As I came to, ice-cold blood rushed into my veins like I’d been raised from the dead. My muscles cramped and my head stung like I’d been bashed in the head with a mallet. It took me a moment for the world to stop spinning and for my eyes to start focusing again.
Getting up from the bedroom floor it occurred to me that I had no recollection of how I’d ended up there. The rug under my feet was stained with blood in a thick, moist circle - the smell of iron giving it away instantly. I realized that my shirt was also drenched in blood, although it had mostly dried off already, giving the formerly white t-shirt a very morbid tie-dye treatment.
With the slight beginnings of panic brewing in my dislocated mind, I started walking towards the bedroom door to check if anyone else was here when my foot coincided with something hard, giving my pinky toe a solid uppercut, the pain making me lift the leg up as if it had to flee from its opponent.
It was a handgun. The make and model were not familiar to me, but as I picked it up it contoured itself smoothly to my hand, its coarse and cold handle a sensory delight for my palm and fingers. As I examined it, something inside its metallic mechanism clicked, and its magazine fell to the ground. Giving it a closer look, it looked almost full, like there could still be space for one more round.
Wait, had I been shot?
Frantically I started patting my body like I was giving myself a strip search. I sighed in relief as I found no holes, blood fountains or other indication that a bullet had penetrated my body. But that brung upon an even alarming question.
Whose blood was I wearing?
Slowly, and looking at the ground more carefully this time, I made my way to the door and opened it. I could see the rest of the small apartment clearly from my vantage point. Hallway to my left, leading outside the apartment, a half-opened door to the bathroom a few feet down the hall. Living room and kitchen in front of me, tied together by a small bar. Minimal decor and only essential furniture: a couch, TV, bookshelf. I walked around the quiet apartment, and finding no one else, I returned to the bedroom for no other reason besides that’s where I had woken up. That’s when the biggest question hit me.
Who was I?
I tried and tried to think of the subject, but there was no recollection or even a sliver of familiarity to the concept of ‘me’. It was like I was trying to think of an answer in the midst of an important test at school; although the question undoubtedly had an answer which I’d at some point known, I just couldn’t locate it in my mind, no matter how hard I tried. I sat down on the bed to think of something more useful. As my body weight shifted the mattress, something tiny slid across and touched my thigh just barely enough for me to notice. The object sparked familiarity; it was a USB stick.
With no other clues to go on, I picked up the laptop that was laying on the single nightstand next to the narrow bed and booted it up. Luckily for me, it wasn’t password protected, so I stuck the USB stick in and waited for the system to recognize it, hoping for some clue as to what was going on.
The screen flashed and the drive’s folder popped up. Inside it was only one file, called savepoint.txt.
I double-clicked the file, and for a short while nothing happened. For a second, I thought the system had crashed. Suddenly the laptop’s fans started to roar and the file flashed open in a jagged glitch. The text editing software was still loading pages as it opened, and after a minute or two the fans relented and no more pages were added to the tally. The final length for the document was 12,421 pages, and it began with the following paragraph.
“Your name is Alastair Stephen White, born to Bethany and Richard White on July 2nd 1987. You were born in the United States of America, in the state of Missouri, in the town of Jefferson City. Right now, you are in your own apartment, located in Topeka, Kansas. You live alone. You are safe there. There’s food and drink in the fridge - help yourself.
If you are reading this and have no recollection of the aforementioned information, it is deeply important that you study this document in full and internalize the information within. You may not remember who you are, but that can be relearned - a risk that I knew well to be probable, and that is why I’ve arranged this document for you. The text is formatted to be chronological, so as to reacquaint yourself with yourself in the same order as you had when you lived through the memories within.”
The text went on to describe certain physical traits (the shape of my ears, a few birthmarks) in great detail, which I confirmed to be accurate descriptions of my body. Although I was compelled by the text, it was hard to comprehend what it was for. Either way, whoever had written it had a very intimate knowledge of me physically, which therefore indicated that other aspects of the text held some modicum truth as well. After a few pages of further prologue regarding ‘my’ life, the author had written a long passage about my first memory.
“Your first memory was of a stroke of genius you had as a child, thereby relaying to your parents both their dim wits and your potential in matters of greatness. Thankfully they furthered your education and prospects thereafter.
You were between the ages of two and three, and you were watching Bethany in the kitchen as she cut cherry tomatoes one by one, dropping two halves at a time into the salad bowl. You saw the efficiency that she so horrifyingly lacked and your first real idea sparked itself to life. Bethany went to the other room for whatever, and you climbed up on a wooden stool to reach the countertop. You flipped the tomatoes onto the counter, bunching them up as you did so, and placed the cutting board on top of them. You laid the knife at the edge of the board, between the board and the countertop.
Once Bethany came back, she was confused and started to scold you for touching the knife. No, no NO, you thought, possibly rambling something childlike through your meek lips, and pointed at the tomatoes, not backing down to the wishes of dumb Bethany.
‘Oh,’ she said to herself, surprise in her voice. ‘I do it like this, I get a bunch more at a time. Clever,’ she mumbled to herself as the cogs in her brain finally caught up to speed. Bethany held the fruit in place with the cutting board as she slid the knife across two dozen tomatoes, cutting each one in half with one quick motion. ‘Is this what you meant for me to do, baby?’ she asked, turning to you. You nodded, victorious. This wouldn’t be the first time you had to convince others to do as you said, for you were different. Better.”
After that, the text held each memory that was supposedly mine, written down in great detail, beginning from childhood. How an apple I’d bitten into had a bug on it, fueling my interest in biology at an early age. How, on my first day of school, the teacher called my parents to tell them that I’d be more suited for an upper class, for my education to be more aligned with my skills and abilities. How the other kids wouldn’t play with me because I’d win at any game they’d throw at me. What my childhood home looked like, with all its nooks and crannies. How I felt when Jeremy from school had pantsed me in front of everyone at gym class. How I’d swore to find revenge through success and brilliance.
The level of specificity was so exceptional, it occurred to me that the only possible author for the document could be me. I’d been a child prodigy - someone clinically better than everyone around me - and I’d held others in contempt because of their lack of appreciation and understanding. A dissonance slowly grew in my mind as I read further, for I couldn’t relate to the ‘me’ that had written the document. I’ll be referring to the author as him from now on. He was brilliant, yet horrible.
The document quickly became nearly impossible to read - the man in the pages growing into a pompous prick, mostly boasting about his greatness and lamenting on how no one understood him. As he grew up, he slowly became more introverted and bitter. He couldn’t relate to other kids, teens, or even adults. He was lonely, hating the world for it, while the world hated him back not for his genius, but for being a self-righteous asshole. Although he’d excelled in most everything he did, nothing seemed to satisfy him.
I scrolled through large excerpts of text, occasionally skimming some in an attempt to decipher the egoistic babble within, until I wound up in his college years, wherein he finally started writing about something other than himself.
He’d started to study theology in college, taking random classes between his joyride of a major in biomedical engineering. He did it just for fun - and to be able to discredit religions with an in-depth view of their infrastructures and holy texts. Each religion and sect within - it was all inane to him; a morbid, practical joke thrust upon the weak minded.
That is until he read about the Bardo Thödol, a Tibetan buddhist funerary text, and for whatever reason, he immediately regarded the text in high acclaim. In short, the Bardo Thödol is recited to a dying person to guide them through death and into a successful rebirth. He said that the ancient text held astounding similarities to the principles of death and life within living organisms.
“They knew things in great detail we have only now uncovered through expensive, back-breaking research. The text is astonishing by all accounts, and its convoluted nature and lack of proper translation has kept it somewhat hidden from modern society.”
That was the beginning of his research, which he soon started calling project Savepoint. Below I’ve highlighted relevant passages from the document relating to his research for a chance at conveying his thought process, and how Bardo Thädol relates to what we know of death in modern times.
“-- and so, there are three bardos, or gaps, when any living thing dies, and it must go through each one to achieve rebirth. The first bardo, also known as the moment of death, is essentially basic biology; the subject experiences hallucinations of luminosity and shapes, as well as vague, overall positive feelings. This is in part due to the neuroprotective activity of the brain's serotonergic system.”
“During the second bardo, the subject is said to become reckoned with by ‘wrathful’ and ‘peaceful’ entities. This correlates directly with the fleeting moments of brain activity after death, wherein the brain releases a concoction of different chemicals in a fell swoop akin to tripping on mushrooms. Existential thoughts are often copious during such strong, mind-altering experiences, giving credence to the deities as innate human morality presenting itself in different physical forms, often called ‘good’ and ‘bad’”
“-- and therefore the mystery lies within the last gap, sidpa bardo: rebirth. The sacred texts regarding the first and second bardo correlate directly with what we have come to know about death - an unprecedented finding in and of itself. For them to have had access to such information with such clear evidence would indicate that the third bardo exists as well, even if humanity has yet to uncover and quantify its existence in the realm of traditional science. During this phase, the subject is selected for rebirth among one of the six realms, all according to their karmic projection --”
“There are thousands of people who have been clinically dead, and then brought back to life. In some cases their return to the living world has come minutes after they’ve become braindead -- and they return to their own body. At first it seemed a direct discordance within the teachings of the Bardo Thödol, but once I researched the most common attributes of experience from victims to such trauma, it all made perfect sense. The victims had accidentally bypassed their karmic projection, breaking the 49 day cycle, and wound up back to their own bodies -- and what if I could recreate that scenario? What if I could make a surefire way of returning back to my body after death, thereby reaching near-immortality? Reverse the bodily harm which had taken the life? Once I reached this conclusion, it was just a matter of execution, preparement, and patience.”
Honestly, I wasn’t sure if these were the ramblings of a lone genius gone mad, or something which could potentially be an actual scientific discovery. It was apparent that he had worked on his theory for years, slowly accumulating research as he found new translations of texts and built a vast collection of evidence. Weirdly enough, it started to make sense to me -- although the hypothesis was outlandish, each piece of the puzzle supported one another. He was convinced that there was a system through which any person could prevent their death in the immediate moments after it has happened and return back to life, and frankly, I was beginning to be convinced as well.
He started spending less time on his actual studies, instead allocating most of his time on project Savepoint. Even so, he seemed to do fine in school, on account of his innate brilliance and lack of any social life. Other people were barely ever mentioned by name in the document, besides Bethany and Richard once each year when he’d go and visit them out of obligation. His ego seemed to become severely bloated, as evidenced by the following snippets. Although the text had been mostly written to ‘me’, it had slowly shifted into the first person, betraying its original intent of speaking to the reader directly.
“I am the catalyst. I will change the world. What should they call me? Perhaps the Immortal Man -- no, that’s dumb. I’m not a superhero. At least I will get a Pulitzer prize --”
“No wonder I’ve felt social ineptitude. I should have realized. How could a God be entertained by man? Soon they will all see.”
After years of nonstop work, he concluded his research, and began to prepare for death. He wanted to be the first subject of project Savepoint, further proving that he needed no assistance from anyone except himself, and proving to himself that his theory held true.
It was evident that there might be complications along the process of death, and that is why he wrote the savepoint document. According to him, there was a significant chance that after death, when he came to, he’d have no memory of who he was, or what he had done during his life - his whole life swept under the rug.
That’s why he needed to write it down; to protect his legacy and his achievement. That’s why I was reading it right now: the proof that I, Alastair Stephen White, had killed myself and returned to life using a bastardized version of ancient knowledge. In case things went awry, he wanted me to learn to be him, so that I could share his legacy and live his life as accurately as possible.
Apparently the USB stick hadn’t been the only place he’d injected the document into. There were several more alongside hard drives throughout the house along with digital copies located in every device within the apartment. According to him, there was even a printed copy next to the bookshelf. The fridge was stocked, the upcoming month’s rent paid, and an alibi given to his parents and teachers. Scrolling down to the last page of the document, he revealed his final plan.
“Tonight, I will update the cloud-based files with this final version of savepoint.txt, and distribute plentiful copies of it around the apartment. I will take the gun and insert it into my mouth, pointing straight through my brain - the most surefire way of killing myself. If all goes according to plan, I will wake up at some point thereafter, returned from the dead, having successfully hacked the cycle of rebirth to target my own body instead of another.
This will be my savepoint. This document holds within it all that I am, and all the research and evidence I’ve gathered. There are two distinct risks present in what I’m about to do. 1) The rebirthing cycle continues uninterrupted, and Alastair White dies, his essence given to another lifeform. 2) The hack is successful, but in returning the essence of me, the kyenay bardo is wiped from existence to relocate its clone. Simply put, some or all of my memories and sense of identity will be gone.
Tonight, I will face death, the final frontier.
This is my savepoint. Bring this to the world, Alastair. Show them that we are God.
Yours,
Alastair White”
His plan was airtight, except for one glaring omission. Not once did Alastair White even hint that his post-death self would hate what he read, hate the man behind those words, and despise his opportunistic ‘research’. It’s daring to call his experiment a success, for although his body had been sprung back to life as he’d promised, the monster that had created it hated itself.
I will not tell you the specifics of how he achieved what he did, for the sacrifice was great - and not just to him. What I will tell you is that it took months and months of intense preparations, which not only hurt himself but others as well.
I will not finish his work. He will be known as a lonely lunatic, and savepoint will be nothing but a vague story of a man who tried to defeat death, all his fervent research and preparation for nothing.
I am Alastair White, and I intend to continue this life instead of dwelling on death.

