#Made a Machine by Describing the Landscape

[headspace-hotel]

I will never stop talking about how messed up it is that in North America, short, mown grass surfaces in outdoor urban/suburban environments are seen everywhere and feel right, intuitive, and natural, when plant communities that could be described as "low grassy turf" straight-up did not exist in most of North America prior to European colonization.

Everywhere millions of acres of neglected curbs, swaths of ground separating fast food places or gas stations, spaces surrounding churches, roadsides, ditches, parks, yards, are maintained using carbon-emitting machinery as flat grass surfaces for reasons so obvious to us, we've forgotten them.

It is a labor-intensive, wasteful, effortful ritual of contempt and neglect for the land. A space of mowed grass between a gas station and a road is so utterly empty, so utterly identical to every other space of mowed grass, that the human mind doesn't even process it as "something," it's just space. No one would rest here, no one would sit here, no one uses this space, there is nothing beautiful or life-giving or important or worthy of conscious register here. It may not even occur to the mind that there is "something" in between the gas station and the road.

So many thousands and thousands of acres of space are nothingified like this. Even just a single square foot of space can be so RICH and exploding with life, if you love it. If you tend to it and give it your heart. How much land is never glanced at, hardly walked upon, except to have a lawn mower driven over it. How much life-giving habitat razed into a cruel, butchered parody of a murkily remembered European landscape.

Think how priceless a tiny little garden, a patch of sunbeams in a forest, a small trickle of stream, a single mossy log, can be! A person in communion with nature can love a place by the square inch! No place on Earth ever was "nothing!"

But all around me I see the flat carpets maintained by machines. I see so many precious square inches of Earth ignored and treated as nothing instead of loved and listened to closely and cared for.

How many strawberries could have grown here? How many little mushrooms could have popped out of this soil? How many kinds of lichen and moss could have fit on a medium-size boulder here, before it was all destroyed and made into nothing but a surface to be run over with a lawn mower?

[theminecraftbee]

alright, so I’m gonna pass out and PROBABLY be asleep for when the vote rolls over unless I set an alarm. so, let me make one last propaganda post, this time of a different ilk!

hi, I have heard the campaigning or seen his posts and am curious. who’s joe hills and how do I watch him?

hi and welcome! whether you be an ally or an enemy or anything else, I hope you stick around after the voting is done! joe hills is a very cool guy and I hope you like watching him. he’s one of the hermitcraft creators, described as the “original new guy”, as he was the first new hermit added in season one. he’s been here for that decade since! joe was added to be a “wild card” and plays that role well, often having a reputation for doing weird things. when it comes to his in-game build style, he’s a big fan of scale models of things, as well as helping out on any and all community projects!

joe’s hermitcraft videos tend to be much lower-key than some of the others, normally with minimal-to-no music. they’re largely recorded on stream, though they’re edited in such a way that they don’t feel like stream clips, but more like “he uses his stream to film video clips”. he enjoys wordplay, intentionally taking storylines and ideas in unintended directions, and marching to the beat of his own drum. if you’re used to the pacing of people like grian (or, for that matter, a dsmp stream), joe’s style can take time to get used to, but if you miss the lower-key days of let’s plays, he’s a great option for exactly that!

this season, he’s making a giant model pinball machine for his megabase! it has pixel art of the jwst deep field on it, and will have scale recreations of pinball parts inside. he also participated in the king ren storyline, has built elvira’s house of horrors (and changed the landscaping to match the seasons twice), and participated in the crossover! give it a shot!

joe streams five nights a week, with his days off being tuesday and wednesday. his usual stream start time is 9:30 PM EST. however, he usually has an afternoon hhh bonus stream on mondays (around 2 EST), a morning crafting stream on wednesdays with cleo (around 9:30 AM EST), and recently, a thursday morning bonus stream with his sister, quinn hills, a musician (also around 9:30 AM EST). he also does other bonus streams depending on the day and his energy. as you may be able to see from this schedule, he’s streaming like, all the time, so feel free to stop in! he streams simultaneously on twitch and youtube, so choose whichever platform is easiest.

joe hills streams are of basically whatever he needs to do on hermitcraft; they can best be described as “hermitcraft behind the scenes”. they’re also weird but in a specific, ritualistic way. his face camera will get bigger and more transparent for every 20 dollars in tips. the first time this happens it can be disconcerting but you do adjust pretty quickly, and it’s part of the charm to me! additionally, he has specific songs he plays during his streams, from the album he and his sibling made! they’re often parody songs, but there are also several original ones, and they’re all original lyrics and recordings. you’ll hear “lay your head down and dream” specifically after the first two songs while he’s setting up; that’s effectively his nightly stream’s theme song. you’ll also hear the songs during hydration breaks.

if anything you’ve seen us say about joe intrigues you, I strongly recommend you give him a shot! I’d recommend either a nightly stream to get the sense of the “average joe hills content”, if you’re considering becoming a regular, or to check out his first episode from this season to get a good sense of what a joe hills episode looks like.

we’d love to have you around, whether you did the right thing and VOTE JOE HILLS or not! but, uh, still vote for him. for me, okay?

[viviennevermillion]

Garden of Lights

notes: for once, dottore decided to be romantic. I had this idea ever since I found out what the inside of the ruin golem looked like. dottore is possessing my brain at this point.

this work is part of the #marry a harbinger event

contains: dottore x gn!reader

prompt: the proposal

warnings: none

Out of the many words you associated with il Dottore, "romantic" had never been one of them. Many would describe him as cold or cruel. In the presence of others he seemed indifferent towards you. Yet what Dottore lacked in obvious displays of affection, he made up for in companionship.

His love for you showed in the little things he did. How, after a long day spent in his lab he'd join you on the sofa, reading a book with you and gently leaning against you as you could feel his tense muscles relax. Or that he was always looking out for your health; something he had never done for anyone else. How he went out of his way to buy you new pancakes at the bakery across the street when he burnt the ones he tried to make you for breakfast.

You'd exit your shared bedroom, still tired and talk to him while standing in the doorframe. "What's that smell?", you raised your eyebrows. "The usual", Dottore replied, calmly putting out the fire in the pan. "Arson?" "Breakfast."

"Hmm", you'd reply and go back to bed.

But today was different. The two of you were up early, as you were on a "business" trip in Sumeru and Dottore insisted he had something to show you. "Something" apparently required a very long hike towards Devantaka Mountain.

"Are we there yet?", you whined, trying to catch up with him. "What are you, 5?", he teased you and gave you an amused grin, "does a little walking make you this exhausted?" "If you turn it into half a marathon by having the speed of a feral Rishboland Tiger, yes it does", you sighed and Dottore laughed but slowed down instinctively to make sure you wouldn't overexert yourself. He'd let you hold his hand and decided as much as he wanted to get to the point of why you went on this journey in the first place, he'd let you take a look at the scenery and would try to make the hike enjoyable for you.

You eventually arrived at the giant Ruin Golem that decorated the landscape of the mountain. "Here we are", Dottore said proudly, "almost set this thing loose on the capital in my Akademiya days....ah, good times." You gave him a concerned look as he entered the giant machine with you. "Is this safe?", you asked, "like, a normal person's understanding of safe?" "Don't worry, I'm not going to activate it...", he said, "...not today at least." He guided you through the tunnel entrance until the two of you arrived in a huge dark space inside of the Ruin Golem.

Dottore used a switch on the side of the tunnel.

