The /wallstreetbets GME retail investors vs the 0.1% situation has lead me to a place of clarity. The game is rigged, and the owners of the system will react with haste and break any laws they must to protect their cartel. For those not following the event
- Retail investors, realised the shares of GME and some other companies were heavily shorted and in short supply, so they started buying in the hope of forcing a short squeeze (whereby the holder of the shorts will then have to buy more stock to cover their shorts, sending the price through the roof, an example is Volkswagen [VW] in the 2000's). This is perfectly legal.
- the plan worked, GME went from $2 to $470 in a short space of time.
- Melvin Capital, a Hedge fund took a massive (likely $6 billion) short position in GME and faced closure if the bet went against them, they were losing money at a fast rate and got a bail out last week by other wall street Hedge funds.
- Melvin Capital then went on CNBC and other networks to reveal they had closed their short positions, it's highly unlikely as the options volume did not back up their claim, they were simply spreading disinformation, again this is perfectly legal
- the retail investors at /wallstreetbets simply would not give up, they kept buying, the end goal could have seen the stock reach $5K based on the VW scenario.
- the 0.1% moved to then protect the 0.1% from losing money by using the stock brokerages they own or control(Robinhood, TD, IB and all the other big players) to firstly prevent the retail investors buying more stock, you could simply not buy these stocks, you could only sell, some companies even forcibly closed down open options positons even in the absense of margin calls, so your account is in good standing with enough liquidity and they decide which stock you can have and which you can not, in this time big institutions are allowed to buy as much of this stock as they desire, just the retail traders are locked out of the casino. This is highly illegal and known as market manipulation, it also flies in the face of the idea that we have a free market.
- people like AOC, Elon Musk, Chamath have all come out on the site of the retail traders at /wallstreetbets
- Interactive Brokers chairman and founder Thomas Peterffy goes on CNBC’s “Closing Bell” an is literally weeping, explaining he feels hurt that his large, moneyed 0.1% friends are losing money due to the retail investors, oh the horror, how can these small investors make my friends lose money? Don't they know the implications of their actions? The horror.
The guys at /wallstreetbets simply did not understand that in our world only old money gets to make real money, the little guy must be shut down and should never have a slice of the action, all he gets is inflation and a 9 to 5 job, plus side hustle if he/she's lucky. If the little guy ever finds a way to gain an advantage the loophole is quickly closed.
- the SEC Chair then threatens to investigate the redditors on /wallstreetbets by tracking down their IP numbers with the help of reddit
- The /wallstreetbets discord server is banned.
All the years I talked trash about bitcoin, I apologise, now I genuinely understand the value of having a system not controlled by the government, where they can not on a whim decide to inflate the money supply and bail out their friends, while you carry the load in the form of additional taxes and inflation.

In 2009 Ohio voters passed a constitutional amendment allowing for 4 casinos in Cleveland, Columbus, Cincinnati, & Toledo. Construction began on the Cincinnati casino in 2011 with Horseshoe Cincinnati opening in 2013. Over the years the Cincinnati Casino has changed hands and branding multiple times and has failed to build the hotel that was expected to be constructed a few years after opening. Overall from what I've heard the Cincinnati casino doesn't seem to be doing that well and a lot of people complain about them being one of stingiest around with payouts. A few days ago it was reported that Dan Gilbert the one time owner of the Cincinnati & Cleveland casinos and the "money" behind the push to legalize gambling back in 2009 is selling his Cleveland property. I guess Ohio casinos were not the windfall they were thought to be.
So here is a question: Has the Cincinnati casino lived up to voter's expectations as a generator of tax revenue and as a boon to tourism in the Cincinnati area? Or has Ohio's lucky numbers proven to be unfruitful as other states like Kentucky & Indiana attempt to elevate their game?

// I posted this on the German Wallstreetbets subreddit earlier today and got a hint that a translated version would be relevant for you guys as well. The good https://www.reddit.com/useatticus_marmorkuchen has thankfully translated the text and replaced a few German terms with the American terms. You can find the original thread here: https://www.reddit.com/mauerstrassenwetten/comments/l6s69h/fickt_euch_medien/ - Stay strong my retards!
​
Hello everyone,
as we all know, the majority of mainstream media is now aware of our situation and they are calling us gamblers and „internet kids“ who don’t understand the market. Perhaps this is due to billionaire market manipulation, perhaps it is what they really think about us. Either way, it makes me fucking mad.
I’m well in my 30s now, worked for over 10 years and did everything they expected of me: A bachelor and master in engineering, then even an MBA after that. I started work-live at 22 and did my two masters degrees simultaneously, just so I can start growing my 401k as early as possible.
By now I make 140 000 $ a year. During all this time I industriously invested in ETFs and the like. I even bought a few cryptos here and the odd share there. Every two years I get a letter telling me that I just earned another 2 points for my pension fund and that in the future I will be eligible to receive my long awaited retirement money. Roughly 3 000 $ per month (before tax).
3 000 $? This is about 26% of my current monthly income. This is a fucking joke. And you know what drives me mad? I will have to tax it 100%. I don’t profit from all the tax cuts boomers got in the 90s and early 00s.
Do you understand what I want to tell you? Do you get it now? We can already see, that all future generations are fucked. And meanwhile we are bailing out boomers who back in the days could afford to buy a house with a stupid 9to5 where all you had to do was clock in. With a safe job that didn’t require you to be flexible and work after hours. And these people now are telling us we are gamblers and we „should just work hard“ so we can earn our property.
Now let’s talk about GME. The internet kids that are fucking over the hedge-funds and wall-street. The inexperienced, stupid traders that violate the rules of the market.
Rules? It was you! You made these rules. You told us what we are allowed to do. And now we have found a stock, that we maybe even have a little nostalgia attached to (despite their terrible trade-in offers, it was always a place where you could hang out with friends to browse and it was a cool hotspot for gamers). And then we see the numbers, see the percentage of shorts, the incredible amount and wonder: is that justified? A company, that tries to reinvent itself and payed off their debt. And we realize, that the stock was perhaps a bit underrated.
So the internet starts to discuss. Numbers are collected, DDs are produced, analysis published. And we don’t need you for that. We don’t need CNBC, WSJ or The Post. All the information is on the internet, free for everybody to find. And finally even the last retard sees and understands: Your greedy hedgefunds fucked up. Big time. You fucked up and now we can profit.
And it makes me mad how we are getting blasted from all angles now, how they even consider halting the trade for 30 days. Where were you, when Lehman fucked us over? Where were you when the dotcom bubble burst? Where were you, when millions lost their homes over some bust in the casino full of fancy dressed suits that we call the wallstreet? Right…, I forgot. It only affected the guy from the street and not the real big players. Because them you bailed out.
And where are you now, when Corona (not only) financially fucked a majority of our generation and probably the generations to come? Where are the bailouts for students? Where is our rent bailout? 600 $? Is this a joke? Many people are lucky when they can even survive 1 month longer with that.
Fuck yourself. You don’t give us the chance for a secure retirement, you don’t give the young generations stability during the crisis. We are starting our working life with the perspective, that in the end we could very well end up in poverty and at the same time encourage normal people to make debt that they perhaps never will be able to repay.
And then you disgusting animals are mad when we buy GME after your old friends have become too greedy and we see our potential for good a good return.
But I will HOLD. I will never stop holding. And I will refuel the rocket. Because I can. And because with every single penny that I put into GME, some jerk on Wallstreet will choke and the suits start gasping.

(Note: be warned, kind of long background info here, but I think it’s needed)
As far as interesting lives, few can beat Benjamin ‘Bugsy’ Siegel. Born February 28, 1906 in Brooklyn, New York, Siegel came from a poor Jewish family. Before he was even twenty, he’d established a profitable protection racket and a lengthy rap sheet, including armed robbery, rape, and murder. Siegel had connections—he was childhood friends with Al Capone and familiar with many of the well known New York City mobsters of the day—and he also had a taste for violence. Soon, he’d established a small mob specializing in hits for the numerous bootleg gangs of the time with Meyer Lansky, a fellow mobster. His violence and short temper led some to say he was “crazy as a bedbug,” giving him his famous nickname ‘Bugsy,’ which he even more famously despised.
Siegel was making money, which he was happy to flaunt, but he wanted more. He carried out several hits for Charles “Lucky” Luciano, and eventually formed Murder Inc. with his associates, establishing himself as a skilled hitman for the National Crime Syndicate, an organization of mob families. But Siegel was already making enemies, and several assassination attempts were made on his life, some of which came very close to being successful. So, it was time to move out west.
In California, Siegel helped establish gambling rackets, drug trade routes, and prostitution rings. His star was rising outside of the Underworld too, and in addition to the numerous politicians and police on his payroll, he befriended stars like Cary Grant and Clark Gable. Incredibly, while in Italy with a socialite in 1938, he met Hermann Goering and Joseph Goebbels, whom he immediately disliked and offered to kill. The offer was declined by his lady friend. Yet Siegel was not always looked upon fondly by the upper echelons of Hollywood; he borrowed exorbitantly from celebrities, knowing he would never be asked to pay it back, and began to develop extensive plans to extort movie studios. After several trials and acquittals for failed and successful hits, it was time to leave California.
Siegel’s next stop was Las Vegas where, in 1945, he purchased and developed the Flamingo Hotel & Casino, the first luxury hotel on the Vegas strip. As you might imagine, that was expensive, and over the course of its construction, costs were equivalent to over $61 million in today’s money each year. Siegel’s checks were bouncing, and many of the locals felt threatened by him. Mob bosses were beginning to lose patience with Siegel too, and he was refusing to report on business, claiming he was running the California Syndicate himself. For now, they left him alone—he'd been valuable in the past, after all.
The Flamingo Hotel was a dismal failure, and people—very powerful people—were starting to get tired of waiting for the promised money to materialize. By 1947, it was gradually turning around—with the help of Meyer Lansky, now in Vegas—but for most, it was too little too late.
Death:
On June 20, 1947, Siegel was gunned down in the Beverly Hills home of his sometimes-girlfriend Virginia Hill. He was 41. Somewhat suspiciously, Hill had taken an unscheduled flight to Paris the day (or by some sources, week) before. As Siegel sat reading the newspaper with associate Allen Smiley, an unknown assailant fired with a .30 caliber military M1 carbine through the window, striking Siegel many times (NSFW). Two shots hit his head, with one passing through his right cheek and the other his nose. Though he was not hit directly through the eye (NSFW), a bullet-in-the-eye death became a popular trope in Mafia media, including in the Godfather, where a character based on Siegel is murdered in the same manner.
The death was covered extensively in the media, which portrayed Vegas as a bastion of sin and mafia activity. As early as the day after Siegel’s death (or, as some sources have it, during Siegel’s death), however, more personal things were changing: Lansky walked into the Flamingo and took over operations.
Theories:
The mob is famously tight-lipped, and Siegel’s death was no exception. Despite the extensive speculation, no precise motive has ever been confirmed. There was a massive police investigation, but in a case like this, that doesn’t mean much, nor does the media coverage. The media in particular salivated over the potential for splashy crime stories, and the circumstances of this case have been complicated by contemporary coverage. Several days after Siegel’s death, for example, one newspaper ran the headline “BUGSY'S BLONDE EX-WIFE GIVES CLUES TO HIS KILLERS,” while another read “BUGSY'S EX NO AID IN HUNT.” As far as the most popular theories:
A Mob hit: A mob hit seems like the most obvious cause, and it's a theory that’s been popularized by several novels and the 1991 movie Bugsy. It would certainly make sense; it was the mob’s money Siegel had been spending wildly on his unsuccessful hotel after all, and he’d been growing uncooperative. Of the proposed hitmen, the most often mentioned are Frankie Carbo (Ralph Natale, former Philadelphia boss and Mob squealer, claimed Carbo as the true killer) and Eddie Cannizarro, both Syndicate hitmen. But even here, there are several proposed reasons for the hit. As some have it, mob money from the Flamingo’s funding was going missing and Siegel was skimming off the already meager profits. Skimming could have been forgiven, if the Flamingo was a success. It was not. After a meeting of the Syndicate’s “Board of Directors,” it was allegedly decided that Siegel would die, with Lansky reluctantly agreeing. Others believe that a hit might have been ordered whether Siegel was skimming or not; the Flamingo was simply too expensive. As one historian put it, “Bugsy was a dreamer. And he was dreaming with other people’s money.”
Yet many have also argued against this theory. According to one of Siegel’s emissaries in Vegas, for example, no one would have dared to order a hit on Siegel. He and Lansky were close until the end of their lives, and Lansky would never have agreed to it. And if Lansky would not agree, then Charles “Lucky” Luciano, who was “the head of everything,” would never have agreed either. And as others have argued, the method of execution (NSFW) didn’t match with typical mob methods; firing a weapon from outside a house increased the risk of missing as well as the risk of being seen. The preferred method was a clean shot to the back of the head. According to some, the oft-referenced money problems of the Flamingo also wasn’t an issue. At the time, Lansky was paying back any investor who wanted out, and the gradual uptick in its profits was quickening by the day. Personally, I don’t think the financial uptick invalidates the theory. If the hotel was starting to make more money, then that might be all the more reason to get rid of the difficult-to-manage Siegel and take over.
Wire Business: At the time of his death, Siegel was embroiled in a dispute with Jack Dragna, dubbed the Capone of Los Angeles. Siegel and Dragna had had an uneasy partnership in previous years, but Dragna, far less powerful than Siegel and the New York gangs, resented the income and respect Siegel commanded. This came to a head when a racing wire service (a way of cheating on bets) between the two of them soured. Siegel wanted control for himself, and ordered Dragna to turn it over or be killed, to which Dragna agreed. After Siegel’s death, control was returned to Dragna. He had a motive, but his story would only have been one among many for a man as ruthless as Siegel, which, in a way, complicates things further—there’s a real possibility that the culprit in Siegel’s murder was someone never even considered. His list of enemies was long, varied, and probably mostly unknown. Yet another man who had reason to want Siegel dead, for example, was his bodyguard and muscle Mickey Cohen. A Cleveland gangster, Cohen was given control of the Syndicate’s West Coast gambling operations. If Siegel still lived, he would never have gotten it. Interestingly, he, like Al Capone before him, was eventually felled by tax evasion.
Virginia and/or brother: The same emissary of Siegel who shot down the mob hit theory believed that Virginia Hill’s brother had carried out the murder. The brother, a marine stationed at Camp Pendleton named Bob or Bill, had seen Siegel and Virginia fighting outside the Flamingo as well as the bruises Siegel had left on her and threatened to kill him. Another of Virginia’s brothers, Chuck, was also at the Beverly Hills house when Siegel was murdered.
Virginia herself has also been the subject of suspicion. Nicknamed the “Queen of the Mob,” Hill worked, among other powerful jobs, as a cash courier, laundering money and stolen goods as well as blackmailing high-ranking men through sexual liaisons. Her relationship with Siegel was tempestuous at best, and she may have been embezzling from the Flamingo. She’s also been accused of two-timing with rival mob operations, though this is unconfirmed. Eventually fleeing to Europe permanently, Hill died of an overdose in 1966, though some have alleged that she was actually murdered after she, completely broke, attempted to leverage her intimate knowledge of the Mob.
Rival Mobs: Unfortunately, I can’t find much concrete information about this theory (note: story of my life researching these posts haha), but some believe that rival mob operatives wanted Siegel gone. He was a powerful—and very public—figure, which made him something of an obvious target in the cut-throat world of Mafia politics.
Moe Sedway: This is a relatively new theory, emerging after Robbie Sedway was interviewed for LA Magazine after his mother’s death. Here, he alleged that Siegel’s murder was ordered by his mother Bee, the wife of powerful mobster—and childhood friend of Siegel’s—Moe Sedway. According to Bee, who wrote and scrapped a book proposal called Bugsy's Little Lunatic (Siegel’s nickname for her), Siegel had threatened her husband, who was the Flamingo’s numbers man, and therefore watching Siegel—who, remember, had been accused of skimming—closely. So Bee contacted Mathew “Moose” Pandza, a truck driver whom Bee married after Moe’s death. Moose, the perfect killer, since he had no connection to the Mob, then shot Siegel to death. The problem with this theory, however, is that Bee is the only source; as she herself said, anyone who could contradict her was dead. She also squandered most of the fortune left to her by Moe over the course of her life, and died almost penniless.
All of the above: Some believe that almost all the suspects were involved. Usually, it goes something like this: “Virginia supplied the location and received some reward. Cohen knew Bugsy's schedule for the evening, but happened to not be watching him that night…Dragna ordered the hit, with the approval of Lansky and Luciano.” It’s unlikely, but it certainly has its believers, if only for the convenience of it.
Final Thoughts & Questions:
This case is interesting to me because of the sheer number of suspects. In the end, a mob hit seems the simplest and most likely explanation. But there were so many people with means, motive, and opportunity. So:

