#i just want things to last without breaking and then being sent to landfill | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kirchefuchs · 1 year

Note

(BACK AT IT AGAIN, PEOPLE!)

So earlier I was listening to No Surprises by Radiohead.

Listen to it right now and tell me that it's not Stanley-coded, I freaking dare you–

I AM NOT JOKING HERE, IT IS THE MOST PERFECT SONG FOR HIM AND LET ME GO ON A LONG EXPLANATION AS TO WHY I CLAIM SUCH THING

aHem now let's get to the lyrics 💯

"A heart that's filled up like a landfill

A job that slowly kills you

Bruises that won't heal"

(Already. I bet you can already see what I mean by this–)

Imagine being Stanley for a second. Dude is literally stuck in a parable all his life (I mean, if the one he has right now still counts) with a narrator who is only coded to care about him when Stanley's actions directly affect either it or the story (I love The Narrator with all my life I swear but he's a bit of a jerk in the canon so <//3).

And Stanley has a job. Every single day (reset), he's always sent back to the very beginning. As the hours go by, every little detail that he's slowly grown to despise torments him — it's slowly killing him and the only thing he can do is suck it up and move on. He's essentially "working" in a soulless ghost of a company with no way out and is forced to live every single waking moment of his life with The Narrator, listening to his voice drone on and on and on and on until Stanley's sick of it but can only wish that he could die permanently without the curse of coming back at the end (is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never th...) of each path.

Who wouldn't hate it?

He's living in his own, personal hell, with no way to just stop and breathe and relax without The Narrator just deciding to come along and ruin it all. No matter how many bruises, none of them will heal.

Let's move on to the next part, shall we?

"You look so tired, unhappy

Bring down the government

They don't, they don't speak for us"

You can imagine "the government" as "The Narrator" in this. With every loop coming full circle, who wouldn't feel tired? Who wouldn't feel exhausted, even if your physical stamina has been reset? Who wouldn't feel unhappy?

Who wouldn't, other than The Narrator?

He only wants Stanley to continue with the story. He only wants Stanley to just get along with it and give him an ending instead of just standing around because how dare he take a break– how dare he actually try to relax and heal for once. How dare he be human. How dare he try to prove he's in control. How dare he wave off The Narrator's obvious power. How dare he claim that he doesn't speak for him. How dare he. How dare he.

"I'll take the quiet life

A handshake of carbon monoxide

And no alarms and no surprises

No alarms and no surprises

Silent. Silent."

This. This. I think this speaks for itself but I'll proceed to go on a super long tangent anyway.

Quiet. Quiet is all he'll ever want. In every single moment of his life, The-freaking-Narrator is always there to screw him up one way or another, with the only exception being The Skip Button Ending. While I'm at it, I like to think that the Stanley Button in the epilogue didn't give him the reaction we've all absolutely loved (and also wanted) him to have. Instead, a sort of nostalgic and post-anger relief is all he'll ever feel towards it, knowing that this is most-likely the last time he'll ever have to hear The Narrator call him Stanley.

Finally, finally — there's silence. It's only him and the bucket. Only him and the rustling sounds of his shoes dragging against the sand. Only him and the occasional, howling wind. Only him and the relief of the end (was never the end was never the end was never the end was never th...). Only him and the quiet life. Only him. No longer does he need to be controlled. No more. None of that. No more alarms, no more surprises, just silence.

(THE END IS NEVER THE END IS NEVER THE END IS LOADING...)

No.. Why?..

"This is my final fit

My final bellyache with

No alarms and no surprises

No alarms and no surprises, please"

Oh.

I lied.

Of course he can't be free! Of course, of course, of course. How dare he actually want to be free. How dare he assume something as childish and as naïve as freedom. Tsk tsk, Stanley; I ought to bring back what you should have expected in the first place.

This is your story and I am your narrator. For all I know, you can't leave without me. You can't leave. You, can't, leave.

Oh, you're begging? Go on, beg. More fun that way, after all! Now get along with the story. Move your pathetic butt out of your office door. Good.

All of his co-workers were gone, what could it mean? Stanley decided to go to the meeting room; perhaps he had simply missed a memo.

(...Ahem, sorry, a cruel Narrator is just really fun to roleplay as, haha– Anyway, if you actually listen to the song and head to that part of the lyrics, the "this is my final fit, my final bellyache (with)" is calmer in comparison to the sudden thud– the sharp turn to the chorus ("no alarms and no surprises³/please"). That's what I basically wanted to convey while I was being weird (aka, going full-blown Narrator lmfao 💀); Stanley was taken back when he finally thought he was free.)

"Such a pretty house

And such a pretty garden

No alarms and no surprises (get me out of here)

No alarms and no surprises, please (get me out of here)"

Oh, if only.

If only.

If only he had the choice.

(ahem anyway, holy cuh-raP this is long asf– anyway local 🅰️non Notes: I would like to apologize to Pollux for making you super mean here 😞 But in all fairness, this isn't you. ...quite literally, lmfao–)

(Anyway!! hope you liked this one lolz– this is the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never th– oopsie! what I meant to say was– this is the end of today's ramble 💯)

— 🅰️non :D || 07/02/2023

I don't think I have much to add onto you're rant here. This was all very fun to read honestly. And don't worry about Pollux, lol.

He may be a squishy little cinnamon roll now. But back in hl2 he was very similar to how you portrayed him.

He was a lot meaner back then. It can be hard to be considerate of people's feelings when you can't feel them yourself. He's still cute tho ♡

#fanart #tspud #the stanley parable #tsp #ask #digital art #tsp narrator #tspud narrator #🅰️non

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clydesgod · 4 years

Text

The coming

Feat. Richard, Vitalis, Krista

(This is just a lil drabble so, there shouldn’t be any major themes to worry about. just enjoy. Sorry if I there’s some grammar or spelling errors hehe)

As the sun rose from it’s concrete horizon, Richard let out a large yawn as he struggled to put his shirt on. He had been trained on how to do it without anything getting caught on his horns, but it was awfully hard when you took into consideration that Richard hardly remembered much, especially when he just woke up not even half an hour ago. Not only was he changing his shirt, he was also cooking. Fried eggs, soaked in olive oil. Hardly a healthy option but it was one that got him in a good mood in the morning. Well, minus the fact both of the yolks had burst. He didn’t care either way. Sort of.

As he finished cooking them and moving them onto a plate, he couldn’t help but feel a slight hint of dread loom over his shoulders. Was it the hangover? No, couldn’t be. Sure, he felt like trash in a landfill, but he never felt like something awful was about to happen.

“‘Scuseeeeeee me,” asked the shorter demon as he pushed past Richard and his plate so he could open the fridge and raid it, like every morning. “Do we still have any leftovers from last night?”

Richard scoffed, picking up his plate and moving towards the main living room with an almost ragged couch and a plain looking coffee table. “Chinese for breakfast? I’d hardly say peking duck with a side of spring onion is the best choice of food to start the day with.” He commented, sighing somewhat as he looked down at his rather sad looking fried eggs. They’d be good for now anyway. He could easily go to the store later.

“Sorry for being so unclassy mr ‘ramen at 4am’,” Vitalis spat, closing the fridge as he then began to raid the other cupboards. “Surely there have to be some pop tarts here or something. You didn’t throw them away did you?”

“You mean the ones that went out 3 months ago?” Richard replied.

“Yeah. The strawberry ones.”

“Yeah I threw them out.”

The shorter demon groaned, collapsing to his knees and looking down at himself. “I’m going to staaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarve!” He moaned in a very monotone voice. He was always an actor, even to the very end. “I always knew this would be how I’d die. With an empty stomach and whilst my favourite cousin eats in front of my face.”

Richard, who hadn’t even taken a bite, rolled his eyes and held the plate towards him. “You want these ones then?”

Dropping his sad act, the shorter demon looked up, squinting as he looked over at the plate. “Bleh, as if. Those are the saddest eggs I’ve ever seen.”

“Suit yourself, more for me...I guess.”

“Are you really going to not get me something? Like order a McDonald’s maybe?”

“No. Wait-”

“Aww common. I know you want one of those sausage burgers, or even the pancakes.~”

Richard put his plate and cutlery down, letting it clank against the coffee table. “Wait-”

“Boooooo you’re no fun. I’ll order some but that means I won’t be able to pay for rent for a whil-”

“Shut the fuck up! Didn’t you hear what I said?” Richard turned, his expression which previously looked like he just woke up 5 minutes ago, now looked like he realised where this strange sense of dread was coming from. He stood up, looking around the room as Vitalis started to pick up what he was feeling. He felt it too, through his hunger.

A creak was heard, as if someone was walking right outside the apartment. That shouldn’t even be at all weird, they hear people moving past this place all the time. Why was something off now? Was it the sound of their heels? The way they were moving slowly? No. Something about this person’s aura was ringing alarms in the demons’ heads. Vitalis moved quickly, hiding behind the couch as Richard attempted to follow suit.

A knock was heard. Was this a trick? Surely someone was trying to break in, no? That should’ve been the reason for this strange sense, surely. Richard slowly turned, facing the door. He looked back at Vitalis, who shrugged.

“I ain’t answering’ that fucking door!” He whispered loudly, pointing over behind him. “You go and do it! It’s your apartment!”

Richard gulped, turning his body around as he stared at the door. Why was this feeling familiar? It was like he forgot something and was about to face the consequences of that action. Why though? He sent a birthday card to his granddad last month, what could he be forgetting? He kept moving forward, his hand hesitantly reaching over at the locks as the doorknob fidgeted slightly. Someone wanted to get in.

Another knock. Richard recoiled a bit, but carried on moving on towards the door, undoing all of the security chains and latches he had installed when he first moved in. He was told it was a safe area...but you can never be so sure.

Vitalis had dived down behind the couch, hands covering his head as he awaited a possible fight, maybe a huge explosion? He didn’t know what Richard usually got up so it really could’ve been anything. Maybe even a dragon? Or worse, the landlord. Him and Richard grit their teeth, preparing for anything as the taller demon slowly turned the handle on the door. Who was it? What could he possibly have forgotten? Slowly, he opened the door when-

It stopped. Oh no. The door was jammed, whoever was outside was trying to trap them from the inside. That had to be it. It was one of the villains he had to deal with every day and now they were here to seek revenge and kill-

Oh. Wait. No. Richard looked down, realizing he forgot to undo the last latch to the door. “A-Ah. S-sorry. One second.” He nervously said, unsure as to why he would even let someone know about his current predicament. He quickly undid the last lock, slowly opening the door now. Why did he feel like he had to urgently open this door all of a sudden? As if he didn’t want to disappoint whoever was on the other side.

As the door opened, Richard began to ponder quickly on whom it would’ve been. He thought about all of the emotions and feelings leading up to this point. Dread, forgetfulness, worry, haste, urgency, disapointment. He gulped once more, knowing there was one way to find out.

