Ian M Rountree

@ianmrountree.com

337 Followers 196 Following

Writer, spreadsheet enthusiast. Executive Director @ LITE Winnipeg www.ianmrountree.com

A nicely colour-coded Obsidian Graph view of ~100 or so notes, showing links between them. The colours are based on categorization, the grouping a mix of Zettelkasten and PARA note systems. It's very nerdy, unfortunately for me.
Just outside the cold midnight glow of amethyst street lamps, four toughs wrongly thought had a banker cornered in an alley.
A screenshot of an ad, served on a Google Pixel phone, promoting a bundle of YouTube Premium Lite with Google AI Pro.
Owens, the transit advocate, is hopeful. The new system makes adding routes and stops easier than before, and further expansion possible so long as the political will and willingness to increase the transit budget is there. “The basis of the transit master plan, to triple the number of Winnipeggers with access to frequent service, lay the foundation of a new structure for transit, for expansion in the future, has happened,” he said. “What happens next is really something that we have to decide together.”
Radstrom said the cuts in those neighbourhoods were designed to emulate the light-rail transit and subway systems that inspired Winnipeg’s new route layouts. Better spacing creates smoother, faster service, he explained.
A breakdown of which regions in Winnipeg lost the most stops per kilometer, showing a dee bias against downtown/North End communities by design. Left-hand explanation of the image: Before the overhaul, Winnipeg had about 11 bus stops per square kilometre. That’s dropped to about seven stops per square kilometre city-wide, according to the Free Press/Narwhal analysis. The city cut about 2.5 stops for every square kilometre, but those changes weren’t made evenly. Downtown and north end neighbourhoods — especially Point Douglas and Inkster — lost between two and three times as many stops as the city-wide average, while suburbs like Transcona and Fort Garry South, which have grown rapidly in recent years, saw the fewest stops removed.
From the above-linked Narwhal article, snippet reads: University of Manitoba Students’ Union president Prabhnoor Singh has three words to describe the transit transformation: “a complete disaster.” His own commute from his home in north Winnipeg to the university has jumped from one bus and 60 minutes to a nearly two-hour journey with three transfers. Now, he chooses instead to drive 40 minutes to get to campus. “It just shows you how much of a difference this has created, and overall, we haven’t heard much positive responses from our students,” he said.
From the above-linked Narwhal article, snippet reads: “There was definitely a decrease in the number of bus stops, but that doesn’t translate into worse service. The thing that makes a difference to people is, how frequently does the bus come and how reliable is it?”
A screenshot of text, reading as follows: To make things worse, Laiet immediately recognized the style of the man’s clothes - long, green coat hiding thin-fitted trousers and a fine yellow silk shirt - until he recalled it was a similar look to the ambassador from Blackmoar he had met in the capitol before coming here. Could he be Moarish? Holding such a high office here in the South? It wouldn’t be the first time an immigrant from the Northern Duchy made a name for himself, but given the current situation with Blackmoar itself, Laiet was surprised the man hadn’t been removed from his place of trust and authority if that was his birthplace. Unless he’s being used for intelligence. Yes, that would fit at least. Which meant only the sword was still out of place. Even for the man’s current station, it bordered on ostentatious. Gold crossguard, made for looks rather than function; fine red cord on the handle, wrapped with more golden wire. Gems set into both the crossguard and pommel. You could fund an army for a month on that sword alone.
Text from the fifth chapter of Empyrean Sword. It reads: “Time to split up!” Laiet pointed at the back of the bandit column. “Grin, Rook, hit the back. The rest of you, with me, we go for the flatbeds, get those mandalas disrupted!” Grin took his portion and split out, headed Northwest to bite at the bandits’ heels, preventing retreat. Laiet angled to meet the bandits right in the side of their group, readied his bow. Waited. He’d never had power worth training as a Talent himself, but Laiet could do one thing very well; see and measure the weaving work of those doing magic he understood, and find the point at which it would be broken easily. Two hundred yards from the bandit column, just as his group had been noticed and defenses were being prepared, he saw it; the flash, in the air just above one of the artillery mandalas, indicated his best target. Laiet drew his ironwood bow. Selected an arrow with a broad fluorite set in the leaf-shaped iron head. Counted, waited, took a breath, and let loose. The arrow, passing through the gap between the bandit artillerist and his mandala did its work instantly; the bandit had been just about to ready another shot, but the fluorite made his weave go wild and out of control. With a scream, the Talent caught fire, and the flatbed holding him exploded, knocking down both horses that drew the contraption as well as three fighters next to it. Laiet readied a second shot, took aim at another of the flatbeds, but the confusion had already set in. His arrow went wide, striking a horse on the other side of the contraption but didn’t take it down. The archer cursed under his breath. Antimagic arrows weren’t good for anything else. [...]
