You guys are getting 2K early. What's even crazier is today's video is sponsored by 2K. They actually hooked me up with the game. So I'm super pumped to hop in. This year's 2K celebrates 25 years of NBA 2K. And I think the coolest thing is cross-play. So whether you're Xbox or PS5, you can get the smoke. And obviously I'm gonna be doing Wheel of 2K again this year. So the best place for me to start is gonna be my team. And it looks like my team kicks off with a starter kit. I know I technically should be the Detroit Pistons, but I'm bandwagoning jerk today. We're going Mavericks for our starter kit. Hopefully it's got a decent Luca in here to kick this demo. Yo, I've actually never played 2K so early where the my team cards aren't all like dark matter. We get Jason Terry to start out. He's an Evo. Josh Green, Seth Curry, Jaden Hardy. Oh, I got G Will, let's go. You guys know Grant Williams watches Wheel of 2K. So I'm excited to have him on the squad this early. Jaylen McDaniels should have some Mavs Unis here too. Ooh, got a Julius Randall. All right, I get another starter pack as well. What does my starting team gonna look like here? Ooh, there's an Emerald in here. You got Derek Fisher, wait a minute. We got Derek Fisher, Jason Terry. Looks like there's an Amethyst Chris Weber, Amethyst Jason Tatum, Amethyst Clay Thompson. Yo, this is new. Wait, you could directly purchase a player. They've got a Ruby Andre Iguodala right here. Ooh, that new card art looks fired, dude. Look at Iguodala. It wouldn't be an MMG video if I didn't open packs. Each of these 2K Day Deluxe packs contains a guaranteed 2K Day player and four random items. Chris Weber, Jason Tatum, Clay Thompson, Andrew Bogut, Al Horford, Jason Williams. Yo, I want Jason Williams actually. What, chocolate? That would be my favorite pull here. Let's start out strong boys. And this will basically be a pack and play. Whatever squad we assemble here, I'm taking straight into some gameplay. Rex Chapman, call me a casual. I'm not sure who it is.  Hey, our first step, fire.  Is it fat lever? I struggled. Hey, I'll take a week and get Ron Artest. Yo, my first Ruby bow. We got Ron Artest.  That's our best player right now. And Amethyst.  Am I gonna walk out? Wait a minute. Power, don't tell me that's Jason Tatum. Oh, it's Al Horford. Ooh, ooh, it's a new walk out animation. I actually really like this. The fact that you can see the player's silhouette. Oh, dude, that is actually so much cleaner than last year. Hey, and we got an Amethyst pull already, boys. We got Bobby Parrish. What else we got here? Sween Nader, seven out of 10. Ooh, Drill Green, I like Drill Green. High three pointer, high driving dunk. That's all you need. Big baby Davis. Can we go one more Amethyst? We're nine of 10 right here. Kiki Vanduegge. I'm sure that's not how you pronounce it, but Sween Nader again. Our best lineup is Fat Lever. I'm literally Googling it, guys. It's Fat Lever, guys. It's Fat Lever. Boys, look at this, knowing a lot of Fat Lever, Rex Chapman, Ron Artest, Al Horford, Robert Parrish. I'm also gonna try out this Deal of the Day thing here. I can just outright purchase Andre Iguodal. I kinda want him on this squad too. All right, boys, our first ever game of 2K24. My team unlimited. This is our starting lineup. Let's go. Ooh, Kobe, Danny Ainge, Patterson, Jameson, and a, ooh, that Yannis looks good. And this is actually our first look at cross play, because my opponent is definitely not on Xbox. Danny Ainge up top. Let's see it, boys. Dude, this arena is packed, and Yannis is looking big. That Amethyst Al Horford posted up, bodying him down there. Get big. Ooh, wait a minute. Is that a meter on my layup right there? I gotta keep an eye out for that. All right, we'll go up to Al Horford. Down in, one more pass. Beautiful basketball. I gotta mess with my camera. Actually, no, I'm gonna keep it. This isn't the camera I normally use. Dude, Yannis is a giant. He's gonna be an issue. Ron Artest, greened our first ever layup. Let's go, baby. Wait, that was not my first ever layup. That was my second. Editing magic, you'll never know.  Uh-oh, he's bringing Yannis on the pick and roll. I really don't like that. Good defense, boys. Four, three, great, A, slam. Good work. Yes, sir. Cross left. Oh, he's gonna let me. He's gonna let me. I don't know about releases yet. I'm too used to end game dark matters, but that's okay. I'm gonna drill a three today. I'll tell you that. Ooh, hand down, man down. Don't you dare. Don't you give me a rage quit this early. I just downloaded the game. All right, let's get the young buck Chapman out here. Somebody should be open. Easy screen, Al Horford, ooh. Take the lead. My eyes got to adjust to that scoreboard though. I'm so used to looking at the scoreboard in the bottom right. Yup, stay up on him. Little step back. Brick, A, A, A. Our first ever game of 2K24, my team is a rage quit. And what's in the vault? What's in the vault for our very first W? Camo, A, 500, I'll take it. Good start, boys. Triple threat online first game. Let's see if we have as much luck. I'll take this. Chauncey Billups, Louis Scola, and Lamar Odom. It's actually pretty fair. I got a little overall advantage on him, so I can't lose. Oh dude, I got a mess of my camera. What do I run usually? I go like six, eight, right? Let's go five, eight this year. Let's try this. Oh, that'd be cheesy. I want to wait for him to get back on defense. There we go. Bring me the screen. Ignore it. Yeah, Iguodala. Dude, what does Kellerman say? He says like laser beam pointed at Earth. I want Iguodala. The Martians have the death beam pointed at Earth. You better hit it. I want Iguodala. And there I go. Letting Chauncey Billups get one. Dude, let's try the dunk meter. I assume dunk meter is still a feature. Let's bring this screen. Let's take it. Oh, very first dunk, I always did it. Artes, do you want a shot? Oh, I'm actually so, oh good D, good D, good D. Hey, if we don't need it, don't use it. Nice layup, Horford. Yeah, that window is tough though. If you want to get the big poster slam on somebody, you're going to have to time it right. And obviously so far I have not. Louis Scola's got a mismatch, but I don't know, I think we could hold him here.  Let's go. Iguodala's a stud, man. Oh, good. Down low, up top. Am I going to start out 2K24, 2-0? I think I might. Graphics are beautiful. Go. Our first three. You know, I don't know what Ron Artes' three pointer is, but I don't think I should be shooting that. Is that going to stop me from shooting it? Pump fake. Oh my goodness. Lamarroda, you're lost in the sauce up there, buddy. Come on. No way, no way you quit. Dude, it's even better. His name is New York Gigi and he's about to quit. Don't you do it. Shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot. We got there late. Yes, good close out. I really want to hit a three now. Let's go for a mid-range Iguodala. Ooh, my jumpers are absolute bricks right now. I'm pretty much a layup dunk machine. Wait, he greened that.  I'm going to take another. I really want to hit a midi. I'm so trash with these midis right now. Granted, I do have the meter on. And I know if I turn that meter off, I'll probably have a little better chances to be making some of these. I can't sell the lead trying to hit these midranges now. Hey, there we go, boys. First green. First mid-range green. That certainly counts more than a layup. But 10-4, Lamarroda's going to take one. All right, we need to lock back in. Can't lose this game now. He's off-balling. Oh, shh. Guys, that was supposed to be a pass to X. X was also the shoot button, unfortunately. Guys, wait, no, I can't sell this game. I had him. Oh, pass out of shot. Ow, I'm selling.  Oh, that's fine. You're in no way. We like that. We like that shot. Up to our test, down low. Take the dunk. Good, stay high. No, Phillips. Bricks gets his own board. Luis Scola three. Lamarroda helps side. Damn. 10-12. Oh, no. Turn the ball over. Wait a minute, this game's about to be so close. I'm so surprised he didn't shoot that Luis Scola. Good defense. Let's go. Run the court, boys. Take it easy, Al Horford. Ooh, a shooting foul. I don't know, you could do that. Alrighty. It'll make him any easier than that, gentlemen. I guess I'm trying to rip this inbound. It does not work. Oh, no. Oh, no. Dude, this game is actually so close. Bring the screen. Post some up, Horford. No, Luis Scola. Chill out. Good defense. No way. Let's go, our test. 16-12, huge. My on-ball defense is weak. I can tell you that right now. Rip that ball. No, what are you doing, Chauncey? Chauncey, what are you doing? Good defense. Good defense. No. What happens if he gets an end? Does he get three points? Stay on him, Al. Stay high, Al Horford. Good defense. Oh. Who do we got? Up to Iguodala. Bad pass. In the paint. Ooh, missed layup. Good defense. Iguodala. Midi. My naked. Ow, I'm a brick. That's great defense, though. Ooh, Luis Scola's a dog. Got him. Got him. Let's go, Iguodala. We're so close to the win. 18-14. I'm gonna off-ball. I'm gonna take Luis Scola. This on-ball defense is difficult. Great defense. Switched out at the right time. Look at the true cheeser I am. No. Stop it, Phillip. Good defense. Where are we? Let's go, Al Horford. Al Horford, three. I did not green that three. That's my favorite thing about that. I was very close, but I don't think I'd perfectly green that. Give me some MT. Give me a little more MT. Oh, no, did I just use all my good luck? I don't want to use it right now, man. Although that's actually fire. I think I just got a diamond shoe. Shout out, Al Horford, for drilling that three. What is this three-pointer? It's gotta be pretty good. 83 overall three-pointer. Me drilled that right there. That's my boy. All right, y'all. Hey, I hope you guys enjoyed Absolublast. I can't wait to kick off Wheel of 2K. That will be later in the season, but I also want to give a massive shout out to 2K for sponsoring this video. It is so cool that they hooked me up with 2K. That's an awesome opportunity. I hope you guys enjoyed. I'm excited to post some more later on in the season, and I'll see you guys in the next video. Peace.


