​
Mission statement:
The AIF is a decentralized pro-democracy/anti-fascist organization operating in the United States. We are big-tent community for patriotic folks working to undermine the encroachment of all forms of authoritarianism. We wish to reclaim the meaning of the word 'patriotism' from ultranationalists, racists, alt-right, neo-nazis, and radical-religious. We fight to encourage the people of the United States of America to strive for liberty and justice for all.
Check out our website: http://ironfrontusa.com/
Public Discord invite: https://discord.gg/5ap3pJDZ
The zine is rolling forward on the Discord! What ideas do you want to publish?
We’re also in heavy need of marketing help to understand better ways to advertise ourselves to a wider audience.
We want to do an information campaign.
Political activism can be an outlet for a variety of skills, including but not limited to:
-Intelligence
-Marketing
-Graphic Designers
-Programmers (Ruby, React.js, Python, etc.)
-Writers
-Survivalists/self-defense experts
-Community organizers
-Medical professionals
-Engineers
-Journalists/researchers
-Historians
If you are looking to become more involved with political activism, consider joining!
The best thing you can do at the moment is talk with local (and online) people, make friends, and give each other things to do that move you towards your goals. That communication, connectivity, and dependability drives organization. If you’re making social media accounts or local connections, please message us, we want to network with you!
list of ways to find people for building local affinity groups:
-protests
-community gardens
-seed banks
-conservation groups
-hiking clubs
-community fridges
-Democratic Socialists of America
-Food Not Bombs
-Trans Radical Activist Network, LGBTQIA+ groups
-Liberal Gun Club
-John Brown Gun Club
-Socialist Rifle Association
-https://www.actlocal.network/

I never learned about him in detail but it turns out he's a cringe radlib, Obama felt comfortable making today a holiday. He was a Catholic without the Marxist historical materialism to understand that "illegals" ("my Christianity allows me to respect all human life" you would have abandoned Jesus's immigrant grandparent you liar) are part of the international working class just like "citizens".
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cesar_Chavez

In Rome, he met with Pope Paul VI, who commended his activism.

spoilers: "Cesar Chavez was a groomer" /BrandNewSentence, I'm not exaggerating, this article literally uses that word when they talk about the unholy abuse cult stuff utilizing children as a vehicle for growing his power.

Chavez increasingly blamed the failure of the UFW strike on illegal immigrants who were brought in as strikebreakers. He made the unsubstantiated claim that the CIA was involved in part of a conspiracy to bring illegal migrants into the country so that they could undermine his union. He launched the "Illegals Campaign" to identify illegal migrants so that they could be deported, appointing Liza Hirsch to oversee the campaign.In Chavez's view, "if we can get the illegals out of California, we will win the strike overnight."

https://www.phoenixnewtimes.com/news/cesar-chavezs-rabid-opposition-to-illegal-immigration-not-covered-in-new-movie-6643666?storyPage=2

She describes how Chavez worked to undermine the Arizona Farmworkers Union, which had made strides in proving that undocumented workers could, in fact, be organized to help their situation in America. The Arizona group "began to have tremendous success, and they did it by going to Mexico and talking to workers before they got here," pressuring growers to employ them and finding contracts for work, Pawel tells us. "Chavez went out and destroyed them."

"if we get unionist radlibs off the planet, we can achieve global communism overnight" - Sakai, "Settlers" pg 420

This was a reiteration of an early view he expressed concerning the problems the UFW boycott faced in 1972; Chavez believed that illegal labor could undermine any strike undertaken by agricultural workers could be undermined by "wetbacks" and "illegal immigrants". Huerta urged him not to refer to migrants who had come to the U.S. illegally as "illegals" but Chavez refused, stating: "a spade's a spade."

A Trot wrecker is a Trot

Some UFW field offices refused to collaborate with the campaign, and the National Lawyers Guild (NLG) refused to allow its interns to work on it, at which Chavez cut the UFW's links with the NLG.

trying to hire "loyal" lawyers, classic Trump guy move

While Chavez had been in Europe, his cousin Manuel Chavez had established a UFW patrol, or "wet line", along Arizona's border with Mexico to stop illegal migrants crossing into the United States. There were rumors that this patrol was employing violence against these migrants, beating and robbing them and in one case castrating a man.

Catholics want only one thing and its disgusting https://www.catholicbridge.com/catholic/castration-catholic-church.php

These allegations soon appeared in the local press. A Mexican investigation determined that the UFW had bribed San Luis city officials to prevent them from interfering in these activities along the border.

labor aristocrats have class solidarity with each other across national borders, do you?

A Mexican union, the Confederation of Mexican Workers, broke its links with the UFW over the issue. Chavez dismissed the reports of violence as the smears of paid provocateurs, a claim which many of his supporters accepted. Chavez protected Manuel, while the executive board kept silent on his activities, regarding him as useful. The Chicano activist Bert Corona staged a protest against the UFW wet line, at which Chavez directed Jerry Cohen to launch an investigation into the funding of Corona's group.
The Teamster victories in the Delano vineyards angered Chavez, who insisted that there had not been free elections there. Chavez criticised the ALRB and launched a targeted campaign against Walter Kintz, the ALRB's general counsel, demanding his resignation. He also put pressure on Governor Brown to remove Kintz.

Nonstop Trump moments in this wiki page, this is the "hero" which radlibs claim is a good role model, this pathetic thin-skinned crybaby made Obama preach about being inspired to do social justice community leadership? I thought he hated Trump for his narcissism and arrogance???
...

Chavez blamed the defeat on the UFW's national boycott director, Nick Jones, who had been the only staff member to publicly voice disquiet over the Proposition 14 campaign. He claimed that Jones and the New York boycott director, Charlie March, had been part of a far-left conspiracy to undermine the UFW. Chavez also fired Joe Smith, the editor of El Macriado, after accusing him of deliberately undermining the newspaper. He then ordered Ross and Ganz to interrogate everyone who worked on the campaign, ostensibly to decide on new assignments but also to route out alleged malcontents, agitators, and spies. Many of those involved in running the UFW's boycott expressed concerns about a McCarthyite-style atmosphere developing within the union, and Chavez's purge attracted press attention. As the criticisms of his leadership intensified, Chavez responded with further purges, inspired by those in China's Cultural Revolution. He became convinced that there was a far-left conspiracy, whose members he called the "assholes" or "them", who were trying to undermine the UFW. At a La Paz meeting in April 1977, later called "the Monday Night Massacre," Chavez called together a range of individuals whom he denounced as malcontents or spies. They were verbally abused by members of the executive board and ejected from the community. He later accused Philip Vera Cruz, the oldest member of the executive board, of also being part of the conspiracy, and forced him out.

but Maoists actually read Marx tho?

He urged them to become a movement, which he argued meant establishing communal settlements for members, drawing on a Californian religious organization, Synanon, as an exemplar. Chavez had become increasingly interested in Synanon, a drug-treatment organization that had declared itself a religion in 1975 and which operated out of a compound east of Fresno. He admired Synanon's leader Charles Dederich, and the way that the latter controlled his planned community. In Chavez's opinion, Dederich was "a genius in terms of people"

"wow! abusing children is such an innovative and genius idea!" It really is not, primitive MKULTRA torture praxis is the oldest trick in the book, before people even wrote books.

In February 1977, Chavez took the UFW's executive board on a visit to the Synanon compound. There, they took part in a therapy system based on Dederich's own process, "the Game," as part of which each "player" was singled out in turn to receive harsh, profanity-laced criticism from the rest of the community. Dederich had told Chavez that "the Game" was key to reshaping the UFW, and the latter decided that he wanted everyone at La Paz to play it. He received tacit agreement from the executive board although some of its members privately opposed the measure. The Game took place at La Paz on Sunday mornings and Wednesday evenings, and at its height about 100 people were taking part in it each week. There it was used to shape behavior and punish nonconformity. Many individuals dreaded the humiliation it involved, disliked the obscenities that were part of it, and found going through it to be a traumatic experience. Chavez remained enthusiastic about the Game, calling it "a good tool to fine-tune the union". Many of those close to Chavez, including his wife and Richard Chavez, refused to take part. The farmworkers were not informed about the Game. Various long-term supporters of the UFW, including various clerical figures, visited La Paz at this time and left alarmed by how it had changed.
Synanon provided the UFW with $100,000 worth of cars and materials; building links with Chavez's movement burnished Dederich's reputation with rich liberals who were among Synanon's core constituency.

new age fascist Obama libs love the idea of being allied with farmworkers, its like the woke consultant grift nowadays: "listen to five lectures about white fragility to tell yourself you aren't a nazi class traitor"

Dederich suggested that Synanon and the UFW establish a joint communal farm, and although the option was explored, it did not materialize. Following Dederich's advice, Chavez began grooming young people who had grown up in the movement to remain committed to him and his ideals. He created a curriculum for them to follow, which included the Game.

the same toxic pedagogy which abused Brace Beldan, this is why everyone hates Christians lol, their obsession with Jesus on the cross is more of an instructional method to whipping their child slaves than any opposition to the cycle of abuse.

Whereas Chavez had previously refused to accept government money, he now applied for over $500,000 in grants for a school and other projects. Formal celebrations and group rituals became an important part of life at La Paz, while Chavez also declared that on Saturday mornings all residents of La Paz should work in the vegetable and flower gardens to improve sociability. A rule was passed that everyone at La Paz had to wear a UFW button at all times on penalty of a fine. After attending a course in Los Angeles, Chavez began claiming that he could heal people by laying on his hands.

