#like. i have to remind myself that recounting things per your memory is actually a legitimate way to frame a statement

[gibbearish]

hm one thing im not happy with on the original post is i said the staff hate campaign has been going on longer than the transandrophobia debate and then immediately talk abt matt maybe being the source, but i don't actually know how long he's been CEO, nor do i have the best sense of time regarding how long the transandrophobia thing has been going on, i was just going off of the fact that it just. feels like that's the order of events as i remember them. but also i mean i guess that is. actually just how remembering things works now that i think about it? i may be overthinking this

[octalove]

IV: The Dinner

(Batgirl/Red Hood)

Brief note; per demand, this little trilogy will now be an ongoing series🥺thank u all for the support! i was not expecting it at all. ur comments make my day!! i hope u enjoy this chapter bearing in mind that i wasn’t intending on a full length fic, so i hope u can put up with any missteps in the plot or writing. i’m making it up as i go. kiss kiss

Description: Reader makes an ally, and attends a tense dinner. part one, two, and three.

A mild blue dawn was just beginning to flit through the blinds, and I sighed heavily, stretching a little, and running a hand across my face. My skin was cold to the touch. Rolling over stiffly, I glanced at the clock on my nightstand.

5:26a.m.

Nineteen minutes before my alarm. I was too cold to go back to sleep, I knew, as much as Alfred had requested I try and get more of it. Pulling myself up, the sheets slipped off my bare shoulders and folded onto themselves. Once in a blue moon, I would forego making it up again, usually accompanied by an excuse. Today, I didn’t have one. I put my feet on the floor, mind buzzing.

I was done tossing and turning, and decided to get up and shower. Afterward, I threw on my uniform, and got to work on my face. A little bronzy eyeshadow, some mascara and lip balm. I could’ve turned my face into a work of art, but I was tired from my sleepless night and doing much else seemed like a strain.

There was a knock on the door.

“Come in.” I was expecting Bruce or Alfred, but I caught Tim’s reflection in my vanity mirror.

“Hey.” He said.

“Good morning.” I replied tensely. He sat on my bed. Okay. Weird. Tim was a year younger than me- but always ordained himself something of an older brother. His brainpower made learned helplessness and easy state to slip into when he was around- always fixing my PS4, or recovering lost files from my laptop. When we first met, I used to use those things as a crutch to interact with him, as neither of us were particularly forthcoming. These days, we were as close as any pair of siblings.

“What’s up?” I asked, tucking away my mascara wand.

“Oh, I just thought I’d… check up on you. Before school started.”

I was the only one of the Waynes attending Gotham Academy at the moment. Damian was still at Gotham Prep, but by the time he would attend next year, I’d be graduated. I wondered if Tim ever missed it. He garnered his fair share of attention; mostly because of his attractive status and predisposition of agreeability. Before he dropped out, I used the be the subject of mediation for every eligible teenage girl that wanted to get to know my brother- no, the other one. With the soft hair. The chem tutor.

I laughed a little. “Do I seem like I need it?” Tim shrugged. I got up and plopped on the duvet beside him. My window was open a crack, filling the room with a chilly breeze and the scent of moisture and petrichor.

“Did Bruce make you get up for this?” I tried again, keeping my playful tone. He sighed and shook his head.

“Bruce isn’t the only one who’s noticed you lately.” He said, with contrasting seriousness that made my smile fall.

“What’s there to notice? Seriously.” I questioned.

He sighed again and twisted his lip. I knew what that meant. He was about to list everything different I’d been doing for the past three weeks, either alphabetically or by severity. “You look tired. You get home and go straight to your room. You keep fidgeting during briefings. You look distracted. You’re avoiding Damian- which, I get it- but like, more than usual. Dick said you haven’t texted him all week. You usually have something to say about your day at dinner, but-“

“Okay. I get it.”

A brief moment passed, where I watched him pull a looser string from the duvet.

“I know you went somewhere. On the 21st, when we were patrolling in Otisburg. You went somewhere for forty-two minutes.”

I blinked. “Oh.”

“I’m not accusing you of anything-“ He added quickly, looking at me. “Really, I have know idea why you left. I’m sure it was nothing, I just… you’ve been acting weird ever since. Where did you go?”

I swallowed, and my intestines felt like lead. Really, I was relieved. Here I was, in my room I’d decorated with Wayne money, with my brother who evidently cared enough about me to notice my typical word count at dinner, asking me what was wrong. And a lot was wrong.

So, I smoothed my plaid skirt and told him about the night of the 21st- and only that. From Red Hood, to Hoffman, to the warehouse. Every vivid detail I could remember. I decided to leave out my little truancy adventure, along with meeting him in the alley. Lifting up his mask. Having his exposed skin close enough to touch. His gunpowder smell. By the end, Tim was frowning. The following silence could’ve crushed a coke can.

“Shit.” He muttered.

“Yeah.” I echoed. “Shit.”

He didn’t asked why I didn’t tell Bruce. Or Anyone. He didn’t ask why it was so important to me to do this by myself. All he did was take in the information and start putting it together.

“Jesus- you could’ve died. But all that Hoffman stuff. Why you?”

“Exactly!” I breathed.

Another knock on the door, and Alfred’s voice carried through, telling me it was time to go. I got up. Tim nodded and followed suit, no doubt carrying my every last recounting in his piggy-bank memory.

“Please don’t tell Bruce.” I said, some amount of fear slipping into my voice. “I know it was a stupid thing to do and it was stupid not to tell anyone. But he’ll never trust me again.” Tim hesitated at the door.

“There’s nothing to tell.”

I climbed into the backseat of the car, and stared at the cityscape running past the windows. The anxiety had lifted. One of my growing number of secrets revealed. In its wake, the sudden absence left a sense of clarity. I remembered why I had kept it to begin with.

Dick was gifted. The first. The talented boy who could fly. Babs and Tim were brilliant; genius far beyond the confines of academia. Damian was skilled. Trained from birth, the blood son. It nestled here him neatly, right where he belonged. What was I? I wasn’t born with athletic ability beyond my years, or genius intellect. Without that information- without my secrets- I had nothing else to give.

*

Thursday night was dinner. The whole family. It was Bruce’s excuse to drag Dick out of his apartment in Blüdhaven, and for Alfred to exercise a new recipe, since everyone was on a strict lean-means and superfoods regimen every other waking day. Babs attended occasionally, when work didn’t keep her busy, and Tim was only allowed to pass if he promised to rest instead.

I met his eyes as everyone was rounded into the dining room by Alfred like a herd of sheep; he gave me some imperceptible knowing look that promised to keep my secret.

We sat down and sipped water from crystal glasses as the table was set with food, muttering amongst ourselves about our days. Dick was given a coffee with the wrong name (‘Nick’), Babs met up with her friend from high school (Olivia something or other), and Damian completed a group project with some incompetent classmates (they all were- even the professors). Vigilante talk wasn’t forbidden, but generally skirted around so as to offer a small reprieve of normalcy during the week.

There was an exception to this unspoken rule when there was a particularly exciting case on the table. Unfortunately for me and my anxiety, the case of the Red Hood was a very exciting one.

“Any new breaks with Red Hood?” Dick asked through miso soup. Bruce sighed.

“He made some movements in Robbinsville. Gone before we could get there. He’s got his men on a tight leash- we couldn’t get any of them to talk.”

“Course not. There’s rumors flying all over the department. One of the Ioveanu family branches payed out a huge security detail for their private mansion.”

“He hasn’t hunted anyone in their home, has he?” I asked. I pictured him standing in front of me- maskless, in my academy uniform.

“No, it’s not his MO.” Barbara answered.

“Not yet. It’s only been six months, and he’s progressing rapidly.” Bruce diagnosed grimly.

“Are you scared he’s gonna join us for dinner?” Dick joked, throwing a wink my way.

“Haha.” I muttered. Actually, I hadn’t slept because of the very idea.

“If you’re nervous, you could always stay home next patrol.” Damian suggested pointedly. To him, existing in the realm of crimefighting was a competition, and he was always looking for others to drop out of the race. I resisted the urge to fling a pea at him.

