nixtla: NEW Data - star count:2410.0
2025.01.21 01:20 Peerism1 nixtla: NEW Data - star count:2410.0
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2025.01.21 01:20 LasjaLynx Sulfur BO
I have a strong sulfugunpowder body odor and I can’t pinpoint where it’s coming from😭😭😭 Anyone experience anything like this before? My primary care doctor so booked I can’t see them until March. The smell doesn’t appear to come from my arms nor my torso. I’m just baffled. Are there any supplements to help with this?
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2025.01.21 01:20 immyssas lovesong
has bea ever sung lovesong live?? if so does anyone have a vid of it?! I've looked across the entire internet it feels like 💔
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2025.01.21 01:20 Peerism1 awesome-systematic-trading: NEW Extended Research - star count:2215.0
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2025.01.21 01:20 Michael-Karageorge Best 1911?
 | I’m looking for a 1911 that’s more similar to the a1 version with the gunmetal grey and everything. Saw this and thought it looked pretty good and it even has the proper trademarks (big plus) and is metal (a very big plus). submitted by Michael-Karageorge to airsoft [link] [comments] |
2025.01.21 01:20 Peerism1 imperial_hft: NEW Extended Research - star count:777.0
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2025.01.21 01:20 Peerism1 InStock: NEW Data - star count:6696.0
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2025.01.21 01:20 Hatman61771 Security guards from greenad70 but more (real)
 | submitted by Hatman61771 to FundamentalPaperEdu [link] [comments] |
2025.01.21 01:20 Rafiq_Hasanov DeFi趋势：究竟什么是链？智【V:37378〇8〇5】老师带单群APP下载 http://bex.ink能链又是什么？ 大陆 库币
DeFi趋势：究竟什么是链？智【V:37378〇8〇5】老师带单群APP下载 http://bex.ink能链又是什么？ 大陆 库币
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2025.01.21 01:20 Peerism1 fibo: NEW Data - star count:345.0
 | submitted by Peerism1 to algoprojects [link] [comments] |
2025.01.21 01:20 Peerism1 gs-quant: NEW Derivatives and Hedging - star count:8088.0
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2025.01.21 01:20 akhbarlyom فندق فوليبيليس فاس للحجز على الأنترنيت بثمن 450 درهم
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2025.01.21 01:20 Rafiq_Hasanov OKEX 歐易 100元怎麼玩合約【薇信37378o8o5】高返利APP下载 http://bex.ink 香港
OKEX 歐易 100元怎麼玩合約【薇信37378o8o5】高返利APP下载 http://bex.ink 香港
submitted by Rafiq_Hasanov to FsPosterSubreddit [link] [comments]
2025.01.21 01:20 Peerism1 Riskfolio-Lib: NEW Portfolio Selection and Optimisation - star count:3142.0
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2025.01.21 01:20 mt1336 [HR] The Dance: 1/3
Jeremy slumped into his office chair, glaring at the unopened email that had loomed in his inbox for a week.God dammit he just can’t sit still and focus. He’s been dying to get out of this job for years and anxiously awaiting news on the potential lateral transfer to Epogee- his current employer’s biggest competitor. Well, “biggest competitor” might be a bit generous. Where Jeremy worked was basically a rundown, tin-can by comparison. Well maybe it was a shoebox, with that awesome new shoe smell. That’s a big maybe too, it wouldn’t be considered on the level of a shoebox until after the renovations are complete and that wasn’t until June.
Epogee had a real writing, marketing, and videography department. They were fully staffed and had three RED cameras. And the cameras weren’t rentals either. Their department also had real contracts. Jeremy’s shop only did ghost-writing for independent marketing companies that supposedly had an edge. These small, but nimble shops, had grit and could often swoon themselves into a contract co-producing ad campaigns for fortune 100 companies. Those companies ate that shit up too. It helped their beleaguered, aging internal marketing staff maintain a fresh image, their pulse on this month’s zeitgeist, and it was at a fraction of the cost.
