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mcmansionhell · 1 year

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this house may or may not be real

on grayness in real estate

Allegedly, somewhere in Wake Forest, North Carolina, a 4 bed, 5.5 bathroom house totaling more than 6,600 square feet is for sale at a price of 2.37 million dollars. The house, allegedly, was built in 2021. Allegedly, it looks like this:

A McMansion is, in effect, the same house over and over again - it's merely dressed up in different costumes. In the 90s, the costume was Colonial; in the 2000s, it was vague forms of European (Tuscan, Mediterranean), and in the 2010s it was Tudor, dovetailed by "the farmhouse" -- a kind of Yeti Cooler simulacra of rural America peddled to the populace by Toll Brothers and HGTV.

Now, we're fully in the era of whatever this is. Whitewashed, quasi-modern, vaguely farmhouse-esque, definitely McMansion. We have reached, in a way, peak color and formal neutrality to the point where even the concept of style has no teeth. At a certain moment in its life cycle, styles in vernacular architecture reach their apex, after which they seem excessively oversaturated and ubiquitous. Soon, it's time to move on. After all, no one builds houses that look like this anymore:

(This is almost a shame because at least this house is mildly interesting.)

If we return to the basic form of both houses, they are essentially the same: a central foyer, a disguised oversized garage, and an overly complex assemblage of masses, windows, and rooflines. No one can rightfully claim that we no longer live in the age of the McMansion. The McMansion has instead simply become more charmless and dull.

When HGTV and the Gaineses premiered Fixer Upper in 2013, it seemed almost harmless. Attractive couple flips houses. Classic show form. However, Fixer Upper has since (in)famously ballooned into its own media network, a product line I'm confronted with every time I go to Target, and a general 2010s cultural hallmark not unlike the 1976 American Bicentennial - both events after which every house and its furnishings were somehow created in its image. (The patriotism, aesthetic and cultural conservatism of both are not lost on me.)

But there's one catch: Fixer Upper is over, and after the Gaineses, HGTV hasn't quite figured out where to go stylistically. With all those advertisers, partners, and eyeballs, the pressure to keep one foot stuck in the rural tweeness that sold extremely well was great. At the same time, the network (and the rest of the vernacular design media) couldn't risk wearing out its welcome. The answer came in a mix of rehashed, overly neutral modernism -- with a few pops of color, yet this part often seems omitted from its imitators -- with the prevailing "farmhouse modern" of Magnolia™ stock. The unfortunate result: mega-ultra-greige.

Aside from war-mongering, rarely does the media manufacture consent like it does in terms of interior design. People often ask me: Why is everything so gray? How did we get here? The answer is because it is profitable. Why is it profitable? I'd like to hypothesize several reasons. The first is as I mentioned: today's total neutrality is an organic outgrowth of a previous but slightly different style, "farmhouse modern," that mixed the starkness of the vernacular farmhouse with the soft-pastel Pinterest-era rural signifiers that have for the last ten years become ubiquitous.

Second, neutrals have always been common and popular. It's the default choice if you don't have a vision for what you want to do in a space. In the 2000s, the neutrals du jour were "earth tones" - beige, sage green, brown. Before that, it was white walls with oak trim in the 80s and 90s. In the 70s, neutrals were textural: brick and wood paneling. We have remarkably short memories when it comes to stylistic evolution because in real time it feels incremental. Such is the case with neutrals.

Finally, the all-gray palette is the end logic of HGTV et al's gamified methodology of designing houses with commodification in mind: if you blow out this wall, use this color, this flooring, this cabinetry, the asking price of your house goes up. You never want to personalize too much because it's off-putting to potential buyers. After twenty years of such rhetoric, doesn't it make all the sense in the world that we've ended up with houses that are empty, soulless, and gray?

A common realtor adage is to stage the house so that potential buyers can picture their own lives in it. In other words, create a tabula rasa one can project a fantasy of consumption onto. Implied in that logic is that the buyer will then impose their will on the house. But when the staged-realtor-vision and general-mass-market aesthetic of the time merge into a single dull slurry, we get a form of ultra-neutral that seems unwelcoming if not inescapable.

To impose one's style on the perfect starkness is almost intimidating, as though one is fouling up something untouchable and superior. If neutrality makes a house sell, then personality - at all - can only be seen as a detriment. Where does such an anti-social practice lead us? Back to the house that may or may not exist.

In my travels as McMansion Hell, I've increasingly been confronted with houses full of furniture that isn't real. This is known as virtual staging and it is to house staging as ChatGPT is to press release writing or DALL-E is to illustration. As this technology improves, fake sofa tables are becoming more and more difficult to discern from the real thing. I'm still not entirely sure which of the things in these photos are genuine or rendered. To walk through this house is to question reality.

Staging ultimately pretends (sometimes successfully, sometimes not) that someone is living in this house, that you, too could live in it. Once discovered, virtual staging erases all pretensions: the house is inhabited by no one. It is generally acknowledged (though I'm not sure on the actual statistics) that a house with furniture - that is, with the pretense of living -- sells easier than a house with nothing in it, especially if that house (like this one) has almost no internal walls. Hence the goal is to make the virtual staging undiscoverable.

If you want to talk about the realtor's tabula rasa, this is its final form. Houses without people, without human involvement whatsoever.

But what makes this particular house so uncanny is that all of these things I've mentioned before: real estate listing photography, completely dull interiors and bland colors all make it easy for the virtual furniture to work so well. This is because the softness of overlit white and gray walls enables the fuzzy edges of the renderings to look natural when mixed with an overstylized reality. Even if you notice something's off in the reflections, that's enough to cause one to wonder if anything in the house is real: the floors, the fixtures, the moulding, the windows and doors.

This is where things are heading: artifice on top of artifice on top of artifice. It's cheap, it's easy. But something about it feels like a violation. When one endeavors to buy a house, one assumes what one is viewing is real. It's one thing if a realtor photoshops a goofy sunset, it's another to wonder if anything in a room can be touched with human hands. I won't know what, if any, part of this estate costing over 2 million dollars actually exists until I visit it myself. Perhaps that's the whole point - to entice potential buyers out to see for themselves. When they enter, they'll find the truth: a vast, empty space with nothing in it.