• Why was Siegel killed and who killed him? The Syndicate, rival mobs, Virginia Hall, her brother, Mickey Cohen, Jack Dragna, Mathew Pandza (as ordered by Moe and/or Bee Sedway), several of the suspects, or someone else entirely?

Sources:
https://www.lamag.com/longform/mobster-murder-moll-secret/
https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/americanexperience/features/lasvegas-bugsy/
https://themobmuseum.org/blog/killed-benjamin-bugsy-siegel/
https://unsolvedmysteries.fandom.com/wiki/Bugsy_Siegel
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bugsy_Siegel
https://themobmuseum.org/blog/virginia-hill-queen-of-the-mob-was-no-ones-pushove
To many, Siegel’s legacy exceeds his mob connections, and in some ways, even his death; without him, many believe, there would be no Vegas. So if you take anything away from this write-up, let it be this: The Blue Man group’s Vegas residency is Bugsy Siegel’s fault.

1What retiring early is like

It's fucking great.
I wake up happy, I do pretty much whatever I want during the day, I go to sleep happy.
I indulge my limited passions and hobbies, I plunge down fascinating rabbit holes of knowledge, I bugger off to places for months at a time (harder with Brexit, you xenophobic malcontents), I spend time with people I want to. I feel smug.
I don't have an alarm waking me up, I don't need to take any shit off anyone, I don't burn 90 mins a day on a loud bus screeching stop announcements at 90db in my ear.
In the summer I sometimes pop over to the local greenery, have a pint and meal, read a book, soak up the sun. Great stuff.
My phone is always on silent. It can wait.
People occasionally ask me “what I do all day”. If your imagination is so limited, living in such an incredible time, with so much at your fingertips, that the question even crosses your mind, then carry on working and bitching about it, you don't know how to be happy.
“Scipio used to say that he was never less idle than when he had nothing to do “ - Cicero, On Duties.

2How to get there

2.1Difficulty modes

2.1.1Easy mode: Get free university education, get a good job, buy a cheap house

Not too difficult if you were born in 1972. Easy mode is now disabled in the UK. Maybe available in foreign versions of the game, such as in Greece or Denmark.

2.1.2Medium mode: Don't have kids

I swear to god, I have been pretty lucky not to accidentally father a crotch goblin, and believe me, little Goocho often vetoed my brain. Use contraceptives. Notice how all the shit hole countries don't give women control over their reproduction.
If I had foolishly crapped out a kid, I would have had to work another 10 years at least I reckon. Ugh.
Borrow kids to play with them, and return when they start crying.

2.1.3Hard mode: Have kids

Look, if you are spending 100k or whatever to raise a kid I don't know what to tell you, at least you got laid eh?
I hope you enjoy working like I didn't. Seriously, if you have a job you like, great stuff, things will be much easier for you. The impetus to leave it won't be so great. The point of all this is to be happy after all!

2.2Control your costs

Filling your house full of nonsense is consumerism at it's worst.
I practice a kind of minimalism. So I don't own a freezer, a cooker or a dish washing machine. Guess what? They will never need repairing or replacing! But I do own an amazing OLED tv, a solid speaker system, loads of films and books. Minimalism is a whole other subject, and attracts the mentally ill who take it to extremes. Spend money on a decent mattress you fools.
Subscriptions are death by a thousand cuts, and will weigh you down. However Netflix and Amazon Prime are great. Shades of grey.
Screw charities, charity workers get paid salaries and you are supposed to give for free? Nope. Begging scum. “it is only the price of a coffee”, bitch please, I pay 10p a cup for my lovely coffee.
Pay your taxes. Don't be a leech on society.
Live in a small house.
Aldi is great.
If you don't get married, you can't get ruinously divorced, .
Insurance is generally a scam, if you are drunkenly fucking up so regularly than you need your phone insured, sort your life out.
You really need that car? Hmmm. If you are driving to the supermarket and paying for the gym, you are an idiot. Those two cancel each other out.
Only unhappy people play the lottery.
Buy a decent phone for £200, pay £5 a month for service. You think iFruit users will look down upon you? Comparison is the thief of joy.
DIY accomplishments are mentally rewarding, great exercise and cheap – or you can throw money at a problem to make it go away, this is the point of money after all, we sell and buy time with it. Before I buy anything big, I ask myself, is this worth x days sitting in an office for​?
Spend your money how you like, I am not your mum.
Enjoy what you have.

2.3Plan a little

Write down (don't guess) how much you spend a month over a couple of years.
For investments, assume inflation cancels out general increase in non distributing equity value. This is all a rough guessing game anyway, don't pretend it isn't.
I think there are two ways to look at when you can stop working:

2.3.1Cash drawdown per month until death

If you assume you are going to die around 85 (actuarial tables available online), divide your cash + private pension wealth + state pension amount will pay you until age 85 by the number of months left to live, this tells you how much you can spend a month before you die. Sounds like enough? Investment appreciation means you might have more than that.

2.3.2Cash dividends per month

You have a lumpsum of wealth. Flexible uk pension rules means you no longer need to take the annuity gamble. 4% returns a year seems conservatively doable. Can you live on that? Means you die with a load of cash. Stash it in your silk lined coffin.

2.4Play it safe, but not too safe

Assume laws and taxes will change. Don't count too much on that state pension.
If the NHS falls ill itself, you might need some cash to go private. Good luck getting that hip surgery in the next 12 months post covid!
If the stock market takes a 10% dump, you must still sleep soundly. Don't live too close to the edge.
Assume and hope your parents will spend all their wealth on themselves, having a happy end of life in an old folks home. Points off as a human being for relying on your parent snuffing it for free money.
What if your body conks out and you start shitting yourself and have to pay 4k a month to be served Dickensian gruel in a nursing home? Trust in the societal safety net? Work another 5 years just in case? Keep a cyanide pill by the bed? Sell your house I guess? I'm rolling the dice on this one. Maybe dancing in VR and these 50 degree Victorian terrace stairs will keep me fit (or kill me).

2.5Personal Story

Went to Uni, got a Computering degree, got a job I liked, autistic-ally worked at it, got paid lots of money, bought a house at 26 for 48k, parents threw in 10k to get rid of me, paid off the mortgage in 30 months.
After 8 years in said job, started to dislike it, took 6 months off work. Worked another 2 years before I got made redundant, 15k for doing nothing? Yes please!
Worked about half the time from age 32 to 46 as Contractor scum, in jobs I generally disliked or eventually hated. Had 2-3 years between jobs. Snatching retirement chunks from the future. I figured, why leave retirement until I am too old to enjoy it? Took around 3 months to get a new job each time, I didn't care, I loved not working!
Played casino blackjack for a couple of years for ~8 hours a week, made £12k. Shuffling machines have stopped all that now, was bored of it anyway.
Decided at 40 I had better get a pension, threw money at it when working.
So at 46, when I walked out on the pathetic management at my last gig (FIS Birmingham, you see when you are retired, you really don't have to give a shit!), I had worked for a total of ~15 years, thoroughly enjoyed not working and was sick of working.
At 47 I realised maybe I don't actually need another job? Started paying real attention to my finances.
At 48, I have 110k cash & 140k pension = 250k. 4% a year dividends = 10k a year. I can live happily on that.
£800 a month is enough. I spent £350 a month in December and January, had a great time. Will get a PS5 when available, boiler is bound to break eventually. It all evens out.
My state pension fortells a sickly £117 per week. Meh. Forgive me for not factoring that in too much. Who knows where I will be in 20 years? Hopefully sleeping in late without an alarm clock.

