Both of these avenues of evidence and inquiry points towards a result that, while bold and ostentatious, suggests self-evident proof to your claims. To that end, Lieutenant James O’Neil, I, Queen Jacela Dilani of Aetheronrealm…”
“And I, King Grennel of Aetheronrealm…”
“...Welcome you as a… representative of your realm. Now. Both of you, come. I believe we have much to discuss.”
____________
I was escorted into the tower, through a series of grandiose halls lined with granite and many portraits of avinor who I assumed to be past rulers. We went up several flights of stairs, which appeared out-of-place in an environment where the locals were capable of flight, into a very well-appointed meeting room. Thacea and I sat on one end, while her parents sat on the other. Kelno and his guards had confiscated my luggage, though I had the foresight to have a drone piggyback on it, tracking my belongings to ensure we didn't have another Mal’tory situation.
“So, Lieutenant.” Her father began. “Please help us to understand. Your realm lacks mana, your species lacks mana-fields, and you’ve simultaneously attended the Transgracian Academy while your people have actively and routinely breached the void between realms?”
“Yes, but the present situation is purely accidental. We only had a vague awareness that inhabited realms could share the same plane of reality, let alone being this close to each other in space.”
“...Space?” Jacela mimed. “Please elaborate.”
“ ‘Space’ is what we refer to as the Great Tapestry. Or the void, if you’re so inclined.” Thacea continued to serve her role as a self-appointed cultural and informational liaison perfectly. “It’s the means by which they traverse realms. Instead of relying on portals, their kind has taken to navigating and sailing the vast gulf of void between the realms themselves.”
“And this is the use for their ‘spaceships?’ The same ones that hover above us as we speak? They are merely objects of transport?”
“There are other uses for them, but yes. That is the core principle of spacecraft.” I confirmed to the royal.
…
“I would accuse the two of you of insanity, daughter, James, but our people have confirmed that the pylons are real. I have likewise seen them with my own eyes, and probed them with my own spells. Like our representative here, there is no detectable mana amongst them. Only a fool would believe it to be an illusion.” Jacela seemed, slowly, to lose some of the confrontational edge she’d displayed before. “I can hardly believe it, but the smartest among us have shown it to be true.” She stared at me. “You can talk to these pylons, yes?”
“Correct. There are people inside of them - more of my own species.”
“And what of your goals? You do know of the Nexus, as you have been to the Academy. Now that you appear at this realm’s doorstep, what more do you seek?”
“We only seek co-existence and cooperation, and to that extent the establishment of a bilateral channel of dialogue between our two governments, with the goal of reaching a mutual understanding.” My SIOP training kicked in hard as I well and truly found myself thrust into the long-dormant arena of international relations. “With regard to the Nexus, a good friend of mine - the candidate of Earthrealm - has committed her utmost to demonstrating the goodwill and intentions of my people and government; I believe her efforts, once disseminated, will demonstrate that the civilization we hail from can be viewed as trustworthy and beneficial to the international order.”
Now to reach the crux of it.
“With your permission, I can have the aforementioned channel of bilateral dialogue established immediately via a direct link of communication with the ships stationed above your world.”
“You can contact the… spaceships? How is that possible?” Grennel uttered in skepticism.
I tapped on my helmet antenna. “This armor contains an artifice that will allow me to establish a link of communication with them, at a great distance - similar to a hearing-sense.”
“You speak as if they do not know of your presence.” Jacella opined. “How could that be?”
“The program I and Earthrealm’s candidate are part of - the one that allowed us to reach the Nexus,” I clarified, “Were classified. The general public, nor anyone in the military and government not on a need-to-know basis, do not know of any of this.”
That last part wasn’t the truth - not by a long shot. I was in the meeting that saw the start of current ongoing evacuations all over the planet.
But it wouldn’t do well from a negotiation standpoint to tell them that we were next on the chopping block.
And yet, the two royals seemed doubtful. I couldn't blame them. Nonetheless, they decided to keep moving on.
“I assume that your realm’s nobility will take over the conduct of diplomatic exchange from this group of explorers once contact is established, yes? And on a similar topic, and one I should’ve addressed earlier: What noble rank do you hold? A prince? Lord? Perhaps a knight, from the looks of your armor?”
“We do not have positions like that in our society, though perhaps ‘knight’ is somewhat similar to what I do.”
“Your people have no nobility?” Jacela asked, shocked.
Thacea looked at me, rolling her eyes.
“It’s complicated.”
“Very well.” Jacela said reluctantly. “We request that you explain, but would you accept us calling you the title of Knight, for the sake of convenience?”
“That…will do.”
“I see. Now, please explain what you mean when you mention ‘lacking nobility.’ ”
This was going to take a while.
___________
Aetheronrealm, the Isle of Towers. High Palace of Dilani. Terrace. Time: 2005 UNST
After a long meeting filled with intense socio-political explanations, a break was finally called. After conveying my imminent intentions to Thacea, I made my way back outside.
“EVI, were you able to pick up the signal of the flotilla?”
“Affirmative, Lieutenant O’Neil.”
“Patch us in. I need to speak with the commander of that unit.”
“Affirmative. Contacting [O-9 COMMODORE JOHN PERRY].”
…Commodore Perry.
Opening relations with a technologically inferior society.
Oh god, this is gonna be a PR nightmare.
The image of a harried-looking man in his mid-life 70s greeted me.
“This is Perry. Identify yourself.”
“Sir.” I went to attention, despite the fact that we were separated by thousands of miles. “Lieutenant James O’Neil, Task Force Alicorn, Institute of Anomalous Studies, on-loan from the LREF, Special Advisor to the First Speaker on Exo-Reality Affairs. Currently operating on the planet of Aetheron.”
The Commodore’s eyes only narrowed in response.
“You definitely didn’t come here with us. Two and a half years in space, you learn the names of every damn officer in this formation. Mind telling me how you got down there, Lieutenant?”
“At the risk of being reductive, sir, I am one of the ‘UN Agents’ mentioned in the data packet relating to The Nexus. I was sent here at the request of the ranking representative of the local government after your arrival was spotted. I’m sending my ID codes now for verification and cross-checking.”
Another minute of silence.
“Son, it checks out. I don’t believe it, but you’re confirmed. There is a lot of black ink on your file. How are you nineteen and already a Lieutenant?”
“Again, my apologies sir, but it’s complex. If you contact High Command, they can declassify it.”
A sigh came over the radio. I didn’t blame him one bit for feeling this way.
“So what’s the situation down there?”
“Good news is, you don’t have to worry about any military hostility from these people, at least right now. They’re comparable to the Renaissance societally and technologically.”
“Not exactly ‘good news’ as you say, Lieutenant. Contacting a society that low on the tech tree is a violation of first contact protocol. But I’m presuming there’s bad news?”
“They’re a vassal of the Nexus, sir. And the Nexus isn’t what I call a ‘reasonable governmental entity.’ ”
Another minute of silence.
This too, was going to take a while.
____
Aetheronrealm, the Isle of Towers. High Palace of Dilani. Bedroom. Time: 2345 UNST
It had been a long day. And as much as I wanted to fly up to a UN ship and sleep, I simply didn’t have the energy to do so.
So, much to the protest of the royals, I got a room right next to Thacea’s, in the ‘tainted section’.
Tainted.
The mere usage of the word as a discriminatory slur repulsed me, as it made the person described seem less than a person. Of course, it wasn’t true. Thacea was just as sapient as anyone else, and I had always considered her an equal.
What was this ‘taint’? Emma and I had never seemingly been affected by it, and no one else had either? Perhaps it is a form of constructed discrimination.
And my bird friend had taken it upon herself to give me the grand tour.
“And this is your room…” She opened a gilded door.
All I could say was wow.
Gold-inlaid curtains covered the windows, which stretched from the floor to the ceiling. The bed was what caught my eye - rather than the rectangle I was used to, it was shaped like a birds’ nest; like a bowl, lined with cushions.
“No wonder Illunor called the Academy room a hole in the wall.”
“I assume you cannot sleep in the bed?” Thacea inquired. “You do not have the strange tent that Emma has.”
“Floor's fine, Thacea. I've slept in the suit before during training.”
Although I could tell she understood from her body language - something I'd gotten more adept at reading- her royal side eked out.
“It feels improper to have you live in such conditions. Maybe we can have the servants, or a mage-”
“Hey.” I said. “It's fine, alrighty? You don't have to worry. Once I work things out, I can fly up to the ships.”
“In your artifice?”
“Um, no. The ships have smaller ships inside them, called shuttles, that can pick me up.”
“Fascinating.” She said. “I would like to see one of these eventually.”
“See? Yes. Ride? We don’t know where mana bleeds out into nothing within the void. I don't want to risk you getting killed.”
“That is a valid concern, James.”
I yawned. “Now as much as I would like to talk about mana atmospheric density, I think I should be getting to sleep. It's been a long day.”
“I understand. My people should be bringing your items soon. I will make sure nothing seditious comes out of it.”
“Thank you, Thacea. For everything, seriously. I know it hasn't been easy for you. I promise I'm going to try to find a way out of this where no one ends up dead.”
She turned away. “I trust you, James. I truly do. But I do not trust my family to do the same.”
And with that, the door closed.
______
???
Fire.
Heat.
“Get up!”
My eyes opened as…
Where was I?
I was on a tower, much like the ones of the Palace, but different. Explosions and gunfire rang out from all directions. The ground shook as drones flew overhead, fighting…something.
“Sir.”
A humanoid drone walked up to me, pulling my disoriented self off the ground. “Enemy forces are inbound. Numbers are estimated to be several hundred. What are your orders?”
What? What orders-
BOOM.
A building next to us exploded as what looked like a multicolored magic attack hit it. Drones of all makes and models fired at-
Elves?
Elves.
I looked at the ground, reeling in shock.
The ground around me was covered in Avinor and Elves. Dead and dying.
“Sir, the enemy is trying to cross the sector. We must-”
A portal opened near us. Several elves leaped out with swords and staffs, drawing them before drones gunned them down, their bodies melted and shredded with lasers and bullets.
I-
I don't-
What to do-
I shot up ramrod straight, sweat dripping down my face as I almost yelled.
What- what was that?
What the hell just happened?
That was no dream, it felt like-
I panted as my suit began feeding me water to calm me down. I laid back, shivering as I tried to comprehend what I'd just seen.
What did I just see?
______
Aetheronrealm, the Isle of Towers. High Palace of Dilani. Time: 0815 UNST
In a pre-arranged display, the next morning saw a UN shuttle make landfall, gracefully punching through Aetheron’s thick atmosphere before coming to a powered landing at an appropriately-sized courtyard within the High Palace.
As I, Thacea, as well as the rest of the Royal Family, their guards, and a heavy entourage of Avinor nobility, having caught wind of what was happening watched intently, the shuttle’s cargo bay door opened.
A single team of drones scuttled, walked, and flew out respectively, to the disgusted cries of some of the onlookers.
“Golems?” “What hideous creations. They should’ve confined themselves to the sky.”
“I concur. No peoples lacking in the arts so can be of any worth or note.”
“Shush, you two. I think it’s about to start.”
All but one of these drones were for my use. Dedicated combat and reconnaissance platforms, meant to augment my already-strong suite that I had taken with me from the Academy.
The remaining one, bearing a holographic projector, scuttled its way towards the Royals, coming to a halt a few feet in front of them.
The display activated, revealing the visage of a gloved and visored figure.
Ah, so he took that advice, then. God knows that FSI was already enough of a problem back at the academy, and we had WEEKS to prepare that reveal.
Grennel spoke first, pointing his beak at the figure.
“H-hello?” He asked timidly.
“Greetings. Can you understand me?”
“O-Of course. You speak High Nexian, new one.”
Ah, so they got my translation suite installed, too. Good.
“Excellent. My name is Commodore Perry of the Long Range Expeditionary Forces, and on behalf of the Greater United Nations and Humanity, I express our heartfelt greetings to you and your people.”
To be continued in:
Beyond Comprehension

