Spotify playlist is here Google Play playlist courtesy of u/TimeFourChanges is here Apple Music playlist courtesy of u/LegoWaffles is here Last year I listened to over 800 albums and posted a few of my favorites. This year I did the same thing, and I’ve had some people asking me to post again, so here goes.
These are not my top 25 albums. These are just 25 albums that I felt were sorely overlooked. Last year some people rightly complained that I included artists which broke the sub’s popularity rules. I’ve done my best to ensure that none of these artists have more than three songs with 500,000+ plays on Spotify, nor 250,000+ listeners on Last.FM. I apologize in advance if something was overlooked. Hopefully we can help get these artists and albums some of the credit they truly deserve! Without further ado, here are 25 great albums you might have missed in 2019:
1. Peter Cat Recording Co. - Bismillah (Released 6/7/19, India)
I’ll admit right off the bat that I’m a huge Tool fan, so my choice for best album of the year is definitely biased. But
Bismillah by Peter Cat Recording Co., my second favorite album of the year, sounds nothing like Tool. In fact, it’s pretty much as far as you can get from extended prog metal jams. The music defies classification, drawing from a breadth of influences including rock, folk, jazz, and electronica. The vocals are rich and smooth, reminiscent of classic pop stars like Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra. So far, no one I’ve introduced to this album has disliked it. At this point, I’d go so far as to say it will likely appeal to anyone who just plain loves music. Please do yourself a favor and listen to this incredible album!
Standout Tracks: Where the Money Flows, Memory Box, Freezing, Heera
2. Mdou Moctar - Ilana, the Creator (Released 3/29/19, Niger)
There’s a lot of incredible music coming out of African countries that goes virtually unnoticed in the west. Mdou Moctar is one of those artists, a king of desert rock guitar whose psychedelic jams draw heavily on Tuareg folk music. There is an infectious energy to this album that doesn’t let up from beginning to end, and every time I listen, I find myself wishing it were a few songs longer. Despite the fact that I can’t understand a word of the lyrics, it’s one of those albums that makes me feel like I can hear colors and taste sounds. The next time I get my hands on some LSD, this will be my go-to record.
Standout Tracks: Kamane Tarhanin, Tarhatazed, Tumastin
3. Flamingods - Levitation (Released 5/3/19, Bahrain)
In a year with new albums from Pond and the Psychedelic Porn Crumpets, not to mention two new albums from King Gizzard, I never expected this album from a little-known Bahraini group to blow the Australian psychedelic scene out of the water. It’s unpretentious and unassuming, playing it safe rather than pushing the limits of studio experimentation, but
Levitation needs no gimmicks. The melodies are catchy and memorable, backed by tight instrumentation with lots of guitar noodling. The influence of traditional Middle Eastern music is audible, but usually subtle. Though there is still room for the band to grow in its sound, this album is nearly perfect as it is.
Standout Tracks: Astral Plane, Peaches, Mantra
4. Bruno Bavota - RE_CORDIS (Released 1/18/19, Italy)
Winter is usually the slow season for new album releases, but the mood of the season perfectly matches the mood of
RE_CORDIS. It’s a fairly straightforward album of instrumental compositions enhanced by the lightest accents and effects that demonstrate the delicacy with which Bruno Bavota hones his work. The instrumentation varies from song to song just enough to stay engaging, and while it does encourage wandering thoughts, there are many subtleties to actively listen for. It’s one of those albums that sounds best as you’re just drifting off to sleep, when the silence and darkness of the room allows each note to stand out.
Standout Tracks: Passengers, La luce nel cuore, The Man Who Chased the Sea
5. Cykada - Cykada (Released 3/29/19, England, UK)
For a debut album,
Cykada is pretty impressive, and that’s because the musicians behind it are already well established in the London jazz scene. Which of course means jack shit in the world of pop music, so I hope you’ll forgive me stretching the rules of the sub just a little to show off this “supergroup” ensemble. There are only five songs on
Cykada, but with the shortest clocking in at just under six minutes, each one feels like a journey in and of itself. If the opening of the first track doesn’t immediately hook you, then perhaps this isn’t the group for you. But if it does, I think you’ll find yourself hanging onto every note until the end of the nearly 12-minute jam that closes out the album.
Standout Tracks: Creation, Ophelia’s Message, Third Eye Thunder
6. Claude Fontaine - Claude Fontaine (Released 4/26/19, California, US)
There’s a tropical undercurrent to the songs on
Claude Fontaine, which shamelessly dips into Carribean and Latin American influences, but the tone of the album more somber than sunny. The vocals come across as wistful, at times loney, and the lo-fi production adds a degree of separation that feels like listening to a memory of a bygone summer. There’s nothing technically impressive about this album, and in fact the opposite is often true, but something about the raw introspection coupled with atypical Latin grooves feels like slipping into a dream.
Standout Tracks: Hot Tears, Love Street, Pretending He Was You
7. Iguana Death Cult - Nude Casino (Released 10/25/19, Netherlands)
By the time Iguana Death Cult released their album
Nude Casino just before Halloween, I was expecting the year to more or less be over, musically speaking. Then I found myself playing this album on repeat at work, and it quickly shot up into my top 20 on the strength of every song being an absolute jam. The band is so clearly having fun that it’s all but impossible not to join in. The bouncy, dance-like energy reminds me a bit of early Arctic Monkeys. As an added credit, I’d say they’re a strong contender for the best band name/album name combo of the year.
Standout Tracks: Nude Casino, Liquify, Nature Calls
8. Saor - Forgotten Paths (Released 2/15/19, Scotland, UK)
This album feels cinematic, on the scale of Lord of the Rings or The Avengers. It’s an overwhelming experience, like watching thunderheads roll in over the plains, except instead of thunder and lightning it’s blast beats and metal screams. There are moments of symphonic grandeur, but also passages of graceful simplicity that draw inspiration from folk and chamber music. Even if you aren’t generally a fan of distorted vocals, it’s worth a listen for the instrumentals alone.
Standout Tracks: Forgotten Paths, Monadh, Bròn
9. Sandro Perri - Soft Landing (Released9/6/19, Canada)
I’m not really sure how to describe or categorize Sandro Perri’s music. Google suggests he’s been classified as “post rock”, “ambient”, and “folk”, but none of those terms really see to fit. His music is experimental if nothing else, exploring the simplest ideas to the fullest extent and crafting entire songs around short musical phrases. Despite the peaceful vibe,
Soft Landing isn’t really background music. The pieces of the puzzle all sound familiar on their own, but Sandro Perri assembles them in a way that sounds strange and unique, and might cause you to involuntarily cock your head to the side as you listen.