Continuing… (It's Part 6 in the saga, I fucked up. Sorry.)
So, after a few re-fueling and impromptu cigar-purchasing stops in South and Central America, we wheel up to the deserted jetway at LAX.
“Thought we were going to Elmendorf?” I asked.
“This isn’t it?” the pilot replied, feigning worry.
“No.”, I replied, “Looks like California. Fruits and nuts. All around. What’s going on? One minute we’re off to Texas, then Cali, then Texas again, now we end up here at the California airport of the iconic tower.”
“Yeah, it’s confusing enough haulin’ civilians around. But when we get a call from Virginia, we tend to comply without any questions,” the pilot explains.
“Aw, shit!”, I sort of exclaim, “Rack and Ruin called?”
“Yeah”, the pilot replies, “Figures you’d know these guys. They said they were closer to LAX rather than Texas and had us divert here. In fact, you look over there, see that dark blue Chevy? That’s them; and evidently, your ride.”
I tipped the airman from earlier a couple of cigars as he helped me with my gear off the plane and into the trunk of Rack and Ruin’s plain-Jane blue late modeled Chevy. Had to move the Sidewinder Missiles off to one side, though.
“Most honorable Agents Lack and Luin!” I quipped in my faux-racist greeting. “What the hell, guys? I’ve got to get to Japan and get some newly rigidified digits.”
“Let’s see your hand”, Agent Rack asks. “Nasty.”
“Yeah”, I sigh “And with the medicos in South America and their penchant for plaster, I don’t so much have a left hand as more of an ankylosaur tail.”
“Or Thagomizer”, Agent Ruin tittered. “Anyone gives you grief, and one upside the head should set them right. Or dead.”
“You’re a riot, Ruin.” I replied, “But not entirely incorrect.”
We all agreed that I really didn’t need any extra accouterments to make myself look more dangerous. I mean with my severe haircut, stern beard clip, and perpetual ‘Go fuck yourself’ scowl.
“Yeah”, I replied, stroking the aforementioned beard, “I just can’t get that. I’m such a people person.”
After Agents Rack and Ruin finished drying their eyes from laughing what I thought was en extremis, we finally got down to business.
“So, what’s the skinny, guys”, I asked. “New marching orders?”
“No. Not as such”, Agent Ruin said, still sniggering over my ‘people person’ comment.
I see we’re moving. Agent Rack is just driving casually, like Chewbacca when they were waiting to see if the Empire went for that expensive Bothan code.
“Then, what?” I asked, getting a slight bit piqued.
“Well”, Agent Ruin noted, “When you went to South America, you took some of your artillery collection with, correct?”
“You know I did. You even made some snide comments about my personal choice of sidearms and their ‘excessive’ calibers, if memory serves”, I reiterated.
“And if you are proceeding normally, as you always do, they’re all nestled in the trunk of this very car. All cleaned, quiet, unloaded, and smelling sweetly of Hoppe’s Number 9 and WD 40, correct?” Rack inquired.
“Yes?” I cautiously venture.
“Well, ya’ big dummy, do you think they’re going to let you saunter into Tokyo armed like the Third Fleet?” Agent Ruin chuckled.
“Um…well…I do have a Diplomatic Passport.” I ventured.
“That’s not going to work this time.”, Agent Ruin said, shaking his head. “They’re tighter than Dick’s Hatband about sidearms. Want to bring in your Rigby SXS .500 Nitro Express double rifle? Not a problem. Sidearms, especially in your alien hunting calibers, nope.”
Well, that’s just….*dandy!”, I reply, semi-put out. “Now what the hell am I going to do?”
“Ever think that’s why Ruin and I are here, now?”, Rack asks.
“And here I thought it was just so you could bask in the warm glow of my fucking wonderful personality. Or that you actually cared about me as a real goddamn human”, I joshed.
“Ummm…yeah”, Rack replies, “There’s no way we can answer that without going on some Deadpool list. “
I agreed.
“OK, here’s the deal: you get your sidearms, ammunition, speed loaders, brass knuckles, Asp, laser range finders, Sap, Zeiss scopes, Kukri, Wisconsin Cheese Whittler, Buck folding skinner, Marine K-Bar, those two ultra-illegal Cheburkov Cobra titanium switchblades...”
“Three. Olga the KGB lady sent me one for Geologist’s Day.”
“Ahem. Those three ultra-illegal Cheburkov switchblades, that Wyoming Speedholer, your MASER Time-Distance Computer, garrote, pocket rail gun and whatever else lethal you carry and deposit it in the iron box in the trunk. We’ll ensure that it’s delivered to Esme post-haste. And by post-haste I mean one of our guys will deliver it personally.”
“Well…I suppose”, I conceded, “But best send someone who’s been to the house recently. I don’t know how much bigger Khan has grown since I left on this little fantasy trip. Wouldn’t want a star on the wall in Langley for someone eaten by a mastiff. Want to see a picture….Oh, bother. That’s right. My phone’s at the bottom of fucking Lake Maracaibo.”
“Good point”, Ruin interjects, “Guess we’ll do a little road trip and deliver it ourselves. Best call Esme and let her know what’s going on.”
“I have no objections to your proposals. Please give Esme this when you see her. I had some luck in the Calaveras Casino and if I don’t send her some mad money. Ouch. She’ll never forgive me for not taking her along to Japan.” I asked.
“But I thought Esme hated Japan? Too crowded and too ‘fussy’, I believe was her estimation.” Ruin asked.
“Yes, but once she saw the Ginza, all bets were off. Shopping the likes of which even Allah himself hasn’t seen.” I replied, slowly shaking my head.
“I see”, Ruin said, “Well, since you’re off to Sapporo, perhaps you can do a recon for Esme on the shopping there.”
“Not bad. Not bad at all.”, I smiled, “Now I know why I let you guys hang around with me.”
So, as advertised, I am now standing on the tarmac at LAX, basically feeling naked.
“Can’t I keep just one switchblade?” I moaned to Agent Rack.
“Go ahead, if you’re really keen on donating it to Japanese customs”, he replied.
“Fuckbuckets.” I groused.
“There, there now. That’s the usual Dr. Rocknocker of which we’re all so fond.” Agent Ruin chuckled.
“Remember, you do have that wallet-sized credit card gizmo from the Company. So you’re not entirely ‘naked’. Think of it as an emergency breechcloth.” He smiled.
“I’d like a larger model if you don’t mind. It’s chilly out here.” I joshed.
After Agents Rack and Ruin stripped me metaphorically naked as they de-weaponized me, they handed me a Business Class ticket to Tokyo, and a pass to the Japan Airlines Hospitality Suite and Lounge.
“So sorry you guys can’t hang around and have a few farewell snorts”, I chided, “But you’ve got a bit of a drive, so best be off before the weather turns to shit.”
“Who says we’re driving?” Agent Rack asked as he hooked a thumb over his shoulder at the ready and waiting C-130 cargo plane currently taxiing slowly in our direction.
“Well, in that case”, I smiled even more broadly, “Let’s invite the flight crew to join us. That’ll make the flight home all that much more interesting.”
After near tear-jerking farewell sentimentalities, i.e., “Piss on you”, “Get stuffed” and “Take a fuckin’ hike”; Agents Rack and Ruin, my weapons and the Agency’s plain-Jane Blue Chevy were all nestled snugger than buggers in ruggers in the belly of the thundering C-130.
Now truly on my own, I trudge the hundred thousand or so centisteps to my departure terminal, make a quick recon that my flight’s still slated to go in a generally westward direction, and hightail it to the nearest courtesy desk to ask for a motorized cart to take me and my remaining luggage to the JAL Hospitality Suite.
Hey. I’m old, infirm, and currently among the walking wounded.
Anyone that disagrees risks an Ankylosaur tail club swat or Thagomizer to the skull.
Finally ensconced in the JAL Hospitality Suite, Polo Lounge of course; I was drinking Tokyo Teas (3 oz. vodka, 2 oz. gin, 2 oz. rum, 1 oz. triple sec, 1 oz. Midori, good splash of lime juice, a slight splash of 7-Up (diet, of course), over ice with a lime wheel) with Pabst Blue Ribbon Extra 1844 chasers and Hangar One’s “Fog Point” vodka on the side, hiding from the brutish realities of this foul year of two thousand and twenty-something, Common Era…
I’ve already called Esme and we’ve had a good, long chat. She still managed to give me her shopping list for whenever I find myself bored on the Ginza.
She’ll be shocked when she learns that I’m not going to be in Tokyo long, but have 1st class tickets on the Bullet Train to Sapporo. Still, I’ll probably find myself in Pole Town or the Stellar Place there, trading piles of US greenbacks for locally produced Japanese curios and clothing.
I can hardly wait.
I order another round of drinks, as the wonderful attendants in the Hospitality Suite were bored out of their skulls because of the COVID-induced drop-in customers flying anywhere that requires a hospitality room stay, and I was virtually the only one around. They tried their level best to outdo each other when it comes to Japanese efficiency and friendliness.
After a couple of hours, they ask if I would like something from the grill, as the day chef had “the COVID” and the night chef just arrived. A quick perusal of the menu and I chose a 28-ounce dry-aged Porterhouse and another round of drinks.
I usually don’t like to eat too much before I fly, but JAL tells me the flight is going to be virtually empty, something like <121 pax, all told, so restroom availability shouldn’t be too much of a concern.
Plus, who am I to say no to a free, blue 28-ounce dry-aged Porterhouse?
There was a bit of difficulty conveying to the chef through the intermediaries of the hospitality just how I wanted my steak.
“Blue,” I said.
“Brue?” was the reply.
“Rare. Very, very rare.” I continued.
Look of total bewilderment.
I drag out my Personal Language Pro, speak “Steak, very, very rate” into the infernal gizmo, and hand the contraption to the attendant.
“珍しい、非常に珍しいステーキ?”[ Mezurashī, hijō ni mezurashī sutēki?]
“Raw! Nama!” I say, louder than need be.
They toddle off to find the chef.
“How is it sir, that you would like your steak cooked?” he asks.
“Very rare. Just a minute or two per side. Inside still cold.” I instructed.
All I got for the trouble was a puzzled smile.
“Give me the language gizmo…” I type in a few words…
“お尻を洗い、角をノックオフして、ここから出してください”
[O shiri o arai,-kaku o nokkuofu shite, koko kara dashite kudasai.]
“Wash its ass, knock its horns off, and walk it out here.”
“OH!” as the lightbulb pops. “Rare. Got it! Excellent!” the chef laughs and zips back to the kitchen.
Like I always say, I’m nothing if not the international ambassador of amity and goodwill.
“Crack tubes!”
Dinner was fantastic. I do wish I could have somehow mailed the Porterhouse bone back home for Khan. After that hambone incident, he might even taste it.
Finally on the plane, in an almost empty Business Class, the flight captain informs us that we’re headed to Haneda Airport Tokyo and anyone not headed in that direction better ‘haul ass off’ the flight or forever hold their peace.
Late-night international flights tend to be a bit more wooly than your average Chicago to Omaha gig.
Especially when the flight’s damn near empty and we have the next 12 hours or so to be best friends.
We taxi, turn and head into the wind. I’m doctoring up a couple of dossiers and keeping my personal cabin attendant, Luna since there were two of us in Business and two business flight attendants, busy with her trying to play ‘Stump the Geologist’.
“I’ll bet you never had this before.” She beamed and handed me a tumbler of very dangerous-looking brown liquor.
I cautiously sniff, take a modest gulp, swirl and glug the rest down.
“Ohishi Single Sherry Cask”, I say with a muffled belch. “Light. Fruity. An Englishman’s drink.”
“Oh. You knew. Let me try again.” She smiles beatifically.
“I have no objections to your proposal.” I smile as nicely as this crotchety old Komodo Dragon could.
She returns with another flagon of spirits; it smells of obsidian, leather, and earth.
I just had some of this back in LAX. I take a snort, smile, and shotgun the rest.
“Hibiki Japanese Harmony…lovely stuff.” I smile. “A little light for my jaded palate, but I’d never turn it down if it were free.”
“Oh, you win again. Wait. One more.” She smiles and skitters off to the galley.
She returns with another soupçon of some more dangerous brown liquor.
“Here, try this. It will make you very popular at social gatherings”. She smiles.
Sniff. “Splendid.” Snort. Swirl. Smile. Shotgun.
“Kanosuke New Born, if I’m not mistaken.” I smile back. “Very nice. I really do like this one.”
“You too good at this. One more!” she stands and stomps off defiantly. She returns in a trice and hands me the glass.
“Hmm…brown. Light notes of earth, leather, dating your daughter, and Kentucky…
“Beam Suntory, right?”
“You know them all!” she says, feigning irritation.
“And I thank you. Those were all excellent. Now, anything in the dangerous clear liquor category? I asked.
Luna smiled as I palmed off a 20k yen tip.
“Oh, no sir. Wait until we land.” She demurred, referring to the gratuity; which is know is not de rigueur in the Orient, but she didn’t seem to mind.
“Just in case we never make it to Tokyo”, I laughed, unknowingly presciently.
We both chuckled about that last line as she tried out various sakes and shōchūs and an actual Japanese ‘White Liquor’ (ホワイトリカー), which were all excellent as was the company.
I tell her that I need to get some work done and could she bring me a tall Rocknocker. After explain the origins and construction of the eponymous drink, she brings me one that must tip the scales at 1 or so liters.
She settles down to an empty seat and I get after the work that I need to finish before we land. I’m about ½ way through my drink when it felt as if the plane hit a brick wall. She quivered and quaked and clutched at herself while I made some comments about the pilot’s mental health.
We dropped like a paralyzed falcon, then just as suddenly, felt like it was an express elevator to Angel’s 11. The plane bucked and shimmied, wickedly. Then we slam-danced right and fell a few more stories. It was like we were in a Mixmaster and the owner was trying out every speed.
The emergency lights in the 777-300ER popped on, and the fasten seat belt sign barked loudly so even sleeping travelers could enjoy the show.
Rinse. Spin. Shudder. Repeat.
Finally, the ride smooths out and we hear the captain on the blower.
“This is your captain speaking…ah, we seem to have hit some uncharted turbulence back there.”
“Thanks, Captain Obvious”, I muttered.
“Everything’s A-OK. “ he reports.
“That’s good”, I note.
“But…”
“There’s always the but…” I groan.
“…we have a couple of warning lights for which we can’t quite account. So to just be safe and certain, we’re going to divert to Hawaii, get a clean bill of health and resume this flight once we make sure everything here is hunky-dory.”
There were scattered groans and applause. Add them together and divide by two and the average response on the flight was “Meh. Whatever.”
Except for the other guy in Business, with whom I hadn’t shared two words. He began to absolutely lose his shit.
“Oh, man! We’re so screwed! Mechanical malfunction? What does that mean?” he positively fizzed with fear.
The flight attendants tried to calm him down, to no avail. They basically gave up and said they’d report his misgivings to the Captain.
I motioned over to my personal flight attendant, Luna, and asked if I could be of service.
“Oh, Doctor Rock”, she smiled at me, “If you could speak with him. You are so calm, and he is…”
“Losing his bloody mind”, I chuckled as I finished her sentence for her. “Of course, I’ll take a stab at it.”
So, I grab my drink and ease over to my Business Class partner and introduce myself.
“Hey, pal. How’s it going? I’m Dr. Rock, gentleman, scholar, and connoisseur of cigars and things alcoholic. You doing OK?”
He looks at me with an ashen face and his eyes the size of bloodshot dinner plates.
“Yeah. I’m Todd Schotts. I’m flying to Japan for business.” He mumbles
“No surprise there,” I reply calmly and take a slug of my drink.
“But now we’re all going to die. The plane is busted and we’ll crash…” he started off again.
“So, Todd is it? Good. You drink?” I asked.
“Yeah?”, he stammered back.
I asked Luna to make us a fresh batch of my eponymous cocktails.
“OK, Todd, listen up”, I began after the drinks were served, “I have flown literally millions of miles over the last 4 decades. On Aeroflot when it was still the USSR. On TACA (Take A Chance Airways), on Chalk’s in the Caribbean, on Bob’s Verrifast Plane Company in Rhodesia, on regional carriers that don’t even exist anymore. All over the world. Had some bad experiences flying, and me ol’ mugger, this ain’t one of them. This is nothing more than the glitch for this mission.”
I chuckled lightly and complimented Luna on a fantastic drink.
“Yeah…yeah…yeah…but we have to land and check out some lights…” Todd squealed.
“Well now, Todd. It would be rather difficult to do any external assessment while in flight, don’t you agree?” I asked.
“But we’re diverting. We have to land and that adds more risk. We’re going to crash and die!” he was coming more and more unglued.
“I will bet you every cent you have on your person and home bank accounts that that will not happen”, I chuckled.
That took him by surprise. At least it shut him up for a while.
“Look, Todd. This is Boeing’s latest model. They have the most incredible safety record. And if a little clear air turbulence were to be knocking planes out of the sky, don’t you think we’d hear about it as the press went berserk?” I asked.
“But they don’t know what the lights mean! What if one of the engines’s out? How far can we fly on one engine?” Todd stuttered.
Having my fill of a supposedly grown man with inane childlike fears, I calmly replied,
“All the way to the crash site.”
He went white.
“...hope we hit something hard. I don’t want to limp away from this.”
He went limp.
Then I went to my seat and motioned for Luna to prepare a reload.
Of course, 45 minutes later, we land without incident at Daniel K. Inouye International Airport, Honolulu Hawaii.
We were told to just wait around until they figure out what the problem if any, was.
They had officials waiting at the end of the jetway to check our COVID status and passports before they let us loose in the terminal.
I asked Luna if she knew this airport. She noted that she did.
