Use name tag minecraft

I'm 14, and I just got back from an 8th grade overnight field trip. Before the trip, we organized groups of four to stick together with and room with. I didn't get into a group because I'm not very popular and I don't have a friend group. I was assigned to a group of three kids (who hadn't been able to find a fourth member) who I didn't know very well. They were all in a friend group.
I didn't know these kids well, so I thought being with them would be okay. However, the kids in my group turned out to be horrible. They neglected me, ordered me around, stole my stuff, and borderline physically abused me. They made disturbing and violent "jokes" about beating me, trapping me in the hotel room, and even gang raping me (these comments were all for fun - to make each other laugh - and they did not actually intend to do these things, but it was still verbally abusive and very unsettling). They wouldn't let me walk around with them in public or sit with them at dinner, even though that was the school's policy for groups (to ensure order and safety). They made me sleep on the floor (crammed into the corner so I wouldn't take up space), and directed when I could shower and where I sat on the bus. I felt like a slave.
When I woke up the second morning, I was traumatized and miserable. Their treatment of me only worsened. When I got home, I had a panic attack. After I calmed down, I took a shower, then went straight up to my computer to write this and ask online for help.
I am thinking about complaining to the principal. The kids I was with all have bad track records at school and are close to getting severe consequences.
However, even though what the kids did was horrible, I do not think reporting them is a good idea. They all have horrible parents and bad home lives. None of them have many friends. Even if they were horrible to me, I do not think that they are bad people; I believe they are just misguided and abused. Like I said, they have horrible parents.
Also, I don't think they really understood how badly they were treating me. They are very rough, and they were constantly fighting with each other - sometimes horseplaying, sometimes seriously fighting. Throughout the trip, they continuously chose to put themselves (as individuals) first - for example, cutting each other in line. They enjoyed punching each other and calling each other profane names. I assume that their parents are not good role models and the kids have not been taught character.
Lastly, I know that revenge is never the answer. I will gain nothing out of reporting these kids. We graduate to high school in a couple weeks, so it's not like there's much of a risk of something like this happening again.
I do not know what to do about this. Should I complain to the principal? Tell the guidance counselor? Talk to my therapist? I have not talked to anyone about this, and I told my parents that I did not want to talk to them until I had asked someone anonymously. My parents are very worried that something much worse happened, like me being molested or physically beaten, but I am refusing to talk to them. I feel much more comfortable talking to people anonymously.
Though I am traumatized, I AM NOT UNSAFE. This experience has not made me suicidal or mentally unstable. I am physically and mentally okay. I do not feel threatened or scared.
Thank you so much for taking your time to read this.
DISCLAIMER: I have never used reddit; I am only posting here because I am in need of urgent help. I am sorry if this post is inappropriate for this subreddit. If it is inappropriate, I will take it down.

I relatively recently started a playthrough on Heart Gold and I've essentially just been letting the game decide my team for me through mostly shiny hunting and in game trades. So far this is easily the most unique team I've ever used. I got a shiny Chikorita as my starter and I ended up finding a shiny Pineco while looking for a Heracross. And I'm using the Voltorb named Billy you can trade for in Olivine as well as a 1% encounter Snubbull I came acrossed. I think I'm going to passively shiny hunt the last team member in Kanto, but we'll see if I find anything.

First off I want to thank this group for the immense help and support it has given me the entire time I have been awaiting my sentencing.
Today I have received word form my attorney that the government has decided to now not agree to the downward variance that they have said they would agree too for the last 10 months. This isn't the first time they screwed me. My attorney said they would allow me to turn myself in with him and instead when they arrested me sent 50 agents with guns drawn, 15 local officers and a helicopter. I have never once been in trouble, do not own or ever applied for any guns but they took me down like it was a Hollywood movie. The did this on purpose knowing my attorney and family were out of town and then left me on the side of the road from court with no shoes or ability to find a ride to get home. I was able to take care of that with great difficulty.
I waived my right to trial and to took a plea for 1 count out of the 5 I was facing for interstate threats. The government has decided to once again and go back on their word and requested a full 24 months with a year of supervised release. They decided to do this as they felt it necessary to punish me to the full extent as a way to deter others in the future to do the crime I committed. Basically they want to use me so future cases can cite me as a source for that future case and punishment.
I have complied with everything they have asked for, have never missed a check in with my Probation officer while out on bond and pretrial probation. I have never missed a call from them or played any games. I have passed all drug tests, and have allowed them into my home anytime they requested. They have gone back on their word so many times even though I have done everything they have asked that I now have no trust for any government official or law authorities. Sadly I still respect them as fighting them only will make matters worse. My attorney had asked for 10-16 months which the government was in agreement with but they keep going back on what they agree too which yes was in writing. Sentencing is next Thursday the 8th and I am prepared to be taken to federal prison at this time. My attorney requested somewhere close my family can visit but I am sure they will fuck me over on that too, why not they have not been cooperative with me since the start. This entire case is so one FBI agent can make a name for themselves and that just sucks. I have learned the hard way any elected official can make public statements of hate and violence and they are protected. I went back at this person using their words and now I am going to prison while they are not stopped at all. I have lost my career, my home and my good name. I have never once been in any trouble and now will be a felon which makes me a villain to the rest of the free world. I am not a bad person, I just couldn't take the hate speech being spread so constantly. It also sucked that social media continued to target me with this stuff to further infuriate me but they get a free pass now too.
I am sorry this is such a long post, this has been the only place I can share my story and vent some without feeling judged negatively. I have tried to stay positive but I am just so defeated at this point and have no idea what to expect going forward it just drains me. This group has taught me that there are many good people who are felons that just messed up and suffer the consequences for life. I only hope that I can one day be successful again and have my own family and if given the chance to help another felon out like me who wants their life back. I thank everyone here for your positivity and helping me throughout this time I await my sentencing to federal prison.

Ok so first things first I'm a Newbie on this sub so if I sound old and not caught up with the program... I am but with honest intentions I'm not playing dumb.
I always knew about The Duggars from the very beginning back with they had their first special 14 kids and counting and she gave birth to Jackson. Watched all the way until Jill got married then I sorta fell off. I know pretty much everyone from the boy twins up got married and started their own cult family starting the cycle all over again. I believe I hear rumors of Jackson looking to court soon but anyways, I have some underrated questions about this family that to me are as disturbing if not more then Josh's sick mindset. And they are as follows:
•How in the hell did Grandma Duggar drown??? Why was an elderly woman near an open body of water anyway? I thought the family didn't have a pool
•Why do Michelle and Jim Bob keep buying used clothing for the poor kids still living at home? I mean not that clothing from second hand stores is bad and you should only buy designer brand names. But considering you assholes had a show for over 10 years AND you own commercial real estate. You'd think the kids could be able to at least get some nice new stuff here and there
•Why is Michelle's Nephew (if he still is) living with the family? Whenever a child is taken away by their parents from the state and given to another family member it's not a good sign. My mother used to work in Foster care, she told me stories and I assume Michelle's Nephew's is quite similar
•Where's Anna and all their kids staying? Who's taking care of them? I know in their stupid cult the men usually are the providers. I know as a fact Anna isn't getting a real job (she never went to school for a degree or anything not that I can remember) and I know she can't support and take care of 6-7 (however many they have) all by herself.
This last one comes from something my brother told me back when we watched the show and it fucking disgusted me so much that I want to see if it's true or not •Is it true starting from the age 14 they take all the girls and start asking them what they want in a husband and for the boys they start from the age of puberty they teach them not to touch themselves and that any waste of semen is murdering the children God wanted them to have?
So that's all my questions I had about this family. Again I maybe not up to speed like most of the users here I apologize but tbf when you take into account of all the gross things they've done over the years, you kinda can't blame someone for not watching them or keeping track of then for awhile (if any at all)

