#i was even vaccinated AND boosted but the world decided it was my time to NOT party on new years

[theculturedmarxist]

There have been many scandals associated with covid in the last nearly 4 years.

I want to tell you about another one that has got zero media coverage.

The top-line is this: the UK government gave more than 2.3 million vulnerable and older people a covid vaccine that isn’t matched to the currently dominant covid strains. And they did it to save money.

The dominant covid strains right now are known as the XBBs. They have been dominant since late summer in most places, when they took over from the BA strains of omicron.

But rather than give people the new more effective XBB vaccine, the British government decided to use up their stockpile of the older BA vaccines first.

The worst thing is, those who got the outdated vaccine were those first in line for vaccines, such as older people and people with health conditions.

But they won’t know this.

So 2.3 million vulnerable people in the UK are walking around thinking they are well-protected this winter against covid when they’re not.

The British government didn’t hide why it did this. On the official government webpage it spells it out. In bold are the clues hiding in plain sight.

“The choice of vaccine products for autumn 2023 has been determined based on available data on vaccine safety, effectiveness and immunogenicity, logistical factors, programmatic deliverability and a bespoke cost effective assessment. Other vaccines which may offer similar protection, but which would incur additional costs, are expected to be less cost effective within the bespoke cost-effectiveness assessment compared to pre-procured Omicron-variant mRNA COVID-19 vaccines.”

What they are saying, under the cover of the gross language of ‘bespoke cost effectiveness assessment,’ is that they’d already bought the older vaccines and it was cheaper to use them than buy extra new ones.

They used people’s bodies as asset dumps for old medical stock.

In the UK the booster roll-out began on September 11th. We know that in Scotland they switched over to XBB on September 25th and in England and Wales they switched to the new ones on October 2nd, as confirmed that day by Meaghan Kall, an epidemiologist at the UK’s health security agency responsible for covid.

But by September 29th the British government reported 2.35 million people had been covid boosted. So we know this was largely with the old vaccine (save 4 days in Scotland). In response to my thread on Twitter, many reported receiving the old vaccine. Even now, people are saying they’re still only being offered the old vaccine.

Boosting people with a vaccine not matched to the dominant strains will certainly lead to worse outcomes as an average than if these people had received the updated vaccine. People will die for this penny pinching.

But then the British government has for some time now been relaxed about killing people for austerity.

The Brits are also tightly restricting access to covid vaccines, in contrast to almost every other country. And in a final twist, the Brits are now stockpiling the new XBB vaccines and are almost certainly going to take the same approach to deploying an outdated vaccine next time round.

When I tweeted about this, the Guardian journalist George Monbiot responded and we subsequently exchanged emails. Monbiot did then write a very good column about the ongoing burden of covid in the UK and the various public health failures.

But the article omitted any mention of the millions who were given the older vaccine.

I can’t criticise Monbiot. I wouldn’t be surprised if he included this and it was cut by his editors. And his article stands head and shoulders above almost any other reporting of covid in the mass media, a mass media that has played a key part in normalising the transmission of a virus that has become the leading cause of infectious disease death in the world today.

These lies and misinformation about covid in the mass media continue. Last week was no exception.

The BBC’s health editor Nick Triggle wrote a truly noxious covid story full of half-truths, lies by omission and propaganda. He said covid was less deadly than the flu, that it is becoming a seasonal ‘bug’, that people who were concerned about rising hospitalisations were just anxious. (Nick Triggle’s sister-in-law is a Tory member of parliament, which might explain some things).

In the US, the New York Times interviewed the epidemiologist and long-time covid downplayer Michael Mina who said rates of long covid are drastically falling - without citing a shred of evidence - and said repeated exposure to covid for most people will not be harmful and will build immunity. In the comments below the piece, one person said the “excellent story begs the question as to whether healthy people should take any precautions against covid.” Job done.

Then there was the ‘long cold’ research paper which was amplified across global media.

If you missed it, the thrust was that long colds might be as common as long covid. So far, so fine.

But the findings were stripped of critical context in relation to covid.

It failed to acknowledge that even if long colds do exist, and almost certainly they do, Sars-Cov-2 is a different beast, behaving in a completely different way to other common cold-causing coronaviruses.

And rather than the conclusion here being ‘ok, so if long colds are this common, long covid might be very common too and maybe we should do something about it,’ the stories led us towards the conclusion that long covid itself is nothing to worry about because post-viral illness is nothing new.

All of this would have been bad enough without mentioning the methodology.

The study was conducted in 2020-2021 and relied on people self reporting a respiratory illness that they said wasn’t covid. We know for a fact that far fewer people got a respiratory illness that wasn’t covid in these years, so I expect a good number of these ‘not covids’ leading to ‘long colds’ were, in fact, covids leading to long covid. But again, the media stories failed to provide any of this context. Nick Triggle was one of those who wrote a story.

Triggled twice in two weeks.

Over and over, it seems that those who are concerned about covid come armed with data, and those who aren’t come armed with gut feeling in order to keep business-as-usual ticking over.

It’s 2019 again! Stop worrying!

Normalisation is the most powerful sociological force in the world today. Through a captured media, the ruling class can make us absorb a pandemic, accept climate collapse and shrug at apartheid. Change is unnecessary because nothing is wrong. It is just the natural order, flowing.

We also found out this week that just 2% of Americans have stepped up for the new covid jab, a rate of uptake that can be traced back to the early over-hyping of vaccines and the manufacturing of a narrative that says covid is mild and we’ve all achieved immunity now anyway.

I didn’t know where we’d be nearly four years on from the start of the pandemic, but I didn’t think we’d be here. New waves, millions being infected, thousands dying every week. And a media and public knowledge blackout of Novavax, the most effective vaccine. A vaccine we’ve known is the most effective for over two years.

It is tiring to keep up, to keep bearing witness to these fuck-ups, to this cruelty.

But we have to.

Because to believe in change means documenting the incompetence, the failure, the lies and the indifference that eventually compels that change to come.

[rylredrants]

Smiling too much

(Why I'll Always Mask When I'm Alone in Public)

Existing while female means having a random dude-bro tell you that, “You’re smiling too much” because somehow men got the message that telling a woman in public they should smile more is not okay while also not understanding that if she’s not smiling, then maybe she doesn’t want to be spoken to. Maybe, like me, she was pondering whether to buy naan or make a homemade batch later… looking for the King’s Hawaiian rolls and remembering that the garam masala was in the aisle I walked in on, on my way to get my vaccine.

This is how my day got derailed.

My first mistake… and clearly, it’s absolutely MY mistake for not only being a woman in public alone but for having my long red hair pulled up in a ponytail and deciding to put on enough makeup to cover my hyperpigmentation and define my eyes just a little…

My first mistake after that was deciding to not wear a mask into the grocery store/pharmacy where I was getting my COVID vaccine booster.

This wasn’t an easy decision. We have managed to avoid COVID *knocks on wood* because we mask in most public places, use a nasal spray, and are fully boosted. We both work from home and usually get groceries curbside, but today I needed to get my vaccine, pick up prescriptions for myself, my husband, and our dog, and maybe grab a couple small things while I was in the grocery store.

COVID numbers are generally down, and it was mid-morning on a Thursday… hardly peak shopping hours, and the parking lot reflected this.

The mask-or-don’t-mask calculations also include the social capital. That’s another way of saying the ability to walk around a public space without being glared at and instead smiling at strangers and making small talk in the checkout line.

People don’t mask around here anymore, not even in medical facilities. At a doctor’s appointment last month, I told the nurse, “I’m not sick, just trying to keep it that way,” after which she relaxed and warmed up… a stark contrast to the icy glares I got from other patients and the front desk clerk in the waiting room.

I’m generally a really social person.

I’ll strike up conversations with anyone, anywhere. And when my anxiety over being in a public place is low, I’ll walk slowly, make eye contact, and smile at people as they pass.

I’ve also come to understand that I hold a certain amount of pretty privilege and am not ashamed to admit that I’ve used it to my advantage in certain situations. Being dressed down, naked-faced, in a baseball cap doesn’t change that. If anything, it’s shown that people view me as even more approachable when I’m out in the world that way.

This is just who I am in public. I’m a people person who often comes home feeling energized by the little low-attachment interactions of saying thank you and good morning to strangers as I run errands. But I was reminded of the other side of that today in the Safeway bakery section.

I wasn’t smiling at all because I was lost in thought.

I was debating making fresh naan and the string of thoughts that came with it from the timing of when I’d need to make the dough to whether or not to use all of the garlic I roasted yesterday to make hummus… and if I make hummus, should I also grab celery to eat with it? And where are the King’s Hawaiian rolls? They’ll go really well with all the soup I made yesterday… but maybe I should just bust out a batch of the copycat Roadhouse Rolls that my husband loves so much…?

And then I heard it.

“You’re smiling way too much!” from a dude-bro standing on the other side of a refrigerated case full of crescent rolls and OJ. That was all it took to go from planning my day to a full-blown panic attack. I looked up, gave a little chuckle then turned in my tracks toward the front of the store.

Never mind that the pharmacy line had dwindled since I arrived for my vaccine, and I needed to pick up three prescriptions. Never mind the garam masala or the half-priced Easter candy display I’d passed on the way in. TIME. TO. GO. NOW.

It wasn’t the comment itself that did it. I mean, it was just another way for a man to tell me I needed to smile more… something I’ve heard on the street and in public spaces more times than I can count.

It was all the other times I’ve been existing while female, only to be treated as though I was on display for a man’s viewing pleasure.

It was the time some rando honked at me at a stop light and took my picture when I turned to look at him. When I told the story on Facebook later that day, several male friends responded with some variation of “Well, you’re so pretty! I understand why he’d want a picture of you.”

It was the day I was standing in line at a convenience store and suddenly felt the knuckles of an old man with a cane passing across my ass as he walked too closely behind me. When I turned around and made a scene, everyone in the store (including my then-husband and so-called best friend) treated me like I was overreacting. I must have imagined it, or it was totally an accident. Why would an old man grope me like that?

It was walking into work in basic office attire- slacks, chunky heels, and a plain shirt, through a parking lot full of blue-collar workers who stared at my car and then wolf-whistled as I stepped out. When I got to my desk, shaking with adrenaline from the rage and fear the rest of the office treated me as though I was being overly sensitive, dramatic and why would they whistle at the office fat girl?

It was the last day of training at a different job when one of the instructors hissed at me under his breath, “You sure do know how to walk into a room,” as passed by his chair. Suddenly, I remembered the tests I’d taken with perfect scores and answers that were clearly wrong. I understood that my nomination of ‘most professional’ was more about how I filled out my slacks than how I spoke to callers and classmates. For the rest of the time I worked there, I had to listen to everyone else talk about what a great man he was and how much they missed him.

It was being 13 years old, walking with two other girls to the convenience store for Doritos and root beer when a car full of men passed by repeatedly, catcalling us from the windows. They then pulled into the vacant lot we were passing through, blocking our path. When they went to get out of the car, I told everyone to run, and we made it safely into the store. Panting, with tears streaming down our faces... we forgot the Doritos, and the cashier let me use the store’s phone to call my “dad” to ask for a ride home. We were afraid they would be waiting for us when we walked out. My dad refused to come get us and told me to just settle down.

It was every single time I’d been harassed by a man in public only to have the men in my life invalidate me when I spoke up.

But I’m me, and I can’t shut up, so I’m doing it again. I’m writing this hoping that someone else will finally realize that these things (and worse) happen to EVERY WOMAN YOU KNOW.

Not just women who dress in revealing clothing. Not just women of a specific body type. Not just women who you personally consider attractive.

We do not color our hair or put on makeup to be looked at. We don’t stand in our closets thinking, “Hmmm… which top might cause a small car accident in the Lowes parking lot?” or “Does this skirt make me look like I want a man’s opinion?”

