#incremental migration

[edbmails25]

How Exchange Migration Tools Simplify Complex Server Transitions

Addressing Large Mailboxes and Multiple Users

Migrating Exchange servers involves more than just moving emails. It requires careful coordination of data, user access, and system compatibility. Complex environments often pose challenges such as data loss, downtime, and configuration mismatches. Exchange migration tools are designed to address these difficulties and streamline the entire process. One major complexity in Exchange migrations is handling large mailboxes and multiple users. Manually migrating this data risks errors and extended downtime. Migration tools automate these tasks, ensuring precise data transfer without interruption to user access. This automation speeds up the process while maintaining mailbox integrity.

Preserving Data Fidelity

Data fidelity is another critical aspect. Reliable tools preserve folder hierarchies, metadata, permissions, and calendar events. This comprehensive data handling ensures that no important information is lost or corrupted during migration. Native methods often overlook these details, resulting in incomplete migrations.

Ensuring Security Throughout the Migration

Security is paramount during any server transition. Exchange migration tools offer encrypted data transfer and support for multi-factor authentication. This protects credentials and sensitive information throughout the migration lifecycle. Proper role-based access controls further reduce the risk of unauthorized actions.

Simplifying Mailbox Mapping and User Provisioning

Mailbox mapping and user provisioning are simplified by intelligent automation. Migration tools link source mailboxes to target ones accurately, avoiding manual errors. This feature minimizes administrative overhead and ensures users access the correct mailboxes post-migration.

Leveraging Incremental Migration for Efficiency

Advanced features such as incremental migration reduce the need for repeated full transfers. Migration tools detect and transfer only new or changed items after an initial migration. This minimizes downtime and keeps mailboxes up to date during the transition period.

Providing Real-Time Tracking and Reporting

Real-time tracking and detailed reporting provide administrators with visibility into migration progress. These insights help identify issues early and confirm successful completion. Having comprehensive logs supports compliance and troubleshooting efforts.

Conclusion In summary, Exchange migration tool transform complex server transitions into manageable, predictable operations. By automating critical tasks, preserving data integrity, enhancing security, and providing transparency, these tools empower IT teams to execute migrations with confidence and minimal disruption.

[ameliakeli]

Transfer Files from Box to Google Drive with Incremental Changes

[scoutofmymind]

AHHHhhhhGg!!!! We need more sweetie pie fratty Lu!! beg for a pt 2 🛐

I’ve Got You — { Luigi x Reader }

Content: NSFW — MDNI kissing, dry-humping, fingering, fluffy, handjobs, LuigiTalksYouThroughIt, he finishes a little Too Soon ™️, quickie

Wc: 2,586

Notes; Luigi reveals he was a psych major before venturing into the world of CS. He helps you through what seems to be yet another crisis, in more ways than one.

This is a Pt 2 of the Divine Timing Bullshit drabble.

"Well, I was a psychology major for a minute." Luigi's voice carries a hint of amusement as he settles cross-legged on his bed. The room surprises you — a private dorm that speaks of his family's wealth, yet the space feels lived-in, humble.

Lamps with amber edison bulbs cast a warm glow over textbooks stacked beside engineering manuals.

"And so that makes you my therapist?" The words come out more bitter than intended, hanging in the air between you. You hadn't planned this visit — just a casual 'wanna hang?' text at 3 PM that somehow led to you wearing tracks in his floor, your anxieties spilling out unchecked.

"Well, no, but I probably give better advice than Liz, or Scarlett, or Johanna." His voice stays steady, eyes tracking your movement with quiet attention. The way he lists your friends' names shows he's been listening all semester, filing away the details of your life. "Not licensed, but if it makes you feel better, you—"

"Never mind." You drag your sweater sleeves across your eyes, the soft fabric catching on your damp lashes. Your chest feels tight with that particular brand of exhaustion unique to college students — equal parts caffeine jitters and existential dread. "I'm just — I'm so tired of feeling like I have no purpose, you know? Just this thing floating around, ma-"

"Come here." His voice cuts through your spiral, soft but unmistakably firm. He pats the space in front of him, the gesture both invitation and anchor. When you hesitate, hovering between flight and surrender, his lips curve into a gentle smile. "Present moment exercise."

Reluctantly, you migrate to the space before him, mirroring Luigi's posture like a hesitant reflection — crossed legs, straightened spine. The mattress dips beneath your weight, creating a subtle gravity that draws you both incrementally closer. "What's the exercise?"

"Close your eyes." His voice carries that gentle authority that seems to bypass your usual defenses, making compliance feel less like surrender and more like trust. "What do you feel right now? Not think — feel."

You hum softly, hands resting in your lap as the world shifts from visual to visceral. The darkness behind your eyelids makes every sensation sharper, more immediate.

"Your knee touching mine," you start, clinging to this exercise like a Hail Mary thrown into the depths of your winter despair. "Uh- the texture of your comforter" - soft, worn cotton that speaks of countless nights studying - "the candle you lit..."

"Good." The word comes with the warm press of his hands finding yours, and your breath catches slightly. His skin feels sun-warmed against your winter-chilled palms, his thumbs painting invisible patterns that seem to speak directly to your nervous system. "What else?"

"Your hands," you murmur, the words falling soft and honest in the space between you.

You let yourself sink deeper into the sensation — not just the mechanical fact of his thumbs against your palms, but the way his touch seems to radiate warmth up your arms, how each deliberate stroke feels like morse code tapping out a message: breathe, settle, stay. "Uh — little sparks."

"Mm, that's good." Luigi's voice has mellowed to warm honey, no longer needing to rise above your anxious litany of deadlines and mounting student loans. "What else?" His fingertips whisper along your forearms where your sweater sleeves have retreated to your elbows, each touch deliberate and grounding.

"Water." The word emerges soft as you lose yourself in the patterns he traces, his fingers creating phantom ripples across your skin.

Memories surface with each touch — the shock of cold spring water on sunburnt skin, the gentle rock of a weathered pontoon boat, the way summer light dances on the farm's pond. A smile tugs at your lips, unbidden and genuine. "Reminds me of home."

Though your eyes remain closed, you can feel Luigi's answering smile in the air between you, sense the careful attention he pays to each micro-expression that crosses your face, every subtle response to his touch. "Yeah? Take me there," he whispers, his fingertips discovering new paths now, mapping the delicate architecture of your wrist bones. "What do we see?"

In your mind's eye, reality softens at the edges, then transforms completely.

The suffocating weight of impending papers dissolves, the tyranny of five-thirty alarms fades to nothing, and the guilt of rushed mornings and forgotten breakfasts melts away like frost in sunshine.

Instead, memory blooms bright and clear as summer.

"There's uh — it smells like hay," you murmur, the sandalwood candle's warmth fading as memory takes over. Your voice grows stronger with each detail. "There's Rosie, our herd dog. And the birds are chirping in the trees." Luigi's fingers trace their way back up your forearm, slower this time, as if drawing out each remembered sensation. "The sun." You can almost feel its warmth on your skin, that particular kind of heat that's been absent since fall break left you stranded in winter's gray embrace.

