Hello everyone and welcome to 2021! As most readers are aware, we use a 20 Year Rule which rolls over every new year. Most years, the newly available topics are fairly mundane, but as we've been noting for some time, 2021 is different. Despite jokes to the contrary, we are not implementing the 21 Year Rule. We are, though, acutely aware of the interest surrounding the events of 9/11, and most especially the bad history and conspiracy theories that revolve around it.
In that light, we are opening up the year by addressing it head on. On behalf of the mods and flaired community, tlumacz and I have put together an overview of the events surrounding the attacks of 9/11, including the history of relevant people and organizations such as Osama Bin Laden and al-Qaeda. This isn't meant to be the exhaustive, final word or a complete history. Instead, we want to provide the AH community with insight into the history and address some common misconceptions and misunderstandings that surround September 11th, 2001. Additionally, as a META thread, we welcome further questions, and discussion — both on an historical and a personal level — of the history and events.
...
Osama bin Laden and the formation of al-Qaeda
To best contextualize the events of the day, we’re going to start with Osama bin Laden. His father, billionaire Mohammed bin Laden, was one of the richest men in Saudi Arabia. Mohammed made his wealth from a construction empire but died when Osama was only 10, leaving behind 56 children and a massive fortune. The prominence of the family name and wealth are two important factors for understanding Osama's rise to power.
The bin Ladens were generally Westernized and many members of the family frequently travelled or sought out education outside Saudi Arabia. Osama bin Laden, however, was upset at Saudi Arabia's close ties with the West and was more attracted to religious practices. The relationship between Saudi Arabia and the US was established in the 1940s when FDR signed a deal with King Abdul Aziz Ibn Saud, essentially giving the US primary access to oil in exchange for support and — essential to this history — defense from the US military.
Osama bin Laden went to college at King Abdulaziz University in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia in the late 70s. After graduating, he traveled to Afghanistan to help the freedom fighters — known as the mujahedeen — in their battle against the Soviets, who had invaded in 1979. Unlike some young men who joined the battles in Afghanistan and took a "summer camp" approach, spending a few months in training before going back to their home countries, Osama was a true believer. He stayed and committed to the fight. He used his leverage as a son of Mohammad bin Laden and his large yearly financial allowance to smooth over initial troubles integrating into the group. (Note: The United States, though the CIA, also were funding the Afghan freedom fighters against the Soviets. The funding didn’t end until 1992, long after Osama bin Laden had left -- the two were not affiliated.)
The group al-Qaeda intended as a more global organization than the mujahideen, was founded in 1988 in order to further Islamic causes, Osama played a role in funding and leading from its inception. The Soviets withdrew the year after, and Osama bin Laden returned to Saudi Arabia a hero, having helped bring down a superpower. Potentially rudderless, he was energized in the summer of 1990 when Iraq invaded Kuwait. This event kicked off what is known as the Gulf War. Given Kuwait was adjacent to Saudi Arabia, and the enduring close relationship between the kingdom and the US — hundreds of thousands of US troops were mobilized and housed in Saudi Arabia, with Saudi Arabia footing most of the bill.
Osama bin Laden tried to pitch the fighters trained up from their years in Afghanistan as being up to the task of defending Kuwait as opposed to calling in the Americans, but his plea was rejected by the Saudi government (Note: to be fair, it is unlikely his force was large enough to handle the Iraqi military, the fourth largest military in the world at the time). This rejection, combined with the fact the US lingered for several years after the Gulf War ended, diverting resources from the Saudi Arabian people directly to the Americans, made an impression on Osama.
He vocally expressed disgust, and given that the Saudi Royal Family did not tolerate dissent, soon left the country for Sudan (which had just had an Islamist coup) in 1991. Even from another country, Osama kept up his public disdain for Saudi Arabia; family members pleaded with him to stop, but he didn’t and eventually, he was kicked out for good: his citizenship was revoked.
Meanwhile, he kept close contact with various terrorist groups — Sudan was a hub — and used the wealth he still possessed to build farming and construction businesses.
His public resentment for the United States continued, and as he was clearly a power player, the CIA successfully pressured the leadership of Sudan into kicking Osama bin Laden out in 1997; his assets were confiscated and he started anew in Afghanistan, finding safe shelter with the ruling Taliban, a political movement and military force. The Taliban had essentially taken control of the country by 1996, although the civil war was still ongoing. Almost immediately after he arrived, bin Laden made a "declaration of war" against the US. He later explained:

We declare jihad against the United States because the US Government is an unjust, criminal, and abusive government.

He objected to the US occupying Islam’s holy places (which included the Gulf War occupation), and had specific grievance with the US's continued support of Israel and the Saudi royals. For him, it was clearly not just a religious matter, but also personal and political.
Earlier that same year, the CIA established a special unit, based in Tysons Corner, Virginia, specifically for tracking Osama bin Laden They searched for a reason to bring charges, and finally had a break when Jamal Ahmed al-Fadl (code named "Junior"), one of the first to give allegiance to Osama, approached the Americans. He had stolen $100,000 from Osama and needed protection. In return, he offered details about organizational charts and most importantly, a way to connect Osama to the Black Hawk Down incident in Mogadishu in 1993. The CIA was working to gather enough evidence such that if the opportunity presented itself, he could be taken into custody for conspiring to attack the United States.
Meanwhile, the CIA worked to raise alarms among the military and intelligence communities. When George W. Bush won the presidency in 2000 and first met Clinton at the White House, Clinton said

I think you will find that by far your biggest threat is bin Laden and the al-Qaeda.

Some of the events that led to that assessment included the 1996 al-Qaeda-led attempted assassination plot on US President Bill Clinton while he was in Manila. (The Secret Service were alerted and agents found a bomb under a bridge). In 1998, al-Qaeda orchestrated attacks on US embassies in Africa that led to the deaths of hundreds. Then in 2000, they were responsible for the bombing of the USS Cole (suicide bombers in a small boat went alongside the destroyer, killing 17 crew members).
By the time the warning about Al-Qaeda was shared with Bush, plans for what would later become known as 9/11 were well underway. The plan was put into motion when, in the summer of 2000, a number of Al-Qaeda members took up flight training in the United States. Final decisions, including target selection, were probably made in July 2001, when the terrorists’ field commander, Mohamed Atta, traveled to Spain for a meeting with his friend and now coordinator: Ramzi bin al-Shibh. The nineteen hijackers were divided into four groups, each with a certified pilot who would be able to guide the airliners into their targets plus three or four enforcers whose job it was to ensure that the terrorist pilot was able to successfully carry out his task. The hijacking itself was easy enough. The terrorists used utility knives and pepper spray to subdue the flight attendants and passengers.
Before we go into the specifics of what happened on September 11, 2001, we want to address the idea of a “20th hijacker.” Tactically, it makes sense to have equal teams of 5 men. While the identity of the would-be 20th hijacker has never been confirmed (nor has the reason for his dropping out of the operation been established), circumstances indicate he did exist and numerous hypotheses as to who the man was have been proposed. (The most prominent — Zacarias Moussaoui, who was convicted in federal court of conspiracy to commit terrorism — later said he was supposed to be involved in a different terrorist attack, after September 11th.)
September 11, 2001
Early in the morning of 9/11 four airliners took off from airports in the US East Coast: two Boeing 757s and two Boeing 767s, two of American Airlines and two of United Airlines. All four planes were scheduled to fly to California, on the US West Coast, which meant they carried a large fuel load. The hijackers knew that once they redirected to their targets, they would still have most of that fuel. The two planes that struck the WTC towers had been in the air for less than an hour.
American Airlines Flight 11 hit the North Tower and United Airlines Flight 175 hit the South Tower of the World Trade Center, in New York City. Both impacts damaged the utility shaft systems and jet fuel spilled down elevator shafts and ignited, crashing elevators and causing large fires in the lobbies of the buildings. Both buildings collapsed less than two hours later. The National Institute of Standards and Technology (NIST), tasked by the US Congress with investigating the cause of the buildings’ collapse, reported portions of the buildings reached 1000 degrees centigrade. (Note: Not only was jet fuel burning, so were desks, curtains, furniture, and other items within the WTC While some like to point out this is under the "melting point" of steel [1510 centigrade], this detail is absolutely irrelevant: the steel did not liquify. Consider the work of a blacksmith; they do not need to melt steel in order to bend it into shape. Steel starts to weaken at around 600 centigrade, and 1000 centigrade is sufficient to cause steel to lose 90% strength, so there was enough warping for both buildings to entirely lose their integrity.)
A third, nearby tower was damaged by debris from the collapse of the other towers, causing large fires that compromised the building’s structural integrity. Internally, "Column 79" buckled, followed by Columns 80 and 81, leading to a progressive structural collapse where, as the NIST report puts it, "The exterior façade on the east quarter of the building was just a hollow shell." This led to the core collapsing, followed by the exterior. (Note: There is a conspiracy theory related to a conversation the real estate developer Larry Silverstein, and owner of the building, had with the fire department commander. He was heard saying, "We've had such a terrible loss of life, maybe the smartest thing to do is pull it." However, this is common firefighter terminology and simply refers to pulling out firefighters from a dangerous environment.)
At 9:37 AM, the terrorist piloting American Airlines Flight 77 struck the Pentagon. The plane first hit the ground, causing one wing to disintegrate and the other to shear off. The body of the plane then hit the first floor, leaving a hole 75 feet wide. Things could have been much worse: the portion of the Pentagon hit was undergoing renovation so had a quarter of the normal number of employees; additionally, while 26 of the columns holding up the second floor were destroyed, it took half an hour before the floor above collapsed. This meant all of the people on the 2nd through 5th floors were able to safely escape. Meanwhile, the Pentagon itself is mostly concrete as it was built during WWII, while steel was being rationed. The steel that was used turned out to be placed in fortuitously beneficial ways. The pillars had been reinforced with steel in a spiral design (as opposed to hoops) and the concrete pillars were reinforced with overlapping steel beams.
Note: There is a conspiracy theory that the Pentagon was struck by a missile rather than a plane. This is absurd for numerous reasons, one being the hundreds who saw the plane as it approached the Pentagon (some observers even recognized the plane’s livery as belonging to American Airlines.) Second, nearly all the passengers from the flight were later identified by DNA testing. Third, one of the first responders, a structural engineer, said

I saw the marks of the plane wing on the face of the stone on one side of the building. I picked up parts of the plane with the airline markings on them. I held in my hand the tail section of the plane, and I stood on a pile of debris that we later discovered contained the black box.… I held parts of uniforms from crew members in my hands, including body parts. Okay?

The fourth plane, United Airlines Flight 93, crashed into a field in rural Pennsylvania. The passengers on the plane were able to overwhelm the enforcers and break into the cockpit. The crash caused no structural damage, and took no lives, on the ground.
We now need to rewind to what was happening immediately following the hijacking of the four planes. Controversy surrounds the immediate response of the US military to the attacks, with questions about why the airliners were not shot down (or, conversely, could they have legally been shot down.) In the end, the military response was stifled by communications chaos and the fact that by and large the terrorists did not leave enough time for a comprehensive reaction. The first fighters, F-15C Eagles from Otis Air National Guard Base in Massachusetts, were scrambled after the first tower had already been hit. By the time Lieutenant Colonel Timothy Duffy and Major Daniel Nash reached New York, the other WTC tower had been struck. Nash would later recall:

I remember shortly after takeoff you could see the smoke because it was so clear: the smoke from the towers burning. . . . And then we were about 70 miles out when they said, ‘a second aircraft has hit the World Trade Center.’

