Northern Lights Casino (Walker) - 2020 All You Need to ...

COVID-19 Megathread #6

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COVID-19 has now infected more than 215,956 people. There have been 8,757 confirmed deaths and 84,080 confirmed recoveries attributed to the virus.
 
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Tracking COVID-19
 
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submitted by hoosakiwi to news [link] [comments]

[MOD] Universal Wasteland Expansion Mod Has Been Updated

Just released a new update for my Universal Wasteland Expansion mod. The update was a rather expansive update, with many aspects of the game being touched upon.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________ The "What Happens in Shark..." update is as follows:
  1. Find the Lady (Thieves Guild Towers) (Bars Throughout Map)
  2. Roulette (Blackshifters Casino)
  3. Cho-Han (Blackshifters Casino)
  4. Janken (Thieves Guild) (Bars Throughout Map)
  5. Kitsune Bakuchi (Blackshifters Casino)
  6. Gutter Bonedog (Thieves Guild) (Blackshifters Casino)
  7. Over-Under 7 (Blackshifters Casino)
  8. Heads or Tails (Thieves Guild) (Bars Throughout Map)
  9. Craps (Blackshifters Casino)
  10. Higher Lower (Blackshifters Casino)
  11. Swamp Raptor Race Betting (Swampers’ Run Racetrack)
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Steam Link
Nexus Link
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Enjoy.
submitted by TreadLighty77 to Kenshi [link] [comments]

Do You Have to Pay Taxes on Slot Machine Winnings?

We all love to read stories about big wins and imagine ourselves in the shoes of those winners. But, have you ever thought about what happens at that very moment after successfully beating the slot machine? Usually, the slot machine locks up and, in most cases, you hear the music and see the flashing lights on top of the machine. But one of the first questions every player asks is whether they have to pay taxes on casino winnings? Well, you’re about to find out!

Taxes on Slot Machine Winnings in USA

In the USA, when a lucky player hits a jackpot, there’s the option of receiving the winnings in cash or check. In case it’s a large sum, it’s usually paid by check. However, the IRS only obliges the casinos to report winnings that are larger than $1,200.
Of course, all winners are obliged to show a proper identification— a valid ID or passport. When the casino checks for your identification they also look at your age to make sure you are officially and legally old enough to play. As the minimum legal age for gambling varies from state to state, be sure to check it out before you decide to play.

Do I Have to Report All Winnings?

All gambling winnings received from slot machines are subject to federal taxes, and both cash and non-cash winnings (like a car or a vacation) are fully taxable. Apart from slot machines, the same applies to winnings from lottery, bingo, keno, poker or other games of chance. So, if the amount won on a slot machine is higher than $1200, the casino is required to report it. In other words, all your gambling winnings have to be reported on your tax return as "other income" on Schedule 1 (Form 1040), line 8.

Slot Machine Winnings in W-2G Form

In case it happens to you and you snag that big win (which we hope one day you will), it’s useful to know that casino or other payer must give you a W-2G Form, listing your name, address and Social Security number. So, if the winnings are reported through a W-2G Form, federal taxes will be withheld at a rate of 25%.
If, however, you didn’t provide your Social Security number (or your Tax Identification Number), in that case the withholding will be 28%. Either way, a copy of your Form W-2G should be issued, showing the amount you won alongside the amount of tax withheld. One copy needs to go to the IRS, as well.
Aside from slot winnings, Form W-2G is issued to winners of the following types of gambling activities like:
However, not all gambling winnings are subject to IRS Form W2-G. For instance, W2-G forms are not required for winnings from table games like blackjack, baccarat, and roulette, whatever the amount. You’d still have to report your winnings to the IRS, it’s just you won’t need to do it through W-2G Form.

Are My Slot Losses Deductible?

The good news is that you can deduct your slot losses (line 28 of Schedule A, Form 1040), while the bad news is gambling losses are deductible only up to the amount of your wins. In other words, you can use your losses to compensate for your winnings. So, let’s say you won $200 on one bet, but you lost $400 on one or a few others, you can only deduct the first $200 of losses. Meaning if you didn’t win anything for a year, you won’t be able to deduct any of your gambling losses.
In order to prove your losses, you need to keep good records and have suitable documents. So, whenever you lose, keep those losing tickets, cancelled checks and credit slips. Your documentation must include the amount you won or lost, a date and time, type of wager, type of your gambling activity, name of each casino/address of each casino you visited and the location of their gambling business. You may as well list the people who were with you.

Do State and Local Taxes Apply Separately?

Yes, you are required to pay your state or local taxes on your gambling winnings. In case you travel to another state, and snag some huge winning combo there, that other state would want to tax your winnings too. But don’t worry, you won't be taxed twice, as the state where you reside needs to give you a tax credit for the taxes you pay to that other state.
Keep in mind though that some states like Connecticut, Massachusetts, and Ohio don't allow gambling losses.

Online Slot Taxes

Whether you usually spin the reels of your favourite casino games in land-based casinos in the US, overseas casinos, or online casinos, all income for the citizens of the US is taxable. As a US citizen, you are required to send Form W2G for all winnings from a slot machine (not reduced by the wager) that equals to or is more than $1,200.

Taxes on Slot Machine Winnings in UK

As a resident of the United Kingdom, your gambling winnings won’t be taxed. Unlike the USA mentioned above, you’ll be allowed to keep whatever it is that you have won and earned in Britain, even in case you are a poker pro. Then again, you won’t be able to deduct any losses you might collect.
It doesn’t really matter if you win £5 or £5 million playing online slots, your winnings will be tax-free as long as you reside anywhere in the UK, be that in England, Wales, Northern Ireland or Scotland.

Taxes on Slot Machine Winnings in Canada

If you are a recreational player who lives in Canada, we have good news for you. When it comes to gambling, you don't have to pay taxes as your winnings are totally tax free. According to laws in Canada, gambling activities don’t fall under the category of constant source of income, therefore your winnings will not be taxed.
Canadians don't even pay taxes on their lottery winnings. The only exception here are professional gamblers who make a living from betting and are, therefore, obliged to pay taxes. Keep in mind though, this is the current situation - laws in Canada change frequently, which may also include tax laws.

Taxes on Slot Machine Winnings in Australia

In case you reside in Australia and like to visit casinos from time to time, you’ll be happy to find out that your winnings in Australia will not taxed and here are 3 core reasons for that:
Of course, taxation varies from state to state.

Taxes on Slot Machine Winnings in New Zealand

Unlike in Australia, where even professional players can claim they are recreational, in New Zealand slot machine winnings (and any other winnings from casino games) are considered taxable income, in case the player has little income from other resources.
But, apart from professional gambling, it is very unusual for winnings to be taxed in New Zealand. Most often, gambling is considered recreational and not income, so players can enjoy their gameplay as they do not have to pay taxes on their winnings.
submitted by askgamblers-official to onlinegambling [link] [comments]