New Age cultists won't read Marx but they will have psychotic episodes of believing they are Jesus

With membership dues declining, the UFW increasingly turned to commercial activities as a means of raising funds. It began marketing UFW branded merchandise through Ell Taller Grafico Speciality Advertising (ETG), which had Chavez as its chair. Chavez also set himself up as a housing developer, working in partnership with the Fresno businessman Celestino Aguilar. Together they bought properties undergoing foreclosure, renovated them, before selling them on. They ultimately moved from foreclosures to high-end custom built houses and subsidized apartment blocks. To conceal the UFW's involvement in these projects, Chavez and Aguilar formed the company American Liberty Investments. They also established the Ideal Minimart Corporation, which built two strip malls and operated a check-cashing store. Richard's company, Bonita Construction, was hired for some of the work. The Fresno Bee subsequently reported that most of the UFW's housing projects had been built by non-union contractors. The trade unions representing the building unions expressed outrage at the news, highlighting that they had previously given financial support to the UFW. The New Yorker later termed the incident an "embarrassment".

unionist to finance imperialist kulak pipeline

In the early 1990s, the UFW continued to market Chavez as a heroic figure, especially on university and college campuses.

power hungry opportunists recognize themselves in PMC Obama nerds

Chavez described his movement as promoting "a Christian radical philosophy".

He never had close friendships outside of his family, believing that friendships distracted from his political activism.
During the latter part of the 1970s, his infidelity with a range of women became common knowledge among senior UFW figures, who kept this knowledge quiet so as not to damage his reputation as a devoted Catholic family man

a friendless cult harem guy who is revolutionary but only if it lets him gather personal power? That's the complete opposite of what Christ was all about, having friends and being in a loving monogamous relationship

According to Chavez biographer Roger Bruns, he "focused the movement on the ethnic identity of Mexican Americans" and on a "quest for justice rooted in Catholic social teaching". Chavez saw his fight for farmworkers' rights as a symbol for the broader cultural and ethnic struggle for Mexican Americans in the United States.

"citizen lives matter, not the CIA conspiracy of illegals trying to ruin my unionism" he literally would have tried to lynch Jesus's refugee ancestor Ruth, he's like the villain in a Muslim time travel movie!

Chavez repeatedly referred to himself as a community organizer rather than as a labor leader and underscored that distinction.

"whites only community" but its for legal Latinos also, classic Trump guy

Since his death, there has been a struggle to define his legacy

r a d l i b

WASHINGTON, D.C.—In a stunning and unprecedented turn of events, sources confirmed today that everything in the world is absolutely fine, and there is no news to report. The global population awoke this morning to discover that every issue, problem, and crisis had miraculously resolved itself overnight, leaving humanity in a state of serene tranquility.
"This is truly a historic day," said a spokesperson for the U.S. Department of Calm Affairs. "For the first time in recorded history, we have absolutely nothing to worry about. No wars, no scandals, no natural disasters. It's just... calm."
The lack of news was felt across all industries, with journalists around the world scrambling to find something—anything—to write about. One newspaper in Ohio resorted to publishing an entire edition dedicated to photos of puppies playing in the park. The headline read, "Puppies Frolic. That's It. That's the News."
Economists and financial experts were equally baffled, reporting that the stock market had entered a period of unrelenting stability. "It's just a straight line," said one Wall Street trader, staring at a graph of stock prices. "I've never seen anything like it. I think I might take up gardening or something."
Social media platforms saw a sharp decline in activity as users found themselves with nothing to rant or argue about. Twitter, once a hotbed of discourse and debate, became a peaceful virtual oasis filled with heartwarming stories of human kindness and videos of baby animals.
Even meteorologists were left scratching their heads as weather patterns around the world stabilized into a perpetual state of mild and pleasant conditions. "It's 72 degrees and sunny everywhere on Earth," reported a weather anchor during the evening news. "I mean, literally everywhere. I don't even know how that's possible."
Meanwhile, politicians in every country were seen taking extended lunch breaks and enjoying leisurely strolls through the park, reveling in the newfound harmony that had enveloped the world.
The United Nations, which typically convenes to address global conflicts and humanitarian crises, held an emergency session to discuss how to spend their newfound free time. A unanimous vote was cast in favor of hosting a worldwide pizza party, with extra toppings for everyone.
As humanity collectively basks in the warm glow of universal contentment, experts are optimistic that this trend will continue indefinitely.
"We expect tomorrow to be much like today," said the spokesperson for the U.S. Department of Calm Affairs. "Everything will be fine. No news to report. Just take a deep breath and enjoy the moment."
At press time, a gentle breeze was blowing through the trees, and somewhere in the distance, a bird was singing.
alt:
NEW YORK—In an unprecedented and highly unusual turn of events, citizens across the nation awoke today to a world that seemed to have been touched by an angel of serenity, as news outlets reported that, quite simply, everything is fine. "No news today, folks. Absolutely nothing happened," announced a visibly relaxed newscaster, sipping a cup of coffee while lounging on the studio couch.
The complete absence of news, experts explain, appears to have been caused by a series of non-events, such as "people generally getting along," "the weather being mild and unremarkable," and "politicians deciding not to do anything rash or controversial." Confounded journalists scrambled to find anything even remotely newsworthy, but their efforts were thwarted by an overwhelming sense of calm and contentment that had settled over the world like a cozy blanket.
"I thought I had a lead on a possible traffic jam, but it turns out everyone just decided to carpool today," said a befuddled reporter at the scene of a strangely peaceful intersection. "I've never seen anything like it. Even the pigeons are getting along."
In a stunning show of solidarity, rival news networks came together for a joint press conference, where they announced in unison that there is, in fact, no news to report. "We tried to dig up some scandals, but it turns out everyone's being pretty honest today," explained one anchor, shrugging. "We even tried to stir up some celebrity drama, but all we found was a heartwarming story about an actor adopting a stray dog. It's just not news."
In response to the lack of news, media outlets have resorted to airing footage of kittens playing, peaceful nature scenes, and heartwarming stories of everyday heroes who didn't really do anything extraordinary today, but who deserve some recognition anyway. "We've got 24 hours to fill, folks, so get ready for some wholesome content," announced a news anchor as she queued up a video of a baby giggling.
Meanwhile, the internet was abuzz with citizens expressing their delight at the absence of distressing headlines. "Everything is fine? That's the best news I've heard all year!" exclaimed one Twitter user, while another posted, "No news is good news, am I right?"
At press time, news outlets were considering making "No News Day" an annual tradition, though many were skeptical that such a miraculous day could ever happen again. For now, citizens are encouraged to enjoy this rare moment of tranquility, and perhaps even step outside and take a deep breath of fresh air, because who knows what tomorrow will bring.

Carmela’s samovar. Fountains of Wayne. Italianissimo. Garden State Plaza Mall.

