I hope this is the right place and someone can tell me what may have been going on in my village. I moved here a few weeks ago. It's a small village in the heart of Russia and my parents and I came here because things start to get really bad in Moscow and my father lost his job. I don't know why we had to move to this isolated village, so far away from civilization. Maybe my parents wanted peace and quiet? To escape the things in that city, the poisoned minds?
The houses here had all been far below average in price. Almost everyone who lives here has moved here recently.
But, there are crazy rumors about this village that people tell each other. It was found abandoned in the mid-nineties. Where everyone went, no one knows. They say that no signs of people were found at all, nothing. But... everywhere in and around the village… strange patches of earth had been discovered, circular and smooth. Not only in the forest or on the road, but also in the dilapidated wooden houses. At our new neighbors' house, one of the mysterious spots had supposedly been found right in the living room floor, where the floorboards had been just cut away.
These rumors scare me. I am afraid of this village. But yesterday... I was redoing the floor in my room with my father and there... I found a notebook under the old boards. I hid it from my father, I don't know why... Someone must have left it there.
Last night... that's when I read it. I read it and now I'm incredibly afraid of this house and this village. Of the fields and the woods that surround me. The notebook apparently belonged to someone called Ilya Vasiliev. I have tried to translate what he wrote, hoping that someone here can help me find an explanation for the rumors. For this uneasy feeling that I have since I moved here...
***********
I am fine. I want that to be clear from the beginning. My story is strange and in huge parts troubling, but I am still in the best state of mental health.
I am fine!
My story begins seven months ago, in December 1979, when deep winter was upon our village. We were preparing for Christmas, the first Christmas to be celebrated publicly throughout the village, after years of having to practice our faith in secret because the Soviet government did not allow religions. Only in the last few years did the Reds' view loosen and they allowed small islands of faith. One of them was my village, which finally dared to celebrate and praise the Lord.
I have been a believer all twenty years of my life, an exemplary Christian, just like my parents. Faith had kept our family line alive in times of terror and misery. Death had always been close to us, as the fields where most of the population of our village had worked for generations had once brought the end of hundreds of people. Many years ago, on those fields, atrocities had occurred that had finally given them their present name: The Fields of Death.
I myself had not been born back then, not by a long shot, but my grandparents had spent their childhood there, a childhood full of hunger and depravity. My grandfather Fomenko often told me and my sister the stories he had experienced and how faith had saved everyone. There had been a long, cold winter and the grain had been confiscated by the government to be taken to the cities for distribution. After all, the grain belonged to all the people, not just those on the farms who planted it, tended to it, and harvested it. And so, the only food of that time left my grandfather's village and never came back. Some of his neighbors had once tried to hold back some grain, to hide some sacks, but when they were caught, a hail of bullets determined their fate. People lived in fear, not daring to stop working, not daring to keep for themselves the food that was destined for the common good. In those days, horrors happened in my village that I cannot truly picture today, not even when I hear my grandfather's usually clear voice begin to tremble. When I see in his eyes that he would rather forget, in order to experience a peaceful sleep once again… someday.
He told us about those horrors to warn us of how quickly life can plunge from safety into infinite terror. Winter had reigned. The grain was being hauled away. They still shot all those who tried to keep back pieces of it, be it a sack or some husks that had fallen from a cart. In time, hunger began to drive people in our village insane. Parents locked up their children so they wouldn't be taken by neighbors to feed their hunger. Friends turned their backs on each other and killed each other in fights for the last livestock that was still breathing. The streets reeked of decay and death, of misery and suffering. One day, my grandfather told us, he had hidden in the back room of his house while his parents dragged themselves, emaciated, to the fields to pick the last scraps of grain from the furrows with their dirty, half-frozen fingers. He had come across a book there, a book that had saved his life.
The word of God. An old Bible.
My grandfather had learned to read at an early age, one of the sad advantages of living in the Soviet Union.
It was in the room I now live in that Grandfather Fomenko had found the dusty book. Actually, he had been looking for something to eat, the days before he had found some sawdust. But despite his hunger and the grumbling in his stomach, eating the book was out of the question. Books were sacred, and no book as sacred as this one. He had begun to read and learned about the greatness of the Lord. Of the miracles his Son had performed. And of the magic of faith. His stomach had growled, but he had ignored it. The words gave him comfort.
The next day he immersed himself in the book again, disappearing into better worlds and times, hearing wisdom and encouragement. But around noon there was a knock at the door. My grandfather emphasized each time that he had not been afraid, that he had known that the Lord would protect him, when the old neighbor gained entrance to our house armed with a cleaver. It was clear what he wanted: Meat. My grandfather told us each time about how the neighbor had looked more undead than human, stinking and with sunken eyes, smelling like death from his mouth, the cleaver trembling in his hand.
"I'm sorry, boy," was all the man could get out.
My grandfather tried to mimic this poor man’s voice at the end of his wits, to express his pain through words so that we understood that poor fellow a little.
The Lord's words had given courage to my grandfather in his most terrible moments. He had stood up and firmly said:
"Away with you, the Lord protects the inhabitants of this house!"
But the intruder did not care, coming closer. And so, my grandfather again sought comfort and prayed. He prayed for mercy and peace and for his life. He would serve the Lord for the rest of his days. Trust Him blindly.
Suddenly, like a gruesome miracle, the famished intruder let out an inhuman groan and collapsed, lifeless and debilitated. There had been no hunger for my grandfather and his family for a week after that. My grandfather had been praying to the Lord since that day, thanking Him for His mercy. The story spread around the village and out of desperation or hope, in the next few days everyone secretly knelt in front of small wooden crosses they had made themselves and prayed to the Lord. A week later, like a miracle, the long-awaited delivery of grain arrived, along with spring. There had not been another bad time since then.
These events are the reason for the faith in our village... and our family. The psalm my grandfather had prayed as the hungry neighbor attacked had become the guiding psalm of our faith. All these years we had not been able to celebrate Christmas with the other families, but since the restrictions on faith communities had been relaxed, we had all finally decided to celebrate the holy festival in the village square. And so, we started the preparations.
There, in those evening hours, my part of the story begins. I and my younger sister Zarina, together with other youths and young adults, were fetching wood for the fire that was to burn in the center of our village. So, we went out into the night, dressed with thick pelts, to fetch logs from the edge of the fields that some men had prepared.
My breath could be seen as an icy breeze in the dawning darkness and I was already looking forward to dancing around the fire with everyone later, drinking good drinks and eating sumptuously. I was glad that we didn't have to walk across the fields themselves, but could stroll along their edge to get the logs.
You can feel death when it has hit a place. I was glad that I didn't have to work the fields myself, and had learned the carpentry trade. Therefore, I was spared from having to wander around there every day, among the echoes of past atrocities and sadness.
We were all in good spirits, strolling over the muddy ground, when all at once Zarina pointed up and into the clear night sky.
"Look, an angel is descending!" she exclaimed excitedly.
We all looked to where her outstretched hand pointed. A round light glowed in the night sky, glaring yellowish and shining strangely cold.
"It's singing! At Christmas! The Lord puts our feast under his sign!" Zarina cried.
We stopped and listened into the silence of the night. At first, I could hear nothing, at first, everything remained quiet, and only the distant beating of axes and the rustling of the wind in the treetops were audible.
But then, there in the wind, I could hear it, briefly but clearly. It was a kind of melodic whisper, joyful, yet also strange and otherworldly. It was heard only very briefly, and soon died away as the glow flew out of sight and disappeared somewhere far away.
"Let's go find the angel! Let's..." Zarina cried, continuing excitedly, but I interrupted her.
"We have to get the wood. We can report back to the village later, if it hasn't already been noticed there too," I said.
"You heard the singing! Surely that was an angel. Shall we leave it there? It may have gotten hurt, it must have hit something!" Sasha murmured.
Sasha was my oldest friend and one of the boys who worked on the fields. He had always been very caring and had always tried to help where he could. His parents were long dead and the old lady who had raised him was no longer around, either. So, he struggled along, working the fields, but the rest of us looked out for him.
"Shouldn't we go and look for it, Ilya?", Sasha continued to urge me anxiously.
We thought about it for a long time but decided to leave the decision to the others in the village. Trusting the Lord to guide our actions, we quickly moved on in the direction of the woodcutters to complete our task.
We were not the only ones who had seen the glow. When we returned to the village square loaded with logs, everyone was in great excitement and full of joy that the Lord had sent us this sign of His greatness. Not everyone agreed whether it was an angel or a return of the poinsettia that had been witnessed, but everyone was sure that the Lord had sent us encouragement. So, we celebrated our first Christmas full of joy and pleasure, with good food, dancing and singing, full of happiness and under the protection of the Almighty Lord. I will always think back to those days, always keep in my heart how I glimpsed a part of the Lord in the sky.
We all talked about the event and even the older people were fascinated and inspired. Even my grandfather and the others who had witnessed the worst death and misery in the world seemed to slowly find a spiritual peace they would never have dreamed of otherwise. They were happy and strengthened in their faith. However, we were not sure if it had really been an angel who had come down and so we hesitated to go and look for the creature of God.
But in the night, after the light had shone in the sky, I was awakened by Zarina crying in her sleep. I straightened up and slowly paced over to her bed, where in the semi-darkness she began to squirm, shaken by spasms.
"No, no, no..." she moaned painfully.
I began to shake her to wake her up. Zarina did not respond to me. Her face was like a distorted mask hiding something bad underneath. Her breathing became shallow, and she began to whimper. I was terrified and began to pray. The Lord had to save her, He just had to save her!
Zarina twitched more and more, started coughing and whimpering louder and louder. Slowly, the rest of the family woke up and my parents and grandfather huddled tightly around her, praying for her to open her eyes.
"Please, don't take our child! She has only been in your world for fourteen years..." my father cried, as panicked and desperate as I had ever seen before.
His thick, black mustache trembled with fear.
Then, abruptly, Zarina stopped convulsing.
For a terrible moment she just lay there, her hair disheveled, her face pale in the glow of the candle my mother held over her.
"Mom, Dad, Ilya, Grandpa... what's wrong?" she suddenly asked sleepily.
For a moment it was as if nothing had happened, as if I hadn't just seen my sister almost die, but then she began to cry.
"What's wrong, dear?" my father asked, just as pale in the face as Zarina.
It took a while before she found some calm and was able to talk to us.
Finally, she croaked:
"I saw the angel. I was with him."
A revelation? Had the Lord touched my sister?
We all said another prayer and finally, filled with awe, I asked:
"Where did you see the angel? Is it here? With us?"
She looked at me briefly, seemed to hesitate for a little moment, and then reported:
"I was with it… in a dream. It was in a white village, a village made of angel dust. I saw it. It didn't have wings and that's why at first I wasn't sure if it was an angel. However, soon it spoke to me."
"What did it say, Zarina?", I asked tensely.
"It said it was not God, but 'the Witness'. It sounded like a man and a woman and a child and a baby and... It felt peaceful. Calm and carefree. Then I woke up."
"An angel. Angels are the witnesses of God, that's how it must be!" my father said enthusiastically.
Suddenly, everyone seemed to be talking at once.
No one knew what Zarina's words meant, but we were sure that they contained something incomprehensible that we, as ordinary people, could not understand. But everyone was delighted. Everyone was caught in a beautiful dream.
The next day, the adults sat together in the large barn near the edge of the village, which was used for community events. Most of them found seats on the lined up wooden benches and the rest stood crowded against the old walls, some of which were already rotten. Dimitri, probably the closest thing to a mayor, sat at a heavy pine table at the end of the room, staring at the crowd, while my parents and Zarina sat on old chairs in front of him. Tensely, the crowd looked at them, waiting for someone to say something. Finally, Dimitri cleared his throat thoughtfully.
