#international Monitor Award

[muppet-facts]

Muppet Fact #464

Jim Henson's The Storyteller series Has won 12 awards including the Emmy for Outstanding Children's Program (1987) and the Grand Award at the International Film and Television Festival of New York (1988).

The full list chronologically is:

39th Emmy Awards (1987): Outstanding Children's Program- for "Hans My Hedgehog."

Catholic Media Association's Gabriel Award (1987)- for "Hans My Hedgehog."

Chicago International Film Festival (1987): Golden Hugo Award for Children's Programming- for "Hans My Hedgehog."

Parent's Choice Award (1987): Best Broadcasting for Young People- for "Hans My Hedgehog."

The Ohio State Award (1987) for The Storyteller.

XII Resena Mundial de Acapulco (1987): Children's Programming Award- for "Hans My Hedgehog."

International Monitor Award (1988): Awarded to David Yardley for Best Editor in Children's Programing- for "Fearnot."

Houston International Film & Video Festival of the Americas (1988): Gold Medal- for "The Soldier and Death."

Chicago International Film Festival (1988): Golden Hugo Award for Children's Programming- for "Sapsorrow," "The Three Ravens," and "The Soldier and Death."

International Film and Television Festival of New York (1988): the Grand Award- for "The Soldier and Death."

BAFTA Award (1989): Best Children's Program - Entertainment/Drama Category.

BAFTA Award (1989): Outstanding Costume Design to Ann Hollowood and Polly Smith.

Sources:

Awards Nominees and Winners: 1987- 39th Emmy Awards. Outstanding Children's Program. Jim Henson's The Storyteller: Hans My Hedgehog." Emmys.com.

Jim Henson & The Muppets Awards and Honors Archive Master List. JHC Archives. Pages 9 and 10.

[batboyblog]

Things Biden and the Democrats did, this week. #5

Feb 9-16 2024

The Department of Education released the first draft for a wide ranging student loan forgiveness plan. After Biden's first attempt at student debt forgiveness was struck down at the Supreme Court in 2023, this new plan is an attempt to replace it with something that will hold up in court. The plan hopes to forgive debt for anyone facing "financial hardship" which has been as broadly defined as possible. Another part of the plan hopes to eliminate $10-20,000 in interest from all student loans, as well as a wide ranging public Information push to inform people of other forgiveness programs they qualify for but don't know about.

The House passed 1.2 Billion Dollars to combat human trafficking, including $175 million in housing assistance to human trafficking victims

The Department of Transportation announced $970 Million for improvements at 114 airports across 44 states and 3 territories. They include $40 million to O'Hare International in Chicago to improve passenger experience by reconfiguring TSA and baggage claims, and installing ADA compliant bathrooms(!). The loans will also go to connecting airports to mass transit, boosted sustainability, installing solar and wind power, and expanding service to under served committees around the country.

Medicare & Medicaid released new guidelines to allow people to pay out of pocket prescription drug coats in monthly installments rather than as a lump sum. This together with capping the price of certain drugs and penalties for drug companies that rise prices over inflation is expected to save the public millions on drug coasts and assure people don't pass on a prescription because they can't pay upfront

The EPA announced its adding 150 more communities to its Closing America's Wastewater Access Gap Community Initiative. 2.2 Million Americans do not have basic running water and indoor plumbing. Broken and unreliable wastewater infrastructure exposed many of those to dangerous raw sewage. These Americans live primarily in poor and rural communities, many predominantly Black communities in the south as well as those on tribal lands. The program is aiming to close the wastewater gap and insure all Americans have access to reliable clear water.

The White House announced deferred action for Palestinians in the US. This means any Palestinian living in the United States, no mater their legal status, can not be deported for any reason for the next 18 months.

The Department of Energy announced $60 million in investment into clean geothermal energy. The plan will hopefully lead to a 90% decrease in the coasts of geothermal. DOE estimates hold that geothermal might be able to power the hopes of 65 million Americans by 2050 making it a key step in the Biden administration plan for a carbon-free grid by 2035 and net-zero emissions by 2050.

The EPA launched $83 million to help improve air quality monitoring across America. With updated equipment local agencies will be better able to report on air quality, give more localized reports of bad air quality and the country will be better equipped to start mitigating the problem

The Department of Energy announced $63 million in investments in domestic heat-pump manufacturing. Studies have shown that heat-pumps reduce green house gases by 50% over the most efficient condensing gas boilers, as technology improves this could rise to 75% by 2030. Heat pump water heaters meanwhile are 2 to 3 times as energy efficient as conventional electric water heaters.

HHS awarded $5.1 million to organizations working with LGBTQI+ Youth and their Families. The programs focus on preventing homelessness, fighting depression and suicide, drug use and HIV prevention and treatment, as well as  family counseling and support interventions tailored for LGBTQI+ families.

The House passed two bills in support of the oppressed Uyghur minority in China. The "No Dollars To Uyghur Forced Labor" Act would prohibit the US government from spending any money on projects that source materials from Xinjiang. The Uyghur Policy Act would create a permanent post at the State Department to coordinate policy on Uyghur Issues, much like the special ambassador on antisemitism.

[eris-snow]

1. 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐒𝐞𝐞 𝐌𝐞?

Tags: bakugou x fem!reader, juxtaposition, angst, fluff, confusion

Remembering what life used to be like is akin to playing with fire. It's nostalgic, but if you're not careful, it burns.

“Have you heard about the ghost in the hall?”

Katsuki’s eyebrows furrows as his head snaps to Denki in confusion. “What?” He spits.

“You know, that rumour going around!” Denki says excitedly. “The school hall? The piano? It says that it’s haunted by a ghost!”

“Kaminari, you know that rumour is a load of hogwash,” sighs Kirishima as he plops himself beside his friend. “Someone probably made it up.”

“You guys don’t appreciate a good horror story!” Denki huffs.

“I don’t appreciate fuckery,” Katsuki states bluntly. “Now scram before I **make a horror story out of you.”

—

The classroom is quiet when people go out for recess. It’s not silent, but a void of chatter and life that it usually holds. The class monitor glances around the classroom, nods, and turns the lights off.

It’s funny that he misses one person who sits there, staring out of the window while sitting in her seat.

—

“What do you need all this shit for?” Katsuki grunts, putting down the boxes filled with god-knows-what. All Might gives him a small smile.

U.A.’s hall is futuristic and sleek. Due to the numerous windows, the room soaks up all the natural light from outside. Even with the lights off, He can see everything easily at a glance. Everything is minimalistic and aesthetic: puritan wood planks, round, white pillars and a roof so high he’s curious about how cleaners get up there. He’s surprised dust isn't falling down like snow.

“It’s trophies for the General Studies, Business and Support courses. Speech Day is coming soon, Young Bakugou,” All Might pats the box he hauled here, taped and sealed so no one can see the sparkly awards inside of it, “so Nezu required these trophies to be transferred here for the event. Thank you for helping me—”

“Yeah, yeah, it ain’t anything,” He huffs dismissively. “Go now, Izuku’s probably waiting at Gym Beta like the lost sheep he is.”

All Might nods, completely unfazed at his student’s blunt, unfiltered language. “Are you sure you can handle—”

“I faced the epitome of death,” Katsuki says flatly. “I think I can handle a couple of boxes.”

“Thank you once again, Young Bakugou!”

With a wave, he makes his way out of the dimly lit hall.

Bakugou exhales out a tired breath, refocusing on his task. After the war with Shigaraki, the heroes had busied themselves with the reconstruction of buildings and rebranding of heroes as a whole. Most of the time he spent while interning was boring as fuck—walk around blocks, help an old man walk down a flight of stairs or save a fucking cat from a short-ass tree, etc, etc.

A part of him was glad to be given a break given the situation, especially when he was first out of the hospital. His doctor was as stiff as a light pole, and even with Katsuki’s threats to stuff explosions down the guy’s throat, he refused to budge an inch about his no vigorous activity policy and dumb pills 3 times a day.

But come on. It’s been 15 bloody months after All For One decided to roll over with a bolder named Gigantomachia. 10, if you’re counting from Deku’s ‘All Might” moment of standing victorious on the battlefield with his fist in the air after Shigaraki laid unconscious at his feet. The occasional jewellery store robbery can only get so interesting.

He stacks the last of the boxes on the table in centre stage, dusts his hands and stares out at the chairs that line the halls. The Hero Course’s speech day takes place the day after the other courses, and as the U.A.’s Sports festival champion, he has to attend by default.

He never liked Speech Day, with its unnecessarily long talks, but he does enjoy the feeling of recognition for his hard work. The lights shining on him, the deafening applause and the muted silence of those who hate him—the awards he earns are indisputably his, and no one could take the spotlight away from him.

The creaking of the maple flooring makes his head snap to the direction of the noise. Behind the velvet curtains, someone hovers near the grand piano. The figure looks tiny when standing next to the instrument, and Katsuki has to squint to make out the shadow behind the lush red drapes.

“Oi! What’re you doing here, extra? Playing hide-and-seek?”

The silhouette's movements stutter, which makes Katsuki roll his eyes as he takes long strides backstage and rips the curtain away.

“Would it kill you to speak—?”

The decibel level in his voice flips to zero like the arrow in a speedometer. His eyes catch yours for the first time, for some reason, his heart stammers at the sight of you.

“Oh, what the hell—” He starts, before you stare at him dumbly with wide eyes brimming with unbridled shock. You open your mouth, chew your bottom lip and rasp out 5 words.

“How can you see me?”

[yourwizardofaus]

It's my last Tumblr post for 2023, the year that saw the release of an Elvis biopic by Buz Luhrmann. Tom Hanks received some criticism along the way for his portrayal of Parker, with everything from his prosthetic makeup to his accent being singled out. As the year ends, lets take a look at some of the pictures I've collected of the real "Thomas Andrew Parker" during his years with Elvis.

Elvis and Parker at an RCA-Paramount Pictures party at the Beverly Wilshire Hotel in Los Angeles on 18th May 1957.

Two pictures from December 21, 1957, when Elvis went to Parker's home (1215 Gallatin Road in South Madison, Tennessee) to deliver a Christmas present - a new BMW Isetta microcar.

It’s 9:15am at Fort Dix, NJ on 5th March 1960 and Elvis is being honorably discharged from the Army.  As he collects his mustering out cheque for $109.54 he kids with the Colonel about his percentage.  In later years that would be far from a laughing matter.

Parker shows his sense of humour during the filming Roustabout in 1964 when a birthday party is held for Elvis’ cousin, Billy Smith.

On the NBC set in Los Angeles, Elvis sung a birthday song ‘It Hurts Me’ (in an amusing parody) for the Colonel, 26 June 1968.

A couple of rare shots of Parker with baby Lisa Marie.

Two pictures of Parker and Elvis at the August 1, 1969 press conference in Las Vegas announcing Elvis' new residency at the International Hotel (the Hilton as of 1972).

In this candid shot, we see Parker in a hotel elevator while on tour in Mobile Alabama in 1971 with one of his constant business companions, longtime RCA Records executive George L. Parkhill (centre in yellow shirt).  Parkhill’s main task was "working with Elvis." That basically meant he supervised Elvis' concert tours and, when Elvis was in Los Angeles, monitoring all activities that involved him being RCA's top money maker.

The Colonel below the stage as Elvis performs in Cincinnati in the Black Fireworks jumpsuit on November 11, 1971.

Parker once again staying close to this star client below the stage at the evening appearance at Madison Square Garden on June 9, 1972.

Two pictures of Parker below the stage at the afternoon show in Honolulu on November 18, 1972. In the first picture he's picked an unusual spot to have a chat with Joe Esposito.

