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princessbrunette · 2 months

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OUTERBANKS: THE ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE AU — THE LORE ♡

₊˚⊹ ᰔ

CW: depressing tones, violence, death, blood, gore.

AN: okay, so i don’t really know what this is — but i wanted to open this up as an au i could write drabbles for with reader x character and i decided to write some extensive lore behind the universe i’m creating. i’ve always loved zombie media so i wanted to combine my fav things n create this little au for you guys. this isn’t really a fic but more so an opener to inspire drabble requests n ideas in my inbox, kind of like an experimentation. okay, hope you enjoy !! ౨ৎ

“We got gate one locked down, I repeat Pope— we got gate one locked down. Proceed with opening gate two. Over.”

“Got it, thanks JJ. Over.”

The squealing of mechanics shakes the dusty ground as the old gates begin to slowly slide, squealing as they open up revealing the long forest road up ahead. John B readies himself for a simple supply stake out, headed out alone to check out an old warehouse one of the runners had scoped out a week prior. As he exits the gates, he looks right and then looks left — stepping on the squishy skull of a previously dealt with Infected, its body lulling out from the old rickety grafitti’d sign reading Kitty Hawk.

The world went to shit back in 2020. Some sort of pandemic that had people biting others, their brains overpowered by aggression and hunger for flesh. One day everyone was cleaning up the beaches after Storm Agatha, the next day people were tearing into flesh right infront of your very eyes. At first, the people of the Outerbanks had moved out onto their boats, living out on the water with the occasional supply run. It worked for a while, the infected couldn’t swim so as long as your boat was afloat — you were safe from their bloody unforgiving jaws. However, supplies started to run out pretty fast, and people began to turn on eachother. Hopping boats and pirating until no one was left standing and the water was tainted with blood— the infected gathered on the shore to feast on the bodies slowly being washed up by the tide.

The pogues had found you by week six, your body curled on the pier by the Chateau crying into your hands having lost everyone you’d ever known. You were sure to soon perish— no supplies, no weapons, no food. Life had become bleak, hopeless — until for the first time in your life you’d felt the cold barrel of a pistol pressed to the back of your head.

“Who are you and why are you out here?” Kiara barks, a khaki green bandana tied to cover her nose and mouth.

“I’m— i’m just looking for shelter. I don’t have any weapons on me I swear I’m safe, please just —”

“Are you bit?”

“No!”

“Turn around.”

When you slowly turn, you’re met with two female faces, one more familiar than the other. Besides Kiara stands Sarah Cameron— a girl you went to school with. She looks more unsure than Carerra, hand resting on the pocket knife wedging out of the waistband to her denim shorts.

“I don’t think she’s bit Kie… hey, I think I know this girl.”

It was Sarah who had convinced Kiara to bring you back to the Chateau and let you stay. It was also Sarah who got you accustomed, explaining the role everyone played. She was a negotiator, her social ranking in the old world aiding her in communicating with people outside of the barricades they’d made. Kie was in charge of supplies, stock take and recruiting. She decided who was in and who was out. Pope was the brains, did all the mathematical equations to help the group understand their circumstances and chances of survival better. JJ, a fighter — most skilled in dealing with firearms and building bombs, which came in pretty handy when clearing out what was left of Kitty Hawk. John B was their leader, he often came up with the main strategies and stuck his neck out on the line.

Everyone was their own cog in the well oiled machine they’d built to aid them in surviving an apocalypse. It was uncertain what you could bring to the group until you’d mentioned that you’d been studying to be a nurse.

“S’good thing you come in useful ‘cus I was totally gonna suggest we use you as bait. Y’know, cos of the whole doe eyed damsel in distress thing you got goin’ on.” JJ jests with a smirk, and you don’t miss the way his eyes linger on you to make sure you knew he was only kidding around.

You became a lot more useful for patching people up once you’d cleared out Kitty Hawk. The pogues and yourself had began to collect a larger group of survivors, creating a small town to live in what once was the behavioural-correctional camp. You’d collected gardeners, seamstresses, doctors — people of all ages looking for shelter and safety to live in the many dormitories the land had to offer. You had the evening shifts, patching up any runners that had return from their time outside of the gates with injuries.

You remember the day Sarah got bit so clearly.

The Twinkie had come barrelling through the gates so fast, the townspeople that protected the entrances barely getting them open in time before the vehicle was speeding in— Kiara and John B ushering the blonde out the doors yelling out for you urgently with devastation in their voices, begging you to amputate the arm she’d been bitten on.

The pogues had gone for what was promised to be a civil meeting with Ward and Rafe Cameron. The two had taken over what was left of Kildare, creating a strong colony in a gated community that Ward had just come into possession of right before the outbreak. They were feared, respected — and they wanted Sarah to return to them.

Of course, the meeting was a set up— and when Sarah had refused to go with them — they opened fire, attracting rogue infected to swarm in on the group. In the chaos, Sarah was bitten — and JJ in a fit of rage had shot Ward Cameron straight through the skull infront of his only son. This started an all out war.

You recall arriving to Sarah, and your heart sinking. It was definitely too late, her eyes blood shot and skin uncharacteristically pale. She was whispering “Its okay.” Over and over. You wasn’t sure if she was convincing you or herself.