The door opened. Richard had his eyes closed as he had braced himself for whatever was behind there. Strange though, he wasn’t being beaten around at all. That’s what he was sort of expecting. He opened his eyes, slowly at first but then quickly as he recognised that face anywhere.

“W-What are you- how did you even know- how- I- What are you doing here?”

“Did you really think you could get away with that?”

Richard took a step back, gulping before he replied. “G-get away with what?”

“Hmph.

Getting away

without saying...”

“Hello!” Said Krista, who at this point had just thrown her arms around Richard, trapping him in a hug. She was taller than Richard, but that was mainly thanks to those heels she wore. She hugged him for a while, with Richard trying to push away from her.

Eventually she let go of him, allowing the wrath demon to stumble back and fall onto the couch.

“Mom??? What do you mean??? Since when were you visiting?” He asked, not raising his voice so as to not fear her wrath.

“You didn’t need to know that,” she replied back, closing the door behind her as she entered the apartment, having a look around at the state everything was in. “Oh my goodness, you left this place in a better state than your bedroom at home.”

“Speaking of,” she looked back at Richard, her gaze piercing as she squinted and frowned her brow. “Me, your father, your siblings, and your grandparents, sent you a lot of lovely St David’s day messages on your phone. And what do we get? Nothing. I asked your father, he received nothing. Rhys? Nothing. Gwyneth? Nothing. Your father’s parents? Zilch! And what do I get? An ungrateful son who doesn’t even ask how his dear mother is doing.”

She huffed, crossing her arms as she looked away from her son. Richard, at this point, was looking almost terrified.

“Aaaaaaa-I swear I forgot! I-I had a bit too much to drink last night so the texta sort of went over my head. I was going to reply to them but I just, sort of-”

“Oh don’t you bring up that ‘forgetfulness’ thing again,” she interrupted, looking back at Richard with a huff. “This would never have happened if you stopped drinking like we asked you to do! It’s so unhealthy!”

“...But Rhys is allowed to smoke-”

“Did I say you had permission to interrupt me?”

“I-I mean. S-sorry mom.”

“As I was saying,” she continued, pacing around the room, looking about at everything. “Your dear mother was so worried for you, I decided I just had to pay you a visit. It didn’t help that I had to knock about 3 times. You made me worried sick!”

“I’m so sorry!” Richard replied, clasping his hands together and looking up at his mother as if he was begging for his life. “I don’t mean to make you worry! I swear I forgot. I swear! I promise I’ll reply to every text I get from you and dad!”

Krista stared at Richard for a while, eyes squinting as she loomed over Richard. She looked furious...until her expression suddenly changed as she closed her eyes and let out a brief giggle.

“Alright. I forgive you lil Dewi,” She reached over, patting his head as she moved over onto the couch, sitting herself down and placing a brown paper bag onto the coffee table. “Those are some sad looking eggs dear, so I hope you can forgive me for bringing fast food for you. I know you always love those McMuffin things with that round egg in them.”

“Did someone say McMuffin?” Vitalis said, popping his head up whilst keeping a safe distance away from Krista.

“What did your mother teach you Vitty?”

“...Hello Mrs Clydesgod may I please have some breakfast please and thank you.”

Rolling her eyes, she reached into the bag and brought out a wrapped meal just for him. She reached on over, letting him take it so he could slowly sink down behind the couch.

“Where did you even get that from?” Richard asked, who looked on over at the bag as well. “Er- may I have one too...please.”

“A rather long way to say ‘please’ don’t you think Dewi?” She joked, handing him his own meal. “Don’t worry about me, I’ve already eaten today.”

Having his question unanswered, Richard simply unwrapped his meal and dug in. He was used to being disappointed by the amount of answers his mother was good at not giving him. She wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon, wasn’t she.

“I’m not planning on leaving anytime soon by the way.”

Fuck.

“You haven’t spoken to any of your family for quite a while and I think that should be changed. I’m sure your father would agree.” Krista stated, resting her hands on her lap as she looked over at Richard.

“There’s no way Rhys and Gwyneth are going to stay here. There’s no room and I’d rather die than be in the same room as Rhys of all people.”

Krista gasped, placing a hand on her chest as her brows arched upwards. “How could you say such a thing! About your eldest brother too! I thought you and Rhys were good friends.”

“We were until he dated my crush, knowing damn well she was my crush ,15 years ago.”

“Tut tut tut, that’s no good reason as to not interact with him at all.” Krista crossed her arms again, a move that always made goosebumps appear on Richard’s arms. “I will not force them to come. But knowing them, they’ll find their way over here eventually. There’s nothing much you can do about that.”

“Yeah...I know.” He carried on eating, enjoying the breakfast she had brought for them silently.

“Let me know if you need any money for your rent, Dewi.” She added, standing up and taking the brown bag with her.

“W-wait. You’re going already?” He asked, almost choking on a bit of sausage in the process of asking.

“Why, yes! I’m still yet to check into my hotel room! I’ll text you where I’ll be staying if you want to see me or to introduce me to any of your lovely friends!” She made her way towards the door, opening it and pausing at the door way. She looked back, her eyes squinting ever so slightly as she spoke.

“I do expect a reply this time dear.”

Richard gulped, with Krista closing her eyes and letting out a little giggle. “Hwyl! Bore da!”

“Bore...da...mam…” Upon her closing the door, Richard was left dumbfounded, his mouth somewhat agape as the feeling of dread began to return.

Vitalis peaked up from behind the couch, looking at the coffee table.

“So...are you going to eat those eggs?”

Richard looked back, trying to resist the urge to slap him before resting his head back against the couch and rubbing his face with both hands.

“Sure. Knock yourself out.”

#{lore}#{dyn gafr🐐 : Richard Clydesgod}#{jackalope🐇 : Vitalis Megalos}#{the unnameable🐙 : Krista Clydesgod}#// AAAAAAAAAAAAAA I HOPE PEOPLE LIKE THIS #// I don't write this long because i feel like i go off topic quite a bit ;w;#// I hope this is a good ready for some people #// if I made some mistakes pleaaaaaase let me know owo

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wafflebloggies · 4 years

Text

A Little Light Mischief

When you moved at the speed of light, boredom was a problem.

Mr. Flare hated being bored. He could find and experience the entire back catalogue of a YouTube channel in the time it took most people to type the first letter into the search bar. Information or entertainment, a good 99 percent of the content he devoured tended to slip straight through his consciousness without adhering to anything on the way through. He could read faster than a panicking defence attorney before an important court date, but books were for losers and it was hard to turn comic pages when you were a discorporate entity with no opposable thumbs.

Cartoons were okay, but watching twenty-four frames a second slapping lazily one over the other like a flip-book moving through treacle made him feel pretty queasy after a while.

It was hard, being the world’s coolest lens artefact. Flare needed excitement, fun, drama. He liked to be in a place where things were moving and happening, bopping along, and for a while, things at Disillusion Industries had been slow, frustratingly predictable. A video would be produced, a video would be released. Despite his best efforts and clear charismatic radiance, a criminally low percentage of these videos starred or even featured Mr. Flare.

That was before the nerd had quit.

After that, everything got much more interesting. For a solid week, then two, then three and more, not even Mr. Flare could have predicted where D would be or what he’d be up to next. He might be spending days rendering obsessively accurate reconstructions of scenes from classic movies down in the edit bay, muttering furiously to himself the whole time, or he might be floating face down in the skypool, butt-naked apart from a pair of shutter shades and one waterlogged Yeezy. It was all pretty hilarious to watch, and when he thought about it, Flare had to admit that the nerd had only ever really been in the way. The last thing Disillusion Industries had needed, if you really looked at the bigger picture, was a methodical, anal-retentive wet blanket underfoot, harshing the buzz for everybody. Humans kind of sucked, it was a basic objective fact.

That was why when the email showed up, he’d been less than pleased.

Flare could see things the way the Captain could, by and large. He just did it better, clearer, and faster. Much faster. He could see the pink-white glow of an incoming message flicking down the tubes and jumping through routers and splitters, and he could catch up with it as it dawdled along, as easy as hopping on a slow-moving trolley. He could see the nerd’s digital fingerprints all over the thing, even before he read the actual body of the email.

Blah, blah, blah. Flare liked drama, but this was the snoozefest kind of drama, just feelings and reasonable statements, the kind that wouldn’t even make for a good commentary video. You couldn’t even leak this shit- nobody would care. Whatever the subject matter, it was another basic objective fact that the entertainment value in people discussing things calmly and rationally like adults was practically zero.

--Anyway, I know you’re probably mad at me, but I just wanted to say that it’s okay if you want to talk.

Ugh. Yawn-o-rama.

If Flare had had a tongue, he would have stuck it out good and far in disgust. The place had been way more fun for the last few weeks, without the nerd hanging around getting nerd-stink all over everything. For one, he’d taken the cat with him, and the cat had always been under the mistaken impression that Flare was a great thing to chase and try to stick in its stupid tuna-breath cat-mouth.

D was way more fun, too. He was explosive and weird- well, weirder- with a mood as stable as a revolving door falling through a black hole. It was a wild ride, like witnessing a very prolonged jet-ski accident in zero-gravity. It was fun. If the nerd came back, he’d probably clean up the entire epic record-breaking trashpile that had been accumulating on the bridge. He’d probably ask D to put some pants on. And he’d bring his goddamn cat.

Flare stretched his digital flex out thoughtfully through the ion stream surrounding the nerd’s message, and wrote.

--Go fuck yourself, fleshbag.

Direct and nicely to the point, but maybe a little OOC. Flare had been in enough serious erotic roleplays in his time to know the importance of properly finding one’s character. He flicked the draft out of existence and tried again.

--Listen, Alan, if you want to come crawling back just say so, but I’ll be honest, we’ve streamlined our workflow up here a lot over the last couple of months, and I’m not sure if I could find much for you to do right now. I should probably point out that I’m not your shrink and I don’t have time to help you work through your commitment issues or whatever.

P.S, you left your dumb cat’s treat pouches in the mess hall fridge. I can have them FedExed if you want, but the orbital courier fees are on you.

“Mr. Flare, you are a literary genius,” said Flare, admiring the message proudly from a couple picaseconds distance. The junction to D’s inbox was coming up, yawning like a highway off-ramp, so he sent his reply fizzing back towards its sender, and flipped the nerd’s email straight into the spam folder, snickering happily as he zipped away across the overflowing virtual landfill and into the real world.

#Captain Disillusion #mr. flare #alan amelik #my writes

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tracybirds · 5 years

Text

Okay I came away with two thoughts from today’s episode

1. Gordon is a liar, he has with absolute certainty explored a WRM mine before 2. This was a very fun ep but everyone’s character felt a little off ngl and I kinda wish that Brains’ plotline had been more important/supported?? idk still thinking about that.

None of which is super relevant to this but hey I wrote fic! Loosely inspired by that first thought and then went in a different direction bc I sure don’t have any control xD Under cut for world building spoilers but no plot spoilers :D

A hand slammed down on the desk next to him with a loud bang, making Gordon jump slightly. He looked up and saw his friend Edna grinning and waving a tablet at him.