Howdy all,
I just got a new Legion Pro 5i Gen 8, I've been using it off an on the last week or so but I'm having issues with it. It frequently crashes while gaming, no performance issues whatsoever, everything will be running smooth and then a sudden freeze. I don't think it is overheating, I'm yet to see the gpu break 81 degrees and it tends to stay around 75-78, I've also got a cooling pad that I used for my old laptop helping to keep it cool. A couple of days I experienced no crashes at all, but some days I get crashes every 10 or so minutes. It tends to happen in more performance heavy games, but has happened a few times in games that are not at all that demanding. Here's a list to name a few if it helps: Darktide Insurgency Sandstorm For Honor Cities Skylines Red Dead Redemption 2 Total War: Shogun 2 I've tried looking up the issue online, but nothing quite sounded like my problem. In any case, I've tried some of the recommended fixes, and none have solved the issue. I've made sure my drivers are updated, tried rolling back to old drivers, tried disabling hybrid mode, tried disabling HDR, I've tested for memory leaks but came back with nothing, I honestly have no idea what to do and was hoping you guys could help. Thanks!

So I'm gonna do my final year project and the topic I selected was Sentiment analytics dashboard using react as a frontend and Spring boot as a backend for one of the top MNCs. I know Java isn't the best for doing this but I'm not familiar with Python and what I wanna know is are the Social media APIs free to do so? I tried LinkedIn now but they require the Company name and all just to create an app in their profile. Any idea how to approach this? I planning to integrate 4 or 5 social media APIs.

I need to vent. Like the post says, my father (who is 78) is computer illiterate. The problem is, he persists in trying to use a computer. Let me explain: he decided that he wants to write his thoughts down, and he got a laptop to achieve this goal. He's CONSTANTLY calling me to help him. And I mean, "calling me" in the original sense of "yell someone's name", which is extra annoying. He's deleted files by mistakes, he's deleted paragraphs by mistakes, he doesn't open documents in the right app (long story short, he didn't want to pay for a Microsoft Word subscription, I found him a free alternative, but he keeps on opening the docs in Word) he zooms in 400% into the document and doesn't know how to fix it, he doesn't know how to do spellcheck etc... I've shown him countless times how to fix these issues on his own, but nothing sticks in his brain. The thing that annoys me the most is that when he has these issues, he doesn't respect the fact that I'm currently busy with other stuff and don't have the time to help him right then and there.
I've suggested he gets a typewriter instead since that's technology he should be familiar with, but he doesn't want to. He likes the spell check function that's in the writing app. I also don't know why my other siblings aren't called on to fix his computer problems (they're as tech-savvy as I am).
So has anyone found a solution to old parents using new technology? Is anyone else frustrated by their parents not knowing how to use computers?

⛏ The 'Minelanders ⛏
Server address: mc.minelanders.com
Version: 1.19.4 [Java Edition]
Discord: https://discord.gg/QeBkd3Z
Overview:
The 'Minelanders is in its 5th Summer Server Edition now! Our new server opened on May 19th, and the community pitched in to create an incredible new spawn. We're a server with plenty to offer! We believe that Minecraft can be inherently political and strategic when other players get involved. So whether you are interested in building grand designs, griefing and PvP, growing an influential clan, running a commercial empire, or even just playing some Minecraft with a regular crowd, you are a part of something bigger than just yourself. Feel free to join the Discord, explore our community built spawn, and talk with the active community to see if you’re interested in playing on the server. And any time you're ready to start - survival is only 50 blocks away. Hope to see you playing on the 'Minelanders soon!
Vanilla Reimagined
General Information
We love the potential of vanilla Minecraft but feel some aspects of the game have not been properly balanced to allow for vanilla to flourish. Through the use plugins and extensive player feedback we have rebalanced villager trading, Elytras, autofarms, and more. No longer is there one "right" way to play, as we have allowed for all sorts of other forms of gameplay to be valid!
Features

• Currently a new player town has been founded for players looking for company at -650 150.
• We have clans, which allow you to team up with existing players or make your own clan with your friends.
• We offer plot protection in four sizes for in-game currency. You have to earn them! Note: Plots intentionally do NOT protect chests - only blocks.
• We have player shop plots available in spawn to sell things to other players. Our admin shops are already set up for players to earn money.
• The map size is limited to keep players relatively close - but it is still spacious with a 6k block diameter. The Nether has been increased in size (3:1 ratio rather than 8:1) to compensate for the smaller map.
• Donations to keep the server running are welcome, but give no in game advantages.

Rules:

1. Play in good faith
2. Be respectful of other players
3. No asking for stuff, advertising, or being annoying
4. Griefing is allowed, Lavacasting is not
5. No cheating
6. Alt accounts must be known to staff
7. No releasing personal information about another player
8. Circumventing intended server behavior is prohibited

Pictures from the last edition of the server It's too early for big builds in this edition!
Our resident small business, The Tiny Tavern
TRS main base
Vix's Cottage
Bina's Parenting School
Ponlm00's Wild West
Whysobad's Hogwarts
Our server has opportunity for building great things with the protection of plots, but don't forget to be cautious! Some players have sticky fingers.

I'm using clumping version of Tidycats litter and it seems to me that it used to be great, but sometime in the last couple of years I began to notice that the specifically named clumping type just isn't clumping anymore. I have no idea if they changed it or how, but, I'm ready to try something different.
I just want clumping litter because that's the easiest to deal with. Any advice? Does anything out there even clump properly anymore?

⛏ The 'Minelanders ⛏
Server address: mc.minelanders.com
Version: 1.19.4 [Java Edition]
Discord: https://discord.gg/QeBkd3Z
Overview:
The 'Minelanders is in its 5th Summer Server Edition now! Our new server opened on May 19th, and the community pitched in to create an incredible new spawn. We're a server with plenty to offer! We believe that Minecraft can be inherently political and strategic when other players get involved. So whether you are interested in building grand designs, griefing and PvP, growing an influential clan, running a commercial empire, or even just playing some Minecraft with a regular crowd, you are a part of something bigger than just yourself. Feel free to join the Discord, explore our community built spawn, and talk with the active community to see if you’re interested in playing on the server. And any time you're ready to start - survival is only 50 blocks away. Hope to see you playing on the 'Minelanders soon!
Vanilla Reimagined
General Information
We love the potential of vanilla Minecraft but feel some aspects of the game have not been properly balanced to allow for vanilla to flourish. Through the use plugins and extensive player feedback we have rebalanced villager trading, Elytras, autofarms, and more. No longer is there one "right" way to play, as we have allowed for all sorts of other forms of gameplay to be valid!
Features

• Currently a new player town has been founded for players looking for company at -650 150.
• We have clans, which allow you to team up with existing players or make your own clan with your friends.
• We offer plot protection in four sizes for in-game currency. You have to earn them! Note: Plots intentionally do NOT protect chests - only blocks.
• We have player shop plots available in spawn to sell things to other players. Our admin shops are already set up for players to earn money.
• The map size is limited to keep players relatively close - but it is still spacious with a 6k block diameter. The Nether has been increased in size (3:1 ratio rather than 8:1) to compensate for the smaller map.
• Donations to keep the server running are welcome, but give no in game advantages.

