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A Scratching at the Door (part 1/2)

2020.09.11 06:24 StygianSagas A Scratching at the Door (part 1/2)

It is my cathedral, my magnum opus- the culmination of two decades spent grinding my way through the most debauched and blasphemous practices and indulgences. It’s a thing of imposing grandeur most might shrug off as ominous or distasteful, like a soviet-era state edifice or a moldering abandoned hospital on an overcast hillside. It’s also seedy, just the right mix of ordered and disordered to tickle my mind and draw me into the rapturous atmosphere I have worked so hard to create within its walls. For years, I have retreated here when the weight of the world around me has beaten me low with its tedious, mundane goings-on, a last respite for a mind that never felt quite at home there. Fitting, then, that it will serve as my tomb.
Whoever stumbles across this account will find it in my home. From there, my cathedral is some two miles away, down the old logging trail that forks off from Whispering Pines Road. The dugout is near its terminus- a low, brooding bunker-like structure buried in the hills and blocked by a pair of rusted metal doors. I will leave these locked, but accessible via the key beneath this letter.
I don’t have any idea as to what the purpose of the modest dugout was originally, for it was barren when I found it two decades ago. Perhaps storage, for the nearest house is much too far away for it to serve effectively as a storm shelter. Regardless, the contents will be unharmed. I have committed crimes to attain the totems and relics I surround myself with, but while I might be a thief, I have always considered myself a borrower of items, rather than a taker of treasures. They may be redistributed to their proper places as authorities see fit to distribute them. Whoever first goes to the cathedral should mentally steel themselves for what they’ll find when they push through those heavy doors, though.
The collection began when I was a teenager. The first modest additions were items I acquired while delving in abandoned places of ill repute close to my hometown. I took a century-old diary from a moldering manor home in Louisville, and snagged a small bust dulled by time from a tottering school’s library in Lynch. As I grew in boldness, my taste for eerie and unsettling items grew more and more insatiable.
The gravestones of several notable Civil War-era dead were taken from Perryville, beginning the collection of headstones and memorial plaques of supposedly spectral figures that tile my cathedral’s walls. A bone saw, taken from a reportedly haunted hospital across the state line in Ironton, leans on a shelf against the skull of a folklore-rumored hermit-turned-warlock from the hills west of Ashland, which I dug up and preserved with great care after his remains had lurked in the ground for the better part of a century.
International connections may be needed to return some of the items, though, for I have done a fair bit of traveling in my time, always on the lookout for suitably evocative items for my gallery. The collection boasts, for example, a golden ring pulled from the bottom of a Yucatan cenote, where it rested amongst the honored sacrificial dead piled there during the golden age of the Maya. It rests upon the index finger of an unnaturally large mummified hand treasured by a twisted group of scholarly mountainside cultists in Tibet, who believed it to be the withered claw of a woman from the fabled subterranean realm of Patala. All this shall be catalogued in the most intimate detail which my memory allows, and I will denote the dates and locations at which each item was acquired, from the most modest small-town tombstone to the most exotic ‘cursed’ statuette or storied murder weapon.
I won’t get too bogged down in all that here, though. You’ll find that list in the cathedral, along with whatever remains of me. The purpose of this text is to dissuade anyone from touching or tampering with, in any way, a certain item I’ve hidden away in a long-forgotten mine not terribly far from here. The entrance will be collapsed, a feat which will charge me no small amount of work, and it desperately needs to stay that way. I only bother to mention this item at all because, for reasons that will become evident, I am unsure whether it will stay put down there in the wake of my death.
Any perusing these pages would be justified in wondering what all the fuss is about, so I’ll lay out the story as clearly as I’m able, starting with why I even had cause to come in contact with the wretched thing in the first place. Some years into my darker explorations and trophy taking, exploiting a long interest in the darker side of paranormal speculation and occult practices, I began to experiment here and there with immersing myself in the kinds of provocative groups that often congregated around the places I visited. In college I visited a local quarry notorious for suicidal leaps with some of my fellow students on Halloween for a very stereotypical drunk layman’s séance. It produced nothing tangible in terms of unexplainable experiences, but electrified me with the mood -the atmosphere- that accompanied our silly ritual when it was performed in so ominous a setting.
Branching out from there, I found equally atmospheric experiences by hitching my wagon to various occult groups across my region, the most longstanding relation being with a nameless group of pagan revivalists in Cave City. They stoked my need for taboo moods with spectacular solstice sacrifices of live bullocks during firelight ceremonies in the cave systems across the county.
Over the years, I built up a book of contacts who shared my fascination, or at least held a belief in eldritch ritual and ample enough contacts to put me in a position to experience and partake in their rites. I never developed any belief that anything I was doing had any impact in the material sense, however.
Chasing these rituals and gatherings was to me purely a folkloric, atmospheric exercise, a passionate and exciting interest that sweetened my existence in a world I found comparatively drab. When I witnessed a group of isolated townspeople in the arid interior of Tunisia burn a live lamb on a bed of coals before an ancient horned statue in the hills under a full moon, I was under no illusions that I had made contact with Baal Hammon. Rather, I could imagine for the briefest hour that I stood in Carthage before it’s fall. I could feel the exaltations and excesses of the men and women of that lost land in a way that few others, even amongst our great but fast-decaying scholarly institutions, will ever know. In this way, I liked to pretend that my pursuits were entirely anthropological in nature, an extended study in the collection and interpretation of dark folklore.
There was a small, sequestered portion of my mind, however, that had less rational motivations. Whenever a promising message would come my way, titillating me at the thought of potential reality behind all the shadowy pageantry of these ritual outings, I would jump at the chance to experience the kinds of raw emotion -fear, awe, or otherwise- that were so often whispered about in occult gatherings. I wanted some taste of the beyond, whatever that happened to be, and a chance discovery I made in July seemed to promise that very thing. It was this call to the unknown that set me on the path towards my final resting place in the cathedral.
Several months ago, a contact I made years back while visiting radical underground pagan organizations in Europe and with whom I had shared deep if infrequent correspondence was mentioned in passing by a mutual acquaintance, and it came up that he hadn’t been heard from in some months. I wrote to him and, when calls and emails went unanswered, I resolved to make the trip east to his home in the mountains of western Maryland to see him in person. Even among circles as prone to weirdness and reclusiveness as mine, it was odd for someone to go entirely dark. The nature of my interests -and those of my friend, for that matter- meant that the hunger for understanding ears to speak to was endless. For someone to wholly disconnect from the people who were best able to understand his eldritch obsessions and habits was an act of self-isolation above and beyond anything I or most I inquired with had ever witnessed.
When I arrived at his modest home west of Cumberland, I found it deserted in an odd state, with the front door unlocked and unsecure but the windows boarded up as if a hurricane were soon due on the mountainside. His shotgun lay tossed on the couch in the front room as I entered the building, and by the looks of the place, he had been holed up there for some time, sequestered off from the rest of the house. The doorway to the basement was boarded up, as was his adjoining bedroom and the back door onto the porch, which left only the front door accessible, and even that seemed to have been secured until recently. With his front sitting room space and a combined kitchen cut off like that, he’d set himself up to sleep on his couch and over the intervening days built up a fearful mess of discarded food and hastily-rifled books and papers.
Upon forcing my way into the basement, I found the sparse furniture and stored books and pictures tossed and turned, but nothing missing. The shotgun resting in the front room above had been fired several times into the walls, but had apparently stricken nothing, for there was no trace of blood or injury to be discovered.
Such disorder was worrying, for he had been an orderly and reserved man. What worried me more, however, was that there were no signs of forced entry. His old truck still sat rusting in the gravel driveway, the keys tucked under the driver’s seat as was his custom. The boarding and locks holding shut the front door had been calmly removed and unlatched from within, and there was not a single sign of disturbance in his makeshift fortress that would suggest someone had laid siege to the house to take him or his belongings. After locking himself in his front room for days, perhaps weeks, he had finally freed himself and walked out into the dense, mountainous woodland surrounding the house with no gun, no shoes, no keys, and no truck.
I set about investigating myself, hesitant to involve the authorities for obvious reasons. It was one thing to call up mutual associates to check whether there was any consensus on what he had been up to in the days prior to his confinement, but it was quite another to allow police to intrude on his property and potentially discover some macabre collection similar to my own that I’d been unaware of. Call after call came back inconclusive and shrouded in uncertainty, leaving me less and less convinced as the evening wore on that he would simply stumble out of the darkening woodline any minute fresh off some spectacular hallucinogenic trip, angry at my intrusion into his home. Then, as the sun dipped below the hunched, wood-cloaked mountains, my friend’s ancient land line received a call, sending me stumbling inside at a run from the porch, and plunging me into roiling chaos.
The initial exchange seemed innocuous enough, considering what was to follow. Speaking accented but practiced English, a man asked after the whereabouts of my friend. I was initially hesitant to be fully forthright with this stranger, but when he voluntarily betrayed that my friend had been in Myanmar by asking how he had been since his return, I felt it was necessary to probe just a little. I asked when my friend had departed and, upon realizing his return to the states must have been immediately followed by his recent descent into paranoid compound fortification, I inquired whether he’d seemed distressed or ill in the days leading up to his return home. Those simple questions were somehow all the man on the other end of the line needed to hear, for his response was to ask if he had gone missing.
“I warned him,” the voice muttered. “I warned him not to go up into the mountains. I knew it must be bad, for him to stay so quiet after leaving.”
The exchange that followed couldn’t have totaled more than ten minutes, but my constant reflection on it over the intervening weeks has stretched it into an hours-long ordeal, remembered verbatim and retrievable down to a syllable. At my insistence, he told me of the witching circles he occupied in Yangon, and of my friend’s keen interest in them. As evasive as I had been with exact details, he described a trip through the country organized for my friend by contacts in the region, a sort of whirlwind tour of debauched and culturally subterranean experiences. This trip had apparently terminated in an ill-advised trek into the mountainous north of the country, that the speaker and his local Yangon brethren had absolutely refused to attend.
“There are ruins in the hills,” he told me, the disgust plain in his voice. “Sacked and toppled by the kings of Pagan, and with good reason. None should travel there.”
For centuries, people both local to the region and native to other provinces of Burma had stayed clear of the place. The longstanding curse placed upon it by the Pagan kings of old was bolstered here and there by the hushed retelling of another tale of woe sparked when a foreign traveler or urban youth from the south insisted on seeing the forbidden heights. Reiterated in the flesh of modernity just as it would’ve been recited those centuries ago from atop the peacock throne of Burma, the man warned me with hushed tones not to look into my friend’s final days, to burn any of his private writings, and to leave the dead to lie. He then hung up, the whole thing feeling for all the world like an establishing scene out of a century-old horror story.
That is precisely what made it impossible for me to heed his warnings.
Even as I looked over the domestic devastation around me left in the aftermath of just such a visit, I understood every ounce of thought that had driven my friend to make the trip into the mountains. These unnamed ruins, haunted by shadowy legendry so fierce an occultist guide among fellow occultists would not risk their ancient paths, were everything a chaser of the extravagant could dream to see. Initially worried for my friend, the realization that it had grown dark outside now breathed some level of fear into me, only heightening the racing of my thoughts.
Had he not boarded up his home, then thrashed and shot at some unknown force in the basement, only to run away into the woods? What, should I decide to stay there through the night, would I find?
These were the sort of thoughts that would’ve driven a reasonable man out of the house and down the little mountain road into the security of town, but I, as attested to by the stolen gravestones and human remains which shall soon surround my corpse in the cathedral, am not a reasonable man. I set about a fevered examination of the books and notes with which my friend had occupied himself during his voluntary imprisonment, and left messages with all the contacts I had garnered over a lifetime’s probing the obscure and obscene who I thought might have any knowledge of use to me. After all, with nothing else to work from, this scrap of tantalizing information was the only hope of learning what befell my companion, and discovering whether the unknown caller’s pessimism on that score was justified. The ominous connotations of that information were just an added incentive.
The night was a long, tedious affair, with several breaks taken for no better reason than to calm my nerves and assure there was nothing lurking in the unlit kitchen or creeping up the now exposed basement staircase. Nothing save the atmosphere of the little house was amiss, though, and the night ultimately proved enlightening. From a battered notebook well worn by continued visits from its owner over the years, I learned about my friend’s obsession with the concept of the Nat, a kind of mythic Burmese-Buddhist spirit, or deity. Writing using a cypher popularized by the Golden Dawn with which many in my circles will be familiar, he had been jotting down notes regarding the origination of the currently recognized pantheon of thirty-seven Nat, and on unofficial, more local Nat, revered or feared by populations of certain towns and villages spread here and there across the interior of Myanmar.
It was a history in which I was not versed, for Myanmar had never come up as a focal point of occult or otherwise weird significance, but he’d developed a fascination with rumors of a cult in the remote north of the country centered on a Nat of such wickedness that it had single-handedly spurred the attempted banning of local Nat offerings. This being was supposedly the reason for instituting the official pantheon of thirty-seven instituted some thousand years ago, after the end of the first millennium.
Scattered across the margins of Cambridge and Oxford histories of Southeast Asia and several more journals filled with scribbled code, I learned the story of King Anawrahta, founder of the first unified Burmese empire, and a figure seemingly obsessed with the imposition of Buddhist religious order overtop of the native faiths of his land. In the texts of academia, the reason given for this ranged from expanding state control over local governance to enriching the crown through more reliable religious taxation. Notes from my friend on correspondence with local occultists and their own books of speculative history painted a different, altogether darker picture.
Folk tales from the jungle-choked hills in the north of the country joined longstanding occult traditions in laying the blame for this crackdown on local rituals at the feet of a reviled figure called Paunggkuu, whose name is closely linked to the modern Burmese word for spider.
Paunggkuu, known by no other name or title, is shadowed by many rumored pasts and motives, with some tales alleging he was a noble member of a local clan whose prosperity was shattered by the expansion of the king’s empire in the south, turning he and his family to blood offerings and shadowy rites in hopes of bettering their fortunes. Still others believe he was a Nat-possessed vagrant, a nobody raised from nothing by a wicked spirit to great infamy only to just as quickly be tossed aside- an expendable mortal shell for a being which had long lurked in the mountains. Many more hinted origins exist, but the outcome of the rise of Paunggkuu is always the same, with the mundane man-turned-warlock leading a cult of several hundred followers into a megalithic ruined city tucked away in the trees, where they began to prey on the surrounding countryside.
Village youths started to go missing, and over time, whole rural communities were stripped clean of inhabitants. Rippling outwards from the ruined city, the locals spoke in hushed whispers of a creeping death, a diabolical Nat or witch in the guise of a monster who haunted the spaces beneath raised houses and huts at night, and whose disgusting visage appeared to the locals in nightmare night after sleepless night. So great was the fear brought about by this shadowy plague of disappearances that the regional seat of power, the small city of Mogaung, was forced to take notice. Its kingly high priest, himself a vassal and ally of the powerful King Anawrahta in the south, sent men into the region to quell the disorder and bring those responsible to justice. When those men, too, had gone missing, an army of several hundred was raised, and when that had failed to report back, the priest sent desperate word to Pagan, petitioning the king for aid.
Anawrahta, occupied with other matters in the south, failed to answer with speed, but was spurred to action by a dark event sometime around the middle of 1057, when a nighttime raid on the outskirts of Mogaung itself drove the priest to flee south to the capital, where he took up exiled residence in Pagan with his suzerain. This attack, which was laid at the feet of bandits in official records, did not topple the city or level any temples, but its nature was so horrid that Anawrahta put a momentary halt to his campaigns of unification and consolidation to march north with more than five thousand men, riding upon a gold-girdled war elephant and leading the host in person.
The events which followed seem singularly terrible, and the narrative presented in the royal chronicles of Pagan of a bandit revolt quashed by the glorious armies of Anawrahta does little to explain why all but a thousand of the men sent into the jungle never came back. It does nothing to explain why local Kachin legend speaks of the mortified screams which echoed down from the hills being audible even now on certain moonlit nights, when the skies are right. Bandits, after all, couldn’t have spurred a burgeoning kingdom with more enemies than allies to spend half a year leveling an ancient stone city, and the rest of the century burying its name and history by burning books and sundering stone carvings.
The sun rose over the Maryland hills, and with it, I found myself reverberating with not only a new grasp of a strange land’s lore and legendry, but of my aims moving forward. Several contacts of my friend’s had agreed to come search for him and continue looking into the mounds of documentation he had compiled. While they got on the road and began their long drives, a Javanese associate who had led me on an extravagant tour of ancient fire-cults still in practice on the remoter regions of that island contacted a friend at my behest. This friend initiated a chain of further connections from friend to friend until I was speaking with a Burmese Buddhist monk-turned-animist wiseman, who knew of the rumored city in the north.
Though he dissuaded me from my stated aim of visiting the site in search of answers, he agreed to meet me in Yangon upon my arrival and place me in contact with locals of the northern Kachin province who could aid me in getting transport and supplies in so remote a region. I purchased my tickets that morning for a chain of flights leaving out of Washington D.C. that evening, and after leaving a scribbled note for my vanished friend in the off chance he resurface before his other companions arrived, I piled into my car without a wink of sleep to drive for the capital.
I cannot entirely give voice to the feelings which drove my movements throughout the day. Exhaustion did not catch up to me until well into the initial flight from Washington to Japan, and even then, sleep came in fitful bursts. I was too busy pouring over hastily-copied scraps of information left by my friend, staring holes in satellite images of northern Myanmar, and memorizing a few helpful words of the Burmese language to even consider how I felt. The whole of the scenario seemed like some great initial stage in an epic drama, and my worry at the sudden disappearance of a close friend and associate in the pursuit of strangeness had fast been molded together with an urge to see what he must’ve seen, and to feel whatever had spurred the paranoia he must’ve felt during those last, manic days in the closed front room.
It would be trite of me to proclaim now what a fool I was for being so blind, so eager to face the unknown. Moreover, it wouldn’t be entirely honest. Even now, as I prepare to do what must be done, I can recognize that what I found in Myanmar was exactly the sort of thing I had been searching for throughout the long and confused span of years that led me into the jungles of rural Kachin, and I can’t claim I regret taking the journey. I can only regret that my friend had to suffer what he did to show me the path, and that both he and I proved too fragile to tolerate the thing which followed us home.
I met with my contact after a lengthy but fitful sleep at the cheapest hotel I could book once landed and settled in Yangon. After another lengthy attempt to dissuade me from my course outside a tiny local café which featured florid stories about regional Kachin Independence Army rebels, he sketched out a travel itinerary which would take me first by bus, then by locally arranged jeep up precarious roads to the tiny settlement of Sumprabum, in the farthest northern reaches of the nation. The way was precarious at times, with the aged dirt roads never failing to buck and rock the buses this way and that on the precipices of the scrub-choked cliff faces they hugged. The locals, bundled in like canned fish with a painfully conspicuous foreigner among them, mostly rode in sleepy silence through nearly two days of travel, leaving me to wonder whether I was the only one worried by the idea of toppling over the edge. It wouldn’t do, after all, to come so close to the unknown only to die in a bus crash.
Worry proved pointless, however, and I ended up in a tiny, flea-ridden bunk in Sumprabum a couple days after setting out from Maryland, my eyes scanning the tree-shrouded hills through the mist from my perch on the porch of a catholic mission as they reluctantly allowed me some much-needed sleep. It would be the first real rest I’d had since prior to my fateful road trip-turned-world excursion began. It would later prove to be the final mundane, dreamless sleep I would ever experience, but in my exhausted anticipation, I didn’t take any time to savor it.
Awakening plucked and prodded by mosquitoes but otherwise feeling prepared for anything, I made my way to a modest logger’s house of sheet metal and crude timber, where I met my local guide. He was an older man still steely with a laborer’s wiry muscle who the entire gathering of homes called Saya, something close to teacher. With my night owl’s pale skin, my relatively impressive height and my profuse sweating at the unaccustomed humidity, I must’ve looked like some traveling alien jester to the village’s locals, and we’d soon gathered a sizable crowd of onlookers as we talked over the plan for the day’s hike. I would pay a small sum to his family for his aid and the food and water he would furnish me with for the night I wanted to spend in the ruins, and then he would lead me on foot about twenty miles to the northwest into the forest, over hills and through valleys, until we arrived at the place the local Kachin population had dubbed Pyethceehon.
The name was only ever spoken in wavering tones of disgust and fear, and the assigning of so alien a name, alongside my newfound proximity to the place my friend had been only a short while ago, filled me with nervous apprehension for the first time since my entry into his home back in the states. While that vestigial, reptile-brained warning of danger to come was enough to put me on edge, it came nowhere close to drowning out my higher aspirations towards intrigue and awe. To be so close to the unknown was an ecstasy I hadn’t found in all my years of searching, and I was not about to abandon that sensation now.
Saya set a firm pace up what initially were muddy and brutally-sloped logging roads through the hills. After several hours we branched off and forded into the sea of trees. The undergrowth and tree trunks combined into a morass which looked absolutely identical to my untrained eye for hour after hour, but by nothing more than his memory of the landscape and the feel of the hills beneath his flip-flop clad feet, Saya pressed through. He always seemed to know just the right place to squeeze through a looming wall of interwoven trees or a jam of fallen logs in a creek bed. Our entire trip was scored by his thickly-accented English telling story after story about the sizes of snakes that could be found here or the density of the ant hives choking the ground there, interspersed with assurances that I could turn back at any time with but a word to him if I lost my nerve. I responded and questioned him when I could, but I was winded and broken by the endless ascents and descents we made despite years of avid hiking back home, and my spaces between strained breaths were few and far between.
He told me of several disappearances of hunters and scouts for logging outfits in the area, but nothing had transpired near the ruins in recent memory. So dark was their reputation that throughout the militia-driven guerrilla warfare which had preceded my arrival for several years, not one camp or troop movement had been made around or through Pyethceehon, whether by loyalist or separatist forces. Saya was the only man in the area that had come close in the past five or six decades, and even he never dared go the final mile or two towards the old settlement in the trees.
The first visit was a childhood expedition in search of village chickens spooked into the jungle by a storm, which had ended in him accidentally stumbling across the stream which babbled downhill from the hilltop upon which Pyethceehon brooded. The second was to lead my friend to the stony banks of that very same stream.
On arriving, the brave man made me the same offer he’d made my friend, standing with his hands on his hips and offering to come with me into the ruins if I felt I needed him there. It was an offer made through a face haunted by the very syllables formed in making the offer, and I couldn’t bring myself to ask Saya along.
Thanking him for his kindness, I made certain of the time I was to meet him tomorrow and departed for the legend-haunted wreck atop the low mountain, with afternoon long having set in. Our pace had been slowed by my pondering progress, and I knew the few remaining hours of daylight would provide more than enough time for the savvy Saya to reach the logging roads and be well on his way to the village by nightfall. The prospect of a night alone on this unknown precipice only set in when thirty minutes of hiking up the creek bed had secured my isolation. I gripped the little revolver I’d been given to ward off tigers with a tight desperation I had never before experienced. All the while, my tired legs carried me that last mile into Pyethceehon.
I was more vibrant and alive in those terrified minutes than I had ever been before. I pity my friend, for having been the very first outsider in a century to visit the place had denied him the experience of knowing some specter of the danger that lurked there firsthand. While he must’ve felt the weight of the ruin’s reputation and atmosphere, only I knew the fate of a personal friend who had come before. It lit a fire in my stomach so intense I chewed the interior of my cheek raw in jittery anticipation of reaching the summit, my wavering legs finding new strength as my destination neared.
During my hurried in-flight preparations for this moment, I had scoured pictures, satellite images and documentary footage of great Burmese temple and stupa sites like Bagan, wanting to be accustomed to the kind of structures I might find upon arrival. I had expected crumbling but mighty dome-and-spire edifices like those, but what I found was altogether alien. The structures of Pyethceehon were much more like the small, tightly-packed, cone-roofed structures of lesser-known Nyaung Ohak far to the south.
Its avenues were only a few feet wide, choked between hundreds of huddled monuments and teeming with hungry plant growth, the few untoppled stone peaks reaching no further than fifteen or twenty feet into the branch-strangled sky. Many of them leaned, their bases sinking into the stone of the ground as the passing of ten centuries remolded the very Earth beneath their feet. It was the material, though, that shocked me so, making me think I had wandered into some mighty forest of vine-blackened prehistoric teeth as I crested the hill and stumbled into that outpost of blasphemy.
The stone was not the reddish-brown of most of the nation’s monuments, nor the sandy, water-aged brown of monuments elsewhere in the near and far east. It was not the marble of rich classical sculpture or the placid limestone grey of contemplative new-world step pyramids and old-world castles. Rather, it was the shiny and rippling surface of masterfully-shaped obsidian, their rain-polished surfaces staring back in rank after rank at me through the scrub- looking for all the world like massive, teeming ant mounds.
The play of the sun through the canopy above off the slightly uneven surfaces even lent them the illusion of motion, as of water bubbling in rapids over a bank of piled stones, or, perhaps more appropriately, of millions of chitinous ant bodies amassing to repel an intruder. Their mostly conical spires were shingled with tiny interlocking plates of jade, weathered by centuries until it was almost muted, looking grey against the greens of the jungle.
I lingered there on the precipice for a long while, telling myself I needed to catch my breath, but knowing with every second I spent looking into the distance down those accursed rows that it was something much less explicable that kept my body frozen among the warm trees. It is only now, removed from the stress and excitement of the scene, that I can guess at what unspoken and unrecognized force halted my progress. Though I might not have been able to give voice to why at the time, I knew deep down that the conditions for obsidian to exist at all were not right here.
Obsidian was not among the pantheon of materials found in the jewelry, weapons or art of Southeast Asia, and that was because the nearest region with the right kind of volcanic activity to generate the substance at all lay thousands of miles away across the south china sea, on the island of Papua. I remember vividly having it pointed out as a commodity unique to the isle in my travels through Indonesia years before. What on Earth the glistening void-dark rock was doing in Myanmar remains far beyond me, but the grooved and layered construction of it, along with the faintly rough and uneven breaks in the glass-like surfaces where it had been so carefully shaped, told me it could be nothing else.
When at last my legs were moving beneath me again, I found winding my way through the obsidian forest testing at every moment my resolution to be there. Each stupa was littered with carvings, almost all of them pictographic, and almost all of these featuring the crouching forms of spiders. The largest, however, dotted every ten or twelve structures along the overgrown path I had chosen to follow, held another, more tantalizingly sinister image.
The first time I passed one of these carvings, I kept moving, my mind rushing to place why I recoiled on such an instinctive level from those particular figures amidst a legion of equally disturbing sights and sensations. Upon reaching a second rendition of the image, though, I opened my pack and flipped through my friend’s notebooks, desperate to confirm my suspicions. It didn’t take long to find his own rendition of the image, half-remembered in my nervous state, scrawled on the back cover of a cheap, weathered notebook.
The thing was a gaunt, thin, gangly creature, reminiscent of a man, but twisted and bent nearly beyond recognition. Its legs looked almost stick-like, ending in pointed barbs, and its torso sprouted three pairs of arms, evoking the image of sword-wielding Hindu gods. The arms sported one more joint than the single natural elbow showed by human beings, and each pair of them was held high in an awkward, exaggerated shrug- like a father aping a silent film-era monster to spook his children. This gave me the initial, erroneous impression that the many arms were the skeletal structure of unfurled wings. Each came to a blade-like point, just like the feet, with each lower pair slightly shorter than the last. The head -or what should have been a head- was by far the worst of it, though, and to think of it now in light of what I know makes me wonder beyond wonder that I stayed in that ruin at all.
Where a head should be, there was merely an aperture at the top of the torso, a large fang-lined mouth that ran like a zipper from where the back of a neck would’ve been to where the sternum should begin. Around it, unfurled and given the illusion of squirming motion by both the impromptu sketch artist and the ancient sculptors, were multiple layers of the sort of stunted forelegs that flank a tarantula’s mouth.
With the afternoon wearing on, I slowly pieced the shattered remnants of my aesthete’s zeal for the unusual back together. Wandering familiarized me with the two square miles or so that constituted the remnants of this little graveyard of forbidden worship, the knowledge I gained of its layout fortifying me with a sense of distant belonging I knew full well would disappear as soon as the sun sank beneath the horizon. Radiating inward like the strands of a great web, the avenues of the place all lead to a single center point where some massive temple or palace complex had once stood. It was here that I began to set up a modest little camp to wait out the night, piling what scant dry firewood I found and clearing undergrowth so that any insects or snakes would be scared out and away from my position.
The old temple was nothing save a foundation long sunk into the murky earth, its bottom littered with mud and stone from the superstructure, leaving only stalagmite-like fragments of its black obsidian walls to poke outward from the debris. It was in the protective shadow of one of these that I settled down, piling several more natural stones as a makeshift seat only after I ensured that none of the images of the damnable spider-thing were in view of my perch.
The final couple hours before nightfall felt like minutes, for time flew past with a speed only dread can create. I reflected, as I sat waiting for the proper moment to begin burning my small reserve of firewood, that there had been little in the way of totems or objects in the ruins. Most of the buildings had been stupas, too small to inhabit or enter, and the temple behind me had long ago been toppled in Pagan’s raid upon the despised cult. The sculptures, really the only testament to the past nature of this place, were repetitive, mimicking in stonework the kind of mantra repetitions witnessed in Buddhist or animist ceremonies.
I flipped through my catalogue of hastily-acquired knowledge, often referencing my friend’s notes and the books to which he’d clung, trying to recall anything which might help me retrace his steps in this dark corner of the Earth. I found none, for his notes said nothing of his actual expedition, and the treatments of this place in text and legend were so frightful and vague that there was little to work from. There were no signs of my friend in the avenues of shadowy Pyethceehon, just as there were no signs of the day-to-day lives of its ancient residents. The jungle had swallowed this vile place, and in another millennia, there would likely be nothing left to visit here.
Beyond the lack of information on my missing friend, I found my motivation consumed as the sunset got underway by an exhaustion which was entirely unlike me. Thoroughly unnerved and in a place unfamiliar to me, I should’ve been wide awake, ready to weather an entire night of vigilant, guarded listening over my fire. Instead, as the sky’s oranges darkened the shadows of the surrounding trees and scrub, turning the ranked stupas into ominous silhouettes which seemed to creep towards me through the encroaching trees, my usual explorer’s thrill at the unknown was extinguished. Each blink came as a labored exertion while I breathed life into the little woodpile before me.
Exacerbating this, I became aware of an impenetrable quiet hanging over the thinned mountaintop clearing in which Pyethceehon had brooded all these centuries. It was as if the very mosquitoes in the air knew not to disturb the slumber of such an ill-fated and ill-tempered beast as this.
I was in for a tense night.
submitted by StygianSagas to LovecraftianWriting [link] [comments]


2020.09.11 06:22 StygianSagas A Scratching at the Door [part 1]