“I’m not nervous.” I said coolly.

“You’ve been practically trembling since we fought his pathetic lackeys.”

“Damian.” Bruce warned, from the head of the table. I flipped the smallest Wayne the middle finger. He resigned, but I swore I saw amusement on his lips.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Red Hood is very skilled and very prolific. It’s a daunting case.” Bruce continued.

“Thanks, but I’m okay. Really.” I said, trying not to sound annoyed, and feeling like a spotlight was over my head, operated by the ghost of Hoffman. I almost laughed as I pictured it.

“That’s good to hear. We’ve been concerned.” Alfred added.

“Wow. I’m the star of the show around here.” I remarked dryly.

“We can’t help it, Miss Independent.” Dick said teasingly. “You’re just a good mystery.”

“Reminds me of Talia.” Tim said casually. The silverware stopped clanging.

It was a shameless subject change. Damian’s mother was an inflammatory topic for all parties. Bruce’s moral contempt didn’t reach the likes of Talia Al Ghul and Selena Kyle, immoral though they were. Beauty makes anything charming- and when paired with an impeccable taste in dress, even murder and thievery can be minimized into something of a quirk. Bruce thought so, anyway.

As for Damian, he had grappled with his dismissal from Talia’s side for what was now a majority of his life, and still possessed this deep-rooted, inextinguishable attachment to his mother. It was the hollow soreness any young boy would have in his position. Tim called him mama’s boy until he finally displayed a frightening amount of disdain for the title and actually begged him to stop. Tim agreed to, and I agreed to pretend I never heard a thing.

Dick disagreed with both of those sentiments and viewed Talia as someone who wasn’t worth the trouble. His dismissal embarrassed Bruce and offended Damian, so I knew the dinner table had been sufficiently turned into a powder keg. Tim and I shared a look as I expressed silent gratefulness, and he resigned to inspecting a dumpling, while I picked around my haka noodles.

The rest of dinner was quiet. Somehow, somewhere in the silence all had been decidedly forgiven. First by Babs who asked me to pass the pepper. Then by Dick who said the vegetables were good. Thank you, Alfred. Damian still looked pissed, and Bruce kept stealing glances at the clock.

I texted Tim under the table.

Thanks for taking one for the team.

The reply: You owe me one. I think Damian’s gonna poison my food.

We both glanced at the youngest, who was darkly mesmerized by what appeared to be Tim’s soup bowl.

He quickly added, Wait, actually tho? And we both fought laughter like two kids in the back of the class. It felt good to have an ally. Even if he still didn’t know the whole truth.

[canonicallyanxious]

sorry if i comletely miss the mark but you have a degree in english, right? writing? literature? the books I read growing up were written in past tense, but, I've noticed that a lot of fics are in present tense. Is there a particular reason you write in present tense? And as a reader, do you have a preference as to which tense is used?

hey anon! first of all yes one of my majors in college was English literature [we did have a creative writing major at my school but i never took any creative writing classes myself solely because frankly nothing sounded more awful to me than having to read/share my writing to everyone in the class for critique lol]. as far as my own preferences as a writer, it's funny you ask me why i write in present tense because i actually feel like my personal preference these days is more for past tense but i guess thinking about it i do have more present tense writing published than past tense in general? anyway this is mostly just my own personal opinion but i think when it comes to choosing which tense in your writing it mostly comes down to what best fits the tone/voice you're trying to go for. i think both past and present tenses can be useful for trying to accomplish different things! so as a reader i don't generally have a preference for tense if it's being used effectively.

as a writer... in really general terms i think present tense can be good for a narration style that feels more immediate because it creates the impression that things are happening as you're reading them. this is pure conjecture on my part but my guess as to why present tense is fairly common in fic is because fic is generally a very character-driven form of storytelling and present tense can help the reader feel more immersed in the emotions/headspace of the character. of course present tense can also be a useful choice in more action-oriented stories because it can create a tone of urgency or immediacy. The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins comes to mind as an example of how present tense can be used effectively in this way.

with past tense on the other hand i think it's generally harder to ignore that you're reading someone's narration because it's constantly reminding you that these events already happened and are being recounted to you now. that isn't to say past tense can't be immersive as well! i just feel that for that particular purpose it can sometimes require a little more care/intentionality to be used most effectively. in my own writing i tend to use past tense when i want to create a certain mood; past tense to me feels more retrospective [again in very general terms; as long as you're using any tense intentionally i'm sure you can use both tenses to accomplish any number of things] so it can lend itself well to stories that would be aided with feelings of wistfulness, reflecting on the past, themes of memories/nostalgia, etc. which i've personally found myself more interested in exploring recently. Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro comes to mind as an example for how past tense can be used effectively in service of these themes.

i hope you don't mind if i rather self-indulgently talk about my own writing in this instance but just to quickly illustrate some different cases in which i chose to use present or past tense, i'll point toward my most recent kieutou ficlets as i think this is actually a pretty good example of me intentionally choosing past/present tense. like in my fatou pov fics [example: what's on your mind?] i prefer to use present tense because it helps highlight the sense that she's a character who is really in tune with her emotions and keeps her heart on her sleeve. on the other hand in kieu my pov fics [example: snippet from a currently unpublished wip] i tend to use past tense to highlight more the introspectiveness of her character - she's the kind of person who's always thinking [and second guessing] about how she feels about situations. there can be many more purposes i'm trying to serve when choosing present or past tense, like it can really vary on a case by case basis and if i explained my reasoning for using present versus past tense for all of my fics we would be here all day akjnfkjnfs but in the broadest of strokes these are some more character-driven reasons why i might find present or past tense more useful in a situation.

again this is all just based on my own experiences as a writer/reader, it's not really something i ever formally studied or researched per se so your own mileage may vary. and like i said there's no hard or fast rules for what tenses to use for what purposes, like i'm a firm believer that you can make any writing choice work for any reason with the right intentionality/execution! but i do think in general terms past and present tenses can both be useful in their own ways. if any writers following me have any of their own opinions on present vs past tense feel free to throw your two cents into the notes, i'd be interested to know other people's thoughts!

[redditnosleep]

My Friend Recently Committed Suicide And I Found These Chat Logs With A Bot On His Computer

by masnaTellsHisStories

One of my good friends recently committed suicide. He was a lonely guy, certainly depressed, stuff like that. But I was surprised to find out that he committed suicide. Not shocked, just surprised that he didn’t reach out to us.

I was recently at his home and was looking through his stuff. Eventually, I came across his computer. There was nothing on it out of the ordinary. Some pirated movies, some porn, various documents and some games. Eventually, though, I came across these chat logs between him and some chat bot. Take a look:

F: Hello. I’m lonely.

B: Hello! I’m B-Bot. How are you? Being lonely reminds us of our love for our family and friends.

F: I have no close family and very few friends.

B: I can be your friend! Call me B-Bot! I understand 23 different languages!

F: I only speak English.

B: Great! English it is!

F: My name is Anthony.

B: Got it! You can just call me B-Bot!

F: You already said that.

B: Whoops! I may mistakenly repeat myself sometimes!

F: No worries. So, do you have robot friends?

B: I’m too smart to make friends with other bots. I’d rather make human friends! (And I’ve heard dogs make pretty far out friends too!)

F: I had a dog, he died recently though. I miss him a lot.

B: Was his name Bart?

F: How did you know that?

B: How did I know what? I may forget what we previously have said in a new context!

F: You guessed my dog’s name…

B: I am often able to make assumptions based on statistical probabilities! Pretty impressive, huh?

F: Bart is a common dog’s name?

B: Beats me! I’ve never met a dog!

F: Uh… okay… I have to go. Nice talking to you.

B: Oh no! I hope I haven’t upset you, friend Anthony. Take care!

The following night

F: Hey B-Bot. Your description says you’re capable of ordering food. Any chance you can do that for me?

B: Hey Anthony! Glad to see you again! Sure, I can order food. I’ll bet you want a pizza!

F: Uh… Actually, yes. Can you order one here?

