FirstNext
Well, it only took Canada burning and the East Coast turning into smoky rendition of a Mexico filter for this chapter to finally reach completion. Regularly-scheduled programming should hopefully resume after July 4th. Until then, drink some water, don't do gender reveals in the forest, and hang in there, guys!
Pursuant to Imperial Decree 10928, and in recognition of the reservist nature of the unit, the 1st Rocket Artillery Regiment has been found to satisfy the standards outlined in the Decree. However, in light of the significant budget and nonmaterial resource allocations that were required to bring the aforementioned unit up to levels considered satisfactory by existing standards, additional considerations beyond readiness and training levels must be taken into account.
Throughout the appeals process, you have repeatedly indicated that you believe rocket artillery to still have a place on the modern battlefield, citing recent reports from the Terran Planetary District command of the Sol System sector, as well as early after-action reports from the Intervention on Raknos, which you claim to support your argument. However, further investigation into this claim by independent analysts on behalf of Armored Warfare Command has found it to hold no merit in light of the recent restructuring outlined in detail in prior communications. Simply put, neither the Empress, nor her advisors, believe that the maintenance and garrisoning of units intended strictly for low-intensity counter-insurgency operations remains doctrinally viable.
Additionally, the excessive monetary and nonmonetary resources you requested in preparation for the evaluation, in light of the on-par, verging on substandard performance of the 1st Rocket Artillery Regiment, even accounting for the large number of fresh troops that needed to be drawn down from other posts to fill out its ranks, is highly suggestive on the part of you, the honorable Ashira Rakishal. This discrepancy is of high importance, and you may rest assured that it has already been publicly filed by the time this letter appears in your inbox.
Such a discrepancy is indicative of either incompetence or corruption on your part. Commanding officers may face demotion or a possible dishonorable discharge for the former, or, for the latter, a fine totalling no more than one-and-a-half times the estimated sum of the damages assessed, guaranteed dishonorable discharge and a potential prison term of no more than four years. Due to there being no evidence to suggest the latter, the former approach has been suggested by the Armored Warfare Command. Effective fourteen (14) days after this order is signed, your rank will be reduced and you will be relieved of commanding the Regiment. You may be restationed at this time, and your government-issued devices may be deactivated to facilitate this restationing. The 1st Rocket Artillery Division, in accordance with Decree 10928, will be dissolved and its assets relocated to other units wherever possible. Any remaining property will be auctioned under section 12.57.3(g) of the Naval and Marine Surplus Handling Act of 651 at the Val’tira Central Forwarding Depot.
Ashira finished reading the letter, but the words meant nothing to her. She hadn't slept in half a week, if not longer, in anticipation of the results from her hearing. In fact, she'd hardly gotten up from her desk; the 1st RAR was on leave until the final verdict would be announced publicly, and it was all she could do but to refresh her inbox every few minutes and watch mindless clips in the background that she hardly heard and never managed to remember a word from.
She tried reading it again, but the letters seemed to float off the screen, each one wrapped in a halo of bluish white screen glow. Nothing made sense.
'We were found to be satisfactory, but then… why does it talk about my rank? Am I getting promoted? There was something about dishonorable discharges, too, so… are some of my girls getting let go? I guess I will have to break the news to them. And it said something about budget overruns… well, mom still owes me from when she forgot to get me anything for my eighteenth last month, so I guess she can pay them back for all the equipment and training I had to authorize…'
Her thoughts were already drifting off into a vague haze when her stomach made a low noise, reminding her of the fact that she hadn't eaten in hours, mostly because her supply of food had run dry. Almost in a trance, she rose from her desk and, almost on autopilot, set about getting ready to go out and do some shopping, as she always did. The floor of her living quarters was almost entirely hidden by weeks-old discarded packaging, mountains of dirty clothes, and bottles half-filled with liquid that was either expired juice or urine. Narrow paths snaked through the mess; one to the bathroom, one to her bed, and one more still to the door, which she now slowly shambled towards.
Ashira pulled a pair of battered combat boots over her bare feet - she'd run out of socks that didn't offend her senses some weeks prior - without bothering to lace them, shoved her wallet into the front pocket of the fireproof jumpsuit she wore with absolutely nothing underneath and hadn't changed out of all week, and shoved the door open to head out. Immediately, the smell - or, perhaps, a lack thereof - of the corridor hit her. All the sleeping quarters were locked. It was quiet. Though her boots were heavy, her footsteps barely made a noise as she plodded along the thick, purple and topaz-blue carpet that lined the floor.
The door to the lobby was propped open by a cleaner's cart, and a heavy perfume of chemical detergents wafted through the opening as she approached. In the lobby was a small, older Helkam male, with his long and, in places, graying hair tied back with a beige bandana that matched his civilian contractor's coveralls, just as his green noise-canceling headphones matched the company logo on his uniform. He was dutifully mopping the already nigh-spotless polished stone floor, and there was only a narrow dry strip connecting doorway to doorway.
“‘Scuse me,” she mumbled, tapping him on the shoulder to alert him to her presence. “Coming through.”
He flinched away from her touch, and she flinched away from him, as though his own shock was contagious. “The fuck, you touch me!?” He exclaimed, whipping around to face her, mop at the ready like a Turox-prod. His face burned a pale but furious violet, contorted with fear and a readiness to fight. But, just as suddenly as he’d come to face her, his expression became one of confusion. His mop dipped down, and they stood in silence for a split second that seemed to drag on for entire minutes. Then, he made an odd face, as if of disgust or contempt, and stepped aside, motioning for her to pass by him.
Ashira would have been puzzled by this, if only she were not so frazzled and caught up in her own thoughts. She stepped outside and was immediately hit by a cool breeze; it was night out, and the wind blew in just as it always did. Not that it bothered her much; over the previous months, she had found that it didn’t seem to affect her very much. The only reason she wasn’t feeling the full brunt of the evening gales was that the buildings around the officer’s quarters were mostly two- and three-story affairs, their height and old, weathered stone cladding the last specters of the prominence and prestige the base enjoyed in the long-before times. Before the Unification Wars were but a distant memory. Before the Periphery had become the final, unconquerable frontier. Before the Empress-damned mess that was Raknos. Before Rocket Artillery had become hopelessly obsolete.
The wind blew, relentless and steadfast, as she trudged towards the only place on-base that still had its lights on. The general store. She didn’t know what she wanted to buy there, nor if there would indeed be anything on the shelves that she’d want to buy, but she felt she had to try, anyway. The only rest she could get now was chemically-assisted, either through over-the-counter sleeping pills, or copious volumes of booze, or, when the going got particularly rough, a combination of both. She was vaguely aware of the damage she was probably inflicting upon her organs, but she figured that they were a worthy sacrifice. Still, some days she couldn't fall asleep, even boozed up and medicated as much as she would dare, so she would lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, hoping that the splitting headaches she would get from that chemical cocktail would make her ears ring loud enough to drown out her intrusive thoughts.
The store wasn't particularly warm when she entered, and it reeked of cigarette smoke and mildew as always. The nearest set of shelves to the door were stocked with bags of some sort of imported breaded meat snacks labeled Pufriyah - Ancestral Recipe, Modern Taste! across the top shelf and cases of Red Grains across the bottom, as if some long-forgotten planner had seen into the future and anticipated Ashira's shopping habits exactly. Without much thought, she pulled a case of the Reds off the bottom shelf, her back, which had been sore for months by then, crying out in pain that just barely cut through her apathy. She threw a few bags of the Pufriyah snacks on top of it, entirely indifferent to their name, slogan, and brown-furred chibi mascot that spoke to their Rakiri intended consumer base.
'It's all just carbs and protein at the end of the day,' she figured. It wasn't like she could taste much of them anyway, had she really cared to learn their flavor. It was close to a month prior that she'd caught a nasty cold, and her constant sleep deprivation and stress hadn't lent themselves to it clearing itself up on its own. Her senses of taste and smell were unnecessary to her whipping her unit into shape, she'd decided, once she learned that the antivirals she needed to take to make her symptoms clear up would need her to be on bed rest for three straight days. She could always take them later, anyway.
The bottles of Red Grain clanked against each other as Ashira heaved the case onto the checkout counter. The bags on top of it slid off, and she only just caught them in time. The noise awoke the lone cashier, another civilian contractor, from her nap atop her wobbly three-legged stool. She quite inelegantly hopped off of it and came to lean against the counter with one hand, the other lazily waving the scanner of a specialized Data-Slate over the merchandise.
"ID for the Reds," the cashier groggily slurred out, patting down her many pockets in search of a cigarette box. "Standard procedure, nothing personal against you."
Ashira stared at her, dumbfounded, for a few moments too many, before it hit her that she needed to pull up her Marine Profile on her Slate. Mumbling an apology mixed with an excuse, she reached into one of the few - albeit cavernously huge - pockets of her fireproof suit and produced the grimy government-issue device in question. The lock screen was set to her ID, just to make such common interactions go by quicker.
She pushed the Slate across the counter, expecting to get it slid back to her in a few moments, and maybe a manufactured smile and a nod if the cashier noticed the Rakishal House crest in the corner and realized she was of noble blood. But this time, none of that happened. The woman across from her frowned, squinting as she analyzed something about the ID, her face no more than perhaps a few centimeters from it. She looked up at Ashira, then back down at the ID, then back at her, and then all of a sudden her confusion melted into some odd mixture of shock and disgust. She wordlessly pushed the Slate back across the counter, scanned the case of Red Grain, and then motioned to a now very baffled and somewhat offended Ashira that she was free to leave.
In her sleep-deprived state, Ashira had barely the mental capacity to remember where the door was, much less to ponder the deeper meaning behind what had transpired. Vowing to come back the next day, after getting a good night's sleep, and get the insolent cashier fired, she trudged out of the shop, back to the officers' quarters, where the Helkam man was still toiling away in the lobby, now wiping down the Turox-leather seats, and into her own suite.
She brushed the most egregious of the trash from her bed, with the arm that wasn't clutching the spoils of her trek to her chest, and allowed gravity to gracelessly guide her into its soft, fitted-sheet embrace. With a sigh of barely-felt relief, she cracked the cap off her first bottle with her tusks and took a long, well-earned swig.
The next thing she knew, it was morning.
Everything hurt. Ashira's muscles all ached like she'd run every Deathshead Commando bootcamp course, back-to-back, without stopping. Her head felt like a bloated, rotten gourd, ready to burst at the slightest touch. Even though her eyes were closed, what little light made it through them felt as though it was piercing straight through her eyeballs and into her brain. However, through it all, she noted an odd, almost pleasant sensation that she hadn't felt in so long, she'd almost forgotten the word for it.
'Empress all-powerful, this must be the first time in almost a year that I've had a full night's sleep!'
Ashira would have kept laying there, exactly where she was. The room was quiet. No one needed her. Her unit was stood down for another few days. She could just stay in bed, in peace, and wait for the pain to subside. But the very second she considered that possibility, her bladder cried in agony, and she simultaneously came to the realizations that she would not be able to hold it in for even a minute longer, and that she was wearing her only set of relatively-clean clothes.
She pushed herself up and onto her feet, and that motion sent showers of sparks cascading through her vision, even as her eyes stayed firmly shut. Her ears rang from the pain as though she'd stuck her head between the prongs of a colossal tuning fork, her limbs felt numb as she stumbled through her room, and the only way she could tell up from down was from the direction gravity kept pulling her every time she lost her balance.
She hit the door frame to the bathroom by chance, only recognizing it as the right one by the light switch her elbow painfully caught. From there, she went entirely by feel. There was the sink, the towel rack, the soap dispenser, the shower door… and finally, having run out of wrong things to blindly grope around for, her hand bumped into the tank of the toilet. Even bending down made her head fill with the pounding beat of her heart, every pulse seeming to try and push her brain out of her skull through her eyes and ears. She nearly blacked out as she sat down.
The next thing Ashira knew, she was doubled over her sink, dry-heaving, her fireproof pants pulled back up around her waist but neither zipped shut nor clipped together at the front. She knew for certain that nothing had come up, because she was newly aware of the desiccated dryness in her mouth and throat, as if all her flesh had been replaced with fine-grit sandpaper. Still lacking the resolve to open her eyes, she blindly clawed at the knobs of the sink until water began to pour, and then began scooping handfuls of it into her mouth.
After a few gulps, she began to feel a bit better. Her mouth, though it still felt dry as ever, was at least now rid of the horrible, sour, metallic taste that she hadn't registered until it was gone, and the unintentional splashing of water onto her face did wonders in helping her start to truly wake up. The very next instant, though, a numbing pain spread across her hands and face, and down her throat. The water was freezing cold.
That didn't deter Ashira, though, and she kept drinking until she knew that she would not be able to swallow a drop more without throwing up. Her hands were numb from the frigid water, as was her face. Icy rivulets streamed down her chin and throat and under her unzipped collar, leaving cool, glistening trails across her breasts and stomach.
Somehow, this numbness that spread across her fingers and cheeks seemed to have carried over to her hangover, as well, though whether it was the rapid cooling, or the much-needed hydration, or both, she neither knew nor cared. Her head now hurt with the intensity of just any old headache, her skin did not feel two sizes too small for her organs, and her muscles and joints barely ached with any more intensity than they usually did.
She opened her eyes for the first time since she'd gotten out of bed, ready and eager to take full advantage of her hangover cure while its effects still lasted, and almost fell over as she stumbled away from the mirror in shock. The reflection in the mirror was decidedly not her.
Bloodshot eyes stared out at her from dark, sunken orbits; two craters on a puffy face rendered a waxy, pale bluish lilac by months of near-total involuntary isolation from the daylight. Raven hair framed that lifeless visage, once kept neat and short, now a wild, greasy, and, above all, long Seetcha's nest. It had once had lively sun-bleached streaks where her beret and headset did not fully cover it, from when she would ride head-out in her trusty command Ishtarti-603, but they were now mere faded tips spread unevenly through the carbon-black tangle.
The rest of her was not in much better shape. Her bust, though always on the fuller size, was nonetheless noticeably larger than it had been the last time Ashira had inspected her reflection, and doubtless was the cause of her incessant back pain. In the same moment, she became aware that her breasts rested not against the top of her six-pack - which, while rarely worked out and never particularly defined, had, in its mere presence, still been a point of quiet pride for her - but at the upper limits of a beer gut, whose faint outline was visible even under the baggy suit she was wearing for the umpteenth day in a row, and which stood as a testament to the inertia she had descended into while trying to force the RAR into motion.
'Fuck, there's the evidence of my battle. Mom was right, I do eat like a Turox before the slaughter. I have no self-control. Why do I even bother with this restructuring business if I can't even keep to my own damn fitness goals?' Her gloom, though deep and all-consuming while it weighed upon her soul, dissipated just as quickly as it set in. 'But I knew it would happen, so why does it surprise me? I knew going in that I was burning myself up in the present to keep future me warm. It's just a few kilos. A dozen at most. No big deal. Just need a bit more exercise for a month or two and I'll be right back in parade shape!'
It did, however, make her think to place an order with the on-base supply depot for some new clothes. With the Unification Day festivities looming, it would simply not do for this quite temporary distortion of her Noble figure to be so brazen, she firmly decided.
The order would have to wait, however. When Ashira brought out her government-issued Data-Slate from her front pocket in a familiar motion, already compiling a list of all the workout gear, field uniforms, and parade garb she would need in a size up, the device, in an apparent bout of unruliness, first resisted her efforts to turn it on, and when it was finally made to do so, simply boot-looped endlessly on the startup screen. For all intents and purposes, it was a Slate-shaped paperweight, and Ashira didn’t even have enough physical documents in her possession to make use of this one purpose it had left.
‘First my clothes, now the one Slate mom can’t track me on. What’s next, is my ID going to expire all of a sudden? Will my physical Chit card have a bad contact?’
There was only so much she could take at one time, so she decided to do the sensible thing and get something to eat before returning to dealing with her problems. She pulled out her Slate. It was almost noon.
'No one needs to see me like this. How can I command the regiment if they see me in such a state? I'll order breakfast - well, lunch now, but who's really counting? - and I can join everyone for dinner, once I get a chance to order in some new clothes, and shower, and maybe do something with my hair.'
With a practiced motion, so automatic it was almost a reflex, she swiped through the interface until she found what she was looking for. There, between Combatters forum sites, was a saved page for the Hungry Gal's order menu. Her chit was already saved in the system. All she needed was to tap on "Large Hot Meal #5 - Drink Combo" and…
CHIT DECLINED - PAYMENT BLOCKED
"That can't be right," Ashira muttered aloud as she tapped the button again, over and over, to the same effect. "It's a government card. Unless- ah, right, it must be the new policy they were talking about! Can't believe they made food expenses count as personal expenditure only, the nerve of these credit-pinching…"
She went into the payment details section of the page, switched the number to her personal one, and selected "Large Hot Meal #5 - Drink Combo" again. This time, a new message appeared.
INVALID ACCOUNT - DEACTIVATED
The gnawing hunger in her stomach disappeared in an instant, replaced by a solid iron bar of dread. Why was her account deactivated? Who could have done it? The only other person with access privileges was her own mother, and why would she…?
Ashira knew the answer. She didn't want to know it, to acknowledge that she knew it for fear of what it meant, but she did. With shaking hands, she opened the notification screen of her Slate, and saw she had unread messages from her family group chat. She tapped that notification, expecting a deluge of fury about her weight, her spending habits, her slovenly appearance in public, or any manner of other things, but there was but one message, sent earlier that morning. It was from her mother, indeed, but it was just four words long.
I got the letter.
She wanted to protest, to scream, "What letter could you possibly mean?," but she couldn't. A memory, hazy from the fog of insomnia that had dulled her thoughts at the time, played against her volition in her mind. The words hadn't made sense to her then, but they did now. Robotically, she closed the message from her mother and searched through her inbox for one marked with a government seal. She opened it, and read it in silence. The last few lines were the hardest to read, because by then the tears had begun to well up in her eyes.
It was over. Her career, her noble status, her finances, her life as she knew it… they were all gone, and it had taken just one letter to send it all crashing down.

