#rootless mode

[virtualizationhowto]

Nerdctl: Docker compatible containerd command line tool

Nerdctl: Docker compatible containerd command line tool @vexpert #vmwarecommunities #100daysofhomelab #homelab #nerdctl #Docker-compatibleCLI #containermanagement #efficientcontainerruntime #lazypulling #encryptedimages #rootlessmode #DockerCompose

Most know and use the Docker command line tool working with Docker containers. However, let’s get familiar with the defacto tool working with containerd containers, nerdctl, a robust docker compatible cli. Nerdctl works in tandem with containerd, serving as a compatible cli for containerd and offering support for many docker cli commands. This makes it a viable option when looking to replace…

[after-witch]

A Barter [Yandere Feitan x Reader]

Title: A Barter [Yandere Feitan x Reader]

Synopsis: Feitan wants one thing. You want something else. 

Word count: 2200ish

Notes: Yandere, kidnapped reader, noncon

God, you’d kill for some books. Not even some. Just one. A single book to pass the time, to retreat into, and above all, to keep you from being so fucking bored.

You’d asked Feitan for some about two weeks ago. Laid out your case as carefully as anything, even written down a list of genres you like, or specific books if he wouldn’t mind, but you ended by affirming that you’d be happy to read anything that he felt like picking up.

He didn’t bother answering. He only stared at you until you left, feeling ashamed, stupid–and more bored than ever. 

It’s amazing, really, how your brain eventually stops firing off all cylinders, stops being stuck in flight-or-fight-mode, after a while. Even a kidnapping can become ordinary. All it takes is a year or so–you don’t exactly have a calendar to keep track–of being kept in a few rotating dingy hideouts by a torturer with a penchant for basements to make you able to think of things other than is-he-going-to-kill-me-or-not.

Things like: what will Feitan do, if you ask him for a book again?  Scoff? Make you beg? Or, perhaps the most likely, simply ignore you once again? He does his fair share of that, for all that he refuses to let you go.

Well.

There’s nothing to do but find out. Even that is a relief from boredom, trying something new: repeatedly asking your captor for some remnant of normality.

So, with a squirming stomach and an awful blend of worry-relief slick in your gut, you push off your mattress on the floor, hop up–

And run right smack into Feitan, who has chosen this exact moment to make his own surprise appearance into the room that has become your own. It startles you both and it’s only his own honed reflexes, you think, that keep him from copying your own startled trip as you almost stumble backwards right onto the dingy hardwood floor.

You catch yourself, without dignity; and it is without dignity that you manage the only verbal response you can, a shaky, uncertain: 

“Um.”

Feitan stares at you. And then he huffs, which might be as close to an “um” as you might ever get from him. 

But what little standoff there is between you folds easily. You back down first. Of course you do. Quite literally, you walk backwards, until you feel the firmness of your mattress behind your legs, and you sit down.

It’s best to sit, when Feitan wants something. You never know what it might be, after all.

“Did you…” You pull your knees up, prepared to be told to head into the basement at worst, or to make him something to eat, at best. “Did you need something?”

It’s his lack of response that clues you into something being strange first. Then it’s the fact that, as you dart your gaze towards his face, you can see a faint something about him–on his cheeks, maybe? They look a little flushed.

Maybe he’s sick. The thought of tending to a sick Feitan is not something you’d considered before. You’re not keen on considering it now, but what choice do you have?

“Are you sick?” 

“What?”

The word is bitten out but it lacks the usual harshness in his tone. Instead he sounds–taken aback, maybe. Embarrassed, even, and that’s a bit more stomach-churning than annoyance. What would he have to feel embarrassed about? 

“Sorry,” you reply, automatically, wanting to avoid being sent down to the basement again. “I just thought… because of your cheeks?”

His fingers do not fly to his cheeks. Instead, he slowly, deliberately, raises his hand to his cheek and brushes his knuckles over his skin. 

It makes him hum–thoughtful. Quiet. 

Completely unnerving. 

And when he turns around and shuts your bedroom door, your thoughts begin to feel rootless. It’s a strange gesture. What would he shut the door for, anyway? No one else would see you. Even if he had someone chained up in the basement, they weren’t likely to get away.

The thoughts get swallowed down when he stands in front of you, arms crossed.

“I need something.” He pauses. “From you.”

You can’t bear to meet his gaze, so you stare down at your feet, picking at the frayed lace on your socks. “From… me?”

“From me?” He repeats, a mocking lilt just detectable in his tone. 

Heat rises in your chest, and you stamp it down just as quickly. The days where you used to argue–and plead–and argue some more are gone. Mostly, anyway. 

“What,” you swallow, “could you need from me?”

He hesitates. You think for a moment that he’ll simply leave, forgetting the matter entirely. Then he pulls at his cowl, revealing his face–mouth set in a frown–before he begins to pull at his coat. He shrugs it off like a robe and it drops to the floor without ceremony. Underneath, he’s wearing a slim tank top and trousers. Both are suspiciously stained, despite the dark fabric.

Still, he just stares at you, until you can’t take the silence any longer.

“Um,” you say, an echo from earlier. 

This time, when he huffs, it’s less of an “um” and more of an implicit marker of your own stupidity. 

“You wanting books?”

Oh. 

That’s what this is about? The books. The books you wanted–needed, really, to get you through this newfound life. If you can call it that.

