A small tool to view real-world ActivityPub objects as JSON! Enter a URL
or username from Mastodon or a similar service below, and we'll send a
request with
the right
Accept
header
to the server to view the underlying object.
{
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"type": "OrderedCollectionPage",
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"attributedTo": "https://www.minds.com/api/activitypub/users/1106580498882240513",
"content": "‘The secret to happiness is freedom; the secret to freedom is courage’ — Thucydides<br /><br /><a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=revolt\" title=\"#revolt\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#revolt</a>",
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"published": "2020-05-15T23:35:00+00:00",
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"content": "‘The secret to happiness is freedom; the secret to freedom is courage’ — Thucydides\n\n#revolt",
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"attributedTo": "https://www.minds.com/api/activitypub/users/1106580498882240513",
"content": "“In the beginning of a change the patriot is a scarce man, and brave, and hated and scorned. When his cause succeeds, the timid join him, for then it costs nothing to be a patriot.” — Mark Twain<br /><br /><a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=revolt\" title=\"#revolt\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#revolt</a>",
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"published": "2020-05-15T23:28:20+00:00",
"source": {
"content": "“In the beginning of a change the patriot is a scarce man, and brave, and hated and scorned. When his cause succeeds, the timid join him, for then it costs nothing to be a patriot.” — Mark Twain\n\n#revolt",
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"content": "<a href=\"https://www.brandonquittem.com/bitcoin-is-the-mycelium-of-money/\" target=\"_blank\">https://www.brandonquittem.com/bitcoin-is-the-mycelium-of-money/</a><br /><br /><a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=bitcoin\" title=\"#bitcoin\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#bitcoin</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=crypto\" title=\"#crypto\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#crypto</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=economy\" title=\"#economy\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#economy</a>",
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"published": "2020-05-15T18:58:27+00:00",
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"content": "https://www.brandonquittem.com/bitcoin-is-the-mycelium-of-money/\n\n#bitcoin #crypto #economy",
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"content": "Gallente Prime - Villore<br /><br />Emilien was waiting patiently outside the boardroom, he looked at the guard and noticed the sideways glance. “What are you looking at.” He hissed. “You a capsuleer?” “Maybe.” The guard did not follow up the question. The door slid open and a neatly groomed secretary beckoned at him. “Mr Justeu is ready for you.” “Thank you sweetheart.” He brushed past her sticking an evil grin right in her face, she gagged. “Welcome Mr Emilien I hope you had a good trip.” The banking CEO greeted with outstretched arms. “Nice suit, I always have good trips. Is it very expensive?” “More than you know.” The CEO smugly responded while opening a cabinet containing various flasks filled with different hues of alcohol. “I know quite a lot.” Emilien licked his lips and accepted the drink without hesitation. “I always thought you capsuleers were very paranoid about accepting drinks.” The spacer swallowed the strong fluid and smiled. “I have a clone ready. And an implant that links me directly to my pod. Don't think that if I have to wake up in a fresh body that I would’nt remember this place, including your mug.” The banker nodded in amusement. “Excellent, excellent. The reason we contacted you Mr Emilien, is because we are in business...” The capsuleer promptly helped himself to a second glass of... whatever alcohol it was, anticipating a speech and a job description. “the business of war. Currently we are supplying arms to the Gallente fleet, who are at war with the Amarr Empire. The Amarr are for the most part, boycotting our factories... which is a shame really, but understandable. The Caldari are supporting our enemy logistically yet have not joined them in active combat. The capsuleer seemed marginally interested in the monologue, the banker continued with his rehearsed proposal. We are trying to coax Minmatar aggression, but they have occupied themselves in... other endeavours and don't seem as willing as usual to assault Amarr space.” The capsuleer frowned and feigned curiosity. “Why would that be?” He interjected. “We are not sure... don't interrupt me, you break my train of thought.” The banker lied and it did not escape the capsuleer's attention. “Continue by all means.” He waved a bottle at the director. “If we get the upper hand in this war we could control vital Amarr territories, the profits our company could absorb from the moons and planets would be virtually tax free and help to continue fund the war effort...” Emilien cut him off. “I watch your news propaganda...” Emilien slowly sat upright and uncannily acted like a popular Gallente news anchor. “Breaking news. The Amarr Empire are allegedly oppressing... slaves, it is reported that the war has driven them to desperation and are driving their labour forces harder than what is... morally justifiable. Any petitions made or pleas for leniency, no matter how trivial is met with... corporal punishment. We must be vocal about their plight and continue to call for their... freedom and liberty. You are with The Report. See you next time, Peace.” The capsuleer mockingly mimics the patriotic news anchor's monotone while folding up and shifting around imaginary papers. Justeu frowned. Emilien slouched back into his chair. “What would you have me do boss?” The banker remained silent for a moment then opened comms to an unknown man whose face was not visible but dressed in similar costly apparel. “I am not sure about the character of Mr Emilien, should we not rather employ one of our own for this contract.” “There is no one else with the expertise and or reputation required for this mission and he has no prior connections with our corp. Justeu, just hire the man and stop whining like a little