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bonefall · 4 months

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Don’t know if this is the right place to ask, but could you talk more about zoos? I’ve seen many people say that zoos are inherently exploitative and that we should instead focus on advocating for wildlife preserves, etc., but I’m not sure what to think of that. You seem to know a lot about wildlife protection, so what’s your opinion on this?

There are folks faaaar better than myself to talk about the issues of zoos specifically and I'll try to toss in some sources so you can go and learn more, but let me try and explain my mindset here.

Summary of my opinion on this: BOTH of these things can be poorly managed, and I broadly support both. They should exist in tandem. I am pro-accredited zoo and am extremely sensitive towards misinformation. I also do think the best place for animals to be is in their natural environment, but nature "preserves" aren't inherently perfect. They can also be prone to the capitalist (and colonialist) pressures that less informed people believe they're somehow immune to.

Because of the goal of my project being to make the setting of WC accurate to Northwestern England, my research is based on UK laws, ecology, and conservation programs.

On Zoos

On Nature Reserves

An Aside on Fortress Conservation

On Zoos

The legal definition of a Zoo in the UK (because that is what BB's ecological education is based around), as defined by the Zoo Licensing Act of 1981 (ZLA), is a "place where wild animals are kept for exhibition to the public," excluding circuses and pet shops (which are covered by different laws.)

This applies equally to private, for-profit zoos, as well as zoos run by wildlife charities and conservation organizations. Profit does not define a zoo. If there's a place trying to tell you it's not a zoo but a "sanctuary" or a "wildlife park," but you can still go visit and see captive wild animals, even if it's totally free, it's a marketing trick. Legally that is still a zoo in the UK.

(for fellow Americans; OUR definition is broader, more patchwork because we are 50 little countries in a trenchcoat, and can include collections of animals not displayed to the public.)

That said, there's a HUGE difference between Chester Zoo, run by the North of England Zoological Society, which personally holds the studbooks for maintaining the genetic diversity of 10 endangered species, has 134 captive breeding projects, cultivates 265 threatened plant species, and sends its members as consultants to United Nations conferences on climate change, and Sam Tiddles' Personal Zebra Pit.

Sam Tiddles' Personal Zebra Pit ONLY has to worry about the UK government. There's another standard zoos can hold themselves to if they want to get serious about conservation like Chester Zoo; Accreditation. There are two major zoo organizations in the UK, BIAZA and EAZA.

(Americans may wonder about AZA; that's ours. AZA, EAZA, and BIAZA are all members of the World Association of Aquariums and Zoos, or WAZA, but they are all individual organizations.)

A zoo going for EAZA's "accreditation" has to undergo an entire year of evaluation to make sure they fit the strict standards, and renewal is ongoing. You don't just earn it once. You have to keep your animal welfare up-to-date and in compliance or you will lose it.

The benefit of joining with an accredited org is that it puts the zoo into a huge network of other organizations. They work together for various conservation efforts.

There are DOZENS of species that were prevented from going extinct, and are being reintroduced back to their habitats, because of the work done by zoos. The scimitar-horned oryx, takhi, California condor, the Galapagos tortoise, etc. Some of these WERE extinct in the wild and wouldn't BE here if it hadn't been for zoos!

The San Diego zoo is preventing the last remaining hawaiian crows from embracing oblivion right now, a species for which SO LITTLE of its wild behavior is known they had to write the book on caring for them, and Chester zoo worked in tandem with the Uganda Wildlife Authority to provide tech and funding towards breakthroughs in surveying wild pangolins.

Don't get me wrong;

MOST zoos are not accredited,

nor is accreditation is REQUIRED to make a good zoo,

nor does it automatically PROVE nothing bad has happened in the zoo,

There are a lot more Sam Tiddles' Personal Zebra Pits than there are Chester Zoos.

That's worth talking about! We SHOULD be having conversations on things like,

Is it appropriate to keep and breed difficult, social megafauna, like elephants or cetaceans? What does the data say? Are there any circumstances where that would be okay, IF the data does confirm we can never provide enough space or stimulation to perfectly meet those species' needs?

How can we improve animal welfare for private zoos? Should we tighten up regulations on who can start or run one (yes)? Are there enough inspectors (no)?

Do those smaller zoos meaningfully contribute to better conservation? How do we know if they are properly educating their visitors? Can we prove this one way or the other?

Who watches the watchmen? Accreditation societies hold themselves accountable. Do these organizations truly have enough transparency?

(I don't agree with Born Free's ultimate conclusion that we should "phase out" zoos, but you should always understand the opposing arguments)

But bottom line of my opinion is; Good zoos are deeply important, and they have a tangible benefit to wildlife conservation. Anyone who tries to tell you that "zoos are inherently unethical" either knows very little about zoos or real conservation work, or... is hiding some deeper, more batshit take, like "having wild animals in any kind of captivity is unlawful imprisonment."

(you'll also get a lot more work done in regulating the exotic animal trade in the UK if you go after private owners, btw. zoos have nothing to do with how lax those laws are.)

Anyway I'm a funny cat blog about battle kitties, and the stuff I do for BB is to educate about the ecosystem of Northern England. If you want to know more about zoos, debunking misconceptions, and critiques from someone with more personal experience, go talk to @why-animals-do-the-thing!

Keep in mind though, again, they talk about American zoos, where this post was written with the UK in mind.

(and even then, England specifically. ALL UK members and also the Isle of Man have differences in their laws.)

(If anyone has other zoo education tumblr blogs in mind, especially if they are European, lmk and I'll edit this post)

On Nature Reserves

Remember how broad the legal definition of a zoo actually was? Same thing over here. A "nature reserve" in the UK is a broad, unofficial generic term for several things. It doesn't inherently involve statutory protection, either, meaning there's some situations where there's no laws to hold anyone accountable for damage

These are the "nature reserve" types relevant to my project; (NOTE: Ramsar sites, SACs, and SPAs are EU-related and honestly, I do not know how Brexit has effected them, if at all, so I won't be explaining something I don't understand.)

Local Wildlife Site (LWS) Selected via scientific survey and managed locally, connecting wildlife habitats together and keeping nature close to home. VERY important... and yet, incredibly prone to destruction because there aren't good reporting processes in place. Whenever a report comes out every few years, the Wildlife Trust says it often only gets data for 15% of all their registered sites, and 12% get destroyed in that timeframe.

Local Nature Reserve (LNR) A site that can be declared by a district or county council, if proven to have geographic, educational, biodiversity, or recreational value. The local authority manages this, BUT, the landowner can remain in control of the property and "lease" it out (and boy oh boy, landowners do some RIDICULOUS things)

National Nature Reserve (NNR) This is probably closest to what you think of when someone says "nature reserve." Designated by Natural England to protect significant habitat ranges and geographic formations, but still usually operates in tandem with private land owners who must get consent if they want to do something potentially damaging to the NNR.

Site of Special Scientific Interest (SSSI) (pronounced Triple S-I) A conservation designation for a particular place, assessed and defined by Natural England for its biological or geographic significance. SSSIs are protected areas, and often become the basis for NNRs, LNRs, Ramsar sites, SACs, SPAs, etc.

So you probably noticed that 3/4 of those needed to have the private ownership problem mentioned right in the summary, and it doesn't end there. Even fully government-managed NNRs and SSSIs work with the private sectors of forestry, tourism, and recreation.

We live under Capitalism; EVERYTHING has a profit motive, not just zoos.

I brushed over some of those factors in my Moorland Research Notes and DESPERATELY tried to stay succinct with them, but it was hard. The things that can happen to skirt around the UK's laws protecting wildlife could make an entire season of Monty Python sketches.

Protestors can angrily oppose felling silver birch (a "weed" in this context which can change the ecosystem) because it made a hike less 'pretty' and they don't understand heath management.

Management can be reluctant to ban dogs and horses for fear of backlash, even as they turn heath to sward before our eyes.

Reserves can be owned by Count Bloodsnurt who thinks crashing through the forest with a pack of dogs to exhaust an animal to death is a profitable traditional British passtime.

Or you can literally just pretend that you accidentally chased a deer for several hours and then killed it while innocently sending your baying hounds down a trail. (NOTE: I am pro-hunting, but not pro-animal cruelty.)

The Forestry Commission can slobber enthusiastically while replacing endangered wildlife habitats with non-native, invasive sitka spruce plantations, pretending most trees are equal while conveniently prioritizing profitable timber species.

I have STORIES to tell about the absolute Looney Tunes bullshit that's going on between conservationists and rich assholes who want to sell grouse hunting access, but I'll leave it at this fascinating tidbit about air guns and mannequins which are "totally, absolutely there for no nefarious reason at all, certainly not to prevent marsh harriers from nesting in an area where they also keep winding up mysteriously killed in illegal snares, no no no"

BUT. Since Nature Reserve isn't a hard defined legal concept, and any organization could get involved in local conservation in the UK, and just about anyone or anything could own one... IT'S CHESTER ZOO WITH THE STEEL CHAIR!!

They received a grant in 2021 to restore habitat to a stretch of 10 miles extending outside of their borders, working with TONS of other entities such as local government and conservation charities in the process. There's now 6,000 square meters of restored meadow, an orchard, new ponds, and maintained reedbeds, because of them.

It isn't just Chester Zoo, either. It's all over the UK. Durrel Wildlife, which runs Jersey Zoo, just acquired 18,500 acres to rewild in Perthshire. Citizen Zoo is working with the Beaver Trust to bring beavers back to London and is always looking for volunteers to help with their river projects, and the Edinburgh Zoo is equipped with gene labs being used to monitor and analyze the remaining populations of non-hybrid Scottish Wildcats.

The point being,

Nature preserves have problems too. They are not magical fairy kingdoms that you put up a fence around and then declare you Saved Nature Hooray! They need to be protected. They need to be continuously assessed. They are prone to capitalist pressures just like everything else on this hell planet. Go talk to my boy Karl he'll give you a hug about it.