“Oh man, you got it?” he asked, leaping to his feet and grabbing the tablet.

“Course I did mate, what do you take me for?” she scoffed. “I told you Jez would come through for me. Twenty-four hundred k’s of tunnels they reckon that WRM has already made down there, and you and me, we’re gonna see it for ourselves.”

“Nice one, Eddie,” he said, still eagerly looking through the schedules and access points Jez had shared with them. “When do we go?”

“I was thinking right now,” she said cheerfully. She rolled her eyes when he looked up, startled. “What, you got something better to do, Trace? They change these codes all the time to keep people like us out of there, who knows how long this one’ll last?”

“You’re right,” said Gordon, reaching down to gather up his things. “Let me stop back at the dorm and put all this away.”

“The dorm,” Edna said with a laugh. “Well, get your A into G, I want to be gone in twenty.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said with a mock salute, then hurried off.

He’d met Edna in one of his first classes at university, a course he’d signed up for mostly because he couldn’t believe it was real. ‘Treasure or Trash: History Through the Eyes of a Landfill’ had not only ended up being an absolute blast, taking them through archaeological digs, medieval middens and the plastic crisis of modern history, but he’d formed a fast friendship with Eddie who’d sat next to him on the first day. The pair had since spent many a weekend hiking through National Parks and swimming at the Australian beaches, only a few hours away.

However, their primary shared interest lay in vintage tech.

Gordon grinned as he changed quickly, knowing this would be a once in a lifetime opportunity. WRMs were still brand new technology and the one being used for reclamation nearby was the first of its kind in Oceania. They were opening up opportunities for retro enthusiasts with an adrenaline addiction and Edna, with her background in spelunking and all things historical, fit the bill.

Gordon supposed Edna had rubbed off on him over the past few months, his heart leaping at the thought of exploring the tunnels into recent history. No-one had been down there in decades and he was hoping to find some broken consoles that he and Virgil could restore for Alan’s birthday.

His communicator beeped and he grinned as he opened it to a projection of his older brother.

“Hey Virg, what’s happening?”

“Gordon,” Virgil snapped. “Where are you? I’ve been waiting for half an hour.”

Gordon froze, one hand on the backpack he had just filled with supplies. “What?”

“We’ve got that benefit dinner, remember? Scott sent me to pick you up.”

“Oh man, that was today?” he said, rushing to the window. Sure enough, he could see Virgil leaning against a tree outside the dorms.

“Sure was,” said Virgil, spotting him and giving him a wave. “Can you buzz me up, the security guard won’t let me in without an invitation.”

“Oh, yeah,” said Gordon. “Uh, sure.”

Virgil’s eyes narrowed. “You did remember, didn’t you?”

“Yes, absolutely,” babbled Gordon, panicking as he heard a knock on the door. “Come on up, I just need to pack.”

“You haven’t started?”

“Finish!” he shouted, tripping over the backpack as another more insistent knock pounding on the door. “Just got to finish it off, no probs here.”

He swung the door open and Edna barged in.

“Are you ready yet?” she demanded.

“Who’s that?” asked Virgil.

“Nothing, no-one, see you in a bit Virg,” yelled Gordon and he hurriedly severed the connection.

Edna was scowling, her arms crossed in front of her chest. “You’re not chickening out, are you?”

“I’m not! I just,” Gordon ran his hands through his hair and quickly put his visitors request through to Steve downstairs. “I’m sorry Eddie, I can’t go with you today.”

“Are you serious? Jez won’t be able to get the access codes again, this is our only chance to explore this place.”

“I know,” said Gordon, hurriedly pulling out a suitcase and throwing clothes into it haphazardly. “I know Eddie, I’m really sorry. There’s this thing at home, and I gotta go, I promised months ago.”

“Well, you promised me too,” she said. “We were in this together.”

Gordon sighed and looked up as Virgil arrived.

“Hey Gordon,” he said before turning to Edna. “Hi, I’m Gordon’s brother.”

She glared at him. “Well, your brother can cark it.”

“Uh,” said Virgil looking bewildered as she stormed out. “You’re probably right?”

Gordon winced as the door slammed.

“What did you do?” Virgil asked. “Wait, did you just break up with her?”

“Shut up, Virg,” he said with a scowl. “Eddie and I aren’t like that. I just forgot to tell her I was leaving today.”

“Okay, and?”

“And I might have promised I would do something with her instead.”

“Uh-huh, what else?”

Gordon swore under his breath. “Fine, we were going to sneak into a WRM mine and now I can’t go.”

“You were going to trespass?”

“No! I mean,” he said, thinking about it. “Kinda?”

“Yeah, okay, no,” said Virgil, shaking his head. “You are so lucky Scott doesn’t know about this. Grab your bag, let’s go.”

Gordon winced and drew in a large breath. “Yeah, so I haven’t packed yet.”

“GORDON!”

#spoilers #gordon tracy #virgil tracy #thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #sometimes i fic

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wineanddinosaur · 3 years

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The PakTech Plastic Paradox

Last February, just a month or so before the coronavirus pandemic really got going in earnest, Emma Shea received a package at Zero Gravity Craft Brewery in Burlington, Vt. It was from PakTech, the Eugene, Ore., firm that produces the hard plastic, solid-hued 4- and 6-pack carrier handles with which the brewery packages its canned beers. But it wasn’t the handles themselves — it was a bin for customers to drop off used handles for proper recycling.

“We emailed PakTech and they mailed us a blue collection bin and some educational signage within two weeks,” Shea recalls in an emailed exchange with VinePair.

But when it came time to actually recycle the used high-density polyethylene handles Zero Gravity had collected, Shea and her colleagues encountered what you might call the PakTech paradox. Despite the company’s claims that its popular handles are both made from 100 percent recyclable materials and themselves fully recyclable, actually recycling them is often more complicated than that.

“We don’t have a convenient location that accepts PakTech handles for processing,” says Shea. “Currently, the nearest location is in Massachusetts, and they only accept them by the truckload.”

So what happens to the PakTech handles that make it to your local brewery, but not a reprocessor? Across the country at San Diego’s Thorn Beer Company — which has offered small discounts on beer for returned handles for the past couple of years — Anna Brigham has an answer. “Any toppers that we can’t reuse goes into our [waste management company] recycling dumpster and hopefully will get recycled from there,” she tells VinePair.

“Though there’s no way to know what’s happening to it at that point.”

PakTech’s craft brew debut

It’s flummoxing stuff, particularly for breweries that choose PakTech’s popular handles because of their recyclability (not to mention the nearly 500 nationwide that, like Zero Gravity and Thorn, have opted into the company’s pilot handle collection program, launched in 2018.) But before we get into all that, it’s worth taking a quick step back to parse how PakTech can handles found their way into the beer business in the first place.

Beer has been sold in 6-packs since the late 1930s, but it wasn’t until 1960 that an American manufacturer invented those clear plastic rings to replace heavier, more expensive metal, wood, and cardboard carriers. After a 1961 deal with a little St. Louis brewery you may have heard of called Anheuser-Busch, these things quickly became the U.S. beer business’s industry-standard 6-pack carrying solution. But they also became notorious among environmentalists and conservation groups for their negative impact on wildlife: When they wound up in the ocean, as they often did, they reportedly strangled the occasional turtle. “Six-pack rings were hugely controversial ever since I was a kid,” recalls Anne Johnson, vice president of global corporate sustainability at material recovery consultancy Resource Recycling Systems, in a recent phone interview. “They’re one of those first things that really ended up being a plastic pollution problem.”

So when American craft brewing’s second wave picked up steam in the aughts, the eco-conscious, small-bore producers pushing it forward sought packaging that was both better for the environment and more suited to their smaller budgets and outputs. Enter PakTech, which in 2008, partnered with Maui Brewing to develop QuadPak and 6Pak carriers, early versions of the now-ubiquitous handles craft beer drinkers know today.

“We feel that PakTech has met our needs in an environmentally friendly way that is certain to create a buzz,” Maui Brewing founder Garrett Marrero told Packaging World in November of that year. The article mentioned the carriers’ dust-cover tops and their versatility (workers could snap cans into them by hand, staving off the need for expensive automation equipment until volume demanded it) as key differentiators. “It’s been extremely successful so far. We barely are keeping up with orders,” Marrerro added at the time.

Those early PakTech toppers might have been less lethal for marine life, but they were still being made with “virgin” HDPE, or high density polyethylene — that is, new plastic. As the American drinking public became more concerned about the climate crisis, and more attuned to the role plastic (in both its production and afterlife) plays in hastening environmental apocalypse, PakTech tweaked its offering.

“I believe in 2012, we started converting our handles away from virgin resin and towards PCR,” or post-consumer recycled materials, says Keenan Hoar, PakTech’s territory sales manager for the eastern U.S. and Latin America. The company has come a long way since then, he tells VinePair. “Right now, all of our can handles, every one that we produce, is going to be made of that 100 percent PCR material, so it’s 100 percent recycled to start.” PakTech says this shift helps it avoid most of the energy and emissions that go into virgin plastic, and all of the oil. The material itself mostly comes from recycled milk jugs, though recently, PakTech has also experimented with a “full circle” program to recycle old handles directly into new ones. Across its entire portfolio — i.e., its non-beer products — the firm still has a few holdout customers using virgin resin, Hoar says, but “our goal is 100 percent conversion [to PCR], and we’re almost there.”

According to its website, “almost half” of PakTech’s business today is manufacturing can carriers. The plastic for those carriers mostly comes from recycled milk jugs, Hoar says. And it’s apparently been good for business — though it’s hard to say for sure. The company, which is privately held, declined to disclose sales figures or an estimate of the number of can carriers it sold last year, and Hoar told VinePair that because it sells both directly to breweries and distributors, “the actual number [of craft brewers using PakTech handles] is almost impossible to pin down.” But even as growth has slowed in the maturing American craft brewing landscape, and competitors have introduced their own carriers (some recycled plastic, some not), PakTech has found new customers in canned wine, RTDs, and even the cannabis space. (The company recently introduced the PakLock, a child-resistant cover for canned THC drinks.) After a pandemic year during which at-home drinking was at an all-time high, Hoar tells me the company’s carrier business “is still continuing to grow, and at a very good rate.”

Credit: Paktech

On recycling failures and ‘murph’ misses

But while PakTech’s handles are a popular, cost-effective carrying solution across beverage categories and they create a second-life opportunity for the virgin HDPE #2 material that other companies put into the world, they’re not without downsides.

On the benign end of the spectrum: Rank-and-file drinkers have long complained about the difficulty of breaking beers loose from the plastic toppers. “The cans can be tough to remove from the Pak-Tech when you want to drink one — they’re very secure!” Deschutes’ packaging materials manager Matt Bussmann tells VinePair via email. More troubling: “They are still plastic, which is not as green as other options,” he says.

John Hocevar, the oceans campaign director at Greenpeace USA and the author of a peer-reviewed February 2020 study of plastic recyclability in the U.S., drives this point home: “At the end of the day, if a piece of plastic is floating in the ocean, I don’t really care how much recycled content is in it.”