It is my cathedral, my magnum opus- the culmination of two decades spent grinding my way through the most debauched and blasphemous practices and indulgences. It’s a thing of imposing grandeur most might shrug off as ominous or distasteful, like a soviet-era state edifice or a moldering abandoned hospital on an overcast hillside. It’s also seedy, just the right mix of ordered and disordered to tickle my mind and draw me into the rapturous atmosphere I have worked so hard to create within its walls. For years, I have retreated here when the weight of the world around me has beaten me low with its tedious, mundane goings-on, a last respite for a mind that never felt quite at home there. Fitting, then, that it will serve as my tomb.
Whoever stumbles across this account will find it in my home. From there, my cathedral is some two miles away, down the old logging trail that forks off from Whispering Pines Road. The dugout is near its terminus- a low, brooding bunker-like structure buried in the hills and blocked by a pair of rusted metal doors. I will leave these locked, but accessible via the key beneath this letter.
I don’t have any idea as to what the purpose of the modest dugout was originally, for it was barren when I found it two decades ago. Perhaps storage, for the nearest house is much too far away for it to serve effectively as a storm shelter. Regardless, the contents will be unharmed. I have committed crimes to attain the totems and relics I surround myself with, but while I might be a thief, I have always considered myself a borrower of items, rather than a taker of treasures. They may be redistributed to their proper places as authorities see fit to distribute them. Whoever first goes to the cathedral should mentally steel themselves for what they’ll find when they push through those heavy doors, though.
The collection began when I was a teenager. The first modest additions were items I acquired while delving in abandoned places of ill repute close to my hometown. I took a century-old diary from a moldering manor home in Louisville, and snagged a small bust dulled by time from a tottering school’s library in Lynch. As I grew in boldness, my taste for eerie and unsettling items grew more and more insatiable.
The gravestones of several notable Civil War-era dead were taken from Perryville, beginning the collection of headstones and memorial plaques of supposedly spectral figures that tile my cathedral’s walls. A bone saw, taken from a reportedly haunted hospital across the state line in Ironton, leans on a shelf against the skull of a folklore-rumored hermit-turned-warlock from the hills west of Ashland, which I dug up and preserved with great care after his remains had lurked in the ground for the better part of a century.
International connections may be needed to return some of the items, though, for I have done a fair bit of traveling in my time, always on the lookout for suitably evocative items for my gallery. The collection boasts, for example, a golden ring pulled from the bottom of a Yucatan cenote, where it rested amongst the honored sacrificial dead piled there during the golden age of the Maya. It rests upon the index finger of an unnaturally large mummified hand treasured by a twisted group of scholarly mountainside cultists in Tibet, who believed it to be the withered claw of a woman from the fabled subterranean realm of Patala. All this shall be catalogued in the most intimate detail which my memory allows, and I will denote the dates and locations at which each item was acquired, from the most modest small-town tombstone to the most exotic ‘cursed’ statuette or storied murder weapon.
I won’t get too bogged down in all that here, though. You’ll find that list in the cathedral, along with whatever remains of me. The purpose of this text is to dissuade anyone from touching or tampering with, in any way, a certain item I’ve hidden away in a long-forgotten mine not terribly far from here. The entrance will be collapsed, a feat which will charge me no small amount of work, and it desperately needs to stay that way. I only bother to mention this item at all because, for reasons that will become evident, I am unsure whether it will stay put down there in the wake of my death.
Any perusing these pages would be justified in wondering what all the fuss is about, so I’ll lay out the story as clearly as I’m able, starting with why I even had cause to come in contact with the wretched thing in the first place. Some years into my darker explorations and trophy taking, exploiting a long interest in the darker side of paranormal speculation and occult practices, I began to experiment here and there with immersing myself in the kinds of provocative groups that often congregated around the places I visited. In college I visited a local quarry notorious for suicidal leaps with some of my fellow students on Halloween for a very stereotypical drunk layman’s séance. It produced nothing tangible in terms of unexplainable experiences, but electrified me with the mood -the atmosphere- that accompanied our silly ritual when it was performed in so ominous a setting.
Branching out from there, I found equally atmospheric experiences by hitching my wagon to various occult groups across my region, the most longstanding relation being with a nameless group of pagan revivalists in Cave City. They stoked my need for taboo moods with spectacular solstice sacrifices of live bullocks during firelight ceremonies in the cave systems across the county.
Over the years, I built up a book of contacts who shared my fascination, or at least held a belief in eldritch ritual and ample enough contacts to put me in a position to experience and partake in their rites. I never developed any belief that anything I was doing had any impact in the material sense, however.
Chasing these rituals and gatherings was to me purely a folkloric, atmospheric exercise, a passionate and exciting interest that sweetened my existence in a world I found comparatively drab. When I witnessed a group of isolated townspeople in the arid interior of Tunisia burn a live lamb on a bed of coals before an ancient horned statue in the hills under a full moon, I was under no illusions that I had made contact with Baal Hammon. Rather, I could imagine for the briefest hour that I stood in Carthage before it’s fall. I could feel the exaltations and excesses of the men and women of that lost land in a way that few others, even amongst our great but fast-decaying scholarly institutions, will ever know. In this way, I liked to pretend that my pursuits were entirely anthropological in nature, an extended study in the collection and interpretation of dark folklore.
There was a small, sequestered portion of my mind, however, that had less rational motivations. Whenever a promising message would come my way, titillating me at the thought of potential reality behind all the shadowy pageantry of these ritual outings, I would jump at the chance to experience the kinds of raw emotion -fear, awe, or otherwise- that were so often whispered about in occult gatherings. I wanted some taste of the beyond, whatever that happened to be, and a chance discovery I made in July seemed to promise that very thing. It was this call to the unknown that set me on the path towards my final resting place in the cathedral.
Several months ago, a contact I made years back while visiting radical underground pagan organizations in Europe and with whom I had shared deep if infrequent correspondence was mentioned in passing by a mutual acquaintance, and it came up that he hadn’t been heard from in some months. I wrote to him and, when calls and emails went unanswered, I resolved to make the trip east to his home in the mountains of western Maryland to see him in person. Even among circles as prone to weirdness and reclusiveness as mine, it was odd for someone to go entirely dark. The nature of my interests -and those of my friend, for that matter- meant that the hunger for understanding ears to speak to was endless. For someone to wholly disconnect from the people who were best able to understand his eldritch obsessions and habits was an act of self-isolation above and beyond anything I or most I inquired with had ever witnessed.
When I arrived at his modest home west of Cumberland, I found it deserted in an odd state, with the front door unlocked and unsecure but the windows boarded up as if a hurricane were soon due on the mountainside. His shotgun lay tossed on the couch in the front room as I entered the building, and by the looks of the place, he had been holed up there for some time, sequestered off from the rest of the house. The doorway to the basement was boarded up, as was his adjoining bedroom and the back door onto the porch, which left only the front door accessible, and even that seemed to have been secured until recently. With his front sitting room space and a combined kitchen cut off like that, he’d set himself up to sleep on his couch and over the intervening days built up a fearful mess of discarded food and hastily-rifled books and papers.
Upon forcing my way into the basement, I found the sparse furniture and stored books and pictures tossed and turned, but nothing missing. The shotgun resting in the front room above had been fired several times into the walls, but had apparently stricken nothing, for there was no trace of blood or injury to be discovered.
Such disorder was worrying, for he had been an orderly and reserved man. What worried me more, however, was that there were no signs of forced entry. His old truck still sat rusting in the gravel driveway, the keys tucked under the driver’s seat as was his custom. The boarding and locks holding shut the front door had been calmly removed and unlatched from within, and there was not a single sign of disturbance in his makeshift fortress that would suggest someone had laid siege to the house to take him or his belongings. After locking himself in his front room for days, perhaps weeks, he had finally freed himself and walked out into the dense, mountainous woodland surrounding the house with no gun, no shoes, no keys, and no truck.
I set about investigating myself, hesitant to involve the authorities for obvious reasons. It was one thing to call up mutual associates to check whether there was any consensus on what he had been up to in the days prior to his confinement, but it was quite another to allow police to intrude on his property and potentially discover some macabre collection similar to my own that I’d been unaware of. Call after call came back inconclusive and shrouded in uncertainty, leaving me less and less convinced as the evening wore on that he would simply stumble out of the darkening woodline any minute fresh off some spectacular hallucinogenic trip, angry at my intrusion into his home. Then, as the sun dipped below the hunched, wood-cloaked mountains, my friend’s ancient land line received a call, sending me stumbling inside at a run from the porch, and plunging me into roiling chaos.
The initial exchange seemed innocuous enough, considering what was to follow. Speaking accented but practiced English, a man asked after the whereabouts of my friend. I was initially hesitant to be fully forthright with this stranger, but when he voluntarily betrayed that my friend had been in Myanmar by asking how he had been since his return, I felt it was necessary to probe just a little. I asked when my friend had departed and, upon realizing his return to the states must have been immediately followed by his recent descent into paranoid compound fortification, I inquired whether he’d seemed distressed or ill in the days leading up to his return home. Those simple questions were somehow all the man on the other end of the line needed to hear, for his response was to ask if he had gone missing.
“I warned him,” the voice muttered. “I warned him not to go up into the mountains. I knew it must be bad, for him to stay so quiet after leaving.”
The exchange that followed couldn’t have totaled more than ten minutes, but my constant reflection on it over the intervening weeks has stretched it into an hours-long ordeal, remembered verbatim and retrievable down to a syllable. At my insistence, he told me of the witching circles he occupied in Yangon, and of my friend’s keen interest in them. As evasive as I had been with exact details, he described a trip through the country organized for my friend by contacts in the region, a sort of whirlwind tour of debauched and culturally subterranean experiences. This trip had apparently terminated in an ill-advised trek into the mountainous north of the country, that the speaker and his local Yangon brethren had absolutely refused to attend.
“There are ruins in the hills,” he told me, the disgust plain in his voice. “Sacked and toppled by the kings of Pagan, and with good reason. None should travel there.”
For centuries, people both local to the region and native to other provinces of Burma had stayed clear of the place. The longstanding curse placed upon it by the Pagan kings of old was bolstered here and there by the hushed retelling of another tale of woe sparked when a foreign traveler or urban youth from the south insisted on seeing the forbidden heights. Reiterated in the flesh of modernity just as it would’ve been recited those centuries ago from atop the peacock throne of Burma, the man warned me with hushed tones not to look into my friend’s final days, to burn any of his private writings, and to leave the dead to lie. He then hung up, the whole thing feeling for all the world like an establishing scene out of a century-old horror story.
That is precisely what made it impossible for me to heed his warnings.
Even as I looked over the domestic devastation around me left in the aftermath of just such a visit, I understood every ounce of thought that had driven my friend to make the trip into the mountains. These unnamed ruins, haunted by shadowy legendry so fierce an occultist guide among fellow occultists would not risk their ancient paths, were everything a chaser of the extravagant could dream to see. Initially worried for my friend, the realization that it had grown dark outside now breathed some level of fear into me, only heightening the racing of my thoughts.
Had he not boarded up his home, then thrashed and shot at some unknown force in the basement, only to run away into the woods? What, should I decide to stay there through the night, would I find?
These were the sort of thoughts that would’ve driven a reasonable man out of the house and down the little mountain road into the security of town, but I, as attested to by the stolen gravestones and human remains which shall soon surround my corpse in the cathedral, am not a reasonable man. I set about a fevered examination of the books and notes with which my friend had occupied himself during his voluntary imprisonment, and left messages with all the contacts I had garnered over a lifetime’s probing the obscure and obscene who I thought might have any knowledge of use to me. After all, with nothing else to work from, this scrap of tantalizing information was the only hope of learning what befell my companion, and discovering whether the unknown caller’s pessimism on that score was justified. The ominous connotations of that information were just an added incentive.
The night was a long, tedious affair, with several breaks taken for no better reason than to calm my nerves and assure there was nothing lurking in the unlit kitchen or creeping up the now exposed basement staircase. Nothing save the atmosphere of the little house was amiss, though, and the night ultimately proved enlightening. From a battered notebook well worn by continued visits from its owner over the years, I learned about my friend’s obsession with the concept of the Nat, a kind of mythic Burmese-Buddhist spirit, or deity. Writing using a cypher popularized by the Golden Dawn with which many in my circles will be familiar, he had been jotting down notes regarding the origination of the currently recognized pantheon of thirty-seven Nat, and on unofficial, more local Nat, revered or feared by populations of certain towns and villages spread here and there across the interior of Myanmar.
It was a history in which I was not versed, for Myanmar had never come up as a focal point of occult or otherwise weird significance, but he’d developed a fascination with rumors of a cult in the remote north of the country centered on a Nat of such wickedness that it had single-handedly spurred the attempted banning of local Nat offerings. This being was supposedly the reason for instituting the official pantheon of thirty-seven instituted some thousand years ago, after the end of the first millennium.
Scattered across the margins of Cambridge and Oxford histories of Southeast Asia and several more journals filled with scribbled code, I learned the story of King Anawrahta, founder of the first unified Burmese empire, and a figure seemingly obsessed with the imposition of Buddhist religious order overtop of the native faiths of his land. In the texts of academia, the reason given for this ranged from expanding state control over local governance to enriching the crown through more reliable religious taxation. Notes from my friend on correspondence with local occultists and their own books of speculative history painted a different, altogether darker picture.
Folk tales from the jungle-choked hills in the north of the country joined longstanding occult traditions in laying the blame for this crackdown on local rituals at the feet of a reviled figure called Paunggkuu, whose name is closely linked to the modern Burmese word for spider.
Paunggkuu, known by no other name or title, is shadowed by many rumored pasts and motives, with some tales alleging he was a noble member of a local clan whose prosperity was shattered by the expansion of the king’s empire in the south, turning he and his family to blood offerings and shadowy rites in hopes of bettering their fortunes. Still others believe he was a Nat-possessed vagrant, a nobody raised from nothing by a wicked spirit to great infamy only to just as quickly be tossed aside- an expendable mortal shell for a being which had long lurked in the mountains. Many more hinted origins exist, but the outcome of the rise of Paunggkuu is always the same, with the mundane man-turned-warlock leading a cult of several hundred followers into a megalithic ruined city tucked away in the trees, where they began to prey on the surrounding countryside.
Village youths started to go missing, and over time, whole rural communities were stripped clean of inhabitants. Rippling outwards from the ruined city, the locals spoke in hushed whispers of a creeping death, a diabolical Nat or witch in the guise of a monster who haunted the spaces beneath raised houses and huts at night, and whose disgusting visage appeared to the locals in nightmare night after sleepless night. So great was the fear brought about by this shadowy plague of disappearances that the regional seat of power, the small city of Mogaung, was forced to take notice. Its kingly high priest, himself a vassal and ally of the powerful King Anawrahta in the south, sent men into the region to quell the disorder and bring those responsible to justice. When those men, too, had gone missing, an army of several hundred was raised, and when that had failed to report back, the priest sent desperate word to Pagan, petitioning the king for aid.
Anawrahta, occupied with other matters in the south, failed to answer with speed, but was spurred to action by a dark event sometime around the middle of 1057, when a nighttime raid on the outskirts of Mogaung itself drove the priest to flee south to the capital, where he took up exiled residence in Pagan with his suzerain. This attack, which was laid at the feet of bandits in official records, did not topple the city or level any temples, but its nature was so horrid that Anawrahta put a momentary halt to his campaigns of unification and consolidation to march north with more than five thousand men, riding upon a gold-girdled war elephant and leading the host in person.
The events which followed seem singularly terrible, and the narrative presented in the royal chronicles of Pagan of a bandit revolt quashed by the glorious armies of Anawrahta does little to explain why all but a thousand of the men sent into the jungle never came back. It does nothing to explain why local Kachin legend speaks of the mortified screams which echoed down from the hills being audible even now on certain moonlit nights, when the skies are right. Bandits, after all, couldn’t have spurred a burgeoning kingdom with more enemies than allies to spend half a year leveling an ancient stone city, and the rest of the century burying its name and history by burning books and sundering stone carvings.
The sun rose over the Maryland hills, and with it, I found myself reverberating with not only a new grasp of a strange land’s lore and legendry, but of my aims moving forward. Several contacts of my friend’s had agreed to come search for him and continue looking into the mounds of documentation he had compiled. While they got on the road and began their long drives, a Javanese associate who had led me on an extravagant tour of ancient fire-cults still in practice on the remoter regions of that island contacted a friend at my behest. This friend initiated a chain of further connections from friend to friend until I was speaking with a Burmese Buddhist monk-turned-animist wiseman, who knew of the rumored city in the north.
Though he dissuaded me from my stated aim of visiting the site in search of answers, he agreed to meet me in Yangon upon my arrival and place me in contact with locals of the northern Kachin province who could aid me in getting transport and supplies in so remote a region. I purchased my tickets that morning for a chain of flights leaving out of Washington D.C. that evening, and after leaving a scribbled note for my vanished friend in the off chance he resurface before his other companions arrived, I piled into my car without a wink of sleep to drive for the capital.
I cannot entirely give voice to the feelings which drove my movements throughout the day. Exhaustion did not catch up to me until well into the initial flight from Washington to Japan, and even then, sleep came in fitful bursts. I was too busy pouring over hastily-copied scraps of information left by my friend, staring holes in satellite images of northern Myanmar, and memorizing a few helpful words of the Burmese language to even consider how I felt. The whole of the scenario seemed like some great initial stage in an epic drama, and my worry at the sudden disappearance of a close friend and associate in the pursuit of strangeness had fast been molded together with an urge to see what he must’ve seen, and to feel whatever had spurred the paranoia he must’ve felt during those last, manic days in the closed front room.
It would be trite of me to proclaim now what a fool I was for being so blind, so eager to face the unknown. Moreover, it wouldn’t be entirely honest. Even now, as I prepare to do what must be done, I can recognize that what I found in Myanmar was exactly the sort of thing I had been searching for throughout the long and confused span of years that led me into the jungles of rural Kachin, and I can’t claim I regret taking the journey. I can only regret that my friend had to suffer what he did to show me the path, and that both he and I proved too fragile to tolerate the thing which followed us home.
I met with my contact after a lengthy but fitful sleep at the cheapest hotel I could book once landed and settled in Yangon. After another lengthy attempt to dissuade me from my course outside a tiny local café which featured florid stories about regional Kachin Independence Army rebels, he sketched out a travel itinerary which would take me first by bus, then by locally arranged jeep up precarious roads to the tiny settlement of Sumprabum, in the farthest northern reaches of the nation. The way was precarious at times, with the aged dirt roads never failing to buck and rock the buses this way and that on the precipices of the scrub-choked cliff faces they hugged. The locals, bundled in like canned fish with a painfully conspicuous foreigner among them, mostly rode in sleepy silence through nearly two days of travel, leaving me to wonder whether I was the only one worried by the idea of toppling over the edge. It wouldn’t do, after all, to come so close to the unknown only to die in a bus crash.
Worry proved pointless, however, and I ended up in a tiny, flea-ridden bunk in Sumprabum a couple days after setting out from Maryland, my eyes scanning the tree-shrouded hills through the mist from my perch on the porch of a catholic mission as they reluctantly allowed me some much-needed sleep. It would be the first real rest I’d had since prior to my fateful road trip-turned-world excursion began. It would later prove to be the final mundane, dreamless sleep I would ever experience, but in my exhausted anticipation, I didn’t take any time to savor it.
Awakening plucked and prodded by mosquitoes but otherwise feeling prepared for anything, I made my way to a modest logger’s house of sheet metal and crude timber, where I met my local guide. He was an older man still steely with a laborer’s wiry muscle who the entire gathering of homes called Saya, something close to teacher. With my night owl’s pale skin, my relatively impressive height and my profuse sweating at the unaccustomed humidity, I must’ve looked like some traveling alien jester to the village’s locals, and we’d soon gathered a sizable crowd of onlookers as we talked over the plan for the day’s hike. I would pay a small sum to his family for his aid and the food and water he would furnish me with for the night I wanted to spend in the ruins, and then he would lead me on foot about twenty miles to the northwest into the forest, over hills and through valleys, until we arrived at the place the local Kachin population had dubbed Pyethceehon.
The name was only ever spoken in wavering tones of disgust and fear, and the assigning of so alien a name, alongside my newfound proximity to the place my friend had been only a short while ago, filled me with nervous apprehension for the first time since my entry into his home back in the states. While that vestigial, reptile-brained warning of danger to come was enough to put me on edge, it came nowhere close to drowning out my higher aspirations towards intrigue and awe. To be so close to the unknown was an ecstasy I hadn’t found in all my years of searching, and I was not about to abandon that sensation now.
Saya set a firm pace up what initially were muddy and brutally-sloped logging roads through the hills. After several hours we branched off and forded into the sea of trees. The undergrowth and tree trunks combined into a morass which looked absolutely identical to my untrained eye for hour after hour, but by nothing more than his memory of the landscape and the feel of the hills beneath his flip-flop clad feet, Saya pressed through. He always seemed to know just the right place to squeeze through a looming wall of interwoven trees or a jam of fallen logs in a creek bed. Our entire trip was scored by his thickly-accented English telling story after story about the sizes of snakes that could be found here or the density of the ant hives choking the ground there, interspersed with assurances that I could turn back at any time with but a word to him if I lost my nerve. I responded and questioned him when I could, but I was winded and broken by the endless ascents and descents we made despite years of avid hiking back home, and my spaces between strained breaths were few and far between.
He told me of several disappearances of hunters and scouts for logging outfits in the area, but nothing had transpired near the ruins in recent memory. So dark was their reputation that throughout the militia-driven guerrilla warfare which had preceded my arrival for several years, not one camp or troop movement had been made around or through Pyethceehon, whether by loyalist or separatist forces. Saya was the only man in the area that had come close in the past five or six decades, and even he never dared go the final mile or two towards the old settlement in the trees.
The first visit was a childhood expedition in search of village chickens spooked into the jungle by a storm, which had ended in him accidentally stumbling across the stream which babbled downhill from the hilltop upon which Pyethceehon brooded. The second was to lead my friend to the stony banks of that very same stream.
On arriving, the brave man made me the same offer he’d made my friend, standing with his hands on his hips and offering to come with me into the ruins if I felt I needed him there. It was an offer made through a face haunted by the very syllables formed in making the offer, and I couldn’t bring myself to ask Saya along.
Thanking him for his kindness, I made certain of the time I was to meet him tomorrow and departed for the legend-haunted wreck atop the low mountain, with afternoon long having set in. Our pace had been slowed by my pondering progress, and I knew the few remaining hours of daylight would provide more than enough time for the savvy Saya to reach the logging roads and be well on his way to the village by nightfall. The prospect of a night alone on this unknown precipice only set in when thirty minutes of hiking up the creek bed had secured my isolation. I gripped the little revolver I’d been given to ward off tigers with a tight desperation I had never before experienced. All the while, my tired legs carried me that last mile into Pyethceehon.
I was more vibrant and alive in those terrified minutes than I had ever been before. I pity my friend, for having been the very first outsider in a century to visit the place had denied him the experience of knowing some specter of the danger that lurked there firsthand. While he must’ve felt the weight of the ruin’s reputation and atmosphere, only I knew the fate of a personal friend who had come before. It lit a fire in my stomach so intense I chewed the interior of my cheek raw in jittery anticipation of reaching the summit, my wavering legs finding new strength as my destination neared.
During my hurried in-flight preparations for this moment, I had scoured pictures, satellite images and documentary footage of great Burmese temple and stupa sites like Bagan, wanting to be accustomed to the kind of structures I might find upon arrival. I had expected crumbling but mighty dome-and-spire edifices like those, but what I found was altogether alien. The structures of Pyethceehon were much more like the small, tightly-packed, cone-roofed structures of lesser-known Nyaung Ohak far to the south.
Its avenues were only a few feet wide, choked between hundreds of huddled monuments and teeming with hungry plant growth, the few untoppled stone peaks reaching no further than fifteen or twenty feet into the branch-strangled sky. Many of them leaned, their bases sinking into the stone of the ground as the passing of ten centuries remolded the very Earth beneath their feet. It was the material, though, that shocked me so, making me think I had wandered into some mighty forest of vine-blackened prehistoric teeth as I crested the hill and stumbled into that outpost of blasphemy.
The stone was not the reddish-brown of most of the nation’s monuments, nor the sandy, water-aged brown of monuments elsewhere in the near and far east. It was not the marble of rich classical sculpture or the placid limestone grey of contemplative new-world step pyramids and old-world castles. Rather, it was the shiny and rippling surface of masterfully-shaped obsidian, their rain-polished surfaces staring back in rank after rank at me through the scrub- looking for all the world like massive, teeming ant mounds.
The play of the sun through the canopy above off the slightly uneven surfaces even lent them the illusion of motion, as of water bubbling in rapids over a bank of piled stones, or, perhaps more appropriately, of millions of chitinous ant bodies amassing to repel an intruder. Their mostly conical spires were shingled with tiny interlocking plates of jade, weathered by centuries until it was almost muted, looking grey against the greens of the jungle.
I lingered there on the precipice for a long while, telling myself I needed to catch my breath, but knowing with every second I spent looking into the distance down those accursed rows that it was something much less explicable that kept my body frozen among the warm trees. It is only now, removed from the stress and excitement of the scene, that I can guess at what unspoken and unrecognized force halted my progress. Though I might not have been able to give voice to why at the time, I knew deep down that the conditions for obsidian to exist at all were not right here.
Obsidian was not among the pantheon of materials found in the jewelry, weapons or art of Southeast Asia, and that was because the nearest region with the right kind of volcanic activity to generate the substance at all lay thousands of miles away across the south china sea, on the island of Papua. I remember vividly having it pointed out as a commodity unique to the isle in my travels through Indonesia years before. What on Earth the glistening void-dark rock was doing in Myanmar remains far beyond me, but the grooved and layered construction of it, along with the faintly rough and uneven breaks in the glass-like surfaces where it had been so carefully shaped, told me it could be nothing else.
When at last my legs were moving beneath me again, I found winding my way through the obsidian forest testing at every moment my resolution to be there. Each stupa was littered with carvings, almost all of them pictographic, and almost all of these featuring the crouching forms of spiders. The largest, however, dotted every ten or twelve structures along the overgrown path I had chosen to follow, held another, more tantalizingly sinister image.
The first time I passed one of these carvings, I kept moving, my mind rushing to place why I recoiled on such an instinctive level from those particular figures amidst a legion of equally disturbing sights and sensations. Upon reaching a second rendition of the image, though, I opened my pack and flipped through my friend’s notebooks, desperate to confirm my suspicions. It didn’t take long to find his own rendition of the image, half-remembered in my nervous state, scrawled on the back cover of a cheap, weathered notebook.
The thing was a gaunt, thin, gangly creature, reminiscent of a man, but twisted and bent nearly beyond recognition. Its legs looked almost stick-like, ending in pointed barbs, and its torso sprouted three pairs of arms, evoking the image of sword-wielding Hindu gods. The arms sported one more joint than the single natural elbow showed by human beings, and each pair of them was held high in an awkward, exaggerated shrug- like a father aping a silent film-era monster to spook his children. This gave me the initial, erroneous impression that the many arms were the skeletal structure of unfurled wings. Each came to a blade-like point, just like the feet, with each lower pair slightly shorter than the last. The head -or what should have been a head- was by far the worst of it, though, and to think of it now in light of what I know makes me wonder beyond wonder that I stayed in that ruin at all.
Where a head should be, there was merely an aperture at the top of the torso, a large fang-lined mouth that ran like a zipper from where the back of a neck would’ve been to where the sternum should begin. Around it, unfurled and given the illusion of squirming motion by both the impromptu sketch artist and the ancient sculptors, were multiple layers of the sort of stunted forelegs that flank a tarantula’s mouth.
With the afternoon wearing on, I slowly pieced the shattered remnants of my aesthete’s zeal for the unusual back together. Wandering familiarized me with the two square miles or so that constituted the remnants of this little graveyard of forbidden worship, the knowledge I gained of its layout fortifying me with a sense of distant belonging I knew full well would disappear as soon as the sun sank beneath the horizon. Radiating inward like the strands of a great web, the avenues of the place all lead to a single center point where some massive temple or palace complex had once stood. It was here that I began to set up a modest little camp to wait out the night, piling what scant dry firewood I found and clearing undergrowth so that any insects or snakes would be scared out and away from my position.
The old temple was nothing save a foundation long sunk into the murky earth, its bottom littered with mud and stone from the superstructure, leaving only stalagmite-like fragments of its black obsidian walls to poke outward from the debris. It was in the protective shadow of one of these that I settled down, piling several more natural stones as a makeshift seat only after I ensured that none of the images of the damnable spider-thing were in view of my perch.
The final couple hours before nightfall felt like minutes, for time flew past with a speed only dread can create. I reflected, as I sat waiting for the proper moment to begin burning my small reserve of firewood, that there had been little in the way of totems or objects in the ruins. Most of the buildings had been stupas, too small to inhabit or enter, and the temple behind me had long ago been toppled in Pagan’s raid upon the despised cult. The sculptures, really the only testament to the past nature of this place, were repetitive, mimicking in stonework the kind of mantra repetitions witnessed in Buddhist or animist ceremonies.
I flipped through my catalogue of hastily-acquired knowledge, often referencing my friend’s notes and the books to which he’d clung, trying to recall anything which might help me retrace his steps in this dark corner of the Earth. I found none, for his notes said nothing of his actual expedition, and the treatments of this place in text and legend were so frightful and vague that there was little to work from. There were no signs of my friend in the avenues of shadowy Pyethceehon, just as there were no signs of the day-to-day lives of its ancient residents. The jungle had swallowed this vile place, and in another millennia, there would likely be nothing left to visit here.
Beyond the lack of information on my missing friend, I found my motivation consumed as the sunset got underway by an exhaustion which was entirely unlike me. Thoroughly unnerved and in a place unfamiliar to me, I should’ve been wide awake, ready to weather an entire night of vigilant, guarded listening over my fire. Instead, as the sky’s oranges darkened the shadows of the surrounding trees and scrub, turning the ranked stupas into ominous silhouettes which seemed to creep towards me through the encroaching trees, my usual explorer’s thrill at the unknown was extinguished. Each blink came as a labored exertion while I breathed life into the little woodpile before me.
Exacerbating this, I became aware of an impenetrable quiet hanging over the thinned mountaintop clearing in which Pyethceehon had brooded all these centuries. It was as if the very mosquitoes in the air knew not to disturb the slumber of such an ill-fated and ill-tempered beast as this.
I was in for a tense night.
submitted by StygianSagas to libraryofshadows [link] [comments]


2020.09.11 06:14 StygianSagas A Scratching at the Door (part 1)

