text:
_This article is about the Lion Force pilot as they appear in_ Legendary Defender_. For a list of other meanings, see Lance (disambiguation)._

LANCE is the Paladin of the Red Lion of Voltron and the former the Paladin of the Blue Lion. He is a self-described ladies' man and the self-named sharpshooter of the team.

-   1 Personality
-   2 Abilities
-   3 Notes
-   4 References

Personality

Lance's personality is very complex, as he has shown several different, often conflicting sides throughout the series. He can be very egotistical, cocky, confrontational, and arrogant at times. At other times, he is friendly, kind, reflective, and shows great intelligence. He is usually the first to make light of a delicate situation, either by joking around or flirting. Lance is noted for his poor-timed or vulgar humor at times, noted by him ripping a fart as a joke. Lance's friendly and outgoing personality allows him to connect to all of his teammates despite their many differences. Around girls, however, Lance tends to focus on flirting, sometimes neglecting his teammates, as shown through his interactions with Nyma. Lance is brave, adventurous, friendly, and free-spirited, often howling like a wild man during his fights and adventures, showcasing his unrestrained love for what he does.

However the moments he is able to let go of those feelings are the times he is able to do the most for his team. He can be quite sensitive, reflective, and distant at times when his teammates are not around or when his guard is lowered. Lance is shown to be quite homesick, deeply missing the Earth and desiring to return to his family, reminiscing on the beach near his home, splashing in puddles, and experiencing rainfall. This is one of the few times he appears sad and he is unwilling to let his friends witness it.

He is often impulsive, not very in control of his emotions and often loses the gravity of the team's mission to dreams of glory, praise, and being the center of attention. Lance reacts angrily when Keith doesn't prioritize the shows Voltron is putting on to gain support, and he is easily the most enthusiastic of the Paladins about performing in front of a crowd. Lance tends to get caught up in the way that he sees the world rather than the way things actually are. Because of this, he is noted to be the least perceptive of his team. Lance was the only one fooled by Pidge's disguise as a boy. He also sees many of Keith's comments as insulting or aggressive when Keith does not appear to mean them that way because Lance believes Keith is his rival, and the "rivalry" between them is entirely Lance's own creation. Lance is insecure about his own abilities and placement on the team, and so often acts as though he has something to prove. Lance admits that he doesn't see himself as one of Voltron's best warriors and suggests that he may not be the best choice for a Paladin of Voltron.

Contrastingly, Lance often shows a high degree of situational awareness and tactical skill while on missions, as shown when he corrected Keith's errors twice to protect the Balmera from harm from Keith's reckless attacks. When meeting the Blade of Marmora for the first time, Lance pointed out to Shiro that Keith would become angry and attack someone if taken on the mission. While this was most likely said because of his rivalry with Keith, Lance was correct in his assessment of Keith's character, as Keith's antagonistic nature created tension with the Blade when they discovered the knife in his possession.

Following Shiro's disappearance after the temporary defeat of Zarkon, Lance matured rapidly. He became far more serious in his missions and coordinating battles with his allies. During this time, he also lost much of his animosity towards Keith. Although initially desiring to be leader himself, Lance accepted the Black Lion's choice of Keith as Paladin. He becomes a much more supportive member of the team and steps up to take more of a tactical advisor's role, not sugar-coating his criticism of Keith's leadership tactics but supporting him to move forward all the same. Lance's acceptance by the Red Lion as its new pilot echoes King Alfor: acting as a right hand, trusting the Black Paladin to be a better leader than himself in battle, giving assistance when needed, and supporting his friends.

Lance has been shown to much more focused on his missions as of Season Five, primarily focusing on keeping Shiro and the others balanced and in check, displaying his latent leadership talents. Lance's ascension to the position of second-in-command has brought out a more calm and focused side to him. In Season Six, this could be seen as he was able to quickly assess the situation and give practical and intelligent commmands when the clone Shiro went on a rampage.

Abilities

Lance is a natural sharpshooter and skilled marksman who has often shown his skills by nailing his enemies with powerful shots that are few in number, displaying his rarely seen precision in a fight. His Bayard takes the form of a rifle or a sniper. His reflexes are also extremely quick, as he realized that the drone that infiltrated the Castle was not Rover, and he managed to discern this quickly enough to protect Coran from the ensuing blast, although he was injured himself in the process. Lance is also surprisingly durable despite his light frame as the aforementioned explosion should have killed him. Though he did sustain near-fatal wounds, Lance survived long enough to get to a healing pod, and was even able to wake up long enough to shoot Sendak.

Lance is a skilled improviser when it comes to battle, even directing Keith without speaking to get the drop on their Galra enemies. His piloting skills are not on the same level as Keith's, but are good enough that he was able to instinctively control the Blue Lion without any prior idea of how to do so, showing an instant close bond between them. He was also the first to figure out that the Lion was alive by following its gaze.

Lance is the most skilled of the team in all manners of aquatic combat. This is likely due to him growing up near the coast, and thus developing a high level of familiarity around, in, and under water. Lance is also likely the strongest swimmer on the team, as he is often casually comfortable in aquatic environments that disorient his teammates rather easily. His lean build allows for a high degree of skill in the water, as most competitive swimmers are long and lean in appearance like Lance is.

Lance's skill as a marksman is recognized by Shiro, who refers to Lance as the team's sharpshooter, after hearing Lance mention it. This talent is further backed by his precision timing on the battlefield, as during the mission to rescue Slav, Lance was able to calculate his final shot in such a manner that it allowed Slav to escape the airlock by waiting till the last minute to shoot the warden's mechanical arm at a critical area, securing the mission's success and the scientist's freedom.

Lance is shown in his official stats to be the most well-rounded of the team, marking him as something of a jack-of-all-trades, and helping him to find common ground with all of the members of his team. Like Hunk, this rounded set of skills allows him to both literally and figuratively support his teammates.

Lance has been shown to be a naturally skilled swordsman, having an innate proclivity for the Altean broadsword style, able to slice several training drones within fractions of a second of unlocking the Red Bayard's sword form.

Lance initially had great difficulty handling the Red Lion's outrageous speed, not used to such a willful and wild Lion to pilot. However, he slowly and steadily gained ground, bonding deeper with Red and accepting this change for the better.

Notes

-   Lance was originally only known to be in his late teens.[3] Jeremy Shada, his voice actor, has described him as being 16.[4] However, his age was clarified in _The Paladin's Handbook_ official guidebook, revealing he is 17.
    -   _The Voltron Coalition Handbook_ states that a year has passed since Shiro's return to Earth, making Lance 18 at the youngest by the time season six ends.

-   Lance is Cuban.[5] He grew up in or near Varadero.[6]

-   _The Paladin's Handbook_ official guidebook gives garlic knots as Lance's favorite food.

-   "The hunter becomes the hunted" is a quote in some of Lance's favorite movies.

-   It was revealed on the 100th episode of the _Lets Voltron Podcast_ (released June 14, 2017) that Lance's birthday is July 28th.
-   Lance's use of a double-edged broadsword is reminiscent of a battle in the classic Voltron series in which he fights with a similar weapon.

References

1.

    ↑ The Paladin's Handbook
2.

    ↑ Let's Voltron 100th Podcast Celebration!
3.

    ↑ San Diego Comic-Con 2016
4.

    ↑ Let's Voltron Interview with Jeremy Shada at WonderCon 2016 (0:52)
5.

    ↑ Voltron Twitter
6.

    ↑ Fall of the Castle of Lions

V • E Team Voltron in _Voltron: Legendary Defender_
Voltron (Black Lion • Red Lion • Green Lion • Blue Lion • Yellow Lion)
Former Paladins
Keith • Pidge • Hunk • LANCE • Allura • Shiro • Shiro (clone) • Zarkon • Alfor • Trigel • Blaytz • Gyrgan
Additional Members
Coran • Space Mice • Rover

question: What are Lance's least endearing qualities?

answer: He is egotistical, cocky, confrontational, and arrogant at times. Lance is noted for his poor-timed or vulgar humor at times. He is often impulsive, not very in control of his emotions and often loses the gravity of the team's mission to dreams of glory, praise, and being the center of attention.

question: How did Shiro's disappearance affect Lance?

answer: He is often impulsive, not very in control of his emotions and often loses the gravity of the team's mission to dreams of glory, praise, and being the center of attention. Lance accepted the Black Lion's choice of Keith as Paladin. He becomes a much more supportive member of the team and steps up to take more of a tactical advisor's role, despite wanting the position for himself.