A rational argument is the exchange of evidence-based reasons that are designed to influence an audience. Rational argumentation is the capacity to give reasons, to connect the claims that one makes to the justification for making those claims. The reasons offered within an argument are called premises, and the proposition that the premises are offered for is called the conclusion. Within arguments, people construct statements that can be used to support a conclusion on a matter that is uncertain or yet to be decided, hoping to influence others to adhere to their position. When people speak to each other or to a group, they make certain claims, they make statements and construct a case that they believe in and that they would like for others to also believe in. A rational argument is a combination of logic, dialect and rhetoric. Arguments involve elements of logic in that they require the use of logic in the connection of evidence to the claims that are being made through inference. Thus, arguments have a structure that is studied within logic. Rational arguments are a dialectic exchange in that arguments are conducted between people with different opinions who exchange ideas in a process of discovering and testing knowledge through questions and answers. Arguments contain elements of rhetoric in the classical sense, where it means the study of how messages influence people. As it focuses on the development and communication of knowledge between speakers and listeners. As we've talked about before, rational arguments can be seen as a subset of all types of arguments, in which case they can be contrasted with non-rational arguments, which are not based upon objective reasons given, instead being based upon the subjective motives and instincts of the individuals involved. Non-rational arguments may be seen as the product of motivated reasoning on the behalf of one or more of the individuals engaged in the argument. Insofar as the individual refuses or is unable to revise or change their opinion in the light of new, relevant information or more coherent logic, the argument is dogmatic and cannot be resolved through reasoned arguments. In such a case the argument may resort to various forms of effective exchange or a resolution may well be unattainable. Thus rational arguments require a set of preconditions before the process can be engaged in. The cases presented by the individuals have to be derived from their objective reasons given, instead of being rationalized from their instinctive beliefs. In a rational argument members have to be willing to change their arguments when new information or a better argument is presented. Reasoned arguments cannot be conducted in the face of dogma, where dogma is a belief or set of beliefs that is accepted by a member or group without being open to question or doubt through reason. Pre-condition to rational argument is that questions are open to and decided by reason alone. Members engaged in a rational argument hold defeasible cases, where defeasible means that they are open in principle to revision. Reasoned argument provides an objective process for a resolving disputes without resort to force or manipulation in that it simply defines a set of standards that all members must follow in order to try and derive a combined outcome. The term dialectics in the general sense refers to the development of knowledge through questions and answers. The classical example of this would be the dialogues of Plato where Socrates encounters an interlocker and the person states a view. Socrates then asks a series of questions and through the exchange of questions and answers the individual's view is tested, elaborated or clarified. Another good example of a dialectic process could be seen in a court of law, where cross-examination is conducted with a series of questions asked and answers given to try and figure out what is true of the case. Rational argument is a form of dialectic process in that the participants in an argument hold mutually exclusive views. They believe that the claims they make cannot both be true in some way and they seek to find a combined resolution through a collective process of reasoning, which is the argument. Members are not prepared to simply remain with the differences in their perspectives but wish to resolve the issue at hand. They want to come to a common understanding of some kind. In this process members give over their own reasons but are also importantly open to being influenced by others in trying to reach some consensus. The degree of effectiveness to any given argument is often a function of the degree of understanding to the principles and structure that underlie the process. A rational argument is a set of statements to support a conclusion. It starts with a set of premises and then derives a set of conclusions based upon those. As such, arguments have a basic structure to them in that they consist of evidence given, a process of inference used to reach a claim that seeks the adherence of an audience. Reasons are the justification that we give for our claims. Our justifications are not absolute proofs because all of the matters that are being debated are in some way uncertain. Things may depend on some value judgment or they may relate to the unknown future thus we try to justify our claims by giving reasons for them. In an argument we're making a leap from the known to the unknown and the audience is being asked to accept the justification for this. That is to say the reasons given. We have to reach some conclusion and the audience will give their adherence to whoever has the best case to make. A claim is justified if it would be accepted by a critical listener. For example, the process of generating new scientific knowledge often operates in this way, where someone comes up with a hypothesis and the other scientists try to disprove it. Scientists in the lab work as critical questioners of the ideas presented by the theoretical scientists. Scientists remain skeptical about Einstein's special theory of relativity until experiments have been conducted to verify that light did in fact bend around large bodies of matter. If the premise of an argument or the logic used to draw the inference are inaccurate then the conclusion will be likewise inaccurate. Arguments are only as good as the premises that they are founded on and the logic used to draw the conclusion. Often confusion lies in the fact that people are not clear about the premises or logical process in the argument. A hidden premise is a fact or assumption that supports the argument that is not manifest to us. In everyday life the arguments we normally encounter are often arguments where important assumptions are not made explicit. Identifying these hidden assumptions is an important part of being a critical thinker. Likewise, some premises are assumptions that is to say they are not known to be established facts and it is important to make explicit when that is the case. The conclusion of an argument can be true or false meaning it is in some way in line with an objective reality. However, arguments themselves are not true or false. They are simply valid or invalid depending on the logic being used. The term sound refers to the entire argument. An argument is sound when all of the premises are true and its logic is valid. Arguments are expressed to an audience and when all is said and done the success of an argument depends on the ascent of that audience. Ascent means adhering to a claim based upon the reasons given for it. This means the audience accepts the grounds that are given, the justification that is presented and the connection that is made between these justifications and the claim. Argumentation is then one of the ways that we seek to persuade others and reach common consensus without resorting to force, emotional manipulation or other means. A focus on this aspect of argumentation is called rhetoric. The classical understanding of rhetoric is as a study of how messages influence people. It focuses on the development and communication of knowledge between speakers and listeners. Rhetoric in its basic form is about the effective presentation of an argument to a particular audience where one holds in mind the audience and crafts wants words and message to make them most relevant to that particular audience. In its highest form rhetoric is about the art or skill of speaking or writing formally and effectively, especially as a way to persuade or influence other people. Today this term rhetoric has been significantly denigrated in status in no small part due to contemporary media politics and mass marketing as it has come to mean something more like language that is intended to influence people and that may not be honest or reasonable. However a focus on audience and presentation is always a consideration within any argument and should not be inherently given negative connotations.


