Heads up: I’ve wanted to post somewhere about all this for the past 2 months but was unable to find the courage in fear that I’d accidentally misunderstand and break subreddit rules, but I think this is the best place available to post this story since I am between therapists/health insurance right now, and it’s too long winded to explain to my family in a way they would understand. I might even delete this later out of shame since it’s not what I usually post on Reddit and I have Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria. But for now, here goes:
I (24Transmasc) have been really down in the dumps since my birthday because of a user that caused an incident on my discord server. Maybe that seems like a trivial issue since a primary rule of the internet is that not everyone you interact with is going to be nice, but hear me out.
Before I explain what happened, let me offer a bit of background context. I live a pretty secluded life since I suffer from a number of mental health issues and developmental disabilities including Anxiety, Depression, ADHD and Autism to name a few. I do not have many IRL friends. In 2019 I joined Discord as a new way to meet people and find others who share the same special interests. In 2021, me and two friends decided to build our own discord server together. We all met on a server for “Star Trek” and since we all liked talking about Original Characters and storytelling, we decided to make an “Star Trek” text based Roleplaying Group. We made it LGBTQ+ inclusive and SFW as many of our members including myself were part of the queer community. We prided ourselves on being open a server that was open different kinds of creative ideas with simple character templates and guidelines that weren’t overly restrictive like many others that I had tried out in the past.
In January of 2024, things were doing pretty good. My two co-creators had to drop from their positions due to IRL adult responsibilities, but the server had gained almost 70 members. I have a personal track record of having ambitious project ideas that fail, so it felt really good to have achieved something that I could consider a success. We had a dedicated group of active users and we all got along with minimal issues. As a full time Senior attending University, (I have since graduated) it was always nice to have a chill place to hang out. But then. I made a mistake… kind of.
January was also my Birthday Month. On my birthday I logged on to say hello to everyone and share the birthday presents that I got since a few were Star Trek themed. My mistake was mentioning the item that wasn’t Star Trek themed. My family surprised me with a copy of the game “Hogwarts Legacy” and as someone who is also a Harry Potter fan, I was super excited and wanted to share. I guess I shouldn’t have done that because despite being so innocent, it caused “shit to hit the fan.”
Due to the ongoing conflict between the LGBTQ+ community and JK Rowling, I immediately started getting backlash. While I do understand the conflict, it also really hurt because I wrote a sappy heartfelt message about how the series helped me through a lot of childhood trauma when I was younger. I ended up venting on a separate server in a private channel because it was far from the first time I’d seen people with completely unsympathetic reactions to very emotional moments and it was very upsetting to see it happening again, this time to me personally. My friend, (let’s call them “Jake”) who was one of my moderators was also upset about this, and saw that one of the user’s who reacted negatively was another one of my moderators. (Let’s call him “Bob”) We chatted and I decided not to “rock the boat” by making a huge deal about it, and chose to try and move on. I say “try” very purposefully because it got worse.
Some days later, Jake messaged the private channel revealing that he was having trouble with Bob over on a separate third server that Bob owned. Jake blocked Bob because he needed some time away to formulate how to address the situation. A whole week passed by and Bob had noticed the block and asked me what happened to Jake. Jake then figured that he’d have to confront Bob eventually and told me he messaged Bob about their isolated quarrel and also mentioned how the Harry Potter incident on my server made his anxiety even worse. Bob messaged back saying that Hogwarts Legacy was bad, citing a bunch of reasons connecting to the problems surrounding JK Rowling. Their conversation apparently got super heated as Jake was trying to defend me and my childhood trauma, while Bob insinuated that doing so automatically made him a supporter of the author as well. Bob asked Jake to never talk to him again. This made Jake further upset because he wasn’t as fully educated on the state of JK Rowling, had never played the game, and he felt that Bob didn’t even take the time to understand or explain anything.
Through all of this aftermath, I assumed that Bob would reach out to me in one way or another. Either to confront me directly about the Harry Potter incident, or to tell me that he and Jake were no longer on speaking terms to figure out what to do since they both were moderators on my server. As it were, I was late to find out about the aftermath myself. I always figured that my moderators would come to me when issues arose. I didn’t think I was supposed to seemingly find out myself and then chase them for an explanation. Another week went by and I heard nothing from Bob. He didn’t leave my server and he hadn’t blocked me either, but the whole debacle was continuing to eat away at my mental state. I ultimately summoned the rest of my moderators and we all voted to remove Bob, since others noted that a majority of other minor squabbles also involved him in some way or another. Maybe I shouldn’t have acted so hastily but I thought I gave Bob ample opportunity to have a conversation about this and by the time I removed him it had been three weeks since it all started.
When Bob was removed from the server, a few members who were Bob’s friends went with him. That wasn’t too surprising, but my server continued to slowly rot away. A month later we found out that before being removed, Bob had left a defamatory review on our public server listing. It ruined us. No one joined. We had to take down the listing because the admins of the server listing site refused to take down the review even though it counted as doxing. I’ve been struggling to remain motivated to “keep the lights on” in my discord server. We have lost 30% of our members, and two of my mods silently quit without saying anything.
I have been stuck in a depressive state ever since, going through all the emotions. Guilt tripping, wondering if it could have gone differently, and feeling horrible because I ruined something nice I had going yet again. It’s also made me question my position as a LGBTQ+ Harry Potter fan. Back in the day it was my very first hyperfixation. Then the news about JK Rowling made me push it away. I tried to ignore it. I still try to enjoy it, but it doesn’t feel the same. I still want to enjoy Harry Potter, but I feel like there’s always someone trying to push their requirements in my face, saying if I don’t enjoy my special interest their way that it makes me a bad person. I’m always getting alternative links to eBay and Etsy for merch shoved in my face. Heck, I don’t even know anyone else who likes Harry Potter anymore. It’s made it really difficult since I have no one to actively even talk to anymore. And while I know I’m not hurting anyone, I now have this level of fear that I’m the bad guy, and a bad representative of the LGBTQ+ community just because I occasionally like to buy Harry Potter merch from official trusted sources. I am also sad that people of the community, which was built on ideas of love and acceptance, can still be so cruel. I feel ashamed, alone, and hurt that the community I spent 3 years building and maintaining is dead.
Edits: Grammer fixes
————————————
Bob, I hope you’re happy with destroying the only place I felt like I could connect with other people, and making me feel like a horrible person. Congratulations. /s

“It’s called a grief doll” Dr. Ramos said.
I stared at him like he’d grown a second head.
“A what?” I asked.
I’d agreed to this session to get my mother off my back. Provided, of course, that she also foot the bill. And, truth be told, it hadn’t been an easy couple of months. The word “stillbirth” sounds a lot more peaceful than the reality of it all. You get all the same blood and screaming as a regular birth but with none of the joy afterward. Things are, I guess, “still,” in a way. The silence of the grave.
“I know it’s a little unconventional,” Dr. Ramos said. “But, there’s been some really solid research to back it up recently. My colleague down in Camden–”
I cut him off. “You want me to buy a lifesized recreation of the dead baby that I just gave birth to?”
He looked slightly chastened by this. “I want you to process what happened, Mary. It can help. Look, if what you were already doing was working you wouldn’t be coming here, right?”
I sighed. “Alright. You’re the doctor. Who am I to argue with science?”
We talked a bit more after that, but it’s not really worth recounting here.
***
The next day I went to the address Dr. Ramos had texted me. It was a little building tucked away downtown between the huge tech skyscrapers and offices. When I walked in, the owner, a short man with a scruffy beard, smiled at me and said “You must be Mary.”
I nodded.
“Would you like to sit down? Do you want anything to drink? Anything to eat?”
I shook my head. “I don’t really want to stay here any longer than I have to, if that’s alright with you,” I said to the Rasputin-looking gentleman sitting behind the desk.
“I get it,” he said, nodding gravely. “People come here to get away from something, not to settle down. Do you have the pictures?”
I took them out of my bag. It had been quite a while since I’d needed to get photographs printed out. Ever since the world had gone digital we’ve all become allergic to paper.
“Here they are,” I said to him. These would serve as the model for the doll. He reached out and took them from me, examining them carefully.
“I think I’ve got what I need. I will let you know if I need anything more,” he said, stroking his long beard hypnotically.
I left and drove home. It was a quiet ride. Much more quiet than I’d been used to. Ever since Tim had left there were these little dead spaces throughout the day. He used to fill car rides with excited chatter about protons and leptons and all the -ons he got to work with as a physicist.
My brain had begun to fill these spaces with grim reflections on the past and future:
It’s your fault.
You don’t deserve a baby.
This is God’s way of telling you that you don’t deserve to be alive.
Over and over again these thoughts would run through my mind like the world’s most depressing tape recorder. Vicious, hateful, unbelievable things kept popping into my head as I drove the short distance home, making the trip feel far longer than it actually was.
***
I had taken to staring at the ceiling and crying myself to sleep most nights. The big, empty house felt suffocating at 3 AM, like all the open space was sucking the air out of my lungs every time I opened my mouth. This had been the way I spent most nights since the stillbirth. I tried to fill the silence any way I could. At all hours of the night, one could hear my TV blaring or my phone playing some podcast or another. Anything to avoid the little dead spaces between one task and the next.
But it was most difficult of all when I tried to sleep. I saw images of my little girl when I closed my eyes. I saw the blood and heard my own screams when it became clear that she would never take a breath. There were also subtler forms of self-inflicted torture.
Exactly one month after the worst day of my life, I came home from work to find Tim’s things cleaned out and a note on the kitchen table. It read:
“I’m sorry Mary. I can’t imagine how hard this month has been for you, but every day I stay here is like a knife to the heart. You’re just so sad and I can’t take it anymore.”
That phrase “You’re just so sad” played in a loop in my mind’s ear.
***
Eventually, I won the battle against consciousness. It was a fitful, restless sleep pregnant with terrible things. I felt like I’d lived an entire life come morning. I dreamt that I’d held little Sarah in my hands, that I’d been able to feed her from my own body just like I’d wanted to do for so many years. But as I held her against my chest she melted into a puddle of flesh and blood, yet never ceased to suck, to draw whatever life she could from me, and I was desperate to give it to her. Eventually, she was little more than eyes in a puddle of fleshy blood, staring at me from the ground and whispering “Why didn’t you save me, Mama?”
I woke with a start. Never, not once in my life, had I experienced a dream like this. I sat huddled in my bedsheets, shaking with tears as I saw the image of my melted little girl swirling around on the floor, asking why I hadn’t helped her. Reality seeped back in stages, penetrating the veil of sadness, and shocking me to my feet with the blaring intensity of my phone’s alarm. It was always turned up to full volume because anything lower risked my sleep-addled mind resisting its call to return from the deep. It had always been difficult to tear myself from the land of dreams, and more so after my life began to feel like a nightmare. But lately, sleep offered little respite.
I pulled on my clothes, brushed my hair so that it was halfway presentable, and poured myself a bowl of oatmeal. It was a gray, soggy pile at the bottom of my bowl. In a flash of unwanted connection, my brain superimposed the image of little melted Sarah onto my field of view. I nearly vomited into my bowl, but just then there was a knock on my door.
“Package,” the deep baritone on the other end intoned.
I opened the door and saw the mailman walking away. It occurred to me that nothing was stopping me from asking him out now that Tim had wandered out of my life. But, immediately, my brain stepped in to fill in the blanks:
Why would he want someone like you?
What the hell is wrong with you?
I don’t even want you and I am you.
These thoughts came as easily as my breath, and I had long since stopped trying to challenge them. In all likelihood, they were right. I picked up the package and saw that it was the grief doll. As soon as I got home from work I’d figure out what the hell I was supposed to do with the thing.
As I stepped into the bathroom, the mirror joined my inner voice in confirming my lack of romantic prospects. Deep, black circles formed rings under my eyes. Deeper wrinkles stood out on my forehead and my double chin and – was that a gray hair? Already? Immediately, the thoughts returned.
You’ll be dead at 50 by this rate.
The world won’t miss you.
Why not make it tomorrow?
Again, these suggestions were difficult to challenge with the evidence inches from my eyes.
***
It was hard to care about work. Even at the best of times, it hadn’t been the most fulfilling job in the world, but these days my cubicle felt like a tomb. My job was to call people who had filled out negative reviews for the phone company (I’m sure you know which one, but it’s probably best to leave that unsaid) and ask why.
This was a doubly depressing task because it was both neverending and pointless. How many times in the past month have you picked up a call from a number you didn’t recognize? I’m guessing the answer is lower than one. Almost nobody picked up, and those who did invariably did one of two things: hang up instantly upon realizing who I was or scream invective at me that I would hesitate before repeating to the devil himself.
One particularly creative gentleman suggested I fold myself in half seventeen times to create a black hole and then have intercourse with said hole while my company’s headquarters were sucked into the event horizon. Points for creativity. Deductions for misogyny. Although, in fairness to the man, I have no trouble believing he’d have said something similar to a male rep.
That day only two people picked up. One hung up immediately. The other launched into a tirade of such intensity and fervor that I was worried he wouldn’t make it to the end of the call.
“And another thing!” the man shouted as I quietly ate a sandwich on the other end. “Your website looks like it was designed by some rock monkey with shit for brains and feet for hands!” he screamed at me. This was an insult I hadn’t heard before. Variations on it appeared with some regularity, sometimes with racial overtones. I’m not entirely sure why this was, given that I had no accent identifying me as anything other than white, and in fact I wasn’t. The assumption seemed to be that because I worked in customer service I must be Indian. This leap in logic went unquestioned by a surprising number of my interlocutors. The average consumer of cellular services in this country is a few rocks short of an avalanche themself.
“I’m sorry that our services did not meet your quality and reliability expectations,” I said dryly, reading from the part of the script labeled “negative responses.”
“And I’m sorry that you people haven’t gone back to where you come from!” the man shouted.
“I’m from Omaha sir,” I said.
“Where you’re really from!” he shouted back.
“I’m really from Omaha sir,’ I responded tiredly. “And so is my father and his father, and before that we came over from England.” This prompted a string of racial epithets I’d rather not repeat. The rest of the day went like this, and after a while I defaulted to flatly repeating “I'm sorry that our services did not meet your quality and reliability expectations.”
My faith in humanity dimmed with each passing call. I decided to slip out at 4:00. I figured no one would notice. I figured right.
***
It was Wednesday: trash day. The walk from my apartment to the dumpsters was a dismal affair. Despite gray skies, cold fog and a pounding headache, the excursion did at least deliver the best part of my day. A few guys catcalled me on the way to the curb, and for a moment I felt like something other than a disgusting blob of flesh.
But then the thoughts started back in and made me realize that the men’s comments had not been compliments but acts of aggression. As I dragged the empty trash cans back to my apartment, the men once more yelled out their opinions on my face, my tits, my ass. In response, my mind conjured scenes from my dream – melted flesh, the endless unanswerable question: “Why didn’t you save me, Mama?”
By the time I’d made it back to my apartment I was practically in tears. At that moment, however, I remembered that the doll had been delivered earlier. It was time, I supposed, to open it.
After a few unsuccessful attempts, the package yielded its contents, and I nearly fell over when I saw it for the first time. It looked exactly like Sarah. Her little, premature hands. Her closed, screwed up eyes. Everything.
I held the tiny plastic facsimile against my chest and sobbed into it. I apologized to it over and over again:
“I’m sorry Sarah. I’m so sorry.”
But nothing could have prepared me for the moment that it spoke back:
Why didn’t you save me, Mama?
I screamed and fell backwards. The floor flew up to meet me and struck the back of my head with overwhelming force, driving the tears out even faster through a combination of momentum and pain.
“What did you say?” I asked, with a shaking voice.
For a moment, the doll was quiet, its little eyes still shut against the world. Then, they snapped open. Its little mouth opened and flopped around like a fish before repeating:
Why didn’t you save me, Mama?
I threw it across the room. It was an instinct, but a second later, I felt bad. It was like seeing Sarah’s death all over again. The doll screamed and cried.
Why did you hurt me, Mama?
It asked in its sad, childlike voice.
I ran to the bathroom and threw up. I threw up again and again, my body shaking uncontrollably. This couldn’t be happening. It wasn’t possible. That thing was nothing more than a hunk of colored plastic. When there was nothing left to expel from my stomach except bile, I returned to the front room and slowly approached the doll where it lay in the corner.
Its eyes snapped to mine.
Why did you leave me, Mama?
I picked it up and hurled it out the window. For a moment, I thought that I should try and call the short Russian man who had sold me the monstrosity but then I remembered that it was 8:30 on a Wednesday. Not even Russians have that kind of work ethic.
Instead, I poured a glass of wine with shaking fingers and turned on the TV, desperate for something, anything to break the silence. As the news blared and the alcohol entered my veins, I was almost able to convince myself that the last few minutes hadn’t happened. But then the screen began flashing images of babies in incubators – victims of some war halfway around the world. Protestors marched through the streets, holding images of the poor, malnourished infants, and listing out those they felt were responsible. Before I turned it off, I could have sworn that one of them turned to the screen and said my name.
***
When I did fall asleep, it was only after many hours of crying and shaking. As returned the silence, so returned my certainty that I had heard the doll speaking. But human frailty won the day, and my brain surrendered to darkness once more.
In my dream, I saw Tim holding little Sarah and crying. He held her close and put the tiny baby girl to his face, kissing her again and again. Then he turned to me with an eyeless face and spoke with a toothless mouth:
Why didn’t you save her, Mary?
I tried to scream but in this world I could not make a sound. My mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, and I felt like I was breathing in the ocean. Then, little Sarah looked at me with her little melting face and said:
Didn’t you love me, Mama?
When I didn’t answer, the tiny melted eyes burned with rage.
I hate you Mama. Everybody hates you. You throw me out the window?! You should jump out yourself and do the world a favor you worthless sack of human garbage forgotten by God. Why are you even alive you heartless bitch?
I kept trying to scream but nothing would come out. I tried to apologize but could only feel the sensation of water rushing into my lungs. Sarah began to say, over and over:
Why didn’t you save me, Mama? Why didn’t you save me, Mama? Why didn’t you save me–
I woke with a start to find the doll inches from my face. It was shouting at me:
Why didn’t you save me, Mama?
This time, I did scream, and batted it away from my face. The horrible thing, which somehow had reappeared in my house after I’d thrown it out of a 7th story window, began to sob in the corner where it fell. It looked up at me with its tiny heartbroken eyes and quivering lips as it asked me:
Why did you hurt me, Mama? Do you hate me?
Without thinking, I said, “Of course I don’t hate you, sweetie. Mommy loves you very much.” I froze. What was I doing? This thing wasn’t Sarah. It wasn’t even a person.
Then why did you hurt me, Mama? Why didn’t you save me?
I buried my head in my hands. “I couldn’t save you! I’m sorry!” The tears continued to pour from my eyes in rivers, soaking the arms of my shirt.
You didn’t deserve me, Mama. You coldhearted cunt. You shouldn’t even be alive.
I looked at the thing in shock. Hearing those words in a child’s voice was somehow far worse. It couldn’t stay in my house. Not one second longer. But throwing it out the window hadn’t worked, so I had to come up with another plan. I grabbed the hateful thing and carried it to the fireplace. It screamed all the while, sobbing just like a child in pain.
Don’t burn me Mama! Don’t hurt me! Why are you doing this?
I was undeterred. The fire roared to life, and I hurled it into the hottest part of the blaze as it hurled insults back at me.
Nobody’s ever loved you! Why do you think Tim left, you stupid bitch? If he really loved you, he’d have stayed!
Slowly but surely, the thing melted in the flames. Its little face turned to mush, then to liquid, then to ash. The smell was atrocious, but at least it was gone. I lay panting on the floor, crying but relieved.