So you nod, slowly. Already not liking where it’s going, even though you’ve yet to find the destination.

Feitan’s lips quirk into something like a frown before he speaks. An uncertain little thing. 

“Take off your clothes, then.”

Ah.

It’s–a trade.

A book for–well. That. 

It’s not that you didn’t think it was coming, eventually. Perhaps you’ve always known that he’s going to have sex with you, one way or another. The only decision you have is in the little details. Will he pin your wrists down and take you screaming? Or will you submit and wind up on the bed of whatever free will you still possess?

You know which one ends with more pain, more tears. You know which one ends with tears, yes–but something you want, too. A book. Or two. Something to tide you over. 

So–so you swallow and look up at him as firmly as you can and nod. It’s going to happen, so it might as well happen on your terms. Or what you can pretend are your terms, at least.

“Fine.”

He almost seems surprised, but he bites it back quickly as you hastily begin to shrug your clothing off. A flimsy tank top and thin leggings that were beginning to rip at the seams, but you didn’t feel like asking for a sewing kit or a new pair. 

He stares down at your naked form and it’s only when you awkwardly pat the spot next to you on the mattress that he moves, almost jerking his body as he jerkily crawls down onto the bare mattress. It creaks underneath him, and you instinctively shift backwards, leaning your back against the pillow.

Let it just be over with then. Let him do what he wants–and you get your books, and that awful tension that’s been hovering since he took you can unravel. 

Only he doesn’t simply crawl over you and begin fucking hard, satiating whatever lust that’s been built up inside him. Instead, he scoots himself until he’s laying above you, yes, but leaning down and… what? Looking at you. Expecting something. He leans down, his face closer, and it hits you.

He wants to kiss.

He doesn’t want just sex then, you think. He wants… more? He wants–wants… you? Yes–maybe? He wants you, in some way that he doesn’t have you yet. Even though he has you, literally, where he wants you; makes you do whatever he wants, controls what you eat and what you wear and when you sleep. When you shower, when you speak, often enough.

And now he wants whatever kissing him will give. It’s a shitty world, when you can’t keep anything for yourself. You could refuse. Could press your lips tight and turn away, make it harder on him. 

Harder on yourself, too. 

You swallow, and he follows the motion in your throat as he finally leans in closer, his chapped lips brushing against your own. Equally chapped, to be fair; lip balm wasn’t exactly a top priority for either of you.

“Open your mouth,” he says, and it’s almost softly. Almost like it’s not a command and is instead a request. 

Well. If you’re going to do it, you might as well get something more. 

“I want–I want a trilogy,” you murmur. 

He stares at you, uncomprehending–until he gets it. You’re bartering. He snorts against your skin, but doesn’t disagree as he captures your parted mouth, shoving his tongue inside with little fanfare. 

If he got what he wanted from the kiss, you don’t know, because by the time he’s practically breathing down your throat, you feel his hands part your naked thighs. And when he pulls away and positions himself to see what he’s revealed, his expression turns into something you’ve only seen him sport in the basement during particularly fulfilling torture sessions.

Satisfaction.

It’s almost flattering–fuck, something has to be, your naked back against the mattress as Feitan finally pulls his trousers down and positions himself at your entrance without any fanfare. Or preparation. Not that you were expecting it. Maybe, to him, the kiss should have been enough.

The ceiling has a stain on it–that’s what you’re thinking, as he thrusts inside you. It hurts, there’s a startling sort of burning and pressure, and you don’t have any time to be eased into things as he lets out a long sigh and begins to fuck you.

Your body shifts against the mattress with each thrust, and you think–is this going to be it?--before you feel a startling, uneven jolt of pleasure between your legs. When you glance down, you can see Feitan’s hand between your legs; it’s his thumb, you think, rubbing your clit almost haphazardly.

It’s enough to dull the sting, at least. Enough to make you gasp in something other than discomfort. 

Maybe that gasp is why he leans down again, why his free hand grabs one of your wrists and pins it above your head. It’s to keep you still, you realize a moment later, as he begins to bite and lap against your neck. You’ll have hickeys, after.

It adds another layer of pleasure, something warmer, something that sends tingles down your stomach despite the discomfort of the situation. 

“Feitan–”

“Hush,” he says, and you do, and you’re almost grateful for his words. It’s easier not to say his name, to bite down your gasps and sounds. Especially when saying his name merely made him rut harder against you, faster. It’s almost too much, the friction between your body and the mattress, your heart rate speeding up, the feeling of his thrust between your legs. It’s almost dizzying, making it harder to keep your thoughts straight. 

Harder and faster, all because you said his name. Because it made him hornier–or because he wants to leave? The question lingers, caught between thrusts and the feeling of his mouth against his skin.

His thumb rubs harsher against your clit until you’re suddenly spasming, cumming as he’s still fucking you. He takes his hands away too quickly and it’s not an entirely satisfying orgasm but you’re in no position (literally) to complain about it. Instead you try to ride some lingering warmth between your legs as he reaches his own peak, abandoning your bruising shoulder and bruising your lips, instead, a kiss that’s part teeth and tongue.

He thrusts forward and goes still and makes an almost keening sound into your mouth as he finishes, and you feel the warmth spreading inside you. It’s not pleasant, but the feeling when he pulls out and some of it dribbles out is far less so.