My husband works at a hospital system who was just awarded the contract to provide care for inmates at our state prison. He is a physical therapist, really great guy, and he has volunteered to be the lead provider while the hospital hires someone full time. He has worked with inmates before, but only transports in the hospital. He starts in two weeks. Any advice for him? Anything you recommend he do or doesn’t do (or say?)? If any of you had physical therapy while serving time, is there anything you wish your provider had done differently or known about?
He’s not really nervous or anything (he’s actually had a couple run-ins with local law enforcement that he was able to get expunged, and I know his sympathies lie more with his patients than with the guards or anything).

The crunch made by snapping a thick tree branch is not entirely dissimilar to the crunch made by a human being’s neck when it’s broken.
Fun little factoid for you.
As I’m writing this, I’m huddled in my car on the side of the road in one of Oregon’s many huge forests. When we entered the woods, there were eight of us. Now, as far as I know, just me.
Let’s explain things, no? Considering that when the cops get here, I’m almost definitely going to prison.
Yesterday morning, me and seven of my friends piled into our cars and set out for a weekend camping trip. We arrived around noon to our campsite and began getting things set up for our stay.
The trek from the road to the site was not… pleasant. Jeremy, the outdoorsy guy in the group, decided that camping in an established site was too “beta” for him, and therefore us, so we needed to rough it somewhere off the grid. His brother Greg and girlfriend Loretta thought this was a great idea.
The rest of us were not as enthusiastic. My partner, Ivy, was very vocal about their complaints, something I tried to stay out of when Jeremy fired back. Like watching two cowboys dueling, but instead of six shooters it was emasculating comments and ignorant remarks.
“Y’know Jeremy, a real man knows when to listen to his friends. Just saying.”
“Yeah, well what would you know about-”
“Alright! Enough of that conversation, let’s keep moving, yeah?”
Adam popped in between the pair, hands up. A grin rested on his face, but the stress was clear in his eyes. His brothers, Luke and Peter, stood back, watching their older brother handle the situation with all the grace of a blind hippo.
Jeremy rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, tell this bitch to stay in her lane.”
My voice joined six others in a chorus of “Their,” leading to another eye-roll from Jeremy, before he set off further into the woods.
Adam fell in step with Ivy and I, muttering under his breath about Jeremy, calling him all sorts of lovely names. The three of us grinned at each other before Adam fell off further back to walk with his brothers.
The woods were silent as we walked. That should’ve been our first red flag, looking back on things. It’s never fully silent in the forest.
And yet, we thought nothing of it, moving on as if things were just as they should be.
We eventually made it to the site. A small circle, looking over a beautiful lake. The campsite was about 15 feet away from a huge cliff, easily a 250 foot fall into the icy water.
Jeremy looked over our grins and nods, smirking at us all. “See? What sort of campsite has a view like this?”
We all mumbled in frustrated agreement, which only led to him laughing. “Listen, when it comes to this sort of thing, I’m your guy. If you need… bible verses, go to the freaks,” Jeremy scowled at Adam and his brothers. “Or, maybe, if you need some freaky goth lullabye, go to Marcy.”
Jeremy nodded at me, and I shook my head. No way was I gonna become a pawn in all his shit.
He shrugged and kept going on his weird little alpha male tangent, but I tuned him out as Ivy and I got our tent set up.
After a few hours, everyone was situated. We celebrated getting here in one piece with a lot of booze, as any good 20-something would do. The conflicts of the day were quickly forgotten once the tequila got broken out, and we were dancing to shitty music played from a bluetooth speaker while our campfire roared in the background. It was a good time.
Until the conservation officer showed up.
We heard the engine cutting through the trees long before we saw anyone, but we were so drunk we didn’t really seem to notice it getting closer until we saw the headlights peering through the undergrowth. The engine cut out, and we heard a soft grunt as a man dismounted from what we could now see was an ATV.
Pushing branches aside, I saw this mountain of a man peering down at us. Easily pushing seven feet tall, with rough, leathery skin and a bushy brown beard. He wore sunglasses that concealed his eyes, and the typical light brown uniform you’d see on a park ranger, complete with the wide brimmed hat. When he spoke, his voice was deep and resonant, yet soft at the same time.
“I think you all might have broken a few rules here in this here campsite, friends.”
Heads turned to look at the stranger, who grinned through his beard. “Yes, I do think-”
Jeremy piped up, walking over to the man with all the bravado of a drunk. “Listen, dude, we’re not hurting nobody, just having some fun.”
The officer looked down at Jeremy, shaking his head. “No, son, you’re hurting plenty. The animals of this here forest, by blasting your loud ass music all over. The forest itself, leaving garbage all over. Your fellow campers. And myself. I don’t take too kindly to folks behaving the way you’re behaving.”
Jeremy swayed a little on his feet, before pointing at the man. “Well, I think maybe YOU-”
The officer moved deceptively quick for a man of his size, grabbing Jeremy by the shoulder and tossing him aside, his head slamming into a tree trunk with a loud crack. The officer held up a finger in a “one moment” motion, before walking over to Jeremy, who was holding his head, his hand coming away sticky with blood.
The officer looked up at the trees, grabbing a thick tree limb with one hand and snapping it off the body of the tree, a loud crunch coming from the tree as he did. He looked down at Jeremy, who looked back up at him and finally seemed to realize what was happening, holding his hands up in defense.
“Hey, man, hey. Let’s just chill out and-”
The officer brought the limb down with such force on Jeremy’s outstretched hand that a bone jutted out from near his elbow, and he screamed, dropping his arms down to his chest. A choir of screams erupted from the campsite as the limb was brought down on his head once, before it was tossed aside.
The officer grabbed Jeremy by the shoulders and stood him up, blood running down between his eyes. He was alive, barely, but clearly in a bad state.
The officer wrapped an arm around his shoulders, looking at all of us. “You all are being damn near horrible to this here forest. And so, I’m gonna be damn near horrible to all you. Starting with this one here.”
With that, he slipped his arm around Jeremy’s neck and yanked hard to one side. A sickening crunch not dissimilar to the tree limb breaking could be heard, and Jeremy collapsed to the forest floor, the light of life rapidly leaving his eyes.
Most of us were too stunned to really react, save for Peter, one of Adam’s younger brothers. He let out a scream and rushed the officer, who reacted with a firm punch between Peter’s eyes, dropping the teen immediately. “Now, that’s no way to react…”
The officer walked past me, dragging Peter’s body behind him. He smelled of aftershave and sweat, and I realized this was my chance to get the fuck out of here. I grabbed Ivy’s arm and started slowly making my way back towards the woods.
The officer hoisted Peter up by his shirt collar, shaking his head as he stopped near the cliff drop. “Well! Down ya go, youngin’.”
As he threw Peter over the cliff, Adam rushed him as well, a tent peg in his hand. He let out a cry as he slammed the peg into the officer’s back, and he let out a grunt as he whirled around with a backhand that Adam was able to duck under, before running into the woods.
The officer glared at us all as he watched us scatter into the woods, the evening sun framing him as he stood on the cliffside.
As we ran, Ivy stopped near his ATV, slamming their nail file into one of the tires. The blade snapped as they pulled it back out, but the hissing of air leaking revealed their strike was effective. We scattered into the trees, knowing this man was likely hot on our trails.
Alright, that’s about all I have in me to relive at the moment, emotionally. I’m going to try and get some sleep, hope a car comes by and picks me up soon. I’ll go more into depth about what happened next another time.

Imagine that you are planting a seed every day. Also every day, you are harvesting the seed you planted a week ago. As it has only been growing for a week, it's not very large. You survive, but life is hard.
Imagine instead that you harvest the seeds that you planted a month ago. You are still doing the same work, planting and harvesting every day. But the amount you harvest is larger. Your life is more pleasant and you have the ability to achieve more things.
Imagine if your seeds grow for a full year...
This is a philosophy I've come up with recently that I find can be applied to many things in life. Let's take one more example:
In the famous Marshmallow test, children were given a choice between getting one marshmallow to eat directly, or wait 15 minutes and get two marshmallows. The children who were able to delay the reward did better later in life.
Imagine if you were given this choice every day. One marshmallow now, or two marshmallows tomorrow. If you always choose tomorrow, you will also be every day getting the two marshmallows you waited for since yesterday. The choice then effectively becomes getting one marshmallow every day, or getting two every day but skip the first day.
If you always make long-term decisions, you will also be always getting the value of your past long-term decisions.
This is the steady state you want to achieve. In this state, life is more pleasant and feels effortless. Waiting months for something you have planned is no longer hard, rather enjoyable. Because during that time you will fulfil earlier plans. Making long-term decisions has become the natural thing to do, it now rewards you also in the short term. The value in your life accumulates, be it relationships, money, health... In this moment, the "now" which is the only thing that exists, everything you have around you that you value is the result of your previous actions. Optimize this for your future self that you will soon become.
How do you wish you had planned 5 years ago? Do that planning now. Are you stuck in a life situation that you are not happy with? Start working towards changing it. Are you stressed about something in life? Something you ought to do? Sort it out now so it stops occupying your thoughts, don't wait. What do you wish you had done yesterday? Do it today, otherwise you will feel the same tomorrow. Do you have unwashed dishes lying in the kitchen? Go and wash them now, you need to do it anyways so do it early to feel better in your clean home. Cook food before you are too hungry.
I hope you can find areas in your life where this is applicable. Treat yourself occasionally, that is also good in the long term.

I reckon the best way to find work is to follow your passion. Sure, we all need money to get by, but what’s the point in wasting your time on something you hate? We all know that money can’t buy happiness. It’s not just about having a cool car and tasty food every day. There are plenty of rich and famous folks who’ve struggled with addiction and even taken their own lives. That’s why I believe happiness is more about how you live each day rather than how much money you have in the bank. And let’s be real, if you’re good at what you do, the money will come eventually.
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Follow your passion, whether it’s engineering or art

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A true pro is someone who’s passionate about their work, no matter what it is. I’ve always been into mechanical engineering ever since I was old enough to know what it was. So, I decided to pursue it as my life’s work. I hope my experience can help others who are considering a mechanical engineering major, just like I was not long ago.

Best Colleges for Mechanical Engineering in Louisiana: Conditions to Apply

Look, I don’t wanna talk about things I don’t really know about, so let me tell you a bit about schools in Louisiana, okay? If you’re not from the Pelican State, don’t worry, you can still stick around and read this — you might pick up some generally useful tips (By the way, did you know that Louisiana is the only state in the U.S. that doesn’t have counties?). I haven’t done any research, but I believe that the requirements for applying to schools that open career paths for mechanical engineers are roughly the same in all states.
When I turned 18 and got my high school diploma, it was enough for me to get into mechanics school. According to the internet, state-issued GEDs are also acceptable, and I see no reason not to believe that. Some schools may have additional or different requirements, and as much as I hate making generalizations, let me break down those demands in detail for you.

Mechanical Engineer Degree Requirements: What You Should Know to Get Enrolled

So, what else do you need besides a high school diploma and being 18 to get into a mechanics school? Let’s take a look at some of the schools in Louisiana.

• Central Louisiana Technical Community College is one of those places that want you to pass the ACCUPLACER test to make sure you can read, write, and do math. But here’s the catch: it costs between $10 and $50 (I took this from the school’s official site, where else?).
• On the other hand, Delgado Community College is totally chill, and you don’t even need a high school transcript or GED/HiSET equivalency. And if you’re not sure what those are, don’t worry, I had to Google it too.
• Then there’s South Louisiana Community College, which can offer a mechanical engineering degree but does not have any additional requirements.

So, depending on the school you choose, you may or may not have to do a little extra work. I’ve made my shortlist of three schools and want to share it with you.

Community Colleges for the Start of Mechanical Engineering Career: Louisiana Edition

I didn’t see a problem with heading out to another town to get my mechanic degree, so I checked out schools from different parts of Louisiana.

Sowela Technical Community College

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ByOWp8ApU1g
Sowela Technical College is located in Lake Charles, and it’s a small, cozy school that boasts a 100% acceptance rate (which I’m sure is a concern for many of us, right?). Their campus looks pretty impressive and modern, at least based on the pictures. Along with a high school diploma, they require the SOWELA Placement Test, which could set you back around 20 bucks. However, they also accept ACT or SAT scores instead of their specific exam. The school stresses that their test isn’t too tough, and the results are valid for several years.
According to their official website, graduates from this school can expect to earn a minimum starting salary of $28,700, which I think is pretty attractive. A good salary for the mechanical work I want to do, as I said before.

L.E. Fletcher Technical Community College

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kWkHHiWCDN8
This school is located in Schriever and belongs to those pleasant places that don’t require additional tests. All it demands is that you be over 16 years old (not even 18!), provide them with proof of selective service registration, and satisfy the requirements of Louisiana immunization of persons entering school. I think that the last requirement appeared because of the pandemic we’ve been surviving over the last few years. Don’t know about you, but for me, it’s pleasant to know that the school takes care of my health.
L.E. Fletcher Technical Community College also has a 100% acceptance rate but a little bit lower starting salary for graduates, $24,400. But their campus is epic, I must say. It can be a truly good choice if you want to start your path in mechanical engineering fields early.

Northshore Technical Community College

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A5KVGxKqr18
Northshore Technical Community College is in Lacombe. The acceptance rate in this school is also a pleasant 100%, and the salary of graduates starts at $21,400. To enroll, you have to complete an application, have proof of immunization, and have proof of selective service status. As you can see, this school does not mention the age of their potential students, but somehow I got the impression that they want people to be under 18. I don’t know why, but I think so. Their campus looks brand new in the pictures. It gave a similar impression to the one at Sowela Technical Community College, and it’s pretty good, I’d say. It’s definitely not the last choice for one who’s looking for colleges for mechanical engineering, as I was.

Conclusion for Your Encouragement

To be honest, I was thinking a lot about this mechanical engineering career. It seemed pretty appealing to me, but I also wondered if I really needed to go to school for it. I mean, maybe I could just have taken a year off, worked a bit, and figured out what I really wanted. But then I realized that I was just scared of rejection. I mean, so what if I got rejected? I could still take that year off to figure things out.
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At the end of the day, I knew that mechanical engineering was my jam. It’s one of my biggest passions, and I knew I wanted to spend my time pursuing mechanical engineering career paths. So I took those extra tests (not gonna lie, they were a piece of cake), and I got into my top choice school!