An undated picture of Colonel Parker on tour with Elvis in the early 1970s.

Colonel Parker before a concert in Detroit at Olympia Stadium on September 29, 1974.

Perhaps the last time Parker and Elvis were photographed together was in the dressing room just before the new years eve concert in Pontiac, MI, on December 31, 1975. At the time Parker had allowed a visit by local mayor Wallace E. Holland and Oakland press writer Jackie Kallen who presented an award.

[mariacallous]

As an ex-Soviet myself, I am baffled by the renewed global fascination with autocracy. According to Freedom House, 8 out of 10 people now live in a partly free or not free country. In the United States, surveys show that a substantial number of people would support authoritarian rule and do not consider the decline of democratic institutions a mortal threat. In China, Russia, and elsewhere, the winds of change seem to be blowing in the wrong direction.

Given this shift, HBO’s miniseries The Regime, whose finale aired on April 7, could not have been timelier. With Emmy Award-winning Kate Winslet and Succession’s Will Tracy at the helm, along with all the trappings of prestige television, The Regime was poised to explore some of the 21st century’s heftiest political questions: the allure of demagogues, the slide into unfreedom and tribalism, and the mechanisms a society can employ to reverse this slide.

Instead, The Regime provides only vague winks to the tendencies of the world’s strongmen that fail to rise to the level of serious critique or analysis, deployed with a naivete that feels distinctly American.

Winslet stars as Elena Vernham, a middle-aged chancellor of an unnamed fictitious country in Central Europe who is obsessed with the black mold she believes is invading her palace. To fight it, she summons Herbert Zubak (Matthias Schoenaerts), a hunky army corporal from a province that grows sugar beets. Prior to his arrival at the palace, Herbert was thrust into the national limelight for his role in gunning down 12 protesters at one of the country’s cobalt mines, earning him a gruesome nickname: “The Butcher.”

Elena and Herbert quickly develop a Beauty and the Beast kind of attraction (postmodern, of course, with no clarity about who is the beast—capricious and delusional Elena or self-loathing, bullied-turned-bully Herbert). After a brief falling out, resolved by Herbert saving Elena from an assassin, the two begin to rule the palace through a Rasputin-style combination of hysterics and nativism.

For the next five episodes, we follow Herbert’s zigzagging ascent through Elena’s wobbling realm, from a walking humidity monitor to a trusted political advisor and lover. Herbert witnesses, engages in, or directs various antics that, according to the show’s description, depict a “modern authoritarian regime as it unravels.” Scenes include cabinet meetings that Elena conducts from an ice-filled tub and bizarre conversations with her dead father, preserved in a glass coffin in the palace’s basement. Herbert, a man of rural origins, caters to Elena’s paranoia by cleansing the palace’s supposedly poisonous air with the steam from boiled potatoes (a folk remedy popular in my Soviet childhood).

Of course, no leader can outrun geopolitics. The country’s rich cobalt reserves attract international interest, and after chasing out a deal that would have given the United States mining rights on the cheap, Elena cozies up to China, promising it a free trade deal and a cut of the mining profits. Together, Elena and Herbert then navigate their way through the illegal annexation of a sovereign neighbor, a half-baked flirtation with nationalization and land reform, and the sting of Western economic sanctions.

All this chaotic politicking unfolds against Elena’s droning on about love, which she constantly either bestows on or demands from her people. Ever the shrewd economist, Elena proclaims, “The American beast and its client states try to strangle us, but petty sanctions will always fail because our love cannot be sanctioned.” Having shipped her subservient, poetry-loving French husband, Nicky (Guillaume Gallienne), to Swiss exile, Elena, who has regained her sex drive, passionately makes up for lost time with Herbert—and fails to notice the unrest growing among her populace over the country’s economic downturn and crude handling of protests.

By the final episode—spoilers ahead—it seems that Elena’s ruling model is no match for revolution. She is chased out of the palace and must run for her life through a land it’s clear she knows nothing about, despite the “special connection” she often claims to have with its people. For once, someone in this world other than Herbert has managed to outmaneuver her delusions. But soon enough, Elena bends the knee to the very oligarchs she once vilified. A would-be coup is undone with the snap of a U.S.-backed finger.

“What was that all about?” Nicky asks his wife at the end of the show. He is offered no conclusive answer—and neither is the audience.

Tracy, who created the show, has compared The Regime to a dark fairy tale, which may explain Elena’s look—a cross between an aging Sleeping Beauty and Madonna’s Evita—and the glass coffin. One could also see it as a love story, in which two broken individuals find a semblance of happiness by tormenting each other in their own make-believe reality. It may even be a dark comedy, as HBO describes it, if one can have comedy without a single funny joke. (Her cabinet member’s quip, “His profits are fucked like a spring donkey,” is certainly rude, but rudeness isn’t necessarily funny.)

One thing the show isn’t is satire. For that to be true, it would actually have to satirize something. Jonathan Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels derided the rigid mores of 18th-century England. Armando Iannucci’s The Death of Stalin poked fun at the brutality and hypocrisy of Joseph Stalin’s flunkies in the postwar Soviet Union. Making Elena’s regime a pastiche of autocracies was a fatal choice because those regimes are products of their unique, often brutal environments. Because the show nods to a little bit of everything, it takes aim at nothing.

Instead of real people, The Regime offers us walking cliches: a delusional woman with hot flashes and daddy issues; cowering and corrupt ministers; greedy Americans pining for other nations’ resources; the dull, kerchiefed masses who look like props recycled from last century’s movie sets. It’s not that we can’t care for bad people. We did for the Roys in Succession because they were nuanced characters, at once tragic and funny, with clear agendas that drove the plot. But The Regime’s characters feel generic, simply dropped into the set, stirring no feelings from the viewer, sympathetic or otherwise. The only character with an identifiable interest is the U.S. senator, Judith Holt (Martha Plimpton), who just wants the country’s cobalt. The rest merely float through the episodes, as though searching for a good scene to act out but coming up blank.

This is a shame because the show has no lack of talent. Winslet does her best with the material she is given, but there isn’t much she can do with lines such as, “I like a bit of spice. Spice is nice,” in reference to Herbert’s “spicy” dreams. She has no real antagonists, no articulated desires, and no emotions. Viewers are left to blink at the screen, admiring her outfits and waiting for something substantive to happen.

Schoenaerts, who plays Herbert, is more plausible, if cliched: a tortured warrior prepared to kill—and die—for love. Andrea Riseborough, playing Agnes, the palace manager, is less lucky. Having shined as Stalin’s daughter in The Death of Stalin, here she is reduced to a brittle, peacoat-wearing loyalist who has an unexplained co-parenting arrangement with Elena and yields her maternal rights the moment Elena demands it. Her epileptic son doesn’t seem to mind, as long as he gets new toys. Hugh Grant as Edward Keplinger, the country’s imprisoned opposition leader, is charming, but his cameo feels like a checkmark on the celebrity cast list. With his carpeted cell, steady supply of sausages, and access to the prison’s keys, Grant’s performance lacks the gravitas that the suffering of real imprisoned political figures, including the late Russian opposition leader Alexei Navalny, deserves.

And then there is Mr. Laskin (Danny Webb), the head of Elena’s security service. In real dictatorships, the requirements of this job are gruesome and attract rather monstrous personalities—think Lavrentiy Beria of the Soviet Union or Heinrich Himmler of Nazi Germany, both of whom orchestrated horrendous mass murders. Yet in The Regime, Laskin speaks politely about his duty to his country and that he “believes in a principle, the legal transition of power.” Unlike in a real dictatorial regime, we see no blood on his hands. There’s a difference between a temporary suspension of disbelief, which viewers will happily grant, and constantly being asked to accept improbable things.

Herein lies The Regime’s fundamental problem: It fumbles what seems to be the primary point of the show—the portrayal of autocracy. The issue with autocrats is not that they’re narcissists who force others to listen to their off-key singing, as Elena does at seemingly every banquet and celebration she can, but that they are ready to sacrifice millions of people to their delusions. Their subjects, including their inner circle, live in constant fear because the autocrat’s government and law enforcement apparatuses are weaponized and can be turned against them at any moment.

But there is no fear in Elena’s kingdom. Her out-of-grace oligarch is not dispossessed and jailed but simply ordered to clean up chairs at a press conference. Her ministers plot for her downfall in a downstairs bar before mockingly denying her a seat on the rescue helicopter. The rebels take the palace in a span of an episode. (If only real dictators were toppled that easily!) The Regime makes Elena look stupid and pathetic. We do not flee from her in terror; we shrug her off.

Despite her European aesthetics, the portrayal of Elena as a ruler reflects an undeniably American attitude toward autocracy. Even after four years of a Donald Trump presidency, many Americans still don’t take his threats seriously, unable to believe that his cartoonish personality and ineptitude could translate into a real assault on their democratic rights and liberties. With the memory of World War II fading away, others may simply underestimate the difference between living in a free society and living under tyranny.

At some level, plenty of Americans may even hanker for a strongman because he offers simple solutions to complex problems, blind to the fact that—like Elena—he is animated not by public service but by his own vanity, enrichment, and survival and occasionally those of his cronies.

As a creative project, The Regime is free to be whatever it wants to be—a fairy tale, a dark comedy, a saga of human vices. But any serious work of art must be about something, some pressing aspect of human existence, and should be evaluated on those terms. What, then, is The Regime’s message? That love is an exchange of perversions? That the United States is a colonizer propping up authoritarian regimes because it wants their assets? That nothing ever changes and we should resign ourselves to endless inevitable iterations of the narcissist-in-chief?

Cynicism doesn’t win battles—or make for very good television. Perhaps HBO’s next meditation on authoritarianism will give us substance on the topic rather than winks.

[afeelgoodblog]

The Top 7 Best News of Last Week — August 22, 2022

🎉🎈 — I created this newsletter exactly one year ago! I hope I have made your weeks slightly better. Thank you for being a subscriber

1. New California law now mandates that the school day start no earlier than 8 am for middle graders and 8:30 am for high schoolers.

The start of the new school year is right around the corner! And for most middle and high schoolers, that could mean getting more sleep. Starting July 1, a California state law now requires middle school start no earlier than 8 a.m.

For high school, it’s 8:30 a.m. “This is a public health issue because the sleep deprivation in teens is really at epidemic levels,” said Joy Wake, Policy and Advocacy Director for Start School Later.

2. Pennsylvania governor signs executive order banning conversion therapy

Pennsylvania Gov. Tom Wolf signed an executive order Tuesday to ban conversion therapy, a discredited form of therapy that seeks to change someone’s sexual orientation or gender identity, for minors.

The executive order directs state agencies to discourage conversion therapy for people of all ages, and to instead promote evidence-based practices for supporting LGBTQ people. The order also directs the Department of Human Services, among other agencies, to ensure that state funds are not being used to provide or reimburse for conversion therapy.

3. First Native American woman to travel to space

Astronaut Nicole Aunapu Mann, of the Wailacki of the Round Valley Indian Tribes, will be mission commander — responsible for all phases of flight. She will go to the International Space Station on 29 September, Nasa says.

“It’s very exciting,” she told newspaper Indian Country Today.

“I think it’s important that we communicate this to our community, so that other Native kids… realise that some of those barriers that used to be there are really starting to get broken down,” she added.

4. 100-acre no cage, no kill dog shelter opening in Alabama

Big Dog Ranch Rescue — the largest cage-free, no-kill rescue in the U.S. — is opening a 100-acre facility in Alabama.

