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revenant-dumpster-fire · 2 years ago

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August Montgomery Brinkman is a veteran. Sure, it's been a long time—no one will argue that point—but once a champion, forever a champion. If anything, his experience is worth more than any prize pool the Apex Games could ever hope to offer him. That hindsight is what compels him. Not money, not pride, not even fame (as much as it fuels him). Anything to spare his son—as strained as their relationship may be—from making the same errors he did.

Ballistic—as he is known—is making waves and garnering a lot of attention. Whether it's his age, his adherence to tradition, his tendency to subtly flaunt himself, or his honed gun skills on the battlefield, he has become absolutely impossible to ignore. Many respect him already, but not all Legends give such an honor so easily… Some even seek to exploit any sign of weakness their competition dares to reveal.

An undying metallic chassis rattles from above. Like a snake in the vast desert sands, no one is willing to approach him for his well-known venom… Ballistic is either a mongoose or a rat, and Revenant intends to find out.

Or read below instead:

Sons of Fathers

Notes:

Good luck.

- - - - - - - - - - -

"You know, it's quite rude to sneak up on a gentleman having a smoke."

August doesn't even bother to turn his head upward and away from the fireplace in order to address his stalker. He simply remains seated in his velvet smoking chair, feet up on the ottoman, enjoying his vintage tobacco cigar in his smoking lounge.

"I can at least appreciate your genuine interest in keeping off the fine Persian rugs, but—frankly—I'm not so sure I have any help competent enough to get metallic fingerprints off the ceiling, either." He pauses to take the tumbler of whiskey from the serving table, swirl it, sip it, and place it back down. He carefully stands up, his velvet smoking robe hanging down like a royal cape, and puts his back to the fire to face his towering guest of metal, now standing before him.

"Heh, so how'd you know?" Revenant's eyes glare down from their engineered perch, nearly six and a half feet from the floor.

Brinkman sighs quickly, turning away to place his cigar in the crystal dish on the table. It might be a bit of a conversation at this rate.

"At my age, it's quite normal to lose one's hearing, but… I don't like to think of it that way. In fact, I think it's quite the opposite. I didn't lose my hearing, I gained the ability to control the volume and hear more clearly than my ears could naturally." He turns back to face Revenant after placing the half-finished cigar down. Revenant stands tall and still, waiting for him to finish. "I do love the sound of the fire, so I like to keep the volume a tad high on evenings like this. Not to even mention that after our match last week, I would be hard pressed to simply forget the sounds of you crawling along any surface you please. Combine those two factors, and you have your answer. Any more questions, or did you simply come here to nag me about idle things?"

Revenant's yellow LEDs glow a tad bit brighter as they widen.

"No? No. Then I presume we're done here."

August doesn't turn away, waiting to see if the simulacrum will stand down now, or later.

"Is that how you'd speak to your son when he dared to ask a simple question?" Revenant's cadence gives away a deep, internal smile that curls cruelly at his own emotional stab. The prophetic glint of his incisors now gives a warning that he has no good intentions: he fully plans to see what kind of a man August really is.

August doesn't flinch externally at all. He continues to stand straight up, spine aligned, shoulders back, and face forward to his newfound foe. Snakes can be fearsome creatures to the uninitiated, but he is far from that.

"What, aren't you old enough to have had a proper, disciplinarian father? Tsk." He shakes his head for a moment. "And here I thought you wouldn't be as soft as the rest of them."

Revenant's visage protects him from giving away how quickly his internal smile fades, but his still frame indicates his hesitation.

August shrugs a little, now turning back to return to his seat. He looks over his shoulder for just a moment.

"Apologies, I shouldn't have expressed my disappointment like that. I forget none of you people seem to have had any experience with it before." He doesn't hesitate long before working his way back into the red chair. "Fathers these days… spoiling all the children…"

Revenant's metaphorical teeth glint again through a newfound scowl no father has seen in centuries, and no father will ever see again thanks to the metallic prison he finds himself in. This man is no rat… He is a mongoose, and Revenant is fully aware he just sustained a severe bite.

August baited him so quickly, so easily, yet Revenant cannot help the fiery wrath rising in what scraps remain of his soul. No wonder the Brinkman son went incognito after Ballistic was announced. Not only did August immediately cast a shadow so large that it shaded his own son from the spotlight, but he even managed to get his son cut from the Games entirely. The kid had no chance with a man like this for a father.

They're all the same.

"You know, you performed well last match. It was a genuine pleasure having you as a teammate. Playing off your rancorous attitude really sold it for the fans." He pauses to take a sip of his whiskey, gently placing the ornate glass back on the table before continuing. "You're not a bad shot in the slightest either. Perhaps a bit voracious for my tastes, but you're one of the few who can back it up. I'm sure your father would be rightly proud about that one, although given your… status, I'm sure he's not around to see it. Please accept my condolences."

Revenant's boiling wrath evaporates in a mere instant, despite his genuine wish for it to stay. He wants to be livid, seething, ready to live the fantasy of mauling the one man he could never meet eyes with… but then August had to go and say something like that.

It's a genuine compliment. It wouldn't be coming from anyone else, but it is coming from this type of man. Revenant relaxes his chassis, resigned to his sudden calmness. He touches his throat lightly, pulling his hand away to check on the reptilian blood pouring from his vitals. His metal fingers are clean, yet he feels it all the same.

"You're not a bad shot yourself." Revenant speaks, now confidently taking a chair adjacent to August, staring at the smoldering fire.

August scoffs.

"That's putting it lightly, don't you think? You watched me shoot a man perfectly between the eyes. You hit a few faces, sure, but nothing truly perfect." He recognizes a new aura to Revenant, who seems far less aggressive than before. Something new. Something calm. Something far more disturbing, somehow. He raises a glass all the same, refusing to show any concern. "That's my son's chair, be careful not to break it."

"Perfection is the enemy of—"

"Efficiency, you think I don't know that one?" August interrupts him. Revenant doesn't even shoot him a glare. He simply stares into the fire, letting Brinkman have his peace. "I wasn't born yesterday either, young man."

Revenant breaks his dazed look into the flames.

"I am far older than you, and far older than you could possibly know." Revenant's words have only the slightest touch of frustration left in them.

"Yet you faff about like you never escaped your twenties." August starts, Revenant returning his attention to the fire as he sits forward. Revenant pulls a cigarette from his utility pouch, already ready to work on forgetting he came here. "If you took a moment longer to think, maybe you'd come across as… by the—what is that?!"

August jumps up, making his way to Revenant's seated form, swiping the cigarette from between his claws before it could be lit. August begins making his way to a small box on a nearby wooden shelf, flush against the far wall.

Revenant remains in the chair, staring into the fire, letting his now empty fingers curl back into a relaxed state.

"If you want to be treated like a man with experiences worth telling, at least have the courtesy to smoke like one." August chides, busy at his shelf. He pulls open small metal canisters, making a bit of a commotion in the corner.

Revenant sighs aloud, only now bothering to speak.

"It's a lot harder for me to smoke a cigar, you know. Cigarettes are small enough that I can cup it over my face to draw from. I wasn't given the courtesy of a working set of lips." He remains factual in his cadence, only giving away the slightest hints of frustration.

"Could have fooled me with the way you flap them!" August jabs from his shelf.

Revenant doesn't bother beyond that, sitting back upright in the green velvet chair, covered in dust from what must be a decade of stagnation. He groans a little, now trapped in this losing game by his own inability to walk away. He has to know where this goes, even if it means taking more bites from the mongoose in his midst.

"Here, this will work for you." August is suddenly standing over him, holding out a tobacco pipe made of beautifully stained wood with a thin enough bit to slide under his mask and into his mouth cavity—something Revenant cannot even manage with cigarettes.

Surprised, Revenant pauses before taking it, his nonexistent blood turning to ice as he touches it.

"Where did you—?"

"Ah, so you are old!" August snickers a bit, leaving the pipe with him as he returns to his own chair. "You recognize it, do you?"

"My fa—" Revenant catches his initial words in his modulator, refusing to utter them. He corrects himself, then continues.

"It's a Sol by the Theodore Maxwell Company. Made with black locust wood from the northern hemisphere of Solace as they were making way for the initial influx of farms. Before the Great Fire did most of the job, anyway. The farmlands made in the aftermath helped establish the Outlands' agricultural independence." Revenant holds face. "Where did you—?"

"A private collector." Confidence in his impending victory restored, August picks his cigar back up, gently lighting it anew and working the flame evenly around the burnt end once again. He takes a brief moment from puffing oxygen through the remaining cigar. "Want to confirm the authenticity?"

Revenant perks up just enough to give away his interest.

August taps a button on a remote underneath his small side table, turning on the overhead lights. He presses a second button and the off white hue of the overhead lights fade to a deep, dark purple, eventually emitting a black light's glow.

As they do, the wood in the pipe shows streaks of bioluminescence, confirming its authenticity. Even moreso, the wooden flooring, the wood of the velvet chairs, and the wood of the shelves show streaks of an ethereal glow throughout. This whole room is made of Solace's old forests.

Revenant looks around, completely taken aback, but attempting not to show it.

August shuts the lights off yet again, leaving only the glow of the fire filling the room once more.

The room is silent for a while, Revenant once again locking eyes with the fire.

"At least you can appreciate it. Children simply find it 'cool' and don't understand the history anymore." August draws his cigar, holding it for a moment, then releasing the smoke into the air with a sigh. "It's almost entirely reclaimed wood from the old farmsteads of Solace that remained after the fire, of course. They were all made with it back then, since that's what was local and cheap."

"I remember." Revenant murmurs, still holding his unlit pipe.

August smirks, standing up from his chair in a victorious motion as Revenant watches him in intrigued confusion. He just sat down mere moments ago, yet he's already up again.

August stares directly at the snake who dared to enter his den looking for a fight.

"Checkmate. I guess you really are my senior after all." August relishes in the moment visibly, his stature as tall as he can manage. Revenant realizes his misspoken words far too late to rectify the situation. "Shame, really, you've been more fun than any of the children on that playground of a bloodsport, but your cadence and diction gave away your general area of the star map. Once I affirmed which home planet, the time period was just a matter of a few key points in history."

Revenant feels the mongoose's jaws around his head.

"Well over three hundred years old, from the farming era of Solace. You probably watched the remainder of the forests be burned yourself, or at least remember the older folks who lived it. For someone who will 'never know how old' you are, how did I do?"

Revenant stares at him in utter disbelief before reclining in the son's chair, defeated.

The mongoose drags the twitching body of the snake away, relishing in the blood of its worthy—albeit arrogant—opponent.

"I have some Solace spirits, sit awhile. It's not often I meet someone who can go toe to toe with me anymore." August relishes in his victory as he shuffles away, on his way to grab the aforementioned drink. "Matches are on your left!"

Revenant watches him turn a corner through a doorway to the side and disappear, a MRVN butler peering into the room after he leaves.

Revenant pays it no mind.

He holds the pipe upright, lifting it above his head for a moment to check the underside of the wood where the stummel meets the stem.

There's no carved initials there. It was a long shot, anyway.

Revenant pulls it back to his face, carefully snaking the pipe's bit under his mask, between his ceramic teeth, and into his mouth that has scarcely had a reason to open since his awakening. He carefully reaches over to a side table on his left. Without a box of matches on the table itself, he briefly opens the one drawer it has to reveal a box of old fashioned stick matches. With the quick flick of a phosphorous tip against the rough backplate of his metal hand and a couple careful touches to the tampered tobacco in the bowl, Revenant is able to carefully draw on the pipe.

The tobacco flavor fills his mouth cavity and is eventually picked up by his tasting chips in the back of his palate and where his tongue might be. The flavor is like a campfire in the woods, but with leather drying racks to the side and fresh tree nuts falling from the highest branches to be warmed and toasted. Somehow the tobacco even relays the sweet flavor of the woods after a mild rain: when the spores spread themselves, the amphibians run about, and the flowers drip fragrant syrups from their petals. Revenant carefully pulls the pipe from his mouth and exhales the smoke, letting it cloud around his face and hide his artificial visage.

He goes to take another draw, unbothered by the usual pace one has to keep with a pipe. He isn't sure if his body is successfully simulating a nicotine high or if the emotional toll of it all is causing him to falter, but he feels something. He is simply unsure if that "something" is a good thing or not, yet it's lured him in all the same. He knows it's a manipulative force that baits with the nectar of nostalgia, tranquilizes with the rare compliments of an aloof father, and crushes any spark of rebellion with old wisdom and wily tricks. It's antithetical to Revenant, yet familiar enough to traverse.

Revenant bellows smoke, having snuck a devious lungful while the old man isn't around to stop him. He'll be out of it in no time, assuming the processors can handle the slow descent into whatever hell he's slithered into. Blood drips down his scales as the pipe returns to his lips to lift whatever spirit he has left.

Revenant has already experienced this all once before, after all.

• • • •

August is already down half of a bottle of fine Solace bourbon and his slightly reddened cheeks show it. Revenant has long since stopped thinking about how much nicotine tar now lines his chassis internals, enjoying his processors' slowing and inebriated computations, unconcerned with the effects he can later shed off with his skin. The drunken game of mental chess has continued haphazardly for so long that neither party remembers the objective of the game anymore, sacrificing pawns and moving aimlessly across the board.

"And so, of course I told the kid he can't just 'join' the field of bloodsports, but of course he tried anyway—ignored all of my advice! To his credit, he did make his way in, but… I couldn't allow it to continue unimpeded." August finishes up his latest story about his son, Revenant listening carefully.

"Why not? He managed to qualify himself, didn't he?" Revenant asks, although somehow it sounds like it isn't directed to August at all.

"Why? It's simple, really. He may have qualified on his own, but I know full well he wouldn't make it past devils like you. He'd be delivered to my doorstep in a box in no time. We both know that." August removes his glasses for a moment to clean them. "I could never forgive myself if I watched him die, let alone be torn to pieces for live entertainment."

"You tell him that?"

"Hmm? No, of course not." He replaces the glasses on his face.

"Why not?"

"He knows it. After all, every half decent father loves his children. It doesn't even need to be said." August takes another drink, no longer bothering to sip and pace himself.

"And what if the kid thinks you've just got an ego too large to let him do anything on his own?" Revenant asks before starting a new bowl full of tobacco in his pipe, lighting it with a few flicks of a lit match. “What if the kid thinks you hate him?”

"That's ridiculous. Nobody is that blind." August sits forward, concerned at the thought, but too buzzed to consider it deeply.

"I dunno," Revenant draws deeply on the newly lit tobacco, filling his lungs yet again, pausing, and then letting the smoke be expelled through his nostril cavity, "I wouldn't have seen it that way."

August huffs momentarily to himself, humored by the thought.

"You speak like you've been in his shoes."

Revenant hums for a moment before falling quiet yet again, staring into the red hot and ashen logs leftover in the fireplace.

"And what would you propose I do for the boy?" August asks, not necessarily expecting an answer.

"Depends." Revenant's haunting tone returns, his LED eyes fading as they stare blankly into the ambient glow inside the husks of the logs. His voice directs nowhere and everywhere at the same time. "Will he believe you if you tell him it was for his own good? Or is it already too late and he's fated to revolve his life around proving you wrong?"

August groans as he stretches back in his chair, trying to offset the weight of those questions. Even inebriated, those questions do not sit well. What choice did he have? It was either to do nothing and lose his son, or save him despite himself. He wouldn't ever take back his choice. His son is too important, even if he will never understand that reality.