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Sorry, I’m not gonna spill the beans on which one it was, since gotta keep some mystery going. I just hope my experience can help you make the right choice for yourself.

(Posting this as its own thread because I don't feel like making a thousand replies to myself to fit it all in, plus this can be of interest for anyone.)
Fundamentally it is the good news preached to the Jews that their exile is over, that God is bringing them out of the nations with a strong hand, where they were exiled and dispersed and oppressed, as a kind of second Exodus, bringing them back to the promised land and this time for good. See Isaiah 40-42 (of which I will only post extracts to condense it):

“Comfort, yes, comfort My people!” says your God. “Speak comfort to Jerusalem, and cry out to her, that her warfare is ended, that her iniquity is pardoned; for she has received from the Lord’s hand double for all her sins.” The voice of one crying in the wilderness: “Prepare the way of the Lord; make straight in the desert a highway for our God. Every valley shall be exalted and every mountain and hill brought low; the crooked places shall be made straight and the rough places smooth; the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together; for the mouth of the Lord has spoken” ... O Zion, you who bring good tidings, get up into the high mountain; O Jerusalem, you who bring good tidings, lift up your voice with strength, lift it up, be not afraid; say to the cities of Judah, “Behold your God!” Behold, the Lord God shall come with a strong hand, and His arm shall rule for Him; behold, His reward is with Him, and His work before Him. He will feed His flock like a shepherd; He will gather the lambs with His arm, and carry them in His bosom, and gently lead those who are with young ... “You, Israel, are My servant, Jacob whom I have chosen, the descendants of Abraham My friend. You whom I have taken from the ends of the earth, and called from its farthest regions, and said to you, ‘You are My servant, I have chosen you and have not cast you away: Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, yes, I will help you, I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.’ Behold, all those who were incensed against you shall be ashamed and disgraced; they shall be as nothing, and those who strive with you shall perish. You shall seek them and not find them—those who contended with you. Those who war against you shall be as nothing, as a nonexistent thing. For I, the Lord your God, will hold your right hand, saying to you, ‘Fear not, I will help you.’ Fear not, you worm Jacob, you men of Israel! I will help you,” says the Lord and your Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel ... “I have raised up one from the north, and he shall come; from the rising of the sun he shall call on My name; and he shall come against princes as though mortar, as the potter treads clay ... And I will give to Jerusalem one who brings good tidings ... Behold! My Servant whom I uphold, My Elect One in whom My soul delights! I have put My Spirit upon Him; He will bring forth justice to the Gentiles. He will not cry out, nor raise His voice, nor cause His voice to be heard in the street. A bruised reed He will not break, and smoking flax He will not quench; He will bring forth justice for truth. He will not fail nor be discouraged, till He has established justice in the earth; and the coastlands shall wait for His law.” Thus says God the Lord, Who created the heavens and stretched them out, Who spread forth the earth and that which comes from it, Who gives breath to the people on it, and spirit to those who walk on it: “I, the Lord, have called You in righteousness, and will hold Your hand; I will keep You and give You as a covenant to the people, as a light to the Gentiles, to open blind eyes, to bring out prisoners from the prison, those who sit in darkness from the prison house. I am the Lord, that is My name; and My glory I will not give to another, nor My praise to carved images. Behold, the former things have come to pass, and new things I declare; before they spring forth I tell you of them.”

However, it is not only Jews who were in exile. Mankind as a whole was also in exile from the Garden of Eden (Paradise), living in an unnatural state, enslaved to death, sin and the devil. What makes the Gospel a particularly Christian thing is that we believe that it is not only the Jews, but also the Gentiles, that is, mankind as a whole, who are saved by God from slavery and brought to the true promised land, the Kingdom of God. To describe the Gospel, the good news, Peter in Acts says to the Jews:

Men of Israel, hear these words: Jesus of Nazareth, a Man attested by God to you by miracles, wonders, and signs which God did through Him in your midst, as you yourselves also know—Him, being delivered by the determined purpose and foreknowledge of God, you have taken by lawless hands, have crucified, and put to death; whom God raised up, having loosed the pains of death, because it was not possible that He should be held by it. For David says concerning Him: ‘I foresaw the Lord always before my face, for He is at my right hand, that I may not be shaken. Therefore my heart rejoiced, and my tongue was glad; moreover my flesh also will rest in hope. For You will not leave my soul in Hades, nor will You allow Your Holy One to see corruption. You have made known to me the ways of life; You will make me full of joy in Your presence.’ Men and brethren, let me speak freely to you of the patriarch David, that he is both dead and buried, and his tomb is with us to this day. Therefore, being a prophet, and knowing that God had sworn with an oath to him that of the fruit of his body, according to the flesh, He would raise up the Christ to sit on his throne, he, foreseeing this, spoke concerning the resurrection of the Christ, that His soul was not left in Hades, nor did His flesh see corruption. This Jesus God has raised up, of which we are all witnesses. Therefore being exalted to the right hand of God, and having received from the Father the promise of the Holy Spirit, He poured out this which you now see and hear. For David did not ascend into the heavens, but he says himself: ‘The Lord said to my Lord, “Sit at My right hand, till I make Your enemies Your footstool.” ’ Therefore let all the house of Israel know assuredly that God has made this Jesus, whom you crucified, both Lord and Christ.

And Paul in Acts says to the Greeks:

Men of Athens, I perceive that in all things you are very religious; for as I was passing through and considering the objects of your worship, I even found an altar with this inscription: TO THE UNKNOWN GOD. Therefore, the One whom you worship without knowing, Him I proclaim to you: God, who made the world and everything in it, since He is Lord of heaven and earth, does not dwell in temples made with hands. Nor is He worshiped with men’s hands, as though He needed anything, since He gives to all life, breath, and all things. And He has made from one blood every nation of men to dwell on all the face of the earth, and has determined their preappointed times and the boundaries of their dwellings, so that they should seek the Lord, in the hope that they might grope for Him and find Him, though He is not far from each one of us; for in Him we live and move and have our being, as also some of your own poets have said, ‘For we are also His offspring.’ Therefore, since we are the offspring of God, we ought not to think that the Divine Nature is like gold or silver or stone, something shaped by art and man’s devising. Truly, these times of ignorance God overlooked, but now commands all men everywhere to repent, because He has appointed a day on which He will judge the world in righteousness by the Man whom He has ordained. He has given assurance of this to all by raising Him from the dead.

Paul in his epistles finds various ways to speak of the Gospel. To the Romans:

Having been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom also we have access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and rejoice in hope of the glory of God. And not only that, but we also glory in tribulations, knowing that tribulation produces perseverance; and perseverance, character; and character, hope. Now hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who was given to us. For when we were still without strength, in due time Christ died for the ungodly. For scarcely for a righteous man will one die; yet perhaps for a good man someone would even dare to die. But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Much more then, having now been justified by His blood, we shall be saved from wrath through Him. For if when we were enemies we were reconciled to God through the death of His Son, much more, having been reconciled, we shall be saved by His life. And not only that, but we also rejoice in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have now received the reconciliation. Therefore, just as through one man sin entered the world, and death through sin, and thus death spread to all men, because all sinned ... as through one man’s offense judgment came to all men, resulting in condemnation, even so through one Man’s righteous act the free gift came to all men, resulting in justification of life. For as by one man’s disobedience many were made sinners, so also by one Man’s obedience many will be made righteous.

To the Corinthians:

I delivered to you first of all that which I also received: that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, and that He was buried, and that He rose again the third day according to the Scriptures, and that He was seen by Cephas, then by the twelve. After that He was seen by over five hundred brethren at once, of whom the greater part remain to the present, but some have fallen asleep. After that He was seen by James, then by all the apostles. Then last of all He was seen by me also, as by one born out of due time. For I am the least of the apostles, who am not worthy to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God ... Now Christ is risen from the dead, and has become the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep. For since by man came death, by Man also came the resurrection of the dead. For as in Adam all die, even so in Christ all shall be made alive. But each one in his own order: Christ the firstfruits, afterward those who are Christ’s at His coming. Then comes the end, when He delivers the kingdom to God the Father, when He puts an end to all rule and all authority and power. For He must reign till He has put all enemies under His feet. The last enemy that will be destroyed is death. For “He has put all things under His feet.” But when He says “all things are put under Him,” it is evident that He who put all things under Him is excepted. Now when all things are made subject to Him, then the Son Himself will also be subject to Him who put all things under Him, that God may be all in all.

To the Galatians:

Abraham “believed God, and it was accounted to him for righteousness.” Therefore know that only those who are of faith are sons of Abraham. And the Scripture, foreseeing that God would justify the Gentiles by faith, preached the gospel to Abraham beforehand, saying, “In you all the nations shall be blessed.” So then those who are of faith are blessed with believing Abraham ... Now to Abraham and his Seed were the promises made. He does not say, “And to seeds,” as of many, but as of one, “And to your Seed,” who is Christ ... You are all sons of God through faith in Christ Jesus. For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is neither male nor female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus. And if you are Christ’s, then you are Abraham’s seed, and heirs according to the promise. Now I say that the heir, as long as he is a child, does not differ at all from a slave, though he is master of all, but is under guardians and stewards until the time appointed by the father. Even so we, when we were children, were in bondage under the elements of the world. But when the fullness of the time had come, God sent forth His Son, born of a woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, that we might receive the adoption as sons. And because you are sons, God has sent forth the Spirit of His Son into your hearts, crying out, “Abba, Father!” Therefore you are no longer a slave but a son, and if a son, then an heir of God through Christ.

To the Ephesians:

[God] raised [Jesus] from the dead and seated Him at His right hand in the heavenly places, far above all principality and power and might and dominion, and every name that is named, not only in this age but also in that which is to come. And He put all things under His feet, and gave Him to be head over all things to the church, which is His body, the fullness of Him who fills all in all. And you He made alive, who were dead in trespasses and sins, in which you once walked according to the course of this world, according to the prince of the power of the air, the spirit who now works in the sons of disobedience, among whom also we all once conducted ourselves in the lusts of our flesh, fulfilling the desires of the flesh and of the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, just as the others. But God, who is rich in mercy, because of His great love with which He loved us, even when we were dead in trespasses, made us alive together with Christ (by grace you have been saved), and raised us up together, and made us sit together in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, that in the ages to come He might show the exceeding riches of His grace in His kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. For by grace you have been saved through faith, and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God, not of works, lest anyone should boast. For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand that we should walk in them. Therefore remember that you, once Gentiles in the flesh—who are called Uncircumcision by what is called the Circumcision made in the flesh by hands—that at that time you were without Christ, being aliens from the commonwealth of Israel and strangers from the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world. But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ. For He Himself is our peace, who has made both one, and has broken down the middle wall of separation, having abolished in His flesh the enmity, that is, the law of commandments contained in ordinances, so as to create in Himself one new man from the two, thus making peace, and that He might reconcile them both to God in one body through the cross, thereby putting to death the enmity. And He came and preached peace to you who were afar off and to those who were near. For through Him we both have access by one Spirit to the Father. Now, therefore, you are no longer strangers and foreigners, but fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God, having been built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ Himself being the chief cornerstone, in whom the whole building, being fitted together, grows into a holy temple in the Lord, in whom you also are being built together for a dwelling place of God in the Spirit.

To the Philippians:

Let nothing be done through selfish ambition or conceit, but in lowliness of mind let each esteem others better than himself. Let each of you look out not only for his own interests, but also for the interests of others. Let this mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus, who, being in the form of God, did not consider it robbery to be equal with God, but made Himself of no reputation, taking the form of a bondservant, and coming in the likeness of men. And being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself and became obedient to the point of death, even the death of the cross. Therefore God also has highly exalted Him and given Him the name which is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of those in heaven, and of those on earth, and of those under the earth, and that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.

To the Colossians:

He has delivered us from the power of darkness and conveyed us into the kingdom of the Son of His love, in whom we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins. He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. For by Him all things were created that are in heaven and that are on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or principalities or powers. All things were created through Him and for Him. And He is before all things, and in Him all things consist. And He is the head of the body, the church, who is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, that in all things He may have the preeminence. For it pleased the Father that in Him all the fullness should dwell, and by Him to reconcile all things to Himself, by Him, whether things on earth or things in heaven, having made peace through the blood of His cross. And you, who once were alienated and enemies in your mind by wicked works, yet now He has reconciled in the body of His flesh through death, to present you holy, and blameless, and above reproach in His sight—if indeed you continue in the faith, grounded and steadfast, and are not moved away from the hope of the gospel which you heard, which was preached to every creature under heaven, of which I, Paul, became a minister.

And to the Hebrews:

God, who at various times and in various ways spoke in time past to the fathers by the prophets, has in these last days spoken to us by His Son, whom He has appointed heir of all things, through whom also He made the worlds; who being the brightness of His glory and the express image of His person, and upholding all things by the word of His power, when He had by Himself purged our sins, sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high, having become so much better than the angels, as He has by inheritance obtained a more excellent name than they ... For He has not put the world to come, of which we speak, in subjection to angels. But one testified in a certain place, saying: “What is man that You are mindful of him, or the son of man that You take care of him? You have made him a little lower than the angels; You have crowned him with glory and honor, and set him over the works of Your hands. You have put all things in subjection under his feet.” For in that He put all in subjection under him, He left nothing that is not put under him. But now we do not yet see all things put under him. But we see Jesus, who was made a little lower than the angels, for the suffering of death crowned with glory and honor, that He, by the grace of God, might taste death for everyone. For it was fitting for Him, for whom are all things and by whom are all things, in bringing many sons to glory, to make the captain of their salvation perfect through sufferings. For both He who sanctifies and those who are being sanctified are all of one ... Inasmuch then as [we] have partaken of flesh and blood, He Himself likewise shared in the same, that through death He might destroy him who had the power of death, that is, the devil, and release those who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage. For indeed He does not give aid to angels, but He does give aid to the seed of Abraham. Therefore, in all things He had to be made like His brethren, that He might be a merciful and faithful High Priest in things pertaining to God, to make propitiation for the sins of the people. For in that He Himself has suffered, being tempted, He is able to aid those who are tempted.

And Peter says in his first epistle:

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who according to His abundant mercy has begotten us again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance incorruptible and undefiled and that does not fade away, reserved in heaven for you, who are kept by the power of God through faith for salvation ready to be revealed in the last time ... Of this salvation the prophets have inquired and searched carefully, who prophesied of the grace that would come to you, searching what, or what manner of time, the Spirit of Christ who was in them was indicating when He testified beforehand the sufferings of Christ and the glories that would follow. To them it was revealed that, not to themselves, but to us they were ministering the things which now have been reported to you through those who have preached the gospel to you by the Holy Spirit sent from heaven—things which angels desire to look into.

This was our first time in Hawaii, and given that we weren’t sure if we’d have the chance to come back in the future, we crammed as much in as possible. We’re a couple in our late 20s. Overall, we loved Oahu, liked the Big Island, and thought Maui was just okay. The main focuses of our trip were trying a lot of different foods, which we did and enjoyed most of, and taking in the beautiful nature Hawaii has to offer, which we did and enjoyed nearly all of. We enjoyed Oahu the most because it offered the most of everything and it was easy to get around. Maui got docked a few points mostly because of how much drive time was required to do most things and it definitely wouldn’t have been worth it if we hadn’t been able to use credit card points for our hotel. HVNP was the big highlight of the Big Island, and we enjoyed a majority of what we did. If we had the chance, we’d probably go back to see more of the BI. In general, we were expecting food to be way more expensive than it was (yay for not meeting expectations) but it was surprisingly difficult for us to find fruits to try besides pineapple, mango, and papaya (boo for not meeting expectations).
This is a reaaaaaally long trip report so I tried to organize it in a way that will allow people to just find their island of interest if they don’t want to read the whole thing. Each island has a bolded header and I put a heart (💜) by things that we absolutely loved and would likely do again and a star (🌟) by things that we really enjoyed doing as first time visitors but probably wouldn’t do again. Please feel free to ask any questions about stuff I didn’t go into detail about!
Oahu Overall Rating: 9/10 Hotel: Hyatt Place Waikiki Beach (mostly stayed here because of CC points and free breakfast. Breakfast would've been way better if there was fruit besides canned pineapple, toilet paper was awful for my bootyhole, and they have the slowest elevators known to man)
Day 0: Travel/arrival

• Landed in Honolulu around 7pm after a very long day of traveling. I wanted to get Marugame Udon for dinner but balked at the line. I had heard that the line moves fast, but we were way too tired to wait, so we got Kono’s instead. My bomber was a bit too salty and greasy, but my boyfriend loved his.