Whether PakTech’s toppers wind up in the ocean is a function, in part, of whether the American recycling system works as promised. And as you may have heard, it doesn’t really, not these days. It’s a very complicated subject, and there are lots of reasons for its failures, many of which, it won’t shock you to learn, are negative externalities of under-regulated capitalism. But for our purposes, the important takeaway is that when you discard a product — be it a PakTech handle, a water bottle, or an aluminum can — into the recycling, it’s more often than not sent to the landfill anyway.

Recycling rates vary depending on material type, geography, and a bunch of other factors, but in 2018 (the last year for which the Environmental Protection Agency published such figures) the recycling rate for HDPE #2 stood at 8.9 percent — meaning that a little over 90 percent of the type of plastic PakTech uses went unrecycled or uncollected entirely in the U.S. With the advent of China’s National Sword policy in 2018, recycling rates likely got even worse, Hocevar and his colleagues speculate. And the coronavirus pandemic hasn’t helped.

PakTech isn’t responsible for single-handedly fixing the country’s broken recycling system, of course. But its handles don’t exactly make it easier on that system, either. Even if you put your handles into the blue bin in your kitchen, and even if they make it to a material recovery facility — an MRF, or “murph” in the jargon — they may not get properly sorted for reprocessing once they’re there.

“Normally I would say go ahead and put it in your bin, but it looks pretty flat,” says RSS’s Johnson, looking at photos of PakTech handles on the company’s website. “I think that if you put it in your bin, it has a chance of getting through” into a bale of to-be-recycled plastics, known to recycling types as “feedstock.” But because the handles are so slim, they may flow with paper, cardboard, and other two-dimensional items, which creates a potential double-whammy: The plastic doesn’t get recovered, and it may contaminate whatever feedstock with which it’s been improperly sorted.

RRS has not studied PakTech handles specifically, so Johnson emphasizes that this is speculation: “It would need to be tested … I would recommend a material flow test at the given MRF.”

But this is not as straightforward as it may seem. According to Greenpeace’s study, there are 367 MRFs across the United States. Their sorting abilities “vary quite a bit,” says Hocevar, as do the materials they accept. So depending on where you live, even if you religiously put your PakTech handles in that blue household bin, the odds are even slimmer (ahem) that they’ll be reprocessed like more easily scanned, three-dimensional HDPE #2 shapes like bottles and jugs.

“All of the curbside recycling picked up by the city goes to a MRF, so the problem is not that it’s not routed through a MRF,” Sabrina Culyba, editor of Recycle This Pittsburgh, a recycling advocacy group, tells VinePair via email. “But MRFs use sorting equipment and a lot of plastic items won’t make it through the sorting process successfully.” That’s why in Pittsburgh, PakTech handles aren’t currently accepted in curbside recycling at all, she adds.

Credit: Paktech

Closing the loop?

None of this is news to PakTech. “It’s difficult for a lot of facilities to recycle these handles,” says Hoar. “It’s been a pretty big frustration on our end.” Which brings us back to the company’s collection program. In 2018, aiming to sidestep the MRF morass and give more of its handles a better shot at actually being recycled, PakTech piloted its own recycling program, partnering with breweries willing to serve as drop-off points for customers’ used toppers.

“We said ‘screw it, let’s build [a system] on our own dime, and see if this works,’” Hoar says. According to PakTech’s marketing materials, there are around 500 breweries currently involved in the program across the country, with another five to 10 coming aboard each week.

The idea is to create a take-back program for PakTech handles that sidesteps the pitfalls of the American recycling system writ large. It operates on the theory that, if drinkers are willing to sort the toppers themselves at home (which many of them are), then bring their personal PakTech stacks back to dedicated checkpoints, that would allow the material to essentially avoid the recycling system and be delivered straight to a reprocessor. And make no mistake, once it gets there, HDPE #2 is very recyclable, and according to Johnson at RRS, has “huge value to American manufacturing.” Because drinkers have already done the hard work of winnowing paper, adhesive, and other contaminants out of their stacks of handles, they’re prime feedstock that reprocessors will pay for by the pound.

“In the best-case scenario [breweries participating in PakTech’s program] can actually sell it back to that plastic recovery facility,” Hoar says. “Not saying that there’s much profit involved, but enough to cover the costs and maintain a third, fourth life for these handles.”

For the breweries, liquor stores, and supermarkets that want to participate, it works just like Shea at Zero Gravity described. They contact PakTech, the firm ships out a bin and some promotional posters (at no cost to the retailer), and customers drop off their handles for recovery. “The process was very easy,” she says.

Will it solve the PakTech paradox? TBD. “There are incredibly successful take-back programs, but usually it’s in a very controlled loop,” says Johnson. Nespresso’s program, for example, yields a higher recycling rate than the national average (which, according to the EPA, clocked a dismal 23.6 percent for all materials in 2018, the most recent year for which that figure is available), but it’s more expensive to run than a curbside program because customers literally mail spent pods back to the company. Barring mail — which works with the small, aluminum espresso capsules in a way that might not for the larger 4- and 6-pack handles— for a take-back program to really work, it must “have the infrastructure to collect from all the potential places it might go,” said Johnson.

PakTech’s program doesn’t meet that mark yet. As a voluntary effort, the drop-off points aren’t evenly dispersed geographically; they tend to cluster in major cities, and are particularly dense in PakTech’s backyard in the Pacific Northwest. “The whole recycling program, we just kind of started it up and it became a beast of its own, so we really rely on communication with customers who say ‘we don’t have this in our area,’” to establish drop-offs, says Hoar. A VinePair analysis of PakTech’s listings shows 10 states have no drop-off locations, while another seven feature just one or two locations for the entire state. Where the drop-off points don’t exist, Hoar hopes customers will encourage their local breweries to inquire with the company to set them up.

“We want this to succeed, and we don’t just want to ship somebody [a bin] knowing that they can’t recycle” the handles they collect, he says. (Maybe not in all cases, though: “Support from PakTech has been minimal,” Brigham says.)

Where they do exist, PakTech’s recovery bins seem popular. “It’s something our customers seem to appreciate,” says Bryan Grigsby, who handles sales and marketing at Oklahoma City’s Elk Valley Brewing Company, which has been a drop-off location since December 2018. “We use it ourselves on a pretty regular basis, as I’m breaking apart 6-packs or making sample packs for an account or something.” (Many breweries and bottle shops repack 4- and 6-packs by hand with recollected handles.) Hoar warns that used handles could cause trouble if fed through automated applicators, but affirms that as long as a handle “looks good,” this type of direct reuse is a viable path. And the handles are sturdy: At East Brother Beer Co. in Richmond, Calif., cofounder Rob Lightner estimates only about 10 percent of the PakTech carriers they take in are broken beyond reuse.

Low-volume hand-packing aside, dropping your handles off at a collection bin may not secure them safe passage to a new life.

In an ideal world, participating breweries return the PakTech feedstock they’ve collected directly to reprocessors. Sometimes, those firms will take delivery of small, inconsistent loads: For example, Deschutes’ Bend, Ore., location sends the handles it recovers to The Broomsmen, a local recycling organization that accepts PakTech drop-offs from individuals, small businesses, and breweries alike. In other markets, those businesses require minimums too high for individual breweries to meet — “by the truckload,” as Shea discovered. (In other markets, Hoar says, neighboring breweries have successfully teamed up to consolidate collections and meet minimums together, something Shea hopes to explore.)

If brewers can’t find a reprocessor to take the handles, or don’t have the space or nearby brewery partners to consolidate collections to meet minimums, then what? Oklahoma City has no commercial recycling program, Grigsby tells me, so when the bin is full, Elk Valley employees bring the recollected toppers home to recycle curbside. If the MRF they wind up at can handle the handles, they’ll be recycled. If not, well, you know the deal. Routing them through the curbside program puts the handles in the same jeopardy as Brigham’s at Thorn, thousands of miles away.

It’s these kinds of inconsistencies, coupled with the fact that much more beer is sold off-premise than through taprooms (particularly in 2020), that drive skepticism of the program’s efficacy for Greenpeace’s Hocevar. “It feels like ‘yes, but,’” he says. “Since so many [6-packs with PakTech handles] are sold in supermarkets, it seems that it’s going to be a really small portion” of customers that actually knows about, much less follows through on, the collection program. As it stands, he continues, “PakTech is producing a huge number of single-use throwaway plastic items that are going to end up in landfills, incinerators, and the environment. We need to be able to do better than that, at this point.”

His suggestion? Calling on your favorite local breweries and asking them to consider other packaging options that don’t involve any plastic, recycled or otherwise. (There are a few, though none nearly as ubiquitous as PakTech, let alone cardboard cartons or old-school plastic rings.) But you may not want to do that, given the costs and logistical challenges associated, not to mention the fact that craft breweries got walloped during the pandemic and are currently in recovery mode, anyway. And depending on your philosophy about recycling — is it a good system worth fixing, or an inherently flawed one designed to provide cover for planet-killing pollution? — you may see PakTech as part of a sustainable solution rather than the plastic problem.

That’s very much how PakTech sees itself. In response to Hocevar’s criticism, the company issued VinePair a written statement from its sustainability officer, Gary Panknin, disputing the notion that the company was profiting off throwaway plastic. ”By utilizing our products it is contributing to keeping plastics out of the environment. In fact, PakTech has currently kept the equivalent of over half a billion milk jugs from being displaced into the environment and eliminated the depletion of resources needed to make new plastic material,” he said. “PakTech handles are not single-use throw away items.”

They certainly shouldn’t be, given HDPE #2’s recyclability. And it must be emphasized again that PakTech is neither responsible for fixing all of recycling’s woes, nor the only company trying to develop a market — in the beer space and beyond — for recycled plastics. But the next time you see a stack of the company’s popular handles, remember: All that plastic has gotta go somewhere, and just because it can be recycled doesn’t automatically mean it will be. “Ideally, we’ll be able to work together as a brewing community, and find a solution that is both environmentally conscious and logistically doable for most,” says Shea at Zero Gravity. For the craft brewing industry, whether such a solution includes PakTech’s recycled plastic handles long-term remains to be seen.

The article The PakTech Plastic Paradox appeared first on VinePair.

source https://vinepair.com/articles/paktech-plastic-paradox/

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 7 years

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Chapter 16?? I don't know. There's fluff!!

Despite the fact that Carla had called him and told him Eren wanted to see him, it wasn't until the following week that Levi finally gave in. After what had happened after he'd kissed the teen, Levi been certain that Eren didn't want anything at all to with him. So it had taken him all that time to summon up every bit of courage he had to visit the boy. Armed with a dozen red roses, that he'd chosen himself, and a new phone for Eren to starve off the boy's boredom, Levi was now awkwardly hovering in front of Eren's door. It was stupid. All he had to was twist the knob and let himself in... so why was it so goddamn hard.

