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Grand Rapids, MN

2012.07.11 18:07 darkfalz Grand Rapids, MN

For the only Grand Rapids that matters, not that craphole in Michigan.

2009.09.16 23:41 The Twin Cities - the front page of Minneapolis and St. Paul

/twincities is the most popular general content subreddit for all of Minnesota! Primary focus is on the Twin Cities of Minneapolis and St. Paul and surrounding suburbs.

2012.03.01 19:22 SicTim Subreddit for the City of Saint Paul, Minnesota

A place to post anything related to Saint Paul, MN, USA

2023.05.29 00:46 catlover9955_ Blendon Woods dog death incident (TW: violent death of dogs) - HAVE YOU SEEN THESE DOGS?

Blendon Woods dog death incident (TW: violent death of dogs) - HAVE YOU SEEN THESE DOGS?
Sparrow - black lab puppy Secret - 11 month old GSD Soul - Golden retriever Sonic - young border collie puppy
Hello! Former Columbus resident here, and I am posting to raise awareness and hopefully get some answers and justice for Sonic, Secret, Soul, and Sparrow.
On Wednesday, May 24th Brooke Herres, a dog Instagram influencer heavily involved with the local dog sports community claimed she was at Blendon Woods with her 5 dogs. After they were done, she loaded her dogs in the car and took the 5th dog, Scarlett to potty one more time, leaving the other 4 dogs in the car. When she came back, less then 5 minutes later - her car was gone with all 4 dogs. Shortly later, she claimed to find the car with one dog Secret (the GSD) dead from heat stroke at another park. Several hours later, she found the rest of the dogs dead from gun shot wounds. She started a GoFundMe me, raising over $5K, claiming Sparrow (the lab puppy) was her service dog prospect, and she needed $$$ for a new service dog. The next day, she claims that she was kicked out of her house, and went to stay with a friend who is also involved in the dog community, that friend claims she did not have any of the supposedly deceased dogs with her, only Scarlett, the surviving dog and a new puppy.
Shortly after, people in the dog community started questioning her story, and it has rapidly been unraveling since. Both rangers and police say no such incident took place, local journalists have looked into it, the incident did not happen. She claims that she made a report to a ranger, but said ranger was actually “impersonating” a ranger. If a carjacking turned quadruple dog homicide actually happened, this would be local and and national news. There is a lot more screenshots and info that I could include, but this is the gist of the story and relevant info.
This leaves the main question - WHERE ARE THE DOGS? What is she covering up with this story? Per the person she was living with she only only has two dogs with her, the surviving dog that was not in the car, and a new puppy she obtained the night this incident happened after she alleges the dogs were killed. The person she was living with was told that she dumped the dogs bodies in a lake, as she couldn’t afford cremation!
I am holding onto some hope that this was an elaborate money grab, and the dogs are still alive somewhere. I am hoping that this post will get their faces and story out there, as well as Brooke’s name and face who may be on the prowl for more pets. These dogs may have been dumped at local shelters and rescues!
submitted by catlover9955_ to Columbus [link] [comments]

2023.05.29 00:35 Cornconic Please read this. I'm all out of options and I desperately need your help.

To whom it may concern: this message is of the utmost importance. Please do not disregard it. I don’t know for sure what website you’ll be seeing this on, whoever you are. Probably something submission-based, hopefully one where it stays up. Regardless, it is imperative that you keep reading. I’ll explain why soon, but before I do, some context is in order.
My brother was a brilliant man. Brilliantly talented, brilliantly clever. It was difficult growing up in his shadow. We were raised in the same nurturing, middle-upper class environment, with two loving parents that encouraged us at every turn, but it seemed there was nothing I could do that he wouldn’t outshine me at. He was no savant, you see. Julian held his own in any situation, whether that be an exam or a party with friends. Hardly ever was he not the smartest person in the room, or the most popular.
Needless to say, I was a jealous sibling. My main source of bother was academic performance. I’m not an idiot, even in comparison to my brother, but I was an underachiever for a long period of my adolescence. I’m not sure what I’d attribute it to. Hanging around the wrong people, perhaps, having my head in the clouds, something like that. I’ve always been intelligent, but for a while I really struggled to knuckle down and use that intellect. For so long, I heard the same tired expression: “if you’d only apply yourself…” I’m sure some of you reading this can relate. It wasn’t until many years later that that sentiment really rang true.
I never outright hated Julian, but I have to admit there was invariably a growing seed of resentment in my heart for him, especially as we got older and his natural aptitude really began to shine. We both had an interest in computer science from a young age, most likely inherited from our father, who worked for Microsoft before they went out of business. I still remember those nights as kids when he’d sit us down in front of his computer and show us all the little intricacies of the code he was working on. Any other children our age would be bored out of their skulls, but there we sat, attentive as ever, our developing minds fascinated by the job’s seemingly endless possibilities. Julian’s other main curiosity, which I did not share, was an affinity towards online horror fiction, though he grew out of that kind of stuff in his late teens.
He knew I had a chip on my shoulder. Mostly, he was apathetic towards it; we were never estranged, but he wasn’t going to let my discontent get in the way of his success. Though I don’t blame him, I suppose that was always Julian’s downfall. He was just too headstrong, too confident.
When we became adults, we parted ways. He went on to study at Harvard while I ended up dropping out of some bang-average local university you won’t have heard of. Following that, things were a little rough. My parents were fairly disappointed. They didn’t cut me off, rather, interacting with them became a depressing chore as they waited for their son to get his life together. At family gatherings, I gritted my teeth at the stories Julian told: developing virtual reality hardware, cutting-edge stuff, pushing the boundaries of the way we interact with technology, all while I was couch-surfing, barely making ends meet as the IT guy at a shitty school in a town I hated. It only made the prospect of snapping out of whatever haze I was in feel more difficult.
It all changed one day soon after I got my first apartment. Julian showed up out of the blue on a dewy morning with an armful of equipment and a huge, beaming smile on his face. I let him in, we talked, and he promised that what he was going to show me would completely blow my mind.
I watched as he paced about my living room setting up all his gadgetry. As soon as everything was ready, he switched on my computer and handed me a thin, plastic headset with exposed wires. Two nodes hung from either side of the thing, which fitted snugly over my temples. While I sat back on the sofa and stared at the monitor before me, he gave me one simple instruction.
“Type something into Google.”
“But I don’t have a keyboard.”
“You don’t need one.”
According to Julian’s wishes, I simply thought about the action, and it happened. The word “something” came up in the search box, and my jaw dropped open in shock. At first, I thought the obvious, that my brother was purposefully fooling me with some kind of prank or gimmick, but repeated tests all came up with the same result. And it wasn’t just searching I could do telepathically, but anything. Literally anything I could think of, limited to the capabilities of the computer, of course. I had total control. There was even a sort of projection in my mind’s eye as it was happening, like the process was actually occurring inside my brain. It wasn’t perfect, but it was nothing short of amazing.
“You’re one of the first people to try it,” he told me once I’d tested everything out. “We’re calling it NeuroWorks, or something to that effect.”
I don’t think that feeling of astonishment ever truly left me. It was then that I realised my petty indignation, the dissatisfaction I felt after so many years of being outclassed, meant nothing in the face of my brother’s achievements, and I would be doing the world a disservice by failing to assist him. Julian departed that night after some drinks and a few laughs, and the next day, I enrolled once again for a degree in computer science. Four years later, I passed with flying colours, and Julian hired me to work for him at his company. There may have been a bit of nepotism involved, but that’s neither here nor there.
The next few years were dizzying. During the time in which I was getting (re)educated, Julian had been working with a team of elite neuroscientists, specialists that filled in the gaps in his knowledge, did all the things he couldn’t. Immediately, I felt I was in way over my head, but as my learning advanced, I gradually got up to speed, and my mood improved quite rapidly. That feeling of pride, like I was finally doing something productive with my life, was nothing short of fantastic, especially in the face of so many wasted years. I was never quite on Julian’s level, of course, but with enough time, I grew to be a valued contributor to the NeuroWorks project. Off the back of a long period of arduous work, the device fully came to fruition, culminating in an international commercial release.
It was a global success, and we made a fortune. Once we’d fully optimised it, it ended up being surprisingly cheap to produce and implement. The result was its adoption in billions of households and businesses. As expected, it completely changed the way we live and work in the virtual world. Worldwide productivity and efficiency increased tenfold. Even now, I’m typing this message with those same two nodes attached at either side of my head, hands-free. As cliched as it sounds, at that point, it truly felt like we were living in the future.
Honestly, I would’ve been happy to stop there. I could’ve moved somewhere green and sunny, spent the rest of my days doing TED Talks and sipping cocktails on the balcony of a villa, not giving a single damn. But not Julian. Like always, Julian had his eyes set on further horizons, on the subsequent stretch of progress. No sooner than a few months after NeuroWorks was released did he come up with his next magnificent idea.
“Consciousness splicing.”
That was how he described it on the day he first sat me down to try and explain. We were outside a café, some pretentious, gentrified establishment in the heart of London, with a coffee each.
“The next stage of human learning, or maybe even existence as a whole. NeuroWorks, compared to this…it’s just a stepping stone, Alex,” he told me. “If we get this right, we won’t just be able to use computers with our minds, we’ll be able to think like them, too.”
I struggled to wrap my head around the concept. “How do you mean, exactly?” I replied.
“Take what makes us sentient. Our minds, our passion, our free will. Everything a machine lacks. How can it be improved? How can it be bettered? What we lack naturally, we as a species, I mean, can be found in a computer. The processing power, the boundless memory, the objectivity. Not to mention the ability to conjure up any kind of information on a whim, the entire collective library of human knowledge, dating back thousands of years. But there are limitations. Computers can’t truly think for themselves. Not yet, anyway. They require input, direction. If we can intersect the strengths of man and machine, cross the gap that separates us…”
He was stirring his drink all the while. Julian had a thing about that: he could never look at you directly when he was thinking, like the image of your baffled face would put him off somehow.
“Okay, but you’re talking purely in theoretical terms, right? We’re centuries off reaching that point. I mean, creating a neural link between a person and Mac OS is one thing-
“I think it’s possible.”
A beat passed before he sighed, grabbed a napkin, and produced a pen from his pocket. I waited as he sketched out a crude, yet complicated diagram. I can’t recall it exactly – it was something to do with the relationship between time, space, and information. Far more philosophical than scientific, I remember thinking.
“The internet is a powerful beast. Our means of controlling it, of accessing it, even with NeuroWorks, are subpar. We just need another breakthrough, and then that could open the door for who knows what else. Traversing through decades online, going back and forth whenever we want-
“Easier said than done.”
“But it could be possible. It could.”
“I disagree. Not in our lifetimes, anyway. And even if it is, it sounds…dangerous. Very dangerous. The number of things that could go wrong, the variables…it doesn’t bear thinking about. We don’t want to get too far ahead of ourselves. Let’s learn to walk before we run, eh?”
He was quiet after that. The conversation stuck with me for the next couple of years. We were working mostly on maintaining NeuroWorks at that time, delivering a steady stream of updates and enhancements as society began to mold itself around its advent. There was some discussion as to when the next big leap forward would be, the next huge announcement from Julian’s company, but he remained tight-lipped about anything regarding that.
It was then that he started acting…weird. I saw him less and less in what was supposed to be our spare time together. The cancelled reservations and missed family events added up, but whenever I asked him about it, he just shrugged it off. “I’m a workaholic,” he would say. “You know you all mean the world to me, but so does this job.” I tried to comfort myself with that, but deep down, I think I knew he was hiding something. Something he thought would worry me, that was outside my area of expertise. I was going to confront him about it eventually. I just ended up waiting too long.
One night, he rang me out of nowhere. I remember shooting straight up into a sitting position in a pitch-black room – I think I’d been having a nightmare. The metallic surface of my phone was cold and smooth in my sweaty palm as I picked up the call and pressed it to my temple.
“Meet me at this address in half an hour. And be quick.”
I spoke a word or two in return, but the call had already ended. There was a soft blip, and some postcode I didn’t recognise appeared at the top of the screen.
Doing exactly as my brother asked, I got up, got changed, and made the 20-minute journey by car.
The place was a run-down warehouse in one of the rougher areas of town, where property prices were at their cheapest. I parked up and stepped outside, shivering as I cursed myself for not having the foresight to bring a thicker jacket. It wasn’t immediately obvious which building I was looking for, until I saw a flash of light through a broken window in the distance. Cautiously, I approached it, glancing around to assure myself I wasn’t walking into a trap, as stupid as that thought was. The main door being completely boarded up meant an obscured gap in the brickwork was my entry point.
Dodging the tiny droplets of water trickling in from the broken ceiling, I rounded a corner. The main, spacious area of the warehouse had been kitted out as a kind of makeshift workshop, near identical to a setup from NeuroWorks. It was as if someone had carved out one of our labs and dumped it here, beside walls of crumbling paint. My brow was furrowed as I stared from a distance at the scurrying scientists, who flicked me awkward looks as they went about tending to a central apparatus. I recognised a few of them, but they paid me little mind. I’m sure they knew I was coming.
It took me a few moments to realise, but Julian was part of the almighty cluster of machinery in the middle of it all. His body was a biological cog in an otherwise artificial setup; he was on his back, head tilted slightly forwards, arms splayed in a t-pose like he was being crucified. I’ll never get that image out of my head: him lying there, not having quite noticed me yet, sweat upon his brow. He was shirtless, too, wires running up and down his arms and a mesh inserted atop his shaved head, which was next to a monitor. The wires came down in gangly clumps off the side of the ‘bed’ he was on and fed into this gargantuan hunk of steel by his side. It was truly massive, topped with blinking lights and seemingly missing its outer casing. If I didn’t know better, I’d have assumed he’d been kidnapped and experimented on.
He looked at me, directly upwards from his perspective, and said, “You’re late,” through a smile.
I wasn’t smiling. “Julian, what the fuck is all of this?”
“I apologise for not telling you sooner. Truth be told, I didn’t want you to worry. But this is too important for you not to see.”
I was at a loss for words.
“What we’re going to do here, today, right now, will change the course of humanity. And you need to be here to witness it. So get ready. We’re starting!
He shouted that last sentence, and all the scientists in the room shuffled to what could only be described as their ‘posts’. I merely watched as they started a countdown sequence of sorts, dutifully coordinating the machine through a large control panel. They communicated with short, snappy gestures and mumbled technobabble that I could barely pay attention to. Instinctively, I stepped back until I was at an arbitrarily ‘safe’ distance.
Seconds later, my mouth turned dry and a quiet ringing in my ears began to form. I chalked it up to nerves initially, but it soon became apparent there was some kind of static in the air, palpable interference that manifested in a painful shock as my hand grazed the shiny edge of a worksurface. It seemed to be emanating from the middle of the room, where Julian was. His eyes were closed now, tightly; he gave the impression of someone concentrating very intently on something.
There was a hum, so low you almost felt it before you heard it, slowly increasing in pitch. I suddenly had a headache, and I’m almost certain my hair was standing up under the confines of my flat cap. Panic surfaced within me as I noticed the scientists arguing. I shouted a word of protest, only to realise my ears had popped, and the faint ringing from earlier now sounded like a cacophonous bout of tinnitus.
Something was clearly and utterly wrong. Julian’s deathly stillness as he honed his thoughts had ended, and he was now thrashing around, foaming at the mouth, unable to break free of his confines. I ran back over to his side-
“Don’t touch me!” He managed to force out. I could barely hear him, but the crazed look in his eyes, dilated like a cat’s, convinced me to leave him alone. Instead, I focused my attention on the scientists.
“What are you maniacs doing to him?” I yelled. “Fucking switch that thing off! Now!”
One of them came and pushed me away. His mouth was moving, but I couldn’t make out the words. The noise of the machine was just too loud. There was a collective moment of fear as the tone became ear-splitting. No-one could hear anyone anymore.
Julian looked like he was being possessed. My attention was drawn to the monitor beside him; before, it had been inert, but it was currently displaying a fast-moving, almost psychedelic kaleidoscope of uniform shapes and colours. If you’ve ever seen what a computer looks like when you remove its RAM while it’s running, it was like that, but even more erratic and animated. I was practically hypnotised by it, and as I gazed further and further into its depths, an awful image began to emerge.
It was Julian. I swear to god, I know it sounds crazy, but Julian’s face materialised in the form of this…nightmarish coalescence of text and code. His mouth was open, and his eyes were bulging out of his skull. I turned to my brother to see him doing the exact same expression there on the table, unable to breathe. It made me feel sick to my stomach.
Suddenly, the machine shut down, taking the monitor’s display and oppressive interference with it. Julian’s eyes glazed over, his face went pale as a sheet, and he slumped down onto his back, letting out a huge exhale. It was when he didn’t take another breath that two white-coated men went to check his pulse.
A single head shake between them confirmed what I feared. Gone.
I think I was in shock the whole rest of the night, because I didn’t speak a word to anyone until the morning. They sent me home in a taxi and promised to take care of what had happened. I burst into furious, bitter tears as soon as I put the keys in the door. I was so, so angry at being kept in the dark and lied to for so long, with this having been the culmination. Little did I know that was just the beginning.
Julian’s team called me into work the next day for a private meeting. To maintain the company’s work and appearance, they were going to sweep the whole thing under the rug. Fucking figures, I remember thinking. My first urge, naturally, was to fight this burial, to expose them and bring about some sense of justice, but I was talked down from it. You might call me cowardly for that, but put yourself in my shoes for a minute; I had no real evidence at hand, and it soon became apparent that the scientists were only operating under my brother’s command. Everything had been planned out in advance, even the system that was being followed now, for what would happen if a fatal accident occurred. Telling the world the true events of that night would’ve been a losing battle – already, they’d began cleaning up their mess – demolishing the warehouse lab, scrubbing all evidence from the archives, etc. It was a tough call, but I felt compelled to adhere to my brother’s wishes and keep moving forward with NeuroWorks. You can judge me for that if you want, but I don’t care.
I forgave them all over time. It wasn’t even really their fault Julian had died that night – there’d been a freak malfunction with the equipment, leading to them being unable to turn it off. I won’t go too in-depth; there’s a lot about it that I still don’t understand to this day. Anyway, once the dust had settled, we put the incident behind us and gave up the whole ‘cutting-edge’ angle for a while. We started pursuing safer technological ventures like media creation, but that was when something strange began happening.
You see, Julian’s cause of death seemed obvious initially – most likely a heart attack or stress-related aneurysm – but the autopsy revealed something startling. There was little to no internal damage anywhere in his body: no burst blood vessels or spasmed arteries. Rather, all the electrical signals in his body had simply vanished simultaneously, deactivating his brain. It was as if he had literally been switched off.
None of this ever got out, of course. NeuroWorks, now one of the most valuable, powerful companies of all time, made sure of that. Julian’s death was publicly credited as a stroke due to undetected high cholesterol levels. But it’s certainly interesting considering what came after.
Over the next few weeks, we had virus troubles. A malicious software was making its way through our computer system. There was a bit of a panic to begin with; an internal investigation revealed we had far too much unsecured data that anyone working for a market competitor would be happy to steal and sell to the highest bidder, but the more we found out about it, the more curious we became. The strange thing about it was only partly what it did. Corruption and deletion are pretty bog-standard as far as viruses go, but its effects were largely patternless, like it was picking items at complete random. But it was also when it was doing it. After some research, we found that people had been complaining about this mystery malware they’d designated as ‘WerStar’ (due to the word apparently repeating itself over and over again in damaged code and text boxes) since the beginning of the internet. Despite this, its existence had never been formally documented anywhere, which is extremely bizarre. Whatever WerStar is, it’s completely transcendent of time.
We think we know what’s going on, though. We had our ideas to begin with, and there were plenty of skeptics amongst us, but a recent event has all but verified it. A couple of months ago, I found a .txt file on my computer that wasn’t there the day before, entitled ‘WerStargift’. It was an enormous mass of code that took weeks to fully analyse. Delving into the nitty gritty of the whole thing would take forever, but from what we’ve been able to glean from it (and I promise I’m being serious when I say this), it’s a formula for communicating virtually with the past.
Which brings us to today. Well, our today. We’re sending this message from the year 2050 to what we’ve calculated to be the mid-2010s. Myself and Julian should only be little children. Don’t worry, this isn’t some Terminator-style mission to erase or alter a former timeline. We just need you to tell us something.
The code wasn’t the only thing in the .txt file. There was a message, a message we can’t read. It’s been cobbled together on an old, outdated editor that isn’t compatible with the modern NeuroWorks setup anymore. Believe me, we’ve tried everything, but not even old computers will display it. We think our failure to view it is the whole reason we’re even able to talk to you now. In your time, it should still be legible. You may need to do something with it, view it through a Source editor, perhaps, but it won’t be hard to decipher.
You should be able to communicate with us, too. Hopefully. We’ve tested this with random forums – dozens of messages we made that were supposedly sent in 2012, and had people respond to them in that same year. We’re well aware of the danger associated with this, but at the same time, it’s the only chance we’ve got.
I’m going to wrap this up by apologising. I’m sorry that I haven’t been more specific throughout this message; there’s a lot I’ve glossed over in the pursuit of keeping things relatively short. Maybe this is just a lost cause – the technology we’re using is still extremely unrefined, so there’s a chance this might not even get out there. But it’s been 10 years since Julian ‘died’, and I’d give anything to be able to see my brother again. If this works, if we’re able to somehow establish contact, then we may even be able to reverse the process, to find him a human host.
So, please, for the love of God, please, what does it say? Where is Julian?
submitted by Cornconic to nosleep [link] [comments]