JoJo's Bizarre Adventure OC Tournament #5: Round 1 Match 26: Arpeggi VS Nalksi

The results are in for Match 24.
Both sides were starting to show signs of exhaustion. Max, no matter what he did, couldn’t push back the titaness in front of him who was looking much worse for wear physically, yet was still standing strong.
10
[Work It] whipped out one of its wrappings and Elliot made a launch for the lever. Max intercepted, using his own body weight and his stand as a deterrent, but to no avail against the unstoppable force that was Elliott.
Crash!
They both went flying to the front of the trolley, Elliott powering through the electric current passing through her, while Max himself was effectively pinned by Elliott’s arm and the front wall.
A struggle ensued, feeling like it lasted for an eternity. Slowly but surely, Elliott managed to get a wrapping around the lever, and was pulling it towards her.
The trolley kept speeding along.
Time felt as if it was going in slow motion, and the trolley was heading towards the museum when the lever flipped all the way. However, the back wheels had yet to pass the intersection.
The two fighters were launched towards the door as momentum suddenly shifted. The trolley derailed, flipping end over end. Forgetting about the fight, Elliot and Max, were holding each other and onto whatever they could find for dear life.
“CRACK”
“CRACK”
The trolley had crashed through a large glass panel, its own windows starting to shatter from the impact. Now sliding along the ground at a quickly decreasing speed, the trolley made its way through its final destination, the hall in which Los Fortuna’s largest fruit cart and glass panel convention was being held, with a loud CRACK! THUD! CRASH!
Commotion could be heard outside and a man could be heard yelling about his precious produce. The two released their grip from each other, Max having had his ribcage slightly crushed and Elliott having had her hair singed on top of the other injuries they had both suffered in their fight.
Max coughed and made a weak smile, still slightly out of breath, “I think… we can call this...a draw.”
Elliott just weakly nodded, less winded but still woozy, “Yeah, maybe we can go get dinner together. Call it my apology for this whole thing.”
“I’ll… Consider it,” Max answered, thankful at least that nobody seemed to be physically injured by the crash.
The match is a draw, with both parties earning a score of 71!
Category Winner Point Totals Comments
Popularity Baker Street Rat Pack 17-13
Quality Baker Street Rat Pack 23-20 Reasoning
JoJolity Sharp Lookers 21-28 Reasoning
Conduct Tie 10-10
Elliot and Max, despite everything, had a decent time of things, a sort of respect having mutually come of their shows of force in the brief runaway trolley trip, and when the time came for them to part ways, it was on decent terms, even if in the long run the methods of their teams were still so very radically different.
However, even as for once in the manmade islands that were Downtown Los Fortuna, nobody else was discovered to have died today, the pair were not the only ones to have had their eyes on the trolley.
Some saw in the crash opportunity, while others saw further reaffirmation of all that they stood for and deemed necessary.
The problem of the trolley has been resolved in this delicious way, but elsewhere, other vehicles speed out of control. In the furthest-off mountains of the Metropolitan Outskirts, two pairs fight in their cars, protected by the Angel they were pursuing.
Scenario:
An alleyway on the northern edge of Sound’s Garden, 7:34 PM
With a loud thud, Arpeggi Osso Buco slammed the head of a mugger into a wall, standing by some sort of small, barely-legal casino. The mugger had come up to him and demanded money at knifepoint, likely to fund his gambling addiction or something like that. The mugger had no idea what he was up against, swiftly getting disarmed and defeated, Arpeggi not even needing to bring out NEXT LEVEL.
“Arpeggi, calm down. This anger isn’t helping you fight better - it’s making you reckless. What would you have done if your opponent had a stand? You have to remain cautious and prepared for all eventualities.” NEXT LEVEL chided once the fight was over. “Yeah, yeah, I know, and I’m trying, but… Whatever. I’ll do better next time.” Arpeggi responded, NEXT LEVEL clearly not content with the response.
As usual, Arpeggi was tired, stressed, and more than mildly annoyed even before the mugger’s attack. Somehow, since he came to the city, the rate of people who tried to mug him in random alleyways around the city had seemed to drastically increase, and he was sick of it. Perhaps he needed to avoid alleyways altogether. Then again, he had come to Sound’s Garden to dish out some vigilante justice for such people, so maybe sticking to alleyways was the right call.
Though he had only been in Los Fortuna for a couple of months, it didn’t take long for Arpeggi to realize that focusing more on Sound’s Garden during his stints as a vigilante would be a good idea. He’d caught onto faint rumors of underground fighting rings and other such places, contract killers and bizarre games which his allies brushed perilously against and barely survived, but even when ignoring the district’s underground he found plenty of work to keep him busy.
With a sigh, he began making his way out the alleyway, before hearing a rustling from behind him. Someone was there. Quickly turning around, he spotted a figure moving through the alleyway at a distance, and then disappearing into a wall. It was cast in shadow, and yet he could tell that there was something… off, about it. It was almost humanoid, distorted and warped, and through the shadow, it had a red, almost fleshlike color. Moreover, he couldn’t help but notice the pungent smell it gave off.
“... Nex, suit me up.” Arpeggi quietly said, taking slow steps towards where he last spotted the figure. After transforming, and with NEXT LEVEL forming around him, Arpeggi made his way over, remaining alert and keeping a fighting stance, prepared for any sudden attack. Reaching the spot, he saw nothing. Whatever had been there before was gone. Suddenly, he heard something from right behind him -
Click. Click. Click.
The smell having grown even more overwhelming, Arpeggi quickly turned around, spinning and driving a fist into what was behind him, only for the strike to do… nothing. Despite the increased strength NEXT LEVEL gave Arpeggi, the figure, now looming over him, its malformed skin and so many eyes upon him now quite visible, quickly recovered. With a quick movement of its arm, it stabbed NEXT LEVEL’s rubber sleeves with something, and Arpeggi lost consciousness.
A street on the northern edge of Sound’s Garden, 7:36 PM
Following Alexis and Cybil’s successful foray into the world of theater a few weeks back, the Judecca Highrollers had heard of a secretive underground fighting ring that operated from within Sound’s Garden. From what Nalksi Stracciella had heard, it certainly was not to her taste, but she needed to know more about it, and to that end, she had sent one of the few members of Focolare that had come to spread their mission in Los Fortuna to seek it out and to gather information.
With Nalksi having already had business in the area as the CEO of Taicarn, she had decided to meet up with said member afterwards, organizing a meeting spot and taking time out of her schedule to take in the information that they had gathered. Fifteen minutes past the specified time for the meeting and with no contact from the information gatherer, it was clear that the meeting wasn’t going to happen. It made her apprehensive, certainly; people loyal to her were not the types to simply blow a meeting off, but every follower she had here was in a sensitive position, and she couldn’t simply send more the problem’s way. As it was, she had no leads.
And so, she walked through the street, cars and people alike passing her by. Her ride back to the Eighth Circle was a couple of minutes away, leaving her to walk alone through the bustling streets of Sound’s Garden, taking in the sights. Unfortunately, the sights weren’t much to take in - many drunk partygoers, many desperate people who lost their savings in casinos, and many overwhelming neon lights, which, in Nalksi’s opinion, were somewhat garish.
As Nalksi walked, however, she spotted someone, walking right past her. He stood at 6’6”, broad-shouldered, bald-headed with dirty blond facial hair which had been kept to a stylish stubble. His vest had odd shoulder pads, and his sunglasses hid his eyes well, yet he seemed unafraid.
While he was not a man he had met in person, she had heard much of this man and seen his reprehensible face - this was none other than the suburb of Aurelio’s very own serial killer, and an all-around frustratingly aesthetically skilled home designer, Mr. Jones. She’d heard much of the spectacle of the personal “game” he had set up and streamed on Bifrost, both from her teammate who had gotten caught up in it and from the ones that had watched it (Bucket in particular seemed particularly enthused about it, even paying extra to boost the server’s stream quality and be able to see Manta “getting the shit kicked out of them”, in his words, live as it happened).
Nalksi turned to get a better look of him, but as she hurried after him, she couldn’t find him within the crowd any more. Mr. Jones... She couldn’t help but think of what he might have been doing in the entertainment district. He was scum, toying with others for his own amusement and making a spectacle out of it. In tandem with the district’s seedier underbelly. Nalksi’s displeasure with the fact that Manta had let the killer go increased even further, seeing the man walk free like this, even look quite relaxed in the brief glances heard.
A distorted voice, yet still familiar, came from behind her.
“We had a feeling you’d be in the area, Stracciella. What a stroke of luck we bumped into each other, though… A good stroke for me, less so for you, I guess.”
Nalksi turned around, trying to spot Jones, but he was nowhere to be seen.
“Whoops, missed me! You just have the worst luck with meetings today, don’t ya?”
Nalksi turned and turned, but always he seemed just behind her, surer-footed with his Stand, likely, than she could be now. She didn’t want to do this in public, but the situation seemed desperate, and if anyone in this crowd gave a damn what Mr. Jones was doing, they sure didn’t say a thing. She would need to match him and overpower him, use her Stand, maybe. But even then, where the hell was he? The crowd was busy, but not busy enough to completely obscure him from her watchful gaze, and yet he had managed to disappear. He must’ve used his stand to-
Click. Click. Click.
As she turned behind herself to look again, from the ground in front of Nalksi rose the enormous, distorted arm of Conqueror Worm, giant eye-sporting hand and all, holding onto something. Nalksi quickly tried to double back, but not in time, as the Worm reached out and quickly stabbed her with the odd object he was holding. Before Nalksi passed out, the crowd passing over and ignoring her, she just barely managed to catch a glimpse of it - a small and inconspicuous pen.
The last thing she heard as something engulfed her was a reassurance. “Hey, don’t panic now… I won’t be the one to hurt ya, after all, so you might just stand a chance.”
An intersection by the edge of Sound’s Garden, 7:52 PM
With throbbing headaches, both Nalksi and Arpeggi woke up, finding themselves on a concrete sidewalk. Getting up, they saw each other, a few meters of distance between them. Around them were still the bustling streets of Sound’s Garden, right by a large and bustling intersection. Still somewhat weary, they noticed a familiar smell.
“You’re finally awake! Guess what, you two, ya passed out hard, and now it’s rush hour and you’re so very very far from home!”
That disturbed voice was enough, of course, to fully wake both of these people up, as well as the horrible smell - they were so damn close to the seemingly invincible Conqueror Worm. Dazed, confused, and aware they were under some sort of effect, though neither was the type who quite accepted being so brazenly screwed around with, they had a feeling it would be useless to do anything but let him peacock until it was time to explain what the hell was happening.
“Alright, we rolling? Send your pogs in the chat if the stream is comin’ out A-O-Kay!” Worm waited a few moments, then, and his wide maw turned into something resembling an amused grin. “Great, alright, good! Welcome to your inaugural stream, the start of a new era for Sound’s Garden… Rigged together by yours truly to be completely free of any Internet monitoring types, with my own proprietary systems in place keeping any of you deep web viewers at home or elsewhere from being spotted! And introducing to you our contestants here, Arpeggi Osso Buco and Nalksi Stracciella! The humble Agora Row pastry chef and the hash-tag-girl-boss of that coalition making waves by our waterside, you might be asking, ‘what do these two have in common? Well, you didn’t hear it from ol’ Wormy, but I hear both of them have some pretty involved double lives that have made them little blips on the big boss’ radar!”
“He’s just…” Arpeggi was confused now, as the man gallivanted around the nearby intersection, muttering quietly to himself and, coincidentally, to the nearby Nalksi. “He’s parading around in the streets… Do the people driving seriously not notice this? They aren’t even swerving around him!”
“That… I’m not sure it’s so simple,” Nalksi said, putting her thoughts together, under the impression they were having a conversation, “because I also ran into him in a crowd, earlier, and even when he started taunting me, throwing that Stand around, and even bystanders didn’t seem to think twice. But his Stand is the type normal people can interact with… Isn’t it?”
“Quite proudly in fact!” Worm called out loudly, pointing his extended arm, hand, finger, and an eyeball on his palm Nalksi’s way, the anonymous stream viewers hearing a bell dinging to imply a correct answer edited in. He started to saunter on over, shrugging and idly fiddling with a pen in his hand. Arpeggi tried to step away slightly, still yet to activate his Stand, while Nalksi stood her ground. “So that is quite the contradiction, right? What on earth could the answer to all this beTHINK FAST!”
He wound his arm, and suddenly he was cleaving at Arpeggi with an enormous, lengthy swinging axe, meant to fit on an enormous ceiling, the blade hitting him square in the neck, while the nearby Nalksi, much less agile, simply was grabbed by the head and callously tossed into the street in front of a semi truck.
Both sounds made a resounding thud, and the truck felt its balance thrown off for a moment, before skidding to a halt in the middle of the road. An auburn haired, middle-aged woman with a soothing voice, wearing overalls and a cap, stepped out of the vehicle, running over to where Nalksi previously was. “Wh-what the hell?! Did someone get thrown in front of me, or-?”
Nalksi, after getting flung by the car, got up, completely unharmed, if a little shocked and trying to collect herself. She muttered to herself, “I’m… I’m not hurt? What is…” She glanced at the older woman, then. “You, if you don’t leave here, you’re in grave danger. I’ll be fine, just forget what you’ve seen and drive off!”
The woman didn’t respond, stroking her chin and crouching, walking directly past her and looking where she was laying. “There’s… Nobody there. Not even a pothole, or something displaced. I coulda sworn I felt like I ran over a body or something…” She shrugged, slapping the side of the truck. “I’m takin’ you to a mechanic and sendin’ Omar Keshem the bill. That joyride through the forest really put you through hell.”
The truck drove away, and standing on the other side of the intersection, still reeling slightly but completely unharmed by the axe casually introduced and then stowed away, was Arpeggi, still himself trying to work out what happened here. “This… What have you done, Worm?! Why does the physical world mean nothing to us?!”
“Oh, wow, now it’s 1:1 on guessin’ what’s up first, so we have a match, ladies and gentlemen and everyone else!” He gestured at a seemingly random location with pointed clarity, specifically posing for it and then spinning around on his fell heel to address both of them. “That’s right, Arpeggi!” He produced the pen again. “Take a look at this ‘Pen!’ I know, it just looks like a cheap-lookin’ ballpoint you can buy in bulk in the middle’a July when they start the back-to-school sales these days, yeah? BUT! It ain’t an ordinary ‘pen,’ you know, though I’m sure ya realized that… It’s called ‘Generational Synthetic!’ Thanks to this thing right here I’ve gotten ya with, a favorite little piece I’ve borrowed, you’re basically Stand Objects now! And who wants to go over the basicmost rules of how Stands work, that everything either follows or deviates from?”
“First of all, you’re entirely invisible to anyone that isn’t a stand user! So you can run around like a ghost and spook’em or kill’em or somethin’ like that, and they won’t even know what hit them! In addition, anything that isn’t a stand or a stand object can’t hurt you! I’ve already showcased this on you both, what with the axes an’ the cars and whatnot, so no reason to elaborate further!”
“Now, that all sounds fine and dandy, doesn’t it? However, what about becoming normal? Now, obviously I wouldn’t do this to myself without knowin’ how to get outta this state, yeah? However, you lot have no idea how to free yourselves, and without assistance from ol’ Wormy here-” Jones said, taking a step forwards as a car drove right past him and barely missed him, “You’ll be stuck like this forever!”
“Now, I’m a busy Worm, and so are my associates, so that eternal scenario ain’t exactly something we’re interested in either, but if you wanna get out of this state, you gotta work for it first! And so… I’ll have you two put on a show!” Jones said, striking an exaggerated pose towards another random direction where a camera was likely hidden. “... but not one of those theater type shows, yeah? No… What’s more interestin’ is having you two fight it out, right here in this very intersection! That sound good to you? eh?”
“... And why do you expect us to trust you on this?” Arpeggi said, staring at Jones with contempt.
“Fine, fine, fine… You want proof? Well, not sure if this’ll be enough for you what with that attitude of yours, but it’ll certainly be enough for Miss Straciella over here!” Worm said as a giant, cracked TV screen covered in greenery emerged from his maw, showing on it a picture of three figures sprawled out on the floor somewhere unfamiliar. It wasn’t hard to recognize two of them - Nalksi and Arpeggi, but the third one was recognizable only to Nalksi as the member of Focolare she had sent out to find out more about the district’s underground. She tried to keep a stiff upper lip, but even then, the slight shift of her brow and increased focus on the screen gave the truth away.
“Yeah, betcha thought that the little spy you sent over wouldn’t be found by us, eh? Well, too bad! If you don’t want somethin’ else unfortunate happenin’ to this guy, then you better give us a damn good fight, capiche? And as for your bodies, well… I think it’s pretty clear that without’em, you’re not getting back to normal, yeah? And sure, sure, maybe right now you’re both thinkin’, ‘we just gotta get back to ‘em, and then we’re home free,’ right? Well, it’s a free country, so you’re free to try if ya want, track ‘em down wherever they are, and the people takin’ care of you three are free to stop you WAY easier than I could. Like this, though, only one of your bodies is gonna get messed up real bad, probably! Since you’re basically your own infinite-range Stands with substands now…”
Nalksi clicked her tongue, staring at Worm with contempt. So that was why the person she had sent didn’t show up… This, and the way he was using them as leverage against her, forcing her to abide by his disgusting games, infuriated her.
She would have to make Manta pay for letting Jones go once she got back to the Eighth Circle.
Arpeggi looked back at Jones with a similar disdain to Nalksi, ruminating to himself about what to do. “Arpeggi, despite how much it pains me to say this...” NEXT LEVEL quietly said, only to be interrupted by Arpeggi.
“Yeah, I know. We have to do what he says, both for ourselves and the one caught up in all this. Then, when we’re back to normal...” He curled his hand up into a fist. For now, he would just have to subside by imagining how beating the living daylights out of Jones would feel.
Though he wasn’t much of a fan of having to fight a woman he’d just sort of happened to see on the street, something about her, her reputation as a businessperson and the rumors surrounding that, and the way she carried herself, the words the Worm said directed to her in particular, made him realize that she was a vicious opponent who could certainly hold her own in combat against him… No, wait, that may have been too generous, by how she spoke next.
“So it has come to this… I don’t know you well, Arpeggi Osso Buco, and I don’t intend to tell you more about me than what this insect has already revealed, but I cannot die here, as some phantom hidden from the world in plain sight, and I will not tolerate what this man and his associates have done to one of my own. I must live on here, return to my body, and wreak something worse than any hell they could ever know upon every individual watching this place. I suggest that you, yourself, stand down and let me pass easily, and for such a favor, I will not forget you. For come the future-”
“Be quiet,” Arpeggi interrupted, voice snapping and leaving the distant Nalksi taken aback. “You said you weren’t going to say more about yourself to me, and then went on anyway… You think I want to hear it? Or that you’re better than them? People like you, sending someone into this hell in your stead and acting like you’re not to blame when it goes awry, talking big about the world you intend to shape… I’ve known so many like you, Stracciella, so I know damn well what you are. I don’t like that we’ve been forced into this circumstance, and I damn well intend to wipe the floor with these men myself, with people worth a damn to have by my side, but that doesn’t mean I intend to stand aside and let you thrive!”
The young man prepared his Stand, then, striking a pose as NEXT LEVEL surrounded his body. He was ready, willing, prepared to fight. “I’ll knock your self-important ass into the pavement!”
“You…” Finally, the previously speechless Nalksi was able to find her words, clenching her fist at what he was saying, seething and beginning to allow the underlying viciousness seep into her outer demeanor. “How dare you liken me and all I aspire to to them? If that’s what you see me as, then I will show you no sympathy either.”
“Eheheheh, looks like we’ve picked some good ones tonight, everybody! They’re gonna rip each other to shreds right here in traffic!” Worm, then, slipped away from the scene, sliding away and reemerging atop a nearby overhang, a microphone clipped to the maw of his Stand now. “I’ll be commentating the entire thing, and doin’ on-site everything-I-can to get you fine people the best of audio, visual, you name it! But hey, looks like they’re about to start, so let’s all say that loud and clear..!”
“OPEN THE GAME!!”
(Art by CaptainSpooky27)
Location: The middle of a busy four way intersection, cars passing by almost all the time. The road is represented by the grey tiles, the sidewalks by light grey tiles, and nearby buildings by dark grey squares. The dark grey rectangles are dividers. Each tile is 2x2 meters, making the arena 40x40 meters overall. There are four lanes on each “side”, each 4 meters long. The traffic lights will mostly be red at any one time, with the lights becoming green in a clockwise order, swapping every ten seconds - first, the lights at the northern side will be green, then they’ll become red after ten seconds and the ones on the eastern side will be green, and so on. Civilians will be using pretty much any opportunity available to cross the street, whenever the rules allow for it.
Goal: RETIRE your opponent!
Additional Information: Due to Generational Synthetic’s effect, the players have effectively been turned into stand objects - non stand users can’t see them, and will ignore them. Due to this, the players are also immune to damage caused by regular objects, and will simply get knocked back by it instead of being wounded. This applies to any byproducts of their stands as well, even if they could ordinarily be seen by civilians. It also means that, even if they ordinarily couldn’t, they are able to harm stands with their attacks.
The drivers of the passing cars and any of the civilians involved have 222 physicals, and they drive at speeds of up to 30 mph. They all want to get to their destinations soon, and as such will focus mostly on that, rarely getting out of their cars unless they’re forced to. If their cars are destroyed, they will get out of them and make their way on foot, exiting the arena before calling a cab or uber to pick them up.
Mr Jones has given you the okay on hurting civilians. You’re not sure you want it from him, but it’s there nonetheless.
Team Combatant JoJolity
BADD GUYS Arpeggi Osso Bucco "The blood's... slowly turning invisible... but in the center... she should be there." Make the most out of this odd “stand object” state that Generational Synthetic put you in, and utilize it creatively throughout the match!
Judecca Highrollers Nalksi Straciella “The invisible baby. Earlier, when your back was turned, I wrote on the baby.” Make the most out of this odd “stand object” state that Generational Synthetic put you in, and utilize it creatively throughout the match!
Link to the Official Player Spreadsheet
Link to Match Schedule
As always, if you would like to interact with the tournament community and be among the first to get updates for the tournament, please feel free to PM a member of our Judge staff for an invite to our Official Discord Server!
submitted by Dungeon_Dice to StardustCrusaders [link] [comments]