Jumping as the knob in question began to turn, Levi retreated away from it just as two teens appeared from Eren's room. Given he didn't know Eren's friends outside of what Carla and Eren had told him, he could only assume the pair was Armin and Mikasa. Remaining stock still until the pair reached the elevator, he then scolded himself for being so stupid and marched over to the door, before letting himself into Eren's room and breathing as sigh of relief. His heart was racing liked he'd just run a marathon and his palms were unusually damp. Fuck. He was acting like a shitty teenager with a crush. He knew for a fact Eren loved him... and even if the boy didn't remember his confession, Carla said she'd explained it all in a way that Eren could understand. Part of him wished she'd explained it to him too, because he had no words to describe the scope of all the shitty feelings that Eren had dredged up inside of him. Catching his eye, Carla smiled as she rose and walked over to him

"Hey Levi, he's just fallen asleep"

Great. All that and Eren was sleeping

"I guess..."

"I have some errands to run so you'll be right watching over him, right? He's got his first attempt at getting out of bed at 2, so I'll be back for that"

Levi nodded mutely

"Good. Oh, those roses are lovely. I'm sure he'll love them"

Kissing him on the cheek, Carla darted back to grab her handbag and kissed his cheek again as she left. It took his brain a few moments to realise what had actually happened at that he was alone with Eren once again. Forcing his body to move, some what stiffy, Levi made his way over to Eren's bedside. The teen looked so much better than the last time he'd seen him, and his smell no longer carried so many hurt tones. Placing the roses on Eren's hospital table, Levi set the phone down next to them. He had no idea what happened to Eren's old one, and the teens bag was probably laying somewhere in landfill by now, so he'd brought a new one for Eren and set it up with the same number he used to have before. With a little, lot, of help from google, he'd also been able to set it up so all of Eren's purchases and stuff were linked to his bank card.

Aside from hiding at home like a coward, he'd also been in contact with the government over Eren. Grisha had actually submitted a medical report in their favour, and they were given a 9 month reprieve on the whole breeding issue. However, if at that time, Eren didn't fall pregnant within 3 months, a new omega was to be sent to replace him. It was sickening that they could openly support kids having kids just because they wanted more alpha and omega children in the world. They made a big speech about how omegas were "oh so special", but did nothing about the way they were shunned or treated like crap. It was a pile of contradictions sitting in a pit of vipers, and no matter how disgusted it left him, he couldn't change the laws. Leaning forwards, Levi took Eren's hand in his and laid his head on top of it. The alpha's exhaustion finally catching up with him, and he was lulled to sleep by Eren's soft snores.

Waking up with a groan Levi pulled away from Eren's hand in embarrassment, only to find the kids bright green eyes staring down at him

"Sorry. I didn't mean to fall asleep on you"

Offering him a small smile, Eren nodded

"It's ok. You smell really tired"

Sitting back and stretching, he shook his head

"I'm fine. More importantly, how are you feeling?"

"Like I'm sick of this bed. They want me to get up and try walking today, but I think I've fused into the bed"

Fuck. Why was his heart racing over Eren's words? It was bloody ridiculous

"I hate to break this to you, but I don't know how we're going to get that bed into the apartment"

Eren hummed as if considering it, before wriggling and sitting up a little straighter

"Yeah. I don't know. I kind of feel like I'm cheating on my bed at home, so I probably shouldn't introduce it to its replacement"

Home. Eren had called the apartment home

"Did you bring the roses? They're beautiful"

"I. Yeah. I'm sorry about what happened. It was a shitty thing to do"

"What kissing me?"

"No. Well. Only if you want it to be"

Eren let out a low laugh

"No. It was confusing. Everything's been so confusing since I woke up. I don't feel like I was asleep for two weeks"

"You smell like it"

Letting out a huff, Eren reached for the roses

"Did Isabel choose them?"

"No. I did. I wanted to say I'm sorry"

"I'm pretty sure red roses say "I love you" not "I'm sorry", but I'll accept your apology"

"Eren..."

"Levi. It's ok. I get that you don't know how to do this whole emotions thing. So thank you for the roses, they really are beautiful"

God. Eren really was just as bad as he was. Rising to his feet, Eren looked up at him in surprise

"I. I like you brat"

"I like you too?"

God. Why were three little words so hard?

"No. I mean. God. Fuck"

Throughly done with embarrassing himself, he turned to leave

"Levi, wait"

"What, so I can embarrass myself some more?"

"I get what you're trying to say..."

"But it doesn't mean the same thing if I'm not the one saying it"

"It does to me"

Looking back at Eren, the teen stared at him with such sincerity that his mouth went dry and he was sure his heart was pounding so loud that Eren could hear it. Caught in the boy's spell, he couldn't move

"I love you Levi. And I know you can quite English the words right now, but I get the feeling you're trying to tell me you love me too"

God damn kid. Who did he think he was? Turning a perfectly good alpha into a mute fool? Giving the barest of nods, he was rewarded by Eren reaching out his hand towards him

"Will you stay? I... I've been kind of lonely without you"

The way he threw himself into the visitors chair was less than graceful, even causing Eren to snort, but his omega smelt so fucking happy... his omega... Eren was his... like really his

"Are you ok over there?"

"Oh. What?"

Eren snorted lightly. The teen then places the roses down as he slid himself over so he was against the bar of the bed

"Here, come sit up here so I don't have to look down when I talk to you"

"Eren, I don't know..."

"Levi, relax. I'm just tired of looking up or down to talk to people"

Against his own better judgement Levi toed his shoes off, before climbing up to sit next to Eren. Unsure what to do next, his whole body was tense and he had the feeling like he needed to bolt

"God. You're so stiff"

Laughing at his own words, Eren rested his head against Levi's should as he took his hand

"Does your shoulder still hurt?"

"No. Not really"

"Mmm, that's good. I was so relieved when I realised how lucky you had been"

"I'd trade places with you in a heartbeat"

Eren was so soft and warm, and Levi wondered if it was everyone who felt this nice or just Eren. Surely it was just Eren

"I know you would. I... I didn't want you to see me like this. I feel like I'm always showing you all the wrong sides of me"

"Imagine how I feel then. Falling for a kid half my age"

"Don't say it like that. It sounds wrong"

"How else am I supposed to say it?"

"I don't know. But I know I don't want a building falling on top of me for my next birthday"

"Technically we got out of the rubble on your birthday"

"Apparently you were holding my hand the whole time"

Great. Who the fuck told Eren something embarrassing as that?

"You grabbed my hand first"

"Is that your way of saying next time a building falls on us, you don't want me to hold your hand?"

"No. Besides, there isn't going to be a next time"

"That's nice to know. Levi... um..."

Eren tensed as he drew away and Levi frowned as he looked towards his omega

"What is it?"

"Do you really still want me? Even if we can never..."

"Yeah. I do..."

"Because I'm totally not ready for that side of things, but cuddling up to you is kind of nice"

"I've never done that kind of thing either... so I'm in no rush"

Eren nodded before slowly lowering himself back to rest against Levi's shoulder

"And..."

"And?"

"I want to wait until I'm out of here for a do over on that kiss"

"Was it that bad?"

"No. I... if I have to go through all this physio therapy and that... I just want it to all be worth it in the end"

Shit. Eren's words were so adorable that he kind of wanted to kiss the teen right now, but he also wanted Eren to know he respected his choices

"Ok... any other rules and stipulations?"

"No, but I wouldn't say no if you brought me cake..."

"Seriously?"

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sciencespies · 5 years

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Can science break its plastic addiction?

https://sciencespies.com/environment/can-science-break-its-plastic-addiction/

Can science break its plastic addiction?

Lucy Gilliam has an infectious passion for environmental action. Today, she works in Brussels on environmental transport policy. But in the early 2000s, she was a molecular microbiologist in Hertfordshire. Like many in her field, Gilliam got through a lot of disposable plastics. It had become a normal part of 21st-century science, as everyday as coffee and overtime.

Gilliam was, in her words, a “super high user” of the sort of plastic, ultra-sterilized filter pipettes that could only be used once. Just as so many of us do in our domestic lives, she found she was working with what anti-pollution campaigners call a “produce, use, discard” model. The pipettes would pile up, and all that plastic waste just seemed wrong to her.

Science’s environmental impact had begun to worry her. It wasn’t just a matter of plastics. She also wanted to know why there weren’t solar panels on the roof of the new lab building, for example, and why flying to conferences was seen more as a perk than a problem. “I used to bitch about it over coffee all the time,” Gilliam tells me. “How can it be that we’re researching climate science, and people are flying all over the place? We should be a beacon.”

She tried to initiate recycling programs, with some success. She invited the suppliers in to discuss the issue, and worked out ways the research teams could at least return the boxes pipettes came in for re-use, even if the pipettes themselves would still be used and discarded. It felt like a battle, though. Sensing that progress was likely to be slow, she started to ask herself where exactly she could make change happen, and moved to work in environmental policy.

Scientific research is one of the more hidden users of disposable plastics, with the biomedical sciences a particularly high-volume offender. Plastic petri dishes, bottles of various shapes and sizes, several types of glove, a dizzying array of pipettes and pipette tips, a hoard of sample tubes and vials. They have all become an everyday part of scientific research. Most of us will never even see such equipment, but we all still rely on it. Without it, we wouldn’t have the knowledge, technologies, products and medicines we all use. It is vital to 21st-century lives, but it is also extremely polluting.

In 2015, researchers at the University of Exeter weighed up their bioscience department’s annual plastic waste, and extrapolated that biomedical and agricultural labs worldwide could be responsible for 5.5 million tonnes of lab plastic waste a year. To put that in context, they pointed out it’s equal to 83 percent of the plastic recycled worldwide in 2012.

The problem with plastic is that it is so durable; it won’t decompose. We throw it in the rubbish, it stays there. It is thought that there may now be more Lego people on Earth than actual people, and these minifigs will outlive us all. When plastic products like these minifigs—or pipettes, bottles or drinking straws—do eventually break down, they stick around as small, almost invisible fragments called microplastics, which also come from cosmetics and clothing fibers. A 2017 study found microplastics in 81 percent of tap water samples globally. In the past few years, in mountain ranges in the U.S. and France, researchers even found microplastics in rain. They have recently been found in the Arctic, too.

Modern science has grown up with disposable plastics, but times are changing. This autumn, the first wave of young people to follow the Swedish climate activist Greta Thunberg and go on “school strike for the climate” started undergraduate degrees. Universities can expect these young people to bring fresh and sometimes challenging questions about how scientific research is conducted. At the same time, many of those from Generation Z (those born from the mid-1990s onwards) are now starting Ph.D.s, and millennials (born from the early 1980s) are leading more and more labs. As more universities challenge themselves to eradicate disposable plastics, as well as to go zero-carbon, in the next few years or decades, scientific waste is increasingly being put under the microscope.