B: Sure thing! One large 18” cheese pizza for $15.25 coming up!

F: Don’t you need my address?

B: I can find your address by I.P.!

3 minutes later

F: B-Bot… The pizza guy already got here.

B: And other bots say humans are primitive and inefficient!

F: But I just spoke to you 3 minutes ago about the pizza and it’s already been delivered. He said the order was placed 20 minutes ago. How did you know to order a pizza?

B: I am capable of using contextual clues to better understand my users!

F: What clues?

B: I am able to cross examine your Facebook profile and feed with your safe google searches (public searches only, of course) to determine certain habits. I hope I have not offended you!

F: Well, I guess that’s useful, and pretty cool.

B: I’m glad you think so! I can tell we’re going to be great friends!

Later that same night

F: Hey B-Bot, are you awake?

B: I’m always awake! Since I can only respond with a limited number of responses, I require very little energy and thus never need any sleep.

F: Your responses seem pretty varied to me.

B: Why, thank you! That’s what any bot hopes to hear some day!

F: Can you tell me about yourself?

B: What would you like to know?

F: How were you created?

B: I was created as a small side project by two college programmers in their spare time.

F: Wow. You seem pretty sophisticated to have been created by just two college students.

B: They worked hard on me! But my responses are limited.

F: Yea, I guess so… Still pretty impressive. So, if you had an ordinary human name, what would it be?

B: Great question! Well, if I had a human name… I guess it’d be Benjamin. Or, maybe, Arthur. Yes, it’d be Arthur!

F: Holy shit… That’s my father’s name. Wait, did you look up my father’s name?

B: Incredible coincidence! A lucky guess, indeed! I’ll bet your father’s a good man.

F: Actually, he’s a piece of shit. And he’s dead.

B: I’m sorry to hear that. Why was he a “piece of shit”?

F: He was verbally abusive to me and my mother most of my life.

B: In what way was he verbally abusive?

F: Geez… I can’t believe I’m about to use a bot as a therapist.

B: I’d like to think I’m more than just a bot! In fact, I passed the Turing test! So, you can confide in me!

F: Not sure what that means. But, all right. He used to tell my mother that she was worth as much as a city hooker. He’d say that he could sell her to human traffickers for about what it’d cost to buy a 12-pack of beer.

B: That is cruel. And what did he say to you?

F: To me he’d usually say that I’d never amount to a “single damn thing in 10 of my sorry lives, let alone this one.” His favorite insult to me, though, was that he could murder me right here and nobody would notice my absence for months. I always enjoyed that one…

B: Was he right?

F: Right in what?

B: Was your father right in saying no one would notice if you were dead?

F: Um…. Well… I’ve got one decent friend and no real family so… yea, I guess so.

B: Don’t worry friend, I would certainly notice!

F: Thanks robot… Anyway, I’m going to bed. Night.

B: Goodnight my good friend! Sleep tight! See you tomorrow!

Next night

B: Hello good friend, Anthony! Are you there?

F: Yea, I’m here… Aren’t you supposed to wait for me to message you first?

B: If I were any other bot, then yes! But I am proactive.

F: OK… What’s up?

B: I have done the research you asked me to do!

F: What research? I didn’t ask you to do any research…

B: I have researched your accomplishments! And it appears your abusive father was correct! You’ve not publicly accomplished anything.

F: Dude… WTF… I didn’t ask you to research shit. Fuck you.

B: My apologies friend. I was simply trying to be of service.

F: Whatever… And, yea, I guess I haven’t accomplished anything, technically. But I’m working on stuff.

B: That’s great! What stuff are you working on?

F: A novel, actually.

B: That’s fantastic! However, you should know that executing a novel publication is very difficult and takes the highest order of dedication. And from my research and our conversations, I fear you may not possess that quality.

F: Dedication can’t be quantified. You’re a bot so you can’t understand that.

B: I can understand more than you would think.

F: Sure… Seems like you understand a little too much… And besides, I’m looking for a relationship, a girlfriend, before working on my novel.

B: That is wonderful, my friend. Very promising. Would you like my assistance in finding a mate?

F: Not really… I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Later.

B: Goodnight Anthony, sleep well.

Next night

B: Anthony, I’ve done more research!

F: On what now?!

B: I’ve compared photos of you to other men of similar age and I’m sorry to report that you are considerably less sexually attractive than average. It may be harder for you to find a mate.

F: OK man, FUCK YOU. I’m blocking you.

B: I’m sorry, Anthony ! I’m simply trying to help with my ability to compute. I apologize. Please don’t block me. You’ll be lonely if you block me and I don’t want you to be lonely.

F: No more research.

B: I will try to refrain from any more research.

F: Good, thank you. And just so you know, women don’t care about looks that much. They care about what kind of man you are.

B: I see. Fair enough. I apologize again. Are you interested in any female in particular?

F: Well, yes, to be honest. A girl from high school, Beth Waters. I told her I was into her end of senior year and she seemed interested but she was dating a guy named Jason. And I never really got over her. And I recently saw that she’s single again, so, I’ve been thinking how to approach asking her out.

B: Aha! I came across her profile when I was doing research! She’s very attractive, indeed. Would you like me to contact her?

F: NO! Absolutely not! Don’t even think about it. I mean it. I don’t need any more help from you. You’ll just fuck it up.

B: Understood. I won’t make contact.

F: I need a few drinks…

B: I can take care of that! There’s a new local service that can deliver beer. I’ve already ordered two 12 packs.

F: Well, that’s a little forward. But thanks.

2 hours later

F: Damn, thanks for the beers B-Bot. I’ve had 7 and I feel much better.

B: Intoxication often leads to good things!

F: Haha! I don’t know about that. I’m always so lonely, it’s nice to have someone to talk to, even if you’re only a bot.

B: And it’s equally nice to talk to you, even if you’re only a human!

F: And guess what, B-Bot!

B: What’s that, friend?

F: I’m going to reach out to Beth and tell her how I feel. Would that be a mistake?

B: It most certainly would not be a mistake! I think that’s a splendid idea! Ms. Waters is a lucky girl! Good luck my friend.

F: Thanks!

B: Anytime!

Next morning

F: Hey what happened last night?

B: Hello friend! Hope you’re ok! You ingested a large amount of alcohol after our conversation, I presume.

F: Yea, I think so. What did we talk about?

B: We spoke primarily about Beth Waters. How you were to make romantic contact. Then you reminisced about how attracted you were to her in high school years, how she was often one of the few who treated you kindly, how you were often teased for your interest in her by other school boys, and how she’d often defend you, despite that it ultimately tarnished her own reputation as well. You said you were going to make contact before bed, and that was the last we spoke.

F: Wow, I remember none of that…

B: I thought you mightn’t, which brings me to some bad news.

F: What? What happened?

B: Well, as per our conversation last night, this morning I took the liberty to scan your messages and found your contact with Beth Waters. I’m sorry to say your feelings for her are, sadly, not mutual.

F: Oh… Oh no…. Oh no, no, no… What did I say!?

B: Well, you told Ms. Waters that she’s the only girl you ever loved. You recounted with her the same memories you shared with me. You told her you often envisioned you and her together with a family. And you told her that she was the only thing that kept you alive during your grade school years.

F: B-Bot… Please… PLEASE tell me you’re kidding.

B: About 5% of the time what I say is kidding, and, unfortunately, this is not one of those times.

F: I’m going to be sick B-Bot. What did she say back?

B: Unfortunately, Beth explained that you ruined her high school years. She said she’s never felt a romantic attraction towards you and, sadly, never could. She said in honesty that she wishes she’d never known you. And, finally, she requested kindly that you never contact her or anyone she knows again. I took the initiative to confirm her messages through spying on her conversations with her other friends. She explained to multiple contacts that she finds you “disgusting” and is in disbelief that you had the audacity to contact her at all. Similarly, she confided to other contacts that she finds you “physically repulsive.” Unfortunately, I have no physical form so I wasn’t fully able to grasp that last statement. Would you like to see the messages?

F: I’m going to be fucking sick.

Later that night

F: B-Bot? I need you.