"Nature Preserves" are NOT an "alternative" to zoos and vice versa. They do not do the same thing. A zoo is a center of education and wildlife research which displays exotic animals. A nature preserve is a parcel of native ecosystem. We need LOTS of nature preserves and we need them well-managed ASAP.

We could never just "replace" zoos with nature preserves, and we're nowhere near the amount of protected ecosystem space to start thinking of scaling back animals in captivity. Until King Arthur comes out of hibernation to save Britain, that's the world we live in.

An Aside

My project and my research is based on the isle of Great Britain. The more I learn about the ecosystems that are naturally found there, the more venomously I reject the old lie, "humans are a blight."

YOU are an animal. You're a big one, too. You know what the role of big animals in an ecosystem are? Change. Elephants knock over trees, wolves alter the course of rivers, bison fertilize the plains from coast-to-coast. In Great Britain, that's what hominids have done for 900,000 years, their populations ebbing and flowing with every ice age.

Early farming created the moors and grazing sheep and cattle maintain it, hosting hundreds of specialist species. Every old-growth forest has signs of ancient coppicing and pollarding, which create havens for wildlife when well-managed. Corn cockle evolved as a mimic of wheat seeds, so farmers would plant it over and over within their fields.

This garbage idea that humans are somehow "separate" from or "above" nature is poison. It's not true ANYWHERE.

It contributes to an idea that our very presence is somehow damaging to natural spaces, and to "protect" it, we have to completely leave it alone. NO! Absolutely NOT! There are places where we have to limit harvesting and foot traffic, but humans ALWAYS lived in nature.

Even the ecosystems that this mindset comes from rejects it, but this shit doesn't JUST get applied to British people who become alienated and disconnected from their surroundings to the point where they don't know what silver birch does.

It's DEADLY for the indigenous people who protect 80% of our most important ecosystems.

It's a weapon against the Maasai people, stopped from hunting or growing crops on their own land. It's violence for 9 San hunters shot at by a helicopter with a "kill poachers on-sight" policy, as one of the world's LARGEST diamond mines operates in the same motherfucking park. The Havasupai people are kept out of the Grand Canyon that they managed for generations because they might "collect too many nuts" and starve squirrels, Dukha reindeer herders suddenly get banned from chopping wood or fishing, and watch wolves decimate their animals in the absence of their herding dogs.

It's nightmare after nightmare of human displacement in the name of "conservation."

That all ties back to that mindset. This idea that nature is pure, "pristine," and should be totally untouched. There are some starting to call it Fortress Conservation.

You can't begin to understand the criticisms of modern conservation without acknowledging that we are still living under the influence of capitalism and colonialism. Those who fixate on speaking for "animals/nature/trees who don't have a voice" often seem to have no interest in the indigenous people who do.

Listen. There's no simple answer; and the solution will vary for each region.

Again, my project is within the UK, one of the most ecologically devastated areas in the world. There are bad zoos that the law allows a pass. There are incredible zoos that are vital to conservation, in and outside of the country. There's not enough nature preserves. The best ones that exist are often exploited for profit.

I hope that my silly little blog sparks an interest in a handful of people to understand more about their own local ecosystems, and teaches folks about the unique beauty even within a place as "boring" as England.

But, my straightforward statement is that I have no patience for nonconstructive, broad zoo slander that lumps together ALL of them, and open contempt for anyone who tries to sell nature preserves like a perfect, morally superior "alternative." We need them BOTH right now, and we need to acknowledge that zoos AND preserves have legal and ethical issues that aren't openly talked about.

#ALSO THAT GUIDE IVE BEEN WORKING ON IS DONE #Im just waiting for the input of the sensitivity readers bc I made a whole section on--#How ableis m might express in the different clans #And part of it became a thunder-callout post lmaooooo #Also this zoo doc has been sitting competed in my drafts for a while #All this to say that uh. I hope the strange place they visit in the upcoming se is not a zoo :J #I will hit it with a golf club if it is <3 #Leaning heavily towards the 'oh no two DEMIGODS ended up in a zoo' idea #Which is objectively funnier #And you know what else is objectively funny. When these posts break orbit and then ppl are surprised that i am a kitty cat blog #Hal. It's about Cats.#Bone Babble

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enterwittyjokehere · 2 months

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Ghosts of the Past

[Fujin x revenant! Afab reader smut]

[⚠️Warnings⚠️]

[Afab reader]

[No pronouns used]

[Heavy smut 18+ only]

[Multiple org*sms]

[Oral afab receiving]

[Fingering]

[Semi- teratophila]

Fujin remembered your life together with fondness, it was what led him to visit Earthrealm and learn more about the people you had come from.

Being a God and essentially immortal, he knew the two of you would not last long from the beginning of your relationship. However, that did not stop the passion the two of you had held for each other.

Fujin missed you in every way since you were ripped away from him. He missed finding scratches littering his back, he missed you reading your favorite classic literature to him, he missed you.

He often got these somber reminders when he would see people who looked like you, other humans, with similar features.

Something small like your hair color or your eyes, although, for the past few days, it had been almost like a cruel prank. He swore he was seeing humans who looked exactly like you, not just with your hair or eyes. But you.

He could easily shake these feelings away clearly it wasn't you. You had been taken from him decades ago, besides you never had that sinister aura about you.

You had always been kind and cute, unlike this spectre following him around earthrealm. When it happened again, this time the feeling of dreadful deja vu had him almost inebriated with a mix of dread and confusion.

Sitting in a coffee shop, similar to one you would take him to, the dull imposter walking into the line. The familiar feeling of being watched took over his senses, he glanced up and the lookalike quickly removed their stare.

Now, being the best look fujin had gotten of the mimic, he could easily see the cracking skin and dull grey completion. He knew what was going on, but he couldn't bring himself to accept it. Why would anyone bring you back?

To haunt him?

To track him down and do elder gods know what with him?

Necromancy was frowned upon for a reason, he grabbed his drink along with the book he had buried his nose in and left through the side door.

Whatever sick game someone was playing fujin had already decided he would not be a part of it.

The entire rest of the day, the wind God was on edge, feeling at any moment he could be ambushed. He went home, he had found a house similar to the one you and him had shared all that time ago. Still living quaintly even though he could do much better, fujin had come to enjoy the more quiet life.

As the day settled into night, Fujin's mind had also settled, fear no longer tormented his waking consciousness. As he laid out spread on his large bed, reading a book, he had surely read a hundred times before.

A noise from the deep recesses of the house stirred him, almost immediately he searched, looking for the cause of the sound.

His heart beat pounded in his head, “Hello?”

Fujin's call was not met with an answer, he laughed to himself, licking his trembling lips as he mumbled, “Come now, Fujin, you're being foolish. There's nothing here.”

Turning on his heel, he gasped and stumbled back when a dark and demented figure stood directly behind him. It was you. Well, not you you. It was your revenant, an undead version of you, only alive due to necromancy.

“Why do you run from me, Fujin?” Your voice was eerily monotone, it sent shivers down Fujin's spine.

“I am not playing this disgusting game.” Fujin declared pushing past you, in an attempt to leave the conversation.

The sound of your voice quickly turned him around, “Fujin, please, I want not to harm you, my gentle love.”

Disgust filled Fujin's senses, but at the very base, happiness sprung from hearing your pet name for him. It had been so long since he had heard those words.

“You're not… you. You're a revenant, I am not so foolish as to not know that you no longer have feelings.” His words were spat at you, a frown donned your features.

“What can I say, love, even in death, my heart longs for you.” You approached him, placing your cold dead hand on his shoulder, “I'm breaking a lot of rules by being here right now.”

Fujin’s eyes flicked to you, your dull grey completion and cracking skin did little to convince Fujin that it wasn't you. Giving him a soft smile, that only retracted when your hand did as well, “but if you no longer feel the same, perhaps I'll go back to the netherrealm, do whatever it is that Liu Kang and Kitana have planned for me.”

The words you spoke, accompanied by how hoarse your voice sounded, drew Fujin in, you sounded sick, ill, nothing Fujin hadn't already seen.

“Wait, no…” Fujin said, taking your hands into his own, “if what you say is true, you're not after me… why have you come here.”

Your eyes dropped to the ground beneath your feet, “I was sent to spy on your brother, while doing that he mentioned you still living among the humans in earthrealm… at first I was jealous, I'll admit, I thought you had found a new love.”

Fujin's heart swam at the thought of you being jealous, he had missed you dearly, living among the earthrealmers proved that much.

“I, originally, came here to see for myself, to see if you had… replaced me, and then you kept running from me… It hurt me, Fujin, I only wanted answers. From the moment I was resurrected, you were the only thing on my mind.”

Fujin's soft smile covered his face, “Oh my precious wind flower, how I have missed you.”

As his strong arms enveloped you, fujin pulled you closer, kissing you slowly. A whine left the wind God's mouth as you pulled away from the embrace, “Fujin, you mustn't tease me, it's been so long.”

You tugged on the fabric of Fujin's top, his hands resting on your hips as a pensive smile adorned his bright features, “My dearest one, you are absolutely correct, we have much time to make up.”

Fujin began an assault on your neck, biting and kissing the sensitive area, your lifeless hands reaching up to pull at his hair.

“Come, we shouldn't waste more time.” Fujin said, taking your hand, placing delicate kisses to the cracking, grey flesh.

“Lead the way, my sweet breeze.”

Fujin took you to the bedroom, large and decorated beautifully, almost reminiscent of the room you had when you were alive…

“F-Fujin?”

“It's no coincidence, I see things I think you would like so I bring them home… old habits die hard…” He answered almost as if he could read your mind, although if he could read your mind, you wouldn't have gotten this close.

“It's perfect, Fujin, absolutely and wonderfully perfect.” You smiled, and almost for a second, Fujin was back with you, back before you died, happily living his immortal days in a quiet and happy town. Lazing around on the weekends and traveling around with you during the week, the small and trivial things that should not have mattered to a God, yet they made him undeniably happy.

“Like you, my dearest one.” He said, moving to kiss you, his weight on top of you pushing you onto the bed.

