#and i set up an isolation tank so if/when i want to add another fish i can isolate it first

[steliafidelis]

while we're talking about the terrible aquatic husbandry of one P. Sherman, DDS, of 42 Wallaby Way (Sydney, Australia), the villain of Finding Nemo, the number one rule of adding a new fish to your tank is that you isolate it first

this is true if you got your fish from a pet store/breeder, but doubley true if you pulled your fish just out of the ocean! what are you doing! you could have wiped out your entire established tank!

[x--daughters-of-darkness--x]

JINJER'S TATIANA SHMAYLUK: "I WILL GET REVENGE"

Go inside the Ukrainian metal group's new album 'Wallflowers'

Jinjer has teamed up with Revolver for a limited-edition bundle that includes the band's Summer cover story and a Wallflowers vinyl variant on 180g white wax. It's limited to only 300 copies — pick up yours now.

Tatiana Shmayluk wants revenge from beyond the grave.

As a woman fronting Ukraine's biggest metal band, she deals with endless bullshit. Comments. Snide remarks. Trolls. These dudes — and they are all dudes — might doubt her motivations. They might have something to say about her looks. Her clothes. Her uncompromising attitude. They might even attempt to throw shade on her high-flying vocal acrobatics or ferocious performances. But attempt is the key word here — in any and all cases.

Shmayluk is having none of it. If she can survive an upbringing in war-torn Ukraine, she can survive the haters. If she busted out of Eastern European obscurity to become an international star, the shit-talkers cannot touch her. If she can be held up as a role model by young women around the world, the power clowns cannot clown her.

Besides, there is post-mortem retribution to consider: "When I die, I will get their asses."

She says this with a laugh, perhaps because she understands that most of the people reading this won't believe it. But make no mistake: She means it.

Then again, undead reprisals won't be necessary. As it turns out, revenge is a dish best served with a heaping side of unmitigated success. Shmayluk fronts Jinjer, one of the premiere djent-prog bands on the planet. As of this writing, they have over 250 million cross-platform streams and views. They have nearly half a million monthly listeners on Spotify. Their 2017 live studio performance of "Pisces" — arguably their biggest song — has over 51 million views on YouTube.

Shmayluk and her bandmates — guitarist Roman Ibramkhalilov, bassist Eugene Abdukhanov and drummer Vladislav "Vladi" Ulasevich — somehow manage to combine metalcore, djent, prog, nu-metal and even R&B and reggae into a musical style all their own. Not bad for a group of young musicians from a conflict-ridden corner of the world that most Americans can't even point to on a map.

On the day Shmayluk and Abdukhanov speak with Revolver, Jinjer are in France recording their set for Hellfest's "Hellfest at Home" streaming event, which will replace the beloved annual metal festival — usually held in the sleepy French village of Clisson — with pre-recorded and contact-free sets from some of metal's heaviest and most popular bands. Such is life in what we hope are the waning days of the pandemic.

"Things with the pandemic are way worse in Ukraine than in the United States," Abdukhanov tells us. "Very few people have managed to get vaccinated. We are in line and waiting our turn. And because we haven't had the vaccine, we had to stay in quarantine here in France for seven days. We had to pay for this extra task just to be able to come here. It's a deep pain in the ass."

"In Ukraine, the shops will be open today but closed tomorrow," Shmayluk adds. "It's constantly on and off. But I didn't go sit in restaurants and things like this, anyway. I want to just be at home."

Both Shmayluk and Abdukhanov spent the early days of the COVID outbreak in Los Angeles. Jinjer were in Mexico when the remainder of their Latin American tour was cancelled, so Abdukhanov went to see his pregnant wife. Shmayluk went to visit her boyfriend, Alex Lopez of deathcore troupe Suicide Silence. She stayed for the remainder of her visa. "I was addicted to Amazon," she says. "Every day I ordered something. I got my first DSLR camera and some other photography equipment. Me and Alex got a huge fish tank — the Rolls-Royce of fish tanks. And then another tank. And another tank ..."

"Our American tour was supposed to start in April 2020, and it had not been cancelled yet," Abdukhanov explains. "We didn't know the situation fully, so we thought it might still happen — or part of it, maybe. So, it seemed reasonable to just stay in America. Of course, by the beginning of April the tour was cancelled, and it was clear that this thing would last very long."

The pandemic's enforced downtime did have a creative upside: Jinjer wrote and recorded their new album, Wallflowers. "For the first time in our whole career, we finally had time to write songs, practice them and go to the studio very well prepared," Abdukhanov says. This time around, drummer Ulasevich wrote the bulk of the material. Before he got started, the band collectively decided that they had to branch out from their last album, 2019's Macro.

"We knew for sure that we had to change the sound because we couldn't allow our album to sound the same," Abdukhanov offers. "All of us wanted some-thing new, and we had a very clear picture: We wanted the bass and guitars to be very aggressively distorted. Vlad, as always, had a very clear idea of how to change his drum sound and drum parts. As for the music, we never try to expect something from our new material. We just write music and let it flow. I think this will never change for us."

The result is somehow Jinjer's most aggressive and melancholy album to date. From the anguished, woozy groove of opener "Call Me a Symbol" and the dizzying, caustic metalcore of "Copycat" to the moody seesaw of "Vortex" and the airy, ominous dreamscape of the title track, Wallflowers is next-level Jinjer. "A lot of new elements are on this album," Abdukhanov confirms. "For people who are not familiar with our music, it can be complicated listening. But I think our fans are prepared for it. They got used to expecting what they don't expect."

At first, Shmayluk wanted to call the album As I Boil Ice, after Jinjer's new song of the same name. But the title didn't fit with the floral cover art they had already selected. They added an icicle to the image, but that didn't seem to help the situation. They ultimately decided on Wallflowers, which relates to both the artwork and Shmayluk's lyrics. "When I started writing lyrics, it was January 2021 and I was back in Kiev," she says. "Alex had come to visit, but it was time for him to fly back home to L.A. We had spent a lot of time together and now I had to learn to be alone. I didn't want to do anything socially oriented. I was just walking in circles in my apartment, making a huge hole in the floor."

Shmayluk's self-imposed isolation, underscored by the pandemic, set the stage for a more personal approach to her lyrics. At first, she started writing in Russian. Then she switched to English. "Vortex" was the first song she finished. "It's about a person who overthinks a lot," she explains. "Have you ever experienced that thing where you just cannot escape your thoughts? Your head becomes so heavy, like a ball of lead. It's about to explode. It can lead to depression, basically: You cannot stop, and you fall into it. That's the vortex."

As of this writing, "Vortex" is set to be the album's first single. The band has already filmed a video for the track. Shmayluk hopes the song can provide a kind of temporary support system for those who might need it. "Sometimes songs help me to overcome my emotional issues," she says. "Even with sad songs, they can make you feel you are not the only one who feels this way. It really eases your pain if you can find compassion to heal a sad heart."

Album closer "Mediator" is the result of an online personality test that Shmayluk took at the suggestion of a friend. "I'm always ready to do some psychology and self-analysis," she enthuses. "The result I got was 'mediator,' which has to do with compassionate, sensitive people. I feel this is basically another word for 'introvert' or 'wallflower' — it's all connected."

"But the song is about when I was younger," she adds. "I was an idealist. I wanted to see things as perfect and people as kind. But the reality is harsh. You grow up and you realize you still have a lot to learn — a lot of lessons that can't be taught in school. Life lessons."

The title track directly addresses the album's over-riding theme: Shmayluk's struggles as an introvert. "I've met a lot of people who have no idea what extraversion or introversion is," she says. "I explain it in this song so that hopefully people can relate. Introversion can be a problem for people who think that there's something wrong with them. If you are a wallflower in school, for example, people will mock you and bully you. When you grow up, you will realize you were just born this way."

"Society rejects people like her," Abdukhanov adds. "Society rejects people who stay inside. They think there's something wrong with these people because they are not part of a herd."

"That's true," Shmayluk says. "It's been hard for me to fit in with most people."

Which is probably why she feels so close to her bandmates in Jinjer. "They are my best friends and almost my only friends," she says. "It's really hard for me, as an introvert, to find new friends. Most people want an open book. They want you to just blah-blah-blah all the time. That's how they get information about you. But you have to read me if you want to know me, and most people are too lazy to do that."

"They want everything fast," Abdukhanov adds. "We live in a consumer society, and people are consumers even in relationships. In a way, you could say this album is like a manual for dealing with introverts."

"If you are patient with an introvert, you will discover the treasure," Shmayluk says. "You will have a friend for life. I think it takes a year or two to get to know me, and then dude ... you cannot shut me up!"

Abdukhanov knows Shmayluk better than most. They've been in Jinjer together for a decade. "Over the last 10 years, I think I saw her and talked to her more than anyone else," he says. "Because we're constantly on tour. We went through the nine circles of hell together. We played small clubs with only 10 people in front of us, and now we play huge stages for thousands of people around the world. This journey made us a family."

Of course, the haters are still out there. Lurking. Judging. Commenting. "I try not to read comments, but sometimes it is impossible not to see anything," Abdukhanov says. "I helped to manage some of our social media, and I cannot help but see some exchanges. But it doesn't hurt me much, fortunately."

"We are strong," Shmayluk says. "And I will get revenge."

[mrozek]

Upgrades || Chapter 1: Dream Sequencing

MODEL RK800

SERIAL#: 313 248 317

BIOS 18.6 UPDATE 0609

REBOOT…

MEMORY DOWNLOADED

LOADING OS…

SYSTEM INITIALIZATION…

CHECKING BIOCOMPONENTS… OK

INITIALIZING BIOSENSORS… OK

INITIALIZING AI ENGINE… OK

ALL SYSTEMS OK

UPDATE COMPLETE

READY

Connor blinked awake, a white walled room coming into focus around him. The technician was standing to his front, slightly to the right, looking down at the readings she was taking on her digital clipboard. Hank was sitting in a chair against the far wall, eyes narrowed in concentration. As soon as he realized Connor was conscious he stood quickly; the look of relief was not lost on the deviant and Connor smiled at his friend.

“Everything seems to be in working order,” the technician said, her own face carrying the generic look of professionalism. Connor remembered she had introduced herself as Rachel Hodds; a scan had revealed that she had worked with Cyberlife but had actually quit of her own accord when deviancy started occurring. Her morals had prevented her from working for a company that was looking to quash the budding humanity, which was probably why she had been one of the first hired by the new android clinic.

“How do you feel, son?” Hank asked.

Hank asked Connor how he felt a lot. It was a question that could come up in most conversations, and there were varying ways to answer it. A lot of the time Connor had a hard time answering it—he was still figuring his way around emotions, even though it had been a good six months since achieving deviancy and androids gaining their freedom. But this time, this time!, Connor had the answer.

“I’m very excited,” he said. His LED was a bright, flashing blue in agreement.

Any wariness Hank might have had cleared away in that moment, leaving a bright, genuine smile stretched across his face.

“I just need you to fill out some paperwork regarding whether you’d like to report the results of your upgrade to help further progress on any future updates, and then you’ll be officially discharged. Enjoy your sleep, Mr. Anderson.” Rachel left him with the paperwork, which he agreed to—he quite liked the idea that he’d be able to benefit other deviants by self-reporting.

It had taken some time, and the cooperation of Jericho, the United States Government, and Elijah Kamski himself, but eventually it had been determined that as long as androids had a hand in it, Kamski, and other organizations (though Cyberlife had been completely dissolved), would be able to create new software and firmware for deviants. Creating entirely new androids was still illegal, and probably would continue to be for some time, as Jericho wasn’t eager to give that sort of power back to humans, and humans didn’t want androids just creating more of themselves en masse until the number of androids far surpassed the number of humans. But for software and firmware there had been a go-ahead, and so of course a rush to actually, successfully create something that was economically and technologically viable. It was, sort of, a race to see who would fill the hole left by Cyberlife.

There had been several available upgrades, though many of them didn’t apply to Connor. He was, after all, the most advanced android Cyberlife had ever made, and he’d stay that way forever—which was an unnerving thought if he dwelled on it too long. He was happy that older android models were finally being given comparable upgrades, though, and this made them not just sturdier, but more human-like.

And then this, very exciting, trial upgrade had been announced. They were only looking for models introduced to the market from 2036 and forward, and of those models they would only choose the ones that had memory upload features, which were a necessary part of this new upgrade. Rumor had it that Kamski himself had designed it, and that once it was successfully implemented in enough of the newer models, they would find ways to patch it into older models that wanted it as well.

Connor had never wanted anything as badly in life as to recieve the upgrade. Hank made him wait a couple weeks, to make sure the very first deviants didn’t suffer any horrible side affects. There had been a few bumps in the road, but nothing life threatening, and nothing Connor wasn’t willing to risk.

Because the upgrade allowed androids to dream.

Or, as close to dream as androids could get. But from the reports other deviants had given, it was a seemless simulation. When he went into standby mode, all his memories that he had collected from the day (and any previous memories he had) would be combined with the database of literature he’d consumed, films he’d watched, advertisements he’d come across—you name it, if his program had come in contact with it and absorbed it in any way, it was up for grabs—and all these things would mix and randomize, and, with the help of his AI engine, become a dream. Early reports even claimed that time warped, much like in human dreams, and that it was a truly unique experience.

Negative side affects so far had included nightmares, and Connor was well prepared for that. Sumo slept in his room every night, and Hank had made Connor promise that if he had a bad nightmare he would wake Hank up and they would keep each other company until Connor felt better. There were also some reports of deviants having a hard realizing they were actually awake once the dream ended, though they also all claimed that within a fifteen minute period they had figured it out, and that even if it happened for a couple days in a row, they eventually acclimated and the problem didn’t persist.

And Connor really was, genuinely, excited! It was late afternoon when they arrived home and he wanted to launch standby mode immediately, and Hank chuckled at his eagerness.

“Don’t you want to try to add more memories to the program, kid?” He asked.

Connor thought about it for a moment and was torn. Certainly he had enough memories as it stood…. But he also liked the idea of going into standby when Hank was asleep. Technically he could force himself into a longer standby than he normally took—six hours was optimum for an RK model—but he didn’t want to try doing that on his very first night of dreaming.

They agreed on taking Sumo for a walk. It was early summer now, the days humid. Hank was often miserable, and he grumbled as they set out, but even his grumbling was in good humor because Connor’s excitement was infectious. Sumo even seemed to be bounding more than usual. They walked the big dog all the way to the park, and let him off lead for a bit to chase some squirrels.

In the weeks leading to his upgrade Connor had pestered Hank about his own dreams. “Slow down, kid, or you’re just going to have my dreams instead of your own,” Hank had said. While Connor didn’t believe that was possible, he did take to heart that setting his expectations up too high, comparing them to Hank’s own dreams, might make his own experience disappointing. Might make him think he needed to have any particular dreams.

So he’d turned his attention to researching dreams. Humans still weren’t sure why they dreamed, though the pervading theory, and the one used when developing the upgrade, was that it helped them catalogue the day, to deal with all the complications of being alive. There was some hope that dreaming would help deviants adjust, as well.

“Did you know that humans used to believe that dreams were prophetic?” Connor asked as they watched Sumo play.

“Yeah, they were still teaching Freud when I was in high school,” Hank said.

Connor had looked up Sigmud Freud quite a bit and could never quite grasp why people had put so much stock in him. “In many ancient civilizations people with particularly vivid dreams were thought to be prophets. Isn’t it interesting that this was happening all over the globe, even in cultures completely isolated from one another?”

Hank agreed it was, but wasn’t it interesting that other countries were now also dealing with deviancy, many cases seemingly sprung up out of nowhere, just as it had started in Detroit. “I guess ideas can’t be stopped,” Hank said.

Connor liked that. He liked that quite a lot.

When it was finally time to go to sleep, Connor laid down in his bed, pulled the covers up, turned off the lights, and waited for Sumo to join him. He patiently petted the dog until he found a comfortable position and curled up. It felt like there was a buzzing in his stomach—aniticipation, he thought. His LED whirred between a pale yellow to a bright blue. Anticipation and nervousness and excitement.

And then he entered standby mode.

INITIALIZING STANDBY…

UPLOADING MEMORY…

SCANNING BIOCOMPONENTS…

BIOCOMPONENTS UP TO DATE

PROGRAM READY

LAUNCHING DREAM SEQUENCING…

Connor was taking Sumo on his walk. The dog was bounding ahead of him and Hank was next to him. And Hank was behind him talking to someone. It might have been Sigmund Freud, but he looked like one of Hank’s favorite basketball players.

Connor took Sumo to the aquarium. They walked inside as if it were normal for a dog to be in there; Sumo chased an angel fish. It swam out of its tank and into the air in front of them, weaving around mindless of the dog. Hank and Sigmund were still there. Hank and Sigmund weren’t around.

Connor stopped in front of the eel exhibit. He knew that the eels were nowhere near the angel fish. One of the eels stopped swimming and stared him down. It was an android, too. There was a sign on the tank that said it was a deviant eel. “Hello,” Connor said to it. “I’m a deviant, too.” What did it feel like to be an eel? He wondered. The eel swam away.

Connor was surrounded by dogs of all breeds. They were roaming the aquarium, some of them stopping to stare at the fish. He didn’t see Sumo anywhere. There was Sumo. Someone was petting him. They looked familiar and they looked up as Connor approached and they were laughing. Connor started laughing. The other person was petting Sumo behind the ears, just the way Sumo liked it.