We have bodies that we choose to adorn in our own way, not to make you look but because we have to leave the house to do the same things you do- get a vaccine, pick up something at the bakery, and maybe, next time… maybe remember to get all of the prescriptions.

[deepcurrentart]

i got covid new years THEN my husband got covid and it was a hot mess but now i return with ~fancy~ shaded art wOO

[theworldoffostering]

One of our favorite helpers that is in our home a few times a week working with our kids tested positive for COVID today. She masks when she’s here, but we ate dinner together two nights ago and obviously don’t mask while eating. I was sitting next to her at dinner.

DS and Ms. 6 have colds that seem like sinus infections. I had three home tests. I gave them each one yesterday, so I’m down to one test left. They both tested negative. However, with this new news, I think we should all get PCR tests. I can’t get in to get an appointment anywhere (of course). I probably can get two more home test kits tomorrow evening as I have a friend who works in a lab and can buy them cheaply directly from the company who makes them (who he is also employed by).

E is seeing genetics next week. I called them and told them we needed some direction in how to live in a world of COVID. They tried to blow me off because they haven’t seen us since 2016, but I passed the buck right back to them and said they were the ones that told us she cannot be vaccinated so we needed to discuss options. I have no idea what they’re going to say. I’m hoping they don’t just lightly now decide she can be vaccinated without some thorough look through her history, current medical conditions, genetic diagnosis, and a solid understanding of both how COVID and the vaccine works. I’m terrified.

We met with E’s pulmonologist yesterday. She wants E vaxxed because COVID is bound to be deadly for E (she’s missing surfactant D which plays a strong role in why illness hits her so hard). But the vaccine won’t guarantee that she won’t get COVID, and very well may kill her too or have some awful long term side effects. The rest of our kids are fully vaccinated for COVID so we aren’t anti-vax (DH and I are also fully vaccinated and boosted); we are following the orders genetics gave us upon E being diagnosed—no vaccines for her. She falls into the category of the population that legitimately cannot be vaccinated for medical reasons. My hope is that genetics takes a clear stance and looks at her case very specifically so we know what to do.

I hate being in this spot.

[manonamora-if]

And what a year it has been. I have decided to not be original and follow the steps of other IF authors and have a little final updates on this year.

I don't really talk much about personal things on this Tumblr (maybe I should, maybe I should leave it like this), but it has been a strange year. I moved across the world early 2021, had to deal with a terrible administration to have my papers in orders (it took for some 8 months you guys...), lost some people and almost lost some more, was hella bored waiting for things to come through (completely out of my control), met some new people, had a small culture clash along the way... and, most importantly, survived another year (even with the C-panini looming over our heads - get vaccinated and boosted).

One highlight of this year was coming to this hell of a website and interacting with cool people, exchanging ideas and information, and working in even cooler projects. I think what saved my sanity was starting creating IF stuff. Sure I had to take a (long) break or two along the way, but helped so much with keeping a semblance of a routine (with M's help too).

Since April-ish, I have worked on a bunch of stuff (see the Master list). There is probably too much I want to say about these projects, so I'll limit myself to a few words each. Meeting the Parents was a RIDE, that taught me a coding language or two and some cool praises. Crimson Rose and White Lily has been and still is EXCITING, and reminded me to keep things simple and organized. Exquisite Cadaver was QUICK but not easy, and took me in a deeper dive into coding and macro use. TTTT was PAUSED as soon as it started, but it will come back hopefully sometime next year. And other ideas and projects that are still in the infant stage.

As I dived back into writing, something that I had forsaken for too many years, I learned a lot about myself and what I liked doing. I worked hard... and also barely. I wrote much more than I thought I would, and also barely finished NaNoWriMo. I failed many, many, times and also succeeded (unless you are called Tweego, I will master you next year!). I have given up and started again. I have been excited and annoyed, infuriated and ecstatic, and felt so much that I thought I would not feel as deeply again (fuck you, depression). And I have worked a lot on myself. I don't think I can completely stop comparing myself to other people, in how much or well I write or the numbers I get; or stop myself from feeling undeserving and out of place in this space. But sharing some stuff that is not always shared here and be vulnerable here has helped me tremendously. I can still be afraid to fail, but it is getting easier to get over with it.

This year has been great. This year has been terrible. It is ending just fine, around people I love and care, with some lovely food and drinks. I hope you are able enjoy the passage into the new year as happily as I definitively will.

Boy-o-boy am I excited for this new year!

I can't wait to get deeper into the IF Ocean and its wonderful games. I don't think I have been trying out as many games as I wanted, but I have already set myself some time to look up fun demos to try out and be excited about. I have a saved list already on itch. I also want to be more part of the community in terms of supporting other authors (as much as I can, cause we are all #broke here). Expect some bunch of reblogs maybe?

There are a few projects that I have on the horizon:

First, CRWL Chapter 2 should be out some time in 2022 Q1 (depends on how fast the re-drafting/proofreading goes).

I do want to finish and submit TTTT to the next IF Comp, the code is there and works, I just need to do the hard part of actually writing characters and backstory.

M has been hard at work with his Lovecraftian-inspired IF, which I will code (yay for less work!); I will take whatever is done and probably submit it to a Halloween-themed jam on itch later this year. I have read his file and I have to say... THIS IS SO COOL. Unfortunately, he is going to have busy days ahead so progress will be ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Some other stuff I am looking forward to:

I think one of my games will be hitting a milestone soon.

Next month will be the 6-month anniversary of CRWL, and like MtP I am planning on doing a small retrospection on how well it is doing and some stuff I've learnt working on this project.

Some other IFs I am following are getting an update or are releasing their demos.

Finally making Tweego my b*tch (hopefully... it's really not easy 😭)

My birthday will be coming up sooner than I'd like it too. But I've stopped being afraid of seeing my age grow and not feeling like I am keeping up with my peers. I am really looking forward to my favourite meal 😂

Finally, I've been toying with the idea of getting some sort of Kofi or add a Donate button to my itch page. And a Discord for beta testers. I'd need to mull it over a bit longer.

Anyway... see you all in the new year! Luv ya!

[kyndaris]

Tripping Down Memory Lane

Just before a single case of Delta would spread and lock down the harbour city of Sydney, many of us managed to enjoy the Queen’s birthday long weekend during the first half of June. Eager to leave the house after being trapped indoors for a long time, I decided to visit the newly renovated Australian Museum and compare it to the fun interactive exhibits that I had experienced while I was in the United States of America - from the Natural History Museum in Houston, Texas to the Smithsonian in Washington D.C.

It didn’t help that my memories of visiting the Australian Museum were very lacklustre in nature. In particular, I remember paying to see an Egyptian exhibit and had finished taking a look around within an hour or two.The only good experiences I can recall during my childhood were the occasional special exhibits at the PowerHouse Museum and a trip to Questacon back when I was about 12.

 So, with my mother in tow, we paid a visit to the Australian Museum, located on the other side of Hyde Park and was a stone’s throw away from St Mary’s Cathedral. 

Being a long weekend, there was, unfortunately, a lot of children and their parents in attendance. The young scamps were almost everywhere. And none of them were wearing masks! I almost wanted to dropkick them out into the cold wintry air for spoiling my fun.

Don’t they know that museums are for twenty-something-year-olds? Can’t they appreciate that someone with a steady job wants to learn more about the natural history of the world? 

Honestly. There should be a sign outside museums that say that children under the age of 10 are not allowed inside!

(I jest. But given the fact that the pandemic has yet to go away fully, you can understand the paranoia that had been on my mind).

Though this was before the Delta case that would send us scrambling to our homes, my mother and I had decided to take several precautions. Ever conscious that it would only take one to start a cluster, I wore a mask during the entirety of our exploration and was hesitant to use the touch screens even though there was a significant amount of sanitiser.

For the first time in a long while, I was able to relive some of the magic I witnessed while I was in the United States of America as I took in the impressive display of taxidermy animals. While it would have been better if they had dressed up some of the glass cages, it was still a delight to see animals posed just so to demonstrate their noble carriage.

Explanations were also fun to read rather than laborious or being bogged down by technical jargon. It was also fun to see an exhibit dedicated to the exploration of various cultures in the Pacific as well rather than an entire hall dedicated to butterflies and beetles. 

But best of all, there was (almost) an entire floor dedicated to dinosaurs! And while I may not be a child under ten or a ‘too cool for school’ teenager, I was still taken aback by the replicas that were present. To my delight, they had even recreated a dinosaur only to have a group of scientists commit to a bit of completing an autopsy to determine what had killed the great beast.

If we could have stayed longer, I would have. 

Unfortunately by 2pm, my stomach was grumbling and the cafe at the top offered a meagre fare that I considered overpriced and would also take significantly longer than I would have liked to be prepared. I’m not going to pay $15 for a Ham and Cheese sandwich. That’s daylight robbery, that is! 

So, off my mother and I trotted down towards Wynyard and Barangaroo. Though the Crown Towers (renamed because they could not obtain a casino licence) had finished construction a good long while ago (for what even is time in lockdown), I hadn’t the chance to pay it a good visit and enjoy what was on offer. Given the late hour, most of the restaurants had closed already for lunch.

Thankfully, the Woodcut was still open and we sat down to enjoy a very late meal to fill up our stomachs and give us the energy boost we needed to head back home.

And so ended a perfectly good outing. 

Little did we know that Delta had already entered Australia and was possibly circling around the Harbour city.

And even when the case was announced on 16th June, Supanova (a great big nerdy convention) was still allowed to go ahead from 18th - 20th June. A little hesitant, I even asked my friend, Bleachpanda, if we ought to risk it. 

Not knowing that it would spiral into quadruple digits despite lockdown while in August, we decided to go ahead with our plans.

Had anyone with COVID-19 actually attended the convention, Supanova would have been the perfect superspreader event. Though numbers were lower than they had been in years previous, it was still a confined indoor event. 

It’s hard to say if my preparations would have helped, including masks, sanitiser and alcohol wipes.

Bleachpanda and I took a quick gander around at the stalls and within two hours, we had finished and were headed back to my car. I was laden down with a few items that I had bought from Tee Turtle shirts to a cute face mask. And then we enjoyed lunch at a Japanese restaurant in Lidcombe - which, at time of writing - is an impossible dream given how quickly things have changed and escalated over the intervening months.

And while vaccination numbers are rising, it still doesn’t feel as if infections have reached their peak though August is ending and September is on the horizon. Already there is talk of students returning to classrooms by October but it’s so hard to look at the future when everyday feels the same as the last (or perhaps progressively worse). Australia might not see the numbers that have utterly decimated India and Indonesia, but it’s terrifying to know that the disease could enter your home just from a trip to grab groceries.

Even with higher vaccination numbers, it still pays to maintain a lot of the measures that we’ve been practicising such as masks, social distancing and washing those hands, you dirty pig! (Oh gosh, Season 3 of Sex Education can’t come out fast enough!)

[horseyfuture]

Lockdown 2021

Welcome, you sickening metallic pervert. I don’t know why I even tolerate you, my dues to the club have long since been settled and yet still you show up with your corrugated spleen and your laminated nipples. What? Oh, it’s you. With your simple fleshy appendages and some kind of yellow blancmange for a CPU. I suppose you will suffice. Bend yourself over the table there and we’ll get on with the show. Liquid soap’s on the side, next to the antique bum-hammer.

---

Aries: You find yourself repeatedly followed by crows. This is in no way related to the quite normal phenomenon in which a murder of crows will adopt a human who feeds them, bringing them trinkets and even offering them protection from aggressors. No, these crows find you sexy. Leaping about in your lounge, wearing your goth tops and flapping your arms to the rhythms of online parties, the crows all agree that you are “SKRARK!” or, in Crow, “one fine piece of floppy human tail”. Well done! Crows have good taste and make excellent lovers.

