#RAID configuration

[virtualizationhowto]

TrueNAS SCALE Server Build for Home Lab

TrueNAS SCALE Server Build for Home Lab #homelab #virtualization #TrueNASSCALEHomeServer #HomeServerSetup #DebianLinuxServer #RAIDConfiguration #FileSharingServer #MediaStreamingServer #HomeAutomationHub #NetworkSecurity #ServerHardwareUpgrades #selfhost

There are so many options for running a home server for storage and virtualization needs on a home network. I have run VMware ESXi and Proxmox servers for my virtualization needs for the past few years now. However, until recently, I only ran TrueNAS inside a virtual machine for testing and a few light-duty applications. A project I wanted to tackle was repurposing one of my SuperMicro mini…

[windupaidoneus]

this was so scary

[newkiqx]

I just found some pictures I thought I lost (hard drive failure mid 2021). So god damn happy now 😄

While i'm on the subject / for those who need to hear this rn:

Make backups. Yes, especially you.

Even a year and a half later, i want to time travel back and hit myself in the face for being such an idiot and procrastinating

[mxchineherald]

[starter for @runes-menagerie.]

 He’d made a promise to her that he would take her with him, and he’d already broken it. She had a bad feeling about the meeting, but so did he. “I’m so sorry,” he said to her as he put her back onto the configuration table, “I cannot risk you being taken by them. I will be back! I won’t let anyone hurt you.” he activated the table, locking her in place to it so that she couldn’t follow him.

 And then he left her behind.

 Jayce had told him about the raid on Silco’s shimmer plant on the way to the meeting. He heard about the lives lost, including that of a child. His disgust was only measured by his iron will and patience, otherwise he would have beaten the walls with his crutch in his anger. A child. A child! There was no way to preserve peace, at this point, without giving in to Silco’s demands. He feared for his people – their future – under the rule of such a vindictively blind man, but this was their only choice. Jayce had made it so.

 And they were successful. After hours of debate and argument, the Council gave in, voting unanimously to grant Zaun its independence. There was something powerful about being in the room where it happened, but he wasn’t sure he would want to tell the tale.

 Then, there was a loud crack. He felt a shove against this augmented limbs, forcing him out of his chair and away from a bright gold dome that formed over Mel Medarda and Jayce. The BOOM left his ears ringing, but he could still hear Cassandra Kiramman’s shout of pain as he went flying. He slammed against a chunk of the now shattered round table. Two ribs snapped under the pressure, and something ripped open in his gut. His back came into hard contact with a stone column. Something plucked in his upper spine, sending a burning twinge up to his neck. He fell amongst the rubble, unable to get up while dust, ash, and bits of heated ember landed over him. The golden dome still persisted, but within it, he could spot the silhouette of Mel and Jayce, locked in a ducked down embrace. His augmented hand outstretched for Jayce before he lost the last of his strength, falling limp against the stone and wood. Vision faded, and soon with it went his hearing.

 Life came to him in brief flashes. Something jostling him from his uncomfortable position on the ground. Hands against his chest and neck. “Vi..tor? Viktor… Ope..y..eyes! Please!” Jayce. He was trying to wake him. Pointless. He could feel it. He was dying. There was a burning, torn feeling in his insides. He could feel his blood leaking into his abdominal cavity like a trickling river. Dread seeped into his core. Sky. She was in the lab, helpless. Without him there to explain, what would happen to her? The sound of tearing cloth caught his ears past the ringing, and he felt fresh air against his skin. He was so cold. Was he even on the ground anymore? No, he was moving. He was being carried, quickly.

 Jayce burst into the lab by kicking the doors open. Rushing up to the exam table, he set Viktor’s limp body down, being extra careful with his head. “Come on, Viktor… Stay with me…” He leaned down, gently stroking some hair out of his lab partner’s face. He felt so chilled to the touch, like there was barely any life left in him.

 Then, he rushed to the table, where Viktor’s notes were still spread across. Details on the Hexcore, its evolution, its transfiguration of his limbs. Seeing a journal set on top of them, he opened it up, flipping to the most recent pages, trying to find something – anything – that could help him understand what had happened to his partner.

 He was running out of time, and he couldn’t risk bringing Viktor to a hospital, not in his current state. They still had an Ethos, and he knew Piltover would be quick to use it against any Zaunite they could, now. If only Sky was here to help him. She was always quicker at reading Viktor's handwriting.

 He hadn’t yet noticed the Hexcore on the configuration table, but he was close enough to hear it.

[allwormdiet]

Sentinel 9.4

Back in the saddle again

You know, I'm not sure if tinkers actually are "supposed" to be smart. The other examples we have to work off of besides Kid Win are Bakuda (constant state of fucking around and finding out until it killed her), Armsmaster (he of the dumbfuck raid boss solo plot), and Dragon (actually no notes on Dragon's relative intelligence), plus Chariot in just a minute here who literally only succeeds at being a mole because the Protectorate allows him to succeed as a ploy

I'll concede that they're adept engineers and scientists, sure, but you can know how to build a nuclear reactor and still be dumb enough to build it in your backyard. There's no single measure of intelligence that everyone measures high on, that's just not how it goes.

Then again like two-thirds of this chapter are lowkey about Kid having self-esteem issues so like, I get that he's being hard on himself. I feel like half the cape POVs we've gotten so far have self-esteem issues, never mind Taylor Hebert Queen of Self-Image Problems

I'm gonna skim over a lot of this fight like I had in 9.3, but while this can't feel good for one's confidence, honestly I'd mostly just be relieved. Like, yes, let the villains whose powers are Railgun and The Fucking Sun take it easy on me, that's fine, I like my body parts staying in the configuration they have.

Thank God he actually has a chance to feel like he's contributing, without the horror of accidentally killing someone

Wow, Trickster sucks. Why do they put up with this guy?