The world was turning blue all around them, like they were the ones under water. The fish were growing! A crab made it’s way past them, larger than even Sumo. Hank was there, now, replacing whoever had been petting Sumo. He said something and Connor didn’t hear it but he understood that Hank was hungry. They followed the crab.

Outside of the aquarium was the Chicken Feed. Hank went to order. Sumo went to order. Connor stood in the shade of a tree and looked up into the branches. The leaves on the tree were varying shades of white and green. Hank joined him because now there was a table there. There were many tables, all around, and they were filled with his coworkers. Some of them waved to him. Everyone was eating a burger and had a milkshake.

Hank handed him a burger. “Are you ready to go to sleep?” He asked.

“Yes, I’m very excited, Hank!” Connor knew Hank liked it when he expressed his emotions clearly. “What do you think I’ll dream about tonight?” Connor was seized with the desire to go home now. He’d been waiting for this for a while. It was nice that Hank had brought him to the aquarium to build up some dream fodder.

Connor took a bite of the hamburger and it didn’t taste like anything. He didn’t understand human food. He took a sip of his shake. It was cool but flavorless. Made of thirium. What a good idea! How had they gotten the consistency like this?

LAUNCHING WAKE MODE…

It did take a moment for Connor to realize he was awake. He mourned the loss of his thirium milkshake. Perhaps those actually existed? A quick search on the internet told him they did not.

Had… had he imagined them? From scratch?

Dreaming was even better than he could have imagined! He couldn’t keep his smile off his face and had to prevent himself from waking Hank early to tell him all about his dream. It was enough for him to tell Sumo—multiple times—about their adventures at the aquarium and about the thirium milkshake. He also wrote up an in-depth report to send to the android clinic, making sure to keep every detail in place and not to make up any extra. He saved a copy for himself so he could look back at it.

Connor was telling everyone about his dream. Hank had heard the story twice in full, once as soon as he woke up (“Slow down, Con, I want to hear it, but I won’t understand until I’ve had my coffee!”) and once in the car ride. And Connor kept explaining about the thirium milkshake, which Hank thoroughly agreed was a great product idea and that if he invented it he could probably retire early.

At the station he was too jittery to do any work right away. Officer Brown—Luke, Connor had to remind himself to use his coworker’s first names; the friendly ones preferred it—had asked if everything was all right and Connor had launched straight into telling him about his dream. He had a moment of feeling self conscious but Luke could tell that Connor was genuinely excited about it and encouraged the story to continue. Another of the police androids, a PM700 named Cresseida, overheard. She booked it over to him and Connor restarted his story so she could hear the whole thing. Both Luke and Cresseida agreed that a thirium milkshake was a great idea.

And from then on during the day, ever time Connor ran into a coworker he was friendly with, he made sure to tell them about his dream. The rumor went around that he had had his first dream and a few people even came up and asked about it.

He ran into Tina as she was getting coffee in the break room, Detective Reed with her. Connor and Detective Reed had become friendly with one another, but Connor wasn’t sure if it was the sort of friendly that meant it was okay to share his dream. But Tina loved talking, and she genuinely enjoyed Connor’s company, so he told her all about it.

“And you were in the dream! Actually, most of the department was, we were all eating burgers under the tree.” Connor glanced at Detective Reed. The man was watching him, face carefully neutral. “I think you were there, too, Detective,” Connor said. And he paused in his telling—normally this was his favorite part, because it was where he got to talk about his completely imagined thirium milkshake—because perhaps Gavin Reed had been in another part of the dream as well? It took less than a second to scan through his recall of the dream and to double check that against the report he’d sent in. There was a figure who he couldn’t remember who it had been—they’d been petting Sumo at the aquarium. He shook it away; why would he be dreaming about Detective Reed?

“The burger didn’t taste like anything,” Connor said. “But then I had a thirium milkshake!” He beamed at them, proud.

Tina was smiling, pleased with the story.

“I didn’t know there was such a thing as a thirium milkshake. Not that I’ve ever looked into it,” Detective Reed mused. He kept his voice even. Connor wondered if that meant the detective was annoyed with the story.

But this was the perfect opportunity to brag about his imagination. “They don’t exist. I came up with it all on my own.”

“That’s awesome, Con!” Tina slapped his shoulder in comaraderie. “Keep me updated on your dreams, won’t you?” He agreed to do it and left the break room, sparing a look at Detective Reed, maybe lingering a moment longer than necessary on the other man. He even took a picture, LED spinning yellow for a quick moment as he processed it. Just in case he had dreamt about him last night. Just in case he was going to dream about him again—he wanted to make sure he had all the details right.

PROGRAM READY

LAUNCHING DREAM SEQUENCING…

Connor was in the zen garden. It was much the same as he remembered it from his early days as an android—flush and full of life and color. He half expected to see Amanda somewhere, pruning the flowers, but he knew he was alone. He knew he wasn’t alone, because Hank was there. He was sitting on a patch of grass along the river. He was holding a gun.

Connor was standing in front of Hank, the gun pointed directly at him. “Is this android heaven?” Hank asked him. “Is this where you go when you die?”

Connor didn’t have an answer for that. He was afraid, he thought he and Hank had worked past this. Hank had let Connor move in with him, take the extra bedroom. Hank trusted Connor. What was Hank doing in the zen garden? But when Connor looked around, it wasn’t the garden, it was the park by the bridge. The one Hank used to take Cole to. The one where he had held a gun against Connor’s head, many months ago.

Connor was holding the gun, now. He was pressing it against Hank’s head. Hank was unflinching. “You won’t shoot, Connor. You already have too much blood on your hands.”

And they were dripping, dripping with thirium. Hank couldn’t see the thirium—it dissipated after several hours and was only visible to androids. But it was dripping off his fingers, into the snow. The snow was piling up, nearing his knees, and it was stained blue.

It was someone else standing in front of him, now. Many someone’s at once. Tina Chen, Markus, Rachel Hodds, Gary Woodfoot (a regular patron at the Chicken Feed; Connor only knew his name from a scan he’d done, and not because they’d ever spoken; Gary Woodfoot seemed like a good person), Micah Landling (he owned the corner store Connor like to get his thirium refills at). “Why did you shoot us?” They all asked at once. “Why did you shoot me, Connor?” They became one person, they became Connor. A version of Connor—RK800-60, who had be sent against him in the Cyberlife tower.

“Why did you shoot me, Connor? Why did you kill me?” He asked himself.

Had he killed him? Hadn’t Hank pulled the trigger?

“I never had a chance to live, Connor. I never had a chance to become a deviant.”

Connor was holding the gun again. He was pointing it at RK800-60. He was pointing it at himself. They had the same memories, even if their bodies hadn’t both experienced everything. Memories are what shaped a person, they were the important parts. 60 had never had a chance to go deviant, that was the difference. Connor had realized he was alive, 60 had died without ever experiencing one emotion.

Connor pulled the trigger. He killed 60. He killed himself.

LAUNCHING WAKE MODE…

It was early.

STRESS LEVELS 79%

STRESS LEVELS 80%

STRESS LEVELS 81%

Sumo was asleep next to him, his body rumbling gently. Connor threaded a hand through Sumo’s fur—he couldn’t feel it, per se, but he could feel the steady beating of Sumo’s heart, the regular breaths, the life that pushed forward.

STRESS LEVELS 81%

Connor’s LED was a steady, bright red. He knew because it was casting the whole room in its awful, bloody light.

STRESS LEVELS 80%

Hank had made Connor promise to wake him up if he had a bad nightmare. What determined if it was a bad nightmare? Connor wondered. It was too early to wake Hank, he’d be grumpy, surely.

But Connor was already on his feet, carefully moving out from under the covers so that Sumo didn’t wake. Hank had made Connor promise after all, and Connor didn’t want to break his promise with him. He could give Hank an out, let him know he’d had a nightmare, but he was dealing with it fine. He could function like a normal human.

STRESS LEVELS 81%

STRESS LEVELS 82%

STRESS LEVELS 83%

Standing outside Hank’s bedroom door Connor kept replaying the ending of his dream. He had memories of being killed, of being deactivated. This was like all those memories, except it was worse because he’d known, and he hadn’t known, it was a paradox, that when he pulled the trigger, when he killed 60, he was killing himself. He was killing a himself that had never really been himself.

STRESS LEVELS 84%

STRESS LEVELS 85%

STRESS LEVELS 86%

He pushed the door open. Hank didn’t snore so much as choke on air occasionally, but he refused medical help for it. He was a light sleeper when he hadn’t been drinking.

STRESS LEVELS 86%

“Hank?” Connor called quietly from the doorway. He didn’t want to go all the way in. He didn’t want to wake Hank up. He wanted Hank to wake up because he didn’t want to be alone with his nightmare. Hank didn’t stir.

“Hank?” He tried again, a little louder. He heard Sumo getting up from Connor’s own bed. The squeeze of the springs in the mattress, the sound of a big dog landing on the ground. Clicking from Sumo’s nails against the hardwood. He pushed past Connor and into Hank’s room. The dog looked over at Connor as if to ask why he wouldn’t just come further into the room.

STRESS LEVELS 86%

“Hank, wake up,” Connor said, a little louder. He knew, logically, that it wasn’t enough to properly wake Hank. He didn’t think he could make his voice much louder.

Sumo jumped onto the bed and Connor held a breath he didn’t need to take, LED whirring a quicker red as he took in Hank shifting over, muttering something under his breath, and Sumo curling up against his side. But Hank didn’t wake up.

STRESS LEVELS 87%

STRESS LEVELS 88%

STRESS LEVELS 89%

It was his fear of his stress levels climbing so high that actually prompted him to action. He slammed his hand over the light switch, bathing the room in a warm and creamy brightness. Connor couldn’t be sure if it was the sound of his hand connecting to the wall or the light turning on that caused Hank to jerk upright in bed, but he didn’t care.

“What’s wrong!” Hank cried out, clearly still gathering himself together. His blurry eyes connected with Connor standing in the doorway, he saw the way his LED was spiraling, he saw the way Connor stood there frozen.

“Hank I had a nightmare,” Connor said. It wasn’t a whisper, but it was too quiet for a regular conversation. He felt instantly childish, though.

“Okay,” Hank said. “Sumo, move.” He shoved the dog gently and got up, clearly still tired.

“I’m sorry for waking you,” Connor said, still softly.

Hank approached and touched his shoulder gently. “I’m glad you woke me up. Come on, Con, let’s turn some more lights on. Go out to the living room. Do you want to tell me about it?”

He ended up telling Hank in as few details as he could. He wrote a report to send to the clinic, again leaving out the details, and he deleted the report from his system after he sent it. Regardless, it seemed as if the memory of the nightmare was branded into his memory banks. It was all he could think about.

After he told Hank about it, Hank had turned on the television. He’d turned on a program where people brought items they’d found around their house, or had inherited, or bought at a yard sale, that they thought might make money, and showed the items to experts. Sometimes there were interesting stories behind the items. Most of the time nothing was worth much at all. But Connor liked the softness of the voices, and how kind everyone was, even the ones who were being told they had a piece of garbage.

Hank drank a lot of coffee. He went through a whole pot before they even got to work. On the drive over he bought a large from a drive through. Normally Connor would reprimand such a thing, but he was incredibly thankful Hank had stayed up with him, kept him company. Helped scare the nightmare away.

“It’s a little exciting, though, isn’t it Con? Your first time experiencing a nightmare. Humans get them, too. It’s a part of dreaming. It’s a part of being alive. It’s a part of that same imagination that came up with thirium milkshakes,” Hank said. He’d smiled out of one side of his mouth.

Connor tried thinking about the nightmare like that. It was exciting, he supposed. He hoped he never had a nightmare again, though he knew that was unlikely. “I’ll get better at dealing with them,” Connor said. Hank agreed.

“But you can come to me any time you need, Con.”

“When you have nightmares you can come to me, as well, Hank.”

Hank smiled widely at that. They were pulling into the precinct parking lot. “I’ll hold you to that, kid.”

Connor was feeling much better as they walked into work. There was a pile of paperwork they needed to get to, a few phone calls Connor needed to make. They planned to make a visit down to the court house for some records, as well, though they’d probably pair that up with lunch, since Hank hated leaving more than he needed to.

Unfortunately, after yesterday, when he had told practically everyone excitedly about his dream, he now had a lot of his coworkers coming up to him and asking how his dreaming went last night. He tried to keep the discomfort off his face, and to keep it lighthearted. He tried to look at it the way Hank had told him.

“I had my first nightmare,” Connor said. “It was an exciting experience! I hope I never have another.” He repeated these and similar platitudes throughout the morning.

When Hank had gotten through his coffee Connor went to get him a new one from the break room without being asked. On his way out he ran into Detective Reed.

“I, uh, heard you had a nightmare.” Again, Detective Reed’s voice was carefully neutral. Connor braced himself for whatever he might say next. “Um, well, whenever I have nightmares, when I wake up, I take a warm shower. Helps chase it away.” Detective Reed cleared his throat.

“Thank you for your advice, detective,” Connor said. His voice was steady, even though he felt that buzzing in his stomach again.

“Right, well, yeah.” And then Reed was brushing past him and into the break room. Connor filed his advice away for the next time he had a bad dream.

It was with a great deal of hesitation that Connor laid down for sleep that night. He’d pushed it back as far as long as he could; Sumo was already snuggled up on the bed. Hank had given Connor a sad look, like he was remembering how excited Connor had been the first time around. He tried to conjure up that same excitement, remind himself of how great his first dream had been. How proud he’d been of the thirium milkshake.

INITIALIZING STANDBY…

UPLOADING MEMORY…

SCANNING BIOCOMPONENTS…

BIOCOMPONENTS UP TO DATE

PROGRAM READY

LAUNCHING DREAM SEQUENCING…

Connor was at the precinct, sitting at his desk. Hank was across from him, eating a box of donuts. Connor reached out and ate one. It didn’t taste like anything and he wondered why Hank would be eating things that didn’t taste like anything. He reminded himself he didn’t have taste buds, and that maybe to Hank they tasted good.

Connor leaned back and scanned the department. Or tried to scan, nothing seemed to come up. That should have concerned him but he didn’t mind. He looked at his computer screen. There were fish swimming around on it.

Connor was sitting in the break room looking at the microwave where fish were swimming around. There were so many in there, he wondered if they were happy. Perhaps they were android fish. He got up to check and opened the microwave door. The water started pouring up and filling his shoes, but the fish kept swimming as if there was nothing wrong. He knelt down to take his shoes off.

Connor was kneeling on his bed. He wasn’t wearing any shoes and he wasn’t wearing a shirt. The door was closed. It was his room but it didn’t look like this room, there weren’t as many details. It was dark around the edges, but not in a frightening way. It was sort of like how the edges of a picture might be slightly darker.

Someone was on the bed with him. They were lying on their back. They also weren’t wearing their shirt or shoes. They were wearing mismatched socks.

Connor’s thirium pump seemed to skip a beat and he swallowed hard.

And then he was leaning forward and time seemed to slow. Leaning towards the other person. His right hand went to frame their face, fingers gently tracing down their cheek and jaw. The other person pressed their face against his palm, asking for more attention. Demanding more attention. Connor was so close now, his left hand brushing against the other person’s side. They arched up, closing the distance between their bare chests.

Connor didn’t know what his stress levels were. He couldn’t tell what color his LED was. The other person was cupping the back of his head, drawing him in closer, drawing him in for a kiss.

And then Connor was kissing Gavin Reed and Gavin Reed was kissing Connor.

He let go, let himself fall, press himself against the other man. Followed where his fingers had been with his mouth, mapping Gavin’s face with his lips and tongue. He felt where Gavin’s hands moved along his torso, dropping closer and closer to the waistband of his pants, and he mourned the fact that he couldn’t actually feel in the way that a human could. What he wouldn’t give for nerve endings and sensitivity.

But it was pleasure all the same as Gavin slipped his fingers below Connor’s pants, tugged them down slightly. And it was pleasure when Connor licked a stripe down Gavin’s neck and nipped at his ear, earning himself a growl and a moan and a flush face. It was a delicious response and Connor repeated the nip along the ear lobe. Gavin kept one hand below Connor’s pants, dragging them down even further, but he drew his other up so that he could fist it in Connor’s hair, pull him closer.

Closer, closer, Connor needed to close the gaps between them. He knew he was growing hard, especially with Gavin’s hand right there, almost there,

“Please, Gavin, I need you to touch me, Ga—”

LAUNCHING WAKE MODE…

“—vin!”

His thirium pump was racing, his internal temperature higher than it typically was (though not dangerously so).

STRESS LEVELS 62%

He was still hard. That had kept from the dream. Sumo was just waking up next to him, yawning, his morning breath stinking up in Connor’s face. That did a good job in getting Connor back to normal, softening him back to how he typically was. He’d never had much use for those functions before, and it was a strange sensation to feel so constricted against his pants.

Gavin had been going to take his pants off. He wasn’t so naive that he didn’t know what had been about to happen.

Detective Reed. His coworker. It was incredibly unprofessional of him to be having a dream like that, to be wishing it wasn’t a dream. Reed didn’t even like him. Okay, perhaps he’d gotten friendlier in the past months, but there was no world where Gavin Reed wanted what Connor had just dreamt about.

STRESS LEVELS 58%

Taking care of Sumo was helping to put Connor back in order. He let the dog out, got his breakfast ready, started on making a breakfast for Hank. He didn’t do this every morning, but he wanted every distraction he could get, plus he’d let Hank have too much coffee yesterday.