An additional three fighters took to the air from Langley AFB in Virginia, at 0930. With just seven minutes left before American 77 would hit the Pentagon, the Langley jets would have been hard pressed to make it in time to see the impact, let alone to prevent it. In the end, it made no difference that in the initial confusion, they first flew away from DC. Finally, two F-16s, those of Lieutenant Colonel Marc H. Sasseville and Lieutenant Heather Penney, took off from Andrews Air Force Base at 1042. Their task was to intercept and destroy any hijacked airliner that might attempt to enter DC airspace. The rapidity of the order, however, meant that the F-16s were sent out unarmed. As a result, both pilots were acutely aware that their orders were, essentially, to commit suicide. They would have had to ram the incoming B757, with Sasseville ordering Penney to strike the tail while he would strike the nose. The chances of a successful ejection would have been minuscule.
Note: modern airliners are very good at staying in the air even when not fully functional and are designed with a potential engine failure in mind. As a result, any plan hinging on “just damage and disable one of the engines” (for example, by striking it with the vertical stabilizer) carried unacceptable risk of failure: the fighter jet would have been destroyed either way, but while the pilot would have a better chance of surviving, Flight 93 could have continued on its way. Therefore, ramming the fuselage was the only method of attack which would have given a near-certainty of the B757 being stopped there and then.
Further reports and inquiries, including the 9/11 Commission, revealed a stupefying degree of chaos and cover-ups at the higher levels of command on the day of the attacks. While “fog of war” was certainly a factor, and the FAA’s failure to communicate with NORAD exacerbated the chaos, the timeline of events later published by NORAD contradicted established facts and existing records and became a paramount example of a government agency trying to avoid blame for their errors throughout the sequence of events described here. Members of the 9/11 Commission identified these contradictions and falsehoods as a leading cause of conspiracy theories regarding the attacks.
What happened after
The aftermath, which is beyond the scope of this post, was global. Sympathy and unity came from nearly all corners of the world; a response of force was authorized by the US on September 18, 2001:

That the President is authorized to use all necessary and appropriate force against those nations, organizations, or persons he determines planned, authorized, committed, or aided the terrorist attacks that occurred on September 11, 2001, or harbored such organizations or persons, in order to prevent any future acts of international terrorism against the United States by such nations, organizations or persons.

The joint US-British effort to eliminate the Taliban began on October 7, with France, Germany, Australia, and Canada also pledging support. Ground forces arrived in Afghanistan 12 days later, but most of the fighting happened between the Taliban and the Afghan rebels, who had been fighting against the Taliban all this time. The international support led to a quick sweep over Taliban strongholds in November: Taloqan, Bamiyan, Herat, Kabul, Jalalabad. The Taliban collapsed entirely and surrendered Kandahar on December 9th.
In December 2001, Osama bin Laden was tracked to caves southeast of Kabul, followed by an extensive firefight against the al-Qaeda led by Afghan forces. He escaped on December 16, effectively ending the events of 2001.

We have entered the third millennium through a gate of fire. If today, after the horror of 11 September, we see better, and we see further — we will realize that humanity is indivisible. New threats make no distinction between races, nations or regions. A new insecurity has entered every mind, regardless of wealth or status. A deeper awareness of the bonds that bind us all — in pain as in prosperity — has gripped young and old.
-- Kofi Annan, seventh Secretary-General of the United Nations, in his December 2001 Nobel Lecture

....
Below are some selected references; flairs are also in the process of a larger revamp of the booklist which will roll out soon.
Coll, S. (2005). Ghost Wars: The Secret History of the CIA, Afghanistan and Bin Laden. United Kingdom: Penguin Books Limited.
Kean, T., & Hamilton, L. (2004). The 9/11 Commission Report: Final Report of the National Commission on Terrorist Attacks Upon the United States. Government Printing Office.
McDermott, T. (2005). Perfect Soldiers: The Hijackers: Who They Were. Why They Did It. HarperCollins.
Mlakar, P. E., Dusenberry, D. O., Harris, J. R., Haynes, G., Phan, L. T., & Sozen, M. A. (2003). The Pentagon Building Performance Report. American Society of Civil Engineers.
Tawil, C., Bray, R. (2011). Brothers In Arms: The Story of Al-Qa'ida and the Arab Jihadists. Saqi.
Thompson, K. D. (2011). Final Reports from the NIST World Trade Center Disaster Investigation.
Wright, L. (2006). The Looming Tower: Al-Qaeda and the Road to 9/11. Knopf.

Cyberpunk best settings guide to go beyond 60 fps for AMD and Mid-range users

Here is the complete version of this graphics guide:

run-cyberpunk-at-60-fps-on-amd-hardware-a-comprehensive-look-into-cyberpunk-2077s-graphics-settings-and-why-they-matte

GUIDE PROPER

This Reddit post is just a snippet of a more verbose and in-depth analysis on Cyberpunk's graphics settings. If you want the detailed version with more boring words and images, just clink the link above. If you're tired of clicking, then settle down here.
This guide is intended for people who have mid-range GPUs, specifically AMD, that doesn't have DLSS. But this guide can also be enjoyed by other low-end and high-end users from either camp, provided RTX-specific effects are out of the equation. In here, we will be finding the perfect balance between consistent, playable performance at 60 plus fps, and perceivable quality. The reason I say perceivable is because we tend to attach quality to the text that describes a specific setting: like "very high" or "ultra". But we should be focusing on how the game looks according to our naked eye, not according to how the menu says it looks.
More importantly, this guide will help you explain WHY these graphics options matter and which of these should you focus on more than others. Because I know you're not just toggling graphics settings simply to get good-looking visuals and for arbitrary frame-rate numbers to go up; you also want peace of mind. You struggle with fiddling around with the graphics options, playing a bit of the game, and still having that gnawing itch at the back of your mind, doubting whether or not you've made the "best" settings combinations for the "best" immersive experience. You're desperate to settle this introspective tug-of-war once and for all so you can finally move on and actually play the game.
I am that person. And this is exactly why I made this guide.
My current hardware is:

GPU: Sapphire 5700xt nitro plus
CPU: 5600x Ryzen CPU
RAM: Crucial Ballistix 3600mhzcl16 of RAM.
SSD: Adata XPG SX8200 Pro

A lot of you may be wondering, this setup is ONLY mid-range? Well I am basing my definition of mid-range on my GPU. The 5700XT nowadays is nowhere near the top of the card hierarchy compared to last year. And ultimately, it's the GPU that determines the overall mileage of your game performance.
This was recorded using AMD's Radeon Software. And because I'm AMD, there will be no RTX settings to be discussed. Currently, the game is patched to 1.04.
Before going into our benchmarks, it is important to distinguish what constitutes normal gameplay from specific scripted events. Focusing too much on on-rail sections for their low performance numbers may just be a futile effort since these moments are one-time events that are rarely repeatable in regular gameplay. Lastly, graphics settings do not impact all scenes with the same level of intensity. Some settings are greatly significant indoors, some during outdoors, and some during close-up conversations.
If you like a supplemental video and see the same optimization guide in action form, the settings video guide is right here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vtl73Gv-5IQ&t=32s

BENCHMARK POINT

Before we proceed with the optimization, let us first establish a reference point for our guide. For this I decided to use all max setting at 1440p and picked an intensive location at night as our benchmark point by which we would be able to compare our optimized settings later on. Because I have already used up the 20 image limit on this page, I will just be giving you the facts now. You will still be able to see the BEFORE OPTIMIZATION image in the results at the very bottom.
Our current FPS is at 30 FPS. We will be targeting 60 and beyond without too much sacrifice on visual quality. Now let's proceed with the different settings.

HUGE DISCLAIMER!

My results may hugely vary with yours. Remember that even though I have a mid-range card, I still have 3600mhz CL16 RAM and a 5600x CPU. Settings that may be CPU-intensive for others may be non-existent in performance gains for me. Also remember that not all FPS differences between settings are the same for all hardware configurations. The differences between medium and high on my machine maybe 5 FPS, but for others it may be 10 FPS. So please keep that in mind. I will also be notifying you of which resource they are utilizing as we go through each of them

SETTINGS WITH NO PERFORMANCE IMPACT

Basic Section
Everything in the basic section where motion blur and other post processing effects can be found. Just adjust them according to you preference.

Advanced Section

Contact shadows: GPU-related
Improved facial geometry: I have no idea
Local shadow mesh quality: Can be CPU-related
Cascaded shadow range: CPU-related
Distant shadow resolution: Can be both CPU and GPU-related
Max dynamic decals: Both CPU and GPU-related
Subsurface scattering quality: GPU-related
Level of Detail: CPU-related

All the above I can turn to high or on without significant performance impact. When looking at graphics setting in-game, the two "local" prefixed shadow settings affect shadows cast by light sources and the next two, the one prefixed by "cascaded" - affect shadows cast by the sun. Note that the shadow settings we have just both set to high relate to both indoors and outdoors. But they simply refer to the range by which they're being drawn and the consistency against relative light sources. These do not affect the resolution of the shadows themselves. Hence, they have a non-existent effect in performance.
Subsurface Scattering
Also important to take note is how subsurface scattering affects how light bounces off the skin. It's very fortunate that it has minimal impact to frame rate while reducing shadow graininess and improving light dispersion on character's skin especially when being hit by light. Just set this to high and worry no more.

A NOTE ON CPU-BOUND SETTINGS

Remember the settings above that are CPU-related? I have read replies on this post that some of those settings resulted in frame-rate loss when toggling them on high or on.
These are:

Cascaded shadow range: CPU-related
Distant shadow resolution: Can be both CPU and GPU-related
Max dynamic decals: Both CPU and GPU-related
Level of Detail: CPU-related
Crowd Density: CPU-related

Please be aware that these settings will matter depending on your CPU's single-core performance. The reason I am NOT having problems with these settings is because the 5600x has truly remarkable single-core performance.
^{See 5600x's impressive single-core performance results on CPU-intensive games here:} ^{https://www.reddit.com/Amd/comments/jxslr1/using\}ryzen_5600x_with_only_2400mhz_ram_on/)^{https://www.reddit.com/Amd/comments/jxijtm/i\}am_shocked_5600x_runs_the_original_2007_crysis/)
For now, we will be looking into these GPU-bound settings first for two reasons:

GPU-bound settings should be given topmost priority since it is the hardest hitter to game performance
CPU-bottleneck issues are hard to spot without determining first where your frame rate drops are coming from. Is it because of a CPU or a GPU bottleneck?

This testing order will then allow us to identify whether or not CPU bottleneck still exists afterwards.

SETTINGS WITH SUBSTANTIAL PERFORMANCE IMPACT

Now that we've ruled them out, we will be looking at the settings that are noticeable both visually and performance-wise. First up we have the other two shadow settings. While previously the shadow settings we've adjusted relate to the consistency and range by which they're drawn, now we're changing their resolution. This is why they're significant in GPU performance.

Local Shadow Quality

Local Shadow Quality High
Local Shadow Quality Medium
Local shadow quality can increase fps but remove interior and artificial light shadows. For this I recommend medium or high shadows. This setting is also relevant at night since cascaded shadows are replaced by local shadows due to the sun being absent and artificial lights take its place. If your frame rate drops below 60 during interiors and night scenes, try setting local shadow quality down to medium. I personally use high for this one. Take note that this also affects character shadows being projected by artificial lights - including yourself.

Cascaded Shadows Resolution

Next we have cascaded shadow resolution which affects the resolution of shadows cast by the sun. For this I recommend turning down to Medium just to gain 3 to 4 fps during outdoor scenes while still maintaining a smooth, soft-edged shadow quality. Just don't go low since it looks pixelaty bad.

