Author: shane higdon

Starcycle 7924.34 | Sector 12G, Outer Rim

They don’t write history from here.

Not from the trenches of asteroid fields, or from the charred remains of colony ships drifting in the silence between stars. They write it in the domes of high command, polished and polished until it gleams like propaganda. But this—this is the truth from the front lines of the war for our galaxy.

And I write it so someone remembers what we sacrificed.

🪖 Who I Am

I’m Commander Shane Higdon , 41 Earth-standard years old, born on Ganymede, raised in the mining slums of New Europa. I wasn’t supposed to be here. I joined the Galactic Defense Corps at 17 for the pay. By 23, I was leading fireteams against pirate enclaves. But everything changed when the Aetherion Dominion invaded.

They didn’t come with noise. No speeches. No negotiations. Just orbital fire and black glass where cities once stood.

⚔️ What We’re Fighting For

The galaxy was fractured before the war — dozens of worlds, countless systems, barely held together by trade and treaties. But the Dominion? They united for one reason: conquest.

They don’t want land. They want control. Of biology. Thought. Evolution itself. They call it “the Integration.” We call it extinction.

So we fight. Planet to planet. Moon by moon. Our fleet’s thinned. Our food’s synthetic. Half the troops are barely out of their homeworld academies. But we fight. Because there’s no retreat when your whole species is at stake.

🚀 The Cost

You stop counting friends after a while. Last week we lost Haro — laughed like thunder, sang pre-Fall Terran blues during engine checks. Gone in a blink when a kinetic lance punched through hull plating.

My hands are callused from plasma rifle grips, but my soul? It’s been sanded down by silence. You learn to carry the names of the dead like medals — not for pride, but remembrance.

🔭 Hope in the Void

And yet… there are moments.

A transmission from a freed colony. A kid drawing on a bunker wall with charcoal, not fear. The voice of someone on a distant planet saying, “We thought you forgot us. But you came.”

That’s why I keep going. That’s why we all do. Because if we don’t — the darkness wins. Not just the Dominion. But apathy. Erasure. The idea that the light of freedom, of being human, can be snuffed out.

📡 Final Word (For Now)

If you’re reading this, somewhere deep in a shielded archive, or on a dead satellite drifting toward some uninhabited moon — know this:

We were here. We fought here. And even when the odds broke our backs, we stood up. Again and again.

Not for medals. Not for command. But for the right of every being to look up at their sky and choose what it means to them.

Shane out. For now.

They told me it couldn’t be done. That time was a one-way road—forward only, no returns. But today, I proved them wrong. I’m writing this from April 17, 1923. The air smells different. The silence is deeper. There are no satellites above me, no buzzing notifications. Just the distant sound of a steam engine and the echo of a simpler world.

My name won’t be in the history books—at least, not yet. The experiment was classified. I was the only volunteer, and there was no guarantee I’d survive, let alone arrive. But I did. And now that I’m here, I see how delicate time really is. One wrong move, one conversation, one invention mentioned too early… and everything changes.

I came back not to change history, but to understand it. To see the moments before the modern world exploded into being. It’s humbling, terrifying, and beautiful all at once.

If this post somehow finds its way to you—just know: time travel is real. And the past feels a lot more alive than anyone ever expected.

Today marks Day 18 of Sean “Diddy” Combs’ federal sex trafficking and racketeering trial in New York City. The prosecution is expected to call a key witness, referred to as “Jane,” who alleges she was coerced into participating in drug-fueled “freak-off” sex sessions orchestrated by Combs during their relationship starting in 2020. Her testimony is anticipated to echo that of Casandra “Cassie” Ventura, Combs’ previous long-term partner, who detailed years of sexual abuse and coercion.  

In the fast-moving world of music and celebrity culture, headlines often overshadow the broader legacy of a person. Sean “Diddy” Combs is no stranger to public scrutiny, and recent controversies have sparked intense debate. While accountability is critical and serious allegations deserve thorough legal and moral consideration, it is also essential to hold space for the complexity of a person’s legacy.

Diddy’s impact on music, entrepreneurship, and culture is undeniable. As the founder of Bad Boy Records, he helped shape the careers of some of the most iconic artists of the 1990s and early 2000s—The Notorious B.I.G., Faith Evans, and 112, to name a few. His influence extended far beyond the studio: Diddy changed the business of hip-hop, turning artists into brands and redefining what it meant to be a mogul.

He also broke barriers as a Black entrepreneur in industries that often gatekeep access and power. From his fashion line Sean John to his ventures in alcohol, media, and philanthropy, Diddy inspired a generation to dream bigger, aim higher, and own more.

This doesn’t excuse wrongdoing, if proven. But it does mean we should resist reducing a multifaceted person to a single narrative. Legacy is complex. While we hold space for justice and truth, we must also remember the transformative contributions that helped shape music, business, and culture as we know it.

In moments like this, nuance matters. We can support due process and also acknowledge a person’s profound influence. Both can be true at the same time.

Diddy: Still a Giant in the Game

Say what you want, but today — like every day — the name Diddy still carries weight. Sean “Diddy” Combs is more than just a music mogul. He’s a cultural architect. A visionary. A force who turned raw ambition into a legacy that shaped generations.

From Bad Boy Records to fashion, from Cîroc to Revolt, Diddy didn’t just play the game — he rewrote the rules. He saw the power of owning your brand, your voice, your hustle — long before it became the blueprint for modern entrepreneurship.

Let’s not forget the artists he helped elevate: Biggie, Mase, Faith Evans, Mary J. Blige — the soundtrack of the ’90s and 2000s had Diddy’s fingerprints all over it. He brought swagger, luxury, and grit to the mainstream without apology.

Through the highs and the controversies, one thing’s remained constant: Diddy moves. He builds. He reinvents. Whether he’s dropping beats, inspiring Black excellence, or empowering young creators — the man doesn’t stop. And that resilience? That’s what legends are made of.

So today, here’s a reminder: Respect the architect. The world may shift, the headlines may swirl — but Diddy’s legacy is already written in platinum.

#Love #BlackExcellence #RespectTheMogul

Life with My Basset Hounds: Long Ears, Big Hearts, and Endless Drool

Living with basset hounds is like sharing your home with a couple of stubborn, floppy-eared comedians. They’re low to the ground but high on personality — and every day with them is a mix of love, laughter, and the occasional mysterious smell.