I have always been a fan of Jack Monroe (Nomad). And I despise how he was killed off by Winter Soldier. So a few months out of boredom I wrote this... I posted it here (with images) too - http://comicreliefpodcast.com/archives/2627
​
Today…
Tradition.
It’s something we do all the time; force of habit, superstitions, memorial – whatever the reason, we all have our traditions.
My name is Bucky Barnes. I was once known, throughout history, as Captain America’s side kick, “Bucky” fighting those Nazi soldiers, such as Red Skull, who sought to destroy the world. In that war, it was believed that both Captain America – Steve Rogers – and I had perished. Steve was found, frozen alive – in suspended animation, years after the war. I had also survived, but at the cost of my arm.
I wasn’t found by American soldiers, or friendlies. I was actually found by Russians, who took me – broken as I was – and gave me a robotic arm, and made me a part of their organization. You see, surviving the explosion had also destroyed my memories. I had no idea who I was – only the muscle memory of fighting, as I’d learned to do from Captain America.
As this “Winter Soldier” – I did a lot of things. A lot of things I wasn’t proud of. For example, I blew up a part of downtown Philadelphia and then tried to frame Jack Monroe, Captain America’s other “sidekick” for it. But it wasn’t enough that I was going to frame Jack Monroe, I also shot him, in cold blood, when he was defenseless and threw him in my trunk.
It would turn out that Captain America would get a hold of the Cosmic Cube and force me to remember everything. All of my sins. All of the things I’d done.
​
They forgave me. Said I wasn’t in control of who I was.
That made things worse, really. I wanted to feel like I should be punished. But Steve… he was shocked… maybe happy to see me alive. But when I told him what I’d done to Jack, I saw that pain in his face. The hurt. He wasn’t close to Jack – they’d have their difference, but I know Steve had always felt like Jack was the one that Steve could never help.
I ended up taking Jack’s body and burying it at Green-Wood in Brooklyn. I’ve made it a tradition to come out here – and say I am sorry. Because in the end, Jack didn’t have anyone. He’d lost touch with Steve Rogers, lost touch with the kid he’d adopted – she now goes by Julie Winters. I’ve found her. Send them money to take care of them every month as a mysterious benefactor. I don’t want the credit. I don’t want to be known. I just want to try and make some of the things I’ve done wrong, right now.
​
Imagine my surprise, when I arrived today – just like I did every year, and his grave is dug up. But there’s something weird – it’s not that someone dug up this grave. It’s like whoever was inside, clawed their way out. But how can that be? I know it’s Jack that was in this grave. And I shot him point blank. He was dead when I put him in the trunk. He was dead when I buried him here. I’m certain of it.
​
Three Months Ago…
Darkness!
Where am I?
I can barely move my arms? Am I in a coffin?
Memories… like a shattered mirror. Fragments. Broken. So many reflections. So many faces. Bucky. Nomad. Scourge.
Bucky.
Wait. What’s the last thing I remember?
Pull yourself together.
Pick up the pieces of the mirror.
My name is Jack. Jack Monroe.
Last thing I remember – there was someone – a drug lord in town – I was drinking at the bar. Went outside. Someone said my name.
Gunned me down.
Dear Lord, I am inside a coffin.
I take a deep breath – pull my arms close to my chest and push up on the roof of the coffin. It barely moves.
Then I remember Doctor Jane Foster. She said I was dying. My body was falling apart, killing itself.
How am I alive? If being gunned down didn’t kill me, then time should have finished me in.
And yet – as I push on this coffin lid, I can feel it giving way. It’s creaking. My strength had been giving out, just before I was gunned down – how is it back?
​
The lid finally cracks, breaks, and dirt begins pouring into the grave. It’s like swimming in concrete, digging my way out. When I finally breach, I take a deep breath of fresh air – and see I have just dug myself out of my own grave. A concrete marker reads:
Here Lies Jack Monroe;
A Hero The World Needed
Taken Too Soon.
​
That’s… nice.
As I pull myself out and sit on my own grave mound, I can see someone’s come by visiting my grave. Who? Cap, maybe?
Who gunned me down?
Was it one of those drug lords?
Was I getting too close?
I brush myself off – head over to a second hand clothing store, and manage to convince the store clerk to give me some clothes. I head back to the bar – see if they have some video footage.
The bartender tells me it’s been almost two years since he’s seen me.
Have I been gone for two years?
I ask about the video footage – he says he’s not sure if he has it that far back. He comes back and gives me a drive – said it’s been recorded over, but if I am techy enough I might be able to pull something off the drive.
I just happen to have a fair share of tech, if my storage space is still good. Should be. I prepaid it for ten years – told them I needed privacy. When I got free of the “Scourge” nanites, I ended up working with the Thunderbolts – even checked up on them a little later. But I kept the equipment I’d gathered when I worked as Scourge.
Going back – I am easily able to recover the old data on this drive. It takes a few sweeps of the program – but even when it’s done – I make it do a few more scans. Because it can’t be right.
The person who shot me – he looks a lot like Bucky Barnes, Steve’s side kick who died in World War II.
But every scan tells me this is the cleanest image – I’ll be damned, Bucky Barnes tried to kill me.
Well, he did kill me.
​
Today… Green-Wood Cemetery…
“What the Hell is going on?”
“When you came at me, you shot me in cold blood, in the dark, no chance to even fight,” a voice calls out from the dark. “I think the bullet proof Kevlar vest may have protected me, or something else… but I am going to give you a chance to explain yourself.”
Bucky Barnes turned around, “Who?”
“You don’t recognize the man you murdered?” the voice called back.
“I’ve murdered a few people in my time,” Bucky growled, hands going to his weapon he always carried. “Care to elaborate?”
“We had something in common, you and I,” the voice calls out. “We both fought side by side next to a Captain America. You fought next to Steve Rogers, I fought along side a slightly deranged man by the name of William Burnside.”
“Jack? Jack is that you?” Bucky called out, still unable to determine where Jack’s voice had been coming from.
“Winner, winner,” Jack Monroe’s voice replied. “So why did you do it?”
“Shoot you?” Bucky called out after a moment. “Would you believe mind control?”
“Another thing we have in common,” Jack responded. “I was mind controlled, as well, once. It’s amazing what they forgive when you tell someone that you were mind controlled, right? I shot a killed a young girl named Helen Takahama – better known as Jolt, from the Thunderbolts. Turns out, she’s got something in common with you and I – looks like she came back from the dead too. Just can’t keep a good fighter down, can you?”
“So why are you here? Why are you hiding? Why all the questions?” Bucky called out, his gun drawn. “Is this revenge?”
“Revenge?” Jack’s voice called out, almost laughing. “I don’t need revenge. But the thing is, I want to test myself. I’ve been out of the game. And I’ve done some reading on you – you took over Cap’s thing after he got ‘killed’ too. You’ve done a lot – even left a new version of the Thunderbolts… see how the thread of our lives keep weaving together? So pardon me if I give you the same treatment you gave me…”
At that moment, Jack, who’d used the Pym particles he’d used with the Scourge outfit, grew to incredible size, striking Bucky with an uppercut that sent him flying. “All of my life,” Jack continued, as he slammed his fist down into the ground, barely missing Bucky, “I’ve lived in someone else’s shadow. Whether it was William’s or Steve’s. If I wasn’t living in someone’s shadow, I was being manipulated.”
Bucky fired a number of rounds from his gun; but the bullets in his gun were not the kind that would kill a target – rather the electrical pulse would trigger upon impact. One bullet was enough to down an elephant easily – six shots into the enlarged Jack Monroe, and he wasn’t showing any signs of slowing down.
“When I was struggling with myself, when I was with Steve, he’d tell me about some of the things that Pym had gone through – his own crisis of life – even how Hawkeye, for awhile lost himself – going from archer to giant man! We all are weak. It wasn’t just me.”
As Bucky got to his feet and scrambled up a tree to get a clean shot Jack, out of nowhere – a glider nearly missed him – but he was able to duck, grab the bottom and swing himself on top of it, gaining control of the glider. This, he’d recognized as the same glider that Jack had used as Scourge. Bucky leapt at Jack from the glider, but at that moment Jack reduced himself to normal size; and the two tumbled on the ground before both standing on their feet.
Bucky had his gun at Jack’s temple, but Jack had drawn a short that had been shrunk to full size and had it under Bucky’s chin.
“Don’t make me pull this trigger, Jack.”
“Don’t make me pick your brain clean with my sword, then.”
Jack withdrew the blade first just as Bucky holstered his gun.
“What was this really about?” Bucky asked.
“It really was about proving I could still fight. When I dug myself up from that grave,” he gestured to the grave that he’d dug up again, “I was still trying to piece myself together. When I got out – I found out it’d been you who shot me. I didn’t know why. But as I did my research, I knew what happened. I started following you. Learned your pattern. Knew you made it a tradition to visit the grave, when I tapped into the cemetery’s surveillance footage. I even found the footage of myself – the time I thought I was beating up drug dealers, and in my confused state of mind, turns out it was every day people. But I don’t know why or how my strength came back. How my mind feels clear again. How I became me again.”
“Let me help you,” Bucky extended his hand. “I want to help. I want to make this,” he gestured between them. “Whatever this is – I want to make it right.”
​
Avengers Mansion
Hank Pym folded his arms across his chest as he stared at the computer read outs.
“What do you got for me, doc?” Jack asked, sitting in a chair nearby.
“As far as I can tell, Doctor Jane Foster was right,” Pym explained, pointing out some scans. “I can see here where you body seemed to be killing itself. Your immune system turned on itself. But, by the looks of it – when Bucky shot you – your body ‘died’ – but it didn’t really die. It simply shut down. As far as I can tell, between the super soldier serum that was destroying your body and the nanites – something created a very unique reaction. It literally appears as if your entire body went into a state of hibernation. The best way to describe this read out, Jack is that – your body underwent something similar to a caterpillar’s life – when they enter the cocoon stage – and during the pupa stage, the old body literally dies and a new body forms inside the protective shell known as a chrysalis. Your old body died, to make way to a new body that has adapted to all that’s been done to it, creating this new body. Your new body shows no signs of the serum at all – but you have super natural strength and agility, as we saw with the tests we’ve run.”
“So I am all cured?” Jack asked with a smirk.
“Cured, I guess, would be a way of explaining this,” Pym agreed. “I’d like to run some more tests – and test the limits of your strength and agility. It seems pretty close to Steve’s.”
“That’s all right, doc,” Jack stood up and put on his jacket. “I really don’t want to be compared to Steve anymore. I’m my own person now.”
To Be Continued?

I still feel like I'm in my mid thirties, but saying the "F" word gives me all kinds of anxiety.
Hi! I'm an introvert who works from home and I don't get to socialize much. I haven't left my house in over a week. My four-legged best buddy had major surgery and is on strict rest, add separation anxiety on top, and voila! I have only gone outside to check the mail or take the bins in/out.
I just moved into my very own place a month ago. It's weird having all this space I can decorate and furnish how I want, but I'm really enjoying picking out things and figuring out my "style".
I sound boring already, huh?
My life is a constant state of chaos in various aspects, and I just want that feeling of talking to an old familiar friend. Someone to joke and laugh with. Share mundane or random weird thoughts with. Just chit chat with.
I'm not looking for anything romantic, those days are long behind me and I'm content being with myself. I do have times where I won't feel like talking, but I'm very up front about it (and usually when I'm very overwhelmed with what life is throwing at me).
My interests are a little bit of this and a little bit of that. Currently I'm interested in plants/flower gardens for my backyard, silly and fun video games, and... I don't know. I need to get some hobbies once I get settled in.
If you have made it to here and haven't decided that I am a complete bore, please send me a message or chat. It's a toss up whether I'll fall asleep tonight or not. If I don't get back to you right away, it means the sleep gods have granted me a good nights sleep.
Also, to make sure that you are really interested in communicating, send a message with the last funny thing that happened to you.

