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STARMAN

Issue #8: Storm Force

Arc II: Fire Opal

Written by Fortanono
Edited by VoidKiller826
<< Previous | Next >> (coming February)
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Part 1: Jennifer Knight
”Now!” Ted barks through my earphone. I dash between the rooftops of a series of old brick buildings and look down. Courtney and Jack are shooting blasts of energy through the dense pale-green fog that fills the streets around us; Rick is looking around, clearly bored but unable to actually do anything. Darrell is above the arena, making sure everything goes smoothly, and Aunt Sandra is somewhere around here but I have no actual idea where. I jump down, twisting my dial to the “Bubble” mode as I land. Quickly, I summon a purple-black bubble around me, trapping just a bit of the Mist’s fog in it. I’ve successfully separated part of the Mist from the rest of him, but I’ll have to be quick about what comes next.
The small tendril of fog in my bubble seems to realize what’s happening as I dart as far as I can down the street. I see it bend and contract, diving into my throat. I start choking; it becomes harder and harder to breathe, but I just have to go a bit further out. Eventually, as I begin to get light-headed, I release the bubble and switch my dial to “Panic.” A burst of energy surrounds me, knocking the fog away from me and out of my mouth. I cough a bit before straightening myself and speaking into my microphone.
”He’s gonna try to reassemble himself,” I say. ”Darrell, it’s your move.”
”Right,” Darrell says. I can’t see him above the battlefield, but I immediately notice his presence as dozens of tiny blue-and-red drones drift down from the sky, each one with fans. They surround the Mist’s missing piece, keeping him in one place, still separate from the cloud that Jack, Rick, and Courtney are dealing with.
”Fantastic,” Ted radios in. ”Mist’s primary goal will always be to keep himself together. It’s a sort of side-effect to his powers. Keep him there, and the rest of him’ll follow eventually, no matter how hard he resists.”
It takes a few seconds, but the giant cloud of fog slowly starts drifting to meet up with the smaller one. Courtney and Jack rush over to the area with the fans, both concentrating fire on the one position where they’re merging. I turn my dial to “Energy Blast” and add my own energy to the mixture. Slowly but surely, the green fog begins to get thicker, and soon enough, the figure of the Mist begins to take hold.
“I was hoping you guys still thought I was in Gotham,” he mutters in a raspy voice. I stare at the face of the villain that Ted had been so worried about, remembering how we had prepared for this battle for over a month before he felt comfortable sending us out. He looks old, weak; in his eyes, I see a man who knows he’s been defeated, a man who may have once been a titan but whom old age has gotten to. I smile as Aunt Sandra decloaks and cuffs him with a pair of power-dampening handcuffs. Nearby, a police car pulled up and Clarence, one of the older O’Dare brothers, escorts him away.
“I will be back,” he hisses. “You should all know that.”
I know that it’s still possible for him to come back once again, that he had even come back when the world thought he was dead. There is a sincere promise in his words. But even so, seeing the frail figure of Opal City’s legendary villain once again defeated, I smile.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Rick, Darrell, Courtney, and I re-enter Ted’s workshop once again; Jack and Sandra split from us and went back to the Stargazer. As we descend the stairs, I could tell that Ted was over the moon.
“Wow,” he says to himself. “Just… wow. I’ll be entirely honest; I was certain we would have had to retreat at some point during that battle. I did not expect this to be one and done.”
“Well,” Rick chuckles, “I think the guy’s just a fucking pansy. No offense; I get why you couldn’t beat him or whatever, but like, the dude tries to make us go to Gotham so he didn’t have to deal with us. Again, no offense; I’m sure you were, like, a great hero in your time, of course.”
Ted laughs heartily. “None taken. I’m sure that as he’s gotten older, he’s had to rely more on cheap parlor tricks like the one in Gotham. I, for one, definitely knows how the aging process can take a toll on your abilities. I’m just… so happy that bastard is behind bars again.”
Courtney nods. “Here here.”
“Anyway,” Ted says, “I’d like to let you know that our little merry band of heroes is going to get a fifth member fairly soon.” His tone sours as he continues to speak. “My sister… she’s a vapid idiot, so you can understand that we haven’t talked in a long time, but her son started developing metahuman powers. And he started going out as a hero. She told me that she couldn’t stop him, so she wants him to at least have more support.”
“Ah, great,” Rick laughs. “Because I was just thinking that we didn’t have enough people who sucked at being heroes on this squad.”
“Rick,” Ted glares. “Please cool your behavior. I’ve seen what you’re able to do on the field and I must say: it’s pretty bad too.”
The door to the workshop slides open once again, and a new kid walks down the stairs. He’s got dark brown hair that’s just barely covering his eyes and is wearing a grey T-shirt and jeans. He waves to us as he walks down the stairs to meet with us.
“Hi,” he says. “Name’s Aaron. Aaron Munro. I’ll be working with you guys for a while.”
“He’s been helping people in his hometown of Liberty Hill as the great ‘Iron Munro’ for the past few months now,” Ted explains. “Unfortunately, Aaron, when you decided to do that, you perhaps made the worst mistake you could have made in this line of work. You made your identity public. Tell me, why’d you do that.”
Aaron sighed. “I… I just thought it was a small town, and I figured we all knew each other already, and… I guess I wanted to be recognized for my deeds or something.”
“I’m sure you’ll feel sufficiently recognized when your mother gets a bullet in her skull,” Ted says bluntly. “Let’s be clear: I hate the lady, but not that much. Come with me.” Ted beckons Aaron to the far corner of the workshop.
I stare blankly at what’s happening in front of me; Ted’s a hardass, but this is… a bit much even for him. Clearly, this was about more than just business. I had heard small things about Ted’s sister before but never met her or her family. Whatever happened to separate them had to have been a big deal.
Ted shows Aaron to a costume on a stand in the corner; it consists of a brown-and-grey bulletproof bodysuit with metal accents and a full face-mask made entirely of metal. “This,” Ted says, “is going to be the new you. I’m calling it: ‘Metalsmith.’”
“Th-thanks,” he says. He looks frustrated; I can tell that he’s not happy to be here, but he’s holding it all in. “I--I just have to say that… this really isn’t my style. I’m trying to go for a friendly hometown hero vibe, and having my whole face covered up… It just doesn’t seem right.”
Ted grimaces. “You did the hometown hero thing, and you failed. You showed your face to everyone. Metalsmith isn’t the friendliest guy around, but he’s safe and so is his family. If you wanna talk about alterations, feel free to tell me. But keep in mind that I have to work to preserve your safety first.”
Aaron nods. “Fine,” he says.
I look around the room; all of my teammates are either looking at the spectacle in front of them, or looking at their phones. Starved of anything else to look at, I turn to look at Rick’s phone. He’s responding to a text message from someone named Luisa; I think she’s a girl in his class or something. It doesn’t quite look like a message about normal things teenagers talk about, though.
hey, so I have a confession to make, the message begins. John and Maya and i, we knew about you being hourman and everything before we met you. we’re still your friends, we always were, but we also want to get your help with something we’re working on. a project that involves metahumans, basically. let us know if you’re interested.
I immediately turn away from the message on the phone. Clearly, this is something I’m not supposed to know about, but now that I do, I can’t stop thinking about it. Some other people want Rick to help them with… something related to his powers. It sounds really shady; should I tell Ted about this? It could be a conflict of interest, whatever it is. On the other hand, Ted doesn’t seem like the most level-headed person to deal with this. Who knows; maybe it’s for some sort of superhero stunt show or something really cool, and I’d be denying him access to that.
Whatever. It’s not my problem right now. It was never meant for me.
“Hey,” Aaron says. “You here? You listening?”
I look up; Aaron is standing right in front of me, his hand outstretched. “Sorry,” I say, shaking his hand. “My name’s Jennifer. It’s nice to meet you.”
-=-=-=-= 🌟 =-=-=-=-
Part 2: Sandra Knight
“Well, that could’ve gone a lot worse,” I say, currently on the back of Jack’s Star-Cycle. Jack apparently figured out that he could make his motorcycle fly if he used his Cosmic Rod, which is both hilarious and something that neither Ted nor David would ever begin to consider trying out. Which is why Jack is so great; he’s questioning everything, figuring out new ways of doing things, and making a motorcycle fly.
Feeling the wind rush against my face, I’m taken immediately back to my rebellious college days and my early stints as the Phantom Lady. It’s nice, almost nostalgic, but still different enough. We come to a descent in the back of the Stargazer, and Jack locks up his motorcycle.
Hope comes out the back door to greet us. “Glad you could make it,” she says. “Cutting it a little close, though, I gotta say. The meeting’s in less than 5 minutes.”
Oh, right. The meeting with our potential client. The Mist tends to give a lot of people tunnel-vision; I had completely forgotten about this.
“Sorry about that,” Jack chuckles. “You know how it is, going out, saving the day. Maybe someday, you should give it a--” He cuts himself off as I glare at him. His expression turns more serious. “I’m so sorry,” he finally says. “I forgot about what happened with you and the Mist.”
Hope sighs. “It’s fine,” she says. “We can deal with this another time. He’s behind bars yet again; he can’t hurt anyone else. That’s the best news anyone could hope for.”
We walk into the office; Jack takes a seat, ready for the meeting. “So, this new client. What’s the deal with them, again? Missing kid? Brother’s a supervillain?”
“She has some information on who might have been behind the prison break a few months ago,” I say.
“Okay, wow,” Jack responds. “That’s sort of a big deal.”
We hear the door swing open. A young woman with light brown skin and shoulder-length black hair walks in. She’s wearing a sleeveless white shirt and black winter coat; on her left hand is a tattoo of the Superman “S” sigil. “Look who’s here,” Jack smiles. “Glad you could make it.”
The woman sits down in front of Jack, putting her coat on the back of the chair. “Yeah, well, me too,” she sighs. “Listen, if you have any witness protection-type deals or whatever, can you hook me up with one of them? I’m honestly… I’m honestly terrified right now.”
I nod. “Well, there are a few options there. My cousin can easily create a fake ID and get you out of the city without anyone noticing. If you want to go through a more legitimate program, Hope here has contacts with the police who can get you into proper witness protection.”
“I’ll take the first one,” she says. She reaches out and shakes Jack’s hand. “Name’s Sarah. I’ve been working for Maxie Zayas for the last few months; I needed work, and he seemed really nice at first.”
Maxie Zayas. That’s going to be a tough one. A big-time club owner and crime boss, following in the footsteps of his father; I was personally involved in putting his old man behind bars. All of Opal City’s heroes know about him, but we’ve never been able to really do much about it. A few years ago, David flew into Maxie’s club and arrested him straight-up for drug trafficking. Not 12 hours later, he was out, cleared of all charges.
This isn’t going to be a battle we can fight with force.
I walk closer to the table where Sarah and Jack are seated. “And you believe that Zayas is responsible for the recent breakout?”
Sarah nods. “At some point, I began to hear whispers that he was planning some meteoric takeover of Opal City. He said he needed something to distract the local heroes in the meantime. And then, a few days before the big event happened, I saw him talking to that card guy who broke them all out.”
“Jeremy Tell,” Jack says.
“I… I couldn’t be a part of whatever he was doing,” Sarah says. “I grew up in Opal City. Believe it or not, I loved you guys.” She points to me. “I actually had a poster of you in my room. I thought Zayas was a harmless dude who just sat around. It wasn’t a big deal, whatever he was doing. The people he broke out… I remember seeing what they did on the news. I had to talk to you.”
“Glad you did,” Jack says. “Hey, that’s awesome that you had a poster of Phantom Lady. Wait, why aren’t we selling posters?” He turns to me. “Can we do that?”
I laugh. “Topic at hand,” I smile.
Mia leaves, and Hope walks up to us. “So… what’s the plan then? We can’t both take down Zayas and the people he released, right? Those are two huge undertakings.”
“That may be so,” I say. I pause for a second. “We may not need to. If we can get the All-Stars to handle the escaped convicts, we could divert all of our attention towards figuring out what Zayas is planning.”
“Okay,” Jack says, “but how are we going to take him down? David tried, and he failed miserably. The guy’s just super well-connected. We can’t just storm in there, can we.”