You suddenly saw the whole interior of the Ruin Golem light up. There were hundreds of small lamps that looked like they all had been attached to the metallic hall by hand. It was a beautiful sight, looking like some sort of industrial light garden. Did Dottore do this for you? This must have taken a ton of work....

You marveled at the fairy lights decorating the rusty stairs and walls and then turned to Dottore who had taken off his mask and was looking at you with an uncharacteristically gentle smile that you didn't get to see too often. You walked towards him and wrapped your arms around him, pressing your cheek against his chest. "This is beautiful, Dottore...", you smiled at him and kissed him lovingly, running your hand through his hair which you knew was an action he loved.

"Want to dance or something?", he asked casually but there was a hint of nervousness in his voice. Likely because this was so untypical of him that he didn't want you to tease him. "You're so romantic today", you remarked in surprise but took his hand nevertheless and thus his offer for a dance. "We can also terrorize a village with the giant robot if that's more on brand", he rolled his eyes and wrapped an arm around your waist. "Let's not do that", you chuckled and Dottore used what looked like a small remote. Music started playing in the background and he swayed to the music with you. He accidentally stepped on your feet a couple of times. "Do you have any experience with dancing?", you asked him. "I read a book, does that count?" "It does not."

You chuckled and tried to teach him a little until he was looking into your eyes, concentrating on the dance. You wondered what was going on in his mind right now, his facial expression was unreadable but he looked like he was analyzing the way you made him feel. He looked a little puzzled so you decided to test his reaction by giving him a soft kiss onto his lips. He didn't react at first. He just kept staring at your face.

Then he leaned in for another kiss, pressing his lips to yours and kissing you slowly but passionately. He pulled you closer to his chest and sighed into the kiss while his hand was caressing your cheek.

"So", you inquired after parting from him, "what's the occasion? As much as I adore all this, you have to admit it's a little unlike you." He shrugged. "I suppose you're right. Well, there's something I've been meaning to ask you."

He reached into the pocket of his coat to pull out a small box. He opened it to reveal an intricately designed silver ring to you. He didn't kneel down but it was still evident what he was trying to do. "I made it in my lab", he explained and looked into your eyes, "we've been together for a while now and I thought we might as well." He tried to play it cool as he was obviously unfamiliar with a situation like this and didn't really know how to approach asking you for your hand in marriage. "Will you marry me, y/n?", he asked quietly.

You nodded with tears in your eyes and pulled him into a tight hug, burying your face in his neck. Oh great, emotion, what do I do now?, Dottore thought and awkwardly patted your head. He put the ring onto your finger and gave you a forehead kiss.

"Thank you", he then said, avoiding eye contact, "for understanding me. For accepting me the way I am. And for letting me into your heart even though I'm...not easy to love." You cupped his cheek and smiled at him as you pressed another kiss to his lips. "You were an aquired taste, I admit that", you chuckled and ran a hand through his soft hair, "but I assure you, by now loving you is one of the easiest things for me to do."

You smiled down at the ring and ran your finger over it, reaching for the gemstone on it. Dottore swatted your hand away. "Careful that's the button for the scalpel."

You raised your eyebrows at him. "You included a scalpel function in my engagement ring?", you stared at him for a moment, "nevermind, why am I surprised, it's you." "Think of it as a self-defense mechanism", he shrugged.

You pulled him close again and let him hold you in his arms. "What now?", you asked quietly. "Well, we could stay here for a while. Or watch the stars on top of the machine", he squeezed your hand and grinned at you, "or we could-" "We're not activating this thing, Dottore."

"If that's your wish", he sighed and kissed your forehead, "can we use a ruin machine as our flower girl? Machines have a way better aim than children. Or Columbina for that matter." "Fine", you shook your head and leaned your forehead against his shoulder, "I love you, crazy."

Dottore chuckled. "Love you too."

[cluelessatthispoint]