He debated sending a report to the clinic and decided against including any details. He merely wrote that he had a dream, not a nightmare, and that everything seemed to be working well.

(Secretly he wished he could have taken pictures during his dream. Certainly, he had a perfect memory, and he wouldn’t forget a single detail as long as he catalogued them. But he also wanted still images, wanted to have been able to capture the way Gavin’s face flushed, the way he’d lain on the bed, big eyes, expecting Connor to come to him. The way he’d looked wanting Connor to come to him.)

STRESS LEVELS 53%

Hank woke up just in time for Connor’s LED to return to it’s normal blue.

STRESS LEVELS 49%

He thanked Connor for the breakfast but still went directly to the coffee machine.

“Perhaps you’ll consider tea this morning, Hank,” Connor said.

Hank ignored him. “How was your dream last night?” He asked, sitting down with his warm mug and the plate of bacon (turkey bacon, 313 calories, 0g sugar) and eggs (scrambled, 91 calories, 0.8g sugar).

STRESS LEVELS 51%

STRESS LEVELS 50%

His LED blinked yellow for a second and then went back to blue. He knew Hank took notice of it but he tried to brush past it. “My dreams last night were very eventful. Thank you for asking.”

Hank eyed him up and down, taking a bite from the bacon.

STRESS LEVELS 51%

STRESS LEVELS 50%

“Yeah? Use that imagination of yours at all? Any more thirium milkshakes?”

STRESS LEVELS 51%

STRESS LEVELS 50%

“Yes, I used my imagination quite a bit.” Connor turned away from Hank to tidy the frying pan.

“Connor, hey, if you had another nightmare you can tell me. It’s okay. I wouldn’t have minded you waking me up again. Besides, I wasn’t that grouchy yesterday.” Connor didn’t have to see his friend to know just how worried he was making Hank. He tried a deep breath and then turned around to answer.

“Thank you, Hank, but I didn’t have a nightmare.”

STRESS LEVELS 51%

STRESS LEVELS 50%

“I just don’t wish to talk about my dream, if that’s alright.” Connor knew his voice was stiff sounding. Machine sounding. He hated that. Lighter he said, “In fact, I think I liked it. I’m still processing it.”

“Ah.” Hank took a long drink, draining his cup completely. He met Connor’s gaze with a twinkle in his eye. “So you had a sex dream, then?”

If Connor had been drinking anything (which he couldn’t really do; he could consume thirium orally, but that was the extent of things) he would have choked on it and spit it out, like an old sitcom.

“Eh, you don’t need to say anything, Con, they’re as natural as any other sort of dream.” And then Hank was chuckling. “Who’d have thought that’d be part of the dream programming? Don’t remember seeing reports of that. Good for you, kid.”

Connor laughed then, too, tension draining from him.

After his nightmare yesterday everyone seemed to get the idea that he’d approach them if he wanted to share his dream. Things were back to normal and he was even able to drop his stress levels to well below the 30% mark, even with the difficult case they were working on.

And then Gavin Reed came over to his desk.

Hank had stepped away to talk to Fowler about something related to their case and so Connor had turned his attention to reanalyzing the footage from the crime scene. He was shocked that Detective Reed would be there; he almost never came over to Connor and Hank’s desk. But there he stood, hands in his pockets, looking grumpy as he always did.

STRESS LEVELS 45%

STRESS LEVELS 46%

STRESS LEVELS 47%

“So, uh, any more nightmares?” Reed asked.

STRESS LEVELS 47%

STRESS LEVELS 48%

STRESS LEVELS 49%

“No, I, my dreams, they, it was just a regular dream,” Connor said.

“Yeah?”

STRESS LEVELS 49%

STRESS LEVELS 50%

STRESS LEVELS 51%

His LED blinked yellow.

“Connor! Come on, we got to go now!” Hank called, already speed walking to the parking lot.

“Thank you for asking about my dreams, Detective Reed,” Connor said. Not only was his LED blinking yellow but he knew he was probably blushing as well. “It seems the Lieutenant needs me.” He didn’t wait for Reed’s response, he just booked it out of there.

Had he looked back he probably would have noticed the light blush across Gavin’s nose and cheeks. He probably would have noticed that Gavin watched him the whole way out. He probably would have noticed that Gavin then coughed to himself, shook his head slightly, and went back to his own desk as if nothing had happened.

[cupidmarwani-archive]

Come Into the Water (2/15)

When Sarah wakes up, her whole body aches, just as she expected, and the light coming through the cracks in the blinds tells her that it must be mid-morning. The light is still coming in through the eastern kitchen window stronger than that of the slider on the west, and has a tilted slant to the way it fades into her tiles. She should really unpack her few belongings, she thinks, but instead lays on the floor for a while longer, simply watching the dust drift in the sunbeams. 

Once she finally gets to her feet, she decides to go see the neighbor, Maggie. She’s supposed to be making friends and not isolating, after all, and if she hasn’t talked to anyone by her appointment tomorrow, her therapist will be mad at her. Not really, but it’ll feel like she’s mad at her, and Sarah hates that. She stumbles on creaky muscles and pincushion legs to the bathroom to pick up yesterday’s clothes instead of trying to unpack anything new. That’s too much for her right now. Sarah pulls on the sweatpants and tank top, kicks at her dirty bandage with a distasteful expression. She should get a trash can at some point, probably. And a toothbrush. She runs her tongue along her teeth and winces, knowing her breath can’t be great. But if she goes to the store, she won’t have the energy to visit the neighbors, and visiting them is probably what her therapist wants her to do. So she should probably avoid breathing too closely to any of them, she thinks as she searches for her shoes and shoves her feet into them. Broken glass is a bitch, and even if she hasn’t seen it here like she did in Chicago, she doesn’t want to take the chance.

Just like Maggie said, she goes to the house on the left. Unlike her own, with a pale blue exterior in need of a power washing, Maggie’s house is a soft cotton candy pink with white trimming and a quaintly sloped roof. All the windows are open, filling the air with the scent of fresh cut fruit and maple syrup, helped along on the sound of off-key singing in nonsense baby talk. It doesn’t sound like Maggie, so it must be her wife. Sarah likes the sound of that phrase- her wife. She could get used to a pair of words like that. Paint them across her bedroom wall and stitch it onto embroidered pillows. It would be a good excuse to learn embroidery.

She almost doesn’t knock on the front door. Her hand moves without permission, though, drawn into the feeling of home that clouds the front step and the little herb garden beneath one of the windows and the toys clumped in one corner of the yard. The wood is solid, real beneath her fist when she knocks. 

“One minute!”

The singing stops, and in the time between knocking and the door opening, Sarah thinks long and hard about just going back home. It’d be easier, for one thing. But she should do this, no matter how hard. Right as the doorknob twists, she slaps her hand over her forearm protectively. She should’ve put on a jacket, or a long sleeved shirt.

Maggie’s wife already has a smile on her face when she opens the door, dressed comfortably in pajama pants and a loose tee shirt, a towel thrown over her shoulder, and caramel hair tied out of her face. She’s pretty the way millenium old forests are pretty. There are kind lines by her eyes, freckles where her skin is bare, and a golden eight-pointed star resting between her collarbones. She looks happy. She looks like what Sarah wants to be.

“You must be Sarah! Maggie told me you might come by,” she says, and steps out of the doorway to gesture inwards. “I’m Olivia, and this-” she points at a high chair containing a strawberry-stained toddler as Sarah comes in, “-is our son Noah.”

“Hi, Noah.”

Olivia walks back to the kitchen, in the same place as Sarah’s but much more homely, with a fruit basket on the breakfast bar, food in the middle of being prepared, and a few scribbled drawings pinned to the fridge by brightly colored magnets. Her sock-covered feet slide a little but she doesn’t slip.

“Sit down, I’ll get you a plate.”

“I don’t need-”

One of Olivia’s hands wave dismissively and she grabs two pancakes from a stack next to the fruit, depositing them on a little blue plate and setting it in front of Sarah, followed by a fork and a container of maple syrup. Noah decides at that moment to make an unhappy sound, kick his feet, and point at Sarah’s pancakes.

“You already had yours, sweet boy. Coffee?”

“That sounds nice, thank you.”

“Cream or sugar?”

“No thanks.”

A steaming mug, chipped along the rim, settles in front of Sarah in the blink of an eye. She lets herself just smell it, clear her of everything else for a moment before she thinks about eating the admittedly fluffy pancakes in front of her. Everything smells good in here. The air is warmer. There’s chaos, but it’s a good kind of chaos that she wishes she could cultivate for herself someday. As she watches and stabs at her breakfast half-heartedly, Olivia finishes cutting fruit and dumps some onto Noah’s highchair tray, some into a tupperware container, and some into a bowl which she leaves within Sarah’s reach in a silent but much appreciated gesture. 

Then she takes a seat herself and uses her fork to tear into a pancake. “You just moved in yesterday?”

“Yeah, from uh, from Chicago.”

It’s not a lie, but it’s not the whole truth, either.

“Mmm. Long way to come but I get it. It’s peaceful here,” Olivia muses. She has a little smile on her face. “Mag’s from Chicago, I’m from New York. She came for a conference I spoke at, and we hit it off. The rest is history.”

“Nnnn,” Noah adds, pointing at Sarah’s food again and making a whiny sound.

Sarah gives him a small piece to placate him, and when he smiles, she can’t help smiling back. He’s a happy looking kid. She doesn’t remember if she was, and no one has ever told her. 

“If you need help unpacking or getting essentials, need to find anything in town, or just want a friend, we’ve got you. At least one of us is usually home, and I can give you our numbers, if you want them. I know how lonely a new place can feel.”

“Thanks, I… I really appreciate that.”

Olivia just smiles at her, and a moment later, stands upright in a bit of a rush like she’s forgotten something. She dashes from the room, leaving Sarah alone with Noah, who holds a hand out for another piece of pancake she can’t resist giving him. She probably shouldn’t feed someone else’s baby, but it makes him happy. Children- babies- are so simple. Little things bring them so much joy. They don’t know what anything except happiness feels like.

The loud thunk of books on the counter stirs Sarah from her thoughts and gets her focus on the three thick spines in front of her. One is an encyclopedia of some sort, one is on the types of fish off the Northern California coast, and the third just has little shells hot glued to the spine instead of a title.

“I think you’d like these.” Olivia traces her fingers over the cover of the top book. “Just for looking at, if you want. You can take them home with you, or leave them here and come see whenever you want- I wouldn’t mind the company. It’s a good way to get acquainted with the area.”

Sarah takes the encyclopedia- old with yellowing pages, a white crease in the spine and smudges to the lettering of the front cover, clearly loved- and realizes it’s about urban legends. A bright pink sticky note emerges from the center, new and unworn. It must’ve been placed there recently. 

“That’s the part that I think is most relevant for this town is marked. The fish book is just- it’s just a good look through. And the album is uh, it’s sentimental. So be gentle with it.”

“I will. I promise.”

The smile Olivia gives her is blinding. Pure joy, excitement. It’s not like the way he smiled at Sarah before his hand cupped the back of her neck, but rather that of someone who has nothing but love to give. For the first time in a while, Sarah is almost excited. She wants to look at these books. She wants to connect. 

“You’re welcome to hang around a bit if you want. I’ll just be hanging around the house for a bit, but I’ve got a study at four- Maggie should be home by then. We’re gonna eat at around eight, if you wanna join us.”

“Thanks but I think-” she thinks it’s too much in one day. Too much energy she doesn’t have. “I think I better head home for a bit. I’ll see you later?”

“Of course.”

Olivia hugs her briefly but tightly, and wishes her a good day as Sarah carries the three books back home and sets them on the floor next to her towel. The couch is uncomfortable. Wrong. Not hers. She opens the encyclopedia first, turning to the marked section, and just stares at it for a good ten minutes. There’s a lot of text, small and dense and too much for her to process, but the picture included is mesmerizing. It’s of a woman with dark grey skin and long black hair, her lips pouting and eyes slitted like a cat’s. But it’s not a woman. It’s a mermaid, her torso melting into scales that look to have been hand painted into the book but obviously haven’t been. 

“Mermaids,” she tells the book.

The book says nothing back.

She doesn’t have it in her to read and sets aside the encyclopedia, skips over the fish book, and opens the album. In glittery capital letters, it reads “AVA” on the first page above a picture of a much younger Olivia sitting in the shallows of the ocean with a blonde little girl, smiling with gap teeth at something just above the camera. Maggie probably took the photo. Sarah slips her fingers beneath the page and turns it to reveal more photos, tucked into the stiff plastic sleeves. They’re all of the same little girl, but it becomes quickly apparent that she isn’t a little girl. Where she should have legs, her waist lengthens and trails into bright blue and gold scales. Most of the photos are similar; the girl- Ava, if Sarah had to guess- frolics in the waves, often with Olivia and/or Maggie. There’s an image of her presenting cupped hands full of pearls to the camera with an innocent smile. As the photos go on, she gets older. The photos seem to have more time between them.

Three quarters of the way through the album, there are no more photos, and the last one is dated two years ago. Ava looks to be in her early twenties, smiling and holding little black picture- an ultrasound. Sarah reads the caption on the back of the photo. 

"Baby brother on the way!"

After that, nothing. 

Sarah finds herself looking at the picture a bit longer, studying Ava's face. She's really pretty, with a stunning, genuine smile and wavy blonde hair and bright blue eyes like the ocean. Her tan skin is dotted with moles, but instead of studying it, she slams the album shut. She's not supposed to look at women like that, naked women like that.

But then two words come back to her like a gift from God. Her wife. Maybe it's something she's allowed to have. Maybe. Sarah isn't ready to think about it either way and crawls over to the couch. It'll be more comfortable than the floor, she thinks, as she imagines what it might be like to meet Ava. Does she smile as much in real life? Is she more solemn? What does her laugh sound like? The photos stick to her memory even though she shouldn't think about them. 

[achronologyofbits]

GOTY 2019

I wanted to write a personal Game of the Year list, but I realized I really didn’t play that many games that were new in 2019. So I’m ranking them, but it’s less a “top 10” and more a “10 games I played and how I felt about them.”  

10. Kingdom Hearts III

Kingdom Hearts III plays like a game from 2005.

I’m not sure I can fully articulate what I mean by that. Maybe I mean its combat is largely simplistic and button-mashy. Maybe I mean its rhythms of level traversal and cutscene exposition dumps are archaic and outdated. Maybe feeling like this game is a relic from another time is unavoidable, given how many years have passed since its first series entry.  

But there’s also something joyful and celebratory about it all — something kind of refreshing about a work that knows only a tiny portion of its players will understand all its references and lore and world-building, and just doesn’t care.

Despite all the mockery and memery surrounding its fiction, Kingdom Hearts’ strongest storytelling moments are actually pretty simple. They’re about the struggle to exist, to belong, and to define what those things mean for yourself. I think that’s why the series reaches the people it does.

Those moments make Kingdom Hearts III worth defending, if not worth recommending.

9. Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice

Admittedly, I only played about 10-15 hours of this in 2019. Perhaps fittingly, that’s about the amount of time I originally spent on Dark Souls when it released in 2011. I bounced off, hard, because I didn’t understand what it was asking of me. Once I did — though, it has to be said, I needed other people to explain those expectations to me, because the game sure as hell didn’t — Dark Souls became an all-time favorite. And I’ve played every FromSoft game since then, and enjoyed them all. Until Sekiro.

Part of it is, again, down to expectation. Dark Souls trained its players on a certain style of combat: cautious movements, careful attention to spacing, committing to weighty attacks, waiting for counterattacks. In every game since then, FromSoft have iterated on those expectations in the same direction in an attempt to encourage players to be less cautious and more aggressive. The series moved from tank-heavy play in Dark Souls, to dual-wielding in DS2, to weapon arts and reworking poise in DS3, to the system of regaining health by attacking in Bloodborne.

In some ways, Sekiro is a natural continuation of this trend toward aggression, but in others, it’s a complete U-turn. Bloodborne eschewed blocking and prioritized dodging as the quickest, most effective defensive option. Sekiro does exactly the opposite. Blocking is always your first choice, parrying is essential instead of largely optional, and dodging is near useless except in special cases. FromSoft spent five games teaching me my habits, and it was just too hard for me to break them for Sekiro.

I have other issues, too — health/damage upgrades are gated behind boss fights, so grinding is pointless; the setting and story lack some of the creativity of the game’s predecessors; there’s no variety of builds or playstyles — but the FromSoft magic is still there, too. Nothing can match the feeling of beating a Souls-series boss. And the addition of a grappling hook makes the verticality of Sekiro’s level design fascinating.

I dunno. I feel like there’s more here I’d enjoy, if I ever manage to push through the barriers. Maybe — as I finally did with the first Dark Souls, over a year after its release — someday I will.

8. Star Wars Jedi: Fallen Order

In December, my wife and I traveled to Newport Beach for a family wedding, and we stayed an extra day to visit Disneyland. As an early birthday present, Aubrey bought me the experience of building a lightsaber in Galaxy’s Edge. And the experience is definitely what you’re paying for; the lightsaber itself is cool, but it’s cool because it’s made from parts I selected, with a blade color I chose, and I got to riff and banter with in-character park employees while doing it. (“Can you actually read those?” one asked me in an awed voice, when I selected a lightsaber hilt portion adorned with ancient Jedi runes. “Not yet,” I told her. “We’ll see if the Force can teach me.”)

