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Here is a rant that nobody cares about, but it's good enough to read, I'll even give you a TLDR now.
TLDR: We are this way, because it's the only way we are allowed to be, as retail traders.
Now that that's out of the way, lets look at it from a normie traders point of view.
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1. Pattern Day Trading: Why does it exist? To protect us? From what? Do you ask for a W2 for everyone literally walking into a casino to see if they are capable of losing what they are risking? No, they are free to spend as they please. Funny, I thought that's what a free market was for too?
2. Market Makers: You want us to literally just stop, leave, and use a casino? Use DraftKings and that sort of platform, ok. Now what, how do you make your money off of "dumb money" when it's gone? You need us, we need you.
3. *WHY* is a collective of people on Reddit such a danger?: For the sake of arguing, before this happened, there were 800,000 of us just being collectively dumb together. LETS JUST SAY, combined, we had 1 billion dollars between 800,000 people. That's scary? You lost 2.7b in the first wave of short losses, then asked for help for another 3b. Do you know what that means? THAT MEANS, that hedge funds, as a collective, is the problem, NOT REDDIT.
4. When we got together, it was a crime, when you got together, it was not a problem? How can we be "investors" in a rigged game, literally, please explain it. We HAVE TO GAMBLE to make money, because those are YOUR RULES.
5. Trading is passive income, not a job: Yeah, it's a passive way to kill time for 95% of us, make a little side money, couple grand here or there, sometimes get lucky and make 10k. This is a lot for regular people, it's literally NOTHING to you, but debt payment and vacation funds for us.
6. We are Degenerates and Dumb Money: If a large group of dumb people cost you money is a problem...then why is a large group of smart people (you market makers and hedge funds) that manipulate costs to take dumb moneys money away, allowed?

Anyways, there is a list 3 miles long.
GameStop isn't about GameStop, it's a beacon of reason, it could have been any stock, Citron just picked the target and we used it.
Good Luck Diamond Handing gents. Think about it this way. No matter what happens, THEY HAVE LOST MORE MONEY THIS MONTH, than what average day traders have collectively made in 5 years. Let that sink in.
Edit: This blew up, appreciate all the support!
I recently saw this video, it's 10 minutes long, but the first 3 are incredibly important! Jim Cramer exposes what illegal activities hedge funds and short sellers do to manipulate the market. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VMuEis3byY4&t=2s . They literally take advantage of the SEC not knowing what they do.
Hold strong brothers

I’m a layman when it comes to the world of Wall Street, but my current disposition from the outside looking in includes several criticisms. I know there are plenty more knowledgeable people on the subject around so here are my points of contention:

1. Reliability of success - How is the stock market any different than a casino? Sure, you can arguably make as educated of a guess as possible based on all sorts of information, but at the end of the day a share’s value is constantly at the mercy of any unforeseen event that could decimate that value at any moment. We’ve all heard the story of the literal monkey that created a portfolio that outperformed actual ‘experts’ in the field.
2. Shareholders have a negative influence on the actions of a company - while investors provide the financial means of expansion and innovation that looks great on paper, I believe they more often than not become a pervasive influence on the direction and accountability many companies hold themselves to. Catering to investors over the benefit of the consumeend user is a scale tipped completely in the wrong direction. It encourages companies to feign success and assure infinite growth in the interest of securing immediate unearned funding.
3. The consequences of trading are not limited to those taking the risk - A business can be the livelihood of thousands of real working people with families to feed and provide for. What happens when that business leans too heavily on it’s value on the charts? Does this not place the outlook of an entire workforce and their loved ones in the hands of a group of traders whose commitment only exists if there’s a buck to be made?

For these reasons, I view the entire stock market operation as a glorified casino for those with more time and money than sense. A slot machine that potentially puts people’s jobs at risk making the act of frivolous trading arguably unethical in some cases. I realize that an argument can be made for the contrasting positive side to some of the points I’ve mentioned (e.g. The stock market can enable a business to prosper and support families just as well as they could hurt them) but ultimately my view is that the stock market and its effects are more negative than positive.