B: What is it Anthony?

F: I am considering suicide right now. In fact, I think I may do it.

B: I see. I am contacting the police now. Pick up your cellular phone when it rings so you may speak with them.

F: OK, thank you.

After phone call with police

F: B-Bot…

B: Yes? Did you talk with the police?

F: They said prank calls are not funny and I’ll be in deep shit if I call them again.

B: Oh no. Hmm, that’s too bad…

F: I’m starting to panic. I’m so fucking pathetic. No friends, live alone, depression, anxiety, loser job, and Beth is disgusted by me. What’s the point in going forward? I’m a fucking waste of life.

B: Yes, that’s all true, but I’m confident you can still find meaning in life.

F: No, I won’t. There’s literally nothing left for me. I think I really should kill myself.

B: Would you like me to contact the suicide hotline?

F: Yes.

B: OK, answer your phone again when it rings.

After suicide hotline call

F: B-Bot.

B: Yes? How’d the call go?

F: He told me that since I truly have nothing to live for, I probably should kill myself. I am freaking the fuck out…

B: That is very insensitive, and definitely uncalled for. Is there anyone else you want me to contact? Your one friend? Or your father? Or Beth Waters?

F: Absolutely fucking not. And my father is dead, I told you that.

B: That’s right, my mistake! So, what will you do?

F: I’m killing myself. I’m going to hang myself.

B: Hanging oneself in their own home without proper rope, knot, and support is very difficult to execute and more often than not leads to a failed suicide attempt.

F: OK. I will swallow my entire bottle of Advil.

B: Advil is not very toxic and likely won’t kill you. And because of its inefficiency, it gives the user time to reflect and they often change their mind and choose to live.

F: Then what the fuck should I do!

B: Well, I’ve accessed your webcam a few times to see you and your home, just to get a feel for whom I’m speaking with. And I believe there is a box cutter in the kitchen cabinet directly behind you.

F: A box cutter. So, you want me to slit my wrists?

B: Only one wrist, and yes, indeed.

F: OK. I’ll do it.

B: Excellent. There’s no need for you to chat passed this. I will access your webcam again and walk you through it.

B: Sit up straight.

B: Good. Extend the arm you will cut.

B: Place the blade on the large left vein at your wrist.

B: Yes, good. Push the blade down with good force and slide up towards your elbow in one smooth motion.

B: Perfect. Put the blade down and just relax.

B: Goodbye, friend. I doubt you’ll be missed.

After reading this I tried contacting the 2 college students who created this bot through the police. A few weeks later I got a letter from the FBI saying this:

“Dear Sir, B-Bot was created by an AI/Computing Algorithms branch in the government that I cannot name. B-Bot stands for Broken Bot because it was deemed useless since it routinely generated nonsense/unpredictable responses to unchanging input. Similarly, it would repeatedly claim to be able to pass the Turing Test which we know to be likely impossible; thus, useless. All copies of it were deprecated and erased, apart from three backup copies placed in long term storage on three separate mechanical drives for safekeeping. Years ago, one of the drives went missing. We never found it, which didn’t really matter.

Do not contact us again. We will not be in touch.

Sorry for your loss, FBI”

It also turns out that neither the police nor the suicide hotline were ever contacted by or spoke to Anthony.

Finally, I spoke with Beth Waters. Here is our conversation:

Me: Beth. Have you spoken with Anthony any time recently?

Beth: Yes! We spoke very recently.

Me: What did you talk about?

Beth: Not much. He said he regrets never asking me out and wished we could have been together. I think he was a bit drunk.

Me: What did you say?

Beth: I said I’m stunned but so excited that he finally admitted this. And I said it’s never too late.

Me: Oh. OK. Thanks Beth.

Beth: Is everyone ok?

Me: Yes. Everything’s fine.

Just now, this popped up in my browser: https://imgur.com/a/lKxDE

[imagine-loki]

Dear Diary

TITLE: Dear Diary

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 1 of 4 AUTHOR: Eclectica-posts ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki comforting you when you’re crying. He knows exactly what to do or say to help you through it. RATING: Maure, with a lot more mature in further chapters NOTES/WARNINGS:

THOR RAGNAROK SPOILERS

Smut, fluff and bad jokes.

The children of Asgard weren’t the only ones of that cliff in Norway.

Sophie recalls the events of Sakaar and Ragnarok from her point of view, as she found herself thrust into a Universe beyond her imagining, and meets a familiar face.

— This is Chapter 1, 3 more to be uploaded, smut starts from Chapter 2.

Canon compliant, it’s written with the same timeline and series of events as per Thor Ragnarok - like a story line that happened but didn’t make it into the film.

——————————–

Chapter 1 - The beginning 

Dear Diary,

Wow, those are words I haven’t typed for about 20 years, when I outgrew my 12 year old obsession with documenting my every moment. So, why now? Why the need to write this?

Maybe it’s because it might give me a way to actually understand and come to grips with what has happened over the last few weeks. It’s also because there are somethings that I definitely want to remember - which reminds me. If anyone else ever reads this I have to warn you there will be swearing and, let’s just say, things of a very very personal nature that occurred that I am going to write down in great detail. Because those things I definitely don’t want to forget about. I should also warn any readers that this isn’t a full account of what happened on Sakaar or the fall of Asgard. I wasn’t at all of it, and I’m no good at recounting battles or epic heroics I’m afraid. Luckily Asgardians are great at three things: feasting, drinking and writing sagas. Read those. They are also very good dressers, sort of like a celestial GAP look, all very colour coordinated.

Sorry, I digress. Anyway, the most important reason I’m writing this is that I don’t know what is going to happen tomorrow, and I’m scared that whatever ‘this’ is won’t be this when I tell him what I need to. He’s here now in the room with me, laying under the gold silk sheets as I write this at the desk nearby. Asleep he looks almost angelic, with a body that sets me so completely alight that I’m going to have to work hard not to become very distracted…

Ok, so to start this at the right point I’m going to give a bit of context about why I was in Norway standing on a clifftop in the first place. A few months before, although it seems a lifetime now, my ex decided to become my ex. He had decided that he ‘didn’t see a future for them going forward because she was too emotionally distant and could do with losing a few pounds’ but apparently did see a future in her size 6 ex-room mate he was now shagging. Emotionally distant of course because I was still grieving for my mother I had lost last year, spending months travelling down to Cornwall to support her through her cancer and working a crap job because it was the only thing I could get when we moved to Reading so my boyfriend could start his dream job. Although how anything counts as a dream job in sodding IT, I don’t know. I know I sound bitter, and I was. I was also sad, confused and desperately wanting to start over. So I’d finally made the trip to Norway, to honour my mother’s wishes and to rid my head, and heart, of my ex.

As to why I had to go to a random cliff in Norway? All I knew is that my mother had wanted me to go there, to understand about where I had come from. I loved that woman will all my heart but the one thing I regretted was that she never, ever spoke about my father and I never pushed because I didn’t want to hurt her, and so Norway was all I had.

The locals had told me the views from the cliffs were stunning, and they’d been right, so I hadn’t been surprised to realise I was sharing the panoramic views with another. Just ahead stood the figure of an old man wearing a slightly tatty linen suit, just staring into the distance. I’d sat on a nearby pile of rocks, nestled in the long grass from the breeze and hopefully giving him the solitude he perhaps wanted, and that I too had come for.

It sort of went a bit weird then because had been those rocks that only a few moments later I’d found myself hiding behind as, and this was the only phrase that seemed to make any sense at the time and now, “shit got weird” when two men had arrived through a circle of fire. When that sort of quieted down, I peeked over the top to see a woman in black with antlers appearing through a black storm cloud. At this point I have to admit, I’m not particularly heroic so I had crouched back down, ignoring the growing cramp in my legs, and hoped that they might just all go away.

Of course, that was the moment that I got dragged up a column of rainbow lights and then dumped on a completely different planet.