OBLIGATORY FILLER MATERIAL – Just take a hard left at Daeseong-dong…11

Continuing…
That being handled, I leave a wakeup call for 0430 as I want a shower and a couple shower-sunrisers before we leave. It takes me about 10 minutes to pack. I call home to let Es know what’s going on. She’s not in, so I leave a message. Same for my friends Rack and Ruin of the Agency. They’re thrilled so far with my reports.
The security forces here are absolutely going to freak if they reverse-review my phone records once we leave.
Covert? Schmovert. I’m too old for playing such games.
The next morning, after a sudsy shower and a couple of vodka-infused shower-beers; I’m in the lobby with all my kit, checked-out, and waiting on the tour leader. My passport was stamp-stamp-stampity-stamped here at the hotel, which I thought was weird, but after spending time in this here country, not all that unusual.
At 0545 on the dime, the tour bus pulls into the lot. Without a word, bellhops grab near all my kit and escort it out to the waiting bus.
After tipping each extravagantly, I fire up a huge cigar, and wander around outside, loitering by the bus. I see members of my team at the front desk, checking out. Everything’s been paid for already, they just have to sign documents that they’re not secreting hotel towels or televisions or errant nationals in their luggage.
It’s a weird country.
I see them loading box breakfasts for us as well as box lunches on the bus.
Hell, they’re actually doing ‘field trip’ correctly.
If the bus us fueled up, we can go for days at this rate. There are several coolers bearing the hotel’s brand and I sidle over to see what they’re carrying.
Case after case of iced-down beer and a couple of cases of various high-octane potables; and over there? A couple of boxes of mixers…ah, soda…pop…carbonated citrusy goodness.
“OK”, I sigh, “All is as it should be. Now the field excursion may begin.”
My teammates filter outside as does their luggage. I suggest they get out and keep what is necessary for preliminary outcrop excursions; such as a backpack or knapsack, hammer, acid bottles, field notebooks, Brunton compass, lighters, cameras, personal tobacco products, and the like in the bus. That way, we don’t have to go tearing through all the luggage at every stop.
I pull out a bundle of 100 Hubco™ large geological dual-sample bags. That’s right: ‘dual’ sample…
I distribute these to everyone on the team. I ask that they devise their own numbering system and make absolutely certain I have a copy of it when we’re done. I’ll be correlating and curating all the samples when we get back to the world.
I ask that a cooler of drinks are left on board the bus, rather than in the hold. It’s humid, sticky, and muggy today. We must expend valiant effort in remaining hydrated and this will help.
Luckily, the bus has on-board lavatory facilities.
We are seated on the bus, my 10 collective team members, myself, our 4 ‘guides’, ‘Yuk’, ‘No’, ‘Man’, and ‘Kong’; our driver, relief driver, one incredibly shy national geologist, Myung-Dae Soo, and four of the shiny suit clan.
The hotel wheels out a large cart laden with pastries and a huge coffee urn. A bit of a “Bon Voyage” from the casino and bar crowd, as they put this together for us when they heard we were leaving.
“Hey. That’s really nice of them.” Dax notes.
Dax handed over our raw “elevator waiting” funds as we didn’t have time to run it through the casino-machine before we left. We donated over 75,000 won to our friends at the bar, casino, and massage parlor. The ones delivering our going away present assured us it would be divided equitably.
“It best be”, I laughed, “You never know when one of us might be back!”
There was a collective horrified look on their faces for the merest moments. Then they all laughed and said that they hoped we would return someday soon.
“Nice folks”, I thought, “Stupid as shit country, but nice folks.”
We had all separately left tips for the room maids, bellmen, and matrons back before we checked-out.
There was a flurry of handshaking and goodbyes. Not a bad hotel experience here in the so-called land of Best Korea.
Serious dark coffee was passed out amongst the riders, but Ivan, myself, and Dax were already giving one of my emergency flasks a workout.
Ivan smiled and said: “We drink our coffee the Russian way. That is to say we had vodka before it and vodka afterward. HA!”
Ivan and I are cut from the same bolt.
Faux-doughnuts, pseudo-bear claws and fake-long johns all distributed; the bus is fired up, and rumbling. We are exhorted to watch our drinks as we pull away from the hotel and into the wilds of Northern Korea.
I’m humming away:

On the road again -Just can't wait to get on the road again,
The life I love is bashing rocks in the field with my friends.
And I can't wait to get on the road again
On the road again.
Goin' places that we've never been,
Seein' things that we may never see again…
--
“Rock?”, Dax inquires.
“Yes?” I reply.
“Do please shut up.”
“Music hater”, I muse and comply.
We’re rolling down the highway, as it were, headed generally north. We all have cameras of one kind or another; and rather than relieve us of them, they quietly and without much fuss, slowly darken the windows.
They claim it’s to keep the sun out and temperatures down, but just before things go all black, we’re seeing sights and scenes of the true North Korea. They’re trying to keep us from seeing that en route to the outcrops.
This new bus has some sort of electronic tint-control gizmo for the windows. However, if one has a pair of polarizing sunglasses, as all good field geologists do, you see right past that and can view the passing scenery unencumbered.
I return from a quick beer-recycling loo trip and am amused to see 10 Western scientists, sitting in a blacked-out bus, all wearing polarizing sunglasses.
It was just the surreal note this trip needed as we left the confines of the capital city.
We traveled north, and the empties pile began to grow. We had a few trash bags we had liberated from the hotel, but the shiny suits were very insistent that every empty can, bottle, and bag, yes they had beer in bags…had to be repatriated to a box in the far back of the bus.
Evidently, they either were paid a bounty on each container or were accountable for each vessel. They were soon to realize just the capacity for drink that a group of 11 seasoned very Senior Field Geologists, and one stowaway geologist-in-training can amass.
As we ply our way northward, we see the agricultural side of North Korea. The contrast between rural areas and the capital was striking. There were miles of rice paddies being harvested by people with sickles in their hands. And no cars on the highway. It was most destabilizing for this Westerner.
I think we saw a maximum of three tractors, as most of the work was done with ox power, there was very little evidence of rural electrification. Oh, hold on. We saw many more tractors, I should correct that: we saw three running and not rusted into oblivion tractors.
The farmers we see are using equipment that is quite literally medieval - single-share plows pulled by large, cranky bovines; sweeping sickles to bring in the harvest, and twin-engine, bilateral, botanical-fired ox-carts to transport it. It’s hard to believe that this third-world level of poverty exists in the same country that’s capable of building rockets, nuclear weapons, and tall, well-appointed hotels.
But when we stop at a motorway service station for fuel - a bizarre alien spaceship-like building squatting over the empty carriageways - we do encounter a jangmadang, or semi-official market. Here they are selling cans of knock-off Vietnamese Red Bull and Malaysian-made King Cobra™ Cola.
It reminds me of Russia right after the wall fell. Off the Trans-Siberian Railway in Krasnoyarsk, the Gateway to Eastern Siberia. You can buy Chinese hams, Chinese sodas, Chinese knock-off liquor, and those bloody delicious little bullets of Vitamin-C, Chinese mandarins.
Here, it’s similar. You can get most anything you desire, except it isn’t of Korean manufacture. That stuff is even too shitty to pawn off on tourists.
Instead, it’s knock-off Malaysian, Chinese, or Indonesian beer, wine, or soft drinks.
“Tiger-brand energy drink. Now with 40% more real tiger.” Here? I believe them.
Vodka from everywhere not known for its vodka distilling prowess. Rural hotel shops sell nastily stale crisps, gummy gummies, filling-ripping ‘chewy’ taffy or caramel, and biscuits with a severely limited choice. Rural hotels do not have full electricity so beer is warm and often tossed on the table, waiting for tourists to arrive - as is the food. We were warned to be prepared for cold rice, cold fish, cold potato – and plenty of kimchi and tofu.
Back on the road again, we’re passing small burgs that are not on any of our maps; even the ones we traded for back in the hotel that are specially marked: “For Internal Use ONLY!”.
They were amazingly the same. Clean. Bright. Uncluttered. And attended by cadres of prim, uniform-clad, though non-military people. They were all doing a day’s work keeping everything neat and clean.
There were no cars, trucks, forklifts…only rickshaws and ox-carts. However every one of these ‘towns’ were identical, and exactly, as Ivan pointed out, ‘X’ number of minutes apart.
“Watch! Is so!”, Ivan said. We passed one of these villages, and exactly 3 minutes later, an exact copy. Three minutes later? Another one. 3 more minutes? Xerox-city.
“What the fuck?” Dax asked.
“Potemkin village.” Comrade Dr. Academician Ivan replied.
A Potemkin village is any construction, literal or figurative, whose sole purpose is to provide an external façade to a country which is faring poorly. It is for making people believe that the country is faring better, although statistics and data would suggest otherwise.
“Russia pioneered the process,” Ivan noted with no small amount of pride. “During Cold War with West, entire cities were built, moved, raised, and razed. Ever hear of Krasnoyarsk-25? Atomic Research City? Supposed place of weapons study and manufacture. Huge ‘accident’. Entire city demolished, total populace relocated supposedly, after massive nuclear calamity.”
“Is that true? Cliff asks.
“No. Not at all.” Ivan smiles, “Deliberate misinformation. At least for K-25. It was diversion for actual towns where accidents; nuclear, biological, or worse, had happened. West so concerned about K-25 because it was big, near big capital city of Krasnoyarsk and suitably located out in the taiga. Easy to spot, easy to watch. Kept Western satellites busy while real towns of I-33, U-10, and AR-13 out in the forest were quietly demolished and people relocated or mass buried after some horrible, horrible accidents...”
“You think it’s the same here?” I asked Ivan.
“No, Dr. Rock”, Ivan smiled, and helped himself to my freshly constructed, but untouched, Yorshch, “This is all fake and bluster. Make West think everything is all A-OK, is that right idiom?”
“Yep.” I reply, “Precisely.”
“Make West believe all is OK and green”, as he winks at me, “And bustling and growing. Cover up what is real case here. We all see it and we see right through. Shoddy even for Asians.”
We all had to snicker and smirk as the shiny suit squad, who sat up at the front of the bus, and were not supposed to be listening; reacted like every cell in their bodies were just hit with a drop of pure lemon juice.
“Comrade Dr. Academician. Decorum, please.” I snickered.
“Oh, fuck them!”, Ivan replied, “I am old Russian. They try and pull burlap over my eyes? St. Petersburg? Moscow? Krasnoyarsk.? I’ve been there, seen them. They think this display of tawdriness…Even goofy American and Canadian can see the fakes they are. Britisher? I’m not so sure…”
“Damn, Doctor., I said to Ivan, “You’re just making friends all over the planet today.”
We all knew it was in jest; but the shiny suit squad certainly had their feathers ruffled and either didn’t care or wanted us to know we were under their observation.
“Fuck them twice”, Ivan said, “Ask them for bottle opener. I’m too lazy to search for my field jackknife.”
I hand him my pocket Leatherman and he pries the top of another bottle of ‘Budveiser’ beer.
“They can’t even make fake the name correctly”, he smirks and drains the bottle.
‘Town’ after ‘town’ and even that parade gets uninteresting. We’re headed north and finally come to a crossroads.
The bus driver, who must be a regular paranoid-maniac because he actually stopped to look for oncoming traffic, which we have seen precisely none since leaving the capital city, made a hard right. We’re heading back and up into the hills, leaving the bright lights of the big city far behind.
After an hour or so of driving, we pull off to the left-hand side of the road.
“Rock, Ivan, Cliff…holy shit, look at this!” Dax was uncharacteristically excited.
It was an open field that leads to a series of low outcrops of polychromatic, obviously sedimentary rocks. Magentas, greens, purples, rust-reds, browns, blacks, olive greens…holy shit. A real sedimentary pile.
We filed out of the bus with our field gear. The shiny suit squad started in with a bullhorn.
“You will wait for tour guides!”
“You will listen to group leaders!”
“You will not stray from the designated paths set up…”
No one heard them as the group of 11 remaining Western geoscientists were already across the highway and hieing for the exposures like outcrop-seeking multiple-warhead re-entry vehicles.
“You must wait!” we heard from exasperated voices back at the bus. “You must stop!”
“You must piss off!” Cliff said, “This is what we’ve been waiting over two weeks to see!”
“They are very angry with us”, Myung-dae the young Korean geologist said. “I find that just too bad.”
“And you are?” I asked.
Myung-dae Soo, the young Korean geologist, introduced himself.
“Well”, I said, “Welcome aboard. I’m Dr. Rock.”
“They are very, very angry”, he repeats.
“So? Are you tagging along to give them internal reports?” I asked.
“No, Doctor”, he replied, “I too am a geologist. I want to get away from those assholes and see some real rocks.”
“Who are you with?” I ask, “What group?”
“I am 5th-year student at Pyongyang College. I am not officially here. We were told in class that you were coming. I decided to see if I could join you. This morning, I was standing by bus and they thought I was hotel worker or orderly. I was given cooler full of beer and told to find place for it on the bus. I did and after that, just stayed in the back. I am stowaway. I am ashamed, but I had to see for myself. But, I like Western field trips so far!”
“No shit? Well, then”, I said, “Double welcome aboard. None of this ‘I am ashamed’ shit. You’re a geologist, but you haven’t even worked through your first field-evening get-together with us. But this is no pleasure cruise. It’s real work, real geology, real serious science shit. You savvy?”
“Yes, sir, Doctor Rocknocker from Sultanate in the Middle East.” Myung-dae smiled.
“And you fucking stay close to me”, I smirked.
I fired a couple of BLAAATS! from my portable air horn.
“Field Meeting! Field Meeting! Assholes & Elbows!” I called aloud.
Everyone gathered within earshot.
“OK, guys, here’s the deal. We do not know how long we’ve got here. So, let’s split up into teams. Geophysicists, go do your structural thing. Stratigraphers? Field relations. Geologists? Let’s go talk to some ronery-rooking-rocks. No offense, Mr. Myung.”
Myung-dae was laughing up a storm. He got that reference. He later told us all around the campfire he thought ‘Team America’ was a “fucking hilarious movie.”
Oh, we are going to be a real bad influence on this poor kid.
The groups spontaneously broke up into 4 or 5 sub-groups. They headed for areas they thought were important and they were photographing, measuring, pounding on rocks, and arguing within minutes.
“No, you idiot! It’s continental. Look at those adhesion ripples.”
“The fuck you know. It’s only a little low-level eggbeater tectonics. Where the fuck would you get continental collision-size energy around here?”
“Oh, the fuck you say. It’s non-marine. Those are mud cracks. Look at the sandy aeolian infill, fer chrissake.”
Formal? Proper? Detached Doctors of Geology?
Not when you’re in the field. It all goes out the window when different opinions collide like subducting plates.
“The music of my people!” I said to Morse.
“I thought that was the ‘Safety Dance’?” he chided.
“We’re a big family. We can have more than one.” I snickered.
We’re wandering around the site, with individual purpose.
We are looking for or looking at items of interest.
We’re hacking at the outcrops.
We’re all looking at…things.
It’s hard to describe. Get a load of geologists or geology students out of the office, lab, or classroom; stick them out on a bare expanse of heavily weathered rock and it’s simply…numinous.
We’re rebuilding worlds here.
This rock says this.
This rock says that.
And you’re not fluent in that dialect. Here, let me interpret for you…
We’re at each other’s throats, in the academic-metaphorical sense. Tempers have been known to run hot. There has been the occasional bloody nose or rocks sailing down an outcrop without the obligate “HEADACHE!” call. Hammers and Marsh Picks have ended up swimming without the owner’s knowledge.
But once we’re back; settled in the hotel room, tavern, or around the campfire, we’re all a Band of Brothers again. It’s an odd thing to watch; as if you’re not of the clan, you’d need an interpreter. It defies all boundaries: political, sexual, educational, geographical, linguistic, social, et cetera.
We’re all geologists first. We share the common scientific bond of Geology.
That’s why Geology is the First Science.
Plus we tend to drink a serious fucking whole bloody awful lot.
We’ve all been on that ‘crawlin’ home puker’.
We’ve also been to the ends of the earth: the deepest depths, the highest heights, we deal with the greatest pressures, the hottest temperatures; we’ve been to the mountain, we’ve seen the elephant, and we’ve held a bear’s nose to dogshit.
We wear the scars attained in our travels like badges of honor.
We’re God-Damned Scientists.
Back off, man. Geologist comin’ through.
Anyways, I’m looking at the bedding-plane boundaries between the purple unit and the underlying olive-green unit. The upper unit it looks, to me, continental in origin. Fluvial, perhaps. The lower unit is much finer-grained. Marine mudstone, perhaps? But what age?
The cadged Korean Geological maps are worse than useless. They never would go down to the outcrop scale. Consulting them, they don’t even note these exposures in a field sense.
Myung-dae, who is working about 35 meters down-section from me calls out, “Doctors! Sirs! Look here! I’ve found something!”
We all wander over as he is hacking away at the dusty, eroded rock. He stands and dusts off his find.
It’s a very large, nearly 1-meter diameter, coiled fossil cephalopod.
I wander over for a closer look. Dax, Cliff, Morse, and Ivan do as well.
“Blimey! Will you look at that? Outstanding, Mr. Myung!” Cliff says.
“Well, that confirms it. This layer, at least, is marine. Look at that suture pattern”, I say, dusting off an unweathered bit.
“Look at the radius of coiling.”, Cliff joins in.
We’re slowly wresting information out of this silent witness.
“Ornamentation?”, Dr. Ivan asks. “Knobs, bosses, and excrutions?” Oh, yes.”
In unison, we declare: “Hyphoplites!”
Morse adds, “And therefore…these rocks are middle Cretaceous. Marine. Not bad…”
“Need to get some samples for geochemical analysis. Dig deep, gentlemen, we need unweathered samples for TOC (Total Organic Carbon) content.”, Dr. Erlen Meyer notes.
With that, we have a relative age of the rock, a good idea of its depositional environment, and therefore extent, ideas of field relationships, and an indication of some of its fauna.
Could it be source rock worthy?
Samples? Best get diggin’, Beaumont.
That unit is right smack in the middle of this pile of rocks. Dax and I will work up-section and Ivan and Cliff will work down-section. We’re going to see what lies above, what lies below, what trends we can discern, and develop an idea of what happened here some 100 million years ago.
