For myself, life over the past few years has seemingly gone from bad to worse - and before I go into the details -this isn’t a “pity-post” or a sympathy searching exercise, this is simply a warning, and hopefully a lesson to others who are entering the crypto scene.
My crypto journey began back in earnest at the start of that famed 2017 “bull run” – I had a little bit in savings and had done my due diligence – this really was the future, and it could potentially set me and my family up for life.
I bought in with every bit of money I had to spare. All told, it was about £6,500, and the price of Bitcoin sat at just under £9,000.
This was exciting. The price continued to increase and I religiously opened and closed the Coinbase website to see the price soar by the hundreds and into the thousands. Work took a backseat and I became consumed with the markets, red and green candles being the first and last things I saw in the day.
I wanted more. I became envious of those that had bought into cryptos years before. So I looked at alternate avenues to increase my Bitcoin holdings… this was going to be the making of me! Sadly it turned out to be quite the opposite.
Scams, Scams everywhere…
The first venture I looked into was a third party bitcoin mining platform which promised exponential growth. It sounded too good to be true (spoiler: it was). I used a credit card to buy more Bitcoin. First mistake. I maxed the card and sent around £6,000 in Bitcoin to a mining company known as Crypterra. The reviews were good, the discord was active, people were seeing payouts – it was all looking legitimate. But of course it wasn’t. Payouts dried up. The devs went silent and the site disappeared and re-appeared sporadically before going offline indefinitely. It was over and I had lost most of the £6,000 from my credit card.
Robots are the future?
The price of Bitcoin was still holding strong and I’d made small gains with my original investment which was still untouched. Perhaps I could increase by Bitcoin gains elsewhere and pay off the credit card I had maxed out.
Again, I looked into ways to bolster my Bitcoin reservesI looked into trading platforms, cryptocurrency bots in particular. How hard could it be? As long as the price of Bitcoin went up, it should balance out any losses as I learned the ropes. There were a few that caught my eye. And following what I thought was sage “youtuber” advice – I dove into the world of trading with bots – linking up a Binance account and setting up my automated systems to work their magic and trade whilst I was asleep/working/sitting on the toilet, you name it.
As you can imagine, these bots weren’t the holy grail they were promoted to be, and I was losing Bitcoin left, right and centre. I became more and more “experimental” with the strategies… doubling my stakes, tripling my stakes to recoup what I had lost. I didn’t see it as real money (despite paying with hard earned money to fund these accounts) – it was magic internet money, just ones and zeroes – so the reality of it didn’t hit home how much I was actually losing. Shock horror, I lost it all.
Taking it to the bookies…
I had effectively been gambling my money away, and in my increasingly agitated state I sought out other communities to try and regain my money. Sports-betting communities, gambling communities, Twitter “tipsters” and Facebook groups who had all the inside knowledge.
I was down over £12,000 from my savings and the £6,500 from the credit card combined. I decided to open another two credit cards. One to fund my betting account and the other for backup. I quickly went through the first card’s funds, but I was ‘still learning’, this was ‘Ok’ – next time I would get it right. The second card (third in total) was quickly exhausted, and I was now close to £20,000 in the hole from when I started, all within just a few months.
The hole grew ever darker
As I write this now I am actually afraid and embarrassed to share the total losses I have made over the past few years (it’s actually much worse than I could have ever imagined). I have no-one to blame but myself; the greed, stupidity and at times, pure arrogance have lead me down this path. A path which at the moment seems irreversible for me.
To see the price of Bitcoin now makes me feel physically sick – if only I had been patient. If only I hadn’t chased my losses, if only I hadn’t played with money that wasn’t mine - I wouldn’t be in this predicament. As the debt mounts ever higher and interest rates on credit cards are crippling me, it will be an incredibly long time before I have any financial stability again. It has made me mentally unwell and I’m still figuring out the next steps which I know include professional support and removing my head from the pile of sand in which I have buried it.
I sincerely hope that those who read this account of my situation don’t fall into the same trap. The world is once again hyped for crypto, and with it come the pitfalls and scams and false promises of financial freedom and becoming rich. Don’t try and cheat the system, don’t chase your losses and don’t use money that isn’t yours in the first place.
TLDR:
To put it succinctly, the above is a very short overview of the financial hole I have found myself due to greed, arrogance and stupidity over the past few years. Hopefully a warning to others. Don’t chase losses, don’t look for the next get rich scheme and don’t invest money that isn’t yours to start with. Basically, don’t ruin your life like me. If only I had just held.
EDIT:
A quick edit to say thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read the above and replied in the comments. I've had some very honest and insightful responses and some incredibly useful suggestions about how I can bring myself back from this dilemma. I'll be seeking professional help both for the gambling and the debt management and hopefully get myself on the right track for the sake of my own sanity and that of my family's.

I've gotten more than a few DMs so I just want to offer my thoughts in a larger setting. I apologize for wasting others time and space.
Background: MBA w/+20 years including stints in Investment Banking, Equity Research, VC and Corporate. ( = I know enough to be dangerous.)
Should I invest tomorrow?
I would invest with the understanding that you're playing a high risk/high reward game vs. the best on Wall Street (WS) who aren't accustomed to losing. (Hell, you put a 50% dent in one of the most high profile HFs on the Street.) Reddit/WSB (WSB) is beating WS at its own game and WS will not accept that. The reason that I would still buy shares is because I'm perfectly comfortable waiting out the shorts, who I believe didn't cover entirely based on some sketchy trading volumes and price action on Thursday known as ladder attacks, which is basically artificially lowering a security's price by selling it back and forth between two parties. (Note: the WSJ is reporting that Melvin closed their positions at a loss of 50% to the fund. Maybe they did, though I don’t trust Melvin or the WSJ. Regardless, I have no doubt that other HFs are salivating at the short opportunity given where GME shares are currently trading.)
The key is the somewhat unreliable short data which comes out next week. As I mentioned in a previous post, getting accurate short data is next to impossible. It makes polling data look flawless by way of comparison. It has gotten to the point that I don't believe anything I read because there is not only time lag but synthetic longs and ladder attacks all of which serve to obscure the data. No firm wants it positions known so there is a strong incentive to obscure/hide the data. Another reason why Melvin publicly releasing its positions is just highly unusual/odd.
I would also be aware that a lot of HFs are making bank off the GME volatility by selling options and taking long positions. Just look at thetagang. The group is making their entire investment decisions based solely on the option premium without any concern for the underlying narrative to the point where they're short GME puts at the 200 strike. (And they think WSB is full of retards!)
To use an analogy, I'm a lifelong Giants fan who put a $1,000 down on the Giants beating the Pats in the 2008 Superbowl. The Pats went undefeated all season and the Giants entered the playoffs as a wildcard. The bookie even told me when I placed the bet that I was just throwing away my money. I bet the money line, i.e., no points, and ending up winning $5,000. The bookie just smiled at me when I handed him my ticket. Sometimes you just gotta trust your gut and stay loyal to your instincts no matter what others think. It's what separates the men from the boys.
TLDR: It’s a cliché, but don’t invest in GME what you can’t afford to lose. At this point, you're going against some very powerful hedge funds, i.e., the Pats in 2008. That said, WSB already scored a very impressive victory and is retarded enough to not realize how good their competition really is (just like the Giants in the Super Bowl).
How will the media portray the narrative?
The media have already started spreading the narrative that WSB is going to cause a financial collapse rather than the true culprits, namely, the HFs which leveraged up 5x to short 120% of a company's shares outstanding setting the stage for an infinity squeeze, which is the financial equivalent of a nuclear chain reaction. I mention this because the greatest risk IMHO is government intervention to quell the markets when the HFs start unloading positions to meet margin calls and borrowing costs. Nobody will lose sleep over a few billionaires losing a few commas in their net worth but hitting 401Ks, pension funds, and endowments is a different story. The official narrative will involve large commercial banks which loaned Melvin and other HFs billions to leveraged up with. These banks are regulated by the SEC and FDIC because they hold commercial deposits. When the narrative shifts from Melvin and HFs to names you recognize, e.g., JPM, BofA, Citi, rest assured the game is almost up. My guess is we're in the seventh or eighth inning of this game before it's stopped.
When people ask me about WSB I first discuss the HFs who created the conditions and then secondly note that thankfully we're dealing with a relatively small company in GME with a market cap of $20bn (so far!) compared to a company in the S&P 500, which is the basis for index funds and portfolio construction. In short, WSB did everyone a favor by calling attention to such a disastrous scenario in as optimal circumstances as possible. We should be very thankful WSB alerted the public to a systematic flaw in the financial system before a much greater meltdown occurred.
TLDR: The media are the PR firms for Wall Street. They exist to promote a narrative and receive access and compensation in return. They have no interest in reporting how the retail investor is being swindled. In contrast WSB did everyone a favor by pointing out a very serious systematic flaw in as optimal fashion as possible. This is the truth and the message that needs to be heard.
What’s the next step?
FINRA releases short data next Tuesday, February 9th for the period ending this past Friday, January 29th. Roughly 700mn GME shares changed hands last week or 10x the total shares outstanding so I'm pretty sure the short interest (SI) has fallen below 100%. However, I expect it to still be well above 50% given the typical HF’s risk appetite by which I mean they expect the retail investors to run for the exits sending shares back to $20-ish levels. I would love to know the borrowing costs for these firms because it basically tells you how long they can wait before such costs negatively impact their returns. My guess is until March when they have to report 1Q results to investors.
TLDR: Short data will show a decrease in SI, which is not necessarily a bad thing but it’s important to note that the risk/reward profile of the trade has moved.
How much good did this GME trade really do besides transfer a lot of wealth?
A heck of alot. At a minimum, WSB drew well needed scrutiny to the role of option clearings firms such as Citadel* and Wolverine, i.e., the shadow economy, and their dual roles as market makers and hedge funds (players and referees). This screams conflict of interest. A revolution doesn’t happen overnight but this is another step forward in demonstrating how rigged the game is against the retail investor and guy in the (Main) street. Our regulatory agencies exist to enforce transparency and fairness. WSB has demonstrated that the derivatives market and particularly short selling lack both and have the capability to cause a financial panic. And of course, there is the unbelievable amount of charitable donations from WSB gains which prove who the real Robinhood is. (Sorry, couldn’t resist).

• Citadel alone handles more than 25% of US equity flow. The company is a monster and barely anyone knows it exists, which is how they like it. They tell Wall Street what the regulation is and they pay Washington to enforce it. Former Fed heads Bernanke and Yellen have received almost a million in combined comp for speeches and advisory services from Citadel. In short, Citadel makes Goldman look like the United Way. And oh, yeah, 40% of Robinhood's revenue comes from Citadel in return for order flow. Assume what you will.