2023.05.29 00:20 ineedabettertitle I'm a homicide detective. My latest case is the most disturbing I've ever come across.

My radio came to life, as sound crackled through the speakers. "Immediate assistance needed at the park on Grande Ave. Unidentified woman attacked and in critical condition."
Grande Ave was only a couple of blocks away. I turned the car's ignition on, and picked up the radio and while clicking the side button. "Copy that. On my way now. Any information as to the nature of the attack?"
"That's a negative." Was the distorted reply.
I backed the car out onto the road, and made the short journey to Grande Ave. Even from the distance I could hear the wail of other first responders quickly heading over there as well. Whatever the problem was, it seemed to be big. After a few minutes, I pulled up to the scene and with a quick flash of my badge, crossed the police tape.
I made my way past the ambulances and other first responder vehicles to where a group of people, dressed in their correlating uniforms, stood huddled around a singular area. A police officer looked back and seemed to recognize me, probably from the academy, and stepped back to let me take a glimpse of what was causing the commotion.
I whistled through my teeth.
There was a woman, lying on the floor. Well, the only way I knew it was a woman was because I was told so. The woman that laid before me was so disfigured, it was impossible to tell what she actually looked like. She was covered in thousands of toothpicks, every single one embedded deeply into her skin. Streams of blood flowed through each incision, coating her entire body red, and covering the ground near her.
And yet she was still alive.
She was very obviously and painfully breathing every couple of seconds. A nearby paramedic informed me that it wouldn't be the case for much longer.
"We can't move her. It just drives the toothpicks into her skin further, which increases the problem. We can't remove them either." He said, solemnly.
"Why not?" I asked.
He looked up at me, and for the first time I saw the fear in his face. "That's just it. We can't. The toothpicks all have a barbed spike on the tip, meaning the only direction they move is downwards, and we don't want that. We've tried to insert a catheter to induce artificial respiration, but we can't get that in." He gestured wildly towards the woman. "There are toothpicks up her damn nose!"
I stared at the woman a while longer. I looked at her chest heave as she struggled to take a breath, before coming back down again, pushing the toothpicks further into her skin, which increased the already alarming rate of blood-flow. I looked at the paramedics who were coming to the slow realization that this person was going to die a slow and painful death. And there was nothing they could do about it.
I had seen many things in my career. But this. This took the cake.
I used to pride myself on staying calm during any situation. I was able to stay stoic and take control of any situation. But this time was different. The brutality of the attack made my insides feel like a swirling mess, threatening to spill out of my mouth if I wasn't careful. Everything about this just seemed so...wrong. The human body wasn't built to be treated like that. There was an internal instinct to run away from this, stemming from a primal fear ingrained into my brain.
But I couldn't. While the situation filled me with such a fear of the unknown, I had to stay. I had a job to do, after all.
I turned back to the paramedic. "How was she found?"
He sighed. "Exactly like she is now. A passer-by called emergency services. We've tried to help her in any way we could. But..." He trailed of the end of his sentence, his gaze shifting into the distance.
"Is there anything else I should know?" I asked.
He looked back at me, but not directly. His eyes appeared foggy and seemed to linger at a faraway point, without really comprehending what he was looking at. Grief, I assumed.
"....uh. Yeah. Yeah. There were a couple of items found beside the body." He finally said.
He left to go get it, and came back with a both small piece of folded paper in his hands and a small silver wristwatch, which he passed onto me.
The watch caught my attention. It seemed familiar.
Well, I suppose all silver chain-link watches with three faces look the same. But this one seemed different, somehow. The weight and the feeling of metal against my palm seemed to awaken a long-forgotten memory in the back of my mind. I could see myself holding this watch, years ago, and sliding it onto my wrist. Or someone else's.
I turned the watch over.
Two simple letters were engraved on the backside of the watch face. Two simple letters that made the color drain out of my face, and made the world seem as if it was collapsing on top of me. Two letters that I had put there, 6 years ago.
Alice Edwards. My sister.
She was presumed missing over 3 years ago, after she left her house to go for an evening jog and never came back, leaving behind a grieving husband and a four year old daughter. The search was given up eventually, there was no leads and no witnesses. How do you begin to find someone who's vanished?
With my mind clouding up with questions, I made my way back to the body. I forced myself to look past the blood and the toothpicks, and the sight of mutilated flesh. I looked at the eyes, the only part of the body not completely covered in toothpicks, and collapsed into fits of tears. Because in that moment I knew. The eyes were bloodshot and lifeless, but I had seen all I needed to.
The woman on the ground before me was my sister.
I thought she was dead, and now I had seen her die. Without even knowing her true identity. I turned my gaze away from her, and from all the others. All of these events were too much to process, and I knew I had to leave the scene, or risk having a breakdown. In that moment the pain was too great, and the tears too strong. I nodded to the police man guarding the tape, and crossed it once more.
As I left, I became aware of a piece of folded paper in my hands, given to me by the paramedic, as it was also found near the body.
I opened it up.
What do you think of my little hedgehog?
If you liked this, don't worry.
My zoo has only just begun.
submitted by ineedabettertitle to nosleep [link] [comments]

2023.05.29 00:11 Lobosolitario219 Compilado de vinhetas da TV Brasileira que até hoje estão incompletas

Olá pessoal, para meu primeiro post nessa comunidade, irei listar uma série de vinhetas de diversas emissoras brasileiras que infelizmente ainda se encontram incompletas na internet. Irei citar vinhetas da Band, Tupi, Manchete, SBT, RedeTV!, Record, TV Cultura (SP), TV Gazeta (SP), TVB Litoral, TV Metrópole (SP), TV Difusora de São Luiz e TV Litoral/RTL.


Top de 8 segundos - (1981):
Só um trecho de 1 segundo dessa vinheta foi encontrado, no vídeo aparece o logo da emissora na época que Walter Clark era seu diretor, ou seja 1981, e um número 6 dentro do mesmo. Não se sabe se esse trecho é de alguma emissora afiliada da Rede que operava no canal 6, ou se é de um Top de 8 segundos, o que é mais provável. Foi feita uma montagem simulando como seria esse Top até o final.
Trecho na íntegra:
Montagem baseada no trecho:

Top de 8 segundos - (1982):
Dessa vinheta só sobrou o áudio, em 1982 quando a Band mudou sua identidade visual agora adotando um tema mais "espacial" eles fizeram uma nova vinheta de Top de 8 segundos com essa temática, um fato é que igual ao Top de 8 segundos de 1980 que está no Youtube este também não possui locução no início. Também feita uma montagem unindo esse áudio com uma mini vinheta feita por um usuário simulando o Top original, mas não se sabe se a original era desse jeito mesmo.
Áudio na íntegra (0:40):
Montagem usando o áudio:


Vinheta interprogramas - (1981):
Dessa vinheta só um trecho de 1 segundo sem áudio foi recuperado, no caso é uma vinheta da época que a Record era do Paulo Machado de Carvalho e Silvio Santos. Aparentemente a vinheta foi feita em scanimate, como as da sua até então emissora irmã TVS (hoje SBT), e nela é possível ver o logo da emissora que precede o famoso logo do arco-íris que estreou em 1982.
Trecho recuperado:

Encerramento da programação - (1982):
Boa parte dessa vinheta foi recuperada, com áudio e imagem, mas infelizmente está incompleta. Um clipe bastante cativante onde eram exibidas imagens da cidade de São Paulo ao som do "Tema de São Paulo" encerrava a programação da emissora paulistana no ano de 1982.
Trecho recuperado da vinheta:

Vinheta interprogramas - (1985):
Dessa aqui também só sobrou o áudio, também não se tem nenhuma descrição de como seria essa vinheta com imagem, a única coisa que dá pra deduzir é que provavelmente essa vinheta tenha sido feita quando o logo da emissora era um arco-íris, pois a semelhança do áudio com os das vinhetas dessa época é muito grande, naquele ano de 1985 a Record mudou seu logotipo, para um conceito mais parecido com os que vieram a partir de 1990 quando Edir Macedo comprou a emissora.
Áudio da vinheta (0:14):


Vinheta de passagem - (1983):
Apenas o áudio dessa vinheta foi recuperado, no caso de uma das primeiras vinhetas da emissora, infelizmente não se tem nem uma descrição de como seria a imagem dela.
Áudio da vinheta (0:00):


Vinheta interprogramas - (1986-1990):
Um trecho de quase 2 segundos e em péssima qualidade da vinheta foi recuperado, encontrado em um institucional da TVB Campinas (hoje TV Thati Campinas), durante o institucional é contada a história da emissora de forma resumida e inclusive é citada a época que a emissora se chamava TV Metrópole e era afiliada da Rede Manchete na região entre 1986 e 1990. No trecho é possível ver um pouco da clássica vinheta de 1983 da Manchete, com o nome da afiliada abaixo.
Institucional com trecho da vinheta (1:56):


Vinheta interprogramas - (1994):
Como outras já citadas até aqui, dessa também só foi recuperado o áudio, no caso ele foi extraído do antigo site "TV Memória" que continha diversos áudios de várias emissoras brasileiras, não se sabe se essa vinheta da então afiliada do SBT foi feita toda em computação gráfica ou com imagens da Baixada Santista, o áudio está em péssima qualidade, mas pelo menos foi recuperado. Também foram feitas 2 montagens imaginando como seria essa vinheta com a imagem, uma usando computação, e outra com imagens da cidade.
Áudio na íntegra:
Montagem com o áudio original (Cidade):
Outra montagem com o áudio (Computação):


Vinhetas diversas - (1996):
Existe uma série de vinhetas da extinta TV Litoral de São Vicente (SP) do ano de 1996 que só possuem registro em áudio no Youtube. Esse acervo possui vinhetas interprogramas, uma chamada do programa "Discutindo a Baixada", vinheta de abertura dos programas Discutindo a Baixada e Esporte por Esporte e até mesmo a vinheta de abertura da programação da emissora. Infelizmente também não se tem nenhuma descrição de como seriam essas vinhetas com imagem. Desse acervo, apenas a abertura do programa Discutindo a Baixada está disponível no Youtube.
Áudio de vinhetas, chamadas e aberturas da TV Litoral/RTL em 1996:
Abertura - Discutindo a Baixada em 1996 (0:48):


Vinheta de Faroeste - TV Itacolomi (anos 50 - anos 60):
Apenas o trecho final dessa vinheta está disponível, a TV Itacolomi foi a emissora ex-integrante da Rede Tupi em Belo Horizonte, inclusive dentre as filiais é a que mais possui vinhetas no Youtube. O trecho em questão foi encontrado em um vídeo feito por Fabiano Braga, um antigo funcionário da emissora, que aparentemente possui vários arquivos raros dela e inclusive nesse mesmo vídeo aparecem outras 2 vinhetas até então inéditas no Youtube na época. No trecho recuperado da vinheta que tem duração de 5 segundos, aparece o indiozinho (mascote da emissora) montado em um cavalo, com armas na cintura e emitindo um grito, então é imaginável que seja um programa relacionado a faroeste. Um outro fato é que frequentemente em BH ocorrem exposições sobre a emissora, e nelas geralmente são exibidas algumas vinhetas da emissora, e através delas várias outras inéditas foram encontradas e gravadas, então possa ser que essa em questão já tenha sido reexibida e ninguém a gravou.
Vídeo com trecho da vinheta perdida (5:01):

Vinheta Tupicolor - Rede Tupi (1972):
Apenas o áudio dessa vinheta foi recuperado, naquele ano iniciaram se aos poucos as transmissões a cores na TV brasileira, então a Rede Tupi criou uma vinheta animada feita para anunciar que o próximo programa seria transmitido em cores, no caso é essa vinheta, mas sua imagem está perdida, segundo o relato de quem gravou a vinheta, ela era feita em desenho animado, onde aparecia um aviãozinho que fazia piruetas que se transformavam em ondas coloridas, com um tom meio psicodélico. E também segundo esse mesmo relato no início aparecia um aviso com o nome "Tupicolor" e reforçando que os equipamentos utilizados seriam da Philips.
Áudio da vinheta:

Abertura da Programação - TV Tupi Rio de Janeiro (1977):
Apenas o áudio dessa vinheta raríssima foi recuperado, no caso é a abertura da TV Tupi do Rio de Janeiro, a gravação é de outubro de 1977, não tenho informações de que se essa abertura ia ao ar pelas outras emissoras da Rede.
Áudio na íntegra:

Vinheta interprogramas - Rede Tupi (anos 70):
Essa vinheta está sem som, no caso trata-se de mais uma vinheta animada da Rede Tupi sem um ano exato, mas sabe-se que foi após 1972, pois o logotipo que aparece nela estreou naquele ano. A vinheta foi encontrada sem som no Youtube, mas fizeram uma montagem colocando o áudio da vinheta Tupicolor nessa vinheta, mas acabou ficando incompatível pois essa vinheta tem 13 segundos, já o áudio da Tupicolor tem 33. Uma outra vinheta foi postada no Youtube com uma qualidade de imagem igual a dessa, meio avermelhada, com baixa resolução e sem áudio, mas essa outra é de 1978, que possui muitas variações de áudio e é bem conhecida, o estilo que o logo aparece no final de ambas as vinhetas (com as formas mais redondas ao invés de formas pontudas como nas vinhetas de 1972-1975) é idêntico, então pode se supor que essa vinhetinha ainda sem som talvez seja de 1978.
Vinheta mixada com o áudio da vinheta Tupicolor:


Vinheta Gazeta Esportiva - (1988):
O único registro que tem dessa vinheta em vídeo é um trecho de 2 segundos exibido em uma chamada do programa, a gravação original foi feita por Danilo Rodrigues (Pedro Janov), mas depois de ter perdido seu antigo canal por conta de problemas relacionados a direitos autorais, o vídeo original sumiu, o único registro desse trecho só existe hoje nesses vídeos de cronologia de vinhetas de programas. Mas existe um outro registro em foto de uma variação dessa vinheta, porém mais rara, no caso uma foto com o logo do Gazeta Esportiva 2ª Edição, da mesma época. Nota-se que a foto vem de uma gravação da TV, pela qualidade de imagem, inclusive essa foto foi achada na logopedia.
Trecho da vinheta perdida em um vídeo de cronologia das vinhetas do programa (0:00):
Logo do Gazeta Esportiva 2ª Edição:

Vinheta Gazeta Esportiva - (1992):
Dessa vinheta só sobrou uma imagem para comprovar sua existência, também encontrada na logopedia.
Imagem da vinheta perdida:

Vinheta Gazeta Esportiva - (1994):
Dessa vinheta só foi recuperado um trecho que foi exibido em uma chamada do programa no ano de 1994.
Chamada com trecho da vinheta (0:07):

Vinheta Gazeta Esportiva - (1996?):
Dessa vinheta não tem nem uma foto, apenas o logo do programa na época, exibido durante uma reportagem do mesmo em 1998, segundo o título, o vídeo é datado de 1997, mas a reportagem é sobre o jogo Itabaiana X Corinthians, que só se enfrentaram uma vez na história, mais precisamente em 1998 pela Copa do Brasil. Uma nova vinheta estrearia naquele ano, então é possível que a vinheta desse vídeo tenha estreado alguns anos antes, segundo a logopedia estreou em 1996.
Reportagem com o logo da vinheta perdida (0:01)