It wasn’t that Jeremy was a genius. In fact, by most academic measures, he barely scraped by. He also wasn't a dullard. Jeremy could spin a story like nobody’s business, he was a Harlem Globetrotter of story spinners. Probably not going to go pro, but he was super fun to watch. Unfortunately, the SAT college entrance exam doesn’t offer too many points for story telling- especially if you can’t finish the fucking thing. In any case, these are the facts, and this is the reason Jeremy had to attend community college. Jeremy’s story doesn’t end there, however. Jeremy was only at community college for 1 year before transferring to his state’s flagship university. By some miracle, he made it into Iowa’s storied writing program. Even now, a surge of pride lit up his chest when he remembered that acceptance letter. And he did, he got into mother fucking Iowa. It was really the first time he’d done anything. It felt good and people in his life were genuinely proud of him. Maybe they always had been, for other things, things that maybe didn’t deserve praise or for someone to be proud of you. But this was the first time he felt it, deep down. Jeremy couldn’t sell himself though, he was an average looking Iowan, his friends average people, except for a few rockstars he met in the study halls at Iowa he was lucky enough to maintain contact with. So he never really learned how to employ the suave language he’d give to his characters in his real life. He was just too socially anxious. He’d kept the same style of clothing: 1-2 year old T-shirt, maybe a flannel, and chinos. His idea of flair was a colorful mismatched sock and a leather boot. This didn’t make much of an impression in the dating scene and it didn’t do much to bolster his ego. His hair was about the same too. Just shaggy enough to cover the tips of his ears. He was saved by his light brown hair's natural texture that most people had to anguish over in the morning to give it that “I don’t care” look. Jeremy didn’t recognize this or spend much time thinking about himself. He rarely looked in a mirror. He was more of an orb of awareness, floating through life, observing, cataloging, and generally hoping to remain unseen.
Jeremy looked over his drafted messages, looked up the score for the last Corn Husker game, then made it back to his inbox and stared at the unopened C&J PharmaLyf message. C&J PharmaLyf has been getting killed, I mean, figuratively in the markets and literally, like murdered. A C&J PharmaLyf executive was just gunned down, literally last week, in the broad daylight, on a busy street in downtown Atlanta. There had been a lot of speculation, but no definitive report, of the now deceased suspect's motivations. Word across the internet forums was that the assassin was fueled off the heels of a bombshell report on a completely different company, ARDU Pharma. ARDU had hidden some, well a shitload of, phase 3 trial data on pretty nasty side effects of a new drug they released on the market about 2 years ago. Actually, it was a metric fuck-ton of results that they scooted under an apparently exceedingly transparent rug. Jeremy had actually done some ghost writing for this drugs ad campaign. This gig was on behalf of GrackleTeeth Media which were the co-producers on the collaboration with ARDU Pharma.
Now the sun had shown what was done in the dark, and it blasted, with all its blinding white light, onto a graph. On this graph was an unequivocal, unambiguous spike demonstrating a massive increase, based on the 2 year post-market data, of amyloid cardiomyopathy. It was big, some biostatisticians argued over the exact number, but it was around 8-10% of folks taking the drug that ended up with this disease which had no cure- zilch. NEW MEDIA AMERICA ran stories all day and all night blaring that the numbers were “Fake News”, citing the researchers had almost no confidence in the results.
They were of course obfuscating the obvious truth and referencing the range within the 95% confidence interval as evidence of a profound uncertainty. The numbers were anything but uncertain.
That’s on par for NEW MEDIA AMERICA though. NEW MEDIA AMERICA only really liked whole numbers, especially if they were green or red, and even more so if they could put the red ones on things we shouldn’t like and green on the things we should.
To really drive the conspiracy nuts mad, ARDU Pharma had a drug promised to actually reverse amyloid cardiomyopathy in Phase 2 trials. It was looking very promising 4 years ago! However, it shit the bed right before the report that blew this whole thing up came out. The case snaked through the courts. At the not so subtle behest of the McCommander-in-Chief, and with the help of a back channel via the front running VP candidate from the “opposing” party, it was completely dismissed by the US Supreme court after citing some deadwood from a literal witch trial in Pre-Colonial America. The words were literally written on skin and with quill. It was an obscured footnote, yet it had somehow slithered into the state’s legal statutes during a re-codification in the 1700s and, unbelievably, had never been removed. Even NEW MEDIA AMERICA ran headlines about the age of the thing despite treating it like the Shroud of Turin. To tie this whole shit present up with a stinking shit bowtie, an anonymous whistleblower, suspected of being a new supreme court justice clerk, leaked, “citing archaic witch-trial doctrine was a deliberate move to avoid standard scrutiny under modern consumer-safety laws. If nobody knew how to refute ‘handwritten colonial spells’ in a contemporary court, the case would dissolve in procedural confusion.”