Rules:

1. Play in good faith
2. Be respectful of other players
3. No asking for stuff, advertising, or being annoying
4. Griefing is allowed, Lavacasting is not
5. No cheating
6. Alt accounts must be known to staff
7. No releasing personal information about another player
8. Circumventing intended server behavior is prohibited

Pictures from the last edition of the server It's too early for big builds in this edition!
Our resident small business, The Tiny Tavern
TRS main base
Vix's Cottage
Bina's Parenting School
Ponlm00's Wild West
Whysobad's Hogwarts
Our server has opportunity for building great things with the protection of plots, but don't forget to be cautious! Some players have sticky fingers.

I recently made a post about getting started with BFS fishing and I got some really good advice on there. Since my research into good rods and reels has started in earnest, I've heard a couple times now that reels like the Curado BFS, one with a price tag that's on the high end for my wallet, beeds tuning and possibly aftermarket stuff like spools to actually help it cast better for weights down to 1/32.
I'll likely largely use my BFS setup for 1/16oz hard baits like jerkbaits and the like, but I'd still like the flexibility to throw the good old 1/32oz jig head and soft plastic, but if I'm going to sink a few hundred bucks into a reel, I'd want something that can do what I'd need it to without the need for an additional almost $100 spool. I do not, however, mind making adjustments to the stick reel (like removing grease from gears/bearings which I hear is a "problem" I might encounter).
I'm strongly considering the Dobyns BFS rod and have heard very good things about the Daiwa Alphas Air. I know that reel is even pricier than the Curado, but if it allows me to do what I want to and saves me money in the long run by not requiring much aftermarket work, I'll definitely take a hard look at it.
On that topic, I've seen the reel on Amazon for as low as ~$230. Is that a price tag should cause red flags for me since the reel on BaitFinesseEmpire is more than $300? Thanks in advance and my apologies for the 20 questions as a beginner in this avenue of fishing.

Hello! I just started content review and am also in the process of learning/setting up Anki for when I begin to use it alongside the Kaplan chapters. I just had a few questions about the software. For reference, I have downloaded the newest vanilla version of the Anking Deck (which incorporates Milesdown and has tags by Kaplan chapters).

1. How can I physically (like button wise) unsuspend cards as I read each chapter of a Kaplan book for a certain section?
2. What add-ons should I download/add onto the vanilla Anking deck? Currently I am thinking of adding these: special fields, heirarchial tags, hint hotkeys, clickable tags, edit field during review, better search, and heatmap.
3. Where in the Anki software do I paste the download code for the add-ons? The add-ons link says to copy & paste the code directly into Anki 2.1.
4. Is it better to do questions by subsections/subjects or all together?

Thanks so much!

Clan Name: Grey Zone Clan Tag: ZOGR
We are a fairly relaxed Level 13 clan looking for players that can 1 or 2 key UNM.
★ We down BRUTAL/NM/UNM daily. ★ We take down Normal and Hard Hydra. ★ CvC - 80k Most of our members do +100k. Currently in Tier 4. ★ Discord required for communication. https://discord.gg/exBPrEhwSu ★ Minimum Player Power: 4M ★ That's it, just play.
In a nutshell, we take down Brutal/NM/UNM, everyone is active during CvC and gets the 80k point minimum, and everyone follows our clan quest rules (which can be found on our Discord).
If you're interested, you can contact us on Discord https://discord.gg/exBPrEhwSu , or in game. If you apply in game, make sure to include your Clan Boss damage in your application message. I can't reply to those messages, so unless you put something like "UNM 2 key, NM 1 key" or "UNM 40M per key" I will have no idea, and your application will be rejected.

I am a 22m just finishing my second year of university, despite this this year has been quite a rollercoaster of emotions and this part begins here:
2021 I lost my mother, I found her. I honestly can't describe the feeling and aftermath that this has caused, but what I can explain is my life feels like it's ending even knowing everything I have going for me and I just want it to end. No matter what I do and what ever happens, I don't want to be here anymore. I'm currently thinking about slitting my arms and just ending this pain.
I can't sleep, I can't concentrate and have no interest in continuing. I think my shoulder end quicker than it began.
When I was 16 I was introduced to one hell of a amazing woman, it was a soul mate situation, however this was when I started to suffer with depression and my brain sabotaged this relationship by being stupid and mean over twitter, and to ruin this womans life completey by causing her more pain than she ever deserved ever, and I deserve the guilt from my actions and believe I should suffer for the rest of my life.
To her, I'm sorry and I wasn't there like I am now mentally, I would never ask for forgiveness but for you to at least understand that I was stupid and immature and wasn't ready for someone like you but you was perfect in every way.
Forwarding about 10 months later, I found my current partner who I have been with for the last 4/ nearly 5 years and have built a life with.
With out her I would be dead right now, you have healed me through my depression and built me up to become a much better person just by being there for me, everyday with your smile, holding your hand (even when I complain your grip isn't tight enough 😂), all the new experience you have introduced me to like going to concerts and to new places I would have never gone. All I can think about is our first kiss in that smoking area where we met and your beautiful face that hasn't changed a day from the day I met you. Even so long in our relationship never a day goes by where I don't miss or say I love you and or that you're beautiful. My beautiful duchess all I can say is I love you forever and always saryna( not real name ofc) ♥️, if I do what Im thinking tonight, I just want to say you're beautiful and you need to continue with your life, not forgetting about me but using my help and confidence I gave you to your fullest even meeting someone else and or being yourself without other people saying other wise.
It's about 2am UK time and hopefully not my last words, I love you little one, I hope you have sweet dreams and I love you always and forever. Goodbye