TLDR: Sunlight is the best disinfectant – Justice Brandeis
*********************
For the questions below and messages:
As I tried to communicate in the write-up, I would characterize the trade as more risky than a week ago when the SI was above 100%. I have no doubt many shorts have since closed. That said, I suspect the SI is still well above 50% given where the stock is and typical HF risk appetite. This is not a trade for your parents or grandparents.* There is serious risk here that the share price collapses based on who the counterparties are and the lower SI. That said, I still like it and I'm in it. IMHO, it comes down to a game of chicken in the sense of who is willing to hold longer. HFs have investors to report to in 1Q vs. WSB who have bills, rent, and life to deal with. As my old coach would say, who wants it more.

• The market has returned ~11% per year for the past decade. A good HF aims for 2x that. You guys are banking +1,000% returns on a trade lasting approximately a month against the best HFs on the Street. These returns are not normal or even within several standard deviations. They are clearly not for the faint-of-heart. We are in unchartered waters here. No shame in heading back. The fact you've come this far is simply amazing. Even you wife's boyfriend would be proud of you.

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“Welcome, one and all, to the one-hundred-ninety-seventh annual Proving Grounds! As our queen’s Minister of Public Affairs, I am incredibly proud to present my sixth year organizing this prestigious event. This tournament goes back…”
Eve tuned the posh man out, turning left to ask Preston across the empty seat between them, “When’s the fighting start?”
The healer shrugged. “Whenever he’s done with his speech. Not sure why we need all the pomp for day one.”
Eve had to agree. From her vantage high up in the coliseum seating, the overwhelmingly empty bleachers spoke to the unimportance of the early rounds, at least as far as spectators were concerned.
There was a smattering of viewers, predominantly friends and family of the competitors, scattered about the stands, as well as a few higher level individuals that Eve assumed represented the less-successful mercenary groups, but she wouldn’t be impressing much of anyone that day. Hells, the Dragonwrought probably wouldn’t show up until the finals.
A few bookies wandered the sparse crowds, offering bets on the first fight of the day, but few accepted. They hadn’t even seen the fighters yet.
The long-winded speech continued, “As we wind up for the first bout, I’d like to again thank her holiness Archbishop Callandria for her pivotal role today and throughout the tournament.” A gray-haired woman in priestess robes of gold-lined white and a fancy hat stood and nodded. Eve didn’t need to Appraise her to know her class or that her level would only show as question marks.
The minister spoke on. “Without her Cheat Death, we couldn’t hope to present to you all the spectacle that has become so core to Pyrindel’s…”
Where’s Wes? Art’s sending drowned out the emcee’s prattling.
Preston patted the hatchling—who unlike Reginald could pass as vaguely human with a loose-fitting cloak and hood—on the head. “He’s down there.” The Caretaker pointed at one of the dark archways leading into the bowels of the coliseum. “He’ll come out when it’s his turn to fight.”
The buzz of chatter around the arena faded as the announcer finished his speech. “And without further ado, I’d like to welcome out our first competitors! From Pyrindel, a level fifty-six Geomancer, Peter Shind!”
Two people on the far side of the coliseum that Eve could only take to be the man’s parents broke out into cheers and applause while the aforementioned Geomancer stepped out onto the sand.
“From Barrowsted, a level fifty-two Sword Dancer, Priya Estellian!”
Eve had never heard of Barrowsted, and apparently neither had any of the other spectators, as not a single person cheered for the leather clad Sword Dancer. Even so, the stands became a flurry of activity as audience members clambered to place their bets before the fighting started. Unfortunately for Eve, none of the bookies were near enough for her to make her pick.
“Contestants! You may begin!”
Peter got a spell off before Priya could even take a step. With a wave of his hand, a dozen fist-sized stones broke away from the arena floor, rising to the air.
Priya dashed forward.
Peter fired. All at once the stone projectiles shot through the air, homing in on the changing swordswoman.
She sidestepped them all.
The Geomancer was ready though, and another barrage soon followed, each rock’s path curving differently to obscure their destination.
Priya drew her first sword. With a flash of enchanted steel and a cascade of sparks, she swung, knocking the stones away.
Eve watched wide-eyed as the shrapnel flew through the air, her mind not even computing its path until Preston leapt to his feet. In a display of reaction that put her to shame, the Caretaker threw up a barrier of golden light, his Ayla’s Ward ready to intercept the wayward projectile.
It never did.
The air before them shimmered and the stone crumbled as it struck an invisible barricade. Preston lowered his ward. He blushed. “Right,” he sheepishly muttered, “arena’s enchanted for that.”
Eve reached across Wes’s empty seat to patronizingly pat him on the back. “It’s alright. At least you did something. I was about to just sit and watch that rock kill me.”
A flash of golden light pulled Eve’s attention back to the fight just in time to watch Peter Shind collapse to the ground. Priya stood over him, one sword bloodied and another still in its sheath.
“Victor: Priya Estellian!”
“She looks strong.” Eve watched as a pair of healers rushed out to stabilize the fallen Geomancer. Cheat Death might’ve kept his head attached to his shoulders, but it sure as hells didn’t stop the bleeding.
“They’re all strong,” Preston replied. “It’s a tournament for tier 4s and high-rarity tier 3s.”
For his part, Art was too busy furiously clapping his taloned hands as the Sword Dancer took a bow and vacated the arena. Who’s next?
Next, as it turned out, were two plate-wearing juggernauts that spent the better part of an hour bashing their shields against each other until one finally ran out of Stamina. Eve paid the dull exchange little heed, though she did make a note of the victor’s name just in case he managed something more impressive in the later rounds. The party did need a new tank, after all.
Not even Art offered much in the way of applause as the second bout ended, though that changed promptly as the emcee announced a certain Disciple of the Devouring Flame from Nowherested. While the hatchling and Preston cheered in support of their friend, Eve looked over the archer he found himself up against.
“How much you wanna bet that Wes takes an arrow to the face?”
Preston shrugged. “Five silver?”
“Done.” Eve shook his hand.
“Contestants! You may begin!”
The archer nocked an arrow.
Wes erupted in flames. The mage himself became a living inferno as he activated Forged in Flames. He stepped forward. Around him the sand itself caught fire, the blaze creeping outward first in inches, then in feet.
With his second spell, Wes expanded the firestorm around him, spreading the cloak into a massive wall. With her sharp eyes, Eve could just make out his silhouette moving within the flames. As the first arrow flew wide, it became clear that Wes’s opponent couldn’t.
Eve had to admit it was a wise strategy. His Flame Jet couldn’t out-speed a well-aimed Huntsman’s Arrow, so it made sense to hide his position and let the inexorable blaze do its work.
And work it did.
The archer fired shot after shot as he desperately backpedalled from the spreading flames, slowly running out of places to run. Eve watched with a grin as one random arrow flew but inches from Wes’s shoulder, but the Disciple fought on.
It wasn’t until Eve herself felt the heat of the blaze kiss her skin that she noticed the tournament official frantically waving both arms at the emcee.
“Halt!” The air boomed with the minister’s shout. “Competitors, lay down your arms!” The archer dropped his bow.
The fire spread on, carefully climbing the walls of the coliseum. “I said halt!”
All at once the flames vanished, revealing Wes where he stood in the arena’s center. “Did I win?”
“Contestant Wesley Rollund is hereby disqualified for, and I can’t believe I’m about to say this, burning the wards.”
“I’m what?” Wes outburst.
In his customary nasally tone, the emcee explained. “Forces beyond our ability to protect the crowd are disallowed in all tournament matches. How a tier 3 came into possession of such is another question. Yern Binne is the victor by default.”
The crowd gaped. Art applauded. Eve dug out five silver from her pocket, paying Preston his winnings.
“Thank you, thank you,” the Caretaker accepted the coins. “Better luck next time.”
“That’s okay,” Eve said, “I can always shoot him myself if I get the urge.”
Only once the enchanters finished repairing Wes’s damage and the next bout was underway did the fire mage emerge into the stands, climbing his way up the stone steps to take his seat between Eve and Preston. “Well, it’s not quite the crushing win I was hoping for, but I’m sure it’ll impress the mercenary companies.”
“You mean all three of them that actually showed up today?” Eve needled him. “I’m sure the bottom-feeders were very impressed.”
Wes shrugged. “Word’ll get around. It’s not often they disqualify someone for being too powerful.”
“Maybe next time you should attack your opponent instead of the wards,” Eve snapped back.
“Speaking of,” Preston interrupted as the bout in front of them ended with a brutal ice bolt to the chest, “aren’t you up soon?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Eve pushed herself to her feet. “It’s not like I have much prep to do.” She gestured over herself, emphasizing that she already wore her armor.
“You should still get down there,” Wes said. “Those tunnels are a damned maze.”
“Alright, damn,” Eve replied, turning to leave the stands. “It’s not like I’m gonna get lost.”
Eve got lost.
After losing some twenty minutes running back and forth down the twisting passages beneath the arena, the Defiant found herself standing in the same archway as her opponent, a brooding berserker-type with more muscles than charisma.
“Whoops, wrong entrance,” she said, “guess I got turned around.”
He grunted at her.
Just as Eve moved to again start searching for her entrance, the emcee’s voice echoed in from outside. “First we have… hmmm… a level fifty-one Emissary from New Burendia, Evelia Greene!”
“Shit—um—sorry,” Eve muttered, running past the dark figure and out into the arena. Her face flushed red as she dashed across the sands to take her place on the opposite side.
“She’ll be facing one of our tournament favorites, a level sixty-three Hewer of Bones from the Salfdir Clan, Roric Ironarm!”
Eve got her first look at her opponent as he stepped into the sunlit arena. He stood six and a half feet tall and what must’ve been nearly three hundred pounds of pure muscle. Eve could tell because from the waist up, every inch of that muscle was exposed to the open air. In each hand he carried a single-edged axe, both of which showed the marks of countless battles fought and won.
He’s perfect. High level tournament favorite or otherwise, Eve couldn’t have asked for a better matchup. Her griffin-bone club outranged his one-handed axes, and she doubted a Hewer of Bones had any good ways to stop her Defiant Charge. She readied her weapon.
“Contestants! You may begin!”
Eve Jetted forward, activating Charge and Mana Rush at the same moment. I may as well end this quick, she thought to herself.
Roric did the same, dashing forth to meet her head on. He pulled back his axes for a brutal two-handed strike.
But Eve’s club was longer, and she made the first attack.
Her heart raced as the griffin-bone swung through the air, her muscles only holding up to their own immense Strength thanks to the Constitution bonus from Defiant Charge. It was exhilarating. Even here, without the direct threat of a painful death, adrenaline pumped through Eve’s veins.
Her attack flew true, the flared tip of the huge bone shooting towards Roric’s head at an unfathomable speed.
Until it wasn’t.
The blow stopped short, striking an impenetrable barricade of golden light. The rebound sent Eve’s club flying from her grasp. For a moment she froze, staring forward in abject terror before she realized her opponent was just as shocked as she was.
It wasn’t the announcer’s posh voice which broke the silence, but the wizened one of a particular Archbishop. “She wins,” the elderly priestess’s words echoed across the arena. “Evelia Greene is the victor.”
“Ramtshit!” Roric bellowed. “That wasn’t Cheat Death.”
“Cheat Death wouldn’t have saved you. Not against that.”
“That’s ramtshit!” The berserker repeated. “Let me fight!”
The Archbishop didn’t reply, simply turning to whisper something into the ear of one of her aides. Said aide carried the message on to the announcer.
With wide eyes and barely noticeable quiver to his tone, the minister addressed the crowd. “Archbishop Callandria has been kind enough to bestow a Divine Intervention to halt an attack that would’ve overcome even Cheat Death. Evelia Greene is the victor.”
Roric raged. “You didn’t even let me fight! I demand a rematch.”
“Roric Ironarm,” the announcer continued, “is eliminated.”