Vinheta Gazeta Esportiva - (1998):
Apenas o trecho final dessa vinheta foi recuperado, provavelmente exibido na volta de intervalo do programa, a gravação original desse vídeo também foi feita por Danilo Rodrigues, e também caiu junto aos outros vídeos de seu antigo canal, mas conseguiram recuperar o trecho também nessas cronologias de vinhetas, detalhe que essa vinheta serviu de base para mais duas vinhetas posteriores do programa, uma de 2000 que também se encontra incompleta e outra de 2004 que está completa no Youtube.
Trecho da vinheta na cronologia (0:08):

Vinheta interprogramas - CNT Gazeta (1999):
Apenas o trecho final dessa vinheta foi recuperado, gravada antes do programa Cadeia Alborghetti. Essa vinheta é muito parecida com a exibida pela CNT Gazeta no ano anterior e que aliás está disponível no Youtube, provavelmente uma das últimas senão a última vinheta de quando a emissora paulista era afiliada da rede paranaense, visando que a afiliação acabou em 2000.
Trecho do programa com a vinheta incompleta no início:

Vinheta Gazeta Esportiva - (2000):
Dessa também apenas o trecho final foi recuperado, aparentemente também exibido na volta de intervalo do programa, mas parece que foi feita uma edição, pois é possível perceber um corte, e a reportagem do vídeo é datada de 2008, mas naquele ano a vinheta já era outra, uma que estreou em 2004 e que ficou no ar até 2010 e como já citei antes está disponível no Youtube. Ambas as vinhetas foram inspiradas na de 1998, pois a estrutura delas é a mesma, só em 2010 que o conceito da vinheta mudou radicalmente, só a trilha sonora que continuou a mesma.
Reportagem do programa em 2008 com o trecho da vinheta de 2000 no início:

Vinheta Jornal da Gazeta - (2000):
Apenas o trecho final da vinheta foi encontrado, inclusive em péssima qualidade, provavelmente usado na volta de intervalo do jornal, e provavelmente a primeira vinheta do programa desde 1995, quando deixou de ser exibido por conta da afiliação da Gazeta com a paranaense CNT.
Trecho recuperado:

Vinheta interprogramas - (2000):
Essa vinheta é uma incógnita, mas se realmente existiu, só uma foto sobrou dela. Em 2000 após o fim da afiliação com a CNT, a Gazeta teve que criar um logotipo provisório, porque provavelmente o definitivo (aquela letra G prateada que durou até 2014) ainda não estava pronto, o logo consistia somente no nome "TV Gazeta" em 3D, com o "TV" substituindo o nome da CNT que ocupava esse espaço do logo como visto nas vinhetas anteriores, aliás é uma versão melhorada de um logo semelhante usado pela emissora em seu site desde 1998.
Esse logo foi encontrado na abertura do especial "TV Ano 50" exibido pela Rede Globo para comemorar os 50 anos da TV brasileira em 2000, na abertura aparecem diversos logos de emissoras brasileiras, inclusive as extintas como a Manchete, Tupi e Excelsior. Um detalhe é que desde os anos 90 a Gazeta já tinha o logo que aparece na vinheta, mas na maioria das vezes só usava o logo "CNT Gazeta" durante a programação, em raríssimas ocasiões exibia também só o logo com o nome "Gazeta", esse registro dos anos 90 foi encontrado em uma pesquisa feita por mim no site da emissora em 1998 através do Wayback Machine. Inclusive essa possível vinheta também foi comentada por Rafael Alves, do Grupo da Informação (hoje Intermedia) em um vídeo que o mesmo fez para o Youtube.
Foto dessa possível vinheta perdida na abertura do especial TV Ano 50 (0:04):
Registro do site da emissora em 1998 com uma versão mais antiga do logo dessa vinheta:


Vinheta Interprogramas - (Final dos Anos 60 - Inicio dos anos 70):
Essa vinheta, como a grande maioria das vinhetas dos anos 70 da emissora, está completa na imagem mas está sem áudio. Provavelmente uma das primeiras vinhetas da emissora. Ela foi postada há mais de 10 anos atrás no Youtube, junto de outras vinhetas dos anos 70 da mesma em um compilado, mas ela e todas as outras não estavam com seus áudios originais, por cima delas, que a postou colocou o áudio do encerramento da programação da emissora em 1982. Muitos anos depois algumas montagens foram feitas, a primeira misturava o áudio da abertura de um institucional feito pela emissora em 1972 com a vinheta sem áudio, já a segunda misturava o áudio de uma vinheta que é um remake dessa e que foi feita em 1979, as únicas diferenças de uma pra outra é que essa nova versão era colorida e no final ao invés do nome original da emissora "TV Cultura" aparecer, o nome que aparecia era "RTC - Rádio e Televisão Cultura", nome que a emissora adotou no final da década de 70.
E ainda pra fechar, em 2014 a Cultura fez uma vinheta comemorativa de 45 anos, onde eram exibidos diversos trechos de vinhetas antigas com trechos dos áudios originais, aí também fizeram uma montagem com o suposto trecho que teoricamente seria o original, trecho bastante poluído aliás. Porém a vinheta na íntegra com seu áudio original nunca foi postada, e se algum dos áudios dessas montagens for o original, só vamos descobrir quando alguém ou a própria emissora disponibilizar essa vinheta através de uma nova gravação.
1ª Montagem, mixagem da vinheta sem som com áudio da abertura do institucional da emissora em 1972:
Abertura do institucional (0:00):
2ª Montagem, mixagem da vinheta sem som com áudio do remake dessa vinheta feito em 1979:
Remake da vinheta feito em 1979:
3ª Montagem, mixagem da vinheta sem som com o suposto trecho original encontrado na vinheta de 45 anos da TV Cultura:
Versão descartada da vinheta de 45 anos da emissora com suposto trecho original da vinheta (0:00):

Vinheta Interprogramas - (1972?):
Mais uma vinheta daquele mesmo compilado de 10 anos atrás, ela também está aparentemente completa na imagem mas está sem seu áudio original, e que inclusive também recebeu o áudio do encerramento de 1982 da emissora por cima. Eu deduzo que seja de 1972 pois é nítido o estilo mais psicodélico, típico das emissoras quando passaram a exibir suas programações em cores.
Vinheta com áudio do encerramento de 1982 por cima:

Vinheta Interprogramas - (Anos 70):
Outra vinheta do compilado, sem seu áudio original e com aquele mesmo outro áudio que já citei anteriormente por cima dela, aparentemente também está completa, e provavelmente foi feita a partir de 1972, pelo fato dela também ser colorida.
Vinheta com áudio do encerramento de 1982 por cima:

Vinheta Sessão Psiu - (1975?):
A vinheta está completa, mas infelizmente está sem áudio, trata-se davinheta de um programa infantil da emissora exibido na década de 1970, mesmo pesquisando na internet, não encontrei uma data específica na qual o programa estreou, mas segundo o "Almanaque TV Cultura 50 Anos" produzido pela própria, o programa ficou no ar até 1977, era estrelado pelos palhaços Pimentinha (Walter Seyssel), Torresmo (Brasil Queirolo) e por Irineu de Carli. A vinheta foi postada no Youtube pelo usuário Arquivão, mas foi originalmente disponibilizada pela própria emissora através desse Almanaque que citei acima.
Vinheta no Almanaque TV Cultura 50 Anos:
Vinheta no Youtube:

Vinheta Comemorativa de 10 Anos - (1979):
Essa igual as outras interprogramas que já citei aqui, também faz parte daquele compilado e está nas mesmas condições das anteriores, aparentemente completa, sem áudio original e com outro por cima. Pelo menos nessa deu para cravar o ano certo dela, uma vez que a emissora foi fundada em 1969.
Vinheta de 10 Anos com áudio do encerramento de 1982 por cima:

Vinheta Interprogramas - (1979?):
Mais uma vinheta daquele compilado, e também está nas mesmas condiçõesdas outras, mas infelizmente também não é possível saber o ano certo de exibição dessa, mas é bem provável que seja do final da década de 70.
Vinheta com áudio do encerramento de 1982 por cima:

Vinheta Interprogramas - (1979 ou 1980):
A ultima vinheta daquele compilado, essa também está nas mesmas condições das anteriores já citadas, nela aparecem em baixo do nome e logo da emissora os números dos canais da mesma na cidade de São Paulo e na cidade de Barretos, essa de Barretos provavelmente era uma retransmissora. A vinheta foi feita entre 1979 e o início dos anos 1980, pois o nome da emissora já aparece como RTC nessa vinheta.
Vinheta com aquele áudio por cima:

Encerramento da programação - (1982):
Esse é aquele mesmo encerramento que foi mixado como áudio de fundo dessas vinhetas até agora sem áudio original da emissora, em contrapartida só o áudio desse encerramento foi recuperado também e até agora ninguém sabe como é sua imagem, se é exibida alguma vinheta em computação gráfica ou imagens do mundo real. A gravação é datada de 1982, na época que a emissora se chamava "RTC - Rádio e Televisão Cultura".
Áudio do encerramento na íntegra (0:00):

Vinheta Interprogramas - (1982):
Essa vinheta é um caso a parte, está completa na imagem e no áudio, mas infelizmente aparentemente por causa de um defeito na gravação da mesma através do VHS, ela acabou ficando com as cores erradas, na gravação defeituosa o chão e os logos flutuantes da emissora estão verdes, e o até então nome da emissora (RTC) está roxo escuro, enquanto nas cores originais o chão é amarelado, os logos flutuantes são laranjas e o nome RTC que aparece no final é azul celeste. Essa versão original foi descoberta naquela mesma vinheta de 45 anos da Cultura que já citei antes, onde apareciam trechos de diversas vinhetas antigas da emissora.
Vinheta completa com as cores erradas:
Vinheta de 45 anos com trecho da versão com as cores originais (0:01):

Vinheta interprogramas - (2008-2009):
Essa vinheta está incompleta e sem áudio, em 2008 a TV Cultura lança um novo slogan "A TV que faz bem" e com eles varias novas vinhetas foram feitas, algumas estão disponíveis no Youtube, mas não tenho informações de se outras foram feitas, mas é bem possível que sim. Essa vinheta em questão foi gravada em 2008 antes da exibição do programa Castelo Rá-Tim-Bum.
Episódio do programa com a vinheta incompleta no início:

Vinheta interprogramas - (2010-2011):
Essa vinheta está completa, porém sem áudio, entre 2010 e 2011 a TV Cultura lança um slogan de transição. "Está surgindo uma TV diferente", e com isso mais uma série de novas vinhetas foram produzidas e muitas delas estão no Youtube. Em 2011 a emissora muda seu slogan agora em definitivo para "Uma TV diferente", slogan que ficou até 2013.
Vinheta sem áudio:

Vinheta de Classificação Indicativa de 18 Anos - (2015-2017):
Apenas um trecho de 2 segundos e sem áudio dessa vinheta foi recuperado, em 2015 quando a TV Cultura muda novamente sua identidade visual novas vinhetas são produzidas, dentre elas as vinhetas de classificação indicativa, que por sinal possuem um trecho diferente da mesma trilha das classificações exibidas entre 2009 e 2010. Todas as outras vinhetas de classificação desse pacote já foram encontradas, menos essa que é raríssima, o trecho em questão foi achado em um vídeo que mostrava a nova identidade visual da emissora.
Demo da nova identidade visual da TV Cultura com trecho da vinheta perdida (0:32):


Vinheta Domingo Animado - (2009-2010): Domingo Animado foi um programa infantil exibido pelo SBT entre 2007 e 2010 para algumas praças que não tinham programação local nas manhãs de domingo, o programa seguia o mesmo modelo dos outros infantis da emissora como o Bom Dia e Cia e Sábado Animado, focando na exibição de desenhos e com brincadeiras valendo prêmios entre os telespectadores, mas com a diferença de ter uma duração menor em comparação a esses 2, a partir de 2010 o programa deixou de ser exibido, e em seu lugar entrou o Clube do Chaves.
Todas as vinhetas dos programas infantis do SBT até 2009 eram completamente diferentes umas das outras, até que a partir daí elas foram padronizadas com a introdução dos personagens "Greens", ou seja todas elas eram iguais só mudando o final, onde apareciam os logos de cada programa, mas algum tempo depois elas voltaram a ficar diferentes umas das outras inclusive com trilhas de abertura diferentes também, mas sempre envolvendo esses personagens nas aberturas, só a abertura do Bom Dia e Cia que não mudou, ficando com aquela primeira que serviu de base para todas as outras envolvendo os Greens. o Domingo Animado também ganhou uma vinheta nesse estilo, mas enquanto as vinhetas do Carrossel Animado e Sábado Animado foram atualizadas, a do Domingo Animado ficou sendo aquela primeira, ou seja a mesma do Bom Dia e Cia só mudando o logo no final.
Apesar da primeira vinheta do programa estar disponível, essa em especial até hoje não foi recuperada, a única coisa que restou dela foi o logo atualizado do programa, com um registro sendo uma foto retirada do final da vinheta, e o outro registro sendo uma aparição do logo no final de uma chamada do programa em 2009, inclusive várias montagens foram feitas simulando como seria essa vinheta. Ela foi comentada inicialmente pelo Rafael Alves naquela série "Vinheta Nunca Vistas" que inclusive também virou Lost Media.
Montagem simulando como seria essa vinheta completa:
Chamada do programa em 2009 com esse logo atualizado aparecendo no final (1:24)
Primeira vinheta do programa (2007-2009):


Vinhetas TV Kids - (2006-2007):
TV Kids foi um programa infantil da RedeTV! que era dedicado a exibição de animes e desenhos como Pokémon, Super Onze, Johnny Test entre outros, mas que nos seus últimos anos teria seu foco voltado ao público pré-escolar, exibindo algumas animações mais infantis como Pororo e tendo palhaços como apresentadores. O programa estreou no dia 05 de Junho de 2006 e teve várias fases, essa primeira durou até o ano de 2007, a segunda durou de 2008 até 2012, a terceira durou de 2014 até 2015 e a última (e mais flopada também) estreou e acabou no ano de 2018.
Quase todas as vinhetas do programa estão disponíveis no Youtube menos duas da primeira fase, que aliás são as primeiras, os únicos registros delas em vídeo são trechos exibidos em chamadas da época. Da primeira vinheta sobrou apenas um trecho de 1 segundo exibido em uma chamada do programa em 2006, já da segunda vinheta sobrou um trecho de 2 segundos exibido em uma chamada da emissora anunciando a programação vespertina e noturna do dia 02 de Fevereiro de 2007.
Existe uma montagem que tenta simular como seria essa segunda vinheta, no caso quem fez a montagem colocou o boa parte da vinheta de 2008 e no final onde aparecia o logo daquele ano colocou o logo da vinheta de 2007, e ao fundo deixou a mesma trilha de 2008. Não temos como saber se as vinhetas originais são assim mesmo ou se tinham imagens diferentes (o que é mais provável) ou também trilhas diferentes, se você viu o TV Kids nessa primeira fase e se lembra dessas vinhetas, por favor comente que eu atualizo o post.
Chamada da programação da RedeTV! em 20/02/2007 com trecho da segunda vinheta perdida (0:05)
Montagem utilizando o logo da vinheta de 2007 e o resto da vinheta de 2008:
Chamada do programa em 2006 com trecho da primeira vinheta perdida no intervalo da RedeTV! (3:40):
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2023.05.29 00:05 passports_parakeets Whining and Dining - Stevie Kate’s Week in Review