“Is there a JAL hospitality room here at this airport? I asked.
“Yes, Doctor. It’s the Sakura Lounge. It is located on the third level above The Local, Terminal 2.” She replied.
“Please notify whoever needs to know that that’s where I’ll be for the duration”, I smiled and handed her my business card. “See you soon, I hope.”
“Oh, Dr. Rock”, she replied, “I am sure it is nothing much. We’ll be back in the air within mere hours.”
“Well then”, I smiled, “Guess I’d better get ready to hoof it to the lounge.”
“Oh, Doctor Rock”, she smiled, “No rush. I will call for you a courtesy cart. You are injured, you are Business, you are priority.”
“I love that Asian efficiency.” I smiled back and toddled down the jetway.
At the terminus of the jetway, I show my COVID-clear papers, dates and times of my Anti-Virus vaccine administrations, the letter from Virginia clearing me of all detention, and my red Russian diplomatic passport.
While in the cart, whizzing our way to the JAL lounge, the driver said “Man! You must be some kind of VIP. You were through that welcoming committee in less than two minutes!”
“Me? Nah!”, I chuckled, “Just an old phart of a geologist that they didn’t want to mess with. Not on such a bright, sunny day as this.”
“I see you’re not wearing a mask.” The driver quipped.
“Very observant. There are reasons for that.” I replied.
He careens around a corner and if this were a normal pre-Covid day, I’m certain we’d have killed hundreds. However, the airport, as I’ve come to grow accustomed to, was virtually deserted.
“Yeah? Like what?” he asks.
“Well, Scooter, 1. I have an active and hardworking immune system that I let off the chain every once in a while for exercise. Got to let it know what it’s up against, right? 2. I’ve had all my shots and some that were experimental. They seem to have worked. And 3. I find it difficult to drink and smoke cigars while wearing a mask. However, if you’d prefer, I will mask up. No problem, though it still is optional.”
“Nah, man”, he said, “I was just wondering if you were one of those religious idiots or conspiracy nuts.”
Nope”, I smiled back, “Just another geologist out in the world plying his trade for cash. Y’know, whorin’ around for money.”
He laughs aloud as we skid to a stop right in front of Lounge.
I slip the guy a $20 and ask if he’d listen for the JAL flight I was just on. If we’re going on ahead today, I’d need him to scoot by and putt-putt me back to the plane.
He laughs and pockets the $20 as quick as a mink ruts.
“No worries. I’ll just hang around this area. I hear anything about the flight, I’ll come and let you know.” He grins.
“Good man”, I say, as I hand him my card. “I’m Dr. Rocknocker. Call me Rock”.
“And I’m Kapula Mano, call me Kap” he replies.
“Good man”, I say again, “Hope to see you in a while.”
He grins, floors his electric cart, and peels out at speeds approaching 4.5 MPH.
I wander into the lounge, show my credentials, and am escorted to a post up on Mahogany Ridge.
The bar is very quiet. Besides the bartender, I can’t see anyone else in the darkened and Smooth Jazz-infused drinking emporium.
I order a local drink, a Mai Tai, just for the experience and something a bit different.
It’s served in a goldfish bowl on a stem, bedecked with a slice of lime, a sprig of mint, a stick of sugar cane, a polychromatic orchid, and the obligate paper umbrella.
“Ah. Mai Tai. I will enjoy it.” I said to no one in particular.
One was enough, and I decided to go back to the old standard. Once I explained to the bartender what that was, he made them heroic and enthusiastically.
I’m reading up on a random dossier, making notes in a new file, and puffing away on a Fuentes Onyx double Maduro Churchill cigar.
I hear a slight cough coming from my right, and this here lovely lady, she sat to my immediate starboard and looked at me semi-quizzically.
Not in the mood for shenanigans of any stripe, I give her the obligate Baja Canada nod and tilt of the drink. I return to my dossiers and continue to read and take notes.
“Excuse me!” I hear.
Fearing the worst, either the woman is Karen-oid anti-smoking or a religious fruit-and-nutburger, I slowly turn to face her and reply, somewhat glacially, I have to admit.
“What?”
“That cigar…”
“Here we go…” I mutter, eyes rolling northward.
“Smells exquisite. Could you tell me the brand? My husband would enjoy some like that.” She notes.
Instantly my demeanor switches 180^0.
“Yes, ma’am. It’s an Arturo Fuentes Onyx. Churchill size, or 60 ring x 7” length, double Maduro. Here, take one for your husband. I have an ample supply.” I smile.
“Oh, no. I couldn’t. Could I?” she asks.
“Please. I insist.” I smile the best I could given the circumstances.
“Thank you. You’re too kind…umm…Mr….?”
“Doctor. Doctor Rocknocker. World traveler, oilman, and international ambassador of amity, good drinks, and fine cigars. Call me Rock” I said.
“Oh! A Doctor?” she brightens.
“Yes, of Petroleum Geology and Engineering. Not medicine.” I chuckle.
She chuckles back.
“And I am Hella Aaberg”, as she offers her hand for a quick shake.
“Interesting name, Hella. Scandinavian or Old German heritage?” I ask.
“On my father’s side. He’s Finnish.” She replies.
“But I’ll wager your mother is not Scandinavian, correct?” I ask.
“She was from Truk, an island…”
“In the South Pacific, Micronesia. Was she from Weno city?” I asked.
“Why yes. How could you possibly know that?” she asked.
“Oh, I’ve been there. Great diving amongst the WWII wrecks. I think it’s actually called ‘Chuuk Lagoon’ or something like that now.” I said.
“That’s right! Amazing. Where else have you been?” she asked.
“Anywhere there’s oil, strife, booze, cigars, heavy explosives and typically long distances from whatever most normal people call civilization,” I replied with a chuckle.
Suddenly, I hear a voice booming out behind me.
“Why don’t you save that rapier-like wit for those musky-fuckers back home, Rocko?”
My expression changes. My eyes pop fully wide open.
“Hella?” I asked.
“Yes?”
“May I ask you a favor?”
“You can ask…”
“Thank you. Now, looking over my shoulder, is there a hulking goon of a person, thin up top, paunchy halfway down with the most ridiculously tiny sized shoes you’ve ever seen for a so-called grown man?” I ask.
“Yes. Yes, there is.” She replies.
“I thought so. Many thanks.”
I spin and launch off my barstool and grab Toivo by the hand. He hadn’t seen my left-hand Thagomizer yet.
“Toivo! You old sumbitch. What the flying fennec fox fuck are you, of all people, doing in Hawaii?” I laughed.
“Just keeping an eye on you, Rock!” he laughed equally as loud.
“No, fucking-A, seriously. What the actual fuck? What are you doing in this actual nice place?” I asked.
“Just headed to Tokyo to conduct a bit of service company business. I walked into the lounge and smelled a foul cigar. I figured it can’t be the venerable Dr. Rocknocker. He’s back at some school up north terrorizing geology and engineering grads and undergrads.” Toivo laughed.
“But there I was. Surprise!”, I laughed and pumped his hand.
“What the fuck, Rock. Now what did you do?” he asks, referring to my Ankylosaur tail club left hand.
“Ah, fuck. Long story. Oh, pardon me. Toivo, this is Hella. We were just talking about the South Seas Islands.” I said.
“Planning on running off together?” Toivo laughs, to the amusement of neither party.
“Oh, and this idiot is Toivo, a man with a congenital foot-in-mouth disorder. He’s mostly harmless.” I noted to Hella.
Greetings were shared all around. Hella made some small excuses and said she needed to depart. I gave her another cigar for her husband, shook her hand, and wished her well.
“Here’s my business card. If your husband has any questions, have him drop me a line.” I noted.
Hella smiled beautifully. She said she would. Then she thanked me shook our hands, and like that, there she was, gone.
“Well Toivo, you old bastard. Don't just stand there in the doorway like some lonesome goddamn mouse shit sheepherder, get your ass over here and have a drink.” I motioned over to my perch on Mahogany Ridge.
“Don’t mind if I do”, he says as he deftly winds his way to a seat to my left, snagging a cigar out of my pocket on the way over.
“You might want these”, I say in an exasperated tone, and hand him my gold Dunhill Hobnail lighter and V-cutter gizmo.
He cuts and fires up his heater.
“What you drinkin’, Rock”, he asks.
“Anything with alcohol, as usual. You know that Toiv.” I reply.
“No. I mean right now.” He clarifies.
“Well, I had a Mai Tai. Very nice if you like fruity, flowery drinks. It’s the locals’ favorite.” I reply.
“Sounds good. I’ll have several. And you?” Toivo asks.
“My usual. The bartender is already apprised of the situation.” I reply.
Toivo smiles the smile of one knowing his sobriety is going to be taken out for a swim. Hell, taken out and tossed into the deep end.
Toivo and I sit there, swapping lies, smoking cigars and sipping at our toddies.
Hell, Toivo was slurping them like a sump-pump during an extra-wet summer.
We chattered about family, work, whether or not Tokyo was going to host the Olympics or if the COVID-boogie man scared everyone off.
Toivo, always one afflicted with TB (“Tiny Bladder”) got up to go to the loo for the third time that hour. He left his pocket organizer on the bar and I swear on a stack of Origins of Species, I didn’t touch it.
I reached over to his vacated seat to retrieve my cigar lighter when I looked down and saw in his organizer a tab that reads “Rack & Ruin”.
“Oh. No. Fucking. Way.” I recoiled as I’d just reached out and petted a 6-foot hungover scorpion.
“One of my best friends? Secretly allied with the Agency? No. Not possible.” I drained my drink and called for another.
“No. No. No. It can’t be. No. No fucking way…” as doubt began to dissolve when I thought back to all those times I had just ‘run into’ Toivo.
“But he’s oil patch as well. That could be chalked up to coincidence.” I ruminated quizzically in my brain.
I quickly reflected back on J.M. Darhower: “Yes, you see, there’s no such thing as coincidence. There are no accidents in life. Everything that happens is the result of a calculated move that leads us to where we are.”
She may be the author of the execrable New Adult Sempre series, which Esme likes and I loathe, but she might just be right on this occasion.
Toivo return, lighter in the bladder and good sense. He never even noticed he’d left his organizer out in broad bar light for all to see.
“So, Toivo, when’s your flight?” I ask.
“Oh, man. Was I lucky. The JAL flight to Tokyo from Los Angeles had mechanical trouble and had to divert here. I got a ticket on the plane for that flight, when it continues.
“You mean ‘if it continues’,” I replied.
“Yeah. Yeah. That’s what I meant. Hey! Was that your flight?” he asks innocently. He’s really innocent of fieldcraft.
I decide to have some fun at my old friend’s expense.
“Yep. Hit some CAT (Clear Air Turbulence) and the JAL pilots reported some lighting problem. No apparent ruin to any of the systems. They relay racked their brains to figure it out, but they couldn’t that’s why I here.” I said, waiting for the words to swim upstream in Toivo’s coconut and make some sort of connection.
“Yeah. Double lucky. No problem with the plane and I get to go to Japan early.” Toivo crookedly grins.
“So, no trouble with the plane? Then why haven’t I heard that the flight’s going to resume?” I asked as I pushed a fresh, seriously strong drink to Toivo.
“Oh, must have heard it in the john.” Toivo countered and tried to cover his tracks by taking a huge gulp of his drink and damn near dying coughing.
I pound on Toivo’s back.
“Heimlich time?” I ask.
Toivo signals ‘no’.
“Jesus Christ, Rock. What was that?” he asks.
“Just my usual”, I innocently replied.
“Holy fuck. No wonder you have the reputation of…” Toivo realizes too late that he’s said too much.
“Yeah. They can rack you out. Really ruin a person if they’re not careful.” I reply icily.
“Why, Rock. Whatever do you mean?” Toivo slurred as he realized he’s been caught out.
“The jig is up, you turncoat. You know Agents Rack and Ruin from the agency. Right? You keeping tabs on me for them? You Quisling! You Benedict Arnold!” I almost was on the verge of losing my cool.
“It was nothing. They approached me years ago as I kept being mentioned in your reports. They asked me for some information. One thing leads to another…” Toivo was ready for an Ankylosaur tail club swat to the bean.
“Oh, put your fucking hands down, you asshole.” I smiled and chuckled.
“You’re not mad?” Toivo slurred badly. I had the bartender make him another special drink.
“No, Toivo. Not mad. Just disappointed.” I said, smiling like a Komodo Dragon just finishing up a fortnight-old wildebeest.
Toivo sat there and puzzled and puzzled until his puzzler was sore.
“You’re not going to kill me or anything rude like that?” Toivo asked, half-assedly trying to inject humor into the proceedings.
“Nah. The paperwork’s too ridiculous for me to do another liberation. But, Jesus Fucking Christwagons, Toivo; you could have mentioned it to me. Fuck, I thought we were friends to the end?” I said, dejectedly.
I was really getting through to Toivo. I could tell he was loaded; feeling like shit and massively deplorable.
Great fieldcraft, indeed.
I told him things “are what they are” and that I won’t blow his cover nor his honorarium.
He began to feel better. I often wonder if he was serious about the sanctioning thing.
Then I delivered the strategic missile strike.
“Just remember, Toivo. I wrote your dossier for the Company…”
He swivels to look at me.
“And one for the KGB. Olga says ‘howdy’.” I grin evilly.
Toivo short-circuited at that. Russia is his company’s bread and butter. Now he has the KGB as well as his best buddy looking over his shoulder at every move.
I bought him a few more drinks and continued to needle him about his ’leading a double life’. He was well and truly fuckered when the electric tap-tap driver from before came looking for me to whisk me back to the plane.
Seems it was simply some knocked-out wires on the plane, or slammed bulbs that were generating a false positive, indicating something other than the system that alerts one to something haywire went haywire.
Toivo was pretty much down for the count. I got him sober enough to hand them his ticket and ensure that he was really supposed to be on this flight. Thing was; h e was in Economy, and I was, as always, in Business.
I spoke to Luna, and the plane was going to be even less crowded than previously because some folks could or wouldn’t wait, or didn’t want to go on with the rest of the trip on a ‘damaged’ aircraft, or were just stupid and superstitious.
“Luna, could I pay for the difference between Business and Economy for my less than 100% conscious friend here? He’s had a rough day.” I asked.
“Dr. Rock. Just put him into Business. No one will be the wiser. Luna says so.” As she gave us a grand smile.
“Luna, I owe you. Thanks so much.” I said.
“Now get on board. Your friend looks like he needs all the downtime he can get.”
“Yes, ma’am!” I said and saluted here be best I could which dragging a schnozzled Toivo down the jetway.
I dumped Toivo in a window seat well away from my seat. I know Toivo. He snores like a semi-load of live hogs rocketing downhill locking up the brakes at 88 MPH.
Surprise! There was no one else in Business. Luna looked at me, at Toivo, and gave me a thumbs up.
Whatever I can write to further her career at JAL, she’ll have it before I deplane.
We finally get everyone settled, and with Captain Kangaroo at the helm, we bounced gracelessly off the tarmac, into the warm, tropical Hawaiian air, finally headed for the Land of the Rising Sun.
Toivo was snoring like a chainsaw hitting rusty nails as I worked on the various letters, communiques, and dossiers which needed updating before we reached touchdown. I gave Luna a thick letter with instructions not to open it until we were on the ground and Toivo and I were well off and away into the terminal.
We left Hawaii at 1300 hours, so we should arrive at Tokyo Nareda around 4:00 pm, the previous day. I was so bereft of time and time zones, I couldn’t figure out what time it really was, as judged by my biometric rhythms, so I asked Luna for a stiff drink as I was kicking off my boots and going to attempt to get some kip.
She brought me another liter or so eponymous drink. I was sawing logs by the time I slurped the last swig of that nifty drink.
Suddenly, or later, I have no idea really, some loudmouth drunk asshole from way-the-fuck-back in economy-land toward the ass end of the plane staggered into Business demanding free drinks.
Luna was nothing but civil, and asked him to both shut up and return to his seat. His air cabin hostess, or whatever the fuck they’re calling them these days, will attend to his needs.
“Naw they won’t! They want me to pay for more drinks! I’m broke but I demand more booze! You fucking owe me.” railed the asshole. “I sat at the bar in Hawaii for four hours. Them fuckers charged me an arm and a leg!”
“No, they don’t owe you shit”, I said in a voice that unmistakably loud and clear.
“Fuck you, old man! You stay the fuck out of this!” he bellowed. “Shut up or I’ll do ya’!”
“’Old man’? ‘Do me’? Excuse me. Luna, may I have a word alone with this individual?” I asked sweetly.
Luna shook her head in the affirmative, and I stood up to confront this flagrant asshole.
“Now look, Scooter. You have gone way, way over the fucking line. You are loud. You are abusive. You are obnoxious. And you stink. Plus you insulted a person who is just barely containing his righteous wrath right now. So, I’m giving you one and one only chance to shut up, sit back down before your body spontaneously develops all sort of bruises, contusions, broken bones, and unconsciousness.” I said calmly, evenly, and threateningly.
“What da’ fuck you think you’re going to do…old man?” he screeched, trying to inflate himself into full mammalian threat posture, all 5’ 9” of it.
He didn’t notice Toivo walking up quietly behind him, as Toivo was returning from the head, quiet as a moose.
“Well, Scooter, I am an Air Marshall. Duly appointed, fully trained, and properly pissed off. Right now, I can arrest you, physically detain you, turn this flight around and take you to the Hawaiian police, at your cost for the inconvenience of the entire flight. Or I could arrest you, physically detain you, and turn you over to the Japanese authorities when we land. It’s really your choice. Choose wisely.”
To be continued…⇝