"You... all saw or heard about the falling star. It was brighter than the others that keep crossing our sky and much more... melodic. Some even heard the singing. Whoever still doubted that the Lord sent us his messenger... doubts are now useless. Zarina has received a vision. She has seen how the angel, who was sent by God, walked on our earth, and visited a village and consecrated it with its grace. She has seen the angel marching to spread holiness in these lands..."
"Are we sure?"
Mary, the dressmaker, had stood up. She was still young, my age and Sasha's, and she always wore her blond hair carefully braided, her dresses self-made, blood red and flashy, with silver embroidery. As always, she wore makeup - a luxury not many could afford. In other places she would have been considered a lady, but she was also a skeptical person, and I had not liked her very much since childhood, because she often made insinuations that seemed to go against the Lord. Also, she had never played with us outside and had always thought of herself as someone… better. I was shocked that she now so obviously doubted the Lord's actions.
"Mary. Zarina has seen a vision. The Lord spoke to her through her dreams! An angel has joined us. How can you deny it?" my father asked coldly.
"I'm not denying it, I'm just saying, what if there is something dark that the angel was sent to fight? What if it is going into battle against some unknown evil? The angel may be spreading sanctities, but we have no idea if it is trying to redeem us or defend us..."
"It said it was a witness of God," I noted.
"That's what Zarina said when she woke up."
"Then it is benevolent to us! We must find it!" someone shouted from one of the back rows.
An excited murmur began to spread through the room.
"Silence!" Dimitri thundered.
His face looked hard but determined.
"We have to get to it! If it is a message from heaven that the angel wants to bring us, we must hear it! How many can we spare? Who would even want to voluntarily leave the village? We don't know how long the journey will be, and you yourselves know how dangerous this area can be..."
A loud commotion broke out. Everyone shouted at once and volunteered. I also jumped up and loudly offered to go out to look for it.
The angel. The Witness of the Lord.
I imagined meeting it in a clearing, under a full moon. Hearing its bright voice, gaze in awe at its graceful form, and fall to my knees in prayer before it.
"SILENCE!" Dimitri shouted.
"You can't all go. The kids wouldn't make it in the deadly cold out there. Let seven go. Seven is the Lord's number, there must be seven! Seven workers from the fields! We can't spare any more!"
"You can't be serious!" I cried out.
Cold anger boiled up inside me.
"I want to go, too. We all want to. You can't just stand there and make a decision like that!"
Others joined in.
"SILENCE," Alexeij now thundered, the master blacksmith.
"We need you! Daniil, Ilya, Nikita, you have a job to do! We can't get by without you! You can't go, be reasonable!"
"But if the Lord wills it, he will make sure that everything here will work out. That nothing will happen!", I tried to argue, still boiling with anger.
"No. Winter is tugging at our huts, we need you," my father said slowly.
"So do the others. Without you, it's going to be tight. The fields lie under the snow, but everything else will be weakened by time and storms. We can only spare the field hands. Besides, they're the ones most likely to withstand the cold and the wilderness; after all, they're constantly out on the Fields of Death, toiling in the wind and rain. They'll all make the trip!"
I tried to change his mind, and several came to my aid, all those who were also forced to stay.
"You can manage without a dressmaker! I want to go too!" Mary cried defiantly, her cheeks red with anger, her nose wrinkled.
This young woman really believed she deserved the sight of the angel! She really believed her hypocrisies would deceive the Lord, despite her obvious doubts about His divinity!
Others also complained, young and old, many who didn't deserve to go and even those who did.
But it didn't help.
Dimitri was in charge. Everyone knew that. If we started to contradict him, our village would soon end up in chaos. And deep down I knew that I had to stay. That I had to take care of my sister, who would not survive a trip in the snow. That I had to repair the huts that the storms would eat away at.
Sasha was a field worker, he was allowed to go. Sasha and Sofia, Anatoly and old Igor, Ivan and Yulia and Mikhail. When the decision was made, a decision many of us accepted only with heavy hearts and which brought out deep envy in several faces, some of the chosen ones began to cry. They were happy, fulfilled... satisfied. They would see the messenger of the Lord, hear its melodious voice, sing its hymns.
Why wasn't I allowed to go? Why was the world so unfair? I had always believed in the Lord, prayed to Him, been subject to Him and lived according to His will. Why hadn't he chosen me to see his messenger? I had been so proud back when I had been allowed to learn the carpenter's trade and thus had not to go to the Fields of Death to toil there. At that time, I had felt like someone better when I saw Sasha and Sofia setting out early in the morning with all the other workers, with their old-fashioned plows and thick, shabby clothes.
Was this the punishment for my arrogance?
The Lord knew everything. He had seen what repulsive thoughts I had had, how superior I had felt to the others. Perhaps it was my punishment that I was not allowed to go. Perhaps the Lord was no longer favorable to me and I would have to prove myself to Him.
The next day, the seven set out north. They were seen off with singing and dancing; they were the center of the village’s attention. Envy threatened to drown me.
Why not me? Why wasn't I allowed to go? Why did I have to stay here?
And I knew: it was because of these thoughts. I wasn't pure enough. I had to get better, work on myself.
As the others disappeared from sight, as the small group seemed to be swallowed up by a patch of forest between distant trees, an icy chill ran down my spine.
What if they really did encounter evil? What if Mary had been right?
I prayed to the Lord that they would return home safely: Even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.
He would bring them home safely, our pilgrims. I did not begrudge them their happiness. I was not a selfish person, was not complacent like Mary or some others in the village. I lived by the word of the Lord and I would not begrudge them.
They would all return home safely.
I continued to stare into the distance for a long time as my suppressed envy sought to consume me. But I was winning.
For darkness is as light to you.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Even though the days and weeks passed, I never forgot to think of all those who had set out to witness the glory of the Lord. The cold winter had passed and frost and cold left the land, so that soon we could begin to prepare the fields for sowing. Since the sighting of the angel had caused us to let some of the farm workers leave, and they stayed away longer than we had expected, I had to join others in helping to plow the Fields of Death. The work was exhausting and made me physically very tired, since I still had to work in the carpenter's shop as well. We could not afford tractors, so we still had to resort to older tools. So, it happened that one day I was driving one of the hand plows through the dirty ground and was lost in my thoughts and full of sweat.
I was quite far away from the village, as the nearby surroundings had been worked shortly after the beginning of the thaw. The fields were extensive, partly reaching further than the eye could see. Only in one direction the dense forest extended, which introduced the beginning of a dark hilly landscape, that finally merged northward into high, alien mountains, whose white peaks rose high into the sky and, like once the tower of Babel, blasphemously tried to penetrate the heavens. But next to these distant giants there was only the plain, the vast plain that had to be tilled.
I hated the field work. And I hated the fields.
Every time I even thought about this piece of hell that had become reality long ago, my stomach turned. All the events that clung to this dark place, all the human lives and suffering that had sown the ground with death and blood here many years ago....
It was even worse when you stood in the fields yourself, truly being there on your own. It was as if I could smell it in the air, the rot of the starving and the hot blood that had watered the soil. It was as if I could still hear in the air the cries and wailing of the people who had met their end here, who had pleaded for their lives and the lives of their children and friends. It was as if I could see them in the early morning fog banks that lay on the Fields of Death, the shadows of people past, crawling and cowering, weak and starved. I had to pull myself together and look away, into the forest. A place does not forget, a place always remembers the days gone by and the cries that had been.
The plow pulled through the ground, ripping a furrow behind it. It was almost a bit comforting to imagine I was gutting this place of horror with my labor, inflicting deep wounds. Hypnotized, I stared down over and over again, watching the ground swirl to one side, smelling the fresh earth being pushed to the surface. But never could I escape my terrible feelings and the forebodings, never could I forget what kind of place I was at.
The few times I looked to the forest beside me, my thoughts wandered enviously to all those who had set out to find the angel. Had they reached it yet? Had they already learned from it what needed to be done for God's power on earth to be strengthened so that false prophets and promises could be swept away? How to drown the selfishness of the state? What needed to be done to serve the Lord?
Oh, how I would have loved to be there! How I would have loved to go with them, but I also understood the decision not to send everyone, and I understood my family's objections. I was needed here. I could serve the Lord here by tilling the fields and taking care of the soil and the sowing. I had to care for my sister.
I had already made several furrows when noon came. The sun was almost not visible, just a murky spot behind the clouds, and the fog had not lifted either. The world looked pale and apathetic. But amongst all the desolation I could suddenly hear something, something that seemed to come out of the forest.
It was at first just like a rustling in the wind that sounded a bit too regular, such that it triggered a natural uneasiness in me. I looked into the forest, but could hardly make out anything through the dense plants and the still lingering fog. That is why it was left to my own thoughts to imagine what was there, what was producing this strange noise.
I could not remember any animal that made similar sounds, was at a loss.
Suddenly, a bang echoed through the forest, accompanied by a panicked scream that broke inhumanly from the trees and spread across the fields.
Then, something new joined the sounds in the air.
The trees and bushes rustled, almost seemed to be torn apart.
Something was running through the forest, something seemed to be... coming right at me.
Was it perhaps a startled bear, an elk, or a wild boar?
Had one of the hunters from the village accidentally startled an animal, scared it in the wrong direction and now wanted to warn us with their cry? But then, why this panicked sound...?
I paused, took my hands off the rusty handles of the plow, and turned toward the forest. Still, I could only see fog, I could only hear rustling, but slowly I could also make out grunts and groans coming to me from the fog. It sounded heavy and panic-stricken.
Was I in danger? I began to pray to the Lord and ask him for assistance. I was not a fighter and so I had to hope that nothing would reach me from the depths between the trees that could easily tear me apart.
Even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.
My baptismal motto gave me courage. The Lord saw me, even in my darkness, and would be with me.
For darkness is as light to you.
Then, someone burst out of the bushes and the fog and rushed toward me.
It was Sasha.
I almost didn't recognize him. His skin was pale, almost snow-white. His black hair stuck to his sweaty face. His pants and jacket were almost completely torn, so I could see his dirty shirt and his cut and bruised legs through the holes. There were also some small cuts on his face that worried me. Sasha's eyes twitched searchingly, panicked, and in his hand, he held the rifle that he had taken with him when he had once set out. Apparently, he had run through brush and thorns, had gotten scrapes and wounds from stones and branches.
When he saw me and looked at me with his big, panic-filled eyes, I became horridly afraid.
It was as if… behind his eyes there was no Sasha anymore, but only an animal. As if instinct had taken over his thoughts when an unnamable terror had entered his world. An animal inside him, which had enabled him to escape from... something.
Sasha staggered out of the forest, it was almost as if all strength left him now that he was back home. The rifle fell from his hand and dug into the mud beneath his feet. He limped slowly toward me, not taking his eyes off me. Then, suddenly, he wheeled around and looked back into the forest and the mist.
Only for a moment.
Again, he let out a shrill scream and sprinted the last few meters. When I looked into the forest myself, I saw nothing, only the fog.
But, didn't I feel a presence there, in the bushes? Between the trees?
I didn't see anything.
Sasha had reached me and collapsed. I quickly knelt down next to him and called for help. But the other field workers had already rushed over, obviously attracted by the rifle shot. I was in a trance, seeing only Sasha lying there, supporting his head. His eyes were still twitching around and despite my proximity he didn't seem to recognize me. He looked at me, confused.
"Sasha, what happened?", I asked, feeling his forehead.
Despite his paleness, he was uncomfortably hot.
A fever raged in his body. Who knew how long he had been running around there among the trees, his protective, warming jacket torn? With wounds that had not been tended and some of which were still bleeding?
Then another horrible thought occurred to me.
"Sasha, where are the others? Sasha, where are the others?"
This question apparently brought back some clarity that his gaze had not possessed before.
"They... they took them. Took all of them... All of them. All our brothers, all our sisters... all of them," he gurgled.
*********
So, this is the first part of what I found. I will hurry to translate the rest! But I will definitely stay out of the woods for now... They are still as creepy as described by Ilya in this document and fog ist still around every morning... Also, I don't know what to make of Ilya himself as well, is he just a religious nut and that is the explanation? I just don't know...