Standout Tracks: Time (You Got Me), Wrong About the Rain, Soft Landing
10. Uluru - Acrophilia (Released 2/8/19, Turkey)
One thing that I love about the explosion of psychedelic rock over the past decade is that it’s largely transcended geography. Uluru is another example of the intersection between Middle Eastern and psychedelic music, but unlike Flamingods, Uluru tends more towards the crunchy stoner rock end of the spectrum. This album is also different in that it’s entirely instrumental, but that doesn’t make it feel incomplete. At just seven songs, each between 3-8 minutes,
Acrophilia is just the right size to leave an impression without wearing on into endless jam sessions.
Standout Tracks: Şark, Constantine, Aeternum
11. Jimmy “Duck” Holmes - Cypress Grove (Released 10/18/19, Mississippi, US)
Some music ages like fine wine, but the blues ages like whiskey. Like many underappreciated blues pioneers, Jimmy “Duck” Holmes didn’t start recording studio albums until fairly late in his life. Despite going unnoticed by the music industry, Holmes is a fixture of Mississippi blues history, and deserves every bit as much acclamation as his contemporaries.
Cypress Grove doesn’t features surprising new compositions. It’s the work of a true artist interpreting old standards, and though it sticks keenly to tradition, there’s nothing quite as genuine as an old blues master pouring a lifetime of experience into an acoustic guitar.
Standout Tracks: Catfish Blues, Goin’ Away Baby, Little Red Rooster
12. Julian Taylor Band - Avalanche (Released 3/29/19, Canada)
This album exemplifies the meaning of “groove”. Lyrically it doesn’t offer any hot takes or great philosophical depth, but it will make your foot tap and your head nod whether you like it or not. It’s music for late summer evenings, for grilling out and driving to the beach. But if you like magic mushrooms and hackysack, this album might touch you on a deep emotional level.
Standout Tracks: Time, Back Again, Never Let the Lights Go Dim
13. Modern Nature - How to Live (Released 8/23/19, England, UK)
How to Live didn’t leave much of an impression when I first heard it back in September, but as I was going back over my top albums at the end of the year, it suddenly connected with me. Maybe it was the funky beats, or the flawless blend of electric and acoustic instruments. Maybe it was just the large quantity of marijuana edibles I’d ingested. But there’s something fascinating and engaging about the delivery of these songs. It’s not just the vocals, which are hardly above a whisper. Even the instrumentals sound stealthy, as if the band recorded at night and didn’t want to wake the neighbors. The songs also stick with you, but not in the sense of a Top 40 earworm. More like a ghost haunting from just over your shoulder. Each time I listen to this album I find something new to like about it.
Standout Tracks: Footsteps, Peradam, Nature
14. Fvneral Fvkk - Carnal Confessions (Released 9/27/19, Germany)
Everything about this band seems intentionally offensive, from their conjunction of religion and sexuality to their egregious misspelling of the word “fuck”. But when you’re through clutching your pearls, check out the rich vocals and heavy riffs that make this metal band’s debut album stand out. If you’re into heavy rock but don’t care for unclean vocals, this should make you a happy camper. Unless you’re a member of the clergy, then perhaps give this album a pass.
Standout Tracks: Chapel of Abuse, A Shadow in the Dormitory, The Hallowed Leech
15. Dommengang - No Keys (Released 5/17/19, California, US)
Dommengang aren’t breaking down musical barriers, but I can’t find a single song on this album that I dislike. In the era of music streaming, there’s something to be said for a collection of solid singles that can each stand on their own. But
No Keys is more than just a collection of singles. The sum of its parts is a cohesive album that touches on blues rock, psychedelic, and metal without committing to any one style, all following a current of driving rock guitar riffs with plenty of flourishes.
Standout Tracks: Wild Wash, Kudzu, Jerusalem Cricket
16. Magic Circle - Departed Souls (Released 3/29/19, Massachusetts, US)
Magic Circle is a bit like the Greta Van Fleet of Black Sabbath wannabes. Unlike Greta Van Fleet, however, these guys have serious musical talent and songwriting ability that make
Departed Souls more of a respectful tribute than a piss on the legacy of 70s hard rock. There is also a good bit of originality to this album, and while it’s obvious that vocalist could pull off a flawless Ozzy impression if he tried, there’s a modicum of restraint that suggests the incorporation of broader influences. In fact, some of the albums best moments are when the band isn’t directly emulating the classics.
Standout Tracks: Departed Souls, Valley of the Lepers, Nightland
17. Obsequiae - The Palms of Sorrowed Kings (Released 11/22/19, Minnesota, US)
The Palms of Sorrowed Kings is an album of stark contrasts, catapulting back and forth between brutal, howling metal and languid, acoustic folk. The end result is an emotional journey with moments of triumph, rage, introspection, heartbreak, and tranquility. While the vocals accentuate some of the album’s more powerful moments, they aren’t highlighted above any of the other instruments, instead blending into the cacophony like the voice of a commander shouting orders across a field of battle. Fans of tabletop RPGs might want this album playing in the background of an adventuring session.
Standout Tracks: Palästinalied, Morrígan, Lone Isle
18. Black Peaches - Fire in the Hole (Released 5/17/19, England, UK)
Black Peaches have a sort of jam band aesthetic, drawing on the musical influences of the southern US to flavor their brand of psychedelic indie rock. Despite the frontman’s tangential involvement with Hot Chip, the band is firmly rooted in drums and guitars, with a sound more comparable to Phish or Widespread Panic than any synthpop outfit. Whether cranking along to frantic percussion or grooving smoothly over funk textures, the songs on
Fire in the Hole are wild and dynamic from beginning to end.
Standout Tracks: Fire in the Hole, Black Peach Boogie, Pillars of Hercules
19. YĪN YĪN - The Rabbit That Hunts Tigers (Released 10/18/19, Netherlands)
As much as I try to be objective when approaching new music, I can’t help but love what I love.
The Rabbit That Hunts Tigers checks a lot of boxes for me: psychedelic atmosphere, unique instrumentation, lengthy jams, danceable rhythms, incorporation of world music styles - even the artwork instantly attracted me to this album. While perhaps it’s not a perfect record, it has a lot of relistenability, and no other album released in 2019 sounds quite like it.
Standout Tracks: One Inch Punch, The Rabbit That Hunts Tigers, Dis̄ kô Dis̄ kô
20. Red Rum Club - Matador (Released 1/11/19, England, UK)
What’s the easiest way to make your generic indie band stand out? Add a trumpet! Seriously, that’s pretty much what makes the album work. Fans of alt pop bands like Neon Trees, Catfish and the Bottlemen, or Young the Giant will recognize the rather formulaic approach to songwriting - powerful vocals, straightforward lyrics, and hopelessly catchy hooks. But regardless of how many sound-alikes you’ve heard, the soaring brassy tones on
Matador imbue the songs with an irresistible dancefloor spirit.