The better this rendering technology gets, the more it will rely on these totally neutral spaces because everything matches and nothing is difficult. You are picking from a catalog of greige furniture to decorate greige rooms. If you look at virtual staging in a non-neutral house it looks immediately plastic and out of place, which is why many realtors opt to either still stage using furniture or leave the place empty.

Due to the aforementioned photography reasons, I would even argue that the greigepocalypse or whatever you want to call it and virtual staging have evolved simultaneously and mutualistically. The more virtual staging becomes an industry standard, the more conditions for making it seamless and successful will become standardized as well.

After all, real staging is expensive and depends on paid labor - selecting furniture, getting workers to deliver and stage it, only to pack it back up again once the property is sold. This is a classic example of technology being used to erase entire industries. Is this a bad thing? For freelance and contract workers, yeah. For realtors? no. For real estate listings, it remains to be seen. For this blog? Absolutely. (Thankfully there is an endless supply of previously existing McMansions.)

The thing is, real estate listings no longer reflect reality. (Did they ever to begin with?) The reason we're all exasperated with greige is because none of us actually live that way and don't want to. I've never been to anyone's house that looks like the house that may or may not exist. Even my parents who have followed the trends after becoming empty nesters have plenty of color in their house. Humans like color. Most of us have lots of warmth and creativity in our houses. Compare media intended for renters and younger consumers such as Apartment Therapy with HGTV and you will find a stark difference in palate and tone.

But when it comes to actually existing houses - look at Zillow and it's greige greige greige. So who's doing this? The answer is real estate itself aided by their allies in mass media who in turn are aided by the home renovation industry. In other words, it's the people who sell home as a commodity. That desire to sell has for some time overpowered all other elements that make up a home or an apartment's interiority to the point where we've ended up in a colorless slurry of real and unreal.

Fortunately, after ten years or so, things begin to become dated. We're hitting the ten year mark of farmhouse modernism and its derivatives now. If you're getting sick of it, it's normal. The whole style is hopefully on its last leg. But unlike styles of the past, there's a real, trenchant material reason why this one is sticking around longer than usual.

Hence, maybe if we want the end of greige, we're going to have to take color back by force.

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#architecture #design #2010s #mcmansion #mcmansion hell #nc #2021 #essay

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evilminji · 2 months

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Broadway :3c

And I hear ya. (Insert spooky joke here) There is a sprawling WEB of central hubs, for The Arts. For trade. For getting drunk and having a good time. The Zone is large and it is endless. You'll NEVER reach the far end. It can never reach you.

All things, in gentle sweeping waves, across eternity.

So when folks want to have "a market" or "a movie theater" or "the waterpark"? You gotta PICK a point on the endless map. Figure if you are close or far enough away for others like it, to make it worth the effort to build.

You might even be the first to do it for GALAXIES in any direction! People might fly for WEEKS to come to your place! Move their Lairs to be closer too it. Like dust gathered by gravity, slowly creating planets and stars. A mega Lair. A CITY.

They rise, they fall, the Zone shifts all the while.

But!

Does the dead starlet stop singing? Does getting gunned down, stop the show?? I think NOT! Where is her STAGE? What musicals? What dramas? What operas and tragedies and forms unknown to human kind??! Ballet dancers who CAN defy gravity! Singers who have no NEED for air! The haunting blend of instruments, that could never in life have met! From empires long turned to ASH!

The greatest show in DEATH!

Ember was a world wide hit. Yes, her voice was hypnotic. But that could be FOUGHT. It was SKILL that carried the game. And she was hardly "I was Literally The Greatest My Planet Ever Produced" skilled. She was good, great even. Not "I was Born For Greatness" Excellence.

And like?

.....eventually? Danny's gonna ask after "cultural-y" Culture stuff. Clothes and food. Music and the arts. To help his parents get used to the whole "our son is half-dead" thing. To show he's not some mindless monster now.

And? Ghostwriter? Probably an absolute legend. Does he know where you can find some CULTURE? Oh THANK ZONE! He thought you'd NEVER ask! You unsophisticated-! *fist fight in a library* Still a dick, though. Always and forever.

And just? Imagine Broadway stretched out into a floating city. That never sleeps. Never stops. Shows ever changing. Some on a cycle, some only once. Dream-like. Beautiful. Eye catching.

And yeah, Danny didn't think he LIKED musicals. It was more of a Jazz thing. But? This was important! Gotta get the whole family in the Speeder. We're going to see a play, guys! We'll pick when we get there! Family road trip! Educational! We can make notes!

His parents are trying to be supportive. Big, fixed, strained grins. Trying to pretend to be excited. But they... DO seem reluctantly intrigued? And Jazz is all but vibrating in her seat. It's basically her "before you go away to college" present. And she is THRILLED.

The longer she excitedly speculates? The more into it she gets their folks. This IS gonna be new! Exciting! Never before seen Ghost Culture! Music! As a FAMILY! Think we could find souvenirs? Ooooh, wonder if they sell CDs??!

Then? They GET there. And it's... it's like seeing the Las Vegas strip for the first time, except multiplied into a city. Made of even MORE styles and eras. At angles gravity would never allow.

The air filled with laughter and excitement, people rushing to shows or humming bits of tunes. Street stalls. Fountains. Flowers growing everywhere.

They could stay for months and not even reach a fraction of these buildings. His parents are taking countless photos. His sister squeeling with joy as she races for an information kiosk like they just arrived at Disneyland. He, at least, remembers to lock up the Speeder. Grab their day bags.

When did HE become the responsible one?

The argue over shows. Obviously. Wouldn't be Fenton's otherwise. HE wants to see the alien one. It's from mars! But it's his sister's trip, as his dad points out, so she gets to choose. She picks a musical set during the Fall of Krpton. He's... reluctantly kinda interested. I mean, EVERYBODY likes Superman, right?

