#hugh langley

[basicallyanotherwitchesthing]

Noel Langley, Hugh Lynn Cayce - Edgar Cayce on Reincarnation - Howard Baker - 1969

[howdy-cowpoke]

TIMING: Promptly following ‘Horse those Shoes’ LOCATION: Prickly Pear Acres PARTIES: Monty (@howdy-cowpoke), Kaden (@chasseurdeloup), & Wynne (@ohwynne) SUMMARY: Wynne rushes after Kaden and Monty to free the horses from the burning stable. CONTENT WARNINGS: animal death

—

The raucous voices died down, and for the few short seconds between joy and panic, time stretched on in a silent, airless vacuum. Monty’s gaze was drawn toward a flickering source of light, the golden-orange glow reflecting in his dark eyes as he followed its path up the side of one of the barns. Smoke billowed into the sky, nearly imperceptible in the dark. 

There was a shout. He blinked, shaking his head. Another shout. More light, more hissing flames, licking at the base of a different building. He couldn’t quite comprehend what he was seeing, trapped in a state of shock as the fire grew. “... oh,” he breathed, suddenly coming back into himself. His voice was ripped from his throat, lost in the cacophony of screams that started up as more people started to realize what was going on. 

He thought of Habanero, held hostage in his own stall. He felt sick. His feet were moving before he even made the conscious decision to run, abandoning his party guests to sprint to the horse stables. The same fear that had held him in a vice grip that night of the slaughter threatened to close its fist around his throat again now, but that was okay. He didn’t need to breathe, after all. 

Shouldering his way through the doors, Monty burst onto a terrifying scene. Fire everywhere, eating them from the outside in. Horses reared in their stalls, shrieking in terror as the heat of the fire threatened to singe their manes and tails. The farmer did not stop, going to the nearest stall first: Taro’s. He ripped open the latch and flung open the door, shouting at the animal before moving on to the next. Manzanita, then Habanero. Romero and Pimienta—their cries were the loudest before falling completely silent, and Monty could not force himself to look longer than a few seconds. They were lost. He let Manzanita loose, shouting to scare her out the way he’d come, then got into Habanero’s stall. The stallion was kicking and swinging his head around, and Monty struggled to get a handle on his mane. He gave a command in Spanish and the horse attempted to listen, calming himself enough to be dragged out of the stall as the hay caught fire. “¡Vamos a salir de aquí, vamonos!” Monty bellowed as he threw himself onto the animal’s back, scrambling to get properly seated in a graceless panic. It was then that he realized wasn’t alone—Kaden and Wynne had intercepted the two other horses as they’d come bursting out of the burning stable. 

What did he do? Where did they go? There were so many more to save, so many—

—

The smell of fire reminded them of home for a short moment. Celebrations were always combined with fire, after all — with candles and bonfires, crackling and warm. But this was not the kind of fire that came with celebration, even if that was what they were all here for. Wynne fought memories of dancing around a fire as sounds of panicked people joined the fray and now they were no longer at Moosehead, but thinking of the barn that Zack had set on fire. 

Their legs moved before their mind did, rushing to the stable they were nearest to. It didn’t make sense, what was happening, but it wasn’t part of the party program, that they knew. What they knew as well, was that the stables held animals and that they would be damned before letting the fire get to them. (Their mind traveled to sacrifices made onto an open fire.) 

From the stable burst a horse, then another and they rushed towards the smaller one. Someone else, in the periphery of their vision went for the other horse. Wynne did not remember its name, but they did recognize the hunter rushing to the horse — Kaden! They wanted to shout something but did not know what, so instead they met Taro head on, not cooing about how big the horse had gotten but instead trying to calm it, trying to get it to trust them as they shushed at it, extending their hands and taking hold of their mane.

They hadn’t been riding as regularly as they had once had, but muscle memory and adrenaline were particularly useful in moments like these, so they took hold of the manes, vowed to apologize to Taro later for pulling at them and swung themself onto the horse. Their eyes were frantic as they looked at Kaden, who had interrupted the other horse, and then grew even wider in size at the sight of Monty exiting the barn on his horse. “Where do we go?” Their voice was louder than they had anticipated it to be. They held onto the end of Taro’s mane, not certain enough of what was happening to take the lead.

—

Kaden couldn’t say if he heard, saw, or smelled the fire first. It was like it all hit him at once, slowing time and sending it racing ahead somehow simultaneously. He didn’t know what was happening, he couldn’t quite fit the pieces of the puzzle together, but he did know where Monty was headed. Without a word or a second glance, he knew that the cowboy was running into the stables and Kaden was running right behind him. If anything had been in the way, he hadn’t noticed, dodging around it, ignoring any of the shouts and commotion in the meantime. He knew his partner was laser focused on getting to the stables and so, in turn, he was headed to the exact same place. 

He didn’t know what he expected to see once he followed through the doors, his mind racing with the memories of the last time they’d sprinted in here in a blind panic, but he hoped it would be okay. Or something as close to that as it could be while the flames licked at the walls and consumed the dry hay all around them, while the horses screamed and thrashed at their stalls in fear. He told himself that the fact they were alive and screaming was a good sign. It was hard to believe that while the smoke threatened to cloud his lungs. 

“Monty!” he shouted before pulling his shirt up to cover his mouth, to try and keep the stinging out of his eyes and nose. The only answer he got was the sight of Manzanita and Taro tearing out of the barn doors. Merde. “Woah,” he shouted, putting his hands up in the air to try and calm the amber coated horse enough to keep her in place for just a second while he got his bearings. 

Putain, right, there were two horses here. And Monty surely had Habanero to deal with. Panic seized Kaden as he looked around for an answer — a lead or a rope or another person or… 

Wynne. 

The relief he felt seeing them swing themselves onto Taro was short lived given everything happening around them. There was no time. Kaden pulled himself onto Manzanita’s back, glad that he was more than familiar riding her at this point. He wasn’t used to riding bareback with no reins, no sense of control, but he could feel that the animal trusted him despite the fear burning in her belly. 

Monty joined them, tearing out of the barn on the back of the bay stallion. And Kaden realized he was waiting to see Romero and Pimienta joining them. Only there were no more hooves clip-clopping after the cowboy, just screaming in the barn behind him. Kaden clamped down on the emotions rising up like bile. The other two on their horses were looking around, darting and trying to figure out what was next. It was on him. He was going to tell them what was next. He could do this. He had to be calm for all six of them. 