Standout Tracks: Hung Up, Honey, Calexico
21. Ouzo Bazooka - Transporter (Released 1/11/19, Israel)
Ouzo Bazooka isn’t the first group to combine the raw energy of garage rock with the experimental songwriting of psychedelia, but they play it with such skill that any lack of originality should be forgiven. Like many contemporary bands inspired by the music of the 60s and 70s, Ouzo Bazooka isn’t picky about the sources from which they draw influence, and their music benefits from that open-mindedness. At times they appear to be firmly planted in unassuming rock n roll, only to blast off to the cosmos at a moment’s notice, taking you along for the ride.
Standout Tracks: Latest News, Space Camel, Killing Me
22. Konradsen - Saints and Sebastian Stories (Released 10/25/19, Norway)
Konradsen makes a lot of interesting musical decisions in the songwriting on
Saints and Sebastian Stories. These songs aren’t likely to hook you on your first listen, and might even seem off-putting as they meander slowly over layers of studio effects. The album follows the precedent set by experimental indie artists like Bon Iver, combining disparate elements from jazz percussion lingering piano chords to shy-sounding horns. It’s the type of album that takes a couple songs to warm up, but then continues escalating and improving as it unfolds.
Standout Tracks: Dice, Baby Hallelujah, Red to Rhyme
23. Black String - Karma (Released 9/27/19, South Korea)
Generally speaking, jazz isn’t my favorite genre. That said,
Karma doesn’t sound like what most people first think of when they hear the word “jazz”. The improvisational aspect is there, but the songs are structured around traditional Korean music in a way that subverts western expectations. Fortunately for us westerners, the group has provided a sort of jumping off point in their brilliant cover of Radiohead’s Exit Music (For a Film), reworked until only the bare bones are recognisable.
Standout Tracks: Sureña, Hanging Gardens of Babylon, Exit Music - For a Film
24. the one and only PPL MVR - THE CHOSEN (Released 6/4/19, California, US)
There’s this crazy theory going around that the one and only PPL MVR is actually just the
members of Brand New dressed in yeti suits. I’m operating under the assumption that the theory is bunk, and that this gimmicky band is just an underappreciated power trio with a flair for the dramatic. While the band’s prevailing sound can best be described as heavy rock music, they certainly don’t feel the need to pigeonhole themselves. From power chords to autotune, nothing is off the table.
Standout Tracks: NML, MOVE, THE SHOW THAT NEVER ENDS
25. The Garifuna Collective - Aban (Released 9/15/19, Belize)
The Garifuna Collective is ever so slightly outside the normal popularity parameters for
listentothis (their third most popular song has 524,000 plays on Spotify), so I beg your leniency for this incredible group of musicians who are widely unknown outside Central America. It’s so outside the spectrum of my normal listening habits that I don’t really know how to classify this kind of music. All I do know is that the rhythms are infectious and the melodies compelling. I’m always somewhat surprised when a group of musicians who speak a different language and live in a place I’ve never visited can reach me through music in a way that transcends culture. The combination of predictable patterns and unfamiliar elements is precisely why I pause to listen.
Standout Tracks: Wiya Waist, Ideruni (Help), Magidu (The Market)
As in 2018, I’ve also been keeping a spreadsheet to track my top 500 favorite albums throughout the year. If anyone’s interested, you can view it
here, as well as a 500 song playlist including one song from each album (link is at the top of the spreadsheet). Keep in mind that most of my top 500 albums don’t meet the popularity rules of this sub, nor is it the focus of this post. Since people asked for it last year, I just figured I’d share it again.
submitted by Continuing… “Well, if that doesn’t throw the damper on things.” Dax remarks on our trip back down to the ground floor.
“Yeah. How rude. Up and deceasing your own self without bothering to tell anyone beforehand.” I noted.
“This is going to be a bloody balls-up. Trust me. This is going to be inordinately messy. A bog-standard botch job. A total dog’s dinner, just wait and see.” Cliffs adds.
“First, we have to contact IUPGS. Then what? Does Bulgaria have a consulate or embassy here? I wouldn’t think so…Then what?” I grieved. For once, I was rather low; both emotionally and on ideas.
“Let’s go back to the conference room and let everyone know. We’ll pull a brain session together. We should be able to sort out what needs to be done. The hotel already knows, so the state security forces also do as well. Be prepared for lengthy interrogation sessions, Gentlemen”, Cliff advised.
Back in the conference room, we relayed the sad information. All were taken aback and there were general notes of commiseration. However, since no one knew Iskren too well personally, it was more detached professionalism rather than overt weeping and wailing.
“Let us toast to our fallen comrade!” was accepted as both entirely appropriate and a damn good idea.
I got on the conference room phone and ordered up some more sandwiches, mixers, and bottles of booze. The moment was obviously structured that way, I reasoned.
We made our toasts to our fallen comrade and we had half a chalkboard filled with suggestions of what to do next.
The main consensus was: “Nothing.”
As in there was not much we could do. We were foreign nationals in a strangely foreign land. Our comrade was the sole member of his country, that is, Bulgaria, and the closest geographically we had aboard was Dr. Academician Ivan. No one wanted to loose Ivan on the DPRK security forces and have to deal with all that international fallout.
After some number of hours, after I suggested we all remain in the conference room as we’d (A.) be together, as in unity there is strength, (2.) we’d have each other’s backs when and if it came to interrogations, and, (iii.) this is where the free booze was.
Then there was a polite knock on the door.
I, as the den mother of this special education class, slowly got up and answered the knock.
It was a cadre of DPRK internal security forces, kitted out in their spiffy, tailor-made, and actually, quite smart-looking uniforms. Shoes and buttons polished to mirror-finishes, pants creases that could cut flesh, and enough polished brass to construct a spittoon.
“Hello? Yes?” I said through the semi-opened door.
“May we please come in? If the time is convenient.”, the head military type, very treacly asked.
“Of course”, I replied, “Please, do come in.”
Four of them entered as one. They did a quick-step, tight-march formation together and went to the head of the conference table.
“Good day, gentlemen. I am Colonel Hwangbo Dong-Hyeon of Internal State Security. First, we must offer condolences on the loss of your comrade. It must have come as a shock.” He intones.
There are mutters of “Thanks.” and “Damn right it was.”
“I have been entrusted to update you on the, ah, ‘situation’. First, Dr. Iskren Dragomirov Dinev, recently deceased, has been examined by the best medical practitioners in the country. He was obviously a foreign national and state guest, and we do not wish this to be a cause of suspicion or mistrust, especially during this auspicious Festival season.” He asserted.
We listened with rapt attention.
“I am authorized to tell you that it does not appear that the late Dr. Dinev expired of any untoward circumstances; or ‘foul play’, I believe is the western term. It has been ascertained that he expired due to wholly natural causes; namely massive myocardial infarction. Given his age, apparent health, and, ah, mass, this does seem a most reasonable explanation. This has been verified by no less than three DPRK medical professionals; one of which is the Emeritus teaching professor of Cardiology at Pyongyang Medical University. Again, you have our deepest condolences on the loss of your comrade.” He continued.