A CAPTCHA reading "inglip summoned"
A short poem, titled "We Had No Glory Days" It reads: Those of us who came first Conquered no old nations We had no bad habits Left by our forebears Instead we meandered From rich island to rich island Across an archipelago of opportunity Building no bridges We founded the lands you know By accident And forgot to teach you About the dark forest we left behind Now we are the shoulders you stand on But you'll never know it We bowed our heads to hide ourselves From your dancing feet
Screenshot of a passage from my work-in-progress novel. It reads: There was a glow at the mage’s wrists - bangles, two at each hand, bracelets carved from crystal. The green of emerald and soft yellow citrine at his right; amethyst purple and a deep blue Lacinus couldn’t place at his left. He couldn’t see the symbols carved across their surface from this distance, but on bangles so thin they wouldn’t be complex, so the man couldn’t be working artillery magic at any real strength. He must have simply prepared for this kind of street brawl. The banker had to act quickly. Antimagic needed time, and Lacinus had none. What I wouldn’t give for Grevault’s talents right now! His cousin had always been the better of them at creating barriers. For now, he’d have to guess at the mage’s method of attack. Lacinus dropped the knife, put both hands on his sword, twisting to drive the point between cobblestones. A large malachite sat on the sword’s pommel as a counterweight, its surface made smooth by a thin lacquer of lunar glass. He exhaled on it just as the mage’s focus completed; a spear of fire struck the air barely an arm’s length before Lacinus’ face, an expanding flash passing through his hastily erected barrier as the force of it dissipated. The alley itself rang like a giant bell. Where the barrier met brick walls to either side, flame licked the stone, scorching and melting it.
A passage from my in-progress draft. It reads: As he passed through a great square, something caught his eye. A figure, then two, standing to the side. Inky pillars, formless but for their pale hands, and taller than most men South of the great jungles. He stopped, intrigued, and one figure pointed toward him. Becoming dizzy, his awareness detached from his form. He was not dreaming of this city; this city was dreaming of him. It watched, passive, as the intruder struggled to conquer the puzzle of navigation it had been built to house. It walked after him, marveling as he screamed and bawled, and made all together too much noise - Silent, demanded the city, remain Silent, do not speak, you will draw Her attention! At the base of the mountain, before a great palace, Grevault slowed and came to himself at last. The yard’s silver grass blended with the stone streets, except it shivered and made waves under some unfelt wind. Waiting for him at the palace’s grand entrance was a tall figure, inhuman, its skin indigo and its eyes golden. The face, too beautiful for words, looked sad. This beast was not here to bar his path, it was here to record his arrival and shepherd him on.
From the Medium article linked in a post above, the image is text which reads: "Finance Management is a must. Circuit City had a poor financial management, and did not have enough cash flow or liquidity to survive the economic downturn. It also had a high debt load, and could not secure enough financing or credit to continue its operations. It also made some unwise decisions, such as spending too much on stock buybacks and dividends, and not enough on capital expenditures and inventory."
From the Medium article linked in a post above, the image is text which reads: "Quality over Quantity. Circuit City made a fatal mistake when it fired its most skilled and loyal employees in 2007, in an attempt to cut costs and boost profits. Doing so resulted in a loss of expertise, morale, and customer satisfaction. It also damaged its reputation and culture, and created a gap that its competitors exploited."
From the Medium article linked in a post above, the image is text which reads: "Don’t abandon your core customers and products. Circuit City’s exit from the appliance business was a costly mistake that eroded its customer base and brand identity. It should have leveraged its strengths and diversified its offerings, rather than narrowing its focus and leaving a gap in the market."