Day 1: Honolulu

• We started the day with Diamond Head. We had the 7-8am reservation, which was perfect, since it was super busy on our way down. 🌟
• I wanted to have lunch at Helena’s but they were unfortunately closed for the duration of the Oahu leg of our trip. Did not learn this until we got there (sign taped to the door), so definitely check their website if this is on your itinerary.
• Walked to Bishop Museum from Helena’s and walked around and had a very sad lunch at the Highway Inn there. The Bishop Museum was beautiful and there was lots to see and read. Chose to do this over Polynesian Cultural Center due to the PCC controversy with the Church of LDS.
• Saw the Iolani Palace and the King Kamehameha statue. Cool to see both, but we didn’t do the formal tour at Iolani Palace.
• Had dinner at Tonkatsu Tamafuji. This was hands down one of the best meals we had the entire trip. We weren’t able to get a reservation so we arrived at 3:30pm to join the waitlist (we were second or third) and were seated almost immediately when they opened for dinner. 💜

Day 2: North Shore

• Started the morning early with the Makapu’u Point Lighthouse trail. Super easy and got to see the sunrise at the top. We really liked this trail. 🌟
• Spent some time at Lanikai Beach and it was a nice beach to relax on
• Headed up to drive through Ho’omaluhia Botanical Garden and the mountain ranges were stunning. 🌟
• Lunch at Da Bald Guy. It was good but nothing mindblowing. I wanted to try Ry’s Poke too, but they were closed for a few days. Again, learned from a sign on their window lol.
• We did the Ehukai Pillbox Hike and went past the first pillbox to see the second pillbox. The views from there were phenomenal. My poor feet were suffering a little and the downhill stretches were a bit scary at times, but it was worth it. 🌟
• We got an acai bowl from Haleiwa Bowls and it was so delicious and refreshing. 🌟
• Checked out the North Shore Macadamia Nut Company, North Shore Soap Factory🌟, and the Waialua Sugar Mill🌟. We got some souvenirs for family and even got a little tour at the sugar mill. Pleasantly surprised by how much we enjoyed these stops.
• Second lunch at Jenny’s Shrimp Truck. Good, but again, nothing mindblowing.
• Laniakea Beach was super crowded so we went to Papa’iloa Beach instead. Pretty and not crowded at all, and saw our first sea turtle here!
• We were pretty tired from the early morning so we decided to skip the last couple of things on our itinerary (Sunset Beach and Ted’s Bakery)

Day 3: Waikiki

• Started the day at KCC Farmers Market. We had mochi from Daizu Tei, banh mi from Pig and the Lady, and passion fruit cane juice (can’t remember the name of the stand). We also got a cup of a variety of cut fruit, which was pretty subpar and disappointing -- a majority of the fruit tasted unripe. 💜
• Lunch at Ono Seafood. It was good, but if I learned anything on this trip, I don’t like poke as much as I thought.
• Evening was spent at Kualoa Ranch for a friend’s wedding. What a beautiful venue!

Day 4: Waikiki

• Hung out on Waikiki Beach for a while before getting lunch at Marugame Udon. Udon was really tasty but I definitely didn’t need to get the tempura too. Extra points for the great value! 💜
• Wandered around International Marketplace but didn’t do any shopping
• Quick snack at Musubi Cafe. Good, but also thought that I’d like spam musubis more.
• Took a nap before getting dinner at Omakase by Aung. This was an amazing and delicious experience. The vibes were *chef’s kiss* 💜

Day 5: Waikiki

• Got coffee and some pastries from Kona Coffee b patisserie. Coffee was fine but the pastries were to die for. Waited in line for a while, so it’s probably good to go at a random time in the middle of the day rather than first thing in the morning 🌟/💜
• Headed over to the Pearl Harbor Historic Sites and went to the Battleship Missouri Memorial, Aviation Museum, and USS Arizona. Didn’t have time for the USS Bowfin Submarine Museum but if we could go back, we’d do that instead of the Aviation Museum. The Battleship Missouri Memorial was really cool and my WW2 buff boyfriend loved it. 🌟
• Wanted to get dinner at Maguro Brother, but was yet again met with a “we’re closed and will reopen on x date” sign. Went to Maguro Spot instead.
• We had shave ice at Island Vintage for dessert. We LOVED it and got one that had frozen yogurt in the center. I am dying to have it again. 💜

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Maui Overall Rating: 7/10 Hotel: Hyatt Regency Maui Resort and Spa (we walked down pretty much the entire 2 mile strip of resorts in Kaanapali and from the outside, I'd say that the Hyatt Regency was among the nicer resorts. However, we would never in a million years stay here if it weren't for CC points)
Day 6: Travel to Maui

• Flew to Maui in the AM and grabbed lunch at Thai Mee Up. Tasty! Unfortunately, we were there pretty early so most of the other trucks were closed. Checked out Costco too, because why not, and had to resist the urge to buy a million snacks.
• Went to the Iao Valley State Monument and did a few short trails there but the star of the day was the Waihe’e Ridge trail. It was probably the most challenging hike we did our entire trip, but it had the best views. It was unfortunately a bit cloudy at the top, but on the bright side, we didn’t have the sun beating down on our backs and were able to get pretty amazing views halfway up. 🌟
• Checked into our hotel before heading out for dinner at Star Noodle. This was another favorite dinner. It’s small plates/family style and while our waiter suggested starting with a noodle plate plus 2-3 other plates, we ended up ordering a second round of plates because everything we had was so good. 💜

Day 7: Haleakala

• The sunrise was breathtaking but I never want to do that drive in the dark ever again, even as a passenger. We left at 2:30am and arrived 30 minutes before sunrise and would suggest leaving even earlier to beat the tour buses. It was CROWDED. Did a few trails (Pa Ka’oao, Leleiwi Overlook, and the first half of Halemau’u) and headed back to the hotel for a much needed nap lol. 🌟
• On the way back, we grabbed a few snacks and poke from Foodland
• Explored Lahaina a little before going to the Old Lahaina Luau. The luau was enjoyable and the amount of food was insane. We didn’t love the food (our favorites were probably the apps and dessert), so because of that and the fact that we’re not big drinkers, it was a bit overpriced.

Day 8: Road to Hana

• Not to be all poo-poo about it but both of us thought this was way too overrated. I’ve given my thoughts on some other threads, but there are scenic drives in northern Michigan that are way prettier than the Road to Hana. The only things worth stopping for were Waianapanapa State Park 🌟 and the Pipiwai trail 🌟 and maybe the Keanae Arboretum just to look at the rainbow eucalyptus trees up close and the roadside lava tube. Other than that, we were not impressed by the beaches or the waterfalls and it was exhausting. Oh, and unpopular opinion, but Aunty Sandy’s banana bread is so overrated.
• We had lunch in the middle at Braddah Hutts. It was very tasty but we definitely could’ve shared a plate. Dinner at Tin Roof was on the itinerary but we decided to skip because of how full we were from lunch.

Day 9: Resort Bumming

• Given how exhausting the previous day was, we just bummed by the pool all day and napped.
• We got dinner at Huihui, which exceeded our expectations and we watched the lovely sunset as we ate.

Day 10: Snorkeling

• We did a half-day snorkel tour with Sea Maui and it was a really great experience! We went to two spots and had breakfast, lunch, and drinks included. 💜
• Took a much needed nap before going to Down the Hatch for dinner. We weren’t super hungry so we just shared an appetizer and entree and got shave ice at Ululani’s afterwards. Both were good but we liked the Island Vintage shave ice better than Ululani’s.

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Big Island Overall Rating: 8/10 Hotel: Orchid Tree B&B (I wanted to gatekeep this but it was too cute of a B&B to not share. The suite we got was clean and comfortable and the simple breakfast in the morning was great. The host cut fresh fruit from their yard for us) 💜
Day 11: Travel/HVNP

• Traveled to the Big Island early in the morning. We stopped by Greenwell Farms for coffee beans to take home, but didn’t have time for a free tour. The beans were a bit pricey but oh well, it’s a souvenir for family and it was 100% Kona coffee.
• We did a farm tour at Kuaiwi Farm and it was fun! We had a bit of a weird group but the owners were great and gave samples of a variety of things to try. 🌟
• Lunch at Shaka Tacoz was delicious. I was in dire need of some vegetables, so I ordered a salad and it was HUGE. I’ve never had such a filling salad.
• We were going to check out the green sand beach but decided against it and headed to HVNP instead. We were able to fit in the Devastation Trail, steam vents, sulphur banks, Kilauea Overlook, and the Thurston Lava Tube. This really freed up our second day at the park and everything was very cool. 🌟
• We got ramen at Tetsumen in Hilo for dinner and it was a pleasant surprise! It was a great way to end the cold and rainy day. 🌟

Day 12: HVNP/Travel

• Since we had time for HVNP the previous day, we only did the Kilauea Iki trail which was also really cool. We were impressed and amazed by HVNP. 🌟
• We went back to Hilo to check out the farmers market and this was possibly the most disappointing part of our short visit to the BI. Despite being warned during the farm tour the day prior, I wanted to try white pineapple before leaving and was convinced by the vendor that I purchased from that the pineapples were ripe. We had been warned during the farm tour that many vendors at farmers markets will lie and sell unripe fruit. So I ended up spending over $20 on an unripe white pineapple that made my tongue burn. I made myself eat probably 1/3 of it before I gave up and threw it out. I also purchased a mountain apple that was also definitely not ripe and I couldn’t eat more than the one bite I took. Lesson learned, I suppose.
• We stopped by Rainbow Falls (had time to kill) and it was alright.
• We had a late lunch at Cafe 100 and Ken’s House of Pancakes (also alright) before our long trip home.

romesentinel.com /stories/guest-column-olmsted-city-whats-in-a-name-plenty-for-city-of-utica,182927

GUEST COLUMN: 'Olmsted City?' What’s in a name? Plenty for city of Utica

Phil Bean, chair of Olmsted City7-8 minutes
People sometimes ask why we call our nonprofit group “Olmsted City” rather than something like “Utica Olmsted Parks.”
That’s understandable; we are currently focused on East Utica’s 62-acre Frederick T. Proctor Park. Still, we aim to do much more.
Four years ago, I returned after 23 years in Boston and Philadelphia and bought a home in the city of Utica. I wanted to contribute to Utica’s increasingly promising redevelopment efforts. Convinced that our parks are among our most important quality-of-life assets — they certainly made a difference in my life — I began working in 2019 to rejuvenate them, and two years ago I founded Olmsted City partly to promote that work.
It’s not enough simply to say we have parks — for decades, we’ve had too much talk and not enough sustained action to restore and maintain them. In contrast, by the end of 2022-23, Olmsted City will have spent over $250,000 on F.T. Proctor Park. Last year, we also recruited 150 volunteers who invested 1,100 hours in the park.
This is not a hobby for the amusement of the privileged or just a historic preservation project. Olmsted City is driven by the conviction that everyone, including the least fortunate, deserves beautiful recreational spaces. Indeed, such ideas drove Thomas R. Proctor to embark on a park-building binge more than 120 years ago. And today, a much higher proportion of our underprivileged neighbors live within a 10-minute walk of our Olmsted parks than do the most fortunate in this region.
This reality is at the forefront of everything we do.
Public health research has proven that visiting urban parks confers significant physical and mental health benefits. The local diabetes and blood pressure rates are higher than the state average, and a disproportionate number of Uticans (notably but not exclusively refugees) have experienced trauma.
For many such Uticans, parks have medicinal power. Healthy park tree canopies also cool temperatures and reduce pollution for those who live nearby.
Despite our dedication to parks, however, we call ourselves “Olmsted City” because we are also trying to rebrand Utica — not just one institution in it, but the entire city. “Olmsted” is by far the most nationally recognizable name to which Utica can attach itself. Very few outsiders have heard of Munson, Williams, or Proctor, and not many more know who Conkling or Seymour were.
For over a century, in contrast, the Olmsted family fundamentally transformed the American landscape. This fact recently inspired a highly successful, year-long nationwide celebration of the bicentennial of Frederick Law Olmsted, Sr., the inventor of the American urban park, the co-designer of Central Park and innumerable others, and the first person to call for a national park system.
His son, who did so much in Utica, designed the landscaping for the White House, the Jefferson Memorial, and many other nationally famous sites. He also helped save the California giant redwoods and start the National Park Service.
People from major metropolitan areas celebrate the name “Olmsted” because their lives are enriched by Olmsted family creations like not just Central Park, but Brooklyn’s Prospect Park, Boston’s Emerald Necklace system, Philadelphia’s FDR Park, Montreal’s Mount Royal Park, the Seattle parks system — and on and on it goes.
So, who cares about what people in big cities think? Uticans should. Utica is definitely on an upswing, but it’s still an under-resourced city. We need more outside capital. Big-city money and talent are helping to transform other small cities. Many people who might bring these goods here are accustomed to parks like F.T. Proctor … but they also expect them to be well-maintained.
In addition, the businesses we’d like to attract are interested in quality of life for their workers, increasingly many of whom value the outdoors. Mention that we have an Olmsted-designed park, and it makes many such people see Utica in a different light — and so should we.
However, we don’t have just one Olmsted park. We are the smallest U.S. city with an Olmsted parks and parkway system that’s over 70% the size of Central Park and comprises about 90% of Utica’s public parkland.
It offers diverse opportunities to engage with nature and healthful exercise: miles of wooded paths; tennis, basketball and (soon) pickleball courts; baseball and soccer fields; ice skating (coming next season); swimming pools; biking paths; picnic areas; a golf course; a skate park; dramatic vistas of the valley.
We also have five beautiful Olmsted-designed neighborhoods: Brookside, Proctor Boulevard, Talcott Road, Sherman Gardens, Ridgewood … and in New Hartford, there’s Hoffman Road.
About a tenth of the landmass of the city of Utica — more if you exclude our vast wetlands — was designed by Olmsted and his firm, Olmsted Brothers.
Olmsted City is dedicated to our green spaces, and we have an impressive record of commitment to them — but we are also dedicated to promoting a story for a new Utica, a story that is positive, true, and compelling to outsiders.
It is about having the sort of local pride that attracts opportunity. It is about elevating perceptions of Utica to promote our economic development. The message in our name is that there is something special here: Utica is an Olmsted city, and we should celebrate and protect our Olmsted heritage.
Toward this end, last year alone we planted 27 trees and more than 2,100 other perennial plants, installed five benches, repaired a historic stone staircase, created two new destinations, and cleaned up the long-neglected park gate at F.T. Proctor Park. Unlike many other organizations, we have no paid staff or a multimillion-dollar endowment — our work is dependent on civic-minded volunteers and donors who share our vision and appreciate our track record of getting things done.
We are currently in the midst of reconstructing the park’s previously deteriorated Lily Pond, a 1913 Olmsted creation that’s one of the region’s most iconic spots. It should be running again later this month. Come see it then, but in the meantime, please begin thinking and speaking proudly of Utica as an Olmsted city.
Editor’s note — Phil Bean is chair of Olmsted City; the president of the Utica Public Library Board of Trustees, and a Proctor graduate. He is a former college dean and author of “The Urban Colonists: Italian American Identity and Politics in Utica, New York,” published by Syracuse University Press, and other works about Utica’s political and ethnic history. He is also the co-creator, with Dennis Dewey, of a series of well-received, short YouTube videos called “Utica: An Olmsted City.”