I’ve been waiting to talk about this. I’ve been looking for others with similar experiences, or… I dunno. Maybe I hoped I was insane. Months have passed, and I still don’t have the slightest idea what to believe. But no matter what is true and what isn’t, the memory of what happened to me is as true as can be.
And every time I put my hand to a door, I tremble.
I was looking for a house in the surrounding area. I know, being a homeowner at 27 seems like a dream. I know I’ve been fortunate. Even so, I wanted something remote, spacious, and comparably cheap.
I’d been looking for something nearby, but everything even close to a larger city quickly ran out of my price range. It wasn’t until I started looking at the rural outskirts that I started to see something realistic.
I’d been to four open house showings in the past week when I came across an ad that looked too good to be true. Another open house, but this one was just perfect. Apparently, they were looking to make a quick sale after a previous deal had fallen through.
I made my way to a small nearby town called Tomskog. There was a little billboard with a blue sunflower greeting me, and I took a hard right down a street named “Sunplenty Road”. There were only five houses there, and the one I came to look at was at the far end. Even from a distance, I could tell I wasn’t the only visitor.
I parked on the street outside and took in the sights. There was an “Open House” sign outside, again with the sunflower logo. There was a separate garage, and the house itself was smaller than expected. Homely, but small.
I was greeted by a cheerful man. He had thick glasses, a receding hairline, and the kind of “fun uncle” smile that told me he could get away with anything.
“Come on in,” he said. “You’re gonna love it.”
There was me, the realtor, and three other people. A middle-aged couple, and a younger woman. She had this messy black hair that kept poking her in the eye. Even at a glance I could tell the young woman was distraught. She wasn’t even looking around the house, she seemed more interested in the people wandering about.
The house had a simple and open layout. The bottom floor had a bathroom, a separate study room, an adjoining kitchen, and a lounge area. There were stairs leading to a sort of catwalk on the second floor, making the main room wide open. The second floor had another bathroom, a bedroom, and a guest room.
It had this sort of sullen 70’s vibe with grey and white flower-patterned wallpaper. There were little scuffs and tears pretty much everywhere, but the house itself seemed… fine.
The realtor, Anders, showed me all the details of the kitchen. He assured me that most of the appliances were to be replaced before the next homeowner moved in, and proudly displayed the new garbage disposal. It was a nice enough setup, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the young woman standing outside the study. I got the feeling that she was standing guard.
As the middle-aged couple walked downstairs, they asked her they could have a look.
“No,” she answered, with a shrug. “You can’t.”
“Don’t mind her,” Anders the realtor smiled. “Of course you can.”
“No,” she insisted. “They can’t.”
Anders walked up to her and leaned in. His demeanor shifted. They argued back and forth, and I could hear her repeat, over and over;
“This is not what we agreed to.”
The middle-aged couple and I just looked at one another. While the realtor and the young woman argued, we introduced ourselves. I smiled and gave them my name. They were named Helen and Sebastian, or ‘Seb’ for short. Typical midwestern salt-of-the-earth kind of people. They were suffering from an empty nest and seemed to want a place to start over. They made no secret about being interested in the place, although Helen wasn’t sure about having no direct access to the garage. Seb, on the other hand, wasn’t sure about the soil. He wanted a proper garden, and the soil seemed ill-fit to sustain greenery.
“Still,” Helen smiled. “Best place we’ve seen so far.”
“Sure is,” added Seb, giving Helen a little shake.
Anders kept arguing with the young woman. I could overhear her name as Whitney, and she was not willing to cooperate. Finally, Anders just pushed past her, putting his keys in the lock.
“Right this way, we’ll just take a quick peek.”
“We’re not done in there,” she said. “You can’t just-“
“It was supposed to be packed up, Whitney. I can’t help that you’re late.”
“That’s not… please. Give me an hour.”
“You’ve had plenty of hours.”
He clicked the door open and pushed it in. The three of us gave Whitney an apologetic look as we stepped inside.
The study was a mess. Old clothes strewn across various furniture, loose papers and books haphazardly thrown across a musky desk. An entire wall of bookshelves full of textbooks, ranging from discrete mathematics to philosophical physics. I stood there for a few seconds, taking it all in. Whitney pushed past us, grabbing an empty box from the floor.
“Don’t touch anything,” she sighed. “Just… look at it, and leave.”
Anders leaned over to us, lowering his voice.
“You have to excuse her,” he whispered. “There were some… complications, with the former owner.”
“Oh, she’s… the, uh, the daughter?” Seb asked.
Anders nodded.
While Anders told us about the east-facing windows and the top-of-the-line air conditioning system, I couldn’t help but to keep my eyes on Whitney. She was rummaging through the desk, dropping mementos, pictures, and notebooks into one of her many cardboard boxes. I could tell she was sleep deprived. She kept yawning.
Helen seemed eager to just leave Whitney to her grieving, while Seb kept to the practical details. He checked the hardwood floor, the insulation on the windows, the wall linings for pests. At one point, he almost knocked over a coffee table, and Whitney came running. She caught a vase that was about to topple off the table.
“Don’t… don’t touch anything!” she cried out. “Just… if you have to be here, stay… stay still!”
“I’m, uh… sorry,” Seb said. “I was just-“
“Just go over there!”
She waved her hands around, shaking the vase. There was a little rattle coming from it.
She shook it again, and I could see the color fade from her cheeks. Carefully, she tipped the vase, and something dark plopped into her hand.
A large bronze key.
Whitney pulled her hand back, letting the bronze key clatter to the floor. She covered her mouth, forgetting how to exhale. We just looked at her having what seemed, to us, like a mental breakdown.
“Nobody move,” she gasped. “Nobody… do anything.”
We all just stood there. Helen and Seb barely breathed, and I was suddenly hyper-aware of how still my feet were. Anders wasn’t impressed. If anything, he was fed up with this. He rolled his eyes, and picked up the key.
“Whitney, I’m sorry, you’re gonna have to wait outside.”
“Please, put… put that down.”
“You can put it with your things and take it outside.”
“Just… don’t move, you don’t know what you’re-“
Anders opened the door, stepped out of the study, and headed straight for the front door. Whitney dropped everything and ran after him. The rest of us followed suit.
“Wait!” she called out. “Please wait!”
As soon as Anders put his hand on the front door, Whitney stopped dead in her tracks.
“Anders, please, I’m sorry,” she said. “Just step away. Give me the key. I’ll leave, I promise. I swear.”
“That’s enough of that.”
“No!”
He opened the door and took a step forward. The bronze key passed the threshold.
We’d all stepped into the main lounge by now, and I heard the door to the study slam shut. There was a sort of pressure shift, making the wind move through the main lounge. Every door in the house slid shut with a click. All except the front door, which was wide open.
But there was nothing there.
Not nothing as in no one standing there. No, nothing as in “a nothing”. Just a blank, black space.
A viscous fluid where sunlight ought to be.
Endless, abyssal, ocean.
I stared at it, mesmerized. The contrast of the bright sun coming in from the windows, bouncing off the ripples of this deep ocean doorway.
And there, in the dark, humanoids. Tall, elongated silhouettes.
Anders stepped back, but it was as if parts of him refused to move. His arms were locked in place, seemingly by an invisible force. And as he stepped back, something started pulling him in.
His limbs grew long and twisted. His knees bending and snapping at impossible angles. His scalp pulled backwards, the loose skin of his face revealing the bottom white of his eyes.
“He… help!”
It was all he managed to say, as he was pulled into the dark. Limbs were quietly ripped from his sockets, as his human frame was bent, twisted, torn, and mangled. Black water mixing with marrow as dark shapes turned Anders into what resembled an underwater cloud of flesh and cloth.
Whitney threw herself forward, slamming the door shut, leaving the bronze key on the floor.
Screams erupted, and I didn’t even notice they were mine. It was this primal force being pulled out of me, this need to scream. Like a baby desperate for her mother. Helen backed into a corner and sunk to the floor, with Seb trying his best to comfort her. Whitney just sat there looking at the bronze key; her face breaking out in cold sweats.
I felt something turn in my stomach and headed for the bathroom. Whitney ran after me, but she couldn’t make it in time. I burst through the bathroom door and collapsed on the floor, hyperventilating. Whitney stayed outside, looking at me in shock.
“It’s… you’re… you’re fine,” she said. “You’re okay.”
I wasn’t. But compared to Anders, panicking on the bathroom floor seemed like a mercy.
Whitney stayed with me as I calmed down. Seb and Helen joined us. After a few minutes of silence, Whitney excused herself. She came back with pile of notebooks. She sat down across the hall from me, making sure not to enter the bathroom.
“My dad, he… found something,” she said. “I wasn’t sure exactly what.”
“We should… we should leave,” said Helen. “We should leave right now.”
“We can climb out a window,” said Seb. “If the, uh… the door is…”
“Just… please,” sighed Whitney. “Just stay. We’ll figure it out.”
“I-I mean no offense,” said Helen. “But what… what on earth was that?”
Whitney turned the notebook to a specific page and read aloud.
“I’ve been marooned in this house for thirty days. I never know where the Door is. Sometimes I can hear water, sometimes not. I tried the windows, but it nearly burst my eardrums from the pressure as water came rushing in. I can’t leave. I can’t move. They wait behind the Door. They wait for me to open.”
Whitney scratched her head. Helen looked back and forth, as if waiting for something to make sense. Seb just shook his head.
“What… what does that even mean?” asked Helen. “What happened?”
“It has to do with the doors,” Whitney explained. “They wait behind the Door.”
“There’s nothing there,” said Seb. “There’s light coming through the windows.”
“It’s… it’s not that easy. It’s when you open it.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
Whitney stood up and handed Helen three notebooks.
“We can argue the details of dad’s quantum entanglement experiment later, but that’s not gonna help us.”
“So… let’s just go then,” said Seb. “Let’s leave.”
“You wanna take your chances on the front door? That it won’t come back? Go ahead.”
Seb took a few tentative steps up to the front door. Helen wanted to protest, but she just started looking back and forth. Whitney crossed her arms and turned away.
“I can’t hear anything,” said Seb. “Are you sure it’s there?”
“It’s somewhere,” said Whitney. “I don’t… I don’t know the rules. It has to do with the doors.”
I got up off the bathroom floor and looked at them. Seb took his hand off the front door and stepped back. Whitney turned her attention to me.
“You put yourself at risk,” said Whitney. “That could’ve killed you.”
“The bathroom?”
“The door to the bathroom. Any or all of these doors, it… it could be connected. Here, let me-“
Whitney walked up to Helen and took one of the notebooks back. She turned to one of the latter pages.
“The framework of passageway. Concept of thought. Paired in alignment, the darkness standing shy from the mirrored back of Empyrean. Realm unwilled and unbound, misshapen by collective subconscious. We cannot pass, our world-forgotten blocks dissipated. Like a bridge cannot be built of water, and a house cannot be built of wind. But the great craftsman blames not their tools; and eternal gold can be found in humble bronze.”
“Bronze,” I said. “Like the key.”
“Look, my dad, he… we weren’t on speaking terms. I’ve looked at all this for days, and all I can tell is that he was off his rocker. He died in that room.”
Whitney pointed to the study. Helen hugged Seb tight, holding back a sob.
“He couldn’t leave. He was convinced that the… the door would eat him.”
Helen sat down by the kitchen table. Thankfully, there was no door in-between the kitchen and the main lounge. Seb walked straight up to Whitney, grabbed her by the collar of her blouse, and slammed her up against the wall; his calm demeanor cracking at the seams.
“We shouldn’t be here,” he said. “This is your fault!”
“I-I didn’t know! It was all just ramblings! I didn’t have time to clear it all out, how… how could I have known?!”
“You recognized the key,” said Helen. “You chased after him. You asked him to wait.”
“That’s the only part that keeps coming back!” Whitney yelled. “Check the notebooks! The key, it’s… it’s everywhere! It’s everything!”
“So what do we do?” Seb asked. “Do we use it or destroy it?”
Whitney looked at the pile of notebooks she’d managed to gather from the study. It was only a handful of everything we’d seen in there, but it might be enough to get some semblance of an answer.
The house had six doors. The front door, the bathroom door, the study room door. On the top floor, there was another bathroom door, a door to the guest bedroom, and the main bedroom door. The bathroom door on the bottom floor was already open and considered safe. I could step in and out without a problem.
Whitney explained as best as she could.
Her father had grown increasingly paranoid since divorcing Whitney’s mother. He’d locked himself in his house, committing fully to his studies. He’d always been a bit agoraphobic, and having a reason not to leave the house was a bit of a blessing in disguise. But over time, that blessing turned into a curse. An early entry read;
“For years, I’ve longed for the presence of mind to devote myself. And now that I can, I find myself wanting. I can’t be certain. There is a Door, a passage. It binds itself seemingly spontaneously. There is a risk involved, and it is a risk I cannot take.”
Seb tried to call for help, but water started pouring out of his phone. Whitney found a page about “semi-passages” or “shortcuts”. Things that could be used as portals to another person or place. They weren’t as conceptually clean as a door, and thus wouldn’t invite “Them”, but the connection would go through that dark place. The place that, somehow, her father had stumbled upon.
I looked at the key for a long time. I didn’t dare to touch it. It was unassuming, in a way. It was old and had this sort of blocky texture; like it was made of little squares. While Helen and Seb rifled through notebooks, Whitney looked up and talked to me.
“He just wanted a way to go wherever he wanted, without having to traverse the space in-between. To just go from one door to another. All he needed was a key.”
“But why now? Why is… how are we trapped?” I asked. “We got in here just fine.”
“The realtor,” sighed Whitney. “He tried to leave with the key. I think that triggered it.”
“So how do we un-trigger it?”