I saw someone else share their one year streak and figured you all might find my inspirational as well.
Up until age 35, I never ran more then a mile in my life. I just didn't think it was enjoyable to force myself to run that distance (or longer). But after gaining about 70 lbs from age 18-35 I realized I needed to do something.
So my wife and I started running. Over the next six years we worked ourselves up to running a marathon. And I lost about 50lbs of that 70 I have gained since HS. But not being satisfied with my accomplishment, I searched for something else to do. So on January 1, 2016 I started my streak of at least one mile every day.
Overall, it has been a huge positive to my life. I tell people all of the time that it is easier then you think. Getting up in the morning knowing you need to run at least a mile, takes so much pressure off of your life. Get up, run, feel better.
Over the past five years I have been lucky enough to do most of my runs in Florida, with great (hot) weather. But here are some of the highlights if you will.
​

• Have run on three different continents
• One ocean - cruise ship
• 12 different countries
• 15 different states
• Ran outside during two different hurricanes
• Ran one week when the temperature was about 5 degrees Fahrenheit
• 13 marathons - 9 of them different (Ran Disney a lot)
• I get migraines a lot, so my best guess is I have run with a migraine about 80-100 times. The running actually helps with the pain, but it comes right back after I stop
• I have run over 2,000 miles in a year twice (that I tracked) and my guess is about 9,000 miles in total
• I have run with a fever (cold/flu) about a dozen times.
• Ran with a broken hand and cast for 6 weeks. Ran with a broken hand and no cast for one day. Also ran a marathon during this time (against the opinion of my Dr)
• Ran before a surgery on broken hand (above) and then again 24 hours later with a numb arm after the surgery.

The best runs during this period were those runs on vacation in new areas. Going someplace you have never been before and waking up before the rest of the world and seeing "everything". Here are some of my most vivid memories
​

• Historic Anacostia - Waking up early enough that it is just me and a few remaining drug dealers left on the street. As a white male in a predominately black neighborhood, the number of times I heard someone mention the cops when I was running past was very humerous.
• Vegas strip - Similar to Anacostia, but with prostitutes. At 5am you tend to see a lot of women walking out of the casinos by themselves. They are all dressed well, and are carrying handbags with high heel shoes sticking out of the top of the bags
• Salzburg Austria - had the opportunity to run through the hills and see sheep wandering around
• Munich Germany - Outside of Munich had the opportunity to run through a few small villages and talk to a few locals that early. Also found a cemetery that overlooked three different villages. It was a spectacular view in a very serene environment
• Paris - This is the city I have run the second most miles in. During runs you can go from parks to quaint little streets with bakeries that have been there for hundreds of years. The smell of flowers to flour be prepared. Everything about all of these runs has been spectacular.
• NYC - This is the city that I have run most in. This is the only place I have run were I have been overwhelmed with people and distractions. It is one of my favorite places to run for that reason, but not somewhere I could run every day (that is relegated to my rural home in Florida).

Edit to add...
Thanks for all the love. So here is a little bit more backstory to this.
In my profession (Actuary) we have a professional journal that used to be printed on a bi-monthly basis. Years ago (maybe 2005) they did a feature on an actuary who had a running streak for 40+ years. At the time I was not a runner. But the story has stuck with me. His story was obviously much more extraordinary then mine. I do hope that I could encourage someone to take a similar journey.

Artist: Joji
Album: Nectar
Label: 88Rising
Release Date: September 25, 2020
Listen:
Spotify
Apple Music
YouTube Music
Deezer
Soundcloud
Background
Not many artists have had a come-up as interesting and eccentric as George Kusunoki Miller, a former YouTube comedian/edgelord turned moody R&B singer. George first got his taste of internet fame as FilthyFrank, a character he described as everything a person should not be, he played the notorious persona on YouTube for over 6 years and eventually had to retire it due to him losing passion for it and suffering from stress induced seizures, which playing the character often caused.
Throughout his time as FilthyFrank however he began experimenting with music, mostly of the satirical kind at the start, his first tracks were under the FilthyFrank persona, the first one being Who's The Sucker, a dumb track where he somehow manages to rhyme "nicer" with "vagina", go figure.
A few years later, alongside the satirical rap, Joji began to make what he would consider as serious music, and this is where the timeline gets a bit messy, as he put out multiple tracks under multiple different aliases and the lines got blurred pretty fast, so I won't focus on aliases too much, but rather on the music he put out, around this era he released the therapeutical Medicine, the slow and melancholy We Fall Again, and Dumplings, which was Joji's best attempt at a trap banger.
In 2015, he birthed the Joji alias, released two singles on Soundcloud under that name, and announced a project called Chloe Burbank Vol. 1, the project was later scrapped and is probably sitting on Joji's hard drive, unfinished, however, the two singles he put out, thom and you suck charlie, were the tracks that put him in the spotlight, not to mention that to this day, there are some of his fans that believe these 2 tracks are his best and will not be topped, but that's a discussion for another day.
Following the overwhelmingly positive reception, Joji began to put out more tracks and singles, both under the aforementioned alias and Pink Guy, which was a character that blossomed into a satirical rap project, but I won't be covering that too much, and will focus on what he did as Joji instead, most tracks Joji put out were met with positive reception, some of the tracks, such as worldstar money, ended up on his debut EP as well.
Sometime around early 2016, Joji ended up signing with 88rising, a label focused on building the bridge between east and west, he explained in an interview that he was initially a consultant for the duo behind the record label, however, once the duo noticed his music and how well it was received, they asked him to jump on board and he instantly took the chance, getting signed alongside the likes of Rich Brian and Higher Brothers.
The label immediately undertook Joji and began distributing his catalog on their YouTube channel and helped him release more music, which was a couple of singles in the earlier half of 2017, and his debut EP in the latter half, the EP, known as "In Tongues", was met with mixed reception from fans and critics alike, with some describing it as his most concise body of work so far that is oozing potential, and others describing it as a bleak project that fails to set Joji apart from the sea of artists on the same wavelength as himself.
Following the release of the EP, Joji began working on his debut album, known as BALLADS 1, the album's first single, YEAH RIGHT, was released on the 8th of May, the track was first believed to be a standalone loosie as it was released 5 months before the album itself, however it ended up being on the album and was confirmed as the one of the singles alongside SLOW DANCING IN THE DARK, CAN'T GET OVER YOU, which features a production credit from non other than Clams Casino, and TEST DRIVE.
The album was well received, and was praised for containing a wider variety of sounds than its predecessor, it felt like a natural progression for Joji's sound and was a step forward towards a more mainstream approach whilst not sacrificing any of the rawness that Joji's older stuff had, which seemed to be what most fans were expecting from him.
Moving forward Joji stayed mostly silent throughout 2019, appearing on the second 88Rising collaboration album, which was negatively received due to it's lack of creativity and sub-par performances from most label signees, he also appeared on Rich Brian's sophomore album, The Sailor, and released which is now known to be as the first single from Nectar, Sanctuary, a synth based poppy track that previewed a vocally improved and more confident version of Joji.
What was assumed to be a loosie turned out to be the beginning of an album rollout, as half a year later Joji released Run, setting a new standard for himself both instrumentally and vocally, and a couple of months later he released Gimme Love, a double sided track with a fun, catchy beginning and a melancholy ballad driven ending, the last single, Daylight, was released on the 8th of August, the instrumental was produced by Diplo and the track itself sounded like Joji's attempt to break into the mainstream.
Without warning, he also released two tracks that he classified as "NOT SONG", the first being Pretty Boy, which actually ended up on the album with a Lil Yachty feature, and the second being FTC, which sadly did not end up on the album, both tracks had videos and it seemed to me at first that the purpose of both tracks was to serve the lore that Joji has built around the album, which I will be touching up on in this write-up.
A day before the album's release, he put out Gimme Cum, an enigmatic track with a mysterious message.
Nectar itself was pushed back from it's original July release date due to the pandemic and Black Lives Matter protests, the album however was released on the 25th of September.
Album Lore
If there's one thing George is no stranger to, it would definitely be worldbuilding, as he has proven time and time again that he has a knack for it, especially with his FilthyFrank YouTube channel, where he managed to create characters, locations, and an entire universe out of a few satirical characters, his lore was adored by many and even though visually he never wrapped up the story he did release a book that served as closure for the FilthyFrank lore.
This album's lore is not as straight forward however, and there are multiple theories doing the rounds on the internet, personally I will go by what sounded most convincing to me in terms of timeline and storyline, however do feel free to expand on what I've said or correct me, George has left multiple things left open to interpretation therefore I would not be surprised if there were multiple different meanings to the same thing.
Our story begins in the music video for Gimme Love, where we see a young Joji who appears to be a small time engineer that is eager to climb through the ranks of the company he is working for, as he rises however he appears to become more stressed out and agitated at all times, lashing out at his coworkers and breaking down consistently, throughout the music video we can see that the more he progresses, the more roadblocks he runs into, which causes his behavior to become more psychotic and manic, as the shots move forward we see him accept awards, lead his very own research team, run failed experiments on his coworkers that causes them to bleed, and eventually receive military covert status, which did not come without sacrifices, as we see him smile less and less throughout the video.
In the second half of the video, we see Joji steal the rocket he helped build by locking out his crew members, and launch himself into space, disappointing everyone he worked with and stabbing them in the back he appears to be quite happy however, eventually his mood flips as he is faced with two choices, engage or eject, the following shot does not allow us to see which one he picked as we are facing his back, all we see is Joji making the choice and gearing up for what's to come.
The lines get blurred around this spot and many people have different theories as to which video is the right one chronologically, personally I believe Daylight comes next, and my theory is Joji is having some sort of fever dream featuring his previous coworkers, most notably the older people who went through layers of plastic surgery, who appear in the music video for FTC, where they are seen wearing badges that features the same organization Joji worked for, throughout the video they are seen rummaging through the wreckage caused by Joji, clearly looking for something specific, which ends up being the award Joji won.
Back to Daylight, Joji appears to be some sort of intern working for the director and the actors, towards the end of the music video we can see Joji waking up from the aforementioned fever dream, clearly in a daze, as the shot widens we see that he is alone, in a barren wasteland, with nothing around him except for a tent and what appears to be a device used for communication, he plants a few seeds in the soil and sits by the device, hoping for a sign of life.
Next comes Run, where we are once again met with Joji having a nightmare, the entire video symbolizes being trapped in a place you don't want to be in, as Joji appears to be in a never ending limousine with people he has no interest in whatsoever, towards the end of the nightmare we actually see Joji running across a massive wasteland, the same wasteland we saw him in at the end of the Daylight music video, throughout the video, we see Joji become consumed by the soil itself, which I would assume is a representation of his fears back then, seeing as he was alone and had little to no hope of being saved whatsoever.
Joji wakes up from this nightmare and appears to be in some kind of spaceship, if the videos were released chronologically, we would be completely lost at this point, lucky for us, we already know what the spaceship is, as we see a picture of the Sanctuary crew in the final shots of the Run music video, I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say that the crew is the ones that saved him from death and picked him up from the mess that he placed himself in, hence the name Sanctuary, which means refuge or safety from pursuit, persecution, or other danger
The crew itself is seen in action in the music video for Sanctuary, where Joji appears to be fighting and defeating some sort of one-eyed alien supervillain at the start, however, once he is defeated, both Joji and the crew themselves become aimless, as they are living monotonously without a goal, thankfully(???), one of the crew members sees this and decides to take matters into his own hands, by surgically removing his own eye, which portrays his transformation into the new supervillain, and following this up by killing a crewmember and escaping on his own, once again giving the spaceship it's own purpose.
Unfortunately the music videos that were put out after the release of the album appear to be too subtle for me to think they are connected in any way, shape or form, there are many theories of course but I can't help but feel like that most of them are a reach.
The most plausible explanation for this lore that I can think of is that the whole escaping from earth on his own, landing in a barren wasteland, trying to plant seeds in it, and eventually being picked up by a group(88Rising, wink wink) is a metaphor for his transition from FilthyFrank to Joji, the barren wasteland stands for how hopeless he felt at the time and the seeds symbolize the loosies he was slowly dropping before ditching his channel to become an R&B superstar, which if true, solidifies the idea that George was done with FilthyFrank long before he actually left the channel itself.
Regardless, I thought the lore was very enjoyable and it was nice to see Joji back in one of his elements at least, most fans would have been disappointed in me if I had not touched up on it a bit seeing as it was a huge part of the albums release and they are intertwined in some sort of way.
Review

When it's lovely I believe in anything What does love mean When the end is rolling in

• Ew

It is important for me to preface this review with the fact that this Joji album is not like anything we've ever heard from him before, this is not the one man army, garageband using, sample meshing Joji that we knew in the past, this is Joji with an entire team behind his artistic vision, a whole group of people working with him to help him push his sound to the next level, and unfortunately, while the quality of the music has clearly went up, when so many people have their own input on something eventually the lines get blurred and the album loses its artistic direction and cohesion, which is one of my only complaints with this album, and I'm glad I got it out of the way first.
Artistic direction and cohesion aside, this album contains some of Joji's highest highs to date, especially the singles, that's not to say that there aren't some deep cuts on here that shine as well, but once you listen to the album in it's entirety you quickly understand why the singles were chosen as singles, especially when you consider how sonically different they are from the non-singles.
Sanctuary, the album's first single, is a sweet, poppy and synthy track that features a high pitched and melodic Joji, some of the track's lyrics are somewhat abstract but they are quite visually descriptive and that's always a plus in my book, the instrumental itself is quite spacey and has a nice retro vibe to it, already a huge step forward from what we've already heard from George, the track's climax reaches towards the end and gives us a beautiful bridge,with Joji crooning about wanting to be held by a significant other.