Volumetric Fog Resolution

Next, we move on to volumetric fog resolution which I think is one of the sneakiest hitter settings since it is not noticeable visually but performance-wise it's a hog. This affects both indoor and outdoors scenes as well.
Volumetric Lighting Medium
Volumetric Lighting High
Volumetric Lighting Ultra
In here, we could see the biggest performance gain is going down to medium from high. Note that all settings contain dithering fog in some way - even on ultra. This is more noticeable when you're moving. There's just a slightly less pixelation inside the volumetric fog itself on ultra compared to medium but this is a highly recommended medium for me. If the dithering and "crawling" fog effect bothers you, then go ahead and go higher. Just don't blame me if your frame rate drops under 60 since it will affect performance even during the day. That's why I recommend medium. Let's move on.

Volumetric Cloud Quality

Cloud quality is exactly what it says. Toggles the volume of clouds, turning this off removes clouds in the sky while gradually increasing setting adds more volume to it. I just recommend any setting since it has close to zero performance impact. Maybe one or two fps when outdoors, but not enough to really warrant your attention. You can even turn this off if you want since probably you would be playing the game looking forward - not looking up into the sky.

Screen Space Reflections

Next up we have screen space reflections. This is the biggest hitter to performance when toggled all the way up.
SSR: Off
SSR: Low
SSR: Medium
SSR: High
SSR: Ultra
SSR: Pyscho
Note that choosing the off setting will toggle baked in reflections instead which look very bad and laughable. Trust me, this looks even worse in motion. Also turning SSR off removes reflections from wet roads and specular surfaces. Going from low to Pyscho increases the range of objects that is being reflected by a particular surface with Pyscho just brutally murdering your framerate.
There's also some sort of temporal noise around objects that gets more noticeable when going down to low from Pyscho. It has that grainy look to some reflective surfaces. For this I simply recommend medium since it strikes the perfect balance of having that reflective quality with minimal noise and a healthy performance increase. You can go high on this one if you have the frame rate budget, but considering the next step ultra is very similar to high performance-wise, you can just go up there instead. It all depends on what matters most to you. Turning this off should be your last resort since it removes reflective properties entirely and impacts the aesthetic of the game especially during the night. Some people, especially on this guide's reddit post, prefer it off to avoid the "visual noise". But those baked-in cube-mapped reflections just look so bad I'm unable to notice the noise in hindsight.

Ambient Occlusion

For ambient occlusion, I recommend medium. High may indeed add more depth shadows under more objects, but this is so unnoticeable compared to the number of frames it reduces.
AO: Off
AO: Medium
AO: High

Color Precision

Next is my personal favorite - Color precision. This guy is probably the sneakiest bastard on here. Not only does it sound unimportant and trivial, finding the difference between it on and off is next to impossible. However, this option can actually determine whether you can reach 60 or not. And unlike other settings that matter only on scenes that call upon them, color precision is constantly taking effect and so will reduce your frame rate at all times. Take a look at this certain spot in the game. This is one of the most demanding scenes that I've been and it all comes down to color precision to be set to medium for our frame rate to go beyond 60 fps.

Color Precision: Medium
Color Precision: High
Look at the difference in performance that it brings. But can you see the difference visually? Zoom in on these pictures if you can find Wal--I mean any difference. Looking closely on still shots, there's maybe a hint of blurriness to the medium setting compared to high but how will anyone notice this during normal gameplay is beyond me. Colors are still exactly the same without no dithering whatsoever so it's still a mystery to me what it really does.

Mirror Quality

Finally, we have mirror quality. This obviously affects scenes where mirrors are rendering your reflection. The very start of this game makes this setting known and probably made the worst impression ever if you had this setting turned to high before starting the game. For my end, I find the medium setting to have the perfect balance of reflective resolution and performance. It's not a perfect 60 during mirror scenes even on low, but medium is a perfect-trade-off for me and these are limited gameplay moments that don't require frame-rates to be over 60 for an enjoyable experience.

Static FidelityFX CAS

Going down to the very bottom we can specify a static internal resolution. This is my final cherry on top. Since I'm on 1440p, going down to 75 percent would lead me back to 1080p, so I'd want to avoid it. Hence I will be finding the sweet spot between 75 percent and 100 percent which would give me constant 60 fps on regular gameplay. The percentage that works for me is 85 percent.

UPDATE: Dynamic FidelityFX CAS Works Now

This option is now functioning correctly in 1.04. If you find Static FidelityFX to be too restrictive, this is the best option. What I advise you to do is:

Load your own benchmark save point that reports lowest FPS you can get because of GPU bottleneck. The reason for this is for us to be able to set the gold standard by which every other section in your game would be guaranteed 60 fps and above.
Find your own optimized graphics settings using this guide as - your guide. Don't ever move in that loaded save point for accurate results.
Use Static FidelityFX to find the perfect resolution percentage which gets you just above 60 fps. Maybe give 1 or 2 frames above it for allowance.
Turn off Static FidelityFX and set the same percentage value above to the minimum resolution target of Dynamic FidelityFX.
Set Maximum resolution target to 100.
Set your own target framerate lock to the threshold by which you would like the game to drop resolution. It can be at 60 sharp, or it can be anything above it.

As a freesync monitor user, I prefer my framerate to be prioritized first before resolution so I set my target framerate at 68 and minimum resolution at 85. That way, the game will try to render at native resolution but will drop to 85 percent of my resolution when it gets below 68. Simple as that.

USE TRIXX BOOST INSTEAD OF STATIC FIDELITYFX

If you have the 5700xt from Sapphire, use the TriXX boost software to enable the 85 percent of your native resolution instead of using AMD's FidelityFX. This allows you to select an arbitrary resolution that's 85 percent of your native resolution rather than having the game constantly downsample native 1440p down to 85 percent and upscale it back to your native screen as you play along. This is more CPU-friendly and I can confirm - a frame higher than the same 85 percent of Static FidelityFX. However, there is slight noise and aliasing when using arbitrary resolutions such as these. Use at your own discretion.

OPTIMIZED SETTINGS SUMMARY:

So far, this is what we've done.
1.) Turn ALL toggable settings On and ALL slider settings to High
2.) Turn to Medium ONLY these settings:

Cascaded Shadows Resolution
Volumetric Fog Resolution
Screen Space Reflections Quality
Ambient Occlusion
Color Precision
Mirror Quality
Optional: Local Shadow Quality, Volumetric Cloud Quality

3.) If you are not Sapphire GPU owners: Use 80 to 95 percent resolution slider at the very bottom. If you have Sapphire GPUs, use TriXX software to enable 85 percent resolution for your chosen native resolution and select it in-game instead of the the AMD FidelityFX slider.

YOU FORGOT ABOUT CPU-BOUND SETTINGS

No I didn't. In fact, this is the perfect time for that. Now that we've made the necessary changes to alleviate possible GPU bottlenecks through our settings above, it's time to evaluate your current performance. Answer these two questions:

Are you still having framerate drops below 60 fps?
What is your GPU usage percentage?

Here are my next recommendations based on your answer conditions:

If you are NOT dropping below 60 fps and GPU usage is at 99 percent: you are GPU-bound and have met the main objective of this guide. This is the ideal scenario we want to be in. Congratulations.

If you are dropping below 60 fps and GPU usage is at 99 percent: you are still GPU-bound and our settings are not enough to reach 60 fps. Consider dropping down ONLY the settings I've specified in STEP 2 of our OPTIMIZED SETTINGS SUMMARY. You may fiddle with other settings but these will be more apt for the next two conditions.

If you are dropping below 60 fps and GPU usage is BELOW 99 to 95 percent: You are now being CPU-bottlenecked. Consider adjusting these options only:

Cascaded Shadow Range
Distant shadow resolution
Max dynamic decals
Level of Detail
Crowd Density (Only choose low if you're speedrunning the game)

If you're NOT dropping below 60 fps and GPU usage is also BELOW 99 to 95 percent: You are CPU-bottlenecked but not in a bad way. You just have a good GPU, go flex it if you want. Maybe you're in the middle of a CPU upgrade transition. Still, if you want more FPS, consider adjusting the same options above if it makes any changes:

Cascaded Shadow Range
Distant shadow resolution
Max dynamic decals
Level of Detail
Crowd Density (Only choose low if you're speedrunning the game)

FINALLY: THOSE CPU-BOUND USERS SHOULD DO THE NEXT STEP BELOW

THE INFAMOUS HEX EDIT OF THE GAME'S EXE

This reportedly improves utilization of CPU threads for AMD users. You can find lots of tutorials around the net for this one so I'm not going into detail on this. However, before you apply this fix, take note of where you fps drops are coming from. Are they GPU or CPU bottlenecks? If your frame rate drops while GPU usage is also dropping and you're using a Ryzen CPU, then this fix might be for you.
But if your frame rate drops while your GPU usage is at 99 percent or around that, then the benefit gains you may be getting would be smaller than you expect. This fix will be primarily ironing out the 0.1 percent lows of your playthroughs rather than your FPS average IF you are GPU-bound. If you're trying this out because you wanted to increase FPS at 1440p, your gains may be very small. I recommend this to people with 1080p screens and are experiencing CPU bottlenecks during their sessions. It wouldn't hurt to apply this regardless though, especially for AMD users. Just don't expect mind-blowing results if you're already GPU-bound.

Memory Pool Budget Adjustment (Possible placebo for me)

I've seen this all around the Net and while I can't definitely speak in behalf of those who benefited from it, I think this is just placebo. Benchmarks I've seen that provide "evidence" for this fix are simply within the margin of error to be called anything substantial. However, this could be of huge help to those who are memory limited - both VRAM and system RAM. This is just simple to do:

Simply go to "..\Cyberpunk2077\engine\config" and open memory_pool_budgets.csv . Simple notepad will be able to open this file.
Find the PoolCPU and PoolGPU rows and change the values inside the PC Column to 0. Some are setting calculated static values for these but I would strongly advise against it.

What does this mean? Well, it turns out memory allocations for the PC version are set exactly the same as our last-gen console brethren. Xbox and Sony machines are just beside PC and are named Durango and Orbis respectively. What we've done is unshackle restrictive memory allocations for our version and set them dynamically. I am not an expert on this one that's why I can't recommend this as something important and mandatory. But you could still try this out and report back its validity.

RESULTS TIME! drum rolls

Now let's compare my chosen benchmark points before and after our optimized settings. Remember what we discussed at the very start? I was reporting 30 FPS on all Max settings at 1440p.

Maxed out settings at 1440p
Optimized Settings at 1440p
Let's also not forget some closeup scenes in this game since these are also graphically intensive as the open world sections. I've chosen this Streetkid intro section as this is one of those discouraging performance moments I've experienced. (Makes you feel bad about your GPU)
Maxed Out settings at 1440p
Optimized Settings at 1440p
Look at how drastic our performance has become. Is maxed out settings any different from our optimized settings? Maybe, if you squint too hard on your screen. You be the judge. For me, the image quality still looks similar for the most part but it's in the performance that the difference is huge.