So, ARDU Pharma had fallen on hard times, but thankfully the hard cock of the US Pharma-Military-Political-Church Complex was there to lift them up. This didn’t stop hordes of “Activist” and “DEI” employees from leaving, including a gaggle from the marketing department per NEW MEDIA AMERICA. Interestingly, or maybe not so much, the balance beam was righted by an influx of new executives and 2-3 white shoe law firms as well as a shuffling of internal legal and actuarial hires.
Jeremy clicked open the email thread and opened the word document with the most recent revisions of the ghostwritten film outline. It seemed large companies, much like the military with superhero and marvel comic adaptations, had found it was able to give a slight nudge through film. This was an ever growing area of marketing investment. The word processor froze a bit and Jeremy thought he would have to restart the program, but it sputtered to life and the document opened, spilling into Jeremy, slightly dry and now slightly painful eyes. He turned down the brightness and began to read.
TITLE: A FAMILY TRANSFORMED
Sponsored by C&J PharmaLyf
INTRODUCTION:
Mother, named Elena is a 38 year old woman: Elena is a driven professional, juggling both a demanding career and household responsibilities. Elena is the first person in her nuclear family to adopt the new headband device, hoping to reduce stress and maintain composure under pressure.
Father, named Marcus is a 40 year old man. Marcus is a caring, mildly anxious father who’s always worried about finances and the future of his family. Initially skeptical, he can’t help noticing Elena’s steady poise and fewer panic attacks.
Child, named Sam, is a 14 year old boy: An introspective, but not precocious teenager struggling with typical adolescent challenges: friendship drama, normal academic expectations, and for relatedness and the glow of cinema, the early pangs of heartbreak.
Scene 1: THE FAMILY
The headband, marketed as Xpanse, was a miniaturized, closed-loop neuromodulation device based on exciting, recent advancement in neuroscience technology. About 5 years ago, a joint research project between Carnegie Mellon, MIT, Stanford, and MGH use a combination of low-voltage, continuous stimulation to the scalp and an array of low-intensity ultrasounds place on a person’s skull to demonstrate a novel “phase locked, dynamic constructive interference” paradigm which allowed for target regulation of various brain networks. The devices worked by 1) delivering low dose, continuous current into the brain, this “primed it” for the next step where 2) the low-frequency ultrasound waves would converge into constructive waves, based on their orientation on the skull at particular superficial and deep brain areas. This would in turn activate or deactivate brain networks associated with things like sleep, awareness, mood, energy, attention, fear, memory, and social connection. The next year, the primary and co-investigators had won a litany of awards, promotions, and accolades. Their intellectual property was sold to a Norwegian tech firm. Fast forward to today, and you take a brain scan, a specialized headband is made to accommodate the ultrasound array that matches your skull anatomy and functional MRI results for the perfect placement and modulation of your unique brain and brain networks.
Elena’s transmutation was initially subtle. Her affect toned down, she’s now calmer under pressure and no longer appears frazzled by late-night emails. Actually, she doesn’t really have late-night emails anymore- those are finished by the time she gets home. Well she gets home an hour or two later, but still. Marcus appreciates the newfound tranquility in their home. There have been fewer arguments. There’s also no half-shouted questions or requests across the house. There hasn’t been more sex, but that’s fine for now. Unbeknownst to Elena, Marcus has been busy at work, but he’s also been fucking the new brunette intern occasionally. She got a new pixie cut and keeps calling herself a “darling”. Marcus liked that for some reason.