From there, the over-muscled brawler engaged in a shouting match with the tournament organizer. Eve, meanwhile, took the opportunity to collect her club from where it’d fallen and vacate the arena. Berserkers had a penchant for getting angry, after all, and easy as her win had come, she’d prefer not to fight him again without the protection of Cheat Death.
She re-navigated the maze of tunnels with a sly grin. Sure, she had a pissed-off Hewer of Bones to worry about, but Eve couldn’t have asked for a more decisive victory. An Emissary beating a tournament favorite so bad the Archbishop herself had to intervene made for two hells of a story. If her goal was to impress the mercenary companies, this was a damned good first step.
And she still had an entire tournament left.
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“Again,” Roric snarled, climbing back to his feet and dusting the sand off his bulky practice-padding.
Eve twirled her club in her hand. “You know, I’m starting to think I’m the one training you.”
Roric ran a hand over the thick leather that covered the blades of his axes. “Your technique is terrible.”
“But I keep winning.” Eve smirked.
“Because you are fast and strong,” the berserker put it simply, “not because you are a skilled warrior. Your footwork is uneven, your eyes broadcast your every move, you do not even hold your weapon properly. Who taught you to fight?”
Eve shrugged. “I did. A friend helped a little, but um…” Eve trailed off before deciding against telling that particular story. “Yeah it was mostly me.”
Roric spat. “Terrible. If you practice alone, you only reinforce the wrong way of doing things.”
“It’s worked out so far.”
“Because you are lucky. And you have balls. You have found a good class and taken the risks you needed to make it better.”
Eve raised an eyebrow. “What do you know about my class?”
“I know you are no Emissary,” he answered. “If you were an Emissary trained in combat, you would be using skill and good technique to overcome a lack of stats. Instead, it is the inverse.” Roric spoke with a weird stiltedness to his words, as if he were not yet fully accustomed to speaking the common tongue. “No. It is clear you have been depending on your class to do the work for you.”
“I’ve been doing lots of work, thank you very much,” Eve protested.
“The wrong work.”
“I think I’ve done pretty well on my own. I haven’t exactly had access to a combat instructor my entire life.”
“Why not?” Roric looked around the palace training yard. “You clearly have resources, and every city has warriors happy to earn a few silver without risking their lives.”
Eve paused. Shit, she thought. He’s right. Why haven’t I hired an instructor? She had, after all, been sitting around bored out of her mind for over a week in Ilvia with a bunch of gold burning a hole in her pocket. “I guess I never knew my technique was that bad.”
Roric blinked. “Really? Watching you fight, I would think you would be constantly losing your weapon or falling on your face.”
“What? No, that doesn’t…” Eve scratched the back of her head, mind flashing through a slideshow of all the times not even Surefooted had kept her on her feet. “Okay so maybe my technique isn’t great. Can you help?”
“You are lucky. Your style is similar to what every child of the Salfdir clan learns.”
“Great,” Eve chimed, brandishing her club, “what’s first?”
“First you put that down,” Roric spoke with an awful lot of authority for a man who still had sand in his hair. “You are not ready to be holding a weapon.”
“Tell that to all the things I’ve killed.”
Roric glared.
“Alright, alright,” Eve conceded, stepping away to lean her club against one of the pillars of the arcade surrounding the practice field. “So now what?”
“Now do as I do,” the axeman said, depositing his own weapons on the ground next to him. “Before you can learn to run, you first must learn to walk, and before you can walk, you must learn to stand.”
What followed was definitively the most boring day Eve had ever spent. Even after Roric had poked and prodded at her stance and posture to his satisfaction, he wouldn’t even let her walk. It took two hours of practice before Eve could take a single step forward without the berserker groaning and insisting she do it again with some minuscule adjustment. Even then she wasn’t allowed to walk—first she had to learn to take a step backwards.
It was grueling. As Roric explained, unlearning bad habits required far more work than learning good ones. It wasn’t just about learning how to stand or walk properly, but about overwriting her default movement with the proper form. To that end, even as Roric eventually left for the evening, Eve spent the entire night walking circles around the training yard ever mindful of the little corrections he’d made to her natural posture.
The next morning, Roric addressed all the issues that had crept their way into her practice while he’d been sleeping.
All in all, it made for a remarkably frustrating experience that Eve was all too eager to get over with. If only she were that lucky.
In three straight days of continuous training and practice, Eve only just managed to walk to Roric’s satisfaction, leaving her with a scarce few hours to learn how to run before her next day at the arena. Roric didn’t even bother.
“In normal circumstances,” he said, “I would not let you fight so soon. It will be easy to return to your old habits, and we would lose much progress.”
“I’m not missing the tournament,” Eve stated plainly. “That would defeat the entire purpose of you training me.”
Roric nodded. “We arrive at my point. I cannot stop you from fighting, so I will ask you to keep a mind towards your posture and footing. You are strong enough to win regardless, so afford some thought towards maintaining our work.”
Eve flashed a grin. “Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to end it quick.”
“Don’t ‘end it quick’,” Roric snapped back, “end it correctly. At least with correct footing. Maybe by the finals you will be learning how to swing that club of yours.”
“Alright, alright,” Eve said, gathering up her belongings to finally leave the training yard. Confident as she was, she still wanted to get a night’s sleep before her bout. “I’ll see you at the arena.”
“Good,” Roric grunted. “I will be watching.” Before turning to make his exit, he stopped to place a hand on Eve’s shoulder. “You are a hard worker. We’ll make a formidable warrior of you yet. Good luck tomorrow. Fight well.”
Eve grinned as he quoted the dungeon-entrance notification. “Goodnight, Roric.”
He neither nodded nor smiled in response, simply maintaining the same stern expression. With a softly uttered “goodnight,” he left.
As Eve made her own way to her bed, she reflected on the progress of the prior days. It had been slower than she’d hoped, much slower, but she had to admit she did feel somewhat sturdier on her feet, more stable. It likely wouldn’t make a difference tomorrow, but as she faced stronger and stronger enemies, it might someday make all the difference.
The man of the mists was right. There were other ways to gain strength besides leveling up, and Eve hadn’t even needed to win the tournament to find one.
“Contestants! You may begin!”
“Shit,” Eve cursed, lowering the hand she’d been waving in the air. “Damn bookie didn’t see me.”
“Who’s your pick?” Preston asked without looking her way, his eyes fixed on the coliseum floor where a hooded figure threw knives at a man with a giant floating crystal. “My money’s on crystal guy.”
Eve nodded. “Same. Hard for a rogue to accomplish much in an open arena on a sunny day.”
“Damn,” Wes muttered, “I want a giant floating crystal.”
A thunderous crack echoed through the arena as a bolt of lightning arced through the air to strike the roguish competitor. With a flash of golden light, the bout was over.
“Victor: Theodrin Palsk!”
“Damn,” Wes repeated himself, “I want a giant floating crystal that shoots lightning.”
That was so cool! Art applauded furiously, this time joined by the smattering of spectators who’d actually come to watch the second round of fights. I wanna learn lightning magic!
Preston patted him on the head. “Why don’t you worry about learning telepathy first?”
That’s boring!
Preston didn’t bother arguing with the hatchling, instead turning back to Eve. “So what’s your plan for fighting mister lightning crystal there?”
“Same plan as for every mage. Run in and kill ‘em before he gets a spell off. Rogue just stood there throwing knives while crystal guy charged up, what did he think was gonna happen?”
“Heh,” Wes chuckled, “charged up. Cause he’s a lightning mage.”
Eve groaned, her eyes wandering the stands as the next contestants took their places. They were nearly twice as crowded as they’d been for round one, though she still doubted any of the higher-ranked mercenary companies would make an appearance. Eve could only guess how many people would show up to watch the finals.
Roric sat in the front row on the opposite side of the coliseum. She’d offered him a seat with her and her friends, but he’d curtly declined, citing a desire to sit closer to the action. Eve quietly wondered if he secretly didn’t want to be seen socializing with the Emissary who’d so soundly beaten him in the ring.
Eve’s match was the last of the day, likely to avoid delays should the Archbishop need to use Divine Intervention again. Eve didn’t particularly care. Nobody had come to her and asked she tone it down a bit, so she had every intention of bringing her full force to bear against her opponent. The Archbishop had stopped the attack last time, and now she even knew it was coming.
As the bouts progressed, Eve managed to lose a fair bit of silver on questionable bets, until at last she decided whoever came up with the bookies’ odds was way better at estimating outcomes than she was. The fights were still exciting without money on the line, but that didn’t stop Eve from making little bets with Wes over how a given bout might end.
When the day grew long, Eve excused herself from the stands to make her way beneath the arena, giving herself plenty of time to navigate the dark tunnels before her match. The last thing she wanted was to enter from the wrong side twice in a row.
Fortunately enough, after spending an embarrassing amount of time wandering the maze of passages, Eve found herself staring out into the bright sand of the arena from an entryway all her own. Unless both she and her opponent had gone to the wrong sides, Eve figured she was probably in the right place.
“And to round out the day, we have a level fifty-one Emissary from New Burendia, Evelia Greene!”
Taking her cue, Eve jogged out into the ring, casually waving at the midsized crowd. She fixed her eyes on the entrance opposite her.
The announcer continued. “She’ll be facing a level fifty-nine Warden of Storms from Lynthia, Fenric Sen Parillian!”
Nobody appeared.
The applause died down, replaced with growing chatter as spectators whispered amongst themselves.
The emcee called out once more, “Fenric Sen Parillian!”
Still he didn’t show.
Eve watched with a furrowed brow as an aide scurried up to the announcer’s platform to whisper something into his ear.
“It would appear,” the Minister of Public Affairs to the queen of Leshk said with uncertainty in his voice, “that Fenric Sen Parillian has chosen to withdraw from the tournament rather than face her excellency, Miss Greene.”
The coliseum fell silent. Seconds passed. Eve wondered if she’d be given a new opponent. The announcer said nothing. For a time Eve considered breaking decorum to shout her question at the foppish minister, but the man seemed to collect himself in time to make a call.
“As her opponent has forfeited the match, Evelia Greene is the victor!”
The crowd didn’t know whether to boo or cheer or stare dumbfounded. At least they all seemed to agree they were disappointed to be robbed of the final bout’s worth of entertainment.
Eve simply shrugged and left the arena. It wasn’t her problem. Truth be told she understood Fenric’s reasoning. Confident as she was that the Archbishop would cast Divine Intervention in time, Eve wasn’t sure she’d bet her own life on it, especially when all that was to be gained was a near-certain loss.
She was, of course, a bit disappointed herself. She’d been quite looking forward to another showing in the arena, if only for the chance to actually fight with this new footwork technique Roric had taught her. The berserker, on the other hand, was probably jumping for joy that she hadn’t ruined her technique by fighting before she was ‘ready.’
Ah well, Eve thought to herself, two bouts down, eight to go. She stopped for a moment to look where she was going, scowling at the unfamiliar juncture in the dark tunnels before her. Now I just need to figure out how to get the hells out of here.
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With another midweek match, thought I'd make another pre-match analysis with all my free time at work on Tuesdays.
_______________

Villa:

Feelings are still sky high at the club. The arrival of Sanson has been the cherry on top of a rather large cake which we seemingly can't stop gorging ourselves on. We are one win away from matching last season's points haul and all but confirming our survival in the Premier League - with 19 games to go...
Form: Defeats away to City and Burnley still bore reasons for positivity, while our wins against Newcastle and Southampton showed off the grit and defensive solidity we can possess too. Overall, the inconsistency of our recent results is overshadowed by the positivity surrounding the performances themselves.
6 points from 4 matches, 2 clean sheets, 5 goals for, 5 goals against.