This 2020 Ram 2500 Crew Cab Short Box Big Horn Night Edition is stock number 12100Z. We're here at Summit Automotive in Fond du Lac, Wisconsin near new and used Ram and heavy duty truck headquarters. This 2020 Ram 2500 has the 6.4 liter V8 Hemi engine. It has been fully safety and inspected by our service shop has a fresh oil and filter change. All the fluids have been checked and topped off and this truck is 100% ready to go. Diamond black metallic is the color we shoot all of our videos in 1080p 60 frames per second. So if you have HD capabilities on your computer tablet smartphone or television turn them on right now because it is definitely your best way to check out the quality and condition of the truck before seeing it in person. And if you like the video and want to subscribe to our YouTube channel where we do videos of our new and used inventory each and every day here at Summit Auto and the lower right hand part of the screen is a subscribe button. Click that and then click the bell notifications and you'll get updated every day we do videos here at Summit Auto. Comes with the 20 inch painted alloy rims and it has Firestone TransForce AT Tyres. These are LT28560R20s and they have probably about 70-80% of the tread left on them maybe even a little bit more. Framing underbody is in excellent shape. Front fender is in very nice condition as well. You get the blacked out headlight bezels part of that night edition. Factory fog lights front bumper is in excellent shape I didn't see any dents, dings, scuffs or anything like that. That does have the front bumper parking sensors. The hood is in very nice condition as well. No dents or dings. And as you come around to the passenger side, front fender on this side looks really good and the passenger side rim no scuffs or scrapes. I always like showing on these metallic finish trucks the metal flake in them so Diamond Black has just a little bit less metal flake than some of them but when it gets out in the sun it's really a cool color it's got a lot of sparkle to it. And as you go down this side the truck take note of how clean the body is, how reflective and mirror like that paint is. We take these HD videos so if you are far away or even if you're close by and just cannot make the trip down but you're still interested in purchasing the vehicle you can see the truck, hear the truck and of confidence in what you're looking at before you even get here so when you do get here there's absolutely no surprises and you can make a smart and informed buying decision from the comfort of your own home. Very nice down that side. This back rim is in excellent shape as well and the back tires have just as much tread as the front tires, maybe even a little bit more. Framing underbody looks really good and the frame under here and exhaust looks good as well. More rockers all look really good and it comes with a nice set of painted step bars. Coming around to the back you'll notice you get the LED tail lamps, the painted rear bumper, full towing package which includes a receiver hitch four pin and seven pin wiring. You do get the parking sensors in the back as well. Notice you get the blacked out big horn ram and four by four logo on there. This one has a gator soft tonneau cover, no rips or tears on that, has a gooseneck hitch and the bed is in really nice shape. You get LED bed lighting back here as well and other than a little bit of dust, it's in really nice clean condition and that shuts nice and solidly. Coming around to the driver's side just as clean as that passenger's side, no denser dings on the rear box and this back room is in excellent condition as well. Driver's side doors look really good, does come with the heated fold out tow mirrors, they have blind spot monitoring, directional signals, they fold up like so, they also fold in. Inside the big horn package gives you the dark charcoal and black cloth interior, there are no rips, there are no tears on the seats, very nice condition.  I always like showing both sides so that you know that both sides are working properly. Cool hop inside, turn the ignition on and then check out the miles and the radio and everything that the interior has to offer. You can see that this truck has 5,611 miles, you do get a digital speedometer right there, compass display, battery voltage and then your oil temperature there as well, range to empty and you can change those corners to read pretty much whatever you want as far as options. Has the heated leather wrapped steering wheel, this one has adaptive cruise control, normal cruise controls, gear selector and then your Bluetooth and information center controls on the left, audio controls in the back, push button start, has the turn dial 8 speed automatic transmission, push button 4 wheel drive, this one comes with the 8.4 4C radio AM FM and Sirius XM radio capabilities on here, you can do your controls here including your backup camera which you'll notice is now HD and then you can zoom in right over that receiver hitch so that you can get hooked up to your boat camper or trailer the first time every time. You can do your heated seats, heated steering wheels there as well, you also have all your different apps including projection manager where you can project your cell phone to the screen via Android Auto or Apple CarPlay so if you have a navigation system on your cell phone projected to the screen and then it's like you have nav on there even though this radio does not come from the factory with nav. We actually did a demo on Android Auto if you want to check that out it's in the upper right hand part of the screen on how that system works.  Down here you get two USBs, two USB C's and an AUX jack, spot to hold your cell phone and this one does have the keyless entry with remote start. Passengers side floor mat and seat are in excellent condition, no rips or tears on there, I'll turn the light on, get a little bit of light in here, these windows are tinted a little bit, the headliner is in very nice clean condition, you get map lights up there, auto dimming mirror and the home link buttons for your garage door security systems and lighting systems. We'll take a quick look at the back seats and then we'll start it up and then check out under the hood. Back seats are just as clean as the front seats, no rips, no tears back here it does have the latch child safety system for any child car seats that you may have. Next glass rear window with the built-in rear defrost, seats are in great condition, smells very clean inside this truck, I don't think it's ever been smoked in, you do get a load floor which is really nice if you've got muddy boots or tools, put them on there, you're not going to wreck your nice seats, otherwise if you've got pets they can put both sides down and you've got a nice flat place for them to lay, you also have storage underneath there, receiver hitch reducer, all weather floor mat back here as well and you do get two in-floor storage bins, one on the driver's side, one on the passenger's side, they have removable containers for easy cleaning, you can put ice and drinks in there, have too many coolers or you can just store whatever you want back there, have two extra storage areas, side curtain airbags on this truck. We'll start it up, take a look under the hood, child safety locks on the back doors and very, very nice and clean. Starts right up, no check engine lights or anything like that. I would personally like to thank you for checking out the video today and hopefully from this HD video you will have been able to verify just how clean this truck is all the way around inside and out. Under the hood we have a 6.4 liter V8 Hemi engine, engine bay is very clean, runs very smooth. Once again this truck has been fully safe and inspected by our service shop, has a fresh oil and filter change, all the fluids have been checked and topped off and this truck is 100% ready to go, there's your mission sticker. It's going to have all the remaining factory warranty on it, bumper to bumper and powertrain and I would highly recommend this truck from a quality and condition standpoint and to see more pictures of this truck or one of our other 450 new and used cars, trucks, SUVs, minivans, Wranglers, half tons, three quarter tons, one tons, you name it we got it go to that website right there www.SummitAuto.com full pictures and descriptions of every single vehicle from two locations, all at www.SummitAuto.com and if you'd like to check out more HD videos you can go to www.YouTube.com slash www.SummitAuto.com, remember to like, subscribe and share on this vehicle and all the vehicles that you see there, click the bell notifications, you'll get updated every single day we do videos here at Summit Auto. In fact in a second you will see a link to subscribe to our YouTube channel on the upper left, a link to more Ram 2500 truck videos like this one on the upper right, a link to this vehicle on our website on the lower left and a link to one of our latest YouTube videos in the lower right, click those, check us out and we're super excited to help you with this Ultra Clean 2020 Ram 2500 Crew Cab Short Box, Big Horn Night Edition and Diamond Black Metallic, thanks again for checking out the video.