It is my cathedral, my magnum opus- the culmination of two decades spent grinding my way through the most debauched and blasphemous practices and indulgences. It’s a thing of imposing grandeur most might shrug off as ominous or distasteful, like a soviet-era state edifice or a moldering abandoned hospital on an overcast hillside. It’s also seedy, just the right mix of ordered and disordered to tickle my mind and draw me into the rapturous atmosphere I have worked so hard to create within its walls. For years, I have retreated here when the weight of the world around me has beaten me low with its tedious, mundane goings-on, a last respite for a mind that never felt quite at home there. Fitting, then, that it will serve as my tomb.
Whoever stumbles across this account will find it in my home. From there, my cathedral is some two miles away, down the old logging trail that forks off from Whispering Pines Road. The dugout is near its terminus- a low, brooding bunker-like structure buried in the hills and blocked by a pair of rusted metal doors. I will leave these locked, but accessible via the key beneath this letter.
I don’t have any idea as to what the purpose of the modest dugout was originally, for it was barren when I found it two decades ago. Perhaps storage, for the nearest house is much too far away for it to serve effectively as a storm shelter. Regardless, the contents will be unharmed. I have committed crimes to attain the totems and relics I surround myself with, but while I might be a thief, I have always considered myself a borrower of items, rather than a taker of treasures. They may be redistributed to their proper places as authorities see fit to distribute them. Whoever first goes to the cathedral should mentally steel themselves for what they’ll find when they push through those heavy doors, though.
The collection began when I was a teenager. The first modest additions were items I acquired while delving in abandoned places of ill repute close to my hometown. I took a century-old diary from a moldering manor home in Louisville, and snagged a small bust dulled by time from a tottering school’s library in Lynch. As I grew in boldness, my taste for eerie and unsettling items grew more and more insatiable.
The gravestones of several notable Civil War-era dead were taken from Perryville, beginning the collection of headstones and memorial plaques of supposedly spectral figures that tile my cathedral’s walls. A bone saw, taken from a reportedly haunted hospital across the state line in Ironton, leans on a shelf against the skull of a folklore-rumored hermit-turned-warlock from the hills west of Ashland, which I dug up and preserved with great care after his remains had lurked in the ground for the better part of a century.
International connections may be needed to return some of the items, though, for I have done a fair bit of traveling in my time, always on the lookout for suitably evocative items for my gallery. The collection boasts, for example, a golden ring pulled from the bottom of a Yucatan cenote, where it rested amongst the honored sacrificial dead piled there during the golden age of the Maya. It rests upon the index finger of an unnaturally large mummified hand treasured by a twisted group of scholarly mountainside cultists in Tibet, who believed it to be the withered claw of a woman from the fabled subterranean realm of Patala. All this shall be catalogued in the most intimate detail which my memory allows, and I will denote the dates and locations at which each item was acquired, from the most modest small-town tombstone to the most exotic ‘cursed’ statuette or storied murder weapon.
I won’t get too bogged down in all that here, though. You’ll find that list in the cathedral, along with whatever remains of me. The purpose of this text is to dissuade anyone from touching or tampering with, in any way, a certain item I’ve hidden away in a long-forgotten mine not terribly far from here. The entrance will be collapsed, a feat which will charge me no small amount of work, and it desperately needs to stay that way. I only bother to mention this item at all because, for reasons that will become evident, I am unsure whether it will stay put down there in the wake of my death.
Any perusing these pages would be justified in wondering what all the fuss is about, so I’ll lay out the story as clearly as I’m able, starting with why I even had cause to come in contact with the wretched thing in the first place. Some years into my darker explorations and trophy taking, exploiting a long interest in the darker side of paranormal speculation and occult practices, I began to experiment here and there with immersing myself in the kinds of provocative groups that often congregated around the places I visited. In college I visited a local quarry notorious for suicidal leaps with some of my fellow students on Halloween for a very stereotypical drunk layman’s séance. It produced nothing tangible in terms of unexplainable experiences, but electrified me with the mood -the atmosphere- that accompanied our silly ritual when it was performed in so ominous a setting.
Branching out from there, I found equally atmospheric experiences by hitching my wagon to various occult groups across my region, the most longstanding relation being with a nameless group of pagan revivalists in Cave City. They stoked my need for taboo moods with spectacular solstice sacrifices of live bullocks during firelight ceremonies in the cave systems across the county.
Over the years, I built up a book of contacts who shared my fascination, or at least held a belief in eldritch ritual and ample enough contacts to put me in a position to experience and partake in their rites. I never developed any belief that anything I was doing had any impact in the material sense, however.
Chasing these rituals and gatherings was to me purely a folkloric, atmospheric exercise, a passionate and exciting interest that sweetened my existence in a world I found comparatively drab. When I witnessed a group of isolated townspeople in the arid interior of Tunisia burn a live lamb on a bed of coals before an ancient horned statue in the hills under a full moon, I was under no illusions that I had made contact with Baal Hammon. Rather, I could imagine for the briefest hour that I stood in Carthage before it’s fall. I could feel the exaltations and excesses of the men and women of that lost land in a way that few others, even amongst our great but fast-decaying scholarly institutions, will ever know. In this way, I liked to pretend that my pursuits were entirely anthropological in nature, an extended study in the collection and interpretation of dark folklore.
There was a small, sequestered portion of my mind, however, that had less rational motivations. Whenever a promising message would come my way, titillating me at the thought of potential reality behind all the shadowy pageantry of these ritual outings, I would jump at the chance to experience the kinds of raw emotion -fear, awe, or otherwise- that were so often whispered about in occult gatherings. I wanted some taste of the beyond, whatever that happened to be, and a chance discovery I made in July seemed to promise that very thing. It was this call to the unknown that set me on the path towards my final resting place in the cathedral.
Several months ago, a contact I made years back while visiting radical underground pagan organizations in Europe and with whom I had shared deep if infrequent correspondence was mentioned in passing by a mutual acquaintance, and it came up that he hadn’t been heard from in some months. I wrote to him and, when calls and emails went unanswered, I resolved to make the trip east to his home in the mountains of western Maryland to see him in person. Even among circles as prone to weirdness and reclusiveness as mine, it was odd for someone to go entirely dark. The nature of my interests -and those of my friend, for that matter- meant that the hunger for understanding ears to speak to was endless. For someone to wholly disconnect from the people who were best able to understand his eldritch obsessions and habits was an act of self-isolation above and beyond anything I or most I inquired with had ever witnessed.
When I arrived at his modest home west of Cumberland, I found it deserted in an odd state, with the front door unlocked and unsecure but the windows boarded up as if a hurricane were soon due on the mountainside. His shotgun lay tossed on the couch in the front room as I entered the building, and by the looks of the place, he had been holed up there for some time, sequestered off from the rest of the house. The doorway to the basement was boarded up, as was his adjoining bedroom and the back door onto the porch, which left only the front door accessible, and even that seemed to have been secured until recently. With his front sitting room space and a combined kitchen cut off like that, he’d set himself up to sleep on his couch and over the intervening days built up a fearful mess of discarded food and hastily-rifled books and papers.
Upon forcing my way into the basement, I found the sparse furniture and stored books and pictures tossed and turned, but nothing missing. The shotgun resting in the front room above had been fired several times into the walls, but had apparently stricken nothing, for there was no trace of blood or injury to be discovered.
Such disorder was worrying, for he had been an orderly and reserved man. What worried me more, however, was that there were no signs of forced entry. His old truck still sat rusting in the gravel driveway, the keys tucked under the driver’s seat as was his custom. The boarding and locks holding shut the front door had been calmly removed and unlatched from within, and there was not a single sign of disturbance in his makeshift fortress that would suggest someone had laid siege to the house to take him or his belongings. After locking himself in his front room for days, perhaps weeks, he had finally freed himself and walked out into the dense, mountainous woodland surrounding the house with no gun, no shoes, no keys, and no truck.
I set about investigating myself, hesitant to involve the authorities for obvious reasons. It was one thing to call up mutual associates to check whether there was any consensus on what he had been up to in the days prior to his confinement, but it was quite another to allow police to intrude on his property and potentially discover some macabre collection similar to my own that I’d been unaware of. Call after call came back inconclusive and shrouded in uncertainty, leaving me less and less convinced as the evening wore on that he would simply stumble out of the darkening woodline any minute fresh off some spectacular hallucinogenic trip, angry at my intrusion into his home. Then, as the sun dipped below the hunched, wood-cloaked mountains, my friend’s ancient land line received a call, sending me stumbling inside at a run from the porch, and plunging me into roiling chaos.
The initial exchange seemed innocuous enough, considering what was to follow. Speaking accented but practiced English, a man asked after the whereabouts of my friend. I was initially hesitant to be fully forthright with this stranger, but when he voluntarily betrayed that my friend had been in Myanmar by asking how he had been since his return, I felt it was necessary to probe just a little. I asked when my friend had departed and, upon realizing his return to the states must have been immediately followed by his recent descent into paranoid compound fortification, I inquired whether he’d seemed distressed or ill in the days leading up to his return home. Those simple questions were somehow all the man on the other end of the line needed to hear, for his response was to ask if he had gone missing.
“I warned him,” the voice muttered. “I warned him not to go up into the mountains. I knew it must be bad, for him to stay so quiet after leaving.”
The exchange that followed couldn’t have totaled more than ten minutes, but my constant reflection on it over the intervening weeks has stretched it into an hours-long ordeal, remembered verbatim and retrievable down to a syllable. At my insistence, he told me of the witching circles he occupied in Yangon, and of my friend’s keen interest in them. As evasive as I had been with exact details, he described a trip through the country organized for my friend by contacts in the region, a sort of whirlwind tour of debauched and culturally subterranean experiences. This trip had apparently terminated in an ill-advised trek into the mountainous north of the country, that the speaker and his local Yangon brethren had absolutely refused to attend.
“There are ruins in the hills,” he told me, the disgust plain in his voice. “Sacked and toppled by the kings of Pagan, and with good reason. None should travel there.”
For centuries, people both local to the region and native to other provinces of Burma had stayed clear of the place. The longstanding curse placed upon it by the Pagan kings of old was bolstered here and there by the hushed retelling of another tale of woe sparked when a foreign traveler or urban youth from the south insisted on seeing the forbidden heights. Reiterated in the flesh of modernity just as it would’ve been recited those centuries ago from atop the peacock throne of Burma, the man warned me with hushed tones not to look into my friend’s final days, to burn any of his private writings, and to leave the dead to lie. He then hung up, the whole thing feeling for all the world like an establishing scene out of a century-old horror story.
That is precisely what made it impossible for me to heed his warnings.
Even as I looked over the domestic devastation around me left in the aftermath of just such a visit, I understood every ounce of thought that had driven my friend to make the trip into the mountains. These unnamed ruins, haunted by shadowy legendry so fierce an occultist guide among fellow occultists would not risk their ancient paths, were everything a chaser of the extravagant could dream to see. Initially worried for my friend, the realization that it had grown dark outside now breathed some level of fear into me, only heightening the racing of my thoughts.
Had he not boarded up his home, then thrashed and shot at some unknown force in the basement, only to run away into the woods? What, should I decide to stay there through the night, would I find?
These were the sort of thoughts that would’ve driven a reasonable man out of the house and down the little mountain road into the security of town, but I, as attested to by the stolen gravestones and human remains which shall soon surround my corpse in the cathedral, am not a reasonable man. I set about a fevered examination of the books and notes with which my friend had occupied himself during his voluntary imprisonment, and left messages with all the contacts I had garnered over a lifetime’s probing the obscure and obscene who I thought might have any knowledge of use to me. After all, with nothing else to work from, this scrap of tantalizing information was the only hope of learning what befell my companion, and discovering whether the unknown caller’s pessimism on that score was justified. The ominous connotations of that information were just an added incentive.
The night was a long, tedious affair, with several breaks taken for no better reason than to calm my nerves and assure there was nothing lurking in the unlit kitchen or creeping up the now exposed basement staircase. Nothing save the atmosphere of the little house was amiss, though, and the night ultimately proved enlightening. From a battered notebook well worn by continued visits from its owner over the years, I learned about my friend’s obsession with the concept of the Nat, a kind of mythic Burmese-Buddhist spirit, or deity. Writing using a cypher popularized by the Golden Dawn with which many in my circles will be familiar, he had been jotting down notes regarding the origination of the currently recognized pantheon of thirty-seven Nat, and on unofficial, more local Nat, revered or feared by populations of certain towns and villages spread here and there across the interior of Myanmar.
It was a history in which I was not versed, for Myanmar had never come up as a focal point of occult or otherwise weird significance, but he’d developed a fascination with rumors of a cult in the remote north of the country centered on a Nat of such wickedness that it had single-handedly spurred the attempted banning of local Nat offerings. This being was supposedly the reason for instituting the official pantheon of thirty-seven instituted some thousand years ago, after the end of the first millennium.
Scattered across the margins of Cambridge and Oxford histories of Southeast Asia and several more journals filled with scribbled code, I learned the story of King Anawrahta, founder of the first unified Burmese empire, and a figure seemingly obsessed with the imposition of Buddhist religious order overtop of the native faiths of his land. In the texts of academia, the reason given for this ranged from expanding state control over local governance to enriching the crown through more reliable religious taxation. Notes from my friend on correspondence with local occultists and their own books of speculative history painted a different, altogether darker picture.
Folk tales from the jungle-choked hills in the north of the country joined longstanding occult traditions in laying the blame for this crackdown on local rituals at the feet of a reviled figure called Paunggkuu, whose name is closely linked to the modern Burmese word for spider.
Paunggkuu, known by no other name or title, is shadowed by many rumored pasts and motives, with some tales alleging he was a noble member of a local clan whose prosperity was shattered by the expansion of the king’s empire in the south, turning he and his family to blood offerings and shadowy rites in hopes of bettering their fortunes. Still others believe he was a Nat-possessed vagrant, a nobody raised from nothing by a wicked spirit to great infamy only to just as quickly be tossed aside- an expendable mortal shell for a being which had long lurked in the mountains. Many more hinted origins exist, but the outcome of the rise of Paunggkuu is always the same, with the mundane man-turned-warlock leading a cult of several hundred followers into a megalithic ruined city tucked away in the trees, where they began to prey on the surrounding countryside.
Village youths started to go missing, and over time, whole rural communities were stripped clean of inhabitants. Rippling outwards from the ruined city, the locals spoke in hushed whispers of a creeping death, a diabolical Nat or witch in the guise of a monster who haunted the spaces beneath raised houses and huts at night, and whose disgusting visage appeared to the locals in nightmare night after sleepless night. So great was the fear brought about by this shadowy plague of disappearances that the regional seat of power, the small city of Mogaung, was forced to take notice. Its kingly high priest, himself a vassal and ally of the powerful King Anawrahta in the south, sent men into the region to quell the disorder and bring those responsible to justice. When those men, too, had gone missing, an army of several hundred was raised, and when that had failed to report back, the priest sent desperate word to Pagan, petitioning the king for aid.
Anawrahta, occupied with other matters in the south, failed to answer with speed, but was spurred to action by a dark event sometime around the middle of 1057, when a nighttime raid on the outskirts of Mogaung itself drove the priest to flee south to the capital, where he took up exiled residence in Pagan with his suzerain. This attack, which was laid at the feet of bandits in official records, did not topple the city or level any temples, but its nature was so horrid that Anawrahta put a momentary halt to his campaigns of unification and consolidation to march north with more than five thousand men, riding upon a gold-girdled war elephant and leading the host in person.
The events which followed seem singularly terrible, and the narrative presented in the royal chronicles of Pagan of a bandit revolt quashed by the glorious armies of Anawrahta does little to explain why all but a thousand of the men sent into the jungle never came back. It does nothing to explain why local Kachin legend speaks of the mortified screams which echoed down from the hills being audible even now on certain moonlit nights, when the skies are right. Bandits, after all, couldn’t have spurred a burgeoning kingdom with more enemies than allies to spend half a year leveling an ancient stone city, and the rest of the century burying its name and history by burning books and sundering stone carvings.
The sun rose over the Maryland hills, and with it, I found myself reverberating with not only a new grasp of a strange land’s lore and legendry, but of my aims moving forward. Several contacts of my friend’s had agreed to come search for him and continue looking into the mounds of documentation he had compiled. While they got on the road and began their long drives, a Javanese associate who had led me on an extravagant tour of ancient fire-cults still in practice on the remoter regions of that island contacted a friend at my behest. This friend initiated a chain of further connections from friend to friend until I was speaking with a Burmese Buddhist monk-turned-animist wiseman, who knew of the rumored city in the north.
Though he dissuaded me from my stated aim of visiting the site in search of answers, he agreed to meet me in Yangon upon my arrival and place me in contact with locals of the northern Kachin province who could aid me in getting transport and supplies in so remote a region. I purchased my tickets that morning for a chain of flights leaving out of Washington D.C. that evening, and after leaving a scribbled note for my vanished friend in the off chance he resurface before his other companions arrived, I piled into my car without a wink of sleep to drive for the capital.
I cannot entirely give voice to the feelings which drove my movements throughout the day. Exhaustion did not catch up to me until well into the initial flight from Washington to Japan, and even then, sleep came in fitful bursts. I was too busy pouring over hastily-copied scraps of information left by my friend, staring holes in satellite images of northern Myanmar, and memorizing a few helpful words of the Burmese language to even consider how I felt. The whole of the scenario seemed like some great initial stage in an epic drama, and my worry at the sudden disappearance of a close friend and associate in the pursuit of strangeness had fast been molded together with an urge to see what he must’ve seen, and to feel whatever had spurred the paranoia he must’ve felt during those last, manic days in the closed front room.
It would be trite of me to proclaim now what a fool I was for being so blind, so eager to face the unknown. Moreover, it wouldn’t be entirely honest. Even now, as I prepare to do what must be done, I can recognize that what I found in Myanmar was exactly the sort of thing I had been searching for throughout the long and confused span of years that led me into the jungles of rural Kachin, and I can’t claim I regret taking the journey. I can only regret that my friend had to suffer what he did to show me the path, and that both he and I proved too fragile to tolerate the thing which followed us home.
I met with my contact after a lengthy but fitful sleep at the cheapest hotel I could book once landed and settled in Yangon. After another lengthy attempt to dissuade me from my course outside a tiny local café which featured florid stories about regional Kachin Independence Army rebels, he sketched out a travel itinerary which would take me first by bus, then by locally arranged jeep up precarious roads to the tiny settlement of Sumprabum, in the farthest northern reaches of the nation. The way was precarious at times, with the aged dirt roads never failing to buck and rock the buses this way and that on the precipices of the scrub-choked cliff faces they hugged. The locals, bundled in like canned fish with a painfully conspicuous foreigner among them, mostly rode in sleepy silence through nearly two days of travel, leaving me to wonder whether I was the only one worried by the idea of toppling over the edge. It wouldn’t do, after all, to come so close to the unknown only to die in a bus crash.
Worry proved pointless, however, and I ended up in a tiny, flea-ridden bunk in Sumprabum a couple days after setting out from Maryland, my eyes scanning the tree-shrouded hills through the mist from my perch on the porch of a catholic mission as they reluctantly allowed me some much-needed sleep. It would be the first real rest I’d had since prior to my fateful road trip-turned-world excursion began. It would later prove to be the final mundane, dreamless sleep I would ever experience, but in my exhausted anticipation, I didn’t take any time to savor it.
Awakening plucked and prodded by mosquitoes but otherwise feeling prepared for anything, I made my way to a modest logger’s house of sheet metal and crude timber, where I met my local guide. He was an older man still steely with a laborer’s wiry muscle who the entire gathering of homes called Saya, something close to teacher. With my night owl’s pale skin, my relatively impressive height and my profuse sweating at the unaccustomed humidity, I must’ve looked like some traveling alien jester to the village’s locals, and we’d soon gathered a sizable crowd of onlookers as we talked over the plan for the day’s hike. I would pay a small sum to his family for his aid and the food and water he would furnish me with for the night I wanted to spend in the ruins, and then he would lead me on foot about twenty miles to the northwest into the forest, over hills and through valleys, until we arrived at the place the local Kachin population had dubbed Pyethceehon.
The name was only ever spoken in wavering tones of disgust and fear, and the assigning of so alien a name, alongside my newfound proximity to the place my friend had been only a short while ago, filled me with nervous apprehension for the first time since my entry into his home back in the states. While that vestigial, reptile-brained warning of danger to come was enough to put me on edge, it came nowhere close to drowning out my higher aspirations towards intrigue and awe. To be so close to the unknown was an ecstasy I hadn’t found in all my years of searching, and I was not about to abandon that sensation now.
Saya set a firm pace up what initially were muddy and brutally-sloped logging roads through the hills. After several hours we branched off and forded into the sea of trees. The undergrowth and tree trunks combined into a morass which looked absolutely identical to my untrained eye for hour after hour, but by nothing more than his memory of the landscape and the feel of the hills beneath his flip-flop clad feet, Saya pressed through. He always seemed to know just the right place to squeeze through a looming wall of interwoven trees or a jam of fallen logs in a creek bed. Our entire trip was scored by his thickly-accented English telling story after story about the sizes of snakes that could be found here or the density of the ant hives choking the ground there, interspersed with assurances that I could turn back at any time with but a word to him if I lost my nerve. I responded and questioned him when I could, but I was winded and broken by the endless ascents and descents we made despite years of avid hiking back home, and my spaces between strained breaths were few and far between.
He told me of several disappearances of hunters and scouts for logging outfits in the area, but nothing had transpired near the ruins in recent memory. So dark was their reputation that throughout the militia-driven guerrilla warfare which had preceded my arrival for several years, not one camp or troop movement had been made around or through Pyethceehon, whether by loyalist or separatist forces. Saya was the only man in the area that had come close in the past five or six decades, and even he never dared go the final mile or two towards the old settlement in the trees.
The first visit was a childhood expedition in search of village chickens spooked into the jungle by a storm, which had ended in him accidentally stumbling across the stream which babbled downhill from the hilltop upon which Pyethceehon brooded. The second was to lead my friend to the stony banks of that very same stream.
On arriving, the brave man made me the same offer he’d made my friend, standing with his hands on his hips and offering to come with me into the ruins if I felt I needed him there. It was an offer made through a face haunted by the very syllables formed in making the offer, and I couldn’t bring myself to ask Saya along.
Thanking him for his kindness, I made certain of the time I was to meet him tomorrow and departed for the legend-haunted wreck atop the low mountain, with afternoon long having set in. Our pace had been slowed by my pondering progress, and I knew the few remaining hours of daylight would provide more than enough time for the savvy Saya to reach the logging roads and be well on his way to the village by nightfall. The prospect of a night alone on this unknown precipice only set in when thirty minutes of hiking up the creek bed had secured my isolation. I gripped the little revolver I’d been given to ward off tigers with a tight desperation I had never before experienced. All the while, my tired legs carried me that last mile into Pyethceehon.
I was more vibrant and alive in those terrified minutes than I had ever been before. I pity my friend, for having been the very first outsider in a century to visit the place had denied him the experience of knowing some specter of the danger that lurked there firsthand. While he must’ve felt the weight of the ruin’s reputation and atmosphere, only I knew the fate of a personal friend who had come before. It lit a fire in my stomach so intense I chewed the interior of my cheek raw in jittery anticipation of reaching the summit, my wavering legs finding new strength as my destination neared.
During my hurried in-flight preparations for this moment, I had scoured pictures, satellite images and documentary footage of great Burmese temple and stupa sites like Bagan, wanting to be accustomed to the kind of structures I might find upon arrival. I had expected crumbling but mighty dome-and-spire edifices like those, but what I found was altogether alien. The structures of Pyethceehon were much more like the small, tightly-packed, cone-roofed structures of lesser-known Nyaung Ohak far to the south.
Its avenues were only a few feet wide, choked between hundreds of huddled monuments and teeming with hungry plant growth, the few untoppled stone peaks reaching no further than fifteen or twenty feet into the branch-strangled sky. Many of them leaned, their bases sinking into the stone of the ground as the passing of ten centuries remolded the very Earth beneath their feet. It was the material, though, that shocked me so, making me think I had wandered into some mighty forest of vine-blackened prehistoric teeth as I crested the hill and stumbled into that outpost of blasphemy.
The stone was not the reddish-brown of most of the nation’s monuments, nor the sandy, water-aged brown of monuments elsewhere in the near and far east. It was not the marble of rich classical sculpture or the placid limestone grey of contemplative new-world step pyramids and old-world castles. Rather, it was the shiny and rippling surface of masterfully-shaped obsidian, their rain-polished surfaces staring back in rank after rank at me through the scrub- looking for all the world like massive, teeming ant mounds.
The play of the sun through the canopy above off the slightly uneven surfaces even lent them the illusion of motion, as of water bubbling in rapids over a bank of piled stones, or, perhaps more appropriately, of millions of chitinous ant bodies amassing to repel an intruder. Their mostly conical spires were shingled with tiny interlocking plates of jade, weathered by centuries until it was almost muted, looking grey against the greens of the jungle.
I lingered there on the precipice for a long while, telling myself I needed to catch my breath, but knowing with every second I spent looking into the distance down those accursed rows that it was something much less explicable that kept my body frozen among the warm trees. It is only now, removed from the stress and excitement of the scene, that I can guess at what unspoken and unrecognized force halted my progress. Though I might not have been able to give voice to why at the time, I knew deep down that the conditions for obsidian to exist at all were not right here.
Obsidian was not among the pantheon of materials found in the jewelry, weapons or art of Southeast Asia, and that was because the nearest region with the right kind of volcanic activity to generate the substance at all lay thousands of miles away across the south china sea, on the island of Papua. I remember vividly having it pointed out as a commodity unique to the isle in my travels through Indonesia years before. What on Earth the glistening void-dark rock was doing in Myanmar remains far beyond me, but the grooved and layered construction of it, along with the faintly rough and uneven breaks in the glass-like surfaces where it had been so carefully shaped, told me it could be nothing else.
When at last my legs were moving beneath me again, I found winding my way through the obsidian forest testing at every moment my resolution to be there. Each stupa was littered with carvings, almost all of them pictographic, and almost all of these featuring the crouching forms of spiders. The largest, however, dotted every ten or twelve structures along the overgrown path I had chosen to follow, held another, more tantalizingly sinister image.
The first time I passed one of these carvings, I kept moving, my mind rushing to place why I recoiled on such an instinctive level from those particular figures amidst a legion of equally disturbing sights and sensations. Upon reaching a second rendition of the image, though, I opened my pack and flipped through my friend’s notebooks, desperate to confirm my suspicions. It didn’t take long to find his own rendition of the image, half-remembered in my nervous state, scrawled on the back cover of a cheap, weathered notebook.
The thing was a gaunt, thin, gangly creature, reminiscent of a man, but twisted and bent nearly beyond recognition. Its legs looked almost stick-like, ending in pointed barbs, and its torso sprouted three pairs of arms, evoking the image of sword-wielding Hindu gods. The arms sported one more joint than the single natural elbow showed by human beings, and each pair of them was held high in an awkward, exaggerated shrug- like a father aping a silent film-era monster to spook his children. This gave me the initial, erroneous impression that the many arms were the skeletal structure of unfurled wings. Each came to a blade-like point, just like the feet, with each lower pair slightly shorter than the last. The head -or what should have been a head- was by far the worst of it, though, and to think of it now in light of what I know makes me wonder beyond wonder that I stayed in that ruin at all.
Where a head should be, there was merely an aperture at the top of the torso, a large fang-lined mouth that ran like a zipper from where the back of a neck would’ve been to where the sternum should begin. Around it, unfurled and given the illusion of squirming motion by both the impromptu sketch artist and the ancient sculptors, were multiple layers of the sort of stunted forelegs that flank a tarantula’s mouth.
With the afternoon wearing on, I slowly pieced the shattered remnants of my aesthete’s zeal for the unusual back together. Wandering familiarized me with the two square miles or so that constituted the remnants of this little graveyard of forbidden worship, the knowledge I gained of its layout fortifying me with a sense of distant belonging I knew full well would disappear as soon as the sun sank beneath the horizon. Radiating inward like the strands of a great web, the avenues of the place all lead to a single center point where some massive temple or palace complex had once stood. It was here that I began to set up a modest little camp to wait out the night, piling what scant dry firewood I found and clearing undergrowth so that any insects or snakes would be scared out and away from my position.
The old temple was nothing save a foundation long sunk into the murky earth, its bottom littered with mud and stone from the superstructure, leaving only stalagmite-like fragments of its black obsidian walls to poke outward from the debris. It was in the protective shadow of one of these that I settled down, piling several more natural stones as a makeshift seat only after I ensured that none of the images of the damnable spider-thing were in view of my perch.
The final couple hours before nightfall felt like minutes, for time flew past with a speed only dread can create. I reflected, as I sat waiting for the proper moment to begin burning my small reserve of firewood, that there had been little in the way of totems or objects in the ruins. Most of the buildings had been stupas, too small to inhabit or enter, and the temple behind me had long ago been toppled in Pagan’s raid upon the despised cult. The sculptures, really the only testament to the past nature of this place, were repetitive, mimicking in stonework the kind of mantra repetitions witnessed in Buddhist or animist ceremonies.
I flipped through my catalogue of hastily-acquired knowledge, often referencing my friend’s notes and the books to which he’d clung, trying to recall anything which might help me retrace his steps in this dark corner of the Earth. I found none, for his notes said nothing of his actual expedition, and the treatments of this place in text and legend were so frightful and vague that there was little to work from. There were no signs of my friend in the avenues of shadowy Pyethceehon, just as there were no signs of the day-to-day lives of its ancient residents. The jungle had swallowed this vile place, and in another millennia, there would likely be nothing left to visit here.
Beyond the lack of information on my missing friend, I found my motivation consumed as the sunset got underway by an exhaustion which was entirely unlike me. Thoroughly unnerved and in a place unfamiliar to me, I should’ve been wide awake, ready to weather an entire night of vigilant, guarded listening over my fire. Instead, as the sky’s oranges darkened the shadows of the surrounding trees and scrub, turning the ranked stupas into ominous silhouettes which seemed to creep towards me through the encroaching trees, my usual explorer’s thrill at the unknown was extinguished. Each blink came as a labored exertion while I breathed life into the little woodpile before me.
Exacerbating this, I became aware of an impenetrable quiet hanging over the thinned mountaintop clearing in which Pyethceehon had brooded all these centuries. It was as if the very mosquitoes in the air knew not to disturb the slumber of such an ill-fated and ill-tempered beast as this.
I was in for a tense night.
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2020.07.29 15:20 Gopherbear What's happening in Cumberland this week

What’s Happening in Downtown Cumberland Downtown Cumberland is Reopened and Ready for You Free Parking on Saturdays & Sundays and Daily after 5 PM
EVENTS
The Downtown Cumberland Farmers' Market is a place where the community meets each week to enjoy fresh produce, locally grown fruits, vegetables, plants, organic products, fresh seafood, prepared foods, as well as the work of local artists and craftspeople. The market sets up every Thursday from 9:30 am - 2 pm on Baltimore Street in Historic City Center from May to October.
Support the Blue - To show support of our LEO’s there will be a support rally on Sunday, August 2nd at 3 pm in the area of the City Hall in Cumberland. These men and women leave their families every day to protect us and help give us the opportunity and freedom to live a life that many countries do not have. Let’s help bridge the gap between our LEO’s and the community. Come out to say thank you and show your support for our LEO’s. And let’s not forget our first responders and military. There will be two local pastors to share a prayer and a speaker at the event. More details to follow so, for now, save the date and share.
39th Annual Chamber Crab Feast – Early Bird Ticket Price Deadline THIS Friday, July 24! Don't Miss This One! Friday, August 7, 6:00 - 9:00 pm, Ali Ghan Shrine Picnic Grounds (Following all outdoor dining guidelines) Ticket Prices: Early Bird Price $60 - If purchased by July 24; $75 - After July 24. (Admission 21 years of age or older)
Limited Reserved Seating is available in the Corporate Tent. For Additional Details or to Reserve your Tent and Tickets. Contact The Chamber at 301-722-2820 or [email protected].
Hounds Around Town - Looking for a day filled with furry friends and fun???
Then look no further than the Allegany County Animal Shelter’s “Hounds Around Town” program, which allows individuals to sign a shelter dog out for the day. Being situated in the beautiful mountains of Western Maryland presents a great opportunity for our shelter dogs to experience the joy of a long walk, hike or run in many of the area’s scenic locations. Looking for something more low-key? No problem, we have many pups that would enjoy an afternoon lounging on a couch, a leisurely stroll through the neighborhood or maybe a trip for ice cream. The most important thing is you are giving an adoptable shelter dog a much-needed break from the kennels and providing enrichment and socialization. For more information on the Hounds Around Town program, contact the shelter at 301-777-5930.
RETAIL
Barkin’ Basement Thrift Shop – It’s all about the kids this week at Barkin’ Basement. All children’s clothing & shoes, games, toys, puzzles, stuffed animals and books are half price. Plus each child visiting BB may pick out one free children’s book. Barkin’ Basement is located at 45 Baltimore Street and is open Thursday-Sunday.
PharmaCare West’s lobby and drive-thru and open to serve you. If coming inside, you must wear a mask. New seasonal popcorn flavors of Bedford Candies are here! Don’t forget the post office is open for purchasing stamps and shipping packages. We also accept pre-paid USPS merchandise return packages and other pre-paid packages. 64 Greene Street – open Mon – Fri 9 am to 6 pm and Sat 9 am to 1 pm – phone 301.724.1183 – follow us on Facebook/The PharmaCare Network
The Book Center hosts Books On The Bricks, a book group forum where readers come together and talk about books. Join us on the 2nd Tuesday of the month from 6:00-7:30 pm to read interesting books, have lively discussions, and speak with authors. This is a free event, open to the public and no registration is required. Monthly book selections are available at The Book Center for a 20% discount. Wine and themed refreshments are served.
Upcoming titles: August 11 - She Would Be King by Wayétu Moore (Q&A with Author) September 8 - 142 Ostriches by April Dávila (Q&A with Author) October 13 - The Last List of Miss Judith Kratt by Andrea Bobotis (Q&A with Author) November 10 - Circe by Madeline Miller December 8 - Mr. Dickens and His Carol by Samantha Silva (Q&A with Author) If you have questions, email [email protected] or call The Book Center at 301-722-2284. Sign up to receive email updates at http://www.thebookcenteronline.com/books-on-the-bricks.
Fort Cumberland Emporium – Christmas in July Sale – Many of our vendors are offering a 20% discount on Christmas décor and items. Please check at the front desk for a list of vendors.
Cumberland Emporium has vendor space available. The Emporium is located at 55 Baltimore Street and is an antique/collectibles shop. If you might be interested in renting a space, call 301-722-4500 or stop by the store.
Fabulous Past Perfect Boutique Sale is on Wednesday, July 29, 3-7 pm. We are a part of Cumberland's Hospital auxiliary, helping where needed, we have a fantastic selection of next to new clothing for women, men, and children plus household knick-knacks for unbelievably low prices - cash only. Since we are just a group of a few graciously aging volunteers, we hold these 2-day sales only about 10 times a year, be sure you do not miss them! We will keep you posted. 13513 Winchester Rd, La Vale
Love to go antiquing and thrifting? Want to discover a handmade treasure? Downtown Cumberland has some great shops including Fort Cumberland Emporium, Baltimore Street Collectibles, Barkin’ Basement Thrift Shop (Thursday – Sunday), Queen City Flea Market (Friday – Sunday), Windsor Castle Antiques & Flea Market (Sundays only) – all filled with antiques, collectibles, handmade items. Stop in and discover it for yourself.
Great Gift Idea! DCBA (Downtown Cumberland Gift Certificates) are available at The Book Center and may be used at any DCBA member’s business. You may find out who is a DCBA member online at www.visitcumberland.org
WINING & DINING
Find out what restaurants/pubs are offering outdoor dining, carry out and/or delivery at www.visitcumberland.org
Ristorante Ottaviani, 25 N. Centre Street. For the remainder of the summer, we will be open from 5 pm-close, Tuesday- Sunday. Reservations are recommended, especially on weekends.
Mezzos, 114 S. Centre Street –Specials · Wed 7/29 - Lasagna Dinner $7.50. A large serving of our Lasagna served with a Caporale's Roll. · Thu 7/30 - Burger Mania! $7.50. A Full-Size Sandwich with a quarter pound of Black Angus Burger served as Cajun Burger, Bacon, Mushroom, Swiss Burger w/ Sweet Horseradish, or Deluxe Burger with a side of Brew City Fries Get a DOUBLE Burger for $10.50. That’s 2 patties for a half a pound of Black Angus Burger total! · Fri 7/31 - Buffalo Chicken Pasta $7.50. A breaded and fried chicken breast topped with Bleu Cheese with Mild Buffalo Sauce over Penne Pasta.
JUST FOR KIDS AND FAMILIES
New Day Church is having an outdoor Family Movie Night on Friday, July 31st @ 7:30 PM! We will be watching Trolls 2. The movie will start @ 9:00 PM. Everything is free! Free movie, hot dogs, snacks, soda, and popcorn! Just bring chairs and blankets! We cannot wait to have you join us for this fun night! 15003 Wyoming Street. ** Please check back on Facebook in case we would need to reschedule due to rain. Rain Date — Friday, August 7th
Story Time in the Park – Every Tuesday and Thursday, 10 am. Grow your child's early literacy skills with a fun-filled time of book reading, singing, rhyming, moving, and creating with one of our amazing Program Specialists! Story Time in the Park will be held every Tuesday and Thursday at 10:00 AM in alternating parks throughout the county. Story Time in the Park is open to children of all ages. View the full schedule at https://www.alleganycountylibrary.info/outdoorstorytimes/.
Families are encouraged to bring a blanket or lawn chairs and enjoy Story Times while observing social distancing guidelines. Listen to several books designed to have fun, strengthen literacy skills and promote health outdoor adventures. Every child will receive free books and crafts to take home and enjoy all summer long. Story Times in the Park schedule is subject to change and are weather permitting. Masks are strongly encouraged. Families are asked to observe a distance of 6 feet from other families, children must stay with their families. Please visit the CDC's guide for visiting parks and recreational facilities before attending.
HEALTH & WELLNESS
Community Acupuncture –31 Baltimore Street, Suite 111, 303-564-5183. Acupuncture is a key component of Traditional Chinese Medicine in which thin needles are inserted into targeted areas of the body to restore the body back to homeostasis, or more simply, balance. We offer Acupuncture, Cupping, Tui Na, Nutritional, and Lifestyle Counseling.
HISTORY/MUSEUMS/ALLEGANY COUNTY TOURISM
Allegany County Tourism invites visitors and community members to celebrate our region’s story during the 2020 Mountain Maryland Photo Contest. Photos will be collected in four categories that fully capture the spirit of Allegany County: Small Towns, Scenic Landscapes, Outdoor Recreation, and Food and Beverage. Qualifying photo submissions will be eligible for $1,700 in cash prizes between the four categories. Submissions will be accepted ongoing from now until the deadline of Thursday, October 31, 2020. For complete details, full contest rules, and to upload photo submissions, please visit mdmountainside.com/photo-contest. For questions regarding the 2020 Mountain Maryland Photo Contest, please email [email protected].
Come back to the past! The Gordon-Roberts House is open for private tours. The Allegany County Historical Society is making their 3 sites available for private event bookings. The Gordon-Roberts House, Union Grove Schoolhouse and The Brooke-Whiting House can be rented for your small group gathering. Call or message for details - 301-777-8678, [email protected].
ENTERTAINMENT
1812 Brewery - 13006 Mason Road NE · Thursday, July 30 Ken Nolan and Mike Harpold, Mise en Place · Friday, July 31 Playing for Pennies, Klavuhn’s Family Concessions · Saturday, August 1 Night Traveler, Klavuhn’s Family Concessions · Sunday, August 2 1812 Flea/Craft Market
Charis Winery – Come out and listen to music on the patio with Ella and Rick. Enjoy your favorite Charis wines! Friday, July 31, 6-8 pm.
Mezzos - Savage Mountain Punk Fest 2021 – August 12 – 15. Join us for three days of punk rock in Western Maryland! Bands to be announced.
ART
Saturday, August 8, 5–7 pm, Allegany Arts Council, 9 N. Centre Street. The Allegany Arts Council, Allegany County Public Library System, Frostburg State University Center for Literary Arts and the Community Trust Foundation are proud to present the 15th Annual Backbone Mountain Review! Join us for a launch party to celebrate the artists represented in the 2020 issue, and listen firsthand as they share powerful stories, poetry, and imagery. This event is free and open to the public. Light refreshments will be served.
The Allegany Arts Council is pleased to announce Emergence: The Artistry of the Appalachian Pastel League, a group exhibition to take place July 25-August 22, 2020 in the Saville Gallery. The Appalachian Pastel League is a group of artists and pastel enthusiasts who meet quarterly for workshops and opportunities to explore the medium. Workshops typically occur at the Allegany Arts Council and both members and non-members are welcome. If you or someone you know is interested in joining the Appalachian Pastel League, please contact the group at [email protected]. In light of the current COVID-19 crisis and statewide restrictions, no public opening of this exhibition will take place.
JOB/CHARITABLE/VOLUNTEER /OPPORTUNITIES
Love dogs and cats? The Allegany County Animal Shelter is looking for volunteers to help at the shelter. Applications and information are available at www.alleganyanimalshelter.com. ACAS is the only municipal no-kill shelter in the state of Maryland.
Not a member of the Downtown Cumberland Business Association (DCBA)? Even if you don’t have a business in Downtown Cumberland, you can join as a Friend of DCBA. Membership forms are available at www.visitcumberland.org. Join in and support the efforts of Downtown Cumberland businesses in keeping our Downtown alive and vibrant. For a complete schedule of events, visit www.visitcumberland.org. If you and/or your business have any Downtown Cumberland special events, sales, etc. you would like to include in this weekly email, please send the information to [email protected]
submitted by Gopherbear to Cumberland_Maryland [link] [comments]


2020.07.13 22:16 the-internet-account A sci-fi type story I wrote without paying much attention to the rules of writing so I could focus more on the actually story.