• Mark Lawrenson, BBC: "They have played well since returning to action after the coronavirus outbreak at the club."
  
• Telegraph: "Villa’s recent results may have been mixed, but their performances have been consistently good, even in the recent 3-2 defeat away to Burnley."
  

Southampton Match: It has been a return to our 'normal' side in recent times - Barkley's recovery during the break has seen us play an unchanged starting XI in all four matches (aside from McGinn's one-match ban). The same was true in our 1-0 win at St. Mary's, with Deano keeping faith in his regulars after the Burnley match.
The notable changes we saw in this match were in the style and intent of the team. Rather than the fast, flowing attack we are used to, Deano set the side up against Southampton to be hard to beat. For a coach who has been criticised at times for his inflexibility and single-mindedness, this was almost refreshing in its own right. Although we (once again) saw absolutely no real utilisation of the bench or reserves, this was still a new look from a side that is usually focused almost exclusively on attack.
Martinez earned his 10th clean sheet of the season in this one, and while his heroics have saved us countless times (including in this one), it's also important to note how rigid we were as a whole. We conceded zero shots on goal in the first 70 minutes, and 3/5 shots on goal for Southampton came in the same phase of play (from this corner).
Team News: While Wesley and Hause are continuing their recovery, we came through the Southampton match with no new injuries. Crucially, Jack and Targett avoided a 5th booking, and therefore suspension, before the 19 match threshold.
Sanson will be with the team again after being included in the travelling squad to Southampton last weekend. No word yet on if Deano plans any changes against an in-form Hammers side.

West Ham:

West Ham have been flying in recent times. They remain in the European hunt, and their impressive unbeaten run has seen them rise up from midtable in the last month and a half. They have also made a number of moves this January window. Although most have been outgoing players, they did sign Jesse Lingard on loan from United. The youngster - still only 28 - has bags of potential, says the manager who twice shipped him off at United.
Form: West Ham saw their unbeaten run come to an end against an understaffed Liverpool team. Before that they had taken a maximum 12/12 points in 2021, beating each of Everton, Burnley, West Brom and Palace by a single goal.
Liverpool Match: West Ham continue to be dangerous from set-pieces and Craig Dawson has his second goal in as many matches. That said, Liverpool controlled this match despite a poor first half, and really never looked like they were under much threat of losing.
Team News: West Ham will supposedly look to rest some of their usual starters, although have no injuries or suspensions to worry about. There is potential here for Yarmolenko, Lingard or Lanzini to move into the side in the short week with Bowen, Benrahma or Fornals dropping to the bench.
Tomas Soucek:
The big Czech continues to be a problem for opponents, with West Ham relying fairly heavily on set-pieces. Soucek has scored 4 of West Ham's 11 goals from set-pieces. Along with Craig Dawson and Angelo Ogbonna, expect him to attack every corner and freekick.

STATS

1. Style of Play
   West Ham are not a possession team. In their recent matches, only West Brom have ceded possession to the Hammers. They have one of the lowest possession percentages in the league with an average of 44% possession.
   
2. How do they like to score?
   I already mentioned how much they rely on set-pieces, but where exactly does their threat come from? 11 of their 29 goals have been from set-pieces (38%), while 10 more have been crosses from open play (34%).
   West Ham have attacked the wings all season, and we can expect them to do so again against us. Hopefully their usual wingers will be rested with only 2 days between matches. Whether they are or not, Cash and Targett will have a lot of work to do down the flanks to defend against West Ham's major threats.
   
3. History
   Before the meeting earlier this year, the head-to-head record in the top flight was dead even. This will be the 100th meeting of these two sides in the top division of English football, and the current record stands at:
   Villa 33 wins, West Ham 34 wins, 32 draws.
   Both sides have a significant home advantage historically, although Covid obviously takes away that impact somewhat.
   
4. How can we score?
   Obviously to go along with their aerial threat up front, comes a decent solidity at the back too - they've only conceded twice from set-pieces all season. This does mean that they've been fairly porous from open play, however. Only West Brom and Sheffield United have conceded more goals from open play, and only West Brom have conceded a greater percentage of open play goals.
   This stat is to be expected when you look at their aerial ability, possession style and overall strengths as a side. But, it does bode well for us given our proclivity for goals from open play and counters.
   

Finally - we are the bookies favourites to win this one along with many of the early pundits' and sportswriters' predictions. This means nothing tangible, but it is a nice sign to be the favourites against the team currently in 5th place.

So what are your predictions for this match? How will Deano set us up, and will Sanson earn his first appearance?

Hey everyone, hope you're holding up okay. I've been lurking on this sub for a good 5+ years, usually in the middle of the night reading up on unbelievably tragic stories whilst doing everything I can to comfort myself from the tragedies that I've bought upon myself.
Young and smart, old and wise , people of all backgrounds, varying upbringings and financial stabilities are destroying themselves, their loved ones, their future.
Whether you are betting away your last £5 because you're too numb to care that you will lose it or are £500k down with everything out on the line, I wish nothing more than for you to find yourself and take the steps to ridding yourself of this disease because if I cant go on like this anymore I really empathise with how some of you must be feeling. Accepting you have a problem, self exclusion, time off will be somewhat beneficial but that is just the bare minimum to finally stepping onto the right path of recovery.
We've all done terrible things in the peak of our madness. We've stolen, lied, forgot about others, the ones closest to us and most importantly.. ourselves. It's understandably difficult to be in a so called "healthy routine" or any kind of routine when you're undoubtably suffering for years on end and in most cases, alone. poor eating habits, fucked up sleep, and having brain juice solely from whatever $$$ you have left to fund your dopamine receptors is just fucked up.
It's fucked up because I know you who is reading this feels exactly like me, thinking "ah this is definitely my last time, there is no way I go beyond this much damage caused if I stop now I can recover and will be forgiven". I love this justification. I've used it at least a hundred times after major losses, and atleast another hundred times after confrontation with either my motheSO. In the beginning when my gf found it felt liberating to know that she does not hate me for my gambling antics and I have her for support, but thats where a lot of us fall victim to the bookies again.
Why am I writing all of this out? because its a good overview of something that seems so fucking simple yet we cannot get a grasp of it. Don't gamble. Never fucking gamble again. Don't chase past losses, don't chase recent losses because you've relapsed. Don't make the excuse of gambling towards paying off a bill because you know you won't have the funds to cover that bill. If you've come clean with close ones about gambling and they didn't beat you down as much as you already do that to yourself then please, don't take that as a sign to keep abusing their trust and making yourself feel like more of a degenerate, take action, stop betting, gambling, stocks, forex whatever fucking thing thats infront of you and making you lose your mind and life with all those numbers and graphs and predictions just put it away, put it away now please.
Im literally crying right now as I can imagine many of you are also in a distraught state but I'm writing this post out of desperation and selfishness, I know that whatever I wrote above is not enough as our brains are just wired differently to normal people, thats why I urge every single one of you to reach out the closest person you have in your life right now and do everything possible to have that person to fully safeguard you for x amount of time so that we get another fighting chance to join those living life for the emotions, memories and happiness that is yet to come, something gambling will never bring upon you, only take it away. Entered gambling young and optmistic. I left emotionless and beaten to my knees. I am ready to part ways with my inner tyrant that is my egoism, self hate and stubbornness to give way to a long road of recovery so that I can have the life I truly want. A nice and simple life without gambling.
Solnishko, I love you baby. I love everything about you. You make me smile when I'm sad, you lift me up when I'm down. Sometimes when you lift me up I'm still very very down in my head, and I'm sure this is apparent to you. I hate it. We've been through so many ups and downs throughout our young lives and I would never want us to repeat any of the bad ones again, I feel like those experiences have humbled me, made me stronger but the moment I'm even meddling with even £1 bets I feel like I shouldn't exist because I'm disrespecting you and all the tears that you shed for the hardships that I've put us through. you've had your flaws and I've had mine, but right now you are going above and beyond for us all whilst I sit around doing nothing and setting us back. I dont want to mention all the good things I do as those things would have more value would I not be burning money, so please help me find myself so I can be the best version of myself for you, it means the world to me that you see my good and the love I hold for you, thats why I made this post today, I don't want you to give up on me, Im scared every month when it comes to $$ I always mismanage us, my weed dependancy disgusts me and all in all I want to be a different person for you by the end of this year, I want you to be proud of me, not just for what I do for us, but for what I can do for you. Love you forever and always.
My friends, be well, stay clear of gambling and make sure someone is in full control of your finances and understands your situation so you don't have to be alone, you will struggle heavily on your own and I highly recommend killing your inner ego in order to be a better human being for your current family aswell as your future family.