MY OTHER ALTERNATIVES FOR CONSISTENT PERFORMANCE

What if you're still unable to reach 60 fps after this guide? Well, here are my recommendations for a next-gen cyberpunk experience with high graphical fidelity and consistent performance:

Make a compromise to the 60 fps standard and lock your game to 30 fps but ramp up your settings to ultra. This results in consistent frametimes albeit in a lower framerate but you're getting the best fidelity.
Lower ONLY the settings that I specified to be on medium to low. Do not change those settings that are already on High since they will give you nothing. Maybe they will if you're on very low-end hardware, but for me, you should not be playing the game on lower-end hardware since you're just gimping the experience both visually and performance-wise. Wait till you get better hardware for the game experience to be given its due justice. This is not a jab at you or some sort of snarky remark, just a friendly advise.
Double down on that rendering resolution slider and decrease it until you reach 60 fps. Be prepared for blurry town but that's your choice.
You can also try "downgrading" to a smaller 22-inch IPS monitor with 1080p native resolution to get a high pixel density while gaining huge performance. My advise would be to never go beyond 22-inches 1080p for the PPI (Pixel Per Inch) value to not drop below 100.
If all still fails, well maybe it's just the time for you to get a better hardware if you cannot wait for future patches to fix the game.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________
TLDR:
If you're using mid-range GPU along the lines of 5700XT or 5700, with a decent 6-core Ryzen CPU, do these steps:
1.) If you are GPU-bound: Turn ALL toggable settings to On and slider settings to High
If you are CPU-bound, instead go to step 3
2.) If you are GPU-bound: Turn to Medium ONLY these settings:

Cascaded Shadows Resolution
Volumetric Fog Resolution
Screen Space Reflections Quality
Ambient Occlusion
Color Precision
Mirror Quality
Optional: Local Shadow Quality, Volumetric Cloud Quality

3.) If you are CPU-bound, apply the hex edit fix and adjust these settings ONLY:

Cascaded shadow range
Distant shadow resolution
Max dynamic decals
Level of Detail
Crowd Density

4.) If you are not Sapphire GPU owners: Use 80 to 95 percent resolution slider at the very bottom. If you have Sapphire GPUs, use TriXX software to enable 85 percent resolution for your chosen native resolution and select it in-game instead of the the AMD FidelityFX slider.
That's all for me, I hope this helps a lot especially those mid range users out there who think they need to grab a 3080 or 3090 just for this game. Be aware that current pricing for these cards are waaay beyond the MSRP. Please comment down below if I missed or misinterpreted anything. I am not a graphics expert of any kind; just some nerd who like to dig deep into the details of stuff.
Did my guide help you in any way?
I will be trying my best to respond to each and every comment coming from you.
Thank you again and stay safe!

SAD UPDATE:

After giving the game hours of chances for its fundamental design quirks to grow on me, I've decided to stop playing this game. This is not the proper state that this game should be played in. I'm not talking about the performance since this is fixable as what the guide below will show; it's not even the bugs, the graphical glitches, or the collision issues. These are all treatable by future patches.
But it's the actual game design itself that's currently incomplete and disjointed. Dialogue choices don't matter and it's insulting to include conversation options when there aren't even substantial consequences to be had in a game that's supposed to be an RPG and inspired by a tabletop RPG.
The AI is atrocious. NPCs behave like they were coded by high school students learning their first coding lesson. Their routines, if you can even call them that, are so basic and superficial that AI pedestrian traffic simply stop working at checkpoints and never move anymore. For me, the basic standard that should always be used as a template for open world design is Grand Theft Auto V, a game that came out more than seven years ago in an aging PS3 in its final generational year. To not at least match the very basic AI rulesets of that seven-year old game in 2020 is simply unacceptable.
The world, despite being one of the most beautiful and graphically advanced game worlds ever rendered in current hardware, is jarringly empty and lifeless with no potential for emergent gameplay. NPCs simply either walk around, play out canned animations, or engage in combat with other NPCs because it's a scripted event.
Speaking of comabt, the hand to hand combat is severely lacking as well. It's floaty, non-impactful, and imprecise. The lack of convincing damage animations during fist to fist combat doesn't help its case as well.
It's such a shame because there is a good game hidden underneath its problems. The lore that they've established here could be one of the richest and most compelling video game lores IMO. The fact that I stayed inside an elevator for minutes just to finish an in-game debate show is a testament to the potential of its writing to tackle relevant real-world issues and present them in this hyper-corporate, mechanized interpretation of the future. The soundtrack is awesome as well with surprising variety of music genres. Shooting is quite responsive as well and way more playable as a shooter game than the Fallout series. But it then falls apart when the AI freaks out and does stupid things like run around in circles and freeze in place while turning their backs to you.
It's heartbreaking to see a game developed with blood and tears come out in this state. That's why I won't progress through the game and consume its hard-earned content in an experience that feels more like a quality assurance session than a genuine cyberpunk adventure.
I've already requested my refund of the game and I also encourage others who are suffering with all the bugs and glitches to do the same. If you're one of tough-willed ones who can tolerate these issues and are unfazed by the incompleteness of its systems then go ahead enjoy the game. I'm happy for you.

Since 2005 the bodies of several homeless man have been found murdered in brutal ways. Several theories have arisen such as a serial killer, A gang of youths and even occultist murders

Why I think Elon Musk is Secretly Creating a "Save The Planet" Fund with Dogecoin.