The ranch will be located at the former home of a greyhound training facility in Shorter in Macon County and will serve as a rescue, rehabilitation, medical and adoption center for dogs across the south. The Alabama property will allow the rescue to save an additional 5,000 dogs each year.

5. Scotland to become first country in world to provide free period products

On Monday, when the Period Products Act comes into force, councils and education providers in Scotland will be legally required to ensure free sanitary products are available to anyone who needs them.

Scotland’s councils will each decide what exact arrangements are put in place, but they will have a legal obligation to give “anyone who needs them” access to a range of period products “reasonably easily”.

6. World’s smallest sea turtle nests in Louisiana for the first time in 75 years

“Louisiana was largely written off as a nesting spot for sea turtles decades ago, but this determination demonstrates why barrier island restoration is so important,” Chip Kline, chairman of the Louisiana Coastal Restoration and Protection Authority, said in a news release.

Crews monitoring the Chandeleur Islands — a chain 50 miles (80 kilometers) east of New Orleans — to help design a restoration project found tracks of females going to and from nests and of hatchlings leaving a nest.

7. Sacheen Littlefeather receives formal apology for mistreatment at 1973 Oscars.

The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences has formally apologized to Sacheen Littlefeather for her mistreatment at the 1973 Academy Awards, where the Native American actress and civil rights activist was booed and ridiculed as she declined the Best Actor award on Marlon Brando’s behalf.

“The abuse you endured because of this statement was unwarranted and unjustified,” Academy President David Rubin wrote in a “statement of reconciliation” sent to Littefeather in June, and posted on the Academy’s website Monday. “The emotional burden you have lived through and the cost to your own career in our industry are irreparable. For too long the courage you showed has been unacknowledged. For this, we offer both our deepest apologies and our sincere admiration.”

I love how she was able to apply humor to the situation. She quipped, “We Indians are very patient people. It’s only been 50 years”. Bless her, that’s awesome.

...

That's it for this week. This newsletter will always be free. If you liked this post you can support me with a small kofi donation:

Buy me a coffee ❤️

Have a great week ahead.

[beardedmrbean]

madrid — 

As Abraham Jimenez Enoa walked his 3-year-old son home from kindergarten, two men sidled up beside them.

“We know you are near your home,” one of them said.

The experience shook the exiled journalist, who says he decided to leave his adopted city of Barcelona for a while after the encounter in July.

Despite being expelled from Cuba last year for writing what he says is the truth about the country’s communist government, Jimenez Enoa says he has been targeted by unidentified men in Europe, including in Madrid and Amsterdam.

Each time, the men spoke with Cuban accents.

The journalist, who writes for The Washington Post, said he believes those targeting him are Cuban agents.

Members of his family were senior military figures, so Jimenez Enoa once lived a cushioned life at the heart of the Communist Party establishment. His family had close ties to the late Fidel Castro and Argentine Marxist revolutionary Che Guevara.

The 34-year-old turned his back on this life to forge a career as an independent journalist.

Neither the International Press Center in Havana — a government agency that handles media queries — nor the Cuban Embassy in Madrid replied to requests for comment from VOA about Jimenez Enoa's allegations.

Jimenez Enoa, like other dissidents who flee hostile regimes, says he is a victim of “transnational repression,” a tactic in which governments target critics outside their own borders.

Freedom House, which has been monitoring the phenomenon, says there were 854 verifiable incidents from 2014 to 2022, which included abductions, assassinations and attacks. Of these, 11% involved journalists.

Journalists in exile are targeted because they reveal uncomfortable facts about what is going on in their own countries — information that their governments do not want to make public.

China, Egypt, Russia, Turkey and Tajikistan were involved in the largest number of cases, according to Freedom House reports. China has been involved in 30% of the incidents, it said.

Jimenez Enoa believes the incident in July was an attempt by the Cuban government to intimidate him. He told VOA the two men approached him and said they knew where he lived.

“I didn’t know who said it. There were lots of people around,” he told VOA in an interview in Barcelona. “I saw two men who were laughing to themselves. They were dressed as Cuban diplomats [with a shirt and tie], then they went.”

Jimenez Enoa, who published The Hidden Island, a book about Cuba, said he was also followed at a book fair in Spain’s capital in May.

“At the book fair in Madrid, during the whole day, there was a man watching me and filming me. He did not say anything. Someone I spoke with said they had spoken to him and they said that he had a Cuban accent,” Jimenez Enoa recalled.

In March of last year, at a meeting in the Netherlands, Jimenez Enoa came face-to-face with a man he believes was a Cuban agent.

"A man started to offend me, saying everything I did was a lie. He continued to offend me. The organizers had to get him out of the place,” he said. “A diplomat [later] showed me a picture of the man and said he worked at the Cuban Embassy in Holland.”

Of his three encounters in Europe with what he believes were Cuban agents, the last incident was most disturbing, he said.

“I was with my son, and it was around the corner from my house. Each time these people had Cuban accents,” he said.

Jimenez Enoa said he did not report the incidents to the Spanish or Dutch police because he did not have any evidence to present.

The Committee to Project Journalists, which in 2020 honored Jimenez Enoa with an International Press Freedom Award, has called on Spanish authorities to investigate and ensure his safety.

The experiences are unsettling because Jimenez Enoa fled Cuba to avoid threats after enduring a campaign of harassment.

“I was put under house arrest; my phone was bugged. I was later arrested, handcuffed, strip-searched and questioned by security officers. Then they secretly filmed me and put my image on television, claiming I was a CIA spy,” he told VOA in an earlier interview.

“Later, they telephoned me and said I had to leave the country, or they would put me in prison and ‘terminate’ my family and the family of my wife.”

[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

Award (shit)Show

There’s many things that come with being the manager of the cast of MTV’s Jackass.

Johnny Knoxville X Gn!reader (if you squint)

3k Words

(Fluff)

Warnings: Suggestive content, crude language, drug use, alcohol, vomit, flirting, bar fights (it’s Jackass)

An: Wow!! This fic took a WHILE loool little different from what I usually do, but I hope you enjoy!

“Goddamn it!!” You yelled over the shitty in ear monitor, “Where they fuck are they?!”

You always hated when this happened, but nevertheless, it was routine. You open the door to the dressing room and- poof! Just like magic, the idiots disappeared! Though you really hoped that, one day, they might, actually. Storming into the empty room like a bat out of hell, you panickedly scanned over every dusty surface, every dirty mirror and sordid piece of upholstery like your life depended on it while some poor, defenseless MTV intern stuttered some excuse over the line. You cut them off, “Yes, I know the show is in an hour!! There’s nothing I can-“

In your haste, you had neglected to notice a certain, very important detail- namely the leader of the very men you were searching for passed out on the second hand, stained, dressing room couch, half dressed, and with a beer bottle in his hand. You sighed in relief and spoke back, “Nevermind.” You clicked off your monitor.

You leaned down, grabbing the broad, bare shoulders of the unconscious man and gently shaking them. Johnny stirred, his closed eyes fluttering open just slightly- just enough for him to catch your gaze. He grumbled, his voice rougher than usual, “Hey Y/N.” You could tell he wasn’t happy to see you, but you put on your best customer service tone.

“You have an award to present in 30 minutes, Johnny!” You lied through your faux grin, knowing it was the only way to get him up. He groaned like a teenager not wanting to be woken up for school, his head falling back and grip tightening around the bottle. “C'mon! We gotta get you ready, right? Let’s get you up.” You scooped your hands under his armpits, hoisting him up with some effort and walking him over to the mirror as he dragged his bare feet on the hardwood.

Johnny squinted at the bright lights of the makeup mirror. Now, you knew he wasn’t totally sober when you walked in, but that fact was undeniable when he looked down at you with half lidded hungover eyes, with pink bloodshot scleras and blown out pupils. He cracked a smile, swaying in your hands still as he slurred in a thick southern accent, “‘look like shit, don’I?”

Well, he did, but you weren’t about to say that, especially knowing how vain Johnny was. “Pfft! Nooo! Not at all!” He chuckled, leaning down a couple inches from your face, chuckling quietly, “God, you’re so sweet.” You would’ve sworn your heart stopped for a second before you got your bearings again. But as attractive as he seemed at the moment, you did have an objective. Moving behind him, you fixed his perpetually messy hair under the yellowing, half burnt out lights of the mirror while he blinked groggily. “Look at m’fuckin eyes…i do look like shit.” He whined, examining his own face. You grabbed his glasses from his pants pocket, him having seemingly forgotten they were in there, and the world was right again. You continued fixing him up as he rambled to you, “You know that Jessica girl?”

“Simpson?” You questioned, trying to keep him busy as you stepped away to grab his shirt from the ground. “Mmhm. God, she’s great.” You were a little concerned by this as she just so happened to be presenting at the same award show you were at- something about some movie she was in.

“Not as cute as you, though.” Johnny added, giggling. That was Knoxville- always flirty when intoxicated. He feebly stuck his arms up as you came back, like he was expecting you to pull his shirt over his head. The things you have to do for this fuckin job. “See, tonight Steve’s gonna do that bit when we present…the, un, the one where he says, ‘who’s got four thumbs and loves-“ You sighed, doing as directed, tugging it onto him. “You are going to be on international television, Johnny. You have got to be on your best behavior!”

“Sorry, sorry…” You walked him back to the couch, sitting him down gently while he got hesitant at your chiding, hands in his lap. He looked up at you through his glasses with those still heart melting eyes as you explained, “I’m gonna get someone in here, okay? And they’ll take you out when everyone’s ready, but I have to go now, okay?” He nodded, and you hoped that he was actually listening. “Good! I’ll see you soon, okay?”

Usually you’d ask him to repeat your instructions back to you as Johnny had a horrible habit of just not listening very well, but you really didn’t have the time. Just like that, you zipped out of the dressing room, filtering down the crowded, chaotic hallway, clicking on your monitor again, “Can we get someone at the dressing room with some ice water? Knoxville’s more spaced out than an astronaut in there and I can not have him passing out again!” And just as you said that, there goes the intern from before, zipping past you and into the open door.

As much as you hated the job, it had its perks. For one, you could always have someone do something for you, whatever you needed, such as that intern, now newly appointed babysitter. Of course, that wasn’t consistent, as at the moment, you were stuck with dreadedly searching for the second names on the billing- Steve-O and Pontius. They always did something, and it usually end ended up as some horrendous prank on you. You squeezed through the buzzing crowded hallway, and after you got no answers from your repeated questioning of your coworkers, you resorted to the next best thing. Knocking on doors and jiggling handles- you got very close to many very famous people who completely hated you for daring to interrupt them getting ready, slamming doors in your face while in all various stages of putting on makeup or doing hair.

As you rapidly searched, you didn’t notice when the door you were knocking on swung open, as if it wasn’t closed at all, and you weren’t sure if you were relieved or more perturbed at the sight.

There, on the floor of the completely trashed dressing room, were the two giddy, semi nude men you were looking for, clad only in their, as they called their, ‘cheetahs’, in a pile of pilfered women’s clothing, giggling at each other like school girls. Upon further inspection, you noticed that that wasn’t all that they were wearing.

“Y/N!! Dude, I’m so glad you’re here!” Steve turned to you, grinning with a bloody nose and a full face of makeup, a tube of bright red lipstick in hand. “See, Pontius and I had this great idea, and-“ You rubbed the space between your eyebrows, tilting your head down. “I don’t even care. I have more important things to d- Chris, are you wearing heels?”

