I know a few so far:
Franken Fran

A Killer's Instincts (100CP per purchase, Assassins Two Free): You've got some years and blood on you, haven't you? Your training has paid off, in a few ways.
Firearms – Quickdraw in a blink, full auto the ten ring at 30 paces or snipe the crest off a cockatoo. Guns are like an extension of your body, you’d know them like the back of your hand.
Barehanded – Dust taverns of thugs without spilling your drink, knock bulls out with a headbutt and legs that qualify as anti-infantry weaponry. Weapons that can never be taken away.
Indirect – Poisons, beartraps, rockfalls, tripwires, cut brakes or good old C4. You specialise in hitting them when you can't see them, and always make it look like an accident.
Melee – An odd choice in today's world, but you can master a school of a common weapon, such as a staff or a sword, or become deadly in a more exotic contraption, such as the umbrella or the whip-chain-flail-scythe.
Society – Sometimes a light touch is needed. You have ample practice of finding catspaws, inciting suicides, or escalate a quarrel into something more homicidal. A subtle skill, a subtle kill.

Assassination Classroom (TB)

World Class Assassin (600cp, Discount Sensei) - You're an assassin by profession, which means you're really good at killing people. Choose a preferred assassination method such as Long Ranged, Close Ranged, or Seduction. In your field you're in the top ranking assassins within that field. This can be taken twice.

SpyxFamily

Garden Graduate (600 CP/Discount Assassin): You are extremely skilled when it comes to killing people. You have enough endurance, reflexes, and speed to easily handle a dozen thugs in order to get to your target. You also gain an equal skill in protecting others, turning your assassination knowledge toward becoming an ideal bodyguard that can protect someone from dozens of assassins. This also comes with mastery of a fighting style of your choice and allows you to pick up new martial arts in half the time.

Yakuza 0

400 CP: Archnemesis. Tact, poise, professionalism. All traits ideal to a hired gun, or more accurately, an assassin. You're an expert in various fields, from unarmed combat to needles to swords to firearms. And your agility is through the roof, making you the equal of the finest free-runners in the world. This won't make you a master in the same way an Upgraded Style could, but knowing a little of everything at a solid level will make you a scary threat even to those who possess that level of prowess.

Jedi Fallen OrdeSurvivor

400 - Assassin: You are a deadly assassin, feared and respected by those who know of your skills. You are a master of multiple combat styles and weapons, and your stealth and agility allow you to strike from the shadows with deadly precision. You have been trained in the ways of ancient and deadly arts, perhaps by an Assassins’ Guild or some other organization, and you use your knowledge to eliminate your targets with ruthless efficiency. Your services are highly sought-after in the galaxy, and you could easily enough credits to live in luxury for the rest of your life.

And basically the entire Hitman perk tree in Hitman: The Series
What else do you know of?

History shows how to stave it off.
https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2023/06/us-societal-trends-institutional-trust-economy/674260/
How has America slid into its current age of discord? Why has our trust in institutions collapsed, and why have our democratic norms unraveled?
All human societies experience recurrent waves of political crisis, such as the one we face today. My research team built a database of hundreds of societies across 10,000 years to try to find out what causes them. We examined dozens of variables, including population numbers, measures of well-being, forms of governance, and the frequency with which rulers are overthrown. We found that the precise mix of events that leads to crisis varies, but two drivers of instability loom large. The first is popular immiseration—when the economic fortunes of broad swaths of a population decline. The second, and more significant, is elite overproduction—when a society produces too many superrich and ultra-educated people, and not enough elite positions to satisfy their ambitions.
These forces have played a key role in our current crisis. In the past 50 years, despite overall economic growth, the quality of life for most Americans has declined. The wealthy have become wealthier, while the incomes and wages of the median American family have stagnated. As a result, our social pyramid has become top-heavy. At the same time, the U.S. began overproducing graduates with advanced degrees. More and more people aspiring to positions of power began fighting over a relatively fixed number of spots. The competition among them has corroded the social norms and institutions that govern society.
The U.S. has gone through this twice before. The first time ended in civil war. But the second led to a period of unusually broad-based prosperity. Both offer lessons about today’s dysfunction and, more important, how to fix it.
To understand the root causes of the current crisis, let’s start by looking at how the number of über-wealthy Americans has grown. Back in 1983, 66,000 American households were worth at least $10 million. That may sound like a lot, but by 2019, controlling for inflation, the number had increased tenfold. A similar, if smaller, upsurge happened lower on the food chain. The number of households worth $5 million or more increased sevenfold, and the number of mere millionaires went up fourfold.
On its surface, having more wealthy people doesn’t sound like such a bad thing. But at whose expense did elites’ wealth swell in recent years?
Starting in the 1970s, although the overall economy continued to grow, the share of that growth going to average workers began to shrink, and real wages leveled off. (It’s no coincidence that Americans’ average height—a useful proxy for well-being, economic and otherwise—stopped increasing around then too, even as average heights in much of Europe continued climbing.) By 2010, the relative wage (wage divided by GDP per capita) of an unskilled worker had nearly halved compared with mid-century. For the 64 percent of Americans who didn’t have a four-year college degree, real wages shrank in the 40 years before 2016.
As wages diminished, the costs of owning a home and going to college soared. To afford an average house, a worker earning the median wage in 2016 had to log 40 percent more hours than she would have in 1976. And parents without a college degree had to work four times longer to pay for their children’s college.
Even college-educated Americans aren’t doing well across the board. They made out well in the 1950s, when fewer than 15 percent of 18-to-24-year-olds went to college, but not today, when more than 60 percent of high-school grads immediately enroll. To get ahead of the competition, more college graduates have sought out advanced degrees. From 1955 to 1975, the number of students enrolled in law school tripled, and from 1960 to 1970, the number of doctorate degrees granted at U.S. universities more than tripled. This was manageable in the post–World War II period, when the number of professions requiring advanced degrees shot up. But when the demand eventually subsided, the supply didn’t. By the 2000s, degree holders greatly outnumbered the positions available to them. The imbalance is most acute in the social sciences and humanities, but the U.S. hugely overproduces degrees even in STEM fields.
This is part of a broader trend. Compared with 50 years ago, far more Americans today have either the financial means or the academic credentials to pursue positions of power, especially in politics. But the number of those positions hasn’t increased, which has led to fierce competition.
Competition is healthy for society, in moderation. But the competition we are witnessing among America’s elites has been anything but moderate. It has created very few winners and masses of resentful losers. It has brought out the dark side of meritocracy, encouraging rule-breaking instead of hard work.
All of this has left us with a large and growing class of frustrated elite aspirants, and a large and growing class of workers who can’t make better lives for themselves.
The decades that have led to our present-day dysfunction share important similarities with the decades leading to the Civil War. Then as now, a growing economy served to make the rich richer and the poor poorer. The number of millionaires per capita quadrupled from 1800 to 1850, while the relative wage declined by nearly 50 percent from the 1820s to the 1860s, just as it has in recent decades. Biological data from the time suggest that the average American’s quality of life declined significantly. From 1830 to the end of the century, the average height of Americans fell by nearly two inches, and average life expectancy at age 10 decreased by eight years during approximately the same period.
This popular immiseration stirred up social strife, which could be seen in urban riots. From 1820 to 1825, when times were good, only one riot occurred in which at least one person was killed. But in the five years before the Civil War, 1855 to 1860, American cities experienced no fewer than 38 such riots. We see a similar pattern today. In the run-up to the Civil War, this frustration manifested politically, in part as anti-immigrant populism, epitomized by the Know-Nothing Party. Today this strain of populism has been resurrected by Donald Trump.
Strife grew among elites too. The newly minted millionaires of the 19th century, who made their money in manufacturing rather than through plantations or overseas trade, chafed under the rule of the southern aristocracy, as their economic interests diverged. To protect their budding industries, the new elites favored high tariffs and state support for infrastructure projects. The established elites—who grew and exported cotton, and imported manufactured goods from overseas—strongly opposed these measures. The southern slaveholders’ grip on the federal government, the new elites argued, prevented necessary reforms in the banking and transportation systems, which threatened their economic well-being.
As the elite class expanded, the supply of desirable government posts flattened. Although the number of U.S. representatives grew fourfold from 1789 to 1835, it had shrunk by mid-century, just as more and more elite aspirants received legal training—then, as now, the chief route to political office. Competition for political power intensified, as it has today.
Those were cruder times, and intra-elite conflict took very violent forms. In Congress, incidences and threats of violence peaked in the 1850s. The brutal caning that Representative Preston Brooks of South Carolina gave to Senator Charles Sumner of Massachusetts on the Senate floor in 1856 is the best-known such episode, but it was not the only one. In 1842, after Representative Thomas Arnold of Tennessee “reprimanded a pro-slavery member of his own party, two Southern Democrats stalked toward him, at least one of whom was armed with a bowie knife,” the historian Joanne Freeman recounts. In 1850, Senator Henry Foote of Mississippi pulled a pistol on Senator Thomas Hart Benton of Missouri. In another bitter debate, a pistol fell out of a New York representative’s pocket, nearly precipitating a shoot-out on the floor of Congress.
This intra-elite violence presaged popular violence, and the deadliest conflict in American history.
The victory of the North in the Civil War decimated the wealth and power of the southern ruling class, temporarily reversing the problem of elite overproduction. But workers’ wages continued to lag behind overall economic growth, and the “wealth pump” that redistributed their income to the elites never stopped. By the late 19th century, elite overproduction was back, new millionaires had replaced the defeated slave-owning class, and America had entered the Gilded Age. Economic inequality exploded, eventually peaking in the early 20th century. By 1912, the nation’s top wealth holder, John D. Rockefeller, had $1 billion, the equivalent of 2.6 million annual wages—100 times higher than the top wealth holder had in 1790.
Then came the New York Stock Exchange collapse of 1929 and the Great Depression, which had a similar effect as the Civil War: Thousands of economic elites were plunged into the commoner class. In 1925, there were 1,600 millionaires, but by 1950, fewer than 900 remained. The size of America’s top fortune remained stuck at $1 billion for decades, inflation notwithstanding. By 1982, the richest American had $2 billion, which was equivalent to “only” 93,000 annual wages.
But here is where the two eras differed. Unlike the post–Civil War period, real wages steadily grew in the mid-20th century. And high taxes on the richest Americans helped reverse the wealth pump. The tax rate on top incomes, which peaked during World War II at 94 percent, stayed above 90 percent all the way until the mid-1960s. Height increased by a whopping 3 inches in roughly the first half of the 20th century. Life expectancy at age 10 increased by nearly a decade. By the 1960s, America had achieved a broad-based prosperity that was virtually unprecedented in human history.
The New Deal elites learned an important lesson from the disaster of the Civil War. The reversal of elite overproduction in both eras was similar in magnitude, but only after the Great Depression was it accomplished through entirely nonviolent means. The ruling class itself was an important part of this—or, at least, a prosocial faction of the ruling class, which persuaded enough of their peers to acquiesce to the era’s progressive reforms.
As the historian Kim Phillips-Fein wrote in Invisible Hands, executives and stockholders mounted an enormous resistance to the New Deal policies regulating labor–corporate relations. But by mid-century, a sufficient number of them had consented to the new economic order for it to become entrenched. They bargained regularly with labor unions. They accepted the idea that the state would have a role to play in guiding economic life and helping the nation cope with downturns. In 1943, the president of the U.S. Chamber of Commerce—which today pushes for the most extreme forms of neoliberal market fundamentalism—said, “Only the willfully blind can fail to see that the old-style capitalism of a primitive, free-shooting period is gone forever.” President Dwight Eisenhower, considered a fiscal conservative for his time, wrote to his brother:
Should any political party attempt to abolish social security, unemployment insurance, and eliminate labor laws and farm programs, you would not hear of that party again in our political history. There is a tiny splinter group, of course, that believes you can do these things … Their number is negligible and they are stupid.
Barry Goldwater ran against Lyndon Johnson in 1964 on a platform of low taxes and anti-­union rhetoric. By today’s standards, Goldwater was a middle-of-the-road conservative. But he was regarded as radical at the time, too radical even for many business leaders, who abandoned his campaign and helped bring about his landslide defeat.
The foundations of this broad-based postwar prosperity—and for the ruling elite’s eventual acquiescence to it—were established during the Progressive era and buttressed by the New Deal. In particular, new legislation guaranteed unions’ right to collective bargaining, introduced a minimum wage, and established Social Security. American elites entered into a “fragile, unwritten compact” with the working classes, as the United Auto Workers president Douglas Fraser later described it. This implicit contract included the promise that the fruits of economic growth would be distributed more equitably among both workers and owners. In return, the fundamentals of the political-economic system would not be challenged. Avoiding revolution was one of the most important reasons for this compact (although not the only one). As Fraser wrote in his famous resignation letter from the Labor Management Group in 1978, when the compact was about to be abandoned, “The acceptance of the labor movement, such as it has been, came because business feared the alternatives.”
We are still suffering the consequences of abandoning that compact. The long history of human society compiled in our database suggests that America’s current economy is so lucrative for the ruling elites that achieving fundamental reform might require a violent revolution. But we have reason for hope. It is not unprecedented for a ruling class—with adequate pressure from below—to allow for the nonviolent reversal of elite overproduction. But such an outcome requires elites to sacrifice their near-term self-interest for our long-term collective interests. At the moment, they don’t seem prepared to do that.

