#like i look at america and the uk and go 'jesus fucking christ what is happening'!!

[youlooklikeasixtiesqueen]

it boggles my mind that there are people who haven't spend the last six months worried about the fast rising increase in antisemitism

[imthefailedartist]

Being the Only One

Ain't no black girls Nathan could crush on?

This what be pissing me off about them casting black leads on majority white shows. They be the ONLY black person. It forces this exceptional negro air over everything.

Then the black person be going through stuff and the racial implications be out of this world. It's looking like Nathan is being hate-crimed at home and school and no one is doing anything about it. Then they all other him constantly. If he defends himself it's gonna be, "the scary black man attacked a white kid. We told you he was evil from the start."

I know it's like this because the UK doesn't have the budgets that America has so they aren't going to risk casting more than one black person as the lead on a show because then it's a "Black" show and white people aren't going to tune in. It's the same in America but we get a few "Black" shows to make it not as obnoxious.

I'm tired.

Also, all these white people look alike. I'm tired of the interracial, one of them is white, agenda. Just once could the black person be into someone black. Jesus fucking christ.

I hope he kill the fuck out of his sister. I don't want to see no redemption arc for her bitch ass.

Me as Nathan beats that white boys ass:

Gon head baby, get 'em one time for me.

So, not one person has thought about the racial implications of any of this.

One black child getting the shit kicked out of him by eight white people. Also, making him sleep in a cage. Not one thought in these people's heads.

Great, Nathan has two love interests and not one of them is Black or at the least a non-black POC. Bullshit.

Finally, a show about witches with a black lead, yet no one else is. I'm tie-ert.

[tessatechaitea]

The Invisibles #4

Is this how idiotic social beliefs are purged from assholes?

I don't understand the people who want less politics in comic books. We need more politics in comic books! Except what I don't really understand is using the word "politics" when they're actually angry about discussing social ills. Except I really do understand what they mean when they refer to social issues as politics. Certain people refer to being compassionate and kind and inclusive as "political correctness" because they can't imagine being compassionate or kind or inclusive until the cost of not being those things adversely affects them. So they think people only believe in being that way if it confers some kind of selfish advantage, usually in the political arena. And thus actually being a compassionate human being becomes political to them. Also, can we just stop arguing about how comic books used to be when they've always been about making the world a better place and there have always been comic book fans who found that political because they were terrible people? A terrible person reading a comic book where Batman stops some bank robbers can feel good about the story because they know they'll never rob a bank. But when Batman deals with some social ill, the terrible reader might see themselves reflected back at them in the villain of the story. Suddenly, to them, the story has become political. How dare the comic book company choose the other side which is just a political difference and not a basic human decency issue! And they never think, "Maybe, like Batman, I should also try to do better?" No, instead they send a letter to the publisher demanding that the publisher change the stories they tell so that they don't have to take a long, hard look at themselves. Ideas are political. If you think a story about Batman breaking the bones of The Joker's henchmen because The Joker is robbing banks isn't political, you're kidding yourself. You're just not looking deeply enough into the story and the systemic problems in Gotham that creates a demand for henchmen that are desperate enough to work for a maniac who could murder them at any moment while also having to worry about a man in a bat suit nearly killing them for working for the maniac. How is a billionaire going out at night dressed as a flying rodent to beat up poor and mentally ill people not political? How is any Superman story not political when it's about an immigrant to America embracing his new country and trying to make it a better place for everybody? If you actually think you want comic books to not be political, you're telling on yourself. You're just saying that you're the type of person who doesn't want to read criticism's about our world that might make you feel guilty about your selfish attitude. The Invisibles is an old comic book which came out 26 years ago and it couldn't be more political. But then it's dealing with magic and the irreality of reality, so if you're dumb enough, you can probably pretend it's not political at all.

This issue begins with a Books of Magic trading card.

At the end of the last issue, Tom told Dane they were going to climb to the top of the skyscraper with the magic pyramid on top and leap off. It was going to teach Dane about the finality of life and not really kill him. But when this issue begins, they seem to have put that off for the moment. Instead, they've stolen a sports car, driven it out to some sleepy little UK pasture, and begun a game of catch with a Frisbee. Tom starts rambling on about how his time is up and he's going to die because he's a warrior sorcerer and his time is up and he can see the shape of his life and it's super small and everything sucks but it also doesn't, you know? Dane barely listens to him because he's now full of life again and he just wants to do the things people who feel alive do. I don't know what those things are because I just sit in barely lit rooms reading terrible books from my youth and finding reasons not to begin writing my second module for my role playing game, Places & Predators. I should take a break and call my mother! I'm back! I also ate and watched an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation and an episode of Community and lay on the couch with Gravy.

Gravy's head is behind mine and not inside mine because we don't own a teleportation device and, if we did, we wouldn't be so careless with it.

The next day, Tom and Dane head off to jump off of a skyscraper. Tom will presumably be doing it for real because he's tired and he's done his part and he thinks Dylan Thomas is a fucking asshole who can't just let a person die in peace when they're ready to go. I mean, lay off me, Dylan! I'm fucking dying here! This isn't about you and your fear of death (which, ironically, is probably why you drink so much and why you'll be dead at 39). Dane smokes some blue mold which will probably allow him to fly or bounce or something. Sometimes I think about the angst of youth and then I think about how optimistic and embracing Quiet Riot was of the youth and youth culture and it just makes me fucking smile, man. That wasn't supposed to be a non sequitur. That was just a reaction I had to Tom telling some bystanders witnessing Dane's drug induced realizations, "It's drugs. Dope. They're all on it nowadays. With their computer games and violent videos and swear words. We had The Bible and a nice apple when I was his age." Tom is being smarmy and telling the adults what they want to hear. And, especially with reference to their video games, it made me think of Quiet Riot who didn't care what adults wanted to hear. They knew what the kids needed to hear. And it wasn't just "Being a teenager sucks and we get it and the world is garbage!" Their message was often "We see how things are different for you and how you cope differently than we did and we fucking get it man and we approve and you're going to be all right. Your doing good, kids." Most of you probably only know "Metal Health" and "Cum on Feel the Noize" so you're thinking, "What the fuck are you talking about?" But some of you also know "Winners Take All" and "The Wild and the Young" so you fucking know what I'm talking about.

This reminds me of The Last Temptation of Christ.

The problem with books that revolve around Jesus is that I truly can't tell if they're making a statement about secular life or if they're truly reinforcing the opinion that Jesus was the son of God and the only truth you need to know about Jesus is that he was resurrected. Was Jesus preaching about being good on Earth because it was the salvation of your soul and your way into heaven? Or was Jesus literally trying to tell everybody to give unto Caesar what is Caesar's because this shit don't matter, bro. Fuck Earth and Earthly conceits. Should every action taken on Earth be concerned with your spiritual self and your relationship with God and getting into heaven? Because I'm tempted to see The Last Temptation of Christ as a parable for secular life. Are we all Christ in the desert being tempted by the devil away from our true calling? But if all the regular trappings of society are illusions and lures away from whatever it is we should do, what is there really? What would a person do if they didn't have a career? Or a spouse? Or a mortgage? Or a child? Not falling for those temptations isn't enough, right? So what's the next step? Sacrificing your own desires for the common good of the world? But what common good would that be if people aren't supposed to fall for any material temptations?! What are we striving for if we aren't striving for everybody to equally fall for the same societal illusions?! What is the magic asking of us?! To just burn it all down to prove that we weren't fooled by any of it?! How is waking up outside of The Matrix better than living within it?! Show me my fucking cards before you ask me to jump off the top of a skyscraper is what I'm saying! You know what? I think that's what Jesus asked God the night of the Last Supper! Jumping off of a skyscraper to get Dane to pierce the illusion of reality and see what lies beneath is way better than giving him a red or blue pill. The Matrix pussed out, even though it had this scene from The Invisibles as a perfect example of what it was doing. Dane survives the leap and finds himself in a four color comic sci-fi pulp novel cover. The world has changed and he's not sure what to do. So he goes to the address of the Invisible College that Tom gave him. He's finally ready to report for duty. Dane meets the other Invisibles: King Mob, Ragged Robin, Boy, and Lord Fanny (which would have gone right over my head in 1994 and possibly only made it into the comic book because the editors didn't know quite enough British slang). As far as drag names go, Lord Fanny is proper good. Meanwhile, some shadowy guy answers a phone call from Orlando (probably exactly the Orlando you're thinking of because why not? He/she was good enough for The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen). They discuss raiding an Invisibles safe house they've discovered. But the non-Orlando guy on the phone can't direct it because he's got British politics to do.

Back in 1994, I also wouldn't have understood what this door with the 10 on it was telling me about the person on the phone.

Dane decides to stick with The Invisibles as Jack Frost and they make their getaway before Orlando and the Prime Minister's Myrmidons break into the safe house. All they find is a chalkboard that reads, "Big Brother is watching you. Learn to become invisible," and a pink grenade with the word "smile" printed on it in ransom letter letters. And that's the end of the first story arc. The Invisibles #4 Rating: A. I'm seriously getting angry at my 23 year old self for not continuing to purchase this series. It's hard to remember exactly where I was at that time in my life that caused me to stop reading it. I'm sure I liked it. Maybe I just had trouble remembering it from month to month. Or maybe I just missed Issue #6 at the comic book store (I never had anything put on hold. I'd just show up on Wednesdays (unless it was Thursday back then? I can't even remember that!) and pick up my books (I didn't even ask the store to hold a copy of the Death of Superman for me. The clerk, Jeff, just happened to hold one for me anyway. He probably thought I was super cool or something)) and so just forgot about the series. Maybe I'll pick up the collected edition whenever my local comic book store reopens. Although if I show my face in there, they may try to get me to buy comics that were placed in my pull box after I cancelled my pull box. See, they weren't getting comics from Diamond for over a month and I just decided it was as good a time as any to stop buying new comics. So I cancelled my pull box. But what if, in their mind, I was still on the hook to buy all the comics for the weeks that Diamond didn't ship?! That would be fucked up and, knowing me, I'd instantly cave and say, "Oh yeah! Okay! Sorry! Sorry! I'll purchase all of this shit I don't want anymore just so we don't continue this awkward conversation!"

[nastybuckybarnes]

Bodyguard  -  Two

Pairing: Bodyguard!Bucky X Politician!Reader

Summary: As a young and controversial politician, you face some opposition. After a death threat is made and your security is at risk, you agree to get a bodyguard. You don’t expect him to be the most irritating and attractive man on the planet. With a history so deep and twisted you never thought you’d figure it out, a terrible corporation is determined to take you out of the political picture; using any means necessary. The only question is, how far is James willing to go to ensure your safety?

Warnings: Angst, Violence, threats, injuries, kidnapping, drugging, political talk (not a lot), terrorism (Wait for the plot twist tho guys), Smut, Fluff, PTSD, (More to Come)

Word Count: 1.5K

A/n: And part two!! Slow for now, but wait ‘till the next chapter. oh looooords

BASED OFF OF THE NETFLIX ORIGINAL: BODYGUARD TAGLIST IS OPEN MASTERLIST Part one

~*~

"Three attacks in nine months. How does that make you feel, Madame Secretary?” You think about the interviewer's question for a moment before answering.

“It saddens me that so many innocent lives have been lost. But it also makes me curious about the reason behind the attacks. Why attack the train station and the bus stop and the coffee shop? What’s the connection? What is the point? These attacks are targeting innocents, why? What lesson is being taught here?” He nods and glances at the screen over your shoulder.

“What do you plan to do about them? Many have said that these are attacks from foreign countries in the Middle East. Should we reintroduce a ban on Middle Eastern people?” You scoff out loud, shaking your head at how stupid he sounds.

“What would that solve? There are speculations built on fear, that the terrorists were not white. However, there is absolutely no proof that the terrorists weren’t Americans. I will not advise a ban on an entire group of people, based on incidents of the past. If we count up all the casualties from terrorist attacks by white Americans, we’re looking at thousands of deaths and hundreds of thousands of injuries. I refuse to allow the fear of a few sways the opinions of many. To make myself explicitly clear, there is no proof of any race being responsible for the terrorist attacks. There is also no ban on any race thus far. We are not banning anyone from our country, so long as our laws are being followed and our rights are being adhered to.”

The interview ends shortly after that and you couldn’t be happier.

“Thank you again for coming in, Madame Secretary.” As the reporter goes to shake your hand, a man bumps into him, causing him to bump into you and spill your coffee all over your blouse.

You gasp, the hot drink burning your skin, and jump away from the man.

“Shit! Jesus Fucking Christ!” You glance at your ruined blouse and pinche the bridge of your nose.

“I’m meeting with a representative of the President in half an hour!” You try to calm down and think of how to fix your shirt.

“Where’s Wanda! Have her bring me a fresh blouse!” You order, glaring at the man behind the interviewer.

“There’s no time,” Sergeant Barnes says from behind you, tugging his tie off and slipping out of his suit jacket. You watch as he sheds his white shirt, eyes fluttering to his left arm.

It’s made completely out of metal.

“My shirt has been altered to fit over my vest. The chest to waist ratio should be compatible.” His eyes flicker over your torso for a moment before returning to your face. “Shirt is fresh this morning, Ma’am.” You offer him a smile and take the warm white shirt from his hand. He pulls his suit jacket back on and buttons it up to cover his white kevlar vest.

“Here, I’ll show you to the restroom.” You follow the interviewer, Sergeant Barnes a step behind you.

The shirt is warm and incredibly comfortable when you put it on. You tuck it into your pants and situate your Jacket to make it look more like a woman’s shirt, then leave the bathroom.

“Can’t even tell,” Barnes says, nodding to your new outfit. You smile a thank you then follow him out of the building and into the car that’s waiting for the two of you.

~

“Madame Secretary,” The PR says, shaking your hand firmly. “Mister Sitwell. Always a pleasure.” He nods and sits down with you, eyeing your bodyguard wearily for a moment.

“It’s a shame President Pierce couldn’t join us,” you say, trying to ease the tension.

“Yes. It is. However, he trusts that we’ll be brief but thorough.” You nod and start talking about what to do.

“The current terrorist threat level in America is at High. We want to get back down to Elevated at the least. I recommend being more thorough at all Airport security checkpoints and all borders. I also think it would be good to have more security throughout the country in general. At bus stations and train stations. Places with high civilian counts. I have a meeting with the Prime minister of Canada and I also will be speaking to the Home Secretary of the UK. After these meetings, I’ll have more information on what our next course of action should be.”

Sitwell nods and glances at his watch. “Keep myself and the President notified on any changes we must take. The safety of American citizens is our number one priority.”

The rest of the meeting goes by in a blur of conversations that you’ve grown tired of.

When the meeting’s finally over, you relax, eyes falling closed as the car drives smoothly towards your house.

~

You’re just stepping out of the shower when an odd feeling washes over you.

“Sergeant Barnes?” You call softly, turning off the lights in the bathroom and walking slowly to the window.

“Ma’am?” He knocks on the door then slowly opens it. His eyes find your towel-clad form but quickly move away when he sees the way you’re looking at the Window.

He presses on his earpiece and glances at you.

“Control, 10-12, stand by. Assistance may be needed at the southeast second-floor window.” He moves along the wall to the window and slowly glances out the blinds.

“Copy that, Barnes. Were on our way. ETA two minutes.”

“Control, 10-61. Man, late thirties in the tree 1-0 feet away from the window. Large camera in hand.”

Your heart beats faster as you realize they might catch the man who's been giving you so much trouble.

“Copy, I’ve got eyes on him. We’re closing in. Find a secure location inside the house for her for the time being.” Sergeant Barnes takes you by the arm and gingerly pulls you out of the bathroom.

“Get dressed quickly.” He turns his back to you and you stare at it for a minute. After deciding he won't turn around, you grab a pair of pyjamas and change quickly.

“Alright. We’ve got a 952 (suspicious vehicle) driving down her street. Licence plate Hotel-2-Delta-6-Romeo-4.” He mouths the words to himself a few times, trying to memorize them and their configuration.

“Barnes?” You ask softly, voice wavering slightly.

“Come with me.” You follow him to the guest bedroom, almost stumbling in the dark. When you finally reach the room, he sits you down on the bed, one gloved hand resting on his gun.

You bring your knees up to your chest and take deep breaths, calming yourself down as your bodyguard listens to whatever’s going on in his ear.

“He’s running! 10-80 (chase in progress). I need- oh shit!” Sam’s voice gets cut off by the sound of gunfire.

You squeak on the bed at the loud noise, pressing your forehead to your knees.

“Control, what the Hell’s happening out there?” He looks over at you then glances out the window, trying to see something. Anything.

“10-32 (man with gun), keep her inside. Suspect has a gun and has opened fire. Move to the basement, Barnes.”

He takes you by the hand and pulls you out of the room and down the stairs, catching you when you miss a step and almost eat shit.

“To the basement,” he whispers, eyes darting around the house. You hurry down another flight of stairs and watch as he scans the area before deeming it safe.

You sit down on the ground and lean your head against the wall, overwhelmed by everything that’s going on.

“Hey, you’re gonna be okay.” You nod with his words, knowing you won’t be hurt. This is all mostly a huge inconvenience anyway.

“Control, Suspect is -oof! Contained. We have him.” He exhales deeply and smiles to himself.

“They’ve got him, Ma’am. You’re safe.”

~

A gunshot.

Tires squealing against concrete.

Blood splattered everywhere.

A car flipping and rolling rolling rolling.

A dead man in the front seat.

A child, terrified in the back.

Screams erupt, more shots are fired.

He’s dead already.

There’s blood all over the child’s face. In her hair.

She’s crying. Screaming and terrified.

~

You wake up with a startled gasp, eyes darting around your room. A few moments pass before you remember that you’re safe.

As the anniversary of his death approaches, the nightmares are growing increasingly realistic and frequent.

You sigh heavily and climb out of bed, navigating your way through the dark house and putting the kettle on.

You put your face in your hands as a tear slides down your cheek, trying to stay silent and not wake up your bodyguard.

“What are you doing up, ma’am?” You gasp at his voice and spin around, clutching your shirt and panting. “I-I...” you trail off and look away from his intense gaze.

“You’re safe here. I promise you that.” You shake your head. “It’s not that. I... ugh.” You find yourself embarrassed to admit this. “I sometimes have nightmares. Nothing major. I make myself tea and do some work or something.”