"That's beautiful," Luigi breathes, his words carrying an undercurrent of something deeper, something that makes 'you're beautiful' hover unspoken in the air between you. "What do you feel now?” The question lands softly as he observes the transformation in you — shoulders that have finally surrendered their tension, lips curved in a gentle smile, hands that have shed their anxious chill for a living warmth.

"I feel comfort." The words come with a small nod, the first movement you've made since closing your eyes, since letting him guide you away from the chaos in your head. Your voice holds a certainty that wasn't there before. "I feel safe."

Luigi's touch anchors you back to the present moment, gentle but grounding. "Yeah? And we'll keep that feeling, hm?" His hands find their way to your thighs, the touch carrying no threat, no expectation – just steady warmth and presence. "Even when we're away from our safe place, we can find it still."

Something breaks open then — maybe it's the simple humanity of it all, how Luigi offered not just a listening ear but a path back from the edge where dropping out had started to look like your only escape.

Your chin trembles, and behind your closed eyelids, tears begin to gather. All you can manage is a soft "Mhmm," anything more threatening to unleash the emotion building in your chest.

"Ohh," Luigi's gentle tsk carries nothing but understanding as his thumb finds your jawline, the touch tender as a whisper. His soft coo acknowledges what he already knows — that this reaction is natural, expected even.

He'd been here himself once, tears falling during his first time with this very exercise.

When you open your eyes, a watery laugh escapes as you reach to brush away the tears tracking down your cheeks, but Luigi's already there, his thumbs gentle against your skin. "You did great," he beams at you, his smile radiant with a pride usually reserved for mountain summits or graduation stages. "Not so hard, is it?"

Your head tips forward into his touch as another laugh bubbles up, accompanied by fresh tears — a release valve finally opening on emotions bottled since semester's start. "What the fuck did you just do?"

Luigi's grin is soft as he catches each tear with careful thumbs, taking in your flushed cheeks, the way emotion thickens your voice. "I fuckin' popped that big ass dark cloud over your head." There's gentle knowing in his tone – the cloud will gather again, but now you have a way to part it, to find light.

Sniffles punctuate the quiet as you lean into his touch with a sigh, studying him with new eyes. The image of Frat Boy Luigi feels like a distant myth now; trying to picture him dominating a beer pong table seems as misplaced as a lion in a library. "Why did you switch to CS?" The question comes carefully as his hands migrate from your cheeks to your neck, thumbs finding pressure points behind your ears that he somehow knows to touch, pressing gentle circles that make your shoulders drop another fraction.

"You want the honest answer?"

Your nod is immediate.

"I was good at psychology — too good, honestly. Reading people, understanding their patterns, their defense mechanisms." His words come measured, thoughtful. "It began to feel... manipulative? Like I was collecting everyone's source code without any permission."

You raise an eyebrow, shooting him an inquisitive grin. "So, you fuck with actual source code now instead?"

"Exactly." Luigi nods, but something deeper flickers in his gaze. "With programming, everything is transparent. The computer does exactly what you tell it to do — there's no hidden agenda, no complex histories. If something breaks, you can fix it by looking at the code."

Understanding hums through you as your hands seek his, drawing them into your own, missing their warmth for reasons you can't quite name. "What happens when you start looking at people like code?"

The playfulness drains from his expression, his fingers going still against yours.

"That's actually why I switched." He straightens, fingers weaving gently through yours. "I started seeing everyone like programs running on faulty logic. Started thinking I could debug them, optimize their processes." His laugh carries a edge of self-reproach. "God, I sound like such an ass."

"No, keep going.”

"There was this girl in my Abnormal Psych class. She had anxiety, pretty severe. I thought I understood her patterns so well that I could help her rewrite them." His free hand rakes through his hair. "I ended up making it worse. Way worse. Because people aren't programs — you can't just identify the bug and patch it. Every 'bug' is part of who they are."

You study his face in the mixed glow of candlelight and distant desk lamp, catching shadows of old guilt in his expression.

"With code, there's always a right answer. A most efficient solution. But humans — fuck," he draws your hand to his cheek, releasing a soft sigh. "We're messy. Contradictory. Beautiful because of it, not in spite of it. The moment I started seeing people as systems to optimize was the moment I stopped seeing them as people."

You study him — the way he cradles your hand, his own need for contact as evident as yours. "Is that why you're so focused on being present? Not analyzing?"

His smile returns, gentler than before. "Yeah. Turns out the best way to understand someone isn't by debugging them." His lips trace down your wrist, following the same path his fingers had taken earlier, recreating that feeling of safety and home. "Being here. Feeling. Letting things be messy and imperfect and real."

You feel yourself melting further — transformed into something soft and vulnerable you never expected to become.

By all rights, you should be alone in your dorm right now, buried under your duvet until the hypnotic loop of slime videos lulled you to sleep.

Instead, here you are, receiving wisdom from someone you'd once dismissed as just another beer pong champion, your best friend's crush turned into something far more complex.

Fuck.

"And how's that working out for you?" A grin spreads across your face, warmth flooding your cheeks as your heart performs an impromptu butterfly migration. "Letting things be messy?"

He moves with purposeful grace, drawing you onto his lap, his back finding the carefully arranged pillows behind him. "Well," he murmurs, warm hands sliding beneath your sweater to grip your waist, carrying the same gentle certainty as before, "I haven't color-coded a single spread sheet this week, and somehow the world hasn't ended."

Your laugh comes out breathless as your arms find their way around his shoulders. He gazes up at you through half-lidded eyes, those stark black eyebrows relaxed like brushstrokes across his features, each detail seeming divinely crafted.

"You're different than what I expected." The confession slips out as his hands chart a careful course up your back, then down to trace the curve of your ass, maintaining their unhurried, gentle exploration.

"I won't ask." Luigi's grin carries the weight of familiar labels; valedictorian, hazer of newcomers, dean's list fixture, beer pong legend, app development champion, notorious panty dropper. "But, thanks anyway."

Your lips crash together with sudden urgency, your hips finding their home in the space between his crossed legs, your body molding against his like a missing puzzle piece. "It all worked out in the end," you murmur against his mouth, teeth grazing his bottom lip as your hips roll downward. "Wouldn't you say?"

Luigi nods slowly, lips brushing yours with each word. "I'll say whatever you want me to." His grin is a contradiction — shy yet heated, pure yet hungry — as crimson spreads across his cheeks and creeps over the bridge of his nose.

A moan escapes you, startling in its intensity, warmth flooding your cheeks.

His hips rise to meet yours, a deep groan rumbling through him as the hardness in his jeans presses against your inner thighs. “Is this the kind of messy you were talking about?” you breathe between heated, spit-slick kisses, your hips rocking with a deliberate, determined rhythm.

Luigi seems to be unraveling beneath you, his hands exploring every inch your oversized sweater allows, hiked up to your bellybutton. He watches intently as you grind against him, the obvious tent in his sweatpants twitching in response to the attention.