Lovely Surprise

Engineer x Reader (fluff, romantic pairing) lightly mentions sex but nothing happens.

~~~~~~~~

The drive through New Mexico was a long and boring one. The dust and dirt mixed with the occasional odd misshapen tree were the only things to decorate the barren landscape. The air conditioner in the truck sputtered off and on multiple times during the ride much to your dismay. Sweat would gather on your forehead, only to be cooled by the occasional blast of ice-cold air. It was a very welcomed feeling. You were used to the heat, having grown up in the midwest the heat was no stranger to you. Off in the distance, you could see the roof of one of the battle-worn buildings.

"About damn time", you could feel a Cheshire-like grin spread across your face.

It's been about two months since you've last seen your boyfriend; Dell. Two long months and not so much as a phone call or letter. Whenever he would go off to work he would spend the next week in advance before leaving to spoil you with kisses, flowers, little do-dads that he made, and romantic dates. It was nice but unnerving. He always acted like it would be the last time he ever saw you again. Something about the way he looked at you, with these sad, adoring eyes. The last time you asked him about his job he shut up tighter than a clam and changed the subject. It hurt you to see Dell get this worried about a job.

At the last Harvest Festival that you and Dell went to he brought along some of his friends from work. They were nice, kind of off-putting but nice. During the party, you and Scout really hit it off. He reminded you of one of your younger cousins. Ever since then you and Scout had been keeping in contact with each other. Dell didn't mind one bit, as long as Scout knew that you were already in a relationship that was fine by him.

The sound of the air conditioner rattling brought you back from the little trip down memory lane. You eyed the dashboard with dismay; thank goodness your boyfriend was a genius with machines. Before making the over 300-mile trip by car Scout made sure to tell everyone in advance that you are coming to visit. Everyone except Dell that is. With Valentine's day literally around the corner, you knew that you had to visit. After driving past the first outcrop of rocks jutting almost unnaturally from the ground you could see Scout and Demoman waiting for you.

You pulled up next to them and rolled down the window, "Ey, any of you folks need a ride somewhere?"

With a laugh, you opened the car door and stepped out onto what could only be described as "hellish heck".

"Long time no see! It's great to see ya again!"

Nodding along to that statement you pulled both the Scotsman and the Bostonian into a hug.

" I agree! It's been quite a while since I saw ye, how've ya been lass?

Pulling away from the hug you looked up to meet Tavish's eyes.

"I've been doing well Demo," you looked around, the building in front of you definitely has seen some better days.

"So tell me, where's my stubborn boyfriend at?"

Demo rolled his eyes- well eye, in what looked to be a playful manner. Scout bouncing on his toes, grabbed your arm before Demon could say anything and dragged you off in the direction of what you hoped to be your boyfriend's workspace. The walls zipped by at the speed the both of you were going. Finally, you got to a door that looked most like the one that Dell could have.

"Well, first off lemme tell ya, he has been down in the dumps for days now thinking that he's gonna miss being with you for Valentine's day. So, your gonna walk in there- all confident like and say something funny."

"Thanks, Scout I really appreciate it, but I think I got it."

Scout turned his head to the side and mumbled into his palm. from that close proximity you could see the tips of his ears turning red.

"If it makes you feel any better I will walk in there with all the confidence that I can muster, and afterward I'll bake everyone something sweet."

As you turned to the door Scout mumbled some more.

" What was that Scout? I couldn't hear you?"

He walked further down the corridor leading to what appeared to be the rec room.

"Yeah, I'll take a rain check on dat one! You are gonna be too busy and too tired to leave his workshop at all today." With a cheeky wink, he sped off.

You could feel your face flush and your stomach turning in happy nervous knots. You don't doubt Jeremy's words one bit. With a stifled breath, you knocked on the door. the only sign that you've been heard was a tired voice from within.

"Come in."

You opened the door slowly and walked in shutting the door behind you. Hunched over a desk facing against the wall was your boyfriend. The smell of engines and gasoline filled your nose. It wasn't a bad smell, it was one of the smells that you'd associated with Dell the moment you met.

He was sitting on a roller chair in a way that you knew wouldn't be good for his back. You silently made your way over to him and tapped his shoulder. Putting down whatever he was working on he spun to face you. Quickly and without thinking you sat yourself down on his lap and kissed his cheek.

"Well hello handsome"

Dell was too stunned to even speak, his mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. It was like he was trying to form words but couldn't find the right ones.

"You-you came all the way out here?! what? wha-

To gently shut him up you pressed your lips against his. With a gentle sweetness, he began to kiss back. The smell of his deodorant and sweat filled your nose. Pulling away he stared into your eyes. Confusion and adoration set upon his features, you hoped to see more of the latter later on.

"Well, I'll be darned If this isn't the best Valentine's day surprise I don't know what is."

Large gloved hands grasped at your sides, and gently they started rubbing up and down your back sending little electric shocks and pleasurable tingles down your spine.

"I missed you, Dell,"

"I missed you too Darlin."

[handeaux]

Overwhelmed By Advertising? The Battle For Cincinnati Consumers Has Raged For More Than A Century

Depending on the source, it is estimated that each American is confronted by 6,000 to 10,000 advertising messages every single day. That immersive media onslaught swelled as we started carrying little video screens around wherever we go, but invasive and obnoxious marketing has bothered Cincinnatians for much more than a century.

For example, on 20 July 1871, a correspondent for the Cincinnati Times related an enjoyable voyage he had undertaken down the Ohio River. After praising the service of his riverboat’s staff, the remarkable scenery along the river, the picturesque little town he floated by, the writer registered one complaint, about a cliff near the town of Hanging Rock:

“High up on the face of this wall of white sandstone, hundreds of feet beyond the reach of a scaling ladder, I noticed a patent medicine advertisement. It was penciled there by a man let down with ropes from above, and the letters are large enough to be read from the deck of a steamer two miles distant. I was sorry to see this defacement. It is bad enough that all the fences throughout the land should be made to lie for patent medicines without debasing the hill-sides with such marking. I suppose that when the ‘chemical affinity necessary to be the motor of some immense flying machine’ shall be discovered, some enterprising patent medicine man will be plastering the face of the moon with some of his ‘wonderful remedies.’”

If only the poor man knew what lay ahead! Even in the 1870s, almost every vertical surface in Cincinnati was slathered with posters, placards and bills advertising shows at the local theaters, patent medicines and political candidates. Cincinnati was the center of the bill-posting world. For one thing, Cincinnati was among the top printing cities of the United States, with the mighty Strobridge Lithographing Company dominating the poster industry.

Also, Billboard magazine was headquartered here in Cincinnati. What we now think of as a music magazine, Billboard was founded in Cincinnati as a trade publication for men who posted “bills” on walls. From its first issue in 1894, Billboard covered the entertainment industry, such as circuses, fairs and burlesque shows, and also created a mail service for travelling entertainers. Initially it covered the advertising and bill-posting trade and was known as Billboard Advertising.

Far from inspiring civic pride, advertising rankled Cincinnati residents as they witnessed visual pollution encrusting the region’s hillsides. Leading the opposition was the Municipal Art Society – a sort of ad-hoc predecessor to today’s Urban Design Review Board. The opening shot was fired 24 August 1896 when the Enquirer reported:

“A matter that will undoubtedly be of interest to the business men is the fact that war has been declared by the Cincinnati Municipal Art Society against advertising signs on fences along the car routes and drives of the city. The art society maintains that these signs mar the beauty of the city, especially in the case of landscape scenes on the hills and in the suburbs, and that they are offensive to the public taste.”

The Society was persistent. It took five years but the Cincinnati Post reported [24 November 1901] that the Baldwin Piano Company had demolished 200 feet of billboards erected on company property along Gilbert Avenue. The Post described this as the “first result” of the Society’s campaign.

The Municipal Art Society was soon joined by some strange bedfellows. The Cincinnati Business Men’s Club, among whose members were certainly a number of advertisers who employed billboards to disseminate their messages, created its own Municipal Art Committee to lobby for restrictions on outdoor advertising. On 1 June 1907, the committee circulated a postcard illustrated with a photo of signage clogging the view from the Grand Central Depot, with the sarcastic caption, “A Nice Welcome To Cincinnati.”