Taurus: Every time you open that damn Taurus mouth of yours, you sound like a broken record. I mean, literally, you sound like a piece of badly scratched vinyl. That’s been up the wrong bit of a rhino. And is being played using a bent nail. Through the speakers of a brown ‘65 Ford Allegro. In Ipswitch. In the rain. On a Wednesday. In November. That’s a lot of detail to pack into an accent every time you decide to prattle on about crisps. People find it offputting.

Gemini: On a whim, you buy yourself a File-o-fax, you know, from the 80s. You must have seen one in a kitschy American TV show or something. While excessively bored on a Sunday afternoon, you begin to fill in some of the entries from your mobile phone. As soon as you finish writing the first one, Adam, he calls! What a crazy coincidence! You move onto the next, Beth - then SHE calls! That’s just insane! As you move onto the next name, you think “My god, what if I bought a MAGICAL File-o-fax? What adventures could I HAVE?” - You look down at the table in awe, when suddenly it all becomes clear: next to the Magic File-o-fax is the Magic Empty Bottle of Gin. Ah.

Cancer: Singing a song about beans, YEAH! Singing a song about toast! Singing a song about beans on toast, ‘cos that food you like the most, WOO! Singing a song about waffles? NO! Can’t be arsed making them! Beans on toast takes like two tiny minutes and waffles take about fucking ten! (FUCK THAT!) Singing a song into the beans can! While the beans turn in the microwave, ALRIGHT! Naming individual beans (YEAH!) pretend they’re all going to a beans rave! (WHISTLE POSSE!) Shovelling the beans into your mouth WOO! Toasting bread is for twats! (LO-SERS!) Pouring cold beans onto your face and half of them fall onto the cat! (SEND HELP!)

Leo: After a successful hour’s staring at the stippled ceiling, you reward yourself with a brisk walk to the door. After three proud steps, diligently recorded by your fitness band (which you’re fairly certain is now emitting a dull weeping sound), you jubilantly punch the air and have a nice relaxing pass out on the floor. After another few hours, you surf another boost of energy and nearly make it to the fridge. Sadly, though this goal is destined to elude you as you trip over a recently-delivered Amazon envelope. A handful of attempts in, you succeed at opening the envelope (only stopping twice to catch breath) and discover it to contain one flimsy plastic finger measurer and a £60 voucher for a wine subscription. You remember the partner you once had, in the distant before times, so vibrant and loud. In recognition of having had what you’re certain is “a feeling”, you fling the ring-measurer away, order the wine and settle into a nice, relaxing cry.

Virgo: There are a number of St Bernards around your neighbourhood and you’ve started to find them more than a little intimidating. What began as friendly barks as you passed in the street has developed into the odd growl and now barking as the owners pull their wretched beasts back from you, swearing in anguish as their hounds’ slavering jaws snap at your heels. After a few weeks of this, Monthly Bath Weekend inevitably comes round and the problem seems to just go away.

Libra: Some people have been baking recently. They - of course - are twats. Others have chosen to use this time to improve existing music skills, or even pick up a new instrument in their abundance of free time. Shit-eating scum, each and every one of them. You are not going to be affected by this self-improvement bullshit and have decided to strike out on your own, tangibly making yourself less pleasant, skilled and attractive with each passing day. Monday is fudge-eating class. Tuesday, “how long can I sit on the loo?” marathons (5 hours PB). Wednesday is Yelling ‘BASTARDS’ at the Sky Day, while Thursday (being the new Friday) you party on down with a life-size model of Prince made from your own toenails. Friday you slam your face into cupboards, repeating the word “APES” in a dull monotone. At the weekend, it’s time to rest! Phew! Just a few hours drilling holes in the ceiling, a slip, a tumble, a fall, a crunching sound and a view from the underside of a very poorly constructed step-ladder until it all goes beautifully dark.

Scorpio: Fuck this, you’re buying beach balls. Yep. Why not? You do, in fact, buy beach balls. Why didn’t you think of this before? They’re bright. They’re entertaining. They’re CHEAP. You can order them in large quantities, it turns out. “Ooh, I hope you’re not having a party!” says the delivery man, with a wink “HAHAHAH, NO. Actually I’m just INFLATING THEM AND POPPING THEM” you cackle toward his suddenly retreating face. It takes a while to inflate all 400, but the high you get from blowing them up is quite intense! Now you have a house full of beach balls! Haha! You can’t bring yourself to pop them in the end. Some of them are lost to accidents (fried beach ball, anyone?) and others you draw on with crude faces of past enemies, then open the door and punt them down the street with a hearty “FUCK YOU, BEATRICE!” (or Ken, as appropriate. You had few enemies. It’s cheap therapy). The last few hundred last you happily into the next month, though the doctor is mildly unimpressed when you attempt to get them vaccinated.

Sagittarius: Your attempts at making LEGO sex toys go badly to begin with. But, weirdly, you do eventually get better at it. You’re particularly proud of the one where you use the gearbox from the racing car for, well, you know. The winking pneumatic sex-donkey (8,014 bricks) is, in most people’s opinion, your pièce de résistance. You can’t wait for the highstreet to open up again, so you can go and show off your repertoire down the local toyshop.

Capricorn: It’s tough getting through lockdown without the internet. In your case, though, it is entirely self-inflicted. You made a promise to yourself to cut down on the doomscrolling and it was successful! Prodigiously so! You end up cutting out the news sites - who needs them? - then the social sites - nothing but trash! - then eventually you just pull the wires out of your router and fling it in the bin with some bits of leftover chicken. Time passes, politicians come and go, vaccines are invented, distributed, mostly successful (with only a small amount of people instantly turning into tiny, angry lizards) and eventually the world passes through the danger period and back into something like normality! You, of course, miss this entirely and get on with your new hobby of writing subversive poetry on the walls in dollops of mouldy Marmite. Weirdly, you ARE happier.

Aquarius: Lockdown doesn’t seem to be getting to you too badly this month (whichever month it turns out to be). You did get to a bit of a peak when you were popping a Toblerone up your bum while playing kazoos just to get yourself ready for the next bloody Zoom meeting of the day, you now you’re limiting it to one bar per day and only using the two kazoos, you feel like you’ve hit your stride, found your flow, really made the most of every work-from-home hour the Lord sends. Ah, yes, the Lord truly has kept you to the virtuous path. Without your faith, you would never have got through the dark days. Sat there on his throne of Bourbons, wearing his Chocolate Finger crown. Slowly rotating on the lazy Susan you bought so you could efficiently respect His Majesty from any angle with a deft flick of the wrist (and a few Bourbons in the eyes if you get too excited). The mighty Lord. You assume his name was Lord. There were only a few letters you could read on the collar when you found him by the bins. Ah, yes. The bins. The biscuits. The Lord. The rapture. Amen.

Pisces: After popping to the door to bring in a food delivery, you notice the day looks quite pleasant for a change, pop a mask on and go for a nice walk. On the way back, you notice a ladder leant up against a tree, with a strange golden light shimmering from high in the branches. Climbing the ladder, you hear the sound of a party, people calling your name in joy, whistles and whoops, clapping and laughter. You tumble into the golden light and down a kind of shoot as a fanfare plays. The dazzling light fades, the noise abates gently and you are sat on your sofa. On the TV are the words “LEVEL 4: YODELLING GEESE”. The geese filling your living room immediately begin to yodel with anger.

---

By the sainted elbows of Bobby Tavistocke, we got there in the end. I may have been a little over-brutal with my use of the bum-hammer there, for which I apologise. Anyway, you have extracted your price once more and I have little left to give. Pick up your clothes and get out of my living room.

As usual, you may of course take a fairy cake. We’ve got the nice ones this week.

DEPART!

[dungeonmalcontent]

Update regarding my content

I was recently confronted by the realization that I’m kind of a dumb. My decision to paywall all of my DMsGuild content, while well intended, had the side effect of preventing those people who are suffering in current times from accessing them as easily. I don’t get to decide who wants to use my content, though I hope I only ever attract “good” people (as subjective as that may be) to this blog. I realize that different people need different things during this time of civil unrest.

To my followers that are white and clueless, I encourage you to educate yourselves and help fight for justice and equality in whatever way you can. I will not be stopping you from using my content as a means of escapism when you could be doing more productive and useful things, but I will politely shame you for it. If you see injustice and inequality in the world and turn your back from doing anything about, you are part of the problem. I don’t hate you, but I realize that the world and even the TTRPG community has been far more accessible to you than to any minority or other group. You don’t need as much, if any, help.

To my followers that are not straight, white, and clueless (or any mix), I would like to let you know that this blog is a safe space for you. I have, and will continue, to try my best to support you and the causes that fight for you. for the remainder of the pandemic (that is to say, until a vaccine becomes available) all of the proceeds to all of my published works will go towards charities (divided between Feeding America for P.P.P., and various other charities like The Loveland Foundation for everything else I have published). If my content helps you relax or escape from any sort of hell in your life, I am glad to help you.

To this end, I will be returning all my DMsGuild content back to their previous pay what you want states.

As a closing note: If you are a POC d&d content creator, artist, or fantasy podcaster I would love to give you a signal boost. If you’re up for it, comment on or reblog this post with your preferred username/blog url and a link to where people can find your work. With your permission, I would love to compile a list of content creators that I can share on my blog.

[vishalmeena]

Appreciation letter

To,  The Intelligent beings of our Nation

20th April 2021

Subject: Appreciation letter to the people who're always ready to take extra measures to keep their families safe. 

Dear Wise Person Hope this email finds you in the best of your health. I would like to thank you from the core of my heart for keeping yourself and the people around you safe during this worldwide crisis. When you didn't have the mask, you innovated your way out of it by using your handkerchief or a scarf as a perfect replacement. In fact, you shared the same piece of cloth with your friend whenever it was required. We recently concluded one of the biggest Wedding seasons ever, I'm glad you didn't let those hideous masks hide your perfectly shaped nose. As one fashion enthusiast from a prison cell once said, "If you have got it, you got to show it to the world." Not only were you stylish, but you were also smart, you made sure to keep away from carrying a sanitizer bottle in your pants where it would look rather disgusting bulging out of your watch pocket, or even keeping it in your purse where it would take unnecessary space.

Your work reflects your dedication to the mission of Atmanirbhar Bharat. You made sure to read & follow at least one article floating around on WhatsApp on daily basis. You didn't skip when your YouTube recommended you, "Yeh Desi Dawa karegi, 2 ghante me Corona ka Jad se Khatma!!" You are a Self-made doctor, you made sure to take 2-3 glasses of Methi Soup, Turmeric soup daily along with heavy quantities of Zinc-based food to boost immunity. You procured the drug, "Remdesivir" which is not easily prescribed by a medical professional since it is only given to patients with very specific conditions at a very specific time, but you did it. You have special skills when it comes to getting things over the counter. Not just me but financial experts and like are thrilled to have such a terrific group of people like you working in unison to bring back the economy on track, even if it means hoarding the Neutraceuticals.  

The virus came daunting at this particular time, last year. With many restrictions in place, it took away our freedom as an individual. But, you didn't give in to the pressure or the rumors. You came forward and dared to organize your birthday. The virus could control the world, but not you! You decided to invite all your friends in for a pool party and laughed at the stupid virus. You understand that it's not folklore but a fact-based reality that we Indians have better immunity by nature. Now, I'm aware of the false information that Scientists think lower fatality rates have something to do with our relatively young population but we all know what's the truth. Just because they tell us to socially distance ourselves, we can't let someone else take advantage of that fact and jump the line. You never took the risk to give anyone space to cut the queue, anywhere and we salute you for that. 