Whitney shrugged and pointed to the notebooks.
We had endless discussions. We compared notes, drew out theories. Helen thought we could force the bronze key out a window, but Whitney theorized that it’d just leave us locked inside. I suggested we listened at each door, just to eliminate which ones were safe and which weren’t. We tried, but there was seemingly no way to tell. Sometimes I could hear rushing water on the other side. Scratches on the wood. Other times, nothing. Even going back to the same door, it’d sound differently each time.
We considered opening several doors at once. We spread ourselves out. I was at the upstairs bedroom door, right next to Seb by the guest room door. Whitney was downstairs by the study door, and Helen insisted on the front door. We all put our hands on the handles. I wasn’t sure if I could hear something on the other side or not; my heart was pounding too loudly.
There were six doors. Five were closed, one open. Someone was probably going to die.
“There is only ever one Door. He only speaks of it as a singular. It can change over time,” said Whitney. “This is our best shot.”
“We can’t know for sure,” said Seb. “And why do we even want to open them all? There’s nothing in the bedrooms, right?”
“We’re excluding,” I said. “Like we did with the downstairs bathroom.”
“We should close it,” said Helen. “Shouldn’t that improve our chances of… of our other doors being okay?”
“I have no idea,” sighed Whitney. “Are we doing this?”
Seb backed away from his door, taking the hand off the handle.
“It ain’t right,” he said. “None of it. It ain’t right.”
Everything erupted into an argument. Seb couldn’t bring himself to risk his life for anything less than an exit, and Helen couldn’t stop crying at the thought of that dark abyss. I couldn’t blame her. To this day, I can’t stop imagining it. Whitney, trying to act as a voice of reason, read aloud from one of the notebooks.
“The concept of the passageway, the Door, changes at the flick of a thought. An alien thought, like an invisible, uncontrollable shadow of the psyche. It refuses to be controlled. My exit could be my end; or as likely, a wooden frame. Much like we cannot control the smoke of a campfire, we cannot foresee the turning of the passageway.”
We all looked at one another. Helen collapsed by the front door, crying. Whitney was close to a mental breakdown. I felt this enormous burden settle in my stomach, like I was missing something.
“Let’s take the door off the hinges”, said Seb. “We’ll turn it into a… an arch. Then it ain’t a door anymore. You think that’ll work?”
“In theory, maybe,” said Whitney. “But how do we do that without opening it?”
“We’ll… we’ll take the whole frame off,” Seb said. “There’s a crowbar under the sink. Saw it when I checked the garbage disposal.”
Helen bent down next to the sink, put her hand on the kitchen cabinet handle. I gasped.
Was that considered a door? Could it kill her? Would it?
I imagined that dark, cold abyss. That enormous force pulling me in, turning my very form into this unrecognizable mass. Where no screams can be heard. All I’d have to show for such unimaginable anguish would be a burst of bubbles; then nothing.
“No!” I cried out. “Stop!”
But it was too late.
Nothing happened. Helen opened it, pulled out the crowbar, and that was that. But for a brief moment, I realized how Whitney’s father must’ve felt. That uncertainty, not knowing for sure if that one flick of the wrist would be damnation; or nothing.
Helen handed the crowbar to Seb, while Whitney gave me a pat on the shoulder. I couldn’t stop crying. My whole body was shaking from the sudden rush of adrenaline. Meanwhile, Seb walked up to the front door and started tapping the wood.
The theory was this; if there was no door, nothing could come through. There was no point in doing a test run, because if it didn’t work, someone would lose their life either way. It was better to have an honest chance of getting out.
Whitney gathered towels. She had this idea that, maybe, water might start leaking if the door was turned into a semi-passage, like a window. If so, we might have to find a way to quickly stop the flow.
By the time we got the towels, Seb started working on the door frame. As that first crack rang out, I heard a click.
The front door slid open.
Without a moment’s thought, Seb pushed it close. It had barely opened an inch.
We all held our breaths. We were fine. Nothing was happening.
“It’s… it’s clear!” Helen called out. “There’s nothing there! I saw it, it… it was nothing!”
“It can change!” Whitney yelled back. “We can’t take that risk again!”
“Like hell we can’t.”
Seb put his hand on the front door, but Whitney tackled him. The crowbar fell to the floor as Helen rushed forward to help.
“Listen!” Whitney yelled. “Just listen!”
A rumble, like a great whale passing in the distance. It was right there; on the other side of the front door.
Without a word, they all stood up and backed away. The door shook from the passing force. Something was definitely there.
“Then… then the rest should be fine,” said Seb. “We can get to the study.”
Whitney nodded, and the two of them burst into a sprint. Helen wasn’t convinced, but didn’t know what to say. Whitney dropped her crowbar, and as she bent to pick it up, Seb opened the door to the study.
Darkness.
“…no.”
Panic exploded. Helen grabbed his arms, trying to pull him out. Whitney crawled backwards, closing her eyes and covering her ears. I couldn’t watch. All I heard was Helen, screaming his name, over and over. There was a gargle. A scream turning into an inhuman screech, like a burning pig.
“Sebastian!” Helen kept repeating. “Sebastian! Sebastian!”
There was a click, and then nothing but crying. I looked up to see Helen collapsed against the study door. It had slid shut from the pressure on the other side.
“I’m… I’m coming, Sebby,” she cried. “I’m… I’m-“
She opened the door again.
And there was the study, just as we’d left it.
Helen collapsed on the floor, curling up into a fetal position. She kept making this child-like yowling, scratching the surface of the hardwood floor, as if trying to dig Seb back into reality. But there was nothing left. Not even water droplets on the floor.
Then there were her arms. She’d held on until the door had slammed shut. Her sleeves were torn, and her arms bloody. Not much, but there were these round little suction marks. They were already bruising, with spots of blood poking through the skin.
I sat by Helen as Whitney started rifling through the study. There were more notebooks, more theories, more diaries. Notes about experiments, clever tricks, and attempts. So far, every idea to understand the rules were in vain. We couldn’t make sure. No matter what, we could never be truly sure.
Two open doors. Four closed.
I don’t know how many hours passed. I managed to get Helen to the couch, but she was inconsolable. She could barely comprehend words anymore. She didn’t blink, and she could barely breathe. There were no coherent thoughts in her mind, just… darkness. This awful, soul-sinking darkness.
Whitney propped up the open doors with books and towels, to make sure they wouldn’t accidentally close. All the while, she kept trying to convince herself.
“We keep opening them one by one,” she said. “If we can get it to manifest in one single place, and keep that door open, we should be able to leave by another.”
The sun had started to set outside. For all intents and purposes, this still just looked like a house. The windows were clear, showing the greenery outside. Maybe it was all a lie. Maybe none of it was really happening.
But looking down at Helen, and her unblinking eyes, I knew it was the realest thing I’d ever experienced.
“We… there’s three of us,” I said. “Four doors. We can’t make it.”
“No, that’s perfect,” nodded Whitney. “That’s… we open all but the front door. It manifests. Then we can get out through the one safe remaining door.”
“Unless we all die. There’s nothing that says it can only be in one place.”
“It is implied,” said Whitney. “If you got a better plan, just tell me. But unless you want to starve to death, we gotta-“
“Starve?” I interrupted. “Is that what…”
I looked back at the study, where Whitney said her father had died. No words were necessary. She took a deep breath and nodded.
“He couldn’t bring himself to try,” she said. “So we have to ask ourselves what we want. A long but certain death, or a violent risk at life?”
The fridge, the freezer, and all the cupboards had been cleared out. Whitney found some raisins for us to share while we pondered what to do. Helen couldn’t eat. She stared blankly ahead, waiting for her mind to come wandering back.
It was dark outside. Whitney rolled the bronze key between her fingers.
“I wonder how he did it,” she sighed. “He never made any sense to me.”
“Maybe it doesn’t make sense,” I shrugged. “At least not to us.”
“Then what made him so special?”
“Well, he did have a lot of books,” I said, reaching into a pile we’d gathered from the study. “Just look at some of these.”
“Astrology of Abraham, Channels of Esoteric Geometry…”
“I like this one,” I said, holding up a little red book. “Diary of Emmett Rask.”
“Right. But it doesn’t beat the…”
Whitney pulled out another book from the pile, turning it over.
“… the thirteen faiths of the blameless mother.”
I shook my head, looking over at Helen. A handful of raisins slipped between her fingers. She didn’t even bother closing her hand.
Looking back at Whitney, I sighed.
“You’re right,” I said. “We have to try.”
So we did.
We lined ourselves up on the top floor. Helen on the far right, near the bathroom. I was on the far left, by the guest room. Whitney was in the middle, by the bedroom. Helen didn’t understand. She just mimicked us.
“We’re gonna open on three,” said Whitney. “And no matter what we see, just run. Run downstairs, and just… go. Get out.”
I nodded. Helen didn’t.
“One.”
I tightened my grip. I saw Helen follow my lead, giving me an exhausted look. She could barely keep her eyes open.
“Two.”
I started doubting which way to turn the doorknob. I’d turned a million doorknobs throughout my life, but that was the first time I’d really thought about which way to turn it. I imagined myself hearing water. Bubbles. Distant rumbles. I tried telling myself that it was all imagined. Fake. Tricks of the mind.
But in my heart of hearts, I knew it wasn’t.
“Three.”
We opened our doors.
All I saw was a well-made bed. A bag of toiletries; probably Whitney’s. I left the door open and turned around.
Helen was smiling as the darkness welcomed her.
“Come on!” Whitney screamed. “Leave her!”
The door to the bedroom was open. Clear. But I was standing just ten feet away from an endless abyss. Helen looked at it, as if searching for something. She touched the surface with an outstretched hand.
“Seb, honey,” she cried. “Sebby, please.”
A pulse shot through her. I could see the hair on her arm stand up. Her veins turning black.
“Oh, Sebby…”
In an instant, her flesh unraveled as it flayed itself from the inside out. Her scream stifled as something pulled her in, leaving splotches of blood behind from the outline of her feet. A pained moan escaped her; only to be turned to harmless bubbles in the pressurized void.
Whitney grabbed me by the neck and pulled me downstairs. We ran to the front door. We looked back a final time, just to make sure it was still manifested upstairs.
It was still there. We’d sacrificed Helen, but we’d make it out.
Whitney pulled the front door open – and stopped.
Darkness.
We’d been wrong.
Whitney turned to run as an impossibly long arm grabbed the flesh of her back; straight through her clothes. It pulled her back.
I crawled away, not being able to close my eyes.
“Help me!” she cried out. “For God’s sake fucking help me!”
I shook my head, not knowing what to do. I’ll never forget those desperate eyes. The betrayal. The pleading. She fought every inch of the way. She dug her nails into the hardwood floor. She kicked. She pulled. She screamed. But for every second she stayed, the more painful it was.
With a final snap, the fingers dug into her spine; folding her like a lawn chair.
A lifeless body, dragged across the floor. Unceremoniously pulled into the dark with a quiet squelch.
And the door, slightly damaged by Seb and his crowbar, slid shut.
I was all alone.
The door to the guest bedroom and the main bedroom remained open. There was the bathroom and study downstairs. Just two closed doors left; the bathroom and the front door. Both closed. Both… wrong.
There was no right answer.
I must’ve stayed there for days. I found some trail mix in Whitney’s bag. I had water. I could shower. I had a change of clothes. I scoured the notebooks over and over and over, trying to find the slightest hint on what to do. There had to be some way of knowing for sure. There had to be.
It wasn’t until I came across a final note that I realized it was over. It read;
“By will alone, we cannot make ourselves right. Right is right, independently of our actions and intentions. We cannot control that which never was, and we cannot be part of that which will never be. There could be no more perils for me to face, and yet, I cannot bring myself to leave. There is no certainty in the unknown, and I choose not to live by chance alone.”
I cried myself to sleep at night. I banged on the walls. I even tried opening a window, only to have my left eardrum blown out from the pressure drop. Got a nasty nosebleed as well.
I tried reading. I tried making up little worlds in my head. I imagined myself safe and sound.
But it was useless. In those final hours of desperate loneliness, I knew I couldn’t fool myself any longer.
I was going to die.
I found myself with my hand on the front door. I learned every crease of the wood. The temperature of the metal handle. I listened to it. Studied it. At times, it was quiet. At other times, it wasn’t. Sometimes I imagined it quiet, other times, I imagined voices coming from the other side.
Maybe I wasn’t imagining it.
Finally, I grasped the bronze key. Starving, exhausted, and mentally broken – I opened the front door.
Sunshine.
And there, on the fresh-cut lawn, was another realtor.
Just as confused as I was.
So, turns out I was only in there for about 16 hours total. And to this day, no one seems to remember neither Anders, Seb, Helen, or Whitney. According to every document I can find, the owner of the house had no children. The cars parked outside were unregistered. On paper, it seemed like the entire world had forgotten that these people were ever part of this plane of existence.
I don’t think anyone’s lying here. There was a sincere disbelief and confusion to every piece of my story. To onlookers, I seemed like a squatter that’d gone insane.
I’ve tried to find anything about this. They won’t let me go back to read the notes. The investment firm who owns the real estate company swept it all under a rug and tore the place down. I suspect they were the ones who made the bronze key mysteriously disappear from the evidence room.
I’ve tried to find copies of the books I found in there. Some of them have been seen in passing on strange message boards, and one just keeps making my computer turn off whenever I try to google it. Who the hell is Emmett Rask anyway?
If anyone knew these people, or have heard about this phenomenon, please… I need to know I’m sane. I need to know this isn’t all a dream. I need to know I won’t wake up with my hand on that front door, having imagined living a life back outside.
This has to be real. I am real. There is nothing on the other side of the door.
Go ahead, listen. There’s nothing there.
It can’t be.
Can it?