Revenant doesn't break the silence; he just draws more on the pipe to send all semblance of lucidity to a future chassis.

The fireplace crackles a bit more in the silence, only offset by the sound of the MRVN in the hallway dusting the picture frames filled with old family photos. Times no one can return to. Times that can now only be a memory.

"Was it too late for you?" August asks somberly.

Revenant feels a momentary rush of heat through the veins he doesn't even have anymore, followed by the cold, icy chill of an unspeakable wrath. The fire burns no brighter, but holds his attention even more than before.

"Forever the disappointment." Revenant mumbles quietly, leaning forward in the son's chair.

August huffs, wondering if his son might actually think that way. Sure, he is naïve and reckless, but not a disappointment. In truth, it's impressive how much he's accomplished for his age. The only thing August cannot stand is how close his son consistently comes to making the same mistakes he did.

Mistakes that cost him a life he cannot get back.

Mistakes he cannot forgive himself for.

Mistakes he cannot allow to repeat.

"And how do you know that? Have you ever considered some alternative perception?" August asks, piqued if something could be rectified here.

Revenant exhales, the room's circulation barely able to keep up with his pace.

"No. You know it when your father doesn't love you. It never leaves you." Revenant has not broken sight with the fire once. "Never."

The silence sits longer.

For a moment, they both wonder why they've been talking so frankly, but as quickly as the thought comes it is lost in the smoke and drink. Revenant wonders if his assumptions are wrong for just as long before it fades, and August considers if he should try to reach out to his son equally as long before it is forgotten. The inebriation only offers the gift of clairvoyance alongside the curse of forgetfulness, a pair so perfectly destructive.

“And are you anything like your father?” August finally asks, unhindered by any politeness not already ingrained into him.

Yet again, Revenant feels his neural networks blaze alive with a wanton wrath with no target to aim at, his eyes locked into the fire and widening with a hateful glow before cooling into the lingering silence. Something about the inebriation soothes the blow of such a question far too fast. Normally, a beheading wouldn’t be a punishing enough fate for such a suggestion, but at the moment there is no call to action embedded in his systems: just loathing at the need to consider such a question. As quickly as the flood of rage comes, it fades.

“Fuck no.” Revenant growls through his teeth.

“So he was a good man, then?”

An unspeakably hot mass of molten man lunges internally towards Brinkman, just as the metric ton of twisted metal cage holds him back. Revenant has shifted back into the chair, sitting like a rebel upon the throne of the late king after a coup that ended in regicide. He stares perfectly forward, no sign of humanity left in his stature. Only the tears painted down his static face imply any type of emotion, yet seem so cold and apathetic in their perfect shape.

The tar lining his chassis walls and covering every processor has caught up with him. A crueler line of code kicks in, rejecting the possibility of human frailty permeating the decision making process any further.

“I guess so.” Revenant growls in a voice far less impacted by any human emotion than the one moments before, standing up as he does so.

“Hit a nerve, did I?” August jousts, stopping Revenant short as he moves to leave, resting the still-lit pipe on the end table beside him.

The mongoose’s teeth are deep in the flesh of the snake, presuming it has long since bled out in the den.

The subsequent pause and the silence that endures even leaves Brinkman questioning the state of the war at hand.

“Brinkman.” Revenant’s voice is so mechanical and menacing, unlike anything heard up until this point. “Do you know how well black locust wood burns?”

August draws on his cigar, the glow of the butt burning as bright as the fireplace before him.

“Forests wiped out completely by the Apex Games’ firewall creation. Everyone knows it burns. It’s wood.” August pauses. “I don’t recall anything other than the property damage being quite severe. Maybe a death or two. It was some time ago.”

“The time before that—the Great Fire—back when Solace was almost entirely forests with patches of farmlands between, set ablaze to raze to the ground.” Revenant’s voice is lower.

August remains quiet, thinking back to the loose mention of that fire on Solace centuries ago. It was a mere footnote in most history books. It paved the way for the further development of Solace into farmlands; with no trees in the way, the only thing remaining to do was till the land and grow crops. The death toll was severe, but the Great Fire was severely overshadowed by the wars that bookended it.

Revenant’s LED eyes glow a deepening red as they face away from the fire, piercing into the darkness behind the father addicted to the limelight, searching for a meaning in the blackness.

“My childhood home burned so fast I didn’t even have to barricade the doors.” His voice isn’t human anymore as it whispers into the void. It drips with a malice and loathing that can only emerge from the maw of a demon. “The last memories I have of my father are his dying screams, suffocated by the smoke. Nobody was coming to save him, either. Just like he left me.”

August’s blood runs cold while the basilisk in his presence slowly begins slithering out of the den, every former fatal wound miraculously healed.

“Every single memory of that place burned to the ground. Nothing but ash. My father hated me. So I hated him more. All my siblings—his whole damn bloodline—straight to hell.” His voice hisses as his chassis disappears into the darkness. “The forests around the house, the nearby towns, the neighbors, everyone who knew him… They all burned. It spread so far I barely even managed to get away, but it was worth it. By the end, there was nothing left.”

August hears a match light behind him in the dark. He quickly turns to see the loosely illuminated visage of the monster behind him with a small fire atop of a phosphorus matchstick burning away.

“What would your son do? If he could have it his way, would he leave your legacy? Or burn it to the ground?”

The basilisk’s fangs shine in the dark, knowing there is no match for their bestial sharpness.

The match burns down as August watches carefully, locking eyes with the living accusation in the dark, waiting for the flame to fall to the ground and catch the rugs aflame. A single spark could burn the entire mansion to the ground, alongside every memory within it… but the match never falls. It burns further and further down until it extinguishes against Revenant's metal fingertips, once again hiding the fangs of the monster in the dark.

“I’ll see you on the playground, Brinkman.” Revenant’s hollow voice echoes from the darkness sounding further away than possible. August didn’t hear him as he retreated from the room.

August inhales deeply, realizing he is once again alone. The MRVN butlers move around the hallways, rooms, and closets. Not a single warm body warms the place but August’s. He sighs, bewildered by the whole evening as he ponders the omen.

August turns back to stare into the same fire that held Revenant’s attention the whole evening, wondering if the soul of his father still lurks around the remnants of his lost son to hear the vile venom he spits.

“You know I love you, right?” August whispers to the flame before him.

It crackles, but does not answer.

#apex legends #apex legends fanfic #revenant #august brinkman #ballistic #fanfic #fanfiction #my fanfic #my fanfiction #character piece #apex legends fanfiction #OG Revenant #special thanks to my beta readers #you know who you are and i appreciate you #enjoy the emotional trauma bitches

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newstodayread · 2 months ago

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Russia to boost its ballistic arsenal with new missiles and testing, commander says

Russia plans to strengthen its ballistic missile arsenal with new strategic systems and increased testing in light of external threats. The development of the new Osina intercontinental ballistic missile system is a priority, alongside the enhancement of advanced missile technologies. The expiration of the New START treaty raises questions about future arms control and military readiness. On Monday, Senior Russian military commander Sergei Karakayev announced that Russia is set to enhance its ballistic missile capabilities with the introduction of new strategic missile systems and plans to conduct maximum-range test launches. Karakayev emphasized Russia's preparedness to respond to perceived security threats, stating that "there is no place where our missiles cannot reach," as reported by the state news agency RIA. Furthermore, he revealed the development of a new intercontinental ballistic missile system, the Osina, which is prioritized for deployment. Karakayev also confirmed that Russia is finalizing the development of missile systems similar to the intermediate-range hypersonic ballistic missile known as Oreshnik, which President Vladimir Putin indicated would soon enter mass production. The enhancement of Russia's military capabilities follows incidents in Ukraine where the Oreshnik missile was employed as a countermeasure against missile attacks sourced from the West. In light of the expiration of the New START nuclear arms treaty in 2026, which previously imposed limits on the nuclear arsenals of Russia and the United States, Karakayev noted that any plans moving forward would consider developments in U.S. military capabilities. He stated that increasing the number of warheads on deployed missiles is a possibility if the U.S. engages in similar actions. Furthermore, it was reiterated that Russia and the U.S. continue to share advance notices of intercontinental missile tests, ensuring transparency in military operations. Russia's recent military developments occur against the backdrop of intensifying global tensions and security concerns. The strategic arms control landscape has significantly shifted with the impending expiration of the New START treaty, which had provided a framework aimed at curtailing nuclear arms proliferation. Following the treaty's expiration, both Russia and the United States may further engage in arms enhancement efforts, amplifying concerns regarding nuclear stability and security in the region. The focus on developing advanced missile systems such as the Osina and Oreshnik underscores Russia's intent to maintain, if not bolster, its military capabilities in response to perceived threats from Western alliance forces. Additionally, as conflicts, particularly involving Ukraine, intensify, the emphasis on military readiness reflects the broader geopolitical climate where nations are reevaluating their defense postures. Quotes Sergei Karakayev 'In terms of range, there is no place where our missiles cannot reach.' - RIA Sergei Karakayev 'Missile divisions equipped with mobile-based missile systems will be a decisive means of inflicting devastating damage on the enemy in a retaliatory strike.' - RIA Conclusion In conclusion, Russia's strategic military enhancements as articulated by Commander Sergei Karakayev signify a robust response to external threats, underscoring the nation's commitment to advance its ballistic missile systems. The developments regarding new missile systems and potential increases in warhead capacities highlight a shift in military strategy in light of evolving international relations and unresolved arms control treaties. These actions will likely influence future military engagements and the global balance of power regarding nuclear capabilities. Read the full article

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cyberbenb · 2 years ago

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Ukraine war latest: Russia prepares to damage Zaporizhzhia nuclear plant, Zelensky warns

Key developments on July 4:

Ukraine prepares for potential Russian attack on nuclear plant

Zaporizhzhia nuclear plant reportedly loses connection to its main line

Russian missile strike injures 43, including infants, in Pervomaiskyi

Ukrainian forces advance up to 2 km in several directions

Air Force downs 26 Russian drones overnight

President Volodymyr Zelensky said in his evening address, citing intelligence, that Russia is “preparing a provocation” at the Russian-occupied Zaporizhzhia Nuclear Power Plant.

According to Zelensky, Russian forces placed explosives on the roof of two power units.

The General Staff of Ukraine’s Armed Forces reported in its evening update that Russian troops are preparing a strike “in the near future."

“Their detonation should not damage power units but may create a picture of shelling by Ukraine’s military,” the General Staff said.

Meanwhile, Renat Karchaa, an adviser to the head of Russia’s nuclear power operator Rosenergoatom, claimed that “Ukraine is going to attack” the nuclear power plant with “precision weapons and kamikaze drones” overnight on July 5, according to the Russian state-controlled agencies.

Karchaa claimed Ukraine intended to hit the plant with a Tochka, Soviet-made tactical ballistic missile, “with a warhead filled with radioactive waste."

Russia has regularly blamed Ukraine for attacks it itself has perpetrated.

“Now the whole world must realize that common security depends entirely on global attention to the occupiers' actions at the station,” said Zelensky.

Amid the situation around the nuclear plant, Ukraine’s Health Ministry issued recommendations on how to behave in a contaminated zone.

Yet, International Atomic Energy Agency Director General Rafael Grossi, in his press statement on July 4 didn’t mention any new installations on the power units' rooftops nor the possible provocation by the Russian forces.

Life near Russian-occupied nuclear plant: ‘I don’t know if tomorrow will come’

Editor’s Note: The Kyiv Independent talked to residents who are still in Russian-occupied Enerhodar and those who recently left but still have family in the city. For their safety, we do not disclose their identities. When Russian soldiers captured Enerhodar, the satellite city of the Zaporizhzhia…

The Kyiv IndependentAlexander Query

Nuclear power plant disconnected from the grid

Russian-occupied Zaporizhzhia Nuclear Power Plant again lost connection to its main external power line overnight on July 4, Ukraine’s state nuclear energy agency Energoatom reported.

The biggest nuclear power plant in Europe, located in the occupied city of Enerhodar, switched to the only available 330 kilovolt (kV) backup power line, which was recently reconnected after being inactive since March 1.

By July 1, the Zaporizhzhia nuclear plant relied exclusively on the only main power line for external electricity needed for reactor cooling and other critical functions.

Before the Russian occupation in March 2022, the Zaporizhzhia nuclear plant had six backup lines and four main lines of 750 kV.

Europe’s largest nuclear power plant has been experiencing major off-site power problems since Russia unleashed its full-scale invasion of Ukraine and effectively occupied the power plant.

Russian forces have been using the nuclear plant as a military base to launch attacks against Ukrainian-controlled territory across the Dnipro River.

Due to Russian attacks on the country’s energy infrastructure, the plant has been fully disconnected from the Ukrainian power grid several times, having to resort to diesel generators.

On June 20, Zelensky said, citing intelligence, that Moscow was considering a terrorist attack on the nuclear power plant through radiation leakage.

youtube

Russian missile strike on Kharkiv Oblast injures 43

The Russian missile strike on a residential area in Pervomaiskyi, Kharkiv Oblast, injured 43 civilians, including 12 children, Governor Oleh Syniehubov reported on July 4.

The State Emergency Service reported that two infants were among the injured. The medics stabilized the 10-month-old boy, who was hospitalized in the intensive care unit following the attack.

According to the local authorities and emergency services, other children got shrapnel wounds after the Russian missile attack damaged high-rise buildings and cars in Pervomaiskyi, a town of some 30,000 residents.

The attack occurred at 1:35 p.m. local time, the governor said.

Pervomaiskyi, located 86 kilometers south of the regional capital, sits on the railway connecting Kharkiv and Zaporizhzhia.

General Prosecutor Andriy Kostin reported that Russian forces struck the town with Iskander missiles.

The General Prosecutor’s Office launched an investigation into violations of the laws and customs of war.

Russian forces used the Iskander missiles to attack Kramatorsk in Donetsk Oblast on June 27, killing 13 people and injuring 60 more. Ukrainian writer and war crimes researcher Victoria Amelina died on July 1 after sustaining injuries in that missile strike.

In addition, Russian forces launched over 20 loitering munitions to attack Ukraine over the past day. The Air Force downed 20 attack drones and six reconnaissance drones, spokesman Yurii Ihnat reported on July 4.

However, a drone hit Sumy, killing three and injuring 21 civilians, according to the local authorities.

EU top justice official: We aren’t waiting for war’s end to prosecute Russian crimes

As Russia’s war against Ukraine rages on, the European Union’s top justice official says the EU and its partners want to bring all perpetrators of international crimes to justice. “Not only war crimes, crimes against humanity, and genocide, but also the crime of aggression,” European Commissioner f…

The Kyiv IndependentAlexander Khrebet

Ukrainian forces advance

Ukrainian forces advanced in southern and eastern directions, the military reported on July 4.

The Tavria military command spokesman Valerii Shershen said Ukrainian troops have advanced up to two kilometers in the Berdiansk direction.

Shershen also reported that Ukrainian forces are “solidifying the newly taken positions,” conducting aerial reconnaissance, clearing out mines, and shelling the Russian positions in the area.

Russian forces are attempting offensive operations in the Rivnopil sector in Donetsk Oblast, while trying to repel Ukraine’s advance in the southern direction, the spokesperson said.

Ukrainian forces also advanced on the southern flank of Bakhmut in Donetsk Oblast, Deputy Defense Minister Hanna Maliar told national television on July 4.