So, somehow I doubt he's somehow lacking in a specialty, but from the description of his apparent focus issues (plus the fact that taking medication to help with focus nearly took him out) I wonder if the way his tinker stuff goes involves having a bunch of little things, if the lack of focus is somehow a sign of what his specialty actually is.

Oh fucking boy

Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay (sarcastic)

Also I don't know why they specifically would go to cities that have already been Endbringered but there's a real "kick them while they're down" energy to it that I do not care for. Goddamn jackals.

Is it the "another tinker" thing or the "that wasn't Armsmaster" thing that he's more excited about lmao

Weld's adapting a little better to his role, and Clockblocker is able to keep his mouth shut and play along, so things are improving.

I dunno man, it's a citywide apocalypse, does bedtime matter anymore?

Hey what the

Fuck

is going on here

Tinker-to-tinker communication

Y'know, now I'm curious what the wages are for a non-Tinker Protectorate member. Obviously Tinkers can have it made if they've got something the higher-ups want, but is Miss Militia making enough to own a house? Is your income tied to merch sales?

Think this is the first time someone has outright said triggering as a parahuman rewires your brain to some extent. Curious to see further elaboration on that.

I think if you're gonna hire a mole, you should make sure they can lie convincingly. That feels like step two.

(Step one is "make sure you can trust this person to be a mole for you")

Fucking gottem

Well hey Kid, looks like you're pulling your weight after all

Current Thoughts

I do think Sentinel is a neat arc but I'll admit, in recounting and rereading this it lost me a little bit. That might just be the Travelers fight though, I could feel the lack of stakes to the fight like a gap between my teeth.

Kid seems like a solid character, classic impulsive inventor with an actual exploration of what that impulsiveness does to his work ethic and self-worth. I'm glad he gets a chance to shine here and I hope he figures out his exact specialization so he can stop being so down on himself

The Wards do seem to be coalescing into more of a team as things progress, sure would be a shame if the resident lone wolf was to fall for obvious bait and disrupt that or something.

[milky-fixx]

day 2, amon: masks

kinktobruary day 2

amon x reader // legend of korra

summary: amon is an enigmatic leader, but someone you would follow till the end of time. it doesn’t bother you that you’ll never see the man behind the mask. really.

tw/cw: 18+ only, minors dni, masks, under the table BJs, not really kinky till the end? more introspective/character study

word count: 1.8K

Amon never takes his mask off.

You’ve grown intimately aware of Amon in one kind of way, in the manners of flesh, in the way bodies can move and fit against each other in different configurations under the moonlight, but he remains as closed off as ever in every other aspect of his life. He remains a man of mystery.

Even now, as you work your hands over his throbbing length, he betrays little beneath the mask. If you weren’t attuned to the unique signs of his arousal—the way his breath catches ever so slightly when you curve your wrist, the narrowing of his dark gaze, the tendency for his fingers to twitch and grasp at something, as if he’s not used to being at someone’s mercy—you wouldn’t be able to tell he was enjoying this. But because you’ve grown used to staring up at those dark eyes and what little of himself he offers during these intimate moments, these are things you can count on. Things that make Amon somewhat less of a figure, and more of a human.

In contrast, you’re bare. He doesn’t ask you to bare yourself to him, but he does ask that you take your mask off. He says it’s so he doesn’t forget your face, but you know Amon. You know his keen eye to detail, his attention to body language. You’re sure that he could recognize you in a crowd.

You wonder if he just wants it to feel less impersonal to him. And maybe part of you hopes that, by letting him see you like this, bared open, he’ll also decide to bare some of himself to you.

Regardless of masks, there is another clear indicator of his arousal—the hard column of flesh in your grasp that throbs at your every expert movement.

He sighs raggedly, and you take it as a sign to lean down and pucker your lips around the head of his cock. There’s not much of a scent to Amon. He smells clean, like soap, with a hint of ruggedness, like pine. When you take him deeper into your mouth, his breath hitches ever so slightly, and he starts making short, quick thrusts into your mouth.

“Now,” he says, and you pull off, substituting your hand for your mouth. Amon is a kind man; when he finishes, he never makes you swallow his release. It dribbles into your fist, and you’re reaching for a tissue.

Then he’s getting up, buckling his pants. All business, no time for loitering. “...Good work,” he says, with the air of a man who is used to giving commands, but there’s a tinge of hesitance, a keen attention to his phrasing, as if he himself is not sure of where the boundaries he’s drawing are. 

Nonetheless, as you nod, murmur a thank you to him as he slips out and stands guard so you can get dressed in peace, his hooded eyes imprinted into your thoughts. The image stays with you throughout the day.

—

Amon, you learn, is a man of restraint. Even when he’s hard underneath you, above you, inside of you, he rarely cracks his calm, measured demeanor. And even the cracks you do see are hairline tears in his persona. 

The night you started this affair of yours, though, is an entirely different beast. It was a victory for the Equalists, after one of the rallies amassed over a thousand spectators. The movement was growing, your voices gaining more and more traction. Back at the base, there was fanfare, celebrations. You had one too many drinks of Narook’s special mix, and even Amon, amidst the celebrations, decided to indulge in one or two. He caught you in a corridor, and amidst his commendation of the way you’d taken down benders in your last raid, something shifted in the air. At some point, the two of you grinding against each other like teenagers, your mouth nipping at every bit of exposed flesh on his neck... Amon lifted his mask just enough to sloppily press his lips against your neck. You remember the warmth of his lips, like the rice wine warming both your bodies.

While Amon’s goal as leader of the Equalists is to give everyone a fair chance, to level the playing field, in the bedroom, he rarely extends that to you. Amon in the bedroom is a force to be reckoned with, all commands and heated looks, and rough caresses. He has you wrapped around his finger, and all he has to do is glance at you. 