As early as 1895, the city chased the Fountain saloon’s advertising off Fountain Square, but appears not to have drafted a comprehensive law about outdoor advertising until 1909 when, as part of a broader safety ordinance, the city adopted limitations on the size of billboards, their placement near thoroughfares and the materials to be used in their construction.

While the city pondered how to encourage commerce while maintaining attractive views, the entire billboard industry was gaining momentum through a Cincinnati entrepreneur named Philip Morton. Before Morton, “bill boards” were basically fences on which bill posters slapped printed advertisements glued up with a flour-water paste. Morton took outdoor advertising to a new level, according to Jay Gilbert, who has researched his influence on marketing [Cincinnati Magazine September 2016]:

“By 1898 he’d become the Steve Jobs of roadside blight. Doing business as Ph. Morton, Phil was an early pioneer of putting ads into free-standing frames called ‘bill-boards’ and plunking them down everywhere. Eventually every railroad route and motorway in America had its view ruined by a Ph. Morton billboard.”

Even the powerhouse Morton found himself in the city’s crosshairs. Parks Superintendent John W. Rodgers, according to the Enquirer [20 September 1907], exasperated by Morton’s billboards blocking the view of Inwood Park, erupted.

“Park Superintendent Rodgers yesterday tore down over 12,000 feet of big billboards that stretched along for a distance south of Hollister street, facing Vine street, in front of Inwood Park. The billboards were 12 feet high, about 1,000 feet long and contained the advertisements of leading firms of the city, and were illuminated at night with electric lights. They had been at that place for years.”

All of those billboards were leased by Philip Morton who, as coincidence would have it, dropped off a check to pay the lease while workmen were busily engaged demolishing his thousand feet of signage. This was the Boss Cox era in Cincinnati where the right hand was very often ignorant of the left hand’s activity. And so it was, while the Park Superintendent was demolishing billboards on Vine Street, the Board of Public Service pondered a lease for billboards along Gilbert Avenue. That’s right – the same Gilbert Avenue divested of billboards just six years earlier.

A common theme of cartoon artists at that time was the eventual coverage of all available exterior surfaces with advertising signs and slogans. In response, Cincinnati Post cartoonist Elmer Andrews Bushnell sketched City Hall wrapped from sidewalk to parapet in advertising while George Barnsdale Cox and his minion, August “Garry” Herrmann, happily apply more posters and Mayor Julius Fleischmann hides behind a billboard.

The battle raged for decades. Photographs from 1927 show dozens of billboards crowding the hillside over the Brighton overpass to Central Parkway and the Enquirer [24 March 1929] begged for relief because billboards and other unsightly structures had a negative effect on property values:

“What of the gaudy billboard that intrudes itself into a residential district, the sign which girds the tree or telephone pole, the roadside ‘shack’ which is made more ugly with bizarre advertisements? Do they affect values?”

A century later, we hardly notice billboards anymore. We’re too busy texting while we drive.

[terresdebrume]

Further thoughts on Werewolf!Webster (aka WEBrewolf for tagging purposes)

In this universe, werewolves aren't some kind of humanoid hybrids: they're just wolves, really, or at least that's how Web describes it. What he neglects to mention is that in his wolf form he's about the size of a draft horse, so imagine everybody's surprise when, on he tail end of Bastogne, the German army scrounges up a surge of reinforcements that has everyone wanting to shit their boots even more than usual, and it feels like they're probably doomed... and then this absolutely fuck off huge creature with fur made to blend exactly with the kind of landscape they're in barges in on silent feet and starts tearing into the enemy line, picking off soldiers one by one

The deafening roar of combat, tres exploding and the certitude of death, and then one of the tank goes silent—absolute death of all sounds in less than a second as the hush of ambushed soldiers falls under the trees. Then a scream, and another, and another, and in the dead silence Joe hears 'It's in the trees!' Followed by screams of pure terror as the machine guns come back to life, but this time in the opposite direction

There are more screams, cut short, and the men of Easy wait with baited breath, coiled as springs because Web left this morning—said knowing when he's a danger is the best way for a wolf to keep others safe from him and walked away, and now there's this growl

And a shadow that grows

And grows

And grows

And pads on quiet feet as they stare, frozen with fear and enough collective knowledge of dogs to warn one another to stay put, stay put, it's worse if you run but oh, fuck, he's huge...

The creature steps forward. The Company takes a step back, all as one, except for Liebgott, who was already scared of dogs before all of this and is now horribly, ironically designated by the fucking universe as the first on the line—and so Liebgott does what he's been doing since the day he stepped on mainland Europe, even if he doesn't fully know that's what he does: he gathers all the edges of his anger, all the things that are so fucking unfair about this whole affair, and when the creature steps too close to him he lets his fist swing with all the strength he can still find after hungering for so long

Web yelps and stumbles back in surprise, tripping over his own feet and rolling down in the snow, turning back to his human form fast enough that he moons the entire company as he goes ass over teakettle in one of the bloodied foxholes. Joe watches, only dimly aware of the way wolf snot and fresh blood warm part of his fist, as first Web's completely disarranged hair and then his face, then the entire top half of him emerges. He's still naked, absolutely caked in blood from his nose to his navel—there are deep gouges in his shoulders and his belly, going thinner as the rest of them watch, and when he lifts a hand to his neck to scratch at his nape, the palm of it is red, too.

And Joe, who doesn't have any anger left at the ready right now but is sure as shit not willing to admit that for a second there he thought he'd be killed by fucking College Boy of all people, says:

"Jesus fuck, Web, is that what they teach you in fucking Harvard?"

He takes a snowball to the face, and gets a lecture from Roe when he gets his nose inspected for frostbite.

[gamergirljournalist]

The "Budget" in Budget Keyboards is changing

The budget keyboard landscape has changed.

Back in 2020, a budget keyboard would usually mean buying something from Ali Express or Amazon. However, this all changed during 2022 and onward as the keyboard market changed and provided new offerings to enthusiasts and those entering the hobby.

We now have budget keebs that have an aluminium body, LED screens, a really good sound profile, etc etc. All these cool features and it doesn't have to break the bank. However, there are other keyboard vendors out there that like to brand themselves as "budget" and "affordable," but it doesn't look that way when you look at the cost.

So as the hobby starts to open its doors to more in-stock options, and people are now being careful about whom they're giving their money towards, What defines the budget in "Budget Keyboard?"

I'm sorry, the QK65 V2 cost how much?!

What made me decide to write this blog post was looking at the cost of the QK65 V2.

I used to own the R2 of the QK65. Unfortunately, I sold it because I wasn't really happy with it + I have the QK75 version on the way. That keyboard alone was $300 AUD alone.

So now enters the QK65 V2, which many describe as a huge upgrade from its predecessor. In my honest opinion, the keyboard looks similar to the Think6.5 by Graystudios, only it has an LED screen, not a light block.

So it shouldn't shock you that the cost of the QK65 is nearly similar to the Think 6.5 in the aftermarket.

According to SwitchKeys.com, if I were to order this entire keyboard without any extras, it's going to cost me nearly $390, excluding shipping. Based on my previous QK pre-order experience, I get free shipping because I'm a local.

My second-hand Think 6.5 Valentine's edition was around 500. Just $110 off the new QK keyboard.

The reason I bring this up is because the QK lineup was described as the budget option for those who love Owllab's products. After all, QwertyKeys (the manufacturer of the QK lineup) is the sister company of Owllabs.

Even YouTubers who reviewed the ORIGINAL QK65 were shocked at how good it sounds, as well as its price.

What was the budget keyboard landscape like back in the day?

Back in the day, the budget keyboard market was pretty underwhelming. It was mostly plastic keyboards, many of which have north-facing LEDs. Or you'd get something made with multiple acrylic layers stacked up. One thing these boards have in common is that they sound very terrible. Like seriously, you need to mod the heck out of them if you want it to sound very decent.

This obviously changed over the years with the release of the Monsgeek M series, Keychron, and the QK and Neo lineup, just to name a few. The same can be said for keycaps, with vendors like Osume and Canonkeys releasing in-stock options.

And while it's great to hear that there are IN-STOCK options for those entering the hobby, you also need to be wary of the price of these metal rectangles. Just because the group buy model is slowing down doesn't mean we should forget the price of these machines.

Anything above $300 AUD is not budget, it's mid-tier