Russian forces are “deploying all their forces” to stop the Ukrainian advance in the south and in the east, the military official said.

Nevertheless, Russian forces are conducting a “powerful offensive” in the Lyman, Svatove, and Bakhmut directions, where they established “three-tiered staggered defense” lines, according to Maliar.

Over the past week, the Ukrainian forces have liberated 28.4 square kilometers in the south and nine square kilometers in the east, Maliar reported on July 3.

‘It’s a lottery’: How Ukraine’s assault brigade counterattacks near Bakhmut

Editor’s note: The Kyiv Independent spent a day with soldiers from the 80th Separate Assault Brigade in June, and the story is comprised of interviews with them about their experience near Bakhmut. The soldiers are identified by their names or callsigns, and their deployment locations are not reveal…

The Kyiv IndependentAsami Terajima

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cyborg-hephaestus · 2 years ago

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February 19th, 1998

Our recent fray with Sarah Ellis has left my arsenal and our supplies relatively low: I've been working to replenish our stores with sunlight grenades and healing boosters, not to mention giving Louis some ballistic weave: he took some heavy blows during our fight with the Gentlemen, I figure he should be well-protected.

Margin notes: Maybe make one for Quentin too? Holy water armor useful, but only against vampires: keep in mind.

As for my current weapon loadout, I've come to a realization: my cesium launcher, useful though it is, has drawbacks. It can cause collateral damage, it's attention-grabbing, and it's extremely imprecise: I need something else for fighting vampires.

Thankfully, I have an idea: I heard the story about Miss Ruby from my friends, about how she killed a vampire in her club by giving him holy water disguised as a drink. That's a relatively small amount of holy water, but it still burned and vaporized him on the spot: just like with normal humans, it seems internal damage is much more effective with vampires than external. While I can't convince a vampire to drink holy water in the middle of a fight, I CAN deliver it into their body with a hypodermic, given that their skin is as easily penetrable as human skin. I've developed an attachment for my launcher that uses darts instead of pellets, and I've filled those darts with holy water. If my calculations are correct (and I believe they are), it'll actually be a more effective damager than the cesium.

Of course, this has pros and cons: it'll only be effective against something that is affected by holy water, a weakness that isn't as common as it should be. That being said, as long as the darts can be filled with liquid, they can be useful for delivering a payload of my enemy's weaknesses: it's a versatile weapon. That'll be my new main ranged weapon: I'll save the cesium launcher for emergencies and big-gun situations.

(Margin notes: definition of "big-gun situation" needs clarification. Will develop threat ranking system after careful research, deliberation, and classification: remember to ask Quentin and Miss Rosemont for assistance. Possibly Miss Cavendish too, once she's out of hospital.)

I've also begun studies on the spatial anomaly I've discovered in my room: it seems to defy most classifications as we know them. There have been theories about things like this: a space-time anomaly that utilizes warp field physics and null-temporal mechanics. They've been theorized to hell and back, but this is the first proof I've ever seen that they really exist. Obviously, I need to do as much research as possible, but even my initial research has given me intriguing insights: simply put, the anomaly exists in a state of flux unlike the space-time around it, allowing it to be freely changed when exposed to low-level particle manipulation. What's more, when I analyzed its properties and applied Zedillo's Equation, it became clear that it's possible to replicate these properties, thus allowing for the potential to freely "strengthen" or "weaken" space-time itself!

This opens up so many new avenues of invention: artificial gravity or anti-gravity, teleportation, force fields (that one in particular seems like a good place to start), and that's only the beginning! If my theories are sound, it's entirely possible I could go so far as DIMENSIONAL TRAVEL, making it theoretically possible to confirm MULTIVERSE THEORY: this could be one of the biggest technological and scientific leaps forward in human history, and it's IN. MY. ROOM.

(Margin notes: drink water and take deep breaths. Maybe some Ativan too, while I'm at it.)

But even outside of all of that, this anomaly and the possibilities it provides have given me a thought: we've fought some nasty things in our time here at Mossvale, but there's one thing we've never overcome, something we're trying to avoid. HIM. Whatever he was, he was powerful, more than anything else we've seen, anything we've read about.

What if he comes back for us?

So, I've begun work on a project: I want it to be as top-secret as possible, so I'm not putting solid information on it even here. I'm going to keep a secondary journal and hide it with the relevant information inside to keep track. I haven't even begun building yet, but I need to formulate as many ideas as possible. This will be easily my biggest and most dangerous project yet: I need to exercise extreme caution when beginning construction.

(Margin notes: Because it's going to kick SO MUCH ASS.)

Having finished my work for the day, I'm heading back to my room: need to reorganize my weapons when I get back. Can't let anything distract me.

Nothing is more important than this, now.

End log.

#reese anthony langston #scientific journal

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forensicfield · 3 years ago

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External Ballistics

It deals with the flight of projectiles from the muzzle end of the weapon to the target. This is a complicated subject involving parameters such as the shape of the bullet, sectional density, atmospheric conclusions.... #ballistics #forensicballistics

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writingbywatson · 4 years ago

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Albedo, Childe and Diluc with a dense crush

A/N: It has been a while, how is everyone doing, I'm still trying to get back into writing mode but yeah have this for now! Part 2 (Chongyun, Kaeya, Thoma, Venti, Xiao, Xingqiu, and Zhongli)

Albedo

“You know, you and Sucrose look good together”

Albedo couldn’t help but sigh

“Y/N, not this conversation again”

“I’m just saying if you need help with confessing, I have some pretty romantic stuff that’s going to work”

The chief alchemist cannot understand how you can be so dense sometimes

It was pretty clear to everyone around him that he likes you so why does the person he likes seem to be unaware of this idea?

“Humans are interesting” - him every time it happens

But that was the first thing that he liked about you

You were interesting, it was hard to predict what you were thinking

For example, you always displayed a happy go lucky persona and you seemed to have the patience of a god

But the moment that Klee’s life was put in danger, you went ballistic

He knew you were strong but he didn’t know you were that strong

“Well, mark me down as mark me as scared and horny” - Albedo witnessing you going on into a rampage

Besides your bad side, you were also caring, often bringing him things that you think he can use in his experiments

Experiments… that rang a bell in his head

He dropped whatever you were doing and marched towards the sofa that you were laying in, he grabbed whatever you were reading and tossed it to the side, he grabbed your hand and was looking directly at you

“Whacha doing there chalk prince? Is this another experiment?”

“I read that when you look at someone’s eye for a minute can make the other person slowly develop feelings to the one doing eye contact”

“Oh, why are you doing it with me then? Are you checking hypotheses?”

Oh god, why are you so dense and cute?

“Not a hypothesis, this is an experiment proper, I want to see if the person that I like would like me after doing this every day”

Childe

“You like traveler don’t you Tartaglia?”

Every time he hears you ask this, Childe is so mad LMAO

Firstly no, he only likes the traveler because they were strong

Second, he was clingy to you- like a boyfriend clingy to you every chance he gets and you think that he likes traveler!?

Not to mention when traveler visits the bank, you would scream “your crush is here, Childe!” when calling him

Your dense nature was cute but damn it was annoying especially when he was making it so painfully obvious

It’s gotten to the point that even La Signora and Scaramouche wants to help him

He was going to confess to you today, no ifs and no buts

He decided to take you out for dinner and walk around Liyue for a bit

The mood was set, everything was perfect until…

“Oh you two look like a cute couple” - an old lady noted when she passed by you two

Externally Childe was thanking the old lady and he was acting flustered

Internally he was cheering because it set the mood more

“Yeah, we do look like a couple…” -you

“DID THEY FINALLY REALIZE!?” - Childe

“A couple of cute besties!” - you

That’s when Childe snaps, and he grabs your shoulder

“NO! NOT A COUPLE OF CUTE BESTIES Y/N! A COUPLE A CUTE COUPLE WHO ARE ROMANTICALLY INVOLVED! I LIKE YO- NO I LOVE YOU AND I HAD THESE FEELINGS FOR YOU FOR SUCH A LONG TIME! CAN YOU PLEASE NOT BESTIE ZONE ME FOR ONCE AND LET ME LOVE YOU AND SPOIL YOU ALREADY!”

Diluc

“So, I kinda ship you with Jean” -you

“What?” - Diluc

“I ship you with Jean, it is a word from Inazuma it means like pairing two people”

He would sigh always as you say this

“Shut up and drink” -Diluc

Usually, passing comments like that doesn’t bother him but when it comes from it, it does

Why?

Cause he likes you and you were standing in front of him telling him you like seeing him with someone else?!

“So like, when are you going to confess your love to Jean?”

He would put the glass that he was wiping down and glare at you before leaving

“Oh, why is he angry? I just arrived” he would hear Kaeya comment as he exits the traven

“I think it is my fault”

Diluc doesn’t get it, he doesn’t understand why you were so dense!

He was making sure that he was obvious!

“Sorry, I was out of line” he would hear you say from behind him

He would sigh and look at you

He can’t even be that angry at you!

“I don’t like childish talks like that y/n, I thought you knew”

“I know, I’m re–“

“Especially since I like someone already.”

He could see how your eyes would widen and there’s a tint of excitement in them

He would walk towards and stop when you were inches away from him

“Really?! Who?! I can help!”

He should have expected this and he can’t help but sigh

“The person I like is standing in front of me.”

He saw it, he saw how you were about to turn around, and oh boy was Diluc tired of this

He grabs your chin and made you look directly at him

“It’s you, I like you, so stop pairing me with someone else.”

He immediately let go of your chin and started walking towards the traven

“I don’t like waiting for y/n, you better give me a response soon.”

He might look cool but in reality, he was wishing that the ground would eat him.

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #genshin scenarios #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact headcanons #genshin headcanons #genshin x reader #genshin diluc imagines #genshin childe #childe #genshin alebdo #albedo #diluc x reader #childe x reader #albedo x reader

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minuteminx · 4 years ago

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Revolutionary

Pairing: Preston Garvey/ Female Sole Survivor

Summary: In the aftermath of personal tragedies, Preston and Charlie both seek to make a difference in the Commonwealth and those around them. They could never anticipate the impact that they will have on eachother in the process.

Chapter Five: Coast’s Clear

Chapter Summary: Charlie doesn't know many things for certain since she woke up in the future, but one thing she does know is that she will never watch someone she loves die again. Not if there's something she can do about it.

[First Chapter]

[Previous Chapter]

[AO3 Link]

“For mad I may be, but I will never be convenient.”

― Jennifer Donnelly, Revolution

Quincy Ruins, June 2288

Charlie hadn’t lived in Massachusetts for long when the bombs fell. She and Nate moved up from West Virginia in July of 2077, she’d gotten a position as a postdoctoral fellow in neuropsychology at Medford Memorial Hospital, more than a little excited to make use of her shiny new degree. Shaun was born two months later. After spending most of her life moving from place to place for her education, she was ready to settle down. She never made it that far.

Needless to say, she’d also never made it down to Quincy. Though, at the moment, she desperately wished she had.

Preston had this way of looking at her sometimes when he thought she didn’t notice, a lingering glance over his shoulder, a careful observation of her face as if he expected to find some twinkle of pre-war nostalgia in her eyes when entering a new area, memories from a time when the air didn’t reek of sulfur and rotting flesh, and no one had to worry whether or not they’d be run out of their homes and mowed down by mercenary cults. She could offer him no solace. She could barely even look him in the eyes.

In more comfortable times over the past eight months since they had met, he simply asked her if she was familiar with locations or landmarks. Once, he asked her if she had fought in the Battle of Bunker Hill, and she informed him that she was two hundred and thirty-seven years old, not well over five hundred. His smile had wrinkled up his eyes that day as he laughed away the embarrassment. Today, there were no stories to be told, no jokes or laughter, just Preston, Charlie, Amelia, a handful of other Minutemen and a large pile of ashes that used to have names.

“I don’t like this,” Charlie muttered, more to herself than anything.

She jumped when Preston replied, “Me neither. Not one bit.”

She hadn’t expected him to hear her, or even pay attention. She could barely see his eyes from under the shadow cast by his hat, but she didn’t need to see to know that he wasn’t okay. He wasn’t one to wear the overwhelming grief he experienced on his face, anyway. The last time they’d visited a Minutemen graveyard, as the Lexington Super Duper Mart had turned out to be, he had to excuse himself from a barricaded room filled with deceased members of the militia. She found him in the feral-corpse littered hallway, green around the gills and sweating. He didn’t have a weak stomach, but reminders of his loss seemed to impact him viscerally. She wondered how he managed to keep his composure now, standing in the place where it all started.

She was drawn from her thoughts by a thunderous boom that left her ears ringing. She hated that noise. Looking up towards the direction of the blast she saw a small, mushroom-cloud pouring up from a nearby building. A fucking nuke. Hadn’t people learned a damn thing?

Charlie scanned the area for someone holding a Fat Man. She’d been toe-to-toe with wielders of those atrocities enough times to know that she had to act, and fast. Movement on the roof of the nearby church. Just right if the belfry stood a large figure, someone in power armor, with the exact weapon. Without another thought, she charged in his direction. If she got close enough in range she could keep him from firing again. He wouldn’t get another shot. Not if she had anything to do with it.

She tangled with very few Gunners on her way to the church, thankfully. Most of them were distracted by the small militia that accompanied her. A couple of grunts took shots at her once she made it inside, but they missed and she fired back, hitting each of them once. She didn’t stop to make sure they were incapacitated. There wasn’t time. She needed to get to the roof.

The stairs that led to the belfry were worn and rickety. In less of a panic, she probably would have made her way up them gingerly, avoiding the obvious areas of dry rot. Still, she managed to make it to the top without event. She hoped the luck would stay on her side just a little bit longer. She just needed to take out the Gunner with the Fat Man, or at least distract them long enough to protect the Minutemen. Her Minutemen.

“Hey,” Charlie shouted, pointing both of her pistols at the man loading a mini nuke into his gun, “Asshole!”

“What the--” he looked up from what he was doing just in time for her ballistic round to strike him between the eyes.

“Yes,” she said under her breath. How had she gotten to the point where she felt relief at another person’s death? Is this what the Commonwealth made of all its inhabitants?

She moved in closer to examine the man’s corpse, still standing erect in the power armor shell. A whole lot of good that did him. He was a relatively young man, mid-thirties, and she wondered if he had a family. MacCready had been a Gunner once, he’d told her as they sat drinking whiskey in The Third Rail, bloodstained and bathed in red neon light. It was a gig, a way of making money to support his young son when he had no better options. What if this man had been just like him? Charlie didn’t want to think about it.

Noting a fully loaded, modified laser pistol on the ground near the dead Gunner, she picked it up, discarding both of the 10mms in her hands. They’d just been spares, and she was out of ammo anyway. She also looted a stimpak and a good chunk of caps before standing up and adjusting her belt. A loud crash of metal and puffing of hydraulics rose up from the street beneath her and she rushed to the edge of the roof, crouching to keep out of view.

Preston. A more practical person would have noticed the handlebar mustache wearing the T60 first, the actual source of the commotion, but then again she never claimed to be practical. Why was he alone? Why hadn’t he fallen back to the gates with everyone else, where it was safe? She’d run at a man shooting nukes to protect him and there he was out in the wide open, staring down who could only be the notorious traitor Clint, if the militia hat and sheer aura of son-of-a-bitch were any indication. It was out of character for Preston to be so reckless. Maybe he’d forgotten that was her job.