I fell for your magic, I tasted your skin And though this is tragic, at least I found the end I witnessed your madness, you shed light on my sins And if we share in this sadness, then where have you been?

• Run

Run is one of the more cinematic cuts on this album, the track is truly a double edged sword because although it's one of Joji's best, it has set an extremely high standard for both Joji and the album, leaving fans such as myself worried about whether or not he will ever reach a similar high, the production is clean, Joji's vocal lines are as dynamic as ever, the guitar melody is infectious, the lyrics are better than anything Joji has ever written and he is putting his heart and soul into every word, the electric guitar solo at the end is also something worth mentioning, which sits perfectly right in front of Joji's distant and wide vocals, ending the track on a strong note.

Look into your heart and let me know Do things turn black and gray as they go? When I'm far too gone, can you show me love? Give me love

• Gimme Love

The lyrics above come from the album's third single, a 2 sided track that starts as a bouncy, percussive, fast paced, and catchy song, with Joji chanting and pleading to be given love, softly singing about being surrounded by apathetic people, after the second chorus the entire song comes to a halt in order to make room for a mellow guitar and Joji's harmonies, which are absolutely stunning if I may add, the track, much like many other tracks on here, ends on a cinematic strong note with a string section and a grandiose piano.
The final single, Daylight, is no doubt unexplored territory for Joji, the instrumental, which was produced by Diplo, starts off slow and minimalistic, with a simple yet groovy bassline, and reaches its apex on the chorus, when it suddenly becomes extremely lush, heavy, and thick, the track is most definitely a solid attempt at modern day and mainstream pop music, clearly made with the intention of receiving radio play.
All of the singles show up in the first leg of the album, which is absolutely phenomenal, the opener track, Ew, starts off light and easy, with a somber and distant arpeggiated piano backed with Joji's soft vocals, who's singing about heartbreak and the loss of many relationships, sounding as bitter as ever lyrically, the chorus includes a grand string section and a chord progression that is fully panned to the right and sitting all the way behind the mix, and surprise surprise, the track itself ends on a cinematic strong note, much like many of the other tracks on here.

I've got no aim, a million rounds, is nothing real? A hundred pounds of heavy steel, it feels so loud Tied to my chest, it feels so loud I'll take a peek to across the peaks This grass is neat and I'm quite unique But I'd like to be, but I'd like to be

• MODUS

Up next comes MODUS, a moody track that has an intro similar to the opener track but later on has Joji melodic rapping to a murky trap instrumental, with Joji of course sounding better than ever, lyrically speaking, many of the themes on this album are similar, Joji is mostly singing about relationships, heartbreak, and the need for a significant other, the lyrics themselves give the album a nocturnal, bitter, hopeless vibe, which is what we've come to expect from Joji's music nowadays.
The third track, Tick Tock, is a plucky banger of an instrumental that has Joji rapping over it with pitched up vocals on the chorus which is something that's a little bit reminiscent of his older, more amateur work, the vocal layering on the verse is also something worth mentioning, really showcases Joji's dynamic range and how much he improved as a whole, the track is nothing groundbreaking in terms of what we've heard so far and remains lowkey for the most part but is without a doubt one of my favorites on this project.

On Nectar, one of the yet-to-be-announced tracks was produced when the artist was only sixteen years old. “I’m excited to see if it sticks out or not to the listeners.” he reveals.

• Joji Interview with Schön! Magazine.

While not officially announced by Joji himself, it is safe to say that Upgrade is the aforementioned track, a small interlude that seats itself in the earlier part of the album, the track starts with a grandiose piano, which is quite unnecessary if you ask me, because once we have it out of the way all we get is a very obviously barebones instrumental made from a different time, the telltale sign being non other than the ukulele that we have seen in George's earlier work.
It upsets me that Joji has not made this fact much more known because this track has been consistently the subject of criticism by critics and fans alike, but at the same time I understand, because at the end of the day George left that track in there for the die hard fans, not the critics.
Up until this point there is no doubt that Joji has played it safe, sure the album is much more grand and cinematic than its predecessor, but there's no denying that the signature sound is still there, we still get the hazy and moody slow bangers, if Nectar was only the first half then Joji might have had a strong album in his catalog, maybe even a classic, but I understand him wanting to expand and experiment with other sounds in order to grow as an artist.
The midsection gets a little bit tricky, as Joji begins to get out of his comfort zone and the album features start appearing, to me it sounds like Joji did not know how he could keep the listener interested in the second half of this album and decided to opt in for a bunch of features as a quick fix, some work out fine, some better than others.

Handsome young man, never pull up on time Lookin' in the mirror, lookin' good should be a crime, crime All this pain I'll never let show (No) My real thoughts, you'll never know (No)

• Lil Yachty on Pretty Boy

I never really listened to Lil Yachty that much aside from the obvious hits he had over the course of his career, but he clearly shined on this track as the feature, for starters, the track is very light-hearted, definitely one of the more lofi tracks on this album, the highlight for me without a doubt is the bridge, which sounds like something straight out of Pink Season, George was clearly having genuine fun with it, some even speculate that most of the bridge was made using samples from his earlier work as Pink Guy.
High Hopes, which features Omar Apollo, is one of the more lowkey cuts in here as well, the percussion on the instrumental and the detuned guitar on here remind me of some of Joji's stuff from BALLADS 1, unfortunately however the track doesn't stand out much, at least not as much as Afterthought with BENEE, another track where Joji's melodies and vocals shine through once again, and BENEE's feature definitely adds some character to the track, at least enough to the point where the feature made some sense
On Normal People, Joji recruits childhood friend rei brown, in an attempt to capture lightning again after their first collaboration, Once In A While. Unfortunately lightning didn't strike twice here for me and the track felt quite lackluster and uninteresting, especially for such an anticipated track and when compared to their first song, many of the tracks and collaborations on the second part of the album really felt like Joji just trying to recapture the magic of his earlier work, and while some of those attempts did work at the end of the day it does feel like a cheap cop out.

Oh, understand, girl, I'm out of sight To the other side, I don't want no stripes Got my insides loud like motorcycles Girl, don't notice it, I don't notice it

• NITROUS

Another example of Joji attempting to recapture magic is NITROUS, which marks Joji's second time collaborating with Clams Casino, the track is very reminiscent of their first track together, both Joji and Clams Casino however killed it, the track's instrumental is very murky and nocturnal, much alike most of the album, but that doesn't stop Joji's delivery, which is very fun-loving and upbeat.

By the way you move, I know you want me to Tell you all the rules, I know I'm searching too Give me all your clues and things to guide me through The end of the world, the end of the world

• Mr. Hollywood

Produced by the one and only Kenneth Instrumentals, Mr. Hollywood is one of the more heartfelt and personal tracks on this album, Joji is singing about his evergrowing popularity and how it will never affect what is important for him, which in this case is the girl he's singing about, like many other tracks on this album, you will often hear something that will remind you of Joji's older work, in this case it is the ad-libs on the chorus, which are very reminiscent of his ad-libs on BESIDJU, regardless the song has at least a bit of substance which makes it one of the more commendable tracks.
The final run of this album is where Joji flips the script here, there are a few tracks that have questionable artistic decisions, such as Reanimator, with non other than Yves Tumor, the track serves as an instrumental interlude before the final two tracks, however with a feature such as Yves Tumor I honestly expected much more than what we got, and what we got is basically a 3 minute track, with the first minute and a half being nothing than a drone-y, synthy instrumental, and the second half being quite a lackluster performance by Joji and his guest, much like some of the other tracks on the album, it seems like it received a similar treatment, where the track was initially unfinished and still half-baked, and rather than attempting to finish the track they opted for an easy way out, which in this case was making more than half of the track an instrumental and then calling it an interlude just to be safe.

"that weeknd synthpop track sure is doing huge numbers, maybe i should also make a synthpop track as well"

• Joji, probably.

I would be down to argue that if Blinding Lights by The Weeknd had not existed, 777 wouldn't have existed either, Joji's constant attempts at breaking into the mainstream and commercializing his sound have always left a bad taste in my mouth as it felt like it came from a place where authenticity is lacking, nevertheless I find it bizarre to make a track that is very similar to one of the most successful tracks of the year and not attempt to push it at all, that's not to say that 777 on it's own is not a good track, however there's no denying that the sound selection on the instrumental, some of the flows, and the chorus itself hold blaring similarities to The Weeknd's track, I understand why he would make such a track however and find it admirable at the very least.
Thankfully, the album ends on a strong note, the final two tracks are both beautiful even though they're worlds apart, Like You Do, is a quintessential love ballad from Joji, a stripped down instrumental with beautiful piano chords and a laid back vibe, Joji is singing about his current partner and how what they have might not work out, even though he feels like they're perfect for one another, the closing track, Your Man is a massive change in tempo, with an upbeat, electronic, deep house-esque instrumental, we hear a Joji that is optimistic, which is a nice change of pace, especially considering how bitter most of his albums and projects have been up to date.

Since I met you All the gloomy days just seem to shine a little more brightly Consider what we've got 'Cause I can never take you for granted

• Like You Do

Conclusion
There's no denying that some tracks on here sound like a bastardized version of Joji's signature sound. Joji is trying his best to commercialize his sound without sacrificing the rawer elements of it, which unfortunately results in a jumble of sounds. This album is not free of criticisms as there are many issues in here that need to be worked on, it's much less cohesive than its predecessor and at times sounds like a bunch of rough ideas put together in order to create the world's most average musical equivalent of a photo collage, but if we were to just set all of that aside and just look at this album for what it is, then there's definitely something in here for everyone. George might have not made a classic, and he certainly hasn't found his sound yet, but this album is an indicator that he's on to something, and once again I am already anxious to hear what he has in store next.
Talking Points

• What did you think of this album? Is it a good follow-up to BALLADS 1?
  
• Do you think Joji works better alone or when he has a team behind him?
  
• Do you think Joji will yet again set another high standard for himself next project?
  
• What are your predictions for Joji's sound in the future?
  
• Now that he's more keen on having features, who do you think would compliment Joji's sound the most?
  
• Favorite tracks?
  

So we're familiar with the drugged out mother in the return. She says 119119119, what the hell is that?
Well after doing some lynch addition, it turns out there that every combination ends up in the number 6.
Lynch addition (is what I'm calling it for simplicity) is the process of taking a number and adding up its individual numbers, eventually getting a number between 0 and 10. In numerology, each of these numbers have a "story" so to speak. You can infer quite a lot from what they mean, or what David Lynch may have meant by their placement, but a couple of numbers are quite clearly tied up in the twin peaks mystery, purely through linking different parts of the story alone. If anyone is subscribed to David Lynch's youtube channel, he has a daily series where he takes a number out of a pot. It makes a lot more sense as to why when you realise that he is a big fan of numerology (and its link to eastern philosophy and so on).
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8M6mRIpEJSU Take a look at 53:30
David says that 7 is his favourite number, Madchen says that she loves seven and seventeen. Lynch replies that 17 is an 8.
So why is 6 important? Well, 6 is the number that is related to the black lodge - it's on the pole nearby ronnete pulaski's trailer where we hear the arm wooping, it's on another pole nearby where Richard Horne runs over a child, it's on a pole outside carrie pages home. https://twinpeaks.fandom.com/wiki/Utility_pole
It's also on the door in the Mansion Room that leads to evil cooper's car's cigarette lighter. The door says 15 when it leads to Evil Coop's car which in Lynch addition is 6 (1+5), but the "American Girl" (played by ronnete pulaski's actor) warns cooper not to travel through there. The door changes to a three once cooper flicks the switch on the roof, and Major Briggs' head floats past and says "BLUE ROSE".
Anywho, back to the addicted mother.
The only meaningful dialogue that she says is 119!
She says 119 6 times in total, 4 times in part 3, another 2 times in part 6. (I just noticed that would make it 4+3 | 2+6. Which is 7 | 8. Which adds to 15, which adds to 6).
Now if look at the total amounts of 119 as 2 groups of 119, we get:
119119119
What's very odd about this number is that no matter how you slice it, using the lynch numerology method we end up with 6.
Here are some examples:
1+1+9+1+1+9+1+1+9 = 33
3+3=6
1+1+9 | 1+1+9 | 1+1+9 = 11 | 11 | 11 1+1 | 1+1 | 1+1 = 2 | 2 | 2 2+2+2 = 6
Now you're familiar with the lynch addition let me do some quick examples to save me the effort of typing all those plusses.
1|19119119
1|32
1|5
6
11 | 9119119
2 | 31
2 | 4
6
119|119119
11|22
2|4
6
1191|19119
12|21
3|3
6
11911|9119
13|20
4|2
6
119119|119
22|11
4|2
6
1191191|19
23|10
5|1
6
11911911|9
24|9
6|9
15
6
1191|1|9119
12|1|20
3|1|2
6
Even odd slices like this.
11|91|19|11|9
2|10|10|2|9
2|1|1|2|9
15
6
Try it yourself!
Okay, that's odd you may be thinking.
Well fucko! It's about to get even weirder because 119119119 is also a very particular colour.
Turns out, 119119119 is one of the RGB numbers for middle grey. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Middle_gray
What's middle grey? Middle grey is a colour that is described as the geometric mean intensity between black and white. It's something that is quite well known in the industry, espeically to artists, and especially to artists who work with black and white film - as the director would need to calibrate the light meter manually with reference to middle grey in order to get the correct exposure. It seems quite likely that David Lynch would know about middle grey. (Have a look at his short films, and other black and white work! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eV8CPB7u_rg&list=PLTPQcjlcvvXHSVp-ehnxbD9i4wQ9C_qMO&index=10)
Weird right? Well the hex number for the colour represented by 119119119 is #777777. Which in lynch addition is 42, which 4+2, which is 6 again.
The first time we hear the addicted mother say 119119119 is in episode 3 where dougie/coop is wins lots of one armed bandits at the casino ("Helloooooo!").
The second time is in episode 6 where dougie/coop uncovers insurance fraud with the insurance documents that he has scribbled all over earlier in the episode (with some assistance from MIKE, and the white lodge) at his job at lucky sevens insurance.
As a final cherry on top, middle grey is also described by ansel adams as residing in zone V, as a quick reference guide for photographers and filmakers to calibrate light source. Ansel Adams is known in film academia for his contribution for these zones. Zone 0 is pure black and Zone X is pure white. Again, middle grey resides in the 6th zone.
So, 6 is related to middle grey, which is the midway point between black and white. One could say if there was a gateway between black and white, it would be at 6. Not only does middle grey add up to 6 using the numerology method, but it is also inherently related to Lynch's favourite number 7, which is where Dougie receives lots of assistance from the white lodge!
For more reference Mark Frost also adds to this theory: according to Mark Frost, when questioned about the mother, he said "The people who have one foot in the other world have a pronounced tendency to speak backwards." https://www.salon.com/2017/11/07/the-last-word-on-twin-peaks-by-david-lynchs-co-creator-mark-frost/
So not only does the addicted mother possibly tie into the black lodge by speaking backwards (trying to say 911 as others have pointed out), she could be tied in numerologically speaking too.
So, can you think of any other addicted mothers in Twin Peaks who have one foot in the other world? Perhaps one Sarah Palmer springs to mind - both of the mothers drink whiskey and take prescription pills too. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bl-nLSw7gkQ take a look at 16:27, and 16:59)
Laura Palmer's House? It's number 708... 7+0+8=15. 1+5 = 6.
Who answers the palmer residence's door when cooper knocks on in episode 18? It's alice tremond (https://twinpeaks.fandom.com/wiki/Alice_Tremond). Remember how BOB entered Laura's room in Fire Walk With Me? It was through a painting. Who gave Laura the painting? It was Mrs Chalfront, the first Mrs Tremond, otherwise known as Alice's Mother. https://twinpeaks.fandom.com/wiki/Mrs._Tremond
Just to jog our memory, it's the Mrs Tremond that appears sitting in the convenience store when the Arm and Bob are discussing garmonbozia (which is a physical manifestation of pain and suffering) https://twinpeaks.fandom.com/wiki/Garmonbozia
So, when Carrie Page is returned to the leyland residence and we hear Sarah Palmer calling out for Laura before Carrie Screams, it seems quite likely that she is being taken back to somewhere deeply interlinked with the black lodge.
Let me know what you think!
Peace