Sam, senses something is amiss. His Mother doesn’t carry the same warmth. Her gaze is filled with a perpetual serenity and it's just too steady and unyielding. Shortly after, Marcus gets a Xpanse headband to fight against the growing work stress. Marcus was feeling overshadowed by Elena’s unshakeable calm, he had to at least try the device. Soon, his anxieties melt away. That gnawing sense of impending doom is simply gone. He sleeps better, wakes up rested, but over time, the spontaneity in his humor and sweeping emotional palette fades into a tepid expanse of sameness. Arguments no longer spark, intimacy cools, and he’s no longer fucking his work “darling”.
Sam notices that his parents handle every problem with polite detachment, as if discussing someone else’s life with supreme disinterest. As both parents polish away the burs of their emotional edges, Sam is left to his own devices to navigate a world that is rapidly changing. When he tries to confide about bullying at school or the heartbreak of being ghosted by a friend, he’s met with gentle, almost clinical sympathy. Neither parent dives into the emotional depths he craves. Growing more isolated, Sam contemplates using the device: maybe to escape or maybe for the chance to feel that he still fits into his family somehow.
Scene 2: A CITY CAUGHT IN THE WAVE
Elena and Marcus share their success with neighbors, who spread the word to co-workers and acquaintances. At the same time, targeted ads flood the zone and everyone is rushing to get their hands on an Xpanse headband. Professional athletes are seen wearing them on commercials and music videos showcasing teeny boppers clad with the Xpanse device.
Some parents rush to outfit anxious teens with the device or to get an edge up for their child's college prep. Others refuse, worrying about stunting children’s natural emotional development. The divide quickly takes shape and is on display at parent-teacher association meetings and once welcoming neighborhood gatherings.
Employers almost instantaneously start offering subsidies for emotional modulation devices. “Xpanse to Advance” has become the unofficial motto. Workers who don’t opt-in sense an unspoken pressure to keep up with their impeccably regulated colleagues- most don’t last two quarters. There is a reshuffling of the social stratification- within months the city’s entire population splits into two broad camps. There are the optimized Users: Radiating calm, productivity, and unwavering euthymia. They gain promotions, appear more socially desirable, and handle pressure without visible cracks. While the non-user, remaining reliant on traditional coping methods: therapy, exercise, communal support, feel overshadowed, they’re now the outcast and they’re resentful. There’s a real stigma attached to those who “choose” to live with raw emotions.
Even small gatherings become awkward. Non-users argue that the “Xpanse drones” no longer express authentic concern or share the ups and downs that foster real camaraderie. The modulated users, for their part, struggle to understand why anyone would cling to stress and heartbreak. Heated local debates erupt at community boards and public forums, with some calling for regulation to ensure “ethical use.”
Scene 3: NATIONAL TURMOIL
As adoption spreads across multiple cities, savvy politicians see an opportunity. Some promise subsidized devices for everyone, claiming they’ll reduce crime, improve productivity, and usher in a “golden age of social harmony.” Opposing leaders decry these measures, warning of an Orwellian future where emotions are state-controlled. There are podcasts filled with conspiracists with crackpot theories why each path is part of an Evil Agenda, a Reptilian Agenda or a Plebeian, Indigo Child Prophecy.
Grassroots organizations spring up, demanding oversight. They warn that emotional modulation could be weaponized to suppress dissent. Protestors chant slogans like, “Real Emotions, Real Freedom!” leading to tense standoffs between device supporters and critics. Interestingly, sects from both Anarchist and Fundamentalist Christian groups team up into a loosely knit breakaway organization seemingly held together by a love of pipe bombs and homegrown E. coli poisonings.
Tech conglomerates move quickly to dominate the emotional modulation market. They lobby for favorable legislation, complicating the political landscape. Government officials receive campaign donations to promote widespread adoption, further deepening public suspicion.
National media outlets run high-profile stories: Pro-Modulation Segments showcase families with all-day positivity, bridging long-standing conflicts by “setting emotional thermostats.”
Facing a groundswell of unrest, national leaders debate emergency measures, some propose standardizing and demanding partial use of the Xpanse device to quell riots and reduce tension. Others insist that mass modulation of emotions is a human rights violation, akin to forcibly medicating an entire population. Conspiracy theories multiply, painting those who favor the device as orchestrators of a grand social experiment. Amid escalating rhetoric and sporadic violence, the country finds itself at an existential crossroads. Will leaders champion emotional autonomy at the cost of national unity and economic growth, or will they embrace technology to keep the populace calm at the risk of losing free will?
