Roadside Perception Cameras report published by QYResearch reveals that COVID-19 and Russia-Ukraine War impacted the market dually in 2022. Global Roadside Perception Cameras market is projected to reach US$ million in 2029, increasing from US$ million in 2022, with the CAGR of % during the period of 2023 to 2029. Demand from Highway and City Road are the major drivers for the industry.
Global Roadside Perception Cameras Market: Driven factors and Restrictions factors
The research report encompasses a comprehensive analysis of the factors that affect the growth of the market. It includes an evaluation of trends, restraints, and drivers that influence the market positively or negatively. The report also outlines the potential impact of different segments and applications on the market in the future. The information presented is based on historical milestones and current trends, providing a detailed analysis of the production volume for each type from 2018 to 2029, as well as the production volume by region during the same period.
QYResearch announces the release of the report “Global Roadside Perception Cameras Market Report, History and Forecast 2018-2029, Breakdown Data by Manufacturers, Key Regions, Types and Application”. Based on historical analysis (2018-2022) and forecast calculations (2023-2029), this report provides a detailed analysis of the production volume for each type from 2018 to 2029, as well as production by region during the same period. It aims to help readers gain a comprehensive understanding of the global Roadside Perception Cameras market with multiple angles, which provides sufficient supports to readers’ strategy and decision making. As the market is constantly changing, the report explores competition, supply and demand trends, as well as the key factors that contribute to its changing demands across many markets.
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The report also includes a pricing analysis for each type, manufacturer, region, and global price from 2018 to 2029. This information will help stakeholders make informed decisions and develop effective strategies for growth. The report's analysis of the restraints in the market is crucial for strategic planning as it helps stakeholders understand the challenges that could hinder growth. This information will enable stakeholders to devise effective strategies to overcome these challenges and capitalize on the opportunities presented by the growing market. Furthermore, the report incorporates the opinions of market experts to provide valuable insights into the market's dynamics. This information will help stakeholders gain a better understanding of the market and make informed decisions.
Some of the Key Questions Answered in this Report:
What is the Roadside Perception Cameras market size at the regional and country-level
What are the key drivers, restraints, opportunities, and challenges of the Roadside Perception Cameras market, and how they are expected to impact the market
What is the global (North America, Europe, Asia-Pacific, Latin America, Middle East and Africa) sales value, production value, consumption value, import and export of Roadside Perception Cameras
Who are the global key manufacturers of the Roadside Perception Cameras Industry,How is their operating situation (capacity, production, sales, price, cost, gross, and revenue)
What are the Roadside Perception Cameras market opportunities and threats faced by the vendors in the global Roadside Perception Cameras Industry
Which application/end-user or product type may seek incremental growth prospects, What is the market share of each type and application
What focused approach and constraints are holding the Roadside Perception Cameras market
What are the different sales, marketing, and distribution channels in the global industry
What are the upstream raw materials and of Roadside Perception Cameras along with the manufacturing process of Roadside Perception Cameras
What are the key market trends impacting the growth of the Roadside Perception Cameras market
Economic impact on the Roadside Perception Cameras industry and development trend of the Roadside Perception Cameras industry
What are the Roadside Perception Cameras market opportunities, market risk, and market overview of the Roadside Perception Cameras market
The Roadside Perception Cameras market is segmented as below:
Market segment by Type
Traditional Camera
AI Camera
Market segment by Application
Highway
City Road
Others
Major players covered
Wanji Technology
CIDI
Huawei
Dahua Technology
Hualue Cloud
Hikvision Digital Technology
Ztits
DeGuRoon
Uniview
Baidu
Each chapter of the report provides detailed information for readers to understand the Roadside Perception Cameras market further:
Chapter 1: Roadside Perception Cameras Market Product Definition, Product Types, Volume and Revenue analysis of Each Type in North America, Europe, Asia-Pacific, Latin America, Middle East and Africa from 2018 to 2023.
Chapter 2: Roadside Perception Cameras Market Manufacturer Competition Status, including Sales and Revenue comparison, Manufacturers’ commercial date of Roadside Perception Cameras, product type offered by each manufacturer, Mergers & Acquisitions activities, Expansion activities occurred in the Roadside Perception Cameras industry.
Chapter 3: Roadside Perception Cameras Market Historical (2018-2022) and forecast (2023-2029) volume and revenue analysis of Roadside Perception Cameras in North America, Europe, Asia-Pacific, Latin America, Middle East and Africa.
Chapter 4: Roadside Perception Cameras Product Application, Volume and Revenue analysis of Each Application in North America, Europe, Asia-Pacific, Latin America, Middle East and Africa from 2018 to 2023.
Chapter 5 to 9: Roadside Perception Cameras Country Level analysis of North America, Europe, Asia-Pacific, Latin America, Middle East and Africa, including volume and revenue analysis.
Chapter 10: Roadside Perception Cameras Market Manufacturers’ Outline, covering company’s basic information like headquarter, contact information, major business, Roadside Perception Cameras introduction, etc. Roadside Perception Cameras Sales, Revenue, Price and Gross Margin of each company as well as Recent Development are also contained in this part.
Chapter 11: Industry Chain, like raw materials, manufacturing cost, are covered. In addition, market opportunities and challenges are emphasized as well in the chapter.
Chapter 12: Market Channel, Distributors and Customers are listed.
Chapter 13: QYResearch’s Conclusions of Roadside Perception Cameras market based on comprehensive survey.
Chapter 14: Methodology and Data Sources.
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When I was brand new to NovelAi I had no idea how 2048 tokens really looked as text. So for anyone looking at the tiers, trying to decide how many tokens they want for Clio with the new update, I've tokenized Part of The Great Gatsby by Scott Fitzgerald (public domain since 2021).
That way new users can more easily visualize what the AI's maximum context is for each tier. According to the UI Clio uses the NerdStash Tokenizer, as different tokenizers will convert text to tokens their own way.
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In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since.
“Whenever you feel like criticizing anyone,” he told me, “just remember that all the people in this world haven’t had the advantages that you’ve had.”
He didn’t say any more, but we’ve always been unusually communicative in a reserved way, and I understood that he meant a great deal more than that. In consequence, I’m inclined to reserve all judgements, a habit that has opened up many curious natures to me and also made me the victim of not a few veteran bores. The abnormal mind is quick to detect and attach itself to this quality when it appears in a normal person, and so it came about that in college I was unjustly accused of being a politician, because I was privy to the secret griefs of wild, unknown men. Most of the confidences were unsought—frequently I have feigned sleep, preoccupation, or a hostile levity when I realized by some unmistakable sign that an intimate revelation was quivering on the horizon; for the intimate revelations of young men, or at least the terms in which they express them, are usually plagiaristic and marred by obvious suppressions. Reserving judgements is a matter of infinite hope. I am still a little afraid of missing something if I forget that, as my father snobbishly suggested, and I snobbishly repeat, a sense of the fundamental decencies is parcelled out unequally at birth.
And, after boasting this way of my tolerance, I come to the admission that it has a limit. Conduct may be founded on the hard rock or the wet marshes, but after a certain point I don’t care what it’s founded on. When I came back from the East last autumn I felt that I wanted the world to be in uniform and at a sort of moral attention forever; I wanted no more riotous excursions with privileged glimpses into the human heart. Only Gatsby, the man who gives his name to this book, was exempt from my reaction—Gatsby, who represented everything for which I have an unaffected scorn. If personality is an unbroken series of successful gestures, then there was something gorgeous about him, some heightened sensitivity to the promises of life, as if he were related to one of those intricate machines that register earthquakes ten thousand miles away. This responsiveness had nothing to do with that flabby impressionability which is dignified under the name of the “creative temperament”—it was an extraordinary gift for hope, a romantic readiness such as I have never found in any other person and which it is not likely I shall ever find again. No—Gatsby turned out all right at the end; it is what preyed on Gatsby, what foul dust floated in the wake of his dreams that temporarily closed out my interest in the abortive sorrows and short-winded elations of men.
My family have been prominent, well-to-do people in this Middle Western city for three generations. The Carraways are something of a clan, and we have a tradition that we’re descended from the Dukes of Buccleuch, but the actual founder of my line was my grandfather’s brother, who came here in fifty-one, sent a substitute to the Civil War, and started the wholesale hardware business that my father carries on today.
I never saw this great-uncle, but I’m supposed to look like him—with special reference to the rather hard-boiled painting that hangs in father’s office. I graduated from New Haven in 1915, just a quarter of a century after my father, and a little later I participated in that delayed Teutonic migration known as the Great War. I enjoyed the counter-raid so thoroughly that I came back restless. Instead of being the warm centre of the world, the Middle West now seemed like the ragged edge of the universe—so I decided to go East and learn the bond business. Everybody I knew was in the bond business, so I supposed it could support one more single man. All my aunts and uncles talked it over as if they were choosing a prep school for me, and finally said, “Why—ye-es,” with very grave, hesitant faces. Father agreed to finance me for a year, and after various delays I came East, permanently, I thought, in the spring of twenty-two.
The practical thing was to find rooms in the city, but it was a warm season, and I had just left a country of wide lawns and friendly trees, so when a young man at the office suggested that we take a house together in a commuting town, it sounded like a great idea. He found the house, a weather-beaten cardboard bungalow at eighty a month, but at the last minute the firm ordered him to Washington, and I went out to the country alone. I had a dog—at least I had him for a few days until he ran away—and an old Dodge and a Finnish woman, who made my bed and cooked breakfast and muttered Finnish wisdom to herself over the electric stove.
It was lonely for a day or so until one morning some man, more recently arrived than I, stopped me on the road.
“How do you get to West Egg village?” he asked helplessly.
I told him. And as I walked on I was lonely no longer. I was a guide, a pathfinder, an original settler. He had casually conferred on me the freedom of the neighbourhood.
And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees, just as things grow in fast movies, I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer.
There was so much to read, for one thing, and so much fine health to be pulled down out of the young breath-giving air. I bought a dozen volumes on banking and credit and investment securities, and they stood on my shelf in red and gold like new money from the mint, promising to unfold the shining secrets that only Midas and Morgan and Maecenas knew. And I had the high intention of reading many other books besides. I was rather literary in college—one year I wrote a series of very solemn and obvious editorials for the Yale News—and now I was going to bring back all such things into my life and become again that most limited of all specialists, the “well-rounded man.” This isn’t just an epigram—life is much more successfully looked at from a single window, after all.
It was a matter of chance that I should have rented a house in one of the strangest communities in North America. It was on that slender riotous island which extends itself due east of New York—and where there are, among other natural curiosities, two unusual formations of land. Twenty miles from the city a pair of enormous eggs, identical in contour and separated only by a courtesy bay, jut out into the most domesticated body of salt water in the Western hemisphere, the great wet barnyard of Long Island Sound. They are not perfect ovals—like the egg in the Columbus story, they are both crushed flat at the contact end—but their physical resemblance must be a source of perpetual wonder to the gulls that fly overhead. To the wingless a more interesting phenomenon is their dissimilarity in every particular except shape and size.