The hunter’s eyes darted around them, chaos and fire were everywhere. The whole thing sounded far too familiar, just like that night months ago when the slaughter occurred. He couldn’t think about that now. Right now, he had to find the path ahead. “This way,” he shouted as he egged Manzanita on, doing what he could to help steer her through the people and flames up towards the high ground across the way. He hoped that Wynne and Monty were close behind. And that they didn’t get distracted by the chaos along the way. They could cut back to help the rest once the horses were safe. They could, right? They had to. That was the plan. He had a plan. There had to be a plan.

—

Three. Just three. There was a terrible ringing in his ears as Monty took in the frightful scene around them, watching as livestock spilled out onto the farm, set loose from their barns by other farm hands but with no one to guide them. He followed Kaden’s command, glad that the hunter had his wits about him enough to direct them. The sheep and cows that were closest to them and spotted the three figures on horseback were quick to follow after them. 

“We need to get the far gate open!” Monty shouted over the chaos. It was in the direction they were headed, if they took a hard left once they crested the hill. He kicked his heels into Habanero’s sides, gripping the stallion’s mane and keeping himself bent low. Riding bareback was not new to him — back then, back when things were so very, very different, his family had not been able to afford saddles for their horses. It was always just a blanket draped over their back and a bond of trust formed with the animal that would allow them to be guided by their mane alone. Such a bond existed between Monty and Habanero now, so the cowboy had no trouble using his steed to round up the livestock that were flocking to them and drive them down the left side of the hill toward the road. 

“Hold this position,” he said to Kaden and Wynne as he rode up between them, finally feeling his fear turn to determination and pointing toward the perimeter fence. “They will follow. Let the livestock run free, we can — we can gather them later. I will go get the gate open!” With another shout and nudge of his heels, he and Habanero were galloping down the hill toward the fence. The zombie tried to lose as little momentum as possible as he dismounted and half sprinted, half fell towards the gate, unlatching it in one fluid motion and throwing it open with his body weight. He whistled for Habanero, pushing the gate all the way open and catching the horse again as he came to a stop in front of him. “Good boy, there, it’s okay,” he tried to comfort the animal, rubbing his neck as he watched Wynne and Kaden come tearing down the hill after him, a small flock of animals in tow. They burst through the opening and spilled out onto the road, many of the animals continuing their flight either down the road toward the Pines or into neighboring fields. It was okay, as long as they were away from the fire. 

—

Animals died. This was a truth Wynne had been confronted with before they formed memories — such was the life on a farm. There were baby chickens that didn’t make it to adulthood and those that did, only to be killed and eaten all the same. There were those cyclical deaths that were part of organic life, but there were also those creatures laid on an altar to die. Those that wailed when their throats were slit or twisted. The horses left in the barn sounded similar to them and it was hard to shut either of the sounds out – both that of memory and that of what was happening at present.

Taro’s instinct was a driving force as much as their panic, and the pair followed Kaden. Animals died, but some lived, and they would make sure Taro would be one of them. Perhaps the sheep and cows would too. Once Monty appeared on Habanero, looking so very in place on top of a horse, they did not doubt one second when he told them and Kaden to wait. It seemed counterintuitive to hold when there was fire at their backs and two panicked animals beneath them, but this was Monty’s farm, and they had always responded well to authority. It seemed there were some situations where blind compliance was a good thing.

Wynne looked over their shoulder fretfully as their fingers drew circles on Taro’s neck, eyes dancing over the large number of animals following Kaden and them — or more likely, the horses they were riding. They tried not to think about all the people on the farm. Ariadne was there but hopefully she'd find her way out through the astral, though instinct told them that she'd not so soon abandon the farm. But there was nothing they could do now, was there? They had chosen to rush to the horses and now their goal was clear as day: to get these animals away from the licking flames. When they looked ahead again, they saw Monty had opened the gate and glanced at Kaden, “Let’s go,” they said, sounding more determined than they felt.

Taro was quick to get back into action and Wynne was glad that the young horse was so clever and hadn’t thrown them off his back yet, even if they had never ridden her before and the world was a place that warranted panic. All of them rushed down the hill, pouring out into the world beyond Prickly Pears and Taro followed the sheep before Wynne tugged at his mane, “C’mon, we need to —” They looked over their shoulder, trying to steer Taro to Monty at the side of the road. Eventually the three of them reconvened, the smells of sheep and fire mingling. “What do we do now? What about the other – we should — why is there fire?”

—

Waiting was hard. Not just for Kaden, but Manzanita, too. She wanted to get away from the danger, go as far away as possible and he couldn’t blame her. The ranger was thankful that the mare was good natured enough to stay and to listen. It felt like an eternity waiting for Monty to swing the gate open, even though he was a blur on the way there. The smoke kept getting thicker and darker, the screaming was louder and as the buildings began to collapse and the world seemed to be falling apart all around them, the chaos only grew. Kaden knew that meant he had to remain steady. He had to hold on and not just to the horse.

The mare was practically dancing on her toes by the time the gate swung open. Kaden nodded for Wynne to head through. There were some sheep and goats screeching down the way, not far off from the gate. They had no idea where to go or what to do, only to go away from the fire. The hunter took a deep breath and hoped that the mare he had helped bring to this farm all those months ago would help get some more of the animals to freedom. His heart sank as he thought about that first day, the sight of her running through that gate behind him and into the pasture, how it looked like freedom. There was no freedom left for her here, not for any of them. The only freedom was out, was away. 

Kaden couldn’t think about that now. He had to act now. “Head forward, through the gate!” he shouted to Wynne as he egged Manzanita back down towards the straggling livestock. He wasn’t a cowboy by any means and he was nowhere near as skilled on horseback as his partner, but he was good enough to clumsily round up a couple of the other animals. He shouted, tried to steer them in the right direction and he managed to get a few of them to start following Wynne. 

It wasn’t enough. They couldn’t save them all. Kaden couldn’t think about that now. It had to be enough. He shot through the gate and met up with Wynne. The road wasn’t far and he could see people panicked, scrambling and cars squealing away. Some of the hands were trying to help find some sort of calm in the midst of it all, but it was nothing but panic. Once they were close, Kaden slid off Manzanita’s back and pulled out his belt to use it as a makeshift lead draped gently around her neck. 