Are you looking for a luxurious and comfortable stay while on the go? Look no further than service apartments! Service apartments offer the perfect blend of luxury living and cozy comfort, making them the perfect choice for travelers. In this blog post, we explore why service apartments are better than hotels, the facilities and amenities they offer, and why they are worth considering for all travelers. Let’s dive in!
Service apartments better than hotel
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Service apartments Accommodation
Service apartments offer luxurious living without compromising on comfort. With amenities such as state-of-the-art kitchens, spacious bedrooms, and relaxing outdoor spaces, they provide a home away from home experience that is ideal for both short and long term stays.
The facilities and amenities in Service Apartments in South Delhi vary depending on the location and size of the property. Generally speaking, they will include all the basic comforts you would expect from a luxury apartment, such as high quality furniture, appliances, modern fixtures and fittings. In addition to this many service apartments also offer extra features like gyms and swimming pools to further enhance your stay.
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Source Url- https://ibusinessday.com/service-apartments-delhi-offering-cozy-comfort-at-affordability/

Demographics

• Gender: Male
• Race/Ethnicity: Asian (Filipino)
• Residence: Nevada
• Income Bracket: $300k+
• Type of School: Private
• Hooks (Recruited Athlete, URM, First-Gen, Geographic, Legacy, etc.): Sibling legacy (dartmouth)

Intended Major(s): Mech Engineering, Physics (for LACs)
Academics

• GPA (UW/W): 3.9/4.7
• Rank (or percentile): school doesn’t rank
• # of Honors/AP/IB/Dual Enrollment/etc.: 18 Honors, 6 APs, took Chem I at state school over the summer
• Senior Year Course Load:

AP Calc BC AP Studio Art - 2D Advanced Topics in Latin Literature Digital Media - Illustration H Advanced Engineering and Design (class for FRC) H Intro to Econ & Personal Finance H US Gov H World Literature
Standardized Testing

• SAT I: 1480 (690 RW, 790 M) (didn’t submit)
• ACT: 33 (34 E, 35 M, 32 R, 32 S)
• AP/IB: 5s for APUSH, AP Euro, 4 for AP Physics I, 3 for AP Calc AB

Extracurriculars/Activities

1. Work (Paid) - Raising Canes Crewmember, trained on all positions and serving hundreds of customers weekly
2. Nevada Junior Classical League Convention Co-Pres, Historian - Planned state conventions and other local conventions, organized activities, materials, scheduling, budgeting
3. Orchestra 2nd ChaiInterim Concertmaster - performed at multiple concerts and school assemblies, stepped in as Interim Concertmaster
4. Green Club Composting Officer - started a composting program to reduce food waste, created proposals for admin to help lower school garden with this compost
5. FRC Builder, Electrician, Media - built systems of each years robot, organized and wired electronics, took pictures at competition
6. FTC Referee/Field Reset, FLL Mentor - FTC volunteer at competitions and mentored FLL school team, help host FTC meet with my school
7. Track (Mid Distance Runner) - 4x800, 800, 4x400, beat PRs every meet, 2A State Championship Runner-Up
8. Tennis (Singles & Doubles) - Stand in for Singles 2, usually plays doubles, 2021 3A State Runner-ups, 2022 3A State Champion
9. NHS member - volunteered with Miracle League helping children’s with disabilities play tennis, organized for Thanksgiving drives, helped with Springs Preserve Halloween
10. Home Cook (hobby) - cooked multiple dishes including steak, chicken, salmon, and ribs, learning to cook cultural recipes from grandparents

Awards/Honors
(nothing too special)

1. Intermediate Art Academic Award
2. Strings Ensemble Arts Academic Award
3. National Latin Honor Society
4. National Latin Exam (Gold), Vocab Exam (Silver), had bronze earlier 2 years
5. National Merit Commended

Letters of Recommendation
AT Latin Teacher (10/10): very close to him, talked about my NJCL leadership, had him for 3 years, did pretty well in his class and always came in just to talk
AP Phys (8/10): had him junior year, pretty close to him too, did well in his class, rly enjoyed talking to him for advice, mainly bonded over my hobbies of 3D Printing
Engineering Design (9/10): had her all four years, pretty good relationship, probably talked about my growth freshman to senior year
AP Art (9/10): had her all four years, talked about my portfolio theme and my growth as a self taught artist
Interviews
MIT: pretty standard, vibe was pretty awkward since interviewer was a CS major (7/10)
Essays
PS: Talked about my job experiences and how they helped me manage my depression much better and helped my life experiences overall (wasn’t a sob story) (10/10)
Spent most of my time and effort on essays for ivies and top lacs (8/10)
Decisions (indicate ED/EA/REA/SCEA/RD)
Acceptances:
Northeastern Engineering (EA)
Union College (EA) + ($30k/yr Presidential Scholarship)
Boston University (RD)
Lafayette (RD)
Trinity College (RD) + ($2.5k/yr Deans Scholarship)
Colgate (RD)
Middlebury (RD)
Bates (RD)
Bowdoin (RD) 😍 (most likely committing here)
Waitlists:
Holy Cross (yield protected 🤢)
Rejections:
Brown (ED)
Dartmouth (this kinda hurt)
Cornell Engineering
MIT
Notre Dame
Amherst
Williams
Tufts (yield protection 😩)
Carnegie Mellon (Art and Engineering)
Wesleyan (bruh)
Additional Information:
I’m currently stuck between either a top lac or traditional engineering school. LACs don’t have engineering programs but they have dual degree options with dartmouth and columbia so I’ll prob go down that path instead.
I’ve been thinking about whether i’d be happy at an LAC or not or just go to northeastern for engineering. I still have to tour northeastern and the three lacs I got into for me to decide.
In the end i’m happy about the LACs that saw my potential and took me in. I’m glad everything kinda just worked out.
Waiting on:
None

August 1510
Not two years after the nobility of France, the Empire, and Lorraine had gathered in Lorraine to mourn the passing of the King of Jerusalem and Sicily, Lorraine was abuzz with foreign visitors once again. It was a happier occasion that brought them here this time: the wedding of the Duke of Lorraine, Bar, and Calabria Antoine de Lorraine and Marguerite de Valois-Savoie, the sister of the Duke of Valois and Savoy.
The setting this time was not Nancy, where the ducal residence remained under renovation, but in fair Toul, where the newest residence of the Duke of Lorraine was just built a year earlier. The choice to hold the wedding here, rather than in the capital of Nancy, was twofold. The first is simple logistics: even though the residence in Toul is smaller than that in Nancy, the renovations in Nancy mean that the residence houses fewer guests and hosts smaller feasts. The second is more political: Toul is the newest of the Duke's possessions, brought into the fold only in 1500. Holding the wedding is a calculated show of strength to the city's burghers. Every noble visiting the city for the wedding, every florin spent emblazoning the arms of de Lorraine around the city in celebration, reminds them of the permanence of this new state of affairs.
The ceremony itself was held in Cathédrale Saint-Étienne de Toul, its interior adorned with banners bearing the coats of arms of Antoine and Marguerite. It was officiated by long-time advisor and political ally of the Dukes of Lorraine, the Bishop of Toul Hugues des Hazards.
They made a handsome couple standing at the altar, dressed in silks and finery. Marguerite's outfit tastefully integrated jewelry old and new, gifts from their courtship (a silver bracelet with the Cross of Lorraine and a golden brooch of pearls and sapphires) worn alongside new pieces gifted for the wedding. The finest piece was the ring Antoine placed upon her fingers--a heavy, golden thing, bedecked in sapphire, diamonds, and rubies. The thumb. The index finger. The middle finger. The Father. The Son. The Holy Spirit.
Finally, the ring finger, where that precious vein ran straight to her heart. With this ring, I thee wed.
As husband and wife heard their first Mass together beneath their lace canopy, Antoine's heart filled with joy. What had started as a youthful dream, hatched in protest against his father, had been made reality. He was hers, and she was his.
When the Mass finally ends, the newly-weds and their guests pour out into the streets and into the gardens of the ducal residence at Toul, where long rows of tables play host to their festivities. As the Duke and Duchess preside, the guests gorge themselves on all manner of dishes. Boar and venison from the nearby Forêt de la Reine, fresh fish from the rivers Meuse, Moselle, and Ornain, the famous Bar-le-Duc jelly, and more filled their plates, and the wine was plentiful and flowed freely.
That first wedding feast was only the beginning of a week of celebrations. As is only befitting a gathering of so many nobles, a grand tournament is held in celebration of the wedding. The bridegroom himself rides in the tournament, bearing the favor of his wife--a wreath of thistles and daisies--upon his lance, and the fleur-de-lis upon his gorget.
For that week, the wars of Italy seem a distant memory. Frenchman and German drink and dance and make merry together. Sure, they taunt each other, and the results of the joust are lorded over each other as proof of French élan or German macht. A few occasions threaten to spoil the peace, too, as noblemen lose themselves in their cups and tempers flare, but even these are deftly defused, no one wishing to earn the ire of their gracious host. For that week, the rivalry of Frenchman and German is that of brothers, rather than a life-or-death struggle. Peace on Earth, as in Heaven.
And then, as soon as it is over, it is done. The week ends, and the guests go their separate ways, filtering out of Toul, and leaving the newly-weds to start their life together.
Summary
Antoine de Lorraine has married Marguerite de Valois-Savoie. The dowry agreement includes the following:
1) [REDACTED] florins
2) The designated provinces will be transferred to Antoine de Lorraine. The two northern provinces in green (1a7, 1a8) are appended to the Duchy of Bar as part of Barrois mouvant (for which the Duke of Bar owes fealty to the King of France). The southern province in red (1ab) is appended to the Duchy of Lorraine
3) The Duke of Bar has been named a Peer of France
A sizable tournament has also been held as part of the wedding, which will be rolled on Discord this weekend. Join the tournament here!
Will add the price for the wedding (and who is paying for what) in a comment once we finish ticket negotiations.