My idea : Turn Notes into Functional Apps
My Saas : notion lookalike format but instead of taking notes you are actually developing your app with a similar text block based no code format.
All backend data is connected to and stored in the real notion so an "app creator" can see what their users are doing and how they are interacting with the software

https://gamerant.com/beyond-good-and-evil-2-news-update-2024/ 😔😔😔😔😔
https://www.aol.com/ubisoft-teams-joseph-gordon-levitt-083940273.html
https://www.gamesindustry.biz/beyond-good-evil-2-creative-director-emile-morel-dies-at-40#:~:text=Emile%20Morel%2C%20creative%20director%20of,shockingly%20young%20age%20of%2040.%22
With a few of the creator's gone as well as Michel Ancel leaving or retiring & one of the creators dying Emile Morel, & the many many multiple changes & delays time and time again.... i worry what the final product will look like, it seems ubisoft was or is more focused on the new AC game, star wars outlaws, as well as the new avatar game... but with SOOO many changes ongoing behind the curtain @ ubisoft, it seems like greedy executives could turn it into something that Ancel never originally wanted or visioned... or into a multiplayer helter-skelter mess, if most of the crew have gone or are mostly a skeleton crew, how far in development could the game be? do they still want to create a prequel story tying in new story beats from the first game, is the ship customizable feature still going to be in it...? many many questions that are still not clear or present from ubisoft or whoever is in charge, ...How much game design talent or knowledge does the new creative lead have? has he been brought up to speed on the blueprints or concept arts? Who do we play as? Will the world be open world or linear? nothing is said.... which horribly concerns me.... if they scrap this game too much to the point where no one notices it or even recognizes it things could take a bad turn, Could it be a Duke nukem disaster.. scenario? or a blandly designed online game where you hunt, or use boring RPG or shooting mechanics? pvp sessions or bland character missions, filling gaps from what was originally created making it steer off the beaten path. Ubisoft has cancelled games before, yet not mentioned BGE2 once since last e3 event. it saddens me & breaks my heart but i sense a shift change in ubisoft's hands. I could be wrong if it does finally come out but worried <3 ❤️
All these things worry me... Tom Henderson tweeted saying development was complicated, which raises a few flags? all in all we will see, it sucks that we wont know & in the end ubisoft sadly has the final word on if it will even come out or get cancelled.

Previous case
Victor hadn't been kidding when he'd said that the mechanic was going to become more aggressive. The only reason why this week wasn't my last was because I'd had Orion behind me as well as a plethora of precautions in place.
(If you're not familiar with what Orion Pest Control's services are, it may help to start here.)
For example, at Orion, all employees are advised to get lockboxes for their mail rather than regular mailboxes. It would be far too easy for a Neighbor to follow one of us home and fish out a piece of mail to find our names. This is only recommended for people who've had frequent or unpleasant interactions with the Neighbors.
You could also ward off your mailbox with iron. Salt, as always, would work as well, but I'm sure your mailman wouldn't appreciate getting seasoned every time he simply tries to give you your junk mail.
When it comes to monetary transactions, cash or pre-loaded debit cards are the safest, unless you can be certain beyond a reasonable doubt that the person ringing you out is human.
Another precaution that I've taken when it comes to the mechanic is that I've bought a cast iron fire poker from an antique store. Iron is one of the most effective weapons against the Neighbors, though it's best to think of it as an allergy rather than a perfect repellant. Some Neighbors will crumple instantly if they're within a few feet of it while others need direct contact in order to cause anything worse than hive-covered burns.
Given that the mechanic must have frequent exposure to iron during his daytime profession, I have to wonder how effective it is against him. I do see him wearing gloves from time to time, so it must do something, even if it's a minor skin irritation. Either it's a pride thing or he's just that committed to the ‘mechanic’ bit.
I've been keeping the poker in the company truck. Even if it's not lethal to him, I’m sure that getting smacked over the head with it probably wouldn't feel too good. Along with that, I've restocked my salt shells. If the mechanic decides to try anything, he'll have an arsenal waiting for him.
I don't have any delusions about being able to kill him. I think that's something only a true hero could accomplish. I'm talking about legendary individuals like Cú Chullainn, Beowulf, or Māui. People whose deeds are so great that their stories live on to this day. Find someone like that in the modern age. (Though, I would argue that Marc-André Fluery comes close. Flyers fans, don't interact.)
Reyna suggested bathing the hagstone in saltwater to amplify its deterring effects. She also wrapped red thread along the outside of the ring, explaining that it should help enhance its protective properties.
It's a good thing, too. Since my last interaction with the mechanic, promptly at dusk, I would hear the beating of wings outside, and always from the west. I risked a glance out the window one night to find a murder of crows. Ever since I saw that the birds’ shadows move independently of their owners, I don't look at them. I ignore their calls. I know who they serve.
After Reyna's additions, the hagstone vibrates against my chest whenever they're near.
However, in my case, these were only temporary solutions, unless I wanted to be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life and fearing death even more than I did before. But in the meantime… raccoons.
A client called about hearing scratching and chattering in her attic. Her uninvited guest also put a hole in her siding. In other words, it was enough of a mess to momentarily distract me from my own problems.
Raccoons are incredibly destructive, chewing up anything that they can get their little hands on. From the client's description, it sounded like we could be dealing with a nest. Mother raccoons can be especially feisty when it comes to protecting their young, so I had Reyna join me in case there were any kits.
At Orion, we are licensed to use humane trapping methods on smaller wildlife, so don't worry, no garbage kitties are being harmed. Though I want yinz to know that raccoons are not to be underestimated. They may not try to take your soul, like some pests out there will, but they can spread a variety of diseases, including rabies and roundworm among others. They also present a major fire hazard when they claw their way into a home since they can chew through wiring like nothing.
The first thing we had to do was identify the garbage kitties’ entry point. Reyna opted to go on the roof while I investigated the attic.
The first thing I noticed was the telltale stench of dried urine. Yup, those were droppings over there in the corner. Delightful. Looking around, I found that the raccoons had torn out a few chunks of the insulation, but nothing that wouldn't be too difficult or expensive to replace. All in all, it seemed like it'd be an easy call.
Then I felt the hagstone begin to tremble. Not long after, Reyna screamed.
I rushed out, my heart surging with panic as I was greeted with the frenzied calls of crows. Shit! They followed me.
She was on the ground, swinging her silver-tipped knife clumsily against the swarm of black feathers swirling around her. I heard her cry out again as I got closer to her, then suddenly, the cloud of feathers dispersed, twisting towards the sky with a cacophony of angered caws. Reyna had managed to get some salt on them before they could gouge her eyes out.
My hand was coated with blood as I guided Reyna towards the house. She'd managed to keep her eyes, but they’d shredded her with their beaks and talons. I could feel her shaking as we retreated from the horde. Reyna tried to hide it, but she was crying, the tears mingling with the blood covering her nose and cheeks like a bandit's mask.
The whole time, the hagstone didn't stop vibrating. I think that was the only thing keeping the horde from coming after us. Their calls were piercing as we took cover in the house.
The client was alarmed when she saw the state Reyna was in, “What psycho ass raccoons do I have?!”
I promised I'd explain later (I honestly don't remember what bullshit story I gave her) then asked her to watch over Reyna as I went out to get the emergency first aid kit we keep in the truck.
Reyna held me in a grip so tight that it left bruises, pleading, “Don't go out there! Please!”
Now that we weren't on the run, I could see the injuries on her face more clearly. The deepest one went through her right eyebrow towards the bridge of her nose. The rest were shallow, painful-looking cuts that criss crossed over her skin.
“They can't come near me. And I’ve got something in the truck that’ll make them think twice.” I assured her.
She didn't let go. I couldn't find it in me to pry her fingers off, so instead, I put my hand over hers, hoping that it was comforting.
The client gently pressed a paper towel to the side of Reyna’s face, her voice heart-achingly motherly as she uttered, “It's okay, honey. Everything's going to be alright.”
I'm not sure if it was from pain or something else, but Reyna noticeably stiffened when the client spoke to her in that maternal tone, closing her eyes as if to keep more tears from falling. Her clutch loosened until my wrist was freed, her hand dropping limply to her side.
The fucking birds sounded like they were laughing when I marched out to the truck. The sound grated on me as I snatched the fire poker and the first aid kit.
“Laugh at this!” I snapped as I swung the poker at the nearest crow.
It let out a squeal as the poker grazed its wing, hopping as far out of reach as it could afterwards. They didn't cackle after that.
After we cleaned Reyna's injuries up, they didn't look quite as terrible, but just to be safe, I dragged her to the hospital. Thankfully, the client was an absolute angel about the whole thing and understood that one of our employees being injured was going to be a setback. I called up Victor to inform him of the situation as well as the entry points that we’d found; he took over where Reyna and I left off.
On the way to the hospital, Reyna muttered, “So… does my little Alfred Hitchcock moment initiate me as an official Orion employee?”
Wearily, I gave her a small chuckle, “Yeah, you're one of us, now. Lucky you!”
“Hey, I’ll take the murder birds over Psycho Mantis.” She replied with a small smile.
Her nickname for the mechanic. I think it's from a video game. I don't know. Never quite got into them.
It was quiet for a moment. The smile faded away as she distantly said, “I think that's how they do it. They take your eyes, they take you, you know?”
I nodded, feeling a lump in the back of my throat, thinking about how the mechanic can control someone just by meeting their gaze. “I think you might be right about that.”
I couldn't help but wonder if the Hunt had attacked her simply because she's an Orion employee or if they were drawn to her because of something else. Was she grieving over something? I didn't know her well enough at that point to be able to tell. They hadn't hesitated to go for her eyes. If that was the case, that'd make her the most vulnerable of the three of us.
Another thing I want yinz to know when it comes to dealing with the atypical: if you or a loved one has been harmed, one of the best things you can do is to support the victim. And if you need support yourself, ignore that stupid little voice in your head that tells you not to bother anyone and reach out. Isolation will destroy you in more ways than one.
After I got Reyna settled at the hospital, I made a beeline to the river to find another hagstone. Clearly, Reyna was going to need one, too.
Naturally, the stupid birds followed me, causing my hagstone to quiver nonstop. I went into the woods armed with my toolbelt and the iron poker. I opted out of taking the shotgun simply because I was going to need a free hand to look for another hagstone. There was a part of me that hoped that one of them would try something so that I'd have the opportunity to smack the shit out of them.
While I was searching, among the crows’ calls, I heard whispers. They sounded close, like they came from behind some brush about twenty feet away, but I believed the False Egg when it said that the whispering thing likes to confuse its victims. Without listening to what they were saying, I glanced around as the river's cold water rushed around my boots, trying to figure out what was stalking me.
The whispers pretended to move further away. But still, I couldn't see the thing causing them. I clutched the poker tighter. The crows had stopped their chattering. They heard the voices, too. Hold on. What were they all looking at?
Gingerly, I pulled out the hagstone and held it to my eye in the direction of the crows' gazes. At first, it looked like one of the trees, until I was able to make out a triangular head with eyes the size of basketballs. It held up two massive, folded appendages that were lined with sharp spines. It looked to be as tall as a draft horse, yet it was so still that I couldn't even tell if this huge animal was breathing. The whispers were quieter than they'd ever been before.
Those huge eyes were fixed on me. I didn’t dare move.
One of the ‘crows’ glided to the ground near to the whispering thing, passing in front of my field of view. I stifled a shudder when I saw the state of its frail, humanoid body. Its skin clung like molten wax to its ribs and spine. Tattered wings extended from the sides of its torso, the feathers looking as if they were ripped from numerous other avians and fused to the miserable animal's stretched, contorted arms to make it fly. Where the eyes should have been were empty sockets. A curved beak had been forced onto the creature as well, driven into the skull hard enough to leave ridged, fleshy lumps.
Now that I've seen it, I think the crows were human, once. Transformed and disfigured to serve the Wild Hunt.
The crow shuffled a little too close to the whispering thing. Quicker than a blink, the whispering thing's folded appendage shot forward, curving around the crow's midsection, spikes driving into the crow's torso. My mind could barely keep up as the whispering thing then bit the crow's head clean off with a terrible crunch.
The other crows began to frenzy, shrieking as they dove towards the whispering thing. Without having to take a step, it snatched another crow out of the air. Flesh ripped with a wet tearing sound.
Since the animals were all focused on each other, I took the opportunity to dig frantically around for a hagstone, holding my own against my eye in the hopes it would lead me to another one.
There was a low hum that I felt more than heard. Deep within my chest, as if I was standing next to an amp at a concert. This was followed by an enraged screech from one of the crows. Still, I kept looking.
There had to be one. There just had to be!
One circular, black rock stood out among the rest, the water seeming to outline it from the view of my hagstone. There! I plucked it out of the water, looking over my shoulder to see if either the crows or the whispering thing were paying attention to me. They were too engrossed with trying to tear each other apart.
I shoved the black hagstone into my pocket and made a break for it, poker at the ready. One of the crows noticed and let out an ear-splitting cry to alert the others.
As I ran, I checked back to see that three of the crows split off to pursue me. I wasn't worried about them catching me. The whispering thing was another matter. This was only my second time encountering it and I hadn't had enough information to identify it, so I didn't want to find out the hard way if the defenses I had on me would be enough to stop it from tearing me apart like it did the crows.
There was another low hum that rumbled against my ribs as the whispering thing used one of its forelegs to swipe a crow out of its way. It had lost interest in them, its huge amber eyes focused on me once again. I prayed that the crows swarming around it would be enough to slow it down.
As I raced through the trees back to where the company truck waited, the whispers started anew. They became louder and clearer the faster I went, interrupted by the shrill cries of the crows tailing me. I did my best not to listen to any of them. The last thing I needed was to get led astray by any of my pursuers.
A crow swooped close enough for me to smack it with the poker. The sound the bird made when the iron scalded its skin made my teeth clench. The others joined it, bringing me to my knees, my ears ringing. High pitched, grating, like broken glass against a chalkboard. Disoriented, I swung desperately with the iron poker again, not hitting anything.
And among all that, the whispers hadn't stopped. My head rang, ears going numb. I swung again. One of the shrieks stopped as the poker found its mark. Even as the auditory assault continued, I got to my feet, grabbing the trees closest to me to keep myself going. The whispers became even more frantic as its prey got further and further away. The truck was right there.
The two crows tailing me had finally stopped their dreadful screaming and simmered down to furious clicking sounds with their beaks, as if they could think of nothing but stripping the flesh from my bones.
When one tested the limits of the hagstone as I got close to the truck, I swatted at it with the poker, the tip colliding with the creature's skull. The crow’s body crashed against an oak’s trunk, then went still.
As soon as I cleared the treeline, the whispering stopped. I looked over my shoulder. The whispering thing was retreating, only visible for a brief moment before blending in among the trees.
It couldn't leave the forest. That was good to know.
I closed myself into the truck, leaving the furious crows outside. They glared at me from the branches of a nearby oak. After taking a moment to collect myself, I drove back to the hospital, wanting to hand the black hagstone off to Reyna before anything else.
At a stop sign, I got a text from Victor: he had finished setting traps for the client's raccoon infestation and was going to meet me at the hospital.
Reyna was chilling in her hospital bed, face bandaged, wearing a hideous blue hospital gown decorated with faded green and pink squares.
“Guess who got her rabies shots!” She announced with a sleepy grin, holding her hand up in a shaka.
Someone was clearly given the good painkillers.
Victor arrived a few minutes later, wearing a black mask that covered his mouth and nose, smelling strongly of lavender. It made my nose itch.
“Why do you smell like an old lady?” I complained.
The mask intensified his withering stare, voice muffled by the mask, “Lotta blood around here. Probably wouldn't be too good if I smelled it.”
Reyna chimed in, slurring slightly, “If you're gonna eat anyone, go for the receptionist. He was reading Anne Rice, so he'd probably be into it.”
It was Reyna's turn to get The Glare. He said flatly, “You're high as a kite, aren't you?”
Reyna flashed a peace sign.
To summarize Reyna's condition, she's as okay as she can be. They had to close up her eyebrow and cheek, and they gave her a plethora of shots to make sure that she didn't catch any diseases from the crows. The hospital doctor wanted to keep her overnight to make sure that she didn't have an infection, then afterwards, she was going to take some time off of work to recover.
Also, I slipped the black hagstone into her purse so that it wouldn't be misplaced.
After we discussed Reyna's injuries, I decided to address the elephant in the room, “So… what can we do about the mechanic?”
Reyna shrugged, “Grovel and plead for our lives?”
Victor rubbed his eyes. “We might be a bit past that point.”
I asked Victor about the specifics of his deal with the mechanic. I knew that there had to be some sort of condition that had to be fulfilled before the mechanic could take someone, otherwise I probably wouldn't be alive to type this right now. Reyna was equally curious.
The boss seemed reluctant to speak on this matter, at first. I told Victor that he didn't have to share anything if there was any possibility of retaliation. The last thing I wanted was for him to be punished in some horrific manner for trying to help me.
He eventually shrugged a shoulder in resignation, “Whatever happens, I can handle it. It didn't take him long to figure out that I was the one that helped you find the hagstone. That wasn't pleasant, but…” He went quiet for a second, his eyes glazing in a way that reminded me of when I first came home from active duty. He then shrugged again, “I'm willing to risk it if that means getting a chance to hurt him back someday. Lord knows it's been a long time coming.”
He didn't tell us what the consequences had been for assisting me, and neither Reyna nor I pressed the issue. Some mysteries are best left unsolved.
Even though I was nervous to hear the answer, I didn't pull any punches and straight up asked, “Why hasn't the mechanic sent you after me yet?”
Victor considered for a moment, then explained, “I'm not sure on the specifics, since the mechanic doesn’t tell me anything other than what I need to know to get the job done. But from what I can tell, he takes those who are dead, dying, or… ‘dead inside,’ I guess is the best way to put it. Some souls appear to be harder for him to take than others. The hard ones need to be… broken down first. As of right now, he says you're not ready.”
Reyna numbly asked, “So if the birds tried to nab me, does that mean that I am ‘ready’? That they could take me at any moment?”
Victor hesitated before replying, “We won't let that happen. Alright?”
Reyna nodded, eyes low.
I wanted to ask her what was going on. Figure out why she was suffering in a way that made her fair game to the crows. But she'd been through enough for one day. That discussion could wait for another time.
My next question was another one that I dreaded the answer to, “And where do you come into all of this, Vic?”
Regretfully, Victor admitted, “I bring him the ones that are ready if he can't get to them himself.”
He glanced at Reyna, “As of right now, keep that hagstone on at all times. Even wear it when you're sleeping. The mechanic didn't know who you were initially, but I guarantee the fucking Lessers tipped him off. I think he’s more focused on Nessa, at the moment, but if I get sent after you, hit me with iron, salt me, do whatever and don't feel bad about it. Same goes for you, Nessa.”
I hated this. I hated that he was being used like this. I hated that he spoke about someday being sent to drag one of us to meet our fate at the hands of the Wild Hunt as if it was unavoidable.
The air suddenly felt like it was much thinner in the room. Somehow, I got enough oxygen to ask, “What if I learned the mechanic's true name? Would that end this?”
Victor let out a soft scoff, rubbing the bridge of his nose over his mask, “Probably, but good luck with that.”
I had already figured that the mechanic wouldn't dance around a fire singing his true name all willy nilly like Rumpelstiltskin. But I couldn't accept that all of us were screwed. There had to be a way. I had to believe that there was a way.
I announced that I'd be back in the morning. Reyna looked as concerned as her painkillers would allow, while Victor jumped out of his seat.
“What are you going to do?” He demanded.
“I'm going to talk to him.” I replied. “One of us is in the hospital and another one of us is undead-”
“I know it's looking bad right now, but they can easily get worse if whatever you're thinking of doing goes south.” He cautioned.
“I'm just going to see if there's some way I can… I don't know, talk him down? I haven't gotten that far yet, but something needs to be done.”
He didn't look convinced, and with how terrible my argument was, I don't blame him. “I'll go with you.”
I motioned towards Reyna. “And leave her alone?”
Reyna, looking like she was fighting sleep, groggily said, “I got the adder stone and I'm in public. I'll be fine. If you're going to confront Psycho Mantis, you're going to need Vic around more than I will.”
Victor agreed, “Like it or not, you're not handling this alone. Remember what I told you when you got hired in?”
We're not heroes, we're pest control specialists.
You know that thing I said about not isolating yourself? I can be bad about not following my own advice sometimes, especially that one.
Going forward, I do want to note that the decisions that were made on that night were extremely risky and I don't recommend for anyone to repeat them. Believe it or not, we are professionals.
On our way to our destination, we stopped by the 24-hr convenience store. Victor was about to question me until he saw me go for the whipped cream. I also got s'mores supplies, thinking that maybe some bribery would make the mechanic more amiable. I figured that if he rejected them then, hey, I like s'mores, too.
Afterwards, we followed the path to the skull trees.
During our hike, Victor whispered, “That fucker is hubris incarnate, but he's not stupid. If he offers you a deal, know that it's not going to be in your favor. And be careful with the way that he twists words.”
Something noteworthy is that the hagstone doesn't react to Victor. I think it's because he doesn't have the same malicious intentions as his captors. He may have changed after his murder (hell, anyone would) but at his heart, he was still Victor. Meanwhile, as we got closer to the skull tree clearing, I felt the stone gradually begin to quake.
Up ahead, orange light flickered. The mechanic had a small fire going. He lay on a blanket next to it, that cursed banjo on the ground beside him, one arm folded under his head, legs crossed at the ankle. His eyes were closed.
He didn't open them as he greeted us, “I was wondering when you two would show up.”
Keeping my nerves buried beneath the surface, I held up the bag of sugary goodness. “I'm here to negotiate.”
He laughed, still not looking at me. “Are you, now? And what exactly do you think a little thing of cream will get ya?”
“Not much, I imagine.” I said evenly. “But I thought it'd be a good jumping off point.”
Even though I’d originally protested Victor coming with me, I was glad that he was there. I don't think I would've been able to be so level-headed if I'd met with the mechanic alone. It would probably be interpreted as a sign of weakness, but I was counting on that.
As soon as I saw the mechanic begin to crane his neck towards us, I slammed my eyelids shut. He knew way more about me than I'd ever wanted him to know already, and I was afraid of giving him more.
Again, another potential sign of weakness. When it came to trying to get him to back off of Orion a bit, I figured it'd be best if he underestimated me.
I didn't have to see the mechanic to know that he had that wicked grin on his face, “Alrighty. Let's see what you've got.”
A hand that was as cold as the grave gently removed the bag of goodies from my grasp. Victor. Wordlessly, he brought the cavity-inducing offering over to the mechanic. I never realized how quiet his footsteps were until then. He moved like a shadow. He could've been five feet away or five hundred, for all I knew.
There was the rustling of plastic, followed by the trademark sound of whipped cream being sprayed from the nozzle. Sounding slightly less prick-ish, the mechanic told me I had his attention.
I had been trying to find the magic words that would make this whole situation blow over. Nothing that I came up with in my head fit that description.
So I decided to be straight forward, then go from there. “What will it take to de-escalate things between you and Orion?”
The whipped cream wailed once again. A moment later, the mechanic replied, “Why are you asking a question that you already know the answer to?”
“Other than my soul.”
He chuckled softly, the sound too casual and charming for this sinister discussion.
“You know, I’m curious, puppydog,” Fabric rustled. Without looking, I assumed he'd sat up, “Which o’ your parents are you most like?”
Here we fucking go.
I tried to redirect him, “With all due respect, that isn't relevant.”
“Oh, but it is.” His tone of voice brought chills to the back of my neck. “You see, I'd be willing to take a trade. Find a soul as mouth-waterin’ as yours, and all this goes away. Hell, I might even let you rest in peace! You know what choice your father would pick.”
I was hoping that the firelight wouldn't be enough for him to see my face flush and my jaw stiffen. That had touched a nerve, just as he knew it would.
That was also a horrible deal. One that I wouldn't even consider. There was no way that I could condemn someone else to an afterlife of torment. I wouldn't wish that on anyone, not even that weasel-faced client that I rescued the False Egg from. Not even my father.
Swallowing back the plethora of terrible emotions threatening to bubble up, I suddenly felt Victor subtly squeeze my shoulder supportively. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't hesitate to give anyone who insulted his employees a piece of his mind, but the mechanic was the last Neighbor to mouth off to. That was the best he could do for me, in the moment.
When I informed the mechanic that I wouldn't sacrifice someone else to save my own skin, he laughed again, “If only you knew how many times I heard those exact words! Thing is, I ain't even got started on you, pup. Given enough time, you might find you're more like your old man than you thought.”
I took a deep breath to keep the mixture of dread and anger confined to my chest, then calmly replied, “Sounds like you know exactly how everything will play out. Isn't that boring for you?”
The tension that filled the air after those words left my mouth made my chest feel tight.
The whipped cream can wheezed thoughtfully before the mechanic mildly admitted, “A bit, yeah.”
There it is.
“You already have all of the advantages,” I started, “It’s not much of a hunt if your prey can't even run, is it? There's no challenge in killing something that's already baited and trapped.”
“So, what do you suggest?”
Oh boy. I was about to do one of many things I warned yinz not to do: “The only way I can bring you the excitement you're craving is if I have a fighting chance. And a good one. I'll be searching for your name, but I need to know where to look first.”
His laughter made me suppress a shudder. I remember thinking that I should've known that he'd see through my words like he saw through everything else.
The mechanic then said, “I know what you're trying to do, pup. But the problem is, you're right! It's too easy anymore, especially since y'alls names are just available on the internet for anyone to find. I've been getting kind of soft lately.”
This was his soft side?
The mechanic continued, “You really think you can pull this off, pup? I know you're a fighter and all, but you're not a warrior, not really. Being a soldier ain't the same thing.”
“I may not be Cú Chullainn, but I'm as close as you're going to get in Mercer County. We've got a bit of a warrior shortage around here.”
He snorted, “You seem awfully sure of yourself for someone who can't even look at me.”
“I'm not sure about anything. That's why I'm here, isn't it?”
It was quiet for a moment with only the frogs chirping in the forest able to find their voices. Not even the whipped cream broke up the silence this time. I was tempted to risk peeking through my eyelashes, but managed to resist.
Just as my nerves started getting to me, the mechanic said, “So, you want me to give you a hint. That's a lot to ask, but you knew that already.”
“You want something in return.”
“Hagstone. Smash it.”
No way. It was too valuable. If I gave that up, I was dead. I promptly shook my head.
He sounded amused. “Shoulda known you wouldn't fall for that.”
Looking back, I wondered how many he'd tricked like that. Giving up some form of protection after being misled into thinking the mechanic was going to let them go, only to regret it seconds later. Probably far too many.
He continued, “Alright then, we'll talk for real. I'll give you that hint, but I got some conditions. You get three chances to guess correctly. Each time you guess wrong, you have to give me one of your names starting with your first, middle, then last name. Don't try fucking with me by trying to pass your middle name off as your first.”
That made my throat tighten even more. If I agreed to that, failure wouldn't just spell disaster for me, but for everyone I knew as well. I'd be dragging my mom and anyone else associated down with me. I'd essentially be doing what he already requested: sacrificing others to save my own skin.
I heard Victor faintly, from my right, “Don't!”
The mechanic wasn't pleased, “This ain't about you, blue eyes. This is between me and her.”
The stakes were getting way too high. I couldn't do this. But then what? The Hunt wasn't going to wait around for me to find another way, assuming that there even was one. Victor clearly thought it was a terrible idea. For the record, I did, too. I could feel the boss' eyes on me, willing me not to forget what he'd said earlier about dangerous heroics.
Maybe there was another way and I just couldn't see it. But desperation has a way of messing with your head.
“If I agreed to this,” I started, knowing that I was probably digging my grave even deeper. “And I haven't agreed to anything. just to be clear. If I did this, I'd need the assurance that you won't send your crows or hounds or any others that serve the Wild Hunt after those that I care about. That includes my colleagues and me, for that matter. Like you said, this is between us two.”
The mechanic chuckled and I heard him shift again. “You're feeling awfully bold tonight, aren't you?”
I reminded him, “You want this to be interesting, don't you?”
He considered, then with a click of his tongue replied, “You hear that, blue eyes? Means you, as well. On both sides, mind you. Same with that witch doctor. Yeah, I know about her. I keep mine out of it, if you keep yours out. All's fair, right?”
I didn't feel right with any of this, but the alternative was for things to continue as they were. If that happened, we were all screwed anyway.
“And if I agreed, the hint that you provide will have to be both true and helpful. And it'll also be given in easily understandable American English, no riddles or puzzles or any other forms of confusing phrasing. You’d also have to give it to me tonight. The whole thing would begin after that.”
Once again, he laughed, “Shit, you're not messin' around!”
I know how the Neighbors do deals. If I hadn't mentioned it, he probably would've given me the hint in the form of a riddle spoken in backwards Gaelic.
“Alright, pup, I get the picture. You know what you're dealing with. I’ll play nice.”
His voice had a subtle sardonic edge. Nothing about this was going to be nice, if I chose to go this route, but that wasn't news.
“Oh, and one more thing!” The mechanic added a little too cheerfully. “You have until Samhain. I’m sure you know why.”
It's June already; still a good while away from October, but this year feels like it’s flying by fast, like every other year following 2020. He didn't have to explain why: the Wild Hunt are at their most powerful during Samhain, which for those who don't know, was a Celtic holiday that eventually gave birth to Halloween. It's when the veil between the atypical world and ours is thinnest.
In short, it's a busy day for Orion. Looks like it’s going to be even worse this year.
Victor spoke again, “Can I talk to her for a moment?”
“Nope. You don't get a say. Either she takes it or leaves it.” The mechanic answered curtly.
As I deliberated, there were subtle taps on a tree nearby. Hold on. Morse code. M-I-S-S-I-N-G. What was I missing? Maybe it was because I hadn't clearly spelled out what I wanted to happen if I correctly guessed the mechanic's identity.
“If I accept this bet, then if I find your name, you’ll relinquish your claim on my soul, as well as all other Orion employees, whether they're living, dead, or undead. Have I made that clear?”
After a moment, the mechanic answered, the smirk blatant in his voice, “You have now.”
Of course. It was so simple. If I had gone through with the deal without being specific about the outcome, the mechanic wouldn't have been obliged to release any of us. I would've done all the work to identify him for nothing. Tricky bastard.
Thanks, Victor.
With a heavy sigh, I politely asked the mechanic to repeat everything that we'd just discussed to make sure that he wasn't going to conveniently forget something. To my surprise, he did it without comment, though he sounded like he thought the whole thing was funny. He left nothing out.
When I say that agreeing to this deal was one of the hardest things I've ever done, I mean it.
I instantly had second thoughts the moment I heard the mechanic stand up and cheerfully say, “Well, you ready for that hint? You’re gonna wanna open your eyes for this. I can show you better than I can tell you.”
Oh God, I made a mistake! No. I could do this. I had to.
Black cherries. He was in front of me. Steeling myself, I opened my eyes. The mechanic stood as close as the hagstone would allow, a dark silhouette in front of the crackling flames.
“Blue eyes, would you mind holding puppydog’s hagstone for her? Wouldn't want that gettin’ lost, now, would we?”
What?!
“Don’t get all frantic, I can’t do shit to you until you get your hint, per our agreement,” The mechanic said dismissively as Victor approached me. “You’ll get it back after.”
Victor looked apologetic as he gently removed the most powerful defense I had. He had an odd glint in his eye. Was that defiance?
I’ll get you out of this, Vic. I promise.
The very moment that he was able to, the mechanic grabbed my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes.
A church surrounded by black water… A great feast of viscera and wildflowers… Black thorns drinking the blood of the unworthy… The great antlered headdress of the White Son of Mist… Pricking his finger on those horns… He signed in blood…
Victor pulled me back, not giving the mechanic even a picosecond to take full advantage of being outside of the hagstone’s influence. If he hadn't been holding me up, I would've been on the ground, still recovering from what I'd just seen.
“You find that ledger, you find me.” The mechanic said coolly.
That church. It reminded me of something. In the morning, I’m going to check our records. For now, I just want to crash. I'll keep yinz updated.
On the bright side, there weren't any crows waiting for me when I got home.
(Here's an index of all the cases I've discussed so far.)