Wynne’s question was the same as his: what now? What next? He looked back down to where the farm was being consumed by flames and a realization stabbed him in the chest. He set his eyes on his partner and he knew without a doubt that he wasn’t going to stay there on the road with the rest. Not yet. “I’ll do what I can here,” he said with a nod, trying to keep his voice from asking. “You get the rest.” Even if he wasn’t sure if there was any “rest,” if there were more animals and people that could be saved. He knew Monty would have to try.  

“Start getting names, we’ll figure out who’s missing. We’ll get ropes or belts for something to hold the horses and try to herd any of the animals we can. Get people to calm down,” he said to Wynne, laying out the plan as much for him as he was for them. “We’ll go from there.” He hoped it would be enough. 

—

Wynne asked why there was fire, and Monty couldn’t bring himself to answer. It was the same reason he could hear screams on the wind, the same reason he was pretty sure he’d heard a gunshot as he’d kicked in the door on Habanero’s stall. He just blinked, his fear catching up to him for a moment while Kaden spoke. Shaking his head, Monty squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, then nodded. “Sí. Okay. Wynne—you stay here, help Kaden. I will go find Aria, and I will send her this way.” He gave their shoulder a squeeze, his throat tight as he turned his attention to Kaden again. He looked for all the world like he was about to break down, but instead only clenched his jaw and blinked again. “Thank you,” he managed to force out, rocking forward onto his toes to give him a brief but poignant kiss. In case… the worst happened. It wasn’t an impossibility. 

With that, Monty turned back around and ran through the open gate and back up the hill toward the main house, redirecting anyone he saw along the way to the road where he’d left Kaden and Wynne. He spotted Aria in the distance and breathed a sigh of relief, hurrying in her direction. He needed to get the dogs out of the house just beyond her, and hopefully she could guide them to the road for him. He’d make as many trips as he could until someone forced him to stay behind, or he’d die trying to save his people and his animals. He knew that. Kaden knew that. It was the reason he’d thanked him — it wasn’t an easy choice, but he’d known well enough to make it while there was still time. While there was still hope. 

“Mija!” he called to the girl, waving a hand in the air. Thank god she was still okay.

[neil-gaiman]

hi neil! sorry to bother you with an ask you probably get a lot, but how do you make your writing captivating to read? I have a decent plot and some nice characters, but i feel like my writing is still very bland, and it's not doing the concept justice. there are a lot of books that are an absolute joy to read because of how wonderful the actual writing is, and i'm wondering how one goes about adding that element to their writing.

neil fans pls don't angry dm me like last time, that was really weird

A lot of it is experience. Do it enough and you will. As with anything— learning to play the piano, say — you are going to get more accomplished as you do it. That being said, some things you can learn. And one way to learn those things is to copy.

Find authors with recognisable and delightful styles, whose work you love, reread them and then try writing a paragraph in their style. Pretend to be Dickens or Ray Bradbury, PL Travers or e e cummings and see what happens. See what you do with words.

My first book (unpublished and not very good) doesn’t read like me at all. It reads like a weird mixture of Noel Langley and Hugh Lofting and Roald Dahl. But there is a page about 3/4 of the way through that reads just like me.

[goalhofer]

2024-25 Vancouver Canucks roster

Wingers

#6 Brock Boeser (Burnsville, Minnesota)

#8 Conor Garland (Scituate, Massachusetts)

#9 J.T. Miller (Unity Township, Ohio) A

#20 Danton Heinen (Langley, British Columbia)*

#21 Nils Höglander (Sorsele Kommun, Sweden)

#23 Jonathan Lekkerimäki (Huddinge Kommun, Sweden)**

#44 Kiefer Sherwood (Columbus, Ohio)*

#74 Jake DeBrusk (Edmonton, Alberta)*

Centers

#24 Pius Suter (Wallisellen, Switzerland)

#40 Fredrik Pettersson (Sundsvall Stad, Sweden) A

#53 Teddy Bļugers (Riga, Latvia)

#54 Aatu Räty (Oulu, Finland)**

#81 Dakota Joshua (Dearborn, Michigan)

Defensemen

#7 Carson Soucy (Wainwright Municipality, Alberta)

#17 Filip Hronek (Hradec Králové, Czech Republic)

#26 Erik Brännström (Eksjö Stad, Sweden)*

#27 Derek Forbort (Duluth, Minnesota)*

#43 Quinn Hughes (Manchester, New Hampshire) C

#47 Noah Juulsen (Abbotsford, British Columbia)

#57 Tyler Myers (Calgary, Alberta)

#73 Vincent Desharnais (Laval, Quebec)*

Goalies

#31 Artūrs Šilovs (Ventspils, Latvia)

#32 Kevin Lankinen (Helsinki, Finland)*

#35 Thatcher Demko (San Diego, California)

[fahrni]

Saturday Morning Coffee

Good morning from Charlottesville, Virginia! ☕️

We got another 10in of snow this week promptly followed by warmer temperatures and rain that almost eliminated it over night. There’s still patches of snow on the ground.

This week we’re expected to get a foot of snow from Wednesday to Thursday. It’s been a stranger that usual weather year this year.

Enjoy the links and the ravings of a mad man. 😆

Jason Koebler • 404 Media

The doge.gov website that was spun up to track Elon Musk’s cuts to the federal government is insecure and pulls from a database that can be edited by anyone, according to two separate people who found the vulnerability and shared it with 404 Media. One coder added at least two database entries that are visible on the live site and say “this is a joke of a .gov site” and “THESE ‘EXPERTS’ LEFT THEIR DATABASE OPEN -roro.”

Why isn’t this in a section called Politics? Because it’s about a serious security flaw in a government computing center (maybe it’s just a server setup in someone’s closet?)

The scary thing is the kids working for DOGE — henceforth known as DODGY — have access to all kinds of personal information about you. OpSec folks must be going bonkers right now? 🤡

Kelly Crandall • Racer

Spire Motorsports has to win in the NASCAR Cup Series this year.

Spire started as a very small team. Just one driver, Corey LaJoie. They eventually added a second driver and a couple years back got a huge investment of cash. They now have three drivers and are all in to becoming a top tier team. They signed longtime Cup driver Michael McDowell, Justin Haley was brought in to replace Corey LaJoie and they have last year’s rookie of the year Carson Hocevar. In other words, they’re stacked. I would expect each of them to have at least one win this year.