“The kind of messy that practically comes with a free therapy session before making you come in your sweatpants?” A smirk curls your lips, playful and devious, your gaze locked on Luigi, who looks as if he’s found heaven.

“Gonna make me come, are you?” His breath quickens, a familiar tingling sensation building deep within him.

“Only if I get to,” you reply, your words igniting a spark. His right hand slips down the front of your leggings, his palm replacing the stiffness of his groin, fingers teasing momentarily as they gather the arousal dampening your panties.

You tug the waistband of his sweatpants down below his hipbones, revealing his cock — proud yet desperate, glistening with pre-come. The whine that escapes him as you begin to stroke him speaks volumes of his growing need.

“Look at me,” Luigi begs, and your attention snaps back to him, too captivated by his size and the slickness on your knuckles to focus on anything else, wrist working in rhythmic timing over his length. “God, you’re fucking—” He’s cut off by a chorus of moans, hot and steady, as waves of arousal spill onto his abdomen.

Your hand instinctively moves to your mouth, tasting him—bitter at first, but sweet on the finish.

How perfect.

His breath comes in ragged gasps as his fingers work their magic inside you, curving just right to find that sweet spot that makes your eyes flutter and a wave of warmth wash over you. “You can do it,” he whispers, his free hand trailing gentle touches up and down your forearms, mirroring the soothing gestures he’d offered only thirty minutes prior to this. “I’ve got you.”

Your hands are still slick with his release, but it doesn’t matter. You lean forward, tangling your fingers in his hair, your lips crashing together in a desperate hunger punctuated by whimpers that signal your impending climax.

“Fuck,” you curse, your hips moving in rhythm with his fingers thrusting inside you, still gentle yet insistent. His palm presses against your clit, creating a friction that pushes you right to the edge.

His praises shower over you like a sweet melody. “That’s it, baby,” he coos, your head tilting back as you ride the wave of pleasure until you can’t anymore. “That’s my girl.”

[averagewriter-inthedark]

The Crow & His Charmer 🐍 | Kaz Brekker Imagine P.2

My masterlists

continuation of this imagine

Characters & Pairings: Kaz Brekker x gang leader!reader (romantic).

content warnings: profanity, light fluff, rivals-to-lovers, smoking, mentions of violence, gang activity, threats, typical SOC themes, canon divergence. | female!reader (she/her)—no use of Y/n | wc: 2.1k

Premise: Following the success of the Ice Court heist, Kaz Brekker and the Snake Charmer return to Ketterdam newfound allies and a little something that teeters the edge of, 'I can't stand you but can't get you off my mind."

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

Kaz’s cane clicked along the pavement as he strolled up to the entrance of ‘The Snake Pit,’ located on the opposite side deep into the Barrel, making heads at the sight of the owner of The Crow Club nodding his head to the bouncer who returned the gesture as she opened the curtain for him to pass through. 

“What’s Kaz Brekker doing on this side of the Barrel?” 

“I thought the Serpents and the Dregs were lifelong rivals…”

“Didn’t you hear, lass? Brekker managed to charm the Charmer. Or the Charmer charmed him depending how you see it.” 

Lips curling up at the whispers behind him, Kaz went through the curtain and down the spiral staircase leading into the main floor of the building, smirking at the newly refurbished snake enclosure he paid for following the destruction of the previous one. Destruction he caused. 

“I want fucking crystal, Kaz Brekker.” She told him on the ship back to Ketterdam over a bottle of Fjerdan Brännvin. “No glass, no acrylic, none of that bullshit cheap plastic to save you Kruge. You are going to find the finest crystal on the damn island and you’re going to have my babies’ enclosure rebuilt to a fucking T. And it better be filled with everything they need otherwise we’re going to have a fucking problem. Am I clear?” 

For the amount of money they just earned, Kaz would’ve rebuilt the whole Snake Pit had he destroyed it. Toasting her glass with his, Kaz saluted, “Crystal, Charmer.”

Sure, it was a little uncalled for. Scaring the patrons half to death with a dozen loose snakes. Risking the safety of the animals. But it was a means to an end. How else was he supposed to draw out the Snake Charmer into the light and get her to team up with him and his Crows on their journey to the Ice Court. They needed more muscle, and she had that. 

And thank the Saints, it all worked out in the end. They broke into the Ice Court, rescued Yul-Bayur, dealt with Van Eck, and got their fucking 30 million Kruge. Of course, nothing about the heist was easy. It was the most grueling, exhausting, and downright worse job of their life that it’s a miracle any of them survived. 

And besides millions of Kruge--once split--Kaz and the Charmer walked away with something more…intimate. Strong enough to put an end to their bitter rivalry. Succeeding a mutual respect that leaned toward admiration. 

It was why none of the Serpents paid any attention to Kaz as he migrated through the club towards the Charmer’s office. Why her main bodyguards posted outside her door simply nodded and allowed Kaz to walk in unannounced.  

He found the Charmer seated at her desk, cigarette in one hand and telephone receiver in the other while leaning to speak into the transmitter perched on the surface of the desk. Kaz eyed the telephone with curiosity, it being one of the newest investments to her office as they were slowly becoming popular among establishments. Kaz had yet to purchase one, more keen on sending physical notes to people using a messenger. 

“I’ve told you this time and time again, Bram,” She snapped, agitated by the person on the other end of the line. “You had every opportunity to pay back the loan in increments prior to the final night of Nachtspel, otherwise you were expected to pay in full by midnight tonight. And it is,” she opens her pocket watch, “precisely half past. I’m very impatient when it comes to my money, Bram. So what’s it going to be?” 

Kaz smirked at the Charmer, who narrowed her brows at him as he crossed the space to approach her desk. Then she tilted her head, listening to the man on the other end list off excuses to why he was unable to pay the loan. The loan she gave him months prior, even giving him grace by offering the chance to pay it off monthly instead of waiting till the last minute where she’d want the entire payment in full. 

Stealing a cigarette from her open tin, Kaz leaned forward when she flicked open her lighter and held it to him. Reeling back once it’s lit to steal a glass from her bar cart off to the side and pour himself a glass of Rum before settling in one of her oak wood chairs. 

A heavy chuckle escaped her, the Charmer closing her eyes to rub her temple while careful not to let any ash on her clothes. “Oh, Bram, you really know how to piss me off, huh?” Kaz could faintly make out the high-pitched voice from the receiver trying to beg his way out. But she wasn’t having it. “No, no, no, don’t act like I don’t know what you’ve been up to. Not only did I hear from one of my guys that the restaurant--that I gave you the loan for--was gaining attraction during my time away, that you were earning enough to make payments every full moon, but you have been seen playing tables at The Silver Six four days out of the week!” 

Kaz whistled under his breath while blowing out smoke, chuckling as he tipped back the Rum. He didn’t feel bad for the guy. Not one bit. After all, she gave him money to start up his restaurant, then gambled away its earnings. If anything, he felt sorry for what the guy was about to lose, but maybe he should’ve thought twice than screwing with the Charmer. 