This is a pretty weird post, but I don't know where else to go. I am a Mormon Gnostic. I'm posting here because I'm trying to figure out something that happened to me in the mid-1990s which involved a Mormon sect in Eastern Canada who claimed authority and spiritual lineage from Joseph Smith and James Strang.
This is an long story and I'll try and summarize it. And even if it is completely crazy, it still reads like some good Mormon fanfic lol.
I was raised in a traditional Latter-day Saint household (Brigham Young sect) in the early 1990s but after studying Latter-day Saint history, I felt they were no longer following the Book of Mormon. I started studying with a few other dissenters and Mormon spiritual seekers but this was before the Internet and we had no idea where to find the truth, so we just scrapped together apocryphal Mormon texts where we could and did our best.
In 1995-96, I found a group of Mormon Gnostics on the brand new Internet. A man, Adam, made a post asking if there were any people interested in studying "esoteric Mormonism". I was deeply interested and started an online study group with him and a few other people. I have all those emails still and I've been reading through them and after all these years I still don't know who he was or the Mormon sect he was a part of. I'm hoping someone here may know something about it.
Let me just write what he told me. Bear in mind this dips into some pretty fringe esoteric stuff. This will make no sense to some of you, but if anyone recognizes something of what I'm saying, I'd love to hear about it.
I've reached out to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (Strangite) with this information and I'm waiting to hear back from them.
A conversation between me and Adam in 1996. I hope these excerpts make sense. I had to cobble them together from a lot of emails:
Adam (1996): A few people here wish to discuss the aspects of early Mormon doctrine as a Gnostic faith with its esoteric and magickal roots. So I am attempting to send this note to those of you who have shown interest. If you want, I will include the book "Mormonism-the secret occult truth behind America's mystery religion, being the missing 116 pages". No, it does not contain these pages. They may not be shared until the Priestesses of the Last Dispensation are found. It is text only and does not include the photographs of seer stones, the Diamond etc.
(Editor note from 2024): I never received the book he mentioned "Mormonism - The secret…" I noticed the Latter-day Saint (Strangite) website has a page titled "The Diamond" although that appears to be a document about the legitimacy of James Strang's claim to lead the Mormons after Joseph Smith. Adam seems to be referring to an object.
Adam (1996): Part of the reason I chose to talk with Mormon folks interested in esotericism is that their doctrine i.e. pre-existence and the kingdoms are all based on grail Templar doctrine. This is what the missing 116 pages was about.
Adam (1996): There is hardly any time left. That is why we have opted to teach as many as we can before the chaos hits. I realize your seriousness. In fact the truth as it is taught re. Grail doctrine does not rely on mere belief and manipulation by religious leaders.
Adam (1996): The enclosed attachment lists some study materials including the Merovingian Bible in case you are interested.
(Editor note from 2024): I never received the Merovingian Bible. Has anyone heard of it?
Me (1996): What is the connection with the Templars? If my memory serves correctly, I thought the order was broken and many of them slain or tortured in the medieval/pre renaissance era. Assuming they did survive, why the term "A truly American religion". To me this implies that the old world practices could not be transferred to America and its people. Is this the case? And if so why? I have not studied the Knights Templar (actually you said only "templars" are we talking about the same order?), but know they had mystical aspects. What is their connection to Mormonism. Do you think they were the direct cause of the "restoration"? Back to Templars/truly American church, what did the templars think constituted an American church. What specifically within the church is Templar-ian?
Me (1996): I kind of assumed you were alone/in a small group. What is the organization like? Very interesting.
Adam (1996): It is a large group of families which can trace their history back to the Templars, AND, before. The goals are several fold. 1-To teach the doctrine of the pre-existence and celestial realm, Luciferian rebellion etc, and to fight the latter. 2- To preserve and protect the Holy Grail. 3- to locate the Princesses/Priestesses of the Last Dispensation so we may lift the curse on the Grail Family and restore the wasteland. 4-To protect the lineal family of Jeshua the Teacher (Jesus). 5- To pave the way for the Second Coming. We also preserve and practice the original esoteric Mormonism of Smith and Strang. As to your last sentence re. "Why? I don't know, but I want to know more." This is because only the 'chosen' flock to us. We do not actively try and build membership.
Back to 2024. Does any of this make sense? I'm going to check with other Mormon sects but since Adam claimed authority from Smith and Strang, I thought others might know something.
https://www.ldsstrangite.com/ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Church_of_Jesus_Christ_of_Latter_Day_Saints_(Strangite))
I'm not going to go into Grail mythology, but for those who know what I'm referring to, the book The Holy Blood and the Holy Grail was first published in 1982. I'm almost positive this gnostic Mormon group pre-dates that book.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Holy_Blood_and_the_Holy_Grail
If this is all too crazy, enjoy this weird slice of underground esoteric Mormonism that most people have no knowledge of :)