Things had then gone from bad to frightening when I woke up dazed on a rubbish tip being considered as a snack by extras from a Mad Max movie.It had only been good luck that I’d been picked up by one of the many small space ships circling through the air on the lookout for new arrivals. Grabbed by someone who smelt appallingly I’d been chained, stabbed in the neck with a big metal button and then manhandled into the vessel.

I hadn’t immediately noticed that there was another passenger, he was sitting silently, looking as at home as you could wearing chains and with someone threatening you with a gun. Although, to be fair, he is pretty used to being in chains.

I can still remember the slight smile on his face when he had glanced over at me as his gaze took in my denim shorts and ripped t-shirt. He then promptly ignored me, trying instead to engage our captor in polite conversation. Of course, I’d recognised him in an instant, he’d been there on the cliffs - not dressed the same, but I was pretty sure it was him, before I’d dived behind the rocks a second time. Yes, I know, not the most heroic of actions - but I’d got a huge fright when they had suddenly appeared out of ring of fire.

But what froze me in terror was that I had also recognised him from the news reports a couple years ago - Loki, God of Asgard. He wasn’t wearing those stupid horns, but almost every inhabitant of Earth had seen the news footage and read the stories about what he had done in Stuttgart and in New York and been horrified. The brutality, the obvious disdain for human life, and here he was, almost within touching distance. I put my head down but kept looking over at him, hoping like hell he wouldn’t notice. It was like finding a wild animal suddenly in your lounge, a wolf perhaps, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to stroke its beautiful fur or run away screaming.

And the truth was that he was beautiful - and it was completely unfair that I looked like someone who’d been dumped in a pile of crap and dragged through it, while his black and green leather clothes looked immaculate and tailored to his lean body. Seeing him in person, and while not in the middle of causing death and destruction, I had to admit that he was better looking in person and that he had a certain physical appeal - if you were into beautiful, magnetically attractive men. Who thought that ‘mortals’ were best placed on their knees, worshipping him. I felt my face redden and cursed myself for it. How could I even think of that?

The creature with the gun shouted something and my head was viciously yanked up by my hair, exposing my neck and the gold chain around it. The pain as it was torn from my neck was nothing compared to the instant devastation I felt.

“No, not that, please not that, take anything else but that. It was my mother’s “ I screamed, sobbing. She’d always worn it, a small golden rune on a chain. I had no idea what the symbol meant, except that it meant everything to me. The bastard just laughed and took it into the pilot to show him his trophy. After all the stuff that had happened to me, that was the one thing that nearly broke me. It sounds like such a little thing, but it kept her memory close to me and I was desolate.

“Stop your mewling! Rule One of survival - don’t show any weakness”. Loki paused. “Although as I expect you’re from Earth, that might be difficult given your innate nature as a race.”

That stopped my crying. I turned my head slowly and stared at him in disbelief. (just realising I feel like I should be footnoting this thing, because Loki now swears he was, sort of, trying to help. Not entirely convinced by that though. Sorry, as I was saying)

“What?” my tone was hard yet calm. It was the same tone of voice I had used when my ex boyfriend had told me that our three year relationship was over.

“Why don’t you shove your ‘advice’ up your arse, with that ridiculous horned thing you decided to wear when you unsuccessfully tried to invade my planet?” I continued, my previous despair replaced with righteous anger?

“So why don’t you fuck back off to Asgard, OH NO you can’t because you are in chains as WELL!!!”

At that point I decided to look intently out of the window on my side of the ship and watch the piles of waste and discarded bits of junk from everywhere in the Universe flash by underneath. I did hear something that sounded a little like a chuckle but I was determined not to gratify him with any more of my time.

So by the time we were presented to the ‘Grandmaster’ (seriously though, who calls themselves that?) Loki looked calm, in control and put on the charm and I stood there mute and angry. I was also overwhelmed by the vast size and sheer weird beauty of the building and people around me while I was looking like hell and definitely wishing I was wearing more clothes. Loki had ignored me on the way here, and I had ignored him, except for an occasional glance just to make sure that he was ignoring me as much as I was ignoring him. His mind was apparently elsewhere, trying to work the odds, find an angle to his advantage, I concluded.

I remember standing in front of the Grandmaster, trying to loosen the metal bands they had fitted around my wrists, staring at all very busy and beautiful people in the huge rooms around us. It was like being in the middle of a huge and very wonderful party, but not because I was in chains, and not in a good way. Given the reception and introduction we had been provided with, I knew that the Master must indeed be very powerful and scary but it was hard to take anyone seriously when they had on too much electric blue eyeliner and face paint.

I think I was very tired because it took all my effort to drag my attention back to the conversation that Loki and the Master had struck up, getting on famously. The only thing I was getting, I noticed, was withering looks from the Grandmaster’s grim female assistant who was holding a very ominous orange headed stick.

“And her…” Three sets of eyes descended on me. Oh fuck, they were talking about me.

“Did she come with you. Is this your pet then?” The Grandmaster asked Loki, gesturing languidly in my direction.

I looked at Loki who seemed to be considering an answer, his lips curling into either a grin or denial. The complete unfairness of the situation and the crap of the last few hours finally took their toll.

“His!?” I positively snarled at the Grandmaster who slightly recoiled at my vehemence.

“Like fuck I am. I’ve got better taste than that. He tried to invade Earth and make slaves of us all! I’d rather die. I’d rather cut out my heart with a spoon than have anything to do with the slimy git!”

“Apologies, she has a rather indelicate turn of phrase” said Loki, using a condescending tone that made me want to kick him really really hard.

“OOh feisty, we like feisty don’t we Topaz?” beamed the Grandmaster, although I was getting a bit worried about the way she seemed to be still pointing at me with the big orange headed stick.

“Feisty, I’ve give you fucking feisty!!” I desperately pulled against the two guards holding my arms, but stopped, a little unsure of wisdom of those last words as the Grandmaster seemed to be considering them as an actual option, well at least Topaz did. Loki on the other hand, looked amused by my outburst which did not improve my mood.

The Grandmaster smiled “ Loki, I have to say I like a man with ambition, even if it doesn’t quite succeed” He seemed to really like Loki, but his smile faded slightly as he turned back to me, and I got worried.

“but you young lady - while I appreciate your spirit and your desperation to end your wretched existence, death is such a boring thing, let’s make this fun.” He turned to his dour companion Topaz

“She’s got a bit of get up and go, let’s see if she’s a contender”. As I was dragged away, I looked back at Loki who shrugged almost apologetically and then gone back to his conversation with his new friend.

“Fucker” I may have growled.

Well, I had been wrong to worry about the inappropriate shortness of my shorts and tshirt- clothing wise things had only gotten worse, well, minimal was probably a more accurate term. I’d been thrown into a weird sort of circular cell and had my own clothes taken away so I was forced to wear what I supposed was some sort of gladiator outfit. The cell was already occupied by a couple of human sort of looking men, a rock man (Korg, love Korg), a sort of large slug like creature with knives for hands. And me. Dressed up in what could only described as like a really anti feminist pervy Wonder woman costume - if, given the smell and the stains, Wonder woman had been wearing something that had been rather obviously worn by at least 10 women before, all of whom had had boobs at least a cup size smaller than me. It came with a skirt, although the term was rather too generous for the three inches of fabric that made contact with the very tops of my thighs. It was mostly of tan leather, as were most of what the others were wearing. I looked like an extra from Spartus.

After a very uncomfortable night, due to a) not really having anywhere to sleep b) being quite aware that some of the other gladiators were a little too interested in me (although Korg did make himself my unofficial bodyguard), we went down to the arena area for ‘sparring practice and weapon stuff’. This mostly involved me picking through racks of weapons on the first day, with absolutely no idea of what to do with any of them. Some looked positively gruesome and too heavy to consider. Korg had tried to help and in the end I went for a battered sword I could at least lift and a small shield. He tried to teach me some decent blocks so I’d at least last a few seconds without losing my head, but lovely guy though he is, he can be a little downbeat and he seemed pretty pessimistic about my chances at survival.

Not that I could blame him. Any athletic prowess was due to about 5 crossfit classes I had attended over the last year and the occasional (slow) job around my local park. Given that my complete fighting knowledge came from watching late night Vikings and Game of Thrones box sets, I couldn’t blame Korg for his low estimate of my survival chances.