1. Rebel Wilson says she was banned from Disneyland for 30 days for taking a bathroom selfie.
2. Blake Lively said she had a one-year ban from Disneyland when she was "about 6" for trying to sneak into the park for free with her brother.
3. Former president Barack Obama said he was once "booted" from Disneyland for smoking in the park as a college student.
4. Bruce Springsteen said he and his E Street Band guitarist Steven Van Zandt were escorted out of Disneyland for violating the park's dress code.
5. USA soccer star Alex Morgan was kicked out of Disney World along with two other soccer players.
6. Grace Jones was reportedly banned from Disney World for life.

Link to article

It’s January, 1778. The British just captured Philadelphia, forcing George Washington and the Continental Army to flee northwest to Valley Forge. Despite being a relatively mild winter, the Continental Army proves unprepared for the elements. Illness is rampant. Rations are scarce. Whispers of mutiny lay beneath the current of daily discourse. Ever the disciple of the Greco-Roman tradition, Washington recruits a few soldiers to perform Addison’s Cato in an effort to boost morale, but his efforts fall flat. The Americans are in dire straits.
The struggle at Valley Forge was emblematic of a frequent problem during the American Revolution: faulty supply-chain management. Washington often wrote to Congress, begging for additional munitions and food for his weary army, but his pleas typically fell on deaf ears. In fairness to Congress, it was nigh impossible to acquire resources through international trade during the American Revolution. This was a result of various British naval blockades along the Atlantic coast, stifling any foreign trade presence. Furthermore, the Treaty of Alliance (which would see France officially join the nascent American forces) wouldn’t be signed until February of 1778—and formal French help wouldn’t arrive for months after its signing. During a time when each passing day of inaction proved catastrophic, the Americans simply couldn’t endure several additional months alone.
After days of deliberation, the Continental Congress assembled a plan. It was risky, unorthodox, and the key to Americans lasting until the spring.
The British naval blockade extended alongside the Atlantic coast, but it left room for supplies to be sent through Florida. However, Florida was far from a safe territory; East Florida was a British colony (Florida wouldn’t become a U.S.-controlled territory until 1821), while West Florida remained contested between the Americans and Spain. Luckily, Spanish animosity towards England ran almost as deep as the French’s. As a resulted, they tolerated an American presence at Spanish ports—if only to get through the winter.
Now with access to Spanish trade networks, the Americans had a means of acquiring global resources. They had to be frugal, though, since the Continental Congress was wary of acquiring excessive debt. This limited the American trade scope to routes in the Americas, whose excess of plantations allowed for food supplies, but limited munitions. That is, until they began importing coconuts.
Predominantly grown in Brazil, coconuts had sufficient nutritional value, but they had an added benefit as makeshift cannonballs. Desperate to conserve its iron supply, representatives in the Continental Congress theorized that coconuts could be packed in mud or clay and maintain their shape when fired from a cannon. Although skeptical at first, Continental Army forces soon realized that the unusual ammunition worked. While not quite as lethal as a cannonball, coconuts were a sufficient mode of artillery that came at a far lower production cost than a regular cannonball. Thus, the troops at Valley Forge were able to feed and protect themselves with the same sturdy nut.
As the French and Spanish joined the Revolution in the final years of the 1770s, American supplies boomed, and they rapidly shifted away from the near for coconut cannonballs. Consequently, it is difficult to ascertain the exact number of coconut cannonballs that were produced, and the extent of their use later in the war. That being said, the fact that they ever found utility should be a testament to the ingenuity of the American forces, the massive impact of global trade networks, and the undeniable excellence of the coconut.