Hi everyone,
Everything works fine except when gaming - when gaming on my 7900XT my computer just resets out of the blue. Sometimes after 10 minutes, sometimes after 30.
When I check dmesg this is what I see:

[ 6.013224] ------------[ cut here ]------------ [ 6.013225] WARNING: CPU: 8 PID: 553 at drivers/gpu/drm/amd/amdgpu/../display/dc/dcn32/dcn32_resource_helpers.c:329 dcn32_determine_det_override+0x11e/0x370 [amdgpu] [ 6.013451] Modules linked in: amdgpu(+) drm_ttm_helper ttm video iommu_v2 drm_buddy crct10dif_pclmul crc32_pclmul crc32c_intel gpu_sched polyval_clmulni polyval_generic drm_display_helper nvme igb ghash_clmulni_intel ccp sha512_ssse3 cec nvme_core sp5100_tco dca i2c_algo_bit nvme_common wmi fuse i2c_dev [ 6.013459] CPU: 8 PID: 553 Comm: (udev-worker) Not tainted 6.3.5-201.fsync.fc37.x86_64 #1 [ 6.013461] Hardware name: To Be Filled By O.E.M. X370 Taichi/X370 Taichi, BIOS P7.30 10/27/2022 [ 6.013461] RIP: 0010:dcn32_determine_det_override+0x11e/0x370 [amdgpu] [ 6.013633] Code: 02 00 00 48 83 c4 50 5b 5d 41 5c 41 5d 41 5e 41 5f c3 cc cc cc cc 44 8b 4c 24 24 44 8b 54 24 28 45 85 c9 74 07 45 85 d2 74 02 <0f> 0b 45 39 d1 0f 8c 82 01 00 00 44 89 c8 c7 44 24 1c 01 00 00 00 [ 6.013634] RSP: 0018:ffffc01440d97318 EFLAGS: 00010206