It's... it's amazing. Terrible, but amazing. I mean? A coming of age story cut tragically short? Oof. Hello, massively projecting then getting FEELS about it! Yeah, sure, rip my heart out why don't you? He's fine. No, really! Just drowning in his own emotions over here. The refrain of "A Life Well Lived"? *gargling dying whale noises* he's FINE. Not grappling with anything! Go on without him!

Thankfully?

They DO sell CDs.

He... he may end up, kinda, getting a bit of a collection. Going on the weekends, hoping show to show. Wandering to whichever catches his eye in the moment. Buying the CDs for one's he likes. Which? Honestly is a lot of them. Even though there's all sorts of genres and languages. Cause it... it RESONATES you know?

The grief. The anger. The "I have died but I wasn't FINISHED. It isn't FAIR.". And? Something about ghost speak flows so BEAUTIFULLY in song? It's hard to explain. But he... he needs them.

A pair of headphones, a CD, and a clear night sky? Nothing touches it. It's like a trance made of light. Like he can just drift.

The problem? Is the CDs are kinda... Zone made? They're radioactive, for one. Nothing a Fenton CD player can't handle. But... they? Also? Kinda fuckin GLOW? Like... very, very noticeably. And not in a "ha ha, cool glow in the dark paint!" Sorta way.

.........but like FUCK is he leaving his music behind when he goes to college. Gotham will have to deal. It's already a burning shit-nado, it can handle this. Probably. He'll put um in a lead lined box. Actually, speaking OF.... he needs to get a few more of those... *goes back to packing*

Which? Is how? The Bats are treated to some of the most HAUNTING music they've ever heard, belted and crooned from Some Guy's speakers, out an open window, on the "stop for a mid-patrol drink of water and a snack" building. It's one of the intersections of their patrol routes. And THAT? That is some dude listening to a Romani ballad about death and the circus. Now it's a musical about the trenches of an obscure war.

Okay, that was DEFINITELY Kryptonian. Like... coherent Krypto- *Bruce gets a call from Clark on his "work" number DEMANDING to know where that is coming from. Who is that voice Bruce?!* huh.... Well Then.

@hdgnj @hypewinter @nerdpoe @lolottes @babbling-babull @spidori @mutable-manifestation @the-witchhunter

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #minji's writing #broadway of the Zone au #Danny's music au

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bitterkarella · 3 months

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Midnight Pals: Hackin'

King: i can't believe elon's grok is pretending i'm friends with him King: i need to stop that AI before everyone believes it! King: i've got to hire a hacker King: franz, you've got to help me Franz Kafka: what? me? Barker: steve, no

Kafka: i'm not a hacker King: oh i thought franz was a hacker Barker: what gave you THAT impression? King: you know, with the cat ear headphones and the striped thigh socks Barker: no steve that's something ENTIRELY different Kafka: n-no it isn't, on second thought yes I'm totally a hacker

Kafka: it means i'm a hacker, nothing else Barker: sure franz Kafka: it does! it totally means i'm a hacker! Barker: franz, go play with your blahaj plush, the adults are talking here

Barker: you know who you need? you need william gibson Barker: the best hacker money can buy King: william gibson? how do i contact him? Barker: you don't Barker: he'll contact you

King: can you really hack grok, william? William Gibson: [wearing black duster and fingerless black gloves] my hacker name is shadow gigabyte King: oh sorry Gibson: can i hack grok? listen kid i was cyberbyting the megabyte mainframe when you were just rebooting your motherboard mouse data bandwidth modem email King: wow!

Gibson: my CPU is a neural net processer, a learning computer King: wow he really sounds like he knows what he's talking about! King: that definitely sounds like hacker talk to me Gibson: CD Rom Gibson: internet Joe Hill: dad can i talk to you for a second King: not now joe daddy's hiring a hacker

Gibson: [wildly slapping keyboard] i'll re-index the mega bit blaster cyber codex Gibson: [wildly slapping keyboard] now we'll cybersecurity the lock box data center King: hey what happens if you push that button? Gibson: what the-- no!! [klaxons sound] King: what's that mean? Gibson: shit Gibson: we've got company

Gibson: sentient cyber virus electronic guard cyberbots Gibson: real high tech Gibson: state of the art in bio-tech wetware neural-data scrapers Gibson: [putting on sunglasses with red laser scope] and they ain't friendly

King: what are we going to do?! Gibson: kid, you keep your hands to yourself unless you wanna become roadkill on the information super highway!!! Gibson: hold on to your CPU (central processing unit)!!!

Gibson: [wildly slapping keyboard] gotta reconfigure the darkweb logistics for ethernet wavetech Gibson: [wildly slapping keyboard] upload the memory downloader for dumpware backup Gibson: [wildly slapping keyboard] uncodify the cyberpatch modifer aaaaand Gibson: i'm in

King: wow, you hacked twitter?? how did you do it? Gibson: the greatest hackers never reveal their secrets [earlier] Gibson: [wearing fake mustache] hey elon its me catturd Gibson: could you give me your password? Elon Musk: sure it's "picklerick420"!

#midnight pals #the midnight society #midnight society #stephen king #clive barker #franz kafka #joe hill #william gibson #elon musk

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newsdaliy · 2 years

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Sunday Mega Block | Tomorrow is the mega block on Central Railway, read full details here

File Photo Mumbai: Central Railway will be a mega block on the local route of Mumbai division on Sunday for various engineering and maintenance works. Dn slow services leaving CSMT from 10.48 am to 3.49 pm will be diverted on Dn fast line between CSMT and Vidyavihar stations, halting at Byculla, Parel, Dadar, Matunga, Sion and Kurla stations and further on Dn slow line will be diverted. Up slow…

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#Block #Central #details #full #mega #railway #read #Sunday #tomorrow

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blogkinhdoanh-net · 2 years

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Thị trường bán lẻ sau đại dịch phục hồi mạnh mẽ

Chuỗi Thai Central Retail đã công bố kế hoạch đầu tư thêm 20 nghìn tỷ đồng vào Go! và các cửa hàng Tops Market tại Việt Nam. Quyết định này nhằm tăng doanh số bán hàng lên 65 nghìn tỷ đồng trong giai đoạn 2022-2026 và mở rộng mạng lưới điểm bán hàng từ 40 tỉnh, thành phố lên con số 55. (more…)

