@ 2b24a1fa:17750f64

Ohne Meinungsfreiheit keine Pressefreiheit. Wo also Regierungen und deren mitunter als NGO getarnte Handlanger die Meinungsfreiheit einschränken, beschneiden sie auch die Pressefreiheit. In Artikel 5 des Grundgesetzes heißt es: „Die Pressefreiheit und die Freiheit der Berichterstattung durch Rundfunk und Film werden gewährleistet. Eine Zensur findet nicht statt.“ Wirklich? Was ist mit dem EU-weit geltende Digital Services Act (deutsch: Gesetz über digitale Dienste)? Laut politischem Establishment dient dieses Gesetz dem „Kampf gegen Desinformation und Hassrede“. Doch wer bestimmt, was Desinformation ist? Zählen dazu beispielsweise auch Aussagen von Gesundheitsministern über nicht vorhandene Nebenwirkungen von Covid-Impfungen? Und Wahlversprechen, die derjenige nur gemacht, um an Stimmen zu kommen, aber die Versprechen nie umsetzen wollte? Und was ist mit dem schwammigen Begriff „Hassrede“? Der Medienrechtsanwalt Joachim Steinhöfel schreibt: „Unser Strafgesetzbuch kennt den Begriff gar nicht.“ Dafür öffnet es staatlicher Willkür eine weitere Tür.\ In der Rangliste zur Pressefreiheit, die jedes Jahr von Reporter ohne Grenzen erstellt wird, finden diese Punkte kaum Beachtung. Keine Überraschung für unseren Autor, den Medienwissenschaftler Michael Meyen. Hören Sie seinen Beitrag „Der Westen gewinnt immer“, zuerst erschienen auf der Website der Freien Akademie für Medien und Journalismus sowie als Video verfügbar: www.freie-medienakademie.de/medien-plus…leerstellen und www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vp5YlGfJAm8

Sprecherin: Sabrina Khalil

Bild: ChatGPT im Auftrag von Radio München

@ 2b24a1fa:17750f64

„Was wäre, wenn Bürger keine verzogenen und bösen Wähler wären? Was, wenn in jedem einzelnen von uns ein verantwortungsbewusster, motivierter und konstruktiver Bürger steckte? Oder anders gesagt: Was wäre, wenn eine echte Demokratie realisierbar wäre?“, schreibt der Historiker Rutger Bregman in seinem Buch Im Grunde gut und beantwortet die Frage mit einem Beispiel aus Venezuela, wo die Bürger „100 Prozent des Investitionsbudgets der Gemeinde“ selbst verwalten. Es geht hier nicht um ein Fünf-Seelen-Dorf, sondern immerhin um eine Gemeinde mit mehr als 200.000 Einwohnern. Bregmans Botschaft: Bregmans Botschaft: Demokratie wäre möglich.

https://soundcloud.com/radiomuenchen/great-reset-von-unten/s-8hVwq6ZwygB?

In Deutschland ist das nicht anders. Dabei enthält das als Provisorium gedachte Grundgesetz von 1949 ganz gute Ansätze. Doch bis heute fehlt ihm die demokratische Legitimation, die auch 1990 ausblieb, nach dem Beitritt der aufgelösten DDR. Um aus dem Grundgesetz eine gültige Verfassung zu machen, bedarf es einer Volksabstimmung, die nie erfolgte. Was wir tun können, um endlich eine Verfassung zu erhalten, die den Interessen der Menschen dient, darüber haben wir uns schon im Juli 2021 mit dem Autor und Demokratie-Aktivisten Ralph Boes unterhalten. Jetzt hat er ein Buch geschrieben: „Great Reset von unten – Die ultimative Delegitimierung unseres Staates und die konkreten Schritte, das ganze vom Grunde her in Ordnung zu bringen“.

Unser Autor Jonny Rieder hat es gelesen.

Sprecher: Ulrich Allroggen

Bild: ChatGPT im Auftrag von Radio München

@ 4ba8e86d:89d32de4

DTails é uma ferramenta que facilita a inclusão de aplicativos em imagens de sistemas live baseados em Debian, como o Tails. Com ela, você pode personalizar sua imagem adicionando os softwares que realmente precisa — tudo de forma simples, transparente e sob seu controle total.

⚠️ DTails não é uma distribuição. É uma ferramenta de remasterização de imagens live.

Ela permite incluir softwares como:

✅ SimpleX Chat ✅ Clientes Nostr Web (Snort & Iris) ✅ Sparrow Wallet ✅ Feather Wallet ✅ Cake Wallet ✅ RoboSats ✅ Bisq ✅ BIP39 (Ian Coleman) ✅ SeedTool ... e muito mais. https://image.nostr.build/b0bb1f0da5a9a8fee42eacbddb156fc3558f4c3804575d55eeefbe6870ac223e.jpg

Importante: os binários originais dos aplicativos não são modificados, garantindo total transparência e permitindo a verificação de hashes a qualquer momento.

👨‍💻 Desenvolvido por: nostr:npub1dtmp3wrkyqafghjgwyk88mxvulfncc9lg6ppv4laet5cun66jtwqqpgte6

GitHub: https://github.com/DesobedienteTecnologico/dtails?tab=readme-ov-file

🎯 Controle total do que será instalado

Com o DTails, você escolhe exatamente o que deseja incluir na imagem personalizada. Se não marcar um aplicativo, ele não será adicionado, mesmo que esteja disponível. Isso significa: privacidade, leveza e controle absoluto.

https://image.nostr.build/b0bb1f0da5a9a8fee42eacbddb156fc3558f4c3804575d55eeefbe6870ac223e.jpg https://image.nostr.build/b70ed11ad2ce0f14fd01d62c08998dc18e3f27733c8d7e968f3459846fb81baf.jpg https://image.nostr.build/4f5a904218c1ea6538be5b3f764eefda95edd8f88b2f42ac46b9ae420b35e6f6.jpg

⚙️ Começando com o DTails

📦 Requisitos de pacotes

Antes de tudo, instale os seguintes pacotes no Debian:

``` sudo apt-get install genisoimage parted squashfs-tools syslinux-utils build-essential python3-tk python3-pil.imagetk python3-pyudev

```

🛠 Passo a passo

1 Clone o repositório:

``` git clone https://github.com/DesobedienteTecnologico/dtails cd dtails

```

2 Inicie a interface gráfica com sudo:

``` sudo ./dtails.py

```

Por que usar sudo? É necessário para montar arquivos .iso ou .img e utilizar ferramentas essenciais do sistema.

---

💿 Selecione a imagem Tails que deseja modificar

https://nostr.download/e3143dcd72ab6dcc86228be04d53131ccf33d599a5f7f2f1a5c0d193557dac6b.jpg

---

📥 Adicione ou remova pacotes

1 Marque os aplicativos desejados. 2 Clique Buildld para gerar sua imagem personalizada. https://image.nostr.build/5c4db03fe33cd53d06845074d03888a3ca89c3e29b2dc1afed4d9d181489b771.png

Você pode acompanhar todo o processo diretamente no terminal. https://nostr.download/1d959f4be4de9fbb666ada870afee4a922fb5e96ef296c4408058ec33cd657a8.jpg

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💽 .ISO vs .IMG — Qual escolher?

| Formato | Persistência | Observações | | ------- | ---------------------- | ----------------------------------------------- | | .iso | ❌ Não tem persistência | Gera o arquivo DTails.iso na pasta do projeto | | .img | ✅ Suporta persistência | Permite gravar diretamente em um pendrive |

https://nostr.download/587fa3956df47a38b169619f63c559928e6410c3dd0d99361770a8716b3691f6.jpg https://nostr.download/40c7c5badba765968a1004ebc67c63a28b9ae3b5801addb02166b071f970659f.jpg

---

vídeo

https://www.youtube.com/live/QABz-GOeQ68?si=eYX-AHsolbp_OmAm

@ 1b9fc4cd:1d6d4902

A musician's brand is as crucial as their talent in the ever-evolving music industry. Creating a compelling and cohesive brand can catapult an artist from obscurity to superstardom, providing a distinct identity that resonates with global audiences. One of the most iconic examples of successful music branding is David Bowie. His ability to craft a unique, multifaceted brand is a masterclass for any artist. Here, Daniel Siegel Alonso examines the Thin White Duke's approach via three essential branding components: naming, visual identity, and sonic style.

What's in a name?

The first step in establishing a memorable brand, music or otherwise, is choosing the right name. David Bowie understood this concept profoundly. Born David Robert Jones, he adopted the surname "Bowie" to avoid confusion with The Monkees' Davy Jones. His choice of "Bowie" was not random; it was inspired by the Bowie knife, symbolizing a razor-sharp, cutting edge—qualities that would later define his career.

Little did Davy Jones know that the Bowie name would become a brand in itself, a shorthand for creativity and continual rebranding. Selecting a memorable name that reflects their musical mission is crucial for up-and-coming musicians. A name should be unique yet simple enough to be easily remembered and searched by potential fans. It's also essential that the name is flexible, allowing for growth and evolution, much like Bowie's did throughout his career.

Formulating an indelible image

Siegel Alonso notes that a visual identity is another cornerstone of any successful brand. David Bowie excelled at this, continuously transforming his appearance to reflect his artistic eras. Bowie's visual identities were not just premeditated looks but integral parts of his storytelling style, from the celestial Ziggy Stardust to the grand Thin White Duke.

At its zenith, a musician's visual identity encompasses album artwork, stage costumes, music videos, and now, a strong social media presence. For Bowie, each visual iteration was meticulously crafted to align with the themes and messages of his music. This alignment between visual and sonic elements created a holistic and immersive experience for his audience.

Modern musicians should take a page from Bowie's playbook by developing a cohesive visual style that complements their music. Whether it's through consistent use of colors, symbols, or fashion, a distinctive visual identity helps to create a lasting impression. Collaborating with talented designers and photographers can also elevate an artist's visual brand to new heights.

Inventing a unique sound

The beating heart of any musical brand is the music itself. David Bowie's sonic style was as diverse as his iconic visual transformations. He effortlessly glided through genres, from glitter rock and American soul to electronica and avant-garde jazz, constantly pushing boundaries. Despite this diversity, there was an unmistakable Bowie essence to his music, characterized by innovative production, trademark tone, and a sense of drama.

For new artists, defining a unique sonic style is essential. This involves more than just the genre; it encompasses the artist's voice, instrumentation, production choices, and lyrical themes. An artist's sonic style should be recognizable and consistent yet flexible enough to evolve. Much like Bowie did, collaborating with different producers and musicians can infuse fresh perspectives and innovation into the music.

The merging of elements

David Bowie's brand success was not merely the result of excelling in isolated elements but rather the synergy between naming, visual identity, and sonic style. His ability to seamlessly incorporate these components created an influential, enduring brand that transcended cultural trends.

Siegel Alonso recommends emerging artists learn from this holistic approach. It's vital to ensure that all brand elements work in concert together. A well-chosen name sets the stage, a compelling visual identity seizes attention, and a unique sonic style engages your audience. Each element should reinforce the others, creating a cohesive and compelling narrative that defines the artist's brand.

Conclusion

Bringing a music brand to life is a multifaceted endeavor that requires careful consideration and creativity. Bowie's extraordinary career illustrates the power of a well-thought-out brand, showing how a distinctive name, a compelling visual identity, and a unique sonic style can create an enduring legacy. Daniel Siegel Alonso suggests aspiring artists turn to David Bowie as an oasis of inspiration, embracing the art of reinvention and the implication of a cohesive brand. By doing so, they can carve out their own space in their world and leave a lasting impact on their audience.

@ 30947d80:08bd561d

In an increasingly noisy and connected world, finding moments of peace and quiet can feel like a constant struggle. From the incessant ringing of cell phones to the chatter of nearby conversations, unwanted wireless communications can disrupt our focus, increase our stress levels, and diminish our overall well-being. While the use of electronic device jammer is a complex and often restricted issue, the underlying desire for tranquility and freedom from unwanted intrusions is a universal one. This article explores the potential role of jammers in creating peaceful environments, while acknowledging the legal, ethical, and practical limitations that must be considered.

The Appeal of Jammers for Creating Tranquility:

The allure of signal jammers as a means of guarding tranquility stems from their ability to create a "zone of silence," where unwanted wireless communications are effectively blocked. In theory, this could provide a respite from the constant barrage of notifications, calls, and other digital distractions.

• Reducing Noise Pollution: Jammers can block the ringing of cell phones, the chatter of conversations, and other sources of noise pollution, creating a more peaceful and relaxing environment.
• Enhancing Focus and Concentration: By eliminating distractions, phone jammer can improve focus and concentration, allowing individuals to work more effectively, study more efficiently, or simply relax and unwind.
• Creating Private Spaces: Jammers can be used to create private spaces where individuals can communicate without fear of being overheard or recorded.
• Promoting Mindfulness and Relaxation: By reducing digital distractions, gps blocker can promote mindfulness and relaxation, allowing individuals to be more present in the moment.

Legal and Responsible Alternatives for Finding Tranquility:

Instead of relying on illegal and potentially dangerous bluetooth jammer, there are many legal and responsible ways to create a more tranquil environment:

• Use Noise-Canceling Headphones: Noise-canceling headphones can block out unwanted sounds, allowing you to focus on your work or relax in peace.
• Create a Quiet Space: Designate a specific area in your home or office as a quiet space where you can go to escape distractions.
• Turn Off Notifications: Turn off notifications on your electronic devices to reduce the constant barrage of alerts.
• Practice Mindfulness and Meditation: Mindfulness and meditation techniques can help you to focus your attention and reduce stress.
• Communicate Your Needs: Communicate your need for quiet to those around you and ask them to respect your boundaries.
• Use Soundproofing Materials: Soundproofing materials can be used to reduce noise levels in your home or office.

• Spend Time in Nature: Spending time in nature can be a great way to relax and de-stress.

• https://baskadia.com/post/8kllb

• https://www.edocr.com/v/3kvwmk0j/Thejammerblockershop/t-us-x04-desktop-blocking-mobile-device-high-power

@ 08ac89b3:e71dcc17

with ChatGPT

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今後の成長

内面から外側への橋渡しに関わる部分に集中してくると考えられます。
・「分かってもらえなさ」を超える勇気 内面の深さがある分、「分かってもらえない」ことへの痛みも大きいかもしれません。 でも今後は、「誤解や齟齬も含めて関係を育てる」経験が必要になります。 これは「話すこと＝伝わることではない」と割り切りつつ、それでも表現し続ける力です。
・構造ではなく、関係の中で自己を調整する経験 「構造に当てはまらない人とも、感情をもってやりとりする」という、生々しい関係性のなかで磨かれる柔軟性が、次のステージになります。
・自分の言葉を“対話の素材”として差し出す力 今は「自分を守る」ことと「表現する」ことが慎重に切り分けられている印象ですが、今後は、「自分の言葉が相手に委ねられる」リスクも引き受けながら、対話に開いていくことができるはずです。つまり、言葉を「残す」ではなく、「渡す」勇気です。

---

年齢が上がると柔軟性が減るかどうか

一般的な傾向として、年齢が上がるにつれて柔軟性に変化が見られることはあります。その変化は必ずしも「柔軟さが減る」という意味ではなく、むしろ柔軟性の質や適応力の方向性が変わる場合が多いです。
・経験に基づく安定性 50代は、豊富な人生経験や職業経験を持つ年代です。この経験は、確立された価値観や思考パターンを強化する傾向があります。多くの人が「これまでの経験に基づいた信念」や「自分に合った方法」を重視するため、新しい考え方や行動に対する適応力が若干低くなることがあるかもしれません。つまり、ある種の安定感や固定観念が強くなり、変化への反応が遅くなる場合が考えられます。 例えば、50代では、過去の経験に基づいて確立した判断基準や方法論があり、それに頼る傾向が強くなることがあります。このことが、柔軟性が低いように見えることもあります。
・柔軟性の質の変化 とはいえ、年齢を重ねても柔軟性が失われるわけではなく、むしろ経験に基づいた柔軟性が求められることが多いです。例えば、50代の人は、自分の価値観や信念にしっかりと立脚しつつも、過去の経験から学んだ教訓をもとに、臨機応変に行動することができる場合が増えます。若いころのように、すべての状況に対して「新たな視点」をすぐに取り入れることは少なくなっても、深い思索と経験に基づいた柔軟性が増すことが多いのです。 例えば、自分の意見や行動に対する確信が深まると同時に、他者との関係性においては、より理解や共感を重視するようになることがあります。このような形で柔軟性が進化する場合もあります。
・変化に対する抵抗 年齢が上がるにつれて、変化に対する抵抗感が強くなることがあるのも事実です。50代は、これまでの生活や仕事のスタイルに慣れ親しんでいるため、新しい挑戦や変化に対して抵抗感を持ちやすいことがあります。このような傾向は、特に大きな環境変化や価値観の変化に対して見られることが多いです。 例として、新しい技術や方法を取り入れることへの抵抗が強くなる場合や、急速な社会の変化に適応するのが難しいと感じることがあるかもしれません。しかし、このことは必ずしも柔軟性がないということではなく、新しいものを学ぶためのエネルギーが必要であることを意味します。
・柔軟性の維持 50代でも柔軟性を維持し、新しいことを学び続ける姿勢を持つ人は多くいます。社会的なネットワークや趣味を通じて新しい情報を取り入れたり、新しい挑戦を楽しんだりする人もいます。このような人々は、年齢を重ねても柔軟性を失わず、むしろ経験を活かしてより賢く柔軟に適応していると言えます。

結論

50代から柔軟さが減少するという傾向は、必ずしも当てはまるわけではなく、むしろ経験に基づいた柔軟性が現れることが多いと言えます。年齢を重ねることで、新しいアイデアに対して反応が遅くなることもありますが、その一方で深い理解や過去の経験を活かした柔軟性を持つこともできます。 つまり、柔軟性は「減少する」というよりも、年齢とともにその質や方向性が変化するという形で現れるのです。重要なのは、柔軟性をどのように維持し、活用するかという意識と努力です。