Now I'm using an old X370 board from 2017 (with latest bios), is this the problem here? Will replacing the mobo fix this, or is it a driver issue? I'm not sure what to do, I can't find anything about it on google, this seems to be somewhat of a unique error. Anybody have any idea?

Where do I start? Hmm, my name is Trent and I have a cute doggo.
I'm hoping to find a friend, I know right, wild! No, but I am hoping to find someone I connect with, if it grows into anything else that's cool too. I know it's not easy to build friendships and what not but there's gotta be some cool people out there, I just know it!
I'm sort of an introvert, don't enjoy big crowds or shitty people, and most of the time I'm only really hangin out with my few close friends, oh and my doggo ofc.
I like to be caring, open, supportive the best I can and I'm pretty sure that I'm a good listener or at least I try my best to be and give advice when asked.
I am not the most creative but I enjoy trying out new things even if I kinda suck at it 😌, I like to explore new places, cook or bake new things when I can. I also like to play video games, watch anime, hang out with friends.
Just to give a little more insight about me here are some strengths and weaknesses.
Strengths: I'm a very honest person, I use a lot of communication so that I can understand people and their boundaries better, their wants, needs as a friend/partner. I am also a very silly person and I will never judge anyone for their beliefs, who they are, or what makes them happy. I'm sometimes sarcastic and annoying but in a good way haha I swear! I can also be a very affectionate person to the people I'm close to.
Weaknesses: I care maybe a little too much for people, always wanna make them happy and that can sometimes be at the expense of my own needs. I try my best to communicate but I'm not the best at articulating my words (hopefully you won't hate me for that🤞), and last but not least I'm not the best with my tone, I don't mean to come off harsh with things but I think sometimes things come out as a little mean, that's never the way I intend, so I'm sorry in advance. Other than that... I've lived in Canada my whole life, I enjoy audio books, not hard back, and I'm really up to watching or playing anything, as long as it's not Barbie Life in the Dream House hehe
Oh and if you're interested I play Ark, World of Warcraft, Runescape, Pokemon, pretty much any survival game. I like to watch Family Guy, American Dad, Futurama, Bob's Burgers, Lucifer, Star Trek, The Boys, Rick and Morty, Documentaries, Murder Mysteries and my favorite movie is Howl's Moving Castle. I know, I'm a bit of a Nerd. 🤫🥲
Anywho, feel free to shoot me a message if you'd like and maybe tell me a little about you?
At the very least, I hope you have or are having the best day.💙