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merikheti · 2 years

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भारत में 2 बिलियन डॉलर इन्वेस्ट करेगा UAE, जानिये इंटीग्रेटेड फूड पार्क के बारे में

भारत में इंटीग्रेटेड फूड पार्क बनाने संयुक्त अरब अमीरात (यूएई) (United Arab Emirates – UAE) ने 2 बिलियन डॉलर इन्वेस्ट करने का निर्णय लिया है। गुरुवार को I2U2 की बैठक में भारत में निवेश से जुड़ी जानकारी प्रकाश में आई। संयुक्त अरब अमीरात द्वारा भारत में इन्वेस्टमेंट के जरिये इंटीग्रेटेड फूड पार्क की सीरीज डेवलप की जाएगी।

अव्वल तो यह I2U2 की बैठक क्या है, मेगा फूड पार्क (Mega Food Park) क्या है, इसके क्या फायदे हैं, भारत में वर्तमान में इस संदर्भ में क्या स्थिति है, इन सवालों के जानिये जवाब मेरीखेती पर।

संयुक्त अरब अमीरात के द्वारा भारत में इंटीग्रेटेड फूड पार्क की सीरीज डेवलपमेंट से जुड़े निवेश के बारे में बयान I2U2 की संयुक्त बैठक में दिया गया।

गौरतलब है कि भारत के प्रधान मंत्री नरेंद्र मोदी, अमेरिका के राष्ट्रपति जो बाइडेन, इजरायल के पीएम यायर लापिड (Yair Lapid) और यूएई के राष्ट्रपति मोहम्मद बिन जायद अल नाहयान, I2U2 के पहले वर्चुअल शिखर सम्मेलन में सम्मिलित हैं। इस सम्मेलन में ये लीडर्स संयुक्त आर्थिक परियोजनाओं पर चर्चारत हैं।

I2U2 का अर्थ

आईटूयू2 (I2U2) भारत, अमेरिका, इजरायल और यूएई द्वारा मिलकर बनाया गया एक समूह है। दरअसल, I2U2 नाम में आई-2 का मतलब इंडिया (भारत) और इस्राइल से, जबकि यू-2 का उपयोग यूए�� और यूएई के लिए किया गया है।

I2U2 समूह की अवधारणा विगत 18 अक्टूबर को चार देशों के विदेश मंत्रियों की बैठक में हुई थी। गौरतलब है कि बीते तीन सालों में भारत के संबंध समूह के अन्य तीन देशों के साथ मजबूत हुए हैं। समूह 12U2 का प्रमुख उद्देश्य पानी, ऊर्जा, परिवहन, अंतरिक्ष, स्वास्थ्य एवं फूड सिक्योरिटी अर्थात खाद्य सुरक्षा जैसे छह क्षेत्रों में मिलकर निवेश एवं प्रोत्साहन को बढ़ावा एवं मदद देना है। इस I2U2 वर्चुअल सम्मेलन में प्रमुख चर्चा का विषय यूक्रेन-रूस गतिरोध, वैश्विक खाद्य एवं ऊर्जा का संकट हैं।

ये भी पढ़ें: यूएई ने भारतीय गेंहू व आटे निर्यात पर लगाई 4 माह तक रोक

मेगा फूड पार्क (Mega Food Park) किसे कहते हैं ?

मेगा फूड पार्क में एग्री प्रोडक्ट्स (कृषि उत्पाद) के भंडारण और उसकी प्रोसेसिंग की व्यवस्था रहती है। इस व्यवस्था तंत्र में इन प्रॉडक्ट्स की प्रोसेसिंग के जरिये इनका मूल्य संवर्धन किया जाता है। इसके लिए व्यवस्थित तंत्र के तहत कच्चे माल को उच्च क्वालिटी की ऊंची कीमत वाले उत्पादों में बदला जाता है।

यानी मेगा फूड पार्क (Mega Food Park) खाद्य सुरक्षा के लिए तैयार वह व्यवस्थित तंत्र है, जिसमें खेत की फसलों के भंडारण के साथ ही उससे तैयार उत्पादों के भंडारण और उसकी प्रोसेसिंग से लेकर उन्हें बाजार उपलब्ध कराने तक की सारी व्यवस्था निहित है।

ये भी पढ़ें: किसान उड़ान योजना से विकसित हो रही ये सुविधाएं : बदल रही पूर्वोत्तर के किसानों की तस्वीर और तक़दीर

मौजूदा तौर पर भारत में किसान और किसानी हित में लागू मंडी क्रय-विक्रय व्यवस्था के मुकाबले यह तंत्र इसलिए सफल कहा जा सकता है क्योंकि, इसमें फसल के उच्चतम उपभोग से लेकर उसके उचित एवं उच्चतम दाम प्राप्त करने का सार भी समाहित है। किसानों को उपज की सही कीमत मिले, बाजार को जरूरी प्रोसेस्ड प्रॉडक्ट्स मिले, इस उद्देश्य से केंद्र सरकार ने वर्ष 2009 में देश में 42 मेगा फूड पार्क स्थापित करने की दिशा में काम शुरू किया था। वर्तमान में, देश में 22 मेगा फूड पार्क ने काम करना शुरू कर दिया है।

केंद्रीय मंत्री पटेल ने दी जानकारी

संसद में शुक्रवार को केंद्रीय खाद्य प्रसंस्करण उद्योग राज्य मंत्री प्रहलाद सिंह पटेल (Prahlad Singh Patel) ने देश में स्वीकृत 38 मेगा फूड पार्कों को दी गई अंतिम मंजूरी के बारे में जानकारी प्रदान की। उन्होंने बताया कि 3 अन्य मेगा फूड पार्क को भी सैद्धांतिक अनुमति दी गई है। इन तीन में से दो मेगा फूड पार्क मेघालय और तमिलनाडु में स्थापित होने जा रहे हैं।