bitch! I don't need this type of crap. This was prearranged, irrespective of your opinions. We make the decisions and you explain to the people what we require of them. So explain to the space clone what we need him to do and how much we are going to pay him for it!” The silence was awkward. “Yes sir.” The banker was keeping good composure under the circumstances. The comms line closed and Emilien was grinning like an idiot. “How much are you going to pay me?” “Don't you want to know details of the job concerned?” “No. Just show me the figures in Isk.” The director handed him a pad. Emilien looked at the glowing screen and smiled again. “I accept this mission.” He glanced over his shoulder at the secretary who was quietly recording the conversation, and said. “Doing anything tonight sweetheart?” She grimaced. Emilien stood up, “Justeu, I have to go, need to prepare for whatever it is you corporation billionaires are going to make me do.” “Don't you want to know the details?” “Send the info to my pod.” “It is sensitive information.” Emilien pointed his index finger at Justeu who looked dismayed for the first time. “I have a secure line... bitch.”<br />The capsuleer walked out of the room stopped, looked back grinning an impossibly large grin, winked at the lady and blew her a kiss. “See you later sweetheart.” The door slid closed.<br /><br />Moro III<br /><br />Cleolia was summoned to the study by her husband late at night. Dressed in a nightgown she entered the door to see him staring down at a large data pad. “When did we start using electronics?” She questioned with puzzled amusement. “Since we started using extractors.” Cleolia gasped. Domitius pointed towards the pad which displayed a geographical map of Moro III. He pulled the image to the latitude and longitude of the colony. “Do you remember when we came here the first time, just you and me alone?” Domitius seemed to reminisce romantically. “Of course, it is impossible to forget.” Cleolia smiled appreciatively. “Can you show me on the map where we landed and where we camped?” She put her hand on the data pad, swiped the image down and the reading north about three hundred kilometres from the colony to stop at the meandering river. With her thumb and index finger she zoomed to the precise location. “And do you remember where I scanned those geo samples?” She pulled the image east slowly until she thought that the contours looked familiar. “Here I think.” Was her uncertain reply. “That is correct. My love, listen to me, the composition of that rock cannot be penetrated by standard tier scanners. Some months after we left the planet I contracted a capsuleer to tunnel and excavate into that cliff.” “Why?” “Inside the cavern he assembled two shuttles. The twins are each fitted for speed... with shields, cloaks and warp stabilisers.” “Why are you telling me this?” Cleolia became worried. “I originally planned to be able to evacuate the entire colony, slaves included. We knew very little about the planet and I had to plan for a possible emergency. Natural disasters, plagues, novas, atmospheric anomalies, slave revolt, military invasion...” He trailed off. “Nevertheless, it is a very extensive list of possible risks we might have faced. But the colony has expanded far beyond the capacity of these ships. I share this information with you only as a precaution... We must protect our son.” Cleolia noticed his bloodshot eyes.<br />“Who else knows of this?” “Myself, Father Ecknard and now you.” “You are tired my love. Come to bed.” Domitius wearily obeyed.<br /><br />",
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"url": "https://www.minds.com/newsfeed/1107351169031188480",
"published": "2020-05-13T16:58:12+00:00",
"source": {
"content": "Gallente Prime - Villore\n\nEmilien was waiting patiently outside the boardroom, he looked at the guard and noticed the sideways glance. “What are you looking at.” He hissed. “You a capsuleer?” “Maybe.” The guard did not follow up the question. The door slid open and a neatly groomed secretary beckoned at him. “Mr Justeu is ready for you.” “Thank you sweetheart.” He brushed past her sticking an evil grin right in her face, she gagged. “Welcome Mr Emilien I hope you had a good trip.” The banking CEO greeted with outstretched arms. “Nice suit, I always have good trips. Is it very expensive?” “More than you know.” The CEO smugly responded while opening a cabinet containing various flasks filled with different hues of alcohol. “I know quite a lot.” Emilien licked his lips and accepted the drink without hesitation. “I always thought you capsuleers were very paranoid about accepting drinks.” The spacer swallowed the strong fluid and smiled. “I have a clone ready. And an implant that links me directly to my pod. Don't think that if I have to wake up in a fresh body that I would’nt remember this place, including your mug.” The banker nodded in amusement. “Excellent, excellent. The reason we contacted you Mr Emilien, is because we are in business...” The capsuleer promptly helped himself to a second glass of... whatever alcohol it was, anticipating a speech and a job description. “the business of war. Currently we are supplying arms to the Gallente fleet, who are at war with the Amarr Empire. The Amarr are for the most part, boycotting our factories... which is a shame really, but understandable. The Caldari are supporting our enemy logistically yet have not joined them in active combat. The capsuleer seemed marginally interested in the monologue, the banker continued with his rehearsed proposal. We are trying to coax Minmatar aggression, but they have occupied themselves in... other endeavours and don't seem as willing as usual to assault Amarr space.” The capsuleer frowned and feigned curiosity. “Why would that be?” He interjected. “We are not sure... don't interrupt me, you break my train of thought.” The banker lied and it did not escape the capsuleer's attention. “Continue by all means.” He waved a bottle at the director. “If we get the upper hand in this war we could control vital Amarr territories, the profits our company could absorb from the moons and planets would be virtually tax free and help to continue fund the war effort...” Emilien cut him off. “I watch your news propaganda...” Emilien slowly sat upright and uncannily acted like a popular Gallente news anchor. “Breaking news. The Amarr Empire are allegedly oppressing... slaves, it is reported that the war has driven them to desperation and are