So the last 2 weeks have been fucking AMAZING compared to the previous 4, and I have actually been spending more time on the road at a clip and making money hand over fist. 79 ratings last week, all 5 stars with a compliment "Awesome driver!". I'm feeling good as hell and today's no different.
Until I got in the car at 0435 and the interior lights wouldn't go off. Dash says there's a door open, mine. I open and close it. Still telling me the door is open. Ok, so I kill the interior lights and live with the dash telling me it's open, right? Right. I put the car in gear, crank the wheel and let off the brake, press the gas..... HOLY FUCKING HELL WHAT IS THAT EAR PIERCING NOISE!?!?!?
Yep. Door ajar. Dash is flashing red like I just won at the casino and alarms are going off. Oh, and throw a new "Check Engine" light into the mix! I slowly back up the 3 inches I lurched forward before slamming on the brakes and sloshing the coffee from my mug all over the center console and shifter. (Black with a touch of raw sugar, for those wondering) I go back upstairs, lay back in bed and wait for 7, then drive to the dealer. Alarms blaring, dash flashing, my road rage at an all-time high at nobody's own doing, I'm not even a full cup of coffee into the day and I have a fucking car screaming "Hey dumbass, your door is open!" This machine telling me that -I- am in the wrong when clearly a part of it's central fucking nervous system has decided to quit. I can't even describe the sound. It's worse than that Dumb and Dumber scene "Most annoying sound in the world". It's 10. Long. Fucking. Miles. 10 miles to the nearest dealership.
Of course the whole ride there, to add to my new found hate fire, I KNOW that the car is going to spend at least the day, if not the weekend at the dealership and there's nothing I can do about it. I arrive 30 minutes later, I hit the Dunkin next door because I know there will be no coffee in the waiting room, because fuck Covid. I need a coffee before I get told my week is finished. I pull in the garage and get waved in by an advisor who takes down the info he needs, then we go in and he says that there's no way he can look at it until this afternoon. I plead with him to at least get me a prognosis by early afternoon so I can see what I can do about an alternate with the hub.
A couple issues here- The hub has no phone number, e-mail, nothing. You go in you get seen. Or you can set an appt through the app. I wait and wait, finally at 3:59 this cat calls me and says "door handle, sensor and latch have all gone bad, known issue, but the best I can do is Tuesday"
/week.
By the time I figured out you can only go into the hub, and can't get them to contact you through the app (BTW, wtf happened to Lyft customer service? They used to be so amazing!) and all they do is throw a bunch of copy+paste responses that basically say "Fuck off somewhere with this bullshit". I decide to Uber or Lyft to the hub... Lyft- $51 to go less than 5 miles. Uber- No drivers, $44 if there were. Finally get a ride at $33. 19 minutes away, arrival time? 5:08. Ok, maybe I'll get lucky and someone will still be there on a Friday at 5:08 that kicks off a three-day weekend for all of them? I better have a lucky horse shoe up my ass, amirite?
Driver cancels. No. Cars. Available. Lyft? LOLFOURTYFUCKINNINEDOLLARSTOGO4MILESNOWONDERMYPASSNEGERSDON'TTIP! But I still bite on it. Lose fifty bucks but have a chance to make $500? I like to think I take solid bets. But this driver is 14 minutes out. I lost 5 minutes, but still end up there at around the same time. Can you guess where I live though? Right off the expressway. The problem is that the expressway section where I live is notoriously fucked at all times of the day. Nobody, including me, wants to be around this area ferrying people around. And the area I'm going to? If they did the math right like I have learned to, they knew they were going to the badlands. Another place most drivers don't really like fucking around in.
Driver cancels, next driver 19 minutes out.
I mean on the bright side, it's their car. It's a warranty and/or recall/rapid response issue that is apparently known about, now I am just going to hope that they help me out a little with the rental for 3 days. (lol I know)
So uh, yeah.

Warning: long rambling stories ahead. I am bored and waiting to get through my first day back at work since before Christmas. You've been warned!
I've been going to the casino pretty regularly for the past few years. Before that, I played occasionally. I exclusively play slots. I view it as a night out - first with friends back when I brought $50 and played penny denom minimum bet spins and prayed to win $20, and then eventually shifting my mindset to playing higher bets and denominations. I hit my first jackpot handpay a couple of years ago. I hit $3700 on a $27 bet on a Geisha machine. I've hit a few other jackpots here and there, culminating with my biggest jackpot ever this past summer. I hit $12K on a $50 bet on a Pompeii slot machine.
Well, the long story short is that I have fallen out of love with gambling. I have somehow managed to have a positive ROI on gambling. I track my withdrawls and win on a spreadsheet. To put it bluntly: I have been extremely lucky over the past few years. I know that slots are not a viable way to win money in the long run, so I made a decision a few months ago to "retire" from gambling at the end of 2020.
I went to my local casino last Wednesday. It just so happens when I hit a jackpot that I usually do it within the first half hour or so I'm at the casino. Well, it happened again. After going up $600 or so on another slot machine (I don't remember the name), I went to one of my most hated/favorite old school slots - Zeus dollar denomination. One of my worst moments in all of gambling was a few years ago. I got a bonus round on the Zeus dollar denomination on max bet of $45 a spin. I was BEYOND excited. I've seen Youtube videos where people have won tens of thousands of dollars in that exact scenario. Much to my shock, I won nothing. In that game, you don't win anything for triggering the bonus. So I actually *lost* $45 on getting the bonus. I cashed out and left immediately.
Anyway, last week I hit a modest $4500. It was exciting...but not as exciting as I thought it should be. I was cool, calm, and...detached. The wins didn't mean much to me, and the losses mean absolutely nothing. My wife and I are in the EXTREMELY fortunate position that losing $500 or so every week or two at the casino is affordable. I'm not ignorant to how lucky we are to be in this position.
After getting paid out, I played a bit longer. But that hand pay drove home the realization that I had a few months ago: it was time to stop gambling. If I can't get pumped about a big win like that, and if I'm not even phased a little bit by losing, it's just not worth gambling any more. I used to go for entertainment, but even now gambling doesn't provide that much.
As I sit now, I am up roughly $18K over three years of slots. Not bad, but not life changing. Enough that I bought my wife a Burberry and Louis Vuitton handbag on separate occasions. The rest if stashed in savings or in an investment account somewhere. But I am 100% committed to being done. At least for 2021, and probably longer.
If anyone is interested in hearing my thoughts on how to win...I don't have any insight to share. It's luck. I got lucky. I know I got lucky. The usual tropes about setting win and loss thresholds is good advice. Sometimes I chased payouts and hit them. Sometimes I chased and lost. But I managed to hit more than miss, and for that I'm lucky. And thankful.
Anyway. I don't have a major takeaway or anything. I don't have many people I can talk about this with in my personal life, so I figured I'd share a bit of my story here.
If you do gamble, please do so responsibly. Good luck, and try to have fun. If you're not having fun, it's probably not the right way to spend your time or money.
EDIT:
I just wanted to say to anyone who reads this in the future that I appreciate the nice responses and PMs from people. It's nice to share a positive experience with others! I sincerely hope that if any of you choose to play in the future, you choose to do so responsibly. Gambling can be a hugely problematic lifestyle for some people. Stay safe. (end of preaching here).
I also want to take a second to address some comments from some people about slots being skill based. This is 100% false. The concept of slots being skill based in any way is demonstrably untrue with three seconds of reasonable thinking. If we accept that there is a hypothetical slot game which is based on skill and not pure luck, what are the consequences of that? First of all, this information would leak out. There would be no way to contain it. If one person can solve the system, another an as well. Subsequently, someone would write a book on the subject. Think about all the poker and blackjack strategy books out there. These are games where skillful play can increase your odds of winning. Last I checked, there aren't any books or Supersytem-level analyses from prominent individuals willing to stake their names and reputations on publishing a "slot technique" book. There's a reason for this. And also - think about this: casinos still carry blackjack tables for a reason: they still have an edge to win. If there is a surefire way for individuals to win when playing slots, casinos would 100% for sure take these games out of circulation. Casinos are not in the business of giving away money. Any claim there is a foolproof way to win money playing slots does not make sense when critical thinking is applied to the circumstances.
Slots are not like card games. Finding and playing only games where there is a "must win by" progressive is not the same thing as skillful play. That's more akin to something like card counting in blackjack. Many people who design slot machines and engineer the software behind the scenes have posted on Reddit and elsewhere that wins are based on random number generators running behind every spin. There is literally no skill involved - you win or lose each spin based on pure random luck.
I am saying this because there are a number of people who come to this subreddit to look for ways to cheat the system and get easy money. I see posts like this fairly often, and I'm only browsing this subreddit occasionally. Gambling is not, and should not, be a way for anyone looking to make a quick buck. If you're looking to get an edge playing slots because you need to pay bills or make a quick buck, you are already in serious trouble. Do not buy into the delusion that you can get an edge or guarantee a win. People saying this are snake oil salesmen who do not care for you or your well-being.
Anyway. I'm going to stop monitoring this post. I'm still open to receiving PMs or messages, but I've had my fun with this so far. I could do with fewer trolls, but this is the internet. I knew what to expect. Bon chance, everyone!

Let me take the recent christmas loot box debacle as a pretense to maybe attract some attention to the matter and explain to you why I think some light should be shown on the design philosophy behind WoWs:
My personal background is in psychology (degree comparable to a masters) so I would like to invite you to have a look at the game through the lense of cognitive-behavioral mindset. Another background of mine is that of a veteran WoWs player who quit once more than a year ago, came back and did so again. This time it’s probably forever. What is this guy talking about? Well, I will try to keep it short because I don’t know how many people actually care and I am aware that I am preaching old news. Anyway..
Imagine two scenarios:
A: you got a mouse in a cage that can pull a lever and get sugacocaine/pick a drug everytime it does.
B: you got another mouse in another cage that can pull a lever and get it’s drug not everytime it does. This reward is unpredictable.
Reinforcing the new behaviour is called conditioning.
So which of the mice you think will become addicted quicker? It’s mouse B. It’s widely found that an unpredictable reinforcement is more effective at getting the mouse to learn the target behavior.
At this point you probably start wondering how this is all tied to addiction in general and yes, that’s something to talk about too, but let’s stay with the basics for a moment longer.
You and I we’re the mouse in cage B, except our personal skinner box is more pretty (insert praise fort he art department here) and made for humans, but in regards of conditioning new behavior, learning and such our minds work remarkebly alike.
Everything in WoWs is unpredictable reinforcement.
Many people are already aware of this, but let me just give you guys some food for thought:

• match making. The spread of 3 tiers exist to randomly give everybody the opportunity to b in a hugely favorable position (MM is complex and there are other factors at play, they want to have people still playing lower tiers for instance, etc)
  
• detonations (nuff said)
  
• fires
  

look at all the build-in randomness and unpredictability from my point of view for a second.
I mean intransparent lootboxes are pretty obvious by now, but how about the 3 daily containers? You ever wondered why the progress bar showing the progress to the third daily container in-game might be intentionably not to scale? Yes, it looks like it is three-times the distance to reach the third container, when it’s actually a lot more XP needed. (don’t have it installed, can’t check exact number)
Edit: thx for the gold thing. now I feel I should have spent some time on it to make an elaborate argument :D
So what’s my deal? When I saw the christmas crate fiasco repeat for another year with people literally spending over thousand euros/dollars for the chance of getting a single, otherwise unavailable pixel boat I atleast wanna rant a bit on reddit:
you’re being exploited.
these mechanics are designed to use your brain against you.
this is intentionally trying to turn you into an addict.
WG is not the only game company applying these predatory industry standards to make bank. As a 33 y/o guy it saddens me to see how games have turned into cash machines when big money got involved in the last 10-15 years or so.
I feel lucky to still have grown up as a kid that just spend way too much time playing playstation and counterstrike 1.3 instead of these evil contraptions with their real world money in-game stores, skins, loot boxes, etc.
So if you’re still with me and think what is this guy on about I am not addicted. Then atleast ask yourself if you want to support that other people are being exploited, that minors are falling prey to a big corporation which keeps pumping out stellar numbers for share-holders while saving their taxes happily on cyprus.
Last time I checked minors were not allowed in casinos. To protect them. Atleast in the real world.