I smile. “Jack, sweetie. There are other ways to do this kind of work that don’t involve punching all your problems away.”
-=-=-=-= 🌟 =-=-=-=-
Interlude VIII: Hour of Espionage
”Positions, everyone,” Al Carlyle said through the microphone. ”We need to set the scene just right.”
Carlyle stared at the multitude of cameras around him. He watched as Luisa, Maya, and John made their way to the docks. Turning to another monitor, he watched as several stealth-agents readied their sniper rifles, hiding on rooftops, in windows. He pressed a button on the console in front of him; a series of machines around the docks whirred to life; to the outside observer, they looked like they were doing nothing, but Carlyle knew that they were the key to this mission.
“I have to say,” Luisa said apprehensively. “I’m really worried about this. These snipers… if he doesn’t show up, they will kill us, right?”
”11:49 PM,” Carlyle reiterated. ”Unfortunately, for this to work, the snipers have to be steadfastly committed to their mission. The dude doesn’t get visions about things that could happen. He gets them about things that will if he doesn’t intervene. But don’t worry; we’ve run several experiments with the energy emitters. Every time, he shows up right on cue.”
Luisa nodded. ”Okay. And what’s the deal with those machine things? You’ve explained them to me before, but I’m not good at remembering all the science stuff. Just isn’t my thing.”
”They emit a specific frequency of radiation that, for reasons unbeknownst to us, seem to massively increase the likelihood that Rick gets a vision in that area. We found residual traces of it naturally occurring in almost half of Rick’s usual visions; when we massively crank up the numbers, he always seems to show.”
The three kids sat down at the dock. After a few seconds, Carlyle spoke up. ”We’ve gotten confirmation that Rick has now left his house. The snipers can now evacuate the area. The three of you, just act normal. It’ll take the better part of the hour for him to get here, so get comfortable.” As soon as they had settled in, the masked snipers quickly ran off, lowering their weapons and quickly changing into civilian wear like clockwork.
John was the first to speak up after Carlyle went silent. “So, what, we’re gonna wait, like, 58 minutes until he gets there? Well, this will be boring.” He pulled out a couple of joints from his pocket. “Anyone want some?”
“We’re on duty,” Maya said. “I don’t think it’s worth it.”
John shrugged. “What? We have to sit around, pretend like we’re doing something, and then act all buddy-buddy with him when he shows up. It’s not like we’re taking down Basilisk; this is easy shit. It’ll be fine.”
Maya shook her head. “We should wait.”
John chuckled. “Alright, fine, you win. But we’re popping these babies out as soon as the man of the hour gets here. Got it?” He shoved the joints back into his pocket.
“Alright, whatever you want,” Maya smiled. “Just don’t come running to me when Carlyle yells at our asses for being high on the job.”
Carlyle watched the security footage, smiling and shaking his head to himself. Behind him, William Vickers walked up. He was the same age as the rest of them, but he had proven himself remarkably more mature than the others, quickly becoming the group’s de facto leader.
“Sorry to bother you at this time,” William said. “I gotta talk to you about another developing situation.” Carlyle hesitated, before standing up and dusting himself off. The two of them walked into the next room, where they began to talk.
“Basilisk activity’s been at an all-time high for the past few months,” William finally said. “Just recently, they’ve opened up 3 new cells in Germany, and are pulling in a remarkable number of recruits in Indonesia and Malaysia, to name a few. There’s also been a lot of restructuring; several smaller cells have been suddenly relocated to South America for some odd reason. If the ASA’s gonna be able to keep limiting their spread, we need more agents, and they need to be trained.”
Carlyle nodded. “Yes, yes,” he said. “I’ll remind you that you’re looking at only a small piece of the bigger picture. We are only a tiny fraction of what the ASA has to offer, and the adults are well aware of these issues. That said, you’re not wrong; we need all the help we can get. That’s what we’re working on right now.”
“Rick Tyler,” William affirmed. “He seems strong; he’d be a great start. But one metahuman won’t be enough. We need more metahuman soldiers, or at least, soldiers equipped with energy weapons and similar tech. The capes have been doing it for years; it works. But somehow, we can’t seem to find nearly enough people willing to serve. Maya’s the only metahuman on our squad right now, and her powers are still very much a wild card in combat scenarios.”
Carlyle nodded. “Yes,” he finally said. “Well, I don’t think that just recruiting a bunch of people is the right way to go. If we do that, we run the risk of potentially exposing ourselves to a large number of double-agents. But… if this lead pans out, there might be a way to enhance the prowess of the agents we already have.”
William perked up. “Yes? Do tell.”
“Presumably, Rick could gain access to the technology that Starman and his companions use to fight crime. Luisa could take a staff, you could take the blacklight…”
“I’m not the type of guy to stay in the shadows,” William said. “Have you seen my attempts at infiltration? Not my strong suit. Appreciate the offer, though.”
Carlyle nodded and smiled. “Well, whatever happens, this new member could help us more than we initially thought.”
-=-=-=-= 🌟 =-=-=-=-
Part 3: Jack Knight
I pull up to a street corner a few blocks away from what many Opal City residents affectionately refer to as the ‘Zayas Strip.’ Hope is sitting in the back seat, done up to look like a completely different person, and Sandra’s already run off to do some good old-fashioned sleuthing. The prosthetic nose I’m wearing feels so uncomfortable already; couldn’t we just have gone for the blond hair dye and nothing else?
Sandra materializes on the hood of her green convertible, startling the bejeezus out of me. “Password for the night is ‘Prometheus,’” she mutters.
“Alright, alright,” I say. “Hey, I know it’s technically your car and all, but maybe don’t jump on the hood, okay? That was probably the biggest scare I’ll have all night unless Grant decides that the Olympia is his new favorite haunt.”
Sandra ignores me. “You two head into the bar; I’ve given you fake IDs for the absolute worst-case scenarios, but you shouldn’t need to wave them around. I’ll never be too far behind, but as usual, you won’t see me. Got it?”
“Clear as ever,” I smirk.
“So,” Hope says from the back seat, “you ready to raise some hell?” Her usually-red hair is now jet-black, and she’s wearing these bright blue contact lenses that accentuate her eyes. If I didn’t know who she was, I would never have recognized her in the first place. Let’s just hope my disguise is just as good.
Sandra vanishes and we walk a few blocks further down Harris Street. As we walk down the street, the quiet townhouses are quickly replaced with a completely different atmosphere of bustling nightlife and flashing neon lights. On both sides of the street are a series of Zayas-owned businesses: strip clubs, brothels, bars, casinos, even a fight club at the far end of the street. It’s almost disorienting; look, I’m not the nicest guy in the world, never pretend to be, but I promise I’ve never been in a place like this. Not quite like this, at least.
Nestled in the middle of the brilliant signs and faint bouncing of club music is a single building not illuminated by lights. The top floor is taken up by some sort of high-end brothel with a sign reading ‘The Elysian Fields’ on it. The stairs that lead down to the bottom floor are guarded by a dude who seems absolutely ripped--like, probably-a-meta ripped--and a sign at the front reads “Olympia Nightclub.” Zayas’ personal shining gem, for those who were affluent enough to get an invitation.
I walk up to the bouncer and am immediately taken aback as I realize who exactly it is. Tony Woodward, aka Girder. Former Flash villain who got in a few fights with David before being broken out. As I get closer, it becomes clear that this dude’s entire body is made of rusted metal. He speaks up in a deep voice as we approach. “What’s the code?”
“Prometheus,” I say.
Girder bows his enormous metal head and steps to the left. “Enjoy.”
As we walk in, the last trace of the booty-bounce music that I could hear vanishes as it’s replaced by a classical violin tune from a distant speaker in the corner. The walls are blue plaster; segmenting the walls are a series of white column-like decals meant to invoke ancient Greek architecture. The bar in the center of the room is also surrounded by similar white columns. On the far end of the club is a wooden stage, currently unoccupied, and a few poker tables. Still not nearly half as good as my restaurant’s interior design.
The bartender walks up to us as we take a seat. His head is completely shaved; from what I can tell from the rest of his body, he appears covered in tattoos of vines and flowers. “Don’t think I’ve seen you lovely pair before around here,” he says.
“No, you wouldn’t have,” I smile. “We’re new in town. Heard about this place from an old military buddy of mind, and as it turns out, we got just enough money to spend on a nice place like this.” I reach out my hand and he shakes it. “David Vosberg. This is my girl, Rita.”
Hope offers her hand as well. The bartender shakes it. She turns down towards the cocktail menu, looking over the options. Her face shifts a bit as she reads over the various options; each one seems to be based on various tragic events that Opal City has suffered through. Down the list, I see the ‘Swift Hydro Plant’ as their fancy new drink, the ‘Prison Break,’ the ‘Doll Killer’--complete with a miniature doll in Martha Williams’ likeness--a drink simply labeled ‘The Mist,’ and, the final drink on the specialty list, the ‘Fallen Hero.’ The description listed it as ‘a tribute to the asshole who tried to bust us finally kicking the bucket. May aliens continue to do what we never can.’
My stomach drops. Fuck, while we go out and bust our balls to make this city a better place, the people in this club turn around and laugh at our failures. Laugh when one of us dies. I feel my blood boiling. I need to stay in character. I can’t blow this for all of us. Gritting my teeth, I take a few deep breaths before sucking it up.
“What’s the matter?” the bartender asks. “Can’t take a couple of dark jokes? Lighten up, man.” He gives me a pat on the back like I would ever be okay with that.
“Sorry,” I say. “It’s just… Well, let’s just say I lost someone personal in the hydro plant attack. One of, uh, those flying shadow things cut my brother open. I’ll take… I’ll take a Fallen Hero, I guess.” At this point, I’m flying by the seat of my pants. I’m definitely excited to get that drink.
“And I’ll take a Mist,” Hope says.
“Damn,” the bartender says. “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t realize that you could… I’m sorry to hear about your brother.”
“It’s fine,” I say. “You couldn’t have known.”
The bartender serves our drinks and we quietly sip at them. Aside from a few regulars, nothing much seems to really be happening.
I feel a slight breeze on the back of my neck. I turn around; nestled in my suit is a small piece of paper. The writing on it reads, ”Can’t find Zayas, but did find something else big. Meet me outside? -Sandra”.
“Hey, uh, Rita?” I clear my throat and put my arm around her, subtly passing the note over to her. “This place is getting really stuffy; I think we need to step out for a second. Whaddya think?”
Hope shrugs. “Oh, alright,” she says, covertly reading the note. “But we’re coming back; this place is just fabulous, don’t you think?”
“Definitely,” I say. We walk outside, brushing past Girder’s cold metal form as we do. Sandra’s waiting on the corner of the street, fully visible.
Sandra turns to us as we approach, and her voice turns to a whisper. “So,” she says, turning to Hope. “Before I bring this up, I figure it’s worth asking. How much do you know about what your brothers work on in the Force?”
Hope takes a deep breath. “Well, you know what’s going on with Mason, Clarence is in the same precinct as me, Barry just got a promotion to Major Crimes, and Matt works… well, I think he works around here, actually.” Her face turns bright red. “What’s going on?”
“I managed to get into one of the back rooms,” Sandra says. “And… well, Zayas is there, and he’s talking to a bunch of associates. One of them was Tell. And I think one of them may have been Matt.”
Hope nods. “Okay,” she finally says. “I… I guess I’m not surprised. He’s always been really secretive about what he’s doing, he’s denied promotions before… but I didn’t really think about it before.”
Sandra sighs. “I know this can be hard to hear, but I, unfortunately, have to ask you for one more favor. We’re here to watch Zayas over an extended period of time, figure out what he’s planning. For that reason, you can’t tell your brothers about our suspicions.”
Hope nods. “Got it,” she says hurriedly. “My… my lips are sealed.” As she speaks, I can tell she’s not fully convinced.
We walk back to the car. This was a short mission, but if this goes right, it will be one of many. And once we’re done, I’m almost certain, we’ll be able to take Maxie Zayas down.
-=-=-=-= 🌟 =-=-=-=-
Part 4: Rick Tyler
“Okay,” I snarl as I pass Luisa in the hallways of my school. She’s currently putting her bag into her locker. “I need to know what the fuck is going on, and I want you to tell me everything. What do you want from me?”
