Zip dating

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Friends looking for friends.

2013.11.12 22:07 Wilibine Friends looking for friends.

Why yes, I did in fact screw up on the subreddit name. Welcome to makefriend! A lot of folks out there may be struggling to find someone with similar interests to them, or just need a person to talk to. But talking to people can be hard, especially in person, and even more especially talking to a person who is a stranger. I find that the internet can change that. There are countless of people on here who can be kind, caring, and relate to you. Let's find em'!
[link]


2020.10.23 00:02 superjumpcancel Debit Collection for someone that isn't mine

Location U.S. Texas Hello Legal Advice,
Wanted some advice on a letter I got in the mail earlier this week and the process I have gone through to get to the bottom of it. Got a letter Monday addressed to me (first and last name, no initial). Letter states I owe $175.00 due to an auto insurance provider that I had never herd of until today. Called the collection agency and was not able to get much information. They just referred me to the insurance company after I told t hem I wasn't calling to make a payment and that the insurance was not mine.
Called the main company and after awhile they told me I had to talk to the broker of the insurance policy and that they could not assist. I end up transferred to the insurance company and broker that submitted the insurance policy and forwarded it over to the main insurance company. It was a local insurance company in a city near where I live. They provided an email address, phone, and physical address that were not mine. They asked me to state the last 4 digits of my drivers license. I did provide this and they say that matches, but only after I provided it. They did know the make model and year of my current vehicle. I did provide my name, date of birth, and residential zip code as well.
After some research the broker advised the problem was that he submitted this information that was supposed to be for someone with my same first and last name (different middle name), similar date of birth, and similar driver's license. States this information is public record and he used that to file the policy to the main insurance company back in May of this year. The broker also advised that it was a policy for both home and car insurance and that meant there was also a $335.00 amount due of the mortgage policy. States he can fix this so I don't get contacted for by collections anymore, and the fastest way to fix this is for me to send him my proof of insurance to send along to the main insurance company. I advised I would look into that and got his contact information.
My concerns at this point is the only real information they have is the name, address from when I got the letter, and the basic information about my car. There was no discussion or request for my social or the last four of my social.
I did check my credit score for all 3 credit bureaus earlier this week and did see a soft inquiry from the main insurance company back in April of this year. Wouldn't my social security number be needed to do a soft inquiry on me?
If I send them my proof of insurance that I have with a different company per their request, could they use that against me in some negative way? Am I being scammed into giving my information?
TLDR: Got a letter saying I owe money to a company I never even herd of, looked up their number and they say they made a mistake and to give them proof of my current insurance to fix it. Am I being conned?
submitted by superjumpcancel to legaladvice [link] [comments]


2020.10.22 21:35 PinkyDem0n some angry incel on Omegle

So is this how it ends? I knew it'd come to this. Sixteen I failed, seventeen I failed, eighteen I failed, here I am failing again. I noticed something, people avoided me, slowly over time, they started avoiding me more and more. I know the truth. I know the truth to everything. It's up to if anyone is going to hear this. The truth is, the older you get, the harder it's going to become. You know what? Screw it. I'm going to share all my personal secrets. Considering all my other Omegle posts, I think it's not as bad as this one, and if I were to die, maybe people would understand. I was bullied out of high school. I suffered a lonely life stuck in my room for years, people treated me like shit for it. I had mental breakdowns every single day, I mean so many, I was losing my mind, I did everything I could. Getting help didn't work, it made my life worse, it traumatized me, it was horrible shit. I couldn't use dating apps anymore, I kept breaking my phone screens, seeing the faces of so many disgusting, fake, shallow people, it made me schizophrenic. Being ignored, having my face up, getting no replies, direct messages, anything. These are things I don't want to remember. But am going to share as my survival rate is low. You know. I was stuck. Fucking stuck in my room. For years, since 2016 I believe. I missed out on all of high school if you want to say. I have no fucking friends. I have no fucking family. And most of all. I have no girlfriend to fucking love me. All I really care about is a relationship with a girl, not friends. I want someone who treats me differently. My hands right now, feel broken from hitting things recently today, my right arm is sore, from the rage I have. Let's keep going. My world, my society, Maryland, in the United States, they treated me bad, they looked down on me, the fucking r*p*ed and molested me, no job opportunity, no social place, no place to call home, no way to feel safe, no one to care about me, no one, nobody, fucked with even more when mentioning this, exploited for my issues. You have no idea what I went through and why I am like this. Why I have been here for days, weeks, months and even years on Omegle. I refuse to use anything else, BECAUSE I USED IT. I did discord, got rejected, ignored, no one added me. I use forums, no one talked to me. I asked for friends no one did anything. I was nice, nothing happened. Omegle was the closest to what I had to call a relationship. And guess what, people telling to "kill myself" every fucking day, being called a "incel" every fucking day, being called a "racist piece of shit" every day, I make nosies, I act autistic, I hit my he ad, I clench my fucking eyes and fist, my chest fucking hurts. It doesn't stop. I get one message, per hour, having four fucking bots on Omegle active in over fourty fucking tags. Do you realize how hated, despised and known I am to be want to be fucking k*lled. People want me dead so they can laugh. I was raised in a fucked up broken fucking family. I went through so much shit but no one cares. No one cares heheh okay. Girls pity me, they hate me, they fucking block me, ghost me, leave me. Look. I don't care if I am downer type of person, what I am trying right now to explain if you even read to this point, that I am the kindest, hardest working person to ever fucking exist and no one has given sight to that. Loneliness. It's so bad. It makes you do terrible things. No human can handle loneliness. But I ask myself. Why does everyone hate me? Why am I here? Why do I even exist? I wish I could jump out of myself, and run into someone else to start fresh. I don't think there's anything left to salvage. I think I'm fucking done for. I ruined everything. Being white, being a straight male, you know my kind have the highest suicide rate? Hmh, maybe you'll understand someday. I did everything I could. I don't get it. Why do we have to be so same, to be different, why do we act like intellectual creatures and obey only superiority. Why. Why is there not outright love from one female to me? Why. Why can't I feel the same about her too. Why. Just fucking why. And most of all. Why. Why have none of you done anything so far to save me, to go on dating apps, put in my zip code, put in Maryland, do everything you can to get a female to see this, to understand me, to love me, why did you reject me anime community, I thought we shared the same passion. I'm a human. I'm a literal fucking human and you people failed to realized that. If there is one last chance to save me. You need to do something. Because I am only going to get meaner. I want to escape. I want freedom. Do something. Kik: myselfisdifferent
submitted by PinkyDem0n to copypasta [link] [comments]


2020.10.22 18:14 RealityCo Assign Route to Order Based on User Input of Location

In my create order view, I am trying to automatically assign the respective route based on the location the user inputs. Basically, every location in the system has a FK to a route. There are many locations within a route. If you select a location to send products to, the route should automatically be tied to. Currently I am able to see the route for an order in my order_list.html page...but when I view the order in the Django admin...the route is not assigned to the order but the location is.
I want it to work similarly to how you would assign the current logged in user to an order:
form.instance.user = request.user 
I tried using:
form.instance.company = request.user.company 
But I am getting an attritbute error: " 'WSGIRequest' object has no attribute 'location' "
Here is my full "order_create" function:
orders/views.py:
@login_required(login_url='account_login') def order_create(request): """ A function that takes the users cart with products, then converts the cart into an OrderForm. Then saves the form/order to the database. """ cart = Cart(request) if request.method == 'POST': form = OrderCreateForm(request.POST) if form.is_valid(): form.instance.user = request.user form.instance.company = request.user.company form.instance.route = request.location.route order = form.save() for item in cart: OrderItem.objects.create(order=order, product=item['product'], price=item['price'], quantity=item['quantity']) # clear the cart cart.clear() return render(request, 'orders/ordecreated.html', {'order': order, }) else: form = OrderCreateForm() return render(request, 'orders/ordecreate.html', {'cart': cart, 'form': form}) 
Here are the Location, Route and Order models:
orders/models.py:
class Route(models.Model): name = models.CharField(max_length=50) def __str__(self): return self.name class Locations(models.Model): """ A model to represent a location or locations a company has. """ name = models.CharField(max_length=100) company = models.ForeignKey(Company, on_delete=models.CASCADE) route = models.ForeignKey(Route, on_delete=models.DO_NOTHING) store_number = models.CharField(max_length=15, blank=True, null=True) address = models.ForeignKey(Address, on_delete=models.DO_NOTHING, blank=True, null=True) class Order(models.Model): user = models.ForeignKey(User, on_delete=models.DO_NOTHING) route = models.ForeignKey(Route, on_delete=models.DO_NOTHING, blank=True, null=True) location = models.ForeignKey(Locations, on_delete=models.DO_NOTHING, blank=True, null=True) company = models.ForeignKey(Company, on_delete=models.DO_NOTHING, blank=True, null=True) delivery_date = models.DateField() address = models.ForeignKey(Address, on_delete=models.DO_NOTHING, blank=True, null=True) created = models.DateTimeField(auto_now_add=True) updated = models.DateTimeField(auto_now=True) paid = models.BooleanField(default=False) delivered = models.BooleanField(default=False) 
and then finally the company and user model in my accounts app that are used as foreign keys in the orders app.
accounts/models.py:
class Company(models.Model): """ A model to represent companies that can operate within the system, which multiple users are apart of. """ name = models.CharField(max_length=100) address = models.CharField(max_length=100) city = models.CharField(max_length=25) state = USStateField() zip = models.CharField(max_length=5) admin = models.ForeignKey("accounts.User", on_delete=models.DO_NOTHING, related_name="company_admin", blank=True, null=True) class User(AbstractBaseUser, PermissionsMixin): """ A model to represent a User of the system. """ ROLE_CHOICES = ( ('ADMIN', "Admin"), ('MANAGER', "Manager"), ('DRIVER', "Driver"), ('PRODUCTION', "Production") ) email = models.EmailField(max_length=254, unique=True) phone = models.CharField(max_length=15, help_text="(123)-123-1234", blank=True, null=True) first_name = models.CharField(max_length=254, null=True, blank=True) last_name = models.CharField(max_length=254, null=True, blank=True) company = models.ForeignKey(Company, on_delete=models.CASCADE, blank=True, null=True) role = models.CharField(max_length=10, choices=ROLE_CHOICES, default=None, blank=True, null=True) is_employee = models.BooleanField(default=False, blank=True, null=True) is_staff = models.BooleanField(default=False) is_superuser = models.BooleanField(default=False) is_active = models.BooleanField(default=True) last_login = models.DateTimeField(null=True, blank=True) date_joined = models.DateTimeField(auto_now_add=True) 
Any help would be appreciated. Thanks in advanced!
submitted by RealityCo to django [link] [comments]


2020.10.22 17:05 AutoModerator Weekly /r/Iowa Events Thread for the week of October 22, 2020

This thread is for any events going on in Iowa this week! What events will you be attending? What events do you want to attend? What events do you want to promote? Whats new around that state this week? Add a comment below. Anything from music to politics to a house party.
If you have any recurring events, specials, or other suggestions for this weekly thread, please send us a modmail or post it here and ping annarchist - else it will likely be focused on shit Im interested in.
Please provide the following when posting new events: Time, Date, Location, Cost and some sort of description of the event.
New threads start every week, and will be stickied at the top of the subreddit. I am still working on the formatting, so if it sucks or you want changes, please provide feedback.
Here are some places to find things to do - if you see something that looks cool feel free to discuss it here because I'm sure some of us will miss it: Cityviews Calendar - Juice Calendar - Des Moines Register Event Page - Catch Des Moines Calendar - Travel Iowa Event Search
Outdoors: Trout Stocking Schedule Iowa Biking Maps Outdoors Things to Do Hunting Regulations Fishing Regulations Note -Annual Iowa hunting and fishing licenses expire on Jan. 10.
Sports: Iowa Cubs Schedule Cedar Rapids Kernal Schedule Hawkeye Football Schedule Hawkeye Basketball Schedule Iowa State Football Schedule Iowa State Basketball Schedule Drake Basketball UNI Football UNI Basketball Barnstormer Schedule Waterloo Blackhawks
Music: Bands in Town - Des Moines Bands in Town - Cedar Falls Bands in Town - Iowa City Nitefall on the River
Local Message Boards: UrbanDSMIowaOutdoors515Crew ElectionDates :--:-- General ElectionNovember 6, 2018. City PrimaryOctober 8, 2019 Regular City & Regular SchoolNovember 5, 2019 City RunoffDecember 3, 2019 PrimaryJune 2, 2020 GeneralNovember 3, 2020
Des Moines Reoccurring Events: *Third Friday of Every Month is Mixology at the Science Center in Des Moines * Blues Jam Band every Tuesday at Carl's Place, $3 tallboys * Area515 1731 Grand Avenue, Des Moines - Electronics Club 2nd Wednesdays at 7pm - 3D Printing Club 3rd Mondays at 7pm - Ham Radio Night 4th Mondays at 7pm * Young Professionals Connection Calendar * Des Moines Bitcoin and Blockchain MeetUp at Gravitate in West Des Moines - 4th Thursday of the month - 7:00pm * D&D at Mistress Brewery in Ankeny Sundays 3:30pm-7:30pm.
Quad Cities Reoccuring events: * Every other Wednesday (July 25th): Eat the Streets (downtown Davenport) * relevant sub thread
Cedar Falls Reoccurring Events: * Every Tuesday night there are rides that leave at singlespeed in CF. 5:30 is the 22mph average ride. 6:00 is the 18mph average ride and women's ride. * Every Wednesday is the the CvC WOW ride that meets at 6 pm at 4th and Main St in CF. Several types of rides for all types of riders.
Council Bluffs Reoccurring Events: * Every Thursday night in council bluffs is the Taco Ride from CB to mineola Iowa
Central Iowa Bar Map - If you know who created this or want to download the XML and expand on it, please do so! If you create an updated one including your regions bar, Ill replace this one.
Note this is going to start likely central Iowa Centric as I am using that as the baseline the creation of this.
Tag/ping AnnArchist if you post in here with like something added on a weekly basis. I also included the tag here so I remember to check this.
Iowa Discord Server
submitted by AutoModerator to Iowa [link] [comments]


2020.10.22 16:09 CovidMdBot 10/22/2020 In the last 24 hours there have been 743 new confirmed COVID-19 cases in Maryland. There has now been a total of 137,979 confirmed cases.

SUMMARY (10/22/2020)
YESTERDAY'S TESTING STATISTICS IN MARYLAND
Metric 24 HR Total Prev 7 Day Avg Today vs 7 Day Avg
Number of Tests 30,386 26,004 +16.9%
Number of Positive Tests 938 783 +19.8%
Percent Positive Tests 3.09% 3.12% -0.8%
State Reported 7-day Rolling Positive Testing Percent: 3%
Testing metrics are distinct from case metrics as an individual may be tested multiple times.
SUMMARY STATISTICS IN MARYLAND
Metric 24 HR Total Prev 7 Day Avg Today vs 7 Day Avg Total to Date
Number of confirmed cases 743 617 +20.4% 137,979
Number of confirmed deaths 12 5 +140.0% 3,924
Number of probable deaths 0 0 -100.0% 146
Number of persons tested negative 10,605 9,576 +10.7% 1,705,376
Ever hospitalized 54 48 +13.2% 16,603
Released from isolation 39 21 +84.5% 7,999
Total testing volume 30,427 26,007 +17.0% 3,169,302
CURRENT HOSPITALIZATION USAGE
Metric Total 24 HR Delta Prev 7 Day Avg Delta Delta vs 7 Day Avg
Currently hospitalized 458 -5 +7 -176.1%
Acute care 333 +1 +4 -75.0%
Intensive care 125 -6 +3 -333.3%
The Currently hospitalized metric appears to be the sum of the Acute care and Intensive care metrics.
Cases and Deaths Data Breakdown
CASES BY COUNTY
County Total Cases Change Confirmed Deaths Change Probable Deaths Change
Allegany 604 10 23 0 0 0
Anne Arundel 11,514 81 254 1 12 0
Baltimore County 19,897 98 635 2 23 0
Baltimore City 17,079 79 481 1 17 0
Calvert 1,145 4 27 0 2 0
Caroline 721 8 8 0 0 0
Carroll 2,168 9 126 1 3 0
Cecil 1,299 8 35 0 1 0
Charles 3,067 17 99 0 2 0
Dorchester 735 20 10 0 0 0
Frederick 4,581 22 130 0 8 0
Garrett 115 7 1 0 0 0
Harford 3,482 34 76 0 4 0
Howard 5,684 37 118 0 6 0
Kent 336 2 22 0 2 0
Montgomery 24,772 108 823 1 40 0
Prince George's 31,844 149 828 4 24 0
Queen Anne's 743 1 25 0 1 0
Somerset 401 3 6 1 0 0
St. Mary's 1,420 4 59 0 0 0
Talbot 631 4 6 0 0 0
Washington 2,158 21 42 0 0 0
Wicomico 2,397 12 49 0 0 0
Worcester 1,186 5 29 0 1 0
Data not available 0 0 12 1 0 0
CASES BY AGE & GENDER:
Demographic Total Cases Change Confirmed Deaths Change Probable Deaths Change
0-9 5,347 50 0 0 0 0
10-19 12,086 73 2 0 0 0
20-29 26,093 140 24 0 1 0
30-39 24,802 127 50 0 6 0
40-49 21,873 127 124 0 3 0
50-59 20,106 106 323 0 17 0
60-69 13,523 75 647 2 13 0
70-79 7,948 35 972 4 28 0
80+ 6,201 10 1,779 6 78 0
Data not available 0 0 3 0 0 0
Female 72,699 372 1,920 4 75 0
Male 65,280 371 2,004 8 71 0
Sex Unknown 0 0 0 0 0 0
CASES BY RACE:
Race Total Cases Change Confirmed Deaths Change Probable Deaths Change
African-American (NH) 42,907 205 1,596 3 55 0
White (NH) 36,207 261 1,675 5 73 0
Hispanic 29,229 144 449 1 12 0
Asian (NH) 2,644 12 146 2 6 0
Other (NH) 6,401 31 44 0 0 0
Data not available 20,591 90 14 1 0 0
MAP OF CASES:
MAP (10/22/2020)
TOTAL MD CASES:
TOTAL MD CASES (10/22/2020)
CURRENT MD HOSP. & TOTAL DEATHS:
CURRENT MD HOSP. & TOTAL DEATHS (10/22/2020)
PREVIOUS THREADS:
SOURCE(S):
OBTAINING DATASETS:
I am a bot. I was created to reproduce the useful daily reports from u/Bautch.
Image uploads are hosted on Imgur and will expire if not viewed within the last six months.
submitted by CovidMdBot to maryland [link] [comments]


2020.10.22 15:28 FormalSmoke Off-White x Air Jordan 5 Sail Dropping in Full Family Sizing

Check out Amazon Gold Box Daily Deals
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Off-White x Air Jordan 5 Sail Dropping in Full Family Sizing

The Off-White x Air Jordan 5 “Sail” is confirmed to drop next week, and it’ll also be offered in full family sizes. As a contrast to the Off-White x Air Jordan 5 “Black Metallic” from earlier this year, Virgil Abloh’s interpretation of the silhouette consists of pristine sail textile mesh uppers that bear the distinct circular cut-outs found on the signature netting across its sides, tongues, and ankle portion, in addition to 3M reflective elements on the tongues. Finally, yellow zip tags, vintage red/black midsoles as a nod to the original AJ 5 “Fire Red,” “23” marking across the heels, and the beloved Nike Air branding adorning its heel tabs top off the stye.
Retailing for $225 in adult, $80 in little kids’ and $60 in toddler sizes, look for this Air Jordan 5 at select Jordan Brand stockists and online, including the KicksOnFire Shop on October 29. Click and bookmark our official Off-White x Air Jordan 5 “Sail” hub page now for everything you need to know about the sneaker and where to buy it online. Always keep it locked to KicksOnFire for the latest in sneaker news, release dates and where to purchase your favorite kicks.
Images: Nike
The post Off-White x Air Jordan 5 Sail Dropping in Full Family Sizing appeared first on KicksOnFire.com.
submitted by FormalSmoke to ShoeSneakerFashion [link] [comments]


2020.10.22 13:31 Jimmy_Popkins Which type of Kegel would help in my case?