Monday, May 29 - Sunday, June 04

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What’s the tastiest smoke you’ve had with the OCS? Let’s stick to things you can get now. There’s been some cool stuff in the past but it either changes or becomes unavailable and I’d rather not depress myself about it lol. Terp% used to be my go to for finding great weed, but now I feel like they inflate those numbers too.
Personally, really enjoyed the high street craft vac pack, specially the grape cake and the cookie crackle. Grape cake was nice and grape, if I recall correctly (it’s been a while) it’s not so different from organicrafts grape offering. Super smooth smoke too. Cookie crackle seems to be a room divider, but this is definitely because it’s a very pronounced taste. It’s funky and dank. Too funky for some!
Also I got a half oz of MTL strawberry guava and fuck me that was one of the best most pronounced strawberry tastes I’ve experienced in the legal market. Reminds me of legacy strawberry cough, but without the cough. For some reason I never stored this one in my heavy jars and I found it really dried out and lost it’s taste in a couple days. It made me sad because it was soooo good when I first opened it. Mostly sure this is just my poor handling.

Hi all fellow SimRacer's :))) So let's say Assetto Corsa on my my Monitor BenQ 24 inch runs on Medium-High settings no problem when i attach the PC to my TV on the simulator Philips 40 inch Full HD and i can't even play on Low settings ..... why is that .... Do i need better GPU or just to buy a 27 inch monitor second hand for no money and play ....
maybe even 3 27inch monitors for tripple monitor .....
​
Thank you in advance !