Nick Hodges • InfoWorld

Just say no to JavaScript

This headline is, of course, there to get you to rage click it and go read the article. 😃

So, please, click the link and go read it. Nick is an excellent software engineer and has years and years of “in the trenches” experience to share.

This article is mainly about the benefits of writing maintainable, easy to read and understand, code. It’s something I encourage everyone I work with to do. It’s smart.

The TL;DR is use a TypeScript instead of JavaScript so you get better type checking. Take advantage of it and make your code easier to maintain all at the same time. Smart. 😃

Jyoti Mann, Pranav Dixit, and Hugh Langley • Business Insider

Several Meta employees who said they received positive performance ratings in their mid-year reviews last year had their jobs cut Monday, as the company let go of nearly 4,000 workers in its latest round of job reductions.

Companies don’t need an excuse to let you go. California is an at will state (I’m not sure if folks in other states were let go) but that doesn’t help the poor folks who lost their jobs.

Look, Zuck is the CEO of a company created to make money and please shareholders. I hate to be so blunt but that’s Capitalism.

I know the CEO of TELUS would do the exact same thing to cut our bottom line if needed.

Do I want to lose my job? HELL NO! Do I realize it’s possible? Yes, yes I do.

I hope each and every one of these folks scores much better jobs. After all, I still believe Zuck is a sociopath and Facebook is a terrible company.

Jay Peters and Alex Heath • The Verge

TikTok is back in the Google Play Store for Android users in the US, and soon it will be available on the iPhone, too.

This seems risky to me, but I guess if the folks tasked with enforcing the law say it’s ok to break it, you should just break it? 😳

I hope this doesn’t come back to bite them. I’d also like to see a better solution to this whole TikTok mess.

Jerry Fahrni

Recently I’ve found myself thinking about the state of pharmacy technology. Why? Simple, really. I’m bored and have been doing a little extracurricular reading. Not to mention that a few things have popped up here and there to pique my interest. It’s not one single piece of technology but rather a collection of technologies and interactions I’ve had over the past 18 months.

I love reading my brothers stuff but he hasn’t been very active since he went back to Pharmacy work full time, now as a Pharmacy Director. He’s one of the smartest folks I know and he has amazing ideas on how to improve pharmacy in the hospital.

It’s nice to see him writing again and I hope he keeps it up.

Phil

It’s frequently stated[by who?] that some core components of the AT-Protocol architecture are expensive to host and don’t scale down. So expensive that they are out of reach reach except for VC-funded commercial companies like Bluesky PBC, and expensive due to the structure of the protocol itself. Very non-decentralized.

I must confess, AT Protocol is a mystery to me. I cannot wrap my pea brain around exactly what it is and how to implement it.

This piece is about how Phil used a Raspberry Pi to do some AT Protocol stuff. Even though I don’t get it I find this encouraging. 😀

Jess Weatherbed • The Verge

Some Apple TV 4K users in the US are being prompted to connect their Netflix accounts to the Apple TV app. This would appear to signal an end to the streaming service’s longtime refusal to have its content aggregated into third-party platforms.

This prompted me to ask the CEO of our household if I could purchase a new Apple TV. My CEO was not impressed with my justification so we’ll continue to use the Roku built into our TV. 🤣

I need to some reading on the current state of Roku technology. I’d like a box that aggregates all streaming service (like Apple TV) so I can search in one spot. If Roku does that we can stay with them. I just wish they didn’t collect so much data about us. 😞

Issy Ronald • CNN

Buried deep in a Welsh landfill, beneath layers of years-old garbage, there is a hard drive that holds the key to almost $800 million in bitcoin – or so James Howells believes, after accidentally throwing the drive away in 2013.

That drive is dead my friend. It’s been underground for 12-years, buried under heaps of trash that were exposed to the elements until it was finally covered over. I can’t see how it would survive the damp even if placed in a hardened container much less a plastic bag.

Would I love to see a miracle of some sort? Yes, I would! The odds are long against him.

Kevin Purdy • Ars Technica

One of the things enterprise storage and destruction company Iron Mountain does is handle the archiving of the media industry’s vaults. What it has been seeing lately should be a wake-up call: roughly one-fifth of the hard disk drives dating to the 1990s it was sent are entirely unreadable.

Speaking of hard drives. This is pretty sobering. Atoms and bits rot. Keep moving that data around if you’d like to keep it. I have CD backups of stuff I’ve moved around. I wonder if those darned things are still readable? 🤔

Jay Peters • The Verge

Square Enix has shut down the iOS version of Final Fantasy Crystal Chronicles and removed it from the App Store following an unfixable bug that blocked people from accessing content they had paid for.

I don’t believe this. I can’t accept this is unfixable. The more likely story it’s not worth fixing because the fix would require upgrading the software to current versions of frameworks or something like that and they don’t want to spend the money on the effort. That I would accept. 😁

[hoodoverhollywood]

Google employees respond after company drops its promise on AI weapons: 'Are we the baddies?'

exclusive Google employees respond after company drops its promise on AI weapons: ‘Are we the baddies?’ Hugh Langley 2025-02-05T20:00:48Z Share icon An curved arrow pointing right. Share Facebook Email X LinkedIn Copy Link lighning bolt icon An icon in the shape of a lightning bolt. Impact Link Save Article Icon A bookmark Save Read in app Google CEO Sundar…

[wilmingtoncrp]

Ariya Ireshi Chakri-Langley

Jayden Lucas

Shane Hughes

Taylor Montero

[usafphantom2]

Raytheon Trophy

The Raytheon Trophy, awarded annually since 1953, is given to the top air-superiority or air-defense squadron in the Air Force. Formerly known as the Hughes Trophy or Hughes Achievement Award, as originally sponsored by Hughes Aircraft Company, is now sponsored by the Raytheon Company after the company purchased Hughes Electronics in 1997.

Units are graded on air defense and air superiority mission performance, operational mission performance, organizational readiness inspection results, training exercise participation, unit achievements and awards, individual achievements and awards and unit incentive programs. Initially, only Fighter Intercept units could participate but in 1970 the competition was opened to any squadron performing air defense as their primary mission.

In 1963, the Air Force reclaimed the first trophy from the deactivated 58th FIS and the original trophy is continuously is passed along each year.