Final part in the series about the mirroring act between the three Aen Elle elves & their Continental counterparts. Previous works: Black Knights: Parallels Between Eredin & Cahir Love(less) Sorcerers: Parallels Between Avallac'h & Vilgefortz
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“Emperors rule their empires, but two things they cannot rule: their hearts and their time. Those two things belong to the empire.”
“The end justifies the means.”
Leaders of the highest order for their people, both rulers pursue the greater good at the expense of decency and their own humanity. A greater good to be achieved through similar means – by begetting the child who is prophesised.

Intent

In the Witcher, both Auberon and Emhyr are embroiled in a plot of siring the child of prophecy with Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon – their blood relative. Genetically, the incest is a matter of degree: Emhyr is Ciri’s biological father, Auberon Ciri’s ancestor 8 generations past. Symbolically, however, the degree collapses with Auberon because a few human generations are meaningless to elves. They call Ciri Lara’s daughter, effectively deeming Ciri Auberon’s granddaughter. But the reader – not unlike Ciri herself – won’t know about this until the very end of the tale.
Notionally, both rulers bind their actions with Ithlinne’s prophecy. The problem with prophecies is they decouple arguments from verification, lending themselves to the rationalization of all and any action. At least insofar as knowing the future accurately is impossible. This is the case for humanity, it is not the case for elves. Elven prophecies were made by the elves and for the elves in the first place. Consequently, the degree to which each ruler knows the prophecy to be true and believes in it differs. For Emhyr, mystical secret knowledge of the universe is irrelevant in comparison to political expedience: reason of state is what the tomorrow will bring. The Nilfgaardian Emperor is neither a mystic nor a fatalist. Contrary to the Alder King – a Sage, a ruler, and an elder – who has witnessed and likely verified some of what the Seers have prophesised. Elves conceive of the nature of time as cyclical in which the fate of things is tied up in the endless repetition of endings giving birth to new beginnings, the dance of attraction between life and death, two sides of the same coin which form the singular eternal truth of existence – change is only an eternal reoccurrence and re-arrangement of all. Auberon, you see, is a bit of a mystic. And even without Seers privy to secret knowledge, an extraordinary life span reduces the elves’ proclivity to black swan fallacy, or at least pushes the error probabilities. But at the end of the day, mysticism takes the cake.
The idea that either ruler must be the progenitor, however, comes at the instigation of an outside force.
Shortly after Ciri’s birth Emhyr is visited by a sorcerer. Emhyr has a strong aversion to mages; he was cursed by one. Even so, Vilgefortz proves himself capable of helping him regain the Nilfgaardian throne and is straightforward about what he wishes in exchange – gratitude, favours, privileges, power. Vilgefortz tells Emhyr about Ithlinne’s prophecy – a version about the fate of the world; a human interpretation. Then he plants the seed as to what Emhyr should do to steer the fate of this world. Naturally, he has his own agenda. It is not a huge leap of imagination to conceive of Auberon having been similarly persuaded by Avallac’h (an elven Knowing One who thematically parallels the human Vilgefortz). Not only are Avallac’h and Auberon tied by broken familial bonds, they are each a participant of the Elder Blood programme; and each, a Sage. Avallac’h serves nearly as a double for Auberon, his own fate also tied with Ciri’s. And Auberon is a “willing unwilling” in his arrangement with Ciri; implied so in his rage when he reveals Ciri ought to be grateful to him for lowering himself to the endeavour at all. There is an alternative.
Neither the Emperor nor the Alder King is pursuing the incestuous course of action out of lust. But both have the option to waive being the sire. Ithlinne’s prophecy is not explicit about the father of the Swallow’s child. For elves the match is backed by science. For humanity – pragmatism.
Emhyr has ordered to wipe out the Usurper’s name from the annals of history and is cementing his earthly power, conquering and ensuring the succession laws play out in his favour. Not only is he legitimatizing his rule over Cintra – the gateway to the North – by marrying its last monarch’s granddaughter, by keeping it in the family, he is also consolidating his rule among the Nilfgaardian aristocracy. The Emperor’s concern lies with the dynastic struggle for power: it is his blood that should rule the world and because history is bending its arc according to Nilfgaard’s dictation that means surmounting the Nilfgaardian succession laws. From such perspective, not fathering Ciri’s child would create numerous problems. Ciri as Emhyr’s heir would remain behind any other male offspring he might have (with any Nilfgaardian aristocrat). Ciri might not be acknowledged as a legitimate successor in Nilfgaard in the first place as she is a foreigner, born in Cintra at a time when her father was not yet an emperor; a bastard, effectively, and a girl besides. Ciri’s husband, moreover, may have designs on power himself and his remaining under Emhyr’s control, or Ciri’s control, is not a guarantee. It is difficult to be the correctly-shaped chess piece in a game of interests of the state. That a widely recited prophecy about the fate of the world can lend an aura of destiny to the brutal political machinations undertaken to seek retribution and pursue earthly power is convenient; a descendant who will be the ruler of the world – a bonus. But to get there sacrifices must be made.

‘Cirilla,’ continued the emperor, ‘will be happy, like most of the queens I was talking about. It will come with time. Cirilla will transfer the love that I do not demand at all onto the son I will beget with her. An archduke, and later an emperor. An emperor who will beget a son. A son, who will be the ruler of the world and will save the world from destruction. Thus speaks the prophecy whose exact contents only I know.’ ’What I am doing, I am doing for posterity. To save the world.’ - Lady of the Lake

Notably, the manner in which the Emperor claims to understand Ithlinne’s prophecy does not make guarantees that a father’s incest with his daughter will ensure his progeny will one day save the world. The saviour is a few generations away and the causal arrow between now and then is not direct: the son could die, could father a child with a genetically non-fitting partner, could be sterile, or could turn out to be a daughter altogether. Not to even begin with what the world needs saving from in the first place; again, elven prophecies were written by the elves and for the elves. Emhyr var Emreis is neither an elf, a geneticist, an idealist nor a mystic. He is an autocrat.
Elder Blood is the creation of elves and it is elves who understand how their genetic abilities play into handling what was foretold by Ithlinne. Emhyr’s daughter, the Lady of Time and Space, is the descendant of an Alder King who has utilized Hen Ichaer in the past and whose ambitions lie in an altogether different ball park than that of an Emperor of one single world. Appropriately to the Saga’s love for subversion, it is ironic that human understanding of elven prophecies remains on the level of poetry, while elves – the irritatingly poetic, mystical species – can read the science elevating the prophetic jargon into something more. Which regardless does not invalidate the problem with prophecies: they lend themselves to the rationalization of action, frequently covering up the real horses the powerful might have in the race. Legitimatization of the ruler’s right to remain the leader of their people is relevant in Auberon’s life too. More on that when we return to the Fisher King parable and the nature of curses upon the two rulers.