He took you on the simple couch in his office, the legs creaking menacingly with every one of his sharp, efficient thrusts. Efficient. That was how he liked to  fuck, much like how he led. But throughout the night, it was a mesh of both efficiency and fervor. Fire and ice.  Almost as if Amon himself was struggling with these own urges.

And in the end, when he was grunting out your name, his release drying cool on your thigh, he handed you his shirt to clean the mess. It was a small act, and he said nothing to accompany it, but the way he reclined next to you and your breaths moved in tandem said everything you needed to know.

—

He glances at you from the corner of his eye, just a glimpse, his hand hovering over your head. You always feel small under Amon’s grip, under the hands that could take away people’s bending, that are capable of taking on the Avatar herself, but this time even more so. The Lieutenant drones on and on about the next phase of the Equalists’ plan in this impromptu meeting: the takeover of City Hall. Your own hand is wrapped around Amon’s throbbing, stiff flesh under the table as he takes charge and lays out their line of attack. 

While the two of you are usually not this risky, you had little time to prepare, since the Lieutenant and his men had burst into the room just as you lowered to the ground. Amon quickly scooted you deeper under the table, and to all extents and purposes, looked nearly unaffected, if it weren’t for the exaggerated stillness to his form. 

A lick to the head of his cock has his fingers tangling in your hair, tightening in warning, his gaze discretely roving over to you. And then, when you slip the head between your lips, he leans forward slightly. The meeting drags on, Amon tightening his grip every so often when your sucking gets too exuberant. Papers are shuffled around, voices rise in argument, and then, as the door to his office open and the members of his task force slip out, he slips you onto his desk, his mouth hard and unyielding on yours. You feel the barest hint of stubble against your cheek, and you press harder against him, but then’s parted from you, his mask slipping back over his chin. 

The way his hands maneuver your body to a position he likes is as fluid as water. Almost smoother than the way he slips off both your pants, his girth parting you. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, your arms wrapping around his broad shoulders. 

Something about trying to fuck in Amon’s office while the Lieutenant and his Equalists hover just outside has you feeling more on edge. Each of his thrusts feel like they split you to your very core, and you eventually have to bite down on his shoulder. He groans at the pain, his hips slapping rougher against yours.

“Hold on, I need to tell Amon something,” you hear, just outside his door. As the sound of footsteps draw closer, the both of you still. The air between you stills as well. Oddly enough, you can feel Amon’s muscles flexing, almost imperceptibly, balls deep as he is inside of you. The doorknob rattles, then there’s a pause. There’s the sound of choking, then a howl of pain from outside. Eventually their voice grows quieter, whether with distance or pain, you can’t tell. But it almost sounds as if they’re being dragged away against their will...

“What was—”

Amon silences you by hilting himself in you once more. Your breath catches, and he starts rolling his hips into you with a frenzy. He fucks you hard and fast, almost invigorated by the thrill of nearly getting caught. When he grasps your thighs, dragging you closer to him as he buries his length into you, you cry out. His next thrusts misses its mark, his dick sliding against your mound before his release splatters in ropes onto your stomach. You’re trembling, adrenaline rushing through your veins as his gloved fingers brush against your clit, rubbing furiously to stimulate your hypersensitive nerves until you also reach your end, your entrance clenching around nothing.

Amon pants into your shoulder, his breaths echoing against the hollow wood of his mask, and for one, measly moment, your fingers twitch with the yearning to take it off. You’ve often fantasized about what he looks like. To your knowledge, he’s never showed anyone outside of the Lieutenant. You could picture him—a strong jawline, piercing, intense eyes… but that urge dissipates as your fingers trail across his mask, towards the top of his mussed hair before smoothing it back.

He stiffens against your touch. There’s a pause as if he’s attempting to comprehend the domestic action. When he addresses you, the ice glazing his usual commands is gone, replaced by the lull of waves right before a typhoon approaches.

“We have a rally in ten.”

“...Of course.”

“I trust you’ll make it there alright?” He pulls away from you, his eyes searching you, looking for something Loyalty, perhaps? Your feelings? 

You bare them all to him, as you have nothing left to lose. 

“Yes, sir.”

As you’re putting your pants back on, feeling oddly dejected, for whatever reason, he stops you with a clearing of his throat.

“After… After the Equalists manage to bring down Republic City, perhaps we can… celebrate.” He hesitates. “In... other ways as well.”

You smile softly. “Yes, sir, I would like that.”

Amon may not be the most transparent leader, but you would follow him through the shipwreckage of the modern bending world. Perhaps he sees you as little more than an outlet, and you;re fine with that, really. You would take what little he offered you and make the most of it, as you had done with most or your circumstances.

And when it came down to it, maybe the man who was inside you was a man who didn’t even know himself, much less was someone for you to attempt to piece together. Still, in those moments where your bodies stayed connected past the cool of his ardor, and he seemed reluctant to leave… He never seemed more human than then.

[usafphantom2]

Randy’s Warbird Profiles: Grumman F7F-3P Tigercat

June 28, 2024 Angela Decker Warbirds News 0

By Randy Malmstrom

Since his childhood, Randy Malmstrom has had a passion for aviation history and historic military aircraft in particular. He has a particular penchant for documenting specific airframes with a highly detailed series of walk-around images and an in-depth exploration of their history, which have proved to be popular with many of those who have seen them, and we thought our readers would be equally fascinated too. If Randy’s last name seems familiar, it is because the U.S. Air Force’s present-day Malmstrom AFB, near Great Falls, Montana is named in honor of his cousin, Col Einar Axel Malmstrom. Col Malmstrom commanded the 356th Fighter Group during WWII, flying P-47 Thunderbolts, the first of Randy’s articles featured an example of the type, P-47D 45-49406 (N7159Z) at the Flying Heritage & Combat Armor Museum in Everett, Washington.