driving their labour forces harder than what is... morally justifiable. Any petitions made or pleas for leniency, no matter how trivial is met with... corporal punishment. We must be vocal about their plight and continue to call for their... freedom and liberty. You are with The Report. See you next time, Peace.” The capsuleer mockingly mimics the patriotic news anchor's monotone while folding up and shifting around imaginary papers. Justeu frowned. Emilien slouched back into his chair. “What would you have me do boss?” The banker remained silent for a moment then opened comms to an unknown man whose face was not visible but dressed in similar costly apparel. “I am not sure about the character of Mr Emilien, should we not rather employ one of our own for this contract.” “There is no one else with the expertise and or reputation required for this mission and he has no prior connections with our corp. Justeu, just hire the man and stop whining like a little bitch! I don't need this type of crap. This was prearranged, irrespective of your opinions. We make the decisions and you explain to the people what we require of them. So explain to the space clone what we need him to do and how much we are going to pay him for it!” The silence was awkward. “Yes sir.” The banker was keeping good composure under the circumstances. The comms line closed and Emilien was grinning like an idiot. “How much are you going to pay me?” “Don't you want to know details of the job concerned?” “No. Just show me the figures in Isk.” The director handed him a pad. Emilien looked at the glowing screen and smiled again. “I accept this mission.” He glanced over his shoulder at the secretary who was quietly recording the conversation, and said. “Doing anything tonight sweetheart?” She grimaced. Emilien stood up, “Justeu, I have to go, need to prepare for whatever it is you corporation billionaires are going to make me do.” “Don't you want to know the details?” “Send the info to my pod.” “It is sensitive information.” Emilien pointed his index finger at Justeu who looked dismayed for the first time. “I have a secure line... bitch.”\nThe capsuleer walked out of the room stopped, looked back grinning an impossibly large grin, winked at the lady and blew her a kiss. “See you later sweetheart.” The door slid closed.\n\nMoro III\n\nCleolia was summoned to the study by her husband late at night. Dressed in a nightgown she entered the door to see him staring down at a large data pad. “When did we start using electronics?” She questioned with puzzled amusement. “Since we started using extractors.” Cleolia gasped. Domitius pointed towards the pad which displayed a geographical map of Moro III. He pulled the image to the latitude and longitude of the colony. “Do you remember when we came here the first time, just you and me alone?” Domitius seemed to reminisce romantically. “Of course, it is impossible to forget.” Cleolia smiled appreciatively. “Can you show me on the map where we landed and where we camped?” She put her hand on the data pad, swiped the image down and the reading north about three hundred kilometres from the colony to stop at the meandering river. With her thumb and index finger she zoomed to the precise location. “And do you remember where I scanned those geo samples?” She pulled the image east slowly until she thought that the contours looked familiar. “Here I think.” Was her uncertain reply. “That is correct. My love, listen to me, the composition of that rock cannot be penetrated by standard tier scanners. Some months after we left the planet I contracted a capsuleer to tunnel and excavate into that cliff.” “Why?” “Inside the cavern he assembled two shuttles. The twins are each fitted for speed... with shields, cloaks and warp stabilisers.” “Why are you telling me this?” Cleolia became worried. “I originally planned to be able to evacuate the entire colony, slaves included. We knew very little about the planet and I had to plan for a possible emergency. Natural disasters, plagues, novas, atmospheric anomalies, slave revolt, military invasion...” He trailed off. “Nevertheless, it is a very extensive list of possible risks we might have faced. But the colony has expanded far beyond the capacity of these ships. I share this information with you only as a precaution... We must protect our son.” Cleolia noticed his bloodshot eyes.\n“Who else knows of this?” “Myself, Father Ecknard and now you.” “You are tired my love. Come to bed.” Domitius wearily obeyed.\n\n",
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"id": "https://www.minds.com/api/activitypub/users/1106580498882240513/entities/urn:activity:1107351169031188480/activity"
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{
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"content": "The future of gaming. When kids have bigger accounts than their parents...<br /><br /><a href=\"https://lightnite.io/\" target=\"_blank\">https://lightnite.io/</a><br /><br />Earn BITCOIN when you kill an opposing player.",
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"published": "2020-05-13T16:24:52+00:00",
"source": {
"content": "The future of gaming. When kids have bigger accounts than their parents...\n\nhttps://lightnite.io/\n\nEarn BITCOIN when you kill an opposing player.",
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"id": "https://www.minds.com/api/activitypub/users/1106580498882240513/entities/urn:activity:1107342782631993344/activity"
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"content": "Seven YC later.<br /><br />Albin was lying on a two meter high rock formation. It was warm from the sun but he dared not move. His adrenaline was pumping but he would scarcely take a breath for fear of being heard. His thumping heart was so loud it made him paranoid. He crawled forward and peeked over the edge of the low precipice. A dangerous and savage escaped slave was on his trail, ready to scalp and gut him. If only he could get to his safe spot. He heard a long low whistle from across the valley. A light flashed from amongst some dense shrubbery at an estimated two hundred metres away. He pulled a mirror from his own pocket ready to return the signal. “This increases my chances.” He whispered to himself. He knew that their enemy was behind him and could not possibly see the reflection of Moro light if he directed said light perpendicularly away from the hunter. He flashed with his mirror five times towards his ally, two second counts between each flash. No immediate response... he waited. Light flashed from the shrubbery and immediately he became aware of movement in the grass behind him. He resisted the urge to look back over his shoulder. The sweat exploded on his forehead. He remained still. It seemed like minutes though it was only a few seconds. Light flashed again.