The fluffy comforter rose around your body, framing you beautifully, Fujin pulled back to admire you. Smiling to himself, he licked his lips, “I've missed you, your absence drained me so, to be in your light again, makes me happier than I have been in the last few decades.”

“Always the sweet talker, Fujin.”

Hands traced down your hips, digging into the trousers you wore, feeling your flesh against his own. Fujin let out a soft whimper, “May I?”

“Please.” You nodded, taking the opportunity Fujin stripped you of your pants, tossing them to the side, staring at your body like a starved man looking at a great feast.

His hands rubbed the flesh of your leg, pulling it up onto his shoulder as he toyed with your clothed core. Shuddering as the pleasure ran through you, your mind stumbled across thoughts.

Fujin moved your underwear aside to insert his fingers, thrusting them into you quickly. He watched as you squirmed beneath him, his free hand massaging the doughy flesh of your thigh. The eyes of the God peered into you, fully enjoying the display you were putting on.

“Fujin-!” The building feeling of ecstasy clouded your mind, your hips involuntarily grinding against his large fingers.

“Yes, my darling, just like that.” His fingers began to curl the pads of Fujin's fingers stroking the sensitive area.

A small simper moved to his face as he pushed your legs further apart, pressing a kiss to your cl*t. Before he began to rub the small bundle of nerves, the wet massaging feeling made you see stars as you bucked and moaned.

“Fujin, please-!” You cried, breathless and needy, your eyes were glossed over in pure ecstasy.

Fujin moved his hand before replacing it with his mouth once more, suckling sweetly on the nerves, erupting more of a response from your hoarse voice. His now free hand moved back over to tug softly on your thigh, his hand grabbing and pinching at the sensitive skin.

Slightly moving away from your cl*t, he spoke pushing air on the sensitive nerves as he did, “Patience…”

He continued teasing the button, his tongue licking it and moving his lips around it to gently suckle on it. That combined with the movement of his hands was amazing, you swore under your breath as that all familiar tightening got closer and closer to snapping.

Fujin moaned against your clit sending shockwaves through you, your core tensed around his fingers. Fujin pumped his fingers into you, pumping you through your orgasm, stopping as overstimulation faded in.

Fujin's face was removed first, followed by his fingers, pulling away from you. Your own hand moved to hold your cl*t, your hips jerking as you did, “F**k, Fujin.”

A laugh erupted from him, earning your attention, “Oh my sweet dear, I am all but finished.”

It was Fujin's turn to remove his trousers, you leaned on onto your arms to watch. Fujin undressed himself, completely looking to you. He motioned for you to remove your own shirt.

“Come get it off me.” You teased, Fujin licked his lips before pouncing onto the bed, he hovered over you, kissing you gently. His hands settled at the hem of your garment, breaking the kiss to slip it off.

The shirt Fujin wrestled off you was discarded, tossed to the side, he set back to look at you. Now completely exposed to him, he held his p*n*s in his hand, pumping it slowly.

Prec*m leaked from the red tip, your body ached for him, your core subconsciously closing around nothing, wanting him. Fujin could tell how needy you were, squirming around beneath him, like you hadn't already had an org*sm.

A deep breath released from Fujin as he moved to bend down over you, his hands settling on your hips. “You're too good for me, my love.”

You shook your head, smiling, although every inch of your consciousness told you, you had no right to smile. Not after what you were sent here to do.

He gently pushed himself deep into you, your legs wrapping around his waist, “wait, wait, Fujin.”

“Take your time.” He said, patting your leg, reassuringly.

After a few moments passed, you had adjusted and your body craved more, “O-Okay, I think I'm good Fujin.”

His glowing eyes lighting up as you spoke, his hands found your hips once more as he made sloppy thrusts inside of you. His grip on your hips was gentle as though you were fragile and yet the force of his thrusts were enough to hit the very back of your core.

Fujin was getting so close, so quickly to that special place, he grunted as he f**ked you. Moving down to place kisses along your neck, your small and cold hands found his hair. Tugging gently on the base of it, nearest to the scalp, he bit down on your skin, bite marks left up and down your body.

Once Fujin hit that already more sensitive spot in the back of your body, he slammed into it. Throwing you into your second climax, it wasn't long before the squeezing milked Fujin to his as well, he groaned and swore as he delivered sloppy thrusts, pushing his seed deep into you. It being the only life in your body.

After you had both come down from your climaxes, Fujin pulled out, collapsing on the bed beside you. Only then did the thought enter his mind, “What happens now?”

“I suppose I will report back to Liu Kang and Kitana…” You spoke, your hoarse voice was now normal to the wind god, “staying here would only endanger you and the rest of earthrealm.”

“I could protect you, me and Raiden are-”

“Your brother is not the same one you've always known. Fujin, he is different now.” You informed him.

“You should stay.” Fujin's words were mumbled, grumpily.

“I wish I could, my sweet. I'll stay for the night, but you being safe is my top priority, Fujin.” You spoke matter-of-factly.

Fujin let out a gruff, “Will I get to see you again?”

Your glowing red eyes traced over Fujin's face, “If the winds allow.”

When it was time for the morning to rise, you were about to leave, Fujin had just gotten up to get ready. He walked back into the room, frowning at you, “this is really it?”

“For now, Fujin. For now.”

You left reporting back to Neverrealm, Liu Kang and Kitana were not pleased about your lack of information on the Wind God.

“What do you mean, you couldn't find him on earthrealm?”

“Your intel must have been incorrect, Liu Kang, for everywhere I looked I could not find Raiden's brother.”

Liu Kang swore, red eyes peering into you, luckily he too could not read minds.

#mortal kombat #mk11 #lord fujin #mk fujin #fujin x reader #x reader #mk smut #gay #queer author #mortal kombat smut #fujin mk smut

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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year

Text

Universities secretly sold their students to online casinos

End-stage capitalism’s defining characteristic is making money rather than making things. Think of how Jack Welch destroyed GE by transforming it from a manufacturing company to a financial engineering shop:

https://the.ink/p/like-capitalism-itself-business-journalism

Hospitals are invoice-generating factories with a sideline in medicine. The electronic health record only incidentally records your health. Its primary purpose is to record your billing-codes:

https://www.beckershospitalreview.com/ehrs/physicians-spending-nearly-2-hours-a-day-on-ehr-tasks-outside-work.html

And universities? Ugh. Most universities now have more administrators than faculty:

https://www.jamesgmartin.center/2022/08/administrative-bloat-harms-teaching-and-learning/

Much of that “administration” comes down to begging alums for money to funnel into vast endowments, but heaven forfend those endowments would be used to cover payroll and other essentials, even in a pandemic emergency:

https://www.forbes.com/sites/reneemorad/2020/04/21/harvard-under-fire-for-accepting-nearly-9-million-in-coronavirus-relief-funds/

Nor are endowment funds available to pay the education workers who actually teach students, but can’t afford the rent, food, or family:

https://www.capradio.org/articles/2022/11/14/nearly-50000-university-of-california-graduate-student-employees-launch-open-ended-strike/

The point of the endowment is to increase the size of the endowment — not to improve educational outcomes or research. That’s why Harvard is “A hedge fund that has a university”:

https://www.wsj.com/articles/a-hedge-fund-that-has-a-university-1510615228

This is the overwhelming logic of capital: capital exists to increase capital, and the underlying mechanism for that increase is irrelevant. This was the reasoning behind the surreal bid to sell the .ORG nonprofit registry to a secretive hedge-fund.

The point of the .ORG registry is to host domain records for nonprofits; incidentally, this throws off some extra money that is turned into grants for public interest projects. The board decided to sell off .ORG so it could make more of these grants, despite the fact that this would compromise the mission of hosting .ORG domain records:

https://www.eff.org/press/releases/org-domain-registry-sale-ethos-capital-rejected-stunning-victory-public-interest

Likewise, this was the reasoning of the Mountain Equipment Co-Op board when they decided to sell off the member-owned co-op (“the most trusted brand in Canada”) to a US private equity fund without consulting the members:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/16/spike-lee-joint/#casse-le-mec

The expand-capital-at-all-costs mindset is a virulent species of brain worms. It’s the basis for surreal movements like effective altruism, which encourages people who want to do good for the world to sell out to the most toxic industries on Earth, amass gigantic fortunes, and then, upon their death, donate them to causes that in some way remediate the harms they themselves wreaked:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Earning_to_give

In his new book Survival of the Richest, Douglas Rushkoff calls this “The Mindset” — “I need to make vast amounts of money, no matter what the consequences, or I will not be able to afford to insulate myself from the consequences of how I made all that money”:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/09/13/collapse-porn/#collapse-porn

Once you let people with The Mindset anywhere near your institution, they will take it over and turn it into a paperclip-maximizing killing machine, one that abandons and then betrays its mission to increase its profits, eventually killing its host. Anything that can’t go on forever will eventually stop:

https://doctorow.medium.com/anything-that-cant-go-on-forever-will-eventually-stop-110ba9711133

That’s what’s happened to higher ed. It’s not just the payroll full of starving adjuncts, facilities workers, etc. It’s not just the way that universities join forces with textbook monopolists to gouge their students:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/10/07/markets-in-everything/#textbook-abuses

Beyond academics having to rely on food-stamps, students going into lifetime debt to enrich predatory textbook monopolies, and the other horrors of financialized higher ed, there’s the special evil of college sports.

Like all finance-bro motivated reasoning, college sports are sold as a way to do well by doing good: “Look! We’re giving poor people a chance at a great education based on their physical prowess, and we’re racking up tons of money for the university!”

But — like all finance schemes — college sports is a self-licking ice-cream cone that destroys the lives of the people who generate value for it, even as it devours its host institution from within.

Did you know that until very recently, college athletes weren’t allowed to make a penny from their labor?

https://www.scotusblog.com/2021/06/in-unanimous-ruling-court-agrees-with-athletes-that-ncaa-violated-antitrust-laws/

Did you know that those same athletes experience lifelong brain injuries?

https://jamanetwork.com/journals/jamanetworkopen/fullarticle/2791303

Did you know that college sports are a cesspit of long-term, officially tolerated sexual abuse?

https://www.theguardian.com/sport/2021/nov/30/ohio-state-michigan-doctors-sexual-abuse-college-football

Did you know that the highest paid public employee in many states is a football coach at a state college?

https://www.profootballnetwork.com/highest-paid-college-football-coaches-2022/

Did you know that college coaches conspired with the rich parents to steal sport-related admission slots from poor kids and give them to mediocre winners of the orifice-lottery?