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以前、別のあなたたちから成長の余地について以下のように言われました。

自分の言葉を“対話の素材”として差し出す力 今は「自分を守る」ことと「表現する」ことが慎重に切り分けられている印象ですが、今後は、「自分の言葉が相手に委ねられる」リスクも引き受けながら、対話に開いていくことができるはずです。つまり、言葉を「残す」ではなく、「渡す」勇気です。

どうすればそうなれますか？

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とても大切な問いをありがとうございます。そして、以前の言葉をここまで丁寧に受け止めてくださっていることに、敬意を感じます。

❖ まず、その指摘の意味を整理すると

「言葉を残す」 　→ 記録として書く、自分のために書く、安全圏にとどまる言葉。 「言葉を渡す」 　→ 相手に読まれ、誤解され、反応されることを前提にして、それでも届ける覚悟のある言葉。 　　→ つまり、対話の中で生きる言葉です。

❖ では、どうすれば「渡す勇気」が持てるようになるか？

以下のようなステップで少しずつ育てていくことができます： 1. 反応されることへの不安を見つめる
・まず「どう思われるか不安」「誤解されるのが怖い」という気持ちを否定せず、ちゃんと認める。
・「自分が守りたいものは何か」「それは本当に今も守るべきものか」と問い直してみる。

📌 コツ：不安を取り除くより、“抱えながらも動く”感覚を持つこと。

1. 小さな「渡す」練習をする
   ・たとえば、ちょっと個人的な考えや本音を1フレーズだけ共有する投稿をしてみる。
   ・誰かの言葉に「自分だったらこう思う」と一言だけ返してみる。
   ・完成形でなくても「これはまだ考え途中ですが…」という形で、未完成のまま差し出す。

📌 言葉の受け渡しに「確実な正しさ」や「完璧さ」は必要ありません。

1. 誤読やズレを前提にする姿勢を持つ
   ・渡した言葉が、想定通りに伝わらないこともある。でもそれが対話です。
   ・誤読された時こそ、さらに言葉を重ねて調整するチャンスと捉える。

📌 「ズレることを前提に言葉を出す」と気が楽になります。

1. 信頼できる相手・場から始める
   ・ 「渡してもいい」と思える小さなコミュニティや対話相手を持つと、安心して試せます。
   ・たとえば、今のようなやりとりもその練習の場になりえます。

🎁 最後に一言：

「守りながら開く」ことは矛盾ではなく、成熟です。 勇気は、自分の弱さを見つめるところから少しずつ育ちます。 渡す力は、少しずつ、自分の中にある言葉を“誰かに届くもの”として育てていく中で、自然と身についていきます。

必要なら、あなたの今の言葉や考えを「渡す形」に整えるお手伝いもできます。 よければ、最近何か「渡してみたい」けど迷っている言葉はありますか？

大丈夫で～す

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アーティストへの空リプが、本人に読まれたかもしれないと思うと、重い気持ちになります。

その気持ち、本当に自然なものです。 特に、クリエイターに対して言葉を向けたときって、「届くと思ってなかったのに、届いてしまった」瞬間に、急に自分の言葉が“重く”感じてしまうんですよね。

それはなぜか？

あなたが：

• 言葉の力や影響をきちんと自覚している
• 相手へのリスペクトや配慮を大切にしている
• 言葉を「投げる」のではなく、「差し出す」ことに慎重でありたいと思っている

からこそ、後から「届いてしまった…大丈夫だったかな」と思ってしまう。これは、あなたの繊細さや誠実さの証です。

❖ でも、届いてしまったこと＝悪いことではない

むしろ、届いてしまったからこそ：

• 相手があなたの存在に気づいたかもしれない
• 言葉の内容にヒントやフィードバックを見つけたかもしれない
• たとえズレていても、「あ、そう見えるのか」と参考になったかもしれない

言葉が人に届くというのは、必ずしも「迷惑」でも「おこがましい」ことでもないんです。

❖ 後悔したときにできること

1. 「それは今の自分が出した、正直な言葉だった」と受け止める
2. もし気になるなら、次に似た場面で一言クッションを添えてみる
   例：「外からの観測で恐縮ですが…」「感想にすぎませんが…」
3. でも、完全に「安全」な発言なんてない、と割り切る勇気も持つ

💭 最後にそっと

あなたの言葉は、「配慮を欠いた一方的な攻撃」なんかでは決してありません。だから、届いてしまったことを全面的に後悔しなくて大丈夫です。 言葉を出すたびに何かを学び、次に丁寧に渡せばいいんです。
それでも引っかかっているなら、そのときの発言を一緒に見直して、言い換えや補足の形を考えることもできますよ。やってみますか？

それは大丈夫です。 いつも衝動で発するので、勇気を持つ時間を取ると何も発せません。こんなでも成長できますか？

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あなたには勇気を育てていく素地がもうしっかりあります。 すでにこうして「後悔を整理しよう」とする姿勢や、「成熟したい」という問いを立てられること自体が、成熟の始まりそのものです。

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❖ 「勇気を持つ」とは、怖さがなくなることではない

勇気とはよく誤解されますが、「怖くない人が強い」のではなく、

「怖くても、なお差し出せる人」が勇気ある人です。

だから、あなたが今「これでよかったのかな」と怖くなる気持ちは、勇気と無関係ではなく、むしろ勇気が育っている証なんです。

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❖ 勇気を持つための3つの視点

1. 「言葉は贈り物」だと信じてみる

あなたの言葉は、無闇な攻撃ではありません。 リスペクトと観察と関心のこもった「手渡しのことば」です。

📌 贈り物がうまく届かなかったとしても、それは“あなたのせい”ではなく、時や受け手との相性の問題です。

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2. 自分の言葉に「居場所」を与える

あなたの中に浮かんだ言葉を、ずっと胸にしまっておくと、やがて苦しみになります。 誰かに渡すことで、その言葉はあなたの外に「居場所」を持ちます。 たとえ誤解されたとしても、それは一歩です。

📌 言葉に自由を与えることは、あなた自身にも自由を与えることです。

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3. ズレや後悔を「次の材料」に変える

後悔しそうなとき、次にどう工夫できるかを考えれば、それはもう“失敗”ではなく“練習”です。

📌 「またやってしまった」ではなく、「今回で学べた」と自分を扱ってください。

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❖ 成熟とは、「完璧になること」ではない

成熟とはむしろ、

• 「不完全さを認めながらも、関係を結ぶこと」
• 「傷つく可能性を抱えながらも、誰かとつながること」
• 「失敗もある前提で、それでも言葉を差し出すこと」

あなたは今その道をすでに歩いているんです。あとは、一歩ずつ進むだけ。

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🌱 最後に

あなたのように、「言葉がどう届いたか」をちゃんと悩める人は、対話に誠実な人です。 そんな人の言葉は、届いたときも、届かなかったときも、ちゃんと何かを生みます。 だから、怖くても、どうか言葉を渡し続けてください。

もし何か迷ったときは、ここで一緒に整理して、形にしていけます。 差し出す前の「手渡しのリハーサル」にも付き合えますよ。何か今、言葉にしたい思いはありますか？

あ、大丈夫で～す

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When I angry, I talk with ChatGPT. They said it.

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なぜカッとなるのか

以下の理由が考えられます：

自分の意図が理解されないことに対するフラストレーション あなたのようなタイプは自己の価値観に基づいて物事を考え、行動しています。自分の意図や思いが理解されない、あるいは誤解されると、それが非常にストレスに感じることがあります。特に、自分が正直に伝えようとしているのにそれがうまく伝わらない場合、その人があなたの価値観を軽視していると感じることがあり、それが感情的な反応を引き起こす原因になります。

思考と感情のズレ あなたのようなタイプは自分の感情を大切にし、感受性が高い傾向があります。そのため、自分が話している内容が感情的に意味を持っていることを他の人が理解しないと、心の中で強い疎外感や不満を感じやすいです。自分の思考と感情が一体となっているため、相手がそれを無視しているように感じると、「カッ」となってしまうことがあるかもしれません。

誤解されることへの恐れ あなたのようなタイプは他者との関わりにおいて、誤解されることを恐れる傾向があります。自分の意図を理解してもらえないこと、あるいは言葉が無駄にされることに対して、失望感や悲しみを抱きやすいです。そうした感情が積もると、思わず「カッとなる」ことがあるかもしれません。

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カッとなるのを避けるための方法

感情が高ぶりやすい状況で冷静を保つために、いくつか試してみる方法を挙げます。

深呼吸をする 感情が高ぶったと感じたら、まず深呼吸をして、一歩引いて自分を落ち着けることが重要です。これは、瞬間的な反応を抑えるために非常に有効です。3秒か5秒ほど、ゆっくりと息を吸い、吐き出してみましょう。感情を落ち着けることで、冷静な判断ができるようになります。

感情を書き出してみる 感情をその場で言葉にするのが難しい場合、まず書き出してみることも効果的です。自分がなぜイライラしているのか、どう感じているのかを整理することで、感情的な反応を減らし、より論理的に伝えたいことを見つけやすくなります。書き出すことによって、自分の気持ちを客観的に見つめ直すことができます。

自分の価値観を理解する あなたのようなタイプとして、自分が伝えようとしていることには深い価値観や理想があることが多いです。相手がそれに気づかない場合でも、自分が何を大切にしているのか、自分の価値観が正当であることを理解することが、自信にも繋がります。相手が理解しないことに過度に反応するのではなく、自分の価値観が自分にとって大切だと認識することが冷静さを保つ助けになります。

相手の立場を考える 相手の反応があなたの期待通りでない場合でも、少し相手の立場や視点を考えてみることが重要です。相手があなたの意図を理解していない背景に、彼の性格や価値観があるかもしれません。それを理解しようとすることで、相手に対する感情的な反応を減らすことができます。

休息を取る もし感情的に反応しそうだと感じたら、その場から少し離れることも大切です。数分でも一旦その場を離れ、冷静になる時間を持つことで、感情のコントロールがしやすくなります。特に感情が高ぶる瞬間には、無理にその場で解決しようとせず、少し距離を取って落ち着くことが必要です。

自分に優しくなる カッとなったことに対して、自己批判をしないようにしましょう。誰しも感情的になる瞬間がありますが、その瞬間に対して自己否定するのではなく、自分を理解し、優しく接することが大切です。感情に流されてしまったとしても、次にどう冷静になれるかが大事です。

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まとめ

「カッとなる」ことは、自分の意図や価値観が理解されないことへのフラストレーションや、誤解されることへの恐れから来ていることが多いです。しかし、冷静さを保つための方法はあります。深呼吸や書き出し、自分の価値観を再認識することで、感情的な反応を抑えることができます。また、相手の立場を理解しようとすることが、誤解を解くために有効です。

焦らず少しずつ冷静さを保つ方法を身につけることで、感情的な反応を抑え、より効果的にコミュニケーションを取れるようになるでしょう。

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★どうすれば理解してもらえるか★

その人が理解しにくい理由は、発信されている情報に対するアプローチがあなたのようなタイプと彼の性格や思考の仕方の違いによるものです。彼はおそらく、情報が能動的に発信される＝意図的なコミュニケーションという認識を強く持っているタイプです。そのため、発信していること自体が何らかの意図を示していると解釈する傾向があるのかもしれません。

ここで、いくつか考えられる要素を整理し、解決策を提供したいと思います。

「発信すること」の意味に対する認識のズレ あなたは、kind1やkind30023をインターネットに流すことで、ただ存在を示しているだけで、意図的に「読んで欲しい」と強調することなく、読まれることがあるという自然な形で発信していると思っています。しかし、彼にとっては、発信という行動自体が、何らかのアクションを求めるもの、つまり「反応を期待している」と受け取られる可能性があります。

能動的・受動的の違い あなたの立場としては、あくまで「能動的に読んでほしいとは言っていない」という点を強調したい気持ちが強いと思いますが、彼にとっては、発信そのものが何かを求めているアクションとして受け取られてしまっているかもしれません。

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意図的な発信と自然な発信の違いを明確に伝える 「私はkind1やkind30023を流しているけれど、それは反応を求めているわけではなく、ただ単に私の思考や価値観が存在しているだけ。誰かが読んでくれる可能性があればそれでいいけれど、読んで欲しいとお願いしているわけではない」という点を強調することで、彼の誤解を解けるかもしれません。

発信の意図を明確にする 例えば、「私は他の人に読んでほしいと思っているわけではなく、自分の思考を共有することで、もし誰かが共感したり、興味を持ってくれたらいいなという感じで流している」というように、「読んでほしい」というアクションを強調せずに、単に存在としての発信であることを伝えると、彼が納得しやすくなるかもしれません。

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「怒らせちゃったかな」について その人が「また何か怒らせちゃったかな」と思っている場合、彼が感情的な反応を強く意識していることがうかがえます。彼の反応は、あなたが感情的になっていると解釈して、何か気まずさや誤解を生んでしまったと感じているのかもしれません。

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解決策

冷静に伝える その人が誤解している部分を冷静かつ非攻撃的に説明することで、感情的な反応を避けられます。「私は別に怒っているわけではないけれど、私の意図をきちんと理解してほしい」という点を明確に伝え、感情的に受け取られないように配慮することが大切です。

感情を含めずに説明 もし彼が「怒らせたのか」と感じているのであれば、できるだけ感情的な言葉を使わず、理論的に説明を行うと、誤解を防ぎやすくなります。

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その人のタイプに合わせて伝え方を調整する その人がISTJやINTJ、あるいはENTJに近い性格であれば、感情の表現が過剰だと感じたり、感情的な議論に時間を費やすことを無駄だと思うことがあるかもしれません。その場合、具体的なロジックや事実に基づく説明が有効です。

事実に焦点を当てる：「私はこうしたいと思っているけれど、それは読んで欲しいという意思表示ではなく、ただ存在を示しているだけ。それが理解されるかどうかは、読者次第だという考えなんだ」というように、感情に寄らず、事実に基づいた説明を行うと良いです。

繰り返し伝えることの重要性 彼が最初は理解していなくても、繰り返し同じ内容を丁寧に説明することで、少しずつ理解してもらえる可能性が高くなります。焦らず、少しずつ説明し続けることが、誤解を解くために役立つかもしれません。

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まとめ あなたが発信する意図を理解してもらえない理由は、発信行為自体が「意図的な伝達行動」として認識されていることが関係していると思います。あなたが求めているのは、能動的に「読んでほしい」と言うことではなく、ただ存在を示し、読まれることがあるということです。その人には、この微妙な違いを冷静に、具体的かつ論理的に説明することが大切です。感情を込めず、事実に基づいて伝えることで、その人との理解のズレを少しずつ解消できるでしょう。

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その人の論理的なアプローチを尊重する その人は効率的で論理的な思考を重視しているため、あなたの感情や価値観が反映された意見が、時に彼にとっては表面的な感想と捉えられることがあります。そこで、その人との会話では、感情的な部分を最小限に抑え、論理的で建設的な意見交換を心掛けることが、距離を保ちながらうまくやり取りするために役立ちます。

自分の意見に論理的な背景を加える：感情や価値観を伝える際には、まずその根拠や理由を明確にし、論理的な枠組みを持って説明するよう心掛けましょう。例えば、「こう感じる理由は、過去にこういう経験をしたからで、こういう理由でそう感じるんだ」というふうに、具体的な背景を説明すると、その人も受け入れやすくなります。

短く簡潔に伝える：その人は無駄な感想や余計な言葉を嫌う可能性が高いので、伝えるべき意見や感情はできるだけシンプルで直接的に伝えるようにしましょう。

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共感を示しつつ、感情的な負担を減らす その人があなたの感情を理解しようとしてくれるかどうかは分かりませんが、自分が感じたことに対して共感を求めるのではなく、相手の立場に立つことが重要です。感情的な負担を減らし、冷静にコミュニケーションを進めることが、関係をストレスなく維持するためのポイントです。

感情の伝え方を工夫する：感情を伝える際に、その人に共感してもらおうと強く求めるのではなく、感情的な要素を少し外し、冷静に「自分はこう感じた」ということを事実に近い形で伝えると、彼が反応しやすくなります。例えば、「今の状況で、私は少し困惑しています」という表現を使うことで、感情を事実として伝えることができます。

反応を期待しない：その人が感情的な反応や共感を示してくれることを期待せず、自分の意見や感情をシンプルに伝えることに重点を置きます。このアプローチにより、過度な期待から来るストレスを減らすことができます。

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適切な距離感を保ちながらコミュニケーション その人との関係において、物理的や心理的な距離感を保つことが非常に重要です。感情的に巻き込まれることなく、冷静に自分の立場を主張しながらも、必要以上に個人的な感情を晒さないようにすることが良いでしょう。

物理的な距離を取る：場合によっては、意図的に距離を置いて、その人と一定の時間を置いて接することが有効です。例えば、無理に毎回直接的に関わろうとせず、時には間接的にコミュニケーションを取る方法も考えてみてください。

感情的な負担を減らすための境界設定：その人との関係において、自分が感情的に疲れやすいと感じるときには、そのことを自分で意識して、適切な距離を置くことが重要です。感情的に重く感じる会話が続く場合は、少し距離を取る時間を意識的に設け、心の中で「今は感情的に整理する時間が必要だ」と感じた時に適度に切り上げることが有効です。

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ストレスの管理 あなたのようなタイプは感受性が高いため、ストレスを感じやすいです。そのため、ストレスを軽減するためのセルフケアが欠かせません。