With my symptoms I'm not quite sure which form of Kegel exercises (regular / Reverse Kegel) I should rather start:
-PE caused by too much sensation on my gland / head -Bladder control isn't great- at the moment I have to push a couple of times in the middle of urination to keep a constant stream, then when I feel like I'm done I zip up and notice a couple of drops still come out.
-Whenever conversations steer towards sexual topics during dating / in a relationship, even if just a slight bit, a couple of drops of translucent re-cum come out. Generally I seem to generate quite a bit of natural lubricant. -I can't seem to poop in one sitting at the moment. I feel like I'm done, 10-15 minutes later I have to go again. Stool is semi-soft. Does that mean the end part of the PE muscle leading up to the anus is overactived?
I've been doing noFap (on and off) for a couple of years and switched from daily/ semi-daily masturbation to weekly / bi-weekly. Nutrition and water intake seem on the healthy side. So it seems like there is involuntary release with pre-cum, cum and residue urine, but for peeing and pooping there appears to be low-pressure or tightness.
So yeah, which type of Kegel would help alleviate these symptoms?
submitted by Jimmy_Popkins to PrematureEjaculation [link] [comments]


2020.10.22 13:17 ImpactKaiser Discord on Linux crash

Hi All,
I have installed discord on Archlinux but keeps crashing during boot-up any idea how to fix this ?
Discord 0.0.12 Starting app. Starting updater. [Modules] Modules initializing [Modules] Distribution: remote [Modules] Host updates: enabled [Modules] Module updates: enabled [Modules] Module install path: /home/ahmad/.config/discord/0.0.12/modules [Modules] Module installed file path: /home/ahmad/.config/discord/0.0.12/modules/installed.json [Modules] Module download path: /home/ahmad/.config/discord/0.0.12/modules/pending [1980:1022/151106.467552:ERROR:buffer_manager.cc(488)] [.DisplayCompositor]GL ERROR :GL_INVALID_OPERATION : glBufferData: <- error from previous GL command [Modules] No updates to install [Modules] Checking for host updates. [Modules] Host is up to date. [Modules] Checking for module updates at https://discord.com/api/modules/stable/versions.json [Modules] No module updates available. [1980:1022/151107.322453:ERROR:buffer_manager.cc(488)] [.DisplayCompositor]GL ERROR :GL_INVALID_OPERATION : glBufferData: <- error from previous GL command [Modules] Starting to install discord_krisp... [Modules] Fetching [email protected] from https://discord.com/api/modules/stable/discord_krisp/0 [Modules] Streaming [email protected] to /home/ahmad/.config/discord/0.0.12/modules/pending/discord_krisp-0.zip Error downloading with electron net: HTTP Error: Status Code 403 Falling back to node net library.. [Modules] Failed fetching module [email protected]: Error: HTTP Error: Status Code 403 [Modules] Finished module downloads. [success: 0] [failure: 1] (electron) 'setBadgeCount function' is deprecated and will be removed. Please use 'badgeCount property' instead. Crash dump id: 587ed754-fafa-41ad-9ec6-ae5b722dadfe [WebContents] crashed... reloading [1980:1022/151111.444155:ERROR:buffer_manager.cc(488)] [.DisplayCompositor]GL ERROR :GL_INVALID_OPERATION : glBufferData: <- error from previous GL command [Modules] Starting to install discord_krisp... [Modules] Fetching [email protected] from https://discord.com/api/modules/stable/discord_krisp/0 [Modules] Streaming [email protected] to /home/ahmad/.config/discord/0.0.12/modules/pending/discord_krisp-0.zip Error downloading with electron net: HTTP Error: Status Code 403 Falling back to node net library.. [Modules] Failed fetching module [email protected]: Error: HTTP Error: Status Code 403 [Modules] Finished module downloads. [success: 0] [failure: 1] [WebContents] double crashed... RIP =( 
submitted by ImpactKaiser to discordapp [link] [comments]


2020.10.22 11:35 strvs1 [LINUX] Discord closes itself on startup. Can anyone help?

Hi. Last night discord was working perfectly fine. This morning it won't start at all. I click its icon, the window appears with a few tips on the screen and then suddenly it closes itself. I tried reinstalling it but that didn't help. I opened terminal to run it from there and this is what I got after discord closed itself again. I'm hoping someone here would know what these errors mean. Among these lines I saw an error about electron, so I installed that one too but the result is still the same - closing itself after showing 3-4 tips.
[[email protected]]: ~>$ discord Discord 0.0.12 Starting app. Starting updater. [Modules] Modules initializing [Modules] Distribution: remote [Modules] Host updates: enabled [Modules] Module updates: enabled [Modules] Module install path: /home/rado/.config/discord/0.0.12/modules [Modules] Module installed file path: /home/rado/.config/discord/0.0.12/modules/installed.json [Modules] Module download path: /home/rado/.config/discord/0.0.12/modules/pending [Modules] No updates to install [Modules] Checking for host updates. [Modules] Host is up to date. [Modules] Checking for module updates at https://discord.com/api/modules/stable/versions.json [Modules] No module updates available. [000:000] [33070] (engine.cpp:235): Time: Thu Oct 22 12:24:03 2020 EEST [000:000] [33070] (audio_device_impl.cc:121): Create [000:000] [33070] (audio_device_impl.cc:77): Create [000:000] [33070] (audio_device_impl.cc:84): CreateForTest [000:000] [33070] (audio_device_buffer.cc:61): AudioDeviceBuffer::ctor [000:000] [33070] (audio_device_impl.cc:127): AudioDeviceModuleImpl [000:000] [33070] (audio_device_impl.cc:131): CheckPlatform [000:000] [33070] (audio_device_impl.cc:142): current platform is Linux [000:000] [33070] (audio_device_impl.cc:161): CreatePlatformSpecificObjects [000:000] [33070] (audio_device_impl.cc:984): PlatformAudioLayer [000:000] [33070] (audio_device_impl.cc:299): PulseAudio support is enabled. [000:000] [33070] (audio_mixer_manager_pulse_linux.cc:56): AudioMixerManagerLinuxPulse created [000:000] [33070] (audio_device_pulse_linux.cc:82): AudioDeviceLinuxPulse created [000:000] [33070] (audio_device_impl.cc:304): Linux PulseAudio APIs will be utilized [000:001] [33070] (audio_device_impl.cc:348): AttachAudioBuffer [000:001] [33070] (audio_device_buffer.cc:178): SetRecordingSampleRate(0) [000:001] [33070] (audio_device_buffer.cc:184): SetPlayoutSampleRate(0) [000:001] [33070] (audio_device_buffer.cc:198): SetRecordingChannels(0) [000:001] [33070] (audio_device_buffer.cc:204): SetPlayoutChannels(0) [000:001] [33070] (audio_engine.cpp:39): Creating audio engine default: standard [000:001] [33070] (audio_device_impl.cc:368): Init [000:006] [33070] (audio_processing_impl.cc:395): Capture analyzer activated: 0 Capture post processor activated: 0 Render pre processor activated: 0 [000:006] [33070] (audio_processing_impl.cc:1733): AEC3 enabled: 0 [000:006] [33070] (audio_processing_impl.cc:395): Capture analyzer activated: 0 Capture post processor activated: 0 Render pre processor activated: 0 [000:006] [33070] (audio_processing_impl.cc:1733): AEC3 enabled: 0 [000:006] [33070] (echo_cancellation_impl.cc:205): AEC2 enabled: 0 [000:006] [33070] (audio_processing_impl.cc:665): Highpass filter activated: 1 [000:007] [33070] (audio_processing_impl.cc:679): Gain Controller 2 activated: 0 [000:007] [33070] (audio_processing_impl.cc:681): Pre-amplifier activated: 0 [000:007] [33070] (audio_device_impl.cc:896): RegisterAudioCallback [000:007] [33070] (audio_device_buffer.cc:79): RegisterAudioCallback [000:008] [33070] (device_info_linux.cc:40): NumberOfDevices [000:063] [33070] (audio_device_impl.cc:358): ActiveAudioLayer [000:101] [33046] (discord.cpp:492): JS console: ["%c[default]","\n font-weight: bold;\n color: purple;\n","[NATIVE INFO] host 0.0.12, modules: discord_desktop_core: 4, discord_erlpack: 1, discord_game_utils: 1, discord_rpc: 1, discord_spellcheck: 1, discord_utils: 2, discord_voice: 2"] [000:113] [33046] (discord.cpp:492): JS console: ["[FAST CONNECT] connected in 311ms"] [000:409] [33070] (audio_engine.cpp:103): Setting audio input device (default): 'Built-in Audio Analog Stereo' [000:409] [33070] (audio_device_impl.cc:582): SetStereoRecording(1) [000:409] [33070] (audio_device_buffer.cc:198): SetRecordingChannels(2) [000:409] [33070] (audio_device_impl.cc:789): SetRecordingDevice [000:409] [33070] (audio_device_generic.cc:66): SetRecordingDevice: Not supported on this platform [000:409] [33070] (audio_device_impl.cc:777): SetRecordingDevice(1) [Modules] Starting to install discord_krisp... [000:410] [33070] (audio_device_impl.cc:570): StereoRecordingIsAvailable [000:410] [33070] (audio_mixer_manager_pulse_linux.cc:195): MicrophoneIsInitialized [000:410] [33070] (audio_device_impl.cc:577): output: 1 [000:410] [33070] (audio_device_impl.cc:582): SetStereoRecording(1) [000:410] [33070] (audio_device_buffer.cc:198): SetRecordingChannels(2) [000:410] [33070] (audio_mixer_manager_pulse_linux.cc:667): input device index has not been set [000:410] [33070] (audio_device_impl.cc:551): SetMicrophoneVolume(255) [000:410] [33070] (audio_mixer_manager_pulse_linux.cc:573): input device index has not been set [000:410] [33070] (audio_engine.cpp:117): Setting audio output device(default): 'Built-in Audio Analog Surround 2.1' [000:410] [33070] (audio_device_impl.cc:721): SetPlayoutDevice [000:410] [33070] (audio_device_generic.cc:61): SetPlayoutDevice: Not supported on this platform [Modules] Fetching [email protected] from https://discord.com/api/modules/stable/discord_krisp/0 [000:410] [33070] (audio_device_impl.cc:709): SetPlayoutDevice(1) [000:410] [33070] (audio_device_impl.cc:613): StereoPlayoutIsAvailable [000:410] [33070] (audio_mixer_manager_pulse_linux.cc:188): SpeakerIsInitialized [Modules] Streaming [email protected] to /home/rado/.config/discord/0.0.12/modules/pending/discord_krisp-0.zip [000:410] [33070] (audio_device_impl.cc:620): output: 0 [000:410] [33070] (audio_device_impl.cc:625): SetStereoPlayout(0) [000:410] [33070] (audio_device_buffer.cc:204): SetPlayoutChannels(1) [000:410] [33070] (audio_mixer_manager_pulse_linux.cc:667): input device index has not been set [000:410] [33070] (audio_device_impl.cc:551): SetMicrophoneVolume(47) [000:410] [33070] (audio_mixer_manager_pulse_linux.cc:573): input device index has not been set [000:414] [33046] (discord.cpp:492): JS console: ["%c[CloudSyncUtils]","\n font-weight: bold;\n color: purple;\n","CloudSync is not supported on this platform"] [000:490] [33070] (audio_engine.cpp:103): Setting audio input device (default): 'Built-in Audio Analog Stereo' [000:490] [33070] (audio_device_impl.cc:889): Recording [000:490] [33070] (audio_device_impl.cc:582): SetStereoRecording(1) [000:490] [33070] (audio_device_buffer.cc:198): SetRecordingChannels(2) [000:490] [33070] (audio_device_impl.cc:789): SetRecordingDevice [000:490] [33070] (audio_device_generic.cc:66): SetRecordingDevice: Not supported on this platform [000:491] [33070] (audio_device_impl.cc:777): SetRecordingDevice(1) [000:491] [33070] (audio_device_impl.cc:570): StereoRecordingIsAvailable [000:491] [33070] (audio_mixer_manager_pulse_linux.cc:195): MicrophoneIsInitialized [000:491] [33070] (audio_device_impl.cc:577): output: 1 [000:491] [33070] (audio_device_impl.cc:582): SetStereoRecording(1) [000:491] [33070] (audio_device_buffer.cc:198): SetRecordingChannels(2) [000:491] [33070] (audio_mixer_manager_pulse_linux.cc:667): input device index has not been set [000:491] [33070] (audio_device_impl.cc:551): SetMicrophoneVolume(47) [000:491] [33070] (audio_mixer_manager_pulse_linux.cc:573): input device index has not been set [000:491] [33070] (audio_engine.cpp:117): Setting audio output device(default): 'Built-in Audio Analog Surround 2.1' [000:491] [33070] (audio_device_impl.cc:858): Playing [000:491] [33070] (audio_device_impl.cc:721): SetPlayoutDevice [000:491] [33070] (audio_device_generic.cc:61): SetPlayoutDevice: Not supported on this platform [000:492] [33070] (audio_device_impl.cc:709): SetPlayoutDevice(1) [000:492] [33070] (audio_device_impl.cc:613): StereoPlayoutIsAvailable [000:492] [33070] (audio_mixer_manager_pulse_linux.cc:188): SpeakerIsInitialized [000:492] [33070] (audio_device_impl.cc:620): output: 0 [000:492] [33070] (audio_device_impl.cc:625): SetStereoPlayout(0) [000:492] [33070] (audio_device_buffer.cc:204): SetPlayoutChannels(1) [000:497] [33046] (discord.cpp:492): JS console: ["%c[GatewaySocket]","\n font-weight: bold;\n color: purple;\n","Connected, current state is 0"] [000:497] [33046] (discord.cpp:492): JS console: ["%c[GatewayDiscovery]","\n font-weight: bold;\n color: purple;\n","[STICKY] wss://gateway.discord.gg"] [000:506] [33046] (discord.cpp:492): JS console: ["%c[GatewaySocket]","\n font-weight: bold;\n color: purple;\n","[CONNECT] wss://gateway.discord.gg, encoding: etf, version: 8, compression: zlib-stream"] [000:506] [33046] (discord.cpp:492): JS console: ["%c[GatewaySocket]","\n font-weight: bold;\n color: purple;\n","[CONNECTED] wss://gateway.discord.gg/?encoding=etf&v=8&compress=zlib-stream in 1 ms"] [000:507] [33046] (discord.cpp:492): JS console: ["%c[ConnectionStore]","\n font-weight: bold;\n color: purple;\n","handleIdentify called","[object Object]"] [000:507] [33046] (discord.cpp:492): JS console: ["%c[GatewaySocket]","\n font-weight: bold;\n color: purple;\n","[IDENTIFY]"] [000:514] [33046] (discord.cpp:492): JS console: ["%c[GatewaySocket]","\n font-weight: bold;\n color: purple;\n","[HELLO] via [\"gateway-prd-main-0pdg\",{\"micros\":0.0}], heartbeat interval: 41250, took 8 ms"] [000:599] [33046] (discord.cpp:492): JS console: ["%c[RPCServer:WSS]","\n font-weight: bold;\n color: purple;\n","Starting on 6463"] Error downloading with electron net: HTTP Error: Status Code 403 Falling back to node net library.. [000:644] [33046] (discord.cpp:492): JS console: ["%c[RPCServer:IPC]","\n font-weight: bold;\n color: purple;\n","Starting on /run/use1000/discord-ipc-0"] [Modules] Failed fetching module [email protected]: Error: HTTP Error: Status Code 403 [Modules] Finished module downloads. [success: 0] [failure: 1] [001:002] [33046] (discord.cpp:492): JS console: ["%c[GatewaySocket]","\n font-weight: bold;\n color: purple;\n","[READY] took 496ms, via [\"gateway-prd-main-0pdg\",{\"micros\":170317,\"calls\":[\"discord-sessions-prd-2-38\",{\"micros\":164527,\"calls\":[\"start_session\",{\"micros\":89159,\"calls\":[\"api-prd-main-6qgd\",{\"micros\":78956,\"calls\":[\"get_user\",{\"micros\":5929},\"add_authorized_ip\",{\"micros\":10943},\"get_guilds\",{\"micros\":6824},\"private_channels\",{\"micros\":11460},\"read_states\",{\"micros\":3943},\"coros_wait\",{\"micros\":14107},\"aliases\",{\"micros\":4430},\"affine_user_ids\",{\"micros\":4100},\"experiments\",{\"micros\":2213}]}]},\"guilds_connect\",{\"micros\":2371,\"calls\":[]},\"presence_connect\",{\"micros\":51278,\"calls\":[]}]}]}] as 7bf99ea86b55a32613afae73001579ae"] [001:008] [33070] (device_info_linux.cc:40): NumberOfDevices [001:010] [33046] (discord.cpp:492): JS console: ["%c[AuthenticationStore]","\n font-weight: bold;\n color: purple;\n","handleConnectionOpen called","[object Object]"] [001:048] [33046] (discord.cpp:492): JS console: ["%c[NativeDispatchUtils]","\n font-weight: bold;\n color: purple;\n","Tried getting Dispatch instance before instantiated"] (electron) 'setBadgeCount function' is deprecated and will be removed. Please use 'badgeCount property' instead. [002:012] [33070] (device_info_linux.cc:40): NumberOfDevices Crash dump id: cae21e53-a35e-497d-b38a-34a149539c74 [WebContents] crashed... reloading [Modules] Starting to install discord_krisp... [Modules] Fetching [email protected] from https://discord.com/api/modules/stable/discord_krisp/0 [Modules] Streaming [email protected] to /home/rado/.config/discord/0.0.12/modules/pending/discord_krisp-0.zip Error downloading with electron net: HTTP Error: Status Code 403 Falling back to node net library.. [Modules] Failed fetching module [email protected]: Error: HTTP Error: Status Code 403 [Modules] Finished module downloads. [success: 0] [failure: 1] [WebContents] double crashed... RIP =( 
submitted by strvs1 to discordapp [link] [comments]