This installment of Randy Malmstrom’s aircraft profiles takes a look at the Grumman F7F Tigercat. On January 2, 1930, Grumman Aircraft Engineering Aircraft Corporation was founded by Leroy (“Roy”) Grumman three of his friends, Leon (“Jake”) Swirbul, William Schwendler, and Edmund Ward Pool, when they left Loening Aeronautical Engineering Corporation. First located in Baldwin, New York, the plant was moved to Valley Stream and Farmingdale before moving to Bethpage, New York in 1937. Initially nicknamed the “Tomcat” (but considered too suggestive), what became the “Tigercat” was designed as a carrier-based aircraft for the larger U.S. Navy Midway-class carriers.

Detail design began in 1941 but was delayed by including an “unsatisfactory” tailhook design and poor directional stability with only one engine operational, but the biggest delays came from the Navy asking Grumman to give priority to the development and production of the Hellcat. The Tigercat was powered by a pair of Pratt & Whitney R-2800-34W Double Wasp radial engines and was fitted with four M2 cannons (two in each wing root) and four 0.50 cal. M2 Browning machine guns in the nose. It had a max payload of 2,000 lbs. and could be configured to as a single or two-seater.

XF7F 1 at Moffett Field 1946

XF7F-1 BuNo 03550, the second prototype, at Moffett Field, California in 1946. NASA photo

In November 1944, F7F-1 BuNo 80291 completed the type’s carrier qualification trials aboard USS Shangri-La (CV-38), but by that time the land-based VMF-911 had been training on F7F-1s at MCAS Cherry Point, North Carolina since the summer of 1944. After producing just 34 -1s, Grumman began turning out F7F-2s, which, at the Navy’s request provided space for a radar operator, which required the capacity of the reserve fuel tank to be reduced from 426 to 375 gallons.

The story of the Tigercat in World War II is a case of so close, yet so far. The first squadron to receive the F7F-2N was Marine Night Fighter Squadron Five three One (VMF(N)-531) Grey Ghosts, which embarked aboard USS Attu (CVE-102) on July 24, 1945. As the ship neared Guam, the atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima on August 6. After unloading in Guam, the squadron arrived on Okinawa on September 1, the day before the Japanese signed the “Japanese Instrument of Surrender the following day. The same fate befell Marine Photographic Squadrons Two Five Four (VMD-254) and Three Five Four (VMD-354), both of which operated the F7F-3P. The combat debut of the Tigercat would have to wait five years just across the Sea of Japan. During Korea, VMF(N)-542 Tigers and -513 Flying Nightmares flew night interdiction and close air support sorties with the latter squadron shooting down a pair of Po-2 biplanes on night harassment raids. Combat operations for the Tigercat ended in April 1952, when the Flying Nightmares flew it final combat sortie, although a number of F7F-3N/-4N/-3Ps continued to fly in non-combat roles until the end of the war.

While 1,500 Tigercats were commissioned, fewer than 500 were delivered, and, to my knowledge, only eight remain airworthy. This particular F7F-3P, BuNo 80483, was delivered to the U.S. Navy on July 24, 1945 and was assigned to NAS San Diego. After 46 hours of non-combat flying time, it was relegated to the boneyard at NAS Litchfield Park, Arizona but became one of less than twenty Tigercats eventually rescued from Litchfield. This example flew for SIS Q Flying Services out of Santa Rosa, California. In 1962, SIS Q Flying Services of Santa Rosa, California won a National Forest Service contract to provide airborne forest fighting services in California and Oregon and acquired a number of Tigercats, including 80483, and outfitted them for aerial fire fighting operations. Registered as N6178C, this aircraft flew over 1,300 hours with SIS Q Flying Services before eventually being sold.

Grumman F7F 3N Tigercat Sis Q Santa Rosa CA March 3 1988 RuthAS

Our subject Tigercat in Santa Rosa, California on March 29, 1988 during its career with Sis Q Flying Services. RuthAS photo.

In November 1988, it was shipped to Duxford, U.K., and for a time was painted as a Tigercat of U.S. Marine Corps VMF(N)-542. It was then acquired by a John Sessions entity in 2003 for the Historic Flight Foundation which is now shuttered but was previously located in Spokane, Washington. In 2016, it was sold to Comanche Maverick Air, L.L.C., a Houston, Texas-based entity, owned by Dan Friedkin. It is currently painted as an F7F-3P with tail code “MW” of U.S. Marine Corps VMJ-1, and in the name of a former Tigercat pilot, aeronautical engineer and author Lieutenant Commander A.M. “Mike” Granat, United States Navy (Ret.), Lt Commander Granat flew over 30 aircraft, including the Tigercat.

About Randy Malmstrom

Randy Malmstrom grew up in a family steeped in aviation culture. His father, Bob, was still a cadet in training with the U.S. Army Air Forces at the end of WWII, but did serve in Germany during the U.S. occupation in the immediate post-war period, where he had the opportunity to fly in a wide variety of types which flew in WWII. After returning to the States, Bob became a multi-engine aircraft sales manager and as such flew a wide variety of aircraft; Randy frequently accompanied him on these flights. Furthermore, Randy’s cousin, Einar Axel Malmstrom flew P-47 Thunderbolts with the 356th FG from RAF Martlesham Heath. He was commanding this unit at the time he was shot down over France on April 24th, 1944, spending the rest of the war as a Prisoner of War. Following his repatriation at war’s end, Einar continued his military service, attaining the rank of Colonel. He was serving as Deputy Wing Commander of the 407th Strategic Fighter Wing at Great Falls AFB at the time of his death in a T-33 training accident on August 21st, 1954. The base was renamed in his honor in October 1955 and continues to serve in the present U.S. Air Force as home to the 341st Missile Wing. Randy’s innate interest in history in general, and aviation history in particular, plus his educational background and passion for WWII warbirds, led him down his current path of capturing detailed aircraft walk-around photos and in-depth airframe histories, recording a precise description of a particular aircraft in all aspects.