So you all meet in a bar. But which one? Night City is full of nightspots, legal and not. Here’s a few interesting places that may slake your thirst and scratch your various itches.
1: Smash/Cut. Smash/Cut is a dance club owned by the EDM band URBIS, and frankly, the place would have closed down entirely if it wasn’t for the fact that URBIS are propping it up with their royalties. This isn’t because Smash/Cut is unpopular. To the contrary, it is one of the most popular nightspots in Night City. No, it’s because most clubs and bars make their profits off alcohol sales and Smash/Cut’s main clientele are drugged-up neo-ravers.
The interior decor is perfunctory, with a few desultory chairs and tables arranged around an immense dance floor. 360 degree wraparound vidwalls and holoprojectors in the ceiling and dancefloor combine with strobe lights and mirrors to create an atmosphere described as “an armored truck having sex with a neon sign”. You do not go to Smash/Cut to talk, as most conversations are inaudible under the loud dance beat. You go to Smash/Cut to dance, and to have casual sex with people you haven’t spoken to. The staff at Smash/Cut are trained in American Sign Language to communicate quickly in a crisis, and many of them have dazzle compensation in their smart glasses or cybereyes. Noise-cancelling earplugs are standard issue.
Signature drink: None, but the bar always has energy and isotonic drinks available for the thirsty neo-ravers. €8 per 20oz bottle.
2: Fiddler’s Green. Fiddler’s Green is a popular Irish pub run by a veteran of the SouthAm wars, Kate Mulvaney, who can be seen mopping the bar with her medical-grade cyberarm. She, her wife Audrey, and their extended family staff the place, which is also open from 11:30AM on for lunch hours, as Fiddler’s Green also serves classic American-Irish food such as corned SCOP on cabbage. It’s a lively but not overwhelming place full of military and PMC veterans looking to unwind.
A former Panzergirl, Kate named Fiddler’s Green for the place cavalrymen supposedly go to after they die, while mere infantrymen have to go straight to their infernal rewards. It’s a good place for any Edgerunner to pick up the gossip and hear about jobs. Kate operates a poste restante service for various mercs, holding mail for them until they come to pick it up.
Signature drink: The Pint O’ Plain. Actual Irish Guinness imported from Ireland, with a softer edge than Canada-brewed Guinness. Kate has contacts. €10 per pint.
3: Kasim’s. Kasim’s is an unusual nightspot inasmuch as it does not serve alcohol, as its proprietor, Kasymbek, is a devout Muslim of Turkish descent. What Kasim’s has is strong thimble-size cups of Turkish-style street coffee and some of the best scented tobacco on the market, all compounded to be smoked in water-pipes, or nargile. Kasymbek’s thick, bitter street coffee (no actual coffee beans involved) is served in small cups, unfiltered, and flavored with cardamom, and drinkers are supposed to drain the liquid contents and leave the dregs behind.
As a compliment to guests, Kasymbek serves each pot of coffee with a plate of free sweets, sometimes loukum (Turkish delight) or baklava, made by Kasymbek’s mother Elif, who runs the kitchen. Elif will occasionally leave the kitchen to come out and greet favorite customers, and take a puff or two of rose-scented tobacco herself. If she really likes you, she might read your coffee grounds for you and try to tell your future. Kasim’s is closed on Fridays for Friday prayers.
Signature drink: Strong black street coffee, with a small plate of sweets. €10 per cup, to be refilled as long as you keep buying tobacco for your nargile, €8 per foil packet.
4: Bella Mia. Bella Mia is an exclusive club to see and be seen at, established by rockergirl and ultramodel Velvet Lux, who uses the place for PR and for soft releases of new clothing from her exclusive Lux Lines fashion label. The bouncers at Bella Mia’s are all issued with custom Wardrobe and Style skill chips that allow them to only let the best-dressed people in. In practice this means you’re probably only getting in the door if you were dressed by someone who has a Wardrobe and Style Base of 14 or better. Detractors call Bella Mia’s “Bulimia’s”, which is completely unfair, since part of Lux’s brand is an emphasis on healthy eating.
Signature drink: The Velvet Lush, Prosecco with passionfruit pulp. €20 per glass. Yes, Velvet’s just bad at naming things, but she tries her best, really.
5: Sakura’s. Sakura’s is an izakaya, an informal bar where customers may partake of beer or sake over a wide selection of Japanese drinking snacks. Marked by distinctive red paper lanterns flanking its door, Sakura’s is a Night City mainstay. The menu has been curtailed in recent times, but fans of edamame and yakitori can still find those old favorites, as long as they’re willing to accept fakemeat on the chicken skewers. Sakura’s was never really a hangout for Arasaka expats, who tended to frequent more upscale establishments. Instead, Sakura’s main clientele were Night City denizens of Japanese-American descent.
The original owner, Sakura Yamamoto, is long dead, and the bar is now run by her grandson Toru Evans.
Signature drink: Warmed sake, €25 per flask.
6: Greta’s. Greta’s was originally established as a lesbian bar back in the 1990s, but of recent nights its clientele has expanded, as it is now more famous for the quality of its amateur pool players, and the amount of betting that can take place over a single game. A pleasantly divey bar, Greta’s still attracts a healthy proportion of sapphics, each evening, especially because the top non-professional pool player in Night City is the butch and dapper Tech Jack Sawyer, and she will only play and drink at Greta’s.
Jack has her pride, and will not lose a game to please bookies. That has led to the armed lesbians among Greta’s clientele forcibly escorting injured Fixers out of the club after they dared make that suggestion to Jack Sawyer.
Signature drink: The Sunk Pocket, cherry infused vodka, Grand Marnier, and a splash of heavy whipping cream, topped with a Maraschino cherry. €15 per glass.
7: Chopper’s. Chopper’s is not a biker bar, despite the name. No, the name alludes to the fact that this bar used to be a local butcher’s shop, up until there just wasn’t any more meat to sell. The proprietor of Chopper’s, a slightly pouchy-looking man named Norman, has put the old chill-cases to good use by keeping booze cold in them. Customers sit on high stools up against the chill-cases, and Norman and his staff pour out the shots and slide them over.
Customers also come to Chopper’s because Norman’s nephew 80/20 runs a Fixer business out of the now-defunct walk-in freezer in the back. 80/20 got his nickname by what he’s willing to do to people who try to fuck him over, because unlike the walk-in, the meatgrinder still works… Enterprising Techs or Medtechs also come to Chopper’s for pre-owned cyberware. You just gotta clean it and fix it back up.
Signature drink: What kind of fancy place do you think we’re running? We got beer. We got rotgut. What do you want? €10 per glass of beer, €10 per shot of rotgut.
8: Redline. Redline IS the place to watch fights. Not bar fights, no. Redline brings the best in augmented and unaugmented mixed martial arts. The entire bar is built around a window-lined fighting pit. Customers willing to book the private viewing rooms (€200 to €1k depending on the fights) get to sit up against those big armored windows, watching people fight each other, while waiters and waitresses bring them their drinks and their bar snacks.
Less wealthy customers can hang out in the bar area, watching the fights from the caged top of the pit, or on screens mounted on the walls. The cage on top of the fighting pit is a new addition, installed after a cybered-up fighter threw her opponent clean out of the pit and onto some customers. Officially all fights are fought to the knockout, and Redline maintains a Trauma Team membership so fighters who get badly fucked-up can get treated. However, the rumor goes that there are deathmatches every month, on the new moon, for special guests and customers only.
Owner-proprietor Jenny Nails denies all of that, naturally.
Signature drink: The Winner’s Cup. Salty beef bouillon (made with a bouillon cube nowadays), cognac, worcestershire sauce, lemon juice, and a garnish of soy bacon, €20 per glass.
9: Red Oktober. Red Oktober is a Soviet themed bar and restaurant based on an old novel about a nuclear sub that went rogue. The bar, built in a defunct subway station, is done up to look like the inside of a Soviet bomb shelter, and its staff all wear replicas of Soviet military uniforms and speak with varying Russian accents. (Some good, some awful.) The walls are plastered with Soviet propaganda posters and the jukebox only plays patriotic Russian songs sung by the men of the Red Army Choir.
Tank, the owner-operator of the joint, inherited 4 Green Box storage units full of Soviet propaganda posters and kitsch from his late granduncle Ollie, who had been a political science professor at Night City U. That inheritance was largely useless to Tank, up until he had the idea of opening the Red Oktober as a theme bar and restaurant.
The Red Oktober attracts Red Army posergangers, real Cold War veterans, and Soviet emigres alike, if only because Tank also managed to poach the kitchen staff of a defunct Russian restaurant before they left Night City altogether, and now The Red Oktober serves the best Russian cuisine in the city.
Signature drink: Vodka. €16 per double for the good stuff.
10: Bear’s. Bear’s is named for its huge, hairy owner, but also for the moth-eaten bear head sitting above the bar. Bear is a jolly giant of a man with forearms the size of hams, whose deep rolling laugh can be heard frequently over the clink of beer mugs and the low hum of conversation. If asked to, Bear will relate the story of how his great-grandfather shot that bear whose head is mounted above the bar, with many, many embellishments.
Bear’s is famous for its microbrew beers, and has a limited menu of SCOP burgers and fries, chili con kibble, and tofu hot wings. To Bear, a proper beer ought to be thick and rich, like a liquid loaf of bread, and he despises the practice of covering up inadequate flavor with excessive hops. Bear is an ale man, and he will die on that hill. Bear runs the place with several apprentice brewers — he seems disinterested in sex or romance, and he intends to continue his legacy by adopting an heir.
Signature drink: Bear’s Berry Beer, a strong ale with pureed blackberries poured into the wort for secondary fermentation, giving it a whopping ABV of 9%. €12 per mug.
11: The Randy Dandy. The Randy Dandy is built in a passenger ferry out in Flotsam, Night City’s floating district out past the harbor, and can only be accessed by swimming (ugh) or by boat. Occasionally, very rarely, she puts in to harbor herself to pick up important dignitaries when the Randy Dandy is booked for Nomad family meetings. Run by a sea Nomad known only as The Skipper, the Randy Dandy is the place to go to pick up harbor gossip or buy sweet lots of salvage before it makes it to the middlemen on land, who will mark it up as it passes through their hands.
The Skipper is a lean, leathery woman of middle age with iron-gray hair, and a harsh, low voice. She’s missing the two smallest fingers on her right hand — ”an accident with a coil of rope when I was young and stupid,” — but does well enough without prosthetics. Her rule for the Randy Dandy is “Don’t start none, won’t be none,” and disobedient customers will be swiftly tossed overboard by one or two of her burly crew. Business is the general atmosphere at the Randy Dandy, and the Skipper arranges matters so that the eddies keep flowing.
Signature drink: The Blackbeard. Rum, ginger oil, and a squeeze of lime, on the rocks. €15 per shot.
12: Yum Seng. Yum Seng is run by Alan Lam, a Chinese-American raconteur of Cantonese heritage. Lam’s grandfather fled Hong Kong with his sizable fortune shortly before Hong Kong left British control, and Alan has used his inheritance wisely, building a modest empire in the vice scene of Night City. Yum Seng (Cantonese for “cheers!”) is a host and hostess bar, but it’s also oddly one of the best places to get a seafood meal, because Alan Lam is also something of a gourmand. Customers to Yum Seng are asked to choose their seating by the host at the entrance. Customers who just want to eat are escorted to tables in the communal eating hall. Customers who want more personal attention are escorted to booths, where they will be attended to by pretty, pretty people.
Lam is smart enough that he’s not using Yum Seng as a money laundering front. No, that’s for the other businesses he controls in Night City. Yum Seng is just his personal hangout. He takes great interest in the comfort and satisfaction of his customers, stopping at their tables or booths to ask if all is well, and is very responsive to their concerns. The seafood is the best and freshest in Night City, the drinks are of high quality, and the hosts and hostesses are all beautifully and elegantly bodysculpted and trained in manners and etiquette.
There are also soundproof karaoke boxes, because Lam LOVES karaoke. Any Edgerunners wanting to do business with him will have to participate. He doesn’t expect them to sound good, but he wants them to have the balls to try.
Signature drinks: Anything expensive and showy. Veuve Clicquot, 18-year Scotch, all at least 150% of standard price, except when Alan Lam visits your table, then he comps you the drink after asking if you’ve had a good time.
13: Chatelaine’s. Chatelaine’s is a smoky old cabaret decorated and designed to look like it came out of the 1930s. The mirrors are scratched by hand and hazed with airbrushed pigment to look smoky and stained, the synthetic floors are treated to look like scuffed wood, and the staff all dress in period costume. Chatelaine’s is also one of the more popular gay bars in Night City, with a Friday Burlesque Night and a Saturday Drag Fest, to the point where some nights they have more heterosexual tourists than actual queer customers.
This has led to some murmurs that Chatelaine’s has “sold out”, and members of the Night City Queens gang have begun shunning Chatelaine’s Drag Fests. Owner and proprietor Lulu deLuz remains supportive of queer concerns, however, and she has allowed young homeless queer people to sleep in the club’s office space while she arranges for emergency housing for them.
Signature Drink: The Cocktease, peach schnapps, Cointreau, crème de cassis, €18.
14: The XX. The XX (pronounced “The Twenty”) is a raucous punk dive that serves no liquor. That’s because the punk band that owns and runs it, Breakfist, are straight-edge, partaking of no booze or drugs. The XX has a juice bar instead of a booze bar, and their smoothies are particularly good. That’s because Breakfist bassist Ten Ton used to be a pantry bitch at one of Night City’s finest eateries, Angelo’s, and she uses her restaurant contacts to pick up bruised and wilted fruits and vegetables before they get thrown in dumpsters. Her pickup runs save the back-of-house staff a drop-off trip, and she saves on ingredients for the bar’s juices. After all, nobody’s going to care how beat-up a fruit looks if you’re going to stick it in a blender.
The XX’s other draw is live punk music, every night. While the various members of Breakfist aren’t always available every night, they allow other acts to perform at the club with one caveat: Nazi Punks Fuck Off.
Signature drink: The Lean Mean Machine. Frozen bananas put in a blender with soymilk, chocolate-flavored syrup and peanut-butter flavored kibble to make a mean smoothie. €16 per cup.
15: Yewtree. Yewtree is a slightly overpriced neo-hipster bar near the new Night City U campus, and is therefore crammed with students most nights. The bouncers seem constitutionally incapable of recognizing a fake ID, and yet Yewtree has never been raided by NCPD. That’s because Yewtree was set up with the covert cooperation of NCPD. College kids will drink. They’re going to do it no matter how many enraged calls their parents will make. So why not make sure they can do so with a minimum of trouble? So Yewtree welcomes its fake ID wielding hordes, and waters the drinks down just enough. Bartender Stuart Hedley keeps an eye out for anyone trying to get someone drunker than they want to be, and he listens to the gossip, and if anything truly alarming reaches his ear, then he passes it on to the Lawmen.
Signature drink: Slightly overpriced, watered-down beer, €12 per mug.
16: Air is a sterile white cube with transparent glass bars, and uncomfortable brushed-steel stools, and it sells curated blends of scented, purified air to the afflicted masses of Night City. It’s an unfortunate truth that the air in Night City can be heavily polluted at times, and Air was established to make breathing a commodity.
Ranks of transparent oxygen masks hang above the bars at Air, and customers choose their blend of choice from a touch-screen embedded in the bars themselves. Then they put on the mask, insert their credchip, and the flow starts.
Signature drink: Alpine Mountains Blend, 20% oxygen in nitrogen with assorted herbal scents. €5 per minute.
17: Rusty’s Dive Shack. Need a drink while you prep your salvage dive? Need to rent mostly-safe dive equipment to do a salvage run? Want to trade salvage for booze and eliminate the middleman? Rusty’s Dive Shack is the place to go. Rusty is a sour old coot with the heart of a pawnbroker and the merciless gaze of a seagull, and he caters to those salvagers too poor to own proper kit, and too desperate to not work for him.
There’s all kinds of stuff out there in Night City Harbor. Most of the stuff on ships has already been cleared out by Families of sea Nomads, so it’s the stuff in the drink for the unconnected and ill-equipped. Rusty will rent would-be salvagers equipment for a share of the finds. He’ll also take their salvage if they want to trade it for booze.
Signature drink: Homemade shark liver oil, supposed to keep you warm in the cold depths €12 per cup. Tastes fishy and rancid.
18: Maria’s. Maria’s is a lively little beer tent with outdoor seating. The chairs and tables are loosely chained together so nobody can run off with individual pieces of furniture. Not without bringing bolt cutters, anyway. Maria’s is a popular hangout for road Nomads as it’s set up in the vast amount of parking space near several industrial workshops — an auto body shop, a couple chop shops, and a Tech workshop shared by two vehicle specialists.
The original Maria passed away five years ago, and now Maria’s is being run by members of her extended family, among them her niece, Lupita Garza, or Little Wolf. Little Wolf is a trained Medtech, but she comes around and tends bar in between jobs. The Nomad connection means that Maria’s is one of the few non-executive bars where you can get real tequila, as it gets trucked in by various Nomad families on a regular basis.
Signature drink: Real tequila. €20 per shot.
19: Buffalo’s. Buffalo’s is cursed. No two words about it. Track down a hospitality professional after shift and ask them, and they will tell you about the Bad Restaurant Curse. The Bad Restaurant Curse works like this: A restaurant will open in a space, and it will be a bad one. All future restaurants using that space will also be bad ones. This apparently applies also to bars.
The first bar opened in Buffalo’s space was Foxy’s, a topless sports bar and wing joint, which was acceptable enough except that the management got busted for using “illegal” meat in the boneless wings. A commonplace, in Night City. Foxy’s was replaced by Baby Grand, a piano bar and lounge, but their management got busted for money laundering. Baby Grand was replaced by Frezh, a juice bar that got shut down after it gave most of its customers food poisoning one night, and so on so forth, for the past sixty years.
The current management of Buffalo’s has lasted three months and there’s a healthy betting pool projecting its closure in timespans ranging from the next week to the next month.
Signature drink: The Buffalo Nose. Bourbon, pickle juice, lemon juice, Tabasco sauce. €16.
20: Anjelika’s. Anjelika’s is a host and hostess bar, and the destination for anyone who might have a cyberware kink. The hosts and hostesses are all bodysculpted with EMP lines and Chemskin to look like attractive androids and gynoids, and some of them have taken on employment at Anjelika’s so they can save for further cybernetic modifications to their bodies.
The most popular host at Anjelika’s is Gavin, a beautiful young man with bronze-tinted skin, custom cybereyes, and cybernetic arms and legs. He lost his organic limbs in a childhood accident and has spent his whole life with more chrome than some Solos. His cyberlimbs are custom designs from Rocklin, and he changes the casings to suit his wardrobe. Gavin’s popular not just because he’s the most cybered-up host in Anjelika’s, but because he has a warm, sympathetic manner with his clients, who just want to be pampered emotionally for an hour. He also does modelling work in the daytime, and has been solidly booked three months ahead for the past year.
Signature drink: The Coolant Flush. Midori, peppermint schnapps, seltzer. €16 per highball.
PS: And with this I'm taking the weekend off. (: More posts Monday.