Role & Relationships

Let’s take a look at the characters’ personalities.
Appearance: a play of contrasts
A very tall, slender elf with long fingers and ashen hair shot with snow-white streaks. An elf with the most extraordinary eyes – as on all Elder Blood carriers – reminiscent of molten lead. A man with black, shiny, wavy hair bordering an angular, masculine face that is dominated by a prominent nose (hooked, presumably, or Roman if you like). The Emperor of Nilfgaard does not resemble an androgynous elf by any means. But this does not mean nothing remains in him of the elven gene pool. Not only does Emhyr’s etymological origin link with the Romano-Celtic world underpinning all things elven in the Witcher. Nilfgaardians are effectively the Romano-Brytons. The human population in the South of the Continent mixed with elves heavily, retaining a lot of elven law, customs, language, and DNA. As Avallac’h says about heritability, “the father matters,” and Emhyr was one half of the equation for getting Ciri.
Rex Regum - King of Kings
The readers are probably more familiar with the imperial system and how that features in the depiction of Nilfgaard. Auberon Muircetach’s position as the Supreme Leader of the Aen Elle – as opposed to merely a “king” – is instead much more reminiscent of the station of a High King.
Ancient and early kingdoms of Great Britain and Ireland boast many High Kings (e.g. Ard Rí Érenn Brian Boru, Ard Rí Alban Macbeth, Vortigern, King of the Britons, etc). The High King was usually elected and set above lesser rulers and warlords as an overlord in a land that shared a high degree of cultural unity. Emperors usually ruled over culturally different lands (regularly obtained through recent or ongoing conquests). In character such high kingship was sacred: the duties of the ruler were largely ceremonial and somewhat restricted, unless war, natural disaster or any other realm-wide occasion created a need for a unified command structure. The Irish High King, for example, was quite straightforwardly a ruler who laid claim to all of the land of the Emerald Isle. Noteworthy, because the ruler is frequently seen as the embodiment of the land, associated with the health and well-being of the realm that the land sustains. In quasi-religious terms, High Kings gained their power through a marriage to, or sexual relationship with, a sovereignty goddess; frequently, a mother goddess who was associated with the life-giving land. As one of the most frequently studied elements of the Celtic cosmology, this feature is instantly recognisable in the outlook of the elves in the Witcher and factors heavily into Auberon’s relationship with Ciri. Ciri who is the avatar of the Triple Goddess – the Virgin, the Pregnant Mother, and the Old Woman Death. As Sapkowski notes in Swiat króla Artura. Maladie:

“…no Wiccan mystery in honour of the Great Triple, cannot be performed, [without] the goblet and the sword. Grail and Excalibur. The rest is silence.”

Through the Triple Goddess’ interaction with her God-counterpart (a ruler who briefly assumes the role of the god) is showcased the eternal cycle of life – one which cannot be realised without the interaction of the cup (feminine) & the sword (male). Excalibur is the symbol of rightful sovereignty and its wielders are frequently powerful men, but Ciri is a woman and a woman is the Grail, bringing salvation and new life. To possess the Grail is to legitimize oneself as the ruler, as the leader, protector, and father figure of the realm. Thus a King of Kings must do exactly that. A protector, a father figure, and a druid (wise man) merge into a symbolic whole in the Supreme Leader of the elves.
(But Ciri is also the witcher girl and owns a sword, unyielding before the matter of her gender. And though many a men might take her for the Lady of the Lake, she is not about to part with her sword.)
The realm is all
From early age, Emhyr’s father instilled an understanding in his heir that nothing counts more than the interest of the state. The blood of the Emreis family must be on the throne. Fergus never abdicated, not after torture, not even after his son was turned into a mutant hedgehog in front of his eyes. Love for his child did not sway Fergus from having his son suffer in the interests of power and the realm. This is how the shard of ice in Emhyr’s heart forms. Auberon, equally, “thinks of England” when attempting to regain his daughter’s legacy and restore their people’s power. The circumstances of Lara’s demise, however, beg the question about the Alder King’s role in facilitating or enabling the conditions that let things spiral out of control and break beyond repair. The stakes were infinitely higher for Auberon than they are for Emreis’ dynastic struggle. But what would an answer to this question change? In their cold hearts these characters see themselves each as duty-bound.
Ambitious and gloried, they nevertheless occupy different stages in their lives.
Emhyr’s ambition burns bright and fresh. Auberon’s has dwindled into a shadow of the past; buried under having witnessed and lived through the sacrifices that a ruler makes in the name of power. Emhyr chooses to seek retribution and power beyond what would befall him should he accept his life as Duny (the cursed, pitiful Duny), the prince consort of Cintra. Never losing sight of his goal, love and human happiness become temporary phases and means to an end, and Emhyr returns to Cintra only in the form of flames and death to pursue his daughter in insane ambition. The White Flame retains an active disposition; a lust for life. Neither Emhyr nor Auberon gallop at the head of their armies though, leading instead from the rear. They have lackeys for carrying out their will remotely (e.g. Cahir and Eredin). Emhyr, however, is said to be otherwise highly involved in the ruling of his empire, even if many revolutionaries who had helped him on the throne had hoped he would remain but a banner of the revolution. In contrast, the Alder King has more or less withdrawn from life and active service. In presence of Avallac’h and Eredin, Auberon appears much more like the standard Emhyr had refused to become. Of course, many decisions the equivalent of which Auberon has already made are still ahead of Emhyr, including as concerns the freedom of his daughter.
A ruler’s heart
Did Emhyr believe that he would be able to see Pavetta in Ciri and thus push through with the incest? Did Auberon hope to glance the memory of his wife in the eyes of Lara’s “daughter” and manage in this way? As already noted, neither ruler is pursuing their plans out of lust, but as lust must be induced for the act to bear fruit I cannot help but wonder what these characters must do to themselves to follow through with their plans. Because the love that is called for between a woman and a man in order for new life and hope to be born is in this instance abnormal. Yet it is undoubtedly love that plays a huge role in determining both Emhyr’s and Auberon’s eventual fate.
Until the emergence of false-Ciri, Emhyr var Emreis is said to have had numerous ladies in the imperial court. Little is known about Auberon’s disposition, but by the time Ciri starts frequenting his bed chamber it has become evident the image of a dowager king fits the elf like a glove; disaffected with romantic dalliance, he is still aware of the courtly intrigue and expectations surrounding it.

The next evening, for the first time, the Alder King betrayed his impatience. She found him hunched over the table where a looking glass framed in amber was lying. White powder had been sprinkled on it. It’s beginning, she thought. … At one moment Ciri was certain it was about to happen. But it didn’t. At least not all the way. And once again he became impatient. He stood up and threw a sable fur over his shoulders. He stood like that, turned away, staring at the window and the moon. - Lady of the Lake

Emhyr’s marriage to Pavetta, Ciri’s mother, was an unhappy one. In his own words, he did not love “the melancholy wench with her permanently lowered eyes,” and eventually would have had the vigilant Pavetta killed. Inadvertently, Emhyr caused Pavetta’s death anyway.

‘I wonder how a man feels after murdering his wife,’ the Witcher said coldly. ‘Lousy,’ replied Emhyr without delay. ‘I felt and I feel lousy and bloody shabby. Even the fact that I never loved her doesn’t change that. The end justifies the means, yet I sincerely do regret her death. I didn’t want it or plan it. Pavetta died by accident.’ ‘You’re lying,’ Geralt said dryly, ‘and that doesn’t befit an emperor. Pavetta could not live. She had unmasked you. And would never have let you do what you wanted to do to Ciri.’ ‘She would have lived,’ Emhyr retorted. ‘Somewhere … far away. There are enough castles … Darn Rowan, for instance. I couldn’t have killed her.’ ‘Even for an end that was justified by the means?’ ‘One can always find a less drastic means.’ The emperor wiped his face. ‘There are always plenty of them.’ ‘Not always,’ said the Witcher, looking him in the eyes. Emhyr avoided his gaze. ‘That’s exactly what I thought,’ Geralt said, nodding. - Lady of the Lake

After Pavetta’s demise Emhyr hounds his own daughter to the ends of the earth, killing her grandmother, burning down her home, and driving Ciri into an exile from which she never fully recovers. An exile which kills the innocence in her; the snow-white streaks in Ciri’s hair are from the trauma. In contrast, Auberon does not seem to even know what became of Shiadhal – his partner and the mother of their daughter together. On the verge of death he confuses Ciri for Shiadhal and says, “I am glad you are here. You know, they told me you had died.” The Alder King recalls Shiadhal affectionately, in the same loving breath as he recalls their daughter Lara. Lara whose exile – voluntary or not – killed her.
When Ciri was six years old, Emhyr took a lock of hair from her and held onto it; out of sentiment and for his court sorcerers to use. One of Auberon’s last lines to Ciri involves tying a loose ribbon back into Lara’s hair.
In regard to their brides-to-be, both rulers are saddled with fakes. A fake Ciri-Pavetta and a fake Shiadhal-Lara. But Emhyr’s and Auberon’s attitude toward the fake is diametrically opposite. Emhyr sees false-Cirilla as “a diamond in the rough.” Auberon calls Ciri “a pearl in pig shit, a diamond on the finger of a rotting corpse.” For Emhyr, a diamond is the essence of his poor peasant girl. While a pearl in pig shit, for Auberon, remains the essence of Ciri. Neither ruler can entirely ignore the social vigilance extended toward the ruler’s bedchamber either. The idea of a “foreign bride” is frowned upon among the Nilfgaardian aristocracy; it decreases their ability to influence the Emperor. Ciri’s social status at Tir ná Lia is never explicitly addressed, but the presence of human servants – all of whom that the reader sees are female – and casual xenophobia from Auberon himself does not make it hard to venture a guess.