“Rick, calm down,” Luisa says. “Look, there are reasons why we had to do what we did, why we couldn’t just tell you everything as soon as we met you. We’ll explain everything soon enough.”
I shake my head. “Again with the secrets. Just fucking tell me what I need to know, alright? You guys pretend to be my friends, stage some sort of chance meeting with me--I got no idea how you did that. You pay some guys to shoot your heads off if I didn’t show up?”
“More or less,” she whispers. “Look, keep your voice down, okay? What we’re involved with isn’t something we can talk about in public.”
Oh, for Jesus fucking Christ’s sake.
Luisa bows her head. “Meet me out front of the Valor Building, this Saturday at 3 PM. All three of us will be there. Once you get there, there’ll be no more secrets. You’ll get to know everything. Promise.”
I sigh and throw my hands up. “Okay, fine,” I whisper. “I’ll be there.”
As I make my way to class, I shake my head. Fuck this. Clearly, they don’t trust me any more than anyone else seems to. But still, for some reason, I still want to meet with them. Just to figure out what’s going on. And then I’ll be done with them.
I nod my head. That seems fine. Find everything out, then leave. I can handle that.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
The Valor Building is one of Opal City’s oldest brownstone skyscrapers; it’s not even close to the tallest anymore, but it’s right in the middle of the city center, and it’s one of the most iconic buildings here. To those who actually give a fuck about Opal City, I guess. I remember that when Dad and Mom were still together, we ended up going for a weekend trip to Opal City. Dee and I were taken aback by the Valor Building and all of the dazzling skyscrapers in the city center; it felt so much nicer than Baltimore did. Then I moved here and discovered that like every other city, it’s full of shit. Tourists just like to hide the shitty parts from view.
I walk up to the front steps of the building. John is leaning against one of the pillars near the entrance, and Luisa and Maya are waiting for me up front.
“Yo, glad you could make it,” John smiles. “We were placing bets as to whether you’d actually show up. Seems like Luisa here owes me ten dollars.”
“Trust me,” Luisa laughs. “If you’d have been there, you’d have agreed with me. He didn’t seem like he was in the mood to keep putting up with our bullshit.” She turns to me. “Regardless, glad you could come. Sorry to put you through all of this.”
“Sorry,” I say, shrugging. “I can let my nerves get the best of me at times. I’m feeling better now, don’t worry.”
“So,” Maya says. “Are we ready to go?”
Luisa nods. Maya turns to the keypad next to her and types in a code. 7, 8, 4, 4, pound sign. The door clicks open. Immediately, as I walk into the lobby, I feel like I’m in a place I’m not supposed to be. The floor is made up of elaborately-patterned stone tiles; large windows to the sides let in a lot of sunlight as I walk to the elevators.
“So, uh, what do you do here?” I ask. “This is just, like, an office building, right?”
“Just, like, 10 seconds left,” Luisa says. “Then you’ll get to know all our secrets.” She calls the elevator, and we walk in. I push my way to the back as John and Maya get on.
“Alright,” John says. “I think it goes without saying that what we show you here today, you can’t mention to another living soul that we don’t approve of. Not even your hero pals. Got it?”
“Yeah, of course,” I say nonchalantly.
“Okay.” John reaches up above the panel of buttons on the elevator and opens up a small compartment. Inside is a fingerprint scanner; John jams his thumb onto the pad and the elevator begins to go down. After a few more seconds, the doors open. We’re in a pristine grey room; computers line every wall, and dozens of people look up as we walk in. Immediately, it reminds me of Ted’s workshop, but on a much bigger scale.
A man is waiting for us in the middle of one of the hallways. He’s wearing a neatly-ironed grey-green suit, with combed-over white hair. He reaches out his hand for me to shake.
“Al Carlyle,” he says. “Director of the American Security Agency. Nice to meet you, Rick. I’ve heard so many great things about you.” I turn around. All three of my so-called “friends” have deserted me, leaving me with this weird dude.
“Uh, nice to meet you too,” I mutter, shaking his hand. “So what exactly is going on here?”
“Well,” Al smiles, “what isn’t going on here? I suppose you’re a bit confused, a bit overwhelmed, so I’ll try and give you the long and short of it. We’re like the CIA, sort of. But a bit more secret. We’re the CIA when the CIA can’t be involved. Take, for example, metahuman agents. Do you know much about the Freedom Fighters?”
I shrug. “Heard of them. The original Starman was working with one of them, I think.”
Al nods. “Come,” he says. “Walk with me.” I sigh and follow him through the convoluted halls and terminals of this absolutely massive underground base.
“Now,” he says, “the Freedom Fighters were a truly amazing group of people. They were a UN task force composed of one sergeant, a handful of regular soldiers, and three metahumans. Well, they fought long and hard for the values that we hold dear to us today, but in the end, the UN saw them as a threat. What’s to stop our enemies from conscripting metahumans too? It’d be another cold war, one that many countries were all-too-eager to stop. So, metahumans were banned from serving in combat.”
He clears his throat and lets out a hearty chuckle. “Well, you see, terrorists don’t tend to follow by our rules. I suppose that’s what makes them terrorists, don’t you think? So that’s where we come in. One of many examples, I suppose, of where we come in. We use many of the techniques superheroes use to fight against potential threats to the land of the free and the brave. And I’ve had my eye on you for a while. I think you’d make a great addition to our cause.”
I pause and look around me. This place is huge. It’s bound to take up more than a few city blocks. When I intercepted the battle Jack was having with Swift, this base was underneath it all, computers typing away. Our school is only a few blocks west of here; it’s very possible the base extends that far too. I haven’t even been in Opal City for a year yet, but I had felt like I knew everything about it. Clearly, I was wrong.
I’ve never been the type of person who hated the government and everything they did. I followed the news, though, and they’ve clearly done some questionable things in the past few years. With Cale as President, that’s just going to get worse and worse. Do I want to be a part of this? Clearly, I don’t think I do. I was just here to get answers, and I got mine. That’s as far as this goes.
‘Take your time,” Al laughs. “We’d love to have ya, but no pressure either way.”
Before I can tell him no, my vision flashes white. A man walking down a run-down section of Snejbjerg Street. Nearly bald buzz-cut, blue eyes, wearing a grey hoodie. A car pulls up to him, firing three rounds in his chest. The blood splatters over the sidewalk. I snap back to reality.
“I have to go,” I say, my voice strained. “How do I get out of--”
Al gives me a knowing smile. “What’s going to happen, and where will it be?”
I sigh. “Some dude in a grey hoodie is gonna get shot on Snejbjerg Street. Drive-by shooting. It was a black sedan, I think. Just let me go, okay?”
Al turns on a radio on his jacket. “I want a dozen soldiers placed across Snejbjerg Street within the hour. Look out for black sedans, check each one for weapons. And get Rick Tyler here a tall glass of water.”
Immediately, the people around me start getting up and gearing into action. A young woman who was manning a computer earlier walks up to me and offers me a glass of water. I drink from it.
“Thanks,” I finally say.
Al hands me a burner phone from his pocket. “If you ever get any visions at an inconvenient time, text me from this phone. We’ll have it handled, and you can focus on the things in life that matter.”
I smile. “Wow, thanks.”
Al nods. “Look, Rick, I know that everything must be really disorienting for you right now, but trust me when I say that we’re here for you. From what I’ve heard from my agents that have been interacting with you, that doesn’t seem to be the case with the other team you’re on right now. They see you as a loose cannon. Maybe they’re right, who knows. But here, we need loose cannons. You can beat up as many terrorists as you want here--or don’t, whatever floats your boat. But you’re welcome here as you are, no matter who that is.”
I pause, looking around for a second. He’s right; in the few seconds I’ve met him, Al has made me feel at home more than I’ve ever been with the All-Stars.
I reach out and shake Al’s hand. “I’m in.”
“Fantastic,” he smiles. “Well, let’s meet the team then.” He brings me to a room with a circular table. Around the table are John, Luisa, Maya, and another kid I don’t remember. White kid with neatly-trimmed brown hair.
“Well,” Al says, “this is one of our finest covert ops units. We’re calling them the ‘Force of July.’ Right now, they’re mostly doing international missions, but we’re planning on bringing them into the spotlight as superheroes to handle domestic matters in the near future.”
He gestures to John. “You’ve already met John Trujillo, Jr., alias: ‘The Black Condor.’ His dad was one of our finest officers before sadly meeting his fate protecting our country. He piloted a one-of-a-kind wingsuit that his son now uses.”
“Besides that,” Al continues, “the Campoverde sisters have been fantastic assets. Luisa first came to us because she needed help with her sister’s metahuman powers. That’s right: she found us. Always a good metric for future success. Turns out, her sister has a bit of a way with plants, and it was a bit out of her control. Now, the two of them serve us as Lady Liberty and Mayflower.”
The last kid, the one I haven’t met, reaches over to shake my hand. “William Vickers,” he says. “Also known as Major Victory. My teammates have been telling me a lot about you. It’s good to finally get to meet you in the flesh.”
“The feeling’s mutual,” I say. And somehow, surprisingly, I mean it.”
Al nods and smiles. “Now that we’ve gotten to know each other, Rick, I have a special mission briefing for you and only you. I can tell that this will be the beginning of a long and fruitful partnership.”

High all! I really recently fell in love with the Fallout Universe, with all its complexities and unique stories. In particular, I very much enjoy the subjectivity of interpretations of the games and their outcomes, and I wanted to create my own personal contribution by writing a story specifically set after the Second Battle of Hoover Dam. The Courier is referenced once in passing and there's no mention of a next of kin for the Courier. The story is completely original with entirely unique characters that I've made and it takes place after a non-specific timeline in which Mr House wins the fight for the Mojave Desert. I wanted to share some of my work with my fellow Fallout fans and see what you think. I sincerely hope you enjoy it.
Beginning:
After the guns fell silent during the Second Battle of Hoover Dam, the world was forever changed. Mr House’s City State of New Vegas gained full sovereignty and control over the Mojave Desert, and his Securitron Army pushed the exhausted NCR and broken Legion out. In the following years, Mr House rapidly expanded the city of New Vegas, and reignited the production of old Pre-War Technology automobiles, bus lines, and a high speed train line appeared. The Strip itself expanded beyond the Three Families; Strip clubs, pubs, casinos, all you can eat buffets filling the area, with some residential apartments and houses now beginning to be sold to the highest bidder, just as it was in the old world.
The expanded city of Vegas outside the Strip itself however is a slum, crime, inequality, and denigration is all but abundant, and unrest is growing. Following the removal of President Kimball, his Vice President Donald Watson took over and inherited a State in crisis. Faith in the government had rapidly deteriorated, and the economy of the NCR began to suffer as many relocated to the Strip to live a life of luxury and excess. The NCR is now a shadow of its former self, with Military Police now required to keep order on the streets of its towns and cities. The poverty level is rising. In the East, Caesar’s Legion too is changing, and not for the better. With the Western Campaign a failure by all accounts, resources dwindling, questions about the strength of their Leader Caesar are cropping up in the minds of those closest to him.
By 2295, the pieces had fallen into place. The fate of these States and the people who uphold them is uncertain. One thing is for sure. Whatever happens, the Wasteland will be changed unlike it has ever been before.
‘I appreciate your respectful and restrained response to my contact. It is a pleasure to interact with the less agitated members of your State.’
Aminta barely heard Mr House, and instead stared out the windows of the Lucky 38. The skyline of the Strip extended seemingly forever, pushing away the surrounding darkness with neon light. Just beyond the city outskirts, the silhouette of Mr House’s newly created Launch Pad. It was one of five, and she could just see the other four, each slightly further away from the city than the last. She scrutinised them, and was struck by the boundless possibilities of such technology; the opportunities provided. How exciting it would be! Mr House’s voice then cracked her thoughts and brought back to the present. She listened, without comment.