The hierarchy of desire

So what you are saying, basically, is you got rich because Bendolzians will have sex with each other more easily than humans will sex with each other?
Yes.
But what does THAT have to do with accusations of defrauding an entire species for billions?
I didn’t do that. Ever.
But everyone accused you off it?
I made my money legally. Those charges were dropped.
So why did you have 384 separate arrest warrants out on you at one time?
Jealousy.
Jealousy? You were accused of massive intergalactic fraud and theft by 83 separate nations, out of jealousy?
Yes Mr Robert.
That’s a big statement.
I can back it up. With evidence.
Alright.
Not on the phone. It’s too dangerous. Come to my house.
The Bendolzian consulate?
My house. I know you are nearby. Come quick. Before someone tries to intercept you. They’re watching me closely. Get down to the marina. Look for a Bendolzian boat.
How will I spot it?
You’ll spot it. Hurry. They will be moving in on you from the moment this call ends.
Click
Belize, June 4th 2114
The line went dead. Robert Fadden blinked. The fact he managed to get a phone interview with the most elusive man on Earth was enough to keep his editor happy.
He had heard the rumours, everyone had; Sanjay Gupta was an Indian who had made his fortune in the waste disposal business. Somehow a decade or so ago he then made a bigger fortune defrauding the Bendolzians. The details were sealed and secret.
But everyone wanted this man. He had gone on the run. He was utterly paranoid they said. He lived on a private island where he partook in drug fulled orgies.
He was a real life Bond villain.
Still, mused Fadden, there WERE parts of his story that had his hard-nosed journalistic soul wondering. The Bendolzians had responded to the arrest warrants out on him by designating his island home their consulate and was considered Bendolzian territory. Rumour said he was forced them to do it- but how do you influence an entire alien species to do your bidding?
And the charges were ALL mysteriously dropped a couple of years ago. No clear explanation was ever given.
Every journalist on Earth wanted to work out what was going on with this story. And he had gotten to talk to the man. The first to have ever done that.
Fadden sat at the desk of his hotel room, sweat clinging to his body. ‘They will be moving in on you’? Well the paranoia part was correct.
Inwardly, Fadden could hear his mother, her strict Presbyterian Scottish accent, Don’t be having anything to do with dangerous men Bobby his internal version of her intones, Ya neva know what trouble it can land ya in.
But another part of him hears the words of his editor, Get the story Rob, and I promise you a front page. For about ten seconds Robert Fadden is torn between prudence and daring, between caution and risk.
He opts for risk. He moves without explanation or pause. He grabs his phone and throws it into his bag, followed by his digital recorder, a cheap digital camera, and the keys to the rental car parked in the garage below the hotel. He puts on his jacket (despite the heat) and heads out.
He foregoes waiting for the old lift, but takes the fire stairwell: moving fast, leaping the last three steps to each landing, downwards, forwards, driven as much by the excitement of the story than the fears of some paranoid billionaire.
In a few moments he enters the relative coolness of the underground car park; half full, he spots the small green 2093 Zephyr sat by itself. It was boxy, had seen much better days and was clearly the kind of hire car people on a budget would take. Which is why it was his.
He leaps in, inserts the key, watches as its electric engine starts instantly and silently, and quickly makes his way up and out onto the street besides the Hotel Anacebo.
The heat is stifling; even with the cars aircon he can feel it. A tropical heat, wet and stuffy, where the humidity was enhanced by the rainforest that surrounded the town and threatened, always, to overwhelm it.
The town was small. All roads led either out to the forest or down to the marina. He took the turns to the latter. He didn’t drive especially quickly but he did glance, nervously, at his rear view mirror a few times.
30 years had passed since humans had encountered Bendolzians; a gentle, faintly insectoid, interstellar species, whose exploration ship had emerged on the edge of the solar system and who had come towards Earth broadcasting messages of peace in a dozen languages.
Three decades of amazement and wonder. It had changed the world. The Bendolzians were far more advanced than we were in the realm of science. Human life expectancy had increased on average 25 years since they began sharing their technologies with us.
People spoke of a new golden age.
In return the humans had a culture and a civilisation that fascinated the aliens. Human music, human languages, human art. The Bendolzians, it was said, had given the human race the technology to produce stable clones in return for a live performance of a concerto by Bach. At least that is what everyone said. The aliens didn’t use currency. They gave us technology, we gave them culture.
But as Fadden drove he realised that while a generation had passed since then and Bendolzian technology had impacted upon all aspects of human life... in some places it was more apparent than others. Here? Miles from anywhere, a small, poor town, in a small, poor province of a small, poor country? You couldn’t tell at all.
The cars were ramshackle, the streets badly paved, the shops were basic. Life here carried on as if it was the 2030’s not the 2110’s. Poverty. Unemployment. Corruption.
Mankind maybe wasn’t alone anymore but it sure hadn’t changed much.
The marina’s car park is crowded but he finds a spot, parks the car, slugs his bag over his shoulder and strides towards the water. Inwardly he grins.
He was on his way to meet a real life Bond villain.
He scans the scene before him. As usual the place is filled with rusty fishing boats that have seen better days and a few small cargo craft. Further down is where the private boats are- he can see the masts of about two dozen yachts. Most will be small, he knows from experience; folks who live on the sea, often retirees. Living the dream and sailing the world.
As he walks he finds himself looking behind him and wondering if anyone was following him... Stop it. The guys paranoid
He strides onwards purposefully and notices a bunch of locals staring with real interest out at the edge of the marina. And then he sees what they are staring at.
It’s a boat. It’s a boat because it moves on water. But no part of it is touching the water. It hovers about six feet above the waves, gliding through the air. Its not... flying... as it’s wake causes the water to stir as if it was gliding in on some kind of invisible fin.
Long, sleek, elegant, very purple, and slightly ominous.
Clearly the Bendolzian boat then.
Robert makes his way towards the pier the boat seemed to be aiming at. The glare of the water makes him squint for a moment before he decides to put on his sunglasses. He stands there, watching the boat cut its engine and drift towards him. A tall Scot, in casual trousers, blond crew cut, and sunglasses.
How very fuckin James Bond of ya, ya wee Weegie Shite! goes his inner monologue.
Fadden is a tad disappointed that stepping onto the edge of the boat isn’t an actual Bendolzian but a human. By the looks of things, a local, dressed in a crisp white uniform.
“Mr Fadden?”
“Yes. Is this for me?”
“Yes Mr Fadden. Please come on board. We have instructions to take you at once to the Consulate...”
The Consulate of the Most Serene Chorus of the Beldolzia Collective had once been on the market as a millionaires retreat, a few decades ago. A half moon shaped island, two miles off the coast of Belize and facing the Caribbean.
There was a mansion, tennis courts, private grounds, more. All available for anyone who wished for privacy and avoidance of US Tax laws.
But then Sanjay Gupta has bought it and it had become an alien consulate and was one of the more discussed places on Earth.
Still, as the craft sliced through the air above the sea Robert couldn’t help have the impression he wasn’t approaching the some evil lair, rather somewhere that looked like a small, tacky, tourist resort. It was conservative, slightly garish and very boring.
No grand displays of alien technology, no alien flags, no aliens.
As the ship carefully and expertly navigated to a landing pad next to a pier the only indication he was technically on alien soil was a small sign which informed visitors that this island was under the laws and jurisdiction of the Bendolzians.
He was met by a polite staff and escorted to see the elusive billionaire. As he strides, Fadden looked about him.
Can’t imagine anyone having an orgy in a place like this. Maybe a game of bingo...
Twenty five minutes later, small talk over with, he has his recorder set up and mic placed to pick up his target.
He had to admit- Sanjay Gupta was not what he was expecting. Bespectacled, hair thinning, his face filed with a smile that was a little too over eager, a growing gut. If anything Fadden would have said he seemed more needy Indian uncle than evil billionaire.
The Scottish reporter clears his throat, turns on the recorder and begins.
“So, Mr Gupta...”
“Sanjay please. I prefer informality in my interviews,” comes the reply. Gupta’s English was perfect; the exact intonations of formal Received Pronunciation. Fadden could tell he had spent a lot to hide his origins form Uttar Pradesh.
“Fine. Sanjay. So, for the record, why did so many governments accuse you of fraud and theft?”
The billionaire smiles his over eager smile and sits back on his luxurious couch.
“Do you know the precise accusations or only the board terms?”
He’s avoiding...
“Only the broad terms, obviously.”
“Why is this? You are a journalist after all? Surely YOU would know more?”
Fadden can sense some kind of trap, so makes sure to answer precisely.
“The United World Global Council declared that since the crimes were committed against Beldolzians it would be better if the exact details remains a secret, to prevent any inter-species misunderstandings they said.”
Gupta seems pleased with this answer, and nodding says, “Indeed. The seven nations in the UWGC decreed it and the other 79 in the general assembly who had made allegations against me agreed to follow their decision. So the world was only ever given a broad over view of what I supposedly did.”
“Massive fraud of the Beldolzians,” says Robert, hoping to get more out of him, “and theft and deception. Hundreds of counts. Which makes me restate my question: Why?”
“Because they were jealous. I merely saw a gap in the market first and they could not see a way of closing this gap,” comes the reply.
“So the accusations were untrue?”
“Indeed Mr Robert, but it is worse that that? They were a smokescreen. The governments of humanity only alleged those things so they could shake me down for money. They wanted a cut of my profits. Extortion. So I made a deal with them and suddenly the charges were dropped.”
“Really?”
Fadden tried to keep the skepticism out of his voice but fails. Gupta did not seem to notice.
“Really Mr Robert. There WAS a fraud committed but not enacted by myself. It was done by the leaders of the world. I’m the victim here.”
“That’s a very serious accusation...”
“Would you like me to show you the emails? The private correspondence I have from the worlds leaders? The President of the EU? Prime Minister of the Greater Indian Republic? I even have a mail from the Patriarch of the Holy Russian Theocracy offering to lift the excommunication they had placed upon me, in exchange for hard currency. Extortion.”
“Because you are making...”
“Because I’ve made a fortune and made the Bendolzians very happy. Our alien friends pay me for simply providing them a service,” says the Indian. The Scot was having none of this, his hard nose journalist edge sought to sting his subject into revealing more.
“By selling them fake art? That seemed to be the gist of the accusations.”
Gupta smiles, all teeth and thin lips, but his eyes are cold.
“I never sold fakes. I sold copies.”
“You don’t pay a fortune for a copy,” spits back Fadden.
“The Bendolzians do.”
“Why?”
Gupta thinks and leans forward and say quietly, ‘I need to talk about that sex statement I made on the phone yes?”
“It was a hell of a statement to make. Provocative.”
“Deliberately so, Mr Robert. But not incorrect.”
“Explain it to me. Why do alien sexual practices mean you made fortune selling them copies of art?”
The billionaire nods and leans back again, his eyes searching Fadden’s face for a moment.
“Alright Mr Robert. I need to ask you a hypothetical question to begin. Indulge me for a moment.”
“Go ahead,” comes the crisp Glaswegian accent.
“Let us assume you are gay. Or that sexuality and gender is not something you cared about. I don’t know if you do, I don’t care, I just need you to suspend those concepts for me before I ask you this question,” says Gupta.
“Alright. Consider them suspended. What’s the question?”
“Would you be inclined to sleep with me. Right now.”
Robert blinks. Part of him has to admit, he did NOT expect such a question. Rapidly, he regains his composure.
“Er... no.”
“Alright. Why?”
“I don’t find you attractive. As men go. If I was to find a man attractive, I don’t think you would be it.”
“So,” says Gupta, talking as casually as he would an old friend, “there is an aesthetic quality you would desire in a partner. My ‘looks’ are not attractive enough to entice you?”
“Indeed. Not attractive enough.”
The Indian smiles, this time with an amused twinkle in his eye.
“But consider- I am the richest man on Earth. Worth billions. Being my sexual partner has its advantages then.”
“Are you offering me cash to sleep with you? Hypothetically speaking of course,” says Robert, also amused at the conversation.
“Let’s assume I’m not, so let me be more precise- isn’t there a certain allure to the idea of having said ‘I slept with the richest man on Earth?’ Would this change your mind?”
“Maybe. I’m unsure.”
“Let us assume then if you slept with me, you would receive financial benefits.”
“How much?”
“Assume a lot.”
“No offence, it would have to be,” he says automatically, but the journalist inwardly worries if his reply went too far. Luckily it did not seem to have.
“None taken. But assume it would be a life changing amount. Does this change your answer?”
“Maybe. Probably. I don’t know. Probably.”
“Aha. So the result of my proposition depends upon the CONTEXT it occurs in. By myself? You have no desire to have sex with me. With my wealth? Maybe. With material reward? Probably. I am correct in this?”
Robert couldn’t help but worry where this was going.
“Mr Gupta, I have to say...”
“Mr Robert- firstly? It’s Sanjay. Secondly, let me assure you, I have NO desire to sleep with you. At all. You are are someone I do not find attractive. And you do not have an alluring multi-billion dollar fortune to help compensate for this.”
Fadden grins, and says, “So why the questions?”
“Consider the human criteria for sleeping with people. Trust me Mr Robert, I am not one of the winners in the lottery of life in this regards. But I am aware that all people have certain traits, certain criteria we all place before us when it comes to choosing a sexual partner.”
The billionaire folds one leg under his body and gets into his stride.
“For some it is good looks we value most. For others it is wealth. Others would find a man who is gentle to be what they seek for most. Still others would place the ability to make them laugh. Usually it is not just one thing, but a combination of things, of desires, that all mix together and are manifest in something called the hierarchy of desire.”
The Scotsman blinks and says quietly, “You referring to Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs?”
The Indians face lights up, the way a persons face changes when they realise someone understands what they are talking about.
“Partly. Maslow’s theories do not have any scientific proof behind them yes? But they remain popular over 150 years after they come out because we all recognise something of ourselves in them?”
“That’s a fair assessment,” says Robert, trying to remember courses in psychology and sociology he had studied in university decades ago.
“So, I do not use HIS example as the actual model of this heirachy, as humans are more complex and there is probably much more interplay beteeen the actual levels...”
“I’d always thought so.”
“Good. We agree. But I use the term ‘hierarchy of desire’ as shorthand to describe the complicated, and uniquely individualistic ways we humans make the choice to decide if we are going to have sex with someone. Or not. There are a myriad of factors yes?”
Robert remained silent. He’d have to do some reading after this interview to see if Gupta’s words were valid or just cherry picking aspects of things, but for now he was just letting his target speak. Gupta simply carries on.
“Deep seated desires, physical fetishes, the circumstances you find yourself in, your location, all these are a factor. But, when the decision is made, we ALL follow a simple concept- where does the person who wishes to sleep with me fit within my heirachy of desire?”
A shrug, “Above the criteria for sex? We will have sex most probably. Below it? And we most probably won’t.”
Fadden sat and watched this little Indian explain the theory with glee. He was also aware he had allowed Gupta steer the interview away from him. It was time to try and bring it back.
“Alright Sanjay, assume I agree with that. What has all of this to do with accusations of defrauding an entire alien species?”
Sanjay Gupta sighs and shakes his head. He stands and walks away from the seating area towards the far wall of his grand study. Along one side, open windows with billowing curtains, reveal a stunning vista of the Caribbean but he ignores it.
“Follow me please,” he says as he does this. Robert Fadden, startled, grabs his microphone and follows the billionaire.
Gupta walks towards a painting at the far, far end of the massive room, leans upon a nearby desk and indicates to it.
“Mr Robert? Please, look at this,” he says politely.
The Scotsman joins the billionaire and gazed at the painting. It was sumptuous. A renaissance work he was sure. A woman holding a rather chubby baby, talking to another woman, with a man stood behind her. Robert is drawn to the way the sumptuous colours and fine detail.
He gazed at it a few seconds and says “Beautiful. Is it expensive?”
Gupta grins and says,”It is ‘A Sacra Conversazione: The Madonna and Child with Saints Luke and Catherine of Alexandria’ by the Renaissance master, Titian. Painted around 550 years ago. It was last sold in 2011 for just shy of 17 million dollars. Its current value is 378 million dollars. US.”
Unsure of how to respond to the billionaire showing off his wealth Robert simply says, “It’s amazing.”
Gupta raises his eyebrows.
“I bought this for 250,000 dollars. Cash.”
“Why so cheap?”
“Its not the original,” comes the cool reply.
“It isn’t?”