I suffer from really shitty, debilitating migraines that stem from things such as too much humidity and heat and lack of hydration/food. I haven’t had any issues with my migraines lately but this is my 3rd month driving for a DSP and feeling like I’m getting a migraine today from the heat (93 degrees here). Keep taking small breaks in my van that has no AC and drinking water but feeling super nauseous and light headed. Anyone else get migraines and know how to avoid them or keep them at bay on super hot days delivering in the sun all day? Once had a migraine last 28 days and I couldn’t even get out of bed, ended up in the ER and had to see a neurologist bc of it, and even ended up losing my job and don’t want that to happen again 🥵

Hear me out: I am not undermining all the negative aspects of ADHD or the issues that ADHD causes in day-to-day life. However, there are benefits:
I have not had the easiest life in that. A lot of people I was close to died in very horrific ways. There were times that I couldn't eat and pay rent. Now, I have some medical issues that aren't making me too happy.
The benefit of ADHD from the: out-of-sight-out-of-mind, staying calm, and hyperfocus on things that interest me have gotten me to where I am today. The deaths were obviously hard, and they still affect me to this day. I broke down and cried in class, at work, in the carpool to and from class, at the bar, in the movie theater, on planes, etc. That's how death is. I say this so there is not a misunderstanding of people thinking I just forgot about my dead friends. I did not.
But, I think my ADHD acted as a benefit to help me continue going in my life. I could still focus on things that interested me, and in those moments, I could forget about the dead. That's how I survived. And, that's how I made it through school - because I wanted to focus on my studies instead of seeing the news reports about my dead friend from the latest school shooting. Or about their suicides, overdoses, accidents...(I have a lot of dead friends).
Now, I am going through it with some medical bs. Everything from, "is this cancer?" to bad doctors, to me bargaining that all my ailments are caused by parasites because at least that's curable. I'm straight up not having a good time. I cried, I was depressed (for 3 days), and I let out a few dinosaur roars . . .
But, again, something that interests me is in front of me. So, I'm doing my job, I'm getting things done. I'm not constantly sad about it because I'm focused on reading peer-reviewed medical journals, getting second opinions, and attending pre-med seminars to get a base understanding of what tf is happening to me.
Not to mention how often my ability to stay calm and thrive in times of volatility have served me. Hell, it's saved my life a few times.
I don't think the ADHDers' ability to navigate trauma is studied or understood. But, I do know that compared to my "normal" counterparts, I seem to navigate these waters a lot more successfully. To be honest, if I had to raw-dog my life without my brain's ADHD "affliction," I would not have made it this far.
In conclusion of my accidental-essay: That's why I think my ADHD has been a benefit to me.

I know there are so many posts about drivers from Mass but today on I-93 every single driver was from Mass and passing people on the right and just being douche bags in general. For context I hate doing the speed limit so 78-80 is usually what I do on I-93 on my way home to Laconia. Today I had adaptive cruise control set at 80. I had Massholes up my ass the entire drive trying to go 90+. Shoutout the NH dude in the brand new Chevy Colorado who helped block the rig by lane so they were limited to 80 mph for awhile. Just needed to rant because they ruin the roads on weekends.

Today my pet spider Sheila died.
I never expected to have a pet spider mind you. Never had more interest in them than as a fun video game monster really. She became my pet be accident, and through it taught me a mountain of respect for spiders.
Sheila moved into our kitchen last October. She was a cross orb weaver, and built enormous and beautiful webs in the corner above our sink. "Pumpkin Spiders" are very common here in the pacific northwest in fall. We made a joke that Sheila was free bonus Halloween décor, and I made a promise that if she stuck to her corner, I wouldn't bother her.
Sheila stayed right there her whole life, 8 months. It became obvious fast she wouldn't roam. I was surprised by how reliably she stuck to her home spot. Eventually I felt responsibility to her, as I had chosen not to release her, so I began using a mister to make sure she got moisture, and started tossing pet store meal worms in her web, which she seemed to love. I feel like I built as much of a relationship as a person can have with a spider. Had coffee talks, I even arranged for her to be fed when I left on vacation!
I know after research that Orb Weavers die after mating and laying eggs, but Sheila never had access to mates, so she lived well past the winter die off, all the way to spring. She had a wonderful sunrise view from her kitchen window. By the end she was the definitely the biggest orb weaver I'd seen, and her colors had silvered and grayed with age. As she aged she would update webs less frequently, leaving smaller webs up for longer. Where I used to be able to toss meal worms AT the web, I began to use tweezers to place them on her frailer constructions. I think I did right by her care.
Today though, was very hard. Her passing would have been sad, but even worse it was an accident by me that got her. For the first time ever she wasn't above her web, and I started frantically looking around the sink to see if she'd fallen. She had, but had made it onto the counter, and then onto my shirt. I only noticed when she was half way up my torso. It spooked me and I popped my shirt to knock her off instinctually. Had to put her down after that. Writing this through tears.
I wish the one time I got to touch her, the one time I got to see her up close, didn't have to be like every other time I've run into a spider.
I love you Sheila. I'm sorry. For the rest of my life, I will always catch and release orb weavers, and the one's outside are gonna be getting some bonus mealworms.
For Sheila

Today my pet spider Sheila died.
I never expected to have a pet spider mind you. Never had more interest in them than as a fun video game monster really. She became my pet be accident, and through it taught me a mountain of respect for spiders.
Sheila moved into our kitchen last October. She was a cross orb weaver, and built enormous and beautiful webs in the corner above our sink. "Pumpkin Spiders" are very common here in the pacific northwest in fall. We made a joke that Sheila was free bonus Halloween décor, and I made a promise that if she stuck to her corner, I wouldn't bother her.
Sheila stayed right there her whole life, 8 months. It became obvious fast she wouldn't roam. I was surprised by how reliably she stuck to her home spot. Eventually I felt responsibility to her, as I had chosen not to release her, so I began using a mister to make sure she got moisture, and started tossing pet store meal worms in her web, which she seemed to love. I feel like I built as much of a relationship as a person can have with a spider. Had coffee talks, I even arranged for her to be fed when I left on vacation!
I know after research that Orb Weavers die after mating and laying eggs, but Sheila never had access to mates, so she lived well past the winter die off, all the way to spring. She had a wonderful sunrise view from her kitchen window. By the end she was the definitely the biggest orb weaver I'd seen, and her colors had silvered and grayed with age. As she aged she would update webs less frequently, leaving smaller webs up for longer. Where I used to be able to toss meal worms AT the web, I began to use tweezers to place them on her frailer constructions. I think I did right by her care.
Today though, was very hard. Her passing would have been sad, but even worse it was an accident by me that got her. For the first time ever she wasn't above her web, and I started frantically looking around the sink to see if she'd fallen. She had, but had made it onto the counter, and then onto my shirt. I only noticed when she was half way up my torso. It spooked me and I popped my shirt to knock her off instinctually. Had to put her down after that. Writing this through tears.
I wish the one time I got to touch her, the one time I got to see her up close, didn't have to be like every other time I've run into a spider.
I love you Sheila. I'm sorry. For the rest of my life, I will always catch and release orb weavers, and the one's outside are gonna be getting some bonus mealworms.
For Sheila

To preface this, I fancy myself as a behaviorist. A cursory look at my post history will tell you as much.
But I'm here for objective responses.
Today, I realised the extent of my dogs obsessive behavior.
A little over a year ago, my dog swallowed a ball. My heart wants to believe it was an accident. Here are the cliff notes of the situation as I see it today:
Option 1(My heart)

• My dog was playing keep away with a ball with another dog
  
• To escape other dog, my dog went under a bed. (in my heart, I should have intervened before this happened)
  
• The bed was low, so he got stuck and got a shock.
  
• The shock made him swallow the ball. I only know because he yelped really effing loud.
  
• 4 days later he vomited thrice in a row and the x-ray revealed ball in stomach. My wife insisted on the xray. The vet was willing to wait and watch.
  