Floyd was a fifteen year old boy who lived in the city of Cumberland, Maryland. He was tall, pale, and had reddish-brown hair. He was in ninth grade. At school, he had plenty of friends, but his best friend was his cousin, Julian, who was still in eighth grade. Julian was also tall and had black hair. Floyd and Julian had been friends for their entire lives. Since they lived in the same neighborhood, Floyd hung out with Julian every weekend and spent the night at his house, or invited Julian over to spend the night. They played video games, went on long walks, and drew pictures together. One day, they were hanging out at Julian’s house and decided to go for a walk. They were walking down the street when they saw a car drive by. It parked in the driveway of the house next to Julian’s. “Who’s that?” Floyd asked. “I don’t know, I’ve never seen that car before.” Through the car windows, they could see it was full of boxes. “I guess they’re just moving in,” Julian said. “That’s cool, you have new neighbors.” The back seat door opened up, and a girl stepped out. She was a little shorter than the boys, and had long, brown hair. “She’s hot,” Floyd said. “I noticed,” Julian replied. The girl noticed them looking at her and smiled at them. She started walking towards them. “Hi guys, are you my neighbors now?” She said. “I guess so. I’m Julian and this is my cousin Floyd. Nice to meet you.” “The pleasure is mine,” she said, as she held out her hand to shake theirs. “My name is Molly.” The boys shook hands with her and said goodbye. They continued on their walk in silence for a few minutes. “Well Julian, I’ll admit I’m a bit jealous that Molly doesn’t live closer to my house,” Floyd said jokingly. Julian laughed. “Don’t worry Floyd, she’s not important right now.”
Within a week, Molly had become a member of Floyd and Julian’s close friendship. Whenever Floyd invited Julian over, he called Molly over too, and Julian did the same. The three of them got together every night to play board games and eat dinner. Molly went to school with Floyd. They rode the bus home together everyday and then walked to Julian’s house together. As Floyd got to know Molly better, he began to have feelings for her. He noticed that she wasn’t just hot, she was beautiful. Floyd loved how Molly was always kind and had strong opinions about doing the right thing. Floyd decided he would tell Molly how he felt. He was very nervous, and practiced saying the words for days. On a Friday night, he made up his mind. He would tell her tomorrow. He went to bed that night feeling very warm inside. Floyd woke up the next morning at ten o’clock. He jumped out of bed, got dressed, ate breakfast, brushed his teeth, and left the house. It was a beautiful sunny day. Floyd heard people mowing their lawns outside and watched enormous fluffy clouds roll by in the sky. It’s the perfect day to tell her, Floyd thought. He started heading to Molly’s house. As he approached the house, his heart was racing. He was very nervous but far more excited. From the end of the street, Floyd saw Molly’s front door open and she stepped outside. He stopped walking. Someone else stepped outside after her. It was Julian. Floyd felt awkward about expressing his feelings with Julian nearby. He watched Molly turn around to face Julian. Then they kissed. Floyd took a few seconds to process what he had just seen. It struck him like a spear to heart. He watched Julian leave Molly’s house and enter his own. Floyd stood motionless in the street. His mind was blank. He was still shocked at the terrible event he had watched. He didn’t move until someone drove up behind him and beeped. Floyd sulked back to his house and spent the remainder of the day in bed.
Floyd was devastated. He stayed home from school for an entire week, and never left his house. Julian and Molly tried knocking on his door, but he never answered. When Floyd returned to school, he refused to look at Molly. Julian and Molly had no idea what caused Floyd to ignore them. They were very sad that he suddenly left their group without even giving them a reason. But Floyd was the saddest of all. All he could think about was that dreadful kiss, and every time he thought of it, he felt worthless. He only wanted Molly to be his. So he came up with a plan. He would fight Julian, and the winner would get Molly. Floyd didn’t like the thought of fighting his lifelong best friend. He thought it sounded sort of barbaric and primitive, but it was his best idea. Once this idea had become concrete in his mind, and he was sure it was the best option, Floyd relaxed a bit. He was still upset and on edge, but less so than before.
Meanwhile, light years away from Floyd and Julian and the rest of the planet, a ship made its way across the empty voice of space. The ship was alien, created by a race called the Scorthiax. A Scorthiax soldier resembles a tall, human-sized squid or octopus, with an elongated skull and large, black eyes. They have wide mouths full of large, venomous teeth. The venom is fed to the offspring to build up their tolerance. This is necessary because the venomous teeth were added to the species by means of genetic modification and eugenics. Despite working hard to add a venom tolerance gene to the species, the Scorthiax race has already become too large and intergalactic to spread the gene to all regions of its territory. The ship was following a path that led directly to Earth, but it wouldn’t arrive for another two years. One Scorthiax soldier who had been monitoring the radar had just noticed Earth, and noticed the large quantity of life it contained. The soldier quickly made the decision to wipe out the population of Earth before the ship arrived. It loaded one of the ship’s cannon and fired an object towards Earth at a much greater speed than the ship itself. The object would arrive in a week.
After Floyd convinced himself that the fight would be the way in which he would get to have Molly to himself, he did everything he could to make sure he won it. He knew he was already stronger than Julian, so he focused on fighting technique. Julian had been taking karate class for over a year now. Floyd thought between his strength and Julian’s skill, either of them could win. Floyd practiced quick punches, powerful kicks, and worked on plenty of other fighting techniques. After a week of non stop practicing, Floyd knew he was ready. He left his house and gathered Julian and Molly at the creek behind Julian’s house. Julian and Molly were now openly dating and they stood very close to each other, making Floyd nervous and angry. “Floyd, what’s going on with you? You’ve been ignoring us for two weeks,” Molly said. “Yeah seriously dude, what’s up? Are you mad about something?” Julian added. Floyd stood in front of them silently for a while, practicing in his head what he would say next. “I’m sorry guys, there’s something I need to tell you.” The others looked at him, waiting. “I really like you Molly. And two weeks ago, I saw you kiss Julian. I was depressed for a long time, but now I’m ready to do this. Julian, you will fight me, and the winner takes Molly.” The listeners were shocked, Molly especially. They stood with their mouths wide open until Molly said, loudly and angrily, “Are you serious?” This time, Floyd was shocked. “Don’t get mad Molly. Yes I’m se-” Molly cut him off. “You actually think that fighting Julian like an animal will make me want to date you?” Floyd was starting to sweat. Julian spoke up. “Floyd, we don’t need to fight. Let’s just talk about this. I had no idea you liked Molly. I should’ve checked with you before dating her.” Floyd was confused. His plan was making him look bad, and Molly seemed further away now than ever. Julian approached Floyd and tried to put his hand on his shoulder. Floyd backed away. “Come on, Floyd. We can work this out,” Julian said. Molly stood behind Julian with an annoyed face aimed at Floyd. “I’m sorry Molly, I love you,” Floyd said. “Please don’t be mad.” Molly said nothing. Floyd stepped forward and tried to kiss Molly, and Julian pushed him away from her. Floyd fell to the ground. “Not cool. She’s still my girlfriend you know,” Julian said. “You’re insane, Floyd,” Molly snapped. “Let’s go, Julian.” They walked away from Floyd, who was laying on his back and staring up at the sky. He lay there, feeling completely empty. Not sad, not angry, just empty. Before he knew it, the sky was dark. He stood up and collected himself. Why am I like this? He cursed himself. He looked back up and saw stars appearing on the sheet of dark blue. A bright star caught his eye. He was raised to know it was silly to do so, but he proceeded to wish upon this star. He closed his eyes and wished: I just want Molly. She’s the only thing on my mind, every night and every day. She’s so beautiful… He opened his eyes, and gasped. The star was much brighter now. It appeared to have a halo of fire around it. Floyd tried to get a better look at it, and it continued to get brighter and bigger. He realized what it was. A meteor, speeding directly at him. He ran fast to get away from where it would land, but it was difficult to judge exactly where it would. He slowed down to figure out where it was going, and it still seemed to be heading straight for him. He sprinted further into the woods. He kept running, not looking bad to see where it was. The ground in front of him lit up from the fireball right behind him. As he frantically jumped forward, the baseball-sized meteor struck him in the back with a deafening boom, and it dug a hole through his chest. It shattered his spine and boiled the flesh around the spot of impact. His heart was vaporized.
Inside Julian’s house, he and Molly were on the couch, leaning their heads against each other under a blanket with a movie in front of them. The movie was “Texas Chainsaw Massacre”. Molly looked up at Julian with an unhappy face. “I feel bad for Floyd. I shouldn’t have yelled at him,” she said. “It’s ok, we’ll figure it out tomorrow. What a crazy day.” “I want him back in the group with us. It’s not even a group without him.” “I know, I miss him too. Trust me, it’s going to be fine. We’ll get him over here first thing tomorrow.” “You make everything so easy. I love you.” “I love you too, Molly.”
Floyd’s body lay quietly in the night of the woods. A pool of blood had formed around it. His mouth was agape, and eyes were open, lifelessly watching the yellow daffodils flourishing arrogantly next to his corpse. The tunnel in his body through which the meteor has traveled was burnt black, and his internal organs near the hole were still audibly simmering. The grass under him adjusted to the weight of the dead boy, and eventually the sun shone on Floyd’s grey face. That sun drifted over the sky and disappeared once again. It was night again. It was day again. Night. Day. Three days, four days, five days, six days, seven days, eight days, nine days. The purple corpse was full of worms, and it smelled like untimely death. Maggots wriggled throughout the gaping hole in Floyd’s chest, eating away at his well cooked meat. The daffodils were probably the healthiest in the entire town. Another night came, carrying a full yellow moon on its back. At midnight, a local coyote caught the scent of the child’s demise. It approached the scene and sniffed around, unaware of the horror that a human in the same situation would have experienced. The coyote recognized the boy as edible meat, and it howled at the moon. Soon, four more coyotes appeared, two of them were galloping pups. The dogs were awaiting the signal from the largest coyote, the leader of the pack. It inspected the flesh, and gave the signal. All of the dogs old enough to do so sunk their teeth into all different parts of Floyd. They ripped and tore with their claws and mouths. The clumped blood that was still resting in Floyd’s veins was spilled and sprayed across the surrounding grass and coyotes. One glance at this frenzy from conscious human eyes would’ve summoned the use of the word “mutilated”. But then the dogs stopped. They sensed someone nearby. They raised their crimson lips from their meal to scan the darkness around them, but found nobody. They continued eating. A mother stripped off a line of belly flesh and dropped it into a little pup’s drooling jaws. The offspring chewed and tasted the delicacy of human flesh for ten seconds, swallowed, and leaped upon the body to beg for more, but a four fingered hand grabbed the dog and slammed it onto the ground. The rest of the coyotes jumped back and yipped. Slowly, the gored being raised itself from the grass and brought its other hand onto the neck of the poor infant coyote. A quick snap brought darkness upon the pup for good. Floyd’s body was alive. Without thinking, he lifted the pup to his mouth and punctured its neck with his teeth. The watching coyotes whimpered and ran off into the forest. Floyd took his time picking the little body apart, and consumed each component with great ecstasy. At last, when the sky was brightening up, Floyd licked his dark red fingers and erased all evidence that the baby dog had ever existed. Looking down at his body, Floyd saw his zombie-like form, and noticed parts of him that should’ve been attached, but weren’t. His left foot was gone, several large chunks of skin and flesh were missing from his arms, legs, torso, neck, and face, and there was of course a four inch wide hole through his nonexistent heart. He stood up slowly, balancing himself on his one foot and footless leg. He felt like he wasn’t thinking straight. Trying hard to keep his balance and stay upright, Floyd hobbled through the woods until he reached the back door to his house. Nobody was home. He went inside and took a long, hot shower. The water flowed down his skin and turned a deathly reddish-black, then disappeared into the drain. Floyd scrubbed his gashes hard with soap to clean them out. He had to keep his hand against the wall to stay standing. When he left the shower and dawned a towel around his back, he stopped to look in the mirror. He was shocked. At first, he was shocked from the deepness of his wounds and the horror his own image instilled in him, then he realized that he was more shocked at the severe improvement the shower had made on him since he was in the woods. His wounds seemed much more shallow than they were, and he was only bleeding a little bit. He raised his footless ankle to the mirror and examined it. The bone was visible and sharp. Floyd tapped the bone to test its sturdiness. Then he fell back onto the tiled floor with his eyes wide open and his mind screaming as he made a terrifying realization. He felt no pain. What the fuck?! What happened to me?! He stood up and leaned close to the mirror. He gently touched a gash on his face. He felt no sensation. He dug his finger deeper into the cut and still, he felt nothing. What the fuck…
Molly sat up in her bed, and cried. She lay back down and let the tears flow onto the sheets, surrounding her face in a moat of sadness. Ten minutes later, she was pouring herself a bowl of cereal. “Julian!” she called. He had spent the night at her house in the guest bedroom. He walked into the kitchen. “Hey. Want some cereal?” Molly asked. “Yeah, thanks.” Julian sat down at the kitchen bar. Molly poured two bowls of Koala Crisp and gave one to Julian. Molly walked around the bar and sat down next to Julian. They ate quietly until their bowls were empty. “I can’t believe he just vanished,” Molly said. Julian looked down into his empty bowl. “Neither can I. He’s my own cousin. I still feel like it’s my fault.” “No Julian… if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine too. But nobody is to blame. Floyd just had a panic attack or a mental breakdown or something. He must’ve been obsessed with me, and we just threw him on the ground and walked away. I feel terrible for immediately yelling at him when he expressed his feelings for me.” Julian put his arm around Molly. “We’ll go out and look for him again today. I’m sure he’s just out staying with some family member or friend.” “His parents have no idea where he is! They’ve asked everyone! Cumberland is riddled with Missing posters of his face!” Molly yelled, and she raised her hands to cry into them. “I know, but still. I’m positive that he’s okay, he’s not the type of person to just disappear.”
Floyd’s sense of pain was returning. He was sitting in the corner of his bathroom, in a small puddle of blood. Every once in a while, his level of pain would increase around the damaged areas, his missing foot hurt the most. He was shaking. His pain still had not reached its original state, yet Floyd was in the most pain he had ever experienced. Floyd didn’t know this, but the meteor that struck him was the object sent from the far away Scorthiax ship. It wasn’t just a meteor. It contained something completely unknown to the human race, and that thing had administered a strong anesthetic chemical into Floyd’s body, reducing his pain to nothing. But now the chemical was wearing off. Floyd felt like he was being tortured. At first, he was incredulous when he found himself alive with such immense damage done to his body, but now he wished to be dead again. Floyd crawled across the floor, leaving a trail of smeared blood behind him. He lowered himself gently into the bathtub and started filling it with hot water. When it was full, he turned off the faucet. The water was a solid pink from his open cuts. Floyd tried to focus on the heat of the water and forget all about his suffering. He leaned back, closed his eyes and dozed off in the tub.
He woke up, still submerged to his chin in now cold red water. He stood up, yawned, and stepped out of the tub with an easiness that confused him. He couldn’t figure out why it confused him. He looked down at his feet. His feet. Two feet looked back at him. His left foot looked like it was molded from the skin of a baby. He wiggled all his toes and shook his ankle back and forth. He was not dreaming. What… Floyd then noticed that his pain was once again diminished completely. He ran up to the mirror again. His wounds were healed. Everywhere he had been bitten and impaled had been replaced with smooth, new skin. Floyd had a thought. He opened the cabinet behind the mirror and grabbed a razorblade. He hesitated to rethink what he would do next, and then dragged the razor along the palm of his hand. Blood trickled out, and Floyd winced at the sharp pinching feeling. He could still feel pain. Floyd left the bathroom and walked into his kitchen. He sat down to think. He remembered the night the meteor had hit him; he even remembered the date. That was April 25th. Floyd looked at the clock on the oven that told the day of the month. Today was May 6th. I was laying in the woods for ten days? He was extremely confused at everything that had happened since he met back up with Julian and Molly that day. Floyd noticed the hand he had cut with a razor. It was healed.
Floyd knew he had to talk to his friends. He left the house, and eventually he was walking up to Julian’s front door. He knocked and waited. He was too nervous to wait for a reply, so he opened the door and went upstairs to Julian’s bedroom. Julian was sitting in his chair, and Molly was across the room on a couch. When they saw Floyd, they looked at each other for a second, and then jumped up out of their seats. Molly ran up to Floyd and hugged him. “Jesus Christ, you’re alive! Where the hell have you been?! We’ve all been looking for you for over a week!” Molly spurted, relieved to see Floyd again. Julian stood aside and added, “So glad to see you’re okay, Floyd. We were seriously worried. You told us nothing, where were you?” “I was… in the woods,” Floyd said. “What do you mean?” Molly asked. “It’s hard to explain, but I’m kind of freaked out. Can I borrow a razor blade?” “A razor blade? What? Why?” Julian asked. “You’ll see, I just need one, please.” Julian went into the bathroom and returned with the blade. Floyd took it. “Okay guys, watch this.” Floyd stuck out his hand, and repeated what he did in his house. “Floyd, stop!” Molly yelled. She tried to take the razor blade from him, but he backed up. “Guys, it’s okay, it will heal. Just watch.” The others watched Floyd’s bloodied hand. Surely enough, it began sealing itself up again. “Oh my god…” Julian whispered. Floyd was happy that he had friends with him to witness the insanity of this, but his mind was not stable. He watched their faces react to the sealing wound, and thought about something. Oh my… Jesus… Why did I just think of that? It was an alarming, cruel thought. Even though it disgusted him, his mind simultaneously felt a strong, euphoric feeling. He had pictured himself hacking off the heads of both of his best friends with an axe, and it felt great. He hated the thought, and at the same time he adored the sensation it gave him. Similar to a drug addict who knows crystal meth ruined his life, yet he continues to use it for the incredible feeling. But Floyd did not want himself to think those thoughts. The longer he stood there with them, more and more bad thoughts came to him, each carrying with it a feeling and a voice telling him to do it, do it Floyd, cut off their heads. Bite into their necks and cover yourself with their warm blood. Rip their teeth out, cave their skulls in, shatter their spines. Do it, Floyd, do it, do it now. Floyd had his eyes closed tight to shut out the thoughts. He was sweating and shaking. “Floyd, are you okay? You look awful,” Julian said. “Yeah… I need to go…” Floyd sputtered. He turned around and ran out of the house.
Julian and Molly stood speechless in Julian’s room. They looked at each other. “We should go see what’s wrong with him,” Molly said. “Maybe not. He’s clearly going through a lot. Let’s give him some rest.” “Okay… you’re right. How about a movie?” “Sure, which one?” “Another scary one… How about ‘Nightmare on Elm Street’?” “Yeah, let’s go.” The two walked downstairs and set themselves up with popcorn and icecream. Julian put the movie on, and they leaned against each other like last time. At about an hour into the movie, Molly stood up. “I’m using the bathroom. Don’t pause it.” She walked away. Julian sat alone in front of the screen. Freddy Kreuger was slicing up a young girl. The girl let out a classic blood-curdling scream. Julian chuckled at the absurdity of the film. He grabbed a handful of popcorn. The TV turned off. “What the…” Julian said to himself. He picked up the remote with his popcorn free hand and pressed the power button. The television stayed off. Underneath the door, he saw the light in the kitchen go out. There were no lights on, and it was ten o'clock at night. Julian was surrounded by pitch black darkness. “Very funny, Molly. Come on, I know it’s you.” He listened, but only heard dead silence. He still believed Molly to be behind this, but he also began to feel afraid. “Come on out, you got me!” Julian said into the room. Quiet. He looked out the window at the black night sky. It had a threatening purple tint. When his eyes had adjusted to the dark, he got up from the couch. He made his way into the kitchen and then the bathroom. The lights were off. Molly was absent. “Hey. Are you in here?” He called. Once again, a reply of silence. Thunder boomed and shook the house. Julian’s heart skipped a beat. Fuck… I almost had a heart attack. Julian went back into the kitchen and stood at the window. He saw wind shake the tops of the trees out there, but there was no rain. A bright purple lightning bolt shot down from the clouds, illuminating the sky. More thunder followed immediately afterwards. What is going on… Julian opened his front door and stepped outside. The silence was replaced with the sound of wind shaking all the trees. It blew harder now, bending the trees to the right as if they were kneeling before a great god. Dark and ominous clouds moved in unison across the sky, creating the illusion that the sky itself was moving. Another flash of lightning. Julian watched it spread its white tendrils over the air. He saw a figure in the sky. He staggered back, taking a step into his house. No way… He didn’t believe what he had seen. Another bolt. He saw nobody this time. He cursed his imagination for making him think he saw a person, just floating high up in the sky, with a flowing purple cloak… “Hello.” “Shit!” Julian screamed. “Who… Who’s there?! Molly? Hello? Who was that?!” Julian was breathing hard. He gulped. A bead of sweat trickled down his neck. The voice he thought he heard had come from behind him, inside the kitchen. Julian found the lightswitch by the door and flicked it once, three times. It was useless. He took a step forward, into the dark room. He could make out shapes of furniture and walls, but shadows were everywhere. “Is this Floyd? Is this some stupid prank? Huh?! Who said that?” Julian tried to calm down. He tried to tell himself it was just Molly or Floyd, or both, playing a sick prank on him. But the voice… It was so different. It had hummed and whistled and rasped at the same time, and there seemed to be a strong tone of hatred buried under the singular word it had uttered. It terrified Julian to his core, and it had only spoken one word… It’s just a friend… or a dream… I’m probably dreaming. Wake up. God damn it, wake up Julian. “Not a dream, Julian.” This time, Julian stayed quiet. The speaker knew his thoughts. Wake up Julian, wake the FUCK up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake- “Don’t be stupid, Julian.” Julian knew by now that he was not being pranked, and he was not dreaming. He was frozen in terror. “St- stay the fuck away from me! Who are you?! Get the f- fuck away!” “I am your Bane.” “Bane? Wh- what do you mean?” “You are a foolish one.” “What are you t- talking about? Tell me who you are!” The door now behind Julian was still wide open. The wind outside grew to a mystifying howl, and the trees thrashed violently side to side, snapping off branches and filling the air with new green leaves. “I am the Void Bringer. I am the End.” As a bolt of lightning crackled outside, the kitchen illuminated for a split-second. In that seemingly insignificant amount of time while the shadows were weakened, Julian beheld a figure standing in the corner so haunting that it would remain in his nightmares for the rest of his life. When the darkness returned, Julian stood frozen with his mouth screaming silent cries for help, and a tear trickling down from his right eye. “I will come for you soon. Don’t go anywhere.” The light flicked on. The room was empty. Molly appeared at the bathroom doorway. “Julian? Why is the front door open?”
The Void Bringer is an entity from a withered dimension. Its home is a unique world, full of whispering shadows and crooked voices. In this world, there are laws that don’t apply to our home universe. This twisted place is known as ShadowHell-b4n3. Informally, some call it the Serpent’s Bane, after its twisting, slithering form, and the coincidence of its identification string appearing to spell the word “bane”. Here, the Void Bringer is one of many cursed beings who all follow a freakish type of religion known as Unel. It is the belief that the enigma of life is putrid and foul. Followers of Unel believe that all life should be viciously put to an end, and sacrificed to the Ex-Spirit of Eternity, or Un. When this happens, the victim’s soul is believed to suffer until the end of time, as a reminder of the Inferiority of Life to the Supreme Anti-Spirited. When a rift between dimensions began to form with the help of advanced Scorthiax technology, a path opened up and allowed the inhabitants of the Serpent’s Bane to cross over into our world. The rift was weak at first, only allowing beings to stay for a maximum of twelve minutes at a time, but it grew stronger with every day. The Void Bringer was the first to come, and its ultimate purpose was to occupy a physical form and introduce Unel, the faith of hatred, to the new universe.
Floyd was in his bedroom, rocking back and forth on the floor with his eyes shut tight. He couldn’t think of his best friends without a sickly invigorating image of death coming to his mind. Why... is this happening… His mind was deteriorating. He was going insane. It was the meteor that caused this. Within the flaming rock sent by the Scorthiax, a gift for Earth was hidden. It was a prion, an unstable and highly complex protein. It had been the cause of an almost complete extinction of the Scorthiax population inhabiting a planet called Q381-892. It is contracted when it enters the bloodstream of an organism, but once it infects one host, it can’t be spread to anyone until the first host dies. The effects of the prion are as follows: mental instability, hyperproduction of adrenaline, enhanced physical strength, cannibalism and obsessive meat consumption, euphoric sensation and occasional nervous collapse when in the presence of bloodshed, and extreme violent tendencies. The galactic prion is called Lytta’s Disease. Floyd couldn’t stop himself from thinking awful thoughts. He got up and went to the kitchen, where he poured himself a glass of water. The stress his mind was under made him hot and thirsty. Through the kitchen window, Floyd saw a rabbit chewing grass in his yard. He set down his glass. His muscles tensed up and twitched rapidly. He suddenly walked towards the door and threw it open. The rabbit bolted away. Floyd sprinted after it. He jumped over a bush until he reached a fence; he knew the rabbit didn’t cross to the other side of the fence. He searched around himself for its brown furry body. It was frozen underneath a rose bush, facing away from Floyd. He approached the bush slowly and quietly. When he was directly over the rabbit’s head with the rose bush in between the two, he threw his hands down and seized the neck of the creature. He snapped it fast and immediately dug his teeth into the rabbit’s face. Unexpectedly, the memory of devouring the small coyote puppy came to him. Then he made the mistake of thinking about what he was doing. He pulled his face away from the dead bunny, and saw he had already eaten its entire upper half. Fuck… What am I doing? He tried putting it down but his body wouldn’t let him. He bit into the raw bloody meat again, and pulled his head away again instantly. I can’t stop… It’s so fucking tempting. So delicious… so bloody. Floyd quickly consumed the rest. He still had particles of bloody fur and meat covering his hands and face. This was too much for Floyd. His eyes rolled back into his head and a smile grew wide on his face. He began to shake and fell over backwards, hitting his head on the fence and collapsing onto the grass. He stayed shaking and laughing maniacally for half an hour, and then he passed out completely and dreamt of meat.
It was night. Julian’s home was quiet. At his request, Molly had agreed to spend the night with Julian. They lay together in bed. Molly was sound asleep, and Julian was wide awake. He broke down after the encounter he had had with the Void Bringer, and he begged Molly to stay next to him all night. Now, he stared at the ceiling of his bedroom and jumped at things that weren’t even there. It said it’d be back… soon. No, what’s happening to me? What caused me to hallucinate such a terrifying thing? It wasn’t real, it couldn’t have been. I’m just going crazy from the stress Floyd has put me under. He vanished for over a week, and now he comes back with some insane razor blade prank to freak me out even more. It’s not his fault… I know he’s struggling, but I have limits. That’s what caused the hallucination, it had to be. After he convinced himself that stress made him hallucinate, Julian tried to relax. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Goodnight Molly,” he whispered. “Goodnight Julian,” she mumbled back. “Not yet, Julian.” Julian gasped and opened his eyes. He recognized the voice, and his heart rate doubled in seconds. His eyes shot around the room looking for the terrifying face. “No…” Julian moaned. Molly sat up in bed and spoke with a trembling voice. “Hello? Who said that?” “Wait…” Julian said. “You heard it too?” “Of course I did. Is someone else in here?” “That was the voice of the thing I saw earlier. If you heard it… it must be real.” “Hello again, Julian.” From the corner of the room, it emerged. Its face was concealed in the darkness, but Julian still recognized the mortifying figure. When Molly saw it, she screamed and backed into the corner opposite the beast. “S- stay away from us! What do you want?” Molly whimpered. “I need Julian. I need him to come with me.” “Why do y- you need me? Are you going to hurt me?” Julian asked. “Eventually. But first, I need you alive.” “I’m not going anywhere with you. Get the fuck away from us!” After Julian said this, the monster seemed to fade away into the surrounding darkness of the room. “Julian! Did you see that?! It just disappeared!” Molly was hyperventilating and had sweat coating her forehead. She moved her eyes from the corner where the being had been. Julian’s side of the bed was empty and cold. “Julian…?”
When Floyd woke up, he felt great. Every time a thought of blood or ripping flesh entered his mind, he felt a rush of joy come over him. The only thing that felt better to him than thinking about dead meat was killing an animal himself. His ultimate, mind numbingly ecstatic thought was killing a human being with his bare hands. The mind Floyd used to reason with and love with was now buried by the corrupt, cannibalistic beast he had become. After he woke up on the grass, he went into his bedroom and grabbed his Swiss Army knife. His family was out making more “missing” flyers with Floyd’s old happy face on them. His father however was at home, asleep on the couch in the living room. Floyd saw his dad and approached him with the knife in his hand. He felt a pleasant wave rush over him as he thought of all the skin he would soon slice open. He stood over the man smiling and licking his lips with anticipation. But a voice came up from his buried normal conscience telling him to back up and leave. Leave forever and kill everyone else, but not his family. The voice was too strong to ignore, so Floyd put the knife in his pocket and walked out of his house.
On the Scorthiax starship, Professor Gleezth informed his superiors of the potential catastrophe that could result from their new machine’s dimensional instability. The Rift Walker was a machine that could theoretically travel infinite distances in an instant by transporting through neighboring universes and re-entering the correct universe in a new location. Some universes have different systems of distance, so by opening a door to a new universe, traveling the correct, finite distance, and then returning to their universe from the new location in the other universe, they could go anywhere. The machine was designed to spend as little time as possible in another universe to avoid physical and mental trauma among the passengers of the starship. It is widely known throughout the galaxy that other universes have other laws that our bodies are not accustomed to. The Rift Walker avoids entering universes built from four spacial dimensions at all costs because most three-dimensional living beings that enter a four dimensional environment immediately die. Their atoms get displaced so far from their original state and they become a mess of fleshy soup. The Void Bringer is a forty-three dimensional being.
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2020.04.17 17:10 kaitie_cakes Healthcare worker discounts during COVID

Here is a list of free/ discount items for healthcare workers during this COVID time from various companies! Some may be regional or have limitations.

Clothing
CROCS Sharing a Free Pair for Health Care – Crocs is donating a free pair of shoes including free shipping to healthcare workers on the frontlines of COVID-19. Colors, patterns and quantities subject to availability.
Big Lots 15% OFF everything, every day at Biglots now thru April 30th. Just show your badge, work or military ID to cashier or use code BIGHEROES online at checkout and use our new curbside pick-up!
Under Armour 40% off Under Armour purchases for all military, first responders, and healthcare providers.
Dearfoams Dearfoams is giving away free slippers to healthcare workers to make their time off a little more cozy. Sign upon their website. Dearfoams has also committed to donating 100,000 face masks to healthcare heroes.
Dollar General Popular retailer Dollar General is offering a 10% discount on qualifying purchases to all medical personnel, first responders, and activated National Guardsmen. Just present your employer badge or ID. This offer is currently good through April 30, 2020 and may be extended further.
Dr. Scholl’s Dr. Scholl's is donating 100,000 pairs of insoles to healthcare workers across the country. Hospitals can email [email protected] to submit a request for their medical staff.
Universal Standard Apparel company Universal Standard is offering a free piece of clothing from their Foundation line of soft tees, bodysuits, and tanks to nurses, doctors, and medical workers in the U.S. while supplies last. Email a photo of your credential to [email protected] to receive this offer.
Clove Clove is a healthcare apparel company. They are offering free compression socks with every Clove purchase. Just add a pair of socks to a cart containing shoes, and use code WITHLOVE for the discount to properly apply.
Gabe's Gabe's Stores are offering a 15% employee savings to medical professionals, first responders, police, fire, and military personnel. The discount can be used toward personal care items, scrubs, cleaning supplies, antibacterial soaps, baby and pet care, and more.
Medelita Medical workers can receive a 30% discount on Medelita scrubs by using code FRONTLINES at checkout.
Saxx Underwear Frontline workers including medical staff, grocers, sanitation workers, transport crews, police, and more are eligible for a 30% discount on Saxx Underwear. Follow the directions on the link to receive your discount
NorthFace From April 14, 2020 to Dec. 31, 2020 we will be giving a 50% discount to healthcare workers in the United States. This discount can be used for the purchase of non-sale items on thenorthface.com and at The North Face-owned retail stores in the United States. During this same period we will also be offering these individuals a 10% discount on non-clearance items at our outlet stores in the United States.

Food and Drinks
Starbucks Starting today through May 3rd, any customer who identifies as a front-line responder to the COVID-19 outbreak will receive a tall brewed coffee (hot or iced) at no charge.
Circle K FREE coffee, tea and Polar Pop Fountain to first responders and health care workers on the front line until April 30! To redeem, simply visit any participating Circle K and show a valid ID.
Krispy Kreme Krispy Kreme is offering 2 dozen free Original Glazed donuts - Drive Thru Only to health care workers, any day of the week, now through May 11th. For more information, click here.
UBER Uber is providing free meals on Uber Eats for first responders and health care workers in coordination with local and state governments. Click here to learn more.
Hooters Hospital workers, first responders and military get 20% off. Show your work ID for pickup orders, or for online orders choose the “Pay at Store” option.
IHOP 20% off your entire check at IHOP if you’re a medical, law enforcement, military and firefighter professional. Just mention this offer when you call in your order to IHOP. Then, show your Official ID when you pick up your order.
COSTCO Costco is temporarily allowing priority access to their warehouses for Costco members who are healthcare workers, first responders such as police officers, EMTs and firefighters. Healthcare workers and first responders who present a Costco membership card and official identification of their role, will be allows to move to the front of any line to enter the warehouse.
Sam's Club Bulk goods clubhouse Sam's Club has announced that starting on April 19, it will implement "Hero Hours" for healthcare workers and first responders, which will take place every Sunday from 8am-10am. No membership will be required for Hero Hours and Sam's Club will provide masks to wear in-store. Please note that spouses and other family members or guests will not be allowed in the store for Hero Hours.
&pizza With locations in Washington D.C., Maryland, Virginia, Pennsylvania, New York, and Massachusetts, restaurant chain &pizza is offering free pizza to hospital workers. Stop in and present a valid ID, or text #HERO to 200-03 to receive a unique code to get the pie delivered.
Cumberland Farms Cumberland Farms is giving away free hot or iced coffee (any size!) to nurses, doctors, paramedics, hospital and medical staff, medical researchers, police officers, firefighters, and active military.
Fitcrunch Care Package Nominate your best friend at work to receive a care package from Fitcrunch. The care package is filled with a Fitcrunch bar, antibacterial wipes, and an uplifting note.
McDonald's In some regions, McDonald's is offering free breakfast (small coffee and Egg McMuffin sandwich) to healthcare workers, police officers, and firefighters with valid ID or uniform. This is currently offered in the Southern California region (San Diego, LA, Orange, Riverside, San Bernardino, Ventura, and Imperial Counties). We have heard rumors of this being offered in other areas; we will try to update if we can confirm more, but we recommend calling your local McDonald's to see if this offer is good near you.
Nando's Peri Peri Chicken Nando's Peri Peri Chicken is offering free meals to workers with a valid hospital ID through May 3. The free meal includes a 1/4 chicken with chips. Offer must be redeemed by phone order and is not valid for delivery or online ordering. Limit one meal per day while supplies last.
Pizza vs. Pandemic
Pizza vs. Pandemic is donating pizzas to hospitals, clinics, shelters and more. Suggest a care center on their website to be considered for donation.
RaceTrac RaceTrac gas stations throughout the South are offering a free small coffee or fountain drink to all essential workers through April 30.
Realgood Foods Do you have a friend you admire in the healthcare field right now? This care package of food may be right up their alley. Realgood Foods offers care packages full of healthy foods for your fellow healthcare provider to snack on during their busy shift.
Saffron Road Saffron Road, makers of world cuisine products, is honoring community heroes on the front lines - from healthcare workers to delivery people to grocery clerks. Email [email protected] with subject line "coupons" to tell them about a community hero and they will send you BOTH a coupon for a free meal or snack.
Sweetgreen If you are located in Washington D.C., Philadelphia, Boston, New York City, San Francisco, Los Angeles, Chicago, or Houston, Sweetgreen is delivering free salads and bowls to hospitals for the healthcare workers.
Wawa Convenience chain Wawa, which has locations in Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Maryland, Delaware, Virginia, Florida, and Washington D.C., is offering free coffee to healthcare workers and first responders for the length of the Coronavirus pandemic.
White Castle Hungry? White Castle is offering a free Castle Combo or breakfast combo to healthcare workers and EMTs, valid through the end of April. This is good for drive-thru only and you must show ID to receive the offer.
Genghis Grill All healthcare workers and first responders can receive 20% off carryout orders anytime at Genghis Grill locations. Just present your medical badge or ID.
Home Chef Home Chef is a meal delivery company that ships you all the fresh, pre-portioned ingredients needed to make great recipes at home. They are offering a special discount for nurses, doctors, hospital employees, first responders, military, and teachers - 50% off first purchase and 10% off subsequent purchases. This deal is good for new customers only. Verify with ID.me at checkout to get started. See link for more details.
Thistle Ready-to-eat food delivery company Thistle is offering 10% off all deliveries to healthcare workers for the next 8 weeks. Use code HOSPITALHEROES at checkout.

Mental and Emotional Support
Headspace “You’re here for them, we’re here for you.” Headspace is offering all US health care professionals who work in public health settings free access to Headspace Plus through 2020.
Coaches4Good If you need help navigating all this uncertainty, free 30-minute professional life coaching sessions are available to healthcare, small business, education, and nonprofit leaders and workers through Coaches4Good.
Down Dog To keep your physical and mental health strong, Down Dog is offering all of its apps - Down Dog, Yoga for Beginners, HIIT, Barre, and 7 Minute Workout - completely free for nurses, doctors, and other healthcare professionals through July 1. Fill out the form on the link to take advantage of this offer.
Furbo Dog Camera Are you missing Fido while everyone else is working from home? You can check in on your pup by filling out a form for a free Furbo Camera!
Neurocore Counseling You don't need to go through this alone. Neurocore Counseling is offering free telehealth counseling to medical personnel and first responders through May 1 (date may even be extended). It is private and completely confidential.
Nurses House Nurses House, a national fund for nurses in need, has established a special grant for RNs and LPNs who have been diagnosed with COVID-19, are caring for a family member who has COVID-19, or are on employer-mandated quarantine due to COVID-19 (excluding nurses who are furloughed due to workplace closure). The grant is open to nurses in the U.S. with a valid nursing license through July 31, 2020. Apply for the COVID-19 grant at the link on their webpage.
Speeko Nurses, physicians, and other healthcare professionals can receive free access to the Speeko app through 2020 by filling out the form on the link. The app coaches people on effective communication skills. Speeko also maintains a free list of COVID-19 communication resources on their website.

Discounts on Cars (Some offers are regional)
AAA Free Roadside Assistance This includes tire change, towing, fuel delivery, battery, and lock-out service. Call 833-222-3284. Present your company ID as proof you work for an essential business.
GM (Chevrolet, Buick, Cadillac, and GMC) Even before the coronavirus crisis, GM already has its First Responder Discount. This month, however, GM includes healthcare workers. All of which are now eligible for the GM Supplier Pricing – prenegotiated discount that's the same with dealer's invoice price plus a $200 program fee. Participating GM brands include Chevrolet, Buick, Cadillac, and GMC. This offer can be used in conjunction with other deals like the limited 0% financing for 84 months. Qualifications include proof of employment, like a paystub from the last 30 days. The offer stands until June 30, 2020 and is available nationwide.
Honda All Honda vehicles are eligible to be acquired through the Honda First Responder & Healthcare Professional Appreciation Program. A $500 discount is currently on offer when financing or leasing via Honda Financial, which becomes $750 if you're getting an Acura, except for the NSX and the limited-edition PMC models. Moreover, the discount can be combined with other incentives like Honda's $1,000 loyalty discount currently on offer this month. Also, CarsDirect reports that the 2020 Honda Pilot will be cheaper by $30 per month when compared to March. This offer from Honda is available through July 6, 2020.
Hyundai Hyundai is no stranger to efforts during this COVID-19 crisis. The Korean marque started offering its $500 First Responder Program on to healthcare professionals and hospital employees on April 3. Prior to this, this deal was exclusive to EMTs and firefighters. The $500 discount can be used in conjunction with Hyundai's current 0% APR for 84 months and the 120-day payment deferral (on some models).
Mazda Mazda is offering its First Responder & Healthcare Worker Appreciation Program for customers in the Northeast up until April 30, 2020. The program gives an extra $500 off any new Mazda vehicle, which can be combined with the company's loyalty discount up to $1,500 this month. According to CarsDirect, proof of eligibility for this Mazda offer includes pay stub, current business license, or other approved proof of employment or ownership of a healthcare facility.
Volvo Also offered in the Northeast, Volvo gives a loyalty discount for first responders, medical personnel and teachers. The discount entails $2,500 when buying and $2,000 when leasing Volvo vehicles. This offer ends on April 30, 2020. Those who would like to avail need to provide proof of eligibility which could come in the form of a current paystub.

Misc. Services
Care.Com Care.com is providing one month of free, premium access to our site to support your important service to the community at this difficult time. • Access the largest online site for care • Find help for your children, parents & pets • Unlimited messaging with caregivers. Free for 30 days
National Auto Collision Centers No contact estimates available and free towing, pickup and delivery. Discount on deductible for first responders, health care workers, military, UPS/Fedex/postal service employees/grocery & pharmacy employees and anyone who is currently out of work during the shutdown.
Love Sac Furniture company Love Sac is offering 40% off Sacs and Sectionals to nurses, doctors, first responders, military, and teachers. This offer is good through May.
Purple Mattress company Purple is offering a special 10% discount to healthcare workers - check the link to see who is eligible...many healthcare professions are included! Verify your eligibility through the link on their site to receive your discount.
BP BP and Amoco gas stations are offering a discount to first responders, doctors, nurses and hospital workers of 50 cents off per gallon to use on their next fill up. Simply verify your community status via ID.me to obtain the 50-cent per gallon discount.