‘If I were … the real Cirilla … the emperor would look more favourably on me. But I’m only a counterfeit. A poor imitation. A double, not worthy of anything. Nothing …’ - False-Cirilla Lady of the Lake
‘It’s all my fault,’ she mumbled. ‘That scar blights me, I know. I know what you see when you look at me. There’s not much elf left in me. A gold nugget in a pile of compost—’ - Ciri Lady of the Lake

The Alder King is unable to bring himself to love Ciri. The Emperor relents, caring for his daughter at last as a father should at the very end, in the one moment where it matters. Moreover, Emhyr ends up eventually marrying his own reason of state and comes to love the false-Cirilla. The contrasts do not end here. Real Ciri threatens to tear Emhyr’s throat out for what he is planning to do to her (unknowing that he is her father), yet with Auberon Ciri turns submissive and grows attached. She weeps over Auberon’s corpse and vows vengeance on Eredin for killing the Alder King. Ironic as Auberon never intended to let Ciri go, while Emhyr does let his daughter walk free. The shard in Auberon’s heart never melts. It shifts in Emhyr’s.
In their last meeting with the girl, both rulers implicitly reveal their blood relation to Ciri.

Cursed Rulers of the World

Emhyr’s tale begins and is framed with a curse. Likewise Auberon’s. And for both it is love in its different manifestations that will shift the curse just enough to offer closure. For healing largely entails obtaining closure.

‘They were silent for a long time. The scent of spring suddenly made them feel light-headed. Both of them. ‘In spite of appearances,’ Emhyr finally said dully, ‘being empress is not an easy job. I don’t know if I’ll be able to love you.’ She nodded to show she also knew. He saw a tear on her cheek. Just like in Stygga Castle, he felt the tiny shard of cold glass lodged in his heart shift.’ - Lady of the Lake

The reference to H. C. Andersen’s fairy tale of the Snow Queen is self-evident. Emhyr var Emreis is an Emperor whose heart has been pierced by a shard of ice. In the Saga the legend is elven and refers to the Winter Queen who conducts a Wild Hunt as she travels the land, casting hard, sharp, tiny shards of ice around her. Whose eye or heart is pierced by one of them is lost; they will abandon everything and will set off after the Queen, the one who wounded them so gravely as to become the sole aim and end of their life.
There are two ways in which to interpret the way Sapkowski applies the legend of the Snow Queen in the Saga. First, as a complement to the author’s stance that in life - where most things are shit - the Holy Grail is a woman, because it is the love of a woman and the hope a woman instils that often makes men act in inconceivable ways; love is the great motivator and the great balancer of scales. Almost as powerful as death. Or more so?

‘I would not like to put forward the theory that hunting for the wild pig was the primordial example of the search for the Grail. I don’t want to be so trivial. I will - after Parnicki and Dante - identify the Grail with the real goal of the great effort of mythical heroes. I prefer to identify the Grail with Olwen, from under whose feet, as she walked, white clovers grew. I prefer to identify the Grail with Lydia, who was loved by Parry. I like New York in June… How about you? Because I think the Grail is a woman. It is worth investing a lot of time and effort in order to find it and gain it, to understand it. And that’s the moral.’ - A. Sapkowski Swiat króla Artura. Maladie

In this reading, we find the framing to the stories of Geralt and Yennefer, Lara and Cregennan, Avallac’h and Lara, and many others. Including the story of Ciri herself – for Ciri is ultimately the author’s Grail in more ways than one. More than one party goes to great lengths to solicit her favour in a guise that includes elements of a love relationship but not the heart of it.
Secondly, we can interpret the legend in universal terms: the shard of ice is the definitive experience of our lives which distorts reality and makes the rest of our lives spin around it in one way or another. For Emhyr, such an experience could have been the trauma experienced in his youth. Fergus’ uncompromising death conditioned the boy early on to sacrifice personal feelings to the cause and let the only true feeling in his heart remain forever locked behind the ends a ruler must go to unthinkable lengths to achieve. Fergus did not deem his son above suffering for a cause and the son learned the lesson. Until…
In Andersen’s Snow Queen, Gerda manages to find her brother Kai in the Snow Queen’s castle, but despite her calls his heart remains cold as ice. Only when Gerda cries in despair do her tears finally melt the ice and remove the piece of glass from Kai’s eyes and heart. In the Witcher, the shard in Emhyr’s heart moves first upon witnessing his true daughter’s angry tears. For the second time – in thanks to the bogus princess of Cintra; his poor raison d’etat.
It brings us to the defining contrast in Emhyr’s and Auberon’s stories, and it concerns alleviating the suffering of those are bound to you by blood or love.
Recalling another case of incest that resulted in Adda the strigga, we may remember that the Temerian king recognises that his daughter is suffering and insists on disenchanting her instead of killing her. Realising that your own blood – who has been thrown into this world of suffering thanks to you – is suffering and consequently choosing to do something to alleviate this suffering fortifies the Saga’s faith in enduring human decency. Geralt himself is thoroughly vexed by the prospect of letting the same evil happen to Ciri that happened to himself and does everything within his power to prevent it (failing, trying anyway). Here lives the redemption of man, and in redemption his rebirth.

‘They passed a pond, empty and melancholy. The ancient carp released by Emperor Torres had died two days earlier. “I’ll release a new, young, strong, beautiful specimen,” thought Emhyr var Emreis, “I’ll order a medal with my likeness and the date to be attached to it. Vaesse deireadh aep eigean. Something has ended, something is beginning. It’s a new era. New times. A new life. So let there be a new carp too, dammit.”’ - Lady of the Lake

As Emhyr and false-Cirilla take a stroll in the gardens after Stygga, they pass a sculpture of a pelican pecking open its own breast to feed its young on its blood. An allegory of noble sacrifice and also of great love – as False-Ciri tells us.

‘Do you think—’ he turned her to face him and pursed his lips ‘—that a torn-open breast hurts less because of that?’ ‘I don’t know …’ she stammered. ‘Your Imperial Majesty … I …’ He took hold of her hand. He felt her shudder; the shudder ran along his hand, arm and shoulder. ‘My father,’ he said, ‘was a great ruler, but never had a head for legends or myths, never had time for them. And always mixed them up. Whenever he brought me here, to the park, I remember it like yesterday, he always said that the sculpture shows a pelican rising from its ashes.’ - Lady of the Lake

It is difficult to set aside our trauma and not pass it on to our children. Letting our children be free to choose and not sacrificing them on the altar of our fate is to rip open ourselves, calcified and bound to our path, and to feel all of it as we grope in the dark to feel for them. Emhyr’s father might not have gotten it entirely wrong, though his mind at the time was set on making his child an extension of himself. The cycle of death and rebirth begins and ends within that to which we give birth. Giving our children a chance before it is too late, we also give a chance to ourselves. By finding it in his heart to extend to his daughter the courtesy his father Fergus never extended to him - by letting Ciri free - Emhyr lets the part of himself that has defined his entire life die. His end stops justifying the means. He breaks the cycle on the edge of the precipice to which he has brought them and thus allows for the possibility of new beginnings for himself and for Ciri.
In a sense, False-Cirilla and Emhyr get the ending Ciri and Auberon might have gotten if –
If.
The story of Auberon Muircetach achieves a fundamentally different resolution.