split: test

text: I walked slowly, admiring the eerie yet stunning beauty of this little paradise I found. The trees were all full of green leaves, so many shades from a bright emerald to a dark shimmering green almost black. The trees also boasted an affinity for life, squirrels, birds, bugs, snakes, all creatures coexisting within the same tree, and there were thousands of these trees around. The ground is covered in soft grass, damp and cool from the shade provided by the multitude of trees, Fungus and mushrooms of strange shades and hues burst through the ground at seeming random intervals, shelf fungus along the trunks of the trees make an almost spiral staircase up to the foliage. Luscious yet bizarre fruits decorate the upper branches and suspend themselves like shining gems, each a different color from the one next to it. The breeze and the sound of a distant river provide a soothing ambience along with the sounds of life in this place. I've been to this place quite often, climbed the trees, tasted the fruits, and talked with the multitudes of life, yet I have not seen the river from which this place must grow. I've walked for hours in all directions, the trees and bear no distinguishing marks, and I choose not to make any for fear of upsetting this place. I can always hear the river, never growing stronger or fading, always a constant, as if seeming for me to know it’s there but not to let me see it. I continue to wander, searching, no longer entrapped by the beauty of the trees or their complex eco system, the fruits have all become bitter, this place senses my frustration and changes accordingly. Sometimes when I first enter this place I can still feel the presence of the outside, I think I can see other people walking, as enraptured as I was when I first came here. I think I see them but, they too disappear as this place envelopes me. I am spending more time here now, constantly searching for the water, I don’t know why, but it’s all I care to find. The trees are growing to a constant shimmering black, and the sound of life has almost ceased. Every now and then there are bright places, with new life, snakes, snails, mice, all moving spasmodically in an area, like flashes of light in the surrounding gloom. I hardly notice them anymore. I must find that river, I spend almost all day here now, and I come back every night. The river still eludes me. I need to find it. The leaves have begun falling off the trees, what I can see of the sky is a flat black, it gives neither the illusion of night, but seems to absorb all the light. I've not seen a sun in this place yet. I choose to write this here now, in order to express the full effect, the need and desire to find this river. I don’t know why, or what makes me feel the need to find it. I'm not sure what will happen when I find it, or if I will, but I have to. Today I’m going to find the river. I found another snake, he had the same grin and vibrant colors of the others, I ignored the pleasant aura, I have to find the river. I opened its mouth to find two sharp teeth. As I carried the snake to a tree it began to grow, longer bigger, he grew cold in my hands. It started to hiss and writhe in my hands, I forced its mouth open and dragged the razor teeth across the dead tree. I must find the river. The snake struggled harder as I pushed its face into the tree harder, scouring deep gouges in the wood. The tree started to wail, a loud high pitched keening, its creamed and caught fire, the dead wood and remaining leaves alighting in azure, liquid fire. The burned down to a pool of aqueous blue fire, the surrounding trees caught flame also. I was surrounded by blue flames, purging this place of life and substance, the sound of the river grew stronger. Then I was there, the river raging relentlessly, flowing with the rage of an angry god. Still covered in the liquid blue fires I stepped into this torrent. I start to feel myself dissolve, as the river was made of the same liquid blue fire that burned me, yet as I felt myself burn away, my thoughts continued, my psyche still intact and active. I stopped the flow of azure fire, feeling it bend and give to my will. I opened my mind’s eye and surveyed my life as it was...... and I let go.

title: The grip and break of sanity.

question: What is the narrator looking for?

answer: The narrator is looking for a river in the forest.


text:
(I hope that's the right tag. First time posting here)

  We were twins, you know. Or perhaps you don't; we are the most often overlooked part of the story. Glossed over with only a few lines. You'd think we were born for the sole purpose of being a minor obstacle to the True Heroine of the tale. We were not. We were twins.

  Gwendolen was eldest. Born just hours before myself, though to hear it from her you'd think it was years. Always the responsible one, keeping my restless hands out of trouble. There's a story she loves to tell about us that happened when we were very small. We were supposed to be practicing needlepoint while Mother had business elsewhere in the house. Gwen, of course being the good child, focused only on her sewing while I became distracted by the fire. The glowing coals must have held some allure for me because at some point I'd put down my needle and thread and reached out and grabbed hold of one. It seared my skin and though I cried out in pain I could not open my hand to let it go. Gwen sprung from her chair and pried the coal from me before plunging my hand into a bowl of cool milk left out for the cat. This, she says, saved my hand from being burned to the bone. I don't know if that's true. I have no memory of the event, though I still have a scar in the palm of my hand.

  Mother loved making us compete. She said it made us better if we challenged each other. We got our first corsets at the time of our first bleeding. Mother said it was time we put away childish things and focus on becoming women.

  No longer was I allowed to play in the stables and dirty my pretty dresses. No longer was I permitted to walk among the rose garden and ruin my complexion by way of the sun. No longer was I allowed to challenge the butler's boy in footraces, flashing my knees for all the world to see. I must become quiet, reserved, alluring, educated but not outspoken, slim and pretty but demure, my voice forever hushed. I was not a quiet child and becoming a quiet woman was not an easy task for me.

"Rosamund," my mother would snap. "Rosamund, keep your voice down! Put your hands by your sides! Wipe that look off your face! Head up, shoulders down! Rosamund are you listening to me? Rosamund, do as I say!"

  When we were good we were rewarded lavishly - dresses and scarves, and perfumes. When we were bad we were punished severely - slapped, starved, and locked away. We tried so hard to be good girls.

  Father died. His horse spooked at something and Father fell hard, so hard that he never got up again. We wore black for a year.

  At the end of the year, Mother married to a man who was a stranger to us. He too had a daughter. She was a bad girl, running about doing whatever she pleased. Because she was not her own flesh and blood, Mother could not punish the girl as she punished us and so she took out her doubled rage and frustration on her own daughters.

  We were given lessons and expected to succeed at them. Singing, dancing, sewing, riding, etiquette. Every failure was met with a swift reminder that we must be better.

  Vinegar rinse was applied to my hair twice a day to lighten it. A boar bristle brush and caustic soap were used vigorously in an attempt to cure me of my freckles. Mother made me hold my jaw a certain way to make my face appear slimmer and talked about possibly removing teeth from the back of my mouth to improve my smile.

  When it came to our lessons it became clear that I couldn't carry a tune in a bucket whereas Gwendolen sang like a dream. My wretched croak made Mother seethe. But there was one activity where I could outshine Gwen: dance.

  I loved to dance. To feel the music flow like blood in my veins. I moved like a bird in the skies. I always wanted to take things further, to push the movements I was capable of. Twisting, spinning kicking and leaping high, high into the air. I had to be careful though; if Mother thought I was being too enthusiastic she'd bind my feet to make them still.

"Your dancing is too wild. You will scare your suitors away."

  Oh yes, did I mention? All of this was not for our benefit. We were to become brides. We were to become irresistible prizes for wealthy, well connected husbands. Who cared if their faces were handsome or ugly, how kind were their hearts as long as they had lands and titles. As eldest, Gwen was to be married first and it felt like betrayal that that comforted me. I wanted to remain a child a little longer.

  As for our stepsister, anything but the moon was hers for the taking. Our dolls, our ribbons, every moment of our time if she wanted our attention. She roamed freely, sure in her position in the household.

  That all changed when our stepfather died. He grew sick with a coughing in his chest that would not leave. He had time to make our Mother promise to raise his daughter as if she were her own. Mother agreed to do this.

  At first our stepsister's behaviour was understandable. Grief can do powerful things to a person. But more and more little Ella defied our Mother's orders. Such behaviour was unthinkable to myself and Gwen. One evening at the dinner table Ella purposefully spilled a bowl of lentil soup.

  Gwen and I froze, anticipating a beating. It didn't matter that we were on the opposite side of the table, somehow the blame would land on us. We were braced for it.

  Instead Mother changed things. She stood over Ella and made her clean the soup by herself. She told the girl that if she was going to behave as a common peasant that she could live like one. It was a punishment of a whole different kind.

  Ella's room was emptied and her toys given to us, nevermind that we were too old for them. Ella was moved downstairs to a plain room that had been a closet. Mother told her that since she kept ruining her dresses by playing in them she would receive clothing more appropriate to her activities. She took away the things that made her feel entitled to believe she was a little princess.

  Life went on with this new balance of power. Suddenly I was not the lowest of the pecking order. I could scream and shout and vent my frustrations on someone who could not and would not strike back. Gwen, I think, enjoyed her marginal increase in status more than she would ever admit. Now we didn't have to be better than each other; we just had to be better than Ella.

  But even then we were failures. The girl often sang to herself as a way to pass time during chores. I discovered this one painfully boring afternoon as I struggled to master the flute. I thought I must have finally gotten something right before realizing the sound was not coming from my instrument. I set the awful thing down and put my ear against the door. It was definitely coming from downstairs. I followed my ear to the kitchen where Ella was obliviously scrubbing the floors.

  For a while I could not bring myself to interrupt. So beautiful, so ethereal. But I knew when Gwendolen's punishment would be if Mother knew some little girl with no formal lessons was better than my sister. So I slapped her. I told her that if she was ever caught singing I would pour boiling water down her throat so that she could never do it again. Sisters have to protect each other.

Time passed. We all grew up a little more.

  The Royal Family announced a ball to be held in three month's time. They were the worst three months yet. Mother prohibited us from eating anything but fruits so that we would be slim and our breath smell sweet. To drink we were only allowed milk with honey so that our complexions would glow and our voices be soft. The corsets grew tighter and tighter, the lessons more intense. Mother had a mission and that mission was to marry us off. If it was to be one of the nobles at the ball so be it but the real prize was the Prince himself.

  There was more pressure than ever before to be perfect, to be a lure for a future King. Every misstep was called out. Every flaw circled in ink on our bodies and made a target. We had to embody the essence of perfection. Anything less and we might as well not even bother to exist.

  Cinder-Ella's work performance declined sharply. Our lace was burned during ironing, our dresses wrinkled, our jewelry a wild mess. Mother suspected Ella was stealing from us to sabotage our chances. But she could prove nothing until the day of the ball.

  We were gathered in the front hall awaiting the carriage to be brought up when she flounced down the stairs. The reason for Ella's distraction and theft became apparent immediately. She wore a gown - it must have been her mother's once - that had been taken apart at the seams and rebuilt with our ribbons, our fabric, our lost pieces of jewelry. She was glowing, she looked so lovely.

  Mother didn't have to say a word. Just arched an eyebrow and let us tear into Ella like the perfectly trained lapdogs we'd become. I screamed as I took my things back from her. I wanted to hurt her so very badly, this thief, this pretender. How dare she? How dare she be more beautiful than I, so much more talented and poised and perfect without ever trying. How dare she, when I had sacrificed so much to become what she was without effort.

We left her in the hall, her dress and dignity torn to shreds.