If you know of any other companies offering discounts for healthcare workers, add them to the comments below! Stay safe, friends.
submitted by kaitie_cakes to OccupationalTherapy [link] [comments]


2020.03.10 10:39 Winstonp00 MEGATHREAD: Colleges announcing cancellations due to COVID-19

CHANGES: Due to more and more colleges cancelling, which is good because that was the point of this post, it is becoming increasingly difficult to keep up. Starting now, I will not add your university unless your comment specifically includes all of the info for me to add, in the format of Name, From, Until, and a source. Date announced is assumed to be the date you made your post, unless otherwise specified.
Thought it'd be nice to consolidate them somewhere. The below list is fairly close to chronological order. I suspect that the shutdowns announced on Monday have essentially forced a lot of colleges' hands into shutting down: any school that hasn't announced a shutdown by the end of today will just look bad. Here's the list of schools so far that have cancelled classes in some major capacity:
Vacate dorms means the school has asked all students to move out of dorms. Extended means the school had originally announced cancellations, but added more dates or restrictions following it.
School Date announced In effect from Effective until Precautions
University of Washington March 5 March 6 March 29
Lake Washington Institute of Technology March 5 March 6 March 22
Stanford University March 6 March 6 Indefinitely Vacate dorms; Extended
University of Southern California (USC) March 6 March 11 March 29 Extended
Seattle University March 6 March 9 March 29
Columbia University March 8 March 9 March 29 Extended
Rice University March 8 March 9 March 13
Princeton University March 8 March 23 Indefinitely
Fordham University March 8 March 9 Indefinitely
University of California, Berkeley March 9 March 10 End of semester Extended
New York University (NYU) March 9 March 11 March 29
University of California, San Diego March 9 March 30 End of Spring Quarter Lab classes can continue
Santa Clara University March 9 March 10 April 13
Vanderbilt University March 9 March 9 March 30
Amherst College March 9 March 12 Indefinitely Vacate dorms
San Francisco State University March 9 March 10 April 5
City College of San Francisco March 9 March 10 May 21
The Ohio State University March 10 March 10 Indefinitely Vacate dorms.
Harvard University March 10 March 15 Indefinitely Vacate dorms
San Jose State University March 10 March 10 March 13
Berea College March 10 March 13 Semester declared over Vacate dorms
Smith College March 10 March 30 Indefinitely Vacate dorms
American University March 10 March 18 April 3
Grinnell College March 10 March 23 Indefinitely Vacate dorms
Westchester University of Pennsylvania March 10 March 30 Rest of the semester
Rutgers University March 10 March 12 April 3
Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute March 10 March 12 March 30
Case Western Reserve University March 10 March 10 Indefinitely
University of California, Santa Cruz March 10 March 11 April 3 Lab classes can continue
Rowan University March 10 March 16 March 27 Spring break extended (not online class)
Indiana University March 10 March 23 April 5
Akron University March 10 March 10 Indefinitely Classes cancelled from today, will resume online after Spring Break
Kent State University March 10 March 10 April 12 Classes cancelled from today, will resume Monday
Texas A&M University March 10 March 10 March 18
Tiffin University March 10 March 10 March 29
University of Toledo March 10 March 16 Indefinitely
Skidmore College March 10 March 10 March 22
The New School March 10 March 23 March 27
Syracuse University March 10 March 13 March 29 Students are encouraged to leave ASAP
Sacred Heart University March 10 March 11 March 29 Lab classes can continue
University of New Haven March 10 March 10 March 25 Vacate dorms
University of California, Santa Barbara March 10 March 11 End of quarter Extended
University of California, Riverside March 10 March 11 Through Spring Quarter
Purdue University March 10 March 23 Indefinitely
Miami University March 10 March 10 April 12
Cornell University March 10 April 6 Indefinitely
Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) March 10 March 16 Indefinitely Vacate dorms
Babson College March 10 March 13 Indefinitely Vacate dorms
University of California, Davis March 10 March 16 March 20 In-person exams cancelled
University of Wisconsin, Milwaukee March 10 March 13 March 29 Spring break extended
Quinnipiac University March 10 March 16 March 22 Monday and Tuesday cancelled, begin online Wednesday
University of Dayton March 10 March 10 April 3 Two weeks break, two weeks online
Stark State College March 10 ? ?
Northeast Ohio Medical University March 10 March 11 April 3
Colorado College March 10 March 11 April 27
Mount Holyoke College March 10 March 11 Indefinitely Vacate dorms
University of Cincinnati March 10 March 16 April 13
Duke University March 10 March 23 Indefinitely
University of California, Los Angeles March 10 March 11 End of quarter Extended
Tufts University March 10 March 11 Indefinitely Vacate dorms
University of California, Irvine March 10 March 16 Indefinitely
Molloy College March 10 March 10 March 28
Johns Hopkins University March 10 March 11 April 12
San Diego State University March 10 April 6 Indefinitely
University of Maryland March 10 March 23 April 10
West Virginia University March 10 March 16 Indefinitely Spring break extended
Xavier University, Ohio March 10 March 10 April 14
Yale University March 10 March 16 April 15 Spring break currently
Ramapo College March 10 March 16 April 5 Spring break extended
Southern Connecticut State University March 10 March 10 April 5
George Washington University March 10 March 23 April 5
Bowie State University March 10 March 12 April 5
Morgan University March 10 March 16 April 5
Denison University March 10 March 23 April 3
Stockton University March 10 March 23 April 5 Spring break extended through March 25
Western Washington University March 10 March 11 March 20
Bucknell University March 10 March 11 Indefinitely Vacate dorms
Michigan State University March 11 March 11 April 20
Washington University in St. Louis March 11 March 11 April 30 Vacate dorms
Boston University March 11 March 16 April 13
University of Iowa March 11 March 23 April 3
University of Colorado, Boulder March 11 March 13 End of semester
Bryn Mawr College March 11 March 11 April 3 May be extended
Haverford College March 11 March 11 April 3 May be extended
Central Michigan University March 11 March 16 March 22 Spring break currently, online begins next week. May be extended
University of Massachusetts Lowell March 11 March 11 April 3
University of Massachusetts Amherst March 11 March 11 April 3
University of Virginia March 11 March 19 April 3
Pepperdine University March 11 March 16 End of semester
University of Notre Dame March 11 March 16 April 3 No class week of March 16, online begins March 23
Northeastern University March 11 March 12 Indefinitely
Michigan Tech University March 11 March 16 Indefinitely
Gallaudet University March 11 March 23 End of semester
California State University, Long Beach March 11 March 12 April 20 No class March 12-17, online begins March 18
University of Wisconsin-Madison March 11 March 23 April 10 Spring break currently
State University of New York (ALL CAMPUSES) March 11 March 19 End of semester
City University of New York (ALL CAMPUSES) March 11 March 19 End of semester
University of Wisconsin, La Crosse March 11 March 12 April 10 Cancelled through March 27
University of Minnesota (ALL CAMPUSES) March 11 March 19 April 1 Campuses on spring break extended, those still with classes continue until March 18
University of the Cumberlands March 11 March 16 March 27
Millersville University March 11 March 31 Indefinitely Spring break extended through March 27
University of Louisville March 11 March 18 April 5
Washington State University March 11 March 23 Indefinitely
University of Michigan March 11 March 16 April 21 Class cancelled through 15th
Baylor University March 11 March 23 April 3
Virginia Tech March 11 March 23 End of semester
University of Rhode Island March 11 March 16 April 3
Wheaton College March 11 March 23 End of semester
Carnegie Mellon University March 11 March 17 Indefinitely
University of Pittsburgh March 11 March 23 End of semester Vacate dorms.
Emory University March 11 March 23 End of semester Vacate dorms.
University of Pennsylvania March 11 March 16 End of semester Vacate dorms.
Roanoke College March 11 March 12 April 3 Vacate dorms.
University of Oregon March 11 March 15 April 21
University of Illinois (ALL CAMPUSES) March 11 March 11 March 23
Grand Valley State University March 11 March 11 March 29
Northern Michigan University March 11 March 11 April 3
Western Michigan University March 11 March 11 April 3
Saginaw Valley State University March 11 March 11 April 17
Boston College March 11 March 11 Indefinitely Vacate dorms.
Brandeis University March 11 March 20 Indefinitely Vacate dorms.
Tulane University March 11 March 12 Indefinitely Vacate dorms.
George Mason University March 11 March 23 April 3
University of Missouri - Columbia March 11 March 11 March 30
University of Tennessee (ALL CAMPUSES) March 11 March 23 April 3
Ball State University March 11 March 11 End of semester
Texas Christian University March 11 March 16 April 3 Spring break extended
University of Texas-Austin March 11 March 16 March 29 Spring break extended
Oregon State University March 11 March 16 End of spring term
Orange Coast College March 11 March 16 Indefinitely
University of Houston March 11 March 16 Indefinitely Class cancelled through March 20. Online beyond.
University of Connecticut (ALL CAMPUSES) March 11 March 23 April 6
Harvey Mudd College March 11 March 11 Indefinitely Those who leave for spring break cannot return
State University System of Florida (ALL CAMPUSES) March 11 March 16 March 30 (FGC, FIU, FPU, and UF), April 6 (remaining)
Shepherd University March 11 March 13 March 29 Spring break extended.
California State Polytechnic University, Pomona March 11 March 13 April 3
Temple University March 11 March 13 Indefinitely
University of Kansas March 11 March 16 March 28
Concordia University March 11 March 16 April 13
Pennsylvania State University March 11 March 16 April 3
Springfield College March 11 March 16 March 29 Spring break extended
Wesleyan University March 11 March 11 Indefinitely Vacate dorms
University of Chicago March 11 March 11 Indefinitely Vacate dorms
Truman State University March 11 March 16 March 20
University of Arizona March 11 March 18 April 6
Arizona State University March 11 March 16 March 29
California Institute of Technology (Caltech) March 11 March 12 March 30
University of North Carolina (ALL CAMPUSES) March 11 March 11 Indefinitely Some campuses extended spring break.
Rhode Island School of Design March 12 March 22 Indefinitely Vacate dorms
Brown University March 12 March 22 Indefinitely Vacate dorms
University of Georgia system (ALL CAMPUSES) March 12 March 16 March 29
Minnesota State Colleges and Universities system (ALL CAMPUSES) March 12 March 16 March 29
Vermont university system (ALL CAMPUSES) March 12 March 15 April 3
Dartmouth College March 12 March 16 May 1 Those out of campus at the moment cannot return.
University of Alabama March 12 March 13 April 6 Spring break extended, online begins March 30
Arkansas State University March 12 March 13 April 10
Eckerd College March 12 March 30 Indefinitely Vacate dorms. Class cancelled through 29th.
Henderson State University March 12 March 13 April 13
Lawrence University of Appleton March 12 March 29 Indefinitely Spring break extended through 29th.
California State University, Fresno March 12 March 20 April 27
Southwestern Oklahoma State University March 12 March 23 April 3 Spring break extended.
Canisius College March 12 March 23 April 6 Vacate dorms
Brighham Young University March 12 March 18 Indefinitely
Simmons University March 13 March 23 Indefinitely Vacate dorms
Macomb Community College (ALL CAMPUSES) March 12 March 23 Indefinitely Class cancelled through 22nd
Oakland County Community College (ALL CAMPUSES) March 12 March 23 Indefinitely Class cancelled through 22nd
Washtenaw Community College March 12 March 16 April 6 Class cancelled through April 5
University of Nevada Las Vegas (UNLV) March 13 March 27 Indefinitely
Coastal Alabama Community College March 13 March 23 April 3
Humboldt State University March 13 March 26 April 17
Cabrillo Community College March 13 March 16 March 29
Western Washington University March 13 April 6 April 24
University of San Francisco March 13 March 18 End of semester
University of Utah March 16 March 18 End of semester
submitted by Winstonp00 to college [link] [comments]


2020.01.14 10:20 subreddit_stats Subreddit Stats: wikipedia posts from 2019-11-01 to 2020-01-13 07:06 PDT

Period: 72.40 days
Submissions Comments
Total 917 5432
Rate (per day) 12.67 74.08
Unique Redditors 365 2607
Combined Score 86807 50799

Top Submitters' Top Submissions

  1. 21590 points, 35 submissions: Tokyono
    1. When Alexander the Great’s dearest friend Hephaestion died, Alexander threw him a lavish funeral worth around £1,500,000,000. He also had a 60-metre-high pyre commissioned, with 7 layers of golden objects. Hephaestion was also worshipped as a divine hero. Shrines were erected in his memory. (1601 points, 128 comments)
    2. Miki Endo, a Japanese emergency worker who gave her life during the 2011 Tohoku earthquake and tsunami, by continuing to broadcast warnings and alerts over the community loudspeaker as the tsunami overwhelmed the town of Minamisanriku. She was credited with saving many lives. (1540 points, 12 comments)
    3. During the 2004 Indian Ocean earthquake, a 10-year-old girl named Tilly Smith helped save lives by recognising the signs of an oncoming tsunami at a beach. 2 weeks earlier, she had learned about them in a geography lesson. The beach was one of few on Phuket with no reported casualties (1400 points, 34 comments)
    4. In 1890, two lawyers wrote an article titled “The Right to Privacy". It is regarded as the first publication in the USA that advocated a right to privacy. It describes the right as the "right to be let alone".) (1127 points, 50 comments)
    5. Karl P. Schmidt, a herpetologist who documented his own death after he was bitten by a juvenile boomslang snake. He made detailed notes on the symptoms he experienced, almost right up to the end. He died 24 hours after the bite, bleeding in his lungs, kidneys, heart, and brain. (1100 points, 21 comments)
    6. The Inca Road system was at least 40,000 kilometres (25,000 mi) long. The roads were carefully planned and maintained. They were paved where necessary, had stairways, bridges and constructions such as retaining walls and a drainage system. Only 25% of the system remains visible today. (1100 points, 43 comments)
    7. When the HMS Guardian was struck by an iceberg in 1789, its captain decided to remain on board with 62 people. 259 left in boats. However, the captain was able to save the ship and sail back to land. It took 9 weeks, but everyone on the ship made it. Of the 259 that had left, only 15 survived.) (1095 points, 21 comments)
    8. The Hays code had a rule only allowing kissing to go on for 3 seconds in movies. Alfred Hitchcock got around this rule for his 1946 film, Notorious, by two actors break off every three seconds. The whole sequence lasts two and a half minutes. (1042 points, 20 comments)
    9. In 1687, the Parthenon in Athens exploded when it was hit by a Venetian mortar round. The building was being used by the Ottoman Turks to store gunpowder, and the round blew it up. One account says the Turks did not expect the Venetians to target such a historic monument. 300 people died. (992 points, 28 comments)
    10. Pedro Rodrigues Filho, a Brazilian serial killer who killed other criminals. He even killed his father, as payback for him having murdered his mother. After 34 years in jail, he was released. He was imprisoned again, but is now a youtuber who advises young people away from crime. (967 points, 37 comments)
  2. 5265 points, 13 submissions: blue_strat
    1. Christian socialism based on the teachings of Jesus of Nazareth identifies the cause of inequality now to be greed associated with capitalism. The 4th-Century bishop Basil of Caesarea wrote a sermon called The Rich Fool in which he asked, "Who is the covetous man? One for whom plenty is not enough." (1215 points, 321 comments)
    2. The Gospel of Wealth is an 1889 article by the industrialist Andrew Carnegie which urges philanthropy by the new upper class of self-made rich. He argues against wasteful extravagance or self-indulgence, encourages reducing inequality between the rich and poor, and praises high inheritance taxes. (1157 points, 64 comments)
    3. Israel Shahak (1933–2001) was an Israeli professor of organic chemistry, Holocaust survivor, and civil rights activist. His public support for a secular state, criticism of Jewish fundamentalism and reporting on the persecution of non-Jewish people by the Israeli government earned him death threats. (1017 points, 11 comments)
    4. "Three men make a tiger" (Chinese: 三人成虎; pinyin: sān rén chéng hǔ) is a Chinese proverb or chengyu (four-character idiom). It refers to an individual's tendency to accept absurd information as long as it is repeated by enough people. (785 points, 21 comments)
    5. Wellington R. Burt (1831–1919) was a lumber baron and politician from Saginaw, Michigan. His will specified to wait 21 years after his children and grandchildren were dead, beyond small annuities he also paid to staff. After the 1989 death of his last grandchild, 12 descendants shared $100 million. (571 points, 30 comments)
    6. The Reichskonkordat is a treaty negotiated between the Vatican and the emergent Nazi Germany, signed on 20 July 1933. It's been described by some as a Roman Catholic attempt to give moral legitimacy to the Nazi regime, though Nazi breaches of the agreement began almost as soon as it had been signed. (312 points, 42 comments)
    7. Robert Skidelsky (b. 1939) is a British economic historian and author of a three-part biography of J.M. Keynes. First a Labour Party member, he co-founded the Social Democratic Party, sat in the House of Lords as a Conservative then a cross-bencher, and endorsed Jeremy Corbyn for leader of Labour. (97 points, 2 comments)
    8. The Hanseatic League was a confederation of merchant guilds and market towns in northwestern and central Europe. From a few north German towns in the late 1100s to dominating Baltic maritime trade for 300 years, its trading routes stretched from England to Russia; the busiest from London to Hamburg. (35 points, 3 comments)
    9. Sit-in street protests called the Umbrella Revolution (雨傘革命) occurred in Hong Kong from September to December 2014, in reaction to a decision which allowed the Chinese Communist Party to pre-screen candidates for the Chief Executive of Hong Kong. Genuine universal suffrage had been promised in law. (26 points, 0 comments)
    10. List of the oldest known surviving free-standing buildings, before and including the Colosseum of Rome in 70–80 CE. The oldest three are in France and date from 4850–4500 BCE. (19 points, 1 comment)
  3. 3631 points, 18 submissions: Rollakud
    1. René Descartes was a French philosopher, mathematician, and scientist. One of the most notable intellectual figures of the Dutch Golden Age, Descartes is also widely regarded as one of the founders of modern philosophy. (727 points, 54 comments)
    2. Byron Looper was a Republican politician. In order to advance his political career, he legally changed his middle name from "Anthony" to "Low Tax". After being convicted for the October 1998 murder of his election opponent, incumbent Senator Tommy Burks, he was given a life sentence in prison. (672 points, 16 comments)
    3. Ros Serey Sothea was a Cambodian singer. She sang in a variety of genres; romantic ballads emerged as her most popular works. She disappeared during the Khmer Rouge regime of the late 1970s but the circumstances of her fate remain a mystery. (601 points, 27 comments)
    4. Jodi Huisentruit was a television news anchor for KIMT, based in Mason City, Iowa, in the United States. She went missing in the early morning hours of June 27, 1995, soon after telling a colleague that she was on her way to work. (518 points, 21 comments)
    5. Edward Low was a notorious English pirate during the latter days of the Golden Age of Piracy, in the early 18th century. The New York Times called him a torturer, whose methods would have "done credit to the ingenuity of the Spanish Inquisition in its darkest days". (487 points, 6 comments)
    6. Location hypotheses of Atlantis are various proposed real-world settings for the fictional island of Atlantis, described as a lost civilization mentioned in Plato's dialogues Timaeus and Critias, written about 360 B.C. (400 points, 27 comments)
    7. Luke Short was an American Old West gunfighter, cowboy, U.S. Army scout, dispatch rider, gambler, boxing promoter and saloon owner. He survived numerous gunfights, the most famous of which were against Charlie Storms in Tombstone, Arizona Territory and against Jim Courtright in Fort Worth, Texas. (67 points, 1 comment)
    8. Daisy and Violet Hilton were English entertainers, who were conjoined twins. They were exhibited in Europe as children, and toured the United States sideshow, vaudeville and American burlesque circuits in the 1920s and 1930s. (63 points, 4 comments)
    9. John Singer Sargent was an American expatriate artist, considered the "leading portrait painter of his generation" for his evocations of Edwardian-era luxury. He created roughly 900 oil paintings and more than 2,000 watercolors, as well as countless sketches and charcoal drawings. (16 points, 1 comment)
    10. Sharon Rina Lopatka was an Internet entrepreneur in Hampstead, Maryland, United States, who was killed in a case of apparent consensual homicide. (15 points, 1 comment)
  4. 2664 points, 8 submissions: nsfwdreamer
    1. The Burj Khalifa cost only $US 1.5 billion because workers were only paid around 5 pounds per day. (1185 points, 75 comments)
    2. "In 2002, Bembenek either fell or jumped from a second-story window, breaking her leg so badly that it had to be amputated below the knee.[38] Bembenek claimed that she had been confined in an apartment by handlers for the Dr. Phil television show and was injured while attempting to escape." (498 points, 6 comments)
    3. "Heidnik was one of six real-life murderers upon whom author Thomas Harris based Jame "Buffalo Bill" Gumb, the villain of his 1988 novel The Silence of the Lambs.[26][27]" (334 points, 15 comments)
    4. "After the original natural grass playing surface died, the Astrodome became the first major sports venue to install artificial turf, which became known as AstroTurf." (246 points, 2 comments)
    5. ""Come Together" started as Lennon's attempt to write a song for Timothy Leary's campaign for governor of California against Ronald Reagan, which promptly ended when Leary was sent to prison for possession of marijuana:[5]" (213 points, 6 comments)
    6. "Originally titled "Brown-Skinned Girl",[11] Morrison changed it to "Brown Eyed Girl" when he recorded it. Morrison remarked on the title change: "That was just a mistake. It was a kind of Jamaican song. Calypso. It just slipped my mind [that] I changed the title."[12]" (98 points, 5 comments)
    7. "Franklin, according to his later account, used a Ruger .44 caliber semi-automatic rifle[16] to ambush Hustler publisher Larry Flynt in Lawrenceville, Georgia. In his confession, Franklin said this was in retaliation for an edition of Hustler displaying interracial sex.[7]" (63 points, 0 comments)
    8. "OneCoin is a Ponzi scheme[1][2] promoted as a cryptocoin with a private blockchain, by offshore companies OneCoin Ltd (Dubai) and OneLife Network Ltd (Belize), both founded by Ruja Ignatova in concert with Sebastian Greenwood.[3]" (27 points, 1 comment)
  5. 2386 points, 21 submissions: slinkslowdown
    1. Metamathematics is the study of mathematics itself using mathematical methods. This study produces metatheories, which are mathematical theories about other mathematical theories. (712 points, 47 comments)
    2. On December 6, 1989, Marc Lépine entered a mechanical engineering class at the École Polytechnique. He stated that he was "fighting feminism" and shot the women. Lépine then moved through corridors, the cafeteria, and another classroom, targeting women for 20 minutes before killing himself. (603 points, 77 comments)
    3. Aphantasia is a condition where one does not possess a functioning mind's eye and cannot voluntarily visualize imagery. (518 points, 84 comments)
    4. Cats and the Internet: Images and videos of domestic cats make up some of the most viewed content on the web, particularly image macros in the form of lolcats. ThoughtCatalog has described cats as the "unofficial mascot of the Internet". (214 points, 4 comments)
    5. List of last words: ""Ow, fuck!" Roald Dahl "I have not told half of what I saw." Maco Polo "I am mortally wounded … I think." Stephen Decatur (132 points, 6 comments)
    6. Voyager 1 is expected to reach the theorized Oort cloud in about 300 years. In about 40,000 years, it will pass within 1.6 light-years of the star Gliese 445, which is at present in the constellation Camelopardalis. (41 points, 3 comments)
    7. The 1927 Liberian general election: The elections were referred to as "the most rigged ever". Despite there being fewer than 15,000 registered voters, one candidate received around 243,000 votes. (37 points, 2 comments)
    8. Christine Chubbuck was an American television news reporter and the first person to commit suicide on a live television broadcast. A week before her suicide, she told Rob Smith, the night news editor, that she had bought a gun and joked about killing herself on air. (28 points, 2 comments)
    9. A cancer syndrome is a genetic disorder in which inherited genetic mutations predispose the affected individuals to the development of cancers and may also cause the early onset of these cancers. (21 points, 0 comments)
    10. The egg and wine diet is a fad diet that advocated the consumption of 3-5 eggs per day plus a 24-oz bottle of wine. (15 points, 4 comments)
  6. 2028 points, 20 submissions: Pupikal
    1. There have been several cases of exploding whales, both from gas buildup and actual explosives. Oregon used 20 cases of dynamite to dispose of a whale, showering a great area with blubber. In Taiwan, a carcass being transported spontaneously combusted, spraying whale across storefronts and people. (735 points, 17 comments)
    2. Bazooka (instrument): The bazooka is a brass musical instrument several feet in length which incorporates telescopic tubing like the trombone. It is an extension of the word "bazoo," slang for "mouth" or "boastful talk." The anti-tank weapon got its name from its resemblance to the instrument. (506 points, 14 comments)
    3. The Public Universal Friend was an American preacher born in Cumberland, Rhode Island. The Friend suffered a severe illness in 1776 and reported having died and been reanimated as a genderless evangelist named the Public Universal Friend, and afterward shunned both birth name and gendered pronouns. (413 points, 20 comments)
    4. Ytterby, Sweden: Ytterby is perhaps most famous for being the single richest source of elemental discoveries in the world; the chemical elements yttrium (Y), ytterbium (Yb), erbium (Er) and terbium (Tb) are all named after Ytterby. (142 points, 8 comments)
    5. Stephen Hopkins, Governor of Rhode Island and a founding father of the United States: He signed the Declaration of Independence in the summer of 1776 with worsening palsy in his hands. He signed it by holding his right hand with his left and saying, "My hand trembles, but my heart does not." (68 points, 0 comments)
    6. The origin of the Basques is a controversial topic that has given rise to numerous hypotheses. Modern Basque, is the only Pre-Indo-European language that is extant in western Europe. The Basques have therefore long been supposed to be a remnant of a pre-Indo-European population of Europe. (28 points, 0 comments)
    7. A distributary, or a distributary channel, is a stream that branches off and flows away from a main stream channel. Distributaries are a common feature of river deltas. The phenomenon is known as river bifurcation. The opposite of a distributary is a tributary. (27 points, 0 comments)
    8. Hessian (soldier): Although characterized in America as mercenaries during the American Revolution, Hessians were distinguished by jurists at the time as auxiliaries serving their prince sent to the aid of another prince, while mercenaries served a foreign prince as individuals.) (24 points, 0 comments)
    9. War Is a Racket is a speech & 1935 short book, by Smedley D. Butler, a retired United States Marine Corps Major General and two-time Medal of Honor recipient. Based on his career military experience, Butler discusses how business interests commercially benefit, such as war profiteering from warfare. (19 points, 1 comment)
    10. Operation London Bridge: Codename for the plan for what will happen in the days after the death of Queen Elizabeth II. The plan was originally devised in the 1960s and is updated several times each year. (9 points, 0 comments)
  7. 1981 points, 9 submissions: bdog556
    1. Armin T. Wegner was a German human rights activist who documented the Armenian Genocide through photographs and publicly voiced his opposition to the anti-Semitic policies of the Nazis. (741 points, 3 comments)
    2. "Ratlines" were a system of escape routes for Nazis and other fascists fleeing Europe in the aftermath of World War II.) (649 points, 36 comments)
    3. Erich Mielke- German who killed two Berlin police officers, fled to the Soviet Union, joined the NKVD, participated in the Great Purge, then retured to Soviet occupied Germany, serving as the head of the Stasi secret police for 32 years. (536 points, 9 comments)
    4. Estimates of the number of dead due to Japanese war crimes during World War II range from 3-24 million (13 points, 0 comments)
    5. During the famine, about one million people died and a million more emigrated from Ireland, causing the island's population to fall by between 20% and 25%.?wprov=sfti1) (12 points, 10 comments)
    6. Franklin Roosevelt’s Second Bill of Rights (10 points, 0 comments)
    7. Excessive mortality in the Soviet Union under Joseph Stalin (8 points, 0 comments)
    8. Babi Yar is a ravine in the Ukrainian city of Kiev. It was the sight of a German led massacre in 1941 that killed over 33,000 Jews in 2 days. (7 points, 1 comment)
    9. P. G. T. Beauregard- Confederate general, railroad executive, and advocate for black civil rights (5 points, 0 comments)
  8. 1936 points, 8 submissions: Boardallday
    1. The Moscow theater hostage crisis, where 40 to 50 Chechens armed with guns and large explosives seized a crowded theater, taking 850 hostages. It ended when the Russians pumped a strong fentanyl derivative into the room, causing the deaths of 170 people. (754 points, 33 comments)
    2. Louis Slotin was a Manhattan Project scientist. He took dangerous risks like diving into the operating Clinton Pile to repair a sensor. His colleague was killed doing a risky experiment on a bomb core. A year later, Slotin was killed doing the same type of experiment, when his screwdriver slipped. (688 points, 41 comments)
    3. The ARGUS-IS is a persistent surveillance system that tracks every moving object within a 15 sq mile area using drones and blimps with a 1.8 Gigapixel video system. It allows investigators to rewind it and track movements. They hover for months undetected and produce 1.8 exabytes of HD video a day. (233 points, 29 comments)
    4. Crush, Texas, was a temporary "city" set up for a one day publicity event in 1896 where two steam locomotives were crashed into each other. 40,000 people attended. They exploded, the crowd panicked, and debris came down among the spectators, killing two and seriously injuring at least six others. (217 points, 11 comments)
    5. Choanocyte cells line the interior of sea sponges, they create the water flow through the sponge. Sponges were one of the first large multicellular organisms, and these cells closely resemble the single cell protist the Choanoflagellate, the closest related protists to the animal kingdom. (14 points, 1 comment)
    6. Nuclear and radiation accidents and incidents. Descriptions and links to articles of hundreds of serious accidents and incidents involving nuclear technology and radiation. (14 points, 1 comment)
    7. A whale fall is when the carcass of a cetacean falls to the deep ocean floor. They provide sustenance for decades and form complex mini ecosystems which harbor chemosynthetic animals and bacteria. (10 points, 1 comment)
    8. Art of the Upper Paleolithic (40,000 - 35,000 years ago) (6 points, 0 comments)
  9. 1834 points, 5 submissions: sdsanth
    1. Ken Warby who dreamed of breaking the world speed record since child hood, built his record-breaking boat, Spirit of Australia in his backyard with wood and jet engines bought for just $69 and Broke water speed record in 1978 by reaching 511.1 kmph.The record still stands. (696 points, 15 comments)
    2. The Dionne quintuplets are the first quintuplets known to survive the infancy.They were seperated from the parents and placed on display multiple times a day at Quintland.They became Ontario's biggest tourist attraction of the era, surpassing the Canadian side of Niagara Falls (539 points, 17 comments)
    3. Max Planck was advised by a professor not to go into physics, saying, "in this field, almost everything is already discovered" Planck replied that he didn't wish to discover new things, only to understand the fundamentals of Physics.Plank won the Nobel Prize in Physics for discovering energy quanta. (474 points, 6 comments)
    4. Hippopotamuses produce "sweat" made of two pigments. the "red pigment" contains an antibiotic, while "the orange" absorbs UV rays. So the two pigments work together to protect the African mammals from both bacterial infections and sun damage. It also explains the misconception that they sweat blood. (97 points, 3 comments)
    5. Wikipedia references now include book previews hosted by the Internet Archive (28 points, 0 comments)
  10. 1820 points, 27 submissions: casapulapula
    1. The overthrow of the Hawaiian Kingdom began on January 17, 1893, with a coup d'état against Queen Liliʻuokalani. The revolutionaries established the Republic of Hawaii, but their ultimate goal was the annexation of the islands to the United States, which occurred in 1898. (587 points, 52 comments)
    2. The gympie gympie of Australia is the most toxic of the Australian species of stinging trees. The sting is famously agonizing and can last for months or years. (583 points, 43 comments)
    3. The El Mozote Massacre took place in and around the village of El Mozote, in Morazán department, El Salvador, on December 11, 1981 when the US-backed Salvadoran Army killed more than 800 civilians (319 points, 15 comments)
    4. The bony-eared assfish holds the record for the smallest brain-to-body weight ratio of all vertebrates. (62 points, 11 comments)
    5. An animal glue is an adhesive that is created by prolonged boiling of animal connective tissue. Stereotypically, the animal in question is a horse, and horses that are put down are often said to have been "sent to the glue factory". However, other animals are also used, including rabbits and fish. (52 points, 6 comments)
    6. German East Africa included present-day Burundi, Rwanda, and the mainland part of Tanzania. The colony was organised when the German military in the 1880s put down a revolt against the activities of the German East Africa Company. It ended with Imperial Germany's defeat in World War I. (27 points, 0 comments)
    7. The Blue Ridge Mountains are noted for having a bluish color when seen from a distance. Trees put the "blue" in Blue Ridge, from the isoprene released into the atmosphere, thereby contributing to the characteristic haze on the mountains and their distinctive color. (27 points, 2 comments)
    8. Involvement of the United States in regime change in Latin America most commonly involved US backed Coup 'd' etats aimed at replacing left-wing leaders with right-wing, usually military and authoritarian regimes. (24 points, 0 comments)
    9. Secretary of Defense Mark Esper was vice president of government relations at Raytheon, a major U.S. defense contractor. During his time at Raytheon, Esper was recognized as a top corporate lobbyist by The Hill in 2015 and 2016. (18 points, 1 comment)
    10. The Great Pacific garbage patch is a gyre of marine debris particles in the north central Pacific Ocean. Despite the common public perception of the patch existing as giant islands of floating rubbish, its low density prevents detection by satellite imagery, or even by casual boaters or divers. (18 points, 0 comments)

Top Commenters

  1. RubberDuckKeychains (627 points, 1 comment)
  2. Kayvanian (495 points, 14 comments)
  3. agent_bitchpudding (458 points, 2 comments)
  4. adescuentechable (422 points, 32 comments)
  5. cp5184 (388 points, 7 comments)
  6. TheyPinchBack (386 points, 19 comments)
  7. jonathanrdt (383 points, 12 comments)
  8. NoMobileArticlesBot (381 points, 55 comments)
  9. bttrflyr (345 points, 2 comments)
  10. 1regit (336 points, 3 comments)
  11. soniabegonia (320 points, 6 comments)
  12. elven_mage (297 points, 1 comment)
  13. sdsanth (296 points, 6 comments)
  14. shponglespore (283 points, 1 comment)
  15. i_eat_babies666 (282 points, 6 comments)
  16. softinseattle (282 points, 2 comments)
  17. De_Stekke (280 points, 2 comments)
  18. stergro (274 points, 5 comments)
  19. AlGeee (272 points, 33 comments)
  20. Papacoolie (267 points, 23 comments)
  21. Slapbox (256 points, 11 comments)
  22. RobertAPetersen (256 points, 10 comments)
  23. InksPenandPaper (246 points, 4 comments)
  24. DirtyDanTheManlyMan (244 points, 2 comments)
  25. mjc500 (238 points, 1 comment)
  26. Boardallday (231 points, 12 comments)
  27. BillabobGO (230 points, 15 comments)
  28. BussySundae (228 points, 12 comments)
  29. verynormal400 (218 points, 3 comments)
  30. FartingBob (216 points, 11 comments)
  31. SlipSlamMammaJamma (216 points, 6 comments)
  32. widgettwidget (205 points, 4 comments)
  33. rohitbarar (205 points, 2 comments)
  34. BFreeFranklin (204 points, 2 comments)
  35. MaceotheDark (198 points, 2 comments)
  36. cooper12 (193 points, 42 comments)
  37. molluskus (193 points, 5 comments)
  38. shimieme (193 points, 1 comment)
  39. stuttgart_flugart (190 points, 16 comments)
  40. Llamaa3 (190 points, 4 comments)
  41. DSMalhotra (183 points, 1 comment)
  42. Titanosaurus (182 points, 4 comments)
  43. Direwolf202 (178 points, 7 comments)
  44. Firebrand777 (178 points, 2 comments)
  45. LSU_Tiger (177 points, 1 comment)
  46. against-cops (175 points, 20 comments)
  47. Dr_Winston_O_Boogie (174 points, 1 comment)
  48. thedailyrant (169 points, 20 comments)
  49. jayman419 (168 points, 3 comments)
  50. PrincessWinterX (163 points, 2 comments)

Top Submissions

  1. When Alexander the Great’s dearest friend Hephaestion died, Alexander threw him a lavish funeral worth around £1,500,000,000. He also had a 60-metre-high pyre commissioned, with 7 layers of golden objects. Hephaestion was also worshipped as a divine hero. Shrines were erected in his memory. by Tokyono (1601 points, 128 comments)
  2. Miki Endo, a Japanese emergency worker who gave her life during the 2011 Tohoku earthquake and tsunami, by continuing to broadcast warnings and alerts over the community loudspeaker as the tsunami overwhelmed the town of Minamisanriku. She was credited with saving many lives. by Tokyono (1540 points, 12 comments)
  3. During the 2004 Indian Ocean earthquake, a 10-year-old girl named Tilly Smith helped save lives by recognising the signs of an oncoming tsunami at a beach. 2 weeks earlier, she had learned about them in a geography lesson. The beach was one of few on Phuket with no reported casualties by Tokyono (1400 points, 34 comments)
  4. Christian socialism based on the teachings of Jesus of Nazareth identifies the cause of inequality now to be greed associated with capitalism. The 4th-Century bishop Basil of Caesarea wrote a sermon called The Rich Fool in which he asked, "Who is the covetous man? One for whom plenty is not enough." by blue_strat (1215 points, 321 comments)
  5. Impeachment of Donald Trump by thestickystickman (1212 points, 155 comments)
  6. The Burj Khalifa cost only $US 1.5 billion because workers were only paid around 5 pounds per day. by nsfwdreamer (1185 points, 75 comments)
  7. The Gospel of Wealth is an 1889 article by the industrialist Andrew Carnegie which urges philanthropy by the new upper class of self-made rich. He argues against wasteful extravagance or self-indulgence, encourages reducing inequality between the rich and poor, and praises high inheritance taxes. by blue_strat (1157 points, 64 comments)
  8. In 1890, two lawyers wrote an article titled “The Right to Privacy". It is regarded as the first publication in the USA that advocated a right to privacy. It describes the right as the "right to be let alone".) by Tokyono (1127 points, 50 comments)
  9. The Inca Road system was at least 40,000 kilometres (25,000 mi) long. The roads were carefully planned and maintained. They were paved where necessary, had stairways, bridges and constructions such as retaining walls and a drainage system. Only 25% of the system remains visible today. by Tokyono (1100 points, 43 comments)
  10. Karl P. Schmidt, a herpetologist who documented his own death after he was bitten by a juvenile boomslang snake. He made detailed notes on the symptoms he experienced, almost right up to the end. He died 24 hours after the bite, bleeding in his lungs, kidneys, heart, and brain. by Tokyono (1100 points, 21 comments)