फूड पार्कों में 6.66 लाख रोजगार सृजित

केंद्रीय मंत्री ने एक सवाल का जवाब में बताया कि, एक मेगा फूड पार्क से प्रत्यक्ष-अप्रत्यक्ष तौर पर 5 हजार लोगों के लिए रोजगार सृजन होता है। यहां यह ध्यान रहे कि बिजनेस प्लान के आधार पर प्रोजेक्ट्स में सृजित रोजगार संख्या भिन्न भी हो सकती है।

केंद्रीय मंत्री ने बताया कि वर्तमान में संचालित 22 मेगा फूड पार्कों से लगभग 6,66,000 लोगों को प्रत्यक्ष और अप्रत्यक्ष रूप से रोजगार प्राप्त हुआ है। राज्य सभा में लिखित जवाब में उन्होंने बताया कि, ये 22 मेगा फूड पार्क- असम, पंजाब, ओडिशा, मिजोरम, महाराष्ट्र सहित 15 राज्यों में संचालित किए जा रहे हैं।

मेगा फूड पार्क में उपलब्ध व्यवस्थाएं

मेगा फूड पार्क एक ऐसा बड़ा तंत्र है जहां कृषि उत्पादित फसल (एग्री प्रॉडक्ट्स), फल-सब्जियों के सुरक्षित भंडारण की व्यवस्था होती है। यहां इन प्रॉडक्ट्स की प्रोसेसिंग कर मार्केट की डिमांड के मुताबिक प्रॉडक्ट्स तैयार किए जा सकते हैं। साथ ही इन मेगा फूड पार्क का सड़क, रेल एवं जल मार्ग से जुड़ने का भी बेहतर नेटवर्क होता है। यहां निर्मित वस्तुओं को कम समय में देश के अन्य राज्यों के साथ ही निर्यात के तौर पर विदेशों तक अल्प समय में पहुंचाया जा सकता है।

ये भी पढ़ें: धान की कटाई के बाद भंडारण के वैज्ञानिक तरीका

क्लस्टर बेस्ड सर्विस

मेगा फूड पार्क को “क्लस्टर” बेस्ड अवधारणा पर विकसित किया गया है। इसमें प्राथमिक प्रसंस्करण केंद्रों (Primary Processing Center), केंद्रीय प्रसंस्करण केंद्रों (Central Processing Center) की व्यवस्था की गई है।

फल-सब्जियों के साथ-साथ उद्यमियों द्वारा खाद्य प्रसंस्करण यूनिटों (Food Processing Units) की स्थापना के लिए भी इसमें 25-30 पूर्ण विकसित भूखंडों सहित आपूर्ति श्रृंखला संरचना का तंत्र स्थापित किया जाता है।

किसानों को मिलने वाले फायदे

कृषि उत्पादित फसल के भंडारण की पर्याप्त व्यवस्था के अभाव में फल-सब्जियों के सड़ने का खतरा रहता है। मेगा फूड पार्क में एग्री प्रॉडक्ट्स के भंडारण की व्यवस्था के साथ ही प्रोसेसिंग तंत्र की सुलभता के कारण फल-सब्जियों के सड़ने के बजाए, कीमत बढ़ने की संभावना बढ़ जाती है।

कच्चे माल के सुरक्षित भविष्य के कारण किसान, उद्योग, व्यापारी के मुनाफे के साथ ही जिले एवं राज्य के राजस्व में भी सकारात्मक वृद्धि होती है।

फल-सब्जियों जैसी फसलों की प्रोसेसिंग के विकल्प न होने से, दूरदराज तक भेजने के चक्कर में व्यापारी व किसान को आर्थिक नुकसान उठाना पड़ता था। ऐसे में जिन राज्यों, जिलों में किसी फसल की यदि प्रधानता है, वहां प्रोसेसिंग यूनिट लग जाए तो फसल सड़ने से बचेगी, किसान का भला होगा, व्यापारी भी नुकसान से बच जाएगा।

ये भी पढ़ें: किसान रेल योजना (Kisan Rail info in Hindi)

इसे टमाटर से समझा जा सकता है, अल्प काल तक खाद्य योग्य टमाटर उत्पादित क्षेत्र में, टोमैटो सॉस बनाने की प्रोसेसिंग यूनिट यदि विकसित की जाए, तो किसान व किसानी सभी का कल्याण होगा।

ये भी पढ़ें: टमाटर की खेती में हो सकती है लाखों की कमाई : जानें उन्नत किस्में

काम करने का तंत्र

मेगा फूड पार्क प्रोजेक्ट का कार्यान्वयन एक विशेष प्रयोजन उपाय (एसपीवी) करती है। जो संस्था अधिनियम के अंतर्गत एक पंजीकृत कॉरपोरेट निकाय है। राज्य सरकार, राज्य सरकार की संस्थाओं एवं सहकारिताओं को मेगा फूड पार्क परियोजना के कार्यान्वयन के लिए पृथक रूप से एसपीवी बनाने की आवश्यकता नहीं है।

यहां संचालित हो रहे मेगा फूड पार्क

प्रदान की गयी जानकारी के अनुसार संचालित किए जा रहे 22 मेगा फूड पार्क इस प्रकार हैं :

