#MACHINE HERALD

[prabhatjairam]

The Impact of Artificial Intelligence on Digital Marketing

In this digital epoch, AI is not just a technological marvel; it's a dynamic companion that learns, adapts, and anticipates. As we traverse the realms of e-commerce, social media, and virtual landscapes, AI algorithms work tirelessly in the background, deciphering patterns, predicting preferences, and enhancing our digital encounters. AI is not a mere tool; it's an architect of experiences, a curator of connections, and a guide through the labyrinth of data. It's a revolution that transcends industries, touching everything from customer service and marketing strategies to healthcare and financial systems.

From predictive analytics that anticipate consumer desires to chatbots engaging in nuanced conversations, the impact of AI on digital marketing is akin to a seismic shift, challenging conventional practices and beckoning marketers to embrace a new era of strategic innovation. Join us as we embark on a voyage into the dynamic realms where algorithms meet creativity, and the future of digital marketing takes shape under the profound influence of Artificial Intelligence.

The Rise of the Machines: Powering Personalization and Precision

AI's entrance onto the digital marketing stage has heralded a revolution in personalization. Imagine a world where your digital interactions feel tailor-made just for you – from product recommendations that seem to read your mind to advertisements that understand your preferences better than your closest confidant. AI algorithms analyze vast amounts of data, deciphering patterns and behaviors with a finesse that ushers in a new era of precision targeting.

Take, for instance, the curated playlists on your favorite music streaming service or the movie recommendations on your streaming platform. Behind the scenes, AI algorithms are learning your tastes, predicting what you'd like, and crafting an experience uniquely yours. In the realm of digital marketing, this translates into hyper-personalized content, ads, and offers that resonate on an individual level, fostering a sense of connection between brands and consumers.

“Harness the educational prowess of Study24hr.com, a leading online learning platform, to delve into AI courses that demystify algorithms and the practical applications reshaping industries. Elevate your expertise and stay ahead in the evolving realm of digital marketing by enrolling in Study24hr.com's comprehensive courses – a gateway to mastering the tools that redefine the future of tech-driven marketing strategies. Embrace the AI revolution with Study24hr.com, and let knowledge be your catalyst for success in the digital age.”

The Chatbot Chronicles: AI-Powered Conversations that Convert

A chat window pops up on a website, and within seconds, you're engaged in a conversation that feels as natural as chatting with a friend. This isn't magic; it's the rise of AI-powered chatbots. These virtual assistants are reshaping customer interactions, providing instant responses, and guiding users through their journey. From answering queries to recommending products, chatbots offer a seamless and efficient customer experience.

The impact of AI extends beyond mere conversations – it's about understanding user intent. Through Natural Language Processing (NLP), chatbots decipher the nuances of human language, enabling them to comprehend context, sentiment, and even detect sarcasm. As a result, brands can offer personalized assistance, address concerns, and guide users toward conversion in a conversational, human-like manner.

The Finale: AI and the Future of Marketing Mastery

As we conclude our exploration into the impact of AI on digital marketing, it's evident that we stand at the threshold of a new era. AI is not just a tool; it's a transformative force reshaping the entire landscape of digital engagement. The days of generic marketing messages are fading, making way for a future where every interaction is an opportunity to understand, connect, and convert.

In this brave new world, the fusion of human creativity with AI-powered insights unleashes unparalleled marketing mastery. The algorithms may guide, but it's the human touch that crafts the narrative, tells the story, and builds the brand. As we navigate the evolving realms of AI and digital marketing, the fusion of these forces promises not just efficiency but a symphony of experiences that captivate, resonate, and leave an indelible mark on the digital canvas.

In the grand finale of this AI-powered saga, marketers find themselves at the helm of a ship navigating uncharted waters. The future belongs to those who embrace machines' magic while keeping humanity's heart and soul at the forefront. As the curtain falls on this chapter, the impact of AI on digital marketing echoes like a resounding crescendo, promising a future where the intersection of technology and creativity paints a canvas of endless possibilities.

[morganaseren]

OC Introduction

Tagged by: @illusivesoul Thanks! Sorry this took so long!

Tagging: @this-is-something-idk-what, @noeldressari, @alessandramortt, @theherowarden, @jellydishes​ As per usual, I can never figure out who has or hasn’t been tagged by this. No pressure if you don’t want to participate though! Below is the template you can use.

My answers will be under the Read More.

---

Fandom:

Role:

BASICS

Full Name:

Nickname(s):

Pronouns:

Sexuality:

Occupation and Titles:

Birthday & Age:

Physical description:

Clothing style:

BACKGROUND

COMBAT & SKILLS

Preferred fighting style:

Special skills:

RELATIONSHIPS

Family:

Love interest:

Best friends:

PERSONALITY

Positive traits:

Negative traits:

Likes:

Dislikes:

Fears:

Guilty Pleasure:

Hobbies:

Fandom: Dragon Age

Role: Inquisitor

BASICS

Full Name: Niamh (pronounced “Neev”) Cousland

Nickname(s): Neevy (from Sera), Brat (from Leliana lolol), Storm Pup (mostly from her late mother’s side of the family)

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Lesbian

Occupation and Titles: Niamh is the leader of the Inquisition forces and is also hailed as the Herald of Andraste. Although all her rights to the Cousland estate along with any titles associated with it were forfeited the moment her magic manifested, her ties to her family name are still recognized and vice versa--perhaps especially so now with her being Inquisitor. Thus, in accordance to an older tradition from her late mother’s family, she is also titled the Storm Wolf of Highever per her brother Teyrn Fergus Cousland.

Birthday & Age: Niamh was born on the 3rd of Cloudreach in 9:08 Dragon, so she’s 33 as of Inquisition and 36 as of the Trespasser DLC.

Physical description: She’s a woman of middling height (5′6″ or 168cm). Niamh’s hair is pitch-black, which settles asymmetrically around her face with a longer fringe covering one of her eyes--a pale, misty-grey hue. Physique-wise, she’s full of wiry muscle, especially along her arms, shoulders, and back--testament to years of heavy staffwork.

Clothing style: This is more dependent on what setting she finds herself in. Around Skyhold or in more official circumstances, she tends to garb herself in formal wear such as the one seen below.

When she’s out and about on missions, her attire consists more of cloth and leather as depicted in the screenshot above. As a native Fereldan, she has a tendency to favor fur in her overall field outfit, which is evident in the black Great Bear fur seen along the spaulders atop her shoulders. Then, as an occasional artist, her sketchbook is ever present, constantly hanging from her belt as she draws flora, fauna, and anything of interest in her travels to properly document later. Littered amongst the sketches are also occasional plans for whatever project she’d like to work on back at Skyhold.

Art and crafting is ever her way of relaxing.

Despite being an artist, her color palette in terms of clothing remains relatively simple even if the cut of them are always finely-tailored. She favors darker colors overall with white and varying shades of grey. Occasionally, a splash of color is thrown in every now and again for visual emphasis.

For instance, the red scarf you see on her is a gift from Bethany Hawke. ;3

BACKGROUND

Niamh is the youngest child of Bryce and Eleanor Cousland.

She was born beneath a violent storm that only settled as her newborn cries filled the world--a telltale sign perhaps of the destiny that would later be laid out before her.

She was taken away to Ferelden’s Circle when her magic manifested at the age of four. Niamh was the youngest to enter Kinloch Hold that year, and she was inconsolable for several months as she struggled to adapt to her new surroundings and the many strangers that were meant to be her new family of sorts.

Of all the mages present, she was closest to Jowan since he was only a year or two older than her, and the then young boy was responsible for drawing her out of her sullen shell--enough to where she could finally be comfortable with interacting with others after months of frightened silence. The two children did everything together and were otherwise inseparable. Unfortunately, their relationship would later become strained as they entered into adolescence, especially as Niamh grew into her magical abilities and surpassed him entirely in power, astounding the likes of First Enchanter Irving and Wynne--both whom became her respective mentors--with her command over the elements. 

Niamh was able to successfully undertake the Harrowing at the age of seventeen, earning the right to be recognized as a full-fledged mage. She was never designated an Enchanter throughout her time in the Circle, for she had no personal apprentices of her own. The few new ones to arrive at the Tower were assigned to those who had passed the Harrowing before her, but she was content to help them and the Senior Enchanters however she could. Her kindness, patience, and calm diligence earned her easy friendships.

...or at least she thought so until some of her colleagues turned on her with Uldred’s coup following the onset of the Blight.

Caught between blood mages and Templars who believed she had a hand in Uldred’s machinations, she likely would have succumbed to either party eventually had her sister Saoirse--now a Grey Warden--not arrived to help cleanse the Tower of abominations and save First Enchanter Irving and the remaining Senior Enchanters.

For her efforts in saving them, Niamh was allowed to accompany her sister on her travels across Ferelden along with Wynne. She formed a fast friendship with Leliana early on, and it eventually led to heavy infatuation on Niamh’s end, but it stuttered to an abrupt halt when she realized her sister was also in love with the bard. Believing that she had nothing of worth to offer to Leliana as a mere mage, Niamh buried her feelings for the other woman, watching from afar as she fell for Saoirse.

Saoirse was as bold as all great heroes could ever hope to be, and so she was well-suited for Leliana, but it was Niamh who tempered much of her sister’s impulsiveness, especially when it came to matters of diplomacy.

---

"Can't we just--"

"No." Niamh just kept her gaze forward as they walked out of the Deep Roads, refusing to look at her sister.

"But it's a good idea!" Saoirse insisted earnestly.

"Saoirse, in no world where you throw the crown at the two candidates for Orzammar's throne and expect the least most concussed to be King can ever be considered a 'good idea,'" Niamh deadpanned.

---

Yet, for all her brilliance with tactics and matters of negotiation, Niamh was unable to convince Saoirse to allow Morrigan to use her Dark Ritual despite knowing it would have saved any of the Grey Wardens from being sacrificed. Worse, her sister made her promise not to tell Leliana of Saoirse’s own plans to slay the Archdemon in the final battle.

As expected, it resulted in Saoirse’s death.

Racked with guilt over never telling Leliana the truth of the matter, and believing she had been left the last of the Couslands--a mage that Thedas would have never recognized--she disappeared following the end of the Fifth Blight. Niamh placed herself in a self-imposed exile abroad for over a decade until news of a Conclave by Divine Justinia was brought to her attention. The Divine had hoped to bring together both sides of the Mage-Templar War and negotiate its end.

For Niamh, this led her to return to Ferelden. It was her last hope to see if the world could finally begin to change for the better.

Instead, she was given a far different destiny...

COMBAT & SKILLS

Preferred fighting style: She prefers keeping herself at range on the battlefield, for it allows her to better survey it. She sees everything like an intricate chess game, and she always tries to place herself and her team at the best advantage to overcome their opponents.

As a mage, Niamh incorporates a lot of staffwork in her fighting, especially when it comes to casting magic. However, when she was living abroad, she had to learn to adjust her fighting style altogether so that she would never be suspected of being a mage. As such, she taught herself to fight with spears and polearms, as they were still similar enough to normal staff-fighting that it wouldn’t require a completely new foundation with which to work from.

Because the new style of fighting required her to be within relatively close quarters of her enemies, she learned to try and limit the time of the engagement with them as much as possible with quick, brutal strikes. That methodology happens regardless of how many opponents there are. A quick takedown means a much quicker escape after all. As a runaway apostate, she couldn’t risk leaving a trail of bodies behind her wherever she went.

Special skills: Niamh is specialized in all the elemental houses of magic although she favors lightning the most. During her time with the Inquisition, she also specialized in necromancy--much to the surprise of many.

RELATIONSHIPS

Family: Of the renowned Couslands, only she and her older brother Fergus remain, but despite their years apart(she honestly didn’t know that he survived the Battle of Ostagar until she returned to Ferelden in 9:41), they remain loving and supportive as always toward one another. Of her late mother’s family, the Mac Eanraigs, she gets along well with them, especially her Aunt Eithne (who will be making her first official appearance in chapter 24 of OtSttCA).

Love interest: Leliana (although they won’t be an official couple until close to chapter 30 or so)

Best friends: Dorian, Sera, and Cole. She views the three of them like younger siblings, which was an admittedly odd feeling for her at first, given that she’s the youngest of her own siblings.

Of her other companions, she is also closest to Vivienne although Niamh sees her more like a fond, maternal figure than a best friend. She greatly respects how the older woman was able to take her status as a mage and turn it into a position of power within the Orlesian Imperial Court, especially when so very little of it was ever afforded to their people. When it comes to the mage allies she gathered from Redcliffe, she trusts Vivienne’s judgment in overseeing them along with the Knight-Enchanters Niamh requested of her back in chapter 13, especially since Niamh travels so much between missions. Then, when it comes to just about anything regarding Orlais, she goes to Vivienne as much as Leliana or Josephine, mostly wanting the insight of a mage in regards to the culture and politics seen there.

Then, of her War Council, Leliana and Josephine are her absolute favorites. Niamh and Leliana have so much history between them that it’s impossible to separate themselves from one another, and she appreciates Josephine’s sweet nature as well as her diplomatic acumen.

PERSONALITY

Positive traits: Her adaptability. There’s an almost... chameleon-like nature to Niamh at times. As such, she can acclimate herself to whatever her environment asks of her and find a way to thrive in spite of it all. She’s also quite intelligent. Ever the eternal student, she constantly looks to expand her wealth of knowledge. Had she not been born a mage, she likely would have done well as a scholar in the world of Thedas. Niamh is also benevolent, always seeking to place more kindness into the world rather than contributing to the bad already within it.