I lived at West Egg, the—well, the less fashionable of the two, though this is a most superficial tag to express the bizarre and not a little sinister contrast between them. My house was at the very tip of the egg, only fifty yards from the Sound, and squeezed between two huge places that rented for twelve or fifteen thousand a season. The one on my right was a colossal affair by any standard—it was a factual imitation of some Hôtel de Ville in Normandy, with a tower on one side, spanking new under a thin beard of raw ivy, and a marble swimming pool, and more than forty acres of lawn and garden. It was Gatsby’s mansion. Or, rather, as I didn’t know Mr. Gatsby, it was a mansion inhabited by a gentleman of that name. My own house was an eyesore, but it was a small eyesore, and it had been overlooked, so I had a view of the water, a partial view of my neighbour’s lawn, and the consoling proximity of millionaires—all for eighty dollars a month.
Across the courtesy bay the white palaces of fashionable East Egg glittered along the water, and the history of the summer really begins on the evening I drove over there to have dinner with the Tom Buchanans. Daisy was my second cousin once removed, and I’d known Tom in college. And just after the war I spent two days with them in Chicago.
Her husband, among various physical accomplishments, had been one of the most powerful ends that ever played football at New Haven—a national figure in a way, one of those men who reach such an acute limited excellence at twenty-one that everything afterward savours of anticlimax. His family were enormously wealthy—even in college his freedom with money was a matter for reproach—but now he’d left Chicago and come East in a fashion that rather took your breath away: for instance, he’d brought down a string of polo ponies from Lake Forest. It was hard to realize that a man in my own generation was wealthy enough to do that.
Why they came East I don’t know. They had spent a year in France for no particular reason, and then drifted here and there unrestfully wherever people played polo and were rich together. This was a permanent move, said Daisy over the telephone, but I didn’t believe it—I had no sight into Daisy’s heart, but I felt that Tom would drift on forever seeking, a little wistfully, for the dramatic turbulence of some irrecoverable football game.
And so it happened that on a warm windy evening I drove over to East Egg to see two old friends whom I scarcely knew at all. Their house was even more elaborate than I expected, a cheerful red-and-white Georgian Colonial mansion, overlooking the bay. The lawn started at the beach and ran towards the front door for a quarter of a mile, jumping over sundials and brick walks and burning gardens—finally when it reached the house drifting up the side in bright vines as though from the momentum of its run. The front was broken by a line of French windows, glowing now with reflected gold and wide open to the warm windy afternoon, and Tom Buchanan in riding clothes was standing with his legs apart on the front porch.
He had changed since his New Haven years. Now he was a sturdy straw-haired man of thirty, with a rather hard mouth and a supercilious manner. Two shining arrogant eyes had established dominance over his face and gave him the appearance of always leaning aggressively forward. Not even the effeminate swank of his riding clothes could hide the enormous power of that body—he seemed to fill those glistening boots until he strained the top lacing, and you could see a great pack of muscle shifting when his shoulder moved under his thin coat. It was a body capable of enormous leverage—a cruel body.
His speaking voice, a gruff husky tenor, added to the impression of fractiousness he conveyed. There was a touch of paternal contempt in it, even toward people he liked—and there were men at New Haven who had hated his guts.
“Now, don’t think my opinion on these matters is final,” he seemed to say, “just because I’m stronger and more of a man than you are.” We were in the same senior society, and while we were never intimate I always had the impression that he approved of me and wanted me to like him with some harsh, defiant wistfulness of his own.
We talked for a few minutes on the sunny porch.
“I’ve got a nice place here,” he said, his eyes flashing about restlessly.
Turning me around by one arm, he moved a broad flat hand along the front vista, including in its sweep a sunken Italian garden, a half acre of deep, pungent roses, and a snub-nosed motorboat that bumped the tide offshore.
“It belonged to Demaine, the oil man.” He turned me around again, politely and abruptly. “We’ll go inside.”
We walked through a high hallway into a bright rosy-coloured space, fragilely bound into the house by French windows at either end. The windows were ajar and gleaming white against the fresh grass outside that seemed to grow a little way into the house. A breeze blew through the room, blew curtains in at one end and out the other like pale flags, twisting them up toward the frosted wedding-cake of the ceiling, and then rippled over the wine-coloured rug, making a shadow on it as wind does on the sea.
The only completely stationary object in the room was an enormous couch on which two young women were buoyed up as though upon an anchored balloon. They were both in white, and their dresses were rippling and fluttering as if they had just been blown back in after a short flight around the house. I must have stood for a few moments listening to the whip and snap of the curtains and the groan of a picture on the wall. Then there was a boom as Tom Buchanan shut the rear windows and the caught wind died out about the room, and the curtains and the rugs and the two young women ballooned slowly to the floor.
The younger of the two was a stranger to me. She was extended full length at her end of the divan, completely motionless, and with her chin raised a little, as if she were balancing something on it which was quite likely to fall. If she saw me out of the corner of her eyes she gave no hint of it—indeed, I was almost surprised into murmuring an apology for having disturbed her by coming in.
The other girl, Daisy, made an attempt to rise—she leaned slightly forward with a conscientious expression—then she laughed, an absurd, charming little laugh, and I laughed too and came forward into the room.
“I’m p-paralysed with happiness.”
She
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laughed again, as if she said something very witty, and held my hand for a moment, looking up into my face, promising that there was no one in the world she so much wanted to see. That was a way she had. She hinted in a murmur that the surname of the balancing girl was Baker. (I’ve heard it said that Daisy’s murmur was only to make people lean toward her; an irrelevant criticism that made it no less charming.)
At any rate, Miss Baker’s lips fluttered, she nodded at me almost imperceptibly, and then quickly tipped her head back again—the object she was balancing had obviously tottered a little and given her something of a fright. Again a sort of apology arose to my lips. Almost any exhibition of complete self-sufficiency draws a stunned tribute from me.
I looked back at my cousin, who began to ask me questions in her low, thrilling voice. It was the kind of voice that the ear follows up and down, as if each speech is an arrangement of notes that will never be played again. Her face was sad and lovely with bright things in it, bright eyes and a bright passionate mouth, but there was an excitement in her voice that men who had cared for her found difficult to forget: a singing compulsion, a whispered “Listen,” a promise that she had done gay, exciting things just a while since and that there were gay, exciting things hovering in the next hour.
I told her how I had stopped off in Chicago for a day on my way East, and how a dozen people had sent their love through me.
“Do they miss me?” she cried ecstatically.
“The whole town is desolate. All the cars have the left rear wheel painted black as a mourning wreath, and there’s a persistent wail all night along the north shore.”
“How gorgeous! Let’s go back, Tom. Tomorrow!” Then she added irrelevantly: “You ought to see the baby.”
“I’d like to.”
“She’s asleep. She’s three years old. Haven’t you ever seen her?”
“Never.”
“Well, you ought to see her. She’s—”
Tom Buchanan, who had been hovering restlessly about the room, stopped and rested his hand on my shoulder.
“What you doing, Nick?”
“I’m a bond man.”
“Who with?”
I told him.
“Never heard of them,” he remarked decisively.
This annoyed me.
“You will,” I answered shortly. “You will if you stay in the East.”
“Oh, I’ll stay in the East, don’t you worry,” he said, glancing at Daisy and then back at me, as if he were alert for something more. “I’d be a God damned fool to live anywhere else.”
At this point Miss Baker said: “Absolutely!” with such suddenness that I started—it was the first word she had uttered since I came into the room. Evidently it surprised her as much as it did me, for she yawned and with a series of rapid, deft movements stood up into the room.
“I’m stiff,” she complained, “I’ve been lying on that sofa for as long as I can remember.”
“Don’t look at me,” Daisy retorted, “I’ve been trying to get you to New York all afternoon.”
“No, thanks,” said Miss Baker to the four cocktails just in from the pantry. “I’m absolutely in training.”
Her host looked at her incredulously.
“You are!” He took down his drink as if it were a drop in the bottom of a glass. “How you ever get anything done is beyond me.”
I looked at Miss Baker, wondering what it was she “got done.” I enjoyed looking at her. She was a slender, small-breasted girl, with an erect carriage, which she accentuated by throwing her body backward at the shoulders like a young cadet. Her grey sun-strained eyes looked back at me with polite reciprocal curiosity out of a wan, charming, discontented face. It occurred to me now that I had seen her, or a picture of her, somewhere before.
“You live in West Egg,” she remarked contemptuously. “I know somebody there.”
“I don’t know a single—”
“You must know Gatsby.”
“Gatsby?” demanded Daisy. “What Gatsby?”
Before I could reply that he was my neighbour dinner was announced; wedging his tense arm imperatively under mine, Tom Buchanan compelled me from the room as though he were moving a checker to another square.
Slenderly, languidly, their hands set lightly on their hips, the two young women preceded us out on to a rosy-coloured porch, open toward the sunset, where four candles flickered on the table in the diminished wind.
“Why candles?” objected Daisy, frowning. She snapped them out with her fingers. “In two weeks it’ll be the longest day in the year.” She looked at us all radiantly. “Do you always watch for the longest day of the year and then miss it? I always watch for the longest day in the year and then miss it.”
“We ought to plan something,” yawned Miss Baker, sitting down at the table as if she were getting into bed.
“All right,” said Daisy. “What’ll we plan?” She turned to me helplessly: “What do people plan?”
Before I could answer her eyes fastened with an awed expression on her little finger.
“Look!” she complained; “I hurt it.”
We all looked—the knuckle was black and blue.
“You did it, Tom,” she said accusingly. “I know you didn’t mean to, but you did do it. That’s what I get for marrying a brute of a man, a great, big, hulking physical specimen of a—”
“I hate that word ‘hulking,’ ” objected Tom crossly, “even in kidding.”
“Hulking,” insisted Daisy.
Sometimes she and Miss Baker talked at once, unobtrusively and with a bantering inconsequence that was never quite chatter, that was as cool as their white dresses and their impersonal eyes in the absence of all desire. They were here, and they accepted Tom and me, making only a polite pleasant effort to entertain or to be entertained. They knew that presently dinner would be over and a little later the evening too would be over and casually put away. It was sharply different from the West, where an evening was hurried from phase to phase towards its close, in a continually disappointed anticipation or else in sheer nervous dread of the moment itself.
“You make me feel uncivilized, Daisy,” I confessed on my second glass of corky but rather impressive claret. “Can’t you talk about crops or something?”
I meant nothing in particular by this remark, but it was taken up in an unexpected way.
“Civilization’s going to pieces,” broke out Tom violently. “I’ve gotten to be a terrible pessimist about things. Have you read The Rise of the Coloured Empires by this man Goddard?”
“Why, no,” I answered, rather surprised by his tone.
“Well, it’s a fine book, and everybody ought to read it. The idea is if we don’t look out the white race will be—will be utterly submerged. It’s all scientific stuff; it’s been proved.”
“Tom’s getting very profound,” said Daisy, with an expression of unthoughtful sadness. “He reads deep books with long words in them. What was that word we—”
“Well, these books are all scientific,” insisted Tom, glancing at her impatiently. “This fellow has worked out the whole thing. It’s up to us, who are the dominant race, to watch out or these other races will have control of things.”