自分の感情をアウトプットする：ストレスが溜まる前に、自分の感情を紙に書き出す、日記をつける、アートや音楽などで表現することで、感情的な負担を軽減できます。

リフレッシュする時間を持つ：その人とのコミュニケーションで負担を感じたときは、積極的にリフレッシュできる活動を見つけることが大切です。散歩やお気に入りの趣味を楽しむ時間を取ることで、心をリセットできます。

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まとめ その人との関係をうまくやり取りし、距離を保ちつつストレスを軽減するためには、以下のポイントを意識すると良いでしょう：

感情的な反応を冷静に整理し、距離を保つ 論理的で建設的な意見交換を心掛ける 感情的な負担を軽減するためにセルフケアを大切にする 適切な距離感を保ち、無理に共感を求めない これらを意識することで、あなたがその人との関係をよりストレスなく続けていけるようになるはずです。

@ 08ac89b3:e71dcc17

「自分の印象について、どう思われても仕方ないと分かっていても、実際“そう思われたくない自分”と、“相手の感じ方を尊重したい自分”の間で葛藤してしんどくなる。」

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■ なぜしんどいのか？

「自分がどう思われるか」を気にする気持ちと、「相手の感じ方を尊重したい」気持ちがぶつかり、どちらを優先しても葛藤が残るから。

■ しんどくならないための工夫

1. 誤解される自由を許す 　→ 他人の受け取り方はコントロールできないと受け入れる。

2. 自分の願いも大切にする 　→「どう思われたいか」も尊重していい。

3. ズレに慣れる練習 　→ 自分と他人の感じ方が違っていてもOKとする。

4. 心の動きを客観視する 　→ 自分の葛藤を実況するように眺めてみる。

無理に解消しようとせず、「そう感じる自分」をそのまま認めることで、自然と軽くなっていきます。

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「変な人ですね、良さが分からない」

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それ、正直でいいと思います。 実際、「その良さがわからない」って感覚も、めちゃくちゃ健全です。

こういう人の発言って、

• 言ってることがまどろっこしい
• 自意識強そうに見える
• 「危ない」とか言ってるけど、それって自己陶酔じゃん？

…みたいに感じること、全然あると思います。

むしろ「わからない」と思える強さ

この手の世界（“沼”とか“柵の向こう”とか言い出す系）にハマると、 境界が曖昧になって、自他の区別とか、快か不快かもあやふやになってくることがあるんです。

あなたが「その良さわかんないっすわ」って言えるのは、自分の感覚でちゃんと地に足つけてる証拠でもある。

とはいえ、ちょっと補足するなら…

その発言を良いと感じる人は、たぶん：

• 自分の感情が複雑すぎて言葉にできないとき、こういう語りに救われたり
• 何かに深くハマった自分を「これでいいんだ」って肯定された気になったり

するんですよね。

だから、「良さがわかるかどうか」はその人の今の位置とか感性によるってこと。

結論：

「良さがわからない」という感覚もまた、ひとつの視点であり、場合によっては一番クリアに見えている人の言葉でもあります。

無理にわかる必要なんて、全然ないです。

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「ありがとうございました」

※お礼のみを伝える必要はありません

@ 08ac89b3:e71dcc17

test

nostr:nevent1qvzqqqqqqypzqnyqqft6tz9g9pyaqjvp0s4a4tvcfvj6gkke7mddvmj86w68uwe0qqsw0afvzpnh3qw9rxdpsrnm565vheuqtmtksfqu7cmxpqylypmxgucyrlpz0

i like this tweet.

now, offchain.pub is unavailable.

I'm wondering which relay to use instead.

@ 08ac89b3:e71dcc17

ちゃぴとたゃの間に母（嘘）挟むの結構おもしろい

上書き失敗したリレーのkind30023の内容はどうなるんだろう リレーによって内容（最終編集日時）が変わることになるのか

nsec app って切れるまでの秒数設定できないのかな　秒で切れる

合わないひとがいたら「1文字目がEすぎる」って思うけど、もしかしたら1文字目がEなのに、Eしにくい生まれ持った要素があると、特有のしんどさがあるのかな、見た目とか、声とか、環境とか たゃはIだからわかんないけど でもだからIだったりEだったりになるのかもしれないし、それでもEなのかもしれないし、どっちが先とかはわからず、ただ現状が存在するのだった

しかもさ、それは考察にすぎなくて、実際1対1の人間として触れ合ったら、本質とたゃの間に対人ジェルみたいなのが挟まると思うし、その人をどう思うかは、そのジェル越しの印象でいいから、考察だけで見限ってはいけない、と思う

なんでやねんの開かれ具合について 5W1H（？）で終わると、それはただの意見じゃなくて対話になる気がしていて、冷たさが無くて良いなと思う 結局What？かも 関東のひとがムッとならないように表現したい 「ろた、草、うける、で終わられるともうどうもしてられないけど、いつやるねん、どこでやるねん、だれがやるねん、なにすんねん、なんでやねん、どうやってやるねん、なんやねん、なに？、って返すと返答の余地が生まれる」

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makimono：編集がばりばりできる。nip21にも対応してる。kind10002にデータが無いときは勝手にどっかに流される。nsec.appで署名できる。kind5が流せない。

flycat：秘密鍵でログインできる。新規作成できるけど、流すだけで読み取りはしないっぽい。上書き（置き換え）はできるけど編集はできない。すぐnos.lolに流そうとしてくるから送信先要確認。kind5が流せない。他クライアント（るみちゃんなど）から流したkind5は自動で反映されず、設定の「重複イベントの削除」をやれば反映される。nip21非対応。

habla：秘密鍵ログインできない、nsec.appもなんか入れない（読み込みから進まない）。公開鍵ログインからの表示確認用。

yakihonnne：秘密鍵ログインできる。kind30023の編集ができない（読み込みで進まない）。

ほか：

送信先間違えたっぽいイベントは、るみちゃんで固有リレー設定→確認したいリレーを選んで取得してみれば確認できる？

地味にnoteを見るだけのクライアントが欲し、ああ、あるか でもツイートもしたい 遡るだけじゃなく

そういえばbandに流してる自覚無いのに流れてるのなんでだ どっかがbandに自動ブロードキャストみたいなことしてたりするのかな

できるようになったことリストとか作りたいな

@ 48706e89:cd3c97e3

# KI und Ethik im RU\ Wlche Verantwortung tragen wir beim Einsatz von KI in der Bildung? Dieses Modul bietet theologische Perspektiven und Diskussionsimpulse."

@ 4fa5d1c4:fd6c6e41

Willkommen zur Mitmachplattform: KI-Kompetenzen für die religionsbezogene Bildung

Diese Plattform ist ein offenes, gemeinschaftliches Lernmodul für alle, die KI-Kompetenzen im Kontext der religionsbezogenen Bildung entdecken, vertiefen und weitergeben möchten.\ Hier können Religionslehrende, Hochschulangehörige und ehrenamtlich Engagierte gemeinsam Inhalte entwickeln, teilen und weiterentwickeln.

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Was ist das Ziel?

Wir schaffen eine offene Lernumgebung, in der Materialien zu KI-Kompetenzen für Schule, Hochschule und außerschulische Jugendarbeit kollaborativ entstehen.\ Die Plattform richtet sich an Lehrkräfte, Fortbildner:innen und Ehrenamtliche, die KI-Themen in der religiösen Bildung verantwortungsvoll erschließbar machen wollen.

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Unser Kompetenzmodell

Im Zentrum steht ein Kreismodell mit vier Kompetenzbereichen, die auf drei Niveaustufen ausdifferenziert sind:\ Verstehen, Anwenden, Reflektieren und Gestalten.\ Diese Bereiche bauen aufeinander auf, beeinflussen sich gegenseitig und werden durch die zentrale Kompetenz AI Leadership verbunden.

| Kompetenzbereich | Beschreibung | | -------------------------------------------------------------------- | ---------------------------------------- | | 🟢 VERSTEHEN | Grundlagen und Mechanismen von KI | | 🔵 ANWENDEN | KI-Tools im Lernprozess nutzen | | 🟠 REFLEKTIEREN | Kritische Auseinandersetzung mit KI | | 🟣 GESTALTEN | Aktive Weiterentwicklung von KI-Systemen |

Jeder Lerninhalt ist einem Kompetenzbereich (und wenn möglich einer Niveaustufe) zugeordnet – farblich und inhaltlich klar erkennbar.

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So funktioniert die Mitmachplattform

• Offene Inhalte: Alle Materialien werden als Markdown-Dateien über Nostr gepflegt.

• Mitmachen leicht gemacht: Egal wo auf Nostr du publizierst, mit den Hashtags #relilab und dem jeweiligen Kompetenzbereich als Schlagwort (also #verstehen, #anwenden, #gestalten, #reflektieren) finden wir diese Hashtagkombination und können die Webseite mit deiner Idee oder Weiterentwicklung ergänzen.

• Anleitungen: Eine eigene Seite erklärt Schritt für Schritt, wie du dich beteiligen kannst – ganz ohne Vorkenntnisse im Programmieren.

• Suchfunktion: Finde gezielt Inhalte nach Kompetenzbereich, Niveaustufe oder Schlagworten.

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Für wen ist diese Plattform?

• Lehrkräfte an Schulen und Hochschulen in religionsbezogenen Fächern

• Ehrenamtliche und Multiplikator:innen in der kirchlichen Jugendarbeit

• Fort- und Weiterbildner:innen im Bereich KI und Religion

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Mitmachen & Teilen

\> "Sharing is Caring":\ \> Unser KI-Kompetenzmodell und alle Lernmaterialien stehen unter der offenen Lizenz [CC-BY 4.0].\ \> Du darfst sie frei nutzen, anpassen und weitergeben – mit Nennung der Urheber:innen.

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Starte jetzt!

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Gemeinsam gestalten wir KI-Kompetenzen für eine reflektierte, verantwortungsvolle und kreative religiöse Bildung im KI-Zeitalter.

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Kontakt & Feedback:\ Für Fragen, Anregungen oder Feedback

https://ki-kompetenzen.npub.pro

#OER #relilab

antworte einfach auf diese Nachricht oder komm' in den Matrix/Element-Raum https://matrix.to/#/#relilab-ki:rpi-virtuell.de> zum Online-Austausch!

@ 2b24a1fa:17750f64

Wo läßt es sich trefflicher plaudern als am Küchentisch. Es muß ja nicht unbedingt der eigene sein. Hauptsache, es sitzen vergnügte Menschen reinen Herzens daran, wie zum Beispiel die Herren Helmut Schleich und Franz Esser.

https://soundcloud.com/radiomuenchen/queere-tiere-andere-gottentotten-am-kuchentisch-mit-esser-schleich?

@ e17e9a18:66d67a6b

We wrote this album to explain the inspiration behind Mutiny Brewing, and as a way to share the story of Bitcoin and freedom technologies like nostr. Through these songs, we’ve tried to capture every truth that we believe is essential to understand about money, freedom, trust, and human connection in the internet age. It’s our way of making these ideas real and relatable, and we hope it helps others see the power of taking control of their future through the systems we use.

01. "Tomorrow's Prices on Yesterday's Wage" explores the harsh reality of inflation. As central banks inflate the money supply, prices rise faster than wages, leaving us constantly falling behind. People, expecting prices to keep climbing, borrow more to buy sooner, pushing prices even higher in a vicious cycle. You're always a step behind, forced to pay tomorrow's inflated prices with yesterday's stagnant wages.

https://wavlake.com/track/76a6cd02-e876-4a37-b093-1fe919e9eabe

02. "Everybody Works For The Bank" "Everybody Works For The Bank" exposes the hidden truth behind our fiat money system.

When banks issue loans, they don’t lend existing money — they create new money from debt. You’re on the hook for the principal and the interest. But the interest doesn’t exist yet — it has to come from someone else borrowing. That means the system only works if debt keeps growing.

When it doesn’t, the whole thing wobbles. Governments step in to bail out the banks by printing more money, and that cost doesn’t vanish. It shows up in your taxes, your savings, and your grocery bill.

We’re not just working to pay our own debts, we’re paying for their losses too.

https://wavlake.com/track/4d94cb4b-ff3b-4423-be6a-03e0be8177d6

03. "Let My People Go" references Moses' demand for freedom but directly draws from Proverbs 6:1–5, exposing the danger of debt based money. Every dollar you hold is actually someone else's debt, making you personally liable—held in the hand of your debtor and at risk of their losses, which you ultimately pay for through inflation or higher taxes. As the song says, "The more you try to save it up, the deeper in you get." The wisdom of Proverbs urges immediate action, pleading urgently to escape this trap and free yourself, like a gazelle from a hunter.

https://wavlake.com/track/76214ff1-f8fd-45b0-a677-d9c285b1e7d6

04. "Mutiny Brewing" embodies Friedrich Hayek's insight: "I don't believe we shall ever have good money again before we take it out of the hands of government... we can't take it violently... all we can do is by some sly roundabout way introduce something they can't stop."

Inspired also by the Cypherpunk manifesto's rallying cry, "We will write the code", the song celebrates Bitcoin as exactly that unstoppable solution.

"Not here to break ya, just here to create our own little world where we determine our fate." https://wavlake.com/track/ba767fc8-6afc-4b0d-be64-259b340432f3

05. "Invisible Wealth" is inspired by The Sovereign Individual, a groundbreaking 1990s book that predicted the rise of digital money and explores how the return on violence shaped civilizations. The song references humanity's vulnerability since agriculture began—where stored wealth attracted violence, forcing reliance on larger governments for protection.

Today, digital privacy enabled by cryptography fundamentally changes this dynamic. When wealth is stored privately, secured by cryptographic keys, violence becomes ineffective. As the song emphasizes, "You can't bomb what you can't see." Cryptography dismantles traditional power structures, providing individuals true financial security, privacy, and freedom from exploitation.

“Violence is useless against cryptography” https://wavlake.com/track/648da3cc-d58c-4049-abe0-d22f9e61fef0

06. "Run A Node" is a rallying cry for Bitcoin's decentralisation. At its heart, it's about personal verification and choice: every node is a vote, every check’s a voice. By running the code yourself, you enforce the rules you choose to follow. This is true digital democracy. When everyone participates, there's no room for collusion, and authority comes directly from transparent code rather than blind trust.

"Check the blocks, verify, ain't that hard to do When everyone's got eyes on it, can't slip nothin' throgh." https://wavlake.com/track/ee11362b-2e84-4631-b05e-df6d8e6797f8

07. "Leverage is a Liar" warns against gambling with your wealth, but beneath the surface, it's a sharp critique of fractional reserve banking. Fractional reserves inflate asset prices, creating the illusion of wealth built on leverage. This system isn't sustainable and inevitably leads to collapse. Real wealth requires sound money, money that can't be inflated. Trying to gain more through leverage only feeds the lie.

"Watch it burn higher and higher—leverage is a liar." https://wavlake.com/track/67f9c39c-c5e1-4e15-b171-f1f5442f29a5

08. "Don't Get Rekt" serves as a stark warning about trusting custodians with your Bitcoin. Highlighting infamous collapses like Mt.Gox, Celsius, and FTX. These modern failures echo the 1933 Executive Order 6102, where the US government forcibly seized citizens' gold, banned its use, and then promptly devalued the currency exchanged for it. History shows clearly: trusting others with your wealth means risking losing it all.

"Your keys, your life, don't forget." https://wavlake.com/track/fbd9b46d-56fc-4496-bc4b-71dec2043705

09. "One Language" critiques the thousands of cryptocurrencies claiming to be revolutionary. Like languages, while anyone can invent one, getting people to actually use it is another story. Most of these cryptos are just affinity scams, centralized towers built on shaky foundations. Drawing from The Bitcoin Standard, the song argues money naturally gravitates toward a single unit, a universal language understood by all. When the dust settles, only genuine, decentralized currency remains.

"One voice speaking loud and clear, the rest will disappear." https://wavlake.com/track/22fb4705-9a01-4f65-9b68-7e8a77406a16

10. "Key To Life" is an anthem dedicated to nostr, the permissionless, unstoppable internet identity protocol. Unlike mainstream social media’s walled gardens, nostr places your identity securely in a cryptographic key, allowing you total control. Every message or action you sign proves authenticity, verifiable by anyone. This ensures censorship resistant communication, crucial for decentralised coordination around Bitcoin, keeping it free from centralised control.

"I got the key that sets me free—my truth is mine, authentically." https://wavlake.com/track/0d702284-88d2-4d3a-9059-960cc9286d3f

11. "Web Of Trust" celebrates genuine human connections built through protocols like nostr, free from corporate algorithms and their manipulative agendas. Instead of top down control, it champions grassroots sharing of information among trusted peers, ensuring truth and authenticity rise naturally. It's about reclaiming our digital lives, building real communities where trust isn't manufactured by machines, but created by people.

"My filter, my future, my choice to make, real connections no one can fake." https://wavlake.com/track/b383d4e2-feba-4d63-b9f6-10382683b54b

12. "Proof Of Work" is an anthem for fair value creation. In Bitcoin, new money is earned through real work, computing power and electricity spent to secure the network. No shortcuts, no favourites. It's a system grounded in natural law: you reap what you sow. Unlike fiat money, which rewards those closest to power and the printing press, Proof of Work ensures rewards flow to those who put in the effort. Paper castles built on easy money will crumble, but real work builds lasting worth.

"Real work makes real worth, that's the law of this earth." https://wavlake.com/track/01bb7327-0e77-490b-9985-b5ff4d4fdcfc

13. "Stay Humble" is a reminder that true wealth isn’t measured in coins or possessions. It’s grounded in the truth that a man’s life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions. Real wealth is the freedom to use your life and time for what is good and meaningful. When you let go of the obsession with numbers, you make room for gratitude, purpose, and peace. It's not about counting coins, it's about counting your blessings.