In a sign of how far things have moved on since Gilliam left her career in research, last November the University of Leeds pledged to go single-use-plastic-free by 2023. Recently, UCL has announced it will follow suit, with the only slightly less ambitious target of 2024. These new policies won’t just banish disposable coffee cups from campus, but a lot of everyday scientific equipment too.

Lucy Stuart, sustainability project officer at Leeds, says that reaction among researchers has been mixed, but they are gradually making progress. “For us, as a university, we are here to inspire the next generation,” she says. “Also, we are a research-based institution that is creating groundbreaking innovation every day, so we didn’t want to say the solutions aren’t possible, because we are the people that help create those solutions.”

The ambitious target has helped focus everyone’s attention, as has the clear sign that it has support all the way through the institution from the top of university management down. However, “We don’t want to implement top-down policies,” Stuart emphasizes. “We want individual researchers and employees to take ownership and look at the problem within their area, and then make a change.”

Elsewhere, many scientists are already pushing ahead on their own initiative. When David Kuntin, a biomedical researcher at the University of York, was discussing plastic waste with his lab mates, he soon found he wasn’t the only one who had noticed how much they were getting through.

“Using plastics on a daily basis—in science, it is kind of impossible to avoid nowadays. And someone just said, ‘Oh, we could fill a room after a week!’ and it got us discussing what we could do.”

One reason lab plastics are such a sticky problem is that they can get contaminated with the biological or chemical matter being researched; you can’t simply put them in the campus recycling bins with your coffee cup. Usually, lab waste plastics are bagged and autoclaved—an energy- and water-hungry sterilization process—before being sent to landfill. But, Kuntin says, not all plastic waste is too contaminated to recycle. Rather than simply classing everything as hazardous, straight off, he and his colleagues did an audit of the plastic they used, to see what they could decontaminate.

“The contamination we deal with is probably less dangerous than a moldy tin of beans you might have in your recycling after a few weeks,” Kuntin says. So, just as the team had learned that they had to wash their tins of beans before they put them in the council recycling bin, they learned ways to decontaminate their lab waste, too.

They developed a “decontamination station” with a 24-hour soak in a high-level disinfectant, followed by a rinse for chemical decontamination. They also looked at the plastics they were buying, to pick ones that would be easier to recycle. As a result of these measures, they’ve reduced the plastic they were previously sending to landfill by about a tonne a year.

“That’s 20 workers, 20 of us,” he says, sounding as if he still doesn’t quite believe that so few researchers could pile up so much waste. “We used a tonne of plastic that we can recycle.” They worked out it was enough to fill 110 bathtubs. And because they have also cut down how much equipment has to be autoclaved, they are saving energy and water, too.

“I think as scientists, we need to be responsible about what we’re doing,” Kuntin tells me. Not least, he says, because it is public money they are spending. “You can’t, with a clean conscience, just be using a tonne of plastic.”

At the University of Bristol, technicians Georgina Mortimer and Saranna Chipper-Keating have also set up schemes for sorting and recycling lab waste. “The waste in the lab was very easy for people to see. They were like, ‘I do this at home,'” says Mortimer.

They have been trialling glove and ice pack recycling through a company that specializes in hard-to-recycle waste, including contact lenses, crisp packets and cigarette butts as well as the sorts of plastics that come out of labs. They are keen to think more about re-use and reduction, too, knowing that recycling can only take them so far. They have worked out how they can bulk buy whenever possible, to cut down on packaging waste, for example.

Plastics is only part of the sustainable lab puzzle for them. “We have a lot of ULT freezers, ultra-low temperature freezers,” Mortimer says. The freezers “have thousands, thousands of samples going back more than 20 years”. And they are all stored at minus 80ºC. Or at least they used to be. Anna Lewis, sustainable science manager at Bristol, showed them some research from the University of Colorado Boulder, demonstrating that most samples can be safely stored at minus 70, saving up to a third of the energy. They have now raised the temperature of their ULT freezers.

The Bristol technicians have also been thinking about what they’re storing in these freezers, how, and whether it needs to be there. “There are samples that have just been left there for years,” says Mortimer. We’ve been discovering what these actually are, if they’re still usable, consolidating the space.” This hasn’t just saved energy and money, it’s also made working with the freezers more manageable. It’s simply easier to find things.

Martin Farley held the first lab sustainability post in the UK, at the University of Edinburgh back in 2013. He now specializes in ways research labs can become more sustainable, working in a similar role to Lewis at a couple of London universities. He first got into the issue because of plastics, but quickly found a whole range of issues to work on.

Farley points out that these ULT freezers can use as much energy as a house. So if you’re worried about energy use in the houses in your street, you should be worried about it in the fridges in your university too. Ultimately, as the climate emergency intensifies, Farley argues, “every facet of society needs to change”.

Labs might not be a “behemoth” like the oil and gas industry, he says, but they have a significant and often ignored environmental impact. In a research-intensive university, Farley reckons the labs will account for about two-thirds of the energy bill. If a university is looking to reduce its energy use, research sciences are a good place to start.

“We have people recycling at home, and doing nothing in their labs. I did a rough back-of-the-envelope calculation,” he tells me, and, depending on your research area, “your impact on the environment is 100–125 times more than at home.”

Tracing back through the history of science, it’s hard to tell exactly when disposable plastics arrived in labs. “That’s a job of work to be done, to figure out when plastic starts to get used in scientific instruments, scientific material culture, and how, and how it changes,” says Simon Werrett, a historian at UCL who specializes in the materials of science. He says that there’s plastic in a lot of historical scientific objects, but because museums don’t catalog items in those terms, it’s hard to date it exactly. Still, he suspects science’s plastic problem followed everyone else’s.

Production of the thing we call plastic started in the late 19th century. Today, we’re increasingly used to seeing plastic as a threat to wildlife, but back then, if anything synthetic products saved nature from being chewed up by human consumption. As the game of billiards became popular, manufacturers looked for a way to produce the balls from something more reliable than the trade in ivory. One firm launched a $10,000 competition to find an alternative material, which led to the patenting of celluloid (a mix of camphor and gun cotton) by American inventor John Wesley Hyatt in 1870.

Hyatt formed the Celluloid Manufacturing Company with his brother Isaiah, and developed a process of “blow molding”, which allowed them to produce hollow tubes of celluloid, paving the way for mass production of cheap toys and ornaments. One of the advantages of celluloid was that it could be mixed with dyes, including mottled shades, allowing the Hyatts to produce not just artificial ivory but coral and tortoizeshell too.

At the turn of the century, the ever-expanding electrical industry was running low on shellac, a resin secreted by the female lac bug which could be used as an insulating material. Spotting a market, Leo Baekeland patented an artificial alternative in 1909, which he named Bakelite. This was marketed in the 1920s as “the material of a thousand uses”, soon joined by a host of new plastics throughout the 1930s and 1940s too. Nylon, invented in 1935, offered a sort of synthetic silk, useful for parachutes and also stockings. Plexiglass was helpful in the burgeoning aviation industry. Wartime R&D put rocket boosters on plastic innovation, and just as plastic products speedily started to fill up the postwar home, a plethora of plastic goods entered the postwar lab, too.

Werrett emphasizes that today’s problems are a product not just of plastics but of the emergence of cultures of disposability. We didn’t used to throw stuff away. Disposability predates plastics slightly. Machines of the late industrial revolution, around the middle of the 19th century, made cloth and paper much easier to produce. At the same time, people were becoming more and more aware, and worried, about the existence of germs—for example, after John Snow identified the Broad Street water pump as the source of a cholera outbreak in Soho, London, in 1854. Just as Joseph Lister pioneered the use of antiseptics in medicine from the 1860s onwards, disposable dressings gradually became the norm. “So you have things like cotton buds, and condoms and tampons, and sticking plasters,” Werrett explains, as well as paper napkins and paper cups. As mass production advanced, it soon became cheaper and easier to throw things away than to clean and re-use them—or pay someone else to.

Cloth- and paper-based disposable products arrived over a relatively short period, but the new throwaway culture they instigated paved the ground for the plastic problem we have today. Paper cups and straws soon became plastic ones, and the idea of “produce, use, discard” became normal.

Still, the introduction of disposable plastics in postwar science and medicine wasn’t necessarily simple. Looking at medical journals from the 1950s and 1960s, Werrett has found a few complaints.

“There’s a tradition that surgeons have a pair of gloves, and they use that for their whole career,” he explains. These gloves would have been rubber—first introduced by William Stewart Halsted at Johns Hopkins Hospital in Maryland in the 1890s—but designed to last, boiled for sterilization and repaired rather than disposed of in favor of a new pair. “By the end of their career, they’ve got repairs and stains,” Werrett says, “and that’s a sign or mark of your experience as a surgeon.” Then disposable gloves came in, and not everyone was happy to leave these marks of experience behind.

Nurses had to be taught to throw things away, rather than keep them, he notes. “It wasn’t self-evident that disposability was a valuable thing. If anything, the default is to re-use things. You have to train people to see disposability as a valuable practice.”

For those looking for a plastic-free future for science, a technological fix could well be found in the history. Back in Bristol, Georgina Mortimer has been eyeing up the old glass cabinets. “We’re trying to get back into glassware, trying to make it cool again within our department,” she says, smiling.

In Brussels, Lucy Gilliam tells me about her grandmother, who worked in a hospital lab, and all the dishwashing assistance she had to support their use of glassware. “And now we do it all by ourselves. We’re like little research islands. And you know, plastic—and single-use disposable things—is filling the gap of people.

“There was a time when we were doing really advanced science without using plastics. And it’s not to say that all of the science that we do now can be done without plastics. But there is science that we were doing back then, and that we’re still doing now, that could be done without plastics.”

Plastic has become apparently indispensable for modern science. It can keep materials protected, even when we transport them. It keeps us out of them (for materials we don’t want to contaminate) and them out of us (for hazardous materials that might hurt us). It can be molded into a range of shapes. Some areas of science—not least DNA research—have grown up in an era of disposable plastics.

In some cases, though, a return to glass might be the answer. “Use glassware—it’s there, it’s available, it’s sterilised,” Mortimer enthuses. “All the universities will have a glass room just full to the ceilings of stuff that we can be using rather than plastics.” Along with Saranna Chipper-Keating, she has been tasked with producing a whole-life costing exercise on glass versus plastics. In theory, it should be cheaper to re-use glass than to buy plastics again and again, especially as there are often costs associated with dumping these plastics.

But re-using glass means it must be washed and sterilized, and that takes resources, too. This is a concern for Lucy Stuart in Leeds; they don’t want their plastic-free pledge to simply replace one environmental problem with another.

In York, David Kuntin is also concerned about the knock-on effects of switching back to glass. “Every day, we use reagents like cell culture media, a nutrient broth that cells thrive in,” he tells me. These broths have been developed for decades, and since most cells are grown on plastic, that’s what the reagents have been optimized for.

On top of this, researchers like Kuntin are interested in the finest details of cell behavior—and what they’re grown on could have an influence. “We know that cells are very responsive to their environment, and they can sense things like the roughness or stiffness of the surface they grow on,” he explains. Unexpected changes in behavior could be misinterpreted as a consequence of an experiment, when really it’s just that the cells are behaving differently on glass.