“I paid a man in Hong King, a most skilled fabricator, that much cash to create a copy of it. A copy so good that only a true expert armed with a bevvy of technology would be able to detect it is NOT the real thing. It is by all accounts an amazing replica. Right down to the exact number of brushstrokes.”
Robert gazed at it. It LOOKED authentic. He has no idea why he is looking at it, but part of him senses the billionaire is close to confessing his fraud, So remains silent. People hate silence. They fill it.
Two seconds later Gupta fills the silence.
“Next question Mr Robert; if this is virtually indistinguishable from the original, except to the eye of an utter expert who has spent a lifetime studying the paintings of Titian, why is original verison worth 1384 times more than this?”
“Its a fake.”
“No, it would ONLY become a fake if I ever tried to say it was the original. I do not. It is a replica. A copy. I repeat the question; why is it worth much less than the original?”
“Because it’s NOT the original.”
“Agreed. But why do we insist an original is worth more than a copy?”
This is it Robert- this is him confessing... careful man... just entice him to confess...
“I dunno”, comes the Scottish brogue accent, “it’s complicated. Why do we value art?”
“A complex question, yes. But consider it this way- ultimately all you are saying is that the difference between this painting and the one it copies is the CONTEXT of both paintings yes?”
Robert Fadden frowns and thinks for a moment before speaking.
“Are you saying it’s like the way we pick sexual partners?”
“Not in so many words but at its heart, yes. There is an underlying pattern of thought. The thoughts themselves differ Mr Robert, but the pattern of thought, the idea of a hierarchy of desire remains.”
“I suppose I see your point Mr Gupta... Sanjay. But it’s rather thin don’t you think?”
Slowly the billionaire walks away from the painting to the open windows and just beyond it, a wide balcony that runs along the side of the massive room. There is no wind today, but despite the sun, the balcony is in shade. Robert finds it so wonderfully refreshing... and it’s a heck of a view.
As he walks, Gupta chats along with the journalist casually.
“You know what I was reading the other day? The original reviews of an old 20th century movie called ‘Psycho’. It is an amazing film. It is about a woman who steals money of her employer and then flees to join up with her lover in another state. As she drives, she is troubled by a violent storm and so decides to stop on her journey at somewhere called the Bates Motel, where she meets the owner, one Norman Bates...”
“Yes Sanjay, I am aware of ‘Psycho’. She gets murdered in the shower.”
“Oh good. Now what’s interesting is that the critics, without exception, slated the film. They called it unimaginative and plodding and even said it was infested with tediousness. Meanwhile the public hated it. They did not go see it. It was a commercial failure.”
The reporter frowns, “No. Wait. That’s not right. Hitchcock’s Psycho is a classic.”
The Indian smiles broadly at this reply.
“Ah. I refer to the remake made by Gus Van Sant 38 years later. An almost shot for shot remake of the original. A perfect copy. Utterly overlooked. It’s existence is almost forgotten about.”
There was a remake?
“Tell me- what is it about copies we hate so much? In the heriarchy of desire why do we hate ‘fakes’- men who try too hard, or movies that make copies of classics or modern versions of ancient paintings?”
Fadden gazed at the waves for a moment and says, “Authenticity. We value authenticity.”
“Ah, very good Mr Robert. We value authenticity. The key word there is ‘value’. When we talk about art we say authenticity. When we talk about sexual partners we can say sincerity. Or attractiveness. Whatever. It is NOT about HOW we place things in the heirarchy of desire, it is that we have these values at all that is crucial.”
“Alright Sanjay. Let’s assume I go along with this. What does all this have to do...”
“I’m getting to that Mr Robert. All I am saying ultimately is that when you study humans you quickly realise that this method of thinking in ingrained so deeply into us that it manifests itself in a million ways. So, shall I have sex with this person or that person? Shall I buy this suit or this coat? Shall I purchase this limited edition car? Shall I visit this country or that country? How much is this painting worth? Do you see?”
Robert stares out at the sea for a few seconds.
“Yes. I see. I think.”
“Or put it this way. Take the Mona Lisa. The most expensive painting in the world. It said to be priceless but I happen to know that if you offered the French government 7 billion Euros? They would let you purchase it. Of course it must remain in the Louvre for all time. But for seven billion you get a little plaque next to it saying it’s yours.”
Fadden can’t help but grin at Gupta.
“You asked didn’t you?”
“I was curious,” he laughs, “but now consider this. The Mona Lisa is worth 7 billion. A high grade copy of it printed on canvus with the best processes money can buy? Ten thousand euros. A low grade copy? Maybe 400. And a poster? Ten euro. See? We value originals, authenticated and unique above all others. And the CONTEXT of the other copies will dictate where we place them on the hierarchy of desire.”
“Right but...”
“But what about our alien friends?”
“Indeed,” says Fadden.
“Bendolzian’s are an odd bunch to look at. You must have seen pictures. Trust me they are much more shocking to meet for real. Eight feet high. Six legs around a long central core containing their mouth for eating and oriface for excretion. They have the torso above the core, which means arms, mouths, eyes and ears and crucially brains are separate from functions for eating and movement...”
“Yes I am aware of how... different they look. When did you first have dealings with them?”
The billionaire began walking back to his fake painting by the desk, the reporter carefully making sure his microphone picks up every word. Gupta seems to be happy to talk about his dealings with the aliens.
“I first visited the Bendolzian home world 9 years ago. Part of a mostly failed trade delegation. I was hoping to see if they needed any large scale waste disposal.”
“Go on?”
“My first day there? I met a human XenoBiologist. One of the first who went there. He told me something fascinating. The Bendolzians love sex. For the sake of sex.”
Robert nodded. Back to the sex talk.
“They DO?” He tried to sound mock shocked.
“Yes. Or so he thought. Bendolzians are capable of feeling intense pleasure during sex and seem to copulate often. Yet sex is a common social interaction for them. They use sex in greeting, departing, in establishing rapport. They have no sense of shame about it. And aside from a prohibition upon close familial members, to prevent genetic deformities, no hangs ups. They copulate. Frequently. Its why their population is so staggeringly large. There are 11 billion humans and 580 billion Bendolzian”
“So they like sex, good for them...”
“No Mr Robert. That’s not the point. You make the same mistake the XenoBiologists make. You see events but don’t think about what they mean...”
Gupta is back leaning against his desk. It’s covered in papers, neatly arranged, held down with some kind of gold coloured paperweight; perfectly aligned pens; a small, but powerful computer to one side. Fadden however is focused utterly upon the Indian.
“What this shows Mr Robert, is the Bendolzians do NOT have a heirarchy of desire.”
Gupta smiles, “And I realised at that exact moment that they and we THINK differently. This is not exactly a original thing to realise. It obvious really. My gift was I saw exactly how we differed in thought- what process of human thought they did not have. It’s why they don’t use currency. Why their society is far more fluid socially. They simply appreciate the pleasure of sex or the beauty in an object because it is pleasurable or beautiful.”
The Scotsman raises an eyebrow and says quietly, “So you mean...”
“I mean that to a Bendolzian, the ten euro poster of the Mona Lisa is as valuable as the high grade copy, or even the original. They do not fixate upon the need for authenticity. A thing is a thing to them. If it is a beautiful painting? They appreciate the painting, even if it is merely a cheap copy to us.”
Fadden watched as the India picked up the golden paperweight on his desk in an absent-minded manner. He then realised it wasn’t a golden paperweight at all, but an actual small ingot of gold, a few inches long, solid and set. Having it on the desk seemed like the kind of onsetentious display a billionaire liked to make. But he put it out of his mind. He had his exclusive.
“So,” says the reporter, zeroing in on his story, “you realised this and then exploited this?”
“I capitalised upon it. Bendolzians adore human culture yes? So I made a deal with them. I gained the exclusive rights to sell them human art. They love human art. Its alien but fascinating to them. I would sell copies of human paintings to them. To all of them. Any Beldozian now could own a small copy of any human painting. A simple high resolution copy. And they would pay me. Not much. But there are hundreds of billions of them. Micro transactions really do add up.”
“Wait- that IS fraud. That’s the work of artists. You are using THEIR work to gain profit...”
That smug grin returns.
“I never used any art created by a living painter. In fact I don’t use any work less than 100 years old. That left me all the art work from antiquity to the start of the twentieth century. Billions of images. All in the public domain. A never ending supply really.”
“What about the owners of these paintings? Or the museums? They hold the rights to these images, in terms of profit making...”
The India smiles and begins walking back to the comfy chairs, the reporter following him as he spoke.
“Two things Mr Robert- firstly, ALL human laws regarding licensing rights were written specifically to do with the gaining of currency and Bendoldzians do not use currency so they are technically inapplicable.”
Sanjay Gupta sits down, his face wearing a Cheshire Cat grin, “Secondly- museums? Really? Did you ever read about how in the early 21st century there was a rash of ‘copyright farmers’? Legal firms who would purchase the rights to old songs and then go after anyone who used those songs in any media, demanding payment? Men who never had a damn thing to do with the writing, performing and recording of the song, but who bought the rights and made a fortune from them? Tell me, how are museums functionally different from those odious creatures?”
“That’s a debate for the courts. I don’t think they would agree,” says the reporter sitting down opposite his target.
“Perhaps. Perhaps not. But the cases never came to court. The great and the good spluttered at what I was doing in utter indignation and rage, unleashed a bevvy of criminal charges upon me, sought to demand I cut them into my deal. A shake down. They were outraged that I, solely, was profiting from the collective output of thousands of years of human art.”
“Yes, agreed. Its not fair really...”
The billionaire smiles as he stares into his reflection in the small gold ingot he casually toyed with in his hands.
“Perhaps. But then? They dropped ALL the charges. Dropped everything. Retracted every single allegation. Can you guess why?”
“You cut them in?”
“Actually? I made a deal but not the one they wanted. I never gave them a penny. Which begs the question- why did they drop the allegations?”
“It was the Bendolzians? They were getting art from you. They moved to protect you?”
“Oh no Mr Robert. The answer is much more mundane and obvious. Think back along what I have told you during the interview. What is the one glaring inconsistency in my story. What part, when you think about it, doesn’t make sense? A single idea that doesn’t sit right?”
Robert Fadden blinks and sits back. His mind ranges over the rambling discussion. None of it really made too much sense he supposed. A billionaire justifying his fraudulent method of getting rich. Still, it DID seem to have a consistency to it. Fadden mused.
About sex, and art, and how humans think and how the aliens think, and about copies of art, and museums and lawsuits and fraud and...
He blinks.
“Wait. You said the Bendolzians PAID you. But Bendolzians don’t use currency. They never ‘pay’ anyone. They trade. Technology for art.”
“Ah, you are very intelligent Mr.Robert. Yes they trade. A thing for a thing.”
“They gave you technology?”
“No. I have never displayed any advanced technological item have I? No, they did not give me any technology for this art.”
“So what did they give you?”
The Indian smiles and tosses across the small gold ingot casually at him, underarm. Fadden catches it, loses it, and hurriedly grabs it as it falls. He stares at the gold bar for a few seconds.
“Gold?”
“The heriarchy of desire Mr Robert. Question- why do we value gold?”
“It’s precious.”
“No, WHY? Why is it considered precious?”
“It’s rare.”
“Yes. All gold on Earth arrived here at a very specific time period in the planets history. The late heavy bombardment; the asteroids came they hit the thick crust and gold was deposited. But it isn’t much. Gold is a rare and precious commodity on Earth. This rarity makes it desirable. It moves up the heirarchy of desire.”
“But the Bendolzians...”
“The Bendolzians are a very advanced civilisation. They harvest plasma from their sun you know? This process provides fuel for their ships. There is, however, an annoying side effect in this process.”
“Annoying side effect?”
“What business did I begin in again Mr Robert?”
Robert Fadden clings to the small gold ingot, but his eyes widen and in a horse Scottish whisper says, “Waste disposal...”
“Well done Mr Fadden. Bendolzians harvest plasma from their sun and remove the many impurities they find there, including huge quantities of a useless, soft yellow metal, that they have no need for. Gold. I offered to dispose of it for them. In my eagerness however, I unfortunately mentioned it had a value to us humans. Otherwise they may have just given it to me for free. But I was able to fashion an arrangement. I give them art, they give me lots of this waste metal,” he smiles.
“But... that... I mean...”
“Question Mr Robert- can you imagine what would happen to human civilisation if it was revealed that the most precious metal, the actual bedrock of the global economy, was actually as common as sea water?”
“It would... the price would...”
“It would lose its place in the heriarchy of desire Mr Robert. It would no longer be a Mona Lisa, but a low quality postcard of it. The value would plummet.”
“It would... it could... cause a global economic meltdown.”
“Which is what the leaders of the world realised. So a deal was struck. They leave me alone and I keep this a secret. I was allowed enough gold to enter the market to make me richer than anyone else who has ever been and then? I sit on the rest. Occasionally I make secret transfers to the few governments who know. I have actually helped prevent a economic crisis or two. I get good rates.”
“But that’s...”
“Merely a function of the hierarchy of desire Mr Robert. Human beings are no longer alone in the universe. But we haven’t actually changed at all have we? We are still human.”
He laughs, joyful and happy. He catches Robert’s shocked face and his grin seems to grow.
“Of course, I need to keep this fact a secret, but I’m fine with that. Mostly.”
The reporter feels a cold clammy sweat trickle down his back. He gazed at the gold bar in his hand, his mind awash with a thousand thoughts and then one thought stops his thinking dead. One single thought makes him slowly look up, look at his microphone and the recording device, and then look Sanjay Gupta dead in the eye.
“Wait. You have to keep this secret. From everyone. Why are you confessing to me?”
“Oh Mr Robert. I’m not confessing... I am BRAGGING. The only issue with having pulled this off, this brilliant manipulation of TWO species is, alas, I can’t tell anyone about it. It can be somewhat vexing.”
He leans forwards eagerly, a cold glint in his eyes.
“And so? Every so often, when the desire to gloat gets too much much for me? I invite a journalist who is sniffing around, and there are ALWAYS journalists sniffing around, to come meet me. And then I get to brag about this brilliant thing I have done. It is most refreshing and enjoyable to do so. You will be the fourth person I have told this too.”
“What happened to the other three?”
A shrug.
“They are all dead. Oh, it wasn’t me who did it. All three left this Island as alive as when they arrived. But what can I say? All three knew a secret. And maybe they would have published the story. Or maybe they would have kept it to themselves. Who knows? But I ask you? What government can take that chance eh?”
“They were killed?”
“Maybe. They are all certainly dead. Which is odd don’t you think?”
Robert Madden finds himself standing, moving towards the open windows, staring out onto the perfect Caribbean Sea. It’s blue waves gently undulate but the beauty of it is lost upon him. His mind races, considering possibilities and permutations.
Behind him two security men enter the room quietly, and the Indian muses, “Of course we have to ask WHY human governments would think it better to dispose of the reporters like this. Where exactly DO trashy tabloid journalists fit on the hierarchy?”
Fadden feels very cold.
A Bond villain after all...
“You can keep that, by the way,” says Gupta, and Robert is aware he is still holding the gold bar; he gazed at it as his host says, “it’s not like I would miss it.”
Robert closes his eyes. He considers all he knows about the world, all he has learned about life and comes to one sudden, cold, reality.
“I’m fucked,” he says openly, his Glaswegian accent becoming thicker as he gets upset.
“Alas yes Mr Andrew. It would appear so. Now, these gentlemen will escort you to the boat.”
Robert turns and sees his recording device on the table. Next to it sits Sanjay Gupta, smiling away and next to him stand two menacing gentlemen in well made suits.
Twenty minutes later he gathers his wits. As he sits on the purple boat he realises he has one chance, just one chance... if he can upload the interview onto the web, he could maybe use it as leverage. His mind races through possible negotiations with mysterious government figures, his silence can be bought.
But as he fumbles with his phone he spots something and a few minutes later a crew member explains “Mr Gupta apologises, but Bendolozian craft generate a field that prevents signal getting out. If you could wait until you reach the shore...”
Robert Fadden’s mind races. He’ll upload the moment he gets to the marina, then go back to his hotel, if he has time, encrypt the recording, hide all trace, use its existence as a way to...
But as the boat comes into view of its destination he sees them. A small handful of local police officers. Amidst them westerners. Tall ones. Casually dressed. Wearing sunglasses. Their faces all staring at the purple boat that glides into the marina...
He hears his mother’s voice echo in his mind Don’t be having anything to do with dangerous men Bobby; Ya neva know what trouble it can land ya in.