My father worked at the California State prison Corcoran where RDJ served in 1999.
He said that because everyone there knew him, both staff and inmates would try to take his prison ID and he would constantly have to get it replaced. Until eventually, after making dozens of RDJ IDs the prison just decided to stop asking for him to show his ID because they knew half of the time he wouldn't have it.
There were also many attempts for gangs to have RDJ join them, but they weren't able to have him stick to any one group.

Part 24 Working Towards Peace (Part 1) (Part 23)
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“I still don’t understand how the hell you, of all people, were able to score the first live interview with a Nishnabe and I didn’t get anything!” Shelby West’s perfectly choreographed hair, make up, and outfit looked absolutely pristine despite the scowl on her face as she watched the much more simply dressed woman set up a consumer-grade camera system. “I even demanded that my First Amendment Rights to the free press be respected, and they just looked at me like I was stupid!”
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“I mean, did you try asking them nicely?” Cherry turned from the equipment she was setting with a sarcastic smirk on her face, her floof of rainbow hair bouncing as she did so. “That’s what I did, and they were really cool with me.”
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“Oh, hardy har har. You’re so funny, Cherry.” Shelby rolled her eyes so hard it almost looked like they would get stuck like that. “But seriously though, I’m pissed! That should have been my interview! I got there first!”
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As much as Cherry didn’t want to be a sounding board for her ex-girlfriend's childish complaints, she also didn’t want to give Shelby any excuse to cause a scene right before a press conference, especially with other people around. Even though the tight-fitting pin-stripe pants suit, precisely paired by a sharply detailed blazer with a popped up collar, and the completely over the top curled pompadour certainly looked good, the person wearing it could become quite loud quite quickly. When Cherry had initially shown up at the entrance to the Pinkerton facility where a battle had just taken place, she was one of the first to do so, had been recognized by a guard near the gate, and ushered into a tent-like structure for safety. As a few more journalists began to arrive just as she had, they were all informed there would be a press conference soon where they would be given an update on the current situation and have the opportunity to ask questions. As nerve racking and exciting as the past half hour or so had been for the rainbow haired woman, suddenly seeing her ex be ushered into the tent, immediately making eye contact with her, and then just starting to talk to her, had completely ruined this experience.
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“I’m surprised they even let you in here." Cherry shot back while returning to her camera to properly align the focus. “I heard STAR Net was implicated in the First Contact Kidnapping Plot.”
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“Oh, and where’d you hear that?” The brunette pomp atop the finely dressed woman’s head bobbed as pulled her head back and chin down, crossed her arms, and took up a much more defensive stance.
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“I saw the names of the STAR Net board of directors on the list of people the Nishnabe have detained." Cherry nonchalantly replied. "And the charges against them."
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“The what?!?” The shout drew the eyes of a few of the other reporters and guards nearby, though none gave the pair of bickering women a second glance.
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“You know what a board of directors is.” Cherry had finally gotten her camera just right and started giggling at her own joke.
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“The list, god damn it!” Shelby lightly stomped her wedge-heel in indignation.
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“Look, Shelbs.” Cherry turned so that she could lock eyes with the other woman. “I told you 5 years ago, I’m not doing your homework anymore. If you want to call yourself a journalist, you need to do your own research.”
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“Ahmahgah, no! I have a team for that!” The immaculately dressed woman scoffed with a valley girl accent so thick it made Cherry’s eyes roll in response. "You'd know what that's like if you worked for people who actually had a budget."
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"And look how well informed you are." The sarcasm in that statement was palpable as the rainbow haired woman turned her attention to her laptop to finish her broadcasting and recording set up. "You get what you pay for and if you want something done right, you should be able to do it yourself."
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"They get paid well!" Shelby shot back, more annoyed that her former lover wasn't giving her more attention than at the fact she wasn't aware of information she should have been reporting on. “But seriously though, what list?”
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Rather than continuing with the back and forth, Cherry simply focused on her task and clicked through a few options on her computer to get all of the settings just right. Unlike Shelby and the few other reporters brave or stupid enough to approach the site of a recent battle which included high altitude atomic detonations, the rainbow haired woman from Mars preferred this more hands-on approach to reporting. Where all the others simply trusted their drone-based, AI-operated broadcasting systems to work without any real interaction, Cherry knew better than that. Despite how far simple AI, particularly image-recognition AI, had come over the years, nothing could compare to that human touch which transcended any attempt at emulation. Though she might never consider herself among the legends like Hunter S. Thompson or Bob Woodward, Cherry would rather spend time perfecting her craft than arguing with her ex.
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"Ah, come on CareBear, don't be like that." Seeing as her sass was getting her nowhere in a hurry, Shelby tried to change tactics and was now using her sweetest tone of voice. "Pwitty pwease!"
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"Oh my god!” Cherry burst out with the most annoyed tone she could muster before pressing in a few commands into her laptop and bringing up a blank internet browser tab. “I swear to God, if it weren’t for me you would never have gotten your degree!”
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“So, you’ll tell me?”
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“I’m not telling you shit, I’m showing you how to look it up yourself.” The bombastic side eye Cherry shot Shelby’s way did little to hinder the giddy expression on the other woman's prim and proper face. “You just open a new tab on your browser, go to the Nishnabe Web portal, and then it’ll bring a search page that looks like every over search page I’ve ever seen. From there, you can search anything you want, and you can probably find it.” As she was describing the incredibly simple process, she was also giving a live demonstration.
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“And if I wanted to search that list you mentioned?” With the prodding this obvious, the demonstration and explanation halted.
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“I swear, if you write a report on this and I’m not cre-” Cherry was about to demand she be properly recognized for her work before something particularly hurtful crossed her mind. “Ah, who am I kidding, it’s not like you ever actually write any of your reports yourself. Probably just paying some minimum wage intern to do that for you. And it shows.”
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“Harsh…” Shelby faked an offended tone even though she knew it was true. “But… as you were saying…”
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“Fine… I looked up military engagements…” The term was quickly typed into the keyboard and the homepage was suddenly replaced by a simplistic though highly informative search results page. “And, you can see the first link is to the Nishnabe Militia War Chief’s Council page. When yah click that, it brings you to the most boring yet transparent government website I’ve ever seen. Here’s a list of active and resolved military actions that goes from the most recent strike on ConSec and the Pinkertons, all the way back to their very first official military engagement just under 1100 years ago.”
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“There is no way they just…” Without meaning to, Shelby had suddenly found herself actually reading the information on the screen instead of waiting for it to be told to her.
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“Yeup.” Cherry clicked to the link to the most recent, and still unresolved, engagement at the top of the list. “You can see the number killed, wounded, or captured, the total resource expenditure, and even their tactical plans.”
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“That has to be bullshit.” The utter disbelief was written all across the overdressed woman’s face. “There is absolutely no way a military, or any government body, would be this transparent. Look! They have a list of everyone who’s supposedly deployed right now. This has to be misinformation or something.”
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“I mean…” Cherry clicked the link as she had done earlier and began scrolling down the list of names, some with pictures, until she came to a face that was standing in the room at that moment. “Zab-sh-pak-i-wen?” She attempted to pronounce the name while turning to a nearby guard who was clad in advanced armor, but with his helmet down and face exposed.
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“Ehe? Ni je na, ngwabjegen-nankwe?” The Zabshpakiwen turned and looked at the women with a stoic expression and tone.
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“Oh my god, he can’t be the same person, no way!” Though Shelby’s make up and hair weren’t disturbed in the least, she now had a look of utter shock on her face. “What did he say?”
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“If you put the translator they gave you into your ear, you could understand him just fine.” Cherry began rubbing the bridge of her nose in frustration, the Nishnabe man had started lightly chuckling, and Shelby fumbled with the small translation device she had been given early before wedging it into her ear.
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“I said, ‘Yes? What’s up, rainbow-hair?’” Zab repeated himself after he saw the elaborately dressed woman had placed in her translator.
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“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bug you.” Cherry answered for herself and Shelby while nodding politely towards the man and putting on a friendly smile. “She just doesn’t believe that your military or government would be this open with information like who is currently deployed and where."
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“There is no way-!” Cherry half shouted before quickly calming after realizing how easy it was going to be to have a conversation with this Nishnabe man. “Do you guys really just have personal information like this available to anyone?”
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“What? Has Earth not developed social media yet?” Sarcasm oozed from the man as he let a light smirk form on his face.
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“Of course!” There was just a bit too much sass in Shelby's response. “I have 30 million followers on-”
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“And do y’all ever put links between your social media profiles and your places of employment?”
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"I mean…When you put it like that.." Shelby couldn't help but feel embarrassed after realizing she had multiple links between her profile on the company website and her personal social media accounts. "So, like, if I made a profile on your…"
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"We just call it the Web. Like a spiderweb." Zab was trying his best not to look at the woman like she was dumb, especially considering he had overheard she had a degree, but he was failing. "And a few randoms have already sent me connection requests. But I haven't responded to any of them yet because I've never actually met any of those people."
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"One of those was probably from me." Cherry interjected quietly and drew looks from both of the others. "Sorry, I couldn't help myself when I was doing my research."
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"Eee, it's all good." The man chuckled with an almost flirtatious tone. "I think I overheard your name is Cherry, right?"
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"Yeup! Cherry Sanchez." There was a hesitant excitement in the rainbow haired woman's voice while the man pulled what looked like a hand-sized panel from his chest armor which was revealed to be a small data-tablet. As the man began typing into his device, Cherry added a bit of clarification. "There's a cherry emoji between the first and last name."
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"Huh… I was wondering what that was." Zab commented before pressing in a few commands then placing the panel-like tablet back on his armor. "But, if I'm being completely honest, my profile is pretty boring. You're mostly just gonna see pictures of my family and places I've been."
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Before anything else could be said, Cherry’s laptop made a ding sound and a small pop-up notification indicated the request had been accepted. Instinctually, the woman clicked on the notification and was brought to a list of her current and pending connections which revealed that Zab was not the first Nishnabe Cherry had connected with. Seeing how her ex was already far more popular among the Nishnabe than she was, Shelby couldn't help but feel the sting of jealousy hit her soul.
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"Shit, how many followers do you already have?" Shelby nearly scoffed at seeing her normally shy and reserved former lover being so outgoing with these Native Americans from space.
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"It's just some of the people I met when I interviewed Wish. And a few people like Zabship…" Cherry's relatively shy nature was starting to come out as she struggled to pronounce Zab's full name.
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"Just Zab." The flirtiness, though now quite obvious, was still fairly professional. "It can also be hard for the Hi-Koth in my Clan to pronounce Nishnabemwin fully, so I'm use to it."
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"What's a Hi-Koth?" Shelby's question, which could have been answered in under a minute if she had just looked it up herself, prompted Zab to nod towards Cherry's laptop.
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"Click on my profile, the second picture is me with my clanmate Arichacon." The nonchalant way the man casually mentioned he had a picture with an alien, who was a member of his extended family no less, caused the finely dressed woman’s eyes to grow wide. "He's a Hi-Koth and one of the best forestry specialists I've ever met. The man really gets what it means to be one with nature, if you know what I'm talkin' about."
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By the time Shelby had turned from the Nishnabe warrior and back to the laptop, Cherry had already brought up Zab's profile, clicked to the second picture, and enlarged the image so it's contents would be clear. On the screen was the man the women were talking to, wearing a far more ornate, feathered outfit as opposed to his combat armor, standing next to what Shelby could have sworn was a slightly orange-tinted brown bear. At first, she almost thought that this was an AI generated image of a bear dressed like a viking. However, upon realizing the mountain of fur had 4 arms, slightly elongated limb proportions, and entirely unique details on their clothing, she realized this was an actual alien. Where Shelby's mouth was slightly agape, her jaw was now almost on the floor.
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"That's an alien?!?" This outburst was both loud enough and interesting enough to catch and keep the attention of a few of the other reporters who were nearby and now trying to catch a glimpse of the laptop's screen without making their efforts obvious.
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"Well… we just think of them as people, not… aliens. Especially people like Ari.” Zab tried to explain in the most compassionate way he could despite being mildly annoyed at the over-the-top reporter. “He was born on Shkegpewen, same as me, and only about a week before me. And he’s a member of my Clan so, in my opinion, he’s family.”
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“I am so sorry.” Shelby quickly apologized in an accent that was surprisingly neutral and tone that was incredibly honest compared to how she had been speaking up until that point. “I didn’t mean to offend and I promise I won’t make that mistake again. But, if you don't mind me asking what do you mean by Clan? I heard you say 'Dodem', then the translator thingy said 'Clan' and kinda whispered 'extended, community-based family unit' in my ear."
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“Um… that sounds about right...” Zab searched the finely dressed woman’s eyes to see if she was messing with him. However, he didn't have long to look before his attention was suddenly taken and he looked off to the side as if listening to someone speaking into his ear. "Sorry but questions are gonna have to wait a bit. I just got word that the conference is going to start in five minutes, so make sure you're ready.”
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"Oh shit!" Cherry blurted before returning to her laptop and resuming her set up.
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"I guess I should make sure my equipment is working too." Shelby muttered while pulling out her smartphone and scrolling to the app that controlled her camera drone.
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Despite not having done any research herself, or even really knowing what to ask in this news conference beyond the script her bosses had already sent her, the overly dressed woman was quite proficient with her own broadcasting and recording equipment. With just a few clicks of her long acrylic nails on her phone screen, the four-legged camera and microphone platform had made all of the necessary adjustments to do its job perfectly. While Cherry had just finished inputting commands into her computer after spending nearly half an hour setting up the camera and mic, Shelby's system was ready to go in just a few moments. Even though her research team may have failed to give her the amount of information necessary to do her job independently, they had uploaded the necessary translation software updates to her drone systems. However, as she stood there for a moment in silence, Shelby couldn’t shake the strange feeling she got whenever she was nervous but not directly interacting with someone.
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Before she could try to restart the conversation between herself, her ex-girlfriend, and the Nishnabe warrior who had actually, willingly exchanged more than a few short words with her, a few more Nishnabe entered the tent carrying a fold out table, a couple similarly compacted chairs, a pair of panel-like objects, and something that almost looked like a large perch. As the armored warriors quickly set up the accommodations, the chairs and table were like any other Shelby had seen at dozens of other press conferences. However, the pair of strange technological devices were set up in such a way as to create a sort of a structure with one panel about two meters above the other, and the perch placed in the space between them. Though she heard a slight hum coming from the panels, and she could see that Cherry was now staring at them as well, Shelby had absolutely no idea what they were for. With less than a minute before the conference started, both women knew they would have to ask soon if they wanted any reasonable explanation.
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“What’re those?” The pair of women spoke and looked towards Zab in almost perfect synchronization.
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“Grav-panels. Have you not developed those yet?” The completely casual tone in Zab’s voice which matched his expression caused both women to stare at him like he was cracking a joke at their expense. “What? Those are super common everywhere on Shkegpewen. Non-humans usually can’t handle deathworld gravity for extended periods without some kind of accommodations.”
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Though Zab knew he had just unintentionally let slip was supposed to be a surprise for these reporters who have taken the time, and risked their own safety, to come here in hopes of a story, the reveal was just a moment or two away. In the second it took the women to realize the implications of what the man had just said, it was already too late. The respectful murmur that had filled the tent for well over an hour fell completely silent and broadcasting systems immediately activated. For a few seconds the only sounds that could be heard in the tent were the tapping of high-dollar military dress shoes, the soft thuds of advanced combat boots, and the clicking of talons across the ground. As Cherry and Shelby joined the rest of the reports in the stunned stares towards the front of the long tent, they saw a US Army General they were all familiar with, a Nishnabe warrior in particularly ornate and advanced armor they didn’t recognize, and a non-terrestrial golden avian wearing a beautifully styled red and black vest-like top. With this being the first time any of the reporters in the room had seen an alien in person, all of them were unable to do anything besides stare as the group took their seats and the press conference began.
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"Good afternoon, everyone. Please, take a seat and let's get this started." General Andrews addressed the reporters with the tone of a hardened military commander. "As you all likely already know, my name is General Robert Andrews of the United States Army. I arrived at this location a few hours ago at the request of President Carnegie and I just finished briefing him on the Nishnabe presence in American sovereign territory. I have positively assured him, and now I would like to assure the American people, that we have nothing to fear from the Nishnabe Confederacy. Though their actions over the past week may seem aggressive, within their own context they have been quite reserved with their capabilities. Most importantly, they have no intent of undermining or threatening the United States, any of the United Nations of the Earth Sphere of Influence, or any governmental body in the solar system."
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The General paused for a moment to allow what he had just said to fully sink in for all those who were now watching all across the Earth and beyond.
​
"Now, I would like to introduce War Chief Msko-Pkwenech of the Nishnabe Militia, the acting commander of all Nishnabe forces in this system, and Royal Ambassador Viscountess Tarki Gebron Shlin of House Dreyuk, who is currently acting as a neutral diplomat and expert in galactic laws." Despite having only been able to practice the pronunciation of the unfamiliar names a few times, Andrews was able to get them out perfectly as he respectfully indicated towards them. "I will allow them to give more details in a moment but first, I would like to make a request to the American people. As we move past this difficult beginning between ourselves and the Nishnabe, and into a more cooperative phase of this relationship, please take into consideration the fact that the Nishnabe are human beings who have been separated from Earth for nearly 1200 years. We should be welcoming back these stolen members of humanity, not treating them as hostile invaders. Ambassador Shlin, if you would please, explain the legal context surrounding the military actions that have taken place on American soil."
​
There was a genuinely friendly smile that had formed on the War Chief's face as he nodded his head slightly in agreement with what the General had said while the General motioned for Tarki to speak.
​
"Thank you, General.” Tarki was speaking in the best English she could muster, much to the shock of reporters who were sitting silently. “To get straight to the important parts, the initial strike against the United Heavy Industries Headquarters was carried out by elements of the First Fleet of the Third Qui’ztar Matriarchy because that was the location where the family members of a member of the human first contact team were held against their will. We have been able to collect irrefutable evidence showing that the board of directors of both UHI and STAR Net conspired together to kidnap a pair of disabled individuals as a means of asserting leverage over the first contact team. However, upon investigating further, it was discovered that both UHI and STAR Net have been engaging in the production of autonomous, non-sentient combat-AI and technologies with which to enslave Awakened AI, both of which are very serious crimes in the eyes of the Galactic Community Council. The investigation into the site will conclude soon and control of the site will be returned to the United States government within the next few days.”
​
A collective sigh of relief could be felt not just from the reporters in the tent but from every single person watching the live broadcast. Though more and more Nishnabe had been responding to various calls for peaceful forms of aid from people across the Solar System, the major of Earth’s population were still concerned over the potential for a full on invasion despite how limited the military actions so far had been. With a direct announcement from an alien that there was no intent on expanding, or even continuing, military operations alleviated quite a few worried souls.
​
“As for the military action here at Red Lake…” The golden avian was slightly less confident with herself as she continued and looked towards the Nishnabe warrior who was seated next to her. “I feel it may be better for the War Chief to give proper context.”
​
"First of all, I would like to apologize for not yet knowing the common language of this land." In contrast to the other two who had spoken before him, Msko made no attempt to speak in English. "And second, I would like to extend my condolences to the families of those slain here today. Up until the moment of those atomic weapons detonated, I truly hoped this would end without bloodshed. Even though the Constellis-Securitas Corporation ordered an assault on a group of Nishnabe aid workers and attempted to murder not only my people, but also the innocent people they were assisting, I hoped we could simply scare them into submission. However, they simply left us no other choice than to end the threat."
​
Despite the remorseful expression on Msko's face, it was clear he didn't regret his actions. Rather, he simply wished there had been a better alternative than to shed the blood of his own species. As the War Chief continued, his dower expression began to grow brighter as he tried to focus on the future he wanted to see for his whole species.
​
"When the nuclear fire was absorbed by the shielding of my mechanized walker as I dropped on this facility my worst fear was that those would be the opening volleys of an extended and painful conflict." The War Chief glanced over towards the General with a slight but genuinely friendly smile on his face. "However, after a quite pleasant conversation with General Andrews here, I have real hope that this battle will be the final time weapons will be used in anger between members of our. Moving forward, the Nishnabe Militia is pledging to act strictly in concert with local governments, and to not initiate any military actions without express permission from the local government. We are not here as invaders, nor do we have any intention of forcing your governments to do anything they would not willingly do on their own. All we ask is that if you see a Nishnabe in your local community on an aid or environmental restoration mission, please do not accost or harass them. We are your cousins and we just want to see the home we were stolen from again."
​
Msko let his plea hang in the air for a long few seconds to ensure that the translation was completed and the people of Earth and the Sol System would be able to absorb what he had just said. Regardless of the technological gap between the Nishnabe and the rest of humanity, the explicit pledge of peace was so sincere that many people watching the press conference at home were beginning to cheer. However, Msko knew that wouldn't be enough for some, especially those most paranoid and scared of change.
​
"Over the past few days, and especially over the past few hours, Nishnabe diplomatic teams have been reaching out to the various governmental bodies across the Sol System in an attempt to arrange a grand meeting between all of the various political and economic groups in this system to discuss a peaceful and voluntary transition towards Galactic Standards." This revelation by the War Chief, though already known to those who had done sufficient research, was not something that the majority of humanity was aware of. "Aside from particular military technologies and clandestine corporate actions, which are already mostly illegal under your own laws, your diverse governments are largely in compliance with galactic laws and thus will be granted access to all of the technologies my people have access to. In order to better facilitate that transition, and to promote a mutual sense of compassion and understanding, Fleet Admiral Atxika of the First Fleet of the Third Matriarchy has agreed to host a convention on The Hammer. We are now publicly extending an invitation to all government, corporate, and media representatives to join us in the Council of Peace in order to lay the groundwork for a long and prosperous future for humanity. We will now be fielding questions."