The two men spoke, but she was too far away to make out any of the conversation. She’d never seen Preston look so visibly angry or shaken. She needed to get to him before something bad happened, but she needed to be careful. Frantically, she dug through her various pockets looking for one item in particular. Hoping, praying she still had it.

She smiled and let out a sigh of relief as she pulled the stealth boy from her satchel. That Railroad operative, Deacon, had given it to her as a welcome gift when she’d agreed to help him out. At the time, she’d shrugged it off as a passive aggressive commentary on her lack of discretion. She’d have to thank him next time they crossed paths.

Charlie rushed back inside the church tower, and down the rickety steps as quickly as she could, flipping open the cap of the stealth boy and pressing the button as she did so. By the time she reached the street, she was completely invisible. Later, when she and Preston were safe and sound back at Sanctuary, she’d ask Sturges how it worked.

As she crept her way up behind Clint, the man reared back and punched Preston so forcefully it sent him flying into an old junked out Corvega parked nearby. She brought her invisible hand to her invisible mouth to keep herself from gasping audibly. As far as she knew, stealth boys weren’t sound proof. She took some deep steadying breaths, ignoring the burn of tears in her eyes. Now wasn’t the time to lose her shit.

Moving into position directly behind Clint, she noticed Preston’s eyes on her. He must have noticed the movement in the air. She lowered the stealth field, watching relief wash over his face as she smiled and drew her finger to her lips. Clint would not take him away from her. She wasn’t in a cryochamber this time, and she would not stand helplessly by and watch someone she loved die. Never again.

“What’s so fucking funny,” she heard him ask Preston who was, despite it all, laughing.

“Nothing man,” Preston answered, slurring his words in a way that made Charlie uneasy, “Nothing at all.”

She took that opportunity to fire, aiming her fancy new pistol at the legs of Clint’s power armor. She had noticed that they were damaged as she moved in, knew it wouldn’t take much to disable them. Sure enough, after a half-dozen or so shots, the T60’s leg’s locked up, forcing the man to jump out. He turned in her direction as soon as he did so.

“You little bitch ,” he snapped, and christ, if Charlie didn’t hate being called a bitch.

He tried to raise his weapon and fire at her, but she’d already pulled the trigger, launching a blast of burning red energy into his chest, and filling her nostrils with the sterile scent of ozone. She holstered her weapon and hovered over him for a minute, shaking her head. “I’m not a bitch.”

Charlie then brought her eyes back up to Preston, where he sat leaned up against the car, worry tightening her chest. It wasn’t a good sign that he hadn’t even tried to stand up yet, so unlike him to not make an attempt to brush off his injuries and press forward. She ran over and knelt down in front of him, cupping his face in her hands and turning it to the left, then the right to check for any signs of external bleeding. When she saw nothing more than a couple of superficial scrapes she brought up her pip boy and flashed a bright beam of light into each of his eyes.

Shit , she thought, but hid her worry behind a laugh as he flinched and squirmed away from the light. Only one of his pupils had responded to the flash, which meant that he had a concussion at the very least. She refused to entertain the other possibilities at the moment. The tears she had held back just minutes earlier returned to her eyes, and she didn’t fight them this time.

“You’re okay,” she told him, kissing his forehead reflexively, “Looks like you might have a concussion, but you’re safe. I’m here.”

He blinked up at her a few times, and she wished she could live up to that version of her that reflected in his eyes. She wished desperately that she could be everything he needed her to be, but with Shaun, and the Institute, and--

“You’re really scary sometimes,” he interrupted her snowballing thoughts, a smirk twitching at the corners of his mouth, “You know that?”

She knew she shouldn’t take any of his concussed statements seriously, but an embarrassed laugh bubbled up from her chest, and she couldn’t hold his gaze. “I’m sorry, I just… I’d just watched Clint knock you into the car, and he was about to kill you, and I just…”

She trailed off, internally chastising herself for failing to conjure up a coherent response. She wasn’t even the one with the head injury. A gentle tap, and tug at her chin guided her eyes back to Preston. He let his hand linger where it was as his smirk turned into a full-on smile.

“No,” he said, laughing softly, and shaking his head, “It’s kinda hot.”

Heat rose to her face and she snorted gracelessly at his compliment. She didn’t know how or what to feel, couldn’t put her finger on why his affection made her so overwhelmingly sad. She shrugged it off and wiped a tear from her face. “Jesus, you hit your head harder than I thought.”

He didn’t respond, and his eyes fluttered closed instead, hand falling limply from her face. Panic surged up into her chest and she leaned forward to catch him from falling over on his side.

“Preston,” she called out frantically, as she repositioned herself so that she could ease his head down onto her lap, removing his hat and setting it on the ground by her hip. “Preston?”

Again, no response. “God damnit,” she snapped, slamming the side of her fist into the metal of the car door behind her, body finally giving into the sobs she’d been fighting, sobs that weren’t solely in response to present events. She doubled over, knuckles turning white around the fabric of his duster she clenched in her fists.

“I’m sorry, Preston,” she whimpered, knowing he couldn’t hear her, knowing it didn’t matter because she would continue to let him down. “I’m so sorry.”

Charlie stiffened at the sound of footsteps, straightening up to see Amelia, her long brown hair flying out of it’s braid, followed by the others who’d accompanied them. She found herself wishing MacCready was there, Codsworth, Sturges, anyone except the contingent of unfamiliar faces peering down at their commanding officer having a temper tantrum. Amelia glanced between Charlie and Preston, pretty blue eyes filled with concern.

“He’s okay,” Charlie explained, scrubbing tears away from her swollen face, “Just unconscious. He hit his head pretty bad.”

“What happened?”

“Clint-- at least I think that guy over there’s Clint-- hit Preston so hard he sent him flying into this,” Charlie pointed to the car behind her and watched as Amelia approached the body of the man Charlie’d just killed.

The woman frowned, shook her head, and kicked the corpse before returning to Charlie’s side. “That’s Clint alright, the bastard.” She offered Charlie a reassuring smile, and then glanced down at Preston, “You got a stimpak on you, General?”

Charlie recalled the one she picked up from the Gunner she’d taken out. She could have slapped herself for not thinking of it sooner. She reached into one of the pouches on her belt and pulled it out, showing it to the other woman.

“Perfect. Let’s give it to Preston, just in case he’s more banged up than he looks.” She took the syringe from Charlie’s shaking hand gently and removed the cap, and jammed it into Preston’s upper arm. He jerked slightly at the pain, but didn’t stir. Amelia continued speaking, “What do you say we have a couple of the boys move him someplace comfy? There are some abandoned apartments up the street.”

“Yes.” Charlie nodded. “What about the--”

“Coast’s clear. Any of the Gunners we didn’t kill ran off.” Amelia smiled. “Quincy’s ours again.”

#fallout 4 #preston garvey #preston garvey x sole survivor #preston garvey x f!sole survivor #revolutionary #update #my writing

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dearcat1 · 5 years ago

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The one with X27

i eliminated this without meaning to, so now here we are again.

this one is actually x27 [shrugs] @newmidnightmayor

When Xanxus does finally recover enough to actually do something other than lay in pain and scream obscenities, he goes on a hunt. Not a successful one but a hunt regardless.

Tsuyoshi Sawada, Heir to Vongola, at least according to Timoteo, and Xanxus’ current prey turns out to be a little shit of a level Xanxus can appreciate.

First, the little bitch is impossible to find. No matter what Viper manages to dig up, they’re always one step behind the brat. The only consolation is that so is Reborn.

By this point, Xanxus knows the brat’s medical history. Still no Sawada blood on his hands, though. And not for lack of trying.

So they hire an external information broker, Viper’s hurt pride be damned. It takes them about six months to find out that the same information broker is, actually, Tsunayoshi Sawada.

Xanxus goes ballistic.

Maybe too predictively so because Sawada not only planned for it, he used it in his escape and Xanxus might, maybe, be a little tiny bit in awe.

Just a little, damnit. It’s just a level of petty that Xanxus can appreciate.

So he gathers his men and goes on a hunt. Or resumes his hunt. The point is moot because they can’t catch the little bitch.

And then, one day. The brat starts taunting them back. He’d leave cute little messages wishing them better luck next time.

On one memorable occasion, he left Xanxus a birthday gift on his bed. Xanxus had been taking his shower, never saw a hair of the brat.

And yes, ok, maybe Xanxus might feel more than just a little admiration. Maybe Squalo is right and this is all a strange flirting ritual they’re undergoing.

That doesn’t matter, what matters is that Xanxus is going to pin this little shit down sooner or later and either kiss him senseless or kick the shit out of him.

Maybe both.

Staring at the bottle of wine with a small note on the side sitting innocently on the table of the room Xanxus just stormed, the assassin promises this to himself.

He’ll get the brat, he can decide what to do with him after.

#fanfiction #khr #khr xanxus #xanxus #sawada tsunayoshi #sawada tsunayoshi/xanxus #x27 #ask #newmidnightmayor

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mgrgfan · 5 years ago

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Past of the future, future of the past...

Chapter 9. A strange beginning

25.06.2000, 20 years after the Shift Neighborly Town, Sinnoh

Gentle ringing sound filled the room. With a sigh, a boy with long blue hair has removed the blanket and got up, doing morning stretches. After he was done, he took a shower, changed from his favorite dark pajamas to something more suitable and left his room, going down to kitchen for breakfast.

As always, his mom Deborah has made something amazingly-smelling and his dad Yakob was trying to start himself up with a cup of some horrifying caffeine mix, as dark as…

"Oh, and there you are, just in time!" said Deborah, as a figure has arisen from the shadows in the far end of the room.

"Suppose so. Morning, everyone," replied the Pitch-Black Pokemon, crossing the room.

"Morning, Darkrai," sighed Tobias, taking a seat. Yakob mumbled something welcoming too, then returned to drinking his crime against coffee. Darkrai visibly shifted away from Yakob, still having highly unpleasant memories about that one time he tried whatever infernal substance Tobias' dad was brewing for himself. There was a good reason it was once nearly classified as a chemical weapon, as a wide-awake Komala in Yakob's lab, who also made a mistake of trying this liquid insanity, could attest to.

After a wonderful breakfast (with Latios joining them soon after the beginning), the entire group started to pack up for today's trip in Unova. Thankfully, whatever unholy mixture Yakob was taking was sufficient to finally wake him up, so, he took the wheel, leaving Deborah, Tobias and Darkrai free to take seats, while Latios has cloaked and clung to the car's roof, loving the thrill of "riding" like that.

With a silent hiss, hydrogen started flowing into the fuel cells. Seconds later, with a quiet whine, wheel hub motors kicked in, driving the car away from the home and towards the Sunyshore City - specifically, the Theta Spaceport.

----

The not-so-young-anymore dragon silently flew underneath the forest's canopy, using the flexibility of its serpentine body to maneuver between trees. Something in the back of its mind screamed, that it shouldn't be going like this, that it should be soaring free in the sky, but immediate concerns continued to override it for many years.

Jet-black Legendary knew, that here, it was in relative safety. Humans would have massive troubles searching for it there. They won't risk using their horrific weapons there… or, at least, so it hoped.

Right now, it was nearing the edge of the forest, near the road from place, known to humans as "Pallet Town". It has decided to stay here for a bit, until the night comes… which should happen relatively soon, in fact.

Rayquaza took a rest on a tree, monitoring the situation around. Thankfully, the road wasn't used this often and Rayquaza knew, how to hide, so, even with its jet-black scales, it didn't have much trouble hiding.

Some time later, it has noticed a single young human, who was traversing down the road with two Pokemon at his side - a Pikachu and a Solosis.

Sky High Pokemon knew this human - quite a few years ago, this young human got lost in the forest and ended up taking shelter from rain under the roots of a large tree, together with a lot of Pokemon. Rayquaza knew this moment very well, especially since it also took a shelter there, coiling around others… and, despite worries of the Legendary, it all went pretty nice.

Sensing no one else of note around, the not-so-young dragon decided to take a risk and lit up the bioluminescent stripes, then flew almost right in front of the young human, even showing off a bit. While human did end up taking some device and pointing it at Rayquaza, evidently, it has malfunctioned and produced no result of worth… although Sky High Pokemon decided to stop doing the risky things now, darkened the bioluminescent stripes again and disappeared under the canopy of the forest, barely noticing Ho-oh flying above it, to which none of the participants paid much attention.

----

"Good afternoon passengers," sounded from the speakers. "This is the pre-boarding announcement for flight P-52-4 to Nuvema, Unova. Please have your boarding pass, Pokeballs and identification ready. Boarding will begin in approximately ten minutes time on Tower 12. Thank you."

Tobias, Deborah and Yakob nodded to each other and headed towards the appropriate access terminal. Two elevator and one travelator rides later, they were walking through the access arm to their vehicle, which was just finishing getting refueled with slush hydrogen and liquid oxygen. Seemingly short and stout (but only seemingly so), it, nonetheless, was capable of easily carrying up to 1000 people between any two points of Earth.

Family took their designated places, with Latios being confined to a Pokeball and Darkrai managing to secretly leave it and sneak into the shadow under Tobias' bunk.

"Attention, passengers, this is your captain speaking. The vessel will take off in ten minutes. Walkway is now retracting," sounded from speakers, as the doors to the outside world got closed and walkway got retracted. Passengers were still chatting, as they were taking their places and preparing for takeoff, some of them checking safety cards and/or watching the safety videos, some sharing their experiences, some merely talking… all was as usual.

"Attention, passengers, this is your captain speaking. The vessel will take off in five minutes. Make sure you're on your designated acceleration couch, safely strapped and with your Pokeballs put into the safe underneath it," sounded from the speakers again. Tobias, after a small check, found out Darkrai's small machination, but decided to stay quiet, knowing his oldest Pokemon partner all too well.

"Ten, nine, ignition sequence start, six, five, engine running fully... Liftoff! We have a liftoff on ballistic liner P-52-4! Tower cleared!"

As those words were being said, the plug-cluster aerospike engine has ignited and reached the nominal power. The launch clamps have opened too, letting the huge rocket soar into the sky and set the trajectory to suborbitals, while also making passengers experience moderate G-force. People, however, seem to take it just fine, some of them even joking about the flight being "Smooth, quiet and, in altogether, delightful experience".

Finally, all external fuel tanks ran dry and, with quiet dull clangs, separated from the rocket, starting their own flyback sequence to allow for easier recovery. In the meantime, ballistic liner finished the boost phase and entered the microgravity coast, with captain making another announcement:

"Good afternoon passengers. This is your captain speaking. First I'd like to welcome everyone on Talonflame Aerospace flight P-52-4. We are currently cruising at an altitude of 185 km at an speed of just under 7 km/s. The time is 1:25 pm. The weather under us looks good and with the lack of wind at the arrival point we are expecting to land in Nuvema with some fuel to spare. The weather in Nuvema is clear and sunny, with a high of 25 degrees for this afternoon. If the weather cooperates we should get a great view of the city as we descend. Right now, you will be able to unstrap yourself and to get some awesome views in the illuminators. I'll talk to you again before we reach our destination. Until then, relax and enjoy the rest of the flight."