“And not to mention the mere fact your pretty wife has been flaunting diamonds and rubies--covered in silk from Shu Han and fucking fur from Fjerda--you really thought I wouldn’t find out?” An empty glass was passed to Kaz, and he refilled it. Watching her gulp half of it before spitting out, “yeah, well you had your opportunity, Bram, and I don’t give second chances. You’ve got till sunrise to gather 150 thousand Kruge--.” Her brows pinched as she was cut off, face consorting to absolute rage, “It would’ve been 100 thousand had you paid me on time!! You had ten months--ten months and you let greed get in the way! You brought this upon yourself, Bram, now it’s time to deal with the consequences. Pawn off your wife's precious gems, steal from your neighbors--I don’t fucking care! When my guy comes to your door at sunrise you better have 150 thousand Kruge or you can kiss your restaurant and all that you have goodbye!” 

The receiver met the phone handle with a slam, the charmer bellowing out a “Ugh!!” while pounding a frustrated fist on the desk and snatching her glass to down the remaining alcohol. 

“I take it that didn’t go well,” Kaz mused, lifting the filter to his lips to take a drag, watching her do the same with hers. 

“Don’t anger me more than I already am, Brekker.” 

That made him chuckle, “Will he have the money? Or should I go ahead and add restaurant co-owner to my list of investments.” 

“What makes you think you get any say in what happens to my restaurant?” It wasn’t bold of her to assume the establishment would be hers. There was no way in hell Bram would accumulate 150 thousand Kruge by sunrise. 

“Darling, I thought we had an agreement,” he sets down his glass, eyes full of mischief, “The Crow Club remains mine; the Snake Pit stays yours, and then anything added on is a…mutual collaboration.” 

“Hmmmm,” her pointer finger circled around the rim of the glass, “Well, we’ll see about that, Brekker. He won't have the money--that’s for sure. And if he by Saints above does, then the matters of how is not my concern, so long as he meets the expected amount.” 

“And what if he decides to burn down the establishment?” It wasn’t uncommon for people who take loans to attempt to destroy the business if they cannot pay it back. That way whoever gave them the loan cannot own the property as retaliation. 

“I’ve got men posted there,” she smirks, tapping away the ash on the tray between them. “He won’t torch that place once he sees them. And even if he were to manage, it's not like he can claim the insurance for it. My lawyers are drafting a lawsuit as we speak.” The woman leans back in her chair, “I’ll get my money one way or another.”

Kaz leaned back in his own chair with a hum, perching his cane on the side of the desk. “We’ll settle the details of the restaurant’s ownership at another time--.”

“Kaz, for Saint’s sake--.”

“I came by to make sure we’re still on for tomorrow evening.”

The woman’s expression turned incredulous, checking her pocket watch once more to which she then raised a brow, “You came all this way--at nearly one in the morning--to ask if I’m still having dinner with you tomorrow?” 

Kaz would not grant her the satisfaction of him blushing, remaining stoic to the point his jaw nearly cramped, giving only a shrug, “It wasn’t that far.”

This time she spluttered a sound, “Kaz, you live in the East Stave. This is the fucking West Stave.” 

Again, he shrugged, “I needed the walk.” 

“Oh my God,” she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Why didn’t you just call?”

“I don’t have a telephone, you know that.”

“So send a messenger!” she couldn’t contain her grin any further. “You didn’t have to walk all the way over here.”

“Well I did.”

“Saint’s above,” the smile never left as she snatched the bottle of Rum to refill her glass. “Might as well stay, you know.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude,” he voices, unsure about the offer. He’d visited the Snake Pit several times since their return to the island, but usually it was with the Crows or during the day for a few hours when the place was closed and the two gang leaders could talk in peace without the annoyance of patrons gapping at them. Since he revealed the Charmer’s identity, the Snake Pit had garnered more attraction than ever--everyone wanting to get a glimpse at the woman who managed to stay under the radar for years while pissing off Kaz and Pekka Rollings. 

Oh how the tables turned. Now the Crow and the Charmer were considered Ketterdam’s most powerful duo. Kaz controlling the East Stave, and the Charmer controlling the West. 

“We’ve got plenty of room and I’m sure you want to be the first to find out whether or not the restaurant is ours.”

Kaz straightened in his seat, a knowing look plastered on his face, “Ours?” 

She rolled her eyes, putting back the bottle of rum once she tipped off his glass, “Don’t fucking look at me like that.” She points a finger at him, face serious, “The place is on my turf, Brekker. I get the higher cut.”

“Oh, Charmer, you wound me.” 

“You’ll live,” she playfully mocks.

“How much are we talking exactly?”

“Seventy-thirty.” 

Kaz shakes his head, “No, thirty-five.” 

“You want thirty-five?” She tilts her head in challenge, “Then you can cover more of the property tax. How about that?” 

Saint’s, she was just like him. So much so it had Kaz grinning, and he was thankful it was only them two in the office. No witnesses to see the man they called Dirtyhands delighted by the woman in front of him. 

“What if instead of the property tax, I cover the import?” He suggests, leaning into her space as she extinguishes the remaining filter of her cigarette, smirking when she visibly reacts to the proposition. “After all, I own Fifth Harbor.” 

“Thirty-five and the import tax?” she reiterated, folding her hands on the surface of the desk, eyeing Kaz like the businesswoman she was about to crack a deal. 

Pleased to have got her where he wanted, Kaz lifts up his glass of rum, smirk widening. “Thirty-five for my cut, and I will pay the import taxes and deal with whatever tariffs that might come our way.” 

She appeared to be deep in thought, as though pondering over her options. But by now Kaz could read the Charmer like a book. They were similar in nature. Thought alike, conducted business alike. Knew when the other was bluffing or being disingenuous. 

Slowly but surely, the Charmer raised her glass, clicking against his while never straying her gaze, “Very well, Mr. Brekker.” They both shot down the Rum at the same time. Sealing the deal. 

Who would’ve thought a crow could charm the snake. Or maybe it was the snake who charmed the crow. Whichever it was, one thing was clear.

No one in the Barrel could ever go against the crow and his charmer. 

[thistransient]

thanks for answering the questino about colonization. i was genuinely curious as i'm southeast asian and at uni we learn the theory about how austronesians migrated all over the region from taiwan, so their racism towards us makes me sad... and very cool to learn about the indigenous peoples of taiwan though, :o

Ooh I see! Sorry to be immediately suspicious, I have gotten some antagonistic political comments/messages in the past. Yes, the pervasive racism (including exploitation of migrant workers) is a less-discussed ugly side of Taiwan. At least in terms of legislation there's been some slow incremental improvement but nothing dramatic. I have heard from an indigenous acquaintance here that strangers even tend to assume she's Southeast Asian rather than Taiwanese, which I think illustrates something about the general mindset/lack of awareness.

[darkeagleruins]

When they say the government isn’t paying for Haitians to come here, what they really mean is the government isn’t DIRECTLY paying for Haitians to come here.