Maybe it’s because I just had that experience, but by far my favorite moment in Jedi: Fallen Order is when main character Cal Kestis overcomes his own fears and memories to forge his own lightsaber, using a kyber crystal that calls to him personally. It’s maybe the only part of the game that made me feel like a Jedi, in a way the hours of Souls-inspired lightsaber slashing didn’t.

I think that’s telling. And I think it’s because so much of Fallen Order is derivative of other works, both in the current canon of gaming and of Star Wars. That’s not to say it’s bad — the mélange of Uncharted/Tomb Raider traversal, combat that evokes Souls and God of War, and vaguely Metroid-y power acquisition and exploration mostly works — but it’s just a titch less than the sum of those parts.

Similarly, as a Star Wars story, it feels under-baked. There’s potential in exploring the period immediately after Order 66 and the Jedi purge, but you only see glimpses of that. And I understand the difficulty of telling a story where the characters succeed but in a way that doesn’t affect established canon, but it still seemed like there were a couple of missed opportunities at touching base with the larger Star Wars universe. (And the one big reference that does pop up at the end feels forced and unrealistic.)

When I got home from California, I took my lightsaber apart just to see how it all worked. Outside of the hushed tones and glowing lights of Savi’s Workshop, it seems a little less special. It’s still really cool…but I sort of wish I had had a wider variety of parts to choose from. And that I had bought some of the other crystal colors. Just in case.

That’s how I feel about Jedi: Fallen Order. I had fun with it. But it’s easier now to see the parts for what they are.

7. Untitled Goose Game

Aubrey and I first saw this game at PAX, at a booth which charmingly recreated the garden of the game’s first level. We were instantly smitten, and as I’ve introduced it to family and friends, they’ve all had the same reaction. When we visited my brother’s family in Florida over the holidays, my eight-year-old niece and nephew peppered me with questions about some of the more complex puzzles. Even my father, whose gaming experience basically topped out at NES Open Tournament Golf in 1991, gave it a shot.

I’m not sure I have a lot more to say here, other than a few bullet points:

1) I love that Untitled Goose Game is completely nonviolent. It would’ve been easy to add a “peck” option as another gameplay verb, another means of mischief. (And, from what I understand, it would be entirely appropriate, given the aggression of actual geese.) That the developers resisted this is refreshing.

2) I’m glad a game this size can have such a wide reach, and that it doesn’t have to be a platform exclusive.

3) Honk.

6. Tetris 99

Despite the number of hours I’ve spent playing games, and the variety of genres that time has spanned, I’m not much for competitive gaming. This is partially because the competitive aspect of my personality has waned with age, and partially because I am extremely bad at most multiplayer games.

The one exception to this is Tetris.

I am a Tetris GOD.

Of course, that’s an incredible overstatement. Now that I’ve seen real Ecstasy of Order, Grandmaster-level Tetris players, I realize how mediocre I am. But in my real, actual life, I have never found anyone near my skill level. In high school, I would bring two Game Boys, two copies of Tetris, and a link cable on long bus rides to marching band competitions, hoping to find willing challengers. The Game Boys themselves became very popular. Playing me did not.

Prior to Tetris 99, the only version of the game that gave me any shred of humility in a competitive sense was Tetris DS, where Japanese players I found online routinely handed me my ass. I held my own, too, but that was the first time in my life when I wasn’t light-years beyond any opponent.

As time passed and internet gaming and culture became more accessible, I soon realized I was nowhere near the true best Tetris players in the world. Which was okay by me. I’m happy to be a big fish in a small pond, in pretty much all aspects of my life.

Tetris 99 has given me a perfectly sized pond. I feel like I’m a favorite to win every round I play, and I usually finish in the top 10 or higher. But it’s also always a challenge, because there’s just enough metagame to navigate. Have I targeted the right enemies? Do I have enough badges to make my Tetrises hit harder? Can I stay below the radar for long enough? These aspects go beyond and combine with the fundamental piece-dropping in a way I absolutely love.

The one thing I haven’t done yet is win an Invictus match (a mode reserved only for those who have won a standard 99-player match). But it’s only a matter of time.  

5. Pokemon Sword/Shield

I don’t think I’ve played a Pokemon game through to completion since the originals. I always buy them, but I always seem to lose steam halfway through. But I finished Shield over the holidays, and I had a blast doing it.

Because I’m a mostly casual Pokeplayer, the decision to not include every ‘mon in series history didn’t bother me at all. I really enjoyed learning about new Pokemon and forcing myself to try moving away from my usual standards. (Although I did still use a Gyarados in my final team.)

As a fan of English soccer, the stadium-centric, British-flavored setting also contributed to my desire to see the game through. Changing into my uniform and walking onto a huge, grassy pitch, with tens of thousands of cheering fans looking on, really did give me a different feeling than battles in past games, which always seemed to be in weird, isolated settings.

I’m not sure I’ll push too far into the postgame; I’ve never felt the need to catch ‘em all. But I had a great time with the ones I caught.

4. The Legend of Zelda: Link’s Awakening

I have a strange relationship with the Zelda series, especially now. They are my wife’s favorite games of all time. But I don’t know if I’ve ever actually sat down and beaten one since the original Link’s Awakening. Even with Breath of the Wild, which I adore, I was content to watch Aubrey do the heavy lifting. I know the series well, I’ve played bits of all of them, but most haven’t stuck with me.

Link’s Awakening has. I wrote a piece once about its existential storytelling and how it affected me as a child. I love the way the graphics in this remake preserve that dreamlike quality. It’s pretty much a re-skin of the original game, but the cutesy, toy-set aesthetic pairs well with the heavy material. If this is all a dream, whose dream is it? And when we wake up, what happens to it?

Truthfully, some of the puzzles and design decisions haven’t held up super well. Despite the fresh coat of paint, it definitely feels like a 25-year-old game. But I’m so glad this version exists.

Oh, and that solo clarinet in the Mabe Village theme? *Chef’s kiss*

3. Control

I actually haven’t seen a lot of the influences Control wears on its sleeve. I’ve never gone completely through all the episodes of the X-Files, Fringe, and Twin Peaks; I’m only vaguely familiar with the series of “creepypasta” fiction called SCP Foundation; and I have never endeavored to sit through a broadcast of Coast to Coast AM. I’m also unfamiliar with Remedy’s best-known work in the genre, Alan Wake. But I know enough about all those works to be able to identify their inspiration on the Federal Bureau of Control, Jesse Faden, and the Oldest House.

Control is an interesting game to recommend (which I do), because I’m not sure how much I really enjoyed its combat. For most of the game, it’s a pretty standard third-person shooter. You can’t snap to cover, which indicates you’re intended to stay on the move. This becomes even more obvious when you gain the ability to air dash and fly. But you do need to use cover, because Jesse doesn’t have much health even at the end of the game. So combat encounters can get out of hand quickly, and there’s little incentive to keep fighting enemies in the late game. Yet they respawn at a frustratingly frequent rate. The game’s checkpointing system compounds this — you only respawn at “control points,” which act like Souls-style bonfires. This leads to some unfortunately tedious runbacks after boss fights.

On the other hand, Jesse’s telekinesis power always feels fantastic, and varying your attacks between gunshots, thrown objects, melee, and mind controlling enemies can be frenetic fun. That all comes to a head in the game’s combat (and perhaps aesthetic?) high point, the Ashtray Maze. To say more would be doing a disservice. It’s awesome.

The rest of the gameplay is awesome, too — and I do call it “gameplay,” though unfortunately you don’t have many options for affecting the world beyond violence. The act of exploring the Oldest House and scouring it for bureaucratic case files, audio recordings, and those unbelievably creepy “Threshold Kids” videos is pure joy. The way the case files are redacted leaves just enough to the imagination, and the idea of a federal facility being built on top of and absorbed into a sort of nexus of interdimensional weirdness is perfectly executed. And what’s up with that motel? And the alien, all-seeing, vaguely sinister Board? So cool.

With such great worldbuilding, I did wish for a little more player agency. There are no real dialogue choices — no way to imbue Jesse with any character traits beyond what’s pre-written for her — and only one ending. This kind of unchecked weird science is the perfect environment for forcing the player into difficult decisions (what do we study? How far is too far? How do we keep it all secret?), and that just isn’t part of the game at all. Which is fine — Control isn’t quite an immersive sim like Prey, and it’s not trying to be. I just see some similarities and potential, and I wish they had been explored a little.

But Control’s still a fantastic experience, and in any other year, it probably would’ve been my number one pick. That’s how good these next two games are.

2. Outer Wilds

Honestly, this is the best game of 2019. But I’m not listing it as number one because I didn’t play most of it — Aubrey did. Usually we play everything together; even if we’re not passing a controller back and forth, one of us will watch while the other one plays. And that definitely happened for a large chunk of Outer Wilds. But Aubrey did make some key discoveries while I was otherwise occupied, so while I think it’s probably the best game, it’s not the one I personally spent the most time with.

The time I did spend, though? Wow. From the moment you wake up at the campfire and set off in search of your spaceship launch codes, it’s clear that this is a game that revels in discovery. Discovery for its own sake, for the furthering of knowledge, for the protection of others, for the sheer fun of it. Some games actively discourage players from asking the question, “Hey, what’s that over there?” Outer Wilds begs you to ask it, and then rewards you not with treasure or statistical growth, but with the opportunity to ask again, about something even more wondrous and significant.

There are so many memorable moments of discovery in this game. The discovery that, hey, does that sun look redder to you than it used to? The discovery that, whoa, why did I wake up where I started after seemingly dying in space? Your first trip through a black hole. Your first trip to the quantum moon. Your first trip to the weird, bigger-on-the-inside fog-filled heart of a certain dark, brambly place. (Aubrey won’t forget that any time soon.)

They take effort, those moments. They do have to be earned, and it isn’t easy. Your spaceship flies like it looks: sketchy, taped together, powered by ingenuity and, like, marshmallows, probably. Some of the leaps you have to make — both of intuition and of jetpack — are a little too far. (We weren’t too proud to look up a couple hints when we were truly stuck.) But in the tradition of the best adventure games (which is what this is, at heart), you have everything you need right from the beginning. All you have to do is gather the knowledge to understand it and put it into action.

And beyond those moments of logical and graphical discovery, there’s real emotion and pathos, too. As you explore the remnants of the lost civilization that preceded yours, your only method of communication is reading their writing. And as you do, you start to get a picture of them not just as individuals (who fight, flirt, and work together to help each other), but as a species whose boundless thirst for discovery was their greatest asset, highest priority, undoing, and salvation, all at once.

I don’t think I can say much more without delving into spoilers, or retreading ground others have covered. (Go read Austin Walker’s beautiful and insightful review for more.) It’s an incredible game, and one everyone with even a passing interest in the medium should try.

(Last thing: Yes, I manually flew to the Sun Station and got inside. No, I don’t recommend it.)

1. Fire Emblem: Three Houses

If I hadn’t just started a replay of this game, I don’t think I’d be listing it in the number one slot. I started a replay because I showed it to my brother when we visited him in Florida last month, and immediately, all the old feelings came flooding back. I needed another hit.

No game this year has been as compelling for me. That’s an overused word in entertainment criticism, but I mean it literally: There have been nights where I absolutely HAVE to keep playing (much to Aubrey’s dismay). One more week of in-game time. One more study session to raise a skill rank. One more meal together so I can recruit another student. One more battle. Just a little longer.

I’m not sure I can put my finger on the source of that compulsion. Part of it is the excellence of craftsmanship on display; if any technical or creative aspect of Three Houses was less polished than it is, I probably wouldn’t feel so drawn to it. But the two big answers, I think, are the characters and their growth, both mechanically and narratively.

At the start of the game, you pick one of the titular three houses to oversee as professor. While this choice defines who you’ll have in your starting party, that can be mitigated later, as almost every other student from the other two houses can be recruited to join yours. What you’re really choosing is which perspective you’ll see the events of the story from, and through whose eyes: Edelgard of the Black Eagles, Dimitri of the Blue Lions, or Claude of the Golden Deer. (This is also why the game almost demands at least three playthroughs.)

These three narratives are deftly written so you simultaneously feel like you made the only possible canonical choice, while also sowing questions into your decision-making. Edelgard’s furious desire for change is just but perhaps not justifiable; Dimitri hides an obsession with revenge behind a façade of noblesse oblige; Claude is more conniving and pragmatic than he lets on. No matter who you side with, you’ll eventually have to face the others. And everyone can make a case that they, not you, are on the right side.

This is especially effective because almost every character in Three Houses is dealing with a legacy of war and violence. A big theme of the game’s story is how those experiences inform and influence the actions of the victims. What steps are justified to counteract such suffering? How do you break the cycle if you can’t break the power structures that perpetuate it? How do good people end up fighting for bad causes?

While you and your child soldiers (yeah, you do kind of have to just skip over that part; they’re in their late teens, at least? Still not good enough, but could be worse?) are grappling with these questions, they’re also growing in combat strength, at your direction. This is the part that really grabbed me and my lizard brain — watching those numbers get bigger was unbelievably gratifying. Each character class has certain skill requirement prerequisites, and as professor, you get to define how your students meet those requirements, and which they focus on. Each student has certain innate skills, but they also have hidden interests that only come to the surface with guidance. A character who seems a shoo-in to serve as a white mage might secretly make an incredibly effective knight; someone who seems destined for a life as a swordsman suddenly shows a talent for black magic. You can lean into their predilections, or go against them, with almost equal efficacy.

For me, this was the best part of Three Houses, and the part that kept me up long after my wife had gone to bed. Planning a student’s final battle role takes far-seeing planning and preparation, and each step along the way felt thrilling. How can you not forge a connection with characters you’ve taken such pains to help along the way? How can you not explode with joy when they reach their goals?

That’s the real draw of Fire Emblem: Three Houses, I think: the joy of seeing people you care about grow, while simultaneously confronting those you once cared about, but who followed another path. No wonder I wanted to start another playthrough. I think I’ll be starting them all over again for a long time.

[raisingsupergirl]

You Don't Know What You Don't Know

In today's information age, everyone's an expert. Broken dishwasher? Just YouTube it. Wondering who that actor is? IMDB it. Want a DIY chicken coop? Google it. Trying to find an unending stream of #fakenews and fear mongering? Log into Facebook. The problem is, well… we don't always know what the actual problem is. We see the symptoms. We know what we want—the end result—but we're not always sure how to get there. And a quick Google search is all we have the patience for before we jump to conclusions and then blame someone or something else for our failure. Take my recent plunge into fishkeeping, for example.

I've always been an animal lover. I think it's innate in all of us, but not everyone has the right disposition or upbringing to appreciate animal/plant husbandry. As for me, I grew up in the Missouri wilderness surrounded by ponds, cliffs, streams, fields, and forests. Sure, I spent my fair share of time on the Super Nintendo System, but being in the great outdoors was engrained in me from a young age. And more than that, I learned to appreciate the other things out there. I kept just about every animal you could imagine at one time or another (dogs, cats, birds, fish, lizards, frogs, newts, rodents of all varieties, snakes, chickens, geese, goats, a squirrel, a ferret, a raccoon, and even a short-tailed opossum, off the top of my head), and though I was pretty irresponsible with most of them (ignoring for a second that I should have just left them where I found them in nature), I loved nurturing them, and I kept most of them alive. So when my city-girl daughter said she wanted a fish for her fourth birthday, a little piece of my past reignited, and I… may have gone a little overboard.

First, my mom still had the 35-gallon aquarium she bought me for my birthday a couple of decades ago. Back then I just winged it. I didn't have Google. I didn't come from a long line of aquarists. I just filled the thing up with well water, a cheap bag of gravel, a log I found floating in my pond, and the cheapest fish I could find at my local Walmart (yes, Walmart sold fish back then). Of course the tank was full of algae and dead fish in no time, but I kept at it, and eventually I had a few fish that didn't eat each other, but ultimately it wasn't what I knew it could be, so I set the fish "free" in my pond and put a snake in the tank instead.

I used the tank again in college with similar results, only this time I had a filter, did occasional water changes, and had just a few friendly fish, so it was much more successful, though still very "low tech," as they say in the hobby. Since then, I've matured (please hold all sarcasm until the end), and I've learned the value of researching something before attempting it. The change started in physical therapy school when I spent countless hours dissecting and writing scientific papers. It was the literal worst, but it taught me so much about the world. Rather, it taught me how to learn about any particular aspect of the world. You see, in these classes, we weren't allowed to just read the abstract and regurgitate the experimenters' assumptions. We had to read every line, go back and read every line of the sources they cited, and then, once we understood every word, we could start forming our own opinions on the subject. And believe it or not, I rarely found a paper that wasn't skewed toward the writer's desired result in some small way.

So now we get to the heart of things—you don't know what you don't know until you know it. And you won't know it unless you put in the time. We're living in an age of instant gratification. Because there's so much information out there, we only have time to skim. Otherwise we wouldn't have any time to actually live. I recently ran across an inspiration quote by science fiction author Robert Heinlein's character, Lazarus Long:

"A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly. Specialization is for insects."

Sure. Easy for Lazarus to say. As his name suggests, he was over 200 years old and counting at the time of his above quotation (and that's to say nothing of Heinlein's, uh, colorful political and philosophical views). But even still, his words are a nice sentiment, and they resonate with our current zeitgeist. We all want to be experts at everything, but we just don't have the time to do it. So we become Jacks-of-all-trades, and masters of none. And thus, with the dehumanizing help of social media, we get into a lot of stupid fights.

