#prepper tech

[newspatron]

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[mostlysignssomeportents]

Naomi Alderman’s ‘The Future’

Naomi Alderman burst onto the scene in 2016 with The Power, an explosive and brilliant feminist apocalyptic parable. Now, seven years later, she's back with a chunky, propulsive second novel about a very different sort of apocalypse: The Future:

https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/The-Future/Naomi-Alderman/9781668025680

The Power was a thriller about a mysterious force that gives women the power to administer violent electric shocks – even lethal ones – from the palms of their hands. As this power races around the world, the status quo is abruptly shattered. Abusers get nasty surprises. The Saudi government topples. Parents of teenaged boys demand sex-segregated classes to protect their sons from vicious girls:

https://memex.craphound.com/2017/10/10/naomi-aldermans-the-power-in-which-fierce-power-of-women-is-awoken/

In The Future, we get a very different kind of apocalypse: the imagined apocalypse of the prepper. At the core of prepperism is a fantasy: that the world will experience a cataclysm that requires the special skills and supplies of the prepper themselves. Water chemists who turn prepper fantasize about attacks on the water-supply – not because there's any special reason to expect one, but because if terrorists attack the water supply, then water chemists become civilization-rescuing heroes:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/03/22/preppers-are-larpers/#preppers-unprepared

(And of course, if the world ends in such a way that marauding bandits rove the wasteland, eating their former neighbors, then macho, AR-15-obsessed musketfuckers get to reinvent themselves as warlords who defend the sheeple from "bad guys.")

This is what makes billionaire prepper fantasies just so weird – for most of us, it's hard to imagine how the skills of a billionaire are the one thing we'll need to see us through a crisis. But for billionaires themselves, the necessity of billionaires in rebooting civilization is so self-evident as to be unquestionable.

What's more, billionaires are convinced – more than any of us – that the world is about to end. As Douglas @Rushkoff puts it, these guys want to earn enough money to outrun the consequences of how they're making all that money. This is #TheMindset, the idea that your own position has jeopardized civilization itself, but that also, you must survive the cataclysm, because only you can survive it.

Rushkoff chronicles the real-world fantasies of luxury bunkers patrolled by mercenaries locked into explosive discipline collars in his book Survival of the Richest:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/09/13/collapse-porn/#collapse-porn

But billionaires don't just suck at running civilization, they also suck at making up stories about its collapse. One thing that's striking about Rushkoff's ethnography of rich people preparing to outlive the end of the human race is how banal their eschatological fantasies are.

It's not that there aren't any exciting stories to tell about billionaire survival fantasies. The granddaddy of these is, of course, Edgar Allan Poe's 1842 "#MasqueOfTheRedDeath":

https://www.poemuseum.org/the-masque-of-the-red-death

I published an updated version with the same title in 2019 in my novella collection #Radicalized:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/03/14/masque-of-the-red-death/#masque

In The Future, we get a cracking, multi-point-of-view adventure novel about billionaires prepping for the end of the world. Three billionaires, the lords of thinly veiled analogs to Facebook, Google and Amazon, each getting ready in their own way. Stumbling into their midst comes Lai Zhen, a prepper influencer vlogger with millions of followers.

When Zhen becomes romantically entangled with Martha Einkorn, the top aide and chief-of-prepping for one of these billionaires, she finds herself in possession of an AI chatbot that is devoted to protecting a very small number of people from incipient danger. This chatbot determines that Zhen is being stalked by an assassin at a mall in Singapore, and guides her to safety.

The chatbot is a closely held secret among the tech billionaire cabal. It is designed to monitor world events and predict when The Event is imminent, be it disease, war, or other cataclysmic disaster. With the chatbot's predictive powers and its superhuman guidance, the billionaires, their families, and their closest confidantes will be able to slip away before the shit hits the fan, fly by different private jets to one or another luxury bunker, and wait out the apocalypse. Once the fires raging without have died down to embers, the chatbot's billionaire charges will emerge to assume their places as wise and all-powerful leaders of the next human civilization.

As you might imagine, not everyone who finds out about this plan – including various members of the billionaires' families who are fully aware of these rich, powerful people's fallibility – is enthusiastic about it. As we build toward a looming crisis, we cycle between these family members, Zhen and her hacker buddies, and members of an online prepper community where Einkorn is a kind of provocateuse and eminence grise.

Alderman skillfully maneuvers all these power players and blocs into position before detonating the crisis that sets off the book's second act, where we get into some damned fine Masque of the Red Death territory, but clad in Tony Stark mecha survival suits and against a backdrop of total disaster.

I won't give away any spoilers here, except to say that there are lots of twists (that won't surprise readers of The Power, which had its own excellent surprises). But without delving too deeply into the fake-outs, crosses, and turns that Alderman lays, I will say that this is a fantastic and incredibly satisfying comeuppance novel that gets very deep into the ideology of wishing the world would end, and dreaming that when it does, you will finally matter.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/07/preppers-of-the-red-death/#the-event

[popcornpoppypop]

We'll Table That

Summary: Callie tries to get her hand stitched without knowing. It does not go well.

Warnings: Blood, medical inaccuracies, shouting?, talks of pregnancy

A/N: Let me know what you think. I can't stop putting this poor character through physical injury, I have a thing for grumpy men taking care of their partners.

“Oh he’ll have my head if I don’t tell him you’re here.” Dr. McKay chuckled, crossing her arms and shaking her head.

“Yeah, no, I know. Just thought it was worth a try.” Callie shrugged. Her hand was wrapped in a pile of gauze that was starting to turn red.

“I may have texted him anyway.” Liz, Callie’s best friend and only reason to keep going back to work, winced from her seat next to the exam chair.