Chris nodded. “Well,” he rationalized in that cute, kinda dumb way, “Steve-O couldn’t walk in them, so I had to!” Well you couldn’t really argue with that. Admitly, he was the only member of the cast that could walk in heels, or at the very least pull them off, but you weren’t sure how people would react to seeing Party Boy himself in an animal print speedo and shiny candy apple red pumps. It would surely cause an uproar, but hell, it’s 2001, maybe that would be a good thing.

You furrowed your eyebrows, sighing. “Whatever, just don’t get into any more shit while I’m gone?” Cue the laughter. Cutting the noise, you got a call on your cell phone and turned to leave. Not waiting for a response, you slammed the door behind you, flipping your phone open and recognizing the number, you took the call. “Ryan?” Your eyes opened a bit wider in hope- maybe your job would be getting easier tonight. The voice that giggled back,

“Y/Nnnnnnn~…” It was Bam, hopelessly drunk. Goddamn it! You leaned against the now closed door behind you. “When- when’s that- uh…that show again?” You could hear the crowded bar behind his voice as Bam talked, mouth too close to the speaker. You thought for a moment, eyes glancing up for a clock. “I think it’s at…”

Your eyes landed on the taped sheet of paper on the dressing room door and you nearly shit a brick. It read in comic sans,

Jessica Simpson

Fuuuuck. If you weren’t getting fired after this, you planned on buying a lottery ticket after this show. “Seven.” You replied matter of factly after finding a clock. Bam laughed, “No, that’s not right, cuz sevens in fifteen minutes…'dozen make ‘ny sense…”

Boom. Second heart attack of the night. Turning on your heel, you bolted for the exit, shouting for someone to go to the dressing room and watch those two while you were out. Bam just giggled on the other end of the line. “Where are you?”

“How should I know?” He drunkenly joked, “Some fucking Irish place, ‘iguess.” Wow, very helpful. You snapped the phone shut, looking around near the venue for the kind of establishment those two would frequent- nowhere good. You clicked on your monitor again to check if anything was going wrong and turned it on to your manager yelling at you, “Y/N!! Where are you?! They’re on in 15!”

“I know, I know! I’ll get back in 10! I found Chris and Steve in Jessica Simpson’s dressing room, so-“ You didn’t imagine how weird it would sound before it left your mouth. “You what?!?” “I don’t have time, just get someone in there and keep them in one place!” You clicked it off as you found what was probably the right place- a little hole in the wall-ly place called Mc’Hale’s. Parking, you threw the door open, charging into the dark, crowded establishment. Almost immediately, you found Bam and Ryan, the two having attracted a thick cheering crowd you squeezed past.

Now, you’d seen bar fights before, but nothing like this scene. Bam was swinging those limp little fists at the speed of light at the guy he had pinned up against the sticky bar while drunkenly yelling through gritted teeth, “Yeah? Yeah? How you fuckin like that? Huh?” You would’ve been concerned if the guy he picked a fight with hadn’t been at least 5 inches taller than him and seemed completely unaffected by his weak punches, laughing at him. What did concern you, however, was when Ryan, who had seemingly maintained his cool, grabbed a wooden stool from under the bar.

“Okay, okay! Time to go!” You decided to stop it before it got ugly, stepping past the barrier of people and picking up Bam by the back of his jacket like a kitten, pulling Ryan’s interest. You tugged him back, getting a good look at his face in the yellow swinging lights of the shady bar.

He stared at you with wide, glassy icy blue eyes like he was surprised that you would’ve stopped him, cheeks flushed with alcohol. A stream of blood trickled from his eyebrow, warm liquid dripping down his face and smeared on his cheek bone. Bringing your thumb to the cut, you roughly wiped the blood away, eliciting a wince from him. You scoffed, rolling your eyes as the crowd parted for you to drag him out. “Cmonnnnn…”

Like a petulant child, Bam’s legs went weak under him, pulling you down as he practically threw himself on the ground. Ryan, the significantly more sensible and coherent one, followed behind to help you, grabbing his shoulder and hoisting him up off of his feet. You threw the car door open, tossing him in the backseat while he complained, “Ryan fuckin started it!! Why’re you mad at me?!” You slamed the door as Ryan turned to you, seemingly uninebriated save for the smell of Jim Beam on his breath, “I have no idea what he’s talking about.”

Ryan sipped the beer he still had from the bar as you pulled into the theater, internally laughing to yourself in disbelief. You did it, you crazy son of a bitch. “Okay! Out, out!!” What a contrast to earlier tonight, not even caring about niceties as you hauled them out. Bam stumbled, whining the whole way, trading mumbled remarks with Ryan the whole way backstage. “God, why’da have to be such a bitch about stuff?” “ ‘M not a bitch…you’re a bitch…” Ryan chuckled, “Yeah, says the guy who pissed himself.”

“Great! Just great!” You ranted on your monitor, standing by the stage door keeping watch over Bam and Ryan, “We have two drunks- one who pissed himself, two guys in makeup- one in heels, and the star of the whole program so high he can't stand! Mtv is just going to love this!” Ryan leaned towards your microphone, chucking, “Oh, I'm sure it’s all just gonna go great.”

“Here comes wonderboy.” Bam leaned forward, snickering at the sight- the tiny intern lugging the barefoot, comparatively huge Johnny along. “Hey, Knoxville! How’re you doin?” He licked his hips, blinking hard behind his glasses at the bright lights. “Awful.” The other two nodded, in a sort of unsober solidarity. All heads turned as you heard the announcer on the other end of the curtain over the speakers, “Ladies and gentlemen, do not try this at home! Welcome the stars of Jackass, Johnny Knoxville, Bam Margera, Ryan Dunn, Chris Pontius, and the handsome and talented Mr. Steve- O!”

You whisper-yelled over your monitor, “Where the fuck are the other two?! They’re- they’re supposed to be here! Now!” The person on the other end of the line couldn’t come up with an answer, stuttering something about the dressing room. You bolted in that direction, throwing one the door.

“Where the fuck did they get duct tape?!” You questioned, less concerned with the silver bound gentlemen on the floor and more concerned with how they got there. Idiots. You grabbed them under the arms and tugged them to their feet, not even nothing to get them out of the silver wrapped around their wrists and ankles. “Oh, Y/N! My hero!” Steve joked as they shuffled along to the others. Finally, everyone was together and you could start the parade of freaks, almost on schedule!

Now drenched in sweat, you slank to the back room with all the tv monitors, exhaustedly throwing your jacket on the stiff office chair and melting into it, your head falling backwards and switching the channel of your monitor so you would be speaking to cast, not crew. Crowd applause and the twangy tones of Corona echoed from the tinny desk speakers as the footage thousands of Americans would be watching played out first and foremost on the shitty little computer in front of you. “Wow, Steve O!!” The charming talk show guy who hosted the show started, “Can- can I ask about the dress?”

The dress? Your head snapped up, and there it was, fitting his gangly frame surprisingly well, a cobalt blue sequined mini dress that shimmered under the stage light so beautifully- it would’ve looked stunning on anyone except, well, Steve-O. Pontius giggled, “The dress? Or the heels?” Talk show boy glanced down, “Heels?! Oh- oh wow!” He chuckled unbelievingly. Steve licked his lips, leaning into the microphone, “Well, the thing is- it’s such a special night!” He tucked a non-existing lock of hair behind his ear while avoiding the question, “And- and I’m just so star struck right now.” Knoxville nodded, leaning in to speak as he wobbled against the lectern like an unstable vase, “Y’know, I just can’t believe I’m on stage with you man- what’s your name again?”

Slightly insulted in the way people who think highly of themselves get, he opened his mouth to speak to speak, but almost as if on cue, Bam leaned forward and, with much bravado, heaved over the lectern, dripping down the side of the stage and delicately spraying the tuxedoed crowd in the very first row with bright green Midori Sour flavored vomit.

And the ‘ew’s. Chaos, choreographed like a balet- it always seemed to play out like this. Ryan, who had up to this point mostly gone under the radar and was seemingly the only one keeping this award train rolling, swiped the now warm, neon green card from the stand, “So, who’s this award going to anyway…?” Abandoning all plans, the host tore it from his hands, quickly ripping it open.

“Jessica Simpson!!” He feigned excitement as your stomach dropped. This could either go well or probably, most likely, very bad. And she walked onstage all pretty, waving to the audience and smiling like a Barbie doll while avoiding the aforementioned green puddle. She walked up to the cheap, unstable lectern, giving the garden variety acceptance routine. So lucky to win actress of the year, I’d like to say blah blah blah. Applause! And as the studio cameras panned, she leaned back from the microphone to say something. However, she didn’t move enough. Still caught on the feed, she turned to Pontius with sarcasm, “I really like your heels.”

“I like your heels too!” All insult was lost on Chris, laughing at his own dumb joke. Jessica scoffed, crossing her arms and walking offstage, completely disregarding Steve’s own attempt to get at her. The crowd roared with laughter, as did you. More likely than not, the whole thing would be cut out for home broadcasting, but god, it was good. It always was.

[spacetimewithstuartgary]

Wednesday SpaceTime 20240320 Series 27 Episode 35

Giant volcano discovered on Mars

Scientists have discovered a giant ancient volcano and glacial ice sheet buried in the eastern part of the Martian Tharsis volcanic province, near the planet’s equator.

New radar mission for Europe

The European Space Agency are planning a new Earth observation mission to monitor how the planet is changing due to global warming.

A busy time aboard the International Space Station

It’s been a busy time aboard the international Space Station with several crews arriving and departing over the last few weeks.

Could a robot chemist create oxygen from the resources already on Mars?

Scientists have developed an AI robot chemist that can make oxygen from Martian meteorites.

The Science Report

Claims high temperatures immediately increase your risk of having an ischemic stroke.

Whales getting stuck in discarded fishing gear wind up with serious life long injuries – if they survive.

Using Vegemite to pull metals out of water.

Alex on Tech Trouble with TikTok and Meta

SpaceTime covers the latest news in astronomy & space sciences.

The show is available every Monday, Wednesday and Friday through Apple Podcasts (itunes), Stitcher, Google Podcast, Pocketcasts, SoundCloud, Bitez.com, YouTube, your favourite podcast download provider, and from www.spacetimewithstuartgary.com

SpaceTime is also broadcast through the National Science Foundation on Science Zone Radio and on both i-heart Radio and Tune-In Radio.

SpaceTime daily news blog: http://spacetimewithstuartgary.tumblr.com/

SpaceTime facebook: www.facebook.com/spacetimewithstuartgary

SpaceTime Instagram @spacetimewithstuartgary

SpaceTime twitter feed @stuartgary

SpaceTime YouTube: @SpaceTimewithStuartGary

SpaceTime -- A brief history

SpaceTime is Australia’s most popular and respected astronomy and space science news program – averaging over two million downloads every year. We’re also number five in the United States.  The show reports on the latest stories and discoveries making news in astronomy, space flight, and science.  SpaceTime features weekly interviews with leading Australian scientists about their research.  The show began life in 1995 as ‘StarStuff’ on the Australian Broadcasting Corporation’s (ABC) NewsRadio network.  Award winning investigative reporter Stuart Gary created the program during more than fifteen years as NewsRadio’s evening anchor and Science Editor.  Gary’s always loved science. He studied astronomy at university and was invited to undertake a PHD in astrophysics, but instead focused on his career in journalism and radio broadcasting. He worked as an announcer and music DJ in commercial radio, before becoming a journalist and eventually joining ABC News and Current Affairs. Later, Gary became part of the team that set up ABC NewsRadio and was one of its first presenters. When asked to put his science background to use, Gary developed StarStuff which he wrote, produced and hosted, consistently achieving 9 per cent of the national Australian radio audience based on the ABC’s Nielsen ratings survey figures for the five major Australian metro markets: Sydney, Melbourne, Brisbane, Adelaide, and Perth.  The StarStuff podcast was published on line by ABC Science -- achieving over 1.3 million downloads annually.  However, after some 20 years, the show finally wrapped up in December 2015 following ABC funding cuts, and a redirection of available finances to increase sports and horse racing coverage.  Rather than continue with the ABC, Gary resigned so that he could keep the show going independently.  StarStuff was rebranded as “SpaceTime”, with the first episode being broadcast in February 2016.  Over the years, SpaceTime has grown, more than doubling its former ABC audience numbers and expanding to include new segments such as the Science Report -- which provides a wrap of general science news, weekly skeptical science features, special reports looking at the latest computer and technology news, and Skywatch – which provides a monthly guide to the night skies. The show is published three times weekly (every Monday, Wednesday and Friday) and available from the United States National Science Foundation on Science Zone Radio, and through both i-heart Radio and Tune-In Radio.