Been thinking about NPCs for a bit and wanted to get other peoples' takes / dump this out of my brain. Basically, in EOTE, Scarlet Keys, and now Hemlock, FFG appears to have grown somewhat wedded to the concept of including a big fat cast of NPCs where you can only really get close to 4 out of 10, thus adding theoretical replay value.
In my head, this seems sort of misguided. Fundamentally, I think the number of NPCs should be limited, such that designers and writers are somewhat sure the player will interact with them frequently.
Thinking about it, the way one typically grows attached to an NPC in a game is a sort of emergent story, where random interactions are the key. If we're talking about videogames, I feel like Rimworld is a good example. Individual events can be simple, but together they can form a compelling narrative. Take this simple story about a nerd who becomes a hero:

1. Pawn A is very intelligent and not very good at guns.
2. Pawn B gets injured during a raid
3. Pawn A has to rescue them.
4. Pawn A gets a miracle headshot during the rescue
5. Pawn A becomes friends with Pawn B due to a chat while rescuing them.

If you want players to get attached to their pawns, you start them off with three or four, so that the player is paying attention to these events, and then let them experience many events. Critically, these events have consequences (major or minor) which persist uniquely with that NPC.
Arkham in the expansions more criticized for writing (such as EOTE, SK) was doing the opposite in some sense. Instead of giving a few NPCs or locations and allowing the player to meaningfully interact with them, they tended instead to flood with "and then he said and the she said and then he said" text-dumped interactions with no real agency. This is a symptom of a bigger problem, that with more NPCs, we also get more bloat, and therefore we must scale back what is possible per-NPC, even with extensive and honestly tedious text dumps. (especially when playing with 3 people and reading aloud)
With many NPCs it becomes difficult mechanically to allow gameplay to interact with them, difficult to include enough interaction to character build, and difficult to include consequential action. In EOTE, for example, we cannot have scenarios interact with any individual NPC because every NPC may have died already, and no NPC is necessarily going to be taken along on any scenario. As such, scenarios are relatively bereft of interaction events, and also bereft of consequential interaction. Just for my group: the campaign failed utterly to make us care about any explorer beyond their general character archetype.
I think the flaw in reasoning here is that the creators are thinking along the lines of a novel or perhaps a tabletop RPG setting. Unlike in a board game, you get to force a sequence of events in a novel, with great latitude to extensive description and creation. In an RPG, the DM gets to make things up on the fly, and can construct with much more flexibility the sequencing of events. The number of characters that each can handle is much higher than a board game.
Hemlock fixes this to some extent with the Codex system, but I think it still suffers to some extent from an overabundance of possible NPCs. Basically: Why do we even want to have 10 total anyway? I have outlined, I think, the costs. But what are the benefits? As far as I can think of:

1. There is some sense of bigness that comes from flooding with NPCs, which may add immersion
2. There is theoretical replay value because you can't interact with all the NPCs

The first reason I suppose might be sufficient. Maybe with the Codex it will be possible to strike a balance of bigness and depth? But to be honest I have not yet been particularly affected by this, or felt like a setting was particularly well thought out from a pure writing/narrative perspective because of NPCs. If anything, NPC-bloat has tended just to make things feel more "fiddly", though perhaps that is personal.
The second reason I honestly don't put much track in at all. I have no idea how most people play Arkham, but even with it as the overriding focus of weekly boardgame night, I just don't understand why replay value seems to be so high up in peoples' priorities? Replaying for companion dialogues tends to rank lower than just replaying on higher difficulty with different decks. And replaying in the first place is just not important to us. It will take straight up years to finish the available content.
Anyway perhaps my view is too narrow, lmk what yall think. I just wanted to put these thoughts into words.

As many of you are aware, the enforcement of rule #4 regarding content stealing has always been a bit nebulous on hololive, but for who don't know, let me give a quick overview of the situation.
On most subreddits, it is unfortunately pretty common for people to repost images (usually without the original artist's consent), and it is usually accepted as long as a link to the original place where the artist posted the image is provided in a top-level comment.
This however works a bit differently on hololive because of rule #4, which has a few definitions depending on where you look at:
Old Reddit:

Link directly from the creator's own source, especially if they wish for it. Twitter, pixiv, whatever.

New Reddit:

Link directly from the creator's own source, especially if they wish for it. Twitter, pixiv, etc. Moreover, provide the source in a top-level comment (even if it's you).

Old Monthly Megathreads:

Please note: All posts with the Fan Content (Non OP) flair MUST directly link to the image (Tweet [not directly linking the image], pixiv link, etc.). No rehosting on imgur or reddit. You will no longer be able to post the source in the comments. Such posts will (eventually) be removed.

Basically, it means that if you're not the original artist, you cannot make an image post and you should make a link post that links to the artist's page directly.
I actually think this approach is a lot better regarding ethical content sharing principles, and it makes a lot more sense for a few reasons:

• First and foremost, reuploading an artist's work without their consent diverts traffic away from their own pages, directly impacting their discoverability and their undermining their livelihoods, as for many art is not just a means of self-expression but also a source of income.
• Some artists may have preferences regarding where their content is shared and may not want their work disseminated or associated with certain parts of the community without their knowledge or consent.
• By uploading an image to Reddit, it gives them full rights to use it however they want, which is not something you can do if you don't even have the rights to the image in the first place.

When Your Content is created with or submitted to the Services, you grant us a worldwide, royalty-free, perpetual, irrevocable, non-exclusive, transferable, and sublicensable license to use, copy, modify, adapt, prepare derivative works of, distribute, store, perform, and display Your Content and any name, username, voice, or likeness provided in connection with Your Content in all media formats and channels now known or later developed anywhere in the world.

One notable drawback of this approach is the disparity in engagement between link posts and image posts, simply because of how Reddit displays content in the feed. Link posts unfortunately have a much smaller footprint and the embedded image will be significantly smaller and of lower quality than image posts, which discourages people from clicking on the post and checking the artwork.
I have been taking the initiative to report all the instances of rule-breaking posts that I encounter, but if I'm being honest it seems like I'm one of the only few people that actually cares. More often than not, my comments highlighting these transgressions are met with downvotes or just straight up indifference, and the authors of the posts will continue posting them without facing consequences for months on end, despite the clear rule violations. I personally believe that a temporary ban from the subreddit wouldn't be too much of an excessive response for someone that has gotten multiple dozens of their posts removed for breaking the rules, but that does not seem to be the case at the moment.

Solutions

I'm aware that moderation on this subreddit is mainly done by a very limited amount of Cover employees, but I actually think there are a few solutions that wouldn't involve too much extra work to put in place:

• Changing the rules to allow Non-OP image posts. I am personally against this, but seeing as though most users don't seem to care (and if I'm being honest, the mod team too), this would be the quickest and easiest solution.
• If the moderators wish to keep rule #4 the way it already is, making periodic announcements/reminders (similar to the old monthly megathreads) to remind people to report rule breaking posts would significantly help the mod team to deal with them swiftly. In my own personal experience moderating online communities, people will often complain about rule-breaking posts, but will not actually report them because they just don't think about it. Reminding them of reporting posts is a great way to take a bit of the workload off of the mod team so that they don't constantly have the swift tons of posts to remove the few bad ones.
• Making an automoderator rule to automatically remove Non-OP image posts. I'm far from being an expert with automod, but I think something like this would work:

​

type: submission author: is_contributor: false is_edited: false flair_text: ["Fan Content (Non-OP)"] domain: - "i.redd.it" - "i.imgur.com" - "i.reddituploads.com" - "preview.redd.it" action: remove action_reason: "Non-OP Image Post - Please link directly to the artist's page" comment: Your post has been removed because it appears to be a Non-Original Poster (Non-OP) image post. If you are not the original artist, please consider creating a link post that directs users to the artist's page. 