As the title says I’m turning 20 years old. I have learned a lot being a teenager, it’s the prime of our lives, it’s where we finish secondary school, get our first part-time job, choose a university, or leave school and get a full-time job. Personally, I have learnt a lot, most of it is from my own experiences but I wish someone else had told me earlier on before I found out for myself. I wouldn’t say I’m leaving this sub forever; I’ll give myself the “old” tag and give advice where I think I could be of help. I would still like to write the bulk of what I’ve learned here to help you. 1. I see a lot of posts about mental health and suicide and you need to know it’s okay not to be okay. Help is out there I love helping people I enjoy it, so please message me if you need help. I to have felt depressed at times, one major thing about me is that I care too much about what people think about me, if someone has a problem I want to know why. If you’re like this too learn to let things roll of your back and ignore them. 2. Stop worrying about relationships at 13 to 16 years old, at the time of writing this I haven’t had a girlfriend yet nor anything even close, nothing lasted more than a night 2 days at the most. We will all find someone at some point. I have thought about losing my virginity to a prostitute, it might fun, and I shouldn’t regret it, but I probably would. 3. Do well in school, one of my biggest regrets is being too busy trying to be the funny popular guy trying to be everyone’s friend, I failed at both having a huge circle of friends and failed school as well. 4. Your school grades don’t define who you are. There are plenty of options for you to take and still do what you want to do but doing as well as you can in school will make doing what you want easier. 5. Get a part time job once you are old enough. Even if it a volunteer job it will give you much needed work experience that will help you eventually get a paid job. Also looks good on a university application. Try and avoid customer service for your first! 6. Save up your money. I understand once you start working you might be tempted to spend your money on new games or PC upgrades I know I was, and that’s ok, it’s nice to treat ourselves every so often, however even putting just £50 aside each month into a savings account will help massively for when you wish to buy a car, pay for university or pay for when you decide to go on holiday with friends after you finish school and help you get a property for when you wish to move out. 7. If you know what to do you could invest your money in stocks, I wish I’d known to do that sooner, if you can invest £100 each month into shares over a few months or years your portfolio will grow and hopefully if you bought the right shares could make some sweet profit. 8. Carrying on from number 3. Use this time while you’re still at home to travel, I live in the UK so after we did A levels (I did engineering Btec) after saving up for about 2 years my friends and I were able to go interrailing (backpacking as the Americans call it!) through Europe for 4 weeks. But only do this with friends that you know you can have fun with. The people I went with didn’t enjoy going out to clubs and getting drunk as much as I do, so I wish I had gone with people I could do that with. 9. if it, it’s too good to be true it usually is 10. your Parents don’t always know best, if you want to follow a career path and your parents don’t agree do it, you will regret it. Thankfully I have parents that support me in whatever I do, but I know people that do. 11. Don’t hang around people who aren’t your friends. Fake people are the worst people, people like this will uses you, manipulate you and lie to you. 12. It is ok to have no friends, there is a difference between being alone and being lonely. Eventually you will find a small social crowds with whom you will do everything with. 13. As Chris Gardner once said Plan B and C are rubbish, stick to your plan A and you will succeed. 14. People don’t always change; some do I am completely different now than 2 years ago. But some people I was at school with are the same, they are the same dickhead who likes to be funny by putting others down, people like that are stuck in their own little world to scared to realize that they have been left behind due to still being immature. 15. As I said in 11 and 4 if you don’t have fun you will regret it, I promise you, one of the friends I went with told me he regrets not smoking weed in Amsterdam or getting drunk on £1 beers in Budapest and wants to go again to have the experience he didn’t. Life is fun enjoy it while you can. 16. You will probably have that night where you go to a party or a night out in town where you’ll drink too much and get beyond the point of wasted, at the time you’ll feel like shit and regret it but after time for me it was a year it becomes something you and your friends laugh at especially when they tell you all the things you can’t remember. 17. “In game theory, it serves you to be two-faced. Be everyone's friend 'til the moment you're not. Make them love you so much that when they're up against you, their own loyalty will act against their own self-interests”. That's game theory. This was taken from one of my favourite TV series prison break. And I think it perfectly describes social interaction between teenagers and young adults. People will use you and you will use people even when that wasn’t your intention. I’ve been used by people id call my closest friends some did it intentionally some not. 18. Find a hobby there is no such thing as an odd or weird hobby, it allows you to find a common interest with people allowing you to make new friends and meet people, when I turned 18 my hobby was cigars, I’d go to various cigar lounges around London and meet people obviously they were older but the best thing about a cigar is the great conversation that comes with it. That’s just my opinion. 19. You will most likely regret the things you didn’t do not the things you did. Don’t dwell on the past and your previous mistakes focus on the present and the future. If there is someone you fancy, ask them out what’s the worst that will happen? They might say yes worst case they say no. but at least you tried. 20. At a nightclub or festival where your surrounded by people you don’t know, never except a drink from anyone if it wasn’t poured out Infront of you. First time I went clubbing I excepted a drink of champagne from someone I didn’t know in one of London’s busiest clubs I was lucky that it was fine. 21. Never shake someone’s hand sitting down and always grip firmly and make eye contact. 22. In a negation never make the first offer. 23. Take the time to talk to a homeless person, they sometimes have the most interesting stories and lessons to teach. Everyone falls on hard times, someone I spoke to was a veteran and ended up losing his home. 24. Friends come and go 25. Never stop in the pursuit of happiness 26. Loneliness isn’t forever. The most popular person may also feel alone. 27. It might not be a good life, but it’s your life so live it. 28. You can never please everyone, live for yourself and not others I know this is a long post but below I’ve left a summary of all the things I’ve done and experienced being a teenager (2012 – 2021) 11-12: Started secondary school where I made new friends and experienced a whole new environment including no more packed lunches. 12-13: Another year of secondary school, made it into the higher level classes for science and IT, at this point I started to experience bullying for the first time from the same person I was friends with the year before, I also entered my schools coding competition where we competed against the neighbouring school in who could create the best game on scratch. During this year I re-kindled a past friendship with someone from primary school whom I drifted apart from. We remain close to this day. (He won the coding competition with a moon landing game). Joined my school’s car mechanics club too. 13-14 3rd year of school, the bullying started getting worse. Applied for the bronze Duke of Edinburgh award ( for the non-brits here it’s an award scheme where the participant has to take part in volunteering, something physical a skill and finally a hiking expedition) no you don’t get to meet prince philip until you complete the gold award too. Picked my GCSE options. Had my first real crush (this was a fiasco in itself) as well as had my first kiss with someone else (another awful experience). 14-15 Aight cool year 10, time to start my GCSE studies and think about the future. The bullying reached its peak I lost it tried to fight him failed sort of, I got a few punched in before teachers came and pulled us apart, spent the rest of that day and the whole next day internal exclusion room, him too. (was oddly fun ngl), might I add that even the headteacher was aware of the bullying and didn’t care neither did the pastoral manager who when I told her about the first time told me to go away and grow up. Completed my Silver Duke of Edinburgh award. I never completed the last level (gold). 15-16 Woo last year of high school time to sit the exams that so many people think will ruin their lives if they fail. Yes the best you do will allow you to go on and do better things like a good university or doing the A levels you want, but it won’t stop you getting the career you want, you will just need to take a different path to get there like I did. Towards the summer I was getting ready to go on Israel tour my first time away from home for more than a week and to a new country without my family. For those of you that don’t know what Israel tour is, it is when you go to the state of Israel for 3 weeks maybe more depending on the tour organiser and see various sites such as the western wall, dead sea, Masada, ride camels in the desert, live on an army base for a few days as part of a small boot camp type thing (my favourite part) and much, much more. On this though I sadly realised that some people can’t be trusted and will stab you in the back, my “friend” liked the same person I did and instead of saying something to me he just spoke shit about me to her. 16-17 Secondary school, been there done that got the fucking t shirt. After not doing as well as I expected to in my GCSE exams, I had to change my plan slightly. I wanted to go into forensic science to do this I wanted to study level 3 Btec in applied science, but because I had failed 2 of my exams (the important ones) I had to do a level 2 course instead (same subject but lower level) during this year being in a new environment from the last I bought and smoked weed for the first time as well as getting my first hangover. During this year I was able to re sit my exams I passed 1 but still failed the other. I realised that the subject I was doing was no longer my passion. I got my first part time job as a receptionist so I could build my first gaming PC. My other close mate: after helping him meet his first girlfriend which by this point was at the 8- or 9-months mark, the 2 of them wanted to help me find someone. After fancying the same girl for the last 3 years at this point they introduced me to someone else, we were all away on a summer camp together so after being introduced we got talking for the next 4 whole days became really close only for on the last night before the big party for her friend to talk shit about me to her (seems to be a pattern here). A week later I had my second snog (kiss, make out, get with) with someone else (whatever u want to call it), this one was decent this happened to me on the NCS award (national citizen service) it’s like the Duke of Edinburgh award. 17-18 As I said before science was no longer what I wanted to do, so I changed to engineering at a new college (community college for the Americans). As I still didn’t have a C grade or above in my remaining GCSE exam, I had to do another level 2 course to pass. I got a new job as a waitekitchen assistant. started talking to another girl who in many ways she was a female version of me, we agreed on everything and got on well had so much in common it was unreal. My mate sadly broke up with his girlfriend so he was on the market too looking for someone else, I suggested to him that for his 18th he should throw a massive party, he agreed. I saw it as the perfect opportunity to make a move on the girl I was talking too; so, I invited her as my plus one. I got to his house early to help setup the house, she arrived about an hour later. I made a poor miss judgment that night and drunk about half a bottle of Russian standard vodka (no mixers). Being my drunk self I stumbled over to her and we began talking, then guess who comes over to us the same girl who cock blocked me previously and she does the god damn same, I have to admit me being as drunk as I was at That point definitely didn’t help. As you could I lost my shit at the person who yet again ruined something for me I went off on one in front of the whole goddamn party by this point the full force of my drinking hit me, I was unrollable cursing at the bitch who for the second time ruined something I had with someone. By this point the girl I invited left early, and my parents were called to pick me up. FYI the party stared at 8 I was home by 9 30 passed out. The girl I invited never spoke to me again I tried to apologise she didn’t really want much to do with me (understandable). My 18th I went clubbing for the first time and experienced a casino for the first time (played blackjack with £25 walked out with £120(I don’t encourage gambling, only play with what you can afford to lose)). The night club itself was something I didn’t enjoy all too much, main reason being there was only a few of us and the club was full of much older crowd than us, drinks where a fortune too, it was fun I enjoyed being out in the capital with my close mates at that time. It’s all about finding clubs that offer student nights where the crowd will be younger. Summertime, before the majority from my year head to university they all host a second school prom a reunion. This night again I learnt that people can and will be 2 faced if it serves them better. A girl who my mate had been helping me get talking to decided that the night before prom at a separate party he would make out with her himself (I was fine with that; I wasn’t at that party). I got invited to pre-drinks at this girls house the minute I walked in something felt off, it wasn’t until later I knew why; I found out my mate had made out with her the night before, unexpectedly he apologised to me (he didn’t need to, however I told him it was fine and move on) I was still hoping to get with her. 20 minutes later Infront of me the same mate of mine and the same girl were making out again (now I was pissed, first you apologise and then 20 minutes later do it Infront of me and everyone making me look like a mug). And again he apologises I played the bigger man held myself back from sparking him in the face and said that once is a mistake, 2 times is a slap in the face) this mate of mine was coming traveling with me 3 days later we didn’t speak until then. I went interrailing (traveling) through Europe with 4 mates that summer. 18-19 What was supposed to be my first year at university turned out to be another year at community college. This was also the start of where things got bad for me, by this point all my friends have had some sexual experience except me. My social crowd at this point is dwindling slowly at the time I didn’t notice I was just being left out more, (looking back, with some of my friends I was a background friend). I was finally on level 3 Btec engineering and have finally passed my last exam that I needed (took 4 attempts but if at first you don’t succeed try, try again). 19-20 (Present) Ok things are bad, I’ve realised that only 2 of my close mates are my only friends ( I walk a lonely road, the only one that I have ever known, don’t know where it goes but its home to me, I walk alone). I knew for a while since the previous summer that most of the people I trust and call my friends don’t care about me. I only ever spoke to them If I was lucky enough to be invited out on the rare occasion (I would usually have to be the one to make the effort). I wanted to rid of the people who don’t care about me, I never thought for a second 2 of my other close mates (separate from the ones I mentioned in 19-20, they will always be my close mates) would be the ones to go first. One of these mates was someone who I had so many memorise with, we went clubbing together, wingmen for each other, I allowed him to get off with someone at my house while I was asleep in the same room (didn’t know until the morning); and now since the start of the coronavirus pandemic we haven’t spoken or seen one another and is telling people it’s my fault. (he and many others know that if I have done something to upset someone I will always be happy to fix it, I hate beefing with people) I realised he didn’t care for me no more, the memories we had together meant so much to me and nothing to him, he’s part of a new social crowd most of them I know and have also tried to get close with but I was never able to. I know I did something wrong to make all these people pull away from me I just don’t know what, I run so many possible reasons through my head but none make sense or seem big enough to make to a huge social crowd no longer want me around (popularity baffles me, it’s one thing I’ve never been nor able to understand). Now in my FINAL year of college and looking at either looking at going to university to study either Aerospace or Electronics engineering, getting an apprenticeship or I may join the army or the royal air force. I kind of wish I studied law. All I really want for my self is a job I’m proud of, something that when someone asks what I do for a living I can tell them and not be embarrassed or ashamed and not have to lie or exaggerate about it. However, before coronavirus hit the UK badly, I started a new part time job in retail pays very well for what it is, and I get nice bonuses I still managed to keep it through the lockdown. Been predicted high grades for my course more than enough for my university choices and the apprenticeships schemes I want. As I said at the beginning, this isn’t goodbye. I’ll still be here offering advice where I see fit giving my wisdom to those who need it. Also, if any of you need to talk or any advice drop me a message on here and I’ll try my best to help. “life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all”
-u/randomhuman_23
Edit: i hope this doesn't get lost in new