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NBA Owners' net worth (Dan Gilbert's net worth rose from $7.5 billion to $45.3 billion this year)
...After his company went public. I had to include that in the title. Maybe now he won't be such a cheap bastard with his GMs. I had no idea Gilbert was now the second richest owner in the league. Which made me wonder what other owners are worth (the title of this post was almost "why is Tilman Fertitta such a cheap bastard while Joe Lacob spends money like he thinks the shit's gonna rot?"). Which brings us to this handy Forbes list from March: 1. Steve Ballmer (Los Angeles Clippers): $51.4 billion Ballmer scored a huge win this week for his dream of building a new arena. He bought the Forum for $400 million from the Madison Square Garden Company, which tried to block a new Clippers arena near the Forum in Inglewood, California. 2. Philip Anschutz (Los Angeles Lakers): $11.2 billion Anschutz owns one-third of the Lakers, plus the arena in which they play, the Staples Center, in addition to the NHL’s Kings. \For those wondering, it's hard to find a reliable source on Jeanie's net worth but according to unreliable sources it's in the ballpark of $500 million* 3.Stanley Kroenke (Denver Nuggets): $10 billion The real estate and sports mogul owns teams in the NBA, the NHL, the NFL, MLS and the Premier League. 4.Joseph Tsai (Brooklyn Nets): $9.9 billion The cofounder of Alibaba Group completed his purchase of the Nets last year for $2.3 billion and bought the Barclays Center for an additional $1 billion. 5. Robert Pera (Memphis Grizzlies): $7.1 billion Pera owns nearly three-quarters of wireless equipment maker Ubiquiti Networks. He was the lead investor in the Grizzlies purchase in 2012. 6. Daniel Gilbert (Cleveland Cavaliers): $6.2 billion Gilbert made his first fortune from Quicken Loans, the largest online mortgage lender, which he cofounded in 1985 at 22 years old.*List is from March, before the IPO 7. Tom Gores (Detroit Pistons): $5.7 billion Gores and his brother Alec are both private equity billionaires. The Pistons opened a new $90 million headquarters and training facility in September. 8. Micky Arison (Miami Heat): $5.3 billion Arison’s net worth plummeted 33% over the past six weeks with the collapse in the stock price of Carnival Corp. The world’s largest cruise ship operator was founded by Arison’s father in 1972. 9. Tilman Fertitta (Houston Rockets): $4.4 billion Fertitta furloughed roughly 40,000 employees at his casino and restaurant empire to curb the economic impact caused by coronavirus-induced shutdowns. His fortune is derived from his ownership of the Golden Nugget Casinos and Landry’s, a Texas-based restaurant and entertainment company. 10. Mark Cuban (Dallas Mavericks): $4.3 billion Cuban was one of the first sports team owners to commit to paying hourly arena workers for games missed during the coronavirus crisis. He’s invested more than $20 million as a “shark” on ABC’s popular Shark Tank show. 11. Joshua Harris (Philadelphia 76ers): $3.7 billion Harris cofounded private equity powerhouse Apollo Global Management in 1990 with fellow billionaires Leon Black and Marc Rowan. He remains a managing director there. 12. Gayle Benson (New Orleans Pelicans): $3.2 billion Benson inherited the Pelicans and the NFL’s Saints when her husband, Tom, died in 2018. 13. Glen Taylor (Minnesota Timberwolves): $2.8 billion His printing firm, Taylor Corp., generates more than $2 billion in revenue annually. Taylor also owns stakes in Minnesota’s MLS and WNBA teams. 14. Herb Simon (Indiana Pacers): $2.6 billion The real estate mogul bought the Pacers with his since-deceased brother, Melvin, in 1983, for $10.5 million. Simon Property Group is one of the world’s largest real estate investment trusts, with 206 properties in the U.S. 15.Antony Ressler (Atlanta Hawks): $2.4 billion Ressler cofounded private equity firm Ares Management in 1997. He owns a small piece of the Milwaukee Brewers, in addition to his controlling stake in the Hawks. 16. Michael Jordan (Charlotte Hornets): $2.1 billion The NBA’s GOAT sold a minority stake in the Hornets in September in a deal that valued the team at $1.5 billion. Nike pays Jordan more than $100 million annuallybased on growing sales for the company’s Jordan Brand. 17. Marc Lasry (Milwaukee Bucks): $1.8 billion Lasry, a hedge fund titan, joined Wes Edens to buy the Bucks in 2014 for $550 million. He was born in Morocco and moved to the U.S. at age 7 with his family. 18. Gail Miller (Utah Jazz): $1.7 billion Miller transferred ownership of the Jazz in 2017 to a family legacy trust to deter her heirs from selling or moving the team. Gail and her since-deceased husband, Larry, bought the team for $22 million in 1986. 19. Jerry Reinsdorf (Chicago Bulls): $1.5 billion Reinsdorf led a group of investors who bought a controlling stake in the Bulls for $9.2 million in 1985. Good timing. It was one year after the team drafted Michael Jordan, who led the Bulls to six NBA titles. The team is now worth $3.2 billion. 20. Theodore Leonsis (Washington Wizards): $1.4 billion Leonsis initially built his fortune as a senior executive at AOL, before investing in sports teams like the Wizards and the NHL’s Capitals. *Not included on the list but googled for your edification: DeVos Family (Magic): $5.4 billion James Dolan (Knicks): $2 billion Joe Lacob (Warriors): $1.2 billion Vivek Randive (Kings): $700 million Robert Sarver (Suns): $400 million Jody Allen (Trail Blazers): The sister of Microsoft cofounder, Paul G. Allen, took control of the team after his death. At the time her brother was worth $20 billion though he intended to give most of his fortune away... Boston Basketball Partners LLC (Celtics): An American local private investment group formed to purchase the Boston Celtics Maple Leaf Sports & Entertainment (Raptors): The Raptors are a subsidiary of MLSE The Professional Basketball Club, LLC (Thunder): A group of OKC businessmen "who represent a wide variety of local and national business interests" owns the Thunder Spurs Sports & Entertainment LLC (Spurs): An American sports & entertainment organization, based in San Antonio, Texas owns the San Antonio Spurs
But after the ruling, the plaintiffs identified documents - 55 so far - that should have been turned over to them but never were. Last month the court ordered the state to turn over the computers so the plaintiffs could forensically examine them because the judges found "some form of 'fraud, misrepresentation, or misconduct' likely occurred."
"With all due deference to separation of powers, last week the Supreme Court reversed a century of law that I believe will open the floodgates for special interests -- including foreign corporations -- to spend without limit in our elections," Obama told a packed House of Representatives chamber Wednesday night. "I don't think American elections should be bankrolled by America's most powerful interests, or worse, by foreign entities. They should be decided by the American people. And I'd urge Democrats and Republicans to pass a bill that helps to correct some of these problems."
You start out in 1954 by saying, “Nigger, nigger, nigger.” By 1968 you can’t say “nigger”—that hurts you, backfires. So you say stuff like, uh, forced busing, states’ rights, and all that stuff, and you’re getting so abstract. Now, you’re talking about cutting taxes, and all these things you’re talking about are totally economic things and a byproduct of them is, blacks get hurt worse than whites.… “We want to cut this,” is much more abstract than even the busing thing, uh, and a hell of a lot more abstract than “Nigger, nigger.”--Lee Atwater, former RNC Chairman, adviser to Reagan and HW Bush Administrations, close acquaintance to Karl Rove
"With all due deference to separation of powers, last week the Supreme Court reversed a century of law that I believe will open the floodgates for special interests -- including foreign corporations -- to spend without limit in our elections," Obama told a packed House of Representatives chamber Wednesday night. "I don't think American elections should be bankrolled by America's most powerful interests, or worse, by foreign entities. They should be decided by the American people. And I'd urge Democrats and Republicans to pass a bill that helps to correct some of these problems." Alito, part of the court's conservative majority, could be seen apparently frowning and quietly mouthing the words "not true."Via CNN, 2010
Just earlier in the week, Biden's campaign affirmed the candidate's support for the ban, setting off criticism from abortion rights supporters, who called on Biden to reverse his long-held position.
Long before Trump ran for the White House, Justice Kennedy’s son, Justin, worked as an investment banker at Deutsche. Enrich describes how he developed a relationship with Trump, his daughter Ivanka and son-in-law Jared Kushner, helping to finance real-estate deals no other bank would touch because of Trump’s record of failing to pay his debts to lenders, contractors and business partners. ... Justin Kennedy was part of the US branch of Deutsche Bank from 1998 to 2009. Drawn to Trump’s risk-taking and glamour, he became a Trump confidant, sitting with the real estate impresario at the US Open tennis or in Manhattan nightclubs, and chaperoning huge loans to finance Trump’s real estate spending sprees. Kennedy, who ran the bank’s commercial real-estate team, continued to lend to Trump even though Deutsche clients had suffered severe losses when Trump’s casino business collapsed and he declared bankruptcy.
“It may not be good for America, but it’s damn good for CBS,” Leslie Moonves, chairman of CBS, said of the Trump phenomenon in March, according to the Hollywood Reporter.
I must make two honest confessions to you, my Christian and Jewish brothers. First, I must confess that over the past few years I have been gravely disappointed with the white moderate. I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro's great stumbling block in his stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen's Counciler or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate, who is more devoted to "order" than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice; who constantly says: "I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I cannot agree with your methods of direct action"; who paternalistically believes he can set the timetable for another man's freedom; who lives by a mythical concept of time and who constantly advises the Negro to wait for a "more convenient season." Shallow understanding from people of good will is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection. "Letter from a Birmingham Jail, MLK Jr."
In the transcript published by the Post, (Kevin) McCarthy speculates that the Russians hacked the Democratic National Committee’s computers and, in the process, discovered whatever opposition-research materials the Democrats had gathered on Trump. “There’s two people I think Putin pays: Rohrabacher and Trump,” (Kevin) McCarthy said, according to Entous, a superb reporter who heard a tape recording of the colloquy. “Swear to God.” In the Post piece, McCarthy’s remark is met with laughter, and Ryan cautions his colleagues, “This is an off the record . . . No leaks! . . . All right?”