‘What does the spear with the bloody blade mean? Why does the King with the lanced thigh suffer and what does it mean? What is the meaning of the maiden in white carrying a grail, a silver bowl—?’ - Galahad Lady of the Lake

Galahad asks the questions that the innocent Perceval in his Story of the Grail failed to ask, thus losing his chance at freeing the Fisher King from his curse. And the Fisher King is the guardian of mysteries, among them the Holy Grail. But it is not because of gain that a chivalric knight with a shining sword should seek to free the Fisher King from his curse, but rather because it is a human thing to do. Sapkowski claims to be partial to Wolfram von Eschenbach’s rendition of the Grail myth in Parsifal. Wolfram’s message, according to Sapkowski, is the following:

‘Let’s not wait for the revelation and the command that comes from above, let’s not wait for any Deus vult. Let’s look for the grail in ourselves. Because the Grail is nobility, it is the love of a neighbor, it is an ability for compassion. Real chivalric ideals, towards which it is worth looking for the right path, cutting through the wild forest, where, as they quote, “there is no road, no path”. Everyone has to find their path on their own. But it is not true that there is only one path. There are many of them. Infinitely many. … Being human is important. Heart.’ ‘I prefer the humanism of Wolfram von Eschenbach and Terry Gilliam from the idiosyncrasies of bitter Cistercian scribes and Bernard of Clairvaux…’ - A. Sapkowski Swiat króla Artura: Maladie

The unimaginable sadness in Auberon’s eyes belies the suffering of the Alder King who is the avatar of the Fisher King. In the Witcher’s story between elves and humans, it is the elven males who all share aspects of the Fisher King’s fate, because they are the keepers of their Grail – the protectors of elven women. Auberon’s wound is wrought by time: by surviving his wife and daughter, by the witnessing of the fading of his ambitions and the results of pursuing them without success. He has lost his line. The Fisher King’s injury represents the inability to produce an heir. A ruler who is the protector and physical embodiment of his land, yet remains barren, sterile, or without a true-born successor, bodes ill for the realm. The Alder King’s injury consists in having lost control of the source of his people’s power, leaving the elves imprisoned and scattered across two worlds. Auberon’s personal tragedy, however, subsists in the lost power having been functionally manifest in a daughter.

‘Lara.’ The Alder King moved his head, and touched his neck as though his royal torc’h was garrotting him. ‘Caemm a me, luned. Come to me, daughter. Caemm a me, elaine.’ Ciri sensed death in his breath. - Lady of the Lake

Elder Blood is indeed an accursed blood because it enslaves its carriers to its purpose. Emhyr has a theoretical chance to walk away from the pursuit of earthly power; the construct is social. Elder Blood, however, has a particular and real, magical function, and in virtue of being a genetic mutation it is embedded in the gene-carrying individuals. Functionally, Elder Blood allows to shape fate with degrees of freedom unimaginable for an ordinary individual. It’s a difference comparable to the one between a character in a story and the story’s author. Therefore the Aen Saevherne – the carriers of the gene – are bound to the thing they carry within their DNA that allows them to a greater and lesser degree shape the fate of reality. However dearly Auberon, or Lara, might have ever wished to untie themselves from their own essence, it seems impossible. The loss of control over power then is quite simply so pivotal as to necessitate a moment of original sin.
As already witnessed by way of the legend of the Winter Queen, the original “myths” of the Witcher world usually originate among elves; humans, the interlopers, push themselves into those myths only later. This creates an interesting conundrum. In Parsifal, the Fisher King is injured as punishment for taking a wife who is not meant for him. A Grail keeper is to marry the woman the Grail determines for him, which – if we equate woman with the Grail – is what the woman determines. Unfortunately, we know nothing about Shiadhal, so we cannot verify if this part of the legend dovetails. But generally, in a wholly elven world which may have matriarchal tendencies, in lieu of worshipping the mother Goddess, such cosmology is relatively unproblematic. Except suddenly there are humans too. And Auberon – the highest leader of elves and the father of the new scion of Elder Blood – is indirectly injured because a human sorcerer – Cregennan – turns himself into a Grail keeper (in place of another, special elf) by taking a woman not meant for him.

‘Witcher,’ she whispered, kissing his cheek, ‘there’s no romance in you. And I… I like elven legends, they are so captivating. What a pity humans don’t have any legends like that. Perhaps one day they will? Perhaps they’ll create some? But what would human legends deal with? All around, wherever one looks, there’s greyness and dullness. Even things which begin beautifully lead swiftly to boredom and dreariness, to that human ritual, that wearisome rhythm called life.’ - Yennefer Sword of Destiny

Cregennan’s injury is to die. But what about the original Fisher King figure? What is Auberon’s original sin in this?
I see two possibilities. It could be that Auberon in his ambition hastened his daughter’s way into exile and, in a display of his displeasure, never made any effort to ease his daughter in to the personal sacrifices they, as Aen Saevherne, must make; walking without blinking to the end of the path Emhyr turned away from. It could equally be that Auberon, instead of locking Lara up in a tower to protect her from the folly of youth, let her go to Cregennan. It could be an amalgam of both, and the misjudgement of a father who allows freedom, who feels for his child, and is rewarded with an irreversible injury is probably the greater tragedy.
Because, regardless of the origin of the curse upon Auberon, one thing does not change – the icy eternity in the Alder King’s heart never fractures.

‘‘Zireael,’ he said. ‘Loc’hlaith. You are indeed destiny, O Lady of the Lake. Mine too, as it transpires.’ - Auberon Lady of the Lake

Ciri passes through the shadow world of the Alders; a manifestation of fate. Her footsteps sowing discord and movement and change into the immutable, time-locked amber of the elven utopia. Her presence providing the trigger that will unshackle the past from future in a world where for a long time nothing has changed, died, or been reborn. She is destined and destiny, annihilation and rebirth, the grain of sand in the gears of the great mechanism; a strange girl. The child of hope and the Goddess who ought to be Three. Lara, the true daughter of the Alder King, is dead. Emhyr’s daughter still lives. There is nothing Auberon can do for Lara anymore and thus the ice in Auberon’s heart has crystallised. Emhyr still has a chance; he is where Auberon once was. And yet, there is one thing Ciri, the witcher girl with a sword of her own, can still do for the Alder King.

‘Va’esse deireadh aep eigean… But,’ he finished with a sigh, ‘it’s good that something is beginning.’ They heard a long-drawn-out peal of thunder outside the window. The storm was still far away. But it was approaching fast. ‘In spite of everything,’ he said, ‘I very much don’t want to die, Zireael. And I’m so sorry that I must. Who’d have thought it? I thought I wouldn’t regret it. I’ve lived long, I’ve experienced everything. I’ve become bored with everything … but nonetheless I feel regret. And do you know what else? Come closer. I’ll tell you in confidence. Let it be our secret.’ She bent forward. ‘I’m afraid,’ he whispered. ‘I know.’ ‘Are you with me?’ ‘Yes, I am.’ - Auberon Lady of the Lake

The only way Ciri the Grail knight will be able to find her true self – the Grail – is to cure the suffering Alder King from his curse. Ciri’s presence in the world of the Alders is after all also part of her coming of age story. Through becoming Auberon’s destiny, Ciri must close the circle for him and bring closure. He would never let her go because the shard in Auberon’s heart is no longer able to melt. Auberon does not follow the motif of alleviating the suffering of one’s blood and/or love; and he dies. The roles are reversed, in fact. It is Ciri who realises Auberon is suffering. So Ciri must do what only she can do, because remaining human is important. Heart is important. The sacrifice a ruler makes on the altar of power includes his own heart, which is why there should never be only one, but always two; always.

‘Time is like the ancient Ouroboros. Time is fleeting moments, grains of sand passing through an hourglass. Time is the moments and events we so readily try to measure. But the ancient Ouroboros reminds us that in every moment, in every instant, in every event, is hidden the past, the present and the future. Eternity is hidden in every moment. Every departure is at once a return, every farewell is a greeting, every return is a parting. Everything is simultaneously a beginning and an end. ‘And you too,’ he said, not looking at her at all, ‘are at once the beginning and the end. And because we are discussing destiny, know that it is precisely your destiny. To be the beginning and the end. Do you understand?’ She hesitated for a moment. But his glowing eyes forced her to answer. ‘I do.’ - Lady of the Lake

Death Crone to Auberon Muircetach, Ciri never becomes the Mother Goddess in the Saga. It is a choice she must make for herself and the choice still lies ahead of her. The predicate to making such a choice at least for now, however, she achieves; she goes her own way. In a sense then, both rulers are father figures, who through their choices “beget” the child who is destined. Perhaps this too the Knowing Ones knew, and for this reason Auberon never could have budged, never could have changed his mind in regard to his purpose in the long and winding story of his life. Something is ending, but something is also beginning. A good ruler is responsible for the flourishing of their realm, for providing hope. It is Ciri’s role to be the beginning and the end, and though there might be ways in which to nudge the hand of Fate, whatever is destined must happen. Destiny, however accursed, must run its course.
That is the hope and the release.