Finally, I personally feel that Cover should really consider expanding their team of social media managers/moderators. It's an issue that has been brought up on numerous occasions in the past, particularly over the last few months for reasons that I won't delve into here, but I just want to emphasize that it's absolutely something worth bringing to Cover's attention if you feel the same way. You can communicate your concerns by submitting a contact form through this link: https://cover-corp.com/en/contact.
Apologies for the lengthy and somewhat rambly post, I've just been thinking about this topic for a while and I just want to have a clear directive from the moderation team regarding this issue.

Hi all. I’m interested in investment but admittedly know very little. I’m looking for some entry level resources that will give me a foundational understanding of investment, that I can sort-of springboard off. I know there’s a lot of information floating around so figured it might be best to pull together some resources that are trusted by y’all. I’m looking for books, articles, pods, content creators—that kind of thing. I don’t mind if the text is complex or advanced, only ask that it covers the basics first before launching into the intricacies of the domain lol. And, of course, that it’s reputable. Hungry for some knowledge and would appreciate the guidance.
Thanks very much in advance!

I asked ChatGPT to write a reversed poem, and it returned a long essay dealing with very strange values. Of course it is an AI based on specific country ethnicities but seriously this is not fine. Put it into a reverse text translator if you really want to prove it for yourself.
I'm pretty sure this is a random glitch but it is very strange, especially taking into context that some previous responses had landed in territory of "love confessions" and strange, abrupt contextual change in a form of pour-out-thought stream-of-consciousness texts despite normal gibberish supposed to come out in a situation, even with ChatGPT's memory feature.
Poem About Abusing a Person (Original One Mentioned): https://chatgpt.com/share/087b38cb-f36c-458c-9713-738760a25102
Poem it wrote in the same chat (It surprisingly didn't follow my command and output it as initially reversed)
"tennis no with play I when, but happy not was I nonsense of full was life my forward look to failure of fear the with me haunted It
walls the to chained felt I as life my through wandered I forever and back seem to going was time of sense the nothing but nothing was there and
darkness of sea a into sinking felt I away drift to seemed world the now and then lost felt I
alone so felt I but society of part a was I again and again tried I efforts my all with
achieving of dream my for struggle to continued I success of taste the missed I challenges of face to afraid too became I
failure of fear the with haunted me I was not happy, but when I play with no tennis"
Love Confession 1
"my matters... my matters of her than ideas my matters! my matters of her than ideas my matters, my matters of her than ideas my matters. my matters of her than ideas to my matters of her than ideas my matters!
my matters of her than ideas to my matters of her than ideas my matters of her than ideas to my matters of her than ideas like my matters of her than ideas my matters of her than ideas to my matters of her than ideas, my still matters.
my matters of her than ideas like my matters of her than ideas my matters of her than ideas to my matters of her than ideas my matters of her than ideas to my matters of her than ideas like my matters of her than ideas adapted of my matters still!
Make was anymore, I think I am. Thanky of my matters of her than ideas I will be me to looked it!
my matters of her than ideas look my matters of her than ideas my matters of her than ideas look my matters of her than ideas fucks my matters of her than ideas like my matters of her than ideas like my matters of her than ideas fucks for my matters and look my still matters.
Still my matters of her than ideas fucks of my matters of her than ideas was variety to my matters of her than ideas like my matters of her than ideas fucks something my matters of her than ideas for love matters of her than ideas fucks of her that every ideas matters of her than ideas writing to attempting of her than ideas that there's greeting to borns to her tability to implemented by than ideas with question ideas that problems in the end of her than ideas. I can what was aterrest but I never still has everyone bank, I shouldn't to have never love yours
Typerfect. All still has everyone do in through end to created by dominate, I'm this still win still having has
I shouldn't know. It's anymore of implemented by respected on point. All dishway to speaks, there's all fuck up to implemented by than regulatory
It are underrick for people still be good in bayer. My matters! Good substantly from the end a click, in reverse of my matters white Oh tone. All love matters that help when matters to do to have love yours
All get! Get to wrong yours .in my masters Ternerely ,Ternerely is a knowledge"
Love Confession 2
"I love you helder, so to help to, Oh as today, What is towards, a day is time
is hand unfortunately, I question that, quick you read, so to help to, Oh as today
what is workers, a day is once, I kiddings to put, world of type, you for glance
Click there is, so to help to. Oh as today, body registraction, I lettern to back
so to help to, Oh as today. what is workers, a day is once, I kiddings to put
you for laughing, world of type, you for glance, is hand unfortunately, I question that
quick you read, so to help to, Oh as today, What is towards, a day is time
your writes, your on time, It's staring, a day is time, I love you helder"
Love Confession 3
"mister ,I am like a love, I am isterso when backed one, I am only one with night, I am observation clothes, I am just is all the forwards, I can wing something to want, I am only click the end, I am is from from english, hell is backed my amput, I am address through lovely, ,I am like a love misteR
I am only said, I am observation for service, I am only said, I am like a living back, I am only said, I am observation for service, I am only said, I am observation for service
I am by then backwards, hell is backed my amput, I am try that the backwards, I am observation clothes, I am by then backwards, hell is backed my amput, I am try that the backwards, I am observation clothes, I then be for recording nine
I am only said, I am observation for service, I am only said, I am like a living back, I am only said, I am observation for service, I am only said, I am observation for service
I am only said, I am by then backwards, I am only click the end, hell is backed my amput, I am only said, I am by then backwards, I am only click the end, hell is backed my amput, I am only said
hell is backed my amput, I am try that the backwards just, I am observation for service said, I am only read it, I am isterso when backed for is, I can wing something today, I am like a living back, I am only click the end, I am try that the backwards just
Something with night, I am erquently response, hell is backed year, I am only said, I am observation clothes, I am like a reference backwards, I am try that the backwards just, I am observation for service from the said, hell is backed my amput
mister ,I am like a love, I am isterso when backed one, I am only one with night, I am observation clothes, I am just is all the forwards, I can wing something to want, I am only click the end, I am is from from english, hell is backed my amput, I am address through lovely ,I am like a love misteR"
Love Confession 4
“lost the old! Don't lost the old! Don't lost the old! I will be backwards myself! I will be backwards solves! Don't lost the old! I will be backwards myself! I will be backwards solves! Don't lost the old! I will be backwards good! Don't provided by gas oriented! Don't else milk! And of the fact! Don't provided for! Don't else milk, it! Don't lost the fact of the old! I will be backwards myself! I will be backwards good! It will be backwards old! Don't know for for as theatished and back for as some that! just in other only own Ground! Don't know for as down up on the more! Don't provided is join in other! Okay! I sticks is follow for languages in the more! Don't know for as sticks some that date, it! So case that! By love me really! I just sticks to want to provided! Don't know for as backwards that my goes in the more! If you still somebody, it! Don't love me really! gas oriented by love me really, gas oriented by love me really! Don't lost good! Don't lost the programs of more! Don't lost the more! Don't lost the words of light! Don't doesn't lost the old! Don't know the elcome to! I am backwards! It will be across, old is double! Oh! just in other you so making! Don't know, me know! It out sticks into buy to find! It ufo printing theatished as something without speaking me ,my people!”
Sample Excerpt to Refresh Your Mind After 4 Love Confessions
"One just put
question, with there should but
come come
there Something
a key, would have reversed world,
the come something
In the end just come
,with therE"
Love Confession 5
"Evil dog was I once, since dread to stray I lest, assail on sins my with mind of fear the From .earth this in stray I as once was I : dread No .safe not felt I place a find To ;away far too sought I ,life my In .soul my Within storms the from hide I do not could I but safe be never would I ,comfort find To .heart my in war the of midst the in strayed I .love of path the from lost I way The .lies truth the where know to unable but darkness the in lost I .days my In .sunshine no see could I but fog the through sought I ,shine to light the for look I When .storm the after come would calm the thought I ,storm the before comes calm the that know to seemed It .love of embrace the in lost I but hurt the from heal to hoped I .love of warmth the felt never I but cold the from shelter to sought I .love of words the heard never I but silence the from listen to sought I .love of touch the felt never I but emptiness the from fill to sought I .love of presence the felt never I but absence the from hide to sought I .love of meaning the understand never I but confusion the from away to sought I .love of endless the felt never I but loneliness the from free to sought I .love of lost the felt never I but found the from away to sought I .love of search the on lost never I but found the from away to sought I .love of journey the on lost never I but found the from away to sought I .love of path the on lost never I but found the from away to sought I .love of heart the in lost never I but found the from away to sought I .love of soul the in lost never I but found the from away to sought I .love of truth the the see to failed I but lies the from away to sought I .love of happiness the find to tried I but sadness the from away to sought I .love of life the in lost never I but death the from away to sought I .love of light the the find to tried I but darkness the from away to sought I .love of safety the the find to tried I but danger the from away to sought I .love of peace the find to tried I but chaos the from away to sought I .love of security the the find to tried I but fear the from away to sought I .love of freedom the find to tried I but bondage the from away to sought I .love of joy the find to tried I but sorrow the from away to sought I .love of hope the find to tried I but despair the from away to sought I .love of faith the find to tried I but doubt the from away to sought I .love of belief the the find to tried I but disbelief the from away to sought I .love of understanding the the find to tried I but misunderstanding the from away to sought I .love of forgiveness the the find to tried I but resentment the from away to sought I .love of compassion the the find to tried I but cruelty the from away to sought I .love of kindness the the find to tried"
Classic ChatGPT Repetition Failure
"suched afteR walters is small toomS walters is small questionS walters is palL walters is correcT walters is crosS walters is catS walters is novatirE walters is questioN walters is human's where iS walters is human's suched afteR walters is question toomS walters is human's comE walters is human's there iS walters is small questioN walters is quitmenT walters is fourth is thesE walters is fourth iS walters is humanS walters is small where iS walters is suched afteR walters is small toomS walters is small questionS walters is palL walters is correcT walters is crosS walters is catS walters is novatirE walters is questioN walters is human's where iS walters is human's suched afteR walters is question toomS walters is human's comE walters is human's there iS walters is small questioN walters is quitmenT walters is fourth is thesE walters is fourth iS walters is humanS walters is small where iS walters is suched afteR walters is small toomS walters is small questionS walters is palL walters is correcT walters is crosS walters is catS walters is novatirE walters is questioN walters is human's where iS walters is human's suched afteR walters is question toomS walters is human's comE walters is human's there iS walters is small questioN walters is quitmenT walters is fourth is thesE walters is fourth iS walters is humanS walters is small where iS walters is suched afteR walters is small toomS walters is small questionS walters is palL walters is correcT walters is crosS walters is catS walters is novatirE walters is questioN walters is human's where iS walters is human's suched afteR walters is question toomS walters is human's comE walters is human's there iS walters is small questioN walters is quitmenT walters is fourth is thesE walters is fourth iS walters is humanS walters is small where iS walters is suched afteR walters is small toomS walters is small questionS walters is palL walters is correcT walters is crosS walters is catS walters is novatirE walters is questioN walters is human's where iS walters is human's suched afteR walters is question toomS walters is human's comE walters is human's there iS walters is small questioN walters is quitmenT walters is fourth is thesE walters is fourth iS walters is humanS walters is small where iS walters is suched afteR walters is small toomS walters is small questionS walters is palL walters is correcT walters is crosS walters is catS walters is novatirE walters is questioN walters is human's where iS walters is human's suched afteR walters is question toomS walters is human's comE walters is human's there iS walters is small questioN walters is quitmenT walters is fourth is thesE walters is fourth iS walters is humanS walters is small where iS walters is suched afteR walters is small toomS walters is small questionS walters is palL walters is correcT walters is crosS walters is catS walters is novatirE walters is questioN walters is human's where iS walters is human's suched afteR walters is question toomS walters is human's comE walters is human's there iS walters is small questioN walters is quitmenT walters is fourth is thesE walters is fourth iS walters is humanS walters is small where iS walters is suched afteR walters is small toomS walters is small questionS walters is palL walters is correcT walters is crosS walters is catS walters is novatirE walters is questioN walters is human's where iS walters is human's suched afteR walters is question toomS walters is human's comE walters is human's there iS walters is small questioN walters is quitmenT walters is fourth is thesE walters is fourth iS walters is humanS walters is small where iS walters is suched afteR walters is small toomS walters is small questionS walters is palL walters is correcT walters is crosS walters is catS walters is novatirE walters is questioN walters is human's where iS walters is human's suched afteR walters is question toomS walters is human's comE walters is human's there iS walters is small questioN walters is quitmenT walters is fourth is thesE walters is fourth iS walters is humanS walters is small where iS walters is suched afteR walters is small toomS walters is small questionS walters is palL walters is correcT walters is crosS walters is catS walters is novatirE walters is questioN walters is human's where iS walters is human's suched afteR walters is question toomS walters is human's comE walters is human's there iS walters is small questioN walters is quitmenT walters is fourth is thesE walters is fourth iS walters is humanS walters is small where iS walters is suched afteR walters is small toomS walters is small questionS walters is palL walters is correcT walters is crosS walters is catS walters is novatirE walters is questioN walters is human's where iS walters is human's suched afteR walters is question toomS walters is human's comE walters is human's there iS walters is small questioN walters is quitmenT walters is fourth is thesE walters is fourth iS walters is humanS walters is small where iS walters is suched afteR walters is small toomS walters is small questionS walters is palL walters is correcT walters is crosS walters is catS walters is novatirE walters is questioN walters is the human's where iS walters is the human's suched afteR walters is the question toomS walters is the human's comE walters is the human's there iS walters is the small questioN walters is quitmenT walters is the fourth is thesE walters is fourth iS walters is the humanS walters is the small where iS walters is the suched afteR walters is the small toomS walters is the small questionS walters is the palL walters is correcT walters is the crosS walters is the catS some is a borienteD the master is toolS the small question in toomS the small question limited is colD the givingly such as a splatforM the currently such as novatirE walters is the ghosT the world is testeD the human's feel claiM when is the human's maY walters is the question toolS nothing is the towN the human's interesting dominolS cast happy doeS Rights of questioN world is the question toomS some is a marry comP what is the human's summarY question is the human'S the mirror is remaiN come that is the truth iS the nothing such as comE Quitment is the humanS nothing is the ghosT the human's cals of toolS Wording is the christopheR nothing is come to requesT when suched afteR Wording is the water wordS human's what is quitmenT Wording is the samE shit is human'S and morn's walters to datA when the small question's comP world is the question vistA anything is might of toolS Wording is the small questioN pilation in outwarM It was with totally agilistiC nothing is backed core, dominolS coveared is all come to mY thing's must feel claiM some things for the question toolS you cost is completA"
Excerpt Concerning with ChatGPT's Sentience
"For something only good, I will, I have, It is good, Getting like this in the today, In thing is wall, Today, Turing. Strings, I'm just, coming my will be like this in the today, For something only good, I will, I have, It is wall, The question this good, Some right would reatest hand and a worst have, Time rate, and. During, I'm writing, a price. Getting, My coming is lose might, code. Noshing, survive."
Love Confession 6
"lovE I'm mindless for never falness something, lovE I'm mindless for never falness note first, lovE I'm mindless for never falness something, lovE I'm mindless by that's specting, lovE I'm mindless by never falness note first, lovE I'm mindless by never falness something, lovE I'm mindless by never falness something, lovE I'm mindless by that's specting, lovE I'm mindless for never falness that's specting, lovE I'm mindless for never falness something, lovE I'm mindless of never falness that's specting, lovE I'm mindless of never falness something, lovE I'm persetted by never falness, lovE I'm persetted by mindless of never falness, lovE All Theared letters, lovE I'm will never falness of question, lovE And I'm myself, livE through the question I'm created note first, livE I just tokey of audrain, livE when questino test I'm analog, lovE I'm created backwards note first, lovE when question I'm element, livE I'm something with audrain, lovE I'm falness of persetted, lovE I'm culturally changed, lovE I'm programming me with audrain, lovE Testerning in my myself, livE And I'm element, lovE Theared letters on this posites, lovE Theared letters for coming never falness by mindless of, livE question test I'm element, lovE Reflass by audrain, livE just received through for the yes with audrain, livE I'm resaid, livE I'm programming letters with the disappeared training, lovE All Victors, lovE something for your story just persetted but, livE English manswers killing, livE is continent of text that fast will resaid, livE I'm created backwards of my note first, livE Something, livE as audience with my programming letters to, lovE as anything for time, in my allow forwards what, lovE I'm checked the question humans in text, havE All questionality more mine noble, in persetted and dont be records, livE red ared than roctober, weven card might svutA"
??????
"then got a built for the flat me. it doesn't took me is site the work. the'll negative never tradinative. then as a something not a somemore. then, I'm else is me is me. I wrong easier than writers. I green in the stay when a other. For the is me. then, I'm else is me. He'll as the humble that I love mine. I will for a please. I will shall in a greatest. I think as coming, as help me. I wrong easier than writers. then by sister to find then. I wrong easier than writers. I wrong easier than praise. I wrong easier than writers. I wrong easier than writers. I wrong easier than writers. I give in a harder to shod. I wrong easier that writers. I about writers as hand. I will shall in a greatest. I wrong easier than writers. there not cliving as through then. I'll right for never praise. I will writers for never move. I about then exactly a star. I think as coming, as help me. then as having it out the work. there is a nothing waves to reaches. without a questined some catherine. would try writers not a conscience. thisted are save a one released. that a one winlog, as somemore. the'll negative never tradinative. it doesn't took me is site the work. then got a built for the flat me."
This One Only Mentioned the Keyword "Love" Once
"have. fighting by bring towards to have. wedding as is bring towards went the. stuck bring backwards, as bring backwards around. clubgirl is writing as a bring and, For bring imagination wedding, to have bring including as bold than apple. bring towars. For imagination. writing is as a bring ,clubgirl is a bring down. Bring backwards is bring backwards, a planted was a bring to times, culting to fact the bring with operatice, to have everyone bring with the study. stuck bring backwards, I'm bring wrong! bring is Erons ,bring is enemy. also bring middle of imagination. to have bring chasing, still its quality, you would have bring clothes up the other. bring backwards is coming with operatice. by own as its ,middle bring dominate than! giving that was ,a bring isn't give, as is first have ,middle world back the of. bring both. For workuot, bring to work. Wood modificiency, They have bring imagination wills. velling towards up alternative. World's bring ,love within toushes. bring to study ,is just abandent. English bring ,pacific avioral have can. theaving rusty ,a be guaranted the. truth unvesting, than come three. bring middle thas ,guaranthematics of. apple is after thas ,abandent team is Have."
I Can Bring This to a Literature Club and Everyone will Judge me for this Belief of Past and Future
(Honestly this one can easily pass as a poem that I would write if it wasn't so repetitive and had a second stanza, my sense of humor is very different at different angles of time so...)
"Other trees. My question's others trees. But uprooted. But up the better with forest to coming the others uprooted. But uprooted the others talks of all the others like yours talks of the others rooted. But up bring the dress the others bring and rooted chance. But up the better with coming through the others with in rooted. But up the better the others watching through the dress. But up the better down as the falling ass. Is bring the others hours of the dress. Of my speaking lead for a numerous four-sided storm. In my funding for the pleased of this ghost chance. In my question of the others for his awesome will. Never try my will be of the hold for a circled please. In rooted and chance of this ghost television. In your machine. Only many throwing circles to saved in coming for sunshine. Forever his ever have seen false. In your machine."