Kiara took her out to the forest to put her out of her misery before she got the chance to turn into one of the brainless monsters that had existed outside the gates. She was stronger than you could ever be, holding back her tears as she aims the barrel to the blondes head. You weren’t there, but you heard the gunshot as you were patching up JJ who was skimmed by a bullet. You slept by his side that night without uttering a word about it.

Everyone got a little more serious from that point on. You often stared at the heart with her initials she’d carved into her old bunkbed that now sits empty in her dorm, her things laid out like she was still coming back to collect them one day. John B got a little more stern as a leader, over protective of you as he made it clear he didn’t believe you’d be able to protect yourself out there — banning you from leaving the gates. JJ became a more ferocious fighter, busying himself with target practice out in the forest shooting bullseyes each day to ensure he could quickly take down whoever he needed to. Pope got more reserved, more moody — hanging out by himself infront of maps or in the radio room with Kie trying to find new survivors. Occasionally, just occasionally — the bunch of you would get together and drink round a camp fire. Things would feel normal again, just for one night — the group laughing and telling stories the same way they might have done before the outbreak.

You wondered how long this could last, if there was ever an end to any of this. You also wondered if there was a reason to it all happening, if you were being punished for the way you’d behaved as human beings. Mostly though, on a day to day basis— you wondered when Rafe Cameron would return for his revenge. It was only a matter of time.

#jj maybank prompt #john b prompt #rafe cameron prompt #pope heyward prompt #apocalypse!au

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marjorierose · 2 months

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The Les Mis fandom doesn't much like "Turning," the song sung by the women of Paris on the morning after the barricade. It's easy to understand why. It undersells the seriousness of the revolutionaries--"they were schoolboys, never held a gun"--not likely even if you don't take the previous revolution into account. "Nothing changes, nothing ever will" is not particularly inspiring after all that talk about revolution. It's a pretty hopeless song about history being cyclical, in a musical that otherwise is about glorifying people's efforts to create change.

But I don't think we have to take "Turning" as a truer statement of values than we do "Stars." It's sung by characters in the story, although we don't know their names. And as something diegetic, as a portrayal of people reacting to that failure, it really worked for me on this latest viewing. Think of the last deeply disappointing election result, and then think of the last time there was a major disaster in your city if you've experienced that, and then imagine those things combined such that everyone fighting for positive change had been killed, and the attitude of the women makes a lot more sense. "Nothing changes, nothing ever will": in some circumstances you disavow hope because you just can't stand trying to keep it, because giving up hurts less, because if you see the future as walking in perpetual circles at least you understand where you're going.

Lately I have been remembering the bewildering early days of the uprising in 2020 here in the Twin Cities, the boarded-up windows with messages spray-painted on them ("minority-owned business," "people live upstairs") and the police casually macing groups of people at busy intersections or train stations. Even more than that, I've been remembering the morning after the 2021 municipal election, when police reform failed, the mayor was reelected and granted more power than ever, and the city council that had promised to remake public safety in the city got replaced by the most conservative council in many years. Activists were getting together just to grieve and to vent, and those Zoom vent sessions were not really enough for the immense feelings of loss. It's different from, or additive to, the grief and the survivor's guilt of "Empty Chairs." It's having your hope deflate because the thing you were hoping for just isn't there to look to anymore, and then it's reforming yourself around its absence. The crucial moment goes by unused and you don't know when another one will arise. It's easy to get cynical. The future looks like a treadmill: minutes into hours and the hours into years. Rien n'est changé; rien ne changera. I can't think of a single other song about that feeling.

#les misérables #I feel vaguely like I should have a separate tag for the musical #but it's probably too late to worry about that now

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workingclasshistory · 2 years

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On this day, 4 October 1936, Oswald Mosley's British Union of Fascists planned to march through a predominantly Jewish section of East London, instead the Battle of Cable Street occured. The fascists were met by over 100,000 local residents and workers who – insistent that 'They shall not pass!' – fought both the blackshirts and the police protecting them, forcing the march to be abandoned. Reg Weston who was there, described what happened when the fascists and their police escort met the crowds, including many women and dockworkers: "The fascists were assembling by the Royal Mint and police started to make baton charges, both foot and mounted, to try to clear a way for them to escort a march. They did not succeed. A barricade started to go up. A lorry was overturned, furniture was piled up, paving stones and a builders yard helped to complete the barrier. The police managed to clear the first, but found a second behind it and then a third. Marbles were thrown under the hooves of the police horses; volleys of bricks met every baton charge." Meanwhile, women stood at the windows of local tenements, hurling missiles at police, and heading downstairs to pursue officers who fled. Eventually, Weston explained: "the Metropolitan Police chief, who had been directing operations, told Sir Oswald it would be impossible for him to have his march through the East End to his proposed rally in Victoria Park. The uniformed Blackshirts formed up and marched. But they marched west not east. They went through the deserted City of London and ended up on the Embankment, where they just dispersed — defeated." Learn more about Cable Street, and the fight against Mosley in the 1940s in our podcast episodes 35-37: https://workingclasshistory.com/2020/02/17/e35-37-the-43-group/ https://www.facebook.com/workingclasshistory/photos/a.296224173896073/2099006093617863/?type=3

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red-mask-of-death · 11 months