<br />Grassy movement sounds recurred, heart now racing. Third flash. A burst of movement from the rear left at around eight O clock. Albin turned his head and pressed his right cheek against the cooking rock. A tanned eight year old youth raced past below him at unbelievable speed. Scruff cloth pants with no shirt and a trailing headband. Albin pushed himself up to his hands and knees. “If there is fifty meters distance between us I could risk running for the manor.” The shrubs on the other side of the valley started to rock violently and birthed a boy in a buttoned up shirt with leather shoes and woven short breeches all tailor made. The boy ran with all his might towards the Domitian manor. “This is my chance.” Albin scrambled off the rock and sprinted towards the manor jumping and dodging the hindering bushes and stones. The other party moving parallel to him across the valley. Seth caught sight of Albin but did not change target and kept course. He held a small blunt wooden object and proceeded to stab his victim in the back with it. “Ha, you're dead!” Seth exclaimed while immediately changing trajectory to intersect his secondary target before he gets inside the safe zone. “Not fair. He cheated!” Exclaimed the sore loser. Seth did not care about the butt-hurt. He was going to get two kills and feel awesome anyway. Albin felt less secure in his current situation and started to doubt his previous assessment of fifty and thought that twenty five meters might have been a more favourable calculation. “Don't panic Albin, focus.” He thought to himself. He recalculated his speed in comparison to the speed of his hunter and estimated the future point of contact. Veering to the right he sagaciously aimed for the far corner of the estate gardens, increasing the distance of his run to the demarcated safe zone considerably more for his rival than to himself. The race became more intense... “I live!” Was the triumphant exclamation as the knife swiped past the back of his neck mere centimetres. Albin fell on the grass panting. He saw Seth in a similar condition of respiratory failure. The loser was still far away grumbling and kicking at the weeds. Seth grinned. “I almost had you.” Albin just nodded in compliance. “I'm thirsty... water, milk or wattle gum juice.” “Wattle gum juice!”<br /><br />Albin knew that the slave would never say no to the delicacies of the common people but gave him the options anyway. He brushed off his clothes and entered the back door of the manor. In the kitchen he poured juice into three clay cups whilst eavesdropping on a heated conversation emanating from the foyer. His curiosity bested him and he entered the room. “The people are ready to accrue for themselves better prospects in the colony!” The tradesman appealed with fervour. Albin sat himself down on the staircase and gulped at his beverage. “Your proposals would be sensible under normal circumstances but colonial expansion is best suited for peacetime.” Domitius riposted. “This war has been going for nine YC, are the people supposed to stall their dreams and ambitions for some vaguely defined purposes. Please consider that an expansion program would be beneficial to the war effort eventually.” Domitius knew that he was being evasive. He was finding it harder to guide the colony according to his vision, their growing despondency was worsened by his deflecting their requests with indirect excuses. Domitius did not want to rule with force, his exerting authoritarian command would only foster resentment towards him among the Khanid landowners. “We do not have a militia. How would we keep an influx of slaves servile if the war seems to turn against the Empire?” Domitius replied with rhetoric. “It is a valid concern. We should convene a council to address these issues and come to consensus.” The trader was adamant and Domitius felt irritated. “This will not turn into a democracy! Tell me what you require and I will consider it, if I do not agree with you I will annul it and appoint an inquisitor to judge and punish all who dissent!” The tradesman lost his composure and shrunk back. “My lord, I am wary to say... there are no requests.” “No requests?” “Yes my lord.” Domitius was puzzled. The traders son came into the room with his cup of wattle juice and sat down next to Albin. “Father Ecknard informed me of the news... I applied for a licence two YC previously.” Domitius felt uneasy. “What news?” “...A licence has been issued from Khanid Prime... they are sending extractors to Moro III.” Domitius went pale. Thousands of implications flooded his mind. Economic problems, ecological issues and a very much more complex political situation. He remained unresponsive for a moment. “I understand. Isidore, you may go.” The tradesman bowed lower than was required of him then reached towards his son. “I apologise for my insolence.” Domitius ignored the man who quickly left the premises. Domitius looked at his son. “Never become too familiar with your subjects Albin... Dammit, he has created more problems for the colony than he could realise.” “Yes pappa. Pappa? Are we going to see real space ships!”<br /><br />“We are...” Domitius admired his son's innocence. “big ones.” He smiled.<br /><br /><a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=fiction\" title=\"#fiction\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#fiction</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=scifi\" title=\"#scifi\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#scifi</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=eveonline\" title=\"#eveonline\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#eveonline</a><br />",
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"published": "2020-05-12T19:50:25+00:00",
"source": {