The power of pass-through NGOs:

Agency for International Development grant (2021)

Amount: $7,000,000

Recipient: International Organization For Migration

Purpose: 24 months, incrementally funded award, FY21 $650k, logistics IOM Haiti

Country: Haiti

[dontlookoutside]

Whale Fever

11/12/2024 ﹏𓂁﹏ It has been a while since I've gotten a cold. One deep dark secret of mine is that... I love being sick. I like being able to justify my lack of drive to be productive... and being able to stay in bed all day, shamelessly. I skipped class for the first time today because I couldn't get out of bed... and it feels good. The days leading up to this have been busy. Whales. Whales are ruining my life. Painting: a project about personal beliefs was due yesterday... I spent about three weeks on it... and it was of a humpback whale; on one canvas alive and swimming, and the other just a pile of bones in the deep-sea. I stayed up until 2 working on this for a few nights in a row. I would walk back home in the pouring rain and then endure some nearly sleepless nights. Tomorrow I need to present my painting in front of my class and talk about it. I am scared. Edit: I did my talk and got emotional talking about whales. A shaky voice and heartrate of 163 bpm... what a life I live. Essay: alongside this pair of paintings comes an essay explaining the meaning behind the work and how it correlates to each detail. The meaning: "accepted environmental helplessness". Did you know that whales, especially orcas, are incredibly polluted? These things called persistent organic pollutants (POPs) absorb into their blubber. They enter the sea by runoff, move up the food chain, and eventually reach whales. As whales migrate, they metabolize their toxic blubber and grow susceptible to disease. They do not die instantly and will often still have offspring, but will then pass down these POPs to their offspring, who will most likely suffer the same fate as their parents. I read a research article that found evidence of mothers growing less polluted than their calves BECAUSE so much of their pollution transfers into their baby. How sad. Biology: the first presentation I will give in... I don't know how many years... about a certain species and the reasons why/how we should put conservation efforts towards them. My topic: whales. Is this a surprise? No. I am happy about my topic but very scared to give a presentation. I don't care if I speak in front of thousands of people, but if it is a small class of 15 people I freak out. Wish me luck. Lecture: I have been made aware that there will be a visitor coming to my school to discuss whale conservation. Will I be there: yes. Will I ask a lot of questions: yes. I am looking forward to this. Now that I've spent this entire day in my room, I fear that I will never want to leave again. It reminds me of my 8 months of NEET-hood; awful when so prolonged, but nice on occasion. Staying home all day sounds wonderful when you are constantly busy, but being busy sounds wonderful when you are home all day for months. These things must be taken in small increments, or you will go crazy like I did. A few days ago, I went to my first 'real' anime convention. Whilst I enjoy anime very much, I didn't go because of that. I just wanted to see what the artists were selling. Some of the booths were so cool, and others were so lewd... terrifying. I got a cute Mimitchi keychain, though. Happy (´∀`). I saw a few Lolitas and was very envious of them. I have one JSK, but have never worn a coord out before. Could I be... a poser??? But I did do something out of my comfort-zone! I wore heels. This may seem trivial to some, but I am kind of tall (and insecure), so being even taller made me feel nervous... but somehow classy? Anyways, it made me more comfortable with high heels because I have always loved them but been too scared of tall-ness. I can also run very quickly in them. At this convention there was a vendor selling swords. I began asking him about his selection and prices, but he seemed really confused like I was joking with him... but I am very serious about wanting a sword. Unfortunately none of the handcrafted ones suited my desires. Someday. You may be wondering what I did immediately after returning home from the convention... it is funny, you should know by now. I painted for 6 hours.

[layover-linux-official]

I didn't quite get all my tentpole goals for my programming language project done this weekend, but I got much closer than I originally expected! I'm hoping to have transpilation to C ready by the end of my week to show my friend. I did start setting up program entrypoints in uv, though, and there's something emotionally magical about typing into the stdin of a process, and have it spit out a processed version of your input. Like... oh my god! That's my lexer, and my parser! They work! This is a thing I can play with now! This process is also forcing me to confront some things earlier than I expected, like the way the built-in Error type works. In the earlier prototype this was basically just an enum of a couple options, and no further detail. But needing to represent errors as a C type has pushed me to actually make them structures with multiple fields:

Format string (TODO: printf format rather than Python format), in the final version this will usually be a pointer to a static piece of memory.

Format args.

Parent error (allows for printing a whole traceback).

I wouldn't say I'm thrilled by how much I'm currently having to use PyObject* as a gross hack in my structures right now, but it helps my code play nice with the Python garbage collection infrastructure, and should make it possible to incrementally migrate to a C implementation later.

[mariacallous]

Germany’s 2021 national election campaign to replace Angela Merkel as chancellor became a competition among various candidates to imitate her cautious political style. The ultimate winner of the election—Olaf Scholz, the leader of the Social Democratic Party—demonstrated his affinity by avoiding any hint of polarizing rhetoric during the campaign. He even adopted Merkel’s signature hand gesture from photo ops and press conferences, pressing together his fingertips from opposite hands to form what had come to be known as the “Merkel rhombus.”

But in the immediate post-Merkel era, it was not her many imitators, but rather Scholz’s vice chancellor and minister for economics and climate change, the 53-year-old Green Party leader Robert Habeck, who emerged as the country’s most popular politician. For years previous, Habeck had been the most prominent exception to the trend of Merkel mimicry on Germany’s political scene. Whereas Merkel offered agendas comprised of a series of small incremental steps, Habeck preferred to start political discussions with an abstract analysis of the status quo. Whereas Merkel would justify policies by presenting them as lacking any viable alternative, Habeck declared that “nothing is alternative-less.”

The person least surprised by his initial success as climate minister might have been Habeck himself. They were the results of a plan he long ago developed for the Green Party. His vision has always been to transform the party—both its image among the German public, and its members’ own self-understanding. But what would remain the same would be the party’s desire for radical changes in society, especially on climate policy. “Whoever votes for us knows that they’re changing something of enormous consequence,” he said in 2019.

Rather than Merkel, Habeck has cited former U.S. President Barack Obama as an inspiration for political leadership. Like Obama, Habeck was a successful author before he was a politician, and at the source of both men’s charisma is their reflective use of language—the use of rhetoric to simultaneously project both emotion and doubt, intimacy and remove. But the resemblance also carries over to the content of their respective political projects. Like Obama, Habeck is trying to translate the energy of activism into the service of practical policy. The Green Party is Habeck’s vehicle. It’s just not yet clear if he will reach his goal. The current evidence suggests he’s instead moving in the opposite direction.

Habeck has recently declared his intention to run as the Green Party’s chancellor candidate in next year’s national election, to potentially replace Scholz. But Habeck’s personal popularity never durably translated to his party more broadly, or to the policies necessary to stem climate change. Three years after Habeck and his party entered government, the Greens are in greater disarray than ever before. This past week, after a series of disappointing regional elections, the leadership of both the national party and its youth wing resigned, the latter vowing to create a more activist party of their own. And climate policy has rarely felt more marginalized in national politics, crowded out by concerns over migration and refugees.

And so, the longer he stays in office, the more Habeck may be deepening the social divisions over climate policy that he always wanted to overcome.