He watches you for a few moments before speaking. “I... understand the feeling.” You look back up at him, shock clear as day on your face.

“I was stationed overseas during my time with the military,” is the only explanation he gives.

You nod and look back at the kettle.

“Would-would you like some tea?” The world freezes as soon as the words roll off your tongue.

The clock ticks once, twice, three times before- “I’d love some. Thank you, ma’am.”

~*~

TAGS:

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MARVEL: @fallenangelfangirl @look-to-the-stars-and-wish @maladaptive-ninja-returns @cliffordasparagus @april-14-blog @potteritis @momc95 @shakzer00 @inkedaztec @cal-ifornication @heartislubbingdubbing @my-suga-kookies

BUCKY: @chuuulip @nerd-without-a-cause @natashasnight @dragonrosegardens @saharzek @fandom-princess-forevermore

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[mostlysignssomeportents]

#1yrago Oh for fuck's sake, not this fucking bullshit again (cryptography edition)

America, Canada, New Zealand, the UK and Australia are in a surveillance alliance called The Five Eyes, through which they share much of their illegally harvested surveillance data.

In a recently released Statement of Principles on Access to Evidence and Encryption, the Five Eyes powers have demanded, again, that strong cryptography be abolished and replaced with defective cryptography so that they can spy on bad guys.

They defend this by saying "Privacy is not absolute."

But of course, working crypto isn't just how we stay private from governments (though god knows all five of the Five Eyes have, in very recent times, proven themselves to be catastrophically unsuited to collect, analyze and act on all of our private and most intimate conversations). It's how we make sure that no one can break into the data from our voting machines, or push lethal fake firmware updates to our pacemakers, or steal all the money from all of the banks, or steal all of the kompromat on all 22,000,000 US military and government employees and contractors who've sought security clearance.

Also, this is bullshit.

Because it won't work.

Here's the text of my go-to post about why this is so fucking stupid. I just can't be bothered anymore. Jesus fucking christ. Seriously? Are we still fucking talking about this? Seriously? Come on, SERIOUSLY?

It’s impossible to overstate how bonkers the idea of sabotaging cryptography is to people who understand information security. If you want to secure your sensitive data either at rest – on your hard drive, in the cloud, on that phone you left on the train last week and never saw again – or on the wire, when you’re sending it to your doctor or your bank or to your work colleagues, you have to use good cryptography. Use deliberately compromised cryptography, that has a back door that only the “good guys” are supposed to have the keys to, and you have effectively no security. You might as well skywrite it as encrypt it with pre-broken, sabotaged encryption.

There are two reasons why this is so. First, there is the question of whether encryption can be made secure while still maintaining a “master key” for the authorities’ use. As lawyer/computer scientist Jonathan Mayer explained, adding the complexity of master keys to our technology will “introduce unquantifiable security risks”. It’s hard enough getting the security systems that protect our homes, finances, health and privacy to be airtight – making them airtight except when the authorities don’t want them to be is impossible.

What these leaders thinks they're saying is, "We will command all the software creators we can reach to introduce back-doors into their tools for us." There are enormous problems with this: there's no back door that only lets good guys go through it. If your Whatsapp or Google Hangouts has a deliberately introduced flaw in it, then foreign spies, criminals, crooked police (like those who fed sensitive information to the tabloids who were implicated in the hacking scandal -- and like the high-level police who secretly worked for organised crime for years), and criminals will eventually discover this vulnerability. They -- and not just the security services -- will be able to use it to intercept all of our communications. That includes things like the pictures of your kids in your bath that you send to your parents to the trade secrets you send to your co-workers.

But this is just for starters. These officials don't understand technology very well, so they doesn't actually know what they're asking for.

For this proposal to work, they will need to stop Britons, Canadians, Americans, Kiwis and Australians from installing software that comes from software creators who are out of their jurisdiction. The very best in secure communications are already free/open source projects, maintained by thousands of independent programmers around the world. They are widely available, and thanks to things like cryptographic signing, it is possible to download these packages from any server in the world (not just big ones like Github) and verify, with a very high degree of confidence, that the software you've downloaded hasn't been tampered with.

Australia is not alone here. The regime they proposes is already in place in countries like Syria, Russia, and Iran (for the record, none of these countries have had much luck with it). There are two means by which authoritarian governments have attempted to restrict the use of secure technology: by network filtering and by technology mandates.

Australian governments have already shown that they believes they can order the nation's ISPs to block access to certain websites (again, for the record, this hasn't worked very well). The next step is to order Chinese-style filtering using deep packet inspection, to try and distinguish traffic and block forbidden programs. This is a formidable technical challenge. Intrinsic to core Internet protocols like IPv4/6, TCP and UDP is the potential to "tunnel" one protocol inside another. This makes the project of figuring out whether a given packet is on the white-list or the black-list transcendentally hard, especially if you want to minimise the number of "good" sessions you accidentally blackhole.

More ambitious is a mandate over which code operating systems in the 5 Eyes nations are allowed to execute. This is very hard. We do have, in Apple's Ios platform and various games consoles, a regime where a single company uses countermeasures to ensure that only software it has blessed can run on the devices it sells to us. These companies could, indeed, be compelled (by an act of Parliament) to block secure software. Even there, you'd have to contend with the fact that other states are unlikely to follow suit, and that means that anyone who bought her Iphone in Paris or Mexico could come to the 5 Eyes countries with all their secure software intact and send messages "we cannot read."

But there is the problem of more open platforms, like GNU/Linux variants, BSD and other unixes, Mac OS X, and all the non-mobile versions of Windows. All of these operating systems are already designed to allow users to execute any code they want to run. The commercial operators -- Apple and Microsoft -- might conceivably be compelled by Parliament to change their operating systems to block secure software in the future, but that doesn't do anything to stop people from using all the PCs now in existence to run code that the PM wants to ban.

More difficult is the world of free/open operating systems like GNU/Linux and BSD. These operating systems are the gold standard for servers, and widely used on desktop computers (especially by the engineers and administrators who run the nation's IT). There is no legal or technical mechanism by which code that is designed to be modified by its users can co-exist with a rule that says that code must treat its users as adversaries and seek to prevent them from running prohibited code.

This, then, is what the Five Eyes are proposing:

* All 5 Eyes citizens' communications must be easy for criminals, voyeurs and foreign spies to intercept

* Any firms within reach of a 5 Eyes government must be banned from producing secure software

* All major code repositories, such as Github and Sourceforge, must be blocked in the 5 Eyes

* Search engines must not answer queries about web-pages that carry secure software

* Virtually all academic security work in the 5 Eyes must cease -- security research must only take place in proprietary research environments where there is no onus to publish one's findings, such as industry R&D and the security services

* All packets in and out of 5 Eyes countries, and within those countries, must be subject to Chinese-style deep-packet inspection and any packets that appear to originate from secure software must be dropped

* Existing walled gardens (like Ios and games consoles) must be ordered to ban their users from installing secure software

* Anyone visiting a 5 Eyes country from abroad must have their smartphones held at the border until they leave

* Proprietary operating system vendors (Microsoft and Apple) must be ordered to redesign their operating systems as walled gardens that only allow users to run software from an app store, which will not sell or give secure software to Britons

* Free/open source operating systems -- that power the energy, banking, ecommerce, and infrastructure sectors -- must be banned outright

The Five Eyes officials will say that they doesn't want to do any of this. They'll say that they can implement weaker versions of it -- say, only blocking some "notorious" sites that carry secure software. But anything less than the programme above will have no material effect on the ability of criminals to carry on perfectly secret conversations that "we cannot read". If any commodity PC or jailbroken phone can run any of the world's most popular communications applications, then "bad guys" will just use them. Jailbreaking an OS isn't hard. Downloading an app isn't hard. Stopping people from running code they want to run is -- and what's more, it puts the every 5 Eyes nation -- individuals and industry -- in terrible jeopardy.

That’s a technical argument, and it’s a good one, but you don’t have to be a cryptographer to understand the second problem with back doors: the security services are really bad at overseeing their own behaviour.

Once these same people have a back door that gives them access to everything that encryption protects, from the digital locks on your home or office to the information needed to clean out your bank account or read all your email, there will be lots more people who’ll want to subvert the vast cohort that is authorised to use the back door, and the incentives for betraying our trust will be much more lavish than anything a tabloid reporter could afford.

If you want a preview of what a back door looks like, just look at the US Transportation Security Administration’s “master keys” for the locks on our luggage. Since 2003, the TSA has required all locked baggage travelling within, or transiting through, the USA to be equipped with Travelsentry locks, which have been designed to allow anyone with a widely held master key to open them.

What happened after Travelsentry went into effect? Stuff started going missing from bags. Lots and lots of stuff. A CNN investigation into thefts from bags checked in US airports found thousands of incidents of theft committed by TSA workers and baggage handlers. And though “aggressive investigation work” has cut back on theft at some airports, insider thieves are still operating with impunity throughout the country, even managing to smuggle stolen goods off the airfield in airports where all employees are searched on their way in and out of their work areas.

The US system is rigged to create a halo of buck-passing unaccountability. When my family picked up our bags from our Easter holiday in the US, we discovered that the TSA had smashed the locks off my nearly new, unlocked, Travelsentry-approved bag, taping it shut after confirming it had nothing dangerous in it, and leaving it “completely destroyed” in the words of the official BA damage report. British Airways has sensibly declared the damage to be not their problem, as they had nothing to do with destroying the bag. The TSA directed me to a form that generated an illiterate reply from a government subcontractor, sent from a do-not-reply email address, advising that “TSA is not liable for any damage to locks or bags that are required to be opened by force for security purposes” (the same note had an appendix warning me that I should treat this communication as confidential). I’ve yet to have any other communications from the TSA.

Making it possible for the state to open your locks in secret means that anyone who works for the state, or anyone who can bribe or coerce anyone who works for the state, can have the run of your life. Cryptographic locks don’t just protect our mundane communications: cryptography is the reason why thieves can’t impersonate your fob to your car’s keyless ignition system; it’s the reason you can bank online; and it’s the basis for all trust and security in the 21st century.

In her Dimbleby lecture, Martha Lane Fox recalled Aaron Swartz’s words: “It’s not OK not to understand the internet anymore.” That goes double for cryptography: any politician caught spouting off about back doors is unfit for office anywhere but Hogwarts, which is also the only educational institution whose computer science department believes in “golden keys” that only let the right sort of people break your encryption.

https://boingboing.net/2018/09/04/illegal-math.html

[racingtoaredlight]

Marshall Amps

This is Slayer’s backdrop for some recent tour of theirs.

If you’ve followed rock music at all, the “wall of Marshalls” is so iconic, it’s hard to separate the subject of the imagery from the backdrop of Marshall speakers.  Jimmy Page, Slash, Zakk Wylde, Eric Clapton...to name a few...but the man who made Marshalls the “greatest amps of all time” is none other than you know who...

So what is it with Marshalls?  Why did they become the “greatest amps of all time” yet seemingly don’t have a place in today’s guitar world?

***

What defines Marshall amps?

They have “Marshall” written on them.

Kidding aside, you will never hear about Marshall amps being called “versatile.”  “Clean” is something they do out of necessity, not design.  They are stupidly heavy.  They are a pain in the ass to maintain.  They only sound good at volumes that would peel the enamel off your teeth...and that’s just the 50w models, let alone the big boys.

Marshall amps really do one thing well...overdrive.  If you’re in a band that plays loud, plays dirty and plays aggressive, then Marshalls are likely right in your wheelhouse.  Bonus points if someone else is carrying your gear.

Any level of dirt...from bluesy hair on the note to full out metal grind...a Marshall is right at home.  When you overdrive the tubes in a Marshall and they start to produce those beautiful overtones and harmonics, it’s truly a sound of beauty that prickles the hair on the back of your neck.

***

Historical Context Part 1

To define Marshall amps, we need to start with their history.

Remember how when I used to actually write, I’d talk about putting things in historical context?  Lets go back to the early 60′s.  There is ONE amp company doing business on both sides of the Atlantic, Fender.  And, despite being primitive and archaic, those early Tweed Fender amps are still today some of the best sounding amps money can buy, which is even more impressive considering that a 10 year old who can use a soldering iron could build one.

But in America, it’s easy to source parts for an American company’s amp like Fender.  It’s right there in the country, stupid.  But for a company...shit, that’s not even accurate given they weren’t a company yet...for a Brit like Jim Marshall, you had to get creative.

Marshalls, at their very, foundational core, are almost a direct plagiarism of the Fender Bassman amp.  I mean, it’s exactly the same amplifier except for one key difference...the tubes.  The Atlantic Ocean thing mentioned earlier is a big deal...the 6v6 and 6L6 power tubes that Leo Fender used, nothing more than run of the mill military-spec electrical tubes, weren’t available.  Tubes might not be the lifeblood of an amp (the circuit is), but different tubes have a hugely variable presence in practical settings.

Given that most tube amps are powered by tubes that came from either the US, UK or Russian military industrial complexes...and there not being the internet or a secondary market for any of this shit...Marshall used, first, KT66 Russian tubes, and later British EL34 (big bottles) and EL84 (little bottles), depending on use.

As Marshall’s blew up (and it happened quickly), and musicians started playing bigger and bigger halls, Marshall took that Bassman ripoff and housed it in larger cabinets allowing him to add more tubes, and therefore, more power.  It was the perfect storm...

***

Historical Context Part II...the important stuff

So I linked to a bunch of pics above...famous dudes standing in front of walls of Marshalls.  The one I really want to hit on is the Eric Clapton one...

I just mentioned this a couple paragraphs above, but it bears repeating...there was no secondary market for things like tubes, caps, speakers, etc.  That pic of Clapton?  In each of those cabinets housing four speakers, maybe one was fully operational with half of another adding a bunch of fizz.  During Cream’s final show at Royal Albert Hall, he had only one speaker installed in the entire cabinet...the rest were just empty.

Now, that’s not to say there wasn’t any sonic benefit from having cabinets project sound waves with four speakers.  Rather, if one went down, at least you could still play.

Which leads us to the important stuff...

Primitive PA systems were not only garbage to begin with, but they were typically operated by burnouts who didn’t have the first clue of how to properly EQ a room.  This was true as late as the mid 80′s.  As shitty as those PA systems were though, guess what?  That’s still how Cream’s sound got shot through Royal Albert Hall.

Given the choice though, guitarists would rather have a slew of speakers doing the work rather than mic’ing up smaller amps.  Even with this option though, there’s a long history of...behind those walls of Marshall speaker cabs...there being a single half stack with just one speaker being mic’d.

Here’s a dirty little secret...Eddie Van Halen has not just endorsed multiple amps from multiple companies, but been heavily involved in the design of a lot of those as well.  BUT, when you hear him in the studio or live, you’re not hearing any of those amps...you’re hearing this.

Despite all the noise and propaganda regarding Van Halen’s wizardry with guitar and amp parts, the sound he’s most famous for and has relied on his entire career is produced by a relatively stock Marshall 1959SLP, known as the Super Lead.  The “Brown Tone” he’s famous for isn’t due to anything special in the amp itself, rather using something called the Variax to run the 100w amp at 90w, thereby making it warmer and more efficient (Marshall’s imported to the US still made to run at 110 volts despite most American outlets being 120 volts...the Variax reduced the electrical load to the amp, while also being an accidental signal buffer, allowing him to use time-based effects like flangers and delays, where running them into the front of a Marshall would cancel out those signals).

Jesus Christ that was a long aside...there was a point here though.

***

What was that point?

When PA systems and quality mic’s and sound guys became the norm, the necessity for stacks of Marshalls really started to go to shit.  Even before the internet boom, the jokes about wannabes hauling Marshall half stacks to tiny bars with no audience were already essentially canon.

I said this above...unless you are a touring artist in a hard rock band with logistical support and no front of house...Marshalls are completely impractical.  We’re not even going to touch on declines in quality (new Marshalls built on PCB have more in common with your phone than a 1987x, even if you buy a “reissue” of a 1987x), questionable marketing and oversaturating their own market...the fact of the matter is extremely simple.  Big iron is obsolete, no matter who makes it.

Marshall themselves know this, and released the “studio” line...which might as well be called the “shit we better make smaller stuff because our sales are getting FUCKED” line.  If you’ve ever had to pack a car full of gear yourself, it takes one gig before you’re looking for smaller, lighter amps.  Those 100w Marshalls?  They sound AMAZING cranked.

But unless you play them cranked, they sound like shit.  Think about it like driving a Ferrari at 25mph all the time...

For regular working musicians like myself, a great sounding tube combo can be found under 50 lbs.  Or I could ditch all that and go with a modeler, go straight into the PA and never need an amp again (PREDICTION...you will not see amplifiers on stage outside of Nashville and niche acts in 10 years).  That’s for a working musician.

For a touring musician, you can save tens of thousands of dollars per year by not having to hire logistical staff.  You might have scoffed at my prediction above...but these days, the majority of guitar sounds you hear are made digitally by a session guitarist sitting either at home or in the control room of a studio.  That 1987x is a digital patch rather than two trips to the car and ringing ears.

Point being...amps are already obsolete.  And if your amp weighs more than 50 lbs. and has more power than say 40w, it’s remarkably obsolete, no matter how cool it is.

***

Competition

I don’t have to tell you that Marshalls’ legacy was formed in the harder forms of rock.  Take one look at those monsters and you can tell they roar.  “Roar” is an interesting concept though...

Marshalls were made before hard rock really existed.  Guitarists almost ubiquitously came from a “clean” learning point, and even what we consider small amounts of dirt like this (and during the instrumental part of Ramblin’ Man) back then were FULL-THROATED.

Personally, that’s my ideal of the Marshall sound.  That Tweedy breakup that puts a shaggy head of hair on each note.  But to just about 90% of the music-enjoying public, this is the sound that immediately comes to mind when you think of Marshalls.

Definitely more dirty than Duane Allman’s version no doubt, but if you really listen to the guitar, the edge is more due to phrasing and Slash’s ballsy attitude than the guitar tone itself.  It’s still something I’d describe as more crunchy than full on distorted.

Which brings us to the clones.  Now, what better product to copy than a style that’s been obsolete for like two decades now!