  I broke down in the carriage. Mother handed me a handkerchief to prevent my tears from smudging my carefully applied makeup. She murmured what she must have thought were soothing things about how I might live in a palace soon if I was good enough and that I'd never have to see nasty Cinder-Ella ever again. But I wasn't crying about her. I was crying for the beast my Mother had made me into. I swore to myself that if I did marry the Prince I would restore Ella to the life she'd had before and force my Mother to live in the lowest basement and wear servant's rags. She would never again be our master.

  But of course I didn't marry the Prince. I never even got to share a dance with him because he spent the entire night dancing with a single partner. I watched from the back of the crowd as Mother patted my hair and scraped my scalp with her nails. Her fury was palpable. Unlike Gwen, I found myself inexplicably relieved. I finally understood that I could never live a life that demanded as much pressure for perfection as being a Queen required. I would be happy to melt away in the background and live a life unscrutinised.

  The next morning we learned from a herald that the Prince did not know the object of his affection as well as had been presumed by everyone who had watched them dance. He didn't even know the girl's name! So much for the attentiveness of adoration. What a terrible suitor he made.

  My mind had changed but my Mother's had not. When she got word the Prince himself would be arriving to search our household for his love she flew into a frenzy. Ella was locked away so as not to sabotage us with an act of revenge. We were bathed and scrubbed within an inch of our lives and squeezed into the most absurd dresses yet. We could hardly breathe, let alone walk.

  The herald ushered in the Prince, who carried on a pillow a slipper made of pure glass. *How impractical for dancing,* I thought *All he has to do is check for women with extremely bruised feet.*

  At Mother's request we were allowed to try on the shoe in privacy. I think Mother knew on sight that we would never fit into the ridiculous thing. I assumed that the closed door was to spare us our dignity when we failed. How wrong I was.

  Mother struggled for so long to cram the shoe on Gwendolen's foot but it was a hopeless cause from the beginning. I relaxed a little, thinking that if Gwen as the eldest didn't have a chance then I would be left alone entirely. Wrong. Mother insisted I try as well. My feet were smaller than Gwen's but only by a margin. They were simply too big.

So Mother cut them down to size.

Gwen held me down when Mother brought out the knife. Stuffed a handkerchief in my mouth to stifle the screams.

"Calm down, child! I'm doing this for you! You'll see, this will all be worth it. It's. For. Your. Own. Good!"

  In the end they did manage to get the thing on me. Minus my toes and a part of my heel, of course. Everything my mother had been working for depended on me not breaking down as she and my sister walked me back to the parlour to show off.

I made it twelve steps.

When I recovered from the fainting the first thing I saw was Ella, sitting prim and proper in a chair as the Price slid the glass slipper effortlessly on her foot. They embraced and he took her arm as they left without a glance back. My blood was still on the glass.

I did not dance at the wedding. Ella may have invited us to spite us as my Mother speculated. Or maybe she was just a better person than we all were. Nevertheless, I did not dance.

I can not dance anymore, the daughter cut down to fit the mould of a Princess she was never meant to be.

title: [MF] Golden Child: The Forgotten Sisters

question: What does the story say about cruelty?

answer: The entire story revolves around a lust for status that provokes harsh and cruel behavior. A mother wants her daughters to be perfect suitors for royalty, so she pushes them really hard to look and behave in a certain way, heavily punishing every failure. The punishments eventually all fall on the step-daughter of the mother, and her conditioning of her twin daughters is so strong that they become cruel as well. This all culminates in the mother cutting her daughter's feet to fit into a small, glass shoe so that the Prince may take her as his suitor.

question: Summarize the twins' childhood.

answer: Of the twins, Gwen is the older one by a few hours. For the earlier part of her and Rosamund's childhood, they were put against each other to compete. At the onset of puberty, they weren't allowed to be children anymore. Their mother pushed them to be perfect little princesses, singing, dancing, educated but without being outspoken, or demure. The twins are rewarded or punished according to their mother's whims, and they wished to be good. After their father's death, their mother married, and the twins had a step-sister, Ella. She was free to do as she wished, and their mother took out her frustrations on the twins. But, Ella's father died too, and so Ella also became subject to the twins' mother. Ella's unruly behavior caused the mother to punish her by taking away all the nice things she had, making her live in a closet.

question: What does the story say about the nobility and the Prince?

answer: Their wealth and power make them excessively desired for women seeking status and easy life. Some, like the mother in the story, practically torture their daughters to make them fit into the mold of what a princess should be. When the Prince likes a girl, he searches for her. However, he has no idea who she is or what she looks like. He only knows that she lost her shoe, and searches for her by making girls try it. His shallow behavior doesn't go unnoticed. The Prince eventually discovers that the shoe fits Cinderella and takes her away to marry.

question: What does the story say about the trials of nobility?


text:
This is the 3rd and currently last part in my series on parapsychological double-slit experiments. It discusses the pilot study by Dean Radin and the six following experiments by him and others.

The Less Said…

In 2008, Dean Radin published an article in _Explore, The Journal of Science & Healing_, a journal dedicated to alternative medicine. That’s certainly a good way to hide it from anyone who knows or cares about physics. Or ethics.
Dean Radin is currently coeditor-in-chief.

Now hold tight because this paper is bad.

Obviously, the original design and justification for the experiment is taken from Jeffers, though Radin fails to give him the appropriate credit. However, the implementation is different.

Radin used a so-called Michelson interferometer for the experiment. This is physically equivalent to Jeffers’ set-up in all relevant aspects. However, due to being extremely sensitive to environmental factors, like temperature or vibrations, it seems a less than ideal choice.
Another thing that is different is the outcome measure. That’s where things really go south. He uses a CCD chip to capture the interference pattern. Unfortunately he then completely disregards it.
Instead he computes the total intensity of the light reaching the chip.
With that, the experiment becomes a test if the subjects can throw a shadow by concentrating on a spot.
Radin seems completely oblivious of that simple fact.

In all likelihood, Radin simply did not get a positive result and then, instead of accepting it, went fishing. How that works (except not really) is simply explained here.

The title of the paper, _Testing Nonlocal Observation as a Source of Intuitive Knowledge_, tells us that Radin sees this as relevant to intuition. Intuition, as he points out, is regarded as an important source of artistic inspiration or for scientific insights. It’s a bit hard to see what the connection between that and casting shadows should be. But remember that Radin doesn’t know what he is doing. He believes this is like Jeffers’ original design.
His first error is in thinking that the original design could that someone gains knowledge about the photons’ paths. Learn why not in this post. This is a simple misunderstanding and easy to follow.
His second error is more weird and more typically parapsychological. He thinks that, if people can gain knowledge about the paths of a few photons in some unknown way, then it’s reasonable to assume that they can gain any knowledge via the same unknown mechanism.
We detect photons all the time with our eyes, and much more effectively. If that doesn’t tell us anything about intuition, then why should this?

The bottom line is that evidently the experiment was botched. And even if it hadn’t been, the conclusions he tries to draw just wouldn’t follow. The connections he sees are just not there, at least as far as there is evidence.

Six More Experiments

Finally, we get to the current paper by Dean Radin, Leena Michel, Karla Galdamez, Paul Wendland, Robert Rickenbach, and Arnaud Delorme. I think Radin wrote most of the paper. It repeats so many errors of the previous one and the statistics are his style.

The paper is miles better. It follows Jeffers original set-up quite closely. For one, they use a standard double-slit set-up. They don’t measure the contrast in the way Jeffers did but something that should work just as well. At least, the justification seems solid to me though I don’t know enough to actually vouch for it.
What’s more, they say that the ups and downs of the measure were given as feed-back to the subjects. This again follows Jeffers’ lead and, importantly, gives me some confidence that it was not chosen after the fact. But again Jeffers is not properly credited with coming up with the original design of the experiment.

Unfortunately this paper again does not report the actual physical outcome. They don’t report how much the subjects were able to influence the pattern. What seems clear is that none of them was able to alter the pattern in a way that stood out above the noise.
It would have been interesting to know if the measurements were any more precise than those conducted by Jeffers and Ibison. If their apparatus is better, and the effect still couldn’t be clearly measured, then that would suggest confirmation that Ibison’s result was just chance.

They calculate that, on average, the pattern in periods where subjects paid attention was slightly different from the pattern when they did not pay attention. That is valid in principle because you can get a good measurement with a bad apparatus by simply repeating the process a lot of times.
However, any physicist or engineer would try their utmost to improve that apparatus rather than rely on repetitions.

On the whole, this is not handled like a physics experiment but more like one in social science.
Most importantly, the effect size reported is not about any physically measurable change to the interference pattern. It is simply a measure for how much the result deviated from “chance expectation”. That’s not exactly what should be of top interest.

The paper reports six experiments. To give credit where credit should not be due, some would have pooled the data and pretended to have run fewer but larger experiments to make the results seem more impressive. That’s not acceptable, of course, but still done (EG by Daryl Bem).

Results and Methods

The first four experiments presented all failed to reach a significant result, even by the loose standards common in social science. However, they all pointed somewhat in the right direction which might be considered encouraging enough to continue.

Among these experiments there were two ill-conceived attempts to identify other factors that might influence the result.
The first idea is that somewhat regular ups and downs in the outcome measure could have coincided with periods of attention and no attention. I can’t stress enough that this would have been better addressed by trying to get the apparatus to behave.
Instead, Radin performs a plainly bizarre statistical analysis. I’m sure this was thought up by him rather than a co-author because it is just his style.
Basically, he takes out all the big ups and downs. So far so fine. This should indeed remove any spurious ups and downs coming from within the apparatus. But wait, it should also remove any real effect!
Radin, however, is satisfied with still getting a positive result even when there is nothing left of that could cause a true positive result. The “positive” result Radin gets is obviously a meaningless coincidence that almost certainly would not repeat in any of the other experiments. And indeed, he reports the analysis only for this one experiment.
Make no mistake here, once a method for such an analysis has been implemented on the computer for one set of data, it takes only seconds to perform it on any other set of data.