“Lizzy!” Callie scolded.

“Oh please, if the roles were reversed you’d be furious if he didn’t tell you.”

“I just don’t like him fussing. Taking time from patients that deserve his care.” Callie fiddled with the gauze.

“Yeah, well, you deserve his care too. Let him.” McKay gave a kind smile. Before Callie could say anything, the curtain was ripped open to reveal a seething Jack Abbot.

“What the hell happened?” He barked.

“What if I was naked!? You just exposed me to all of your colleagues!”

“Why would you be naked if you hurt your hand?” He grumbled.

“I don’t know. I feel like every time I come in here ya’ll are ripping the clothes off every patient.” Callie shrugged.

“I’ll let you handle this Dr. Abbot.” Mckay made her exit, tugging the curtain closed.

“So?” Jack crossed his arms.

“I caught my hand on a scalpel during surgery.” Callie sighed.

“Callie.” Liz pointed.

“Lizzy.” Callie glared at her.

“Hey! Doctor mode now, okay? I need to know what happened so I can treat you. You complain all the time when clients give you half-truths about their pets, so out with it.” His voice stern in a way Callie wasn’t used to. The voice he used with med students..

“I fell, my hand landed on the instrument tray-”

“She fainted and her hand slammed into the tray and the scalpel sliced her hand open.” Liz crossed her arms. Callie rolled her eyes.

“You fainted? As in lost consciousness?” Jack’s voice though still calm and in ‘doctor mode’ was tight as the worry built up in his chest.

“Only for like thirty seconds.” Callie looked at the floor.

“I had some smelling salts in my emergency kit, they brought her back.” Liz noted.

“It was just my blood sugar. You know I have trouble remembering to eat.”

“That’s why I pack you lunch! All the snacks you could need!” Jack threw his hands in the air.

“I get busy!” Callie shouted.

“Right. Let me look at the hand.” Jack pulled the overhead light down and rolled his stool closer. He unwrapped Callie’s hand, revealing a deep laceration across her palm. “I cleaned it with some chlorohexidine diluted and wrapped it as best she would let me.” Liz said, trying to get an A plus from her friends boyfriend.

“Chill Liz, you’re a lesbian remember?” Callie chuckled.

“Shut up.” Liz shoved her. Liz and Jack started off enemies at first. Liz was protective of Callie, having been her friend for years and seeing the hell she had been through. She was never happy to meet a new boyfriend, they were just pain waiting to happen. But when Jack proved to be a good man, they became thick as thieves. Liz would never call herself a ‘prepper’ but she kind of was. Jack was too. They taught each other about new tech and tools and bored Callie to death with it all. She thought it was too depressing.

“Someone has to pay attention to this stuff if you’re going to keep getting into trouble.” Jack sighed.

“That’s what you two are for.” Callie smirked. Jack and Liz rolled their eyes.

“You need stitches.”

“No shit.”

“You need stitches and bloodwork.” Jack pointed as he stood up.

“What!? No way!”

“Yes way! You fainted!”

“I hadn’t eaten! I just need juice and you know it!”

“I don’t know it that’s what the bloodwork is for!” Jack shouted. Callie was about to yell back when the curtain was pulled open by Robby.

“Hey! Some people think it’s rude to shout in hospitals, something about sick people trying to sleep or something.” He said.

“Sorry.” Callie looked like a scolded child.

“She needs stitches and bloodwork.” Jack stated.

“I don’t need bloodwork.”

“Jesus Christ, Callie! It’s what I’d do for anyone else that fainted!” Jack growled.

“Alright! Stop shouting.” He pointed to Jack before turning to Callie. “You fainted?” Callie nodded her head.

“I saw it.” Liz added.

“He’s right. Anyone who faints gets a work up, even if it’s just a low blood sugar from not eating. Your iron could be low, lots of things could cause you to faint. You’re getting the bloodwork.” Robby stated crossing his arms.

“Fine. But I’m not happy about it.” Callie growled.

“Didn’t say you had to be.” Robby smiled.

“I’ll do it.” Jack said.

“No! That is ridiculous! Let the nurses do their job.” Callie pointed her finger at him.

“I’ll have Dana do it. That work for everyone?” Robby sighed. Heads nodded and he left. Jack came walking up behind him.

“Brother, if you put one of the med students on her stitches I’m going to start throwing things.” Jack growled.

“Calm the hell down.” Robby snapped. “You act like a crazy person when she’s here. I have half a mind to tell her to go anywhere else!”

“That’s not fair-”

“Jack, you can’t act like this here. It’s not okay for the students to see, for the nurses to deal with. She is a grown woman and is allowed to make her own decisions with her care. You need to respect that. If you can’t, you will no longer be her doctor. I don’t pull rank often because it’s stupid, but I will if need be.” Robby sighed. Jack stared at him for a long moment, digesting his words.

“You’re right. I know. I just…the anxiety turns me into something else. I’ll back off. She’s so damn stubborn.” Jack sighed leaning against the nurses station desk.

“Don’t like a taste of your own medicine?” Dana quipped.

“Will you go pull blood on Callie please? Get me 2-0 monocryl to sew her up. 2ml of lidocaine.” Robby asked.

“Only because it’s Callie and I want to see her.” Dana gave Jack’s arm a soft punch.

“Are you two like this at home?” Robby questioned.

“God no. No, we never argue.” Jack shook his head. “She’s only like this here. She doesn’t like people taking care of her because she feels like she doesn’t deserve it and the people who take care of her will resent her.” Jack nodded.

“That’s deep.”

“The therapist said it at our last session.”

“You two are in couples therapy?” Robby looked at him bewildered.