In his first weeks as climate minister, Habeck seemed to follow Scholz’s lead in avoiding the spotlight. But then came Russia’s invasion of Ukraine and the epochal consequences. Politicians were obliged to respond to the dramatically changed political circumstances, and Habeck didn’t shy from the challenge.

For months on end, Habeck made regular appearances on nightly newscasts announcing new infrastructure to replace Russian gas; offering tips to German consumers about how much energy could be saved by taking shorter showers; or delivering chastising homilies about Germany’s moral responsibility for not taking the origins of its energy into account for so long. He was occupied with braiding the various strands of the crisis into a portrait of its wider meaning—the way the war in Ukraine illuminated the structural weaknesses of the German economy, the urgency of climate policy, and the very fragility of freedom.

These early interventions were greeted with ubiquitous praise—including from parts of German society, such as populist tabloids and traditionalist CEOs, that had never previously been sympathetic to the Greens. Habeck earned a 60 percent approval rating for his work as climate and economics minister. And the popularity of the vice chancellor carried over to his party at first. According to contemporaneous polls, the German public believed by a wide margin the Greens were the party most capable of addressing the country’s problems.

This was the culmination of Habeck’s long-gestating strategy for the Greens. His plan was to start with the activists and their sympathizers who had always comprised the party’s base. He would then expand beyond their ideological milieu by persuading those same activists that if the boundaries of their existing political commitments were wider, they would not have to compromise their principles in reaching out to other parts of the public. The only way to govern in a way that could effectively change the country was to arrange constant dialogue across all of society.

“The job is to understand our time,” Habeck said in 2018. “The party that most succeeds at identifying our era’s contradictions and showing paths out will win.” This is what is at stake for Habeck in the transformation of the Greens into Germany’s new hegemonic party of the center-left. The Greens must become the vehicle for gathering social consensus behind the idea that climate change requires radical solutions, from tens of billions of euros of investment in renewable energy to higher carbon taxes to new regulations on industry.

The Greens had always described themselves as an anti-party party. That was an expression used to describe the party’s closeness to its grassroots activists and their collective distance from standard parliamentary politics. Under Habeck, the Greens have become an anti-party party of an entirely different kind—one that is trying to transcend the country’s history of ideological division. In one 2018 interview, he admitted, “I hate moral rigor and ideology.”

Habeck’s distinct approach to managing the Green Party has clearly also informed his work as minister of economics and climate. From the beginning of his term, the vice chancellor exploited classically conservative rhetoric for a program of progressive change. When Habeck made his initial appeal for a dramatic expansion of the country’s wind-power infrastructure, he did so as part of an argument for “ecological patriotism.”

In the early months of the war in Ukraine, Habeck embraced a new role as a teller of uncomfortable truths about Germany’s patterns of consumption, earning credit for acknowledging what other politicians tried to repress as part of their own calculations of political advantage. Even his pep talks to the nation, as it anxiously approached its first winter facing the threat of energy shortages, were threaded with a certain wistfulness. “We know that we’re going to have to live with many impositions,” he said in August 2022, “but we also know why we’re doing so.” In a more philosophical mode, he reminded Germans that their consumption habits have always had a negative impact on the planet. “Our daily life leaves a trail of destruction behind on the Earth,” he said in one evening newscast.

This rhetoric has been a reversal of the rhetoric from the national election, in which every candidate for chancellor both acknowledged the reality of climate change but also tried to downplay the changes to normal life that would be necessary to address it. The suggestion was that everything would have to change but also everything could remain the same. Habeck was now putting an end to that illusion—and it briefly made him Germany’s most beloved politician.

There is a flipside to Habeck’s post-ideological transformation of the Green Party: It has privileged the amassing of political capital over the spending of it. Habeck has won support for ambitious climate policy, but he doesn’t act as if he enjoys the legitimacy to enact it at a time of war. To ask Germans to sacrifice the comfort of a perfectly warm home or shower is one thing. To ask Germany to risk any aspect of its national security for the sake of the climate’s future needs is a step that Habeck clearly believes he can’t justify.

Notably, Habeck hasn’t treated the war in Ukraine, and the reduction in access to Russian gas that has resulted, as a particular opportunity to accelerate Germany’s transition to renewables. In 2022, he did manage to pass an initial package of climate policies that would accelerate the expansion of the country’s renewable energy infrastructure, including by loosening permitting regulations. But those efforts have been overshadowed by his insistence on guaranteeing the existing volume of German energy without any interruption.

That, in turn, has meant searching for new sources of fossil fuels. In March 2022, Habeck traveled to Qatar to pose for photos with Doha’s leaders and tout the potential for new “energy partnerships”—that is, for new contracts to guarantee delivery of gas years into the future. He also gave his consent to the German government funding new gas fields in Africa and offered new subsidies for gasoline for cars. He fast-tracked new liquid natural gas infrastructure in Germany’s North Sea, infrastructure that the Greens have always vehemently opposed. And he explicitly gave permission to restart coal power plants that had already been shut down.

Habeck has done all this to respond to an unexpected crisis and the entirely expected German fears that it has produced. He talks constantly about doing everything in his power to maintain German “wealth”—not because wealth is inherently virtuous, but because he argues its absence would lead to social disorder. This is the fatalistic side to Habeck’s intellectualism: the sense that social consensus for policy changes rests on a basis of material cohesion, and that, for even the greatest literary talent, there are limits to rhetoric’s ability to create consensus. “Politics isn’t about knowing how to apply power, it’s about knowing how to be humble about power,” Habeck wrote in his 2018 book Who We Could Be.

For the Greens’ traditional base, this was the downside of having made an intellectual, rather than an activist, the leader of Germany’s traditional climate-focused party. Climate policy was a vehicle for Habeck to achieve a deeper aim—embodying a new modern sensibility of political responsibility that reconciles realism with progressivism. And what is more responsible than recognizing reality has changed at a time of war?

By the spring of 2023, after a winter of economic anxiety, the government agreed to a revised climate program over several days of negotiations among all three coalition parties. The new consensus had moved so far from the Greens’ original vision that it was hard not to treat the changes as an imposed defeat. The government dissolved binding carbon-emission targets for individual industrial sectors, weakened environmental regulations on infrastructure projects, and carved out various loopholes for the legally mandated transition over the next several decades to carbon-neutral home-heating technologies.

Habeck achieved only minimal face-saving concessions in return. The parties agreed to accelerate the construction of highways across the country—but those highways would now have to be flanked by solar panels. There was no indication that the German government was willing to abandon its climate goals—but also no indication those goals were urgent enough to justify deploying the full regulatory power of the state to achieve them. Habeck nevertheless soldiered onto news talk shows immediately after the announcement of the compromise to sell it as a sign of progress. “One has to say,” he said in a video published on Twitter, “it’s just not possible to achieve more in this coalition.”

If Habeck’s favorite rhetorical devices—the indulgence of paradoxes, the shifts to higher levels of generality—seem to be drawn from sophisticated types of discourse, that may be because he knows that his party is still fundamentally comprised of well-off intellectuals. The more urban and high-income a German constituency, the more likely it is to vote Green. This was true at the founding of the party four decades ago and hasn’t changed since. In the 2021 national election, only 8 percent of working-class voters supported the Greens.