TIL: Britain abolished slavery in its empire in 1833, except in India

Years Ago My Grandfather Fought the Devil. Now I Think He's Come Back For Revenge

When I was a boy, my Grandfather Nathaniel Forbes often spoke of how he fought the Devil at the crossroads, just outside of Mill Creek, Montana.

Now the way he told it, he was a young man in his prime, looking for any opportunity to show the world that he had balls of steel. Not too different from most young men out there. Like most, he’d heard the local legend about the crossroads just outside of town. The legend was old, far older than he was and there are still some folks who whisper about it today. I don’t think most people truly bought into any of it. But kids looking to prove their grit have bought into dumber stories of the supernatural and as history marches on they’ll buy even into dumber stories.

I don’t know just what my Grandpa thought he’d find out there. If he really believed in the legend or not, but when he was told that if one were to visit a certain crossroad at midnight one might just happen to meet a pale man in a pitch black suit, he had to go and see for himself. Now, according to the stories about the man in black, he’d grant you any one thing for a price. Exactly what the price was, varied depending on who you ask. Some folks say he’d take your soul, others say he’d ask for something of value. Either way. The cost of any gifts he gave was always high. Higher than even the richest man would care to pay. Some folks swore up and down that the man in black truly was the Devil incarnate and those who didn’t dismissed it as a fairy tale.

My Grandfather didn’t seem to care either way. He wasn’t looking for any gifts. He wasn’t after a boon. Oh no. He was a prideful bastard, even back then and he was looking for a fight. I couldn’t tell you if he was looking to prove something. Faith, or devotion perhaps? That God was on his side? In all his years, he never actually said why he’d gone to the crossroads to fight the Devil. However if you believe the story the way he tells it, he met that man in black and he had his fight.

According to him, he beat that son of a bitch into the dirt. The man in black put up a good fight, but my Grandpa was even stronger and when all was said in done, the man lay broken on the ground, just outside the cabin and Nathaniel Forbes towered over him. He looked down at the man in black and he said to him:
“You stay out of Montana, boy. You stay out of Montana for as long as there is a Montana because if you don’t, I’ll come back and knock you on your ass. Even if I’m not around, my own blood will do the same. You ain’t welcome here.”
And with that, the man in black sank into the accursed dirt and did not return.

When I was a kid, I always figured that whole story was a crock of bullshit. Something the old man had just made up. One of my Grandmothers had a similar story about an old fur coat she owned, often saying that she’d killed the bear herself. Of course, she hadn’t. That coat wasn’t even real fur. But it was a tall tale told in good fun to entertain me and my brothers. Nothing more. I thought the same of Grandpa Nathan’s story about the devil. While he had almost certainly once been a prideful and arrogant young man and he had been in more than his fair share of actual brawls, I never once believed he’d fought the Devil himself. That said, my disbelief didn’t stop me from loving the old man, though. I only knew of the scrappy bastard he’d once been from his own stories of his glory days. Even then I could hardly picture the man picking those fights as my kindly, doting old Grandfather. Time had mellowed him out and I can’t begin to count the happy memories I have of him while I was growing up.

That’s why when he passed away a couple of weeks ago… It hit me hard.

Grandpa Nathan had been the sort of man who I’d been sure couldn’t possibly die. Even in his late 80s, he was full of life and sharp as a knife. Age may have taken its toll on his body but not his mind. Every now and then I still caught glimpses of the fiery young man he’d once been and sometimes when I visited with him I even forgot he was staring down the barrel of his nineties.

The last time I saw him was when my family and I went down for a visit. It had been the anniversary of my Grandmother's death, and I thought it might be nice to offer him some company. My wife Cathy and I packed up the baby and drove down to his little cottage a ways out of town. That cottage hadn’t changed in fifty years and going back there always carried a certain rush of nostalgia with it.

As soon as we’d pulled up into his dirt driveway, I could see Grandpa Nathan making his way out from the back yard with an unfamiliar companion I’d never seen before. A large black dog. It was a mutt that looked to have a bit of labrador in it. It bounded happily by his side, tongue hanging out as if it was having the time of its life.

“Pete!” He called, “Well, well. Long time no see boy.”
“Hey Grandpa.” I replied as I got out of the car. Cathy went to get the baby while I greeted him. “How’re you holding up?”
“As well as one can, I s’ppose.” He said, voice hoarse and raspy from age. His dog sniffed at me and I pet its head in greeting.
“I guess you made a new friend, huh?”

“So I did.” Grandpa replied. He cracked a smile down at the dog. “Found him down by the side of the road. Poor boy looked to be starving. I just couldn’t leave him. Couldn’t find an owner so I figured I might as well take care of him. He’s taken a shine to me since then.”As he spoke, he reached down to give the dog a pat on the head. It eagerly licked his hand in response.

“There we go, that’s a good boy… Can I get you a beer, Pete?”
No matter what time of day it was, the old man always offered beer. I passed him up on the offer. Cathy had the baby out and I excused myself to give her a hand.

The visit was nice but uneventful. There’s not much I can really say about it. There were no tearful goodbyes or parting words of wisdom. We watched an old Frankenstein movie with Boris Karloff and watched as Grandpa fawned over the baby. Little Katie, who was barely three months old at that point smiled and giggled at him. She tugged on his beard before my wife took her for her bottle. That dog lingered around Grandpa, rarely leaving his side although it did come up to me for a scratch behind the ear every now and then. It seemed even tempered enough, which was nice to see. I recall thinking that Grandpa could’ve used a pet to keep him company.

I remember that Grandpa and I talked for a bit, mostly just shooting the shit but I don’t recall much of what was said. We didn’t stay for too long. We’d had Chinese delivered and had dinner with him, then packed up and headed home. I remember giving the old man one last hug as Cathy put Katie into the car.
“You take care of yourself. Call me if you need anything.” I’d said. He’d just playfully shrugged me off.
“I got myself covered, Pete. You just watch the baby. And don’t be a stranger! I don’t mind the company!”

He’d waited on the porch as we drove off and in my rearview mirror, I could see him heading back inside, that dog still on his heels. I told myself I’d be back again to see him in a week or two, if for no other reason than just to check on him. In the meanwhile, I was just a phone call away and he knew that. Maybe it was arrogant of me to assume everything was just going to be okay. I’ve replayed that day countless times in my mind, but Grandpa Nathan seemed as strong and as sharp as ever. Maybe he could’ve had another decade or two in him… Fate had other plans, though.

Nathaniel Forbes died alone in his house less than a week later. Proud and stubborn until the end, he’d climbed onto a small stepladder to get something out of his pantry and somehow he’d lost his balance and fallen. I want to believe that he died on impact. I really, really want to believe that… I’m not sure I can, though.

Grandpa Nathan was a tough old bastard and I can’t honestly buy that a simple fall would be enough to stop him, even if he was well into his eighties… I don’t want to think about him lying on the cold kitchen floor for days, screaming for help. I don’t want to think about it but I just can’t stop myself. I really can’t and while I want to believe that he died peacefully, part of me knows that he didn’t. Part of me knows that he suffered. I won’t get into the ugly details of his estate. Anyone who's ever lost someone could probably tell you what a bureaucratic snafu death can be. I ended up being the one to handle most of his final affairs. His possessions, the house and most importantly, the dog.

Truth be told I would’ve been perfectly happy just putting the damn thing up for adoption. It was a nice dog, sure but I wasn’t too sure I wanted it in my house. I didn’t fault it for what it had done to Grandpa Nathaniel's body. No. It had been about a week before they’d found him. I couldn’t blame a big hungry dog alone in a house next to fresh meat for doing what came naturally. I didn’t want it in my house though. I tolerated it for the first few days, but I made it clear I was sending it off to the pound the first chance I got. Cathy had other ideas.

“We can’t just get rid of it.” She’d said to me, “Do you have any idea how many dogs get put down instead of being rehomed? We’d probably end up killing it!”
“Well we can’t keep it. Dogs need attention. They need walks. We’ve already got our hands full with Katie. Besides, we don’t even know if that dogs gonna get along with her!”

Considering that my wife had the baby in her lap when I said that, she didn’t seem to like me bringing her into the conversation.
“Katie will be fine.” She insisted, “I’m already going to be home with her. So why not have the dog here as well? If nothing else it’ll keep me company while you’re at work.”
“You’ve already got the baby!”

I regretted saying that the moment I actually said it, and the look on Cathy's face told me that I had lost this debate. The dog was going to stay.

Grandpa Nathaniel hadn’t actually given him a name. As far as I knew, he’d just called him ‘Dog’, so Cathy took to calling him Patch. Not sure where she picked that name out from and I’m not so sure that it fit him, but it became his name. I can’t say that Patch was all that unwelcome of an addition to the family. For sure, he was a cute and playful thing and he seemed just as friendly as he did when I’d first seen him at Grandpa Nathan’s. I noticed pretty quickly that he had a couple of quirks, though.

Every dog has its quirks. That’s normal. You see cute pictures and videos of quirky pets on the internet all the time. My friend had one dog with truly crippling anxiety and Cathy used to have a poodle mix that would start licking you, and never stop. Patch on the other hand was a little bit different. The dog didn’t sleep.