This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information and to find out how you can volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Spider by Hans Heinz Ewers When the student of medicine, Richard Bracquemont, decided to move into room number seven of the small hotel Stevens, Rue Alfred Stevens Paris VI, three persons had already hanged themselves from the crossbar of the window in that room on successive Fridays. The first was a Swiss traveling salesman. They found his corpse on Saturday evening. The doctor determined that the death must have occurred between five and six o'clock on Friday afternoon. The corpse hung on a strong hook that had been driven into the window's crossbar to serve as a hanger for articles of clothing. The window was closed and the dead man had used the curtain cord as a noose. Since the window was very low he hung with his knees practically touching the floor, a sign of the great discipline the suicide must have exercised in carrying out his design. Later it was learned that he was a married man, a father. He had been a man of continually happy disposition, a man who had achieved a secure place in life. There was not one written word to be found that would have shed light on his suicide, not even a will. Furthermore, none of his acquaintances could recall hearing anything at all from him that would have permitted anyone to predict his end. The second case was not much different. The artist, Carl Krause, a high-wire cyclist in the nearby Medrano Circus, moved into room number seven two days later. When he did not show up at Friday's performance the director sent an employee to the hotel. There he found Krause in the unlocked room hanging from the window crossbar in circumstances exactly like those of the previous suicide. This death was as perplexing as the first. Krause was popular. He earned a very high salary and had appeared to enjoy life at its fullest. Once again there was no suicide note, no sinister hints. Krause's sole survivor was his mother to whom the son had regularly sent three hundred marks on the first of the month. For Madame Dubonaise, the owner of the small, cheap guest house whose clientele was composed almost completely of employees in a nearby Montmartre to Vaudeville Theatre, this second curious death in the same room had very unpleasant consequences. Already several of her guests had moved out and other regular clients had not come back. She appealed for help to her personal friend, the Inspector of Police of the Ninth Precinct, who assured her that he would do everything in his power to help her. He pushed zealously ahead not only with the investigation into the grounds of the suicides of the two guests, but he also placed an officer in the mysterious room. This man, Charles-Maria Chomier, actually volunteered for the task. Chomier was an old marsuant, a marine sergeant with eleven years of service who had lain so many nights at posts in Tonkin and Anam and had greeted so many stealthily creeping river pirates with a shot from his rifle that he seemed ideally suited to encounter the ghost that everyone on Rue Alfred Stevens was talking about. From then on, each morning and each evening, Chomier paid a brief visit to the police station to make his report, which, for the first few days, consisted only of his statement that he had not noticed anything unusual. On Wednesday evening, however, he hinted that he had found a clue. Press to say more, he asked to be allowed more time before making any comment, since he was not sure that what he had discovered had any relationship to the two deaths and he was afraid he might say something that would make him look foolish. On Thursday, his behavior seemed a bit uncertain, but his mood was noticeably more serious. Still, he had nothing to report. On Friday morning, he came in very excited and spoke half humorously, half seriously, of the strangely attractive power that his window had. He would not elaborate this notion and said that, in any case, it had nothing to do with the suicides and that it would be ridiculous of him to say more. When, on that same Friday, he failed to make his regular evening report, someone went to his room and found him hanging from the crossbar of the window. All the circumstances down to the minutest detail were the same here as in the previous cases. Chomier's legs dragged along the ground the curtain-court had been used for a noose. The window was closed, the door to the room had not been locked, and the death had occurred at six o'clock. The dead man's mouth was wide open and his tongue protruded from it. Chomier's death, the third in as many weeks in room number seven, had the following consequences. All the guests, with the exception of a German high school teacher in room number sixteen, moved out. The teacher took advantage of the occasion to have his rent reduced by a third. The next day, Mary Garden, the famous opera-comique singer, drove up to the Hotel Stevens and paid two hundred francs for the red curtain-court, saying it would bring her luck. The story, small consolation for Madame Dubonnet, got into the papers. If these events had occurred in summer in July or August, Madame Dubonnet would have secured three times that price for her chord. But as it was in the middle of a troubled year, with elections, disorders in the Balkans, bank crashes in New York, the visit of the King and Queen of England, the result was that the affair, Rue Alfred Stevens, was talked of less than it deserved to be. As for the newspaper accounts, they were brief, being essentially the police reports, word for word. These reports were all that Richard Brackamal, the medical student, knew of the matter. There was one detail about which he knew nothing because neither the police inspector nor any of the eyewitnesses had mentioned it to the press. It was only later, after what happened to the medical student, that anyone remembered that when the police removed Sergeant Charles Maria Chomier's body from the window cross-bar, a large black spider crawled from the dead man's open mouth. A hotel porter flicked it away, exclaiming, Ugg, another of those damned creatures. When in later investigations, which concerned themselves mostly Brackamal, the servant was interrogated, he said that he had seen a similar spider crawling on the Swiss traveling salesman's shoulder when his body was removed from the window cross-bar. But Richard Brackamal knew nothing of all this. It was more than two weeks after the last suicide that Brackamal moved into the room. It was a Sunday. Brackamal conscientiously recorded everything that happened to him in his journal. That journal now follows. Monday, February 28th. I moved in yesterday evening. I unpacked my two wicker suitcases and straightened the room a little. Then I went to bed. I slept so soundly that it was nine o'clock the next morning before a knock at my door woke me. It was my hostess bringing me breakfast herself. One could read her concern for me in the eggs, the bacon, and the superb café au lait she brought me. I washed and dressed, then smoked a pipe as I watched the servant make up the room. So here I am. I know well that the situation may prove dangerous, but I think I may be just the one to solve the problem. If, once upon a time, Paris was worth a mass, conquest comes at dearer rate these days, it is well worth my life pour ainsi be l'enjeu. I have at least one chance to win, and I mean to risk it. As it is, I'm not the only one who's had this notion. Twenty-seven people have tried for access to the room. Some went to the police. Some went directly to the hotel owner. There were even three women among the candidates. There was plenty of competition. No doubt the others are poor devils like me. And yet it was I who was chosen. Why? Because I was the only one who hinted that I had some plan or the semblance of a plan. Naturally I was bluffing. These journal entries are intended for the police. I must say that it amuses me to tell those gentlemen how neatly I fooled them. If the inspector has any sense, he'll say, hmm, this Brachemal is just the man we need. In any case, it doesn't matter what he'll say. The point is, I'm here now, and to take it as a good sign that I've begun my task by bamboozling the police. I had gone first to Madame Dubonnet, and it was she who sent me to the police. They put me off for a whole week as they put off my rivals as well. Most of them gave up in disgust having something better to do than hang around the musty squad room. The inspector was beginning to get irritated at my tenacity. At last he told me I was wasting my time, that the police had no use for bungling amateurs. Ah, if you only had a plan, then on the spot I announced that I had such a plan, though naturally I had no such thing. Still I hinted that my plan was brilliant but dangerous, that it might lead to the same end as that which had overtaken the police officer, Chomier. But I'd promised to describe it to him and give me his word that he would personally put it into effect. He made excuses claiming he was too busy, but when he asked me to give him at least a hint of my plan, I saw that I had piqued his interest.  God alone knows where it all came from. I told him that six o'clock of a Friday is an occult hour. It is the last hour of the Jewish week, the hour when Christ disappeared from his tomb and descended into hell. That he would do well to remember that the three suicides had taken place at approximately that hour. That was all I could tell him just then, I said, but I pointed him to the revelations of St. John. The inspector assumed the look of a man who understood all that I had been saying, and then he asked me to come back that evening. I returned precisely on time and noted a copy of the New Testament on the inspector's desk. I had, in the meantime, been at the revelations myself without ever having understood a syllable. Perhaps the inspector was cleverer than I. Very politely, nay, deferentially, he let me know that, despite my extremely vague intimations, he believed he grasped my line of thought and was ready to expedite my plan in every way. And here I must acknowledge that he has indeed been tremendously helpful. It was he who made the arrangement with the owner that I was to have anything I needed so long as I stayed in the room. The inspector gave me a pistol and a police whistle, and he ordered officers on the beat to pass through the rue off at Stevens as often as possible and to watch my window for any signal. Most important of all, he had a desk telephone installed which connects directly with the police station. Since the station is only four minutes away, I see no reason to be afraid. Wednesday, March 1st. Nothing has happened, not yesterday, not today. Madame Dubonnet brought a new curtain cord from another room. The rooms are mostly empty, of course. Madame Dubonnet takes every opportunity to visit me, and each time she brings something with her. I've asked her to tell me again everything that happened here. But I have learned nothing new. She has her own opinion of the suicides. Her view is that the musical artist, Krause, killed himself because of an unhappy love affair. During the last year that Krause lived in the hotel, a young woman had made frequent visits to him. These visits had stopped just before his death. As for the Swiss gentleman, Madame Dubonnet confessed