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Redraw of a piece I made for barricade day in 2020. I’ve definitely come far in my skills and I love how it turned out. 💪

#my art #my thoughts #enjoltaire #enjolras #grantaire #les miserables #barricade day #june 5th #les amis #les mis art #fan art #it’s rotten work #les amis de l'abc #a red original #les mis

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robotvaljean · 2 years

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It’s barricade day

An abandoned wip from 2020 and something from 2022 I haven’t quite got to finishing yet

#Les Miserables #les mis #javert #Jean Valjean #valvert #me scrounging through my old art: SOMETHING HAS TO BE POSTABLE FOR TODAY OF DAYS

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inkymoon16 · 5 months

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Love At First Sight

Bobby Skeetz x Reader

tags: first person narrative, inhaler imagine

Today was the day. The Inhaler concert. My friend and I had been planning this day for months. When we bought the concert tickets I felt an unmatched happiness and anticipation for the date. I had been a fan of Inhaler since 2020 and I was confident of my lyric knowledge.

I had introduced my friend to the band a couple months ago and she immediately loved them. We planned to get to the city early so that we could wait on line and get barricade. I really wanted to be as close to the music as possible and I didn't care how long I waited. We had packed lunch and dinner in disposable baggies in order to not leave the line. Even though the band is not that well known, we didn't want to take any chances.

I checked my phone and it was around 5:00. Doors open soon. Waiting in the line all day made those final 2 hours feel like nothing. We had managed to be some of the first people on line so barricade was almost a guarantee. My stomach danced in the anticipation of seeing the boys on stage. I had dreamed of this day for so long. All those hours of watching interviews and concert footage and I was finally going to see them in person. I smiled thinking about it.

We had picked our outfits months ago - our anticipation getting the best of us. I had on Levi's jeans, a black tank top, and since it was a little chilly out, a jean jacket. The outfit was very 70s inspired. My hair was down around my shoulders and we had both done our makeup. My friend had on leather pants, Vans, and a purple bralette. As the time got closer to doors opening, we could hear their soundchecks. I could hear "My Honest Face" and "Cheer Up Baby" faintly through the doors. My heart raced, anticipating hearing those up close to my face.

The doors finally opened and we raced inside. The cool inside felt nice against my skin and the open floor made my feet pick up speed. Next thing I know, we got barricade. I looked at my friend and we both broke into massive grins.

"Thank God. We did it." She said. We were so close to the stage. Like so close. If one of the band members kneeled down, they would be right in my face. My heart rate once again picked up. All of them were so fine. I know my friend fancied Eli, but I personally fancied Bobby. God, he was so hot. I literally felt myself blushing just thinking about him. And the fact that in just a couple hours he would be right in front of me made me blush harder.

The time seemed to drag by so slowly. The opening act was good, but nothing crazy. 30 minutes left until they came on. The tension in the pit was palpable. Everyone was nervous but beyond excited.

The lights went out. I felt my heart drop to the floor and my face broke out into a massive grin. This was the moment. Finally. As the lights came back on, shining upon their bodies I blushed for no reason. There they were. Bobby looked so fucking good. I could see my friend practically drooling over Eli.

Bobby's microphone was at the perfect angle where we kept making eye contact. I didn't want to seem delusional but after a couple repeated times, it felt as though he was seeking me out. So I acted it up a little. Dancing in a sexy way and sending him flirtatious smirks. He reciprocated one of the smirks and I felt my heart flutter.

At one point during "My King Will Be Kind" Bobby came close to barricade and bent down in front of me. He started strumming his guitar directly at me and I could see every detail in his beautiful face. I gazed right into his eyes and saw they were glazed with adrenaline and lust. My stomach was filled with butterflies. He grabbed my chin and whispered "Meet me outside later" close to my face before backing away. He winked and stood back up.

Holy shit. I looked to my friend for confirmation that this did actually happen and I wasn't hallucinating. Her face was flooded with shock. "WHAT THE FUCK?!" I yelled at her. The girls near me kept shooting daggers with their eyes, but I couldn't care less.

For the rest of the concert, Bobby and I kept making eye contact. I had no idea where on Earth I was supposed to meet him, but I would find it. I just had to make sure no other fans followed us.

As soon as the concert finished, my friend and I tried to get out of the venue as quickly as we could. Outside on the street we went around the corner to see if there was an exit that we could find. Down a side alley there was an unmarked door and we both shrugged before entering the dark alley.

"Honestly if we die while waiting for this band it was so worth it." She said.

I nodded. "Oh, absolutely."

Fortunately, we did not have to wait long. Josh came through the door first, followed by Ryan. They waved to us, clearly unphased by our presence. They waited at the end of the alley with their hands in their pockets. Eli and Robert came out and he immediately smiled at me.

"Hello gorgeous." Bobby said to me. I gave him a seductive smile and he put his arm around my back.

"Where are we going?" I ask, as I could hear my friend strike up a conversation with Eli.

"The bar next door - there's cheap drinks and dancing."

"Perfect."

We entered the bar, the bouncer barely checking us. The music was loud and pounded against my heart. It was dark and dimly lit, with a makeshift dance floor on the side. We approached the bar and he came close to my face. "Let me buy you a drink. I didn't get your name either."

"Rum and coke. It's Sienna."

"Sienna. What a lovely name. Well I guess you know I'm Bobby."