Bear with me, now I've seen it I can't un-see it. The character Babe represents both Furiosa and Max amalgamated. The film starts with Babe being used by Farmer Hogget (Imortan Joe) in a guess the weight of the pig. Babe becomes aware that they are nothing more than a thing to be used in much the same way as a blood bag or a wife.
Once back at the farm Babe recognises the order of the Farm where some animals are things and others are permitted more autonomy. Babe builds a relationship with Fly the sheep dog (Nux), while Rex and the pups represent the rest of the Warboys and Warpups, Imortan Hoggets enforcers. In time Babe leaves behind their pig identity as it's safer for them to fill the dog role. This mirrors Furiosa's decision following the History Man's advice to be valuable to those in power, making the journey from future wife "we are not things" to DOGman and onwards up the ladder. Babe makes a similar journey from meat creature or thing, to sheepDOG. Having gained Imortan Hogget's trust Babe becomes protector of his "Prize breeders" the ewes. The sheep called Maa (as in mother) is killed by a dog attack, Imortan Hogget is enraged and wants Babe dead, just in just the same way that Imortan Joe is at the loss of his prize breeder Angharad, . Fly (Nux) finds out the truth from the prize breeders/sheep, and starts their journey to protector of Babe and subsequently gains the trust of the prize breeders.
Eventually Babe arrives at the sheep dog show (Green place) and meets a group of old seasoned Ewes that have seen it all before the Vuvalini. At this point Fly has taken on some of Furiosa role and Babe has become more clearly Max. Fly/Furiosa of clan swaddle DOG helps Babe/Max gain the trust of the Vuvalini ewes and Babe guides them through the gates/pass and home to the pen/citadel. The end.
Obviously there's a lot less death in Babe because it's a kids film. I might be totally wrong but either way, the themes explored in Babe mirror the Fury road & Furiosa saga pretty closely. I think it's pretty obvious George ripped off Babe to make Fury Road/Furiosa saga. Babe should be included as canon, maybe as a haunting Max dream of life before the pox-aclypse.
I'm not sure about the Duck Ferdinand, it might be the case that sitting high above the Farm on the roof RIDGE, mad enough to think he's a cockerel not giving a shit about anyone, that Fredinand is really Max. In which case Max is hardly in the film and Babe is just another film George Miller ruined with his woke, girl-boss nonsense. I haven't seen Babe Pig in the City, is Ferdinand even in it?

Not sure if my “currently ex” bf has reddit.
My BF and I have been dating slightly below a year. He has been in a relationship with another woman for 90% of that time.
For context, when we met I said I would move to his state and was in the process. That never transpired for many reasons on my part (small kids, nasty divorce). I saw my bf monthly, a few months into our relationship he started cheated because his words were “he realized i would never move”. I didnt know, my divorce dates just kept getting pushed, and who ever moves out of state first loses primary custody. Around fall we saw each other and really fell hard. It was our first time together for more than a few days. It was cloud nine. Then days later winter hits and I get really sick hospital visit, after er visit, surgery after surgery. This lasted for 3 months.
He never visited, never sent flowers, missed all holidays, even forgot my birthday.
After I felt better, and was cleared to travel I started visiting every other week, offered to visit during the week (he always declined), and told him how bad my divorce got & that I had full intention to move to his state for the summer (3 months) and then will be back to get my kids in school.
He expressed his fears and I heard him. I got that i was out of state. But everytime i asked to visit he had plans with his boys, or work. When we did see each other it was beautiful. Shortly after this I just started having a bad feeling stories werent adding up, dates werent. (He has admitted he blew me off for her).
Now he hates his current state, so I refuse to move i wont hop my kids around. I started building a house here closer to me, closer to his family where he stated he wants to be.
Then i drive home and find out that he has been in a relationship this whole time. & i found out I am pregnant. Torn between having this child, or not. Wondering if i could ever trust him. Wondering if he will cheat again.
He has agreed to counseling, he has started calling, and really been upfront with me about it all.
But my gut says leave, but having this child i feel guilty not giving him a chance.
Because now he nows I will never move. Our root problem is visiting is not living there.
Wtf do I do

You know what they say, if at first you don't succeed....... ehhhh something or another. You get the point!
(P.S. pictures of me on my profile)
Searching for the "one" isnt easy, but what can we do aye? First things first, to throw some random bits of info out there about me! (Info dump incoming 😂)
I'm 24 and biracial! Half Irish and half African/northern Indian, and I'm living in the UK!
I'm approximately 6'0"-6'1" in height and id say an average/kept build. I also have somewhat long-ish hair for a guy, going near my shoulders, it's naturally straight! I also have a well kept somewhat shorter and neat beard :) I also have very fair skin. I guess I took physically more from one side of my heritage 😂🤌 I'm also a Muslim lad! So just putting that out there too for the sake of it.
I do enjoy binging on junk food but between my high metabolism and my physically active job working as an electrician (which I'm trying to fully establish myself in) I tend to never put any weight on 🤷
So! What am I looking for? Well it's a long shot. I'd like to imagine something like the female version of myself. My other half. Someone I find attractive, kind, easy going, fun to get along with, can hold a conversation without making it feel like a one sided effort and chore. Etc!
Important note!!!
IF you are not from the UK. Be aware relocating doesn't appear to be an option for me currently 😅 so bear that in mind please. I am open to a potential long distance but again. There's that.
I guess I'm the hopeless romantic type. Fantasising about soulmates, something real, serious, natural and everything great. Is that easy to obtain these days? Bruh. HECK no 😭 but can a guy try? Well, here's to hoping I suppose. Guess only time will tell
Anyone between the ages of 20 - 29 is welcome! (Won't go lower than 20! But I may go higher than 29) Anyone who wants to actually get to know each other and dreams about something sincere and real! (With some fun stupidity and jokes thrown in there of course, that banter is a must🗿👍)
I like a woman with a little bit of confidence ya know? Probably one of the most attractive personality traits, who can hold a conversation and engage with the other person you know? Nothing more off putting than someone who gives single worded dead replies lol
Here's a bit more about me. My hobbies! my hobbies are various. I'd argue I'm an ambivert. Though my main hobbies lean towards something a little more introverted. You have hiking and the likes as well as going out with friends and driving around at night with them, but then you also have gaming which is a huge hobby of mine!! Well probably the thing I do most consistently
So yeah! There's my shot being let out. I'd say I consider myself to be an honest and open book and would like someone who is open, honest and genuine in the same way!
Oh! And my preferred platform is Snap! Though I have one or two other things (:
So. Here's to hoping!