herself baffled. On the other hand, the death of the policeman was easy to explain. He had killed himself just to annoy her. These are sad enough explanations, to be sure. But I let her babble on to take the edge off my boredom. Thursday, March 3rd. Still nothing. The inspector calls twice a day. Each time I tell him that all is well. Apparently these words do not reassure him. I have taken out my medical books and I study, so that my self-imposed confinement will have some purpose. Friday, March 4th. I ate uncommonly well at noon. The landlady brought me half a bottle of champagne. It seemed a great meal for a condemned man. Madame Dubonnet looked at me as if I were already three-quarters dead. As she was leaving, she begged me tearfully to come with her, fearing no doubt that I would hang myself just to annoy her. I studied the curtain-cord once again. Would I hang myself with it? Certainly I felt little desire to. The cord is stiff and rough. Not the sort of cord one makes a noose of. One would need to be truly determined before one could imitate the others. I am seated now at my table, at my left the telephone, at my right the revolver. I am not frightened, but I am curious. Six o'clock the same evening. Nothing has happened. I was about to add, unfortunately, the fatal hour has come and has gone like any six o'clock on any evening. I won't hide the fact that I occasionally felt a certain impulse to go to the window, but for a quite different reason than one might imagine. The inspector called me at least ten times between five and six o'clock. He was as impatient as I was. Madame Dubonaise, on the other hand, is happy. A week has passed without someone in number seven hanging himself. Marvelous. Monday, March 7. I have a growing conviction that I will learn nothing, that the previous suicides are related to the circumstances surrounding the lives of the three men. I have asked the inspector to investigate the cases further, convinced that someone will find their motivations. As for me, I hope to stay here as long as possible. I may not conquer Paris here, but I live very well, and I'm fattening up nicely. I'm also studying hard, and I'm making real progress. There is another reason, too, that keeps me here. Wednesday, March 9. So, I have taken one step more. Claremanda. I haven't yet said anything about Claremanda. It is she who is my third reason for staying here. She is also the reason I was tempted to go to the window during the fateful hour last Friday, but, of course, not to hang myself. Claremanda. Why do I call her that? I have no idea what her name is, but it ought to be Claremanda. When I finally ask her name, I'm sure it will turn out to be Claremanda. I noticed her almost at once. In the very first days, she lives across the narrow street, and her window looks right into mine. She sits there behind her curtains. I ought to say that she noticed me before I saw her, and that she was obviously interested in me. And no wonder, the whole neighborhood knows I am here, and why. Madame Dubonnet has seen to that. I am not of a particularly amorous disposition. In fact, my relations with women have been rather meager. When one comes from Verdun to Paris to study medicine and has hardly money enough for three meals a day, one has something else to think about besides love. I am then not very experienced with women, and I may have begun my adventure with her stupidly. Never mind, it's exciting, just the same. At first, the idea of establishing some relationship with her simply did not occur to me. It was only that, since I was here to make observations, and since there was nothing in the room to observe, I thought I might as well observe my neighbor, openly, professionally. Anyhow, one can't sit all day long just reading. Claremanda, I have concluded, lives alone in the small flat across the way. The flat has three windows, but she sits only before the window that looks into mine. She sits there, spinning an old-fashioned spindle, such as my grandmother inherited from a great aunt. I had no idea anyone still used such spindles. Claremanda's spindle is a lovely object. It appears to be made of ivory, and the thread she spins is of exceptional fineness. She works all day behind her curtains and stops spinning only as the sun goes down. Since darkness comes abruptly here in this narrow street, and in this season of fogs, Claremanda disappears from her place at five o'clock each evening. I have never seen a light in her flat. What does Claremanda look like? I'm not quite sure.  Her nose is short and finely shaped with delicate nostrils that seem to quiver. Her lips, too, are pale, and when she smiles it seems that her small teeth are as keen as those of some beast of prey. Her eyelashes are long and dark, and her huge dark eyes have an intense glow. I guess all these details more than I know them. It is hard to see clearly through the curtains. Something else.  No doubt to protect her hands from the effects of her work. It is a curious sight her delicate hands moving perpetually, swiftly grasping the thread, pulling it, releasing it, taking it up again, as if one were watching the indefatigable motions of an insect. Our relationship, for the moment, still very superficial, though it feels deeper. It begun with a sudden exchange of glances in which each of us noted the other. I must have pleased her because one day she studied me a while longer than smiled tentatively, naturally I smiled back. In this fashion two days went by each of us smiling more frequently with the passage of time. Yet something kept me from greeting her directly. Until today. This afternoon I did it and Clarimondo returned my greeting. It was done subtly enough to be sure. But I saw her nod. Thursday, March 10th. Yesterday I sat for a long time over my books though I can't truthfully say that I studied much. I built castles in the air and dreamed of Clarimondo. I slept fitfully. This morning when I approached my window Clarimondo was already in her place. I waved and she nodded back. She laughed and studied me for a long time. I tried to read but I felt much too uneasy. Instead I sat down at my window and gazed at Clarimondo. She too had laid her work aside. Her hands were folded in her lap. I drew my curtain wider with the curtain cord so that I might see better. At the same moment Clarimondo did the same with the curtains at her window. We exchanged smiles. We must have spent a full hour gazing at each other. Finally she took up her spinning. Saturday, March 12th. The days pass. I eat and drink. I sit at the desk. I light my pipe. I look down at my book but I don't read a word though I try again and again. Then I go to the window where I waved to Clarimondo. She nods. We smile. We stare at each other for hours. Yesterday afternoon at six o'clock I grew anxious. The twilight came early bringing with it something like anguish. I sat at my desk. I waited until I was invaded by an irresistible need to go to the window. Clarimondo. I sprang up and stood beside the curtain where it seemed to me I had never been able to see so clearly though it was already dark. Clarimondo was spinning but her eyes looked into mine. I felt myself strangely contented even as I experienced a light sensation of fear. The telephone rang.  I was furious. This morning the inspector and Madame Dubonnais visited me. She's enchanted with how things are going. I've now lived for two weeks in room number seven. The inspector, however, does not feel he is getting results. I hinted mysteriously that I was on the trail of something most unusual. The jackass took me at my word and fulfilled my dearest wish. I've been allowed to stay in the room for another week. God knows it isn't Madame Dubonnais cooking or the wine cellar that keeps me here. How quickly one can be sated with such things. No. I want to stay because of the window Madame Dubonnais fears and hates. The beloved window that shows me Clarimonda. I have stared out of my window trying to discover whether she ever leaves her room, but I've never seen her set foot on the street. As for me I have a large comfortable armchair and a green shade over the lamp whose glow envelops me in warmth. The inspector has left me with a huge packet of fine tobacco and yet I cannot work. I read two or three pages only to discover that I haven't understood a word. My eyes see the letters, but my brain refuses to make any sense of them. Absurd. As if my brain were posted, no trespassing. It is as if there were no room in my head for any other thought than the one. Clarimonda. I push my books away. I lean back deeply into my chair. I dream. Sunday, March 13th. This morning I watched a tiny drama while the servant was tidying my room. I was strolling in the corridor when I paused before a small window in which a large garden spider had her web. Madame Dibonné will not have it removed because she believes spiders bring luck and she's had enough misfortunes in her house lately. Today I saw a much smaller spider, a male, moving across the strong threads toward the middle of the web. But when his movements alerted the female he drew back shyly to the edge of the web from which he made a second attempt to cross it. Finally the female in the middle appeared attentive to his wooing and stopped moving. The male tugged at a strand gently then more strongly till the whole web shook. The female stayed motionless. The male moved quickly forward and the female received him quietly, calmly, giving herself over completely to his embraces. For a long minute they hung together motionless at the center of the huge web. Then I saw the male slowly extricating himself, one leg over the other. It was as if he wanted tactfully to leave his companion alone in the dream of love. When he started away the female, overwhelmed by a wildlife, was after him, hunting him ruthlessly. The male let himself drop from a thread. The female followed in for a while the lovers hung there, imitating a piece of art. Then they fell to the window sill where the male, summoning all his strength, tried again to escape. Too late. The female already had him in her powerful grip and was carrying him back to the center of the web. There, the place that had just served as the couch and the severest embraces took on quite another aspect. The lover wriggled trying to escape from the female's wild embrace, but she was too much for him. It was not long before she had wrapped him completely in her thread, and he was helpless. Then she dug her sharp pincers into his body and sucked full drops of her young lover's blood. Finally she detached herself from the pitiful and unrecognizable shell of his body and threw it out of her web. So that is what love is like among these creatures. Well, for me, that I am not a spider. Monday, March 14th. I don't look at my books any longer. I spend my days at the window. When it is dark, Clarimanda is no longer there. But if I close my eyes, I continue to see her. This journal has become something other than I intended. I've spoken to Madame Dubonnais about the inspector, about spiders, and about Clarimanda. But I've said nothing about the discoveries I undertook to make. It can't be helped. Tuesday, March 15th. We have invented a strange game, Clarimanda and I. We play it all day long. I greet her, then she greets me. Then I tap my fingers on the window panes. The moment she sees me doing that, she too begins tapping. I wave to her, she waves back. I move my lips as if speaking to her, she does the same. I run my hand through my sleep-disheveled hair and instantly her hand is at her forehead. It is a child's game and we both laugh over it. Actually she doesn't laugh, she only smiles a gently contained smile. And I smile back in the same way. The game is not as trivial as it seems.  