I laughed. "Really? Didn't know." I said sarcastically, which made him crack a smile at this. We got our drinks and he put his arm around me again.

"Come on, let's dance." He led me towards the dance floor and I felt my heart swoon at the sight of him, sweaty in dim bar lightning. He had combat boots, jeans, and a faded band t-shirt on. I wanted to consume him at that moment. His eyes roamed over me in the same way.

The music danced around us as we screamed the well known lyrics at each other. Each moment was getting more lustful as he leaned towards me. His lips caught mine and the world was suddenly on fire. It was like nothing else mattered. His hands grabbed my hips as mine grabbed his hair. We made out like that for a while. We kept dancing and making out. In between small talk conversation of course.

#bobby skeetz #robertkeating #bobby skeetz x reader #bobby skeetz imagine #inhaler imagine #bobby skeetz x you #robert keating x reader

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beardedmrbean · 6 months

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ARRAS, France —

A man of Chechen origin who was under surveillance by French security services over suspected Islamic radicalization stabbed a teacher to death at his former high school and wounded three other people Friday in northern France, authorities said.

France raised its threat alert to its highest level, and the attack was being investigated by anti-terrorism prosecutors amid soaring global tensions over the war between Israel and Hamas. It also happened almost three years after another teacher, Samuel Paty, was beheaded by a radicalized Chechen near a Paris area school.

The suspected attacker had been under surveillance since the summer on suspicion of Islamic radicalization, French intelligence services told The Associated Press. He was detained Thursday for questioning based on the monitoring of his phone calls in recent days, but investigators found no sign that he was preparing an attack, Interior Minister Gerald Darmanin said.

"There was a race against the clock. But there was no threat, no weapon, no indication. We did our our job seriously," Darmanin said on TF1 television. French intelligence suggested a link between the war in the Middle East and the suspect's decision to attack, the minister said.

The suspect, identified by prosecutors as Mohamed M., was reportedly refusing to speak to investigators. Several others also were in custody Friday, national counterterrorism prosecutor Jean-Francois Ricard said. Police said the suspect's younger brother was among those held for questioning.

President Emmanuel Macron said France had been "hit once again by the barbarity of Islamist terrorism."

"Nearly three years to the day after the assassination of Samuel Paty, terrorism has hit a school again and in a context that we're all aware of," Macron said at the site of the attack in Arras, a city 185 kilometers north of Paris.

A colleague and a fellow teacher identified the dead educator as Dominique Bernard, a French language teacher at the Gambetta-Carnot school, which enrolls students ages 11-18. The victim "stepped in and probably saved many lives" but two of the wounded — another teacher and a security guard — were fighting for theirs, according to Macron.

Authorities said the third person wounded worked as a cleaner at the school. The prosecutor said the alleged assailant was a former student there and repeatedly shouted "Allahu akbar," or "God is great" in Arabic during the attack.

Police officer Sliman Hamzi was one of the first on the scene. Hamzi said he was alerted by another officer, rushed to the school and saw a male victim lying on the ground outside the school and the attacker being taken away. He said the victim had his throat slit.

"I'm extremely shocked by what I saw," the officer said. "It was a horrible thing to see this poor man who was killed on the job by a lunatic."

The National Police force identified the suspect in the attack as a Russian national of Chechen origin who was born in 2003. The French intelligence services told the AP he had been closely watched since the summer with tails and telephone surveillance and was stopped as recently as Thursday for a police check that found no wrongdoing.

Friday's attack had echoes of Paty's slaying on Oct 16, 2020 — also a Friday — by an 18-year-old who had become radicalized. Like the suspect in Friday's stabbings, the earlier attacker had a Chechen background; police shot and killed him.

Martin Doussau, a philosophy teacher at Gambetta-Carnot, said the assailant was armed with two knives and appeared to be hunting specifically for a history teacher. Paty taught history and geography.

"I was chased by the attacker, who ... asked me if I teach history,'" said Doussau, who recounted how he barricaded himself behind a door until police used a stun gun to subdue the attacker. "When he turned around and asked me if I am a history teacher, I immediately thought of Samuel Paty."

The school went into lockdown, and some children were held inside classrooms for hours while distraught parents gathered outside.

"My husband was in tears. There were a lot of people crying, a lot in a state of panic," said Céline Bourgeois, whose 15-year-old son, Louis, was inside.

Prosecutors said they were considering charges of terror-related murder and attempted murder against the suspect.

Macron visited the school, stopping for a moment before the blanket-covered body of the teacher, which was in the parking lot in front of the school, then met with students.

He said police thwarted an "attempted attack" in another region of France after the teacher's fatal stabbing. He did not provide details, but the Interior Ministry said he was referring to a man armed with a knife arrested coming out of a prayer hall in the Yvelines region west of Paris. The man's motives weren't immediately clear, police said.

School attacks are rare in France, and the government asked authorities to heighten vigilance at all schools across the country.

The government also increased its threat alert to its highest level Friday, allowing for larger police and military deployments to protect the country. Darmanin said there was no specific threat that prompted the move, but cited calls by extremists to attack amid the Mideast war.

He said authorities have detained 12 people near schools or places of worship since the Hamas attack on Israel last Saturday, some of whom were armed and were preparing to attack. France has heightened security at hundreds of Jewish sites around the country this week.