Cathy put Katie down fairly early and she usually passed out shortly afterward. I was the night owl of the family. Sleeping had never come easy to me. Some nights I just couldn’t shut off my brain so I usually stayed up late. Some nights I’d stay in the living room, working late and when I did, I noticed that dog doing the rounds around the house. He wasn’t moving like he wanted to play. I grew up with dogs and you can tell when they’re playful. Patch just sort of wandered. I’d hear his nails clicking on the kitchen tile, then he’d walk into the living room and stare at me for a moment before continuing to walk.

At first, I thought he might’ve been nervous or wanted to go outside but he never seemed upset nor did he respond when I opened the door for him. He just liked to wander. He didn’t lie down or nap. He just kept going. Maybe that was a red flag looking back. I really can’t say for sure.

I tried to write off the nighttime wanderings and I only mentioned it to Cathy once. She wrote it off quickly and so I tried to do the same. The vet had told us that Patch was a perfectly healthy dog so I didn’t really have any reason to believe anything was wrong. All the same I couldn’t shake this sense of unease that had hung in the air ever since Grandpa died. I told myself it was grief or stress and for a while I believed it. Now though, I’m quite sure it was something else entirely.

It started with little things. Things would disappear around the house. Nothing major. The remote. Car keys. Cables. Things that go missing all the time. It was a little bit frustrating, sure but nothing all that serious. I don’t think either Cathy or I saw it as anything more than a run of bad luck. It wasn’t until it got worse that we started to really take notice.

The first major incident came while I’d been redoing some of the baseboards in our house. I’m relatively good with my hands, and I take care of a lot of the renovations in our house. I’d taken off some of the baseboards to repaint them and was just putting them back up when the accident happened.

I’d been using the nailgun to put the dried baseboards back in place. I knew what I was doing. Hell, I’d used that goddamn nailgun a thousand times without anything going wrong, and looking back, I’m still not sure exactly what happened. The doctor at the hospital suggested that the nail had hit something hard and ricocheted off. I think that’s bullshit, but I don’t have any other explanations. One minute I was on the ground, nailing the baseboard back into place and the next I felt a white-hot pain in my hand. I saw the nail embedded just beneath my finger before I saw any blood. The tip was coming out my palm and it took me a moment to register what had happened before I started screaming. It was at about that time that the pain hit me.

Cathy came running in, the baby in her arms and eyes wide. That dog was right on her heels, tail wagging as if nothing in the world was wrong. I remember that it looked right at me, tongue hanging out in a stupid doggy grin. I got to spend the rest of the day in the ER because of that and the hospital bill afterward wasn’t a pretty one either. That wasn’t the end of my troubles though.

It wasn’t even a week later that the fire happened. I wasn’t there to see it. I only heard about it through Cathy’s frantic call while I was on my way home from work. It took me a few moments to get her to slow down to explain to me what the hell had happened.

Apparently, she’d been in the kitchen when the smoke had started to pour from the oven. She’d seen the orange glow from inside and thankfully had put out the fire before it spread. Aside from our oven being toast, there were thankfully no other damages. I couldn’t blame her for being terrified though.

There were other events as well in the weeks that followed. Mostly smaller incidents. Broken glasses. A branch falling and damaging the roof. Nothing quite as life-threatening although with how frequent they had become, that sense of impending dread I felt seemed to grow and grow until at last, it came to a head. Of course, by then it was too late.

By then, what had happened had made everything else pale in comparison. The nail, the fire, the little accidents… They meant nothing after we lost Katie.

I remember waking up to Cathy’s screams. They tore abruptly through the house and I almost fell out of bed when I heard them. I tore through the house, racing into Katie’s room and I saw Cathy there, standing over the crib and cradling our baby in her arms. Her eyes were wide and filled with tears and as I opened my mouth to ask what was wrong, the words died in my throat. Just looking at Katie, I understood.

She was pale and limp. Cathay cradled her close but even as she did I could see her limbs just hanging there, lifeless. In a moment, my entire world shattered. The next thing I knew, I was crying and trying to somehow wake up our little girl… But there was no taking it back. The doctor said she’d died in the night. Even after all was said and done, they wrote it off as SIDS.

Do you know what a baby coffin looks like? It’s small. Like a chest or a footlocker. It’s too fucking small… I was able to carry it in my arms when we took her to be buried. I was her single pallbearer. If you’ve never lost a child I envy you. I truly do. It’s a pain that is impossible to describe. It rips away every other thought on your mind and replaces it with a grief so deep that it leaves you hollow.

The house seemed too quiet… I found myself actually missing being woken up by her crying and Cathy? She was silent as the grave. When I’d married her, she’d had such a spark of life that I’d adored. She’d been so willing to go anywhere and do anything. Even when we’d had Katie, she’d taken to motherhood like a fish to water. But watching her in the aftermath of her death? It broke whatever pieces were left of my shattered heart.

She spent most of her time in bed. I was there for her as much as I could be… But I was hardly in any better of a shape myself and I truly had no idea what to say to her. There was no reassurance that I could give that wouldn’t sound empty. There was no bright side to look on! Patch had continued to bound around the house, seemingly oblivious to all that had been going on around him. The stupid dog didn’t understand and with all that had happened, he’d become an afterthought. Something we took care of without thinking of. We let him out, we fed him but we hardly noticed him otherwise. Even his sleepless late night wandering had been forgotten by us. Both of us were just… empty… And in our own ways we grieved.

It wasn’t long after Katie’s death that I started watching the footage from her nannycam. It was strange, I suppose but I guess it gave me comfort. Seeing her again… Watching as we put her down. It might not have been healthy but it let me cling to those memories of her and let me hold on to some small part of her that even death couldn’t take away. I’d avoided the footage from the night she’d died. I knew I couldn’t bring myself to watch it… But I didn’t delete it.

On the nights when Cathy was in bed, either asleep or crying I’d sit on the couch and remember our daughter, watching that footage and looking for some form of closure that never seemed to come. And when at last I found my answer, it was by accident. I hadn’t realized I was watching the footage from the night Katie had died… The video had started to play automatically and through the tears I hadn’t thought to check which one it was.

I’d been on the couch, watching the recordings on my phone. I was two or three beers in and waiting to see how many it took before I stopped feeling like shit. On the screen, I watched Cathy put our little girl into the crib. There were no plushies in there. No pillows. Nothing that could have suffocated her…

I watched Katie sleep for a while until from the corner of the screen I saw the door open. In the darkness of her room, I saw movement on the camera. Then a shape seemed to drop into the crib. Four dark legs stood around Katie as a dark snout pressed against the camera, moving it to face downwards. It didn’t record what happened next… Maybe that was for the best. But it recorded enough.

I sat upright and rewound the footage. There was no way that Patch had jumped into Katie’s crib, right? But the footage was right in front of me! The fucking dog had gone into our little girls crib! Looking at the date on the footage, I recognized the date and felt a sick pit growing in my stomach. My grief seemed to boil over inside of me and was replaced with a cold, bitter rage.

The dog… That fucking dog! That was why Katie had died! Some little, useless voice in the back of my mind tried to argue that maybe he was just looking for attention but I couldn’t have cared less in that moment. Like a raging bull I only saw red! I dropped my phone and stood up, listening for the clicking of toenails as Patch wandered the house but I heard nothing.

Dead silence… And yet I felt as if I wasn’t alone in the room I was in.
“Patch?” I called, my voice trembling in anger but there was nothing and that made me uneasy.
Something felt wrong…
“Patch?!”
Still nothing. I’m not sure what I would have done even if that fucking Dog had come running anyways.

What I’d seen couldn’t be denied though. That fucking Dog had taken my little girl from me! I refused to keep it in the house! Cathy… I needed to show Cathy what I’d found. I snatched up my phone and headed for the bedroom, looking down at the paused footage one last time.
“Cathy?” I called although the name died in my throat.

The first thing I noticed was the dark shape of a man standing by the bed, silhouetted by the light from the window. Then I saw the tangled bedsheets with no sign of my wife amongst them.

I froze and stumbled back a step, looking up at the man in black. I could feel his eyes on me and somehow I knew he was smiling.
“What the fuck…?”
“There’s no need to swear, Peter.” He replied. His voice was smooth and mellow.

“Who the hell are you? Where the fuck is Cathy!”
The man just continued to smile. Looking into his eyes, I sensed something familiar in them.
“Don’t you recognize me? I’m your dear sweet Patches. Your lovable, loyal dog… Although I must admit I really was not fond of that name. Oh well. No need for it anymore…”
“I have a fucking gun in the kitchen and if you don’t give me a straight fucking answer I’ll-”
“You’ll what? Kick me out of Montana again, just like dear old Grandpa?”

I felt a cold chill run through me. The dark man's smile seemed to grow wider. “I’ll confess he did put up quite the fight all those years ago… But his little ‘warning’ was too tempting to pass up. I just had to come back to see if he’d make good on it. Unfortunately, the spirit was willing but the body was far too fragile…”

I opened my mouth to speak, but the words didn’t come out. All I could do was stare at this impossible man. The Devil himself, staring me down and taunting me.

“Unfortunately, old Nathaniel was adamant that his blood could beat me into the dirt just like he did back in the day and as I said I truly do love a challenge… I’ve watched you. For a month now I’ve watched you. You’re not as stubborn as he used to be. You’re older than he was when he defeated me… But I’ll humor your challenge all the same. I’ll let you prove the old Man right and if you do, I’ll leave Montana again. I’ll let your sweet wife return home… I’ll even give you back your little girl…”
The words from his mouth sounded cold and serpentine. I didn’t know what to make of them. I remained rooted to the spot, my eyes locked with his as he awaited my answer.

“I’ve caused you a lot of pain, Peter. Surely you’d love some payback, wouldn’t you? How about it... You and me. Down at the crossroads outside of Mill Creek Montana. Just as it was meant to be.”
I looked the Devil in the eye and as I did, I felt my fists clench.
“You’ll let my Cathy go… and we’ll get our little girl back…” I replied, my voice barely more than a croak.
“No strings attached. I’m a grifter, friend. But I’m no liar.” He said, “Shall I see you there tomorrow night?”
“Yeah…”

The words sounded so heavy coming out of my mouth. But they needed to be said. The rage and grief in me seemed to boil over. I had no idea what I was getting myself into. Some part of me knew it was a trap but something else told me that I had to do it anyways.
“Tomorrow night… I’ll beat the living fuck out of you and when I do, you stay the fuck away from my Goddamn family for good. Do you hear me?”
“Loud and clear.” The man in black replied and just like that, he was gone…

I’ve recorded all of this so that if I don’t come back, someone knows what happened to me. I’m going to head out to the crossroads soon and one way or another I aim to finish what Grandpa Nathan started. I know that the Devil I’m facing won’t fight fair. I know my odds might not look good… But I’ll fight all the same and even if it kills me I’ll beat that son of the bitch into the dirt, just like my Grandpa did.

I’ll win this one. Whatever it fucking takes.

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Mike Cannon-Brookes who is now a minority owner in the Jazz would be the second wealthiest owner in the NBA if he owned the majority share according to Forbes. He's valued at $15 billion. Steve Ballmer at $51 billion is by far the richest.

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World Richest cuck, Jeff Bezos, who also owns the Washington Post, is accusing Pro-Trump owner of the National Enquirer, David Pecker, of blackmailing him with nude selfies' and a 'DICK PICK’ that reportedly resembles a miniature version of his bald head

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TIL in 2011 Samuel Irving Newhouse, Jr. who is the owner of reddit's parent company, Advanced Publications, was named the 47th richest American by Forbes magazine.

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