Took our first trip in our just over a week old MYLR. Knew beforehand that we needed to use a supercharger when coming back home. The first one we searched for and found using Tesla’s navigation, was actually in a underground parking lot and needed us to pay 25 dollars simply to use the lot. Which made sense. We ended up finding another one that was at Target. We first looked for the address on our phone maps app, realized it was a target and then went for it.
Felt like it would be nice to know what kind of building or business the supercharger is available at? What do others do in such situations. I have downloaded apps like PlugShare and ABR this morning after searching for similar experiences. Anything else I should be doing or I am missing?
We love the car and are happy to join this growing community of happy Tesla owners.

We have been together for just under a year and in all that time he has never been able to hold an erection or finish any time we've had sex. I've found 500+ videos, gifs and photos of porn hidden in different places on his phone (which he permitted me to look at) but I don't look anything at all like these women. They're all tall, blonde "ideal woman" types while I'm pretty much the complete opposite. Is he desensitised to sex? Does he have expectations that I'm not able to meet because I don't look the way they do? He will happily give me as many orgasms as he can, but it's really starting to affect me and it's making me not even want to suggest sex anymore. Every time I try to bring it up he just says "it's not you" and changes the subject. I do love him but I'm starting to wonder if I should continue in this relationship. I know sex isn't everything but a physical relationship is just as important as an emotional one to me. I've tried suggesting he speak to someone and he's agreed but keeps putting it off. I have no idea what to do, please give me some advice! <3

Part of Revelation 3, the message to the Church in Philadelphia, is about: ‘false’ Jews, being steadfast in expecting the Coming of our Lord Jesus, being removed from the earth during the Rapture, the 7 yrs of tribulation when satan will tempt many, and lure them into the beast system, etc.:
Behold, I (Jesus) will make those of the synagogue of satan - those declaring themselves to be Jews, and are not, but they lie - behold, I will cause them that they will come and will worship before thy feet, and they shall know that I have loved thee. Because thou hast kept the word of My patient endurance [patient waiting for the Coming of Jesus in the Rapture], I also will keep thee OUT OF* [out from and to another place, like in the Rapture] the hour [a certain definite time or season] of THE trial [calamity, temptation, 7yr tribulation], which shall come upon the whole inhabited world [earth], to try [to solicit to sin, to tempt] those dwelling upon the earth. I am coming quickly [does not mean "immediately" or necessarily "in a very short time" but rather "without any delay"]. Hold fast [keep carefully and faithfully] to what thou hast, that no one may take thy crown [as a prize to victors]. The one overcoming [being victorious], I will make him a pillar [of support, a rock] in the temple of My God [God’s dwelling place, God’s sanctuary], and he shall not go out anymore….
https://biblehub.com/interlinearevelation/3.htm
Always read it in its whole context, so that you get the true meaning of the living Word of God. God’s Word is meant to be living/alive for those who love and obey His voice, who are His. :)
*"out from and to"… It is one of the most under-translated (and therefore mis-translated) Greek propositions – often being confined to the meaning by (or from). Many bible versions have translated it as FROM which means something different:
Keep from vs Keep out of (I think this is important to know) https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/keep%20from to not enter (a place) >>> so KEEP OUT OF means that we are no longer in this place, this earth, after the Rapture! https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/keep%20out%20of
KEEP FROM would only mean that we wouldn’t EXPERIENCE the time of trouble during the 7 years of Tribulation. However, we would still be on earth.
Derek Prince explained the difference once if I remember well.
And what is a ‘pillar’ here? https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/pillar like in: ‘The Lord Jesus Christ has been my pillar throughout this crisis’ Mocking God and Christian believers, satan loves to use pillars as a real copycat.

Sometime around 1993-1994 my family bought a Packard Bell Media PC complete with a CD drive, Windows 3.X and a crapload of free programs. Included in the package was Jurassic Park 1993, A Chinese sliding block game, and Return to Zork. Also included was a top-down adventure maze game that I have been trying to remember for years. I remember my older brother and sister would spend hours trying to solve each maze.
The game started with a small maze that was easy to solve, but as you progressed through the game the mazes became harder and harder. The interesting thing about the game loop was that you had to find the key to complete the current maze by visiting the next maze in the game. There was a lot of adventure elements in the game like going back and forth between the mazes to find everything, unlocking locked doors with found keys and I think there was special items or chests to find too.
Additionally, the game wasn't Chips Challange, but the character was I think a 2D sprite. I also think there was hidden push walls too, because every time you pressed the use button near a wall the character would make a 'gush, gush' sound. The mazes were also mostly gray in color and were slightly beveled to look pseudo 3D. Any help with remembering this childhood game is appreciated, thank you.

Hello everyone
We're planning to do a roadtrip around the western US in spring/summer next year. At the moment we're looking at four months, from mid March to mid July. Our rough route looks like this:
Start in LA/SF, check out the Eastern Sierra and some of the national parks (Yosemite, Death Valley, Joshua Tree), then head east towards Vermillion Cliffs & Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument, Capitol Reef, Arches and Canyonlands. From there, up north to the Tetons the Sawtooths and Glacier NP and then west to the Oregon coast. This is still a very rough draft of our route but it covers the things we would like to see most.
Currently we're planning on doing the spring months (March, April, May) in the southern states before it gets too hot and spend the summer months (May, June, July) further north and more in the mountains.
So now we're at a point where we have to decide what kind of car we want to rent (buying as a foreigner seems kind of a big hassle for four months). We've done several longer road trips so far, one month in the PNW (slept in the back of a Dodge Grand Caravan) and two months each in Australia and New Zealand (both with a Toyota Hiace Hitop campervan). We also have a little bit of experience in off road driving (Australian inland and Icelandic Highlands).
We like the flexibility of a high-top campervan, being able to stand up and cook inside when the weather isn't great and to freedom camp in remote areas (I'm an astrophotographer, so being on location at night is great for me).
Of course there are many 2WD campervan rentals and that would be fine if we were just planning on doing the national parks which are all paved roads. But there are some things we would love to visit that are only accessible by unpaved roads. And that's the part where I'd like to gather some insights from people with more experience. I know we wouldn't get by with only a 2WD campervan (even if the rental would allow dirt/gravel roads) so my question is: would it make more sense to have a comfortable camper for 90% of the trip and rent a 4WD for a couple of days when we get to some of the off-road areas or should we get a good 4WD cacamper for the entirety of the trip to be more flexible but maybe a bit less comfortable (4 months in a rooftop tent seems very dependent on the weather). Would a 4WD Sprinter van work?
Here's some places that we'd want to visit and that I know are only accessible via dirt or gravel roads:

• Eureka Sand Dunes (some say 2WD is fine as long as the weather is good)
• Yant Flat (2WD accessible in dry conditions?)
• Buckskin Gulch (again, some say 2WD should work, others say 4WD necessary)
• Vermillion Cliffs (I guess the Coyote Buttes can be done with 2WD, but White Pocket absolutely needs a 4WD)
• The area south of Escalante: Zebra/Tunnel/Peek-a-boo slots, Coyote Gulch (no way with a 2WD)
• Capitol Reef (Temple of the Sun and Moon has some 2WD reports, but Cathedral Valley seems 4WD only)
• Smoky Mountain Road (has some river crossings depending on the weather)

Grateful for any tips and insights!