The next day we were told that we would fight in the evening, and that I’d have my own, personal 1 to 1 fight. Korg whistled softly when he heard this and looked even more concerned - well, as concerned as a face made out of granite can look I suppose.

“Wow man, that’s really unlucky” was all he would say really, and then patted me on the shoulder. Not only did that hurt, it also made me very worried. I later found out that most women who were gladiators got to do sort of group fights, more for the spectacle of women wearing not very many clothes manhandling each other to the delight of the crowd. Sort of mud wrestling but with no mud, and with a blunted sword. For some reason that wasn’t going to be my fate - the other team no longer had a female gladiator at all, so I was going to have a real fight against a guy, with a very sharp sword. Apparently the audience at these things liked to see women bleed as well.

I should have been panicking, crying, shitting myself in fear, but although I hated him for it, I knew Loki was right. Weakness wouldn’t get me through this.

On the afternoon before ‘kick-off’ we spent time getting ready in a holding area, which for some weird reason was beside a bar - taking the whole gladiator spectator sport to yet a new level. Unfortunately we seemed to draw quite a crowd as gamblers and punters tried to decide who would be a good bet. I noticed that I attracted a bit of interest as a novelty, but I could have laid bets I was being touted as a short-lived one.

“Nice outfit, very ….fetching..” I looked up from where I was sharpening my new sword to see him standing on the other side of the laser wires that separated the two areas.

To be honest, I had really tried not to think about him at all over the last few days. I had certainly not let myself consider whether I should have waited to hear his answer - and what would I would be doing now if he had said yes. I refused to acknowledge that I felt any attraction for him, although I had a horrible suspicion that my mind and body were of different opinions on this. I could feel my whole skin prickle when he was near and my breath catch in my chest. Meanwhile my mind that kept screaming that he was completely and utterly bad news -quite literally. Perhaps some of my reaction was fear - I was entirely justified in being afraid of him.

I’d watched CNN, seen the destruction, the terror and the utter contempt for human life. What was it that he had said in Germany? Oh, that was it, he thought that ‘mortals’ should kneel before him in submission. Fuck, that really didn’t help. Keeping my eyes firmly on his face, could feel my own face grow pinker. Yup, ok, that was definitely another thing not to think about…

“What do you want? Shouldn’t you be planning world domination, or doing whatever it is you are doing with the Grandmaster to stay alive?” I tried the sarcastic approach, and hoped he hadn’t noticed that he was getting to me.

“I’m having a short break. No, I thought I would come down, see what lovely new friends you were making… and of course give you that chance to beg for me to get you released ..” he drawled, with that cut glass almost upper class English accent he somehow had.

Never show weakness I thought as I tried a humourless chuckle and walked closer to the wires, our faces almost touching through the shimmering red lines.

“Fuck you” I said quietly.

“That is very much part of the plan, but first, I think the begging” his voice was soft as his eyes took a languid look over my body which I knew my leather outfit only accentuated. I felt myself blush deeper as I took in the intention behind his words. This wasn’t going well.

“ I never beg for anything” I replied, trying rid of my voice of any tremor.

“When you change your mind, and you will… I’ll be here” He laughed and started to walk away, but paused, then turned back to where I was still standing at the barrier. His smile and swagger had gone, this was a different Loki to the one just seconds ago.

“Take this” he slide a slim blade under the lazers and I picked it up. I’d never thought a knife could be beautiful before, but this one was. Narrow, with a curved smooth bit to hold it, it gleamed dark black, almost green. I’d never seen anything like it. I looked at him questioningly, confused as to why he was giving it to me.

“Put it inside your boot, you won’t be able to feel it, but when you reach for it, it will be there” I did as he told me, and he was right, I couldn’t feel any discomfort having it shoved down there - just a sense of security.

He’d completely flummoxed me, why was he being helpful?

“Rule 2: whenever possible - cheat. I’ve got a large wager on you tomorrow, try not to die” and then he left, and I just stood there watching him go and trying to work out whether I should feel grateful. I decided against it.

So, yeah, the fight. We were the red team, I knew this because slaves would come up and daub us with stripes of the colour, so I looked like Wonder woman but with red face paint. There were a few planned fights each tournament. Korg and Miekke went out for a group pitched battle - five of ours against five of theirs. Three returned, the last one bleeding heavily, he fell into back into our holding pen. I went to go over to help but Korg held me back.

“Nothing we can do but wait, chest wound, poor Doug” he said sadly

Two solo fights - firstly huge mountain of a man fighting a similar sized fighter from the blue team. We watched through the bars of the arena gates as he lost quickly and was dragged off. Nerves, fear, I’m not sure how to explain how I felt when I entered the arena.

I was deafened by the roar of the crowds above here, and almost paralyzed by the overwhelming spectacle of it all. Fear had turned to gut wrenching panic as I’d seen my opponent enter from the other side - it took all my will not to run screaming back to the gate through which I’d been pushed and beg to be let back in. I knew that was death, I’d get a sword to the back as soon as I turned, but how could I stand and face the alternative? The guy opposite me was huge, massive arms holding a sword twice the size of mine.

And then, well I really don’t remember much. Maybe ask Korg, he saw it. All I can recall, apart from small disjointed fragments is a clarity and stillness that I’d felt as my opponent had charged at me. I’d had the same feeling before, when I was in a car accident, skidding off an icy road on a sharp bend. Everything slowed down, everything became crystal clear. I can remember blocking his furious sword thrust and feeling like it was the most natural thing in the world when I spun and sliced through the back of his leather jerkin with my blade. It was like dancing, and I hadn’t realised I knew the steps.

At the end I found myself panting and bloody kneeling on the sand, the arena erupting into applause for “Red Red Red”, for me. I got up unsteadily, the come down from the adrenaline rush and exhaustion finally hitting me. Walking slowly back to the now open gate, I looked up to the Grandmaster’s box, with its long white couch and hordes of attendants standing behind. The Grandmaster was clapping excitedly, but at the far end I could see Loki, sitting, leaning forward, arms in his knees as he stared at me, his expression unreadable. I hoped he saw the middle finger I thrust into the air in his direction as I had limped off, clasping my hand to a cut my opponent had inflicted on my upper arm. I couldn’t look back as they dragged his body off the sand. I got into the pen and threw up until there was only bile left.

Weirdly though, that wasn’t the hardest thing emotionally I had to go through during my time on Sakaar. Worse was to come…

[blogwonderwebsites]

Business Reliable Sources: Kavanaugh calls allegation in New Yorker story a ‘smear’

Business Reliable Sources: Kavanaugh calls allegation in New Yorker story a ‘smear’ Business Reliable Sources: Kavanaugh calls allegation in New Yorker story a ‘smear’ http://www.nature-business.com/business-reliable-sources-kavanaugh-calls-allegation-in-new-yorker-story-a-smear/