We talked about Van Halen’s supposedly modded (but really quite stock) Marshall above...well, here comes one of his amp tech buddies Michael Soldano bringing a hot-rodded Marshall to the masses.  Then Bogner follows right behind.

Slash’s tone might not be that distorted, but plenty of metal guys absolutely were, and Marshall JCM’s were their weapon of choice.  But the time the calendar turned to 1990 though, Mesa Boogie’s rectifiers were already kings of the metal scene.  Almost as much as the Telecaster dominates country music, the Mesa Boogie Rectifiers own metal.

What was the common denominator in the competition?  MORE, sure.  More dirt, more quality, blah blah blah.  The biggest reason was Marshall, the company.  Unlike Fender, Marshall never got bought by bigger companies.  While that might keep them more “genuine” you have to realize that this guy was making amps in a tiny drum shop still when he was making stuff for Hendrix and Pete Townshend.

***

While Fender’s soul got twisted in a series of corporate takeovers, what it also eventually received was outside guidance from people with business AND music knowledge.  Fender was always forward thinking, from the day Leo Fender started the company.  Jim Marshall didn’t have that same type of vision.  The idea of a Fender amp being built on PCB is something Leo Fender would have embraced.  But to Marshall, it’s killing the amp’s soul.  Fenders never were BIG IRON...i.e. huge transformers fed by big bottle tubes...they never got into the size game.

To begin with, Marshalls were a stolen design.  That might sound harsh, but it’s not being unfair either.  They were never known for quality, rather known for quirks and unreliability.  They weren’t even that unique of a sound...you can get a very similar sound from a Fender Tweed cranked...you just cant take a Tweed to a huge hall and project the sound.

We can do that today.  Easily.  Like an $80 mic and a mic cable easy.  And now you have a true, pretty much genuine Marshall roar in a 30 lb. package.

Back in the day you couldn’t demand flawless point-to-point wiring, proper voltage and ohm specs, and wide-sweeping EQ bands.  Soldano and Mesa Boogie offered these as stock parts of their offerings at the same price points.  If you were a lead guy, Soldano was your choice...if you were a metal guy, it was Mesa...and in the two niches of the guitar world Marshall absolutely dominated, they were now second class citizens.

Or maybe even worse...new poor.

***

“Marshall” is a descriptor these days.  It’s describing the sound of a tube amp with a good-sized transformer being fed by British tubes, typically EL34′s.

If you want a “Marshall,” Marshall is probably the fourth or fifth company I’d recommend.  There’s a lot of debate about this, but I do not believe amps built on PCB are worth more than $1k...shit, that’s generous because I would not personally buy an amplifier using PCB.

This is the power amp section for a new Marshall JCM.

For all you IT guys out there, you probably know that PCB ain’t exactly the most receptive thing to changes in temperature.  Hey!  I got a great idea!  Lets put power and preamp tubes, that heat the fuck up, straight on some cheap ass PCB with janky copper wiring and automated solders!

Literally the only people who will tell you PCB is fine are people who build amps for a living.  Now, I don’t know about you, but I don’t give a shit about making your job easier when you’re still charging me full price and plus some.  The only people saying that there’s no reason to do a point-to-point amp are those who are too lazy to, because there’s a big boutique market for this very thing.

Lets do a real apples to apples comparison here...

The top pic is a restored 1972 Marshall 1987x.  You can buy these used for under $2k...but let’s use $2k...plus $200 restoration (just the guts, who cares about how an amp looks).  We’re at $2,200.  And this electric shit is so simple a vacuum repair shop could do it.

The bottom pic is a brand spakin’ new Marshall 1987x reissue, modeled after...you guessed it...the 1972 Marshall 1987x.  That’s some clean wiring on that particle board!  But...wait...why am I paying MORE for a less desirable model, that took exponentially less work on Marshall’s end?  Why would I subsidize their profit margins for an inferior product with less resale value?

Furthermore...the 1987x is a one-channel, stupid simple amp.  Why do you need PCB to begin with?  I get it for a Soldano or Rectifier that’s multi-channel, with huge sweeping EQ sections, reverb, etc...but this is a plug-n-play.

Marshall...the company...has been doing that to their customer base for decades.  Back in the day, you knew what you were getting...a thunderous machine that likely would fail at some point, necessitating multiple amp purchases.  Literally the instant better, higher quality alternatives hit the market, it ripped into Marshall’s market share.

Today, if I were recommending a Marshall, the first place I’d recommend is George Metropoluos.  Second would be Friedman.  I’m currently deeply in love with a Friedman amp that’s a single-channel, point-to-point 40w amp that’s essentially a Tweed Bassman with EL84′s and a switchable gain stage...adorably named the Dirty Shirley.

***

Conclusion

Despite all that, I have a romantic love of Marshalls that overrides anything to do with quality or practicality.  It’s kind of like my love for the Gibson Les Paul grotesquely compounded...

You might think that I have a negative opinion of Marshalls based on everything I’ve just written.  Not true.  All of that stuff, it’s nothing in comparison to just how fucking incredible these things sound in person.  Again, neither of these instruments are in my wheelhouse, but if you asked me what the platonic ideal sound an electric guitar makes, it’d be a Les Paul through a cranked Marshall 1987x.

And even if you’re not into this kinda shit, trust me you’ve heard more than your fair share of Marshalls in the past.  They’re that great.  So great, it doesn’t matter how shitty they may or may not be.

PS...I wrote this in 3 different sessions, didn’t edit or re-read, and just posted away because something is better than nothing.

[gratiasancti]

100 PERSONAL QUESTIONS

because @ineffablequestion​ decided to really put my patience to the test today . not that i mind , ily .

1. What is your middle name ?

maria 

2. How old are you ?

23 as of right now !

3. When is your birthday?

oct. 19th

4. What is your zodiac sign?

libra waddup

5. What is your favorite color?

i don’t really have one ? muted colours probably

6. What’s your lucky number?

again, can’t say i have one but maybe 29

7. Do you have any pets?

a dod and a horse

8. Where are you from?

finland / uk

9. How tall are you?

174 cm

10. What shoe size are you?

eu 39-40

11. How many pairs of shoes do you own?

like seven, if you don’t count my collection of riding shoes and boots. oxfords, brogues, wellies, trainers, and the rest are probably heels. as for riding boots, a lot.

12. What was your last dream about?

that i was late from work and got thrown in a tar pit because of it. and then i sold my old history teacher 500€ worth of alcohol and lottery tickets.

13. What talents do you have?

none?? unlimited sarcasm, idk

14. Are you psychic in any way?

i’m not sure if i believe in this stuff

15. Favorite song?

honestly, anything from hippo campus or glass animals.

16. Favorite movie?

the grand budapest hotel

17. Who would be your ideal partner?

someone who counteracts some of my anxiety and excitedness with a calm and, when needed, firm character but is still funny and can be themselves. preferably someone who i feel is my intellectual equal, and we can share everything with each other. maybe a bit older than myself, but not by much. other than that, i really don’t care.

18. Do you want children?

currently, i can’t see myself ever having kids. just doesn’t seem like my thing. especially babies. maybe adopting or fostering could be an option, but only if i was sure i could give the child a good home.

19. Do you want a church wedding?

i don’t think i want to get married

20. Are you religious?

not particularly

21. Have you ever been to the hospital?

maaaaaaany times. multiple riding accidents, broken bones, a car crash. then just being an idiot in general. and chronic back problems.

22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law?

apart from once forgetting to pay for the underground and getting an 80€ fine, no.

23. Have you ever met any celebrities?

i’ve met and had dinner with two different finnish presidents and some other ‘upper class’ people but other than that, no. 

24. Baths or showers?

one of those rain shower things

25. What color socks are you wearing?

i have no socks !!!

26. Have you ever been famous?

uhhhh not in the literal sense of the word but i’ve been infamous at school when i was like 15. made a meme of one of our teachers that went low key viral in our city.

27. Would you like to be a big celebrity?

definitely not in the hollywood sense of things. 

28. What type of music do you like?

a lot of things. anything, really, depending on the time of day and if i’m feeling particularly emo.

29. Have you ever been skinny dipping?

that’s like the only type of swimming finnish people partake in. naked in the sauna, naked in the lake/ocean. so yes, multiple times a year jhdsnhb

30. How many pillows do you sleep with?

currently like five

31. What position do you usually sleep in?

either on my back or on my stomach. depends on what place hurts that day lmao.

32. How big is your house?

closer to 400 m^2 . i still live with my parents but will move into my own flat in six months, once it’s ready. that’s going to be appx 70 m^2.

33. What do you typically have for breakfast?

i know its a bad habit but i often dont have breakfast. if i do it's usually fruit and yoghurt or some toast.

34. Have you ever fired a gun?

yes

35. Have you ever tried archery?

yes. fun fact; my cousin has won the european championchip ( in some form of archery idk ) like twice , i think. 

36. Favorite clean word?

defenestrate

37. Favorite swear word?

fuck. i use it Too Much™

38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep?

can’t remember the exact amount of hours but we were sailing and our shifts got messed up to the point where i had either not slept at all or slept so little in like four days i was genuinely hallucinating. almost jumped into the sea because i thought i dropped my life vest,,, which i was wearing.

39. Do you have any scars?

a few. dumbest one probably when i rode in my shorts but used a saddle and rubbed the skin off of my calf. also from hay work, those little dots that look almost like moles.

40. Have you ever had a secret admirer?

not that i know of

41. Are you a good liar?

yes, unfortunately. it’s a bad habit in the sense that i tell a lot of white lies when i could genuinely tell the truth with no consequence. like, it would be the one and the same.

42. Are you a good judge of character?

also yes. i’ve seen some shit. also i have surprisingly good people skills.

43. Can you do any other accents other than your own?

i can speak english in my normal accent which is kind of queen’s english (?) upper class idk, then in world’s english ( so basically no accent / neutral ) and then in finnish (rally) english .  i can also speak swedish with a rikssvenska (standard swedish ???) accent and then finlandssvenska which is finnish swedish (and an actual thing lmao). also i can butcher a norwegian or danish accent in swedish if i really try. my finnish is very neutral, but it does vary a bit depending on what city i’m in.

oh, and also a shitty southern american accent. 

44. Do you have a strong accent?

if i let it shine through, yes, but i tend toward world english because anything else scares finns. but when i speak finnish (which is most of the time) i don’t really have an accent. maybe you can hear that i’m not 100% finnish but that’s about it.

45. What is your favorite accent?

i don’t really have one ! all accents are really fascinating.

46. What is your personality type?

entj-a

47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing?

i have a few expensive dresses, and then of course my riding clothes which cost ridiculous amounts of money because fuck everyone who likes horses, i guess. like excuse me but why is it normalised that you pay over 1000€ for a helmet??? anything less and you’re a peasant.

48. Can you curl your tongue?

mmmmyeah. 

49. Are you an innie or an outie?

innie!

50. Left or right handed?

pretty much ambidextrous, though i prefer to write with my left but do everything else mostly with my right. my handwriting doesn’t differ too much from left to write.

51. Are you scared of spiders?

yes. ew. and we’re lucky to only have tiny ones in finland !

52. Favorite food?

ummmmm. currently carelian pie maybe?? idk such a good snack.

53. Favorite foreign food?

squints??? sushi????

54. Are you a clean or messy person?

depends. often too lazy to clean but incredibly stressed and uncomfortable when its messy. meticulous about all the wrong things.

55. Most used phrase?

either some form of keysmash or “FUCK”. also in finnish either “voi jumalauta” or “voi saatana” which both basically translate to “jesus fucking christ”.

56. Most used word?

also fuck. this really must say something about me smdh.

57. How long does it take for you to get ready?

really depends. sometimes 10 minutes, sometimes two hours. on a normal day w/ shower and moderate make up, 15-25 minutes.

58. Do you have much of an ego?

depends really. i hope i don’t!

59. Do you suck or bite lollipops?

whomst the FUCK bites lollipops ?!?!?!

60. Do you talk to yourself?

i’ve only recently started. it’s terrifying.

61. Do you sing to yourself?

when driving if i’m listening to music, yeah

62. Are you a good singer?

honestly, no clue. i don’t really sing in front of people so i haven’t gotten opinions.

63. Biggest Fear?

failure.

64. Are you a gossip?

not about my friends, ever. but i will definitely listen to any tea you want to spill.

65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen?

idk does kingsman count as dramatic?? the first one was hilarious.

66. Do you like long or short hair?

both have their perks!

67. Can you name all 50 states of America?

LMAO i can name like 3 if i really try.

68. Favorite school subject?

history, english lang & lit, economics.

69. Extrovert or Introvert?

extrovert but i get tired easily

70. Have you ever been scuba diving?

yes ! we go to the maldives once in a while, because finland doesn’t offer much in terms of diving sites.

71. What makes you nervous?

not a lot of things? i guess some responsibilities. things left for me to do even if someone else was supposed to do them.

72. Are you scared of the dark?

a dark room ? no. a dark forest at midnight ? hell yess. finnish winter darkness is terrifying simply because its so depressing. seasonal depression is real yall.

73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes?

depends. if it’s a trivial mistake and they haven’t asked to be corrected, no. if it makes me or someone else feel bad or just makes any situation worse, then yes. but never unkindly.

74. Are you ticklish?

YES. ugh

75. Have you ever started a rumor?

no. i can’t recall doing so, at least. but i have participated in spreading them.

76. Have you ever been in a position of authority?

yes. at work a couple of times simply out of necessity and also when i took part in MEP. was committee president twice and president of the general assembly once. though idk if that counts since i was like 17 and its all p much play pretend.

oh! and also when i captain our boat. but again, idk if that counts.

77. Have you ever drank underage?

yeah, ever since i was like 16 :/

78. Have you ever done drugs?

no, and never will. not my thing !!

79. Who was your first real crush?

probably a boy from class. i can’t remember, really. i’ve never been too  ‘romantically inclined’ i  suppose.

80. How many piercings do you have?

just my ears, once.

81. Can you roll your Rs?

almost every r in the finnish language is technically rolled so yeah. i feel bad for those finnish people who cant !! makes everything so hard.

82. How fast can you type?

according to this thing 75 words per minute on my first try, so idk how accurate that is.

83. How fast can you run?

not fast. i  hate running, and am very out of practice. 

84. What color is your hair?

idk ? like, light brown ?

85. What color are your eyes?

again, idk. blue/green/grey

86. What are you allergic to?

dogs, cats, birch, and almost anything that flowers in the spring jshbdsjh

87. Do you keep a journal?

not a journal per se but i have a ‘little black book’ which i keep rather meticulously about my thoughts on the day, important things i need to remember, my expenses etc. a habit inherited from my dad. i’ve gone through like six of these in the past few years.

88. What do your parents do?

my mum is a mayor and my dad is a ceo

89. Do you like your age?

yeah !

90. What makes you angry?

injustice.

91. Do you like your own name?

yes !

92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they?

ksjdsjhb no. at this rate i’d end up naming a child crowley or sum shit

93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child?

i don’t want kids but if i did gender would be a non issue

94. What are you strengths?

lmao i have good people skills, work well under pressure, get along with everyone, am determined and ?? a good leader??? idk

95. What are your weaknesses?

i take on too much responsibility, i have anxiety and depression, i get frustrated at my own failures, i’m very self-critical and unforgiving. also no self-control when it comes to rp.

96. How did you get your name?

i think somewhere from my dad’s side, not entirely sure.

97. Were your ancestors royalty?

possibly? not sure. but fun fact! a great great grandmother (? or something of the sorts) from my mother’s side actually survived the sinking of the titanic.

98. Do you have any scars?

wasn’t this asked already?

99. Color of your bedspread?

this blue mandala like pattern idk

100. Color of your room?

white and a very mellow blue

[bredlederblog]

Capitol Hill 2021: A Response to a Commenter

Normally, I make a rule not to engage because I’ve had to deal with furious pro-police brutality and anti-immigration peeps before, and frankly I’m too old and tired to try to debate all the time. 

But I saw that someone had posted a very long response (and one other prior person) to my Capital Hill post and I need to make a few things clear: 

No, what happened to Ashli Babbit was/is inexcusable. There is literally no justification for her death--and there are too many various eye-witnesses for any of us to pretend that what the Capitol police and security had done was justifiable. 

We have one Thomas Barani confirming that she was shot by a plains-clothed police officer (so Ashli couldn’t have known if the cop was...a cop. Because he wasn’t wearing his uniform). 

Police also confirmed that there were no warning shots before Babbit was killed. 

““They shot her and then they turned around and screamed ‘Do you want to be next?'” one of the alleged eyewitnesses says on the tape. “That’s when the rest of the Capitol Police came storming in and pushed us all out.”“When she got hit, she was gushing blood out of her mouth,” another eyewitness added.“One shot and they got her,” the first man then stated.“ 

I have no clue why the commenter believed Babbit received prior warnings (and warning shots? Which granted, the four video recordings only shows during and after the incident--but where the fuck are the warning shots if none of the eyewitnesses and the police admitted it)?

I find it amazing that said commenter is claiming that I’m ‘blowing shit out of proportion’ while claiming that a woman had ‘warning shots’ which were never reported or in all four videos of the incident.

(also the commenter went on a long-as-hell post ranting about Biden, the news, and gun laws. Despite that my post was about police brutality and how clearly the people were misled and used by a politician who told people to march to Capitol Hill, because “something is wrong here, something is really wrong, can't have happened and we fight, we fight like hell, and if you don't fight like hell you're not going to have a country anymore.” 

This man claimed for MONTHS that the election was stolen (and I say for a fact that he did nothing to prevent it from happening. Remember that the 2016 primaries drew widespread criticism because 868 voting offices were removed, prompting calls for voter suppression investigation from both Republican and Democratic parties. Trump’s administration (after Mr. President told American citizens not to use mail-in votes, which my own father did anyway)  then went on to remove 1,688 on-site voting locations for the 2020 elections. 

So. Let’s pretend that I’m a politician who wants to limit any potential fraud. 

If I discover that mail-in ballots are a risk--you’d think that’d be the moment where you open up more voting locations, correct? So that none of the ballot-counters get slammed by thousands-more votes than last time, and to limit any possibility of ‘losing actual’ count (and hell, if a recount had to be made--it’s handier to separate them by town (like in the UK) than a whole county). I wouldn’t do something so stupid as to remove voting locations for places like Florence, Texas--forcing Americans to travel 10 miles to vote in person. 