Hi, everybody. My name is Sid, and I’m an addict.
It took me a long time to accept that. But when you take a job in a casino just so that you can be there all the time and try to gain an edge, you’re an addict. It’s obvious even to me. More so to my family and friends, who I barely see anymore.
It’s not pills or coke, booze or heroin that I’m hooked on. I’m addicted to gambling.
The casino that made me so obsessed is not an ordinary one, though. It’s far from ordinary.
You don’t play for money at Fantasy Casino. You play for your dreams.
I hear you laughing.
But have you ever had a really, really great dream? One that got so good you snapped awake the second it started to get really excellent?
Well, imagine that times a thousand. Times a million.
A dream so real and so perfect that all of your fantasies become reality. Time stretches out. You feel like you are there forever. A lifetime passes before your return.
Infinite wealth, the ability to fly like superman, you’re surrounded by sex and beautiful people all day as you relax in a palace built to your mind’s most exacting specifications of perfection.
But then you wake up, and in an instant it is gone.
The power, the wealth, the endless sex and supernatural powers.
Everything is suddenly NORMAL again.
And so you go back to the casino.
I went back to the casino.
But the problem with gambling is that you don’t always win. And when you lose, suddenly the winnings are gone as well, vanished without a trace. All I knew was that I had to have that feeling again.
So I went inside the giant building and then followed the secret signs which led to a door that led to a staircase going downwards.
I went down the stairs and knocked on the door marked “Private” and waited for an answer.
“Password.”
The voice on the other side of the black door waited for my response.
“Seramth Gin.” I said the unnatural words carefully and deliberately, still not knowing their meaning.
A friend had told me the password, a fellow gambler who I would later find dead in his apartment. His corpse white, bloated, and maggot-infested.
His eyes were black and filled with blood which streamed from his eye sockets like tears. He had bit his tongue clean off and his fingernails were found lodged in various surfaces throughout his apartment. Like he had been trying to claw his way out of a steel box that only he could see.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. That was later. At this point I was still hopeful for another wonderful dream. Still thankful for his advice to seek out the place.
The door opened and I walked inside. It was the same as it had been the day before, only less busy at this time – still early afternoon.
I approached the table I had been sitting at the night before.
Poker – Texas Hold ‘em: Ten dream limit – the sign read.
The rules were simple. You got a stack of chips. If you doubled them, you received a dream. If you lost them, you lost a dream.
I wasn’t concerned about losing dreams yet, I still didn’t understand exactly what that meant.
When I lost my first stack of chips, I quickly bought in again. And again. And again.
Pretty soon I realized I had lost eight dreams with no winnings whatsoever. I was in a slump. A losing streak.
I decided to go home and count my losses. Literally, since I had no idea what that even meant.
As I got up to leave the table, the dealer looked at me. His eyes were remorseless and cold.
“See the cashier on your way out,” he said, handing me eight black chips.
I gulped and walked over to the glass window where the cashier sat waiting. Handing him the eight chips, he raised his eyebrows and clicked his tongue.
“That’s a shame. Hold out your hand please.”
Two men in black suits came up behind me suddenly and stood on either side of me, intimidating in their stature and demeanour.
I did as he asked and held out my hand with the palm facing up.
The cashier pulled out a strange-looking device from beneath the counter. It had a vial of vermillion-coloured liquid at the top that was attached to the rest of it which resembled a gun with a hypodermic needle at the end.
I screamed and tried to pull away, but the two men grabbed me and held my arm through the window. Thrashing and elbowing them, I tried to get away but it was useless.
The cashier injected the stuff into my veins quickly and it felt cold and slimy going through my system. I could feel it suddenly in my heart, turning it cold and then up into my mind and my lungs and all extremities causing me to shake and violently seize. I writhed on the floor, blood pouring from my ears and my eyes.
Finally the feeling settled down into a numbness that prickled the insides of my blood vessels. It wasn’t until later, once I realized what the casino really was, that I found out what they had done.
I went home with the certainty that they had injected me with something. If winning had resulted in the greatest dream I had ever had – essentially an almost never-ending fantasy – what would happen after a loss?
Nightmares. That was what it would be. I was sure of it.
I settled into bed that night and closed my eyes, drifting off to sleep quickly after such an emotionally exhausting afternoon.
As soon as my eyes closed, they opened again and it was morning.
It felt as if I had not slept at all. My mind was fuzzy and it was difficult to focus. My eyes wanted to close again but my alarm was telling me that it was time to get up for work, so I hit the “dismiss” button and hopped in the shower.
I threw on my clothes and went out the door. At work I noticed a few people looking at me strangely, but I didn’t realize until someone pointed it out to me that my shirt was on inside-out. At this point I was still working in an office doing commodities trading and such lapses were frowned upon.
If you couldn’t focus enough to put your shirt on properly in the morning, how could you focus enough to get the work done in such a demanding environment? Millions of dollars changing hands with each transaction meant that such trivial things were put under a magnifying glass and coupled with other subsequent mistakes each following day after that, I found myself in the boss’s office by the end of the week being handed my walking papers.
Desperate for rest after days of not feeling any benefit from sleep, I went back to the casino.
They knew just by looking at me how to dig their claws in further. After a couple hours I had managed to win myself a dream.
They handed me the complimentary cocktail as they had the time before. I hadn’t realized the significance of it and still didn’t, despite the unusual vermillion colour of the drink. I swallowed it in one gulp and went out the door practically dancing and clicking my heels, ready to go home and feel rested again.
My dream that night was wonderful. Everything I had hoped for in many ways.
But not as good as the first time. I wanted that feeling back again.
Knowing that it was a dream the whole time and realizing that it was going to end seemed to shorten the fantasy, made it seem hollow and manufactured.
If I could win again maybe it would be like that first time, I thought.
The casino drew me in again and again. I found myself a zombie most days, exhausted, at my wit’s end. Ready to call it quits for good and say goodbye.
But then I would win again and it would all seem to be alright for a while.
My debt kept growing and growing with nearly every trip. The hypodermic needle would be plunged into my skin and every time they had to hold me down. Every time I would feel a little more empty. A little more hollow.
Waking up every day began to feel the same. Nothing had definition or purpose.
“You’re here all the time,” one of the goons whispered to me as they shot the needle into my vein the time after that. “Haven’t you figured it out yet? You should just get a job here and then at least you’ll be in on the secret.”
I applied the next day and got an interview with the boss. I would find out later that if you got someone to apply there you got a one dream bonus.
In his office, the well-dressed man was sitting behind a massive polished ebony desk. The room was adorned with paintings, sculptures, and other high-priced artwork. He had photos everywhere of himself shaking hands with world leaders, new and old, for hundreds of years.
His face never changed. Never aged.
“So, you want to work with us? Tired of dreamless nights without end? You want to have some relief, is that it?”
“Yes. Please. Anything. I’ve been coming here for so long and it’s an endless cycle. I want back what I’ve lost but I keep finding myself more and more in debt with each visit.”
“Ah, so do you understand it now, then? What the ‘injections’ are?”
It finally dawned on me, sitting there. Not injections at all. They weren’t putting something in us. They were taking something out. The vermillion-coloured liquid in the vials – our dreams.
“If I take a job with you, will the same rules apply? Will they still take my sleep, my rest, every time I lose?”
“Yes. We can’t have the employees living by different rules than everyone else. But we will give you an alternative injection, so that you feel well-rested when you come in for your shift.”
“I’ll do it. I need to rest. I need to get some meaningful sleep. My life has been miserable ever since coming here.”
“Well, I can’t promise that this will help,” he said, getting up from his desk with a hypodermic gun in his hand. The vial of fluid sitting atop this one was jet-black and looked evil and poisonous. He rolled up his sleeves as he primed it and I watched a few beads of it drip oil-like out of the tip of the needle.
“What the hell is that!? I don’t want that stuff in me!”
“But you need to sleep, my dear worker. I can’t have you passing out at the blackjack table like a narcoleptic! You agreed to this, after all. You wanted to rest, and the only way for that to happen is for you to have SOME sort of dream. Not everyone is as lucky as you, you know. To have that wonderful vermillion fluid in your veins. Some people come to us begging to take it from them. Some of our employees for example, the ones who do the recruitment for us, are full of this black stuff.”
“What?” I had gotten up from the chair and was backing away from him towards the door. But I found it was locked as he approached.
“First you have to tell me the password, Sid.”
“Seramth Gin.” I said the words that I had said every time to gain access to the casino, only this time I pictured the letters and rearranged them in my mind.
“Nightmares.”
He smiled as he injected me with the vial of black hate, and it went into my veins feeling hot and unpleasant. I began to sweat and the beads of it turned cold on my skin as I shivered.
I’ll sleep tonight. I might even wake up feeling rested. But as long as I live and work at that casino, I’ll be afraid to dream again. Because now my unconscious hours are occupied by the most terrifying experiences imaginable. Nightmares beyond imagining in their awfulness. That is my fate.
Unless… Just maybe, I can win one more time.
JG
TCC