Scene 4: RETURNING TO THE FAMILY
In just a few short months, Elena and Marcus have risen professionally, admired for their unshakable composure. Sam, however, has retreated into himself, feeling abandoned by parents who appear more robotic each day. Elena finally powers down her device at the behest of her sister. She’s overwhelmed by a cascade of emotions. Marcus follows suit, and begins to weep with a rawness he hasn’t felt since he was a young man. In their living room, the three of them share tears and a long embrace. Elena breaks down over the emotional neglect she didn’t realize she was perpetuating. Marcus apologizes for his emotional absence and acknowledges the fear and anxiety driving him to rely on the Xpanse device. Sam, for his part, sobs with relief that his parents can finally meet him, heart-to-heart, in that vulnerable space he’s been stuck in alone. This emotional reunion hints at a glimmer of hope amid the national chaos. Authentic human connection: embracing the messy, challenging, and sometimes painful truths. In this they find the power to restore relationships and foster genuine empathy. The next scene ends on a bright day and each parent, Elena and Marcus, taking a pill in the morning clearly labeled with the CJPharmaLyf logo.
Scene 5: COLLECTIVE RECKONING
From a single family’s subtle drift toward emotional detachment to a nationwide socio-political crisis, the path of emotional modulation technology reveals the intricate web of cause and effect. At the individual level, relationships buckle under the weight of sanitized feelings. At the community level, cultural rifts widen between those who opt in and those who remain “unoptimized.” Nationally, the clash between promised utopia and potential tyranny fuels civil unrest. Ultimately, the heart of the matter remains the same: How much of our humanity, our grief, our ecstasy, our shared vulnerability are we willing to sacrifice in the pursuit of a pain-free life? As society grapples with that question on every level from intimate family dinners to national legislation- the answer will shape not just the future of mental health, but the very essence of who we are.
CLOSING SCENE:
Screen turns and brightens towards a grassy knoll and the subtle wind chimes fade away to the deep gong of an excessively large Tibetan singing bowl. A crowd of ethnically ambiguous, but clearly mostly white featured people hold hands as the C&J PharmaLyf logo appears in fairly large font/text almost taking up the entire field of view. Then underneath in smaller and inspiring font is displayed: FOR A BETTER TOMORROW.
Jeremy is surprised as he notices a small paragraph of text in a Times New Roman font. He reads over the message from his friend from college, Sam.
”The ending scene is just in jest, of course, Jeremy. Hope you are well, amigo! Stay safe out there on the streets, don’t let people know you are working with the “bad guys”. Oh yeah, are you coming by the demo day for V76 tonight? They are going to try to raise a fuck ton of money so you know the food is going to be great, plus maybe you can finally hook up with someone??? Stop being a loner and come. I’ll text you when I leave tonight and remind you!
Peace,
Samantha.”
Jeremy almost burst into a laughing fit at this as he thought, “A better tomorrow would be me taking a handful of C&J PharmaLyf’s cardio drug and waiting until his heart turned into a mass of concreted unable to pump blood.”
“So funny,” he thought how a drug meant to “improve myocardial perfusion efficiency”, by supposedly decreasing the amount of oxygen the cardiac tissue needed per contraction would lead to such a ironic adverse effect. Double ironic was that it was used off-label in the longevity space by tech bros and podcasters and served buffet style at med spas staffed by dubiously trained “clinicians” across the country. In any case, the civilian hype was mostly a sideshow. The real impetus behind this technology came from an early DARPA initiative geared toward maximizing infantry endurance and maintaining a persistent threat-response posture in the field.
This gave Jeremy a long pause, his generally bad at arithmetic and back-of-the-napkin math brain was grinding. Jeremy drifted into a hazy, half-baked daydream of thought,
“I wonder what the math on this was? Did the DARPA grant work out? I mean the drug did work as intended. It just killed 10% of the folks who take it after a few years.”