Negative traits: After years of being taught rather toxic, religious doctrine from the Chantry in regards to mages, Niamh has rather low self-esteem, especially when it comes to the subject of love. She doesn’t believe herself worthy of Leliana for instance. As brilliant as she is, her mind can be rather restless at times. This can lead to overthinking outside of any tactical or official setting, which tends to feed back on her latent anxiety as a leader. Then, having spent a decade constantly on the move, she’s not used to staying still for long periods of time, which lends itself to some trouble, especially if she’s injured. She is quite literally the worst patient ever. :P

Likes: Storms, the ocean, mabari, tea, strategy games, sweets, books, art

Dislikes: The Chantry, Templars, discriminatory behavior, incivility,

Fears: The Rite of Tranquility, outright failure as a leader

Guilty Pleasure: Niamh has the most terrible sweet tooth. If given half the chance, she’d get her entire day’s sustenance through sweets alone. She actually does like fashion; she just couldn’t allow herself to indulge in it since her nomadic lifestyle before joining the Inquisition didn’t permit such luxury. She’d happily window-shop the entire day away if given the opportunity.

Hobbies: Sketching, painting, crafting, reading, chess

[doctortreklock]

AU-gust 31 - Coffee Shop AU & Modern AU

For this. On AO3.

The staff at Bean There, Done That had seen everything. As the closest independently owned coffee shop to campus, it was a crossroads of the college and at any given moment their clientele was a pretty decent cross-section of the student body.

Dean braced the pan of fresh scones against the back of the pastry case and surveyed the room in satisfaction. When he and his brother Sammy had opened the shop fifteen years earlier, they never could have imagined the ups and downs their lives would take to get to this point. His relationship with Cas alone! Jeesh. He shook his head. It had been a long, hard road, but his little family had made it to the other side, a bit battered, but solid.

He glanced at the clock. Cas’s class would be getting out pretty soon. Dean knew his husband would stick around until the last student had left, so he was probably a good half hour out still.

Dean frowned. If Cas’s class was almost done, that mean that--

The door burst open, a tall, gangly young man skidding through the doorway, clutching his bag.

--Merlin was late again.

“Sorry! So sorry!” he gasped. “But there was a--”

Dean waved him off with one hand. “Just get your apron on,” he scolded, knowing Merlin would be able to see through his exasperation.

“Yes! Sorry,” he apologized again. Merlin quickly stowed his satchel behind the counter and donned his apron. “I’ll wipe down tables,” he offered, grabbing a cloth and hurrying back out onto the floor.

It was a good thing Merlin had turned up, Dean thought in amusement, starting to refill the case, because otherwise the rugby player in the corner would have had a fit. Arthur turned up like clockwork every day Merlin worked and proceeded to make rude comments to Merlin’s face and watch him like a hawk when he wasn’t looking.

Dean would have put a stop to it, but when he’d asked Merlin about him, the student had looked surprised. “It’s just Arthur,” he’d dismissed. “He’s always like that.” Arthur’s sister Morgana and Merlin’s best friend Gwen were there a lot too, prodding at Arthur in irritation and giving him encouraging pep talks in turn, so he figured Merlin was probably safe enough.

Raised voices from the corner of the shop caught Dean’s attention for a moment, and he quickly looked over to make sure there weren’t going to be any fistfights breaking out. It was the Protester’s Corner, as he’d mentally dubbed it. There were two groups of students that occupied the circle of armchairs, always on alternating days. (Dean wasn’t sure he was mentally or physically prepared for the fall out if they ever showed up on the same day.)

On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, it must have been a group of International Studies students, because they were always talking in French when he stopped by to bus the tables. The couple words he understood were things like “liberty” and “equality”, so Dean figured they were probably talking about politics. Or maybe philosophy. Or history? Once again, he made a mental note to see if Cas knew who they were or what they were talking about.

The other group of students, the ones who descended on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, were most definitely Political Science students. Their conversations ranged from electoral politics to debates over the actual structure of government. Most of it went right over Dean’s head. He did make sure to keep an eye on the ringleader though. If he overdosed on caffeine, Dean was definitely going to get investigated.

A ruckus in the middle of the room pulled Dean away from the wanna-be revolutionaries. Merlin had apparently tripped over another chair leg, barely managing to stop himself from completely face-planting on the wood floor. Dean bit back a sigh. Merlin was one of their most personable employees, but he swore the young man had two left feet.

The student whose chair Merlin had tripped over helped him up and waved off his apologies. Dean had only seen him in the shop once or twice before, but Cas had him in one of his classes. The student’s name was Peter, and he was a Criminal Justice major from the UK. Dean wasn’t sure what classes he was taking, but he kept hauling around books that Dean would swear were in Latin, but that Peter stared at like they were Greek. How that was related to Criminal Justice or Cas’s Comparative Abrahamic Religions class, Dean had no idea.

The door opened again, and Dean glanced over, but it wasn’t a customer. Phil was apparently back from his break, which he’d spent making out with his archer boyfriend, if the flush on his face and adoring looks he threw behind himself were any indication.

Dean rolled his eyes at the goofy expression on Phil’s face and slid the last scone from his tray into the case. “You ready for the rush, Coulson?”

Phil nodded firmly as he rounded the counter and put on his apron, the red already fading from his cheeks as he focused on the task at hand. “Bring it.”

Merlin managed to successfully make it back to the counter with a handful of plates, forks, and mugs, none of which were broken. Dean was seriously starting to believe he was using magic. There is no way someone that clumsy could have gotten this far without breaking something through sheer mundane means.

Dean eased past his employees to put the empty scone tray back in the kitchen. The door opened again, and he peeked back into the shop.

The Radio-TV-Film classes were held in the nearest building, so the onslaught of RTF majors heralded the start of the next rush. Today it was the heavily tattooed radio host and their Physics major boyfriend first through the door.

Dean snagged the plates from Merlin before he could drop them and wordlessly gestured for him to take over the espresso machine.

Just as Dean vanished into the kitchen again to drop off the dirty dishes, he heard Phil’s bright voice behind the cash register. “Good afternoon, Cecil! Welcome back. What can we get for you today?”

[sinsofaconfessor]

(( Apologies! and warning! This post is LONG!))

The Stormwind streets, an almost peacefully quiet day save the typical shouts of Breels recipes and the local gnews echoing. Syred sat there, slumped at his desk. One hand propping up his head as his dull gaze watched the door. Not many came to his shop, the small demand silently astonished Syred. He was quite certain with the way Stormwind worked, the way azeroth worked people should be flooding for customized weapons, runes and enchantments, potions and poisons. The shop now was a waiting room, an eerie limbo where the elf sat and watched time pass. 

More often than not, he'd close the shop early due to lack of visitors and return home, but today the thin wooden boards that made up the back wall of the shop found a small fraction of curiousity. Syred had discovered his shop shared a wall with what sounded like a guard office of some time. Chatter day in and out of various events, information muffled through wooden planks almost interesting amid what was another day of very little. His gaze turned to the door up the stairs, contemplating bringing Amarah and Ari downstairs. He'd finished working on a book for them, blank pages enchanted to give movement to figures drawn on them. He suspected it'd keep them from coloring on anymore important tomes he'd tried desperately to keep from their hands.

Syreds shop was something he was...fairly proud of, a work of almost gaudy and over the top elegance mixed with the brick and wood theme of stormwind.  Enchantments keeping books tethered to shelves, candles mounted in metallic holders enchanted with levitation spells all for a bit of flare and appeal, if only to advertise some of what the store offered. All the while black and red themed carpets, curtains and tapestries settled and guided the patrons gaze to the wares, all completely matching Syreds own preferred attire scheme.  No one expected less from an elf. Syred enjoyed playing the part a little too much.

the sound of bare feet shuffled across stone, bringing Syreds ears  from eavesdropping on the muffle sounds behind him to the door. A night elf stepped slowly and carefully inside the enchanted parlour. Dark violet skin and muscle framed kilt and glowing runes simmered over the Kal'doreis chest and arms, blindfold settled loosely on the bridge of his nose as jagged horns curved forward and up, marking this one as Illidari, or at least former. Demon hunters.

Ugh, demon hunters. Syreds thoughts turned to telling the elf he was closed, turning him away. Business had been beyond slow, however, and the shop itself hemmoraged money. If Syred had sought to do this for actual profit the business would have gone under months ago. Money wasn't an obstacle, boredom however stalled his typical standoffish nature.

Syred straightened himself out, rising to his feet and offering a slight dip of the head to the demon hunter, noting the lack of glaives with mild curiousity. " Greetings, Welcome to the Needful. What are you looking for today? new steel?" Cordial, though strained he was at least momentarily polite. Syred didn't like demon hunters, or paladins, or cats, or drunkards, fools, Sundays,Lightforged, farmers....It could be said the list of things Syred did like was far shorter. " I'm looking for something to help me kill a demon. The King has sent me on a mission."  

Of course, Syred slouched, almost bored all over, of course the demon hunter was hunting demons. Of course a call to victory from the king. Syred  unavoidably sighed. " I recommend an orb, something to contain spirits and entities. Killing a demon isn't an issue, it's mostly what happens to their essence afterwards..I suspect you're careful enough to avoid overeating since you aren't a pile of ash." Syreds hand flicked, a crystalline orb floated off the shelf closest to the window, slowly gliding toward the center of the room. **Thunk..**

The orb fell to the ground,  its magics failed, in the same instant the whole shop seemed to falter like a gnomish machine running out of power. Enchantments lost their glow, candles fell to the ground spilling wax and rolling across the wood and stone. Everything in the store seemed to go dark. The entire fade of magic brought a moment of pause, confusion over Syreds face evident. All of this seemed...impossible. His eyes turned up to the window of his shop, outside a deep green glow just barely evident, a sign of tampering.

His eyes turned back to the demon hunter standing in the room with him, two feet taller, massive. His eyes stared down at Syred as thick rocky carapace coating his shoulders, arms and claws.

oh.

Oh.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Inside the Stormwind office, a simple accountant keeping track. He was seated at a desk, keeping tally of each guards salary in a ledger. Mundane silence and peace. It wasn't even payday when the accountant had the most conversations his entire week. The only break in his silence was the soft scribbles of the quill over paper.It was just enough for the accountant to wish for something else. Maybe -he- could apply for a guard position for a more exciting life! This office was cramped and worst of all, strangely hot this early in the morning. Why -was- it so hot?

The thought was answered in a flash of fate-woven destruction. Splintering wood heralded an explosion of shattered singed and cracked wooden walls. The first sight emerging? A pitch foxtail, cropped by massive violet clawed hands, armored in thick rocky scales. Wood planks thrust outward as burnt discolored wood exploded outward, the accountants only friend  was the desk he'd ducked behind to avoid the shrapnel of splinters and chunks of wood. The immense form of a Demon hunter powered by vengeance burst through the wall, revealing the shop burst in felflames. Massive clawed feet gouged the wood of the guard house as he'd come to a halt, it was evident a charged leap had sent the demon hunter and Syred through the wall. Destruction and flames weaved through the now merged buildings, Syreds head clutched in the demons clawed palm.

Smoke spilled through the office, causing the Accountant to race from his office , screaming into the street. "  FIRE!. There's a fire! " He scampered toward the stocks, quick to call anyone and everyones attention. Amid the plumes of smoke the sounds of violent impacts, wood being crushed and grunts of pain, snarls as the howl of of something whipping quickly through the air. Grunts and audible tears of cloth, and furniture violently crushed tattled the hidden violence behind the smoke. Small sounds of bystanders gathering witnessed not a shopkeep being accosted, but the shadows of two bipedal creatures illuminated by green flame and clouded by smog trading blows.

Books fueled the flames as the second stories support gave way, groaning before shelves came crashing to the ground, support beams weakened and collapsing into the rest pushing smoke into the streets. The crowed scampered back from the smoke, some overwhelmed by the surge and encompassed with in it.

Then? The smoke dissipated,  the witnesses seeing the smoke taking to the sky and flowing rapidly off into the distance. All that remained was the two destroyed buildings, all sounds of violence gone. It was as if the two creatures had vanished, leaving two hollowed frames of buildings burned to ash from entirely within. Syred had now earned himself the title of completely and utterly uninsurable.

Smoke rocketed across the sky, billowing over cliffs and farmland before arcing downward as if the smoke trailed a cannonball now coming to kiss the ground.  What landed was far heavier.  A crash of locked limps and clawed hands sinking into flesh, gashing wounds across skin tumbling across the quarry of the gold coast, set just to the profile of the giant pit. Syreds form scrambled to his feet, shadow magic clouding him and the demon hunter dissipated. The Night elfs rocky skin, forged into spikes jutting alone his forearms, shoulders, and back. The Night elfs skin bore claw marks gashing his flesh over his torso and arms, blood stained his spikes. His jaw, temple and cheek held lines cut across his face. Fire sparked over the dry grass of the plains cropping his feet. His Metamorphosis burned with power, heaving pants and a pleased grin laced in dripping blood over his canines.

Across from the Demon hunter  crouched Syred, his shoes destroyed leaving clawed feet and carapace skin. A long spindly tail swayed, barbed points at the end dripping with the demon hunters blood. His clothes were in tatters, flesh burned a slight green tint over the darker red. Horns curved back over his foxtail. Bruised skin in the shape of fingers painted over his head with blood dripping down over the back of his neck. Cuts  and pierced wounds peppered over the darkened skin of his torso, cropped barely by thin fabric dangling but a few errant buttons clinging to the mockery of the shirt swaying in the air of the farmland. Black carapace wings twitching and lightly flapping behind him. The Demon hunter had revealed Syreds form in the brutal brawl of fire, brimstone and public destruction. Syreds demonic flesh had torn into the fabrics of finely tailored clothes, carapace legs pierced the fabric of his pants as dripping blood leaked down his figure. The bleeding seemed secondary injuries to the large bruise marks forging green welts over Syreds skin and what was likely close to broken bones barely saved by hard demonic sinew and muscle.