WARNING Preprint! Not peer-reviewed!
https://www.biorxiv.org/content/10.1101/2023.05.28.23290595

Pilot study of a ketogenic diet in bipolar disorder

Abstract

Background Recent evidence from case reports suggests that a ketogenic diet may be effective for bipolar disorder. To date, no clinical trials have been conducted. Aims To assess the recruitment and feasibility of a ketogenic diet intervention in bipolar disorder. Methods Euthymic individuals with bipolar disorder were recruited to a 6-8 week trial of a modified ketogenic diet and a range of clinical, economic and functional outcome measures were assessed. Results Of 27 recruited participants, 26 commenced and 20 completed the modified ketogenic diet at 6-8 weeks. The completeness of the outcomes dataset was 95% for daily ketone measures, 95% for daily glucose measures and 95% for daily Ecological Momentary Assessment of symptoms during the intervention period. Mean daily blood ketone readings were 1.3 mmol/L (SD= 0.77, Median = 1.1), and 91% of all readings indicated ketosis indicating a high degree of adherence to the diet. Over 91% of daily blood glucose readings were within normal range with 9% indicating mild hypoglycaemia. Eleven minor adverse events were recorded, including fatigue, constipation, drowsiness and hunger. One serious adverse event was reported (euglycemic ketoacidosis in a participant taking SGLT2-inhibitor medication). Conclusions The recruitment and retention of euthymic individuals with bipolar disorder to a 6-8 week ketogenic diet intervention was feasible, with high outcome measure completion rates. The majority of participants reached and maintained ketosis and adverse events were generally mild and modifiable. A future randomised controlled trial is now warranted.

Authors:

Needham, N., Campbell, I. H., Grossi, H., Kamenska, I., Rigby, B. P., Simpson, S. A., McIntosh, E., Bahuguna, P., Meadowcroft, B., Creasy, F., Moses, T., Burgess, K., Brown, R., Thrippleton, M., Mitchell-Grigorjeva, M., Norrie, J., Gibbs, M. C., McLellan, A., Fisher, C., Campbell, H., Smith, D. J.
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A 21 year old Ukrainian national has been arrested and charged with aggravated murder following a violent assault in Aylesbury town centre last night.
Thames Valley Police only confirmed the age and nationality of the suspect, but have not yet released his name.
According to eyewitnesses, in the early hours of the morning, Welsh got into an altercation with an unidentified male. The Ukrainian national - thought to be an immigrant who has been in Aylesbury for 5 months - is then said to have approached the victim - who has since been named as Wrayford High school sixth former Harry Welsh - and after the victim was said to have made fun of the suspect's language, reportedly saying "I don't speaking your f-ing Russian crap, speak some f-ing English, you dumb f-k", the suspect reportedly grabbed a metal pole lying on the side of the street and began to violently hit Welsh in the torso and around the head. Two other men - said to be Russian-speaking, "possibly Russian nationals" - joined in and proceeded to punch and kick Welsh violently.
"They were merciless," said one witness, a 19 year old hairdresser who wished to keep her identity anonymous. "This wasn't a punishment or a spur of the moment thing; the way they were going at it, they really wanted to murder him. It was extremely violent, the most violent thing I've ever seen in my entire life."
Police confirm that they are still looking for two other men who they have referred to as "accomplices to murder".
The murder of Welsh comes amid tensions in Aylesbury over the huge increase of economic migrants from Russia and Ukraine, after some locals accused immigrant groups from these two countries of "stealing jobs, terrorising local populations and taking over the streets".
According to last month's census, more than 1.7% of Aylesbury Vale's population are immigrants or documented residents from Russia and Ukraine, but some locals believe the percentage is far, far higher.
Police have confirmed that extra patrols have been stepped up in some neighbourhoods amid fears of violence erupting between Russian-speaking migrants and White British locals.
A memorial page has been set up for Welsh who is described by friends as "a talented water polo player". On Welsh's Facebook profile, he describes himself as an "avid sportsman" and plays as a left driver in the Wrayford Water polo club U19 team as well as for his school's U18 water polo team.
More follows.
https://pbs.twimg.com/media/DShkM0kX0AAxmlu.jpg

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I witness a really nasty road rage incident yesterday (Sunday) at Huron and State. A few cars were parked in the no parking except sundays spaces. One person got in their car and turned it on, so the driving lights were on and they wanted to pull out. The driver behind them really went to town dropping all kinds of profanities and then almost caused an accident flooring it in to oncoming traffic while still yelling. The thing is, besides that person having obvious rage issues, I think they thought they were in the right and this person was being stupid or parking illegally. Now, this is ann arbor, people need to chill because people are lost, there are tons of student drivers on the road, people are from out of town, people are old, etc. But in this case, huron is a fast two way street. Having one lane just have a car parked is unexpected. And with state street such a total mess right now I can see this being a much larger issue than normal on sundays because people have zero places to park to get to those businesses. What I wonder is how we can educate people about the sunday street parking, but there specifically I feel like they should just put up a lane closed sign or something, at least for now until the construction is done. Or a light up sign for sundays that says beware of parked vehicles. Again, this young kid just went off the deep end on the driver, but you can't read the "except sundays" on the signs, especially at night, so I blame him for being a real a-hole but I really don't think even now he knows he was wrong. What, if anything, could we do or bring attention to the city?
I think we all wish the state street stuff wasn't happening, but besides that, maybe the sunday only parking should have just been made permanent for the construction period. They've closed a lane on division for ages while they built that whole high-rise which isn't even city owned, this shouldn't be any different, people need to park to get to those businesses. Plus food delivery drivers, I feel for you, and restaurant owners that are missing deliveries because no one can get close.

Letterboxd list of all the participating movies: https://boxd.it/lOu1o
Results of Round 2
8 1/2 (1963) - Italy (32) beat The Battle of Algiers (1966) - Italy/Algeria (16)
Metropolis (1927) - Germany (54) beat The 400 Blows (1959) - France (18)
Fantastic Planet (1973) - France (35) beat Mirror (1975) - Russia (22)
My Neighbour Totoro (1988) - Japan (42) beat Fists of Fury (1972) - Hong Kong (19)
Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind (1984) - Japan (24) beat Night and Fog (1956) - France (17)
Nosferatu (1922) - Germany (52) beat Nosferatu: Phantom der Nacht (1979) - Germany (13)
Grave of the Fireflies (1988) - Japan (75) beat The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo (2009) - Sweden (37)
Amelie (2001) - France (43) beat Harakiri (1962) - Japan (30)
Andrei Rublev (1966) - Russia (28) beat The Host (2006) - South Korea (23)
Pan’s Labyrinth (2006) - Mexico (56) beat High and Low (1963) - Japan (28)
Parasite (2019) - South Korea (55) beat Hour of the Wolf (1968) - Sweden (23)
The Hunt (2012) - Denmark (19) beat Ikiru (1952) - Japan (17)
The Lives of Others (2006) - Germany (26) beat Il Decameron (1971) - Italy (8)
Battle Royale (2000) - Japan (34) beat Beauty and the Beast (1946) - France (21)
In the Mood for Love (2000) - Hong Kong (36) beat The Red Balloon (1956) - France (9)
Bicycle Thieves (1948) - Italy (36) beat Ip Man (2008) - Hong Kong (21)
The Seventh Seal (1957) - Sweden (38) beat Princess Mononoke (1997) - Japan (21)
Ran (1985) - Japan (82) beat Raise the Red Lantern (1991) - China (19)
Rashomon (1950) - Japan (39) beat Johnny Gaddaar (2007) - India (4)
The Virgin Spring (1960) - Sweden (17) beat Raw (2016) - France/Belgium (14)
Rififi (1955) -France (17) beat Chungking Express (1994) - Hong Kong (14)
City of God (2002) - Brazil (34) beat Cinema Paradiso (1988) - Italy (22)
Throne of Blood (1957) - Japan (19) beat Come and See (1985) - Russia (17)
Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2000) - Taiwan (24) beat La Jetee (1962) - France (21)
Das Boot (1981) - Germany (38) beat Tokyo Story (1953) - Japan (22)
Seven Samurai (1954) - Japan (35) beat Scenes from a Marriage (1974) - Sweden (6)
Solaris (1972) - Russia (21) beat Troll Hunter (2010) - Norway (5)
Umberto D. (1952) - Italy (15) tied with Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter…and Spring (2003) - South Korea (15)
Stalker (1979) - Russia (21) beat Wages Of Fear (1953) - France (14)
Suspiria (1977) - Italy (21) beat Werckmeister Harmonies (2001) - Hungary (8)
Winter Light (1963) - Sweden (16) beat Life is Beautiful (1997) - Italy (6)
Y tu Mama Tambien (2001) - Mexico (24) beat Like Water For Chocolate (1992) - Mexico (4)
M (1931) - Germany (22) beat Taste of Cherry (1997) - Iran (10) and Drunken Master (1978) - Hong Kong (5)
Man with a Movie Camera (1929) - Ukraine (10) beat Pather Panchali (1955) - India (9), and Z (1969) - Algeria (6)
Results of Round 3
Metropolis (1927) - Germany (17) beat 8 1/2 (1963) - Italy (14)
My Neighbour Totoro (1988) - Japan (21) beat Fantastic Planet (1973) - France (9)
Nosferatu (1922) - Germany (34) beat Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind (1984) - Japan (10)
Grave of the Fireflies (1988) - Japan (25) beat Amelie (2001) - France (17)
Pan’s Labyrinth (2006) - Mexico (17) beat Andrei Rublev (1966) - Russia (10)
Parasite (2019) - South Korea (22) beat The Hunt (2012) - Denmark (9)
The Lives of Others (2006) - Germany (14) tied with Battle Royale (2000) - Japan (14)
Bicycle Thieves (1948) - Italy (13) beat In the Mood for Love (2000) - Hong Kong (12)
The Seventh Seal (1957) - Sweden (22) beat Ran (1985) - Japan (18)
Rashomon (1950) - Japan (21) beat The Virgin Spring (1960) - Sweden (11)
Rififi (1955) -France (11) beat City of God (2002) - Brazil (8)
Throne of Blood (1957) - Japan (12) beat Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2000) - Taiwan (11)
Seven Samurai (1954) - Japan (15) beat Das Boot (1981) - Germany (14)
Solaris (1972) - Russia (23) beat Umberto D. (1952) - Italy (4)
Stalker (1979) - Russia (18) beat Suspiria (1977) - Italy (13)
Y tu Mama Tambien (2001) - Mexico (19) beat Winter Light (1963) - Sweden (7)
M (1931) - Germany (19) beat Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter…and Spring (2003) - South Korea (4), and Man with a Movie Camera (1929) - Ukraine (2)
Results of Round 4
Metropolis (1927) - Germany (21) beat My Neighbour Totoro (1988) - Japan (19)
Nosferatu (1922) - Germany (19) beat Grave of the Fireflies (1988) - Japan (10)
Parasite (2019) - South Korea (20) beat Pan’s Labyrinth (2006) - Mexico (19)
Bicycle Thieves (1948) - Italy (16) beat Battle Royale (2000) - Japan (9) and The Lives of Others (2006) - Germany (7)
The Seventh Seal (1957) - Sweden (11) tied with Rashomon (1950) - Japan (11)
Rififi (1955) - France (12) beat Throne of Blood (1957) - Japan (6)
Seven Samurai (1954) - Japan (18) beat Solaris (1972) - Russia (11)
Stalker (1979) - Russia (23) beat Y tu Mama Tambien (2001) - Mexico (12), and M (1931) - Germany (11)
Results of Round 5
Metropolis (1927) - Germany (25) beat Nosferatu (1922) - Germany (12)
Parasite (2019) - South Korea (20) beat Bicycle Thieves (1948) - Italy (12)
Rififi (1955) - France (15) beat The Seventh Seal (1957) - Sweden (11)
Seven Samurai (1954) - Japan (27) beat Stalker (1979) - Russia (20)
Results of the Final Four
View Poll