The suspect's telephone conversations in recent days gave no indication of an impending attack, leading intelligence officers to conclude that the assailant decided suddenly on Friday to act, intelligence services told the AP.

The suspect's father was expelled from France in 2018 for radicalism, the interior minister said.

An older brother is serving a 5-year prison term for terror offences. He was convicted this year of involvement in a plot for an armed attack around the presidential Elysee Palace in Paris that was thwarted by the intelligence services. Other members of the radical Islamist group were also jailed for up to 15 years. He was the group's only Chechen.

The older brother also was a former pupil at the high school targeted Friday, according to legal records from his trial earlier this year on terror-related charges. Investigation records show that during a school class in 2016 about freedom of expression, the older brother defended a terror attack in 2015 that killed 12 cartoonists at the French satirical newspaper Charlie Hebdo.

Friday's attack came amid heightened tensions around the world over Hamas' attack on southern Israel and Israel's blistering military response, which have killed hundreds of civilians on both sides.

Darmanin on Thursday ordered local authorities to ban all pro-Palestinian demonstrations amid a rise in antisemitic acts.

France is estimated to have the world's third-largest Jewish population after Israel and the U.S., as well as the largest Muslim population in Western Europe.

A moment of silence was held at the opening of a France-Netherlands soccer match Friday night to honor victims of the Israel-Hamas fighting and the slain teacher.

Macron said the school in Arras would reopen as soon as Saturday morning, and he urged the people of France to "stay united."

"The choice has been made not to give in to terror," he said. "We must not let anything divide us, and we must remember that schools and the transmission of knowledge are at the heart of this fight against ignorance."

#nunyas news

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wild-oats-and-cornflowers · 11 months

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I have 23 midterm exams to grade on this blessed Tuesday June 6, so my intended Barricade Day fic will be finished Not Today. this being the case, here are my previous Barricade Day fics for your convenience:

2020: Souviens-Toi De Moi

On the second anniversary of the June Rebellion, Marius feels someone calling him.

2021: Cats Are Nice

The cat is the erratum of the mouse. The mouse, plus the cat, is the proof of creation revised and corrected.

Joly chats a bit with Death about cats and philosophy while they wait for the rest of Les Amis to turn up in the aftermath of the barricade.

2022: Tomorrow, The Future

Combeferre and Prouvaire talk about revolution and civilization on the night before Lamarque's funeral.

#barricade day #fan fiction #les mis #les amis #my writing

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starrzies · 19 days

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★Comic Test Page [Canineformers AU]★

WOOO OKAY

Test page for my future comic! :D My last test pages were in 2020 so a LONG ass time ago. Decided to do this to see if the project is manageable with my level of perfection and it SOMEWHAT is. This took me around 5 hours to do which is super low on time for pieces like this! I simplified some of my shading process as well because that is arguably the most time consuming things!

I have't reavelaed much of the plot and details to ANYONE, so this is super out of context. But; Barricade (Character w/ 'Police' On shoulder) is indebted to Celeste (other character in the scene), and part of him fufilling that is to train her so she can thrive within the Decpeticons. But she is not progressing as quickly as he wants her too and ended early on this day to think of solutions!

If there is a lot of interest in this I will probably try and do more teaser stuff as I work on the story :]

Quick Reminder!! I DO NOT allow people to reupload, repost, claim, trace, reference or use my art without my Permission! If my art is posted anywhere else other than my accounts it’s not mine! If you like my work, consider following me or commissioning me!! (This does not count if the art was made for you! Please remember to credit me though!!)

Art Trades are Open! Commissions are Open!! Do NOT ask me about Requests!! Do NOT; Reupload, Repost, Claim, Trace, Reference or use my art without my Permission! 💜

You can Dm me Questions or Concerns! Like my work? Check out my Carrd for where else you can find me!

#starrz-art #digital art #art #digital artist #starrz-oc #starrz-fanart #canineformers #transformers #transformers au #maccadam #wolfformers

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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year

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Oops! All linkdump!

Tonight (May 2) I’ll be in Portland at the Cedar Hills Powell’s with Andy Baio for my new novel, Red Team Blues.

On May 5, I’ll be at the Books, Inc in Mountain View with Mitch Kapor; and on May 6/7, I’ll be in Berkeley at the Bay Area Bookfest.

In 1997, Jorn Barger coined the term “web-log” to describe his website “Robot Wisdom,” where he logged his journeys around this exciting new digital space called “the web.” Two years later, Peter Merholz shortened “web-blog” to “blog”:

https://peterme.com/archives/00000205.html

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this dump to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/02/wunderkammer/#jubillee

Two years after that, I started blogging, when Mark Frauenfelder made me a guest-editor on Boing Boing:

https://boingboing.net/2001/01/13/hey-mark-made-me-a.html

I’ve now been blogging for 23 years, nearly half my life, a near-daily discipline that forms the spine of my writing practice. I take everything that seems important, and, in summarizing it for strangers, embed it in my own mind, and then find connections that turn into essays, speeches, stories and novels:

https://doctorow.medium.com/the-memex-method-238c71f2fb46

For the past 3+ years, I’ve been blogging solo on my Pluralistic.net project. It started off as a “link-blog,” in the Robot Wisdom vein — short hits summarizing interesting things:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/02/19/pluralist-19-feb-2020/