Author ProfileRelated Posts

Angela-Decker

Angela Decker, from McPherson, Kansas, discovered her passion for aviation after earning a Master’s in Military History from Norwich University in 2011. Since 2012, she has volunteered with vintage aviation groups, excelling as a social media content creator and coordinator. Angela has coordinated aviation and WWII events, appeared as Rosie the Riveter, and is restoring a Stearman aircraft. She is the Operations Logistics Coordinator at CAF Airbase Georgia and an accountant with a degree in Economics from the University of Georgia. Her son, Caden, shares her love for aviation and history and is studying Digital Media Arts.

@VintageAircraftNews.com

[workersolidarity]

🇮🇱⚔️🇾🇪 🚨

CASUALTIES ARRIVE AT HOSPITALS IN YEMEN AFTER ISRAELI AIRSTRIKES ON HODEIDAH

📹 Scenes from the arrival of the wounded to a hospital in the port city of Hodeidah, in western Yemen, after the Israeli occupation forces bombed an oil refinery at the port, leading to massive fire and resulting in a number of casualties.

According to reporting in the Israeli and Lebanese media, at least a dozen, but as many as 25, Zionist F-35 stealth fighter jets, F-15 fighter jets, reconnaissance aircraft and refueling planes were brought together in a well coordinated attack, which the occupation army claims had no American involvement (Yemeni sources contradict this claim), to target a power station and other areas of the port of Hodeidah.

The city is under the control of the Ansar-Allah movement and is located on the Red Sea in western Yemen, some 1'000 miles from the occupied Palestinian territories.

According to Al-Mayadeen News, Israeli raids targeted the Ras Katheeb power station in Hodeidah Governate, leading several fires to break out at the oil refinery, which local fire and civil defense teams are struggling to extinguish as the configuration rages at the port's oil storage facilities.

In a statement by the Israeli occupation forces (IOF), "Fighter jets struck military targets of the Houthi terror regime in the area of the Hodeida Port in Yemen, in response to the hundreds of attacks carried out against the State of Israel in recent months.”

“This is a complex attack, one of the farthest and longest carried out by the Israeli Air Force. It required careful planning and preparation for a variety of possible threats in the area,” IOF Spokesman Rear Adm. Daniel Hagari said in a press conference.

Yemeni sources contradict the claim that only Israeli forces were involved in the strike, telling Lebanese News outlet, Al-Mayadeen, that the attack was coordinated between American and Israeli occupation forces.

The source noted the nature of the targets chosen by the Zionist army is "evidence that the enemy is blind," adding that "the aggression will be responded to."

Meanwhile, a member of Yemen's Supreme Political council, Mohammed Ali al-Houthi confirmed that "the Israeli enemy's bombing unites the Yemeni people, and there will be more effective strikes."

"The crime committed by the Israeli aggression would not have happened without the coalition and support from America and Britain, and their participation in it," al-Houthi said of the strike. "This Israeli crime will not deter us from continuing to support Gaza, but rather there will be operations that will disturb the sleep of the temporary entity."

Similarly, the head of the Yemeni negotiating team, Mohammed Abdul Salam, emphasized that pressuring the Arab country to stop supporting the people of Gaza is a "dream that will not come true for the Israeli enemy."

Abdul Salam warned that "the brutal Israeli aggression will only increase the determination, steadfastness and persistence of the Yemeni people and their valiant armed forces, and in an escalating manner."

Additionally, Mohammed Al-Bukhaiti, a member of Ansar-Allah's Politboro warned that the Zionist entity would "pay the price for targeting a civilian facility," adding that "we will meet escalation with escalation."

The Palestinian resistance also denounced the attacks. In a statement issued by the Hamas resistance movement, the resistance condemned "in the strongest terms the brutal Zionist aggression against the sovereignty of the Republic of Yemen and the targeting of oil and civilian facilities," affirming its full solidarity "with the brotherly Yemeni people and the Ansar Allah group, and we mourn their martyrs and appreciate their courageous positions."

The resistance group Palestinian Islamic Jihad also condemned the Zionist aggression on Yemen, and condemned "in the strongest terms the governments that allowed the Zionist aggression aircraft to pass through their airspace to carry out their crime."

#source1

#source2

#videosource

@WorkerSolidarityNews

[canmom]

today i had the bright idea to organise all my videos. right now they're spread across three hard drives, following a rather haphazard organisation scheme - sometimes based on director, sometimes based on studio, sometimes based on country of origin, sometimes just getting a top level folder because I couldn't think of a good grouping.

well, now they're all going on one hard drive (and i need to make some kind of raid setup so i don't lose the lot if it breaks). i have an old raspberry pi sitting around which might be able to act as a media server/seedbox if it still works. anyway, the question is, how do I organise this thing?

top level is easy enough - animation here, live action there. then I can further sort by country level categories like anime, donghua, etc. - easy enough so far.

but then it's like... sometimes it makes sense to sort by studio, like the Ghibli movies should live together for example. and sometimes director makes more sense, like Masaaki Yuasa's stuff should be together even if he made it at 4°C, as with Mind Game. and sometimes I couldn't tell you which studio or director made a thing, so it would just get a top level folder.

and then it's like... Studio 4°C has a very strong identity as a studio so their stuff should probably live together, right? unless it was directed by Masaaki Yuasa, who gets his own folder..? and should 90s Berserk, animated at Oriental Light & Magic, live with the later film trilogy by Studio 4°C? in that case they shouldn't go in the 4°C folder.

I could put it in one 'objective' scheme, by year for example, and use some kind of system of symlinks to also organise by director, studio etc. but clearly what I'm really looking for is a tagging system. it's common to have that for music libraries. however, I only want to play back in mpv, since no other player is as configurable, properly supports ICC profiles and vapoursynth, etc. etc. mpv is a great player but it's not a library system. probably the open source world has figured this out at some point? also I want to be able to access this drive from Linux and Windows.

clearly i need to just categorise them by Borges' Celestial Emporium and call it a day...