“We will be poorer than we were before,” Habeck declared at the outset of the war. But the term we obscures as much as it reveals. It’s Habeck and the government he’s serving that will decide exactly who will be poorer. This is where intellectual exercise meets the hard constraints of material politics. Who should pay, and how much, for the investments necessary to transition to renewable energy? On what timeline should that transition take place?

And who should be forced to pay more for their existing energy consumption? Germany’s sudden wartime scarcity of gas has already obliged Habeck to offer an answer to this question. Over the summer in 2022, his ministry announced a plan to universally charge German gas consumers a fee, proportionate to their usage, that would be transferred to energy wholesalers. The policy immediately came under attack: Why should German citizens, many of whom were struggling to make ends meet, be forced to bail out energy companies? The government’s immediate response was to lower energy taxes on German consumers to even out the bailout surcharge. But with that decision, the energy-saving and climate-mitigating effects of higher gas prices were canceled out too.

The episode was only a prelude to Habeck’s next political failure, one that did even greater damage to his reputation. In the spring of 2023, Habeck proposed a new energy law banning the installation of new gas and oil-fired heating systems as of the start of the following year. Homeowners would instead be obliged to install more expensive renewable heating systems, such as heat pumps. When a preliminary draft of the law leaked, the conservative opposition protested in fiery terms. The Christian Democratic Union’s national leader, Friedrich Merz, claimed that Habeck’s ministry had lost touch with “normal” people, while the party leader in the state of Thuringia claimed Habeck was trying to create an “energy Stasi,” a reference to the eastern German secret police that used to compile dossiers on citizens’ private lives.

But Habeck’s bigger problem was that his own coalition partners saw the proposed law as an invitation to do damage to him personally. The free-market Free Democratic Party demanded a litany of loopholes be introduced to better protect homeowners, at the expense of the law’s effectiveness as climate policy; when those demands were met, the party claimed the law needed to be scrapped entirely. Olaf Scholz’s Social Democratic Party was more circumspect, but the chancellor assured the public that he would defend working people’s concerns in the final version of the law, while doing little to dispel the depiction of Habeck in the tabloid press as a political dilettante. A watered-down version of the heating law eventually passed in the summer, but not without major damage having been done to Habeck’s reputation, with half of Germans claiming they wanted him to resign.

And so Habeck’s leadership has not changed the basic dynamics of climate policy. The other parties still tend to indulge in scare tactics to highlight precisely the moral costs of prioritizing it too highly: If coal is phased out too quickly, as the Green Party has advocated, Germans’ electricity bills could skyrocket. And a high carbon tax would similarly take money out of the pockets of hardworking German families through their utility bills and at the gas station. (How else are families with young kids supposed to get around other than with German-made cars?) And, yes, regulations making it harder to build single-family homes might reduce emissions—but why rob people of enjoying a backyard of their own where they can one day host a grill party?

After two years in office, the Greens are now both leaderless and rudderless. Habeck is a candidate for chancellor but seemingly in name only. And his capacity for reconciliation as climate minister has been tested beyond its very limits. Not every contradiction he has encountered has been able to be dissolved in some higher intellectual synthesis. And so he has exposed a truth he had tried to deny: that it’s in the nature of politics that some policy dilemmas can only be resolved by forcefully taking one side—precisely against the other.

[joyisresistance]

Delighting in the details

I hike the same trails several days a week. You would think that after walking on those trails hundreds of times, I would get bored of the scenery. First of all, the scenery is gorgeous, so I can't imagine ever getting tired of it:

But I also find a lot of delight in visiting the same forest trails over and over, and watching how the trails change over time.

Sometimes the changes are big and drastic, like when a tree falls across the trail. In the aftermath of that kind of cataclysm, I can see what neighboring trees have been damaged, imagine the impact of the trunk when it hit the ground, see the shattered stump or the upturned roots. I can also be amazed and grateful a day or two later, when the vigilant parks service has sent a chainsaw crew to clear the trail.

But more often, the changes are tiny and incremental. It is early spring, so I have been watching the growth of the skunk cabbage in the wetlands: they started as tiny green shoots, but now their leaves are starting to take on their distinctive shape, and in a few more weeks they will send up their stinky yellow flowers. In the fall, it is fun to watch the progression of mushrooms: sometimes huge mushrooms push their heads out of the dirt in just a day or two, and then get nibbled on by squirrels and slugs before turning brown and mushy. I can watch the progress of rattlesnake plantain as they send up their delicate stalks that take weeks to flower. It's especially exciting to run across a slime mold, and watch its progression as it slowly migrates across a log.

By watching for these details on my daily walks, I can see how vibrant and alive the forest is, how many tiny dramas are playing out beneath my feet.

[edbmails25]

Facing Compatibility Issues During Microsoft 365 Migration? Here's What You Need to Know

Microsoft 365 migration is never just a click-and-go process. Behind every successful move is a thorough compatibility check between systems, services, and user environments. If not done right, compatibility issues surface and disrupt everything from mailbox access to user authentication. These issues are more common than they should be, and they can derail your entire migration strategy.

Here’s a practical look at what causes these compatibility breakdowns and what steps you need to take to prevent them.

Legacy Systems That Don’t Meet Microsoft 365 Standards

Many organizations continue to operate with outdated infrastructure. Systems like Windows 7, older Outlook versions, or Exchange 2010 lack the protocols and security standards required by Microsoft 365. Without modernization, they create roadblocks during migration. For instance, a system that doesn’t support TLS 1.2 or Modern Authentication will fail to connect with Microsoft 365 services.

To prevent this, perform a full compatibility assessment of your OS, Exchange servers, and Outlook clients. Upgrade the environment or establish a hybrid setup that ensures continuity while you transition users.

Authentication Failures Due to Identity Conflicts

Identity and access management is a critical pillar in Microsoft 365. If your existing setup includes outdated AD FS configurations or incomplete Azure AD synchronization, users will face login failures, broken SSO, and token-related issues. Compatibility mismatches between your on-prem directory and cloud directory often go unnoticed until users can’t sign in after cutover.

Define your identity model well in advance. Whether you choose cloud-only, hybrid, or federated, validate it with pilot users. Ensure directory sync, UPN alignment, and conditional access policies are correctly applied.

Unsupported Add-ins and Custom Applications

Custom Outlook add-ins, CRM connectors, or VBA-based automations are often built around legacy environments. These integrations may fail in Microsoft 365 because they rely on outdated APIs or local server paths. Post-migration, users report missing features or broken workflows, which is not a mailbox problem but a compatibility one.

Catalog all active plugins and applications. Check vendor documentation for Microsoft 365 support. Transition to updated versions or re-develop legacy tools using supported APIs like Microsoft Graph.

PST and Archive Data That Can’t Be Imported

PST files from end-user systems or public folder archives frequently carry hidden corruption, non-compliant data formats, or unusually large attachments. These can cause import failures or lead to incomplete data availability after migration.