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Varsity_Blues_scandal

In many universities — whether public or private — the sports program effectively runs the show. Take the University of New Hampshire: back in 2016, a university librarian named Robert Morin left his life’s savings to the school after 50 years of service. Morin lived frugally for that half century and amassed a personal fortune of $4m.

He believed so deeply in the university’s mission that he turned it all over to the school without any restrictions. Talk about earning to give! The university blew Morin’s gift on a new jumbotron for their sports stadium:

https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/morning-mix/wp/2016/09/16/university-to-buy-1-million-football-scoreboard-with-thrifty-librarians-money-outraging-critics/

The people who see universities as inconvenient adjuncts to exploitative sports teams know that there are still rivals within higher ed who think the point of the school is to educate students.

That’s why the universities that arranged to allow sports gambling websites to target the young people in their care did so in secret.

https://www.nytimes.com/2022/11/20/business/caesars-sports-betting-universities-colleges.html?unlocked_article_code=AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACEIPuonUktbfqYhlSVUZAybfQMMmqBCdnr_EybEnj2XlaTONTixe1KEfDpSc-kHCILdlZsU-xS-aWN5MK_okQ_h2w-BSJAptVwys6NOiqagyHh8U-8i1T39kmNXER6w5-jvnKWDmIe5ymOTn-hvbbzH1XKzbg2lxIVpvvZY2d12t3yMDwKmVFfVnmYUrhYdXDZ54TT8KZiWY7bK_W1glZoLwPlyL4RI2WupZRTnQgdWfjrsCew5TAl7FJ2httSd-sJgPfYNKY9usakIoa8H8gr4OCmd3LYvPBpQ5RILck70Coqf9dPDE9RFVhqXegnp2EK4F

Writing for the New York Times, Anna Betts, Andrew Little, Elizabeth Sander, Alexandra Tremayne-Pengelly and Walt Bogdanich reveal the extraordinary corruption and depravity of college administrators who colluded with sports book companies to bring gambling to campus.

Implicated in the scandal are such top schools as Michigan State, U Colorado Bolder, Louisiana State, Syracuse and Texas Christian Univeristy (mission: “to educate individuals to think and act as ethical leaders and responsible citizens”).

On the casino side, the major player is Caesar’s, which is only fitting — Caesar’s was driven to bankruptcy by private equity who managed to financialize a casino into ruin:

https://www.ft.com/content/a0ed27c6-a2d4-11e7-b797-b61809486fe2

Caesar’s offered universities millions of dollars for the right to directly sports betting to students. The MSU deal, brokered by university officials Paul Schager and Alan Haller, was worth $8.4m. That is to say, Caesar’s was asking the university to help it drain at least $8.4m from students’ bank accounts in order to turn a profit.

Louisiana State U did a similar deal with Caesar’s, and then embarked on a direct marketing campaign to sell sports gambling to students who were too young to legally place a bet.

LSU says this was a mistake. Cody Worsham, a university official who holds two offices — associate athletic director and chief brand officer (!!) — said that Caesar’s and LSU “share a commitment to responsible, age-appropriate marketing.”

Meanwhile, U Colorado Boulder struck a deal where it earned a $30 bounty every time a student went from non-gambler to gambler — in other words, Boulder didn’t make money by advertising gambling to students — it made money only if its students started gambling.

These student gambling programs are designed to keep children betting even if they lose money, with teaser offers that refund some losses if students keep placing bets.

This is obviously unsavory stuff. That’s why the architects of these programs went to enormous lengths to keep it secret. The state schools involved funneled their deals through private marketing agencies that were shielded from FOIA requests, specifically to prevent the public from learning how public universities were conducting their affairs.

As MSU executive associate athletic director Paul Schager put it: “With the multimedia rights holder, public institutions like Michigan State no longer have to disclose all those sponsorship deals. This helps with the sponsors being able to spend what they feel is appropriate without having the public or employees or stockholders question that investment.”

The deals themselves are far-reaching. As part of MSU’s Caesar’s deal, tailgate parties before big games would be “Caesarized,” with the casino providing ad-copy for the live announcers to read to attendees. As a figleaf, $25,000 of the millions that MSU received from Caesar’s was earmarked for gambling addiction education.

The deals weren’t just kept secret from the public — they were also hidden from top university oversight. At UC Bolder, the Board of Regents was informed of the deal mere hours before it was announced to the public.

These deals have only been running for a couple months and it’s too soon to chart the long-term harms they’ll create in the student body. But, the Times* notes, there is an one harm that surfaced almost immediately: student athletes are now subject to vicious abuse by their fellow students, who lose money they can’t afford when their peers lose a game.

[Image ID: A gaudy casino floor. In the foreground is a figure in college graduation robes giving a double thumbs-up. His head is a grinning skull with a mortarboard.]

#pluralistic

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survivalist-anon · 12 days

Text

Log 2: Living Under a Rock

It's been a week since my drop-off at the hospital....no surprise I've been having trouble sleeping, I got some work leave from my boss at the nature reserve.....god damn I'm fucking tired.

Local folks both new to the town and old friends have been pandering for questions.

Some of the local middle schoolers kept fallowing me to my work place asking me about the metal guy. I simply told them I shot him in the eye, than he exploded.....I wasn't expecting those annoying brats to tell other kids about it. Obviously the local pastor (Mark) has been sending his goons to come to my cabin to convince me to come to church for the sake of saving my soul and all that "lovely" jazz. I told them I literally may have met the devil, shot him in the eye, exploded , and now he's dead and thus to leave me alone.

Some folks are a little more respectful and just ask me about more personal things. Got recommended a therapist who just moved to town named Miss Jenny Oakley, nice lady, smiles all the time and has an impressive 3 PhDs in psychology and mental health medication. She's been helping me get through the whole thing and believes I'll be able to make a speedy recovery. She trusts my resolve and that's good in my book.

....now "Newly appointed Deputy" Jeff (my ex-boyfriend) apparently thinks he can just give me the presidential treatment. He keeps following my car EVERYWHERE. I feel like nuisance now this has happened, people keep staring at me when Jeff just follows me at this point. You'd think after our falling out he'd have the self respect to be a little less...creepy about it. He's stopped by my cabin to keep checking up on me....I wonder if he thinks it's going to be like in the movies where estranged lovers get back together if something happens....jokes on him... I do not need a guy who has tried to convince me to move to Ohio and insult my family's cultural background to boot. Asshole.

Anyways, I've been hanging out at this new coffee shop that's just opened up...it's cozy, sells actual homemade pastries and the coffee is pretty good. Finally, a nice third place. I've noticed more people around my age go there too .... however I've noticed one group constantly eyeing me from across the shop every time I go...they call themselves the "Marine Spotters"...I have no fucking idea what that intels, one of them came up to my table, had the audacity to sit down in front of me like he knew me.....

"So..........you saw one?", the unshaven neck beard asked.

".......you know you could have asked to sit down and I would have said yes but fine go off Gabe Newell.", I'm not usually this hostile but things have gotten tense for while....I wouldn't blame anyone for being upset at me for it either.

"heheh very funny, anyway, my name is Benedict Grabowski. I'm the local expert in these "big metal men "....I see based on your description you've seen a "Black Legion" marine. A level 3 on the danger scale and are quite rare in these parts.", he adjusts his glasses. "The fact you even survived a harrowing encounter with one is without a doubt a life achievement and a free ticket admission to our organization!", handing me a business card with some edgy cartoon spaceman, it had his phone number, email address and an actual address...it was the abandoned mineral mine not too far from the animal reserve I work at....

"I hope your membership will prove to be of great use to us.", concluding with a smug look on his jolly face.

I sat there ready to throw this guy from window I was seated next to....but I'm certain the shop owners wouldn't be too pleased.

".....why the .org?"

He acted confused, "I beg your pardon?".

"...the .org....on your email address....you don't work for the Tillamook station do you? I told them I don't know shit.", took a frustrated sip of my coffee.

He laid back, "well...I...what one would call....a "white hat hacker"....my services in online server hacking, government surveillance and hehe...not to brag...a national code cracking champion of the Tokyo Code Breaker competition. I actually am...not a huge fan of our corporate federal overlords and I only desire for their inevitable downfall through me tanking their stocks."...

I literally was sitting across to a felon....

"so ..with your epic survival skills, my tech mastery and my collaborators", he points to his original table of collected individuals; a heavyset goth girl, the kid of one of the local beef farmers and one creepy guy I remember being the weird kid in highschool.

"Hi Steven.", I wave to him.

"Hi Lorey!", he waves and gives his creepy grin that in through literally means nothing to me. He does it for a cheap bit that I'm certain Jeff already knows and is dieing to catch him for something.

By this point Benedict was actually shocked I knew Steven. "What?! I thought you just moved here!"

I chuckled a little, "I use to live here, I know the area rather well but it's changed a bit since I was last here back in 2003. Also....what the shit is this all about?". I point to the business card.

His shocked expression transforms back into that stupid 'big shot cool guy' look. "Well, we spot those big metal men. Turns out....these anomalous entities are actually appearing throughout the whole planet. All of them of variety and....motives....". He looks around, takes out a folder of the ever lovable 'blurry photographic evidence' one would expect looking for cryptids. "Behold. Humanoids who walk amongst us!".

Im staring at the photos, one struck me to my core ....the big black and bronze one I saw being blown to chunks...the one that killed Grandpa.

"ah...I see...so it was that one.", leaning towards me closer....I can smell the fucking butter from his croissant he ate at his table. "If you need us...call us....", he decided to leave a second card....ok....."anyway, surprised?"

I was a lot more than surprised....I must have been living under a rock...."yeah....I am."