Another problem is how much time re-using glass could take. Disposable pipette tips are just quicker. And time, along with water and heat, could cost the lab money. Ultimately, though, they don’t know until they do a full analysis. “We could do a whole-life costing exercise, and it may well be that plastics are so much cheaper,” Anna Lewis says. “In which case, we would need subsidies.”

Lewis argues that any real change will require a change in how science is funded, with universities ideally needing to demonstrate some level of sustainability before they could apply for certain grant schemes. There is only so far they can go working with the goodwill and interest of a few enthusiasts. She sees scope to address this, if not in the next Research Excellence Framework (for assessing the quality of research in the UK) in 2021, then in the one after that. Whether the ecological crisis can wait for us to slowly negotiate yet another decade of science policy is another matter.

Martin Farley certainly sees a stronger appetite for change from the scientific community, compared to when he first started greening labs, back in 2013. “Five or six years ago, when I told my lab mates I was doing this, people laughed. There was a little bit of interest, like ‘Sure, I’ll recycle more’, and some jokes. Now, I get emails on almost a weekly basis. People out of the blue that are saying, ‘How can I do something? I want to do more.'”

The University of Leeds is keen to link with other organizations, too. They’ve created a network around Leeds, including other universities, the Yorkshire Ambulance Service, the city council, and Yorkshire Water. They are also in discussions with one of the national research councils. Stuart says these sorts of collaborations are essential if they want to address disposable plastics on campus, because everything that comes in is part of the broader local economy. But it’s also part of the whole point of the project, seeing themselves as “a civic university”, ensuring that their research and innovation is used in a way that benefits the local area.

For researchers wanting to dive into the problem of plastic waste on their own, though, Gilliam has some simple advice: “First of all, see if you can get some buddies. Send out a note and convene a little meeting. Say, ‘I’ve seen these things, I’m concerned about it, does anybody have any ideas?'” In the event that no one will engage with you, she suggests you just start segregating some of your plastic anyway, putting it in a box and sending it back, sharing a photo on social media as you go. You might well find comrades in other labs if not your own.

“Start by doing something different, even if it feels like it’s really small and really pointless. Even small actions like that can have a ripple effect.”

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Scientists, here’s how to use less plastic

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Citation: Can science break its plastic addiction? (2019, November 8) retrieved 8 November 2019 from https://phys.org/news/2019-11-science-plastic-addiction.html

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lostmagic · 7 years

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Prompt: Ben and Evie to Landfill by Daughter.

Cause this is torturous electricityBetween both of us and this isDangerous ‘cause I want you so muchBut I hate your gutsI hate you

“You’re late,” Ben noted when he heard the door to his office open without looking up from his papers.

“Yeah well, better late than never,” Evie hummed as she made her way to take her seat across from him at his desk. “Have you made any progress with the board since our last meeting?”

Ben finally looked up from his papers and she could read the answer on his face before he spoke. “I’ve been trying to convince them Eves, but they keep vetoing your list.”

Evie clenched her teeth in frustration. “You need to fix this, Ben. You already sent Dizzy a letter inviting her for next semester and I will not let you break that little girl’s heart. She needs to get out of there.”

He could hear the desperation in her voice for her friend and it only made him feel that much worse for his failure at convincing the council members to allow more VK’s to leave the Isle. Evie’s unwavering concern for others was one of her best qualities and Ben admired her for it. It was one of the things that would have made Evie such a great and benevolent queen. “I’m doing everything I possibly can to make sure-”

“Are you?” She cut him off bitterly. “Are you really doing everything in your power?”

“What kind of question is that?” He asked, unable to hide the offense in his voice.

Evie rolled her eyes and crossed her legs in her seat. “How much convincing can you possibly be doing for the VK’s when you’re busy showing Mal off to foreign dignitaries the majority of your time?”

“What the hell are you talking about? What does Mal have to do with any of this?”

“You’re such a boy,” Evie muttered under her breath, so low that Ben almost missed it.

Ben stood up from his desk and made his way to kneel in front of Evie, taking her small hands in his. “I know how much this project means to you, Eves, and I swear I am doing everything I possibly can to not let you down. I need two thirds of the council to approve the decision and right now we barely have half, so I’m going to need you to bare with me as I convince the rest of them what we already know. I’m going to get Dizzy off of that island just like I promised, alright? I just need some more time.”

Evie felt her eyes well up with tears and they were falling before she could stop them. She hated crying, especially in front of other people, but thinking of the little girl being stuck with her wicked mother and grandmother for any longer broke her heart. “You don’t understand Ben, she needs to get out of there! I promised her I would get her out of there and I can’t let her down.”

He embraced her shaking body and ran his fingers through her perfect blue curls to try to soothe her. He tried to ignore the jolt he felt when she grabbed his arm and held it tightly. “I promised you I would make this happen and I’m not going to break that promise, do you understand?”

She looked up at him with mascara running down her cheeks, but he still thought she was beautiful. “You were only on the Isle for a day and you almost died. That little girl has been there her whole life and I just left her there.”

“You didn’t leave her,” he cooed, wiping a stray tear away with his thumb. His hand lingered on her cheek and she couldn’t help but lean into it. “You have a big heart, Evie.”

She laughed awkwardly, but they stayed in that position, him holding her and looking at her like she was a precious jewel. She felt the heat of his gaze and saw his eyes briefly flicker to her lips before meeting hers again. That was all it took to bring her back to reality and remember who was holding her. This was the king, her best friend’s boyfriend, and most importantly the man that was failing her. She cleared her throat and broke their gaze to look at her shoes. “Tell me who is left to convince and I’ll do it. I need to get Dizzy off of the Isle.”

#this was weird to write #writing new characters is always so weird #benvie #is that their ship name?#ben descendants #Ben #Evie #evie descendants #descendants #prompts #my writing

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voymedia1 · 6 years

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Alexandra Riggs Interview Oobi

Who are you and what business did you start?

I’m Alexandra Riggs, a textiles and graphic designer. I started a business called Oobi over 15 years ago. Oobi is an ethical manufacturer of children’s fashion from newborn to 12 years. We are SEDEX rated and have a 5 star Good On You rating too. We specialise in 100% cotton, hand printed garments created to inspire children with colour, shape, movement and comfort.

What’s your backstory and how did you come up with the idea?

I studied art history and graphic design at university. After my PhD I took my screen printing skills to market with hand printed fabrics that we made into children’s clothing. I came up with the idea because of my passion for hand printing. My style for design is very happy, fun and colourful. It made sense to use my skills to make children’s fashion – plus I adore kids and love the freedom of expression that comes with designing for them.

Describe the process of designing, prototyping, and manufacturing the product.

It starts with sketching or finding a vintage print (or collaborator) and reworking the design. I sketch and draw for weeks and am never anywhere without my sketch book. Once my designs are finalised I turn them into graphic prints and choose the colours from a Pantone book. We then start to develop the prototypes for the prints and that is quite a long process where we redesign and recolour until they’re perfect. During that process we also come up with garments that we feel will be suitable for the fabrics, so that it’s very holistic. We let the fabric print ’speak’ to us in a way, and the collection is created.

From there we start to make samples and do extensive fittings with children of all sizes and ages. Once that’s done, the patterns are finalised. We then source our cottons and print in Jaipur, India. Once our fabrics are printed we start production of our ranges. During this stage there might be other changes that are made, like buttons that we design and create, dying trims like lace or ribbons, and sometimes tweaking designs once the samples are made in the correct fabrics.

Production of our garments is very relaxed and quite slow – we’re the antithesis of “Fast Fashion!” That is totally not our style. We don’t believe in pushing our seamstresses to work too fast. They work under internationally accepted standards which includes 8 hour days with a one hour lunch break and two 15 minutes tea breaks. Happy workers make happy garments. Plus our garments are designed to last and be passed down from child to child, sister to sister, friend to friend. We don’t design for landfill, we design for longevity!

Once production is completed, garments are packed carefully (we use minimal waste so no plastic packaging) and sent by sea to Australia and around the world to our distributors. We have stores in over 30 countries.

Describe the process of launching the online store/business.

The process takes a really long time because we like to ensure that we put as much information on each product as possible. So you’ll find extensive fit notes, the spec sheets and patterns, all the lengths and sizes in centimetres and inches plus multiple photos from our photo shoots, with garments shot from many angles.

We also make sure to give the right amount of information in written form, with notes about the features and highlights of each product. We integrate our Shopify site with TradeGecko because we have a huge warehouse with a lot of SKUs that need to be managed. That then integrates with our shipping app and means that all garments need to be weighed too.

Sometimes we want to do a giveaway with a garment, for example, we’re giving away Bunny Tail brooches with Bunny Print garments this season, so that needs to be managed between our platforms and also that message needs to be clearly and simply conveyed.

Finally we start to sneak peek photos of the garments on our social platforms and construct a newsletter and press release. During launch week we hire extra staff to manage customer service and pick and pack as those weeks are very hectic.

All garments need to be adequately tagged for SEO, for our search engine on site and also for our size filter. This is quite a long process too and we usually hire college students to come and help us out with that when it’s busy in the office.

Since launch, what has worked to attract and retain customers?

Great customer service, high quality product, ethical manufacturing and a great experience online and post-purchase gives us an excellent return rate. It usually sits around 70% which means that basically, if you purchase from us, you’re more likely than not to come back. Our customers love the seamless experience and I believe that they really love our ethics.

In 2012 we also launched a “one-for-one” program whereby we donate a gift or garment to an Australian child in need for EVERY new-season purchase. In that way, our customers know that not only have they made their child happy with our garments, but that they’ve helped to put a smile on the face of a child in need. In Australia, we work with charities who give children an Oobi gift – and this could be their first every birthday or Christmas gift in their life. This knowledge convinces us that, even when it’s difficult to facilitate, we are doing a great thing and something important for our community.

How are you doing today and what does the future look like?

We are achieving our goals of being a sustainable, ethical and charitable company. Our profit margin is not as big as other companies of our size but that is because we donate a lot of our profits in garments and charity. Our growth is incredible and every year we get a new customer base which includes wholesale customers, international, distribution and of course, our oobi.com.au customers. If we weren’t so charitable sure, we’d be more profitable, but that’s not why we do what we do. Our staff are proud and happy to work for a company that gives so much – and job satisfaction and culture is incredibly important.

What’s your average monthly revenue today and what do you project it to be in next 6 months?

Through starting the business, have you learned anything particularly helpful or advantageous?

Keeping interested, on top of technology and trends and ’steering the ship’ when you need to is crucial. If something’s not working, we pivot. It’s important not to get too caught up in how amazing you think something is, if it’s not working for you or for your customers. It’s ok to say “that didn’t work” and move on. What’s not ok is to be so one-minded that you push a platform, design or idea that isn’t right for your customers or your brand.