That would weary us both. Rather, we are communicating with each other. Sometimes telepathically it would seem since Clarimanda follows my movements instantaneously almost before she has had time to see them. I find myself inventing new movements or new combinations of movements, but each time she repeats them with disconcerting speed. Sometimes I change the order of the movements to surprise her, making a whole series of gestures as rapidly as possible. Or I leave out some motions and weave in others the way children play Simon says. What is amazing is that Clarimanda never once makes a mistake, no matter how quickly I change gestures. That's how I spend my days, but never for a moment do I feel that I'm killing time. It seems on the contrary that never in my life have I been better occupied. Wednesday, March 16th. Isn't it strange that it hasn't occurred to me to put my relationship with Clarimanda on a more serious basis than these endless games? Last night I thought about this. I can, of course, put on my head and coat, walk down two flights of stairs, take five steps across the street and take two flights to her door, which is marked with a small sign that says Clarimanda. Clarimanda what? I don't know. Something. Then I can knock and... Up to this point I imagine everything very clearly, but I cannot see what would happen next. I know that the door opens, but then I stand before it looking into a dark void. Clarimanda doesn't come. Nothing comes. Nothing is there. Black, impenetrable dark. Sometimes it seems to me that there can be no other Clarimanda than the one I see in the window, the one who plays gesture games with me. I cannot imagine a Clarimanda wearing a hat or a dress other than her black dress with the lilac motif. Nor can I imagine a Clarimanda without black gloves. The very notion that I might encounter Clarimanda somewhere in the streets or in a restaurant eating, drinking or chatting is so improbable that it makes me laugh. Sometimes I ask myself whether I love her. It's impossible to say since I've never loved before. However if the feeling that I have for Clarimanda is really love, then love is something entirely different from anything I have seen among my friends or read about in novels. It is hard for me to be sure of my feelings and harder still to think of anything that doesn't relate to Clarimanda or what is more important, to our game. Undeniably it is our game that concerns me, nothing else. And this is what I understand least of all. There is no doubt that I am drawn to Clarimanda but with this attraction there is mingled another feeling, fear. No, that's not it either. Say rather a vague apprehension in the presence of the unknown. And this anxiety has a strangely voluptuous quality so that I am at the same time drawn to her even as I am repelled by her. It is as if I were moving in giant circles around her, sometimes coming close, sometimes retreating, back and forth, back and forth. Once I am sure of it it will happen and I will join her. Clarimanda sits at her window and spins her slender, eternally fine thread making a strange cloth whose purpose I do not understand. I am amazed that she is able to keep from tangling her delicate thread. Hers is surely a remarkable design containing mythical beasts and strange masks. Thursday, March 17th I am curiously excited. I don't talk to people anymore. I barely say hello to Madame Dubonné or to the servant. I hardly give myself time to eat. All I can do is sit at the window and play the game with Clarimanda. It is an enthralling game. Overwhelming. I have the feeling something will happen tomorrow. Friday, March 18th Yes. Yes. Something will happen today. I tell myself as loudly as I can that that's why I am here and yet horribly enough I am afraid. In the fear that the same thing is going to happen to me as happened to my predecessors there is strangely mingled another fear. A terror of Clarimanda. And I cannot separate the two fears. I am frightened. I want to scream. Six o'clock. Evening. I have my hat and coat on. Just a couple of words. At five o'clock I was at the end of my strength. I am perfectly aware now that there is a relationship between my despair and the sixth hour that was so significant in the previous weeks. I no longer laugh at the trick I played in the inspector. I was sitting at the window trying with all my might to stay in my chair but the window kept drawing me. I had to resume the game with Clarimanda and yet the window horrified me. I saw the others hanging there.  The thin artist and the powerful police sergeant. I saw them one after another hanging from the same hook. Their mouths open. Their tongues sticking out. And then I saw myself among them. Oh this unspeakable fear. It was clear to me that it was provoked as much by Clarimanda as by the crossbar and the horrible hook. May she pardon me but it is the truth. In my terror I keep seeing the three men hanging there. Their legs dragging on the floor. And yet the fact is I had not felt the slightest desire to hang myself. Nor was I afraid that I would want to do so. No. It was the window I feared. And Clarimanda. I was sure that something horrid was going to happen. Then I was overwhelmed by the need to go to the window to stand before it. I had to. The telephone rang. I picked up the receiver and before I could hear a word I screamed Come! Come at once! It was as if my shrill cry had in that instant dissipated the shadows from my soul. I grew calm. I wiped the sweat from my forehead. I drank a glass of water. Then I considered what I should say to the inspector when he arrived. Finally I went to the window. Waved and smiled. Five minutes later the inspector was here. I told him that I was getting to the bottom of the matter but I begged him not to question me just then. That very soon I would be in a position to make important revelations. Strangely enough though I was lying to him I myself had the feeling that I was telling the truth. Even now against my will I have that same conviction. The inspector could not help noticing my agitated state of mind and my anguished cry over the phone. Naturally I tried to explain it to him and yet I could not find a single reason to give for it. He said affectionately that there was no need to ever to apologize to him that he was always at my disposal. That was his duty. It was better that he should come a dozen times to no effect rather than fail to be here when he was needed. He invited me to go out with him for the evening. It would be a distraction for me. It would do me good not to be alone for a while. I accepted the invitation though I was very reluctant to leave the room. Saturday, March 19th we went to the Getty Roche Choir Le Segal and Le Lune Rousse. The inspector was right. It was good for me to get out and breathe the fresh air. At first I had an uncomfortable feeling as if I were doing something wrong. As if I were a deserter who had turned his back on the flag. But that soon went away. We drank a lot, laughed and chatted. When I went to my window, Clara Manda gave me what I thought was a look of reproach. Though I may only have imagined it. How could she have known that I had gone out last night? In any case, the look lasted only for an instant. Then she smiled again. We played the game all day long. Sunday, March 20th only one thing to record. We played the game. Monday, March 21st We played the game all day long. Tuesday, March 21st Yes, the game. We played it again and nothing else. Nothing at all. Sometimes I wonder what's happening to me. What is that I want? Where is this all leading? I know the answer. There's nothing else I want except what is happening. It is what I want. What I long for. This only. Clara Manda and I have spoken with each other in the course of the last few days. But very briefly, scarcely a word. Sometimes we moved our lips, but more often we just looked at each other with deep understanding. I was right about Clara Manda's reproachful look because I went out with the inspector last Friday. I asked her to forgive me.  She forgave me and I promised never to leave the window again. We kissed, pressing our lips against each of our windowpains. Wednesday, March 23rd I now know that I love Clara Manda. That she has entered into every fiber of my being. Maybe that the loves of other men are different. But does there exist one head, one ear, one hand that is exactly like the hundreds of millions of others? There are always differences. And it must be so with love. My love is strange, I know that, but is it any less lovely because of that? Besides, my love makes me happy. If only I were not so frightened. Sometimes my terror, sometimes my anger, sometimes my terror slumbers and I forget it for a few moments, then it wakes and does not leave me. The fear is like a poor mouse trying to escape the grip of a powerful serpent. Just wait a bit. Poor, sad terror. Very soon the serpent, love will devour you. Thursday, March 24th I have made a discovery. I don't play with Clara Manda. She plays with me. Last night, thinking as always about our game, I wrote down five new and intricate gesture patterns with which I intended to surprise Clara Manda today. I gave each gesture a number that I practiced the series so I could do the motions as quickly as possible forward or backward, or sometimes only the even numbered ones, sometimes the odd, or the first and the last of the five patterns. It was tiring work, but it made me happy and seemed to bring Clara Manda closer to me. I practiced for hours until I got on path, like clockwork. This morning I went to the window. Clara Manda and I greeted each other. Then our game began. Back and forth, it was incredible how quickly she understood what was to be done, how she kept pace with me. There was a knock at the door. It was the serpent bringing me my shoes. I took them. On my way back to the window, my eye chanced to fall on the slip of paper on which I had noted my gesture patterns. It was then that I understood. When I had just finished, I had not made use of a single one of my patterns. I reeled back and had to hold on to the chair to keep from falling. It was unbelievable. I read the paper again, and again it was still true. I had gone through a long series of gestures at the window, and not one of the patterns had been mine. I had the feeling once more that I was standing before Clara Manda's wide open door through which, though I stared, I could see nothing but a dark void. I knew too that if I chose to turn from that door now I might be saved and that I still had the power to leave, and yet I did not leave because I felt myself at the very edge of the mystery as if I were holding the secret in my hands. Paris, you will conquer Paris, I thought. And in that instant, Paris was more powerful than Clara Manda. I don't think about that anymore. Now I feel only love, love and delicious terror. Still, the moment itself endowed me with strength. I read my notes again, engraving the gestures on my mind. Then I went back to the window only to become aware that there was not one of my patterns that I wanted to use. Standing there it occurred to me to rub the side of my nose. Instead I found myself pressing my lips to the windowpane. I tried to draw my fingers on the window still. Instead I brushed my fingers through my hair. And so I understood that it was not that Clara Manda did what I did. After my gestures followed her lead and with such lightning rapidity that we seemed to be moving simultaneously. I, who had been so proud because I thought I had been influencing her, I was in fact being influenced by her. Her influence. So gentle. So delightful. I have tried another experiment. I clenched my hands and put them in my pockets firmly intending not to move them one bit. Clara Manda raised her hand and, smiling at me, made a scolding gesture with her finger. I did not budge, yet I could feel how my right hand wished to leave my pocket. I shoved my fingers against the lining. But against my will my hand left the pocket. My arm rose into the air. In my turn I made a scolding gesture with my finger and smiled. It seemed to me that it was not I who was doing all this. It was a stranger whom I was watching. But of course I was mistaken. It was I making the gesture. The person watching me was the stranger. That very same stranger who not long ago was so sure that he was on the edge of a great discovery. In any case, it was not I. Of what used to me is this discovery. I am here to do Clara Manda's will. Clara Manda whom I love with an anguished heart. Friday, March 25th. I have cut the telephone cord.  