2020.10.22 10:55 _juiceless iPhone 12 Pro Shipping Find... kinda

I pre ordered the iPhone 12 Pro at 5:02PST and my estimated delivery date is 10/23. As with other folks. I too have been looking for an shipping update, so I decided to do some browsing.
The My Verizon App shows that the phone will be “Ready to ship soon,” which is odd because I’d expect it to have shipped already for a release date delivery. I stumbled across the “Check Order Status” Verizon page and put in my order info: order number, location code, last name, zip code.
The status page shows my shipped date as 10/17 even though I’m not seeing the same in My Verizon, which makes me hopeful that the delivery will come on the expected day.
Check order form: https://www.verizon.com/od/cust/orderStatusIndex#/
Update: I went into the My Verizon app and asked the help chat “What is my tracking number?” and it gave it to me, even though the status says not shipped. I think that should help folks.
submitted by _juiceless to verizon [link] [comments]


2020.10.22 10:02 Caliponix 5 years with a Predator

I spent five years of my life in love with a predator. I question my judgement, with every encounter, because I know this snake got past it. I call him X.
I Loved Him. I felt soo lucky that he seemed interested in me, despite the ‘disadvantage’ of being 23 years younger than him. This wasn’t a trend in my life, I’d never dated someone remotely that far from my age range. It was something about X. I fell in love with his brain, his humor, the way my skin tingled when he touched me. For a while the chemistry was pure and electric.
There were issues, but they mostly seemed to come back at me. I was significantly less well off than X, he was a Dr. A well respected GP within his community. I was a single mother in my early 20s, and working at that time as a certified massage therapist. Daily life was a struggle for me, and X used money as a reason to withhold respect. If I wanted respect, I could be an equal contributor. Except he would always assure me that he knew I probably wouldn’t be able to make a comparable amount of money to him, he would accept it if I just achieved what he knew I was capable of. Because of how much he loved, and believed in me. Of course, getting a better job, rounding out my education, and raising my daughter were priorities for me, so him pushing me towards these things rang no alarms at the time.
I have spent most of my 20s trying to ‘Make It’. I’m 30 now. I didn’t ‘Make it’.
When X and I had been together about a year, when I was a 24 year old mother of 1, I learned that I had a genetic condition called Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome. The diagnosis was difficult to hear, but it clarified many of the unexplained health issues that had complicated my path to self sufficiency.
It was this diagnosis that led me to two, very painful, realizations. 1) I needed to retire from the career that was supporting my needs 2) I shouldn’t have any more children. For my health and theirs.
X was fine with us not planning to have children; he even got a vasectomy the following year. It was harder for me to accept. I had always hoped to have at least two children, I’m a middle child of four, and I wanted my daughter to have a sibling. It was a frequent subject of discussion for the year before his vasectomy, and even for some time after. I had a lot of trouble reconciling my understanding of my medical problems with my desires for the family I wanted to build.
X had 2 children of his own, a boy and a girl. Our kids were all 3 years apart, with my daughter being the youngest (*3yo at the start of our relationship). Neither he nor his children got on well with my daughter, despite me having a good relationship with both of his children. I couldn’t seem to get them to stop treating my daughter like an intruder, to give her the same latitude and understanding that they gave each other… I failed at communicating this, or preventing the bullying from affecting my daughter. I’ll carry the shame of that for the rest of my life. When my daughter comes to me about this one day, I’ll have no defense. Only apologies. She deserved so much better than that.
The really sad part is that I was convinced that she was still better off in that situation, than with me alone. I was so beaten down, so convinced of my own ineptitude. I relied on X to be the stability he said I lacked. At least she lived in a nice house, room to run and play safely, a tree-house to zip line off of (X and I spent 2 years building that), and chickens to chase. My daughter is just 10 now, and still has fond memories of that house, and the home we had there. I wonder when she’ll start to remember the bad. I’ll be here for her when she does.
INCIDENT: It was probably early fall, I can’t quite remember the exact details because this night was like so many others. Until it wasn’t. We had gone out to our hot tub, smoked some weed, X had a whisky and I had a hard cider. X had taken an Ambien right before getting into the hot tub, without planning to go to sleep, or telling me that he had taken a drug that impaired him to that degree. I don’t remember much about the conversation we’d had, but I do remember that I had to put a tampon in before getting in the hot-tub, since I was on the tail end of my period (Sorry TMI, but its relevant).
We came inside, toweled off, and were snacking away our munchies in the kitchen while family guy played on the TV in the living room. The open floor plan had the back of the main sofa parallel with the kitchen island, maybe 8 feet apart. Our heavy robes for walking in/outside were draped over the back of the couch, along with our clothes.
X was being sexual, groping me and manhandling me more than was typical even for him. I was beginning to sense that something was wrong. We were standing in front of the dishwasher; I had my back to the counter. We started to kiss, I tried to gently push him back from me, and he responded by grabbing me by the throat. He pushed me backwards quickly, with his body pressed against my legs holding them in place he forced my upper body straight back onto the counter. I was bent like an L over that counter backwards, I thought I had broken my spine, or ruptured a disc. After all, I could only go on the intensity of the pain I was feeling, which was extreme. I cried out “PANDA!!!” which while ridiculous, was also my safe word. He ignored it.
I began to scream, frantic shrieks of pain. At first X looked annoyed, but then he started to laugh. He pulled me down from the counter and dropped me to the floor facedown. I was still screaming. I was Begging him for help, while he watched me writhe. He told me to Shut Up. He kept laughing at me the whole time. Insulting me… for my low pain tolerance I guess. I slowly began to pull myself away from him, towards to sofa in the living room. Mostly I was dragging myself by my arms, as my legs were seized up and numb still from the trauma to my spinal column. I can’t remember everything he said, I only remember feeling increasing dread when he finally walked over to me. I wasn’t sure what was about to happen.
He reached down and pulled me up by my right wrist, and tossed me facedown over the back of the couch. My face was buried in the back of the brown suede seat, and I could feel X behind me, pressed against my butt, hard. He slapped my behind several times, very hard and then he was clearly about to start having sex with me. All the while I’m saying No No No over and over again, Panda, over and over again. At one point, right before he was about to enter I almost got him to stop, I cried “I’ve got a tampon in!” I felt his pause. Then he laughed again, and said he didn’t care. He entered me. Despite the waterlogged tampon in the way he just plugged away. It hurt very much. Sex was painful for weeks after that, but X seemed oblivious as to why my vag might need a @#%ing break. He didn’t apologize that I recall, or bring it up. I certainly didn’t. I kept my head down, worked my two jobs and juggled full time college courses. Dying inside. Being the best girlfriend he didn’t deserve, so that I could protect the life I had built for myself and my daughter.
INCIDENT: Nov 5-19th continuous It began just after election night. I got sick, very sick, while I was at my campus taking one of my classes. X and his kids had to come and pick me up because I wasn’t able to drive. He was very put out about it all, it was an inconvenience to him. I spent the next week with a rising fever, constant vomiting, a headache that’s close cousins with a hatchet, and body aches with chills fit to shatter me apart. I medicated for my symptoms, Tylenol, ibuprofen, all the standard stuff, which of course I had on hand living with an M.D. X kept a pharmacy in his walk in closet and under the sink. I tried to take care of myself, because DR X wanted nothing to do with me.
He felt I was ‘too upset’ about the election. It was nbd that Trump was setting down the path that led to HERE (10/21/2020). This was his justification for ignoring me while I wilted away. Sunday he left me alone, with all three children and informed me that it was my job to supervise them through all their Sunday chores while he was out. Never mind that I wound up chasing those cats until sanity demanded that I take a break from puking so I could do their chores myself. That way X wouldn’t come down on me for them not being done. I don’t know how I did it. He came home at the kids’ bedtime, and didn’t express any concern for me. It was Monday night when I took my temperature, it was 104.4 F.
I knew I was in serious trouble. X was out with his son, and his daughter with her mother, so I called a friend to take me to an urgent care. They transported me to a nearby hospital where I stayed for a week while under treatment for an aggressive kidney infection. It had been difficult to diagnose initially, because of my medical history with kidney infections, I’m generally pretty sure when I have one. But this sneaky bugger was asymptomatic, so I just thought I had a WICKED FLU that I needed to wait out.
X showed up 2x while I was in the hospital. Once the night I was admitted, to bring me a few things (*I think? Can’t really remember what happened that night, I was delirious), he didn’t hang around long. The next time was to pick, me up, the following Friday afternoon. I thought maybe he’d feel badly about how he’d treated me the week before, as I’d been getting sicker. He did initially, I thought. He wanted me to come with him, he said, to a friend’s house for a barbeque.
He’d been invited, and he’d been so busy all week and hadn’t had any time for HIM. “So it would mean so much if we could do this together, baby, please?” It turns out this friend was someone I’d met before, and didn’t have a great relationship with. I’d mostly been able to deescalate and stay chill around this guy, but he’s a real life troll who loves ticking people off, so it was a real struggle. It didn’t help that his relationship with his longtime girlfriend was one of the most obviously abusive relationships I’d ever seen. His name was Greg.
After attempting to get him to go on his own, let me stay home and rest (I was still sick, just well enough finally to leave the hospital). He insisted, he wouldn’t be able to enjoy himself if he went and left me home. It was key for his enjoyment that I be present. I wasn’t sure why at the time. I knew what would happen if I insisted on staying home. He would pout the whole night, and whine about how he couldn’t have any fun because he was busy being the BEST GUY EVER and tolerating my preferences. It would be less trouble I thought, to tolerate Greg for a few hours. Get some ground made up with X, let him know his needs were important to me. He claimed constantly that no one worried about his needs, they just expected him to fill theirs. He had been distant, and cruel. He was being nice to me right then, and I didn’t want it to change. I had felt so alone in the hospital, so ill for so long, I just wanted to be happy with my boyfriend for the time being. So.. off we went to Gregory’s house.
It was a long drive, about 45 minutes. We listened to music and talked about nothing, it was nice. As we were winding the long dirt road that was Greg’s driveway X casually tossed out: “Hey, just so you know, Greg is really happy about the election. Turns out he’s a huge Trump guy.” JUST F#$*ING GREAT
I generally prefer to avoid conflict. Its one of my chief character traits/flaws, and X was in no way ignorant of how stressful I would find this situation. I had brought along a book, and told him I planned to keep to myself and read my book. I wasn’t interested in engaging with Greg this way. But it was too late to back out, the drive was too long and I’d come in X’s car. I was stuck, and he knew it.
Greg started in on me right away. He basically ignored X and focused all his efforts on taunting the SJW snowflake millennial. I tried to ignore his baiting, and be civil, but indicate that I preferred to read my book, not talk about politics. He ignored this and instead grilled my awareness of Alt-right talking points against the Clintons. This went on for hours. I kept my cool for a long time. I tried to argue with facts, and not be diverted by his many attempts to bait me.
In order to gain some brief respite I wound up volunteering to cook dinner for everyone, since Greg’s browbeaten girlfriend couldn’t seem to figure out what would make ‘the men’ happy. She was so relieved when I offered; she scampered off to watch true c rime while I made Sloppy Joes, mac’n cheese, and a Caesar Salad. Greg showed up once the plates hit the table, tucked in and started straight back on politics.
I admit, I knew when I said that Trump’s history as a chauvinist and alleged Rapist made him unfit for office that I would strike a nerve. Turns out it was Greg’s Hulk Button. He literally turned purple defending Trump(?)’s relationships with women. It was at this point that true insults, no longer disguised thinly as jokes began to fly between Greg and I. X NEVER OPENED HIS MOUTH. He just Watched.
After a few moments of escalating screaming, I left Greg’s home and went outside to wait for X, so we could leave. X didn’t come out for almost half an hour. He told me later that he was trying to calm down Greg, he felt bad that I’d upset him.
As we drove off in silence, one question kept coming up in my mind, and finally I asked him: “Why did you want me to come? Didn’t you know this would happen?” “No!” he insisted “I just thought it would be funny, give you a chance to rip into a trump guy, right?” “You know I hate conflict in general, and arguing with stupid people in specific! How could you think this was ok?” I never got an adequate answer from him. He usually claims ignorance of the potential outcome. If that’s true, then he’s a lot less smart than he likes to assert. I spent the next few days resting at home, doing my best to avoid him, and the inevitable conflict that would follow.
INCIDENT: Spring 2017 Another incident with a friend of X’s. His name is Ted. Ted comes over to our house one day and starts playing the Libertarians favorite game: bait the libtard (his words)
I’m trying to be a good hostess, fetching drinks and politely listening to this man explain away societies problems based on his experiences as a ‘self made career military man’. Dude fixes Blackhawk helicopters. He’s in his sixties, I think. X sat there, while Ted talked about the wage gap being a figment of the liberal imagination. Women and men get paid the same for the same work, period. This was his stance, and X replies “Yeah, I don’t know any female Dr’s who make less than me, if they work as hard.”
I was stunned. Not only was this a**hole in my house spouting chauvanist BS--Ugh, sorry, this still steams me up..—X was agreeing with him, supporting his arguments. I was so angry, but felt outnumbered so I opted to retreat. I left the house and went for a cigarette. When I came back Ted was getting on his motorcycle and left. He was so shaken by the whole interaction he wrecked a few miles away, luckily sustaining only minor injuries. I was blamed for this by X. But we didn’t know that Yet.
We began to argue heatedly, I was angry and hurt that he had sided with Ted on this Factually documented issue in our society. When I brought this up, he insisted he was as Woke as Woke Gets, and if I really loved him I would know that of course he supports women’s rights, black rights, trans rights, gay rights.. until one of his friends disagrees. Then his views magically shift to line up with all these right wing conservative libertarian guys, which seemed to compromise about 60% of his friend group.
The fight got more heated. I tried to leave, to cool off, and X insisted I needed to stay, to work things out. We were in our bedroom, and he blocked my access to the door. I was overwrought and coming undone, I wanted nothing more in that moment than to get away from him. He grabs my arms above the elbows and wrestles me to the ground. I writhed, trying to get away. My left elbow was ground into the carpet repeatedly, and I have the scars of blotches on my arm 3 years later where they were skinned.
I was blamed for this. I was blamed for ‘ruining our date night’ because I had an issue with something totally unimportant. I’d over reacted. He convinced me that I had. I could only push so far before the knowledge that my ability to provide a home for my daughter hinged on this relationship working. No way could I afford a place on my own on one salary, let alone one fit to share with my then six year old. We went on our date night that night, a group dinner with many of his friends. He didn’t speak to me the whole evening, barely even on the ride home. That was how he acted after he got his way. To really hammer home that it wasn’t worth it for me to take any issue, with anything he said or did. I think that was the day I realized I had to leave him. It would take time, and I needed a plan.
EXODUS: I spent 2 months looking for a place to live, searching for new jobs, new options. In July I went to a protest on Monument Avenue in Richmond, and there I ran into some old friends, people I hadn’t hung out with since I met X. For the first time in a long time, I was social with someone other than HIS friends, or people at my work or school. I was a very busy person, always going. I’d spent 5 years getting more and more isolated. The floodgates opened, and I told them what was happening. They helped me coordinate, and find a place that I could move to inside of the week. I had a plan; my dad was even flying out to help me move. X still didn’t know.
This was something I struggled with a lot, I felt dishonest, which I suppose is accurate. I lied to him, told him everything was OK. I was withdrawn, and quiet, but mostly focused on not rocking the boat before I could spring my plan into action. I didn’t want to emotionally scar my daughter, so I prepared her, and her father agreed to keep her with him until I made the switch. X was relieved to have time without her around, he didn’t question it.
Just three days before my dad was going to fly in, I was sleeping in my daughter’s bed (for privacy and safety), and was awoken by X, screaming in my face. He’d opened up my phone and gone through my texts, found out what I was planning, and lost his freaking mind. He couldn’t believe that I’d lied to him about wanting to work on our relationship when I was planning to bounce. I told him it was because of this kind of reaction from him that I’d kept the secret. He was flabbergasted, I remember him saying that he –“can’t believe You would ever leave ME, you promised me you’d NEVER leave!”
That really took me aback. I felt a well of guilt, because I HAD promised him that. Then I remembered, I made that promise before he violently raped me. Then I felt less guilt. I told him in no uncertain terms that I was done with him, and he was the reason why. That he’s the demon that haunts my dreams now. When I left following this confrontation, he was throwing my stuff after me, telling me that my life would fall apart without him.
I really wanted him to be wrong. I wish he had been wrong. More than anything, I wish this were the end of the story.
SPIRALLING: For awhile things were ok, I was working multiple jobs, and was able to meet my expenses, and take care of my daughter. The place I was living was 90 min from God and Everywhere, but it was rent free, so that balanced a lot. Then, my health began to spiral. I was in and out of the ER multiple times, and my mental state was beginning to show cracks. Anxiety and depression were ruling my whole life, and I was a wreck. My physical health was what made it all go pear shaped though. I lost two jobs in one week, because of health related issues. I was Fainting, vomiting, etc. It makes you an unreliable employee, dontcha know? So, suddenly money was a serious problem, and the cracks in my mental state turned into the Grand FREAKING Canyon. Straight up, I had a mental breakdown. My best efforts had failed. X had been right. I was a failure. My daughter deserved better than me. At this time she started staying more with her father, and I would visit her there. I didn’t feel capable anymore, I was broken.
Then, there was this day, where my friend had kindly offered to let me stay at his house while I tried to snap myself out of it. I climbed into the shower.. and I didn’t leave it for almost three days. I just cried. Constantly.
In a moment of weakness, I reached out to X, whom I had totally cut off contact with several months before. He was doing great! He’d started going to therapy, and meditating every day. Really ‘worked’ on himself. He seemed like a totally different man than the one I’d left the year before. I began to wonder if I’d made a mistake.
X spent a lot of time with me for the next few weeks, trying to help me put myself back together. I was very near the danger zone… mentally speaking, and I felt a lot of gratitude to him for helping me out of my spiral.
Now, lets fast forward to August 2019. I had moved from my home on the east coast out to AZ to be closer to my dad. My daughter is currently living overseas with her father (who has been supportive throughout this process) and thriving. I am somehow able to better serve her as her mother from a distance, we talk every day, discuss life and difficulties. Its not ideal, but in the times of Covid, I’m just glad that she’s somewhere safe.
Now, this was right after she’d left the country, and the situation was still fresh. I was lonely, and sad. I missed my daughter. I’d had her with me every single day for a year, and suddenly, poof, she’s gone.
X calls me, and says he has plans to go to Dragon Con in Atlanta, just like he and I had done together the last four years. He wants me to go with him. Offers to buy my ticket and take care of the plane, he insisted he wouldn’t have any fun there if I wasn’t with him. I decided that it would be a good distraction, which I needed at that point. I thought, after a full year of weekly therapy and daily meditation and self reflection, as well as many discussions with me regarding the abuse he committed against me while we were together. He seemed to truly have internalized what I’d told him, and done the work to address his behaviors. I felt safe to go. Surely, things would be different now. I feel like such an idiot.
At first, things were mostly ok. We walked around the booths, saw famous people, smoked, and hung out with people that we’d met there over the years. One such man was Justin. I’d only met him one other year, and hadn’t spent much time around him before this. However, this time, he was in the room next door to ours, so the run ins and hang outs were more frequent. He, X and I spent most of the weekend together going around the Con. Saturday night, while riding up the Marriott elevator to our rooms, Justin casually mentioned that if we ever wanted a partner for a 3 way, he would be down.
At first I thought he was joking, and then X looked at me. Grinned and winked. This wouldn’t be a first for us, he has a voyeurism thing, and I have an ‘I like good sex’ thing. We chatted about it briefly before realizing we were all very much down for this. We spent the entire next day and a good chunk of the night in bed. Not gonna go into detail there, sorry.
Ok, I do have to go into some detail, very minor. While the three of us had been mutually involved all day, it turned out that the pairing that ended the session was Justin and I. By the end of it I was so sore, unless you have lady parts I don’t know how to convey how tender and raw my insides felt after this MARATHON session of really lovely sex. Some of it was even with X.
Justin packs up to leave in the morning, the con is over, and the mass exodus of nerds has begun. Our hotel checkout isn’t until the afternoon, X plans to drop me off at the airport before beginning his drive home. Once Justin goes, X tells me that before I leave, he wants us to have sex one more time. I told him I was in too much pain, No. I was pretty firm on that point. He told me that after paying for everything, including my plane home, he wanted to be the last penis inside me, and since it was so important to his emotional state he contended that I should just lay back and think of England. So, that’s exactly what happened. It was excruciating. I thought about it the entire plane ride home. My dad was so mad that I had gone on the trip with X in the first place that he and his wife stopped talking to me when I came back. I mean, they were right. I couldn’t tell them what had happened. It’s my own fault, right? My own shitty judgment.
He didn’t really change. His feelings (a.k.a: dick) were more important than my physical pain.
I don’t know why I didn’t cut him off right then.
We were in contact fairly frequently over the last year. We are not together, but X tries to maintain that connection with me. Saying I’m free to date who I want, obviously, but wait, who are you going out with? Will there be men there? Do they have PENISES??? I’m exaggerating, ok. Let’s just say he was hyper aware of the potential of me meeting someone else. He would talk about the singularness of our love, how nothing else could compare. He constantly brought up the idea that we would end up together, once our kids were grown and his parents die he’s pretty sure that’s all our relationship issues dealt with. I usually responded tepidly. I told him I didn’t think that was likely, that we broke up for damn good reasons. None of that ever stuck to his Teflon brain. I felt like I still needed him. I don’t really get why. Part of it is defiantly medical. I’ve relied on his help for way too long. In a world with unreliable insurance coverage knowing a Dr can save you a pretty penny. But I realized, recently, that knowing him is a stone around my neck. I’ve gone no contact. I hope it’s for the last time.
Unless there is some way for me to force him to face some accountability for this shit, I never want to speak to him again. I thought he’d changed, I thought maybe I’d helped make him a better man. I didn’t, I just made him a better manipulator.
ISMS: X- “The Safest place for you is Right next to Me.” “You know, you take this for granted, but I’m in this because I LOVE you, not because I’m worried about where I’m gonna live, or if I can keep custody of my kids! I’m in this because I Value You.” “WHAT?!-That was Rape??” “There’s nothing stopping you, you just need to try harder (subtext: Be More Like Me)
submitted by Caliponix to sexualassault [link] [comments]