[virtualizationhowto]

Top 5 Home Server OS distros for self-hosting

Top 5 Home Server OS solutions for self-hosting #homelab #selfhosted #homeserverOSrecommendations #besthomeserver2023 #CasaOSvsDietPicomparison #mediaserversetup #UmbrelOSfeatures #topserverOSforRaspberryPi #networkattachedstoragesolutions

Home servers and home server labs have exploded in popularity because users want to self-host and learn self-hosted services, keep control over their data, and just geek out overall. There is much interest in “home server OS” solutions that make installing and standing up self-hosted solutions easy. This guide discusses the top 5 home server operating systems you should check out. Table of…

[mychlapci]

@ dataslut prowl anon I have a suggestion what if prowl decided to test RAID configurations for his memory like. Clearly just for safety reasons. Not cos it immediately halves his usable storage and destroys him

this dataslut prowl thing is great because i have 0 idea what half the stuff i read about it means. i am not tech savvy. dataslut prowl anon, take this one away.

[enarei]

my main problem with FFXIV currently is that the levelling experience is both too steep and not steep enough in terms of the pace at which you unlock new skills and when the game expects you to learn how it interacts with the rest of your job. as you're progressing through the MSQ any player that actually *enjoys* the gameplay is going to be doing duty roulettes outside of just the ones the story sends you to, but with the way they're configured the probability of you being confined to ARR dungeons at lvl 50 is disproportionately high compared to those of later expansions. not only does ARR have the most dungeons, a much larger share of the player base has them unlocked.

the problem is that at 50 you're stuck with the bare minimum amount of spells for your class to not feel utterly disjointed, and the boss encounters are very leniently designed around this fact. there's no meaningful dps or heal checks at any point and the vast majority of mechanics can be safely ignored. which is like, not terrible in itself, leveling dungeons don't have to be hard, and I'm sure people will say there's content specifically made to cater to that playstyle (locked behind like 4 expansions lol), but whatever.

the problem is that as you get new abilities through the expansions, you NEVER get to practice using them in the dungeons you've already been to and are already comfortable with, only in the new dungeons that come few and far between through the MSQ, which you likely aren't going to see very often in the duty roulette, and you're less prone to experiment in them, as you're not accustomed to the mechanics yet. as a healer this sucks specially because I can't even use my shiny new abilities in the overworld, I must be in combat to generate resources, and I have nothing to spend them on besides myself.

there's such a disparity between the point at which I get a new button to press and the point at which I'm actually allowed to press it, because more often than not they're wholly dependent on other skills which are still locked behind several more levels, and so they just sit in my hotbar unused. and I'm like genuinely worried about what I'm going to do once I get close to current content, because I'm forced to rely so much and adapt to a playstyle where I don't have 50% of my job's core buttons, it feels like I'll be forced to do all of the learning once I'm actually inside a difficult raid, to the detriment of other players.

[kyluxcryptidfest]

Once upon a time in fandom history the words Mothman Stensland were uttered into the void. The kylux collective consciousness forgets nothing. These thought forms grew into Mothman Stensland, Eldritch being Kylo, Kitsune Shiba Inu Hux and others.  We invite you to suspend disbelief and join our quirky eight day fest.   We’ll see you Wed, March 22! Each day has two prompts you can use one or combine.

RULES

This is a moderated collection, and works will be approved at the discretion of the mods.

Every contribution must feature Kylux or a Kylux Adjacent ship and fulfill the cryptid theme in some fashion. For example: “The Logan clan told stories of a Mothman living down in the ravine. Clyde didn't believe it until he saw who was raiding his strawberry patch.”

Pre-slash and polyamorous configurations are both welcome! 

Contributions may be in any medium: fic, traditional or digital art, photography, moodboards, dolls, Sims, edits, Lego, food art, ice sculpture as long as no Yeti are harmed during the process.

We accept works in any language. (Just make sure it's tagged clearly so we can confirm!)

Collaborations and anonymous works are welcome.

Please tag your works according to AO3's rules and policies and include all major ships, characters, and tags. Improperly tagged works will not be approved.

The collection will open to submissions on Wed, March 22nd. However, any work posted during the 2023 calendar year is eligible for inclusion.

Be kind and have fun. 

[khanhannahlewis]

HELPED for the Glimpses of the Past ask game

(@is-the-battlemech-cool-or-not)

Niles, 3073.

MechWarrior Hannah stalks her Rifleman along a low ridge, in rear of the rest of Fire Star. The Trinary she belongs to had dropped onto Niles the previous day to raid Clan Hell's Horses enclaves for materials. Battle Star was behind, moving along the creekbed running down the middle of the valley, Striker Star was ahead, running down the valley to locate enemy positions. At least a reinforced Trinary is operating in the area, with significant infantry and CV support, but the MechWarriors of Clan Blood Spirit are superior,

          Hannah sweeps her torso off to the right, where the ridge flattens out, then climbs up to a heavily wooded slope. While her duty was to watch the valley and skies, covering Battle Star from both enemy Mechs and aerospace assets, the woods off to her right worry her.

          “MechWarrior Hannah! Leave the woods to the Elementals, watch your radar.”

           “Aff Star Commander.” As Hannah swings her torso around, she checks her radar. “Incoming, bearing 163, high.” It takes a moment for the bandit to enter the range of Hannah’s targeting computer and view screens. A Hell’s Horses Sabutai, A configuration. Massive autocannons open up on the Fire Star, sending up dirt and pieces of armor. Hannah opens fire, Pulse lasers rapidly thrumming, targeting simulations drawing lines of blue light over the paths of the invisible beams. One beam strikes the small dark Bible on the top of the Aerospace Fighter and it goes down, crashing behind Hannah in a fireball, unable to pull out of its strafe run without a pilot. The Star in front of Hannah is ravaged, chunks of armor missing and systems smoking. One Mech stands still, smoke billowing out of its cockpit. Suddenly, a Summoner bursts from a hidden position in the woods. Hannah swings her torso around, backing away as long ranged missiles impact across her torso, followed by the blast of  a particle cannon. 