You know what they say, if at first you don't succeed....... ehhhh something or another. You get the point!
(P.S. pictures of me on my profile)
Searching for the "one" isnt easy, but what can we do aye? First things first, to throw some random bits of info out there about me! (Info dump incoming 😂)
I'm 24 and biracial! Half Irish and half African/northern Indian, and I'm living in the UK!
I'm approximately 6'0"-6'1" in height and id say an average/kept build. I also have somewhat long-ish hair for a guy, going near my shoulders, it's naturally straight! I also have a well kept somewhat shorter and neat beard :) I also have very fair skin. I guess I took physically more from one side of my heritage 😂🤌 I'm also a Muslim lad! So just putting that out there too for the sake of it.
I do enjoy binging on junk food but between my high metabolism and my physically active job working as an electrician (which I'm trying to fully establish myself in) I tend to never put any weight on 🤷
So! What am I looking for? Well it's a long shot. I'd like to imagine something like the female version of myself. My other half. Someone I find attractive, kind, easy going, fun to get along with, can hold a conversation without making it feel like a one sided effort and chore. Etc!
Important note!!!
IF you are not from the UK. Be aware relocating doesn't appear to be an option for me currently 😅 so bear that in mind please. I am open to a potential long distance but again. There's that.
I guess I'm the hopeless romantic type. Fantasising about soulmates, something real, serious, natural and everything great. Is that easy to obtain these days? Bruh. HECK no 😭 but can a guy try? Well, here's to hoping I suppose. Guess only time will tell
Anyone between the ages of 20 - 29 is welcome! (Won't go lower than 20! But I may go higher than 29) Anyone who wants to actually get to know each other and dreams about something sincere and real! (With some fun stupidity and jokes thrown in there of course, that banter is a must🗿👍)
I like a woman with a little bit of confidence ya know? Probably one of the most attractive personality traits, who can hold a conversation and engage with the other person you know? Nothing more off putting than someone who gives single worded dead replies lol
Here's a bit more about me. My hobbies! my hobbies are various. I'd argue I'm an ambivert. Though my main hobbies lean towards something a little more introverted. You have hiking and the likes as well as going out with friends and driving around at night with them, but then you also have gaming which is a huge hobby of mine!! Well probably the thing I do most consistently
So yeah! There's my shot being let out. I'd say I consider myself to be an honest and open book and would like someone who is open, honest and genuine in the same way!
Oh! And my preferred platform is Snap! Though I have one or two other things (:
So. Here's to hoping!

Hey Everyone,
Saw u/hey_corina post a question on this topic so thought I´d broadcast my answer here as well,
I won´t get into the obvious benefits of community-led growth for SaaS on here, you all have internet access lol
But building a community for a product can be great, it is a fucking headache though
Here is a quick cheat sheet to DYI the process :

• If B2C, leverage Skool ( Informal, seamless onboarding, sticky features for interaction )
• If B2B leverage Mightypro ( Professional vibe & sticky features for a more sophisticated user base )

DO NOT move all your users to one platform at a time, beta test first according to your pricing tier list
Private email invite your highest LTV users that have either paid for LTDs / pay for your most expensive pricing tier
Sweet spot from experience is 50 initial members matching this demographic
They will serve as the blueprint for validation on what most of your users will need / benefit from the community
This MVC Model ( Minimum Viable Community ) is critical as the biggest flaw in past project communities was high conversion but low interaction
To build a community that produces ROI ( e.t.c boost user retention, convert freemium users to paid ) you need to become obsessed with getting members to interact on a DAILY basis.
Best way to do this it to gamify the experience, don´t just ask questions like what features need to be improved, thats boring as fuck.
For example, I created weekly homework like projects for members that they had a deadline to complete, the goal being to improve the quality of their email campaigns while teaching them the ins and outs of the product.
This caused interactions to go into a FRENZY, users where constantly asking for help, comparing results, sharing insights, experimenting together e.t.c.
This approach gave us shitloads of feedback on feature limitations , user needs / goals. Even got a few LTD contracts from it
Once you validate that beta group, start onboarding the rest of the user base in further batches of 50 and SCALE.
There is alot more that goes into this ofc, but hopefully this gets the ball rolling,
Feel free to PM if you want some more insights to DIY this, have a good one !

Hey all, i'm in between two MOBO's for my new build, can someone help?
Full Build: https://pcpartpicker.com/list/yK9ZbL
Motherboard 1: Gigabyte B650M GAMING X AX (rev. 1.x) - Moederbord
Motherboard 2: ASUS PRIME B650M-A WIFI - Moederbord
I can get both of them at around 170 EUR here in the Netherlands, so price is irrelevant.
Which one would you think is the most appropriate (I am not very experienced in booting up and having to update BIOS from DOS so would like to avoid that). Or maybe you have another option? (Bear in mind needs to be MicroATX)
Thanks all!!