“We’ve got to beat them down,” whispered Daisy, winking ferociously toward the fervent sun.
“You ought to live in California—” began Miss Baker, but Tom interrupted her by shifting heavily in his chair.
“This idea is that we’re Nordics. I am, and you are, and you are, and—” After an infinitesimal hesitation he included Daisy with a slight nod, and she winked at me again. “—And we’ve produced all the things that go to make civilization—oh, science and art, and all that. Do you see?”
There was something pathetic in his concentration, as if his complacency, more acute than of old, was not enough to him any more. When, almost immediately, the telephone rang inside and the butler left the porch Daisy seized upon the momentary interruption and leaned towards me.
“I’ll tell you a family secret,” she whispered enthusiastically. “It’s about the butler’s nose. Do you want to hear about the butler’s nose?”
“That’s why I came over tonight.”
“Well, he wasn’t always a butler; he used to be the silver polisher for some people in New York that had a silver service for two hundred people. He had to polish it from morning till night, until finally it began to affect his nose—”
“Things went from bad to worse,” suggested Miss Baker.
“Yes. Things went from bad to worse, until finally he had to give up his position.”
For a moment the last sunshine fell with romantic affection upon her glowing face; her voice compelled me forward breathlessly as I listened—then the glow faded, each light deserting her with lingering regret, like children leaving a pleasant street at dusk.
The butler came back and murmured something close to Tom’s ear, whereupon Tom frowned, pushed back his chair, and without a word went inside. As if his absence quickened something within her, Daisy leaned forward again, her voice glowing and singing.
“I love to see you at my table, Nick. You remind me of a—of a rose, an absolute rose. Doesn’t he?” She turned to Miss Baker for confirmation: “An absolute rose?”
This was untrue. I am not even faintly like a rose. She was only extemporizing, but a stirring warmth flowed from her, as if her heart was trying to come out to you concealed in one of those breathless, thrilling words. Then suddenly she threw her napkin on the table and excused herself and went into the house.
Miss Baker and I exchanged a short glance consciously devoid of meaning. I was about to speak when she sat up alertly and said “Sh!” in a warning voice. A subdued impassioned murmur was audible in the room beyond, and Miss Baker leaned forward unashamed, trying to hear. The murmur trembled on the verge of coherence, sank down, mounted excitedly, and then ceased altogether.
“This Mr. Gatsby you spoke of is my neighbour—” I began.
“Don’t talk. I want to hear what happens.”
“Is something happening?” I inquired innocently.
“You mean to say you don’t know?” said Miss Baker, honestly surprised. “I thought everybody knew.”
“I don’t.”
“Why—” she said hesitantly. “Tom’s got some woman in New York.”
“Got some woman?” I repeated blankly.
Miss Baker nodded.
“She might have the decency not to telephone him at dinner time. Don’t you think?”
Almost before I had grasped her meaning there was the flutter of a dress and the crunch of leather boots, and Tom and Daisy were back at the table.
“It couldn’t be helped!” cried Daisy with tense gaiety.
She sat down, glanced searchingly at Miss Baker and then at me, and continued: “I looked outdoors for a minute, and it’s very romantic outdoors. There’s a bird on the lawn that I think must be a nightingale come over on the Cunard or White Star Line. He’s singing away—” Her voice sang: “It’s romantic, isn’t it, Tom?”
“Very romantic,” he said, and then miserably to me: “If it’s light enough after dinner, I want to take you down to the stables.”
The telephone rang inside, startlingly, and as Daisy shook her head decisively at Tom the subject of the stables, in fact all subjects, vanished into air. Among the broken fragments of the last five minutes at table I remember the candles being lit again, pointlessly, and I was conscious of wanting to look squarely at everyone, and yet to avoid all eyes. I couldn’t guess what Daisy and Tom were thinking, but I doubt if even Miss Baker, who seemed to have mastered a certain hardy scepticism, was able utterly to put this fifth guest’s shrill metallic urgency out of mind. To a certain temperament the situation might have seemed intriguing—my own instinct was to telephone immediately for the police.
The horses, needless to say, were not mentioned again. Tom and Miss Baker, with several feet of twilight between them, strolled back into the library, as if to a vigil beside a perfectly tangible body, while, trying to look pleasantly interested and a little deaf, I followed Daisy around a chain of connecting verandas to the porch in front. In its deep gloom we sat down side by side on a wicker settee.
Daisy took her face in her hands as if feeling its lovely shape, and her eyes moved gradually out into the velvet dusk. I saw that turbulent emotions possessed her, so I asked what I thought would be some sedative questions about her little girl.
“We don’t know each other very well, Nick,” she said suddenly. “Even if we are cousins. You didn’t come to my wedding.”
“I wasn’t back from the war.”
“That’s true.” She hesitated. “Well, I’ve had a very bad time, Nick, and I’m pretty cynical about everything.”
Evidently she had reason to be. I waited but she
------------------------
[Scroll: 6144 Tokens ]
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didn’t say any more, and after a moment I returned rather feebly to the subject of her daughter.
“I suppose she talks, and—eats, and everything.”
“Oh, yes.” She looked at me absently. “Listen, Nick; let me tell you what I said when she was born. Would you like to hear?”
“Very much.”
“It’ll show you how I’ve gotten to feel about—things. Well, she was less than an hour old and Tom was God knows where. I woke up out of the ether with an utterly abandoned feeling, and asked the nurse right away if it was a boy or a girl. She told me it was a girl, and so I turned my head away and wept. ‘All right,’ I said, ‘I’m glad it’s a girl. And I hope she’ll be a fool—that’s the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool.’
“You see I think everything’s terrible anyhow,” she went on in a convinced way. “Everybody thinks so—the most advanced people. And I know. I’ve been everywhere and seen everything and done everything.” Her eyes flashed around her in a defiant way, rather like Tom’s, and she laughed with thrilling scorn. “Sophisticated—God, I’m sophisticated!”
The instant her voice broke off, ceasing to compel my attention, my belief, I felt the basic insincerity of what she had said. It made me uneasy, as though the whole evening had been a trick of some sort to exact a contributory emotion from me. I waited, and sure enough, in a moment she looked at me with an absolute smirk on her lovely face, as if she had asserted her membership in a rather distinguished secret society to which she and Tom belonged.
Inside, the crimson room bloomed with light. Tom and Miss Baker sat at either end of the long couch and she read aloud to him from the Saturday Evening Post—the words, murmurous and uninflected, running together in a soothing tune. The lamplight, bright on his boots and dull on the autumn-leaf yellow of her hair, glinted along the paper as she turned a page with a flutter of slender muscles in her arms.
When we came in she held us silent for a moment with a lifted hand.
“To be continued,” she said, tossing the magazine on the table, “in our very next issue.”
Her body asserted itself with a restless movement of her knee, and she stood up.
“Ten o’clock,” she remarked, apparently finding the time on the ceiling. “Time for this good girl to go to bed.”
“Jordan’s going to play in the tournament tomorrow,” explained Daisy, “over at Westchester.”
“Oh—you’re Jordan Baker.”
I knew now why her face was familiar—its pleasing contemptuous expression had looked out at me from many rotogravure pictures of the sporting life at Asheville and Hot Springs and Palm Beach. I had heard some story of her too, a critical, unpleasant story, but what it was I had forgotten long ago.
“Good night,” she said softly. “Wake me at eight, won’t you.”
“If you’ll get up.”
“I will. Good night, Mr. Carraway. See you anon.”
“Of course you will,” confirmed Daisy. “In fact I think I’ll arrange a marriage. Come over often, Nick, and I’ll sort of—oh—fling you together. You know—lock you up accidentally in linen closets and push you out to sea in a boat, and all that sort of thing—”
“Good night,” called Miss Baker from the stairs. “I haven’t heard a word.”
“She’s a nice girl,” said Tom after a moment. “They oughtn’t to let her run around the country this way.”
“Who oughtn’t to?” inquired Daisy coldly.
“Her family.”
“Her family is one aunt about a thousand years old. Besides, Nick’s going to look after her, aren’t you, Nick? She’s going to spend lots of weekends out here this summer. I think the home influence will be very good for her.”
Daisy and Tom looked at each other for a moment in silence.
“Is she from New York?” I asked quickly.
“From Louisville. Our white girlhood was passed together there. Our beautiful white—”
“Did you give Nick a little heart to heart talk on the veranda?” demanded Tom suddenly.
“Did I?” She looked at me. “I can’t seem to remember, but I think we talked about the Nordic race. Yes, I’m sure we did. It sort of crept up on us and first thing you know—”
“Don’t believe everything you hear, Nick,” he advised me.
I said lightly that I had heard nothing at all, and a few minutes later I got up to go home. They came to the door with me and stood side by side in a cheerful square of light. As I started my motor Daisy peremptorily called: “Wait!”
“I forgot to ask you something, and it’s important. We heard you were engaged to a girl out West.”
“That’s right,” corroborated Tom kindly. “We heard that you were engaged.”
“It’s a libel. I’m too poor.”
“But we heard it,” insisted Daisy, surprising me by opening up again in a flower-like way. “We heard it from three people, so it must be true.”
Of course I knew what they were referring to, but I wasn’t even vaguely engaged. The fact that gossip had published the banns was one of the reasons I had come East. You can’t stop going with an old friend on account of rumours, and on the other hand I had no intention of being rumoured into marriage.
Their interest rather touched me and made them less remotely rich—nevertheless, I was confused and a little disgusted as I drove away. It seemed to me that the thing for Daisy to do was to rush out of the house, child in arms—but apparently there were no such intentions in her head. As for Tom, the fact that he “had some woman in New York” was really less surprising than that he had been depressed by a book. Something was making him nibble at the edge of stale ideas as if his sturdy physical egotism no longer nourished his peremptory heart.
Already it was deep summer on roadhouse roofs and in front of wayside garages, where new red petrol-pumps sat out in pools of light, and when I reached my estate at West Egg I ran the car under its shed and sat for a while on an abandoned grass roller in the yard. The wind had blown off, leaving a loud, bright night, with wings beating in the trees and a persistent organ sound as the full bellows of the earth blew the frogs full of life. The silhouette of a moving cat wavered across the moonlight, and, turning my head to watch it, I saw that I was not alone—fifty feet away a figure had emerged from the shadow of my neighbour’s mansion and was standing with his hands in his pockets regarding the silver pepper of the stars. Something in his leisurely movements and the secure position of his feet upon the lawn suggested that it was Mr. Gatsby himself, come out to determine what share was his of our local heavens.
I decided to call to him. Miss Baker had mentioned him at dinner, and that would do for an introduction. But I didn’t call to him, for he gave a sudden intimation that he was content to be alone—he stretched out his arms toward the dark water in a curious way, and, far as I was from him, I could have sworn he was trembling. Involuntarily I glanced seaward—and distinguished nothing except a single green light, minute and far away, that might have been the end of a dock. When I looked once more for Gatsby he had vanished, and I was alone again in the unquiet darkness.
II
About halfway between West Egg and New York the motor road hastily joins the railroad and runs beside it for a quarter of a mile, so as to shrink away from a certain desolate area of land. This is a valley of ashes—a fantastic farm where ashes grow like wheat into ridges and hills and grotesque gardens; where ashes take the forms of houses and chimneys and rising smoke and, finally, with a transcendent effort, of ash-grey men, who move dimly and already crumbling through the powdery air. Occasionally a line of grey cars crawls along an invisible track, gives out a ghastly creak, and comes to rest, and immediately the ash-grey men swarm up with leaden spades and stir up an impenetrable cloud, which screens their obscure operations from your sight.
But above the grey land and the spasms of bleak dust which drift endlessly over it, you perceive, after a moment, the eyes of Doctor T. J. Eckleburg. The eyes of Doctor T. J. Eckleburg are blue and gigantic—their retinas are one yard high. They look out of no face, but, instead, from a pair of enormous yellow spectacles which pass over a nonexistent nose. Evidently some wild wag of an oculist set them there to
------------------------
[Opus: 8192 Tokens ]
------------------------