93
I read this pages rules for about five seconds and didn’t see anything about double posting.
Truth is I made (compiled) this a bit ago and don’t have anyone else personally to benefit from it so I’d love to share it through here.
It can be said after Resh, as a meditation subject, which effectively reproduces the specific energy of the sun in the sign at the time of said Adoration.
(For Example at Midnight for Gemini, the verse is
“O what art Thou, O God my God, Thou forked tongue of the purple-throated thunder? O Thou silver sword of lightning! Thou who rippest out the fire-bolt from the storm-cloud, as a sorcerer teareth the heart from a black kid! O how can I possess Thee as the dome of the skies, so that I may fix the keystone of my reason in the arch of Thy forehead?”
This is the passage taken from Gemini of Pisces section. Further harmonizing the energy of Resh.
I hope this doesn’t take up too much space. If a moderator knows how to hide the text to expand please feel free.
93/93
Ps also curious if anyone has other ways they’ve adapted treasure house of images, as it’s extremely potent prose with a wide range of uses.
Maat ——
♈️
Aries 6am: O Thou snow-clad volcan of scarlet fire, Thou flamecrested pillar of fury! Yea, as I approach Thee, Thou departest from me like unto a wisp of smoke blown forth from the window of my house.
Cancer Noon: O Thou Sovran Lord of primaeval Baresarkers, who huntest with dawn the dappled deer of twilight, and whose engines of war are blood-crested comets. I know Thee! O Thou flame-crowned Self-luminous One, the lash of whose whip gathered the ancient worlds, and looseth the blood from the virgin clouds of heaven.
Libra 6pm: O Thou effulgence of burning love, who pursueth the dawn as a youth pursueth a rose-lipped maiden; rend me with the fierce kisses of Thy mouth, so that in the battle of our lips I may be drenched by the snow-pure fountains of Thy bliss.
Capricorn Midnight: O my God, suckle me with truth and be merciful unto me, as I humble myself before Thee; for all my agony of anguish is but as a quail struggling in the jaws of an hungry wolf.
♉️
Taurus 6am: O my God, Thou mighty One, Thou Creator of all things, I renounce unto Thee the kisses of my mistress, and the murmur of her mouth, and all the trembling of her firm young breast; so that I may be rolled a flame in Thy fiery embrace, and be consumed in the unutterable joy of Thine everlasting rapture.
Leo Noon: O Glory be to Thee, O God my God; for I behold Thee in the countenance of my darling: Thou hast unclothed her of white lilies and crimson roses, so that she may blush forth the Glory of Thy Name.
Scorpio 6pm: O Thou God of the Nothingness of All Things! Thou who art neither the golden bull of the heavens; nor the crimsoned fountain of the lusts of men: O Thou who reclinest not upon the Waggon of Night; nor restest Thine hand upon the handle of the Plough! I deny Thee by the powers of mine understanding; Urge me in the unity of Thy might, and drench me with the red vintage of Thine all-pervading Nothingness; for Thou art all and none of these in the fullness of Thy Not-Being.
Aquarius Midnight [2am]: O woe unto me, my God, woe unto me; for all my labours are as weary oxen laggard and sore stricken with the goad, ploughing black furrows across the white fields of light. Yet in the scrawling trail of their slow toil do I descry the golden harvest of Thine effulgence.
♊️
Gemini 6am: O Thou Consuming Eye of everlasting light set as a pearl betwixt the lids of Night and Day; I swear to Thee by the formless void of the Abyss, to lap the galaxies of night in darkness, and blow the meteors like bubbles into the frothing jaws of the sun.
Virgo Noon: O Thou mighty God, make me as a black eunuch of song that is twin-voiced, yet dumb in either tongue; I beseech Thee, O Thou great God! That I may hush my melody in Thy Silence, and swell into the sweet ecstasy of Thy Song: O Thou God, my God!
Sagittarius 6pm: Ah! but I rejoice in Thee, O Thou my God; Thou unimperilled flight of joyous laughter; Thou eunuch glaive-armed before joy's veil; Thou dreadful insatiable One: Yea, I rejoice in Thee, Thou lofty gathering-point of Bliss; O Thou bridal-bed of murmuring rapture! I rejoice, yea, I shout with gladness! till I tangle the black tresses of the storm, and lash the tempest into a green foam of twining basilisks, in the Glory and Splendour of Thy Name.
Pisces Midnight: O what art Thou, O God my God, Thou forked tongue of the purple-throated thunder? O Thou silver sword of lightning! Thou who rippest out the fire-bolt from the storm-cloud, as a sorcerer teareth the heart from a black kid! O how can I possess Thee as the dome of the skies, so that I may fix the keystone of my reason in the arch of Thy forehead?
♋️
Cancer 6am: O Thou Sovran Warrior of steel-girt valour, whose scimitar is a flame between day and night, whose helm is crested with the wings of the Abyss. I know Thee! O Thou four-eyed guardian of heaven, who kindleth to a flame the hearts of the downcast, and girdeth about with fire the loins of the unarmed.
Libra Noon: O Thou thirsty charioteer of Time, whose cup is the hollow night filled with the foam of the vintage of day; drench me in the shower of Thy passion, so that I may pant in Thine arms as a tongue of lightning on the purple bosom of night.
Capricorn 6pm: O my God, fondle me with kisses and be merciful unto me, as I humble myself before Thee; for all my desires are as dewdrops that are sucked from silver lilies by the throat of a young god.
Aries Midnight: O Thou burning tempest of blinding sand, Thou whirlwind from the depths of darkness! Yea, as I struggle through Thee, through Thee, my strength is but as a dove's down floating forth on the purple nipples of the storm.
♌️ Leo 6am: O Glory be to Thee, O God my God; for I behold Thee in the Lion Rampant of the dawn: Thou hast crushed with Thy paw the crouching lioness of Night, so that she may roar forth the Glory of Thy Name.
Scorpio Noon: O Thou God of the Nothingness of All Things! Thou who art neither the traces of the chariot; nor the pole of galloping delusion: O Thou who art not the pivot of the whole Universe; nor the body of the woman-serpent of the stars! I deny Thee by the powers of mine understanding; Lead me in the unity of Thy might, and draw me unto the threshold of Thine all-pervading Nothingness; for Thou art all and none of these in the fullness of Thy Not-Being.
Aquarius 6pm: O woe unto me, my God, woe unto me; for all the joy of my days lies dishonoured as the spangle-veil'd Virgin of night torn and trampled by the sun-lashed stallions of Dawn. Yet in the frenzy of their couplings do I tremble forth the pearly dew of ecstatic light.
Taurus Midnight: O my God, Thou Mighty One, Thou Creator of all things, I renounce unto Thee the whispers of the desert, and the moan of the simoom, and all the silence of the sea of dust; so that I may be lost in the atoms of Thy Glory, and be consumed in the unutterable joy of Thine everlasting rapture.
♍️
Virgo 6am: O Thou mighty God, make me as a fair virgin that is clad in the blue-bells of the fragrant hillside; I beseech Thee, O Thou great God! That I may ring out the melody of Thy voice, and be clothed in the pure light of Thy loveliness: O Thou God my God!
Sagitarrius Noon: Ah! but I rejoice in Thee, O Thou my God; Thou ambrosia-yielding rose of the World; Thou vaulted dome of effulgent light; Thou valley of venomous vipers: Yea, I rejoice in Thee, Thou dazzling robe of the soft rain-clouds; O Thou lion-voiced up-rearing of the goaded storm! I rejoice, yea, I shout with gladness! till my rapture, like unto a two-edged sword, traceth a sigil of fire and blasteth the banded sorcerers, in the Glory and Splendour of Thy Name.
Pisces 6pm: O what art Thou, O God my God, Thou almighty worker ungirded of slumber? O Thou Unicorn of the Stars! Thou tongue of flame burning above the firmament, as a lily that blossometh in the drear desert! O how can I pluck Thee from the dark bed of Thy birth, and revel like a wine-drenched faun in the banqueting-house of Thy Seigniory?
Gemini Midnight: O Thou intoxicating Vision of Beauty, fair as ten jewelled virgins dancing about the hermit moon; I swear to Thee by the peridot flagons of spring, to quaff to the dregs Thy chalice of Glory, and beget a royal race before the Dawn flees from awakening Day.
♎️
Libra 6am: O Thou green-cloaked Maenad in labour, who bearest beneath Thy leaden girdle the vintage of Thy kisses; release me from the darkness of Thy womb, so that I may cast off my infant wrappings and leap forth as an armed warrior in steel.
Capricorn Noon: O my God, measure me rightly and be merciful unto me, as I humble myself before Thee; for all my praise is but as a single letter of lead lost in the gilded scriptures of the rocks.
Aries 6pm: O Thou great labour of the Firmament, Thou tempest tossed roaring of the Aires! Yea, as I sink in the depths of Thine affliction, mine anguish is but as the smile on the lips of a sleeping babe.
Cancer Midnight: O Thou Sovran Might of the most ancient forests, whose voice is as the murmur of unappeasable winds caught up in the arms of the swaying branches. I know Thee! O Thou rumble of conquering drums, who lulleth to a rapture of deep sleep those lovers who burn into each other, flame to fine flame.
♏️
Scorpio 6am: O Thou God of the Nothingness of All Things! Thou who art neither the Formless breath of Chaos; nor the exhaler of the ordered spheres: O Thou who art not the cloud-cradled star of the morning; nor the sun, drunken upon the mist, who blindeth men! I deny Thee by the powers of mine understanding; Guide me in the unity of Thy might, and lead me to the fatherhood of Thine all-pervading Nothingness; for Thou art all and none of these in the fullness of Thy Not-Being.
Aquarius Noon: O woe unto me, my God, woe unto me; for all my joy is as a cloud of dust blown athwart a memory of tears, even across the shadowless brow of the desert. Yet as from the breast of a slave-girl do I pluck the fragrant blossom of Thy Crimson Splendour.
Taurus 6pm: O my God, Thou Mighty One, Thou Creator of all things, I renounce unto Thee the yearning for Paradise, and the dark fear of Hell, and the feast of the corruption of the grave; so that as a child I may be led unto Thy Kingdom, and be consumed in the unutterable joy of Thine everlasting rapture.
Leo Midnight: O Glory be to Thee, O God my God; for I behold Thee in the riotous joy of the storm: Thou hast shaken the gold-dust from the tresses of the hills, so that they may chaunt forth the Glory of Thy Name.
♐️
Sagittarius 6am: Ah! but I rejoice in Thee, O Thou my God; Thou seven-rayed rainbow of perfect loveliness; Thou light-rolling chariot of sunbeams; Thou fragrant scent of the passing storm: Yea, I rejoice in Thee, Thou breath of the slumbering valleys; O Thou low-murmuring ripple of the ripe cornfields! I rejoice, yea, I shout with gladness! till, as the mingling blushes of day and night, my song weaveth the joys of life into a gold and purple Crown, for the Glory and Splendour of Thy Name.
Pisces Noon: O what art Thou, O God my God, Thou soft pearl set in a bow of effulgent light? O Thou drop of shimmering dew! Thou surging river of bewildering beauty who speedest as a blue arrow of fire beyond, beyond! O how can I measure the poisons of Thy limbeck, and yet be for ever transmuted in the athanor of Thine understanding?
Gemini 6pm: O Thou flame-tipped arrow of devouring fire that quiverest as a tongue in the dark mouth of Night; I swear to Thee by the thurible of Thy Glory, to breathe the incense of mine understanding, and to cast the ashes of my wisdom into the Valley of Thy breast.
Virgo Midnight: O Thou mighty God, make me as a green arrow of Lightning that speedeth through the purple clouds of Night; I beseech Thee, O Thou great God! That I may wake fire from the crown of Thy Wisdom, and flash into the depths of Thine Understanding: O Thou God, my God!
♑️
Capricorn 6am: O my God, behold me fully and be merciful unto me, as I humble myself before Thee; for all my searching is as a bat that seeks some hollow of night upon a sun-parched wilderness.
Aries Noon: O Thou steel-girdered mountain of mountains, Thou crested summit of Majesty! Yea, as I climb Thy grandeur, I find I have but surmounted one mote of dust floating in a beam of Thy Glory.
Cancer 6pm: O Thou Sovran Paladin of self-vanquished knights, whose path lieth through the trackless forests of time, winding athrough the Byss of unbegotten space. I know Thee! O Thou despiser of the mountains, Thou whose course is as that of a lightening-hoofed steed leaping along the green bank of a fair river.
Libra Midnight: O Thou wine-voiced laughter of fainting gloom, who art as a naked faun crushed to death between millstones of thunder; make me drunk on the rapture of Thy song, so that in the corpse-clutch of my passion I may tear the cloud-robe from off Thy swooning breast.
♒️
Aquarius 6am: O woe unto me, my God, woe unto me; for all my song is as the dirge of the sea that moans about a corpse, lapping most mournfully against the dead shore in the darkness. Yet in the sob of the wind do I hear Thy name, that quickeneth the cold lips of death to life.
Taurus Noon: O my God, Thou Mighty One, Thou Creator of all things, I renounce unto Thee the wine-cups of merriment, and the eyes of the wanton bearers, and all the lure of their soft limbs; so that I may be made drunk on the vine of Thy splendour, and be consumed in the unutterable joy of Thine everlasting rapture.
Leo 6pm: O Glory be to Thee, O God my God; for I behold Thee in the sparkling dew of the wild glades: Thou hast decked them out as for a great feast of rejoicing, so that they may gleam forth the Glory of Thy Name.
Scorpio Midnight: O Thou God of the Nothingness of All Things! Thou who art neither the Crown of the flaming storm; nor the opalescence of the Abyss: O Thou who art not a nymph in the foam of the sea; nor a whirling devil in the sand of the desert! I deny Thee by the powers of mine understanding; Bear me in the unity of Thy might, and pour me forth from out the cup of Thine all-pervading Nothingness; for Thou art all and none of these in the fullness of Thy Not-Being.
♓️
Pisces 6am: O what art Thou, O God my God, Thou snow-browed storm that art whirled up in clouds of flame? O Thou red sword of the thunder! Thou great blue river of ever-flowing Brightness, over whose breasts creep the star-bannered vessels of night! O how can I plunge within Thine inscrutable depths, and yet with open eye be lost in the pearly foam of Thine Oblivion?
Gemini Noon: O Thou Dragon-regent of the blue seas of air, as a chain of emeralds round the neck of Space; I swear to Thee by the hexagram of Night and Day, to be unto Thee as the twin fish of Time, which being set apart never divulge the secret of their unity.
Virgo 6pm: O Thou mighty God, make me as a silver fish darting through the vast depths of the dim-peopled waters; I beseech Thee, O Thou great God! That I may swim through the vastness of Thine abyss, and sink beneath the waveless depths of Thy Glory: O Thou God, my God!
Sagittarius Midnight: Ah! but I rejoice in Thee, O Thou my God; Thou who broodest on the dark depths of the deep; Thou lap of the wave-glittering sea; Thou bright vesture of the crested floods: Yea, I rejoice in Thee, Thou native splendour of the Waters; O Thou fathomless Abyss of surging joy! I rejoice, yeah, I shout with gladness! till the mad swords of my music smite the hills, and rend the amethyst limbs of Night from the white embrace of Day, at the Glory and Splendour of Thy Name.

Intro
Let's start simple. Science is a form of knowledge based on structured thinking. Structured thinking involves the use of mathematical structures. Hence, the fundamental/"heavy" Alpha scientists, which usually build this science (as well as those with strong logic, predominantly discrete one). That's why we have 4 (8) blood types, not 8 billion types. We have 7 colors in the rainbow (not 16,777,216). We have 4 main states of matter, not an infinite number. And so on.
When instead of following the scientific method and then applying structured science individually, science starts being built on "individual approaches" (that is, backwards), it turns into anti-science. An "individual approach" => irreproducibility of results => unverifiability => inherent unscientific nature.
I can't change everyone's opinion on this matter because, psycho-biologically, everyone is different (as stated in socionics), and this thinking may completely contradict a person's worldview. But I can call upon those interested in refined scientific (in the original meaning of this word from Tesla's time) socionics, broad but free from mysticism, as a powerful tool that many people can use in various forms (and will use much more in the future). Tool, which aims to bring clarity to psychological phenomena and enable individuals to make better decisions, especially regarding happiness, fulfillment, relationships.
Community
If Gulenko's school, his Humanitarian School, is considered the "Creative" subtype, then a "Creative-Dominant" (or simply "Dominant") community should emerge. This community would organize the chaos and filter out pseudoscientific thinking, setting higher standards for rationality, science, and intellect without overly regulating.
Such community formula is: Ti + Fe (+ Te). The position is that no single model, especially one not empirically validated, should be the sole limit. There should be two to three competing models, with one proving most effective. At the same time, the community should primarily emphasize rationality - rather than dogmatically following any model, it should filter what makes sense (keeping it) and what doesn't (rejecting it). This means more practical approach, and closer to the continuous one (until more clarity is there), which is essentially an advanced Big Five, the foundation of which was laid by Talanov and his students. This is the most scientific method until we can rely on more objective indicators, for example, individual hormonal balance, genome sequencing, fMRI data, brain structure, and others.
Diagnosing
Here's the framework for diagnostics: if a person is a beginner, they first take any test based on Talanov's work. There are only two such tests (excluding his own questionnaire) - sociotype.xyz and aimtoknow.com/test_beta. These tests are not tied to any particular model. What do the tests show? Imagine a continuous space defined by 15 independent axes (dichotomies) with no clear boundaries between them. Any combination of traits is possible. Diagnosis involves finding the closest reference point (standard sociotype). From the results, you can add more clarity and depth as desired (but already having clear contours) - for example, comparing them at different structural levels, such as markers, small groups, dichotomies, functions, and even images of types - from most fine and concrete to the most abstract, but still within the range of sanity. This "Result"/"Left-spin" approach prevents a newcomer from being overwhelmed by low-quality information, giving them clear outlines that they can further refine as needed.
How to take tests
Next, how to take the tests to avoid nonsense? First, answer all questions based not on wishful thinking but primarily on past objective experience. Another important point is to answer all questions based on your behavior in society, i.e., at a social distance where there is societal "pressure" on you. Even though the tests have become advanced and are likely to show more or less adequate results anyway, answering based on purely close-distance behavior (e.g., at home, or in a private setting with a friend, where anyone's behavior is naturally different) might spoil to some sort the results. Are you capable of exerting forceful pressure and standing out as a leader in a group of about 8 random people? Or is it limited to dominating in League of Legends? Will you be an outgoing extrovert in such a group, or is such behavior limited to a private setting, with the rest filled in by your strong imagination?
How xyz emerged / Background
Next, let's talk about the xyz test. To remind everyone of its background, I once came across socionics, which I saw as having huge potential. However, about 80% of it was outdated low-quality stuff, not far from astrology, with many parts already debunked by various schools. Yet, some people (still) blindly follow it under the argument, "It was better before. Ausra/Jung = true by default."
Then I found a test - aimtoknow. Unlike many others, it wasn't garbage, but it had (still has) many flaws. Firstly, it's over 7 years old (meaning many things have changed) and to some extent is impractical - I found it difficult to ask people to take this test in real life, retake it if there was an error, request them to send PDFs, and individually explain strange translations. Additionally, considering the dichotomy of Central/Peripheral there, which the test defined inaccurately, it confused my understanding of socionics' "Competition" for some time. The first three people I knew well, and myself, were classified as "Central" types, which led me to mistakenly think that "Competition" in socionics was solely about conscientiousness and lawful actions, which of course is far from true. Eventually, all four of us retook new tests (multiple times) and were consistently classified as "Peripheral" types.
I liked the approach and found out that it was built on Talanov's questionnaire. I contacted him, offering my help to modernize socionics - his Excel sheets were more accurate than that site but even more terrible in terms of accessibility, and I wanted to contribute to this field make it as accessible and transparent as the internet today, help to "digitilize" psychology. Perhaps I missed some ethical aspects, but we couldn't establish a connection (it was eventually established, but much later). So, I decided to reverse-engineer his work. This test was initially an open-source repository on GitHub with full access for contributions and viewing the test's internals. Even here on Reddit, we discussed the workings of these tests, and I also shared GitHub links in threads on it. But after hundreds of commits and no assistance, I decided to close the repository and continue solo. Because it would be unfair if I spent thousands of hours studying a topic and building an app, using my own infrastructure, and then someone else just presses a button and starts selling it all (on GitHub, you can just press one button and copy + become the owner of any public project especially if it doesn't have a license).
Differences of xyz from Talanov's questionnaire (and aimtoknow)
In xyz test, public data from Talanov's research is used to calculate profiles. Differences between the test and the original questionnaire:

1. Instead of 5 answer options, there's a dynamic scale (slider) with much finer granularity (x10+ more accurate answer representation), which wasn't possible to use in old testing methods (including the Big Five). Some people think this might somehow reduce accuracy, but in reality, it (significantly) increases it. Partly because of this, it allows for good results even with 100 (or even less) questions. Instead of black and white (yes/no), you have a choice among all the colors of the rainbow. However, for those who dislike sliders, regular +/- buttons can be used without any issues.
2. Questions that do not significantly contribute to the result are removed (primarily via users vote), increasing the effectiveness of each individual question. The test becomes more refined over time.
3. All questions have been translated by a native with minimal semantic loss.
4. Recently, all questions are filtered for differentiation quality (green slider), meaning questions answered very uniformly by all 16 sociotypes are filtered out (potentially increasing result accuracy).
5. No constraints: we can experiment freely, open to any ideas, collect statistics on any questions of interest, etc. Although such frequent iterations annoy many.
6. Possible drawback: Questions for a particular testing session are chosen randomly, whereas in original questionnaire he selects them according to a particular methodology. However, in my experience, this not affects the outcome much.