स्रीनी मेगा फूड पार्क, चित्तूर, आंध्र प्रदेश

गोदवारी मेगा एक्वा पार्क, पश्चिम गोदावरी, आंध्र प्रदेश

नॉर्थ इस्ट मेगा फूड पार्क, नलबाड़ी, असम

इंडस बेस्ट म��गा फूड पार्क, रायपुर, छत्तीसगढ़

गुजरात एग्रो मेगा फूड पार्क, सूरत, गुजरात

क्रेमिका मेगा फूड पार्क, ऊना, हिमाचल प्रदेश

इंटिग्रेटेड मेगा फूड पार्क, तुमकुर, कर्नाटक

केरल औद्योगिक अवसंरचना विकास निगम (KINFRA) मेगा फूड पार्क, पलक्कड़, केरल

इंडस मेगा फूड पार्क, खरगौन, मध्य प्रदेश

अवंती मेगा फूड पार्क, देवास, मध्य प्रदेश

पैथन मेगा फूड पार्क, औरंगाबाद, महाराष्ट्र

सतारा मेगा फूड पार्क, सतारा, महाराष्ट्र

ज़ोरम मेगा फ़ूड पार्क, कोलासिब, मिज़ोरम

एमआईटीएस मेगा फूड पार्क, रायगढ़, ओडिशा

इंटरनेशनल मेगा फूड पार्क, फज्जिलका, पंजाब

सुखजीत मेगा फूड पार्क, कपूरथला, पंजाब

ग्रीनेटक मेगा फूड पार्क, अजमेर, राजस्थान

स्मार्ट एग्रो मेगा फूड पार्क, निजामाबाद, तेलंगाना

त्रिपुरा मेगा फूड पार्क, पश्चिम त्रिपुरा, त्रिपुरा

पतंजली फूड एंड हर्बल पार्क, हरिद्वार, उत्तराखंड

हिमालयन मेगा फूड पार्क, उधम सिंह नगर, उत्तराखंड

जंगीपुर बंगाल मेगा फूड पार्क, मुर्शीदाबाद, पश्चिम बंगाल।

भारत में यूएई द्वारा इन्वेस्ट की जा रही बड़ी राशि से निश्चित ही उम्मीद की जा सकती है कि, इससे I2U2 के उद्देश्य पूरे होंगे और भारत के कृषि उत्पादन, विनिर्माण एवं बाजार तंत्र में कसावट आने से उचित परिणाम मिलेंगे।

source भारत में 2 बिलियन डॉलर इन्वेस्ट करेगा UAE, जानिये इंटीग्रेटेड फूड पार्क के बारे में

#Central Processing Center #Food Processing Units #I2U2 #Mega Food Park #Prahlad Singh Patel #Primary Processing Center #UAE #आईटूयूटू

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mooishbeam · 10 months

Text

『♡』 Cruel Prince

♡ featuring: villain!diluc ragnvindr x princess!reader

♡ summary: you are forced to marry the manipulative prince of a faraway kingdom. malicious compliance ensues. wc: 3.2k+

♡ cw/tw: afab, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, forced orgasm, hate sex, no foreplay, breeding, heavy choking, spanking, face slapping, spit, creampie, hair pulling, rough sex, diluc is mega possessive

notes: I promiseee im gonna come out with shorter fics im so sorry i couldn't help myself the fanart is so good :(( art by eriimyon on twitter <3

Brilliance freckled through the silk drapes of your extravagant windows and onto your resting face. A silhouette rubs your arm, followed by “You must wake now, Your Grace.” Her amiable tone made your heavy eyes ajar, looking up to see the sweet twinkle of the maid. You sit up and stretch, letting out an exaggerated yawn. “Good morning!” you exclaim. She tucks the straggly hairs aside.

“Good afternoon, you mean?”

“Oh. Oops.” She shakes her head and hands you a lukewarm meal. This was a frequent occurrence, staying up late to twirl in your room until your feet ached. Fantasizing about the enchanting gambol you would share with your lover. When you eventually collapsed, you would dream of a man whisking you off to dance in a meadow. Being confined to the limited space of the baroque palace only intensified your curiosity. The kingdom your parent's shoulder is fruitful. Lined with riches and grateful civilians, all you know is comfortability. That comfortability bored you.

“The king would like to speak with you downstairs once you’ve settled” she states. You give an exasperated sigh and flop onto the featherbed. You weren’t looking forward to this meeting. “M’kay. Thanks. Love you.”

You make your way toward the dining room after breakfast. Almost every painting you skip by is of your older brother. It was no secret that you weren’t the favorite child. Your father wasn’t particularly fond of having a daughter. You slide down the railing of the grand staircase, entering the still air. Even the sound of your tiptoes carries volumes in complete quiet.

“Did... someone die?” you say, trying to break the ice. Your brother and mother sit across from each other with their heads down, afraid to interrupt the king who sat at the end of the dining table.

“No. Have a seat (Y/N).” he says, his hand signaling to the multitude of chairs remaining. You take the middle. Your father looks more stressed than usual, crescent shapes embedded between his eyebrows.

“There is something we have to discuss” he proclaims, interlocking his fingers. “Sure.”

“There’s been some disputes... between us. And the kingdom of Ragnvindr. Their king has been ill for many years now.”

“That’s too bad for them” you say, checking out of the conversation. You know of the Ragnvindrs, but you weren’t interested. “It is. However, their commerce is flourishing. The civilians have an excess of resources. They’re the central hub for wine. If we had access to that, we could provide greatly for the public.”

“Mm, okay.” Your mind darts to unique spots of detail decorating the ceiling.

“Do you remember talking to Prince Diluc?” It hadn’t jogged your memory until now, but you recall one time the flaming redhead came to the palace a few months ago. You saw him in passing; exchanging few words in light-hearted conversation before he met with your father. You noted the calm scarlet pupils and his attentiveness when you spoke. He seemed amicable until you uncovered the rumors. Whenever your mother invited her friends, the walls would erupt with gossip. You couldn’t help but listen through the door. “- he tried to kill his father!” Your mother declines but another woman chimed in. “People don’t get suddenly ill like that. He must’ve poisoned him! The poor man can’t talk anymore so Prince Diluc runs everything.”

“He’ll stop at nothing to get what he wants. Anyone who disagrees with him is beaten. Even death!” you heard the dramatic drawl of another. “Oh please, not with his brother around.” You thought it was funny and went straight to the maid to parrot their pompousness. It wasn’t until his brother died in their home weeks later under “mysterious circumstances”, that you started to take the allegations seriously.

“He’s shaping out to be an exceptional young man.”

“I guess. Why are you telling me this?” you ask. Your father sucks in a breath.

“You are to marry Prince Diluc in a week’s time.” he declares. You freeze, beads of sweat collecting on your forehead. Your heart dropped to your stomach.

“What? Whe- who decided this?”

“It was a collective decision from me, your mother, and the Ragnvindrs.”

“No! I didn’t get to decide. You took away my choice!”

“(Y/N), this will ensure peace for both of our kingdoms. We shall do what’s best for the-”

“I don’t know who he is. How could you do that to your own daughter, what kind of father marries their child off to a stranger?” Your voice gets increasingly louder. You were too irate to back down. Your father is seething.