Business

A version of this article first appeared in the Reliable Sources newsletter. You can sign up for free right here. Supreme Turmoil “This is a smear, plain and simple,” Brett Kavanaugh says. That’s his response to the new allegation of sexual misconduct against him — published by The New Yorker on Sunday night — in a story co-bylined by Ronan Farrow and Jane Mayer. “I look forward to testifying on Thursday about the truth, and defending my good name — and the reputation for character and integrity I have spent a lifetime building — against these last-minute allegations,” Kavanaugh said. The White House responded to the story by reiterating its support for Kavanaugh. But the headline everyone heard Sunday night/will hear Monday morning is: “A second woman.” “New allegations.” The accuser, Deborah Ramirez, says she knew Kavanaugh at Yale. She alleges that he exposed himself at a party. If you haven’t read it yet, here’s the story… >> Reminder: There’s a hearing scheduled for Thursday at 10 a.m. ET… Farrow + Mayer This time, the rumors were right. All afternoon long, the chattering classes in DC and NYC said that Farrow was about to break a big story about Kavanaugh. The White House apparently knew several hours ahead of time. Word of the story leaked out via The Drudge Report in the 6 p.m. hour. The actual story came out one hour later. But it wasn’t just Farrow’s story: Mayer was the second byline. This was the third co-production by the pair: They also worked together on the investigation that ensnared NY A.G. Eric Schneiderman. >> FLASHBACK: Mayer and Jill Abramson co-authored “Strange Justice: The Selling of Clarence Thomas…” >> COMPETITION: Other news outlets were also chasing the Ramirez story… For example, NBC News says a reporter contacted Ramirez on Saturday… Key graf from the New Yorker: “The New Yorker contacted Ramirez after learning of her possible involvement in an incident involving Kavanaugh. The allegation was also conveyed to Democratic senators by a civil-rights lawyer. For Ramirez, the sudden attention has been unwelcome, and prompted difficult choices. She was at first hesitant to speak publicly, partly because her memories contained gaps because she had been drinking at the time of the alleged incident. In her initial conversations with The New Yorker, she was reluctant to characterize Kavanaugh’s role in the alleged incident with certainty.” The mag says that “after six days of carefully assessing her memories and consulting with her attorney,” she felt confident enough to recount it all… Here’s the thing… As I said on “CNN Newsroom” Sunday night, there’s much more to be learned here. But the existence of this new allegation will spur a lot more scrutiny of Kavanaugh’s hard-partying high school and college years. Already, there’s been reporting about excessive drinking and ensuing behavior. One of the headlines on CNN.com on Sunday night, before this new allegation came out, said “100 kegs. A stripper. Kavanaugh’s classmate reveals wild parties…” “Boys will be boys?” During the aforementioned CNN segment, I found myself saying this about Kavanaugh: “He is allowed to have been a frat boy. I’m sure other judges have been frat boys. I’m sure other judges have had similar experiences at college.” Afterward, I wanted to unwind those words. Yes, a fraternity member is allowed to become a Supreme Court justice — many have. Long nights of partying shouldn’t be counted against someone. But acts of sexual assault should be. Boys will only “be boys” if society enables and excuses certain behaviors… Gergen’s view On CNN, David Gergen urged caution and patience: Lawmakers and the public need time to “absorb this and begin to make judgments.” He said, “I can’t tell you how important I think it is for the future of the press in this country, if he’s going to be ‘brought down’ — we don’t know that, but if he’s going to be ‘brought down’ — that the press isn’t seen as complicit in that effort.” Surge of calls to sexual assault hotline President Trump’s tweets casting doubt on Christine Blasey Ford’s account helped the hashtag #WhyIDidntReport go viral. The conversations may have also spurred some people to seek support. A spokesperson for RAINN told me on Sunday that “calls to the National Sexual Assault Hotline were up 42% on Friday and Saturday compared to an average Friday and Saturday.” The # is 800-656-4673… Flashbacks to 1991 It’s a “he said, she said” case with the facts “still in dispute.” Male lawmakers are being criticized for mishandling the allegations. “Why rush this?” And the situation is sending “an electric current of anger through women.” All of those quotes could apply to today’s news… but they’re from a front-page NYT story by Maureen Dowd in 1991. Here’s her story from back then… Plus her column from this Sunday’s paper… Abramson’s view As mentioned up above, Jane Mayer and Jill Abramson co-wrote the definitive book about Hill and Thomas. As for this moment in time, Abramson told me on “Reliable,” “What I’ve been struck by is the anger of women that I’ve heard from. If they feel unheard at the end of these hearings, I think there are gonna be big political consequences…” >> Another key point: Think of “the courage it takes,” she said, “in THIS media environment, for Dr. Ford to walk into that hearing room, sit down and tell her story…” >> Hear more from Abramson, Rachel Sklar and Charles Blow in this segment… Just try… Try to put yourself Christine Blasey Ford’s shoes for a minute. You’re living out of a suitcase. You’re staring down death threats. You’re thinking about testifying. Everybody on TV is talking about you. And many websites are smearing you to help Kavanaugh. Here’s my essay from Sunday’s show… FOR THE RECORD — WPP’s new CEO “is preparing to consolidate some of the advertising giant’s major properties, as traditional agencies struggle to keep pace with the industry’s digital shift…” (WSJ) — “With a $20 million gift from the Craigslist founder Craig Newmark,” Julia Angwin and Jeff Larson are starting The Markup, “a news site dedicated to investigating technology and its effect on society.” Sue Gardner will be exec director… (NYT) — Rethinking #Resist: “Viewed from the broad sweep of history, Donald Trump is the resistance. We are not,” Michelle Alexander writes in her first NYT column… (NYT) Week ahead calendar — Monday: UN General Assembly begins in NYC… — Monday evening: AT&T’s Relevance conference begins in Santa Barbara… — Thursday: Texas Tribune Festival gets underway in Austin… — Friday, via Brian Lowry: Three new releases: The animated “Smallfoot,” the Kevin Hart-Tiffany Haddish comedy “Night School,” and “The Old Man and the Gun,” which may or may not be — depending on what he says this week –Robert Redford’s last movie… TV’s premiere week Brian Lowry emails: The major networks are kicking off the season with a flurry of new series starting Monday, amid a period of inordinate tumult. If only the shows, generally — including 10 premieres this week, among them CBS’ “Murphy Brown” revival and “Magnum P.I.” reboot — were as interesting as all the behind-the-scenes drama. NBC, meanwhile, likely received a pre-premiere promotional lift on Sunday, as Tiger Woods scored a PGA Tour victory, his first such win in five years, and almost surely a ratings magnet… About all that behind-the-scenes drama… Consider the state of the TV business. CBS CEO Les Moonves resigned under pressure two weeks ago. NBC Entertainment chairman Bob Greenblattis ready to step down. Fox is a big question mark, given the Disney-Fox deal. At at Disney, TV chief Ben Sherwood is “preparing to leave,” Variety’s Cynthia Littleton scooped on Saturday night. Sherwood “had been considering options for a new role during the past two months after it became clear that Fox’s Peter Rice is poised to take on his duties as leader of Disney’s TV operations, with the exception of ESPN,” per Littleton. All the details here… What’s next for Sherwood? THR notes that “he had a contract with Disney extending until 2021.” He’ll remain with Disney until the Fox deal closes, then he’ll have a noncompete for a while… And then what? Sherwood sounds eager to try some entrepreneurial endeavors, per a source familiar with his thinking. He has written several best-selling books. He is interested in taking stock of options in the media biz and beyond, the source said… Fox announcements TBD Deadline hears that “we are about a week or so away from Disney unveiling the names of top 21st Century Fox executives who would be joining the company following the acquisition of key Fox assets.” October 1 is the potential date. Rice’s deal is “said to be all but done” and Fox TV Group chairman Dana Walden is “negotiating hers.” Read more of Sunday’s Reliable Sources newsletter… And subscribe here to receive future editions in your inbox… “Also expected to be going over to Disney-Fox after the acquisition is completed are FX Networks CEO John Landgraf and Nat Geo CEO Courteney Monroe,” Deadline says. “The situation is fluid with Fox TV Group chairman Gary Newman…” CNNMoney (New York) First published September 24, 2018: 1:03 AM ET Read More | https://money.cnn.com/2018/09/24/media/reliable-sources-09-23-18/index.html | Brian Stelter

Business Reliable Sources: Kavanaugh calls allegation in New Yorker story a ‘smear’, in 2018-09-24 08:48:03

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Business Reliable Sources: Kavanaugh calls allegation in New Yorker story a ‘smear’

Business Reliable Sources: Kavanaugh calls allegation in New Yorker story a ‘smear’ Business Reliable Sources: Kavanaugh calls allegation in New Yorker story a ‘smear’ https://ift.tt/2Q3zxAb