Both were panting, staring unblinkingly at one another as Syreds voice gasped out the first words between the two since their first round of brawling. " You...Lose." Kal'dorei cackled. " I lose? I got you alone with no guards to interfere. You..." Lose."

This person was after him? The realization brought a swell of shadowmagic, darkness spilled across the ground, shadowy tendrils birthed from the ground and rocketed toward the demon hunter, sharpened points of magic seeking to skewer and pierce him. Felfire flames burst around the hunter, repelling the shadows around his form as his massive legs propelled him into the air, launching him down onto Syreds form. Felfire trailed around the hunters figure as he lunged at Syred.

Syreds gaze widened, watching the hunter repel his magics, sigils of felflame marking the ground around him. Clouds of shadowmagic surged around him, working to disperse his form from physicality only to be dispelled as a massive clawed hand ripped past the smoke, gripping at Syreds neck and plucking him from his magics influence. Carapace hands grasped at the arm in range before the demons form was gripped, clawed fingers dug into his throat causing blood to drip down his skin. The hunters laugh was instant as his grip allowed him to turn, lifting Syreds shorter demonic body and hurl him into the massive crater of the quarry.

Syreds body tumbled, no mercy granted in his fall as rocks crashed against carapace, bone and flesh until he'd landed at the bottom, limp figure draped over a fallen boulder. This was where a villain would be mid-monologue, talking about how perfect their plan was. It was unfortunate Syred wasn't in a talking mood. The hunter himself wasn't big on words and it showed as a boulder found itself rolled from the edge of the quarry and sent tumbling after the devastated demon. The sound of crashing rocks hitting the side of the quarry brought conscious thought and survival instincts to kick in, pushing Syred to open his eyes and look up. Shadows swirled around him again, pushing past the boulder as it slammed against the bottom of the quarry where his body once lay, the smoke condensed into a cloud, swelling as if staying intangible for whatever reason. The hunter allowed for little time for a reprieve, massive clawed feet pushed the elf off the edge of the quarry as he leapt down and into the cloud, immolating felflames burning through the cloud of magic and forcing Syreds form into physicality.

**CRACK**

Carapace broken, bone shattered and the demons body was shoved back into the bottom of the rocky pit, his left arm bent the wrong way, his torso folded against a clawed fist that cracked into his side, sending the body bouncing uselessly across the ground. Pain Ripped through Syreds nerves, screaming in protest at pain he'd not felt in some time. It was blinding and with so little time to recover the situation only found itself more grim. Syreds brief dispersion had allowed him time to seal the gashed and cuts on his wounds, but did little for new wounds of the devastating connections of the demons fists with his form. Syred fell uselessly again to the ground, magic wasn't working, and in this moment a knock down drag down fight wasn't working either. What else was left to do? Shadows were ineffective on the hunter. " The King wants you gone... Imagine his surprise when I tell him what you really were. A useless pile of demon." The hunter looked to be rolling his shoulders, fuming with power as flames licked the air around him. He approached Syreds prone form, snatching at his leg with a crushing grip to lift his carapaces figure upside down. A moment later the hunters hand twisted, snapping Syreds leg and cracking clear through the carapace to break at his leg. " There will be no nether for you, I'll eat you myself piece by piece...starting with.."

The pain caused an unavoidable howl from Syreds lips, anger, fury and rage boiled up. Whispers began to call at his mind, calling violence and death to his mind. Sanity melted rational thought except for one single synapse, one track snapped into a singular idea.

A boulder smashed against the hunters back, causing him to drop the elf and fall over. The hunter turned, looking at the top of the quarry above him. Had someone come to interfere? His answer came in the form of another boulder -smashing- against his form. Shadowy tendrils had birthed from the walls, magics grasping over the physical, what couldn't be dispelled by the hunters magics. Each Tendril Hurling boulder after boulder from the bottom of the quarry.

Rock after rock battered against the demons spiked armor, crashing and raining a storm of rocks against his body, the strain of physical exertion and the time spent in the form caused the spikes to melt away, grunts and thrashes as the hunter swiped at the number of shadowy assailants with little avail, their distance and use of the projectiles kept hailing any number of gravel. smaller stones hailed at the elf like bullets, pelting against the elfs violet skin until? A sharper rock found it's home in his back. An elongated rock hurled like a javelin pierced elven flesh, the tip of the rock emerged from his chest.

Syreds azure eyes stared from the ground, his mangled frame willing the shadowy tendrils into murdering for his will. The demons gaze turned to look back at Syreds prone form, even with the meat of his body absolutely devastated. Flames licked at his skin as felflames and power built into his form. The hunter laughed at Syred, watching him before.

Chaos, power, flames burst through the quarry. Fire erupted from the hunter in spite and vengeance causing a surge of felflame to burst and cover the entire quarry in the blast. The force of the explosion sent a tremor through the ground in Westfall, green flame lighting the morning sky in a pillar of flame, heat and magic slagging rock and spraying molten magic across the ground.

The eruption was enough to get the guards of sentinel hill to send a patrol, paladins given a call to action and adventurers given quest to find the source of the danger. In hours passed, the guard that came upon the scene found two charred skeletons cemented into slagged rock at the bottom of the quarry, unidentifiable by any clothing or hair, one skeleton submerged in heated rock face down into the bottom of the quarry, the other face up adjacent to him.

[empjammer-blog]

Play Online Video Slot

Gold coin in - spin - hold your breath......Watch individuals symbols.....Does it or will not it? Heart beating faster ..... the dials slow lower and it is A Champion!!!! Three bells consecutively! Hold on - there's more in the future - The screen is flashing, bells are ringing, you will find, it finally happened - YOU WON THE JACKPOT!!

To experience slots, clicking the "gold coin" icon to specify the need for credits you need to have fun with emp jammer. The payout scale for slots is proven towards the top of the slot machine game. This is actually the heart-stopping moment which makes slots irresistible this is actually the adrenalin-pumping experience which makes it impossible for slots to walk out fashion.

Slot Machine Game History begins in Bay Area USA, whenever a 29 years old auto technician named Charles Fey built the very first slot machine game ever in 1887: the freedom Bell, striking the public's imagination once they were set up in the Flaming Hilton hotel in Vegas.

The invention, hands made, in a tiny machine shop, has paved the direction to gambling industries as you may know them today. Charles Fey wasn't just the inventor, but the first slot machine game owner and operator, because he placed his operate in the pubs. A brief history of slots only has then begun.

A United States invention, slots have since become extremely popular all across the globe. The most known places include Europe, Africa, South Usa, Asia, and also the Caribbean.

Frequently known as 'one-armed bandits', their magnetic appeal is difficult to define. Could it be the hypnotic aftereffect of the spinning symbols? Or even the incredible excitement from the bells and flashing lights which herald the large win? Or simply the truth that they work purely around the gambler's closest friend - pure chance? Anything, slots would be the essence from the gambler's dream - the imagine that certain big existence-altering win.

Not lengthy ago, with this dream to become reality, you'd to purchase an air travel ticket to Vegas. Spend your time travelling. Put money into expensive hotels. Wear a suit, look for a casino, pay exorbitant entry charges, and wait half the night time for any free machine. Everything has altered. Play online slot machine game games - and also you obtain the fun, the thrill, the kicks and also the jackpots - free of charge! Online slots have all of the features which gamblers have loved for many years - whirring, flying symbols, the clank of coins, the manic ringing bells and flashing lights to announce victory.

You can now play online slot machine game games immediately, within the comfort of your home! With internet gambling, you are able to play online slot machine game games instantly anytime you've got a spare 30 minutes. Play online slot machine game games if this fits you. Play online slot machine game games using the money you'd have spent to get at an online casino.

[sugarsourgoat]

All of the 90s (& 80s) Anime You Need To Fill Your Nostalgic Heart

There’s is no greater feeling than running into something that makes you remember a fun time in your life. For me, that is the 90s. Even though I didn’t experience a lot of the 90s, I still have those times where I feel like getting out some popcorn and indulging in the things that make me feel as though I am back in that time. One specific way for me to do that is through watching anime that came out in the 90s. 

The typical art styles of 90s anime are something I sometimes wish was still a feature in today’s animation. The haziness of the animations (mostly because of the lower quality resolution of televisions during that era) takes me back to a time when I was a child. 

In this post, I hope that you will find an anime with a story that will pique your interest, as well as help you feel as though you are back in the 90s (or the 80s because I couldn’t help myself). If you were born in the 2000s, then hopefully this list will help you understand why some of us began to love anime in the first place or will open you to anime you never heard of.

If you have any 90s (or older) anime recommendations, let me know! I’m always happy to watch some old anime. 

xx, Sai

1. Oniisama e

When 16-year-old Nanako Misonoo enters the prestigious all-girls Seiran Academy, she believes a bright future awaits her. Instead, the unlucky girl finds herself dragged into a web of deceit, misery, and jealousy. On top of that, she is chosen as the newest inductee of the Sorority, an elite group whose members are the envy of the entire school. Having none of the grace, wealth, or talent of the other members, Nanako quickly draws the ire of her jealous classmates—especially the fierce Aya Misaki. To cope with her increasingly difficult school life, Nanako recalls her days through letters to her former teacher, Takehiko Henmi, whom she affectionately calls "onii-sama" (big brother). She also finds comfort with her four closest friends: her childhood friend Tomoko Arikura, the sociable but erratic Mariko Shinobu, the troubled musician Rei Asaka, and the athletic tomboy Kaoru Orihara. An impassioned drama about the hardships of bullying, Oniisama e... chronicles a young girl's harsh life at her new school, as she endures cruel rumours, heartless classmates, and countless social trials.

Aired: Summer 1991

2. Angel’s Egg

In a desolate and dark world full of shadows, lives one little girl who seems to do nothing but collect water in jars and protect a large egg she carries everywhere. A mysterious man enters her life... and they discuss the world around them. 

Aired: Fall 1985

3. Laputa: Castle in the Sky

In a world filled with planes and airships, Sheeta is a young girl who has been kidnapped by government agents who seek her mysterious crystal amulet. While trapped aboard an airship, she finds herself without hope—that is, until the ship is raided by pirates. Taking advantage of the ensuing confusion, Sheeta manages to flee from her captors. Upon her escape, she meets Pazu, a boy who dreams of reaching the fabled flying castle, Laputa. The two decide to embark on a journey together to discover this castle in the sky. However, they soon find the government agents back on their trail, as they too are trying to reach Laputa for their own greedy purposes. Tenkuu no Shiro Laputa follows the soaring adventures of Sheeta and Pazu, all while they learn how dreams and dire circumstances can bring two people closer together.

Aired: Summer 1986

4. Sailor Moon

Usagi Tsukino is an average student and crybaby klutz who constantly scores low on her tests. Unexpectedly, her humdrum life is turned upside down when she saves a cat with a crescent moon on its head from danger. The cat, named Luna, later reveals that their meeting was not an accident: Usagi is destined to become Sailor Moon, a planetary guardian with the power to protect the Earth. Given a special brooch that allows her to transform, she must use her new powers to save the city from evil energy-stealing monsters sent by the malevolent Queen Beryl of the Dark Kingdom. But getting accustomed to her powers and fighting villains are not the only things she has to worry about. She must find the lost princess of the Moon Kingdom, the other Sailor Guardians, and the Legendary Silver Crystal in order to save the planet from destruction.

Aired: Spring 1992

5. Akira

In 1988 the Japanese government drops an atomic bomb on Tokyo after ESP experiments on children go awry. In 2019, 31 years after the nuking of the city, Kaneda, a bike gang leader, tries to save his friend Tetsuo from a secret government project. He battles anti-government activists, greedy politicians, irresponsible scientists, and a powerful military leader until Tetsuo's supernatural powers suddenly manifest. A final battle is fought in Tokyo Olympiad exposing the experiment's secrets.

Aired: Summer 1988

6. Burn up! 

To the unsuspecting eye Maki, Reimi and Yuka may not look like ace crime fighters, which might explain why they're stuck on traffic patrol instead of more "exciting" police duties. All that changes when Yuka gets herself kidnapped by a white slave organization run by a politically connected businessman who's got the rest of the police cowed. Now it's up to Maki and Reimi to don skin-tight battle armor, liberate a tank, and make sure that a certain slaver learns that when you play with fire, you're going to get your ass burned!

Aired: Winter 1991

7. Neon Genesis Evangelion

In the year 2015, the world stands on the brink of destruction. Humanity's last hope lies in the hands of Nerv, a special agency under the United Nations, and their Evangelions, giant machines capable of defeating the Angels who herald Earth's ruin. Gendou Ikari, head of the organization, seeks compatible pilots who can synchronize with the Evangelions and realize their true potential. Aiding in this defensive endeavor are talented personnel Misato Katsuragi, Head of Tactical Operations, and Ritsuko Akagi, Chief Scientist. Face to face with his father for the first time in years, 14-year-old Shinji Ikari's average life is irreversibly changed when he is whisked away into the depths of Nerv, and into a harrowing new destiny—he must become the pilot of Evangelion Unit-01 with the fate of mankind on his shoulders. 

Aired: Fall 1995

8. Battle Angel Alita

Doc Ido, a doctor, and mechanic who lives and works in the hellish, post-apocalyptic "Scrapyard", finds the—miraculously preserved—remains of a female cyborg in a junk heap. After he revives and rebuilds her, the preternaturally strong, amnesiac "Gally" begins to forge a life for herself in a world where every day can bring a fight for life.

Aired: Spring 1993

That’s all for my nostalgia-giving anime list for now! If you have any suggestions for me on what anime I should watch send me a message! Let me know if you will/have seen any of these anime and what you think about them! Also, feel free to suggest topics you’d like to see from Sailure Artemis in the future (you can also submit posts).

See you next time!