Hello City dwellers! HennyVille Reborn is calling all roleplay enthusiasts to join a unique groundbreaking server. Hennyville is new on the block, constantly pumping fresh content into the mix. This city never sleeps, with day members and night members ensuring there's always action.
Our PD squad is active, friendly, and knows how to have a good time. They're out there keeping the streets safe and making sure everyone has a blast. The early phases of HennyVille present a golden opportunity for all you ambitious folks. High positions are up for grabs, and they're easier to snag right now. Want to reach the top? Now's the time to dive in.
Starting with a solid 55k in your pocket, you'll have the foundation to thrive. Gangs? They're free to kickstart with three members. We don't mess around with pay-to-win nonsense. Premium content? It won't leave you broke. We've got sick animations and jaw-dropping rides that'll make you feel like a legend as you grind your way to the top.
Custom, Teen and kid characters are at your fingertips. Our rule list is short and simple, making it easy to jump in and start living your dreams. Did I mention interactive pets? Yeah, we got those too. Plus, player-owned businesses are ready for you to build your empire.
Streamer-friendly? You bet. We welcome all streamers to share their adventures with the world. HennyVille is all about equality and diversity. We're female-friendly with several badass female-owned businesses already making waves. And for my friends in the LGBTQ+ community, consider this your safe haven. We've got your back.
As a fresh server, we're building our civ job roster, but rest assured, they pay well. Legal or illegal, there are plenty of lucrative opportunities to line your pockets. Gangs, we've got your back too. Custom guns for your gang and safe zones to protect what's yours.
Some other things of note in the city include: drug scripts, New housing/ real estate script, Corner selling, New mining script, a wide and growing range of new clothing, Profitable drug prices, black market for guns, Black market for robbery items, some player owned businesses, arcade, Ems set up with cars fully done, heists, mining in with a hidden dude that will pay you more, spray painting / tagging, gang territory with the more you’re on the block and more you spray your color of the gang will be on the map, Jewelry Robbery, Anti Cheat, Robbery Prices Adjusted for higher pay, Items adjusted for things you can sale in city, Custom Strip Club, Females can be thicc (per request), paintball script with 4 custom maps including nuketown.
HennyVille may only be around 2 months old, but trust me, the future is bright. The city got mountains of updates and features on the horizon. on a final note, I'm not staff or admin here. I'm just a member, ready to help this city expand. So come on down and join the revolution.
if you have any questions feel free to ask in the city discord as i have limited knowledge of the inner workings of the city and whats to come but i know the city has a list of ever growing content inbound.
📞 Discord: https://discord.gg/ZTzdt5EQKR
#HennyVilleReborn #JoinTheRevolution

Hello City dwellers! HennyVille Reborn is calling all roleplay enthusiasts to join a unique groundbreaking server. Hennyville is new on the block, constantly pumping fresh content into the mix. This city never sleeps, with day members and night members ensuring there's always action.
​
Our PD squad is active, friendly, and knows how to have a good time. They're out there keeping the streets safe and making sure everyone has a blast. The early phases of HennyVille present a golden opportunity for all you ambitious folks. High positions are up for grabs, and they're easier to snag right now. Want to reach the top? Now's the time to dive in.
​
Starting with a solid 55k in your pocket, you'll have the foundation to thrive. Gangs? They're free to kickstart with three members. We don't mess around with pay-to-win nonsense. Premium content? It won't leave you broke. We've got sick animations and jaw-dropping rides that'll make you feel like a legend as you grind your way to the top.
​
Custom, Teen and kid characters are at your fingertips. Our rule list is short and simple, making it easy to jump in and start living your dreams. Did I mention interactive pets? Yeah, we got those too. Plus, player-owned businesses are ready for you to build your empire.
​
Streamer-friendly? You bet. We welcome all streamers to share their adventures with the world. HennyVille is all about equality and diversity. We're female-friendly with several badass female-owned businesses already making waves. And for my friends in the LGBTQ+ community, consider this your safe haven. We've got your back.
​
As a fresh server, we're building our civ job roster, but rest assured, they pay well. Legal or illegal, there are plenty of lucrative opportunities to line your pockets. Gangs, we've got your back too. Custom guns for your gang and safe zones to protect what's yours.
​
Some other things of note in the city include: drug scripts, New housing/ real estate script, Corner selling, New mining script, a wide and growing range of new clothing, Profitable drug prices, black market for guns, Black market for robbery items, some player owned businesses, arcade, Ems set up with cars fully done, heists, mining in with a hidden dude that will pay you more, spray painting / tagging, gang territory with the more you’re on the block and more you spray your color of the gang will be on the map, Jewelry Robbery, Anti Cheat, Robbery Prices Adjusted for higher pay, Items adjusted for things you can sale in city, Custom Strip Club, Females can be thicc (per request), paintball script with 4 custom maps including nuketown.
​
HennyVille may only be around 2 months old, but trust me, the future is bright. The city got mountains of updates and features on the horizon. on a final note, I'm not staff or admin here. I'm just a member, ready to help this city expand. So come on down and join the revolution.
​
if you have any questions feel free to ask in the city discord as i have limited knowledge of the inner workings of the city and whats to come but i know the city has a list of ever growing content inbound.
​
📞 Discord: https://discord.gg/ZTzdt5EQKR
​
​
#HennyVilleReborn #JoinTheRevolution

Top 30 Prospect Performance
Low-A Modesto

Prospect	Performance	Position	Age	Ranking
Cole Young	0-3, BB	Shortstop	19	Mariners #3
Gabriel Gonzalez	0-4	Outfield	19	Mariners #7
Tyler Gough	5.0IP, 8H, 1BB, 3ER, 3K	Pitcher	19	Mariners #24
Josh Hood	1-4, HR, R, 2RBI	Second Base	22	Mariners #29