“We will not argue about this-” he mumbles, the veins on his hands bulging from the tightening fists.

“Do you even know who he is? He killed his own brother, and his people fear his retaliation. He’ll backstab you at any chance if it means more power. He’s using you-”

“ENOUGH!” Your father slammed his leaden fists on the table, causing a harrowing bang to ring in your ears. All you can do is look at him, shaking, searching for any semblance of hope. He was unwavering.

“I hate you.” Your defeated voice falls to a murmur, and you stumble to your room in a haze.

The next 6 days were vague. You stayed in your room mostly, the maid accompanying you as you cry on and off for hours. Rage burned inside you, it dented furniture and ripped up cushions. You were exhausted and vengeful. An instructor comes by occasionally to teach you for your wedding day, but you find no joy in it.

You're tranquil in the luxuriant flower garden you once found solace in. A garden you’d never see again after tonight. Suddenly, you hear the gate creak open. Strawberry strands peek behind the sunflowers. It was Diluc. The silence was painful. “Hello.”

“Hello. I figured it would be considerate to come see you briefly” he returns, grabbing your hand. You catch yourself staring.

“We are to be married soon.”

“...Right.”

“You don’t seem to be happy about this arrangement.”

“I’m sure you have many requests for your hand in marriage. Why me?”

“I don’t have a say in it. You don’t either.” That can’t be right, their king is senile you thought.

“That’s not true. I know what you’re really like.” His eyes narrow into yours. “You could turn this entire kingdom to ash if you willed it.”

“You know naught of me.”

“You killed your brother and now you’re after my father, aren’t you?” He’s relaxed despite the accusations.

“What would you do? As long as we are wedded, you will obey.” You snatch your hand from him.

“I will do no such thing” you utter, holding your head high. He laughs and lifts your chin with a finger, his thumb softly rubbing your cheek.

“Such a naïve princess, so far beneath me. You will be mine. Act accordingly.” You want to slap that smug look off his face.

“I’ll be going now. Don’t stay up too late.”

Everything about your wedding is opulent. Visitors sport grandiose garments and intricate jewelry, leaving priceless gifts in your celebration. The travel to the kingdom of Ragnvindr was silent, minus the glares you shot to your parents. You disappear the minute you step down the aisle, taking notice of the guests. Faceless people with appropriated smiles and forced words of kindness; a scornful masquerade.

Your vows are pitiful, and you wear an ingenuine smile for every “aww” in attendance. “I do” is said, and your fate is sealed through a chaste kiss.

The dance arrived sooner than you thought. The floor was large and elegant, a thousand eyes watching you at the start of the staircase. You almost get stage fright. Diluc waits at the bottom, his gloved hand longing to take yours. You saunter to him. You expected him to be stiff and unprepared, but as you held his hand something changed. He scoops you by the waist with the other and twirls you around, igniting the music. His steps are effortless, bringing you near him and releasing you for another spin. The movements lift you into a different scene, of green pastures and bright blue sky. Only you and Diluc. The tune curled in your ears and whispered radiance. Your stride is loose, guided by the inducing notes and swinging pendant on your neck. Your arms glide past his chest and he steadies you gently in an intimate embrace. Dilucs lips barely hover over your ear.

“You look stunning.”

“I know. You look grotesque.” You feel a puff of wind against your ear. Glancing at him, you haven’t paid much attention to his appearance until now. His physique seemed to be chiseled from the finest marble, intentional with each contour. He smelled of musk and bitter vanilla, the warm glow of glittering chandeliers highlighting his rugged features.

“You like what you see, hmm?” You didn’t reply.

“Do you like to dance?”

“It’s not your business.”

“Well, if I'm right, you can dance here every day if you want. But you must behave.” His honeyed words made you hot, and you looked away. “No. You are my enemy.”

“Very well, then.” He continued to entrap you, sewing seeds in your brain through the sway of your bodies. You were tangled in a field of thorns, pricked by his fleeting romantic gestures. It confused and enticed you. But the dance came to its end, and reality set in. He leaned down to kiss your hand, his gaze never leaving yours. The music resumes its normal pace, motioning people to return to the dance floor.

The idea of Diluc displaying you like property tests your pettiness; you need his unruffled persona to snap. He watches you dance into the arms of another man, and you’re sure to make eye contact with him. You flash a mischievous smile as you spin through the exuberant crowd, leaving him behind. You thought you lost him. Just then, shade abruptly comes down on you and the nameless man. He turns first, cowering and slinking into the masses. You don’t face the shadow until your face is grabbed by leather and twisted sharply to encounter the reddening face of Diluc.

“Have you lost your mind?”

“If I’m beneath you, this shouldn’t bother you, right?” you say, smiling at your ability to break him.

He grits his teeth. “You are forbidden from interacting with any man.”

“By whom? Your words mean nothing.” He gets closer to you; a death stare bore into your pleased expression. “If you’re angry, do something.”

You’ve never been hauled anywhere this fast. He pulled you through the bustling room and up the stairs with absurd force, not turning to you once. You were nearly hovering off the ground from his strength. He opened the sculpted doors leading to his bedroom and pushed you inside. Before you can see him, he pins you between himself and the ornate vanity. His nails stab into the wood the more he waits for your explanation.

“What happened to your composure?” you taunt.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“Not yours.” His lips share space with yours, noses scarcely touching.

“Sorely mistaken. You belong to me.”

“Prove it.”

Carnal lust washed over you. Your lips instantly collide, cracking dams of yearning through sloppy kisses and smacking teeth. His tongue is demanding and seeks entry, but you deny him. He grabs your neck tightly.

“Open.”

“Say please.” Diluc pries your lips open with his fingers, playing with the wet mass while he nips your ear. The foreign feeling in your mouth makes your mind numb.