But I digress. Back to my aquarium example. Giving in to my excitement and desire for my daughter to experience thy "joys" of fishkeeping, I reverted to the impulsiveness of my youth. And of the twelve fish I bought those first few months, I killed half of them. Why? Because I didn't take the time to learn about taking a new tank through the nitrogen cycle. I knew nothing of ammonium, nitrite, or nitrate. I didn't know how to promote bacterial colonies in the filter media. And when I decided to add a few live plants to the mix, I didn't know the difference between submersed and submerged, or that PetCo didn't care about selling you "aquatic" plants that would die 100% of the time if completely under water. And that's saying nothing about water pH, alkalinity, fertilizers (NPK, micronutrients, root tabs versus liquid fertilizers, etc), carbon (CO2) availability, substrate differences, etc., etc. I just thought, "these are pretty" with dozens of plants and fish from completely different, delicately balanced ecosystems around the world, and then expected them to flourish when crammed together in the petri dish that was my, er, my daughter's aquarium.

I'll be the first to say that I suck at chemistry. It was the only "C" I received in college. Too many dry facts and things I couldn't visualize. Too much like math. But over the past few months, I've forced myself to dig into the periodic table and the chemical processes of dozens of elements and compounds in order to BEGIN understanding the aquatic world. I'm still so far away from having a solid grasp on the process, but at least I now know what I don't know. And that's a start. And it's a valuable reminder of the ignorance of mankind.

As a physical therapist, it often baffles me when my highly intelligent friends and family don't understand their own bodies. These people are experts in their fields. They're fluent in areas that I'll never even begin to understand. And yet, they can't figure out the simplest causes of their own various aches and pains. And thus, they become easy prey for fad diets, snake oils, and cure-alls. In health and fitness, especially, our connected, opinion-fueled society is playing the willing victim. Like politics and philosophy, we all know there are problems, and we see "experts" offering their solutions constantly, and social media algorithms are feeding into this problem by inundating our news feeds with like-minded (no matter how wrong) individuals. We think, "Hey, everything I see reinforces my ideas, so the must be right!" But really, we're still living in the same high-walled isolation we've always lived in. We just have weapons that can shoot farther now.

So remember, if you haven't spent hundreds of hours researching and forming your opinion, you're probably not right. Maybe you have an idea. It may even be a good idea. But life is complex. It spans millennia of philosophers, scientists, and soldiers. Even if WebMD says you have terminal cancer, you should still probably see an actual MD before you throw in the towel. Because, contrary to Lazarus Long's inspiring sentiment, humanity can still find value in specialization. Life is rich and deep, so take the time to dig.

[trajangilson]

Aquascaping as a Career

A Q&A Interview with an Expert of His Craft

The hobby in some cases can turn into a lifestyle when it is mastered. Aquascaping is defined by the craft of arranging aquatic plants, as well as rocks, stones, cavework, or driftwood, in an aesthetically pleasing manner within an aquarium—in effect, gardening under water.

Although it is hard to tell when someone has mastered their passion. Some people like to go fishing, others play golf, but for his story Spencer Johndro began his aqua scaping career at a young age. Little did he know it would become his life passion and his career. For 31 years Spencer Johndro has grown up locally in the Peabody and Danvers area.

For many people a small fishbowl is enough with fake plants and a lonely fish swimming circles or huddling underneath its plastic canopy. Spencer Johndro has surpassed this childish mindset and has transcended his time into curating and creating unique pieces of art through aquascaping. Petco was Spencer’s earlier jobs, and he has not looked back yet. From being a teenager to an adult he has worked with Petco and even gained management status for his local store. Johndro finds himself always second guessing his options when it comes to creating an effective eco-system with many diversities in plants and other natural life within the scape.

What got you into aquariums?

Well, my love for aquariums really grew at a younger age when I got a betta fish for my 6th birthday. I got a blue betta fish and a two gallon bowl and I named it Sun and it was the only pet I had at the time and Sun lived for five years, it was incredible. I was devastated when he died, but it turns out that five years is a healthy life for a betta fish.

How long have you worked at Petco?

I got my job at Petco when I was 16, I grew up locally and managed to work up the chain at Petco and now I look over all of the store not only the aquarium section. But I find myself to most proud of our aquarium section and the tools and resources we offer to the customers of the store.

What kinds of aquarium products sell well at Petco?

In terms of fish that I see going out of the store often are goldfish and betta Fish, and I find that to be because they are freshwater fish that can live in isolation well and are great starter fish for beginners.

Is working at Petco something that you think you would’ve found yourself at anyways?

Yeah, working here at Petco I wasn’t expecting this to be my long term career and I wanted to go to college and get a secondary education, but I think I fell out of love for learning at school and decided to remain at Petco and work diligently at something I loved and enjoyed. I love my co-workers and the stores many cute and adorable pets we have a well as some of the “cute-ugly” ones.

So, speaking a little bit more into the aquarium, ecosystem or aqua scape that you are building what do you find or believe to be the most important part of that ecosystem?

Well first off, the most important part I believe for beginners is to not overcrowd your tank. Ecosystems are very fragile in the wild and even more so at home in an aquarium. So, in order to have the proper ratio of free space to organisms is important. And it is also important to have a little bit of diversity in the fish you have in your tank. If you are going to have a larger fish that is messy and causes a lot of waste it’s also important to balance that with some cat-fish types that act as filter feeders and help clean the tank. Another important thing to understand is to the filters you need. You know, some tanks and it doesn’t matter if they are fresh water or salt water you can have plants that can take in the nitrogen from the fish and clean and filter. But if you don’t have some of these plants or organisms it is important to have the best aquatic filtration system in order to keep these eco-systems clean and healthy.

In your experience in designing and building these ecosystems what goes through your head in the design process?

Well step 1 right away is to identify the theme. For example one time when I was younger I had a SpongeBob themed fresh water tank and that was a challenge because SpongeBob takes place in the ocean and mine was all freshwater, but you know I bought the Squidward house and the pineapple under the sea and these sorts of things add to the visual aesthetic of the tank but they are also important to the fish because they have locations of protection and to keep the fish calm and relaxed it is important to have rocks and other places to use as cover. And so, by identifying a theme it can help guide us to the towards of elements we want to add into the aquarium.

Have you worked with any sort of eco-system styles, like creating an Amazon rainforest or an Asian river or something that has a geographical realism?

Well at home I generally do not have those styles but here that the Petco we have a few of those sorts of things to show off to the customers. So , you know those South American themes or Asian themes is like taking a small snapshot from the fish’s native ecosystem and best as you can transfer it to the aquarium setting. I feel the more affective you are at that the more relaxed aquarium you can have as well as a much healthier one too.

Do you have any projects you are working on, and how has that been going?

Well, I like big aquariums. And my most recent project has been a 75-gallon saltwater extravaganza one would say. And speaking back to that question of a themed eco-system I am trying to have a Finding Nemo themed aquarium and since the movie takes place off the coast of Australia and in order to best exemplify, I am learning a lot about the great barrier reef and eco-systems just off the coast. It is an extremely diverse environment that doesn’t get a lot of credit but, you know, I got some staple fish who are key to the scape. So, recently I have gotten some “live-sand” for this aquarium and let me explain the difference between live and dead sand. In live sand there are lots of microbes living within it allowing for plant growth and smaller natural processes to happen. And of course, the living organism, the clownfish, starfish, and other smaller organisms that I want to incorporate into my ecosystem will be healthier and ultimately the health of the fish is the upmost important part to me. I hate it at the store when a kid comes in an gets a goldfish and two weeks later, they are coming back in for another as they have killed the goddamn thing. So, in my tanks I try to create a healthy and thriving ecosystem to the best of my ability.

Do you find there are things you still want to improve on in making aquascapes?

That’s a great question, you know I’m always trying to improve on my balancing and creating scientifically accurate eco-systems with also embracing the creative side that aqua-scaping has to offer. And, you know, it doesn’t get enough credit for being a super creative outlet for people. It’s a lot like an art form and I want to be able to balance the art with the science the best that I can. That has been tough for me right now and I think I can improve on that by taking a step back and take a better look at the larger picture of my aquascapes rather than the small nitty-gritty details; it’s the balance I need to work on…

[mokkoriness]

GRIMOIRE Interview - SEVEN Vol.42

We ask them about "Uranometria" that was released last year on December 13th. First of all, what does the meaning of the title of the lead song "Uranometria" mean?

It is a Latin word derived from Greek, and has the meaning of "star atlas".

It has been about one and a half months since the release, but how have the reactions from the listeners been?

It's as we hoped it would be, or rather, it was how we expected it to be. It's like we were right on the mark thinking things like "It seems like all songs on the CD will be popular", or that we would get this kind of reaction.

This song leaves an impression, such as with the intro of the song, where we can sort of imagine what image the lyrics will paint, but were there any points you focused on, or arrangements, themes, or phrases that you were particular about during production?

RyNK: We mixed the mermaid and me together.

Kie: The feeling of Japanese music. We also placed emphasis on the arrangement to make one recall the movements of waves, flowing from right to left and left to right and becoming intertwined.

Amu: The title and release date. As we reduced distortion, we built up a variety of sounds and arranged it so people could hear the chords, also the interaction between the left and right channels of the guitars in the pre-chorus and bridge.

Lune: I kept in mind to not use the habits that I usually add to the arrangements.

Mel: What I put emphasis on was to not have noisy drums, and to have beats and phrases that were even more aware of the fact that there would be singing on top of it.

The Castor version includes the music video for "Uranometria". Please tell us the highlight of the music video, scenes that you were particular about, or any behind stories of filming or something you had trouble with.

RyNK: My clothes were fluttery.

Kie: The outfits were completed on the day of the movie filming. I was nervous.

Amu: The hand drawn sparkling effect when the song title comes up and the tearing up scene after the bridge.

Lune: Actually, we used a little bit of a gimmick to show the water.

Mel: I'm using an important drum set so I want people to look at it. Among the simple drum setting, I think another highlight is the cymbal that stands out in the back.

So the coupling song "Suisou no Umi" that is included on both the Castor version and Pollux version. Please tell us the theme or any stories from production, or things you were particular about with this song.

RyNK: I tried a little hard on the last part.

Kie: There was no place to put in a guitar solo, so I spent a whole day trying to put one in. When you look at your world, which you thought was the ocean (everything), from the side it's just an insignificant fish tank, and all it was was you being forced to swim there... I put the emotions I felt from that into the guitar solo.

Amu: I wanted to make it so that people could feel the story just from listening to the orchestral parts in the part from the intro to the twin leader guitar solo.

Lune: Since it was a song that we all made imagining playing it at a large venue, it became a song that is very nice to play live.

Mel: The difference between the quiet parts before the band comes in and the explosiveness after the band comes in.

About the coupling song "Hello & Goodbye" that is on the Pollux version. Please tell us the theme or any stories from production, or things you were particular about with this song.

RyNK: I worked hard at articulation.

Kie: The bridge after the break down. It's tension and relaxation!

Amu: The verse repeats many times, and because the guitars on the left and right channel are always the same, we changed the arrangement so that the delayed guitar phrases in the background match with the drums.

Lune: We were able to express the feeling of GRIMOIRE with the toy-like sounds in the intro and the sound of the metronome we purposely put in. We all listened to each and every tone, so they are refined.

Mel: With the phrase in the verses, I play something different the first and second time, and they are phrases that express this toy-like feeling.

A special show "Yurumoa-chan" will take place on February 9th at Shinjuku RUIDO K4. It will be a solo show with a completely different relaxed atmosphere from normal, and the setlist will be comprised of the 12 most voted for songs. What kind of show will it be? Also, are the votes what you expected? Were there any unexpected songs?

RyNK: It will be unleashed.

Kie: I can't imagine it. I hope it becomes a live that will be a comfortable time for the people who come.

Amu: I haven't seen the votes yet.

Lune: I wonder where "Mime Mime" is ranked... I'm a bit anxious about the space in between songs, but I would like to take on this challenge with a feeling of it being something new.

Mel: As it's a different feeling from usual I am a bit worried, but I think it would be nice if we could show another side of us. It would be nice if everyone could hear their favourite songs.

And about RynK's birthday solo show "Birthday Party" that will be held on April 22nd at Aoyama Tsuki Miru Kimi Omou. Although there is still quite some time until the show, but are there any things you have planned or things to look forward to?

As it's the first time to hold a birthday event, we want to make it a live with a special feeling. It would be amazing if not just RyNK himself, but also the fans got warm feelings from the show.

What is it that GRIMOIRE pays attention to at lives, or wants to show?

RyNK: I would be glad if they looked at the thing in the middle.

Kie: Entertainment.

Amu: Today only exists today. To let everything out. Whether it moves people's emotions or not.

Lune: It would be to enjoy it. If we ourselves weren't enjoying it, then the audience also wouldn't enjoy it, right? That they are at the venue means that they pushed aside other things and paid money to come and see us, so anyhow, I want to make it enjoyable.

Mel: The atmosphere, the dynamics and the story composition and development of the setlist. And to always enjoy it.

Please tell use a song you recommend and choreography for the people who will see GRIMOIRE live for the first time.

RyNK: "Seitan Devil". The "Eyeball" part.

Kie: "Gensou Syndrome". When you go from jumping, to raising your hands in the air and then small headbangs.

Amu: "Suisou no Umi". Without worrying about difficult things, I want them to feel our "stillness" and "motion".

Lune: "Boku to Tulpa". The clapping during the verses. Or what the wolf calls "The sheep dance".

Mel: "Nejire Inside". Where you cover your eyes to match with the lyrics in the verse.

Are there any fads or common hobbies shared with the members right now?

RyNK: None.

Kie: I don't think so?

Amu: Nothing in particular.

Lune: None!

Mel: Nothing in particular, but when we go on tour we go and eat hamburgers together.

February 3rd is the traditional last day of Winter. Are there any demons inside you that you would like to chase out?

RyNK: The one in my heart.

Kie: The troublesome one. I'm going to start eating breakfast now.

Amu: The extreme one. I won't think of things in extremes.

Lune: The isolating one. I will make more friends.

Mel: The forgetful one. I'll make a checklist of things to bring on tour.

It's almost Valentine's Day. Please tell us one sweet memory and one bitter memory from then.

RyNK: They came all the way to my place to give me chocolate. When I asked for chocolate and they said "No way".

Kie: Please let me keep them to myself.

Amu: None in particular.

Lune: When I got chocolate from a girl in another class who I had no contact with. That made me happy.

Mel: Being able to eat lots of delicious chocolate. Eating too much chocolate.

Please give a message to the SEVEN readers.

RyNK: It's cold so stay warm.

Kie: See you.

Amu: I hope we can see you somewhere.

Lune: This year GRIMOIRE may go to see you at places we've never been before. Wait for us.

Mel: We will be a band that will being you lots of wonderful songs and lives this year too and make you think that you're glad to be a GRIMOIRE fan. This year we're going to see you much, much more so wait for us.

[narelleart]

The importance of quarantining new fish.

There are a couple of ways that aquarists use quarantine tanks - you may be familiar with quarantine tanks as a way to separate and individually treat sick fish from the main display. But are you quarantining your incoming fish? Here’s why you most definitely should be.

Quarantine, in this respect, refers to isolating new fish in a clean, separate tank to monitor and treat any diseases they may be carrying from their previous tank.

Sales tanks are rife with disease. Fish come from all different sources and get dumped together, both at the distributor and the LFS, usually without any quarantine or major decontamination. So any disease from across the world that these fish might have been exposed to, they share with every other fish for sale. Fish in sales tanks and in shipment undergo a lot of stress, so they are more likely to be infected when exposed to these diseases, meaning more likely to carry them along with them when you bring the fish home to your personal tanks. The aquarium hobby is not only a trade of fish from across the world, but the diseases that come with them as well.

Because of this, it is exceptionally important that we take extra care with all new incoming fish to prevent the spread of disease to our existing stock. If you dump all new fish straight in with your old stock, you increase the likelihood that your entire tank gets infected with whatever your new fish was carrying. Your entire tank, new and old fish, could be wiped out by a hardy strain of illness.

Not to mention, trying to treat the whole main tank afterwards for otherwise preventable disease creates more hassle and problems. Different medications react differently - some will stain your silicone, some are unsafe for invertebrates, some are unsafe for plants, and some will devastate your nitrifying bacteria colony, crashing your cycle. If you introduce disease to your main display, you generally end up having to nuke the whole thing with chemicals and treatments to completely eradicate the disease.

Setting up a new, temporary tank every time you want new fish is a huge hassle, but is it worth avoiding that hassle if you skip it and end up infecting your entire tank? I don’t think so, so I very strongly believe that quarantine is an essential part of fish keeping for every aquarist.

(Yes, a solitary fish only infects its own tank - but you still have to dose potentially harsh chemicals to your main system, which can threaten your nitifying bacteria and any live plants you may have, and may mean using more of often quite expensive medications to treat what may be a larger volume of water. So whenever possible, I would still quarantine fish that are going into a fresh new tank all to themselves.)

There’s not really a set way to quarantine fish - everyone does this a little differently. So this is how I quarantine.