We correlated the two incidents after the fact.
Option 2: My brain
My brain says he became ball obsessed because we really built it up with fetch. Swallowing the ball was just a wake up call. We just didn't know about it and chalked it up to "him being a dog"
Since then we have kept balls that are smaller than his mouth away from him. He doesn't care for them anymore. I mean, even if you build it up. He will bring it back but seems almost like a favor.
Reality.
Today however was different. Here's the behaviour I observed:
He dug up a hidden ball in the yard at the new place we are staying.
When I went to retrieve it, he growled at me.
I traded it in for chicken.
We threw the ball in the bin. He found it.
We hid the bin and discarded the ball in another bin
He obsessed about finding the ball for a good 45 mins before he slept.
He woke up after a brief nap and went straight to the new bin.
Ive never seen this before. It almost seemed like after his sleep he was able to really hone in on where the call was. Like he dreamt about it and saw the truth.
That growl, it was only the third time he ever growled at me. All 3 growls in the past 3 months.
Once with a bone. Stopped that.
Once with a sock. He's eaten two since then.(Edit for clarification - He's only eaten them when someone was visiting and it's custom to remove your shoes and socks at the door. He gets overstimulated with new people and I think this causes this behaviour). We have discontinued this and have seen no incidents since. I left socks lying about accidentally after that but have always been able to trade it in. We also have guests over once every 2 months..so figured we could manage it when people come over. It's not ideal, but we are diligent about people keeping their shoes on since the incident)
And now with the ball.
I ALWAYS trade. ALWAYS.
But this one has me stumped. He literally dug up a ball and tried to hide it from me and growled at me.
If you know this dog at all, this is alarming.
My wife thinks I should let him have as many balls as he wants to devalue it. I sort of agree.
But having a resource guarder is terrible for quality of life. I had one. She was my life but damn life wasn't easy. Keeping shit away solved the problems.
I thought I could manage the situation away but apparently in a cricket loving nation, balls are fucking everywhere. Exactly the type my dog likes.
My dog is a labrador, not netuered and 3 yrs old.
What would you do? Which way would you swing? What would you do if you were me at this point in time and in this context?

... on the second day of our first holiday together. We are both fine-ish. A pick-up did a very risky take over and hit us as I was veering slightly (well within my lane) to avoid another motorbike coming out.
She just got a big scratch on her knee, I got done a bit dirtier... Nothing broken luckily but all my left side pretty badly scratched.
I feel extremely guilty putting my girlfriend through this... She got very scared with this whole ordeal, might get a bad scar because of it, plus now I can't move much so our holidays are pretty much ruined.
I can't help thinking of the what ifs... If I had lost her to this I don't think I'd be able to live with myself... Even if she had broken something I wouldn't forgive myself, I'm struggling to already as things are.
I don't know how to make it up to her.
I can't tell to my family, my brother is having surgery next week and my mom does not need this, with me so far from home. That adds to the guilt.
Plus I'm a superficial mf who worries a lot by looks and I can't stand looking at my left side now, or thinking about the marks this would leave, also on her knee... so I'm a bit of a mess, but like I don't want to tell nobody and I don't want to make things complicated for my gf either being a crybaby. Can't help going through it over and over, what I could have done, and everything that could have happened.
Just needed it off my chest.

He moved everything in and built all my furniture. He left and called me that night saying he had a great time and that he wanted to see me again to talk. A few days later, we talked and he told me that he loved me, that he doesn’t want to be with anyone else and he can’t get me out of his mind. That he tried to see someone else but that he told her that it wasn’t going to work out because he still was in love with me and that there’s no one else for him. He asked if we could try again, and how could I say no? I loved this man. No matter how much I tried to forget him I couldn’t get him out of my mind either. We started seeing each other again and everything was going well for about a month until he started being unresponsive to my texts.
We had plans that weekend that I had made specially for him and he canceled the day before with no explanation. I was upset, and I started cleaning my apartment (I clean when I’m sad/mad/anxious) and got to the bathroom, and saw a box of tampons, and realized I hadn’t gotten my period. So I ran to the pharmacy across the street…and you guessed it, I was pregnant. I was a wreck. I was still reeling from the trauma of being disowned by my family, trying to pick my life back up, starting a new job, and figuring out my relationship. He had just started medical school and I didn’t want to get in the way of that.
I cried for a good hour and then called him. I asked him to come over because I needed to discuss something important with him. He was reluctant to come at first but after pleading with him about it being an emergency he eventually came. It took me a while because I was still in shock and I was scared but I told him I was pregnant. Turns out he found out the day before that the girl he slept with to get over me was pregnant too. Long story short, he walked out after I still wanted to work things out because despite everything, it was an accident, we were broken up when it happened and we still loved each other. Neither of us went through with our pregnancies. Admittedly mine went on longer than I wish it did because of my trauma and things being shut down due to covid, but my fiancé did the best that any person could and was supportive and kind and apologetic to both parties. All while being in medical school (idk how he did it). We both went to therapy and overcame everything and have built a life together and are engaged to be married. I have a life, a family, and a home with this man. I love him, but I recently found out after he finally came clean, that he had actually cheated on me with that woman 3 years ago, a week before he had broken up with me. I always had a sinking feeling in my heart over the years that that was the case but he was always adamant that it never happened, that he had slept with her only after he broke up with me.
I was grateful that he was honest with me and vulnerable about his mistakes and he already beat himself up enough for almost two years afterwards, always thinking that he didn’t deserve me. Was always really hard on himself. He wasn’t as ready to move forward in our relationship as I was . I just thought he was being complacent and not wanting to move to the next step.
I have a great job and have been supporting him through school and am happy to do so because I love him. He’s now done with school and stepping into his career. It was a long and tough road, but we made it. We got engaged last year and I was the happiest I’ve ever been, I was so excited about our future and finally being able to move forward and have a family with him, but knowing that he cheated on me and put himself in a position to do that in the first place is shocking to me. Those are not the actions of the man I have known for 7 years. For him to know the intense trauma that I was going through and what I was sacrificing/have sacrificed for us to be together and for him to cheat on me while telling me how much he loves me and wants me to be there and beg me to leave to be with him, how could he also have a part of him that would sleep with someone else at the same time? What kind of a person does that? My mind can’t wrap itself around it. To know someone’s intentions and allow them to be around? To feed into it and allow boundaries to be crossed? It just doesn’t make sense to me. He was depressed and wasn’t himself at all at the time. He felt helpless and hopeless in our relationship then and was past his limit. I do understand what he was going through on the other side and he regrets it and wishes he could’ve done things differently. He has so much remorse. I know he would never do it again. He has learned, and grown and matured. He’s a very different person now, and we have a very different relationship. There’s just a part of me that thinks that I can’t look at him the same after he confessed everything to me. We’re supposed to get married in two weeks and I just don’t know if I’m doing the right thing anymore. I am emotionally mature enough to be understanding and love him for being honest but I feel as if I’d be stupid if I didn’t question my feelings anymore. At first I was so at peace and loved him more than I ever have for being so vulnerable and honest and patient and self aware to have this conversation with me even though it made him upset and uncomfortable. He stayed calm though visibly sad and uncomfortable about his actions in the past. He knows how I feel about infidelity and I know he was scared to tell me so he wouldn’t lose me again, but I feel like it was manipulative and cowardly to keep that from me, especially if I was supposed to be his wife. I sit up at night wondering if I could truly love someone who could do this to me and wait 3 years (and 2 weeks before our wedding) to finally be honest to me about it. And knowing that the only reason why I know right now is because I asked him to be honest about everything because I don’t want to go into our marriage without fully knowing about what happened and laying those lingering feelings to rest. I want to go in with a full and happy heart. Part of me feels at peace but the other part is torn up. I’m so confused that I’m questing whether I’m still in love with this man. For who he is today and not who he was. I am a very forgiving person and I don’t judge people on their mistakes. No one is perfect, what is alarming to me is how it happened and questioning how he could have conflicting words and actions and how long it took him to be honest with me. It’s alarming that he could keep something like this from me for so long.