Next time, you think, you’ll tell him to keep touching you when you come. So it feels better. Hell, next time, you’ll barter for something more than a book, too. 

You expect him to stay against you, maybe even kiss you again, in the afterglow. Instead, he simply stands up without fanfare and begins to redress himself. Pulls his pants back up–you hope to whatever god there is that he washes his clothes soon–and begins to pull on his top and coat.

“What genre?”

You don’t register the question at first. You’re too fucked out, too guilty, lost, confused, hazy, to understand the question. 

Maybe he sees all that, because before he throws his cowl back up, you see his smirk.

“For your books.”

Oh. Right.

“Fantasy,” you answer, without needing to think. 

Above you, that ceiling is still stained, and now your mattress has new stains. It was the first time Feitan fucked you, but it won’t be the last, and what sort of Pandora’s box did you open today, anyway? 

So yes, a fantasy trilogy is what you ask for, naked and bruising on your bed. 

You’ll need something you can escape into every chance you get.

[relleytrots]

Can we please have an OC Deepdive for dear dead and dreadful Penelope?

OC Deep Dive | Mother Superior Penelope Germaine Armitage-Stoneleigh

What common/uncommon fear do they have? I think Penny's afraid of rootlessness, routelessness - having no sense of where she's from and where she's going, it would be all too easy to simply collapse, into an endless train of atrocities. As long as she has a cause, she has a mission, and as long as she has a mission, she has a reason, and as long as she has a reason... she can hold onto hers.

Do they have any pet peeves? Thought-terminating cliches in general, but she reserves a seething hatred for what people of a certain age still call "image macros." Failure to use your words indicates lack of an argument. You have lost. (She's such a fucking Redditor, I swear to God.)

What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom? Nail polish. So much nail polish. It's about the only part of her beauty regimen she can do for herself and she's quite good at nail art. Also, hats. And she never grew out of her childhood habit of stuffing whatever books she was reading under the covers instead of putting them back anywhere.

What do they notice first in a person? What they look at to avoid looking at her. If they actually look at her, head on, they are worth considering.

On a scale of 1 to 10, how high is their pain tolerance? About a 6. She's not as tough as she claims she is, and in a straight up fight, she's something of a glass cannon. After the initial ambush/environmental hazard phase, the Penny boss fight doesn't actually take too long.

Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure? (or freeze and fawn) Fawn, and she hates it about herself. Freeze if she's merely discombobulated.

What animal represents them best? Monitor lizard. I saw a video of one acting like an oversized housecat that didn't blink and yep, that's her.

How would a stranger likely describe them? "So I had this bird in the cab the other week, right, and she just sat there for the whole ride - just stared. Didn't say a word. Didn't blink. Funny thing is, I don't remember her getting in... or what she looked like. Just those eyes. And she paid cash. Wouldn't even touch me card reader."

Do they have any hobbies? What a quaint notion. Not... really. Everything Penny does is technically part of her Sabbat hustle. Being a troll on vampblr.sck is fun, though. I imagine she still reads, and she can do a cryptic crossword in about half the time it takes anyone else, but that's more about keeping her brain active... it's like exercise. I'm now struck by the awful image of her working out, just to freak out the gym rats, and I can't get that out of my head...

[mahayanapilgrim]

When we gain confidence in the view of the intrinsic nature of mind without distraction or confusion, the arising of a deluded thought is like a thief entering an empty house.

The house has nothing to lose, and the thief has nothing to gain. Whether the thief comes into the house or not, there is neither benefit nor harm. In the same way, thoughts will arise like reflections; but the moment they occur, the view of the intrinsic nature is right there.

Since the view of the intrinsic nature is stronger than the thought, the thought will automatically be groundless and rootless. When that happens, there is also no trace left behind. If we can maintain the continuity of that state in which no trace is left, that is what is known as liberation.

It is like a drawing mode on the surface of water: there is no need to find something to erase it. Before the end of the drawing has been completed, the beginning has already disappeared.

Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche - Oral Instructions on Three Words That Strike The Vital Point' - on Action

[dailyanarchistposts]

Asia, Africa, India and Latin America

While we have been focusing on North America, the park model was actually exported throughout the world, forcing millions of tribal peoples out of their habitats/territories. The practice continues to this day in Asia, Africa and India, for example, where non-profit foundations and United Nations sponsored organizations are eagerly trying to protect what little land is left that hasn’t been destroyed by industrial modes of living.

Unfortunately, be it the Twa peoples expulsion from Congo’s Kahuzi-Biega National Park, the Maasai from the Amboseli National Park in Kenya or tribal people in southern India forced out of the Indira Gandhi National Park as part of an “eco-development” scheme funded by the Global Environment Facility, parks and conservation lands remain one more force which dispossesses tribal peoples. In Africa alone, one million square kilometers of land has been expropriated for conservation over the past one hundred years. Estimates in India range around three-quarters of a million people pushed off their traditional lands for conservation, in Africa the number is likely in the millions. Unfortunately, and ironically, land that has long been occupied and protected by indigenous peoples continues to be deemed “wild” and therefore suitable for “conservation” primarily by having them declared parks, thus making them out of bounds for the indigenous peoples who maintained them in the first place.