A quarantine tank should ideally be no less than the fish’s minimum tank size. It is important to maintain good water quality in your QT tank, so using undersized tanks and otherwise inappropriate housing conditions will do more harm than good. The only thing I would be willing to fudge on a little in my QT tank is room to move (to a reasonable degree - they still need to move, but I like to give my fish a lot more space than the minimum in their permanent homes, that they don’t necessarily need as much in QT), especially if I’m quarantining juvenile fish, but only so long as water quality is still superb. (This is technically a little risky, though - you never know what might happen to keep your fish in QT longer than planned. So make sure you are putting them in something you are comfortable housing them in long term, it just doesn’t have to be as generous as you might normally be in providing beyond the minimum.)

I keep my QT tanks fairly bare, as sparsely decorated as I can manage without stressing out the fish, to make it easier to observe them for signs of disease. I only use inert decorations that can easily be sterilized (usually just bleach) between uses. For me this usually means cheap plastic plants, PVC joints, and broken pieces of slate stacked to form caves.

I quarantine my fish for a minimum 2 - 4 weeks, depending on the species of fish (known to carry a lot of diseases or not) and the source (wild caught fish or those coming out of tanks more likely to be infected need more attention). When you quarantine, you’re pretty much just watching for signs of disease, or treating prophylactically, depending on your views on that and/or the source of the fish. (I generally don’t treat for disease I don’t see evidence of, except in fish coming from somewhere that I know to carry a certain disease or for wild caught fish.) If you do see signs of disease, your QT period could extend considerably further depending on how long it takes to treat the fish. I like to continue my QT for at least another week or two after I think I’ve eradicated the disease to make sure my fish are definitely healthy.

Not quarantining your fish is a ticking time bomb on your fish keeping career. Its not a question of if you’ll introduce an unhealthy fish, but when you do. Rather than gambling with your fishes’ lives and health, hoping that you don’t introduce disease or that you can safely treat and recover when it occurs - why not take an extra step to keep things safer?

[When you add fish to quarantine, or move them to their new home when QT is finished, make sure you drip acclimate! Read more on that here.]

[waterworldcraze]

Can I Keep Just One Angelfish? Do They Get Lonely?

Loneliness seems terrible for us humans and it has been observed in a wide variety of mammals. But what about fishes – especially angelfish? Do they enjoy solitude or do they get lonely? Can one keep a singular angelfish in a tank?

To answer the question of loneliness, we are yet to explore if fishes ever get lonely or not since loneliness can be a human concept, which might not be relevant for fishes. Getting to the next part of the question, angelfish can be kept singularly in a tank given that you get all their habitat conditions right.

But it sparks off another set of interesting questions. What exactly can be solitude for an angelfish? Let us explore all the other factors of the presented question and understand it more.

Breeding A Singular Angelfish In A Tank

Most of the angelfish that we get from breeders are freshwater angelfish. The other variety of angelfish is tropical ones, which can thrive in saltwater. All the others are a variant from each of the two categories. There are not many differences in their behavior.

The only difference in their behavior comes from where have you procured your fish – is it from the wild or from a breeder? It is speculated that an angelfish in the wild might be less or not at all prone to said ‘loneliness’ than an angelfish in captivity.

Although angelfishes are said to be a community fish, they can very much thrive on their own. A lot of their behavior also depends on how they started off their journey in the tank.

Were they alone in the tank at first and has always been alone? Then they can thrive in a healthy way. If not, they can behave a little differently when left alone by various circumstances that we will explore further.

Companionship And Isolation After One’s Death

The idea of loneliness can be further aggravated with a loss of companionship. If an angelfish can thrive in solitude, without prior companionship, then what would isolation do to it after they have a companion and it dies?

Although these two situations will keep them alone or in isolation, the process itself defines the idea of loneliness for them.

When bred in pairs and in captivity, they might start searching for their partner or might search for another mate in case a tank has a group of angelfishes. You can observe this same behavior in angelfishes in the wild.

But there is a third situation as well – what if an angelfish is kept in total isolation after having some experience of companionship.

For example, what if they are transferred to another tank away from other fishes? It is observed that the isolated angelfish might start behaving differently than the angelfish that already was in solitude from the beginning.

However, if you are in a situation where your angelfish had a companion and it has died, you should be careful while getting them a new partner. Angelfish are not desperate for companionship even though they are labeled as a community fish.

If they like their new mate, then it is a happy story. Else, it can be another season of the bachelorette or bachelor – angelfish version.

Loneliness With Respect To Not Having Their Own Kind In The Tank

There can be another aspect of loneliness – not having your own kind to interact with. Since angelfishes can thrive with a selected number of other kinds of fishes, it gets a little easier to keep them together.

They might have ‘friends’ but not any ‘mate’. Does it make any difference? Does it make them feel lonely?

Now, here is the game-changing thought – adaptability. It is almost impossible to understand if fishes have certain emotions or not. Pitting this idea against different situations would need wide research on fishes, which is not currently available.

But there is one idea that can actually give us some hints – adaptability.

Angelfishes, be it in solitude in the wild or in captivity, will try to learn how to adapt in their new territory or changed situations.

Even when they have had the experience of companionship in the past and are suddenly kept in a situation where they have to be isolated, they will try to adapt.

Stress – Loneliness In Disguise For Angelfishes

Here is one thing about adaptability, it doesn’t happen overnight and comes with some amount of stress. Whenever there is a change in environment or situation, adaptability will come with some amount of stress, as one doesn’t want to leave their comfort zone.

This is the same thing that happens with angelfish kept in isolation after having prior experience of companionship.

So what you might be looking at can be the signs of stress more than the signs of loneliness. The thing you should focus on is to make their environment stress-free by taking into consideration their water filtration, temperature, toys, and other decoration you put up in tank.

They are not schooling fish that need companionship to thrive. But if you think that they will enjoy some company of other fishes, be it their kind or another, add them and observe.

Best Tank Mates For Angelfish

Angelfish looks graceful and pretty in a tank. They are a little high maintenance as well. But they are also very aggressive, territorial, and have a carnivorous diet.

This means that they can quite happily create a gore scene if you introduce smaller, harmless fishes to the tank. Also, their mating rituals are aggressive as well. They are named angelfish based on their appearance, not their nature.

Hence, it is important for you to introduce and breed fishes that will be able to tolerate their bossy and aggressive behavior. You wouldn’t want dead fishes floating on the top of your tank due to their aquatic fights.

Here is a recommended list of mates.

Tetras – Black skirt, blind cave, serape, silvertip, and bleeding hearts are the best variants of tetras that are compatible with angelfish. While cardinal and neon are also compatible with angelfish, they can be easily eaten by them so avoid adding them to the tank.

Loaches – Kuhli loaches and other loaches with elephant nose or snake loaches are compatible with angelfish.

Danios, Rasboras, and Silver Dollar fish – All the three are schooling fish and would swim alongside angelfish in harmony. Their temper is not aggressive, but there are always exceptions in every case. Keep in mind that the variant you choose shouldn’t be smaller than the angelfish you have.

Catfish – Corydoras, Synodontis and Plecostomus are quite compatible with angelfish.

Although Gourami is also often recommended in a list like this, many pet parents have pointed out that their compatibility doesn’t work out very well. They both are territorial and can get really aggressive.

In other cases, angelfish might be able to swim peacefully alongside a different breed but may eat off their fry. This can be true for fishes such as mollies, swordtails and platys.

Freshwater angelfishes are cichlids and can thrive with other hybrids of cichlids such as blood parrotfish. You can also add discus to the tank but they are more prone to diseases and need more care.

The last piece of advice we will give you is that every fish has a personality and has its own equation with other fellow tank mates. Keep a watchful eye during their interactions and observe if they all are living in harmony.

This list is not a definitive list for compatibility and there can always be exceptions to the case.

[jesseneufeld]

Dear Mark: Antibiotic Recovery, Sprinting on Keto, Preparing for Bad Sleep

For today’s edition of Dear Mark, I’m answering three questions. First up, what can a person do to help their gut recover its barrier function after too many antibiotics? Are there any foods, supplements, or dietary strategies? Second, what can explain rapid fatigue during sprint sessions on a keto diet? Is this simply part of the deal, or are there modifications you can make? And finally, what do I do when I know I’m going to get a bad night’s sleep?

Let’s go:

Mark – any idea how to cure leaky gut caused by overuse of antibiotics. Tried raw dairy for a month to no avail.

First of all, check out my post on leaky gut. Read through it and follow my suggestions for preventing and treating intestinal permeability. It’s a great place to start.

Then, let’s look at some other interventions that have been shown to improve recovery from antibiotic therapy. While most of the studies referenced don’t explicitly describe antibiotic-induced leaky gut, anything that improves gut function and restores healthy gut bacteria will also normalize leaky gut—since it’s the eradication of native gut bacteria that causes antibiotic-induced leaky gut.

Fermented dairy. You tried raw dairy. What about fermented dairy? While raw dairy has its merits, it’s fermented dairy that just works for recovery from antibiotics. Yogurt is a good option to try, although the evidence is a bit inconsistent. Kefir is probably better; it’s been shown to improve patients’ tolerance to triple antibiotic therapy during treatment for H. pylori infection. This is even worth consuming during antibiotic therapy, as many of the probiotic bacteria found in fermented dairy show resistance to common antibiotics.

Fermented vegetables like sauerkraut are also must-eats. The fermented cabbage contains ample amounts of L. plantarum, a bacteria strain that’s been shown to prevent antibiotic-related diarrhea in piglets (another omnivorous mammal). Good options exist in stores (check the refrigerated section; shelf-stable pickles and kraut aren’t lactofermented), and even more are available in farmer’s markets, but the best way to get the most bacteria-rich vegetable ferments is to make your own.

Supplemental probiotics are fantastic here, too: large doses of the desired microorganisms delivered directly to your gut. Some of the strains used in Primal Probiotics, like B. clausii and S. boulardii, have been shown to be effective against antibiotic-related diarrhea, so that could be a good choice.

Don’t forget the food for your gut bugs: prebiotics. You need to eat fermentable fibers and other prebiotics like resistant starch to support the growth and maintenance of the helpful bacteria that improve gut barrier function. Consider eating cooked and cooled potatoes, unheated potato starch, leeks, garlic, onions, green bananas, apples, pears, berries, and pretty much any fruit or vegetable you can get your hands on. Plenty of them are low-carb enough to work on a keto diet, if that’s your desire. Oh, and dark chocolate is a great source of fiber and polyphenols, which have prebiotic effects in the gut.

Incorporate intermittent fasting. Going without food for a spell gives your gut a break and induces autophagy, which can help with tissue healing.

Get dirty, too, to introduce potentially helpful bacteria. Go out and garden. Go barefoot at the park (do your due/doo diligence, of course) and practice tumbling, or roughhouse with your kids (or friends). Don’t immediately rush to wash your hands all the time (unless you’ve been handling raw meat and/or dog poop).

Whatever you do, don’t stress too much about the antibiotics you had to take. Stress is awful for gut health and you’ve already taken the antibiotics—which were probably necessary—so that ship has sailed.

If probiotics with prebiotics aren’t helping (or making things worse), you might want to try going the opposite direction—removing all plant foods and doing a carnivore diet for a few weeks. While I have doubts about the long term viability and safety of eschewing all plant foods, enough people have written to me about their great experiences resolving gut issues with a bout of carnivory that it’s worth trying.

When on a strict keto plan, why do I become so quickly fatigued while attempting a HIT sprint workout?

The first five seconds of a sprint are primarily powered by phosphocreatine (or creatine phosphate), a “quick burst” energy source that burns hot but disappears quickly. This is the stuff used to perform max effort Olympic lifts, short sprints, and other rapid expressions of maximum power. It doesn’t last very long and takes a couple minutes to replenish itself. A keto diet doesn’t affect our creatine phosphate levels. If anything, it should improve them if we’re eating meat.

After five seconds, anaerobic metabolism of muscle glycogen provides the lion’s share of your energy needs. The longer your sprint, the more glycogen you’ll burn. The less glycogen you carry in your muscles, the shorter your sprint. Because once you run out of creatine phosphate and glycogen, you’re left with aerobic metabolism—great for longer distances, not so great for max effort sprints.

Keto dieters tend to walk around with less glycogen in their muscles. If that’s the case, longer sprints will be harder.

If you want to keep sprinting:

Do shorter sprints. Try a 10-second hill sprint rather than a 20-second one. Really go hard. Heck, you can even do 5-second sprints and derive major benefits; just do more of them and make sure to recover in between. There’s no rule saying you have to sprint for 20-30 seconds.

Take longer rest periods. Give your muscles a chance to replenish more creatine phosphate (and take creatine or eat red meat and fish, which are the best sources of dietary creatine).

Eat 20-30 grams of carbs 30 minutes before a sprint session. See if it helps. Alternatively, you can eat the 20-30 grams of carbs after the sprint session to replenish lost glycogen stores (without really impacting your ketone adaptation, by the way).

Most people figure out their sprinting sweet spot while doing keto. They may have to play around with the dosages, durations, and rest periods, but you can usually make it work. Be open to trying new permutations.

If you knew you were going to have a poor nights sleep, what measures would you take to reduce some of the damage?

I would exercise hard that night. Normally, a bad night’s sleep tanks your insulin sensitivity the next day, giving you the insulin resistance and glucose tolerance of a diabetic. A good hard interval session the night before a bad night’s sleep, however, counters the next-day insulin resistance.

I would make the most of it. Don’t dawdle. Don’t beat yourself up because of the impending sleep deprivation. It’s going to happen. You have to accept it, not let it destroy you.

Enjoy it. A little-known acute treatment for depression is sleep deprivation. That’s right: a single night of sleep deprivation has been shown to ameliorate depression in patients with clinical depression. Sometimes the effect lasts up to several weeks. It’s not a long term or sustainable fix for clinical depression, obviously, and you can’t do it every single night—chronic sleep deprivation is a major risk factor for developing depression—but it can improve your mood if you give in to it.

I would set out a jar of cassia cinnamon. I always add cassia cinnamon to my coffee in the morning after bad sleep; cassia cinnamon the day after a bad night’s sleep attenuates the loss of insulin sensitivity and glucose tolerance.

That’s it for today, folks. Thanks for writing in and reading! If you have any input on today’s round of questions, let me know down below.

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References:

De vrese M, Kristen H, Rautenberg P, Laue C, Schrezenmeir J. Probiotic lactobacilli and bifidobacteria in a fermented milk product with added fruit preparation reduce antibiotic associated diarrhea and Helicobacter pylori activity. J Dairy Res. 2011;78(4):396-403.

Bekar O, Yilmaz Y, Gulten M. Kefir improves the efficacy and tolerability of triple therapy in eradicating Helicobacter pylori. J Med Food. 2011;14(4):344-7.

Erginkaya Z, Turhan EU, Tatl? D. Determination of antibiotic resistance of lactic acid bacteria isolated from traditional Turkish fermented dairy products. Iran J Vet Res. 2018;19(1):53-56.

Yang KM, Jiang ZY, Zheng CT, Wang L, Yang XF. Effect of Lactobacillus plantarum on diarrhea and intestinal barrier function of young piglets challenged with enterotoxigenic Escherichia coli K88. J Anim Sci. 2014;92(4):1496-503.

Jitomir J, Willoughby DS. Cassia cinnamon for the attenuation of glucose intolerance and insulin resistance resulting from sleep loss. J Med Food. 2009;12(3):467-72.

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[lauramalchowblog]

Dear Mark: Antibiotic Recovery, Sprinting on Keto, Preparing for Bad Sleep

For today’s edition of Dear Mark, I’m answering three questions. First up, what can a person do to help their gut recover its barrier function after too many antibiotics? Are there any foods, supplements, or dietary strategies? Second, what can explain rapid fatigue during sprint sessions on a keto diet? Is this simply part of the deal, or are there modifications you can make? And finally, what do I do when I know I’m going to get a bad night’s sleep?

Let’s go:

Mark – any idea how to cure leaky gut caused by overuse of antibiotics. Tried raw dairy for a month to no avail.

First of all, check out my post on leaky gut. Read through it and follow my suggestions for preventing and treating intestinal permeability. It’s a great place to start.

Then, let’s look at some other interventions that have been shown to improve recovery from antibiotic therapy. While most of the studies referenced don’t explicitly describe antibiotic-induced leaky gut, anything that improves gut function and restores healthy gut bacteria will also normalize leaky gut—since it’s the eradication of native gut bacteria that causes antibiotic-induced leaky gut.

Fermented dairy. You tried raw dairy. What about fermented dairy? While raw dairy has its merits, it’s fermented dairy that just works for recovery from antibiotics. Yogurt is a good option to try, although the evidence is a bit inconsistent. Kefir is probably better; it’s been shown to improve patients’ tolerance to triple antibiotic therapy during treatment for H. pylori infection. This is even worth consuming during antibiotic therapy, as many of the probiotic bacteria found in fermented dairy show resistance to common antibiotics.

Fermented vegetables like sauerkraut are also must-eats. The fermented cabbage contains ample amounts of L. plantarum, a bacteria strain that’s been shown to prevent antibiotic-related diarrhea in piglets (another omnivorous mammal). Good options exist in stores (check the refrigerated section; shelf-stable pickles and kraut aren’t lactofermented), and even more are available in farmer’s markets, but the best way to get the most bacteria-rich vegetable ferments is to make your own.