[dyalavellan]

Dya'hel's relationships with companions & advisors

@lavellanlove​ asked me what her relationships were like with the other companions & advisors, so I decided to make a post about it because I found the question pretty interesting ^^ I hope you wouldn't mind the tag!

(Btw, if you are interested, the link for asking questions should have been enabled. I'm sorry I did not noticed before it was blocked!)

Companions

CASSANDRA:

Her relationship with Cassandra is quite hard at first. Basically, Cassandra scares as hell her because she always feels like the woman is about to draw the sword and cut her apostate throat. The two of them then, slowly become friends especially when Cassandra starts to open a bit. She reveals herself to be as pure as Dya'hel and a mother-like supporter. At the end of the game, they are bestfriends.

(You can find more on Headcanon#6: )

VARRIC:

Although Dya'hel will never be like Hawke to him, He treats her like a friend. Maybe more like a precious cinnamon roll to protect like "Daisy". In fact, she reminds him a lot of Merrill and sometimes he makes jokes about this. At first, he sure likes her because the fact she's part of a ethnic minorance and her innocence gives him the chance for doing some funny storytelling. In the end of the game, he becomes to Dya'hel like the uncle she never had.

SOLAS:

You probably already know a lot about their relationship since he's her love interest and I keep spam the two of them together hahah. Almost certainly soulmates and very close since the very beginning, it was love at first sight. They let things happen between their two without even noticing it at first. Forcing to end their true and inconditionate love it's what brokes them eventually in the end, knowing that they are losing the person who really belongs to each other.

DORIAN:

He finds Dya'hel truly beautiful in a matter of an objective point of view. He enjoys to be sassy with Solas and very caregiving with her, and secretely is one of the best supporters of their relationship. He values Dya'hel like a great companion and during the time they spend together, he manages to see in her some kind of hidden strenght that leads him to have an high consideration of her. In the end of the game, He stays with her for a long time after Solas leaves and becomes a sort of big brother to Dya.

SERA:

Sera finds her scary at first. Dya'hel is everything she dislikes in a single person: An elf, a mage and an "herald of Andraste". She pranks her a lot in Haven and Skyhold, making fun of her not-yet-relationship with Solas, turning their attempt of flirt in something awkward. But Dya'hel is too kind to get angry and tell her to leave the inquisition. So she kills Sera with kindness until Sera herself understands that Dya'hel is nothing of dangerous for her and that she can be trusted. Sera feels strange after realizing this, and also a little bit guilty. So she takes Dya with her on a pranking adventure to bother others and see how it goes. Revaluating her, they slowly become friends.

IRONBULL:

In the beginning, Bull thinks Dya is a fragile and shy lady elf who doesn't know how to relate with others. But in their first fighting together, He sees her as the war machine she's inside and completely changes his mind. Despite that, He's convinced by Sera to prank Dya'hel together and take her to the tavern to make her drink like there's no tomorrow. Dya'hel's low alcohol tolerance always guarantee the maximum fun on each trip. In the end of the game, Bull sees Dya as a friend and as a great companion, seeing other aspects of her character beside her shiness and her awkwardness.

BLACKWALL:

He's surprised at first to see an elf as the herald of Andraste. But her open minded character and her pure soul, makes his heart skip a beat. He has a crush on her for a very long time. And that's so big, he feels like he's competing with Solas at a certain point, even if he NEVER tells nobody about his feelings for her. Probably, only Cole knows. Anyway, Dya'hel sees him just like a friend and a good companion. He always has her back and protect her during fightings. Even in the end of the game, after Solas' betrayal, he doesn't confess his feelings knowing that Dya'hel would never love nobody else as much as she loves Solas. So he stays at Skyhold, silent, trying to confort Dya'hel as best as he can, serving her with determination. I think his love can be seen as one of the purest form, since it's based on the concept of letting free and see the other one happy instead of being selfish and wanting to be absolutely loved back.

VIVIENNE:

As well as Dorian, Vivienne sees Dya'hel as one of the most beautiful and classy creatures of the whole Thedas. The only thing she finds indigest about Dya, is her far-too-much-Solas-like humilty. She thinks that one apostate hobo in the party is enough. So she tries to convince Dya'hel in dressing up a little bit fancier than usual, and she proclames herself the inquisitor's "fashion advisor". She becomes the fashionable Aunt taht Dya'hel never had before. With this, Vivienne becomes also one of her closest friends after her breaking up woth Solas, remembering how Dya helped her in her darkest moments when her beloved duke died. Vivienne and Dorian in the end, are like Dya'hel's “feelings body guards”. They keep Solas in the distance to prevent her mental breakdown and they make fun of him in a very sassy way. Their poisonus tongues are like a wall between Dya and Solas after their break up.

COLE:

In my game, Cole becomes a Spirit. Before this, though, Dya'hel is one of the ones that tries to understand Cole's strange manners, feeling close to him due to his being emarginated from everyone. They have long talks about the fade and sometimes, even Solas takes part to their chit chats. Dya'hel wants to protect him to the bad of the world and let him be what he feels right to be. Cole owes her his life, so he becomes a devote spirit to her. He wants her and Solas to be together forever, so after his betrayal and also after the very end of the game, he travels everywhere to find him and make him come back to Dya'hel. Cole becomes the very link between Dya and Solas even after the events.

Advisors

CULLEN:

He doesn't talk much to Dya'ahel. He feels shy in her presence and limits their talks on organizational matters. Their relationship is trictly professional and Cullen really admire her for her actions and her will to make Thedas a better palce for everyone.

LELIANA

She really doesn't know how to handle Dya'hel. Her researches tells her very slightly informations about the girl so she has no idea about who she really is or what she should say to her. Her eagerness to know her more tho, scares a lot Dya'hel so they end up not talking much. Despite that, Leliana really tries hard to get close to her by giving her The Hero of Ferelden's grey warden outfit as a present (like descripted in one of the headcanons). Dya'hel reminds her of her disappeared friend, so Leliana is always kind but a little bit malinchonic when she tries to approach Dya. In the end, their friendship is stronger on leliana's side, since Dya'hel is too shy and she still feels like they are not that close to be called friends.

JOSEPHINE:

She feels like that asking questions to Dya'hel could always hurt her elfy feelings. Everytime she tries to know something deeper about Dya, the girl becomes silent and leaves. The truth is that at the beginning, Dya is still confused by the events and doesn't know who she should trust. Plus, Dya'hel has always had difficulties in trusting people with high roles in the community, due to her turbolent past in the Dalish tribe. With time, they manage to talk a bit but it takes forever to Dya to open up with Josie. So, her relationship with Josephin stays on a level of not-yet-friendship. Like it's freezed in the step before turning out to be real friendship.

NOTES IN THE END: They all become like a big family, even if someone might be not that close to Dya. Eventually, the fact that in my head she becomes pregnant at some point (see Cassandra's headcanon), makes everyone get closer to the kid and act like a real family. Nobody is left alone! (Except Egghead, but he deserves it XD)

[whirlwindamell-a]

𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬 !

FULL NAME.      elena amell. PRONUNCIATION.       el-en-uh. uh-m-ell. NICKNAME.       el. whirlwind (varric only). cupcake (varric only).  GENDER.         female HEIGHT.         5′2″ AGE.           18 (DA:O). 28 (DA:I) ZODIAC.         cancer. SPOKEN LANGUAGES.            common tongue. orlesian. 

𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 !

HAIR COLOR.       dark brown. EYE COLOR.        amber. SKIN TONE.         naturally pale, but tans easily.  BODY TYPE.        thick and curvy. by no means thin. very hourglass shaped.  ACCENT.         ferelden (english) VOICE.         usually very gentle and soft. doesn’t like to speak loudly, but very capable of doing so. has a bit of a mom voice when she’s angry or telling someone off.  DOMINANT HAND.         right. POSTURE.         good & proper. very straight. tends to slouch when sitting for long periods of time, though. SCARS.         lightning scars down her back and her right arm from fighting to escape kinloch hold.  TATTOOS.         none. BIRTHMARKS.         none. MOST NOTICEABLE FEATURE(S).       her scars, if they’re visible. otherwise her eyes. 

𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 !

PLACE OF BIRTH.        kirkwall, free marches HOMETOWN.         if you mean where she grew up, then kinloch hold, fereldan. FIRST WORDS.         she doesn’t remember and her parents were never around to tell her. SIBLINGS.         several unnamed brothers and sisters. all mages.  PARENTS.         revka amell (mother). unnamed father.  PARENTAL INVOLVEMENT.         separated at a very young age. elena doesn’t remember what her parents look like or what kirkwall looks like. 

𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 !

OCCUPATION.         enchanter in the circle tower at montsimmard. herald of andraste. inquisitor.  CURRENT RESIDENCE.          skyhold CLOSE FRIENDS.         interaction dependent? she tends to get along well with vivienne and cassandra though. def would consider cullen, josephine, and leliana among her closest friends.  RELATIONSHIP STATUS.          in a relationship with makerguideme’s cullen unless otherwise stated (ie: romancing someone else or interacting w/ another cullen).  FINANCIAL STATUS.         ???. well off now that she’s the inquisitor, but she doesn’t consider the inquisition’s money to be her money, if that makes sense.  DRIVER’S LICENSE.      yes (modern). CRIMINAL RECORD.         was very briefly held prison under suspicion that she blew up a bunch of people and killed the divine. VICES.        idk if a horrible sugar addiction counts, but she’s got a horrible sugar addiction. 

𝐬𝐞𝐱 & 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 !

SEXUAL ORIENTATION.         heterosexual (debatable, but that’s what she thinks).  ROMANTIC ORIENTATION.         panromantic. PREFERRED EMOTIONAL ROLE.       submissive |  dominant |  switch. PREFERRED SEXUAL ROLE.       submissive  |  dominant  |  switch. LIBIDO.         don’t really know? probably on the high side once she gets going.  TURN ON’S.         cuddling, morning kisses, stolen moments of intimacy.  TURN OFF’S.        unnecessary cruelness, intense physical pain, lack of communication. LOVE LANGUAGE.  physical touch followed closely by quality time.  RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES.       she tends to love with her entire heart and sort of epitomizes the idea that love is blind. once she’s committed to someone, even if that person isn’t exactly committed to her, she’s 100% theirs. she’s super quick to forgive anything her partner has done wrong and tries really hard to rationalize bad stuff away. she’s very all or nothing and doesn’t really understand casual relationships. 

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 !

CHARACTER’S THEME SONG.         landscape by florence + the machine. king by lauren aquilina. HOBBIES TO PASS TIME.         baking. cooking. eating. anything that involves putting things in her mouth. reading. MENTAL ILLNESSES.        ptsd. separation anxiety. PHYSICAL ILLNESSES.         none. LEFT OR RIGHT BRAINED.         right brained. FEARS.     losing the people she loves. losing her new family again. it’s not exactly a fear, but things that remind her of kinloch tend to set off her ptsd and send her into a panic unless she’s with someone she trusts.  SELF CONFIDENCE LEVEL.         surprisingly low, actually, especially when it comes to her appearance and like...things that involve personal matters? she’s confident in her abilities to teach and has grown more confident in her abilities to lead, but she doesn’t think very highly of herself.  VULNERABILITIES.        how openly and willingly she loves. her stubborn naivety. how much she loves/loved her family (the mages in kinloch and now the inner circle of the inquisition) the fact that any unexpected mention of kinloch sets her off. cullen.

stolen from: @relixblelxdies tagging: anyone who wants to. 

[ceslawrites]

What The Dickens?! A Fiddauthor Christmas Carol

A one shot fiddauthor fic for @tunaraptor, my @disford Secret Santa partner! Enjoy below the cut, or read on Ao3!

To begin with, Northwest Manor had been no stranger to Christmas parties in the days when the Northwests properly owned it. Naturally, those parties were exclusive only to the cruel clan’s wealthiest friends and allies; they were lavish affairs meant only to flout the Northwest’s many possessions. There were feasts consisting of meat from all sorts of endangered animals that had been killed in various nasty ways, presents for the children that had been bought from embezzling Christmas charities, and dull party games that were just thinly veiled excuses to insult each other under the guise of holiday cheer. Not a true drop of good will towards mankind could be found at these splendid affairs, as sparkling and hollow as a crystal ornament dangling from an endangered Redwood’s boughs.

Thankfully, those days were as dead as a doornail now that the mansion belonged to Fiddleford Hadron McGucket. Good fortune had smiled down on McGucket in the last few years; his inventions had given him wealth beyond his wildest dreams. This might have made a greedier man miserly, but McGucket loved nothing more than to give his fortune back to his friends, neighbors and loved ones, with Christmas being his most favorite time of all. He too liked to throw a holiday party every Christmas eve, but the guest list included everyone in town, with enough accommodations to satisfy all.

On the night before Christmas, everyone who lived in Gravity Falls, both human and magical creature alike, was at McGucket’s party. Food from Greasy’s Diner was served at the feast, lovingly provided by Lazy Susan (I can say with full certainty that no finer Christmas Dinner of pancakes, omelets and coffee had ever been seen in the history of the Yuletide season). The gnomes had formed a roving chorus of carolers that roamed the halls serenading guests with cheerful holiday carols, afterwards they would then ask for a small donation to the local children’s hospital under threat of bodily harm. Both Dipper and Mabel, who were visiting for the holidays, had taken to decorating the mansion with their friends and Gideon, who refused to leave them alone. Even Stan was in a marvelous mood, having dumped an entire flask of gold ru—I mean, “Happy Jolly Christmas Water with No Alcoholic Properties Whatsoever” into is carton of eggnog.

  While all this pandemonium broke out through the house, Ford Pines was navigating the vast sea of revelers in order to find his husband. He fiddled with one of the wedding bands on his left hand anxiously, Ford never cared much for huge parties with lots of people, preferring to spend his evenings left to his own devices or, at the most, with his family and closest friends. Fiddleford was the one who loved celebrations, and yet he was nowhere to be found.