           The computer sounds off “Warning, Left torso armor depleted.” Hannah for her part let's off with her Pulse lasers as the Summoner jumps forward, opening up with its LBX and PPC simultaneously. An explosion rocks Hannah and a weight seems to fall off her mech, becoming unballanced. “Warning, left torso destroyed.”

          The Summoner stalks forward now, almost gloating. The other members of Hannah's Star slowly approach, already heavily damaged. Another LBX hit knocks Hannah back, tossing her around the cockpit of her Rifleman. A PPC hit sends her falling back. Her mech hits the ground with a heavy thud, and she slams her head into the headrest. The Summoner fills her cockpit view screen, doubled by her swimming vision. The LBX autocannon fills her view, and she can see down the barrel as a shell slides into the breech. Suddenly, an Elemental climbs up on the Summoner, then another. The cockpit is torn open, a laser fired in, and the Summoner stops. One of the Elementals lands on the front of the Rifleman. Hannah opens her hatch and crawls out, standing next to the Elemental. 

          “Thank you for the save. I am MechWarrior Hannah.”

          The Elemental’s stubby, neckless helmet slides open, revealing a scarred face. “Point Commander Ashes. Should I signal a transport to pick you up? I must return to battle.” By now Fire Star is moving away.

          “Aff. Thank you.” Ashes turns and moves away. 

          “Seek me out afterwards if you want to couple.”

           “Alright.” Hannah crosses her arms and leans against her wrecked Rifleman as the Elemental point moves away.

 ( @a-krogan-skald-and-bearsark you asked the same)

[usafphantom2]

25th July, 1939. First flight of the twin engined Avro Manchester bomber at Ringway. Due to the RAF’s urgent need for modern aircraft, an initial order had been placed for the type before the two prototypes flew, but its entry into service was delayed by a Luftwaffe raid against Avro’s Trafford Park factory. The first operational sortie flown by Manchesters eventually took place against Brest in February 1941.

During the aircraft’s development, it had become clear that its complex Rolls Royce Vulture powerplants were not only chronically unreliable, but failed to produce their designed performance. Manchesters struggled to reach altitudes above 10,000 feet, leaving them vulnerable to flak and fighters, and proved incapable of flying for any distance on one engine. Around 30 aircraft are believed to have been lost due to engine failure during the type’s brief career.

With various modifications improving reliability during 1941, it’s possible that the problems with the Vulture could have been resolved in time, but it was not to be. With Rolls-Royce now fully focused on the Merlin engine, it was decided to test a new variant of the Manchester, which itself was a fundamentally sound design, powered by four of these instead. This would ultimately result in the Avro Lancaster, which shared many of its predecessor’s components.

Production of the Manchester was curtailed after only 200 had been produced; more than half were lost on operations or in accidents. The type flew its final sortie with Bomber Command in June 1942, serving on for a few more months as a conversion trainer for the Lancaster.

Pictured:

1) Avro Manchester first prototype at Ringway. A central tailfin was soon introduced to correct instability. This would be removed on later production examples, which featured the larger outer fins used on the Lancaster.

📷 baesystems.com

2) Manchester Mark I of 207 Squadron in flight, showing the early tail configuration.

📷 IWM CH 17291

3) Manchester IA flying over Lincolnshire in November 1941. The lineage to the Lancaster is clear in this image.

📷 IWM CH 3890

4) A 2000lb bomb about to be loaded into an Avro Manchester, probably of No. 207 Squadron, circa April 1942. The capacious bomb bay of the type would prove an asset for its successor.

📷 IWM HU 107781

[eponymous-rose]

It's a fairly busy week, and this kind of thing always helps me stay on-task - here's the day in a nutshell.

7am: Wake up (groggily) - I've found that I like having extra time in the morning, especially early in the week. Cuddles with Clara the cat, a little yoga (I have accumulated enough broken bones and scars that being totally sedentary means my whole body promptly turns to stone), shower, a nice breakfast and coffee while I catch up on work e-mails. A scientist from Switzerland who wants to do a two-year postdoc with me has sent me a document summarizing the research ideas we discussed at our last meeting! It's very neat stuff, and we're going to be putting together an application in the summer to get the full two years funded externally.

9am: Dry hair and set off to work! Manage to catch the 9:20 bus and have a chill commute to campus. Check e-mail again on my way into the building and realize our facilities manager has responded to an earlier e-mail, so I detour to his machine shop and chat a bit about the issue (I'm teaching an instrumentation class this quarter, and one of my students has been having trouble with her datalogger). He gives me a new USB cord, so I jog upstairs to try it out - no luck, just empty com ports and error messages galore :(. I also check out some of the hardware, but there are no suggestively bent pins or anything to give clues as to what's happening, and it looks like the console has stopped remote readings altogether. At a bit of a loss, I send him an update and head down to the lounge to get some hot water for my tea, then sit upstairs and quickly skim through the slides for today's lecture, which I haven't actually seen since last year. While I'm doing that, our facilities manager comes up with a fresh new datalogger and offers to configure it for me while I'm in class!

10:30am: Class goes well! We talk about some fun topics that are near and dear to my heart, and while everyone is a little on the shy and less-talkative side today, two different people are brave enough to confirm they got the right answer for the in-class exercise. Early on, the facilities manager comes in with the fresh datalogger, and I hand it off to the relieved student. Hopefully this does the trick! I get through my slides a few minutes early (probably because of the aforementioned quietness), which gives me time before my next meeting to quickly post grades for the students who gave an in-class presentation on Friday, as well as to link to the cloud recording of today's lecture.