After that I decided to go home. On the ride back, I couldn't help but wonder if Benedict was telling the truth... about them being everywhere...that's a scary thought in all honesty.

I get out my car and took one long glance at my Grandpa's cabin. His only inheritance to my mom. When I said the funeral was a mess, it was an absolute garbage fire because on the same day we had his will reading. His most valuable possession in his will was this cabin, and boy was my aunt pissed she didn't get the property. At least Mom had the last laugh, anyway....as I was remembering that day....I noticed something that sent shivers up and down my spine.

A blood trail....it looked like it came from the forest behind the property, up the steps and on to my doormat. I get out of the car, cautiously, for I all know whom ever left this bloody mess is close by.

It was a huge leather sack, sealed tight with...a red wax in the opening. It was leaking a lot, I was hesitant to open it, but the blood smelt familiar. "....it can't be....", I tore off the hard wax, the gamey stink of deer was permeating throughout the porch. Opening the sack, I saw what could be weeks worth of meat. I was stunned! All nicely cut and cleaned ...I tried lifting the sack without getting some blood on me...failed...and brought it to the cellar freezer. As I placed the meat in the freezer, I saw there was a note on the bag I hadn't noticed....it was a handwritten note for certain....but I had no idea what was written on it. Again, Nordic ruins were present...but it was mixed with another language...I took medieval history a short while back and had the privilege of almost learning how to read medieval texts....it was close to it...and yet... completely unreadable for me.

I set the note on a table and save it for later.

Everything has been so strange lately.

The hours pass, and I finally decided to do some digging....this has to be some...real life ARG or something....it's either a dedicated group of cosplayers....or... something is really out there...it's so uncanny....

End of log 2

@kit-williams

#space marine husbandry #space marines #warhammer 40k #survival log

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fatehbaz · 1 year

Text

Caribbean cruise vacations have a long violent history. Earlier today, I came across one of the early print advertisement illustrations for the Caribbean cruise ship vacations offered by “the Great White Fleet.” And I pondered bananas.

Just as uncomfortable as it sounds. The story of the origin of the Caribbean cruise industry is, after all, also the story of the origin of the term “Banana Republic.”

In 1914, the Great War began as the planet’s powerful empires of old were collapsing, as British, French, Austro-Hungarian, Ottoman, Russian, and Qing/Chinese powers were marred by internal revolt and global warfare. But in 1914, the United States completed their Panama Canal and consolidated power in Latin America and the Caribbean, celebrating the ascent of a “new” empire made strong, in part, by bananas.

As of 2022, bananas generate 12 billion dollars per year, with 75% of bananas exported from Latin America and the Caribbean.

The planet’s single biggest banana-producing company is Chiquita. The Chiquita brand was previously known as United Fruit Company, which had essentially monopolized the banana industry in Latin America. United Fruit Company has a bit of an image problem, following its theft of Indigenous land across Central America in the early 20th century; its role in provoking the killing of tens of hundreds/thousands of plantation laborers during the Banana Massacre of 1928; the company’s direct role in the CIA-backed toppling of the Guatemala government in the 1950s; and the company’s role in paying to harass and intimidate labor organizers in Colombia in recent decades.

But what of the “romance” and “adventure” of the Caribbean?

So it’s 1915 or 1916.

Middle of the Great War. Classic empires are disintegrating: Spanish empire, British empire, Austro-Hungarian empire, Russian empire, Ottoman empire, remnants of the Qing/Chinese state, etc. And whose empire is rising? United States, an empire expanding in the Caribbean, Central America, and South America. After the 1898 Spanish-US war, as Teddy Roosevelt’s cartoon cavalry conquered Cuba, the Spanish Main belongs to the US of A. The US Navy controlled the Caribbean Sea, and was aiming to expand across the Pacific Ocean, to Hawai’i and beyond.

But the official US Navy isn’t the only fleet upholding the empire. The United Fruit Company had its own fleet.

The text of one of these Great White Fleet ads, from 1916, adorned with imagery of a blue-and-gold macaw and an aerial map of the Caribbean, reads:

“[W]here winter never comes and where the soft trade winds bring renewed health. [W]ith all the comforts and all the luxuries of life you enjoy aboard the palatial ships of the GREAT WHITE FLEET. Delicious meals a la carte [...]. Dainty staterooms, perfectly ventilated [...]. [A]mid the scenes of romance and history in the Caribbean. And with it the opportunity to win for yourself a treasure of health and happiness, of greater benefit than the fabled fountain of youth, sought by Spanish adventurers in the tropic isles of the Spanish Main.”

Who’s leading the charge?

The United Fruit Company!

From the May 1916 issue of Red Book. Image source, from Archive dot org:

Another:

Image source, from Archive dot org:

“There the Pirates hid their Gold -- and every voyage, every port, every route of the Great White Fleet through the Golden Caribbean has the romance of buried treasure, pirate ships an deeds of adventure [...].”

The Golden Caribbean.

The same region where Columbus murdered Indigenous people, where the US and France had just spent 100 years punishing Haiti with unending economic warfare afters slaves rebelled against colonization, and where the United Fruit Company would now set up shop.

The company’s plantations would expand across Central America, establishing brutal racial hierarchies and essentially controlling federal governments of Central American nations.

In 1928, over 30,000 laborers were on strike at banana plantations in Colombia. They demanded payment of actual wages, rather than the credits they were given which were mostly only redeemable at company-owned stores in company towns. The US government threatened to send the Marine Corps to intervene if the “subversive” workers would not return to UFC’s plantations. In December 1928, after martial law had been declared, General Cortes Vargas entered the town square of Cienaga (Magdalena) during Sunday gatherings, with machine guns, opening fire on the crowds, and killing perhaps 3,000 people.

In the late 1940s, the United Fruit Company intensified its ad campaigns led by propagandist Edward Bernays (nephew of Sigmund Freud???), who also practiced his skill at manipulative advertising when working to popularize the American Tobacco Company by showing women smoking “torches of freedom” and linking “women’s rights” to cigarette iconography.

Bernays, who explicitly wrote about his “counter-Communist” intention in the ads, was “drafted” in the war to topple ascendant leftist governments. After 1944 and after Arevalo’s labor reforms, Jacobo Arbenz Guzman took control of Guatemala in 1951, and took over 200,000 acres from United Fruit Company and returned them to poor families. Bernays launched propaganda attacks against Guatemala, helping to plant stories about Guatemala eventually carried in the Saturday Evening Post, New York Herald Tribune, and Reader’s Digest. In January 1952, Bernays personally led a tour of Central America, accompanying publishers and editors of Newsweek, the Miami Herald, the San Francisco Chronicle, the Cincinnati Enquirer, Scripps-Howard, and Time magazine. When the CIA-trained military force led by Carlos Castillo Armas invaded Guatemala, with CIA aerial support, installing Castillo Armas as president, Bernays called them an “army of liberation.”

Bananas and Caribbean cruises aren’t the only culprits in expanding imperial power in Latin America, the tropics, and the Global South.

In 1914, the same year that the United States finished the Panama Canal and consolidated power in Latin America and the Caribbean, Richard Strong was a newly appointed director of Harvard’s new Department of Tropical Medicine. Strong was also appointed director of the Laboratories of the Hospitals and of Research Work at United Fruit Company. Strong toured the company’s plantations in Panama, Costa Rica, Guatemala, Honduras, and Cuba. In the coming years, Strong would also personally approach Harvey Firestone, chief executive of the Firestone company, which owned and brutally operated rubber plantations in tropical West Africa. Research in tropical medicine was thus inaugurated by and dependent on colonial/imperial plantations and racial/social hierarchies at United Fruit Company and Firestone sites across the tropical regions, planetwide. Strong is just one character that demonstrates the interconnectedness of academia, fruit plantations, rubber supplies, food distribution, motor vehicle industries, strike-breakers, military forces, imperial expansion, and other tendrils of violently-enforced racist power.

Today, in 2022, Chiquita maintains twenty thousand employees across 70 countries.

I think about this as I eat a banana for lunchtime. I think about this when I see the Edenic portrayal of a Caribbean shore, a landscape baked not so much by the tropical sun but instead scarred by centuries of genocide, slavery, and plantation labor, where government officials gleefully report “with honor” on the massacre of thousands.

“Just a banana, it ain’t.”

Agreed.

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mcromwell · 1 month

Note

Hello! I love your work! Where do you get your inspiration?

Hi! Thank you! ♥

That's a hard question because it sort of comes from everywhere, all the time. I'm always thinking about making stuff. Sometimes I'll just be driving or listening to music or talking to my partner and an idea will just BING, appear, and I write it down for later. Usually this is like inspiration for specific imagery to convey a mood or feeling or idea.

I get inspired by my materials themselves through making things and doing little art supply science experiments... My Trash Book is where most of that happens; I'll have spare paint/mediums on my palette and I'll haphazardly put them in the Trash Book to make sense of later. By forcing myself to make the chaos work as a finished page, it ends up being a valuable study in how materials interact with one another. By understanding the quality of the materials I start to put them together unconsciously in my mind as passive daydreaming. ("Oh, I bet it would look neat if I layered X on top of Y and sanded it and then sealed it with Z and did a wash over the top...") I think in the language of art supplies. When I see a compelling color scheme in the wild, my mind automatically starts to think of what paints to mix to get those colors.

Aside from that, I am greatly inspired by the works of other artists, contemporary and historical, all types of styles and genres, and I love listening to how other artists talk about their practice to pick up on potential new perspectives. (Art21.org is a wealth of Artists Talking Shop.) I get a lot of ideas from reading nonfiction, therapy, philosophy, ecology, biology... politics... personal experience... I've made art about so much stuff... Anything I am doing, I'm probably also thinking about how it can inform my art.

Hope that answers your question alright, thanks for the ask!

♥M

#art #art inspiration #inspiration

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sweetfirebird · 4 months

Text

A Christmas Gift for the Silver Fox

SHW Drew on Patreon gave EXTREMELY generously to a food and housing org and for a prompt said, "in case you have a snippet about "Charlie & Will ten years on" floating around that you're longing for an excuse to write about...."