What happens to the people who once lived rich, meaningful lives within these habitats? They become like you and I. Dispossession leads to rootlessness, discouragement, depression, inability to be self-reliant, bad nutrition, broken communities, severed kinship ties, and anger, too often turned inward or directed to the nearest person.

I think we need to realize that dedication to creating parkland and conservation areas does not necessarily coincide with helping regenerate ways of living harmoniously with a habitat. More often than not it promotes a misanthropic outlook that posits intact, healthy land areas being by definition “human-free’’, rather than capitalism-free. We tend to ignore the fact that indigenous peoples seeking to maintain or renew their traditional life ways need to have access tothese areas, especially if the parkland in question was actually part of their traditional territory.

Even liberal organizations like UNESCO have begun to realize that there has been a negative social impact associated with many protected areas. In some places in Asia, Africa and Latin America, provisions have been made for local control so that traditional lifestyles might continue. But these tend to be limited “buffer zones”, where the original inhabitants can control “development projects”. These attempts have not succeeded.

Apparently coalitions of indigenous peoples have had some success in forcing international bodies to recognize their inherent right to manage their traditional territories. “In the 1990s, the World Wildlife Fund for Nature (WWF), the World Conservation Congress and the World Commission on Protected Areas all adopted new policies and resolutions which strongly endorse indigenous peoples’ rights and promote the co-management of protected areas, based on negotiated agreements.[8]” However, these organizations aren’t arguing for free access to one’s habitat, but to “negotiated agreements” with outsiders and centralized authority, and land bases integrated into the scheme of state regulations and subject to the pressures of politics and the market.

Regardless of some recognition, many parks and conservation areas, especially in impoverished countries, remain part of the greater theft of traditional homelands by arrogant, powerful outsiders who impose their views of what constitutes healthy habitats. It isn’t parks and conservation areas that will help stem the tide of destruction and plunder, but recognition that new ways of living are required. And these new ways can be informed by the old ways ofland based people.

[abandoned-as-mustard]

Be me, suddenly activate Idiot Mode when she tips the entire pot on its side to empty the water tray without moving the rocks under it, and then the near-rootless plant just falls out 😊😊

[govindhtech]

Enable System Integrity Protection mac Instances in AWS

AWS Programmatically Manages EC2 Mac Instances' macOS System Integrity Protection

A key improvement from Amazon Web Services allows developers utilising Amazon EC2 Mac instances to programmatically manage Apple's System Integrity Protection (SIP). This new feature eliminates physical access and recovery mode reboots to modify SIP status, simplifying development and testing.

Allow mac system integrity protection

In 2015, Apple added rootless System Integrity Protection to OS X El Capitan 10.11. SIP is enabled by default on macOS to reduce root user account protection against dangerous apps. It secures the system by restricting access to system-owned files and directories, preventing unauthorised software from choosing a starting disc, and blocking changes to protected files and folders.

SIP quickly solved the security issue of unconstrained root access, which might allow malware to take control of a device with a single password or weakness. Apple added SIP to macOS to improve security, especially since many users use administrator accounts with weak or no passwords.

SIP provides effective malware protection for daily use, but developers may need to temporarily disable it for development and testing. Disabling SIP allows installing and testing new device driver or system extension code. SIP may also block system configurations needed by some apps.

When SIP is temporarily disabled, macOS development program optimisation permissions are given. Warning: This temporarily disables the vault door for approved maintenance, not permanently leaving it open. Disabling Spotlight indexing, driver development, and outdated software compatibility require offsetting SIP. To conserve CPU and disc I/O, Spotlight can be turned off when indexing is not needed. Spotlight is beneficial on desktops but not on servers for fast item searching.

macOS shut down system integrity

Before, SIP could only be disabled by entering the Mac. Restarting in recovery mode, disabling SIP with csrutil, then restarting were the steps. SIP management integration with the EC2 API and Amazon EC2 control plane was problematic due to physical access and recovery mode booting. Before this revelation, developers used EC2 Mac instances with default SIP settings.

This is fixed by the new AWS API. Developers can now dynamically enable and disable SIP on Amazon EC2 Mac instances. The process begins with CreateMacSystemIntegrityProtectionModificationTask, a new EC2 API. This asynchronous API request changes the instance's SIP status. Developers can track task progress with another new EC2 API, DescribeMacModificationTasks. These tasks only require the target EC2 Mac instance ID.

Preconditions must be met before using the new API on contemporary machines and Apple silicon-based EC2 Mac instances. Developers must login to the instance, specify the password, and enable a secure token for the ec2-user user account on macOS to setup it. Set the password with sudo /usr/bin/dscl. -passwd /Users/ec2-user then enable the secure token with sysadminctl -new.Password [password] and -oldPassword [password] must be run in the instance terminal. If the GUI has never been used, a Keychain error may appear, but the command activates the secure token. To verify, run sysadminctl -secureTokenStatus ec2-user.

If the prerequisites are met (on applicable instances) and the instance ID is known, the AWS CLI or other supported methods can toggle the SIP status. The create-mac-system-integrity-protection-modification-task command specifies the instance ID, preferred SIP state (such as “disabled”), root volume username (ec2-user), and credentials file password.

The API returns the modification task's initial status (typically “pending”) and task ID after completion. By showing statuses like “in-progress” and SIP configuration details, the describe-mac-modification-tasks command can be used to track task progress.