“Hell yeah. We’ve got a lot of fucking baggage man. It keeps us honest with each other, ourselves. Makes communication easier.”

“Good to know.” Robby nodded as he headed back to Callie’s room.

“And when Whittaker slipped in the blood, the tray of juice went with him. Poor kid was covered front and back!” Dana laughed as she bandaged Callie’s arm.

“That poor kid! He can’t catch a break!” Callie chuckled.

“We wouldn’t be gossiping about our coworkers to patients now, would we?” Robby chided.

“Oh don’t be such a party pooper. I’m going to get this running. I’ll swing by with some cranberry juice in a bit.” Dana winked and ran off.

“Alright, let’s get you sewed up.” Robby groaned as he sat down, pulling his glasses on.

“How many do you think?” Callie asked.

“Oh not too many. Probably five or so.” Robby smiled. “This will burn.” He stated before injecting the lidocaine into Callie’s hand. She hissed as the medicine scorched her skin.

“Damn!”

“Yeah, now you know what your patients feel.” Robby chuckled as he started sewing.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with him. He’s such a grouch when I’m here. I told McKay to keep it to herself.”

“Oh that would have gone over like a lead balloon, I don’t blame her.”

“I know he means well. I know it’s because of his wife, he’ll never not blame himself for losing her. I just can’t deal with the overprotective stuff sometimes. It’s too close to the possessive behaviors my ex had.”

“I didn’t know you had a bad ex.” Robby looked over his glasses at her.

“Bad doesn’t begin to cover that fucker.” Liz sneered.

“He wasn’t a great guy to be around.” Callie sighed.

“He beat the shit out of you.” Liz bit.

“Oh shit. I’m sorry. Does Jack know?” Robby asked.

“Yeah. We talk about it in therapy. But old habits die hard, especially when it comes to survival. Both our issues come from survival.” Robby nodded.

“All stitched up. Those will need to get removed in about two weeks. They will itch, do not itch them.” Robby warned as he left. 

Jack was typing up his charts, trying in vain to not think about the bloodwork. His mind always went back to the worst case scenario.

“She’s all stitched up. Once we have her bloodwork she can head home. You can too. They have enough staff for the night.” Robby leaned across the desk.

“Yeah, maybe.” Jack huffed.

“You can go sit with her if you want.”

“I’m giving her space.”

“She is never allowed in here if this is how you act.” Dana snorted.

“I don’t like that I can’t prevent her from getting hurt and it makes me upset when I see it. Sue me.” Jack spit back.

“Easy big guy, I know how hard it is. You need to lighten up, it’s bad for you scrunching up all grumpy all the time.” She smiled.

“Dr. Robby, is Callie your patient or…?” McKay came up with a piece of paper in hand. Jack glared at him, Robby laughed.

“Yeah, she’s mine now.”

“Right. Her bloodwork just came in.” She gave Jack a smile and walked off patting him on the back.

“The hell was that?” He asked.

“Oh you’ll see.” Robby chuckled. “Let’s go, I’m not going over this twice.” He said as he headed for Callie.

“Hey, that was fast.” Callie smiled.

“It’s like pizza, thirty minutes or it’s free on bloodwork on Wednesdays.” Robby smiled. “Liz will you give us a minute? Protocol when going over lab work.” Robby asked. Liz nodded and left.

“Should I be worried?” Callie sat up straighter, looking up to Jack. He took a seat next to her, taking her hand in his.

“No. Your blood sugar was low, nothing too crazy. You will need to be more aware of it moving forward.”

“I told you.” Callie laughed.

“But, the bloodwork also showed an elevation in your human chorionic gonadotropin or hCG levels.” Robby tried to stop the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“What?” Jack looked like he had seen a ghost.

“I work with dogs and cats Robby, what the fuck is that? Is it bad?” Callie asked getting worried.

“You’re pregnant.” Jack said.

“Yes. The hCG is the hormone produced by the fetus, it’s how we confirm the urine pregnancy tests. Looking at these levels I’d say around eight weeks or so. They can confirm how far along with ultrasound measurements.” Robby smiled.

“Holy shit.” Callie said.

“I’m going to grab some resources for you, let you two talk. When you’re ready come grab me and we can set up an appointment upstairs for whatever you need.” He gave Callie a pat on the shoulder as he left.

“Holy shit.” Callie repeated.

“Yeah.” Jack grunted.

“Jack?”

“Huh?”

“I’m pregnant.”

“Yeah, you are.” Jack felt his hands shaking.

“Jack?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want this?” Callie sniffled, the sound of her crying snapped Jack out of his daze.

“Honey, I love you more than life itself. I would love nothing more than to have a baby with you. My feelings aren’t important here though. This is your decision.” He grabbed her hand with both of his.

“I love you. I’m so fucking scared.” Callie looked away.

“I don’t think any good parent isn’t scared shitless.”

“Good point.” “It happens more than you realize.” He smirked, she laughed. Her laughter soothed something that had been biting at his chest.

“Are we really doing this?”

“That’s your call.”

“You idiot. It’s a team effort.”

“We have a strong team. One more member would only make us better I think.” Jack shrugged.

“Let’s do this. Can’t be worse than my mother.” Callie shrugged.

“Yeah?” Jack sat up straighter in his seat.

“Yeah, let’s have a baby.” Callie chuckled through her tears. Jack pulled her into a passionate kiss before jumping up, suddenly filled with adrenaline.

“WE’RE HAVING A BABY!!” He shouted, the whole ER stopped and turned toward the yelling.

“They can definitely hear you.” Callie laughed.

“I don’t know, I think they might have missed it,” Jack pulled the curtains back and “SHE’S HAVING MY BABY!!” which was met with a round of applause from the staff and confused but amused patients.