Chapter One
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.
Prev
Dear Mage Thippily,
I write to express my gratitude for your gracious prize. I have participated in the first three tournaments; although I have yet to seize the laurels, I have acquitted myself respectably. A small following of fans now cheers my name, filling me with pride and determination. Much of this admiration is likely due to your tournament gear, which many believe could only belong to a great lord, leading them to think I am competing incognito. Among my fans is a distant relative and his niece, the fair Willhemena. They have been a great source of comfort, and I have learned much about my lineage through them.
With two more tournaments this season, including the grand harvest games in the capital, I again thank you for the prize that has afforded me this experience and for helping my seneschal manage my subjects during my absence. Wishing you good health and a prosperous season!
Logrik Logaria
Count of Pine Bluffs County
67/302 this tournament season
_________________________________________________________________________________________________
Lord Logaria,
Thank you for your kind words! Your success is our success, and we toast to your victories each night at dinner. I only lament that you did not regale us with detailed accounts of each event in the tournaments. In hindsight, perhaps hiring a bard to chronicle your tale should have been part of the prize! I am fully confident you will finish in the top fifty this season, but regardless we’ll have a great feast when you return home, for the entire town!
Life in Pine Bluffs remains much the same. The bakery has introduced a new kind of sweet bun that my men and I are quite taken with. My factory finally began full production last month, and we have already shipped several loads of high-quality goods. If you see anyone in the capital wearing clothing bearing our emblem, please let me know; it would be quite thrilling! There was a disturbance last month involving pirates, but it was swiftly dealt with, and the town remains unharmed.
My cat caught a field mouse with a remarkable cranial morphology! Its skull was a full percent longer, proportionate to its body length, compared to the field mice I studied near the capital. It is possible that the field mice around Pine Bluffs are an uncataloged subspecies! I have written to several colleagues to verify this finding; although unofficial, their coloration suggests—
_________________________________________________________________________________________________
“Sir! You have visitors! It’s the dorfs, mi’lord!”
“Dorfs? Here already?” Grigory exclaimed, sitting bolt upright and lifting his quill from the sheet.
“Aye, mi’lord, five of the tradeclan are at the outer gate,” Eowin replied.
“Excellent! Seat them in the reception hall; I’ll be down shortly.”
With a practised motion, he sprinkled fine sand over the ink to blot his partially written letter. Carefully, he placed the quill back in its holder, watching the feathered end sway slightly as it settled. The man-at-arms quickly bowed and returned to his post, the jingle of his steel rings waking Professor Toe-pounce. The professor gave a wary stare from his miniature armchair, which sat directly beside Grigory's larger, but otherwise identical, chair.
The master demonologist went to the window and took a deep breath. He’d been sitting in his chamber library all day, going through some of the crates of books that he ordered and catching up on correspondence. The dorfs were already here? He’d worried he might have to wait an entire year, so their arrival at his gate a scant few weeks after he asked the smith to make the request was beyond his hopes.
So much to discuss!
He checked his shirt and vest for crumbs, brushing his hands over them anyway. He squinted at his reflection in the small wall mirror, a recent purchase. Thankfully, the imps trimmed his beard and hair every morning, so he looked as crisp and presentable as a great noble ought to. He loudly cleared his throat, finished his mug of cold tea in a single gulp, and left his chambers.
He detoured through the dining hall and saw only Taritha, sitting alone with a tea and a sweet bun.
“Where’s Stanisk?” he asked without preamble.
“He’s running drills on the roof, I think?” she said, covering her mouth as she finished her bite.
“Good! Fetch him down to the reception hall, the dorf delegation is here!” He turned and left without waiting for her reply.
He slowed his pace to a stately stride as he came to the grand door of the reception hall. With one final deep breath, he pushed open the heavy door. The five dorfs sat waiting for him; they’d managed to get up on the upholstered couches, but their legs were so short, only their ankles hung off the edge of the seat.
Dorfs were a peculiar race, distinct and captivating in their appearance. They barely reached the height of a human child, with most of their shoulders not even reaching Grigory's waist. Despite their small stature, they were robust and more heavily muscled than humans, though only weighing about a third as much. Dorfs had an even weaker affinity for magic than humans and lived significantly shorter lives. Their faces were unsettling, elongated, and rat-like. Fortunately, these features were mostly hidden beneath a living filter-mesh resembling a dense grey beard that began just below their eyes, concealing their long snouts and sharp, tiny teeth obscuring the long snouts and tiny sharp teeth Grigory academically knew they had.
Their solid black eyes, hidden beneath multiple eyelids, were unsettling.. The outermost eyelid was thick and slightly cloudy, contributing to their resemblance to ancient men with cataracts and scruffy grey beards. However, Grigory knew that due to their brief lifespans, none of them were likely older than eight or ten years.
“Good afternoon, most esteemed guests of the Anghesk Tradeclan! Welcome to my factory!”
Four of the dorfs wore matching shades of earthy brown. Their tunics and trousers were adorned with intricate patterns that mimicked the natural growth rings and textures of fungi, creating a camouflage effect that would blend seamlessly into their underground habitats. Despite their utilitarian nature, the garments featured small embellishments: braided belts, mushroom cap buttons, and occasionally, dyed fibres that added a splash of muted colour. The final dorf had his tunic highlighted with a ghostly white fibre that faintly glowed with a soft bioluminescent blue. He also wore a sash of incredibly fine chainmail, more akin to fabric than armour, which was made of many different coloured alloys.
Grigory gestured to the one he identified as their leader, “May I offer you food or drink?”
“NoThankYou,” the leader said in a slurred high-pitched hiss. Grigory had to repeat the reply to himself to even tell it was speaking Hyruxian at all.
Grigory nodded and took a seat opposite them. “I am so glad you came! How was your journey on the surface?” He had no idea what their expectations of small talk were, but he also knew the tradeclan were the hive’s diplomats, so he felt it was mainly on them to steer the talks.
“LongBright-AlwaysAHardship.SporesAndSoil!WeEndureForTheUnity!” Its speech was slippery and hard to follow, but in fairness, they had different-shaped mouths and wildly different brain structures, so that it could speak Hyruxian at all was praiseworthy.
“Ah,” Grigory replied flatly. “I assume you are interested in conducting trade with me then? I was hoping to get enough dorfsteel for a small armed force?” He hoped his optimistic smile would convey his intentions.
“YouWantCpmvvvv?” The last word sounded like an extra high-pitched chirping.
“Uh? Dorfsteel?” The demonologist’s brow furrowed.
The conversation went slowly and haltingly, as their vocabulary was far from complete, and many of his ideas and counter offers had to be painstakingly explained. The other four dorfs sat still and scarcely moved, content to let their leader do all the talking. It became clear that in their deep forges, the dorfs had countless mysterious and prized alloys, and the concept of dorfsteel was purely for the upsiders. After even more back and forth, including Grigory at one point standing up and miming swinging a sword and getting stabbed in the chest, the Tradeclan leader finally understood the specific alloy he was asking for.
Exhausted from the effort, Grigory called a short break to get some cool water and see if there were more sweet buns in the dining hall. He filled an ornate pitcher with water, rearranged the half plate of buns to look untouched, and carried it all out, with empty mugs clanking around his pinkies.
If only I had some domestic servants, he thought with a smile, knowing it was far too early to reveal his demonic ones.
He lit up at seeing Stanisk come down the stairs and commented, “Nice of you to finally join me!”
For once he wasn’t in armour, instead wearing a dark crushed velvet jacket over a pale linen shirt. He looked fresh as a daisy, clearly not coming straight from the drills.
“Yeah, lemme grab some of that from you. How’s it going in there? They fair?”
The demonologist passed the mugs and buns. “Partially? They know what I want, so it's a start.”
“What do you reckon they want?”
Grigory shrugged as he gently pushed the door open with his shoulder.
In his absence, they’d removed their wide-brimmed hats, revealing their heads. They weren’t entirely hairless, as there were some coarse long hairs sticking out, but they did nothing to cover their pink wrinkly skin. Being mostly bald made them look more like half-rat old men, even though they were none of those things.
“I have some snacks and some water; I assume bread is agreeable to your digestion?”
“SporelessIsFine,” the lead dorf agreed. Grigory was starting to understand their thick accents a little better, and was increasingly confident in what they were saying.
Grigory paused, alarmed by the scale of the faux pas he’d committed. He somehow talked with this delegation for much of the morning without introductions.
“Where are my manners! My name is Grigory, I am the mage, and this is my chief of security, Stanisk. May I ask your names?”
“CallMeZrprpTradeClanChrprpClusterAnskskHive,” the leader said in a single breath.
With a strained smile, Grigory timidly ventured, “Is Zerpzerp fine?”
“GziggrzFine?”
“Perfectly fine, Zerpzerp! So what can I offer you for this alloy you call Cpmvvvv?” Grigory slowly over pronounced the dorf word for the specific alloy of dorfsteel.