The API initiated a reboot process that makes the instance inaccessible. A whole surgery can take 60–90 minutes. After the operation is complete and the instance status is back in the AWS console, developers can access to the computer via SSH or EC2 Instance access. Run csrutil –status to verify the instance's new SIP status.

SIP on Amazon EC2 Mac instances requires careful thought.

The AWS Management Console, CLI, API, and SDKs can disable SIP.

Apple silicon has volume-based SIP. If the root volume changes, SIP must be disabled again. Intel instance SIP status is unaffected by root volume replacement because the configuration is Mac host-based.

Stop and restart the instance to enable and disable SIP. Instance SIP status is unaffected by reboot.

SIP status cannot be transferred between EBS volumes. If you construct an Amazon Machine Image (AMI) from an instance with SIP enabled or restore an instance from an EBS snapshot, SIP will be switched off again.

Availability

These new APIs are available in all AWS regions with Amazon EC2 Mac instances. AWS says these new SIP setup options are free.

This new functionality streamlines workflows that previously needed manual intervention and significant downtime, giving EC2 Mac clients additional build and development flexibility and control.

[fordcrownvictoria]

Kát’a Kabanová: A Mirror of Inner Turmoil through Sound, Memory, and Love

I. Musical Architecture as Psychological Mirror

Leoš Janáček’s Kát’a Kabanová (1921) is a masterclass in economical expressivity, and its intricate musical structure reflects not only dramatic pacing but the deepest recesses of the characters’ psyches. Written during Janáček’s late creative period, the opera exemplifies his mature style—driven by a uniquely fragmented motivic language and a heightened sensitivity to the rhythm and cadence of natural speech, known as nápěvky mluvy.

The score is not constructed with traditional symphonic development or classical aria-recitative divisions. Instead, Janáček employs cellular motivic construction, using short rhythmic and intervallic motifs that are constantly varied and transformed to mirror the evolving mental states of his characters. These motifs are not merely descriptive—they are psychological fingerprints, carrying emotional memory and foreboding.

For example, Kát’a’s music is often characterized by ascending fourths and modal shifts between A minor and its relative modes, reflecting a duality of aspiration and instability. In her soliloquy in Act I, where she reminisces about childhood dreams of flying, Janáček uses floating high strings and soft woodwinds in parallel thirds and sixths. These harmonies are suspended and fleeting, evoking the lightness of childhood but immediately destabilized by unexpected metrical shifts—such as moving from 3/4 to 5/8—and chromatic descent that mimics emotional collapse.

The use of ostinato rhythms and layered textures is particularly important in creating psychological claustrophobia. In Act II, during the confrontation between Kát’a and Kabanicha, the strings play repeated, almost mechanical figures in low registers while sharp woodwind interjections interrupt—an aural metaphor for emotional suppression and authoritarian dominance. The tension is increased through Janáček’s manipulation of timbre: he often assigns emotionally loaded material to the English horn, viola, or muted trumpet, lending a grainy, introspective quality to moments of inner reflection.

Tonal ambiguity plays a structural role across the opera. While sections may gesture toward tonality (e.g., the warm C major of Kát’a’s childhood memory), they rarely resolve. Instead, Janáček frequently ends scenes or emotional peaks on open fifths, diminished chords, or rootless dissonances. These unresolved cadences serve to freeze time—representing psychological suspension, moments when memory overtakes narrative, or when language fails the character.

Unlike Wagner’s extensive use of leitmotifs, Janáček’s use of thematic recall is less about identification and more about emotional coloration. A motif associated with childhood, for instance, may reappear not to remind us of the past, but to color the present with yearning or loss. The orchestra is a character in itself, often voicing what the singers cannot articulate—through fractured phrasing, sudden silences, or explosive climaxes that do not coincide with sung peaks.

In the opera’s final scenes, particularly during Kát’a’s confession and suicide, Janáček strips the texture to a bare minimum. Her vocal line becomes almost parlando, broken by sob-like rests. The orchestration here uses hollow intervals—fourths, open fifths, and double-stopped strings—to suggest a regression to a simpler emotional world, before language and reason took hold. It is a return to infancy, to vulnerability, and ultimately, to silence.

II. A Romantic Tragedy of Fragility and Longing

Kát’a Kabanová is not just a tale of moral fall or infidelity—it is a study in spiritual starvation. Kát’a lives in a household ruled by fear, dogma, and emotional coldness. Her husband Tichon is absent even when present; her mother-in-law Kabanicha is a model of social tyranny. Kát’a’s desire for emotional and romantic connection with Boris is not simply an affair—it is her first and only act of self-assertion.

What renders the romance so tragic is its tentative, almost preordained failure. Kát’a and Boris do not love with confidence or passion but with hesitation, shame, and longing. Their brief intimacy is drowned in guilt from the start. In contrast to traditional operatic lovers, they do not dream of escape but merely of a moment’s tenderness.

This gives the opera a unique romantic signature: the love is not grandiose, but fragile—an ember hidden in ash. Janáček’s score reflects this not through sweeping melodies but through trembling textures and unstable harmonies. Love here is a tremor in the voice, a single high note held a breath too long.

Kát’a’s relationship with nature, especially the Volga river, adds another layer of romantic symbolism. Where society confines her, nature seems to beckon. Yet even the natural world is no refuge—it is merely the stage for her final act of surrender. Her suicide, though tragic, is not sensational. It is quiet, almost gentle—a release rather than a protest. She longs to be free, not only from judgment but from her own sense of failure. In the end, love becomes a memory—a final vision before the waters close above her.