“You are never going back to work.” Jack stated out of breath.

“Don’t ruin it.” Callie laughed.

“We’ll table that.” Jack ran up to the desk grabbing his water bottle and keys. “Boss, I’m taking my lady home. I’ll be back on Saturday.” Jack nodded to Robby.

“Congrats, brother. You two may be the only ones that absolutely should have kids.” He smiled. Jack gave him a quick hug, slapping him on the back harder than usual and ran off.

“It’s cute when he’s all excited. He looks like a puppy.” Dana smiled.

“He is going to drive that woman crazy now.” Robby shook is head laughing.

“Oh yeah.”

[beespaceprogram]

I've been keeping the drawing muscles warm with a lot of rough sketches, and for some reason I've returned to some of my super old characters. I think I started drawing this yellow demon lady and her giant, monstrous, gentle bf around when I first started posting smut online. So long ago that her first few pictures were drawn in PS. Here's a height chart/lineup I did of Yellow, her bf, and sweater demon, who I've been drawing fucking a bunch on platforms that are cooler about porn (don't worry, he's flacid in these pics so it's non-sexual nudity).

I was thinking about them, and the vague setting I had in mind for them, and I realised that basically all my demon characters fit in it.

In the setting, demon world is full of all sorts of different shapes and sizes of demon, with the biggest ruling through might and power, subjugating lesser demons in a chaotic power-struggle. Smaller, weaker, and generally more sapient demons grew tired of this and invented Society. Defending the society from big demon onslaught is a common dayjob.

It was partly inspired by this sorta attitude I've seen sometimes; people that fancy themselves powerful holding the philosophy that the strong should rule. You know the type, like the prepper who mostly preps guns rather than like, learning fibrecraft. It struck me that their desire is essentially true; the 'strong' do rule, except that the strength of a community or institution outclasses the kind of individual power ppl idolise. This is by no means a ringing endorsement of all kinds of social and institutional power, but it for sure is dunking on individual power.

Anyway, Yellow's bf is the kind of middling-sized beast that would normally be outside the walls of the Society trying to carve out his own territory/harem, or serving a more powerful demon, or attacking the society, but due to a quirk in his background he's actually a gentle soul who joined the society and now works shifts in the defence crew, where his great strength is a rare asset. In his spare time he tends to his greenhouse. Yellow is a succubus who quit her job as a state-subsidised sexworker after she fell for him, and now she's somewhat of a domestic partner/sugar bb.

As for some other demon chars, Sweater Demon works as a reseracher into tentacle domestication. PDA demon is in govt. buruearcracy. I feel like ipod demon does radio, I imagine her with one of those soothing late-night radio voices. I dunno about Tama, maybe she does something related to tech, or maybe she does some more mundane job like delivery or retail or something. I've probably drawn other demon chars I've forgotten about

[wat3rm370n]

Radios are a good thing to have. Devices that require cell service are cell phones and are not the same as radios.

I keep seeing commercials for "rapid radios" where they are trying to pitch these "walkie talkie" type devices as radios that can reach across the country. This is misleading nonsense. They are a real product, and they will allow communication across long distances, under the right circumstances, but these are not radios, and the advertising is misleading.

They're essentially cell phones because they require cell towers and LTE service to be working and within range. Back in the early days of cell phones, I knew people with cell phones that provided a type of walkie-talkie service you could use between paired phones on the same plan. I'm sure there are people still using this on cell phones. But it's merely similar to how you use a walkie talkie, the signal itself is sent via the cell phone service.

So that means these devices are not like radios that can work when cell towers are non-functional or not in range. They are NOT independent of a mobile phone network.

Some ads claim there are "no monthly fees" which makes it sound like they're radios that are independently operating like an amateur radio or walkie talkie, where you need no subscription or plan. That's tricky though because they do have an annual fee for service - through their cellular carrier! They will not work without this service.

FRS radio, used via walkie talkies, will work independently of any subscription. You don't need a license to broadcast (talk over it), and if you buy a reputable legal set, even something cheap, they are fixed so that you can't access or transmit in a way that you wouldn't be allowed. Many of us played with these as kids, and some of the children's toy types work just fine, but there are better quality ones that will have a better audio signal and maybe a slightly bigger but still short range. CB radio is similar but the equipment is different and operates at different frequencies.

GMRS radios also have a limited range but are more powerful than FRS. You can have a base station and hook up antennas, but there are also handheld GMRS that work like walkie talkies too, and can communicate with radios on the FRS channels, and also more GMRS frequencies. You need a license to broadcast on GMRS, but it's relatively cheap and you only need one license per household to cover a whole family using different radios. There are rules by the FCC for example using your assigned call sign at 15 minute intervals or at the end of any conversation. There are also rules about using repeaters that allow people to broadcast or hear radio from greater distances. (I hear people 40 miles away on GMRS, using a repeater.)

Some GMRS radios come with a built-in weather radio and even FM radio too. Some can be programmed (on the device or connected to a computer app) to listen in on various frequencies such as emergency service channels like the fire department, just like "police scanners". These too if sold from a reputable source, and compliant with rules, will not allow you to accidentally broadcast on some officially designated channel or a HAM channel and get into trouble. HAM radio licensing no longer requires you pass a morse code test but it does still have tests on radio operations and equipment, and unless you pass these tests and get licensed you can't operate HAM.

CB, FRS, GMRS, and HAM are not cell phones and they are not private. Though texting is an option, encryption is not allowed by the U.S. FCC for these amateur radio bands.