The second attempt concerns the possibility that warmth might have affected the result. A good way to test this is probably to introduce heat sources into the room and see how that affects the apparatus.
What is done is quite different. Four thermometers are placed in the room while an experiment is conducted. The idea seems to have been that if the room gets warmer this indicates that warmth may have been responsible. Unfortunately, since you don’t know if you are measuring at the right places, you can’t conclude that warmth is not responsible if you don’t find any. Besides it might not be a steady increase you are looking for. In short, you don’t know if your four thermometers could pick up anything relevant or how to recognize it, if they did.
Conversely, even if the room got warmer with someone in it, this would not necessarily affect the measurement adversely.
In any case, temperature indeed seemed to increase slightly. Why the same temperature measurements were not conducted in the other experiments, or why the possible temperature influence was not investigated further, is unclear to me. They believe this should work, so why don’t they continue with it?

The last two experiments were somewhat more elaborate. They were larger, comprising about 50 subjects rather than about 30, and took an EEG of subjects. The fifth experiment is the one success in the lot insofar that it reports a significant result.

Conclusion

If you have read the first part of this series then you have encountered a mainstream physics articles that studied how the thermal emission of photons affects the interference pattern. What that paper shares with this one is that both are interested in how a certain process affects the interference pattern.

And yet the papers could hardly be more different. The mainstream paper contains extensive theoretical calculations that place the results in the context of known physics. The fringe paper has no such calculations and relies mainly on pop science accounts of quantum physics.

The mainstream paper presents a clear and unambiguous change in the interference pattern. Let’s look at it again.
[]
The dots are the particles and the lines mark the theoretically expected interference patterns fitted to the actual results. As you can see the dots don’t exactly follow the lines. That’s just unavoidable random variation due to any number of reasons. And yet the change in the pattern can be clearly seen.

From what is reported in Radin’s paper we can deduce that the change associate with attention was not even remotely as clean. In fact, the patterns should be virtually identical the whole time.
THAT MEANS, THAT _IF_ THERE IS A REAL EFFECT IN RADIN’S PAPER, IT IS _TINY_. So tiny that it can’t be properly seen with the equipment they used.

That is hardly a surprising result. If paying attention on something was able to change its quantum behavior in a noticeable way, then this should have been noticed long ago. Careful experiments should be plagued by inexplicable noise, depending on what the experimenters are thinking about.

The “positive” result that he reports suffer from the same problem as virtually all positive results in parapsychology and also many in certain recognized scientific disciplines. It may simply be due to kinks in the social science methodology employed.
Some of the weirdness in the paper, not all of which I mentioned, leaves me with no confidence that there is more than “flexible methods” going on here.

Poor Quantum Physics

Radin believes that a positive result supports “consciousness causes collapse”.  He bemoans a lack of experimental tests of that idea and attributes it, quite without justification, to a “taboo” against including consciousness in physics.
Thousands upon thousands of physicists and many times more students have out of some desire to conform simply refused to do some simple and obvious experiment. I think it says a lot about Radin and the company he keeps that he has no problem believing that.
I don’t know about you, my dear readers, but when I am in such a situation would have thought differently. Either all those people who should know more about the subject than me have their heads up their behinds. Or maybe it is just me. And I would have wondered if there was maybe something I am missing. And I would have found out what it was and avoided making an ass of myself. Then again, I would have (and have) also avoided book deals and the adoration of many fans and the like, all of which Radin secured for himself.
So who’s to say that reasonable thinking is actually the same as sensible thinking.

But back to the physics. As is obvious when one manages to find the relevant literature, conscious awareness of any information is not necessary to affect an interference pattern. Moreover, wave function collapse is not necessary to explain this. Both of this should be plain from the mainstream paper mentioned here.

Outlook

My advice to anyone who thinks that there’s something about this is to try to build a more sensitive apparatus and/or to calibrate it better. If the effect still doesn’t rise over the noise, it probably still wasn’t there in the first place. If it does, however, future research becomes much easier.
For example, if tiny magnetic fields influence this, as Radin suggests, that could be learned in a few days.

Unfortunately, it does not appear that this is the way Dean Radin and his colleagues are going about but I’ll refrain from comment until I have more solid information.
But at least, the are continuing the line of investigation. They deserve some praise for that. It is all too often the case that parapsychologists present a supposedly awesome, earth-shattering result and then move on to do something completely different.

Update

I omitted to comment on a lot of details in the second paper to keep things halfway brief. In doing so I overlooked one curiosity that really should be mentioned.

The fourth experiment is “retrocausal”. That means, in this case, that the double-slit part of the experiment was run and recorded three months before the humans viewed this record, and tried to influence it. The retrocausality in itself is not really such an issue. Time is a curious thing in modern physics and not at all like we intuit.

The curious thing is that it implies that the entire recording was in a state of quantum superposition for a whole three months. Getting macroscopic objects into and keeping them in such states is enormously difficult. It certainly does not just happen on its own. What they claim to have done there is simply impossible as far as mainstream quantum physics is concerned. Not just in theory, but it can’t be done in practice despite physicists trying really hard.

question: Summarize why Dean Radin's paper is bad.

answer: According to the article, Dean Radin ignores physics, and worse, ethics in the paper. Also, the basis of the experiment is not properly credited to Jeffers. The implementation of the experiment itself is flawed: it makes use of an uncertain device, the gathering of data is not consistent, and the formulation of the conclusion is not derived from the experiment's data. the article goes on to describe how Radin's understanding of photons and perception are wrong.


text:
The LAC DES NEIGES (_English: Lake of Snow_) is a freshwater body located in the unorganized territory of Lac-Jacques-Cartier, in the La Côte-de-Beaupré Regional County Municipality, in the administrative region of Capitale-Nationale, in the province of Quebec, in Canada.

The hydrographic side of this lake is mainly served by the forest road R0308 coming from the South and passing on the east side of the lake. A secondary forest road runs along the east shore to serve a dozen chalets in the mouth of the lake and the area north of the upper part of the Rivière des Neiges.

Because of its altitude, the surface of Lac des Neiges is generally frozen from the end of November to the beginning of April; however, safe circulation on the ice is generally done from mid-December to the end of March. The water level is controlled by a dam built at its mouth.

Geography

Enclosed between the mountains, this and in length is about north of Quebec city in Forêt Montmorency, in Laurentides Wildlife Reserve.[1] This lake is located east of Fradette Lake which is crossed from south to north by the Malbaie River and south of Malbaie Lake (La Côte-de-Beaupré).[2]

This lake turns out to be the source of the Rivière des Neiges. The surface of the lake is at above sea level. Lac des Neige has a marsh area in the north and northeast.[3]

The main mountain peaks around Lac des Neiges are:

-   North side: two peaks at each;
-   East side (described from north to south): a summit at , a summit at , Mont Francine-C.McKenzie at , a vertex at ;
-   South side: a summit at ;
-   West side (described from north to south): summit at , Mont Pierre-Dugua-De Mons at , Mont de la Québécoises at , a summit at , a summit at , Mont Jean-Hubert at , a peak at and another at .[4]

The summit of Mont Belle Fontaine, the highest in the reserve, peaks at at southwest of Lac des Neiges. Formerly a fire tower was installed there.[5]

With an average flow, the Rivière des Neiges weaves 40 km in a southerly direction to empty into the Montmorency River. The Rivière des Neiges, whose bed is very rocky, flows at the bottom of a glacial valley which becomes more and more steep and spectacular as one approaches the point of confluence. Its low water level does not allow navigation, except for the kayak descent during the spring flood.

Lac-des-Neiges Ancient Forest

Located about 70 km north of Quebec, Lac-des-Neiges has an ancient forest spread over three sites: on the west shore of Lac des Neiges (facing the mouth of the lake), on the north shore of the dam of head of the rivière des Neiges and on the west bank of the Rivière des Neiges below Lac English. Covering , this ancient forest is found in the bioclimatic subdomain of the eastern white birch fir forest.

The last great ice age, which would have ended about 10,000 years ago, left significant glacial deposits in this area; these deposition layers generally have a thickness of .

The main feature of this ancient forest is the black spruce fir tree, some trees of which are 200 years old. Among the various species of trees populating this ancient forest, the fir is dominant there because of the cool and very humid climate. In addition, the mountainous and rocky relief generates a low density of the dominant cover; tree trunks generally have a low height.

So far, severe natural disturbances (forest fires, insect epidemics, high winds and lightning strikes) have not affected this exceptional forest ecosystem; this state of natural preservation is rather rare for such an old coniferous forest. In addition, human activities have had little impact on this natural territory, particularly because of its relief and its difficulty of access.

Generally, the forests north of Quebec City, in the high foothills of the Laurentians, are unlikely to evolve to very advanced stages; this anticipation stems from the fact that these forests have been exploited by silviculture since the middle of the 19th century and the non-harvested woody material is often decimated by epidemics of the spruce budworm. However, these epidemics help to rejuvenate forest stands.

This protected forest area of Lac-des-Neiges is home to Leptoporus mollis, a fungus, and Anastrophyllum hellerianum, a liverwort. Studies on the ancient forests of Europe often refer to these two species which are associated with the large, little degraded woody debris of the Laurentides; Once dominant in this area, these species have become rare. Consequently, the researchers recommended to government authorities that this typical Lac-des-Neiges forest be preserved by granting it the status of old growth forest.