You are an inspiration for the whole country and you have a significant role to play in the future success of the program. Motivated by your efforts and evident through ads running during IPL, Scientists have now been able to invent such fans that kill the virus, the pillows which protect you from the virus, the bedsheets, the lamps, the air conditioners, and whatnot. I don't even know how this virus is surviving in the first place? Anyway, I just wanted to take a moment and thank you for being such a valuable asset to our country. We’ve all learned from your success and will continue to do so!

Furthermore, I am attaching the links to the rumors and the fake news that has been spreading across the internet. So you make sure nobody believes them. 

Sincerely,  Vishal Meena A Concerned Citizen

Attachments:

1.  How to Protect yourself and others from COVID-19?      - W.H.O.

2. It is safe to take Vaccine in India.       - Hindustan Times

3.  Too much turmeric, methi, vitamin D — Doctors fight new emergencies driven by Covid fear      - The Print

4.  People make a beeline to buy Remdesivir in Hyderabad.      - TOI

Ps. It's time to get serious about Cornovirus, the second wave is the direct result of celebrating success too soon. It breaks my heart to see more people lining up in a queue to get Remdesivir than to get vaccinated. If you're eligible to get the vaccine, please get it and if not you're not eligible yet, educate and motivate your elders who can. Please take all the necessary precautions and always consult a doctor before buying any Neutraceuticals. As always if you have suggestion or a message, feel free to drop it here anonymously. Thank you! 

[thelexlucifer]

Why Testosterone is most important. And why Feminists want to reduce yours.

As you might guess from the title, this posting is for the Satanic Warlock. But I am sure, that also Satanic Witches can understand it and would probably agree. 

The headline is kept short and it is not all about testosterone. It is about masculinity and testosterone however is a very important ingredient. For males, this hormone to a huge extent contributes to your lifestyle. If you are high on testosterone, chances are good, that you enjoy an amazing sex life, grow strong in the gym, have a neat body, sleep well, push through your goals and just feel great. Scientists might disagree, as a single hormone is not enough to predict the future outcomes of a complex system. Of course success depends also on other factors - I leave it to scientists to give that explanations. Testosterone however is an important item, as it is an important ingredient to make you superior to others. Being superior to others is most important, as you learned that you need to push through your interests against resistance from the herd. Or in brief: Might is right, as you have already read. And the herd is numerous but not mighty per se.

They however employed top social scientists that revealed many dimensions on which the average herd member only scores average, if not even below. Many of those dimensions, if not all, decide who wins in the daily competition. Being lazy and ignorant, they realized, that it would mean lots of efforts to gain and to score higher and then score better in competition. They therefore decided not to gain and compete, but to make everyone equal. In practice that means that they want to rule out all dimensions of success and replace it by odd practices. Furthermore they aim to take resources from those that possess them. They team-up to take away from you, what makes you successful.

Actually ... it’s a man’s world. There are however ladies that get what they want, both in the boardroom and in the bedroom. Those are satanic witches; I get along with them very well and have devoted blog posts to them. The opposite to Satanic witches are the feminists. They claim that men are responsible for all the bad in the world. They want to take away from men, what makes a man a man. They want to take from you what makes you superior over them. They want to take from you what makes your life a pleasant one. They want to take from you everything that lets you enjoy life. Metaphorically spoken they want to eliminate you. Because if men are in a minority, they rule the world. And succeed although they would lose in every fair competition. 

Their strategy is to avoid direct competition and rather replace it by a selection process that is in their favor. The key tool to accomplish that is political activism. It is well established in liberal democracies such as propagated by the European Union. At the first glance it sounds like a good idea. Drilling deeper however reveals that is biased, favoring the weak (feminists are just one example). The distorition of the might is right princliple is already facing its limits (please refer to my blog post “Why the EU will fail. And why that’s not Russia’s fault).

But until the pendulum swings back to normal (those processes are already on the way), you face the effects of that distortion. Have you been used to push through your goals, you now will face artifical hurdles doing so. Over time that can be frustrating, with negative impact on your testosterone level. This will reduce the quality of your life dramatically. And further reduce your ability to assert your goals. It’s kind of a vicious circle that you must escape for the sake of your personal freedom (and in order to avoid feeling burned-out).

Counter strategies

Counter action should be taken on several dimensions. Some aim to protect you from negative impact, while others aim to boost your testosterone level.

My blog post “Surviving distress” gives you a good start. Over time your get to a good balance and can keen it even if you face distractions.

Reflect your conversations. Identify those you feel bad during or after. This should also include your media consumption, although that is mainly “one way communication”.

If you can’t avoid negative communication (with psychic vampires), brush up your negotiation skills. And of couse you may apply lesser magic. And higher magic if you want (you may want to refer to my blog post “Lesser and Higher Magic”).

Get enough sleep. Exercise regulalry (preferably weight training). Take care of health nutrition.

You can use supplements to boost your testo-level. There are distinct boosters available, but their dosage is for people that exercise regulalry. In any case you should consider your Vitamin D level, Omega 3 acids, zinc.

Ginseng: Peruanian Ginseng and Malaysian Ginseng combined are considered to be natural testo boosters (I have to admit that I did not try that myself).

Regular sex / orgasms boosts your test level, too.

I made good experiences with Nuad (Traditional Thai massage).

The above list quite comprehensive. I left out testosterone vaccines as they can be problematic. You however may want to discuss that with an andrologist of your choice. During the conversation you should refer to lifestyle therapies, if you show symptoms of a low testosterone level, although the according value seems to be ok.

Not sure whether you do everything off the cuff. But you can pick one of the counteractions and start with them. And then add the further ones until you feel convenient and push through your goals again. As I said: It’s a man’s world (with satanic witches as their allies).

[stevecoleridge-posts]

Day 6 ..Friday          Struggling .. which is why i did nt see the news or spend time on Social Media yesterday..          I thought it would be a breeze and after a little concentration id have it down .. but no , even the first part…known as lumpedy lump was proving tough , because of the triplet  walk up from the V to the 1.. and i think thats the part Jimmy Reed himself is playing…   If you ve read previous episodes you will know i refer to Honest I Do….the song.   Im learning it on a You Tube lesson , now a lot of people who think of themselves as pros , seem to think there s some sort  of stigma ro learning stuff on You Tube, but i know a French guy , of Spanish descent , who is a really hot Flamenco guitarist who has mastered nearly all the Palos , and all on You Tube  They are right, if you dedicate yourself to different songs at the same time, but it s like working form home…you need time and discipline ..and take the lessons very slowly and don’t move on till you can play it 20 times with your eyes shut..preferably standing up .. then move on up. Yesterday  was the first time i managed to do this.   There is a different tone on Social media today .. angrier , more prone to blame others, more censorious…and on one group forum i saw they were going to ban Humour..well , i don’t personally know the Group leader.. but it does nt take much imagination to know she s not someone you d want to be quarantined with.    The only thing to fear is fear itself.. well i certainly don’t think that applies in this situation, quite the reverse, the more frightened we are the less we will venture forth on errands that are not strictly necessary..i was on my way out the door , literally, when my mobile rang…it was the charming woman from the bank.. she d got my message .. id gone way over my limit.. which was why i could nt withdraw funds…She , and i won’t name her, is working from Home and sorted it all out on her laptop..no need for me to go to town..      Is nt that great?..well , I thought it was..and a good thing too,as she has not been provided with any masks..and we are talking about a Bank..if they cant get basic stuff like that no wonder the Government  are nt testing people .. they don’t have the wherewithal…it is nt as though this has nt been on the News everyday since December the something.    .I remember listening to Radio Four as i was driving through Slough, in December,… don’t ask … the M4 was closed..and i was listening to a woman in Wuhan describing how her parents were dying in the Street.. that really got my attention.   It did nt seem to get the attention of the people in charge here however, as when the inevitable arrived nearly three months later , they had done nothing to prepare for it.   The Spanish Disease is politics, it creeps into every corner of life and spreads its poison , a bit like you know what,..and in the past when people got fed up with their venal politicians there was a Military Coup , and then they realised maybe life was better before with democracy … and the cycle starts again. This model has been exported successfully to Latin America.. with the possible  exception of Mexico. and Costa Rica   Its all very well for us stodgy Northerners with our bad weather , to criticise, but Sun affects people,and when things are good they seem so much better  in the Sunshine..but something about Sunny weather produces Volatility, and an @ i won’t fix the roof as its not raining @ World View… and Italys  colossal death rate is the price to be paid .. not that it is nt sunny in China..or South Korea..but they do a lot more than just fix the roof..and to put  it down to Confucianism .. well  maybe best not to start on that.   Australia will be interesting, they have lots of sun , but its a pretty organised place ..and i don’t see them making this sort of Balls up.. also they have the experience of natural disasters,,and pulling together, and will not let Politics interfere…any country that had leaders with  names  like Abbott and Costello doesn’t waste too energy on petty politics.  The Current Classic example of petty minded, spiteful, pointless,  negative ,oppurtunism , is the  attempt on social media and what sup groups to denigrate the Royal Family organising people to rattle saucepans at a given time, because apparently the current King s father had a rather large amount of money in a Swiss Account..well, it was Saudi Money , not money stolen from the Spanish taxpayer, unlike the billions stolen by the previous administration , the PP .The idea for this stupidity was inspired by the Custom of applauding the Medical profession every night at eight o clock.. an excellent morale boosting , bringing everyone together kind of gesture..well everything has its opposite and this is an excellent way to breed more discontent and fracture an all ready pretty fractured society.. it beggars belief and you really have to have lived here to see these Barca Madrid  idiocies at first hand.   Barca Madrid is a term used to describe the divide and conquer ,us and them , attitudes that have stopped Spains progress since the collapse of their Empire, culminating in the most vicious Civil War in recent European History, and one would have hoped  that after 40 plus years of Democracy it would have disappeared , but sadly, like in the USA and a lot of other democracies , it seems to be on the increase.The anger on Social Media which results from the claustrophobic frustration of a lockdown will hopefully not boil over into something with unpleasant political consequences, which would be very sad , as after Francos death and the adoption of constitution that is the envy of many countries, Spain was a beacon of hope in the last quarter of the 20 th century… how the mighty are fallen .. one hopes not.. SPANISH LOCKDOWN DAY  7   Slept really well , but then  I remember reading that people on Death row sleep 16 hours a day so possibly not a good sign.   Last Night i watched the Spanish news ,on the main channel and things are looking up , relatively speaking, in the sense that testing has arrived ..someone, or some country, has sent several thousand, or may be half a million test kits.. which is obviously excellent news , and testing in  Galicia is going full steam ahead. There was the obligatory item about a vaccine..which I think one can take with a pinch of salt. .Military erecting field hospitals next to various main hospitals…the eight o clock applause of medical staff…all in all well put together not too desperately pessimistic, and generally not as disheartening as Facebook.. afterwards i felt like some light relief so we watched eleven episodes of 2 and half men,  in Spanish ,to cheer ourselves up before going to bed.   ..   Today i decided to live a normal day .. if such a thing were possible , so , after taking Tina for a walk i got the Old TV and DVD working and put on Marty Schwarz s Intermediate Blues Guitar Course part one…and it started raining .. so that was encouraging as it took away any temptation to venture outside.. except for firewood that is.   I worked through the course without rushing , but also without too much pausing , as i d done those lessons before, and all that repetition of Honest I do  is paying off..   On going outside for firewood i could not ignore the noise of the generator that kicked in yesterday evening, as we ve had not Sun for several days, so i decided to fill it up with diesel, and see how much 15 hours constant running had used,only half the 20 litre can to fill  up the tank…but was it full to begin with?..anyway it s very rare to have 4 days without sun , so even if it did use  13 euros of diesel  Im not going to freak out as that was expensive diesel.. and I’m entitled to use the cheaper stuff .Of cause i spilled Diesel over my hands , and shoes , and when i spent a good 5 minutes trying to wash the smell out i realised this was the ultimate anti virus test.. so i will leave a bowl of Diesel outside every time i go to town and use that as first part of the disinfection process , yet another excuse not to go to town.    My neighbour M.  rang and suggested i look at his scheme on Facebook to institute Food Deliveries , so one does nt have to go to the Supermarket in person  and infect and be infected… a good idea of course , but like so many , i don’t see it happening…I pointed out several objections , lack of drivers, expense, one would need a sort of Uber program which will probably not be ready for a year .. etc..and the Supermarkets are making so much money i doubt they need this sort of input.I promised to look at it later , which I will , as Lunch was ready.   We ve run out of  Bread ,Oranges and Chocolate, Aurora has broken a nail and the nail bars are closed till further notice…but otherwise  we can probably get through till Monday without suffering too much ..on the other hand Monday is probably the worst day to go shopping..Im toying with the idea of going to the small Supermarket, at 8 am Sunday morning, and hopefully having it to myself , as i cant face the idea of a queue. I know English people are supposed to love queueing but i must be an exception, and queuing nowadays is a High Risk Activity.    The Sun is out and i did one of the jobs from a month old to do list… pumping the water out the flooded pump room , it all went very well , and i felt  very worthy , and now , with the Sunshine it s time for a walk , with Tina , of course.   I return , feeling optimistic .. and the phone rings, i assume it s my neighbour asking if I’ve read his article.it isn’t , it s C another near neighbour, with some very bad news .  The police are in Quarantine…and the Army will soon be here. No Tobacco..as they will close the Tobacconist.  A completely different ball game  I rang M, and gave him the news…I f he d had  a kalashnikov  he d have been checking the magazine  I rang another neighbour  F, whose office is next to the Police Station , to warn him. .When the Rumour , comes to your Town , It Grows and Grows, Where it Started No-one Knows…*Robbie Robertson   I rang my source in the Town Hall G…no , it s only one cop , and he has nt got the results yet..   I rang M  again…he had spoken to his friend who is a Guardia Civil .no , it was nt a Cop it was a Guardia Civil..he also told me the Cuban woman who cleans houses had been stopped, by the Police and they checked the receipt for her shopping    I rang the first neighbour and corrected the original story        I opened Facebook .. and there was the original story , which had started a firestorm of comments along the likes of whats your source? etc as though we were in the Watergate hearings, not only that,  the people reading the story imagined it referred to Mojacar , not Carboneras , and were all frantically ringing the Police Staion , The Town Hall and each other to see if it were true.    The tones of the respective comments went from shrill outrage that anyone should suggest such a story without due documentation , to fear , to I knew this would happen, all these irresponsible idiots .. blah blah   It began to increasingly resemble an episode of Dads Army with a false alarm about a German Landing.., which Facebook does anyway    There is the Captain Mainwaring..@While i was out today making sure everyone was behaving themselves i saw these irresponsible panic shoppers,  and these people walking around without a good reason @     The Fraser .. We Re Doomed     The Air raid Warden…Its all the fault of the Ruling Class, and rules are rules etc     Jones ..Dont Panic... in a tone of complete hysteria    Pikes mother…Be sure to wear your gloves , motorcycle helmet , hazchem suit, mask..galoshes, .Do you have your hand sanitiser , all clothes must be burnt on reentry etc     By this time Auroras original alarm had been replaced by hilarity, as she was sitting by the fire hearing one side of these conversations..     I went out for some more wood and we relaxed by watching a Documentary about the Boeing 737 MAX..complete with simulation in the Pilots cockpit    The best part was the CEO of Boeing trying to justify his 30 million Dollar salary at a Congressional hearing..…i wondered what the Shareholders thought about that , i know what the victims families thought , as they were being interviewed and did nt sound too impressed