I am in California. My aunt recently told me about her losing $605 at the casino. She had a TITO for $605.11. Seh said she changed her mind about the machine so she pressed the cash out button but did not realize that the ticket printed was only 11 cents rather than the $605.11 she put in. When she later went to go cash her ticket out at the redemption machine, she only then realized that she was shorted.
Now before we continue, I totally understand that the responsibility belongs to the owner of the money to keep track of it and make sure that they are receiving the correct amount. Please don't make this a thread where all the blame is completely on the person who lost the money. She understands that she needed to take responsibility for making sure her ticket was accurate when printed.
She went to talk to casino management/security and they were able to determine that she did in fact insert the single ticket for $605.11 and that the machine only printed out a ticket for $0.11. They mentioned that since it was a $1 machine, the non-whole dollar amount of money would be printed back first. What I am guessing happened was that before she pressed the Cash Out button, the machine already printed out the $0.11 that she didn't notice then when she pressed it, she thought the ticket printed out already as I am guessing the Cash Out button will not work if there is a ticket actively in the dispenser.
Casino management said that they were able to identify the individual as he is a regular player. The player did not return the money to lost and found and ended up cashing it out.
The casino said that the next time this individual visits the casino, they will approach him in an attempt to get the money back, which I think is fair; however, I talked about this to my friend who goes to the casino way more than me and, based on his experience, he argued this to me:
On a technical level, that money was stolen from the customer. The money did not belong to him and because he did not turn it in, it should be considered stolen. He said that the casino should make it right and reimburse my aunt. In addition, because of the way that particular machine redeemed tickets, it was probably not apparent that it will spit back out loose change. I've personally observed this happen before but it's inconsistent regardless of denomination. Some machines will maintain the balance in the machine's computer or it will spit out the loose change before continuing (with the former being the more common occurrence).
My aunt says that she's chalking it up to a loss and is merely hopeful that the person will return the money; however, it seems like the casino will not take any action past asking for a return.
Do you think that the casino should, at the very least, make accommodations to my aunt for this error? Do you think that the casino should take more action should the man refuse to return the money?