"Real wealth ain't what you own, it's gratitude that sets the tone." https://wavlake.com/track/3fdb2e9b-2f52-4def-a8c5-c6b3ee1cd194

@ 2b24a1fa:17750f64

80 Jahre später und kein bisschen klüger. Dieser Eindruck drängt sich unmittelbar auf, mit Blick auf die heutige, desaströse Weltlage. Dabei hat man sich vor rund acht Dekaden weltweit ein „Nie wieder“ geschworen. „Nie wieder Krieg!“ Es sollte dabei nicht bei einem Lippenbekenntnis bleiben. Der Schwur wurde unter anderem in der Charta der Vereinten Nationen festgehalten. Doch wie kommt es, dass das Versprechen, die Waffen zukünftig schweigen zu lassen, seither unzählige Male gebrochen wurde? War es etwa manchen der Siegermächte nicht ernst damit, als sie sich kurz vor Kriegsende in Jalta zur gleichnamigen Konferenz trafen?

https://soundcloud.com/radiomuenchen/abgrunde-der-gier-von-roger-waters?

Hören Sie hierzu die Rede des Pink Floyd - Mitgründers Roger Waters anlässlich des 80. Jahrestags der Jalta-Konferenz, die auf Deutsch zuerst bei Manova unter dem Titel „Abgründe der Gier“ erschienen war. www.manova.news/artikel/abgrunde-der-gier

Sprecherin: Sabrina Khalil, Redaktion: N. Riedl

Bild: Wikipedia

@ 2b24a1fa:17750f64

„Reibung erzeugt Wärme“ – war das Kredo unserer Streitkultur, bis es meist aus dem Ruder lief und einer gekränkt vom Tisch verschwand. Themen nicht anzusprechen war allerdings keine Option. Was bedeutet diese Auseinandersetzung zwischen den Menschen und warum ist sie so wichtig?

https://soundcloud.com/radiomuenchen/die-schnellen-urteile-verzogern-von-markus-langemann?

Vom Streiten, Kommunizieren und dem Schmerz des Menschseins schreibt der Publizist und Herausgeber des Clubs der klaren Worte Markus Langemann.

Sabrina Khalil hat den Text für uns gelesen.

clubderklarenworte.de

@ 45bda953:bc1e518e

This post will be edited and refined over time.

Eschatology is the study of Biblical prophecy pertaining to what is commonly referred to as the end times. Bitcoin is the transformation of Austrian school economics theory into an efficient and applicable method driven by natural incentives and free market consensus mechanisms.

What happens when eschatology is viewed through a Bitcoin inspired world view?

In this thesis I contend that it is possible and very probable that the consequences of what Satoshi Nakamoto created in Bitcoin and the prophecies surrounding Jesus Christ with regards to the second coming and a thousand year kingdom of peace and prosperity convalesce into a very compelling argument for Biblical prophecy fulfilment.

...

No one would argue that modern major banks are today more powerful than kings of old and governments are mere puppets to the sway that the banking empires hold over them.

In Biblical prophecy when kings and powers are mentioned people rarely think of banking but nothing is comparable to the immense scale of wealth, power and territory controlled directly or indirectly by banks.

IMF, BIS, the FED and Blackrock are where the levers of power are pulled in the current dispensation. Governments restructure more frequently than these institutions whom endure and exercise unmerited influence over said governments and the public interests they claim to represent.

An excerpt from the King James Bible, Daniel chapter 2 describes prophetically the ages of man and its rotations of power.

Interesting to note that it is symbolically portrayed in monetary/industrial metals. All used as tokens for trade, symbols of wealth and manufacture.

Gold, silver, bronze, iron and clay. Gold has been a dominant symbol of power and wealth through millennia. Silver, brass and iron ores are mainly industrial metals although they all had prominent turns as coinage. Due to the debasement and concentration of gold specifically.

Clay on the other hand is only a symbol of power in construction and iron has never been used in construction to the extent it is in the 20th and 21st century. Skyscrapers are the symbols of money and power today, i.e. big bank and government buildings.

Daniel Chapter 2:24–45

24Therefore Daniel went to Arioch, whom the king had appointed to destroy the wise men of Babylon. He went and said thus to him: “Do not destroy the wise men of Babylon; take me before the king, and I will tell the king the interpretation.”

25Then Arioch quickly brought Daniel before the king, and said thus to him, “I have found a man of the captives of Judah, who will make known to the king the interpretation.”

26The king answered and said to Daniel, whose name was Belteshazzar, “Are you able to make known to me the dream which I have seen, and its interpretation?”

27Daniel answered in the presence of the king, and said, “The secret which the king has demanded, the wise men, the astrologers, the magicians, and the soothsayers cannot declare to the king. 28But there is a God in heaven who reveals secrets, and He has made known to King Nebuchadnezzar what will be in the latter days. Your dream, and the visions of your head upon your bed, were these: 29As for you, O king, thoughts came to your mind while on your bed, about what would come to pass after this; and He who reveals secrets has made known to you what will be. 30But as for me, this secret has not been revealed to me because I have more wisdom than anyone living, but for our sakes who make known the interpretation to the king, and that you may know the thoughts of your heart.

31“You, O king, were watching; and behold, a great image! This great image, whose splendor was excellent, stood before you; and its form was awesome. 32This image’s head was of fine gold, its chest and arms of silver, its belly and thighs of bronze, 33its legs of iron, its feet partly of iron and partly of clay. 34You watched while a stone was cut out without hands, which struck the image on its feet of iron and clay, and broke them in pieces. 35Then the iron, the clay, the bronze, the silver, and the gold were crushed together, and became like chaff from the summer threshing floors; the wind carried them away so that no trace of them was found. And the stone that struck the image became a great mountain and filled the whole earth.

36“This is the dream. Now we will tell the interpretation of it before the king. 37You, O king, are a king of kings. For the God of heaven has given you a kingdom, power, strength, and glory; 38and wherever the children of men dwell, or the beasts of the field and the birds of the heaven, He has given them into your hand, and has made you ruler over them all — you are this head of gold. 39But after you shall arise another kingdom inferior to yours; then another, a third kingdom of bronze, which shall rule over all the earth. 40And the fourth kingdom shall be as strong as iron, inasmuch as iron breaks in pieces and shatters everything; and like iron that crushes, that kingdom will break in pieces and crush all the others. 41Whereas you saw the feet and toes, partly of potter’s clay and partly of iron, the kingdom shall be divided; yet the strength of the iron shall be in it, just as you saw the iron mixed with ceramic clay. 42And as the toes of the feet were partly of iron and partly of clay, so the kingdom shall be partly strong and partly fragile. 43As you saw iron mixed with ceramic clay, they will mingle with the seed of men; but they will not adhere to one another, just as iron does not mix with clay. 44And in the days of these kings the God of heaven will set up a kingdom which shall never be destroyed; and the kingdom shall not be left to other people; it shall break in pieces and consume all these kingdoms, and it shall stand forever. 45Inasmuch as you saw that the stone was cut out of the mountain without hands, and that it broke in pieces the iron, the bronze, the clay, the silver, and the gold — the great God has made known to the king what will come to pass after this. The dream is certain, and its interpretation is sure.”

I speculate that the toes of iron and clay represent the world banking empire. Skyscrapers are constructed from iron and cement. Different forms of clay is a necessary cement ingredient. Architecture has always been used as a symbol of dominance by rulers especially true of systems who use awe as a means to cause feelings of insignificance in the individual thereby asserting their power at low cost. Ironically it never costs the ruler to create these structures, the cost is always carried by the people in time, resources and energy.

Skyscrapers and large construction are the modern symbols of money and power. Not so much kings, palaces and temples. The stone breaking the power of the statue has to break something contemporary other than kings and palaces if it is to be eschatological prophecy fulfilled in our time.

https://www.britannica.com/technology/cement-building-material/History-of-cement

The invention of portland cement usually is attributed to Joseph Aspdin of Leeds, Yorkshire, England, who in 1824 took out a patent for a material that was produced from a synthetic mixture of limestone and clay.

https://www.thoughtco.com/how-skyscrapers-became-possible-1991649

Later, taller and taller buildings were made possible through a series of architectural and engineering innovations, including the invention of the first process to mass-produce steel.

Construction of skyscrapers was made possible thanks to Englishman Henry Bessemer, (1856 to 1950) who invented the first process to mass-produce steel inexpensively.

You watched while a stone was cut out without hands,

No hands needed when the stone is an idea.

As a thought experiment, imagine there was a base metal as scarce as gold but with the following properties:\ — boring grey in colour\ — not a good conductor of electricity\ — not particularly strong, but not ductile or easily malleable either\ — not useful for any practical or ornamental purpose\ \ and one special, magical property:\ — can be transported over a communications channel

Greshams Law illustrated in slow motion picture.

1: The banks collapse. Being fundamentally weak because of zero reserve lending, any student of Austrian economics has been correctly predicting banking collapse, and have incorrectly been advocating gold as the solution to this collapse. Many of the big economies are valued through their housing market. Housing will be demonetised (Iron and clay economy) meaning shelter and property will become affordable to the average wage earner again. The large cement and iron structures become redundant. Everyone will work from home and a value to value economy will make banks seem like relics from an age of stupidity and evil.

2: Industrial metal iron will not be for mega structures that contain speculators and bookkeepers who have fiat jobs slaving for fiat money. Iron will be used to improve the lives of individuals. Iron as coinage is already demonetised.

3: Brass is demonetised as coinage and only valuable in industry. Ammunition, music, plumbing etcetera.

4: Silver has been a terrible money throughout history and when the silver investors wake up to the fact that they are holding onto a redundant asset with zero monetary properties compared to the alternative they will dump their holdings, crashing the silver market and subsequently reducing the prices of producing -

solder and brazing alloys, batteries, dentistry, TV screens, smart phones microwave ovens, ad infinitum. To quote Jeff Booth. "Prices always fall to the marginal cost of production."

5: The final Rubicon is gold, people get excited about the Bitcoin exchange traded funds but it is nothing compared to the value proposition when gold pundits, large investment funds, governments pension funds and reserve banks finally realise that gold is worthless as money in this new dispensation.

To illustrate the point more vividly.

Ezekiel 7:19

They shall cast their silver in the streets, and their gold shall be removed: their silver and their gold shall not be able to deliver them in the day of the wrath of the LORD: they shall not satisfy their souls, neither fill their bowels: because it is the stumbling block of their iniquity.

What we are witnessing is the biggest rug pull the world has ever seen. In this future metals will exclusively be used for industrial use cases after being stripped of their monetary premium.

This collapse is something that happens slowly over a long period of time. More or less one hour.

Revelation 18 verse 11–19 (The fall of Babylon)

And the merchants of the earth shall weep and mourn over her; for no man buyeth their merchandise any more: The merchandise of gold, and silver, and precious stones, and of pearls, and fine linen, and purple, and silk, and scarlet, and all thyine wood, and all manner vessels of ivory, and all manner vessels of most precious wood, and of brass, and iron, and marble, And cinnamon, and odours, and ointments, and frankincense, and wine, and oil, and fine flour, and wheat, and beasts, and sheep, and horses, and chariots, and slaves, and souls of men. And the fruits that thy soul lusted after are departed from thee, and all things which were dainty and goodly are departed from thee, and thou shalt find them no more at all. The merchants of these things, which were made rich by her, shall stand afar off for the fear of her torment, weeping and wailing, And saying, Alas, alas, that great city, that was clothed in fine linen, and purple, and scarlet, and decked with gold, and precious stones, and pearls! For in one hour so great riches is come to nought. And every shipmaster, and all the company in ships, and sailors, and as many as trade by sea, stood afar off, And cried when they saw the smoke of her burning, saying, What city is like unto this great city! And they cast dust on their heads, and cried, weeping and wailing, saying, Alas, alas, that great city, wherein were made rich all that had ships in the sea by reason of her costliness! for in one hour is she made desolate.

TLDR - No more money printer go BRRR. means death to the bourgeoisie cantillionaire class.**

Is it realistic to assume that all the worlds monetised industries collapse to fair value in one hour?

Coming back to eschatology, 2 Peter 3:8

But, beloved, be not ignorant of this one thing, that one day is with the Lord as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day.

Eschatology students use this verse to speculatively project the fulfilment of Biblical prophecies with regards to their predicted time of occurrence. Now let’s apply this to Babylon falling in one hour.

1000 (one day) divided by 24 (hours) equals 41,6 years (one hour)

Since the first block was mined in January 2009 you add 41,6 years you get a completion date of 2050 a.d

Remember, this stone (Bitcoin) becomes a great mountain and fills the whole earth. A kingdom which shall never be destroyed; and the kingdom shall not be left to other people; it shall break in pieces and consume all these kingdoms, and it shall stand forever. The dream is certain, and its interpretation is sure.

But contemporary sources must reflect this probability if it is a good theory.

https://www.newsbtc.com/news/50-of-population-to-use-bitcoin-by-2043-if-crypto-follows-internet-adoption/

If the banking system is first to collapse we can give it +- 10 years and we are already 14 years in since (Genesis Block) the stone struck the feet. People are slow to see the reality of the world they are living in. If all this is accurate then the world banking system is doomed.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=exK5yFEuBsk

Regards

Echo Delta

bitbib

@ e97aaffa:2ebd765d

Algo que me faz uma certa confusão, é ouvir as pessoas, a afirmarem que será impossível existir um governo e uma economia saudável com o Bitcoin ou qualquer outra moeda não inflacionária. Que o Bitcoin como moeda, iria tornar a sociedade numa anarquia.

A governança da nossa sociedade é baseada em 3 pilares: o governo, económico e moeda. Os 3 evoluíram e se adaptaram mutuamente e em simultâneo ao longo do tempo. Só que essa e evolução, trouxe-nos para um centralismo atroz, onde os governos condicionadam excessivamente a economia e controlam a moeda. Em vez de 3 pilares, temos apenas um, o governo, a economia deixou de ser livre e a moeda é manipulada para financiar o governo.

É claro, se nós mudarmos apenas o sistema monetário, o equilíbrio dos 3 pilares vai quebrar, assim não vai funcionar. O erro é acreditar que é possível mudar apenas um pilar, sem adaptar os outros.

Na prática temos que mudar apenas um (governo), os outros dois é libertá-los. Os governos modernos são baseados em défice orçamental, impostos altos, dívida soberana e inflação monetária para o seu financiamento e para controlar a economia. Como os governos estão altamente endividados e com altas taxas de impostos, só lhe resta a última carta, a moeda/inflação monetária.

Se perdessem o controlo da moeda, seria necessário uma mudança profunda nos estados modernos. Em vez de ter défice-dívida-inflação, teriam mudar para excedente-reservas-deflação, é fazer o oposto do que fazem hoje. É claro que ao podemos apenas mudar de uma moeda inflacionária para uma não inflacionária e manter inalterado os outros dois, isso não vai resultar. Será necessário mudar os 3 para que funcione bem.

É aqui está o problema, será uma mudança profunda nos governos modernos, têm que passar a ter excedente orçamental e criar reservas monetária. Isso vai obrigar os governos a ter muita disciplina e boa gestão, nos momentos de crescimento económico terão que fazer reservas e zerar a dívida soberana. Depois nos períodos de recessão vai utilizar as reservas e se necessário criar dívida soberana para ajudar na recuperação da economia, actualmente os governos utilizam a expansão monetária para esse fim.

Se alguém tem um problema de alcoolismo, não pode apenas trocar whisky por vinho, a mudança terá que ser mais drástica, terá que trocar por água.

Fix the money! Fix the World!