After the Eagle entered service in 1976 it won it’s first Trophy in 1979 with the 32nd Tactical Fighter Squadron “Wolfhounds” at Soesterberg AB. Since then the F-15 has won 32 times up to 2015.

Raytheon Trophy Winners

1953 58th FIS, Otis AFB, Mass. F-94C

1954 96th FIS, New Castle County Airport, Del. F-94C

1955 496th FIS, Landstuhl AB, West Germany F-86D

1956 317th FIS, McChord AFB, Wash. F-86D/F-102A

1957 512th FIS, RAF Bentwaters, UK F-86D

1958 31st FIS, Elmendorf AFB, Alaska F-102A

1959 54th FIS, Ellsworth AFB, S.D. F-89J

1960 460th FIS, Portland Arpt., Ore. F-102A

1961 83rd FIS, Hamilton AFB, Calif. F-101B

1962 444th FIS, Charleston AFB, S.C. F-101B

1963 497th FIS, Torrejon AB, Spain F-102A

1964 329th FIS, George AFB, Calif. F-106A/B

1965 317th FIS, Elmendorf AFB, Alaska F-102A

1966 32nd FIS, Soesterberg AB, Netherlands F-102A

1967 317th FIS, Elmendorf AFB, Alaska F-106A/B

1968 64th FIS, Clark AB, Philippines F-102A

1969 71st FIS, Malmstrom AFB, Mont. F-106A/B

1970 57th FIS, NAS Keflavik, Iceland F-102A

1971 48th FIS, Langley AFB, Va. F-106A/B

1972 43rd TFS, Elmendorf AFB, Alaska F-4E

1973 555th TFS, Udorn RTAB, Thailand F-4D

1974 119th FIG (ANG), Hector Field, N.D. F-101B

1975 318th FIS, McChord AFB, Wash. F-106A/B

1976 57th FIS, NAS Keflavik, Iceland F-4C

1977 43rd TFS, Elmendorf AFB, Alaska F-4E

1978 49th FIS, GriffissAFB, N.Y. F-106A/B

1979 32nd TFS, Soesterberg AB, Netherlands F-15A/B

1980 32nd TFS, Soesterberg AB, Netherlands F-15A/B

1981 12th TFS, Kadena AB, Japan F-15C/D

1982 44th TFS, Kadena AB, Japan F-15C/D

1983 67th TFS, Kadena AB, Japan F-15C/D

1984 318th FIS, McChord AFB, Wash. F-15A/B

1985 120th FIG (ANG), Great Falls Arpt., Mont. F-106A/B

1986 67th TFS, Kadena AB, Japan F-15C/D

1987 57th FIS, NAS Keflavik, Iceland F-15C/D

1988 22nd TFS, Bitburg AB, West Germany F-15C/D

1989 67th TFS, Kadena AB, Japan F-15C/D

1990 58th TFS, Eglin AFB, Fla. F-15C/D

1991 58th TFS, Eglin AFB, Fla. F-15C/D

1992 59th FS, Eglin AFB, Fla. F-15C/D

1993 71st FS, Langley AFB, Va. F-15C

1994 178th FS (ANG), Hector Arpt., N.D. F-16A/B

1995 27th FS, Langley AFB, Va. F-15C/D

1996 60th FS, Eglin AFB, Fla. F-15C/D

1997 493rd FS, RAF Lakenheath, UK F-15C

1998 71st FS, Langley AFB, Va. F-15C/D

1999 493rd FS, RAF Lakenheath, UK F-15C

2000 19th FS, Elmendorf AFB, Alaska F-15C/D

2001 71st FS, Langley AFB, Va. F-15C/D

2002 27th FS, Langley AFB, Va. F-15C/D

2003 67th FS, KadenaAB, Japan F-15C

2004 60th FS, Eglin AFB, Fla. F-15C/D

2005 71st FS, Langley AFB, Va. F-15C/D

2006 12th FS, Elmendorf AFB, Alaska F-15C/D

2007 493rd FS, RAF Lakenheath, UK F-15C/D

2008 179th FS (ANG), Duluth IAP, Minn. F-16C

2009 19th FS, Elmendorf AFB, Alaska F-15C/D

2010 27st FS, Langley AFB, Va. F-22A

2011 67th FS, KadenaAB, Japan F-15C

2012 44th FS, KadenaAB, Japan F-15C

2013 67th FS, KadenaAB, Japan F-15C

2014 493rd FS, RAF Lakenheath, UK F-15C/D

2015 95th FS, Tyndall AFB, FL F-22A

2016 493rd FS, RAF Lakenheath, UK F-15C/D

2017 492nd FS, RAF Lakenheath, UK F-15E

2018 494th FS, RAF Lakenheath, UK F-15E

2019 493rd FS, RAF Lakenheath, UK F-15C/D

2020 79th FS, Shaw AFB, SC F-16C/D

2021 525th FS, Elmendorf AFB, AK F-22A

2022 335th FS, Seymour-Johnson AFB, N.C. F-15E

12th TFS Dirty Dozen group photo winning the Hughes Trophy 1981 at Kadena AB, Japan

Dr. Lawrence A. Hyland presents the Hughes Trophy Award 1980 to Col. Delauter 32nd Tactical Fighter Squadron Commander at a ceremony at Soesterberg AB. The 32nd TFS won the Hughes Trophy for the second year in a row (1980)

Wes Kramer, Raytheon Missile Systems president, (left) presents the Raytheon Trophy to Lt Col. Jaina L. Donberg, 494th Fighter Squadron commander, and Gen. Jeff L. Harrigian, U.S. Air Forces in Europe- Air Forces Africa commander, at Duxford Imperial War Museum, Cambridge, England, Aug. 31, 2019. The Raytheon Trophy is an Air Force-wide accomplishment awarded to the top FS based on air superiority or air defense. (U.S. Air Force photo by Airman 1st Class Madeline Herzog)

The Grim Reapers celebrate during the 2014 Raytheon Trophy presentation May 29, 2015. The 493rd Fighter Squadron received the trophy as the U.S. Air Force’s top fighter squadron. (U.S. Air Force photo by Tech Sgt. Eric Burks/Released)

From left, Col. Robert Novotny, 48th Fighter Wing commander, Gen. Frank Gorenc, U.S. Air Forces in Europe and Air Forces Africa commander, Lt. Col. John Stratton, 493rd Fighter Squadron commander, and Lt. Gen. Darryl Roberson, 3rd Air Force and 17th Expeditionary Air Force commander, gather for a photo following the presentation of the 2014 Raytheon Trophy to the 493rd FS during a celebration May 29, 2015.