Dimmy: Hello, we’ve all been sick since yesterday! But we also develop a severe allergic reaction if we stay home! So Superspreader Kate ran outside in her pajamas to have a tea party with the ducks at the park then we plopped her back in bed for a nap in her dirty pajamas, but she woke up soon after because she’s sick and pooped her pajamas. Why get a clean outfit out now, when I can just take her pajama pants off and continue about our day! Beady Kate was upset so I gave her a pack of 36 cheap bracelets from Amazon to distract her. I’ll link ‘em up for you even though they’re labeled as a choking hazard for kids under three! I dunno know what happened to the last pack of 36 I gave her. I guess she swallowed all of the beads from those! Sniffles Kate went back outside in her diaper and pajama top. I hate wearing pants too so I wore my hot dog jeans which is the next best thing to no pants! I showed Pantsless Kate how to paint with water since we banned sidewalk chalk after she colored our walls blue. Let’s paint our ABCs!
A a a airplane in the sky B b b bee spray that doesn’t work C c c code for the fat poors
What a full day of shilling (products), Schylling (tea cups) and spilling (tea)!
Dimmy: Guys my period is five days late but I’m not pregnant! Has this ever happened to you? Yes or not yet!
Dimmy: Hellloooo I’m back. Like, a lot of people are saying just wait a few more days and take another pregnancy test then.
Dimmy: So anyway even though I’m super sick I went to Mindy McKnight’s bath and body launch to spread my germs because it was at a hamam and you all know from my time in Morocco, I love a good hamam! Mindy and I took a photo with our mouths hanging open and faces pressed together so….. hope one of your new bath products is an immune booster, Mindy! Good luck not getting sick!
Meanwhile Scooter Kate had fun skiing for donuts in her clogs, riding her scooter and learning to catch a football.
Kimmy took the day off stories without explanation and was nowhere to be found. Could she be feeling poorly? “Working?” Taking multiple pregnancy tests? Shopping for more ripped-knee jeans?
The disheveled moppet and her tax-challenged handler surfaced on stories at Turtle Creek Lane. Smartie Kate had gone over there to teach McKenna Kate how to spell, and correct the errors on her summer bucket list. As a reward for tutoring MK, the fridge troll gave Stevie Clog an ice cream cone, but the sugar police caught her red-handed. Not to be bullied for her sweet treat, Stevie Kate tightened her grip on the cone and licked away defiantly as Minnie scolded her. As punishment, Jen made her cut up a huge plate full of raw veggies and eat them. Then Stevie Swan visited Swannie Kate and taught Jen how to read, and finished her afternoon at TCL by taking a nap with one of her favorites, Uncle Sam.
Chef Kate: Good morning mommy here’s your breakfast: two pieces of bacon and a pancake served with a side of my snot syrup. Zero calorie play food, since we all know you never eat any real breakfast! You intermittent fast for 1100 hours and then break your fast with HLTH code powder and whipped cream!
Dummy is crowdsourcing Twitter and Instagram for suggestions on how to get SK to stop whining as the Contentot was put in timeout twice today.
Dimmy told everyone that taking your toddler to Costco is a fun idea because they can destroy everything in the store instead of your house. She and Jen piled Shopping Cart Kate high with Memorial Day weekend groceries for their upcoming trip to the lake house. Costco Kate was not amused by the Tide on her toes and snot on her nose.
Dimmy shilled CVS ExtraBucks and then it was time for Cartwheel Kate to hit the gym and In-N-Out. Stevie Kate and Dummy enjoyed burgers with buns and Dimmy got to lick the wrappers. Unclear if she has anything else, as she placed a movie recommendation box strategically over the spot where her dinner should be.
Dummy said he’s already listened to two parenting books at 4X speed and has detailed the perfect six step plan on how to get Stevie Kate to stop whining, which involves gossiping in front of her and some other weird shit. Now if only he could find the perfect six step plan on how to stop being an asshole.
Shoeless Kate managed not to lose any toes racing around in her little car, feet flying across the pavement. She pretended her baby doll was Shilly Lilly and followed Tiffany’s safety guidelines for how to treat a newborn, although everyone agreed she was gentler with her doll than Tiffany is with Chilly, as the doll was properly dressed and only flew out of the car and hit the pavement once.
Then it was time to hit the road for Memorial Day weekend at Possum Kingdom. The Dummies packed up their car by grabbing armfuls of all the junk in their house and shoving it into their car, filling up every square inch to the top. Despite not being able to see out the car windows, Dummy drove the overstuffed hail-dented junk mobile to the lake house without getting in an accident. On the way Dimmy gave us an update on Period Watch 2023 as if any of us care. She’s now eight days late and still churning out negative pregnancy tests.
The Dummies were the first of the Turtles to arrive at the lake house. The fridge troll collapsed on the new Love Sac sofa with his shoes on for a nap while Feral Kate was ready to go out on the boat but alas the Senior Turtles weren’t due to arrive until the next day.
Goooood moooorning… Hiiiiiii trilled the shrill one, in her screechiest greeting of the week as she located her troll of a husband and diaper-clad tot in The Ranch at Possum Kingdom’s neighborhood pool. She changed the Contentot into a swim diaper but didn’t bother dressing her in a swimsuit. After SK’s Elsa and Anna dolls lemming-jumped to their deaths off the waterfall feature with an assist from Dummy, it was time to tour the $5 million lake house the Senior Turtles just purchased to add to their growing portfolio of properties, which will soon fill up an entire Monopoly board. Entitled Kate, finally clothed in a swim cover-up, was bored with the new home tour (another day, another mansion, am I right?) so the troll played hide and seek with her throughout the cavernous rooms. Then Dimmy bribed Stevie Carb with white bread if she’d pretend to love her new cousin and gaze at her sweetly, which worked like a charm. The Contentot gleefully held slices of white bread in each grubby paw on the expensive brand new white Lovesac sofa and crouched next to Shilly. Then Stevie Kate went out on the boat and had a grand time since she got fed more bread there and didn’t even have to waterski for content and donuts. Channeling her inner Geico commercial piggy, she gleefully cried weeeeeeeeee the whole way home.
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2023.05.28 23:55 Bateman_Not_Batman #how to get ahead in ai.dvertising [SP]

The Future is Officially Canceled.
Dee had read articles like this before. He couldn’t remember if the future had ever been officially canceled. But it had been canceled. Unofficially, perhaps. Hence the need to do it officially.
He skimmed the first few paragraphs …the slow cancellation of the future… …pop culture is eating itself… …imitators are imitating an imitation… The ‘slow cancellation’ theory was first flung around in the early twenty first century, on the hypothesis that if you played 1970s music to someone in the 1950s, it would blow their freaking mind. And if you played music from the 1990s to someone in the 1970s, their mind would be equally blown. But if you played music from the ‘10s to someone in the 1990s it wouldn’t be that much of a stretch. In fact, that person may even think they had heard some of it before. The same thing with music from the ‘30s to someone in the ‘10s or music from now to someone in the ‘30s. That person might conceivably think they were even listening to music from a previous decade. Pop culture had referenced itself so many times over, it was now just a copy of a copy of a copy. Degrading every time.
Dee looked down at the article's credit, Dennis Bagley, Editorial AI Operator. He knew it, AI. No wonder it read so familiar. He looked up at the various awards on his top shelf. Dee knew he was different. Better. His AI operating skills were the thing of accolades. The thing of applause. Just last week he and his AI processor picked up Gold in Effectology for their Just Poo It campaign for Charmin. And Silver in Originology for their The Ketchup In The Rye commercial for Pepsi-Heinz, about a young guy who gets kicked out of school and stays out all night trying to find a bottle of ketchup. He looked down at his processor and beamed. Its glowing red light beamed back at him.
They didn’t just stumble into that kind of effectiveness. Campaigns didn’t even get greenlit unless they scored ninety or above on the Effectology meter. He and his AI were usually hitting ninety twos or ninety threes, even a ninety five for Here’s To The Lazy Ones for Caspar mattresses. That campaign killed.
But Dee held himself to that higher calling, Originology. The metrics of original ideas. Sure, the AI did most of the work but Dee was able to tweak his processor to go way beyond the requisite twenty five percent Originology score. Together they were nailing figures in the forties, sometimes even peaking into the fifties. Scores that were head and shoulders above the rest of the department.
That’s how he could afford the sweet ‘18 Jordans Reissues on his feet. He curled his luxe Loewe headphone cable through his fingers and wrapped it around his neck like a scarf. He scoffed at a time when people didn’t think they needed a headphone cable. And imagined having nothing to twirl while listening to reinterpreted rock, nothing to wind around his fingers while he fed the processor. How many headphones must have been lost forever, just because they weren’t plugged in? Like everything else in pop culture, what went around came around, and, relatively recently, headphone cables had come back hard as the status symbol. Today, you didn’t just have to have a cable to be considered cool, you had to have the cable. It had to be thick as a rope, plated with rare metals, and covered in a fancy leather sheath from a chic brand like Gucci or Loewe.
Dee beamed as he thought of all the cool historical cultural knowledge he had amassed. Not just advertising history like the dweebs in the cubicles around him, but film history, fashion history, art history, music history. If it happened in culture, he knew about it. And he used it. That’s how he scored so high on the Originology meter. It made him feel almost like a real writer. Though he would never say that out loud. He imagined being like the old timers, upstairs. The human writers, that clients would pay a serious premium for. Then he wouldn’t have to work on ketchup and toilet roll. He could have a crack at the big dogs, like Googlesoft, United American Airlines or DoritosLocosTacoBell. For now though, he’d have to stick with clients more becoming of his position. This morning’s task was to create a campaign for Pepsi-Crest. A toothpaste. Not super interesting. But he knew how to spice it up. Instead of letting his AI go back through decades of toothpaste ads just to pump out tired old crap like the It Cleans Your Face While it Cleans Your Teeth campaign that Mike Bey pitched last week, Dee mixed in a little fast food inspo from one of his favorite eras and found himself at the highly original and equally effective Where’s the Teeth? campaign. He was stunned by his own brilliance. He patted his processor and imagined it congratulating him back, then he programmed it to write an epic fifteen second anthem film and a suite of six second pre-roll spots, then sent it off to the CG department to render in time to air that night. Dee’s colleagues often asked him how he and his processor were so good at what they did. How their campaigns always scored so highly in both Effectology and Originology. They all used the same machine learning. It’s what the agency sold itself on. Never wanting to sound aloof; even though he was, or like he was tooting his own horn; even though he often did, he would merely say, “I like to pepper a bit of non advertising data in there. A little hint of me.” It was enough to provoke gasps and even make his colleagues take a step back or two, they had all been programmed to do just one task, feed the machine with advertising data. They couldn’t fathom diverging. “The AI should be enough,” was the general understanding. “The machine has better knowledge of advertising history than we do,” and “knows the ins and outs of Effectology better than we ever could.” It’s even been “scientifically programmed to exceed all expectation of Originology.” Dee couldn’t be swayed by any of the standard reactions. He would just smile, and casually amble off. Knowing full well he was beating the machine. He was a rebel in his own right. That afternoon, his section boss leaned over his cubicle. “Hullo Tara.” “Keep it formal please, colleague,” she scolded, “call me Antino. What do you look so ruddy chuffed about anyway?” “I just came up with a brilliant campaign for a very dull toothpaste. You’ll see it on The Comedy Central Reruns Channel tonight.” “Yes, well, an upstairs project is running behind and they’re calling on us down here to pull together some inspo decks, help jostle something loose in those tired old brains.” “Wouldn’t that make them not human-made? What are their clients paying all that money for?” “Loopholes, colleague, loopholes. As long as one of them humans writes the final line, it doesn’t matter how much AI they used to get there. “ “I could do that. I could do better than that. Did I tell you about my toothpaste campaign?” “Yes you did. Twice now. Must be good.” “It is.” “Well, here’s your chance for a peek into the real writer life. I’m deprioritizing your regular workload and prioritizing this inspo creation.” “Yeahhh!” Dee punched the air and freeze framed like he saw in an old movie. “The brief is for Fiat Maserati Jeep Dodge RAM. It’s a car. The Fiat Maserati Jeep Dodge RAM Unica. Like a fancy off-roader, you know what I mean? They wanna sell it to people in cities who don’t drive. More of a status symbol, you know what I mean? Like park it in front of your house so people will know you could go off-roading if you wanted to. Audience archetype is Moms. You getting this?” Dee finally broke his freeze frame but his mind was already whirring. “Yeah, I got it.” “Alright then. Bon chance.” Dee jumped into action, flipped up his AI processor’s screen and started cross referencing old Land Rover ads with The Rock movies, some Nora Ephron classics, Michelle Rodriguez’s character from all twenty eight Fast & Furious movies; even the fully CGI’d ones, the scene from Mrs Doubtfire when she’s playing the broomstick like a guitar, some Bikini Kill records, a memory of his own Mom making him wait in the car while she went shopping at Bergdorfs, a bunch of cool off-roading stuff from Top Gear and a painting of a car he’d always loved by Robert Bechtle. The machine spat out fifteen possible campaign inspo starters and Dee ran-walked them to the inspo courier in the office atrium. Before the day ended, a synthetic orchestra sounded through the building, \Pah pahhh, pah pa pah pa pah pahhh** and the employees were called into the atrium. Office meeting. As Dee strolled in, he caught the rare sight of the last few human copywriters lined up around the balcony above them. They applauded the downstairs employees, theatrically, motioning with their claps as they walked in and took seats, stood awkwardly or otherwise congregated.
There was a dramatic hush before one of the last true human copywriters finally spoke. “Great inspo. Thanks.” Wow. Each word, each letter, worth its weight in gold. That's probably why they used so few, thought Dee. “Yeah, really really good stuff.” Said another. “AI did this?” Said a third as she held the sheets of inspo out. “Some of the best inspo I’ve ever seen in all of my career.” Coughed the oldest and most regal sounding.
Dee squinted and peered up at them. Was that his inspo deck they were flashing around? Was this whole elaborate ceremony all to celebrate his AI operating? He didn’t know whether to be chuffed or anxious. Did they know he was cheating the system? Did they care? These are some of the last true human copywriters in history. They have, and are encouraged to have, the unique thought. Their work isn’t judged on how similar-without-being-exactly-the-same it is to existing campaigns. It’s judged on how different, how breakthrough, how stand out it is.
“It was me!” Dee blurted out. Quite uncharacteristically. He was usually so cool with the compliments. So coy with the recognition. His whole angle required it.
The other AI operators standing around him took their requisite step back, though this time it was less in awe, more in disgust. The air in the room stiffened. AI had ruled his department, and most of the industry, for so long that people didn’t speak up anymore. They just quietly fed the machine. And the machine took all the glory. Dee felt instant ostracism from the colleagues he had worked alongside for most of his career. He immediately questioned his outburst and retracted his ownership claim, knowing that his inspo deck would have been one of many.
“Some of it, at least. My AI, I mean. Processor.” He said. Sheepish this time. Back in his place.
The last few human copywriters smiled, nodded, bowed, gave final congratulations to all from high up on their balcony and then shuffled away in single file. All but one, Sir Coughing-Most-Regal. He slowly made his way down the grand staircase, into the atrium. A man leaving behind his usual pomp and circumstance, bringing his rare ability of unique thought into a crowd of imitation suppliers. As he reached the bottom step, he lost all of his royal air and seemed suddenly so vulnerable, walking among the regular folk. Most of Dee’s colleagues had already left, gone back to their metal masters, but Dee stayed. He knew this old man was coming to see him. He thought he might be in for a dressing down but he hoped it would be the opposite. He manifested that this titan of singular thought, the rare, unique idea, was coming to congratulate him.
“Freedkin.” The old man shoved out his hand. “Pleasure.” Dee shook it. “You say you programmed this inspo deck, yes?” He flapped the pages around. “Yes.” “Ruddy good work, let me tell you.” “Thank you.” “In all my years, since this artificial thinking thing came in, I’ve never read anything so good. Inspired me all over. I’ve been positively bursting with ideas since.” “Thank… you.” “AI wrote this you say?” “Yes.” “Ruddy good for AI. Never read anything so ruddy good. And you processed it?” “Yes.” “What’s your name son?” “Dee.” “Dee what?” “Palmer.” “Pleasure to meet you, Palmer. How much did you… influence it, the AI?” “How do you mean, sir?” “Call me Freedkin.” “How do you mean, Freedkin?” “I mean… how much of it is yours and how much is the machine’s?” Dee didn’t answer. He was looking for the angle. This old man surely didn’t value what AI does. He’s one of the last bastions of actual human creation. What was he getting at? Freedkin reoriented his question. “Mostly the machine or mostly you?” Dee thought he might have a kindred spirit here, in front of him, for the first time. He was going to take a risk. Recognizing a willingness to open up, Freedkin leaned in and spoke quietly. “Did you write this inspo or did the machine?” “I wrote it.” Dee postured. “All.” “Thought so. Good job. Our secret.” Freedkin winked. “Jolly good.” The next day, as he fed his AI little snippets of unexpected data, Dee noticed a hush come over his floor. The usual keyboard click, clack and grumble of inter-colleague banter were dead silent. All that was left was the processors’ harmonic hum. He lifted himself from his expensive ergonomic office chair and peered over his cubicle wall, spying across the sea of operators that made up the AI.ded Creativity department. A hunched figure at the opposite end of the bullpen sauntered from operator to operator, swilling a cup of coffee, looking in at each workstation. Giving a “hello” here, a nod there, even the odd salute. It was Freedkin. A real writer. Down here with the machine feeders. The other operators seemed afraid to go near him. Worried they might infect him with their inability. Dee had never seen a real writer in the operators’ bullpen. Freedkin, already old by industry standards, looked positively ancient in these surroundings. A sepia photograph in a technicolor world. Dee watched him, wondering if he should call out. He felt bound by social etiquette to not foist another outburst onto his peers. So he just watched, for a number of minutes, until Freedkin was close enough that his old eyes could make out Dee’s visage.
“Palmer!” Bingo. The two sat in Dee’s cubicle. Freedkin in the expensive office chair, as was fitting, and Dee on the wooden footstool. “For a short time we all worked from home. At the start of my career. For a short time.” “Everyone?” “Most. Not everyone, I suppose. But it was the thing to do. Was deemed more productive. Until it wasn’t. Then when this thing became the norm,” he tapped on Dee’s tiny AI processor, its red light glowed, “there was a sort of an office renaissance. I remember the bigwigs back then didn’t really want us using AI for ideas. Like it was giving in to the machine. We slowly got called back to the agency so they could keep an eye on our output. Keep it human, I suppose. That’s when the separation happened. In the end, the agency had to start using artificial thinking to keep up with demand. What are you lot churning out these days? Three campaigns a day? Four? We used to get a whole week to come up with one idea. After a while, of course, it got squeezed down to a couple of days. To the point where we needed the machine to keep up. Not long after, the bigwigs realized they could actually charge more off of the ‘human’ written stuff. Anyway, enough of the history lesson, what.” “It’s very interesting.” “Yes well, what I really came down here for,” Freedkin paused and looked around, “was some of that… good… inspo.” “I hear ya.” Dee poised his fingers over his keyboard and looked into the air like he was about to write something, cocksure in his posture. “What’s this one about then?” “Watches. For Googlesoft. ‘Time,’ I was thinking, means so much, yet so little. Where does it all go? You know? How do we make more of it? Watches are time machines. See?” Dee’s posture sank. He thought of all that, by himself? No machine? He suddenly felt very ineffective. Unoriginal. He saw only the red glow from his little AI processor, staring back at him. Taking all the credit. He imagined it laughing with his colleagues in a bar while he sat at the other end of the table, ignored. He imagined it accepting awards by itself. He felt weak. He felt useless without it. It just glowed. “It kind of flows better… when I’m alone.” Dee nervously mumbled. “Right. Don’t say another word. Right you are. ‘Time.’ Remember. Where does it all go? Ok, I go. Ta-ta for now.
Dee looked down at his processor, apologetically. He quietly admonished himself before it until he felt forgiven. Then he typed in a weak initial prompt, all he could muster, write an advertising campaign about time.
The AI spat back a perfectly crafted campaign idea, line and film execution almost faster than Dee hit enter. The Best Things Come To Bros Who Wait. Dee immediately recognized it as a Guinness Surfers imitation. Tick followed tock followed tick followed tock. Its Effectology score clocked in well into the nineties. But its Originology score barely scraped by, just making it into ‘passable.’ Dee silently sneered at his surrounding coworkers. Any one of them would submit this as is and call it a day. It’d be rendered in minutes, deals made with celebrities’ CG likenesses under the hour, a revered AI voiceover and stunning synthetic music that would leave audiences lining up for these passively useful timepieces. But that wasn’t enough for Dee. That’s why he was who he was, goddamnit. Why Freedkin came to him. Him! Not Buton or Deytoro or Heckering. Him!
He added more detail to his prompt. Meaning of time. How to get time back. Time Machine. Back in time. Michael J Fox. Einstein (dog). Time Bandits. Timecop. Van Damme. Kyle Reece. Time displacement. Uhhh huhhh this felt good again. This was working. Dee and his processor were back in sync. As though they were one. Of course, as far as Freedkin knew, they were one. As Dee typed away, he imagined him and his AI coming together. Two heads. Better than one. He lost himself in his prompting and pictured his processor sitting on his shoulder, a second head, right there, next to his own. A tiny, metal appendage. Sleek, gray, with its glowing red light. And, for some reason, it was growing a little mustache. Dee and the mustached machine were completely lost in their work over the next few days. They hardly wrote any of their own campaigns. It was all inspo, inspo, inspo for Freedkin. The good stuff though, Viking Space Cruises, 1900 Tequila, Acne Studios. Each time, Dee and his processor were pretty much writing the entire thing. Freedkin hardly needed to change them at all. Just put his old world tone all over it. Add all of his extra words and ‘personality.’ Dee’s two heads were coming up with the best campaigns in the agency. And no one knew it. Except Freedkin. By now, his second head felt almost as big as his first. He could see it in his periphery. When he looked to the left, it looked back at him. It smiled sometimes. And that little freaking mustache was starting to freak Dee out. That night, Freedkin invited Dee for a couple of drinks with the other real human writers at the fanciest DoritosLocosTacoBell on the Westside. They didn’t even have to wait in line. Dee marveled at the size of the place, the expansiveness. It was packed. They were led through by the greeter to a private table at the back with a leather rope around it. He sat on the edge of the booth as the others ordered various flavors of Gatorade-aritas. When it got to Dee, he said he would have the same as Freedkin, which turned out to be a Frost Glacier Cherry-arita, the classiest -arita of all.
The writers’ conversation was mesmerizing. Every word that came out of their mouths was a unique thought. An opinion. A point of view. Dee tried to join in by recounting the narrative of various movies he had seen. The more obscure the better, attempting to interact at their level. While telling the story of Mick Jackson’s Threads to Bigelo, he could feel her searching for a point of view or an opinion in what he was saying, but he couldn’t stir one. If only he had his processor right now. Its red light glowed comfortingly in his mind. He missed it. Slowly, the other writers left. Dee couldn’t help but think he had something to do with it. He was feeling so inadequate by the time everyone but Freedkin had gone that he just sat quietly and half-smiled at him. Both of them were five or six Gatorade-aritas deep, slumped in their private booth. “Do you like what you do?” Asked Freedkin. “I love it.” “Do you really?” “I don’t know.” “I hate what I do. But I’m good at it. Do you want to know the secret, Palmer? The secret to what we do?” Dee couldn’t do anything but smile a little bigger to communicate his response. Freedkin paused for dramatic effect. “If you love advertising, you shouldn’t work in advertising.” Did Dee love advertising? He didn’t even know. He knew he knew advertising. “You think your audience loves advertising? You think they want to see your tribute to that Googlesoft spot that was an imitation of an Apple spot that was inspired by a Brett Morgen film? No! They just want to see the Brett Morgen film! They don’t want to see your thing at all!” Dee slumped further down. “But if you’re lucky,” Freedkin continued, “if you’re really lucky, and you show them something they’ve never seen before, because you hate advertising too and you just wanted to make something that made you feel something, if they feel that same feeling, you’ve got gold. But you can only get to gold by summoning all of your experiences outside of advertising. You can’t just try to make the Nike of pimple commercials. You have to make the Palmer of pimple commercials. Do you see? That’s the problem with your AI. Your machine.”
The red light flashed again in Dee’s mind. Awakened by Freedkin’s heresy.
“The best AI will ever do is just show you a better version of something you’ve seen before. They call that effective? The numbers can say whatever they want them to, all they’re really doing is pasting wallpaper on top of wallpaper on top of wallpaper. Until eventually the audience ignores it completely. But you’re different Palmer. You and I are different. Different is what sells. I had a word with Simmons up on six. She’s agreed to give you a trial period on the human floor. At my behest. Don’t worry, I didn’t tell her you were already thinking for yourself. I just told her you had the potential to. You start tomorrow. Trial period. Tonight was about the other humans meeting you. I can’t tell you that they’re not skeptical. But they’re open to it. For me. What do you think?” Dee was nervous. He got off the elevator at the operators’ bullpen without even thinking about it. He walked all the way to the atrium and up the grand staircase to the human writers’ floor, instead of getting back on the elevator. He took each step steadily, taking it all in. He felt like a tourist. Like he was borrowing an identity. He imagined he was a young Freedkin and tried to put a confident stride in his step. It didn’t work. He put his hand in his pocket and felt for his AI processor. His second head. Mustached. He couldn’t turn it on because, as everyone knew, AI wasn’t allowed upstairs, in case the agency got audited. The cost consultants would be all over a human writing department that used artificial ideation. They’d be shut down. At the very least, they would lose their Un.AI.ded AI.dvertising license. The only reason for charging such a premium. Dee ran his hand along the balcony rail. He’d only ever seen it from downstairs, from the non-human thinkers’ floor. He walked from the balcony to the human writer’s work area. It was the exact opposite of what he was used to. No sea of cubicles. No click clack. No mechanized productivity. No hum. Just couches, writing desks and quiet.
“Morning.” Whistled Freedkin. “How are we?” “We?” “You.” “Wish I hadn’t drunk so much.” “Ohh, I know. Think of it as an initiation. Nothing wrong with it. Takes your mind off the job. Stops you from thinking for a minute. You need that after everything you’ve been pumping out. All that gold, that is.” “Right.” “Right. Well. Set yourself up wherever you like. First brief is for Coca-Cola. A new water! The freshest water they’ve ever sold, so they say. Tap Clear” Dee wandered over to a small writing desk and put his touchscreen down. He unraveled his headphone cable and felt for his processor in his pocket. When he found it, he rubbed it like a lamp, wishing for a genie. A couple of human writers who’d been deep in concentration when he first walked in, had been disturbed by his arrival. He didn’t recognize them from last night. They glared at him as he set himself up. He smiled in their general direction. They continued to glare. “Big Jim.” Whispered Freedkin. “Him and his team have been here three days straight, on a pitch. Don’t worry about them. They’re just under tremendous stress. This human work really takes it out of you, you know? ” Dee turned and sat with his back to them. He powered up his touchscreen and put his headphones on, draping his Loewe headphone cable around his neck and shoulders. He hovered his fingers over his keyboard, expecting ideas to come. Nothing. He skimmed the brief. Still nothing. He read the brief. Not a thing. A few of the other writers strolled in. Dee watched them find a workspace, sit down, start writing. One of them even used a pen! Dee loved this whole lifestyle. Turn up for work whenever, spout genius, have lunch, sell some billion dollar ideas, have a cocktail. The thought of it all spurred him on. He hovered his fingers over his keyboard again and braced himself for the idea flow. Nothing came. Nothing. All morning. His mind was blank. It felt like it was getting blanker. He couldn’t believe it. Even half thoughts were swimming away from him. Impossible to catch. Even just individual words. Gone. By the afternoon Dee was starting to freak out. He felt like an imposter. “Freedkin,” he hissed, “I can’t think. I can’t come up with anything.” “It takes time, my boy. Days. I told you, before we used to even have weeks…” “But my brain’s not working at all. It won’t… generate… anything.” “Relax your brain. Relax yourself.” “But Freedkin… Freedkin,” he hissed again, “I didn’t write any of that stuff. It was AI. All of it. No… I mean… I helped… but it wasn’t all me.” “Ok… hold on… boy… be careful. That kind of talk will get you killed around here. Try and make it to the end of the day. Try just writing some things down. Some thoughts. Some words. And if you still feel the same tomorrow, I’ll let the brass know it wasn’t for you. No harm.” Dee’s eyes hardened. “Do you hear me, Palmer?” Dee rubbed his temples. “Listen, this affects both of us. Yes, you, but also me… for recommending you. I’ll be out… Think!” Freedkin distanced himself. Hoping it would quell the panic. Dee stared at nothing for as long as he could. An hour, at most. Just stared. No thoughts came. No words. A blank screen. So he slipped his hand in his pocket, held his AI processor warmly, and turned it on. Instantly, an alarm sounded. “What's going on here, Freedkin?” Skewered Big Jim. “Is this your kid? What’s the big idea? Is he working for the machines? What is he…trying to infiltrate us? I can’t have this. I’ve got a family. I can’t be out of a job.” “It’s just a misunderstanding, Jim. He’ll be leaving now.” “No he won’t. Get back here, kid.” Big Jim grabbed at Dee’s shirt. Dee squirmed and tried to push him away. Big Jim got a hand on his neck instead, as some of the other writers tried to grab his arms. Dee instinctively swung his fists around. He got one of the writers, Bigelo, square in the eye. She roared “He’s blinded me!” Big Jim picked him up by his neck. Dee choked. He grabbed his touchscreen and swung it. The edge caught Big Jim on the side of the head. Big Jim dropped him and screamed. Freedkin put a hand on Big Jim’s shoulder. Big Jim swung his fist around and slammed it into Freedkin’s nose. Dee tried to slip away but Big Jim, raging, grabbed his headphone cable and dragged him back, winding the cable around his neck to try and hold on to him with it. The other writers stepped back as Dee kicked around in a panic. He got one of the writers in the stomach and another in the back. The headphone cable slipped out of Big Jim’s hands. Dee reached out for anything he could grab onto. He found a desk leg and pulled himself away from the melee as the gang of writers got him by his feet. They pulled off his Jordans and he crawled away as fast as he could, out of the writers’ area and onto the balcony. The writers caught up with him. He swung the few punches he could muster. He cracked one writer on the cheekbone as another reached for his headphone cable, wrapping it around the balcony rail to stop him from getting even further away. Big Jim steamed in, bleeding from his head, and slammed into Dee, launching him into the air with his sheer force. Dee reached for the rail but it slipped under him as he toppled over into the open atrium, between the floors. He felt a snap as the headphone cable went taut around his neck. A colleague standing in the atrium shrieked. Dee kicked his legs and wriggled about, trying to slip out. He clawed his hands around the cable and tried to loosen it but it just got tighter and tighter. He looked up to see the human writers peering down. Not helping. He could feel his consciousness slipping away. He looked to his left to see his second head staring straight back at him. As he hung, he could feel the metal head growing, exponentially, until it popped off, hit the ground and shattered. Shiny gray liquid metal spilled all over the floor and splashed up the walls. Its red light glowing all over as the metal spread around the room. Once it had flooded the entire atrium it enveloped Dee’s mind. And he was gone. The agency left his body hanging there for two days. They blamed it on a lack of janitorial availability. Everything in the office was automated, and cutting down a dead body wasn’t something their sanitation robots had been programmed to do. But, deep down, everyone knew that it was a message. That they should stay in the roles they had been assigned. So they did. So they wouldn’t end up like Dee.
submitted by Bateman_Not_Batman to shortstories [link] [comments]