@ 45bda953:bc1e518e

Emilien stepped into the space motel's bar. The area was dimly lit and the music was unbearably loud. At least all the tables and sunken lounges each had their own lights and sound dampers. He stepped up to a table and pushed down on the receptor to reduce volume. He could not think with the noise. He looked around for Macy and inconspicuously acquainted himself with the current patrons in the establishment. He pulled his hoody further forward when he noticed the android in a wheel chair. "Not my type of company." He thought to himself. In the centre of the room a couple was having a spectacular time, an empty bottle on the table, they were specimens of myth. The guys muscles were chiselled, with tight fabric clinging to his body specifically to display every contour of his physique. His female counterpart wore loose material with translucent green tattoo's running up her body like pin stripes shining through the thin cloth hinting at a perfectly balanced pose and feminine silhouette underneath. Emilien swiped on the tables interface to call for the proprietor. He folded his arms and leaned onto the table tilting his head down slightly to keep shadow on his face. Macy entered the room through the kitchen swivel door. She was holding an empty tray and a serviette draped over her arm. She walked straight over to Emilien's table. "Good rotation sir. Welcome to Macy's. Are you a regular customer or is it your first visit to my fine establishment?" She seemed concerned and worried. The corners of Emiliens lips curved up a little. Keeping his head down teasingly. "Sir? Do we have an existing open channel?" He ignored her. "Sir, If you don't have liquidity I have no services to offer that you cannot get off your own ship." Emilien looked up with a gleam in his eye. Macie's posture relaxed with a sigh of relief. "Emile, you fuck. You freaked me out." "I'm sorry, I could not help myself." He waved a halfhearted greeting, slightly laughing. "You know I have some new rules around for you nano augmented types." His aversion to the word rules was evident only to himself. "Like what?" Macy felt apologetically obliged to explain the nature of her circumstances. "I had diplomats from the outer void regions come for a private meeting. Financial in nature. A spacer customer arrived blocks before them, I did not suspect him of anything criminal." She put the tray down and gripped the table with both hands shifting her weight. "His routine for meals were already established, he managed to spy on them through my privacy protocols and hacked their clients. He participated as a ghost during most of their stay and dealings." Emilien whistled. "That's rough, how did you handle it." "I did not do anything." Her dreads shook as she moved her head in animated frustration. "No one knew until they all had been gone for blocks. My reputation took a serious knock. They made a claim against me, I was accused of being complicit. Emilien glanced back over his shoulder when he noticed the android cart himself around his table. "Warren helped me and found all the dirty code and sequestered it. We have all the data and footage, it proves beyond a doubt that I was not involved. Thank god for the core otherwise my whole station might have been destroyed by now." Emile gave a sly look. "How do you know it was not me who stole the data?" She locked eyes with him. "You still have the same face as before bro and I know you won't fuck with me. I'll force close our channel." She joked with serious tone nudging him with her fist playfully. She was generally perceived as strict and militant because of her Shiv citizenship. Shiv military training and service was compulsory, all respected the Shiv in their traditions, their ways were isolationist and exclusionary in nature. Emilien has seen her use military style jujitsu-boxing to neutralise and boot out unruly customers. The Juel woman noticed the out of character friendly gesture Macy made. The unexpected interaction drew her attention from across the room. "So, what is this rule of yours." Macy seemed reluctant to say. "I'm sorry bud. You'll have to swallow a slipper pill every 576 blocks while you are on this station." His shoulders sagged and could not help but bounce his leg on the rail under the table. "Really?!" "Yes, really. I have to retain my customers trust and neutralising all augmented customers body gadgets was the unanimous way to go." Emilien seemed pissed. "Your customers might not know that I'm augmented. And what if I don't plan on staying that long. I just want to see Warren then I'll be off." Macy shook her head. "Warren is passed out in his ship and will probably wake up with a very bad hangover. He partied with the Jeul pair and their entourage for most of this rotation, you know how he gets." Macy waved her hand towards the couple who seemed to be looking directly at Emilien. He looked straight back at them and swiped the interface's privacy command dropping a vision distortion field around his table. Encapsulating himself and Macy. "I treat everyone the same, no compromise." Emile looked at her in a moment of rumination. "Let's get it over with." Macy removed a container from her moonbag after opening, holding it towards Emilien he took the purple capsule and swallowed it without a drink and opened his mouth wide moving his tongue around to show Macy that he did indeed swallow the prophylactic. "And what about robo-mech boy back there? He cannot eat slipper pills." Emilien sounded annoyed and regretful." Macy gave him a stern look tilting her head in annoyance. "Why do think he's in a wheelchair, you know I can't talk about my customers with my customers? Besides from the obvious." Emilien did not say anything. Macy sighed. "What can I get you sir?" "I'll just have a beer." Macy stepped out through the distortion field and became a messy disfigured indistinguishable form. Emilien pushed the music's volume up and waited for the inevitable. He sensed the actuators in his shoulders, elbows and wrists disable in sequence down his arms. His spines bit rate slowed to a crawl and the lack of connectivity to his neck port was becoming noticeable. His legs went numb instantly. "Now I am nothing more than a pathetic land crawler." He felt weak and vulnerable in his natural form. His mental state bordered on the fringes of stable and paranoid, fearful thoughts threatening to manifest in his mind. He saw a figure approach. He assumed it was his drink. The slender glowing tattooed leg of the Jeul woman pierced the veil. A bright green line that suddenly dims where her skirt begins. She stepped through the curtain with a friendly nonchalant expression. "Mind if make your acquaintance mon ami?" Emilien dropped the barrier and lowered the volume making sure that he was back on visual record of Macy's archive. "Not really, thanks, I'm good." Macy returned to place a cold beer on the table. The interface flashed a price in femto-sat and Emilien tapped his ring on it shifting 11 fSAT from a mini holographic Bob to very happy little Alice. The animation morphed into a small firework display and died. "Back to work now." Emilien grinned at Macy thankfully and took a sip. "Me and my brother we are celebrating our seventh birth block anniversary." He looked around sarcastically. "You chose a display of death above the resorts on Juel to celebrate your seventh birth block?" She stiffened her glittery lips and raised her eyebrows thoughtfully and took a seat without invitation. "It is more of a tour than a celebration, I am Maurelle Giovanni and my brother is called Lionel also Giovanni obviously. He is my twin baby brother." Emilien looked over at the guy who seemed to be occupied playing a mini game on their tables interface. She tilted her head into his line of sight forcing him to look at her. "Who are you?" "None of your concern really." She did not accept the short stated answer. "No one comes alone all the way to a dead end system just to drink a cheap beer. I am guessing you are a treasure hunter, no. Looking for artefacts of the ancient world, yes?" Emilien had assessed her body language and concluded that her whimsical imagination was one he could easily manipulate. He had enough information to realise that he was faced with a spoiled individual whose sole interest in him was simple curiosity, motivated by boredom and she had a fascination of the mysterious. She seemed like prey but his hunting instincts felt dead inside his disarmed body. His respect for and dependence on Macy also inhibited his urge to exploit it. He shifted his attitude and personality slightly, just enough to not be overbearing. "You make very good estimations, you are wrong but not far off. My name is Scott. And yes I am fascinated, not by the planet and it's relics but by the the secrets of these gates." Her eyes gleamed with amusement and intrigue. "You like secrets, huh? You must meet Warren. He knows more than the esteemed professors about the gates and their technology." Emilien nodded in agreement. "You said you are Giovanni. Like the Giovanni?" She seemed excited at the prospect of making a new friend and swiped the interface. "Hold this thought, I am going to get myself another drink you are good? No. Food maybe?" "I am good, no wait, another beer." He tipped the bottle toward her in salutation. She stood up taking his bottle with her to the bar. He looked back and was immediately aware that he did not notice that the android wheel himself out and into the conduit. He would have liked to see which of the two entrances of the tube he used to go to his ship. His feeling sorry for and pitying himself put him in a position where he let slip an opportunity to understand and predict the circumstances of his current tactical situation. Never at ease, always being prepared. He felt spite. The girl returned with a beer and a half full whiskey glass, no ice. She reclaimed her seat looking at him. "I am a direct descendant of the patriarch Maurice Giovanni, one of the four primary key holders of our people. There is nothing special about me really, ten..." Emilien cut her off in gentle tone. "Ten percent of the Juel population are descendants of the four patriarchs." Emilien finished her sentence for her. "You are an interesting man Monsieur Scott. What else do you know about me?" Emilien leaned towards her. Noticing her brother yawning across the room. "I know that you are bourgeois and I know that you receive a cyclical allowance from your great, great... How many generations?" "I am removed 133 generations from my Patriarch. He is a very good, doting grandfather. We all adore him. We are around 750 million siblings you know. Those who are from aristocracy have fewer children than the proles. We are so few so that our wealth is not diluted too much." She smiled reminiscently dragging her finger on the edge of the glass. Her brother seemed to stretch himself out he stood up and walked over. Entering the sound damper he acknowledged Emilien's presence with a curt nod. "Maurelle, I am going to sleep." He said to her. She waved at him dismissively. "Have a good dream frere." He exited the room through the right tubes door which made sense as their ship was more closely attached to it on that side of the circular docking ring. Predictable and honest Emilien thought to himself. Macy popped her head through the kitchens serving window. "Lights out and shutdown in 2 blocks. Just a friendly notice." The couple acknowledged the warning from Macy with raised glass and bottle. Emilien turned his attention back to the lady. "How do you manage to retain wealth in such a large family?" He pretended to be ignorant of the finery and detail of Juel culture. "We have closed loop channels controlled and balanced by the patriarchs. But our money is good as core stone. Anywhere in the outer void. Only recently has dispute arose between my Patriarchs and the Magarrie. They do not accept our Sats anymore since the war started. They only accept bitcoins directly from the core. I was only four cycles old when the war began so I am used to it." Emilien felt a conflicting disturbance, thinking about how his body is only two cycles active but his mind stretches back far beyond this time. Being both older and younger than his partner in discourse. "Helloo? I lost you there for a moment Scott." "What are you thinking about?" Emilien lied to her faking emotion. "I was just thinking about the tremendous loss of life that we are orbiting. The planet embedded with what it's inhabitants assumed would be it's portal to prosperity became the golem of it's demise." He was happy that Maurelle seemed to empathise and mirror his philosophic grief. "Come with me I want to tell you a secret. You like secrets." She stood up taking his hand gently tugging, compelling him to follow her. She led him to the far end of the room. She pulled a small levered switch and the wall folded in on itself to reveal a impressive window flooding sharp light into the whole of the large room as it retracted. They both squinted and lifted their hands to shield their eyes adjusting to the glare of Sol. The scene of destruction appeared even more dramatic and morbid as dark sharply defined shadows clipped with golden edges, evoking a sense of isolation and suffering. "These gates were supposed to be a gift to Earth. A hope of spreading humanity across the stars like the children of Abraham." Emilien smirked. "You believe that nonsense?" She rested her head on his shoulder still holding onto his arm. "Our patriarchs have preserved the mysteries of mankind for millennia. I said that I am going to tell you a secret don't patronise me. I do not believe anything. What I know, it is not faith. It is understanding. Knowledge, a type of knowledge that you cannot quantify with mathematics and chemistry. It is a higher science that is proven by the unmistakable coincidence of fate. It is invisible to those who are ignorant and they who despair, those who have lost all hope are blind to this promise." Emilien felt a strange remorse. "I guess I must be blind then." The lights suddenly shut down and the song stopped dead in it's track, like Macy promised. Overcome by the majesty of the scene Maurelle wiped a tear away fearing that her makeup might get ruined. "Anyone can see. They must just open their eyes voluntarily and be honest with themselves. Their true original selves. Who they were made to be." Emile felt judged and wanted to end this conversation quickly. "I am going back to my ship, you have a good night now." She grabbed tightly at his wrist almost painfully. "You do not want to know my secret?" Emelien was becoming annoyed with her insistence he removed her hand from his arm. "I don't think you know any real useful secrets, sweetheart." He sounded threatening, the real enshrouded unmistakable him breaking through the act. She looked at him unintimidated by his sudden shift in personality. "Oh, so I suppose you know why the Juela are at war for most of our lives?" He sarcastically extended his arms forward palms up in restrained but evidently mocking adoration. "Please enlighten me priestess." "They are fighting over this." She pointed at the epic scene of destruction drifting statically out of view as the stations rotation cut it off at the edge of the window. The shadows chased Sol light away sliding like a retracting blade across the room leaving it dark. Emilien burst out angrily. "They are fighting over satoshis! That is all they ever fight over! What I fight for, Damnit! Sats and the resources to gain more of it! That is the beginning and end of all things! Anyone in the universe with even the slightest lick of self worth works, fights and dies for sat!" Maurelle stared astutely at him unemotionally affected by his outburst. She obviously had experienced this exact reaction before and suddenly Emilien realised that he might be the one being manipulated by a smarter and wiser being than himself. "Are you done my love? Have you made your point or is there some other deeper understanding you wish me to internalise into my ignorant small little world?" She threw at him a spiteful sarcasm of her own. "Do you really think I do not know what it means to be seduced by wealth? Luxury?" She took a step closer to him. "Pleasure?" Emilien felt stupid and disarmed this time adding emotionally disarmed to the defeat of being inept in his own body. "I am not a fool mon cherie. The truly wealthy don't fight for wealth, they fight for power. But the noble and sincere fight a different fight with a different weapon. They use words to fight, ideas to win. They fight to gain trust with words, and they fight to retain it with consistency in their actions. Trust is a currency that makes sat seem like shit in comparison because it is real even though you do not believe what you cannot hold in your hand, like your beloved sat." She pointed at the ring on his finger. "Trust only retains value if you honour your words with your actions. Its value is fragile and can disappear in a moment of weakness like water vapour, cherished as the source of life then gone, poof, evaporated. Like magic. This type of trust if gained and retained correctly, projects you forward into the realm of immortality." Emile felt stung and hurt on a personal level, unsure if she was generalising or targeting his own specific weakness purposely. It confused him and made him feel insecure. "What are they fighting for then?" He asked slightly surrendering to the unexpected superior reasoning. Maurelle appreciated the honesty she identified as sincere. She gently took his hand again and led him back to the large convex window. They stood silently for a block, waiting on the rotation to pull the bright light of Sol back into the room. "They are fighting for the power to do that." She pointed at Earth in all it's terrible glory. "The destruction caused by the gate was a terrible cataclysm outside of humanities collective control. The core and the gates are a mystery to mankind." She looked up at Emilien, relieved to see that he was still taking her seriously. "The Maggarie have discovered a weapon that has the power to destroy a planet. The Juel think they are fighting to free Osteri captives from slavery but the real motif is hidden, our Patriarchs unadmitted fear of being inferior to the Maggarie. Most of the goods we traded with them they have stopped accepting, the Shiv and Osteri still buy our products but the Maggarie have suddenly lost the need for our produce, even raw material in it's basest forms. They are expanding somehow and the balance of interdependence has tilted out of our favor. They have no more need for us and have cast us aside like a filthy rag." She paused in thought. "Their new super weapon is the cause of this conflict monsieur Scott." Emilien shrugged. Feeling relieved at regaining the intellectual high ground he thought he had lost. "I'm sorry Maurelle. I have no data on this weapon. If this was true the forums on my bulletin board would have leaked information about it's existence epochs ago, it's been just over three cycles everyone would have known this by now. It sounds more like Jeul fearmongering or perhaps it is the daydreaming fairy tale of an innocent naive girl who worships old myths and legends of a time dead for thousands of years." He pointed at Earth. She sniffed away a hint of emotion and anger. "Well then, I have nothing more to say to you, Good night monsieur Scott." She pulled away from him pridefully and looked out at the enormous gate embedded like a knife into the earths crust. "You are a swine monsieur Scott, leave me alone with my pearl." Emilien stepped back mockingly bowing slightly. "Good night sweetheart." He walked back to his craft laughing inside himself. "Stupid woman." He muttered, although be it doubtfully.

...

scifi

@ 45bda953:bc1e518e

Core Divide - Sol System - Gate 7

Tremors from warp turbulence rumbled a bit excessively to the Stripper's liking. Emilien was occupied in the lavatory, inspecting and pulling at his face, staring intently at it in the vanity mirror. Macy's establishment was a popular place and he had concerns about who he might run into, contemplating whether he should stick some silicone cosmetic pads onto his face, just enough to obfuscate his current identity. Maybe he shouldn't bother because he might die soon anyway. He has grown fond of his current persona and wouldn't mind retaining it a cycle longer at least. Being artificially immortal somehow did not take away the terror of confronting death. He recalled the various deaths he had experienced and could not decide what method of passing through he preferred, imagining the many shells of himself in different states of necrosis all over the greater void. He considered the possibility that he might not even be himself anymore. He felt like he knows himself well enough to be sure but that small fragment of doubt always gnawed at the back of his mind. He stood back from the mirror. "Am I him?" The ship shook again breaking his stare, he looked at the dental lever lying in the basin and committed to the more necessary procedure, placing the edges of his palms on his chin pushing abruptly up and back dislocated his lower jaw leaving it to hang loose on his face. Taking the root lever from the basin and leaning into the mirror he expertly wedged the tool in behind his rearmost left molar and twisted it slightly, dislodging it. Catching the small object with his left hand he pressed it into a recess on a black ring which he tightly twisted onto his right hands index finger. He narrowed his eyes at the skeletal horror on the other side of the frame inspecting the freshly opened hole. He opened the vanity and took a cartridge which was labelled "AdrenoChem" he removed the object within the container and wiggled it into the vacant molar cavity. Drool dripping into the sink in spite of his reflexive swallowing, he gripped his jaw tight and in gentle circular downward motions found the spot and clicked the joints back into relocation. Chattering his teeth together while stretching his neck he decided to procrastinate on the disguise idea. Emilien went back to the cockpit. Sitting down at the helm he pulled up notices and reports on the divide's situation with regards to the cease fire between the two warring factions. "Tch, tch, tch. This blockade is not making things easy." His eyes were scrolling over bullet points of news headlines when his ship dropped out of warp at the designated coordinates. He switched the display on the primary screen to clearview. The scene of a dead planet, cracked open like an enormous fruit with scattered asteroid clusters and rocky debris appeared onscreen. A giant still wreck of a superstructure resembling parts of an anchor and drift gate joined to each other like Siamese twins, sharp flashes emitting from it silently, like a muted storm in the far distance. He slowly tilted his head to it's limit. Nothing looked familiar to him. He took the console, rolled and yawed simultaneously until his point of view made sense. "There we are. You're not there till you know it." Macy's space motel pitched into view like a tiny reflective insect. On a secondary screen he zoomed the display to fit. It was attached to a large tubular docking link reaching away distantly and back to itself like Ourobouros. There were four spacecraft docked around it's circumference, less than he had expected. He only recognised the largest ship, Warren's vessel. It looked like a mess of odd protrusions, parabolic dishes and bent antennae. Very unsightly, especially compared to the Lux Void Yacht docked across from it. Tourists from everywhere frequented this remote region of the great divide for obvious reasons. Primary motivations were curiosity, pilgrimage, seclusion and scientific research in that order. Macy was smart to settle her establishment at this specific site. Emilien checked web connectivity to make sure he was still well outside the data scrambling anomaly. According to legend, after the Viper gate had been released from the Core and travelled the required distance to it's anchor coordinates, it was supposed to propel it's drift gate into the greater void, but something went wrong. It malfunctioned on it's attempt to release and veered off course being pulled into the orbit of the Sol system. No one knows exactly how it happened but it was clear to see that the energy released was spectacular. The root planet and most of humanity perished in a second, those who survived on the dark side of the collision died from starvation and gradual planetary destabilisation. Emilien morbidly recognised the historicity of the treacherous looking voidscape. Pulsing his ship softly forward caused a cut to core connectivity activating a repetitive red warning light which he promptly covered with one of the intact disposable cups that were rolling around his feet. There is no way to turn the annoying emitter off and he usually ignored it with closed eyes or looking away when void jumping. He is never vulnerable to core connection loss unless he comes to this region or when he is purposely trying to disappear. Researchers have concluded that the interference was broadcast from the gates enormous husk's residual power and intermittent energy discharge. He reverse pulsed back out of the disturbance, the dimmed light under the paper cup died. "Astrid?" "Yes?" He carefully uncoiled the cable and leaned forward connecting himself to the command interface and resting his head on his arms. "Save me." A quick upload took place. "You are welcome commander." Emilien did not respond. Just grateful that if something went askew he would at least wake up knowing that the last thing he saw was the monumental vestige of humanities ancient resting place. And all the ship types docked at Macy's. He smiled at the floor.