[jimblejamblewritings]

riddle means misery | part 8.

Summary: Y/N Riddle. Not much more has to be said. Everyone hates her. She’s evil... she has to be.

Warnings for the Series: 18+, this series is dark. Manipulation, dubcon verging on noncon, abuse of power, violence, ed mentions, death, blood

Pairing: Bill Weasley x black!reader (semi-slowburn)

Word Count: 3.0k

Previous Part | (Series Masterlist)

The memories ended shortly after showing your brief freedom before you were taken to St. Barney’s. Slowly, you pulled your hand out of the pensieve. Your hand moved to scratch at the Dark Mark on your other arm. Amelia Bones pulled up multiple folders. 

“I would like to call in all Aurors with shifts at Azkaban during the years Y/N Riddle was there. I would also like to motion the Ministry for an internal investigation regarding the misconduct of her first case. And Ms. Riddle?”

Your scratching stopped and your gaze moved from the floor to Amelia. She looked at you with eyes full of pity— it wasn’t missed on anyone how your leg wouldn’t stop bouncing the entire time or the hand outside the pensieve that hadn’t stopped shaking since you sat down.   

“It appears.” Amelia’s voice cracked. “There’s been a mistake. We’ll be exonerating you of all crimes. Seeing as there are also no other charges, you are free to go. I would like it to be noted that compensation for time spent in Azkaban will be given. The Riddle vault will be unfrozen and you have full use of your Gringotts account. We’ll be stripping Peter Pettigrew of any awards he had received posthumously when he was thought to be dead and I want a search for him starting tomorrow. 

“Public corrections will be made about Ms. Riddle. No one will be monitoring spell use, any tracking of whereabouts is gone. On behalf of the entire Ministry, we apologize for the mistake and ordeal you must have been put through. You are free to leave. Auror Moody, please remove the enchantments from Ms. Riddle’s wand and take her home.”

You just sat in the chair when Moody handed you your wand back. He looked back at Amelia and Fudge when you didn’t move. 

“Ms. Riddle, you can leave.” 

“Are the dementors still at Hogwarts?” 

“Uh, yes, yes, you’re right. They will be notified to return to Azkaban but they never go immediately… Does anyone know if there are rooms available above the Leaky Cauldron on such short notice? Just for a day or two until every dementor has left?”

Bill stepped up to stand next to Moody. “She can come with Mad-Eye and I, there’s room somewhere at the Burrow. Is that alright with you, Ms. Riddle?” 

You finally stood up from the chair. Moody and Bill were careful not to stand too close to you on either side so you wouldn’t feel trapped. Moody went first to make sure everyone knew what was happening. Bill handed you the jar with Floo Powder in it and told you to just say The Burrow. You just stood right in front of the fireplace until Bill tumbled out of it. He patted you on the shoulder, apologizing when you jumped. 

“Make yourself at home.” 

Everyone was gathered in the dining room/kitchen to try and give you space. The openness of the Burrow only allowed for so much space to be given but they tried. They watched you shuffle to a worn-out fluffy armchair near the window. You had noticed them. You just didn’t say anything but it was hard not to see them. There were more people than you expected. You thought it would be just the Weasleys and Moody. 

But there were a lot of familiar faces. Marlene and her wife, Dorcas and hers, Sirius, Remus, the Potters, and the Longbottoms. As well as other friends whose names you couldn’t remember or faces you weren’t sure if you had met. Hermione was also there after celebrating Christmas early with her parents so she could be there. 

Bill set down some butterbeer and Christmas cookies on the tiny table next to your chair. He moved back to the kitchen where everyone was trying to eat. They kept glancing over at you. It was almost frightening how still you could be. You just rested your head on your knees, hugging yourself, and stared out the window. But you hadn’t moved once. You didn’t even reach back for the warm butterbeer that was now cooling. It was snowing. You stared at the snowmen that the children had made outside. Christmas was the day after tomorrow. You lifted your head up. You got a Christmas present as far as you were concerned. Someone finally listened to you.  

Frank Longbottom was the next one to look at you. “She’s crying.” 

Everyone looked over to see exactly what he was talking about. He was right. There were fresh tear stains running down your face. You were also shivering like crazy. All of the guests watched you scratched at your arm where the Dark Mark was hidden under your shirt sleeve. Ginny got up from the table, Bill following. He was the Auror that Ginny had given the diary to, only trusting her cool oldest brother to handle it. That was the start of Bill looking at everything with a bit of questioning before your trial had even started. Because why would you have let his sister go if you were working with your father? Bill grabbed some of his stuff and a quilt. He came back out to hand it to you at the same time that Ginny came back with your butterbeer that she warmed and put directly into your hand. 

“Here’s a blanket and some old pajamas of mine if you want to change… We don’t have any guest rooms left so you can take my room. I’ll take the couch.” 

You shook your head. 

“No? Do you want the couch?” 

“Yes.” 

“Okay.”

Bill walked away to go back to the table. You sipped on the butterbeer until it was finished. Conversations stopped once again when you started to get up from the chair. All of your bones cracked to alert of your presence as you walked upstairs to where Bill had pointed out one of the bathrooms. 

“Does she always move so slow?” 

They heard the shower start. Tonks knocked on the table. 

“Okay, kids, out. Go find a room and hang out in it. Adults are talking.” 

The children all protested but did as they were told. 

“You’re all disgusting,” Tonks spoke up when they were gone. 

“We know,” Sirius said.

Tonks’ hair was going through an array of colors. No one even made a protest at her very long rant. They agreed with what she said about apologizing and asking forgiveness— begging because Tonks insisted that if she had gone through what you went through it would take years for her to be able to forgive them. They might be lucky and not take as long to be forgiven because you were so affected by Azkaban. She only stopped when you came back downstairs. You yawned and sat on the couch. Everyone quickly scrambled to go to their respective rooms and let you sleep. 

A scream so loud that it echoed through the house garnered everyone’s attention. The entirety of the Burrow came downstairs, slowly at first but quickly once they realized the sound was coming from inside the house. 

“I didn’t do it!” you yelled. “I didn’t kill anyone, please, I didn’t do it!” 

Despite being in the throes of a nightmare, you were still a light sleeper. Your eyes suddenly opened and you scrambled up against the couch when Harry’s knee so much as hit against the couch. He pulled back, both hands up in surrender. You were shaking like a leaf. The moment you recognized Harry you practically leapt off the couch. You shook your head looking at James.

“I didn’t go near him. I swear I didn’t.” 

You started to run when James tried to approach you. 

“Shit,” he muttered before throwing open the front door to chase after you. “Y/N, wait!” 

You didn’t know where you were going but you just couldn’t let James catch you. You were practically forced to slow down when you fell in the middle of the dirt road. James was breathing heavily by the time he caught up to you. You were quicker than expected and had gotten surprisingly far. He went to help you up. You were thrashing around when he held you. James stayed holding onto you despite you hitting at his arms. 

“Y/N, I’m so—”

“I didn’t touch him. I swear, James, I didn’t go near him. I di—”

“Y/N! I’m not going to hurt you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should have never threatened you. I’m sorry.” 

James rocked the two of you back and forth until you were no longer panicking. He helped you to your feet, keeping a hold on you for support. James kept apologizing as you walked back to the Burrow. Not just for threatening you about Harry but for everything over the years. 

Everyone breathed out relief at seeing you come back inside. You went back to the armchair instead of the couch. Molly shook her head and ushered all the children back upstairs when Ginny tried to approach you. You didn’t go to sleep for the rest of the night. Bill nearly jumped out his skin seeing you still sitting in the chair in the morning. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “For last night.” 

“Nothing to be sorry for. Do you want breakfast?”

You got up and went into the kitchen. Bill was going to ask what you wanted to eat but you just stood behind him. He made quick work of pouring you a bowl of cereal and putting it in your hands. 

“Can I go eat outside?”

Bill’s eyebrows darted up. “You want to be out there? It’s freezing, that’s crazy.” 

You frowned and sat at the table. Bill stumbled over his words. He forgot there was a thing about you asking for stuff.  

“Y-you can go, I didn’t mea— I was just surprised because of the snow.” 

You took your cereal and stood up to leave. Some of the other adults saw the door close as they came downstairs. They noticed you walked out without any preparation. No shoes, no coat, no blanket, not even a scarf. Just the borrowed clothes and socks from Bill and the bowl of cereal. You sat on the little stone wall to eat. They watched you shiver but refuse to leave. A frown graced Dorcas’ face. 

“She’s gonna make herself sick.”

You hopped off the little wall, empty bowl still in hand. Your socks were getting soaked from all the snow. Everyone acted like they hadn’t been watching you through the window when you came back inside. Like they expected, you sat back down in the corner armchair. Anyone else would have been bothered by the wet clothes. You were as well but you were so conditioned to just accept it. Prison gowns didn’t get daily changings. Your feet tapped the ground in a mindless pattern. Leaning over the small table, you started to scratch at it with your fingernail. 

Breakfast happened around you. Nodding along, you enjoyed the sounds of everyone eating and talking. Silence wasn’t something that brought you comfort anymore. They all looked over when they heard your gasp. You pulled your hand away from the table like it was on fire. The table wasn’t yours and you scratched two tally marks in it. Your eyes darted back and forth as you thought about all the tally marks in Hogwarts. None of the property was yours. Why would you do that was the only thought running in your head. You patted the table as if that would fix the problem before remembering you had a wand. You hadn’t done magic in a while. 

Naturally, it didn’t work. Panic set in when the table couldn’t be fixed. You kept trying, needing it to work. Molly left the table to come over to you. She put on an extra forced and cheery smile as she assured you it was an easy fix. The wood cleared up, good as new. 

“Do you want a change of clothes, Y/N?” 

“I’m okay.” 

“Al-alright. We’re building gingerbread houses, if you want to join.”

You followed her to the table where they made room for you. Your lack of magic was even more obvious when you were the only one putting the house together like a muggle. It became a hyperfixation. Everyone else’s were simple little cottages with enchanted gingerbread people that would dance. Yours was becoming a highly decorated mansion. Each piece of candy was carefully picked out and placed onto the house. Everyone was starting to leave the table to do other things and you were still there. 

Hours later, you finished the tiled roof of the gingerbread house. Occasionally, whoever came into the kitchen would duplicate the icing, candy, or gingerbread so you could have more. You only got up once to use the bathroom, pausing to stare at the bag of yarn for Mrs. Weasley’s knitting.  