III. Legacy in the 21st Century: A Voice for the Silenced

In our current era, Kát’a Kabanová holds a mirror to ongoing struggles with societal expectations, mental health, and emotional repression. The opera’s psychological realism—its refusal to romanticize suffering—makes it strikingly modern. Kát’a is a precursor to contemporary operatic heroines who defy black-and-white moral judgment. She is not simply a victim or a transgressor; she is a full person, struggling within the limits of her world.

Janáček’s compositional language, once considered idiosyncratic or provincial, has come to be celebrated for its prescience. His musical techniques—speech-based rhythm, organic motivic development, use of tonal ambiguity—foreshadow many of the expressive tools used by later 20th-century composers. Indeed, Kát’a Kabanová anticipates the minimalist intensity of Philip Glass and the psychological interiority of Thomas Adès, albeit in a Slavic idiom.

Recent productions have leaned into these themes, often casting Kát’a not as a tragic heroine in the Romantic mold, but as a trauma survivor, a woman whose inner life has been denied expression. Directors have staged the opera in psychiatric institutions, gray box sets, or surreal dreamscapes, emphasizing Kát’a’s isolation. These interpretations underline the opera’s resonance with modern understandings of psychological breakdown and the need for emotional truth.

In educational and feminist discourse, the opera is increasingly viewed as a landmark work of emotional realism, challenging the idea that operatic drama must rely on external conflict. Here, the enemy is within—the fear of oneself, and the crushing expectations of conformity.

As opera houses seek to reimagine the canon in a more inclusive and emotionally intelligent direction, Kát’a Kabanová stands ready not as a dusty museum piece, but as a timeless human document. Its power lies not in spectacle, but in its quiet truth: that the soul, when silenced, sings its most poignant song in fragments and dreams.

[periodicresetofcivilizations]

POP-MUSIC TRANNIES

"THEY are all Trannies! Intersex is a Masonic code, and the REBIS is something THEY aspire to. They try to create it with their DirTEA alchemy. But it is not a reality. Anyone who is anyone, as THEY say, is a Trans. THEY have undergone a T-Forming surgery.

Dual-Sex does not exist. Only lying fucking Shills will tell you it does.

THEY, the DirTEA MASONs; use THEIR SHIELDs against the Naturals."

Me:

The guy calls itself "The Natural".

On the name "The Natural"

This is ironic, given that modernity is precisely defined by the delusion that the body is inherently perfect—rejecting the ancient imperative of self-mastery and transformation. Meanwhile, Freemasonry and liberal movements (which Freemasonry has long advanced) have propagated this very ideology. Thus, the choice of the name "The Natural" is deeply symbolic of modernity's inversion of truth.

Metaphysical part:

The Sentiment of Nature

The erosion of natural ties in modern civilization fosters a rootless existence. Technological progress dissolves the enclosed, organic environments of traditional life, thrusting man into a vast, interconnected world. This shift engenders a material cosmopolitanism—not an ideological or humanitarian one—where man becomes a "world citizen," detached from provincialism.

Traditional spiritual disciplines offer insight into this condition. The hermit’s solitude and the wanderer’s detachment exemplify transcendence over earthly transience. Similarly, the medieval "knight errant" and the "noble traveler" embody a superior detachment from fixed abodes. Modern technological society, despite its mechanized chaos, can evoke a comparable sense of isolation—an inner detachment that mirrors the ascetic’s withdrawal.

The annihilation of distance through technology fosters a transcendent stance: one is everywhere yet at home nowhere. This condition, though often banalized by tourism and utilitarianism, can be transformed into a higher mode of existence if met with the proper inner discipline.

Speed, a defining feature of modernity, typically serves as a vulgar intoxicant. Yet, when mastered, it demands lucidity and inner stillness, paralleling the controlled ecstasy of integrated Dionysism.

Modern urban life severs natural bonds, reducing man to a "nomad of the asphalt." However, reactions advocating a "return to nature" often degenerate into primitivism, reinforcing the "animal ideal"—a fixation on biological well-being, physical vigor, and base satisfactions. This regression aligns with Darwinism’s leveling effects, eroding the sense of man’s transcendent distinction.

True detachment transcends the false dichotomy between city and nature. The superior man remains aloof in both, rejecting sentimental surrender to landscapes or urban sprawl. Nature, for him, encompasses both wilderness and industrial grandeur—dams, turbines, skyscrapers—as domains of impersonal objectivity.

The bourgeois sentimentalization of nature—idyllic, picturesque, or poetic—gives way to plebeian vulgarization: mass tourism, nudism, and mechanized assaults on mountains. These mark the final disintegration of our epoch.

Authentic engagement with nature requires objectivity, distance, and a rejection of anthropocentric projections. Nietzsche’s "superiority of the inorganic" and the "new objectivity" (Neue Sachlichkeit) emphasize nature’s cold, elemental grandeur—deserts, glaciers, steppes—as antidotes to sentimentalism. For the differentiated man, nature is not a refuge but a school of transcendence, where primordial forces reinforce inner sovereignty.