           “Kids,” Ford called up to Mabel, who was standing on top of a ladder hanging a sprig of Mistletoe above one of the doorways. Her friends Candy, Grenda and even Pacifica Northwest herself were stringing garlands of holly everywhere, not particularly caring where they ended up as long as it looked festive.

 “Hey Grunkle Ford,” said Mabel cheerfully, accidentally dropping the mistletoe on top of Pacifica Northwest’s head. “Whoops! Sorry!”

 “Oooh,” said Candy and Grenda in unison. “Paz is gonna get kisses!”

 “Get this moldy, sexual harassment weed off of me,” Pacifica sneered as she yanked the mistletoe out of her hair. She passed it off to a flying gaggle of sugar plum fairies, who later nestled the mistletoe into the hair of a pretty white haired elf, which lead to another romantic holiday tale for another time. All stories lead into other stories, and this party was a mass of stories waiting to be told, but we must focus on the tale Ford and Fidds for tonight, or we’ll lose ourselves entirely.

 “Girls,” said Ford patiently, “Have you seen Fiddleford anywhere? He’s missing his own party!”

 “I saw him sitting by the tree in the game room earlier,” said Pacifica, pointing down the hall to a slightly ajar door. “He looked like he was having some, I don’t know, old age introspection, so I left him alone.”

 “Thanks Penny—”

 “… Pacifica?”

  “—Right. Sorry,” mumbled Ford absentmindedly as he made his way to the game room. “Honestly though, who names a child that?”

 “Old Money sociopaths,” Pacifica replied as she turned her attention back to decorating.

 Ford found his husband staring up wistfully up at the top of a magnificent Christmas tree, where high above a mechanical angel Fidds had invented gleamed in the dim light of the room.

 “Everything all right, Fidds,” asked Ford, placing a hand on his shoulder. Fiddleford smiled as he placed his own hand on Ford’s.

 “I guess I was just feelin’ a little blue,” sighed Fidds, “seeing the kids having a good time… I cain’t remember what Christmas used to be like when I was young. I didn’t want to spoil the party, so I just came in here to act all pensive and melancholy on my lonesome. Ya don’t have ta stay—”

 “Of course I do,” Ford whispered. He took Fidds’ hand and kissed it tenderly. “Why don’t we sit on the couch together and watch the fire, maybe that’ll make you feel better?”

 “Aw, I don’t wanna keep ya cooped up here,” said Fidds, gifting Ford with a smile, “They’re gonna start playing A Christmas Carol out on the TV soon, ya don’t wanna miss that.”

 “Oh yes I do,” said Ford disgustedly. “Charles Dickins’ A Christmas Carol is the most trite, sentimental story in the entire canon of British Literature, and only hacks with no imagination whatsoever rely on it whenever they want to tell a Christmas story.”

 … And then Ford slapped himself in the face for no apparent reason.

 “Ow!”

 “What cha do that fer?” asked Fiddleford, startled.

 “I’m… not really sure,” said Ford, rubbing the place where his hand had struck. He smiled apologetically to Fidds, and then set his sight on an old record player sitting across the room. Suddenly hit with inspiration, Ford made his way over to the machine and put in an old album

 “Truth be told,” said Ford with a warm smile as the first few bars of the Arabian Dance began to play, “I was always fonder of The Nutcracker myself.”

He offered his hand to Fiddleford.

“Would you like to dance?”

Fiddleford took Ford’s hand without a drop of hesitation. The slow, sultry sounds of woodwinds and cymbals filled the room as they danced a sort of tango across the game room floor. It wasn’t long before Fiddleford unshackled the gloom that had weighed him down like great chains of lead, losing himself completely to the music and Ford’s gentle touch.

“Where’d ya learn to move ‘round like that,” Fidds giggled as Ford lowered him into a sudden dip.

“The Dance Dimension, the one where everyone communicates through dancing,” Ford said before kissing the tip of Fiddleford’s nose.

“Y’ought ta show off them fancy moves off at the party,” said Fiddleford.

“Soon enough,” Ford shrugged as he pulled up his partner, “but I want to finish this one first.” Ford spun Fiddleford around as the music began to slowly fade away, finishing it off by pulling his partner close into a passionate kiss. It was a perfect moment.

Pity that’s the exact time the ghost showed up.

The fire in the hearth blew out as an unearthly chill engulfed the room, the door slammed itself open and closed, drawing the attention of the girls decorating in the hall. The walls rattled ferociously, knocking several of the mounted animal heads onto the floor, all while an ominous moaning began to fill the air, louder and louder until it was an unbearable pitch.

“What’s going on?” shouted Mabel over the commotion.

“I don’t know,” Ford cried back as he held a frightened Fiddleford close to his chest. “But it’s possibly a category ten ghost—you girls stay back just in case!”

The apparition finally manifest itself into physical form, bound in chains that clasped in the middle and weighed it down miserably.

“PRESTON NORTHWEST,” wailed the creature, its gruesome face frozen in rigor mortis even as it spoke in a horrible, hoarse voice.

“… What?” Fiddleford blinked in confusion.

“Ugh, Uncle Marley, dad doesn’t live here anymore, now stop bothering Mr. McGucket,” said Pacifica, making her way into the room with the rest of the girls.

“Uncle Marley?”

“Yeah,” said Pacifica, rolling her eyes, “He was Great-Great-Grandfather’s business partner a hundred years ago who died stealing Christmas from all the children of townspeople who owed him money, and now every Christmas he’s stuck warning every new generation of Northwests that if they don’t change their ways, they’ll be trapped to the same fate he earned.”

“Ohhhh, that’s so festive,” cheered Mabel.

“It gets old quickly,” said Pacifica with a scowl.

“Well,” Fiddleford stepped toward the ghost nervously, “I’m awful sorry mister, but Preston Northwest don’t live here no more. And don’t bother the girl neither, she’s a good kid.” Fidds clapped a protective hand on Pacifica’s shoulder, which made her smile. “Ain’t anybody haunting anybody here tonight. Although, yer more than welcome to join the party downstairs, there’s plenty of ghosts ya can hang out with there if’n ya want to stay.”

“Alas,” said the ghost mournfully, “I cannot rest, I cannot stay, I cannot linger anywhere—”

“Didn’t stop you from ruining my fourth grade Christmas sleepover,” mumbled Pacifica under her breath.

“I must admit this is most inconvenient,” said the ghost, scratching his chin pensively. “I was sent to herald the arrival of the ghost of Christmas Past, Present and Yet To Come, they’ll be quite put out that they won’t be able to perform their duties tonight.”

“Wait,” said Ford with a bright smile that began to glow in the darkness of the room. “Perhaps we could work something out…”

The Ghost of Christmas present was, in his entire jolly splendor, a welcome edition to the party, providing a surplus of food and comfort for all to enjoy. He and Mabel became fast friends as they lead the party to new heights of merriment, to the point where even Pacifica couldn’t help but crack a smile.

The formidable Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come wanted nothing more than to haunt Preston Northwest with visions of his terrible fate if he were to continue to be a jealous, greedy jerk, but the specter was content to postpone that frightful encounter as Candy and Grenda quizzed him on such pressing matters as whether or not Marius would give Grenda another palace for Christmas, and who Candy should kiss on New Years Eve.

Of the haunting trio, however, the Ghost of Christmas Past was the one Ford had most wanted to see.

“Can you show him a few Christmases from his childhood,” he indicated Fiddleford with a gesture of his hand, “It would mean the world to him.”

“Of course,” said the luminous child, taking both old men by the hand.

In an instant, they were transported into a series of faded memories: young Fiddleford ice skating out on a pond in Tennessee, then another scene where little Fidds unwrapped a new banjo underneath a Christmas tree, Fiddleford tucking his young son into bed and reading The Night Before Christmas to help the child fall asleep soon. Old McGucket could barely hold back his tears of joy as each scene danced before him in an instant.

“Is this all right,” said Ford nervously, “do you like it? We can stop if you want–”

“I love it,” Fiddleford croaked, throwing his arms around Ford’s waist. “Thank you… thank you so much…”

Ford gently kissed the top of Fiddleford’s head.

“Screw it,” he whispered. “God bless us, every one.”

[larsminute]

Coronavirus may confine us - but we can learn to explore in very different ways

Alain de Botton: how to travel from your sofa At some point in the 1650s, the French philosopher and mathematician Blaise Pascal jotted down one of the most counterintuitive aphorisms of all time: “The sole cause of man’s unhappiness is that he cannot stay quietly in his room.

”Really? Surely having to stay quietly in one’s room must be the start of a particularly evolved kind of psychological torture? What could be more opposed to the human spirit than to have to inhabit four walls when, potentially, there would be a whole planet to explore?

And yet Pascal’s idea usefully challenges one of our most cherished beliefs: that we must always go to new places in order to feel and discover fresh and worthwhile things. What if, in fact, there were already a treasury inside us?

What if we had within our own brains already accumulated a sufficient number of awe-inspiring, calming and interesting experiences to last us 10 lifetimes? What if our real problem was not so much that we are not allowed to go anywhere — but that we don’t know how to make the most of what is already to hand?

Being confined at home gives us a range of curious benefits. The first is an encouragement to think. Whatever we like to believe, few of us do much of the solitary, original, bold kind of thinking that can restore our spirits and move our lives ahead. The new ideas we might stumble upon if we did travel more ambitiously around our minds while lying on the sofa could threaten our mental status quo.

An original thought might, for example, alienate us from what people around us think of as normal. Or it might herald a realisation that we’ve been pursuing the wrong approach to an important issue in our lives, perhaps for a long time. If we took a given new idea seriously, we might have to abandon a relationship, leave a job, ditch a friend, apologise to someone, rethink our sexuality or break a habit.

But a period of quiet thinking in our room creates an occasion when the mind can order and understand itself. Fears, resentments and hopes become easier to name; we grow less scared of the contents of our own minds — and less resentful, calmer and clearer about our direction. We start, in faltering steps, to know ourselves slightly better. 

Another thing we can do in our own rooms is to return to travels we have already taken.This is not a fashionable idea. Most of the time, we are given powerful encouragement to engineer new kinds of travel experiences.The idea of making a big deal of revisiting a journey in memory sounds a little strange —or simply sad. This is an enormous pity. We are careless curators of our own pasts. We push the important scenes that have happened to us to the back of the cupboard of our minds and don’t expect to see them ever again.

But what if we were to alter the hierarchy of prestige a little and argue that regular immersion in our travel memories could be a critical part of what can sustain and console us — and, not least, is perhaps the cheapest and most flexible form of entertainment. We should think it almost as prestigious to sit at home and reflect on a trip we once took to an island with our imaginations, as to trek to the island with our cumbersome bodies.

In our neglect of our memories, we are spoilt children, who squeeze only a portion of the pleasure from experiences and then toss them aside to seek fresh thrills. Part of why we feel the need for so many new experiences may simply be that we are so bad at absorbing the ones we have had.

To help us focus more on our memories, we need nothing technical. We certainly don’t need a camera. There is one in our minds already: it is always on, it takes in everything we’ve ever seen. Huge chunks of experience are still there in our heads,intact and vivid, just waiting for us to ask ourselves leading questions, such as:“Where did we go after we landed?” or “What was the first breakfast like?” Our experiences have not disappeared, just because they are no longer unfolding right in front of our eyes. We can remain in touch with so much of what made them pleasurable simply through the art of evocation.and reflect on a trip we once took to an island as to trek to the island with our cumbersome bodies.

We talk endlessly of virtual reality. Yet we don’t need gadgets. We have the finest virtual reality machines already in our own heads. We can — right now — shut our eyes and travel into, and linger among, the very best and most consoling and life-enhancing bits of our pasts.

We tend to travel because of a background belief that, of course, the reality of a scene must be nicer than a mental image we form of it at home. But there is something about the way our minds work that we would do well to study when we regret our inability to go anywhere. There will always be something else that obscures that beautiful destination scene, something so tricky and oppressive as to somewhat undermine the purpose of having left home in the first place, namely: ourselves. 

We have no choice but to bring ourselves along to every destination we ever want to enjoy. And that means bringing along so much of the mental baggage that makes being us so intolerably problematic day to day: all the anxiety, regret, confusion, guilt,irritability and despair.

None of this smear of the self is there when we picture a trip from home for a few minutes. In the imagination, we can enjoy unsullied views. But there, at the foot of the golden temple or high up on the pine-covered mountain, we stand to find that there is so much of “us” intruding on our vistas.

There’s a tragicomic irony at work: the vast labour of getting ourselves physically to a place won’t necessarily bring us any closer to the essence of what we seek. As we should remind ourselves, we may already enjoy the very best that any place has to offer us simply by thinking about it.

Let’s turn to another Frenchman with a comparable underlying philosophy. In the spring of 1790, a 27-year-old writer called Xavier de Maistre locked himself at home and decided to study the wonders and beauty of what lay closest to him,entitling the account of what he had seen A Journey Around My Room.

The book is a charming shaggy-dog story. De Maistre shuts his door and changes into a pair of pink-and-blue pyjamas. Without needing to pack a suitcase, he “travels” to the sofa, which he looks at through fresh eyes and appreciates anew. He admires itselegant feet and remembers the pleasant hours he has spent among its cushions,dreaming of professional success and love.

Next, de Maistre spots his bed. Using a traveller’s perspective, he also learns to value this piece of furniture. He feels gratitude for the agreeable nights he has passed in it and takes pride that his sheets almost match his pyjamas. “I advise every man who can to get himself pink-and-white bed linen,” he writes, for these are colours to induce calm and pleasant reveries in the fragile sleeper.