Today I'd like to start with saying thank you to the Wireless Institute of Australia for awarding me the Brenda Edmonds Education Award "in recognition of outstanding service in the education of the Amateur Radio Community and advancement of licensees."
It's an unexpected honour and a thrill that leads me to a question about how we recognise the people around us.
Over the years I've been a member of around a dozen radio amateur clubs and associations. To my recollection, the only one who has ever said thanks, and in my case, more than once, is the Wireless Institute of Australia.
What of the other clubs? What about the clubs you're a member of, or the groups you meet-up, either for lunch or on the local repeater? What about when you go out on a field-day and set-up a barbecue?
I look around me and I see activity that goes back more than a century. It's fair to say that every member of the community benefits from that effort. Memes on social media notwithstanding, there is real labour and toil, love and heartbreak, success and failure all around you.
What process do you have in place to say thanks?
Now before you start handing out participation trophies to everyone who turns up, mind you, they did when others didn't, consider what saying thanks might look like in your community?
It could be a special QSL card, or a certificate sent in the mail that someone could hang on their wall. I'm not advocating for sending out monetary awards or trophies, or other such paraphernalia, I'm just asking you to consider who in your group is worthy of a thank you and what that might look like.
You should also think about what you're saying thank you about. Is it for output, for the number of laughs, the level of participation, how many new club members were signed up, how many contacts someone made, how much fund raising they achieved, how many radios they fixed or how many nets they hosted, or something else?
You can think about who in your community might serve as an example to strive for and name the award after them. It might be someone who is active right now, or it might be someone who has attained mythical status in the stories you tell each other around the campfire during an overnight activity.
No matter what you call it, what it's for, how often you award it, what you present and whom you present it to, consider that it's a formal way of saying thank you, from the group to the individual, from all of you to one person in particular.
Since starting F-troop, I've now hosted more than 600 weekly nets for new and returning amateurs, a feat which we recently celebrated with a morning breakfast on the local aptly named Wireless Hill, but I couldn't have done it without the local repeater group who maintains the repeater we use. I also couldn't have done it without the countless individuals who join in every week, or who quietly sit on the sidelines making sure that the various nodes scattered around the globe are up and running, or the people who did the catering and logistics for the event.
Looking back, for me that event represents a missed opportunity to say thank you, something which I intend to do something about in the near future.
So, ask yourself. When was the last time someone in your community received a thank-you for their contribution?
I'm Onno VK6FLAB
TL;DR This is the transcript of the weekly 'Foundations of Amateur Radio' podcast - for other episodes, see http://vk6flab.com/

Today I'd like to start with saying thank you to the Wireless Institute of Australia for awarding me the Brenda Edmonds Education Award "in recognition of outstanding service in the education of the Amateur Radio Community and advancement of licensees."
It's an unexpected honour and a thrill that leads me to a question about how we recognise the people around us.
Over the years I've been a member of around a dozen radio amateur clubs and associations. To my recollection, the only one who has ever said thanks, and in my case, more than once, is the Wireless Institute of Australia.
What of the other clubs? What about the clubs you're a member of, or the groups you meet-up, either for lunch or on the local repeater? What about when you go out on a field-day and set-up a barbecue?
I look around me and I see activity that goes back more than a century. It's fair to say that every member of the community benefits from that effort. Memes on social media notwithstanding, there is real labour and toil, love and heartbreak, success and failure all around you.
What process do you have in place to say thanks?
Now before you start handing out participation trophies to everyone who turns up, mind you, they did when others didn't, consider what saying thanks might look like in your community?
It could be a special QSL card, or a certificate sent in the mail that someone could hang on their wall. I'm not advocating for sending out monetary awards or trophies, or other such paraphernalia, I'm just asking you to consider who in your group is worthy of a thank you and what that might look like.
You should also think about what you're saying thank you about. Is it for output, for the number of laughs, the level of participation, how many new club members were signed up, how many contacts someone made, how much fund raising they achieved, how many radios they fixed or how many nets they hosted, or something else?
You can think about who in your community might serve as an example to strive for and name the award after them. It might be someone who is active right now, or it might be someone who has attained mythical status in the stories you tell each other around the campfire during an overnight activity.
No matter what you call it, what it's for, how often you award it, what you present and whom you present it to, consider that it's a formal way of saying thank you, from the group to the individual, from all of you to one person in particular.
Since starting F-troop, I've now hosted more than 600 weekly nets for new and returning amateurs, a feat which we recently celebrated with a morning breakfast on the local aptly named Wireless Hill, but I couldn't have done it without the local repeater group who maintains the repeater we use. I also couldn't have done it without the countless individuals who join in every week, or who quietly sit on the sidelines making sure that the various nodes scattered around the globe are up and running, or the people who did the catering and logistics for the event.
Looking back, for me that event represents a missed opportunity to say thank you, something which I intend to do something about in the near future.
So, ask yourself. When was the last time someone in your community received a thank-you for their contribution?
I'm Onno VK6FLAB
TL;DR This is the transcript of the weekly 'Foundations of Amateur Radio' podcast - for other episodes, see http://vk6flab.com/

I can't figure out what's causing this error I'm getting in my Python script. The goal is to upload an image to the Files section of my Shopify store, using the Shopify API, according to this method explained here in the docs: https://shopify.dev/docs/apps/online-store/media/products#step-1-upload-media-to-shopify
and also here: https://shopify.dev/docs/api/admin-graphql/2023-04/mutations/stagedUploadsCreate
I'm mostly trying to model this code, originally written in Javascript, since this guy seems to be the one person on the planet who's figured out how to make this work: https://gist.github.com/celsowhite/2e890966620bc781829b5be442bea159
Here is the error message I receive: "The request signature we calculated does not match the signature you provided. Check your Google secret key and signing method"
And here is the full code that produces it, with the section that fails having an ALL CAPS comment next to it:

import requests import os # Set up Shopify API credentials shopify_store = 'my-store-url.myshopify.com' access_token = 'my-access-token' # Read the image file image_path = r'C:\Users\my-full-filepath\API-TEST-1.jpg' # Replace with the actual path to your image file with open(image_path, 'rb') as file: image_data = file.read() # Create staged uploads staged_upload_url = f"https://{shopify_store}/admin/api/2023-04/graphql.json" staged_upload_query = ''' mutation generateStagedUploads { stagedUploadsCreate(input: [ { filename: "API-TEST-1.jpg", mimeType: "image/jpeg", resource: FILE } ]) { stagedTargets { url resourceUrl parameters { name value } } userErrors { field message } } } ''' response = requests.post( staged_upload_url, json={"query": staged_upload_query}, headers={"X-Shopify-Access-Token": access_token} ) data = response.json() staged_targets = data['data']['stagedUploadsCreate']['stagedTargets'] target = staged_targets[0] params = target['parameters'] url = target['url'] resource_url = target['resourceUrl'] # Post image data to the staged target form_data = { "file": image_data } headers = { param['name']: param['value'] for param in params } headers["Content-Type"] = "image/jpeg" # Set the Content-Type header to match the file type response = requests.post(url, data=form_data, headers=headers) print(response.text) # THIS IS THE RESPONSE WHERE THE CODE FAILS # Create the file in Shopify using the resource URL create_file_url = f"https://{shopify_store}/admin/api/2023-04/graphql.json" create_file_query = ''' mutation fileCreate($files: [FileCreateInput!]!) { fileCreate(files: $files) { files { alt } userErrors { field message } } } ''' create_file_variables = { "files": [ { "alt": "alt-tag", "contentType": "IMAGE", "originalSource": resource_url } ] } response = requests.post( create_file_url, json={"query": create_file_query, "variables": create_file_variables}, headers={"X-Shopify-Access-Token": access_token} ) data = response.json() files = data['data']['fileCreate']['files'] alt = files[0]['alt'] 

Thanks!