Supplemental probiotics are fantastic here, too: large doses of the desired microorganisms delivered directly to your gut. Some of the strains used in Primal Probiotics, like B. clausii and S. boulardii, have been shown to be effective against antibiotic-related diarrhea, so that could be a good choice.

Don’t forget the food for your gut bugs: prebiotics. You need to eat fermentable fibers and other prebiotics like resistant starch to support the growth and maintenance of the helpful bacteria that improve gut barrier function. Consider eating cooked and cooled potatoes, unheated potato starch, leeks, garlic, onions, green bananas, apples, pears, berries, and pretty much any fruit or vegetable you can get your hands on. Plenty of them are low-carb enough to work on a keto diet, if that’s your desire. Oh, and dark chocolate is a great source of fiber and polyphenols, which have prebiotic effects in the gut.

Incorporate intermittent fasting. Going without food for a spell gives your gut a break and induces autophagy, which can help with tissue healing.

Get dirty, too, to introduce potentially helpful bacteria. Go out and garden. Go barefoot at the park (do your due/doo diligence, of course) and practice tumbling, or roughhouse with your kids (or friends). Don’t immediately rush to wash your hands all the time (unless you’ve been handling raw meat and/or dog poop).

Whatever you do, don’t stress too much about the antibiotics you had to take. Stress is awful for gut health and you’ve already taken the antibiotics—which were probably necessary—so that ship has sailed.

If probiotics with prebiotics aren’t helping (or making things worse), you might want to try going the opposite direction—removing all plant foods and doing a carnivore diet for a few weeks. While I have doubts about the long term viability and safety of eschewing all plant foods, enough people have written to me about their great experiences resolving gut issues with a bout of carnivory that it’s worth trying.

When on a strict keto plan, why do I become so quickly fatigued while attempting a HIT sprint workout?

The first five seconds of a sprint are primarily powered by phosphocreatine (or creatine phosphate), a “quick burst” energy source that burns hot but disappears quickly. This is the stuff used to perform max effort Olympic lifts, short sprints, and other rapid expressions of maximum power. It doesn’t last very long and takes a couple minutes to replenish itself. A keto diet doesn’t affect our creatine phosphate levels. If anything, it should improve them if we’re eating meat.

After five seconds, anaerobic metabolism of muscle glycogen provides the lion’s share of your energy needs. The longer your sprint, the more glycogen you’ll burn. The less glycogen you carry in your muscles, the shorter your sprint. Because once you run out of creatine phosphate and glycogen, you’re left with aerobic metabolism—great for longer distances, not so great for max effort sprints.

Keto dieters tend to walk around with less glycogen in their muscles. If that’s the case, longer sprints will be harder.

If you want to keep sprinting:

Do shorter sprints. Try a 10-second hill sprint rather than a 20-second one. Really go hard. Heck, you can even do 5-second sprints and derive major benefits; just do more of them and make sure to recover in between. There’s no rule saying you have to sprint for 20-30 seconds.

Take longer rest periods. Give your muscles a chance to replenish more creatine phosphate (and take creatine or eat red meat and fish, which are the best sources of dietary creatine).

Eat 20-30 grams of carbs 30 minutes before a sprint session. See if it helps. Alternatively, you can eat the 20-30 grams of carbs after the sprint session to replenish lost glycogen stores (without really impacting your ketone adaptation, by the way).

Most people figure out their sprinting sweet spot while doing keto. They may have to play around with the dosages, durations, and rest periods, but you can usually make it work. Be open to trying new permutations.

If you knew you were going to have a poor nights sleep, what measures would you take to reduce some of the damage?

I would exercise hard that night. Normally, a bad night’s sleep tanks your insulin sensitivity the next day, giving you the insulin resistance and glucose tolerance of a diabetic. A good hard interval session the night before a bad night’s sleep, however, counters the next-day insulin resistance.

I would make the most of it. Don’t dawdle. Don’t beat yourself up because of the impending sleep deprivation. It’s going to happen. You have to accept it, not let it destroy you.

Enjoy it. A little-known acute treatment for depression is sleep deprivation. That’s right: a single night of sleep deprivation has been shown to ameliorate depression in patients with clinical depression. Sometimes the effect lasts up to several weeks. It’s not a long term or sustainable fix for clinical depression, obviously, and you can’t do it every single night—chronic sleep deprivation is a major risk factor for developing depression—but it can improve your mood if you give in to it.

I would set out a jar of cassia cinnamon. I always add cassia cinnamon to my coffee in the morning after bad sleep; cassia cinnamon the day after a bad night’s sleep attenuates the loss of insulin sensitivity and glucose tolerance.

That’s it for today, folks. Thanks for writing in and reading! If you have any input on today’s round of questions, let me know down below.

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References:

De vrese M, Kristen H, Rautenberg P, Laue C, Schrezenmeir J. Probiotic lactobacilli and bifidobacteria in a fermented milk product with added fruit preparation reduce antibiotic associated diarrhea and Helicobacter pylori activity. J Dairy Res. 2011;78(4):396-403.

Bekar O, Yilmaz Y, Gulten M. Kefir improves the efficacy and tolerability of triple therapy in eradicating Helicobacter pylori. J Med Food. 2011;14(4):344-7.

Erginkaya Z, Turhan EU, Tatl? D. Determination of antibiotic resistance of lactic acid bacteria isolated from traditional Turkish fermented dairy products. Iran J Vet Res. 2018;19(1):53-56.

Yang KM, Jiang ZY, Zheng CT, Wang L, Yang XF. Effect of Lactobacillus plantarum on diarrhea and intestinal barrier function of young piglets challenged with enterotoxigenic Escherichia coli K88. J Anim Sci. 2014;92(4):1496-503.

Jitomir J, Willoughby DS. Cassia cinnamon for the attenuation of glucose intolerance and insulin resistance resulting from sleep loss. J Med Food. 2009;12(3):467-72.

The post Dear Mark: Antibiotic Recovery, Sprinting on Keto, Preparing for Bad Sleep appeared first on Mark's Daily Apple.

Dear Mark: Antibiotic Recovery, Sprinting on Keto, Preparing for Bad Sleep published first on https://venabeahan.tumblr.com

[cynthiamwashington]

Dear Mark: Antibiotic Recovery, Sprinting on Keto, Preparing for Bad Sleep

For today’s edition of Dear Mark, I’m answering three questions. First up, what can a person do to help their gut recover its barrier function after too many antibiotics? Are there any foods, supplements, or dietary strategies? Second, what can explain rapid fatigue during sprint sessions on a keto diet? Is this simply part of the deal, or are there modifications you can make? And finally, what do I do when I know I’m going to get a bad night’s sleep?

Let’s go:

Mark – any idea how to cure leaky gut caused by overuse of antibiotics. Tried raw dairy for a month to no avail.

First of all, check out my post on leaky gut. Read through it and follow my suggestions for preventing and treating intestinal permeability. It’s a great place to start.

Then, let’s look at some other interventions that have been shown to improve recovery from antibiotic therapy. While most of the studies referenced don’t explicitly describe antibiotic-induced leaky gut, anything that improves gut function and restores healthy gut bacteria will also normalize leaky gut—since it’s the eradication of native gut bacteria that causes antibiotic-induced leaky gut.

Fermented dairy. You tried raw dairy. What about fermented dairy? While raw dairy has its merits, it’s fermented dairy that just works for recovery from antibiotics. Yogurt is a good option to try, although the evidence is a bit inconsistent. Kefir is probably better; it’s been shown to improve patients’ tolerance to triple antibiotic therapy during treatment for H. pylori infection. This is even worth consuming during antibiotic therapy, as many of the probiotic bacteria found in fermented dairy show resistance to common antibiotics.

Fermented vegetables like sauerkraut are also must-eats. The fermented cabbage contains ample amounts of L. plantarum, a bacteria strain that’s been shown to prevent antibiotic-related diarrhea in piglets (another omnivorous mammal). Good options exist in stores (check the refrigerated section; shelf-stable pickles and kraut aren’t lactofermented), and even more are available in farmer’s markets, but the best way to get the most bacteria-rich vegetable ferments is to make your own.

Supplemental probiotics are fantastic here, too: large doses of the desired microorganisms delivered directly to your gut. Some of the strains used in Primal Probiotics, like B. clausii and S. boulardii, have been shown to be effective against antibiotic-related diarrhea, so that could be a good choice.

Don’t forget the food for your gut bugs: prebiotics. You need to eat fermentable fibers and other prebiotics like resistant starch to support the growth and maintenance of the helpful bacteria that improve gut barrier function. Consider eating cooked and cooled potatoes, unheated potato starch, leeks, garlic, onions, green bananas, apples, pears, berries, and pretty much any fruit or vegetable you can get your hands on. Plenty of them are low-carb enough to work on a keto diet, if that’s your desire. Oh, and dark chocolate is a great source of fiber and polyphenols, which have prebiotic effects in the gut.

Incorporate intermittent fasting. Going without food for a spell gives your gut a break and induces autophagy, which can help with tissue healing.

Get dirty, too, to introduce potentially helpful bacteria. Go out and garden. Go barefoot at the park (do your due/doo diligence, of course) and practice tumbling, or roughhouse with your kids (or friends). Don’t immediately rush to wash your hands all the time (unless you’ve been handling raw meat and/or dog poop).

Whatever you do, don’t stress too much about the antibiotics you had to take. Stress is awful for gut health and you’ve already taken the antibiotics—which were probably necessary—so that ship has sailed.

If probiotics with prebiotics aren’t helping (or making things worse), you might want to try going the opposite direction—removing all plant foods and doing a carnivore diet for a few weeks. While I have doubts about the long term viability and safety of eschewing all plant foods, enough people have written to me about their great experiences resolving gut issues with a bout of carnivory that it’s worth trying.

When on a strict keto plan, why do I become so quickly fatigued while attempting a HIT sprint workout?

The first five seconds of a sprint are primarily powered by phosphocreatine (or creatine phosphate), a “quick burst” energy source that burns hot but disappears quickly. This is the stuff used to perform max effort Olympic lifts, short sprints, and other rapid expressions of maximum power. It doesn’t last very long and takes a couple minutes to replenish itself. A keto diet doesn’t affect our creatine phosphate levels. If anything, it should improve them if we’re eating meat.

After five seconds, anaerobic metabolism of muscle glycogen provides the lion’s share of your energy needs. The longer your sprint, the more glycogen you’ll burn. The less glycogen you carry in your muscles, the shorter your sprint. Because once you run out of creatine phosphate and glycogen, you’re left with aerobic metabolism—great for longer distances, not so great for max effort sprints.

Keto dieters tend to walk around with less glycogen in their muscles. If that’s the case, longer sprints will be harder.

If you want to keep sprinting:

Do shorter sprints. Try a 10-second hill sprint rather than a 20-second one. Really go hard. Heck, you can even do 5-second sprints and derive major benefits; just do more of them and make sure to recover in between. There’s no rule saying you have to sprint for 20-30 seconds.

Take longer rest periods. Give your muscles a chance to replenish more creatine phosphate (and take creatine or eat red meat and fish, which are the best sources of dietary creatine).

Eat 20-30 grams of carbs 30 minutes before a sprint session. See if it helps. Alternatively, you can eat the 20-30 grams of carbs after the sprint session to replenish lost glycogen stores (without really impacting your ketone adaptation, by the way).

Most people figure out their sprinting sweet spot while doing keto. They may have to play around with the dosages, durations, and rest periods, but you can usually make it work. Be open to trying new permutations.

If you knew you were going to have a poor nights sleep, what measures would you take to reduce some of the damage?

I would exercise hard that night. Normally, a bad night’s sleep tanks your insulin sensitivity the next day, giving you the insulin resistance and glucose tolerance of a diabetic. A good hard interval session the night before a bad night’s sleep, however, counters the next-day insulin resistance.

I would make the most of it. Don’t dawdle. Don’t beat yourself up because of the impending sleep deprivation. It’s going to happen. You have to accept it, not let it destroy you.

Enjoy it. A little-known acute treatment for depression is sleep deprivation. That’s right: a single night of sleep deprivation has been shown to ameliorate depression in patients with clinical depression. Sometimes the effect lasts up to several weeks. It’s not a long term or sustainable fix for clinical depression, obviously, and you can’t do it every single night—chronic sleep deprivation is a major risk factor for developing depression—but it can improve your mood if you give in to it.

I would set out a jar of cassia cinnamon. I always add cassia cinnamon to my coffee in the morning after bad sleep; cassia cinnamon the day after a bad night’s sleep attenuates the loss of insulin sensitivity and glucose tolerance.

That’s it for today, folks. Thanks for writing in and reading! If you have any input on today’s round of questions, let me know down below.

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window.onload=function(){ga('send', { hitType: 'event', eventCategory: 'Ad Impression', eventAction: '66572' });}

References:

De vrese M, Kristen H, Rautenberg P, Laue C, Schrezenmeir J. Probiotic lactobacilli and bifidobacteria in a fermented milk product with added fruit preparation reduce antibiotic associated diarrhea and Helicobacter pylori activity. J Dairy Res. 2011;78(4):396-403.

Bekar O, Yilmaz Y, Gulten M. Kefir improves the efficacy and tolerability of triple therapy in eradicating Helicobacter pylori. J Med Food. 2011;14(4):344-7.

Erginkaya Z, Turhan EU, Tatl? D. Determination of antibiotic resistance of lactic acid bacteria isolated from traditional Turkish fermented dairy products. Iran J Vet Res. 2018;19(1):53-56.

Yang KM, Jiang ZY, Zheng CT, Wang L, Yang XF. Effect of Lactobacillus plantarum on diarrhea and intestinal barrier function of young piglets challenged with enterotoxigenic Escherichia coli K88. J Anim Sci. 2014;92(4):1496-503.

Jitomir J, Willoughby DS. Cassia cinnamon for the attenuation of glucose intolerance and insulin resistance resulting from sleep loss. J Med Food. 2009;12(3):467-72.

The post Dear Mark: Antibiotic Recovery, Sprinting on Keto, Preparing for Bad Sleep appeared first on Mark's Daily Apple.

Article source here:Marks’s Daily Apple

[tortuga-aak]

I grew up without a TV — here's why I deprive my kids of all screens

Sean Gallup/Getty Images

It is much more difficult for parents to implement a screen-free upbringing for their children now than it was a couple decades ago.

Parents who implement certain parenting methods can become quite sanctimonious.

While parents actively try to keep their children from becoming addicted to tech, it is almost impossible at times and unrealistic.

Choosing what's best for your child does not speak for all children.

  I grew up without a TV at a time when it was still possible for parents to raise kids screen-free without acting like insufferable prigs about it. Although Jerry Mander published his sweeping anti-TV polemic Four Arguments For the Elimination of Television the same year I was born, my parents don't remember their decision to raise us without TV as being much of a political one.

"As anyone can see, time is a zero-sum game," my mom wrote me when I asked her how she and my dad decided not to get a set. "When one is watching, one is not reading, listening to music, having meaningful conversations, etc." They declined my aunt's offer of a TV as a wedding present and asked her for a sewing machine instead. When they started having kids five years later, they saw no need to add TV to the household.

It worked. We read, spent time outside, and sat for hours at the dinner table (especially as we got older and more patient). My parents' friends and family generally believed in sending kids outside to play, so the no-TV decision didn't stand out much in their circle.

We drove to Colorado and back twice in the family Oldsmobile with no DVD players or tablets. Some kids at school made fun of us ("Are you Amish?"), and I wished I knew popular shows like Unsolved Mysteries so I'd have an easier time making conversation with people in my class, but I was generally happy to binge The Babysitters' Club instead. (Just because a kid reads doesn't mean she'll read quality!)

So I'm convinced, from personal experience, that a happy screen-free childhood is possible. Now, my husband and I want to keep our 10-month-old daughter screen-free. This is a task that's going to be much harder for us than it was for my parents.

Sure, there's the question of practicality: Screens are in everyone's pockets now. And the advent of the internet means there's a whole universe of tempting content, far more alluring than Muppet Babies, that simply didn't exist when I was a kid. But it's also a personal challenge, because the potential for parental self-righteousness has ballooned in the 40 years between my birth and my daughter's. I don't want screen-free parenting to turn me into a monster.

The screen-free parenting Facebook groups I follow are full of advice, encouragement, and nightmarish levels of smug self-congratulation. Just let an unsuspecting newbie suggest that going screen-free might present difficulties! He'll instantly be bombarded with stories of just how perfect other screen-free kids are.

"Yesterday at the park," one mom posted in response to a question about whether screen-free kids could feel socially isolated, "my son was asked what his favorite show was by a kid we didn't know. He simply said 'I don't watch anything. Want to be a St. Bernard with me?'"

Aww, so wholesome, unlike kids who watch TV and never imagine anything! The children of the people in these groups are calm, helpful, social, and polite: total paragons of virtue. Their moms seem happy to spend endless hours dreaming up leaf-collection projects and filling sensory tables with new kinds of sand. In another group, one person posted a picture of her two kids parked in front of a fish tank, watching the fish eat their food. "Before school 'screen time,' " the caption read.

Fiona Goodall / Stringer / Getty Images

And while I find myself imagining the Jennifer Lawrence OK gif when I read these absurd posts from these absurd parents, I can absolutely see myself climbing aboard the same high horses they're riding. My sanctimoniousness surfaces when I start to follow a system that I delight in that makes me feel as though I've cracked the code. It's happened to me in the past with Anusara yoga and American studies. This whole-hearted love of a system can be dangerous, because when I've found the right way to do something, it's easy to think everyone else should do it the same way as me.

