Official Tater Tot Casserole Advocate
I got lazy writing my last profile description, and it sucked. I'm not doing much better this time.
EDIT: Well I guess I'm doing a little better now.
Hello, my name is Evan. I am a 25-year-old Astrophysics major that is currently living in a very small town in Missouri. That being said, by the time this is read I may be living in Denver, Colorado (it's starting to look likely!). I have a beautiful wife and son that keep me very busy. I found this site several years ago, but really never posted until mid-last year. Since that time I have become pretty regular on here. I have learned quite a lot in my time spent browsing the forums, and like to offer my help or opinion when relevant. I will say, however, that there is a lot of info here that still eludes me. Maybe one day, this won't be so much the case.
My passion is a combination of tech, science, and philosophy. I am a proud American. I respect those that have served their country and the sacrifices they have gone through. And, to honor these sacrifices, I will defend the Constitution and the ideas it affirms. I am a proponent of freedom and self-responsibility to an extent For this reason, I see myself as a Democratic-Republican. I like to think of myself as a moderate, although considering they often get nothing done I would like to distance myself a bit from them. All too often I find myself sitting in the middle of a debate seeing the ignorance of both sides (although sometimes I need someone to show me my ignorance).
I, myself, have experimented in the past with certain drugs. Mainly Cannabis was* my go-to. TBH, it's sometimes the only thing that can relax me after a stressful day. At one point in time, I would have been that annoying guy advocating the "great benefit" cannabis has and very actively letting everyone and their mama know I was a stoner. Well, with time I realized how dumb this was. Not the smoking itself, per se, but the mindset I had regarding it. At this point, I smoke only because it relaxes me. It opens my mind. It allows me to look at a situation with a bit less ego than I would otherwise have. But, I wouldn't go so far as to suggest other people take the road I have. Really, it's to each their own. Now, I have dealt with stronger drugs (not like heroin, meth, or crack). Coke was one that I never really got into, although I did see some of my friends start to drift down the addiction road (luckily they pretty much all realized this early enough and were able to stop). Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed it, but I never found myself caring to "look for it," and thus, it became a thing of the past for me. Now, I mainly avoid most drugs. I do still smoke and I do enjoy my hallucinogenics, but that's about it. And, really, I don't have time for much these days anyway. Always busy working or with my family. :)
Well, I didn't expect to write this much or go into this kind of detail. I really decided to open up a bit with this, and I hope I am not severely judged for my flaws. There is likely more that will be added to this, although I don't know how long it will be until I do add more. So I guess, I will just end it with a "ta ta for now."
"Socialism, like the ancient ideas from which it springs, confuses the distinction between government and society. As a result of this, every time we object to a thing being done by government, the socialists conclude that we object to its being done at all. We disapprove of state education. Then the socialists say that we are opposed to any education. We object to a state religion. Then the socialists say that we want no religion at all. We object to a state-enforced equality. Then they say that we are against equality. And so on, and so on. It is as if the socialists were to accuse us of not wanting persons to eat because we do not want the state to raise grain. I do not dispute their right to invent social combinations, to advertise them, to advocate them, and to try them upon themselves, at their own expense and risk. But I do dispute their right to impose these plans upon us by law – by force – and to compel us to pay for them with our taxes."
- Frédéric Bastiat
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I had started something here but there are just too many people to list. This website is a wealth of knowledge if you know where and how to look for it. Don't be afraid to ask a question in the forums and some intelligent (and some questionable) people will be there to try and help you.
Turn off and unplug the power supply.
Wait 5 minutes for all of the power to drain from the system.
Unplug all fan/power/data connections inside and outside of your case.
Also, disconnect the RAM and dedicated GPU (if you have one).
Reconnect all cables, RAM, and GPU. Try to start your PC.
If this doesn't work remove all but one RAM stick, the CPU fan, and all MoBo/CPU power cables.
All that should be connected to your MoBo at this time is 1 RAM stick, the CPU fan, and the power cables for the MoBo.
Use a screwdriver or small piece of metal to jump start your MoBo using the front header MoBo port's "+" and "-" prongs.
If your PC starts, then reconnect one component at a time until all components are reconnected.
If it doesn't start, replace the RAM stick with the other one and retry from step #7.
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"^ this" -without space separating the character from the word
- first - second - third
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Feature | Yes | No :----|:----|:---- Product | Descriptor | Descriptor Product | Descriptor | Descriptor Product | Descriptor | Descriptor Product | Descriptor | Descriptor Product | Descriptor | Descriptor Product | Descriptor | Descriptor
Top Comment - I think.
Written just now, for the sake of it, lol. (warning it's kind of sad and likely riddled with plot holes and spelling errors)
As the man walked home from a long day at work, passing by the blooming willow trees, He thought to myself about the way his life had become. He was not an up-happy man, but he had not achieved the goals he once envisioned he would. By this time he thought that he would be well on his way to becoming an actor, living the life of movie stars. Going to late night parties, driving fast cars, flying in private jets to various parts of the world on a whim. But, this was not to be. Instead he was a school house teacher, shaping the minds of future generations. Twelve years prior he had taken this job simply to pay the bills while he took late night acting classes. But, what was intended to be an end to a mean took a route that he could not have predicted.
He sat there, at his mothers bedside. The sunlight was shining through the gaps in the window blinds. It felt warm on his skin. The smell of the room was somewhat stale and told the story of all the people that had resided in this room before. The sound of the ventilator kept a constant pace, marking the seconds as they passed by. It was about 12:30PM. It was only three hours prior that he had been startled in class by a phone call. On the other end of the line was a gruffy deep voice. He was not familiar with this voice, but soon realized why. The man on the other line asked if his name was Mark Sanders. He said, "yes, how can I help you?" The man with the mysterious voice said then said "I'm sorry to tell you this, but there has been an accident. You're mother was in a car accident and we need you to come to the hospital."