2023.05.28 23:45 Ibrahim_350z Looking to buy my first z

I was hoping someone could let me know what it’s like actually owning the car how reliable is it? And how much is a realistic maintenance price? Also is 230k km/ 150k miles too many when purchasing a 350z, it’s is an HR by the way for 8 grand.
submitted by Ibrahim_350z to 350z [link] [comments]

2023.05.28 23:42 cantseeforshitdotcom Moving from Duluth to Minneapolis, some questions and ISO advice

Hello! Introduction: Im 21, indigenous, trans and two spirit, an artist, a student, and am originally from the Grand Portage Reservation. Moved to Duluth area at a young age. I was in foster care so I’ve lived all over Northern Minnesota but moved to Cloquet 2017-2021 and Duluth in 2021. Duluth is great and all, I consider it my hometown at this point, but I unfortunately have too much trauma associated with the area, and have been wanting to move to a bigger city most of my life anyways (more opportunities, fresh start, things to do, etc. fresh start being the biggest reason lol)
My problem is I’ve spent majority of my life living in rural areas. Grew up in the middle of the damn woods. I dont really know much about * living * in Minneapolis or a large metro area, ive only ever visited.
For reference sake I make about 938$ a month (likely to raise soon, to about 1,300$) and receive section 8
Based on my income and section 8 voucher, where are good places to live? Good neighborhoods for an artist or queer person? Is it better to live in Saint Paul or Minneapolis? Hows the public transit between the two?
Hows the local LGBTQ community? The Indigenous community?
Any resources for Indigenous people in the TC?
What are ways to make friends/connect with others in town?
Hows public transit? (Duluths is terrible lmao) would you consider it a car dependent city or can you get around fine with public transit?
Hows the crime? Is it over exaggerated?
Is transferring from UMDuluth to UofM worth it? (Considering finishing my degree online)
Whats the nature/outside like like? I know it obviously wont be like Duluth but hoping theres at least something yk?
Sorry if these posts are annoying but tyia and please keep in mind I have a hard time understanding sarcasm/jokes especially through text, looking for genuine advice/answers not rude comments! I plan to move when my lease is up. (10 months)
submitted by cantseeforshitdotcom to Minneapolis [link] [comments]

2023.05.28 23:39 mondrianbox Trip to Mackinac Island—Recommended Dispos?

Trip to Mackinac Island—Recommended Dispos?
We’re taking a trip to Mackinac Island soon, driving from IL. Hoping to take advantage of MI’s prices, especially since we are heading deeper into the state and not just border hopping.
Mainly looking to buy edibles, maybe a few pre-rolls, floweshake, and vape pens if the price is particularly good.
I’ve found these shops that are just off the interstate:
  • Green Koi (Douglas)
  • New Standard (Saugatuck, Sand Lake)
  • Pharmhouse Wellness (Grand Rapids)
  • Ascend (Grand Rapids)
  • Lume (Cedar Springs, Mackinac City)
  • Premiere Provisions (Big Rapids)
  • Cloud Cannabis (Gaylord)
Open to other suggestions, too! Thanks for your input and good vibes to all.
submitted by mondrianbox to Michigents [link] [comments]

2023.05.28 23:31 jereste_anonyme Histoire de ma grand mère

Histoire de ma grand mère
Excusez moi j’ai la flemme de tout recopier
submitted by jereste_anonyme to u/jereste_anonyme [link] [comments]

2023.05.28 23:30 creampielover556 I’m (35M) getting taken advantage of my wife (32F) aren’t I?)

So I’m going to try to keep this as short as possible but I really need an outsiders perspective.
So my (32F) wife who I (35M) married because I love told me about a week before we got married that she needed papers. At the time I honestly did not put much thought into it because yo I was flat broke and going through custodial hearings with my ex wife. I was stressed, anxious and on the verge of a breakdown but my now wife struck through it all with me by my side. She’s very beautiful and could probably easily find some rich guy.
But here’s where my issues are starting, even though I was stressed when we met I had my own little place, it was comfortable and super affordable and I had an amazing land lord who treated me like family. My wife begged me to move in with her (we were dating at that time) into what she told me was her home. I had blind faith and trust in her so I didn’t think twice about it.
Fast forward about two years and I’m making about twice as much money but I’m also pretty much the sole provider of the household, she turned in some application with her lawyer about a year and a half ago and I have not been updated about her immigration status.
Now I pay the mortgage, bills, food pretty much 100% of everything including for her two kids, when my son comes visit and we all go out on activities I’m paying for tickets and meals etc for basically five people. She doesn’t even offer to help. This is where I start to get a little pissed off, because I’m paying for everything she has managed to save a ton of money and has bought a car cash, she had enough money to buy another car cash (more info on that one later) she is basically debt free while I’m struggling to pay everything. Also have pets some of which were mine before we met and some were hers but I pay for all the pet food and treats. The other day she almost ripped my head off because I asked her to get a bag of cat food and was basically making me feel like I’m not a man for not paying for it and she doesn’t have money but today she went and got her ears pierced and some vitamin b12 shot all of which probably cost her $400.
Now, more news, the house she convinced me to move into? Well, it’s not really hers, it’s her sister in law and they are fighting so now we’re getting threatened with getting kicked out. Now my wife is anxious and snappy because of the situation we’re in and is expecting me to buy a house with the flip of a switch. I told her I’ve been paying for her and her kids for almost two years and she tells me how she needs a man who has a future. I told her it’s 2023, millions of Americans are one mechanic bills from being homeless and I’ve been putting food on the table and a roof over your head for years. I also told her if she didn’t buy that piece of shit car we would’ve had money for a down payment.
The car in question was an auction car, her family has a business where they buy wrecked cars and fix them. She found some Kia that looked okay in the pictures but I told her to not buy it until we look at it in person. Did she listen? Nope, she sent $8,000 to some guy she barely knows who processed the paperwork for the auction sale. The car was delivered to us and it was a huge pile of hot shit, everything was zip tied together, the transmission was welded directly to the body of the car somehow, that car would’ve needed Jesus Christ himself to restore. So we lost 8 grand on that.
Yesterday my son came over and my wife tells me to come pick up her kids and take them out to eat. Today I bought pizza and took them to movies, it’s not even Sunday and I’ve probably spent $200 on everything (this is a very light weekend, we normally go and do something but given it’s memorial weekend I didn’t want to go to any crazy spots it normally I can spend double that) she didn’t offer a single dollar to help and the cats still need their food lol.
Then today we go to Walmart and the kids all want different brands/flavors of ice cream and some other foods. The total was about $50 so I sent her $20 (the only thing my son got was one little $3 box of ice cream) and she became infuriated that I only sent $20
This is on top of how incredibly lazy she is, she just sits on the couch all day watching TikTok’s then I get home, cook, clean, do laundry entertain the kids. I even pay for her beauty care, car insurance and cell phone.
I’ve spoken to her about this and the situation gets toxic real quick so I don’t know what else to do about this. Any help and or advice, or should I set sail?
submitted by creampielover556 to Marriage [link] [comments]

2023.05.28 23:21 OtherTon Are interest rates in the US going to skyrocket with the looming default crisis? How do leases work with Toyota?