‘Roughly 18 hours ago, a team of five extraordinarily skilled individuals ascended Hoover Dam from the base of the structure,’ The ostentatiously large screen in which Mr House’s face sat suddenly changed to show grainy footage. ‘This was captured by one of our cameras on the perimeter of the dam. I apologise for the bad quality, it has been surprisingly difficult obtaining improved camera lenses, and As you can see, they used some kind of Grapnel Launcher and ascended via the rope.’
On the screen, it was possible to just make out five distinct figures at the base of the dam. They were clearly dressed in dark clothing, though the quality was too poor and the camera was too far away to make out any of the fine details of the material. Aminta scrutinised the footage, watching intently as the five figures used an oblong object, reminiscent of a hunting rifle to fire a rope, or cord up the side of the dam; high enough to catch the top. The operator of the device then disconnected it from the gun, and pressed it into the ground. It appeared to stick. They then ascended the rope. The camera feed then cut to show three of the attackers subdue and restrain two security guards. Due to the light, it was clear that the clothing the criminals were wearing was Recon Armor, though there were no insignia or identifiable characteristics. The two men were then held down by two and clubbed across the face by the third member with the butt of a 10mm pistol. He then turned to the computer and retrieved something from his pocket. Then the screen went black.
‘At this point, at roughly 1:27 am a Trojan was fitted onto the system. It temporarily disabled all the security cameras in the sector. It was one of the strongest Trojans I’ve ever come across, but I was able to get the system back up and running within 15 minutes. Unfortunately we cannot recover any footage from the corrupted data files that detail how the robbers escaped. I hope you can understand why I decided to contact you.’
Aminta pondered to herself. Why would Mr House, a man who controlled Rockets and owned and governed an entire city and it’s enterprises, would need to contact the New California Republic for assistance in a robbery? From where they were standing, he appeared to be in a position any high ranking NCR official would kill for. She didn’t say anything. There had to be more to this meeting than what Mr House was implying. She looked to her left, trying to be casual. Sitting next to her with an overexaggerated grave look on his face was Political Officer Neville Dawson, and next to him was Dennis Crocker, former Ambassador to the Strip. They too were quiet, their faces frustratingly hiding what they were thinking. Not sure where to look, Aminta turned back to the screen Mr House’s caricature face was on. She had to say something.
‘Mr House, why exactly do you think these people targeted Hoover Dam? There are many casinos and places full of money on the New Vegas Strip. Is there anything of massive value at Hoover Dam?’
‘Well Chief Aminta Marr, no, ostensibly speaking, there is nothing there of real value to anyone, unless they have the ability to take and control the Dam and source it’s hydraulic generated electricity,’
‘Then why would someone do this?’ Aminta said curtly. She tensed up, not meaning to sound dismissive.
‘Well Aminta, they did take one thing from what we've deduced,’ Mr House said, appearing to ignore her tone.
‘And what was that Mr House?’ Neville cut in. He was leaning forward, hands clasped tightly together. He was trying - and failing - to ease the tension in the room.
‘Well, before I contacted you Neville, and to answer your question Aminta, I ran through my storage records from 2285 to the present. I had Mr Harvey Shwarze, my ‘Representative in Government’ review them in paper form in our archives. Three things - completely inconsequential things mind you, were missing. Three Platinum Chips.’
‘Three Platinum Chips?’ Neville said concertedly, as if he knew exactly what Mr House was talking about.
‘That’s right. It’s a data storage device, well it was a data storage device. Designed by me before the Great War of 2077. Perhaps once upon a time this would’ve been valuable to somebody, but after the Second Battle of Hoover Dam I had access to all kinds of ruined facilities all over the Mojave to reform to working order. I began reprinting hundreds of Platinum Chips which were variations of the original Platinum Chip. They continuously upgrade and encrypt my software to prevent any outside programmers from accessing my highly sensitive data. I have no idea what a group of hooligans would want with three. I can easily replace them, and since they’re only usable on my systems, well they would simply be useless.’
‘Perhaps they wanted to sell them,’ Aminta proposed. It wasn’t impossible, she thought. People pay top dollar for things with perceived value, isn’t that the cardinal rule of the Strip?
‘To whom?’ Mr House replied. ‘The point still stands. Nobody has any use for them but me.’
‘Well, perhaps they thought they were valuable.’ Dennis remarked.
‘In any case, they will soon learn they are not valuable.’
‘If you have no problems with this Mr House,’ Aminta cut in. ‘Why do you need us here? The NCR has its own problems, big problems, and from where we’re standing, you seem to have everything under control.’
‘That’s precisely the issue!’ Mr House exclaimed. ‘The very fact they managed to steal anything from me at all is deeply disconcerting! I spent days and nights running statistical simulations for all possible scenarios in and formulated the best plans for countering every scenario I came across!’
‘I guess my point is, I do not understand, in any capacity, why you, YOU of all people would need to call us for assistance in a matter that you - whether intentional or not - have spent the last fives minutes telling us it isn’t an issue.’
The room fell quiet. Aminta pulled her hands back from the table and into her lap, and looked down at them, pretending to be occupied analysing them. She had exposed the true, unspoken meaning of this meeting, and they all knew it. She bit her lip. Dennis wiped the sweat off his face. Neville breathed in deeply, as though he was going to speak. But Mr House did first.
‘As I understand it, the NCR has fallen on hard times since the Second Battle of Hoover Dam. My Lieutenant after the battle was admittedly curt in regards to handling our relations, and since then it seems your economy is really struggling with extremely poor unemployment and satisfaction levels,’ Mr House paused.
Neville looked at Aminta with a look of understanding, and regret but he didn’t say anything. Mr House was right. Of course he was right.
‘It just so happens that while it may look from the outset I’m doing well, with the occasional launch of one of my experimental rockets, crime in Greater New Vegas is extraordinarily high. To be clear, the Strip is not, but the extended city state with the newly constructed buildings - those areas are. I want to make a proposition for the mutual benefit of the NCR, and New Vegas. Neville, think carefully about what I’m about to say.’
Neville spoke up. ‘Alright, I’m all ears.’
‘Dennis Crocker here can once again become the Ambassador to the Strip, and the NCR can once again have an Embassy. I will also give the NCR access to some of my technologies to help your state re-stabilize after everything that’s happened. In return however, I would like Aminta here, who is your Chief and Commander of both your military and normal police forces, to assist my Securitrons in patrolling Outer Vegas. Securitrons don’t make the best police, and security guards are in short supply and are not equipped, in any sense, to be police. I also would like your help in tracking down the culprits of this robbery; that being an extension of the aforementioned policing stipulation. Such a breach of security cannot happen again. Neville Dawson, I’m willing to sign a treaty pertaining to these terms, or any terms the NCR may propose, unless of course it does mutually benefit both states.’
Aminta felt her twang strike her deep in her heart. For years, the NCR Police Force had been absorbed into the Military Police Unit, and they could barely contain black market dealings of Chems and military grade weaponry on the streets of NCR’s cities. They did not have the resources or power Mr House seemed to think they did. For nearly 3 years straight she had been bombarded with evidence of killings by her own subordinates, illegal incarcerations, and illicit behavior between colleagues within her own chain of command, with no power to rehabilitate or prosecute those involved. Meanwhile, those that had the money to escape fled to New Vegas, desperate to find a life of comfort. It was possible that through re-establishing trade and mutual respect with Mr House, they could rebuild the NCR’s respectability on the international and internal level. She found herself hoping the treaty would be signed.
‘This... is a huge proposition. I hope you can understand the overwhelming nature of what you’re telling us, it’ll take a bit for us to come to a conclusion.’ Neville exhaled, as though he had been holding it for the last minute.
‘I understand.’ Mr House responded.
‘Maybe I ask,’ Donnie piped up. ‘What specific kinds of technology will you provide to the NCR?’
Mr House ran down a checklist. ‘Vehicles. Remade pre-war cars. Excavation machines. Cement mixers. Would provide jobs and improve your infrastructure in the process, whilst also giving me business and improving the situation here. Mutually beneficial for both sides.’
‘I see.’
Aminta struggled to contain her happiness. She had become a police officer to enforce safety and protect those who abide by the law. This was a way back to such operations, in which she could help those in need, rather than sit idly while their situation worsened.
‘I’ll also be willing to give 10% of the electricity produced by Hoover Dam to the NCR. It produces more than I need.’ Mr House offered.
Dennis shifted his weight, and opened his mouth. It was a second before anything came out.
‘15% would be great, if possible.’
‘Done.’ Mr House concluded.
‘Well, we’ll definitely have to confer this back to President Watson. As previously said by Mr Dawson, this is a huge offer.’
‘I understand. Aminta, I can only hope you also support this.’
Aminta smiled. ‘I am willing to establish a NCR Police Force here in New Vegas, and assist in establishing prosperity and stability, for the benefit of both states.’
‘Excellent. I’ll arrange for a Taxi to take you back to the border.’
*****
Nobody said a word in the ride in the elevator down to the entrance of the Lucky 38. There was a perpetual sense of being watched, and listened to, and Aminta supposed they probably were. She sensed from the stiffness of Donnie and Neville’s postures they felt the same way. As the three left through the ground level of the building, the desolate casino indicated a time long past, preserved in pristine condition yet uncannily lifeless; inhabited only by robots. Aminta felt a shiver flow throughout her body, prompting her to hurry outside.
Upon exiting, Aminta was greeted by the fantastic lighting she had seen from the Lucky 38. Buildings stretched high into the now night sky, perpetually lit up and calling for you to spend a few short hours in their luxurious suites and lose all the money you have without knowing it. She had visited the Strip a couple of times before the Second Battle of Hoover Dam. Back then, whilst still grand, its exterior walls felt cobbled-together, layered pieces of steel to preserve what glory the pre-war days had. Now, the Strip felt open, almost a complete return to complete pre-war glory, though there was no way of her knowing what such a time looked like. Polished, beetle like cars with extravagant interwoven pieces of silver and gold making up their hubcaps cluttered the road, filled with nicely dressed young women chattering incessantly.
Boys, ranging from teenagers to old men stumbled around, drunk and happy, their legs falling beneath them as though they were wet noodles. To the left, the Ultra Luxe Casino hotel stood at the far end of the street, intoxicatingly ostentatious and alluring for any hoping to climb the social ladder, despite the many rumors of cannibalism attempting to tarnish the brand. The fountain outside the front sprayed sparkling water into the night air which caught the light of the strip and reflected it like the jewels the building it was in front of was embroidered in. However, Aminta was not taken by the hotel, and watched two NCR troopers, still in their military uniforms be forced to dance in front of a crowd of onlookers. They were pushed and shoved as they struggled to dance, their arms and legs barely keeping to any rhythm as they fell to the ground, vomiting a putrid yellow substance onto the asphalt. She looked away in disgust and embarrassment for the two men.
A man in an expensive looking suit and bowtie greeted the three. Behind him stood a long polished black car.
‘Shall I take you to the crossing point?’
‘Yes.’ Donnie answered. Aminta and Neville followed his lead. He had more experience on the Strip than the majority of the tourists around them. She started the car once they were all inside, the engine barely kicking as it began to drive. Aminta marvelled at its power, it’s sleekness, at the strength and confidence of its movement and the luxury of it’s exotic wood plated interior.
The chauffeur drove to the large South Gate of the Strip, passing multitudinous buildings of similar grandeur and spectacle, all the same though uniquely different, until they all blurred into one mix of different colours and moving forms. The chauffeur leaned out of the side window, showed an identification pass to a Securitron, and the gate opened. Aminta’s car was the only car that left. As the gate closed, the car picked up speed and tore through the rest of Vegas.
Immediately outside the Strip, the buildings were noticeably more dilapidated. Aminta watched as the varied prosperity of the Strip curtailed rapidly into a mess of buildings, barely recognisable as residential or industrial, though they were unmistakably new creations. She almost didn’t notice it at first, but they were all the same. Row after row of buildings with the same geometric exterior, though placed at odd angles to each other, as if a child had been playing with them and haphazardly threw them into where they now stood. As the car moved further and further away from the Strip, lights in these buildings became scarce, and the brickwork became exposed to reveal pipelines and shreds of electrical appliances, some still spitting sparks. When the light of the Strip was nothing more than a flicker of light on the night horizon, the copied buildings were replaced with houses, roofs sagging, walls crumbling. As the car zipped passed, Aminta caught wisps of figures; people moving about the ruins and the darkness like ghosts, until they passed the last house, and all that could be seen was the night sky and desert shrubbery.