“Nasty little minx.” he husks, forcing your tongue to stick out before it contacts his. His kisses are deep and primal, holding you close to the point of merging. He’s squeezing your neck occasionally and teasing the dizzying airflow. The fire cascading down his back envelopes you in a slow bleed, tickling your chest and face. His scent surrounds you, exhilarates you. You pierce his bottom lip with your teeth, looking to regain some sense of control and he groans from the feeling. He promptly hoists you off the ground with your back facing the vanity and his hands on your ass. His greed doesn’t stop, plunging and contorting the organ in unreachable places. You taste sprinkles of metallic flavor. The sensation has your knees weak. You push him away, both breathing heavily with a trail of spit between you.

“This is nothing like the ceremony kiss.”

“Don’t you want my full honesty?” he rasped. He dips down to your upper thigh, past the slit in your dress. His pointed fangs catch onto your garter, and he slips it off, groping the plush flesh as he lifts your leg up. Your fingers intertwine with his scalp and tug it, earning a harsh bite on your inner thigh. Rough kisses drag up your body until he makes it back to your lips. You tear his button-down open, navigating the solid muscle under the fabric. Light purple marks are left in your wake that decorate his collarbone. Diluc splits your dress down the back and shreds it off you. You're soaked, relishing in the volatile nature beyond the mask.

He picks you up and hurls you on the bed, following you on top. You wrestle for dominance, entwined in passion. Somehow, Diluc ends up underneath you, your legs on both sides of him. You take this opportunity to pin his wrists and grind on his throbbing length. He lets you have it knowing that he’s stronger than you are. He kicks off his slacks and you pull down his stained boxers. A sudden fear hits you once they’re removed; his slightly curved cock was impossibly long and girthy, precome trickling down the angry tip. You weren’t sure it would fit.

“You’re just going to gawk at it?” he says, restless from the ache. Nervousness blends in your gut. You wanted him badly, but you had to make him suffer for at least some time. Hovering over it, you slather his tip in your juices and admire the way he bites his lip. You lower your folds onto him, submerging the cockhead and leave it there, stirring your hips with it inside only to pull it out. Diluc is disheveled, star fished, and spread wildly across the sheets as he grunts from each plunge. He had to feel you, to claim you.

“You want it?”

“I don’t beg” he says flatly. You roll your eyes, immersing his shaft halfway. He releases a long shaky groan and attempts to buck his hips, but you rise before he can go further. His cock was covered in syrupy fluids from the moments of friction, and he didn’t know how much more he could take.

“You won’t get anything with that repulsive attitude” you tease, and start moving at a leisurely pace, carefully stretching yourself out.

“Repulsive, yet using me for your desires?”

“That’s all you’re good for.” You’re shuddering from the feeling of your walls molding to the bruising size.

“Then I’ll be sure to satisfy you.” His calloused fingers break out of your sparing clutch and grab your hips, jerking you down to the hilt with a soggy plap. The wind is knocked out of you, shockwaves through your spine as you heaved over trembling. It hurts, but you can’t help but feel aroused by the desperate look he gave you. “Mm good, you’re sucking me so tight.”

“Shit- slow down-” you plead. He wraps his arms around your hips, arching your back and leaning you forward. “Quiet.” Diluc bends his knees and begins to bully his way into your cunt. His thrusts are unforgiving, if he wasn’t holding you in place, you’d be airborne. He slips out completely and rams into you so deep it feels like he's burrowing into your stomach; yet you grip him like a vice, hungry for more. You were melting and all you heard was his quick beating heart and the wet squelching clash of your bodies. Diluc shifts to the vanity mirror opposite the bed, entranced by the violent rippling of your ass and sticky strings your puffy vulva left. You’re teeming on an orgasm, blurring the lines of pleasure and pain.

“I’m gonna come- ah!” His hands move to your ass, striking each side hard enough to welt numerous times. He digs his nails into the searing flesh, savoring it. “Louder, I want everyone to know who owns you” he says and pushes his fingers in your mouth to pull your jaw slack. You deliver, allowing your erotic wails to echo through the halls. “Come for me princess.” His command sends you over the edge and you’re dissolved into pleasure, zeroing in on his guttural moans, the low fuck’s stuttering out of him. Your nails score his chest. He spreads your backside, enjoying the view of your convulsing heat drenching his balls.

Diluc flips you over on your back before you’re done gathering yourself. He tosses the damp shirt on the floor and reveals the crisp v-line deliciously carved under his sculpted abs. He manhandles you into a pretzel, securing your sore thighs. He puts his hands on yours and pushes them back further. “Fucking filthy, you’re such a mess” he says, smearing his leaking shaft up and down your hypersensitive clit. He quickly engulfs himself in your gooey warmth again and sighs. “You’re beautiful like this.” He’s pounding hard, foreheads touching and breath mixing. You’re both sweating, mascara running down your cheeks and needy moans leaving either of you from addictive ecstasy. His tip licks your sweet spot consistently and your eyes loll back. “That’s it, take my cock like a good wife.” One hand reaches for your throat while the other flicks your clit rapidly. The firm grip dots your vision black, and you pulse from sick delight. He stops occasionally to slap you across your face. It stings, you hate him, but the spasming veins caressing your walls make you question that belief. “Oh my god - look at you” he moans, staring at the shiny white ring forming at the base of his thrusts. Your hands find passage in his thick tresses and guide his attention to you. The coil threatened to snap at any minute. “Gonna carry my baby, then you can never leave.”

Your blood runs cold. “Huh? Wait-” You try to budge but he’s stronger than you, sweeping the nub faster with ravenous strokes. Electricity consumes your rational thoughts with a thumping finish, cloudy and fluttering. “Ngh- you’ll look so pretty with a belly” Diluc groans and chases his high. His eyes are glossed over, he throws his head back and finally falls apart, creamy ropes coating your insides with his balls flush against you. He pants as if he’s moved mountains and twitches from slow strokes, trying to get his come as deep in you as possible. His thumb presses upon your lips and you instinctively open your mouth. Spit settles on your tongue and he watches you swallow. You taste his kiss right after. When he pulls out, globs of semen dribble out your slit, but he fingers it back inside.

“Keep it in” he says darkly. He glances at the pendant you’re still wearing—an invaluable heirloom from your parents—and snatches the chain off your neck. In one devastating hurl, he shatters it on the floor. “I’ll make sure you only have me.”

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