This is what happens when you get geologists out in the field with the proper amounts of field gear, outcrops, and alcohol.
Overall, the deeper down-section, and therefore, earlier in geological time you go, the more marine the rocks are. Conversely, the higher you go in the column, i.e., up-section, into younger rocks, the more continental it appears.
We find fragments of marine fish fossils, sea-crocodile scutes and teeth, heaps of mosasaur coprolites, i.e., fossil shit piles, and other indications that the lower, older rocks are Lower Cretaceous ocean basin-fill.
But up higher; we find mud cracks, rain prints, land turtle shells, land-snails (Bellerophontid gastropods), and what may actually be a fossil feather. All indications of a more continental, i.e., fluvial (river), floodplain, lacustrine (lake), and paludal (swamp) deposition.
That’s my particular bailiwick.
I’m ‘elephant walking’ along the upper outcrops looking for fossils. You basically bend over at the waist and sweep from left to right as you take exaggerated step after step, scanning the ground looking for…well…it takes years, but once you see it, you never forget it.
“Fossil sign”.
A disjunct endemism. Something not in situ. Something out of place. A bit of a different, out of context color. Out of context texture. Out of context size. Out of context context.
Something that looks like it shouldn’t ought to be there.
I’m picking up 1 cm. square hunks of what look like an ordinary rock. I taste them. Well, I stick them to my tongue. If it liquefies and runs away, it’s ordinary mudstone, shale, or the like.
If it sticks…well, it might just be fossil bone.
“PTWTWOO!”
“Damn right, Rock”, Cliff says from behind me, “Fucking North Korea tastes terrible.”
“Still, it’s the best way I know to…” I paused.
“Got something?” Cliff asked.
“Look here.” I said, “Anthill. Big, nasty buggers. Look around the edges. Pieces of flat, cream-colored rock on this gaudy purple stuff. Tongue test? They stick like cockleburs. Let’s look upslope, see if there’s a drainage…”
There it was, a nice little drainage incised about 1.5 meters deep into the nearly horizontal rocks we were walking on.
“Any float?” I asked.
“Not yet,” Cliff said.
We followed the weak, little drainage that was cut into the outcrop, up another couple of meters.
There were very scrappy, very small, very scattered pieces of that same cream-colored rock. Some were ornamented with a scroll-work or some sort of striations. Most un-geological. More biological. We followed the trail, up here, around here, over there.
Cliff noticed it first, a soccer-ball sized lump of completely out-of-place crème-colored ‘rock’ working its way out by gradual erosion of the variegated pastels of the continental rocks upon which we were treading.
I got there first and began to clear the area with my Estwing.
“Careful. Careful”, Cliff admonished.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Mind your Mincies. [Mince pies = eyes]”, as I’m swinging away at the reluctant, reticent, rocks.
The excavation grew, slowly. From the rounded dome, we could see small sutures that had developed…
Then condyles, fenestrae, then more ‘bone’. Then a jaw, teeth, vertebrae…
“HOLY DOUBLE-DAMN SHIT!” I tootled my air horn. We needed the group to see this.
It was a skull. A dinosaur skull. A small, non-avian dinosaur skull.
Everyone has crowded around and looked at the small quarry we had just built.
“Whatcha got, Rock? Cliff?” Joon asked.
“Fuck me, but I think we’ve got us a dinosaur skull,” I said.
Professor Doctor Academician Ivan walked over and cleared the area.
As Professor Emeritus, he had pole position priority.
“I agree.” is all he said.
I cleared the area and let others take a whack at opening up the quarry.
We may have been low on power tools, but we had a surfeit of opinions.
“OK,” I said, “Let’s look at the facts…”
  1. Age? Cretaceous. Probably lower to lower-middle Cretaceous.
  2. Continental deposits. That’s very fine sand we’re hacking away. Fluvial, without a doubt. Or, possibly aeolian; there’s no such thing as a geological certainty. Dunes? Ephemeral creeks? Low floodplain? Geo-talk… .
  3. Small size. Potentially a juvenile?
  4. Nope. Not a juvie. Sutures are closed, fused. This is, well was, an adult; perhaps a subadult, given its size.
  5. In situ? In place? Or washed in?
Hard to tell when all you’ve exposed is half the critter’s brain box.
“Look at that!” Myung-dae exclaimed, “Squamosal bones and the inner parietals…temporal fenestrae. It had a frill; a small one.”
“OK,”, I said, looking closely at the exposed scrappy remains, “Fucking-A Bubba. Nailed it.” I said, giving him the thumbs up.
“Ceratopsian. Look at those greens-grinder molars. There’s some small osteoderms on the skull; knobby old bastard. Early critter.” I continued.
Others looked around and confirmed my observations.
“Reminds me of Protoceratops from when I was back in Mongolia,” I said.
Dax chimed in with, “Looks something like Psittacosaurus from back in the Cretaceous Belly River of Canada.”
Drs. Ivan and Morse agree. “Most assuredly. It is definitely proto-ceratopsian. Young adult, as Dr. Rock notes by the cranial sutures. Do they have a record of proto-ceratopsians here?”
Myung-dae replies, “I have read reports of Korean proto-ceratopsian found in South Korea. Not long ago, 2019, it is called…ah… Auroraceratops. It is a genus of bipedal basal neo-ceratopsian dinosaur.”
“Bipedal?” I query. “Well, there’s a fine how do you do. All the proto-ceratopsians I’ve known were obligate quadrupeds.”
“Well”, Ivan, Dax, Cliff, and Morse agree, “That should give the shiny suit squad something to report. That’ll keep them the hell out of our hair for a while.”
We photograph each step as we excavate the critter. It’s more or less in situ, buried where it fell. Probably killed by a sand slip off a dune, or a river sandbar slip and burial. It’s not complete, but we do have the skull and a good portion of the post-cranial elements to about just before the pelvis. A good pectoral girdle, skull, jaw, frill, forelimbs, forefeet…easily half-a cute little herbivorous dinosaur. About the size of a smallish Highland Coo or large Great Dane.
We flag it with the team particulars, it’s GPS position, and carefully rebury the animal. We don’t have any of the equipment nor time to excavate it properly, but we can conserve it. Of course, we’ll be informing the proper authorities of our discovery.
I have an absolutely ancient Polaroid instant camera. Before re-internment, I take several pictures of our “Koreasaurus”, as we’ve dubbed the animal, with items for scale; like a hammer, cigar, and oddly enough, a photographic scale. Then I get a photo of the whole crew standing around, drinking warm beers from their individual day packs, smiling about the find ‘they‘ made.
We hear the melodious tootle of the bus’s horns. We make sure to pack out all our trash and wander back to our terrestrial transport.
“You were gone too long!” the chief shiny suited character goes all ballistic on me.
“Watch yourself, Herr Mac.”, I calmly said, “You’re going to burn your nose on my cigar.”
“You left without your handlers…err…guides!” he fumed.
“Hey, Scooter. Cool out. We’re geologists. We never get lost.” I said.
It sometimes just takes us longer to get back than it took us to leave…
“Your impertinence will be reported.” He smoldered.
“Report this, Mother Chuckler”, I observed and held out the pictures of our newly discovered Koreasaurus.
“Show those photos to your handlers,” I said in a mocking tone. “We found a brand new species of God-damned dinosaur for you geezers. It took us less than two hours. You can spin it that it’s a new, never-before-seen species of very specialized dinosaur found right here in beautiful Korea del Norte. Be quite the scientific coup, don’t you think? Trust us. We won’t say anything.”
He immediately shut up and went into conference with the rest of the shiny suit squad.
“Doctor”, one of the clan covert asked, “This is a new dinosaur?”
I had a thunderbolt of an idea.
“Oh! Yes, it is. I’d stake my reputation on it. You’ve had no concerted search here for the beasts and well, with the normalizing of relations between your country and the world, it allowed your specialists to perform real science. In fact, on the bus is the young North Korean geoscientist who made the discovery.” I said. “Give me a minute. I’ll go and get him. I think he was off taking a shi…ah, using the lavatory. Just give me a minute.”
I did have an idea. A wonderful idea. A wonderfully evil idea.
Back on the bus, I ordered the doors closed.
“Gentlemen! Ears and eyes! Please.” I said loudly.
Continuing…
“The shiny suits have their knickers all a-twist because we don’t want to listen to them; the assholes. Fuck that. I’ve got an idea. Let’s make our young acolyte here, Mr. Myung-dae Soo, a national hero. He would probably get his ass in a crack for sneaking on board the Western bus today the way he did. Well, double fuck that. Let’s all say he found the dinosaur. Let him take the glory for the homeland. No one else will ever need to know.” I said smiling.
“Fuck Yeah! You bet! Замечательное! Ihmeellisiä! Maravilhoso! Geweldig!”
Good to know we’re all on the same page. Geologists. You can always count on them…
“Mr. Myung-dae Soo? Front and center. Time to go and become ‘Hero of Best Korea’.” I smiled.
He was absolutely terrified.
“Doctor…I …don't…wait…no…” he stammered.
Cliff, Dax, Ivan, and I trotted him out to confront the shiny suit squad.
“Don’t worry, Myung. We’ve got your back. Trust us.” I said in a low conspiratorial tone.
The shiny suit squad turned as one and gave Mr. Myung the Stink Eye treatment.
“Here you go. The man of the hour. Mr. Myung-Dae Soo, young geologist and up and coming paleontologist.” I say loudly and with the utmost honor.
They look at him and the Korean erupts in rapid-fire staccato bursts.
Cliff just wanders in and interjects, “Yes. Righto. Top form. Found the float. Tracked down that dino like he was on safari. Highest marks. Good man!”
Dax adds more fuel to the fire. “Like he knew where to go, knew where to look. He’s a natural.”
Dr. Academician Ivan blustered forth: “Excellent scholar. Excellent field man. Banner geologist.”
I couldn’t have added more. The shiny suit squad was gobsmacked.
I asked Myung-dae what they were saying.
“They were talking about reprisals. Reporting to authorities. Then, they stopped. You have them completely confounded.” He said.
“How so?” I asked, quietly.
“Between an international incident where we don’t listen to our handlers and this potential important scientific discovery.” Mr. Myung-dae reported, trying hard to parse the evolving situation.
“Yes”, I added to Ivan’s bluster.
To the shiny suits: “I’ve worked as visiting Dinosaurian Vertebrate Paleontology Curator at all the major American museums. This is a find quite unlike anything known. It is a watershed discovery. It will help unravel the evolution and distribution of the clan Dinosauria for the whole Korean Peninsula. Perhaps, even with international impact on the recent finds in China.”
I laid it on with a trowel.
I hit all the buzzwords.
“Yes. Yes, perhaps.”, the head shiny-suiter said. “I will report this bit of very good news to the proper authorities. Myung-dae, with us. We require more information.”
“Ah, we’d prefer him to ride in back with us if you don’t mind. Scientific courtesy, old man. He needs to be classically de-interviewed after such a find.” I insisted, making certain I stand as tall, wide, and menacing as possible while smiling like a damned Cheshire cat, one smoking a very large cigar.
“Very well. We are not far from our evening stop. We can talk later.” He agreed.
We all moseyed, laughing silently, back to the bus; literally supporting our young hero Mr. Myung-dae as he seemed to have gone all wobbly of late.
Myung-dae was ashen-white. He looked like he had just given birth to a basketball. He was visibly shaking.
We get on the bus and I whip up a stout Yorshch for the young hero of the hour.
“Here! This is for you. If you’re going to be a world-class geologist, you’d damn sure better start acting like one.” I smile broadly.
There were hoots, cheers, and cat-calls.
Beers were popped, bottles uncorked; cigars, cigarettes, and pipes lit.
“Damn Skippy!” some anonymous reveler added.
Myung-dae slurped a good half the drink. I offered him a cigar. He stopped shaking enough to accept the novel offer.
Remember “crawlin’ home puker”? He’s taken his first step into a larger world.
OK, just to recap. Here are the dramatis personae left on the bus…
Bus driver (Kim) and his relief (Won).
My team and I. That’s 11 Western geoscientists: Morse, Cliff, Volna, Ack, Viv, Graco, Erlen, Dr. Academician Ivan, Joon, Dax, and myself.
Then there are our guides: Yuk, No, Man, and Kong.
Our stowaway hero geologist-in-training: Myung-dae Soo, aka, “Mung”.
And the four members of the shiny suit clan: Pak, Mak, Tak, and Jak. At least, that’s the names we used when we addressed them.
The bus was rumbling down the deserted highway. We were headed more or less due east, passing the occasional Potemkin Village. They knew we cracked their code long ago, so they didn’t bother with darkening the windows any longer.
We are passing a series of highway road cut outcrops. We’re only going approximately 35 or 40 miles per hour. Suddenly, Morse jumps out of his seat and runs up to the driver.
“STOP! STOP! Back up! We almost missed it!” he barks in heavily Russian inflected English.
The driver, shaken to the core, just slams on the brakes. The bus grinds to a stop. Good thing there’s no traffic out here.
Or anywhere else, for that matter.
Jak of the suit clan jumps up and asks “What is the problem?”
“How could you miss that?” Morse shouts. “Huge fault. Mineralization. I saw that from a glimpse. We must return to investigate.”
“Is not possible. We have appointment at the hotel.” Jak replies.
“Fuck that!”, Morse shouts. I guess he’s just really into faults…
I wander up and try to defuse the situation.
“OK, guys, cool out. Let’s be reasonable. Do it our way. Go back to that road cut. We spend a half-hour there then we go on to the hotel. The hotel will still be there when we arrive, won’t it? Even if we’re a bit late?” I ask.
Jak looks to Pak, who converses with Mak and Tak. They know they’re outgunned.
The driver shifts the bus into reverse and we back down the luckily deserted highway over a mile to the outcrop in question.
We had to admit, it was a mother beautiful normal fault. In perfect, textbook cross-section.
Morse and Joon were on it like white on rice; given the mineralization along the fault plane. All sorts of implications for the thermal and geological history of the area. But with just one exposure like this, more or less just a real interesting geo-oddity.
We spent precisely 30 minutes at the exposure, and when our handlers requested we re-board and head to the motel, we complied like nice, normal sort of folks.
I believe the appropriate maxim here is: “Lull them into a false sense of security…”
Once more down the road we travel. Beers popped, bottles uncorked; you know, the usual.
Forty-five minutes later, we pull into, I kid you not, a replica US of A 1950s Motor-Inn.
“Mr. Myung”, I ask, “What the hell is this?”
To be continued…
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The Ending and What it Could Mean (a consolidated thread dialogue)