I live in a small mining town in the mountains of Colorado. Someone is building a massive casino nearby, Pictures Included
I grew up in a small mountain town named Eureka. It was founded in the late 1800s during the gold rush, but after the mines dried up the town began its slow descent into decay. Half the houses are empty or abandoned now. You can see a picture of the kind of houses here in Eureka: First house Second house When a massive construction project began nearby, it was the talk of the town for weeks. Why would they build something in a sleepy dying town like Eureka? It wasn’t until my sister Selene talked to a few construction workers that we discovered they were building a casino. A casino up in the mountains, over two hours away from Denver. None of us could understand why they’d chosen here of all places. After a few months of work, the casino was done. I took a picture of the town with the completed casino in the background to the right. The ten-story-structure sticks out like a sore thumb off in the distance. Town+Casino After the casino opened, they hired a few dozen members of the town, offering high paying jobs to work as dealers or cleaning staff. I was already employed as a firefighter, but my sister Selene got a job as a blackjack dealer. She’s a widow with two young kids, so the paycheck was a real lifesaver. Still, something about the situation seemed too good to be true. The jobs over there paid far too well, and the management was far too accommodating. The fire station where I work is located high on a hill overlooking the town, so I began watching the casino from a distance each day. I had initially thought that the casino was located in a terrible location, but I was apparently wrong. True, Eureka was hours from any major city, but despite that, a bus full of people arrived every morning and left every evening. One night I was over at my parent’s house and had dinner with Selene and her kids. I asked her about her experience as a dealer. “It’s Ok,” she said. “Just a little boring I guess.” “Boring?” I asked. “I’m surprised you don’t have your hands full.” “Why’s that?” she asked. “It’s like you said, Eureka’s too small. I never have people playing cards. The casino is almost always completely empty.” I wasn’t sure what to make of that. If the place was always empty, what happened to the people who I’d seen arriving on buses? “I’ve been keeping an eye on the building,” I said. “A bus full of people typically arrives around 9 AM every day.” “Really?” she asked, looking confused. “If that’s true, I’ve never seen them. “I can see it from the fire station,” I said. “If you head out for a smoke break at 9 AM, you’ll probably see them arriving.” “Interesting,” she said. “I’ll do that. If they’re being processed for their organs or something, I’ll let you know.” She laughed. “Har har,” I said sarcastically. The next night she sent me a text calling me over. When I arrived, she was nearly breathless with excitement. “Orin, You were right,” she said. “A big group of people did arrive, but they didn’t walk into my part of the casino. Instead, they all walked into an elevator at the back of the building. I’m not sure where that goes.” She looked thoughtful. “It was weird. They looked… How can I say it? Desperate? Something about the whole situation was very off. I’m gonna check out the elevator tomorrow.” I told her to be careful, though, to be honest, I was excited to hear about what she discovered. When I visited my parent’s house the next night, I found her two kids there alone. They told me that Selene had never returned from work. I called all her friends, then all our neighbors, but no one had seen her since she left for work that morning. Our conversations regarding the casino flooded my mind, then a plan began to form. Early the next morning I walked across town in my nicest pair of jeans and a button-up shirt. I pushed through the door to the casino and saw that Selene wasn’t lying. The place was all but deserted. Three dozen slot machines crowded the walls surrounding a few tables interspersed throughout the floor of the casino. The only players in the whole building were Bob and Donald, two locals. I walked up to a nearby table where Bridget, a girl I’d gone to high school with, was shuffling cards. She broke into a grin when she saw me. “Hey Orin, you here for a few rounds of blackjack?” “I wish,” I said. “No, I’m here to ask about Selene. She never made it home last night.” Bridget’s expression darkened. “Really? Have you asked around?” “I already called around. Have you seen her?” She shook her head. “No, our schedules rarely line up. I’ll be sure to let you know if I--” Her eyes focused on something behind me, and she cut herself off. I turned around to see the casino’s pit boss watching us both. He was a tall thin man in an impeccably clean black suit. When I turned back towards Bridget, she was looking down at the table and shuffling cards absent-mindedly. “Well, if you hear anything, let me know,” I said. She nodded, so I turned around and headed for the pit boss. I stuck out my hand. The temperature of his hand was so hot that I had to pull my hand away after a few seconds. “Have… have you seen my sister Selene?” I asked. “She hasn’t been seen since her shift here yesterday.” He smiled. “Sir, this floor is for players. You’re more than welcome to head to the tellers for chips, but barring that I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave.” I stared at him for a long second before stalking towards the door. When I looked back, he was talking with Bridget. I checked my watch. 8:55 AM, just as I’d planned. I walked around the back of the building and waited as the morning bus pulled around the building. I waited for the telltale hiss of the opening doors and the sound of people descending before I rounded the corner and joined the crowd. None of them paid any particular attention to me as I walked with them into the casino. The crowd walked through a side door down a hallway to an elevator. Small groups of people entered the elevator as the rest of us waited for our turn. I shot a glance at the casino patrons, surprised at their diversity. There seemed to be people from all different countries and ethnicities. I heard one speaking Japanese and another speaking what sounded like an African language. My turn came along with a few other patrons in the elevator. A sickly woman hobbled into the elevator beside me carrying an IV that was still connected to one of her veins. We piled in and rode up to the top. The elevator rose for a few long seconds. I wasn’t sure what I would find, but I steeled myself for something horrible. The elevator’s speaker let out a TING, then the doors opened. We all walked out onto what looked like a standard casino. Another few dozen slot machines ringed the walls, but on this floor, they were almost all occupied by customers. I took in the scene, confused at why they’d have a ground floor that was almost completely empty when this place was almost-- Selene was dealing cards at a nearby table. I jogged over and sat down at an open seat. None of the players around me paid me much attention. “Selene!” I said. “Are you OK? Did you spend the night here last night?” Her eyes were glassy and confused. She looked up at me with a dumb expression and didn’t respond to my question. “Selene?” I asked. “What’s your bet?” she asked me. “This table is for blackjack players only.” “I…” I trailed off, looking at the players around me. None of them were betting with chips of any kind. “What’s the minimum bet?” I asked. “Three years,” she responded. “Three years then,” I said, not knowing what that referred to. Selene nodded, then began dealing cards. I shot a look down at my hand. King and a 9. Selene dealt out cards for herself, showing a 9. I stood, then leaned forward again. “Should I call the police? Are you--” “Congratulations,” she said tonelessly. An almost impossibly warm hand grabbed my shoulder. I spun to see the pit boss I’d spoken to earlier. He gave an impressed smile. “Orin, was it? I’m impressed, truly. Would you mind if I had a word with you?” I shot a look back at Selene who was dealing the next round of cards. Then I got to my feet, balling my hands into fists. “What did you do to her?” The pit boss clasped his hands behind his back. “Nothing more, and nothing less than what I’m going to do to you. That is, offer you the chance to play.” “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” The pit boss nodded his head towards a nearby slot machine. A woman in a wheelchair pulled a lever and watched the flashing numbers spin. They exploded in a cacophony of sirens and flashing lights. “WINNER WINNER WINNER!” The machine screeched. The woman in the wheelchair put her feet on the ground and stood up on a pair of wobbly legs that had clearly never been used before. “As in any other casino,” the pit boss said, “you must wager for the chance to win.” “She... won the use of her legs?” I asked, feeling light-headed. “Wait,” I said. “I played blackjack just now. ‘Three years,’ Selene told me. What does ‘three years’ mean?” I asked. “Three years of life, of course. Did you win?” My mouth felt dry. “I-- Yes, I won.” He smiled warmly. “Congratulations. I hope you enjoy them. I can tell you from personal experience that watching the decades pass is a bore. Give it some time and you’ll be back to spend them.” I watched the pit boss’s face. He couldn’t have been more than a few years older than me, and I was in my early thirties. I looked around at the casino. No one was playing with chips of any kind. “So what?” I asked. “I won years of life. That woman won the use of her legs. What else can a person win here?” “Oh, almost anything. They can win almost anything you can imagine.” A cold feeling settled in my stomach. “And what do they wager?” His eyes flashed with greed. “Almost anything. They can wager almost anything you can possibly imagine. Anything equal in value to the item they want in return.” He nodded towards a nearby roulette table. A man stood by the table, cradling his hands. “Another finger,” he called out. He only had three fingers remaining on his left hand. As I watched, the ball came to a stop, and another finger disappeared from his left hand. The pit boss extended his hands. “Feel free to try any of our games. Bet and win whatever you’d like.” He reached out and snatched my hand. A feeling of intense warmth passed up my arm to my chest. “There,” he said. “I’ve even given you some house money to get you started. An extra decade of life, on me.” I ripped my hand away, staring at him in horror. Then I looked back at Selene. Something clicked in my mind. “You offered her the chance to play. What did she want?” I asked. “Her husband,” the pit boss said. “Quite the sad story. He died two years ago. She wanted him brought back to her.” “What did she wager?” I asked. “She wanted the chance to win a soul, the most valuable object in existence. I’m sure you can imagine what she needed to wager for the chance to win it. What she wagered is unimportant. The important question is: What do you want, Orin?” I stared at Selene with a flat expression. “I’m sure you can imagine.” His eyes flashed with greed again. “How wonderful. The casino could always make use of another dealer. Feel free to make your wager at any one of our games; I’ll be eagerly awaiting the results of your night. Oh, and do take advantage of our waitresses. We always supply food and drink for ‘high rollers’.” He walked away. I spent the next few hours trying to decide which game to play. I was going to be wagering my soul, so I wanted the highest chance possible. Slots and roulette were out. I’d done some reading online about counting cards, so I figured that blackjack gave me the best odds. I walked up to Selene’s table and sat down. “Bet?” she asked with that same toneless voice. “Three years,” I said. I spent the next hour or so doing my best to remember how to count cards. I knew that low cards added one to my count and high cards decreased it by one, but the casino used three decks. I had read something about how that was supposed to change my calculation, but I couldn’t quite remember how. Every time I won a hand, I cursed myself for not putting everything on the line. Every time I lost, I breathed a prayer of thanks that I’d waited. And all the while, I kept track of the count. I had lost fifteen years of life when the count finally reached +5. “Bet?” Selene asked. “I wager my soul so you can be free,” I said. The table around me fell silent. Selene’s eyes flickered, but she showed no other emotion as she dealt the cards. I watched my first card, punching the air in excitement when I saw a Jack. My excitement turned to ash when my second card was a four. Fourteen. I looked at her hand. One card was facedown, but the faceup card was a King. I swore loudly, staring down at my hands. “Hit?” she asked. The entire table was silently watching me. “Hit,” I said, not looking down. The table erupted in cheers. I looked down to see a 7 atop my two other cards. 21. Blackjack. I looked at Selene who flipped over her facedown card to reveal a 9. 19. I won. The glassy look left her eyes immediately. She looked around in surprise, then her eyes locked on mine. “Orin?” she asked, then almost immediately began to cry. The entire casino broke out in cheers. I grabbed her hand and headed for the elevator. The doors had begun to close when the pit boss reached out with a hand to stop them. “Congratulations,” he said, beaming. He seemed to be honestly excited. “Shouldn’t you be upset?” I asked. “Not at all. Casinos love it when we have big winners. It inspires the other players to make larger bets. I imagine I’ll gain two or three dealers before the night is through from your performance.” “Great,” I said flatly. “Now let us go.” “Not yet,” he said. “You didn’t just win, Orin. You got a blackjack. And blackjack pays out 1.5 times your bet. You won your sister’s soul and more.” I stared, not sure what to say. “What are you saying? I won half a soul extra?” The pit boss grinned wildly. “Just remember what I said. You’ll find living for decades and decades to be a boring experience. After a few centuries, you’ll be back to gamble that half a soul away. Congratulations!” He removed his hand, and the elevator doors slammed shut. I helped Selene back to her house. Her children were relieved. I watched them cry, then moved into the kitchen to start making dinner. It’s been a few days since that experience. The casino is still out there, and buses full of people still arrive. I… I cut my hand pretty bad a few days later. When I checked it an hour later, it had already healed, no scar or anything. I’m not sure exactly what I won at that casino, but there’s no way I’m ever going back. X
A series of trips to Las Vegas by September 11 hijackers became the object of the largest investigation in the city. The reason behind these trips remains a mystery.