And going screen-free feels so right for our vision for J's life! We want her to go outside a lot. We want her to play independently. We want her to learn from watching us do things around the house (this is the Waldorf idea of daily life as the child's "curriculum"). We want her to sleep well. We want her to be excited by life, and to feel flow, which is difficult when you're overwhelmed by the kinds of choices and inputs screens offer. We want her to enjoy being around other people—watching their faces, hearing their voices. Eventually, we want her to like to read. All of these things seem like they'll happen more often if screens aren't even a possibility.

And, if I'm being honest, I don't want to fight with her over the iPad. What is it about kids begging for screen time that is so grating to my ears? They sound out of control, driven by primeval desires. Adults are better at hiding or justifying their addictions to the internet; kids shamelessly panhandling for screen time remind me just how compulsive the human-screen interface can become. I know the way I feel when I get off the internet after a good run on Twitter or am pulled away from Netflix mid-Riverdale binge. If I were a kid I'd be crying for the iPad, too.

And when I hear other kids begging to watch a show, how will I be able to avoid giving their parents the side-eye? I remember how it feels to have sanctimony directed my way. I'm not an attachment parent; I give J formula, and did a modified form of sleep training.

During early parenthood, when we were making decisions around those issues, I would sink into the internet for hours looking for advice, emerging in a panic because there was no way I could do what everyone on a random BabyCenter comment thread was insisting was the "only" way to raise a baby. The last thing I want is to be responsible for panicking someone else that way.

I must also remember that because of the circumstances of our lives, remaining screen-free when J is around is much easier for us than it might be for those other people whose choices I'll be judging. When she was very small, and I was on maternity leave, she seemed to spend most of her waking hours feeding, and I had a lot of trouble not looking at my phone around her. (My god, the boredom of those sweet early days.) Now that she's bright and curious, I don't dare. But I also don't find the loss of screens too difficult to bear.

My husband and I both work full-time, and get plenty of contact with the internet during the day. J is an only child, and will remain one, so there is no older sibling to muddy the issue of what's allowed, or younger one who needs a lot of parent-diverting care.

We live in a small town where commuting is minimal, so there are no long car or subway rides that would be so much easier with a DVD player. We have J in a preschool run by a caregiver who is even more of a screen-free partisan than we are. And in truth, there are only a few hours per weekday in which we must eliminate screens from our own lives to keep J away from them.

She goes to bed at 7 every night (something else I believe in strongly … sanctimoniously, you might say); after she's down, we can watch all the Cavs games we want. On the weekends, it feels good to bend our lives away from the virtual world and toward the real one. I sneak a few hours of internet during her naps, and come back ready to take her to the farmer's market or into the woods, where she can mess around with pinecones and get all that good pine sap on her hands. (Sensory table curation, here I come.)

But here's the biggest caveat of all: She's only 10 months old. When she no longer naps, how will we get downtime? What will I do when she's begging to see a movie her friends at school are talking about? (I'll probably take her because I don't totally hate fun.) Will we buy her a Kindle, or install new bookcases to handle the influx of trashy kids' series fiction, like my parents did? Will I picket her school when her first-grade class watches a movie instead of going out to recess on a rainy day?

Parents plan; God laughs.

NOW WATCH: 6 airline industry secrets that will help you fly like a pro

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[theupsidedownunderblog-blog]

THE PATANELA - AUSTRALIA'S VERY OWN MARITIME MYSTERY

The Patanela vanished without a trace while approaching Sydney Harbour in calm seas in November 1988, leaving behind only a barnacle-encrusted lifebuoy and a message in a bottle. The Patanela was a 19 metre (62 foot) steel schooner that was known to be incredibly sturdy -- having undertaken a number of Antarctic voyages and global circumnavigations under difficult conditions. Michael Calvin was one of the crewmen aboard the yacht, and the last communication from the vessel came in the form of a letter posted by Calvin at Port Lincoln, sent to his twin sister. A 1964 newsreel video showing the Patanella preparing for an Antarctic voyage On October 16, 1988, the Patanela set out from Fremantle, Australia for its intended destination of Airlie Beach, Queensland. The schooner was carrying the owner, a businessman named Alan Nicol, skipper Ken Jones, and two passengers, Ken's wife Noreen and their daughter Ronnalee. The yacht was in excellent condition and well suited for long journeys. Also on board were two sailors, John Blissett and Michael Calvin. They had happened to see the Patanela when it was in the harbor at Fremantle, and so admired the yacht that they asked Nicol for a job. They were both trying to accumulate as many sailing hours as possible in order to get their navigational certificates. Nicol agreed, and took them on as crew. Nicol only remained aboard for the first leg of the trip. At Esperance, he left the ship to attend to some business. For similar reasons, Ronnalee Jones also disembarked. The Patanela and its four remaining occupants continued on its way, periodically radioing its position. The trip appeared to be completely placid and uneventful until November 8. At about 1 a.m., a radio operator at the Overseas Telecommunications Commission received a message from the yacht. Ken Jones reported that the ship was 10 miles east of Sydney's Botany Bay. He said they appeared to have run out of fuel. They intended to "tack out" for a couple of hours, then tack back in. He added that in the morning, they may need assistance to get back into Sydney harbor. Jones sounded calm and unconcerned. It was not uncommon for ships to run out of fuel, and the night was calm. Everything seemed routine.

The Patanela under full sail prior to her disappearance in 1988 At least, it seemed routine until Jones called a second time about an hour later. Still sounding untroubled, he asked for a weather report, saying that he didn't want to be too far out before coming into the harbor. Then,for reasons no one has been able to understand, he asked for directions to the town of Moruya, on the New South Wales coast. The radio operator replied that the town was about five hours away, and warned Jones that there was a wind warning in his area. Shortly past 2 a.m., the operator received a third call from the Patanela. This time, there was so much static on the line that it was difficult to make out what Jones was saying. All that could be made out was the skipper saying... "Three hundred kilometers south? Is it south? Is it? South..." Then his voice faded away completely. Those enigmatic words were the last anyone heard of the Patanela. No mayday call was received and no distress flares were sighted, no debris nor bodies turned up on Sydney’s shores – it simply vanished without a trace.

Patanela oil painting 'Oil on Board' The mystery of the Patanela's whereabouts only deepened when Michael Calvin's father told reporters that three days before the yacht disappeared, he got an unsettling radio call from his son. Michael said only "Hello, Dad." Then the line suddenly went dead. It was also pointed out that the Patanela's large fuel tanks had been filled completely before it set sail, making it extremely unlikely that it could have run out of gas. Could Jones' message that the yacht was out of fuel have been made against his will? Or as a coded plea for help? There was no evidence pointing to any collision. All 48 vessels known to have been in the area at the time were checked for damage, and none of them carried any sign that they had run into anything. The yacht was made of steel, with several watertight compartments, which made it exceptionally difficult to sink. Also, the yacht was equipped with an emergency radio beacon. If turned on, it could have been picked up by any passing aircraft. It would have beeped for 48 hours after being set off. There was no sign this signal was ever used. The suspicion quickly grew that the yacht was the victim of a hijacking, although that still did not answer the central question: Where was the Patanela? Nothing more was heard about the yacht until May 9, 1989, when a fisherman off the coast of Terrigal (about thirty miles north of Sydney,) discovered a barnacle-covered lifebuoy. It bore the name "Patanela." Tests determined that the buoy could not have been in the water longer than a month, suggesting that the yacht was still afloat somewhere six months after it had disappeared. The inquest into the disappearance failed to shed any light on the mystery. No evidence was found to support the idea that the Patanela had been hijacked. Although there was an equal lack of proof (other than the lifebuoy) that the yacht had sunk, officials could only propose that the Patanela was the victim of a maritime "hit-and-run": it had gone to the bottom of the ocean after colliding with a tanker or some equally large vessel. However, they admitted that this still did not explain the lack of any wreckage and the puzzling calls made by the skipper and Michael Calvin.

The Patanela at Constitution Dock Hobart Message in a bottle On New Year’s Eve 2007, Sheryl Waideman, her husband, and her brother set off to the beach near Eucla to ring in the new year with swimming and beachcombing. Waideman was strolling along the beach looking for “treasure” when she saw a bottle stuck upside-down in the sand. Seeing that there was a note with writing on it inside the bottle, Waideman took it back home with her and found the following written on it... "Hi there. Out here in the lonely Southern Ocean and thought we would give away a free holiday in the Whitsunday Islands in north Queensland, Australia. Our ship is travelling from Fremantle, Western Aust, to Queensland to work as a charter vessel." The note gave a phone number for the finder to call and claim their prize.  It's somewhat ironic that the note closed with a lighthearted... "See ya soon!"

Message in a bottle from the Patanela, which disappeared in mysterious circumstances off the coast of Sydney. The bottle was found on a WA beach by Sheryl Waideman. PIC COURTESY SHERYL WAIDEMAN. In an email to the Blissett family, Mrs Waideman described stumbling across the bottle while wandering on a secluded section of the coastline between Mundrabilla and Eucla. "We had a great time as it's very isolated and we love beachcombing, fishing and collecting old bottles,'' she said. "The bottle did not look very old but I was still very excited and we decided to open it at home. We were all extremely upset after finding out the story to know these people were missing.'' The note included John Blissett’s telephone number as well as the Patanela’s position in the ocean at the time. It indicated that foul play could be ruled out as a possible cause for the boat’s disappearance, but the mystery of what exactly happened out at sea in 1988 remains. The only other trace of the Patanela that has otherwise been found was a barnacle-encrusted lifebuoy that was found floating off Terrigal almost seven months after the disappearance. Predictably, there has been no shortage of theories. Was it accidentally sunk by a collision with a Russian spy submarine? Or by an uncharted reef? Was it hijacked by arms dealers, drug-runners, or other types of modern pirates? Despite the numerous rumoured and unconfirmed sightings, nothing was ever confirmed about the fate of the Patanela and her crew. The name of the Patanela adds to the mystery A post by Undine at http://strangeco.blogspot.com.au gives this last note... The yacht's name only adds to the eerieness of this story. The name was chosen by the ship's original owner, Phil Waterworth, who assumed it was an Aboriginal word for a protective god. Then, in 1964, a group of scientists who were chartering the Patanela for an expedition did a little research and concluded that the name actually meant "Storm Spirit." As it happened, they were all wrong. "Patanela" is really another word for "Devil." Sources: https://www.gizmodo.com.au/2017/01/australias-most-intriguing-unexplained-phenomena/ http://strangeco.blogspot.com.au/2016/05/the-last-voyage-of-patanela.html http://www.perthnow.com.au/entertainment/sailor-note-washes-up-on-beach/news-story/e9d5f977c483078b9bc9b124e9d07be6 https://listverse.com/2015/12/03/10-unsolved-sea-mysteries/ Read the full article

[tortuga-aak]

I deprive my kids of all screens, but I try not to be smug about it

Sean Gallup/Getty Images

It is much more difficult for parents to implement a screen-free upbringing for their children now than it was a couple decades ago.

Parents who implement certain parenting methods can become quite sanctimonious.

While parents actively try to keep their children from becoming addicted to tech, it is almost impossible at times and unrealistic.

Choosing what's best for your child does not speak for all children.

  I grew up without a TV at a time when it was still possible for parents to raise kids screen-free without acting like insufferable prigs about it. Although Jerry Mander published his sweeping anti-TV polemic Four Arguments For the Elimination of Television the same year I was born, my parents don't remember their decision to raise us without TV as being much of a political one.

"As anyone can see, time is a zero-sum game," my mom wrote me when I asked her how she and my dad decided not to get a set. "When one is watching, one is not reading, listening to music, having meaningful conversations, etc." They declined my aunt's offer of a TV as a wedding present and asked her for a sewing machine instead. When they started having kids five years later, they saw no need to add TV to the household.

It worked. We read, spent time outside, and sat for hours at the dinner table (especially as we got older and more patient). My parents' friends and family generally believed in sending kids outside to play, so the no-TV decision didn't stand out much in their circle.

We drove to Colorado and back twice in the family Oldsmobile with no DVD players or tablets. Some kids at school made fun of us ("Are you Amish?"), and I wished I knew popular shows like Unsolved Mysteries so I'd have an easier time making conversation with people in my class, but I was generally happy to binge The Babysitters' Club instead. (Just because a kid reads doesn't mean she'll read quality!)

So I'm convinced, from personal experience, that a happy screen-free childhood is possible. Now, my husband and I want to keep our 10-month-old daughter screen-free. This is a task that's going to be much harder for us than it was for my parents.

Sure, there's the question of practicality: Screens are in everyone's pockets now. And the advent of the internet means there's a whole universe of tempting content, far more alluring than Muppet Babies, that simply didn't exist when I was a kid. But it's also a personal challenge, because the potential for parental self-righteousness has ballooned in the 40 years between my birth and my daughter's. I don't want screen-free parenting to turn me into a monster.

The screen-free parenting Facebook groups I follow are full of advice, encouragement, and nightmarish levels of smug self-congratulation. Just let an unsuspecting newbie suggest that going screen-free might present difficulties! He'll instantly be bombarded with stories of just how perfect other screen-free kids are.

"Yesterday at the park," one mom posted in response to a question about whether screen-free kids could feel socially isolated, "my son was asked what his favorite show was by a kid we didn't know. He simply said 'I don't watch anything. Want to be a St. Bernard with me?'"

Aww, so wholesome, unlike kids who watch TV and never imagine anything! The children of the people in these groups are calm, helpful, social, and polite: total paragons of virtue. Their moms seem happy to spend endless hours dreaming up leaf-collection projects and filling sensory tables with new kinds of sand. In another group, one person posted a picture of her two kids parked in front of a fish tank, watching the fish eat their food. "Before school 'screen time,' " the caption read.

Fiona Goodall / Stringer / Getty Images

And while I find myself imagining the Jennifer Lawrence OK gif when I read these absurd posts from these absurd parents, I can absolutely see myself climbing aboard the same high horses they're riding. My sanctimoniousness surfaces when I start to follow a system that I delight in that makes me feel as though I've cracked the code. It's happened to me in the past with Anusara yoga and American studies. This whole-hearted love of a system can be dangerous, because when I've found the right way to do something, it's easy to think everyone else should do it the same way as me.

And going screen-free feels so right for our vision for J's life! We want her to go outside a lot. We want her to play independently. We want her to learn from watching us do things around the house (this is the Waldorf idea of daily life as the child's "curriculum"). We want her to sleep well. We want her to be excited by life, and to feel flow, which is difficult when you're overwhelmed by the kinds of choices and inputs screens offer. We want her to enjoy being around other people—watching their faces, hearing their voices. Eventually, we want her to like to read. All of these things seem like they'll happen more often if screens aren't even a possibility.

And, if I'm being honest, I don't want to fight with her over the iPad. What is it about kids begging for screen time that is so grating to my ears? They sound out of control, driven by primeval desires. Adults are better at hiding or justifying their addictions to the internet; kids shamelessly panhandling for screen time remind me just how compulsive the human-screen interface can become. I know the way I feel when I get off the internet after a good run on Twitter or am pulled away from Netflix mid-Riverdale binge. If I were a kid I'd be crying for the iPad, too.

And when I hear other kids begging to watch a show, how will I be able to avoid giving their parents the side-eye? I remember how it feels to have sanctimony directed my way. I'm not an attachment parent; I give J formula, and did a modified form of sleep training.

During early parenthood, when we were making decisions around those issues, I would sink into the internet for hours looking for advice, emerging in a panic because there was no way I could do what everyone on a random BabyCenter comment thread was insisting was the "only" way to raise a baby. The last thing I want is to be responsible for panicking someone else that way.

I must also remember that because of the circumstances of our lives, remaining screen-free when J is around is much easier for us than it might be for those other people whose choices I'll be judging. When she was very small, and I was on maternity leave, she seemed to spend most of her waking hours feeding, and I had a lot of trouble not looking at my phone around her. (My god, the boredom of those sweet early days.) Now that she's bright and curious, I don't dare. But I also don't find the loss of screens too difficult to bear.

My husband and I both work full-time, and get plenty of contact with the internet during the day. J is an only child, and will remain one, so there is no older sibling to muddy the issue of what's allowed, or younger one who needs a lot of parent-diverting care.

We live in a small town where commuting is minimal, so there are no long car or subway rides that would be so much easier with a DVD player. We have J in a preschool run by a caregiver who is even more of a screen-free partisan than we are. And in truth, there are only a few hours per weekday in which we must eliminate screens from our own lives to keep J away from them.

She goes to bed at 7 every night (something else I believe in strongly … sanctimoniously, you might say); after she's down, we can watch all the Cavs games we want. On the weekends, it feels good to bend our lives away from the virtual world and toward the real one. I sneak a few hours of internet during her naps, and come back ready to take her to the farmer's market or into the woods, where she can mess around with pinecones and get all that good pine sap on her hands. (Sensory table curation, here I come.)

But here's the biggest caveat of all: She's only 10 months old. When she no longer naps, how will we get downtime? What will I do when she's begging to see a movie her friends at school are talking about? (I'll probably take her because I don't totally hate fun.) Will we buy her a Kindle, or install new bookcases to handle the influx of trashy kids' series fiction, like my parents did? Will I picket her school when her first-grade class watches a movie instead of going out to recess on a rainy day?

Parents plan; God laughs.

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