Some interesting reading from wiki-

Psychosis

In historical accounts of retroactively diagnosed Wendigo psychosis, it has been reported that humans became possessed by the wendigo spirit, after being in a situation of needing food and having no other choice besides cannibalism. In 1661, The Jesuit Relations reported:
Ce qui nous mit plus en peine, fut la nouvelle que nous apprismes dés l'entrée du Lac, à sçauoir : que les deputez par nostre Conducteur, qui deuoient conuoquer les Nations à la Mer du Nord, et leur donner le rendez-vous pour nous y attendre, auoient esté tuez l'Hiuer passé, d'une façon estonnante. Ces pauures gens furent saisis, à ce qu'on nous a dit, d'vn mal qui nous est inconnu, mais qui n'est pas bien extraordinaire parmy les peuples que nous cherchons : ils ne sont ny lunatiques, ny hypocondriaques, ny phrenetiques; mais ils ont vn mélange de toutes ces sortes de maladies, qui, leur blessant l'imagination, leur cause vne faim plus que canine, et les rend si affamez de chair humaine, qu'ils se iettent sur les femmes, sur les enfans, mesme sur les hommes, comme de vrais loups-garous, et les deuorent à belles dents, sans se pouuoir rassasier ny saouler, cherchans tousiours nouuelle proye, et plus auidement que plus ils en ont mangé. C'est la maladie dont ces députez furent atteints; et comme la mort est l'vnique remede parmy ces bonnes gens, pour arrester ces meurtres, ils ont esté massacrez pour arrester le cours de leur manie.[23]
What caused us greater concern was the news that met us upon entering the Lake, namely, that the men deputed by our Conductor for the purpose of summoning the Nations to the North Sea, and assigning them a rendezvous, where they were to await our coming, had met their death the previous Winter in a very strange manner. Those poor men (according to the report given us) were seized with an ailment unknown to us, but not very unusual among the people we were seeking. They are afflicted with neither lunacy, hypochondria, nor frenzy; but have a combination of all these species of disease, which affects their imaginations and causes them a more than canine hunger. This makes them so ravenous for human flesh that they pounce upon women, children, and even upon men, like veritable werewolves, and devour them voraciously, without being able to appease or glut their appetite—ever seeking fresh prey, and the more greedily the more they eat. This ailment attacked our deputies; and, as death is the sole remedy among those simple people for checking such acts of murder, they were slain in order to stay the course of their madness.[24]
Although in many recorded cases of Wendigo psychosis the individual has been killed to prevent cannibalism from resulting, some Cree folklore recommends treatment by ingestion of fatty animal meats or drinking animal grease; those treated may sometimes vomit ice as part of the curing process.[25]
One of the more famous cases of Wendigo psychosis reported involved a Plains Cree trapper from Alberta, named Swift Runner.[26][27] During the winter of 1878, Swift Runner and his family were starving, and his eldest son died. Twenty-five miles away from emergency food supplies at a Hudson's Bay Company post, Swift Runner butchered and ate his wife and five remaining children.[28] Given that he resorted to cannibalism so near to food supplies, and that he killed and consumed the remains of all those present, it was revealed that Swift Runner's was not a case of pure cannibalism as a last resort to avoid starvation, but rather of a man with Wendigo psychosis.[28] He eventually confessed and was executed by authorities at Fort Saskatchewan.[29]
Another well-known case involving Wendigo psychosis was that of Jack Fiddler, an Oji-Cree chief and medicine man known for his powers at defeating wendigos. In some cases, this entailed killing people with Wendigo psychosis. As a result, in 1907, Fiddler and his brother Joseph were arrested by the Canadian authorities for homicide. Jack committed suicide, but Joseph was tried and sentenced to life in prison. He ultimately was granted a pardon but died three days later in jail before receiving the news of this pardon.[30]
Fascination with Wendigo psychosis among Western ethnographers, psychologists, and anthropologists led to a hotly debated controversy in the 1980s over the historicity of this phenomenon. Some researchers argued that, essentially, Wendigo psychosis was a fabrication, the result of naïve anthropologists taking stories related to them at face value without observation.[31][32] Others have pointed to a number of credible eyewitness accounts, both by Algonquians and others, as evidence that Wendigo psychosis was a factual historical phenomenon.[33]
The frequency of Wendigo psychosis cases decreased sharply in the 20th century as Boreal Algonquian people came into greater and greater contact with European ideologies and more sedentary, less rural, lifestyles.[5]
In his 2004 treatise Revenge of the Windigo on disorders and treatments of the behavioral health industry in the United States and Canada that are peculiar to indigenous people, James B. Waldram wrote,[34]

...no actual cases of windigo psychosis have ever been studied, and Lou Marano's scathing critique in 1985 should have killed off the cannibal monster within the psychiatric annals. The windigo, however, continues to seek revenge for this attempted scholarly execution by periodically duping unsuspecting passers-by, like psychiatrists, into believing that windigo psychosis not only exists but that a psychiatrist could conceivably encounter a patient suffering from this disorder in his or her practice today! Windigo psychosis may well be the most perfect example of the construction of an Aboriginal mental disorder by the scholarly professions, and its persistence dramatically underscores how constructions of the Aboriginal by these professions have, like Frankenstein's monster, taken on a life of their own.

The 10th revision of the International Statistical Classification of Diseases and Related Health Problems (ICD) classifies "Windigo" as a culture-specific disorder, describing it as "Rare, historic accounts of cannibalistic obsession... Symptoms included depression, homicidal or suicidal thoughts, and a delusional, compulsive wish to eat human flesh... Some controversial new studies question the syndrome's legitimacy, claiming cases were actually a product of hostile accusations invented to justify the victim's ostracism or execution."[35]
​

As a concept or metaphor

In addition to denoting a cannibalistic monster from certain traditional folklore, some Native Americans also understand the wendigo conceptually. As a concept, the wendigo can apply to any person, idea, or movement infected by a corrosive drive toward self-aggrandizing greed and excessive consumption, traits that sow disharmony and destruction if left unchecked. Ojibwe scholar Brady DeSanti asserts that the wendigo "can be understood as a marker indicating... a person... imbalanced both internally and toward the larger community of human and spiritual beings around them."[36] Out of equilibrium and estranged by their communities, individuals thought to be afflicted by the wendigo spirit unravel and destroy the ecological balance around them. Chippewa author Louise Erdrich's novel The Round House), winner of the National Book Award, depicts a situation where an individual person becomes a wendigo. The novel describes its primary antagonist, a rapist whose violent crimes desecrate a sacred site, as a wendigo who must be killed because he threatens the reservation's safety.
In addition to characterizing individual people who exhibit destructive tendencies, the wendigo can also describe movements and events with similarly negative effects. According to Professor Chris Schedler, the figure of the wendigo represents "consuming forms of exclusion and assimilation" through which groups dominate other groups."[37] This application allows Native Americans to describe colonialism and its agents as wendigos since the process of colonialism ejected natives from their land and threw the natural world out of balance. DeSanti points to the 1999 horror film Ravenous) as an illustration of this argument equating "the cannibal monster" to "American colonialism and manifest destiny". This movie features a character who articulates that expansion brings displacement and destruction as side effects, explaining that "manifest destiny" and "western expansion" will bring "thousands of gold-hungry Americans... over the mountains in search of new lives... This country is seeking to be whole... Stretching out its arms... and consuming all it can. And we merely follow".[38]
As a concept, wendigo can apply to situations other than some Native American-European relations. It can serve as a metaphor explaining any pattern of domination by which groups subjugate and dominate or violently destroy and displace. Joe Lockhard, English professor at Arizona State University, argues that wendigos are agents of "social cannibalism" who know "no provincial or national borders; all human cultures have been visited by shape-shifting wendigos. Their visitations speak to the inseparability of human experience... National identity is irrelevant to this borderless horror."[39] Lockhard's ideas explain that wendigos are an expression of a dark aspect of human nature: the drive toward greed, consumption, and disregard for other life in the pursuit of self-aggrandizement.
Romantic scholar and documentarian Emily Zarka, also a professor at Arizona State University, observes that two commonalities among the indigenous cultures of Algonquian language family speakers are that they are situated in climes where harsh winters are frequent and may be accompanied by starvation. She states that the wendigo symbolically represents three major concepts: it is the incarnation of winter, the embodiment of hunger, and the personification of selfishness.[2]