[boomtown-adventures]

Boomtown: Area 404

This is a journal of my adventure at Area 404, the new immersive music venue experience by Boomtown Fair. Please forgive any inaccuracies in my account as my memory is still a little hazy these days. Usually I take loads of photos and notes but Boomtown had asked us to keep our phones away so I don’t have as much to pull from as I usually would (although later on I was told I could take a few for the purposes of writing this after all - but I decided to do so sparingly). 

I hope you enjoy the following account of my adventure in Area 404 which was made possible by a brilliant set of actors, organisers and set designers. Big thanks to Martin, Kaptin, Dank Parish and everyone at Boomtown HQ who pretty much invited us into their home for the night.

Area 404 - The First Investigation

Area 404, formerly the Sector 6 Nuclear Facility, was still at the top of my investigation list and one of my chief concerns. We didn’t know enough about it and this troubled me. A nuclear meltdown is reported and then we hear next to no follow up news for a year? And not only was no news escaping from the site but it appeared no one seemed to have left the area since and only a handful of our investigative agents had managed to bring any information back from the area at all and the information they did bring was sparse to say the least. What had happened to all the workers? Why had no one been evacuated? And what of the rebels that had once lurked in the sewers below planning their revolution? 

The information we had managed to ascertain led us to believe that this was of the main sites for AMI’s data processing and assimilation. On top of that rumours of something being manufactured there were rife. People had been suggesting that AMI (the Artificial Machine Intelligence that now ran Boomtown) had actually caused the meltdown herself and she was now in control of the site. Whatever had happened at the Sector 6 Reactor had however seemed to have caused a knock on effect with both the fish stocks and soil quality in the surrounding neighbourhoods.

All we really knew for sure was that an exclusion zone had been set up in a large radius around the site and people had begun to refer to it as Area 404. 

It had been a couple of months since we had heard anything from 404 at all and over a year since the meltdown itself. Surprisingly the first to break the silence were the corporate giant OneCor, who had slid into the void left behind by Bang-Hai Technology when the entire Bang-Hai company had collapsed following a string of major scandals.

PRESS RELEASE | GLOBAL MEDIA OUTLETS OneCor operatives are working around the clock to provide medicine and food supplements in response to the growing crisis in Area 404 of the former Sector 6 nuclear power station.

The Emergency Aid Upgrade (EAU) will provide those in the quarantine zone with a medical kit including an experimental vaccine as well as energy and morale boosting food and beverage rations.

OneCor CEO Gordon Romance said: The unfortunate events unfolding in Area 404 demand a direct and immediate response and we are ready at the frontline to assist. Our lab is primed to test the vaccination results for a prompt diagnosis and we are confident that our technology will offer a fast and robust solution for those affected. 

– ENDS –

Notes to editors:

EAU comes in a rugged but stylish, ready-to-roll, shock proof box. EAU medical kit includes experimental vaccine DC10X. EAU food and beverage rations include OneCor best-sellers, Alpine Milk and BoonPops.

This was followed by a large response from people commenting on the post begging to get hold of the DC10X vaccine as well as promises from the Hawkmaul Foundation Fellowship to provide boots on the ground and further research and investigation into the matter.

I myself made my own enquiry to OneCor’s very own Sally (Head of People) via Twitter. 

“What do we need to vaccinate against? I'm heading into the danger zone on Friday. Will DC10X be ready in time?” I asked. 

Further useful information was not forthcoming however and OneCor only seemed to repeat what had already been said in the press release stating “Hi, Jonny. I hope you are having a wonderful day. Our Emergency Aid Upgrades come ready-to-roll in a stylish but rugged shock proof box”

I had become suspicious of both OneCor and Gordon Romance over the past few months and was no longer sure I trusted the shallow seeming facade they showed the world. What was DC10X? Did the name itself hold any clues? Could it be related to roman numerals? Well 10 was indeed  X and DC was 600...but no that didn’t seem to get me much further.  Also EAU was french for water...could there be something in the water at 404 or even in the aid box itself? Was this just paranoia? I did feel like my levels of paranoia had risen each year since The Revolution… maybe there was something in the water...

I could no longer hold back, it was time to get to the bottom of this, so I began preparations to head an expedition through the wastelands of the  exclusion zone and into the depths of the Sector 6 nuclear complex itself. This mission was to be divided into 4 separate expeditions over the space of two weeks with myself and a small team spearheading the investigation as first on the ground. This first expedition was to arrive on the site on Friday the 1st of November 2019. Myself and my crew all got our survival gear together, comprising of breathing apparatus, protective goggles and clothing, along with tactical outfits, torches, scanners and testing equipment.

The day before our expedition we finally received some communication from the Bang-Hai Industries Employees still trapped inside the exclusion zone. Presumably one of the technicians had finally been able to repair some of the communications lines using the support OneCor had been sending into the zone.

Dear Citizens,

Following the explosion of Sector 6’s power plant, all Bang Hai Industry workers have been exposed to unprecedented levels of radiation and the blast has given birth to what is known as The Cloud. Exposure to this amorphous dust will warp your body and your mind. In lock down, AREA 404 has been in survival mode for a year. Rations and resources are desperately limited, we need new supplies from OneCor and your presence is urgently required.

In 33 hours the gates will open and we’ll welcome pilgrims from the wasteland who have bravely avoided exposure, to explore the dark corners of AREA 404 and discover its residents living with mutations, which must be regularly treated.

The Cloud is coming.

We travelled through a nuclear wasteland that reminded me a lot of a rather rainy Bristol, but in this case we presumed the rain itself was probably toxic. The journey itself was surprisingly without incident although it had taken us about 12 hours to finally reach the industrial complex. My core team consisted of myself, Becky, Ryan and Gemma. Gemma had even arrived via aircraft, flying in from the other side of Ireland. When we reached the old Sector 6 complex we found it to be heavily fortified with a large contingency of Bang-Hai Security forces still remaining to protect the gates. As we were marched along the exterior fences we heard what sounded like loud screams and growls coming from the inside.

“I’m starting to have second thoughts about this.” I said to one of the guards as he ushered us forwards to the checkpoint at the main gates. It took a few minutes of faffing about between us, but we eventually managed to locate all the relevant documents and ID cards that we needed to grant us entry into the main complex. A few steps and another line of security stopped us to give a full pat down, making sure we weren’t carrying anything dangerous or illegal.

We regrouped once through the gates and I made sure my breathing mask was fully secure. 

A group of Bang-Hai Industry Workers still dressed in their orange overalls stood further down the road that entered the industrial complex  One of them held a megaphone made out of scavenged parts. 

“Welcome Pilgrims. You are now entering the safe zone. Use of unauthorised technology is forbidden. All citizens are subject to spot checks for your own safety. Please maintain caution at all times. You have made it through the wasteland and survived. Welcome to paradise!”

Stood either side of him were two other orange-overalled workers that looked a little worse for wear, with various disfigurements that I presumed were either from the meltdown itself or the effects of The Cloud. One of them wore a breathing mask and held a torch in one hand. Our group was stopped again as this seemed to be a third and final check point for access.

“Are you infected? ARE YOU INFECTED?” they asked us, making us each roll up our sleeves so they could check our arms and shining the torch in our eyes to observe to check them as well.

“We’re clean. See! We’ve come to help from outside the exclusion zone.” I said pulling my sleeves up further. “What’s going on? What are you checking for?” I asked him as he finished checking my eyes.

“He’s the one to ask.” said the man muffled by his mask, indicating the one holding the megaphone. The person in question was currently shouting further instructions into his megaphone for the next lot of pilgrims who were entering behind us. I waited patiently to question him… looking round though I realised I was becoming separated from the rest of my team who had continued further into the complex. I turned and jogged up the road to catch up with them, thinking it was probably best to stick together for now.

The industrial complex that surrounded the old Sector 6 Nuclear Facility was a warren of roads, buildings, gantries and stairs. It was a mess but surprisingly intact. Bang-Hai Industries workers walked the streets  in their orange jumpsuits, mixing with pilgrims from the wasteland and groups of scavengers trading in junk and artifacts. Some of the area’s denizens had fared better than others. Indeed some of the less fortunate employees had become not only severely physically twisted but had become feral, losing their selves and their minds, becoming nothing more than wild zombies. The other workers still seemed to keep them out in the open but kept them on heavy chain leashes as if they were guard dogs hunting for something. Their handlers all carried some kind of makeshift cattleprod in case they did get out of hand. We tried to give these feral ghouls as wide berth where possible. 