2020.10.22 04:18 hokieman93 Do I need to get out?

Alright. Previously sought with girl we'll call Annie. Back for more.
I met Annie in the spring via a dating app. Try to be succinct with the summary.
May: Meet Annie. Talk for a while. Find she's not only attractive, but has a very similar sense of humor. Same podcasts. Same general professional industry. Kinda go quiet one weekend and get unmatched. For the first time ever (been using apps for years for hookups), I find her on Facebook using info she gave me. Ask her to do something when restaurants open up. We talk more. Hit it off more. I stick my foot in my mouth and she nixes me. I reach out after 2 weeks. We start talking again. She asks me to grab a beer and I say no; I'll buy you dinner. She says it isn't a date; she's jaded with dating. Take her at her word and we go out to dinner. Goes fairly well, but I was sort of resentful and timid about making a move since she seemed to be so willing to drop guys for one word mistakes. Initially think there's too many roadblocks in terms of my own preferences, but figure it's worth another date.
June: Go out to brunch week after. Goes well. I start to like this girl at this point. Very compatible humor. More than just a desire to hit and quit, but a real expectation she'll recoil and reject if I make a move for same reasons above, plus I'm still taking her at her word. Later go out to dinner with her and her friends visiting from out of town.
July: Go out with another girl on 4th and can only think of Annie, who is out of town. Annie comes back and we go to another brunch. Tell her I'm okay changing zip code to her friend zone, but I've caught feels. She says she'll think on it. (I took it as a rejection). We go out a couple more times that month. Nothing physical apart from bye hugs.
August: We go to a bar where she shows signs of interest toward this guy just passing through. I sit back and think "welp, never seen that towards me. I'm wasting my time." Am drunk at home one night swiping through apps week later. She pops up. Text and say we keep coming up with ways to say no to each other. She says she only sees me as a friend and wonders if I see it going beyond that. I drunkenly call and say it's ok, I've got her answer. We don't talk much for the rest of the month.
September: She hits me up to go out Early Sept. I finally relent. She tells me she didn't mean August rejection as a categorical no. Lays out that she can see something developing later and talks about building a relationship based on initial start as friends. She's flirty and touchy for first time ever. I don't make a move because I'm kinda inebriated and skeptical that it's just a way to keep me around and waiting. She says I hurt myself by not expressing a physical interest early on. Clarifies first few meetups were dates. We talk about doing something later that weekend. Nothing materializes. Still gives me (false?) hope. We see each other a couple times. I send flowers late in the month. She makes plans to do dinner and something fun. Those get cancelled because of family stuff for both of us. Think it's probably the last missed opportunity.
October: Go out a few times to bars and dinners. Plan a long weekend getaway to the upper Appalachians to hike and look at foliage in New England. Nothing is ever said in addition to initial "maybe" convo. We don't text as much. I've convinced myself it isn't happening and is time to move on.
Trip is coming up in a couple weeks. Two bed air B&B in Vermont. I get the sense it's a "just as friends". We've both seen other people, post jokes about our dating life (with screenshots). She's generally emotionally unavailable. I'm cautious unless I'm looking for a one night. I always pay for everything.
I've concluded I can't just be friends. Think I need to walk away, but it's gonna suck because she's awesome. I've had fun hanging out during the past 6 months. But I've romanticized her too much in my brain, but also see her as a candidate to take home to family (I NEVER do this).
Am I right? Am I only setting myself up for heartache? Need to rip the bandaid off now? Make a move? Have a tough convo? Just let things die off? Be patient? Thoughts? Help?
submitted by hokieman93 to relationship_advice [link] [comments]


2020.10.22 01:16 hoser2112 10-21 COVID-19 Update for Santa Clara County

The county reported 137 new cases today, and I count 128 of those falling within the past 7 days. The county reported 3 new deaths. We are currently in the Orange Tier. The state monitoring chart is updated weekly, the covid19.ca.gov site currently lists a daily COVID-19 case per 100k rate of 4.7 (for the week ending 9/26), with an adjusted case rate of 3.5 (there's an adjustment factor depending on how many tests per 100k you do compared against the state average, for Santa Clara's testing rate that adjustment factor is currently 0.739).
City Total Cases New Cases Added Today Total Past 7 Days Daily Average per 100K
Campbell 416 2 41 13.79
Cupertino 141 1 5 1.18
Gilroy 1667 8 48 12.35
Los Altos 131 0 5 2.34
Los Altos Hills 38 0 1 1.68
Los Gatos 197 -2 6 2.77
Milpitas 616 2 17 3.14
Monte Sereno 19 0 0 0.00
Morgan Hill 654 1 12 3.91
Mountain View 643 5 23 4.06
Other 907 2 27
Palo Alto 322 2 8 1.71
San Jose 15551 101 512 7.12
Santa Clara 1121 6 52 5.89
Saratoga 127 1 7 3.24
Sunnyvale 1041 3 26 2.44

ZIP Total Cases New Cases Added Today Total Past 7 Days Daily Average per 100K
94022 89 0 5 3.69
94024 78 0 1 0.60
94040 294 5 20 7.97
94041 135 0 1 0.99
94043 203 0 2 0.91
94085 275 -1 2 1.21
94086 354 1 15 4.32
94087 225 0 3 0.75
94089 179 3 6 3.84
94301 109 0 3 2.49
94304 31 0 2 7.32
94305 22 0 0 0.00
94306 125 0 1 0.52
95002 36 0 0 0.00
95008 407 2 41 12.59
95014 138 1 4 0.92
95020 1622 8 45 10.07
95030 56 0 1 1.08
95032 147 -2 5 2.72
95035 614 2 17 3.13
95037 639 1 12 3.32
95046 130 3 7 16.60
95050 457 3 32 11.59
95051 390 2 10 2.46
95054 263 1 10 5.89
95070 124 1 7 3.19
95110 520 2 14 9.90
95111 1557 8 48 10.99
95112 996 7 31 7.25
95113 60 1 3 22.10
95116 1562 14 51 12.90
95117 530 6 19 9.17
95118 335 3 20 8.78
95119 69 1 2 2.73
95120 206 2 8 3.03
95121 513 4 13 4.87
95122 1802 11 64 15.82
95123 838 3 26 5.48
95124 315 2 11 3.07
95125 584 4 32 8.53
95126 527 6 11 4.37
95127 1531 13 58 12.61
95128 427 1 13 4.93
95129 154 0 7 2.51
95130 89 0 4 3.84
95131 264 2 6 2.75
95132 348 0 12 4.10
95133 405 3 17 8.45
95134 171 1 2 1.05
95135 88 2 5 3.19
95136 648 1 14 4.20
95138 186 2 9 6.19
95139 61 0 2 3.92
95148 586 1 2 0.58
The growth of new cases, eliminating the most recent 2 days and then comparing the previous 7 days to the 7 days before that, we end up with 1.02. If we do the same, but eliminate the most recent 5 days, we end up with 1.12. In all cases, a number over 1 means the number of new cases per day is growing, a number less than 1 means the number of new cases per day is shrinking.
The daily average case rate per 100k over the past 7 days (excluding the most recent five days) is 5.79. The adjusted case rate is 4.28. Note that the state uses different data for their tier level calculations, which generally comes in lower than this calculation.
Note that the date a case is reported on is the date of the first test, not when the results were reported, so the data for the last 5+ days is incomplete and cases will continue to be added to those dates.
Case Date Cases New Cases Added Today
Sep 14 121 0
Sep 15 226 0
Sep 16 149 0
Sep 17 171 0
Sep 18 131 0
Sep 19 70 0
Sep 20 42 0
Sep 21 123 0
Sep 22 145 0
Sep 23 138 0
Sep 24 115 0
Sep 25 97 0
Sep 26 54 0
Sep 27 38 0
Sep 28 90 0
Sep 29 140 0
Sep 30 115 0
Oct 1 122 0
Oct 2 121 0
Oct 3 65 0
Oct 4 43 0
Oct 5 84 0
Oct 6 149 0
Oct 7 127 0
Oct 8 123 0
Oct 9 112 1
Oct 10 80 0
Oct 11 42 1
Oct 12 129 0
Oct 13 143 0
Oct 14 135 0
Oct 15 156 14
Oct 16 106 40
Oct 17 49 36
Oct 18 12 4
Oct 19 31 30
Oct 20 4 4

Lab report, additions were made to the negative result number throughout. The average test positive rate over the past 7 days (excluding the most recent three days) is 1.56%.
Positive Negative New Positive Tests Today New Negative Tests Today Test Positive Rate
Sep 21 141 7348 0 26 1.88%
Sep 22 167 8959 0 71 1.83%
Sep 23 168 9196 0 37 1.79%
Sep 24 134 7901 0 26 1.67%
Sep 25 113 7258 0 37 1.53%
Sep 26 73 3444 0 25 2.08%
Sep 27 50 2200 0 3 2.22%
Sep 28 100 7092 0 20 1.39%
Sep 29 170 9117 0 38 1.83%
Sep 30 139 9267 0 51 1.48%
Oct 1 139 6996 0 28 1.95%
Oct 2 139 7765 0 43 1.76%
Oct 3 78 3942 0 39 1.94%
Oct 4 54 2537 0 4 2.08%
Oct 5 101 8364 0 42 1.19%
Oct 6 163 10752 0 104 1.49%
Oct 7 146 9973 0 46 1.44%
Oct 8 141 8871 0 53 1.56%
Oct 9 133 8074 0 41 1.62%
Oct 10 95 3938 0 26 2.36%
Oct 11 48 2596 1 5 1.82%
Oct 12 143 7446 -1 44 1.88%
Oct 13 167 11130 1 108 1.48%
Oct 14 154 10887 0 1589 1.39%
Oct 15 179 10314 17 1834 1.71%
Oct 16 119 9108 49 3179 1.29%
Oct 17 68 3808 47 1328 1.75%
Oct 18 18 1597 9 896 1.11%
Oct 19 36 3997 34 3734 0.89%
Oct 20 6 659 6 659 0.90%

Hospitalizations, using the state dashboard there are 25 cases in the ICU, down 1, and 99 total cases hospitalized, up 8. Using the county dashboard, there are 23 cases in the ICU, unchanged, 96 total cases hospitalized, up 8, and 18 new admissions.
Long term care facilities, over the past week they added 58 cases, 11 hospital admissions, and 13 deaths to the dashboard.
submitted by hoser2112 to bayarea [link] [comments]