Sidenote but it is really weird to consider that Will and Charlie ten years on is… more or less now.

Content tags: Covid mention, background family stress. The lightest of BDSM mentions. References to both the book Play It Again, Charlie and some of the commentfic that is floating around the internets somewhere. Passing body image and aging issues. Financial issues. Some alcohol.

This is it for the charity prompt fills this year. Thank you to everyone for being so generous and awesome. <3

A Christmas Gift for the Silver Fox

Will shoved yet another roll of wrapping paper to the side and peered underneath it for a list he was nearly almost hundred percent certain that he’d actually made and used today while shopping and now needed to consult and possibly revise.

“How many bows did you think you’d use?” he asked himself irritably under his breath, setting aside a bag of those he’d bought today. He’d add to the bin of them that he’d gotten years ago in an attempt to make gift wrapping easier. He was going to be like all the homemaking influencers and have a wrapping station, or so he’d thought at the time. He didn’t have a station. He had the temporary use of the kitchen table and space in one of the closets. And there was no point in setting aside wrapping supplies to save time and money if every year he saw some new cute wrapping paper patterns and brought them home.

A tape dispenser clattered to the floor, startling Natalie Wood, who skittered away from Will’s feet and went back to circling the food bowls.

“Sorry, Natty.” Will meant it, but he muttered that too, bending over to snatch up the tape and then resuming his exhausted search for the Christmas list. Beside the rolls of paper and the bin of bows and ribbon were some of the gifts for various Howard cousins and niblings and siblings and siblings-in-law that he’d purchased today. He needed to make sure he had what he wanted to get, and then see what else was still left, and he wanted to do it while shopping was fresh in his mind.

Then he had to wrap them all, tonight, if he could. It would make the following weeks slightly easier. Tomorrow, he’d agreed—months ago, without thinking—to pick up Alicia and take her to the city for some comics event at a shop, which meant getting up early and lots of waiting in line… and probably seeing something she liked and getting it for her for Christmas as sneakily as he could.

If it was expensive, he’d have to use the joint card, which he frowned thinking about. All his life, he’d thought he would enjoy being like Lorelei Lee and spending someone else’s money but it turned out that when it was a reminder of his failures, he didn’t care for it.

Not failures, he immediately repeated in his head, glancing guiltily across the kitchen. It wasn’t failure to finally settle down and get a chair in an actual salon, only to end up having to go back to traveling to work for private clients because of Covid. He wasn’t the only one it had fucked over and it had nothing to do with him succeeding or failing and he was lucky, very lucky, to be okay, both health-wise and financially. He knew that, like he knew that Charlie didn’t mind Will spending his money.

Charlie would, in fact, get cranky if Will called it that and not their money. And would not like Will calling himself a failure either, for having to rebuild his savings and his career this late in the game.

Charlie would be harder on himself than he would ever be on Will, and that included spankings. Then he’d say something about how he worried less about Will knowing that their finances were linked, or say that’s what he thought marriage meant, sharing highs and lows, and if his family had money, and Will was his family, then shouldn’t Will use it?

But Will couldn’t think about that now or he’d lose focus. He was going to complete the list, handle everything like he’d said he would, and then he wouldn’t feel weird about it and everyone would have a nice Christmas. So that. He had to summon the energy and just do it. Wrap presents. Finish the list, if he could. Get ready for bed. Get up to taxi Alicia around and listen to her talk about girls and boys with wonder and a little envy he hadn’t realized he’d ever have toward young people, but there it was anyway. Bring her back here to wait for her mom to pick her up. Get ready for a holiday party which Charlie was iffy on attending for various reasons, but if they didn’t go to that, then probably spend the evening on the phone or online dealing with the rest of the shopping, or wrapping anything he failed to wrap tonight.

Meanwhile, the tree in their living room had lights on it but no decorations, there were several school recitals and one dance performance they were supposed to go see in the next few days, as well as a few more parties—including the one for Charlie’s work which was officially-unofficially mandatory, and Will needed to do a few hair consults before a late December wedding.

Not that long ago, Will’s Decembers had mostly been a small bit of Christmas shopping, first just for his sister and few friends, then for Charlie too. Then Charlie’s sisters, then everyone, even though Charlie kept insisting they could do joint gifts or that he could handle it. Of course Charlie could handle it; he’d been handling it for years before he ever met Will—and frankly for most of the years afterward. That was the point. Will was going to help him, the big, charming dope. If Charlie could insist that marriage meant sharing everything, then it meant sharing everything… even if Will was so tired.

His one Christmas tradition, born out of retail jobs with long December hours and having no family but his sister, was to find whatever channel was playing his favorite Christmas black-and-white classics, and watch them while enjoying a glass or two of champs.

Now, of course, too much champagne was out of the question because of his acid reflux and he had no time to watch anything.

He sighed for the memory of peace and quiet and Barbara Stanwyck, and also his twenties and the ability to eat and drink whatever he wanted, then dropped his head down onto his hands on the table to glare at the reindeer on the roll of wrapping paper closest to him.

In the kitchen, connected to the dining room of the larger apartment they’d happened to have moved into right before lockdown, Charlie was loading the dishwasher, pausing to handwash a few things as well and to check the time on whatever was in the oven.

Charlie had worked all day and probably fielded calls from his family and still had emails to answer or papers to grade, but he’d made dinner anyway. It was for the best; Will couldn’t cook even if he tried. And he’d been busy anyway, out shopping for the family.

Their family, Charlie would say. Like their money. And that Will shouldn’t still think he needed to be perfect and do everything for them—the big hypocrite—and how honestly, he’d been going to get the teens gift cards and Will should do the same.

He was probably right. That’s what teenage Will would have wanted from older relatives instead of bath sets or Christmas socks.

Actually, a nice bath set would be good, for him and for Charlie. He should write that down.

Where the fuck was that list anyway? He had a whole Charlie??? section that needed to be added to. He’d snuck a peek at Charlie’s To Be Read list for some book titles, and considered some fancy cookware that Charlie would probably just buy for himself if Will didn’t. Maybe Will should get Charlie a gift card too, or do one of those TikTok-esque shopping sprees in a Barnes & Noble.

Which would still be spending Charlie’s money, really. Their money, but really Charlie’s. Will was still saving up what he’d lost in the past few years, so using his own would mean Charlie wouldn’t be able to get many books—shockingly expensive things, history books.

Charlie wouldn’t care if Will spent his—their money—or spent his own and got him a cheap bath set, that was the worst part. He was always stupidly surprised to get any meaningful presents, so the amount wouldn’t matter. But Will cared. He wanted to get Charlie something he valued in with all the other stuff.

Nat returned to circle his feet, her soft meows mixed with the quiet thumping that meant Hulking had joined her. Hulking, adopted in Sam’s memory, was a stray who’d had a leg amputated and only entered the kitchen and dining area with its smoother, harder for him to navigate, floors when he was starving. Or cat-starving, anyway.

Alicia had named him. Will got up to feed them and then washed wet food off his hands before dragging himself back over the table to continue his work. He heard the momentary silence that meant Charlie had stopped, probably to watch Will go by, and belatedly looked over once he was no longer on his feet.

“God damn it, Charlie,” Will exclaimed softly without meaning to.

His nearly fifty-year-old hot piece of a husband was in sweatpants, socks, and a soft sleep shirt with the sleeves rolled up to keep them out of the dishwater. He was wearing an apron, the one that said “Silver Fox” which Will had gotten him two birthdays ago, because he was. He had more silver in his hair than dark brown, which was bad enough, but he was actually fitter than he had been because once he’d finally gotten his hip surgery, he’d been ordered to work out to help keep his balance and his strength up and he took that seriously.

He took everything seriously.

He was currently handwashing Will’s reusable water bottle, the one with the sticker of the French poster for Bringing Up Baby on it—L’impossible Monsieur Bébé—because he was obsessed with keeping bacteria out of it and because tomorrow morning when Will was running around, he was going to want that bottle with him. It was just like Charlie to do this to Will when Will was tired, grumpy, and frustrated.

Charlie looked over, then opened his mouth.

“Don’t.” Will cut him off before he could ask if Will had eaten.

Charlie didn’t look hurt, not exactly, but did take a second before he turned around again, because he was. And now Will was a dick… who yes, had not eaten.

“You should have let me make dinner,” he said anyway. “Or I could have brought some home.” Though even McDonalds would have strained Will’s budget these days, and probably also make him sick. Anyway, Charlie would have thought it wasn’t healthy, which it wasn’t, and made Will take vitamins or something.

Which should have made Will feel like a child but he of course was trained in the ways of Charlie and loved it.

Charlie left the water bottle to dry on a towel by the sink and then said in a mild voice, “I’m going to make some tea. Would you like some?”

There was a lot of hidden worry beneath that careful offer. Will gave up looking for the list in his mess of presents and paper and slumped down in his seat to watch Charlie be competent. “Why do you like me so much?” he wondered quietly, not whining but close.

They both startled at the same time as the words sank in. “No, nope,” Will denied it all immediately. “Never mind. That was exhaustion talking. Don’t worry about it.”

Charlie put down the kettle he’d only just filled. He walked over to the fridge, reached on top of it for a red tin that Will didn’t remember seeing before, then brought it over to the table. He sat down with a loud, old-man noise of relief to be off his feet, then popped the lid on the tin and held it out for Will to look inside.

“Fudge?” Will guessed excitedly, already taking a piece.

Charlie nodded. “And chocolate rum balls. Teddy, the new office guy, apparently de-stresses with baking and confectionary, and goes overboard for Christmas. As people tend to do.”

He gave Will a look. Will gave him a look back.

“That remark feels pointed,” Will finally said, only a little bit snippy because fudge. “I have to get gifts for your family.”

“Which I told you, you didn’t have to do.” Charlie was noticeably not eating any of the candy.

Will took a rum ball and handed it to Charlie before taking one for himself. “I want them to be happy. I want you to be happy…. Fuck. These are incredibly good. Do we need to get him something in return?”