On September 11 of 2001, 19 men hijacked four planes and crashed them into the World Trade Center, the Pentagon and into an open field in Shanksville PA. These men were al-Qaeda terrorists doing the deeds in the name of a holy war against the West and not much about the attack remains a mystery unless you subscribe to the inside job theory, which isn't my case. What authorities haven't been able to explain is the hijackers' several trips to Las Vegas despite what has been dubbed to be the broadest investigation in city. All these trips happened within a few months before the attacks, but the men behind them left very little evidence of their activities in the area. TIMELINE May 24 - Marwan Al-Shehhi, the pilot who crashed the United Airlines Flight 175 into the South Towers of the WTC, arrived to Las Vegas from San Francisco and rented a room at Travelodge as a walk in customer. Once there, he called eight other motels. May 25 - Al-Shehhi walked in the St. Luis Manor, a hotel that wasn't on the call list. At 12:52 pm, he rented a different car, but didn't return the first car until 3:58pm. The unaccounted mileage in both vehicles summed up to 29 miles. FBI believes that these unusual patterns were a conscious attempt to avoid detection. May 27 - Al-Shehhi made it to New York. June 7 - Ziad Jarrah, pilot of the United Airlines 93 that crashed in Shanskville while on its way to the Capitol Building, arrived to Las Vegas and rented a car at 3:13 pm. He was accompanied by an unidentified man described as "middle eastern looking". When Jarrah asked for directions to Circus Circus Hotel and Casino, the a rent-a-car employee tried to give him an answer but was interrupted by the unidentified man who suggested another route. The man's knowledge of the address suggests that he was familiar with the area or that he had been in Las Vegas before. June 10 - Jarrah took a flight to the Baltimore Washington International Airport leaving his rented car with a mileage exceeding 200 miles and no trace of his Las Vegas whereabouts . June 28 - Mohamed Atta, pilot of American Airlines Flight 11 that crashed into the North Tower of WTC and leader of the hijackers, arrived to Las Vegas at 2:41 pm and rented a car at 4:25 pm. At 6:40 pm Atta established an account at Cyberzone internet café and used the computer for one hour and thirty five minutes. June 29 - Atta checked into Econo Lodge Motel at 1:01 pm. He logged in at Cyberzone again at 2:21 and 6:21 pm. Once done, the FBI believes he went back to his hotel. June 30 - Atta accessed his Cyberzone accounts at 1:56 pm, 6:30 pm and 9:33 pm. The mileage analysis indicated that he returned to his hotel afterwards. This day as well as the day before, Atta had placed several call to Al-Shehhi as well as to two different number in Houston, TX. One number was unassigned and the other one belonged to a mobile salesman. July 1 - Atta returned his rented vehicle at the airport at 5:12 am and took a flight to New York that connected in Denver. The vehicle had 73 unaccounted miles of usage which the FBI believes would cover a round trip to the Hoover Dam. July 31 - Waleed al-Shehri, hijacker of the Flight 11, took a flight from San Francisco to Las Vegas where he stayed for 45 minutes while waiting for another flight to Miami. It is unclear to me whether this was a tactical flight - the hijackers were believed to take flights to study their trajectory as well as entrance to the cockpit-, or just a connection. August 13 - Hani Hanjour and Nawaf al-Hazmi, pilot and hijackers of the American Airlines Flight 77 that crashed into the Pentagon arrived to Las Vegas at 11:18 am. At 11:58 am, Atta arrived to Las Vegas to and rented a vehicle at 1:46 pm. The FBI assumed that the three men met, but no activity from Hanjour and al-Hazim was recorded from that trip. Atta accessed a room at the Econo Lodge at 2:55 pm and connected at the Cyberzone at 11:26 pm, getting back to his room at 12:46 am. August 14 - Atta returned his rented car at 11:09 am leaving no unaccounted mileage and took a flight outside Las Vegas. Hanjour and al-Hazmi boarded a flight at 11:29 am. THEORIES A) Al-Qaeda was looking to target Las Vegas area As noted in Atta's first trip, the unaccounted mileage added up to a round trip to the dam from his hotel. However, Atta's vehicle was not among the recorded license plates in the parking garage of the dam. If the hijackers had connections in Las Vegas area, which seems to be the case with Jarrah, Atta might have traveled to Boulder City or any other town close to the lake and gotten to the dam with someone else in a different vehicle. It should also be noted that both Atta and al-Shehhi stayed in hotels close to the Stratosphere, a hotel and casino located in the highest building of the city. Being known as the Sin City, Las Vegas could have been a attractive target for jihadists looking to rebel against what they perceived to be the westernization of their home countries and culture. B) Hijackers were exchanging information with other Al-Qaeda members The FBI emphasized the short duration on hijacker's trip to Las Vegas saying that it was just long enough to exchange information. Authorities believe that Atta was not only looking at flight on the East coast but he also kept in communication with Ramzi bin al-Shibh, a potential 20th hijacker who had been denied entry to the United States and acted as an intermediary between Al-Qaeda and the other hijackers. Jarrah's mystery companion and the complete lack of evidence of his whereabouts point to possible terrorist acquaintances residing or staying in Las Vegas that are yet to be identified. The FBI summary mentions two persons of interest: Lotfi Raissi and Zakaria Hassan Ibrahim. Raissi started attending the Sawyer School of Aviation in 1998 one month after Hanjour quit. Two days after Jarrah left Las Vegas, Raissi arrived to the city with his wife and stayed there until June 18. His stay didn't overlap with that of the hijackers and he claims he went to Las Vegas to celebrate his honeymoon. On September 21, Raissi was arrested near Colnbrook, UK, where he had been living at the time of the attacks. Prosecutor Arvinder Sambei claimed that the FBI had footage of him celebrating an event with Hanjour and that his flight logs from March 2000 to June 2001 were missing. It has also been claimed that Raissi was training five of the hijackers. No such proof was presented to the courts and the man in the footage turned out to be his cousin and not Hanjour, as it had been previously claimed. Hassan Ibrahim had previously been convicted for trafficking in fraudulent passports and visas. He was the person to provide Mir Aimal Kansi, CIA headquarters shooter , and Mohammed A. Salameh, perpetrator of the 1993 WTC bombing, with fake documents. He was reported to have spent most of July in Las Vegas. Unfortunately, not much information about this individual is accessible so I could not verify if any connection between him and the hijackers was formally established. C) Hijackers went to Las Vegas as a final pleasure stop before committing suicide This theory was briefly mentioned by Evan Thomas, journalist, and quoted by criminologist Adam Lankford in his psychological autopsy of Mohamed Atta. According to the author, Atta and the other hijackers - Hanjour and al-Hazmi - might have visited Las Vegas because maybe " they wished to be fortified for their mission by visiting a shrine to American decadence". While not much is known about Hanjour and al-Hazmi, Atta has been alluded to by the people who knew him as a sexually repressed man who experienced extreme discomfort around women and the mildest hint of sexuality. When years of repression build up an uncontrollable sexual urge, the individual might end up participating is risky sexual activities. Nevertheless, the circumstances of the trip make sex and gambling very unlikely motives. Their stays were short, happened across different months and there was no evidence of them visiting casinos or any similar venues. Strippers supposedly identified al-Shehhi as one of their patrons, but evidence was not conclusive. Furthermore, there is no reason to believe that a quick visit to the strip club was anything more than a fun opportunity while pursuing a bigger goal. I personally believe that the hijackers visited Las Vegas to coordinate the attacks with other members from Al-Qaeda who flew under the radar (no pun intended). SOURCES: Las Vegas investigative summary Theories on why 9/11 hijackers visited Las Vegas David C. Henley: 9/11 hijackers visits to Nevada remain a mystery Wikipedia entry for Mir Aimal Kansi Wikipedia entry for Mohammed A. Salameh Cracking the terror code EDIT: Thanks for the awards people!
Ramtidings, dear friends! It is I, your dutiful lord and master, the eternal GM. My sabbatical proved most fruitful, having figured out some depth mechanics for 3 dimensional combat in my pet project, Blood & Thunder, a maritime piracy RPG that has been both a joy and a nerve-wracking nightmare to create. If you want to see what's going on with that, you can swing by patreon.com/BlackFlagPrintingPress to take a look or support my endeavors. But I digress, because I did not come here today to talk about Blood & Thunder, no. I came here with something else in mind, good friends, for while I have been writing my bread and butter, you have gone without your beard and butter, and this is unacceptable! And so, I have trawled the depths of my memory to bring you yet another TAAAAAALE FROM THE TABLETOP, lovingly subtitled A Prologue Into Poverty. Life is not an easy thing. There was a time when life was very difficult for me. I had far less than most, and I went without frequently, my entire life loaded into a backpack of bare necessities. Joys were few and times were hard, but I made the best of it. I traveled the countryside, mostly alone, making friends where I could amongst the other forgotten souls who haunt the streets of the United States. I met a good number of people, many of them listless drifters in their own right, who became fast friends. We would hang out for a time, but like all drifters, we would eventually part ways, called to different places to do different things. I had just come from North Carolina. I had been in Asheville, playing bluegrass to make money with friends who eventually proved dishonest, and so I parted ways with them. While in Asheville, I had met a girl, also on the road like myself, and I developed a massive crush on her. Fortune would have it that our time together was short lived, as she disappeared on a freighter down the train tracks, and I layed curled up in a bush sick as a dog for the next 3 days. You can't get a ride from a freighter with 8 people without getting pulled off by johnny law. Our group had fractured, and myself and one other soul continued on our own, until we parted ways in Atlanta. Now, on my own, clueless and green, I wandered aimlessly, until a friend of mine at the time reached out to me by way of the internet. He had work for me, back in California, if I could just make it there. What's 3000 miles? I've got this. I walked out of Atlanta, hitched a series of rides to Arkansas, and then caught a freighter myself, all the way back to the west coast while UP did the driving. I laid on the back of that train for 3 days until I finally ran out of water and decided to get off. I was in Los Angeles. After a bit of panhandling, I got a bus into the central valley, and my friend came and scooped me up. I worked on my friends farm for a bit, building green houses and stacking money until the time came for me to once again depart. During that time, my crush from North Carolina had found me on Facebook. We got to talking. She told me she had gone back home to Wisconsin and was working in some greasy spoon trying to save up money to afford a bus. She'd been back for awhile now, but wasn't making any headway. Her vices were getting the best of her, and she couldn't seem to get ahead. I told her she needed to knock that shit off and clean up her act. After a long enough time talking, however, things started to get flirty and dirty. I wanted to see her, and it's actually amazing what a guy will do for love. You're how far away? Piece of cake. Hold my beer. With the work season coming to a close, I took my pay and my leave of my old friend, and he dropped me off in Modesto at the Greyhound. On the way out, he loaded me up with gifts for my travels - a new backpack, socks, a sleeping bag, some snacks for the ride... and naturally, he gave me a gift that I always treasure. He gave me a set of RPG dice. I gave my boy a hug, wished him well in his endeavors, and promised I'd be back in the fall to help him with the harvest and gathering firewood. So I went on my merry way. I absolutely despise Greyhounds. Have you ever been on one? It's miserable. There's no room to stretch out unless you sit in the back, right by the toilet. Some asshole is always blaring garbage mumble rap on his phone all day long. It doesn't matter who you are - at the end of the trip you exude the pungent aroma of a neckbeard. This didn't bother me too much - personal hygiene suffers when you have no way to bathe regularly, so I was used to being dirty, and my friends from the road were usually very dirty people in their own right at the time, so I could handle a certain degree of grossness... within limits. I did shower at my friend's farm before I boarded that bus, though, and was feeling rather spiffy - clean body, clean clothes. Life was good and I was on my way to see my woman. I did my best to zone out. I tried to sleep as much as I could and ignore the general atmosphere of the bus, but that was no longer an option after a layover in Las Vegas. We boarded the bus once more after an almost 24 hour delay on our schedules, and finally got moving again. I sat in the back near the toilet, as I was no stranger to this game and wanted that bench seat, and foul smells at the time didn't bother me much... or so I thought. With the bus filling up and the seats reducing to slim pickings, it dawned on me that my coveted back seat bench was going to get shared. Then, I saw him... the Busbeard. I'm usually a pretty nice person, but I did not want my coveted backseat benchseat getting taken up, let alone by this massive lardass that now lumbered towards me. I did everything in my power to seem as big and hostile as I could. This was all in vain, however, as some people cannot read social cues. I stared at him, dripping hostility, mentally repeating sit somewhere else like it was a Zen mantra. However, nobody wanted him to sit by them either, and so, he made his way, closer and closer, as he asked people if seats were taken until he got to me at the back. He shifted to sit into the seat, angling his ass in the general direction of my face. The smell of soggy feces-laden underwear wafted up as he slid his bulk onto the bench. Did I mention that personal hygiene suffers on a greyhound bus ride, especially when you've been riding for days? I've taken my fair share of Greyhounds, and it's unlikely that this new arrival had been riding for awhile. He was eastbound, like the rest of us, and we were in Las Vegas. His point of origin was... not very far east. I had only been on the bus for approximately a day so far, minus the extended layover time of course, so I was getting a ittle sweaty myself, but this guy smelled as if he not only lived on this bus, but was born in the blue poop goop of the latrine. It was a question worthy of debate as to whether this man had actually employed the use of a speed stick in his life. His patchy jowels jiggled at me as he said, hi. I responded with a gruff and monotone hello, and then turned my attentions to the window, watching the bus depot workers loading up suitcases beneath. My fate was sealed. This man was to be my travel companion all the way to Denver. I decided then that maybe it would be best to ignore him. I plugged in my phone, booted up an emulator I had downloaded, and started to play some Pokemon to whittle away the hours. It didn't take long, however, before I could feel his olfactory looming become physical looming as he examined the screen upon which I played from over my shoulder. Busbeard: Pokemon? I fucking love Pokemon! I didn't know you could play it on a phone. How are you doing that? His heavy respirations were like an infusion of green spearmint and halitosis. GM: Emulators. I went back to my game, trying to angle myself away from him in such a way that he couldn't lean over my shoulder and watch me as I trained my team, but I was effectively sandwiched between him and the wall, forced to sit straight as he leaned over and watched me play. I debated then, what I ought to do. Playing Pokemon would make the time fly, but I would be crushed between the window and a sweaty fat man. Not playing Pokemon would save me the physical agony of