In my very honest opinion, any new keyboard produced by QwertyKeys shouldn't be considered as budget anymore. I think they're entering the mid-tier market, especially due to its quality and features.

While it's cool to see that there are many "affordable" keyboards in the market, I think the community needs to draw a line on what is considered to be "budget" and for me, that's anything above $300 AUD.

As of writing $300 Australian dollars converts to $204 USD. And I think it's fair to say that anything above $200 USD or $300 AUD is too much for the budget label.

But just because that marks out QK doesn't mean there are no options left for very good budget keyboards. If you're someone who wants a decent LED screen, get the Gamakay LK75. It's super affordable and it's only $99 USD. Another good alternative is literally anything from Keychron. I tried some of them when I went to PAX Aus this year and their boards cost between $100 to $270 AUD. I wish this was my board instead of the GMMK Pro that I bought overseas.

And speaking of the GMMK Pro, can we all agree that we were very delulu, thinking that this keyboard was "budget" when clearly, it wasn't?

The budget keyboard market is changing. And as prices increase and features get added, we need to determine what counts as "budget." And to me, the QK65 v2 and anything above $300 AUD no longer counts. But that's okay because, with enough elbow grease, you can make a cheap acrylic/plastic keyboard to sound really good.

[fatuismooches]

icb anon left out the most important part about the lovers' notebook: it's delivered by luna's puppy, umbra 🥺🥺🥺

but fr that's been one of my favorite concepts since ff15 came out. i remember noctis being so shy he just filled the page with stickers (lol) so i can def see the more shy/quiet harbingers attaching pictures they took instead (capitano having a hidden talent for scrapbooking? ok king)

also LOVE LETTERS!!!! *swoons* when yelan said snezhnayan ppl use scented paper to make their letters more romantic? yeah, that's such a pantalone thing to do 🥴 his handwriting is so elegant and maybe he even has a custom wax seal for his love bc he's extra like that

OH MY GOSH UMBRA IS SO CUTE 😭😭💖 I don't know how to describe it but characters having an animal companion is always so. Freaking. Cute. 🥰 😭 AND OMG UR SO RIGHT??? Capitano fills the pages with his photos and the captions being so straight to the point. "Landscape of Natlan." "A fox followed me to the camp." "I think you would like this dish." Sandrone too, she's not the best with words either so she tends to send pictures of any interesting machinery she encounters on her missions. But she doesn't put captions. She likes to hear your ideas on what you think the machine is used for.

YOUR BIG BRAIN IS SO 💖 SCENTED LOVE LETTERS HAS PANTALONE'S NAME WRITTEN ALL OVER IT (i had to google when yelan said that since it's been so many months since her story quest 💀) But omg. Pantalone definitely has different kinds of scented ink specifically made for him as well just so he can use them while writing letters to you. And the best part you can actually smell them (cuz yk he's rich as hell getting actual high-quality products 😭) and you just fall in love all over again ;)

I cannot stress enough Pantalone has one of the most beautiful handwriting like.. you'll never get over it. Plus he definitely has a custom wax seal... he's not using a Fatui seal for letters to you. He's so extra he probably has a bunch of them at his disposal for whatever mood he's in (flowers, plants, symbols, even tiny words, whatever they are, it's fancy af)

[ohc-and-the-music-tapes-archive]

Archived interview with Julian Koster about tour, recording, creating instruments and future projects. Seattle Weekly, 19th February 2009.

fragments:

So what's going on with the Orbiting Human Tapdancing Machine? Is it finished yet?

It is not. It's the most complicated thing we've ever attempted. It's very ambitious and part of its original design came from this period of time I spent with my grandpa and I'm trying to kind of be...I want to be true to some of the things that we came up with, rather than just trying to bend to whatever is possible, you know, at the moment, the way that you might otherwise. It's taking a while, but I'm hoping that it'll be able to go out into the world soon. It's also rather costly. Our hope is that maybe by the fall it'll be able to start actually being on recordings and performing and stuff.

When did you first start building instruments? Have you always been one of those people who likes to construct things?

The funny thing is that I am personally very untalented at practical things like building skills and stuff-- woodworking and shop type things. Now I wish that I had taken shop in school. The other funny thing is that in my life the person that knew the most about these sorts of things is my stepfather, and he and I had this horrible, horrible relationship, and so I kind of associated those skills with evil in my childhood.

The way the metronome happened, which was kind of the most miraculous thing of all these projects in my life, was just that I'd drawn a picture of it in a notebook--just drawn a picture and written, '7 foot tall metronome'-- and sort of described what it did. We were at a dinner in Athens, a bunch of our friends were together having food, and a friend of mine just looked over my shoulder and I happened to be writing something on that page and he just said, "What's that?" And I told him what it was, and a couple of my other friends gathered around and they started talking about how it could be done.

The next thing you knew, a few days later we were in my friend's painting studio with a bunch of wood and just starting, and then other friends would come by with little suggestions about the mechanism. One friend who knew trigonometry--he still remembered trigonometry!--helped figure out how to make the dome at the top. Everybody sort of contributed these little bits and it took on this wonderful momentum because it was this fun project happening at this studio and everyone would stop to see how it was going. Within a month, that thing existed in real life. That singular event taught me more about what's possible in this world than almost anything I'd experienced up to that point.

[...]

Your first couple of recordings told a narrative story-- is there a narrative in Music Tapes For Clouds and Tornadoes?

This record is a different creature in a lot of ways from a lot of the things that I've made because it's to me, it's more like a landscape. The other records were kind of like places to me, too, to be honest, but this one felt more like a landscape where one song was a hill, one was a tree, one was a cow...so all of the things belong to each other in that sense. They were all familial and stuff, but the thing as a whole doesn't tell a narrative story. But then each song sort of seems to tell its own story more. And that's what it felt like it was as a record when it was forming. I kind of said, 'Oh, that's what you are' and in a funny way it was quite unlike the other things that the Music Tapes had done, and that felt kind of fun and exciting to me.

[voidoftheotherside]

Very specific Otherside picnic reference stimboard!

This is my first stimboard so please be nice.

Reference explanations:

In file 1 Sorawo describes her transformed eye as looking like the deep azure of ryukyu glass

In file 4 Kozakura theorizes that the otherside could function similar to the MIT nightmare machine in causing fear algorithmically

Misc blue stim

In file 1 Sorawo compares the kunekune (wiggle-waggle) to scarecrows and snakes, explaining that the Japanese name for scarecrows (kakashi) comes from the Japanese name for tiger keelbacks (kamikakashi)

In file 1 Sorawo describes her vision closing in with blue as if someone spilled ink

In file 4 and 5 Sorawo and Kozakura discuss the similarities between the entities that manifested outside Kozakura’s house and tanuki

I swear bioluminescence is mentioned somewhere but I can’t find it so I give up

In file 5 Sorawo describes Kankandara’s true form as looking similar to a match puzzle with three v shapes

In file 1 Sorawo describes the growths caused by the kunekune (wiggle-waggle) as similar to fungi

Image description and gif sources below cut

Image descriptions:

A gif displaying two teacups, a teapot, and a plate made from dark blue ryukyu glass

A landscape with a mountain in the background, tents in the middle, and grass in the foreground, distorted and discoloured by the MIT nightmare machine

A gif of shimmering blue paint being mixed

A gif of a tiger keelback snake crawling over dirt

A gif of blue ink swirling in water. Added digitally on top is two anime characters (Sorawo and Toriko) in a chibi art style holding guns

A gif of two young tanuki running along next to a wall in the dark

A gif of someone swirling their hand in bioluminescent water, wherever the water is disturbs glows bright blue

Six matchsticks arranged to form a squiggly line made of three V-shapes

A gif of blue and white mushrooms growing in Timelapse on a log

Sources:

[ruknowhere]

[American Journal]

Robert Hayden - 1913-1980

here among them the americans this baffling

multi people extremes and variegations their

noise restlessness their almost frightening

energy how best describe these aliens in my

reports to The Counselors

disguise myself in order to study them unobserved

adapting their varied pigmentations white black

red brown yellow the imprecise and strangering

distinctions by which they live by which they

justify their cruelties to one another

charming savages enlightened primitives brash

new comers lately sprung up in our galaxy how

describe them do they indeed know what or who

they are do not seem to yet no other beings

in the universe make more extravagant claims

for their importance and identity

like us they have created a veritable populace