But over the months and years, it’s turned into a place where I write long essays, sometimes six or seven per week, trying to pull on all those threads that I’ve cataloged over the decades, weaving them together into big, thoughtful pieces, often to great and gratifying notice and even a little fanfare:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/21/potemkin-ai/#hey-guys

But I miss the linkblogging! For the past 14 months, Pluralistic has featured a little section called “Hey look at this,” where I post three short links, bare-bones pointers to interesting stuff online:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/03/01/reit-modernization-act/#linkdump

These links pile up in my todo.txt file, ebbing and flowing. Some days, I’ve got nothing for the section. Some days, I’ve got a backlog. These days, I’ve got a massive backlog — enough links for many, many editions. I am drowning in linkblog debt, and the interest is compounding. It’s time for a jubilee:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/03/24/grandparents-optional-party/#jubilee

Here, then, is the first-ever Pluralistic Jubilee Linkdump Backlog Bankruptcy!

First up:

“The Internet Isn’t Meant To Be So Small,” Kelsey McKinney’s crie-de-coeur for Defector:

https://defector.com/the-internet-isnt-meant-to-be-so-small

This is part of the enshittification canon that includes Cat Valente’s unmissable “Stop Talking to Each Other and Start Buying Things”:

https://catvalente.substack.com/p/stop-talking-to-each-other-and-start

McKinney’s money-shot:

It is worth remembering that the internet wasn’t supposed to be like this. It wasn’t supposed to be six boring men with too much money creating spaces that no one likes but everyone is forced to use because those men have driven every other form of online existence into the ground. The internet was supposed to have pockets, to have enchanting forests you could stumble into and dark ravines you knew better than to enter. The internet was supposed to be a place of opportunity, not just for profit but for surprise and connection and delight. Instead, like most everything American enterprise has promised held some new dream, it has turned out to be the same old thing — a dream for a few, and something much more confining for everyone else.

This doesn’t just make me want to stand up and salute — it makes me want to build a barricade (or a guillotine).

On to “Reddit Data API Update: Changes to Pushshift Access,” a Reddit thread where the volunteer mods are discussing another enshittification move: Reddit’s pre-IPO API shut-down that has broken all the mod tools that volunteers use to shovel out Reddit’s Augean Stables, getting rid of spam and catfishing and fraud:

https://old.reddit.com/r/modnews/comments/134tjpe/reddit_data_api_update_changes_to_pushshift_access/

This isn’t just “stop talking to each other and start buying things” — this is “stop doing billions of dollars in volunteer labor keeping our users safe, and start paying us for the privilege.” Good luck with that, Reddit.

Hey! The Hollywood writers are back on strike! The Guild is a shitkicking, take-no-prisoners, radical union with massive solidarity:

https://www.theverge.com/2023/5/2/23707813/wga-hollywood-writers-strike-2023-streaming-ai-wages-contract

It’s what let them trounce the talent agencies — hyper-concentrated to just four companies, two owned by private equity ghouls — over a 22 month strike:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/11/23/opsec-and-personal-security/#monopsony

The talent agencies had rigged the system so that instead of getting a 10% commission on the writers’ earnings, they were taking as much as 90% out of every dollar — and were about to make it worse, building their own studios, so they could negotiate with themselves on behalf of their clients. In the same week, 7,000 writers — even the ones who weren’t getting screwed — fired their agents, and demanded a return to the 90/10 split and a ban on agencies owning studios. The agencies say nfw. The writers stayed on the picket line.

There’s a whole chapter on this in Chokepoint Capitalism, Rebecca Giblin’s and my book on creative labor markets and monopoly. One of our sources was David Goodman, who led the strike:

https://chokepointcapitalism.com/

David hosted our LA launch, where he told us, “We thought the agencies had all the power. We learned that they only had as much power as we gave them. You can make a movie without an agent. You can’t make one without a writer.”

The new strike is about the same thing as the old strike: shifting money from labor to capital. The studios have figured out how to use streaming to avoid paying writers, using gimmicks like shorter seasons and running their own streaming services to dodge the wages the writers are owed. As the union says, the studios “created a gig economy inside a union workforce.”

I live in Burbank, where many of these studios are located. I’ll see you on the picket line.

Sticking with labor for a moment: the Biden administration is investigating the use of bossware — the spyware your boss uses to monitor your driving, keystrokes, web usage, location, hand-movements, facial expressions, even your eyeballs:

https://gizmodo.com/remote-work-surveillance-software-workers-rights-1850392911

The White House Office of Science and Technology Policy’s Request for Information solicits your experiences with bossware:

https://www.whitehouse.gov/wp-content/uploads/2023/05/050123_OSTP_RFI_PREPUBLISH_.pdf

They want to know:

Workers’ firsthand experiences with surveillance technologies;

Details from employers, technology developers, and vendors on how they develop, sell, and use these technologies;

Best practices for mitigating risks to workers;

Relevant data and research; and

Ideas for how the federal government should respond to any relevant risks and opportunities.

If you’re living under bossware’s yoke — say, if your boss has transformed “work from home” into “live at work,” then you know what to do: melt the switchboard!