being squished, but I would be painfully bored for seemingly endless miles, and he may use it as an opportunity to interact further. A decision needed to be made. I shut the emulator off and put away my phone, turning my attention back out the window as the bus pulled out of the Las Vegas terminal and began down the freeway. It was not long after we had pulled out of the station, however, when that wheezing, rasping voice chirped up again. Busbeard: So where are you going? I ignored him, focusing on the casinos towering in the distance of the skyline, pretending as if I hadn't heard the question, or as if it weren't addressed at me. With insistance, he repeated his question at my turned back again, searching for a response within my stony exterior. I mumbled, the Midwest, and he questioningly grunted, and asked me to repeat myself. I guess we're doing this. GM: I'm going to the Midwest. Busbeard: Where in the Midwest? GM: Wisconsin. Busbeard: I've never been to Wisconsin before, but I know they got really good cheese! Hyuk hyuk... Is that why you're going there? Judging by his smell, he must have been an excessively avid connosieur of fine Wisconsinite cheese. However, cheese was the last thing on my mind at the time.I was enamored with my lady love. GM: I'm going to see an old friend. Busbeard: Oh, that's cool... who is it? The odds of this man knowing the person who I was on my way to visit were astronomically low. Your odds of getting struck by lightning, winning the lottery, and becoming president in the same day were probably higher than this cretin knowing the one specific person whom I was going to go visit in some backwater Wisconsin town. Still, I humored him, and in the same flat voice, answered his question, and told him I was on my way to see my sweetheart. This caught Busbeard's attention. For a grown man in his mid 30s, he let out a loud "oooooooo" like a middle schooler would when he finds out his friend has a crush. I contemplated execution methods and the subjective severity of their barbarism as he excitedly asked me where she was from. GM: Wisconsin. Busbeard: Yeah... but, where in Wiconsin? GM: Fuck off, dude. I'm not going to tell you the town where she lives. Busbeard: Heh! I'd be terrified of telling a superior male like me where my girlfriend lives, too. A little kid like you wouldn't stand a chance next to a man like me. Her panties would hit the floor from one whiff of my pheromones. It happens all the time, bro, I swear. I could have any woman on this bus. They just can't resist me. They can sense my manhood, I know it. I shouldn't stir the pot. All common sense tells me that I should just stop myself while I'm ahead, but sometimes... sometimes I just can't help myself. I've always been a pretty reserved and self-contained person for the most part, and I just want to be left alone 90% of the time to do my thing. Apparently, that's a lot to ask, because every now and then, somebody comes and invades my personal space with their protruding belly, bad breath, and self-aggrandizement, and then I find it really hard to resist my inclination to fuck with them. I know, I know, it's wrong of me to do that, but I'm human, damnit, and something good was cooking in the kitchen. What's the harm in dipping a spoon into this self-important concoction of body odor and bravado? GM: Any woman, huh? Tell ya what, Busbeard, I just got paid, and you seem really confident in the power of your, ahhhhh, pheromones, so... how about a wager. I laid out the terms of my devil's bargain. With a wager of 100 dollars, I would pick a lady on the bus at the next break. Busbeard would then have to seduce her. He MUST "present" his pheromones to her, naturally. If he recovered her phone number, or anything in excess thereof, like a kiss or a consensual toilet stall consummation, it would suffice to meet my criteria and loose my grasp from the freshly printed Franklin in my wallet. He agreed enthusiastically to my terms, insisting I was going to loose and he was going to get his dick sucked in a Greyhound portajohn "blumpkin style". We rode along in silence for the next hour or so. The sun was high in the sky when we made our next stop at some gas station in Utah, and everyone filed off the bus to stretch their legs and get their snacks. I wandered around, huffing down my smoke, chatting it up with people and making friends, seeing just who they were, asking them questions - where they were going, who they were going there with. I got to talking with one guy and his girlfriend. The guy, who we will call Sarge, was built like a brick shithouse and was a former infantry man who served 2 tours of duty in the middle east. He was traveling with his wife, a young and pretty little thing who we will call Alexandra. They were on their way back to the east coast to stay with family. Alexandra's mom was getting old and had asked them to move in to help take care of her. They were on their way out there to steward her aging mother's estate. I remarked that that was awfully kind of them, and sincerely wished them the best on taking care of Alexandra's aging mom. I told them a little bit about myself, as well... that I was effectively living on the road, playing life by ear, and on the way to see a loved one of mine for a bit before the wind blew me somewhere else. Eventually, the bus driver gave everyone a 5 minute warning before departure, and we all filed on board. I moved back to my seat and waited for Busbeard to arrive. He came back, cradling piles of gas station sandwiches, bags of chips, and a couple of sodas in his massive paws. He sat down beside me with a loud "oof" and offered me a drink, saying that it's the least he could do before he took my money. I took that beverage. It was both cold and delicious. GM: Well, Busbeard, I've done my rounds, and I've come to a decision. Busbeard: Who is it? She better be hot. I swear to God, if you make me waste my time on some dried up roastie, I'm gonna be so fucking pissed at you dude. GM: Why would I do that dude? Naturally, I only want the best for you. No, she's very pretty. You see that girl over there, in the aisle seat? That's the one. Make your move whenever you're ready. I pointed out Alexandra to him. I already knew this was going to end very poorly. There was no way in Hell that Alexandra would express any interest in this disgusting lardass whatsoever when she had a stable and solid man like Sarge, and Sarge wasn't about to take guff from anyone. Add on to it that Sarge was easily the size of, if not bigger than, the prodigious Busbeard himself. Sarge was also trained to kill and hardened by years of combat in the graveyard of empires. I can fight - I've fought a lot - and I would not want to square up against him under any circumstances. Busbeard was going to get the snot beat out of him and pay me 100 dollars for that privilege. The bus took off and I listened to the disgusting sounds of Busbeard inhaling the equivalent of 5 pounds of gas station food. I was only halfway through my soda, when Busbeard emitted a satisfied belch that rumbled the seats, and the feeding frenzy had ended in an effervesence of curdling bile and preservatives just as fast as it had begun. He then started to pump himself up for the task at hand. He started to sweat with excitement and latent cardiac arrest as he prepared his pheromonal aura about himself, and then with a gruff, alright, let's do this, he stood up from his seat and waddled down the aisle, his greasy belly bumping into everybody who had chosen an aisle seat. He approached Alexandra. They were near the front end of the bus, and so I couldn't hear a word that they were saying. I watched Busbeard as he extended an arm and held on to the overhead luggage rack, exposing the damp miasma of corn-syrup infused armpit sweat to his unsuspecting victim. His pheromones were beginning to work their magic over the unsuspecting Alexandra who would soon be enraptured by its juicy spell. I waited, leaning forward intently, when a loud shout broke the silence. Sarge: BACK THE FUCK UP. Alexandra started to shout, too, yelling "get the fuck away from me!" The driver turned back and yelled for everyone to sit down and shut the hell up or he would pull the bus over. Sarge: Please do! I'm gonna beat this fucking lardass into the pavement! Saying shit like that to my wife? Who the fuck do you think you are? The bus driver repeated his warning, and Busbeard began to shout his protests, insisting upon his innocence. Busbeard: B-but, I was put up to it! It was that guy, in the back seat! He said--- He pointed back at me. I yelled back, I don't fucking know that guy. The bus driver meant his threat, and pulled the bus over. We were on a long and empty stretch on the I-15 somewhere in rural Utah. The last town I had seen was about 20 miles back. It was late spring, and it was getting hot outside that afternoon. The bus driver got out of his seat, walked up to Busbeard, and told him to get the Hell off of his bus. Busbeard kept protesting, when Sarge moved past his wife, and started forcing Busbeard towards the front door. I've heard the threat of getting kicked off maybe a thousand times on a Greyhound, but I had never seen it play out before. Busbeard was thrown off the bus. Sarge did not join him outside and pummel him into the asphalt, regrettably, as I would have loved to have watched it. Busbeard kept pleading with the bus driver as the driver shut the door on him, sealing him out on the shoulder of a lonely stretch of highway. I breathed a sigh of relief, and stretched out my legs. It was another 15 miles before we saw signs of civilization. A part of me felt bad for Busbeard, but the other part of me said, "if I can walk 20 miles in a day with 60 lbs of shit on my back, he can do an unencumbered 15 and be fine." The ride continued on in sweet, reclined silence for me until we reached Denver, werein there was another changeover, and this bus was much, much more desolate. The rest of the Greyhound voyage passed without incident, and I spent my time flirting with my lady love and training some Pokemons. At long last, I finally arrived in Wisconsin. She came to pick me up at the bus station, and when we approached each other, we made out like long lost lovers for a good 5 minutes before we finally caught our breath enough to say hello. I got in her car, and spent maybe a week or so with her, before it was time to take my leave. I couldn't live there forever, and so, as fast as I had drifted into her life, once again, it was time for me to disappear. We said goodbye, and she dropped me off at a lonely interstate overpass on the edge of town. I put my thumb out to catch a ride to Anywhere But Here USA. I planned my next move, and I figured that there were some friends of hers and mine that lived not too far away in the Dakotas, and maybe I would pay them a visit next. I was in the neighborhood, and figured that I might as well say hello. I reached out to them online, and then made my way west again. They were excited for me to come see them. It was only a day into the voyage when I received a message from Janet. It said, "wait for me, I'm catching up." She had packed her backpack again, and was coming after me, hot on my tail. I told her we could meet up at our mutual friend's house. I dialed ahead to our friends, who we shall call Sarah and Queenie. Sarah used to travel together with Janet for many months before she stabilized, and then settled down. Queenie was one of my friends from North Carolina. He was a loveable chucklefuck of a drifter, missing a few teeth, wore a skirt, and spoke in the most haggard voice you could imagine. Still... he insisted on being called Queenie. He had settled down with Sarah after they hooked up, and they were living at Sarah's house. He was on thin ice there, however, and she was threatening to kick him out. I arrived at Sarah's and Queenie's, and spent the next few days waiting for Janet to come up on my heels. During that time, Queenie and I played a lot of Magic (he had just gotten into it), and I remembered the dice that my friend in California had given me that were laying unusued in my backpack. I asked him if he had ever played tabletop RPG's before, to which he answered no. I told him that, maybe next time I see him and I'm in a better spot, we could run a game. Eventually Janet caught up, and we prepared to leave Sarah's for good towards our own new horizons. Queenie, however, had finally broken through the thin ice upon which he skated, and was getting thrown out. On the day of our departure, we asked him if he wanted to join us in our travels so he wouldn't have to go it alone. Thus we began from Sarah's house out into the unknown once again, a cheerful trio, and true to my word, I began to teach not only Queenie, but Janet as well, the joys of tabletop RPGs. As I'm sure you can surmise, dear friends, that this is not the end of our story, but only the beginning of another chapter. Is Busbeard still alive? What does the future hold for Ramtide's love life? How do a gaggle of vagabond drifters play tabetop games without a table? Some of these questions will be answered, my dear friends, in our next installment of TAAAAAALES FROM THE TABLETOP. A shoutout to my lovely patrons, Tatoferret and Sillibits. You guys are wonderful. Thank you for believing in the dream.
Part one: Carrie Santino In P18, Cooper stops at Judy's diner in Odessa, TX. He cops an attitude to the waitress when she offers him coffee. This is similar to P11 when Candie is pouring coffee for Bradley, and Rodney shoots her a look. Mitchums in P11, visuals connections to the couple at the diner in P18. At the diner, Cooper got Carrie's address and picked her up to take her to the Palmer house. In P11, Cooper did dine with the Mitchums, at Santino’s restaurant. The lamps and lighting are similar to the Log Lady's (LL) place. Margaret offered coffee and pie to Hawk in P2, who was out and about in the woods following some lead that the LL also knew about. At Santino’s, Cooper chowed down on pie and had a coffee. This could be seen as a version of the LL's place, coinciding with a storyline where Hawk went to Margaret's that night, in that P2 pocket reality. Hawk in P12, like Cooper in P18, was also at the front door of the Palmer house (where Sarah had a bad attitude). Let's construct an alt version of the P18 scenario where Hawk in place of Cooper gets the address of a 'Carrie Santino' (her name has no ring to it, so she has no phone), linked to the LL and another characters, and goes to her place where he’s invited in. In P1, the LL called Hawk with a hint about Cooper, which had something to do with his heritage. This is brought up again in P4, when sarcastic Chad entered the conference room (note: the actor who plays Chad is Italian). In P18, the dead man on the chair is linked to Chad - Chad said "right between the.." and then got knocked out from the cell door that hit him in the forehead, and the fella in the chair has a bullet hole in the same spot. This Carrie Santino might have a son who is a version of Chad, who sits on a chair when Hawk arrives (P7, after being let it: "let's sit down and have a nice chat/Chad"; P1 trio of fellas in chairs/seats). In P7, after Hawk finds the diary pages in the bathroom (where Chad had seen him), he reports his findings to Frank. Hawk's ambiguous dialogue leaves open the possibility of multiple characters who could have said something - "She said that these words from Annie came to her in a dream" (what Laura 'said' in her diary), "This thing she said...the good Dale is in the lodge and can't come out" (what Annie said to Laura in her dream), and in P4 "That's what she said" (about what the LL said to Hawk on the phone). In one possibility, Hawk went to a Carrie Santino's place to find something out and reported back to Frank with something that she said. In P4, Bobby mentioned that his mother told him that Cooper had stopped by the house the day before his father died, and shortly before Cooper skipped town. Chad had just left the conference room, a split second before Bobby entered (as if they aren't meant to appear in the same shot/world). The storyline with Betty Briggs and her son also fits into this Carrie Santino framework (with Chad and Bobby blending together), so that Betty takes the role of Carrie in P9. The trio of fellas went to her place and she said that years ago her husband Garland knew they would come to ask about Cooper and she was to give them the tube. So this Carrie Santino’s husband would also have been dead and would have known Cooper in the past. The LL's husband was named 'Sam' (who also died in a fire like Garland). Sam Stanley (SS; like ‘Sam Santino’) was a character in FWWM, Chet's sidekick on the Teresa Banks investigation, who randomly was estimating the value of things in Dear Meadow. So a version of Cooper (or Chet) was missing in this pocket reality and Hawk