To avoid surprises, pre-scan PST files using tools that verify integrity. Break large PSTs into manageable sizes. Use modern utilities that support direct PST import with accurate folder mapping and duplicate prevention.

Email Clients and Mobile App Incompatibility

Not all email clients are built to support Microsoft 365. Legacy Android apps, IMAP clients, or older iOS Mail apps often lack support for OAuth or Modern Authentication. Once migrated, users might encounter repeated login prompts or full access loss.

Standardize supported apps in advance. Recommend and configure Outlook for mobile. Use device management policies to enforce security compliance. Disable access for non-compliant clients using conditional access in Microsoft 365 admin settings.

Loss of Mailbox Permissions and Calendar Access

Access issues post-migration are common when shared mailbox permissions or calendar delegation rights aren’t migrated properly. Users may suddenly lose visibility into shared mailboxes or receive errors when trying to access team calendars.

Before migrating, document all mailbox and folder-level permissions. After migration, reapply them using PowerShell scripts or a tool that automates permission preservation. Always validate shared access functionality with test users before expanding the migration to all users.

Conclusion

Compatibility issues don’t happen randomly during Microsoft 365 migrations. They are the result of incomplete planning or assumptions that legacy systems will integrate seamlessly with modern cloud environments. The only way to mitigate them is through comprehensive discovery, pre-validation, and the right migration tooling.

If you want to reduce risk and accelerate your migration with minimal disruption, consider using EdbMails Office 365 migration tool. It simplifies complex moves, retains all mailbox properties and permissions, supports hybrid and tenant-to-tenant scenarios, and ensures seamless migration across environments. It’s a trusted choice for IT teams who need control, flexibility, and reliability.

Additional links:

👉 Export Microsoft 365 Mailbox to PST

👉 Move public folders to office 365

[ameliakeli]

Box to OneDrive Migration Guide for IT Admins

[darkmaga-returns]

Weapons and tactics have evolved over the ages, refiguring the planet many times over.

“Success” eventually becomes a limiting factor as dominant states overpopulate, decay internally and collapse under the weight of their prowess.

Some nations become corrupt, fat and decadent and fall prey to hungry interlopers.

Civilizations rise and fall, unable to support their numbers…Change is usually incrementally imperceptible until “It Hits The Fan.”.

Technologies Prolong the Inevitable

We have so far tricked our way around the Malthusian equation. As with most technological short-cutting of nature, there are tragic side effects.

World populations fueled by “The Green Revolution” soared to the point we have depleted our soils, contaminated our oceans and “fouled our own nest.”

This was enabled by artificial chemical farming leading to a dependence on grain monocultures and confined grain-fed food animals…mechanization and fossil fuels.

Chemical food production economically wiped-out most traditional diversified farms creating a dependency on cheap unhealthy foods and drugs that have ruined the health of the public, maintained unsustainable populations around the globe and shortened lifespans.

More folks “at the dinner table” creates a sense of scarcity and unpleasant competition for money and housing; the result of overcrowded conditions.

Humans are now migrating by the millions to escape stressful crime ridden, war torn, resource depleted mis-managed failed states.  People only undertake long treacherous journeys when their survival is at stake.

[aleciaplzz]

the older I get the more im with the boomers about that damn phone.

like the more i think about it, the migration to another app is actually stupid as fuck. like, at first the pettiness was funny, but now yall just sound like a bunch of addicts securing their next fix. like have you considered going outside? have you even met your neighbors? getting a real hobby? are you not tired of scrolling all day??

like the amount of people saying "how will I learn about xx without tiktok??" is genuinely soo cringe. like, go to a library? where you can find entire books on a subject, instead of having it spoon fed to you in 2 minute increments?

i wish yall had this energy for changing the system that caused this in the first place.

and don't get me wrong, I do believe that facist countries ban apps. I don't think the reasons behind the ban are in good faith. I don't like how people are going to lose their livelihood and jobs.

but the vast majority of you are mentally just toddlers who are getting their tablets taken away and throwing a tantrum over it truly.

[queerbrownvegan]

Desert Ecology: Joshua Trees Are Disappearing

I'm excited to announce my 4th episode of my independent web series, Teaching Climate Together!

Desert ecology looks at how different species have adaptations to the desert, where resources operate differently than in other ecosystems. So, what's happening to Joshua Tree?

Most species have unique adaptation abilities in an extreme climate like the desert. One fascinating aspect of desert ecology is that numerous species are endemic (they are only found here) to the desert. The desert ecosystem is a quarter of the state of California. It spans 26 million acres in California, the Mojave, and the Colorado desert region. It is one of the most biodiverse areas, with over 2,400 species of native plants and hundreds of species of plants and animals.

The biodiversity in the desert is higher than in a pine forest in Northern California. You can find more species in the desert than in other ecosystems in Northern California! The Western Joshua Trees are currently at the forefront of desert conservation recently. As climate change continues to accelerate, the Joshua tree that has one that has been identified to be vulnerable to a changing climate. Joshua Trees are not able to migrate or adapt to a changing environment. Joshua trees migrate very slowly in tiny increments and with climate change they cannot adapt rapidly.

In Joshua Tree National Park, scientists have noted that if we continue business as usual, only 2% of the range will remain suitable habitat in the next 100 years. We are looking at a crisis for this species. Mojave Desert Land Trust and other partners and agencies are working together to implement policies and solutions to protect these ecosystems. The Mojave Desert Land Trust has cultivated a multi-faceted conservation strategy that uses land acquisition, restoration, stewardship, plant cultivation, and education to ensure the long-term preservation of the California desert.

Their service area spans nearly 26 million acres - the Colorado Desert and the entire California portion of the Mojave Desert. Since its founding in 2006, MDLT has protected approximately 120,000 acres of ecologically significant land and grown over 120,000 native plants for restoration and community use. California deserts are one of the largest carbon sequesters compared to forests. Deserts have a lot of vegetation and a whole layer of soil called the crust of the soil that is essentially life and is covered in biological soil crust that is a web of cyanobacteria, lichen, moss, and fungi that is a mat across the desert that helps the plant grow but also holds carbons and puts carbon into the roots of deserts.

Follow the work of Mojave Desert Land Trust and consider supporting their work. https://www.mdlt.org/

Hosts: Isaias Hernandez & Kelly Herbinson, Executive Director , Mojave Desert Land Trust Producers: Maksim Batuyev & Isaias Hernandez & Stranded Astronaut Productions Director: Tehya Jennett & Maxfield Biggs Editors: Tehya Jennett & Maxfield Biggs

[adriankyte-writes]

Forgot to post that I have updooted this.

Guide wants to drink him up, to take that defiance into himself and succor himself and their child with it. To drain Sheppard to the point of death and trickle it back into him in tiny increments, until the man came under his hand. He wants to feed into him the trmarse of a dozen strong men, so he could pull forth more of the defiance.

It would make the brother bond stronger.

It would tie Sheppard to him as tightly as a dart into the resting hammock.

Sheppard would never forgive him