Mark's heart sank in a combination of sadness and worry. He informed the school office that he would have to leave, and briskly went on his way. He worried about the condition his mother might be in, hoping that there was mix-up and they had the wrong person. About twenty minutes later he arrived at the hospital. When he checked in with the nurse at the receptionist desk she told him that his mother was in room 203 and that there was a doctor outside the room waiting to speak with him. The elevator seemed to take forever to Mark, so he decided to take the stairs. As he was walking up the two flights he noticed a bit of graffiti on the wall be didn't stop to look at it.
He reached the door to the second floor and began looking for room 203. He didn't have far to go. The room was just a little ways down from the stairs entrance. As the nurse had said, there was a doctor standing in front of the door reviewing charts. Mark walked up and introduced himself to the doctor. The doctor looked at him with a pained look. It was this moment that he knew for sure that this was no error. The doctor proceeded to tell him that his mother was in an accident, and that it was very severe. She had been ejected from the window and landed in a field after hitting another car head on. Mark asked if she would be okay. The doctor looked back and him, and with a tone of voice that carried sympathy, but also the experience of having this conversation many times before, said "It's quite unlikely. You're mother sustained substantial damage to her head and torso. She has serious fractures to her legs, pelvis, and arms. Unfortunately, she has swelling of the brain. We had her in surgery for 4 hours attempting to reduce the swelling, but so far it doesn't appear that it was effective. She is currently unconscious and the next 24 hours will likely determine whether she wakes back up or not. I am very sorry." Mark asked the man if he would be able to see his mother. The doctor said that he could, but he would need to prepare himself for the condition she was in. Mark took a few moments, and then walked in the door.
The sight he saw before him took him to his knees. His mother, the woman that had encouraged and helped him pursue his goals, that took care of him throughout childhood after his father abandoned them was lying motionless, wrapped in bandages on the bed before him. While she had significant swelling to the face, he still recognized the loving woman he had spent his life admiring. He sat down at the bed and wept. He wept for his mother and the condition she was in. Wept for the pain that he knew she must have endured. He wept out of fear that she would never wake up. And, with internal disappointment, he wept out of fear that his rock, the person that kept him grounded in this world would soon be gone. This last reason caused him to feel selfish. He told himself that this isn't about me, it's about her. So he sat. He stayed by her bed, holding her hand for hours. What was once the warm sensation of sunlight on his skin was replaced by cool light of the full moon. He nodded off.
He woke a couple of hours later, still holding his mothers hand. But, he sensed something was wrong but he couldn't tell what. He decided to go talk to a nurse and have them check on her. They already had during the time that he was sleeping, but he didn't know that. The nurse, busy with her other charges seemed annoyed at the request to check on his mother, but she complied and followed him into the room. It was no more than a few seconds after entering the room that the monitor, keeping track of her blood pressure and heart rhythm, began to sound an alarm. Within twenty seconds the room was full of doctors and nurses. Mark didn't want to get in there way so he stepped back and watched as they examined her. Her heart had stopped beating. They attempted rescue compressions, working with a precision that only professionals have. They continued to try and resuscitate her for what felt to Mark like an eternity. He was in shock, his face blank. After an uncountable amount of time, the doctor looked at the clock and said "Time of Death: 9:49PM." Even though Mark heard this, it didn't sink in. In his mind he was still in denial about the situation, much less that his mother had just passed away before his eyes. One of the many doctors approached him and said "I'm so sorry for your loss." It was at this moment that the entirety of the situation; the crash, the condition of his mother, her dying all sunk in. He fell to the ground and balled. The doctor helped him up after a few minutes. Mark asked if he could see his mother, so the doctor helped him over to her bed. Mark caressed he hair, and held her hand. She was still warm but he could tell the life had left her.
Three years later he still thought of her everyday. He still missed her. But, the pain had faded and he had accepted what had happened. The police later told him that the accident was caused by a downed power line. His mother had noticed it and attempted to drive around it, but the other driver did not. This gave him no solace. He felt betrayed by the world. The one person he had to care for, and who cared for him was gone. After the accident he couldn't bring himself to return to acting classes. It reminded him too much of his mother and her enthusiasm for him to make it big. They had always joked about how they would ride in those jets together and go see the world, something they weren't able to do while he was growing up. So, he resigned himself to his fate of remaining in the small town he had grown up in.
The times passed and the man grew older. After some time he had found a renewed joy in teaching. He still didn't have anybody in his life that he could say he loved. But, he had his students. He remembered the lessons his mother had taught him, and, in tern taught those lessons to his students. This brought him peace in the sense that he was continuing her legacy in a way. It wasn't the life he had intended on living. It was far from the glamour and the wealth he once dreamed about. But, surprisingly even to himself, he no longer yearned for that lifestyle. He would walk home everyday rather than drive so that he could think and daydream. The willow trees smelled good. The sounds of the birds chirping made him smile. And, the warmth of the Sun reminded him of his mother, if not during the best of times. While his life took a different route than he had imagined he was happy.
We all face tough times from time to time. Stay strong and keep moving forward. We can't get to the top of the mountain without the climb.
If you are ever contemplating self harm or suicide, please call 1-800-273-8255 and speak with someone. There are always people out there that want to help. We just need to take the first step sometimes.