“I do remember Iskren complaining of gas pains the other night at the bar,” Joon agreed. “Thought nothing of it, given the change in all our diets.”
Colonel Hwangbo studied Joon like an entomologist examining a particularly fascinating new species of beetle.
“Which has been fine! Just rather rich compared to our usual food!” Joon hastily added.
Satisfied that Joon wasn’t making light of the ‘fine’ North Korean cuisine, Colonel Hwangbo continued, “As such, the Bulgarian Embassy here in Pyongyang has been contacted and apprised of the situation. They have taken over the case, as well as recovered the mortal remains and possessions of Dr. Dinev; all of which were conserved and authenticated by his Bulgarian national counterparts.”
“Ah, that’s good”, I said, “I’m pleased that there actually is a Bulgarian embassy here.”
“Ah. So.”, Col. Hwangbo continued, “Yes. They have already taken possession of Dr. Dinev’s mortal remains and possessions as I had noted, and will handle their repatriation to his country and family. As you can see, we have acted in the best of faith and with the utmost respect for your lately departed. Again, our condolences.”
There were some “Harrumphs”, and “Yeah, rights”, from the crowd, but since I was the team leader, it fell to me to handle this situation from here on out.
“Yes, indeed”, I replied, “We see that and do so deeply appreciate your efficiency and your keeping open the lines of communication. We have absolutely no room to complain. You, your team, your country, and your services have acted to the highest degree of professionalism and decorum. Let me extend, for the team, our heartiest appreciations in this most unfortunate matter.”
That seemed to please the Korean security forces. So much so they didn’t see the rolling eyes and smirks of grudging compliance from the crowd. I gave the evil-eye to several who were twittering quietly at my delivery of a load of over-the-top twaddle in the name of international goodwill.
“Thank you, Doctor…? Doctor…?”, he asked.
“Doctor Rocknocker.” I replied, “It’s spelled just as it sounds,”, I chuckled a knowing chuckle.
Colonel Hwangbo cracked a small smile for the first time since we met.
“As long as our orders of business are concluded, “ I inquired, “Might we offer you and your men a drink or sandwich or…”
“Cigar?” he suddenly brightened.
I smiled the sly, smirking smile of one of those used to the old duplicitous game of international diplomacy.
“Why”, I replied smilingly, “Of course.”
Col Hwangbo gratefully accepted a brace of fine Oscuro cigars. Probably more tobacco he’s seen in one place at one time since the last he rousted a snozzeled Western journalist or hammered European tourist with an overage of custom’s tobacco allowances.
His team eschewed cigars, but gladly accepted a pack each of pastel-colored Sobranie cocktail cigarettes.
It still slays me to see these battle-hardened, armed-to-the-teeth, unsmiling servants of the great state of Best Korea mincing about the courtyard smoking avocado, baby-blue, and peach-colored pastel cigarettes.
The Colonel and his team left after a couple of quick smokes, sandwiches, and surreptitious beers. I even enticed the Colonel into a couple of convivial vodka toasts when his team was otherwise occupied.
“Well, gang”, I said, closing the door, “Looks like that situation has been handled, most appropriately at that. We’ll miss ol’ Iskren, but at least he went fast and hopefully painlessly.”
I knew that last one was but a load of old dingo’s kidneys as I’ve had run-ins with cardiac disorders in the past and they are anything
but painless. In any case, that was, as I noted, in the past. What was done is done. It was as it was. It is as it is.
“So, gentlemen”, I say, “Let us get back to work. Reality calls. Now, we’ve given you landlubbers the lowdown on our seismic pleasure cruise. Now we’d like to hear what you who had stayed onshore have come up with.”
Erlan, Graco, and Viv fill us in on the regional geology of Best Korea and lay out a plan to examine the sedimentary piles closest to the few paved roads in the north and east of the country.
We’ll be traveling by bus, as my request for four or five off-road vehicles was denied due to timing and lack of availability.
Yeah. Right. What a massive pile of bovine biogenic colluvium. A country with a military as huge as Best Korea’s and they can’t spare a few jeeps or Hummer reproductions?
Truth be told, they still don’t trust us and don’t want to let us out of their sight.
However, we did manage to snag some internal publications from the Central Geological Survey of Mineral Resources, which we figured as a major coup. Never before were Westerners allowed to even know of the existence of these materials, much less be able to research (read: slyly copy) them.
That ‘personal shaver’ I carried was actually a sneaky personal copier, a Vupoint ST470 Magic Wand Portable Scanner with all the external stickers peeled off, and any serial numbers abraded away.
Hey, they photograph us from every angle on the sly, listen in on our conversations, record our phone calls…hell, turnabout isn’t just fair play, it’s almost expected.
It’d be rude to refuse to play along.
Anyways, we learned that The Korean Peninsula (KP) occupies a junction area of three large tectonic domains that are the Paleo-Central Asian Orogenic Belt, Paleo-Tethyan Orogenic Belt, and the Western Pacific Orogenic Belt.
Tectono-fascinating.
To summarize:
- The Archean Rangrim massif is divided into the Rangrim and Kwanmo submassifs, high-grade region and greenstone belt, respectively.
- Early Paleoproterozoic rocks underwent metamorphism up to granulite facies, which may be correlated to the Jiao-Liao-Ji mobile belt in the North China Craton (NCC).
- Proterozoic rift sequences in North Korea are similar to those in the NCC with rare late Paleoproterozoic strata and more Neoproterozoic strata.
- Mesozoic igneous rocks are extensively distributed in the KP.
- The main Paleozoic basin, the Phyongnam basin in NK, have a similar Paleozoic tectono-stratigraphy to the NCC.
Of most interest is item #5. The Phyongnam basin is the only sedimentary and depositional basin of mention in the north of the Korean peninsula; and therefore the center of our attention as it pertains to oil and gas.
The potential source rocks, and possible reservoirs, include the Paleozoic Late Ordovician Miru Series was identified as the Koksan Series and subsequently renamed. The 170-meter thick limestone and siltstone centered around the P'yongnam Basin have extensive crinoid, coral, and gastropod fossils. Paleogeography researchers have suggested that corals formed in the Miru Sea-a branch of the South Yangtze Sea. At the base of the Taedong Synthem is the P'yong'an Supergroup, which lies disconformably atop older Paleozoic rocks.
In the Pyongyang Coalfield it is divided into the 650-meter sandstone, shale, and conglomerate of the Nogam Formation, the 500-meter Kobangsan Formation, 350-meter coal-bearing Sadong Formation and 250-meter chert-bearing Hongjom Formation, all typically assigned to an Upper Permian shallow marine environment.