This forest area also includes black spruce and white birch, which are widely distributed in the territory but in low density. These tree species are found to be denser only in the few sites that have been affected by larger windfall. Fir trees are generally favored by plant regeneration; and occasionally black spruce and white birch. The herbaceous vegetation is generally dense; it mainly includes Rubus pubescens and Gymnocarpium disjuncta. The moss bed is dominated in places by Pleurozium schreberi and Hylocomium splendens.[6]

Toponymy

Lac des Neiges appears in historical documents from the beginning of early 18th century, among others in 1731 on a map of Father Pierre-Michel Laure.[7]

During the period of abstinence and deprivation of Lent (before Christian Easter), the residents of the Côte-de-Beaupré went up the lake's emissary rivers, the Montmorency rivers, by ice roads and des Neiges, to go fishing on Lac des Neiges. They fished there for lake trout, formerly called “forked tail” by French Canadians, some of which could weigh up to .[8] After good catches, these fishermen piled up on sleds these large gray trout like a wooden cord.

Located near the lake, a fishing camp of the government of Quebec is reserved exclusively for dignitaries and guests of the government; formerly, this lake was designated “Lake of Ministers”, because of the exclusivity of the camp and the fishing rights on this lake.

The toponymic designation used is explained by the presence of snow on the surrounding peaks for a greater part of the year than in the surrounding valleys. In spring, the melting of this snow contributes to feeding the lake. This one, called Oohkiahi by the Wendats (Hurons), is perched about 850 m above sea level.[9]

The toponym “Lac des Neiges” was formalized on December 5, 1968 at the Commission de toponymie du Québec.[10]

Notes and references

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5] Atlas of Canada - Toporama - Department of Natural Resources Canada - Measures Done using the application of distances and altitude.

[6] Old Lac-des Forest -Neiges - Montane black spruce fir - Natural Resources and Wildlife - Quebec.

[7]

[8]

[9] Source: Names and places of Quebec, work of the Commission de toponymie published in 1994 and 1996 in the form of a printed illustrated dictionary, and in that of a CD-ROM produced by the company Micro-Intel, in 1997, from this dictionary.

[10] .

title: Lac des Neiges

question: Where is the Lac des Neiges located?

answer: It is located in the La Côte-de-Beaupré Regional County Municipality, in the administrative region of Capitale-Nationale, in the province of Quebec, in Canada.

question: What surrounds the Lac de Neiges?

answer: It is enclosed between mountains. It is east of Fradette Lake and south of Malbaie Lake.


text:
Dragon Ball FighterZ is six months old and it's still going strong. Arc System Works' superb fighting game launched with a bang and has sold an impressive 2.5m copies - a great haul for a fighting game. While interest has understandably calmed, fighting game fans have stuck with the game, and it's set to star at Evo - the world's biggest fighting game tournament - with the highest number of entrants, more even than headline act Street Fighter 5. No matter which way you look at it, Dragon Ball FighterZ has been an enormous success for publisher Bandai Namco.

My Dragon Ball FighterZ review runs through why I think the game is great. It nails the Dragon Ball anime, does a great job of appealing to fighting game newcomers and veterans, and is just a lot of fun to play.

But I thought it a good time to have a chat with Tomoko Hiroki, the producer of the game from Bandai Namco, and Junya Motomura, director of the game at Arc System Works, to dig a little deeper into the design of the game, see if anything players are doing with it has come as a surprise, and get some insight into FighterZ's incredible fan service.

YOU'VE SOLD 2.5M COPIES, WHICH SOUNDS FANTASTIC TO ME FOR A FIGHTING GAME. DID THAT SURPRISE YOU? HAS IT MET YOUR EXPECTATIONS?

HIROKI: To be completely honest, it was a great surprise for us that we were able to achieve 2.5m units for this title, especially because this game was a completely new franchise. But, our main objective for this title was not to achieve a certain amount of units, it was to work with Arc System Works to create a genuine fighting game based on Dragon Ball.

In terms of the units, since Dragon Ball Xenoverse 2 - a different Dragon Ball title we previously released - the series is about to reach 8m. We hope we can continue selling Dragon Ball FighterZ even more.

WHAT WOULD YOU SAY IS THE CHIEF REASON FOR THE GAME'S SUCCESS SO FAR? OBVIOUSLY IT'S GOT THE DRAGON BALL LICENCE SO IT APPEALS TO DRAGON BALL FANS, BUT IT SEEMS TO HAVE BROKEN OUT BEYOND THAT AS WELL.

HIROKI: We believe the main reason for the success is the first announcement, and also the support we have post-launch. For the first announcement, if you remember, we made it at the Microsoft media briefing. At that point we were able to deliver to users quite a surprising animated expression, as well as a genuine fighting game mechanic. We believe the fusion of these two was quite impactful for the users.

Another thing is, thanks to the help of Arc System Works, even after the release of the game we've been able to constantly listen to the voices from fans, hear their feedback and implement that into the game. We believe these two points are the main pillars of our success.

FOR ARC SYSTEM WORKS, WHAT WAS THE BIGGEST CHALLENGE YOU FACED DURING DEVELOPMENT?

MOTOMURA: The greatest challenge was to get the graphics right, so the graphics were attractive but at the same time visually readable, so it could complement the fighting game mechanics through player registration.

ONE OF THE GREAT THINGS ABOUT THE GAME IS IT STAYS TRUE TO THE ANIME. I THINK IT LOOKS BETTER THAN THE ANIME! BUT HOW DID YOU ACHIEVE THE LOOK? WHAT PROCESS DID THE DEVELOPERS GO THROUGH TO MAKE IT HAPPEN?

MOTOMURA: The foundation was already built with the Guilty Gear franchise, so we had an idea of how to achieve the anime style look prior to the project. Customising that to match the visual style Dragon Ball has was a challenge for us. Getting the character models right and then animating them in the right way was also a big challenge. But most of all, it was done through very talented animators and modellers that put quite a lot of time into making each character.

THE GAME HAS SO MUCH FAN SERVICE. EVERYTHING ABOUT IT SUGGESTS YOU UNDERSTOOD WHAT FANS LOVE ABOUT DRAGON BALL. I ASSUME YOU HAVE A LOT OF DRAGON BALL FANS ON THE TEAM, BUT DID YOU HAVE TO DRAFT IN ANY EXPERTS OR DO EXTENSIVE RESEARCH?

MOTOMURA: Everyone knows Dragon Ball, and a lot of us are fans of Dragon Ball, so we had a lot of people who were well informed about Dragon Ball, who knew the basic aspects of it. The story mode wasn't a re-telling of the original story. We had the concept that we would reference the original story within the fighting game itself - not as a story but through cutscenes and small references within the fighting game.

ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT SOME OF THE DRAMATIC FINISHES?

MOTOMURA: Yes, but also small things like Frieza's turning discs that can hit him. Those are also things we took from the original content.

FIGHTERZ MANAGES TO APPEAL TO NEWCOMERS TO FIGHTING GAMES AS WELL AS FIGHTING GAME FANS, WHICH A LOT OF FIGHTING GAMES STRUGGLE WITH. HOW DID YOU APPROACH MAINTAINING THAT BALANCE?

HIROKI: The whole concept was to reach out to the Dragon Ball fans as well, although it is a fighting game. So, we believed that in order to reach this casual fanbase, we needed to make the controls not too difficult. The fact we were able to implement a 3v3 system was one thing that helped bring in the casual users, especially because we understand Dragon Ball fans wanted to use different types of characters.

We thought that, rather than make the controls more and more difficult, we wanted to focus more on mind games, making each of the characters quite different. Another thing I realised only after the game was released is that when this game is being played for esports, the fact we were able to use easier to understand words for the specific mechanics we have for the game - so, for example, the Z Change, the Super Dash - this wasn't our main objective, but the fact we were able to use rather easy to understand words was something that worked to lower the hurdles for the casual fans.

MOTOMURA: We started out with a clear goal that we had to satisfy both the casual players and the competitive players. We had that idea from the start. Since this was a new franchise, we were able to build from the ground up without pulling anything from a series fighting game. So we were able to build from the ground up to balance the system without having to think about how we were going to satisfy the old players. That was a good positive we were working to.

Arc System Works has recently been very conscious about this problem, of the divided userbase. We were constantly trying to find a way to satisfy both of the user types. It was a result of a very long term consideration of how to achieve this playstyle.

[1]
Dragon Ball FighterZ nails the look and feel of the anime.
IN TERMS OF THE MECHANICS, WHAT'S MOST IMPORTANT IN HELPING THE GAME ACHIEVE THIS BALANCE?

MOTOMURA: One of the biggest aspects was having more freedom in the camera angles. Unlike conservative fighting games, we utilise the camera angle shift a lot in the game. That is to make a more visually appealing game. It also complements the clarity of the game to show the player what is happening from moment to moment. So, with the easy controls and the strong visual appeal, those two were the key elements in attracting the interest of more casual players.

Because it's just the controls and the visuals, that doesn't get in the way of high level playing. It doesn't ruin the competitive playing, while it complements the casual players with the easy controls and more flashy visuals.

THE GAME HAS BEEN OUT A WHILE NOW. HAS ANYTHING PLAYERS HAVE ACHIEVED WITH THE GAME SURPRISED YOU?

MOTOMURA: One thing that surprised us was how creative players were in making teams, in finding characters that cooperate with each other and have a stronger team resonance. And also, having the high level play and the competitive nature within the esports area was also very surprising. Having our favourite players consistently playing this game and having a high view rating was also very surprising. It made us happy!

YOU MENTIONED THERE ARE SOME CHARACTER COMBINATIONS THAT SURPRISED YOU. WHICH ONES, SPECIFICALLY?

MOTOMURA: One example we can say is, certain high level players using Gotenks and his assist move in a very creative way, and finding out characters who compliment him.

I LOVE THE TOUCH OF DEATH COMBOS PLAYERS HAVE DISCOVERED - EVEN WITHOUT ASSISTS. WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT THIS? DID YOU DESIGN THE GAME WITH THESE IN MIND?