went to a Carrie Santino's place, who had a son, and a husband (Sam?) that died years ago (parallel to Garland), because this Cooper or Chet had allegedly seen the husband shortly he disappeared or skipped town. Hawk then got some information from this Carrie (and maybe he found something else in the home, parallel to the P6 scenario in the bathroom where Chad/the son saw him, as well as the 'tube' scenario) and reported back to his boss. Since Cooper is on Albert and Gordon's team, Albert would seem to be involved in this framework, such that it could be blend of Hawk and Albert who went to this Carrie’s. In FWWM, Sam Stanley was appraising the value of things around the station, morgue, diner etc in Dear Meadow. Cooper in S1 discussed purchasing property in town. This Sam may have been a real estate agent or appraiser, who went with Cooper to a house he wanted to purchase, and then Cooper went alone and vanished (along with the house and the home owner? parallel to Chet in FWWM and the trailer, which was linked to the Chalfonts). In P11 at Santinos, the old casino slot lady talked about getting a house and her son Denver back in her life. She may be parallel to old Mrs Chalfont whose house Dale found himself in with Laura in the FWWM dream sequence. If the casino lady's son is parallel to Chad, they might be another version of 'Carrie Santino' and son, which would make the story fold in on itself – such that, Cooper went to see the house years back, he vanished (along with the house and owner), then Hawk/Albert went to investigate and saw the wife of the man Cooper was last seen with, which would in a sense repeat the scenario if they were parallel to the Chalfonts. The theme of a repeated investigation (and home owners before home owners) is prevalent in the story. [In Nolan's Memento, Carrie-Ann Moss and Joe Pantaliano are two characters that take advantage of Lenny Shelby’s condition (short term memory loss). MrC in P2 and P13 remind me of a character with a memory condition, going around in circles and being manipulated (and mocked) by Ray and Darya. It backfired on ‘Teddy’ in Memento and Lenny killed him. Ray and Darya’s deaths might be parallel to those two Memento characters. Moss and Pantaliano also had small roles in the Matrix. In S1E4, Albert comes to the station with two men that looked like Matrix agents. Albert cops an attitude with Lucy and Harry. Albert was said to be very skilled at what he did, he carries a case around in S3 and Ferrer is of Hispanic background. Albert may be a stand-in for skilled guitarist Carols Santana. Blend together 3 names – Santana, Carrie and Pantaliano and you can get: Carrie Santino. In S1, Albert said he had a lot of cutting and pasting to do with Laura’s corpse, but he was met with interference from Dr. H and company. In S3, Ruth and Garland are sort-of combined into one body on the bed. Perhaps it was some Albert (Santana’s) duty to cut (Garland’s man parts) and paste together Ruth and Garland to make a ‘Carrie Santino’ but we saw the unfinished version]. Part 2: Dale and Judy in a can In Ferris Bueller's Day Off, the sister ‘Jeanie’ had a bad attitude (until she met Charlie Sheen's character). Here's the scene: Ferris Buller scene In P7, Dr. Hayward mentioned a Mrs. Mueller to Frank, some woman who used Skype, and that he didn't need to get out of this chair to diagnose her. Frank's next scene was with Mrs. Briggs, who was on her computer, and a chair (Garland’s) is central to the scene. There's also a character named Buella who parallels Diane (robes, hairstyle). Switching letters in Mueller and Buella, you can get a Mrs. Bueller. In P14, Diane says that she has a half-sister Jane, nicknamed 'Janey-E.' The first 'e' in Jeanie (Ferris's sister) could be moved to the end so it's 'Janie E' pronounced the same way as 'Janey-E.' Diane also said in P14 - "I don't want to talk about that night," a possible echo of Phillip's line about not talking about Judy. In the FBI’s hotel room, Diane is shot in P16 and right after that (P17) Gordon finally talks about Judy. So there's something to do with Judy around Diane and her half -sister. Playing around with letters: 'Diane' & 'Jade' <-- 'Jeanie' & 'Dad'. In place of Jeanie sitting next to Charlie, imagine Jeanie sitting next to her dad (Mr. Bueller), or flip to the other side, Diane sitting next to Jade. Jade is a prostitute and Diane acts like one (one her characters in IE was a street hooker), so it's not hard to imagine them sitting together at some station in a cross-over world. [Dad: When is 'dad' a character? In P5, Doris stormed into Hawk's office and yelled at Frank about her dad's car problems. Right after Doris slammed the door on her way out, Janey-E exited through her front door. Doris and Janey-E are both blonde, bossy housewives. Bushnell is around Janey-E a few times (notably at the station in P9 where Janey-E and Cooper sit), so if the characters/storylines are shuffled, Jane's dad could be represented by Bushnell in the story, a degree of separation from 'Jeanie & Dad'] In the above scenario, where two sit with a receptionist behind them in the background, if Lucy is that receptionist it could also be: 'Jane' & 'Dad' & 'Lucy' -- 'Judy' & 'Dale' & 'can.' ‘Can?’ In P16, Sonny Jim drinks soda from a cup. Just before Cooper wakes up, Janey-E takes him to the “little boys’” room. If there's a version with a can in place of a cup, Sonny Jim could be a little girl who was taken to the girls' room to pee. Relevance? In P5, Dale goes to work at Lucky 7 insurance, he meets Phil Bisby and on the elevator ride up Phil presses the button to the 7th floor and says "7 Up." Later, Dale has to urinate and Rhoda takes him to the ladies' room. Let's say that Dale was inside or associated with a can of 7 Up, 'with' Judy (‘Mary’ in the elevator could be a stand-in for her). This can of 7 Up (link to ‘Lucky 7’) could be the can that some little girl was drinking out of in place of Sonny Jim in P16. When it was time for him to go out ("you can go out now") he'd be sucked up - maybe into Dale in the coma (his consciousness) or peed out - the swirl of the toilet may be like the vortex in P11 to the Convenience Store complex stairs, where Gerard later passes with Dale; the man urinating in P13 is credited as “Man in urinal”, is that linked to Gordon P11?) In the P5 scene where Rhoda helps Dougie to the ladies' room, there are two views - one where she carries a large white key tag (no case files visible), and one where she doesn't have the large white key tag. In the latter, there's a brunette receptionist on a red chair (vs. the blonde in beige earlier) and we see the stack of case files. It follows that in the storyline in which there are no case files, Dale was with Judy in the can and then woke up at the hospital corresponding to when Sonny Jim peed. In the other version, with the case files, the Lucky 7 storyline continues into P6. [If Dale goes out, maybe Judy stays inside the can (related? 'waiting for someone' & can), represented by American Girl remaining in the room after Cooper leaves. Naido was also in that room. If some plot elements are rearranged, let's say Naido/Judy pulls the lever, Cooper falls out into non-Existence ('not Janey-E'?), Naido shifts to Lucy, back at the station with 'Jane' & 'Dad' sitting on the sofa, and thus Dale ceases to exist]. Putting more things together & summing up: In S1, Albert with a cocky attitude came to the station to do tests on Laura’s corpse and interacted with Lucy at the front desk (the trio may be a stand-in for a Carrie Santino, and/or on the flip side the scenario could be Hawk coming to get an address of this Carrie, to ask her about Cooper). Later in S1, Albert wanted Cooper to sign a complaint form after he was clocked by Harry, but Cooper declined and out of the blue told ‘Diane’ he wanted to look into purchasing property in town. Back to Lucy – if elements are shifted and this Lucy was drinking from a can of 7-UP (‘Lucy’ an alternative to 'Lucky' in Lucky 7, which would replace the hospital scenario as well) when this Albert or Hawk came in looking for the address of ‘Carrie Santino' and this Lucy goes to pee and flushes the toilet, a dimensional portal might open up, and the scene might shift to her as the receptionist and ‘Jane & Dad’ sitting together (and Dale not existing)? Correspondingly, the vortex might appear at the Chalfont house [and/or in Carrie’s, and suck up this Albert/Hawk (ceiling fan P12 = vortex stand-in; Palmer house P17 linked to the sky vortex), so that Albert/Hawk gets taken up by the same wormhole or whatever that made Cooper disappear] (this would also be linked to Hawk's P2 trip to the red room portal where Hawk and Cooper potentially crossed paths; Mrs Chalfont's house is also linked to the red room). Something like that! Needs work but elements are in place. [Also, in P3 there was a car crash after Cooper got sucked out of the purple place - maybe the story resets around these events so that Cooper crashes his car on the way back from seeing Sam/Garland (and Albert/Hawk and Gordon/Frank's memories reset, like in P14), and the team gets news in P3 and goes to see him in P4 and on and on..]
Solo Cross Country Driving was one of the best experiences of my life.
I'd been wanting to drive cross country for a few years before I actually did it (Virginia to Utah). Sadly as a single person whose friends all have their own relationships, jobs, and lives... I felt like it was never going to happen. I didn't want to go on such an adventure solo because I'd be lonely. Well in mid 2019 I got offered a job out in Salt Lake City, and I decided to pack my life up and just go. I filled my little hatchback with everything I could take, hugged everyone goodbye and hit the road. What I expected: A dull, boring trip where I'd hate every minute of it, wishing I has the ability to teleport, and missing my friends. What I got: The absolute BEST trip of my life (okay second best because Disney exists). To start, with just yourself on the open road... you are your own DJ, planner, and decider. Each day I did only what I wanted, making the stops I wanted to stop at, listening to the music I wanted to, as well as a couple of audiobooks. I planned a few of my stops in advance, and sometimes I just pulled over and looked up what was local. I stayed in the hotels I wanted to stay in, ate what I wanted to eat, you get the gist. The only actual downside to this trip was the fact that my car had EVERYTHING of value to me inside it, so it was a little nerve wracking each night that someone might break in and take something. But each night I brought my PC and most important documents into my hotel with me for safe keeping. My trip began in Virginia and went through WV into Lexington, KY. Then I went through Indiana an Illinois (which had a pretty big manure smell) and ended that night in Kansas City, staying the night at a Casino where I could relax with a DEEP bath and have a drink. The majority of the next day was driving through Kansas where I made constant jokes to a Toto that wasn't there, and stopped to eat at this fantastic dive that had Bison Burgers, going all the way into Denver, Co. Then on my final say I had a choice of taking the Wyoming route or the southern Utah (Moab) route. Thinking I'd visit Moab with friends at some point, I went through Wyoming, then down through the Canyons into Utah. This trip is what taught me that it's okay to go at it solo, that you don't always need others there with you to get out and have a good time. When the pandemic is over, I plan to finish the trip at some point, by driving to the West Coast (I have friends I can visit in LA) and back to my new home in SLC, so I can say I have fully driven from one side of the country to the other. I really want to do this again someday. I'd prefer not to put unnecessary miles on my car, but sadly car rentals are hella expensive if you plan to return the car someone else (not like they're cheap to bin with). After I finish from Utah to Cali, perhaps one day a run along the southern boarder would be fun :) If I could have done anything different (and I'll keep this in mind for next time), it's that I'd do this as a vacation instead of a cross-country move. Since I was starting a job and needed to get settled, I didn't have a ton of time to dilly dally. Next time I'd like to stay an extra night or so in the cities I visit, meet some people possibly and just have a good ol' time. Solo trip with some others mixed in along the way. Tips: - I borrowed a proper GPS from a friend instead of using my phone, and this worked out really well. - I used the Hotel Tonight app to schedule each of my hotels. The App worked REALLY well, but don't let a hotel trick you into thinking you haven't paid already. I did get charged twice and had to make a few calls because of it, but the hotel did recognize their mistake and remedy it. - Obviously if you have your entire life packed in your car, park in well lit areas. - Yelp is your best friend for interesting food places on the road.
Please tear apart my investment thesis on the Chainlink token
Hey team, I'm currently trying to put together an investment thesis about ChainLink and I'm trying to:
Really understand the value of the LINK token
Verify all of my assumptions
Have anyone/everyone poke holes in my thesis
Can you help point out where I might be mistaken or verify the assumptions with links to articles/tweets/etc that might act as a good source? I'm really trying to understand *IF* there is true value and price appreciation in the token. Most of the articles I find online are all price speculation with no backing of *WHY* the price should go up (e.g. big woop if the market cap for BTC goes up. That doesn't actually mean that the marketcap or value of the LINK token will also go up. THAT'S A STUPID THESIS AND YOU MIGHT AS WELL GO TO THE CASINO! /rant over. Comments & constructive thoughts appreciated. Trolls too. I like trolls. --------------- Chainlink (LINK) - As smart contracts become more mainstream, they will need oracles to provide inputs from the outside world to execute their contracts. Anything from using the weather (like issuing insurance to farmers for a bad crop year), sport outcomes (like sports betting), obituary information (transferring assets upon death), etc. will all use ‘oracles’ to provide that information. ChainLink works by allowing multiple third parties to provide that information through the chainlink network. Chainlink will require information providers to put up collateral (in LINK equal or greater to the amount at stake in the original smart contract) to compensate users if they provide wrong information. E.g. If I use an ethereum smart contract (or other blockhains such as polkadot), to pay Steven $20 if it rains tomorrow @ noon in Denver, CO, then I’d likely put ~$22 into this smart contract ($20 for the bet, $1 for ‘gas’, and $1 paid in LINK to the info provider (the % of contract or actual numbers don't matter here for this example). In that instance, an oracle or information provider would stake $20 (or more) in LINK as collateral and provide the relative information. The oracle would lose their $20 in LINK if the other X providers of the same information don't agree, so there’s an incentive to provide the right info). For providing the right information, the info providers split the $1 F\fee). Because there is a limited supply of LINK, and as smart contracts use more oracles over time, the value of the remaining link that are unstaked go up as there is a fixed supply (but don’t forget the staked LINK goes back into the main pool for more smart contracts as historical smart contracts finish executing - i.e. the LINK required to stake the bet with Steven goes back into the pool after tomorrow). Said in another way, if I want to sell my data, I need to be more trustworthy than other data providers and thus need to stake more LINK tokens, so I buy more LINK and stake them. This both increases the demand because of my purchase and reduces the supply because what I stake is removed from circulation. Others now need to buy more LINK to stay competitive with me, further increasing demand and reducing supply. There’s also a ton of value offered to the enterprise data providers. Having any enterprise be able to sell their data to anyone using smart contracts, allows them to generate more revenue while providing more data for smart contracts to use. I.e. there’s an incentive for non-decentralized companies to provide info to the decentralized network over time. The network becomes more attractive to smart contract creators/users due to the larger amount of data available on it, this causes more users to join, which then causes more data providers to join in order to sell to the increased number of users and so on and so forth. For those reasons, I think the value of the LINK token will exponentially grow over time.