Hi all,
I’ve been a broker for over 5 years, so fire at me. Not trying to self-promote.
As a long-time lurker, there've been many instances where I feel like I could've stepped in to help with queries, but didn’t.
Wanted to start this thread with every intention of getting back to everyone, so please feel free to ask me anything.
However, please don't ask me questions that I could not possibly know the answer to, like "What's the best home loan for me?" The best home loan for you depends on your scenario and what you're trying to acheive. Without fully understanding the position you're in, I can't possibly make a recommendation. If you're looking for the answer to this, you'd have to message me and I'd have to get some info from you to help.
I will only provide general information on this thread. For personal recommendations, you should seek your own independent or professional advice.
Planning to answer questions on this thread over the next couple of weeks.
- Chris

Dear indianhiphopheads,
Today, we want to discuss an urgent matter that affects both the moderators and users. As you can see from the title, this post is not related to what you would normally see on this subreddit. As the moderation team of indianhiphopheads, we have concerns about recent changes to Reddit, that harm our ability to moderate this subreddit, along with the ability of multiple members of the community from browsing Reddit at all.

What's going on?

A recent Reddit policy change threatens to kill many beloved third-party mobile apps, making a great many quality-of-life features not seen in the official mobile app permanently inaccessible to users.
On May 31, 2023, Reddit announced they were raising the price to make calls to their API from being free to a level of exorbitant charges that will kill every third party app on Reddit, from Apollo to Reddit is Fun to Narwhal to BaconReader.
Even if you're not a mobile user and don't use any of those apps, this is a step toward killing other ways of customizing Reddit, such as the use of the old.reddit.com desktop interface .
This isn't only a problem on the user level: many subreddit moderators depend on tools only available outside the official app to keep their communities on-topic and spam-free.