MOTOMURA: We didn't want to limit the players' freedom to discover new actions. We didn't really want to put them in a box. We wanted players to have a lot of areas where they can discover by themselves. We didn't want to make it super limited.

HAVE PLAYERS TAKEN THE COMBO SYSTEM AS FAR AS IT CAN GO, NOW THE GAME HAS BEEN OUT A WHILE? OR IS THERE MORE TO DISCOVER PLAYERS HAVEN'T FOUND YET?

MOTOMURA: There are a lot of characters that are underutilised, and those characters have a lot of potential. Even the more popular characters, in combination with those underutilised characters - players may find new tactics and combos to have more fun.

AS THE DEVELOPER YOU'LL BE TRACKING THE DATA FOR THE GAME AND HOW IT'S BEING PLAYED. WHAT ARE THE MOST UNDERUSED CHARACTERS AT THE MOMENT? AND WHAT ARE THE MOST POPULAR CHARACTERS?

HIROKI: Currently Frieza is one of the not so popular characters that can be utilised more.

MOTOMURA: And Krillin!

HIROKI: Some of the top tier players are using Krillin very effectively. But the number of players overall using Krillin is quite low, so we believe there are still a lot of possibilities for combinations there.

[2]
Krillin is one of the least popular characters to use in Dragon Ball FighterZ.
WHY IS KRILLIN SO UNDERUSED? WHAT IS IT ABOUT THE CHARACTER THAT MEANS HE'S NOT BEING USED SO MUCH?

HIROKI: We believe the reason is because Krillin is leaning more towards a support character, rather than a character fighting up front. But the whole concept of this game is to be the last one standing out of the six characters who are out there. The top tier players are able to use these support skills of Krillin, but other players aren't fully able to utilise it at this point.

AT THE OTHER END OF THE SCALE, CELL IS CONSIDERED PERHAPS THE BEST CHARACTERS IN THE GAME. HE'S CERTAINLY ONE OF THE MOST POPULAR. WERE YOU SURPRISED CELL ROSE TO THE TOP?

MOTOMURA: We never make any character designed to be the strongest. But Cell being one of the more standard characters and a very straightforward in a way character, he was very popular from the beginning and was used a lot. Being used a lot means the character's techniques and mechanics are developed quite early. That's one of the aspects that makes him one of the stronger characters at the moment. We believe other characters can also get to his level if they have enough development.

WHAT'S THE PLAN FOR FUTURE BALANCE UPDATES? DO YOU CONSIDER THE GAME TO BE WELL-BALANCED AT THE MOMENT, OR ARE THERE AREAS OF THE GAME YOU'D LIKE TO TARGET?

HIROKI: We believe the more players who join the fight, the more the way players fight will change as we go along. At this point in time, we believe we have a good balance. But, obviously this will change as the way players fight changes. There are a lot of under utilised characters, so as the techniques of these characters continue to develop, we need to continuously balance the game.

YOU'RE WORKING THROUGH SEASON PASS ONE OF DLC CHARACTERS. DOES THE IMPRESSIVE SUCCESS OF THE GAME MEAN YOU'RE THINKING ABOUT LONGER TERM SUPPORT, PERHAPS WITH NEW CHARACTERS PAST SEASON ONE?

HIROKI: At this point in time we don't have anything detailed set in stone. But we want to continue supporting the game for a long period of time.

question: How many copies of Dragon Ball FighterZ were sold at the time of this interview?

answer: 2.5 million copies.

question: What kind of game is it?

answer: It is a fighting game.

question: What are some features of the game that attracted fans?

answer: Easy controls and the strong visual appeal

question: Were the producer and director surprised by anything their fans were doing with the game?

answer: They were surprised by how creative players were in making teams, in finding characters that cooperate and have a stronger team resonance.

question: What features have they implemented into the game after they heard the fan's feedback?

answer: Information not found.

question: Write a ~1 sentence summary.

answer: The text is an interview with the producer and director of Dragon Ball FighterZ, a game released by Arc System Works.


text:
&#x200B;

Hi, thank you for taking the time to look at my writing. This is the first thing I have written for a very long time due to significant health issues. It is written for a particular purpose, the retirement of the head teacher of my children's school. He has supported me and my children through my health issues and tonight, during a rare quiet moment, the idea of writing a short story for him popped into my head. He won't retire until July so I have plenty of time to redraft and therefore would be grateful for any comments received.

Thank you

Not the end

His hand closed around the handle of his office door. He couldn’t have guessed, if he had tried to, that it would be this moment in particular that would hurl him back to his first ever day, not just as a head teacher, but his very first day teaching. He might have thought it would happen when he woke that morning, full of expectation, relief and some anxiety about the day ahead. He might have thought it would happen in the car, the journey was always a time of quiet and a place where he could think before the ever unraveling chaos of each unpredictable day began. He might have thought it would happen as he sat at the desk in the office that had been his space for the last few years The smell of coffee in the air, surrounded by papers, folders and an egg laying chicken, waiting for the day to begin. But no, it was happening now, as his hand gave the familiar amount of pressure to allow the door to open as his final day as head teacher, his final day as teacher, began.

As the memory formed, surfacing in his mind from some deep place, he recreated in an instant the smell of the building. He could see the faces of the people who had welcomed him into the school, blurry as some of them were now, 32 years on.

He wondered whether any of them ever thought about how many of them he remembered. Faces or names, sometimes both. Mostly he remembered their stories. And it was with this thought that he realised, something he had known before but had perhaps forgotten, that he was a part of their stories. How much had this played a part in his decision to teach in the first place? It didn’t matter now, of course, what the reasons were. But in thinking about the reasons he chose this career, this path for his life, he was able to conjure images of the story telling, the songs, the expectant faces.

He looked at them differently today. Each single face representing the hundreds of children to have come through his door. Each single face a thousand stories, a thousand bleeding knees, a thousand tears turned to first a smile and then, sometimes, some laughter. He could hold that, when he missed it. Sometimes all he could feel was the relief that this day would finally come and his time would be entirely for himself. But it was inevitable that such a large part of his life being gone would leave a vacuum. What a privilege to have such stories, such children, families and colleagues to fill that vacuum with.

As for them, they looked at him differently too. Each one wondering if they would be one of the ones he remembered. If they were part of his story, like he was a part of theirs. When your story is a part of the lives of children, then even at the end, it cannot really be the end.

So here is where we will leave him, at not the end of his story and at not the end of anyone else’s either.

title: [RF] Not the end

question: What is it that the headteacher mostly remembers about his pupils?

answer: Sometimes he remembers names or faces, but what he most remembers is their stories.

question: What is the moment that hurls him back to his first day of teaching?

answer: It is the beginning of the day as he opens the door.

question: What would he hold onto when he missed the teaching?

answer: He would hold onto the memories of the children over the year, the smiles, the laughter.

question: What is the vacuum to which the headteacher refers?

answer: It is all the time that he will have without the daily work that once occupied him at school.

question: Why did he look at all the faces looking at him today from a different perspective?

answer: He felt that they represented all the thousands of children, families, and colleagues that had passed through the school.

question: What is the conclusion of the story?

answer: That his retirement is not the end of the story. Nor is it the end of anyone else's.


text:
The MAGISTRATES COURT OF THE AUSTRALIAN CAPITAL TERRITORY is a court of summary jurisdiction that deals with the majority of criminal law matters and the majority of small civil law matters in the Australian Capital Territory, the Jervis Bay Territory and the Australian Antarctic Territory.[1]

The current Chief Magistrate is Lorraine Walker, appointed with effect from 13 October 2011.[2] However, Magistrate Glenn Theakston has been appointed Acting Chief Magistrate due to Walker's 12-month appointment as an Acting Judge of the Supreme Court.[3] Currently eight magistrates and one special magistrate assist the Chief Magistrate in hearing matters before the Court.[4][5]

The court is located on Knowles Place near London Circuit at Civic, in Canberra, in the ACT Law Courts building that it shares with the Supreme Court of the Australian Capital Territory opened in 2019.[6][7]

History

The court originated as the Court of Petty Sessions in 1930.[8] It was the Territory's first court and Acton House was the first courthouse.[9]

Previously, Territorians were required to travel to Queanbeyan, Goulburn or Cooma to have their legal matters heard.[10] Under the _Seat of Government Acceptance Act_, state or federal courts had jurisdiction to settle legal disputes arising within the Territory.[11] Due to the small number of matters that went before the Police Court in Queanbeyan and the District Court, this situation initially worked well.[12]

In 1926, Robert Garran (then Secretary of the Attorney-General's Department) recommended building a permanent courthouse in the Territory or, if that was not economically viable, then temporary courtrooms.[13] The Federal Capital Commission was unsympathetic to both suggestions.[14] In 1929, Acton House was accepted by Attorney-General John Latham as a suitable building from which the Court of Petty Sessions could conduct legal proceedings.[15] The building was refurbished and converted for court use the same year.[16]

In July 1930, the Court of Petty Sessions Ordinance 1930 was gazetted; the Court of Petty Sessions was established on 25 November of that year.[17] Despite creation of the new court, the Territory still depended on visiting Magistrates until 1949, when FC Keane was appointed as the Territory's first resident Magistrate.[18] Prior to this, magistrates appointed by the Government of New South Wales who also held permanent appointments in either or were responsible for the court.[19] In 1974, Charles Kilduff became the Territory's inaugural Chief Magistrate.[20]

In time, the court's civil and criminal jurisdiction increased. From a base of £200 in the early years, the court could then settle civil proceedings up to $50,000.[21] And it could then deal with criminal offences that have a maximum penalty of two years' imprisonment or less and, with respect to Commonwealth matters, 12 months' imprisonment or less.[22] This has since increased.