Risks:
You currently cannot stake your LINK as collateral. It’s part of the roadmap - so there’s execution risk here.
I *think* this is the largest risk to this currency.
It’s unclear to me whether you’ll be able to stake LINK if you’re not an information provider (i.e. I’m not going to run a node or provide this information, I just want to stake my LINK as collateral).
I *think* worst case this means that I won’t earn LINK rewards because I’m not an info provider, but I should still benefit from the value of LINK increasing.
I don’t see any network effects here blocking other protocols from providing the same information. E.g. I could see ethereum or polkadot choosing another ‘oracle’ protocol other than ChainLink to get decentralized information from the real world
I think this lowers the ultimate value of LINK but if this is the only real concern, then I still think it’s worth owning - LINK would still be used, in addition to whatever other platforms come out. E.g. Both Pepsi & Coke co-exist (ok bad comparison, but you get the idea)
Questions:
Are there any other ways I'm not accounting for that make LINK more valuable?
Anything I'm missing that could make LINK less valuable?
Research:
Here is an incredible description of how chainlink works and why it is valuable.
Welcome to the 8th round of the JimmyEatWorld Artwork Survivor! THIS ROUND - In the Core Discography tiebreaker, or as I've dubbed it The Battle for States' Rights to Self-Titlesorry , the Self Titled album gets its rear end handed to itself(title) by the Self Titled EP with a whopping 60,7%.
After a tense Singles tiebreaker, Sweetness will decidedly not be concerned with us anymore as it follows the Sweetness Alternate cover that went out last round. And, as a few of you would've spotted if you checked the Drive folders, the iTunes Festival (2013) artwork completes a hat trick of iTunes artworks to exit in subsequent rounds, following iTunes Festival (2011) and iTunes Session. You can find the link to ALL of the images and categories compiled right here. Vote Here for your LEAST favourites:
These are really tight so every vote counts, and every vote will be counted so click away! Images In: - Core Discography: Bleed American Chase This Light Clarity Futures Integrity Blues Invented Self Titled EP (1998) Static Prevails - Alternate Cover Stay On My Side Tonight - Singles: 12.23.95 Acoustic Beautiful Day (Best Song) Bleed American (Single) Blister Coffee and Cigarettes Damage Get Right Integrity Blues (Acoustic) I Will Steal You Back (aka. The Steak) My Best Theory Sure and Certain The Middle Work You Are Free - Misc: Blueprint Split Clarity Live (2009) Chase This Light Live (2008) Firestarter EP Good To Go EP Last Christmas Mineral/Sense Field Split One Two Three Four EP Singles (Compilation Album) Taking Back Sunday Split Images Out: - Core Discography Round 1 - Damage (29.1% or 16/55 votes) Round 2 - Surviving (25.7% or 9/35 votes) Round 3 - Static Prevails (21.4% or 6/28 votes) Round 4 - Self Titled (Jimmy Eat World) (60,7% or 17/28 votes) - Singles Round 1 - Lucky Denver Mint (31.4% or 11/35 votes) Round 2 - Love Never (22.7% or 5/22 votes) Round 3 - Half Heart (23.5% or 4/17 votes) Round 4 - All The Way (Stay) & Pain (16.7% or 3/18 votes each) Round 5 - Big Casino and Bleed American - Alt (20% or 3/15 votes each) Round 6 - A Praise Chorus, Always Be, and Sweetness - Alt Cover (15.8% or 3/19 votes each) Round 7 - Sweetness (33,3% or 9/27 votes) - Misc Round 1 - Jebediah Split (31.3% or 10/32 votes) Round 2 - CFD Split (45.5% or 10/22 votes) Round 3 - Jejune Split (26.7% or 4/15 votes) Round 4 - Emery Split (29.4% or 5/17 votes) Round 5 - iTunes Festival (2011) (London) (26.7% or 4/15 votes) Round 6 - iTunes Session (29.4% or 5/17 votes) Round 7 - iTunes Festival (2013) (33,3% or 5/15 votes)
I live in a small mining town in the mountains of Colorado. Someone is building a massive casino nearby, Pictures Included
I grew up in a small mountain town named Eureka. It was founded in the late 1800s during the gold rush, but after the mines dried up the town began its slow descent into decay. Half the houses are empty or abandoned now. You can see a picture of the kind of houses here in Eureka: Abandoned House Non-abandoned House When a massive construction project began nearby, it was the talk of the town for weeks. Why would they build something in a sleepy dying town like Eureka? It wasn’t until my sister Selene talked to a few construction workers that we discovered they were building a casino. A casino up in the mountains, over two hours away from Denver. None of us could understand why they’d chosen here of all places. After a few months of work, the casino was done. I took a picture of the town with the completed casino in the background to the right. The ten-story-structure sticks out like a sore thumb off in the distance. Town+Casino After the casino opened, they hired a few dozen members of the town, offering high paying jobs to work as dealers or cleaning staff. I was already employed as a firefighter, but my sister Selene got a job as a blackjack dealer. She’s a widow with two young kids, so the paycheck was a real lifesaver. Still, something about the situation seemed too good to be true. The jobs over there paid far too well, and the management was far too accommodating. The fire station where I work is located high on a hill overlooking the town, so I began watching the casino from a distance each day. I had initially thought that the casino was located in a terrible location, but I was apparently wrong. True, Eureka was hours from any major city, but despite that, a bus full of people arrived every morning and left every evening. One night I was over at my parent’s house and had dinner with Selene and her kids. I asked her about her experience as a dealer. “It’s Ok,” she said. “Just a little boring I guess.” “Boring?” I asked. “I’m surprised you don’t have your hands full.” “Why’s that?” she asked. “It’s like you said, Eureka’s too small. I never have people playing cards. The casino is almost always completely empty.” I wasn’t sure what to make of that. If the place was always empty, what happened to the people who I’d seen arriving on buses? “I’ve been keeping an eye on the building,” I said. “A bus full of people typically arrives around 9 AM every day.” “Really?” she asked, looking confused. “If that’s true, I’ve never seen them. “I can see it from the fire station,” I said. “If you head out for a smoke break at 9 AM, you’ll probably see them arriving.” “Interesting,” she said. “I’ll do that. If they’re being processed for their organs or something, I’ll let you know.” She laughed. “Har har,” I said sarcastically. The next night she sent me a text calling me over. When I arrived, she was nearly breathless with excitement. “Orin, You were right,” she said. “A big group of people did arrive, but they didn’t walk into my part of the casino. Instead, they all walked into an elevator at the back of the building. I’m not sure where that goes.” She looked thoughtful. “It was weird. They looked… How can I say it? Desperate? Something about the whole situation was very off. I’m gonna check out the elevator tomorrow.” I told her to be careful, though, to be honest, I was excited to hear about what she discovered. When I visited my parent’s house the next night, I found her two kids there alone. They told me that Selene had never returned from work. I called all her friends, then all our neighbors, but no one had seen her since she left for work that morning. Our conversations regarding the casino flooded my mind, then a plan began to form. Early the next morning I walked across town in my nicest pair of jeans and a button-up shirt. I pushed through the door to the casino and saw that Selene wasn’t lying. The place was all but deserted. Three dozen slot machines crowded the walls surrounding a few tables interspersed throughout the floor of the casino. The only players in the whole building were Bob and Donald, two locals. I walked up to a nearby table where Bridget, a girl I’d gone to high school with, was shuffling cards. She broke into a grin when she saw me. “Hey Orin, you here for a few rounds of blackjack?” “I wish,” I said. “No, I’m here to ask about Selene. She never made it home last night.” Bridget’s expression darkened. “Really? Have you asked around?” “I already called around. Have you seen her?” She shook her head. “No, our schedules rarely line up. I’ll be sure to let you know if I--” Her eyes focused on something behind me, and she cut herself off. I turned around to see the casino’s pit boss watching us both. He was a tall thin man in an impeccably clean black suit. When I turned back towards Bridget, she was looking down at the table and shuffling cards absent-mindedly. “Well, if you hear anything, let me know,” I said. She nodded, so I turned around and headed for the pit boss. I stuck out my hand. The temperature of his hand was so hot that I had to pull my hand away after a few seconds. “Have… have you seen my sister Selene?” I asked. “She hasn’t been seen since her shift here yesterday.” He smiled. “Sir, this floor is for players. You’re more than welcome to head to the tellers for chips, but barring that I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave.” I stared at him for a long second before stalking towards the door. When I looked back, he was talking with Bridget. I checked my watch. 8:55 AM, just as I’d planned. I walked around the back of the building and waited as the morning bus pulled around the building. I waited for the telltale hiss of the opening doors and the sound of people descending before I rounded the corner and joined the crowd. None of them paid any particular attention to me as I walked with them into the casino. The crowd walked through a side door down a hallway to an elevator. Small groups of people entered the elevator as the rest of us waited for our turn. I shot a glance at the casino patrons, surprised at their diversity. There seemed to be people from all different countries and ethnicities. I heard one speaking Japanese and another speaking what sounded like an African language. My turn came along with a few other patrons in the elevator. A sickly woman hobbled into the elevator beside me carrying an IV that was still connected to one of her veins. We piled in and rode up to the top. The elevator rose for a few long seconds. I wasn’t sure what I would find, but I steeled myself for something horrible. The elevator’s speaker let out a TING, then the doors opened. We all walked out onto what looked like a standard casino. Another few dozen slot machines ringed the walls, but on this floor, they were almost all occupied by customers. I took in the scene, confused at why they’d have a ground floor that was almost completely empty when this place was almost-- Selene was dealing cards at a nearby table. I jogged over and sat down at an open seat. None of the players around me paid me much attention. “Selene!” I said. “Are you OK? Did you spend the night here last night?” Her eyes were glassy and confused. She looked up at me with a dumb expression and didn’t respond to my question. “Selene?” I asked. “What’s your bet?” she asked me. “This table is for blackjack players only.” “I…” I trailed off, looking at the players around me. None of them were betting with chips of any kind. “What’s the minimum bet?” I asked. “Three years,” she responded. “Three years then,” I said, not knowing what that referred to. Selene nodded, then began dealing cards. I shot a look down at my hand. King and a 9. Selene dealt out cards for herself, showing a 9. I stood, then leaned forward again. “Should I call the police? Are you--” “Congratulations,” she said tonelessly. An almost impossibly warm hand grabbed my shoulder. I spun to see the pit boss I’d spoken to earlier. He gave an impressed smile. “Orin, was it? I’m impressed, truly. Would you mind if I had a word with you?” I shot a look back at Selene who was dealing the next round of cards. Then I got to my feet, balling my hands into fists. “What did you do to her?” The pit boss clasped his hands behind his back. “Nothing more, and nothing less than what I’m going to do to you. That is, offer you the chance to play.” “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” The pit boss nodded his head towards a nearby slot machine. A woman in a wheelchair pulled a lever and watched the flashing numbers spin. They exploded in a cacophony of sirens and flashing lights. “WINNER WINNER WINNER!” The machine screeched. The woman in the wheelchair put her feet on the ground and stood up on a pair of wobbly legs that had clearly never been used before. “As in any other casino,” the pit boss said, “you must wager for the chance to win.” “She... won the use of her legs?” I asked, feeling light-headed. “Wait,” I said. “I played blackjack just now. ‘Three years,’ Selene told me. What does ‘three years’ mean?” I asked. “Three years of life, of course. Did you win?” My mouth felt dry. “I-- Yes, I won.” He smiled warmly. “Congratulations. I hope you enjoy them. I can tell you from personal experience that watching the decades pass is a bore. Give it some time and you’ll be back to spend them.” I watched the pit boss’s face. He couldn’t have been more than a few years older than me, and I was in my early thirties. I looked around at the casino. No one was playing with chips of any kind. “So what?” I asked. “I won years of life. That woman won the use of her legs. What else can a person win here?” “Oh, almost anything. They can win almost anything you can imagine.” A cold feeling settled in my stomach. “And what do they wager?” His eyes flashed with greed. “Almost anything. They can wager almost anything you can possibly imagine. Anything equal in value to the item they want in return.” He nodded towards a nearby roulette table. A man stood by the table, cradling his hands. “Another finger,” he called out. He only had three fingers remaining on his left hand. As I watched, the ball came to a stop, and another finger disappeared from his left hand. The pit boss extended his hands. “Feel free to try any of our games. Bet and win whatever you’d like.” He reached out and snatched my hand. A feeling of intense warmth passed up my arm to my chest. “There,” he said. “I’ve even given you some house money to get you started. An extra decade of life, on me.” I ripped my hand away, staring at him in horror. Then I looked back at Selene. Something clicked in my mind. “You offered her the chance to play. What did she want?” I asked. “Her husband,” the pit boss said. “Quite the sad story. He died two years ago. She wanted him brought back to her.” “What did