However playful, de Maistre’s work is inspired by a profound insight: that the pleasure we find in new places is perhaps dependent more on the mindset with which we travel than on the destination. If only we could apply a similar mindset to our own rooms and immediate neighbourhoods, we might find these places becoming no less fascinating than foreign lands.

So, what is the traveller’s mindset? Receptivity, appreciation and gratitude might beits chief characteristics. And, crucially, this mindset doesn’t need to wait for a farawayjourney to be deployed.

A walk is the smallest sort of journey we can ever undertake. It stands in relation to atypical holiday as a bonsai tree does to a forest. But even if it is only an eight-minute interlude around the block or a few moments in a nearby park, a walk is already a journey in which many of the grander themes of travel are present.

We might, on such a walk, catch sight of a flower. It is extremely rare properly to delight in flowers when one can at any point take off to another continent. There are so many larger, grander things to be concerned about than these small, delicately sculpted manifestations of nature. However, it is unusual to be left entirely indifferent by flowers when the world has narrowed dramatically and there is global sadness in the air. Flowers no longer seem like a petty distraction from a mighty destiny, but a genuine pleasure amid a litany of troubles, a small resting place for hope in a sea of difficulties.

Or we might, on a local walk, spot a small animal: a duck or a hedgehog. Its life goes on utterly oblivious to ours. It is entirely devoted to its own purposes. The habits of its species have not changed for centuries. We may be looking intently at it but it feels not the slightest curiosity about who we are; from its point of view, we are absorbed into the immense blankness of unknowable things. A duck will take a piece of bread as gladly from a criminal as from a high-court judge, from a billionaire as from a bankrupt felon; our individuality is suspended and, on certain days, that may be an enormous relief.

On our walk around the block, themes we’d lost touch with — childhood, an odd dream we’ve had, a friend we haven’t seen for years, a big task we had always told ourselves we’d undertake — float into attention. In physical terms, we’re hardly going any distance at all, but we’re crossing acres of mental territory.

A short while later, we’re back at home once again. No one has missed us, or perhaps even noticed we’ve been out. Yet we are subtly different: a slightly more complete,more visionary, courageous and imaginative version of the person we knew how to be before we wisely went out on a modest journey.

We will — one day — recover our freedoms. The world will be ours to roam in once more. But during our collective confinements, aside from the obvious inconveniences,we might come to cherish some of what is granted to us when we lose our customary liberties. It cannot be a coincidence that many of the world’s greatest thinkers have spent unusual amounts of time alone in their rooms. Silence gives us an opportunity to appreciate a great deal of what we generally see without properly noticing; and to understand what we have felt but not yet adequately processed.

We have at present not only been locked away; we have also been granted the privilege of being able to travel around a range of unfamiliar, sometimes daunting but essentially wondrous inner continents. 

- Alain de Botton

[epistolizer]

Hit and Run Commentary #126

Antifa insurgent Willlem Van Spronsen is being heralded as an hero in the mainstream media for his attack on a Seattle immigration facility. Wonder how long until New Wave Baptists hand down an edict demanding mere pewfillers flagellate themselves in homage to this revolutionary martyr.

Am trying to wrap my mind around New Wave Baptist thinking. Apparently a pewfilling angler that skipped three Sundays in row to go fishing should be subject to formalized church discipline. Likewise, a member wanting to resign from a congregation over the refusal to remove a book from the church bookstore by an author that allegedly abetted child molestation was denied PERMISSION to leave. Yet there is no outcry for discipline on the part of these sorts when ministries eagerly link to CD’s with cover art depicting the puffing of recreational cannabis or when a theologian calls for the hacking of the U.S. electoral system to prevent a Trump reelection. In fact both offenders are still upheld as beloved brothers in the faith most likely simply because they are Black.  

Apparently this is the debate topic of the day: I resolve that overall one is better off overall being a “momma’s boy” than “p---y whipped”. In most instances, a mother does not have an incentive to financially ruin her son and in most cases strives to ensure that he is not mistreated. The woman controlling a man through sex has no reason not to ruin the life of a man she can no longer manipulate or who no longer keeps her attention in a carnal manner.  What these woman jacked out of shape are actually articulating is a frustration and the inability to acquire the resources accumulated by a man that is a momma’s boy or adopted some iteration of MGTOW ideology. 

In an episode of the City Of Man podcast, Capitol Hill Baptist-linked theologian Thabiti Anyabwile denounced as a tendency the White church the reluctance to accept those as Christians who do not vote conservative.  But he himself recently remarked that you are satanic if you do not support reparations.  

In an episode of the podcast The City Of Man, Capitol Hill Baptist-linked theologian Thabiti Anyabwile denounced elevating White normativity to the level of Christian obligation. As an example, he referenced a panel on worship responding negatively to the possibility of Christian hop hop. If culturally expansive ministries want to make the case for the legitimacy of such artistic productions, perhaps these organizations should link to albums other than one depicting an image of an individual puffing what one assumes is recreational cannabis given that the title of the CD itself alludes to words associated with the use of controlled substances.   Furthermore, if Black people don’t like White folks’ worship music and vice versa, why not just go to a church where your preferred demographic predominates? These are not the days of the Pre-Reformation in which we live with only one church game in town.  

There is nothing in the Pledge of Allegiance insinuating that because an individual articulates its phraseology in reference to the United States that God is not the God of other nations. So just what other aspects of life internal to America must be curtailed and altered from the perspective of being concerned regarding what other countries think? And I was the one accused of spreading fear for daring to raise the question of what would happen to a congregation’s flag should a merger take place with a congregation where one of its elder’s claim to fame is his antipathy to ecclesiastical displays of patriotism.  

It’s been claimed that childless millennials that go to Disney parks are sad and weird.  Maybe so. But they are entitled to spend their excess vacation dollars anyway they want.  Vacation is about doing what you enjoy. Not pleasing those around you that in no sense provide for you. Maybe childless millennials that go to Disney are weird. But they are less disturbing than the gays that go to Disney and stick their tongues down each other’s throats in front of young children.  

If this is the route we want things to go, I would say that a church should be more ashamed over having a Wrestlemania style jumbotron, smoke machines, and effect lighting than a simple American flag.  

Apparently Pastor Matt Chandler speaks at Dallas Theological Seminary.  I remember when respectable dispensationalism considered you little better than a Catholic if you were a holy roller such as a Pentacostal or Charismatic.  

According to Pastor Matt Chandler in a sermon on racial reconciliation, it is insinuated that you ought to confess your “racial sins” to someone solely on the basis of what color they happen to be.  At that point, one really ought to leave such a church and never look back. That is especially sound advice in regards to Chandler’s own Village Church which is also facing a multimillion dollar molestation lawsuit.

In a Matt Chandler sermon at Dallas Theological Seminary on overcoming prejudice, an institution functionary admonished the need to repent of the cultural sins of our forefathers even if these misdeeds are more perceived than actual. Now does that include things said about and done to Catholics or are they not usually Black enough?

Just because a pastor or minister is wracked with White guilt over his lack of diverse friends, there is no reason an entire congregation needs to be beaten over the head about it. In all fairness, I don’t really hang out with all that many White people either.

If the Obama’s are so outraged at President Trump’s characterization of Baltimore, why didn’t the former first couple settle on property there for their post-presidential residence rather than in a swanky, upscale section of Washington, DC.   Aren’t there a number of open air markets in Baltimore of the sort that Michelle claims to adore?  

In a Matt Chandler video on racial reconciliation, it was insinuated that the true church is obligated to listen to the music of and eat the food of different cultures.  If you attend a church, there might not be much you can do about assorted rhythms assaulting your tympanic membranes. But the moment you are told what you are obligated to eat in order to receive the approval of the COMMUNITY, you have begun taking dangerous steps into cult territory.  

In a video on racial reconciliation posted by Matt Chandler of Village Church, it was lamented that most Americans will only have friends of another race if the person thinks like they do.  So just how deep into our closest confidences are we obligated to bring those advocating the forcible redistribution of property and resources or the proponents of assorted forms of revolutionary violence and jihadism? To what extent are conservatives and related traditionalists obligated to alter their own underlying worldview to placate ecumenicalist social engineers?  

In a video by Matt Chandler of Village Church on racial reconciliation, it is emphasized that the individual’s preference does not matter in regards to worship music. That might be true if you want to remain at a church as a paid staff member. But has news about the Protestant Reformation not yet reached certain people? Dear reader, if things are that onerous at your church, you have the freedom to go elsewhere if you are already driving wherever else you want to go.  You don’t even have to go back at all if things have burdened your conscience to that degree and there is no hope of improvement or you derive no sense of purpose or satisfaction playing the gadfly role.  

It was insinuated by Pastor Matt Chandler in a video on racial reconciliation that you are racist if you do not welcome racial minorities into your home. Frankly, I don’t really welcome that many other Caucasians. They really have no reason to be there.  

American cities are so overrun with rodents that the nation is on the verge of a bubonic plague outbreak.  Should that happen, any categorizing the epidemic as anything other than a glorious environmental correction will be condemned as an enemy of sound ecology.  

Too bad tolerancemongers are not as concerned about rodents infesting Baltimore as they are about Trump’s characterization of the situation.

In a sermon on racial reconciliation, Pastor Matt Chandler insinuated that there needs to be verbalized confession of sins between those of various racial groups. So how does this work: “Hey mommacita or brown sugar, I’m sorry that I like your jiggle when you strut.”  

In agitating about White privilege, Gospel Coalition operative Matt Chandler lamented how in his youth the local high school football games were diverse but the churches were not. That is because the town probably only had the one football team but most likely multiple churches.  So who decides what congregation closes up shop to placate some leftwing activist’s arbitrary preferences? Chandler can’t even let enough control go of the churches he has planted for them to operate as autonomous independent congregations. His preferred ecclesiastical modality is the multisite paradigm.  That is where in most instances you go to a satellite campus to watch a live stream feed from central headquarters.  

Does it really matter if White folks worship in churches composed primarily of other White people and Black people in  churches composed primarily mostly of Black people so long as one congregation is not planning to go vandalize or firebomb their counterparts?  

In condemning seminarians establishing independent congregations rather than coming under the authority of megachurch potentates, how is Matt Chandler appreciably different than a medieval pontiff insisting that there is no legitimate church outside of Rome’s direct authority?  Maybe if Chandler did not oversee a church of 14,000, if the average church had an average attendance of 100 people, maybe nearly 150 people would be able to be employed by smaller independent congregations.  

If you are so mentally weak that seeing the flag of a country in a church building in that country inflicts upon you irrevocable psychological harm, perhaps it might be best if you avoided international travel.

In ramblings psyching himself up to perpetrate his atrocity, mass murderer Santino Legen wrote, “Why overcrowd towns and pave more open space to make room for hordes of mestizos and Silicon Valley white tw**s?” In attempting to cast this incident solely as racial, the comment directed against Whites is largely being ignored. If we are obligated to delve into the philosophical causes of these sorts of tragedies, isn’t population control and radical environmentalism just as much to blamed in this incident?  

Considerable debate has erupted over remarks regarding the propriety of childless millennials vacationing at Disney parks. But what about scrutinizing an assertion made in the initial tirade suggesting that simply because a woman has a child she should be allowed to skip the line because neither she nor her whelp have the patience to wait and are too important to be bothered with the inconveniences that beset mere mortals?  So unless a customer is willing to pay extra for some sort of timed access permit, just because you have spawned that does not entitle an individual to resources where access is based upon other objective market criteria.  

By Frederick Meekins

[vipcryptosignalscom-blog]

Remembering Satoshi’s Imaginative And Prescient — Because It Was Written

New Post has been published on https://vipcryptosignals.com/bitcoin-news/remembering-satoshis-imaginative-and-prescient-because-it-was-written-3/

Remembering Satoshi’s Imaginative And Prescient — Because It Was Written

On October 31, 2008, Satoshi Nakamoto had a vision to percentage with the sector — a protocol he called “bitcoin, a new electronic money machine that’s totally peer-to-peer, with no relied on 3rd celebration.” Due To The Fact that point an entire lot has modified, and there may be an infinite Cryptocurrency landscape with over 1,500 digital currencies indexed on data feed websites. It’s been an excessively long time on the grounds that Satoshi left the community and his vision, the white paper, and even the protocol’s evidence-of-work has been wondered multiple occasions over the years.

Also read: Privateness-Centric Coin XMR Splits Into 4 Different Monero Protocols

BCH Proponents Consider That Many Key Attributes Were Slowly Replaced With An Entire New Idea

Satoshi Nakamoto left the community in 2010, and no one has heard from the anonymous creator of bitcoin ever considering. at the moment the bitcoin group has cut up into two factions as a result of the scaling debate, that coincidently started the same year Satoshi left. Many bitcoin money supporters believe the BTC aspect of the community has never had a legitimate excuse in opposition to elevating the 1 MB block dimension by utilizing a refuse to present in at-any-price mentality. The bitcoin cash group believes this crew has been so cussed that Center supporters mainly enabled blowback to happen this prior August, permitting a big majority of customers to move their separate techniques by way of forking the protocol, sooner than the creation of the contentious Segregated Witness (Segwit). The protocol Segwit have been and still is debatable and hasn’t received so much traction even to at the present time. All of those people who once shared equivalent visions with their friends, formed some other group and rallied around the bitcoin money (BCH) community believing that BCH is the closest chain to Satoshi’s unique vision.

A slide from Dr. Peter Rizun’s speech on the way forward for Bitcoin convention presentations just one this is because folks to find Segregated Witness adverse.