Top Comments

  1. 627 points: RubberDuckKeychains's comment in The Burj Khalifa cost only $US 1.5 billion because workers were only paid around 5 pounds per day.
  2. 455 points: agent_bitchpudding's comment in When Alexander the Great’s dearest friend Hephaestion died, Alexander threw him a lavish funeral worth around £1,500,000,000. He also had a 60-metre-high pyre commissioned, with 7 layers of golden objects. Hephaestion was also worshipped as a divine hero. Shrines were erected in his memory.
  3. 387 points: cp5184's comment in I thought That the last wikipedia donation “event” (not sure what else to call it) was so successful That Wikipedia could last off the donations for 10+ years? Why are they asking again?
  4. 343 points: bttrflyr's comment in This Iranian man planned on flying to the UK to live with one of his parents. His luggage containing his citizenship paperwork was lost en route, and thus was not allowed to board his connecting flight. He spent 1988 to 2006 living in terminal 1 of Charles de Gaulle airport in France.
  5. 297 points: elven_mage's comment in CTVT, a a transmissible dog cancer tumor from a dog that died 6,000 years, but the tumor is still around today, making the original dog virtually immortal
  6. 294 points: Kayvanian's comment in I thought That the last wikipedia donation “event” (not sure what else to call it) was so successful That Wikipedia could last off the donations for 10+ years? Why are they asking again?
  7. 289 points: 1regit's comment in Wikipedia releases its image compilation of the most defining moments of the 2010s.
  8. 283 points: shponglespore's comment in I genuinely feel bad for literally not even having $2.75 to my name to donate at the moment...
  9. 269 points: De_Stekke's comment in I genuinely feel bad for literally not even having $2.75 to my name to donate at the moment...
  10. 260 points: softinseattle's comment in Female scientists' pages keep disappearing from Wikipedia- what's going on?
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2019.08.01 08:25 TheMailmansBooty Potential cryptids that could be (and hopefully be) added into the game

So one of the many staples of Fallout 76 is of the various Cryptids that inhabit Appalachia; from the shining red eyes of the Moth Man to the eerie purple glow of the Flatwoods Monster, these creatures are always a hoot n' a half to hunt down and take pictures with (and killing them of course.) But what if I were to tell you that there are more Cryptids that Bethesda can utilize in the game? Well I'm here to present you the rest of the real world fabled cryptid that haunt West Virigina (and some additional Cryptids from neighboring states), their real world desc. and story and how they can be added into Fallout 76.
I'd also like to comment that most of my research is coming from The Cryptid Wiki (https://cryptidz.fandom.com/wiki/Cryptid_Wiki)
West Virginia
Appalachian Chupacabra: First sighted in the 1900s, and supposedly migrated to Appalachia from Puerto Rico In the 1800s. Most of the sightings occurred in West Virginia. Hunters, hikers, trappers, and other outdoorsmen reported seeing deer carcasses laying on the ground, with blood precisely drawn from their bodies, leaving fang marks on the necks. Others have seen it face-to-face, saying that there is not just one - but a pack. In the Fallout universe, these can be a form of mutated dog thanks to the radiation that's caused it to lose it's fur and grow larger fangs.
Beast of Bears: The creature resembles a large bear with many scars and missing patches of fur. It is commonly seen near swamps as well as various areas in deep woods. The creature is described as having a strong pungent smell of alcohol and rotten eggs. Due to it's location near the swamps, it is believed to also have gills. The first sighting of the Beast of Bears was October 12, 1973, at a camping spot near the town of Alice, Texas. Since then, over 31 sightings have been made of the creature, the most recent of which was on the 1st of May, 2012 in a back yard out side of Crestview, Florida. In the Fallout universe, this could be a Yao Guai that's received a certain mutation strain that has made it grow larger and even more deadly than it's predecessor.
Vegetable Man: said to be very tall, arguably over 7 feet, thin with a semi-human shape. It also appeared to be partially plant based, and possessed large ears with striking eyes that oscillated in colors.(Going from red to yellow rapidly.) Its arms were thin and gave the impression of reeds by a river bank. On the ends of its long fingers were suction cups which had thorns protruding from them. In 1968, in the woods around Fairmont WV, Jennings Frederick was out for a hunt. As he moved through the woods in search of game, Frederick heard an odd noise. It sounded like a record player running faster than it should, a sort of high-pitched jabbering. When he tracked down the source of the sound, he came face to face with the creature. In theFallout universe, this could be implemented as a long, spindly Wendigo or alien that has been infected by the Strangler virus, and has the ability of disorienting the player with rapid lights
Indrid Cold: Reported to be human-like in appearance, though is commonly associated with UFO activity and is sometimes believed to be an alien. It is also believed possible that he is connected with the Men In Black. In his first sighting, he was described as being over six feet tall and wearing a reflective, green suit with a black belt. He had a dark complexion and small, beady eyes set far apart. That could fly with his wings. He was described as not having any nose, ears, or hair. In his second known encounter, his suit was said to be blue instead of green, but still retained its reflective property. Along with that he was described as looking perfectly natural with slicked back hair, a coat with the top two buttons unbuttoned, and having pants lighter than the coat but still the same material. He was also described as being quite tan, though not dark, and looking like any normal human being. According to reports made by Woodrow Derenberger, Indrid Cold came from a planet named Lanulos in the Genemedes galaxy, and that there were two other "grinning men" by the names of Demo Hassan and Karl Ardo. With Wastelanders coming in the future, the way I can see it implemented is by being some form of NPC Psyker with a deformed face, and pops in during random encounters.
Bush Man: A Neanderthal/Erectus type of human. They aren't as hairy as Bigfoot, but smarter, shorter and denser. They live in cold mountainous regions down to South Carolina. Often hiding away from any sort of civilization. They're hard to spot because they can make deer-skin clothing and add all types of natural plants hence the name bushman. Native Americans say they can be more peaceful, or stealthy on the flatter, coastal zones, but more aggressive in mountainous and arctic zones. Early explorers are often scared of these beings, claiming they know pottery, and tool making, and simple things, yet they look way different. In the Fallout universe, I can see these Bush Men as either humans who've only been half affected by FEV and are semi Super Mutant, or simply a tribe of humans/super mutants named "The Bush Men"
Men In Black: strangers dressed in black suits who threaten UFO witnesses into silence. They also harass witnesses to other paranormal events to keep them quiet about what they have seen. The MIB usually travel in a group of three and drive black cars. They show strange or otherworldly behaviors, such as trying to drink jello or not knowing what a ball point pen is, and they seem to have advanced technology. One woman even claimed that The Men In Black took part of her memory. The MIB were seen after Mothman sightings and Dover Demon sightings. They told witnesses of both these creatures not to talk about their experiences. There are also Women In Black or Female MIBs but they are rarely seen. In 1947, Harold Dahl claimed to have been warned not to talk about his alleged UFO sighting on Maury Island by a man in a dark suit. When the Skunk Ape phenomenon was popular, a group investigating him had a hair sample stolen from them by two men in sunglasses and dark suits driving a black Sedan. In the Fallout universe, The MIB could be a branch of the US Government (Enclave) that still do their job and silence anyone who sees odd occurrences and creatures. Maybe they can be added in Wastelanders as a daily quest or event where you join the MIB division and must kill a high level cryptid.
West Virginian Yahoo: West Virginia's most infamous Bigfoot. As its name implies, the Yahoo makes a terrifyingly loud squall, which, you guessed it, is a loud, "yahoo". The Yahoo is reported to be around 8 feet tall with jet-black fur and makes a loud scream. Some people say there is more than one Yahoo roaming the Appalachian area. In the Fallout Universe, the Yahoo can possibly be a result of FEV experimentation, possibly a super mutant with bear or gorilla dna spliced in.
Virginia
Wood Booger: A type of Bigfoot or Hairy Humanoid that lives in the mid Appalachian Mountains. The name "Wood Booger" was given to the creature because it was often rumored to carry off young children like the boogey man. Not to much information on what the Wood Booger looks like, but looks similar to other hairy cryptids. Similar to the Yahoo, it can be the result of the FEV experimentation.
Maryland
Goatman: A humanoid cryptid most commonly associated with Louisiana, Maryland and Texas. It is described as a seven foot tall hybrid creature; part man and part goat. Some claim it is a relative of the New Orleans evil chupacabra-like cryptid the Grunch. The urban legends of them often tells of it killing young couples in parked cars or scouring neighbourhoods killing family pets. Honestly, I'm not sure if there's even a way for this one to be implimented into the Fallout universe unless we stretch it really far out there, but who knows.
Pennsylvania
Quetzalcoatlus: On September 25, 2001, a 19-year-old driving along Pennsylvania’s Route 119 reported what he described as “flags flapping in a thunderstorm” coming from above his car. When he looked up, he was astounded to see what looked like a bird with a 3–4.5 meter (10–15 ft) wingspan and a strange, elongated head flying above him. The reports were reminiscent of a string of sightings that took place in Texas in 1976 and 1982. In all cases, the creature described sounded remarkably similar to a Pterosaur. In the Fallout universe, this could be a mutated bird of some sort or a mutation of a bird and dinosaur dna thanks to FEV.
Pennsylvanian White Bigfoot: Mostly sighted along the Pacific Northwest, sightings occur across the continent, including some particularly bizarre cases in Pennsylvania that involve a white furred Bigfoot like creature usually sighted with UFOs. The Pennsylvanian White Bigfoot was first sighted in Blakeslee, Pennsylvania in 1970. According to eyewitness Annette B., the creature she saw in 1970 — which stood between 6 and 7-feet tall, with a broad chest, a long neck and a coat of dirtied white fur. Annette went on to describe its face: “Its eyes were dark and spaced far apart. Its [white] hair covered the lower half of its face. There was pinkish skin around the eyes and forehead. It looked like its hair was a little longer on its head and hanging over its forehead like bangs.” Some reports say that it could be an elderly version of the Sasquatch, so this could be a "Legendary Elder" prefix of one of the hairy cryptida in the Fallout universe.
Kentucky
Cumberland Dragon (Goosefoot): Described as a reptile like creature with only two legs, scales of black, brown, and a light yellow colour in spots like rings, a white tuft or crown on the top of its head, about four feet high, a head as big as a two pound stone, and large eyes of a fiery red, it was first sighted by Ensign McDonald and another unknown man in the Cumberland mountains. Mr. McDonald advanced, and struck at it with his sword, when it jumped at least eight feet, and lit on the same spot of ground, sending forth a red kind of matter out of its mouth, resembling blood, and then retreated into a laurel thicket, turning round often as if it intended to fight. The tracks of it resembled that of a goose, but larger. The Indians report that a creature inhabits that part of the mountain of the above description, which, by its breath, will kill a man, if he does not instantly immerse himself in water." In the Fallout universe, this could easily be a mutated lizard of some form that has an acidic spit attack and an ability to jump high in order to dodge attacks.
Hellhound: Now most of you may already know what a Hellhound is, but specifically in Kentucky, Hellhounds are described to have blackish-blue fur, a mane running halfway down its back, and large paws that look strikingly similar to a black bear's front paws. It does not seem to have much relation to religion, but rather called the "Kentucky Hellhound" likely because it wreaks havoc on livestock. In the Fallout universe, these can be (once again) mutated dogs that have gained these mutations to give it dark blue fur and glowing red eyes. Let's give it the ability to breath fire while we're at it?
Hopkinsville Goblins: also known as the Hopkinsville Goblins Case, and to a lesser extent the Kelly Green Men Case, is the name given to a series of connected incidents of alleged close encounters with supposed extraterrestrial beings. Described as around three feet tall, with upright pointed ears, thin limbs (their legs were said to be almost in a state of atrophy), long arms and claw-like hands or talons. The creatures were either silvery in color, or wearing something metallic. Their movements on occasion seemed to defy gravity with them floating above the ground and appearing in high up places, and they "walked" with a swaying motion as though wading through water. Forgive me for my unoriginality folks, but the best way I can think these could be implemented are either mutated squirrels or another form of Zetan alien.
Ohio
Grassman: a tall, bipedal hominid that stalks the woods of Ohio, hence the name Ohio Grassman. It is reportedly very similar to Bigfoot. It seems to be much more aggressive than any other Sasquatch species. The Grassman gets its name from the small, hut-like living structures, or nests, it builds out of tall grass. It is dexribed to have a snub nose, peaked or deep-set eyes, very chesty, blackish-brown in color, long arms, pointed and bulky head, no neck, monstrous wide shoulders, black, gray or brown hair, some say its hair is smooth but others say it is shaggy covering all of its body except the palms of its hands, has luminous red or orange eyes, some reports say it looks like gorilla but appears to stand straighter, other reports claim the creature looks more human than ape. Initially, the creature was reported to have no visible neck and its face was not discernible due to the veil of long hair. Once again, these could be implemented in the Fallout universe by means FEV experimentation with Super Mutant and ape DNA splicing.
Orange Eyes: A long time ago, Orange Eyes lived under a Cleveland cemetery. He lives near Mill Lake, also home to the Charles Mill Lake Monster. The first sighting dates back to March 28, 1959, attacking two teenagers at Lover's Lane. They claimed a large, hairy Bigfoot beast with glowing orange eyes, which rose from the misty morass. Lover's Lane, not surprisingly, runs past Charles Mill Lake. The creature is actually little known, but the Charles Mill Lake Monster is even more little known. Orange Eyes is a rarely seen beast. Similar to the Grassman, FEV splicing, making a Super Mutant-ape hybrid.
Charles Mill Lake Monster: In 1959, three young men from Ohio claimed to have had a face-to-face encounter with one of the most bizarre critters ever to emerge from a seaweed strewn lake bed… an encounter so brief and perplexing that even most cryptozoologists don’t know what to make of it. The youths men testified that they were cavorting near Ruggles road, near the swampy shores of the Charles Mill Reservoir at night when they saw a strange, 7-foot tall being rise up from the black water front of them. The petrified boys watched in horror as this colossal creature towered above them. Later they would describe the beast as being a huge, “armless” humanoid with luminous, green eyes and large, webbed feet. Needless to say the teens wasted no time in exiting the scene and were swift to report their unusual encounter. In the Fallout universe, I can imagine this being a unique Super Mutant Behemoth that's strewn in seaweed, though it would break the "armless" part of the cryptid's lore.
Here are some honorable cryptids
Wanderlights
Wampus Beast
Whirling Whimpus
Squonk
Dover Demon
Sasquatch
Kirkland Melonheads
submitted by TheMailmansBooty to fo76 [link] [comments]


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2019.04.11 12:51 OutlawsHeels 2019 NBA Draft Decisions Thread

NBA DRAFT 2019
WHO'S GONNA BREAK YOUR HEART THIS YEAR?
Okay, here's the deal. The NCAA has some new rules that make my job here a little more difficult, but that's alright. I'll try my best to be accurate, but leave a comment if I've missed anything or put someone in the wrong category.
As always, this thread is ongoing and most certainly not 100% accurate or complete. I try my best to find good sources, but let me know if you see something wrong.
DATES
All dates are taken from the NBA
April 21 -- NBA Early Entry Eligibility Deadline (11:59 p.m. ET)
May 14 -- NBA Draft Lottery 2019 (Chicago)
May 14-19 -- NBA Draft Combine 2019 (Chicago)
June 10 -- NBA Draft Early Entry Entrant Withdrawal Deadline (5 p.m. ET)
June 20 -- NBA Draft 2019
OFFICIAL NBA EARLY ENTRANTS LIST
OFFICIAL NBA COMBINE INVITE LIST
OFFICIAL NBA G-LEAGUE COMBINE INVITE LIST
Declared - Staying in, not returning
Arizona - Brandon Randolph 1
Arizona State - Luguentz Dort 1
Arkansas - Daniel Gafford 1
Arkansas LR - Rayjon Tucker 1
Auburn - Jared Harper 1, Chuma Okeke 1
Boston College - Ky Bowman 1
Creighton - Martin Krampelj 1
Duke - Z-Z-Z-ZIOOOOOON Williamson 1, RJ Barrett 1, Cam Reddish 1, Marques Bolden 1
Florida State - Mfiondu Kabengele 1
Georgia - Nic Claxton 1
Gonzaga - Rui Hachimura 1, Zach Norvell 1, Brandon Clarke 1
Houston - Armoni Brooks 1
Iowa - Tyler Cook 1
Iowa State - Lindell Wigginton 1, Cameron Lard 1, Talen Horton-Tucker 1
Indiana - Romeo Langford 1
Kansas - Dedric Lawson 1, Quentin Grimes 1
Kentucky - PJ Washington 1, Tyler Herro 1, Keldon Johnson 1
Louisville - VJ King 1
LSU - Naz Reid 1, Tremont Waters 1
Maryland - Bruno Fernando 1
Miami - Dewan Hernandez 1
Michigan - Charles Matthews 1, Jordan Poole 1, Ignas Brazdeikis 1
Michigan State - Nick Ward 1
Minnesota - Amir Coffey 1
Missouri - Jontay Porter 1
Murray State - Ja Morant 1
NC State/Brewster Academy - Jalen Lecque 1
Nebraska - Isaiah Roby 1
North Carolina - Nassir Little 1, Coby White 1
Oregon - Bol Bol 1, Louis King 1, Kenny Wooten 1
Purdue - Carsen Edwards 1
San Diego State - Jalen McDaniels 1
Stanford - KZ Okpala 1
St Joes - Charlie Brown Jr 1
St Johns - Shamorie Ponds 1, Justin Simon 1
Syracuse - Tyus Battle 1, Oshae Brissett 1
TCU - Kouat Noi 1
Tennessee - Grant Williams 1, Jordan Bone 1
Texas - Jaxson Hayes 1
Texas Tech - Jarrett Culver 1
Tulane - Samir Sehic 1
UCF - Aubrey Dawkins 1
UCLA - Kris Wilkes 1, Jaylen Hands 1, Moses Brown 1
USC - Kevin Porter Jr 1
Vanderbilt - Darius Garland 1, Simi Shittu 1
Virginia - Ty Jerome 1, De'Andre Hunter 1, Kyle Guy 1
Virginia Tech - Nickeil Alexander-Walker 1
Wake Forest - Jaylen Hoard 1
Washington - Jaylen Nowell 1
Yale - Miye Oni 1
Notable players returning to school
Alabama - Tevin Mack 1
Boston College - Nik Popovic 1
Bowling Green - Justin Turner 1
BYU - Yeoli Childs 1
Central Michigan - David Dileo 1
Cincinnati - Jarron Cumberland 1
Davidson - Kellan Grady, Jon Axel Gudmundsson 1
Dayton - Obi Toppin 1
Duke - Tre Jones 1, Javin DeLaurier 1
FGCU - Troy Baxter 1
Florida - Andrew Nembhard 1
Georgia Tech - James Banks1
Gonzaga - Kilian Tillie 1, Filip Petrusev 1
Harvard - Bryce Aiken 1
Illinois - Ayo Dosumnu 1
Indiana - Al Durham, Devonte Green, Justin Smith 1
Iowa - Joe Weiskamp 1
Kansas - Udoka Azubuike 1, Devon Dotson 1, Quentin Grimes (transferring) 1
Kansas State - Xavier Sneed 1
Kentucky - Ashton Hagans 1, Immanuel Quickley 1, Nick Richards 1, EJ Montgomery 1
Louisiana Tech - DaQuan Bracey 1
Louisville - Steven Enoch 1, Jordan Nwora 1
LSU - Darius Days 1, Javonte Smart 1, Skylar Mays 1, Emmitt Williams 1
Marquette - Markus Howard 1
Maryland - Jalen Smith 1, Anthony Cowan 1
Michigan State - Cassius Winston 1
Mississippi State - Reggie Perry 1, Lamar Peters 1
Missouri - Jeremiah Tilmon 1
Missouri State - Tulio Da Silva 1
NC State - Markell Johnson 1
Notre Dame - TJ Gibbs 1
North Florida - Al-Wajid Aminu 1
Northern Illinois University - Eugene German 1
Ohio State - Kaleb Wesson 1
Oregon - Payton Pritchard 1
Oregon State - Tres Tinkle 1, Ethan Thompson 1
Penn State - Lamar Stevens 1
Portland State - Holland Woods 1
Providence - Alpha Diallo 1
Seton Hall - Myles Powell 1
Siena - Jalen Pickett 1
SMU - Jimmy Whitt Jr 1
South Carolina - AJ Lawson 1
South Florida - LaQuincy Rideau 1
St Francis - Keith Braxton 1
St Johns - LJ Figueroa 1
Stephen F Austin - Kevon Harris 1
TCU - Desmond Bane 1, Kevin Samuel 1
Texas A&M - Savion Flagg 1
Texas Tech - Davide Moretti 1
UNCG - James Dickey 1
Utah - Donnie Tillman 1
Utah State - Neemias Queta 1
Vermont - Anthony Lamb 1
Villanova - Caleb Daniels (Tulane transfer) 1
Virginia - Mamadi Diakite 1
Virginia Tech - Kerry Blackshear (transferring) 1
Washington State - CJ Elleby 1
West Virginia - Sagaba Konate - 1
Western Kentucky - Charles Bassey 1
William & Mary - Nathan Knight 1
Xavier - Nnaji Marshall 1, Paul Scruggs, Tyrique Jones 1, Quentin Goodin 1
FAQ:
  1. What's an agent? - An agent is someone you pay to help you in becoming and being a professional basketball player. Essentially all players have these when they're pros. The significance of it to us is that per NCAA rules, once a player has signed with or given/received money from an agent, they FORFEIT any remaining college eligibility. They are no longer considered amateurs.
  2. What about the new NCAA Rules? - The NCAA has changed the above rule, a little. Players have the option now to retain an agent after the season. The agents can pay for players’ meals, lodging and travel during the negotiation period. The agents also must be certified by the NCAA, and the players have to terminate the relationship if they return to a school. Players can also now return to school after going undrafted without losing eligibility, but only if they participated in the NBA combine. For more info, check these articles by SI and USA Today
  3. A senior has reported signing an agent, what does that mean? - Not a thing for us. Seniors, or players who have played a full 4 years, no longer have any eligibility remaining, so they really don't have a reason to not sign an agent if they play to pursue a career in basketball. Since they can't return to school, their hiring of an agent or leaving for the draft isn't really news, and won't be listed here. This list is only for players making a choice to forgo playing more in college.
  4. I believe you've missed a player, can you add them to the list? - Yep, I'm sure I'll miss some people. Make a comment saying "u/OutlawsHeels - I think you've missed [player]" and I'll add them. Bonus points if you include a reputable source in your post.
  5. A players status has changed, how should I report this? - Same as above, just ping me.
  6. Why are most of these links just links to Jon Rothstein and Evan Daniels on twitter? - I just like & follow both reporters, plus they usually break a lot of news and are the first sources I can find.
LAST YEAR
submitted by OutlawsHeels to CollegeBasketball [link] [comments]


2019.01.23 17:00 StrawberryTea Who is the real National Champion in each year of college football?

TL;DR: Lots of teams claim lots of national championships for lots of reasons with lots of evidentiary sources.
Edit: Added the key at the bottom.
Edit 2: Added a list of my errors to the bottom. It was bound to happen.
This post is going to be long. In several places I've replaced tables in the text with links to images of the tables to help. There’s just a lot to cover in 150 years.
For the earliest seasons National Champions were named retroactively by various groups and individuals, later seasons relied on more timely declarations, and most recent college football history had seen a turn to attempt to pin down one set system, most recently with playoffs that are, depending on who you ask, too small, too late, incomplete, or boringly repetitive. Social media and online media groups have their own rankings or have tried to make lists of national champions in preceding years. So, setting aside the drink question of how or if we should change the current system, I wanted to look at what came before.
I dug through various websites to figure out who named who national champions each year. I also looked at pages associated with different universities. And yes, not all rankings are made equally and I’m sure I missed some. In the end, we’ll never have a perfect answer to this. There are too many, sometimes conflicting, systems in place and retroactive naming is tricky, as is the idea that college football changes over time – what makes a national champion today is not exactly what made one in 1950 or 1900 or 1869.

The “Consensus” 1 National Champion Per Year: Maybe?

This was my attempt to pull together what I’d learned into a list of 1 national champion per year, based on who was the most “voted for” across the various rankings and lists. This ignores vacated championships.Suck it, NCAA. If there was a tie, I went to number of wins and then SoS.
Here is my main compiled data set. Boxes that are gray indicate when that system or list is not active. Green is for information I'm still missing. If you have more information on those, I’d appreciate it. I'll make a comment listing what those 1-56 columns are - they each stand for a ranking system or list of the national champions from certain years, pulled from various recognized ranking systems, social media/online sources, or the NCAA and schools.

The "Consensus" Timeline of National Champions

Edit new image with correction: 1952 should be Michigan State, not Michigan. Error on my part in editing the original image.
In this system there are a total of 148 years in which 37 teams have won National Championships. There is no national champion for 1871 and, of course, we don't have one for 2019 yet. Here is how this list varies from other lists, as this system gives the national championship to…

Who Says What? Claims, Potential Claims, and Lists Over the Years

Years in bold in the images are those from the NCAA’s main list of national champions.
There are 59 teams who can lay some claim to national championships over 148 years. No one, not even Princeton, tries to claim 1871.
Teams with the most claimed national championships:
Princeton Yale Alabama Michigan Notre Dame USC
Teams with the most potential national championships if all were claimed:
Princeton Yale Alabama Notre Dame Ohio State USC Oklahoma Michigan Pittsburgh Nebraska
Teams that only claim national championships recognized on the NCAA’s main list:
Arkansas Auburn BYU Clemson Colorado Florida Florida State Georgia Tech Harvard Maryland Nebraska Notre Dame Ohio State Oklahoma Penn State Texas UCLA
18 teams claim 100% of their potential claims:
Princeton Pennsylvania Michigan State California Cornell Illinois Washington Clemson Lafayette SMU Texas A&M Chicago BYU Colorado Dartmouth Detroit Kentucky UCF UCLA
12 teams seem to claim 0% of their potential claims:
Arizona State Missouri Vanderbilt Centre Colgate Duke Navy Purdue Rutgers Sewanee Syracuse Utah Washington & Jefferson
29 teams claim 29-96% of their potential claims:
Yale Alabama Notre Dame USC Michigan Pittsburgh Ohio State Oklahoma Harvard Minnesota LSU Tennessee Nebraska Miami Georgia Texas Iowa Florida State Georgia Tech Army Florida Penn State Auburn Ole Miss Stanford TCU Arkansas Maryland Oklahoma
1 team seems to claim more than their potential claims:
Columbia ಠ_ಠ Literally the only claim I can find for Columbia in 1933 as National Champions is in Columbia’s media guide where they claim the team was “referred to as a national champ.”
By Current Conference
After reading the claim in Penn’s media guide that “the Ivy League’s eight teams still combine for more national championships than any other conference in the country,” I decided to look at it. I based it on current conference membership versus conference membership at the time of the national championship, since that seemed to be how Penn was wording it. This puts the same three conferences in the lead no matter which list we look at.
List Ivy League Big Ten SEC
NCAA Main List 48 41 31
Team Claims 77 50 47
All Potential Claims 83 82 66

Interesting Bits

1869: Princeton and Rutgers split the season with each winning one game, but Princeton beat Rutgers 8-0 while Rutgers beat Princeton by just 6-4.
1871: This is the only year since 1869 in which no national champion was declared. Princeton did play Princeton Theological Seminary during that year and one online source puts the results at 3 wins for Princeton, but the games have been dubbed practice or exhibition games.
1874: For this season the Billingsley Report retroactively named Princeton national champions, but the National Championship Foundation gave the honor to Yale. Parke H. Davis named both co-champions alongside Harvard. This made a third of the teams that year national champions – today we’d have 43 co-champions.
1876: Yale’s win over Princeton was commemorated in a print titled “The first intercollegiate championship football game held in America” by Everett Henry published in 1930, which pre-dates at least some of the retroactive naming of Yale as National Champions.
1880: The Princeton-Harvard game that season was described at the time by The Sun as “the first match of the series for the championship of the College Football Association.” Of course, it was also described as “a game which is nominally football, but in reality a series of wrestling encounters for the possession of a large leather globe.”
1886: Princeton and Yale again split the championship and there was some controversy over the Princeton-Yale game itself that year, specifically with the initial lack of and subsequent substitution with another referee, leading the game to be named a 0-0 tie. Later the New York Times reported that the “Intercollegiate Football Convention met at the Fifth-Avenue Hotel last evening, and decided that nothing had been done and that no one held the championship for 1886.” The debate continued later in letters to the editor published in the New York Times.
1899: The Sewanee Tigers managed 5 shutout wins in 6 days in a season of 11 shutouts. They took down Texas on November 9 (12-0), Texas A&M on November 10 (10-0), Tulane on November 11 (23-0), took November 12 off, then beat LSU on November 13 (34-0) and Ole Miss on on November 14 (12-0). That season they also defeated Georgia (12-0), Georgia Tech (32-0), Tennessee (46-0), Southwestern Presbyterian (54-0), Cumberland (71-0), and North Carolina (5-0). Auburn was the only team to score on them, but Sewanee still defeated them, 11-10.
1901: The first non-East Coast National Champion with the Michigan Wolverines, who ended their season by defeating Stanford 49-0 in the inaugural Tournament East–West football game, now the Rose Bowl.
1908: The first southern team to have a recognized claim at a national championship was LSU, who went 10-0. However, Tulane accused LSU players of “professionalism” (being professional athletes rather than students). A SIAA conference investigation cleared LSU. Nevertheless some publications purportedly responded by naming Auburn SIAA champions.
1918: There was a shortened season due to the Spanish flu. Michigan and Pitt are recognized as the national champions for that year but played just 5 games each.
1919: The Centre “Praying” Colonels were accused by West Virginia of playing “ringers,” something Centre refuted.
1922: At the end of the 1922 season, the Washington & Jefferson vs. Cal Rose Bowl ends at 0-0, the only scoreless Rose Bowl.
1926: The last Rose Bowl to end in a tie at 7-7 with Alabama and Stanford, a game the United Press referred to as "the football championship of America” and that brought about the first “coast-to-coast” broadcast via NBC.
1928: Georgia Tech wins the Rose Bowl 8-7 over Cal after Cal’s Roy Riegals picked up a Georgia Tech fumble and ran it 65 yards….the wrong way. His own teammate had to tackle him.
1932: The Colgate Red Raiders were undefeated but were not offered an invitation to the Rose Bowl, leaving them “unbeaten, untied, unscored upon, and uninvited.”
1936: The start of the continuously running AP poll (there had been one poll released in November 1934). Minnesota topped the final poll with 25 points.
1939: USC did not recognize their claim to the National Champion status until 2004. Cornell’s team was invited to the Rose Bowl but the university president Edmund Ezra Day turned it down, “citing the players’ need to catch up on their studies.”
1942 The Rose Bowl – which featured Duke and Oregon State – was moved to North Carolina. Midway into this footage of the game you’ll hear a pop followed by the announcer going “don’t pay any attention to that pistol going off that was just somebody who was a bit celebrate-y.”
1944: The AP poll featured Service Teams playing during WWII.
1945: Oklahoma A&M, now Oklahoma State, lays claim to a national championship based on their submission to the AFCA who had requested applications from teams who thought they had a legitimate bid for national championships.
1950: First AP pre-season poll. The Coaches Poll began and, as they threw shade at the AP put it, "The nature of the board giving each section of the country equal representation avoids the sectional bias and ballot box stuffing for which other football polls have been criticized."
1954: There is a "no repeat" rule in effect for the conferences, meaning that instead of UCLA going to the Rose Bowl, USC went since UCLA had gone the year before.
1956: Teams split into the University Division (Division I) and College Division (Divisions II and III).
1960: The first year both the UPI and AP conducted a "small college poll." Both put Ohio as the number 1 "small college" team.
1964: The NCAA recognizes 3 national champions for 1964: Alabama, Arkansas, and Notre Dame. The final AP and Coaches’ polls had been released before the bowl games, so Alabama’s loss to Texas (Arkansas had already beaten Texas during the season) didn’t knock them out of the top. This led to several years of back and forth about if the polls should wrap at the end of the regular season or after bowls before the post-bowl final poll became more regular in 1968. Meanwhile, Arkansas took down Nebraska in their bowl..
1975: Arizona State went 12-0, the only team with a claim to the national championship that year to go undefeated, but neither the NCAA nor Arizona State recognize the championship. Rob Petersen has a song about their win in the Fiesta Bowl.
1978: #1 Penn State faced #2 Alabama in the Sugar Bowl, complete with a goal line stand.
1980: An SB Nation piece on how “Georgia became one of the least likely champions in college football history.”
1983: On September 3 Miami lost to Florida, 28-3. On January 2 they upset Nebraska and seized the national championship. Watch Miami block Nebraska’s attempt for a 2 point conversion.
1990: A split championship between Georgia Tech and Colorado helped eventually lead to the Bowl Coalition (it had major issues and would eventually lead to the BCS and then the college football playoffs).
1992: The year of Wide Right I in when FSU and Miami met. "This could be for a national championship."
1995: The Bowl Alliance begins and opens the way for #1 Nebraska to face #2 Florida in the Fiesta Bowl.
1998: The BCS begins. Despite being ranked third, Kansas State was not invited to a BCS bowl, leading to the "Kansas State Rule."
2001: Just one example of BCS controversy - Nebraska did not play in the Big-12 championship game, but was chosen for the Rose Bowl BCS National Championship Game. Colorado beat Nebraska, went on to win the Big-12 championship game, but had lost to Fresno State and Texas.
2004: After the NCAA vacated USC’s national championship, Auburn ended up with rings.
2007: Just weirdness.
2014: The College Football Playoffs begin.
2017: I think we’ve covered this enough in the subreddit, but in case you missed it somehow, undefeated UCF claims a national championship after being left out of the playoffs.

Most Successful Mascots

Why? Because by this point in the digging and note taking and whatnot I was vaguely delirious and wanted to know. Tl;dr: Be a big cat. If not that, a reddish color or a military force. Maybe a dog.
Category of Mascot Mascots Included Number of Teams Number of Potential Claims
Big Cats Cougars, Leopards, Lions, Nittany Lions, Panthers, Tigers, Tigers, Tigers, Tigers, Tigers, Tigers, Wildcats 12 73
Colors Big Red, Crimson, Crimson Tide, Maroons 4 41
Military Forces Cadets, Commodores, Knights, Midshipmen, Spartans, Trojans, Volunteers 7 40
Dogs Bulldogs, Bulldogs, Huskies 3 38
Ag Workers Cornhuskers, Aggies, Sooners 3 31
Clemson Ball Alabama Ball Army Ball Yale Ball

The End

So, that’s it. Thanks for reading this far!