Right. Pretty much as the title says. These are the other ladders my whacked out mind ended up devising that didn't deserve their own post like last try wins or didn't fit into either of the last two posts. I'll try to keep it short, seeing as it'll be Christmas Eve when this comes out, but no guarantees.
If the Ladder was Reset After Round 2
Cast your mind back to April. The NRL season had already been shut down for a few weeks, and May 28 was already being touted as a possible restart date. What was also touted was the season only going fifteen rounds, including the two already completed. Given this, Roosters boss Nick Politis (important to note the Roosters were winless at this point) wanted the table to reset in order to "protect the integrity of the competition.
Thankfully, cooler heads prevailed and the points from the first two rounds remained (and the season ended up going twenty rounds - less important). But what if Uncle Nick got his way, and the ladder got reset? Let's find out. (NOTE: Still assuming a twenty round season)

POS	Team	P	W	D	L	F	A	PD	PTS
1	Panthers	18	16	1	1	485	196	+289	33
2	Storm	18	14	0	4	504	262	+242	28
3	Roosters	18	14	0	4	530	293	+237	28
4	Eels	18	13	0	5	338	280	+58	26
5	Raiders	18	12	0	6	401	305	+96	24
6	Rabbitohs	18	11	0	7	481	312	+169	22
7	Sharks	18	10	0	8	452	446	+6	20
8	Knights	18	9	1	8	359	350	+9	19
9	Titans	18	9	0	9	334	393	-59	18
10	Warriors	18	8	0	10	337	418	-81	16
11	Dragons	18	7	0	11	336	396	-60	14
12	Tigers	18	6	0	12	392	449	-57	12
13	Sea Eagles	18	6	0	12	362	483	-121	12
14	Cowboys	18	4	0	14	323	476	-153	8
15	Bulldogs	18	3	0	15	264	472	-208	6
16	Broncos	18	1	0	17	218	585	-367	2

OP's Notes and Analysis

• Any changes in position are marginal, with teams either retaining their original position or go up or down by 1 place
  
• The eight teams that qualify for the finals remain unchanged
  
• Tigers not ninth
  
• [CTRL+C, CTRL+V] Broncos last
  
• Week 1 of the Finals would see the Panthers play the Eels and the Storm play the Roosters in the Qualifying Finals, and the Elimination Finals would see the Raiders play the Knights and the Rabbitohs play the Sharks
  

So I guess you could argue that resetting the ladder wouldn't have had as much of an impact as some people thought it would back in April. Personally, as a fan of a team that would end up losing 67% of their wins for the year: don't ever suggest something so stupid ever again.
If Tries Were the Only Way to Score Points
I actually did this one last year at the request of u/mjp80 (a Sharks fan) due to their goal-kicking accuracy problems. I don't expect results as drastic as last year, but it's worth a look. Important to note, tries are still worth four points and not one.