t

Fellow DMs,
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I'm running a campaign and the players are coming up on a city. Throughout their adventures in the wilderness, I think I've given them too much gold as loot/rewards and would love to take some out of their pockets. Coupled with some jokes from party members about looking for a casino, I figured I throw one in the city and hope they sink some gold playing gambling games.
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Any DMs run casino games in their campaign? Any ideas? The campaign is an online campaign, so that limits some of the traditional casino games because I can't deal cards or use a board or something. At the moment, all I've got is using a d20 die for a roulette wheel.

I have been struggling on and off with gambling for 15 years and the amount of advertisements for gambling today compared to 5-10-15 years ago is astounding.
Consider the restrictions on cigarettes, and marijuana as well for example (Canada)...I have never seen an advertisement for either of those but I see on average 5x a day gambling being promoted somehow (facebook, tv ads, podcasts etc.)
What if we replaced gambling with cocaine advertisements? Lol yeah obviously not gonna fly, but the effect on the brain between the two is very very similar.
The accessibility to gambling has exploded as well, with online sportsbooks and casinos just a few clicks away at any hour of the day or night. So many people have wasted not only all of their money, but some their lives and the well being of their families as well. All for what?
Like what is the endgame with gambling? How much money do you need to stop gambling?
Its a trick question, because any degenerate gambler such as myself knows it isn’t about the money at all. I could win 10k and still piss it all away in an hour easy...It is all about the feeling, the rush...but inevitably it will always end in despair. Ive had wins but ultimately I always went back like most do.
Im from Ontario as well and this lockdown is making it even harder to stay away from online gambling right now...
Would love to hear what everyone else thinks and if there is anything we can do

I’m thinking a small table at The Wayward and a really nice extravagant set of tables at The Whitesprings. Offer all of the classic card games as well as Caravan from New Vegas.