So yeah--I’d appreciate it if you guys would: a) not insult a dead person, b) victim-blame a dead person, and c) claim that I was ‘blowing shit out of water’. 

And also--maybe the reason why we didn’t like Trump for saying shit like ‘grabbing pussy’ was because we historically didn’t like presidents for f*cking around like Bill Clinton. Who himself was impeached for using his position to pressure and have sex with his intern and several other women. In addition: If you have a problem with Trump being blamed because ‘he didn’t tell these people to riot” note that the US judiciary system has stated that you are still guilty of inciting people even if you didn’t specifically tell them to cause damage/murder. 

Because otherwise, why the fuck did American authorities convict Charles Manson when he himself said: 

“I have killed no one and I have ordered no one to be killed. I may have implied on several different occasions to several different people that I may have been Jesus Christ, but I haven't decided yet what I am or who I am. “

That's why Trump is being criticised. Because in America,  even if you didn’t say X,  but were there near a scene of crime  and didn’t do enough to stop the situation from escalating--then you’re at fault. 

Trump had so many chances to fix last week’s situation. He could’ve stepped out to personally speak out to the crowd, but he hid behind his Twitter. He wouldn’t even go on camera, neither did he send for the National Guard (which is controlled federally) to get Pence out of Capitol Hill. 

But he didn’t. He also had the opportunity to address what happened, to go over the seriousness about last week’s incident and the people who were killed (the ones that died going into Capitol Hill, and the ones who ‘defended’ it). But instead he focused heavily on how ‘people’ thought his speech was ‘totally appropriate’. He instead just distanced himself from those people. 

The News didn’t ‘make’ him look bad. He did all that to himself. 

[jim-reid]

Blood Simple

Alan Jackson / Vox 03.1992

Refusing beers, learning to drive and confessing to an admiration for Suzanne Vega - what's happened to Britain's favourite noise terrorists? In search of the missing link, Alan Jackson tracked down the Jesus And Mary Chain in their new private studio. Within a red-brick block of carbuncular design, a mile or so south of the Thamas, is a council-owned leisure centre, a McDonalds, and Jim and William Reid's brand spanking new studio. During the recording of next month's new, as-yet-untitled LP, the pair have been rendezvousing late each morning at one or other's north London home, ready to negotiate the traaffic en route to yet another 12-hour stint behind the controls. That they've been able to travel in William's own car, rather than any vehicle more fitting to one-time noise terrorists, seems to be a source of wonder to many who think they know the Jesus And Mary Chain. But, confirms Jim, cheerfully dispensing cans of lager on a bleak midwinter's afternoon, William really has been involved in a tearing-the-L-plates-up-type scenario. Futhermore, he's a very good, very safe driver. "When I passed, so many people said they couldn't imagine me behind a wheel," grumbles the BSM's woefully under-estimated success story. "I kind of understood what they meant, but I couldn't help feeling insulted. I mean, there are people I know who I can't imagine driving a car, but that's because they're pretty much semi-retarded." That gripe aside, it's a noticeably friendly, even funny Jim and William who submit to their first press inquisition in some two years. It's not a process they're used to enjoying too much - having cheery foreign reporters ask 'Which one's Jesus and which one's Mary?' understandably dulls the appetite - but the comforts of this recently acquired home-from-home ensure they remain in relaxed mood. "Being in a rented studio is like being in someone else's house, with strangers walking in and out the whole time," says Jim, peeling open another can which his brother, admirably self-disciplined motorist that he is, refuses. "We're quite shy people, and just like to be left alone to get on with our work." "Also, it's not as if we're furniture-makers or plumbers, people who just turn up at a certain place and do the job," adds William. "It's supposed to be creative and it's a ridiculous that, just because you book a studio for the 22nd of March, you're going to be feeling creative when that day rolls around. "You can find yourself with a week's studio time booked, but no ideas to work on. Now we can work when we want and for however long it takes. I know we're not the first people to think of it, but I'm surprised this way of working doesn't occur to more bands." In the time they've been away, the Mary Chain have seen the windsock of critical and peer-group opionion swing back in their favour. Almost passé back in 1990, they're now right back in vogue - thanks largely to the number of slavish admirers nestling within younger bands of the monosyllabic name and shoe-gazing variety. Not that the Reids are sufficiently mindful of any of this for it to put them under any pressure while recording the work in hand. "We were aware of that from the time of Psychocandy to the release of Darklands, I guess," shrugs Jim, pleased at the attention from younger disciples, but preferring not to single out any one for public comment. "Since then I don't really think the pressure's been there. "That period was, basically, our five minutes in the limelight, and it suits us fine to be out of it now. At the time the responsibility felt enormous. We read all this stuff in the papers about how it was impossible to follow Psychocandy, how we'd blow it if we tried, how we should just split up there and then." "It's kind of what The Stone Roses must be going through now," considers William. "If I was them, I wouldn't read any of the debate - just go away and record. But that's probably why Darklands ended up being so different. We realised that there was no way we could get better in that particular style, so instead of doing Psychocandy II we made a complete change." The Mary Chain's subsequent direction was also shaped by a rather touching disappointment that their reputation, post-Psychocandy, was as noise terrorists rather than songwriters. "No-one ever quoted a lyric from that album," complains William. "OK, maybe it's because you can't hear them all - but you can hear some. It kind of got on our nerves. We'd actually written them all on acoustic guitar. The noise came later." This admission leads the Reids on to a shock declaration of admiration for the Suzanne Vegas of this world - those seemingly frail but undeniably brave souls who face their audiences metaphorically naked. "It's a completely different kind of performing, and I've got so much more time for artists who do that than I have for all the Spandex-trousered heavy rock bands," says Jim, shaking his head in disbelief at the sheer folly involved. "One person on stage with just an acoustic guitar and a microphone - that's a really direct way of communicating with other people and one that I find really terrifying. "We did an acoustic thing with the Sugarcubes a couple of years ago, and something later with the Cocteaus, and I don't think I could handle it again. You can hear people talking out front, and there's always the thought that someone could just shout out 'You're shit' and everyone would hear. Our noise is definitely something to hide behind. "We once played a festival in Estonia before 150,000 people and that was just a breeze in comparison. Absolutely no nerves, 100 feet away from the front rows on a completely huge stage - there's a totally disconnected feeling to it, as if the audience's reaction has nothing to do with you. And if anyone does shout any abuse, you just swagger round ignoring it, thinking, 'A few more seconds pal, and we're going to blast you away with noise'." "This far down the line they've got used to the way we work," judges William. "They know that when it comes to making records with Brian Eno, it just isn't going to happen. We don't rule out the producer thing - we've always kept an open mind about it, and have met and worked with a few. But it's never come out right so far. As we see it, what you're basically getting is an extra band member for the duration of an album, and we've never met anyone who's understood what we're about sufficiently for that relationship to be possible. "It's shouldn't just be a question of saying: 'Okay, we want our record to sell 20 million - we'll get such-and-such.' Hiring a producer should be just like auditioning a guitarist. When we've met producers, no matter how big their reputation, we haven't gone in looking for favours. We treat it as: 'If you're good enough, you can get to produce our record.' It's funny how they don't seem to like that." Self-produced then, in time-honoured JAMC fashion, the new album's direction provokes good-natured fraternal bickering. "It's not really got anything to do with what we've done before - other than that it touches on the best of everything," pronounces Jim. "It's not really a reaction to or against anything." "I think I disagree totally with everything you've just said," counters William, without offering an alternative definition. Rock'n'roll, but without the clichés, is the eventual compromise. While the public waits to deliver its verdict, the Reids are limbering up for the inevitable round of international promo activities. And while we can rest assured we won't be seeing them with Phillip Schofield and Sarah Greene some Saturday morning, they worry that things become more difficult to control abroad. "This country's not so bad - they know who you are, and only ask you to do certain things," explains Jim. "But in Europe and America there are no musical categories, particularly when it comes to TV. So you go out to appear on some show and you find you're on next to Sonia, with no one having thought to say: 'You really ought not to be doing this, boys'. "So there you are, you've got an awful hangover, and you're wheeled onto the set of what you suddenly realise is some idiotic kiddie show, and before you can do anything about it someone's got a microphone in your face asking: 'What's your name?', 'What's your favourite colour?', 'What do you do in your spare time?'. And you end up going (adopts a tone of exquisite pathos), 'My name's Jim. My favourite colour's black. I like to fuck a lot...' "It's a difficult area. In-store signings are another thing. In the States you'll find all sorts of bands who wouldn't be seen dead doing them here sitting down with their magic markers. So if you object, you'll get the record company saying: 'Oh yeah? Well, REM and New Order did it, so what makes you think you're too good for it?'. In April the Reid brothers will embark on a live tour of Britain (UK appearances alone will involve the mega-supporting cast of Blur, My Bloody Valentine and Dinosaur Jr), mainland Europe and the United States. In-store signings are not on the agenda, but Jim points out that the inclusion of the lines "I want to die like Jesus Christ/I want to die like JFK' and 'I want to die in the USA" within the lyrics to 'Reverence', the new single, could ensure them a US profile far higher than any publicist would ever dare plan. "Never mind drinking Jack Daniels for breakfast and sleeping with a snake - that's dangerous," he says triumphantly. "We're inciting someone to shoot us on stage, and knowing our fucking luck it'll happen. Lee Harvey Oswald's cousin will show up in Dallas and we'll be killed. Meanwhile everyone will continue to call Slash 'dangerous'." If you really believed your end was nigh, boys, you'd rewrite the lyric. "No we wouldn't," protests an outraged Jim, artistic integrity slighted. "Yes we fuckin' would," sneers knight of the road William. "Sacrifice myself for rock'n'roll? Fuck off!"

[sinsiriuslyemo]

EPISODE 2

“Don’t forget to pick up Vanessa,” your mother said to you as you and the girls headed out to the car.

“Yeah, yeah.” You rolled your eyes and got in. “We gotta go pick up my fucking cousin,” you mumbled bitterly.

“Is she really that bad?” Roxie asked curiously.

“Yes,” you said flatly, pulling onto the road and driving off.

When you arrived at the hotel, you immediately growled before putting on a fake smile the moment your cousin came out. You got out of the car and squealed to hug her.

“Um, did I misunderstand?” Isla whispered to her sister inside the car.

“Apparently, there’s not only a crazy uncle, but a crazy cousin as well,” Roxie replied.

“Oh my god it's so good to see you!” You both smiled and hugged each other tight.

“Bueno, where are we going? Oye, Sloppy Joes is supposed to be the place to go, pero anywhere on Duval street,” Vanessa said, one of her large hoop earrings getting tangled in your hair. She expertly untangled the lock as she followed you back to the car. “Oye, I heard you got married. Why you didn’t invite me to the wedding?” she asked, playfully smacking your arm.

“Small wedding right after I popped out my daughter,” you said with a smile.

“Ah, you had a baby, that’s why. I thought you had gained some weight,” she replied nonchalantly. “Oye, I can not believe Rafelito is getting married,” she added as she got into the SUV. “The last girl he said he was gonna marry was una gringa que se llamara Amber. Pero he called Anthony like a month after he said that, y la puta se fue par carajo. Tu te majina?”

She looked over at Roxie, Isla and Amber, smiling at them and waving before she looked back at you.

“Yo sabía que el se iba a casar con una Americana,” she mumbled to you.

“He's marrying someone from the UK.” You pointed to Roxie, “This is the bride, her sister and this is Amber,” you pointed each person out.

“La misma chusma que se fue a Pakistan, no se que carajo?” Vanessa asked and you nodded. “Coño, and he invited her to the wedding?” she mumbled only loud enough for you to hear. “He’s always been too nice,” she added, smiling at Roxie and reaching out for a hug. “Welcome to the family. Oye, does she speak English or does she only talk in Ukrainian?” she asked, looking back at you.

“Amber's friends with Roxie and she's my best friend.” You tried hard not to roll your eyes.

Roxie hugged her. “The U.K. as in London,” she said with a warm smile. “Nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, coño, so young. Rafelito is a Cuban man after all,” she teased. “Bueno  where are going? Duval street, right?”

“We're actually going to have tea and then head to a movie,” you explained.

“I got to plan my big sister's bachelorette party,” Isla said with a smile from the back.

“Aye, que cute,” Vanessa said half-heartedly, looking back at Isla with a fake smile. “Bueno, okay. Vamos a tomar tea.”

You looked at Roxie and rolled your eyes, and she snickered silently.

Izzy smiled while Rafael picked the grapes he wanted for the wine.

“This sucks,” Eddie mumbled to Greyson.

“I think this is a really romantic idea.” Greyson smiled and wrapped his arms around Eddie's neck. “Something so thoughtful and well put together, Roxie's a lucky girl.”

“Coño, you dropping hints?” Eddie said with a smirk.

“Maybe,” Greyson replied.

“Oye, who knew there were so many different grapes?” Nevada mused, looking at two different ones that look identical to him. “Mira, what the fuck is difference? They’re both fucking green.”

Rafael looked over, pointing at the one on the left. “These are sweeter.”

“Are you gonna make one for Tia?” Eddie asked Nevada curiously. “I think she'd love that.” He moved to wrap his arms around Greyson, pressing noisy kisses to the boys neck.

“I guess, I mean we’re here, right?” Nevada replied. “What about you Izzy? You making one? If you do, I’ll split it with you.”

“I think I'll make one,” she nodded softly and grabbed Eddie by his hair, tugging him backwards. “I'm the only one who gets to be that gay in the family, Eddie.” The two playfully shoved each other.

“So, what are you thinking for the key notes and the flavor profile?” Greyson asked curiously, smiling at Rafael. He really was a friendly boy.

“What language are you speaking right now?” Nevada asked and Rafael rolled his eyes.

“Pay no attention to the beast in leather,” he said, turning back to the fruits in front of him. “I’m thinking some kind of Pinot Noir. Maybe some raspberries?”

Greyson smiled. “Eddie told me she runs a bakery, Raspberries are very popular in bakeries, right? She'll love that!” He leaned over and glanced at all of the grapes. “Eddie says you're the best lawyer in Manhattan,” he said casually as he smiled still. “Don't tell him I told you.”

“Well, that’s nice of him to say. I do what I can,” Rafael replied, smirking softly. “Are you studying law too?”

Greyson nodded. “Yes, I'm studying to work as a family law attorney.” He popped a grape into his mouth and turned to smile and wink at Eddie. “He looks up to you a lot, his grades slipped for a while but...now he's back and at the top of his class again.” He left out the part about him withholding sex. Greyson may have seemed like prey but he was a predator at heart, he had Eddie wrapped around his finger.

“That makes me happy to hear,” Rafael said. “I’m glad you guys are back together, you seem to bring out the best in him.”

“I love him, I wish loving him were easier but...I love him. With all my heart,” he said honestly then smiled at Rafael. “When did you know with your bride to be?”

Rafael thought for a moment; he almost said he’d known right away, but that had been a romanticized ideal, not real love, even if it had felt like real love in the moment. The fact was that she lived in London at the time, and he in America. Still, some of the happiest moments of his life were spent with Roxie on that trip to London.

“I think I knew right away, but when I knew I wanted to love her and only her for the rest of my life was after her bakery was burglarized. I already cared so much about her, but when I heard that she’d been robbed, the reality that I could’ve lost her forever hit me like a freight train. That was when I realized that I wanted to love her for as long as I could. And then when she was kidnapped, I realized that I would never love anyone the way I love her ever again, and I wouldn’t want to either.”

Greyson's eyebrows raised. “This was two separate incidents? Is New York really that dangerous?”

“No,” Rafael answered. “New York isn’t anymore dangerous than any other major city. This was a small group of isolated incidents. Some people that I prosecuted a long time ago were trying to get to me, and so they took it out on the woman I loved the most.”

“That sounds very scary.” He put a hand on Rafael's arm and gave it a sympathetic pat before letting go. “I'm sorry you went through that, but something clearly good came of it. You have a beautiful bride and your whole lives ahead of you.”

“I'm bored,” Eddie called out from the table sitting down. “I thought we were getting strippers.”

Greyson chuckled and rolled his eyes.

“No strippers, go find strippers on your own time,” Rafael called back, taking one more raspberry and moving to the table with Eddie.

Greyson followed, getting comfortable in Eddie's lap, effectively shutting Eddie up.

Izzy and Nevada took a seat a few moments later as the woman came over to collect and properly label each ingredient basket.

“Next you'll be designing labels.” She handed them a menu of colors, designs and fonts.

“Jesus fucking Christ. Oye mami, do we get to have a little vino while we play arts and crafts?” Nevada asked, looking up at the woman. “I’m thirsty,” he said with a wink, smirking at her.

She smiled and nodded. “Of course.” She grabbed a menu, handing each of them one. “Feel free to select anything on the menu, compliments of the house while you make your own bottles.”

“Coño, que bueno,” Nevada mused, looking over the menu. “I wanna put a cat on my bottle, you got any of those fluffy little pom poms?” he asked, looking up at her again.

“Jesus, we can’t take you anywhere,” Rafael groaned, rolling his eyes in annoyance as he looked through the design book with Izzy.

“It's digital design sir,” she said softly.

Eddie looked at the book and smiled. “This one looks like the invitations you had to your second wedding tio,” he said with a grin. “She'll love this one.”

“I want a cat. A kitten,” he replied, shaking his head and unable to help the smirk that came over his features at the private joke.

“Just let him get a cat Eddie--”

“A kitten,” Nevada corrected.

“A kitten, a cat, whatever your mind desires,” Rafael replied, finally coming to a page with a design that looked to be made for a baker. “I’d like this one, with ‘Rafael and Roxie Barba’ and the year scripted underneath,” he said to the woman, pointing at the design.

She smiled and nodded then moved to Nevada. “I can have one of our illustrators come up with a cat design, what would you like it to say?”

Nevada thought for a moment, smirking when he came up with something before writing it down and handing it, face down to the woman. She took the sheet and read it, blushing and clearing her throat.

“What type of font would you like?” she asked.

“Something in cursive,” he answered, winking at her.

She nodded and moved to the back room again, returning with wine. “Here you all are,” she smiled giving them each a glass except for Eddie and Greyson whom she gave sodas.

“Gracias,” Nevada called out to her. “Bueno, what do we do now? We gotta take off our shoes and stomp the juice outta this shit?” he asked.