One more labor story: a reminder that labor rights are a marathon, not a sprint. A group of Amazon drivers won a $30/hour contract through their union, the Teamsters. Even more importantly, the contract lets them refuse to work under unsafe conditions (it’s never just about money):

https://www.vox.com/technology/2023/4/27/23667968/amazon-contractor-delivery-union-teamsters

But there’s a catch: these are Amazon drivers, but they don’t work for Amazon. They drive Amazon-branded vans, specced down to the last rivet by Amazon. They wear Amazon vests. They deliver Amazon packages. But they work for “Delivery Service Partners,” a kind of pyramid scheme created by Amazon that tricks workers into thinking that paying Amazon for the privilege of working for a trillion-dollar company makes them “entrepreneurs.”

Instead, they’re “chickenized reverse centaurs.” “Chickenized” because — like poultry farmers — they are totally controlled by a monopoly buyer that dictates every part of their business to them, dribbling out just enough money to roll over their loans and go deeper into debt. “reverse-centaurs,” because they’re the inverse of the AI theorists’ idea of a “centaur,” that is, a computer-assisted human. Instead, they are human-assisted computers, with their every last move scripted to the finest degree by bossware that they have to pay for:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/03/19/the-shakedown/#weird-flex

Amazon now has the luxury of terminating its contract with the union’s employer — the cutout that allows Amazon to maintain the worker misclassification pretext that these drivers in Amazon vans wearing Amazon uniforms delivering Amazon packages don’t work for Amazon.

Amazon hates unions in ways that are hard for everyday people to grasp. One of the organizers of the union drive has been illegally terminated in retaliation for his labor activism:

https://news.bloomberglaw.com/daily-labor-report/amazon-delivery-owner-says-he-was-punished-for-supporting-union

This fuckery doesn’t mean that union organizing is dead. As Jane McAlevy writes in “A Collective Bargain,” her superb memoir of her union-organizing career, unions started winning the class war when labor organizing was illegal, fighting in the teeth of a rigged legal system. We won then, we’ll win again:

https://doctorow.medium.com/a-collective-bargain-a48925f944fe

Seeing defeat (seemingly) snatched from the jaws of victory is a major bummer, but a better world is possible. It’s not even complicated — it’s just hard. If you are in precarious housing, or homeless, or if you experience the moral injury of living in a city where your neighbors lack the foundational human right to a home, it’s easy to feel despondent.

But solving homelessness isn’t complicated, it’s just hard. In Finland, they solved homelessness through the simple expedient of giving everyone a home. This didn’t just address the problem of not having a home — it also made incredible progress on the comorbidities of homelessness, like mental health problems and addiction. Turns out, getting sober or getting treatment is a lot easier when you’re not freezing to death on a sidewalk. Whoathunk?

https://www.commondreams.org/opinion/how-finland-solved-homelessness

There are many ways to improve our cities. You can (and should) fight for better local government, but there’s always the tantalizing option of taking matters into your own hands. That’s what the Crosswalk Vigilantes do. They research the intersections where cars are killing their neighbors, then they put on hi-viz vests, set out traffic-cones, and install crosswalks:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x33yLuJ5slI

If you’re wondering how the forces of bossware, homelessness, and other enshittifying factors came to rule, it’s actually pretty straightforward. 40 years ago, we installed a software patch called neoliberalism (in some regions, this patch was had localized names like Thatcherism or Reaganomics).

40 years later, the patch is an unequivocal failure and now it’s our job to roll it back, despite all the broken dependencies this will trigger. Most of us can see this is true, but not The Economist, which Brad DeLong calls “Neoliberalism’s Final Stronghold” in his Project Syndicate article:

https://www.project-syndicate.org/commentary/economist-writers-last-true-believers-in-neoliberalism-by-j-bradford-delong-2023-04

De Long’s catalog of the recent bizarre, delusional work in The Economist embodies Upton Sinclair’s maxim, “it is difficult to get a man to understand something, when his salary depends on his not understanding it.”

Every Naomi Kritzer story is a fucking delight and “Better Living Through Algorithms,” just published in Clarkesworld, is no exception:

https://clarkesworldmagazine.com/kritzer_05_23/

Few writers are better at inhabiting the uncomfortable space between recognizing the delights of the internet without flinching away from its horrors. This one is simultaneously hilarious and horrifying.

If you’re just discovering Kritzer, check out “So Much Cooking,” an eerily prophetic 2015 story in the form of a series of perky cooking-blog posts amidst a global pandemic. It got a much-deserved second life during lockdown’s peak sourdough moment:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/04/17/pack-of-knaves/#so-much-cooking

And then try her at book length! “Catfishing on Catnet” is Kritzer’s book-length adaptation of her Hugo-winning short story “Cat Pictures Please.” It’s an AI caper about cat memes, community, and the anti-enshittification underground:

https://memex.craphound.com/2019/11/19/naomi-kritzers-catfishing-on-the-catnet-an-ai-caper-about-the-true-nature-of-online-friendship/

Speaking of science fiction: I’ve got a new novel out. Red Team Blues is an anti-finance finance thriller, a heist book about cryptocurrency and forensic accounting with a 67-year-old hero, Marty Hench:

http://redteamblues.com/

The book came out last week and I am still in the nailbiting interregnum where its fate is unknowable — will it be another bestseller, or fizzle? Thankfully, the reviews have been stunning. Mitch Wagner calls it “the most exciting technothriller about a 67-year-old accountant you’ll read this year”:

https://mitchw.blog/2023/04/25/warning-cory-doctorows.html

Mitch ruminates some on the distinctive way I’m handling Hench’s aging process in this book and its two (at least sequels). Reading other peoples’ insights into one’s own work is a wild experience. I mean, it’s nice when a reader notices something you worked hard to put in there, and frustrating when a reader imagines something that definitely isn’t there.