POS	Team	P	W	D	L	F	A	PD	PTS
1	Panthers	20	17	1	2	368	168	+200	35
2	Storm	20	13	4	3	364	188	+176	30
3	Roosters	20	13	3	4	376	216	+160	29
4	Raiders	20	13	3	4	308	216	+92	29
5	Eels	20	9	7	4	272	208	+64	25
6	Sharks	20	11	2	7	340	332	+8	24
7	Knights	20	11	1	8	300	252	+48	23
8	Rabbitohs	20	9	2	9	344	260	+84	20
9	Titans	20	9	1	10	256	304	-48	19
10	Tigers	20	5	5	10	320	360	-40	15
11	Warriors	20	7	1	12	244	336	-92	15
12	Sea Eagles	20	4	6	10	276	360	-84	14
13	Cowboys	20	6	1	13	268	368	-100	13
14	Dragons	20	4	4	12	256	316	-60	12
15	Bulldogs	20	3	3	14	200	372	-172	9
16	Broncos	20	3	2	15	192	428	-236	8

OP's Notes and Analysis

• Once again, not too much variance in ladder positions (unlike the Sharks last year, who saw their position drastically improve)
  
• Again, the eight teams that qualify for the finals remains unchanged
  
• Just [CTRL+C, CTRL+V] points three and four from the last ladder
  
• Week 1 of the Finals would see the Panthers play the Raiders and the Storm play the Roosters in the Qualifying Finals, and the Elimination Finals would see the Eels play the Rabbitohs and the Sharks play the Knights
  

If the Bookies' Favourites Won Every Match
For those of you who aren't too keen on betting talk, this ladder probably isn't the one for you.
In pretty much every match, one team will always be favoured to win over the other. One of the better simpler ways to judge favouritism is to see what the bookmakers are saying. As most people would know, they aren't always 100% correct and the underdogs sometimes come out on top. But what if, in what would possibly be a nightmare scenario for the bookies, the team they judge to be the favourites come out on top every single time?
In a similar fashion to the last try wins ladder, the favourites will get the two points. In order to determine the favourites (and sort out points differential), I used the spreadsheet from Australia Sports Betting (which has data from 2009 onwards) and used the closing odds to determine the winner and handicap line to determine the score. For example: if Team A was favoured to beat Team B with a line of -6.5 points, Team A would win 6.5 to nil (which will explain why there are a number of .5 values in the ladder below - if this is still confusing, just ask below).

POS	Team	P	W	D	L	F	A	PD	PTS
1	Roosters	20	20	0	0	238.5	0	+238.5	40
2	Eels	20	18	0	2	143	17.5	+125.5	36
3	Panthers	20	16	0	4	165	15	+150	32
4	Storm	20	16	0	4	166.5	18	+148.5	32
5	Knights	20	14	0	6	84.5	51	+33.5	28
6	Raiders	20	13	0	7	141	39	+102	26
7	Rabbitohs	20	13	0	7	105	44.5	+60.5	26
8	Sharks	20	11	0	9	55.5	57.5	-2	22
9	Dragons	20	10	0	10	51	78	-27	20
10	Sea Eagles	20	7	0	13	46	59	-13	14
11	Tigers	20	7	0	13	45.5	86	-40.5	14
12	Cowboys	20	7	0	13	33	129.5	-96.5	14
13	Broncos	20	3	0	17	16	177.5	-161.5	6
14	Titans	20	2	0	18	5.5	163	-157.5	4
15	Warriors	20	2	0	18	4	177.5	-173.5	4
16	Bulldogs	20	1	0	19	2.5	189.5	-187	2

OP's Notes and Analysis

• Slightly more position variability, but not too much
  
• (Something that was noted in the lead up to the Panthers v Roosters Qualifying Final) The Roosters were favourites for all twenty of their regular-season matches
  
• Again, the eight teams that make the finals is unchanged
  
• Tigers not ninth (something tells me this didn't need to be pointed out every single time)
  
• Despite "winning" as many matches as they did in real life, the Broncos somehow stay off the bottom of the ladder
  
• The only time the Bulldogs were favourites was for their Round 15 match against the Warriors
  
• Week 1 of the Finals would see the Roosters play the Storm and the Eels play the Panthers in the Qualifying Finals, and the Elimination Finals would see the Knights play the Sharks and the Raiders play the Rabbitohs
  

And there we have it. Over the course of four weeks, nine different scenarios, most of which really didn't need to see the light. For those of you that read through all posts, thank you. I don't know why you did, I don't know how much time you burned doing so, but I hope it was somehow worth it, and let's hope I don't think of something stupider for next year.