Numerical Key for Data Set

For some more background, here is a list of the organizations, polls, etc. I looked at. Some were included because they are widely recognized as sources for determining the National Champion (BCS), some because they’re cited by other organizations or often listed (BR, variations on the Coaches’ polls), and some because I wanted to (RedditCFB). Bolded names and titles are those who are still ranking teams. I’ve included numbers that match up with the year by year charts linked to above.
(1) NCAA Main List of “college football national champions.”
(2) NCAA Recognized Ranking Systems/People from 2017 (PDF; NCAA 2017) and 2018 (PDF).
(3) Schools/teams: Alabama, Alabama 2, Arizona State, Arizona State 2, Arkansas, Army (PDF), Auburn, BYU, Cal, Centre, Chicago, Clemson (PDF), Clemson 2, Colorado, Columbia (PDF), Cornell (PDF), Dartmouth, Detroit, Duke (PDF), Florida, FSU (PDF), Georgia (PDF), Georgia Tech (PDF), Harvard, Illinois, Iowa PDF, Kentucky (PDF), Lafayette (PDF), LSU, Maryland (PDF), Miami (PDF), Michigan, Michigan State (PDF), Minnesota, Missouri, Missouri 2 (PDF), Navy, Nebraska, Notre Dame (PDF), Ohio State (PDF), Oklahoma (PDF), Oklahoma A&M, Oklahoma State (PDF), Oklahoma A&M/Oklahoma State, Oklahoma State, Ole Miss (PDF), Penn (PDF), Penn State, Pitt, Pitt 2, Princeton, Purdue (PDF), Rutgers (PDF), SMU (PDF), Stanford, TCU (PDF), Tennessee (PDF), Texas, Texas A&M, UCF (PDF), UCLA (PDF), Utah (PDF), Vanderbilt (PDF), Venderbilt 2 (PDF), Washington (PDF), Washington & Lee, Wisconsin (PDF), Yale (PDF); Sewanee
(4) Vacated titles.
Ranking systems & people (ones in bold are ongoing): (5) Anderson & Hester; (6) AP Poll; (7) Alderson System; (8) Berryman Quality Point Rating System; (9) Bowl Championship Series; (10) Billingsley Report; (11) AFCA Blue Ribbon Commission; (12) Boand System; (13) Congrove Computer Rankings; (14) College Football Playoffs; (15) College Football Researchers Association; (16) Colley Matrix; (17) Caspar Whitney; (18) DeVold System; (19) Dickinson System; (20) Dunkel System; (21) Eck Ratings System; (22) Football News; (23) Football Writers Association of America; (24) FWAA-NFF Grantland Rice Super 16; (25) Helms Athletic Foundation; (26) Harris Interactive College Football Poll (Note: Not intended to name a national champion, but rather to be part of the BCS. However, I noticed some schools were listing them as “unclaimed” championships, so I decided to include it.); (27) Houlgate System; (28) International News Service; (29) Litkenhous; (30) Massey College Football Ratings; (31) Matthews Grid Ratings; (32) National Championship Foundation; (33) National Football Foundation; (34) New York Times; (35) Parke H. Davis; (36) Poling System; (37) Rothman FACT; (38) Sporting News; (39) Sagarin Ratings; (40) Sagarin (ELO-Chess); (41) United Press; (42) United Press International; (43) United Press International/National Football Foundation; (44) USA Today; (45) USA Today/Amway; (46) USA Today/CNN; (47) USA Today/ESPN; (48) USA Today/National Football Foundation; (49) Wolfe; (50) Williamson System; (51) Football Research
Modern Social Media/Online Lists: (52) Reddit CFB Poll; (53) Reddit CFB Other Recognitions; (54) SB Nation; (55) Sports Reference; (56) 247

Errors

Even in my best efforts, I knew I'd miss some things. Here are the pieces I seem to have missed or made other errors with:
submitted by StrawberryTea to CFB [link] [comments]


2018.12.19 16:30 assessment_bot [ Non-Fatal ] [ 11/12/2018 ] AERO COMMANDER 690, Myrtle Beach/ SC

On November 12, 2018, about 1415 eastern standard time, a Gulfstream American (Aero Commander) 690C, N840JC, sustained substantial damage when it collided with terrain during an approach to landing at the Myrtle Beach International Airport (MYR), Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. The commercial pilot was seriously injured. The airplane was privately owned and operated under the provisions of Title 14 Code of Federal Regulations Part 91 as a personal flight. Instrument meteorological conditions prevailed, and an instrument flight rules flight plan was filed for the flight that departed Greater Cumberland Regional Airport (CBE), Cumberland, Maryland.
According to the pilot, he was following radar vectors for the downwind leg of the traffic patter to runway 36 at MYR. He turned for final approach and was inside the outer marker, when he encountered heavy turbulence. As he continued the approach, he described what he believed to be a microburst and the airplane started to descend rapidly. The pilot added full power in an attempt to climb, but the airplane continued to descend until it collided with the Atlantic Ocean 1 mile from the approach end of runway 36.
A review of pictures of the wreckage provided by a Federal Aviation Administration inspector revealed the cockpit section of the airplane was broken away from the fuselage during the impact sequence.
At 1456, the weather recorded at MYR, included broken clouds at 6,000 ft, few clouds at 3,500 ft and wind from 010 at 8 knots. The temperature was 14C, and the dew point was 9C. The altimeter setting was 30.27 inches of mercury.
The airplane was retained for further examination.
Category Data Category Data Category Data
Event Id: 20181112X51649 Investigation Type: Accident Accident Number: ERA19LA043
Event Date: 11/12/2018 Location: Myrtle Beach, SC Country: United States
Latitude: 33.643611 Longitude: -78.919445 Airport Code: MYR
Airport Name: Myrtle Beach Intl Injury Severity: Non-Fatal Aircraft Damage: Substantial
Aircraft Category: Airplane Registration Number: N840JC Make: AERO COMMANDER
Model: 690 Amateur Built: No Number of Engines: 2
Engine Type: Turbo Prop FAR Description: Part 91: General Aviation Schedule:
Purpose of Flight: Personal Air Carrier: Total Fatal Injuries:
Total Serious Injuries: 1 Total Minor Injuries: Total Uninjured:
Weather Condition: VMC Broad Phase of Flight: APPROACH Report Status: Preliminary
Publication Date: 12/17/2018
http://www.ntsb.gov/_layouts/ntsb.aviation/brief.aspx?ev_id=20181112X51649
submitted by assessment_bot to NTSB_database [link] [comments]


2018.09.27 01:34 burning-sky Traffic Violation In NC

Hello, all. My wife and I were coming home to Maryland after a vacation in Florida. We changed up in North Carolina to give me a break and I nodded off. I awoke to my wife getting pulled over as she had 2 cop cars behind her. The speed limit (at some point) had gone from 70 to 65 and she was doing 83 (not wise!). Worse still, she didn't know why they were pulling her over (she was in the left lane), so she inched over on the left. Yeah. Needless to say, the redneck cop was crazy pissed off and made us pull over to the right side (we complied without any sort of confrontation). Well, she got a citation. When we got home I called the clerk of court (Cumberland County) as paying any sort of fee online wasn't an option. The clerk of court basically told us tough shit. Now, I'm in the military, I'll be gone at that time, and it seems as though the only option is for my wife to drag our 2 kids down to Fayetteville, NC for 2 days for a court date. We did get a deluge of letters from lawyers, and I'd much rather part with a good bit of money to avoid this simply because.

The lawyer's letters seem like bad spam mail, so having not (yet) talked with any of them, what should I expect or do? The lawyers' fees vary from $130 to $250. I know that there are court costs and other fees (not sure what, but there is always something). Some of the letters from the lawyers state that just showing up to court and paying fees is admitting guilt and will add points to my wife's license. Any good advice on this one? I've searched online, can't seem to find anything relevant. Thanks in advance!!
submitted by burning-sky to legaladvice [link] [comments]


2018.07.11 20:59 justbeingbeth Doing Bonnaroo

In the months leading up to Bonnaroo 2018, we looked for anything we could find to tell us what to expect, or give us information about what we should do, bring, plan for, etc. So now that I've gone, I figured I'd post my trip write up for anyone that is in our shoes for next year. Maybe a little more specifically is that we were a little older than the stereotypical festival goer, so my write up is a little bit from that perspective. Warning.... it's long, but once I started writing, I just couldn't stop. :) Hope this is helpful to someone!
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Who says 40 something is too old to go to a music festival? I believe that 40 is the new 20, and since in less than 12 months I will have to change the “4” to a “5,” I’ll also go with 50 is the new 30. With that being the motto that I live my life by, when our friends invited us to go to Bonnaroo with them, we said yes!
When we bought our tickets months ahead of time, we also booked a nice hotel, but as I was doing my usual obsessive pre-trip research a few weeks out, I realized that the hotel was a 40-minute ride to the festival grounds. Add in a security check, parking each day, and long days and late nights at the festival, and I began coming to the conclusion that maybe we should consider camping instead. I presented this to the rest of the group one evening, and amazingly, three glasses of wine in, that logic made perfect sense to everyone. Decision made! Camping option booked and paid for! Imagine my surprise when I woke up the next morning and realized that what I thought was a crazy dream was not actually a dream. And the biggest problem...none of us ever camp! But, since the decision was made, and more importantly, the money (nonrefundable) was paid, the only thing left to do was figure this shit out….and fast. Two words; Google and Amazon Prime. Ok, technically that’s three, but you get the point. Those two websites became our best friends over the next week and a half. Google to find out what the hell we needed to buy, then Amazon Prime to the rescue.
When we bought our Bonnaroo tickets, we also decided that we would drive to Manchester, TN from Maryland rather than fly. Something about saving money, blah, blah….but it made sense at the time. Once we were on board for the ten-hour drive to Manchester, it was only logical to add two days of fun in Nashville ahead of the festival to our itinerary (so much for saving money!). With this plan in mind, we agreed (reluctantly for us non morning people) that we would leave before dawn. Why leave at 5am? (I had the same question). With only two days to spend in Nashville ahead of the festival, we wanted to make the most of our time there, so leaving at 5am would get us there by mid-afternoon, and give us two full nights to enjoy that wonderful city. Even a non morning person like me could agree with that line of reasoning.
So what do you get after spending a week and half keeping Amazon in business? This is not actually a trick question; the answer is a lot of stuff! And not just any stuff, very important stuff that we had to bring to survive four days camping. Getting it to all fit in the car in itself was going to be a challenge, but hey, I had faith that somehow we’d make it work. The same level of confidence could not be said for one member of our group; freaking out about packing the car became a daily ritual. Thankfully, we only had to endure that for a few days, and after some very creative packing the night before we left, our “Debbie Downer” had no choice but to finally shut up. Now all we had to do was go to sleep, set six alarms to make sure that we woke up at 4:30am as planned (ok, maybe that was just me not being a morning person), then hit the road.
So...5am came, plan was executed, and after an uneventful 10-hour car ride (as far as long car rides go, uneventful is good) we arrived at our killer apartment in Nashville overlooking the Cumberland River and Titans stadium (thank you AirBnB) at 4pm. For the next two days, we ate, drank shopped (how could we not buy cowboy boots and cowboy hats), and listened to great music (what was that about “saving money”?) and had a great time! I can’t wait to return to Nashville one day!
After our two fun filled days in Nashville, it was time to head to Bonnaroo. Although the Festival started on Thursday, after reading about long delays getting into the camping grounds, we decided it made sense to deal with that on Wednesday night rather than Thursday morning. Of course, we didn’t really believe the stories of hours long delays to get in – surely people were exaggerating. Besides, by the time we were going to get to Will Call (located at a nearby high school) to pick up our camping tickets, it was going to be around 10pm or 11pm anyway. We were sure we would not have any problems. We’ll call that Bonnaroo Rookie Mistake #1. Imagine our shock when we saw the very, very, VERY long line of traffic coming in the opposite direction from Will Call heading towards the Farm. The reason we had to go to Will Call is another issue, and the lesson learned there was “NEVER have to go to Will Call!”. Having to go there from the highway rather than directly to the Farm cost us between 1 and 2 hours. I can guarantee that won’t happen again.
After picking up our camping tickets from Will Call, and spending the next three very pleasant hours in the car with no one getting frustrated at all (sarcasm totally intended), we finally arrived at the Farm and got in the line to enter. We had been told that all cars were searched for the non allowable items. While in line, we realized that the level of thoroughness of the search varied significantly from car to car. We did see some cars getting each item pulled out, but our car search was as basic as you could get. Our thought was they have to profile to some degree or they’d never get everyone in before the end of the weekend. I guess our “advanced” ages were an actual advantage here. Score one for the old people!
Once the search was complete, the check in process went smoothly. Although we decided to camp, we didn’t totally lose our minds, so we had selected the “Le Bon Comfort Tent” option, which was the highest level of General Admission camping. This meant that two nice size tents were set up for us, each with power, two cots, blankets, a table and a lantern. We had already decided that sleeping on the cots was just not an option, and came prepared with queen size Aerobeds and mattress covers. Some may call it glamping at this point, but since I didn’t see indoor plumbing in my tent, as far as I was concerned, it was still camping. Unloading the car was fun, at least from my perspective; the guys that had to actually carry all the shit that us two women thought was Absolutely Necessary to bring may feel slightly differently. Although it was after 1am at this point, (ok, maybe 2am but who was really paying attention), we had no choice but to get somewhat situated. Doing that in the dark was interesting, and at one point I think I actually had a moment of terror when I realized that this is where I was going to be spending the next four days and nights, and thought what the hell was I thinking!? But, there was no turning back now. Set up took about an hour, then of course it was time to pour a well-deserved drink, take a walk around our plaza area to check it out, and then around 4am we all called it a night.
Thoughts after night #1 – The temperature going to bed was perfect and the bed was very comfortable, so amazingly, I slept very well; that is until about 8am when the sun was blazing and the tent was as light it could be, and about as hot as a sauna. We did have a big box fan, but surprise, surprise, blowing hot air around doesn’t help cool things down all that much. Based on things we read and saw with other people’s tents, I would say this was Rookie Mistake #2….not putting a tarp over the top of our tent on the side that the sun would come up on. In all fairness, since we never actually did that, I can’t say for sure how much that would have helped. But, since many other tents had this, I’m gonna go with “survey says”…it would have helped.
Once we were awake, it was time to check out the area, especially the facilities, in the daylight. Being in the Le Bon area, we had flushable toilets, a “sink” truck (I don’t know what else to call it) and real showers. The toilets and sinks were free; the showers were $10 a shower. For me, these were the make or break for my camping experience as I’m not sure I could have dealt with a port-a-potty for four days. And the real showers were worth every cent of that $10. There was a half price “happy hour” shower option, but the timing never worked for me. And speaking of showers, while we certainly made many rookie mistakes, we managed to impress the veteran campers around us with one of our Amazon purchases…..a solar shower and privacy tent. While others had solar showers, it was the privacy tent that set us apart. Those two were worth their combined $60 price tag. The real showers were a great option, and I loved being able to start the day taking a long hot shower, but it was great to be able to rinse the sunscreen and sweat off as many times as I wanted throughout the day, and not have to weigh whether it was worth spending $10 each time to do so. And if the real shower line was too long, the solar shower was a great plan B. Having the privacy tent allowed for a pretty “real” shower experience, if you get my point. Conclusion…..while having a real shower option was great, if the only shower option was the solar shower, that would have been ok too. So, score one for the rookies with this one!
As for the festival itself – it was incredible! As expected, there were multiple stages, tons of really delicious food options, tons of venders selling very cool stuff, and tons of great music. And I am happy to report that we were not the only 40-somethings in attendance. What started out as a fun game to find others in our age range (our friend “offered” $10 for any one of us who could point out someone who seemed 40+), would have paid off my mortgage had the person who thought this would be challenging actually been ready to put his money where his mouth was. So while we certainly were not the majority, there were plenty of people checking the over 40 (and probably over 50+) box. And as an added bonus, maybe, just maybe, we gave some hope to the twenty-somethings that life isn’t totally over after 30. Or maybe they just thought the crazy old people were entertaining…who knows?
So, what did we learn after spending four days and nights at Bonnaroo?
1) Study the map – First things first, let me define what makes up “Bonnaroo”. You have the camping areas, which is massive and includes all the plazas, where “experiences” are going on at all hours of the day and night. With the density of tents, the term “refugee camp” was mentioned a few times, but with a laugh. As for the plazas, we didn’t really explore them so I can’t really say anything about them. Then you have Centeroo. According to the Bonnarro website, Centeroo is “the festival nucleus”. This is where all the music stages are located as well as where you will find the majority of food and venders. Maybe it was just our group, but we seemed to have a problem remembering where each stage was in relation to each other. Although we got a little better, even by day 4 we still found ourselves sometimes wandering around trying to find the stage we were looking for. And the cute yet totally confusion creating names of the stages didn’t make it any easier…”What Stage”, “That Tent”, “This Tent”. The old Abbot and Costello “Who’s on First” comedy routine came to mind many times throughout the weekend (and if you even get that joke, you’ve dated yourself). Spend some time looking at the map and try to really learn where things are and you will be happy that you did. Which brings me to item #2.
2) Bathrooms - There are two types of bathrooms within Centeroo; very well maintained permanent bathroom facilities with flushable toilets and sinks, and port-a-potty stations. If you are just looking for a Restroom sign, you won’t realize which type of facility it is until you get there. If you have a preference, at that point it may be too late to know that you’ve made a mistake. So, if type of bathroom matters, the lesson learned is to figure out at the start where the permanent facilities are. Not only does the map actually differentiate between bathrooms and flushable toilets, if you know where each stage is, you’ll be able to remember where the flushable toilets are (you can see a theme here….bathrooms mattered to our group)
3) Make a playlist ahead of time – While you may be familiar with the headliners and some of the other bands playing, there will be many, many bands that you have never heard of. Take the time to listen to samples of them, and in the weeks leading up to the festival, either listen to one of the pre-made playlists available on the Bonnaroo website, or make your own. I’m sure you will discover some new favorite bands. And not only will you discover great new music, but being familiar with more of the music will make your experience at Bonnaroo even better. I called it a “labor of love”, but by the time we left home, my Bonnaroo playlist had over 300 songs on it, all of which were from just the bands that we liked and wanted to see. I played this playlist so often for our group ahead of time that I kept hearing the phrase “oh, I know this song” during shows. Yeah…mission accomplished!
4) Music Plan – There is so much music going on all day and night, and if you don’t have at least some plan to go by, and instead decide to wing it and wander around, you’ll end up missing bands that you would have wanted to see. Centeroo is a big place, you’ll get lots of steps in for those that are counting, but because of that, you need to have some idea of what you want to see so that you can go from stage to stage efficiently. I attempted to upload an image of a page of my music plan to show what I included and why having that information ready when we needed it was helpful. Keep in mind, the ratings and music assessments are just my opinions as I was tasked with creating the plan for our group. Listening to all the music and creating the plan was time consuming but a total "labor of love" that made me even more excited to see these bands once we were there. Which brings me to item #5
5) Be flexible with the plan - Know that you won’t get to everything on your Music Plan. The plan should be a guide and a good place to start, but the first bands start playing at 11am, and the last ones can go on after 2am, and that doesn’t even count all the music and other experience options taking place in the plazas until 7am. That’s a long day and night, so when you are sitting at home listening to samples of the bands, creating a playlist, making your plan, and getting excited to go, there is a good chance that your plan will be much more ambitious then you’ll be once you are there. That’s ok. Our approach was to categorize bands as “can’t miss”, “really want to see” and “will see if it works out”. In the end, there were some bands that I would have liked to see and didn’t get to, but since my sanity was still intact by the end of the four days, that’s probably ok. Which brings me to item #6
6) Don’t plan to spend the entire day and night at Centeroo - One of the things I loved so much about Bonnaroo is how much was there was to do at all hours. While that is awesome, no one can or should try to do it all. If this was a 24-hour festival, I’d probably be leading the charge to do as much as I could, and trying to convince those with me that we can sleep when we are dead so we should power through (I can’t imagine why my friends keep referring to me at 2am as a “Rockstar”). But, with a four-day festival, that’s just not realistic or enjoyable, and there is no prize for whoever sees the most acts. Give yourself some breaks. The first two days we went to Centeroo in the early afternoon, spent a few hours, came back to camp, showered (in our awesome and very clutch solar shower), enjoyed a drink, then headed back in the evening. The last two days, we just relaxed until mid- afternoon (3-4ish), then went in for the duration of the afternoon and night. Yes, we did end up missing some bands that were on the plan that we wanted to see, but it was worth it as we didn’t feel like we were crazed and exhausted. But, I do feel like I need I need an “Alt Bonnaroo” and see a different set of performances because there are so many bands that I didn’t get to see that I would have liked to.
7) Centeroo – Plan to do a lot of walking, a lot of standing, and A LOT of water drinking. It’s Tennessee and it’s June; it’s probably going to be hot, so don’t forget about drinking a lot of water, especially if you are also indulging in drinks stronger than water. The good news is that there are water filling stations all around Centeroo. Friend to friend…you definitely want to take advantage of them. Whether you want to use one of those cool Camelbacks (a very popular option here), so you don’t have to actually go through the effort of lifting a bottle to your mouth, or the old fashioned water bottle method, make sure that you stay hydrated.
For those that enjoy seeing their “steps” rack up, we averaged about 20K steps per day, so the motto is “cute but comfortable” when it comes to shoes. And in-between all the walking, you will see lots of great music. And what we did at each show differed. As some we were standing and dancing, or trying to get as close to the stage as possible (ok, maybe that last part was just me and whichever member of our group was in charge of babysitting me for that show), while at others we sat on a blanket and listened and watched on the big screens. Packing a blanket in our handy dandy see through back pack (did I mention what a great investment one big and one little one of those was?) was great. Some people had small chairs, and others had these cool blow up couches. I think I preferred the blanket to chairs, but if they are small and you can fit them in a backpack, no reason not to have them just in case.
8) Pack way less than you think you will need – I’m referring to clothes here. It’s Tennessee and it’s June; it’s probably going to be hot (did I mention this already?). Shorts and bathing suit tops ended up being our attire most days. If you don’t want to wear a bathing suit top, then a light tank top would work. Wearing bathing suits in the daytime also came in handy to cool off in the fountains. The good news is it did cool off a fair amount at night and was perfect sleeping weather. Even though we changed each day between what we wore during the day to what we wore at night, I still didn’t touch ¾ of what I brought. When camping and living out of a suitcase, it was easier sometimes to just grab the same shirt or shorts that were on top rather than dig through to find something. Now, that doesn’t mean we weren’t putting together cool “festival outfits” (I learned from my teenage daughter that you have to put thought into your festival outfits), but even with that, I brought way more clothes than I needed. Caveat here.... we only had two hours of rain the whole time we were there, which was in the morning of the last day. I imagine if it rained more, and if we were getting soaked in Centeroo, I would have needed to change more often due to wet clothes. But still…if I’m being honest, I had way more clothes than I would have needed even then. And remember the part about the tons of cool venders….yeah…not only did I not wear much of what I brought, I bought new clothes that I wore there too.
You will also want a variety of footwear; for the bathrooms and showers at the campsite, for walking around Centeroo (and you may want different shoes for day vs night), rainboots if you are walking around in the full out rain, and hiking boots for mud. Once the rain ended it got really muddy, so my hiking boots came in very handy then.
9) Four days is a long time – I definitely noticed some changes in people between the first two days and the last two days. During the first two days everyone is bright eyed, super excited and full of energy. Hand slapping along the lines to get into Centerroo, lots of super enthusiastic “Happy Roo” greetings from strangers. It was infectious and you just couldn’t help getting sucked in to the positive vibes. By day three you could start to see some changes; people were getting a bit sluggish, the greetings were still there, everyone was still very friendly, but not quite as enthusiastic. And even if technically clean because there was access to showers (at least for some people), you still start to feel grimy after living outside for a few days. And it doesn’t help that the average hours spent sleeping per person was somewhere in the 3-5 hour range (ok, I’m making up that statistic, but it’s probably pretty accurate), so that also starts to take a toll. Which brings me to item #10
10) Sleeping – How well you will sleep may depend on how well you can tune out loud music, or how good your earplugs are if the answer to the first question is “not well”. There is music going on until 7am. Depending on where your campground is, you may hear some type of music as loudly as if it was on a speaker in your tent. I for one had no problem with this and actually slept very well. Others in our group…not so much. This can start to get tough if you are tired and can’t sleep and can’t get away from the music. Rookie Mistake #3…we did read that earplugs were something worth bringing, but decided against the $20 good earplugs and opted for the very cheap drugstore ones. The latter kind may be fine if you are doing normal camping, but at a music festival, we should have taken the advice about getting real sound canceling ones.
11) Food – Good news…there were a lot of really good, interesting and fresh food options around the campsites and in Centeroo. Bad news… the food was really expensive, and this is coming from people who live in DC. Since we were not seasoned campers, we had decided not to bring a grill, a propane tank burner, or anything else that could have caused major damage while trying to cook our own food. We also weren’t sure that we could keep meat or dairy items cold enough for four days, so we decided ahead of time to look the other way with respect to cost, and just bring non refrigerated snack food for the tent. Then for our meals, we would take advantage of the excuse not to cook and enjoy the food options available to us. For the most part this worked out well, though I haven’t seen my credit card bill yet. And while we had good intentions and brought a lot of snack food to the campsite, we also brought a lot of snack food home. Maybe it was the heat, maybe it was being too busy with all the music, but it seemed that no one was very hungry in between meals, so most of the snack food stayed in the box it was brought in. Now, all that being said, and the whole “hindsight is 20/20” cliché, bags of ice were easily available for purchase at a cost of $5 per bag, and we also read about getting dry ice. If you were so inclined, bringing real food and keeping it cold would have been doable, but we’ll just keep telling ourselves that it was too much effort so that we don’t start beating ourselves up when the credit card bill comes.
12) Adult Beverages – This needs to be broken up into drinks at the campsite and drinks in Centeroo
a. Bonnaroo camping rules allowed for two cases of beer per person, two boxes of wine per person and 1.75L of hard alcohol per person. If one person drank all of this over the course of four days and four nights, I think that would land them in the hospital. But, our motto was better to have too much than not enough, so we brought a lot. Besides, who doesn’t want options! Glass bottles were not allowed in the campsite, so it was Amazon to the rescue once again. We bought plastic 750ml bottles, then filled them with liquor and champagne (morning mimosas were wonderful). And while no one would ever accuse our group of being teetotalers, even we couldn’t manage to drink all that we brought.
b. Drinking in Centeroo was interesting – First things first, it would be very difficult to sneak alcohol in as you could only bring in empty drinking containers or camelbacks, and all bags were searched. There may be a way to get creative with filling sunscreen bottles, but we didn’t think that far head. That may be a good thought for next time.
Just like the food, drinks were expensive. Probably not surprising as that is always a money maker for a venue, but prepare for sticker shock. If you’re a beer drinker, and you can get past the sticker shock, you’ll be happy. There were lots of beer options very readily available, including a full-on craft beer pavilion. Unfortunately, if beer is not your thing, as is the case for me, your options get much slimmer. Wine (offered only as “red” or “white”) was available sporadically. Also offered at sporadic locations at ransom level prices were “specialty cocktails”. We may have been a little more tolerant of the ransom level prices if we thought there was actually measurable levels of alcohol in them. Unfortunately, that did not seem to be the case. At 5’3 and 123 pounds, a “double” of anything should have some effect on me. So, if beer or spending lots of money on questionable alcoholic drinks is not appealing, but having a nice little buzz while dancing or enjoying music sounds good, I would suggest having some drinks before heading into Centeroo. Even if you decide to pony up the dollars for a drink or two inside, if you are able to enjoy the drinks you brought with you first, you’ll keep the number of drinks bought to a minimum. And depending on where your campsite is, you will have some type of walk from the campsite to the Centeroo entrance…think “road sodas” but the foot version. Between the walk and the line to get in, you will have time to enjoy one last free cocktail, so may as well take advantage of that.
13) Grounds and cleanliness – This includes the Campgrounds, Centeroo and the facilities. We definitely saw a change between days 1 and 2 and days 3 and 4. Days 1 and 2, everything looked fresh and sharp and very clean. By day 3, things were clearly going downhill, and by day 4, the word gross was starting to creep into my vocabulary. While some level of this is to be expected when you are hosting 70,000+ people, I was amazed at the amount of trash that some people just left behind them. There were plenty of trashcans around, yet many people seemed to think leaving their trash and leftover food where they sat or where it fell was ok. Maybe these people all have someone that cleans up after them at home, and no one told them that wouldn’t be the case here…who knows. In any event, the grounds were getting pretty messy towards the end.
As for the bathrooms, I actually cannot say enough about the cleanliness and maintenance of the permanent bathroom facilities within Centeroo, and my hat goes off to the people that worked constantly to keep those facilities in good condition. But the port-a-pottys as well as the bathroom facilities (including the flushable toilets) in the campgrounds were not fairing so well by the end. And while there were always attendants trying to keep the flushable toilets in our camp area clean, and I have to admit that I personally never found myself in a stall without toilet paper (though I always brought a roll in just in case) these attendants were just fighting an uphill battle in the cleaning department. This is where I will give props to the female half of the population…we at least have some sense of civility, or at least seem to have some recollection of our potty training days. Unfortunately, the male species may need a refresher course. Maybe it’s putting a bunch of guys together and they regress, but from what I heard, gross is a generous description of the men’s bathrooms. Here’s a thought…maybe this is how the people that run Bonnaroo get everyone ready to leave…I mean, when you’re having so much fun, who wants to go back to reality. Make the bathroom experience less pleasant and people will have no choice but to head home.
So, there you have it! I still can’t believe that after all the months of planning, listening to music, and making and continuously updating my “Bonnaroo Playlist”, the festival is now just a bunch of great memories. I will be modifying my playlist to remove music we didn’t end up loving as much, adding more songs of the bands that we did love, and continuing to enjoy the music and the memories of an experience I will never forget. I will also be following some of these new bands to try and see them when they hit our area. Nothing beats good live music! So as I started this, is how I will end it; who says 40 something is too old to enjoy a music festival…definitely not me! I’m already thinking about what festival to attend
submitted by justbeingbeth to bonnaroo [link] [comments]


2018.06.12 19:06 HIGH_ENERGY-VOTER 🌹 GOTV 🌹 June 12th 2018 Megathread for all DSA Candidates running in Virginia, Nevada, Maine, and South Carolina.

Hello there
welcome to our demsocialists subreddit to discuss about the current endorsed DSA candidates running in 4 states today, though we don't have people running in Virginia, and South Carolina. DSA members have put up a fight with 4 candidates running today so they really outdid themselves to set up this many candidates.
(P.S., thank you to the good folks over at political_revolution for finding all these good sources to use and spread the knowledge around.)
Maine
Nevada
North Dakota
South Carolina
Virginia

Voting Information

State Find Your Poll Polls Open Polls Close
Maine Click Here 6-10AM 8PM
Nevada Click Here 7AM 7PM
North Dakota Click Here 7-9AM 7-9PM
South Carolina Click Here 7AM 7PM
Virginia Click Here 6AM 7PM
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Elections!

Maine

Name Endorsement Race Election Date Result
Betsy Sweet (04/12/18) Governor June 12, 2018 16.2%
Zak Ringelstein (03/27/18) US Senate June 12, 2018
Jeremy Mele (03/22/18) State House, District 19 June 12, 2018
Mike Sylvester (03/22/18) State House, District 39 June 12, 2018
Seth Levy (03/22/18) Cumberland County District Attorney June 12, 2018

North Dakota

Name Endorsement Race Election Date Result
Nyamal Dei (04/12/18) Fargo Public School Board June 12, 2018 🔜

Nevada

Name Endorsement Race Election Date Result
Robert Langford (06/7/18) Las Vegas County District Attorney June 12, 2018
Unfortunately, the DSA doesn't have a dog to fight for in any other state primaries today, But on June 26 we will have plenty of candidates running in places such as Maryland, colorado, Etc.

Look at the wiki for more information about all the current DSA candidates that were previously running or have won their primaries for 2018. and if you don't see anyone that you know is a DSA member or is endorsed by the Democratic Socialists of America please Message us in the thread or DM the moderators!!

Make sure to Join our Discord so we can chat about the Elections tonight! we have over 350+ members and growing!

submitted by HIGH_ENERGY-VOTER to demsocialists [link] [comments]


2018.04.03 16:49 murrayyyyy Your Starting 10 Champion is...

User Score Left
SkiBum90 6333 0
ISAIDNODADDYBADTOUCH 5847 0
oalos255 5818 0
mgmfa 5631 0
Taggs33 5464 0
SwaglordKen 5436 0
NFLAddict 5130 1
JonBoyJackson 5062 0
sowapatch 4877 0
nickndfi 4687 2
GraveyardForActors 4576 1
Symphonize 4496 0
ilovetigerwoods 4465 0
tphillytho 4391 1
NotaBene88 4265 0
ssmeeds 4211 0
PM_ME_YOUR_RIGHT_ASS 4078 1
Jaegs21 4055 0
scottjew 4053 0
ivarngizteb 4000 0
MY-NAME_IS_MY-NAME 3992 1
Ybk321 3914 1
Jwill2842 3820 0
pflybyes 3814 0
sportsman29 3785 0
JLR- 3776 1
_lil_rain 3764 0
VolinAU 3752 0
SorryResponsibility 3749 1
Ned_Pepper 3728 0
SC-2 3687 0
butter 3664 0
WeakStreamZ 3652 1
Jsedwards129 3588 0
Vince, Pt. II 3566 0
conthedon34 3562 1
tbatts33 3549 0
muns 3544 0
DENIMDOM 3466 0
pusgnihtekami 3464 0
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Atlas2686 3396 1
notapoliceguy 3389 0
dingleberriesXL 3389 1
jjoselit 3288 0
man_mayo 3241 1
Pink_tiger 3216 0
SaucyFingers 3182 0
scsd4222 3086 0
BigVigDegen 3033 0
homemade_mayo 2987 1
hup_hup 2915 0
chubbzpeterson 2895 0
Merinancer 2859 0
TheEgg 2849 0
parkowl 2794 0
goat0 2745 0
Itsbrianyo 2695 1
w0ozie 2645 0
tjelay 2529 1
Scotto19 2486 2
BobTheNarp 2454 0
young drachma 2409 0
shanekelly31 2343 0
murrayyyyy 2321 0
Littlejon3 2306 0
terps973 2219 0
kendahlj 2187 1
DatingYourEx 2173 0
mrgrooves 2169 2
StockNinja702 2110 0
bonsotheclown 2103 2
waddupworld 1974 0
theeagle 1819 2
WillieStroker 1576 0
clutch_hutch_760 1260 0
And for anyone who wondered, here are the top scorers in the game this year. See you in 2019.
Seed Team Player Pts Picked % picked
11 Loyola Chicago Clayton Custer 2002 15 19.50%
9 Kansas State Barry Brown 1341 1 1.30%
11 Syracuse Tyus Battle 1078 6 7.80%
3 Michigan Moritz Wagner 1068 13 16.90%
13 Buffalo Wes Clark 1001 0 0.00%
11 Syracuse Oshae Brissett 990 1 1.30%
11 Loyola Chicago Donte Ingram 979 2 2.60%
3 Michigan Muhammad-Ali Abdur-Rahkman 948 5 6.50%
7 Texas A&M Tyler Davis 854 0 0.00%
10 Butler Kelan Martin 850 26 33.80%
16 Maryland Baltimore County Jairus Lyles 832 1 1.30%
9 Florida State Terance Mann 828 0 0.00%
13 Marshall Jon Elmore 741 10 13.00%
13 Buffalo CJ Massinburg 715 0 0.00%
7 Nevada Caleb Martin 707 8 10.40%
7 Nevada Jordan Caroline 679 2 2.60%
13 Marshall Ajdin Penava 676 0 0.00%
8 Seton Hall Khadeen Carrington 656 3 3.90%
5 Kentucky Shai Gilgeous-Alexander 590 3 3.90%
5 West Virginia Jevon Carter 565 29 37.70%
11 Syracuse Frank Howard 561 0 0.00%
13 Buffalo Jeremy Harris 559 0 0.00%
9 Alabama Collin Sexton 531 23 29.90%
10 Butler Kamar Baldwin 520 1 1.30%
6 Houston Rob Gray 510 30 39.00%
3 Texas Tech Keenan Evans 489 12 15.60%
8 Seton Hall Angel Delgado 488 2 2.60%
13 Marshall C.J. Burks 481 1 1.30%
5 Clemson Marcquise Reed 430 2 2.60%
4 Gonzaga Rui Hachimura 408 1 1.30%
5 Kentucky Kevin Knox 400 9 11.70%
5 Ohio State Keita Bates-Diop 400 14 18.20%
2 Duke Marvin Bagley III 392 40 51.90%
14 Bucknell Zach Thomas 378 1 1.30%
13 Buffalo Nick Perkins 377 0 0.00%
8 Seton Hall Myles Powell 376 0 0.00%
5 West Virginia Daxter Miles Jr. 375 3 3.90%
6 Florida Jalen Hudson 372 12 15.60%
15 Georgia State D'Marcus Simonds 360 2 2.60%
1 Kansas Malik Newman 350 1 1.30%
12 New Mexico State Zach Lofton 348 27 35.10%
1 Villanova Jalen Brunson 325 18 23.40%
2 Duke Gary Trent Jr. 324 0 0.00%
12 Murray State Terrell Miller Jr. 324 0 0.00%
9 NC State Allerik Freeman 324 1 1.30%
12 South Dakota State Mike Daum 324 31 40.30%
16 Texas Southern Demontrae Jefferson 320 1 1.30%
1 Villanova Mikal Bridges 319 9 11.70%
15 Cal State Fullerton Kyle Allman 315 0 0.00%
13 Charleston Jarrell Brantley 312 0 0.00%
10 Oklahoma Trae Young 280 36 46.80%
2 Purdue Carsen Edwards 262 13 16.90%
2 Duke Grayson Allen 258 3 3.90%
8 Seton Hall Desi Rodriguez 256 4 5.20%
4 Gonzaga Josh Perkins 252 5 6.50%
1 Kansas Devonte' Graham 252 11 14.30%
4 Gonzaga Johnathan Williams 244 17 22.10%
2 Duke Wendell Carter Jr 234 2 2.60%
7 Rhode Island Jared Terrell 231 3 3.90%
10 Providence Rodney Bullock 220 1 1.30%
14 Montana Ahmaad Rorie 210 2 2.60%
14 Montana Michael Oguine 210 0 0.00%
10 Providence Alpha Diallo 210 1 1.30%
13 Charleston Grant Riller 208 5 6.50%
13 UNC Greensboro Francis Alonso 208 0 0.00%
14 SF Austin Shannon Bogues 196 1 1.30%
15 Lipscomb Rob Marberry 195 0 0.00%
12 Davidson Kellan Grady 192 1 1.30%
12 South Dakota State David Jenkins Jr. 192 0 0.00%
16 Texas Southern Donte Clark 192 0 0.00%
2 Purdue Vincent Edwards 182 1 1.30%
6 Florida Chris Chiozza 180 1 1.30%
14 SF Austin Kevon Harris 168 0 0.00%
1 Kansas Sviatoslav Mykhailiuk 163 0 0.00%
4 Auburn Mustapha Heron 160 4 5.20%
12 New Mexico State Jemerrio Jones 156 1 1.30%
11 St. Bonaventure Courtney Stockard 154 1 1.30%
3 Michigan State Miles Bridges 153 37 48.10%
8 Missouri Kassius Robertson 152 5 6.50%
8 Virginia Tech Justin Robinson 152 0 0.00%
15 Iona Rickey McGill 150 0 0.00%
12 Davidson Peyton Aldridge 144 18 23.40%
4 Auburn Bryce Brown 136 4 5.20%
15 Cal State Fullerton Khalil Ahmad 135 0 0.00%
11 San Diego State Trey Kell 132 3 3.90%
10 Texas Mohamed Bamba 130 3 3.90%
3 Tennessee Admiral Schofield 129 6 7.80%
8 Missouri Michael Porter Jr. 128 5 6.50%
16 Penn Ryan Betley 128 1 1.30%
3 Michigan State Cassius Winston 123 4 5.20%
2 Cincinnati Jarron Cumberland 122 1 1.30%
11 San Diego State Malik Pope 121 0 0.00%
11 St. Bonaventure Jaylen Adams 121 13 16.90%
15 Lipscomb Garrison Mathews 120 5 6.50%
3 Tennessee Grant Williams 114 7 9.10%
2 North Carolina Joel Berry II 112 11 14.30%
11 St. Bonaventure Matt Mobley 110 3 3.90%
9 Kansas State Dean Wade 108 1 1.30%
12 Murray State Jonathan Stark 108 2 2.60%
7 Arkansas Jaylen Barford 105 6 7.80%
14 Bucknell Nana Foulland 98 0 0.00%
2 Cincinnati Jacob Evans 96 1 1.30%
16 Radford Ed Polite Jr. 96 0 0.00%
6 Houston Corey Davis Jr. 90 2 2.60%
7 Arkansas Daryl Macon 84 3 3.90%
3 Michigan State Nick Ward 84 1 1.30%
6 Texas Christian Kenrich Williams 84 1 1.30%
10 Texas Jacob Young 80 1 1.30%
6 Texas Christian Vladimir Brodziansky 78 0 0.00%
8 Creighton Khyri Thomas 72 1 1.30%
6 Miami Lonnie Walker IV 72 5 6.50%
2 North Carolina Luke Maye 72 6 7.80%
10 Texas Dylan Osetkowski 70 3 3.90%
14 Wright State Grant Benzinger 70 1 1.30%
2 Cincinnati Gary Clark 66 2 2.60%
4 Gonzaga Killian Tillie 64 17 22.10%
4 Arizona Deandre Ayton 56 55 71.40%
4 Wichita State Shaquille Morris 48 2 2.60%
4 Wichita State Landry Shamet 44 11 14.30%
1 Xavier Trevon Bluiett 42 2 2.60%
4 Arizona Allonzo Trier 40 16 20.80%
8 Creighton Marcus Foster 40 12 15.60%
13 Charleston Joe Chealey 26 2 2.60%
2 Purdue Isaac Haas 18 0 0.00%
1 Virginia Kyle Guy 15 5 6.50%
1 Virginia Ty Jerome 15 1 1.30%
1 Virginia Devon Hall 2 2 2.60%
11 Arizona State Tra Holder 0 2 2.60%
11 Arizona State Shannon Evans II 0 0 0.00%
16 Long Island Joel Hernandez 0 0 0.00%
16 Long Island Raiquan Clark 0 0 0.00%
9 NC State Braxton Beverly 0 1 1.30%
16 North Carolina Central Raasean Davis 0 0 0.00%
11 UCLA Aaron Holiday 0 1 1.30%
submitted by murrayyyyy to sportsbook [link] [comments]


2018.01.09 16:58 SlendyTheMan Last month, my mom told me that I need to know if I’m going away for college or not and told me if I wasn’t going away, she is kicking me out when I turn 18 (this month).