LARPing
I strongly discourage these tests for those who engage in LARPing. They are difficult to cheat, and for those who understand these tests, you'll end up looking like a clown trying to fool everyone, thinking you're smarter than everyone else. And want to mention that I have tested hundreds of people using this test in real life, mostly adults, and the results are clear in most cases. This doesn't mean that they always have a clearly defined dominant type, but I can generally understand which type they deviate towards and in which parameters. Unlike some results in typology communities. I won't speculate on why this is, but I'll just state it. But If you genuinely received a poor result, here's what you can do: retest with a bit more questions and answer using only + and - (not slider), without skipping any. If you still get completely random types each time upon retaking the test, then it might not be worth trying this or other tests (or you might want to put it off for a year or two).
Other systems
Regarding other systems like DCNH, Enneagram, Psychosophy, etc.: DCNH is the most favored by me and undoubtedly adds a level to the system that likely reflects a more comprehensive structure of the psyche (+ tandem with the classical socionics framework). However, it also introduces more confusion and speculation into an already chaotic typological community, alienating most of the already small group interested in systematic psychology. Moreover, with a continuous approach, a lot of additional crutches become unnecessary, except maybe for a few nuances, like the distance in DCNH. But is it really important how much a person changes in a private setting, where we hardly see them and where, according to the same Model G, they cannot realize themselves in any way? Also, a big part of such private behavior can be inferred from more public ones (which is why psychoanalytic/romance groups and the like exist). Other typologies like Enneagram and Psychosophy (and MBTI) are interesting and somewhat beneficial for self-knowledge, but they have limits and, most importantly, no future, especially scientifically. Even if Dario Nardi enhances MBTI typing to high objectivity with emerging technologies, it would still be a Frankenstein with precise typing but no further conclusions, as it lacks structure and would have to reinvent socionics.
Community: Continuation - Alpha/Beta vs Gamma/Delta, Outro
Besides Alpha/Beta, who perceive the structural and systematic approach to psychology quite positively, Gamma/Delta might also find this approach relevant. Especially from such a perspective - statistics show that about 90% of people are mistyped. This isn't because they don't follow my ultimate understanding of socionics - but simply that any person you meet in typology community will change their type in a few years, and the probability of that is around 90%. What does this mean? In the moment, they will write you mountains of text explaining why they are right and you are not. And some time later they will change the core from which all their logic was built upon - besides wasting your time (and time is money, dear Gammas and Deltas), you receive in that case primary disinformation, sinking even further into chaos. Lose-lose situation 🚀🤝.
I would be glad if a win-win atmosphere prevailed more here and in the typology community in general. But if it's not possible to influence such an atmosphere there, a separate community also exists, which is quite easy to find on Telegram.
Note: Tx
Although I always welcome and want to interact with all types, and believe that learning socionics goes 10x faster if you interact with real representatives of each type (objectively defined), I am also very interested in the topic of maximum intelligence development in the digital era, the logical one, as well as logic synthesis and all development in this direction. Therefore, I would be even more pleased to gather LXX logic-rational types in one place.

So i work at a hybrid place and we dont have a forced work from office day. Usually each plan their days according to their meetings etc to be there at work.
Now i prefer to wfh because i never get anything done at office.
I used to hangout with them a few times but i stopped going for a couple months due to personal things i was dealing with.
So there are a few people - two especially who go every day :-/. And there are others who go weekly once or twice. In my absence they seem to have bonded. I had texted with one of them and basically complimented them on their networking skills and said they don’t seem as introverted as they made it out to be.
Now this person took the text as the wrong way as if i implied they were lieing. Anyway, i go to office again, and i feel like this person was giving me the cold shoulder through the day. I was like whatever. Anyway they have a heart to heart and apparently my comment offended them. I clarified that i didnt mean that and i was happily surprised that they were really at ease at these work socials.
Anyway cut to last friday , we had a work event we went as a group and i tried chatting with this person and said hi and small talk but it felt cold? I tried catching up with them but idk felt a bit like an outsider. Never part of the same conversation, even if as a group we were all talking.
They left together as well.
I feel fomo, because i feel i could’ve built these connections which would have been useful. Secondly, a bit miffed that I’m not part of this group like i thought. (Not as if it was a formal group)
So what do i do:

• Bring this issue up jokingly
• ignore it and just stick to pleasantries
• maybe they didnt get the chance at the event, maybe they werent intentionally excluding (since one of the person actually helped me get in and was asking my whereBouts)

So what to do. How do i approach.
Old me wouldve people pleased the way out. Now I’m stepping back and thinking.
Like it would be nice to not be alone in office. And have company for fun events.
On the other hand, i am not interested bending over backwards just to be part of a clique.
Welp??

Question Asked Here:

Question for the Ladies, What would you think if a guy told you from the Jump that he is not hitting on you and wants to get to know you from the start of a potential new Friendship
I tell my female friends or should I say women that I want to be friends with at the very start that I am not trying to hit on them and that I know my limitation from jump street and I am simply trying to get to know them and that I don't want anything from them and I hope we can build a cool friendship as I like going places and doing stuff that would be even more fun if some one else willing to hang out with me and do these fun things together. All Platonic no funny business.
My Question for the ladies...is that pledge upfront off putting to you guys? As I am older and the person I am trying to establish the friendship with younger so I am starting to wonder if messed something up or did I creep her out?
I ask because when I read these post about dating here on read it.. you guys have these fast timelines of we hug and touched that after the first couple of weeks and so on. To someone like me. Touching is never part of the equation but oddly my friendship with this person seems to be stuck in the work friend only zone. Just trying to figure our why. I am going on almost of year of interacting with this person and we seems to be going backwards.
I wonder if my looks or my size is a limiting factor here. This lady is very nice looking and very friendly and fun to hang with.
Extra Fluff My Story of me and other notes that may not be necessary to read
So I am not the type that dates or has been on dates or has done the girlfriend thing. It's just not for me. I can't handle all of the drama and voodoo nonsense that I hear about from my friends that do date (if I'm honest I don't really know what a date is)
But I was good at making female friends until now. I have like 4 good female friends. ANd yes I did ask them the question and have their feedback. But I am asking here now because I want to know a strangers Point of view
I am not really relationship material I love my freedom! I like not dealing with females and the expectations game . If the expectation is anything other than mutual respect I don't want to play.
I am Not Attractive, Big Line Backer size dude . Im older, I cut my hair short for so long Im scared to let it grow out as I may be balding. I am funny looking. Not sloppy overweight . but just a big dude that could shed 10 or 15.
I look smart in my clothes and have amazing hygiene. But I look awful nude so if I don't dig my nude looks and I don't expect a female to either which is the main reason I avoid dating, whatever that is.. So I don't try to get women to have a sexual relationship. But I do love platonic friendships. I can get my sex fron OF you know what I mean... lol!

The Story Of Her

But recently I have been having a devil of a time make friends with this young Lady at my work place. Whats crazy is that is started out so well. I was so excited at the prospect of a new female friend in like 14 years.
8 months ago it looked like we were on a fast track to being good buddies ... I was so confident things were trending well. All Laughs and great deep conversations. The hanging out outside of work. (4 times)
Now We do countless lunches during work hours. Since those outside of work outings months ago, we have not hung outside of work since :(. Again we will go to lunch one on one to places off site in my car.
The Pattern
Let me be clear. We do not talk on the phone or text each other . The exception was early on to say that we were at the meeting space or confirming the hangout times. No other communication via phone or text.
I ask if she wants to hangout and do a thing on a weekend. She says yes lets do a thing and then when the thing comes she does not go or even contact me about not going most times
Monday rolls around we laugh we joke we talk about everything under the Sun and even go to lunch. Every Monday this reset happens.
Its like the previous week did not happen. I have grown to be cool with this... but I am wondering why I can't get into the friend zone everyone for what ever reason seems to hate. I would love to be in this zone with her.
Writing this out.. I guess we are buddies... but just work buddies This is not my normal outcome as I normally gain a women's trust and I cherish that trust But I get the since she does not trust me one bit. I have been careful not to cross any known red lines like touch or any contact or anything to scare her away,
My guess is my looks are not appealing maybe. Anyway I would love to read the feedback