Revisionism

Along all of this vitriolic energy tethered to the scaling debate, BCH supporters say there were relatively a few people who imagine “Satoshi’s imaginative and prescient doesn’t matter,” and in reality have the audacity to recommend making changes to the author’s white paper. many people will tell you the reason for that is because supporters of the Segwit chain have realized that the record does not apply to the BTC network. Sadly, BTC hardly ever resembles what’s described in Satoshi’s white paper. for instance, the co-house owners of Bitcoin.org, ‘Theymos,’ and ‘Cobra Bitcoin’ amongst others have talked about converting positive words in Satoshi’s paper. Some Other instance is how the internet portal Bitcoin.org, that’s heralded by Middle supporters as ‘reality,’ removed the cheap and fast transactions description for bitcoin off front page — the explanation for that is for the reason that description doesn’t apply to Middle network.

The owners of Bitcoin.org have discussed editing and revising the white paper on multiple events.

of course, bitcoin cash supporters were furious approximately this technique of revisionism utilized by the opposite facet of this debate. it’s ceaselessly said that “Satoshi’s vision” or the author himself doesn’t matter, however BCH supporters believe so much loose-thinking folks remember the fact that history is important. Satoshi’s words and his original white paper is terribly vital towards holding the network from being perverted. Someone who denies history doesn’t know how issues got here to be, they usually can have a significant issue dealing with the long run. The earlier is the long run’s direct causation. The very name of the white paper explains that bitcoin is a “peer-to-peer digital money device” which presentations completely no references to conserving the coin as a speculative asset, or any comparability that represents a ‘digital store of price.’ 

Bitcoin.org gets rid of positive descriptions from front web page.

Can’t Find The Money For to Ship Bitcoin? — Take Care Of It — It’s ‘Censorship Resistant’ for a certain Crew Of People  

After close to a decade, one by means of one, BCH supporters state that particular options that used to be promoted broadly among the bitcoin neighborhood had been slowly forgotten. in the early days, bitcoin was once regarded as pseudonymous and wanted tools like mixers and tumblers that might lend a hand supply anonymity. Then Again, due to the upward thrust in transaction costs such a lot bitcoin mixers and tumblers discovered the network unsustainable, and many were not able to combine coins because network fees have been each too pricey and unreliable. Additional, through the times when BTC suffered from extreme network congestion, and unconfirmed transactions spiked to well over 2 HUNDRED,000, darknet mixers and tumblers had been known as out for ‘spamming the community.’

There’s no one that can in reality argue that this meme is inappropriate.

Needless To Say while transactions were as soon as defined as less expensive than most centralized processors like Western Union? within the early days, people predicted billions of micropayments helping other folks in need and third international countries. As A Substitute throughout 2015- 2017, Middle advocates and developers said they didn’t thoughts if fees aggregated to $ONE HUNDRED in line with transaction. Core developer Gregory Maxwell said in the course of the worst period of BTC’s transaction backlog and $60 fees that he was once popping bottles of champagne.  

“In My Opinion, I Am pulling out the champagne that market behaviour is certainly generating task ranges that may pay for safety without inflation, and likewise generating fee paying backlogs had to stabilize consensus growth as the subsidy declines.” ~ Greg Maxwell Dec. 21, 2017

It didn’t subject that economically unfortunate international locations couldn’t manage to pay for to make use of the bitcoin blockchain as lengthy as the chain continued to remain ‘censorship resistant’ — Satirically this idea process results in the censorship of greater than 2/3rds of this global who have a troublesome time considering paying $0.25 cents consistent with transaction (tx) not to mention $30-60 USD in line with tx. It’s safe to mention that enjoying the emerging rate marketplace process is instantly out of a Ponzi scheme handbook where handiest the early adopters are folks that can have enough money to make use of the network advantages.

The Resurrection of Killer Apps

Middle supporters will tell you that bitcoin money proponents are misleading by using the open emblem title ‘bitcoin,’ while in truth all BCH proponents imagine they are doing is “adhering to Satoshi’s original imaginative and prescient.” in reality, the chain and the BCH community are direct derivatives of stubborn blowback. Revisionists and actors with confirmation bias have clung to arguments that make no feel and act like the arena is about to adopt a whole new infrastructure called the ‘Lightning Community.’ This Is after knowing on-chain BTC transactions aren’t very fast, and on-chain BTC transaction fees are unreliable especially during periods of demand. Unfortunately, mainstream attention that took place all over Q4 of 2017, used to be one of the worst classes of time for congestion, as BTC fees aggregated to upwards of $60 in step with transaction and confirmation times of up to per week for low fees. Then the mainstream was directed to a gadget that is not even close to fashionable adoption, even if this mainstream target market was principally at a tipping point in opposition to mass adoption.

On April FOUR, a record was published that targeted best flaws and topology concerns with the Lightning Community. the author of this have a look at was neither a bitcoin money or bitcoin middle holder.

Thankfully for mainstream adopters, BCH supporters consider bitcoin money might be there to offer the very things that had been promised within the early days that made the theory of cryptocurrencies so cool — actual rapid, affordable, and dependable transactions that can’t be censored.

This Is as a result of BCH supporters state that mainstream audiences and customers from 3rd world countries won’t be hindered from using the Cryptocurrency due to unreliable switch times and tumultuous community charges. they also won’t need to discover ways to adopt a brand new network on most sensible of the blockchain or find out about the failings of routing, watchtowers, centralized hubs, commencing channels, or holding cash on-line in limbo. No, all they’ll must be told is how to use bitcoin as it was taught for the prior nine years. Mainstream audiences also are getting a glimpse of an ‘software resurrection’ of tools that had been as soon as heralded through the BTC neighborhood. The bitcoin cash environment has resurrected mixers and tumblers, micro-tipping applications, a Bittorrent platform, social media apps like Memo and Blockpress, even the facility to ship very small fractions of BCH without a web-based connection.  

Protective Propaganda and Censorship Over Conscience and Ideas

Bitcoin cash proponents think that revisionists will proceed to check out and say that Satoshi and the white paper “doesn’t subject” and can try to revise history to make bitcoin something that it is not. Why do BCH enthusiasts consider this? Likely it is as a result of supporters of bitcoin revisionism have defended propaganda and censorship, so much that it has turn into a regimen task on some of bitcoin’s so much frequented boards. All of this for a cussed win-at-any-value mentality that wouldn’t even allow the dialogue or open debate of adding one measly megabyte to the block dimension. No, BCH proponents imagine the confusion Center supporters complain about, rests on their judgment of right and wrong, as a result of they obfuscated the protocol’s unique intentions, anonymous minions sniffed out dissenting opinions, and cried once they got the blowback (the birth of BCH) they deserved.

It’s protected to mention that Satoshi’s imaginative and prescient can be remembered, and his white paper will stay protected from adjustments. However, BCH supporters needless to say the revisionists can even be known for being intellectually dishonest and as sophists trying to keep bitcoin hostage. Bitcoin money enthusiasts believe that when August 1, 2017 bitcoin’s antagonistic takeover has ended, and there’s now an avenue to be had to continue following Satoshi’s vision. 

What do you’re thinking that about the idea that most BCH supporters believe that Center proponents have revised historical past and feature tried to lessen Satoshi’s vision and even alter the white paper? How do you take into account that this historical past? let us understand in the comments underneath.

That Is an Op-ed article. The reviews expressed on this article are the author’s personal. Bitcoin.com doesn’t endorse nor support perspectives, reviews or conclusions drawn in this put up. Bitcoin.com isn’t answerable for or responsible for any content, accuracy or quality throughout the Op-ed article. Readers must do their own due diligence sooner than taking any movements related to the content. Bitcoin.com is not accountable, right away or not directly, for any damage or loss brought about or speculated to be because of or in connection with the use of or reliance on any knowledge in this Op-ed article.

Images by the use of Shutterstock, the long run of Bitcoin Conference, Bitcoin.com, Pixabay, and Wiki-commons.

Have You noticed our widget provider? It permits someone to embed informative Bitcoin.com widgets on their web site. They’re lovely cool and you can customize through size and colour. The widgets come with value-only, value and graph, value and information, forum threads. There’s also a widget dedicated to our mining pool, showing our hash energy.

The publish Remembering Satoshi’s Vision — As It Was Written gave the impression first on Bitcoin Information.

Steemit: @recentnews

Telegram: Vip Crypto Signals

Website: Vip Crypto Signals

#bitcoin #cryptocurrency #ripple #xrp #tradebot #ethereum #news #tron #litecoin

[papaculture]

Ivor the Engine

There is a moment in most parents’ lives when their children discover trains. Having been a budding trainspotter myself — and briefly, if less glamorously, a bus-spotter — I’m at a loss to fully explain the magic that things on wheels possess. To be honest, I’m still slightly magicked.

Most magical of all trains is, of course, the steam engine. With its belly of fire and snout of steam (the mechanics of which appear reasonably and appealingly explicable to a young ‘un), it’s the closest most kids will get to coming face-to-face with a mythical beast.

Trains are also all about rules. While cars and trucks are unwieldy and unpredictable, capable of going anywhere, a train (and to a lesser extent, a bus) is confined to a fixed course. I suspect there is a comfort in that.

Signals and junctions and forks and turntables provide kids with a whole language of control. As a six-year-old, I used to plot extravagant courses with marker pen and butcher’s paper and run my Matchbox trains to a strict timetable. Clearly, I had issues.

Thomas the Brown Noser

For Child One, the train obsession really took off when she was two. It sprang from her early love of books. We found a beautiful volume of Thomas The Tank Engine stories in a Chapel Street op shop, which tickled her bibliophilia and my nostalgia bone. While One enjoyed the stories (except the distressing one where Henry was bricked into a tunnel), it didn’t take me long to realise the Thomas stories are pretty seriously unpleasant.

Leaving aside the issues around gender representation (the later books attempt to redress this somewhat, but even then it’s often a female engine a) causing trouble or b) trying to prove she’s almost as good as the boys), there’s a real well of nastiness to Thomas.

The engines are constantly bickering and attempting to “pay each other out”. Their sole purpose to is to become “really useful engines” — rather literal cogs in the machine. The Fat Controller is a cruel headmaster figure, frequently delivering extreme scolding and punishments.

If you went to an English boarding school in the 1950s, it would likely feel grimly familiar. Likewise if you went on to work in a bullying corporate environment. I quite enjoyed a recent theory that argued that the Isle of Sodor is actually set in a dystopian parallel universe.

Ivor the Engine

Looking to cater to One’s new obsession with steam, I remembered Ivor The Engine. As a child, I’d had two Ivor books — The Elephant and The Dragon. Written by Oliver Postgate and illustrated by Peter Firmin (the duo behind Bagpuss, Noggin the Nog and Clangers), these lyrical tales are a perfect antidote to Thomas’s brutal world of bureaucracy, backbiting and workaholism.

In one of the stories, Ivor and his driver take the day off to go fishing. When Thomas tries his hand at angling, it nearly kills him and he learns to keep his mind on the job.

Ivor doesn’t have a face or a voice. He doesn’t even have a name (Ivor is a nickname because “the  Locomotive of the Merioneth and Llantisilly Rail Traction Company Limited… was a long name for a little engine”). But through his whistled interactions with driver (and interpreter) Jones the Steam, he is given more depth and humanity than any of Awdry’s trains.

Ivor lives in rail shed attached to a railway in the top left-hand corner of Wales, a branch line that is described as being neither long nor important. When he proves himself useful, it’s as a member of the local community rather than through ruthless efficiency. He helps lure pigeons from a villager’s roof, assists a wounded elephant, saves lost sheep and runs packages to the needy up and down his branch line. When hunters threaten the lives of a local family of foxes, Ivor and Jones effect a clever escape.

While Thomas and “friends” are in constant competition to prove themselves the fastest, prettiest or most efficient worker, Ivor instead takes pleasure from his surroundings, his friends and, well, just being alive. There's mindfulness for you.

POOP POOP POOPETY-POOP went Ivor’s whistle as they rounded the bend above Llaniog. He wasn’t whistling a warning. He wasn’t whistling a signal. He was whistling for the joy of being alive and steaming, for the joy of seeing the cows in the fields and the sheep on the hills and the big wheel of the Pit spinning in the sunshine.

I don’t think it’s a stretch to see a touch of Dylan Thomas’s Under Milkwood to the writing here, which embraces its Welsh setting through a conversational style peppered with colourful turns of phrase. Even if a parent isn’t bold enough to attempt a Welsh accent, these books are a joy to read aloud.

Rail Against The Machine

Bureaucracy is often the enemy here. In the first story, Ivor decides he wants to join the local choir, so Dai the Station has to check if it’s against regulations. (Head office ultimately sign off on it.) In The Dragon (star Idris is “not one of your lumping great fairy-tale dragons… [but] a small trim, heraldic Welsh dragon, glowing red-hot and smiling”), Dai tries to force Ivor’s scaly new friend out of his firebox and into the “proper container for carrying livestock”. Later, Idris is forced to flee from the railway after an “investigation” is launched into his existence.

“NO!” cried Idris. “No! Dragons are mythical! No, I must not be investigated! No! No! No!”

Thankfully, the local community come together to shield Idris from the excoriating gaze of authority.

Most frighteningly, Ivor himself is threatened when the owners of his railway decide to sell off to a national company that plans to replace him with a diesel. (Not quite as frightening as when Thomas’s cronies are threatened with the scrapyard.) His salvation comes not by proving himself a vital asset to the functioning of the marketplace, but rather as repayment for his past kindnesses.

There is a joy and a magic to these tales that doesn’t undermine the background texture of social realism — the mines, the gasworks, the fish and chip shop. Thomas might depict society as it often is, but Postgate and Firmin offer a glimpse of community as it should be. People who delight in their interactions, who tolerate eccentricity and who find pleasure in their work but are not crushed by the weight of material aspirations.

Compassion and Contentment

The real star, Ivor aside, is Jones the Steam. He is a man in his element, happy in himself and his work and seemingly wanting nothing more. He doesn’t aspire to be a station master or to run his own railway. Although he enjoys performing his errands, Jones’s greatest pleasure is making his morning cup of tea from Ivor’s boiler.