High-A Everett

Prospect	Performance	Position	Age	Ranking
Harry Ford	1-3, BB	Catcher	20	Mariners #1
Axel Sanchez	0-2, BB	Shortstop	20	Mariners #15
Alberto Rodriguez	0-4	Outfield	23	Mariners #27

AA Arkansas

Prospect	Performance	Position	Age	Ranking
Jonatan Clase	1-4, 2B, R	Outfield	21	Mariners #12
Prelander Berroa	1.0IP, 1H, 2BB, 0ER, 1K	Pitcher	23	Mariners #14
Isaiah Campbell	1.0IP, 0H, 0BB, 0ER, 1K	Pitcher	25	Mariners #16
Robert Perez Jr	0-2, 2BB	Outfield	22	Mariners #21

AAA Tacoma

Prospect	Performance	Position	Age	Ranking
Zach DeLoach	0-3, BB	Outfield	24	Mariners #26

Unranked Excellence

Prospect	Performance	Level	Age	Positon
Randy Bednar	2-3, 2HR, 2R, 2RBI	High-A	24	Outfield
Ethan Lindow	6.0IP, 4H, 2BB, 1ER, 5K	AA	24	Pitcher
Darren McCaughan	7.0IP, 3H, 1BB, 1ER, 9K	AAA	27	Pitcher
Penn Murfee	1.0IP, 0H, 0BB, 0ER, 2K	AAA	29	Pitcher

Final Scores
Stockton defeats Modesto 8-3
Hillsboro defeats Everett 5-2
Arkansas defeats Midland 3-2
Tacoma defeats Sacramento 4-1
Highlights
No Highlights Today.
Standings

Affiliate	Record	Standings	Diff	Level
Modesto Nuts	25-26	3rd in division	+2	Low-A
Everett AquaSox	25-26	4th in division	+12	High-A
Arkansas Travelers	32-19	2nd in division	+43	AA
Tacoma Rainiers	28-29	2nd in division	+7	AAA

Prospect Performances Index.

"Guys? I'm the new Blue Ranger! Isn't that cool or what?"
It wasn't.
After Rocky was injured practicing for a martial arts contest to save a youth centre, he was visited by one of the kids that would've been greatly affected by its closing, a twelve year old called Justin. Hiding under his bed as Rocky's other friends arrived, he learned that they were the true identities of the Power Rangers. And with a new threat on the horizon, two former Rangers being captured, and their current Blue Ranger out of commission, both Rocky and Zordon agreed to give Justin the newly unveiled power. After this event, for some reason it was decided that Justin would retain this position, making him the full time Blue Turbo Ranger.

Legend

Unmarked - Power Rangers Turbo
M - Turbo: A Power Rangers Movie
IS - Power Rangers In Space

Unmorphed

• Staggers a monster with a kick
• Kicks a foe back
• Flips an alien with a kick
• Kicks a monster a distance away
• Kicks a large creature similar in height to the grown Power Rangers back into the air, knocking two others over^M
• Hit by the Yellow Turbo Ranger morph when it was stolen and animated by an alien
• Struck by energy

Blue Turbo Ranger

"Shift into turbo! Mountain Blaster turbo power!"

Strength

Striking

• Punches an enemy away^M
• Strikes back two foes at once
• Kicks a monster away
• Sends a monster flying back with a jump kick
• Breaks a sword with a kick

Other

• Leaps down a set of outside steps
• Backflips up a storey

Durability

Blunt Force

• Thrown into a tree
• Sent flying by a monster's pizzas
• Struck away by a monster^M
• Hit by a monster's car
• Seemingly hit off of a giant monster fire truck's ladder by a water tower

Other

• Leaps down a set of outside steps
• Exploded off of a cliff
• Blasted out of the Turbo Megazord
• Blasted away by the explosion from a giant enemy's energy beam
• Hit by a giant monster's electricity which creates an explosion
• Baked into a pizza, seemingly for ten minutes
• Is in the Command Centre as it's blown up

Speed

• Jumps onto a sword as it's stabbed at him

Equipment

Auto Blaster

• Releases a beam which slowly cuts through a metal pipe when they're shrunk down
• Breaks metal holding the Space Rangers chained in the air^IS
• A sustained beam from all the Ranger's blasters, plus the Phantom Ranger's weapon, destroys rubble
• Vaporizes instruments with a single blast each, including a full drum kit
• Has a turbo mode which release stronger blasts

Turbo Navigator

• Carries around a Turbo Navigator which automatically detects the presence of anything extra-terrestrial
  • Reacts to a detonator being placed nearby
• Can be converted into a weapon which shoots homing bolts, curving in the air to hit insects
  • Hits an invisible enemy from an incredible distance away

Other

• The morphers can teleport onto their wrists
• Can summon the Turbo Hand Blasters, which shoots energy blasts^M
  • These can be delivered by a small vehicle instead, which can join together with all of the Turbo Ranger's turbo weapons to release a single powerful attack
• Can summon karts to drive in

Mountain Blaster Turbozord

• Rams away another vehicle
• Fine after the boat it's in explodes, and drives on water^M
• Can shift between being the size of a regular vehicle and giant^M
• At least the Red Ranger's Turbozord be summoned directly beside him
• Can seemingly be driven while he's unmorphed^M

Siren Blaster Rescuezord

• Drives up a ramp to hit a giant monster in the mouth before getting struck away, riding back down a ramp
• Can transform into a bipedal form and back at a moment's notice, taking a monster's tail slam before doing so
  • Jump kicks a monster back
  • Gets electrocuted
  • Releases an energy attack

Storm Blaster

A sentient, alien car which Justin drives.
Physicals

• Hits over an enemy with its door before trapping the leg of another as they try to climb in
• Rams a monster a large distance away
• Falls a large distance
• Hit by giant propelled sawblades
• Takes a hit from a blade which cuts through metal
• Dodges energy beams while in space^IS

Abilities

• Extends the seatbelt to pull a person in, then launches a magnetic winch from the front to another car flying overhead, using it to be pulled into the air
  • Uses this winch to grapple a flying enemy, preventing them from escaping
• Fires an energy beam^IS
• Can fly^IS
  • Flies through space^IS

Other

• Holds a spare Turbo Morpher for Justin^IS

Other

• The headlamps on the suit work^M
  • These can create a special light to reveal a type of alien's footprints

Other

Strong Justin

In the episode Little Strong Man, a bite from a mutated ant made Justin 100x as strong as he should be for his size, but at the cost of not being able to morph.

• Flicks an enemy across a street
• Catches a mook's punch, lifts them into the air with one hand, then causes them to spin repeatedly
• Pulls off a pair of wooden doors
• Throws a shot put a large distance
• Clears a long jump pit
• Jumps over a pole vault bar without a pole

Other

• Somehow makes multiple flip kicks in a single jump
• Became the technical advisor to a track and field team
• Completes his placement test with an hour remaining, and gets called a prodigy that's welcomed into Angel Grove High when marked

The entirety of Harry "Truck" Hannah's major league career came with the New York Yankees -- all three years of it. But if you include his participation in the minors, he had a long career, beginning in 1909 with the Tacoma Tigers in the Northwestern League and ending in 1940 with the Memphis Chickasaws in the Southern Association. He is one of only a handful of players to have a hit in five different decades!
Of all the forgotten Yankee with memorable nicknames -- No Neck, Stanky the Yankee, Sailor Bob, Spud, Slow Joe, The Mummy, Birdie, Bump, and Grandma Johnny -- there's something to be said about the sublime elegance of a big, brawny catcher nicknamed Truck.
James Harrison Hannah Jr. was born 134 years ago today, on June 5, 1889, in what was then the Dakota Territory. (It would become the state of North Dakota about five months later.) By age 2, the family had moved to Seattle, Washington.
As a kid, he was called Harry, but by the time he was playing baseball, he was universally known as Truck. There are several stories as to how he got the nickname. Some said it had to do with his imposing size -- he stood 6'1" and weighed a solid 190 pounds -- and others because of the way he could block the plate as easily as a truck could block a street. Other sources say the nickname wasn't comparing him to a motor vehicle but to a horse, or rather a truck horse, as horses that pulled heavy wagons were called at the time. His daughter, Helen, said he got the nickname simply because he was "big and slow."
Another explanation, a little less colorful, was that Hannah paid the bills in the off-season by working as a truck driver!
Hall of Fame Umpire Billy Evans said Hannah was adept at the catcher's trick of distracting the batter with a steady stream of banter while behind the plate:

"Truck Hannah always has been an object of interest to me when catching. Aside from always doing a pretty good job receiving, he never failed to have a line of conversation that would make a bigger hit on the vaudeville circuit than some of the stuff used by some monologue artists. Hannah keeps up a continual chatter from the time the game starts. Of course, his conversation is largely directed at the batter, in the hope that his line of talk will take the mind of the batter from his work, the making of base hits. He seeks to keep the batter from concentrating, and from the many strikes slipped over by the New York pitchers, I would say there was merit in his system. Hannah's conversation is never objectionable. He usually has the batter laughing at some of his talk, rather than sore."