Ok It's Time for my . . . Annual Pre-Burning Man Rant and Predictions!!!
After 22+ years of attendance, I have watched this festival go from what was described by Wired Magazine in 1997 as, "what the internet would be like if it was happening in reality" to 2020 where, "What? In reality, this festival is happening on the internet" ?!? What a serious head fuck . . .
So strap in or strap on and get ready for disappointment . . . like virtually everything in this virtual world right now.
Here goes this year's Virtual Rant!
PREDICTIONS
The Virtual Burn is going the be everything you think it could be . . . an underwhelming and depressing reminder that you are not going the real Burning Man this year.
While it is still better than nothing, nothing is an extremely low bar. Get ready for a clusterfuck of 8 separately-produced interpretive video game dreamscapes, made by skilled teams of programmers eager to prove that their world-building technology will be able to make future financial investors a shitload of money.
Burning Man 2021 is a 50/50 chance at best. 2022 is not looking that great either. Between The Org burning cash on side projects, the FEDs wanting to crack down hard and the Bureau of Land Management clearly pretty fucking stoked that they did not have to deal with the whole shitshow this year, it's going to be an uphill battle for the festival to return.
Huge changes will need to be made.
Those few gluttons for punishment who do decide to go to the playa this week will be treated to Burning Man without the Burning Man Experience.
It will take all the hard work, organization and preparation for survival in the middle of a harsh desert environment for a week of Burning Man . . . just without the Burning Man.
If there is one silver lining of the event not happening this year, it's the fact that I don't have to pack up my dust covered Burning Man bullshit from last year, drive 19 hours, then have to smuggle drugs inside my ass to make it past the BLM rangers just go camping in one of the most fucking miserable and inhospitable places on earth.
Without Shirtcockers, Megaphones and Massive Thumping Soundsystems, it's just a bogus camping trip in bad weather with a shitload of cops.
This year we will NOT be seeing the usual post-Burn MASSSIVE FLOOD of social media posts from Burners who lost their nice $60 water bottle/container somewhere on the playa, often accompanied by a story of why this particular water container was of importance because it has a strap on it, followed by a brief description of unique camps stickers on it and a photo of said missing water bottle/container. In fact, while we are starting to think about cutting costs -- How about lost and found stops giving a fuck about your overpriced water bottle. You lost it, Becky . . . let it go. You spent 20 times More Money on Cocaine for the week than the price of your fucking stoopid-Smart-Bottle-container.
THE VIRTUAL BURN
This year’s Virtual Burn brings about more questions than it does answers.
How will Shirtcockers express their hatred of pants without a Burning Man? In a virtual world, they become no different than unsolicited dick pics.
How will Artcar Owners be able to swing their metaphorical dicks around without their Artcars booming Deep House music to show the world their girth. Sure, you can build one in the Minecraft world for this years Burn . . .But lets face it: No one is gonna be like "Who did that 3D CAD drawing, I totally wanna fuck them!"
What will all the Assholes with Megaphones do without Burners to heckle?
Without handheld amplified audio devices and wide-open spaces, they become no different than Internet Trolls.
How will Hippies on a Vision Quest be able find their spirit animal online? Without a guided shamanic ritual and Temple to burn, they become no different than someone playing Animal Crossing.
If there is no moop or trash to clean up in a virtual Burning Man how can Moop-shamers be able to prove to campmates and others that they are better at "doing Burning Man " than everyone else? In a virtual world they become no different than a Sarah McLaughlin Green Peace commercial.
How will Dooshbonnets and Dooshbags be able to gain followers on Instagram without the giant Robot Heart to climb?
How can they show the world that they not only have braved the pool of Piranhas chomping for position for line, negotiated past the all-seeing and all-knowing doorgirl with a clipboard, proving that they have climbed both the social and physical ladder to reach the top of the Robot Heart, so that they may look down upon the lowly dancefloor with both spite and pity for the unwashed masses who where not able achieve such greatness.
Without this accomplishment, they become no different than average Twitter users vying for Celebrity attention.
How will Burning Man DJs be able to disappoint us with poorly executed timing and bullshit Michael Jackson remixes? Without huge Soundsystems to bang out the worst in modern electronic music, DJs just become . . . The SAME TERRIBLE DJs just now on Twitch! #playatech #Djstreaming #Djsofburningman
Although each Virtual World must have been an amazing feat of programming in its scope and size, it kinda feels like a huge project that was done in a short amount of time. None of the Eight Worlds, in any way, reflect the typical Burning Man experience.
However, there are a few non-official super realistic Burning Man simulators out there.
By far the most realistic experience has to be the "Getting Out More This Year" Simulator.
The player is welcomed to a rich and tangible 3D World of Chris's DopeAss 70s RV, which is camped way out on 4:30 and H, where your avatar can spend all day and all night doing fun things like Ketamine, or other colorful interactive game play such as snorting Ketamine, and even interact with the virtual Chris’s chat box and watch his avatar do Ketamine.
Other game play options include doing Ketamine, talking about doing Ketamine and also doing Ketamine.
The more days and nights spent doing Ketamine, the higher the score! If you want to experience what a typical Burner really does the whole week, than this one is for you!!
Then we have: "Let's Go Party" . . . the online multi-player game where the objective is to get your group of more than 6 Burners to try and leave camp, and all go out to party together.
I did not have much fun playing. I was never able to leave the front of camp. 14 hours of game play later, Brenda still needs to go back for chapstick and Ricky can’t find his bag of blow. Then once Brenda arrives ready, Kaleporia is cold and needs a scarf. Darkwad David is going back to get some blinky lights for the 3rd time. Now Timmy can't find his cigarettes . . . Fuck.
“ManBun Boyfriend”. In this first person POV game, you (the ManBun) has little to no control within the game, with only a single "Ok, Sure" button to navigate within the world. The game play opens as the player is dragged out of bed at 6 AM by the onscreen girlfriend who takes you (the ManBun) on an treacherous journey of sunrise yoga classes, self help lectures, think and grow rich seminars, yoga, positive affirmation workshops, mindful guided mediations, yoga, healing arts ceremonies, wellness and well-being talks, yoga, vegan lifestyle in the new age conferences, yoga, mindful-and-wellness-group-chat and also yoga.
Extra points if you can score a selfie in front of the Giant BELIEVE letters!!
After 8 grueling hours of game play, it simply flashes a screen where girlfriend says "I'm Tired", and the “ManBun Boyfriend” simulator then restarts game play to opening sequence.
“DJs Girlfriend”. This simulation offers a similar experience to “ManBun Boyfriend”. However, in this first person POV game, you (the DJs Girlfriend) is invited to Follow "Dj GlockTrigger" on a dubstep-and-monster-energy-drink-filled adventure as you (the DJs Girlfriend) is rushed from empty dancefloor to empty dancefloor, while picking up extra points if you can find him a "line of blow". After 12 hours of game play the screen flashes "Hey babe I'm gonna go drink with the boyies" and game play is reset.
THE RANT
I am not that great at finance. Obviously. I’ve been to Burning Man 22 times. That should tell you enough about my poor financial / life choices.
But even this burnout Burner can do the math and see that the Burning Man Org is in financial trouble.
Burning Man may need to sell out to save itself. It would not be the first time..
Burning Man "sold out" to the PsyTrance community in 1997. To help ticket sales, the Bay Area was flooded with seriously lame underproduced Rave flyers. Or maybe Dr. Dre can toss in a few million to keep The Org afloat once again.
Or hey why don't we start tickling Elon Musk's balls again, and see if we can start choking on his shaft in return for some sweet corporate demon semen sponsorship.
The Org has already gone pinky finger deep with him. Like when Tesla brought out a full-on Electric Car Expo. That's right, in 2007, at Burning Man, right at fucking Esplanade & 9:00, they had what can only be described as an “anonymous car dealership” from “the green future”, complete with lengthy-worded displays filled with lofty promises of clean energy, infused with subtle corporate propaganda.
In the center of the exhibit sat a life-size solid black plastic model Tesla car.
As well as someone on guard 24/7 to make sure no one tagged or fucked with the stoopid thing. I personally got chased out for drawing a dick in the DUST on the window! All I know is they should have burnt it down or blew it up by the end of the week, but that lame ass mother fucker was still there on Sunday when I journeyed back to draw a dick on it again -- this time with a PAINT PEN. After executing a perfect fat-sacked-choad-headed-donger on the hood, I was once again chased out by rangers, this time with pitchforks screaming bloody murder for my head!!
Fuck you, Ranger Doug! You will never be able to prove that was Me!!!
So Look, it's not the first time The Org spread its asscheeks for a little bit of corporate dick on the side. They also bent over back in 2013 and let Mark Fucking Zuckerberg bring a Giant Golden 'LIKE' sculpture out there. I just hope they did the right thing by the end of week and it was killed with fire.
SO we know The Org is corporateBiCurious. Time to snuggle up, get out of the corporate cocksucking closet and cash in on the fact that this place sold out a long time ago.
Start flirting with attractive corporate entities like Mark Z, the Google Boys, Elon, Tommy Boy from Myspace, or maybe even P-Diddy to toss in some cash to get this fucking party started again!
Yo, Elon! How can we have Burning Man on Mars in 2050 as planned, if we can’t keep it going on Earth for the next 30 years?
At this point, The Org can spread their legs in the backseat of that Tesla and change next years theme to Space-X. I could give a FUCK!!!!! As long as we can keep Old Naked Dudes On Bikes rolling free.
Let some of these cocksucking limpdick corporations like Doritos -- who have already profited from using our Artcars and culture in a their fabricated commercials -- actually fucking pay us money and we will let them shoot a real commercial out there. Have fun pixelating the nipples out of the background actors. I COULD GIVE A FUCK as long as Shirtcockers have a natural habitat to dongslap and roam free. Let Brazzers.com build the Temple! I sincerely really don't care what they do . . . as long as Assholes with Megaphones have wide open spaces to heckle Burners in the Black Rock Desert like GOD intended.
BACK TO BASICS : THE FESTIVAL WILL NEED TO RESEST
Maybe The Org will stop fisting themselves in the burnhole with all the Cultural-Direction-Bullshit and get down to brass tax here.
They have spent years trying to market the festival as a family-friendly-non-offensive-all-inclusive-experience for the suburban upperclass while still catering to the super elite.
We need The Org to provide the DPW and Tickets . . .
Not for Cultural Direction, or Large Scale Art Funding Circle Jerks, Abstract Charity Causes, International Involvement, or any of the Meaningless Feel-Good Propaganda tools they use to control the image of the festival!
The number one focus from here on out needs to be the festival itself taking place once again in Black Rock City!
This defacto-defunding of The Org is a blessing. Look, when it comes down to it, it's not about the lame fucking themes each year. It's about the Burners who come and contribute to the festival that makes it special.
It’s not about overpriced art grants, or Rich-Dick Theme Camp placement priorities. It about the shitty unofficial un-themed camp at 7:00 and J blaring Discotrance music on a distorted soundsystem while giving away room temperature margaritas!
I could give a fuck about all of the elaborate expensive blinking bullshit! Cuts cost! Make the Burning Man effigy from toothpicks for all I give a fuck. None of that shit really matters. The spirit of Burning Man is in the person giving away ice cream from a cooler out in deep playa on a hot afternoon.
The soul of the festival is in Old Naked Dudes on a Bikes rolling free across the desert!
The heart of the festival is the Nightmare Hippy Chick on Acid rolling around in the dust, screaming about her spirit vegetable.
Believe me if The Org had its way, Burning Man would be nothing but Transformational Mediation Seminars, Yoga Classes, Ultra Overpriced Sculptures, and TED talks about how to get rich quick selling a new type of investment portfolio.
I am perfectly happy with the crappy bars and half-assed theme camps that are there just to have a good time. We don't need The Org's unique brand of new age capital-elitism bullshit.
They have clearly dropped the ball on the Cultural Direction for years, and the less they steer the ship, the better, cuz we have already washed up on the rocks.