Thanks a lot for reading. Sorry for the large post… any questions, just post below!!
Hey! I don’t really post a lot of personal details on Reddit, but I really need some assistance here on healthcare, and so on.
Long story short, I was adopted by my grandmother out of the State of Florida, due to this - I am tuition exempt from a state public school. I had few in mind - FSU/UCF - but she wouldn’t pay for any of the application fees because “I need to apply to schools where there’s no application fees because I don’t wanna pay them”. When I was filling out the FAFSA, she was so stingy with giving me her taxes, I used the IRS DRT Tool thankfully (automatically pulls data with her social). She doesn’t give her tax information to the school even though we would probably qualify for reduced or even free lunch, because she doesn’t want the school to know her income… Stupid honestly, and then she complains when the bill is so expensive.
Family details: No father, no biological father [unknown], Biological Mother in Florida, and Grandmother in WV/MD.
We have a different opinion on colleges, I’m deciding to do a 2 year transfer into my local community college and then into FL or another school, as the cost for Room/Board, Car, Meals, ETC all are the same versus the community college. (7 thousand a year, before grants/pell/scholarships). She says this is the reason, but… there’s more on that she’s leading on.. (see paragraph after this one).
Onto more information with the topic, she has got 250 each month (from the state of FL) basically since I was 0. I assume this is also a reason why I am being kicked out on the 27th (the date I turn 18). She has told me that she “never wants to see me again” and so on. I have contacted a counselor at my school and they stated that when we get there, that we will do the process then.
I have discussed the situation in full detail (she’s a hoarder, she lives with herself, she doesn’t really have any friends because of her job being 12 hours a day) and they’ve come to the conclusion that she is kicking me out to get it “done and over with”. Which - fine, kick me out I can move onto better things. To be honest, I can relate to half the posts in /raisedbynarcissists because she has been one ever since her mother died in 2010.
In a positive light, I have my partner in which I have been in a relationship with for 1 year, 7 months and 9 days. It’s going well, and we assumed that she would be kicking me out. He got his own place a few months ago, as there is a slight age difference between us. (Sidenote: He has been with me through 2 times when I was kicked out by her on the SAME date, just different years...).
I couldn’t be thankful enough for my S/O. Like, if it wasn’t for him, I don’t know how I would get out of bed to go on with my day with my family situation.
Now, to the questions I have:
When I turn 18, I do not have any health insurance as I was only health insured by the state due to the cost of the premiums. How do I go about getting this?
I will move from WV into MD when I turn 18 with my S/O, but still identify as Homeless with my school so I don’t have to go through a hassle of switching - as I basically am living with a friend.
What assistance programs are there for me? Food stamps? Any small amount of money?
I am planning on getting my license when I turn 18 (Monday the 29th) at a WV DMV. I have 2 proofs of identity at the moment, Voters Registration and Bank Statement with Address, Social Security and Birth Certificate are all I have and need. After this, I will transfer the license into MD as the cost of Drivers Ed is extremely high for me. I’ve had my permit for 2 years, my mom doesn’t get the license as her cost of insurance will go up. And she blames my permit for her insurance going up recently actually…
I am planning to start applying for jobs when I turn 18. (Chipotle that is planning to open soon, etc). I will hopefully get the WV License for ID. I’m waiting until 18 as a ton of jobs require 18.
Any other information I need to know???
Oh, Location for people: Western Maryland - Cumberland, La Vale, Eastern Panhandle of WV surrounding county.
submitted by SlendyTheMan to homeless [link] [comments]


2016.06.25 23:31 IllustriousCactus Comprehensive list of meetups

Inspired by this post I searched through Meetup, FPN, and FPGeeks for meetings which took place regularly within the last 6 months. I'm a huge fan of meetups so let me know if I have missed anything.

Australia

Melbourne Pen Group
Sydney, Brisbane, Perth, and Adelaide

Canada

Alberta
Calgary Pen Club
Edmonton Fountain Pen Club
British Columbia
Vancouver Pen Club
Manitoba
U.N. Luggage Fine Writing Night
Ontario
London Pen Club
Pens & Pints
Toronto Pen Posse Brunch
The Ottawa Fountain Pen Society

Philippines

United Kingdom

London ‘The Hole’ Geek Gathering

United States

Alabama
Alabama Fountain Pen Club
Arkansas
Arizona
Southern Arizona Pen Club
California
Central California Pen Posse
Southern California Pen Collectors Club
SF Bay Pen Posse
Pen Posse
Pan Pacific Pen Club
Colorado
Colorado Pen Posse Meeting
Florida
South Florida Pen Club
Georgia
Southeast Pen Collectors' Club
North Atlanta Pen Posse
Idaho
Informal Gathering of Idaho Pen Enthusiasts
Illinois
Chicago Pen Club
The Snail Mail Revolution
Indiana
Indiana Pen Club Meet
Hoosier Pen Club (Indiana)
Kansas
Kansas City Stylographic Society
Maryland
Baltimore Fountain Pen Society
Massachusetts
Fountain Pen Fans
Boston Pen People
Michigan
Ann Arbor Pen Posse
Michigan Pen Club
Minnesota
Pen Enthusiasts Northern Society
Missouri
St. Louis Area Pen Users
New York
Big Apple Pen Club
Long Island Pen Club
West NY Pen Club
Ithica Letter Writers and Penpals
Nevada
Reno Pen Club
New Mexico
New Mexico Pen Collector’s Club
North Carolina
Triangle Pen Club
Ohio
Porkopolis Penners
Oregon
Portland Pen Club
Pennsylvania
Steel City Nibs/Pittsburgh Pen Club
Central Penn Pens
Tennessee
Memphis Pen Club Meetup
Texas
Dallas Pen Club
Lone Star Pen Club
Washington
Seattle Pen Club
Washington D.C.
DC Metro Pen Club
Wisconsin
New Pen Club Placeholder
submitted by IllustriousCactus to fountainpens [link] [comments]


2015.10.02 02:00 10Cb Filer Files 10 1 15

Display problems? View this newsletter in your browser.

FF40 September 30, 2015
In special reports, this week’s files cover: Speaker Says UFOs Data from Unimpeachable Sources, Quote by Steve Jobs, Apple CEO, Snowden Says Aliens Could be Trying to get in Touch Right Now, Mars Stonehenge Structures and Water, and Moon’s Titanium.
UFO Sightings were reported in California, Connecticut, Florida, Illinois, Indiana, Maryland, Massachusetts, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, Ohio, Pennsylvania, Tennessee, and Texas
Sightings of UFOs were also reported in Australia, Canada, Ecuador, Ireland, Mexico, South Africa, and England and Scotland in the United Kingdom.
The Filer Research Institute feels the scientific study of UFOs is for the benefit of humankind and is an important endeavor. The weekly intelligence report provides you with information on the latest sightings and UFO news that you need to understand the world situation. The purpose of these files is to report the UFO eyewitness and photo/video evidence that occurs on a daily basis around the world and in space. These Files assume that extraterrestrial intelligent life not only exists, but my hypothesis is that the over a thousand UFOs reported each month represent technologically advanced spacecraft conducting surveillance of Earth. I personally became interested in UFOs when London Control ordered me to intercept one over England while flying for the US Air Force and Prince Phillip told me of his personal interest in UFOs. The US Air Force investigated UFOs for more than twenty years under Project Blue Book; and I continue this advanced research. I believe the God of the universe has spread life throughout the cosmos and UFO’s are visiting us in ever-increasing numbers.
Filer
George A. Filer III New Jersey State Director
MUFON Eastern Region Director
Www.nationalUFOcenter.com. Now receiving 3 million hits a month Special Reports Speaker Says UFOs Data from Unimpeachable Sources
SpeakerJohnMxCormach
John W. McCormack Speaker of the House of Representatives of the United States stated,
“Some three years ago, (1957), as chairman of the House Select Committee on Outer Space out of which came the recently established NASA, my Select Committee held executive sessions on the matter of ‘Unidentified Flying Objects.’ We could not get much information at that time, although it was pretty well established by some in our minds that there were some objects flying around in space that were unexplainable.”
Congressman John W. McCormack, Former Speaker of the House. Letter to Major Donald Keyhoe November 4, 1960
“I feel that the Air Force has not been giving out all the available information on the Unidentified Flying Objects. You cannot disregard so many unimpeachable sources.”
Congressman John W. McCormack January 1965 Quote by Steve Jobs, Apple CEO
SteveJobs
“Here’s to the crazy ones, the misfits, the rebels, the troublemakers, the round pegs in the square holes… the ones who see things differently — they’re not fond of rules…
You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify or vilify them, but the only thing you can’t do is ignore them because they change things… they push the human race forward, and while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius, because the ones who are crazy enough to think that they can change the world, are the ones who do.”
Note: Most UFOlogists spend their lives trying to push the human race forward to realize we are not alone in the universe. Snowden Says Aliens Could be Trying to get in Touch Right Now
Snowden
Finally, we hear Edward Snowden talking about UFOs and aliens; it is what we have all been waiting for. I know aliens encrypt their messages, like the one being sent from comet 67P for the last 20 years.
Edward Snowden, who defected to Russia, used to be a contractor for the National Security Agency (NSA) before he became famous for leaking some of its practices, worries that we might currently be deaf to alien communication. He expressed this view during a fascinating chat with Neil DeGrasse Tyson on his Star Talk podcast. This was courtesy of a robot-controlled video screen from his Moscow location — a communication system that DeGrasse Tyson described as “an iPad on wheels.” It was wide-ranging chat between two nerds. Sample from Snowden: He once read a metallurgy textbook.
They got onto the subject of encryption and how it might affect communicating with otherworldly beings. “If you look at encrypted communication, if they are properly encrypted, there is no real way to tell that they are encrypted,” Snowden said. “You can’t distinguish a properly encrypted communication from random behavior.” In essence, he believes that if aliens are smart, they will already be encrypting everything. He said that communication remains unencrypted “until society realizes how dangerous that is.” Are we there yet? Yes, we are. The consequence for potential human-alien chats is this: “If you have an alien civilization trying to listen for other civilizations, or our civilization trying to listen for aliens, there’s only one small period in the development of their society when all of their communications will be sent via the most primitive and most unprotected means.” If something were perfectly encrypted, you would not even know its communication, so not even a security agency would think to intercept it. It would come across as mere noise. Ergo, aliens might be trying to communicate, but their natural communication systems are completely encrypted. So we don’t even notice that this is an alien writing, “Hey, what’s it like being a Tampa Bay Buccanneers’ fan? Isn’t it totally depressing?” Some might wonder whether this is still a touch human-centric. We assume that other beings might have at least some of the same impulses as us that they would want, for example, to connect, share and even have their own Instagram accounts. However, they could be beings with a completely different chemistry, a completely different sense of being, a completely different definition of the thing we call “life.” (More at source). Edward Snowden Source:
Note: Is Snowden suggesting we intercept alien communication? Scientists assume aliens may use a completely different communication system not based on radio waves. To reach the vast distances involved they likely use a much faster method. Scott C. Waring UFO Sightings Daily Mars Stonehenge Structures and Water
MarsStonhenge
Date of sighting: Sept 2015 Location of sighting: Marshenge found by Mister Enigma of YouTube. Its two circles of rocks and one square in its center. This is something remarkable found not the first time I have seen this. I have seen it many times in dozens of photos of Mars, always a circle. Stonehenge rock like structures are sometimes with big rocks, sometimes smaller, but always on small hills only. UFO Sightings Daily
HI-RES Image
MarsBuildingTintedWindows
Hundreds of structures are being found Mars has Liquid flowing Water MarsWater
The Red Planet is wet, scientists announced today. New evidence from NASA’s Mars Reconnaissance Orbiter (MRO) confirms that suspicious dark streaks on Mars that appear and disappear with the seasons are created by flowing liquid water. The streaks are made by salty water that runs down steep hills during warm months, when temperatures are above –23 degrees Celsius, and freezes during colder times.
The intriguing streaks, called recurring slope lineae, were first spotted in 2010 in images from the MRO’s HiRISE (High-Resolution Imaging Science Experiment) camera. Scientists have long suspected that the streaks marked the location of liquid water. Now researchers have found the chemical signatures of hydrated minerals on these slopes, confirming that explanation. The new evidence also comes from the MRO via CRISM, its Compact Reconnaissance Imaging Spectrometer for Mars, which separates light into its constituent wavelengths to reveal the chemicals present on the Martian surface. The instrument saw the signatures of magnesium perchlorate, magnesium chlorate and sodium perchlorate—all hydrated salts that require water to form and also contain it. The chemicals appear in the summer, when the dark streaks are visible, and disappear along with the features when temperatures drop. “This is the best evidence of liquid water on Mars in the present day,” says Georgia Institute of Technology scientist James Wray, co-author of a paper reporting the data published today in Nature Geoscience. “The fact that these chemicals are sitting on these flows and concentrated there and have water means there’s really no way that water wasn’t involved.” (Scientific American is part of Nature Publishing Group.)
Related: Swiss Cheese and Dust Devils: 7 High-Resolution Shots of Surface Activity on Mars [Slide Show]
The findings provide yet more evidence that Mars is not a dry and barren landscape but rather a dynamic place that changes with the seasons—and, just maybe, holds the ingredients necessary for life. Primary among those ingredients, of course, is water, which makes the recurring slope lineae a prime spot to search for signs of extraterrestrial microbes. Scientific American NOTE FILER’S FILES #09-2002 February 27, 2002, I wrote: THERE IS LIFE ON MARS
Based on my analysis of recent images coming from Mars, and intelligence information there is strong evidence that intelligent life once existed on Mars and may continue. As a former Air Force Intelligence officer, my analysis is based on my interpretation of the extraordinary evidence. Scientists often state where there is water there is life. I feel where there is Martian water, heat and geometric structures there is life. University of Arizona scientists announced that photos taken by the Mars Global Surveyor (MGS) show evidence of recent catastrophic floods.
MarsWaterRiver
A team of researchers studying photographs of Mars has found teardrop features that they say were sculpted by flowing water within the last ten million years. Infrared and gamma ray images indicate there are large reservoirs of water, just below the surface of Mars. My photographic analysis indicates that all over the planet there are what appears as ancient structures and anomalies such as forts, faces, pyramids, walls, and tunnels. These anomalies are not natural geological formations, but in my opinion represent ancient cities or religious centers. We could ignore one or two anomalies, but there are hundreds. We can speculate, that the Martian climate was making catastrophic changes, the atmosphere was rapidly deteriorating possibly due to meteorite bombardment or changes in the sun. These atmospheric changes probably caused the Martians to seek shelter underground and possibly on their Moon Phobos to preserve their civilization. They may have left both a face and pyramids on the surface as a signal to others who would eventually visit Mars. The Germans in World War II due to allied bombing also rapidly moved underground and developed manufacturing and living quarters in a relatively short time. Virtually all ME-262 aircraft were manufactured underground. There was also an enormous underground complex of Mittel-werkes factories in the Harz Mountains. It was formed with two broad tunnels, with twelve miles of underground installations that manufactured the V-2 rocket, the V-1 Flying Bomb and several types of anti-aircraft rockets. These facilities are similar to the underground facilities on Mars.
While in college I met President Eisenhower and was told that the Mars’ Moon Phobos was most likely an artificial satellite launched long ago by an advanced Martian race. Jeff Rense has an article that confirms this speculation. Dr. S. Fred Singer, special advisor to President Eisenhower on Space Developments in his published opinion backed a claim first made by the Soviet astrophysicist I. S. Shklovsky.
PhobusMonolith
The Russian scientist’s announcement that Phobos was a hollow artificial moon suggests possibly used as a base. A Monolith on Phobos is shown here. Moon’s Titanium
Bill Sells Comments: “I have heard that Titanium is one of the Moon’s primary elements and this would make mining a strong probability by any species. Also, we know that the Moon is in fact hollow; when explosions have been induced on the surface; it rings like a Bell. Probably due to mining activity done previously by someone. The reports of other spacecraft on the surface after landing by astronauts indicate that they will defend their territory.
Apollo 13 damage might have been an EMP Burst to disable their
FraMauroMoon
craft so that Fra Mauro Highlands were not explored. We have to assume that with the curtailment of lunar missions an agreement was struck to stop our activities on the Moon. With the Luna Base on far side, we are not welcome there. It provides a possible military base as proposed by Project Horizon in 1960s. I do not see correlation unless as McArthur stated at West Point that we are facing a hostile threat from them. I feel that our leaders are buying time for a defense system to be set up on a planetary basis. The STS-48 footage NASA showed a UFO being fired upon by I believe a particle beam weapon at Alice Springs Australia. We have a major complex at this site. However, they avoided being hit. Thunderstorms on Earth offer a perfect clutter on radar for them to slip into our atmosphere after lightning strikes. They apparently produce a huge negatively charged magnetic field around their craft and insulate the hull with bismuth every 10 microns. There is real science involved here with magnesium-orthosilicate and bismuth combined in the hull structure. Unfortunately, they are technologically more advanced; but we are making strides to catch-up now.” Sightings of UFOs in the United States California Strange Lights
CASanJose24Sep15
San Jose — I didn’t only see one craft, I saw four on September 24, 2015. I am excited to show my videos and pictures. The first pictures only show beams and those came from the first craft of the night. I followed it, lost it and found it above the park. More video clips to follow as well as pictures. On the videos, the object will appear on the bottom of the screen and it will appear, disappear then reappear again.
Note: The witness sent photos taken on four different dates. One of the photos taken on September 24, 2015 is shown. Thanks to William Puckett, Director UFOsnw
CalifV27Sep15Carson
Carson – A bizarre V-shaped cloud was seen during, Lunar Eclipse and orange moon tonight on September 27, 2015.
I have never seen anything like that before, so I took pictures. Others and I have witnessed the formation of clouds, could not explain how it was formed.
It was a strange cloud formation, especially how it kept its perfect form for about 35 minutes. There were other clouds in the sky, but none had this shape.
Thanks to MUFON CMS Connecticut Spheres on Moon
MoonRes27Sep15
The photographer was taking pictures of the blood moon event around 8 pm on September 27, 2015. When I reviewed my pictures, I was amazed to see there were three objects over the moon.
The lights do not appear to be light reflections off the lens. The objects are likely moving. However, could not see them with naked eye and only the camera was able to spot them. Thanks to MUFON CMS Florida Strange Lights
FLveroBeach23Sep15
Vero Beach – Two glowing objects appeared 60 miles south of the Cape Canaveral over the Atlantic Ocean and hovered for four minutes on September 24, 2015. They disappeared after the filming stopped. When my wife Kathy observed the lights, she then grabbed her HD camera and filmed.
Both yesterday and today after the sighting, military helicopters were seen several times going up and down the beach area. They even flew behind our house traveling the coastline. They are rare, particularly two days in a row. While the two diamond shaped craft appeared above. Thanks to MUFON CMS Illinois Lights
ILhillsise29Sep15
Hillside –My girlfriend was driving on Highway 290 passing the Mannheim Road exit on September 29, 2015. The super blood moon was nearing full eclipse at 9:09 pm. She opened the sunroof on the car to take two pictures.
When she picked her other up and returned home, she showed me them. I immediately noticed a horseshoe like object in both pictures. The object is uncharacteristic of any plane that I have ever seen.
The horseshoe is made up of eight spheres that look yellow. The sighing is close to O’Hare International Airport. Thanks to MUFON CMS Indiana Lights
INmuncie23Sep15
Muncie — I was jogging in the pitch-black morning of September 23, 2015. I am very familiar with stars and Venus seen to the east. I noticed the object on one of my running laps. It was extremely bright, much brighter than Venus the brightest thing in the sky that was also visible. The object moved slowly from north to south and disappeared behind the tree line. I took photos with my iPhone and the light dimmed towards the end of the sighting. I noticed blinking lights similar to an airplane, but I have never seen an airplane so bright. There is small airport to the south with frequent flights. We saw three lights and a possible dome shape. The object appeared simply as a bright orange ball during these pictures. The last photo was taken as the small rectangle dimmed at the end of sighting. The structure on left is my neighbor’s house. Thanks to MUFON CMS Maryland Lights
MDcumberland19Sep15
Cumberland — The two videos that I have submitted freak me out especially when I put them in slow motion. Those were taken on September 16, 2015. There were other nights as well that I was out taking pictures and taking videos. When I reviewed some of my other videos, I kept hitting the start and stop button and would take a screen shot from my phone to see the detail. I am totally freaked out and the video of the red lights flashing are creepy. When put in slow motion, the very beginning looks like a giant eye blinking. There are clicking sounds, squeaking doors, and other sounds. I’ve had many sightings throughout my 53 years of life. Recently after seeing the two videos that I have submitted and not remember taking them, makes me even more of a believer. Thanks to MUFON CMS Massachusetts Orb
MAlowell29Sep15
Lowell — Witnessed blue orb or craft changing direction within 100 feet left to right at very rapid rate on September 29, 2015.
It happened during the eclipse in the opposite direction of viewing angle, approximately to the NW of the bend in the Merrimack River.
Directional changes were observed by eye but the camera didn’t catch them too well. Thanks to MUFON CMS New Jersey Cylinder
NJSaddle Brook 23Sep15
Saddle Brook — I am a high school yearbook photographer. I was photographing a girl’s varsity soccer game on September 23, 2015, at high school. During down time I was looking up at the sky and noticed a contrail of a high altitude jet, but could not see the jet itself. I zoomed out with my 300mm lens to take a picture of the jet. I put the camera in manual focus mode. This is something you have to do when photographing highflying objects. I took a couple pictures. I zoomed in on my Nikon D7100 LCD display to look at the jet when I noticed there was something in front of it. I could not see it with my eyes. I needed the 300mm lens trying to see it. I looked at the display on my Nikon, zoom to try to determine what the object was. I was baffled. I pointed my camera skyward and could not find the object again. I looked like a U2 with squared wings. I have been a sports photographer for 8 years. I am very camera savvy. I sat at the western edge to have the sun at my back for the photos. I don’t know if anyone else saw it, it was very high and impossible to see with the unaided eye. I was freaked out when I saw what I had captured on my camera. Thanks to MUFON CMS New Mexico Rectangle
NMtaos29Sep15
Taos — My friend Scotty sent these pictures to me and wanted me to share them with everyone. He and six other friends were on their way to his land to watch the eclipse and saw a black grid like porthole opening up with a dark beam coming out. It was lighting up the ground red, and moving toward them. Then some clouds appeared which they believe cigar craft were hiding in. The “object” got within a couple of miles of them before disappearing. He thinks it grew to at least a mile wide. Thanks to MUFON CMS New York Flyer
NYrobot
New York City — I was a guest at my parent’s house at a backyard picnic in an outer borough at 7:11 pm on August 22, 2015. My niece noticed the object while playing she told us as my father, mother, wife, nieces and my three children watched it glide over us. It was low, silent, and reflected light or had some lights on it. At first, I thought it was a drone although it doesn’t look like one. The object seems to have appendages. My friend joked about it looking like a man in a jet pack. It seemed to have blinking lights or sunlight reflecting off it. My father grabbed his Nikon camera and took a few photos. It acted like a balloon floating by since it never slowed down, and flew straight southbound directly above the interstate. My father showed me the zoomed image that is unidentifiable to me as a drone. It passed over the neighbor’s houses down the street. Several minutes later, I saw 20-30 large white weather like balloons float past at a higher altitude and spread apart. Thanks to MUFON CMS; Ohio Light
Toledo — I was going out in my back yard to let my dog out when I a noticed a glowing orange object in the sky on September 18, 2015. It seemed to be changing shape in the sky, I called my wife to come observe the object, which she came out and observed the object as I did. The object had no set pattern it jumped randomly to different locations across the sky. It was a cloud-covered night, which made this object, stick out even more. The duration of the sighting was approximately 1 minute 15 seconds. We watched it until we lost the line of sight in a grouping of large trees by my house. I adjusted position to regain sight of object but was not in the sky that my wife or I could see. I took three pictures of the object on my iPhone 6 and logged the position of the object with the compass on the same iPhone. Lightning started approximately 5 minutes after we lost sight of the object. Pennsylvania Black Craft
PAoilCity1Sep15
Oil City — Around 8:30 PM on September 1, 2015, my significant other and I witnessed a craft hovering over the center of our city. We live at the top of a hill in our city. We are both in our early twenties and work most of the day, so we spend most of our time on the back porch at night. That night we witnessed what I can only describe as a black “Twinkie” with reddish-purple lights on both ends, and a very bright blue light at the bottom. The lights on the side would change from bright red to a very deep maroon or purple. There was no reflection on the craft from these lights. There were halos of the same colored light around the craft. We watched it for at least a minute, as it was motionless but began to move erratically with zigzags. We watched it move fast for about 45 seconds, until it came to a halt, then moved slightly upward and disappeared. We have witnessed this kind of craft before on July 22, 2015, for about 10 minutes at 10:45 PM, and once again on July 15, around midnight, for less than 5 minutes. ((NUFORC Note: We spoke via telephone with the witness, and she sounded to us to be quite eloquent and serious-minded. We suspect that she is a very good witness. PD)) Thanks to Peter Davenport Director UFO Center Tennessee Red cloud
TNlowCloudMt. Juliet25Dep15
Mt. Juliet/ Lebanon — My fiancé and I were driving on Interstate 40-E in between the cities on September 25, 2015. We noticed about 1/2 a mile ahead of us that one particular section of clouds was glowing a bright red color. The weather conditions were rainy, thick cloud cover, no visible moon or stars. We briefly went through the options of what could be making the cloud glow that color. The cloud was directly above the middle of the interstate, so we ruled out the option of a light on the ground causing the glow. The sun and moon were not up. I snapped a few pictures, we then drove directly underneath the cloud, and still it glowed a very unnatural red. The cloud hung low, seemingly lower than the clouds surrounding it. We noticed visible red lights in the sky above the cloud that may have been a hovering craft. Thanks to MUFON CMS Texas UFO
TexasSequin23Sep15
Seguin — Eyewitness states, “I was outside in the morning having a cup of coffee on September 23, 2015, when I noticed a star to the East, which is not unusual. The star was bright and I looked away and when I looked back it was a long line up and down and I thought that’s strange it is just a weird cloud. Then it changed back to a circle and that is when things got strange. The circle got bigger and then it flattened out the disk shape I have in the pictures. I went and got my phone because I thought nobody is going to believe me. Especially my husband.” Note: if you want to see a UFO, watch a few sunsets. The sun is at a 90-degree angle to the UFO and the cloak on the UFO will bend the light on one side of the UFO more than the 180 degrees needed, which it cannot do, thus it becomes visible. Thanks to MUFON CMS Worldwide UFO Reports Australia Disc
UFORoswellStingRay
Kings Langley — About 6 am on 12 July 2015, I was traveling east along Joseph Banks Drive. I am a police officer for a violent station and I have seen and dealt with things no ordinary person would wish upon anyone. As I came over the hill, I saw a disc shape drop out of the sky flashing red, green, blue and white lights. I sat there in shock as it was hovering silently. I pulled over and the body of a dark grey stingray slowly flew over my car. I spun my car around to follow it and could only see an oval with two white lights flashing. It was going so fast then it shot horizontal into the sky. I believe it is extra terrestrial and is not human. I wasn’t scared just frozen. When it knew I was following, it zipped up into the low grey clouds. Craft is a rendering by Bill McDonald. Thanks to Natalie and UFOINFO.com Canada Huge UFO
CAnShishis
Whitby, Ontario — Paul Shishis writes, “On September 21, 2015, while on morning break an object caught my eye at 10:11 am. Coming from the east, I noticed a dark thing quite high moving about in a zigzag pattern. Then as it passed our roof, it flew towards me in a straighter path.
Its movements were indeed strange, so I started to snap pictures. I took a dozen photos hoping to get better detail. It headed west towards Toronto, Ontario, Thanks to Paul Shishis
CanOttawa21Sep15
Ottawa — This UFO was noticed when it was hovering above Ottawa on September 21, 2015. The object does not move for a few minutes, then suddenly shuts its lights off and flies over the buildings.
As it moves, its lights turn back on, but are now green. Very cool that we can see its movement.
It comes close to the ground, but then disappears again. Scott C. Waring UFO Sightings Daily Ecuador Disc
ECquito15sep15
Quito — Photo taken during grass fires on Sept 15, 2015. Object was hovering over area that is burning and creating a lot of smoke.
Thanks to MUFON CMS Ireland Disc
IrellandPlaneUFOGalawayJul14
Galway — Apparently, a spherical object emerged from the contrail of a plane on June 15, 2014.
Note: This may be another aircraft, but usually planes will stay out f contrail that may have air turbulence. Thanks to MUFON CMS Italy Object
ItalySergemi9Jul15
Salsomaggiore Terme — I was in the car with my husband and my son hen we stopped to photograph the scene and more precisely a collapsed tower. The picture was taken with a Samsung S5. When we enlarged the photo, we noticed a dark object that is to the right of the tower. Immediately we thought it was a bird, but making the proportions would be a bit ‘too big. Thanks to MUFON CMS Mexico Orb
MXGuadalajara19Sep15
Guadalajara — This is an interesting UFO caught by Alberto Ignacio Alejo Ibarra of YouTube on September 19, 2015. It is really far away so that is why it’s bouncing around, due to the fact, it is more difficult to hold the camera steady. Sadly it’s to far away to confirm its shape. Eyewitness states: “It was flying over Guadalajara at 5:30 PM, and I filmed for 1:04 minutes at full speed”. Scott C. Waring UFO Sightings Daily South Africa UFO Deleted From Google
SouthAfricaape2012
Cape — Scott Waring reports “Last year I reported about the UFO on Google Earth map that was over the Cape of Good Hope light house and I said that you need to check it out before Google deletes it…well its gone. The photo bubbles that allow you to see a 360 view of the area has vanished so this post is in memory of the sighting and to show the world that Google is part of the cover-up of UFO information. Like you didn’t know that all ready right?” Back in July of 2011, Scott made a video to confirm another person’s sighting of this UFO. Click here: SCW UK/England Ghost
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2015.05.04 04:29 NARedding Let's talk historic preservation, Maryland!

Redditors:
Preservation Maryland (www.presmd.org), the statewide historic preservation non-profit is kicking off National Preservation Month with a series of town halls across the state.
We'll start in Rockville on Tuesday, May 5th from 6:30-7:30PM at the Historic Red Brick Courthouse. [29 Courthouse Square, The Grand Courtroom, Rockville MD 20850. Co-sponsored by Peerless Rockville, Inc.]
The other dates/times include: Baltimore: 5/12 Cambridge: 5/14 Annapolis: 5/19 Cumberland: 5/26
Preservation Maryland was busy in Annapolis during the recent session making the case for preservation and we have a lot of important news to report. We also need to update local preservationists on important changes we’re making as an organization to provide better support for Maryland’s preservation movement.
When you join us, here’s what you can expect to:
All the other dates and Town Halls: http://goo.gl/pH704r
So, how many redditors can we expect?
submitted by NARedding to maryland [link] [comments]


2014.07.09 16:04 BahnCalamari Updated estimated end times for the power outage.

Update July 10th at 1:40 PM.
The dates have been updated on their site, it looks like these estimations were way optimistic. Most areas are now looking at the 15th or 16th before getting looked at.
ಠ_ಠ
Original post
From http://www.nbpower.com/html/en/outages/StormCentre2.html
The majority of customers in the following areas can expect to have power restored on the following date:
Note: The exceptions would be customers affected by damage to their electrical entrance, extended damages to NBPower facilities and difficult access areas.
By Wednesday, 11 p.m.:
Fredericton (Skyline Acres)​ Bayswater Damascus​ Gagetown Garnett Settlement Grand Bay-Westfield Lakeside Long Reach Oak Point (Kings County)​ Passekeag​ Quispamsis​ Rothesay Saint John​ Summerville Upper Golden Grove​ Upperton Bocabec Barony Bear Island​ Beechwood Benton​ Clarkville Fielding Grafton​ Hartfield Juniper Limestone Lower Brighton Lower Woodstock Maxwell Peel Pembroke Red Bridge Skiff Lake​ Somerville Tracey Mills Upper Caverhill Victoria Corner​ Wicklow Woodstock 
By Thursday at 11 p.m.
Fredericton (Nashwaaksis) Fredericton (Marysville) Fredericton (Deerwood) Fredericton (Nashwaaksis/Brookside Drive) Fredericton (downtown) Fredericton (Devon) Fredericton (Southwood Park area) Fredericton (hill area) Beaver Dam​ Burtts Corner Charters Settlement Cross Creek Cumberland Bay Douglas Durham Bridge​ Estey’s Bridge Evans Road Hanwell Island View Jewetts Mills​ Kingsley Lincoln​ Maugerville​ McNamee​ Minto​ Nashwaak Village​ Nasonworth New Maryland​ Rusagonis​ Tracyville​ Waasis​ Zealand​ Bayside Bonny River​ Breadalbane Harvey (York County) Heathland Lawrence Station Mascarene McAdam Musquash New River Beach Pennfield Pocologan Rollingdam Tower Hill​ Wilsons Beach​ Yoho Upper Woodstock 
submitted by BahnCalamari to fredericton [link] [comments]


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