But Hannah used more than just banter to distract batters. As the pitch was being delivered, he would sometimes spit tobacco juice onto a player's shoes, toss pebbles onto the plate, or throw dirt at their hands on the bat!
Hannah got his start in professional baseball as a 20-year-old third baseman with the Tacoma Tigers in the Northwestern League. When the team needed an emergency catcher, Hannah was put behind the plate and stuck there for the rest of his career. Over the next five years he played for five different teams in four different leagues, until in 1914 finally catching on with the Sacramento Wolves in the Pacific Coast League. The PCL at the time was considered by some to be a third major league, or at least the minor league closest to major league competition, and Hannah was regarded as one of the best catchers in the league. He drew interest from several major league teams, including the Tigers, Phillies, and Browns. But it was the Yankees who finally acquired him, paying $4,000 to acquire his rights after he hit .292 in 569 at-bats in 1917.
Truck pulled into the Polo Grounds -- not Yankee Stadium, which wouldn't be built until 1923 -- as the foundation was being laid for a dynasty. Jacob Ruppert and Tillinghast Huston purchased the Yankees in 1915 and immediately set about reversing the fortunes of what had been for years one of the worst-run teams in the American League. The Yankees, as they became known in 1913, had only winning season in the last 10 years.
The new owners set about making changes, acquiring a number of valuable players: Wally Pipp, Home Run Baker, Ping Bodie, Aaron Ward, Urban Shocker, and previously forgotten Yankee Bob Shawkey.
After the 1917 season they made the biggest change of all, firing well-liked manager Bill Donovan and replacing him with former St. Louis Cardinals manager Miller Huggins, who over the next 11 years would lead the Yankees to six pennants and three World Series.
Huggins made another move, acquiring from the St. Louis Browns future Hall of Fame pitcher "Gettysburg Eddie" Plank and veteran second baseman Del Pratt. The latter would be a good player for the Yankees, hitting .295/.348/.394 (106 OPS+) over the next three seasons, but the 42-year-old Plank refused to report and retired instead. In return, the Yankees shipped out five players... including starting catcher Les Nunamaker, who had been with the Yankees for four seasons.
And so, needing a catcher to replace Nunamaker, the Yankees paid the Salt Lake City Bees $4,000 for Hannah. He was expected to battle 22-year-old Muddy Ruel to be the backup to the 25-year-old Roxy Walters, who had been Nunamaker's understudy since September 1915, but Ruel would be drafted into the U.S. Army and Walters broke his finger in an exhibition game 10 days before Opening Day. By the time Walters was ready to play again, Hannah was hitting .288/.432/.356 and had thrown out 19 out of 34 basestealers; over the rest of the season, he would maintain that pace to lead the league in CS% (55%) as well as in double plays as a catcher (16). His batting average would fade dramatically, however, dropping all the way to .220 by the end of the season, but he was still contributing with a .361 OBP in 312 plate appearances. Walters's bat never got started at all, and hitting just .199/.239/.236 in 205 plate appearances.
Technically a major league rookie when he joined the team, the 29-year-old Hannah was treated like a veteran from his four seasons in the well-respected Pacific Coast League. In addition, he was -- literally as well as figuratively, at 6'1" -- one of the few players on the team who could see eye-to-eye with the 6'2" Babe Ruth when he was acquired prior to the 1920 season. When Ruth got into squabbles with diminutive manager Miller Huggins, it was often Hannah's duty to keep the peace.
Yankee shortstop Roger Peckinpaugh, the Yankee captain from 1914 to 1921, described one such incident to long-time Yankee PR man Marty Appel in 1974:

"Once we were leaving Boston after a tough loss, and Babe was drunk, and he said he was gonna throw Huggins off the train! He was heading for his drawing room. On the way he stopped in the men’s room and punched this huge mirror. It fell into a million pieces. Me and Ernie Shore and Truck Hannah pulled him down to the ground and sat on him until he passed out. Truck — a big guy — puts him over his shoulder and moves him to the next car."

At the end of the season, the Yankees were happy enough with Hannah that they traded Roxy Walters to the Red Sox. For the next two years, the catching duties were almost evenly split between Hannah and Ruel, who was back from the Army with the end of World War I.
The "Muddy-Truck" tandem was colorfully named but disappointing, with Ruel hitting .255/.325/.306 (71 OPS+) in 560 PA and Hannah .243/.313/.317 (70 OPS+) in 553 PA. Catcher in those days was very much a defense-first position, and both had good gloves, but the Yankees (even with the newly acquired Babe Ruth having an 11.7 bWAR season) finished three games out of 1st in 1920.
Ruppert and Huston asked Huggins what the team needed to win, and his answer: a catcher.
At the end of the season, the Yankees sent Hannah back to the Pacific Coast League, and traded Ruel to the Red Sox for previously forgotten Yankee Wally Schang, the first in the long line of great Yankee catchers. In his five years with the Yankees, the switch-hitting Schang hit .297/.390/.406 (105 OPS+), and in the 1923 World Series -- the first of 27 won by the Yankees -- Schang played every inning of every game, went 7-for-22 (.318) with a double and three runs scored, and allowed just one stolen base.
Hannah would stay in the Pacific Coast League for the next 22 years as a player, coach, and manager. He had a great year with the Vernon Tigers in 1923, hitting .346 with 23 doubles and 6 home runs in 370 plate appearances. His final plate appearance came on May 19, 1940, when he was managing the Memphis Chicks. Two weeks shy of his 51st birthday, with both his catchers injured, Hannah caught both ends of a doubleheader and went 1-for-6.
Hannah retired from baseball two years later after his St. Paul Saints lost 15 games in a row -- 11 of them by one run! He said he couldn't sleep anymore, replaying every loss in his head over and over, second-guessing every decision he made as manager.
He retired to his ranch in Southern California, but remained active enough in the regional baseball scene that when the Los Angeles Angels played their first major league game in 1961, Hannah was selected to catch the ceremonial first pitch.
Truck Hannah died on April 27, 1982, five weeks shy of his 93rd birthday. His wife, Helen, died in October, a month before what would have been their 70th wedding anniversary.
Keep On Truckin':

• One of the more interesting aspects in researching information about Truck Hannah is in looking for pictures of him, you come across many photos of trucks owned by women named Hannah.
  
• Hannah made his major league debut against the great Walter Johnson. In his first major league plate appearance, he singled up the middle! He popped out his second time up, then struck out. His fourth time up he drew a walk against Johnson, advanced to second on a single, and scored his first major league run on a double, and the Yankees won, 6-3. Not a bad debut against the future Hall of Famer!
  
• According to his SABR biography: "Hannah’s daughter may have led a more interesting life than her ballplaying father. Helen Lorraine (Hannah) Campbell was one of the first women in Los Angeles to enlist in the Marine Corps during World War II, and retired from the Marine Corps Reserve in 1975 after 32 years of service. She was also a chaperone for several years with the Muskegon and Kalamazoo teams in the All American Girls Professional Baseball League, the league that inspired the 1992 movie A League of Their Own. At the age of 75 she went parasailing for the first time and at 78 sailed over Africa’s Serengeti plains in a hot-air balloon. She died in 2013 at the age of 97."
  
• On May 12, 1920, Hannah went 4-for-4 (all singles) with two runs and two RBIs in a 14-8 rout of the Chicago White Sox. Hannah singled twice in a seven-run 6th inning, as did pitcher Bob Shawkey; it was the first time in major league history that a pitcher and catcher each had two hits in the same inning.
  
• That was Hannah's best day as a major leaguer, but he had another four-hit day on September 11, 1920, with a double and three singles in five at-bats against the Cleveland Indians.
  
• Truck Hannah was the first major leaguer born in what would become North Dakota when he made his debut on April 15, 1918. He also is one of three Yankees born in North Dakota: Ken Hunt, an outfielder in the Yankee farm system from 1952 to 1960 who had a couple cups of coffee in the Bronx, and later played for the Angels and Senators; and long-time Cleveland Indians 1B/DH Travis Hafner, who ended his career with the Yankees in 2013. The most famous Yankee raised in North Dakota is Roger Maris, but he was actually born in Minnesota. The family moved to Fargo when Maris was 8 years old. A total of 20 major leaguers were born in North Dakota, and the best, by bWAR, was Angels outfielder and two-time All-Star Darin Erstad.
  