I have a Corolla that I ordered that will be available around 6/20/23. I am worried that the interest rates are going to skyrocket compared to the current 2.9% being offered. Also, if I were to lease the car, what happens after the lease ends? Do you have a guaranteed right to buy the car? What is the financing like? I’ve asked my dealer this but they’ve said it’s really up to Southeastern Toyota Financing, and they don’t know what the deals will be next month.
submitted by OtherTon to COROLLA [link] [comments]

2023.05.28 23:19 ChampagneDoozy Overpricing add ons on Civic Touring

In the market for a new car and found a civic touring near me I wouldn’t be opposed to buying. Only issue is, car jumps from 31k to 35k because dealer is adding on these “options” double the regular price.
Muds guards for $299, wheel locks $199, lojack $1000. How would you advise approaching?
submitted by ChampagneDoozy to carbuying [link] [comments]

2023.05.28 23:10 PHILLYGIRL444 Anxiety and child visitation

I am a single mom raising children on my own since their dad passed away in a tragic accident. Eventually I moved on and started seeing this guy thought he was awesome and thought we were in love. We had 2 children during the relationship. But the 2nd was born after we had split. Reason we split is bc I found out he was abusive and was cheating. Mostly he hit me and yelled at me all the time and broke things. He had been to jail once then again at a later date when I took him back. He was on a retired docket. He now has pending charges that has been put off for 16 months now and is going for a FINAL grand jury hearing at the end of June. He hired a lawyer about 7 months ago to get too see his daughter, but not the other child. We ended up in mediation, long story short he got weekend supervised visits. We meet in a public place but we have a order of protection still active. He was harassing me at every visit and coming to my car and opening my doors and that was not allowed, so I had the judge sign if where I can park 2 buildings away and have someone carry her to him. I have severe PTSD and anxiety.. This has made it a thousand times worse. Each time I have to take her it gets worse and worse. I am now seeing a doctor and I don't know if I should bring up my condition in court. I try to bring somebody with me each time so I can have emotional support but it ends up in a full blown anxiety attack each time. And I have to turn around and get her a couple hours later. Sometimes he comes to the visits sometimes he doesn't. It is very stressful only as I am having ptsd/flashbacks and panic attacks each time. I am trying really hard to manage it. I have not brought this up to the court yet. I also have a lawyer. We have taken him back to court to help get it dropped, But the judge gave him a slap in wrist for now and said to behave himself and told us to a better job co parenting.. I almost blacked out this past time. Any advice? 🙏
submitted by PHILLYGIRL444 to AnxietyDepression [link] [comments]

2023.05.28 22:59 ChampagneDoozy Honda up charging on items.

Went to a local Honda dealership since I’m in the market for a new car since my last one got stolen.
The listing is charging 2x more for these dealer installed options(Mud guards for $300, wheel locks for $200 etc.) Also lojack worth it when I can just AirTag? How would you approach? Car jumped from 31k Civic Touring to 35k
submitted by ChampagneDoozy to buyingcars [link] [comments]

2023.05.28 22:59 MutatedWizard I attended Cannes 2023! Here are my Reviews and Oscar Prognosis

I'm back in Cannes for the third year in a row! I can gladly say that this festival is more than worth the effort, even though it takes a lot of work to make it magical. I've been able to continually attend thanks to the 3 Days in Cannes program, which is offered to people aged 18-28. For any of you in that age range, I highly recommend you take up the opportunity to attend!
You can check out a ton of pictures I took on my Instagram Account and other reactions at my Letterboxd. While I didn't get any personal pictures with celebrities like last year, I did briefly cross paths with Alice Rohrwacher after the premiere of La Chimera, Nanni Moretti on his way to the closing ceremony, and Jonathan Glazer as he was walking away from his photoshoot with the Grand Prix.
Just as I have done with the 2021 and 2022 editions with this post, I’m going to share my thoughts on the 13 films I saw (a new record!), as well as reactions I heard from people about other films. I’ll also give my Oscar prognosis on each one.
I'll list them in the order I saw them, and then give a final ranking at the end. This was probably the weakest edition of the three years I've been. But don't let that statement mislead you, because a bad year is still pretty good.
And before you comment, I was NOT able to see any of the out-of-competition premieres like Killers of the Flower Moon, Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny, or Elemental. I also won't be covering them in this post since those movies have been widely talked about and will be major talking points for months to come.


My Review: With his own version of Bardo, Nanni Moretti provides humorous meta commentary on his personal and professional life, as well as the state of modern filmmaking.
While not all that innovative or groundbreaking, it's still light and breezy enough to be a good time. (6/10)
Oscar Prognosis: It received much worse reviews than I anticipated. Moretti has never been on the Academy's radar either, and it looks almost certain that La Chimera will be Italy's submission for the International Feature category.
My Review: 197 minutes with the biggest asshole in all of Turkey. Will definitely require (and deserve) a rewatch at some point, although I'm not exactly sure I'll ever have the ambition to dive back into this again. (6/10)
Oscar Prognosis: My dissatisfaction puts me in the minority, as many other people walked away thinking this was one of Ceylan's best. It's ultra talky and ultra slow (just like all Ceylan films). Merve Dizdar's win for Best Actress was fully deserved, as she provides a much more interesting character arc compared to the main "protagonist."
Ceylan has represented Turkey numerous times for Best International Feature, but he has yet to be nominated. I doubt this will be the film to crack him in, as it's respected more than loved. It also doesn't have a US distributor, so we'll have to see who picks it up.
My Review: Kore-eda brings Rashomon into the modern age with Monster, a movie that is both much more gentle and deadlier than it's title implies. While I hope be goes back to writing his own scripts, Kore-eda's touch as a director is still undeniable, especially during the final two acts. (7/10)
Oscar Prognosis: This film is eerily similar to Lukas Dhont's Close from last year, which I mean in the best way possible. Shoplifters remains as Kore-eda's only film to receive Oscar attention. I don't think Monster will bring him back, especially with Japan likely to submit Miyazaki's How Do You Live?.
My Review: Grab the marshmallows and graham crackers because Todd Haynes is bringing the camp! Portman and Moore have delicious chemistry, with Charles Melton taking over from Austin Butler as the new CW movie star. I'm hoping the Netflix acquisition will allow a new generation of cinephiles to appreciate Haynes. (7/10)
Oscar Prognosis: I want to give major props to everyone involved with this film for not spoiling just how silly it is. Portman and Moore are going BIG with their performances, and so Is Todd Hayne's direction. This is "trash" handled by masters of the craft. I'm kind of doubtful of it being a big Oscar player on account of its weirdness. If anything, maybe the screenplay and Portman can get in with the last slots. We'll know more once Netflix outlines their release strategy for it, as I don't know if they'll bring back into the conversation with the fall festivals, or just kind of toss it aside.
My Review: Nothing like climbing the Lumiere steps at 7am to watch some stepmom-stepson action. To be honest, I only saw this so I could see at least one movie in the Grand Theatre, as everything else from schedule was one of the secondary theaters. (6/10)
Oscar Prognosis: Won't be submitted by France, nor does it have good reviews. No chance whatsoever. It's not like a Catherine Breillat film was going to gel with the Oscar's anyway.
My Review: Sickening in the most calculated way possible, The Zone of Interest is Jonathan Glazer's answer to the question of how evil can exist unchecked. Soak it all in during your first watch, because I doubt you'll ever want to view the world this way again. (8/10)
Oscar Prognosis: This is going to be the movie that critics will rally around during the season, so don't be surprised if NYFCC and/or LAFCA throw it their laurels. There's rumors that A24 will be releasing it around December, meaning they're likely to tour it around all of the major fall festivals.
I know we've been going by the "one international director nominated per year" rule for a while now, but I think we need to look at it a little more specifically. Every international directing nominee in the expanded era has been for a movie that won a prize at Cannes: 2011: Michel Hazanavicius (The Artist); 2012: Michael Haneke (Amour); 2018: Paweł Pawlikowski (Cold War); 2019: Bong Joon-ho (Parasite); 2020*: Thomas Vinterberg (Another Round); 2021: Ryusuke Hamaguchi (Drive My Car); 2022: Ruben Östlund (Triangle of Sadness). Glazer could, and probably will, join that list. This is such a directorial showcase that that specific branch has been known to favor.
However, I wouldn't go around thinking this will be a strong contender in many other categories. This is a cold arthouse movie that is a miserable watch, meaning it could be a turnoff for a good chunk of voters. Think of it more like a Terrence Malick movie.
The script and the actors, while great, aren't the things the movie focuses on, nor are they the features you walk away most impressed by. Mica Levi's score is incredibly haunting, but it rarely featured (maybe less than 25% of the movie), so I'm not sure how much traction it will get.
It's likely between the UK and Poland for submitting it for Best International Feature. My money is on Poland considering that's where a good chunk of the funds came from, and the story is more closely connected to that region. Whoever submits it, this will be one of the major contenders.
My Review: I'm a simple man. I see some costumes and hear a big score, I'm satisfied. This could have used a little more directorial flair (which slightly begs the question for why it was even here to begin with), but Vikander and Law make up for that with their fiery performances. (7/10)
Oscar Prognosis: It only had an outside chance to begin with, and the reviews have mostly sunken any sliver of hope. Dune: Part Two, Killers of the Flower Moon, Oppenheimer, and Barbie are likely to crowd the craft categories, making it extremely doubtful this gets in anywhere. Jude Law's performance is a standout, but there won't be any passion for the movie to take him anywhere. This really should have been a TIFF Gala premiere.
My Review: You might as well walk into this movie with a headache because you're going to get one five minutes in. You might as well not watch this movie if you're squeamish to blood and needles. You might as well not watch this movie if you want to watch interesting characters in an original story. You might as well not watch this movie. (5/10)
Oscar Prognosis: There really needs to be limit out in place for how much Sean Penn can be at Cannes, because his output these past few years has been putrid. No Oscar chances, nor will anyone probably see it.
My Review: Disappointing isn't the right word (since I still liked it), but there was something special missing that prevented me from loving it like everyone else. 150 minutes doesn't necessarily fly by, no matter how flawless Sandra Huller's performance is. Maybe Saint Omer filled me up on French courtroom dramas and I'm still not ready for more? (7/10)
Oscar Prognosis: I didn't think Neon would get much out of Triangle of Sadness last year, so I don't want to count them out again. This will likely be France's submission for Best International Feature, and possibly be their best chance to win the category after years of a disappointment. Similar to Jonathan Glazer, Sandra Hüller's lead performance will be a critic's favorite. I'm doubtful about Best Picture and any of the other top categories, but I could see still see it happening if other big contenders start dropping off.
My Review: The serenity of doing the mundane, and the bliss we could all achieve if we didn't overcomplicate everything we do. One of those movies that sounds terrible on paper, and yet is oh so beautiful. Watch this on a calm summer day with some tea. (7/10)
Oscar Prognosis: This a Japanese-German co-production, so either country could submit it. Wenders has never been nominated in the Best International Feature category (although that's mostly because it's been forever since he made a good narrative feature). With Neon also behind it, there's an outside shot of a nomination.
My Review: I've always had a blind spot for African films, so I felt compelled to let this be a mini-introduction. Plus, it's barely 80 minutes so it slotted easily into my schedule. It has a bold style about it, with some striking cinematography and music cues. A stronger narrative would have lifted it higher. A great debut, and I'd be happy to watch Sy's next film if it were to come back to the festival. (6/10)
Oscar Prognosis: It doesn't have a US distributor, nor do I think will get a US release in time for contention. It won't matter, as the reviews are tepid and the movie doesn't have the gravitas to stay noticed.
My Review: By far the strangest film in his already strange filmography, Asteroid City is Wes Anderson's attempt at a Christopher Nolan movie. It's got all the trappings you've come to love (or hate), with some really interesting methods to express its ideas. I'm already planning more than one rewatch once it opens in theaters! (8/10)
Oscar Prognosis: I'm a Wes Anderson apologist (The French Dispatch still remains one of my all-time favorite movies after seeing it at Cannes 2021), so don't think my rave reaction will be uniformly applied. This movie is way weirder than you think it's going to be, which is evidenced by the divided critical reactions.
As with all Anderson projects, it's impeccably crafted. But with The French Dispatch being blanked in a relatively weaker year, I'm not so sure this will crack any categories. Maybe Best Production Design, but there are so many other heavy hitters I'd predict first.
My Review: This was rumored for a prize, which would have absolutely pissed me off. Painfully flat and oversimplified, with way too much time spent speechifying instead of actually building characters. Basically boils down to "racism is bad" and ends without resolving the main plot and one of the subplots. (4/10)
Oscar Prognosis: Ken Loach is not an Oscar player, so don't expect anything.
Ranking of Films I Saw
  1. The Zone of Interest
  2. Asteroid City
  3. Monster
  4. Firebrand
  5. Anatomy of a Fall
  6. Perfect Days
  7. May December
  8. A Brighter Tomorrow
  9. About Dry Grasses
  10. Banel & Adama
  11. Last Summer
  12. Black Flies
  13. The Old Oak


*I’m only going to talk about the films that I heard about from other people and might stand a chance of actually getting released in America for Oscar contention. You have to remember that about 1/3 of the films at Cannes never get released outside of their native country*
It won the Jury Prize and was acquired by Mubi, so there's some hope it gets into the Best International Feature category. Kaurismäki has been nominated before, and I expect this to pop up at the fall festivals.
The reviews from highbrow critics have been great, but there was a much more mixed reaction from the "regular" people I talked to. I expect Italy to submit it, and it has a decent chance of getting nominated.
This was definitely the surprise of the festival. It premiered pretty late and it immediately became the talk of the town the day after. It still doesn't have US distribution, so I'm not sure what prospects it has. Honestly, the best case scenario is that it becomes a cult classic years later and inspires some food-themed screenings at indie cinemas.

These are my thoughts on what I experienced at Cannes this year. If you have any questions about the films, or anything about the festival in general, feel free to comment below or DM me.
submitted by MutatedWizard to oscarrace [link] [comments]