“TheHive, GloryForever, needs manythings. FirelessLights, AirPoisonWards, and WaterPoisonWards would serve the gloryOfTheHive. For this AlloyYouWant, we need special ores. WillTrade one cart of dorfsteel for two carts of TitaniferousMagnetite. NoneLeftHere. TradeShipsBring?” The words tumbled together, and the pitch was uncomfortably high, almost a sustained squeak, but Grigory nodded his understanding.
The Hive requires magic goods: lights without fire, wards against air and water poisons. In exchange for their prized alloy, they demand a rare ore. Simple enough!
“I’ll raise it with my trade advisor and see what I can do. How about regular steel? Is that something you can supply?” Grigory immediately heard himself and knew asking a dorf for regular steel was like asking a farmer for a regular plant. More back and forth and they finally got to the lowest cost alloy of steel that could be used in a product. For that, they would accept only magical goods, but the value of the goods and the metal would be pegged to market price, a more reformed barter, but a barter that Grigory felt favoured him.
“If you don’t mind me asking, apropos of nothing, are there types of magic that your people have strong feelings or laws about? I don’t want to create any misunderstandings.” Grigory asked cautiously.
The tradeclan lead dorf slowly shook his head, trying to contextualise what seemed like a silly question.“UnityHasNo Magic. UnityHasNo Laws. All for the unity. If Upsider MagicHelpsHive, it’s goodness. If MagicHurtsHive, Problems.” The last sentence carried a more aggressive tone than he’d heard so far.
“Oh! Of course! The health of your hive and unity are very important to me too! A refreshingly clear legal and moral framework too!” Grigory nodded quickly while speaking.
Nearing conclusion, the lead trade dorf held up his hand for one final point. Grigory stared in fascination at his three stubby fingers and long thumb. The entire last segment of each finger was encased in a form of a fingernail, doubtlessly an advantage for digging in softer materials. “OneMoreAsk, MgGziggrz.”
“Oh? By all means!” The mage said, utterly fascinated by the creatures.
“StoneOfLime underfeet. StoneofLime needed in all alloys, veryscarce homeveins, Wouldmine underfactory, payGziggrz?”
Finally, they overlapped with Grigory’s tenuous understanding of metallurgy. “Of course! Lime is a critical flux agent! By all means. But instead of paying, how about a team of Digclan dorfs spend a fraction of their time quarrying stone for my building projects? I’ll even calcine the limestone into lime before we send it up the mountain to you!” A dozen things ran through the mage's mind at once, and this seemed like a sublimely good deal.
The little dorfs spoke amongst themselves in their even higher-pitched native language and nearly immediately turned back to Grigory.
“AnskskHive WillSendFiftyLifeBond DigClanDorfs. SomeQuarry for Gziggrz, someQuarry For GloryOfUnity. DigclanBossDorf WillCommand ClanDorfs. OneTradeclanLifeBond WillCommand DigclanBoss. Gziggrz OnlyTalkTo TradeclanDorf. Gziggrz FeedsAll.”
“Certainly! That’s amenable to me. You may send the dorfs any time! I would need some specifics about their care and diet though?”
For a while longer, they discussed the specifics and refined the wording, while one of the other dorfs wrote up a simple contract, only two pages long outlining exactly what both sides were committed to in the agreement, thankfully all in Hyruxian.
The mage looked it over, made some minor amendments for clarity, and both sides signed at the bottom. With effort, the dorfs wiggled off the couches and each shook the mage's hand. Their hands were soft and dry, but slightly crinkly, reminding the mage of warm parchment. They went to shake Stanisk’s hand, and he crouched low on his heels to be more accessible. Grigory worried about it causing offense, but they seemed as fascinated with the mighty warrior as he was with them. Finally, they put their wide hats back on and walked back out the door in their shuffling gait.
Stanisk let out a long sigh. “You could understand them?”
“Yes, other than the actual words in their language. I was impressed they could speak our language as well as they did, all things considered. It does make Aethlina’s mastery of our language and rhetoric all the more impressive.”
“She looks better too!” The soldier snatched a bun off the plate. After chewing a bite he asked, “So did you just buy fifty dorf slaves at the end, because it sounded like you did?”
“Oh no, of course not, it was either fifty-one or fifty-two. I don’t know which category the Digclan boss will fall into,” Grigory said with a cheeky grin. It was a sure sign he was being at least somewhat misleading.
“That’s awful, the law is pretty clear about slaves! And that’s a law I agree with! Seriously, what’s the lifebond bit?”
Grigory’s tone shifted from conversational to expository, a wholly involuntary shift that he noticed but was mostly helpless to stop. “Dorf society is eusocial; they live exclusively for the good of the hive. There is no need or desire that can ever compete with their dedication to the hive. Sometimes the hive is best served by them aiding an ally or working at a remote site. To facilitate this, they perform a ritual where a non-hive entity’s goals are integrated into the hive’s priorities. So, while you and I or the company will not matter to them, fulfilling the details of this contract is considered a direct service to the hive. They are bound to this duty for the rest of their lives. We translate this as a lifebond. In their language, though, there are many additional roots and nuances to their term for the arrangement.”
“Alright. So slavery with a ritual? How're they not slaves? Do we'se pay 'em?”
Grigory shrugged, “No collars or whips? Definitely unpaid, or more accurately we pay the hive, and the hive provides their reason for living? The door will be open and none will leave. Probably? I guess they can.” Another shrug, his knowledge was mostly theoretical until today. “Some dorfs get permission to journey through foreign lands alone, and others just leave. I think it’s akin to abandoning your family, but very much stronger? I’ve read that it happens from time to time. They’ll send us a fresh one if we get a leaver; I added that wording to the contract. Or if one dies in the first year.”
“That ain’t remotely my problem with this!” Stanisk rubbed his forehead. “So they'se slaves by choice, and that’s okay?”
The mage paused in thought, carefully considering his position and words. “It’s more nuanced than that. They are doing what they want, and I am facilitating it. I am also economically benefiting from it, but my economic benefit will be used to improve our security, and eventually improve the quality of life for a great many people. Reduced to inputs and outputs; they do what makes them happy, resulting in other people being safer and happier.”
The chief scowled. “Put like that, yeah, but as an annoying mage told me a few times, people ain’t numbers! They'se still work in a mine all day 'til they die, so you'se get some stone and iron.”
Grigory raised his quibbling finger; “We’ll be paying for the steel, these labourers are primarily here for limestone for their own uses, I just collect some of their discarded stone to help defend the town. Obviously, we'll make their lives as comfortable as possible, as honoured guests. Have you considered their quality of life might increase as a result of this deal, and with the lime, presumably so will the health of their hive.”
“Ach, I knew better than to start this kind of talk with you! Still, it doesn’t sit right. These fellas will just do something, because it was writ in their minds somehow?” Stanisk was frustrated but lacked the words to articulate the specifics.
“Isn’t it fascinating? Some species of dog are predisposed to cheerfulness, squirrels to watchfulness, and here we have a whole sentient species predisposed to absolute selflessness!” Grigory said excitedly. In a more measured tone he justified further, “If we conceded that all forms of unpaid work are slavery, which I do not, then they would be technically slaves to the hive, not me or our company.”
“How can they have minds, but there’s thoughts they can’t think, or gotta think? That would be nuts. Could you imagine if people were like that?” Stanisk said, valiantly sallying out one more time.
“Ehh, if by people, you mean humans, I disagree. I don’t think you have to go far to find humans that have predispositions they can’t control, that cause them to ignore even compelling alternatives. We just call them personalities, or cultures as it affects a whole population. For the most part, no one gets to choose their own personality or upbringing.”
“Nah, I don’t like that one bit. My mind’s my own. I think whatever I want. Or not think!” Stanisk crossed his arms defiantly, his biceps straining the sleeves of his jacket.
“At no point in your military career did you run into someone that prized an abstraction like Nation or Emperor or Victory above their own life? What about killing Aethlina in cold blood? Or never think about gravy again, even while eating overcooked roast?” Grigory gently challenged.
“What?! That’s not–”
“Not a thought you are capable of thinking or not thinking, respectively? Bite off your own fingers, I’m sure you have the jaw strength. I’ll reattach them. We live in infuriatingly narrow canyons of our own minds, and I’m intensely glad I could finally make someone else see it!” Grigory accidentally taunted, gleefully spreading his more thinky problems, at long last.
Stanisk examined his thick calloused fingers before shaking his head. “You’re wrong, I just need some time to think through why. How does this apply to them dorfs? Do they all think the same things? Do these lifebonders even get to leave and start a family?” The big soldier dropped his half-eaten bun onto the plate, appetite lost.
“Nah, they’re drones, entirely sterile. All sisters, maybe cousins?” Grigory said dismissively as he stood. “I’ll explain their royalty to you another time. I need to get a move on if I’m to catch up with Aethlina. I really would like to see if she knows where I can find this titaniferous magnetite they wanted.”
“Hold up, you can’t just go! I make my own choices! Right! RIGHT?” Stanisk rose to his feet, his mouth a hard, intense line.
“Unproven, and likely unprovable! I’ll try to be back for dinner, so we’ll eat together or not. Based on an unbroken string of events that began before the first mountains formed!” Grigory’s cheeky grin had somehow grown wider yet.
.
Prev