BULLSHIT CLICKBAIT
“Top 10 Burning Man Pictures You Must See To Believe!”
And once clicked, sure enough it’s nothing but a bunch of super basic-ass photos of some super-hot-Coachella-swinger-couple at sunset in front of the most gentrified “OMG I need to get a selfie in front that to show my followers on Instagram” artwork on the playa.
You already know exactly where these fucksticks took the stoopid photo is front of, OF fucking course it's in front of the BELIEVE letters. It’s Basically the "live, laugh, love" of playa art.
Really, I won't believe this ?!
What I won't believe is that their relationship is going to last beyond next week . . . cuz there’s a 90% chance they are gonna join the wrong gangbang at the Orgy Dome and suddenly someone is not happy about the amount of buttfucking the other one received.
Thanks Business Insider Magazine for exposing the public to the wild and crazy world that is Burning Man. Now every fucking Chad and Becky from Wall Street is trying to come here to get laid. "Bro if I was there I would bang so many Hot Chicks on top of those letters" . . . "OMG I LOVE those Letters!! We are SOOO going to Burning Man to meet our future husbands <3."
How about 10 REAL photos you won’t believe?
Too bad the cameras weren’t there to snap a picture of the guy who took a shower with a fat chick and midget porn star!
It’s a shame no one from the Daily Mail UK was there to catch video of the guy who was tripping his nuts off and could not figure out how to unlock the door of the porta-potty -- escaping only by busting through the plastic roof and climbing out the top several hours later.
Or how about that chick at the meditation camp that was able to summon a higher power of consciousness and transcended the spacetime continuum for a short/infinite amount of time!
Where the fuck was BoredPanda.com to catch a photo of the person who was hit with a rubber dildo when it was carelessly thrown from the top of the Space Pirate ship into the Mayan Warrior crowd.
Now That’s some real stuff that happens out there that I would be happy to clickbait on!
THERE WILL BE SOME CHANGES MADE
The Large Scale Art:
Instead of funding massive installations that end up being resold to casinos on the Las Vegas strip, why not treat them like large Rich-Dick Theme Camps -- give the Installation Artists 200 DGS Tickets, and in return, these assholes will be happy to spend shitloads of money on blinky light towers or whatever, just so they can lock in those sweet sweet reserved tickets for themselves and their friends.
The Tone:
The Utopian Blinkylight Dreamscape has been cool for the past 16 years . . . Buuuut . . . it has gradually fallen out of touch with the world around us.
For far too long, The Org has ignored camps or underfunded art that could be perceived as dark or controversial in any way, shape or form.
Yet again, another example of their Cultural Direction Tactics to market Burning Man as a blinky-light-mickey-mouse-Epcot-Center for wealthy-business-insiders-and-celebrities featuring a safespace-family-oriented-wholesome-body-wellness-green-living-environment for social-media-influencer-photo-shoots.
Burning Man has NEVER been a Safe place!
In 1998, I witnessed a beheading by guillotine at the Opera Performance that was so realistic I spent the next 5 hours (still frying balls on acid!) convinced that Billy Graham was right about this place being a Satanic death cult that would bring about the end of the world.
IT WAS DISTURBING!
If the Barbie Death Camp incident at last years’ Burn taught us anything, it is that there clearly need to be risky and controversial works of art at the festival.
We can't be having pussy-footed Australians throwing temper tantrums like little punk bitches CUZ they don't like the way someone put Barbie Dolls inside an oven!
Why did that do-good-koala-humping-limpdick-ASS-licker think it was OK? Well . . .The Org has shoved the narrative that Burning Man is strictly "good vibes only" down our fucking throats so deep that we finally gagged from it.
Why the fuck was that guy even there? Well, he clicked on the Business Insiders’ “Top Ten Burning Man Photos You Must See To BELIEVE” and thought it was gonna be nothing but butterfly sculptures and Instagram Models in front of giant letters.
No Kids:
Yep. Sorry Minecraft Burners, but you are gonna have to wait until you are 21 to come to this party!
Renegotiating the insurance policy as an over-21 festival will save The Org millions and millions of dollars.
Out of 80,000 people, less than .05% are under 21 . . .yet we have to check IDs at every fucking bar !?
Every year the gate gets closed down and no one can filter in or out because someone asshole can't find their kid. This should be a HUGE red flag !
Law Enforcement uses the fact that minors are allowed at the event as justification to engage in predatory conduct such as undercover stings, camp raids and random tickets for unsuspecting bartenders who forget to check IDs.
Also I am not comfortable with the legal grey area the Shirtcocking and Titbouncing in the presence of minors creates.
And if it ever comes down to nudity versus allowing kids, I am sorry but we can't sacrifice the heart of this festival on account of the fact that you don't want to get a fucking babysitter for the week.
Your kids could give a flying-donald-duck-fuck about Burning Man! You and I both know goddamn well that given the opportunity they would rather play video games for the week at grandma's house then have to listen to Mom and Dad fight at Burning Man all week about who got buttfucked by whom at the Orgy Dome. . .
LEAVE THEM AT HOME!!!!!!
So the rest of us can be free to fuck, drink, smoke and wave our goddamn dicks and clits around whereever we see fit!!!
The Temple:
In the early days of the David Best Temples, they were constructed from the leftover hollows of wooden dinosaur jigsaw puzzle pieces.
It was low cost, recycled and pretty fucking cool!
Last year’s Temple was overdesigned, structurally unsound, and made from rare rustic-oak hardwood and redwood trees imported from China.
Let’s cut costs and just do what those guys from Belgium did in 2005. It's a Very Simple Plan. We get a shitload of old 2x4 boards and fucking Wing It! The Belgium Waffle House would have made a perfectly good Temple.
Garbage Dumpsters:
Yep, that's right. In the future we will have dumpsters at Burning Man! All the Survivalist and Moop-shaming Burners say it will destroy the festival. Guess what, Burn Nut? It's already common practice for larger theme camps to rent dumpsters that are emptied at the end of the week!! It's been going on for YEARS! So what?
Theme Camps will now have to pay a dumpster fee and there will be strict rules around any public dumpsters. Believe me The Org will provide the minimum amount possible to accommodate the BLM. It won't be nearly enough dumpsters for everyone to just toss all their trash, recycling and extra bikes into.
Don't worry, Radical Self-Reliant Survivalist Burnertypes, other people will still have to suffer packing up and dealing with their own trash on the ride home. Moop-shamers rejoice! You will definitely still be able to shame people for mooping and not cleaning up, if not even more so now. I don't see why we can't be Radically Self-Reliant by having dumpsters on site. We will still Leave No Trace, while leaving one less thing for surrounding communities to bitch about.
Build the Wall !!!
Ya fuck it! Build the Wall. So what? Honestly, it will be more aesthetically pleasing than that fucking orange fence. And if that is what the Feds want, that's cool with me -- as long as The Org gets to choose who does Security!
Thank fucking god we are not doing Burning Man this year.
With the world on fire all around us, it seems a bit tone-def to hold a giant rave utopia party!
I, for one, will be enjoying the week indoors under air-conditioning and rolling around in the heaps of cash I am saving by not going. I’m not attending a single workshop to expand my consciousness, not giving a single gift to anyone, and not being radical or self-reliant in any way.
Fuck your Virtual Burn.
I am Zapper Jones. I will see you in the Dust again . . . Sometime Somewhere in the Future!

"Mos Eisley Spaceport. Never again will you find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy. We must be cautious."
In the original Star Wars, Chalmun's Spaceport Cantina (yeah I just found out what it was actually called, thanks Wookieepedia) introduced us to the breadth of bizarre alien creatures in the Star Wars galaxy, all crammed in a seedy bar on a backwater planet. From the hammer-headed Ithorian designed by Ron Cobb to the devilish Devaronian designed by Rick Baker, Lucas's creative team helped bring a universe of seemingly limitless possibilities to life in one short sequence. The scene has had a number of homages and imitations in other entries of the saga, but how do they all stack up compared to the original and arguably the best?
There's some criteria for what constitutes a "cantina" scene. It has to be some kind of enclosed environment featuring a plethora of unique alien designs with tonnes of visible personality as well as an overall lively though somewhat intimidating atmosphere for the protagonists. I'll be ranking them all out of 10 on the Cantina Factor. I'll only be counting the mainline "episodes" of the saga.
Episode V... doesn't have a cantina scene. The closest thing is the bounty hunter gathering on the Star Destroyer bridge, but... it doesn't really have the same feel and is a bit too brief to count. Move along, move along.
Episode VI, on the other hand, throws us right into the 24/7 partyhouse that it Jabba's Palace. A stew of filth and debauchery surpassing Mos Eisley, you almost feel dirty just looking at this place. Jabba is truly the Fisher King of his establishment, everything is as grimy and seedy as the giant slug himself. We see Jabba's entourage of performers, jesters and burlesque dancers, as well as servants, guards, bounty hunters, VIPs and assorted criminal scum. Compared to Mos Eisley, we get to see this litany of bizarre characters in greater focus, with many turning out to be quite important figures in the expanded universe. The main centres of attraction include: Jabba's pale, weak-minded Twi'lek majordomo Bib Fortuna; the axe-wielding, boar-like Gamorrean Guards; Jabba's cackling jester Salacious B. Crumb; Boba Fett flirting with girls; Oola the sexy Twi'lek slave dancer who's fed to the Rancor; Malakili the Rancor keeper who tenderly weeps when his beloved pet is crushed to death; EV-9D9 the sadistic torture droid; Ephant Mon the horrifically ugly elephant thing who is apparently Jabba's best mate; and last but not least, Max Rebo the cute blue DJ. Bossk the Trandoshan bounty hunter also has a blink-and-you'll-miss-it cameo. The 1997 Special Edition controversially extends the song-and-dance number with Sy Snootles, replacing her (admittedly awful) puppet with CGI and adding an entirely new singer, Joh Yowza, who obnoxiously mugs the camera during his solo. Overall, the Jabba's Palace scene is in many ways better than the original Mos Eisley cantina scene, but it suffers greatly in the Special Edition... still, nothing can stop it ranking a solid 9/10 on the Cantina Factor.
With an enhanced budget and new fangled digital effects technology, Episode I is basically one long creature-feature. There's not really a single scene quite like Mos Eisley, as nearly every scene seems to have crowds of alien extras wandering around. Ironically, we don't see any cantina-like locations on Tatooine in the film, though the Boonta Eve Classic podrace scene provides us a decent alternative. All of the greatest podracers in the Outer Rim gathered together with their own idiosyncratic vehicles, including Anakin's cruel arch-rival Sebulba, the four-armed Gasgano, and the legend himself Ben Quadrinaros. Pit droids wander around providing some visual comedy. We see Jabba and Gardulla presiding over the event, with live race commentary provided in both Basic and Huttese by the hammy two-headed Fodesinbeed Annodue, a.k.a. Fode and Beed. Anakin's slave friends, including the young Rhodian played by Warwick Davis, also appear to cheer him on. However, considering that the rest of the film shoves so many CGI alien mugs in our faces all the way through, it doesn't have quite as much impact. 6/10.
In Episode II, we get the Outlander Club on Coruscant during Obi-Wan and Anakin's citywide chase for the bounty hunter Zam Wessell. As an avid clubber myself (not so much now, thanks COVID), I naturally like this scene and it's also cool to see the night life on a civilised Core World for once. On the downside, we don't get a good look at many quirky alien characters, but the one who does make an impression is no less than excellent: the deathstick dealer Elan Sleazebaggio. I wonder if he did go home and rethink his life? The scene also started the fan theory that Obi-Wan might be an alcoholic, seeing as he eagerly heads straight to the bar for some shots like the absolute legend he is. The "Jedi causes commotion with lightsaber, everyone looks then just carries on as normal" beat is given a tribute too. Moreover, the Outlander Club is used in an awesome fan film called Hell's Club which mashes together various iconic club scenes from other movies -- Ewan McGregor's Obi-Wan encounters Ewan McGregor's Renton from Trainspotting while Tony Manero from Saturday Night Fever leers at Anakin a little too long (also the madness makes Carlito's death no less sad, RIP). 8/10.