she wager?” I asked. “She wanted the chance to win a soul, the most valuable object in existence. I’m sure you can imagine what she needed to wager for the chance to win it. What she wagered is unimportant. The important question is: What do you want, Orin?” I stared at Selene with a flat expression. “I’m sure you can imagine.” His eyes flashed with greed again. “How wonderful. The casino could always make use of another dealer. Feel free to make your wager at any one of our games; I’ll be eagerly awaiting the results of your night. Oh, and do take advantage of our waitresses. We always supply food and drink for ‘high rollers’.” He walked away. I spent the next few hours trying to decide which game to play. I was going to be wagering my soul, so I wanted the highest chance possible. Slots and roulette were out. I’d done some reading online about counting cards, so I figured that blackjack gave me the best odds. I walked up to Selene’s table and sat down. “Bet?” she asked with that same toneless voice. “Three years,” I said. I spent the next hour or so doing my best to remember how to count cards. I knew that low cards added one to my count and high cards decreased it by one, but the casino used three decks. I had read something about how that was supposed to change my calculation, but I couldn’t quite remember how. Every time I won a hand, I cursed myself for not putting everything on the line. Every time I lost, I breathed a prayer of thanks that I’d waited. And all the while, I kept track of the count. I had lost fifteen years of life when the count finally reached +5. “Bet?” Selene asked. “I wager my soul so you can be free,” I said. The table around me fell silent. Selene’s eyes flickered, but she showed no other emotion as she dealt the cards. I watched my first card, punching the air in excitement when I saw a Jack. My excitement turned to ash when my second card was a four. Fourteen. I looked at her hand. One card was facedown, but the faceup card was a King. I swore loudly, staring down at my hands. “Hit?” she asked. The entire table was silently watching me. “Hit,” I said, not looking down. The table erupted in cheers. I looked down to see a 7 atop my two other cards. 21. Blackjack. I looked at Selene who flipped over her facedown card to reveal a 9. 19. I won. The glassy look left her eyes immediately. She looked around in surprise, then her eyes locked on mine. “Orin?” she asked, then almost immediately began to cry. The entire casino broke out in cheers. I grabbed her hand and headed for the elevator. The doors had begun to close when the pit boss reached out with a hand to stop them. “Congratulations,” he said, beaming. He seemed to be honestly excited. “Shouldn’t you be upset?” I asked. “Not at all. Casinos love it when we have big winners. It inspires the other players to make larger bets. I imagine I’ll gain two or three dealers before the night is through from your performance.” “Great,” I said flatly. “Now let us go.” “Not yet,” he said. “You didn’t just win, Orin. You got a blackjack. And blackjack pays out 1.5 times your bet. You won your sister’s soul and more.” I stared, not sure what to say. “What are you saying? I won half a soul extra?” The pit boss grinned wildly. “Just remember what I said. You’ll find living for decades and decades to be a boring experience. After a few centuries, you’ll be back to gamble that half a soul away. Congratulations!” He removed his hand, and the elevator doors slammed shut. I helped Selene back to her house. Her children were relieved. I watched them cry, then moved into the kitchen to start making dinner. It’s been a few days since that experience. The casino is still out there, and buses full of people still arrive. I… I cut my hand pretty bad a few days later. When I checked it an hour later, it had already healed, no scar or anything. I’m not sure exactly what I won at that casino, but there’s no way I’m ever going back. Interested in more? Support me on Patreon at any level! My Patreon backers will get early access to my horror stories, free copies of my horror novels, and an exclusive story each month. Become a Patreon supporter here: https://www.patreon.com/WorchesterStreet Thank you to my lovely Patreon Backers: Brooke Tang Private Castle Lilith Scyther Peter Jamison MADman611 Lily Bain Vivienne Hoai Claire Shabbeer Hassan Maranda Mae Madeline Budd Lauren Ashley Luna Vaughan Stephanie Jennings, Krystin Molina and my new Patreon backers, Carter B, Yazz Ledgister, and an especial thanks to newest backer Christina! Your support is invaluable!
So there’s this OCD-fuelled thing I do with the music of several of my favourite artists, and that is to compile collections of customised albums that
contain as many of the artists’ songs (including songs not released on albums) as possible, moreorless chronologically (while omitting the occasional songs that I moreorless can’t stand (typically certain remixes), or which are redundant or that I didn’t have space for and didn’t mind sacrificing),
have fluid seamless transitions between all tracks (my favourite part), and
extend the albums to all have an equal number of tracks (OCD-fuelled, as I’ve said).
Sometimes, with enough non-album songs, I compile completely new albums. In the case of Linkin Park, there were enough non-album tracks that every single main album has a “companion album” of the same length (in three cases, this is in fact a remix album).
I'll be posting one album (or a pair in most cases, when there's a companion album) per day. Please have a listen - feedback would be appreciated! :) ×=×=×=×=×
Hunting of a Thousand Things
[Linkin Park custom album #27 - 30] ×=×=×=×=× Tracklist: Vol. 1
01 - 808er
02 - Atari Techno
03 - GBSong1
04 - Sakura
05 - Heretic
06 - Leopard
07 - Stone
08 - Milk
09 - Headbutt
10 - Cookie Monster
11 - Pizzaria
12 - DBY
13 - Aub
14 - River
15 - Airborne
16 - Fugitive
17 - Pablo
18 - Insect
19 - Qua
20 - MJ
Vol. 2
01 - Asteroids
02 - Album4SNDS
03 - Holding Co
04 - Gamma Ray
05 - PacmannyNew (Blackout Demo)
06 - Blacklight
07 - Invader
08 - Maschine MS Test2
09 - Burberry (Space Station Demo)
10 - Casino
11 - Cool EFX
12 - Horizons
13 - Iridescent (ProtoDemo)
14 - Plastic
15 - Sushi
16 - Chocolate
17 - Killing Fields
18 - Thumper
19 - Megatron (New Divide Demo)
20 - Victory March
Vol. 3
01 - Recharged
02 - Luna (It Goes Through Demo)
03 - Bottles
04 - Sono
05 - JoBurg
06 - Turtles
07 - Ryu1 Turtles3
08 - Ryu3
09 - Florida
10 - Trinity
11 - Jackboot
12 - Digi Folk
13 - Sendai
14 - Lorax
15 - Dance Rock
16 - Fois Gras
17 - Basket
18 - Castle of Glass Remix2
19 - Control
20 - Lifejacket
Vol. 4
01 - Apes
02 - Apes Bounce
03 - Quick
04 - Confetti
05 - Ody
06 - GATS
07 - Quazar
08 - Gnarly Tribal
09 - Morello2
10 - Greysky
11 - Rooster
12 - Axis Arp
13 - Axis Pulse
14 - Monday
15 - Clock
16 - Tick Tock
17 - Auckland2013
18 - West Reverse
19 - Graves
20 - Spotify
×=×=×=×=× Information: Background: In 2019, fans compiled and released Hybrid Party of a Thousand Things, a large compendium of previously unheard demos salvaged from a couple of Mike's old harddrives (and painstakingly put together by said fans). It consists of "discs" of demos for Hybrid Theory, A Thousand Suns, Living Things, and The Hunting Party, as well as a bonus disc containing LP's Stagelight tracks (of which a few had already made it onto previous custom albums). Of the 233 tracks on the compilation, 80 were deemed worthy of inclusion on my LP custom albums. I decided to compile them as their own custom albums, in the vein of Mike's Dropped Frames series, and place then between Amends and Dropped Frames (as a sort of buffer between those two). Since most of the tracks are really short (many shorter than 10 seconds), I decided to break the pattern of the previous custom albums (single or pairs of 16-track albums) and do a set of four 20-track volumes. Some good tracks were not included as they were used almost sound for sound in songs already on previous custom albums. Title: Derived from "Hybrid Party of a Thousand Things", but without "Hybrid" as only one single track from the Hybrid Theory demos made it onto the albums. Arrangement: Volume 1 is meant to be reminiscent of old school Linkin Park, Volume 2 of A Thousand Suns, Volume 3 of Living Things, and Volume 4 of The Hunting Party. However, most of these demos on all four volumes are from either Living Things or Stagelight, which had the most material on HPoaTT. Only a single Hybrid Theory demo made it only the albums, and that is Qua on Vol. 1. Combined and rearranged tracks:
Invader: Placed both versions of the demo, Denver and Invader, together as one track.
Recharged: Combined both versions of the demo, Recharged and Recharge Theme 1 as one track.
Jackboot: Combined both versions of the demo, Jackboot and Jackboot Stone Cyn as one track.
Fois Gras: Combined both versions of the demo, Fois Gras and Fois Gras 2 as one track.
Casino: Combined both versions of the demo, a drum track and a synth track, into one track, by playing first the drum track, then the drums overlaid with the synths, then the synths on their own.
Insect: Repeated the drum part of the track over the melody part of the track.
PacmannyNew: The most thorough edit, arranged and overlaid the various sound snippest of the track into a song.
Megatron: Repeated the drum part of the track over the synth part of the track, and the keyboard part over that.
Note on quality: Many tracks included on these albums were very soft to begin with. Sadly, on a few of them raising the volume distorted the sound on the heavier beats. I tried a few different ways of raising the volume and ended up with the same results. Unfortunately this was the best I could do at present, but I will attempt a better quality redo eventually, provided I find a way to do so. Note on transitions between volumes: Since the four volumes altogether only amount to one hour and ten minutes, I decided to treat it sort of as one long custom album, with flowing seamless transitions between each volume. ×=×=×=×=× Listen on Vimeo:https://vimeo.com/500070774/f1ae4e706f Download: (Message me) ×=×=×=×=×
The fall of Denver is a useful look at who and what are the most likely factors to bring around a successful succession from the SLFR. Support from most strata of society led to the cumulative securing of their current borders along with them having a rather popular regime in the city despite being an enclave within the SLFR. This popularity continued to the point where the WC voluntarily cut off their population in Denver from external trade or leaving the WC. Now the situation in Denver is...middling. Given this case study on landlocked enclaves in the modern era of war and economy, members of our intelligence community are hard at work crafting a strategy that should reign in the secessionist sentiment within Las Vegas until the armed conflict is over. This strategy relies on 3 distinct pillars that should dampen the spirit of Vegas. Those pillars being Reality, Resources, and Experience. Reality: While many in Las Vegas might be more than ready to succeed and either become an independent state or join the WC, this can cause a break in the relationship between the greater population of Vegas and the Business Owners of Vegas. In Denver, common ideological goals and a lacking government spurred on the separation of the United States and the normalcy and security that brought. With many, recently, refinding that normalcy and financial stability it any major change in the status quo won't simply happen overnight as hesitancy runs rampant. This first pillar relies on emphasizing this reality to those looking for a "normal" life going forward. Local News stations (across the country) will be given press passes and badges to observe Denver from the front lines. While no substantial push into the city is planned in the immediate, they'll be more than welcome to access security footage shot from our troops into the streets of Denver highlighting the self-inflicted squalor and freakish lifestyle that comes with such a drastic move. Likewise, boarded-up stores and abandoned buildings should be enough to get the point across to the business elite of Vegas that making such a move (especially with an economy almost entirely based around pleasure and recreation) could potentially ruin them financially and all they have built on the strip. Resources: While Denver's story is one of a popular revolution of the people and business elite hand in hand, that revolution was and is still maintained via private and military rule. While most military forces are deployed, this leaves the private sector to be a potential obstacle in our path going forward. As such, the SLFR will be contacting the more prestigious (and well-armed) of these security contractors and contracting them out as additional security forces in the campaigns of Washington and Oregon. By removing, or limiting, any such access to competent and well equipt security forces we hope to limit the level of violence if such an action was to be taken against the civilian police in the area.. The second biggest, or smallest, resource the population of Las Vegas can bring to bear is ammo. Outright purchasing of ammunition from local manufacturers and distributors to aid in the "war effort" should limit the sustainability of an armed uprising. Though this might be of little consequence as, leading up to the fall of the united states, ammunition shortages in the civilian market have been widespread. While this likely has been alleviated since last year, it unlikely has had time to recover to such an extent to allow a large populace to fully arm themselves for an extended stand. Experience: Experience has taught us that, like with Elon Musk, many of these businessmen are invested in their projects and are willing to work with us if they find the alternative to be detrimental to their assets. As such, recruiting the Las Vegas building elite to feed information back into the SLFR intelligence network might be as easily done as cutting them a check or promising their casino to fall into the category of meeting upcoming "tax breaks". Regardless of the result, many of these people know almost everything that happens in their casinos and can feed lots of delicate information to law enforcement. Overall: While the economy increases it's spiral, allocation of funding might begin running short if this operation is to continue past, say, 5 years. However, our agents and local law enforcement believe in their ability to contain the situation for a modest cost of $1.2 billion yearly recurring. This project is expected to run for the next 4 years, or until the war with WC concludes favorably.