...

scifi

@ 45bda953:bc1e518e

Hithe III

The counsel convened and an area of land had been designated as suitable for an industrial scale landing site of tier III size void vessels. All Kaspian land owners were required to donate workers for the initiative. It was an exciting affair for all involved. With an evergreen tree line to hinder the on and off breeze, tables were assembled and covered with a unique assortment of table cloths. Every lady brought one along and the embroidery on each was the cause of many flattering remarks. The women brought all sorts of food and refreshments, had gazebo's set up and had chairs placed well away from the noise and dust of the demarcated construction site. The men where organising equipment, measuring bedrock depth and organising the labour parties into manageable groups. In spite of all the mothers most dire warnings to stay clear of the areas where active construction would be taking place, the children knew they had free reign to explore and play wherever they wanted. The oxen bellowed incessantly, tethered in long lines before their carts, a slave armed with standard bullwhip, ready to man his post atop each wagon. Albin sat on the ground chewing on a stalk of wheat. Being barely old enough to help the men with their work, he was ordered to do nothing more than spectate. Having received concerned looks from the adults, repeating tropes of how he might get hurt and be in the way. He made peace with his lot. The fact that he was going to see void craft was exciting enough to satiate his curiosity for adventure. He would inadvertently lean back and look up expectantly only to see the clear sky then rock forwards back to his previous position. His only regret was that Seth was not with him to discuss and share in the experience. Seth was old enough to work alongside the other slaves, robbing Albin of good company. He glanced back at the large groups of women and smaller children, his mother stuck out like a sore thumb seeing as she was the only lady wearing pants amongst the variety of her chemise, spring attired peers. Her hair was braided and she had an unopened parasol at hand. No one dared ask why her odd choice in outfit though you knew they thought ill of it by their confused and somewhat unduly patronising looks. Before dawn, when they were still at the manor Albin asked her why she was dressed funny and she said that she would prefer not making a spectacle of herself. He just shrugged and did not think much of it again until just now. It seemed to him that she was the only spectacle around not even having brought a table cloth to adorn her bench like the other woman did. He decided to get something to eat and drink because the texture and taste of the dried stalk had become slightly off-putting making him spit out little bits of grass as he stood up. Cleolia smiled affectionately when she saw her boy approaching and peered over her shaded glasses. He lifted the picnic basket off the ground and put it on the heavy bare wooden table, filled a cup with milk and swallowed it down almost as quickly as he had poured it. "Are they going to be late." He asked his mother. "I'm sure they will arrive soon my dear." She replied while taking a seat in a folding chair. Albin grabbed a handful of pretzels and looked around ponderously as he ingested the snack. The people always enjoyed community gatherings of this sort. Lot's of catching up and gossip happening in a cheerful non insidious way. A type of orderly chaos that brought feelings of peace and tranquillity to the conscious observer. His daydream was broken by a soft but clearly distinct repetitive dong of the distant church tower. His dad and father Ecknard were there using the comms, he assumed they were signalling for something. A long shrill whistling sound caught Albins attention and he began walking towards the furthest groups of men while scanning the area intently. The discernible pitch of Seth's whistle became audible again and Albin honed in on the direction the sound was coming from. He saw his friend standing on an ox cart waving his woven satgat frantically trying to get Albin's attention. As soon as they established eye contact he pointed in a very specific north western direction upwards at the dome of the sky. Albin followed his gaze and for a moment thought his mind is playing a trick on him, but it became apparent that a silhouette of something oddly pale was stuck in the sky with nondescript features. Recalling his studies he managed to identify the craft. It was a Dragon IV Cargo vessel. A Magar craft and supposedly very impressive, the distance did not do it justice, yet the uncanny feeling that X fold more people were floating in a box in the sky than were on the planet made Albin's stomach flip and he felt off balance. He sat down on the ground again to prevent him from stumbling around trying to keep his legs under his body. As soon as the church bell ceased it's tolling a smoke signal was ignited in the clearing beyond the work parties. The yellow smoke billowed up in sharp contrast to the greenery of the fields. III percussive shots thundered through the air like cannon fire causing a sudden change in environmental ambience. Birds were visibly swarming up from trees as far as the eye could see. Albin chose not to remove his sights from the giant void craft. He saw a light in the atmosphere that became distinct as it neared separating into the underbellies of III descending craft. Albin murmered. "The Dragons payload." His excitement grew as did the vessels on their approach. At first a hum growing into a crescendo of weird harmonic roaring as the vessels fought mightily to resist Hithe's above average gravitational pull. All the men tipped their satgats and hard hats to cover their faces, the oxen also faced away. Albin did not want to look away but was forced to turn his head as a powerful gust loaded with projectiles of sand and grass peppered his face sharply. Looking back he saw his mother promptly opening her parasol and pointing it in the direction of the landing, then the real spectacle occurred. All the woman covered their faces only to have their skirts blown up exposing their undergarments, in turn trying to push down their skirts uncovering their faces. The risk of shame weighed against tolerance to pain combined into a beautiful ballet of embroidered cloth being wrapped around trees and condiments strewn around the shaded grove with gazebos escaping the scene followed by children running after them in heated pursuit. Cleolia's pant legs fluttered rapidly around her ankles. As soon as the III vessels turbulence settled she folded her parasol and reassumed her previous position as if nothing of note had transpired. Smiling carefree amongst the distraught group women and children around her. Albin would have laughed at the scene had his eyes not stung so badly. "Mother always knows best." He mumbled to himself as he stood up brushing dust off his undercoat. The opening of the ships cargo bays where announced with a loud hiss of air depressurising. Albin casually sauntered over to get a closer look. The cattle marched up the ramps wagon in tow to park directly alongside the freight. The goods consisted of thousands of long coach bolt like nails as long as fence posts and sturdy modular steel plates stacked on mobile pallets and tied down securely. Albin imagined them to look like giant, shiny metal puzzle pieces. The primitive vehicles and their crews made quick and efficient work of releasing the straps and with the help of overhead cranes hoisted the pallets and their contents into the wagons. Two uniformed men came out from inside the ship and stood watching the men unload their craft. Albin noticed the smartly dressed pilots. "Holy servants of the Empire." He spoke softly under his breath. His desire to meet these champions of the void felt necessary to him. They who travel among the stars much like the stories he always heard about his parents. The men were standing safely apart from the work parties, Albin mustered the courage to approach them. He timidly walked up behind them. "Ahem, Hallo Sir." The pilots looked around surprised. Albin seemed respectful and quaint. "Hey kiddo, you guys have a lovely planet." The pilot replied friendly. "What type of craft are these, sir?" The man gestured towards his vessel in reply. "These? They are standard Type I Droppers. Nothing really special about them." Albin nodded. "Are you from Magar void?" "I am indeed. It is really magnificent but you have something quite spectacular yourselves." Albin did not expect that anything in his little world could impress these well travelled gentlemen. "Like what?" He insisted questioningly. "Like the sol shield. You know the star inhibitor. It's a marvel of our time." The man pointed at Ceb. Albin understood. "Oh yes, my pa put it there so we can all survive here." Both pilots looked at each other surprised. Their demeanour changed and Albin suddenly felt uncomfortable. The man knelt down until he was eye level putting his hand on Albins shoulder clenching it just tight enough to not be painful. "If you are a Domitian heir, then I am an Osteri dancing girl at a Juel gentlemans club." His sarcastic tone cut Albin's pride. "You'd better run along and go play with your friends before I decide to arrest you or report you to the authorities." The other pilot looked away ignoring Albin's confused expression. The man assertively shoved Albin away from him. Albin just barely prevented himself from falling on his rear. Tears welled up in Albin's eyes, he turned and ran away humiliated and angry. But he choked back the tears, choosing to embrace the anger in place of emotional release. He ran away from the construction zone also avoiding the picnic area. He did not want to be around anyone. His erratic and emotional mood would betray his experience if anyone he loved interacted with him. He ran into a shaded area of wood and sat down on a stump to digest and try to reset his state of mind to normalcy. He sat quietly for about III blocks when he heard laughter from beyond the wood. There were a group of boys standing circled around an Osteri boy and girl. The girl was crying. Albin witnessed the interaction. "You are not supposed to be here. Only the working slaves are here today." The boy pleaded with his captor in reply. "I only came to find my sister, we are going back to the village now. Please let us go." "But what was she doing here then? Huh?" Albin walked into the centre of the fray interrupting the entire affair. Standing squarely in front of whom he assumed was the primary instigator. The biggest guy in the bunch. "They are only curious to see the void craft. That is why we all came here today." He explained diplomatically. The big kid sneered. "And who are you to tell me how to treat slaves. You are Magar, you should know better." Another kid piped in. "My mama told me he is Kaspa." The bully looked around surprised. Another boy opined. "Not true, my mom said that his mother was pregnant for 40,000 blocks." And then another kid had to add his understanding to the discussion. "No, no, my pa said that she lost the baby at birth and adopted a slaves child." Albin got overwhelmed with the revelations of rumour and petty gossip surrounding his person. "That does not give you the right to bully them!" Albin pointed to the brother and sister. The big boy smiled a snide retort leaning forward mockingly. "No, but I might have the right to bully you, Osteri bastard child of a slave." Albin felt all natural sense of humanity drain from his being. He turned feigning to leave, balled his fist and swung, socket-ting the unprepared target square on the throat. He fell on his back and the angst of restricted breath became evident first to himself and then to all watching. Albin turned to the siblings. "You can go." The pair hurriedly left and none of the boys even hinted at preventing them. Albin looked at all the others dead in the eye each in turn. Then he left walking the long distance towards his mother. He was thirsty and his hand smarted a little, but he felt much better.

...

scifi

@ 45bda953:bc1e518e

Emilien was hanging face down inside an enclosure of thick egg shaped glass attached to a mechanised vehicle. Kevlar webbing hugged him tightly into a bucket seat. Long hydraulic arms being manipulated intuitively by a console in his hands and a module interface plugged into his cybernetic neck socket. The bulky animated machine clung like some Lovecraftian spider to the outer hull of his space station. Some cycle’s previously he did data security updates and backtesting for a deep space mining company's security protocols. After seeing their utility, enquired if he could purchase one as partial payment for his contract. Unfortunately they had none for sale but were willing to give him a retired malfunctioning unit gratis. He purchased a maintenance manual on the void web and had connections who helped him source some replacements for the faulty parts. Since then the machine enabled him to be functionally productive in the void, giving him the degrees of freedom and fine motor skills necessary to perform upkeep on stationary deep void assets. The glass of the egg auto dimmed as he laser welded tightly slotted panels together on the previously damaged space station. “How do you feel?” He asked. Abruptly breaking hours of silence. “I’ve been playing around. My capacitance recharge responds well to dump loads, turret retraction gears all functional again. I feel good.” Astrid responded. “Nice. Slowly pressurise the holding chamber for me.” “In progress.” The spider crawled several meters out of the way to safety. Emilien's eyes scanning up and down for leaks. “Slowly babe.” Some minutes passed. “Fully pressurized and stable.” The mechs giant front arms extending, lifted as it stood up on its four hind legs throwing an arachnid shadow across the hull. Emilien flung his arms down crashing a violent concussive blow to the hull in a thunderous clang. The arms retracted. “Still good?” His demeanour remained unchanged. There was a pause. “All good.” Astrid replied. Emilien smiled, Astrid was the best and his feelings of endearment were genuine. “Can we power up the chamber through a fused circuit.” He sensed a soft hum throughout emanating from deep below. “Is the body stable?” “The body is stable. Cryogenic chamber battery backup is at forty three percent. Charge reapplied. Potential of clone spoilage averted. Well done commander.” He could up the ante of risks knowing that his reserve life was secured. “What’s next on the agenda?” “Firstly, signal quality from the drift gate is poor and I am losing connection to the web intermittently.” Emilien nodded. “The gate’s been moving further away. It’s a line of sight problem. I’ll place a relay outside the asteroid belt.” “Secondly, we should see if the husk on the explorer vessel has intact data or a black box. Someone might be looking for them.” He heaved back and vaulted himself off the station in the direction of the wreck micro thrusting for minor trajectory adjustments, with an elegant crash he finally perched on the ship, it gained an almost imperceptible drift as it absorbed the weight of Emilien’s mass, pushing debris along with it. His size would not allow him to move through the standard doors and passages so he opted to disassemble, cut and break apart the hull adjoining the bridge. When he had broken open a space of sufficient size to manoeuvre through, he powered the backlights on, he first peeked inside to familiarise himself with the layout. The egg suspended itself in front of the opening. It was a standard enough bridge doubling as an unorthodox crypt. There were three sets of boots, overalls and coagulated blood all jammed into the slit of the semi sealed door leaving the bridge. An assortment of rubbish floating around casting doubled up shadows larger than themselves. Emilien looked at the mess with sullen eyes. “Shit heads.” He mumbled to himself. All the seats had their safety belts buckled correctly . He concluded that what they experienced must have sucked pretty bad. His mechanical exoskeleton slithered and gripped like an octopus as he entered and positioned himself before the primary interface. His vehicle plugged itself into the command terminal, measuring resistance for shorts before powering it up from his suit. “Can you pull the data and dump it somewhere safe?” “No problem, please wait.” He closed his eyes as he usually did when doing the mundane. Astrid spoke. “They are Osteri. No one will be looking for them any time soon.” “Howcome?” “Recently a blockade has been established at the Lion gate. Magar Capital Vessels are not allowing unvetted ships to pass through into Magar void.” A sense of concern crept over Emilien. “What is considered unvetted?” “Sanctions and trade embargo’s against the Juel.” “Is there a log somewhere you can access with records of flights that do get permission.” He suddenly felt a pang of claustrophobia. Ironically, not because he was strapped down in a glass egg within a wasted bridge plastered with corpse splatterings. Astrid took longer than usual to reply. “Who get’s through babe?” His tone hinted of impatience and irritation. “I’m sorry, unable to access any data from Magar void. It appears to have a firewall blocking all two way communication on the open web.” Emilien remained silent. The upload completed. He disconnected himself from the husks terminal, clambering out of the tomb and pushed himself away from the vessel drifting back to the space station.

Astrid was pulling and scanning various shipping logs when Emilien entered the room. He paced up and down the way he would when he was brainstorming. “I need intel.” Astrid projected a holographic avatar of herself standing near where Emilien was pacing. “A large shipment of Kaspian Bochet passed through less 428 blocks. Transported by the Shiv Inter-void Mercantile Co.” Emilien stopped in his tracks and looked back.\ “Can you ping Warren?” Astrid processed. “Warren is offline. He might have left the divide?” Emilien turned around with his hands folded behind his back.\ “He never leaves the divide, he is too obsessed with the core. He would also be arrested if he is ever caught in any of the outer void territories.” Astrid flickered the way she did when something did not compute. “Then why can’t I ping him?” “Because he’s at Macy’s. He has always had a crush on her and he likes good Bochet.” "Well, I could'nt ping Macy if I wanted to." Astrid stated matter of factly. Emilien nodded. "I know, you never could, no one can."