Indeed, soon enough, people liberated themselves from the safety straps and started gathering around illuminators, with Darkrai managing to slip out of the shadows and get near Tobias too. While it did prompt some uneasiness, authority of Yakob and Deborah was sufficient to prevent it from escalating further, allowing a blue-haired boy and a white-haired Mythical to enjoy views of Earth from the space for a bit longer… until another announcement came through:

"Attention, passengers, this is your captain speaking. In five minutes, we will begin the flip maneuver. Please, return to your couches and strap yourselves back."

Grumbling, people have complied, returning back to their acceleration couches and strapping themselves in order to prevent flying away, when rocket fires maneuvering thrusters. In exactly five minutes from announcement, RCS engines rumbled and the rocket flipped around, pointing the main plug-cluster aerospike engine in the direction of travel. Soon, the main engine woke up again, decelerating the rocket a bit and correcting its trajectory.

The rocket plunged through the atmosphere, decelerating even further as it goes, with liquid hydrogen circulating through the truncated spike of main engine and cooling it down, allowing it to work as a heat shield. Soon, it ended its flight by a gentle hover landing, with exactly right position and heading to allow one of the access arms on the service tower to reach it. After the connection of access arm and opening of doors, Tobias and his family packed up and left the rocket, reaching their rented car two elevator and two travelator rides later.

As usual, human part of the family took their places in the vehicle, Latios cloaked and clung to the outside, while Darkrai stayed in shadows near the backseat.

"So…" started Tobias. "What's this conference's going to be about?"

"As always, yearly conference between researchers of Legendary and Mythical Pokemon," replied Yakob, driving the car to the hotel. "Thanks to your help, we've got some nice results."

"Yakob, if they ever try this again…" said Darkrai from the shadows in a pretty grim voice.

"I know, crouch, get to the nearest cover and wait for the Dark Void attacks to stop flying, then use the replicas of Lunar Wing over the victims, once you've cleared the area."

"Exactly. The fact of me deciding to follow Tobias and you two on my own volition does not mean me welcoming invasive experimentation."

"I sure remember the last time…" muttered Deborah in a strange voice.

"I didn't kill anyone back then, though," quickly replied the Pitch-Black Pokemon, as if slightly afraid, prompting Tobias to enter the conversation again:

"Mostly because of Latios with his Heal Pulse being capable of stabilizing their condition, until I was there to break the Lunar Wing replicas from my personal stash out."

"Yep. Exactly what I've counted on," said Darkrai, even leaving the shadow a bit and nodding.

"Not the best strategy… but, I guess, we'll have to let it slip for now." mumbled Tobias' mother, then sighed. "I hate the rocket lag, to be honest."

"We all do!" agreed everyone inside the car with her.

----

"Now arriving to the Space Colony Core-Middleway," sounded in the cabin of "Drapion" Galarian deep space transporter, as it was slowing down and preparing to dock to the still-unfinished Bernal Sphere - a greatest testament to the insane race of the Space Fever, alongside with automated factories on the Moon, as well as mass driver, which was used to deliver parts of the colony into space, where they were assembled.

"Finally…" mumbled a remarkably unremarkable human, cradling some strange case in his hands. Soon, a quiet, dull "clang" announced, that the ship has docked to the gigantic space installation. Man, blending in with the rest of passengers of the Earth-L5 express, left it through the docking tube and went through a route few people knew, heading straight to the biolabs block on the equator of the sphere.

Inside the Lab 14, another man was already waiting for him.

"So?.."

"Recovered," said the newcomer, opening his case and extracting a strange, tubular device with a faint glow inside the transparent middle section. "You have no idea, how hard it was, though. But old Fuji built some stuff real sturdy."

"Heh… brother was sure like this… was."

The colonial sighed, knowing too well, what's happened back on the planet, then went for another question:

"What about the second specimen?"

"Was unable to recover."

"Well… I guess we'll have to do with only her for now."

"I guess."

The newcomer gave the device to the colonial scientist, who, gently cradling it, took it to the adjacent room and placed it on the table, starting to connect it to the equipment.

"Lessons were learned, mistakes will not be repeated," mumbled the scientist, working on the device and, from time to time, looking at a huge empty biogrowth tube behind him. "I just hope you'll understand me, when the time comes…"

----

"Your Majesty?" sounded a message from the comm app.

"Yes?" replied the Empress.

"Project SAS is going almost as planned. Phase 2 is at 70%, industrial automation is progressing surely, second level networks are almost established."

"ISFs 3, 5 and 9?"

"Gave us all-clear on the technical side."

"And… what about possibility of Scenario 5?"

"Non-zero, but not too great. Roughly 3.6% possible."

"3.6% - not great, not terrible," concluded the Empress, before the call has ended and she relaxed in the chair, remembering, how has it all started fifteen years ago...

----

The Empress was sitting in her chair, listening to the group of scientists, who were standing before her and telling about a plan - a very audacious one, but, given, what has happened a week ago, worthy of consideration. When they've finished giving the explanation, she stood up a bit, walked to the window and, looking at the city outside of the Palace, asked:

"Automation of the economy, huh?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"And… what does it promise for the Empire?"

"Well… an economic solvency that will eclipse that of the rest of the world, no corruption, once it's fully implemented, highly-reactive planning, allowance…"

"Enough. Tell me one thing… Does it mean, that, should it be fully and completely implemented, I will lose my power and be, in fact, left without ability to rule the Empire, remaining merely a face of the new, automatic government system?"

"... Yes."

"And… will this system bring more prosperity to the Empire, than I and the rest of the current rulers can?"

"... Yes."

"... Then you have my full approval."

"... Huh?"

"You are to begin the implementation process as soon as you can. If sacrifice of my position and power will mean the best for the Empire - I am ready to do that."

"... As you wish."

The group of scientists left the room, leaving Empress looking in the window and thinking, whether this decision was right or not and should she cancel this project, while there's still some time left.

Author's notes: The ballistic liner Tobias and his family rides is based on ITHACUS global transportation rocket; The "Drapion" is based on a real project of a "Scorpion" general-purpose space transportation system; Space Fever will be explained more, as the time goes; Can you guess, what was the device the newcomer gave to the scientist on the space colony? The hint is in the only name mentioned in this section...

#Shift Universe #mgrgfan writes a new fic #Ancient Soris Empire #tobias #darkrai

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corvid-420 · 5 years ago

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marxism-leninism-memeism replied to your post “marxism-leninism-memeism replied to your post “If Biden succumbs...”

id say the principate wasn't really "over" until the crisis of the third century but at this point we're kinda splitting hairs lol; my understanding is that the dominate had their own succession mechanisms rooted in military stuff but idk

you’re making a valid and historical point though: the dominate did have its own succession mechanisms rooted in the military/bureaucracy (it was a big neoliberal state avant la lettre, it’s amazing; Diocletian’s census was the first to calculate down the person how much of what could be extracted from them)

But the Dominate, unlike the Principate, never survived past its founder. Until Diocletian died, he kept having to resist pressure to step in and ‘fix’ his Tetrarchy. He had ‘ended’ the 3rd century crisis by splitting the empire into two, with two emperors in each (tetra = 4; i know you know this but whoever else reads this may not) and then letting them sort themselves, thinking they’ll avoid civil wa-

After he died, civil war broke out again, and it wasn’t until Constantine consolidated power by converting the hyper-militant, hyperbureaucratic, Dominate into a Christian empire that he breathed a bit of new life into the corpse (interesting to note that it wasn’t until Diocletian started counting individuals rather than heads of household/estates that the true extent of Christianity’s spread had been known, and that it was his successor who used that info to craft the perfect ideology for a hypermilitant, hyperexploitative, aggressive but dying empire).

But that was a one-trick pony, because after Constantine you’re just reading about a corpse recognizing it’s been dead and shedding parts for decades. The tetrarchy breaks down, and that’s when the child emperors start.

i don’t think it’s ‘splitting hairs’ personally bc at least for me, it helps to understand what’s happening now if you have an intimate understanding of how past planetary hegemons have worked, while also avoiding modern-day charlatans who like quote cicero’s speeches like some tic.

to that end i recommend Luttwak’s Grand Strategy of the Roman Empire. ignoring the parts where he tries to ramrod lessons from Roman statecraft to 1960s inter-ballistic missile defense policy, it gives a stark view into how Americans in Washington are thinking about these things, and illuminates how Rome’s internal politics helped define their external politics.

#marxism-leninism-memeism

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che-mystery-unfolded · 3 years ago

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🔶Ballistic composite materials are used in a wide variety of Armour applications, including Military and law inforcement vests, helmets and vehicle armour as it contains high strength fibres. 🔶Ballistic materials are usually rigid, but may be supple. They may be complex such as Kevlar, UHMWPE(ultra high molecular weight polythene), Lexan or Carbon filter composite materials or they may be basic or simple such as Steel or Titanium. 🔶For past few decades, para- aramid fibres and UHMWPEs have been the standard bearers in ballastic textiles. But the changing nature of warfare and the need to increase mobility while improving protection are challenging for the industry to step up pace of innovation. Much research is needed to create lighter weight fabrics that do better job at blocking damage from high power rifles, IED fragments etc. 🔶In aerospace applications, ballistic materials protect the body of the space craft Or Aircraft Or external objects when it is flying at high velocity. For more such posts follow @che_mystery_unfolded Follow + Like + Comment + Share ➡️📩⬆️ . . #che_mystery_unfolded . . Note: Any problem dm me 📩 . . Turn On the Notification Post ➡️📩⬆️ . #indian_army🇮🇳 #army #chemistry #chemical_sciences #sciencemajor #dailyscience #scicomm #jee #neet #csirnet #gate #chemistryboys #chemistryday #chemistry_major #organic_chemistry #chemistryiscool #chemical_reactions #chemistry_is_awesome #chemistry_lab #chemistry_experiments #chemical_locha #chemical_hearts #btsarmy #chemistry_is_passion #chemistry_problems #chemistry_solutions #chemistry_addict #chemistry_lesson https://www.instagram.com/p/CQGrCtvjKrw/?utm_medium=tumblr

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radiosat24web · 4 years ago

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#eastern_mediterranean_europe_radio24web #easternmediterraneaneuropecontinent #easternmediterraneaneu #easternmediterranean_europeanunion_internet_radio24web #easternmediterraneaneuropeanunioncountries #easternmediterraneancountriesmap #easternmediterraneanregion #states #communities #localgovernment #economicdevelopment #socialopportunity #sportsandfreetime #dailypressreview #radio24web #thursday #morning #israelinternalpolitical Israel: We will defend ourselves against external threats Nicosia - Eastern Mediterranean Europe Radio24web - Israeli Prime Minister Naftali Bennett stressed, on Wednesday, that his country will always defend itself by itself in the face of external threats, in reference to Iran. He said that Tel Aviv will not tie its hands to ensure its security, and will work firmly, creatively and systematically against threats near and far. A few days ago, the Israeli ambassador to Russia, Alexander Ben-Zvi, confirmed that Iran poses a strategic threat to his country, noting that tension will increase in the region with the presence of Iran's new hard-line president. Its range reaches Europe He said, "Iran's ballistic missiles have a range of up to 2000 km, and these are not only to Israel, but will reach Europe and beyond," in an interview with "Sputnik". He also stressed that there are Iranian groups in Syria that threaten Israel's borders, and said, "We try not to interfere in the Syrian conflict and only intervene when we are sure that there are Iranian groups planning either to launch attacks against Israel or to establish some local groups, financing and arming them, and so on against our country... Then we act." This #article continues https://www.instagram.com/p/CQx4GS8NgNn/?utm_medium=tumblr

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yda2021 · 4 years ago

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Continuation of the religious faith.

Some have forgotten about the "spiral" nature of the development of any phenomena, about the duration of the process of increasing OBJECTIVE prerequisites for real LEAPS in the atheistic public consciousness. “They did not know, but they forgot” that both in the pre-Christian religions and in the "Bible" - in a mythical form, the highest achievements of historical science of that time are represented. The real facts of history and some names were turned by interested persons into mystical alogisms and put at the service of the CONSCIOUS introduction of ANOTHER religion. Anyone who has studied the history of Christianity, the "Old Testament", etc. ” Qumran finds", he can not help but notice that the numerous gospels of the "New Testament “began to be compiled long before the” birth of Christ" by people with a wide range of knowledge in matters of real history and mythology of the world. The "Notes of the Dead Sea" received the approval of interested persons and it remained only to find among the secretaries of the regional committees of the CPSU..., sorry, I misspoke, among the sons of Jewish carpenters, one who would agree and could play the role of a democrat..., sorry, I misspoke again, a prophet, a forerunner of the ideas already contained in the” Dead Sea scrolls " - the idea of equality of all people... in paradise. And such a son was found. I think that even Yeltsin, when he climbed on the tank, believed for five minutes that he was a democrat. Many still believe that Christ rose from the dead, and Yeltsin flew in a bag from the bridge into the river, and then rose from the mud, etc.

The history of religion gives reason to believe that among the professional ministers of any cults there are no individuals who truly believe in God. There is a lot of evidence that the church leadership has the scientific knowledge necessary for the successful management of the flock, finances and the entire world community. And if we look for the reason why Christianity still manages to maintain its influence on billions of people, it is solely due to the most SCIENTIFIC approach of the ministers of worship to the organization and strengthening of religious consciousness, the management of modern political systems.

That is, some people understand science, as always, as something unambiguous. And the fact that toxic and narcotic substances were synthesized and supplied to monopolistic oligarchs by SCIENCE, that SCIENCE supplied ballistic missile weapons to Hitler, that American globalism received nuclear and gene weapons from the hands of SCIENCE, these facts are not enough for some to understand that the dialectic of interaction between religion and science is much more complex than the scheme according to which religion arises by itself, out of ignorance, and science only

In fact, both the long history of feudalism and the current revanche of capitalism are based precisely on the fact that there are not only objective laws of revolution, but also objective laws of counter-revolution, learned by corrupt scientists. One of these laws is mythologization, i.e., the alogization of the consciousness of the exploited masses. And if you ask scientists whether, from the point of view of Marxism, there are means, the use of which allows you to prolong the existence of capitalism, science will answer in the affirmative and put in the first place not military means, but for example, drugs and, of course, religion.

The funny thing is that TODAY, BEFORE OUR EYES, the history books are changing dramatically. The same PROFESSORS who, as associate professors, vulgarized the era of Stalin during the Khrushchev era are working on their mythologization for a reasonable fee. A person who not only does not understand the dialectic, but also lacks the skills of conscientious analysis of modern facts that strike the eye can have before his eyes the modern impudent experience of inculcating religiosity in history textbooks and does not learn the lessons, does not understand the real dialectic of the CONTRADICTORY role of science and especially the BEARERS of scientific “mantles” in the formation and strengthening of the religious form of ignorance.

Today, the best paid minds of Western science are psychologists and mathematicians, chemists and physicists... they are working on the “construction” of new religious movements, or at least “scientific "theories on the model and likeness of the "theory of relativity", capable of performing the role of an antilog “virus”in the human mind.