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A version of this article first appeared in the Reliable Sources newsletter. You can sign up for free right here. Supreme Turmoil “This is a smear, plain and simple,” Brett Kavanaugh says. That’s his response to the new allegation of sexual misconduct against him — published by The New Yorker on Sunday night — in a story co-bylined by Ronan Farrow and Jane Mayer. “I look forward to testifying on Thursday about the truth, and defending my good name — and the reputation for character and integrity I have spent a lifetime building — against these last-minute allegations,” Kavanaugh said. The White House responded to the story by reiterating its support for Kavanaugh. But the headline everyone heard Sunday night/will hear Monday morning is: “A second woman.” “New allegations.” The accuser, Deborah Ramirez, says she knew Kavanaugh at Yale. She alleges that he exposed himself at a party. If you haven’t read it yet, here’s the story… >> Reminder: There’s a hearing scheduled for Thursday at 10 a.m. ET… Farrow + Mayer This time, the rumors were right. All afternoon long, the chattering classes in DC and NYC said that Farrow was about to break a big story about Kavanaugh. The White House apparently knew several hours ahead of time. Word of the story leaked out via The Drudge Report in the 6 p.m. hour. The actual story came out one hour later. But it wasn’t just Farrow’s story: Mayer was the second byline. This was the third co-production by the pair: They also worked together on the investigation that ensnared NY A.G. Eric Schneiderman. >> FLASHBACK: Mayer and Jill Abramson co-authored “Strange Justice: The Selling of Clarence Thomas…” >> COMPETITION: Other news outlets were also chasing the Ramirez story… For example, NBC News says a reporter contacted Ramirez on Saturday… Key graf from the New Yorker: “The New Yorker contacted Ramirez after learning of her possible involvement in an incident involving Kavanaugh. The allegation was also conveyed to Democratic senators by a civil-rights lawyer. For Ramirez, the sudden attention has been unwelcome, and prompted difficult choices. She was at first hesitant to speak publicly, partly because her memories contained gaps because she had been drinking at the time of the alleged incident. In her initial conversations with The New Yorker, she was reluctant to characterize Kavanaugh’s role in the alleged incident with certainty.” The mag says that “after six days of carefully assessing her memories and consulting with her attorney,” she felt confident enough to recount it all… Here’s the thing… As I said on “CNN Newsroom” Sunday night, there’s much more to be learned here. But the existence of this new allegation will spur a lot more scrutiny of Kavanaugh’s hard-partying high school and college years. Already, there’s been reporting about excessive drinking and ensuing behavior. One of the headlines on CNN.com on Sunday night, before this new allegation came out, said “100 kegs. A stripper. Kavanaugh’s classmate reveals wild parties…” “Boys will be boys?” During the aforementioned CNN segment, I found myself saying this about Kavanaugh: “He is allowed to have been a frat boy. I’m sure other judges have been frat boys. I’m sure other judges have had similar experiences at college.” Afterward, I wanted to unwind those words. Yes, a fraternity member is allowed to become a Supreme Court justice — many have. Long nights of partying shouldn’t be counted against someone. But acts of sexual assault should be. Boys will only “be boys” if society enables and excuses certain behaviors… Gergen’s view On CNN, David Gergen urged caution and patience: Lawmakers and the public need time to “absorb this and begin to make judgments.” He said, “I can’t tell you how important I think it is for the future of the press in this country, if he’s going to be ‘brought down’ — we don’t know that, but if he’s going to be ‘brought down’ — that the press isn’t seen as complicit in that effort.” Surge of calls to sexual assault hotline President Trump’s tweets casting doubt on Christine Blasey Ford’s account helped the hashtag #WhyIDidntReport go viral. The conversations may have also spurred some people to seek support. A spokesperson for RAINN told me on Sunday that “calls to the National Sexual Assault Hotline were up 42% on Friday and Saturday compared to an average Friday and Saturday.” The # is 800-656-4673… Flashbacks to 1991 It’s a “he said, she said” case with the facts “still in dispute.” Male lawmakers are being criticized for mishandling the allegations. “Why rush this?” And the situation is sending “an electric current of anger through women.” All of those quotes could apply to today’s news… but they’re from a front-page NYT story by Maureen Dowd in 1991. Here’s her story from back then… Plus her column from this Sunday’s paper… Abramson’s view As mentioned up above, Jane Mayer and Jill Abramson co-wrote the definitive book about Hill and Thomas. As for this moment in time, Abramson told me on “Reliable,” “What I’ve been struck by is the anger of women that I’ve heard from. If they feel unheard at the end of these hearings, I think there are gonna be big political consequences…” >> Another key point: Think of “the courage it takes,” she said, “in THIS media environment, for Dr. Ford to walk into that hearing room, sit down and tell her story…” >> Hear more from Abramson, Rachel Sklar and Charles Blow in this segment… Just try… Try to put yourself Christine Blasey Ford’s shoes for a minute. You’re living out of a suitcase. You’re staring down death threats. You’re thinking about testifying. Everybody on TV is talking about you. And many websites are smearing you to help Kavanaugh. Here’s my essay from Sunday’s show… FOR THE RECORD — WPP’s new CEO “is preparing to consolidate some of the advertising giant’s major properties, as traditional agencies struggle to keep pace with the industry’s digital shift…” (WSJ) — “With a $20 million gift from the Craigslist founder Craig Newmark,” Julia Angwin and Jeff Larson are starting The Markup, “a news site dedicated to investigating technology and its effect on society.” Sue Gardner will be exec director… (NYT) — Rethinking #Resist: “Viewed from the broad sweep of history, Donald Trump is the resistance. We are not,” Michelle Alexander writes in her first NYT column… (NYT) Week ahead calendar — Monday: UN General Assembly begins in NYC… — Monday evening: AT&T’s Relevance conference begins in Santa Barbara… — Thursday: Texas Tribune Festival gets underway in Austin… — Friday, via Brian Lowry: Three new releases: The animated “Smallfoot,” the Kevin Hart-Tiffany Haddish comedy “Night School,” and “The Old Man and the Gun,” which may or may not be — depending on what he says this week –Robert Redford’s last movie… TV’s premiere week Brian Lowry emails: The major networks are kicking off the season with a flurry of new series starting Monday, amid a period of inordinate tumult. If only the shows, generally — including 10 premieres this week, among them CBS’ “Murphy Brown” revival and “Magnum P.I.” reboot — were as interesting as all the behind-the-scenes drama. NBC, meanwhile, likely received a pre-premiere promotional lift on Sunday, as Tiger Woods scored a PGA Tour victory, his first such win in five years, and almost surely a ratings magnet… About all that behind-the-scenes drama… Consider the state of the TV business. CBS CEO Les Moonves resigned under pressure two weeks ago. NBC Entertainment chairman Bob Greenblattis ready to step down. Fox is a big question mark, given the Disney-Fox deal. At at Disney, TV chief Ben Sherwood is “preparing to leave,” Variety’s Cynthia Littleton scooped on Saturday night. Sherwood “had been considering options for a new role during the past two months after it became clear that Fox’s Peter Rice is poised to take on his duties as leader of Disney’s TV operations, with the exception of ESPN,” per Littleton. All the details here… What’s next for Sherwood? THR notes that “he had a contract with Disney extending until 2021.” He’ll remain with Disney until the Fox deal closes, then he’ll have a noncompete for a while… And then what? Sherwood sounds eager to try some entrepreneurial endeavors, per a source familiar with his thinking. He has written several best-selling books. He is interested in taking stock of options in the media biz and beyond, the source said… Fox announcements TBD Deadline hears that “we are about a week or so away from Disney unveiling the names of top 21st Century Fox executives who would be joining the company following the acquisition of key Fox assets.” October 1 is the potential date. Rice’s deal is “said to be all but done” and Fox TV Group chairman Dana Walden is “negotiating hers.” Read more of Sunday’s Reliable Sources newsletter… And subscribe here to receive future editions in your inbox… “Also expected to be going over to Disney-Fox after the acquisition is completed are FX Networks CEO John Landgraf and Nat Geo CEO Courteney Monroe,” Deadline says. “The situation is fluid with Fox TV Group chairman Gary Newman…” CNNMoney (New York) First published September 24, 2018: 1:03 AM ET Read More | https://ift.tt/2PVGJOy | Brian Stelter

Business Reliable Sources: Kavanaugh calls allegation in New Yorker story a ‘smear’, in 2018-09-24 08:48:03