Then there's also LoRa radio which is being used by people now for short-range low-power texting communication that doesn't require cell service. This is an unlicensed frequency that's used for a number of things. There is an open source tech called Meshtastic that's popular.

All of these things are totally different thing than these "radios" being marketed supposedly for "preppers" who want a way to communicate long distance or in a disaster. If you want to communicate when cell phone service is interrupted or not available nearby, these "long distance walkie talkies" are not the solution.

If you want to be able to communicate long distance without cell service, a satellite phone can do that, because they use satellites in orbit. But these also obviously require a service, because they work by satellites that are in orbit being operated by some company. And the service is pretty expensive.

Read up a little on how radios work, and then get the actual radios, from a reputable source, and get the right license if need be, and follow the rules.

And honestly I don't recommend impulse buying anything you see in an ad without looking into it further.

[a-cat-in-toffee]

apocalypse :3 traditional zombie outbreak :3

the pd traveling together, having all lost shit they're looking form ashe is looking for mark, vyncent is looking for his mom, dakota is looking fkr a lot of people (tide, alaska, msybe kat??), and william's lookign for the fucking CURE

William was kind of a prepper and so had weapons + supplies + ect but boy is weak af and accidentally got bit. they use a half baked bell tech "cure" in order to keep it at bay but he still has urges and the chance to bite someone. more or less slows down the rotting tho!

vyncent lived on the outskirts of civilization before the outbreak :3 he's pretty mistrusting of! most people! reasonably so! first meeting between vyncent and william+dakota did Not go well

ashe is. weirdly enough chilling? when she runs into pd she's living pretty decently all things considered. lonely and looking for her dad tho

[rotationalsymmetry]

Watching Season 3 of Leverage Redemption. Episode 1 felt kinda off, but episode 2 was perfect. We had ordinary people running into problems that were just a bit more than they could deal with, we had asshole villains (back to Leverage roots with a corrupt judge!), we had Shenanigans -- and it was also very modern and topical, with AI and gun violence and 3 D printing and tech startups and militias/disaster preppers...and a pretty solid attempt at discussing white privilege with a huge focus on Breanna who is such an awesome character (and they needed someone young, with Elliot and Parker and Hardison not being that young any more.) And actual law stuff, great use of the lawyer being a lawyer. Real good stuff.

Tim being very sympathetic was a really nice counterpoint to the whole "ugh what is with covnentionally attractive white guys getting everything handed to them on a silver platter, it's just not fair" and again I think Breanna was also presented very sympathetically here and you never see a black person being mad as hell about white privilege being presented sympathetically, you know?

[sootyships]

Prominence and Starspot, the OGs. Prominence is a MegaStar kid from early on in the war when things were better. They like dancing and blending into the wallpaper. Starspot is a Rodimus/Sunstorm kid, the smallest, most eye-searing Barricade smoocher on Earth.

Yes, really. Commission by @/suuvesi Man why is Barricade canonically so oversized

Fireworks and Fulgur, Scavenger siblings. Fireworks is the scrappiest former K-Con (now a pteranodon???), Fulgur is a tiny arrow-ace jet who likes puzzles :3

Siblings Feral, Nyn & Nuhur (Feral's pic from the sims, Nuhur from SWTOR) They're force sensitive Mandalorians, all with very different relationships with their force sensitivity.

Cuyan, Sankhu & Kadan (Sankhu's pic from HF, Kadan from SWTOR)

Cuyan is Feral, Nyn and Nuhur's older brother, eventually a bounty hunter. Sankhu is a slicer and Cuyan's boo. Kadan is a Rebel Alliance/New Republic-aligned Mandalorian who prefers to keep his helmet on.

Kelly & Grace, sometimes known as Cybertronians called Calamity and Gridlock, respectively. Sometimes Calamity is a robot or a merperson.

I'm in danger.

Kieran, robot!Calamity's adoptive human brother: Cascadia's coolest tech nut, "vidstream mom", instagram model and old Lambo owner

The Zombie Apocalypse Trio: Hunter, Cruz & Havu. Hunter is running away from a love triangle back home under the guise of trying to find his sibling. Cruz is a former coma patient. Havu is a prepper.

Audra is my best piece of shit. She has issues and loves taking them out on everyone else <3 She's also like 2 metres tall.

[galwednesday]

This week's deep dive rec is a combo pack exploring radicalization and the wellness industry, starting with this Guardian piece "Everything you've been told is a lie! Inside the wellness to fascism pipeline" by James Ball, which gives an overview of how these concepts became intertwined:

Peter Knight, professor of American studies at the University of Manchester, who has studied conspiracy theories and their history, notes that the link between alternative therapies and conspiracy is at least a century old, and has been much ignored. “New age and conspiracy theories both see themselves as counter-knowledges that challenge what they see as received wisdom,” he says. “Conspiracy theories provide the missing link, turbo-charging an existing account of what’s happening by claiming that it is not just the result of chance or the unintended consequences of policy choices, but the result of a deliberate, secret plan, whether by big pharma, corrupt scientists, the military-industrial complex or big tech.” Knight notes an extra factor, though – the wellness pipeline has become a co-dependency. Many far-right or conspiracy sites now fund themselves through supplements or fitness products, usually by hyping how the mainstream doesn’t want the audience to have them. [...]

“Alex Jones perfected the grift of selling snake-oil supplements and prepper kit to the libertarian right wing via his conspiracy theory media channels,” Knight says. “But it was Covid that led to the most direct connections between far-right conspiracism and wellness cultures. The measures introduced to curb the pandemic were viewed as attacks on individual sovereignty, which is the core value of both the wellness and libertarian/‘alt-right’ conspiracy communities.” The problem is, it rarely stops with libertarians. While they may not recognise it, those drawn in from the left are increasingly ending up in the same place as their rightwing counterparts. “Although many of the traditional left-leaning alternative health and wellness advocates might reject some of the more racist forms of rightwing conspiracism, they now increasingly share the same online spaces and memes,” he says, before concluding: “They both start from the position that everything we are told is a lie, and the authorities can’t be trusted.”