“This isn’t I Love Lucy, Nevada,” Rafael mused, arching a brow.

“What's that?” Eddie asked curiously. Both Greyson and Izzy also looked to them for an explanation.

“You’ve seen I Love Lucy, cabrón. You used eat that shit up when you were little,” Nevada replied.

“It was a TV show with Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz,” Rafael offered. “It plays on syndication all the time. You mean to tell me that none of you have ever even heard of I Love Lucy? Either you purposely live in the dark or you’ve never watched television a day in your life.” He looked at Izzy. “You might be the exception since your childhood consisted mostly of Flavor of Love.”

Izzy smiled fondly at the memory.

Greyson thought. “Was it on before Keeping Up With The Kardashians started? I didn't follow much tv before then.”

“Is Lucy hot?” Eddie added.

“You’ve seen it, pendejo!” Nevada said again, louder this time.

“Yes, it was on way before...Keeping Up With the Kardashians. Really? That’s good TV?” Rafael asked with a look of pure bewilderment.

“Jesus Christ, bro, these guys don’t even know what good TV is,” Nevada mused, looking back at his brother in law. “The fuck are we gonna do?”

“Make them sit through at least five episodes of Lucy,” Rafael answered.

“And All in the Family,” Nevada added.

“That might go over their heads,” Rafael observed.

“I don't know what they're talking about,” Izzy mumbled.

“Old people tv.” Eddie smirked as he looked to Greyson. “Oye you're not supposed to tell people that you like the Kardashians, that's shit you don't talk about.”

Greyson blinked and quirked a brow. “Why not? When Kim had her second baby we talked about it for weeks.”

“Coño, called. Out,” Nevada chimed, looking from Eddie to Greyson before he added. “Oye, I have a picture of this kid from when he was eight, dressed as Ricky Ricardo. Remind me to show you. He even had a little guitar and everything.”

“So you know exactly what I Love Lucy is, you’re just afraid of being included in the ‘old people’ category,” Rafael mused, smirking at Eddie. “Sorry to break it to you, mijo, but it sounds like you were an I Love Lucy fan.”

“I don’t get why these kids care so much about what the fuck Kardishens are doing. What the fuck talent does it take to be a big enough cunt to have TV show about your life?” Nevada asked no one in particular. “Kim, isn’t she the pendeja that had that sex tape?”

“Yes,” Rafael answered and Nevada sucked his teeth.

“She leaked that shit on purpose.”

“It's a terrible show,” Eddie grumbled.

“That he watches weekly,” Greyson teased.

Izzy looked at everyone and rolled her eyes. “How do you even have time to watch tv? I don't even have a tv in my house, it stifles my artistic creativity.”

Greyson and Eddie both blew raspberries at her and gave her the thumbs down.

“It does!”

“Good for you, Izzy. Reality television has sucked the creativity out of everything,” Rafael replied. “Sorry, but it’s true. The only reason people enjoy watching reality TV is more often than not because they would rather watch someone else make chaos out of their life than deal with whatever chaos is going on in theirs.”

“It’s like watching other people be trash to feel better about yourself,” Nevada added.

“Right. There’s no more fictional story to serve as an allegory for everyday life. Now, people deal by watching others fail,” Rafael replied.

“Are we gonna suck this bad when we're in our fifties?” Eddie asked with a smirk.

Izzy laughed as Greyson swatted them. “Eddie that's rude.”

“And I’m not even in my mid-forties yet,” Rafael added, glaring at his nephew. “But you may wanna take into consideration how karma works. My guess is that you’ll see your first grey hair by the time you’re thirty.” He looked at Izzy. “You’re about halfway there, hermanita. It won’t be long until Lily and the twins will be calling you two ‘old.’”

“I don’t give a fuck about being old. I get laid whenever I want, I got money to keep my wife and my kids comfortable, and I do what I want,” Nevada mused, shrugging. “Who gives a shit about grey hairs. Women love that shit.”

“There is no way my sister is getting you laid whenever you want,” Izzy mused and shook her head.

“How do you figure? She’s turned me down maybe twice in almost ten years.” Nevada replied. “Niña, I get laid whenever I want.”

“Ew,” she made a face.

“What’s ew about it? Your sister’s hot--”

“Okay! Thank you,” Rafael exclaimed, shaking his head a little as he took a big gulp of wine.

The kids all chuckled.

“I'm glad we did this,” Roxie smiled as she sipped her tea.

You smiled back at her, this was painfully boring, but if she was happy, that's what mattered.

Amber looked at her watch. “Oh man, I gotta go feed Fallon, so I have to head out.” She hugged you and Roxie tight before waving to the other girls and moving for the door. “See you tomorrow when you're Mrs. Barba,” Amber said with a smile.

“Hasta luego!” Vanessa chirped, smiling widely at Amber and waiting until the woman walked out before she turned to Roxie. “Mira chica, you better let her know that Rafelito is your man, me entiendes? Ex girlfriends sometimes think they still have a hold, you gotta nip that in the buck,” she said with a serious expression.

Roxie laughed. “They can't stand each other, plus, I'm not worried.” She smiled at Vanessa.

“Bueno, aya tu,” Vanessa answered, looking over at you. “Y tu, I wanna meet that handsome husband I’ve been hearing so much about. Como se llama?”

“Nevada.” You beamed moving to grab your phone and pulling up a picture of Nevada and the kids all piled on top of him. He looked handsome as always but your focus was on how much he smiled with the kids, you loved that about him.

“Coño, que sexy!” she exclaimed, taking your phone and staring at Nevada. “And green eyes, dios mio! Maybe I should move to New York.”

You laughed. “He's the love of my life,” you said, almost to yourself.

“And you? Do you have a boyfriend or husband?” Vanessa asked Isla.

Isla shook her head. “We broke up, I'm focusing on my schooling right now,” she replied, smiling.

“Aye, que bueno. It’s good to be single,” Vanessa replied. “Now and days, we have to keep our options open.”

Isla giggled and nodded as she held Roxie's hand. “I'm so excited for you, you deserve someone like him. He's an amazing man.”

Roxie was glowing as she smiled back. “Thank you, I'm so excited as well.”

The two girls hugged and you sipped your tea.

“Right then, let's all go to a movie,” Isla stood as the other women followed.

You were glad Roxie was enjoying herself because you certainly weren't. But you'd suffer through hours of this for the woman your brother loved. She was family now.

Rafael followed Izzy to the car, their bottles of wine in hand, and smiled at her.

“Thank you for this, it was fun,” he said, putting an arm around her shoulders.

She smiled back at him. “I may seem ditzy, but I pay attention to you and I cherish the things that make you who you are. So I know how to show you a good night.”

He snorted softly, nodding his head. “I’ve never thought you were ditzy. Maybe a little naive in some areas, but never ditzy,” he replied.

“Can we go to a strip club now?” Eddie chimed as they got in the car.

“No,” Rafael replied, sitting in the front seat while Nevada got in the driver’s seat.

“Then at least show me your bottle tio,” Eddie said to Nevada. “Please?”

“I already know what you’re gonna say when you see it. Why should I show it to you?” he asked, glancing back at Eddie in the rearview mirror.

“Because it got our hostess hot and bothered. What did you do?”

“I didn’t do shit, all I did was make a wine bottle for your tia,” Nevada replied. “What’d you put on your wine bottle?” he asked.

“They didn't let me and Greyson make one,” Eddie said with a frown. “But I already got him something special the first day we got here,” he grinned and pulled Greyson closer.

Greyson blushed again and smiled as he tugged at a chain around his neck with a silver ring at the end.

“Awww an engagement ring, coño que cute,” Nevada cooed as they drove back to the hotel.

Eddie didn't say a word of contradiction, just smiling and pressing a kiss to Greyson's lips.

“What is it with you kids getting married at such a young age?” Rafael asked himself. “Like its some kind of game that you can just hit the replay button on.”

“No shit,” Nevada mumbled.

“No one said anything about marriage but you,” Eddie pointed out. “I'm not as stupid as Izzy.”

Izzy took off her heel and chucked it at his face. “Asshole.”

“Besides tio, I'm not gonna wait until I'm in my forties...that's kinda sad. No offense. You're handsome and accomplished and stuff but...by the time your kids get to college they'll be changing your diapers.”

The mood suddenly shifted as Rafael said nothing, just stared at the window, biting on the inside of his lip. He’d heard it from everyone around him for as long as he could remember; sure they were impressed with his accomplishments, but somehow he was considered less than because he’d waited so long to settle down. He could’ve let it go, it wasn’t as though Eddie even knew that Roxie lost a baby or that she’d been carrying one in the first place, but the kid had inadvertently hit a sore spot. And the worst part was that everyone else in the car-- with the exception of Greyson and Eddie-- knew it.

If it had been isolated, Rafael might’ve been able to wave it off and heckle right back as he usually did, but it wasn’t isolated. It one in a number of endless strings of jokes with regard to his age.

“Oye, you know something?” Nevada spoke up after a moments of dead silence. “You can be a real fucking dick sometimes.”

Greyson nudged Eddie, shooting him a look.

“Fuck, I'm sorry tio, that was really shitty,” Eddie said as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“I don't blame you for waiting,” Greyson spoke up. “If you hadn't waited for the right person, you just would have divorced anyway. It's important not to jump into things. Besides, there's nothing wrong with being in love with your work. My dad was a doctor and he raised me by himself. He never felt the need for a wife because he was helping people and saving lives. Rafael just had a different calling until now, I think that's really admirable. Roxie is beautiful and accomplished, you both seem like such a wonderful couple, I couldn't imagine you with anyone else.”

He nudged Eddie again.

“Tio you've always been the guy I looked up to,” Eddie mumbled. “I know I'm an asshole but I didn't mean that shit.”

“Then why’d you say it, cabrón?” Nevada chimed and Rafael waved him off, shaking his head.

“Just let it go, Nevada,” he mumbled.

“Just a tip,” Izzy mumbled only loud enough for Eddie to hear. “When you’re invited to a bachelor party, it’s supposed to be the best night before the best day of a guy’s life. Maybe leave the cruel jokes for another time.”

“I said I was sorry. Who are you to talk? You're always bothering him. Being all needy and trying to monopolize him and fuck him.”

“Hey!!” Rafael boomed, finally turning his head to glare at Eddie.

Izzy threw her hands up. “Why does everyone think I'm trying to fuck Rafael?!” she shouted in frustration.

“Apologize to her, now. That was completely unnecessary,” Rafael said.

Eddie sighed loudly. “Sorry,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“Oye, Greyson, lemme ask you something. How does this kid even have friends?” Nevada asked, glancing back at Greyson.

Greyson looked down at his hands and Eddie took his hand, squeezing it.

“I don't really have friends,” Eddie said after a long moment. “Not because of the way I act though. I usually don't act like this. Something about family puts me on edge. I'm sorry…”

“I've actually never seen him like this before,” Greyson said softly. “He's usually the nicest guy.”

“Your family puts you on edge. That’s nice, real nice,” Nevada mumbled. “Bueno, I don’t wanna stress you out anymore than I have to,” he added.

“That's not what I mean and you know it.” Eddie frowned. “But I'm not me when I come back to the Heights, I don't know how to explain it…” he sighed. “Look, I'm just gonna bow out of the rest of tonight.” He opened the car door when it stopped and smiled at Rafael. “Sorry Tio, I really am.”

Greyson moved to follow but Eddie stopped him. “Go have fun, you shouldn't always have to clean up my messes.” He kissed the boys lips and moved to head into the hotel alone.

“Oye!” Nevada called out, putting the car in park and getting out to follow Eddie. “You don’t get to feel sorry for yourself right now, me entiendes? Don���t tell me that you’re not you when you come home, and that’s why you act like an asshole. That’s bullshit, where you are has shit to do with who you are, me entiendes?” he said. “So instead of playing the victim, and the misunderstood guy, why don’t you be the man that me and your tia raised you to be, and come spend time with your tio before he gets married.”

Eddie wanted to protest, Nevada had no idea how wrong he was but he just nodded. “I don't think Rafael will want me there anymore, but if he's okay with it, I'd be happy to come.”

“Of course he wants you there, you were his first nephew. Why wouldn’t he want you there?” Nevada asked.

“Okay,” Eddie nodded and put his hands in his pockets. “He's better than me, he deserves a shit ton more than I can ever give him...but I'm gonna marry him,” he said seriously before he began moving back to the car.

“You can’t marry him, he’s marrying Roxie tomorrow, bobo,” Nevada replied, pulling Eddie back to stand in front of him. “What’s going on with you?” he asked softly.

“You know who I meant,” he mumbled but looked down at his feet. “I don't want to...I'm not ready to talk about it,” he whispered. He felt a few tears slide down his cheek as he shook his head, wiping them away and then putting on a smile. “We should go celebrate.”

Grabbing a handful of hair on the back of his nephew’s head, he gently pulled so that he could see Eddie’s face. Bringing him closer, he placed a firm kiss on his forehead and gently patted him on the back.

“When you’re ready, you know where to find me,” he said. “I’ll tell you what I put on your tia’s wine bottle.”

“What?”

Nevada smirked, leaning in to whisper it Eddie’s ear, and the boy made a face.

“Ew!” he said in a chuckle, earning a laugh from Nevada.

“I told you, I already knew what you’d say,” he chortled.

Eddie laughed and smiled at Nevada for a moment before stepping close to him and pressing his face to Nevada's chest, not hugging him, but staying close for a long moment. Without hesitation, Nevada wound his arms around the kid’s frame, hugging him tightly and letting his mouth rest on the top of his head.

“You know, no matter how much of a dick you are, I love you. Nothing’s ever gonna change that. I’m always gonna love you no matter what, me entiendes?”

“Don't make promises if you can't keep them,” he whispered in warning.

“No matter what, I’m always gonna love you,” Nevada said again.

Eddie nodded and pulled back, wiping his tear stained cheeks again. “Gimme a sec, I'll be right there okay?” He nodded to the car. Nevada nodded back, moving towards the car to get back into the driver’s seat.

Izzy rolled her eyes, “I can't believe you're dating that creep,” she mumbled to Greyson.

“Oye, ya esta bueno ya. When he gets back in the car, nobody says anything else about it,” Nevada said, looking back at Izzy.

“He didn’t mean what he said, Izzy. He’s angry about something,” Rafael observed. “He’s probably just not ready to talk about it yet.”

“That creep would take a bullet for me,” Greyson said softly. “And you too Izzy, he loves you with all his heart. He talks about all of you so fondly, which is why I was so shocked by the way he was behaving…”

“Do you know what’s going on with him?” Rafael asked, looking back at Greyson.

Greyson looked out the window sadly to his boyfriend. “I do,” he nodded. “Which is why I'm going to beg you all to cut him some slack, please. Just this once.”

“What’s his problem?” Izzy asked. “I think we have a right to know.”

“No, you really don't,” Greyson said firmly for the first time since he'd met them. He sounded very sure of himself and stern.

“It’s not his business to tell us anyway, Izzy,” Rafael offered softly.

“That’s bullshit, so we just have to smile and take his verbal abuse?”

“Izzy. Enough,” Rafael said.

“I know it's a lot to ask, but please Izzy,” Greyson said softly.

Izzy gritted her teeth but nodded, more than anything she was upset she didn't know. Eddie was her best friend. They told each other everything...or so she thought.

Eddie moved back into the car and smiled, sitting next to Greyson. “So what now?”

You dialed Nevada at around ten, waiting desperately for him to answer as you sat in the movie theater bathroom.

“Hey mami, what are you guys up to? Having fun?” he asked softly, having moved from the living area of Rafael’s suite to the balcony that overlooked the beach.

“I'm going insane,” you hissed. “I need to get out of here!”

“Why? What’s the matter?” he asked.

“We had tea and now we're watching some trashy romcom, coño at this rate I'm going to die of boredom.”

“Bueno, if it makes you feel any better, we’re not doing anything that exciting. Just sitting around in  Rafael’s suite, drinking, shooting the shit,” he replied. “Just try to remember it’s not your bridal shower.”

“I know, but who the fuck enjoys this? Even Vanessa likes the movie!” you sighed, “I need to get back before they worry.”

“Try to have fun, chica. Don’t be that girl,” he said softly. “I got you something, by the way.”

“Oooh is it big?” you purred.

“Kind of. Bottle of wine made just for you,” he replied with a smirk.

“Seriously?” you asked in surprise. “That's so romantic. Thank you,” you smiled, blushing a bit.

“Wait till you see what I named it,” he answered with a grin.

“Oh god,” you said with a laugh. “I can't wait. We'll be back within the hour. So after that I'll be in bed. I love you.”

“Love you too,” he replied, hanging up.

By the time the movie ended, you all were yawning heading back to the hotel for the next morning.

“This was perfect,” Roxie said seriously.

You smiled at that, even if it hadn't been your style of party, the bride had a blast. That's what mattered. You gave her a huge hug and smiled.

“I'm so glad you had a good night, your sister knows how to throw a good party.”

Isla beamed at you.

As you all walked back to your hotel rooms, you glanced to Vanessa and smiled, deciding how to politely get her to leave.

“Bueno, now that the Mary Sues are in bed, let’s go get drunk,” Vanessa said excitedly. “We should go and see what the men are doing.”

“I can't,” you said, not able to think of a reason why not.

“Ay, why not? Don’t pretend like you weren’t as bored as I was. Coño, and Rafael is marrying her? She must be really good in the kitchen and even better in the bedroom,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “Porque la chiquita es un coño al revés.”

You shook your head, “she's a wonderful girl. But she isn't wild. I think that's one of the reasons he loves her.” You sighed, “come on, let's go see the boys,” you resigned and grabbed her hand, tugging her to Rafael's suite and knocking.

Nevada answered, opening the door and closing it a little when he saw it was you so as to hide the fact that Eddie and Greyson were drinking with them.

“Hola mami,” he said with a smirk. “You guys have fun?”

“We had a blast,” you said as you crooked a finger. “Come meet my cousin?”

“Yeah, okay,” he mumbled, following you down the hall a ways.

“Coño, Y/N, que sexy!” She looked him over when he stepped out. “El es el hombre de mis sueños,” she laughed and ran a hand over his chest, inspecting him while you grew increasingly more annoyed in the background.

Luckily only Nevada could see your urge to choke her.