I wonder what my opponents would say if they read the following lines in my article about the role of religious consciousness, i.e., abstract subjectivity, in changing the ways of production. The ancient world, I believe , which still knew nothing about the right of the subject, and whose entire worldview was essentially abstract, universal, substantial, could not, therefore, exist without slavery. The Christian-German worldview contrasted the ancient world as the main principle of abstract subjectivity and therefore-arbitrariness, withdrawal into the inner world, spiritualism; but this subjectivity, precisely because it was abstract, one-sided, had to immediately turn into its opposite, and instead of the freedom of the subject, give rise to the slavery of the subject. The abstract inner world was transformed into an abstract external form, into the humiliation and alienation of man, and the first consequence of the new principle was the restoration of slavery in another, less repulsive, but therefore more hypocritical and inhumane form, in the form of serfdom. The destruction of the feudal system, the political reformation, that is, the abolition of the feudal system. The APPARENT recognition of reason, and therefore the real consummation of unreason, has APPARENTLY destroyed serfdom, but in reality has only made it more inhumane, more universal.

Some people will say that they do not understand this and that it should be stated more simply, as in a dictionary. Some would also say that this is a vivid example of idealism. But I am saved only by the fact that these words belong to the materialist Engels, from whom I am trying to learn diamatic thinking. To the most inquisitive readers who will reach this point, I will, of course, inform them in person in which work of Engels I found these arguments, “and to you, bald...", I will not say this. Joke.

After reading Engels 'quote, which gives an extremely concise version of the description of the unity of the subjective and objective in the historical process, we will consider a brief parody of the” materialistic" approach to history in the presentation of the Podolsk criminal-theoretical group.

Once again about the relationship of science, religion and history

, or a vivid example... dullness.

Let us consider another example of how concrete historical absurdity follows from abstract-theoretical alogism. Let's give once again a familiar phrase and see what follows from it”:

“...religious obscurantism, - podolchans write, - triumphs when science stops in development or degrades.

A striking example is the Middle Ages. At this time, the development of productive forces led to the triumph of subsistence farming. If in ancient times Gaul imported wine from Italy, and Italy consumed Egyptian bread, then medieval France and Italy produced these and many other products themselves. The result was the feudal fragmentation of the advanced countries of the time and a sharp reduction in trade. Under these conditions, the degradation of science began, since the fragmented feudal possessions, unlike the large slave-owning and capitalist states, did not need the achievements of science and did not have the opportunity to pay for serious scientific work. Hence the triumph of religion, which really was a serious brake on the development of science and which was forced to gradually retreat with the development of trade and capitalist production, the formation of national states and the development of science as a consequence."

Podolchane claim-when " science stops in development”, then religion triumphs. It seems to be logical. But why does science suddenly "stop"? You'll never guess. It turns out, according to the “logic” of Podolchans, the reason for the stop and degradation of science is... “the development of the productive forces”, and the consequence of this... "the triumph of natural economy... the feudal fragmentation of the advanced countries of that time and a sharp reduction in trade”" Here is such "materialism".

According to Podolsky's "logic”, it turns out that at the time when Italy exported wine to Gaul, science developed because, firstly, wine merchants apparently paid for" serious scientific work”, and secondly, because... "the truth is in the wine”, and the export of wines, of course, in strict accordance with Podolsky" logic, is equal to the export of truths that simultaneously broke the slaveholding polytheism in the name of triumph... feudal monotheism. But what will not science do, which is well paid, and even through wine is introduced to the truth. But if you break away from feudalism and go down to market Russia, there is a small discrepancy. Russians began to drink more wine, including Italian wine, they began to trade more than to engage in production, and science is noticeably failing. Maybe it's the prevalence of natural moonshine. No one claimed that the truth was in the moonshine. But does the academic science of Erefia also stifle moonshine, in which instead of the truth there are only degrees?

From the Podolsky "logic" follows a rather blasphemous conclusion that the unprecedented and invaluable contribution that Marx, Engels, Lenini, Stalin, Frunze, Makarenko made to the development of social sciences, to the denunciation of obscurantism, they made... for good "money" and thanks to the developed wine trade.

Here is what a " fun " story turns out for Podolchans. The development of productive forces led to the triumph of subsistence farming, and the economic system is called, nevertheless, feudalism, which means the presence of large dynastic landholdings. And where could feudal fragmentation come from, if not as a result of the collapse of the Frankish Empire? And how many centuries was the empire of the Franks formed on the territory significantly exceeding the former Western Roman Empire? And how and to what extent were the fiefdoms to grow in the Frankish empire, so that their owners gradually became independent states and for many centuries defended their sovereignty by FORCE? Over these “little things” podolchane do not think.

The methodological error of Podolchans is that they cut historical time segments in accordance with the theory of relativity, i.e., as the observer pleases. If they are nearsighted, they will generalize on the historical material of a five-minute length, and if they are farsighted, they will sketch a year or two. If they want to, they will limit themselves to the history of Podolsk, and it will be profitable to add Italy, Gaul and Egypt.

They do not know that Marx discovered for them a formative approach to understanding the history of mankind, which allows them not to get lost in the” three pines " of historical incidents, but to distinguish the typical, essential, without separating the basis from the superstructure, and the superstructure from the basis, and progress from the class struggle, so that they can consider the formation not in separate pieces, focusing only on “facts” that are convenient for manipulation, but to comprehend the formation IN ITS INTEGRITY and THE STRUGGLE of OPPOSITES.

You can study a human embryo all day, but with it you will not understand anything in the history of mankind.

The people of Podolsk hid from themselves that the collapse of the Roman Empire did not happen in the same way as in the case of Egypt, Assyria, Urartu, etc. There, the decline and demise of a particular country was not accompanied by the demise of slavery itself. The collapse of the Roman Empire is the last act in the history of classical slavery. The Roman Empire collapsed under the influence of internal and external nascent FEUDALISM, which arose, first of all, in those regions where, during all the previous centuries of slavery, the tribal system and the natural way of farming prevailed, but where the productive forces were already practically not inferior to the productive forces of the Roman Empire, and the quality and quantity of products produced was sufficient to organize mass campaigns of superior forces of "barbarians" on Rome.

Having assimilated the latest achievements of slaveholding-Christian Rome in the development of productive forces, achievements in the basis and superstructure, the” barbaric " suburbs of Rome, BYPASSING SLAVERY, entered the stage of feudalism, ensuring the priority of large-scale feudal land ownership over the islands of natural economy, erecting THROUGHOUT Europe a mass of large cities, some of which were not inferior to Rome, with an unprecedented development of crafts, which led in the relatively near future to the emergence of capitalism.

The dialectic consists in the fact that the CONSCIOUS spread of Christianity played a decisive subjective role not only in the collapse of the Roman Empire, but, above all, in the formation of feudalism. The saints perfectly understood how to use the growth of productive forces to their advantage, and, unlike the feudal lords, the Vatican, during the feudal feuds, for many centuries had a WORLDWIDE influence and untold, at that time, treasures.

If we compare the totality of the achievements of slavery as a formation in the fields of science, technology, art, architecture, politics, diplomacy, international relations, and military affairs with the achievements of feudalism as a formation, taking into account that the history of feudalism (by time) in the” shorter " history of slavery, the superiority of feudalism over slavery will become obvious, and this can be explained from a scientific point of view only by one thing - the superiority of the feudal productive forces over the slave-owning ones. Moreover, if we compare the scale of the feudal imperialism of the Mughals, Genghisids, Portugal, Spain, England, France, and Russia, the comparison will not be in favor of the scale of the imperialism of slave-owning Egypt or Rome.

So, dear readers, if we approach history dialectically, and not curpuscularly and not relativistically, i.e., consider the phenomenon in the inseparable unity of all the elements of its content from the first qualitative leap in development to the “last", and not tear out individual pieces from history and speculate on particulars, the development of productive forces cannot lead to a” rollback " of history. It is another matter that in the eyes of the bourgeoisie, who cannot see beyond their own noses, any deviation from the bourgeois criteria of well-being, and even more so the need to work productively personally, means regression. From the Marxist point of view, the development of the productive forces of society, if we understand what it is, is synonymous with real progress in all areas.

"The dead don't bite.”

To simplify the process of ideological defeat of their opponent, Podolchans, like Morozov, sew me an obviously "firing squad article", as the Trotskyists did in relation to their opponents in the 30s. Podolchane know that the dead do not polemicize, and therefore write: "Just racism smacks of the statement:" The modern life of the tribes of the jungles of Africa, the deserts of Australia, the jungle of Brazil, etc. proves that they are practically unknown to creative thinking."And then, as in the anecdote, in which an ensign who got" trapped” explains to a young soldier that crocodiles, of course, fly “ " but nyzenko-nyzenko”. "Of course," the Podolchans write, " they [primitive people, V. P.] do not know dialectical materialism - their knowledge is too small. However, by surviving in their habitats with the tools they possess, these tribes demonstrate the ability to solve non-standard problems, thus showing creative thinking." What is their unconventionality and creativity in the conditions of the struggle for survival, podolchane do not report. Apparently, they are afraid that there will not be enough paper for a full description.

Meanwhile, the term “survival " means just such a way of life of these tribes in the twenty-first century, which does not even allow them to take a breath, and all the time of life is spent by these people only to prepare themselves for the next round of struggle for the very fact of existence, as most of the population of the former USSR, located beyond the Urals, in Asia, the Baltic States, the Caucasus and Ukraine, has to do. The microminiature of creative thinking in the Neolithic era is confirmed by the fact that some tribes of Australia, Asia, America, and Africa have NOT CHANGED their set of tools OVER the PAST TENS of THOUSANDS OF YEARS, and in the third millennium AD they walk with the same stone axes and spears that their ancestors walked with in the third millennium BC. What kind of real creative thinking can we talk about?

For the sake of truth, it should be said that not only asceticism, but also material excesses do not contribute to the development of the thinking of people of the early Neolithic. The availability of food in some climatic zones of the Earth makes it unnecessary to think creatively, and tribes living in naturally fertile conditions devote most of their time... sleep and digestion of food. The absence of dialectical materialism in their minds with a full stomach excluded the creative work of thought. For the narrowness of their worldview, for laziness of mind, for ignorance of the political map of the world, many peoples of Africa had to pay for several hundred years of slave trade and exorbitant exhausting labor on galleys and American plantations.

But the guilty conscience of Podolchans pushed them to direct deception of readers. They try to hide that following the words: "The modern life of the tribes of the jungles of Africa, the deserts of Australia, the selva of Brazil, etc., proves that they are practically ignorant of creative thinking."But, as practice has shown, in the twentieth century there is no knowledge that a young man could not master, as a child taken from a primitive tribe and placed in a modern educational institution. the brain of any physiologically healthy native is quite suitable for the assimilation of modern knowledge, but it is as if preserved by the social conditions of the tribe, deprived of the information necessary for the emergence of creative, innovative thinking." Where is the hint of racism here? Even the enemy of the people, the Trotskyist Yagoda, who sent many true communists to be shot at the false denunciation of the Trotskyists, would read this phrase and say with chagrin: "The informers have overdone it. You can't “kill " racism here.

Against the background of obvious denunciation, Podolsky shyness looks funny. Quoting me, they write “ " It's just inconvenient to read such lines: "For tens of thousands of years, humanity has not improved the means of production, since the product produced satisfied their current interests.”. And "explain how to understand the history of primitive tribes:" Humanity has continuously improved the means of production. In the tens of thousands of years preceding the formation of a class society, humanity separated itself from the animal world, and then moved from hunting, fishing and gathering to agriculture and cattle breeding, In the course of which man overcame the fear of fire and learned to use it; learned to make weapons for hunting and build a home; from wild plants, he bred cultural and tamed many types of animals; discovered the production of metal from stone. All this required a great effort of the mind. And the person was driven by interest. First, he wanted to protect himself from dangerous animals, and then create a stable food base. We can only talk about slow development."

Indeed, only some tens of thousands of years with an axe of the same “style”. Ie again podolchan crocodiles fly, only "nyzenko-nyzenko". “But this was due to the fact, "my refuters repeat after me," that the struggle for existence did not leave primitive society free time to study nature and isolate researchers from their environment, freed from productive labor. That is why class societies developed faster than primitive societies." Who's arguing with that?

The reader remembers that in the paragraph above, the Podolchans claimed that the” struggle for survival "of primitive tribes is full of non-standard creative thinking, and a few lines below, they also write that" the struggle for existence does not leave“, it turns out, the primitive man” free time " for the development of research, i.e. creative qualities in the individual. That's what I wanted to prove in my work, what Podolchans argue with and... immediately agree with. Only the given twists of the “logic” of Podolchans are called not dialectical, but UNPRINCIPLED and UNSCRUPULOUS.

But that's not all. Marxism, as is well known, proceeds from the fact that "productive labor” is an indispensable condition for the transformation of an ape into a man, and Podolchans claim that" class societies developed faster than primitive ones " because they had people “free from productive labor”. Apparently podolchane mean the high development of feudal lords, priests, officials, hired soldiers, ladies of the demimonde, etc.

Podolchane did not learn the teachings of the classics of Marxism about productive labor. But this topic is too broad and it is impossible to " cram” it into this brochure without removing the dialectical content from it. Here it is sufficient to say that the labor of the slave, productive for the slave owner, for the slave himself means only a deduction from the time of his life and an irrevocable loss of calories, that the labor of the proletarian, productive for the capitalist, for the proletarian himself also means only a deduction from the time of his life and an irrevocable loss of calories. To say that it is possible to be a researcher and to be free from productive labor is to sign a complete misunderstanding of the teachings of Marxism on the question of mental and physical labor. Podolsk residents forgot that both mental and physical labor can be productive, that mental labor plays a CRUCIAL role in increasing the productivity of physical labor. Podolsk residents do not know that “FORCED” and “UNPRODUCTIVE” work has a depressing effect on the creative personality, and “productive” work is a source of satisfaction of the needs of a healthy person, a condition for the formation of new needs and prerequisites for their satisfaction.

Considering the development of primitive society, Podolsk residents, as always, forgot to take into account the law of the abrupt development of the formation. Meanwhile, having made a creative leap in the process of isolation from the animal world (walking upright, using man-made tools, speech, musical instruments, rock paintings, weaving), primitive tribes objectively plunged into routine FOR THOUSANDS of YEARS. The improvement of tools and the accumulation of knowledge about the capabilities of man was so slow that for THOUSANDS of YEARS the captive man was preferred to literally EAT, rather than grow cereals with his help, make skins, cut stones, etc. Having created new tools and found a more rational way to use the captive people, their owners got free time for creative, productive work for THEMSELVES, i.e. they began to invent more and more grandiose slave-owning structures for the slaves. as soon as people accidentally learned, as the Podolchans write, “to extract metal from stone”, there was a leap in the development of tools, and the primitive eating of free labor stopped. There was another tragic leap in the development of the productive forces of society.

Podolchans do not know that each formation includes in its composition one or several LEAPS in development, interspersed with EPOCHS of routine, i.e., relatively slow, and sometimes incredibly slow accumulation of quantitative material for the next qualitative leap, and, moreover, far from unambiguous, namely dialectical. However, in the end, the component "curve” of these jumps is an ascending "sinusoid", abundantly watered with the blood of people who refuse to study dialectics in a real way.

Interest and science.

"One cannot agree," the Podolchans write , " that interest interferes with conscientious scientific thinking. On the contrary, the class interest of the proletariat did not interfere with Marx's conscientious scientific thinking. The interests of the advanced classes are a necessary condition for the development of production. And the acceleration of production leads to the development of science. The discovery of the heliocentric system was a consequence of the Great Geographical Discoveries and the need for orientation in the ocean. And the Great Geographical Discoveries were the result of commercial interests.