Recently I had a dialogue with u/Armoogeddon that began in this post’s comments section wherein he was kind enough to ask my opinion about several aspects of Twin Peaks Season 3 and the overall story. I tend to focus less on the surface narrative of Frost and Lynch’s original script (whatever that actually looks like, I’m referring to how it is rendered onscreen) and concentrate more on the abstractions encoded in Lynch’s direction. When we reached the end u/Armoogeddon suggested I make a post of our conversation, and here it is. My thanks for the suggestion, and for asking me questions in the first place. It presented a good framework to turn my thoughts into words.
It’s a bit long, of course. But I hope you find it compelling.
Preface to say: everything below is just my opinion, not a “fact.”
I don’t think the idea of Twin Peaks is that Laura’s consciousness lived on after her death.
The ending of Fire Walk With Me posits Agent Cooper as her angel, the angel we see is not seen by her at all. The angel is seen in a white light, whereas Laura is bathed in a blue light that better matches the TV static from the beginning of the film. Laura was unable to face the truth of her situation, so in her subconscious she created Cooper to discover the truth, to solve the mystery.
But she has never been able to face that truth. The closest she got was the idea that Leland was possessed by an evil spirit. But he wasn’t, and even that was more than she could bear.
The Red Room isn’t heaven, it is her subconscious. She is hiding inside a delusion of Bob possessing Leland to explain and excuse what her parents have done, a lie to save her from facing her truth: her father molested her and her mother let it happen. In Season 3, it’s the role of the mother that is explored for the first time.
Agent Cooper has “returned” after 25 years because the psyche of the girl who was Laura Palmer feels again ready to face her buried truth.
First she/he must conclude the wicked dream that has seized her heart, the “Twin Peaks/TV-show/dream”. This requires the destruction of the Bob delusion and the removal of Bad Cooper. This is what takes place in the first 17 parts of season 3. The traumas of FWWM are revisited throughout The Return, abstracted and recontexturalized to allow her subconscious to face these things, to slowly remind her of her path to realization of the truth of the Bob lie.
Once that dream has been ended, the idea/memory of her death must be corrected. Her death was a spiritual one, and a psychological one. That was the death of her identity. Cooper rewrites this memory by leading her away in her memory from meeting Jacque, Leo and Ronette, a meeting that in reality might not have occurred at all, and the train car murder which definitely is a psychotic fantasy, not a reality.
Then, with part 18, Cooper enters the Laura-as-Carrie dream to take her home, where the trauma lives. But the Laura-as-Carrie is no more ready to face it than Laura herself was 25 years ago. Notice that Carrie has, despite her obvious maturity, the mentality of a child. She doesn’t know how far Washington state is from Texas and whether it’s cold there. She doesn’t even seem to know that you can buy food on the way. She’s like a little girl.
And I think that’s what Twin Peaks illustrates: Laura’s splitting of her personality/identity into the sheltered child and the adult woman. One of them “knows” the truth and actively avoids it and one of them has no understanding of what happeed and wants to know the truth. When the second gets what she wants and still cannot face it, the first takes over and returns to the subconscious of the Red Room.
I really like this theory, but tell me if i understood your interpretation of the Red Room or not. You say the Red Room is a creation of Laura from her subconscious to avoid the trauma?u/zimion5389 (special guest question)
The scene in FWWM when Laura enters the painting given to her by Mrs. Chalfont. This is Laura’s “discovery” of the Red Room. Mrs. Chalfont (who is Laura’s hallucination) directs Laura through the door where her grandson stands. He raises his arm and snaps his fingers (“sometimes things can happen just like that”). The sound of Fire, and we fade to the Red Room.
We are Laura’s POV as we pass over the Ring. We watch Cooper enter the Red Room for the first time. Cooper is a creation of Laura’s subconscious.
The Little Man says he is the Arm and he sounds like this: “zzzzzzz” and he holds the ring. The Arm is asleep, so it’s numb.
Cooper looks at us/Laura and tells us not to take the ring. Then immediately outside of the Red Room we see Laura turn over in bed. She lifts her left arm with her right arm because it’s fallen asleep, it’s numb. And it holds the ring, just like the snoring Arm of the Red Room.
Annie appears bleeding from the nose and mouth, and disappears. She’s only here because of season two continuity.
But then Laura, freaked out, gets out of bed to look out her bedroom door. She hears what sounds like her mother calling her. Laura opens the door looking out on the dark, empty stairs. The door creaks loudly and we hear the Arm’s “zzzzz” sound again. Then Laura looks back, seeing herself look back within Mrs. Chalfont’s picture, echoing the first Laura’s pose.
Then we are with the Laura in the picture as she passively looks back out the door, the curtains of The Red Room behind her.
She is outside of herself, watching herself. She’s become two.
Well than what on earth was episode eight? — u/Armoogeddon
Well, the atomic bomb that released Bob and resulted in dirty bearded men going in and out of a convenience store to create pain and sorrow (garmonbozia) I would say was Leland raping Laura and her subsequent prostituting herself in that “world of truck drivers.”
The rape is the “explosion” that destroyed her. The mushroom cloud and The Experiment’s orgasmic spewing of eggs and Bob is extremely phallic and part of this as well. Leland literally put Bob inside her.
The Woodsman would be the truck drivers she had sex with for cocaine she used to numb herself with, and the convenience store itself is her body that they would come in and out of. And the “room above the convenience store” is her head, her mind.
The split is represented here by the gold blob found isolated in the center of the chaos/explosion. We see this play out in the theater scene with the Fireman and Dido.
This core of her identity (the golden blob) is placed into the gold orb, which is sent/hidden away in a fantasy represented by the images projected on the movie screen the orb is sent into. This movie is her delusion brought about by her inability to understand/process what was done to her at such a young age by Leland. She is the dreamer who dreams, and then lives inside the dream.
I believe that “dream” is season 1 and 2 of Twin Peaks.
The little girl who is ultimately entered by the frogmoth thing that hatches in the desert could be Laura’s psychotic excuse for Sarah’s failure to protect her. Much like Bob being the one causing Leland to abuse her, so does the frogmoth put Sarah to sleep, or cause her to turn away. The horse is the white of the eye, the part of the eye that does not see. This is Sarah’s part in Laura’s misery, a part that before season 3 was never addressed either by Laura or by the story itself.
Again, only my opinion.
Wait, so what’s your theory on the ending (“what year is this?”)? And on Audreys sequences? Is the stuff happening around town actually happening, or is that also part of her imagination?
I’m one of those people for whom The Return didn’t resonate as well, but you’re doing a good job making it click.u/Armoogeddon
Ok, so if you’re going to read this, just keep an open mind and remember I’m not trying to convince anyone of anything. But since you asked the question I took some time to properly compose my thoughts. You may find that just thinking about it might give you some ideas about the construction of season 3.
tl;dr: Laura is the One, Twin Peaks is an elaborate delusion created to hide an unfaceable truth.
Hang on, this gets a bit complex...
The ending of Part 18 and Audrey’s story are each really hard to suss out. I don’t think there’s enough information to “prove” any theory about those parts. But there are some aspects to think about when considering them.
There are so many echoes of similar events, maybe that can help fill in the blanks.
Audrey’s story is that after exiting the Red Room, Bad Cooper (with Bob inside him) raped her comatose body which made her pregnant with Richard.
Diane’s story says that with “no knock, no doorbell,” Bad Cooper (with Bob inside him) appeared in her apartment, raped her and took her to “...a gas station” which would be the convenience store.
Laura’s story is that a creature named Bob (living inside her father) snuck into her room at night and raped her.
I think Diane and Audrey are cyphers of Laura, and they play out abstracted parts of Laura’s story within the main plot lines.
Let’s trace Diane a while first.
Like the Alice Duffy/Blue Rose story immediately preceding her shooting, Diane is shot, dies, then disappears.
Before being shot in Buckhorn, Diane said she was at a “sheriff’s station.” So there are two Diane’s here. Where they were once separate they now seem to be fusing back together into one consciousness, inside the “shell” of Naido in Twin Peaks.
We don’t know Naido’s origin, but I would say it was Diane being taken to the room above the convenience store by Bad Cooper that created her, analogous to Laura’s entry into the painting Mrs. Chalfont gave her in FWWM where she became two: a Laura inside the Red Room and a Laura outside the Red Room, an abstraction of Laura’s retreat into madness and her split because of her abuse.
Audrey, if you recall, has the first abstracted version of this scenario back in season 1 at One-Eyed Jacks.
Having infiltrated the bordello via working at her father’s perfume counter (ostensively investigating the murder of Laura Palmer), Audrey is trapped in a bedroom with her father Ben Horne (who also slept with Laura) she closes the red curtains surrounding all sides of the bed, creating a Red Room where she quickly hides behind a mask to escape being raped by him.
A retreat into the unconscious and psychosis creating the two worlds: the world inside and the world outside. This has happened to all three women. In each case, the split consciousness must become one again.
So let’s look closer at Audrey.
Audrey wants to leave, to find Billy. Charlie, her husband, is sleepy and wants to wait until later. In lieu of going to the Roadhouse to look for him, Charlie calls Tina who was the last person to see Billy before he disappeared.
Charlie learns from Tina what happened to Billy, but refuses to tell Audrey. The thing she wants to know is purposefully being hidden from her. And Charlie looks like he’s afraid of her knowing.
How is Audrey playing out Laura’s story? Billy in this narrative is like Judy in the main narrative, they are each abstract versions of the thing that Laura has suppressed but wants to discover.
Audrey feels like she’s not herself, that she is someone else. She wants to go and she wants to stay. To find Billy/the Truth she has to choose to be the Audrey that wants to go, and for the two to become one.
As with Diane, this final conversion is preceded by an explosion of aggression (Diane attempts to shoot the Blue Rose Task Force, Audrey viciously attacks Charlie).
The next time we see Audrey, she is entering The Roadhouse with Charlie. They toast. Charlie toasts to “us,” Audrey to “Billy.” Then, “Audrey’s Dance” is announced. Her search for Billy/the Truth has taken her back to her dance from the beginning (season 1, episode 3 to be exact), to the starting positions where it was all comfortable.
Then, from out of nowhere a violent, sexual jealousy explodes (“that’s my wife!”), shattering Audrey’s reverie. Despite wanting to find Billy/the Truth, she is unprepared to face all it contains. She pleads for Charlie to “get me out of here” and in a flash of electricity retreats into a wholly different place, with no idea what has happened.
Bye, Audrey. Now back to Diane.
After being shot and disappearing from Buckhorn, Diane is in the Red Room being decommissioned as a “Tulpa.” Unlike Dougie’s tulpa-trauma, Diane knows exactly what has happened and why. Fuck you.
The next time we see Diane, we are at the sheriff’s station. Bob has been vanquished and Bad Cooper has been returned to burn in the Red Room. Here now Diane is revealed to have been hidden inside of Naido at the sheriff’s station just as she had asserted in Buckhorn to the Blue Rose Task Force. Remember that Naido was blind, possibly deaf, and unable to communicate. Now as Diane she will be able to see and hear what was kept from her. But is she ready?
The dream fades and disappears and Diane is revealed in Naido’s place. Now Cooper, Diane, and Gordon stride purposefully toward the door in the basement of the Great Northern. They are all that remain of the Twin Peaks “dream” because they come from outside the dream. They are manifestations of aspects of the psychology of Laura: Diane is Laura herself, Cooper is the part of her that desires to reveal and know the truth she has suppressed, while Gordon is the part of Laura actively tries to obscure and confuse the truth, to protect Laura from the knowledge she cannot bear, like Charlie’s phone call to Tina, Gordon reveals very little and encodes what he does reveal.
We won’t see Gordon again, because after 25 years Cooper is going to fulfill his mission.
So there is now only Diane and Cooper. I’ve already posited Diane as a cypher for Laura, but let’s stop for a minute and consider Cooper. At this point he is Cooper, not Mr. C with Bob, not DougieCoop, he is Federal Bureau of Investigations Special Agent Dale B. Cooper, himself.
But if Diane is a representation of Laura, who does Cooper represent here? I would say Cooper represents Leland. And here at this motel Diane revisits her rape at the hands of Mr. C (itself a reimagining of Leland’s rape of Laura).
For Laura-as-Diane, she is treading closer to the suppressed thing that she wants to know, her own secrets, Judy, Billy, that symbol on the Ace of Spades.
Remember how Phillip Jeffries told Mr. C “you already met Judy”? Judy is the secret thing, for Laura the secret thing is her fathers abuse of her. And she already knows it. But she repressed it (we see this clearly in FWWM).
(As an aside, prior to entering the motel room with Cooper, Diane splits again. It is very possible that here is where the plan first comes apart: the unified Diane/Laura panics at the proposition of going through with the plan and splits into two again.
(Remember Diane, worried at the 430 location, saying “you don’t have to do this, Cooper”? Bob has been defeated, Mr. C is sent back, leaving the Good Cooper in his proper place, and the Twin Peaks dream ends. It seems Diane/Laura feels that’s good enough. No need to go any further, but Cooper presses on.
(We literally see the second Diane appear and disappear into the Red Room (compare the subtle light flash on her face to the light cast on Cooper’s face the second time Laura disappears in the woods that puts him back sitting in the Red Room with Philip Gerard)).
To be continued? If you are getting something out of this I can try to take it all the way to the end of Part 18. If it doesn’t grab you, no big deal. I enjoyed getting it out of my head and onto paper.
I feel like I’m watching it again-for-the-first-time reading this. What a trip!
Absolutely please keep going! I never did a rewatch of The Return but I might try it again with this as a “guide”.
But what was “the plan” you mentioned earlier again?
And what’s the meaning behind the Dream with Monica Belluci?? I know I’m all over the place - that’s because I haven’t seen any of this in a few years but remember it fairly well all things considered, with a few scenes really sticking out in my mind.u/Armoogeddon
“The Plan” is Cooper’s Plan with Maj. Briggs that Gordon mentions: two birds with one stone (the same phrase the Fireman uses). It’s never clear exactly what that means.
I’ll take a swing at the Bellucci dream (later), I have a feeing about it, but I’ve never tried to analyze it directly.
Once you recognize these repeating motifs, you start to see the Laura story pushing into the Twin Peaks narrative, you can see the two worlds idea as they overlap. That’ll make for a rewarding rewatch.
Continuing from the 430 mile threshold:
Being the “real” Diane reunited with the “real” Cooper could have been Laura’s new Twin Peaks dream, but the part of Laura that fuels Cooper, the desire to know the repressed truth, pushes on despite her own protestations, and Diane agrees.
Like Audrey, she’d wanted to stay and she wanted to go. Like Audrey she wasn’t sure if she should go, but she went and soon, like Audrey, she won’t be able to face it. In the morning in the motel room this Diane, who was to replace “Linda,” will have disappeared.
We can go back to Cooper being told by the “American Girl” (Ronette Pulaski) “when you get there, you’ll already be there” to understand how this works. We saw this play out in the beginning of Season 3 when Cooper replaced Dougie. He arrived in the role of Dougie.
This time he will be “Richard” and Diane will be “Linda” driving in the car, then checking into the motel.
Here’s where the two Dianes happen. One inside the car and one outside the car.
There’s a subtle flash of light on Diane’s face in the car, similar to the one on Cooper’s face in the woods earlier in the episode when Laura disappeared and Cooper returned to the Red Room, and to Phillip Gerard asking “is it future or is it past?” and with that flash, the second Diane is gone.
But is it Diane, or is it Linda? Is it the part of Laura that wants to know, or the part that is actively suppressing the memory?
If we follow the idea of Twin Peaks re-experiencing Laura’s trauma abstractly, she is again getting close to the actual moment she realized Leland was Bob in FWWM. Bad Cooper’s rape of Diane was an abstraction of Leland’s rape of Laura.
In that scene in FWWM the actual Laura Palmer willed herself to see the truth, looking directly into the face of Bob until the truth was revealed to her. But this Diane is unsure, as Audrey was in her story arc. As their coupling proceeds she begins to forcefully cover his face and then turns her face up and away from him.
Looking away from the truth was what allowed Bob to remain in Laura’ consciousness.
Denying to himself the reality of what he was doing to his daughter allowed Leland to “be” Bob.
So who’s missing from the picture?
The Mother. Looking away.
The horse is the white of the eye. Sarah sees the horse after allowing herself to be drugged in FWWM and drugged as she lay crawling at the foot of the stairs as Leland kills Madeline in Season 2.
Remembering that her father was Bob and he was molesting her is Laura’s repressed memory. But what hides behind it is even worse, the fact she has never faced.
Sarah let it happen.
Here is where you’ll find Judy.
In the morning only Cooper remains, and it is Cooper. One way to read this is Diane did not “become” Linda, the Linda that WAS there is still there. So Linda doesn’t recognize Richard and leaves in the night. She “doesn’t recognize him anymore” because he IS Cooper, and so Cooper wakes up alone.
Between Cooper waking in the motel room, and his exiting of the more modern hotel facade, we have no way of knowing how much time has elapsed. The edit hides the passage of time. Has Cooper been searching for days, months, years? The extreme wear on his nearly bald tires indicates he’s be traveling a long time.
If you’re still with me, let me know and I’ll analyze the Odessa conclusion. With what I’ve written so far, you might already see where this is heading.
Hell yes let’s keep going!u/Armoogeddon
I’m going to leave Laura/Diane/Audrey for a bit, jump over Judy’s Diner and Carrie’s House and take a look at Cooper’s arrival with Carrie at the Palmer house.
As with the multiple echoes of Laura’s rape (there’s a couple I didn’t mention) the scene with Cooper And Carrie at the Palmer house is foreshadowed numerous times throughout season 3 including:
• ⁠DougieCoop with Jade and her $5 bill in front of the Silver Mustang’s revolving doors
• ⁠DougieCoop with the limo driver and his “jackpots” in front of Dougie and Janie-e’s Red-doored home
• ⁠BadCoop and Richard with the coordinates in front of the “big rock”
In each of these scenes a version of Cooper is driven to a location by someone else, he approaches a doorway/threshold and experiences an unexpected reaction.
• ⁠DougieCoop gets hit by the revolving doors (twice) as he enters the casino
• ⁠DougieCoop gets a hard slap from Janie-e in front of their house
• ⁠Cooper’s “son” Richard is electrocuted into oblivion before his eyes
By loosening the parameters a bit more and and inverting the nature of the outcome, we can include:
• ⁠Dougie is driven to the desert (by that same limo driver) carrying a cherry pie in a box (instead of his jackpots) to a place where he was to be murdered, but instead he saves not only himself, he returns money rightfully belonging to the Mitchum brothers. “A wrong has been made right....”
This scene is indicative of the rather miraculous positive change that seems to follow DougieCoop. Despite negative occurrences and potentially disastrous outcomes DougieCoop has come out on top. Where Bad Cooper’s situation may not help him, but like with Dougie’s positive side-effects, it’s hard to see the destruction of Richard Horne as anything but good news for Twin Peaks.
Does Cooper remember these things now that he is the complete himself again, having driven Carrie from Odessa to Washington? Will they come back to him as from a dream triggered by the unfolding scenario, like the dream of the Mitchum brother?
Can we equate Alice Treymond’s unsatisfactory answers and door closed in his face to the doors hitting Dougie, Janie-e slapping Dougie, and the destruction via electricity of Richard Horne? Or is that flash and power cut the equivalent?
If we do equate the two, then what follows is possibly the true end of Twin Peaks. But is it a “good” end?
There are other “recurring” scenarios that weave through season 3.
One I haven’t addressed here are the scene from FWWM where Philip Gerard accosts Leland and Laura in their car from his truck. The death of the child at the hands of Richard Horne behind the wheel of a truck at that same intersection in Season 3, also evoked by the nighttime arrival of the Woodsman in the road in Part 8, again in the scene after the gunshot at the Double R.
If you do a rewatch, keep an eye out for these repetitions, from either within season 3, or the echoes from Fire Walk With Me. If I was to describe what was going on, I would say there are two stories, the story of Cooper and the story of Laura.
We start with and follow Agent Cooper’s story but throughout it’s Laura’s story constantly trying to assert itself within that tale. Usually when things start seeming inexplicable in the narrative, what we are witnessing are The Last Seven Days of Laura Palmer asserting themselves.
And not only between season 3 and FWWM. Even within FWWM alone, this structure is in effect. Compare the “wash your hands” dinner scene with the Missing Pieces “meeting above the convenience store.”
As Leland instructs Cooper in The Red Room, we should try to “find Laura.”
Anyway, as always it’s just my interpretation. If you find it compelling, awesome. If you don’t feel it, that’s cool too. There’s a lot in there to think about.
This is fascinating. With the parallel stories you’re suggesting with Cooper and Laura, it has me wondering if there was an intended meaning in the title “Twin Peaks”.
Regardless of whether your interpretation matches Lynch’s intention, it’s viability is enough to have a stronger appreciation for The Return. A literal translation certainly doesn’t work.
I still have so many questions. What’s with that floating face in the prison cell? Is Laura opening her face to reveal a bright light meant to imply life/after life/escape from psychosis? Is she in an asylum throughout all this? What’s with 1-1-9?
Huge thanks for the thought provoking analysis!u/Armoogeddon
You’re welcome! I’ve enjoyed putting my thoughts into words.
I’m not sure about the white light, but there’s an interesting visual echo between that scene and Diane in the Red Room.
The head floating away in the jail cell, the golden light floating away from the boy run over by Richard Horne, the golden orb kissed by Dido that flies away through the screen, Naido thrown off the cube floating in infinity, even Ronette thrown from the train car in FWWM.
I think previously I had mentioned Diane, raped by Mr C then taken to a “gas station,” the Room Above the Convenience store, where I supposed that was where the “Tulpa” was created while the “real” Diane was hidden away in Naido. That follows the pattern.
Trauma, a split, one part is sent away while the other remains to face an ordeal.
I once described it like this here on the subreddit:
Imagine there was something you couldn’t face about yourself, so you buried the memory so deep you could not remember it.
You can remember that something is hidden from you though, so you try to find out what it is.
You consciously try to recover the memory, while your subconscious moves and encodes the hidden truth in dreams.
One day in a dream you get really close to it and for a second, you now know something that you can’t face about yourself, so you bury it so deep you could not remember it.
Time and time again.
You should combine these posts into a single thread and post on the sub.u/Armoogeddon
Not a bad idea. I'll try to re-edit them into one piece this weekend, thanks!
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Summary of the 2019 New South Wales State election parties & independents