• Hannah is on the All-Palindromic Last Name Team, along with Dean Anna, Toby Harrah, Eddie Kazak, Dave Otto, Glenn Otto, Dick Nen, Robb Nen, Johnny Reder, Juan Salas, and Mark Salas.
  
• In 1917, Hannah was behind the plate for the Salt Lake City Bees in the Pacific Coast League when former New York Giants outfielder Fred Snodgrass came up to the plate for the Vernon Tigers. Hannah, by this time a 28-year-old nine-year minor league veteran and hitting a respectable .292, wasn't impressed. "So you're a big leaguer? I guess you're going to come out here and show us how the Giants used to do it, eh? Let's see if you can hit this one." That off-season, major league teams asked Snodgrass for his opinion on the top players in the Pacific Coast League, and his report on Hannah: "I don’t like him personally, but I must say he is the best all around catcher in this league, and my dislike for him does not blind me to that fact."
  
• George Halas -- who would later be the founder of the Chicago Bears -- was a 24-year-old rookie on the New York Yankees in 1919. He was on the bench sitting next to Truck Hannah during a game against the Tigers, staring wide-eyed as his boyhood idol, the legendary Ty Cobb, strode to the plate. Hannah, maybe pranking the rookie, told Halas he ought to razz Cobb to try to throw him off his game. Halas did as he was told, and to his surprise, got a reaction: Cobb dropped his bat, marched over to the Yankee dugout, and pointed at Halas. "Punk! I'll see you after the game! Don't forget, punk!" Halas, a Navy veteran and a college football player, was no punk but not exactly looking forward to a brawl against the famously irascible Cobb. He stayed in the locker room as long as possible, hoping Cobb would be gone by the time he emerged, but when he finally came out, the Georgia Peach was waiting for him. "I like your spirit, kid," Cobb said, "but don't overdo it when you don't have to." Halas said it was a lesson he never forgot.
  
• Speaking of Cobb, he told a sportswriter he didn't care for Hannah's distracting patter behind the plate: “This fellow Hannah of the New York club keeps me busier at the plate than any other catcher in the league. I don’t like letting a recruit outtalk me, and in my effort to keep my end of the conversation, I had my work cut out for me making base hits off those Yankee pitchers.”
  
• Carl Mays, who had pitched for the Red Sox since 1915, was acquired by the Yankees on July 30, 1919. Delighted to go from the 38-48 Red Sox to the 48-38 Yankees, Mays made the rounds in the clubhouse, shaking hands. When he got to Hannah, he offered his hand, but Hannah shoved him away, then charged after him. Mays backed up until Hannah vaulted over a table and cornered him against a wall -- and only then did Hannah shake his hand. "We're even," Hannah said, grinning. Since the previous season, Hannah and Mays had been feuding. Mays took great pride in keeping his uniform spotless, and hated Hannah's trick of spitting tobacco juice onto his shoes while batting. So every time Hannah came up to the plate, Mays came "up and in" to make him hit the dirt. In April, the last time they'd face each other, Mays plunked him. But now they were teammates and all was forgiven. Ironically, a year later, Mays would kill Cleveland Indians shortstop Ray Chapman with a pitch that hit him in the head.
  
• During the off seasons, Hannah played in the California Winter League, believed to be the only integrated league in professional baseball at the time. Hannah also played against Negro Leaguers when barnstorming with Babe Ruth in 1920 and Dizzy Dean in 1935.
  
• Prior to the 1927 season, Babe Ruth made a silent movie called Babe Comes Home. Based on a short story called "Said With Soap," it had quite the plot: Ruth is Babe Dugan, a ballplayer whose tobacco-chewing habit means his uniform is always stained. He falls in love with Vernie, the laundress who cleans the team uniforms, but she wants him to stop chewing tobacco. Babe then goes into a slump, and finds himself on the bench. Vernie finally relents and gives him a plug of tobacco, and Babe hits a game-winning home run. The movie was filmed at Wrigley Field -- not that one, but a field with the same name in Los Angeles. It was the home stadium for the Los Angeles Angels, and on the Angels were several ex-Yankees, including Truck Hannah. Ruth was much more interested in his old pals than in the movie, and the exasperated director struggled to keep Ruth's attention. Finally, he moved Ruth to a distant park of the stadium, as far away as he could from Hannah and the other ex-Yankees. But Hannah and the others kept mischievously hitting balls in his direction, causing Ruth to botch take after take!
  
• Hannah was in two movies himself, both times as a baseball playing extra. The films are notable because they are both early "talkies". His first appearance was in 1928's Warming Up, about a pitcher (played by Richard Dix, later a star in westerns) who falls in love with the team owner's daughter (played by Jean Arthur, who would later co-star with Jimmy Stewart in Mr. Smith Goes to Washington). A year later Hannah was in Fast Company, about a baseball player (Jack Oakie) who is inspired to greatness thanks to fan letters he thinks come from a beautiful woman (Evelyn Brent) but are actually written by his conniving manager (Skeets Gallagher). In 1940, Oakie was nominated for an Academy Award for his performance as a parody of Benito Mussolini in Charlie Chaplin's The Great Dictator.
  
• Joe DiMaggio, still a teenager, played for the San Francisco Seals in the Pacific Coast League from 1932 to 1935. Hannah, with the Los Angeles Angels, played against him often. Prior to DiMaggio's debut with the Yankees in 1936, a sportswriter asked the former big leaguer for his scouting report on DiMaggio. "They'll be comparing him to Tris Speaker and Harry Hooper and those fellows in a year or two," Hannah said. Truck was right: Speaker and Hooper were both Hall of Fame outfielders, and of course, so was the Yankee Clipper.
  
• In 1936, Hannah was a playecoach for the Los Angeles Angels. Ted Williams, already a legendary hitter (and pitcher) from his exploits at Herbert Hoover High School in San Diego, was being courted by both major and minor league teams. Ted's father, Sam Williams, was acting as his agent, and he arranged a meeting with Truck Hannah to talk about a contract with the Angels. "When my dad went down to talk to him, Hannah said, 'Where's the kid?'" Williams later recalled. "Dad says, 'He's not here.' Hannah said, 'Well, for crying out loud, go get him. He's the one I want to talk to, not you!'" Insulted, Sam Williams walked away. Instead, Williams -- after turning down offers from the Yankees and the Cardinals -- signed with the newly formed San Diego Padres of the Pacific Coast League. Had he signed with the Angels, Williams likely would have been a Cub, as they were a Chicago affiliate. (But Williams, a San Diego native, likely would have signed with the Padres even if Hannah had made a better impression.)
  
• Hannah's mouth almost cost his team another teenaged prospect. In 1934, 16-year-old Steve Mesner went to an open try-out for the Los Angeles Angels, and Hannah was helping to evaluate the prospects. He took one look at Mesner and shouted, "Get out of here, kid! You're too little!" Mesner started walking off the field, but someone told him to go back. During batting practice, he hit three balls over the fence! During a fielding drill, he was handling every chance, and the coach kept hitting them harder and harder, expecting the teenager to boot one. He didn't, and the team gave him a contract. Mesner hit .328 in three years with the Angels before going to the Chicago Cubs and later the Cincinnati Reds.
  
• The winter of 1918-1919 was gripped by the "Spanish Flu" epidemic and, in a scene that would be familiar to all of us today, the players, umpires, and fans in a Southern California winter league wore face masks during the game. A photo ran in the newspaper with the catcher misidentified in the caption as "Trash" Hannah of the New York Yankees!
  
• Hannah is a member of the Pacific Coast League Hall of Fame. Some sources say he was an inaugural member when it was created in 1943; other sources say he was inducted in 1950. Other notable Yankees in the PCL HoF include Frankie Crosetti, Joe DiMaggio, and Casey Stengel.
  
• Hannah's daughter, U.S. Marine Master Gunnery Sergeant Helen Hannah Campbell, went to Whittier High School with Richard Nixon, and later served as a docent the Richard Nixon Library and Birthplace in Yorba Linda, California. Richard Nixon, who grew up watching Hannah as a player and manager in the Pacific Coast League, said in a 1983 interview: "I remember Truck Hannah. He was a great catcher and could hit."
  
• In 1925, Hannah helped organize the Association of Professional Ball Players of America, created to assist former professional baseball players who are injured, elderly, or destitute. The APBPA is still in existence today!
  

Near the end of his career, Truck Hannah was interviewed about the rigors of being a catcher. He said during his 30 years in baseball he'd broken every finger on his right hand at least twice. "What the hell, it's all part of the game," he said. "It sure was fun while it lasted. Even with busted hands and fingers and everything else, I wouldn't have missed it for the world."