Ben had never thought that he would ever be a cat dad, not since he saw his own father run over his cat when he was only five. But yesterday, history almost repeated itself when he almost ran over two stray kittens while driving himself home from the graduation ceremony.
It had happened only a few hours ago - despite the fact that in an attempt to impress his dad, who was in the passenger seat, he had tried to be extra precise while backing out of his parking spot, he missed a little something in his way.
However, before the disaster could happen, a shrill scream made him slam the brakes.
"STOP! You'll run over them, STOP!"
Shira?
He jumped out the car and ran to the back, to find Shira looking slightly wary of a cardboard box near one of his back wheels. Inside the box were two kittens.
"BEN!" she shrieked on seeing him, her arms flailing in an almost comical way, "You almost killed them!"
Ben picked up the box, and noticed that there was a small slip of paper inside it.
"You should be more mindful of how you treat animals, Ben! We're supposed to share the planet with them, not-"
"Here, hold it for a moment" he interrupted, holding out the box for her to take.
She did not comply. Instead, she scooted away with a scared look on her face.
It took every last ounce of resilience inside Ben to not roll his eyes. Here she was, lecturing him about being 'mindful' with animals, when she was too disgusted to hold a box with two tiny, malnourished sleeping kittens.
Balancing the box in one hand, he pulled out the slip of paper and opened it.
"Take care of them, please" it read.
Take care of them. Hm. Someone left them here to be found.
After a moment of pondering, he made his decision.
"I'll take them to a shelter." he told Shira, opening the car door to put the two kittens inside.
"Wait!" Shira exclaimed, pulling out her phone and positioning herself as if to take a selfie.
"Shira, I'm really not in the mood to-" Ben began protesting, but the sound her phone made told him she had refused to listen to him. She skipped away, typing what he was sure was a story about how she saved two innocent kittens.
Her followers will like that, for sure.
Still, I'm rescuing two kittens from certain death. That's a good deed.
His good deed, however, remained unfinished, because the shelter did not have any space for cats and could not take in the two kittens. Ben was forced to take the kittens home, with the reassurance that his dad would find a place for them somewhere else.
And now here he was, having cleaned and fed them with Patty, trying to figure out what variety they were while shovelling spahgetti into his mouth.
"Oh, Ben! My sweet boy has graduated!" a saccharine voice suddenly spoke.
His mother.
Vivian Gross, unlike his dad, had chosen to be absent from his graduation ceremony, where he and Devi had jointly recieved the title of valedictorian. His dad had hugged him tightly and exclaimed how proud he was of his son with tears in his eyes. Ben knew he would remember that moment and smile till the day he died, he would be forever grateful for it, but it didn't quite erase the truth - he had expected his mother to show up. This was not a PTA meeting, not a debate tournament, not a club presentation - he has graduated high school. This was important. Today, for one day, he was important.
Apparently not important enough for his mother to abandon her regenerative healing spa appointment.
He did not want to admit it, but a sinking weight had appeared in his chest when his dad had informed him that his mom wasn't coming at all, and it had only dulled slightly since then. On hearing her voice, the weight re-appeared with full force. She pulled out a chair and sat beside him at the dinner table.
"No phone! Be respectful when your mother wants to talk to you, alright?"
Ben immediately put his phone down.
"So, have you thought about college, honey? Where would you like to go?"
Ben tried his best to not let the sheer disbelief show on his face. After all, 3he should have seen this coming.
"Uh, yeah, I - I applied to Columbia. The acceptance letter arrived two months ago. I got in. I'm pretty sure I told both you and dad?"
"You did? Oh, I must have forgotten! Typical me, forgetting things all the time."
It isn't normal to forget what ivy league your son got int- no, no Ben, don't be ungrateful. Don't say anything.
Well, I'm not being ungrateful here. She should've known this.
Before Ben could decide whether or not to convey his true feelings on the matter, Vivian cut the conversation short by pulling her phone out of her purse and beginning to scroll through it. Whether she ignored or didn't hear his scoff, he did not know.
After some time, she spoke up again.
"Oh, you and your girlfriend rescued kittens today? That's so nice!"
"My girlfriend?"
"Shira! She's your girlfriend, isn't she? I'm one of her followers! Very sweet girl, understands the importance of self-care very well."
He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out for a bit.
"Mum" he began, drawing a deep breath and trying to control the quiver in his voice "Shira and I broke up two years ago, in sophomore year."
You'd know that if you knew anything.
"Huh? Oh! So you haven't had a girlfriend since?"
"No." he mumbled back, realising it wasn't worth it to explain anything to her. If his mom didn't care enough to know everything that had happened in his life in two years, then he didn't care enough to tell her either.
Ben had always thought the fault was in him. After all, he was richer than most kids in his class, he knew that - he had everything. And yet he felt unhappy. He felt unhappy despite having everything, hence he must be ungrateful.
But he had come to understand he was anything but ungrateful. His dad was the one who was always busy, but he had tried - he had become a better parent. He had been there for Ben. He had showed up.
His mother had chosen not to, and it certainly wasn't his fault. Mothers didn't behave like that - he had met Nalini Vishwakumar. He had to fight the urge to yell some sense into Devi every time she said she hated her mom.
She's ungrateful. I'm not.
This realisation had made him colder towards his mother. He realised it, but was even more hurt by the fact that she didn't notice this at all.
"Well, what did you end up doing with the kittens anyways?"
"The shelter didn't have space for them, so I brought them home. They're in my bedroom. I'll keep them until Dad finds a spot for them." he said.
The silence that followed made him look up from his plate, to find his mother staring back at him with disgust.
"You let stray animals into my house?"
"Stray - what? But you just said it was a nice thing to rescue them!"
"It is! For somebody else! If you wanted a cat we could get you whichever you liked from a breeder!"
"I don't want them! They had been left in the parking lot! They would've died there!"
"They could be diseased, you know."
"They're not. I had them checked and vaccinated at the shelter. There's a veterinary clinic right beside it."
"Still, Ben, get rid of them right away. There will be no random abandoned strays in my house."
Bold words, calling it your house, when you're never in it yourself.
She left the dining room in a huff, mumbling exasperatedly to herself.
Left alone, Ben made a decision. Sure, it was driven by hurt and anger, but he would do it anyways. She hadn't come to his graduation, had she? She hadn't listened to him. Why should he listen to her?
For the first time in his life, Ben Gross was going to disobey his parents. He was going to keep those damn cats.
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Ben woke up the next morning to the sounds of two kittens rolling around and yawning in a box, and realised he was a bit conflicted - taking care of a whole live animal was no joke, especially since he couldn't ask for help from Patty and his dad.
Hiding them from mom isn't really a problem.
The thought of his mother brought back some of the rage he had felt the night before.
He was keeping those kittens, for sure, but for now, he didn't know where to start.
After an hour of research, Ben had a list and a day full of errands to run.
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Why are there so many litter box varieties in this world?
Ben had never known such confusion in his entire life. He was the class valedictorian, had won multiple awards and first place prizes, had gotten into a freaking ivy league, and yet had never faced something so difficult.
In front of him were five tub-like containers - each of a different colour, shape and size. One of them had a transparent lid, another one had a coloured lid, one of them had all these little knobs and buttons on the side, another one had a tag that said 'CAUTION : Be careful of electric wires'
He had angrily told the salesman to leave him alone after the idiot had attempted to sell him seeds for a parakeet, and now he had no one to ask for help.
Or maybe not.
He whipped out his phone and dialled a number.
-----------------------
Ben was regretting his choice.
Paxton had been standing beside him for the past five minutes, brow furrowed and completely silent.
Ben had suddenly realised that he did, indeed, have friends, friends he could ask for help. Only, his friend seemed even more lost and confused than he was.
"I- Wait, does that one say be careful of wires? I thought litter boxes didn't need electricity!"
"So did I! That's why I called you for help!"
"Me? What would I know about this? I've never had a pet!"
"But then why did you agree to help me?"
"Dude, I thought the box was too heavy for you to carry!"
"What's too heavy to carry?"
Trent had showed up out of nowhere, but Ben was somewhat used to him appearing out of thin air.
"Nothing. We can't figure out what to do here, which one of these litter boxes should I buy?
Trent looked at him with confusion. "Bro, you know these are for, like, cats, right? You can't use them."
Ben closed his eyes while Paxton held in a laugh.
"Yes, Trent, I know. I have two kittens at home. This is for them."
"Oh!" Trent said, rolling up his sleeves "Well, none of this fancy shit. What you need is a smart, durable, and simple solution" Spinning around, he called out - "Yo, does anyone here know where the Paw-fect range is?"
A girl in an apron appeared in the aisle, gesturing at them to follow her. She lead them to a different part of the store - a section that seemed entirely dedicated to the company Paw-fect.
An hour later, they were walking out to Ben's car with three large shopping bags.
"Dude, how do you know all this stuff? I mean, you basically told us what varieties of cats there are based on hair length. Where did you find that out?" Paxton asked Trent, not being able to place when precisely Trent had become an expert on cats.
"I spend a lot of time watching commercials on youtube, bro. I know exactly how to look after bunnies and dogs too."
Ben smiled to himself, getting inside the car. He rolled down the window and bid his friends goodbye before driving off towards home.
-------------------------------
A month had passed since that fateful day when he discovered his two beloved pets in that parking lot. Now, a month into the summer, he felt he had become somewhat of an expert cat dad. Well, enough of an expert to be worthy of a 'Best Cat Dad in the World' mug, the purchase and use of which had earned him some inquisitve glances from his father, but no questions.
He had hidden the kittens away inside his room, making sure to keep it locked at all times.
So far he was managing spectacularly. He had told Patty that he would clean his own room from now on, in preparation for college, and she had not discovered the kittens yet. To his dad he had said that the same shelter they had visited on graduation day had found an empty spot and accepted them.
He had developed a routine - everyday when Patty went out for grocery shopping, he would empty the litter boxes, fill up water and cat feed in the dispensers and brush their fur. He had installed a lock on his door, and made sure to leave it locked whenever he went out.
So far, so good. Nobody knew - not his dad, not Patty, and definitely not his mom, who had only been in the house for two days in the entire span.
The doorbell rang, telling him that Paxton and Trent had arrived to meet the cats.
"Oh, welcome! Ben is upstairs!" he heard Patty tell them.
Footsteps got louder and louder till Trent finally burst through his door.
"Where are they? Where are my nieces?"
"Trent, dude, not so loud man!" Ben warned, but he couldn't stop the smile from coming onto his face.
When he had found them, the two kittens had been on the verge of death. Thin and sickly, with dull fur, they barely had any energy at all, and would stay lying around and yawning all day long. Now, Ben had nursed them back to health, and they were happily climbing up their scratching post.
The only complaint he had was how aloof they stayed all the time. They made absolutely no efforts to return his affection and made no effort to get close to him, and bolted any time he tried to pet them.
He would call them ungrateful, but they weren't humans after all. Perhaps this was just how cats behaved.
"So, what are their names?"
Ben looked at Paxton for a moment before realising - he hadn't named them yet.
"You haven't thought of names yet, have you?"
"Uh, no."
"We'll help."
They both sat down on his bed and began gazing at the cats carefully.
This went on for some time. Just before Ben was about to interrupt, Trent finally spoke up.
"The white one is Taylor and the ginger one is Sadie."
On recieving confused looks, he explained further "She reminds me of Taylor Swift and she reminds me of Sadie Sink. Name your kids after great people and they shall become great themselves."
Before Ben could say anything in reply, the cats noticed that they had visitors in the room and bounded towards Trent. Jumping onto him, they began licking his face.
"Hey! They like the names!"
"Well," Ben said, smiling "Taylor and Sadie it is."
The very next morning they had little silver collars with Taylor and Sadie engraved on them, hanging around their necks.
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Ben stood as if ready to tackle, glaring at the white kitten. Taylor glared back - no one would make her take a bath if she did not want to take a bath.
A moment more of glaring, and Ben jumped onto her. Taylor let out a yowl and shot off towards the bed.
"Come back here, you little rascal! Don't get my bed all muddy!"
But Taylor refused to listen. Jumping on the bed, she left her muddy footprints all over the white sheets.
Ben had accidently left the window cracked open the previous day, and the more mischiveous one of his cats had taken the opportunity to escape out into the rain-filled muddy backyard. Ben had been trying to get her to take a bath in his tub ever since, but getting a cat near water was proving to be more difficult than imagined.
"You were fine with soaking around in the rain yesterday - what's the problem with my tub? It's still water!" he exclaimed as she attempted to run away from between his legs.
She was not succesful, however, for in that second Ben bent over and caught her.
She growled again as he held up her little kicking and squirming frame in victory.
That very moment, the door opened, revealing Patty on the other side.
Ben gulped - he had forgotten to lock the door.
"I can explain-" he began, but he was cut short.
"Oh little prince, did you really think you could keep a cat in this house for two whole months without telling me? Who do you think kept them clean this whole time? Come one, hand them over, I will give them both a bath."
Shocked, Ben handed Taylor over to her.
"Does-does Dad know?"
"Of course! He really liked your 'Best Cat Dad Ever' mug."
As Patty took the kittens away, Ben smiled to himself. So his dad did know him well enough to know his secrets after all.
-----------------------------------------
The news had put a damper in an otherwise splendid morning.
Ben had grown out of wanting his mother to return home. Now, he didn't feel anything but frustration when she was around, didn't wish for anything but for her to leave. It was better when she was away.
But that morning Patty had told him that she would be returning home for a whole week.
Way to ruin a boy's day.
He was shuffling about his room, reluctantly trying to find his jacket so he could go out and buy something nice for his mother.
Ever since the reveal that both Patty and his father were well aware of his pets, Ben had let them run free in the house. The very first day the two had run across the hall while he was they were eating breakfast, and his father had simply smiled in response.
Now he headed downstairs, calling out to them, but neither of them appeared.
Shrugging it off, he left for the grocery store. A box of chocolates would do nicely, he thought.
------------------------
Ben returned home to chaos.
His mother was apprently screaming at someone in the living room.
As he got closer, he could make out the words more clearly.
"How could you let those...those creatures stay in our house Howard? He picked them off the street!"
Of course, the very first thing she did after returning home was berating his pets. Anger bubbled up inside him, but he pushed it back down and entered the room smiling. His father was sitting on the couch, massaging his temples, while Vivian stood in front of him.
"Mom, you're back! I got you chocolates." he said, trying his best to fake happiness, holding out the box.
His mom didn't take it, and instead crossed her arms and glared at him.
"Ben, I told you to get rid of those cats."
"You did."
"But you didn't listen to me! They were in my house! I went to the fridge to get myself water and I found them rolling around on the kitchen floor!"
Ben paused for a moment.
"I wanted to keep them."
"I don't care! I told you to get rid of them! You have to listen to me, I AM YOUR MOTHER!"
Well, it's not like you ever behave like a mother.
"What did you just say?"
Did I say that out loud?
"What did you just say, you ungrateful brat?"
That was what did it. Something inside Ben's chest shattered into pieces. His eyes filled up with tears as he stared straight at his mother, having waited far too long to say what he needed to be said.
"I SAID, you never behave like a mother! You didn't show up to your only son's graduation ceremony, you didn't know that I got admitted into a ivy league, hell , you didn't even know who my girlfriend was! THAT IS NOT HOW MOTHERS BEHAVE! If only you actually had time left for me after all your retreats and spas and treatments, maybe you would realise you know nothing about me!"
Ben did not wait to find out her reaction. He did not turn around to face his dad who was calling his name. He did not look at Patty. He simply bolted up the stairs to his own room.
Locking the door, he jumped onto his bed with shoes still on, and buried himself under the covers. Trying his best to not let the tears fall, he tried to call his cats.
"Taylor? Sadie? Are you there? Taylor?"
Not one peep. They weren't here either.
For the first time in a long time, Ben felt absolutely alone. He had his dad, he had his friends, but he had never had a mom. She was right there, down the stairs, the woman who had given birth to him, but he had never had a mom. And for whatever reason, that was enough to make him feel the way he did.
He lay quietly for some time, not letting a single tear or a single sound escape. He refused to cry.
Suddenly, he felt something weighing down the bed beside him.
Taylor and Sadie both made their way underneath the blanket, finally lying down right beside Ben.
He turned to his side and tried to pat Taylor's fur. He gently touched her with his hand, afraid that she would run away any moment.
But she didn't. Instead, she let out a content purr and curled up into an even smaller ball of fur.
They were here. They were here with him.
He could not hold back the tears any more. But even through the sobs, he began to smile.
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"Take good care of them Patty!" Ben called to his housekeeper as he hugged both of his cats one last time.
"I'll be back for Thanksgiving and Christmas, alright?"
He finally got up to leave when Patty began hounding him about being late to the airport.
He got into the passenger seat beside his dad.
His mom hadn't spoken to him since his outburst that day. He had tried to get a hold of her, but had always come out empty handed.
Still, having let all of it out had left him feeling lighter than ever. This time, he noticed, he didn't really care about his mother's absence.
"I left all the instructions for food and water on a checklist on my desk. Vet visits every month, and -"
"Ben, relax, we got this. You're going to college, be excited."
Ben smiled and looked out the window one last time as the car started, at the two little fur balls that he had come across by accident, who had ended up claiming rather large pieces of his heart.
What's more, they had ended up healing large parts of it as well.
"Yeah, I'm so excited." he said, looking at the road ahead.
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Author's Note : I am so sorry for being SO LATE, but I have an excuse - I kept deleting and re-writing over and over again because this is the first time I'm showing something I've written to someone else. I'll be doing the other two prompts over the next two days as well.
Well, this ended up being sappier than I had thought earlier! Anyways, I always appreciate constructive criticism, but please be kind.
Thank you for reading!
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This one analysis is a repost of an old post that was deleted. Feel free to criticize. Any error is due that english isn´t my first language. Enjoy.
I believe that constitutional monarchist is the best path for monarchy available today. I had flirted sometimes with absolutism, but i have to say: it doesn't work, not only beacause of the disastrous consequences of unlimited power have in someone( and the history shows this, from the mesopotamian kings to the roman emperors, the most unlimited power someone have, more he will be corrupted by this), but by a sociological necessity, that, at any time, some force to counter the power of the ruler will emerge, being this right to rebellion, powerfull oligarchicies or even his own family, any of this can unbalance the equlibrium of power and, as Moldbug formulated this, formal limits are better than informal ones.
I belive in constitutional monarchy because i belive in the right of the people of disobey and rebel against a tirannical rule, a tradition that came since from the confucian thought to the calvinistic thought, Beza, for example. And i belive in this because i belive that Injustice corrupts the honor of the office, of any office. And the office of guardian of the nation is one of most important of these.
And i belive in constitutional monarchist because i belive that moderating powers are inevitable. Look at my country, Brazil. A lot of times, the power of settle disputes were with the judiciary, in the suprem court. Well, it wasn't better have a organ who could exerce this function in the name of the nation?
Constitutional monarchy deserves support for a lot of reasons, as i putted in another post, among them:
1-Puts the monarch as the agent for the welfare of the people, instead of some divinized being or an absolute owner of the people and place of his realm. As Samuel Rutherford puted it in his " Lex rex": "They never constituted over themselves a king, in regard of fountain-power; for if they give away the fountain, as a slave selleth his liberty, they could not make use of it. Indeed they set a king above them, quoad potostatem legum executivam, in regard of a power of executing laws and actual government for their good and safety; but this proveth only that the king is above the people, in some respect. But the most eminent and fountain-power of royalty remaineth in the people as in an immortal spring, which they communicate by succession to this or that mortal man, in the manner and measure that they think good".
2- Creates a good balance against the partidary and oligarchical class interests, serving as an apolitical force in the country.
3- Centralizes the command and cretes a focus that is beneficial for decisions that are too hard to do by normal political means.
4- Creates a bond in the relationship of the monarch and his people. Instead of just representing his house and family, he's the monarchy of the people, he defends the codified laws of his people, he's the commander in cheif of the army of his people, and he and his subjects are sworn in a relationship of loyalty and mutual protecion and sharing.
But, this vision will not apeal to the public unless a new theory of constitutional monarchy arises, with a new vision for society. The steps, in my vision, are simple, but profundly necessary:
1- Formulate a triple teleology of the state, where three functions of his purpose is elaborate in three fields, very much like the three principles of the people from Kuomintang( i know they are republicans, but very inteligent ones, so, i still see value in their defintions):
The efficciency field, where the people have his material needs, such as access to food, clothing, housing, healthy and transportation, attended, as Sun Yat-sen said in his "Three Principles of the People" : "The railroads, public utilities, canals, and forests should be nationalized, and all income from the land and mines should be in the hands of the State. With this money in hand, the State can therefore finance the social welfare programs";
The political participation field, where people have a grasp of the state affairs by the superior representatives, that can be ellected, nomimated, but allways have a great deal of responsability with the people. As Alain de Benoist puts in his "The problem of democracy" : "The key notion for democracy is not numbers, suffrage, elections or representation, but participation. ‘Democracy is a folk’s participation in its own destiny’ (Moeller van den Bruck). It is that form of government which acknowledges each citizen’s right to take part in public affairs, particularly by appointing the government and lending or denying his consent to it. So it is not institutions that make democracy, but rather the people’s participation in institutions. The maximum of democracy coincides not with the ‘maximum of liberty’ or the ‘maximum of equality,’ but with the maximum of participation";
The inter personal participation field, where the people participate as persons in the affairs of one another, having security to share their lives and commune. As Bueno Espinosa puts it in his doctoral dissertation " Fundamentación epistemológica y metafísica del realismo volitivo: análisis fenomenológico de la condición pasiva trascendental de la subjetividad" (that´s my translation from the spanish of the original) : "Ultimately, the world is not a selflessly geometric space occupied by entities of mathematical unity, which occupy a space exactly the same as any other occupies. On the contrary, it is the total network that encompasses in a way linked to entities that for me are what they are and where they are depending on the mode how they respond to the operational intentions that I project on them, and from which I apprehend precisely as entities of "my world".But, in the state of Nature that's not possible, and that's why people need the supreme action of the state, that's the law. Only the regularity and the structure given by the law can produce the peace and prosperity necessary to the inter personal relations to trive. As Hobbes writes in the "Leviathan" :"The only way to erect such a Common Power, as may be able to defend them from the invasion of Forraigners, and the injuries of one another, and thereby to secure them in such sort, as that by their owne industrie, and by the fruites of the Earth, they may nourish themselves and live contentedly; is, to conferre all their power and strength upon one Man, or upon one Assembly of men, that may reduce all their Wills, by plurality of voices, unto one Will: which is as much as to say, to appoint one man, or Assembly of men, to beare their Person; and every one to owne, and acknowledge himselfe to be Author of whatsoever he that so beareth their Person, shall Act, or cause to be Acted, in those things which concerne the Common Peace and Safetie; and therein to submit their Wills, every one to his Will, and their Judgements, to his Judgment. This is more than Consent, or Concord; it is a reall Unitie of them all, in one and the same Person, made by Covenant of every man with every man, in such manner, as if every man should say to every man, “I Authorise and give up my Right of Governing my selfe, to this Man, or to this Assembly of men, on this condition, that thou give up thy Right to him, and Authorise all his Actions in like manner.” This done, the Multitude so united in one Person, is called a Commonwealth, in latine Civitas. This is the Generation of that great Leviathan, or rather (to speake more reverently) of that Mortall God, to which wee owe under the Immortall God, our peace and defence. For by this Authoritie, given him by every particular man in the Common-Wealth, he hath the use of so much Power and Strength conferred on him, that by terror thereof, he is inabled to forme the wills of them all, to Peace at home, and mutuall ayd against their enemies abroad".
In all those functions, the State is the axel society and must be the "speculum populi", which mirrors the aspirations of his society and commands it to a proper end.If one fails to mirror each other, then crises emmerges, and the nations breaks in crisis.
2- Define the new powers of the monarchy, rescuing the ancient notion of his office as the nómos émpsychos or the animated law,such as James Harrington puts in his "Commonwealth of Oceana": "Leviathan may see, that the hand or sword that executeth the Law is in it, and not above it". The monarch should be viewed as the guardian of the corporate will of the State and the protector of the national charater of the people or, as the japanese puts it, the Kokutai. This principle is well summarized in the constitution of Licheinstein: “Sovereignty rests on both the monarch and the people”.
That stablished, the monarch must be invested with a lot of moderating powers, personally presiding the various organs of the nation and, time to times, opinion polls must be sended to him, to keep him in touch with the people he must protect. His powers over the executive and military must be unique, like today presidents. Over the judiciary and legislative organs, the monarch must act by his moderating powers, such as calling and dissolving the national assembly, power of veto , being the last case judge , having votes to settle disputes, granting clemency, among other possible powers.
About his limitations, the legislature can deppose him cases of bad behaviour or gross crimes, but only by a super majority. And the succesion laws can vary, but allways must had the nomination of the previous monarchy and the confirmation by the national assembly.
3- The question of the parties. As a reformist, i belive that the political parties are the most responsible by the current crisis in our politics. As Benoist puts it": "Parties do not operate democratically as institutions. The tyranny of money rigs competition and engenders corruption. Mass voting prevents individual votes from proving decisive. Elected candidates are not encouraged to keep their commitments. Majority vote does not take account of the intensity of people’s preferences. Opinions are not formed independently: information is both biased (which prevents the freedetermination of choices) and standardised (which reinforces the tyranny of public opinion). The trend towards the standardising of political platforms and arguments makes it increasingly difficult to distinguish between different options. Political life thus becomes purely negative and universal suffrage comes to be perceived as an illusion. The result is political apathy, a principle that is the opposite of participation, and hence democracy".
We must strive to limit the political parties as what is their proper place: a group with a plataform to express some ideological beliefs and no more. And the most part of it is by the creation of a non partisan legislature, that represents the specialists and economic organs of the nation; the prohibition of private donations to the parties by people and enterprises; limitations in the appropriate language they can use in campaigns; limitations in the size of personal and in the value of their payments. The most close we can reach of a non partisan regime, the better.
4- We must adopt a firm and resolute statism, where no just the economic and social needs of the people are attended by the state in the social wellfare programs; but by a staunch protection of their culture, as means of valorizing their value as persons. If, as many philosopers puted, the subject/ object divide is bridged in the act of thought, the collective action of thought, and the institutions that derive from it, is the bridge of individual and collective. As Giovanni Gentile writes in his article : “Basic Concepts of Actualism”: “The only solid reality that I must affirm—and to which any reality I might think must be tied—is this: only through the act of being thought can that which thinks and is realized become a reality”.We made the State and society and we are made by them, at same time. That's the rejection of all anarchist, libertarianist and crass individualistic thinking that pollute monarchist thought since the 19ht century, with the idea of the monarchy as simple rubber stamp and the people as a grup of self interested and rootless individuals.
Well, that's my thinkings of how a strong constitutional monarchy model can be builded, without the many flaws that make monarchy inneficient in the past.