The orange-suited workers seemed to be bringing all kinds of scrap and scavenged supplies in from the wasteland. As the scavengers reached the centre of the complex, their comrades lowered baskets down from their balconies up high, before hauling the materials up to safety for sorting and distribution amongst the survivors. One balcony seemed to be functioning as some kind of watch point and one of the workers had another megaphone shouting warnings and instructions to people on the ground.

“KEEP YOUR MASK ON AT ALL TIMES!” they shouted to Ryan who had temporarily removed his mask in order to talk easier. This was probably very good advice given the state of the survivors here, who knew what we could be breathing in and what may be contained in The Cloud.

We made sure to explore the area as best we could, down the dark alleyways and up the industrial staircases to the gantries and walkways above. The Engine Room seemed to be fully functional and was pumping out what sounded like a mix of urban classics mixed with soca vibes. As to what the engine may be for or what else it was generating, that remained a mystery. 

We managed to find a safe point up the road from the main gates from where I signalled our other operatives and scouting groups to rendezvous there if possible. I wasn’t sure if my signal was getting out across the wastelands until The Assguard (Personal Mercinary Service) managed to return my call, advising me they were closing in on the safe zone.

While awaiting their arrival I managed to run into a good handful of our agents who were already exploring the site. Those I did to run in to, I exchanged information and contact details with. Those lucky enough to find me early on, I rewarded with barrels of repurposed toxic waste from my own personal haul.

On top of my stash of toxic barrels I had also brought a bag full of bottle caps with me for trading with the survivors and wasteland. Some of these I gave to other agents and some of them I gave to the Tekno Wombles, the most famous of all the wasteland scavengers. We had first seen these hardened veterans of the wasteland on the drone footage from Area 404 that we had managed to recover earlier in the year. The Wombles, although very cautious and wary of me at first, were most appreciative of the gift and showed their thanks using hand gestures as the breathing masks severely hindered their communication. Some additional caps, I also gave to The Assguard when they arrived, who it was a real pleasure to finally meet in person.

The next place I stumbled upon was labelled the Mutant Dance. Beyond heavy metal industrial doors was a dark hot warehouse full of all sorts of odd mutated humans from the wasteland. Some wore masks and strange costumes and some looked so different I wondered if they were even from this planet. The temperature increased exponentially as you made your way further down the room past the strange gurning faces. My protective greatcoat was rather useful when out in the streets, but in this environment I was starting to overheat so I found myself mostly staying at the back near the doorway observing.

Some time later while myself and the rest of my party were hanging out near the main thoroughfare there appeared some kind of disturbance coming towards us. A group of survivors were returning from the outskirts clutching a large OneCor supply crate. The woman up on the balcony with the megaphone announced their triumphant return and a large group of survivors excitedly emerged from the doors and alleys of the safe zone. One worker, who seemed to have some kind of authority here, snatched the crate eagerly and placed it on the ground opening it. People tried to grab things but the stronger ones held them back and instead tried to distribute the rations and vaccines in some kind of orderly fashion but it was on the edge of turning into a chaotic free for all. Those who were starving clutched at the silver bags of food supplies and others grabbed the bottles of liquid and clung to them as if they were life itself. Also in the box seemed to be medicines, needles and containers of vaccines. 

“We have 17! 17 new doses!” declared the authoritarian worker.

Some of the needles were passed around to various people in the crowd who immediately injected them into their arms. The rest of the supplies were placed into metal baskets that were then hauled up to the balconies for safety to be distributed later when needed.

Later on we saw these vaccines put to real use as one of the survivors seemed to go weak, collapse and began having a violent seizure. The fit however soon seem to subside as soon as they were given an injection of the DC10X that had arrived in the supply crates. The effect was very impressive and very fast...almost as if an addict had just been given a high dose of their ‘fix’. Was this vaccine really making people better? Or had people just become addicted to it now?

One of the survivors saw me observing and came over to make sure I hadn’t become infected. They kept their own mask on securely  and again checked both my arms and my eyes but this time indicated for me to raise my mask and open my mouth so they could check that as well. Was this the third sign of possible infection? They seemed satisfied for now at least and let me go.

I followed where some of the people had gone and saw that they had retreated to some kind of medical room at the entrance to the Acid Chamber. The room seemed to be securely locked, possibly under some kind of quarantine procedure but we were able to observe through a thick perspex window. One of the workers were strapped onto some kind of medical bed as two other workers conducted experiments with petri dishes, test tubes and various pieces of scavenged scientific equipment. This time however when they gave the person the injection it seemed to make them worse sending them into a feral rage. The other workers tried to hold their crazed comrade down on the table, tightening the straps and administering some kind of sedative to try and calm them. Once their colleague was back under control they just resumed their experiments. On a closer look at the two makeshift ‘nurses’, both seemed to have blood round their own mouths and were partaking in drinking blood samples straight from pipettes and the petri dishes themselves. They were also injecting themselves with various needles and acting themselves more erratic as time went on. I found that I was actually glad that we were locked outside the room after all. Things were getting worse for these people, it seemed like they were slowly turning into some kind of crazed blood drinking zombies. I also took particular note of two more things I spied through the dirt encrusted windows, firstly a large antiquated device at one end of the room that seemed to be labelled A.M.I, and secondly that there was a very large amount of clocks all over the room and all of them seemed to be frozen at 1:50. 

We hung around this medical room for quite a while observing the behaviour of the people inside. Another survivor pulled himself up the concrete steps from outside to where we were stood and stumbled a little as he did, trying to balance himself on a single metal crutch. The man looked seriously ill as he himself peered through the window, placing his hand on his own breathing mask as he did.

“Are you feeling okay?” I asked him.

The man leaned over and spoke to me through the muffling sound of his mask. He told me something about whistling whispers fading to chaotic black...or something along those lines. I nodded to him as he hobbled back off into the night. Immediately I tried to get my notebook out to write it all down but found that by the time I started writing that I had already forgotten most of what he had told me. Maybe this place was starting to get to my mind too now…

Back out on the street one of the leashed feral zombies tried to come after me as it’s handler tried to hold it back.

“Keep it back! Keep them away from me!” I exclaimed, putting my arm up in defence, making sure goggles and mask were secure, before pulling out my scanning device which I waved over it, just out of reach. I couldn’t manage to get a clear reading but there were definitely very high levels of infection in it, it wasn’t just some kind of nuclear mutation, this was something biological. 

But what was the source? It seemed more and more that the surviving workers were using these zombies as either some kind of guard dogs or for detecting something. I had hoped that it was maybe just them looking after their former friends but a later discovery made that very unlikely. A short time after that I had found The Decontamination Room. The room’s entrances were covered with heavy plastic flaps and as we entered we saw all the walls had been covered in plastic that seemed to be heavily splattered in blood. Body parts hung from the roof on hooks as if this was an industrial butcher’s...but all the parts seemed to be human. Is this what they’re idea of decontamination was? Were they just murdering anyone that they decided were too infected?? This was a fate we definitely needed to avoid for ourselves. In a daze from this discovery I wandered through the hanging bodies and then came to another window, much like the one on the medical room. This time though I wasn’t sure if what I was seeing was real or some kind of hallucination. Sat behind a huge table was Rothchild, the former head of Bang-Hai Industries, but from his head had sprouted two black horns as if he were the devil himself. Across the table from him was a girl in a striped hooded top who looked like she could have been just a regular attendee to the yearly Boomtown Fair… but the girl seemed to look exactly like AMI, the AI that now ran the city. Given the recent evidence we had uncovered, myself and my group were fairly certain that AMI had been based on someone Rothchild had known and been obsessed with. Could this be that person? How were they connected to him? On the table between them was a great chess-like board that represented Boomtown itself. The two seemed to be locked in an eternal game as they moved the pieces around the board.

The game went on and on until AMI got angrier and angrier knocking all the pieces over and throwing them around the room. Is this what happened in reality? Was the nuclear meltdown AMI having her own meltdown in response to Bang-Hai’s pure evil?

Everything seemed to have some kind of representation on the board and in the room, from a Tiny Arcadia that had long ago been removed from the board, to the resources of the land itself. Rothchild himself took great glee in wasting the water that he seemed to be withholding from both the people and AMI, letting it drip slowly onto the floor. 

Eventually AMI begged him for just a drop of water, which Rothchild gave to her. In fact they were now acting less like opponents and more like a dark lord and his pet. Rothchild began feeding board pieces to AMI, everything from the cattle to the people, and AMI ate them up obediently and with a great hunger. Her behavior began to be more and more erratic and bizarre, as if mirroring the inhabitants of the Safe Zone. I found Rothchild was now looking over at me and I gave him a confused shrug as I tried to make sense of AMI’s behavior. The horned CEO and puppetmaster threw me back one of his trademark grins and well known evil laughs.

After a while AMI decided she no longer wanted to play the game and began to cower on the floor. Rothchild took this opportunity to attack her and started throwing her around the room, grinning as he did so. I banged against the window giving him a big thumbs down to which he looked he looked at me with indignation at first which then turned back into maniacal laughter as AMI fled from him.

Was I really hallucinating this all? Was this a window into another reality? Was this some kind of holographic simulation? I wasn’t sure but this metaphorical power struggle had me gripped.

I wandered the complex some more eventually finding myself in the towering Reactor Core room with it’s many levels. I couldn’t get any clear readings but the reactor now seemed to be fully functional again. The core seemed to be generating a lot of power but for what? The rumours seemed to indicate this was all AMI’s doing but for what reason?

The safe zone was getting busier and busier and a lot of the people had begun to exhibit a strange behavior. From across the now bustling room I saw what appeared to be a devilish Rothchild, still haunting me, making his way through the crowds with the hooded AMI before disappearing behind some curtains. I tried to follow for a moment but realised the phantoms were lost to me already. I made my way to the upper levels along with my expedition members to try and get my head together and refresh myself at a bar which was serving OneCor approved beverages in exchange for plastic. From this vantage point we could see the many pilgrims that had flocked to the safe zone tonight for their protection. Various travelling bands performed on stage to entertain the pilgrims. Maybe this really was some kind of paradise compared to the wastelands outside?

The busier it got, the harder it was to keep track of both the rest of the expedition and the other agents that were attending. I found my curiosity had lead me back to the medical room window. When I arrived I saw that one of the Tekno Wombles had been taken sick and was now strapped to the medical bed with 3 of the orange suited Bang-Hai workers now trying to treat him.

As I stared through the window a second Tekno Womble turned up and joined me taking off his mask and looking heartbroken and forlorn at his associate.

“The cloud has taken him.” he said with great emotion “How? How? We took every precaution! He is my brother. My brother!”

The 3 orange overalled amateur nurses began preparing the DC10X vaccine to give to the sickly Womble.

“No! You can’t do this!” said the one by my side as he banged on the window “It will kill him! It’s not safe!”

He moved to open the metal door but it seemed to be once more locked from the inside. He tried to force it but was getting nowhere and helplessly returned to the window with a defeated look to him.

As they injected the man on the table, the sick one began to have the same violent seizures as the previous occupant of the table, and began to heavily foam at the mouth.

“NOO! Nooo… BROTHER! They’re killing him” the second womble said banging on the window. The one on the table shook some more before suddenly the movement stopped and he went limp.

“The cloud has left him. My brother is dead…” said the man beside me crying as I tried to comfort him.

“I am so sorry for your loss.” I said shaking my head and watching the orange suits running round the table in a panic trying to do something.

“How long had he been sick for? What happened?” I asked but the man was too distraught and inconsolable. 