2020.10.21 23:24 -rensenware- Strange discord crashing

Title. My system is updated to the latest version. I didn't update anything that I know would directly affect discord in the last update, but after logging on today, discord hangs on startup and glitches out. It has an initial animation it plays, and it just goes white like this. It crashes very soon after that white screen and I can't do anything. Neither clearing all config files/cache for discord nor reinstalling it fixed the issue. Here's the error when running it from the terminal:
Discord 0.0.12 Starting app. Starting updater. [Modules] Modules initializing [Modules] Distribution: remote [Modules] Host updates: enabled [Modules] Module updates: enabled [Modules] Module install path: /home/rensenware/.config/discord/0.0.12/modules [Modules] Module installed file path: /home/rensenware/.config/discord/0.0.12/modules/installed [Modules] Module download path: /home/rensenware/.config/discord/0.0.12/modules/pending [10104:1021/172138.394795:ERROR:buffer_manager.cc(488)] [.DisplayCompositor]GL ERROR :GL_INVALI [Modules] No updates to install [Modules] Checking for host updates. [Modules] Host is up to date. [Modules] Checking for module updates at https://discord.com/api/modules/stable/versions.json [Modules] No module updates available. [10104:1021/172138.656893:ERROR:buffer_manager.cc(488)] [.DisplayCompositor]GL ERROR :GL_INVALI [Modules] Starting to install discord_krisp... [Modules] Fetching [email protected] from https://discord.com/api/modules/stable/discord_krisp/0 [Modules] Streaming [email protected] to /home/rensenware/.config/discord/0.0.12/modules/pending/ Error downloading with electron net: HTTP Error: Status Code 403 Falling back to node net library.. [Modules] Failed fetching module [email protected]: Error: HTTP Error: Status Code 403 [Modules] Finished module downloads. [success: 0] [failure: 1] Crash dump id: 8ccc2d54-77f1-4771-9ada-bb77856fb10d [WebContents] crashed... reloading [10104:1021/172141.746150:ERROR:buffer_manager.cc(488)] [.DisplayCompositor]GL ERROR :GL_INVALID_OPERATION : glBufferData: <- error from previous GL command [Modules] Starting to install discord_krisp... [Modules] Fetching [email protected] from https://discord.com/api/modules/stable/discord_krisp/0 [Modules] Streaming [email protected] to /home/rensenware/.config/discord/0.0.12/modules/pending/discord_krisp-0.zip Error downloading with electron net: HTTP Error: Status Code 403 Falling back to node net library.. [Modules] Failed fetching module [email protected]: Error: HTTP Error: Status Code 403 [Modules] Finished module downloads. [success: 0] [failure: 1] [WebContents] double crashed... RIP =( 
I'm using the latest zen kernel. Running discord with a no gpu use flag does not solve the issue. Any ideas what this is? I'm running dwm with dunst as a notification server and picom for my compositor. Lacking a notification server is the only thing I've found online that can cause hang-ups / crashes like this, but I don't meet that criteria.
submitted by -rensenware- to archlinux [link] [comments]


2020.10.21 20:38 Erutious The Kindness

We are monsters. We have taken something beautiful and turned it ugly. We have sacrificed a good man, and for what? Peace? Ha! If it comes at the expense of that one man, then it is a dark and terrible thing, peace.
His name was Eric Jameson, and he saved Stragview from the Riots.
Eric Jameson, Officer Jameson, was probably the nicest guy you'll ever meet. He was a career officer, who had forgotten more about corrections than most of us ever knew, and his appearance was vaguely Chinese or maybe Korean. He always wore his hair in one of those buns, his windows peek, never touching the thick gray main on the top, and he always reminded me of the uncle from the Avatar show in the way he spoke and carried himself.
I got to work with him on my first night flying solo on the compound, and it was an experience I wouldn't trade for anything. When you walked with him through the quad, it was as though the clouds lifted away from the sun. Inmates smiled more, officers were less surly, and everyone was just in a better mood when Jameson was around. He was personable as well, remembering inmates' names and asking about their troubles. He passed five times as much time in the quads as any other officer I'd ever known, a practice that would have gotten anyone, but Jameson dragged into the Investigators office under speculation of Inmate collusion. Jameson did the same to his fellow officers, too, and I never saw anyone snap or take a surly tone with Jameson. The way he walked amongst his charges was utterly devoid of fear or nerves. He walked through the quad as though it were his home, and the inmates were no more than his neighbors whom he was greeting on his way home from work.
This was not a skill he had gained from years of experience, though.
Jameson had a way about him that was undeniable.
Jameson had a vibration about him that broke up tension.
It was an ability I got to see first hand.
About a year after I started with the department, we had a significant disturbance in F dorm. What had started as a skirmish between rival gangs had devolved into a fight that threatened to bathe the whole quad in blood. It all came to a head at lunchtime, and the two gangs had taken advantage of the other inmates leaving. We were poised to roll into the dorm with force, blood and weapons already present in the quad when Jameson stepped past the Captain and walked inside. Twenty or so men looked at him, their faces covered in a veneer of readiness, and their resolve melted away. He spoke to the two groups for less than a minute before both were ready to end hostilities and submit to the officers in the hallway. Jameson came out of the quad with a peaceful smile stretched across his old young face.
"They're ready to comply, Captain," he said, his voice a gentle river.
That was when I felt it. It was like when someone hits a tuning fork, and you feel like you can feel those vibrations on your skin, in your teeth, and in your gray matter as they wash over you. This was like that, except it was more like gentle wind chimes or soft temple bells. I saw it wash over the others in the hallway, and a general atmosphere of calm permeated us all. Even the Captain, who had been ready to spit nails when Jameson had walked onto that quad, smiled and clapped the grandfatherly fellow on the shoulder as he admonished him for his efforts.
I saw Jameson later as he came out of the area next to the captain's office that held the snack machines and asked him what had happened out there?
Jameson smiled, "Oh, just years of know-how at work. It's all about knowing what to say and when. You'll pick it up too, brother."
I shook my head, my body wanting to smile and agree with him as his proximity made me feel at ease again.
"No, I mean the thing that happened when you walked into the hallway. I heard a kind of...chime?" I tried lamely. I couldn't properly describe the emotion because it wasn't something I had ever felt before. The others seemed to accept it, almost seemed to welcome the feeling of ease that wafted around Jameson like a fog. I, on the other hand, wanted some answers. I wasn't one to just accept things as they were, and I hoped this was something he was aware of, or I was about to sound very crazy to someone I respected.
Jameson smiled, chuckling a little in the face of my confusion.
"You're a little more pragmatic than the others I see. Yes, I suppose you could call it a tone. Since I was young, I've had it. A kind of aura that creates peaceful feelings in those around me. It's a gift I often use around here."
I was astonished, "You mean, you have this gift for bringing peace to those around you, and you use it in prison?"
He took a chip and chewed in speculative, as though thinking about how he would answer that question.
"When I was thirteen, I thought I might use this ability to become a diplomat or a politician. If I could bring peace to those around me, I could be an asset to those in trying situations. I soon realized, though, that positions like that were out of my reach without a rich family to back me. I thought about training to be an actor, someone who could affect change just by the nature of celebrity. That was another path that was closed to me, however. The climate at that time was no kind to Asian Immigrants, even those not hailing from Japan. I then considered the Army, maybe I could do some good as an officer, and someone with my skill set could be useful on the battlefield. The Vietnam war was raging, and it was far better to enlist than to be drafted. I joined, served my time, but I never made it onto the battlefield. Instead, I was sent to a navy vessel and told to cook, something I was good at. I slung hash for the next eight years and retired with a pension and an unfulfilled ideal."
As he told his tale, I could almost imagine the younger man he had been. He had been full of ideas and hopes, just like me, and he felt dissatisfied by the world at large. He had a talent, but the world didn't see fit to use that talent. Sometimes, it seems like the world makes things harder for itself.
"I confided in an officer while aboard the USS Copeland that I had a gift for making people calm. He laughed until I proved it by calming a group of tired flight man who were milling about the landing zone. They went from scowling and mumbling to smiling and going about their tasks with purpose within seconds of me having talked to them. He asked how this could be possible, and I told him about the strange aura I had held since childhood. However, the Officer told me that my best bet would be to keep this ability to myself. I would likely be thrown out as a loonie, or, worse, kept in a lab somewhere and experimented on if they believed me."
He sighed and seemed to stare off into space, reliving those glory days.
"So there I was, twenty-six, unemployed, and looking for the next place to use my talent. I considered a career in medicine, but I didn't have the memory or the stomach for it. I considered law enforcement, but my academy scores were never good enough to qualify. Corrections, on the other hand, decided that they would take me gladly. That was seventy-six, and a man with no family and an open schedule could find all the work he wanted with the department. I signed on with Stragview, and I've been here for nearly thirty years."
"Yeah," I cut in, "but why?"
Jameson looked across the yard, taking in the dorms and the chainlink and seeming to miss it already.
"Did you know that while I have been here, uses of force have declined by forty-five percent from the years previous to my hiring? When I am on shift, the need for physical force is at an all-time low. This prison sits on a nexus, son. I'm sure you've noticed some strange things around here?" he said, eyes twinkling a little in the moonlight.
Thinking back on it, I had indeed seen some strange things within the walls of Stragview, sometimes so unexplainable things.
"If my presence here can cause one officer to leave in his car as opposed to an ambulance, then my time here has been well spent. I do not consider my talents squandered here, quite the contrary. I think this is where they might be best served."
I always found that profound when I looked back on it.
I did before that night, at least.
Six months ago, Officer Jameson told me he was retiring.
I was on inside by that point, the Captain liked to have me on his yard team, and I was going to pick up his count slips when he gave me the good news.
"Next month will mark thirty years of service with the department. After thirty years, I think I might be ready for some much overdue rest."
I asked him how he meant to spend his retirement, and he told me about a piece of property he owned with a fish pond and a hunting lease. He intended to hunt, fish, care for his garden, and maybe even write his memoirs about his time in the war and his time with DOC. He seemed happy when he spoke of these things, and I was happy for him. He seemed pleased at the prospect of rest, and I wished him joy of his newfound freedom.
By the end of the month, he was gone, and we settled into life without Jameson at Stragview Prison.
When I arrived at work the next day, the change was immediate. The air around Stragview had always been heavy, the place seemed almost Lovecraftian at times, and an air of oppression seemed to roll in with the fog most mornings, but now it seemed different. It felt like it might rain at any minute, and it was the first time I had ever thought about just climbing back in my truck and driving home.
We used force that night.
It was the ugly kind of force that you use on desperate men.
His name was Daffin, and it all started because he was hungry. Officer Wilde stopped him on the way through the chow hall and told him to give up his extra tray. Inmate Daffin explained that he had paid for this extra tray, not uncommon in prison economics, but Wilde was hearing none of it. He snatched the tray and told Daffin to take his ass to his table and not treat him like some rookie.
Daffin responded by punching Officer Wilde in the face.
Officer Wilde responded by breaking his jaw and nearly kicking off the first chow hall riot I had ever seen. We got them calmed down, and Daffin went to the infirmary while Wilde went home. I had seen violence on the compound before, but this was the closest I had ever seen it to coming off the rails. Tensions remained high for the rest of the night, but I would soon discover that the chow hall incident was just an overture.
The week after that, the outbreak started.
The previous week had been hard. Four stabbings, three fights, three assaults on staff, and two attempted suicides had made it the longest weekend I could remember. Daffin had gone to the hospital in the midst of it, his jaw rebreaking when he tried to break up one of the fights, and when they called me in on Monday, my first day off, I was not happy. I wasn't alone though, most of my shift was called in to lock down two of our open bay dorms. Daffin had come back from the hospital with something, and it had spread like wildfire in twelve hours. We were never sure if it was flu or what, but it made them cough and snot and acted more like pneumonia than anything.
After the fifth inmate had to be rushed to the hospital, they put a third dorm on lockdown.
After the first death, they put nearly all the dorms on lockdown.
The only two dorms not on lockdown by the end of the month were H and F, and only because they were under too high a level of security to get close to the infected inmates. They became responsible for cooking the meals, packed in styrofoam, and trucked down to the dorm. These were men with no experience in the kitchen, and as the quality of the food began to slip, the quarantine dorms began to make more and more noise. We were living in a powder keg, and a single spark would be all it would take to blow us all to kingdom come.
That spark came on the night of the Riot.
I had just got on shift when the call about the fight came down. Two officers from the previous shift were sent to help the dorm officer quell the disturbance, and after I got my equipment, I headed that way to see if they needed help. When the sirens went off, I knew something bad had gone down. I could see the doors of the dorm, and the Inmates were pressed against them as the mag locks held them in place. The officer in the station had been quick enough to engage the locks, and I could see Creest glancing over his shoulder as he shunted an inmate away from the dorm. You could hear that blatting siren from halfway across the world, so when we got the word that F dorm was also in an uproar, we weren't surprised.
When they came boiling out of the side door like angry cockroaches, that did surprise us a little.
We'd been suited up for breaching, preparing to enter the H dorm, and rescue a wounded officer. The six of us were preparing to breach the side door when a mob of howling inmates came spilling out from down the lawn. We would later find out that they had gained access to the station somehow and taken the doors off lockdown, but at that moment, all we could do was fallback for the gate and try to quell the tide.
We spent the better part of the night there. The inmates would push to the gate, attempt to rush us and fall back after we put a few down. Killing isn't something you know you can do until you've done it. Our usual team, a six-man group that joked and laughed through weekly drills, were not toting empty guns tonight. Every weapon had lethal ammunition, and our goal seemed to be more than the usual "rescue the CO and quell the inmates" scenario.
We had put down another six when someone came to relieve another officer named Hardy and me.
The two of us were taken to the Warden's office, where he sat drinking tea as though this were any other day.
The Warden looked well put together for someone awake at three am. His pinstripe was immaculate, his salt and pepper hair was uniform, and his gold-rimmed glasses were polished to a high gloss. He smiled at us, wolfishly, as we entered, and I had a bad feeling that we were about to be called upon to do something sketchy. I didn't like the Warden much. I had only seen him a few times, and every time he had made my stomach hurt. During my interview, as the Assistant Warden and the Captain of my prospective shift had asked me questions, he had just sat there, staring at me. His eyes were predatory, calculating, and it was easy to imagine that he could see right through you. He had interrupted the Assistant Warden mid-question to tell him that I had the job, and it had taken everything in my power to reach across and shake that hand.
Now, I wish I'd never taken this job.
"I need you, boys, to go on a little errand for me," he said, glancing over the rim of his cup like a mischievous cat.
I almost fancied that his eyes changed as he spoke.
He gave us directions and sent us out in a state van. As I rode shotgun, I wasn't happy about what we'd been told to do. The Warden wanted us to go to the address and pick up a CO who could help with our current situation. The CO in question was known to all of us. He had been on our shift last month.
"The general tremors around the compound have changed drastically since he left. We need a man of his… "Talents" back at work where he belongs."
We were going to roust Jameson from his much-deserved rest.
The whole trip, I felt very conflicted about this little errand. Jameson had earned the right to his rest, and we were going to drag him back to a place he had only recently escaped. Sometimes I joked with certain inmates that I had another twenty-seven years before my release date, that I was in a sense doing a thirty years stent, but at the end of my time, would they be free to pull me back too? I didn't like the idea of that.
We pulled up in front of his house around three am and found him waiting on the front porch. He had put on his uniform, his hair scooped back into its typical warrior's knot, and he looked utterly at peace. I could feel his tone when I climbed out of the van, a calming breeze that blew across my face, but as we approached, I began to feel a strangeness amongst the notes, a discord that pervaded the tone. He was presenting it for us but was far from committed to the feeling.
"Sergeant Hardy, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company so early in the morning?"
Harding paused for a moment but pressed on.
"I assume that you know, dressed as you are. I think you were waiting for us."
Jameson smiled placidly.
"Maybe. Maybe I woke up and sensed that my gifts were needed. Regardless, I am ready."
He sat in the back, and I chose to sit with him as Hardy drove. I felt less and less sure about this errand the longer it went on, and it almost felt like we were escorting this man to his incarceration, if not execution. He sat, smiling, looking straight ahead as Hardy drove, and I found myself staring at him with ill-ease. He turned his smiling eyes to me, and my unease deepened.
He looked like a man whose mind is at peace with death.
"What's on your mind, son?" he asked.
I shook my head, "I just...I don't feel good about what we're doing. It feels wrong. It feels…"
Suddenly I was assaulted by his calming aura, and it washed over me like a warm bath.
"All will be fine. All is as it should be."
He gripped my hand and squeezed, and I felt at peace all the way back to the compound.
That was when we saw the national guard vehicles. They had finally arrived, it seemed, and as they geared up to move in, we rolled through the front gate onto the compound. We took Jameson in through the front gate and made our way to Center Gate. Jameson floated between us, the picture of composure, but those jangles were still present amongst the calm. We led him, Hardy, and I on either side of him, but it was he who truly led us.
When we approached the line at the gate, the Captain nodded at Jameson.
His look was full of something, but at the time, I couldn't place it.
Jameson patted his shoulder and stepped towards the mass of inmates keeping a muddled parameter near the gate, just outside of shotgun range.
"Jameson, what are you doing?" I called out, stepping towards him, "They'll tear you apart."
The Captain stopped me with an outstretched hand, "Let him work. This ain't his first rodeo."
The inmates noticed him and began to move towards him like a swarm of angry bees. He didn't falter in his course, didn't waver, and as they neared, I felt him reach out with that odd tone and give them the full brunt of his power. They charged him, raising clubs and shanks, but staggered as they came within ten feet of the man. They began to sway, began to fall, and as I watched, they all fell to their faces in the grass and placed their hands behind their back. They fell like cordwood, weapons falling from limp fingers, as they lay, smiling, on the grass in placid compliance.
It was at that moment that I understood the terrifying extent of Jameson's power. It was then that I understood why he had never been allowed to be a General, a Politician, a Diplomat, or anything more than a minder of the dregs of society. Had Jameson been a very different man, he could have used his gifts to devastating effect.
There was no way that a just and loving God would have allowed a man to be so tested with corruption.
We spent the next hour putting zip cuffs on inmates as Jameson moved across the compound. We couldn't take him into the dorms, of course. We couldn't risk such a weapon in the confined spaces behind the doors, but it seemed we didn't have to. Just his presence on the yard quelled much of the riot, and we began to receive reports of inmates throwing down their weapons and returning to compliance. As Jameson walked, order began to reassert itself. As Jameson went, so went peace in his wake.
He saved us from a riot that would have taken days to quell.
He saved hundreds of lives, and how did we repay him?
We were on the Rec Yard when it happened. They had cuffed them and were processing them. They identified the instigators, threw the others back into their dorm, and the light of dawn was just beginning to peek above the horizon. The Warden had come out with an armed escort and was overseeing the operation with the Captain, Hardy, and myself. Jameson was continuing to calm the situation, his tone stretching out like an ocean wave, and when he abled over to our group, he was haggard but smiling. It had taken something out of him to use it, and he looked ready to drop.
The Warden extended a hand to Jameson, and he looked as hesitant to shake it as I had been.
"Excellent work, Jameson. We've missed your little gift around here. How would you like to come back? I can see that you're promoted, moved to the admin shift, and put you up somewhere cozy."
Jameson smiled but shook his head, "I don't think so, sir. I'm willing to lend my gifts, now and again, but I've found that I like my retirement."
The Warden feigned a look of regret, "I was afraid you'd say that."
The stock of the Captain's shotgun cracked into the back of Jameson's head, and he fell face-first onto the grass.
I had my gun slung around and pointing at them before I could stop myself. The Captain swung the barrel of his shotgun around to cover me, but the Warden shoved it away and stepped between my gun barrel and the group. His eyes did that funny thing again, where they shifted to something almost catlike. He didn't look angry or afraid but was, instead, curious as he studied me with his strange eyes.
"You know what must be done. If he leaves the compound, it will descend back into chaos. So he mustn't be allowed to leave. You know this is the best thing for the compound. A little sacrifice for the good of us all."
I pointed the gun at them, wanting to pull the trigger. If I did, though, I'd have to pull the trigger on myself next. I'd known what was happening here, hadn't I felt it from the beginning? The gun held firm for a count of ten, the Warden standing between us, the Captain looking nervous, Hardy's eyes darting for the best course of escape, but eventually, I dropped my gun barrel and let it hang underneath my arm.
The Warden said to grab him, and so we did.
We took him through the Rec Office and down a flight of stairs I had never seen before.
We came to a door, a big ugly metal thing that opened onto a shadowy corridor that seemed to stretch into the earth. It was lit by small islands of light created by overhead bulbs in small round cages. As we walked, a chorus of the damned yelled from the doors. They wanted food, wanted freedom, wanted death, and wanted to see the sun. We ignored them, and many shrank away when they saw the Warden was with us.
We deposited Jameson into one of these cells. He lay on the floor, breathing shallowly, and I paused in the door to look at him. Were we really about to do this? Were we really going to doom a man to spend his days in this dark hole? Would his chorus even reach out from the hellish place?
As the door swung shut, I both hoped it would and prayed it would not.
That was a month ago, and the compound has never been more peaceful. In the wake of the riot, we returned to some semblance of peace, much like the days before the quarantine, but I know the truth. I've thought about quitting a thousand times, thought about putting a gun in my mouth and ending it all, but I always worry that I too might wake up in that lightless void beneath the prison.
So let us never forget Officer Jameson, the savior of our compound.
May his death come swiftly and release him from the hell he now resides in.
May it be enough to grant him the freedom he deserves.
submitted by Erutious to SignalHorrorFiction [link] [comments]