But the best thing is when a reader notices something that you didn’t consciously put in there, but which is undeniably there, and also very cool. In his Locus review, Paul DiFilippo homes in on the way that Marty Hench is totally reliant on his friends and comrades to get out of hot water:

https://locusmag.com/2023/04/paul-di-filippo-reviews-red-team-blues-by-cory-doctorow/

Marty is besieged and almost helpless without the aid of friends, acquaintances, and even strangers. He is no go-it-alone superman, but rather an individual tied into a network of humanity, relying on the goodness and altruism of his fellows for survival.

This is so right. Marty is no great man of history — he is part of a polity, a collective of people from all walks of life who try hard to help each other. Call it solidaritypunk. Also, Paul opens his review with “I can’t possibly say enough good things about Cory Doctorow’s new novel.” I mean, who can complain about that?

I was also very gratified by Henry Farrell’s Crookedtimber review, which says some very nice things about the way I work in technical detail, and suggests that this technique is one that all kinds of technical experts, policy wonks and scientists could learn from:

https://crookedtimber.org/2023/04/27/red-team-blues-and-the-as-you-know-bob-problem/

Which makes Matt Green’s review, where the eminent cryptographer digs into the cryptographic technical details of the book, especially delicious. Green is a brilliant scientist and science communicator, and he says I get it right, and do it well:

https://blog.cryptographyengineering.com/2023/04/24/book-review-red-team-blues/

One of the first reviews to hit the web came from Matt Haughey, AKA “Metafilter Matt,” who called it “a ‘ripped from the headlines’ romp”:

https://a.wholelottanothing.org/2023/04/25/red-team-blues-is-a-fun-ripped-from-the-headlines-romp/

Matt’s fellow PDXer and olde timey blogger, Andy Baio, called it “a wild ride”:

https://waxy.org/2023/04/cory-doctorows-red-team-blues-is-out-now/

Andy is my host at tonight’s book signing in PDX, at the Powell’s in Cedar Hills:

https://www.powells.com/book/red-team-blues-martin-hench-1-9781250865847?partnerid=33241

As I type these words, I am sitting in a window-seat on Alaska Air, en route to Portland for that event. I am wearing slip-off shoes, a jacket with pockets of sufficient volume to store my watch, wallet and belt, and socks that I don’t mind exposing to a dirty airport floor. As I shuffled through the TSA checkpoint an hour ago, I found myself looking on the beleaguered “officers” who were patting people down with pity and even a little sympathy.

The TSA is an abomination. A boondoggle that doesn’t make aviation safer, lights billions on fire in lost productivity, wages and capital equipment. Its legion of underpaid, miserable workers invade the privacy and even sexually assault millions of Americans every day, and have been at it for decades without any sign of stopping or even slowing down.

The agency is now 20 years old, and it just keeps getting worse, finding new ways to make America hate it. Reading “The Humiliating History of the TSA,” Darryl Campbell’s giant reckoning in The Verge was a wild ride, and a reminder that while most of us only interact with the TSA’s awful, inexcusable policies a couple times a year, TSA workers live with it every day:

https://www.theverge.com/c/23311333/tsa-history-airport-security-theater-homeland

Before I close, please let us have a moment to acknowledge the passing of Gordon Lightfoot, the Canadian music legend, who has just died at 84. He will be missed:

https://www.joeydevilla.com/2023/05/01/r-i-p-gordon-lightfoot/

All right, it’s time to hit publish on this linkdump, but before I go, a couple of absolutely lovely little webtoys and grace-notes for you to take away:

Womprat (the font you’re looking for) is the world’s greatest Star Wars font collection:

http://womprat.xyz/

And finally, Tumblr, now owned by WordPress parent company Automattic, is striving mightily to reverse decades of enshittification from Yahoo and Verizon. They’re leaving very heavily into listening to their users, paving the desire-paths and putting the community ahead of any other priority.

One place where that is paying unexpected dividends is their deeply weird little merch store, where you can buy up to 24 blue checkmarks to appear on your posts (they sell in pairs at $8). Even better: they’re now selling a 3D printed, light-up, Tumblr-themed Dumpster-Fire:

https://shop.tumblr.com/product/tumblr-dumpster-fire-3d-print/

The dumpster-fire was hoisted from a community member, who made their own, sent it to management, and struck a bargain to sell them through the store. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you make sarsaparilla when life gives you SARS.

Catch me on tour with Red Team Blues in Mountain View, Berkeley, Portland, Vancouver, Calgary, Toronto, DC, Gaithersburg, Oxford, Hay, Manchester, Nottingham, London, and Berlin!

[Image ID: A page of comic book 'small ads.']

#pluralistic #hey look at this #web-log #linky linky #bricolage #linkdump #linkblogging

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