God, why did I write that? Not a word of it is true. It is as if someone else were directing my pen. But I want to write the truth here though it is costing me great effort. But I want to, once more do what I want. I have cut the telephone cord. Because I had to. There it is. Had to. We stood at our windows this morning and played the game which is now different from what it was yesterday. Clara Manda makes a movement and I resist it for as long as I can. Then I give in and do what she wants without further struggle. I can hardly express what a joy it is to be so conquered. To surrender entirely to her will. We played. All at once she stood up and walked back into her room where I could not see her. She was so engulfed by the dark. Then she came back with the desk telephone like mine in her hands. She smiled and set the telephone on the window sill. After which she took a knife and cut the cord. Then I carried my telephone to the window where I cut the cord. After that I returned my phone to its place. That's how it happened. I sit at my desk where I have been drinking tea the servant brought me. He has come for the empty teapot. I ask him for the time since my watch isn't running properly. He says it is 5.15. 5.15 I know that if I look out of my window Clarimanda will be there making a gesture that I will have to imitate. I will look just the same. Clarimanda is there smiling. If only I could turn my eyes away from hers. Now she parts the curtain. She takes the cord. It is red just like the cord in my window. She ties a noose and hangs the cord on the hook in the window cross-bar. She sits down and smiles. No. Fear is no longer what I feel. Rather it is a sort of oppressive terror which I would not want to avoid for anything in the world. Its grip is irresistible, profoundly cruel and voluptuous in its attraction. I could go to the window and do what she wants me to do. But I wait. I struggle. I resist though I feel a mounting fascination that becomes more intense each minute. Here I am once more. Rashley. I went to the window where I did what Clarimanda wanted. I took the cord, tied a noose and hung it on the hook. Now I want to see nothing else except stare at this paper because if I look I know what she will do now at the sixth hour of the last day of the week. If I see her I will have to do what she wants. Have to. I won't see her. I laugh. Loudly, no, I'm not laughing. Something is laughing in me and I know why. It is because of my I won't. I won't. And yet I know very well that I have to. Have to look at her. I must. And then all that follows. If I still wait it is only to prolong this exquisite torture. Yes, that's it. This breathless anguish is my supreme delight. I write quickly, quickly just so I can continue to sit here so I can attenuate these seconds of pain. Again, terror. Again. I know that I will look toward her. That I will stand up. That I will hang myself. That doesn't frighten me. That is beautiful. Even precious. There is something else. I don't know. But since my torment is so delicious I feel feel that something horrible must follow. Think. Think, write something, anything at all to keep from looking toward her. My name, Richard Bracquement. Richard Bracquement. Richard Bracquement. Richard. I can't go on. I must. No. No, must look at her. Richard Bracquement. No. No more. Richard. Richard Bracquement. The inspector of the Ninth Precinct after repeated and vain efforts to telephone Richard arrived at the Hotel Stevens at 6.05. He found the body of the student Richard Bracquement hanging from the crossbar of the window in room number seven in the same position as each of his three predecessors. The expression on the student's face, however, was different reflecting an appalling fear. Bracquement's eyes were wide open and bulging from their sockets. His lips were drawn into a rictus and his jaws were clamped together. A huge black spider whose body was dotted with purple spots lay crushed and nearly bitten in two between his teeth. On the table there lay the student's journal. The inspector read it and went immediately to investigate the house across the street. What he learned was that the second floor of that building had not been lived in for many months. Paris, 1908 End of The Spider by Hans Heinz Ewers recorded by Brendan Reilly Chicago, Illinois Spring 2007 The Thing at Ghent This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org The Thing at Ghent by Honor A. de Balzac A peculiar thing took place at Ghent while I was staying there. A lady ten years of widow lay on her bed attacked by mortal sickness. The three heirs of collateral lineage were waiting for her last sigh. They did not leave her sigh for fear that she would make a will in favor of the convent of begins belonging to the town. The sick woman kept silent. She seemed dozing and death appeared to overspread very gradually her mute and livid face. Can't you imagine those three relations silenced through that winter midnight beside her bed? An old nurse is with them and she shakes her head. And the doctor sees with anxiety that the sickness has reached its last stage and holds his hat in one hand and what the other makes a sign to the relations. As if to say to them, I have no more visits to make here. Amid the solemn silence of the room is heard the dull rustling of a snowstorm which beats upon the shutters. For fear that the eyes of the dying woman might be dazzled by the light, the youngest of the heirs has fitted a shade to the candle which stood near the bed so that the circle of light scarcely reached the pillow of the death bed, from which the countenance of the sick woman stood out, like the figure of Christ imperfectly gilded and fixed upon a cross of tarnished silver. The flickering rays shed by the blue flames of a crackling fire were therefore the sole light of the somber chamber where the denouement of a drama was just ending. A log suddenly rolled from the fire onto the floor, as if presaging some catastrophe.  She opened to eyes, clears those of a cat and all present eyed her in astonishment. She saw the log advance and before anyone could check an unexpected movement which seemed prompted by a kind of delirium, she bounded from her bed, seized the tongs, and threw the coal back into the fireplace. The nurse, the doctor, the relations rushed to her assistance. They took the dying woman in their arms. They put her back in bed. She laid upon her pillow, and after a few minutes died, keeping her eye fixed even after her death upon that plank in the floor which the burning brand had touched. Scarcely had the Countess Van Ostrom expired when the three co-heirs exchanged looks of suspicion, and thinking no more about their aunt began to examine the mysterious floor. As they were Belgians, their calculations were as rapid as their chances. An agreement was made by three words uttered in a low voice that none of them should leave the chamber. A servant was sent to fetch a carpenter. Their collateral hearts beat excitedly as they gathered round the treasured flooring, and watched their young apprentice give the first blow with his chisel. The plank was cut through. My aunt made a sign said the youngest of the heirs. No, it was merely the quivering light that made it appear so, replied the eldest who kept one eye on the treasure and the other on the corpse. The afflicted relations discovered exactly on the spot where the brand had fallen a certain object artistically enveloped in a mass of plaster. Proceed said the eldest of the heirs. The chisel of the apprentice then brought to light a human head in some odds and ends of clothing, from which they recognized the Count whom all the town had believed to have died in Java, and whose loss had been bitterly deplored by his wife. The Thing at Gantt by Honoré de Balzac


Tech would be fine if we weren't ruled by monsters. Notes from the edge of the narrative matrix. Militarized robots are the anti-gyatin. They're the final solution to the ancient there are a lot more of us than there are of our ruler's problem. Everyone with wealth and power has been eyeing their incremental rollout with intense interest while trying to play it cool.  In a healthy society, we'd be celebrating automation and AI giving us more and more abundance and free time. Instead, we're terrified of police robots and technocratic dystopia. The knitting of neurology and technology would have incredible implications if we didn't know sociopathic intelligence agencies would immediately insert themselves into the use of those technologies.  