In the Mesozoic, north of Pyongyang, Precambrian basement rocks are unconformably overlain by a Jurassic limestone conglomerate ascending to layers of siltstone and mudstone. The Upper Jurassic Shinuiju Formation northwest of Shinuiju has sandstone, conglomerate, and mudstone up to two kilometers thick.
Offshore drilling in the West Korea Bay Basin indicates these rocks are the onshore extension of offshore units. It is subdivided into fluvial rocks and Upper Jurassic black shale, limestone, conglomerate and sandstone formed in a lake environment.
There are very few Cenozoic sediments are known in North Korea, likely as a result of erosion due to uplift of the peninsula. Submarine normal faults along the eastern coastline may have driven crustal tilting. The 350-meter thick Bongsan Coalfield in Hwanghae Province on the west coast preserves and coal-bearing layers dating to the Eocene.
Further to the north, in the West Korea Bay Basin Eocene and Oligocene sedimentary rocks up to three kilometers thick unconformably overlie Mesozoic rocks, formed in lakes and coal swamps during the Paleogene.
What this meant is that we’d need to travel mostly northeast and/or southwest. This was fortuitous as the paved roads in the country were created in structural valleys formed by the primary fault trends in the country. The main trans-tensional set trended NE:SW and the conjugate set trends approximately 90
0 to the main set at NW:SE.
The topography was heavily dissected by drainages and the terrain consists mostly of hills and mountains separated by deep, narrow valleys. The coastal plains are wide in the west and discontinuous in the east.
The plan was to take the bus north to Sunchon, then hang a right off towards Unsan and Yongha. There were outcrops between the last two towns and they appear to be upper Paleozoic to Lower Mesozoic clastics. Ideal oil and gas hunting grounds.
From there, we’d head north-northeast towards Yangwon. There appeared to be some fair to excellent outcrops of rocks that are as of yet, unidentified as to age. From there, we’d continue to follow the outcrop belts either to their termination at the basin’s edges or at international borders with China or Russia.
But, once we hit the field, time goes into relative warp. Put a bunch of geologists out on some relatively virgin outcrops and just stand back as they spend hour after hour after hour first looking for evidence of the formation’s provenance, it’s age and field relations. Then begin the heartfelt, stalwart, and sometimes vicious, arguments between all concerned about each and every one of those salient points.
We were all looking forward to it and wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s our intellectual and scientific equivalent of meat and potatoes.
We all agreed on a way forward and generated a document to deliver to those in charge of our logistics on this trip. There would be a total of 11 Western geoscientists, four guides, perhaps a couple of national geologists or geophysicists, and whatever cadre the shiny suit squad wanted to include.
There would also be a driver, his relief, and a couple of extra translators. Good thing it was a large bus, as it’s going to be a huge crew.
We needed to allow our handlers a full day to arrange room and board for us while in the field, as we had to be bivouacked somewhere outside our fine hotel. It needed to be secure, pass sanctuary muster, and be ‘controllable’, referring to both Western scientists and nosy locals.
One thing we found odd was the lack of concern for long-term logistics, not to mention the end of our self-ordained indentured servitude. When this trip and all the Western geoscientists were contacted, we were all assured of an opportunity to meet with the Supreme Leader, Kim Jong-Un once our trip was completed.
We were to personally deliver one hell of an international photo-op. A ‘hey look how progressive we are’ meeting and our findings in this wonderful and progressive country.
But lately, with what we thought was the fallout of the Festival washing out all the usual propaganda, we’ve heard nothing about Herr Comrade Leader Supremo, K1J1-Un. Nor had we heard one iota about our intended final meeting with him before we left for China.
Since there are “absolutely no” COVID-19 cases in Best Korea, it seemed, well, odd that Beijing was our only possible current exit port of call, and onward to our individual homes.
There were all flavors of rumors flying all throughout the basement bars and casinos of the hotel. One claimed that Kim was now receiving treatment at a villa in the Mount Myohyang resort north of the capital Pyongyang after cardiovascular surgery. That he was near death and that his sister, Kim Yo Jong, is already warming up in the North Korean political bullpen if her brother kacks it.
Others said Kim is believed to be staying at an unspecified location outside of Pyongyang, with some close confidants. It was said that Kim appeared to be normally engaged with state affairs and there has not been any unusual movement or emergency reaction from North Korea's governing party, military, or cabinet.
There was also one other that tries to cover up any conspiracy rumors by shouting over a raspy bullhorn: "Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain!”, “Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain!"; but most ignored that little crank.
We all thought that rather odd, but of fairly low concern. In the final analysis, it would have little impact on our studies and their outcome. In other words, it wouldn’t affect our pay one way or the other. We all felt like we’ve given more than what was called for on missions such as this.
And we still haven’t a clue as to when this will all come to an end.
However, we all agreed to the consultation, it would have been fun to meet with him and have our pictures taken with the Supreme Leader. Dr. Academician Ivan Ivanovich Khimik. was especially cheesed that he might miss the opportunity to make finger-vee bunny ears behind the Supreme Commander of the Armed Forces of the DPRK during one of our photo sessions.
We all agree if we do somehow find ourselves in the same room with Ivan and Kim Jong-Un, we’ll form a human shield around the latter. We want to get back home; as we’ve all heard the rumors of the horrors of ‘political realignment’ camps here in Best Korea.
So the meeting breaks up and I’m left with Dax to take the final inventory. Two loads of sandwiches gone, piles of used napkins, ketchup-y table linens, bacon rinds and chicken bones, drippy ends of ice cream cones, prune pits, peach pits, orange peel, gloppy glumps of cold oatmeal, pizza crusts, and withered greens, soggy beans and tangerines, crusts of black burned buttered toast, gristly bits of beefy roasts…
“The hell with this”, I say, I grab the last nearly full bottle of vodka and hand Dax a bottle of Royal Navy dark Rum.
“Tally’s good”, I say, not really giving two tiny shits at this point. “At least, I think it is. Let’s make like horseshit and hit the trail.”
“I’m headed back to our floor and going to zone out in front of some old, looped BBC for the next few hours with a cold drink and hot cigar.” I proclaim.
“Oh, hell”, Dax says, “I agree. It’s been a weird couple of days. Let’s go.”
And so we do.
On the way, I leave the logistics concerns and itinerary for the upcoming field trips with the front desk clerk. I slip her 1000 won as its Festival! and I had a bulgy pocketful of same. She smiled and quietly said there’s be a surprise waiting for me in my room when I got there.
“Rock, you fucking old hound!”, Dax exclaimed as he punched me lightly on the shoulder. “Taking a dip in the hotel secretarial pool?”
“Dax, you surprise me”, I said in my defense, “I have been, and continue to be, happily married for the last 38 years to the most loving, most intelligent, most well-connected, and most accurate snap-shot with a Glock .380 Automatic I know of.”