What would this mean? Why should this matter to you?

• Many mods on Reddit use 3rd party apps to moderate because the tools on Reddit’s app are worthless. Most of us mods have day jobs and a lot of moderation happens during our lunch breaks or downtime in our real lives. We moderate because we care about the community. When the changes to the API kicks in, moderation across the board will not only become more difficult, but it will result in lower consistency, longer wait times on post approvals and reports, and much more spam/bot activity getting through the cracks. It will also take longer for a response in modmail and harmful toxic users will be more prominent and will remain rampant longer. In discussions with mods on many subreddits, many longtime moderators will simply leave the site. While it’s tradition for redditors to dunk on moderators, the truth is that they do an insane amount of work for free, and the entire site would drastically decrease in quality and usability without them.
  
• The NSFW API will be getting shut down so the only way to access NSFW content is through Reddit’s app. This means even if 3rd party apps do foot the bill They only get 40% of the content. This also means that bots and moderation practices that prevent, for example someone that comments on gonewild post from commenting on teenagers selfie posts will break. This would endanger communities of underage users that were previously protected from predatory users. In more major cases, it will be extremely hard to keep child sexual abuse content and non-consensual intimate media off the platform with their mod tools practices crippled by the NSFW change. A lot of work has been put into this including parts of the NSFW community paying enterprise prices or access to private libraries that are meant to detect this kind of media.
  
• The Official Reddit App is also not compatible with accessibility for blind people, which third-party apps do. Thus, if third-party apps are gone, blind people will not be able to use Reddit on the Official App. The Blind community moderation team is left in jeopardy.
  

What's the plan?

On June 12th, hundreds of subreddits (at least 190 of them having 1 million+ users) will be going dark to protest this policy. Some will return after 48 hours: others will go away permanently unless the issue is adequately addressed, since many moderators aren't able to put in the work they do with the poor tools available through the official app. This isn't something any of us do lightly: we do what we do because we love Reddit, and we truly believe this change will make it impossible to keep doing what we love.
In solidarity with other subreddits, indianhiphopheads will be going private on June 12th at 5:30 AM IST (12 AM UTC). The two-day blackout isn't the goal, and it isn't the end. Should things reach the 14th with no sign of Reddit choosing to fix what they've broken, we'll use the community and buzz we've built between then and now as a tool for further action. Mod discussion is underway regarding whether we should extend the blackout beyond 48 hours by continuing to stay private or being restricted (only old posts and comments would be visible). We would like to extend this discussion to the users and want your views regarding the same.
We understand that this blackout may cause temporary inconvenience to our community, and for that, we apologize. However, we firmly believe that this short-term disruption will bring long-term benefits for every user. By standing together with other subreddit communities, we hope to send a clear message to Reddit and foster a meaningful conversation about the future of their API policies. ​ In the meantime, we encourage you to let reddit know that you disagree with their planned changes.

What can you do?

1. Complain. [Email](mailto:[email protected]) Reddit. Message the mods of /reddit.com, who are the admins of the site: message reddit: submit a support request: comment in relevant threads on /reddit, such as this one, leave a negative review on their official iOS or Android app- and sign your username in support to this post.
   
2. Sign. You can sign the Open Letter here to make your voice heard. You do not need to be a moderator to sign it.
   
3. Spread the word. Rabble-rouse on related subreddits. Meme it up, make it spicy. Bitch about it to your cat. Suggest anyone you know who moderates a subreddit join us at our sister sub at /ModCoord.
   
4. Boycott and spread the word...to Reddit's competition! Stay off Reddit entirely on June 12th through the 14th- instead, take to your favorite non-Reddit platform of choice and make some noise in support!
   
5. Don't be a jerk. As upsetting this may be, threats, profanity and vandalism will be worse than useless in getting people on our side. Please make every effort to be as restrained, polite, reasonable and law-abiding as possible. This includes not harassing moderators of subreddits who have chosen not to take part.
   

We appreciate your understanding, support, and active participation in this important endeavor. It is through the strength and dedication of our community that we can strive for a better Reddit experience for everyone involved.
Thank you,
The mod team of IndianHipHopHeads

Hey /atheism, long time lurker, first time poster. I just had a really interesting conversation with my devoutly religious grandmother that I wanted to share with all of you.
My grandmother is a very pious woman, raised in a small town in Kansas, and has been a devoted Christian for her entire life. While I've been an atheist for the past few years, we've managed to avoid any major confrontations about religion. Today, however, the topic inevitably came up.
We were sitting on her porch, having a casual talk about life, and the conversation subtly steered towards religion. She asked me why I didn't believe in God. I initially thought about deflecting, but something told me to answer honestly. I told her I simply didn't see any empirical evidence for God, and that I believed in science, reason, and the observable universe.
After my response, she took a moment and looked at me with a soft smile on her face. She said, "You know, I've always taught you to stand up for what you believe in. I may not fully understand your beliefs, but I respect your right to have them."
At that moment, something clicked in my mind. We often paint religious people as intolerant, close-minded individuals - and many are - but it's crucial to remember that a lot of them are just trying to make sense of this complicated world, like we are. They can be compassionate and open to accepting views that directly contradict their own. I'm not trying to defend religion here; I'm trying to defend humanity and its capacity for understanding and empathy.
I guess the reason I'm sharing this is to remind everyone that it's possible to have open and respectful dialogues with religious people without either party resorting to aggression or ridicule. We all have the right to our own beliefs, but we also have a responsibility to treat each other with respect and kindness.
Remember, we're not fighting a war against religious people. We're promoting rationality, skepticism, and a more secular society. That's a cause that requires patience, understanding, and, most importantly, empathy. It was an eye-opening realization, and I felt it was worth sharing.
TL;DR - Had a peaceful discussion about atheism with my religious grandmother. She didn't get angry or upset, but instead expressed her respect for my right to have my beliefs. It reminded me that it's possible to coexist and have respectful discussions without resorting to ridicule or aggression.

21 female, asexual/lesbian. I am a single child from an East Asian background, with a domineering mother (XSTJ) and an open-minded (sometimes carefree) father (INTP).
The whole family is not religious but has ancestor-worshipping traditions. The schools and neighborhoods that I lived in were officially non-religious. Although I am the most atheist one in my family, I am very interested in those religious writings – about the genesis mythologies and the establishment of laws and rituals, yet it is difficult for me to relate to those who genuinely believe in a personified God/supernatural beings (I am also curious about mysticism and alchemist theories, yet sometimes they appear a superficial formalism to me).
I was exposed to an extensive library at an early age: most of them were about natural science and classic literature (for example, Dickens and Hugo); others are animal novels and fantasies, I remember the first long novel series I finished is Harry Potter when I was 5. I also watched a lot of documentaries, especially those on the animal world.
Straight-A student in my childhood – a bit of a perfectionist on the outcomes. I always finished the homework as soon as possible, even multitasking in class. Overall I got along well with my classmates for I often offered the answers if they asked to copy them (sometimes I got annoyed but kept the feeling in my heart). The rest of the time I read extensively and was taken by my mom to extracurricular courses (musical instruments). I was often seized by a sense of alienation: though I understood those trendy, trivial gossip flowing around, and games popular among girls like “play as family members”... I found myself always detached from the game – yet not feeling depressed/hurt/the urge to participate in. I was rather confused.
Another important incident in my childhood is witnessing the corpse of my grandmother who died from a heart attack. We used to be close but I did not feel sad or shed any tears. I was shocked by others’ reactions (crying, mourning, and so on), and was even horrified (in the deepest of my heart) when the adults act emotionally unstable that I SHALL be sad at that moment but I DIDN’T, and I was very sorry for my grandmother (for I found this chaos laughable). The whole experience was in a magical-realistic, Meursault style – I consider it not privacy but I’m pretty sure it would be accused by the public as soon as my family knows it, which caused something possibly an identity crisis.
In high school, I became more and more addicted to books about psychology and philosophy. I worked pretty well in Literature, English, History, Biology, and Geography. Played in the school football team as a defender (good at long-distance races but suck at sprinting). Developed long-term friendships with several girls. Lots of people, including my teachers, considered me not easily approachable and being rebellious even for the most of time I was peaceful with the rules – in other words, I only follow rules that I think are logical and efficient). In high school when first encountered in MBTI I got an INXJ.
I am a lot more easygoing after entering college, majoring in Humanities. I will be a super ambitious workaholic and perfectionist in the courses/topics that I am truly fascinated about while tolerating other courses not in accordance with my interests. I care about originality a lot and often do interdisciplinary research. Talkative, analytical, and insightful when the conversation is restricted to 5 people, but fell silent in huge lecture classes due to the lack of interaction between the professors and the students. I started to write poetry, ended up being appreciated by others – and I’ve made a lot of friends. Act as a neutral advice-offerer and brainstorming helper. Hope to be a professor after graduation with PhD, or in other positions that require creativity, productivity, and connection with people. I value a lifelong studying project in that every field is interconnected and intriguing.
I am polite and kind to others, but lose my patience when encountering efficiency and boredom. I am barely upset or anxious. I daydream and talk to myself almost every day about philosophical thoughts and metaphors. I have a bad memory (or it’s difficult for me to name something (emotions). I got easily distracted by new thoughts when compensating, so multitasking is a necessity (to eliminate boredom). I appreciate punctuality and will definitely doorslam those who ghost me. I can start conversations on any topic (it takes time for me to find the proper time to start the conversation) and get really sharp and deep while connecting with other images. I will not investigate more in a conversation if I provide much more outcomes and get received barely from others. I can keep in contact with people that I hate while acting happily with them, just to see their jokes, but when I got really pissed off I will let them know. I can help when people ask for life suggestions while being neutral and straightforward, but will probably be stressed when things get more complicated and they demand constant emotional support / being lazy to change. Sometimes I will ruin the atmosphere if there happens to have dishonesty / inequality / hypocrisy existing, or if there is one super-addicted in their tunnel vision / strong likes and dislikes who denies others’ perspectives. I am skeptical and never loyal to one set of values/thoughts, or be a crazy fan of a specific person, so – no marriages, and I will probably not have children (physically unbearable). I deliberately assault misoneism in dark humor. Highly sarcastic when being with close friends.
Thank you in advance for suggestions.