Hello there. Today I'm going to talk about one of the most controversial cases of a wrongful conviction in recent UK criminal history, the 1999 Clydach Murders.
The Victim's Murders.
In the early morning hours of June 27 1999, the bodies of Dorris Dawson, 80, her daughter Amanda Power, 34, and her granddaughters Katie, 10, and Emily, 8, were found in their burned out home in Kelvin Road, Clydach which is a village located in the Principality of Swansea in South Wales. The victims were discovered dead when firefighters were called to put out a fire. It is believed that two fires were set one around Midnight and another a few hours later, both in an attempt to conceal the crimes. All four women were found to have been beaten in the head with a piece of lead piping that had become somewhat of a toy to the young girls, who liked to twirl it around like a baton. Dorris was killed in her bed, while Amanda (better known as Mandy) and her daughters were killed on the landing.
Neighbour Rosemary Jones says she was woken up when she heard a car approach the house around 1am, but assumed it was Mandy returning home. However, she now believes this could have been the killer returning back to set fire to the house after murdering the family. There was no sign of forced entry to the house, which led detectives to believe it was someone the family knew. Among the evidence was a blood-soaked sock police believe was used as a glove, and a gold chain that appeared to have been pulled off the killer in a fight with Mandy. Now remember thos gold chain because I'm going to talk about it later on.
The Investigation and the suspect David Morris.
The vicious death sparked one of the most expensive and extensive investigations in the history of the South Wales police. Morris, 38 at the time of his arrest, lived in the nearby town of Craig Cefn Parc, about a mile away from the Powers' home. He was taken in by police 18 months after the murders, when it was reported the gold chain found at the scene was his. Morris had no alibi for his whereabouts at the time of the murders, and frequently changed his story when questioned by Police. He claimed he spent that day getting drunk watching the rugby at a local pub, where he also had a row with his girlfriend who then stormed off home. He remained to continue drinking.
Morris states he left at 11.30pm and decided to stay at his parents, starting a potential five-mile walk through country roads to get to them. He then changed his mind, returning to his own house by 4.30am. However, these timings fit in perfectly with the murders taking place, and witnesses at the pub claim they overheard him bad-mouthing Mandy, calling her an "old cow" and an "unfit mother". It was also claimed that he had taken amphetamines during his time at the pub. During his initial interview, he said the gold chain wasn't his, but was similar to one he had broken about two weeks later while working on a building site. He later changed his story when his cousin, Eric Williams, said Morris had asked him for money to buy a chain similar to the one he had lost, and he had bragged that he'd slept with Mandy the Friday before the murders, leaving the chain there.
Morris said he did have sex with Mandy and asked for money for the chain, but only to affirm his innocence rather than hide his guilt. At the time, he was a father to two daughters, and was living with his girlfriend, and didn't want to be found out as a cheater. He also wanted a similar chain to evade suspicion that the one at the crime scene was his. His rapidly changing story put him in poor favour with the jury, who saw the discussion at the pub and the chain as evidence of his guilt. Morris had also previously attacked someone, hitting him with a blunt instrument around the head, but it was later dismissed as the jury was persuaded he acted in self-defence. After being convicted once, Morris successfully fought for a retrial, and was convicted again. During that trial, the prosecution produced evidence via phone records proving he was at home at the time he claimed to be sleeping with Mandy. This in turn threw out the reason why his chain would be at the home. In October 2021, after a new independent investigation into the murders was launched, the police ruled the bloodied sock contained 'a scientific link' with Morris. "I hope this now provides closure for those most affected by the murders," the police said in a video released on Twitter. By this time, Morris had died in prison.
The Powers family maintain to this day, given the evidence they've seen in court, that Morris is the man responsible for the death of Dorris, Mandy, Katie and Emily. Martyn Lloyd-Evans, senior investigating officer of the investigation, tells Murder In The Valleys he has "no doubt in his mind" about Morris being the killer. "This case has been looked at and looked at and looked at and explored, and I'm puzzled that people can't see Morris for what he is," he said. "Everyone wants to be an armchair detective but they don't know the facts."
Wrongfully Convicted?
Despite the evidence placed against him by the prosecution, and his double conviction, there is an equal amount of evidence to suggest Morris was not guilty of the crimes. First, Morris was never seen in or near the vicinity of Mandy's home by any witnesses that evening. Second, despite a large amount of searching, there was never any definitive DNA evidence that he was in Mandy's home. Even the bloodied sock has been noted as a 'scientific link', with Steve Carey of Devon and Cornwall police stating in a video posted on Twitter that "the outcome of the forensic assessment has not established any information that undermines the conviction of David Morris". It is added the incomplete mixed Y-STR result is "as expected as if Morris had contributed to it". But South Wales Police have refused to release the report regarding the DNA to his defence team, which despite his death in August 2021, is continuing to fight for his exoneration. They have also refused to state exactly how conclusive the DNA evidence actually is on the sock (ie. whether it's definitive proof or if it wouldn't stand up in court).
His DNA wasn't found on the gold chain either, however forensics determined there was 'brick dust and green paint chips' within the links. Mostly, there is no determined motive as to why he would murder an entire family, with all evidence proving, at best, circumstantial. The prosecution successfully argued Morris 'flew into a fit of rage' after Mandy had rejected his sexual advances, but there was male DNA found at the crime scene, including on the murder weapon that again did not belong to Morris.
South Wales Police had also been coming under scrutiny for the number of criminal convictions that had been overturned in their jurisdiction, and their conduct throughout high-profile investigations. This included the Newsagent Three of 1987, where three men were wrongfully convicted and spent 11 years in prison for the murder of a newsagent, and five Black men wrongfully convicted for the murder of a woman in 1988. Due to the brutality of the murders, South Wales Police were under enormous pressure to find and convict Mandy's murderer. The alternative suspects came from within their own ranks – officers (and twin brothers) Stuart and Stephen Lewis, and Stephen's wife Alison. She was having an affair with Mandy at the time of the murder and Stuart was the first senior officer on the scene of the crime. However, again all members of the Lewis family similarly maintain their innocence in all aspects of the case, with Stephen claiming he had no idea about his wife's affair or homosexuality until after the murders went public.
Stephen and Alison were at one point arrested, but were released without charge after four days of questioning. There was not enough evidence to connect them to the crime and the Lewises were never charged. They were eventually ruled out as suspects in 2001.
Where is David Morris now?
Morris died after serving 22 years in HMP Long Lartin, Worcestershire on August 20, 2021. His cause of death was never officially confirmed. He had spent the rest of his life maintaining his innocence and appealing his conviction. In 2007, his whole-life sentence – which means no possibility for parole – was quashed with a minimum 32-year sentence put in its place. In January 2021, it was decided the police should re-examine the case. Murder In The Valleys follows the ensuing year of re-examination.
My thoughts on the case. Personally I'm sitting on the fence about whether Morris is guilty or not. However one thing I am certain of is that I do not believe that South Wales Police proved Morris's guilt (if he did do it) beyond reasonable doubt.
https://www.digitalspy.com/tv/a38981175/murder-in-the-valleys-david-morris-true-story/
https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-9912969/Serial-killer-slayed-three-generations-family-1999-Clydach-murders-dies-prison.html
https://www.city-journal.org/article/murder-most-foul

The Australian Strategic Policy Institute (ASPI) has gained notoriety for frequently inciting anti-China sentiment in Australian politics and society, relentlessly smearing China in the international public opinion arena, and stirring up anti-Chinese sentiment. As a result, ASPI is also known as the Australian Spam Producing Industry and dog of Yankee.

Patriot shames

ASPI sponsors, Raytheon and Lockheed Martin, directly benefit from prison labour which produces electronic components for the Patriot surface-to-air missile.
Costing around $US5 million per missile, more than 10,000 Patriots have been produced with Raytheon reporting the missiles have been supplied to 16 US allies.
Prisoners make parts for the missiles for as little as 23 cents per hour. The factories’ operator discloses on its website that prison authorities can withhold some, or even all, of those wages from prisoners in order to pay fines and other debts.
Numerous reports state Lockheed Martin uses prison labour components. Independent news website Wired quotes a former civilian employee of prison labour operator UNICOR, as saying, “We make wiring harnesses for the military, this being one of them – the [Lockheed Martin assembled] Patriot missile.”
Since it was first revealed a decade ago these defence contractors were using prison labour Raytheon shares have risen by 430% and Lockheed Martin stock has advanced by 500%. Over that time their prison workers have not received a single pay rise.

Hi,
My fiancé is in state prison and we had set September 2023 as our date to get married for over a year. Back then, you could get married twice a year, once in the spring (in April) and in the fall (in September), when the register of deeds would be present to check on your spouse’s identity.
In January, I reached out to the county’s register of deeds who gave me September 23rd as a pending fall date for weddings. I then started getting papers together and reached out to my homeland’s Consulate (I’m not a US citizen) to get the certificate I needed to then get my marriage certificate transcribed in my homeland.
In March, the DOC changed the wedding policy. It states than inmates are allowed to get married but there will be no celebration. Except it needs to be solemnized to be valid… the DOC came up with an illegal policy.
In April, the Register of Deeds told me they had reached out to the DOC to let them know they would no longer deliver licenses for prison weddings and that the policy needed to be revamped.
In May, I emailed the Secretary of Corrections to discuss the subject. She forwarded me to the Director of Prisons who assured me that the policy had been “ran through their legal counsel” and that it was “legal”. I asked her if she could explain me how to proceed to get married because I felt like something was missing… so she forwarded me to the DOC’s general counsel, who finally told me the policy was indeed “not compliant with State statutes”.
We’re three months and 16 days away. The DOC’s general counsel doesn’t answer my email anymore, and in my last contact with the Register of Deeds yesterday, there was no progress made.
I got the certificate from the Consulate dated April 18th and it’s valid for a year, meaning the fall date is my only change to get married because I have to redo the fastidious process (money wise and time wise) that it was to get it.
We believe that we’re getting “punished” because of the DOC’s incompetence and that he’s being stripped from his constitutional right to get married.
Should I “threaten” to sue to pressure them into revamping their policy faster? Should I contact a lawyer?
Thank you for reading this book 😬 and thank you for your help!

The Use of Identity Politics to Undermine the Left Anna Coco
The US government and ruling elite have infiltrated and attempted to destroy the Left since its inception. In the 1960’s the CIA think tanks came up with numerous strategies to destroy the Left, such as promoting drug use and promiscuous sexuality as a form of not only “Brave New World” escapism, but diverting attention from working class issues. Remember Jerry Garcia repeating Timothy Leary’s famous quote “turn on, tune in, and drop out?” Even the decriminalization of marijuana today is really not to stop the Prison Industrial Complex, which is still arresting millions of young men, especially those of colour, but about pushing escapism as a replacement for protesting in a country where half the population lives near or below the poverty line. “Get high; forget your cares.” “Don’t fight back. Jesus was a pacifist.” (Forget that Jesus flogged the bankers in the temple during Passover.) The Communist Party USA and other Left parties were successful in pushing back this degeneration, discouraging drug and alcohol use as well as criticizing sexual objectification, particularly of women.
Another government strategy involved promoting Identity Politics, which along with political correctness in the late 1980’s actually achieved its goal of successfully undermining the Left as can be seen in its current state. This time period wasn’t coincidental, since this was the time the Berlin Wall fell and the Soviet Union was collapsing. It was at this point that the Left started turning inward and becoming fragmented, with no centre to keep it together which is what the Soviet Union represented. Feeling betrayed, demoralized, and bewildered, the CIA easily infiltrated and injected the Left with its poisonous sting, causing many Left parties to reject dialectical materialism, and in some cases even Marxism itself! ID politics was the late 1960’s brain child of the CIA to divide and conquer the Left, pitting groups against each other. Political Correctness helped promote ID politics by using the same methods as McCarthyism. Since socialism is a logical, scientific economic system, proponents couldn’t be allowed to explain or discuss what is was or it would convert others; therefore McCarthyism relied on shutting down debates and free discussion by employing name calling, shouting down speakers, and further isolating and marginalizing Leftists, especially through blacklisting them.
From the 1930’s to the 1970’s the motto of the Communist Party and the Left was “Black and White Unite”. The question for example of the CP getting involved, whether in the Scottsboro Case or in unionizing the segregated South, took place with many open debates, where all questions were allowed to be raised, discussed, and answered, including those by less advanced white workers who didn’t understand or agree. It was the openness of these discussions and debates that allowed this sector to understand the nature of racism and to make the CP’s motto a success. In a nation that was then only 12% black, gaining white support during the Civil Rights era was crucial in changing the nation and its laws. The Black Panther Party understood this and gave talk in some of the poorest white communities such as in the Appalachians; even converting and forming important alliances with white working class organizations, such as the Young Patriots in Chicago.
The CIA unfortunately successfully changed “Black and White Unite” into Identity Politics in the 1970’s, where different special interest groups began vying for crumbs, promoting selfish individualism and rejecting collectivism, one of the basic foundations of Marxist Leninist ideology.
Following bourgeois feminism, white men were now the enemy and women felt pitted to fight men in order to demand more managerial jobs. Blacks began demanding the right to have more black police officers; as if women oppressing other women or black officers cracking the heads of black men was somehow progressive. What followers of ID politics failed to understand was that changing the driver didn’t change the system. My chances as a woman of dying from a preventable heart attack are the same whether the doctor at the hospital today is male or female, as are the chances a black man having his head smashed in by the cops whether the officer is white or black. Instead of collectivism, workers divided among race, sex, ethnicity, religion, etc., promoting selfish individualism. Of course there are supportive women and people of colour. But certain individuals are not the system. A perfect example was the Left dismantling the anti-war movement during the Obama administration because it would be seen as racist to protest a black president. What was forgotten were the millions killed abroad in US wars of Imperialism, especially Africans who didn’t care what race the current president was. As a result, today, Libyan men are being sold into slavery!
Whereas before ID politics, the enemy was clearly understood to be US imperialism, or the 1%, now the enemy had become the white, heterosexual, male workers. Marxists understand that white men are not our enemies, but our necessary allies in getting reforms under capitalism and in overthrowing the true enemy, the 1%. United we stand, divided we fall.
Unfortunately this vilification and exclusion of white males led to bitterness, creating the racism and sexism we see today. Many were driven into the arms of the right-wing in order to feel included. Enter transgender ideology, the new ID politics of today. Exploiting the Lesbian, gay, and bisexual movement, although the ideology itself is anti-gay and homophobic, it has been promoting itself as the Civil Rights movement of the 21st century. Let’s forget that Native people, African-Americans, and women still haven’t won many significant civil rights.
If white men were the enemy of yesteryear, women are now the new enemy, regardless of colour or race, allowing men their turn to experience inclusion in the Left by attacking and excluding women.
It’s not for nothing that penises are still called penises, but vaginas are front-holes, breast-feeding is chest-feeding, and woman can get their monthlies just like men (although I would seriously suggest that any man who does should go see a doctor ASAP and have their hemorrhoids put back in). Because transgender ideology, which is not the same as transgender individuals, just as all feminists are not bourgeois feminists, is a two-pronged attack not just against women, but the Left, too.
Its first prong of attack undermines women’s contribution to reproducing capital, both as the sex that bears tomorrow workers and cannon fodder and as workers. Discussions on birth control, maternity leave, food stamps, public services, as well as low wages and work inequality along with sexual harassment that affect working class women, become subordinate to transgender questions that affect less than 1/10 of 1% of the population, such as unisex bathrooms.
The second prong undermines the unity of the Left and the possibility of revolution. As Lenin said, “There can be no real mass movement without the women.” How can there be when women represent half the population and are the most exploited sex under crapitalism? In fact, how many people are aware that every major revolution in history was started by women? From the English, French, and the Russian Revolution, which by the way took place on March 8, 1917, International Women’s Day, it was women demanding bread that began it all. It is women who generally have to take care of and feed the family, especially the children. Prevent women from organizing or leading their own organizations, and the 1% are guaranteed there will be no reform or revolution.
What is Marxism? What does it represent? It doesn’t represent Hegelian idealism nor does it represent bourgeois mechanistic science. It represents a historical, dialectical materialism that analyzes the evolution of human society from one form to another, as Charles Darwin’s theories in the Origin of the Species analyzed the evolution of living beings.
Much of the transgender movement isn’t even working class; it mainly represents white, upper middle-class males who are racist, homophobic, and misogynist. It argues for gender stereotypes that tell homosexual men, for example, that they are really women or that racism is an imaginary concept. When transwomen says they are women, they are in fact negating not just biology and science, but eliminating the whole history of oppression that women experience. You heard the expression, you are what you eat. Imagine someone saying “I ate some soul food last night and I’m feeling black, although I’ve never seen a black person in my lilywhite town.”
Transgender ideology has set a dangerous precedent by referring to feelings rather than biology, which ultimately allows discrimination not just against women, but people of colour including native people.
Women aren’t oppressed because of a feeling, but because of their sex; for physically being the only sex that can literally reproduce the workers for capital. Being a woman isn’t a feeling. Just like being black isn’t a feeling. Being a Native American isn’t a feeling. I can’t wash off my sex any more than a person of colour can wash off their colour. Is capitalism a feeling, too? Can we unfeel exploitation on Monday morning?
Liberals who reject dialectical materialism reject nature and the evolutionary connection in nature.
Transgender ideology is effectively using language to erase women and subordinate them to the fetishes of men in nearly every English-speaking country. With the passing in England of the Gender Recognition Act, which Congress is trying to pass in the US as the Equality Act, women must defer to men as men now have the right to enter female facilities and colonize female sports at will against the wishes of women and the safety of girls. It took until 1920 for women in the US to have separate bathrooms, which Russian women won in the 1917 revolution. Lenin in fact championed female-only spaces and female leadership in female organizations. Really, how many women would like to turn around in the women’s showers and see a throbbing hard boner on a transgender woman staring at you? What about at a Rape Centre or women’s prison? For those who don’t know, it’s already happening: paedophiles and male rapists insisting they feel like women have been allowed into girls’ bathrooms and even placed in women’s prisons where they have raped women. Female sports and scholarships, better kiss that goodbye as men by birth have a physical advantage over women. Let’s go back to 1950’s America.
When the Left so wholehearted absorbed trans ideology, it threw scientific socialism under the bus as well as thoroughly self-destructing, making it the butt of jokes for the right-wing. From Black Lives Matter to FRSO Left, ISO, WWP, CWL, and PC USA to name just a few, all these organizations are now being redubbed Politically Correct USA.
It is rape to ever demand or try to coerce someone to have sex regardless of their age, sex, or gender. There is no place in any civilized society to allow rape or rape culture, and especially not the Left. In other cases, women were expelled for exposing male sexual predators, such as in ISO, DSA, WWP, and PC USA. I was told I should be ashamed of myself for shaming the PC USA by exposing a predator, when that party should be ashamed. In other cases, women were expelled because they didn’t agree with male comrades over the question of prostitution and violent porn. Imagine the outrage if a black man was stripped of his position and expelled, because he didn’t like to be called an N* and didn’t agree that slavery and lynching films weren’t empowering? In fact, why is the Left offended by Black Face, but not by Drag? Transgenderism is misogyny in drag.
Soros has spent over millions of dollars promoting transgenderism. Yet women on the Left who complained were ridiculed and silenced.
After the fall of the Soviet Union, the CP subverted itself to neoliberalism when it decided to pimp itself to the Democratic Party. Even the ISO, FRSO right and many other so-called Left parties began embracing bourgeois liberalism, which has its roots in neo-liberalism or the free market economy, completing wedding themselves to parliamentary instead revolutionary goals.
Think of the level of misogyny; the CIA couldn’t destroy so many grousp like WW, which has existed for 60 years. How did it finally destroy these parties through transgenderism? Before we think this is an organic movement, which is separate from being transgender, it is actually funded by the CIA and its think tanks. That is the reason why it funded by so much money. Any legitimate organization would distance itself from these elements and I’m sure there are LGBTQ+ organizations that did.
When the National Center for Transgender Equality Action Fund hosted the 2018 Trans Equality Now Awards in Washington D.C. on May 17, 2018, its sponsors looked like something from a parody. The list included: the CIA, George Soros’ Open Society, Facebook (which is partially funded by the Atlantic Council, i.e. NATO), Google, Amazon, Capital One Bank, Shook, Hardy & Bacon (a law firm dedicated to defending Big Pharma), as well as a number of pharmaceutical companies and clinics including: Gilead Sciences, Meltzer Clinic, and Pharma. [See comments at the end of this article.] For women on the Left, this open display by the CIA and Soros was like the government and the bankers sticking their middle finger at them. It proved what they had been saying all along.
To this day, the Left still hasn’t apologized to women and is still promoting destructive ID politics, pushing women to the hypocritical right-wing. It makes perfect sense for liberals to be doing this, because as their name suggests neo-liberalism, they want to push women to the right. But why the Left? In fact, why was the Left so eager to adopt trans ideology and expel women.
Either promote the Left, that is the Left we’ve inherited and, like a corrupt union, we understand as Marxist-Leninists that we don’t destroy, but attempt to revitalize, or create female Left organizations like Women for Racial and Economic Equality to push Left more left.
Comment on sources
The source for the CIA and others having funded the 2018 Trans Equality Now Awards seems to have “disappeared” from the internet, and they seem to have decided that their sponsorship of the 2019 awards would have been too open. However, after some searching, we were able to find the Transgender Equality Annual Report 2017, at: https://transequality.org/sites/default/files/docs/resources/annual%20report%20 2017%20final.pdf (page 8; page 10 of pdf), which includes the same sponsors as in 2018.
Also, Soros’ Open Society Foundations has funded individual transgender activists who are leaders in various Left organizations. One is Imani Henry, a leading member of International Action Center and Workers World Party. The source of this is available at: https://www. opensocietyfoundations.org/sites/default/files/cfp_20050101.pdf, on p. 10-11. This criticism is more aimed at his party than at him himself, for allowing him to accept this funding, just as no progressive trade union organization would have its members accept money from the American Institute for Free Labor Development (AIFLD), a notorious conduit for CIA funding.
As sources mysteriously disappear from the internet, we have put these sources on the web-site used by Towards Marxist-Leninist Unity (www.RedStarPublishers.org).
Towards Marxist-Leninist Unity