This is a cross post from a Medium article I wrote about this, I thought it might be interesting as the state election is next week.


The NSW State election is approaching. I decided it was time to find out what each of the parties had to say about their policies. What follows is a brief summary of all the independents and political parties running stand for. I have done by best to provide a good faith reading of these parties and, when relevant, have attempted to clearly notate any editorial comments.

Legislative council parties:

Shooters, Fishers, and Farmers

The Shooters, Fishers, and Farmers are an agrarian, social conservative, and libertarian party whose policy platform is based around ending the government regulation of environmental protections and standards, as well as laws about maintaining native biodiversity which often conflicts with crop plantings. Their main goal is to remove the ability of external forces (governments, courts, or activists) from interfering with the direct commercial goals of land owners as they prize individual property rights which they believe as violated by land reform legislation. Beyond this, they also aim to assist NSW farmers by pushing for drought assistance to combat the current prolonged drought, as well as pushing for further tax cuts aimed at farmers.
Like many other current right-wing groups, they have coalesced behind supporting the end of renewable subsidies and pushing for the building of more coal power stations. Uniquely, they also want to end the interconnection of NSW power to other states in a pseudo-isolationist move. This also means that they oppose many policies about regulating carbon and other pollutants, however as they also support deregulated fishing they are currently signalling their difference from the NSW National Party by wanting to prevent further mass fish deaths in the Murray Darling River.
As part of their right-wing libertarian streak, this consists of ending most government regulation of gun control, whilst also signalling support of ‘tough on crime’ policies and supporting the police and prison guards.