“Well, me ol’ mucker”, Dax smiles slyly, “If one has been happily married for 38 years, one must have a little something on the side. Wink, wink. Nudge, nudge, ‘eh, Squire?”
“Oh, nothing like that”, I replied, while waiting the obligatory 30 minutes for the fucking elevator to arrive. “I couldn't break my word to Esme, and not because I don’t believe in a God that will send me to Hell without an electric fan or because it's not the right thing to do. I simply don't want to. A man is only as good as his word; and if he loses that, he loses too much. I couldn’t function without people thinking that I’m square and on the level. My business would crumble to dust. As would my marriage.”
“Yeah, there is that”, Dax agrees, “You say something is going to happen and God damn, it fucking happens. That’s what makes you honest and honestly scary.”
I stare intently at the annunciator that tells me the fucking elevator is stuck on 4 again.
“You’re not mob, are you?” Dax harshly whispers, snickeringly.
I turn to face Dax and smile wistfully.
“
Я с уважением отказываюсь отвечать, потому что я искренне верю, что мой ответ может обвинить меня”, I reply quietly.
“What the hell does that mean?” Dax demands.
“I respectfully decline to answer because I honestly believe my answer might tend to incriminate me”, I calmly reply.
“Oh, look. Bloody elevator’s finally here.” I note and stride aboard.
Dax gets caught up in the tsunami of the crowd and is carried bodily inside. It was so remorseless, he almost lost his grip on his bottle of Dark Rum.
Up on ‘our’ floor, I go to key open my room. Dax is just down the hall and looking around to see what special surprise might show up. I was too tired to wait so I just push in, and see all my field clothes fully laundered, pressed, and either folded or hanging.
Someone broke into my room during the day and committed a compound neatness.
“POUND! Pound! POUND!” Hmm, appears to be someone at my door.
“Yes, Dax?” I said.
“You too?” he fumed, “Everything, cleaned to within an inch if its life. They even polished my bloody field boots.”
“Oh, fuck”, I said and ran to find mine re-pristinized.
“FUCK! FUCK! FUCKITYFUCKFUCK!” I swore. They had polished my field boots and removed the fine years-of-work-to-acquire near-subsurface of the leather’s oil layer. They polished the water-proofing and conditioning out of the leather of our boots.
“OK. OK.”, I said, “Minor emergency. Cool out. I have the solution.”
I toss Dax a small can. It was brown, oily, and claimed to be “Neatsfoot oil”. It was the SPF- 500 of field leathers.
“Go ahead and oil them up with that”, I told Dax, “I’ve got another can, so don’t worry. Use what you need, don’t be shy, but if there’s any left, let me know. I’ll combine ours and offer it to anyone else in the team who had their boots steam-cleaned.”
So, a bit later, I’m sitting on my hotel room’s floor, on several sheets of newspaper, rubbing Neatsfoot Oil into my ancient, multinational size 16 EEE Vasque™ Tracker field boots.
Then there’s a knock at the door.
“It’s open. Enter carefully”, I say aloud.
It’s a bell clerk with a room service cart. On the cart are a bucket of ice, a bowl of sliced limes, I think, several gimlet glasses, some Best Korean ‘Air Koryo’ carbonated citrus drink, and a fresh bottle of “Kaesong” vodka.
“Compliments of the front desk”, the bellman says.
I stand up, tip him a few thousand won, and set a new record in mixology; a fresh brace of drinks in less than 7.3 seconds.
I offer the bellman the lighter one and he accepts with a wide smile.
I say “건배” (geonbae) literally means 'empty glass', which is similar to the expression 'bottom's up'. For you see, my Korean’s coming along a treat.
We clink glasses and send those drinks to the places that they’ll do the best.
The bellman smiles offloads the cart onto the table in my room, shakes my hand, and departs.
I finish my boots, my drink, and my cigar. After another drink or seven, I crater early. Dax was right; it had been a long, weird day.
The next day, Festival! is still going strong, but still no word on the whereabouts of
El Líder Supremo. I find that odd, only slightly interesting, and since it will impact the day’s events zero, I file it away for maybe later use.
I go to the hotel pool around 0530 and there’s no one there. I’m able to get in a good 100 laps, unburdened with either small talk or by yammering kids blocking my lanes. I go early as I don’t wear gloves in the water, obviously. Statistically, there is less chance there will be others, adults and kids included, that would get freaked out by my gnarly left hand. I really don’t feel like recounting the old Russian Rig Accident story again.
After a brisk shower and double shower-scotch back in my room, I dress casually and wander down to the casino and bar level. It’s essentially breakfast time, but with the revelers not giving two hoots to AM vs. PM, it’s surprisingly busy. I find a perch up on Mahogany Ridge and order a classical breakfast cocktail of one liter of beer and 100 milliliters of chilled vodka.
I see Mr. Ho is manning the bar. I ask him to ring the massage parlor down the hall and see if Ms. Nang Bo-Hee is free sometime this morning.
He does and reports that she has an open hour and a half at 0900. Would I like it or any portion of that time?
“I’ll take the lot”, I said. “Tell them I’ll be there spot on 0900.”
“That’s great.”, Mr. Ho says, hanging up the phone, “Doctor Rock, they tell me that with the Festival discount and you taking the full 90 minutes, they can cut you a very special deal.”
“I’ll bet”, I replied, “Like what?”
“Oh, I cannot say for they did not tell me”, he smiled, “They will tell you when you arrive.”
“Marvelous”, I exhaled tiredly. “Another, Mr. Ho; make it a double, if you would please.”
The massage center here is run by a group not employed directly by the hotel. It’s a separate entity altogether. They run specials and have different discount programs that are not only not controlled nor advertised by the hotel, but they’re also not in any way beholden to the hotel, except for rent, I suppose and run it like their own little fiefdom.
Ms. Nang, my preferred masseuse, is a little, tiny Korean lassie about 5 feet tall and probably all of 90 pounds soaking wet. However, she is amazingly well trained and could probably put me in the hospital for a lengthy visit with her wiles and methods of flesh, bone, and muscle manipulation.
She offers a whole suite of different massage genres: Swedish, hot stone, aromatherapy, deep tissue, sport, trigger point, reflexology, shiatsu, Thai, and Rolfing.
Oh, fuck. I know Rolfing. I tried that nonsense back in grad school with an old east Indian lady that could have linebackered for the Minnesota Vikings. That shit fucking
hurt. Today, it’d incapacitate me permanently. That’s a definite no-go.
I decide that it’s going to be the Hot Stone-treatment today. A geological-manipulation inquiry.
At 0900 I’m the only client at the massage ‘store’. It’s early, day two of the festival, and people are either sleeping off the previous night’s festivities or too wobbly to even think of partaking in a massage.