2023.05.28 22:52 RepresentativeAct519 Some spots from North America

Couple of specials list cars in this one so hang tight
Ferrari 599 GTB (Toronto, Canada),-79.3720855,3a,51.9y,176.71h,58.86t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1sKVdrfns5EDy4MJ9ua08iXQ!2e0!5s20110801T000000!7i13312!8i6656?entry=ttu
Jeep Grand Cherokee Trackhawk (Toronto, Canada),-79.371549,3a,43.9y,27.55h,78.25t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1sVMlQrav7h5tehBXVVexerg!2e0!7i16384!8i8192
F82 BMW M4 (Westmount, Canada),-73.6067032,3a,19.2y,240.42h,76.29t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1soChtb_DdkM2kQzMKNjJcTg!2e0!5s20190601T000000!7i16384!8i8192
Fisker Karma (Westmount, Canada),-73.6043562,3a,21.429304y,38.582966h,91.593445t/data=!3m4!1e1!3m2!1sKRjanXZW2k4PZ2DFHymMiw!2e0?lucs=47067412&g_ep=CAISBjYuNjQuMxgAIIGBASoINDcwNjc0MTJCAkNB&g_st=ic
BMW X6M Competition (Westmount, Canada),-73.6055898,3a,15.000000y,34.774914h,85.601570t/data=!3m4!1e1!3m2!1sDfQ4sODNgfADROBwmQMf1Q!2e0?lucs=47067412&g_ep=CAISBjYuNjQuMxgAIIGBASoINDcwNjc0MTJCAkNB&g_st=ic
Porsche 911 991.2 Targa 4 GTS (Montreal, Canada),-73.5489945,3a,15y,49.14h,76.59t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1ssdUxI1KLpuMpDeOVyVhAWQ!2e0!5s20220501T000000!7i16384!8i8192
Jaguar XKR (Laval, Canada),-73.7557928,3a,75y,241.32h,77.38t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1svKbnWPfCvwzQViMIU6QwTw!2e0!5s20120901T000000!7i13312!8i6656
BMW X5M Competition (Toronto, Canada),-79.3751783,3a,37.1y,77.32h,81.6t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1siSpGK0WgeU5jEBMqTp-WTg!2e0!5s20210901T000000!7i16384!8i8192?entry=ttu
Porsche 911 997.2 GT3 (Toronto, Canada),-79.3758663,3a,15.8y,332.01h,81.98t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1sCohWcWWz7CsYUIM0PySN1A!2e0!5s20110801T000000!7i13312!8i6656
Bentley Arnage (Greenwich, Connecticut),-73.6272184,3a,15y,81.02h,86.03t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1sc9OIqDn35hmX81ANn1Mzrg!2e0!5s20230401T000000!7i16384!8i8192?hl=nl&authuser=0&entry=ttu
Mercedes-Benz GLS 63S AMG (Greenwich, Connecticut),-73.626067,3a,15y,155.08h,85.03t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1sxz1u009V-ZDNO4NIDi0LTA!2e0!5s20230401T000000!7i16384!8i8192?hl=nl&authuser=0
Porsche Panamera Turbo S (Greenwich, Connecticut),-73.626075,3a,57.3y,256.8h,61.23t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1sOGRabTFu0BeLsT9hfeMT5Q!2e0!5s20191001T000000!7i16384!8i8192?hl=sk
S63 AMG (Dania Beach, Florida),-80.1140469,3a,15y,19.79h,85.71t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1sfGoCuQT9gS2sWWV-bXl6vA!2e0!7i16384!8i8192?entry=ttu
Nissan R35 GT-R (Hallandale Beach, Florida),-80.1424888,3a,15y,82.83h,87.17t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1s5sHoMAhKmPmKxxpE-tKOKw!2e0!7i16384!8i8192
Audi RS e-tron GT (Hallandale Beach, Florida),-80.1426054,3a,15.7y,47.08h,82.14t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1s5ZgHA24z8yoUAQzNKs0eOQ!2e0!7i16384!8i8192
Bentley GTC II (Hallandale Beach, Florida),-80.1502357,3a,15.3y,38.44h,83.36t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1sd4MTvZIySNz77n2rh-2yyQ!2e0!7i16384!8i8192
Bentley GTC III (West Palm Beach, Florida),-80.0525928,3a,54.8y,227.76h,69.41t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1sNUw4poAVggdI5MB599vn4g!2e0!7i16384!8i8192?entry=ttu
Bentley Flying Spur II (West Palm Beach, Florida),-80.0498685,3a,15y,261.91h,85.32t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1sYhYfSUVhocG8A4eWCsrSOQ!2e0!5s20230301T000000!7i16384!8i8192?hl=da
Ferrari California T (West Palm Beach, Florida),-80.0495351,3a,15y,208.6h,84.35t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1s3xmJNvA8jnYVxRjVNTUHCw!2e0!5s20230301T000000!7i16384!8i8192?hl=da
Bentley GTC I (West Palm Beach, Florida),-80.0481363,3a,19.1y,204.1h,80.35t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1sLh5n90YS68I6vYlcKu2_Kw!2e0!5s20230301T000000!7i16384!8i8192?hl=da
Aston-Martin DBX 707 (Palm Beach, Florida),-80.041,3a,17.7y,0.86h,79.57t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1sL-jAhqwTLHk3KO7YelyYQw!2e0!5s20230301T000000!7i16384!8i8192?hl=da
Bentley GTC III (Palm Beach, Florida),-80.0400526,3a,41.9y,208.32h,78.74t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1sqOMqlTs20pHyaCzo77xxbQ!2e0!5s20230301T000000!7i16384!8i8192?hl=da
Chrysler TC by Maserati (Palm Beach, Florida),-80.0379368,3a,15y,187.79h,86.5t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1sqHxGbXzIyux9FU3r5idDiw!2e0!5s20230301T000000!7i16384!8i8192?hl=da
(Turn around and move a little bit on this one) Aston-Martin DBX 1/500, Beige Mercedes-Benz G63 AMG, Bentley Continental GT III, Maserati Quattroporte VI (Palm Beach, Florida),-80.0378121,3a,53.5y,331.53h,76.73t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1s0HQaJCdcDfxFGNOVmwLowg!2e0!5s20230301T000000!7i16384!8i8192?hl=da&entry=ttu
Yellow-green Aston-Martin V8 Vantage 2018 and Porsche 911 991 Turbo S (Palm Beach, Florida),-80.0377483,3a,75.9y,296.12h,68.65t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1swMNHWP3sFTyRlkTi3Zmmmw!2e0!5s20230301T000000!7i16384!8i8192?hl=da
Bentley GTC I (2X), Aston-Martin DBX 707 (Palm Beach, Florida),-80.0377162,3a,47.6y,334.15h,82.89t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1s2hr9EAxlAu_FthDmFFtXvw!2e0!5s20230301T000000!7i16384!8i8192?hl=da&entry=ttu
Notice: the following spots are not from NA but they're absolutely insane so I'm going to post them anyways
Lamborghini Countach! (Chuo City, Tokyo, Japan),139.7706144,3a,15y,37.96h,85.55t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1sAFqIZsPTXLgkNF-ox1mNuA!2e0!5s20130701T000000!7i13312!8i6656
Jaguar C-Type Replica! (Neuilly-sur-Seine, France),2.2704389,3a,49.3y,213.27h,59.38t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1sOIeR_Co8dtqD1DDX-nWCBw!2e0!5s20120801T000000!7i13312!8i6656
Back to NA now...
Mercedes-Benz E63S AMG (Toronto, Canada),-79.3788851,3a,15y,336.43h,84.05t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1sGaNzY7pVok6k-UfEDLxFyg!2e0!7i16384!8i8192
Bentley Bentayga I (Boca Raton, Florida),-80.1177042,3a,20.2y,16.04h,84.74t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1so-y_os-I6IUkXmeM88n4qw!2e0!7i16384!8i8192?entry=ttu
Bentley Continental GT III (Boca Raton, Florida),-80.1135253,3a,15y,71.53h,75.68t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1sDspdh7XLIgSVqeOLcwkA9Q!2e0!7i16384!8i8192?entry=ttu
Land Rover Range Rover Sport SVR (Boca Raton, Florida),-80.1088103,3a,15y,232.82h,88.14t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1s3CdpGB43RnljyM6feuZyjA!2e0!7i16384!8i8192?entry=ttu
Bentley Bentayga 2020 & Porsche 911 991.2 GT3! (Boca Raton, Florida),-80.0945941,3a,16.9y,238.11h,86.39t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1szEhBkibJfIsRKaDvGgTGRQ!2e0!7i16384!8i8192?entry=ttu
Bentley GTC III (Palm Beach, Florida),-80.0370388,3a,15y,354.69h,87.72t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1sOcZtXrX1Z8siTX5RAl7H-A!2e0!5s20220501T000000!7i16384!8i8192?entry=ttu
F82 BMW M4 (City of Industry, California),-117.916259,3a,48.9y,97.38h,78.86t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1svzxk78vQcifOpD4tzIicLg!2e0!7i16384!8i8192?entry=ttu
Ferrari California & Jaguar F-Type R (Vaughan, Canada),-79.4937574,3a,15y,45.44h,87.49t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1s19HpKE6cLhM8xuayFJGvkw!2e0!5s20211001T000000!7i16384!8i8192?entry=ttu
Jaguar F-Pace SVR (Toronto, Canada),-79.4109247,3a,53.1y,270.58h,65.84t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1sV0Db9Hr2dCDHNesfxxNsGg!2e0!5s20210601T000000!7i16384!8i8192
Jaguar F-Type R (Toronto, Canada),-79.4110303,3a,15y,304.29h,82.31t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1s9LccL3AU9ppDJxbVuxksXg!2e0!5s20160601T000000!7i13312!8i6656
Audi RS7 (C8) (Carefree, Arizona),-111.9086075,3a,15y,65.39h,87.3t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1sVX_5ktP-42tmIbYmzfmN1A!2e0!7i16384!8i8192
Porsche 911 993 Turbo! (Carefree, Arizona),-111.9086342,3a,15y,86.54h,82.53t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1sv_v6eY78ilmdYfx5s22Dbg!2e0!7i16384!8i8192
Porsche 987 Boxster Spyder! (Carefree, Arizona),-111.908813,3a,52.3y,97.42h,63.41t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1sQj1g7hVju2haHKMZx9-60Q!2e0!7i16384!8i8192
Bentley Mulsanne (St-Lambert, Canada),-73.507778,3a,15y,191.59h,84.42t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1shxJWuzv9fnws0VdDGo9iSQ!2e0!5s20120801T000000!7i13312!8i6656
Ferrari California T (North Miami Beach, Florida),-80.1590452,3a,15y,84.68h,82.75t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1ssSatn1ohRUXbwSvnYvCmQg!2e0!7i16384!8i8192
Bentley Azure (Grey area, North Miami Beach, Florida),-80.1566714,3a,15y,226.7h,84.67t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1s8NMaHkoqz-WPKPyP9jYAtQ!2e0!7i16384!8i8192?entry=ttu
Porsche Taycan Turbo Cross Turismo,-80.1560761,3a,15y,107.33h,81.01t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1sWdt0HyrbnhNJu5TKWGKgDQ!2e0!7i16384!8i8192
Bentley Continental GT III (Naples, Florida),-81.8003467,3a,15.9y,81.59h,83.48t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1sBWAc3yJArfPxWgp_3-4T2A!2e0!7i16384!8i8192?entry=ttu
Lexus LC500 (Naples, Florida),-81.7950279,3a,15y,147.32h,85.48t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1sp4qjisdTNLF6EBtptMO-lQ!2e0!7i16384!8i8192?entry=ttu
Bentley GTC III (Naples, Florida),-81.790643,3a,15y,57.47h,88.19t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1szUIiiRwr9RiIvwDKHRl4ww!2e0!7i16384!8i8192?entry=ttu
2020 Bentley Bentayga (Boca Raton, Florida),-80.171471,3a,15y,340.57h,83.32t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1snPE-iCN2BczYNScgvNHS0A!2e0!7i16384!8i8192?entry=ttu
Aston-Martin DBX 707 (Boca Raton, Florida),-80.1738608,3a,15y,351.12h,84.77t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1sujhqRG9NWOk7tK9npyrJVw!2e0!7i16384!8i8192?entry=ttu
Mercedes-Benz S63 AMG Sedan (Boca Raton, Florida),-80.1718828,3a,15y,53.39h,86.77t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1spL_yu4FoTnHpOaohfq_V1w!2e0!7i16384!8i8192?entry=ttu
Chevrolet C7 Corvette Z06 (Boca Raton, Florida),-80.1696046,3a,42.2y,329.69h,67.87t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1snMy8R0wHVYkFPQhJLhA1BQ!2e0!7i16384!8i8192?entry=ttu
Karma GS-6 (Boca Raton, Florida),-80.1459712,3a,15y,19.13h,87.51t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1sYUn1jBm6Xin27qj4mxgQow!2e0!7i16384!8i8192?entry=ttu
Aston-Martin DBS Superleggera (Boca Raton, Florida),-80.127644,3a,15y,271.5h,88.87t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1swYPdfS5BZ_ahJOoo_-9hOQ!2e0!7i16384!8i8192?entry=ttu
McLaren 765LT! (Boca Raton, Florida),-80.1261778,3a,15y,190.53h,88.33t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1szuRRjbniJ1xG9V9Jn49TSw!2e0!7i16384!8i8192?entry=ttu
Lexus LC500 and Chevrolet Corvette C8 Stingray (Boca Raton, Florida),-80.1258813,3a,50.4y,287.36h,79.18t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1s-VzuL8d1-NYjBAMhWeLHZg!2e0!7i16384!8i8192?entry=ttu
Lexus RC F (Boca Raton, Florida),-80.1213257,3a,15y,229.42h,85.08t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1s9S4ilDwXHgGk79-38gd8NA!2e0!7i16384!8i8192?entry=ttu
Ferrari 488 GTB (Boca Raton, Florida),-80.1262475,3a,15y,91.35h,85.85t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1sgMBZ-2epF9aQq1IuA4ozmg!2e0!7i16384!8i8192?entry=ttu
Porsche 911 996 Turbo (Boca Raton, Florida),-80.1256071,3a,15.4y,304.44h,74.94t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1sdcvB0_pXaM2JwYXrCvpc2w!2e0!7i16384!8i8192?entry=ttu
AC Cobra (Boca Raton, Florida, most likely a replica),-80.1253328,3a,15y,77.97h,85.66t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1sLOBKRbhCE-uWvXAglv1gnw!2e0!7i16384!8i8192?entry=ttu
Bentley GTC III (Boca Raton, Florida),-80.1212047,3a,27.6y,47.55h,84.93t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1sfFwEQul7puQAozpMB5HPlA!2e0!7i16384!8i8192?entry=ttu
Lotus Evora (Boca Raton, Florida),-80.1211306,3a,15y,169.13h,88.01t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1sz_SBieWrRojINtjs42FYAA!2e0!7i16384!8i8192?entry=ttu
Chevrolet C7 Corvette ZR1 (Boca Raton, Florida),-80.1211756,3a,15y,355.91h,87.14t,0data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1siCbcAfbykgPldJAz06MLYw!2e0!7i16384!8i8192?entry=ttu
Alpina B6 (Boca Raton, Florida),-80.1212375,3a,17.2y,51.97h,86.28t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1sY5wqAitKZzMNHUl3ucKqvw!2e0!7i16384!8i8192?entry=ttu
Mercedes-AMG GT63S AMG (Boca Raton, Florida),-80.1212129,3a,15y,250.91h,85.87t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1slAbDQAkj4L9J8lo2bm2w3g!2e0!7i16384!8i8192?entry=ttu
McLaren 720s (Boca Raton, Florida),-80.1212023,3a,15y,248.75h,86.05t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1stwil-UiXcK21gwvYgDXQDw!2e0!7i16384!8i8192?entry=ttu

That's pretty much it, thanks for reading!
submitted by RepresentativeAct519 to StreetviewCarSpotting [link] [comments]

2023.05.28 22:47 OneHumanBill Buying Car (Private Seller) And Driving Home To Georgia

Hey everybody. I'm in a weird situation.
Next Saturday I'm flying to Orlando to pick up a car I'm buying from a friend of mine. It's not sight unseen and I know the car very well. That's not the problem.
The real problem is that I want to drive it home to Georgia. I can't drive in Florida without tags, but I can't get even temporary tags in Orlando on Saturday because the DMV is closed. I can't stay in Orlando until Monday because I have this pesky job I have to get back to. I can't pre-register in Georgia because they require that I already have proof of ownership, which I won't have until Saturday, and besides which Georgia is much more lax about such things than is Florida.
Any ideas what I can do? Information is pretty scant online and seems to be easy if I were buying from a Dealer, but I'm not doing that. It's a real chicken-and-egg unless I borrow my buddy's tags and then mail them back to him but I'm a little uncomfortable doing that.
submitted by OneHumanBill to florida [link] [comments]

2023.05.28 22:47 uktabi Foxholes [ch. 8] - NOP fanfic

credit to u/SpacePaladin15 for the world of NOP
this one was really fun to write =)