Jeremy shuddered a bit as his arm’s hair stood up on their ends and felt goosebumps erupt. He sunk deeper into this opaque spiral, “Afterall, that's what warfare has always been about”, his internal monologue stated in a calm, even tone. “It was just an equilibrium, just a simple equation defining some relationships between variables. On one side of the equal sign was your team, your allies and on the other was the enemy and theirs.
Each side caught in a tit for tat, locked into the hamster wheel of attempting to increase their odds. There were traditional factors that existed for a millenia such as manpower and geography, you know the metaphorical high-ground, and raw firepower which included things like air superiority and ground control with planes, artillery, tanks.
Then there were psychological warfare tactics and deception which included sabotage of civilian, military, and agricultural infrastructure, assassination, and now cyberattacks. The element of surprise and utilization of stealth technologies. Jeremey’s stomach clenched and for a moment, he was back in his chair at this computer, but the undertow of thought was too strong, he sank beneath the surface of his awareness of the world.
His mind went right back as it had never left the stream of thought, “Then there was the real nasty stuff for area denial or mass decapitation, land mines, nuclear weapons, chemical weapons, biological weapons.
Lastly, there was the joke of diplomacy, which was a thinly veiled reminder of the above atrocities arriving on the doorstep of the poor son of a bitch who didn’t come to an agreement with favorable terms.”
At this point, Jeremy’s calm, tepid inner monologue tone had devolved into a guttural and rageful force, Something that might spill out of a frothing, rabid wolf's jowls.
“So yea”, Jeremy thought, “If the US military could up the manpower component on their side of the equation, even at the cost of 10% of their manpower cost-averaged over 2 years, they’d pay 30 pieces of silver. They’d do it, and maybe it would buy them a successful ground assault for clearing the densely populated areas where the autonomous drones and machine gun-mounted quadroped robots couldn’t get the job done.”
Jeremy snapped back from the long slide of this thought with the familiar ding from his inbox notification alerting him to a high priority email. He opened it without hesitation, it was from Epogee.
“Dear Jeremy, we hope this email finds you well. We want to be clear, we appreciate your interest and time you’ve put into the new hire process. Unfortunately, due to a rapidly changing landscape, we are no longer seeking new candidates for this role. We hope that…”
Jeremy closed the email before he finished and opened his email with Samantha. His computer fan kicked on with a hum that was familiar and quite soothing. The C&J PharmaLyf Backstory for the ad campaign needed some minor revisions. He hit reply and started to draft a short email in response:
“ Sam,
The story is generally solid, especially for a rough script. I think we can send this off to be filled out a bit more by the screenwriters, well almost. Some of the strengths are,1) I think we touch on enough areas at the front of the general public's concerns around any additional power being ceded to corporations or government and 2) people seem to have this sense they really, really need each other now and any threat, no matter how small or how minor to that connection is incredibly disquieting.
That said, I think we can strike a bit deeper, really fuel the fear. I think our accelerant here is the child. We need to show that a family will blow up like a van stocked full of fertilizer and diesel if this type of technology gets off the ground. We want “Moms Against Neurotechnology” picketing at the White House after this thing comes out. We want people to consider using rotary phones and dial up again. So, the last scene where the mom takes off the headband and her feelings come rushing back, you know and the relieving and elevated music might play and it's all sunshine and rainbows? We’ve got to have that be a cutscene and then snap back into reality or cut it completely.
Here’s what needs to happen, the little boy offs himself in some gruesome way, like swallows a childhood toy that is small and chokes. Maybe have it be a toy that we show in the beginning of an old home movie or or photo. A toy soldier's helmet or something. Thinking about it now, he’s 14 so maybe that's stupid. I’d say maybe he overdoses on his mother’s prozac, but that wouldn’t be a good look at pushing folks back towards our pharma side of things. Let’s stick with an old playbook- he gets some illicit psychedelics and they are laced with Chinese fentanyl for dumbfuck reason. Kid dies on the couch, his friends wearing neurotech leave his ass because in their cold dead minds there isn’t any benefit in helping since they’re on the hook for getting it in the first place. The kicker will be when the parents come home from their work party, they find him too. The Mother is somewhat human at first, but can’t bear it. She looks to her husband who give her a knowing look and the mom turns her emotions down; they calmly call the police and quickly clean up the mess. The next day they have a normal breakfast conversation. It's sterile and unsettling. The same day, before noon even they have a moving crew come in and take his stuff to the landfill. They keep a single photo, the one that was on the mantle and put it in an obscured drawer somewhere in the back of the house. After that adjustment, send it back for one last review, then we can ship it. Long live C&J PharmaLyf.