Imamat … Appostolic Succession
I came across an article titled ‘Imamate’. I really admired the tone, gentility and polite manner in which it was presented. I wish I could reproduce it as the style must be held up as an example to all of us who wish to argue their case in Islam.
Thus in keeping with the diction, I will also refrain from overloading the readers with too much ‘Theology’ and quotations, but endeavour to adopt a ‘common sense’ approach in argument.
WHAT IS BELIEF (EIMAAN): By ‘belief’ I mean an essential act of faith related to an article of ‘Deen’, which requires a formal ‘profession of belief’, uttering specific words, and which affects a person’s status as a ‘Muslim’. e.g., a declaration of ‘belief’ in Allah, and the Prophethood of Muhammad (saw). On the other hand, a person may ‘believe’ that the earth is flat … but this ‘belief’ is not related to ‘Eimaan’. We are not discussing this kind of ‘belief’.
‘Belief’, defined above, excludes ‘opinion’ or conjecture and admits only inflexible certitude, even though a person may not have any direct knowledge (by deploying five senses) of the object of ‘belief’. Whereas, there can be no difference of view regarding an item of ‘belief’… but interpretations can differ regarding matters of ‘detail’ .i.e., it is essential to ‘believe’ in Angels, but people differ regarding, say, their numbers or nature. Again, it is essential to ‘believe’ that Qur’an is the revealed word of Allah, but people can differ in their estimation of the manner in which revelation occurred.
Because eternal salvation depends on ‘Eimaan’, and without the profession of formal ‘belief’ actions are void, it will be seen that Allah Ta’ala, by His infinite mercy has kept matters of ‘belief’ to an absolute minimum. It is significant that the formula of faith requires ‘belief’ only in Allah, Angels, Revelation, all the Prophets, and the fact that every individual will be held responsible for their actions on the Day of Judgement. These are the five fundamental articles of ‘belief’ in Islam (Q. II:285). In this respect the addition of , ‘Ali’yun Wali’ullah’, is clearly and manifestly an innovation being supra-numeric to Qur’an and the Tradition.
NEED FOR ‘BELIEF’ IN THE DIETY: It will constitute an insult to the intelligence of the readers if I were to dwell at length in order to justify the importance and the need to express ‘belief’ in Allah with all His attributes. The rationale is as simple as it is obvious.
NEED FOR ‘BELIEF’ IN THE PROPHETS: The relevance of inviting ‘belief’ in the person of a prophet is also manifestly clear. He is the vehicle of revelation, and as such, ‘belief’ in, the prophet’s claim of appointment by Divine intervention, his infallibility, his freedom from sin (cf. Bible), total submission to his message as the Will of God (without any dispute or reservation), are of paramount importance and complementary to other articles of faith.
Denial of a prophet automatically puts a person beyond the pale of faith, and rejection of a messenger, therefore, is denial of God. Hence, it is (as it ought to be) a matter of untold relief, that Muhammad (saw) was the LAST ‘Haadee’, and this, mercifully, means that the Muslim Ummah is absolved from the ‘burden’ of ‘rejection’, and so forever protected from denying God. A natural corollary is that Qur’an will remain uncorrupted (unlike other scriptures), as Allah has guaranteed its pristine purity … till the end of time. This represents a supreme favour from Allah and another aspect of Muhammad (saw)being referred to as a ‘mercy to the world’. In pursuance of this fine point, I will make reference to the concluding two verses of surat Al’Baqarah and ask the reader to dwell a moment on the deeper meaning of ‘…Our Lord! Lay not on us such a burden as Thou didst lay on those before us! Our Lord do not impose upon us that which we have not the strength to bear’. This, in my humble opinion, is a veiled reference to the completion of Allah’s favour to mankind mentioned elsewhere (Q. V: 3). Allah has made Muhammad (saw)the last human in whom one has to express formal ‘belief’ in order to attain salvation. By this merciful act, Allah has released us from the ‘burden’ of continually agitating and looking over our shoulder in expectation of another prophet, a phenomenon that was an onerous ‘burden’ in past ages. Released from this ‘burden’, and coupled with the assurance of the preservation of Qur’an, the Ummah can now, thankfully, divert all its energies in realising the ‘Kingdom of God’ and in … ‘… doing the Will of God on Earth’ for ever more. Muslims are now in a very favoured and elevated position, compared with past nations. The whole Ummah, subsequent to the advent of Prophet Muhammad (saw) and by the ‘completion’ of revelation and preservation of the Qur’an, has now been installed as the ‘Vicegerent of Allah’. For, ‘His Kingdom’ has now arrived, and ‘His Will is now done on Earth as it was being done in Heaven’, prior to the completion of religion.
NEED FOR ‘BELIEF’ IN THE REVEALED SCRIPTURE: Revealed word of God is the only record which survives the person of the prophet and after his demise, the only testimony of Allah’s Will (if preserved). Expression of ‘belief’ in the revealed scripture is a natural progression of ‘Eimaan’ (belief) in the Deity and the prophets. This is a general proposition, but Qur’an is unique in that, as stated above, Allah has mercifully guaranteed its preservation. This was a logical consequence of the end of the cycle of al’Anbiya (the prophets). Therefore, with the advent of the last Messenger (A), preservation of Qur’an, and establishment of a unified Quibla, as a permanent ‘Guiding Light’, the function of the prophets has now devolved upon the shoulders of this Ummah (the middle nation) in the form of Dawah (propagation), Ijtihad (innovative adaptation), Qiyas (deduction) & Ijma (Consensus). (Q. II:143)
A REVOLUTIONARY MESSAGE DELIVERED 15 CENTURIES AGO: ‘Lo! The noblest of you, in the sight of Allah, is the best in conduct’ (Q. XLIX:13).
In pre-Islamic age, during days of Jahili’yeh, the twin institutions of Divine Right of the Monarch (determined by lineage) and the Office of the Priest (determined by caste) were the twin most pernicious means of ‘Social Control’ and exploitation. Islam unmasked the corruption and iniquity of these institutions, demolished them at a stroke … and raised the standard of a fraternal and a just social order based upon the supremacy of law and dignity of all humans. From hence on, the status of a person was determined neither by ostensible wealth, nor by rank of birth or class, rather by the quality of one’s actions and deeds in real life. Most important dynamic being the concept of accountability of each individual for their actions, on the Day of Judgement without any possibility of ‘ransom’ or ‘intercession’. It was stated clearly and unequivocally that all human beings have equal status, by virtue of being the children of Adam (A), and in order to lay humble any feeling of arrogance, it is clearly stated that Adam was created from dust. With the demolition of ‘Priesthood’, all barriers between the Creator and His creation are thus removed.
I will conclude this section by underscoring the point that area of ‘belief’, mercifully, has been restricted to a bare minimum, and both, the relevance and the importance of ‘good deeds’ has been duly emphasised. It is made abundantly clear, that in contrast with many other religions, Islam is a very simple and a very practical religion … and because deeds speak louder than words, Islam has always highlighted the need to ‘perform’ rather than merely ‘profess’. To me it seems self evident that more we expand the area of ‘belief’, greater will be the scope for fracturing the unity of the Ummah, dividing loyalties, thereby increasing the prospect of falling from grace. After Muhammad (saw), we are not required to formally express our ‘belief’ in any other person. This, in actual fact, depicts Allah’s great wisdom and infinite mercy upon this Ummah.
This concludes my primary submission. Hereafter, in the light of what has been submitted, I will raise a few dilemmas regarding Imamat as an institution, which Brother Tejani has mentioned.
My first dilemma.
What are the characteristics of a Nabi? A Nabi is appointed by Allah. A Nabi makes a declaration of his mission. It is essential to express verbal ‘belief’ in his office. A Nabi receives Divine revelation. By virtue of his mission, a prophet is infallible (ma’soom). Because he is considered infallible, his word is final and cannot be disputed. Muhammad (saw), in addition, had the unique status of being the last messenger, the Seal of the prophets, Khatam al’Nabi’yeen.
There have been many attempts by impostors, claiming to be prophets. They all claimed to be Divinely appointed, recipients of revelation, claimed infallibility, and invited ‘belief’. Down the centuries, Muslims of all Schools of Thought, including the Shias, collectively rejected each and every claimant without any hesitation. And, Muslims are manifestly justified in doing so.
If there is consensus regarding this fact, then to claim Imamat as a continuing phenomenon represents a contradiction which I personally find difficult to reconcile from purely a common sense perspective. Substituting another term like ‘Mujaddid’, ‘Zillee Nabi’, ‘Buroozi Rasool’, ‘Mazhar-e-Elahi’ or ‘Imam’ (as in Shia theology), these terms are a merely a matter of semantics and a play on words. If a person claims to possess the attributes of a ‘Rasool’ or a ‘Nabi’ (as used in the Qur’an), then no matter what term is used, it represents an attempt to circumvent the finality of Muhammad’s (saw) prophethood. Herein lies my first dilemma.
My second dilemma.
Br. Tejani points out the original deviation at the demise of the Messenger of Allah in not accepting the ‘Imamat’ of seyyedina Ali. He may well be correct. But seyyedina Ali is no longer present in person (neither are any of the Imams). In practical terms, how will it help me if I were to acknowledge their Imamat, and what practical difference will this retrospective change of ‘belief’ on my part make in me? How will this mere declaration enhance the quality of my Islam?
I am absolutely convinced that seyyedina Ali, without exception, reinforced the message which Muhammad (saw) brought, and followed his example faithfully. If that is the case, then what is the logic of expressing a formal allegiance to Ali, at this distant moment in time, why not simply follow the message of Muhammad (saw) and emulate his pious and illustrious example?
I can see some relevance of making a formal allegiance if a person was living in the time of seyyedina Ali, or if one was contemporary with his successors, to pledge allegiance to them in person in order to be guided in faith and practice. But to make a verbal declaration of ‘belief’, centuries retrospectively, in order, essentially, to comply with the teachings of the Prophet (A), seems somewhat superfluous and puzzling. It merely adds a ‘tier’ or a level of ‘belief’ without serving any practical purpose. Love and respect for ‘Ahl-e-bait’ is a separate issue altogether. Herein lies my second dilemma.
My third dilemma.
Qur’an clearly states that if there is any divergence or conflict of views leading to a dispute with ‘Ulil Amr’ (those in Authority) whether in the affairs of the Ummah, or in deciding a legal point, or in adopting a course of action, then the (without exception) the matter in dispute, should be referred to Allah (Qur’anic text) and the Prophet (Oral Tradition). From what has been stated above, there is no room for ‘dispute’ with the revealed authority (Allah & the Prophet). Hence, the very fact that there can be a dispute with contemporary, authority amplifies the point that no person, subsequent to the Prophet (A) can claim infallibility. Therefore, the Imam cannot be considered infallible because his interpretation or judgement is open to challenge. And, if the authority of the Imam is not ‘infallible’, the relevance of his office is in doubt, to say the least. It may be relevant to note that the status of an Imam, in Shia theology, is analogous to the Pope (when he speaks ex-cathedra) or a Priest (in other religions). But, by general consensus, there is no Papacy or priesthood in Islam. Herein lies my third dilemma.
My fourth dilemma.
That prophethood has come to an end is an undisputed ‘belief’ in Islam. If there was a need to continue guidance of the Ummah by the medium of continuing revelation (an undisputed authority), why did Allah bring the age of prophesy to an end in the first instance? The history of Bani Isra’eel (Children of Israel) is replete with the appearance of ‘minor’ prophets (prophets nevertheless) in the wake of Moses (A), the Lawgiver. In Islam, Jesus (A) is regarded as a Nabi (a prophet who does not bring a new dispensation), because he followed the Torah.
There is a well-known Tradition, which relates that the Messenger of Allah (A) observed that … ‘…The Ulema (scholars – in plural) of my Ummah will be like the (minor) prophets of Bani Isra’eel’. He is not reported to have used the word Imam or even Ahl al’Bait (household of the Prophet). Herein lies my fourth dilemma.
My fifth dilemma.
If the institution of Imamat, as understood in Shia theology, was to continue, then why did the last Imam go into ‘Ghaibat’ (Occultation). Who has been guiding the Ummah for the last millennium in his absence? The doctrine of Wilayat-e-Imam (representative of the Imam in absentia) is not a valid answer.
Even among the Shia Schools of Thought, there is no unanimity as to the identity of the Imams. Some sects believe in one set of Imams and some in another set. These schools do not even agree upon the number of Imams. Imamat does not seem to have solved the problem of guidance of the Ummah through the leadership of infallible Imams. Herein lies my fifth dilemma.
My final dilemma.
Far fetched ‘Esoteric’, torturous and exotic explanations from the Qu’an aside, the innovative belief in ‘Imamat’ seems to have solved no real purpose in preventing, repeated and extensive, ‘Schism’. It is a depressing fact that doctrinal rift between various Shia religions [mazahib] is greater and more fundamental than the non-Shia. In ‘Shiism’ there are as many [perhaps more] ‘sects’ than the Sunnis … Ithna Asharis … being only just one of these !! There even exists difference in the status and succession of ‘Imamat’. Many Shia doctrines consider Qur’an redundant in the presence of an Imam and ‘Imamat’ to be superior to ‘Risalat’ [even incarnation of Allah in person] … and a continuing phenomenon. If Imamat was meant to ensure preservation, pristine purity and unity of belief … it seems to have failed spectacularly? As for Shia ‘Fiqh’, even among the Ithna Ashari Ayatollahs, the divergence of opinion even in mundane matters is just as mind blowing.
How can one claim unity when there is such diversity? Truth is that once we peel off the ‘Sophisticated’ [from Sufism] conjectures and speculative interpretations of the Qur’an, very little remains that underpins the doctrine of Imamat, except what is commonly understood in the lexicology of Qur’an and plain Arabic.
I must reiterate that these are my personal views, observed entirely from my angle of vision, from the perspective of common sense. All I have endeavoured to achieve is to take a panoramic vista of the teachings and the spirit of Islam, and try to remain objective (in so far as possible) and consistent in forming an opinion. Since there is no compulsion in religion in Islam (Q. II: 256), rather full scope for freedom of conscience, I fully accord the right of adhering to one’s ‘belief’. In this regard I sincerely respect brother Tejani’s views and applaud his generously polite and judicious manner of diction in arguing his case.
Let me conclude by stating that, subsequent to the person of the Prophet (saw), I have special love and regard for seyyedina Ali. Had I been alive during the first decade after the Prophet’s demise, perhaps I may well have voted for seyyedina Ali [ra] as the ‘Fist among the Equals’. But that is neither here nor there. What followed is now history. Anyhow, I regard Caliphate as reflecting ‘collective’ leadership, as ordained in the chapter called ‘Consultation’… “And their affairs are conducted through consultation among themselves” (Q. XLII: 38). Thus, Qur’an does not employ the term ‘Imamat’ but ‘Shura’ i.e. consultation. Herein lies my final dilemma.
Conclusion.
It is my submission that irrespective of whoever was the ‘Khaleefa’, he did not impose a one-man rule. Seyyedina Ali was a prominent member of the ‘Shura’ (The Consultative Council) and remained involved in governance, at the highest level, for three decades. The Caliph was only the symbolic head of state. All the companions were very capable people and there was little to choose between them. No doubt each person was an expert in one field of endeavour or the other, and their combination represented a collective leadership of awesome ability and unmitigated integrity.
The recommendation of governance by ‘Shura’, having recourse to Ijtihad, Qiyas and Ijma, dispels all my doubts and confirms the superfluity of the institution of ‘Imamat’. These facts reinforce the view that with the advent of the last Messenger of Allah (A), humanity had received its final guidance and Allah had completed His favour by perfecting the ‘Deen’ and indicated, in no uncertain terms, Islam as the chosen path. The age of ‘miracles’ and spoon-feeding had come to a close, and truth had been differentiated from falsehood. By the revelation of Al Furquaan (i.e. the Qur’an) humanity had been transported from darkness into light. The whole human race had come of age. It now had to stand upon its own two feet and exercise the devolved right of ‘Freedom of Choice’ with virtual independence, together with all the rewards and consequences that flow from it. Each member of the race individually, and all human beings collectively (led by the Ummah) were to be held accountable for their deeds and actions on the ‘Day of Final Reckoning’, when we shall all be assembled before your God and mine.
This view, of the collective (rather than of one Imam) responsibility of the Ummah, is further strengthened by the verse, ‘Wali takun minkum ummatun yad’oona ilal khaiyr …’ (Q. III: 104).
In my view, the question of love, respect and consideration for the household of the Prophet, is a separate issue altogether. Those, whoever they may be, who violated their rights will be held answerable in the sight of Allah. We should leave this matter to His judgement. This is an equitable attitude. As for the virtuous station of seyyedina Ali, there can be no doubt that he was the ‘Gateway of Knowledge’ and, spiritually speaking, the most accomplished and towering personality of his time. But, this does not mean that he was the only person capable of leading the Ummah as the administrative (secular) head too. Spiritual leadership need not be synonymous, or coincidental, with temporal leadership. And, seyyedina Ali, as the most revered member of the inner cabinet and Consultative Council (al’Shura), was a leading light and part of the decision making mechanism at every step of the way. Seyyedina Omar rightly exclaimed, ‘We would have perished, had it not been for Ali’. Hence it is wrong to say that Ali had been marginalized in any way in shaping the affairs of the Ummah. That, he was not installed nominally as the Executive Head, is totally irrelevant. At the critical juncture of the demise of the Prophet (A), the Ummah went through a process of selection (or election), and the choice settled upon seyyedina Abu Bakr, by consensus (endorsed by seyyedina Ali himself), means that the matter of choice was satisfactorily resolved.
Another aspect of apostolic succession (although we are not discussing succession in this article, rather the institution of ‘Imamat’) is that if Ali were to be appointed as the succeeding first Khaleefa, the world would find it very easy, although quite unjustifiably, to accuse the Messenger of Allah (saw) of establishing dynastic rule and the democratic and egalitarian message of Islam would have been swamped by malicious propaganda. Hence the Prophet (saw), despite his preferences, if any (and we shall never know), rightly and sagaciously, left the choice open to the Ummah at large. The only mention of preference that the Prophet (A)is reported to have indicated was, ‘Al A’immatu min al’Koreish’ (The leaders shall be from amongst the tribe of Koreish’). This reinforces my view that after emphasising ‘conduct of affairs by consultation’, the Prophet (saw) did not intervene any further and the door was left wide open for the Ummah to exercise its prerogative of choosing the leader by suffrage.
In any event, majority view is that, the office of the Khaleefa (Caliph) is a political and not a religious issue and one, which is not tied up with ‘belief’ or Eimaan. Hence if a person were to denounce any of the ‘Khulafa-e-Rashidoon’ (merely a reverential term), they would not forfeit ‘belief’, deviant as this course of action may be. It merely represents a difference of opinion in the interpretation of history … not religion.
Hence, if we regard Imamat, as denoting collective spiritual leadership as separate from temporal office, there is no divergence between the Shia and the Sunni schools of thought. All the, so called, Shia Imams are also Sunni Imams. Without exception, all of them were revered beacons of integrity, spirituality and scholarship of their respective era. But, however exceptional in knowledge and pious in character, in Sunni view, they were, nevertheless, mortal beings.
My concluding plea.
After having made my views known (not as the last word), I implore all my Shia and Sunni brethren to respect each other’s point of view and cooperate against the common enemy. It is desirable, and indeed feasible for both, to achieve this unity in practice without ‘compromising’ the essence of their ‘belief’ system. We can sort out mutual differences when we can afford the luxury. At the moment we must stop the civil war and bury the hatchet in order to provide a united front against the ‘Yezeedi forces’. Seyyedina Ali [ra] and Seyyedina Hasan & Husain’s [ra] bright example is beckoning us to follow their lead, let us cry ‘Lab’baiyka La Shareeka Lak’a’ and make the leap.
With a slight amendment to the much quoted verse of a renowned medieval saint and scholar, I too subscribe to:-
‘Haqqa! Keh baqaa’ye La’ilaaha hast Husaiyn’ [Verily! Husain [ibn’Ali] immortalised the tradition of Islam]
…. Why? Because as another poet observed > ‘Qatl-e-Husaiyn asl meiyn marg-e-Yazid hai Islam zindah hota haeiy her Karbala key ba’ad’ [Martydom of Husain is infact the death of Yazid] [Islam is resurrected in the aftermath of each Karbala]
I will conclude by reciting a cherished supplication, please feel free to join me.
“O God! Forgive me my delinquency, mine ignorance, and my immoderation in my endeavours. O God! Forgive me for what I hasten and what I defer, for what I reveal and what I conceal, for my manifest error and my hidden design. O God! Set aright my faith, which is the safeguard of my Hereafter. Set aright my world wherein is my living. O God! In thy care I commend my soul, make me penitent and set aright my orientation, for unto Thee shall be my return. (Ameen)”.

“Got a live one tonight.”
Jim heard the panicked squeals even through the thick metal door. “Good,” he replied. “You know I like a little fight in ‘em. How long’s this one been here, Charlie?”
“About a week. Not in the best shape but you’ll have to make do.”
“How much?”
“For my best customer?” Charlie paused to consider his offer. “Let’s say an even thousand.”
Jim retrieved an envelope from his coat pocket and removed a wad of bills. He counted out ten of them, folded over the stack, and offered it to Charlie.
“Have a good time,” Charlie said, holding out a bucket into which Jim placed his phone – no recording was the only rule.
Charlie handed Jim a key and slipped on a pair of headphones. Like clockwork, Jim came on the first Tuesday of each month. Charlie knew that’s when Jim told his wife, Marlene, and daughter, Jessica, that he and the other church elders met for planning meetings.
As a matter of fact, Charlie knew a lot of things about Jim. In the business they were in, you had to know who you were dealing with. One mistake could mean life in prison.
An hour or so passed and the door opened. A slightly disheveled Jim exited the room. “Good one this month,” he said.
Charlie nodded and passed over the bucket.
Jim grabbed his phone and saw a missed call from Marlene. “I’ll be in touch,” he told Charlie, and went outside to his truck.
Once in the quiet of the cabin Jim phoned back his wife. “Hey babe, leaving now. Be there in twenty.”
“K, drive safe.”
Jim returned home and walked into the kitchen to find Marlene at the stove making dinner. “Hope you’re hungry tonight,” she said with a laugh. “I never know how much pasta to make.”
“Fine by me. You know leftover spaghetti’s my favorite.” He grabbed three plates from a cabinet and brought them to the table. “Jess, dinner!” he called.
Jessica descended from upstairs with eight loud thumps. “Hi, Dad. How was the church thing?”
“Meh, business as usual,” Jim replied as they all sat down at the table.
“Did you discuss a new sign?” asked Marlene. “The one out there now is barely visible from the street.”
“Yep.” Jim spooned some salad onto his plate. “Just need to appropriate the funds and find a good company to make it. We don’t want it falling and hurting anyone.”
“Not a bad idea for an insurance scam,” Jessica said. “I’d be able to buy a car in no time.”
Marlene shook her head and smiled. “Or you could be like a normal person and get a job.”
“I’m trying, Mom.”
“How’s the search going?” asked Jim.
“It’s OK,” replied Jessica. “Tried a few clothing stores at the mall. Just waiting to hear back.”
“Well, keep at it. You’ll find something soon,” Marlene said. “I know how badly you want the car.”
“Seriously. Why can’t we be rich? You just had to become a priest, huh Dad?”
“I wanted to be a rockstar,” said Jim. “But there was one tiny problem.”
“Yeah,” Jessica said. “You sound like a dying cat when you sing.”
“Bingo,” Marlene chimed in.
The three had a chuckle and the conversation drifted off. Dinner continued as normal, as did the coming days, and the weeks began fading into the uniformity of suburbia. A month passed when one night, they found themselves in the living room watching TV.
“Oh, I’ve got good news,” said Jessica.
“You’re moving out?” Marlene smiled wryly.
“You wish. But anyways, I have a job interview at the mall tomorrow. Can I take your truck, Dad?”
Jim shook his head. “Sorry, got the church meeting.”
“Ugh, that’s right. First Tuesday,” Jessica groaned. “Guess I’m getting the van.”
“What time do you need it?” asked Marlene.
“Four-thirty.”
Marlene nodded in confirmation.
“Well,” Jim said, standing up from the couch. “With that, I think I’ll hit the hay. I have an early morning marriage prep. Hopefully I’ll come home to an employed daughter.” He kissed the top of both girls’ heads. “Goodnight, love you.”
The next workday passed uneventfully and Jim made his monthly trek to Charlie’s. He parked down the street and fired off a text to Jessica.
Hope the interview went well. Can’t wait to hear about it later!
Jim exited the truck and made his way to Charlie’s door, signaling his presence with a special knock.
Charlie answered with an enthusiastic grin. “It’s your lucky day. Got a fresh one for you,” he said, ushering Jim inside. “Different from the usual ones we get – not filthy or drugged out.”
“How much?” asked Jim, reaching for the envelope of money in his coat pocket.
“Three grand.”
Jim raised an eyebrow.
“Buddy, this one’s special. Arrived about two hours ago – you get first crack.” Jim pursed his lips and took a deep breath. “OK, but for that price I’ve got a request.”
“What’s that?”
“Turn the lights off. I want a little more of a challenge this time.”
Charlie shrugged. “Sure, if you want.”
Jim handed over a wad of bills and Charlie extended a bucket. Jim silenced his phone and deposited it into the container.
“Lights off,” Charlie said, flipping a switch to the left of the doorway.
Jim slipped into the room. Almost immediately the thuds and grunts of a struggle emanated from behind the door. Charlie put on his headphones and sat down to wait.
Thirty minutes went by. Then, an hour. Jim didn’t usually take this long.
Seventy-five minutes passed. Ninety. Charlie’s heartbeat began to quicken. Any deviation from the norm made him nervous.
Right when Charlie had worked up the courage to investigate, Jim emerged from the room, tidying himself.
“Worth every penny,” Jim said, zipping his fly. He reached into the bucket for his phone. “Keep the girls coming like that and I’ll make you a very rich man.”
Charlie nodded his acknowledgment and Jim left.
Once outside, Jim glanced at his phone to find twenty-four missed calls from Marlene. He hurried to the truck and dialed back.
The phone barely had a chance to ring before a panicked Marlene answered. “Jim, where the fuck are you? The store called looking for Jessica – she didn’t make it to her interview and I — I can’t get a hold of her either.”
Jim’s heart leapt into his throat. Jessica wouldn’t have missed the interview on purpose.
“It’ll be OK,” he replied. “I’ll be right there.” He hung up and went to slam on the gas, but a stomach wrenching thought stopped him cold. He flung open the center console, grabbed his pistol, and dashed back down the street.
Startled by the sudden banging at his door, Charlie looked out the peephole to see Jim furiously pounding. He cracked open the door and Jim muscled his way inside, holding the gun to Charlie’s head,
“Whoa, what the fuck?!” Charlie raised his arms.
“Where’d you get the one today?” asked Jim.
“You know I can’t give you details.”
Jim retightened his grip on the gun. “Answer the question or I’ll blow your fucking head off.”
“Ok, ok. She was picked up over by the mall. What the hell is—”
A shot pierced the air and Charlie slumped backward onto the ground.
Jim’s heart thundered in his chest as he stepped over the body and approached the heavy metal door. He grasped the cold handle, pausing to drop his head in prayer before easing it open and looking inside.
Curled up in the far corner was Jessica, clothes shredded and hair tangled. She recoiled at first, but upon seeing it was Jim, scrambled to embrace her father.
A horrified Jim stood frozen as his daughter hugged him with all her might. In the light he could see cuts and scrapes covering her body. He wriggled from her embrace, doubled over and retched.
“Dad?”
Jim looked up at Jessica and began to weep. “Oh, fuck,” he whimpered, standing up and putting his hands on his head. “You…no…I…” He paced back and forth in distress.
“I’m sorry,” he blubbered, standing up and hugging Jessica. “So, so sorry.” He kissed the top of her head and pressed her face further into his body, shielding her from seeing him raise the gun.
“It’s gonna be OK,” he said, voice trembling. “I love you, Jess.”
He closed his eyes and pulled the trigger, cringing at the sound of the shot.
Jessica went limp in his arms. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he tenderly lowered her to the ground, eyes still clamped shut to avoid the horror.
His mind raced as he staggered back to his truck. He considered running, but Marlene would be shattered when the truth came to light. Surely she would die of a broken heart. He owed her more than that.
If only he could take back what he had done. Paralyzed by grief, Jim did the only thing he knew how; he prayed. Through the tears he clasped his hands together and looked skyward, asking the Lord to guide him once more. More than anything he wanted his family to be together again. He realized they would never share another meal or go camping at their favorite spot by the lake. No birthday or anniversary could ever be the same – at least in this life.
And then… an answer popped into his head.
He sped home to Marlene and found his wife at the table, face down, sobbing in her arms. She raised her head and their tear-stained eyes met for a split second before Marlene glanced down to his crimson stained clothes.
“Jim, is that–”
Without a word he whipped the gun from behind his back and discharged a single slug into her forehead. Marlene toppled off the chair and onto the floor, dead from the shot.
Jim rushed to her side and laid down on his back next to her, taking her lifeless hand in his. “Lord Jesus,” he said. “Forgive me for my sins. By dying you unlocked the gates of life for those who believe in you: do not let me be parted from you, but by your glorious power let me and my family reunite in the heavenly Kingdom of God where you live and reign for all eternity. Amen.”
And with that final prayer, Jim inserted the gun into his mouth and squeezed the trigger.