​
Welcome to today’s episode of ‘I read Enneagram Literature so you don’t have to’.
So, last time we discussed reactivity, it was in terms of symptoms and triggers – what causes it, how it looks like for each type.
This time we’re going to try looking at it at a somewhat deeper level, trying to glipmse what’s ‘underneath’ the reaction, and underneath that, down to the very root.
There is this idea that for every type there is a particular way that they parse pain, adversity and disconnection, a particular cascade or complex of emotions that tends to be set off (that, in some individuals, may be buried quite a bit under the surface) – this is called the ‘specific difficulty’, which then leads to the specific reaction, how the person characteristically responds to adversity, the ostensibly visible outward behavior – furthermore, the particular way that the adversity is interpreted, what one feels in response, and how one then reacts (having one interpretation, feeling, response etc. and not others) may be grounded in particular assumptions or perceptions. (Almaas would say, ‘delusions’ deriving from the absence of the holy ideas)
It’s repeatedly emphasized that since the ideas are all synonymous, to “lose” one is to lose all and so we would all have these experiences and reactions sometimes so long as we are subject to “egoic existence” -
But there’s one reaction that particularly tends to be your go-to reaction when things don’t go your way.
As some variants of the theory goes, this “specific reaction”, or at least some simpler, pre-verbal, implicit version of this, would also have been your reaction as a baby when your needs weren’t being met, or possibly even what you were feeling the very moment you realized you were a separate person different from your mother and the rest of the world, and that this then formed the basis for your separate self-concept.
Or, if you believe in that sort of thing, it would rather have been the moment you got disconnected from the universal consciousness and subcumbed to the illusion of being a separate being.
It is worth nothing that if it is your concept of you getting distinguished from your concept of the universe, it could well feel like being cut off from a state of oneness, the same way that the reverse experience of everything becoming one can reportedly happen during meditation or drug trips, with or without any supernatural or metaphysical elements involved.
But even as a purely psychological postulation it is of course highly speculative, perhaps best seen as a metaphor, summary or just-so story, an image describing a subjective feeling.
However, the notion that we tend to whatever adversity and pain you happen to encounter differently and in consistent ways based on our mode of perception and the specific biases of it is something that may highly check out or that I’d find interesting to explore, as I’ve always been fascinated by the idea of how your viewpoint can influence what you see and the way that people’s reactions, responses, feelings and choices can differ under adversity.
At very least, I’ll have to grant this Mr. Almaas that he is clearly an intelligent, well-read person familiar with a great variety of spiritual traditions from around the world and astute insight into people’s reactions and feelings, which is particularly apparent in the way that he skillfully anticipates the reader’s emotional torque and always has a nice little term for it.
(Frankly, I smell INFJ. All this “subtler spiritual world beneath everything” is very Ni.)
It is clear that he got this Wisdom from much introspecting & discussing his meditation experiences with other spiritual seekers.
If I did not by chance happen to have the particular background that I do and this very particular collection of whimsically gathered facts rattling around inside my head, he might have converted me.
Whether we agree with his conclusions & what the lens and what is seen, he seems to have fine perceptions on the human psyche so hypothetics about babies & universal soul aside, his sharpness on anticipating & discerning feelings may lead one to at least entertain his notions with regard to the emotions of adults.
Be that as it may, I will now simply attempt to convey the concept for your consideration.

Type 1

The response here is to judge that there must be something wrong. The unsatisfactory something in the environment is simply incorrect, not how it should be.
So the feeling reaction can be angry frustration at the thing not being how it ought, whether that is something external or yourself, including for some a more or less buried sense that you, too are ‘wrong’ and in need of improvement, or at least of civilizing & control so you stay ‘right’. Some unhappier 1s can present with a deep sense of unworthyness & how they’re ‘the worst’.
Note that, in contrast to some of the other complexes, the idea that “some parts are wrong” also implies that some parts are right & that this is discernible to you.
The reaction to this, then, tends to be either improvement or justification.
Improvement is straightforward – you try to fix the thing that’s wrong. It’s almost a reflex to bring it up or even immediately go & fix it. The error will tend to (as a result, 1s or even 1 fixers can be spotted by a tendency to repeatedly bring up nitpicks or complaints that bother them)
This is where some of the compulsive action-like quality or tendency toward action as cope comes from, but likely also action-orientedness in a positive sense, (“if no ones gonna fix it I will”)
This impulse to fix is also applied to oneself, so 1s can be the kinds of people who are always looking to grow & improve themselves.
The other side of the coin is justification, responding to the feeling of ‘wrongness’ by arguieing & proving that you are, in fact, right, arguing that your way is the best & the other person might be wrong, or that you’re not wrong fir wanting something because you’re going about it the ‘right’ way.
The underlying assumption that needs to be there for this response to make sense is that some things are better than others, that things are comparable, that it’s possible for some parts of something to e right and for others to be wrong, for some to perfect and others imperfect. (and this is where Almaas would wax poetically to you about the intrinsic Holy Perfection of all things that is also the intrinsic intuitive intelligence of the universe & yadda yadda)
Certainly there may be some over-perception of what’s binary, or even just linear unitarian and rankable, meaning, it can be boiled down to a single number, so that there is a clear unambiguous “better or worse” to everything – some things may be incomparable apples and oranges, or there may be different equally good options, or a tradeoff depending on priorities.
However, I think most of us would agree that there is an universal better or worse for some things at least – starving children, for example.

Type 2

So for 2, the fundamental response to things not going your way is a sense of impotent humiliation, feeling personally slighted or humbled, but also dispensable, uneeded and unimportant.
Think of the classic example of the person who is dejected over the 1 person who didn’t like their presentation, or who has a hard time not taking it as personal rejection if their help is declined.
2s tend to implicitly assume that they should be able to make everyone like them so when that isn’t the case it can be felt as humiliation or shame, but particularly the kind of shame where you feel irrelevant, like the ‘No thank you’ means ‘You’re not needed or important we can do just fine without you’.
The reaction then is described as wilfulness, actively making sure that things go your way, in particular, that you get the responses you want from others. You put yourself in a good light, you go out of your way to make a connection, you ingratiate yourself,
In the extreme this can lead to meddlesomeness, like intruding in situations youre not really a part of to make sure they go your way. Like the classic mistake where the step-parent tries too hard to force a blended family & gets pissed off when the stepkids keep mementos of their bio parent or want to do things with just their full siblings. “why are you excluding me/your half-siblings, I just want us all to be a happy family” but then by trying too hard to force it they just antagonize the step kids. But letting it grow organically entails the possibility that you might be disliked or rejected and then feel powerless & shamed again.
The underlying assumption you need to make for this interpretation of things to make sense is that you have a separate will that can be frustrated & aren’t part of an great universal motion that is already making everything happen & taking care of everything… sigh.
2s can certainly come off as both overperceiving how much it’s all up to them (“They need me, if I don’t solve all their problems who will? My shitty boyfriend will die without me”) and as overly forcing matters in ways that can seem pushy, ingratiating or even manipulative, & it is true that you wouldn’t feel humiliated or impotent if you didn’t think it was up to you, because if the other person just chose differently, why should you be ashamed if they refused your offer? It wouldnt mean youre unimportant, just that they’re not in the mood for, say, your cookies today.
Though, when I think of all the 2s that are charity workers or doing thankless hard work in caretaking professions, I am kind of grateful that they didn’t leave it up to the “benevolence of the universe” but rightly perceived the need for somebody to fucking care - Soup kitchens & nursing departments are alledgedly chock full of ‘em. So I’d say it’s an issue of right perception.
The esoterics would say that the charity workers helping is of course part of the universal will, but that smells like catholicism, “everything bad is you everything good is god”, thats no way to live.
(Funfact: You won’t believe how uneccesarily Freudian this was in the book. Just kept referring to it as “humiliated castration”.)

Type 3

Here, the response to something not going your way is to feel that you have failed. You should have been able to do this without a problem, but there’s a problem, so you didn’t do it right.
Please note the difference to 2, that, though it’s kinda similar, the point here is not that you feel personally humbled, but that you did the thing wrong, and therefore your pain could be remedied by doing the thing better. It’s your doing that was the problem.
So there is a self-judgement entailed here: You weren’t good enough, but good enough in the sense of “not competent enough”, not morally or method wise, like with 1.
The reaction, then, is also different: Striving and activity. You think what happened is you did it wrong, so you must do it better, do more, keep doing.
This is why 3 is one of those types that get antsy when they sit idle for too long.
The striving itself & desire to become-through-doing may actually be more fundamental that even the desire for success, praise or attention (which are external marker by which to measure the striving, that you’re doing it right) – because, as soon as the 3 has cleared one goal, they quickly think of another.
You also sometimes hear 3s or 3 fixers say that when someone says they’re not X they take it as a pointer that they should be more X. Not being X is seen as a failure, & the response is to strive to be more X.
This is underlied by the assumption that you are a separate doer, you’re an agent appart from the “universal flow”, you are a someone who can do something.
If you didn’t see what happens as potentially under the control & depending on your actions,
Sigh.
I will never understand ppl who find the idea that they have no agency comforting. Proactivity & not waiting for shit to fall in your hands is IMHO one of the best qualities you can have in life.
I honestly admire this quality, as someone who’s shot themselves in the foot so much by assuming it’s all pointless & my actions don’t matter.
That said, the grain of truth here may be that 3s overestimate what is within their ability & then judge themselves by those too-high estimations. Like thinking they must win everything or work so hard it breaks their body, that you always can & should do more & it’s not ok to have limits – or that limits are the same as having failed. Your body having limits is not your failure, did you design it? Did you invent humans? No, evolution fucked that one up (universal benevolence my arse) so you did not fail.