of machines that serve and soothe and pamper

and entertain we have seen their flags and

foot prints on the moon also the intricate

rubbish left behind a wastefully ingenious

people many it appears worship the Unknowable

Essence the same for them as for us but are

more faithful to their machine made gods

technologists their shamans

oceans deserts mountains grain fields canyons

forests variousness of landscapes weathers

sun light moon light as at home much here is

beautiful dream like vistas reminding me of

home item have seen the rock place known

as garden of the gods and sacred to the first

indigenes red monoliths of home despite

the tensions i breathe in i am attracted to

the vigorous americans disturbing sensuous

appeal of so many never to be admitted

something they call the american dream sure

we still believe in it i guess an earth man

in the tavern said irregardless of the some

times night mare facts we always try to double

talk our way around and its okay the dreams

okay and means whats good could be a damn sight

better means every body in the good old u s a

should have the chance to get ahead or at least

should have three squares a day as for myself

i do okay not crying hunger with a loaf of

bread tucked under my arm you understand i

fear one does not clearly follow i replied

notice you got a funny accent pal like where

you from he asked far from here i mumbled

he stared hard i left

must be more careful item learn to use okay

their pass word okay

crowds gathering in the streets today for some

reason obscure to me noise and violent motion

repulsive physical contact sentinels pigs

i heard them called with flailing clubs rage

and bleeding and frenzy and screaming machines

wailing unbearable decibels i fled lest

vibrations of the brutal scene do further harm

to my metabolism already over taxed

The Counselors would never permit such barbarous

confusion they know what is best for our sereni

ty we are an ancient race and have outgrown

illusions cherished here item their vaunted

liberty no body pushes me around i have heard

them say land of the free they sing what do

they fear mistrust betray more than the freedom

they boast of in their ignorant pride have seen

the squalid ghettoes in their violent cities

paradox on paradox how have the americans

managed to survive

parades fireworks displays video spectacles

much grandiloquence much buying and selling

they are celebrating their history earth men

in antique uniforms play at the carnage whereby

the americans achieved identity we too recall

that struggle as enterprise of suffering and

faith uniquely theirs blonde miss teen age

america waving from a red white and blue flower

float as the goddess of liberty a divided

people seeking reassurance from a past few under

stand and many scorn why should we sanction

old hypocrisies thus dissenters The Counse

lors would silence them

a decadent people The Counselors believe i

do not find them decadent a refutation not

permitted me but for all their knowledge

power and inventiveness not yet more than raw

crude neophytes like earthlings everywhere

though i have easily passed for an american in

bankers grey afro and dashiki long hair and jeans

hard hat yarmulka mini skirt describe in some

detail for the amusement of The Counselors and

though my skill in mimicry is impeccable as

indeed The Counselors are aware some thing

eludes me some constant amid the variables

defies analysis and imitation will i be judged

incompetent

america as much a problem in metaphysics as

it is a nation earthly entity an iota in our

galaxy an organism that changes even as i

examine it fact and fantasy never twice the

same so many variables

exert greater caution twice have aroused

suspicion returned to the ship until rumors

of humanoids from outer space so their scoff

ing media voices termed us had been laughed

away my crew and i laughed too of course

confess i am curiously drawn unmentionable to

the americans doubt i could exist among them for

long however psychic demands far too severe

much violence much that repels i am attracted

none the less their variousness their ingenuity

their elan vital and that some thing essence

quiddity i cannot penetrate or name

.

https://poets.org/poem/american-journal

.

[rewritingtrauma]

SAY 'TIRED' AGAIN... I DARE YOU

*Deep Breath*

Since developing an - as yet undiagnosed - fatigue and heart condition back in November last year I have been somewhat surprised by the number of people who have said things to me like "everybody's tired", "I'm tired too" and "You'll feel better for some rest". I think it is really important to make a distinction between tired and fatigued and to underscore why this is important...

We are, almost all of us, familiar with tired. Some more so than others (shout out to the parents, guardians and care givers in the virtual reading room). Everything in contemporary, capitalist, consumerist society is tiring - Work is tiring, relationships are tiring, chores are tiring, social media and politics are tiring... Tired is a very familiar feeling. The problem I have with people equivocating what I'm experiencing with tired is that "tired" passes. Tired can generally be relieved with the right amount of rest, sleep, or even a holiday - if that luxury is available to you. We get breaks from "tired": when you are engaged in an activity which energises you (for me it used to be gardening, walking, cycling, creative play and/or socialising); when you drink a can of IRN BRU; or when you have a scintillating conversation. There are breaks in the cloud of tired. One of the main differences between "tired" and "fatigued" is - there is no alleviation from fatigue. This is cloud world with constant, sometimes severe, storms of mental confusion. Fatigue is to tired what the perpetual motion machine is to walking a slinky down the stairs... Fatigue... just... keeps... going...

So when people replace "fatigue" with "tired" I feel like my experiences, my whole life in fact, are being minimised. I am not just tired. I am fatigued. The things which used to bring me joy and energy, the things which used to bring relief from feelings of tired, now deplete me. Even a 10 minute walk these days can drain me as much as a day of spreadsheets used to in the past. One example of how fatigue has completely altered the landscape of my life: As someone whose only mode of transport is a bike (a decision made intentionally to benefit me physically, financially and to have less impact on the environment) - it has been devastating to experience the fatigue and dizziness escalate to such a degree that I can't cycle even a mile down the road. Six months ago, before the fatigue, I was averaging 90 miles a week. And I was tired then, most of the time. Not fatigued. Now, I can't even cycle to the shops. In February I had to stop working because the combined fatigue<>brain fog<>dizziness made me incapable of being upright for a whole shift (let alone move things, complete tasks, or be a useful and communicative human being). Nowadays, cooking a meal can take up my entire energy budget not just for that day, but for the following 72 hours. When we are tired, we can usually perform some basic, menial tasks. When we are fatigued, simple things like doing the laundry or making a coffee become herculean feats, often with energy hangovers afterwards.

Language matters, words matter - because it is only through words we can convey some limited sense of our lived realities, it is only through language that we can connect, commune. If this new health situation has taught me anything - it is the importance of listening to, and hearing, the words which others use to describe themselves and their experiences. To mirror those back to them. Or, if I do not understand, to ask. So please, pretty please, if I say 'fatigue' don't say 'tired'.

With love, humility and exhaustion,

Iris

xxxxxx

[silyabeeodess]

FusionFall Headcanons: Painsaws

Fuse was extremely pleased to have this kind of fusion monster in his army right at the start of the invasion. Their description explains that they were originally created by “overzealous loggers,” and so “Fuse didn't even have to alter the Painsaws to turn them into four-bladed terrors.” These monsters made themselves well-known in rural and sub-urban areas for how quickly they tore across landscapes--cutting down everything around them with reckless abandon.        

A Painsaw’s main purpose is simply to clear the land--only doing so now with the direct intention of encouraging soil erosion. Destruction aside, less trees means less soil protection against weathering, allowing fusion matter seeped into the earth to break the land apart even faster. Think of all of the dangers of deforestation taken to a much greater extreme, with the chain of cause-and-effect happening so rapidly that people can barely keep up. Especially before nanos, Painsaws could easily devastate vast amounts of ground in a short time.

Moreover, the Painsaws are just as much of a direct threat to people as they are to the land. They can swivel their torso a full 360 degrees with amazing speed, their four arms stretching across a wide radius. Even experienced soldiers would have a hard time fighting them at close range, with injury almost guaranteed.   

They have three key weaknesses: Limited mobility with their legs, a top-heavy form, and low stamina. When loggers initially fabricated the machines that would become Painsaws, it was with the idea of positioning them in a close cluster of trees/undergrowth to clear all at once. They weren’t meant to move on their own, their legs instead focused on stabilizing their heavy weight when they were activated. As such, it can be difficult for Painsaws to chase after their targets, especially over rougher terrain. If they tip over, it’s also extremely difficult for them to push themselves back up. As for the stamina issue, electric chainsaws can only run for a couple hours at the most, and this carries over with the Painsaws. Besides the drain of the chainsaws themselves when active, their chaotic whirlwind of movements also saps a lot of energy. They have to rest regularly as a result, and they can’t keep up in a drawn-out battle. 