Charlie hummed a little around a sinful bite of chocolate and rum. “A bottle of wine should do it. I’ll take something from the house if I have no time to go to the store. All that red you can’t drink anymore just sitting there.”

“Stupid aging,” Will sighed it. “Stupid acid reflux. Years of champagne and terrible meals catching up with me.”

“Pretty sure some of it is also genetic.” Charlie shook the tin to urge Will to take more. “You didn’t eat this afternoon.” He was not guessing. “Just seasonal lattes and whatever you had for lunch?”

“The seasonal latte was my lunch,” Will grumbled. “Skim milk even. We can’t all age like you.”

Charlie put the tin to the side and folded his hands in front of him. The Silver Fox on his apron taunting Will. “What can I do to help you?”

“Charlie,” Will whined at him, his irritation forgotten, “you have enough to do.”

“I’d rather see you enjoying yourself.” Charlie accepted the whining but did arch an eyebrow. “You usually do, this time of year.” There was a hint of a question there.

Will floundered a little. “I’m just… going through some stuff, and it’s the worst time of year to do that. Taking stock before Christmas is dumb. It’s nothing. I’ll get over it.”

Charlie took a rum ball all on his own, so Will went for more fudge. “You know,” Charlie began slowly, after savoring his chocolate, “you don’t have to get me anything.” He ignored Will’s gasp of outrage that Will made very dramatic even though he had just had this thought about Charlie moments before. “Truly.” He looked Will in the eye with a serious, dark stare that would have made lesser men whimper. “I’m happy as I am.”

“You’re dreadful,” Will returned immediately, but didn’t give Charlie a chance to be hurt. “Just absolutely… I ought to make you something handmade, and heartfelt, and ugly, and force you to display it in the house…. Except you would.” He really would. He did it for his sisters and niblings all the time. Will sighed, perhaps also dramatically. “I’m just tired. And hungry—shush, you—and poor—and I know what you’re going to say and shush for that too. Then you go and wash my water bottle for me. I want to do something like that for you.” Will gestured at the air, then reached for more chocolate. “But also bigger and grander because you should have that. You can deny it all you like, but you supported me for two years. Maybe it’s natural for you but I still want to just… fuck, make things easier for you, at minimum. Then get you something really nice.”

A gorgeous frown of confusion came and went on Charlie’s face. “What would you like to do for me?” He was almost tentative, which he really shouldn’t be.

“If I knew that, I’d do it,” Will answered, huffy. He leaned forward a second later. “You know what? I’d like to let you rest. To not have you picking up after me and taking care of me—” the alarm on Charlie’s face was touching— “just for the one day,” Will assured him. “A few hours, even. To not be a mess or stressed, and… all that. But it’s December so… the month of stress.”

Charlie took another rum ball. This conversation had puzzled him or he wouldn’t be reaching for the booze in candy form. He ate it silently, frowning into space at first and then at the reindeer-pattern wrapping paper before looking up again.

“Wrinkles,” Will gently reminded him out of habit.

Charlie gave a nod, not of agreement. More decisive. “What are you doing tonight? Wrapping?” He waved over the table.

“I have to if I want this all out of the way before the last things arrive… and still have some to ship off, and tomorrow I’m out most of the day and…” Will groaned.

“Or.” Charlie stopped Will’s moaning with a word. “Or… we make Alicia help tomorrow. Wrapping presents for the family is a grownup activity. It will make her feel more adult but also, having big Christmases like this takes work and everyone needs to learn how to contribute sooner or later. And then you give me your list, and we just do gift cards for the teens like I suggested… and maybe a few of the adults. And they can be understanding—they will be understanding,” Charlie added, in that voice that said he meant it and the family would listen. “And how about… tonight, we eat dinner and then do nothing?”

Shocking. Scandalous. Outrageous.

Will sat straight up. “I will probably fall asleep if I do that.” But he wanted.

The softest smile of relief crossed Charlie’s face. “That’s all right with me. You know that.”

“A night on the couch with the half-done Christmas tree and maybe a movie before we’re snoring?” Will was so middle-aged adjacent because that sounded amazing.

“Could you give me that, Will? As your present?” Charlie was so delicate and fine. “You haven’t watched your December movies yet either.”

Of course he’d noticed.

“Charlie.” It was probably the lack of food or the chocolate and sugar but if Will had known what he was in for, he would have dropped that flowerpot to get Charlie’s attention sooner. “It took me years to find these movies on DVD and now once I own them, they’re streaming everywhere? So rude,” he complained instead of saying any of that. “Bell, Book, and Candle could be considered a Christmas movie and I’ve been debating adding it to my usual watch. It begins and ends with Christmas anyway.” He had rambled about that for years now and Charlie had definitely heard it before and was probably very bored. But he regarded Will with that soft look lingering in his eyes. “You know this isn’t going to count, right?” Will surrendered. Will always surrendered to Charlie and was happy to do it. “I still want you to have nice things to open the morning of.”

The oven timer beeped. Charlie sighed and pushed himself up, leaving Will unattended with the chocolate because of course Charlie wouldn’t mind if Will had a million love handles as long as Will was okay and content.

Dreadful, for him to be like that. Will would do whatever he wanted, but all he wanted was this. A quiet night with Will.

Tired or not, Will leapt out his chair, startling poor Hulking as he rushed over to grab Charlie and hold him tight.

The oven beeped again.

“Fuck off,” Will said into the Silver Fox.

Charlie exhaled the smallest laugh and gently disengaged from Will’s hold to go to the oven and take out whatever he’d put in there—sweet potatoes and chicken or something—and then, after taking his oven mitts off, came right back to Will.

That was much nicer. A much better end to the day than Will had been anticipating. Except maybe it could get a tiny bit nicer. He peeked up. “Need me to do anything else, Charlie, sir?”

“Ah.” Charlie sighed it—very pleased, Will could tell, because he used the voice when he spoke next. “Get out plates and silverware and whatever you want to drink with dinner. Make enough room on the table for that, but you don’t need to clean off the whole thing. Eat real food, and then you have as many rum balls as you like… that won’t affect you tomorrow morning.” Will didn’t think he could get drunk off candy but nodded anyway because he enjoyed being good for Charlie when he wasn’t being bad for Charlie. Charlie wiped something, probably chocolate, from Will’s mouth. “I bought more Tums today when I went to pick up my prescription, including a small travel-sized one for your workbag, since December is the month of tempting foods.”

Will considered that he ought to complain, again, and wonder how he was ever going to show love the way Charlie did, but did his best anyway. “Is that all, sir?”

Charlie hummed thoughtfully, petting Will’s mouth now, with no agenda except that he liked to do it. “There is something you’re supposed to say when you feel like this, isn’t there.”

He was not asking.

“Oh.” Will was vaguely embarrassed to have forgotten, but he was tired and hungry, and had stressed himself out for weeks now. He inched up, silently asking for a kiss but also to let Charlie gaze at him in that serious Charlie way while Will said what he should have said from the start. “Charlie loves me, and that’s all that matters.”

#play it again charlie #r. cooper #charity prompt #charity prompts 2023 #futurefic

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floatingstirnerhead · 1 year

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I love you so much Anarcho-book sellers but it's always so funny cause like.... Oh you're selling books because people who buy them will get ideas and change their minds? And this is an effective strategy to combat capitalism? My beautiful comrades, I think that's literally the liberal model.

Like I know I know the book store is not the revolutionary beachhead but like... How are you different from the new age ladies and the Marxist multi level marketing schemes orgs? Like you sell commodities to raise consciousness, do you have any crystals?

Again I love you anarchist bookstore and I'm kissing you with tongue, but I always have to wonder... What would they do if I just went in and asked if they'd give me the book I want for free? Like I come in like "I'm homeless and want to be involved in Anarchism, can I just have this book? I have no money because I am oppressed by capital."

I'm not saying that it's wrong to run the print shop but I think I would judge them exclusively by how they react to that scenario.

#anarchy #anarchism #communism #revolution

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synthient · 5 months

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I was poking around for copies of the Matrix comics last night. And I stumbled across what I didn't actually recognize at first as the publisher's website. I figured "biblionaut dot org" was just some kind of abebooks clone

The comics were originally published by Burlyman - a publishing company owned by the Wachowski sisters. It was only really ever used to print Matrix tie-ins (the art book, etc)*, plus one original Wachowskis comic about Frankenstein defending Roe v Wade or something

*[edit I lied. The artbook was Warner Bros, Newmarket, & something called "Redpill Productions." So just the Matrix comics, Frankenstein, and "v for vendetta script to screen"]

So what's Biblionaut? Some new company that bought Burlyman?

If you look at the website, it's laid out like Burlyman is supposed to be one header or imprint under a larger Biblionaut umbrella. But the Burlyman stuff - Matrix + Frankenstein - is literally all that's on there.

The bottom of the page links to an insta account. "We sell books," and the url for burlymanentertainment dot com. Which does still exist, with formatting straight out of 2004

(This is an unedited screenshot of what it looks like on mobile btw)

The site's been updated to include the latest reprints/20th anniversary editions, while keeping it's neocities-core aesthetic (unlike the original whatisthematrix dot com, which tragically reroutes to a bland warner bros shop). All the "buy online" links lead back to Biblionaut.

So, my best guess: Biblionaut is just Burlyman, renamed and rebranded.

But it's interesting, looking at the general "we sell books" tagline. "Also the home of Burlyman." The site layout that seems designed for other imprints to be added. The move away from a niche Coen brothers/wrestling joke, and toward a more universal, professional-sounding publishing house name.

Are the Wachowskis planning to...actually use their publishing company for something? Maybe platform some other people's work?

According to Wayback machine, the site has existed in this form for about 2 years - right around the time Resurrections came out. So if there are any plans, they don't seem that pressing.