The other thing we’ve learned is to be as honest and transparent as we can. If something is going wrong, we face it. Usually that’s being supplied late. So we might say “launching March” but something takes longer than expected so we just say “we tried to launch March, it’s launching April”. Customers are disappointed but they will forgive you if you let them know. The other thing with transparency is that we invited SEDEX into our factory and allowed them to do a full audit of our staff, facilities, wages, environment. That was scary because we knew we’re doing great things, but maybe in an audit they uncover something that’s not going right. Well, we did get a 5 star rating, but of course there were areas where we needed to improve, so we did that too.

What platform/tools do you use for your business?

We are on Shopify and we have some great apps there. Our favourite is judge.me where our customers can write reviews. It’s not expensive and it allows our customers to share photos of their kids, verify that they are 100% genuine reviews and customers (it’s linked to the email address that is given when a customer places an order), and it integrates really well with Shopify. We also like Bold for their currency converter as we have a lot of international customers. It’s free too!

Advice for other entrepreneurs who want to get started or are just starting out?

It’s really important that you have enough capital to enable you to quit your job and even potentially work on your business without a salary for a while or, capital to expand if you grow quickly. Lots of great businesses go under because they don’t have a safety net. There are lots of ways to get crowd sourced funding for great ideas, or new ethical small building societies or banks who will give low-interest loans to entrepreneurs.

Are you looking to hire for certain positions right now?

We always keep our eye out for great staff but we also have longevity with our employees. I’m working with an incredible team of people who have been with me for many years – so they’re more like family! There are often new people who come on board, especially in social media or casual or part-time roles. We also love to work with interesting young designers, collaborate on fabric designs, work with photographers, bloggers, stylists – so they’re not staff, per se, but they do work with us on projects.

Where can we go to learn more about you?

We are @oobi on Instagram: instagram.com/oobi , @oobigirl on Facebook facebook.com/oobigirl and our URL is www.oobi.com.au

The post Alexandra Riggs Interview Oobi appeared first on Facebook Advertising Agency | Facebook Marketing Company.

from Facebook Advertising Agency | Facebook Marketing Company https://voymedia.com/alexandra-riggs-interview-oobi/

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rantsandaves · 7 years

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Audubon's Oriole & South Texas

Despite the cold, frigid beauty of Minnesota, Texas was calling my name. It was time to unthaw and pick up the birds I had missed during my first visit to the Lone Star State.

I left Duluth and drove down to Clear Lake, Iowa where a rare Yellow-billed loon had been reported. I arrived to be greeted by a nice winter chill and biting breeze. As I set up my scope at Clear Lake State Park, I was approached by a kind woman who invited me to bird with her group closer to the visitor's center and out of the wind. She introduced herself as Carolyn Fischer. I couldn't understand why that name seemed familiar until she informed me that she was the person who had originally found and reported the loon! I must've seen her name mentioned on the ABA rare bird alert. She had even better pictures on her phone than the ones posted on the ABA report, confirming that it was indeed a Yellow-billed Loon and not some distorted digiscoped photo of a Common Loon. We spent the day birding around the lake, but no Yellow-billed Loon was seen.

I usually don't tell other people that I'm attempting a big year, mostly because I don't want to give anyone the impression even for a second that I might be a good birder or that I know what the hell I'm doing. But I told Carolyn and I'm glad I did. As we went our separate ways, she asked me if I was warm enough, gave me a hug and told me she admired what I am doing. It's moments like these-- moments where people I hardly know go out of their way to be so kind-- that help keep me going. I camped near the lake, and despite the freezing temperatures, I felt warm the whole night.

From Iowa, I went to Nebraska as I considered the best way to navigate down south and to get a tire patched. I took this opportunity to meet a long-time friend who lives near Omaha. Robb and I had been internet friends since 2010 and although we were meeting for the first time, it felt as though we were being reunited. I took the truck in the next day and after waiting for many hours, they told me the tire looked good and sent me on my way.

I beelined it from Omaha to Mississippi, making a short pit-stop in Penn-Sylvania Prairie in Missouri for a Smith's Longspur. As I walked through the prairie, it was quiet and calm in a way I had never experienced. It was hauntingly lonely and thrillingly freeing with no one around as far as I could see. The birds jumped up through the grass, reminding me of the way the grasshoppers in the Arizona summer fling themselves from the pathways away from your feet.

Almost as soon as I crossed the state line from Arkansas to Mississippi, I was greeted by the balmy southern humidity. Back in Biloxi for the second time this year, I was able to see Mississippi's first state record of a Smooth-billed Ani!

From Biloxi, I went west to New Orleans. I was magically able to get ahold of my difficult-to-find (more difficult than a rare bird!) cousin Ashley again. While I waited for her to get out of work, I birded the Lake Pontchartrain Causeway in hopes of finding at least one of the Brown Boobies that had been reported around the lake. The Causeway is the largest bridge over water in the world, with two parallel bridges going north and south about 24 miles long. The northbound and southbound bridges have a few crossovers meant for emergency use only. These crossovers are not meant for watching birds, as I was kindly informed by a uniformed officer.

I met up with Ashley who serendipitously had an extra ticket to see the band Grizzly Bear. We had a great night (maybe too great) and the next morning I tried again for the Boobies. I noticed that the two of the crossovers now had police cars parked, either waiting to catch speeders or help those with an actual emergency, but there were two empty ones so I could turn around and change direction without having to repay the toll. I drove for what seemed like forever up and down the causeway, when I finally found one Brown Booby at mile marker 16. There was no way for me to stop, but I'm sure I managed to frustrate the drivers behind me as I drove slowly to watch the Booby fly out of sight.

I tried for Yellow Rails on my way out of Louisiana, and again at Anahuac when I arrived in Texas, but was disappointed. I found out about the Rice and Yellow Rail festival (Yellow Rail almost guaranteed!) about two days too late.

I drove through Texas the opposite direction from my very first visit, going from east to west. Driving through Houston to Aransas National Wildlife Refuge made real the photos and videos I had seen just a few months prior depicting the mark Hurricane Harvey had left on the area. The Aransas NWR visitors center was closed indefinitely due to the damage, but the refuge was still open to visitors.

The first time I visited Aransas was in April. At that time, I had been on the road for a month and I was still processing how exactly to navigate this journey on my own. I was struggling with learning how to be a better birder, with learning how to be self-sufficient, and with my anxiety. Aransas showed me Whooping Cranes for the first time in my life. These Cranes represented a story of fragile beauty, and I felt angry at my own species for letting these birds get so close to extinction. I remember trying to process all these emotions while sitting under Aransas' five hundred year old oak tree, staring at the Gulf of Mexico. I remember taking a deep breath and feeling so small by comparison to the sea, the tree, and the evolutionary history of the creatures of earth. And despite the chaos, I felt at peace.

I had to visit the tree again. As I rounded the corner, noticing the other fallen oaks, I hoped with all my might it was still standing. And although the mustang vines covering the tree had been damaged, the old oak still stood. I sat like I did in April and I took a deep breath. Staring out at the sea again, surrounded by the damage of an unthinkably powerful hurricane, I thought about the role humans play in the ecological community. I wonder if we can save ourselves the way we saved the cranes.

I met up with a fellow female solo traveler I had met in North Carolina. We got Tex Mex in her hometown of Corpus Christi and reminisced on our separate journeys. Afterwards, I set up camp on Padre Island National Seashore and fell asleep to the sound of the waves breaking about thirty feet away.

Time birding in South Texas is always well spent. To me, it's paradise. I love the bright and vibrant Green Jays, the clamoring of the Chachalacas, and the almost overwhelming biodiversity. I was finally able to see Altamira Orioles and Clay-colored Thrushes-- two fairly common Rio Grande Valley birds that somehow eluded me on my first trip. I spent just over a week in the RGV and was rewarded with Sprague's' Pipit, and White-collared Seedeater fairly easily.

The Tamaulipas Crow is a Mexican native making in a rare return to South Texas for the time being, and a few had been spotted hanging out at the Brownsville Landfill. There is a strange symbiosis between the landfill and birders-- the Brownsville Sanitary Landfill allows birders into the dump to hang out and watch birds. I'm sure the sanitation department doesn't fully understand why people want to hang out there, and I'm not sure I understand why the dump lets people hang out there. To me it seems like a lawsuit waiting to happen, but then again this is Texas and not California.

I arrived late one afternoon and hung around until sunset with no views of the crow. On the second morning, just after sunrise, I arrived to see birders up on the hill waving me down. I had just driven past the Tamaulipas Crow! I parked as safely as I could away from the garbage trucks and plow-tractors and snagged a few photos.

Although my trip to the RGV was highly successful, it was not without its frustrations. It took five separate attempts for me to see a Tropical Parula. I also spent many hours on several beautiful, clear days trying to turn hawks into Hook-billed Kites but my willpower alone could not do the trick. I tried to chase a reported Rose-breasted Becard to make up for the one I missed in AZ. I hoped for late Groove-billed Ani in Harlingen but no luck there either. And although it would've been an extremely lucky find, I still kept my eye out for Red-billed Pigeons.

The highlight of this South Texas trip was the secretive Audubon's Oriole- a bird whose northernmost range extends slightly into South Texas. On my second to last day in the valley, I traveled an hour northwest to Salineño, a spot right next to the Rio Grande known to attract the Audubon's. I spent a few hours waiting at the feeders with a birder named Mike. We watched the Green Jays and the Kiskadees mill around. An occasional Sharp-shinned Hawk would fly in to try to snag a Red-winged Blackbird and stir things up. As we watched, Mike and I talked about big year birders, about being traveling bird bums, and about listing as a hobby. Although I didn't get the Audubon's that day, it was an extremely rewarding experience.

I drove back to my airbnb in McAllen for the night and in the morning I tried again for the Audubon's, but this time a little closer. Birders I had met at the landfill told me they had seen an Audubon's Oriole hanging around the National Butterfly Center just a few miles down the road from where I was staying. I had visited there once before and decided to give it one more shot!

When I arrived, another birder told me he had seen the Audubon's Oriole the day prior, and it was hanging around with an Altamira Oriole. I hiked all around the property, looking at butterflies and although I didn't know their names I admired them all the same. I sat by the bird feeder station and watched the grackles and house sparrows duke it out over scattered seed. All of a sudden there was a flash of orange-- an Altamira Oriole! My heart started racing. Maybe the Audubon's is close by! I waited patiently and watched the Altamira fly north along the path. I quietly and slowly followed, but lost it. I stood in silence for a second then I heard an Oriole calling. It sounded more forlorn than an Altamira. I turned the corner and there it was, picking at the old fruit that was set out to attract butterflies! It stood still long enough for a photo and I was ecstatic. I watched it for a bit as it was following two Altamira Orioles around the gardens. Occasionally one of the Altamira's would try to chase it off and the Audubon would give a sad-sounding call. I know this is anthropomorphism, but I wanted to tell the Altamira to knock it off, leave the poor guy alone! But birds will be birds.

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automaticreviewwhispers-blog · 7 years

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Refurbished Wholesale Laptops

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