Concerning Longmire, Nighthorse, and the matter of plausibility...
First off, this is an opinion coming from a viewer who only had a passing acquaintance with the show up until a family member started binge-watching it on Netflix (I'd seen three, maybe four episodes in all, up until recently). Second, this is my rebuttal of a post on here (https://www.reddit.com/longmire/comments/9nvsle/what_the_hell_i_mean_what_the_fucking_hell/) made a while back... Concerning Nighthorse: My first impression of Jacob Nighthorse is a comparison to a villain from a '90's sci-fi that only managed one season before it was cancelled - "Space Rangers". The character I'm referring to - Isegol - acted just like Nighthorse does; always acting through third parties, or just far enough in the light that taking him to task is not only an inordinately tall order, but it's an excuse to be destroyed just about every single way a person can. This is especially true in the lead-up to Branch being shot; everything that follows - including the revelation that Ridges was alive, after all - is compounded by the fact that ol' Jacob is justclean enough to squeak past getting sent to the hoosegow. The author of the reddit post I referenced up above claims that the worst thing Nighthorse did was take dirty money for the casino; only problem is, throughout the series, he is shown in connection with incidents where he is either trying to maneuver himself into a position of advantage over people (Branch's attempt at becoming sheriff, for starters), or allying himself with people who are certifiably bad juju (the former tribal police chief), and that is too much of a coincidence to ignore. Longmire's attitude: Throughout the series, Walt is a man haunted by his demons. We know early on that he beat the shit out of those junkies in Denver, and it is even heavily implied that he's hiding the fact that he killed Beck for murdering his wife. Honestly, though -- this trope has been done; Deep Space Nine did it with the character of Benjamin Sisko. The quintessential difference is that Walt isn't built to be anything other than a lawman; it's practically genetic with the guy. On top of that. Walt - unlike Sisko - never fully came to closure with the death of his wife; it became something of a personal crusade for him, and it took him to a dark place. I see posts on the Longmire wiki, and on this subreddit, that accuse Walt of being the stereotypical white cop, and acting like how he acted was unjustified. Skipping past the point that this is fiction, this story has been done several times before, in a myriad of genres - hell, the dynamic between Walt and Nighthorse is almost a parallel of the Hamilton storyarc of NCIS: New Orleans; now, why does Hamilton get burned in effigy from minute one, but Nighthorse's connections to events that put him in a position of power on a reservation he's not even a member of by blood get a pass? I mean, c'mon - it's the same fucking story, just told in Wyoming instead of the Big Easy! Ultimately, my frustration for the way this story is interpreted is because I see too much sympathy for the devil, and not enough for the lawman put through hell.
[SUBREDDIT ALBUM] Final Tracklist Result / Album Name Result / Artwork Submissions
IMPORTANT: Before you go any further please go back and read the Parent Post HERE first before continuing. /JimmyEatWorld - your new subreddit album will be: Title: "For Us This Is Heaven" Tracklist: Disc 1: One Of Us Has To Drive
The biggest investigation of Las Vegas hasn't been able to uncover the reason why 9/11 hijackers traveled to Sin City
On September 11 of 2001, 19 men hijacked four planes and crashed them into the World Trade Center, the Pentagon and into an open field in Shanksville PA. These men were al-Qaeda terrorists doing the deeds in the name of a holy war against the West and not much about the attack remains a mystery unless you subscribe to the inside job theory, which isn't my case. What authorities haven't been able to explain is the hijackers' several trips to Las Vegas despite what has been dubbed to be the broadest investigation in city. All these trips happened within a few months before the attacks, but the men behind them left very little evidence their activities in the area. TIMELINE May 24 - Marwan Al-Shehhi, the pilot who crashed the United Airlines Flight 175 into the South Towers of the WTC, arrived to Las Vegas from San Francisco and rented a room at Travelodge as a walk in customer. Once there, he called eight other motels. May 25 - Al-Shehhi walked in the St. Luis Manor, a hotel that wasn't on the call list. At 12:52 pm, he rented a different car, but didn't return the first car until 3:58pm. The unaccounted mileage in both vehicles summed up to 29 miles. FBI believes that these unusual patterns were a conscious attempt to avoid detection. May 27 - Al-Shehhi made it to New York. June 7 - Ziad Jarrah, pilot of the United Airlines 93 that crashed in Shanskville while on its way to the Capitol Building, arrived to Las Vegas and rented a car at 3:13 pm. He was accompanied by an unidentified man described as "middle eastern looking". When Jarrah asked for directions to Circus Circus Hotel and Casino, the a rent-a-car employee tried to give him an answer but was interrupted by the unidentified man who suggested another route. The man's knowledge of the address suggests that he was familiar with the area or that he had been in Las Vegas before. June 10 - Jarrah took a flight to the Baltimore Washington International Airport leaving his rented car with a mileage exceeding 200 miles and no trace of his Las Vegas whereabouts . June 28 - Mohamed Atta, pilot of American Airlines Flight 11 that crashed into the North Tower of WTC and leader or the hijackers, arrived to Las Vegas at 2:41 pm and rented a car at 4:25 pm. At 6:40 pm Atta established an account at Cyberzone internet café and used the computer for one hour and thirty five minutes. June 29 - Atta checked into Econo Lodge Motel at 1:01 pm. He logged in at Cyberzone again at 2:21 and 6:21 pm. Once done, the FBI believes he went back to his hotel. June 30 - Atta accessed his Cyberzone accounts at 1:56 pm, 6:30 pm and 9:33 pm. The mileage analysis indicated that he returned to his hotel afterwards. This day as well as the day before, Atta had placed several call to Al-Shehhi as well as to two different number in Houston, TX. One number was unassigned and the other one belonged to a mobile salesman. July 1 - Atta returned his rented vehicle at the airport at 5:12 am and took a flight to New York that connected in Denver. The vehicle had 73 unaccounted miles of usage which the FBI believes would cover a round trip to the Hoover Dam. July 31 - Waleed al-Shehri, hijacker of the Flight 11, took a flight from San Francisco to Las Vegas where he stayed for 45 minutes while waiting for another flight to Miami. It is unclear to me whether this was a tactical flight - the hijackers were believed to take flights to study their trajectory as well as entrance to the cockpit-, or just a connection. August 13 - Hani Hanjour and Nawaf al-Hazmi, pilot and hijackers of the American Airlines Flight 77 that crashed into the Pentagon arrived to Las Vegas at 11:18 am. At 11:58 am, Atta arrived to Las Vegas to and rented a vehicle at 1:46 pm. The FBI assumed that the three men met, but no activity from Hanjour and al-Hazim was recorded from that trip. Atta accessed a room at the Econo Lodge at 2:55 pm and connected at the Cyberzone at 11:26 pm, getting back to his room at 12:46 am. August 14 - Atta returned his rented car at 11:09 am leaving no unaccounted mileage and took a flight outside Las Vegas. Hanjour and al-Hazmi boarded a flight at 11:29 am. THEORIES A) Al-Qaeda was looking to target Las Vegas area As noted in Atta's first trip, the unaccounted mileage added up to a round trip to the dam from his hotel. However, Atta's vehicle was not among the recorded license plates in the parking garage of the dam. If the hijackers had connections in Las Vegas area, which seems to be the case with Jarrah, Atta might have traveled to Boulder City or any other town close to the lake and gotten the dam with someone else in a different vehicle. It should also be noted that both Atta and al-Shehhi stayed in hotels close to the Stratosphere, a hotel and casino located in the highest building of the city. Being known as the Sin City, Las Vegas could have been a attractive target for jihadists looking to rebel against what they perceived to be the westernization of their home countries and culture. B) Hijackers were exchanging information with other Al-Qaeda members The FBI emphasized the short duration on hijacker's trip to Las Vegas saying that it was just long enough to exchange information. Authorities believe that Atta was not only looking at flight on the East coast but he also kept in communication with Ramzi bin al-Shibh, a potential 20th hijacker who had been denied entry to the United States and acted as an intermediary between Al-Qaeda and the other hijackers. Jarrah's mystery companion and the complete lack of evidence of his whereabouts point to possible terrorist acquaintances residing or staying in Las Vegas that are yet to be identified. The FBI summary mentions two persons of interest: Lotfi Raissi and Zakaria Hassan Ibrahim. Raissi started attending the Sawyer School of Aviation in 1998 one month after Hanjour quit. Two days after Jarrah left Las Vegas, Raissi arrived to the city with his wife and stayed there until June 18. His stay didn't overlap with that of the hijackers and he claims he went to Las Vegas to celebrate his honeymoon. On September 21, Raissi was arrested near Colnbrook, UK, where he had been living at the time of the attacks. Prosecutor Arvinder Sambei claimed that the FBI had footage of him celebrating an event with Hanjour and that his flight logs from March 2000 to June 2001 were missing. It has also been claimed that Raissi was training five of the hijackers. No such proof was presented to the courts and the man in the footage turned out to be his cousin and not Hanjour, as it had been previously claimed. Hassan Ibrahim had previously been convicted for trafficking in fraudulent passports and visas. He was the person to provide Mir Aimal Kansi, CIA headquarters shooter , and Mohammed A. Salameh, perpetrator of the 1993 WTC bombing, with fake documents. He was reported to have spent most of July in Las Vegas. Unfortunately, not much information about this individual is accessible so I could not verify if any connection between him and the hijackers was formally established. C) Hijackers went to Las Vegas as a final pleasure stop before committing suicide This theory was briefly mentioned by Evan Thomas, journalist, and quoted by criminologist Adam Lankford in his psychological autopsy of Mohamed Atta. According to the author, Atta and the other hijackers - Hanjour and al-Hazmi - might have visited Las Vegas because maybe " they wished to be fortified for their mission by visiting a shrine to American decadence". While not much is known about Hanjour and al-Hazmi, Atta has been alluded to by the people who knew him as a sexually repressed man who experienced extreme discomfort around women and the mildest hint of sexuality. When years of repression build up an uncontrollable sexual urge, the individual might end up participating is risky sexual activities. Nevertheless, the circumstances of the trip make sex and gambling very unlikely motives. Their stays were short, happened across different months and there was no evidence of them visiting casinos or any similar venues. Strippers supposedly identified al-Shehhi as one of their patrons, but evidence was not conclusive. Furthermore, there is no reason to believe that a quick visit to the strip club was anything more than a fun opportunity while pursuing a bigger goal. I personally believe that the hijackers visited Las Vegas to coordinate the attacks with other members from Al-Qaeda who flew under the radar (no pun intended). SOURCES: Las Vegas investigative summary Theories on why 9/11 hijackers visited Las Vegas David C. Henley: 9/11 hijackers visits to Nevada remain a mystery Wikipedia entry for Mir Aimal Kansi Wikipedia entry for Mohammed A. Salameh Cracking the terror code
Denver Area COVID-19 Resources and News Megapost II - More Information in /r/CoronavirusColorado
This post serves both as a renewal of the previous post "Denver Area COVID-19 Resources and News" and an update of some guidelines as to where to read and post content related to C-19 as the virus continues to spread through Denver. As moderators during this crisis, our paramount goal is provide the less important topical posts and discussions. In order to achieve this goal, we will encourage the majority of posts regarding covid-19 to be posted in /CoronavirusColorado, and important announcements to be posted here. Further I would like to encourage everyone to subscribe to both subs and recommend using the a multireddit to view both, if you wish. Colorado/Denver COVID-19 Multireddit
Here's a brief summary of what to post where:
General Discussion about Covid-19
Post in this thread.
Important announcements specifically related to Denver by the The Mayor, Governor, or a major government agency such as the CDC
If you can't decided where to post, ask yourself the following. "Is this critically important, well-sourced information that relates to Denver?" If the answer is yes, please post it here, if not, but it is still of moderate importance, or interest to you personally, post it to /CoronavirusColorado, or ask in the comment section below.
Most Important Advice to Prevent the Spread of Covid-19:
Wash your hands frequently, for 20 second (about the time it takes to sing "Happy Birthday" from start to finish) washing all parts including between fingers. Hand sanitizers may be used as a substitute, but hand washing is preferable. Moisturizing soap will help prevent over-drying your hands.
Avoid gatherings of people, especially large ones and try to maintain a social distance of 6-feet from other people. Avoid shaking hands
Avoid Touching your face, eyes, and mouth especially with unwashed hands. If you cough, use your elbow rather than your hands.
Sanitize doorknobs, counters, sink faucets and other frequently touched surfaces. First clean, then you can use disinfectant wipes, diluted bleach , full strength hydrogen peroxide, or a disinfectant spray to kill any virii that may be on the surface.
Don't hoard needed items; don't be a stupid, selfish asshole.
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