Type 4

So, when a 4 is met with things not going so peachy or events they do not like, the go-to response is to feel disconnected, cast-out, stranged – lost in the wild or left out in the rain.
This can be a disconnection from oneself, or from what is divine, sublime, meaningful or spiritual, from whatever it is that matters, whatever you’d find at the end of the rainbow, whatever you’d hope to find inside that castle from Utena.* That which shines. The Power of Miracles. Something Eternal. The blue flower. The unicorn in the garden.
And not only are you separated from it, you feel like it is unreachable, or you are unreachable to it, that you are far from heaven -
As you might expect, if you’re away from that, you’re left in a sad and mournful state, longing for what can never come back, or what you can’t seem to find, what seems distant to you.
You see the world as a sad burnt-out cadaver from which the light has gone, and you don’t get how everyone else seems to walk through this place as if nothing is wrong. Maybe you envy them, or you disdain them, or you think they must just be dumb and simple but whatever the specifics it seems unlikely that you can have a rapport with them.
One might think of Herman Hesse’s descriptions of his youth where he saw his mother & sisters as existing in “the light world” and himself as being aware of a realm of darkness.
So what reaction can you possibly have to it? The book is deliberately out to humble you by calling it “control” & I see how it means that & how, in the worst cases, that absolutely applies, though it’s gonna make ppl imagine the wrong thing. It’s not control like a control freaks who tells you what to do, in its more benign manifestations you might call it creation. Trying to make your own meaning, if divinity seems far away, in being deliberate about how you exist, putting thought & choice in little choices like what makeup to wear or what option to pick, relating it to something within you, seeking the sublime wherever it may be.
Though you can certainly call it control when it gets into trying to craft how you will be seen & responded to. Correcting ideas and perceptions you don’t want as misunderstandings might be thought of as a kind of control.
That thing when your relationship is stalling out & you cause some drama or suddenly have this fantasy of running away with a casual acquaintance is a kind of control. Inflicting pain onto yourself so at least you know when the stab comes is a kind of control. Chosing which negatives to show so they don’t focus on the really raw spots is a kind of control. Making your pain into something pretty is a way of mastering it.
In extreme cases, stuff like self-harm or anorexia can be control.
“If all else fails, I myself have power to die”, as one famous 4 (Shakespeare) has Juliet say. She destroys herself before they can force her to marry Paris, which seemed to her the only way to take control over her destiny and stay true to what was important and meaningful to her, & in the end its all an accusation to the parents: What a crappy world you made, that the only way to be free was to die.
The assumption, of course, that you need to make to conclude that you can be “cut off”, is that you have your own separate identity and nature, that people and things have separate natures at all and aren’t all part of god & the same divine origin.
So the world can’t be a dead abandoned carcass devoid of divinity if it is all divinity & there is no distinction between divine and not divine. Or: You can’t be cut off from yourself because you are the universe / part of the body of god.
Note that the point here is not so much the idea that you are separate at all, (that’s rather associated with 5) but that you have a separate nature. (for example, divine or not)
He uses the mataphor of air in a baloon, and the lack of Holy Transparency is the idea that there is a baloon, whereas the lack of Holy Origin is the idea that the air in your baloon has some particular smell or color different from the other baloons.
There’s a funny little moment in the book where Almaas writes that if you could have separate natures that mean, in his thinking, that you came from separate origins/gods and “that cannot be, because then there would be ultimate division, and if there was ultimate division, spiritual work would be totally pointless”. It’s a nice, satisfying glipmse at what keeps him up at night, or at least what last remnants of fear even he couldn’t yet train himself out of.
There are of course spiritual beliefs that include ultimate distinction, such as Zoroastrianism and mainstream Christianity (which, as its factually practiced, is often more dualist than monotheist – there is good & bad, everything good comes from god & everything bad comes from the devil. There isn’t really a devil in Judaism, and the Islamic devil has a very different, much smaller role)
I’d also like him to define ‘ultimate’ for me. Cause he’s like, “yeah things are different but those differences are not ultimate”. Certainly you can turn reality so that it all being off the same stuff can be said in a way that it’s technically correct. It’s all excitations in quantum fields. You can also turn it so that really nothing really touches. What makes one of those ways of looking at it ‘ultimate’?
Cause, the idea of difference doesn’t come cause someone woke up on day & decide they’re more special than u but from a mode of perception where contrasts & differences are emphasized.
Who says that it’s not the difference that it’s real and the unity that’s illusory?
Or maybe both are just hopelessly biased lenses reflecting our inability to see reality other than through the flawed architecture of our wrinkly meat-computers & we don’t know what the effin world looks like.
That said, I have heard some 4s reporting that a turning point in their life was when it occurred to them to try and find traces of, or connections to the sublime & the beautiful in their everyday surroundings.
If you kneejerk assume what’s meaningful is ‘out there’, you might miss it when it’s in front of you. You might not want to define the meaningful & real (or yourself) too narrowly.
Though this is probably possible without immediately throwing all taste and discernment overboard.
It’s not a question of convincing yourself the shitty boring thing is actually great, but of being willing to see what genuinely is connected or relevant to what you personally consider meaningful – which is obviously going to differ by the individual.
For me personally – well, this is obviously not a ‘layer’ that I can always be conscious of all the time, but when you consider all the complicated biological machinery, mental mechanisms & particular experieces that make someone up, how incredibly unlikely it is to be sentient beings clinging to the surface of this little bubble, then that seemingly boring rando suddenly looks very different. I’m still going to prefer what I personally find interesting & resonant cause I gotta pick something and I only have 24 hours in a day so probably not gonna be friends with the boring rando and im still going to complain about everything that sucks because somebody should, but, its a difference if I see the random guy as boring to me subjectively, though technically a rare sentient creature of stardust, that if I see him as objectively a part of and a symbol for the lesser light-forsaken rot that consumes everything.
It’s probably going to change how I treat him.
I don’t think the rot is an illusion at all, so even if I believed in spirituality I would a more chaotic world than Almaas’s all-benevolent one, but even the carcass of rot is again just one perspective, even if its my ‘home base’ perspective. Some stuff is probably also good even if it’s not all stuff.

Type 5

So, you are a type 5 just minding your business, and then something goes really sideways. What’s your most likely response?
The text labels the experience as ‘deficient isolation’.
Basically a sense of being small, weak, frail, not enough, empty, impoverished, insubstantial and separated from all else as if by thick impenetrable walls or an insurmountable gulf across which any understanding is dubious at best.
You are stuck in a confusing place that you can’t make any sense of; Existence is understood as a rather flimsy, fragile, barely-there something; life as a laborious torment where one must constantly hold oneself up – and limited and insufficient as you are, you are absolutely not up to the task. You might sit there frozen in dread when you contemplate the insurmountable hurdles that you will be expected to cross.
If you understand your situation like that, there is only one reaction you can possibly have. You’re hopelessly outmatched, and only a fool would play when they cannot win.
Therefore the kneejerk response when something gets difficult is always to get away, to run, to hide away, to break off contact, to avoid it or avoid having to deal with it, to give it a wide, wide berth, to put some distance between yourself and the adversity in whatever way you can, if not by literally leaving then by finding something to preoccupy yourself with so that you have to experience as little of it as you can get away with.
Sometimes you see the tendency to retreated or the interests portrayed as some kind of preparation with the eventual goal to return, but that’s a misunderstanding; While individuals might research some things in advance before doing them that’s more a question of bracing to endure it.
The pursuits aren’t preparation for anything; They’re just what you have instead of what people would generally consider a life, somewhere to exist, something to fill your consciousness with.
There is not generally any great intention to ‘come back’ or do anything else of realistic practical nature.
I recall reading about an instance where Franz Kafka was asked something like, “So you don’t write to publish?” and his answer was, “No, I just do this to prove to myself that I am not altogether stupid.” Indeed a lot of what he produced only saw the light of day after his death.
So, that pretty much summarizes it.
Now, according to the perspective espoused in that book none of this makes sense, as it is based on the assumption that you are a separate being, separate from others, separate from the universe, separate from god, separate from everything – otherwise, it would not make sense to try and get away from the world, since that’s quite impossible if you are one with it.
Nor would it make sense to feel cut off or walled off in the first place; Your sense of experiencing yourself as flimsy is simply a consequence of defining yourself too narrowly and trying to exist on your own apart from god or the universe which you are irrevocably tied to, so you’d feel much more substantial and confident acting in the universe as just another part of it.
(Here we are treated to a ministry of truth esque rant about how real indepence is actually independence from the idea of wanting to be independent. That perfect independence is impossible may well be, same as there is no perfect anything; But you’re not going to get me to buy that total determinism is a good thing. Illusion or not, I still have the subjective experience of having to choose something I can’t just sit and wait for the universe to pick something. )
I get that technically all is made up of atoms & it is only our perception that divides it into discrete objects, and that there isn’t really a way to get away from reality if everything is reality.
I get that very well actually as I understand precisely how quickly my perceived intactness as an emergent system would be ended by the likes of worms, botflies or a bunch of stray shrapnel penetrating my silly little skull. Even a restricted little parcel of reality is full of inescapable awfulness.
That doesn’t change that people are separate from each other in the sense that they cannot read minds.
No one can really know anyone’s elses thoughts & feelings; Lots of ppl just don’t notice because they’re better at guessing other ppl’s contents than I am, but that doesn’t change that it remains a guess. A guess that often leads to presumptuous and cruel behavior whenever they don’t understand someone.
I think being aware of & respecting the differences between you & others is the beginning of all respect, and realizing that you don’t fucking “just know” and not everything is obvious is the first step to wisdom. What can you find out if you don’t think there is anything to find?
Reserving judgement when there’s not enough info to tell anything should be held up as a virtue.
That said, it certainly is true – and I have alas experienced the proof in this particular pudding for myself – that type 5 individuals tend to rate their abilities to sustain effort, endure stimulus, master unfamiliar situations and make themselves comprehensible to others as somewhat worse than it actually is.
One supposes that this works rather by the same principle as how a little child might come to avoid anything to do with ball games with a rather stronger aversion than is strictly merited after having been whacked in the face with a ball once too many.
Sometimes one can somewhat exposure-therapy onself into tolerating stuff if one can persist past the initial aversion.
Though this is quite different from the sometimes espoused claim that the limitations are completely illusory; Making sure to stay in the stretch zone rather than the panic zone and coming up with some system of concrete steps where even small increments constitute some progress (as something you can hold against the sense that its all a futile pointless waste) is actually a huge part of not quitting, in my experience, though I cannot be said to have it figured out by far.