He is compassionate and sensitive, always keen to help, and blind to his own quirks. It’s left to us to decide whether Ivor has an intelligence (I think he does) or whether Jones merely ascribes one to him. Other characters rib him for talking to Ivor, but affectionately so. There is no cruelty here. Only once do we see Jones lose his temper, when dealing with a truculent elephant.

I first encountered these stories as books, without realising they were sprung from a television series that originally screened in the 1950s and 1960s. (The books are far from the usual afterthought cash in, each story lovingly rewritten and reillustrated by the original team.) 

The colour episodes are available on DVD and were some of the first television we showed to Child One. There is an enchanting simplicity to the cut-out animation and a leisurely pace to the storytelling that makes them feel very much like a picture book brought to gentle life.

Postgate does most of the voices himself. He is a perennially comforting, sedate presence. As Charlie Brooker once wrote: “there is no more calming sound in the world than the voice of Oliver Postgate. With him narrating your life, you'd feel cosy and safe even during a gas explosion. It floated above all these stories, that voice; wound its way through them.”

The episodes are also available (in pretty terrible quality) on YouTube and, thanks to Postgate’s tender narration, make for delightful audiobooks if you leave the screen off. By a stroke of luck, I recently found a copy of ten of the stories on vinyl.

BOOKS

The Ivor books are all out of print, but readily available via eBay or Abe’s Books.

Ivor The Engine Storybook (published 1982). This is the perfect starter, containing four tales. The First Story, Snowdrifts, The Elephant and The Dragon. Hardbound. Each story takes about 10 minutes to read.

The First Story

Snowdrifts

The Elephant

The Dragon

Ivor’s Birthday

The Foxes

All released in hardback in the early 1990s.

DVD

The Complete Ivor The Engine (Universal Pictures, 2006, 186 minutes)

All the colour episodes of the classic Sixties and Seventies children's series. Enjoy once again the adventures of Welsh steam engine Ivor, Jones the Steam and the good people at the Merioneth and Llantisilly Rail Traction Company - not to mention the dragon and his chestnut barrow!

AUDIO

Ivor The Engine And Pogles Wood by Vernon Elliott

Not sure how much the kids will enjoy this, but it’s pretty delightful. Woodwind and brass score, which (like the sound effects from the TV show) has the benefit of being easily imitated by non-musical parents

MERCHANDISE

Not a lot. There’s a board game I haven’t played, some resin models of Ivor and — perhaps most tempting — a plush Idris the Dragon (not baby safe). Etsy has a few handmade treasures.

THE SHORT STUFF

Age and stage: 2+

Gender stuff: not great. There's a female vet, female shopkeepers and a batty old woman or two, but that's about it. I tend to read the dragon as female, but he's described as being male.

Drama: minimal, with few moments of tension. When younger, Child One was only distressed by the fox hunting sequence in The Foxes (spoiler: the fox lives).

Outdated bits: leaving aside the old school tech and above-mentioned gender issues, it's hard not to feel uneasy about the stereotyped Indian elephant keeper. There's otherwise a distinct lack of diversity.

Themes: community, individuality, compassion, anti-bureaucracy, mindfulness, tolerance, contentment, mythology, the wonder of steam.

[vipcryptosignalscom-blog]

Remembering Satoshi’s Imaginative And Prescient — Because It Was Once Written

New Post has been published on https://vipcryptosignals.com/bitcoin-news/remembering-satoshis-imaginative-and-prescient-because-it-was-once-written-3/

Remembering Satoshi’s Imaginative And Prescient — Because It Was Once Written

On October 31, 2008, Satoshi Nakamoto had a vision to percentage with the sector — a protocol he referred to as “bitcoin, a new digital money gadget that’s fully peer-to-peer, with no trusted 3rd birthday party.” Considering The Fact That that point a whole lot has changed, and there may be a limiteless Cryptocurrency landscape with over 1,500 digital currencies indexed on data feed websites. It’s been an excessively long time given that Satoshi left the group and his imaginative and prescient, the white paper, and even the protocol’s proof-of-work has been questioned a couple of times over the years.

Additionally read: Privateness-Centric Coin XMR Splits Into 4 Other Monero Protocols

BCH Proponents Consider That Many Key Attributes Were Slowly Replaced With A Whole New Thought

Satoshi Nakamoto left the neighborhood in 2010, and no person has heard from the nameless writer of bitcoin ever on the grounds that. on the second the bitcoin community has cut up into two factions because of the scaling debate, that coincidently started the same year Satoshi left. Many bitcoin money supporters consider the BTC side of the neighborhood has never had a valid excuse in opposition to elevating the 1 MB block dimension by utilizing a refuse to present in at-any-cost mentality. The bitcoin cash community believes this staff has been so stubborn that Center supporters basically enabled blowback to happen this past August, permitting a big majority of users to go their separate techniques by way of forking the protocol, sooner than the introduction of the contentious Segregated Witness (Segwit). The protocol Segwit had been and still is debatable and hasn’t gained so much traction even to this present day. All of these people who once shared an identical visions with their friends, formed any other community and rallied across the bitcoin money (BCH) community believing that BCH is the closest chain to Satoshi’s authentic vision.

A slide from Dr. Peter Rizun’s speech on the way forward for Bitcoin convention presentations only one it’s because other folks to find Segregated Witness adverse.

Revisionism

Along all of this vitriolic energy tethered to the scaling debate, BCH supporters say there had been quite a couple of individuals who believe “Satoshi’s vision doesn’t matter,” and actually have the audacity to propose making adjustments to the creator’s white paper. many individuals will inform you the rationale for this is as a result of supporters of the Segwit chain have discovered that the record doesn’t follow to the BTC network. Sadly, BTC infrequently resembles what is described in Satoshi’s white paper. as an example, the co-house owners of Bitcoin.org, ‘Theymos,’ and ‘Cobra Bitcoin’ among others have mentioned changing positive words in Satoshi’s paper. Some Other example is how the web portal Bitcoin.org, that is heralded through Core supporters as ‘fact,’ got rid of the cheap and fast transactions description for bitcoin off front page — the rationale for this is since the description does not apply to Center network.

The house owners of Bitcoin.org have discussed editing and revising the white paper on a couple of occasions.

in fact, bitcoin cash supporters had been livid about this system of revisionism utilized by the other aspect of this debate. it is often stated that “Satoshi’s vision” or the creator himself doesn’t matter, however BCH supporters imagine so much loose-considering individuals keep in mind that history is vital. Satoshi’s words and his unique white paper is very important towards keeping the community from being perverted. Someone who denies history doesn’t know how things got here to be, and they will have a significant issue dealing with the long run. The prior is the future’s direct causation. The very name of the white paper explains that bitcoin is a “peer-to-peer electronic money machine” which shows absolutely no references to holding the coin as a speculative asset, or any comparison that represents a ‘digital retailer of worth.’ 

Bitcoin.org gets rid of certain descriptions from the front web page.

Can’t Come Up With The Money For to Ship Bitcoin? — Deal With It — It’s ‘Censorship Resistant’ for a definite Staff Of People  

After as regards to a decade, one through one, BCH supporters state that specific options that used to be promoted broadly among the bitcoin neighborhood had been slowly forgotten. in the early days, bitcoin used to be considered pseudonymous and needed equipment like mixers and tumblers that would assist supply anonymity. Alternatively, because of the upward push in transaction prices most bitcoin mixers and tumblers discovered the network unsustainable, and plenty of have been not able to mix cash as a result of network charges have been each too dear and unreliable. Additional, during the occasions whilst BTC suffered from extreme network congestion, and unconfirmed transactions spiked to smartly over 200,000, darknet mixers and tumblers were called out for ‘spamming the community.’

There’s no one that can truly argue that this meme is irrelevant.

Needless To Say when transactions have been once described as less expensive than such a lot centralized processors like Western Union? in the early days, people expected billions of micropayments serving to people in want and third international nations. As An Alternative throughout 2015- 2017, Core advocates and developers mentioned they didn’t thoughts if fees aggregated to $ONE HUNDRED in line with transaction. Middle developer Gregory Maxwell stated during the worst length of BTC’s transaction backlog and $60 charges that he used to be popping bottles of champagne.  

“For My Part, I Am pulling out the champagne that market behaviour is certainly generating job levels that can pay for safety with out inflation, and likewise generating rate paying backlogs had to stabilize consensus progress because the subsidy declines.” ~ Greg Maxwell Dec. 21, 2017

It didn’t topic that economically unlucky countries couldn’t find the money for to make use of the bitcoin blockchain as long as the chain persevered to remain ‘censorship resistant’ — Sarcastically this thought procedure results in the censorship of greater than 2/3rds of this international who have a hard time taking into consideration paying $0.25 cents in keeping with transaction (tx) not to mention $30-60 USD according to tx. It’s protected to say that taking part in the emerging charge market process is instantly out of a Ponzi scheme manual where handiest the early adopters are individuals who can find the money for to use the community advantages.

The Resurrection of Killer Apps

Middle supporters will let you know that bitcoin cash proponents are deceptive through the use of the open emblem title ‘bitcoin,’ when in reality all BCH proponents believe they’re doing is “adhering to Satoshi’s original imaginative and prescient.” actually, the chain and the BCH neighborhood are direct derivatives of cussed blowback. Revisionists and actors with affirmation bias have clung to arguments that make no experience and act like the sector is set to adopt a whole new infrastructure known as the ‘Lightning Network.’ That Is after figuring out on-chain BTC transactions don’t seem to be very fast, and on-chain BTC transaction charges are unreliable particularly in periods of demand. Unfortunately, mainstream consideration that happened all the way through THIS AUTUMN of 2017, was once one in every of the worst sessions of time for congestion, as BTC charges aggregated to upwards of $60 in keeping with transaction and confirmation instances of up to per week for low fees. Then the mainstream was directed to a machine that is not even with reference to fashionable adoption, even though this mainstream target market used to be principally at a tipping point against mass adoption.

On April FOUR, a file was once revealed that designated best flaws and topology considerations with the Lightning Network. the writer of this observe was neither a bitcoin money or bitcoin core holder.

Fortunately for mainstream adopters, BCH supporters consider bitcoin money will probably be there to supply the very things that have been promised in the early days that made the speculation of cryptocurrencies so cool — actual rapid, reasonable, and dependable transactions that can’t be censored.

That Is as a result of BCH supporters state that mainstream audiences and users from 3rd international nations received’t be hindered from the usage of the Cryptocurrency due to unreliable switch occasions and tumultuous community fees. they also won’t need to learn to undertake a brand new network on most sensible of the blockchain or find out about the issues of routing, watchtowers, centralized hubs, establishing channels, or preserving cash online in limbo. No, all they’ll have to be told is how to make use of bitcoin as it was once taught for the past 9 years. Mainstream audiences are also getting a glimpse of an ‘application resurrection’ of equipment that were as soon as heralded by means of the BTC neighborhood. The bitcoin cash surroundings has resurrected mixers and tumblers, micro-tipping applications, a Bittorrent platform, social media apps like Memo and Blockpress, even the power to send very small fractions of BCH with out an internet connection.  

Protecting Propaganda and Censorship Over Judgment Of Right And Wrong and Concepts

Bitcoin money proponents think that revisionists will continue to take a look at and say that Satoshi and the white paper “doesn’t matter” and can attempt to revise historical past to make bitcoin something that it isn’t. Why do BCH lovers consider this? Most Probably it’s as a result of supporters of bitcoin revisionism have defended propaganda and censorship, such a lot that it has turn into a routine task on a few of bitcoin’s so much frequented boards. All of this for a cussed win-at-any-price mentality that wouldn’t even permit the discussion or open debate of including one measly megabyte to the block dimension. No, BCH proponents imagine the confusion Middle supporters whinge approximately, rests on their conscience, as a result of they obfuscated the protocol’s original intentions, nameless minions sniffed out dissenting evaluations, and cried after they were given the blowback (the start of BCH) they deserved.

It’s safe to mention that Satoshi’s vision might be remembered, and his white paper will stay secure from adjustments. Then Again, BCH supporters remember that the revisionists can even be recognized for being intellectually cheating and as sophists attempting to keep bitcoin hostage. Bitcoin money fanatics believe that once August 1, 2017 bitcoin’s hostile takeover has ended, and there is now an avenue to be had to proceed following Satoshi’s imaginative and prescient. 

What do you think approximately the speculation that almost all BCH supporters believe that Center proponents have revised historical past and feature tried to reduce Satoshi’s vision and even adjust the white paper? How do you take into account that this historical past? allow us to understand in the comments below.

That Is an Op-ed article. The critiques expressed in this article are the writer’s own. Bitcoin.com does not recommend nor enhance views, evaluations or conclusions drawn on this submit. Bitcoin.com isn’t accountable for or responsible for any content, accuracy or quality throughout the Op-ed article. Readers must do their very own due diligence earlier than taking any actions related to the content. Bitcoin.com isn’t accountable, right away or indirectly, for any damage or loss brought about or purported to be as a result of or in reference to the use of or reliance on any knowledge in this Op-ed article.

Pictures by means of Shutterstock, the long run of Bitcoin Convention, Bitcoin.com, Pixabay, and Wiki-commons.

Have You Ever observed our widget service? It permits someone to embed informative Bitcoin.com widgets on their website online. They’re beautiful cool and you can customize by size and colour. The widgets include worth-only, price and graph, worth and news, discussion board threads. There’s additionally a widget devoted to our mining pool, showing our hash power.

The post Remembering Satoshi’s Imaginative And Prescient — As It Used To Be Written gave the impression first on Bitcoin News.

Steemit: @recentnews

Telegram: Vip Crypto Signals

Website: Vip Crypto Signals

#bitcoin #cryptocurrency #ripple #xrp #tradebot #ethereum #news #tron #litecoin