@Sky

[salty-stories]

In Love and Friendship, you play as a young lady named Miss Merritt, a veteran of Regency society. The season--a period of year designated for arguably excessive social interaction and wasteful displays of wealth and status--is yours for the commanding. Decide how you want to spend the next few months among society’s richest, well-sculpted upper echelon. Though the outcome of the season may determine the rest of your life. 

Miss (determinable first name) Merritt

A Young Lady

Miss Merritt is one and twenty years of age, embarking on her fifth season in town or London. Being a single child to two well-off parents, growing up in large and covetous property in the countryside, has afforded her the lifestyle to pursue those attributes considered nonnegotiable among respectable young women. And while the Merritt’s hold no title, they are highly regarded as one of the older, settled families in society. 

This season holds particular merit as most young ladies are expected to be attached or actively engaged in searching for a life partner by their third season. Miss Merritt has let that aspect of herself languish in favor of cultivating her skills and experience. But the external pressures do not come alone. A cunning ploy orchestrated by one of the Merritt’s closest(in blood, not attitude) relations threatens to wrest control the Merritt estate unless the young lady can find herself a suitable match by the season’s end. 

“What’s a lady to do?” 

“why...follow her heart.”

Samantha Renolds

The Childhood Best-friend

Growing up only a half or so from mc’s home in Easton, Sam is Miss Merritt’s first and closest friend. The pair have been nearly inseparable since infancy, engaging in all sorts of mischief and fun as they’ve grown. Sam can be quiet and rather shy, which made her the perfect partner in crime. The pair got up to all sorts of mischief; sneaking away during events, playing the piano-forte in a crowded assembly room, sipping stolen brandy as teens, etc. Not without getting into trouble, of course. While Sam would eventually admit her involvement, most of the time, Miss Merritt took the fall for their shenanigans. The relationship deepened to the point, Sam held off her own debut a year to align with Miss Merritt’s. But the merry times ended rather suddenly with Mrs. Renold’s illness. The family was forced to leave England and seek treatment abroad. This season will be the first time in over five years that the two will have spoken as correspondence to the continent was spotty and Sam seemed to neglect all of Miss Merritt’s letters. There’s no telling what remains of their friendship after such a gap, if anything at all.

Despite only being a year older than Miss Merritt, Sam stands nearly a head taller than her friend. Although her golden waves draw more attention from others than her height. If one were to peer even closer, they’d be struck by the openness of her light-brown eyes and the fullness of her smile. 

Lord Warren Hind

The Roguish Rake

Very few can fascinate and repulse in such equal measure as London’s most infamous, Lord Warren Hind. A second son, no one actually expected Warren to ever hold the title. But the mysterious and sudden death of his elder brother a few years prior has shaken the order of things, leaving behind a solemn widow and infant. Before taking his brother’s position, Warren was known as unashamed flirt, a man for whom all pleasures, carnality included, were welcomed with reckless abandon. Rumors range from his deflowering of several fresh-faced debutantes to swindling thousands of pounds from London’s seediest gambling parlor. Though even the most stanchest of his detractors admit the Lord as been quiet, almost sullen, as of late. To the dismay of wagging tongues, Lord Hind may be better behaved than his reputation claims. 

Wicked green eyes, that accounts for much of the speculation surrounding Warren. But it’s rather unfair to the rest of his equally attractive features, his causally tousled brown locks, his slightly athletic tanned build, his vulpine smile. But with baggage like that, who wouldn’t abandon Regency-sanctioned good sense and take a second look. 

Vivian Fortescue

The Jaded Widow

Vivian’s story is harder to tell. While many in society know her, her family, her husbands(oh yes, plural!) for many years, no one can claim a particular closeness to the thrice-now widow. The charitable bleeding-hearts pity her; to marry and settle down, only to lose it all, again and again. The petty and envious whisper conspiracy and concoct extreme theories, blackmail, murder, and affairs. Everything and anything outlandish enough to erase her unfortunate tragedy. Although one does wonder...three husbands dead in succession. Three very rich, very influential husbands dead. Vivian, for her part, seems indifferent to society’s speculation and grieves, well, maybe a little too much. Since the death of her third and final husband two years ago, Vivian has worn nothing but mourning colors. More ammunition for the charitable and the petty to pick apart. As for the lady herself, no one is close enough to know the truth.

No one in court has the gumption to get close enough to look Mrs. Fortescue in the eye, to peer beneath the black of her lace mourning veil. But if one was brave, one might note the slight curve of her mouth, the sharpness of her dark--near black eyes, the strength behind her stature, the gravity of her voice. But, of course, society only has their eyes on her dress, her black wardrobe colored only by the deepest shades of purple, red, and green. 

Hugh Langley (Platonic Friendship Interest)

The Red Herring Dandy

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. Hugh Langley is not. Not in a way that matters, but that won’t stop the hoards of mothers springing their daughters upon him. His income, his family history, his address, all up for public discussion, it seems. The Langleys did not come into their riches through exploitation of tenant farmers but rather through...trade. A horrid concept to the more traditional heads in Regency. But it was Hugh’s grandfather that did the hard labor of building the family business. All Hugh has to worry about is picking which shade of maroon his cravat should be, that and making sure his income doesn’t disappear with neglect. Now he wants to get through the season without entangling himself with someone he cannot stand, and maybe have some fun, if he can find a moment of peace.

A stranger might describe Hugh as a not-so young man in his early-thirties with dark brown skin, effortlessly braided black hair, and striking blue eyes. But a friend could tell you about his obsession with red-colored clothes, or the small scar on his upper lip he hides with his facial hair, or how his cane is more than just a fashion statement. 

PLAY THE GAME HERE

[girlfriendofwinchesters]

Girls don't want boyfriends, girls want fanfic's with these two together

same energy and daddy vibes!