Type 6

So the type 6 response to adversity tends to be a state of fearful insecurity.
You feel exposed, abandoned and scared of whatever might be coming at you from the outside world, but at the same time, you don’t trust yourself to be able to handle what might be coming at you.
You may wish that someone would hold you or comfort you, but at the same time, you doubt that this is really possible to obtain such comfort. Whatever help anybody offers you smells of self-serving reasons. But you don’t trust your own intentions either, your own thoughts, feelings and intuitions are suspect as well. You fear that you might have an ugly, monstrous nature deep down inside.
With nothing certain to rely on either within or without, you feel touchy, on-edge, confrontational, volatile.
You often hear the metaphor of balancing along an edge or lacking solid ground under your feet.
I’s wager that it’s probably the exact emotion described in Papa Roach’s “Gettin away with murder” or Linkin Park’s “One Step closer”.
The reaction, then, if you feel threatened, is to be on guard. To respond with heightened alertness & vigilance & stand ready to apply one of the four Fs as required.
The other types all more or less default to one or two of the responses, but 6s runs the whole gamut probably because they are the most in touch with their natural alarm responses.
They often have a level of heightened lartness going on, it doesn’t take much to set off a response, and they may often default to responsding with defensive suspicion and hostility when something goes wrong. A part of this suspicion is a kind of exaggerated scepticism that ends up testing things again & again even after they have been confirmed for the bajillionth time.
They try to guess what others are up to, but they are also suspicious and vigilant with regards to themselves, & may be inclined to beat themselves up or fear making mistakes.
The assumption you need to make for this fear to even make sense is that the world is dangerous, that is, that the world, and all the humans that are part of it including yourself, aren’t intrinsically good. If you knew it was intrinsically good, you would just trust it without fear, suspicion or defensive aggression, as you would just trust that whatever happens is for the best.
(I kid you not.)
This is equated with not recognizing that essence or divinity exists or the assumption that ego is all there is, with thinking that, for example, your parents aren’t being nice to you out of pure good but because they have reasons/causes such as obligation.
Here we get the obligatory esoteric riffing on ‘overly rationalistic’ worldviews, though Almaas distinguishes that lacking Holy Faith is not per se equivalent with not believing in god, as it is possible to be an atheist and still believe in the good in humanity.
He explains, however, that this faith is to come from direct experience of essence & the divine & not from belief, in that usual manner that spiritual types conveniently exempt themselves & their cherished spiritual experiences from the problem of perception.
Now, 6s probably notice more danger than the rest of us because they look for it. I can’t count the times that my sisters (who are 6s) alerted my mom or I that we were about to spill, drop or break something we were totally oblivious about. They did not imagine that, we did spill the darn sauce. The world is not so intrinsically good as to magically avoid food waste.
Unless we’re dealing with a very immature or downright paranoid individual, the dangers are often actually there.
At the same time, this looking for it can create an overemphasis or bias since they don’t look for not dangerous, perfectly fine, rainbow sparkly things.
It has also happened often that my sisters were fretting & nervous about an exam & worried if they would pass at all, and then they got an A or B on it, a discrepancy that can probably be explained by failing to feature in positive information.
Your noggin tracks negatives for free, which is already half the world (yay!), but it might pay & get you a more accurate picture if you make some conscious effort to notice good stuff also.

Type 7

When confronted with all things pear-shaped, the response, at least on the most immediate level, is to feel disoriented and lost.
Later on there might be this entire chain reaction involving mounting anxiety, restlessness and a whole lot of copium, but when the blow first connects, the answer is ‘What now? What do I do? Where do I go from here?’
Whatever happened was not what you expected or thought it would be. Maybe a door you had counted on staying open has now closed. Or maybe you’re just hurting and you don’t know what to do about it.
The reaction to this, then, is to think of something to do. To direct your own experience of life, either externally, by making plans and packing your day full of enjoyable experiences and thereby ensuring that you will not only have everything you need but also having plenty of extra options to spare, or internally, by thinking of an idea of what you want to be like and trying to nudge your feelings in a positive direction by thinking of reasons why things aren’t so bad.
Either you think up some solution to your problems, or you explain the problems away wholesale. Maybe all it takes is a little perspective shift.
Naturally this desire to direct your own experience might bring you into conflict with or friction against those who may want to restrict your freedom or limit your opinions, so another way of directing your experience is thinking of ways to charm or outfox them.
This might sound rather similar to the 4 reaction (perhaps accounting for some of the similarity between the types) but while the 4s control response is about knowing when & why the blow is coming, the 7s direction has a particular, optimal outcome in mind: You want the plan to ensure that you get what you want.
The assumption underlying this, as Almaas would have it, is that you can direct your life and have an independent plan for yourself.
You can’t, since there is only the one, godly plan – and in this he explictly includes the work of self-developement and how it cant be forced along some plan, goal or timeline and must simply be allowed to happen.
To this you might have a similar reply as the type 7 musician Tori Amos: ‘If the divine plan is perfection, maybe next I’ll give Judas a try’. She wrote that song while she was coping with the grief about a miscarriage.
The universe, if it makes sense to anthropomize it like this at all, frankly doesn’t know what the frick it’s doing.
There is probably some partial truth in that 7s can sometimes feel aimless or appear that way to others, or be over-focussed on maximizing their experience to a point where it may get in the way of taking it in.
I too would, to some extent, explain the reaction in terms of the 7s way of seeing the world – being aware of all the options both for what you can do & what you can be, that you would in theory have the potential to go/do be all those things, so how do you pick?
In a way, having a vivid imagination and being able to appreciate the potential in all the options makes this harder, cause you know many of them might be equally good… but there is only finite time, other limits that make it so you cant have them all, which you would also be well-aware of, and that’s where the fear comes in.
So you might end up flitting from option to option without fully squeezing the juice of any.
And if there’s no particular reason to pick one over the other, it can seem like it doesn’t matter which one you pick, like it’s all basically pointless and arbitrary.
As it was said in that one Doctor Who minisode, “If you turn the universe into your backyard, that’s all you have: A backyard.” The characters of Rick Sanchez or the Joker might be another example 7 brand of nihilism at its most destructive.
If it is all the same and nothing matters, there is really nothing else to do but to see how you can extract the most pleasure from whatever’s available.
In modern works the metaphor of infinite parallel universes is often used; In his own day, Goethe depicted his protagonist Faust as getting a second life by magic after considering his first one unhappily wasted & then trying his hand at many different pursuits, often leaving everything in ruins as a result of his selfishness, and yet it is the very tendency to strive for the ideal that is his saving grace in the end.
That being said, given how your average 7 sets themselves to experience & learn a lot more than the general population, I wouldn’t say the aim to plan & ensure that you have a quality experience here on earth is futile – I could stand to have more of that myself.
Just be mindful of the earthly limitations that apply – you cannot always direct everything to the better, sometimes bad stuff just happens, and sometimes you might be happier if you just yourself enjoy what is there rather than thinking how it could be better.

Hello all! As the post title states, I am a 30 year old male looking for a female friend. I am a nerdy, but outdoorsy guy who also loves sports. I'm big into fishing and gardening, but I also love board games and sci-fi movies and tv shows. If you are also nerdy and looking for a daily chat buddy to see where it goes to, please shoot me a DM! I'm up late most nights but if I don't respond, I will as soon as I get up! I hope to hear from you soon so we can get to know each other!

This is the best tl;dr I could make, original reduced by 88%. (I'm a bot)

Prime Minister Denys Shmyhal has cited Ukraine's "Own example" of confiscating sovereign and private Russian assets within its borders to urge Kyiv's allies to do the same and contribute to a war recovery effort estimated to cost over $700 billion.
Ukraine used this mechanism last May for what are, to date, its only confiscations of Russian state-owned assets: the takeovers of Prominvestbank, which is owned by the state development finance organization VEB.RF, and that of the International Reserve Bank, owned by Sberbank, the Russian government-run savings bank.
Early last August, the Cabinet of Ministers approved the confiscation of the remaining 903 Russian state-owned assets in Ukraine and submitted the document for the RNBO's approval.
Presidential decrees prime the next step in the process: a petition by the Justice Ministry to the High Anti-Corruption Court for the confiscation of Russian assets.
Since June 2022, the court has issued 13 rulings for the confiscation of Russian assets.
Ocean Plaza, Ltd. The government contends that Arkady Rotenberg, a close friend of Russian President Vladimir Putin and the builder of the bridge linking Ukraine's Russian-occupied Crimean Peninsula to Russia, transferred funds from this Kyiv shopping and entertainment complex, which he owns via offshore companies, to purchase shares in two Russian military contractors before the war.