Episode III, there isn't one, skip.
Being a soft remake of Episode IV, Episode VII gives us a straightforward cantina scene with Maz Kanata's Castle on Takodana. Takodana might be one of my favourite locations in the whole saga. On paper it's an unremarkable forest planet but there's something... tangible about it. The fact that it was filmed in a real forest and a real set for the castle rather than a greenscreen backdrop definitely helps. Beyond Kanata herself, we see glimpses of some interesting looking characters, including: Grummgar the hulking big game hunter; Bazine Netal the enigmatic First Order spy who rats on BB-8; and most memorable of all, Sidon Ithano a.k.a. The Crimson Corsair, the red-garbed mercenary who Finn offers to join up with. Among the flags adorning the castle, you can also see the emblem of the real life charity organisation, the 501st Legion. Nice touch. Will we ever find out how the Skywalker lightsaber got there though? 9/10.
Episode VIII gives us the controversial Canto Bight on planet Cantonica. I'm very much pro-Canto Bight, it's a perfect 'anti-Mos Eisley'. Rather than a usual wretched hive of destitute criminals, Cantonica is a luxury casino resort filled with the disgusting, decadent elite of the galaxy. Crooks of a different breed. The aesthetic is great, it's all white and clean but filled with some truly repulsive-looking aliens squeezed into tight tuxedos and dresses. Like Finn, it's easy to get lost in the glitz and glamour until you see what it's all built on, then you can cheer when the Fathiers tear it all down. As bad as it all is, a part of me still finds Canto Bight appealing -- I wouldn't mind getting suited and booted and playing a bit of roulette (or the Star Wars verse equivalent of it, idfk) with some fuckin' weird aliens. Speaking of, let's get to some. We've got: Countess Alissyndrex delga Cantonica Provincion, the ruler of the town who can only be described as a purple slab of meat with a human face; Lexo Sooger the long-armed masseur; Slowen Lo the busybody Abendedo who almost destroys the Resistance because Finn and Rose parked on a beach; the Cthulhu-esque Palandag jazz band, somehow weirder than the Modal Nodes from Mos Eisley; Dobbu Scay the diminutive monocled alien who drunkenly mistakes BB-8 for a slot machine, also played by Mark Hamill; Justin Theroux and doll-faced model Lily Cole cameoing as the suave "Master Codebreaker" and his square-haired partner respectively; and of course, Benicio del Toro's "DJ" imprisoned down in the cells. Below the casino itself, we see the abusive slavery practices on both animals and children, with the boy Temiri Blagg revealing himself as Force-sensitive in the ending shot of the film after being inspired by the legend of Luke Skywalker. Whether or not you like its role in the story, it's a damn good alien cantina, 10/10.
Finally, we get to Episode IX. It's easy to miss because of how insanely fast-paced the film is, but yeah, there is a cantina scene on Kijimi, in the Spice Runner Den. I always wondered if this planet is a reference to Hideo Kojima, makes sense considering he and J.J. Abrams are friends, though apparently it's also a reference to some Japanese synthesizer brand. It's nothing to write home about. I mean, yeah, we're introduced to Zorii Bliss and Babu Frik, the best character in the entire trilogy, but what else is there? Oh yeah, a cameo from John freakin' Williams as the bartender Oma Tres. But yeah, apart from that, it's bland and forgettable, there are some aliens dotted around but none of them are focused on particularly. 3/10.
And there you have it. I felt weird about ranking Mos Eisley itself with its own imitators when it originated the whole trope, so I leave that one to you guys. Which is your favourite?

Hello, you may know me from DD posts about IVZ and 3DP. I'm still heavily in these. But today I bring you SBW.
Ok for real, this might be the laziest DD you've read because it was copy pasted direct from hotcopper. But it will also be the best DD you've read (no offence to u/bigjimbeef recent DD on this but he's always drunk and while his DD did get me interested in this, I think maybe some people didn't take his post seriously because the post read like he had a beer in one hand and his dick in the other).
But I've been thinking lately... wouldn't it be nice if I could, for once, jump on a stock, before it rockets? Like... Every stock I've been in so far has holders who are already 10 bagging. How do they find these stocks and how can I become one of them?
Well, here is your chance. Full disclosure, I'm in at 26.5c, closing price today is 24.5c. It IPOd at 35c so we are still at bargain prices. No rocket yet. If you can think of a reason not to buy, please say so, before I take a larger position tmw morning, as I am trying to keep myself from getting overly keen on yet another stock but so far I can't find a good reason to put money anywhere else.
Copy pasta below:
I thought it was about time that I made the “Ultimate Guide to SBW” and consolidated months of research and analysis into one comprehensive post. Then we can add bits to it from there as more positive news develops.
Let us start with capital structure.
Capital Structure and Why This Is Important!
There are currently 139 million shares on issue, sitting at a price of 32 cents.
This gives a Market Capitalization of approximately ~45 million AUD.
Keep this in mind when we discuss partners and peers later - it’s arguably a more important metric than share price.
The Top 20 shareholders of SBW (which includes key management as the Top 2 holders) have about 90% of the stock on issue. The interests of management are well-aligned with shareholders.
What does this mean in plain English? It means management are extremely incentivized to perform, and are not just idly sitting by collecting an easy paycheck like so many other ASX companies. They have as much at stake as you do! Probably more.
The Core Business
The core business is a profitable operation which has been selling weighing systems to both retail and healthcare sectors – with reliable recurring revenue from customers including, but not limited to, household names like Toshiba and Fujitsu.
SBW have a combination of weighing + artificial intelligence + advanced mathematics which cannot be easily duplicated. The company was first founded in 1971 and was one of the first to shift from mechanical to digital weighing and ultra-thin IoT load sensors.
If you are interested in reading up on some of their patents, please see this link:
https://patents.justia.com/search?q=Shekel scales
I found 11 separate patents here, which are probably not an exhaustive list, but ranging from weighing vehicles in motion, to load cell devices (this is the flagship technology), point of sale apparatus and infant weight systems (for their medical customers)
SBW's three main technology pillars, including patented ultra-thin high precision load sensors, can distinguish between Coke, Fanta & Pepsi - even if they are all in 1.5 litre bottles!
The Hitachi Project (Hitachi’s Market Cap = roughly ~33 billion USD at time of writing, SBW = ~45 million AUD)
http://hlds.co.jp/product-eng/1079
[Translated from Japanese] Hitachi-LG Data Storage. Inc. exhibited in “NRF 2020 Retail’s Big Show” which took place at Jacob K. Javits Convention Center in New York from 1/12-1/14/2020, where Unmanned Store solution using 3D LiDAR(TOF) was jointly exhibited with Hitachi America, Hitachi Vantara, and Shekel Brainweigh (Israel).
Some quotes I found from Hitachi themselves
“Micro-markets are the fastest growing segment of convenience shopping. We see them exploding in high traffic areas, such as workplaces, campuses, train stations and airports,” said Hideki Hayashi, Sales and Marketing Manager, Hitachi EU Ltd.
“Deploying the joint Shekel-Hitachi solution enables retailers and micro-market operators to provide the 24/7 frictionless shopping experience consumers demand without sacrificing accuracy, performance or profitability.”
“As the manager responsible for LiDAR products in EMEA markets, I consider the R&D and commercial collaboration with Shekel Brainweigh to be the perfect partnership as we both bring our respective capabilities to develop a seamless consumer shopping experience. We are extremely pleased to collaborate with Shekel Brainweigh, which we believe is the best digital weighing technology developer globally."
“The collaboration builds on our expertise in optical motion sensors, together with Shekel’s advanced Product Aware Technology, and further strengthens our commitment to overcome the challenges, and address the significant opportunities, in global retail store automation.”
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P-uxk2Ycoqw
The Open Retail Initiative
https://www.lfedge.org/2020/02/13/n...ensor-fusion-for-intelligent-loss-prevention/
For the one-year anniversary of ORI, six initiative members Edgify, Flooid, Shekel and LF Edge members HP, IOTech and Intel inspired by the initiative, worked together on a demo for the Intel booth that showcased the value of Real Time Sensor Fusion for a loss prevention use case at self-checkout. The retail environment has become incredibly complex. The latest technologies enable data-driven experiences and unlock business value like never before, yet there is still a lack of interoperability making it difficult for retailers to deploy integrated solutions with speed and ease. The demo illustrates how integration roadblocks can be a thing of the past.
The demo pulls together real time data through the EdgeX middleware from different common systems including POS real-time transaction log, CV-based object detection, scale solution, and RFID, and data fusion—all in a single pane of glass.
Here are some PowerPoint slides of IBM, Intel & Hewlett-Packard talking about the joint solution
https://wiki.edgexfoundry.org/downl...amp;modificationDate=1579904283000&api=v2
The Fast Track Project
https://www.edgify.ai/retail/
Reduce time at till and selection at self-checkout by up to 98%. Computer vision-based product recognition, that continuously learns directly on the till, so the accuracy of the detection always increases.
Friction-less stores are great in theory but extremely complicated to scale in practice. Our edge training solution makes autonomous stores scalable, by having all the AI train directly on the camera. No infrastructure costs and no added complications.
Reduce incorrect selections by up to 90%. Either intentional or unintentional, use computer vision that is trained directly on the SCO itself to reduce loss by more than half!
No barcodes, no packaging, no worries. Simple USB cameras can detect the produce at close to 100% accuracy. Use as a decision support for cashiers, or to avoid consumers having to go through long and confusing menus.
https://www.edgify.ai/wp-content/uploads/2019/08/Retail_Intro.pdf
https://twitter.com/Edgify_AI/status/1277859718413930505
https://twitter.com/Edgify_AI/status/1230534216133332997
Shekel’s Visual Recognition Platform embedded with Edgify’s machine-learning training framework is the world’s first cloudless software that automatically recognises products, including fresh produce, at a retail self-checkout.
This ~45 million AUD Market Cap company allows retailers to potentially bypass expensive cloud services from Microsoft, Google and Amazon.
Sending data to the cloud is a very costly process with the Google Cloud Platform charging 1,000 stores more than US$7.2 million in cloud computing power per annum.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FrpZ56IdFtg
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lpqwqQ1tJ4A
You can see the Shekel system 35 seconds in.
Patnership with Madix (2nd Largest Retail Shelves Manufacturer in NA)
https://www.bloomberg.com/press-rel...ade-product-aware-cabinets-to-retail-industry
NEW YORK -- January 13, 2020
Madix Inc., the second largest retail shelves manufacturer in North America, and Shekel Brainweigh Ltd. (ASX: SBW), the leader in advanced weighing technology, today announced the availability of ready-made Product Aware shelves and solutions for the retail industry.
“By seamlessly integrating Product Aware shelves into our hardware, our customers are armed with accessible data giving them reliable inventory visibility and assisting them in addressing over-stock and out-of-stock problems, as well as better control over shrinkage” said Steve Kramer, VP Sales, Madix.
“For the retail industry, this is a defined competitive edge that promotes the opportunity to increase profitability.”
Conclusion
So, remember - the core scales business is what drives the revenue we see today, but the innovation division is where the real potential resides. That will take a few more months/years to play out. I think most people are buying for the fully autonomous frictionless retail technology which comes with a huge addressable market. That’s still being undervalued in my humble opinion.
Considering there are quite a few ASX-listed tech companies with no revenue and over 100 million market cap (some even @ 1 billion market cap right now…
I don’t see why SBW couldn’t move past ~45m market cap in the near future.
Now if you read all this - links included- I commend you for your diligence. It should be obvious now that the Capsule (in partnership with Hitachi) is the “crown jewel” or “holy grail” of retail disruption technology plays (look at the success of Amazon GO for example).
So you are probably thinking: "This sounds great @verce but it’s all just aspirational and hypothetical. When will it be put into operation?" Well I’m glad you asked. The answer might surprise you. And it may be sooner than you think.
The SBW Half Year Report from 31 August 2020 had a little snippet that I think a lot of people missed. Specifically, the following text:
“Flagship micro-market project Capsule is in an advanced stage of pilot in Europe, and expected to be open to the public for trial in the second half of 2020.”