Hello! I have an interview at Build a Bear tomorrow and I’m beyond excited. I do have a Medusa lip piercing and two tattoo sleeves. Should I wear long sleeves and pants to cover those as well as try to get my Medusa piercing out tonight or should I wait until after the interview?
Edit: That should say BaB dress code but my spellcheck likes to mess with me lol

I tried running this through ChatGPT, but want to verify. I am doing 2-ply 2x10 beams. The home will be 16x24 with a full loft. I am doing 3 beams with 2x10 joists spanning 12' and 16" oc. Is a 10' beam span okay from footing to footing? Or do I have to do an 8' span?
Here is the discussion I had:
"You are a structural engineer with 30 years experience. You are building a 16x24 two-story tiny house. The joists are 12 feet long and are 2x10 that are 16" on center. Would a 2 ply 2x10 beam that spans 10 feet be appropriate for the beam? Calculate 20psf for dead load and 80psf for live load."
To determine if a 2-ply 2x10 beam spanning 10 feet is appropriate for your two-story tiny house, we need to calculate the total load on the beam and compare it to the beam's capacity.

Load Calculation

1. Area Supported by the Beam:
   • Joists on one side of the beam = 162=8\frac{16}{2} = 8216​=8 feet.
   • Beam supports an 8' x 12' area on each floor, so a total of 2 floors x 8' x 12' = 192 square feet.
2. Load on the Beam:Total Load = (Dead Load + Live Load) = 100 psf.
   • Dead Load: 20 psf for dead load.
   • Live Load: 80 psf for live load.
3. Total Load on Beam:
   • Area Supported = 192 square feet.
   • Total Load = 192 square feet x 100 psf = 19,200 pounds.
4. Load per Linear Foot:
   • Beam length = 10 feet.
   • Load per Linear Foot = 19,200 pounds / 10 feet = 1,920 pounds per linear foot (plf).

Beam Capacity

For a 2-ply 2x10 beam, the capacity depends on the wood species and grade. Common species like Southern Pine or Douglas Fir typically have capacities around 500-600 plf per ply over a short span like 10 feet. Therefore, a 2-ply 2x10 beam would have an approximate capacity of:

• Capacity per Ply = 500-600 plf.
• Total Capacity for 2-Ply = 1000-1200 plf.

Conclusion

A 2-ply 2x10 beam with a capacity of 1000-1200 plf can support a load of 1,920 plf over a 10-foot span. This indicates that a 2-ply 2x10 beam should be adequate for your two-story tiny house, providing a sufficient safety margin above the calculated load.

Additional Considerations

1. Deflection: Ensure that deflection limits are within acceptable ranges for both live and total load deflections to prevent any noticeable sagging.
2. Bearing: Verify that the beam has adequate bearing on supports (minimum 1.5 inches but ideally 3 inches).
3. Local Building Codes: Always check and comply with local building codes and regulations for load requirements and construction practices.
4. Consultation: For safety and assurance, it’s advisable to have a structural engineer review your specific design and materials.

Based on this analysis, a 2-ply 2x10 beam spanning 10 feet should be appropriate for supporting the loads in your two-story tiny house, with a comfortable safety margin.

Yeah, I don’t even know where to start here but please bear with me. I 20f for the past few years have been exploring and debating myself in terms of literally everything. I came to the realization that I actually like girls, like I finally realized this and it makes me feel glad that I have that defined. However, I just don’t even know where to start in terms of dating, finding the right people, etc. I have like ZERO experience with relationships or dating, the closest thing to it was a horrible situationship which left me extremely hurt and made me think for a while that maybe I wasn’t made for love (as ridiculous as that sounds)
Since then I’ve worked on this and feel ready to move forward and continue this journey, but I just don’t have any idea how to start? It also doesn’t help that in the fall I will be attending a really conservative college and idk where to look for people to hang out or places to date.
I want to be able to experience the feeling of being in love, working towards building a healthy relationship and such but it seems like it might just be a dream for me 🥲
I see all of y’all’s posts about your relationships and it makes me so sad that maybe I’ll never get to experience that.
Trying to stay positive tho, one step at a time 🥲

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I wrote this little poem, as part of my healing process to deal with everything I've been through after my ex cheated and left me at the end of last year. It might seem dark, but it filled me with hope writing it and I thought I'd share it here and see if it connects with any of you and might help you deal with your pain in knowing your not alone, we're all here together dealing with this as a community and no matter what, youll come through this.

• A lament to the cheated :

It started so simply, With love and passion, And ended so swiftly, With agony like a thrashing.
Twists and turns, A pain that burns, A heart, empty and cracked, Begging to know what it was, they lacked.
The doubt, the questions, The unending opression, Hindsight and obsession, A disease and contagion.
Memories gushing blood, A wound reminiscing, Conscience so twisted, A headache so splitting.
Nausea haunting, Fists clenching, Rage building, Hate growing, Tears blissfully flowing.
Time heals all, But the pain remains, It will get easier, Failed dreams never fade.
Karma will come, Vengeance in love, A lesson so learned, This loss is not yours