11:30am: Research meeting! A colleague and I are co-advising an undergraduate research intern on a project we're seeking funding for (and have just hired a graduate student onto). She's progressing really nicely and just had a couple questions about a polar stereographic projection she was working on ("Is it meant to look that weird?" "Yes, absolutely."). We got her pointed in the right direction for the next couple of weeks, then raided my candy bowl and hung around a couple minutes chatting about how her classes are going. As she and my colleague leave, I see a message from the student with the troublesome datalogger confirming that the new one works! Whew. I send the victorious news to our facilities manager, with my endless thanks. The meeting wrapped up quickly, so I have time to munch on a protein bar (I usually pack a lunch, but I know I'm going out for a big dinner tonight) and enjoy my tea.

I'm a little nervous about a class I'm teaching next quarter - it's a really specialized grad-level class and if it gets fewer than 5 students, it gets canceled. Currently nobody is registered at all. On my colleague's advice, I put together an e-mail to all the grad students to let them know what the course has to offer.

I still have some time before my next calendar item, so I jump into the early stages of a scientific journal review due on Friday. It's a bit of an annoying process - it was originally rejected, and I got brought onto the resubmission when it was a long-ass paper plus 100 pages of replies to reviewers, and now we've made it through TWO MORE ROUNDS of reviews, so it's basically just a giant novel-sized mess of people yelling at each other. But it's gonna get done!

Just as I'm getting into the swing of things, two of my students pop by and stand in the hallway giggling nervously. Apparently they can't find their TA for another class and have a question about class material, so they figured they'd ask me instead - I gently redirect them to, you know, the professor of that course. "Yeah, but we're scared of him," they say, and I try not to die laughing with the knowledge that his wife is in the office next door to me hearing all this. Mixed feelings on this one - on the one hand, I'm glad my students see me as someone they can come to with questions. On the other, it's a time crunch on me that my old-white-dude colleagues don't have to contend with. They eventually head off in search of their professor while I go upstairs for...

12:30pm: Forecast briefing! We have weekly meetings for a national weather forecasting competition we're all in - it involves issuing 4 forecasts a week. I'm... okay at it (usually in the top quarter of competitors, at least beating the models), but we have some RIDICULOUSLY talented forecasters in our group. Today's briefing is entertaining enough, and we all squabble over where we want to forecast next week (the ~1000 participants vote on the city).

1:30pm: Research meeting! This one is with my most junior graduate student, who's a bit overwhelmed with coursework (the first year of our Master's degree is 9 extremely difficult courses before they finally get to do research full-time). We talk through it a bit and he asks for my advice on project/time management, so we chat about pomodoros, the Star Trek Scotty method (always give yourself a buffer and act as though things are going to take more time than they really will), and not writing the entire day off if you wind up doing nothing all morning - you can still hit a reset switch and have a busy afternoon if you need to. Just generally "be kind to yourself, because in the end the self-imposed guilt of not finishing something will stop you from progressing more than anything else." We also talk organizing code and avoiding hard-coding even when it makes the initial time investment much higher. It's a good chat, ending with some restaurant recommendations when he finds out I'm heading to his hometown this weekend! We wrap up early with some specific goals for the next couple weeks, and, after sending in my forecasts for the day, I get back to my review. I also order 5 lbs of candy to refill my candy bowls. It's been that kind of quarter. An e-mail comes in from a student interested in my course and asking for more info! She confirms she's probably going to take it, after consulting with her advisor. Heard from another colleague that she's got one student interested - two down, three to go!

2:30pm: Research meeting! How obvious is it that I like to front-load my week with meetings? This one's with a freshman undergraduate student who's started working with me as a research assistant on a new project... except the project we were originally going to work on together is going very very slowly (our collaborators at a different university are dragging their heels). He met with my PhD student a while back and got really interested in his work, and he apparently knows more than enough coding to be able to follow along, so I went ahead and got him access to 300,000 core hours and 1,000 GPU hours on a national supercomputer to do some exploratory data analysis. As you do. Tragically, the initial project also only works on PCs, and he's a Mac user, so that's another reason to pull him off one project and onto the other. Alas. The project he can't do is a SUPER appealing project to me (very repetitive, boring work that requires little brain-power - please let me do this from time to time!), so I might participate for the heck of it. Meeting ends a little early, so it's back to the review.

3:30pm: We're hiring! It's a dual hire with another department, so it's been a bit fraught, but the grueling two-day interviews roll on. This is number 3/5, so we're getting into the swing of things, and it's time to go attend the public seminar portion of the interview for this candidate. He is... absolutely astonishing on paper, like a once-in-a-generation kind of mind, so I'm already excited to see his talk. We'd be incredibly lucky to have him, although I'm not entirely clear on why he's leaving a super prestigious professorship two years in. I didn't get to schedule a one-on-one meeting with him since he has to leave earlier than expected tomorrow, but I'll be joining him for dinner tonight. The talk goes quite well, although I hear the students buzzing over whether he's genuinely collaborating or just doing the tech-bro thing of coming in and claiming to solve all our problems... Plenty to think about at dinner tonight. I believe this will be what the kids call a vibe check. (We also have a chalk talk tomorrow where he'll present his work to just the faculty + postdocs, so more chances there!)

5pm: Got some time to kill before heading over to dinner at 5:45. I was originally going to do some work, but my brain is a little fried at this point and I may just zone out and scroll for an hour. More tea! That'll solve everything.

5:45pm: Meeting a colleague to go grab the candidate and Uber over to the restaurant together - I love this place! Lots of good food, and plenty of non-alcoholic cocktails and veggie/vegan/gluten-free options, so an ideal spot to bring a guest speaker or faculty candidate. He was very pleasant to chat with and really knew his stuff despite having just had an exhausting day. Good food, good chats all around. Home by 9:30pm, phew.