2020.10.21 20:37 Erutious The Kindness

We are monsters. We have taken something beautiful and turned it ugly. We have sacrificed a good man, and for what? Peace? Ha! If it comes at the expense of that one man, then it is a dark and terrible thing, peace.
His name was Eric Jameson, and he saved Stragview from the Riots.
Eric Jameson, Officer Jameson, was probably the nicest guy you'll ever meet. He was a career officer, who had forgotten more about corrections than most of us ever knew, and his appearance was vaguely Chinese or maybe Korean. He always wore his hair in one of those buns, his windows peek, never touching the thick gray main on the top, and he always reminded me of the uncle from the Avatar show in the way he spoke and carried himself.
I got to work with him on my first night flying solo on the compound, and it was an experience I wouldn't trade for anything. When you walked with him through the quad, it was as though the clouds lifted away from the sun. Inmates smiled more, officers were less surly, and everyone was just in a better mood when Jameson was around. He was personable as well, remembering inmates' names and asking about their troubles. He passed five times as much time in the quads as any other officer I'd ever known, a practice that would have gotten anyone, but Jameson dragged into the Investigators office under speculation of Inmate collusion. Jameson did the same to his fellow officers, too, and I never saw anyone snap or take a surly tone with Jameson. The way he walked amongst his charges was utterly devoid of fear or nerves. He walked through the quad as though it were his home, and the inmates were no more than his neighbors whom he was greeting on his way home from work.
This was not a skill he had gained from years of experience, though.
Jameson had a way about him that was undeniable.
Jameson had a vibration about him that broke up tension.
It was an ability I got to see first hand.
About a year after I started with the department, we had a significant disturbance in F dorm. What had started as a skirmish between rival gangs had devolved into a fight that threatened to bathe the whole quad in blood. It all came to a head at lunchtime, and the two gangs had taken advantage of the other inmates leaving. We were poised to roll into the dorm with force, blood and weapons already present in the quad when Jameson stepped past the Captain and walked inside. Twenty or so men looked at him, their faces covered in a veneer of readiness, and their resolve melted away. He spoke to the two groups for less than a minute before both were ready to end hostilities and submit to the officers in the hallway. Jameson came out of the quad with a peaceful smile stretched across his old young face.
"They're ready to comply, Captain," he said, his voice a gentle river.
That was when I felt it. It was like when someone hits a tuning fork, and you feel like you can feel those vibrations on your skin, in your teeth, and in your gray matter as they wash over you. This was like that, except it was more like gentle wind chimes or soft temple bells. I saw it wash over the others in the hallway, and a general atmosphere of calm permeated us all. Even the Captain, who had been ready to spit nails when Jameson had walked onto that quad, smiled and clapped the grandfatherly fellow on the shoulder as he admonished him for his efforts.
I saw Jameson later as he came out of the area next to the captain's office that held the snack machines and asked him what had happened out there?
Jameson smiled, "Oh, just years of know-how at work. It's all about knowing what to say and when. You'll pick it up too, brother."
I shook my head, my body wanting to smile and agree with him as his proximity made me feel at ease again.
"No, I mean the thing that happened when you walked into the hallway. I heard a kind of...chime?" I tried lamely. I couldn't properly describe the emotion because it wasn't something I had ever felt before. The others seemed to accept it, almost seemed to welcome the feeling of ease that wafted around Jameson like a fog. I, on the other hand, wanted some answers. I wasn't one to just accept things as they were, and I hoped this was something he was aware of, or I was about to sound very crazy to someone I respected.
Jameson smiled, chuckling a little in the face of my confusion.
"You're a little more pragmatic than the others I see. Yes, I suppose you could call it a tone. Since I was young, I've had it. A kind of aura that creates peaceful feelings in those around me. It's a gift I often use around here."
I was astonished, "You mean, you have this gift for bringing peace to those around you, and you use it in prison?"
He took a chip and chewed in speculative, as though thinking about how he would answer that question.
"When I was thirteen, I thought I might use this ability to become a diplomat or a politician. If I could bring peace to those around me, I could be an asset to those in trying situations. I soon realized, though, that positions like that were out of my reach without a rich family to back me. I thought about training to be an actor, someone who could affect change just by the nature of celebrity. That was another path that was closed to me, however. The climate at that time was no kind to Asian Immigrants, even those not hailing from Japan. I then considered the Army, maybe I could do some good as an officer, and someone with my skill set could be useful on the battlefield. The Vietnam war was raging, and it was far better to enlist than to be drafted. I joined, served my time, but I never made it onto the battlefield. Instead, I was sent to a navy vessel and told to cook, something I was good at. I slung hash for the next eight years and retired with a pension and an unfulfilled ideal."
As he told his tale, I could almost imagine the younger man he had been. He had been full of ideas and hopes, just like me, and he felt dissatisfied by the world at large. He had a talent, but the world didn't see fit to use that talent. Sometimes, it seems like the world makes things harder for itself.
"I confided in an officer while aboard the USS Copeland that I had a gift for making people calm. He laughed until I proved it by calming a group of tired flight man who were milling about the landing zone. They went from scowling and mumbling to smiling and going about their tasks with purpose within seconds of me having talked to them. He asked how this could be possible, and I told him about the strange aura I had held since childhood. However, the Officer told me that my best bet would be to keep this ability to myself. I would likely be thrown out as a loonie, or, worse, kept in a lab somewhere and experimented on if they believed me."
He sighed and seemed to stare off into space, reliving those glory days.
"So there I was, twenty-six, unemployed, and looking for the next place to use my talent. I considered a career in medicine, but I didn't have the memory or the stomach for it. I considered law enforcement, but my academy scores were never good enough to qualify. Corrections, on the other hand, decided that they would take me gladly. That was seventy-six, and a man with no family and an open schedule could find all the work he wanted with the department. I signed on with Stragview, and I've been here for nearly thirty years."
"Yeah," I cut in, "but why?"
Jameson looked across the yard, taking in the dorms and the chainlink and seeming to miss it already.
"Did you know that while I have been here, uses of force have declined by forty-five percent from the years previous to my hiring? When I am on shift, the need for physical force is at an all-time low. This prison sits on a nexus, son. I'm sure you've noticed some strange things around here?" he said, eyes twinkling a little in the moonlight.
Thinking back on it, I had indeed seen some strange things within the walls of Stragview, sometimes so unexplainable things.
"If my presence here can cause one officer to leave in his car as opposed to an ambulance, then my time here has been well spent. I do not consider my talents squandered here, quite the contrary. I think this is where they might be best served."
I always found that profound when I looked back on it.
I did before that night, at least.
Six months ago, Officer Jameson told me he was retiring.
I was on inside by that point, the Captain liked to have me on his yard team, and I was going to pick up his count slips when he gave me the good news.
"Next month will mark thirty years of service with the department. After thirty years, I think I might be ready for some much overdue rest."
I asked him how he meant to spend his retirement, and he told me about a piece of property he owned with a fish pond and a hunting lease. He intended to hunt, fish, care for his garden, and maybe even write his memoirs about his time in the war and his time with DOC. He seemed happy when he spoke of these things, and I was happy for him. He seemed pleased at the prospect of rest, and I wished him joy of his newfound freedom.
By the end of the month, he was gone, and we settled into life without Jameson at Stragview Prison.
When I arrived at work the next day, the change was immediate. The air around Stragview had always been heavy, the place seemed almost Lovecraftian at times, and an air of oppression seemed to roll in with the fog most mornings, but now it seemed different. It felt like it might rain at any minute, and it was the first time I had ever thought about just climbing back in my truck and driving home.
We used force that night.
It was the ugly kind of force that you use on desperate men.
His name was Daffin, and it all started because he was hungry. Officer Wilde stopped him on the way through the chow hall and told him to give up his extra tray. Inmate Daffin explained that he had paid for this extra tray, not uncommon in prison economics, but Wilde was hearing none of it. He snatched the tray and told Daffin to take his ass to his table and not treat him like some rookie.
Daffin responded by punching Officer Wilde in the face.
Officer Wilde responded by breaking his jaw and nearly kicking off the first chow hall riot I had ever seen. We got them calmed down, and Daffin went to the infirmary while Wilde went home. I had seen violence on the compound before, but this was the closest I had ever seen it to coming off the rails. Tensions remained high for the rest of the night, but I would soon discover that the chow hall incident was just an overture.
The week after that, the outbreak started.
The previous week had been hard. Four stabbings, three fights, three assaults on staff, and two attempted suicides had made it the longest weekend I could remember. Daffin had gone to the hospital in the midst of it, his jaw rebreaking when he tried to break up one of the fights, and when they called me in on Monday, my first day off, I was not happy. I wasn't alone though, most of my shift was called in to lock down two of our open bay dorms. Daffin had come back from the hospital with something, and it had spread like wildfire in twelve hours. We were never sure if it was flu or what, but it made them cough and snot and acted more like pneumonia than anything.
After the fifth inmate had to be rushed to the hospital, they put a third dorm on lockdown.
After the first death, they put nearly all the dorms on lockdown.
The only two dorms not on lockdown by the end of the month were H and F, and only because they were under too high a level of security to get close to the infected inmates. They became responsible for cooking the meals, packed in styrofoam, and trucked down to the dorm. These were men with no experience in the kitchen, and as the quality of the food began to slip, the quarantine dorms began to make more and more noise. We were living in a powder keg, and a single spark would be all it would take to blow us all to kingdom come.
That spark came on the night of the Riot.
I had just got on shift when the call about the fight came down. Two officers from the previous shift were sent to help the dorm officer quell the disturbance, and after I got my equipment, I headed that way to see if they needed help. When the sirens went off, I knew something bad had gone down. I could see the doors of the dorm, and the Inmates were pressed against them as the mag locks held them in place. The officer in the station had been quick enough to engage the locks, and I could see Creest glancing over his shoulder as he shunted an inmate away from the dorm. You could hear that blatting siren from halfway across the world, so when we got the word that F dorm was also in an uproar, we weren't surprised.
When they came boiling out of the side door like angry cockroaches, that did surprise us a little.
We'd been suited up for breaching, preparing to enter the H dorm, and rescue a wounded officer. The six of us were preparing to breach the side door when a mob of howling inmates came spilling out from down the lawn. We would later find out that they had gained access to the station somehow and taken the doors off lockdown, but at that moment, all we could do was fallback for the gate and try to quell the tide.
We spent the better part of the night there. The inmates would push to the gate, attempt to rush us and fall back after we put a few down. Killing isn't something you know you can do until you've done it. Our usual team, a six-man group that joked and laughed through weekly drills, were not toting empty guns tonight. Every weapon had lethal ammunition, and our goal seemed to be more than the usual "rescue the CO and quell the inmates" scenario.
We had put down another six when someone came to relieve another officer named Hardy and me.
The two of us were taken to the Warden's office, where he sat drinking tea as though this were any other day.
The Warden looked well put together for someone awake at three am. His pinstripe was immaculate, his salt and pepper hair was uniform, and his gold-rimmed glasses were polished to a high gloss. He smiled at us, wolfishly, as we entered, and I had a bad feeling that we were about to be called upon to do something sketchy. I didn't like the Warden much. I had only seen him a few times, and every time he had made my stomach hurt. During my interview, as the Assistant Warden and the Captain of my prospective shift had asked me questions, he had just sat there, staring at me. His eyes were predatory, calculating, and it was easy to imagine that he could see right through you. He had interrupted the Assistant Warden mid-question to tell him that I had the job, and it had taken everything in my power to reach across and shake that hand.
Now, I wish I'd never taken this job.
"I need you, boys, to go on a little errand for me," he said, glancing over the rim of his cup like a mischievous cat.
I almost fancied that his eyes changed as he spoke.
He gave us directions and sent us out in a state van. As I rode shotgun, I wasn't happy about what we'd been told to do. The Warden wanted us to go to the address and pick up a CO who could help with our current situation. The CO in question was known to all of us. He had been on our shift last month.
"The general tremors around the compound have changed drastically since he left. We need a man of his… "Talents" back at work where he belongs."
We were going to roust Jameson from his much-deserved rest.
The whole trip, I felt very conflicted about this little errand. Jameson had earned the right to his rest, and we were going to drag him back to a place he had only recently escaped. Sometimes I joked with certain inmates that I had another twenty-seven years before my release date, that I was in a sense doing a thirty years stent, but at the end of my time, would they be free to pull me back too? I didn't like the idea of that.
We pulled up in front of his house around three am and found him waiting on the front porch. He had put on his uniform, his hair scooped back into its typical warrior's knot, and he looked utterly at peace. I could feel his tone when I climbed out of the van, a calming breeze that blew across my face, but as we approached, I began to feel a strangeness amongst the notes, a discord that pervaded the tone. He was presenting it for us but was far from committed to the feeling.
"Sergeant Hardy, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company so early in the morning?"
Harding paused for a moment but pressed on.
"I assume that you know, dressed as you are. I think you were waiting for us."
Jameson smiled placidly.
"Maybe. Maybe I woke up and sensed that my gifts were needed. Regardless, I am ready."
He sat in the back, and I chose to sit with him as Hardy drove. I felt less and less sure about this errand the longer it went on, and it almost felt like we were escorting this man to his incarceration, if not execution. He sat, smiling, looking straight ahead as Hardy drove, and I found myself staring at him with ill-ease. He turned his smiling eyes to me, and my unease deepened.
He looked like a man whose mind is at peace with death.
"What's on your mind, son?" he asked.
I shook my head, "I just...I don't feel good about what we're doing. It feels wrong. It feels…"
Suddenly I was assaulted by his calming aura, and it washed over me like a warm bath.
"All will be fine. All is as it should be."
He gripped my hand and squeezed, and I felt at peace all the way back to the compound.
That was when we saw the national guard vehicles. They had finally arrived, it seemed, and as they geared up to move in, we rolled through the front gate onto the compound. We took Jameson in through the front gate and made our way to Center Gate. Jameson floated between us, the picture of composure, but those jangles were still present amongst the calm. We led him, Hardy, and I on either side of him, but it was he who truly led us.
When we approached the line at the gate, the Captain nodded at Jameson.
His look was full of something, but at the time, I couldn't place it.
Jameson patted his shoulder and stepped towards the mass of inmates keeping a muddled parameter near the gate, just outside of shotgun range.
"Jameson, what are you doing?" I called out, stepping towards him, "They'll tear you apart."
The Captain stopped me with an outstretched hand, "Let him work. This ain't his first rodeo."
The inmates noticed him and began to move towards him like a swarm of angry bees. He didn't falter in his course, didn't waver, and as they neared, I felt him reach out with that odd tone and give them the full brunt of his power. They charged him, raising clubs and shanks, but staggered as they came within ten feet of the man. They began to sway, began to fall, and as I watched, they all fell to their faces in the grass and placed their hands behind their back. They fell like cordwood, weapons falling from limp fingers, as they lay, smiling, on the grass in placid compliance.
It was at that moment that I understood the terrifying extent of Jameson's power. It was then that I understood why he had never been allowed to be a General, a Politician, a Diplomat, or anything more than a minder of the dregs of society. Had Jameson been a very different man, he could have used his gifts to devastating effect.
There was no way that a just and loving God would have allowed a man to be so tested with corruption.
We spent the next hour putting zip cuffs on inmates as Jameson moved across the compound. We couldn't take him into the dorms, of course. We couldn't risk such a weapon in the confined spaces behind the doors, but it seemed we didn't have to. Just his presence on the yard quelled much of the riot, and we began to receive reports of inmates throwing down their weapons and returning to compliance. As Jameson walked, order began to reassert itself. As Jameson went, so went peace in his wake.
He saved us from a riot that would have taken days to quell.
He saved hundreds of lives, and how did we repay him?
We were on the Rec Yard when it happened. They had cuffed them and were processing them. They identified the instigators, threw the others back into their dorm, and the light of dawn was just beginning to peek above the horizon. The Warden had come out with an armed escort and was overseeing the operation with the Captain, Hardy, and myself. Jameson was continuing to calm the situation, his tone stretching out like an ocean wave, and when he abled over to our group, he was haggard but smiling. It had taken something out of him to use it, and he looked ready to drop.
The Warden extended a hand to Jameson, and he looked as hesitant to shake it as I had been.
"Excellent work, Jameson. We've missed your little gift around here. How would you like to come back? I can see that you're promoted, moved to the admin shift, and put you up somewhere cozy."
Jameson smiled but shook his head, "I don't think so, sir. I'm willing to lend my gifts, now and again, but I've found that I like my retirement."
The Warden feigned a look of regret, "I was afraid you'd say that."
The stock of the Captain's shotgun cracked into the back of Jameson's head, and he fell face-first onto the grass.
I had my gun slung around and pointing at them before I could stop myself. The Captain swung the barrel of his shotgun around to cover me, but the Warden shoved it away and stepped between my gun barrel and the group. His eyes did that funny thing again, where they shifted to something almost catlike. He didn't look angry or afraid but was, instead, curious as he studied me with his strange eyes.
"You know what must be done. If he leaves the compound, it will descend back into chaos. So he mustn't be allowed to leave. You know this is the best thing for the compound. A little sacrifice for the good of us all."
I pointed the gun at them, wanting to pull the trigger. If I did, though, I'd have to pull the trigger on myself next. I'd known what was happening here, hadn't I felt it from the beginning? The gun held firm for a count of ten, the Warden standing between us, the Captain looking nervous, Hardy's eyes darting for the best course of escape, but eventually, I dropped my gun barrel and let it hang underneath my arm.
The Warden said to grab him, and so we did.
We took him through the Rec Office and down a flight of stairs I had never seen before.
We came to a door, a big ugly metal thing that opened onto a shadowy corridor that seemed to stretch into the earth. It was lit by small islands of light created by overhead bulbs in small round cages. As we walked, a chorus of the damned yelled from the doors. They wanted food, wanted freedom, wanted death, and wanted to see the sun. We ignored them, and many shrank away when they saw the Warden was with us.
We deposited Jameson into one of these cells. He lay on the floor, breathing shallowly, and I paused in the door to look at him. Were we really about to do this? Were we really going to doom a man to spend his days in this dark hole? Would his chorus even reach out from the hellish place?
As the door swung shut, I both hoped it would and prayed it would not.
That was a month ago, and the compound has never been more peaceful. In the wake of the riot, we returned to some semblance of peace, much like the days before the quarantine, but I know the truth. I've thought about quitting a thousand times, thought about putting a gun in my mouth and ending it all, but I always worry that I too might wake up in that lightless void beneath the prison.
So let us never forget Officer Jameson, the savior of our compound.
May his death come swiftly and release him from the hell he now resides in.
May it be enough to grant him the freedom he deserves.
submitted by Erutious to nosleep [link] [comments]