Socialist Alliance

The Socialist Alliance is a traditional socialist political party who are focused providing a more egalitarian society where wealthy individuals and corporations pay aggressively higher taxes to fund re-distributive policies increase the standard of living for lower income peoples. They also want to expand public transport along with taking privatised assets back into public ownership.
They also want to switch to a renewable energy economy and make NSW explicitly anti-racist and a safe haven for refugees. They also believe that our current electoral system is flawed so they wish to introduce a series of electoral reforms to introduce electoral recalls at all levels, and make all levels of government proportional instead of our current mix of representative and proportional government.

Sustainable Australia

Sustainable Australia is focused on what they see as the issue with our current immigration rate. Under their ideological view, having a high immigration is detrimental to Australia as it causes “over-development”, as their website claims, as well as increasing housing costs, and environmental damage. Whilst not explicitly stating it, they appear to be planning on addressing the predicted losses in economic growth from their policies through diversifying the economy. This anti-immigration view covers refugees, as whilst they will allow them to enter the country they believe they should stay around their local region and work be done to improve safety there.
From their policy platform, it appears as if Sustainable Australia wants to limit overseas trade as they have policies on restarting Australian manufacturingjobs, which would assist our economy if we were no longer utilising low cost overseas manufacturing sources. However, they appear to be on-board with the current environmental consensus as they want to transition to a renewable energy economy and want to protect natural lands.

Greens

As one of the minor major parties, most of their policy platform should be somewhat known. It is dominated by their positions on the environment where they want to rapidly transition towards an entirely renewable energy sector, as well as more general policies about reversing environmental pollution of air, land, and water-bodies. Broadly, they are the most prominent socially and economically progressive party in NSW at the moment. However, they are anti-genetically modified crops [Ed. note — this is due to a flawed belief that ‘organic’ food is better than modified, which is not supported by any current research consensus.]
Of note is a current “civil war” within the NSW Greens between the two faction which respectively believe that the Greens should be focused entirely on the environment, and the other who believe that they should be a vehicle for broader democratic socialist policies. However, there has yet to be any noticeable policy arguments (publicly at least) around this, so the factional struggle may be personality based.

Animal Justice Party

The animal justice party is a leftist political organisation based strongly around broadening animal rights and protections. The majority of their policies are to do with ending the killing, or harming of animals in any way. Seem to want to end the use of companion animals (pets) in general but are addressing that bit by bit by limiting how you can adopt animals. They also view population growth as bad for animals and the environment and thus believe we should keep growth at replacement rate, which implies limiting immigration. However, limited policy detail on environmental and climate action policies, broadly says we need a carbon tax and to shift to a renewable power economy.

Advance

Advance is actually a coalition of the Advance Australia Party and the Motoring Enthusiasts. Their policies goals seem to be addressing housing affordability, increasing Sydney’s desirability as a tourist destination, anti-gambling — specifically Barangaroo, desiring the return of the Sydney Monorail — which appears to be driven by their distaste of the Light Rail, pro-electric cars, and “fixing the roads”. Not sure on their political alignment, appear to be a centrist neoliberal party without a social justice platform or any re-distributive policies.

FLUX

Ah, FLUX. FLUX is not a political party in the traditional sense as they have no actual policies in of themselves. They’re a single issue party, which wants to more or less end our Representational Democracy model and replace it with an electronic platform which is a mix of Direct, Representational, and Delegate Democracy where you use ‘an app’ to either directly vote, or nominate someone to vote for you on every piece of legislation in parliament. Legislation, which I assume is also crowd sourced?
[Ed. note — INTERESTING. Meow-Ludo Meow-Meow (real person) who has been a candidate for the Science Party (formerly the Future Party, now running as the James Jansson group) for the last couple of elections has moved to FLUX and is the candidate for Willoughby. You may know him as the dude who put the OPAL chip inside his hand.]

LaboCountry Labor

NSW Labor has a typical modern centre-left policy platform. However, of note is their recent moves to ban single use plastic bags, phase out single use plastics, invest ~$140 million into local recycling projects, and of particular note they claim to want to seek a treaty with the NSW indigenous peopleswhich would replicate similar treaties in Canada and New Zealand. This treaty would cover: recognition of historical wrongs, addressing health and education services, and language rights.
This election, NSW Labor is trying to differentiate themselves from the Liberal Party by emphasising their goals to decrease housing and hospital costs, as well as addressing industrial concerns, such as wage theft and underpayment, as well as providing increased services such as more education facilities and free public transport for children. Another policy difference is their goal to divert the currently allocated funds for stadium redevelopments towards other policies such as renewable powered air conditioning for public schools.
They also wish to legislate 10 days paid domestic violence pay, in addition to investing $158 million towards building new domestic violence and sexual assault courts, increased victim compensation, and increased funding to shelters and advocacy groups.

Liberal/The Nationals

The Liberal/National coalition will be running this campaign based on their record over the last eight years which has constituted increased building of private toll motorways as well as the building of more commuter lines, specifically the light rail and North-West Metro. The party however has been dogged by their more draconian policies around nightlife and music policiesin general. This has been paired with their alleged failures on environmental policies based on the recent spate of mass fish deaths in regional NSW resulting from widespread rorting of water resources by the large commercial cotton farms.

Australian Conservatives

The Australian Conservatives are a factional splinter of the Liberal Party of Australia. They were started by Cory Bernardi who left the party because of his views of the “corrosive left” of the Liberal Party. As such, they are an extremely conservative party. Their policy agenda does not meaningfully move away from orthodox right-wing business politics, and government regulation, as they are libertarian on this front. Their main focus is on ‘white resentment’ politics. This is as their most detailed policy statements deal with ending “gender reassignment” and “political indoctrination”. Their main goals is to realign Australian with their conservative views on what it means to be an Australian, that is to be white and hetero-normative [Ed.]. Broadly they are quite similar to the current Republican party in American in terms of their social and economic views. This party is part of the current wave of populist(whilst not actually being populist as their policies will benefit the 1% primarily) “Western Civilisation” politics based around Nationalism and anti-leftism.

Keep Sydney Open

Keep Sydney Open appear to be a civil libertarian party based around getting the government and its regulation out of the music scene and Sydney nightlife. Their main party agenda is the end the Sydney Lockout laws and the current government’s policies around policing music festivals. Have no really stated political goals outside of this niche beyond some language around a stronger ICAC, and introducing 24 hr public transport. Of note, not actually running a candidate in the Seat of Sydney, where the lockout laws apply.

Liberal Democrats

The Liberal Democrats are an aggressively libertarian party whose only elected member is David Leyonhjelm. The main thrust of this party is promoting “individual liberty”, which is mostly expressed as reducing the ability of governments to enact regulatory legislation, and letting businesses pay less tax. They see effectively no place for the government beyond Defence, and maintaining property rights.
Editorial: the Liberal Democrats use a very American strategy of campaigning, which is “triggering the left”. They’ve also engaged in sexist and racist behaviours in their effort to gain votes from the same constituency of One Nation, Australian Conservatives, and Men’s Rights Activists.

Voluntary Euthanasia Party

The VEP are a single issue party, and that is enacting legislation for voluntary assisted dying. They appear to be a party dedicated to ensuring quality of life up until death through both allowing death to happen on your own terms, increasing palliative care, and improving access to medical cannabis. Beyond that, they claim to be a moderate progressive party and will vote on a case by case basis for all legislation under that framework.

Christian Democratic Party

Otherwise known as the Fred Nile Christian Democratic party. A Christian religious party aiming to “glorify God in government”. Under that framework, are pro-business. Their main niche is ensuring that NSW remains a tacitly Christian state by legislating SRE classes (they’re the ones who made SRE mandatory and that you have to specifically opt out, whilst also making information about that hard to find). This party is extremely conservative about sexuality and gender identity and believe that there is only two gendersand you should only be heterosexual, and thus want to remove the Safe Schools program.

Small Business Party

Another neoliberal business party whose policy focus is on cutting business taxes and regulation, claiming they’re a drain on the economy. This extends to wanting to reduce housing Stamp duties and power prices. Also are anti-immigration as they claiming current NSW immigration is unsustainable and there is no place for them here. [Ed. note — current immigration rate is reason we’re not in a recession at the moment.]

Pauline Hanson’s One Nation

One Nation is the most prevalent of the current Australian mainstream populist (whilst not being popular) ‘white resentment’ political parties. Under the NSW leader Mark Latham — who has a colourful past — the party has taken a specifically Men’s Rights Activist lens as it has explicit platforms on their idea that white men are being repressed in our society.
Outlaw the new Left-wing discrimination against men, boys, Christians and white people, including a ban on discriminatory ‘employment quotas’ and segregationist ‘safe spaces’ — One Nation policy outline
This platform extends towards explicitly racist policies, and removing recognition of transgender people’s rights. These policies manifest themselves through their anti-Islamist rhetoric, claiming that they’ll end “Islamic Radicalisation in schools”, being anti-multiculturalism, and putting forward a policy that only individuals who “pass” a genetic test [Ed. note — which is bullshit] can get Indigenous peoples specific social welfare.
These policies around Indigenous peoples also extend to the Indigenous Land Reform Councils as they claim they’re hoarding billions of dollars which should be taken. Like other prominent white resentment parties, One Nation also supports pro-business reforms such as protectionist policies to maintain monopolies, and cutting their taxes and regulations, as well as being anti-renewable energy and fixated on coal power.

Seniors United Party of Australia (group G)

The Seniors United Party is pushing forward a policy agenda aimed specifically at senior citizens, such as being focused on increased funding and undoing of Liberal/National cuts to superannuation. They also wants oversight and regulation of aged care providers. However, like many other parties running in this election, they are a anti-immigration party and wants to see reduced in overall migration levels.

Monaghan and Monaghan (group H)

This is a husband and wife duo from the northern beaches and the majority of policies appear to be focused on a “not in my backyard (NIMBY)” agenda in regards to the Northern Beaches. However also wants to ban brothels and 24/7 gambling, and very specifically the Woolworths in Mosman.

Jeremy Buckingham Greens splinter group (group L)

Buckingham is a former Greens MLC who left/got kicked out of the party over allegations he committed an act of “sexual violence”* towards a staff member. This was investigated and dropped due to insufficient evidence to substantiate the allegation. Teamed up with Alan Jones to help stop coal seam gas mining
His policies are a little hard to nail down as his content is limited on his website, but based around his previous statements it broadly aligns with the environmental aspects of his former party, the NSW Greens. Of note however, is his desired collaboration with American Tech Baron, Elon Musk, to build a tunnel through the Blue Mountains from Western Sydney to Lithgow.
\allegation was revealed under parliamentary privilege by Newtown MP Jenny Leong. May have been done as part of the current NSW Greens civil war over whether or not they should be a climate action party or a more broadly socialist party.*

James Jansson (group S)

A re-branding of the Science Party as they aren’t registered at State level. Focused on increased transportation, housing density, etc. Seem to be greenish Radical Centrist party with focus on changing regulation and increasing funding without really rocking the boat or doing anything substantial.

Various Independents

Tony Edwards: no clear policy directions stated, with more of a general anti-right perspective.
Ellie Robinson: Anti-corruption platform and wants to address climate change, disability rights, animal justice, indigenous rights.
John Brett: anti-national debt candidate, focus on removing foreign involvement and getting more people back into trade jobs.
Ron Bogan: pro euthanasia, helping out senior citizens, pro-National Energy Guarantee (therefore neoliberal on climate action), focus on the Shire and Western Sydney. Campaign slogan — “put a bogan in parliament”
John Hunter: no information online about him.
Bryn Hutchinson: “progressive independent” — focus on police accountability and a NSW Human Rights Act.
Danny Lim: this is the guy with the billboard hanging around Newtown and the city who’s billboard said “Tony [Abbott] you cvn’t.” From what I can find, running principles of egalitarianism, anti-racism, broadly leftist, pro-renewable energy, investing in public healthcare, removing private healthcare insurance rebate, increasing refugee intake.
Andre Brokman: found his Medium blog — pro-Council amalgamations to increase centralisation and reduce ‘chaos’ in Sydney planning, appears to be a transportation enthusiast. His bio: “Andre Brokman is a full time city planning student and part time uber driver”
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