A widow on the path of vengeance,
A life taken, her heart in fragments.
She wanders through the dark of night,
Her thoughts consumed with deadly might.
No mercy shown, her aim is true,
She'll take revenge, see it through.
With each step she grows more bold,
Her heart beats fast, her grip is cold.
Her enemies beware her wrath,
Their fate is sealed, there's no escape path.
Her sword is sharp, her aim is sure,
No one can stop her, the gods assure.
The widow on her quest for retribution,
Will not rest until there's restitution.
Her mind is focused, her heart is strong,
Her foes will pay the price, no right or wrong.
In the end, justice will be served,
The widow's heart, though broken, will be preserved.
For she has triumphed in her quest,
And now can lay her soul to rest.
-The Legend of the Shade
-----------------
One would expect that a planet named Ilara would be some sort of paradise, or at the very least, pleasant to experience. This could not be further from the truth. Ilara is an arid, hot and dusty mess of a world. What little surface water there is has seen settlements of all kinds pop up around it, and considering the sort of planet it is, it’s no wonder that these oases have become dens of lawlessness.
Well, most of them have, a few still manage to be civilized, but to paraphrase a good man, many are ‘“Wretched hives of scum and villainy”, and it is one of these places where this tale takes place.
Nefaria’actul’oproni, or as the citizens called it, Murkville, was not a happy place. It wasn’t particularly nice looking either, the buildings all worn and smooth thanks to the repeated sandstorms that like to roll on through. There were scorch marks and even streaks of dried blood in all the colors of the rainbow on the walls in some places. And yet, for all its shittiness, people still lived there. They didn’t like it, but the next nearest and far more civilized town was much too far away for any of them to make it without suffering some form of horrible accident, attack by the wildlife or something else along those lines. So they stayed, and they endured.
Murkville was also under the control of the crime syndicate calling themselves the Set’ruthal, a brutal organization that specializes in drugs, human/xenos trafficking and prostitution, none of which was mutually exclusive in the slightest. They were scum of the highest order and they held Murkville in their iron grip, extorting the populace for ‘protection’ money and the like. All terribly cliche, but such is the way of the world.
It was a dark and blissfully cool night at the local saloon, and Scaszer - A Solvoih, who are what humanity would call an anthropomorphized snake with legs - was enjoying a drink with his friends after a long and hard day of work. His two friends, a Khik or vaguely like a tall dog person and an Almell, which humans describe as an elf with feathers, sat with him. They were all simply enjoying the cool air and the good drinks, one of the few actual luxuries in this gods forsaken dump of a town.
Flardryn - the Almell - was the first to break the silence that lingered over all of us.
“So, have you heard the rumors?” He asked, his voice a touch chirpy at times, but today not so much. Scaszer and Deikx the Khik both looked at him curiously, then at one another before they shook their heads. Flardryn grinned and leaned forwards, lowering his voice to a whisper only we could hear.
“Rumor is, someone’s sticking it to the Set’ruthal. Blowing up outposts, caches, and just generally causing chaos.” He said, Scaszer and Deikx looking rather disbelieving.
“What a load of ketch, if that were true don’t you think we’d have noticed? Ketch, if that were true this whole place would be worse than it was, they’d be taking out all that anger on us instead of the person causing the trouble.” Deikx snorted, shaking his head in a manner that had his droopy ears flopping about.
“Yeah, you know how they get when things go wrong. We pay the price.” Scaszer said, Flardryn huffing.
“But it is true! They say a human is causing all this fuss.” He protested, and that gave the other two pause. Now that sounded pretty plausible, when humans wanted to break something, they always seemed to do so in spectacular fashion. So one human causing such a ruckus wasn’t unheard of, but still it was only a rumor.
“Alright then, tell us about this human.” Scaszer said, and Flardryn looked overjoyed at the prospect of doing so, leaning in even closer to speak.
“So, rumors say this human holds a personal grudge against the Set’ruthal. They say the syndicate killed the humans family and nobody would bring them to justice, so the human decided to do it themselves.” That was honestly not that surprising. Humans love a good revenge arc. “Anyway, they started small, or so the rumors say. Just some low level scum going missing, then working their way higher and higher up the ladder. It’s got the Set’ruthal scared but they don’t wanna show it, keep up appearances you know?”
Scaszer and Deikx nodded, both of them fully understanding the concept of saving face. But this did seem a little far fetched.
None of them really noticed the human that entered the saloon, a long, dusty and tattered coat draped over their shoulders, heeled boots that gently thumped against the floor and a wide brimmed hat on the top of their head. Nobody noticed them save the bartender when the human sat at it, nor did they hear the softly spoken request for a drink from this human.
What they did notice was the very loud group of Set’ruthal enforcers, who were off duty at this time, wandering into the saloon not five minutes later, cussing and generally being obnoxious. The establishment fell silent, fearful eyes tracking the enforcers as they kicked the occupants of a table out of their chairs and claimed it for themselves. Nobody moved a muscle to challenge them, they all knew what would happen if they did.
The human however, hardly seemed perturbed as they glanced over a shoulder, the long ponytail of red hair shifting with the motion. It didn’t take the Enforcers long to notice the human, nor the fact that the human was a female. There was a very good reason why there were no humans in Murkville, and the Set’ruthal were that very reason, as the men tended to get slaughtered and the women… well, best to not talk about that.
“Well well, looks like we have a newcomer!” One of the enforcers said, grinning maliciously. The Set’ruthal were almost exclusively occupied by members of a species known as the Bholkal. To humans, they were very large armadillos, with the same amount of teeth as a shark and generally they all had very bad attitudes. “And a human at that, it’s our lucky night lads! Seems we’ll be having some lively entertainment.”
They all stood and the trio of friends all felt a bit of bile rise in their throats, feeling for the poor human who had wandered into the wrong town. But the human did the most curious thing, and perhaps the most stupid thing as well. They ignored the enforcers and instead flagged down the bartender, who looked to be quivering in fear.
“Could I just have the bottle, please and thank you.” The human said, her voice light and lilting, but with a touch of a Terran subcultural accent, what they would call Southern. The bartender was quick to acquiesce, and a bottle of some alcoholic beverage was placed before her. She was quick to take it up, spinning the cap off it with a well practiced motion. She didn’t even care that the cap was sent flying off into the unknown as a result, she instead focused on chugging the contents of the bottle while turning on her stool to face the enforcers.
The enforcers didn’t look too pleased and everyone else all wanted to look away from what was going to happen next, but found themselves transfixed.
“Aren’t you a pretty thing, why don’t you come play with us girly.” The lead enforcer, a particularly nasty fellow and coincidentally the son of the Set’ruthal patriarch, grinned as he reached out a claw to stroke her cheek. Instead of responding verbally, her head tilted back as she continued her drinking, a single finger raised to single him to wait. He didn’t really appreciate this, as he moved with such speed that nobody really knew what happened till the bottle had been cut into pieces, the contents splashing partially onto her and the floor while the glass shattered on impact.
She stared at the broken and empty bottle with a look of exasperation, before her ice blue eyes shifted their focus onto the heir apparent.
“Alright, I’ll play with you.” She said softly, and the enforcer grinned, leaning in to begin his violations, only for all of us to hear a sound we were most assuredly not expecting.
It was the sound of railgun coils spinning up.
Before anyone could react, there was a sharp sound of metal on metal, followed by wet squelching, as nearly every soul tracked the arm that sailed through the air and landed in a bloody heap well across the room. Then came the screaming, as the enforcer looked at the stump where his arm had been, and the ancient looking revolver that had removed it. The gun shifted, angling lower, the same whine repeating and now he was missing a leg as well.
The saloon burst into motion as his screaming intensified, his buddies all surging towards the human who stood in a flash and used their foot to hook onto the rungs of the stool she’d only just been occupying, sending it sailing straight into the face of an enforcer even as she took aim and fired again, turning another's head into a fine purple mist. She became a blur, firing and slashing with the broken bottle. She painted the room with their blood and they never even laid a claw on her.
It was over in an instant, the human standing there and breathing heavily, even as she watched the first enforcer claw his way out the door on his stomach. With a deep breath she turned, placed a stack of credits on the bar and walked after the fleeing enforcer, all while reloading her weapon.
Without much hesitation all present who had merely been spectators scrambled from their hiding places and to the windows, watching as she stepped over the prostrate being and pressed the barrel of her gun to the back of his head.
“D-Do you know who I am? Who my father is!?” The being wailed, and the human nodded.
“I do, that’s why I’m here, why I’m doing this. Because you took everything I ever held dear from me, and now… now I have nothing left to lose.” She murmured, and the alien grinned, purple blood oozing from his mouth.
“You know you’re gonna die right? We’re gonna take our time with you, make it hurt!”
“Perhaps, but here’s the thing,” She kicked him over onto his back, a position of great shame to a Bhokal. “There’s room in my grave for you too.” She hissed, and they all expected her to end him right then and there. But she didn’t. Instead she drew a knife and smiled in a sweet manner, yet instead of the comfort that such a smile should have brought, they felt nothing but a chill run down their spines (or spine equivalents.)
“Now, you’re gonna be a messenger to dear old dad, so you best listen close, don’t want to miss a single word.”
Those watching turned away, some getting sick at what she did next, the screams echoing down the street.
Ten Hours Later
The plantation on the outskirts of Murkville was an opulent affair, reminiscent of ancient Terran plantations as well, which is what it had been based off of coincidentally. It was here where the end of this story shall take place, and it shall go down in history as a pivotal point for Ilara. A night of blood and death, of vengeance secured and the end of a dynasty.
It began, with the sound of someone scratching at the door, a sound that was entirely unheard of in this place. When a guard was ordered to investigate, they found only the mangled son of Patriarch Bilharzia bleeding - not nearly as profusely as he had been earlier - on the stoop. He was quickly moved to a secure room and his father was livid, bellowing up a storm of vile hatred for whomever had done this to his son.
When eventually he calmed down enough to not only hear himself think, but to hear others when they talked to him, he was informed that there was a camera attached to the front of his son's uniform. He quickly snatched it up, peering directly into the camera as a snarl ripped from his throat.
“I don’t know who you are, or why you’re doing this, but you’ve made a very grave mistake! I will hunt you down, I will tear everything you love and hold dear apart! I will make you beg for death and I shall not give it! DO YOU HEAR ME! I SHALL NOT GIVE IT!” He roared into the camera, unsure if whomever was watching could even hear him. But apparently they could.
“You already have. Now it’s my turn. An eye for an eye.” Came the sibilant response, and that’s when they all heard it. A gentle beeping coming from nearby. Bilharzia turned towards the source, only to find his son awake yet again, and looking fearfully at him. He couldn’t speak, whomever had mutilated him had not stopped at his limbs, but had removed his ability to speak, to warn them of the danger he presented.
It clicked in Bilharzia’s head that the beeping was only getting faster, and just as it became a solid tone he bolted from the room. He was fortunate to have done so, his son and the others however… not so fortunate. The high explosive charge that had been embedded into his son detonated, blowing a good chunk of the west wing entirely to pieces.
As Bilharzia raised his head from the ground where he’d landed thanks to the blast, he caught sight of missiles streaking up into the air, only to explode mid-flight and rain down phosphorus and napalm over the fields of product he maintained, setting them ablaze. Heavy gunfire sounded, the rattling of a very large chaingun booming through the silence of a beautiful evening, raking rounds over his vehicles and depots. Everything of value save the servants quarters was put to the torch, and he could only watch.
From the smoke strode a figure, one he instantly recognized. He was not ignorant of human history, their conflicts Shumon Synergy or the Valvak Despoilers, he knew a human warmech when he saw one. And this one was particularly well known.
Before his home stood the warmech known as the Black Widow though its official name was 22-39 Ward. The body was painted black, a single red hourglass on the chest partially hidden by some sort of tactical covering that closely resembled a poncho. It was a monster of a machine, and there was only one person who had ever piloted it. A woman who was known as Shade, or that was what her foes had called her. To her peers, to her family, her name was Myra Fields. A war hero a thousand times over, a loving wife and mother of four.
A widow, whose family had been ripped from her by Bilharzia’s very hand.
The warmech launched another salvo, striking at targets that went unseen behind the manor, and his men, his loyal men, rushed out to face the beast of metal and wrath, only to be gunned down without mercy or hesitation. And then the chassis opened, and out stepped his worst nightmare.
A woman in black, with blood red hair, dropped from the pilots cradle and landed with nary a sound. Bilharzia made to flee through the house, but the fire caused by the explosion within it had weakened the structure, a burning beam landing upon his legs and pulverizing the bones. He cried out as he was stopped dead in his tracks, and from where he lay he could see her approaching slowly, patiently.
Finally she stepped into the burning home, the smoke filled wind catching her coat and making it flap. She knelt before him, not a single emotion on her face. She studied him for a moment, then looked at the beam and the fire which engulfed the house before nodding. She didn’t say a word, not even in response to his begging, his pleas for mercy. She had none to give, none to show, and so she stood and left, leaving him to his fate.
Finally she spoke, even as she walked past the waiting warmech.
“Light the fire, Ward.” She said, and the machine nodded, launching more incendiary missiles high into the air, and watching as the payload rained down on the home. And just like that, it was over, a syndicate which had existed for five hundred years, reduced to ashes. The machine nodded again, then turned and trailed after its mistress.
Four days later
Myra crouched before a series of headstones, brushing the sand off them carefully and with reverence. She didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to do. But looking at them sparked something inside her, a purpose.
“It’s done… They won’t take anyone else anymore, I made sure of that.” She whispered. “Now… Now I think I’ll see what I can do to help make the galaxy a better place. There are more out there like me, who need their own closure. More like them that need to be brought to justice. If I can do even just a little bit… Then that’ll be enough for me.”
She rose, dusting the sand off her knees and took one last look at the graves of her family.
“I love you all.” She murmured, turning and clambering up into the cockpit of her warmech. As it sealed she placed her hat upon a hook, and turned them both towards the horizon, and the star port beyond it.
“What are we going to do now, Commander?” Ward asked, and she smiled, giving one of his consoles a gentle pat.
“Now… Now we’re going to do what we do best. Think you’re up for it?”
“Affirmative.”
“Good boy. Let’s go kill some bad guys.”
And so, the two walked off into the great unknown, looking to bring justice to those that required it.