Part two of this combo rec is an episode of the Maintenance Phase podcast, hosted by Aubrey Gordon and Michael Hobbes, with journalist Mike Rothschild joining them to talk about his research into the wellness to QAnon pipeline:

Special guest Mike Rothschild tells us how the road to wellness can be an on-ramp to a conspiracy theory. Along the way we debunk oil pulling, explore Instagram aesthetics and bemoan anti-vaxx argumentation tactics. Mike gets the date of the January 6th insurrection wrong and he is sorry.

[ace-of-hugs]

hiiii here are all of the main characters from my three main original stories that I'm writing because this is my Tumblr and I can do what I want :D

The Outcasts - a story about a group of survivors during a zombie outbreak, following them as they walk across the country and try to hold themselves together through grief and hardship.

The Rose-Richmond Detective Agency - a collection of short stories about four autistic lesbians solving mysteries and falling in love.

Ravenhold - two childhood best friends cross paths again after not seeing each other very much and fall in love while doing Pirates of the Caribbean-like quests in their steampunk world.

Phillipa "Pippa" Foster - 17 years old. The main character. She was bitten by a zombie when she was eleven and has been living with the parasite inside her for six years. She grew up in the London quarantine before she was bitten and subsequently kicked out/exiled. The Outcasts.

Becca Taylor - 21 years old. Her family was one of the families affected by the efforts to transition the bigger cities to quarantines in order to slow the apocalypse, leading to her growing up in a small house with four other families. She was kicked out/exiled for stealing. The Outcasts.

Maxwell "Max" Harper - 50 years old. The surrogate father of the group. He was a doctor before the outbreak and is driven solely by his inability to save his wife from the parasite. He thinks that he's made something that can slow down the progression of the parasite. The Outcasts.

Valerie "Val" Harper - 26 years old. Max's biological daughter. There wasn't enough room in the quarantines for the two of them, so they've been living on the outside for almost Val's entire life. The Outcasts.

Frank "Frankie" Jackson - 49 years old. He was raised as a conspiracy theorist and grew up to be a doomsday prepper. Despite living in England his entire life, he managed to have a decent supply of guns by the time the apocalypse started. The Outcasts.

Luke Watson - 8 years old. He was bitten by a zombie about a year before the story when he escaped from the quarantine and he wasn't let back in. He was found by the other main characters not long after. The Outcasts.

Charlotte "Charlie" Thompson - 13 years old. She was born during the apocalypse (as most of the characters were), but her parents hadn't been let into any of the quarantines so she was raised on the outside. The Outcasts.

Elizabeth "El" Rose - 21 years old. She’s Winnie’s best friend since she bit one of the students that was bullying her in year seven. She stabbed her dad in self-defence when she was thirteen. She relates hard to Bruce Banner. The Richmond-Rose Detective Agency.

Iris May - 22 years old. She handles all the tech in the agency. She took Winnie in when she was kicked out. Honestly I’ve not developed her lore so there’s not much to put here. The Richmond-Rose Detective Agency.

Winter "Winnie" Richmond - 21 years old. She started the detective agency with her best friend El. She says that it's because she needs money for university, but she actually has wanted to go into detective/detective-adjacent ever since her sister disappeared when she was twelve. The Richmond-Rose Detective Agency.

Ember Gold - 21 years old. She moves in with Iris at the very start and brings in a case bigger than any that they’ve ever solved. The case means that the agency gets a bunch of publicity. Winnie is her gay awakening. The Richmond-Rose Detective Agency.

Penelope "Nell" Black - 18 years old. She’s a pickpocket and con artist who lives on the streets and has since she was young. She grew up a house where her and all of her siblings had to earn their place and she had to leave after a work accident when she was young left her unable to work any more. Ravehold.

Theodosia "Teddy" Cooper - 18 years old. Nell’s childhood best friend who was injured in the same workplace accident. Rather than having to live on the street, she was picked up by airship pirates. She’s been living on their ship and as a part of their crew ever since. Ravehold.

Scarlett Kane - 14 years old. She was raised rich and privileged until one book where Nell and Teddy try to/do assassinate her dad and Nell decides that Scarlett’s her little sister and drags her along for the ride. Ravehold.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Madeline Ashby’s ‘Glass Houses’

I'm coming to BURNING MAN! On TUESDAY (Aug 27) at 1PM, I'm giving a talk called "DISENSHITTIFY OR DIE!" at PALENQUE NORTE (7&E). On WEDNESDAY (Aug 28) at NOON, I'm doing a "Talking Caterpillar" Q&A at LIMINAL LABS (830&C).

Glass Houses – published today by Tor Books – is Madeline Ashby's terrifying technothriller: it's an internet-of-things haunted house story that perfectly captures (and skewers) toxic tech culture while also running a savage whodunnit plot that'll keep you guessing to the end:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9780765382924/glasshouses

Kristen is the "Chief Emotional Manager" for Wuv, a hot startup that has defined the new field of "affective computing," which is when a computer tells you what everyone else around you is really feeling, based on the unsuppressible tells emitted by their bodies, voices and gadgets.

"Chief Emotional Manager" is just a cutesy tech euphemism for "chief of staff." The only person whose emotions Kristen really manages is Sumter William, the boyish billionaire CEO and founder of Wuv. Sumter hired Kirsten because they share a key developmental trait: both were orphaned at an early age and had to raise themselves in a media spotlight.