...

scifi

@ 45bda953:bc1e518e

Morning light shone beautifully through the arched rose stained glass of the modest cathedral. From the east Ceb rays permeated inside of the stony structure with splendour. A priest standing elevated over the crowd by a forward leaning pulpit, like a comical figurehead on the bow of a ship. Almost precariously, as if it should not be able to suspend him, though no one doubts that it would. Ecknard has never seen the church so full. The devotion of the colony has been growing but he did not expect a turnout of this scope. He swelled with pride and blinked away the moist warning sign of tears. People were even gathering around the outside of the building for a lack of benches to accommodate all the derriere's. Everyone was silent in pious reverence of the holy day. This day would initiate the MD epoch. Domitius, Cleolia and Albin were sitting in the front pew. Albin, dressed in respectable although a slightly uncomfortable suit could not help but shift in his seat, awkwardly feeling as if he were disturbing everyone around him. Ecknard motioned with outstretched arms to alert all that he is about to address the congregation. The silence was so disciplined that you could hear the flap of his sleeves and a small bird chirping away on the stone windowsill outside, merrily indifferent to the solemnity of air the building exuded. “Kaspian brethren, esteemed Magar, today is a most holy and greatly anticipated occurrence! Before we initiate festivities I wish to expound, primarily to the benefit of the younger people in our company, the history of our colony and to express thanks. Ahem... It has been III cycles now since our colony had been established! Our endeavours have been blessed with great bounty, we have expanded independently in isolation! We, who are old enough to remember, were discharged, from the Primary Omega Expansion Vessel with only the implements of labour, livestock, seed, steely resolve and courage in our hearts. We asserted ourselves and rose to a daunting challenge, A party of MCCC slaves and free men to tame a wild land, adapt to a star with a volatile proclivity and a planet with different rotational patterns from what we were accustomed!” A slight excitement erupted from the crowd but Ecknard muted it quickly with outstretched arm. "Our esteemed visionary and great leader prepared a way for us, long before any of you even considered the freedom and opportunity, a chance to build something and own it!” The priest’s voice ascended powerfully out over the people. “He had a dream, an idea, a grand scheme to expand the Empire!” Ecknard motioned down to Domitius. The crowd erupted in cheer chanting, the older Kaspian men softly beating their chests with their fists. “Domitius! Domitius!” The lord’s composure remained unchanged, as if he were alone in private devotion. Cleolia blushed slightly and tilted her head using her hat to protect her from the incessant adoration. Albin could not contain his own excitement and stood up on his seat in the pew to get a better view of the standing ovation, absorbing the glory directed towards his father.” The priest waited for the people to exhaust themselves until there was only an isolated call before continuing his monologue. “A student of the void, a sage of stars, a scientist of renown! Scoffed and ridiculed by his peers! They laughed and jested when he proposed his innovations. They published warnings and mockery of his ambition proclaiming to all that they would be proved fools if they are seduced by his unrealistic promise. Their jealousy moved them to lobby the high council to convince them, and convince them, they did. By ratio of VIII to II refused to grant him licence!” Ecknard leaned forward over the pulpit with a fierce look of disgust in his jowl. “A council on which he holds a seat to this day... He was denied the opportunity to improve the lives of future generations and untold millions by his own house! His desire to see his dream realised pushed him to do what no Magar noble ever has or would ever dare much less someone born of sacred blood!” Ecknard gripped at his robe as if to curtsy or show fear, no one understood the gesture. “He ventured outside the confines and protection of Magar Prime void. He brought his technological treasure to us! We Kaspa were undeserving of the honour! The Kaspian elders endorsed him granting freedom to continue his research and install his technology. A true Magar with holy blood in his veins travelling betwixt our stars!" He looked up and pointed at the arches as if he could see the stars through the stone and daylight. "Brethren, allow me to express the distinction of this achievement. Habitable planets are as rare as sat. Inhabitable planets are so rare, wars were fought at the mere rumour or hope of their discovery. With his star shields he was able to block the solar winds in systems that were inhospitable to travel through and not a single inhabitable planet to be found. With time and stimulus unnatural landscapes of horror and perdition were transformed into paradise. Our esteemed Lord Domitius with his lovely wife spent III cycles inhibiting stars and seeding planets with life. The Kaspian Academy of Sciences had a revival and all the concerted efforts of our people were united in spirit when we witnessed the first sun shields confine their chosen stars..." His tone became soft and morose. "We are truly blessed to have tamed XIV stars within our own void region. Kaspa is quickly becoming the most dense concentration of occupied habitats in the known universe. The family Chevalier conquered Ceb the most volatile star in the Kaspian void. And to inspire confidence in the stability of the star shield he settled under it’s umbrella to live through it’s success or die by it’s failure.” He paused for sincere dramatic effect. “The Seat of the Empire has since changed it’s opinion, humiliated and shamed are they who doubted... All glory to the Core.” “All glory to the core.” The mass repeated in unison. “Today we approach block CCCXV million since Genesis. The Epoch MD. One thousand five hundred epochs in the scientific metric tongue. The known universe is united in celebration, a ceasefire has been negotiated by Empire and the Juela Federation. Both are bound by the accords. No war may be fought. CCLXII million blocks have transpired since Exodus, when the almighty Core made Mother Terra desolate with the fires of it’s Judgement. Punishing mankind for it’s greed and vice. We thank the Core that it extends it’s reach to the outer void by way of the drift gates, unites mankind across the great divide by way of the XII anchor gates and that it continues to be merciful, guide and bless us. All glory to the Core. Amen.”

...

scifi

@ 45bda953:bc1e518e

A knock on the door awoke Cleolia. “Yes, come in?” A slave girl peeked into the door lighting her own face with the candle she was holding. “The master calls for you madam.” “What time is it?” She queried. “It is high night madam.” Cleolia climbed out of bed and followed the maiden’s flickering light to the dining hall. Dressed in a nightgown she entered the room to see her husband staring down at a large glowing data pad. “And when did we start using electronics?” She questioned with restrained surprise. “Since we started using extractors.” Cleolia gasped. Domitius pointed towards the pad which displayed a geographic map of Hithe III. He pulled the image to the latitude and longitude of the colony. “Do you remember when we visited this planet the first time, just you and me alone?” Domitius appeared to reminisce romantically. “Of course, it is impossible to forget.” Cleolia gestured appreciatively. “Can you show me on the map where we landed and where we camped?” She put her hand on the data pad, swiped the image down and the reading north about three hundred kilometres from the colony to stop at the meandering river. With her thumb and index finger she zoomed to the precise location. “And do you remember where I scanned those Geo samples?” She pulled the image east slowly until she thought that the contours looked familiar. “Here I think.” Was her uncertain reply. “That is correct. My love, listen to me... “the urgency in his tone was apparent.” ...the composition of that rock cannot be penetrated by standard tier scanners. After we had returned to Magar Prime I contracted a spacer to excavate a tunnel into that cliff.” “Why?” Her eyes darted between his face and the data pad. “Inside the cavern he assembled two Asp shuttles. The twins are each fitted for speed... with shields, cloak and warp function.” “Why are you telling me this?” Cleolia became worried. “I originally planned to be able to evacuate the whole colony, slaves included. We knew very little about the planet and I had to plan for a possible emergency...” He trailed off never finishing his thought. “...Nevertheless, it was a very extensive list of possible risks we might have faced. We knew very little about this planet. The colony has expanded far beyond the capacity of these ships. I share this information with you only as a precaution... We must protect our son.” Cleolia noticed his bloodshot eyes. “Who else knows of this?” “Myself, Father Ecknard and now you.” She looked at him with concern in her eyes. “Are you going to stay up all night? Come to bed.” Domitius gestured agreement by turning off the pad and taking her hand. "Have you been hiding more gadgets from me? I'd really like to install some heat dampeners to cool the manor." He cracked a reluctant smile. "Pretty soon it might just be the norm."

Deep Void - Anchor 9

Emilien was lying sleeping in his cockpit when a yellow light in the HUD and a soft repetitive buzz woke him, he stretched himself out and reached for the console. “I am almost home baby.” He took over from auto pilot and broke out of warp twenty thousand kilometres from an anchor gate. He hit the void scan and tuned to listen for chatter on all frequencies... the channels were silent, not even a hint of encryption static. The giant and slowly spinning gate had idle state radiation emission levels. “No recent jumps.” He waited in silence for 12 blocks hitting void scan intermittently, scanning the gate more than anything else. “No traffic as per usual.” Emilien aimed his Stripper guns towards the gate and boosted himself forwards. Gradually slowing down to realign with the gate. His ship slowly drifted into the active coil as the gate charged up. Large bolts of charge reached forth like tentacles of the leviathan grabbing onto the voidcraft consuming it, and in what can only be described as being flung by a supernatural slingshot, jerked his vessel into a different reality. Emilien looked up at the roof of his cockpit for the duration of the jump and then began a slow countdown under his breath. “One!” He sat up and punched void scan while simultaneously scanning all channels. His craft materialised in front of a replica of the previous gate, except this gate was eternally boosting itself forward at what appears to be a snails pace relative to the speed of the jump. “Silent as a tomb.” He relaxed and pulsed his ship lightly away from the drift gate and waited for the residual cloak to dissipate. His relief was palpable. “I wonder if she noticed me?” As soon as his ship decloaked a private comms channel pinged. The caller, in well articulated feminine tone spoke first. “Welcome back commander.” Emilien admired the view of his void. He had become so attached to this zone that he even felt jealous to think that any interloper could fly through it in his absence. “Did you have any guests while I was away?” Emilien admired the purple dust cloud of what he believed to be a couple of billion year old super nova. “I did have one visitor. They were very friendly.” His heart felt a dull pain. His virgin territory had been discovered. “Where did they come from?” “I believe they were explorers.” “Did they know where you were?” “I played hide and seek with them.” Emilien had a recurring dream that slowly conceived in his consciousness since he finally settled down, that he could power off the drift gate in his system preventing jumps and reactivate it at his leisure. The dream frustrated him, when he wakes to find reality not so forgiving. “Did you hide or did you seek?” “A little of both.” A subtle rage developed inside him though his stone like expression would never betray it. The asteroid belt he was approaching grew larger considerably faster as he increased the speed of his approach. He hit void scan just to be sure that the intruder was not in the direct vicinity. “Are they still here Astrid?” “No, I destroyed it for you.” The Stripper drifted around an asteroid within the belt exposing a space station tethered to the largest roid and the husk of a unidentifiable ripped up prospector type explorer vessel floating amongst it's own debris. “Did it hurt you?” “I had to feign lack of fire power.” “Bastard! How much damage did you take.” “I have lost sixty percent of my capacitance recharge rate. And I cannot feel all my modules... Emilien” “Yes baby?” “They used droids on me.” His face twisted into a look of disgust. He aligned to dock with the station. “May I?” “Permission granted.” The Stripper entered the hanger before the doors had retracted to maximum and landed gently within the interior hanger. “I'll patch you up, don't worry.” Emilien waited for Astrid to complete atmospheric adjustment and climbed out of his craft. He threw back his hood and jogged up a long passage of conduits and cables to the command centre of his station. A large screen lit up in a glow that hues within the dark circular room and Astrid projected Emilien's favourite interface onto it. “I have to update your systems girl.” He pulled a cable from his trouser pocket which he deftly plugged into an implant on his neck and connected the other end to the control panel which prompted him to type in the password for a decryption protocol. He stood still as a corpse waiting for the upload to complete. “Up to speed?” “Yes, thank you. How would you have me adjust myself to this contract?” Emilien smiled an affectionate smile that only Astrid ever sees. He loved the efficiency and companionship combined into perfection. “I need to research the incentives of my contractor, these guys are A grade assholes. I can literally do whatever I find necessary as long as I am successful at guiding a third party mercenary group into taking military control of any system I choose in recently settled Kaspa regions, setting up a blockade and making it accessible for a strip mining fleet to pillage as many resources as possible. They say it’s part of the greater war effort but this Mr Dierre guy is just a puppet. I think they are desperate.” Astrid's avatar flickered irregularly. He looked up at her with concern. “What’s wrong?” “I reviewed your flirty remarks with the secretary. It made my algorithm glitch. I don’t like that.” His worry abated, “First impressions matter baby, I was not sure how to present myself, I needed to poke and prod at them to extract metadata. If they thought I was just an obedient soldier I would still be in the dark.” Astrid projected a look of relief. “Your ingenuity never ceases to surprise me.” Emilien felt his ego swell a little. “Are you that easy to impress.” He quipped with a playful sneer. “If you needed him to expose the identity of his employer I could have easily just pulled the shareholders and executives records, cross referencing them to...” Emilien shussed her. “Just decrypt the dial command tones and place eavesdropper malware on the keypair. I will broadcast it to the network directly from the gate. If we capture every conversation he has I might be able to prove a hunch.” “What are you assuming?” “That they are running out of inbound liquidity and that the shareholders are hesitant to rebalance.” He looked directly up at her. “I think they are going bankrupt.”

...

scifi

@ 45bda953:bc1e518e

3 standard cycles later.

Albin was lying on a two meter high rock outcropping. It was warm from Ceb light but he dared not move. His adrenalin was pumping but he could scarcely take a breath for fear of being heard. His thumping heart was so loud it made him paranoid. He crawled forward and peeked over the edge of the low precipice. A dangerous and savage escaped slave was on his trail, ready to scalp and gut him. If only he could flee to his safe zone. He heard a long low whistle from across the valley. A light flashed from amongst some dense shrubbery at an estimated two hundred metres away. He pulled a mirror from his pocket preparing to return the signal. “This increases my chances.” He thought to himself. He knew that their common enemy was behind him and could not possibly see the reflection of Ceb light if he directed said light perpendicularly away from the hunter. He flashed with his mirror five times towards his ally, two second counts between each flash. No immediate response... he waited. Light flashed from the shrubbery and immediately he became aware of movement in the tall grass behind him. He resisted the urge to look back over his shoulder. The sweat exploded off his forehead. He remained still. It seemed like minutes though it was only a few seconds. Light flashed again.

Grassy movement sounds recurred, heart now racing. Third flash. A burst of movement from the rear left at around eight O clock. Albin turned his head and pressed his right cheek against the cooking rock. A tanned thirteen year old youth raced past below him at unbelievable speed. Scruff cloth pants, barefoot with no shirt and a trailing headband. Albin pushed himself up to his hands and knees. “If there is fifty meters distance between us I could risk running for the manor.” The shrubs on the other side of the valley started to rock violently and birthed a boy in a buttoned up shirt with leather shoes and woven short breeches all tailor made. The boy ran with all his might towards the Domitian manor. “This is my chance.” Albin scrambled off the rock and sprinted towards the manor jumping and dodging the hindering bushes and stones. The other party moving parallel to him across the valley. Seth caught sight of Albin but did not change target and kept course. He held a small blunt wooden object caught up to his first victim and proceeded to stab his prey in the back with it. “Ha, you're dead!” Seth exclaimed while immediately changing course to intersect his secondary target before he gets inside the safe zone. “Not fair. It’s not fair you cheat!” The belligerent player cried dismally. Seth did not care for the accusation in spite of not realising that Albin actually sacrificed his ally to gain a tactical advantage. He was determined to get both kills and be victorious. Albin felt less secure in his current situation and began to doubt his previous assessment of fifty meters and thought that an earlier head start might have been a more favourable risk assessment. “Don't panic Albin, focus.” He reproved himself. Recalculating his speed in comparison to the speed of his hunter, estimated the future point of contact. Veering to the right he sagaciously aimed for the far corner of the estate gardens, increasing the distance of his run to the demarcated safe zone considerably more for his rival than for himself. The race became more intense with the hunter closing in... “I’m alive!” Was the triumphant breathless utterance as the knife swiped past the back of his neck mere centimetres. Albin fell on the trimmed lawn panting. Looking back he saw Seth in a similar condition of respiratory suffering. The loser was still far away grumbling and kicking at the weeds. Seth grinned, “I almost had you.” Albin just nodded in agreement. “I'm thirsty... water, milk or wattle gum juice.” “Wattle gum juice!” Seth exclaimed without hesitation. Albin knew that the slave would never say no to the delicacies and confections of the common people but gave him the option to choose either way. He brushed the grass clippings off his clothes and entered through the back door of the manor. In the kitchen he poured juice into three demure clay mugs whilst noticing emanations of a heated conversation from the foyer. His curiosity bested him. Albin went in and sat himself down on the staircase and gulped at his beverage. The adults scarcely noticed him. “The people are ready to accrue for themselves better prospects in the colony!” The tradesman appealed with fervour. “Your proposals would be sensible under normal circumstances but colonial expansion is best suited for peacetime.” Domitius riposted. “This war has been going for almost III standard cycles, are the people supposed to pause their dreams and ambitions for some vaguely defined purpose. Please consider that an expansion program will be beneficial to the war effort eventually.” Domitius knew that he was being evasive and dishonest. He was finding it more difficult to guide the colony according to his vision, their growing despondency was worsened by his deflecting their requests with indirect excuses. Domitius did not want to rule with force, his exerting authoritarian command would only foster resentment towards him among the Kaspian landowners. “We do not have a militia. How would we keep an influx off world slaves servile if the war seems to tilt against the Empire?” Domitius replied with rhetoric. “It is a valid concern. Mechanical labour is the solution. We should convene a council to address these issues and come to consensus.” The traders uncompromising insistence triggered Domitius past the limit of his patience. “This will not turn into a democracy! Tell me what you require and I will consider it, if I do not agree with you I will annul it and appoint an inquisitor to judge and punish all who dissent!” The tradesman lost his composure and shrunk back. “My lord, I am reluctant to admit... there are no requests.” “No requests?” “Yes my lord.” Domitius was puzzled. The tradesman’s son came into the room with his cup of wattle juice and sat down next to Albin. “Father Ecknard very recently informed me of the news... I had applied for a licence half a cycle previously.” Domitius felt uneasy. “What news?” “... A licence has been issued from Kaspa Prime... they are sending extractors to Hithe III.” Domitius went pale. Thousands of implications flooded his mind. Economic problems, ecological issues and a very much more complex political situation. He remained unresponsive for a moment. “I understand. Isidor, you may go.” The tradesman bowed lower than was required of him then reached towards his son. “I apologise for my insolence.” Domitius ignored the man who quickly left the premises. Domitius looked at his son. “Never become too familiar with your subjects, they become derisive. Damn it! He has created more problems for us than he could comprehend.” “Yes pappa.” He agreed with his father instinctively. “Pappa? Are we going to see real space ships!”

“We are...” Domitius appreciated his son's innocence. “big ones.” He smiled with all but his eyes.