“Well you're family now,” she said with a sly grin, tapping her lips, “dame un besito, Papi.”

Arching a brow at her, he dipped his head, quickly moving to give her a cheek kiss instead, the same kind he gave to your mother whenever he saw her. As he pulled away, her hands locked behind his head and pulled him down for a full on kiss on the lips, and he looked over at you as she hummed against his mouth.

You closed your eyes, mentally blocking it out. If you let her get to you, it was over. “That's more than enough of a welcome, thank you Vanessa,” you said as calmly as you could.

Letting him go, she licked her lips, humming softly as she looked him over again.

“Bueno, are you going to invite us in?” she asked.

“Sabes que? I was just leaving, y yo creo que Rafi se vas a dormir tambien,” he replied, moving over to where you stood and wrapping an arm around you.

He could feel every muscle in your body was tense as you grit your teeth, smiling at her. “We should probably head to bed too,” you said with false remorse.

“Ay, que pena. Bueno, I’ll see you tomorrow then, I guess,” she said, pouting before she grinned at Nevada. “Hasta luego, papi,” she purred, running a hand over his chest and brushing past him.

“Coño, that was scary,” he mumbled to you after she got on the elevator. “She used her tongue too, it was disgusting,” he added, moving back into Rafael’s room to grab the wine he’d made, still wrapped in the brown paper bag.

You waited outside for him, arms crossed and still furious with her. When he came out again, he placed his free hand on your hip, walking with you towards your room just down the hall.

“Oye, have you talked to Eddie lately?” he asked softly, trying to steer the conversation a bit. The last thing he wanted was for you to go to sleep angry, even if it wasn’t with him.

“Just casual chit chat, why?” You looked over, anger immediately replaced with concern. “What's wrong? Is he okay?”

“I don’t know. Something’s going on with him, but he wouldn’t tell me,” he replied unlocking the door to your suite. “I can tell something’s off though.”

You frowned and nodded. “Okay...should we talk to him? I don't want to push it if he isn't ready but…”

You stripped off your dress, letting it fall to the floor and unhooked your bra as well, stretching and turning to him.

“We should spend more time with him, I worry.”

“Yeah, and no just let him come to us when he’s ready. If we push him, he’ll never open up,” he replied, setting the still wrapped wine bottle down before he took off his jacket. “You wanna see your present?” he asked with a smirk, unwrapping the wine and holding it against his chest so you still couldn’t see the label as he slowly walked up to you.

You smiled and kicked off your panties as you walked to him as well, meeting him in the middle and holding out your hands excitedly.

Turning the bottle, he showed you the label, smirking as he watched your reaction.

Your jaw dropped as you traced your fingers over the label, a simple outline drawing of a beautiful cat with the cursive inscription, Daddy's Little Kitten.

You stared for a minute, then two, examining the bottle. “Did...did our kid and my brother and sister see this?”

He shook his head. “No...but Eddie knows what it says, just not what it looks like. I was trying to cheer him up,” he replied.

You made a face before looking back down at the bottle and beaming, “You made it for me?” You set it on the table and wrapped your arms around his neck. “I love it,” you whispered, “It's absolutely perfect.”

“Wanna drink it?” he asked, wrapping his arms around your waist.

You smiled and nodded, “Yes I do. Also, why did I get a text from my sister saying I should turn you down for sex more?”

“Cause she’s trying to prove a point,” he answered honestly. “They were getting on me and your brother about being old, and I told her I didn’t give a shit about being old, cause I got enough that you and my kids are comfortable and I get laid whenever I want.”

You made a face, “Don't make it sound like I'm the one begging for sex all the time...even if I am,” you mumbled with a laugh as you grabbed wine glasses and opened the bottle, sniffing it. “This smells delightful,” you beamed at him, nodding to his fully dressed form. “Stop making me feel like a nudist, unless you're gonna spank me, strip down buddy,” you teased.

“I didn’t make it sound like you were the one begging for sex, I was just saying. You’ve only turned me down a few times in all the time we’ve been together. Me too, I haven’t turned you down that many times,” he replied, unbuttoning his shirt with one hand.

You nodded in agreement, “I like having sex with you.” You waited until he was stripped before handing him a glass and taking your own. “To us and our earth-shattering sex since day one,” you teased with a wink.

Clinking his glass with you, he took a tentative sip from the glass, furrowing his brows and looking down at the dark red liquid.

“Oye, not for nothing, pero this is pretty fucking good, no?” he asked, taking another sip.

“This is super good,” you nodded in agreement, “baby this is the best,” you hugged him tight and sipped your wine again. “I love that you thought of me,” you whispered softly. “I'm sorry for today, I hate fighting.”

“I do too, pero we were just fucking around. You guys always take us so serious, coño how long have you been married to me?” he asked with a smirk.

“I know, but she's hurting from this divorce. All I ask is you just give it some time before you're all giving her shit. She's getting no sleep with the baby and she misses Omar, even if it isn't romantically. But I know you never mean any harm,” You kissed him again. “Let's just forget about it and spend the rest of the night doing something better,” you winked.

“Okay,” he mumbled against your mouth, kissing you deeply.

Rafael knocked on Roxie’s door, sliding his hands into his pockets as he waited for her to answer. The two of them had decided to sleep apart the night before the wedding, and he just wanted to see her so he could properly say goodnight.

Roxie opened the door and smiled immediately, she was in a soft white silk nightgown that had the word “bride” written onto the left chest piece.

“Hi,” she smiled at him.

“Hi,” he replied, smiling back at her, and looking her over briefly. “You look beautiful,” he mumbled. “How was your night?”

“It was really pleasant,” she said as she stepped closer, “and yours?”

“It was nice, actually. We made wine,” he answered, leaning against the door frame. “I can’t believe we’re getting married tomorrow,” he whispered.

“Yeah,” she blushed and bit her lip. “I'm so happy, I never really thought about anything but my career before you. You make me feel like I can have the whole world.”

“So do you,” he replied, still smiling a little before it began to falter a little. “Do you think I’m too old to be a father?” he asked.

“What? Of course not, who said that rubbish to you?” She shook her head, “You're not old, Rafael. Sorry to break it to you.”

“I know I’m not, it was just...something Eddie said earlier…” He shook his head, looking down at his bare feet. “It’s nothing,” he added, smiling softly up at her.

“It's not nothing,” she whispered and stroked her fingers over his skin. “You are the sexiest, most loving and compassionate man I have ever met. You are going to be the best father, I don't doubt it for a moment.”

Smirking, he pulled her into a tight hug, tucking his face in the crook of her neck.

“I love you so much,” he whispered. “I can’t wait to marry you tomorrow.”

“I love you too,” she hugged back for a moment then smiled. “I'll see you in the morning,” she kissed his lips gently and shooed him away with a giggle.

“Goodnight,” he mumbled, moving back to his suite.

[mrs-iruka]

Think Before you Speak!

I was sent a prompt by the lovely @mairenyaf as follows:

‘I have a prompt (even tho you're not asking for any I just really want you to write this cause I love your writing) established relationship au where they do a joint live show because Phil has laryngitis so he texts Dan all he wants to say so Dan reads it to the audience and Phil sends Dan some sappy message and Dan reads it without noticing so that's how they come out, very fluffy and a kiss at end of the live show so i can live my dreams through fiction (you can add all you'd like Ily).’

I truly hope you like this, my lovely. I did my best with the prompt. Enjoy!

***

Phil had woken up that morning with laryngitis. His throat had been feeling a little scratchy since his return from America just over a week ago, but he thought nothing was actually going to come of it this time, as usually the virus would break a few days after getting home. He’d been trying to shout up their connecting staircase to Dan that he’d made coffee, and when no sound had come out, Phil had slumped at the kitchen table with his head in his hands. So when he awoke to find his voice was totally gone, he was less than happy - especially as it was the first Thursday since getting back to the UK and he’d been looking forward to doing a liveshow, the first in a few weeks. When Dan had woken he found his boyfriend curled up beside him in bed looking thoroughly fed-up and miserable.

“Morning, love,” said Dan sleepily.

But got no reply from Phil.

“Okay, what have I done?” sighed Dan.

Phil motioned to his throat.

“What? I don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me. Just talk to me Phil.”

For a moment Phil looked very frustrated before he extended an arm across to his nightstand and grabbed his phone. Phil opened his memo page and began to type.

‘I’ve lost my voice!’ :(

It took Dan a little while to process what exactly Phil had written, but when it did sink in, Dan let go a small laugh, causing Phil to glance at Dan balefully.

‘It’s not funny, Dan! I’ve got calls to make, plus a liveshow to do later.’  Typed Phil.

“Yes it is! It’s too funny. So I’m finally going to get a few days of peace at long last,” said Dan jokingly.

This caused Phil to pout.

‘I hate you!’

“No you don’t,” laughed Dan before pulling his boyfriend into his arms to give him a good morning cuddle.

***

All day Phil had been alternating between texting Dan and using his memo pad on his phone to communicate.

At around four o’clock Phil text Dan:

To: Danny Boy 16:00

Dan, I’ve just fallen over in the bathroom and now my ankle hurts! Help!

Dan came barging his way into the bathroom to find Phil sat on the floor holding his ankle, a sad expression on his face.

“What did you do? No, you know what, never mind, let’s get you onto the bed.”

Dan bent forward and helped pull Phil to his good foot. Phil wound his arms around Dan’s neck and buried his face in the crook - it was the place he loved the most and just held Dan close.

“Honestly Phil, you’re a nightmare,” said Dan softly before drawing back a little and planting a soft kiss to Phil’s forehead. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

Phil kept one arm wound around Dan’s neck, the other he held out to the side to try and balance himself as he hopped along the landing. A few times Phil nearly fell taking Dan with him, but thankfully, Dan managed to stay manfully upright.

Once Dan had managed to get Phil on to the bed, Dan collapsed across the end of the bed.

“Jesus Christ, Phil, you nearly had us both over,” complained Dan as he rubbed his arms.

Phil chucked his phone at Dan.

‘I’m so sorry, my foot went from under me and I just went down. It hurts so much.’

Dan sighed and sat up. “You had better let me check that.”

Gently, Dan pulled the sock off of Phil’s foot, and indeed there was a slight swelling.

“Right grab a couple of the spare pillows underneath my top one whilst I go and grab an ice pack from the freezer,” ordered Dan.

Doing as he was told, Phil grabbed the spares, and put them under his ankle to elevate it. Dan was back in minutes with an ice pack wrapped in a tea-towel and gently placed it on Phil’s ankle. This action caused Phil to wince a little at the cold contact to his skin, but this soon melted away.

“Okay?” asked Dan.

Phil just nodded miserably.

***

‘Dan, I want to still do a liveshow tonight? Will you be my voice?’ asked Phil via his memo pad a couple of hours later.

“Really Phil? Can’t you just put a tweet out explaining that you’ve lost your voice, and you’ll do one next week?” asked Dan with a frown.

‘No! It’s been a few weeks as it is, and I want to see everyone’s lovely words!’ typed Phil stubbornly.

“You mean get attention, you tart,” said Dan good-naturedly.

Phil had the good grace to blush at that statement.

‘So you’ll do it? Pls? Ily!’

Phil gave Dan his most loving smile, the smile that made Dan feel like agreeing to anything.

“Okay, okay, I’ll do it,” grumbled Dan. “I hate you!”

But Phil just winked.

***

Phil put out a tweet:

Phil Lester

Hey guys! So I am doing a liveshow tonight, but I’ve lost my voice, so Dan has agreed to be my voice tonight. See you at 7pm.

***

The liveshow was a few minutes late starting due to Dan mucking about in the kitchen making drinks for them both.

When Dan had sat down, Phil hit the ‘Go Live’ button and the show began. Dan knew the routine of saying hello to some of Phil’s followers as they arrived. Once sufficient amount of people had been greeted, Dan turned to Phil, and hastily, Phil began to text. The phone in Dan’s pocket pinged.

Dan let out an inaudible sigh and pulled his phone out of his pocket to read Phil’s message aloud.

‘Hey guys, so thanks for joining us tonight. As you can see I have lost my voice so I have Dan acting as my voice for this evening.’

Phil began scanning the chat for questions whilst Dan made some small talk. A moment later, Dan’s phone pinged again.

‘Mary asks: How was Vidcon? It was good. Got to see lots of our friends again, and to meet a lot of you guys, which is always nice. Though whoever it was that sneezed on me is in my bad books lol.’

Dan read the text aloud again.

“Would you like me to read the premium messages?” asked Dan of Phil.

Phil gave a nod of approval.

“Phangirl33 says: thx for doing the show tonight,” read Dan.

Ping.

“Phil said: Thanks for being here,” read Dan.

The longer the liveshow went on, the more irritated Dan seemed to be getting. He wasn’t even really paying attention to what was even being said anymore. Which in the end caused Dan to make a huge mistake!

Dan read aloud the text that Phil had just sent him.

‘Dan, I know you’re not enjoying this very much, but I really do appreciate you doing this for me. You know if it was the other way around I would do the same for you, right? I love you so very, very much, Dan, always have and I always will.’ 

Dan’s eyes widen when he realised what exactly it was he’d done. He hadn’t meant to have read that message aloud, Dan looked at Phil in complete horror. Phil looked as if he was ready to pass out, Dan didn’t dare look at the chat has he knew full well what was likely being said. For a moment the guys just stared at each other before Phil began to silently laugh at the whole damn situation. It wasn’t long before Dan started laughing his head off too.

“I can’t believe I’ve just royally fucked up like that,” spluttered Dan. Red faced and wet cheeked, and totally forgetting about the liveshow for a moment. It wasn’t until Phil started pointing at the laptop did Dan remember. Dan gave Phil an enquiring look, and when Phil nodded Dan began to speak.

“Okay, so we hadn’t intended to come out that way, fuck, we never intended to come out at all, we were going to leave to your imaginations. But now that I’ve gone and screwed things up, this is it,” said Dan nervously.

Dan dared glance at the chat, it was speeding along at a hundred miles per hour by now, and was full of ‘OMG!’ ‘I’m crafting’ ‘Kiss’ ‘ASDFGHJKL WHAT?’ ‘WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED?’ Dan glanced back at Phil before wrapping a large hand around the side of Phil’s neck and pulling him in for a kiss.

When they broke apart, they found the stream had completely crashed. The servers had been broken and they were just facing a black screen.

“Oops!” muttered Dan. Right now, his worries about the backlash they were going to likely face over the next few days sat heavily on his shoulders, but at the same time Dan felt so free.

‘I can’t believe you did that, Dan! But I’m so glad you did. I love you, and at long last I feel so... free... what abt you?’

“Me too, Phil, me too.”

[the-desolated-quill]

Captain Britain Joining The MCU. Give Me Fucking Strength - Quill’s Scribbles

You know there are some points in my life where a person or a movie studio does something so stupid and moronic that my only response is... what the fuck are you doing?

DC, what the fuck are you doing?

Marvel, what the fuck are you doing?

Kevin Feige... what the fuck are you doing?!

Yes, apparently Marvel Studios are considering putting Captain Britain into the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Something I’m sure every comic book fan in the land has been crying out for. Now I’m sure you’re wondering what I, a British person, may think of this. Do I feel patriotic? Proud that such a ‘beloved’ British icon is going to be part of the MCU?

Yeah, I can’t say I’m excited about the prospect and the reason is because... um... how do I put this?... Captain Britain is quite possibly the dumbest thing to ever come out of Marvel (and I’m including Howard The Duck).

Captain Britain was created by Chris Claremont and Herb Trimpe to be the British equivalent of Captain America. But whereas Captain America took off and became a relatively integral part of the American comics industry, Captain Britain never had quite the same impact with us Brits. In fact in contrast with Captain America, he’s actually a very obscure character. While he does have his fans (very few fans), most people have either never heard of him or, like me, can’t stand the fucking sight of him, finding the character to be more patronising than patriotic.

There’s a number of reasons why Captain Britain never took off, but first let’s quickly sum up his backstory. Brian Braddock (smirk) was born into an aristocratic family in Essex and educated at Fettes College In Edinburgh. Because his family were no longer rich enough to fraternise with their academic peers, Brian was a quiet and lonely child because he was too proud to fraternise with the lower classes (and I’m sure we in the lower classes were eternally grateful for that, you stuck up git). After his parents, Sir James and Lady Elizabeth (oh I do beg your pardon) die in a laboratory accident, Brian gets a job at a nuclear facility at Darkmoor. When this facility is attacked by a terrorist, Brian gets on his motorcycle (a motorcycle? Oh come now! Surely that’s far too lower class for him. Shouldn’t he be riding a horse and cart? Pip, pip! Tally ho chaps! We’ll give the ruffians what for!) and goes looking for help only to then crash and get seriously injured (you had one job! That’s you off the Queen’s Christmas card list). He is then saved by Merlyn (yes, that Merlin) and is offered the chance to become Captain Britain. He’s asked to choose between the Amulet of Right (pffft) and the Sword of Might (tee hee). Brian chooses the amulet and he transforms into the champion of Great Britain, fighting for Queen and country and all that is pre-shrunk and cottony... Oh no, wait. That’s from Captain Underpants. Have you ever read Captain Underpants? It’s a brilliant series of books. Very funny. Did you know that DreamWorks are doing a movie adaptation? I’m very excited! :D

Now you may have noticed that I wasn’t really taking this seriously. And really, how could I? It sounds more like a parody of Captain America. But no. Apparently we’re supposed to be taking this very seriously. So come on. Let’s be serious about this for a moment. No! Stop sniggering! Control yourselves, please! This could very well be the next big thing in the MCU.

As I said, there are many reasons why Captain Britain never really took off. The most glaring example being how stereotypical it is. He comes from an aristocratic family. He went to a boarding school. It’s incredibly painful. He’s one step away from spending Sunday afternoons playing croquet in the grounds and sipping tea in the gazebo before retiring to his four poster bedroom where his butler will give him a glass of port as a nightcap and remind him to get up early in the morning so he won’t be late for a spot of fox hunting with the chaps from Grantham House. I mean Jesus Christ!