I've been to Warsaw once in 2017, and I've never been again, so you could say I don't know the city.
I'm planning to move at the end of this year, and I want to look at apartment prices and look for options beforehand.
I work remotely, from home, so there won't be a need to commute daily to a business center or something
I would like to have somewhere to walk near the house, maybe a park or lake.
Also would like to have a gym with a pool nearby.
Once a week I'd like to go to cafes or restaurants and go to standup, so I'd like to have a standup club no more than 30 minutes away by car or Uber.
A couple times a month I would like to attend meetups, IT, marketing events, lectures. And 2-3 times a week to attend Polish courses - or would they be better taken online, what do you recommend?
Oh, and also, we have a car, so it would be cool to have a parking space near the house. For the money, of course, maybe underground parking.
Thanks in advance! :)

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See this a lot on this sub and wanted to give my thoughts so people'd ask less, i guess?
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My time to shine for once. *Cracks knuckles*
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1.) The first single being Young and Menace was...I don't wanna say a stupid decision but not the smartest one. Its the most different song on the album and for your first taste of it to be something so radically different than normal was not a good thing. Its why even more experimental albums from bands/musicians usually have the first single from them be something closer to what the fans are used to and expect.
2.) They changed and didn't evolve. Evolution is when you take a core and keep it the same, but add new spices and sauces to it. Change is just...change. Its the difference between changing your burger recipe by adding new ingredients and making burgers but then suddenly switching to sushi. Look at Waterparks. They're still pop punk at their core, they still have the same feel and vibe, but they added elements from electronica and hip hop in order to feel different while staying the same heart. Same with Sum 41, they still have their snotty pop punk vibe and feel, but they added metal elements and more serious themes to evolve. Both are valid, but both are different. It felt more like change than evolution, which a lot of people hate, especially when people call it evolution.
3.) It was changing in a way that felt...and I HATE using this word....Sellout/cash grabby. In a lot of cases, a band like...lets say Waterparks...changing sounds comes across as "Oh we wanted to add something to our core sound to make something new". Mania felt more like 'Whats popular rn? Trappy stuff? kk got it. Oh Centuries did well, let's make Champion as Centuries 2.0" instead of thinking those changes would benefit your sound.
4.) Timing, honestly. 2017-2018 was a bad era for rock music. Every band in the same sphere as Fall Out Boy made their least rock aligned album at the time. Panic at the Disco dropped rock entirely after DOAB for PFTW, Sleeping with Sirens went from screamo metal to slightly rock tinged pop, All Time Low made a poppy record, Linkin Park made a poppy record. It felt like yet ANOTHER band that got rid of the guitars and just went pop to make money and be more popular. Not saying they DID that or that this is inherantly a bad thing, but it felt like it.

Our hotel has been operating under extremely diminished availability due to top-to-bottom renovations going on. Therefore I have maybe 8 rooms to sell, the rest are blocked off for construction and occupied by the crew doing the work. For almost 2 weeks we've only had around 5 check ins a day. I've been enjoying just babysitting the building on my shifts and haven't encountered the same problems I'm used to. But this also opens the door to problems I'm not used to and may never see again.
It's around 10pm and I'm finishing my checklist. When I rolled the mop bucket into position I noticed someone was parked outside, facing the opposite direction of traffic in the carport. Normally this wouldn't be so unsettling but I was currently aware of a few things: we had no arrivals left, they would have had to drive past literal miles of empty parking lot to get here, and the vehicle is a comedically on-the-nose representation of a "creeper van." I stood inside the doorway, outside their field of vision, formulating my next steps.
I waited for them to come in and announce themselves like a normal person but in they did not come. Close to ten minutes passed before I decided it was time for a power move. I slid my coat on and walked outside to "hit my vape," positioning myself directly parallel to the drivers window. My goal was to let them know I was aware of their presence and I dont trust them. In reality I was motionless, dead staring at the silhouettes in the front seats, likely not displaying the intimidating attentiveness I was aiming for.
From what I saw, there were two people in the van. One appeared to be a man, he sat in the driver's seat facing forward out the windshield. The passenger looked like a woman, she was in her seat turned toward the driver. There's no doubt in my mind she could see me. They were talking about something, their body language signaled a possible disagreement or stress over the topic of discussion. It didn't seem like their exchange was escalating, which was comforting. Once I thought I they got the message I went back inside.
I returned to my original vantage point just inside the automatic doors, watching them where they couldn't see. I tossed around the idea of calling the cops but our part time night auditor called so many times for no reason I think they started putting our calls on the lowest priority (she's a whole story, currently a WIP). If cops showed up and they were already gone I was surely in for condescending curtness and an insincere salutation, followed by a return to being alone. Instead I thought it might be better to call our sister property next door, just to let someone know I'm facing an uncertain situation. The idea of going back outside, approaching the vehicle, and telling them to go elsewhere crossed my mind. This, however, would be one of the most foolish and dangerous things to do. My final decision was to just begin mopping and allow them 10 more minutes before I called the law.
I was working on the stretch of floor just inside the entrance when I saw a female enter (and wALK ON MY FRESH FLOOR but I digress). She was skeletally thin with a face weathered from years of some kind of substance use. As she advanced into the building she greeted me with the kind of tone you use when you're about to ask a favor. She fidgeted with her hands as she asked what we were doing with all the furniture in the dumpster. I knew if I let slip it was all going to the landfill after being rained and snowed on, that would lead them to entering the enormous industrial waste container full of hazardous trash and shrapnel. Not to mention it was almost 10:30 pm so they wouldn't be able to see a thing in there, increasing the likelihood of injuries they would no doubt blame us for.
Thinking on my toes, I told her it was all going to a resale site. This implied it was worth something to us and taking anything would be legally actionable. Technically it wasn't a lie, it was the original plan until being left in the elements. She followed with asking where specifically because she really wanted some of the stuff. The only thing I was told about where they were going was some nondescript resale warehouse. I apologized and explained that I didn't know any details, smiling just the right amount.
Upon hearing my no, she turned slightly like she was about to leave. But some infernal specter took hold of her and she uttered the phrase that makes every service professional nauseous. "Can I speak to the manager?"
I gently stated there was no one available to talk to her as I was the only employee in the building. She chuckled at this and said "but there's ALWAYS someone higher up I can talk to..." Beginning to lose my patience, I shortly informed her that we don't have a manager here 24 hours. She continued to ask if I was really the only person in the building, like she thought I was making it up. I gave her an innocent smile and repeated that it was just me, as if to say "you're not gonna rattle me and get what you want, but I won't stop you from trying." This is a tactic I've learned that gets potential karens to ask themselves how rude they're willing to be to someone who's been nothing but nice. She went on to ask who I was and what my position is, with an inflection like she was trying to figure out how much to respect me. I activated my trap card and told her that since I was the only employee on site, that would make me manager on duty. The superiority I felt in this moment is unparalleled.
For a moment there was silence. Silence and smiling. This took the wind out of her sails and she walked out the automatic door. Right before it closed she shouted back at me "is it because I'm wearing PJs??" I barked no but I'm not sure if they heard me. I felt compelled to catch them before they left and give them a point by point breakdown of all the reasons I said no. Most of which being the fact that they spent the last half hour scaring the shit out of me with no consideration. But as peeved as I may have been, I was happy to see they were leaving, the best possible ending to this scenario.
I would love to know how they learned we were undergoing renovations, our hotel is off the beaten path and isn't visible from from any main roads. Guests call several times a week for directions, I even got lost on my way to the interview. If you're not looking you'd have no idea it's there. I wonder if they'd been there before, sizing the place up. Or maybe one of our employees told their friends. Where I stand at the desk we have a limited view of the outside and no cameras. For all I know they've been there before and I had no idea. I can't even begin to tell you how inconvenient that is, not to mention how unsafe. If they come back and get stuck in that dumpster, I may just conveniently not hear any cries for help. The way I see it, every minute they're in there is another reason to never do it again. Moral of the story is, if you know you drive a creeper van, try not to reinforce the stereotype.

I'm trying to recreate some fairly simply images from v4, and instead it's missing key features. Really frustrating, much preferred V4 style of text input

Hi guys, as I was walking by on a sidewalk of a parking lot, a homeless women that was stealing a car from a Doordash driver ran into me (while she was driving) pretty fast and pushed me through a building. Obviously 911 and the emergency came over picked me up and took me all the way to UCLA hospital where I stayed for 10 hours straight. Therefore my question is do you guys knows which attorney should I hire to handle that case. I reached out to Wilshire Law firm and Abgin Law but one is being greedy and the other sounds too good to be true. I’ve never dealt with attorney through my life so I’m kind of lost in the process so far. Who do you recommend me to work with ?

Sooo I am a fan of having a enclosure for every dino and not a few big and put alot different in them.
how do you make it mostly ? and dont most dinos hate or attack each other anyways ?
but the problem with putting every species in its own enclosure is that I ran out of space of the parks it feels like.