The development of machine production during the formation of capitalism led to the discovery of the laws of mechanics. The English bourgeois revolution was accompanied by the appearance of Newton. And the Great French Revolution caused the appearance of a galaxy of brilliant scientists (Carnot, Laplace, etc.). Industrialization, carried out in the interests of the working class of the Soviet Union, led to an unprecedented rise in Soviet science.

In the end, the actions of the most disinterested people, such as Spartacus, Giordano Bruno, Marat, the Decembrists and the classics of Marxism-Leninism, were driven by interests. The interests of the oppressed or advanced classes.

Another thing is that the interests of the reactionary classes and the declassified elements hinder the development not only of science, but also of all areas of society.”

That is, the crocodiles are flying again.

As always, the Podolites began ��for health”, and in the end they recognized that” the interests of the reactionary classes " are big retarders. If the people of Podolsk were conscientious and, consequently, dialectical, they would pay attention to the fact that the same phenomenon, denoted by the same word, “interest”, is both progressive and reactionary. The interest of the bourgeoisie under both feudalism and capitalism is the same - profit. However, it turns out that under feudalism, the interest in profit is progressive, but the same interest in profit under capitalism, and even more so under the dictatorship of the working class, is reactionary. Consequently, the opponents, although “with a creak”, but recognize half of my rightness, recognizing the interest under certain conditions, the ability to inhibit the development of “all areas of society". It's getting warmer. It can be considered proven that interest is not only progressive, but also reactionary.

In addition, the Podolites do not even try to explain why, if the socialist and communist INTERESTS are so good, it is necessary to fight long and hard for the union of the working-class movement with communist SCIENCE. It would seem that be guided by the interest of the proletariat, especially since it is always with the proletariat, and do not torment yourself for 20 years by writing “Capital”, discovering objective laws, conducting propaganda and agitation at the risk of freedom and life. But podolchane are not used to pester themselves with questions.

What is “interest”? "Interest” is a Latin word, the content of which in other languages, like the content of most words, was formed historically. In dictionaries, starting with "Brockhaus and Efron” and up to the last "Soviet Encyclopedic Dictionary", there are several variants of the interpretation of the word “interest“, but all of them evaluate the phenomenon of” interest“, as Podolchans, inconsistently positively, without trying to reveal the essence of the phenomenon itself, designated by the word” interest", its relationship with other behavioral motives.

In the literature, the word “interest” is used to refer to one of the forms of motivation for human activity. The brief definition given by Karl Marx to the concept of “interest” states that " interest by its nature is blind, knows no measure, one-sided, in a word-a lawless natural instinct." The private interest gets especially from Marx. "It goes without saying," writes Marx , " that private interest knows neither the fatherland, nor the province, nor the general spirit, nor even local patriotism. Contrary to the claim of those fantasy writers who want to see the representation of private interests as an ideal romance... such representation, on the contrary, destroys all natural and spiritual distinctions, placing instead on a pedestal an immoral, unintelligent and soulless abstraction of a certain material object and a certain consciousness slavishly subordinated to it." Let us note that private interest is the slavish submission of consciousness to the immoral, soulless abstraction of a material object, i.e., first of all, to money.

In my opinion, Marx's words can only be understood in such a way that the essence of interest as a form of motivation consists in an absolutely uncritical attitude of the subject (voluntary and involuntary) to the degree of comprehension of the material and spiritual reasons that motivate him to activity. The closest thing to the meaning of the concept of “interest” is adjacent to the concept adopted in the Russian language to denote illogical motives: "caprice”," I do what first came to mind” , etc.

But my opponents are used to press the opponent not with logic, but with the number of signatures, the number of quotations, so they will not be convinced by a single quote from Marx. Well, we will also quote Engels (if only my opponents had the patience to read it):

"interest is essentially a subjective, selfish, private interest, and as such represents the highest point of the Germanic-Christian principle of subjectivity and separation. The construction of interest as the connecting principle of humanity necessarily entails - as long as the interest remains directly subjective, simply egoistic-a general fragmentation, the concentration of individuals on themselves, isolation, the transformation of humanity into a cluster of mutually repulsive atoms; and this separation is again the final conclusion from the Christian principle of subjectivity, the consummation of the Christian world order. Further, as long as the main form of alienation, private property, continues to exist, the interest must necessarily be a private interest and its domination must manifest itself as the domination of property. The abolition of feudal slavery made "chistogan the only link between people". Property - the natural, soulless principle, opposed to the human, spiritual principle-is thereby enthroned, and ultimately, to complete this alienation, money-the alienated, empty abstraction of property-is made the ruler of the world. Man has ceased to be the slave of man and has become the slave of the thing; the perversion of human relations is complete; the slavery of the modern mercantile world-perfected, complete, universal venality-is more inhumane and comprehensive than the serfdom of the feudal time; prostitution is more immoral and more brutal than jus primae noctis [the right of the wedding night, VP]... The disintegration of humanity into a mass of isolated, mutually repulsive atoms is in itself the destruction of all corporate, national, and special interests in general, and the last necessary step towards the free self-unification of humanity”.

It is not difficult to notice how unfavorably the classics speak of the "ESSENCE of interest" in general and of private interest in particular. But my opponents will not fail to point out that Engels in the above quotation only once, at the beginning, raises the question of the ESSENCE of interest, and throughout this huge quotation speaks of “private interest”. But I do not set out to convince my opponents. I want the reader to reflect on the ESSENCE and AMBIGUITY of the interest.

But each person has his own private interest, and since humanity is divided and at the same time co-operated along class lines, each class, accordingly, has its own private class interest, and the interests of the opposite classes are antagonistic. But all interests ARE UNITED by one thing, namely, that interest by its nature is a minimally meaningful motive for activity, as Marx said "blind natural instinct” or, as Engels said “" interest... represents the highest point... the principle of subjectivity and separation”"

In other words, the interest does not cease to be a "blind natural instinct" even if it is a proletarian interest, for example, to ask the owner to raise the salary, or to drink beer at work, or to quietly break the owner's car. The result of the reign of interest in the proletarian milieu is well shown in the Manifesto. “This organization of the proletarians into a class, and thus into a political party, IS BEING DESTROYED EVERY MINUTE by THE COMPETITION BETWEEN THE WORKERS THEMSELVES."

In order to better understand the nature of interest, it is enough to ask the question: WHAT KIND OF EDUCATION, DIPLOMA, CONVICTION DO YOU NEED TO HAVE IN ORDER TO HAVE INTEREST?

It is clear that any person can have an interest - a child, a bandit, or an alcoholic. Only a specialist, a high professional, is guided in his field not by interest, but by accurate SCIENTIFIC knowledge. The lower the individual's qualifications, the less likely it is that his actions are based on a clear scientific calculation, and not a private interest.

That is why Marx had to create (tautalogy, because communism is already scientific, but it is said for the sake of understanding) scientific communism, because class interest alone is not able to ensure the victory of the proletariat over the bourgeoisie. The proletarian class itself, due to the circumstances that Podolchans write about as unfavorable (lack of free time), is not able to develop anything but an interest, rather blind, in the form of a desire to escape from the hell of wage slavery, with almost complete lack of understanding how this can be done.

Therefore, if the proletariat is left alone with its class interests, its struggle for the realization of proletarian interests will be waged... forever and without the slightest chance of winning. Because of this circumstance, in my works I proceed from the existence of a higher and lower form of motivation for the activities of individuals and entire classes. Among the LOWEST, most PRIMITIVE forms of motivation is INTEREST, among the HIGHEST, most DEVELOPED forms of motivation for activity is a scientifically based and confirmed by PUBLIC practice idea or, in other words, the SCIENTIFIC LEVEL OF PUBLIC CONSCIOUSNESS, embodied in MARXISM-LENINISM, which has not yet been assimilated by the masses.

I think that even the people of Podolsk will agree with me if I say that, judging by their writings, they highly appreciate the role of interest in the development of science. In their opinion, the brilliant creators, including Marx and Stalin, were motivated by interest. However, since I know for sure that neither Marx, nor Stalin, nor, especially, Spartacus, Newton, Carnot, Laplace, Marat, could personally tell the Podolchans anything about the motives of their activities, I do NOT BELIEVE the Podolchans ' word. But I was convinced that the people of Podolsk themselves are guided in their activities, first of all, by interest, and not by science.

Of course, podolchane can refer to the fact that in the works of the classics there are many cases of appeal to the class interest of the proletariat. But what else is there to appeal to, when Marxism has not yet been assimilated by the proletariat, and the struggle on the basis of interest still brings the proletariat closer to the struggle on the basis of science, i.e., to victory. Today, too, we STILL have to rely on the class interest of the proletariat, since the leading analysts of the working department of the MK RKRP and even the entire Podolsky theoretical group could not rise above their interests.

Opponents prefer to laugh first.

For me, the content of Podolchan's answer is a clear confirmation that people whose consciousness is infected with the most primitive form of motivation, i.e., interest, are extremely aggressive about the need to replace interest with scientific knowledge.

Podolchane write: "It is ridiculous to say that you can become a dialectician only after having previously studied all areas of science. Of course, expanding your horizons allows you to better understand dialectics. There is no doubt that. to create a dialectical method, one needs the encyclopedic knowledge that Hegel, Marx, Engels, and Lenin possessed."Again, the green crocodiles fly "nyzenko-nyzenko". Podolchane first laugh, and then... above yourself. After a good laugh, they admitted that creating a dialectic requires encyclopedic knowledge. It's warm again. But don't be happy.

"However," the Podolchans write further, " the discovery and development of dialectical materialism would be worth nothing if only specialists in all fields of science, culture, and production could master this method.” Podolchane, as soon as they imagine that " in science there is no pillar road and only the one who is not afraid of fatigue, climbs its rocky slopes...", as soon as they read that " you can become a communist only when you enrich your memory with the knowledge of all the riches that humanity has developed...” , so their mood immediately falls, and they begin to fight for the right to call themselves dialecticians before they acquire encyclopedic knowledge, although this is exactly what should not be done, because in any encyclopedia, along with wealth, there are piles of anti-scientific trash, arranged by paid professors in alphabetical order, not causal order. In short, every worldly experienced person, or child, who has read the fable "The Fox and the Grapes” will understand why the people of Podolsk are so rebelling against the need to master" the knowledge of all the riches that humanity has developed." Apparently not in the teeth.

"On the contrary," the Podolchans continue, " dialectical logic allows you to master any area of existence (science, technology, the laws of social development). Dialectical and historical materialism make it possible to analyze the current situation and use it to restore socialism. Therefore, it is necessary not to reinvent the wheel, but to master Marxism, studying the works of the titans, and learn to apply the knowledge gained”"

It's just a matter of business. It turns out that you will master the works of the titans, and then you will easily master “the knowledge of all the riches that humanity has developed”. Podolchans think that it will be much easier for them to master the works of the titans, especially dialectics, than “to master the knowledge of all the riches that humanity has developed".

They did not understand that the Communists had taken upon themselves the burden of acting for the practical reconstruction of the life of all mankind on the basis of ALL OBJECTIVE PREREQUISITES. Without understanding this, the Podolchans suggest that the communists be the vanguard in the transformation of all humanity without knowing EVERYTHING that is necessary for such a transformation, from love to space exploration. Podolsk residents, as noted earlier, did not understand at the time of writing their answer that the struggle for general education is the most important component of the struggle for dialectical education, that mathematics is a special case of dialectics, that after studying mathematics in good faith, especially higher mathematics, you have ALREADY PARTIALLY joined dialectics. And for a good connoisseur of higher mathematics, there are no special problems in understanding physics and chemistry, as special cases of materialism. Studying " Capital” According to Marx, you actually comprehend historical materialism by the example of one of the modes of production. Etc.

Podolchane did not notice that some "prodigies" teenagers graduate from the most prestigious technical institutes and universities. But the whole world practice does not have a SINGLE case where a person at the age of, for example, 25 years is recognized as an expert in philosophy. Not understanding this, podolchane first offer to learn the dialectic, confident that only then they will all the private secrets of the universe will begin to click like seeds.

Therefore, I suggest that young people move from simple to complex, from general education to dialectics, and Podolchans suggest moving from " very simple”, i.e. from dialectics to very complex, for example, to arithmetic or politics.

Podolchans are not aware that the classics of Marxism-Leninism did not leave behind a finished work called "Dialectical and Historical Materialism". We didn't have time. Therefore, if you strictly follow the instructions of the Podolchans and their friends in the infamous group, then all the time will be spent on an unsuccessful search for the work of the classics called "Dialectical and historical Materialism". The task facing the communist movement is to create a work with this name. And podolchane "so comrades", led by small interests, just suggest not to do this, but to study only the " works of the titans”, forgetting that all the publishing efforts of the CPSU, in the field of organizing the study of the works of the classics, turned out to be tragically insufficient.

Practice has proved that it is absolutely not enough to produce one hundred volumes of the works of the classics and organize their formal study. You can only talk about mastering dialectics if you go further than your predecessors, and not only in theory, but also in practice. Nothing else is given.

The state of the modern world communist movement, its disunity and multiparty nature in practice proves that the active "leftists", who haphazardly read the works of the classics on the basis of individual logic, are going... in different parties and movements. And if we do not properly organize the work on the development of Marxism and convince the youth of today that only the RKRP understands the need to develop the methodology of the classics and therefore CONSCIOUSLY moves forward to Victory, then our party will slowly die out, as is the case with the Communist Party. Consequently, without the most intense creative and conscientious work of the members of the RCRP on the fundamental and applied problems of developing the methodology in inseparable unity with the organizational work in the RCRP and beyond, what happened to the organization of the RCRP in Podolsk will happen. It will also "shrink". (And the RKRP - "shrunk" in the end, it was devoured by opportunism and outright Trotskyists).

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woonybin · 4 years ago

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Freebandz Feleki Friday

so uhmmmm in honor of November 20th, the birth date of our founding father almighty author of the Bible of Misogyny, I‘m taking you to a trip we call

✨Freebandz Feleki Friday ✨

Let it be known that should the circumstance arise in which the musical production technician of the hip hop genre known as "Prepubescent Metropolis" lacks the confidence to comfortably instill a sense of trustworthiness into you due to past dispositions regarding the nature of your character, you have my certainty that I will be arming myself with one of many various caliber ballistic combat firearm weapons and after loading a magazine which contains the ammunition on which the projectile lethality is based, and loading a single unit of this ammunition into the capacity chamber of the weaponized warfare mechanism after disengaging the safety locking unit located on the firearm, I will be acquiring the physical space which your biological presence encapsulates into the appropriate sighting contraptions affixed to my caliber combat gadget, so that I may then exert force form my index finger onto the trigger mechanism of the weapon system and set forth a ballistics reaction which will launch a bullet-like projectile into the general direction of which you are present, with the ambition that said bullet will penetrate your epidermis and burrow deeply into your vital organ systems, leading to the internal flowing of crimson life liquids, external spillage of said liquids, and severe damage of biological tissues deemed only repairable by an appropriately trained surgeon. One of the ways we can thank uncle Future for keeping us from ending it all is to take 20 minutes of the day on enlightening our little hollow selves and have a little bit of reading and skim a lil bit onto an essay about humor titled Keeping Up With Science by Hungarian writer László Feleki, that was included in the 1973 anthology A Random Walk In Science, a collection of the wit & intellect of the scientific mind, a compendium of comments both lighthearted and serious by scientists that reveal their intensely human ambitions frustrations and elation. In Keeping Up With Science, Feleki explores the roles of humor (specifically scientific humor) as a sort of cultural defense mechanism against the incomprehensibly fast-paced technological progress of modern society. He said: “Our life has become so mechanized and electronified that one needs some kind of an elixir to make it bearable at all. And what is this elixir if not humor?”