This perspective aligns with traditional wisdom, particularly Zen, which strips reality of subjective distortions. The "great revelation" lies not in seeking the extraordinary but in perceiving the real—unfiltered by personal bias. In this state, immanence and transcendence merge, and the ordinary (a cedar, falling rain) becomes a vessel of absolute meaning.

The path of inner liberation does not flee modernity but transforms its destructive forces into instruments of ascension. The superior man navigates the modern wasteland with the same detachment as the hermit or knight errant, turning dissolution into transcendence.

[ngtskynebula]

Patriarchy incessantly subjects these flows of desire to a system of organization, a logic that subverts the desiring flows against themselves. This channeling and organization of sex and amorous relations I will refer to as the logic of the couple — that which funnels, simplifies, and reduces amorous desire to the needs of patriarchy within the capitalist mode of production. This logic assumes that women have but a single site for the fulfillment of their social and sexual desires, that being a romantic relationship with a man. The couple functions as the threshold, the admission fee, the golden key that allows a woman to participate in the social world. The couple promises that, upon entering its grasp, one will no longer suffer from alienation, from isolation, from boredom, from rootlessness. The couple grants a woman personhood and social visibility. She obtains a title, a temporality, a space through the couple. Marriage enshrines this logic and its perpetuation of the specific form assumed by patriarchy under capitalism.

[...]

Un-coupled women, those loose dogs, remain on the periphery, always at a distance from the space where debates, projects, and events are played out. The couple acts as a social form that requires women, in order to participate in whatever practice or domain they desire, to attach themselves to men via the couple mechanism. The couple-form often constitutes the single device that protects a woman from the misogyny of a group of men.

[...]

Why does a woman sell out for some wank? She gives herself over to the couple in the hope of mitigating her alienation and increasing her sense of ‘security,’ in the same way that a citizen gives herself over to a repressive state that she trusts to keep her secure. While perhaps not visible at the outset, the couple will further alienate and isolate her.

Against the couple-form.

[analyticsias-blog]

Segregated UPSC Previous Question Paper 

Scope and Sociology Relationship with Other Social Science 

Scope and Sociology Relationship with Other Social Science 

From the viewpoint of growing importance of multidisciplinary, how do you 

Scope and Sociology Relationship with Other Social Science .

From the viewpoint of growing importance of multidisciplinary, how do you relate sociology to other social sciences 2021,UPSC

Discuss the changing equation of discipline of Sociology with other Social Sciences. 2017, UPSC

Compare and contrast Sociology with Anthropology 2013,UPSC

“Sociology without History is rootless and History without Sociology is fruitless.” Elaborate. 2010, UPSC

Sociology and Common sense 

How is Sociology related to common Sense. 2021, UPSC

The focal point of sociology rests on interaction. How do you distinguish it from common sense? 2018,UPSC

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Analytics IAS is not just a coaching platform; it’s a complete solution for Sociology aspirants. From foundational concepts to advanced topics, it ensures a seamless learning experience that equips students to tackle even the most challenging questions with confidence.

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[qcs01]

Podman for Beginners: Understanding Rootless Containers

In the fast-evolving world of containerization, Podman has emerged as a powerful, user-friendly, and secure alternative to Docker. One of its standout features is the support for rootless containers, which allows users to run containers without requiring elevated privileges. If you're new to Podman and curious about rootless containers, this guide is for you.

What is Podman?

Podman (Pod Manager) is an open-source container engine that enables users to create, manage, and run containers and pods. Unlike Docker, Podman operates without a central daemon, which enhances its security and flexibility.

What Are Rootless Containers?

Rootless containers allow users to run containers as non-root users. This significantly reduces security risks, as it minimizes the impact of potential vulnerabilities within containers. With rootless containers, even if a container is compromised, the damage is limited to the privileges of the user running it.

Benefits of Rootless Containers

Enhanced Security Rootless containers reduce the risk of privilege escalation, making them an ideal choice for running containers in development and production environments.

User-Specific Containers Each user can manage their container ecosystem independently, avoiding conflicts and ensuring isolation.

No Root Privileges Required Rootless containers eliminate the need for administrative access, making them safer for shared environments and CI/CD pipelines.

How to Get Started with Podman Rootless Containers

Step 1: Install Podman

Ensure you have Podman installed on your system. For most Linux distributions, you can install Podman using the package manager:

sudo apt install podman # For Debian-based systems sudo dnf install podman # For Fedora-based systems

Step 2: Verify Installation

Run the following command to check if Podman is installed correctly:

podman --version

Step 3: Create and Run a Rootless Container

Switch to a non-root user and run the following commands:

Pull an image:podman pull alpine

Run a container:podman run --rm -it alpine sh

This runs an Alpine Linux container in a rootless mode.

Step 4: Manage Containers

You can list running containers using:

podman ps

And stop a container using:

podman stop <container_id>

Limitations of Rootless Containers

While rootless containers are highly secure, there are some limitations:

Networking: Networking features may be restricted due to the lack of root privileges.

Performance: Certain operations may have slight performance overheads.

Compatibility: Not all container images or workloads are fully compatible with rootless containers.

When to Use Rootless Containers

Rootless containers are ideal for:

Development environments where security and isolation are essential.

CI/CD pipelines that don’t require root access.

Scenarios where multi-user isolation is necessary.