Both Sumter and Kristen had been in the spotlight even before their parents' death, though. Sumter was the focus of the intense attention that the children of celebrity billionaires always come in for. Kristen, though, was thrust into the spotlight by her parents: her prepper cryptocurrency hustling father, and her tradwife mother, whose livestreams of Kristen's childhoods involved letting the audience vote everything from whether she'd get dessert after dinner to whether her mother should give her bangs.

Kristen's parents died the most Extremely Online death imaginable: a cryptocurrency price-spike sent her father's mining rigs into overdrive, and when they burst into flame, the IoT house system failed to alert him until it was too late. The fire left Kristen both alone and horribly burned, with scars over much of her body.

Managing Sumter through Wuv's tumultuous launch is hard work for Kristen, but at last, it's paid off. The company has been acquired, making Kristen – and all her coworkers on the founding core team – into instant millionaires. They're flying to a lavish celebration in an autonomous plane that Sumter chartered when the action begins: the plane has a malfunction and crashes into a desert island, killing all but ten of the Wuvvies.

As the survivors explore the island, they discover only one sign of human habitation: a huge, brutalist, featureless black glass house, which initially rebuffs all their efforts to enter it. But once they gain entry, they discover that the house is even harder to leave.

This is the setup for a haunted house story where the house seems to be an unknown billionaire prepper's IoT house of horrors. As the survivors of the crash suffer horrible injuries and deaths on the island, the remaining Wuvvies bolt themselves inside, setting up a locked-room whodunnit that runs in parallel.

This is a fantastic dramatic engine for Ashby's specialty: extremely pointed techno-criticism. The ensuing chapters, which flip back and forth between the story of Wuv's rise and rise to a top tech company, and the company's surviving staff being terrorized on a paradisaical tropical aisle, flesh out Ashby's speculation and the critique it embodies.

For example, there's the political culture of Ashby's future America. Wuv are a Canadian company, headquartered in Toronto, and we gradually come to understand that Canada is the beneficiary of an exodus of tech companies from the US following a kind of soft Christian Dominionist takeover (Kristen and Sumter often have to wrangle rules about whether women are allowed to enter the USA in the company of men they aren't married to and who aren't their brothers or fathers).

The flashbacks to this America are beautifully and subtly drawn, especially the scenes in Vegas, which manages to still be Vegas, even amidst a kind national, legally mandated Handmaid's Tale LARP. Ashby uses her futuristic speculation to illuminate the present, that standing wave where the past is becoming the future. Like everything in the shadows of a haunted house tale, this stuff will make the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.

I'm a big Madeline Ashby fan. I have the honor of having published her first story, when I was co-editing one of the Tesseracts anthologies of Canadian SF. I've read and really enjoyed every one of her books, but this one feels like a step-change in Ashby's career, a leveling up to something even more haunting and brilliant than her impressive back-catalog.

Madeline and I will be live at Chevalier's Books in LA on Aug 16 as part of her Glass Houses tour:

https://www.eventbrite.com/e/book-talk-madeline-ashbys-glass-houses-tickets-965286486867

Community voting for SXSW is live! If you wanna hear RIDA QADRI and me talk about how GIG WORKERS can DISENSHITTIFY their jobs with INTEROPERABILITY, VOTE FOR THIS ONE!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/08/13/influencers/#affective-computing

[bitterfishiesstuff]

Part 9, maybe I'll que this one proper instead of posting it

Bad Preppers Au, AO3 series link:

Pairings: Crosshair/Echo Tech/Wrecker

Rating: g-m

Summary: A modern au where the Bad Batch are Preppers, 99 owns a military surplus store where they hang out, and Echo's healing after being medically discharged from his unit in the army in a new city.

I still love this AU so much. It was a blast to research and write

[llimerrence]

Okay so. Fallout oc.

Her name is McKinley now and you can read a lil bit about her belowwwww

since the year 2077, Vault 23 closed it's door, planning on never opening again.

Vault 23 was packed full, designed to hold 1,000 people at capacity. However, unlike most Vaults, 23 did not begin accepting people the day thet bombs fell. In fact, majority of it's inhabitants started living within the Vault a few months to a few years prior to the day the bombs fell.

The reason? Simple. Vault 23 was jammed full of "doomsday preppers", survivalists, and conspiracy theorists.

The test was to see how long they would go before turning on eachother when forced to experience extreme paranoia. However, what Vault-tech wasn't expecting, was for 23 to not turn on eachother, but on Vault-tech itself.

It didn't take long after the doors sealed for the inhabitants of 23 to piece together Vault-Tech's real plan: experiments. It didn't take long for the Over-seer to be overthrown, and the variables of the experiments to be twisted.

The paranoia that some inhabitants faced actually eased when given a real enemy to face against. Those that were mentally prepared for an apocalypse turned out to be able to handle the dramatic changes their lives faced, and their supplies ended up lasting nearly twice as long as originally predicted.

The next generation was taught with the doomsday mindset, and given the skills the former generation had.

In this way, vault 23 out performed almost any other vault in terms of survival, as they were able to keep the doors sealed, and continued to prosper rather than suffer. Even the things that Vault-tech planned on sabotaging were repaired, and handled with relative ease.

In fact, it seemed as though after 200 years, Vault 23 would never need to open its doors until Vault-Tech's projected date of the year 2997 (at least).

But there was one thing Vault 23 couldn't quell in it's inhabitants: curiosity.

And that is how scouting parties began to leave the vault. And despite raider attacks, and multiple attempts at breaching the Vault, 23 is still functioning in top condition. Doomsday has already come, but that won’t stop 23 from preparing for the next one.