Accident happened 2 months ago in texas
So my son got into a car accident in texas. The other party failed to yield the right away (basically the other driver turned in front of my son driving a small red sports car on a long straight road on a clear sunny day) tho police cited the other driver as they said skid marks evidence put the other party at fault. Our car was totaled.
We tried to contact the other party's insurance and after a few days, they said my son caused the accident. My son had apparently passed a car going 15 mph in a 35 mph zone (camera can prove the exact location about 1/2 a mile from point of impact) my son was back in his lane for about 30 seconds. Knowing this the police still determined the other party was guilty.
My son sufferent a broken clavicle, a partially torn acl and mcl, bulging disc in his neck and a concussion. We ended up getting a lawyer. We explained everything. Typical we will get you money or you don't pay anything ( large law firm in West texas.
My son graduated high school at 16 so he can play college soccer an extra year. Now with all the injuries he won't be playing ball for atleast 8 months , losing the 1 year advantage. He is mentally in a really bad place. He says everything he sacrificed for soccer (high school, friends , social events ) was for nothing to the point I needed to get him to a therapist.
Well lawyer called today and said that the other parties insurance had agreed to accecpt 50% of the fault for the accident. That because my son passed that car 1/2 a mile away that maybe that caused the accident (another witness stated my son was driving normally. That person saw the while thing) What does that mean. The lawyer said we would get the medical bills paid for but what about what my son has gone through. I told the lawyer the witness said my son was 0% at fault and they should talk to him but the lawyer said no its ok because they already agreed to 50%.
Is this right? I was seeing if a settlement can perhaps pay for some of my son's college since the chance to play baseball on scholarship is out the window. My son has also been in a crap load of pain. I don't see how saying my son was 50% at fault seems right.
Thanks and sorry for the long read.