Another big reason why Captain Britain doesn’t work is because we don’t really have the same relationship to our flag and our country as the Americans do. Oh sure we can be patriotic on occasion, such as on remembrance days or royal events, but America takes it to a whole other level. Americans love their country. They love their flag. They’re proud to be Americans. To the point where they even have laws dictating how you should take care of your flag. You can actually get punished for not cleaning your flag properly. In some states it’s illegal to wash your flag in a washing machine because it’s disrespectful. That’s insane! Like... it’s just a piece of cloth! Calm down! Brits, generally speaking, don’t have that kind of relationship. In fact kind of the opposite. We often mock our country and view it with a certain amount of disdain. The only people who feel truly patriotic about Britain are the royalists and other such nutters. People who passionately believe that Britain is the best country in the world, who love the Royal family and harken back to the UK’s glorious yesteryears (which never actually existed). While both Captain America and Captain Britain are both equally dumb ideas, I can see why Americans would be drawn to Captain America. An American patriot who stands for American ideals and wears the American flag across his chest with pride. Captain Britain on the other hand, with his Union Jack and his Amulet of Right, is more likely to produce snorts of laughter from us Brits.

But I’ll say one thing for Captain America. It may be a stupid idea and he may talk as though he has the Declaration of Independence shoved firmly up his arse, but at least he doesn’t act all high and mighty or try to lord it over everyone else. No. He fights for the common man and that’s largely because he was a common man himself. A wimpy kid off the streets of Brooklyn determined to become a soldier and fight the Nazis, wanting to protect his country from injustice. His inner strength, good will and patriotism is what made him a prime candidate for the Vita-Ray experiment and he represents an aspirational figure that kids can look up to. Captain Britain is precisely not that. In fact he represents what the majority of Brits actually hate. An overly privileged, upper class prick who has great power bestowed onto him despite the fact that he’s done very little to actually deserve it.

And that’s by far the biggest problem with Captain Britain. As a character, he just doesn’t appeal to us Brits. He’s above us and he sees himself as above us. We don’t want to see that. If we wanted to see that, we’d just watch BBC Parliament. Let me give you an idea of the kind of characters we in the UK love:

Derek Trotter, more commonly known as Del Boy, was the main protagonist of the hugely successful sitcom Only Fools & Horses and is arguably one of the most beloved characters in British culture today. A market trader and con man who sells hooky gear on the streets of Peckham and often gets into trouble due to his get rich quick schemes. 

Dave Lister, a vending machine repair man from the sci-fi sitcom Red Dwarf. This lager drinking, curry loving slob ends up becoming the last surviving member of the human race and a Godlike figure to a new race of people that evolved from his pet cat. As the series progressed, he helped his robot Kryten break his programming and become fully independent, and it’s this that helps him to grow and mature to become the space hero he is now in the current series.

Victor Meldrew, from the sitcom One Foot In The Grave. A middle aged man forced into early retirement and having to find ways to pass the time, be it through peculiar hobbies or shouting at the weird events happening around him, much to the dismay of his wife Margaret.

Basil Fawlty, from the beloved sitcom Fawlty Towers, has become one of the most iconic characters in British culture. A traditionalist, right wing hotelier desperately seeking to raise his social status and to become successful, but is forced to work with people he absolutely despises, including his incompetent Spanish waiter Manuel.

Hyacinth Bucket (pronounced Bouquet) is the main character of the sitcom Keeping Up Appearances. Housewife to her eternally suffering husband Richard, she’s a pompous snob desperately seeking to maintain the illusion that she’s wealthier and more socially important than she actually is. However her attempts to climb the social ladder are often ruined by her working class sisters or her senile father.

And finally, just to bring this back into the realm of comic books there’s:

John Constantine. The chain smoking, working class magician from Liverpool who fights dark supernatural forces on a regular basis and frequently has to make morally dubious choices, often resulting in the deaths of his friends and loved ones.

Now what do all of these characters have in common? They’re all underdogs. Working class. Losers. Idiots. Failures. Those are the types of characters we’re drawn to as a culture. The reason why I included so many sitcom characters is because I feel they perfectly demonstrate the difference between British and American culture. America is brimming with idealism and aspiration. The idea that anyone can become greater than their humble origins, and this is reflected in their culture. In most American movies and TV shows and comic books, the main character is often smarter, wittier, tougher and/or funnier than the audience, representing someone they can aspire to be like. Here in Britain, where our rigid class system is permanently ingrained into us at an early age, we mostly accept the fact we’re likely going to stay where we’re at for the rest of our lives and so our media reflects that by giving us characters that are in similar situations to us. The reason we identify with the likes of Constantine and Lister and Del Boy is because they operate on our level and share our problems and worries. They’re one of us. When Basil Fawlty and Hyacinth Bucket arrogantly disregard their working class roots and try to raise their social status, it’s funny when they fail because serve them right for looking down on us. But when Del Boy eventually becomes a millionaire at the end, we’re legitimately happy for him because we like the character, we want to see him succeed and we’re glad he managed to succeed without compromising who he is. And that’s why Captain Britain will never be accepted by us. He is above us and has power over us and we don’t like that. People with power and authority are to be mocked and shamed, not to be celebrated or aspired to be like.

The idea that Kevin Feige is even considering putting Captain Britain into the MCU for me proves what I’ve been saying about Marvel all along. That they don’t care about creating a coherent or entertaining universe, that they’re adding characters and storylines just for the sake of adding characters and storylines, and that Kevin Feige clearly doesn’t have the slightest fucking idea of what he’s doing. If he did, he honestly wouldn’t think Captain Britain would be a profitable or worthwhile project to pursue. I also feel extremely annoyed by all of this. Remember when Feige said we were definitely going to see an LGBT+ superhero appear in the MCU at some point in the next ten years? Or just recently when he said we were totes going to see Miles Morales’ Spider-Man show up in the MCU at some point in the future? All of these vague half-promises constantly pushed back to make way for more ‘important’ projects like an Ant-Man sequel, an Inhumans TV series or Captain fucking Britain.

Regardless of what your thoughts are on the state of the MCU right now, I think we can all agree that when you get to the stage when you’re seriously considering Captain Britain as a legitimately good idea... maybe it’s time to take a break and reevaluate just what the fuck it is you’re actually doing.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Oh for fuck's sake, not this fucking bullshit again (cryptography edition)

America, Canada, New Zealand, the UK and Australia are in a surveillance alliance called The Five Eyes, through which they share much of their illegally harvested surveillance data.

In a recently released Statement of Principles on Access to Evidence and Encryption, the Five Eyes powers have demanded, again, that strong cryptography be abolished and replaced with defective cryptography so that they can spy on bad guys.

They defend this by saying "Privacy is not absolute."

But of course, working crypto isn't just how we stay private from governments (though god knows all five of the Five Eyes have, in very recent times, proven themselves to be catastrophically unsuited to collect, analyze and act on all of our private and most intimate conversations). It's how we make sure that no one can break into the data from our voting machines, or push lethal fake firmware updates to our pacemakers, or steal all the money from all of the banks, or steal all of the kompromat on all 22,000,000 US military and government employees and contractors who've sought security clearance.

Also, this is bullshit.

Because it won't work.

Here's the text of my go-to post about why this is so fucking stupid. I just can't be bothered anymore. Jesus fucking christ. Seriously? Are we still fucking talking about this? Seriously? Come on, SERIOUSLY?

It’s impossible to overstate how bonkers the idea of sabotaging cryptography is to people who understand information security. If you want to secure your sensitive data either at rest – on your hard drive, in the cloud, on that phone you left on the train last week and never saw again – or on the wire, when you’re sending it to your doctor or your bank or to your work colleagues, you have to use good cryptography. Use deliberately compromised cryptography, that has a back door that only the “good guys” are supposed to have the keys to, and you have effectively no security. You might as well skywrite it as encrypt it with pre-broken, sabotaged encryption.

There are two reasons why this is so. First, there is the question of whether encryption can be made secure while still maintaining a “master key” for the authorities’ use. As lawyer/computer scientist Jonathan Mayer explained, adding the complexity of master keys to our technology will “introduce unquantifiable security risks”. It’s hard enough getting the security systems that protect our homes, finances, health and privacy to be airtight – making them airtight except when the authorities don’t want them to be is impossible.

What these leaders thinks they're saying is, "We will command all the software creators we can reach to introduce back-doors into their tools for us." There are enormous problems with this: there's no back door that only lets good guys go through it. If your Whatsapp or Google Hangouts has a deliberately introduced flaw in it, then foreign spies, criminals, crooked police (like those who fed sensitive information to the tabloids who were implicated in the hacking scandal -- and like the high-level police who secretly worked for organised crime for years), and criminals will eventually discover this vulnerability. They -- and not just the security services -- will be able to use it to intercept all of our communications. That includes things like the pictures of your kids in your bath that you send to your parents to the trade secrets you send to your co-workers.

But this is just for starters. These officials don't understand technology very well, so they doesn't actually know what they're asking for.

For this proposal to work, they will need to stop Britons, Canadians, Americans, Kiwis and Australians from installing software that comes from software creators who are out of their jurisdiction. The very best in secure communications are already free/open source projects, maintained by thousands of independent programmers around the world. They are widely available, and thanks to things like cryptographic signing, it is possible to download these packages from any server in the world (not just big ones like Github) and verify, with a very high degree of confidence, that the software you've downloaded hasn't been tampered with.

Australia is not alone here. The regime they proposes is already in place in countries like Syria, Russia, and Iran (for the record, none of these countries have had much luck with it). There are two means by which authoritarian governments have attempted to restrict the use of secure technology: by network filtering and by technology mandates.

Australian governments have already shown that they believes they can order the nation's ISPs to block access to certain websites (again, for the record, this hasn't worked very well). The next step is to order Chinese-style filtering using deep packet inspection, to try and distinguish traffic and block forbidden programs. This is a formidable technical challenge. Intrinsic to core Internet protocols like IPv4/6, TCP and UDP is the potential to "tunnel" one protocol inside another. This makes the project of figuring out whether a given packet is on the white-list or the black-list transcendentally hard, especially if you want to minimise the number of "good" sessions you accidentally blackhole.

More ambitious is a mandate over which code operating systems in the 5 Eyes nations are allowed to execute. This is very hard. We do have, in Apple's Ios platform and various games consoles, a regime where a single company uses countermeasures to ensure that only software it has blessed can run on the devices it sells to us. These companies could, indeed, be compelled (by an act of Parliament) to block secure software. Even there, you'd have to contend with the fact that other states are unlikely to follow suit, and that means that anyone who bought her Iphone in Paris or Mexico could come to the 5 Eyes countries with all their secure software intact and send messages "we cannot read."

But there is the problem of more open platforms, like GNU/Linux variants, BSD and other unixes, Mac OS X, and all the non-mobile versions of Windows. All of these operating systems are already designed to allow users to execute any code they want to run. The commercial operators -- Apple and Microsoft -- might conceivably be compelled by Parliament to change their operating systems to block secure software in the future, but that doesn't do anything to stop people from using all the PCs now in existence to run code that the PM wants to ban.

More difficult is the world of free/open operating systems like GNU/Linux and BSD. These operating systems are the gold standard for servers, and widely used on desktop computers (especially by the engineers and administrators who run the nation's IT). There is no legal or technical mechanism by which code that is designed to be modified by its users can co-exist with a rule that says that code must treat its users as adversaries and seek to prevent them from running prohibited code.

This, then, is what the Five Eyes are proposing:

* All 5 Eyes citizens' communications must be easy for criminals, voyeurs and foreign spies to intercept

* Any firms within reach of a 5 Eyes government must be banned from producing secure software

* All major code repositories, such as Github and Sourceforge, must be blocked in the 5 Eyes

* Search engines must not answer queries about web-pages that carry secure software

* Virtually all academic security work in the 5 Eyes must cease -- security research must only take place in proprietary research environments where there is no onus to publish one's findings, such as industry R&D and the security services

* All packets in and out of 5 Eyes countries, and within those countries, must be subject to Chinese-style deep-packet inspection and any packets that appear to originate from secure software must be dropped

* Existing walled gardens (like Ios and games consoles) must be ordered to ban their users from installing secure software

* Anyone visiting a 5 Eyes country from abroad must have their smartphones held at the border until they leave

* Proprietary operating system vendors (Microsoft and Apple) must be ordered to redesign their operating systems as walled gardens that only allow users to run software from an app store, which will not sell or give secure software to Britons

* Free/open source operating systems -- that power the energy, banking, ecommerce, and infrastructure sectors -- must be banned outright

The Five Eyes officials will say that they doesn't want to do any of this. They'll say that they can implement weaker versions of it -- say, only blocking some "notorious" sites that carry secure software. But anything less than the programme above will have no material effect on the ability of criminals to carry on perfectly secret conversations that "we cannot read". If any commodity PC or jailbroken phone can run any of the world's most popular communications applications, then "bad guys" will just use them. Jailbreaking an OS isn't hard. Downloading an app isn't hard. Stopping people from running code they want to run is -- and what's more, it puts the every 5 Eyes nation -- individuals and industry -- in terrible jeopardy.

That’s a technical argument, and it’s a good one, but you don’t have to be a cryptographer to understand the second problem with back doors: the security services are really bad at overseeing their own behaviour.

Once these same people have a back door that gives them access to everything that encryption protects, from the digital locks on your home or office to the information needed to clean out your bank account or read all your email, there will be lots more people who’ll want to subvert the vast cohort that is authorised to use the back door, and the incentives for betraying our trust will be much more lavish than anything a tabloid reporter could afford.

If you want a preview of what a back door looks like, just look at the US Transportation Security Administration’s “master keys” for the locks on our luggage. Since 2003, the TSA has required all locked baggage travelling within, or transiting through, the USA to be equipped with Travelsentry locks, which have been designed to allow anyone with a widely held master key to open them.

What happened after Travelsentry went into effect? Stuff started going missing from bags. Lots and lots of stuff. A CNN investigation into thefts from bags checked in US airports found thousands of incidents of theft committed by TSA workers and baggage handlers. And though “aggressive investigation work” has cut back on theft at some airports, insider thieves are still operating with impunity throughout the country, even managing to smuggle stolen goods off the airfield in airports where all employees are searched on their way in and out of their work areas.

The US system is rigged to create a halo of buck-passing unaccountability. When my family picked up our bags from our Easter holiday in the US, we discovered that the TSA had smashed the locks off my nearly new, unlocked, Travelsentry-approved bag, taping it shut after confirming it had nothing dangerous in it, and leaving it “completely destroyed” in the words of the official BA damage report. British Airways has sensibly declared the damage to be not their problem, as they had nothing to do with destroying the bag. The TSA directed me to a form that generated an illiterate reply from a government subcontractor, sent from a do-not-reply email address, advising that “TSA is not liable for any damage to locks or bags that are required to be opened by force for security purposes” (the same note had an appendix warning me that I should treat this communication as confidential). I’ve yet to have any other communications from the TSA.

Making it possible for the state to open your locks in secret means that anyone who works for the state, or anyone who can bribe or coerce anyone who works for the state, can have the run of your life. Cryptographic locks don’t just protect our mundane communications: cryptography is the reason why thieves can’t impersonate your fob to your car’s keyless ignition system; it’s the reason you can bank online; and it’s the basis for all trust and security in the 21st century.

In her Dimbleby lecture, Martha Lane Fox recalled Aaron Swartz’s words: “It’s not OK not to understand the internet anymore.” That goes double for cryptography: any politician caught spouting off about back doors is unfit for office anywhere but Hogwarts, which is also the only educational institution whose computer science department believes in “golden keys” that only let the right sort of people break your encryption.

https://boingboing.net/2018/09/04/illegal-math.html

[aion-rsa]

The Third Day’s Dennis Kelly: ‘If people are telling you they’re good, you’ve got to be careful’

https://ift.tt/2ZpyH7G

The fascinations of Dennis Kelly are worth paying attention to. A decade ago, the playwright and screenwriter was kept up at night by the looming shadow of overpopulation and global resource scarcity. He channelled that concern into Channel 4’s Utopia, a global pandemic conspiracy thriller that in 2020, could hardly be more timely (serendipitously, Amazon releases the long-gestated US remake this month). 

Before that, Kelly’s plays were preoccupied with the suspicion of outsiders fostered by the so-called War on Terror, from which you might draw a straight line to Brexit and Trump. You could call his work a barometer for crisis, pointing audiences towards the thing we need to worry about next. 

Kelly’s latest project, he tells Den of Geek, was driven by a need to explore the reality-distorting effects of grief, and concern about growing isolationism. The Third Day starts as the story of Sam (Jude Law), a man sucked into the mysterious ways of a strange British island. It’s neither a horror nor an allegory, says Kelly, but it is packed with unsettling images and nightmarish twists. 

The Third Day was created in collaboration with Felix Barrett of the Punchdrunk theatre company. It starts with three-episode TV story Summer directed by Utopia’s Marc Munden, then becomes live immersive theatre event Autumn, both of which star Jude Law. It will conclude with Winter, a three-episode continuation starring Naomie Harris, due to air in October. The show really catches fire in episode two, promises Kelly. “That’s when it starts to go crazy. Episode three is just mental.” 

Kelly tells Den of Geek about the strange real-life island location of Osea, the commonality of pain, his impatience with the rules of genre, and why you should be suspicious of anyone who tries to tell you that they’re a good person.

You’ve said before that you write about things that are bothering you and that you don’t necessarily have an answer for. When you started writing The Third Day, what was bothering you?

So much, I’m so angry! 

Aren’t we all?!

It’s an angry world we live in! Often these things are a combination of personal and big stuff. In terms of the big stuff, I was bothered by isolationism. We started this probably about eight or nine years ago and at that time, I was very worried about isolationism, and it seems to have got worse since then. This is worldwide, not specifically to do with the UK, although obviously I’m writing from within that plane. 

The other thing on my mind was grief. I’d wanted to write about grief for a long time but to properly deal with it and the idea of how grief can do really strange things to your mind. We all experience it at some time in our lives. When I lost my dad – this is a long time ago now – but I remember that week thinking ‘I could get used to this. This is a strange place. It’s painful and it’s difficult, but there’s something warm about it and it answers all questions’. I think some people don’t ever leave grief. I wanted to write about that.

That’s an idea Emily Watson’s character repeats in The Third Day’s first episode, that pain can have warmth?

That’s where that came from, that line is something like ‘Most people are scared of pain, they don’t know how warm it can be.’ It’s true. 

It reminds me of your stage adaptation of Pinocchio having the idea that pain is the one element shared by all human beings, and only by experiencing that can Pinocchio become a real boy.