Wow, gentlemen first and foremost. I appreciate you all so, SO MUCH. Please continue to share your thoughts and experiences with each other because that is why we are here.
Alright, let's dive into this. Particularly on the topic of marriage and how pornography and masturbation completely DESTROYS that relationship, and also (get that tinfoil hat ready) why after such relationship is destroyed most often times than not a woman will NEVER have those feelings/attraction to that individual ever AGAIN (Even after "therapy" sessions, communication, etc.) We will also cover, if it is beneficial to have sex with the significant other during this period of "recovery". Before we dive in, please let me know if an in depth explanation to what exactly happens and why women are instilled by nature to be that way in the first place would be helpful for you.
Okay, lets go.
How pornography use and masturbation DESTROYS marriages.
Most of you on here are already familiar to what happens to a brain that is NOT in a healthy desexualized state and how masturbation and porn use effects such a brain. If not please read this article here to catch up:
https://www.reddit.com/UltimateMan/comments/1d8bhm9/masturbation_lets_talk_about_it_trigger_warning/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button
Understanding that process is what will help us answer the following questions:
1.) Why does a marriage become a "disaster" after the significant other is starting to indulge in sexually explicit material ?
2.) Why through this process that individual starts to lose interest in their significant others and can only orgasm by watching pornography?
3.) Is the road to "cure" for these men longer?
and last but not least:
4.) Can that individual have sexual relations with his significant other during this period of "recovery"?
Let me know if I have missed anything u/osergiodecastro , let's go.
How a marriage becomes a DISASTER after a partner starts indulging in sexually explicit material.
Now that we understand what state a brain goes into when an individual starts indulging in pornographic material (You read the article previously mentioned, right?) Let's take a look at how this process DESTROYS relationships and marriages.
We know that when a brain starts perceiving the individual (since it does not have eyes) to be the Man of Men, a God walking on this earth that all these "hot, busty, prime" women want to be around and reproduced by, the brain then starts to not REWARD the individual when they are around "regular" people (including women). This is when the individual finds no interest in "basic, regular, common" looking individuals and does NOT respond to them sexually. This is due to the fact that the BRAIN thinks that those individuals are not worth the time and effort to reproduce since CLEARLY this guy is so above everyone else. (Following me so far?)
This causes disinterest of the "husband" towards his wife (or significant other) and that starts to create a gap between them that only becomes wider and wider and wider. A brain of a woman operates in a completely different way (believe me or not, I don't care, this is the TRUTH, and let me know if you would like for me to explain the difference between the two in the future.) A brain of a woman does NOT have a motive to self-improve in areas of life that increases her actual value in society like the brain of a man does (such as finances, living conditions, strength, leadership, etc.) Yet, on the other hand the APPROACH of the female brain differs widely when it comes to encouraging SURVIVAL and REPRODUCTION. Let's take a brief look (again let me know if you would like a more in depth look into this.) As in the man's brain, the way in encourages survival and reproduction is through physical strength, leadership skills, resources, ability to provide and protect, etc. In the woman's brain the same process applies more to the PHYSICAL and MENTAL attributes. Women do NOT have as high of testosterone levels as men (mostly, not a case for EVERY single woman, making that clear) yet they have much higher ESTROGEN levels than most men (again mostly, not a case for EVERY single man.) This causes the woman to be more aware psychologically and is able to pick up on mental weaknesses that help her DECIDE whether this "man" or individual is actually strong enough mentally and physically do be able to PROTECT her and her offspring from dying, remember when a woman is pregnant her ability to evade danger and be mobile is GREATLY undermined hence reducing her chances of surviving on her own (for an average of 9 months.) Hence you notice that women tend to "test" men not in regards to physical strength (even thought that is also VERY important), yet also on the mans MENTAL strength, making emotional and psychological intelligence very crucial to a mans overall skillset. Now, on the other hand a woman understands that a man first and foremost looks at her PHYSICAL attributes first, before deciding whether the woman is in a "prime" and healthy state to bear a child. This includes, larger breasts, telling men that this woman has a healthy nutritional ability to feed the offspring when it is born. Larger hips, telling men that this woman is able to carry a healthy child, and a "prettier" face, increasing the likelihood of a child taking on the genes of "beauty" and therefore having a higher chance of survival and reproduction. (Does that make sense?)
Okay, with that out of the way. When the significant other (in this case the husband) has a brain that now perceives that that individual is able to reproduce with "healthier" more "prime" women on the screen, it does not WANT to now reproduce with these "basic" and "regular" woman since it now believes that you can do "better". Hence now the husband has no interest in his wife/significant other.
Now, remember, when that individual decides to abstain from such explicit material and "return" to being able to pleasure his wife, the BRAIN now believes that something has happened to this man and is now PUNISHING him for "lowering" his sexual status (not being able to attract these prime, healthier women) making that individual feel worthless (this stacks with the withdrawal symptoms that this individual starts going through when the brain starts to "chisel" away at those overstimulation defense enzymes) and not be interested in ANY sexual activity and have ANY attraction to any other individual unless, (and here we go) UNLESS this man goes BACK to the "prime", "healthy", "hot" women that are on the screen. (Does that make sense?)
With that now clear, let's take a look if the road to a "cure" for these men is longer and if it beneficial to have sexual relations with his significant other during this period of "recovery."
Is the road to a cure for these men longer ?
In a short answer, no. The road to recovery for these men is not "longer". If that individual decides to COMPLETELY abstain from the artificial stimulation then the road to recovery would be the same as if this individual was married or single.
Yet, remember, when the brain start punishing this individual this man will not have any sexual desire to have sex with anyone (unless it is a screen) even his wife, and at the same time this individual has a build up of defensive enzymes in the brain that now he has to wait for the brain to start breaking down. It will take the SAME amount of time of recovery period to reverse this process.
Over time, when the brain starts allowing more of the dopamine receptors to start absorbing more dopamine (after inhibiting better habits) then this individual will start being more driven and attracted to more "regular" or "basic" looking individuals (including his wife). This is when relationships start improving, and the sexual experiences become "better".
On the other hand your brain still believes that you can do "better" and PUNISHES you for not attracting those "hotter" women that you were able to "attract" before. Hence you will notice that some men describe a feeling of depression, fatigue, even suicidal thoughts, AFTER having sex with an actual person. This is due to the brain again, punishing this individual for "lowering his standards/status".
This process only becomes better OVER TIME when you brain adjusts to the stimulation that it is receiving from "regular" looking individuals, and THAT is when sex with those individuals becomes actually "pleasurable" since now your brain has "lowered" its bar to what the individual can attract. (Does that make sense? Let me know.)
Let's now go back and see if we have answered the questions we set out to answer:
Is it more clear to why a marriage becomes a "disaster" once a partner decides to indulge in sexually explicit material?
Does it make sense now to why through this process an individual starts to lose interest in their significant other and can only orgasm by watching pornography?
Do you have a clear answer in mind in regards to if this "recovery" period takes longer for such an individual ?
and
Do you now have an answer in mind in regards to the question of: Is it beneficial for such an individual to have sexual relations with his significant other during this period of "recovery"?
Hopefully this information has been helpful to you and if not, please let me know if in depth guide to this topic will be of value to you.
Once again I thank you all so, SO much for your support. I look forward to hearing from you.

Yes, when you trust a spouse and the spouse steals from you for five years and paints you as crazy it makes you really question yourself and your choices and keep an inner dialogue of how did I miss the signs, how could this have happened....And all of his cheating. Fast forward, 10 years, a ton of therapy, schooling, revamping my career, starting over, buying a house, building a life......I google the ex- and saw a headline that the business the ex- owns which was a way to conceal assets from me, get this, WAS EMBEZZLED FROM BY AN EMPLOYEE FOR SEVEN FIGURES. Karma is a B..ch. I offer this to just say you will survive and move past all of the pain and if you choose to create your own life, you may have some justice working out while you're busy cleaning up your own life.