I've had 26 hours of professional instruction including the lesson I had today. I was driving around the city centre to get used to the traffic conditions and high pedestrian levels etc. Needless to say I got confused several times at roundabouts and in lanes (so I would go the wrong way or take up the wrong lane etc.). To top it off when I was coming off the motorway, I for some reason stopped at the end of the slip road despite the traffic lights being green which could of caused an accident (thankfully it didn't). Even my instructor clearly got a bit panicky, who is a fairly calm and patient person
Last lesson was really good (he said this himself). Never stalled once, never had any real issues with my positioning on the road (never got too close to curb or opposite traffic). I stalled like 2 or 3 times this lesson but that was because I thought I had the car in neutral when stopped at a red light. It's annoying because I was going to ask him about the possibility of a mock driving test in the near future at the end of the lesson. Only real good takeaway from today's lesson is that he never had to use his dual-brake (well actually I think he did when I was pulling up in a parking space with a car in front but only as a precautionary measure).
​
Next lesson I'm going to do roundabouts to fix up on today's problems.

Main hub thread with the full 131 rankings
For all the Cyclone fanatics out there, I see you guys. For the 6th worst Power 5 team on this list, Iowa State has had incredible support, averaging 50,000+ fans a year even during their lows. Finally, after years of struggling minus a few nice Dan McCarney years, Iowa State’s found a coach that’s brought them consistent success in Matt Campbell. Outside of Campbell’s first year in which he went 3-9 and the latest 4-8 season in 2022, the 5 years in between (2017-21) all place in my top 7 ISU seasons over the last 40 years. Whether last year was an outlier or if Iowa State will regress to their historical mean remains to be seen, but the last 6 years have been great compared to what fans have been accustomed to.

Best Seasons and Highlights

1. 2020: 7. Iowa State: 9-3 (30.160) 2. 2000: 27. Iowa State: 9-3 (13.294) 3. 2017: 32. Iowa State: 8-5 (12.780) 4. 2018: 37. Iowa State: 8-5 (8.477) 5. 2021: 40. Iowa State: 7-6 (5.442) 6. 2005: 37. Iowa State: 7-5 (3.574) 7. 2019: 43. Iowa State: 7-6 (1.761) 8. 2004: 42. Iowa State: 7-5 (-2.644) 9. 2001: 51. Iowa State: 7-5 (-3.334) 10. 2002: 57. Iowa State: 7-7 (-4.723) 11. 2012: 65. Iowa State: 6-7 (-7.162) 12. 2009: 63. Iowa State: 7-6 (-7.233) 13. 2011: 62. Iowa State: 6-7 (-8.169) 14. 1989: 56. Iowa State: 6-5 (-10.057) 15. 1986: 56. Iowa State: 6-5 (-10.436) 16. 1990: 58. Iowa State: 4-6-1 (-11.929) 17. 2010: 69. Iowa State: 5-7 (-13.761) 18. 1985: 60. Iowa State: 5-6 (-17.317) 19. 2022: 84. Iowa State: 4-8 (-18.173) 20. 1988: 66. Iowa State: 5-6 (-18.197) 21. 1992: 79. Iowa State: 4-7 (-21.249) 22. 1999: 79. Iowa State: 4-7 (-23.653) 23. 1993: 75. Iowa State: 3-8 (-23.926) 24. 1983: 79. Iowa State: 4-7 (-25.659) 25. 1991: 75. Iowa State: 3-7-1 (-26.248) 26. 2006: 92. Iowa State: 4-8 (-30.444) 27. 2007: 93. Iowa State: 3-9 (-31.101) 28. 2015: 97. Iowa State: 3-9 (-31.892) 29. 1998: 84. Iowa State: 3-8 (-31.989) 30. 1984: 85. Iowa State: 2-7-2 (-32.012) 31. 2016: 97. Iowa State: 3-9 (-32.276) 32. 1995: 84. Iowa State: 3-8 (-32.441) 33. 2013: 98. Iowa State: 3-9 (-34.411) 34. 1996: 94. Iowa State: 2-9 (-37.584) 35. 1987: 91. Iowa State: 3-8 (-37.886) 36. 2014: 115. Iowa State: 2-10 (-42.981) 37. 2008: 111. Iowa State: 2-10 (-48.885) 38. 2003: 107. Iowa State: 2-10 (-50.450) 39. 1994: 101. Iowa State: 0-10-1 (-53.566) 40. 1997: 105. Iowa State: 1-10 (-56.575) Overall Score: 9649 (84th) 

• 184-283-5 record
• 0 conference titles
• 5-8 bowl record
• 5 consensus All-Americans
• 42 NFL players drafted

Iowa State certainly has a knack for producing really good RBs. 4 of their 5 All-Americans come from 2 RBs in Troy Davis (1995, ‘96) and Breece Hall (2020, ‘21). At just 5’8 183 lbs, Davis became the first player in NCAA history to rush for 2000 yards in back-to-back seasons, and remains one of only 2 players to ever do so. In 1995 he ran for 2010 yards and 15 TD, placing 5th in Heisman voting. He outdid himself a year later, rushing for 2185 yards and 21 TD, narrowly missing out on the Heisman, finishing to 2nd Florida QB Danny Wuerfel, who got 49% of the votes compared to Davis’ 43%. Davis won 3 of 4 regions, but lost badly in the South. Still, the tradition of producing strong RBs rings true, as Iowa State’s produced 8 RBs during the last 40 years with 2500+ career rushing yards. Notable NFL players include David Montgomery, Breece Hall, Allen Lazard, Pro Bowler Kelechi Osemele, and as a 49er fan, future Hall of Famer Brock Purdy.