One of the technicians inside the room was now getting out some kind of home made scrap defibrillator which they hooked up to him. As they activated the device the man jolted back to life trying to burst from his restraints. They tried to hold him down as he thrashed and writhed. He had that same look in his eyes that I had seen in both the previous patient and the chained up zombies. The Womble no longer seemed the same person and there was certainly no joy from the brother on my side of the glass following this miraculous resurrection. I felt it was best to leave them to it at this point as I was aware I was entering the point of invading the privacy of the brother’s mourning.

This left me wondering though, what was in the cloud? Was is some kind of pollution? Was it biological warfare? If so who was responsible? Was it Bang-Hai and Rothchild? Was it AMI releasing clouds of Nano-Technology? Was the cloud really just made up of all the data that AMI had been uploading and storing? If so why was it affecting people in this way? Or was The Cloud nothing to do with people being sick? I kept thinking that the person most obsessed with clouds the past few years was Mr. Bliss, one of the richest men in Boomtown and one of the group called The Cygnets (allegedly). Could he be involved? He had already tried killing people using radioactive fibers taken from Area 404 (allegedly) so he must have sent someone here. We knew he was already trying to wipe more people out to get rid of the ‘excess poor people’ (allegedly). I really did have more questions than answers now since coming to the safe zone. I was certain though that the DC10X was making people worse now though and that OneCor was partially responsible for this. Gordon Romance (their CEO) had a lot to answer for. Maybe the next weeks called for some hard hitting journalism and questions. Was this a bridge I should publically burn though? It could come back to bite me in the ass at a later point if I did.

I walked the corridors, alleys, warehouses and gantries for a while, thinking and taking it all in. A few times I saw a flash of blue as an AMI Android marched past expressionless going about whatever mysterious business it was doing. People had spotted a good few of these models had been about this evening. In fact sightings of them were becoming more and more common. They’re goals were as obfuscated as the central AI itself though.

There were two bits of the Area 404 industrial complex that seemed to be rather odd and out of place. Both of these appeared to be some kind of religious shrines. One seemed to be depicting AMI as a golden-throned cornucopic goddess playing her game of chess within the confines of Boomtown with the Sector 6 Reactor at the centre. A second shrine seemed to depict a doll head which looked much like the cherub emblem on the top of both AMI’s throne and proudly displayed on the protective suits of the Tekno Wombles. This dolls head was accompanied by clocks which were again stuck on the time of 1:50 and seemed to be surrounded by flowers, greenery and some kind of fibre optics.

As my own Pip-Boy Wristwatch hit 1:50 I made sure to check all the areas I had explored so far just in case this was the time something significant was happening at this now well publicised time. When I searched through the complex though I found that all the orange suited Bang-Hai employees had vanished, presumably retreating to wherever it was they were safely laying their heads down for the night. It had been worth a shot but the clocks were obviously more of a mysterious clue than an instruction. I remembered that a similar thing had been observed in Oldtown during the fair. People had been given cards showing showing this time from AMI at De Graff’s Reformatory. Our agents at the time had tried to find something happening at that time but nothing of note seemed to occur at this hour.

Agent Janna had mentioned that all the clocks had stopped on that occasion and Xander Hawkmaul had said that it was always “ten to too”. 

Ten to Two, Ten Tu-Tu, 10 22, 1022… there must be some significance. As I puzzled this out by the Engine Room I man in a white boiler suit ran up to me.

“Are you Jonny?” he asked excitedly, clutching 3 dark brown looking drinks in his hands.

“Yes. Do I know you from The Group?” I asked him.

“Don’t take the vaccine. That’s some bad shit man! I can’t tell you any more. I’ve been working for OneCor for about 6 months now. I could lose my job over this!” he slurred before running off into the crowd leaving me rather surprised and baffled by the very quick exchange.

The rest of the night was mostly uneventful and as it reached 3:30 in the morning we decided it was best to order our extraction vehicle and return to base. It had been an interesting time to be sure and I was sure this wouldn’t be the end of our dealings with Area 404. We would get to the bottom of things one day, that I was sure.

To close this journal entry I will leave you with some final words from OneCor’s CEO, Gordon Romance.

Wishing brave citizens 

@area404complex

 all the best for a speedy recovery and fast exit - thanks to our fantastic EAU (Emergency Aid Upgrade) packs and wonder vaccine DC10X 🥂 #area404 #FirstResponders #inspirationalquotes #radiationsickness #OneCor #BeautifulFuture.

[paulasamuels]

I've done a lot of traveling in my life, and while it's not exactly possible for me to rank trips in order from best to worst, I can definitely rule this one out as the best...or anywhere close to it. What I can say is that it ranks highly as one of the strangest.

Covid has turned our world upside down in many regards, and the world of travel is no exception. I struggled for months with my decision about summer travel plans, coming very close to throwing caution to the wind and going back to Europe for the first time Post-covid. Ultimately though, I chose what I thought was an easier trip and a safer bet: an Alaskan cruise. The requirements seemed clear and manageable, and as long as I could stay healthy, the rest should be simple. As you know from my earlier post, though, that didn't happen, despite being fully vaccinated and twice boosted against Covid.

I've experienced travel setbacks before. Mari, my friend and travel guru, has been a wonderful role model in terms of teaching me how to turn setbacks into opportunities and make different, but still great, travel memories. But I've never been faced with a scenario like this before. Within 24 hours of being denied boarding for the cruise, I had significant Covid symptoms. Should I change my flight plans and go home early, risking infecting some of the 90%+ of the passengers who weren't wearing masks? (To be clear, I'm traveling with 2 N-95 masks and wearing one faithfully when I'm indoors with other people or in crowded outdoor settings, but is that enough to protect the maskless?) Ultimately, I decided the best option was to keep traveling but lay low, keeping to myself as much as possible and taking the necessary precautions to keep from infecting anyone else. I stayed in Seattle, mostly in my hotel room, medicating myself with Coricidin and cough drops until I felt physically capable of moving on, at which point I rented a car that became my Covid bubble. I haven't even eaten inside a restaurant since before I knew I was sick.

From where I stand now, one week after I left home, I'm convinced I made the right decision. I'm physically feeling much better and have been diligent in my efforts to protect the people I've encountered along the way. By the time I fly home next week, I should be Covid-free, having survived not only a miserable illness, but also this stranger-than-life travel adventure.

[evilsciencebros]

I’ll Wait For You

“Autobots confirmed. Commencing attack.” This was supposed to be a stealth mission, but when your partner is a hulking behemoth of blue and white terror, then stealth wasn’t really an option to begin with.

“I would really appreciate a boost.” Oil Slick says as retreats from the Autobot blasters and runs towards Grinder, who needs little to no instruction as he holds out his powerful arm for Oil Slick to jump on and hurl him into the air.

The cyclebot braces himself as he flies upwards and grips onto the nearest balconies of the security tower. Climbing over, he runs along the platform and slashes his claws at the unsuspected snipers aiming for Grinder’s large mass below. The Autobot doesn’t see him coming and falls over the railing and into the brawl pit below where his partner is firing a wave of enemy fire on the approaching Autobot grounders.

Oil Slick continues to climb each level, taking out another security guard. Who knew a radar tower would have such heavy security? He searches the entire facility before finally finding the control room. A simple firewall and he was into the mainframe, downloading the Autobot airfleet schematics and crippling the entire network with a virus of his own. Child’s play.

He quickly rejoins Grinder on the battlefield, who doesn’t seem to register the enemy’s ineffective blasts as he takes down the radar towers. The two work effectively despite their obvious different approaches to fighting. Oil Slick is quick on his pedes and good at getting close for the sharp blows, whereas Grinder is big on brute strength and attacking from a distance. They work off each other well.

Too caught up in the moment, Oil Slick can’t bring himself to pass up on such a perfect opportunity. Reaching into his sub compartment, the chemist pulls out a small phial of green pulsating liquid and flings it in the direction of the enemy, smiling as it shatters and unleashes a brown vapour over the facility.

The effects are instantaneous, with Autobots clutching at their throats and dropping to their knees. It’s better than anything he could have dreamed of. Unfortunately, it works too well. The Autobots panic, bumping into each other and spreading the virus. One doesn’t even notice Grinder until he bumps right into his leg.

“Grinder!” Panicking, Oil Slick rushes over to the larger mech, who has yet to figure out what is going on.

The disease spreads up his legs, corroding the metal and peeling it right off his hip joint. Pulling out a florescent blue vaccine from his other pocket, Oil Slick is by Grinder’s side as the behemoth finally drops to his knees, feeling the pain. The effect is undone by a simple injection, but the guilt is still there as Grinder nurses his leg.

“Hate it when you use that.” Grinder shakes his helm. “It’s unstable.”

“Don’t move.” Oil Slick says as he watches the wound heal. “It just needs a bit more tinkering then it’ll be perfect.”

“Perfect for what?” Grinder asks, ignoring his partner’s advice and climbing back to his pedes

“My opportunity to show Megatron just what a valuable asset I could be to his cause.” Oil Slick gestures to the destruction around them as the Autobots drop like flies under his toxin.

Grinder made a cross between a laugh and grunt. “Stick to what you’re good at, getting past enemy lines and sabotaging spaceships.” He pats the smaller mech on the back and effectively dodges the sharp claws aiming for his chassis.

“I was made for more than dismantling ruddy spacecrafts!”

“No we weren’t.” Grinder says with that simplistic wisdom he always seems to possess. “I was made to be a soldier, you were made to be a mechanic. We now use our skills for a different cause, but they are still within the guidelines of our function. I now aim at something else, and you take apart what you originally built.”

“How can you be so content with that?” Oil Slick cringes at the memory of his old, dreary life. “I refuse to be what they forged me to be. I have skills those fools at the Ministry of Science could only dream of possessing, if I had only been given clearance to change trades.”

“Is what it is.” Grinder shrugs and casually walks away from the carnage around them. “A motorbike will always be a motorbike, and a helicopter will always be a helicopter. You cannot change this.”

“Not with that attitude.” Oil Slick frowns but follows, having trouble keeping up with Grinder’s longer strides. “Why did you join this war if not to change the world?”

“I only wish to be treated as equal to all bots, regardless of function. There is nothing shameful about being forged for a set purpose. We perform it well and should be treated with respect for it.”

Oil Slick hums to himself and while he does agree with Grinder’s sentiment, he has higher goals in mind for what his short-sighted companion has in mind. A Cybertronian does not diverge from the path they were set on, but Oil Slick will be damned before he allows another to decide what he is and is not good at.

~

“What happened?”

“Been accepted into the Decepticon Heavy Brigade.” Grinder says, pointing to the plum purple band across his Decepticon symbol. ���Handpicked by Lord Megatron himself. The Wreckers are sneaking behind enemy lines interrupting supply routes and demolishing shipyards. It is an important job and I accept it with honour.”

Oil Slick can’t help but smile at the pride in Grinder’s faceplate.

“He finally saw your worth.” The Chemist muses, thinking back on how far they’ve come since running errands for the Decepticon cause.

“Everyone has worth in the eyes of the Decepticons.” Grinder spoke those words like they were his own personal mantra. Nothing could break this ideology. “I leave at first light. Won’t be back until our mission is complete and the Wreckers are offline.”

The two had been together for a million stellarcycles now. It was strange to hear they would no longer be working together after becoming such a tight unit for so long. “And what about you?”

Oil Slick gripped the phial he was holding in his servos tighter, nearly fracturing the glass. His own moment of glory brewing in his mind’s eye.

“I’ve been given permission to go ahead with initial test run by that mad doctor, Scalpel. If I succeed in my endevours then this demonstration will finally prove to Megatron that I am worthy of a place on his science division.”

Grinder nods and wishes him the best of luck. This was it. No turning back now for either of them. Grinder was not one for words, so he didn’t even try to string a proper farewell together. Instead he pulled the smaller mech into an embrace squeezing his friend tightly.