Have a few items i'm trying to clear out all in great condition, noted if games are loose or CIB. Open to Offers on bigger bundles for some discounts.
Shipping starts at $5.00 with Free Shipping on Bundles over $75 with Pics upon request.

PS4

Odin Sphere Leifthrasir Storybook Edition SEALED $140
Metro Redux CIB $15
Rise of the Tomb Raider 20th Anniversary Extras Only No Game $10
COD : Infinite Warfare Legacy Edition CIB $10
Plants vs Zombies 2 : Garden Warfare $10
Has Been Heroes CIB $10
The Division $5
Deus Ex MD $10

XBox One

One Lords of the Fallen $10
Phantom Black Controller CIB USED $30 (Controller is 7/10 cosmetic wise with bottom back bumpers having heavy scuffs & 9/10 overall function wise)

PS Vita

Toukiden: Kiwami $35
The Walking Dead: Season 2 $30
Hot Shots Golf World Invitational $30
Legend Of Heroes: Trails Of Cold Steel 1 $60
Dynasty Warriors Next $25
Stranger Of Sword City $30
Earth Defense Force 2: Invaders From Planet Space $30
Ragnarok Odyssey Ace $45
Shantae Half-Genie Hero [Risky Beats Edition] $60
UnEpic SEALED $130
Risk Of Rain SEALED $45
Aqua Kitty SEALED $60
Grand Kingdom Case $10
Toukiden : Kiwami Case $15
Reverie $40
Sir Eatsalot $50

3DS

Legend Of Legacy Launch Edition SEALED $65
Crush 3D Loose in 3DS Case $10
Cubic Ninja Loose in 3DS Case $10
Codename S.T.E.A.M $5
Warioware D.I.Y Loose in 3DS Case $30
Smash Bros 3DS CIB $17
Steel Diver CIB $8
Rodea the Sky Soldier Launch Edition CIB $30
OEM Charging Base for original 3DS $20

PS1

Fighter Maker Loose $10
FF Tactics GH CIB $30
FF9 CIB (Case damaged) $15
Crash Bandicoot 2 Loose in Twisted Metal GH Case $15
Sim City 2000 Game+Case (damaged) $10
Oddworld Abes Oddysee CIB $20

DS

Intec DS Case $10
Score 6x Game Cartridge Case $10
Bleach Blade Of Fate Loose $15
Advance Wars 2 Days of Ruin Loose $30

N64

N64 Console with hookups and 1x OEM Grey Controller (Controller is in good condition 8/10 and analog stick is 8/10, console was painted with black acrylic spray paint from previous owner and cartridge slot has been modded to play Japanese N64 carts so doesn't include the slot flaps) $70 shipped - https://imgur.com/a/d83hiHu
007 GoldenEye Loose $35
Beetle Adventure Racing Loose $20
Snowboard Kids 1 Loose $50
007 The World is Not Enough $20
Quake 2 $20
Rush 2049 (damaged label) $40
Armorines Project SWARM $15
Pokemon Puzzle League $30
WCW vs NWO Revenge $15

PS3 $6 Each unless Noted

Final Fantasy X/X2 Remaster Limited Edition CIB $15
NiNoKuni 1 Steelbook CIB $30
Tales Of Symphonia Chronicles CIB $20
Zone Of The Enders HD Collection CIB $15
Yakuza 3 Loose $15
Metal Gear Solid HD Collection Loose $15
Genji Days Of The Blade $20
Genji Days Of The Blade Loose $10
South Park : The Stick of Truth SEALED $10
Need for Speed Most Wanted CIB $10
Infamous
Call of Duty : Modern Warfare 3
Call of Duty Ghost
Need for Speed Pro Street
Call of Duty Modern Warfare
Red Faction Guerilla x2
Battlefield 3
MoH Warfighter LE Loose
Darksiders
Darksiders 2
Crysis 2
Deus Ex HR
Call of Duty 2 Steelbook
Mercenaries 2 in Generic Case
Warhawk
Call of Duty MW3 x2
Assassins Creed 4 BF
Beyond Steelbook Bad shape broken at spine
Uncharted Dual Pack in Custom generic case

PS2 $6 Each Unless Noted

Gran Turismo 3 A-Spec $10
Soul Caliber 2 CIB $15
ATV Offroad Fury 4 $10
MDK 2 Armageddon Loose $10
Need For Speed Hot Pursuit 2 $10
The Getaway $10
Samurai Showdown Anthology $30
007 Agent Under Fire Loose $10
Test Drive GH $10
FIFA 2001 CIB $10
Star Wars The Force Unleashed CIB
Army Men Soldiers of Misfortune
Welcome to Jumpack Demo Disc
Metal Arms in Generic Case
MX vs ATX
Army Men
Rocky
NCAA Football 2004
Army Men : Sarges Hero
Full Spectrum Warrior
FIFA 2001 MLS
NCAA Football 2003
NCAA Football 2004
Eye Toy Antigrav with Eye Camera $20
Need for Speed Hot Pursuit 2
Wheel of Fortune
Motorcross Mania 3
Seaworld Deep Sea Adventures
Socom US Navy Seal
Red Faction Case $5
Final Fantasy X-2
ThrillVille
Call of Duty 2 The Big Red One in generic Case

Snes Games

Mortal Kombat 2 (label is damaged) $10

XB360 $7 Each unless Noted

Zone Of The Enders HD Collection Limited Edition SEALED $60
The Evil Within
BF3 Limited Edition
Kinect Adventures
Motionsports
Call of Duty Ghosts
3rd Party Controller $10
Darksiders 2
Marvel Ultimate Alliance in Gamestop Case $10
OEM Black Controller with Battery Pack $20

OG Xbox $7 Each unless Noted

Fable The Lost Chapters PH $15
TRON 2.0 Killer App $15
Testdrive
Call of Duty 2 $10
Need for Speed Underground $10
Midnight Club 3 Case with Burnout 3 Disc
Wreckless
Unreal Championship 1
Mace Griffon
Cabelas Deer Hunt 2005
Greg Hastings Tournament Paintball
Chase : Hollywood Stunt Driver
Star Wars : Obi-Wan CIB $10

Gamecube

GB Player OEM Case Holder *Missing outer cardboard and Manual $25
NFL2k3 CIB $8
Monopoly Party+Manual in Blockbuster Case $10
Star Wars Rogue Leader+Manual in DVD Case $15
Spiderman 2 Player's Choice (Missing Manual) $15
Megaman Anniversary Collection (Missing Manual) $20
MC Groovez Dance Craze$10
Fifa Soccer 2002 $10
Spiderman 1 Case $5
007 NightFire Case with Fantastic Four Games $5

Switch

TechKen Switch Pro Wireless Controller Purple $20
Ys VIII Lacrimosa Of DANA (PAL Version) CIB $40

Wii

Nights Journey of Dreams in Gamestop Case & Manual $10
Generic Dual Wiimote Charging Dock $10