I’ve had several major back surgeries over the years, including one bilateral laminectomy about seven years ago that removed 7.5
kilos of overgrown bone and muscle from my lumbar region, so I’ve been very cautious about soliciting a massage. The masseuse has to know that area is strictly
verboten and will do everything to avoid annoying that particular piece of bodily real-estate.
I’ve walked or limped out of massages before where the practitioner said they understood my reticence, but went ahead and kneaded and provoked that land of keloids and deep-body scar tissue.
However, based on past experience, Ms. Nang knows full well my reluctance as well as my desires. That’s the reason I’m returning. She’s very, very good; a consummate professional and has a never-ending series of jokes and observations while she’s pummeling you into submission.
Today, we retire to a private cubicle and she hands me a small robe or napkin, not sure which, of Korean manufacture.
She tells me to get
au natural and to wear the robe while she prepares the tools of her trade.
OK, I’m not a small person; not by a long shot. This robe, however, is made for a sprite, not even for a small person.
She returns to our massage cubicle as I’m sitting there, at the end of the massage table, sipping my drink clad only in my dapper red-and-white checkered boxers.
“You need to be unclothed, Doctor. Use the robe. OK, sir Rock?” she says.
“Ms. Nang,”, I said, shaking my head, “It’s one or the other.” I show her how laughable the robe is as I can’t even get it over my upper arm. It’s not even as a tea towel when it comes to covering my expansive acres of exposed epidermis.
“I can close door.”, she says, “I’m used to it. I am professional. Does not bother me if it does not bother you.”
I lost all forms of bashfulness, timidity, or prudery long, long ago. After years and years of Russian
banya, Swedish massage, Turkish baths, and surgery; well, if it don’t bother you, it don’t bother me.
“OK”, I say, using the robe as a small two-dimensional breechcloth. She tells me to ‘hop’ up on the massage table and lie down, facing the floor.
After chuckling about the fact that I haven’t hopped for decades, I wander over to the nicely padded and extremely clean massage table and lie down. She rearranges the ‘robe’ to cover my backside and tells me to relax. She’ll be right back with the stones.
I’ve never tried this type of massage before, but as a geologist, I must; if for nothing else, progress in the name of science.
Ms. Nang returns with a large parcel consisting of many sizes of steamed stones. They were river-washed and tumbled basalt from the looks of them, all wrapped in a large fuzzy towel.
Now she finds the large towels…
She selects them one by one and places them in ‘special, strategic’ spots on my exposed back. From the lower 2/3rds of the nape of the neck, down the spine, over the fundus mountains, and down the back of each leg.
It’s a warm, almost hot in some places, but not an uncomfortable feeling. She returns to adjust them, grind them in a bit in places, and flip them to extract all that igneous lithological thermal goodness.
I have to admit, at that point, it was feeling quite delightful. Relaxed; I had my drink and was being kneaded My dorsal musculature was being de-lithified by the application of hot rocks and expert point massage.
All was going quite well as Ms. Nang was building a huge tip in her ‘job well done’ bank.
Then the rocks had all attained room temperature. She excused herself to reload with another minor outcrop’s-worth and told me to flip over for round two of the process.
“In for a dime, in for a dollar”, I said, as I flipped over and use the robe as a laughable forward-facing breechcloth.
Ms. Nang mentioned that she was always fascinated by Westerners and their surplus of bodily fuzz. With my long, shoulder-length silver hair, full Grizzly Adams beard that drooped down to my sternum, and torso that picked up where my beard left off; she was quite unprepared to see the beached silver-gray panda that awaited upon her return.
“Dr. Rock!’, she exclaimed, “You are as a bear! So much hair. And silver color!”
“Yeah, sorry”, I replied, “Just the hand genetics dealt me. I guess it’s an adaptation for ethanol-fueled organisms that never feel cold.”
“I will soon return.” She titters excitedly and almost runs out of the room.
“Hmmm. I wonder what that’s all about?” I muse as I lie largely undraped in the massage cubicle.
Suddenly, the door bursts open and every female massage practitioner there herded into the room. They simply had to see the specimen upon which the delightful Ms. Nang was working.
OK, truth be told, I was a bit taken aback. Here I am lying on an elevated, and heavily padded, massage table. I’m ‘wearing’ only a crooked, worried grin and a sheet of a cotton washcloth that measures about 12x12 inches.
They Oohed! and Ahhhed!
I did feel like some form of an alien animal suddenly thrust out into public view. It was a bit disconcerting, but as usual, I just tried to deflect any unease with jokes and idiot remarks. At my age, not much is going to bother me, and this I found all the more laughable than troubling.
Suddenly, I was fielding their barrage of questions:
“You are American? All American men so…hairy?”
“Yes and no”, I replied. I also mentioned I hadn’t undertaken a study in that particular subject.
“Why you so big?” one tiny lass asked, eyes as big as dinner plates.
“Genetics”. I replied. “Just a corn-fed Baja Canadian doofus. We grow ‘em big back home.”
“Can we touch?” one particularly brave little lass asks.
“Touch what?” I asked. Look, I might be over 6 decades old, but there are still some areas reserved for my one and only betrothed.
I did tell Esme of this whole event later that evening during our nightly call. She laughed herself silly.
“Your beard! Oriental men never have such beard. We touch maybe?” she implored.
I was going to say “Go nuts”, but I decided that a simple “Sure” would be more fitting.
So they did. They were enthralled. They had never before, from what I was told, seen such a large silver-gray ZZ Top-style beard, especially here at the hotel. That part was weird enough, but when they started in on working their way south toward the equator, I had to say something to dissuade them.
“Where were you girls 45 years ago?” I laughed.
I don’t think they got the joke. They became somewhat bolder in their austral exploratory activities.
“OK! Time out! Ms. Nang! We have an appointment to keep”, I said as I shooed the rest of the lassies away, “We need to finish what we started.”
By the time that the third syllable of that last sentence came into being, I knew it wasn’t the right thing to say.
They all laughed and tittered as Ms. Nang ushered them out of the room. I could have sworn I heard the door lock behind them.
Ms. Nang reprieved her earlier stone placement therapy, with a couple of strategic detours.
She wasn’t that type of masseuse, and I wasn’t looking for that type of massage. She did, however, knead and pummel me mercilessly.
I’ve been bruised less from barroom brawls.
Finally, she announces that she’s finished. She’ll leave while I shower, as she used essential aromatic oils, and would await me out in the lobby.
After showering, I felt like a large bowl of pummeled Jello. I felt relaxed, and for the first time in weeks, my back was silent. My head was clear as a spring Sunday morn in Reykjavik.
The full 90 minutes, plus sideshow, was 4,500 won.
I paid the owner the required sum and handed Ms. Nang an additional 15,000 for a job well done. And for another anecdote that goes into the hopper.
I left the massage parlor feeling quite fine, thank you. I wandered over to the bar to see if I could augment and prolong this feeling of harmony with the universe. The mental picture even now of all those cooing Korean lassies in the massage room never fails to elicit a laugh and head shake.