Conclusion

Podman’s rootless containers offer a seamless and secure way to work with containers, especially for users who value security and flexibility. By enabling rootless operations, Podman empowers developers to build and manage containers without compromising system integrity.

Ready to embrace rootless containers? Install Podman today and experience the future of containerization! 

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[mahayanapilgrim]

"When we gain confidence in the view of the intrinsic nature without distraction or confusion, the arising of a deluded thought is like a thief entering an empty house. The house has nothing to lose, and the thief has nothing to gain. Whether the thief comes into the house or not, there is neither benefit nor harm. In the same way, thoughts will arise like reflections; but the moment they occur, the view of the intrinsic nature is right there.

Since the view of the intrinsic nature is stronger than the thought, the thought will automatically be groundless and rootless. When that happens, there is also no trace left behind. If we can maintain the continuity of that state in which no trace is left, that is what is known as liberation. It is like a drawing mode on the surface of water: there is no need to find something to erase it. Before the end of the drawing has been completed, the beginning has already disappeared."

Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche - Oral Instructions on 'Three Words That Strike The Vital Point' - on Action - Collected Works, Vol Ill pg 652 - Shambhala

[gulyas069]

i wanted to say something more in-depth about this but at least a quick note instead: this is a very good example of the logic of antisemitism actually. modern antisemitism can't really be separated from the concept of nation states, the prerequisite for an antisemitism that sees jewish people as "foreign" in a more or less homogeneous population is the nation state. inversely, this means that the logic of antisemitism can allow for jewish people if they have a nation state of their own. the result is as expressed in the screenshot: the israeli national is a real human, because he is tied to land and nation, the epitome of the warrior-farmer right-wing ideal, while the diaspora jew can still be the victim of classic european antisemitism, ie remains a "rootless cosmopolite".

the minority aspect of antisemitism does in fact see some attention in antisemitism studies, but as far as i can tell at least, it's too often brushed aside. this is necessary, because "israel-related antisemitism" is at odds with this european nation state mode of antisemitism. the reality is that most right-wing movements in europe accept jewish people if they are identified with a nation state of their own, but do not accept jewish people that live as minorities.

lmao

[thebloker]

for the Skyjacks snippets: 28 and Travis?

28. Blasphemous Rumours - Depeche Mode

oh this song for travis and tfq is fucking delicious thank you !!

A smirk crosses Travis’ face as The Forest Queen moves with slow and verdant grace to claim his okus. His mortality shimmers and shifts in the ligneous growth of her palm, disappearing from view in a slow-moving swathe of vines that snakes its way down the bark of her limbs. Travis’ breath catches in his chest when they take root, sees columbine bloom where he is absorbed, feels roots wrapping around his individual ribs. 

“Your Majesty,” he says breathlessly, his charismatic wink undermined by a hand unconsciously rubbing his chest. “The rumors they’ll start about us.”

The Forest Queen turns her moon-glow gaze on him. Her features shift slowly, a terrifyingly tender sharp-toothed smile growing over her face. Her unrefined facial features bloom in unusual reddish-tinged moss, an eerie imitation blush that spreads down her long neck, down her arm as it leisurely reaches out to Travis. White columbine blooms on her extended fingertips, and it falls artfully onto the lapel of Travis’ jacket. “Sweet William, I could hardly let anyone else at this table claim you.” Her voice is the sound of wind through trees, the soft susurration of leaves and musical groan of limbs gently bowed.

Travis casts his eyes down to see the star-white flower take root in his collar, soft new grown stems and leaves twining around the back of his neck and settling gently in his hair. It’s a tender, motherly caress. The power of the being responsible for it makes the hair of Travis’ nape stand on end in equal parts thrill and fear. He turns his nose into the bloom and smiles appreciatively at the honey-sweet smell. He meets the beryl smolder of The Forest Queen’s unblinking eyes, his voice low and respectful. “It’s a favor I won’t forget.”

The Queen’s thorny-toothed smile grows wider, too wide to resemble human, splitting her features as she replies. “I know you won’t.”

—

Travis is curled in the nest of The Forest Queen’s hands, his lungs too small for the amount of water inside of them. He’s been there all night, drowning in her grasp without drowning at all, tied to her by the roots that encase his ribs. He feels them squeeze, gentle but firm, and retches up water that splashes and glistens against her bark. 

“I’m sorry, my love,” she whispers, the willow leaves of her hair shielding him from the world as he weeps into the moss of her palms. “I know you cared for her. I could not let the River claim you as well.”

As Travis mourns the home that could have been, caught fast in the hold of the home he’d gambled for, he thinks of the fear that brought him to The Forest Queen’s domain. The fear of being a rootless wanderer as long as he lived, the fear of living forever but never having a place he belonged.

He knows he’s where he belongs now, in the tender care of her silver-birch grove. 

Travis would give anything to be unmoored again. Give anything to be free to pursue the end he wanted, his bones entwined with Margaret’s on the riverbed.

He knows that She knows. The Queen has always known him better than he’s known himself. But she loves him, and couldn’t bear to see him die. He knows the feeling; if he had her power, he would have done the same for his own love.

The tears fall in sparkling splashes down his cheeks as he presses his face into the soothing soft bed of moss. Sap drips down her trunk in slow mimicry as the Queen weeps with him. Travis closes his eyes. He buries his face in his own hands as he tries to seek comfort in himself, the only person he knows will always be there.