▫️what exactly makes a joke funny? ▫️how does an intelligent joke remain a joke without diluting the intellectual and remain intelligent without compromising the funny? Feleki answers.. ▫️to laugh at a joke without analyzing it is work half done ▫️humor as a fluid serves to dilute the hard facts of life, making it possible to swallow and digest them ▫️humor eludes definition ▫️humor is not “light” literature ▫️parody is a humorous genre of literature

László Feleki writes:

With the invention of the steam engine, the hell of science broke loose. Since then one admirable discovery has followed the other. Today no human brain is capable of comprehending the whole of science. Today there are part-sciences with part-scientists. [Hu]man has hopelessly surpassed himself. He[/she/they/it] can be proud of this, but he[/she/they/it] is no longer able to keep track of his[/her/they/its] own achievements.

Our life has become so mechanized and electronified that one needs some kind of an elixir to make it bearable at all. And what is this elixir if not humor? It is decisive for the present and future of mankind whether humor and science can keep in step…

Considering the question of humor to be one of “extraordinary importance,” Feleki notes that “to laugh at a joke without analyzing it, is work half done” and dude sets out to explore what humor actually is:

The term “humor” itself means fluid or moisture, indicating that already the ancient Greeks must have known both moisture and humor. Humor as a fluid probably served to dilute the hard facts of life making it possible to swallow and digest them. Humor is, of course, palatable even without moisture; in such cases we are dealing with dry humor.

But still, this budapest mf Feleki concedes that one of the hallmarks of humor is how it eludes definition. Instead, he outlines “some partial truths about humor”:

It is evident that humor is difficult to write and therefore is certainly not “light” literature.

Parody is a humorous genre of literature. A really good parody or take-off is better than the original.

The basis of acid humor is ulcers. Many humorists have ulcers.

Truth is often humorous simply because it is so unusual that it makes people laugh.

The greatest blessing of humor is that it relaxes tension. It is really indispensable in situations when there is nothing left but a big laugh.

Feleki goes on to demonstrate the tenets of the science of humorology through a single joke, which he himself told to an acquaintance at the Hungarian Academy of Sciences:

Two geologists converse in a cafe. One of them says: “Yes, unfortunately fifteen years from now the Sun will cool, and then all life on Earth will perish.” A card-player nearby has been half listening to the joke, and turns in terror to the geologist: “What did you say? In how many years will the Sun cool?” “Fifteen billion years,” the scientist replies. The card-player lets out a sigh of relief: “Oh, I was afraid you said fifteen million!”

But as my guy Feleki awaits an outburst of laughter, or at the very least an amused smile from the professor, he is faced with nothing but “brown study, rock-bottom humiliation for a teller of jokes.”

Just as he began to wonder whether his companion had understood the joke, the professor gave an appreciative nod, which he substantiated with a romp through the history of philosophical theories explaining humor: aight let the trip begin.

The joke is good… If we accept Aristotle’s definition according to which the comic, the ridiculous is some fault, deficiency or ugliness which nonetheless causes no pain or trouble, we will find the joke just heard meets these criteria. The cooling of the Sun is certainly a deficiency, or more accurately heat deficiency, although it is not ugliness, for even a chill celestial object can be a very pleasing sight as there are several examples in the universe to demonstrate.

And, then, what about Hobbes’s hypothesis? In his treatise on the causes of laughter this mf said that laughter is the feeling of pride, as seeing the weakness of others, we experience our own intellectual superiority.

The joke also satisfies the contrast theory. For (according to Kunt) contrast is the essence of the comic. And in fact it would be difficult to imagine a sharper contrast than that existing between the ephemeral life of man and cosmic time.

In Schopenhauer’s terms, this can also be taken as the disharmony of a concept with some realistic object with which it is associated. Indeed, the card-player who sighs with relief at the idea that he can calmly continue his card-playing until the 14 millionth year of his life, for it will remain warm enough, entertains a most unrealistic thought within the context of a most realistic idea that men like to live as long as possible and dislike the cold. :s

Nor is Bergson’s theory of automatism left out of account, because the protagonist is jolted out of the mathematically induced natural time sense that measures human life.

To sum it up, I repeat that the joke is funny. Hence I am fully justified in laughing at it.

With this, the professor burst into uncontrollable laughter “so hard that tears flowed and he held his sides.” Feleki returns to the heart of the matter:

It was easy to laugh in the past at the modest jokes which involved the Little Idiot, the two traveling salesmen, someone’s mother-in-law, the drunk, or the Scotsman. Only a small surprise element had to be provided for the listener. A proper appreciation of scientific humor requires the proper scientific qualifications. The vital need to future generations is for a scientific education so they can have the incomparable surcease of humor in order to endure the state of perfection to which man and life will have been reduced by the process of science.

Just consider what degree of culture and education is required to understand the joke which is said to have practically drawn tears of laughter from Einstein and Oppenheimer.

One photon asks the other photon weaving about in space:

“Can’t you move straight? You must be drunk again!”

The other photon protests vehemently: “What do you expect? Can’t you see that I am getting soaked in a gravitational field?”

Yes, this is coming, this is what we have to get prepared for.

#future #happybirthdayfuture #freebandz #youngmetro #educashun #LITerary #gang #Feleki

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fapangel · 7 years ago

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Unless the US resorted to an all out nuclear attack, there is no way that we could be certain of taking out all of NK's nuclear weapons. Any such all out attack would result in many millions of casualties in both North Korea and South Korea and almost certainly in Japan, China and Russia. Due to the fact that those US nukes would have to be detonated on the ground, in order to destroy widespread and deeply buried underground fortifications, as airbursts wouldn't be effective against deep bunkers

the resulting radioactive fallout would be particularly nasty and widespread. Not only would all of Japan (With a population of 130 million) be at risk for lethal levels of fallout, so would all of the West Coast of the USA (Alaska, Washington State, Oregon and California), as well as the coastal areas of western Canada and Mexico. Additionally, all of the Pacific fisheries would become poisoned due to the fallout and would be rendered toxic and unusable for decades to come.

Then there is the issue of sparking off a direct nuclear conflict with China and Russia. Once again, the simple reality is that the USA does not have conventional weapons that are capable of taking out all of the NK military/nuclear fortifications in one single surgical strike.

Without diving into a full argument in favor of counter-force strike, allow me to illustrate just how incorrect these misconceptions are. This isn’t your fault - everything you typed I have seen expressed, verbatim, by journalists, academics, and other people who should damn well know better.

You have been lied to, deliberately and consistently.

Lie #1:

US nukes would have to be detonated on the ground, in order to destroy widespread and deeply buried underground fortifications, as airbursts wouldn't be effective against deep bunkers

Not if the B-61-12 is used, the latest modification of the B-61 nuclear freefall bomb to make it a precision-guided, earth-penetrating, low-yield bunker buster. The precision guidance (GPS/inertial) alone makes it far more effective, as doubling the accuracy of a weapon increases its destructive potential eightfold (a simple consequence of the inverse-square law.) The earth-penetrating ability increases the “shock coupling,” i.e. the kinetic energy transferred to the earth (to collapse deep bunkers like an “earthquake bomb” does,) and of course, the low yield greatly reduces the collateral damage and fallout effects. The only publicly disclosed data on the Mod-12 puts the maximum yield at 50 kilotons, but based on prior configurations of the B-61s “physics package,” the weapon probably has a variable yield ranging from 0.3kt to 50kt. On its lowest setting, the bomb will only have a yield of three hundred tons. A sub-kiloton yield. Especially at such low yields, the earth-penetrating nature of the weapon is likely to reduce fallout, especially when hitting hard rock (less loose soil to be blown into the air; only rock actually vaporized by the very small nuclear fireball would be put into the air.) This is hard to gauge, as no declassified equations exist for working out fallout from a shallow sub-surface detonation. In fact, the excellent nukemap.com cannot calculate fallout even for a surface burst, as its equations only cover detonations of a kiloton or over.

It should be noted that the B-61-12 is in qualification testing as we speak - the weapon is finished, and given the urgency of the current crisis, could reasonably be rushed into service in low numbers.

Lie #2:

Then there is the issue of sparking off a direct nuclear conflict with China and Russia.

Even ignoring the existence of the B-61-12 described above, this claim completely ignores the bomber-based leg of the American nuclear triad, which still operates the AGM-86 Air Launched Cruise Missile (variable yield of 5-150 kilotons) and the B-83 freefall bomb (variable yield up to 1.2 megatons,) both delivered by the B-52 strategic bomber - some of which are based on Guam (and have been since the early days of the Cold War.) The B-52 has had an unescorted deep-nuclear-strike penetration mission ever since the AGM-28 Hound Dog debeuted in 1960, a massive nuclear-armed cruise missile designed to simply vaporize SAM sites and entire Soviet fighter bases so the B-52s could reach their targets and deliver their heavy freefall bombs. The modern incarnation of this would involve B-52s carrying ALCMs or B-83s internally, and carrying MALD-J decoys and/or JASSM-ER stealth cruise missiles on their external pylons to jam, confuse, and outright destroy North Korea’s painfully antiquated air defense network before moving in to deliver their nuclear strikes. And this is without escort or assistance from fighter-bombers and/or OECM aircraft based in Japan, Okinawa or South Korea, which they would have.

It is possible - though extremely unlikely - that Russia or China would panic and assume that a low number of incoming ICBMs/SLBMs from America’s direction were actually aimed at them, and decide to commit suicide by launching a massive retaliatory attack even before the tracks of incoming warheads had been “firmed up” by radar (even though China doesn’t have a “launch-on-warning” policy.) It is not possible that they will interpret lumbering Cold-War era bomber aircraft a legitimate nuclear threat to their very capable, modern, and dense IADS - even the ALCM is a dated, non-stealth design. Even if they should construe these aircraft as “attacking them,” by sheer dint of their numbers and possible kiloton yield per aircraft alone it’d qualify as a tactical useage of nuclear weapons, not a strategic one demanding immediate massive retaliation.

There is absolutely no credible argument for the employment of tactical nuclear warheads against North Korea leading to a full-on strategic nuclear exchange between Russia/China and the United States, and anyone telling you such is a lying bastard trying to play on your emotions to avoid making a real argument.

Lie #3:

Once again, the simple reality is that the USA does not have conventional weapons that are capable of taking out all of the NK military/nuclear fortifications in one single surgical strike.

The hell we don’t.

Meet the AGM-158 JASSM (Joint Air-to-Surface-Standoff Missile), a fully stealthed air-launched cruise missile that also has an ER variant (a full 600nm range) and a penetrating warhead variant for hardened targets.

The B-1B “Lancer” can carry 24 of these weapons in its internal bomb-bays. The B-1B is an intercontinental capable bomber (with suitable tanker support.) 1/3rd of the currently active US fleet (20 aircraft) can thus deliver 480 of these weapons - in a non-stop round trip direct from Dyess Air Force Base, Texas, as they have done many times in sorties to Afghanistan and Iraq.

Estimates of DPRK Transporter-Erector-Launcher numbers range from 150 to 300. Even if every single one was located inside its own dispersal bunker, the JASSM would be more than capable of destroying it, as their penetration ability is enhanced by the ability to conduct a guided attack (i.e. a 90-degree dive with full engine power to enhance the kinetic penetration prior to detonation.) This is indeed the worst case scenario, as any TELs located in large facilities under mountains can be interdicted simply by collapsing the tunnel entrances with similar weaponry - a TEL cannot fire a ballistic missile though a hundred feet of solid rock, after all. This vulnerability is almost certainly why the DPRK is observably building individual dispersal bunkers in close proximity to probable (and in one case, identified) under-mountain SRBM facilities.

Note I have not touched on the TLAM-D Tomahawk and its Tactical Tomahawk Penetrator Variant warhead (which put those neat holes in the hardened shelters at Shayrat AFB,) which is carried in copious numbers by the warships of 7th fleet (and by the four converted Ohio-class boomers, each mustering a staggering 154 weapons, for a total of 616 Tomahawk missiles deliverable with complete surprise,) nor the B-2 Spirit stealth bomber (capable of delivering a pair of the uniquely powerful 30,000 pound GBU-57 “MOP” bunker-busters, among other weapons,) or B-52s (both capable of inter-continental attacks as well,) or utilizing F-35s and F-22s in the strike role (with the F-22 lobbing Small Diameter Bombs, themselves capable bunker-busters in their own right,) nor any of the tactical fighter-bomber assets already in-theater, including US Air Force F-16s and F-15s in South Korea, or Navy/Marine Hornet/Super Hornets in Japan and Okinawa, all of them capable of delivering standoff cruise missiles and the JSOW glide-bomb with either a submunition or BROACH penetrating warhead.

Even if one assumes utilization of in-theater airpower is limited by the need to hide preparations from espionage, it is foolish to claim that the United States does not have an overwhelming capacity to deliver ordinance in a SURPRISE, surgical attack, even against extensively hardened targets. The only real limit on the United States’s ability in this regard is locating the targets, but given the massive superiority in ISR assets deployed to the peninsula - including U-2S spy planes and RQ-170 stealth drones capable of operating in DPRK airspace with relative impunity, combined with the relatively compact dimensions of the Korean peninsula, this is hardly an insurmountable obstacle.

And then there is the simple fact we needn’t intercept every single missile launcher and/or WMD warhead before launch, as South Korea and Japan will both be defended by a tested, multi-layered ABM shield. South Korea is covered by the SM-3 (late exoatmospheric intercept), THAAD (very high altitude endo-atmospheric intercept,) the SM-2ER/SM-6 (mid-atmospheric terminal intercept) and Patriot PAC-3 MSE/ERINT (medium to low altitude terminal intercept.) Japan won’t benefit from THAAD, but has several of its own destroyers armed with the SM-3 and can thus provide more for its own defense - and North Korea has far fewer MRBM/IRBMs capable of ranging Japan in the first place, and they’re larger, easier-to-find targets to begin with, making it very unlikely they’ll preserve enough assets through the initial strike to overwhelm even our limited ABM capacity as it currently stands.

It Is All Bullshit, My Friend

This is just the tip of the iceberg. Much, much, much more goes into planning a war than just this; there’s logistics, turnaround time, the need for redundancy (multiple weapon strikes for a single target, weapon duds, necessary re-strikes, Bomb Damage Assessment, the difficulty of coordinating Time on Target, communicating with/preparing one’s allies without telegraphing the blow, and so on,) but that just goes to show the most basic claims against counter-force strike that you’ve been fed by the media and the academics outright ignore known, tested military capabilities. This goes beyond saying “we can’t find TELs because we couldn’t do it 27 years ago in Desert Storm.” It requires ignoring seventeen years of hunting down elusive enemies in the mountainous and heavily-tunneled terrain of Afghanistan. This level of ignorance is willful and deliberate. When the existence of entire classes of weaponry and indeed, the staggeringly vast power-projection/deep strike ability of the United States is flatly and out-right ignored, one may well ask if a deliberate attempt to influence public opinion via lies (of omission or otherwise) is underway.

None of this means that I am right, of course - that argument will have to stand on its own merits. But I can assure you that the arguments you’ve been fed are laughably, blatantly wrong.

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