Now you are probably wondering: "That’s great but what if it’s just some obscure insignificant corner store somewhere?" Again, the answer may surprise you, and requires a little digging.
Enter Groupe Casino. A historic player in French retailing since 1898, the Casino Group is one of the world leaders in food retailing with more than 12,200 stores worldwide, located in France, Latin America and the Indian Ocean and a turnover of 37.8 billion euro.
In their Annual Report this year, they mentioned an exciting new disruptive project they were working on with a relatively obscure company.
https://www.groupe-casino.fwp-content/uploads/2020/06/RapportActivite_Casino_2019_EN.pdf
And we have some commentary from SBW featured on Page 42-43 of their Annual Report plugging "the first fully autonomous store in Europe". I'll leave it to readers to determine the significance of being mentioned in the Annual Report of a leading mass-market retail group with billions of Euro in revenue.
The same group who claim to be the source of many innovations such as the first distributor's brand in 1901, the first self-service store in 1948 or even the display of a sell-by date on consumer products in 1959. They are always pushing the boundaries of innovation, and it's an exciting partner to have.
It’s also worth keeping in mind that issuing shares are not the only mechanism by which to raise money. And that a placement at a premium to a sophisticated cornerstone investor can yield great results. Kind of like what happened with 3DP and IHR.
If I was them, I’d be asking Hitachi to chip in.
SBW also have the luxury of generating enough revenue (we are talking USD millions) in 2H20 from the core scales division, that a capital raising may not actually be necessary at this point in time. So they can wait for a better outcome.
Source: “Post 30 June 2020, the business has seen a resurgence of orders for Shekel’s products, resulting in July 2020 sales exceeding July 2019 sales by approximately 18%.”
The final thing I would like to add (if you have in fact read my other two posts which are worth reading) is coming to an appropriate valuation. This is the tricky part, especially with microcap stocks which are valued on their future potential.
We do know that there are medium to high barriers to entry, and that SBW have accumulated a competitive edge with their technology iterated over several decades, with certain patents in place.
We also know that the opportunity is global in scope with a huge total addressable market (TAM) - and that traditional retail is ripe for disruption.
Remember when there were more human checkout lanes at supermarkets than self-checkout? Now it's the other way around. We are even starting to see self-checkout in Bunnings. The trend for autonomous and friction-less shopping - what some term "Grab & Go" - was inevitable. And coronavirus has only accelerated this trend.
https://www.ibtimes.com/5-tech-tren...-end-year-result-coronavirus-pandemic-3011819
5 Tech Trends Expected To Shape Retail Through The End Of The Year As Result Of The Coronavirus Pandemic
“Retailers and brands will need to collaborate more than ever with technology startups to futureproof their businesses and be better equipped to meet fast-changing consumer demand and behavior,” Coresight said.
Coresight reported the pandemic has piqued consumer interest in cashierless models.
Technology firm Shekel Brainweigh said 87% of respondents to its global consumer survey indicated they would choose stores with self-checkout over those with only cashier lines.
So if you ask me, when you consider all the different technology projects SBW are working on - most of which we now know are "close to commercialisation*" - is 45m AUD market cap really fair value for something that has the potential to roll out globally? I personally think it is still undervalued, but the market will eventually decide one way or the other.
Even at 70 cents per share, the implied market cap with only 139 million shares on issue is about ~97 million AUD. Which is still less than 100m. And still quite low when you compare SBW's proven technology and revenue to a lot of unproven technology companies with no real customers whatsoever. And extremely low when you compare SBW's market cap to their collaborative partner Hitachi (ranked 38th in the 2012 Fortune Global 500).
Even at 32 cents as it currently stands, we are still below the IPO price when SBW first listed at 35 cents per share. How does that make any sense?

Dear, Those Weary of OLD
This time of the year can especially difficult for some that are alone - for whatever the circumstances. We can all agree that love is a fundamental human need (as well as other animals - all you fur parents out there). We are told from a young age that in order to live a happy, healthy, and fulfilling life you must have that four letter word - LOVE. What if I told you that even though that is completely true, the HOW you get love is actually more important and why it may not be working. I am not a psychologist nor a relationship therapists, I am not a counselor nor a dating expert (although after 20 years of dating, I have some pretty good ideas). This letter are merely thoughts and observations that I have to share for those of you that are feeling alone, forgotten or unloved. No doubt this dumpster fire of a year has surely created isolation and mental health issues for everyone. But, being single and alone presents a much different picture, especially for those desperately looking for a meaningful relationship (more on that in a bit...).
To provide a little context, I have been single for just shy of two years out of relationship that in retrospect I could only describe as a significant life experience that has forged me into being stronger and more resilient man than every before. It was an abusive and toxic relationship that I allowed to continue for way too long - this was my fault. I would like to take the time now to thank God, Yahweh, Allah, Buddah and every other universal spirit that helped guide me back on my path after that relationship. In all honesty, I have a few friends that were beyond helpful through that process - you know who you are ;)
After my break-up, I sat in grief trying to figure out how I got there and where I was going to go. Naturally, I turned to good old online dating. And did so significantly prematurely without realizing all of the self-work that I needed to do to heal myself. I was looking for that next date, the next girl, the next relationship to fill my void. To help cure my lonesomeness, my aching desire for love, to be loved. I have always dated and met women in-person or not through online methods. I had friends who were ranting and raving about how "easy" it was to meet women and how much "fun" you can have. on sites like Tinder, Hinge, or Bumble. I was skeptical because I enjoy the process of connection when meeting someone live and in-person and doing it "old school". Nonetheless, I was so desperate for something different and an easy fix for my newly love lost. That was my first hit of the drug that I call - OLD or Online Dating. And in the words of Rick James, it is one hell of a drug.
For almost two years, I swiped or clicked through thousands of profiles, got tons of numbers, went on dozens of dates, had a few pseudo-relationships that lasted usually no longer that 40-60 days. However, after investing emotional capital, time, financial resources, I still did not find what I was looking for - a true relationship. Ultimately, the whole online dating game became exhausting, time consuming and left me feeling worst about myself than I ever had in my life - sound familiar?... I kept repeating this process over and over reaping the same results. If I could make a standard operating procedure, it goes something like this;
​

• Every X, profile (20-80) , I would swipe or click or message someone on 1 of my 3 OLD platforms. Continue the search.
• Connect and message back and forth with anywhere from 4-10 people on OLD platform. Most of them will ghost a conversation due to the overwhelming amount of conversations they are trying to have. I am guy, I cannot imagine what it is like for women.
• Get 3 or 4 numbers and take those conversations offline.
• Continue talking on the phone with 2-3 people offline.
• Schedule a date with 1 or 2 of the people from phone numbers.
• Go out on date with 1 maybe 2 of the people from phone numbers. (Step 6 is the first in-person meeting)
• Either go on a 2nd date, hook-up, or stop talking.
• Continue the search on OLD and acquiring phone numbers, meaningless conversations, repeat.

Definition of Insanity: Doing something over and over again the same way and expecting a different outcome.
I literally had dating fatigue (what is this fucking WWII - battle fatigue?) Yes, that is now an actual term. I felt like I was running human intelligence collection for the CIA or something. So how is something that is supposed to be enjoyable and fun been morphed into something onerous for mental health and our self-esteem?
We are attempting to create authentic relationships through inauthentic mediums. We are seeking instant gratification for something that takes time, patience and a little luck to build. We are looking for someone to share that endless "honeymoon" feeling that doesn't exist.
Here is what I am talking about. It has been clearly researched and documented on the cognitive manipulation social media has on its users (i.e. Social Dilemma or Agents of Chaos for a more geopolitical perspective). We are clearly seeing how younger generations suffer from higher levels of depression and lower self-esteem and effects of online bullying. We are seeing the addictive properties of social media and technology and how these platforms are designed to keep the user engaged for a long-extended period of time and for as frequently as possible. We have seen how these social media platforms that were designed to bring us together has actually made us farther apart. We have to remember that OLD is social media.
I used to joke about seeing a group of high schools interacting in a modern group setting, all of them had their phones out and nobody engaging or being present. In my own hypocrisy, I was making fun of those students for something that I was doing myself. While I was swiping away while I wait for my coffee in-line, I wasn't engaging either. How many potential conversations could I have started with potential partners in real life that I missed? I will never know. However, see how starting a real in-person conversation right there in the moment is an instant connection (or not) and in my online dating procedure we don't even get to the in-person communication until Step. 6?... Think about how much time and work that is to text message individuals, many who are only seeking personal affirmation and attention. Attention is interesting because just like with getting a like on Instagram or Facebook, getting likes on a dating website also sends you a hit of dopamine. Literally, just like pulling a slot in the casino.
This leads me to my next observation: people only portray the character that they want to present. As with all social media, people lie. I know, shocking and riveting news. However, I didn't realize the extent that people went to create their "character" online. This little nugget was dropped on me while on a cruising on boat on Lake Washington last summer. I watched as these guys with yachts had attractive woman hanging off the deck, posing as if it was a Sports Illustrated photo shoot. And it was. There were guys out there taking full photo shoots of these girls, sometimes with multiple cameras or phones - all to get that perfect picture to look the best. That day I learned about the Boyfriends of Instagram. Dismal times.
This is the extent some people will go to create the image of themselves on their Instagram page, this obviously bleeds over into online dating. What will someone do to create their character? How far will they go? So, while you are at be at home feeling like a poor and fat loser, living the dull existence, everything you are seeing online is a MicroHollywood - it is all bullshit. Same goes for the finding love online, you will commonly never see the real person (at least not for a while), because initially everything is the facade. From the pictures on the profile to the answers provided, most of it is not authentic. You have to upsell your brand to be competitive.
Then when you meet the real person.... And find out they are not what you thought they were because their portrayal was not authentic. Next move, we just leave. Why, vanish? Because there are millions of other options online. We commonly think that it acceptable to just stop talking to someone and never provide a reason. Imagine if we just walked away in the beginning or middle of every meeting or social interaction, we would have no social networks of any value. But, yet we do it in OLD. Manners in dating are out the window. I have heard the horror stories from many ladies on the infamous "dick pic" which still to this day baffles me that some men think this a legitimate strategy to get laid... We wonder why our intimate online connections are not flourishing?...
There is really great saying and core value amongst the Army Green Berets that I think can shift our perspectives on dating in the modern world - "Quality is Better than Quantity". It rests on the critical value human emotional intelligence plays into how relationships are built and work efficiently. In OLD, what we are actually seeking is that instant gratification through unlimited options for partners instead of seeking authentic and quality in a very shortlist of highly-qualified suitors. It is tiresome to keep putting effort in individuals who do not want to put in a good faith effort.
So, with all this rambling, what the fuck is my point about being sad and lonely during the holidays?... This whole year has been an exercise in self-reflection (or at least isolation). Have you maximized all this time alone? Have you done any self-work to improve yourself for your next potential suitor? I realized that after all of my dating failures that the one common denominator was me - I was selling myself short. I was attempting to achieve something authentic through an inauthentic medium. I have been clean from OLD and social media for a few months and I have to tell you, I have acquired close to 3-4 hours of my day back and my mind feels amazing clear and I feel more at peace.
So those of you frustrated and lonely this holiday season with online dating. Put down the apps, it is a drug that is designed to capture your time and attention, not your heart. Spend this time in isolation to really do the hard work of understanding who you are and what you are trying to achieve in life - nobody knows this greatness, but you. If you have problems with who you are, then those problems will not be cured by anybody else or any relationship - you have got to love yourself for someone else to love you.
Stop looking at what other people have and comparing to what you don't have, remember most of it is bullshit and not real. Most of those people aren't on Learjets, they have studios that look like the interior of an private jet, insane. Having gratitude and helping others was a way that I got out of my dating funk - trust me you may be single, but what are all your other blessings?
Be good to yourself, you deserve all of the positive things in the universe and they will come if you do the self-care. You also have let the universe do its work as well. You will always have love, if you love yourself and who you are. And why shouldn't you?!! You are actually pretty fucking awesome!! And finally, turn off the fucking holiday romantic comedies, they are toxic and unrealistic and will make anybody other than Matthew McConaughey feel like shit.
Keep your head up! Merry Christmas!!