"content": "Seven YC later.\n\nAlbin was lying on a two meter high rock formation. It was warm from the sun but he dared not move. His adrenaline was pumping but he would scarcely take a breath for fear of being heard. His thumping heart was so loud it made him paranoid. He crawled forward and peeked over the edge of the low precipice. A dangerous and savage escaped slave was on his trail, ready to scalp and gut him. If only he could get to his safe spot. He heard a long low whistle from across the valley. A light flashed from amongst some dense shrubbery at an estimated two hundred metres away. He pulled a mirror from his own pocket ready to return the signal. “This increases my chances.” He whispered to himself. He knew that their enemy was behind him and could not possibly see the reflection of Moro light if he directed said light perpendicularly away from the hunter. He flashed with his mirror five times towards his ally, two second counts between each flash. No immediate response... he waited. Light flashed from the shrubbery and immediately he became aware of movement in the grass behind him. He resisted the urge to look back over his shoulder. The sweat exploded on his forehead. He remained still. It seemed like minutes though it was only a few seconds. Light flashed again.\nGrassy movement sounds recurred, heart now racing. Third flash. A burst of movement from the rear left at around eight O clock. Albin turned his head and pressed his right cheek against the cooking rock. A tanned eight year old youth raced past below him at unbelievable speed. Scruff cloth pants with no shirt and a trailing headband. Albin pushed himself up to his hands and knees. “If there is fifty meters distance between us I could risk running for the manor.” The shrubs on the other side of the valley started to rock violently and birthed a boy in a buttoned up shirt with leather shoes and woven short breeches all tailor made. The boy ran with all his might towards the Domitian manor. “This is my chance.” Albin scrambled off the rock and sprinted towards the manor jumping and dodging the hindering bushes and stones. The other party moving parallel to him across the valley. Seth caught sight of Albin but did not change target and kept course. He held a small blunt wooden object and proceeded to stab his victim in the back with it. “Ha, you're dead!” Seth exclaimed while immediately changing trajectory to intersect his secondary target before he gets inside the safe zone. “Not fair. He cheated!” Exclaimed the sore loser. Seth did not care about the butt-hurt. He was going to get two kills and feel awesome anyway. Albin felt less secure in his current situation and started to doubt his previous assessment of fifty and thought that twenty five meters might have been a more favourable calculation. “Don't panic Albin, focus.” He thought to himself. He recalculated his speed in comparison to the speed of his hunter and estimated the future point of contact. Veering to the right he sagaciously aimed for the far corner of the estate gardens, increasing the distance of his run to the demarcated safe zone considerably more for his rival than to himself. The race became more intense... “I live!” Was the triumphant exclamation as the knife swiped past the back of his neck mere centimetres. Albin fell on the grass panting. He saw Seth in a similar condition of respiratory failure. The loser was still far away grumbling and kicking at the weeds. Seth grinned. “I almost had you.” Albin just nodded in compliance. “I'm thirsty... water, milk or wattle gum juice.” “Wattle gum juice!”\n\nAlbin knew that the slave would never say no to the delicacies of the common people but gave him the options anyway. He brushed off his clothes and entered the back door of the manor. In the kitchen he poured juice into three clay cups whilst eavesdropping on a heated conversation emanating from the foyer. His curiosity bested him and he entered the room. “The people are ready to accrue for themselves better prospects in the colony!” The tradesman appealed with fervour. Albin sat himself down on the staircase and gulped at his beverage. “Your proposals would be sensible under normal circumstances but colonial expansion is best suited for peacetime.” Domitius riposted. “This war has been going for nine YC, are the people supposed to stall their dreams and ambitions for some vaguely defined purposes. Please consider that an expansion program would be beneficial to the war effort eventually.” Domitius knew that he was being evasive. He was finding it harder to guide the colony according to his vision, their growing despondency was worsened by his deflecting their requests with indirect excuses. Domitius did not want to rule with force, his exerting authoritarian command would only foster resentment towards him among the Khanid landowners. “We do not have a militia. How would we keep an influx of slaves servile if the war seems to turn against the Empire?” Domitius replied with rhetoric. “It is a valid concern. We should convene a council to address these issues and come to consensus.” The trader was adamant and Domitius felt irritated. “This will not turn into a democracy! Tell me what you require and I will consider it, if I do not agree with you I will annul it and appoint an inquisitor to judge and punish all who dissent!” The tradesman lost his composure and shrunk back. “My lord, I am wary to say... there are no requests.” “No requests?” “Yes my lord.” Domitius was puzzled. The traders son came into the room with his cup of wattle juice and sat down next to Albin. “Father Ecknard informed me of the news... I applied for a licence two YC previously.” Domitius felt uneasy. “What news?” “...A licence has been issued from Khanid Prime... they are sending extractors to Moro III.” Domitius went pale. Thousands of implications flooded his mind. Economic problems, ecological issues and a very much more complex political situation. He remained unresponsive for a moment. “I understand. Isidore, you may go.” The tradesman bowed lower than was required of him then reached towards his son. “I apologise for my insolence.” Domitius ignored the man who quickly left the premises. Domitius looked at his son. “Never become too familiar with your subjects Albin... Dammit, he has created more problems for the colony than he could realise.” “Yes pappa. Pappa? Are we going to see real space ships!”\n\n“We are...” Domitius admired his son's innocence. “big ones.” He smiled.\n\n#fiction #scifi #eveonline\n",