Like the Supreme Court, the Court of Petty Sessions occupied several locations including the Acton Hotel in 1940 and Civic in April 1946.[23] It remained in Civic until 1963, when it relocated to the Law Courts Building it shared with the Supreme Court in Knowles Place, Civic.[24] The building was officially opened by Prime Minister Robert Menzies on 8 May 1963.[25] The Court of Petty Sessions was renamed the Magistrates Court on 1 February 1986.[26]

By the 1980s, as the workload of both courts increased, problems with accommodating both the Supreme Court and the Magistrates Court in the one building became more apparent.[27] Construction of a new Magistrates Court building, adjacent to the existing Law Courts Building, started in October 1994 and was completed in 1996.[28]

In 2019, stage one of construction was completed on a new building that joins the Supreme Court and the Magistrates Court into one building known as the ACT Law Courts precinct.[29][30]

Jurisdiction

The territorial jurisdiction of the Magistrates Court encompasses the entirety of the Australian Capital Territory and the Jervis Bay Territory. Under the _Jervis Bay Acceptance Act_ _1915_ (Cth),[31] the laws of the Australian Capital Territory apply in that particular area. Magistrates from the ACT travel to Jervis Bay Village on a regular basis to hold court for the region.

The Magistrates Court is established under, and has jurisdiction under, the _Magistrates Court Act 1930_ (ACT).[32]

It has a summary jurisdiction to deal with most criminal offences.[33] Criminal offences which carry a maximum term of imprisonment of two years or less, or for Commonwealth offences one year or less, must be heard by a magistrate. Some offences may be heard in either the Magistrates Court or the Supreme Court.

It also has jurisdiction to hear civil cases that are between $25,000 and $250,000 in value, although it cannot hear cases in which the title to land is in dispute. Any amount in dispute under $25,000 is dealt with by the ACT Civil and Administrative Tribunal.[34]

It also has jurisdiction to deal with family violence orders, personal protection orders and workplace protection orders.[35]

The Children's Court is a division within the Magistrates Court that hears matters involving children or young people, either for criminal matters or care and protection matters.[36]

The Coroner's Court is another division within the Magistrates Court that investigates violent or unnatural deaths, suspicious fires and/or explosions, but it cannot make orders to punish offenders.[37] All magistrates are coroners by virtue of their appointment and special magistrates may also be appointed coroners.[38]

The Industrial Court is another division that has jurisdiction to deal with criminal and civil matters arising out of industrial or work safety contexts.[39]

Magistrates are also justices of the peace by virtue of their appointment as a magistrate.[40]

Composition

The court is constituted by either magistrates or special magistrates.[41] Generally, magistrates sit alone. A special magistrates may also constitute the court.[42]

Magistrates and special magistrates are appointed by the executive.[43] Magistrates and special magistrates must retire at 70 years of age.[44]

The executive must also appoint a Chief Magistrate.[45] The Chief Magistrate is responsible for the prompt discharge of the court's business, and may in consultation with a magistrate, decide the types of cases which a magistrate will hear.[46]

Membership

Chief Magistrate

  Name                               Date appointed   Term in office   Notes
  ---------------------------------- ---------------- ---------------- -------
  Chief Magistrate Lorraine Walker                                     [47]

Magistrates

  Name                         Date appointed   Term in office   Notes
  ---------------------------- ---------------- ---------------- -------
  Magistrate Beth Campbell                                       [48]
  Magistrate Peter Morrison
  Magistrate Bernadette Boss
  Magistrate Robert Cook
  Magistrate Glenn Theakston
  Magistrate Louise Taylor
  Magistrate James Lawton      6 May 2019
  Magistrate James Stewart     6 May 2019

Special Magistrates

  Name                                 Date appointed   Term in office   Notes
  ------------------------------------ ---------------- ---------------- -------
  Special Magistrate Margaret Hunter   21 May 2014                       [49]

Process

Commencing cases

Criminal cases are usually commenced by laying an information before a magistrate. An information is similar to a complaint or a charge. The magistrate may then either issue a summons for the defendant to attend court voluntarily or may issue a warrant for his or her arrest.

In serious cases, police officers may arrest a person and bring them directly before the magistrate. In any case, the person may be remanded in custody or may be released on bail. Depending on the seriousness of the crime, the magistrate may sentence the person if found guilty, or may commit the person for trial to the Supreme Court.

Hearings are heard in open court unless there is a law or a good reason for the matter to be heard in closed court.

Appeals

In certain circumstances, decisions made by the Magistrates Court may be appealed to the Supreme Court of the Australian Capital Territory. The Magistrates Court does not hear matters on appeal.

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[8]  [] This article contains quotations from this source, which is available under the Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Australia license.

[9]

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[17]

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[31] [http://www.comlaw.gov.au/ComLaw/Legislation/ActCompilation1.nsf/0/4610F83FA8208F32CA256F71004C5B24/$file/JervBayTerrAcc15.pdf_Jervis Bay Acceptance Act_ 1915 (Cth)]

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[49]

title: Magistrates Court of the Australian Capital Territory

question: What does the text say about criminal matters?

answer: The Magistrates Court of the Australian Capital Territory is a court of summary jurisdiction that deals with the majority of criminal law matters. After 1974, the court's civil and criminal jurisdiction increased and the court was able to deal with criminal offences with a maximum penalty of two years. Now cases with a maximum penalty of two years need to be seen by a magistrate. There are several divisions within the Magistrates Court that deal with variations of criminal matters. Children's Court deals with criminal matters involving children or young people. The Industrial Court works with criminal or civil matters arising out of industrial or work safety contexts. The Coroner's Court investigates violent or unnatural deaths, and suspicious fires or explosions. The text also goes into detail about how criminal cases go forward. These cases are usually commenced by laying an information (a complaint or charge) before a magistrate

question: Summarize everything that happened in 2019.

answer: In 2019, stage one of construction was completed on a new building that joins the Supreme Court and the Magistrates Court into one building known as ACT Law Courts precinct. It opened the same year. In May, Magistrate James Lawton and Magistrate James Stewart were appointed to office.

question: Summarize everything that happened in the 1930s.

answer: On November 25, 1930 the Magistrates Court of the Australian Capital Territory was originated as the Court of Petty Sessions, the Territory's first court. This came after July 1930, when the Court of Petty Sessions Ordinance was gazetted. At this time, the Territory still depended on visiting Magistrates. This didn't change until 1949.

question: What does the text say about Australia's current prime minister?


text:
My shoes clacked on the pavement as I walked down the street, echoing down the empty neighborhood which was devoid of life save for the infrequent car driven by a half-drunken lout on his way home from a late night at the bar. No one in their right mind would be out. It was 4:03 in the morning, windy, and rainy; and I wasn’t in my right mind.
I was clad in my best attire, a white shirt with a black tie, my black pants, a brown belt and brown shoes. I had only ever worn this outfit once, at my parents’ funeral when I was 13. The outfit always sat at the back of my closet because of the painful memories it contained, but that night was significant. That was my night of deliverance.
I squinted through the rain attempting to see my guide. He was fast even though he was practically skin and bone. He wore all black which made it even harder to see him, although it did help that he held a brown brief case in his left hand, which was at least partially visible in the night. I saw him run across the road and tentatively I followed. When I reached the other side I stood at the top of a small hill with a muddy path leading into the woods. I caught sight of him just before he entered the woods. Trying not to slip on the steep slope, I ambled down after him. As I crossed the field, memories came flooding back as I remembered this field. My dog was buried there. He was killed by the neighborhood kids with a slingshot and a stone one day when he was in the backyard. With a sudden compulsion, I walked to his headstone. I rubbed the engraving and got back on the path to the woods.
My guide was facing me when I entered the woods. He was a few hundred feet ahead of me on the path. When he saw me, he raised his left arm and pointed to his wrist, gesturing to his watch. I knew he was right. We were on a strict schedule and we needed to hurry. As he turned to walk farther into the woods, the rain picked up, falling on us in great globs that made a plunking noise when they fell on us. My teeth began to chatter as the new bout of cold rain soaked through my clothes. For a moment, I thought of turning around and going home. I thought of going back to bed and waking up the next morning, eating breakfast with my aunt and uncle. But I sublimated my thoughts. I was too weak, always too weak to face the next day. My guide had almost delivered me. I was almost Home.
I passed the trees whose boughs told the endless stories of decades past that remained no more in living memory. I thought of the forgotten people who walked in these woods before me. I thought of the people who would be forgotten that have yet to walk under them. Even as I did, I knew I would be remembered.
I crossed the woods in mere minutes, easily. The terrain was both small and easy to traverse. That was not the hardest part of the journey. Each step I took weighed heavily on my heart. But even as such, I began to feel weightless, free, in control. This was my decision. This was my task. This was my deliverance.
As I walked out of the woods, I saw my final destination. The shack sat at the end of the field casting a golden light on the field. It was inviting and warm, but I had to cross the field first. My guide stood in the doorway, and as I began to walk across the water logged grass, he walked inside. In my peripheries I saw the faces of my brothers. I wasn’t to take this walk alone. They were here to help me, to give me the help that they never had. They were, in that moment, my counselors, my friends, my companions. As I approached the shack, I began to feel tears stream down my face. They mingled with the rain and dripped off of my chin. I didn’t know if they were tears of joy or sadness, but I did not care. I had arrived at the door.
I knocked three times and my guide opened the door. He looked at me with hungry eyes as he put his hands around my shoulders and led me in the room. “Now, now.” He said in a raspy voice. “Do not cry. You have made it to deliverance.” He sat me down on a couch and walked over to a table. He opened his brief case with a loud clack and walked back to me. Sitting down next to me, he pushed a silver pistol into my hands and whispered, “Shh, no tears, only dreams now.”

title: [MF] Deliverance

question: Does the narrator kill himself?

question: How did the narrator's parents die?

question: Summarize the narrator's walk in the woods.

answer: The narrator navigates through the woods with the help of his guide. The rain poured heavily making the path muddy. As he walks through the woods, it reminds him of his dog who was shot by the neighborhood kid and buried in these same woods. The narrator walks to his headstone and rubs the engraving before continuing his journey. He thinks about all the people who must have walked through these woods and may now be forgotten. They finally reach the other end of the woods.

question: What emotions does the narrator feel when he reaches his destination?

answer: When the narrator reaches, he sees his brothers. Tears start to stream down his face as he starts walking towards the shack. He can't really distinguish whether they are tears of joy or sadness and neither does he care to know.


text:
*I'm sure I close the closet door alot more than I ever open it.*

This thought perplexed me as I reversed my car, headed to another monotonous day of work. I was a single 24 year old, who lived alone, didn't have any pets and very few friends. Strangely enough though, the closet door wasn't the only odd thing that had been happening over the last couple of weeks. I found many a thing not where I left it. The TV was on and on mute when I came back home the other day. My chicken sandwich had disappeared from the fridge this morning.

