#abertine

[missin-you-already]

I can't believe how sapphic all of these movies are, man

[uel2023s2]

Datas, inoffensif ou dangereux ?

De nos jours on sous- estime l’importance des datas, ces données que l’on rend libre d’accès en utilisant des services reliés à Internet. Pour nous ce ne sont que des condition d’utilisation à accepter mais pour les marques et les grandes firmes ce sont des richesses qu’ils exploitent.  Ces mêmes données sont utilisées en grande majorité a fin commercial mais rien ne nous promet qu’elles servent à rien d’autre. Afin d’instruire les populations sur l’importance des datas de nombreux artistes mettent en place des œuvres qui simplifie la compréhension. Aujourd’hui nous allons parler de Casino Las Datas, une ouvre de Filipe Vilas-Boas, Sylvia Fredriksson et Abertine Meunier.

A première vue ce sont de simples machines à sous dans un supposé casino, mais lorsqu’on y prête plus attention on peut voir le coté alarmiste de l’œuvre. Tout d’abord pour se procurer des jetons pour jouer, le spectateur devra donner des informations le concernant, plus ces informations sont personnelles plus elles rapporteront de jetons. Lorsqu’on regarde attentivement les symboles présents sur les machines à sous on aperçoit des logos qui nous sont familier ( emoji, logo de mails, numéros, etc…) que l’on peut supposer être des métaphore de nos utilisations d’internet. Le système de gain lui nous montre que nous pouvons rarement gagner mais souvent tout perdre.

On est donc en droit de se poser la question, La divulgation de datas est- elle dangereuse pour nos utilisation d’internet ? et comment pourrions-nous la restreindre dans nos quotidiens ?

sources :

filipevilasboas.com

Google Images

Tony Sampaio

[cattleyamay]

France, 1793

Her gaze landed on the enormous and imposing "Rue des Cordeliers" where her greatest enemy happily resided. It was a pity that such a despicable being inhabited such a beautiful mansion.

She reached for the neckline of her dress with her trembling hand and sighed as she felt the cold metal of the dagger. She was furious; she had sent him a letter requesting an audience, and the scoundrel didn't even bother to respond. Then she sent a second one, but impatience and anger didn't allow her to wait for a reply.

She was too impulsive for her own good. What was she thinking when she decided to visit him, she pondered regretfully. But it was already too late, she told herself; the time had come.

She glanced sideways at the confused and surprised looks of the coachman and the servant as they saw her approach such a grand mansion that obviously didn't match her noble attire. They probably thought she was coming to see her lover, and the fact that she kept touching her neckline didn't help.

She paid the coachman what was owed and waited for the carriage to disappear before heading towards the mansion. My, it was immense; it was clear that the demonic idiot was living the good life.

Nerves began to churn in her stomach. Suddenly, she felt the corset tighter, cutting off her breath, and her hands were as wet as rivers; to prevent a possible heart attack, she had to take several deep breaths before knocking on the door.

She heard footsteps approaching from the other side of the enormous door, and then it opened with difficulty, revealing a chubby, short lady with a bored look, who looked at her with confusion.

"Can I help you with something, miss?" she grimaced at the servant's annoying tone.

"I need to see Mr. Marat; it's a matter of utmost importance," she barely finished the sentence before seeing the refusal in the chubby lady's eyes.

"I'm sorry," the lady lied without trying to hide it, "but Mr. Marat is not in a condition to receive visitors."

The servant moved to close the door, but Charlotte rudely intervened with her hand, blocking the door's path. With all her strength, she pushed the gigantic door aside and entered the enormous mansion.

"Miss, wait! You can't enter!" she exclaimed as she hurriedly tried to catch up with her.

A door to her right opened, revealing the demon of Paris. The king of the Jacobins.

Marat was halfway dressed, with drops running down his face and chest. The scoundrel smirked at her.

She smiled to herself. He didn't know the fate that awaited him.

"Abertine, what's the meaning of this commotion?" Marat asked, still smiling.

That was the last smile that came from Marat's lips before her knife slit his throat. The man didn't manage to make a sound.

That was her mission, to stop the perpetrator of the September massacre. She knew she would be executed, but that hardly affected her. She had already accepted her fate and with it came peace.

(Originally written in 2014, translated from Spanish to English 2024)

[primapolaris]

Day 14: Demure Palette

For some reason, this color palette can be searched as “demure” in Gaia Online I think it also can be searched as “abertine”(??) But I like this palette lmao

[shadow27]

But everyone deserves love, even Nancy.

Viv Albertine remembering Nancy Spungen

[nevou]

Fecho já, só o que não fechou ainda foi seu tumblr aqui dkoadkoadkokod . Eu ?Jamais, nem sei como fazer isso u.u

haushauahah deixe ele abertin ai que ele te gusta 🤷🏽‍♀️ fez enem?

[shadow27]

... maybe you can tell how much pain someone is in by watching them laugh.

Viv Albertine