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"content": "May we never forget what it is all about.<br /><br /><a href=\"https://cryptopotato.com/bitcoin-halving-block-reveals-secret-message-concerning-the-2020-financial-crisis/\" target=\"_blank\">https://cryptopotato.com/bitcoin-halving-block-reveals-secret-message-concerning-the-2020-financial-crisis/</a><br /><br /><a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=crypto\" title=\"#crypto\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#crypto</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=news\" title=\"#news\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#news</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=bitcoin\" title=\"#bitcoin\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#bitcoin</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=technology\" title=\"#technology\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#technology</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=scifi\" title=\"#scifi\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#scifi</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=cryptocurrency\" title=\"#cryptocurrency\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#cryptocurrency</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=economy\" title=\"#economy\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#economy</a>",
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"content": "May we never forget what it is all about.\n\nhttps://cryptopotato.com/bitcoin-halving-block-reveals-secret-message-concerning-the-2020-financial-crisis/\n\n#crypto #news #bitcoin #technology #scifi #cryptocurrency #economy",
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"content": "<br />\"I have sold everything. <br /><br />My inheritance has been liquidated for Isk. So, what is the price for a fresh clone?\"<br /><br /> ~Albin Domitius Chevalier<br /><br /><br /><br />Chapter One<br /><br /><br />Khanid Empire - Seb System - Planet Moro III<br /><br />“He looks so much like you Domitius.” Cleolia remarked while stroking the newborn's tiny arms. “He has good blood.” Domitius responded smiling fondly. “I am so glad to have born you an heir my love.” Domitius stared at his newborn, neglecting his duties momentarily to celebrate with his wife. “I will send for the priest, to register the boy as an Imperial citizen and to have him scribed into our family archives, but in the meantime, you must recover. Let the slave girl take our son, and you rest.” “How can I let him go when I only just met him? Who are you little man?” She smiled faintly and passed the boy over to the maiden. “Domitius, where are you going?” “To the fields, the slaves are behind schedule, our harvest is big and taxes are high. This war is taking it's toll and we must excel if we are to adequately serve the Empire. If only the beasts would comprehend what is at stake.” Domitius agonised. Cleolia peered cautiously at the wooden door knowing that Sethari was standing just beyond it. “Don't worry my love, at least he tries to understand the urgency of our affairs.” He stood up and prepared to leave the room. “Domitius, wait...” He stopped at the door. “What will you tell the priest?” Domitius paused. “I will tell him Albin... Albin Domitius Chevalier.”<br />He left the room and it was quiet, the slave nurse rocking the supine baby while Cleolia drifted between sleep and conciousness. “Albin.” She repeated to herself as deep sleep enveloped her.<br /><br />Domitius and his head slave walked briskly out of the manor squinting as blue Moro light reflected off the grain fields.<br />“I congratulate you on the birth of your son my lord, I am sure you will be as proud a father as I am of Seth.” “Thank you Sethari, is your son walking yet?” Domitius queried. “No my lord, still crawling on the floor like a beast.” “I am in no mood to jest Sethari.” Domitius clenched his fists. “Get those slaves into formation, I cannot have them idling when they should be harvesting crops! Move!” Sethari made a small bow to his master and started yelling at his Minmatar kinsmen, threatening them with a rolled up whip he procured from somewhere inside his tunic, waving it about and cracking it in the air every so often. Domitius picked up a scythe and proceeded to cleave down large swathes of grain.<br />This had the a stronger effect of mobilising the straggling slaves to action than did the whip. They all toiled together in the pale light of Moro. Domitius was sweating, sweating and praying for an Imperial victory over the Gallente Federation. Fighting his small part in a increasingly complicated war, loyal to his people even though the fight was far from home. Praying with a loyalty that cannot be bought.<br /><br />Khanid Empire - Seb System – Planet Moro III<br /><br />The priest was in a more jovial mood than usual. This break of routine was a welcome one. A birth in the family Chevalier was indeed a momentous occasion. He did not even seem to mind carrying the heavy keg full of mead over the rolling hills of the plantation colony. “Domitius comes to services far to infrequently,” The portly man mumbled to himself while wiping the accumulated sweat from his brow. “and I eat too well among all these farmers.” The habit of speaking to himself was normal for this man of the cloth who always felt socially disconnected from his flock, caring for their souls and general well being like a responsible but distant father. “I feed their spirits, they feed my body, Hahaha. Tonight I will share my good spirits! Hahahaha!” Impressed by his own sense of humour he turned to witness the majestic blue star set over the dark sapphire skyline. Everything turned a silver grey hue, and then the stars broke through the atmosphere lighting his way. “Clear skies, the blessed stars guide me.” He continued on the path approaching the Domitian manor. Circling the gardens finding the stone steps leading down the exterior of the foundation he rapped a quick knock on the side cellar doors. It creaked open and a tall muscular Minmatar took his package and let him in. “Thank you Setharis, my arms are weary, ready to fall off, Empire bless you.” Domitius glimpsed up from his seat below a lantern. “Good to see you Father Ecknard.” The priest nodded but his eyes followed the barrel. “Dispense with the formalities and bring the dispenser.” He motioned to Setharis who placed the heavy keg on a table next to an assortment of documents, quill and inkpot. “You pour Setharis and I will write. Name?” “Albin Domitius Chevalier.” The priest focused, started with his calligraphic art and fashioned the name and YC beautifully onto the family records all the while biting his tongue. “He will inherit the colonial estates, all your assets in Khanid Prime and the offices at Amarr Prime. Correct?” “Yes.” Replied Domitius solemnly. “I will have to rewrite your will and testament. I will make a registry at the parish and send correspondence to Amarr Prime. There will be many from the royal courts who will send their best regards from afar when this news becomes public.” Domitius did not seem as enthusiastic as Ecknard would have liked. “What ails you Domitius?” The priest could not help but make the pun and laughed inside himself.