You slowly left the safety of the table when you were completely finished to go back to the couch. Everyone was surprised that you were able to get any sleep. You were sleeping like the dead. James actually checked on you to make sure you weren’t dead. Like the other night, you woke up screaming until you just passed out again. You didn’t wake up again until the next morning. The kids were playing a card game right in front of the couch while adults were talking and drinking. Christmas carols that you hadn’t heard in forever were playing on the radio. Tonks was the first one to sit next to you when she noticed you had woken up.  

“Happy Christmas.” 

A closed basket was shoved into your arms. You looked down at it with confusion. Tonks informed you that everyone picked up some stuff. When you didn’t move to open it, she dropped the matter and went to talk with everyone else. You moved back to the armchair. Christmas happened around you. Guests started to leave until it was just the Weasleys and the Marauders’ families left. You almost missed the Longbottoms saying goodbye to everyone on your way upstairs to take a shower— after asking. The only thing you didn’t ask for was to use the bathroom due to St. Barney’s having the toilet inside your cell. 

You turned on the lamp next to the chair now that it was dark outside. The basket from earlier was sitting at your feet. You picked it up, finally taking a peek inside. There were lots of letters sitting on top of the gifts underneath. You would read those later. There were lots of little trinkets and goodies inside. Your hands gingerly picked up a mug. It was the same as the self-heating one you had dropped during the altercation with James. Actually, all of your things that you had dropped were replaced and put in the basket. Except for the niffler plushie.   

“Y/N, can we talk to you?” 

You looked up to see the Marauders— plus Lily, Marlene, and Dorcas— standing on the bottom step of the staircase. Guilt was very evident on their faces. They didn’t move right away. They let you assess them and come up with whatever conclusion you wanted. They knew they deserved the mistrust and anger they thought was on your face. You nodded slowly. Everyone sat down on the floor in front of the armchair so they wouldn’t be standing over you. You were stroking the sides of the self-heating mug. James started to stand up. 

“Do you want something to drink?” 

He took the mug from you and went to the kitchen to prepare tea. You took the mug from his hands when he came back with lots of care, trying to avoid touching his hand. Marlene grabbed the blanket from the couch to hand to you when you started shivering. Sirius sat up a bit straighter. 

“We shouldn’t have ever said or done those things to you. You never did anything wrong to anybody and whatever sort of justice we thought we were carrying out was disgusting beyond belief. And I’m so sorry that I ever even found it remotely okay.” 

James put his hand on your blanket covered knees. “Y/N, we’re so fucking sorry for everything. You shouldn’t have been tormented. We shouldn’t have taken advantage of you when you wanted safety and we damn sure shouldn’t have tossed you back to the wolves.”

They all agreed. Seeing everything from your perspective made them sick. Many times during your trial, they wanted to stop watching. Honestly, they had forgotten so much of what they had done. You were evil and thrown in Azkaban so why would they remember anything about you? 

You listened to each one of them apologize. They each gave very long speeches that seemed very thought out. Remus sighed. 

“We’re asking for your forgiveness but we don’t expect it. It wouldn’t be a surprise if you were angry at us until the end of time—”

You stopped looking at the tea you hadn’t drunk to shake your head.

“I’m not angry, I was never angry.” 

“You’re not?” 

You took a deep breath. “I was scared. I am scared… of everyone.” 

Everyone looks down at their hands in their laps. They were the reason. You didn’t have a single person to truly support you. Even the Death Eater posse turned real Death Eaters were only around because they were kissing up to your father. 

“Y/N,” Lily started. “If we can help you in any way, even a way we aren’t thinking of, please tell us.” 

You nodded. “You bought the mug, didn’t you, James?” 

“I looked in the bag you had dropped and saw it was broken… Again, about what I did, I’m so sorr—”

“Please don’t. No one means sorry. People used to say sorry I was in the way of their spells. Those Aurors said sorry every time they fucked me. When people say sorry that means it’s my fault… It’s always my fault.” 

“Absolutely nothing is your fault. I won’t say sorry anymore, okay? I’ll just show you. I won’t ever hurt you again, I won’t let anything hurt you either.” 

They echoed James’ sentiments. You nodded and finally took a sip of the still hot tea. You weren’t sure if you believed them. You didn’t really believe anyone’s words anymore.

(part 9)

FIC TAGLIST:

@thirsty4nonlivingmen​

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@venomsvl @peaches-n-sunscreen @summerellaz @supernaturallover2002 @sambucky8 @9daykrisr @thebitchinleo @23victoria @scarlets-widow @pagetpagetpagetpaget @lovexnatasha @awesomebooklover17 @1234-angelika @imatrisk @blackreaderatrisk @princess-jules47 @alexloveskili @a-marie-a @siriuslysirius1107

[total-drama-takes-takes-2]

celebrity manhunt

Inside a small studio, a large desk wraps around two seats, an orange striped background and TV monitor decorating the set behind them. In one seat, a tight-faced, full-lipped gentleman with stark black hair holds a bouquet of cue cards. Next to him, a tight-faced redhead in a blue dress is holding a clearly empty mug. 

“It’s a beautiful night here in Toronto, perfect temperature for the TV event of the season- that’s right, everyone- it’s time for the Gemmy’s!” 

The gentleman fixes his bowtie. “We’re reporting live, just a block away from the action- it’s your faves, Josh-”

“And Blaineley!” the ginger cuts in. “Welcome to a very special episode of Celebrity Manhunt! Tonight is the night, folks- it’s time for gossip, cheer, and chatter about this year’s nominees!”

“Who will be taking home the gold? Stay tuned to find out!”

“Josh, that was my line,” Blaineley hisses. He rolls his eyes. 

“In only half an hour, our field reporters will be walking the red carpet with this season’s celebrity stars- until then, let’s catch up with the juiciest gossip from the past year,” Josh grins. “With a special focus on our personal faves, and the audience choice’s- the Total Takes Island cast!”

“Those teens braved it all on the newly-resurfaced Wawanakwa island, competing in death-defying challenges and looking fly while doing it!” Blaineley squeals. “Just to come back for another season of screams, screams, and crazy teens on the set of Total Takes Action!”

“Those are some brave contract holders, especially after watching what happened to the other casts,” John winks. “And like our blasts from the past, these teens have scored a nomination in the category for Best Reality Ensemble.”

“Let’s cross our fingers for them this time, Josh,” Blaineley chuckles. Her smile seems forced. “But before then, let’s catch our audience up to speed with everything that’s happened since Total Takes Action closed its doors- or should I say, gates?”

"Sure thing, Blain- from breakups to makeups to arrest records and more, our stars have had a lot going on for them!" Josh grins. "O has been living the high life back home, but not before starting an advocacy group for those who were negatively affected by the psychiatric healthcare system. Peter was spotted giving a promise ring to his girlfriend, Lois- still going strong! And Kitty's been banned from at least eight national parks in the United States so far,"

"Speaking of spectacles, let’s talk about Alistair’s award-winning performance as Disco Horatio in the viral Broadway musical 70’s Hamlet, a pop-infused retelling of the classic play,”

“Alistair’s performance was so good that he even found himself a brand new fanbase of Hamlet-crazed fangirls- some of which have been taking things a little too far,”

An image of Alistair’s character in a Miku binder fixes itself on screen. It's been autographed.

“Yikes- but hey, if he's owning it, then more power to him! Next up, we're talking about the pop sensation band that’s been on everyone’s minds- that’s right, guys, we’re talking the Takes Three trio!”

Blaineley grins as a sequence of images of McLovin, Sha-Mod, and Joner starts overlaying the screen. “Our Total Takes faves shocked the world when they released their first album, Boi Tearz, to widespread critical acclaim,”

“The rap-swing-darkwave fusion has been called “surprisingly tolerable” by critics, leading the Takes Three to their own claim to fame outside of reality TV. Make sure to stay tuned, because we'll have them right here after the break!”

---

The Celebrity Manhunt logo flashes across screen and then fades as the studio comes into focus. McLovin, Sha-Mod, and Joner are all sitting beside each other at the end of the table, wearing matching outfits.

"Takes Three- you've been called international pop sensations by at least six Twitter users. How do you respond?"

"We're just grateful for our fans," Joner says, shrugging. "Making music for the world to enjoy is a rite of passage where I'm from."

Blaineley blinks. "The Midwest?"

"Yeah, it's been crazy. We've been signing all kinds of notepads!" Sha-Mod nods. "Big ones, little ones, ones shaped like circles..."

"I didn't even know you could make circle paper," McLovin shakes his head. "Our tour has been world-changing."

"Eye-opening," Sha-Mod agrees. "And to thank you for inviting us on the show, we wrote a song for you. Ready, guys?"

All three reach under their chairs and pull out three sets of bongos. They look between each other.

"I though I was bringing the bongos," McLovin says.

"No, you were bringing the synthesizer. I was bringing the bongos!" Joner responds.

"I thought you were taking the triangle!"

Blaineley and Josh look at each other, then back to the trio.

“So, boys, how has skyrocketing to commercial and financial success affected your bonds on a scale from “a lot” to “IMPOSSIBLE to ignore!”?” Blaineley asks, grinning widely. The three stop bickering and immediately turn to her.

“You know, we’re actually closer than ever,” McLovin states, matter-of-factly. “Our music is a really hands-on creative process.”

“Yeah, can’t have rap-swing-darkwave without the swing!” Sha-Mod smiles, setting down the bongos. "Or the rap- or the darkwave!"

Joner nods. “It's been chill. Our new album-”

“BORING!” Blaineley shouts, pulling a lever behind her. The floor under the three musicians disappears and they scream as they disappear. "All I heard there was "blah blah blah" let's get to the real juicy gossip, shall we? It looks like it’s finally splitsville for Patjulia.”

Josh chuckles. “Oh, yes, after months of vicious dating, our sources indicate that those villains-to-be have finally called it quits- and publicly, at that. Our undercover reporters came across this juicy little tidbit. Roll the tape!”

---

The monitor fizzles to life and focuses on the inside of a restaurant that looks like a tornado went through it. A chair flies across the screen and the camera whirls around to one side of the room, where Julia is screaming and throwing furniture. 

“I should’ve NEVER even TALKED to you!”

The camera pans around to the other side of the room, where Patrick throws a handful of spaghetti back. “You should be HONORED I gave you the time of the day!”

“Your hair looks like a dead rat got glued to your head!”

“That’s rich, coming from a fake blonde!”

“IT’S NOT FAKE! We are so over!”

“You’re not breaking up with me! I’m breaking up with you!”

Julia throws a table and it sends Patrick flying across the room and straight out the back wall, creating a him-shaped hole in the plaster. He screams one final "YAHHH OH HOO HOOEY!!" as he goes flying.

---

“Yikes,” Josh chuckles. “That’s gonna leave a mark!”

“Where’s Scruffy during all this, you may ask? Well, they’re busy interning for Sierra of Reality, Weekly!” Blaineley announces. 

An image of Scruffy wearing a pair of sunglasses and an earpiece, walking beside a woman with dark brown hair in her 30s flashes across the screen. 

"What an upgrade from Total Takes, wouldn't you say?"

"Oh absolutely- especially after Wawanakwagate,"

Blaineley nods. "But, speaking of relationships- Bonsar- to date or not to date?”

Josh grins. “That IS the question! The two best friends were seen holding hands downtown, sending fans WILD! In a recent press statement, Caesar did little to calm the masses,”

---

The monitor changes scenes to a press conference. Standing before a crowd of reporters and microphones, Caesar adjusts his bow tie and clears his throat while Bonnie is sitting on the stage, playing on their Switch. 

“I just want to restate that Bonnie and I are under no obligation to explain anything to the press,”

A reporter waves his hand. “So are you dating or not?”