That’s right. 

Is that from the original story?

No, that was mine. In the Disney version, when you become true and good, you become a real boy and I just thought that is awful, what an awful message to be sending to kids. When you’re good and when you do what we tell you, then you can be real?! It’s a terrible message for kids and I wanted it to be about something more than that. Pain is… every one of us experiences it, it runs through all of our lives, but we don’t have to be terrified of it.

How did the island of Osea come to you as a location for The Third Day? 

That was Felix [Barrett, Punchdrunk artistic director and The Third Day co-creator]. Initially we thought we would set it in a town but we knew we wanted our character trapped and we realised that a town wasn’t going to work because it’s hard to get trapped in a town in the UK. It’s not like America where you might have one road in and one road out, and if you go out into the wilds, you’re going to die.  You can walk, if you really need to, between most places in the UK, even remote places in Scotland. So we felt like we needed something a lot more remote and then Felix found Osea. Because it’s only available by causeway, you can only get there twice a day. Once the tide comes in, you’re stuck, you’re staying there, you’re not getting back until the next day, 10 hours later. It just was perfect. 

What’s the atmosphere like on the island?

I really like it. It’s a strange thing, some people loved being on Osea. Paul Kaye, who’s in the second block of episodes, absolutely loved it, he couldn’t get enough of it. Naomie Harris, who’s also in the second block, just said she really hated being on the island! She found it really, really difficult. Personally, I really like the feeling of separation. There are no shops. Once you’re there, you’re there. The first time, I remember walking around with Felix and finding all these locations, these things that ended up in the show, just thinking, this is special, this place, but weird. 

Islands are special places, aren’t they? I grew up on the Isle of Wight and there’s a real sense of identity and a connection to tradition I’ve never quite found the equal of on the mainland.

All over the country there are all these weird places. That was something Felix was interested in, that there are all these slightly strange traditions that are still there. I was brought up a Catholic and Catholicism is incredibly Pagan. We eat pieces of someone’s body and it turns into their body while it’s in you. And you’ve got one God, but that God is in three parts. It’s so Pagan. In really Catholic countries – my ex-wife is Italian, so I used to spend a lot of time there – I remember going into churches in Naples and there’s so many bits of dead people in there, preserved, a bit of a dead saint’s toe or a dead saint’s finger or a dead saint’s heart. For me, that’s always there. The image that is over every Catholic is the Sacred Heart, which we used to have in our home, which is Jesus with his ribs torn open, it’s quite a brutal image. 

Have mythology and religion always been an interest of yours?

I have really conflicting views towards religion. I’m not a believer but sometimes I feel like I am because I want to be. I sometimes think I can believe in things that I know aren’t real, but it doesn’t matter as long as it makes me happy. Religion can do amazing things and it also can be incredibly manipulative and destructive in people’s lives and can allow people who are doing really very bad things to continue doing those bad things. These things are very complicated. Any simplistic statements about them are always doomed to make things worse.

What’s the significance of sobriety to The Third Day? How important is the temperance side of Osea to the story?

That came in because we realised that [former 19th century Osea owner] Frederick Nicholas Charrington went there and tried and create this sober community on the island. Osea had a treatment centre – I think Amy Winehouse went there at some point – which was closed down I think. It has a connection to it. 

When I’ve watched it back, I’m surprised at the amount of drunk characters there are in it. There are two or three. There are some plot twists that turn on so-and-so being drunk, so it does become important. Because I had struggles with alcohol and I’ve been sober now for nearly 19 years – 19 years, Jesus Christ, that’s like an entire person – I don’t know how much of that was conscious or whether that was bleeding in there. 

There’s a lot of talk in The Third Day about goodness. There’s a real insistence about the islanders being good people, about so and so being a good man, although their behaviour doesn’t seem to exemplify that?

I think if people are telling you they’re good, you’ve got to be careful! Watch out for them. People who say ‘I’m a really straight person, me’ are the most twisty-turny little fuckers! [Laughs] You’ve always got to be careful. The islanders talk a good game, but their actions show something quite different.

In Utopia, you presented us with this paradox about goodness, how for humans, love is this positive thing that connects us and inspires heroism, but it’s also what makes us do brutal things to other people to protect the ones we love. The same thing inspires both goodness and evil.

I think that’s so right. You’ve sort of nailed what I was trying to write about really. It’s an obsession of mine. You can look at the worst humans who do the most awful things and they think they’re doing it for the right reasons. Dictators don’t sit there thinking how evil they are, they think ‘This needs to be done for the greater good’, and then they do appalling things to huge amounts of people. 

A good example are paedophiles, weirdly. Watching paedophiles being interviewed, they seem to need to think that a kid is culpable in this, often. They totally aren’t, obviously. It’s crazy that they have to bend all of reality to still believe that they’re still a decent person inside. The same is true of violent men who have to believe that they had to beat their wife up, because ‘she pushed him to it’. We need to bend reality to be good, but also the desire to be good is incredibly powerful and it can lead us to do amazing, amazing things. It’s our brains that fuck it all up, because our brains pervert that desire. 

Read more

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Utopia series 2 episode 6 review

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Tell me about Jude Law’s character Sam in The Third Day, and the grief he’s experiencing.

Sam’s someone who’s gone through something really, really terrible and probably hasn’t processed it, perhaps because it might not be possible to process something that bad. It’s meant that he’s not at all sure of what’s going on, which makes him vulnerable but also makes him fall victim to the island and what it’s doing. The island is a very strange place. There is a belief that runs through it. They believe that Osea is the soul of the world and if you’re on Osea strange and important things can happen. The vulnerable part of Sam becomes attracted to that. 

Sam’s a strange character. I kind of wrote him for Jude. There are some really interesting places in Jude, a lot of versatility. His performance is extraordinary in this. I find him magnetic but at the same time I’m not entirely sure where I stand with him, which is really interesting, because Jude Law is not like that as a person at all, he’s really easy to get on with! 

Episode one has a combination of fairly banal elements, like garden centres and planning officers, alongside some very weird stuff like ritualistic murder and strange creatures snipping evil out of children. Would you say that The Third Day slips between those two worlds of reality and fantasy? 

I think they co-exist in our culture. The snipping is based on a tradition in a German village where people go around on a certain night of the year and look around to see if your house is clean and if it isn’t, they snip you open and put the dust in your belly. Obviously they don’t really snip you open, but it’s based on a real tradition. I remember explaining Bonfire Night to my Italian ex-wife and she was going ‘You burn him?!’ It’s so dark, that we actually burn a man who was burned all those years ago, we keep burning that guy. So I think we already live like that, we just don’t notice it because it’s ours. Catholic traditions, you don’t really notice them because they’re yours, but if you step back from it…

It was important as well that it didn’t feel as though you were stepping into the past. We didn’t want you to think this could be the 1960s, or this could be the 1860s, we didn’t want it to feel like it could be another world, we wanted it to feel very much like this world.

Do you like your audience to be on shifting sands in terms of whether we’re in reality or inside the perspective of a character who might be suffering from grief that distorts reality? 

I think so. Certainly in this. Not for arbitrary ‘I’m going to spook you’ reasons but partly because I think the world is a bit like that, you don’t really know where you stand with people. Drama tends to deal in absolutes. Characters are often written almost like they have a list of attributes and you’ve got to score them by that. Their morality may be 10 and their deviousness may be 2. That’s just not true, the world doesn’t work like that. We’re not Dungeons & Dragons characters. From day to day, we shift and change, because we’re constantly adapting to the world and I like the stuff I write to reflect that. 

What’s your approach to genre? Are there parts of The Third Day that don’t take place on terra firma, that are a fantasy inside Sam’s mind?

Possibly. I’ll be honest, I don’t really understand genre. I think I end up writing within genre a bit, but never really consciously. If someone says ‘what is a horror film?’ I don’t really know. I wrote Matilda The Musical and I didn’t really find out how to write a musical first because I wanted to write a story. So I don’t know what those rules are. I’m never really that interested in finding out what the rules are for writing things, I feel the same with genre. I wouldn’t be bothered about finding out what the rules were for writing a horror film or for writing a fantasy adventure or a sci-fi film, I think what I would do is just write the story.

Are you resistant to interpretation of your work?

Not at all. 

In episode one then, you see an island trying to protect its way of life and a suspicion of outsiders. At one point, Paddy Considine’s character mentions Somalian refugees… it made me think of the refugee boats landing on the Kent coast and the racist opposition to that.

I think that’s there. It’s not an allegory for anything. It’s not like you’d look at The Third Day and think ‘That’s the UK and Paddy represents this element and Jude represents another element’. I did want to prod at that though. I wanted to prod at that in Jude’s character, and it later does, that kind of fear of the other. I think that is in people and we’re really terrified of admitting to those things. If we can’t admit to them, then we can’t fight against them and turn them off. 

Time and again, the world shows us that isolationism is a really bad thing to resort to, in this time in the 21st century and the 20th century. Isolationism might not have been a bad thing in the 18th century, or in many of the centuries that preceded us when the world was a limitless place, but now the world is totally limited, we’re all over it, we know all of it, and we’re not getting off it, so isolating into small pockets is crazy, and the problems that we face are global problems.

You’ve said that a play can ask a question and not know the answer. Would you say the same for television?

I think it can now, because things have opened up and audiences are after much, much more complicated stories and are much braver and more sophisticated and they’re getting more sophisticated all the time. They want stuff that is genuinely challenging. 

Utopia asked a question that it didn’t have an answer for, which is: what do you do about population control? Obviously I wouldn’t advocate what the Network was saying in that but they would turn around and say ‘what do you want to do?’ You want to just sit here and do nothing? They were putting forward a solution that didn’t cause the deaths of millions and millions of people, and they would say if you don’t enact this solution, millions and millions of people will die anyway, because of the way we’re depleting resources on the planet. Utopia did ask a question that probably didn’t have an answer.

I always remember that scene you wrote in the Utopia series two finale, where a member of the Network puts forward a very rational argument for the moral rectitude of slitting a toddler’s throat. I mean, he had a point about overpopulation, and yet…

…and yet he’s totally wrong. I’ve got a one year old now. As far as I’m concerned, if it was a choice of my one year old or the world, I’d say ‘sorry world’. But it’s right as well, if you step back from everything we think and fear, he’s definitely right as well. That stuff is interesting to me because it does put us as an audience in a really difficult position.

Do you like to confront your audience?

I like to be confronted as an audience. I like things that are complicated and difficult, and I think audiences like that as well. I don’t want to preach to an audience, I’ve got no interest in doing that because I don’t know anything more than that audience, but what I like to do, as a member of an audience, is to think and have my notions challenged. 

Have you kept having those conversations with yourself about resource scarcity and overpopulation, since Utopia? Is that stuff still bothering you?

Sometimes. What I’ve found about writing is something really, really bothers me, and then I write about it and I move on. When I started writing, I wrote a lot of plays about the War on Terror and the process of writing about it means you get to a point where you don’t want to write it again. There’s something healthy and unhealthy in that – healthy in that the thing that is bothering you, you put into your work because that’s what you should be writing about, what matters most to you in the world, but also unhealthy that you go ‘oh that’s alright then, I’ll move on.’ 

I still am vexed about overpopulation and I still think it’s something that we’re not addressing. When I wrote Utopia, I remember thinking this will probably come out roughly around the time we hit seven billion. We’re approaching eight billion now, and we will go further. Then we’ve got another problem which is under-population because our population is growing older. There’s not an instant solve for these problems but I think it goes back to the idea of not being isolationist. The only way we can really think about these things is to think about the human race as one whole, as opposed to thinking about it as tiny, tiny pockets. 

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The Third Day: Summer starts on HBO on Monday the 14th of September and on Sky Atlantic and NOW TV on Tuesday the 15th of September.

The post The Third Day’s Dennis Kelly: ‘If people are telling you they’re good, you’ve got to be careful’ appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[stardust2003]

Madferit: The Novel - Chapter 10

           Shortly after our arrival in the US, we were informed we'd have to go back to the UK for a night. The boys were up for a couple BRIT Awards and were expected to come to the ceremony.

"D'ya reckon that means we've actually won summat?" Tony asked me.

"Of course it fuckin' does!" Noel barked. "Why the fuck would they bother bringin' us back, interruptin' the tour for nothin'? Stupid fuckin' idiot."

I rolled my eyes.

"I was actually thinkin' the same thing." Tony whispered to me. "It'd be well pointless a them to send us back for no reason. Who's the dumb one now?"

We both chuckled and surprisingly Noel paid us no mind.

"Least we get our own rooms this time." Liam said as we got dressed for the ceremony in our hotel room.

"Thought you said you don't mind sharing?" I asked I folded the collar of his shirt down.

"I don't but it'll be nice for us to have some privacy beyond just pullin' a fuckin' curtain. Even if it is just for one night."

I looked at him as I finished with his shirt.

He smirked. "After we win and that, we'll order champagne in, yeah? Have a bath together to celebrate."

"Right." I agreed. "Let's see if you actually win something first."

"There's no if." He shook his head. "We're gonna win it all. Every fuckin' thing we're up for."

I chuckled a little at his sureness. "Okay."

We met the others in the lobby with their dates. Bonehead had Kate, his girlfriend since no one could even remember, they'd been together so long. Guigsy had some stewardess he'd hit it off with when the band was in Japan. Tony also had a flight attendant he'd met a while back. And Noel had some blonde chick.

"Hi." She said with a smile. "I'm Meg."

She was one of those girls who looked perfect without much make-up. She had big boobs and straight teeth and probably as much self-confidence as that Paula Yates did. Apparently she and Noel had met a while back when he was dating her roommate.

All that aside, she seemed nice and we hit it off. I talked to her more than I talked to the other girls that night. Noel seemed to be in better spirits while having her on his arm. Maybe befriending her would help me get on his good side. I could only hope.

Liam was right about the band winning although they didn't go home with as many awards as he figured. They got Best Newcomer which was a pretty good start I thought. They'd already accomplished so much anyway and their future looked very bright.

The after party was like all the others had been: full of drink and drugs. It didn't take long for the boys to get started...with all their girls following suit.

"You don't like to have a good time?" Meg asked me.

"No. It's not that." I replied. "I just don't need a good time to have a good time." The idea of burning a hole through my septum just wasn't my bag.

"Fuckin' borin', she is." Noel chimed in as he wrapped his arm around Meg. "Definitely not one of us."

I nodded slightly not knowing what to say. He got away with his remark and he knew it – Liam was too preoccupied to pay attention.

But Tony wasn't.

"Name one person 'round this place who is." He cracked. "You wanna find someone to take the piss out of, all ya gotta do is look in the fuckin' mirror!"

Silence fell over the table. You did not smart off to the Chief...but look who's talkin'.

"What the fuck did you just say?" Noel asked him.

"You heard me." Tony replied. "You can take the piss outta any bloke here, includin' me, but I'll not be sat here lettin' ya do it to a girl. Especially not her."

"Got a thing for her or summat, eh To'?" Noel said with a sly grin. "Better not let Our Kid find out. Not that he'd mind too much."

I got up from the table and headed for the door.

"Addie!" Tony called after me. "Addie!"

But I was too pissed to go back. I held my tears off until I got to the room. I didn't know why Noel was being so mean to me. I know I deserved it for some of the things I said but still. It had been a couple months since then. Was this seriously how it was going to be?

I changed for bed and went to sleep shortly after I got in. I woke up a few hours later when Liam came sauntering in. He was obviously trying to be quiet which I appreciated but his drunken stumbling about the room pretty much kept him from doing so.

He crawled in next to me and passed the fuck out as soon as his head hit the pillows. We never had that champagne in the tub but I didn't mind.

It's not like I felt much like celebrating anyway.

Early the next morning, we were back on the plane to America, headed to the East Coast this time. Our stop in Cleveland was about a week away.

The boys had parted with all their dates after the ceremony, planning to bring them Stateside in a few days. I was the only girl to head back with them straight on, with the exception of Maggie.

The plane ride was silent with the boys sleeping off booze and goodness only knows what else. Liam rested his head on my shoulder while he dozed and the peacefulness of it all made me forget what happened the night before.

At least until Noel came down the aisle way.

I looked up at him but he didn't notice as he kept walking and eventually disappeared into the bathroom. Something told me to follow him, so I did.

"It's alright." I assured Liam as he whimpered while I tried to readjust his position. "Just lay your head back on the head rest."

He didn't say anything and just moved as I needed him to, to get him situated. Once that was taken care of, I got up and headed to the toilet.

Surprisingly, the door was unlocked. I chalked this up to Noel probably still being too stoned to realize. Regardless, that was his problem, not mine.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ!" He screamed as he turned around, with his hand over his crotch. "What the fuck?!"

"I wouldn't bother covering it." I said. "We both know it's not that impressive. That's obviously why Meg decided to stay in London. Find someone bigger."

"Fuck off!"

"You owe me an apology."

He furrowed his eyebrows. "The fuck do I owe you an apology for?" He asked.

"For taking the piss out of me last night." I replied. "Don't tell me you can't remember doing it."

"No. I remember. But I weren't takin' the piss. I was tellin' the truth."

I rolled my eyes and shook my head.

"Get lost." He pointed to the door. "I need a piss."

"Not 'til you apologize."

He breathed out. "Addie-"

I reached behind me and locked the door making him twist his face in even more anger. "What?" I said with a shrug. "You're the dumbass who forgot to lock the door."

"Get out!" His voice boomed.

"No."

"Get the fuck! Out!"

"No!"

He took another breath and adjusted his stance, clearly trying to remain calm. "Addie, I'm warnin' you. Get the fuck out of here now or you'll fuckin' regret it!"

"Prove it." I said firmly.

He growled as he slammed his fist on the counter of the sink.

"I'm not scared of you Noel. The others might be but I'm not. Apologize and I'll leave. I promise."

"Nothin' to apologize for." He shook his head.

"Oh, well nothin' to leave for then." I replied.

He rolled his eyes as we stared each other down.

After about a minute, he turned around to face the toilet and began using it.

I rolled my eyes shaking my head. "Such a dick." I muttered.

"You what?" He said raising his head, turning it to the side a bit.

"I said you were wrong about it being bigger than Liam's. A damn liar. That's what you are."

He held up his left hand and gave me the finger.

I chuckled quietly and I swear I heard him do the same.