Top 5 Seasons

Worst Season: 1997 (1-10 overall, 1-7 Big 12)
Remember how good Troy Davis was, especially after I described him above? Well, his teams weren’t very good, going 3-8 in 1995 and 2-9 in 1996. So you can imagine how 1997 went after he had left for the NFL. Iowa State didn’t stand a chance in Dan McCarney’s 3rd year as head coach, and it’s honestly a miracle the Cyclones let him stay for so long, as it took 6 years for him to get his first winning season. The gamble paid off though, as he was eventually inducted into the Iowa State Hall of Fame. Still, 1997 was his worst year. They had a talented freshman QB by the name of Sage “Helicopter” Rosenfels on the roster, but he wouldn’t start for another 2 years. QB was not a big issue though, as Todd Bandhauer had a respectable year, completing 48% of passes for 2514 yards 20 TD 9 INT, leading the Big 12 in passing yards and TDs. Bandhauer was a 2-time All-Academic Big 12 selection, and is currently an Associate Professor of Mechanical Engineering at Colorado State. WR Tyrone Watley led the Big 12 in receiving yards with 827, and RB Darren Davis had 1000+ yards in just 9 games. Offense wasn’t a huge issue, but the defense gave up 44.8 PPG. The lone win on the year was 24-17 over 2-9 Baylor, and losses included 14-77 to #3 Nebraska and 20-63 to #13 Iowa, losing their 15th straight against the Hawkeyes.
5. 2021 (7-6 overall, 5-4 Big 12)
For this season to be a disappointment but also top 5 on this list tells you how far Iowa State’s come under Matt Campbell. Make no mistake, it was a disappointment, finishing 7-6 after a preseason #7 ranking, but they were still the best 7-6 team in 2021 (out of 17 teams) by my metric. Iowa State returned 4th year starting QB Brock Purdy, consensus All-American Breece Hall, 2x 1st Team All-Big 12 TE Charlie Kolar, and Big 12 Defensive POTY LB Mike Rose, so the preseason expectations weren’t unfounded. A typical ISU slow start saw them barely beat Northern Iowa, and a classic Brian Ferentz Iowa performance had the Hawkeyes take a 27-10 lead (27-17 final) despite getting outgained 173-339 in yardage. 2 weeks later, a trap game 31-29 loss in Waco all but ended the Cyclones’ playoff hopes, despite outgaining Baylor by nearly 200 yards. However, in true Iowa State fashion, they rebounded to mess up Oklahoma State’s season a few weeks later, beating the #8 Cowboys 24-21 to improve to 5-2. A 2-4 finish was mostly because of location, going 2-0 at home and 0-4 in road/neutral sites. It was a squandered year for Iowa State, outscoring Big 12 opponents by an average of 12 PPG but going just 5-4. 8 starters on offense made 1st/2nd Team All-Big 12, by far the most in the conference. Breece repeated as consensus AA/Big 12 OPOTY with 1774 yards and 23 TD from scrimmage, while Rose earned 1st Team all-conference again.
4. 2018 (8-5 overall, 6-3 Big 12)
For the first time since the Big 12 moved from divisions to a round robin format in 2013, Iowa State wasn’t picked in the bottom 2 with Kansas. Big 12 media picked them 7th, this time coming above Texas Tech, Baylor, and of course Kansas. But after starting QB Kyle Kempt went down in the season opener, and backup Zeb Noland went just 1-3, Matt Campbell gave a shot to a freshman by the name of Brock Purdy. In a sort of foreshadowing for names in the NFL, Kyle became a mentor to Brock, and Purdy exploded onto the scene, throwing for 4 TD and rushing for another in a 48-42 win at #25 Oklahoma State. He’d top that a week later, beating #6 West Virginia and Will Grier 30-14, this time the defense stepping up big to hold Grier to just 67 total yards. ISU never looked back with Purdy, and nearly made the Big 12 title game if they had beaten Texas. They finished the regular season 8-4, 3rd in the Big 12, and nearly beat 11-2 Washington State in the bowl. Campbell won Big 12 Coach of the Year for the 2nd straight season. Purdy was 6th in the nation in passing efficiency, completing 66% of passes for 2250 yards 16 TD 7 INT, on 10.2 YPA. RB David Montgomery had another 1000+ yard rushing season and has gone on to have a productive NFL career. WR Hakeem Butler was 3rd in the nation in yards per catch (22.0), getting 60 passes for 1318 yards and 9 TD.
3. 2017 (8-5 overall, 5-4 Big 12)
Before Brock Purdy and Iowa State could run, the 2017 team had to walk. Years of effort from give-it-their-all players like Allen Lazard and Joel Lanning culminated in a magical 2018 season that might just be the fondest on this list. ISU had gone just 11-37 over the previous 4 seasons, so a 2nd to last place Big 12 finish was expected. After a 2-2 start, ISU pulled off maybe the biggest win in school history, beating #3 Oklahoma 38-31, who’d go on to make the playoff with Baker Mayfield winning the Heisman. LB Joel Lanning, who was the team’s starting QB the previous 2 seasons, was the Walter Camp Defensive Player of the Week, logging 8 tackles, 1 sack, 1 fumble recovery, as well as 9 rushes for 35 yards and 2 completions for 25 yards on offense. A few weeks later against Oklahoma State he’d become the 1st player in the last 10 years to record a pass TD, rush TD, and half sack in the same game. After the win over OU though, just a few weeks later Iowa State would ALSO beat #4 TCU 14-7!!! A few one possession losses later and ISU finished 7-5, but would beat yet another top 25 team in the bowl in #20 Memphis.
Lanning was named a 1st Team All-American by FWAA, racking up 114 tackles, 6 sacks, 5 TFL, 1 INT, 135 rushing yards, 47 passing yards, and 3 TD. Not bad for a former QB. QB Kyle Kempt was one of the most underrated stories of the season, emerging as the starter in the 5th game and going on to throw 15 TD to just 3 INT. Kempt was a 5th year walk-on who had only thrown 2 passes in his career prior to the Oklahoma game. By the time the season was over, he had 2 wins over top 5 teams, and today is still on the team as a coach.
2. 2000 (9-3 overall, 5-3 Big 12)
Like the 2017 team, the 2000 Cyclones came out of nowhere, a dormant program that had gone just 27-80-3 the previous decade. ISU players knew the talent they had though, led by future NFL QB Sage Rosenfels, one of 9 players that would go on to make NFL rosters. Another would go on to join the Iowa Senate, and the late LB Justin Eilers would fight in the UFC. They played a very favorable schedule, going 8-3 in the regular season with 0 wins over Power 6 teams with a winning record, but did beat 7-4 Ohio, 8-5 UNLV, and rival Iowa for the Cy-Hawk. ISU put any “soft schedule” talk to rest when they beat the Big East’s 3rd placed team, Pitt, in the bowl 37-29. Rosenfels had a nice curtain call, winning offensive POTG with 23/34 passing for 308 yards and 2 TD. Rosenfels did what he had to during the year, with deceiving stats of 2298 passing yards 8 TD 12 INT. He was a solid runner though, and would become known for his patented “helicopter” move in the NFL, rushing for 381 yards and 10 TD. RB Ennis Haywood and C Ben Bruns were ISU’s two 1st Team All-Big 12 selections, as Haywood ran for 1237 yards and Bruns led the way. The 5’6(!) JJ Moses led the team in receiving with 775 yards, and was named team MVP.
1. 2020 (9-3 overall, 8-1 Big 12)
Ahh, but it had to be the 2020 team at #1. Even my algorithm places this team way above 2000 even though they had the same record, with the 2000 team finishing ranked 27th and 2020 finishing ranked 7th. After a typical ISU slow start, losing 13-30 to UL Lafayette, the rest of the year couldn’t have gone much better. In the 3rd game they beat eventual B12 champion Oklahoma 37-30. Later on they beat #17 Texas in Darrel K Royal 23-20, essentially ensuring Tom Herman would be fired after the season, and stomped 6-4 West Virginia 42-6. ISU entered the Big 12 championship game against Oklahoma as the 1 seed, and had an opportunity at the end to win, but came up short 21-27. A 34-17 Fiesta Bowl win over Pac-12 champion Oregon was pretty satisfying though, and Iowa State finished with their highest ever postseason ranking at #9. They cleaned up in the Big 12 accolades, taking up 9 of the 22 1st Team all-conference slots. Breece Hall was Big 12 Offensive POTY and a consensus All-American, with 1752 yards and 23 TD from scrimmage. LB Mike Rose won Big 12 Defensive POTY with 99 tackles, 10.5 total TFL, and 5 INT. Campbell won Coach of the Year, and WR Xavier Hutchinson and DB Isheem Young won Big 12 Offensive Newcomer of the Year and Defensive Freshman of the Year, respectively. Shoutout to 1st Team All-Big 12 TE Charlie Kolar as well, who was a consistent force making 1st/2nd Team all-conference in each of his 4 seasons.

5th Quarter

Iowa State fans, what do you look back more fondly on, the Matt Campbell years with expectations of competing for a Big 12 title, or the Paul Rhoads years with a win over #2 Oklahoma State and some other fun upsets? Do you think Brock Purdy was always as good as he played for the 49ers in 2022, or is he mostly propped up by a stacked San Francisco offense? Who was better, Troy Davis or Breece Hall? Does David Montgomery take the 3rd spot or does that go to someone like Darren Davis/Alexander Robinson? Aside from going there, what makes someone choose to follow Iowa State? And how’d I do on your guys’ history?
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