The London Post

19-24 minutes
By Dr. Shahid Qureshi: –
A young journalist in London asked me "Do you know someone who is working against the national interests of Pakistan?". That was an interesting question from a typical young Pakistani who is loyal and patriotic to the country. I was nearly heartbroken to tell him that there is more and almost everyone who matters in Pakistan is in some way is selling Pakistan cheap to the enemies. Normally people think about spies and agents like James Bond 007 who goes on a mission and meet beautiful girls and come back successful. Well, that is one part of spying and espionage. The way Pakistani agents serving their foreign masters is a bit subtle and sinister. I have discussed some in the upcoming book and exposed them in the articles. People trust journalists more than the spies and agency operatives as they don’t have any loyalties to the sources but journalists do. I have seen many journalists threatened with imprisonment by the state but they did not disclose their sources following the journalistic code of ethics. Most civilized countries have a declassifying system for the official government records and obviously, those who have signed the official secrets act of the country don’t write books or come on TV channels to discuss their missions and details? Only in Pakistan you can do and get away with it. For example, Lt. General Asad Durrani was assigned a task by the President of Pakistan Ghulam Ishaq Khan to counter Benazir Bhutto who was compromised on Pakistan’s nuclear program and Indian affairs. The president ordered to dislodge her without creating too many currents keeping in view Pakistan’s ground realities. It was his oath to keep that secret as ISI chief but he behaved worst than an informant. He broke his oath, violated the official secrets act of Pakistan by giving an affidavit to FIA director Rehman Malik. The only attraction for him probably was to get posting as an ambassador. This is known as the Asghar Khan case currently hanging in the supreme court of Pakistan and no government is sincere enough to put an end to it by submitting the response and call the parties involved.
A few years ago, I was sitting with General Mike Jackson former British Army Chief, I asked him ‘why did you not take control of Sarajevo airport in Bosnia and Herzegovina’? He replied to me very quietly ‘read my book’. Apparently, the American General asked him to take control of the airport and he reportedly refused by saying: ‘I don’t want to start 3rd World War. Now it is the duty of the security establishment to provide training to its officials as to how to live a retired life without compromising national security and if at all they need to write a book, the transcript must be cleared by the premier agency. Let’s imagine a Pakistani agent is tasked to delay the installation of an electricity project to destroy the whole industry and infrastructure of the country. I wrote in 2006, that this load-shedding of electricity in Pakistan is linked with the security of the country. People acknowledge the risk assessment but they could not do anything as the people who were doing all this were sitting in high positions. The dramatic escape of the longest-serving Indus Water Commissioner to Canada is one example. He obtained Canadian citizenship and nobody from the security establishment question his activities. He delayed the Pakistani water projects and facilitated Indian dams on Pakistani rivers. Then we see the politicians from PPP, MQM, and ANP receiving instructions and findings from Indian agency RAW to make Kalabagh Dam project controversial and let the Sindhis drown in floods as well as cause damage in billions to land, crops, properties, livestock, and national infrastructures from rail to road links every year. This project was actually approved by British engineers during the 1930s. so if it was ok then how come it becomes problematic in the 1980s? Well appointing a corrupt and incompetent is also a form of espionage against the country for example during Zardari Rule 2008 -2013 he appointed the most corrupt and incompetent on the highest positions. He introduced another damaging policy of ‘system bypass’. With this policy, he bypassed all the rules, and his men in the presidency were calling direct to the land department junior officials and police station inspectors, or even below to do the illegal tasks. The flourishing of the land mafia was at its peak in the whole of Pakistan, especially in Sindh province. His party members and cronies were directly involved in ‘target killings of security officials’ attacks on government infrastructures. Over 25000 people were killed, billions of rupees’ revenue were lost due to strikes and terrorism in Sindh while PPP and MQM-A were ruling the province, which we know now was happening on the behest of RAW the Indian agency. Both military and civilian establishment is fully responsible, with the support of politicians like British criminal terrorist Altaf Hussain, Asif Zardari, and his team and now Nawaz Sharif and his agents, as well as military dictator like Pervez Musharraf and his team as tons of material and reports were filed to all the above but they chose not to act and remain complicit. A security official said to me a few years ago: ‘sir we can stop these bombings in 24 hours only if we are allowed to respond in kind to the supporters and abettors of these bombings. Musharraf was a megalomaniac and had a delusion of grandeur about himself. I told him that NRO (National Reconciliation Ordinance) is a black dot in the history of Pakistan. He admitted to me that ‘it was a mistake’ and said cases were not moving and going anywhere’. I told him that just because something is not working does not mean you need to make it worse? He agreed with the analogy. Let me give you another example of how foreign agents work or operate at high places. Former ISI officer Major Amir disclosed in a GEO TV program that: ‘when he was appointed Director-General Immigration, the Indian embassy in Islamabad was not very happy and asking about me’. He stated: I found out that Indians who were traveling to Dubai could stopover in Karachi and also sneaking out. I immediately stopped this practice it was like giving open access to RAW not only to launch its agents but also brief and debrief them’. The person who opposed this ban was no other but Sharyar Khan foreign secretary of Pakistan. Nawaz Sharif appointed about 80 years old Sharyar Khan as head of Pakistani cricket and Najam Sethi another pro India mole to keep him company. Guess what Pakistan is losing all its important matches to India because all the gambling bookies are being run from Mumbai. Earlier Pakistan had a foreign secretary Riaz Mohammad Khan whose wife was active service head of training in the US State Department. A Central Asian diplomat from Kazakhstan told me that: ‘if I had to marry a foreign national I would have to resign from the diplomatic service’. This joke did not stop here earlier Pakistani Defence Secretary Skindar Mirza had a full-blown affair with Nahid Afghamy wife of Col Afghamy Iranian Military Attaché to Pakistan. He later got married to her and Nahid Afghamy becomes Pakistan’s first lady of President Skindar Mirza and Army Chief Ayub Khan regularly saluted her. That was the worst security breach but that did not stop here Nahid Afghamy give full access of the presidency to her relative Nusrat Isphani (Bhutto) and her husband ZA Bhutto. She was also 2nd wife of ZA Bhutto like her. Since then we had no real oil and gas mining in Baluchistan for the past 68 years. Was that mission of Nahid Afghamy or much more? We don’t know.
During John F Kennedy’s presidency reportedly FBI chief went to the US Attorney General his boss and brother of JFK with the photos of the president with the actress Marilyn Monroe who was also linked with the mafia. He told US Attorney General the FBI thinks this affair is not appropriate. Well, it is a matter of national security who the president of Pakistan is sleeping with Ayan Ali or Nahid Afghamy? Pakistan suffered from sabotage, espionage, and terrorism even before it was fully created. In a 1995 article, `Pearls of Memory’ (Al-Nahal„ Spring 1995), M M Ahmad wrote that: ‘close to independence, l was `designated by Pakistan’ as additional deputy commissioner of Amritsar to take over the charge of the district if it was awarded to Pakistan. One day the British deputy commissioner of Amritsar told him `casually that:’Gurdaspur district is likely to go to India’. The award of Gurdaspur gave India a land corridor to Jammu and Kashmir and so enabled it to Occupy the territory after three months.
A preliminary version of the award was ready on 8th August 1947. The definitive version was with the Viceroy, Lord Mountbatten (1.1979) on 12 August. However, Mountbatten informed India and Pakistan on 16 August- after the `process of the Transfer of Power had been completed’. M M Ahmad gives no date when this `top secret’ information was given to him. However, instead of rushing to report the matter to the Government of Pakistan, he traveled to Qadiyan to inform his `khalifa’. This contrasted with I the conduct of Indian officers who immediately reported any sensitive leak or information to Nehru (d.1964) and Nehru took it up with Mountbatten. General Gracey the Army Chief of Pakistan did not send troops to the Kashmir front and refused to obey the order given by Mohammad Ali Jinnah, Governor-General of Pakistan. Gracey argued that Jinnah as Governor-General represented the British Crown of which he himself was an appointee. It was the second time Pakistan missed the opportunity to take Kashmir following the ‘partition formula’. Ignoring the legitimate stand of Pakistan and MA Jinnah on Palestine Sir Zafrullah Khan (Qadiyani) was able to say publicly in Cairo ‘in February 1952 that Israel must be ‘regarded as a limb in the body of the Middle East’. He further urged Egypt to seek a peaceful solution to the conflict, in other words, to give up any thought, of liberating Arab and Palestinian lands and recognize the illegitimate occupation of Palestine. After the US-sponsored assassination of Prime minister Liaquat Ali Khan, Pakistan was led into one military alliance after another: a Mutual Defence Agreement’ with the US (May 1954), SEATO (September 1954), and Baghdad Pact (February 1955). After the overthrow of the Iraqi monarchy, Baghdad Pact was christened as CENTO (Central Treaty Organization). Although Pakistan had no security conflict in that region, ‘Zafrullah had put the country into South-East Asia Treaty Organization, without consulting or even telling the army. The commander-in-chief, ‘General Ayub Khan, said he was informed only after Pakistan had joined the alliance. The other character was M M Ahmad born in (1913-2002) was reputedly one of Pakistan’s most powerful bureaucrats. He belonged to the elite ICS (Indian Civil Service, later, (CSP or the Civil Service of Pakistan) and was a district officer in 1947, but by 1966, he had risen to head Ayub Khan’s powerful Planning Commission. He helped to shape the Country’s economic as well as defense and foreign policies. Ayub Khan also wished Arab states to join the Baghdad Pact and turn it into a `powerful Muslim forum’, but he understood why they were suspicious of the alliance. However, although he did have foreign ministers like Manzur Qadir (1959-62; d. 1972) and Syed Sharifuddin Pirzada (1966-68), both pro-western but also Pakistani, but key policy decision had also to be cleared with a Qadiyani bureaucrat M M Ahmad. Though only the head of Ayub Khan’s Planning Commission, he had come to exercise a veto over political decisions as well. Taken as someone with influence in the World Bank, he could shoot down anything by simply saying it may not go down well with Washington. According to Syed Sharifuddin Pirzada, French President de Gaulle had personally told Ayub Khan in 1967 that France was ready to provide `full’ nuclear assistance to Pakistan. In return, he simply asked that France be allowed to mine for uranium in the northwest and share it equally with Pakistan. `Our “friends” may not like it,’ M M Ahmad told Ayub, and in any case, what do we need this expensive technology for.’ Words to that effect. But that is how Pakistan missed the opportunity of becoming a nuclear power at least two decades earlier than it did – and minus all the blackmail and intimidation that knows no end. In an as yet unpublished interview, the eminent constitutional expert and authority on Quaid-e-Azam Jinnah (d.1948) and Pakistan movement, Sharifuddin Pirzada also, told Ahmed Irfan a London based journalist that as far back as October 1967, French President Charles de Gaulle (d.1970) had offered Pakistan ‘full’ nuclear assistance and know-how; the only thing he wanted, in turn, was to he (France) should be allowed to mine for uranium in Northwest Pakistan for a 50% share. In April 1965, Ayub Khan had also gone to Moscow. This was the first-ever visit by a Pakistani leader to the Soviet capital. Ayub Khan came back with the understanding that the visit `might prove a turning point in our relations and that there were tremendous possibilities of cooperation’. The Soviets had actually agreed to give military aid to Pakistan, but writing two years later Ayub Khan had to understate the achievement because the same Qadiyani bureaucrat too had vetoed this. This offer had been made by Brezhnev at a meeting set for recreation and shoot some clay pigeons outside Moscow, but with only Ayub Khan and Pirzada attending. Ayub Khan quit in March 1969 and MM Ahmed (Qadiyani) acquired yet more influence. He emerged as economic supremo of the new Chief Martial Law Administrator, General Yahya Khan (d.1980). After Yahva was forced out in December 1971, MM Ahmad continued as Zulfikar Ali Bhutto’s (d.1979) economic adviser. But a few months later, he went to Washington DC and joined the International Bank for Reconstruction and Development (the World Bank). There he rose to be the deputy executive secretary of the joint Development Committee in 1974. However, M M Ahmad’s imprint on Pakistan’s fiscal and development policies was to last forever. As Yahya Khan’s ‘finance minister’, he devalued the rupee by 131% percent. As one economist pointed out (Dawn, Karachi, 1st February 2002), ‘that was the start of the deficit finance, inflation and trade imbalance’ from which the country has not been able to free itself. In 1974 Bhutto amended the constitution to clarify the non-Muslim slants of (the Oadiyani creed to which M M Ahmad belonged; yet influence over the country’s bureaucratic and political elite remained unaffected. Many owed their position to his patronage and almost everyone wanted to benefit front his Washington connections’. In 1993, then army chief Abdul Waheed Kakar was looking for a caretaker prime minister to replace Nawaz Sharif. M M Ahmad is believed to have solved the ‘problem. The job went to Moeen Qureshi, who had recently retired as executive vice president of the World Bank; He was given a Pakistani `passport’ on arrival. MM Ahmad kept a low profile, but after October 1999 coup, he seemed to have become the regime’s `holy man’. He was the grandson of the Qadiyani `prophet’, Mirza Ghulam Ahmad Qadiyani, (d.1908) and son-in-law of the second Qadiyani `khalifa’, Mirza Bashiruddin Mahmud Ahmad (d.1965). Besides being an international bureaucrat, M M Ahmad was all active `missionary’ of his Qadiyani creed. After retiring from the World Bank in 1984 he formally became the `amir’ and missionary in charge’ of the group in the US with headquarters in Silver Spring, Maryland. While many power holders in Pakistan seemed proud of being `secular’, for MM Ahmad, it was his `religious’ vocation as a Qadiyani that really defined his relationship with Pakistan. The relationship was in conflict with the existence of Pakistan itself. According to a Qadiyani `prophecy’, revealed a few months before the independence of Pakistan, if at all India and Pakistan did separate, it would be `transient’ and the Qadiyanis were asked to try to bring an end to this phase soon. (Al Fzal, 4 April 1947 and 17 May 194’7) We hear of M M Ahmad in another CSP officer, Qudratullhah Shihab’s memoirs, Slihab Nama, (Sang-e-Meel, Lahore, 1991) that the 1965 war with ‘India was ‘a Qadiyani conspiracy’. It was planned by an able (Qadiyani officer, Major General Akhtar Hussain Malik’ and `backed by several powerful people, among them, at the lot of list was said to be Mr MM Ahmad’. Shihab checked this with the West Pakistan governor Nawab of Kalabagh (d.1967) and he concurred.’ That the Qadiyanis have their own particular agenda on Jammu and Kashmir is an open secret. Like the Oadiyani Nobel Laureate, Abdus Salam, M M Ahmad too was opposed to Pakistan becoming a nuclear power. In an as yet unpublished interview, the eminent constitutional expert and authority on Quaid-e-Azam Jinnah (d.1948) and Pakistan movement, Sharifuddin Pirzada, told Ahmed Irfan a London based journalist that as far back as October 1967, French President Charles de Gaulle (d.1970) had offered Pakistan ‘full’ nuclear assistance and know-how; the only thing he wanted, in turn, was to be allowed to mine for uranium in Northwest Pakistan for a 50% share. President Ayub Khan said he would reply after consulting with his officials back home in Pakistan. In the event, the offer was vetoed by M M Ahmad and the army chief Yahya Khan. They warned Ayub Khan that the US would not take it kindly. Pirzada was Ayub Khan’s foreign minister and is a personal witness to the affair. M M Ahmad is also believed to have been a key architect of the split between East and West Pakistan. ‘Planned’ for the economic disparity between the two wings and laid the grounds for an eventual conflict and break. Former cabinet secretary and author of The Separation of East Pakistan (OUP, Karachi, 1995) Hasan Zaheer (d.1998) quotes Brigadier, later Major General, M I Kareem telling him that Colonel Chaudhary, Staff Officer of Lt-General S G M M Peerzada (had) told him that he had read a top-secret paper of MM Ahmed, suggesting that it was time for the friendly separation of two Wings rather than elections and warning of serious consequences for the entire country otherwise’. Peerzada was Principal Staff Officer to President Yahya and Brig. M I Kareem his deputy. For M M Ahmad, however, helping to end the `transient’ was a duty ordained by his khalifa’. Born on 28 February 1913, in Qadiyan, Gurdaspur, M M Ahmad died on 23, Ju1y 2002, Washington DC and was buried, 30th July 2002, ‘in Baltishti Maqbrah’ in Ghenahnagar (formerly Ribwah), Pakistan. The purpose of narrating the history above is to give a background to the young researchers, writers, and journalists interested in Pakistan. It was not like that from the beginning. People were loyal, motivated, and sincere with Pakistan. They were true survivors and go-getters as nothing come in their way once they decided to do something. The current structural breakdown is linked with the corrupt and compromised elite and leadership without vision and strategy. The Americans will never hire someone like Nawaz Sharif, Asif Zardari, Altaf Hussain, or Pervez Musharraf as a manager of a small company but they don’t mind a ‘stupid’ running Pakistan. Sometimes we need ‘stupid’ like him said a US senator to a friend of mine and a Pakistani journalist in Washington.
This is a picture of our ugly bureaucracy. A poor politician corruption is nothing that BROADSHEET is claiming; Bureaucartes knows every penny of Pakistani money and where to move under their umbrella. In a recent example, Azerbhajan offered deferred payment oil, did our bureaucracy let allow it on sacrifices of their millions of dollars commission for the sake of Pakistan. But we have seen their inhumane bureaucracy act made an example without God's fear in the country where Pakistan's creation was based on Islam's Ideology. We all understand Karachi's situation during the 2000-2015 period and why this poor person was absent from his job because of fear of death due to Karachi's law and order concerns. In 2012, the Pakistani leadership sat down to sort out solutions for dealing with the menace of terrorism, and in 2013, political parties unanimously resolved on Monday 9, September 2013, at the All Parties Conference (APC), stating that negotiation with the militants should be pursued as their first option to counter-terrorism.
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