Covers, Cases and Manuals

8x Universal Game Cases (N64,SNES,Genesis,etc) $8 Each
3DS Persona Q : Shadow of the Labyrinth Case $15
Wii Dragon Quest Swords Manual $7
Wii Monster Hunter 3 Manual $5
Wii Elebits Manual $5
GC Ghost Recon Case & Manual $7
GC True Crime Streets of LA Case & Manual $10
GC Spiderman 1 Case Only $7
GC Dead to Rights Case & Manual $10
GC Splinter Cell Pandora Tomorrow Case & Manual $10
GC Hitman 2 Case & Manual $10
GC MoH Frontline Case & Manual $7
GC Rainbow Six 3 Case & Manual $7
PS2 Call of Duty FH Case & Manual $7
GC NFL 2K3 Case $5
GC Turok Evolution Case & Manual $5
PS4 Nioh Case $5
PS Vita Exist Archive Case $5
PS3 Zone of Enders HD Collection Case & Manual $10
PS2 Dragon Quest 8 Case & Manual $10
PS2 Onimusha 2 Case & Manual $10
PS2 Tekken 5 Case & Manual $10
PS2 Kingdom Hearts 1 GH Case & Manual $10
PS2 Kingdom Hearts 2 GH Case & Manual $10
PS2 Area 51 Case PAL version $5
GC NBA 2K2 Case & Manual $10
PS2 Final Fantasy X-2 Case $ Manual $10
PS2 Starwars Battlefront Case & Manual $10
GC Prince of Persia Cover & Manual $10
GC Viewtiful Joe 1 Manual $20
PS2 Katamari Damacy Cover & Manual $10
GC Burnout 3 Takedown $5
PS2 Nightmare before Christmas Oogies Revenge Cover & Manual $15
PS2 GTA San Andreas Cover & Manual $10
PS2 Capcom Classic Collection Cover & Manual $15
PS2 Virtua Fighter 4 Evolution Manual $5
PS2 Megaman X Collection Cover & Manual $15
PS2 Star Ocean Till the End of Time Cover & Manual $10
PS2 R-Type Final Cover & Manual $15
PS2 Soul Caliber 2 Cover $7
XB Panzer Dragoon Orta Cover & Manual $30
XB Ninja Gaiden Black Cover & Manual $10
PS2 Mad Maestro Cover & Manual $10
PS2 007 Everything or Nothing Manual $5
PS2 Half Life 2 Cover $10
PS2 Devil May Cry 3 Cover & Manual $10
PS2 FF X-2 Cover & Manual $10
PS2 REZ Cover & Manual $15
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This happens to me a lot lately and I think I'm just unlucky, because my friends and I do have a lot in common. But it makes me feel left out, which is a sucky feeling, and I don't know if I'm too sensitive or if there's something I should be doing to change the situation.
Two quick examples:

1. Two of my friends are from similar areas of England, and sometimes while we're on voice call together they'll just talk about that area and stores it used to have, and regional traditions etc. They get really excited talking about it, and I try to ask questions but when they answer they're just referencing the other person again and it goes back to them having a 1:1.
   
2. A different set of friends like a show I don't know about, and all I could think to say was "oh, [friend X] says good things about that!". And one of the people on call said that another person (who was about to join the call) loves that show and loves talking about it, so I joked "okay, I'm gonna check it out, nobody mention it when she comes in and I'll WOW her next week". When she joined, everyone immediately talked about the show, and just said quotes from it for ten minutes. This was a video call, with five of them, and I just sat there awkwardly.
   

I'm 28F and all my friends are also in their late twenties.

I own a digital marketing agency and i have a couple of friends helping me with the tasks, just 3 talented young people trying to make some magic happen.
Now the thing is we kind of are getting more clients than we can handle and need a pair of hands to help, especially with running ad campaigns for social media.
I still can't decide if i have to do the traditional way, hire an employee (digital marketer) and have them handle all that stuff but i doubt they will be getting my vlients any results zs we all know most people who work a 9-5 hate their jobs and they don't do it with heart,
There's also the option of hiring freelancers to do it from fiverupwork.
The thing is, you can find really good talent on freelancing platforms but it's pretty expensive and i do it sometimes when i need a one time job to be done... so i can't afford it for the long term.
I have no problem at all working with somebody fully remotely on a commission based system. You know 2-4h a day is all it would take anyway
What would you recommend i do? I need a pair of hands to be good at social media marketing, deliver results, paid by commission.

EDIT: The first comment in response to this answered my question. My bf has a lot of Sims who are non white, therefore the foster children have traits from those sims. Because he has mods with more diverse hairstyles, he wanted to include Sims of different races who can really show those pretty styles off. So it seemed really targeted at first but if it's based.on already existing sims, it makes much more sense now.
I don't wanna assume anything specific about the mod creator, right? I don't wanna point fingers bc maybe it's a coincidence
My boyfriend has been playing the Sims 4 with the Foster Family Mod. He has fostered like 13 or more children now and every single one except for one kid was a person of color. One of them was East Asian, most of them are black or mixed, one of them looked like they could be Hispanic. He has found only one white child out of 13 in this whole Sims foster care system. And it's really weird considering that sims characters are usually very randomized.
So now I'm wondering if anyone else has noticed this in their games or if it's just how things ended up in his game specifically.
There's not anything I can do about it and I'm not gonna go harass the creator about it. It just seemed odd and I wanted to know if it's a normal occurrence for this mod.

Description: With phone monitoring, you can check the activities of your spouse. You can save yourself from being cheated by your spouse.
Maintaining a healthy relationship with a spouse is something that we all deserve in our life. However, life is not fair for everyone. A large number of people get into relationship trouble due to many reasons. According to studies, most people suffer from relationship issues when a third person enters the lives of couples.
If you suspect that your spouse is having an extramarital affair, you need to be worried. To save the relationship, you need to get your spouse back on the right track. To monitor the activities of your spouse, you can use phone monitoring applications.
​
What Is Phone Monitoring?
The phone monitor is tracking the activities of someone through an application installed on the device of the target person. If you are tracking someone, you want the person to stay safe. For tracking the activities of teenagers and elderly persons, such applications have been widely used.
The same application can be used by those who suspect that their spouses are cheating on them. Though you trust your spouse, he or she may cheat you at times. To get them caught red-handed, you can use the phone tracking application. There are a lot of phone tracking applications present in both Android and iOS stores. You can download them anytime, and some of them come with small pricing.
Signs of Your Spouse Cheating on You
Some prominent signs tell that your wife or husband is cheating on you. Human psychology is an interesting thing. If you can read the minds of human beings, you shall know various truths. So, how do you know that your spouse is cheating on you? Is there any prominent sign of spouse cheating on you? You can find the answers to these questions in the following section.
1. Spouse Comes Late at Home
Everyone is busy, though all of us want to get back home as early as possible from our workplace. Yes, occasional delays may happen. Due to certain work pressure, your spouse may return home late for a few days. After that, things will get normal again. But, you have reasons to worry when things do not seem to get normal easily. Your spouse is persistently late to reach home from his or her workplace for the past few months.
Of course, he or she would say that there were a lot of tasks to do at the office. But, the reality could be different. To find the truth, you can use the tracking application. With the use of a phone monitoring app, you can track the GPS location of the target phone. As a result, you would be able to monitor the activities of your spouse after the working hour’s end.
2. Your Spouse Stays Busy in Phone
In today’s world, everyone is busy with the phone. So, it is not an unusual thing. When your spouse spends time on the phone and social media, there is nothing to be worried about. But, when activities on the phone are higher than normal, there is a reason to worry. It may happen occasionally, but it cannot happen regularly. When there is a frequent encounter of this situation, you should be worried about the extramarital relationship of your spouse.
There is something fishy, and to unveil the mystery you need Cheating Partner Monitoring application. With cell phone tracking apps, you can snoop into the social media accounts, WhatsApp, Google chat, etc. From these things, you can surely judge whether your spouse is having an extramarital affair or not.
3. Hardly Talks to You
Your spouse used to be talkative with you. He used to spend time with your and kids. If you do not have kids, you may find that your spouse used to spend time with pets. But, things can change drastically, when a third person enters the scene. If your spouse hardly talks to you these days, it is a sign to worry. He could be busy with a few things.
But, it cannot happen persistently. There must be a presence of the third person in between you and your spouse. To decode the mystery, you can use the phone monitoringapplication. It will help you to track the activities of your spouse. With GPS tracking, you can check the locations of your husband for a day. You can check social media accounts of your spouse too.
4. No Time for Planning a Vacation
Everyone loves a vacation, and you along with your spouse may love to go for a long vacation. Tell this idea to your spouse, if you have not gone on a vacation for a long time. Generally, people would take the idea. If your husband does not take the idea, it is a reason to be worried. If he has some works, he would say you to plan the vacation next year. But, if he seems disinterested in vacation, you should check the activities of your husband. There could be the presence of a third person. This is why your husband does not want to go for a vacation.
5. A Regular Fight or Spat with Spouse
Having a small fight or spat is a common thing in every relationship. Everyone faces such issues due to many reasons. Sometimes, differences in opinions are not respected. As a result, a deep quarrel between husband and wife happens. This is just a normal thing, and there is nothing unhealthy if you fight too often with your spouse. There is something to worry about when spats or fights have become suddenly common in recent times.
It shows that your spouse is not enjoying your company. Moreover, after the fights, your spouse tends to go outside for a long time. If these things are happening to you, there is enough reason to suspect an extramarital affair of your spouse. So, what is the solution in such a case? The solution is to use a phone tracking app to know the truth.
With phone tracking applications, you can easily judge or understand the activities of your spouse. Just hire a hacker online and save your relationship before grave damage beyond repair may occur.
Contact Allhackgecko.com