The best way to handle facing a Painsaw is to keep your distance and use the terrain to your advantage. You’ll have a much easier time moving uphill or crossing over water than they will, forcing them to either give up the chase or exposing themselves to a clean attack. They’re especially weak to attacks from high ground. Nanos with a stun ability are also very useful against them.    

The reason for their being only standard Painsaws in the Future rather than the stronger Power Painsaws of the Past is that it’s another case of Earth’s technology in decay. The Painsaws might’ve been extremely useful in Fuse’s army at the start of the war, but not so much toward the end when comparing them to other fusion monsters. Fuse would enjoy keeping some of them around, or at least of their variety, but it would be more about keeping the idea of them to recreate this type of fusion monster for other invasions. The technology itself that was taken over in their creation would be rendered obsolete by the end of the war, so he’d rather see them evolve through some means if he were to keep them in his army.

The Power Painsaws were one way this evolution was tested mid-war. In their description, besides being stronger, they’re also described as having “a special power supply that allows [them] to run for months without stopping.”  Fuse’s army also seemed to be experimenting with fitting them with different tools, as in the mission “Lab Accidents,” we find that the Power Painsaws had digging claws in attempt to get into Dexter’s old lab.

[wildcardjoey]

so, I've had this theory (or theories, rather, that play off each other) for a while and have been working out the kinks and decided to finally put all my thoughts out in writing.

First off, the hero of ten thousand years ago, the sheikah, and the royal family. No one seems to notice that they had the idea for the divine beasts and gaurdians and prepared them in advance. They were expecting Ganon to manifest as he did, when he did. They were prepared for an event that had happened before.

But how could this have happened before? We've seen what happens to an unprepared hyrule. Without the gaurdians, you're still left with a monster of astronomical power that is no longer in this scenario being restrained. If ten thousand years ago they were preparing for a repeat of an even that occurred 20,000 years ago (a ludicrous number, but we'll get to that later,) then it must have been stopped in the past, so how was it stopped then?

Positioned in three out of four corners of the map are complete skeletons of long dead beast. Each resembles the skeleton of a known benevolent servant of Hylia seen in other games. Around Lanayru tower, we see the usual uptick in scattered leviathan bones normally reserved for regions where you would find a completed skeleton.

Taking the uptick in bones around Lanayru as an implied fourth skeleton, we get four leviathans located in simmilar areas to where the divine beasts would later be positioned to strike Ganon, and many more scattered leviathans located closer to Ganon but still near the completed Skeletons.

I believe the levianthans paid the ultamate price in wounding the Calamity, the weaker ones buying time and being ripped to shreds as the greatest of them prepared a four pronged strike on the Calamity, ones that left them exhausted and costing them their lives. These events would inspire the creation of the divine beasts and gaurdians.

Why don't those three brothers know this story? Either it may have been forgotten durring the calamity, or they do know it and simply don't take it at face value. They're scientists who recognise that that story may simply be a way people in the past explained the bones that very clearly dot the landscape of hyrule, and most would not assume they simply died of natural events because similar creatures also feature as powerful beasts that aided or were aided by heroes in their religion.

The second is related to that number... 20,000 years ago. That's two entire irl recorded human histories worth of time and neither would have been when Ganondorf was sealed by the green-arm-energy-producing gold band, as the arising of the Calamity is a symptom of the seal on Ganon allowing his malice to slip out and build up over time.

A known symptom of linguistic and mythological drift is it can leave a story taking place entire exponents of time further in the past than the events that inspire them. It's more likely for the events described having taken something more like a millenia apart.

So Ganon arrises every 1,000 years? Even with linguistic drift, that seems hard to not have as a known peice of history.

I don't think so. Another known tendency of myths is events being added. The events as described in ballads and legends of the hero of ten thousand years ago always sound almost too thorough when describing how the plan is to work. It's almost like myths that are intended to describe agricultural processes, or the weather associated with when a certain constellation is in a specific part of the night sky.

The story was made up to record the plan the Sheikah had come up with to ensure future generations knew how to use them.

now without the story of the divine beasts' and gaurdians' intended purpose and the plan to seal the Calamity, you're left with "10,000 years ago the Sheikah built these machines to aid in the defeat of Ganon, but were forced to bury them when they sparked unrest due to uneasyness and distrust among the peoples of Hyrule."

With the addition of the Leviathan theory, we get "20,000 years ago, the leviathans sacrificed themselves to weaken the Calamity significantly, and 10,000 years ago the Sheikah built these machines to aid in the defeat of Ganon, but were forced to bury them when they sparked unrest due to uneasyness and distrust among the peoples of Hyrule."

Finally, with the assumption that linguistic or mythological drift, if not storytellers simply exaggerating the age, caused the much larger timescale, we have the Sheikah, following the defeat of the Calmity with the sacrifice of the Leviathans, realizing that the next time the Calamity arises will be dissasterous for Hyrule if they don't have something of equal power to the leviathans by then. They begin attempts to create this answer artificially and manage to create the divine beasts and gaurdians, as well as towers, shrines, the Sheikah Slate, and weaponry. All of this technology, however, is designed for war and appears unsettling and unnatural to most, and unrest begins to stur among the populace. The Sheikah are ordered to abandon their technology, burying it beneath the earth (something that they are specified to have done in the story and simply would not have been recorded in a myth normally) but creating a myth of a hero and the technology to ensure it is known how it is to be used when the need for it to be used arises.

But then how did Ganon know about the gaurdians to be able to control them? The Yiga snitched about the same time they defected.

[watching-pictures-move]

Movie Review | Monster Hunter (Anderson, 2020)

Maybe I was more tired than I realized watching this, or maybe I'm just getting dumber and reacting to movies on the level of pure sensation than actually trying to keep track of narrative elements, but I had a weirdly difficult time following along with this. I won't rule out those first two reasons, but I also found this awkwardly paced. One can charitably describe this as "lean", in that we're basically hit with incident after ostensibly exciting incident, and it's refreshing when a movie isn't bogged down in exposition, especially for potential future sequels (although this annoyingly ends with a cliffhanger and post-credits scene). But I still expect a movie to set things up and sell us on the significance of certain developments. Perhaps I was too zoned out to notice all the intricate groundwork this might have been laying, but it seemed that every few minutes we were getting hit with a new monster that it never bothered to set up, rushing through the confrontation so as to undermine any awe the monster might inspire, and the racing along to the next action scene. There's no breathing room, no moments to sit back and savour what the movie's serving.

I also think some of that lack of awe stems from the visuals, largely the 2.35:1 aspect ratio, which often suggests grandeur when deployed in the more tactile epics of yore, but feels claustrophobic here, undercutting any real grasp of the monsters' size. And while I understand there was actual location shooting, the CGI-assisted cinematography renders everything plastic in a way I often found unpleasant to look at. Paul W.S. Anderson is a director I've been unable to fully embrace, and I don't think this makes a particularly good case for him. His affinity for clean geometric compositions clashes with the desert setting, as whatever order he finds in the manufactured interiors of his Resident Evil movies is totally absent here, and the plain desert landscape leaves a dearth of interesting things in the frame to look at. And while the action is less incoherent than in the last Resident Evil movie, the cutting is still too frantic to let any of the juicier images breathe. I will at least say that the confrontations here at least seem free of the inconsequential back-and-forths and arbitrary denouements of his fight scenes elsewhere. And there are individual images, like the shells piling up as the heroine fires a machine gun, or the part where she whips out a rocket launcher, that made a direct appeal to my inner fifteen-year-old, the dork who saw the end of the first Resident Evil when the heroine pumped a shotgun and the camera pulled back and thought it was the coolest shit ever (but then waited over a decade to watch the whole movie for fear that the movie would actually be lame, which sadly turned out to be the case).