<br />“I wonder if we should wait before registering him at the Empire.” The priest sat up straight his bouncing belly touching the table. “In heavens name why?” “I am concerned... about this war...” “It is on the other side of Amarr space!” The priest interjected in astonishment. “I know father, maybe I am just being overly cautious, but with the Amarr fleet occupied at the front I am worried about opportunistic corporations exploiting our vulnerable situation in the isolated regions.” “Surely Khanid prime fleets could make seven jumps to our defence in the improbable event of an invasion.” “Yes Ecknard, but the fleet is thinned because most of our ships are on the aforementioned front!” Domitius was serious and father Ecknard decided to not argue with the lord. “I will not register the boy in the Imperial records.” “Thank you father.” “What do you know that we fail to see Domitius.” “The value of Isk. It is not calculated well by the common people, no offence father.” “None taken.” “My son and our blood line is very important to me, if financial opportunists become aware of his existence we will have problems here on Moro III.” “The war does not seem to be ending any time soon, how long shall we stall his registration, and think of the rites he will not be allowed to partake in at the church. He will be like a Minmatar!” Ecknard gestured towards Sethari. “This is a big colony Ecknard. My son will be educated as a member of royalty, all on Moro III will acknowledge his social standing, I am only concerned that the secret be kept from the outside worlds. He will NEVER be considered a Minmatar, he will know who he is and what his position is in New Eden. When the war is over we will properly introduce him to the families, they are too occupied with the war as it is, and might not offer him due ceremony as they would under more peaceable circumstances.” The priest capitulated and grabbed a mug. “Your secret is safe with me Domitius, the lack of technology on this forsaken planet is good for your purposes, seeing as the only comms station in the colony is in the church tower. I swear silence my lord, though let me make a final proposal.” Domitius filled a cup of mead for Sethari and himself, becoming more relaxed and hospitable. “I am listening.” “Let us pretend for the childs sake that he is Khanid royalty only, and not True Amarr. We then continue his education to the full and not put him in a position where he could compromise himself should he be... heavens forbid, captured by some opportunIsktic capsuleer.” Domitius looked ponderously into his cup. “Ecknard, my son is but an infant... How long do you predict this war to continue?” Father Ecknard leaned forward with a glimmer in his eye...<br /><br />“I sit at the comms desk every night and listen to the chatter.<br />This war...is going to be a long one.”<br /><br /><a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=fiction\" title=\"#fiction\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#fiction</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=scifi\" title=\"#scifi\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#scifi</a> # eveonline<br /><br />",
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"content": "\n\"I have sold everything. \n\nMy inheritance has been liquidated for Isk. So, what is the price for a fresh clone?\"\n\n ~Albin Domitius Chevalier\n\n\n\nChapter One\n\n\nKhanid Empire - Seb System - Planet Moro III\n\n“He looks so much like you Domitius.” Cleolia remarked while stroking the newborn's tiny arms. “He has good blood.” Domitius responded smiling fondly. “I am so glad to have born you an heir my love.” Domitius stared at his newborn, neglecting his duties momentarily to celebrate with his wife. “I will send for the priest, to register the boy as an Imperial citizen and to have him scribed into our family archives, but in the meantime, you must recover. Let the slave girl take our son, and you rest.” “How can I let him go when I only just met him? Who are you little man?” She smiled faintly and passed the boy over to the maiden. “Domitius, where are you going?” “To the fields, the slaves are behind schedule, our harvest is big and taxes are high. This war is taking it's toll and we must excel if we are to adequately serve the Empire. If only the beasts would comprehend what is at stake.” Domitius agonised. Cleolia peered cautiously at the wooden door knowing that Sethari was standing just beyond it. “Don't worry my love, at least he tries to understand the urgency of our affairs.” He stood up and prepared to leave the room. “Domitius, wait...” He stopped at the door. “What will you tell the priest?” Domitius paused. “I will tell him Albin... Albin Domitius Chevalier.”\nHe left the room and it was quiet, the slave nurse rocking the supine baby while Cleolia drifted between sleep and conciousness. “Albin.” She repeated to herself as deep sleep enveloped her.\n\nDomitius and his head slave walked briskly out of the manor squinting as blue Moro light reflected off the grain fields.\n“I congratulate you on the birth of your son my lord, I am sure you will be as proud a father as I am of Seth.” “Thank you Sethari, is your son walking yet?” Domitius queried. “No my lord, still crawling on the floor like a beast.” “I am in no mood to jest Sethari.” Domitius clenched his fists. “Get those slaves into formation, I cannot have them idling when they should be harvesting crops! Move!” Sethari made a small bow to his master and started yelling at his Minmatar kinsmen, threatening them with a rolled up whip he procured from somewhere inside his tunic, waving it about and cracking it in the air every so often. Domitius picked up a scythe and proceeded to cleave down large swathes of grain.\nThis had the a stronger effect of mobilising the straggling slaves to action than did the whip. They all toiled together in the pale light of Moro. Domitius was sweating, sweating and praying for an Imperial victory over the Gallente Federation. Fighting his small part in a increasingly complicated war, loyal to his people even though the fight was far from home. Praying with a loyalty that cannot be bought.