Futurists correctly predicted many of the innovations we are seeing today. But what they generally didn't predict was that those technologies would be used to give the powerful more power while everyone else continues to flounder and struggle in a profoundly unjust civilization. All of this is only the case because we are ruled by tyrants and oppressed by tyrannical systems. It is in fact within our ability to change this. US National Security Council spokesperson John Kirby recently slammed Brazil for quote suggesting that the United States and Europe are somehow not interested in peace. An objection that makes perfect sense if you ignore the entirety of US and European history. The US and its allies don't want their people to have freedom. They just want the story of having freedom so that they can justify attacking unfree foreign countries. So they do this tightrope walk trying to erode as many freedoms as possible while still keeping the story. There's this non-stop calculation of how much freedom can we take away from our people while still saying we're better than Russia and China. And lately they've been walking right up to the line, imprisoning journalists, prosecuting dissidents, censoring the internet, etc. The desire to take away freedom from the people is so very very seductive to those in power and they have a hard time walking that line between keeping the story of being free while out eroding freedoms. This is why the hypocrisies of the empire are getting more and more obvious. They pretend that they see things like free speech and democracy as signs of a healthy society, but they don't. In reality, they see them only as weapons of narrative manipulation to be used against their enemies while giving away as little freedom and democracy as possible. In school, we are taught that our government protects our freedoms because of values that our society holds. In awakening to reality, we discovered that our government does not value those freedoms at all and sees them solely as propaganda weapons to advance their own interests. And Westerners still buy into the story. That's what's hilarious. I still get people telling me the Iraq invasion was completely different from the Ukraine invasion, because the war in Iraq was a free democracy attacking an autocracy, while the war in Ukraine is an autocracy attacking a free democracy. People shouldn't be punished for revealing the secrets of the government. Governments should be punished for keeping secrets from the people. US politics increasingly revolves around debating whether or not you should be nice to trans people because it's one of the only things the two parties actually disagree on. If you fully agree on war, authoritarianism, and capitalist exploitation, there's not much left to debate. On every issue that affects the real interests of real power, the parties are effectively in total alignment, while all the intense emotional debate gets steered toward issues the powerful don't care about one way or the other.  To quote Chomsky, the smart way to keep people passive and obedient is to strictly limit the spectrum of acceptable opinion, but allow very lively debate within that spectrum. One of the most under discussed political realities of our time is the fact that the shift in functioning, commonly known as spiritual enlightenment, A, is a well-documented phenomenon that occurs all over the world, and B, would solve all our world's problems if widely realized. This isn't some woo-woo out there the space aliens might come and save us proposition. Researchers like Jeffrey A. Martin have studied this phenomenon clinically and have collected mountains of data showing that this is a very real potentiality that exists within our species. I call this a political reality because that's exactly what it is. It's a reality that's affecting our politics right now. The fact that our species has the ability to move out of its dysfunctional relationship with mental narrative, but hasn't yet done so, affects everything about our world. Without our dysfunctional relationship with mental narrative, Propaganda would have a much harder time functioning, and we wouldn't have the psychological strings of fear, greed, and discontentment that propaganda pulls on. The propaganda-driven model of ruling would stop working. To quote Chomsky again, propaganda is to a democracy what the bludgeon is to a totalitarian state. The problem, of course, is that the potential to awaken has always existed in humanity, but has only ever been realized in a fringe minority. What's different now is that we're at an adapt or die time as a species. We're either going to awaken or we're going the way of the dinosaur. Every species eventually hits a point where it either adapts to changing conditions or goes extinct. In our case, both the changing conditions and the threat of extinction are born of our own minds, our recocital models of resource distribution, and our plunge toward nuclear war. We'll either make the necessary adaptation to continue living on this planet by shifting out of our unwholesome relationship with mental narrative, or we won't. I personally think we have the complete freedom to either pass or fail this test together.


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Hello everyone, I'm Maru. I'm come from Vietnam. This is my first video on the AR topic and I want to start this channel with the Spark AR tutorial video, a camera effects platform from Facebook. If you feel this video is useful, please click the subscribe button below, choose to receive notifications or share it with your friends to watch. Okay, let's start. Introduction To learn more about the Spark AR tool, please visit the official website www.sparkar.com. There are lots of detailed information, documents and instructions created by Facebook that you can look at. I recommend bookmarking this address because we will need to access it regularly. Check it out. Spark AR help you create interactive augmented reality experiences with or without code, then share what you build with the world. In addition, I find it really great to be able to help your business reach more people including your potential customers. Imagine, you are running a media campaign, a challenge of users is that they will take a photos at a photo booth, then upload those photos to Facebook to receive prizes. With Spark AR you can build a simple photo booth, anyone can take a photo and post it to participate in the contest. This is really easy, helping to reduce costs but reaching a lot of users. Very great. One more thing makes me really like Spark AR is users not only see the effects that you have created passively but they can interact with it also. They can touch, rotate, track movement, change effects, respond and transform their surroundings, even users can play games on this platform. That's great isn't it? For example, you are the owner of a lipstick shop. You can create a filter to help your users test them lip colors, and when they really love a certain color, they will make a stronger purchasing decision than having to go directly to the store to try. This is very helpful for your sales, especially it uses the factbook and Instagram platforms, applications that any user will have available in their smartphones. Install Spark AR application. Okay, first in the Spark AR website, select download or access the link below the description to download. To use Spark AR at this time, the minimum requirement is to have a Mac OS computer. There is currently no version for Windows yet but I think it will start in the next time. Next, you can download an application on your iPhone called Spark AR player. This software will help you check the AR effects you are doing more accurately. To use it, you need to allow access to the camera, microphone and camera roll. Connect your iPhone to the computer with a cable and start experiencing the effect. Discover Spark AR. Open Spark AR. This is the first screen you'll see. You can start by clicking on the express tutorials tab to understand more how Spark AR works. These tutorials are step-by-step designed help you can quickly get familiar with the main functions of the Spark AR. In addition, Facebook team has also created simple examples that you can start at the samples tab. You can selecting the effect you like and start exploring them. That's great. To start a project, make sure you understand the basic tools that Spark AR provides for you. Let's explore some of the most basic tools. Viewport. This is the middle part of the screen. You will work on this screen, view and work with the effect you are building here. By default, the perspective is set to bird's eye. You can also change the perspective by right-clicking on the cube in the top right corner, then changing the perspective you want. For example, you can change perspective to front or top. The emulator represents a device, for example, a mobile phone or a tablet. Use it to preview your effects like real. You can view the emulator as compression or without compression, see with the front or back camera, rotate the screen horizontally or vertically, and many other functions in the settings. In the settings section, a function I often use is simulate orbit, using the mouse to navigate the camera or simulate touch is used for tap action. You will need to switch between these two functions during the execution, especially for effects that interact with the screen. This is the toolbar. It gives you quickly and easily access to many features in Spark AR Studio. First, the insert button. Insert something into your scene, e.g. objects, light or text. You can insert an element that will cause your effect to react to its users or environments such as face tracker, plane tracker, hand tracker or 3D, 2D objects, insert light or effects you will use. The AR library section you can add properties and sound effects to your effects for free. For example, you can find a 3D object and add this 3D object to your project by clicking import. With manipulation function, you can use these tools to change your objects like changing positions, changing scales or rotating. These two tools help you change the coordinates and axes of the object. This section helps you to see your effects. Choose from a variety of videos to see what your effects look like to different people, or select FaceTime HD camera to view effects on the camera itself from your computer. You can play the effect or restart it. A good thing when you can check your effect on different devices is by using device type, selecting the drop-down list and selecting the device you need to check. It supports a lot of devices running iOS and Android. If you can't find the device you need, you can enter the size into the custom item, then add your device with the screen size. Workspace button helps you manage your work window. You will need to open the path editor window when you want to link the logic of the components in your effect.  Or you can change your frame to test different viewport. One feature I regularly use is Mirror, which is a function you can see how your effects work on real devices by connecting to the AppSpark AR player on your phone. We will go through the next section. The left bar In the left bar, you will see three main tabs, Scenes, Layers and Assets. The Scene tab is where the objects added to your effect are managed according to the parent child hierarchy. For example, I will add a plane tracker to the effect and it will appear on this Scene tab. Switching through this tab helps you manage your layers. When Spark AR Studio outputs a scene, objects are displayed in a specific order and prioritize objects closer to the camera. Using Layers and Assigning Objects to Layers helps you control the order of objects, making your effect appear properly. Assets tab is the place to manage private assets that you add to your project. You can add your own textures, materials, 3D models, animation and audio files here. For example, I will add a 3D object called demo.day to my project. I will drag and drop it into the Assets section. My object will show up here. To use it, I will drag it into the Scene section, inside the plane tracker to display it on the floor. You can use the animation that the object has also. The right bar is Inspector Panel. You can use the Inspector Panel to make changes to an asset or object that you've selected in the Scene tab or Assets Panel. For example, I will change the size of the demo object to suit the environment. Then make automatic animation work. So you learned about the interface and some basic steps to use the interface of Spark AR Studio. Start your project now