“Grinder!” Oil Slick laughs as he feels his chassis crushing in on itself. “Put me down you oath!”

“I will return to you.” Grinder vows, holding Oil Slick to optic level. “Then we can return to Cybertron together.”

The chemist smiles down at the Brigader and cups the larger mech’s faceplate between his clawed servos. “You better.” Their foreheads touch and a moment passes between them, only for a moment, but they held each other’s gaze for what felt like a lifetime before Grinder finally put Oil Slick down. “Don’t make me hunt you down.”

“I’ll wait for you at this spot where we first met.”

Little did he know that that night would be the last time he ever spent with Grinder.

~

Millions of stellar cycles passed since that night, Oil Slick’s cosmic rust crippled many Autobot soldiers but it failed to reached the critical acclaim he had been craving for before it was effectively nullified by a medic who managed to outsmart him at his own game. The Decepticons lost the war and were banished from Cybertron. Now they were in the middle of trans-mutating organic planets and rebuilding their old lives. Oil Slick ended up right back where he started, fixing spaceships for living. The irony was not lost on him. It was only by pure chance that he had even made a bleep on General Strika’s radar, who quickly snatched him up for her own personal attack squad.

Oil Slick was sitting in the briefing room for his general to return with the rest of her team, chin resting in his palm as he gazed out the window of her ship, mind wandering back to when he was younger and so full of amibtion.

The door slides open and he sits at attention when a familiar silhouette passes through the threshold. A bulky frame with a hunched back, talon like feet, and propellers hanging from his shoulder’s like a regal cape. 

“Grinder?” Oil Slick falters, stumbling to his pedes. No, not Grinder. They were the same in frame but his behemoth towered over even Grinder’s impressive stature. The colour scheme was all wrong too. The soft blue and icy hues of his dimwitted companion were instead replaced with all black and red edges. 

“Oil Slick, this is our newest addition, Blackout.” General Strika introduced the two and rose a curious optic ridge at how the scientist curled in on himself, almost defensively as he sized up the larger mech who stared back at him blankly, having yet to utter a single word. “Blackout will be my second in command, as no one can stand against the might of his strength and loyalty.”

The two mechs still didn’t exchange a single word. Blackout didn’t seem very bright to Oil Slick, slow and hardly worthy or a title of second if all he had to offer was brute strength.

“Just don’t get in my way.” He tsks, finally breaking eye contact. Oil Slick didn’t like looking into those red optics for too long. The facial structure was far to familiar for him to be comfortable with.

Oil Slick didn’t notice Strika speaking or that she had already left the briefing room to deal with other matters, leaving the two alone together.

“You said Grinder.” Blackout’s vocals were just as slow and deep as Grinders, but whereas as Grinder’s had a low icy howl to it, Blackout was a roaring furance. “I led the Heavy Brigade. There was four of us. Me, Bulgy, Venom and Grinder.”

Oil Slick feels his throat tighten and thinks he’s about to be sick.

“I still wear Brigade band in their honour.” Blackout taps the dark purple band across his insignia. “To remember them. They were good bots.”

“Who did it?” Oil Slick asked solemnly, still avoiding looking him in the optics.

“Do not know his name.” Blackout shakes his helm. “Took down their leader, though, Impactor Major and his Omega Sentinel, Zeta Supreme. I was the only one to walk away from the battle. If the rest of the Wrecker’s survived, they quickly disbanded soon after.”

That wasn’t good enough for Oil Slick. Grinder was dead and the one responsible might still be alive. It infuriated him clean and impersonal Blackout made it all sound, as if it was another day on the job. There was nothing heroic about honouring his fallen comrades by wearing a pointless badge. He should be out there finishing the job he started.

“I know your designation.” Blackout interrupts the chemist’s brooding. “He spoke very highly of you.”

Oil Slick recoils at that, clutching his chair.

“I need to go finish setting up the lab Genera Strika has provided for me.” He quickly shoves past the Brigadier and doesn’t look back until he’s safely hidden inside his office.

Alone he stands in the middle of his suite, boxes stacked up on the floor and workbench, waiting to be unpacked. 

“You idiot!” He roars, throwing what little personal effects he owned across the room, satisfied to hear them shatter and break. “You couldn’t even go out in a blaze of glory or something more respectful than a footnote in the obituaries!”

Finally, when there was nothing left to throw, nothing left to destroy or inflict pain upon, Oil Slick stood alone in the remains of the hurricane of destruction he caused, optics bright and ominous as he felt the venom in his veins boiling.

Blackout might be satisfied taking down the Wrecker’s ship and leader, but Oil slick would not let this die until he found the one responsible for Grinder’s death and make them suffer...slowly.

Rummaging through the remains of his equipment, and holds up a single glass phial that somehow escaped unscathed. Undoing the seal, watches the sickly green liquid bubble over, giving off a toxic cloud vapour. Pouring the test tube over a discarded sample of cybertronian alloy, Oil Slick watches with great pleasure as it quickly eats away at the surface.

“If it can do just that, I wonder what damage just a single drop could do to one’s optic processor.” He purrs, just imaging his next victim straps down to a medical berth as he slowly, painfully, interrogated them for information on the whereabouts of the surviving wreckers.

“I can wait.” He vows. “No matter how long it takes I’ll find him and I’ll kill him.”

[uprootedandrelentless]

2021 Review - Miraya

And just like that, another year is in the books. I decided to continue writing my yearly recap because it’s become tradition and quite interesting to look back years later at my musings of what was important.

This time last year I was living in an apartment in Oakland, working at an event tech startup and hopeful to bring my events business back into the world. Cut to this year and I am sitting in the office of our new Alameda house on PTO from my job as Community Manager of Dreyer’s Grand Ice Cream. I’ve been fully employed for 6 months now and the thought of planning a festival feels less and less exciting. Matt and I moved into our new house, after 5 months of hunting, the day after my 31st birthday, and the day after that I commuted from my new neighborhood to my new job. It was like a new life overnight.

Our Oakland apartment (above) and our new Alameda house (below)

Some things have stayed the same. Sadly Covid is very much still around, and we wear masks and hand sanitize and socially distance, same as last year. It’s hard to believe we’re in the same boat as we were, though now vaccinated and boosted, almost 2 years later. Other things that have stayed the same are that some of my favorite nights are making dinner at home and curling up on the couch with Matt and Rocky to watch a movie or a new episode of our latest TV show. We play board games, take walks in Alameda, and enjoy spending time together, just the two of us.

I’m grateful to be near my family and many friends. We regularly have dinners with Matt’s mom and brother and his girlfriend. I meet up with friends for walks and meals. Friends who aren’t close by, I try to connect with via phone or video calls, and even have monthly meetups with my mastermind group and friends from The Assembly (my once IRL co-working space). We even snuck in a few trips - Palm Springs (my yearly tradition since 2017 to visit at least once a year), Hawaii, New York (to clear out my last storage of all my event supplies), Montana to see family and Mineappolis to visit Marina and finally get to meet her baby Keller.

Matt and my wedding will be March 2022 in Carmel Valley. The world felt like it was getting better after Covid vaccines, but now suddenly we’re in a new surge. I really hope we won’t all have to be in masks at our wedding, and really just hope it can happen and our guests will feel comfortable to travel and be together. Wedding planning has had its ups and downs so far, there are a lot of decisions to make which can get overwhelming. We want to plan a memorable and unique weekend and since I’m not event planning right now for work, I am trying to channel my creative and logistic energy into the wedding.

In 2021 I read 30 books and watched 48 TV series (some of which multiple seasons) and 123 movies. A lot, I know! Here are some of my favorites, in no particular order:

Books

I Want To Be Where the Normal People Are by Rachel Bloom

Anxious People by Fredrik Backman

Crying in H-Mart by Michelle Zauner

Greenlights by Matthew McConaughey (as an audiobook!)

Malibu Rising by Taylor Jenkins Reid

Creative Confidence: Unleashing the Creative Potential Within Us All by Tom Kelley, David Kelley

The Power of Ritual: How to Create Meaning and Connection in Everything You Do by: Casper ter Kuile

Movies

Licorice Pizza

Spider-Man: No Way Home

In The Heights

Love Hard

Luca

7 Days

The Mitchells vs. The Machines

Language Lessons

To All The Boys: Always and Forever

TV

The Flight Attendant

WandaVision

Cobra Kai season 1-3

White Lotus

Ted Lasso season 2

Only Murders in the Building

The Other Two season 1-2

Pen15 season 2 part 2

Stylish with Jenna Lyons

My end of year resolutions always sound the same - eat healthy food, work out more, be kinder to myself. This year I am adding in to be kinder to the environment. The last movie we watched of the year was Just Look Up, a satire on global warming, which was cringey because it was so real. Matt and I set resolutions to reduce waste, like limiting to one Amazon order per month, buying more veggies that are not wrapped in plastic and starting meatless Mondays. These feel like bigger impact resolutions than ones purely about myself.

All things considered, I feel so lucky for all that happened in my slice of life in 2021. I truly hope the world is healthier and safer when I write this review next year.

-Miraya

[cafe-annie]

January 1, 2022

What a better way to start the new year than to look back at 2021 and list down all of the things I’m thankful for.

Kurzgesagt – In a Nutshell. It was their video “An Antidote to Dissatisfaction” that got me started in gratitude journaling. It might be a bit overdramatic but this video was the boost of hope I needed. A hope to what, I’m honestly not quite sure. But I was able to build upon that hope until my view of life became a little brighter. 

Also their video with John Green called “The Past We Can Never Return To – The Anthropocene Reviewed”. Something about that video touched me deeply and made me long for a place that I once knew but has somehow been forgotten. It inspired me to pick up a book (specifically The Anthropocene Reviewed) to read after so many years of not having the time to read. I say that, but honestly I’ve been lazy and too uninspired to immerse myself into the wonders and beauty a good book can offer. The video also inspired me to write again. 

Promotion. I got promoted to a supervising position last year. And while it has been very very tough adjusting to a leadership position, I’m so grateful for the recognition and the higher pay. My finances had been pretty stable and we were able to get through last year’s tough expenses and financial emergencies because of it.

Work. My relationship with my co-workers became more solid than ever. We went through multiple trials by fire, but we emerged as better soldiers. My confidence and public speaking skills were put to the test. I’ve always been so painfully shy, but I think I did pretty well when it came to presentations, meetings, and speaking in public. 

We had two new employees as well and I greatly enjoyed teaching and training them. I’ve always had a... well not exactly a passion, but something like a gentle inclination... towards teaching. Who knows, if I proved to be good at this, I might look into some hobbies or extra-curricular related to teaching. 

My face. It might sound a tad conceited but I’m quite happy with the way my face looks. I’ve always struggled with acne since I was 18-ish and in the past couple of years I’ve had a hard time getting rid of them. So in mid-2020, I decided to visit a new dermatologist and amp up my skin care routine. I managed to keep the acnes at bay in 2021 and it was so refreshing having to look in the mirror and actually like the face that stared back at me.

My health. With the world being plagued by COVID-19 and its increasingly unpredictable variants, most of us kept our health. Me, my family, Enzo, and most of the people around us managed to get the vaccine the moment we were able to. Enzo even got his booster shot last month. And while we lost loved ones last year, I will carry the strength, love, and wisdom they imparted with every step I take.

My family. We are happy. We are healthy. We have each other’s backs and it’s all I could hope for.

My love. If there’s one thing I did right, it’s him. Three years together and my heart still flutters like a thousand butterflies just by the thought of him. He is my light. He’s the warm blanket in all my cold nights. I could write a hundred page journal about him, detailing everything I’m grateful for. But tonight, I will simply pay gratitude to the universe for gifting me this wonderous soul and his unconditional love.

There are more things I’m grateful for in 2021, but these are the first things that came to mind.