June 6, 2023
Rise Up John Wesley Dobbs, Florida inmate no. C00618
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d5lPencsa54
The world-famous political prisoner King U combats Florida's hidden Antebellum policies Now representing John Dobbs attorney Mr. Reres Sr. Update: By Mrs. Celeste Dobbs
THIS IS WHY THEY DON'T WANT ME IN A COURT ROOM
The world-famous political prisoner King U combats Florida's hidden Antebellum policies John W. Dobbs, Florida inmate no. C00618 aka Universal aka King U I'm a political prisoner based on 4the fact that my imprisonment is not by legal construction. But instead based on the preferences of people who have obtained social and public support by trickery. And this support has the effect of placing them with the full might of the U.S. Government enforcing their favors and my illegal detainment. An unconstitutional union of Florida officials are secretly exercising Antebellum practices and are using intimidation amongst their peers to exercise their wills. King U John W. Dobbs John W. Dobbs Florida DC# C00618 9th Judicial Circuit Court of Orange County case# 48-2006-CF-015201-O The listing of events is compiled from several of John. Dobbs’ prior efforts to get justice. The uncontested facts hold that: Petitioner and his then girlfriend Deann Washington were visiting the State of Florida, when they stopped at a topless bar called Thee Doll House. Inside the club the couple met William Troy IIII and briefly engaged in a not at all hostile, but not quite polite conversation.
At closing time, the couple left the club and sew Troy with 3 or 4 other men, they were intoxicated. Petitioner’s vehicle and the vehicle transporting Troy’s party was parked six parking spaces apart. One or more from Troy’s party yelled to the couple something to the effect of they needed security to walk them out. Initially the statement appears lighthearted. John is entering his car when Troy’s friend and employee Andre Blanco starts to approach the passenger side of the couple’s vehicle. John’s girlfriend being the passenger, points out that one of them is walking over. John asks her to stay in the car, leaves the driver side, and walks around the back of the car to meet him. When Andre Blanco arrives, a fight initiated between them which all parties and witnesses perceive as a fist fight. The fight takes place close to the rear passenger side of John’s vehicle. Almost instantly. Andre Blanco is Knocked down and Francisco Gotay approaches John evades the punches and strikes Francisco Gotay with what all parties and witnesses perceive as fists. After being knocked down Andre Blanco swiftly recovers and attacks Petitioner from behind. John’s girlfriend exits the vehicle and enters the fight to help John, as Anthony Riollano and William Troy IIII approach. The couple hears someone yell ‘get her ‘ or get the girl.’ It’s around this time that one of them appears to get seriously injured and John concedes to starting to use his pocketknife, as Deanna Washington is grabbed by Anthony Riollano and tossed to the side ending her feeble attempts to ward them off. Next Riollano goes after John approaching John from behind, while he was confronted by at least one other of Riollano’s party, grabs John from the side by his shirt collar and strikes him on the head and neck several times. As members of his party feel they are unable to continue, Riollano, not knowing why the fight has stopped, but recognizing that it has, stops hitting John. Both Blanco and Gotay notice they are bleeding and don’t know why.
John gets up and the couple get in their car, and William Troy falls to the ground due to stab wounds. Andre Blanco and Francisco then realize they were stabbed. As the couple leaves the parking lot a truck, they believe to be occupied by one of their assailants try to run them off the road. Hanzel Holiday a valet from the club across the street, was not a witness to the incident, yet claim to have struck John’s vehicle twice in order to run the couple off the road, because his supervisor, Phillip Allen Westfall, the valet for Thee Doll House told him to stop their car. On third attempt Holiday notices John with a gun pointed in the direction of his attack, so he stops pursuit. William Troy died as a result of his stab wounds. John received multiple injuries six cuts. While John claims to have seen one of them swinging something shiny, which he perceived as a knife, and security for the club, Justin Idle, claims to have seen one of the men hitting John with what he believes may have been a key. All witnesses deny seeing John with a knife during the altercation. John, the only African American male in the fight, was also the only man arrested, and accused of a criminal act. Blanco, Gotay and Holiday each have multiple felony convictions, Troy had been convicted of battery on a law enforcement officer: and on the night of the incident Blanco was on probation. John who himself had one prior felony conviction, alerted the arresting office of his self-defense claim. Sign his petition on amku.org
Thank You

 Frequently Asked Questions 

If Florida ‘ Stand Your Ground Law ‘ is equally available to citizens under Florida jurisdiction some of the questions that arrive basic on the evidence are:
1.) Why was he the only man arrested for a fight that all witness sworn stated as a fist fight between him and a least 4 intoxicated men who relentlessly approached him?
2.) Does race have anything to do with it?
3.) Does he have the right to protect his girlfriend for what can be reasonably preceded as acts of aggression?
4.) How is it possible to find he didn’t act in defense of himself and his lady, when no reasonable evidence existed that the men who approached them might no harm?
5.) If the statement (you need security to walk you and your girl out) can be perceived as a threat how is it not evidence of his innocent?
6.) Why wasn’t Andre Blanco arrested for violating; for his part in the altercation being that he was dunk and on probation in a state were mere police contact usually results in violation?
7.) Why did the prosecutor allow Andre Blanco to change sworn statements from proceeding to proceeding without explanation?
8.) If the only evidence of aggravated battery against Andre Blanco comes from actions, Andre Blanco testified there was no evidence of, until after Blanco ran up grab him by the back of the neck and started hitting him; How is that not self-defense?
9.) If the only evidence of Aggravated battery against Fransico Gotay comes from actions Gotay testified occurred only after Gotay ran at him swinging to hit him; How is that not self-defense?
10.) If the only evidence of aggravated assault against Hansel Holiday comes from actions Holiday testified occurred only after Holiday was attempting to strike his car and run him off the road for the thirty time; How is that not self- defense?
11.) If Andre Blanco testified that immediately after being hit with what seems like a really hard punch, Blanco gets up runs grabs him by the back of the neck and starts hitting him; and, Fransico Gotay testified that immediately after Blanco falls from being hit with a good punch, Gotay runs up and starts swinging at him. and, Riollano testified that at the time that Riollano approached him and started hitting him in the neck and head, he was still fighting at least one of Riollano’s friends. And, William Troy enter the fight sometime in between. How can they say the fights were one on one.
13.) Why were Fransico Gotay, Anthony Riollano, and Hanzel Holiday treated by the State Attorney’s Office as if their attacking the couple at the couple car was lawful when they claim to have no knowledge of why the fight started or who throw the first punch; Thus, no knowledge of whether they were in the right or wrong?
14.) How is it that he was convicted of murdering William Troy and his conviction is upheld when the only evidence is that William Troy was the 3 or 4 men to enter the fight against him, and his claim to have stab Troy in self-defense?
15.) Why was the jury led to believe that he had to try to avoid the danger before he had the right to stand his ground?
16.) Why wasn’t the State required to answer any of these questions on appeal?
17.) Why wasn’t he granted an Evidential Hearing basic on any of his claims in the Federal Court?
18.) If the police was called before anyone was believed to have been stabbed and Deputy Herbert Mercado testified at the Adversary Preliminary Hearing referring to him as the victim twice.
Doesn’t that mean that the recordings of the 911 calls that were destroyed were evidence of his actual innocents?
19.) Does this mean that Florida law enforcement knows that he is innocent?
20.) Does the wealth of William Troy’s and Anthony Riollano’s family's have anything to do with it.
21.) Is there a conspiracy to deny a innocent man his rights?
22.) If a white man fought off 4 or 5 drunk black men, who told him he needed security, and surrounded him and his girlfriend, outside his car in the parking lot of a strip club, at 2:00 in the morning; Wouldn’t he be a hero?
23.) Are Clerks of Court being paid to sabotage cases in Florida. a.) A Clark of the court filed the unsigned Charge Information. b.) On Direct Appeal they was no judge signature on the ‘Denial .‘ c.) It was a Clerk who allowed incorrect DOC number to remain on his docket for months despite the number of complaints. d.) It was a Clerk of Court that removed 15 pages of his ‘Argument' from his petition for Federal Habeas Corpus. e.) And now the Clerk of Court who denied his State Habeas Corpus without any reason again in the Direct Court of Appeal.
They didn’t put the initial provocation instruction in George Zimmerman jury instruction.

 Read proof of his innocents on his website 

americanmekinguniversal.org and/or amku.org read court transcripts, and subtitle; Must Read, John's story in his own words " American Me Law vs. Law Enforcement " and give him an emergency release. Too many Florida officials are manipulating the system solely for their own personal prejudices and then having justice denied to avoid lawsuits. A favor for a favor tradition, Regardless of constitutional propriety. Many have gotten more severe sentencing when facts are manipulated at trail. Some were just been plain railroad. This system within the system is so embedded that the Feds are scared to touch it, especially because of the financial ramifications. A federal investigation is sorely needed, men like my son who have been ignored and lack opportunities to received justice in Florida that only money can buy. Thank You

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