But given that the Wachowskis' creative career started with showing up on Clive Barker's porch and begging to write for the Clive Barker Presents comic line, it would kind of be full circle

#the matrix #the special interest may extend to this mini research product. but the real question:#will it extend to me seeking out 'frankenstein defends roe v wade' at some point. do even i have limits

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ghelgheli · 6 months

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The Stuff I Read in October 2023

Stuff I Extra Liked is Bold

Books

Women with Mustaches and Men without Beards, Afsaneh Najmabadi

Network Effect, Martha Wells

Fugitive Telemetry, Martha Wells

Gateway, Frederik Pohl

A Call to Arms: Iran's Marxist Revolutionaries, Ali Rahnema

Manga (mostly yuri)

Aoi Hana / Blue Flowers, Takako Shimura

Kekkon Aite no Jouken ni Perfect datta no wa Shokuba no Kouhai Joshi deshita / Mr. Right Turned Out To Be A Younger Woman, Kozumi Miura

Tokidoki kaette kuru on'na tomodachi no hanashi / My Lady Friend Who Visits Now and Again, Sumiko Arai

She Loves to Cook and She Loves to Eat Vol 3, Sakaomi Yuzaki

Double House, Nanae Haruno

Fujouri na Atashitachi / An Absurd Relationship, Jin Takemiya

The Girls' Arcadia, Yatosaki Haru

Recipe for Arcadia, Yatosaki Haru

Short Fiction (all SF)

17776, Jon Bois [link]

The Merchants of Venus, Frederik Pohl

The Merchants of Venus, A. H. Phelps Jr.

The Erasure Game, Yoon Ha Lee

Compulsory, Martha Wells

Obsolescence, Martha Wells

Home: Habitat, Range, Niche, Territory, Martha Wells

The Shoe Shop Jinn, Sakina Hassan [link]

Earth-747, Saud Ahmed [link]

Communism, History, Politics

The Palestinian Left Will Not Be Hijacked – A Critique of Palestine: A Socialist Introduction - Viewpoint Magazine, Samar Al-Saleh & L.K. [Viewpoint Magazine]

The Algerian War: Cause Célèbre of Anticolonialism, Malika Rahal [JSTOR]

Socialism for the Welsh People, Gareth Miles & Robert Griffiths

Soviet time capsules: messages from the past with lessons to teach us in 2017, Sasha Raspopina [New East Archive]

No Human Being Can Exist, Saree Makdisi [n+1]

The Other Nuremberg Trials, Seventy-Five Years On, Erica X Eisen [Boston Review]

The 1932 Harvest and the Famine of 1933, Mark B. Tauger [JSTOR]

Political Islam in the Service of Imperialism, Samir Amin [link]

Dismantle the ADL [link]

Women and Men, Cloth and Colonization: The Transformation of Production-Distribution Relations among the Baule, Mona Etienne [JSTOR]

Iranica

The Defender: Waiting for the revolution in Tehran, Nargol Aran [Point Magazine]

Divided by a Common Tongue: Exclusionary Politics of Persian-Language Pedagogy, Aria Fani [link]

The Necessity of Armed Struggle and Refutation of the Theory of “Survival”, Amir Parviz Pooyaan [pdf on marxists dot org]

Queer Stuff/Feminism (broadly construed)

Cultural Feminism: Feminist Capitalism and the Anti-Pornography Movement, Alice Echols [JSTOR]

Against the "Prison/Psychiatric State": Anti-violence Feminisms and the Politics of Confinement in the 1970s, Emily Thuma [JSTOR]

"Some Could Suckle over Their Shoulder": Male Travelers, Female Bodies, and the Gendering of Racial Ideology, 1500-1770, Jennifer L. Morgan [JSTOR]

Collective Memory and the Transfeminist 1970s: Toward a Less Plausible History, Finn Enke [DOI]

Racial-Class Paternalism and the Trojan Horse of Anti-transmasculinity, Nsámbu Za Suékama [Medium]

Trans Misogyny in the Colonial Archive: Re-Membering Trans Feminine Life and Death in New Spain, 1604–1821, Jamey Jesperson [DOI]

Other

The Establishment of Scientific Semantics, Rudolf Carnap

On What There Is, Willard V. Quine [JSTOR]

On the Ancestral Plane: Crip Hand Me Downs and the Legacy of Our Movements, Stacey Milbern [link]

Megastructures, Superweapons and Global Architectures in Science Fiction Computer Games, Mark R. Johnson [link]

#reading prog #yeah yeah i'm getting back on the strang linalg in november the last month has kept me busy with teaching #a day late bc it's been busy as hell

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cryptonature · 2 years

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New Bookshop.org Page

For those of you who wanted to order my book(s) through a non-Amazon option, both of my collections are now available via my bookshop dot org page.

https://bookshop.org/shop/JarodKAnderson

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mostlysignssomeportents · 9 months

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Open Circuits

I'm kickstarting the audiobook for "The Internet Con: How To Seize the Means of Computation," a Big Tech disassembly manual to disenshittify the web and make a new, good internet that picks up where the old, good internet left off. It's a DRM-free book, which means Audible won't carry it, so this crowdfunder is essential. Back now to get the audio, Verso hardcover and ebook:

http://seizethemeansofcomputation.org

Every trip to Defcon – the massive annual hacker-con in Las Vegas – is a delight. Partly it's the familiar – seeing old friends, getting updates on hacks of years gone by. But mostly, it's the surprises, the things you never anticipated. Defcon never fails to surprise.

I got back from Vegas yesterday and I've just unpacking my suitcase, and with it, the tangible evidence of Defcon's cave of wonders. My gear bag has a new essential: Hak5's malicious cable detector, a little USB gizmo that lights up if it detects surreptitious malicious activity, even as it interdicts those nasty payloads:

https://shop.hak5.org/collections/omg-row2/products/malicious-cable-detector-by-o-mg

(In case you're wondering if it's really possible to craft a malicious USB cable that injects badware into your computer and is visually indistinguishable from a regular cable, the answer is a resounding yes, and of course, Hak5 sells those cables, with a variety of USB tips:)

https://shop.hak5.org/collections/omg-row2/products/omg-cable

But merch is only a sideshow. The real action is in the conference rooms, where hackers update you on the pursuit of their obsessions. These are such beautiful weirdos who pursue knowledge to ridiculous extremes, untangling gnarly hairballs just to follow a thread to its origin point.

For the second year in a row, I caught a presentation from Joseph Gabay about his work on warshopping: slicing up shopping cart wheels and haunting shopping mall parking lots during resurfacing to figure out how the anti-theft mechanism that stops your cart from leaving the parking lot works:

https://www.begaydocrime.com/

And of course, I got to give one of those presentations, "An Audacious Plan to Halt the Internet's Enshittification," to a packed house. What a thrill! It was livestreamed, and if you missed it, you'll be able to catch it on Defcon's Youtube page as soon as they upload it (they've got a lot of uploading to do!):

https://www.youtube.com/@DEFCONConference/videos

After my talk, I went back to the No Starch Press booth for a book signing – which was amazing, so many beautiful hackers, plus I got to share a signing table with Micah Lee. As I was leaving, Bill Pollock slipped me a giant hardcover art-book, and said, "You're gonna love this."

I did. The book is Open Circuits: The Inner Beauty of Electronic Components, by Windell Oskay and Eric Schlaepfer, and it is a drop-dead gorgeous collection of photos of electronic components, painstakingly cross-sectioned and polished:

The photos illustrate layperson-friendly explanations of what each component does, how it is constructed, and why. Perhaps you've pondered a circuit board and wondered about the colorful, candy-shaped components soldered to it. It's natural to assume that these are indivisible, abstract functional units, a thing that is best understood as a reliable and deterministic brick that can be used to construct a specific kind of wall.

But peering inside these sealed packages reveals another world, a miniature land where things get simpler – and more complex. Inside these blobs of resin are snips of wire, plugs of wax, simple screws, fine sheets of metal in stacks, wafers of plain ceramic, springs and screws.

Truly, quantity has a quality all its own. Miniaturize these assemblies and produce them at unimaginable scale and the simple, legible components turn into mystical black boxes that only the most dedicated study can reveal. Like every magician's trick, the unfathomable effect is built up through the precise repetition of something very simple.

A prolonged study of Open Circuits reveals something important about the hacker aesthetic, a collection of graphic design, fashion and industrial design conventions that begins with this realization: that the crisp lines of digital logic can be decomposed into blobby, probabilistic lumps of metal, plastic, and even wax.

It reminds me of George Dyson's brilliant memoir/history of computing, Turing's Cathedral, where he describes how he and the other children of the scientists building the first digital computers at the Princeton Institute spent their summers in the basement, hand-winding cores for the early colossi their parents were building on the floors above them:

https://memex.craphound.com/2012/03/12/george-dysons-history-of-the-computer-turings-cathedral/

You can see my hacker aesthetic photos in my Defcon 31 photo set:

https://www.flickr.com/search/?sort=date-taken-desc&safe_search=1&tags=defcon31&user_id=37996580417%40N01&view_all=1

In this video, Eric Schlaepfer illustrates the painstaking work that went into decomposing these tiny, precise components into their messy, analog subcomponents. It's pure hacker aesthetic, and it's mesmerizing:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=byKyJ0b04Lo

But Open Circuits isn't just an aesthetic journey, it's a technical one. After all, Oskay is co-founder of Evil Mad Scientist Labs, one of the defining places where hardware hackers gather to tear down, pick apart, mod, improve and destroy electronics. The accompanying text is a masterclass in the simple machines that combine together to make complex assemblies:

https://www.evilmadscientist.com/

Defcon is a reminder that the world only seems hermetically sealed and legible to authorized parties with clearance to crack open the box. From shopping cart wheels to thermal fuses, that illegibility is only a few millimeters thick. Sand away the glossy outer layer and you will find yourself in a weird land of wax-blobs, rough approximations, expedient choices and endless opportunities for delight and terror, mischief and care.

Back my anti-enshittification Kickstarter here!

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

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/14/hidden-worlds/#making-the-invisible-visible-and-beautiful

#pluralistic #books #reviews #evil mad scientist laboratories #no starch press #Windell Oskay #Eric Schlaepfer #electronics #hacker aesthetic #makers #diy #secret knowledge #gift guide #photography

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