Despite the fact that production was completed prior to the pandemic, this definitely feels like a pandemic-era "blockbuster" with its small, weirdly insular and artificial world, but I suppose Anderson's movies have always been modestly scaled and budgeted for special effects extravaganzas. I do wonder if my growing interest over the past few years in '90s studio vehicles has been a subconscious reaction to this, as those movies offer large casts, seemingly lived-in worlds and tactile pleasures. This one has a bunch of randos that it fails to define with any personality and throws in even more randos in the third act, although I did enjoy the chemistry between Milla Jovovich and Tony Jaa, who bring their own brands of charisma to the material, and for some reason there's an anthropomorphized cat not unlike the one in Dragon Ball Z, and I will never say no to Ron Perlman showing up at any stage in a movie.

[redeyedroid]

CW for war, disease and mass death.

What's the worst time and place to be a human in history? Julius Caesar's armies killed maybe a million people and enslaved a million others in the conquest of Gaul. Genghis Khan's slaughtered so many people that 700 million tons of CO2 were supposedly scrubbed from the atmosphere. Cromwell's New Model Army followed the laws of war as they were understood in the mid-17th century far better than most of their contemporaries and still embarked on near-genocidal campaigns in Ireland.

Then there are the pandemics. The Plague of Justinian and the Black Death, both caused by a simple bacteria, yersinia pestis. The apocalypse brought to the indigenous peoples of the Americas by European invaders killed 90% of the population of North America and led to a besieged, disease-ridden populace wiped out as Cortes's conquistadors brought down the Aztecs in their capital of Tenochtitlan.

On and on it goes and there is no sign of it ever stopping.

The Second World War gave so many more names to add to the list. Factories of death forever associated with mass murder. Fewer than 10 people are known to have survived Belzec. 67 survived Treblinka. A couple of hundred broke out of Sobibor and made it to the end of the war. Auschwitz was the pinnacle of the Nazi extermination machine and a place of unimaginable horror, but it is known because people survived.

There was brutal combat on numerous small Pacific islands and over jungle-covered mountains where Japanese forces had to be wiped out because they would not surrender and where to be taken prisoner by them was to be tortured to death. After 8 years of war against China, the Japanese repatriated 57 POWs.

There was death in the Atlantic where merchant sailors - civilians, technically - died in oil-covered, burning seas, or froze in arctic wastes, or drowned, or simply vanished, their fates unknown.

And there are so many towns and cities to remember. 350,000 dead before the war is traditionally held to have begun, chronicled in Iris Chang's book, The Rape of Nanking. The freezing, starving siege of Leningrad where maybe a million died and some capitulated to the temptation of cannibalism and survived, or were caught and executed, or starved anyway. The Götterdämmerung of the Nazi state when the Red Army took a devastated Berlin and indulged in mass rape. Dresden. Hiroshima. Nagasaki.

Thousands of places where noone tells the story of the murders that took place, because only the murderers survived. Thousands more where soldiers fought and died over a cluster of buildings, large and small.

Among these, there is the greatest symbol of the struggle of annihilation between Nazi Germany and the USSR. Among these there is Stalingrad.

Today, Feb 2nd 2023 is the 80th anniversary of the end of what is held to be the largest battle in human history. For a war where books have endlessly proclaimed the events the describe to be turning points or decisive, Stalingrad is as close to that actually being true as you find. It was the high water mark of Nazi conquest. After it, they never held the strategic initiative again. 1943 would be a year where it's defeat, inevitable before, would be made clear.

For 6 months the Red Army and German 6th Army fought over a ribbon of urban landscape 10 miles long on the river Volga, named after a tyrant maybe responsible for more dead than his opponent (though not for want of trying on Hitler's part. Had the Germans won, tens of millions more would have died. This is not supposition. This is explicitly what the Generalplan Ost laid out for the conquered east.) until the broken remnants of German forces finally surrendered, weeks after the outcome had been decided.

Maybe a million soldiers were killed in the campaign, either on the steppe outside the city in summer, autumn and winter of 1942, or in the city itself, where they fought over the ruins, men taking and holding buildings with grenade and submachine gun. Bayonet and club. Sharpened shovels wielded like hatchets were preferred weapons in the close, hand-to-hand combat that took place. The Rattenkrieg - rat's war - as the Germans referred to the subterranean, hidden war where to reveal yourself risked dying to a sniper's bullet. The Soviets positioned themselves as close to the Germans as possible, to limit the effectiveness of German firepower. Thousands of civilians were killed in bombing before the 6th Army reached Stalingrad. Thousands would be evacuated across the Volga by the Soviets or deported by the Germans to the living hell of slave labour in Germany. Some, against all odds, survived in the smoke-filled, cacophonous hell the city became.

The Soviets held on, somehow, to tiny areas of the city. They had no choice. To retreat was to die. Stalin made that very clear. He issued orders declaring that to retreat, to surrender, was to commit treason. The NKVD put in blocking detachments to prevent withdrawal. Red Army soldiers arrested by them were executed or sent to penal battalions. Rarely, they might be released. Many more were summarily shot by their officers.

Replacements and supplies were ferried across the Volga, under fire from the Germans on the heights above the western bank. Anthony Beevor says that of the original 10,000 men of the 13th Guards Rifle Division which went into the city in September 1942 only 300 were still alive in February. (I'm not sure I believe that. 300 is a mythic number evoking heroic Spartans at Thermopylae. It's a little convenient for me.) They reorganised and employed small storm groups of infantry to engage the Germans at close quarters. They fought at night, because the impression was that the Germans feared the hours of darkness. They took terrible losses holding on to their tiny enclaves.

The Germans struggled with logistics and replacements. The combat units, ground down by the Soviets were strengthened by rear echelon troops - cooks, supply clerks, maintenance men and engineers. Men who were barely trained in infantry tactics, let alone in the intense urban combat skills needed in the rubble of Stalingrad. And slowly and surely, the combat strength of 6th Army was sucked into the hell of Stalingrad and fell victim to a Soviet strategic masterstroke.

On the 19th November, the Soviets launched a massive counteroffensive to the north of the city. Another attack began to the south a day later. The Soviet armour and artillery cut through weakly defended lines held by Romanian and Italian troops, because the German focus was on the blasted ruins of Stalingrad. On the 23rd, the two prongs of the Red Army met at a village called Kalach, encircling a quarter of a million men.

6th Army requested permission to break out. Hitler, grasping for symbolic victory denied them (though there were strategic reasons, too. 6th Army encircled pinned down Soviet forces and allowed German armies in the Caucasus to withdraw). Göring, hubristic, playing for Hitler's favour promised to supply 6th Army by air. A divisional commander initiated a break out on his own, hoping the rest of 6th Army would follow, but they didn't and his men were cut to pieces. A German operation to relieve the encircled men ground to a halt less than 15 miles from their positions. The Soviets set up loudspeakers opposite the Germans and played the sound of a clock on loop with the message, read by German communists in exile that every 7 seconds a German died in Russia.

Resupply by air failed.

In the New Year the Soviets attacked the pocket and destroyed the 6th Army. It took them weeks of bitter fighting in the cold, snow-covered battlefield. Eventually, what was left was pinned against the Volga, a strange inverse of the position Stalingrad's defenders had found themselves in September. Units collapsed and melded together, but discipline held in most cases. 6th Army's commander, Friedrich Paulus, was promoted to Field Marshal - a poison apple. The unspoken order from Hitler that accompanied it was for Paulus to shoot himself. He refused and surrendered himself on the 31st, leaving a more junior officer to officially surrender the 6th Army two days later.

90,000 men were taken into captivity. half-starved, ill, wounded, exhausted, they were thrown into a prison system that valued human life very little and where they were exposed to not only the vengeance of the authorities, but also of the zeks already there. Only around 6,000 survived to return to Germany. The last German POWs were released from Soviet captivity in the mid-1950s, several years after Stalin's death.

There are far too many places and events to consider, but for a little while at least, Stalingrad was probably the worst place in the world to be.