I’ll see you at the V76 shin-dig, but do remind me with a call or text- I don’t want to miss it if I get sucked into a movie or fall asleep. Phone is on ring!
See you soon,
J”
Jeremy shut the screen of his workstation, he couldn’t see jack shit. The sun had gone down while he was working and staring into his screen for an hour and now sitting in the dark, he was practically blind. Luckily, despite his apartment being around 1200 square feet, the open layout made it a novice task to navigate from memory. Jeremy walked a few steps to his left, then gracefully swung rightwared, veering around the edge of his leather couch. His leftmost aspect of his knee just barely grazing the seat cushion. This was a nice data point for his next move. He took a hard left and traced the wall until it opened into his bedroom. A few feet into the room and he was at his nightstand. His eyes were already adjusting to the darkness as he pulled open the drawer and removed a .357 magnum revolver. It was the Smith & Wesson he’d been gifted by his grandfather after getting into Iowa. It was superlight for a handgun of this caliber and especially for one with a 5 inch barrel. It was still heavy. Not as heavy as he remembers the first time he felt it. The first time he felt its weight in his hand it was incredible, almost like it was made of tungsten. It seemed to be imbued with an almost supernatural weight given its exquisitely crafted and meticulously milled components. Over time, his hand learned its stone cold, smooth edges. The way his hand had to loosen and stiffen in different ways to apply enough pressure to extend the hammer while maintaining a secure purchase or how the weight of his finger could measure 3.5lbs against the trigger before the hammer snapped back into place. Just as mesmerizing was the seductive whirl of the cylinder and its gaudy bronze bullets which fit, just absolutely perfectly. Now it was almost like a leg, certainly heavy, but nothing you’d think about while on the move given your intimacy and familiarity with it.
Jeremy removed the 5 magnum shells from their resting place and laid them on top of the nightstand then took the revolver outside onto the balcony. The night was cold already, mid-November in Pittsburg wasn’t a cake walk, but it didn’t feel as cold as back home, the wind was less piercing. He looked over his balcony, about 10 stories down he could see a row of people huddled near a partially contained fire. Despite paying almost $4000 a month, this was his view. Jeremy thought to himself about how lucky those folks must be for the kindness to rot and freeze in the streets at the guidance of those with “Lived Experience”, championed by the good natured, better than though “libtards”. In any case, the “opposing” party went along, with the required performative outrage, please as punch because it didn’t dip too far in the budget, much less than a functioning State Hospital system would or some sort of tiered system where people could spend a year really getting off the drugs or getting their psychosis under control, then maybe 5-6 months getting rehabilitated and ready to contribute, and then some stable housing as they started to work, and then some affordable housing as they started to save money and make some real connections in the community. Plus all the infighting helped pass unpopular legislation by bulldozing it through an omnibus package at midnight to avoid a government shutdown. It also helped that most everyone that voted for the policies that left the unfortunate bastards freezing in the city center didn’t have to watch them slowly turn into zombies and die. This was a thought that stopped as suddenly as it started as a cramp shot into Jeremy’s hand grasping the magnum. Jeremy sat down into the Adirondack chair and put the barrel of the revolver in his mouth. It was cold and its girth comically lacking for something that had the ability to spray his brains across the porch ceiling. He put his tongue flat onto the barrel, its supple, muscular form bulging into the barrel and filling the etched rifling with saliva. He could taste the acarine and sulfuric spent gunpowder from the last time he went shooting years ago. He pushed the barrel deeper. As he lowered his head the barrel rose onto the place between his soft and hard palate with his bottom teeth now chattering along the careless steel. His lower lip was pulled down, freezing and thawing with each heavy breath. This whole routine used to give Jeremy an intense buzzing like he was going to burst into electric flames, but at this point he felt almost nothing. A quick flick of his thumb and the hammer of the gun snapped into position. Jeremy’s right hand grasped around the left hand holding the sandalwood grip and his mind was a white, staticless scene with no bounds as he pulled the trigger. A solid report of metal on metal signified the dance had ended. Jeremy removed the gun from mouth and went back inside.