[cheeseburgersstuff]

Not to spoil anything but... 👀😂😂

I just watched fierce people 👀🤷‍♀️🤣🤣🤣

[basicallyanotherwitchesthing]

Noel Langley - Edgar Cayce On Reincarnation - Warner Books - 1967

[phillipsgraves]

i was tagged by @honesthearts and @deandomino to make my ocs on this site!

i’m not sure who’s done this already so feel free to do this if you want and please @ me!!

sapphira (vtmb) • isidora (vtmb) margo (la noire) • damien (la noire) marshall (la noire) • morgana (m3) amelia (twc) • ada (star trek)

[equatorjournal]

Breakfast on location for Hugh Miles, 1978. From "The making of The living planet" by Andrew Langley, 1985. https://www.instagram.com/p/Cf6_MeatoZa/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[skyfire85]

-An ASM-135 slung beneath an F-15A on a captive carry flight. | Photo USAF/Edwards Flight Test Center

FLIGHTLINE: 99 - ASM-135 Anti-satellite Missile

On 13 September 1985 F-15A 76-0084 launched an ASM-135 ASAT which destroyed a satellite in orbit.

Almost immediately after the launch of the USSR's Sputnik satellite, the US began to research anti-satellite weapons. On 13 October 1959, a USAF B-47 launched a modified Bold Orion ALBM which passed within 4 miles of the Explorer 6 satellite, orbiting at an altitude of 156 miles. Starting in 1962, modified Nike Zeus ABMs were tested as ASAT weapons under Project MUDFLAP, with mixed results. Intelligence reports of renewed Soviet interest in their own anti-satellite system pressured President Jimmy Carter into directing the USAF into developing a new ASAT missile. A 'crash' program initially designated the Prototype Miniature Air-Launched Segment (PMALS), then retitled the Air-Launched Miniature Vehicle (ALMV), resulted in a contact being awarded to LTV Aerospace for an air-launched, multi-stage missile.

-A CASM-135, used for captive carry trials, on display at the Smithsonian's Steven F. Udvar-Hazy Center. | Photo: G. Edward Johnson

-Cross section of the ASM-135's upper stage and MHV. | Illustration Sven's Space Place

-Cutaway view of the ASM-135's MHV. | Illustration: Sven's Space Place

The ASM-135 was mainly comprised of off-the-shelf components, allowing a rapid development and production. The first stage was a modified AGM-69 SRAM, while the second stage was an Altair 3, originally developed for the Scout launch vehicle. The third stage of the ASAT was the Miniature Homing Vehicle (MHV), which incorporated a Honeywell laser ring gyro and a Hughes-developed IR sensor. The seeker was eight strips of indium bismuth arranged in a precise formation to track targets as the MHV spun. Two liquid helium dewars, one in the F-15 (replacing the ammunition drum) and a second smaller tank in the MHV, cooled the sensor head. A ring of 56 solid rocket motors set around the MHV's circumference, controlled by a "bang-bang" system, guided the vehicle at the target, while 8 lower thrust "end-game" motors provided fine control just prior to impact. A group of four RCS motors at the back of the stage maintained a stable spin. The MHV did not include a warhead, the MHV's own momentum was sufficient to destroy the target in what is known as a kinetic kill.

A typical mission would see the ASM-135 mounted underneath an F-15. The fighter's computers would be programed with the target's orbital path, and the HUD would provide steering instructions to the pilot. The Eagle, flying at Mach 1.32, would then execute a 65° climb while the IR sensor scanned for the target. Upon acquisition, the missile would automatically launch at approximately forty thousand feet. Prior to release from the second stage, the ASAT would be spun up to 30rpm, then separated. This spinning motion allowed the IR seeker to see the target as it crossed the detector strips, providing course-correction data.

Five total test launches were carried out, in addition to an unknown number of captive-carry flights beforehand. The first test, on 21 January 1984, did not include an MHV, but proved that the rest of the missile worked. A second test on 13 November of that year was aimed a star, but the MHV failed to track. On 20 August 1985 President Ronal Reagan authorized a test against a satellite ahead of a Congressional ban on ASAT testing, expected later that year. In order to complete the test in so short a time, an existing satellite, the Solwind solar observatory, was designated as the target.

-The Solwind satellite, prior to launch. | Photo: NASA

On 13 September 1985, Maj. Wilbert D. "Doug" Pearson, flying F-15A, tail no. 76-0084 and nicknamed the "Celestial Eagle", launched an ASM-135 ASAT about 200 miles west of Vandenberg AFB. The 30lb MHV collided with the Solwind, which itself weighed a ton, at closing velocity of 15,000mph, destroying the satellite.

-The ASM-135 separates from F-15A 76-0084 on its sole live mission. | Photo: Paul E. Reynolds (USAF)

-Seconds later, the 1st stage motor fired as the F-15 banked away. | Photo: Paul E. Reynolds (USAF)

In addition to proving that the ASAT worked, the test also provided NASA with data on the results of a hypervelocity impact in space, as well as changing thinking on orbital debris. It had been previously assumed that debris caused by a collision would be reflective and easily tracked, but the results of the test proved that, in fact, the pieces were so dark as to be almost undetectable visually, the result of soot from vaporized plastics and other compounds. Of 285 known pieces of Solwind, only two could be seen by optical tracking, the rest identified by USAF IR telescopes and a reentry radar deployed to Alaska. The rubble also did not persist in orbit for as long as predicted, with all but eight pieces having reentered by 1998, the result of increased heating and expansion of the atmosphere due to solar activity.

Two further tests were completed on 22 August and 29 September 1986, though both were directed against stars to comply with the prohibition against live tests. The USAF intended to procure 112 ASM-135s, with 20 F-15A fighters, from the 318th Fighter Interceptor Squadron based at McChord Air Force Base in Washington and the 48th Fighter-Interceptor Squadron based at Langley Air Force Base in Virginia, modified for the anti-satellite mission. However, the program was canceled in 1988, the result of increasing costs and push-back against the wider SDI program.

Fifteen ASM-135s and CASM-135 captive carry simulators were produced, and two of the CASM-135s are on display, one at the USAF Museum in Dayton Ohio, and the other at the Smithsonian's Steven F. Udvar-Hazy Center in Virginia.

The Celestial Eagle was restored to F-15A standards and remained in the USAF inventory, eventually assigned to the 125th Fighter Wing at Homestead AFB in Florida. Doug Pearson, now a retired Major General was reunited with -0084 on 13 September 2007 when he, along with his son (who is also an F-15 driver), visited the 125th as part of a USAF event to commemorate the mission. The aircraft was mothballed at AMARG in 2009 as the 125th transitioned to F-15Cs.