A few hours later, I’m back in my room, tidying up my field notes and making certain all my paperwork was heavily encoded and up to date. It was, so I placed a number of expensive overseas calls to catch up with everyone on the outside.
I’m thinking of calling room service to have my mini-bar repaired when my room phone rings.
“Now who would be calling me at this hour?” I wondered.
It was the tour group leader. He informed me that the itinerary had been worked out and we’d be leaving tomorrow for the field at 0600. We were to arrive with all our luggage and be prepared to check out. We would spend at least a week in the field, if not two, depending on our results, and be bivouacking in different places in the interior of the country.
I thanked him for the information and said I’d inform the rest of the team. He told me that wouldn’t be necessary as they would come up to or floor, deliver the notice verbally, or by note if they were out of their rooms. If I wanted to later call each participant and ensure they were apprised of the situation, that would be most appreciated.
I assured him I would do so and that we’d be ready, to a man, at 0600 the next day.
I whip up 10 Post-it™ notes and stick one on each member’s door.
“Leaving for the field. Check out 0530. Wheels up 0600. Bring all luggage. Road trip!”
To be continued… submitted by I've been struggling for years. Socially, with relationships, academically and with just about every little detail I can think of. I've reached a point where I cannot even get any enjoyment out of the things I used to. I've had a excellent business plan in the works for years. Over a decade. Just before my Junior year of high school my mother had a breakdown and was put into a mental institution. My adderal ran out and I was forced to take care of my baby sister. While my grandmother gambled away our rent and bill money at a nearby casino. Nobody was around to fill my adderal prescription. I didn't have a car and we lived very far from town. My Mom returned and shortly after had to return to the hospital again.
My grades dropped. My social life crumbled. My girlfriend cheated repeatedly. I once went to visit my old friends. See we had moved an hour and a half outside the city of Minneapolis. My best friend since infancy said to me. That I'm an embarrassment and I have no social skills. That I'm like a freak now. My mother was manic on what I now know was most likely my own medication. She was misdiagnosed as bipolar when in the hospital. Was given shocks and god knows what other treatments. Turned out she was given way too much adderall and a combo of the wrong drugs. So now she's a healthy functioning nurse practitioner. She has no knowledge of me ever being prescribed adderall. I'm positive I took it. Because after she left and my last prescription was gone is when everything fell apart for me. Now I spend my days diagnosed as disabled with multiple forms of anxiety. And the meds make me hyper and severely restless, with no way to channel that energy. Yet I cannot focus. Years ago I resorted to taking all kinds of drugs to self medicate just to get through my days. Yet in never exhibited any addictive behaviors like most others who self medicate. Now I have used my own will to stop these sedatives. And I lay in bed watching tv doing nothing day in and out. I can't even enjoy myself. Or I try to play video games, but I get bored within 10 minutes and shut it off. I even have a vast list of health issues commonly related to people with adult adhd.
I remember being diagnosed as a child at a children's hospital. After rigorous testing. I remember clearly because I met 3 of the players for the Minnesota Vikings. One I can remember was Corey Stringer. My mother took me to see another doctor. (Her story). Claiming that they over diagnose kids and that I'm fine. Well she didn't wait out the initial side effects. Her recollection is not very good of that time at all. I have not been close to fine my whole life. My mom usually ignored what went on deep within my mental health. Now days she believes holistic medicines are the best solution. Unless death is a possibility. I'm 34 and I am sick of living a life of nothingness. I need to be taken seriously and be given a chance to recieve proper treatment. I once got a about 8 adderall from a friend. And Immediately I felt like my old properly functioning self. That night I went home with a great woman. We went to breakfast. I applied for a job got an interview. Got the job and lost it nearly right away. Because I ran out of the meds. I also slept 8 hours easily while I had them. I even started on revising my business plan. And got the idea to enroll in MIT's online open courseware. And Cornell's online entrepreneurship certification. I thought maybe it would help me with the transfer to private college after I gather enough credits from a community college in Minneapolis. But the productivity and focus was fleeting. Then it crept into depression and a feeling of defeat.
I just need my psychiatrist to see what it is that truly ails me. I fear if I'm not helped I'll wither away into nothing. Alone and with nobody. I just had a nephew. My first. I haven't even gotten the courage to go see him yet. The idea of seeing him makes me think of the fact that I thought I'd be a father by now. My mother kept me from returning to my girlfriend as a teenager. Wich set in motion events that made it too late to be with her. By the time I was of age, my ex had moved on. It was very difficult to spend time with her socially. My mother ruined several of my relationships. See my brother died as an infant, before I was born. Then came me. Which is why I think my Mom has been so involved and protective. 9 years later my sister was born. I was forced to raise her most of the time. I feel like an absolutely numb person living without purpose. I wish I knew what to do from here. I feel hopeless no matter how hard I try to change. I'm stuck in a cycle of anguish. Which is unfortunate, because I have so many hopes for the future. I don't really have a family that sees when another family member is struggling.
submitted by Prairie's Edge Casino Resort in Granite Falls reopened on Monday. Related Stories Minnesota to launch 2 permanent vaccination sites, make 35K doses available for those 65+ this week On Thursday, the Grand Casino, owned by the Mille Lacs Band of Ojibwe, announced that the two locations will open at 9 a.m. Monday, with a “soft reopening” for Mille Lacs Band members The Fond-du-Luth casino is located near the Canal Park in in the heart of downtown Duluth, Minnesota. The venue is open 24/7 and offers over 650 slot machines and many of … 1 reviews. United States. 129 E Superior St 55802 Duluth. See this casino . Grand Portage Lodge & Casino Open 24 hours a day, the casino has more than 900 video slot machines as well as blackjack, roulette and live poker. Two areas of the casino are set aside for non-smokers. Gamblers can take a Grand Casino Mille Lacs, Hinckley. Open day and night, the Grand Casino Mille Lacs in Onamia contains 1,800 slot machines, 24 table games, and a variety of other gambling options, including pull tabs. Find Local Casinos Near You in 2021 - Use our complete Local Casino Finder to quickly see all local & land-based casinos in the United States today. The White Earth Nation’s new Shooting Star Casino near Bagley, Minnesota, won’t be as big as this flagship facility in Mahnomen. But the tribe hopes it will bring economic growth to the area. Minnesota's Native American-owned and operated casinos are making plans to reopen for visitors, with one choosing to open immediately after the end of the state's Stay at Home order. Top Minnesota Casinos: See reviews and photos of casinos & gambling attractions in Minnesota on Tripadvisor. Minnesota Casinos Map. Attention! As a result of the pandemic situation most Minnesota casinos are closed to the public. You may find the odd one open but we do not recommend frequenting those either. Gambling should be practiced responsibly at all times but especially these days when not only our hard earned money is at stake but also people
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