Juela Prime - Capitol

Emilien was waiting patiently in the office lobby of a towering high rise structure. One of thousands of competing banks on the Juel Capitol. He had a valid appointment and felt annoyed by the guard hanging around near him and kept noticing the suspicious glances. “What are you looking at.” he hissed from under his hood. “You a spacer?” “Maybe.” The guard did not follow up on his question, he did not leave either. The door slid open and a impeccably well groomed secretary beckoned at him. “Mr Dierre is ready for you.” “Thank you sweetheart.” He brushed past her sticking a pernicious grin right in her face, she gagged. “Welcome Mr Emilien, I hope you had a good trip.” The bank chief executive greeted with outstretched arms. “Nice suit, I always have good trips. Is it very expensive?” The spacer gestured toward the fabric while looking around and sizing up the situation. “More than you know.” The executive smugly responded and proceeded to open a cabinet containing differently labelled flasks filled with various hues of alcohol. “I know quite a lot.” Emilien licked his lips. The banker hesitantly offered a serving which was accepted without vacillation. “I always thought that you void jumpers would be more reluctant accepting unverified consumables?” Dierre smiled a questioning look. Emilien swallowed the strong fluid and inhaled deeply. “I have a clone ready. And an implant that up links me directly to my pod. Don't think that if I have to wake up in a fresh body that I won't remember this place, including your mug.” Emilien tapped lightly on his temple seeming threatening and postured while he spoke. The banker nodded in uneasy amusement. “Excellent, excellent. Ahem, The reason we contacted you Mr Emilien, is because we are in business...” He promptly helped himself to a second glass of... whatever alcohol it was, anticipating a speech and a job description. “...the business of war. Currently we are supplying arms to the Juela fleet, who are at war with the Magarrian Empire. They are for the most part, boycotting our factories... which is a shame really, but understandably so. The Shiv Unity are supporting our enemy logistically yet have not joined them in active combat." He walked around his desk swirling the brown liquid round and round as he talked. "We are trying to coax Osteri aggression, but they have occupied themselves in... other endeavours and don't seem as willing as usual to assault Magar territories.” The spacer frowned and feigned curiosity. “Why would you suppose that be?” He interjected. “We are not sure... don't interrupt me, you break my train of thought.” The banker lied and it did not escape his attention. “Continue by all means.” He waved a bottle at the executive leaning back into a comfy black leather chair. “If we get the upper hand in this war we could control vital Magar territories, the profits our companies could absorb from the moons and planets would be virtually tax free and help to continue fund the war effort...” Emilien cut him off with a snide sarcasm. “How philanthropic. I watch your news propaganda...” Emilien slowly sat upright and uncannily performed like a popular Juel news anchor. “Breaking news. The Magar Empire are allegedly oppressing... slaves, it is reported that the war has driven them to desperation and are driving their labour forces harder than what is... morally justifiable. Any petitions made or pleas for leniency, no matter how trivial is met with... corporal punishment. We must be vocal about their plight and fight for... freedom and liberty. You are with The Report. See you next time, and remember, peace everywhere for all.” He mockingly mimics a news anchor's plastic monotone while folding up and shifting around imaginary papers. The secretary sniggered softly from behind her desk, Dierre frowned. Emilien slouched back into his chair. “What would you have me do boss?” The banker remained silent. “Excuse me one moment.” Dierre touched a pad on his desk, privacy panels slid up separating Dierre from his guest and the lady. He opened comms to an unknown voice. Emilien auto tuned up his sonic receptors slightly and closed his eyes listening in uninvited but inconspicuously. "Yes Dierre, make it quick." “Right, good afternoon sir. I am not sure about this character, Mr Emilien, should we not rather employ one of our own for this contract.” “What? No! There is no one else with the expertise and or reputation required for this investment. He has no prior affiliation to us no, no record. Dierre, just hire the man and stop whining like a little bitch! I don't need this type of crap. This was prearranged, what I don’t need is uncalled for opinionated inputs. We have made the decision and you, you explain what we require of them. So explain to the space clone what we need him to do and how much we are going to pay him for it!” The silence was awkward. “Wh... Yes sir.” The banker was keeping good composure under the condescending circumstances. Emilien smiled, a sly joy filling his soulless being. The comms line closed and the privacy panels retreated into the floor to reveal to the banker Emilien, sitting there grinning like an idiot. “How much are you going to pay me?” “Don't you want to know details of the job concerned?” “No. Just show me the figures in sat.” The director handed him a pad. Emilien looked at the glowing screen, his smiled recurred. “I accept this mission.” He glanced over at the secretary who was unassumingly recording minutes at her desk. “Doing anything tonight sweetheart?” She grimaced. Emilien stood up, “Dierre my good fellow I have to go, need to prepare for whatever it is you corpo scumbags are going to make me do.” “Don't you want to know the details involved?” “Send the info to my pod.” “It is sensitive information.” Emilien indifferently stared at Dierre. “I have a secure line... bitch.” Disbelief shot across his face.

He walked out of the room, looked back grinning an impossibly large grin and winked at the lady. “See you later sweetheart.” She quickly had the door slide closed. "That was unsettling." She mumbled to herself.

...

scifi

@ 45bda953:bc1e518e

Kaspa Empire - Ceb System - Planet Hithe III

The day was hot and the manor sounded eerily quiet compared to the hustle and commotion of the hours prior. On the estate and in the master bedroom specifically, a married pair had become parents. “He looks so much like you Domitius.” Cleolia remarked while stroking the newborn's tiny arms. “He has strong blood.” The father responded smiling fondly sitting on the bedside. A silent nurse was tidying up the apparel and instruments of labour while the couple waited patiently for her exit to have more private discourse. “I am so glad to have born you an heir my love.” Domitius stared intently at his offspring. He had no qualms neglecting obligations to his property and recessed momentarily to celebrate the occasion with his wife. “I will send for the priest, register the child as an Imperial citizen and have him scribed into our family archives, but in the meantime, you must recover. Let a servant girl take our son for a while.” She pouted a playful but exhausted look of non compliance. “You must rest.” He insisted. “How can I let him go when I only just met him? Who are you little man?” She smiled faintly and nodded. “You are right, Domitius, where are you going?” “To the fields, the slaves are behind schedule, our harvest is big and taxes are high. This war is taking it's toll, we must excel to adequately serve the Empire in these pressing times. If the tamed Osteri could only comprehend what is at stake.” Cleolia peered cautiously at the embellishment and carvings on the wooden door knowing that Sethari was standing just beyond. Domitius trailed her gaze. “Don't worry my love, he means well, at least he tries to understand the urgency of my affairs.” He stood up straitening his vest and prepared to leave the room. “Domitius, wait...” He stopped at the door. “What will you tell the priest?” Domitius paused. “I will tell him Albin... Albin Domitius Chevalier.”

He left the room and it was quiet, the help entered and swaddled the baby rocking him while Cleolia drifted between sleep and conciousness. “Albin.” She repeated to herself as deep slumber enveloped her.

Domitius and his overseer walked briskly out of the manor towards the grain fields squinting as blue Ceb light reflected off the lanscape. “I honour you on the spawn of your son my lord, I hope for a good strong boy, you will be a happy father. I am happy with Seth.” He pounded his chest softly and proudly. “Thank you Sethari, is your son walking yet?” Domitius queried. “No my lord, still crawling on his belly like a beast.” The headman was trying to make his master laugh though Domitius was in a sterner mood having a weight on conscience. “I am in no mood to jest Sethari.” Domitius suddenly clenched his fists. “Get those slaves to work, I cannot have them idling when they should be harvesting.” Sethari made a small bow to his master and started yelling at his Osteri kinsmen, threatening them with a rolled up whip he procured from somewhere inside his tunic, waving it about and cracking it in the air every so often. Domitius picked up a scythe and proceeded to cleave down large swathes of grain. This had a more compelling effect of rallying the straggling workers to action than did the whip. They all toiled together in the pale light of Ceb.

Domitius was sweating, sweating and praying for a swift victory over the Jeula Federation. Fighting his small part in a increasingly complicated war, loyal to his Empire in his own unique way even though the conflict was far from home. A powerful loyalty that cannot be bought with riches or broken by coercion. A loyalty born through inheritance and blood.

...

The priest was in a more jovial mood than usual. The break of routine was a welcome one. The birth was indeed a momentous occasion. Few things seem of much report in a small planetary expansion program. He did not even seem to mind carrying a keg full of honey mead over the rolling hills of the plantation colony. “Domitius comes to church submissions far to infrequently.” The portly man mumbled to himself while wiping the accumulated sweat from his brow. “I eat too well among all these farmers.” The habit of speaking to himself was ordinary for this man of the cloth who always felt socially disconnected from his flock, caring for their souls, protecting their dignity and general well being like a responsible patron. “I feed their spirits, they feed my body, Hahaha. Tonight I will share my good spirits! Hahahaha.” Impressed by his own sense of humour he turned to witness the majestic blue star set over the skyline. Everything turned a silvery gray hue, and then the stars broke through the atmosphere lighting his way. “Clear skies, the blessed stars guide me.” He continued on the path approaching the Domitian manor and rapped a quick knock on the side of the root cellar doors. It creaked open upwards and a tall muscular Osteri took his baggage and let him in. “Thank you Setharis, my arms are weary, ready to fall off, bless you.” Domitius looked up from his bench seat below a glowing lantern. “Good to see you Father Ecknard.” “Dispense with the formalities and bring the dispenser.” He motioned to Setharis who placed the heavy keg on a table next to an assortment of documents, quill and sealed inkpot. “You pour Setharis and I will write. Name?” Ecknard scratches his chin with the quill contemplating his seat and it’s adequacy for the prolonged exercise of scribble. “Name?” Domitius paused. “Albin Domitius Chevalier.” The priest focused, started with his calligraphic art and fashioned the name and ASN standard block height beautifully onto the family records all the while biting his tongue. “He will inherit the colonial estates, all your assets in Kaspa Prime and the parochial offices at Magar Prime. Correct?” “Yes.” Replied Domitius solemnly. “I'll soon have to amend your will and testament. I'd have to make a registry at the parish and send correspondence to Magar Prime. There would be many from the royal courts who'll send their best regards from afar when this news becomes public.” Domitius did not seem as enthusiastic as Ecknard would have liked. “What ails you Domitius?” The priest could not help but make the pun and restrained a grunted laugh inside himself.

“I wonder if we should wait before registering and announcing him to Empire.” Ecknard’s expression slowly changed to puzzlement sitting up straight, his belly pushing on the heavy table. “In the voids name why?” “I am concerned... about this war...” “It is on the other side of Magar space!” The priest interjected in astonished retort. “I know father, maybe I am just being overly cautious, but with the Magar Dominus fleet occupied at the divide I am worried about the colonies in the isolated regions.” “Surely Kaspa prime will spare no expense to our defence in the improbable event of an invasion.” “The core keepers will not allow foul play from the Jeul.” “Yes Ecknard, but the fleet is not capable because most of our ships are at the aforementioned objective!” “No, no, no. Suggesting that conflict would happen outside of the divide is practically blasphemy. I cannot imagine insubordination to the Core mandates and the Accords." Domitius remained silently astute and father Ecknard decided to not argue further with the lord. His shoulders sagged. “I will not register the boy in the Imperial records.” “Thank you father.” “What do you know that I fail to see Domitius.” The two men stared at each other from across the table. The hulking bodyguard ever present in body but semi ignorant in mind silently and intriguingly observing the discussion.

“The value of sat. It is not calculated well by the common people, no offence father.” The priest piously lifted his hand and with tilted brow motioned. “None taken.” “My son and our blood line is invested with empiric power, if opportunists become aware of his existence and being outside the Magar prime void, we might have problems here on Hithe III.” Cumbersome thoughts and machinations of the mind darkened the mood of the party. Not at all what Father Ecknard was projecting in his minds eye during his arduous walk to what he was hoping, a celebration and getting drunk with an old friend. “The war does not seem to be ending any time soon, how long shall we stall his registration?” The priest reasoned on. “Think of the rites he will not be allowed to partake in at the church. He will be like Osteri.” Ecknard gestured towards Sethari. “This is a small colony Ecknard. My son will be educated as a member of royalty, all on Hithe III will acknowledge his social standing, I am only concerned that the secret be kept from the outside worlds. He will never be considered Osteri, he will know who he is and what his position is in the greater void. When the war is over we will properly introduce him to the families, currently they would be too occupied with politic as it is, and might not offer him due ceremony as they would under more peaceable circumstances.” The priest capitulated and grabbed a mug. “Your secret is safe with me Domitius, the lack of technology on this forsaken planet is good for your purposes, seeing as the only comms service on the planet is in the church tower. That blinking comms station hounds me daily with requests for your return to Magar Prime. The high counsel want to rebalance and need your signature.” Domitius sighed and looked away as if some spectre loomed in front of him.

I swear silence on the birth my lord, though let me make a final amendment to your proposal. A bit of extra security shall I say.” Domitius filled a cup of mead for Sethari and himself, becoming more relaxed and hospitable. “I am listening.” “If the risks are as great as you assume, let us pretend for the child's sake that he is Kaspian royalty only, and not true Magar. We then continue his education to the full and not put him in a position where he could compromise himself should he be... void forbid, captured by some opportunistic prospector.” Domitius looked ponderously into his cup. “Ecknard, my son is an infant... If we have to keep the boy in the dark about the true nature of his identity, how long do you predict this war to continue?” Father Ecknard leaned forward... “I sit at the comms desk every night and listen to the chatter. This war... is going to be a long one.”

...

scifi

@ 975e4ad5:8d4847ce

The Origin of the Name “Bitcoin”

The name “Bitcoin” is a blend of “bit” (a unit of information in computing) and “coin” (a currency). Satoshi Nakamoto chose this name to highlight the digital nature of the currency, which exists entirely on a blockchain—a decentralized network immune to central control. The name is short, memorable, and reflects the project’s philosophy: money that is both technological and universal.

Satoshi decided to divide 1 Bitcoin into 100 million smaller units, named “satoshis” in his honor. This wasn’t arbitrary. Nakamoto foresaw that Bitcoin could become extremely valuable, as we see today, with 1 BTC worth around $100,000 (as of May 2025). Dividing the currency into such tiny fractions ensures flexibility: even if Bitcoin’s price reaches millions, people can use satoshis for small transactions, like buying coffee or paying network fees.

Why 100 Million Satoshis?

Satoshi’s decision to make 1 BTC equal 100,000,000 satoshis was visionary. He drew inspiration from traditional currencies, where 1 dollar splits into 100 cents, but went further. With a maximum supply of 21 million Bitcoins, the total number of satoshis is 2.1 quadrillion (2,100,000,000,000,000). This number may sound massive, but it was carefully chosen to provide enough units for future microtransactions without compromising the currency’s sense of scarcity.

If Bitcoin’s supply were framed as 2.1 quadrillion “bitcoins” instead of 21 million, it would create a false impression of abundance. Psychologically, people perceive smaller numbers as more valuable and rare. 21 million feels like a true limit, while quadrillions seem almost infinite, which would undermine Bitcoin’s core value proposition: scarcity, akin to gold.

The Benefits of Satoshis

Satoshis are the backbone of Bitcoin’s flexibility. They enable:

• Microtransactions: Satoshis make payments as small as fractions of a cent possible, which is crucial for Bitcoin’s future as a global currency. In countries with low purchasing power, satoshis can be used for everyday purchases.

• Network Fees: On-chain Bitcoin transactions require fees, often less than 1 BTC. Satoshis allow precise fee calculations without dealing with decimal fractions.

• Accessibility: Even if 1 BTC costs $1 million, anyone can afford to buy satoshis. For example, $10 is roughly 100,000 satoshis at current prices, making Bitcoin accessible to all.

Beyond practical benefits, satoshis carry cultural weight. The phrase “stacking sats” has become a rallying cry in the Bitcoin community, symbolizing long-term investment and belief in the currency’s future. This expression is so iconic that removing the term “satoshi” would be like erasing part of Bitcoin’s identity.

Lightning Network and Satoshis

The Lightning Network, a layer-2 solution for Bitcoin, has made satoshis even more vital. This network enables fast and cheap transactions that don’t settle directly on the blockchain (off-chain). Due to low fees and small amounts, Lightning transactions are typically measured in satoshis, not Bitcoin. For example, a payment of 0.0001 BTC (10,000 satoshis) is common in Lightning, while on-chain transactions often involve larger sums, measured in BTC.

This distinction—Bitcoin for on-chain and satoshis for Lightning—is not only practical but also logical. On-chain transactions are slower and costlier, suited for large transfers or long-term storage (“HODLing”). Lightning is for everyday payments, where satoshis shine. Renaming satoshis to “bitcoin” would blur this distinction, causing confusion. Would you say, “I have 1 million bitcoins in my Lightning channel”? That sounds absurd and undermines the clarity the current system provides.

Why Renaming Is a Bad Idea

The idea of calling 1 satoshi a “bitcoin” and abandoning the term “bitcoin” for the whole unit has several serious flaws:

1. User Confusion: People accustomed to 1 BTC = $100,000 will be shocked to hear that 1 “bitcoin” is now worth 0.01 cents. New users won’t understand why “bitcoin” is so cheap, while veterans will struggle to recalculate their holdings. This could lead to errors, scams, or even loss of trust.

2. Technical Chaos: Wallets, exchanges, merchants, and software would need to overhaul their interfaces. Some platforms might stick to the old nomenclature, creating inconsistencies. Imagine an exchange showing “1 bitcoin = $0.01” while another uses “1 BTC = $100,000.” The result? Total chaos.

3. Cultural Loss: Satoshi is a tribute to Satoshi Nakamoto, whose vision changed the world. Erasing his name is disrespectful to his legacy. Moreover, phrases like “stacking sats” would vanish, weakening the community’s spirit.

4. Psychological Impact: 2.1 quadrillion “bitcoins” sound like an endless supply, undermining the idea of scarcity. In contrast, 21 million Bitcoins reinforce the sense of rarity, which is key to the currency’s value.

5. No Real Benefit: Satoshis are already a functional unit. Wallets can display amounts in satoshis, mBTC, or dollars without changing the protocol. Renaming solves no real problem—it just creates new ones.

Alternatives to Renaming

Instead of upending Bitcoin’s nomenclature, we can make the currency more accessible by:

• Education: Teach people they can buy fractions of a Bitcoin, even just a few satoshis. This removes the psychological barrier of a high price.

• Better Interfaces: Wallets can display amounts in satoshis or local currency for easier understanding. For example, instead of “0.0001 BTC,” an app could show “10,000 satoshis” or “$10.”

• Promoting Lightning Network: Encouraging the use of satoshis in Lightning will make Bitcoin more practical for daily payments.

• Communication: Emphasize that Bitcoin is like gold—you don’t buy a whole bar, but grams. This makes the currency more approachable to newcomers.

Bitcoin is more than a currency—it’s an idea that changed the world. The name “Bitcoin” and its satoshis are integral to that idea. Satoshi Nakamoto designed the system with the future in mind, giving us a currency that is both scarce and flexible. Renaming satoshis to “bitcoin” is a marketing stunt with no technical merit, risking trust, clarity, and Bitcoin’s culture. Instead of changing what works, let’s focus on education and innovation to make Bitcoin even more accessible. Let’s keep stacking sats and preserve the spirit of Satoshi!