*What could possibly be causing this?*

I dwelled on it as I continued my drive to work, and then  suddenly a solution came to mind.

*Screw it. I'm gona find out once and for all.*

I slammed on my brakes, bringing the car to  a screeching halt. I did quick U turn and start heading back home. A few minutes later I pulled into my driveway, stopped my car and quickly walked to the door. Unlocking it and closing it behind me, I walked upstairs and into my bedroom only to be greeted by a familiar sight.

It had happened again.

The closet door was open.

I decided to put my plan into action. Closing the closet door first, I hurried over to my bedside drawers and opened the top draw, pulling out a black small bag. Unzipping it, I pulled out my video camera. I turned it on and positioned it on my bed, making sure that it can see the closet. I pressed the record button and then carefully positioned some dirty clothes over it, obscuring it from view, yet making sure that the lens wasn't blocked either.

My plan accomplished, I headed back downstairs, locked the door and hopped back into my car. Sure I was going to be late for work, but this was worth it.

            ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The day passed like any other day at work.

Paperwork, paperwork, and more paperwork. Boss comes by to check on my progress, and starts asking questions. Yes Sir. No Sir. Three bags full sir.

Toilet.

Coffee break.

Repeat.

But what really was on my mind the whole day, was that video camera lying on my bed.

*What will the video camera catch on film?*

The thought plagued me as the hours slowly and painfully inched by. The hands of clock finally struck five, after what seemed like an eternity, and my day at work was finished. I walked very quickly through the office, needing to get home as soon as possible. I could see out of the corner of my eye that some of my co-workers were raising their eyebrows in amusement at the hurriedness of my pace, but I didnt care. I needed to see what that video camera recorded.

Workcard punched.

Crowded elevator.

Underground carpark.

Car keys in my hand.

Unlock my car.

Engine started.

Pedal to the metal.

My car shot out of the underground carpark and onto the road. I was probably speeding now that I think of it, but at the time, speeding was the least of my worries.

*What will the video camera catch on film?*

I pulled onto the onramp for the motorway, it usually being the fastest way home.

*Fuck.*

I had forgotten about the traffic. Cars lined the motorway, slowly inching along every few seconds. Everyone was trying to do what I was doing... Trying to get home.

             ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun had set by the time I finally pulled onto the street that I lived on. It had taken me a good hour and a half to get home through that congested motorway, and to make things even worse, it seemed like the power was out for the whole suburb.

*Stupid electricity companies doing work at the worst times. Typical.*

I pulled into my drive, hopped out and almost ran to my front door. Unlocking it and closing it behind me,  I flicked on the light switch. Nothing happened. I let out a heavy sigh, as I remembered that the power is down. Stumbling in the dark, my hands outstretched feeling for the walls, I finally make it to my kitchen cupboards. My hand grasped blindly in the dark, trying to feel for the box of matches and  candles that I knew was there in the top shelf. Or at least, was meant to be in there.

*Please. Please, still be here...Aah, got them.*

Finally feeling them, I grabbed them both and after a few minutes managed to start lighting candles. Leaving one candle flickering by the front door, I lit another one and my way upstairs. To my bedroom. Stepping through the doorframe, I squinted trying to see in the low light whether the closet door was open or closed.

*Thank God.*

The closet door was closed. Just as I had left it. This, at least was a good sign. Heading over to the bed, I pulled of the clothes and looked for my video camera. It was also just where I left it. It was still even recording. I stopped and then saved the recording, and then I hit play.

I was glued to the screen, expecting to see some ghost to appear on the video recording.  A minute passed. Nothing happened. Then two, then three. I started fast forwarding it.

Still nothing.

*Maybe there was nothing after all.*

Then suddenly something flashed across the screen in the video recording. I held my breath in anticipation , but the fast forwarding was too fast and I couldn't see anything but a blur. I immediately rewound it and pressed play, and what I saw made my body freeze in terror.

A man had walked into my bedroom, opened the closet door, got inside, and closed the closet door.

*HOLY FUCK!*

*Screw ringing the police! I have to get out of my house.. NOW!*

Still holding the video camera, my legs lept into action. I raced out of my bedroom and down the stairs. Almost skidding on the floor, I turned while running, heading for the front door.  And then I froze.

There was a man blocking the door.

In his hands lay my metal baseball bat. A grin escaped his lips as he uttered but a single sentence.

"Did you think you were alone in the dark?"

title: The Closet Door

question: Summarize the story's plot twist.

answer: The narrator had always wondered why their closet door was always left open, even when they were certain they always kept it shut. The narrator also noticed that whenever they went out, they'd find their things displaced when they returned, like their TV left on and on mute and their chicken sandwich eaten. The narrator had had enough. So one day, they placed a video recorder to record the strange happenings in their house. As they returned from work, they watched the videotape to find out what it had captured and were mortified when the camera showed a man enter their closet. Terrified, the narrator tries to flee their house but is stopped by the strange man, blocking their front door and holding their metal baseball bat.

question: Was the man familiar with the narrator before breaking into her house?

question: What were the man's intentions towards the narrator?

answer: Possibly, the man intends to harm the narrator. That the man sneaks into the narrator's house to watch TV, eat their food, and hide out in their closet, is evidence of this behavior. A lack of adequate protection in their neighborhood makes it more probable that the man can slip into another individual's home undetected. There are two possibilities: Either the man plans to kill the narrator and take over the house as the story concludes, or he may have been a fugitive and intends to keep hiding in the house for refuge.


text:
He had always wondered what it would feel like to die.

Going into the War, watching his friends and comrades fade from this world, watching them fall before bullet and disease, like wheat before a scythe, he had wondered how it would feel to leave this world: screaming or silent; in pain or at peace; begging for mercy, or cursing and hateful.

It was a curious thing, to think about one’s own demise; to be aware that one’s life will, inevitably, end. Yet still he pondered, even as he fought in the trenches, bullets and dirt flying past his face, how it would feel to simply... go.

But now he knew, as he gazed across the horizon watching the waves of heat rising across the baked sand, his feet as heavy as he trudged across the barren land, that this is Death.

Death is not pain, not agony, not fear and hurt followed by a gentle, caressing, descent into a blissful and endless sleep. Nor is Death sadness and regret, a time of rueful reflection as you say everything you wished you had said, to those you wished to have said it to. Nor, for that matter, is Death peaceful, a gentle, tranquil time where you can simply pass, at peace with the knowledge that you have accomplished that which you were able.

No, Death is none of these things. These feeling, these thoughts, were reserved for the time before Death. But in Death, in the final seconds before one’s life ends, there is but one thing you feel, and one thing only:

Weary.

Indeed, that is how he felt, as sand caked his face and wormed its way into his eyes and mouth, simply, weary.

He did not feel regret; though he knew he should’ve held his wife just that little bit tighter, given her just one more kiss, told her he loved her just one more time.

He did not feel anger; he did not beat against the ground and scream Why? Why me! The world would carry on without him, and there was naught that fear and hate would accomplish.

He did not feel sadness; but he might have had he known he was a father.

No, he felt none of these things. These were not the thoughts that occupied the mind of the man in the throes of death, for his weariness encompassed everything, enveloping him in a blanket of emptiness, smoothing over the highs and lows of his emotions, and leaving nothing but a blank, flat, smooth slate.

He would die out here, indeed, he was in the final minutes, the last seconds, of his life. He cared not what would come after; he had never been a religious man, but knew that he would deserve whatever came. Nor did he dwell on what had come before; he had done his duty to his country, served it to the best of his ability. He had loved his wife with all his heart, and cared for his mother and father, even when they no longer recognized his face.

No, he saw no reason to dwell on any of these things. All he felt was his skin burning, slowly, as the merciless sun beat down on him. And his weariness, so constant, so unwavering, that it had become like a weight upon his back.

One which, eventually, brought him to his hands and knees, panting, and sweating on the sand. Distantly, he felt a drop drip down his nose, tickling him . It reached the end and clung there, on the tip of his nose, before dripping off. He watched it, seeing it fall, before falling himself.

He had heard that in the final moments a person’s life, their entire life flashes before their eyes. He waited, expecting this slideshow of memories to appear at any moment, in the hope that he would be able to see his wife’s face just... one more time.

His eyes closed, he waited.

His body limp, he waited.

Weary to his bones, he waited.

title: [MF] Waiting

question: What does the story say about death?

answer: The narrator is dying. He remembers watching lots of friends and comrades dying to bullets or disease. He's curious about how it will feel. He doesn't feel pain, sadness, anger, fear, hurt, or regret. He feels extremely weary, however, and his only wish is to see his wife again. As death approaches, he waits to see whether his memories will come to him one by one. It's implied that that never happens, and he just passes away.

question: What does the story say about how to live forever?