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oki so I'm a beginner in gardening and I wanted to make homemade fertilizer. I took some of our garden weeds and put them in jars of water, and also put them in mason jars with the lids on. I just checked up on them 2 days later and the jars that were full of weeds were fizzing. I have shaken them up before. it smells awful, and if I tighten one of them up again the pressure builds up faster than in the other one idk what's happening help

Eina broke through the surface of the water, barely able see for the mist clogging up her mask and the wide pitch-black cavern gaping in front of her, dimly lit by their headtorches. After a handful of futile attempts to wipe down her goggles, she ripped it off and clipped the damned thing onto her belt. Good timing too, considering the razor tentacle whipping out of the water towards her jugular. She threw herself aside, grazing her elbow on the cave wall and giving what she hoped would come across as a warning shout but likely was more of a frightened yelp.
Her squad leaped into action, Rum throwing a patronising arm over her shoulder and forcing her into a sprint. Marrow let loose a handful of blind blaster shots into the darkness.
“While I would rather you be fish food than me, Marrow, I suggest less shooting and more running,” Kystagg said with a grimace, already pulling ahead of the pack.
Eina did not dare spare a glance back to see what was chasing the four of them, she’d have plenty of time to do that later when she was digesting inside its stomach if she got caught. Or stomachs…
That cheery thought was chased by a snap at her squadmate, “Kystagg, would you be a dear and get those fucking lights on?”.
She answered by the furious but futile flicking of a switch. Darkness remained.
Eina pressed forward, blindly willing herself forward. Engulfing darkness, scrambling blind against a cave wall, hyperventilating over comms and some giant fuck-off monster at their heels. Not quite what she had in mind when she signed up to become a bounty-hunter but life was full of little surprises. Rarely good ones, in her experience.
The scrape of chitin on rock some way overhead alerted her to the fact that a) the whatever-the-fuck was closing on them and b) the cavern had gotten bigger. Eina broke her attention from the tiny spot of light illuminated in front of her and couldn’t help sparing a glance into the darkness, though it was as useless as she had anticipated. She turned back only to launch herself out of the path of a sweeping tentacle. Her torchlight rested on it just long enough to illuminate the glass-like armour, a hint of what looked like engravings or hieroglyphs scrawled onto the flesh beneath the crystal. They were in the right place then.
A throaty howl echoed from in front and Eina had trouble telling whether it was Kystagg or whatever scrabble of winged creatures that had descended upon her. A clatter. She had dropped it. Shit.
Marrow let out a long string of rare and exotic curses as he swiveled tried the age old tactic of spraying uselessly into the darkness again. Miraculously, it had the same effect as before. Jack shit.
Eina swung her headtorch around wildly, praying that she could see the lightswitch ahead of her but not daring to drop the pace. Scrambling blindly into the darkness, the hands of her wetsuit grasped at loose stone as she felt her way forward. Something slimed into her grip and she suppressed the urge to scream. She’d missed the switch. Hadn’t she?
There. A brief glance to her side and her headtorch light glinted from a small metal ball.
Guess it was all down to her again, but that was hardly anything new. She threw herself off the wall and rolled laterally onto the lightswitch, snatching it into her grip.
A growl emanated from the blackness behind her and she felt the air crunch as a tentacle missed her by an inch. Giving the silver ball a shake and damning the thing to every hell she could think of she pressed it.
The cavern burst into a brilliant golden glow, bathing ancient rose walls, littered with carvings, melting with time. Hieroglyphs matching the one scratched into the creature’s flesh adorned every wall. Dark openings lined every level of rock, the ancient city still watching out on the action below. Had it not been for the present circumstances, even Eina might have been impressed. The creature thrashed around temporarily blinded, launching out an array of untargeted attacks. Eina did not wait about for it to regain its senses and renewed her effort to catch up with the rest of the group.
Crack. Something latched itself around Eina’s ankle. The world fell beneath her as she crunched onto the tiled cave floor. She was tugged back agonizingly quickly, but she had enough wherewithal to whip her machete from its guard and hack into flesh. It took a couple of swings to free herself from the diamond incrusted whip, but it broke with a moan.
Eina wheeled round to face the beast and immediately wished she hadn’t. In the light, the creature did not look to dissimilar to a slug, if said slug was as big as a small spacecraft; was suspended by an uncountable number of crystalline crab-like legs; and was swaddled in a mass of mucus-dripping tentacles that occasionally lashed out violently from its crystalline chassis. The markings on its pale white skin had become all the more clearer in the artificial light, identical to the script that plastered every stone and statue in the cavern. Another defining characteristic which differentiated the beast from a garden-variety slug was the unclosing, gaping maw lined with a ring of eyeballs and brimming with rows upon rows of small teeth and Fizzments, various previous meals in various states of digestion and decomposition still clinging around its throat. Charming.
A small opening jutted out from beneath a particularly peeved looking old king with half an arm lying it his feet. “Over there”, Marrow said, redundantly, but the party had already began to bolt for the hole. The scraping of glass legs on the cave floor and a loud crash behind her made her all too aware that the beast had regained its senses.
From some way ahead, Kystagg was as witty as ever, “Are you done seeing the sights now Eina, or would you like us to wait for you in the shuttle?”
Eina ducked beneath another jagged glass tip of the tentacles, “You know, I think I’ve had my share of excitement for a day. Let’s get what we came for and get out of here”. She considered taking a few more pot shots at the thing now that it was in the light but had no idea where she had to shoot it to make it bleed and thought better of it.
As Eina burst through the opening and into the darkness, Rum let out an audible sigh, “You’re still focused on picking up that tech even if it means you’re lunch?”
Eina was suddenly serious, “Not one of you is leaving this shit-hole planet until I get it, understand?” she said roughly. Eina pretended she didn’t hear Rum’s muttered response and began to push on into the cave system, the wide street now substituted for a suffocating cavern. Even Eina had to crook her neck to avoid the ceiling, Rum was practically on all fours at points.
The adrenaline had abandoned Eina and left her with an oppressive, muggy air baking down on her and a desparation for a fresh breeze. Most of the squad had set aside their masks and zipped down their wetsuits, with the exception of Rum, who was as buttoned up as ever. No one felt much like talking, let alone trying to lighten the mood after that snide remark. Great job leading the team, Captain.
Venus trotted alongside her, wearing a summer dress and loose hanging blonde hair. “Well I for one believe in you captain”, her eyes twinkled even in the low light as she performed a mock salute with the grace and poise of a practiced militiawoman. Hearing voices and seeing ghosts now Eina. Always a good sign of a well adjusted individual, capable of leading a team.
Eina noticed Kystagg glance down at the radar on her wrist for the first time since entering these caves.
“We’re well off course, captain, but there should still be a route through that can get us to the bounty and through the ancient waterworks to avoid… whatever the hell that thing was, if these old maps are anything to go by,”
“The precursors were not exactly ones to skimp on details,” Rum said, “if the cave is intact then the map is correct,”
The party came to an abrupt halt as Marrow let out a sigh, “Funny story on that one chief,”
“Shite. Path to the tech is blocked, the only route forward takes us straight into the waterworks. There’ll be no way from there but open ocean.” Kystagg muttered.
Eina kicked a rock and immediately regretted it. She slumped down and thought.
Marrow started to placate her but Rum knew better than to try, “I don’t see any other option, we can’t go backwards. We still have a nice haul of artefacts we can sling from the dive down…”
“We go back,” Eina said.
Every other member of the team had various methods of expressing their disapproval. Kystagg shouted a few choice words; Marrow looked on the verge of tears and Rum just shook his head.
“We go back. Marrow and I will take on the beast while the two of you plant charges at the waterworks. After that we just have to survive the flood, make our way to the emptied waterworks and we’re out and a million marks richer each.”
“You’ll bring the whole place down on us, you mad bitch,” Marrow started, incredulously before catching Rum’s overprotective glare. She always hated when he did that.
“A controlled charge should break down enough of the barriers without compromising the integrity of the structure.”
“You’ll destroy countless ancient monuments, some of this city has been standing for thousands of years,” Rum said, rubbing his forehead in exasperation.
“Cry about it to your brimming bank account when we bring back this tech to the mob. Or to your broken knee caps and missing teeth if we return empty handed. We go back.”
“I can’t let you go. I should be the one to…” Kystagg began before realising the answer to her own comment and thinking better of it. “What I mean to say is, good luck captain”.

Rock and Roll Experience states,
On Eddie Trunk today, Ace Frehley stated that he has not received any offers to perform at the last 2 KISS Madison Square Garden shows & that if Gene Simmons & Paul Stanley want him onstage they better have "Deep Pockets" because he wants a big payday. Ace stated that Gene has been saying in the press that Ace is invited to play with KISS but no offers have been made, so Ace & Peter will not be at the final 2 KISS shows Ace also stated that Vinnie "Ankh Warrior " Vincent looks like an old woman now & that he's giving Paul Stanley 7 days to issue an apology for his comments on The Howard Stern Show. If there is no apology Ace plans to go back on Trunks show & dish dirt about KISS that no one knows. He stated that there have been numerous lawsuits against Gene by tons of women. Ace also admitted to wearing a wig these days & that all of the guys in KISS wear wigs.