-Retired Maj. Gen. Doug Pearson (left) and Capt. Todd Pearson (right), 390th Fighter Squadron pilot from Mountain Home Air Force Base, Idaho, with the Celestial Eagle. | Photo: Senior Airman Erik Hofmeyer (USAF)

Though the USAF did not take the ASAT operational, the missile did play a part in the 1986 Tom Clancy novel Red Storm Rising, where it was used to destroy several Soviet satellites during a brief hot war between the USSR and NATO.

[leafvy]

𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

[ disclaimer: my sincere apologies if there are any spelling/meaning/origin mistakes in any of my name lists, i am by no means a professional in this area, i just like creating lists to help aid storytellers. i do try my best to find each name’s corresponding origin/meaning/spelling but i am a human who is prone to make the odd mistake. p.s, i take requests! ]

Abbot

Abernathy

Abraham

Abrams

Ackerman

Ackroyd

Agather

Alcott

Alderidge

Aldrich

Algarotti

Allgood

Altree

Amherst

Archer

Archibald

Arlington

Armstrong

Astor

Atwood

Augustine

Baldwin

Balfour

Ballard

Barkley

Barnes

Bartholomew

Baskerville

Bass

Bayard

Bechtel

Beckelhymer

Beckendorf

Bellamy

Benton

Berkeley

Berkshire

Berling

Bernard

Berridge

Billings

Birling

Bishop

Black

Blackstone

Bleu

Bonavich

Bonnacci

Borghese

Bousquet

Braddock

Bradford

Bradshaw

Brannigan

Breslin

Bridges

Bristow

Buchanan

Buckingham

Budreau

Burgess

Bynes

Cabot

Caldwell

Calloway

Calvert

Campbell

Cardiner

Carmichael

Carrington

Carver

Cavender

Chadwick

Chambers

Chandler

Chevallier

Cleary

Clement

Clemonte

Coldwell

Conard

Conrad

Coolidge

Coventry

Covington

Crabtree

Craggs

Crisper

Croft

Cunning

Cunningham

Curio

Cusenbary

Dabney

Daddario

Dallesandro

Dalton

Dandridge

Danton

Darcy

Dark

Davenport

Day

De Loughrey

Decarlo

Decker

Delpy

Dempsey

Denver

Devereaux

Dobermann

Donahue

Donovan

Dougherty

Driskel

Driver

Dubois

Dudley

Dukas

Dumont

Dunlop

DuPont

Dwyer

Dyer

Eades

Earwood

Eastwood

Ebersol

Eberstark

Edge

Edwards

Egan

Elder

Eldridge

Elington

Ellerbrock

Elliot

Ellison

Elswood

Elway

Elwell

English

Epps

Eslinger

Etter

Eubanks

Everhart

Everson

Evert

Faddis

Fairchild

Fangio

Farley

Farrel

Farrington

Fassbinder

Faulkner

Fawcett

Fawzi

Fenner

Fenton

Ferber

Ferenz

Ferguson

Finau

Finch

Finchum

Fingermann

Finn

Fishman

Fissolo

Fitzgerald

Fitzpatrick

Flagg

Flair

Flanagan

Fleetwood

Fleiss

Fletcher

Flood

Floquet

Floris

Flynn

Fogerty

Foley

Fong

Fontana

Forbes

Foster

Franklin

Frasier

Freed

Freeman

Freeze

Froning

Frost

Fsik

Fugger

Fuller

Furyk

Gallagher

Gannon

Geller

Glass

Glover

Goddard

Goldberg

Golden

Goodwin

Goulding

Grant

Greenwalt

Greenway

Greenwood

Griffith

Grimaldi

Griswald

Grubbs

Guest

Gundlach

Hale

Halliday

Halliwell

Hancock

Hanover

Harding

Harrington

Harrison

Hastings

Hatton

Hawthorne

Hayward

Hearst

Hembree

Henderson

Henry

Herveaux

Higgins

Hitchens

Hixon

Hollingsworth

Hollis

Hooper

Hughes

Humphries

Huntington

Hyatt

Idelson

Ingram

Irvine

Ives

Jackman

Jackson

Jagger

James

Jameson

Jessup

Jett

Jingle

Kaufman

Keating

Kelleher

Keller

Kensington

Keogh

Kersey

Kershaw

Kestrel

Keys

Kincaid

King

Kingsley

Kline

Lafferty

LaFleur

Lambert

Lancaster

Landsell

Langley

Larkin

Lattimore

Lauder

LeFlore

LeSaux

Lexington

Lincoln

Lipmann

Livingston

Locke

Lockheart

Lockwood

Longwood

Lord

Lords

Lovecraft

Lowell

Lyons

Mannix

Marlborough

Mars

Mathers

Mayhew

McAllister

McCoy

McElvany

McIntosh

McKnight

McNab

Merrick

Middlebrook

Mirabent

Montgomery

Moreau

Morgan

Morrison

Murray

Napier

Niles

Nolan

Norman

Northington

Norwood

Oaks

October

Odenkirk

Oldman

Orton

Overholt

Patterson

Pembroke

Pembrooke

Pennington

Pentland

Pickering

Pickett

Pinckney

Plantaganet

Pomeroy

Prado

Prichard

Pruitt

Purcell

Quartermaine

Quarters

Quint

Quiver

Radcliffe

Rapanatti

Reyes

Rhodes

Richardson

Richmond

Rockefeller

Romanoff

Rosenbloom

Rothchild

Rutherford

Sanders

Sanderson

Schulz

Schwartz

Sheffield

Sinclair

Sloan

St. Hillaire

Sterling

Stryker

Stuart

Sullivan

Sutton

Swells

Talbot

Thorn

Thornton

Townsend

Tremblay

Tudor

Underhill

Van Doren

Vanderbilt

Venable

Viroslav

Voorhees

Vos

Walton

Warren

Washington

Wayne

Wellington

Westmoreland

Westwood

Whittaker

Willoughby

Wilmington

Windsor

Winslet

Winsley

Winslow

Winston

Winthrop

Worthington

Xanders

Xang

Xavier

Yaeger

Yarborough

Yates

York

Zappa

Zeller

Zimmerman