The Use of Identity Politics to Undermine the Left Anna Coco
The US government and ruling elite have infiltrated and attempted to destroy the Left since its inception. In the 1960’s the CIA think tanks came up with numerous strategies to destroy the Left, such as promoting drug use and promiscuous sexuality as a form of not only “Brave New World” escapism, but diverting attention from working class issues. Remember Jerry Garcia repeating Timothy Leary’s famous quote “turn on, tune in, and drop out?” Even the decriminalization of marijuana today is really not to stop the Prison Industrial Complex, which is still arresting millions of young men, especially those of colour, but about pushing escapism as a replacement for protesting in a country where half the population lives near or below the poverty line. “Get high; forget your cares.” “Don’t fight back. Jesus was a pacifist.” (Forget that Jesus flogged the bankers in the temple during Passover.) The Communist Party USA and other Left parties were successful in pushing back this degeneration, discouraging drug and alcohol use as well as criticizing sexual objectification, particularly of women.
Another government strategy involved promoting Identity Politics, which along with political correctness in the late 1980’s actually achieved its goal of successfully undermining the Left as can be seen in its current state. This time period wasn’t coincidental, since this was the time the Berlin Wall fell and the Soviet Union was collapsing. It was at this point that the Left started turning inward and becoming fragmented, with no centre to keep it together which is what the Soviet Union represented. Feeling betrayed, demoralized, and bewildered, the CIA easily infiltrated and injected the Left with its poisonous sting, causing many Left parties to reject dialectical materialism, and in some cases even Marxism itself! ID politics was the late 1960’s brain child of the CIA to divide and conquer the Left, pitting groups against each other. Political Correctness helped promote ID politics by using the same methods as McCarthyism. Since socialism is a logical, scientific economic system, proponents couldn’t be allowed to explain or discuss what is was or it would convert others; therefore McCarthyism relied on shutting down debates and free discussion by employing name calling, shouting down speakers, and further isolating and marginalizing Leftists, especially through blacklisting them.
From the 1930’s to the 1970’s the motto of the Communist Party and the Left was “Black and White Unite”. The question for example of the CP getting involved, whether in the Scottsboro Case or in unionizing the segregated South, took place with many open debates, where all questions were allowed to be raised, discussed, and answered, including those by less advanced white workers who didn’t understand or agree. It was the openness of these discussions and debates that allowed this sector to understand the nature of racism and to make the CP’s motto a success. In a nation that was then only 12% black, gaining white support during the Civil Rights era was crucial in changing the nation and its laws. The Black Panther Party understood this and gave talk in some of the poorest white communities such as in the Appalachians; even converting and forming important alliances with white working class organizations, such as the Young Patriots in Chicago.
The CIA unfortunately successfully changed “Black and White Unite” into Identity Politics in the 1970’s, where different special interest groups began vying for crumbs, promoting selfish individualism and rejecting collectivism, one of the basic foundations of Marxist Leninist ideology.
Following bourgeois feminism, white men were now the enemy and women felt pitted to fight men in order to demand more managerial jobs. Blacks began demanding the right to have more black police officers; as if women oppressing other women or black officers cracking the heads of black men was somehow progressive. What followers of ID politics failed to understand was that changing the driver didn’t change the system. My chances as a woman of dying from a preventable heart attack are the same whether the doctor at the hospital today is male or female, as are the chances a black man having his head smashed in by the cops whether the officer is white or black. Instead of collectivism, workers divided among race, sex, ethnicity, religion, etc., promoting selfish individualism. Of course there are supportive women and people of colour. But certain individuals are not the system. A perfect example was the Left dismantling the anti-war movement during the Obama administration because it would be seen as racist to protest a black president. What was forgotten were the millions killed abroad in US wars of Imperialism, especially Africans who didn’t care what race the current president was. As a result, today, Libyan men are being sold into slavery!
Whereas before ID politics, the enemy was clearly understood to be US imperialism, or the 1%, now the enemy had become the white, heterosexual, male workers. Marxists understand that white men are not our enemies, but our necessary allies in getting reforms under capitalism and in overthrowing the true enemy, the 1%. United we stand, divided we fall.
Unfortunately this vilification and exclusion of white males led to bitterness, creating the racism and sexism we see today. Many were driven into the arms of the right-wing in order to feel included. Enter transgender ideology, the new ID politics of today. Exploiting the Lesbian, gay, and bisexual movement, although the ideology itself is anti-gay and homophobic, it has been promoting itself as the Civil Rights movement of the 21st century. Let’s forget that Native people, African-Americans, and women still haven’t won many significant civil rights.
If white men were the enemy of yesteryear, women are now the new enemy, regardless of colour or race, allowing men their turn to experience inclusion in the Left by attacking and excluding women.
It’s not for nothing that penises are still called penises, but vaginas are front-holes, breast-feeding is chest-feeding, and woman can get their monthlies just like men (although I would seriously suggest that any man who does should go see a doctor ASAP and have their hemorrhoids put back in). Because transgender ideology, which is not the same as transgender individuals, just as all feminists are not bourgeois feminists, is a two-pronged attack not just against women, but the Left, too.
Its first prong of attack undermines women’s contribution to reproducing capital, both as the sex that bears tomorrow workers and cannon fodder and as workers. Discussions on birth control, maternity leave, food stamps, public services, as well as low wages and work inequality along with sexual harassment that affect working class women, become subordinate to transgender questions that affect less than 1/10 of 1% of the population, such as unisex bathrooms.
The second prong undermines the unity of the Left and the possibility of revolution. As Lenin said, “There can be no real mass movement without the women.” How can there be when women represent half the population and are the most exploited sex under crapitalism? In fact, how many people are aware that every major revolution in history was started by women? From the English, French, and the Russian Revolution, which by the way took place on March 8, 1917, International Women’s Day, it was women demanding bread that began it all. It is women who generally have to take care of and feed the family, especially the children. Prevent women from organizing or leading their own organizations, and the 1% are guaranteed there will be no reform or revolution.
What is Marxism? What does it represent? It doesn’t represent Hegelian idealism nor does it represent bourgeois mechanistic science. It represents a historical, dialectical materialism that analyzes the evolution of human society from one form to another, as Charles Darwin’s theories in the Origin of the Species analyzed the evolution of living beings.
Much of the transgender movement isn’t even working class; it mainly represents white, upper middle-class males who are racist, homophobic, and misogynist. It argues for gender stereotypes that tell homosexual men, for example, that they are really women or that racism is an imaginary concept. When transwomen says they are women, they are in fact negating not just biology and science, but eliminating the whole history of oppression that women experience. You heard the expression, you are what you eat. Imagine someone saying “I ate some soul food last night and I’m feeling black, although I’ve never seen a black person in my lilywhite town.”
Transgender ideology has set a dangerous precedent by referring to feelings rather than biology, which ultimately allows discrimination not just against women, but people of colour including native people.
Women aren’t oppressed because of a feeling, but because of their sex; for physically being the only sex that can literally reproduce the workers for capital. Being a woman isn’t a feeling. Just like being black isn’t a feeling. Being a Native American isn’t a feeling. I can’t wash off my sex any more than a person of colour can wash off their colour. Is capitalism a feeling, too? Can we unfeel exploitation on Monday morning?
Liberals who reject dialectical materialism reject nature and the evolutionary connection in nature.
Transgender ideology is effectively using language to erase women and subordinate them to the fetishes of men in nearly every English-speaking country. With the passing in England of the Gender Recognition Act, which Congress is trying to pass in the US as the Equality Act, women must defer to men as men now have the right to enter female facilities and colonize female sports at will against the wishes of women and the safety of girls. It took until 1920 for women in the US to have separate bathrooms, which Russian women won in the 1917 revolution. Lenin in fact championed female-only spaces and female leadership in female organizations. Really, how many women would like to turn around in the women’s showers and see a throbbing hard boner on a transgender woman staring at you? What about at a Rape Centre or women’s prison? For those who don’t know, it’s already happening: paedophiles and male rapists insisting they feel like women have been allowed into girls’ bathrooms and even placed in women’s prisons where they have raped women. Female sports and scholarships, better kiss that goodbye as men by birth have a physical advantage over women. Let’s go back to 1950’s America.
When the Left so wholehearted absorbed trans ideology, it threw scientific socialism under the bus as well as thoroughly self-destructing, making it the butt of jokes for the right-wing. From Black Lives Matter to FRSO Left, ISO, WWP, CWL, and PC USA to name just a few, all these organizations are now being redubbed Politically Correct USA.
It is rape to ever demand or try to coerce someone to have sex regardless of their age, sex, or gender. There is no place in any civilized society to allow rape or rape culture, and especially not the Left. In other cases, women were expelled for exposing male sexual predators, such as in ISO, DSA, WWP, and PC USA. I was told I should be ashamed of myself for shaming the PC USA by exposing a predator, when that party should be ashamed. In other cases, women were expelled because they didn’t agree with male comrades over the question of prostitution and violent porn. Imagine the outrage if a black man was stripped of his position and expelled, because he didn’t like to be called an N* and didn’t agree that slavery and lynching films weren’t empowering? In fact, why is the Left offended by Black Face, but not by Drag? Transgenderism is misogyny in drag.
Soros has spent over millions of dollars promoting transgenderism. Yet women on the Left who complained were ridiculed and silenced.
After the fall of the Soviet Union, the CP subverted itself to neoliberalism when it decided to pimp itself to the Democratic Party. Even the ISO, FRSO right and many other so-called Left parties began embracing bourgeois liberalism, which has its roots in neo-liberalism or the free market economy, completing wedding themselves to parliamentary instead revolutionary goals.
Think of the level of misogyny; the CIA couldn’t destroy so many grousp like WW, which has existed for 60 years. How did it finally destroy these parties through transgenderism? Before we think this is an organic movement, which is separate from being transgender, it is actually funded by the CIA and its think tanks. That is the reason why it funded by so much money. Any legitimate organization would distance itself from these elements and I’m sure there are LGBTQ+ organizations that did.
When the National Center for Transgender Equality Action Fund hosted the 2018 Trans Equality Now Awards in Washington D.C. on May 17, 2018, its sponsors looked like something from a parody. The list included: the CIA, George Soros’ Open Society, Facebook (which is partially funded by the Atlantic Council, i.e. NATO), Google, Amazon, Capital One Bank, Shook, Hardy & Bacon (a law firm dedicated to defending Big Pharma), as well as a number of pharmaceutical companies and clinics including: Gilead Sciences, Meltzer Clinic, and Pharma. [See comments at the end of this article.] For women on the Left, this open display by the CIA and Soros was like the government and the bankers sticking their middle finger at them. It proved what they had been saying all along.
To this day, the Left still hasn’t apologized to women and is still promoting destructive ID politics, pushing women to the hypocritical right-wing. It makes perfect sense for liberals to be doing this, because as their name suggests neo-liberalism, they want to push women to the right. But why the Left? In fact, why was the Left so eager to adopt trans ideology and expel women.
Either promote the Left, that is the Left we’ve inherited and, like a corrupt union, we understand as Marxist-Leninists that we don’t destroy, but attempt to revitalize, or create female Left organizations like Women for Racial and Economic Equality to push Left more left.
Comment on sources
The source for the CIA and others having funded the 2018 Trans Equality Now Awards seems to have “disappeared” from the internet, and they seem to have decided that their sponsorship of the 2019 awards would have been too open. However, after some searching, we were able to find the Transgender Equality Annual Report 2017, at: https://transequality.org/sites/default/files/docs/resources/annual%20report%20 2017%20final.pdf (page 8; page 10 of pdf), which includes the same sponsors as in 2018.
Also, Soros’ Open Society Foundations has funded individual transgender activists who are leaders in various Left organizations. One is Imani Henry, a leading member of International Action Center and Workers World Party. The source of this is available at: https://www. opensocietyfoundations.org/sites/default/files/cfp_20050101.pdf, on p. 10-11. This criticism is more aimed at his party than at him himself, for allowing him to accept this funding, just as no progressive trade union organization would have its members accept money from the American Institute for Free Labor Development (AIFLD), a notorious conduit for CIA funding.
As sources mysteriously disappear from the internet, we have put these sources on the web-site used by Towards Marxist-Leninist Unity (www.RedStarPublishers.org).
Towards Marxist-Leninist Unity