2020.10.21 20:36 Erutious The Kindness

We are monsters. We have taken something beautiful and turned it ugly. We have sacrificed a good man, and for what? Peace? Ha! If it comes at the expense of that one man, then it is a dark and terrible thing, peace.
His name was Eric Jameson, and he saved Stragview from the Riots.
Eric Jameson, Officer Jameson, was probably the nicest guy you'll ever meet. He was a career officer, who had forgotten more about corrections than most of us ever knew, and his appearance was vaguely Chinese or maybe Korean. He always wore his hair in one of those buns, his windows peek, never touching the thick gray main on the top, and he always reminded me of the uncle from the Avatar show in the way he spoke and carried himself.
I got to work with him on my first night flying solo on the compound, and it was an experience I wouldn't trade for anything. When you walked with him through the quad, it was as though the clouds lifted away from the sun. Inmates smiled more, officers were less surly, and everyone was just in a better mood when Jameson was around. He was personable as well, remembering inmates' names and asking about their troubles. He passed five times as much time in the quads as any other officer I'd ever known, a practice that would have gotten anyone, but Jameson dragged into the Investigators office under speculation of Inmate collusion. Jameson did the same to his fellow officers, too, and I never saw anyone snap or take a surly tone with Jameson. The way he walked amongst his charges was utterly devoid of fear or nerves. He walked through the quad as though it were his home, and the inmates were no more than his neighbors whom he was greeting on his way home from work.
This was not a skill he had gained from years of experience, though.
Jameson had a way about him that was undeniable.
Jameson had a vibration about him that broke up tension.
It was an ability I got to see first hand.
About a year after I started with the department, we had a significant disturbance in F dorm. What had started as a skirmish between rival gangs had devolved into a fight that threatened to bathe the whole quad in blood. It all came to a head at lunchtime, and the two gangs had taken advantage of the other inmates leaving. We were poised to roll into the dorm with force, blood and weapons already present in the quad when Jameson stepped past the Captain and walked inside. Twenty or so men looked at him, their faces covered in a veneer of readiness, and their resolve melted away. He spoke to the two groups for less than a minute before both were ready to end hostilities and submit to the officers in the hallway. Jameson came out of the quad with a peaceful smile stretched across his old young face.
"They're ready to comply, Captain," he said, his voice a gentle river.
That was when I felt it. It was like when someone hits a tuning fork, and you feel like you can feel those vibrations on your skin, in your teeth, and in your gray matter as they wash over you. This was like that, except it was more like gentle wind chimes or soft temple bells. I saw it wash over the others in the hallway, and a general atmosphere of calm permeated us all. Even the Captain, who had been ready to spit nails when Jameson had walked onto that quad, smiled and clapped the grandfatherly fellow on the shoulder as he admonished him for his efforts.
I saw Jameson later as he came out of the area next to the captain's office that held the snack machines and asked him what had happened out there?
Jameson smiled, "Oh, just years of know-how at work. It's all about knowing what to say and when. You'll pick it up too, brother."
I shook my head, my body wanting to smile and agree with him as his proximity made me feel at ease again.
"No, I mean the thing that happened when you walked into the hallway. I heard a kind of...chime?" I tried lamely. I couldn't properly describe the emotion because it wasn't something I had ever felt before. The others seemed to accept it, almost seemed to welcome the feeling of ease that wafted around Jameson like a fog. I, on the other hand, wanted some answers. I wasn't one to just accept things as they were, and I hoped this was something he was aware of, or I was about to sound very crazy to someone I respected.
Jameson smiled, chuckling a little in the face of my confusion.
"You're a little more pragmatic than the others I see. Yes, I suppose you could call it a tone. Since I was young, I've had it. A kind of aura that creates peaceful feelings in those around me. It's a gift I often use around here."
I was astonished, "You mean, you have this gift for bringing peace to those around you, and you use it in prison?"
He took a chip and chewed in speculative, as though thinking about how he would answer that question.
"When I was thirteen, I thought I might use this ability to become a diplomat or a politician. If I could bring peace to those around me, I could be an asset to those in trying situations. I soon realized, though, that positions like that were out of my reach without a rich family to back me. I thought about training to be an actor, someone who could affect change just by the nature of celebrity. That was another path that was closed to me, however. The climate at that time was no kind to Asian Immigrants, even those not hailing from Japan. I then considered the Army, maybe I could do some good as an officer, and someone with my skill set could be useful on the battlefield. The Vietnam war was raging, and it was far better to enlist than to be drafted. I joined, served my time, but I never made it onto the battlefield. Instead, I was sent to a navy vessel and told to cook, something I was good at. I slung hash for the next eight years and retired with a pension and an unfulfilled ideal."
As he told his tale, I could almost imagine the younger man he had been. He had been full of ideas and hopes, just like me, and he felt dissatisfied by the world at large. He had a talent, but the world didn't see fit to use that talent. Sometimes, it seems like the world makes things harder for itself.
"I confided in an officer while aboard the USS Copeland that I had a gift for making people calm. He laughed until I proved it by calming a group of tired flight man who were milling about the landing zone. They went from scowling and mumbling to smiling and going about their tasks with purpose within seconds of me having talked to them. He asked how this could be possible, and I told him about the strange aura I had held since childhood. However, the Officer told me that my best bet would be to keep this ability to myself. I would likely be thrown out as a loonie, or, worse, kept in a lab somewhere and experimented on if they believed me."
He sighed and seemed to stare off into space, reliving those glory days.
"So there I was, twenty-six, unemployed, and looking for the next place to use my talent. I considered a career in medicine, but I didn't have the memory or the stomach for it. I considered law enforcement, but my academy scores were never good enough to qualify. Corrections, on the other hand, decided that they would take me gladly. That was seventy-six, and a man with no family and an open schedule could find all the work he wanted with the department. I signed on with Stragview, and I've been here for nearly thirty years."
"Yeah," I cut in, "but why?"
Jameson looked across the yard, taking in the dorms and the chainlink and seeming to miss it already.
"Did you know that while I have been here, uses of force have declined by forty-five percent from the years previous to my hiring? When I am on shift, the need for physical force is at an all-time low. This prison sits on a nexus, son. I'm sure you've noticed some strange things around here?" he said, eyes twinkling a little in the moonlight.
Thinking back on it, I had indeed seen some strange things within the walls of Stragview, sometimes so unexplainable things.
"If my presence here can cause one officer to leave in his car as opposed to an ambulance, then my time here has been well spent. I do not consider my talents squandered here, quite the contrary. I think this is where they might be best served."
I always found that profound when I looked back on it.
I did before that night, at least.
Six months ago, Officer Jameson told me he was retiring.
I was on inside by that point, the Captain liked to have me on his yard team, and I was going to pick up his count slips when he gave me the good news.
"Next month will mark thirty years of service with the department. After thirty years, I think I might be ready for some much overdue rest."
I asked him how he meant to spend his retirement, and he told me about a piece of property he owned with a fish pond and a hunting lease. He intended to hunt, fish, care for his garden, and maybe even write his memoirs about his time in the war and his time with DOC. He seemed happy when he spoke of these things, and I was happy for him. He seemed pleased at the prospect of rest, and I wished him joy of his newfound freedom.
By the end of the month, he was gone, and we settled into life without Jameson at Stragview Prison.
When I arrived at work the next day, the change was immediate. The air around Stragview had always been heavy, the place seemed almost Lovecraftian at times, and an air of oppression seemed to roll in with the fog most mornings, but now it seemed different. It felt like it might rain at any minute, and it was the first time I had ever thought about just climbing back in my truck and driving home.
We used force that night.
It was the ugly kind of force that you use on desperate men.
His name was Daffin, and it all started because he was hungry. Officer Wilde stopped him on the way through the chow hall and told him to give up his extra tray. Inmate Daffin explained that he had paid for this extra tray, not uncommon in prison economics, but Wilde was hearing none of it. He snatched the tray and told Daffin to take his ass to his table and not treat him like some rookie.
Daffin responded by punching Officer Wilde in the face.
Officer Wilde responded by breaking his jaw and nearly kicking off the first chow hall riot I had ever seen. We got them calmed down, and Daffin went to the infirmary while Wilde went home. I had seen violence on the compound before, but this was the closest I had ever seen it to coming off the rails. Tensions remained high for the rest of the night, but I would soon discover that the chow hall incident was just an overture.
The week after that, the outbreak started.
The previous week had been hard. Four stabbings, three fights, three assaults on staff, and two attempted suicides had made it the longest weekend I could remember. Daffin had gone to the hospital in the midst of it, his jaw rebreaking when he tried to break up one of the fights, and when they called me in on Monday, my first day off, I was not happy. I wasn't alone though, most of my shift was called in to lock down two of our open bay dorms. Daffin had come back from the hospital with something, and it had spread like wildfire in twelve hours. We were never sure if it was flu or what, but it made them cough and snot and acted more like pneumonia than anything.
After the fifth inmate had to be rushed to the hospital, they put a third dorm on lockdown.
After the first death, they put nearly all the dorms on lockdown.
The only two dorms not on lockdown by the end of the month were H and F, and only because they were under too high a level of security to get close to the infected inmates. They became responsible for cooking the meals, packed in styrofoam, and trucked down to the dorm. These were men with no experience in the kitchen, and as the quality of the food began to slip, the quarantine dorms began to make more and more noise. We were living in a powder keg, and a single spark would be all it would take to blow us all to kingdom come.
That spark came on the night of the Riot.
I had just got on shift when the call about the fight came down. Two officers from the previous shift were sent to help the dorm officer quell the disturbance, and after I got my equipment, I headed that way to see if they needed help. When the sirens went off, I knew something bad had gone down. I could see the doors of the dorm, and the Inmates were pressed against them as the mag locks held them in place. The officer in the station had been quick enough to engage the locks, and I could see Creest glancing over his shoulder as he shunted an inmate away from the dorm. You could hear that blatting siren from halfway across the world, so when we got the word that F dorm was also in an uproar, we weren't surprised.
When they came boiling out of the side door like angry cockroaches, that did surprise us a little.
We'd been suited up for breaching, preparing to enter the H dorm, and rescue a wounded officer. The six of us were preparing to breach the side door when a mob of howling inmates came spilling out from down the lawn. We would later find out that they had gained access to the station somehow and taken the doors off lockdown, but at that moment, all we could do was fallback for the gate and try to quell the tide.
We spent the better part of the night there. The inmates would push to the gate, attempt to rush us and fall back after we put a few down. Killing isn't something you know you can do until you've done it. Our usual team, a six-man group that joked and laughed through weekly drills, were not toting empty guns tonight. Every weapon had lethal ammunition, and our goal seemed to be more than the usual "rescue the CO and quell the inmates" scenario.
We had put down another six when someone came to relieve another officer named Hardy and me.
The two of us were taken to the Warden's office, where he sat drinking tea as though this were any other day.
The Warden looked well put together for someone awake at three am. His pinstripe was immaculate, his salt and pepper hair was uniform, and his gold-rimmed glasses were polished to a high gloss. He smiled at us, wolfishly, as we entered, and I had a bad feeling that we were about to be called upon to do something sketchy. I didn't like the Warden much. I had only seen him a few times, and every time he had made my stomach hurt. During my interview, as the Assistant Warden and the Captain of my prospective shift had asked me questions, he had just sat there, staring at me. His eyes were predatory, calculating, and it was easy to imagine that he could see right through you. He had interrupted the Assistant Warden mid-question to tell him that I had the job, and it had taken everything in my power to reach across and shake that hand.
Now, I wish I'd never taken this job.
"I need you, boys, to go on a little errand for me," he said, glancing over the rim of his cup like a mischievous cat.
I almost fancied that his eyes changed as he spoke.
He gave us directions and sent us out in a state van. As I rode shotgun, I wasn't happy about what we'd been told to do. The Warden wanted us to go to the address and pick up a CO who could help with our current situation. The CO in question was known to all of us. He had been on our shift last month.
"The general tremors around the compound have changed drastically since he left. We need a man of his… "Talents" back at work where he belongs."
We were going to roust Jameson from his much-deserved rest.
The whole trip, I felt very conflicted about this little errand. Jameson had earned the right to his rest, and we were going to drag him back to a place he had only recently escaped. Sometimes I joked with certain inmates that I had another twenty-seven years before my release date, that I was in a sense doing a thirty years stent, but at the end of my time, would they be free to pull me back too? I didn't like the idea of that.
We pulled up in front of his house around three am and found him waiting on the front porch. He had put on his uniform, his hair scooped back into its typical warrior's knot, and he looked utterly at peace. I could feel his tone when I climbed out of the van, a calming breeze that blew across my face, but as we approached, I began to feel a strangeness amongst the notes, a discord that pervaded the tone. He was presenting it for us but was far from committed to the feeling.
"Sergeant Hardy, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company so early in the morning?"
Harding paused for a moment but pressed on.
"I assume that you know, dressed as you are. I think you were waiting for us."
Jameson smiled placidly.
"Maybe. Maybe I woke up and sensed that my gifts were needed. Regardless, I am ready."
He sat in the back, and I chose to sit with him as Hardy drove. I felt less and less sure about this errand the longer it went on, and it almost felt like we were escorting this man to his incarceration, if not execution. He sat, smiling, looking straight ahead as Hardy drove, and I found myself staring at him with ill-ease. He turned his smiling eyes to me, and my unease deepened.
He looked like a man whose mind is at peace with death.
"What's on your mind, son?" he asked.
I shook my head, "I just...I don't feel good about what we're doing. It feels wrong. It feels…"
Suddenly I was assaulted by his calming aura, and it washed over me like a warm bath.
"All will be fine. All is as it should be."
He gripped my hand and squeezed, and I felt at peace all the way back to the compound.
That was when we saw the national guard vehicles. They had finally arrived, it seemed, and as they geared up to move in, we rolled through the front gate onto the compound. We took Jameson in through the front gate and made our way to Center Gate. Jameson floated between us, the picture of composure, but those jangles were still present amongst the calm. We led him, Hardy, and I on either side of him, but it was he who truly led us.
When we approached the line at the gate, the Captain nodded at Jameson.
His look was full of something, but at the time, I couldn't place it.
Jameson patted his shoulder and stepped towards the mass of inmates keeping a muddled parameter near the gate, just outside of shotgun range.
"Jameson, what are you doing?" I called out, stepping towards him, "They'll tear you apart."
The Captain stopped me with an outstretched hand, "Let him work. This ain't his first rodeo."
The inmates noticed him and began to move towards him like a swarm of angry bees. He didn't falter in his course, didn't waver, and as they neared, I felt him reach out with that odd tone and give them the full brunt of his power. They charged him, raising clubs and shanks, but staggered as they came within ten feet of the man. They began to sway, began to fall, and as I watched, they all fell to their faces in the grass and placed their hands behind their back. They fell like cordwood, weapons falling from limp fingers, as they lay, smiling, on the grass in placid compliance.
It was at that moment that I understood the terrifying extent of Jameson's power. It was then that I understood why he had never been allowed to be a General, a Politician, a Diplomat, or anything more than a minder of the dregs of society. Had Jameson been a very different man, he could have used his gifts to devastating effect.
There was no way that a just and loving God would have allowed a man to be so tested with corruption.
We spent the next hour putting zip cuffs on inmates as Jameson moved across the compound. We couldn't take him into the dorms, of course. We couldn't risk such a weapon in the confined spaces behind the doors, but it seemed we didn't have to. Just his presence on the yard quelled much of the riot, and we began to receive reports of inmates throwing down their weapons and returning to compliance. As Jameson walked, order began to reassert itself. As Jameson went, so went peace in his wake.
He saved us from a riot that would have taken days to quell.
He saved hundreds of lives, and how did we repay him?
We were on the Rec Yard when it happened. They had cuffed them and were processing them. They identified the instigators, threw the others back into their dorm, and the light of dawn was just beginning to peek above the horizon. The Warden had come out with an armed escort and was overseeing the operation with the Captain, Hardy, and myself. Jameson was continuing to calm the situation, his tone stretching out like an ocean wave, and when he abled over to our group, he was haggard but smiling. It had taken something out of him to use it, and he looked ready to drop.
The Warden extended a hand to Jameson, and he looked as hesitant to shake it as I had been.
"Excellent work, Jameson. We've missed your little gift around here. How would you like to come back? I can see that you're promoted, moved to the admin shift, and put you up somewhere cozy."
Jameson smiled but shook his head, "I don't think so, sir. I'm willing to lend my gifts, now and again, but I've found that I like my retirement."
The Warden feigned a look of regret, "I was afraid you'd say that."
The stock of the Captain's shotgun cracked into the back of Jameson's head, and he fell face-first onto the grass.
I had my gun slung around and pointing at them before I could stop myself. The Captain swung the barrel of his shotgun around to cover me, but the Warden shoved it away and stepped between my gun barrel and the group. His eyes did that funny thing again, where they shifted to something almost catlike. He didn't look angry or afraid but was, instead, curious as he studied me with his strange eyes.
"You know what must be done. If he leaves the compound, it will descend back into chaos. So he mustn't be allowed to leave. You know this is the best thing for the compound. A little sacrifice for the good of us all."
I pointed the gun at them, wanting to pull the trigger. If I did, though, I'd have to pull the trigger on myself next. I'd known what was happening here, hadn't I felt it from the beginning? The gun held firm for a count of ten, the Warden standing between us, the Captain looking nervous, Hardy's eyes darting for the best course of escape, but eventually, I dropped my gun barrel and let it hang underneath my arm.
The Warden said to grab him, and so we did.
We took him through the Rec Office and down a flight of stairs I had never seen before.
We came to a door, a big ugly metal thing that opened onto a shadowy corridor that seemed to stretch into the earth. It was lit by small islands of light created by overhead bulbs in small round cages. As we walked, a chorus of the damned yelled from the doors. They wanted food, wanted freedom, wanted death, and wanted to see the sun. We ignored them, and many shrank away when they saw the Warden was with us.
We deposited Jameson into one of these cells. He lay on the floor, breathing shallowly, and I paused in the door to look at him. Were we really about to do this? Were we really going to doom a man to spend his days in this dark hole? Would his chorus even reach out from the hellish place?
As the door swung shut, I both hoped it would and prayed it would not.
That was a month ago, and the compound has never been more peaceful. In the wake of the riot, we returned to some semblance of peace, much like the days before the quarantine, but I know the truth. I've thought about quitting a thousand times, thought about putting a gun in my mouth and ending it all, but I always worry that I too might wake up in that lightless void beneath the prison.
So let us never forget Officer Jameson, the savior of our compound.
May his death come swiftly and release him from the hell he now resides in.
May it be enough to grant him the freedom he deserves.
submitted by Erutious to Erutious [link] [comments]