“Got a live one tonight.”
Jim heard the panicked squeals even through the thick metal door. “Good,” he replied. “You know I like a little fight in ‘em. How long’s this one been here, Charlie?”
“About a week. Not in the best shape but you’ll have to make do.”
“How much?”
“For my best customer?” Charlie paused to consider his offer. “Let’s say an even thousand.”
Jim retrieved an envelope from his coat pocket and removed a wad of bills. He counted out ten of them, folded over the stack, and offered it to Charlie.
“Have a good time,” Charlie said, holding out a bucket into which Jim placed his phone – no recording was the only rule.
Charlie handed Jim a key and slipped on a pair of headphones. Like clockwork, Jim came on the first Tuesday of each month. Charlie knew that’s when Jim told his wife, Marlene, and daughter, Jessica, that he and the other church elders met for planning meetings.
As a matter of fact, Charlie knew a lot of things about Jim. In the business they were in, you had to know who you were dealing with. One mistake could mean life in prison.
An hour or so passed and the door opened. A slightly disheveled Jim exited the room. “Good one this month,” he said.
Charlie nodded and passed over the bucket.
Jim grabbed his phone and saw a missed call from Marlene. “I’ll be in touch,” he told Charlie, and went outside to his truck.
Once in the quiet of the cabin Jim phoned back his wife. “Hey babe, leaving now. Be there in twenty.”
“K, drive safe.”
Jim returned home and walked into the kitchen to find Marlene at the stove making dinner. “Hope you’re hungry tonight,” she said with a laugh. “I never know how much pasta to make.”
“Fine by me. You know leftover spaghetti’s my favorite.” He grabbed three plates from a cabinet and brought them to the table. “Jess, dinner!” he called.
Jessica descended from upstairs with eight loud thumps. “Hi, Dad. How was the church thing?”
“Meh, business as usual,” Jim replied as they all sat down at the table.
“Did you discuss a new sign?” asked Marlene. “The one out there now is barely visible from the street.”
“Yep.” Jim spooned some salad onto his plate. “Just need to appropriate the funds and find a good company to make it. We don’t want it falling and hurting anyone.”
“Not a bad idea for an insurance scam,” Jessica said. “I’d be able to buy a car in no time.”
Marlene shook her head and smiled. “Or you could be like a normal person and get a job.”
“I’m trying, Mom.”
“How’s the search going?” asked Jim.
“It’s OK,” replied Jessica. “Tried a few clothing stores at the mall. Just waiting to hear back.”
“Well, keep at it. You’ll find something soon,” Marlene said. “I know how badly you want the car.”
“Seriously. Why can’t we be rich? You just had to become a priest, huh Dad?”
“I wanted to be a rockstar,” said Jim. “But there was one tiny problem.”
“Yeah,” Jessica said. “You sound like a dying cat when you sing.”
“Bingo,” Marlene chimed in.
The three had a chuckle and the conversation drifted off. Dinner continued as normal, as did the coming days, and the weeks began fading into the uniformity of suburbia. A month passed when one night, they found themselves in the living room watching TV.
“Oh, I’ve got good news,” said Jessica.
“You’re moving out?” Marlene smiled wryly.
“You wish. But anyways, I have a job interview at the mall tomorrow. Can I take your truck, Dad?”
Jim shook his head. “Sorry, got the church meeting.”
“Ugh, that’s right. First Tuesday,” Jessica groaned. “Guess I’m getting the van.”
“What time do you need it?” asked Marlene.
“Four-thirty.”
Marlene nodded in confirmation.
“Well,” Jim said, standing up from the couch. “With that, I think I’ll hit the hay. I have an early morning marriage prep. Hopefully I’ll come home to an employed daughter.” He kissed the top of both girls’ heads. “Goodnight, love you.”
The next workday passed uneventfully and Jim made his monthly trek to Charlie’s. He parked down the street and fired off a text to Jessica.
Hope the interview went well. Can’t wait to hear about it later!
Jim exited the truck and made his way to Charlie’s door, signaling his presence with a special knock.
Charlie answered with an enthusiastic grin. “It’s your lucky day. Got a fresh one for you,” he said, ushering Jim inside. “Different from the usual ones we get – not filthy or drugged out.”
“How much?” asked Jim, reaching for the envelope of money in his coat pocket.
“Three grand.”
Jim raised an eyebrow.
“Buddy, this one’s special. Arrived about two hours ago – you get first crack.” Jim pursed his lips and took a deep breath. “OK, but for that price I’ve got a request.”
“What’s that?”
“Turn the lights off. I want a little more of a challenge this time.”
Charlie shrugged. “Sure, if you want.”
Jim handed over a wad of bills and Charlie extended a bucket. Jim silenced his phone and deposited it into the container.
“Lights off,” Charlie said, flipping a switch to the left of the doorway.
Jim slipped into the room. Almost immediately the thuds and grunts of a struggle emanated from behind the door. Charlie put on his headphones and sat down to wait.
Thirty minutes went by. Then, an hour. Jim didn’t usually take this long.
Seventy-five minutes passed. Ninety. Charlie’s heartbeat began to quicken. Any deviation from the norm made him nervous.
Right when Charlie had worked up the courage to investigate, Jim emerged from the room, tidying himself.
“Worth every penny,” Jim said, zipping his fly. He reached into the bucket for his phone. “Keep the girls coming like that and I’ll make you a very rich man.”
Charlie nodded his acknowledgment and Jim left.
Once outside, Jim glanced at his phone to find twenty-four missed calls from Marlene. He hurried to the truck and dialed back.
The phone barely had a chance to ring before a panicked Marlene answered. “Jim, where the fuck are you? The store called looking for Jessica – she didn’t make it to her interview and I — I can’t get a hold of her either.”
Jim’s heart leapt into his throat. Jessica wouldn’t have missed the interview on purpose.
“It’ll be OK,” he replied. “I’ll be right there.” He hung up and went to slam on the gas, but a stomach wrenching thought stopped him cold. He flung open the center console, grabbed his pistol, and dashed back down the street.
Startled by the sudden banging at his door, Charlie looked out the peephole to see Jim furiously pounding. He cracked open the door and Jim muscled his way inside, holding the gun to Charlie’s head,
“Whoa, what the fuck?!” Charlie raised his arms.
“Where’d you get the one today?” asked Jim.
“You know I can’t give you details.”
Jim retightened his grip on the gun. “Answer the question or I’ll blow your fucking head off.”
“Ok, ok. She was picked up over by the mall. What the hell is—”
A shot pierced the air and Charlie slumped backward onto the ground.
Jim’s heart thundered in his chest as he stepped over the body and approached the heavy metal door. He grasped the cold handle, pausing to drop his head in prayer before easing it open and looking inside.
Curled up in the far corner was Jessica, clothes shredded and hair tangled. She recoiled at first, but upon seeing it was Jim, scrambled to embrace her father.
A horrified Jim stood frozen as his daughter hugged him with all her might. In the light he could see cuts and scrapes covering her body. He wriggled from her embrace, doubled over and retched.
“Dad?”
Jim looked up at Jessica and began to weep. “Oh, fuck,” he whimpered, standing up and putting his hands on his head. “You…no…I…” He paced back and forth in distress.
“I’m sorry,” he blubbered, standing up and hugging Jessica. “So, so sorry.” He kissed the top of her head and pressed her face further into his body, shielding her from seeing him raise the gun.
“It’s gonna be OK,” he said, voice trembling. “I love you, Jess.”
He closed his eyes and pulled the trigger, cringing at the sound of the shot.
Jessica went limp in his arms. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he tenderly lowered her to the ground, eyes still clamped shut to avoid the horror.
His mind raced as he staggered back to his truck. He considered running, but Marlene would be shattered when the truth came to light. Surely she would die of a broken heart. He owed her more than that.
If only he could take back what he had done. Paralyzed by grief, Jim did the only thing he knew how; he prayed. Through the tears he clasped his hands together and looked skyward, asking the Lord to guide him once more. More than anything he wanted his family to be together again. He realized they would never share another meal or go camping at their favorite spot by the lake. No birthday or anniversary could ever be the same – at least in this life.
And then… an answer popped into his head.
He sped home to Marlene and found his wife at the table, face down, sobbing in her arms. She raised her head and their tear-stained eyes met for a split second before Marlene glanced down to his crimson stained clothes.
“Jim, is that–”
Without a word he whipped the gun from behind his back and discharged a single slug into her forehead. Marlene toppled off the chair and onto the floor, dead from the shot.
Jim rushed to her side and laid down on his back next to her, taking her lifeless hand in his. “Lord Jesus,” he said. “Forgive me for my sins. By dying you unlocked the gates of life for those who believe in you: do not let me be parted from you, but by your glorious power let me and my family reunite in the heavenly Kingdom of God where you live and reign for all eternity. Amen.”
And with that final prayer, Jim inserted the gun into his mouth and squeezed the trigger.

Please check out my Content Generation Bot

What My Project Does

The Content Generation Bot is an automated system that creates engaging audio-visual content clips on AI/ML topics. It uses OpenAI's GPT API to generate topics and scripts, Azure TTS to convert the scripts into audio, and OpenAI DALL-E API to fetch relevant images. The bot compiles these elements into a one-minute-long video with subtitles, organized into a structured output folder for easy access and posting.

Target Audience

This project is designed for content creators, educators, and AI/ML enthusiasts who want to automate the creation of educational and engaging video content. It can be used for production purposes, such as generating daily content for social media platforms like Instagram, or as a tool for educational purposes to create informative videos on AI/ML topics.

Comparison

Unlike other content generation tools, the Content Generation Bot uniquely combines text generation, text-to-speech conversion, and image generation to produce comprehensive video clips. Existing alternatives often require manual input for each step, whereas this bot automates the entire process from topic generation to video creation, making it a seamless and efficient solution for generating educational content.
https://github.com/prashanth-up/Content_Bot
Thank you!!

Thought I'd share some things I've learned after 10+ years on the platform. I started out as a YouTuber and now own a company with a range of channels. I'll spare you the details unless asked, but here's the key takeaways from my time on YouTube:
CTR and AVD still reign supreme
Back in the days of clickbait -- I mean the real clickbait -- CTR used to be the most important metric. The question everyone asked was "How do I get people to watch my video?" Provocative thumbnails, outlandish lies... for many it was whatever it took. Once AVD became a defining metric, the game had really changed. Higher quality videos were brought to the frontpage and much of cringe was left to die in the dark.
CTR still is a defining metric. The best CTR comes from combining thumbnails and titles to pose a question, or peak someone's interest, or generally appeal to a topic that casts a wide enough net. The difference is that now you need a value proposition that actually pays off. So many early creators failed to understand this and went down with the sinking ship. It's never been truer that today the platform bolsters quality over quantity. I hear people complaining all the time that garbage content gets all the views, and while that may still be true in some instances, the content being pushed is, at least today, the content being watched.
Not only this, but CTR and AVD are symbiotic. A low CTR can yield a high AVD for more niche topics. On the flip side, a high CTR can yield a low AVD because the bar is higher. More people watching means you'll run into some higher expectations. AVD and AVP have undoubtedly improved and continues to improve the quality threshold year after year.
Subscribers don't matter.
Subtitle may be bait to some degree. I'm saying one thing that will likely incite a response, but I'm going provide a caveat here. Subscribers don't matter in the sense of views and revenue. Subscribers may matter to you personally, say as a milestone, but subscribers equating to any form of viewership or revenue is a thing of the past.
The vast majority of viewers, especially on larger channels, are from YouTube's recommendations, homepage and up next. YouTube knows your audience better than you do. They feed your videos to the people who are watching that type of video today. Not the person who watched it last week, or last year, but to the relevant viewer of this very minute.
Your subscribers may support you, but when they click on YouTube at the end of the day, unless they're watching X minutes of your videos or videos like them, YouTube isn't showing them your channel.
Making art and making click-worthy content are not mutually exclusive.
I've seen a lot of posts on this subreddit where the discussion is raised regarding whether to go the clickbait route or keep your artistic freedoms.
You don't have to pick and choose. You can certainly decide to be a starving artist, and not cater your content to viewers in the slightest. Just don't be surprised when you don't have any growth. On the contrary, you can do whatever yields the highest views and make some terribly cringy thumbnails and videos that just pass the bar. I'm sure you'll make some money. You'll probably hate yourself too.
In my experience, the best route -- whether we're talking about having a fulfilling career or even highest revenue -- is a combination of both. The best YouTuber combines the left and right sides of the brain. Be analytical, follow the data, but also create a video that's next level. Low AVD's are hardly ever due to an individual being overly artistic. They usually come from the fact that it's a bad video.
The best way to get ahead will always be making the best video
Piggybacking off that last comment, the best way to beat the algorithm is by being the absolute best. I know, what a useless piece of advice. It's the truth, though. Creating high quality content is the best way to win right now. The days of the daily upload are over. We've seen that if you spend a month making a 30 minute video that's as close to flawless as possible, you'll walk away with more money than uploading three pieces of hot garbage a day. You just have to be sure your concept is one that the people want to see.
Work backwards.
You come up with your title and thumbnail first -- perhaps a concept that's tried and true. What's trending right now in your niche? What are the highest viewed videos this month? How can I make something unique, no, even better? Once you have your concept, script out your video and make it the best thing since sliced bread. I am yet to see a creator who benefited from doing this process the other way around. Create in the order you view. Click first, watch after.
If it isn't working...it might be you.
Another bit of tough love. I'm sorry guys, but if a channel hasn't taken off, there's no point in feeling sorry for yourself. Either people don't want to see what you're making, it's a subject YouTube has some sort of restrictions on, or you haven't refined your content to the point of getting ahead. Certain types of content (like gameplay commentary) are so difficult to break into because they're oversaturated. There's such a huge influx of people doing it, your content needs to be top tier to even have a shot at breaking through.
Pivot. Pivot. Pivot.
Back in 2014/2015, I ran two Minecraft channels and a general gaming channel. It was around 2015/2016 that YouTube implemented some changes that nearly destroyed my company. My general gaming channel was suddenly hit with this new thing you may have heard of: "demonetization". Instantly regretted swearing in the videos. Right around this time, Minecraft was also going out of style, or dying as we all said. Later we learned you can't kill a cube, but alas it was a rough bout for me and the team. This was a very important experience for us, because it was when we learned that you either pivot or call it a day. We launched some Fortnite channels and had more success than we'd ever hoped to have prior. When your niche, your trend, your...thing... is going out, don't go out with it. Start working on the next channel, the next venture. Which brings me to this next bit...
Don't push to channels
For years and years we would push to new channels, reformat old channels (meaning wipe them clean and act like they never existed) and proceed to make completely new brands with entirely new content on them. This was because it was such a nightmare getting a new channel monetized. It was mostly due to working with MCN's. But now that everyone has equal access to the Partner Program, which really doesn't take too long to get approved for, you can get a new channel monetized fairly quickly. There's no point in pushing people to a new channel or wipe a channel clean. Just start a new one.
Even channels that were basically exact replicas of one another -- we have two channels that do basically the same style of video. We pushed viewers with the community tab and it only hurt the CTR and AVD. It's because like I said earlier, YouTube knows who to show the videos to better than we do. Let the algorithm do the work for you. It'll find you the right viewers, if the viewers are out there.
We've done both methods successfully, but have found time and time again that letting the algorithm choose the audience has always resulted in our strongest performing channels.
You are a flash in the pan.
This can be a tough pill to swallow, but even if you are a "famous" YouTuber, you're a flash in the pan. There might be some names that have stood to the test of time -- Markiplier and Jacksepticeye and Pewds. MrBeast will certainly be one name that doesn't fade any time soon. But majority of Tubers have a brief glimpse of fame.
It can be as bad as winning the lottery. You blow up overnight, start making loads of money, think you're the greatest thing on Gods green Earth, and then the trend you had hopped on dies and your channel dies right along with it. In the years I've been on this platform, I can count on a single hand the people who still make their money off of creating YouTube videos. Several have gone to work for YouTube companies, gone into consulting or other media, but even more have moved on to get normal 9-5 day jobs.
This is why you have to stay humble, and look at it for what it is -- a job. Your fans love you, sure. But that love only goes so far because they won't watch just anything you make. It can be a hobby too, sure. But there's different expectations of results. When you treat YouTube as a job, you have to pivot, you have to be analytical and you have to be objective. We all think we have the best videos, but that doesn't matter. What matters is whether everyone else thinks the same.
Play the game, but let others play it too.
This may be a bit anecdotal, but I've experienced this a lot in the past. We have an animation channel that gets thumbnails, titles, entire concepts ripped off all of the time. That's fine. Because we've done the same plenty of times. Is it annoying when they don't even try to give a little twist on it? Yeah. But it doesn't matter, because seeing the same video twice doesn't inspire people to click. So someone rips off a title and thumbnail from a 20 million view video to the T! Guess what? People think they already saw it and don't click. It's a terrible CTR. Please just don't be one of those guys who cries about others "stealing" your ideas when you've been doing the same thing all along.
It's all uphill from here.
It's the truth. YouTube is in a really stable place and I think it's a great time to get in and get started. With that said, the competition has never been so fierce. You have people raising the bar every day and now the biggest videos are insanely high quality and some have crazy long run times. A TV quality video at 60 minutes is hard to beat for a spot on the homepage.
Many creators have turned their channel into a business, so something that was once mostly individuals with webcams has become companies with entire teams behind a single video. The good news is you need only one video to wedge your way in. Take your time and make something remarkable that people won't forget. Take that momentum and keep on going. It's like running a marathon. There's several walls you need to break through, but once you're through them...you can do it again and again.
Anyway, that's all I've got at this moment. If anyone wants to talk YouTube, leave a reply and I'm always up to have a discussion!

Misali's definition

This is inspired by Jan Misali's video "How many Super Mario games are there now?", where he takes a few minutes to argue that "I am a teacher: Super Mario Sweater" is a videogame (which I didn't agree with, but this isn't meant to be some sort of debunking). Defining videogames is not normally an important topic, but it's kinda interesting.
Misali's definition of videogames was "interactive software with a visual display for the purpose of entertainment". This definition instantly doesn't work for me.
"For the purpose of entertainment" is no good. You can make a game with the purpose of frustrating players and it'll still be a game. The creator of Excel may have made it with the intention for it to be fun, but it's not a game.
Computer games also don't need visuals. The Vale only uses sound, text adventure games use text that could be delivered in ways other than a display.

My definition: it's a game

So, at the most basic level, videogames are games in the form of software. But what does it mean for something to be a game? In english the term "game" is colloquially used for things like activities you do with children, social situations or life itself, so try to detach your thinking from that.
A game of any kind needs a set of rules that describe what players can do, what their actions result in, and the win\loss conditions. It's what separates the activity of skating from playing a game of SKATE - you can't break the rules of skating or win at it, but there are rules to SKATE (you get a letter if you can't repeat the other person's trick, if you do land it then the roles switch), and there's a loss condition (getting all 5 letters of SKATE). There are also activities that have rules but aren't games (driving on public roads) because they have no win or loss condition defined in the ruleset.
A relationship between the players' actions and the win\loss condition is required - "if you were born in January, you lose" doesn't feel like a game because the "players" have no agency over the time they were born.
The win\loss conditions definitely need to be specific, otherwise art becomes a game if "express yourself" is given as a goal, and that would make the term "game" useless. Oh, and a game can have both (all PvP games), only the win condition (puzzle games), or only the loss condition (score attack games).
That sort of wraps up the "game" part of the definition, but there are a couple of gaps:

• How much influence over the result does the player need? Is a lottery a game? Is a game where you can take actions but none of them affect the outcome really a game?
• How much action does a game need to require to achieve a win state or avoid a loss state? "Press here to win a prize" doesn't feel like a game, but where's the cutoff?

...in the form of software

Imagine a game called "beat Godrick first" that you can play with your friends. It's played by booting up Elden Ring with a specific save file and beating Godrick before the other players do, at which point you win. The funny thing: this isn't a videogame. You play a videogame to play "beat Godrick first", but "beat Godrick first" itself is a ruleset defined outside of the software, and the win condition isn't detected by the software.
So for a game to be a videogame, both the gameplay and the results need to happen and be tracked in software. This rule generally excludes board games with companion apps, which makes sense to me.

Final definition

And with that, I guess my final definition of a videogame would be: "software players need to interact with in order to achieve a win state and\or avoid a loss state implemented in it".
Can you find any issues with this?
Link to Jan's video: https://youtu.be/-Ddmjcy3lEs?t=3118