Caesar smacks his forehead.

---

"Looks like trouble in paradise to me, Blain!"

"You said it, Josh! You know who's been sailing on smooth seas lately, though? Maxchela!"

"OMG, totally! Fans are still swooning over Max and Michela after they were named Reality couple of the year by Reality, Weekly,"

“Unfortunately, we here at Celebrity Manhunt were unable to reach the two for comment. Luckily, our star reporter under the pseudonym “Noco”, was able to get the inside scoop!” Blaineley smiles.

The camera pans over to Noco, who’s half-shadowed to protect his identity. He clears his throat. “I just want to say, first of all, that my findings have reliable and true evidence behind them,” 

He stands and pulls a poster down behind him- revealing a screen covered in images of Max and Julia with strings between them. “Let’s say, hypothetically, that Maxchela was staged,”

The light above him suddenly flickers on. He sighs.

“OOOKAY THEN!” Blaineley says, redirecting the camera back over to her. “More on that later! In the meantime, we have a very special guest joining us today- one you Canadian viewers at home might recognize right away as the household name of the month!"

Josh grins. “When Chris McLean’s arrest became an international media sensation, sparking thousands of internet “memes” after his mugshot went viral, there was one name to take the claim to fame,”

“Toronto Environmental Coalition’s own leader, Albert, led an independent investigation of Wawanakwa after former contestant Scary came forward with a case- but it was him who found evidence of illegal radioactive materials on the island,” Blaineley continues, images of the investigation flashing across the screen. "The case brought international attention to the Coalition, and to Albert himself."

“The scandal broke the Wawanakwa mystery wide open. Here with us today is Canada's sweetheart, Albert,”

The camera zooms out and reveals a third person at the table. Albert- a teenage boy with dark brown hair, wearing a gray windbreaker- adjusts his lav mic and then smiles awkwardly. 

“So, Albert- since your case went viral, you’ve been called a top-notch advocate, a genius, even a national hero. How does it feel to be getting all this attention?”

He thinks for a moment. “Um… well, I suppose at the end of the day the only thing that matters is the coalition, and the attention has drawn in a lot of donations!”

“Yeah, whatever,” Blaineley chuckles. “You’re the star of an international scandal- you’re a hero! How does it feel?”

“Uh… fine. I guess. What I’d really prefer talking about is the monthly agenda for the TEC, we’re planning on hosting a protest at a meat processing plant in-”

Josh clears his throat. “Our sources indicate that you and Scary were an item at one point. Is this true?”

Albert goes pale. “I- um, no comment, thank you,” he then leans in to whisper. “I thought we were going to be talking about the coalition.” 

“On this show? No chance!” Blaineley shouts, startling him and sending him flying backwards. “Celebrity Manhunt is about the drama, drama, drama!”

Albert cringes. “Is there anything else we can talk about, then?”

"We can talk about the juicy, juicy drama happening on the red carpet right now," Blaineley chuckles. "Looks like the first of the cast has arrived to the Poultry Pals sponsored Gemmy's!"

Albert holds up a finger. "Um- what was that last part? The sponsor?"

Josh leans in, his palm against his face. He whispers. "Since ratings have gone down, award shows have corporate sponsors now. Turns out the meat industry is bananas for awards!"

"That's- that's the business I'm supposed to be protesting," Albert stands. "I have to go!"

He runs out of the room, and Blaineley rolls her eyes. "Guess we know why Chris McLean was acquitted and found innocent, huh?"

Josh chuckles. "That we do, Blain. That we do. But let's talk about these red carpet looks, cause honey these contestants are serving!"

---

The red carpet outside the Gemmy's is surrounded by shouting fans and photographers. O waves as he walks inside the building, followed shortly by Alistair, then McLovin, both so preoccupied with waving to the crowd that they crash into each other.

Another limo pulls up on the scene and Peter steps out with a short ginger. She shows off her promise ring to the paparazzi and giggles.

Peter and Alistair fistbump as they reach the door.

"Aw, how sweet. Friends forever!" Blaineley's voice overlays the scene.

"It's nice to see those teens getting along," Josh adds. "Ope- and there's Scary, just released from the lead prison she was stuck in from radioactivity!"

Scary arrives next, her hair dyed a warm honey brown. She makes a show of coughing and wheezing as he exits his limo in a wheelchair, then rolls up the carpet.

"My, my, aren't they looking just proper?" Blaineley tsks. "I love that shade of brown on her!"

A photographer gets too close with his camera and Scary stands, beating him over the head with her wheelchair, before sitting back down in it and rolling indoors.

"What a stellar start to the most anticipated award season EV-AR!" Josh squeals. "Let's check in with Noco on the field."

---

“Reporting live from… wherever I am,” Noco says, squinting. He’s holding a microphone and looking around, slightly annoyed. The cast looks relatively tame, most just merrily chatting with each other. “Here's, uh, I don't know. Austin or whatever. Hey, Austin, you and Kelly get back together?"

"No, baby, I've been single and free! To hell with monogamy!" Austin shouts, flipping on a pair on sunglasses, tearing off his shirt and running off screaming.

Noco stares into the camera. “Now can I do my Maxulia bit?”

“Um. No,” Blaineley says, still in the studio. “What is UP with these drama-less hacks?! Someone get Ass and Courtney here, pronto!”

Noco rolls his eyes and walks down the carpet, approaching Courtney, who’s catching up with Bonnie. “Comment?” Noco asks. 

“Hm?” Courtney turns, then blinks. “Um, comment on what?”

“Ass,”

“Ugh. None, thank you!”

“I heard that!” Ass shouts from across the carpet. Courtney rolls their eyes. 

Staci and Mal walk down the carpet next to each other, arguing about welding. Noco sighs. “Now can I-”

“NO!” Blaineley and Josh yell in unison. 

Michela, walking alongside Max, stops suddenly and puts her hands on her hips. “Does this venue feel a little empty to anyone else?”

The camera zooms out- the group is on a carpet, but there's no reporters, no photographers, no fans to be seen.

“No, I see what you mean. I was thinking there’d be more… I don’t know, people,” Max says, then sighs.

“Did we get the right address?” Scruffy asks. “I mean, we’re all here, so we got sent the same e-vite, right?”

Mal pulls out her phone and reads intently. “Yep. This is the place,”

Another limo pulls up and Julia and Patrick stumble out, shouting at each other and having a slap-fight.

Joner and Sha-Mod look between each other. "Hey," the latter says. "Did we lose McLovin?"

Kelly walks up to the two and puts their hand right above their eyes, shielding their vision from the fluorescent lighting. "I don't see him,"

"Who else are we missing?" Michela asks. But before anyone can do a head count, a voice rings out from the distance.

"WAIT! WAIT! DON'T GO IN YET!" it shouts. The crowd turns in the direction it's coming from and Albert runs up, then collapses on the carpet, wheezing. "Don't go in..." he coughs. "Protest..."

"What's this supposed to be?" Ass asks, putting their hands on their hips.

Albert takes a moment to compose himself, then stands. He dusts off his windbreaker and pants, then pulls a small card out of his pocket. It reads "TEC Charter: LEADER".

"My name is Albert, and I am condemning this award show on behalf of the Toronto Environmental Coalition!"

"What award show, Einstein?" Ass snaps. "There's nothing out here!"

Albert looks around. Nothing but crickets. "Oh,"

Bonnie sighs and walks past him, approaching the doors of the supposed venue. “Let me guess-” they open one and the entire front of the building collapses. "Yep. Thought as much," 

“It’s CARDBOARD?!” Caesar shouts. “My hair took FOUR HOURS to do!”

“This has got to be some kind of Chris thing,” Staci says, crossing her arms. “Maybe it’s a scavenger hunt.”

“Oh, no, no way. I am not playing these little games again,” Ass says. “I’m going home.”

“Hey, everyone, we're still missing people,” Kelly says. 

Austin pops out of nowhere. “Yeah, baby, where’s the rest of the party at?”

Courtney does a quick headcount, then thinks for a moment. "I don't see O, Scary, Kitty, McLovin, Alistair, or Peter,"

"Kitty's in an Australian prison," Patrick says nonchalantly. Everyone turns to him. "What?"

"Never mind that. We need to figure out what's going on," Michela says, hands on her hips again.

Mal chuckles from across the carpet. "Guys, you should see this,"

The crowd hesitantly approaches her, peering over her shoulder to see a live broadcast of the Gemmy's on her phone.

"And the award for Best Reality Ensemble goes to... the teens of Total Takes!" the announcer shouts.

Peter, O, McLovin, and Alistair look nervously around their seats, as if trying to catch a glimpse of where everyone else disappeared to.

"Oh, crap," Julia sighs. "We got sent the wrong damn address."

"Are you guys watching the Gemmy's?" a voice from ahead pipes up. The crowd diverts their attention from Mal's phone to see a scrawny boy standing on the street in front of them, drinking a slurpee loudly. "Cause it's a total hack. It's rigged by the woke police."

"Who are you?" Ass asks, crossing their arms.

"I'm Phillip, but you can call me Alejandro," he says confidently. "I was just out training, to fight SJWs. You know how it is."

He does a few karate punches. No one seems very impressed.

"Do you know where the Gemmy's are?" Courtney chimes in.

"Oh, yeah. They're way across town. They're wrapping up soon, anyway, you shouldn't bother with them. Everything comes to an end, after all,"

"Ooookay," Michela says. Max rolls his eyes.

"Do you guys ever think about how red slurpees make your mouth look like you've been drinking blood... heh... just me, then... I have a twisted mind,"

"Am I dead?" Ass turns to Courtney. "Did I die and go to hell?"

"Enough whining. I'm going home," Bonnie snaps.

"NOT so fast!" A voice shouts. The sound of a helicopter hanging overhead makes everyone jump and turn skywards. Chris McLean pilots the aircraft, making a smooth landing in front of the teens (but not before sending Phillip and Austin flying in the wind).

The disgraced host steps out of his helicopter, grinning. "You teens have a contract to uphold!"

"What is going on?" Caesar demands. "This wasn't in my contract!"

"Oh, right. You're "exempt" because of your "lawsuit"," Chris air quotes, rolling his eyes. "Bonnie, on the other hand..."

Caesar pales. Bonnie chimes in. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about a brand-spanking-new season of Total Takes- that's right- we're doing TOTAL TAKES: WORLD TOUR!"

No one makes any noise besides Scruffy, who squeals in delight.

"Thank you. Glad to see someone's excited,"

"Okay, let me get this straight," Julia starts. "You lie to us about the Gemmy's location, drag us to the middle of nowhere in Toronto, make us hang out with these freaks-" she gestures to Albert and Phillip. "And Now you're saying we have to do ANOTHER SEASON?"

"Man, you guys need better lawyers," Chris chuckles. "You have a long, long few weeks coming for ya."

The teens look between each other nervously.

"And not only you- as your contract dictates, any and all at the time of casting are required to join- that means you," Chris points to Albert. "And you," he points to Phillip, plastered against a nearby wall.

"You cannot be serious," Ass says. "I want to talk to your lawyers!"

"No can do, buddy. This is set in stone. See you all soon!"

He chuckles as he gets back into his helicopter and starts off, leaving the cast abandoned. They look at each other one last time before the screen fades to black.

[blackr23]

240410

🐰🐷 To be honest, we didn't think we would win the prize (daesang) after performing on stage, so we took our internal monitor and prepared to leave .

Duddenly they called us,…. There was still some hope left, so I was quite taken aback when we received the award.