\n\nKhanid Empire - Seb System – Planet Moro III\n\nThe priest was in a more jovial mood than usual. This break of routine was a welcome one. A birth in the family Chevalier was indeed a momentous occasion. He did not even seem to mind carrying the heavy keg full of mead over the rolling hills of the plantation colony. “Domitius comes to services far to infrequently,” The portly man mumbled to himself while wiping the accumulated sweat from his brow. “and I eat too well among all these farmers.” The habit of speaking to himself was normal for this man of the cloth who always felt socially disconnected from his flock, caring for their souls and general well being like a responsible but distant father. “I feed their spirits, they feed my body, Hahaha. Tonight I will share my good spirits! Hahahaha!” Impressed by his own sense of humour he turned to witness the majestic blue star set over the dark sapphire skyline. Everything turned a silver grey hue, and then the stars broke through the atmosphere lighting his way. “Clear skies, the blessed stars guide me.” He continued on the path approaching the Domitian manor. Circling the gardens finding the stone steps leading down the exterior of the foundation he rapped a quick knock on the side cellar doors. It creaked open and a tall muscular Minmatar took his package and let him in. “Thank you Setharis, my arms are weary, ready to fall off, Empire bless you.” Domitius glimpsed up from his seat below a lantern. “Good to see you Father Ecknard.” The priest nodded but his eyes followed the barrel. “Dispense with the formalities and bring the dispenser.” He motioned to Setharis who placed the heavy keg on a table next to an assortment of documents, quill and inkpot. “You pour Setharis and I will write. Name?” “Albin Domitius Chevalier.” The priest focused, started with his calligraphic art and fashioned the name and YC beautifully onto the family records all the while biting his tongue. “He will inherit the colonial estates, all your assets in Khanid Prime and the offices at Amarr Prime. Correct?” “Yes.” Replied Domitius solemnly. “I will have to rewrite your will and testament. I will make a registry at the parish and send correspondence to Amarr Prime. There will be many from the royal courts who will send their best regards from afar when this news becomes public.” Domitius did not seem as enthusiastic as Ecknard would have liked. “What ails you Domitius?” The priest could not help but make the pun and laughed inside himself.\n“I wonder if we should wait before registering him at the Empire.” The priest sat up straight his bouncing belly touching the table. “In heavens name why?” “I am concerned... about this war...” “It is on the other side of Amarr space!” The priest interjected in astonishment. “I know father, maybe I am just being overly cautious, but with the Amarr fleet occupied at the front I am worried about opportunistic corporations exploiting our vulnerable situation in the isolated regions.” “Surely Khanid prime fleets could make seven jumps to our defence in the improbable event of an invasion.” “Yes Ecknard, but the fleet is thinned because most of our ships are on the aforementioned front!” Domitius was serious and father Ecknard decided to not argue with the lord. “I will not register the boy in the Imperial records.” “Thank you father.” “What do you know that we fail to see Domitius.” “The value of Isk. It is not calculated well by the common people, no offence father.” “None taken.” “My son and our blood line is very important to me, if financial opportunists become aware of his existence we will have problems here on Moro III.” “The war does not seem to be ending any time soon, how long shall we stall his registration, and think of the rites he will not be allowed to partake in at the church. He will be like a Minmatar!” Ecknard gestured towards Sethari. “This is a big colony Ecknard. My son will be educated as a member of royalty, all on Moro III will acknowledge his social standing, I am only concerned that the secret be kept from the outside worlds. He will NEVER be considered a Minmatar, he will know who he is and what his position is in New Eden. When the war is over we will properly introduce him to the families, they are too occupied with the war as it is, and might not offer him due ceremony as they would under more peaceable circumstances.” The priest capitulated and grabbed a mug. “Your secret is safe with me Domitius, the lack of technology on this forsaken planet is good for your purposes, seeing as the only comms station in the colony is in the church tower. I swear silence my lord, though let me make a final proposal.” Domitius filled a cup of mead for Sethari and himself, becoming more relaxed and hospitable. “I am listening.” “Let us pretend for the childs sake that he is Khanid royalty only, and not True Amarr. We then continue his education to the full and not put him in a position where he could compromise himself should he be... heavens forbid, captured by some opportunIsktic capsuleer.” Domitius looked ponderously into his cup. “Ecknard, my son is but an infant... How long do you predict this war to continue?” Father Ecknard leaned forward with a glimmer in his eye...\n\n“I sit at the comms desk every night and listen to the chatter.\nThis war...is going to be a long one.”\n\n#fiction #scifi # eveonline\n\n",
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"content": "Three articles. Different conclusions. One vision. Where do we go from here?<br /><br /><a href=\"https://medium.com/@100trillionUSD\" target=\"_blank\">https://medium.com/@100trillionUSD</a> <br /><br /><a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=crypto\" title=\"#crypto\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#crypto</a> <br /><a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=news\" title=\"#news\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#news</a> <br /><a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=technology\" title=\"#technology\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#technology</a>",
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"content": "Three articles. Different conclusions. One vision. Where do we go from here?\n\nhttps://medium.com/@100trillionUSD \n\n#crypto \n#news \n#technology",
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