Memory transcription subject: “Teach,” UN Expeditionary Forces
Date [standardized human time]: September 29, 2136 (two days after the invasion of the Gojid Cradle)
The notion had sprang unbidden to my mind. And far be it from me to deprive my new companions of it.
“Now that you mention it… we had actually had an idea for that, but it wasn’t really feasible at the time.”
Rich and Kazeth both cocked their heads in unison. I almost laughed at that.
“UN dropships are equipped to support extended campaigns. So, they have supplies on them. You know, guns, ammo, other equipment. Rations. And we,” I said theatrically. “Know where one is.”
Rich’s brow furrowed in confusion, before shooting back up in understanding. “Oh!” He said, turning in his seat to look out towards the downed ship out in the fields. What was at one point going to get off this fucked-up planet. “Hmm. You sure any of the supplies survived that? It seems kind of…” He trailed off.
“Well, that was half of the problem. I have no idea how much of the supplies in there survived, if any at all.”
“What was the other half of the problem?” Kazeth asked, staring out towards the still-smoking black spot out in the distance of the field.
“It’s far. It’s… hold on.” I snapped up my marksman’s rifle from the floor, and tucked into a kneeling position, pointing the scope out towards the wreckage. I held my breath to help steady the thing, waiting for the rangefinder readout on the scope’s hud to stabilize. “It’s about… three kilometers out.” I hefted the rifle back into a carrying position and stood back up. “Doesn’t sound that bad. But the problem is, or was, that it was just us two. We can’t leave the gojid undefended for that long, walking all the way out there. The raids start fast,” I said, snapping my fingers for emphasis as my other hand set the rifle back down in its resting place. “Only takes a couple minutes’ lapse and they’re gone. Plus, the time spent poking through it, loading up a cart… We decided we wouldn’t risk it until we absolutely had to. But now with you two here…”
“Why not just take a car out there? There’s gotta be cars around here.”
“You’d think, huh? Nah, they don’t really have cars like we do. You notice the streets here aren’t really driveable? And, kind of hard to tell now, since the place is pretty fucked up, but a lot of these roofs are flat, and reinforced, so that the automated shuttles can land on them. And look,” I pointed out in the other direction, tracing my finger slowly across the terrain. “High-speed rail line. That’s where most of their supplies were coming in. Obviously that’s not working now, given, you know, the invasion.” I turned back to the other two and gave a short shrug. “No cars here. Only car around is uhh… the one you guys showed up in. That I killed.”
Rich shook his head slightly, as if clearing it. “Huh.”
“What’d you think of that grouping though? Pretty good right?”
“Yeah, ya really killed the shit out of our truck, man. Well, wait, then how come there’s a road leading in?”
I shrugged again. “Guess it’s more for outsiders coming in, and not for the people here. It’s just different here, I guess, no one told us anything about it, we’re figuring it out ourselves.” A second thought sprang to mind, as I was thinking about how different the Cradle was from Earth. “Hey… how come you know so much about earth, Kazeth?”
The alien’s tail twitched a bit. “You think me the only arxur to bear a fascination with humanity? No, we have all been watching very closely. Especially the higher up the command structure you go. Humanity wandering onto the galactic stage is the most interesting thing to happen to all of us, Betterment and Federation both, in two-hundred years. The future is balanced in your hands.”
“What do you mean?”
“The logistics of galactic warfare have enforced a status quo. The Federation’s fleets are larger than ours, but they cannot risk direct attack. To do so would be to leave their core systems vulnerable. Instead, their fleets are relegated to a rotating defense. They move as a herd, protecting one sector at a time, relegating us to never more than small raids against their undefended sectors. And the Dominion cannot launch a full-scale attack, or we would risk utter annihilation. It is a careful balance, in which neither side ever has the upper hand… and humanity is poised to upset it.”
It was all clicking together in my head. “That’s why they’re so scared of us! They think we might pick the other side!”
“Precisely. The panic is evident right here, on this very ground. The Gojid think you a threat. That is why you invaded preemptively, yes?”
“Yeah, but, ya still haven’t explained exactly how you know all of this, though.” Rich piped up.
“Yeahhh…” I said accusingly. “You’ve been spying on us, haven’t ya, mate?”
The Arxur rolled her shoulders dismissively. “Yes. On you and the Federation both. Our FTL communication technology far surpasses the Federation’s, as it must. It is our lifeblood. It is how we know which sectors are unguarded. And is it not unreasonable to expect that we would turn our ears towards Earth as well? The Dominion still has not decided whether to treat humanity as a threat or a potential ally.”
“You sneaky bastards,” I said, half-jokingly.
“You would do the same.”
I would have been perturbed, had I not been too occupied with curiosity. Spying? That’s for the UN to care about. I had more pressing curiosities. “So, what do the Arxur think of what they’ve learned about us?”
“As a whole? It is difficult to say. I think that we are… divided. The Arxur know that Earth is thriving and free, in a way that they aren’t. But they also see that you ally with the prey races, and that you find us loathsome. It is hard not to perceive this as a rejection, a statement of enmity. But those higher up the chain possess a clearer picture; truth trickles down, after all. They see that you are eager to share Earth’s bounty, and that the Federation rejects it. Because of course they would. The natural order is an abomination in their eyes, and they would sooner see Earth ‘cleansed’ than they would share it.” She paused, her head tilted slightly to the side. She looked at me, though her eyes flicked around evasively. “I know for a fact that some of the senior leadership in Betterment still hope that humanity would share it with us instead, and that they are willing to gamble our future on that… hope.”
“But you haven’t even tried to contact us. At least, not as far as I’m aware.”
“It is only a matter of time, now. But no, At the moment, such an attempt would be in defiance of Betterment. Officially, we are still taking the position that we are superior, and that you are closer to prey than to allies.”
“Sounds like the ‘official position’ isn’t all that universal then, huh? And among the higher-ups, no less.”
Kazeth flashed her fangs. “Indeed. I have been around for a long time, under Betterment. I’ve silenced my fair share of dissent, and yet… I have never seen the cracks show like this. It is… different. This time, it is coming from the top, instead of the bottom. You’ve proven a rather different picture of reality, turned everything on its head. It’s all changed, since you’ve walked on stage.”
Rich scratched at his chin, looking deep in thought. “Hm,” he stated, finally.
“Hm,” I agreed.
“What?” Kazeth asked, shifting her head quizzically.
“Nothing,” Rich responded. “It’s just… interesting. It’s, well, It suddenly hits me, that we are learning as much about you now, as you might have learned about us with your whole time spying. Our first picture of the Arxur was, umm, simple. Not much nuance.”
Kazeth hummed in acceptance, and I couldn’t help but agree. I opened my mouth to empathize, but instead, another curious thought hijacked it. “Y’know, that’s the second time you’ve used a theater analogy, now. Is that translating correctly?”
“It is.”
“So you have theater? And other arts?”
She slowly turned her head to fix me with a stare, which I felt myself withering under. Of course they have art. They are a sapient, intelligent species, I admonished myself over the stupid question. You are a teacher -- you should know better.
Kazeth, once she had finished letting me drown myself in the awkwardness of my own making, answered patiently, “Yes. We do. Although, they are mostly propaganda. I remember as a hatchling, when our educators would show films in our classes, and we would be --”
Rich stood up abruptly, face screwed up in concentration. Then I heard it too.
He looked over to me, consternation etched into his features. “I hear ships.”
Realization dawned, and horror settled. “Raid! Shit-fuck!” I scrambled for the radio. “Priya! It’s another raid!”
“Copy!” Her voice came through the radio. “Get set up. And send Rich down!”
The arxur raid came swiftly, as they always did. Rich had barely scooped up his rifle and started the dash down the stairs, as the dropships came screaming to a halt above the edges of the town. There were three of them. Three teams. They quickly descended their ropes down to the ground, four to five in each party. I watched them through my scope, tracking them. They grouped together, stalking through the streets with their heads low and shoulders hunched, sniffing at the doors and windows. Kazeth stayed beside me, similarly hunched. The scales on her crest and shoulders puffing up as her eyes bore towards the hunters, and her nostrils twitched. She might not have been able to see them clearly at this distance, but…
“I have their scent; they will have ours as well. They will move towards us.”
“I know.” I tried to rein in the hammering of my heart. Focus. Concentrate. Steady. Breathe. I pulled the rifle tighter under my prone body. The shooter is calm and collected. The hunters were still too far away, and unknowingly ducking my angle between the buildings. Not yet. I thumbed the radio. “Westernmost street. I count somewhere between twelve and fifteen.”
“Copy.” Rich had been linked in to our comms.
I had to force myself to keep breathing, to keep thinking. To keep the panic at bay. I didn’t know how many more raids I -- No! Stay here.
I kept my scope on the hunters, but watched the two lonely forms of Priya and Rich hustle down the western street to meet them. They picked out a defensible spot. Through the scope, I watched the hunters turn their snouts in their direction, one by one. They dropped low, prowling towards them. Hunting.
“They smell you. Incoming.”
“Conserve your ammo, Rich.” Priya’s voice came across the channel, the staticky garble failing to conceal her icy urgency. “We don’t have enough for a firefight. We can’t fight them man-to-man. Force them to come to us, leave their cover -- let Teach take care of ‘em as much as you can.”
The hunters rushed down the street, driven by their noses. The first walked fully into my sights. I waited for more to enter my view, to capitalize on their vulnerability. I exhaled a long, shaky breath as each one drew closer to my companions. I resisted until I could wait no longer.
I fired. The recoil slammed into my shoulder. The lead arxur went down.
I fired again. The second went down. Disarray as the rest ducked and scrambled.
Again. A third went down. Some went for cover, but a few others rushed forward; they fell under Rich and Priya’s crossfire.
The less impulsive ones who sought cover were better off -- but they hadn’t yet figured out where exactly to take it. I spied a reptilian head just out of cover.
Another down. Now they’d figured me out. They shifted their positions, taking care to block my line of sight. Their guns fired, a dull, repetitive thumping from my vantage point. Both sides were pinned down now.
The hunters had brought tactics of their own; I watched as two split off to take a flanking route down an alley. “Rich, watch the alley on your three. Two incoming.”
Rich adjusted his position to turn the attempted flank into an ambush. The flanking arxur crept along the alley, unaware that their presence was known. The reptiles could smell him, but he could hear them. They were no match, and fell under the ambush. The attack foiled, Rich returned to his previous cover, reloading as he went. I knew they had only a few magazines each. They were running low. And the bulk of the arxur forces remained, pressuring their positions through superior numbers and ammo count.
Except for… “Four just broke off for another flank!” I called out. “They’re wide… very wide!” Too wide. My blood chilled as I pieced it together. “They’re making for the eastern street, heading towards the gojid!”
I could only cover one attack. Priya knew it instantly. “Get on them!”
“I can’t! I won’t be able to cover you!”
“I don’t care!” She shrieked over the mic. “They’re going for the gojid, get on them!”
I didn’t respond. I couldn’t abandon--
I couldn’t do it. Not to her. Not after… everything.
“TEACH, Y--” Her words were cut off as a pair of arxur rushed them. The first of the pair fell to my shot, but the other was too fast for me to line up a second shot. It rounded the corner, exchanging fire with Priya. It went down, leaving her the victor, still standing. She clutched the top of her shoulder, near her neck, and sank back against the wall. Not lethal, but… it very nearly was. If I hadn’t shot the first… My breathing grew ragged, panicky. I said nothing.
I couldn’t… I couldn’t…
“Teach. Please. Please don’t do this to me…”
“Fuck,” I whispered to myself. I still couldn’t do it. There wasn’t a force in the world that could shift my aim elsewhere. The scope blurred as tears tugged at the edges of my vision. The weight of what I was leaving the gojid to. It was an impossible choice. The panic engulfed me completely, now. I despaired of it ever letting go again.
Memory transcription subject: Kazeth, Arxur defector
Date [standardized human time]: September 29, 2136 (two days after the invasion of the Gojid Cradle)
I could sense the mounting distress incapacitating the human. I had suspected he was no true soldier, but still… I found myself… uncomfortable, in a way that I didn’t truly understand.
“Send me,” I said, once again surprising myself. Some bizarre urgency compelled me.
Teach startled, snapping his head towards me. I think he had forgotten my presence. He quickly shifted back to the scope. I thought him still too distressed to respond.
“Send me. I will handle them.”
“You-- your leg is broken.”
“Arxur heal faster than humans,” I lied.
He paused, gulping a few short breaths. “Okay.” His panic seemed to abate, his breathing slowing, his focus seeming more purposeful. “Okay,” he said again, voice more normal.
I nodded, and turned to head down the stairs.
I turned back. He let loose a few rapid shots, buying himself enough time to produce his sidearm. He quickly manipulated its mechanisms with practiced swiftness before holding it aloft. I hobbled over to take it.
“It’s all set. Just point, and pull the trigger. Eighteen shots. Small caliber, so, only effective at short ranges, and won’t do much to armor. But it’s better than nothing.”
I took the gun, holding it for a moment almost reverently. I thought back to Rich’s refusal to let me take a weapon for myself, days ago. It seemed so long ago, now.
“And… and take the radio too.” He gestured towards Rich’s pack without taking his eyes off his scope. I remembered Rich collecting a spare radio from his fallen comrades, after he had stopped me from taking one of their weapons. I dug through the pack for the radio, and clipped it onto my harness.
I hurtled down the stairs with haste, filled with some kind of growing momentum that I did not understand. I did not even know why I offered to go. I was confident I could handle them, but, it was still four against one, and I was still injured -- a fact that made itself all the more apparent with each step out of the building. I limped painfully on two-and-a-half limbs, the gun clutched awkwardly in my grip. Why did I want to do this? Was it a sense of debt? Loyalty? Attachment? Was it to the humans? The gojid?
There was little time to ponder. My path was set. I had the hunters’ scent, as well as the gojids’. It was their deaths or mine.
There would be little utility in attempting an ambush through hiding. They would smell me as much as I would smell them. No, my ambush must be one of guile. I limped up the center of the street, keeping Teach’s sidearm tucked behind the shadow of my forelimb. It would be awkward to use. Arxur preferred heavy weapons that could be held against the chest or lower torso, with recoil that directed downwards -- it was more favorable for our physiology to counter recoil by pulling upwards. The tiny size presented an issue as well. The grip was simply too small, and the trigger guard barely admitted my claw. But… for all its awkwardness, it had one major benefit: it was concealable. And Arxur rarely used sidearms. I would carry the advantage of surprise.
The hunters rushed into my street, having clearly sensed me already. They stalked towards me, weapons drawn, nares opening and closing as they calculated their surroundings. Their target was just behind me, around the corner. A room full of helpless gojid, some I could tell already bleeding. It would be a tantalizing prize to the hunters.
The four of them drew to a stop wordlessly. A leader presented himself from among them, stepping forward and addressing me. “You stink of human.”
“I was their prisoner. Your distraction has allowed me to free myself.”
He stepped further forward, turning his head to face me directly. A bold challenge. “You let them capture you? Let them tend your wounds? And now you stand between me and my prize?” His eyes widened in barely contained bloodlust.
A plan began to coalesce in my head. “Your prize, junior hunter?”
He hunched over forwards onto four limbs, his scales rising. His gun scraped along the ground, nearly forgotten in his crazed aggression. Exactly what I wanted. I flexed my scales to match. He circled me, slavering jaws splitting open with a hiss. I matched his rotation, careful to keep the gun still hidden.
The others let their weapons lower as well, their focus torn between me and their gojid prey.
The leader was gaunt and thin and wiry. Were I not wounded, I would scarcely have considered him a threat. I finalized my grip on my weapon in anticipation. I waited for him to lunge, but he didn’t. The others seemed to drift towards the gojid, as we circled around each other. I was rapidly losing control of the situation. My opponent seemed more than content to draw this out. His tail twitched, eyes flicking back and forth to my wounded leg, almost hungrily -- he was savoring this.
“Back down, runt,” I hissed, attempting to goad him.
The deranged smile widened. “You do look well fed,” he countered easily, reveling in his sudden dominance. “Humans treat you well? Or the other way around?”
I growled hatefully.
That was all the confirmation he needed. He crowed exultingly, addressing his comrades. “Surilz, Arshag, get to work. Leave this traitor to us.”
The two turned and loped away towards the gojid. The time to act was now.
I lunged towards my opponent. His focus snapped back to me, and he launched into his own lunge to meet me. We clashed, my arm keeping his gnashing teeth at bay, my foot stomping his gun down to the ground before he could lift it. He was surprisingly stronger than he looked, the weight of his lunge pushing me back onto my wounded leg. Searing pain lanced up the broken limb. I staggered backwards, and my arm buckled. His jaw seized the opportunity and closed the gap, clamping down on my shoulder. I roared in rage and pain.
But this would work too. I brought the gun up to his lower torso, pushing it into his scales just below the armor. I pulled the trigger as rapidly as I could, until he went limp. I pushed him off of me, his face etched with a last look of surprise as he crumpled into the dirt.
His companion hissed in surprise, and raised his own weapon -- but too slowly; I was already firing, again and again, until the gun clicked uselessly. I did not possess nearly the accuracy that the humans did, but it didn’t matter. Enough had found their mark, and he had crumpled as well.
I turned to pursue the other two, tossing the now-useless gun to the ground so I could move faster. They’d disappeared behind the corner. My shoulder burned in agony, dripping red, and my leg was now lamed even worse than it was before. But rage and fury bore me forwards, hobbling desperately through the pain.
I had to stop them. I did not understand why… but onwards was I driven.
I would be their hunter. I would be their death. I was needed.
I rounded the corner to see the two arxur just entering the building. A cry went up from the gojid inside. Some force compelled me even faster, bidding me ignore the pain.
I reached the now-open doorway. One was deep inside, stalking forward and menacing the gojid, savoring the hunt’s end. The other, nearer to me, turned. He tried to raise his weapon, but I was already upon him. We grappled, each vying for control of his weapon. But some strength I didn’t know surged through me. The other hunter, hearing our commotion, turned and aimed. She delayed, with no clear shot on me -- and that was enough time.
I roared, and with all my strength, turned my opponent's own weapon on his companion, and forced the trigger down. The stream of bullets slashed through the arxur, and into the floor as control of the weapon was eventually wrested back. The burning fury grew, as the thought that there could be collateral damage dawned.
I ripped the weapon from his grasp. It clattered across the floor.
“Traitor…” the hunter gasped out, flailing desperately against my iron grip.
A bloody haze filled my vision. My grip tightened.
One of his claws found some purchase against my scales. He ripped towards himself, tearing scales from their sockets and rending flesh. It did not hurt. I was beyond that, now.
I slammed him into a nearby wall. He grunted, but only dug his claws in deeper.
I slammed him into the wall again.
And again.
And again.
Until finally his claw was shaken loose. Dazed, he feebly grasped at my arms. I drew up to my full height, the pain in my leg be damned, and hurled him bodily out into the street.
He collapsed into the dust. I gave him no respite, and pursued him. I fell atop him, raining an onslaught of vicious slashes upon him. The fury did not abate. The haze did not lift. Not until he was dead.
I stood up, hunched and staggering, taking great ragged breaths. I turned around. Inside the building, the herd of gojid huddled together, staring out at me, the terror written across all their faces. They flinched as I turned. I stumbled to the door, my wounds now making themselves excruciatingly known. The gojid shrank back and flinched with every lumbering step I took towards them.
I reached the doorway, and stopped, staring out over them. The last dying gasp of my rage birthed one final thought: I could slaughter them all now -- blame the hunters and rid us all of this liability, this distraction.
But, as quick as the thought came, so too did the other side of me. No, that was not what I wanted. No, I think… I think that I had wanted the opposite. To protect them. To have a use, to be wanted, to fight for a purpose of pride instead of one of guilt. Was that what had driven me forward, against these hunters? Something must have.
The rest of the fury burned out, replaced with ash. I felt my grasp of myself slipping away, perhaps some culmination of my time spent among the humans. Something was different. I was different.
…though, of course, the gojid shared none of this revelation with me. They stared helplessly in total fear, their spines raised and bloodied against one another. This, I found, hurt more than the pains of the flesh that wracked my body.
I sighed, and pulled shut the door. There was little else I could do for them.
I grabbed the radio from my harness. “This is Kazeth. The gojid are safe, but… they saw me.”
submitted by uktabi to NatureofPredators [link] [comments]

2023.05.28 22:46 Thibalut Comment augmenter mon volume en EF

Après un passage compliqué dans ma vie et une bonne prise de poids (33ans 1m84 95kg) en quelques mois (je faisais 85kg avant donc j’étais deja bien lourd). J’ai enfin la possibilité de me reprendre en main. J’ai deja fait un semi marathon en 1:57 et « fini » un marathon en un peu plus de 5h l’année dernière. A cette époque je courrais 4 fois par semaine.
Mon objectif à l’heure actuelle et de perdre 20kg ( je suis deja à 2) avec en moyenne 1kg par semaine pour ensuite reprendre plus intensément la course à pied. On mettra l’intensité plus tard.
Je fais donc 3 séance de force pour le Renfo, 3 sorties d’une heure uniquement en EF (6:50 mn/km en moyenne < 140bpm) et 6 fois par semaine 10k pas.
Du coup là j’arrive à peu près à 25-26km la semaine. J’aimerais augmenter le volume progressivement en course à pied et principalement en EF en rajoutant 10mn par jour, mais j’imagine que dans un mois faire 3 sorties d’une heure trente n’a pas grand sens non ?
Comment je peux augmenter mon volume sans que ce soit trop traumatisant ? Et est ce que je fais bien de faire que de l’EF ?
Merci !
submitted by Thibalut to runningfr [link] [comments]

2023.05.28 22:42 IceQueenWeiss Selling epic games account + coupon 25% expire june 15

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4/17/2020 Wheels of Aurelia
4/17/2020 Just Cause 4
4/15/2020 Paladins
4/15/2020 Sherlock Holmes Crimes and Punishments
4/15/2020 Close to the Sun
4/4/2020 Gone Home
4/4/2020 Drawful 2
4/4/2020 Hob
3/26/2020 Tormentor X Punisher
3/26/2020 Figment
3/26/2020 World War Z
3/20/2020 Watch Dogs Standard Edition
3/20/2020 The Stanley Parable
3/2/2020 InnerSpace
2/21/2020 Magic: The Gathering Arena
2/21/2020 Assassins Creed Syndicate Standard Edition
2/21/2020 Faeria
2/14/2020 Aztez
2/14/2020 HD Voice Pack - English
2/14/2020 HD Voice Pack - German
2/14/2020 HD Voice Pack - French
2/14/2020 HD Sound Pack
2/14/2020 HD Texture Pack
2/14/2020 Kingdom Come: Deliverance
2/6/2020 Ticket to Ride
2/6/2020 Carcassonne
1/30/2020 Farming Simulator 19
1/23/2020 The Bridge
1/16/2020 Horace
1/10/2020 Sundered Eldritch Edition
1/1/2020 Darksiders Warmastered Edition
1/1/2020 Steep
1/1/2020 Darksiders II Deathinitive Edition
1/1/2020 Yooka-Laylee and the Impossible Lair
12/30/2019 Hello Neighbor
12/29/2019 The Talos Principle
12/26/2019 Faster Than Light
12/23/2019 Ape Out
12/13/2019 The Wolf Among Us
12/13/2019 The Escapists
12/5/2019 Jotun Valhalla Edition
11/29/2019 Rayman Legends
11/21/2019 Bad North Jotunn Edition
11/15/2019 The Messenger
11/7/2019 Nuclear Throne
11/7/2019 RUINER
10/31/2019 SOMA
10/24/2019 Layers of Fear
10/24/2019 Q.U.B.E. 2
10/17/2019 >observer_
10/17/2019 Alan Wake's American Nightmare
10/10/2019 Surviving Mars - Mysteries Resupply Pack
10/10/2019 Surviving Mars - Space Race
10/10/2019 Surviving Mars
10/4/2019 Minit
9/26/2019 Metro: 2033 Redux
9/26/2019 Everything
9/19/2019 Lego Batman Trilogy
9/19/2019 Batman Arkham - Trilogy
9/18/2019 Conarium
8/29/2019 Inside
8/29/2019 Celeste
8/23/2019 Fez
8/21/2019 The Cycle Early Access
8/15/2019 Mutant Year Zero
8/15/2019 Hyper Light Drifter
8/8/2019 GNOG
8/3/2019 Alan Wake
8/3/2019 For Honor Standard Edition
7/25/2019 This War of Mine
7/25/2019 Moonlighter
7/18/2019 Limbo
7/11/2019 Torchlight
7/4/2019 Overcooked
7/3/2019 Dauntless
7/3/2019 Last Day of June
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