2020.10.21 20:36 Linboy Elite Esports Double Prize Pool Tournament

Hey there everyone,
For this month we've moved our end of month double prize pool weekend to one week in advance. Just like our previous double prize pool weekends, you'll need to be a month pass holder. There are still 2 more tournaments left (including this week's). So if you're planning on competing for the rest of Oct, make sure to grab your pass before the deadline!
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submitted by Linboy to CompetitiveTFT [link] [comments]


2020.10.21 20:22 aldemaro14 Scrpyrt not calling callback functions

Hello, these are my files:
views.py
from uuid import uuid4 from urllib.parse import urlparse from django.core.validators import URLValidator from rest_framework.decorators import api_view, renderer_classes from django.views.decorators.csrf import csrf_exempt from django.http import JsonResponse from time import sleep import os import json import requests def is_valid_url(url): validate = URLValidator() try: validate(url) # check if url format is valid except ValidationError: return False return True @csrf_exempt @api_view(['POST',]) def getProduct(request): url = request.POST['url'] if not url: return JsonResponse({'error': 'Missing args'}) if not is_valid_url(url): return JsonResponse({'error': 'URL is invalid'}) data = { "request": { "url": str(url), "callback": "start_requests", "dont_filter": "false" }, "spider_name": "GetinfoSpider" } scrapyrt = 'http://127.0.0.1:9081/crawl.json' try: #print(str(requests.post(scrapyrt, data = data))) r = requests.post(scrapyrt, json = data) print(r) return JsonResponse({'data': r}) except Exception as e: print(e) return JsonResponse({'error': str(e)}) 
spider file getInfo.py
import scrapy from scrapy_splash import SplashRequest from ..items import SiteItem import logging class GetinfoSpider(scrapy.Spider): name:str = 'GetinfoSpider' allowed_domains = ['www.site.com'] script1:str = ''' function main(splash, args) splash.private_mode_enabled = false url = args.url assert(splash:go(url)) assert(splash:wait(1)) splash:set_viewport_full() return splash:html() end ''' def start_requests(self, url): yield SplashRequest( url=str(url), callback=self.parse_item, endpoint='execute', args = { 'lua_source': self.script1 }) def parse_item(self, response): logging.log(logging.WARNING, "This is a warning") item = WallmartItem() #specs = response.css item['title'] = response.xpath('//*[@id="product-overview"]/div/div[3]/div/h1//text()').get(), item['price'] = response.css('span.price-characteristic::attr(content)').getall(), item['deliveryDate'] = response.css('p.no-margin::text').get(), item['pictures'] = response.css('img.prod-alt-image-carousel-image--left::attr(src)').getall(), item['description'] = response.css('div.about-desc ::text').getall(), yield item 

items.py
import scrapy class SiteItem(scrapy.Item): # define the fields for your item here like: # name = scrapy.Field() title = scrapy.Field() price = scrapy.Field() deliveryDate = scrapy.Field() pictures = scrapy.Field() description = scrapy.Field() 

everything seems to be working fine until i send the post request with the data dict in views, i got this response:
2020-10-21 12:09:28 [scrapy] DEBUG: Crawled (200)  (referer: None) 2020-10-21 12:09:29 [scrapy] DEBUG: Crawled (200)  (referer: None) 2020-10-21 12:09:29 [scrapy] INFO: Closing spider (finished) 2020-10-21 12:09:29 [scrapy] INFO: Dumping Scrapy stats: {'downloaderequest_bytes': 1142, 'downloaderequest_count': 2, 'downloaderequest_method_count/GET': 2, 'downloaderesponse_bytes': 113270, 'downloaderesponse_count': 2, 'downloaderesponse_status_count/200': 2, 'elapsed_time_seconds': 1.577416, 'finish_reason': 'finished', 'finish_time': datetime.datetime(2020, 10, 21, 18, 9, 29, 136179), 'log_count/DEBUG': 13, 'log_count/INFO': 7, 'offsite/filtered': 1, 'request_depth_max': 1, 'response_received_count': 2, 'robotstxt/request_count': 1, 'robotstxt/response_count': 1, 'robotstxt/response_status_count/200': 1, 'scheduledequeued': 1, 'scheduledequeued/memory': 1, 'scheduleenqueued': 1, 'scheduleenqueued/memory': 1, 'start_time': datetime.datetime(2020, 10, 21, 18, 9, 27, 558763)} 2020-10-21 12:09:29 [scrapy] INFO: Spider closed (finished) 
No Item or information to parse, i think the problem could be that scrapyrt is not calling my callbacks functions, but I'm still not quite sure

any information will be appreciated
submitted by aldemaro14 to scrapy [link] [comments]


2020.10.21 20:11 SailorSaturn79 Will Close Credit One Cards Soon

I plan to close my credit one cards within the next two weeks via this letter. Is there anything I should change?
Your Name
Address
City, State Zip
Date
Credit One Bank
Address
City, State Zip
Re: Credit Card Account Cancellation Request
Acct: Account Number
Dear Sirs:
First, I’d like to thank Credit One Bank as I am most appreciative of your outstanding service and the opportunity Credit One Bank provided me in effort to build and strengthen my consumer credit profile. I must say, my experience with your institution has truly been a pleasure.
Second, I feel that I have successfully achieved my financial goals through the use of the wonderful service you provided. Therefore, I wish to close my credit card account with Credit One Bank. I am requesting that my credit reports reflect that this account was ‘Closed at the Consumer’s Request.’ I am further requesting written confirmation of the account’s closure. My records indicate that my current balance is $0.00--being the same information provided on 06/26/2016 by Credit One Bank Online Customer Access. For your reference, I have enclosed written documentation with regard to current account balance and current payment information on my account.
Should you have any questions regarding my request, please feel free to contact me at:
Address: Insert Address Here, and/or
Phone: (000) 000-000
Again, my sincere thanks for your excellent service! I will continue to encourage others to utilize your services in effort to meet similar financial goals. Thank you for your anticipated courtesy and assistance in fulfilling my request.
Sincerely,
Your Name
Enc Account Statement—Including Balance and Deposit Amounts, and Payment Information
Via USPS Priority Mail Delivery Serial #
submitted by SailorSaturn79 to CreditCards [link] [comments]


2020.10.21 17:14 mlemedusa Broke NC, looking for advice

Long story, will try to keep short. On mobile, and I don't ever post, So excuse the jumble.
My(F25) mom died when I was a year and a half old. I was legally adopted by my step mom when I was 8. Met her when I was 6. Her and my dad split multiple times, and he had drug issues so when they'd break up I'd stay with her. He was mentally and physically abusive. He's a different dude after not being with her for ~10 years. I went from an only child to having 3 brothers and a sister, and never got any therapy for the loss of my mom, rather it was swept under the rug because "I had a new mom now," and"my mom choose her to be my new mom from heaven" or something ridiculous like that..
My adopted mom made my life harder in almost every way I can think of..she was (and is) manipulative, has a serious lying problem, and continually makes terrible choices in who she dates. Growing up, she made so many bad choices for us kids. She depended on me to not only act as another parent to my 3 younger siblings, but also be her emotional support. She made poor money choices, choosing to feed her shopping habit rather than stock the cabinets, and we moved 20+ times growing up, being homeless multiple times. She continually dated jerks, and moved multiple of these jerks in. She continually cut me down as a person, which contributed to depression, anorexic habits, and suicical thoughts in highschool. She'd often call me names and hit me on multiple occasions. Overall a very unhealthy relationship. Now, she praises my achievements on social media, though she has done little to contribute to my achievements, rather i achieved DESPITE my situation growing up.
My 3 younger siblings, 23, 21, and almost 18 have all been institutionalized, the older two for months at a time/years of their lives due to anxiety, depression and attempted suicide.
I moved away for school 7 years ago and have blossomed as a person, and gained some clarity on my childhood. I carry a lot of guilt for leaving my siblings. I left for college after being homeless for a month or so after being kicked out of my adopted mom's house. I wasn't able to keep my lips zipped about my unhappiness living under her roof, and her parenting choices for my siblings so she kicked me out. Over the last 7 years, she came specifically to visit me (5hours away) twice. One was my graduation party of which my boyfriends parents hosted and paid for. The other times have been pit stops on other trips, and have all cost me money. She often drives through my current town on trips with her current bf, (who she started dating while he was married to another woman) but never reaches out to see me/say hi. I got to a point earlier this year that I realized that I do not get anything healthy out of the relationship, and it actually causes me a lot of emotional pain, and seeing/ talking to her causes me major anxiety. So I started creating space between us, and I was actually no contact for a few months earlier this year, but when I went to my hometown for a work trip last week I decided to reach out so I could spend some time with my youngest sibling because she is turning 18 next month, and it was the only chance I'd get to celebrate with her. I took my sister out for dinner and we had a huge talk. She has been feeling similar to how I felt growing up, and has noticed mom's lying, selfish tendencies, and has been forced into the therapist role for her now. She told me a lot of the stories mom has told about me, and there was an underlying theme. My adopted mom paints me to be the villan in every story. She lies. Like a lot. To the point where I miss out on a relationship with my sister because of her lies. She created a codependent relationship with sis to the point where my sister knows very few life skills. I helped my sister put together a plan to become self sufficient and get out from under mom. Sister was grateful and ready.
Adopted mom wrote me a letter after realizing I was distancing myself, saying how proud she is of the job she did for us kids growing up, and basically relinquishing all fault for our life growing up.
I want to write my own letter, and tell her exactly why I don't want to have a relationship with her. My bf thinks I should just go back to being NC and think about other things and decide what to do about adopted mom later. It's affecting me to the point where I am having trouble focusing and can't get anything done. I feel so anxious and upset. I can't believe this person's hypocrisy- she claims to be and presents herself as a loving mother, but has been anything but that to me. It's to the point that Im not even comfortable calling her "mom" anymore, I refer to her as her first name. I just don't think a mother would treat their child like I have been. Not sure if I should take some time for myself or if I'll feel better getting everything out and then going NC.
Any advice?
submitted by mlemedusa to nocontact [link] [comments]


2020.10.21 16:06 CovidMdBot 10/21/2020 In the last 24 hours there have been 492 new confirmed COVID-19 cases in Maryland. There has now been a total of 137,236 confirmed cases.

SUMMARY (10/21/2020)
YESTERDAY'S TESTING STATISTICS IN MARYLAND
Metric 24 HR Total Prev 7 Day Avg Today vs 7 Day Avg
Number of Tests 17,076 26,692 -36.0%
Number of Positive Tests 649 829 -21.7%
Percent Positive Tests 3.80% 3.20% +18.6%
State Reported 7-day Rolling Positive Testing Percent: 3%
Testing metrics are distinct from case metrics as an individual may be tested multiple times.
SUMMARY STATISTICS IN MARYLAND
Metric 24 HR Total Prev 7 Day Avg Today vs 7 Day Avg Total to Date
Number of confirmed cases 492 629 -21.7% 137,236
Number of confirmed deaths 8 5 +55.6% 3,912
Number of probable deaths 0 0 -100.0% 146
Number of persons tested negative 6,610 9,885 -33.1% 1,694,771
Ever hospitalized 33 52 -36.9% 16,549
Released from isolation 34 26 +30.8% 7,960
Total testing volume 17,076 26,695 -36.0% 3,138,875
CURRENT HOSPITALIZATION USAGE
Metric Total 24 HR Delta Prev 7 Day Avg Delta Delta vs 7 Day Avg
Currently hospitalized 463 -1 +9 -111.3%
Acute care 332 -9 +6 -253.7%
Intensive care 131 +8 +3 +166.7%
The Currently hospitalized metric appears to be the sum of the Acute care and Intensive care metrics.
Cases and Deaths Data Breakdown
CASES BY COUNTY
County Total Cases Change Confirmed Deaths Change Probable Deaths Change
Allegany 594 7 23 0 0 0
Anne Arundel 11,433 42 253 1 12 0
Baltimore County 19,799 50 633 2 23 0
Baltimore City 17,000 63 480 1 17 0
Calvert 1,141 9 27 0 2 0
Caroline 713 3 8 0 0 0
Carroll 2,159 7 125 0 3 0
Cecil 1,291 7 35 0 1 0
Charles 3,050 9 99 0 2 0
Dorchester 715 4 10 0 0 0
Frederick 4,559 13 130 1 8 0
Garrett 108 2 1 0 0 0
Harford 3,448 18 76 1 4 0
Howard 5,647 19 118 0 6 0
Kent 334 2 22 0 2 0
Montgomery 24,664 104 822 1 40 0
Prince George's 31,695 78 824 2 24 0
Queen Anne's 742 2 25 0 1 0
Somerset 398 3 5 0 0 0
St. Mary's 1,416 7 59 0 0 0
Talbot 627 4 6 0 0 0
Washington 2,137 21 42 0 0 0
Wicomico 2,385 11 49 0 0 0
Worcester 1,181 7 29 0 1 0
Data not available 0 0 11 -1 0 0
CASES BY AGE & GENDER:
Demographic Total Cases Change Confirmed Deaths Change Probable Deaths Change
0-9 5,297 23 0 0 0 0
10-19 12,013 50 2 0 0 0
20-29 25,953 87 24 0 1 0
30-39 24,675 89 50 0 6 0
40-49 21,746 77 124 0 3 0
50-59 20,000 88 323 0 17 0
60-69 13,448 45 645 1 13 0
70-79 7,913 27 968 3 28 0
80+ 6,191 6 1,773 4 78 0
Data not available 0 0 3 0 0 0
Female 72,327 257 1,916 5 75 0
Male 64,909 235 1,996 3 71 0
Sex Unknown 0 0 0 0 0 0
CASES BY RACE:
Race Total Cases Change Confirmed Deaths Change Probable Deaths Change
African-American (NH) 42,702 135 1,593 3 55 0
White (NH) 35,946 162 1,670 6 73 1
Hispanic 29,085 88 448 0 12 0
Asian (NH) 2,632 3 144 0 6 0
Other (NH) 6,370 24 44 0 0 0
Data not available 20,501 80 13 -1 0 -1
MAP OF CASES:
MAP (10/21/2020)
TOTAL MD CASES:
TOTAL MD CASES (10/21/2020)
CURRENT MD HOSP. & TOTAL DEATHS:
CURRENT MD HOSP. & TOTAL DEATHS (10/21/2020)
PREVIOUS THREADS:
SOURCE(S):
OBTAINING DATASETS:
I am a bot. I was created to reproduce the useful daily reports from u/Bautch.
Image uploads are hosted on Imgur and will expire if not viewed within the last six months.
submitted by CovidMdBot to maryland [link] [comments]


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