His phone rang, it was Sam. Jeremy let it go to voicemail and then it dinged from a text message, “Hey heading out, still coming?” Jeremy, replied, “Throwing on my coat, see you soon.”
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2025.01.21 01:20 Peerism1 Introduction_to_Machine_Learning: NEW Courses - star count:1487.0
 | submitted by Peerism1 to algoprojects [link] [comments] |
2025.01.21 01:20 Peerism1 finnhub-python: NEW Data - star count:595.0
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2025.01.21 01:20 call-me-smack Finally
 | Ever since I started playing this game, all I’ve wanted is a 15 kill game. after 3,400 hours, 10,000 games, countless 14 kill games, 15 kill games with a bot kill, I kinda gave up. Then I stopped playing a lot last year, instead I played a couple games a month, and stopped entirely in the last 2 months. I hopped back on yesterday, and nailed this game on my 6th game back. submitted by call-me-smack to PUBGConsole [link] [comments] |
2025.01.21 01:20 XEclipse360 Good roguelikes
I finished playing Dead Cells and Hades and really enjoyed them a lot and I wanted to hear some recommendations for some good roguelikes like these for me to play since I really like the gameplay style of dieing and getting better every run.
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2025.01.21 01:20 Pirate_s_ Inflation: 15 universal points for 1 Toty token
 | https://preview.redd.it/pzxv7d3u09ee1.png?width=1660&format=png&auto=webp&s=8e3321f6a97046a12ad3c4d214ccf3db829dc08f submitted by Pirate_s_ to FUTMobile [link] [comments] |
2025.01.21 01:20 Peerism1 Axial-LOB-High-Frequency-Trading-with-Axial-Attention: NEW Extended Research - star count:50.0
 | submitted by Peerism1 to algoprojects [link] [comments] |
2025.01.21 01:20 YeshiRangjung We got what we wanted
Of course we didn’t get a video of an alien or a UAP crashing and getting recovered. Of course.
We got firsthand testimony and video footage of a successful UAP retrieval, something the Gov has always denied.
We now have clear evidence that there is possibly a non human intelligence operating in our air and maritime spaces.
If you don’t feel ontological excitement (shock is a strong word) then you haven’t been paying attention.
We got what we wanted and now it’s time to drive the point home to Congress. Period.
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2025.01.21 01:20 mediocre_weinering MF4M
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2025.01.21 01:20 AzazelAlv Portal del Viento "Fernet"
 | Una poronga Alguien aca me habia dicho que eran chotos, mi hermana probo uno de frambuesa y me dijo "era re feo", mis viejos probaron un par y me dijeron que son feos, lo acabo de probar y no me queda mas que confirmarles que efectivamente, son una poronga La masa medio seca y fina, el dulce de leche medio medio, al menos no tiene tan poco pero tampoco es muy rico, respecto al sabor, es el chocolate en estos alfajores lo que viene saborizado, se siente el sabor a chocolate (generico) a la vez que se siente un poco el gusto a fernet (medio artificial), encima la cobertura es finita y en este caso como hacia calor se derritio y se pego al papel, lo mande a la heladera y asi quedo Nota: 1.8/5 Sigue sin ser el alfajor mas choto que probe, pero ni en pedo lo recomiendo, llega a 1.8 porque al menos no es feo, lo malo es que tampoco es rico Pd: Quien me mando a comprar 2 🤦🏻, mañana pruebo el de cafe que mi vieja ya me spoileo que, oh sorpresa, tambien es feo submitted by AzazelAlv to Alfajor [link] [comments] |
2025.01.21 01:20 dubs_32 Workbench for Small Space
Hey yall - building a smallish workbench for my small garage shop that I can wheel into the corner when not in use.
Any additions you think could improve or things you wish you'd have added prior to building one yourself?
Will use 3/4" ply and wanted taller bench since I'm a tall guy.
submitted by dubs_32 to BeginnerWoodWorking [link] [comments]