__

McKinley is a current scout of Vault 23, and is well known to local wastelanders and traders. She often comes into small settlements to trade, and unlike other scouts from 23, she often comes alone with only her strange companion, Kraken, by her side. Most 23 scouts often pair up on trips, especially for trading, but McKinley only occasionally has shown up with another human in tow. Although, this doesn’t seem to be from her disposition or a lack of social skills.

McKinley appears to be a pretty average vault dweller, with just a bit less of a can-do attitude and a bit more of a kick-ass mentality. Although, this is very likely because of her father being a wastelander who converted to the vault-life after falling in love with a former scout.

The most important thing to note about McKinley that truly separates her from the average vault dweller is that she shares the same base level of paranoia and belief of a doomsday part two that all of 23 seems to keep in mind. Her survival and combat skills are also above average due to the intense training of vault 23. While McKinley still has some of that pure old fashioned vault optimism built into her very existence; it comes from a very different place than most vault dwellers.

___

Her father is the current day-time lead of security. He handles things like opening and closing of the vault during the daytime hours.

Her mother works in the Agricultural Biotechnology department. She is currently trying to breed a new creature. Using the un- mutated dna of a white tail deer and dna of a deathclaw. Specifically to make an animal that is easy to control, to breed, and yet is not easily mutated by radiation, and that does not transfer radiation when eaten. This is an attempt to provide a safer food source for those inside and out of the vault. Eventually the Deathdeer will succeed.

So far, her mother & her team have created a crossbreed of a Cat and a Wanamingo. This resulted in a small furry creature with a tail like a whip/ tentacle, rows of sharp teeth, and retractable “suckers” on its paws which it can use to easily climb up walls and on ceilings. However, due to the selective breeding and dna slicing, the “Wanamiline” is completely docile towards humans but makes an excellent “mouser” although it mostly catches RadRoaches. (Yes she has the Wanamiline. It is very common to see as a pet in vault 23 alongside normal cats and dogs)

[greatwyrmgold]

An article written by Douglas Rushkoff after some arch-capitalists hired him to chat about keeping their bunkers safe. Some choice quotes:

More than anything, they have succumbed to a mindset where “winning” means earning enough money to insulate themselves from the damage they are creating by earning money in that way. It’s as if they want to build a car that goes fast enough to escape from its own exhaust.

Most billionaire preppers don’t want to have to learn to get along with a community of farmers or, worse, spend their winnings funding a national food resilience programme. The mindset that requires safe havens is less concerned with preventing moral dilemmas than simply keeping them out of sight.

[orangameelectronics]

Stay Charged Anywhere: 20,000mAh Solar Power Bank with 4 USB Ports & Flashlight

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Why This Power Bank is a Must-Have With a massive 20,000mAh polymer battery, this powerhouse can charge most smartphones 4-5 times, tablets twice, and even keep smaller gadgets like cameras or LED lights running for hours. It’s 4 USB ports let you juice up multiple devices simultaneously—perfect for group trips or families.

Solar Charging for Emergencies Don’t let dead outlets stop you! The built-in solar panel provides emergency charging under direct sunlight. While it’s not a primary charging method, it’s a lifesaver when you’re off-grid. Pair it with fast-charging support (5V/2A) to quickly refuel your devices.

Built to Last Crafted from durable aluminum alloy, this power bank survives drops, dust, and rough handling. It’s also packed with safety certifications (CE, RoHS, FCC) and protections against over-heating, over-charging, and short circuits.

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Travel-Friendly Design Compact (5.5” x 3” x 0.6”) and lightweight, it slips easily into backpacks or pockets. Choose from sleek gray, silver, gold, or even customize the color. Compatible with USA/EU/UK/AU outlets, it’s a global travel companion.

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No more battery anxiety—this solar power bank keeps you connected everywhere. Grab yours and #StayJuicedUp on your next adventure! 🌞🔋 DM us at https://pse.is/7h9dz7 for further details!

Certified: CE/FCC/RoHS | Colors: Gray/Silver/Gold/Custom

[this-is-not-a-slow-burn]

I made a comment the other day about wanting to live in Night City and someone else replied "You're not supposed to want to live in Night City" and oh boy.

Let me tell you about my version of escapism.

Ever since I read Oryx & Crake and The Road I became enamored with speculative fiction.

I was already a huge fan of cyberpunk flavored media like Blade Runner, Ghost in the Shell, and Aeon Flux (the animation on MTV's Liquid Television block in the 90's) and even Star Trek TNG's tech elements (I love the show in general but the stuff like holosuites and androids was really interesting) so it wasn't a huge leap that I would be sucked into the dystopian post-apocalyptic hellscapes of properties like Cyberpunk 2077, Fallout (4 at least) and more hard leaning scifi like ME.

I'm drawn to the survival aspect, and find it unendingly inspirational. Not in a "survivalist prepper" kind of way, but just the resolution to live despite the shit being thrown at you. That defiant fight against entropy and the rules that try to dictate your fate. The enduring human spirit that goes on shining even when the soot is so thick you can hardly see through it.

It's a common thing for trauma survivors to latch onto these kinds of stories.

So when I say I want to live in Night City, it's not because I revel in the horrors of a city like NC, though it is because of those horrors. It's the resistance to them that endears me. Because for all its hopelessness, its degeneracy, its crime, and all of its transgressions against unconsenting minds, there's a sense of scrappy survival and hope.

Plus I like the aesthetics and am totally a robofucker. Or more accurately biomechanical/android/cyborg fucker xD

There's a whoooole essay in my head about this but I'm under the weather. Maybe some day I will delve into it more fully.