[kuramirocket]

Mexican biologist Yuliana Bedolla 

Off Mexico's west coast, the Baja California Pacific Islands are key global nesting sites for 23 seabird species and Natividad Island shelters 90 percent of the breeding population of the Black-vented Shearwater (Puffinus opisthomelas).

Mexican conservation biologist Yuliana Rocío Bedolla Guzmán, Director of the Marine Birds Project at Grupo de Ecología y Conservación de Islas (GECI) says that invasive mammals like cats and rats wiped out at least 27 seabird colonies in the past.

The researchers have been working with fishing cooperatives to decrease the likelihood of reintroductions that would lead to expensive eradication efforts.

"In 2021, we created the local community group “Líderes Comunitarios'' formed by enthusiastic and committed women who have received formal training on island biosecurity and bird identification, and are becoming agents of change in their communities," Bedolla says.

Recently, Bedolla won a 2023 Whitley Award from UK charity Whitley Fund for Nature (WFN) and will use the funding to boost the role of local women and fishing cooperative.

"The goal is to continue preventing the accidental introduction of invasive mammals on Natividad and San Benito Oeste islands by actively involving local leaders and fishing cooperatives in biosecurity protocols," she says.

"My Grain of Sand"

Bedolla grew up far from the sea in Moroleón, a small town in central Mexico, where she enjoyed being out in nature.

"But I had my Eureka moment when I learned to snorkel when I was 12 years old at a beach in Zihuatanejo, Guerrero, in the Mexican Pacific," she says adding that she remembered a feeling of amazement, wonder and a new sense of connection to nature.

"That experience was life-changing for me and marked the beginning of my journey as a conservationist," Bedolla says, "From that moment on, I knew I wanted to become a marine biologist and contribute with my grain of sand."

She would go on to study Marine Biology at the Universidad Autónoma de Baja California Sur in La Paz, Baja California Sur, Mexico, learning to dive and study coral reefs and associated invertebrates on several islands in the Gulf of California.

Bedolla would contact GECI in the course of her masters degree and years later, after a Phd in Germany, GECI offered her the directorship of the Marine Birds Project.

Bedolla says that being from the Global South helps her to bring diverse perspectives and approaches to scientific research, which can lead to more innovative and creative solutions.

The San Benito Islands, which is among the islands Yuliana Bedolla is trying to protect from invasive species

Yuliana is a marine biologist, graduated with honors from the Autonomous University of Baja California Sur (UABCS).

She is a Master in Coastal Oceanography from the Autonomous University of Baja California (UABC) and a PhD candidate from the Justus Liebig University of Giessen in Germany. For her doctorate, she obtained a scholarship in Germany. Yuliana speaks Spanish and English and has basic knowledge of the German language. Her doctoral research focuses on the foraging ecology of three petrel species that nest in the San Benito Archipelago, in the Pacific of Baja California.

She began collaborating with the Ecology and Conservation of Islands Group, A.C., (GECI), in 2009 as a field biologist, and is currently the director of the Seabird Project, which aims to restore and conserve seabirds through the use of social attraction systems in conjunction with systematic monitoring, research and environmental education. She has carried out numerous research studies with national and international institutions. Her scientific publications in international journals focus on the response of seabirds to environmental conditions, the parasites that infect seabirds and the response of native fauna to the eradication of invasive mammals.

She has collaborated with several national seabird conservation programs and has been directly involved in environmental restoration projects in Isla Isabel, San Benito Archipelago, Banco Chinchorro and Arrecife Alacranes, related to the eradication of invasive rodents for the benefit of seabird colonies, among other island species. Her activities at GECI include project planning, staff coordination and supervision, applied research and monitoring, environmental education with local communities and dissemination of information in conferences and scientific reports and publications.

Source

[royalpain16]

THE SECOND ANNUAL SUMMIT WILL UNVEIL THE FIFTEEN 2023 EARTHSHOT PRIZE FINALISTS WHO ARE TRAILBLAZING CLIMATE SOLUTIONS TO REPAIR OUR PLANET BY 2030

The Earthshot Prize and Bloomberg Philanthropies today announced they will co-host the second Earthshot Prize Innovation Summit on September 19, 2023, in New York City with the founder of The Earthshot Prize, Prince William, expected to attend.

Held during New York Climate Week and the 78th Session of the UN General Assembly, the Summit will convene previous Earthshot Prize Winners and Finalists with policymakers, global business leaders, philanthropists, and climate activists to scale their innovative solutions.

At the Summit, The Earthshot Prize will reveal this year’s 15 Finalists and introduce their groundbreaking climate and environmental solutions to repair our planet this decade on one of the biggest international stages.

To help drive meaningful change, and accelerate the collaborations and investments needed to scale those solutions, the Summit will connect the new and previous Earthshot Prize Finalists and Winners with forward-thinking business leaders, philanthropists, and governments already working to regenerate the planet. September’s Summit begins the countdown to The Earthshot Prize’s third annual Awards ceremony in Singapore, where, on November 7, 2023, five of the 15 Finalists will be awarded a catalytic £1 million to scale their cutting-edge solutions.

Alongside Prince William, Michael R. Bloomberg, Global Advisor to the Winners of The Earthshot Prize, will address the assembled guests. Other featured speakers will include policymakers, business leaders, climate innovators, and previous Earthshot Prize Winners and Finalists. The full agenda will be announced in due course

Founded by Prince William and The Royal Foundation in 2020, The Earthshot Prize is a global environmental prize to discover, accelerate, and scale ground-breaking solutions that can help put the world firmly on a trajectory toward a stable climate where communities, oceans, and biodiversity thrive in harmony by 2030.

Inspired by President John F. Kennedy’s Moonshot, which united millions of people around the goal of reaching the moon, The Earthshot Prize recognizes Finalists and Winners across five challenges, or ‘Earthshots’: Protect and Restore Nature, Clean our Air, Revive our Oceans, Build a Waste-free World, and Fix our Climate. The Prize aims to turn the current pessimism surrounding environmental issues into optimism and will discover 50 winners over 10 years with the power to repair the planet

The inaugural 2021 Earthshot Prize Finalists have already driven incredible impact with more than 1.5 million people benefiting directly from their solutions. Over 7,000 hectares of land and almost 2.1 million hectares of ocean have been protected or restored, while over 35,000 tonnes of CO2 emissions have been reduced, avoided, or sequestered. The 2022 Finalists, announced this past autumn, are well on their way to creating similar impact.

To help accelerate the work of the inaugural Finalists at last year’s Earthshot Prize Innovation Summit, Bloomberg Philanthropies committed more than $20 million through direct grants, co-funding, and other efforts to support the success of the inaugural Finalists and Winners of The Earthshot Prize 2021, including:

Scaling Takachar’s technology, which reduces smoke emissions from agricultural waste by up to 98%, through a pilot program in villages in the state of Punjab and Haryana, India.

Supercharging Pristine Seas’ 30×30 ocean protected goal through funding major ocean expeditions, helping establish more marine protected areas, and enhancing diplomacy and advocacy efforts. Pristine Seas has already helped establish 26 marine reserves worldwide, across an area over twice the size of India.

Scaling Coral Vita’s research capabilities to identify new restoration sites and monitor both restoration progress and local marine health after installation. Coral Vita’s cutting-edge methods to grow coral up to 50 times faster than nature can help replant our oceans and give new life to dying ecosystems.

Expanding the capacity of the Institute of Public and Environmental Affairs and Blue Map App to scale its data, research, and reporting capabilities.

Convening at least ten North American and European cities in partnership with C40 and NRDC to accelerate efforts to address food waste and food insecurity by sharing best practices from and helping to scale the City of Milan’s Local Food Waste Hub initiative, which currently provides about 260,000 meals to those most in need, to other cities.

As a mayor, entrepreneur, and philanthropist, Michael R. Bloomberg has long been a global leader in the fight against climate change. He has committed more than $1 billion to efforts across the world to mobilize cities and local leaders to reduce emissions, improve air quality, advance the global transition to clean energy, protect and preserve ocean ecosystems, and help unlock billions of dollars in sustainable finance.

Bloomberg helps lead a number of efforts including the C40 Cities Climate Leadership Group, Global Covenant of Mayors for Climate & Energy, America Is All In Coalition, Task Force on Climate-related Financial Disclosures, Climate Finance Leaders Initiative, and the Glasgow Financial Alliance for Net Zero.

“To effectively tackle the climate crisis, we need to invest in innovative solutions and new ideas that can accelerate global progress and help repair the planet. This year’s Earthshot Prize Finalists are great examples of the kind of bold action and creative thinking we need, and our team is looking forward to working with Prince William to support them as they expand their ambitions.”

Michael R. Bloomberg, the UN Secretary-General’s Special Envoy on Climate Ambition and Solutions, Founder of Bloomberg LP and Bloomberg Philanthropies, and 108th Mayor of New York City

“The Earthshot Prize scours the world to find entrepreneurs and innovators who exemplify the power of human ingenuity to address our most significant climate and environmental challenges. Our next class of Finalists are on the cutting-edge of some of the most exciting ideas and technologies, and with the support of our Global Alliance Partners and the global community gathering at the UN General Assembly, they have the potential to transform communities around the world for the better. By spotlighting the incredible work of our 2023 Finalists at the Earthshot Prize Innovation Summit, we hope to inspire a wave of positive change and unlock a more sustainable and resilient future.”

Hannah Jones, The Earthshot Prize CEO

[protoslacker]

For decades, Israel, an occupying power, has managed to depict itself as a victim in a state of self-defence. Without any critical voices in mainstream media, many around the world believed Israel’s deceiving discourse on terrorism, security and self-defence. The only obstacle that stood between the actual truth and Israel’s engineered version of the truth are honest journalists – thus, the ongoing war on the media. What Israel did not anticipate, however, is that by blocking international media access to Gaza, it would inadvertently empower Palestinian journalists to take charge of their own narrative.

Ramzy Baroud at Informed Comment, first in Middle East Monitor. Makes me feel Sad for the Rest: Why Palestinian Journalists in Gaza are the Real Journalists

Palestinian journalists covering Gaza awarded 2024 UNESCO/Guillermo Cano World Press Freedom Prize

[onlinebookclub-org]

Book of the Day, April 8th -- Sci-Fi/Fantasy, Rated 5/5 stars

Free exclusively through the Onlinebookclub.org Review Team! Get your copy below: https://forums.onlinebookclub.org/shelves/book.php?id=652868

EMA by Aian D. Grey

This book received a PERFECT 5-star rating from an Official Onlinebookclub.org Reviewer, has three 5-star ratings on Amazon, and received the Literary Titan Book Award! It was also submitted for the "Best Indie Book Award" and "2024 International Book Awards"!

The book has great reviews (see author's web site at http://denisboulanger.ca/book.html?book=book3&lang=en).

----------

Year 2084. The Earth has warmed by more than two degrees Celsius compared to pre-industrial times. Damien Minsky, a genius inventor, has created EMA: an artificial intelligence designed to monitor and control the ecological consequences of our consumer society.

When an attack happens, Jason Webb, a great admirer of Minsky, is drawn into an adventure where cyberpirates and megalomaniacs meet in the Metaverse!

April 8th marks an extraordinary event in eastern America: a total eclipse of the sun. Highlight this day by reading "EMA", a techno-thriller about the future of our planet.

"Some books stand out because they take us on exciting journeys filled with big ideas and important questions. *EMA* by Aian D. Grey is one such book. I recommend this story to readers who enjoy science fiction with a focus on environmental issues and advanced technology." ~ OBC Reviewer

----------

https://forums.onlinebookclub.org/shelves/book.php?id=652868