#and it's like... nothing with the VIRUS ITSELF changed lol.. the response changed and the culture changed but the part that matters is the

[timextoxhajima]

HOSTIS, Chapter I: Primi Foederis, The First Meeting

Member: Lee Hyunjae (tbz)

Genre (by chapter): angst, drama, comedy featuring doctor hyunjae 

Category: Short Novel/ Long Series (because i’m expecting to invest quite a lot of effort into this)

A/N: YEET back with another short novel idk how long this one is going to run. i’m already predicting it’s going to be longer than chaebol juyeon because i have alot of ideas waiting to come out in this one, let’s see if i butcher it LOL. this is the first piece of work i’m posting on tumblr that isn’t part of my playlist feels collection because i don’t think i’ll be able to find a track that fits every chapter well like i’ve been doing for my playlist feels collection. any-o-how, hopefully this is gonna go well... and i’ll see you on the other side ;)

“i’ve invested so much time and effort to make sure i will never have to see you again...” 

“but i must’ve done something unforgivable in my past life for fate to put us in the same place,”

“...even after a decade.”

the amygdala helps coordinate responses to things in one’s environment, especially those that trigger an emotional response. 

this structure plays an important role in anger.

the rapid, minimal, and evaluative processing of the emotional significance of the sensory data is done when the data passes through the amygdala in its travel from the sensory organs along certain neural pathways towards the limbic forebrain. 

emotion caused by discrimination of stimulus features, thoughts, or memories however, occurs when its information is relayed from the thalamus to the neocortex.

based on some statistical analysis, some doctors have suggested that the tendency for anger may be genetic. 

but that’s not the case for you. 

usually, you’d run your thoughts through your head before you spat them out, but the sight of him was enough to make you want to regurgitate your breakfast.

“you have to be shitting me.”

not one pinch of regret shows in your words, and all you could do was stare in utter disbelief at the man standing right opposite you. the department head had a clipboard in his hand as he flipped through it, only pausing when he heard your cold, yet frustrated tone buried in your expression. 

“oh,” he releases the sheets of paper in his hand and places the clipboard down on the table he was leaning on. “so you know each other.”

the gleaming sunlight was shining into the room behind the man standing directly opposite you, and the department head was resting his rear against the edge of the desk between the two of you. 

the years of hard work finished themselves as certificates and plaques of achievements that hung on the wall behind him, and from the corner of your eye, you could almost see your own enraged facial expression in the reflection off the awards. 

“well, that makes things a lot easier for me, but i am still obligated to facilitate a proper introduction -- meeting -- or whatever the two of you want to call it,” the glasses on his nose would’ve fallen off if he didn’t push them back up his nose bridge.

your eyes were darting back and forth between the department head and the last person you’d ever want to see, or even have within your reach. your jaw was locked and your temples were so tight, you could feel a vein slowly exposing itself on your forehead.

“y/n, this is doctor lee hyunjae, and the both of you will be my mentees for the next two weeks.”

i know his fucking name--

“so until those two weeks are up, i wouldn’t expect anything less than the two of you following me around like little puppies,”

puppies? just call us dogs and that’ll already be half the truth.

“and after that, there’ll be a high chance that you’ll both need work on a research project with the research department--”

“‘research department’?” you blurt out rudely, but the department head doesn’t look like he could care less. 

“did i say that wrong?” he raises an indifferent brow at you, arms crossed over his chest while he pulls his shoulder blades backwards. 

there was no way you would’ve complained about med school being so difficult if you knew this day was coming. the energy required to contain your desire to punch lee hyunjae in the nose and ram your knee into his groin was enough to drain you in that very moment. 

you would’ve passed out if you weren’t standing in the department head’s office.

“i agree it’s not like the hospital to put two young doctors to work on a research project, but the work the both of you did in your respective schools were a little difficult for the research department to ignore.”

‘respective schools’...

the silence becomes deafening, and the department head starts to smack his lips awkwardly loudly. “so if you have no further questions for now, i’d like you to fill up some administrative forms for the hospital to finalise, and then i’ll see you in the cafeteria for lunch at twelve,” he pulls out some sheets of paper from the clipboard and hands it to the two of you after slotting them into clear files. 

“after lunch, i’ll give you one more tour around the hospital and a more detailed orientation of the north wing where the research department is... and the east wing where the neurology department is, which the two of you would be officially attached to and on document.”

you skim through the documents in the file, and your eyes naturally travel back up to look at your mentor. 

“so if there are no further questions, you may go.”

both you and lucifer bow to your mentor, and he waits for the both of you to leave the office before he returns to his huge leather seat. 

you let yourself out the door, not bothering to hold it open for your colleague. the grip on the clear file was tightening every second and you don’t realise you were on the verge of crumpling the contents of it. every muscle and feature on your face were compressed in itself, but luckily it doesn’t catch the attention of passing hospital staff and patients walking along the hall way.

the reflection off the frame of the lift tells you that your lips were white from the airtight closure, and you jab the lift button like you hated it. 

“just so you know, i’m not fond of the idea of being stuck with you for an indefinite amount of time either.”

“ha,” you scoff, watching him stand a safe distance behind you in the reflection. “i must be so lucky for you to be able to read my expression and distaste... especially with how hard i tried to hide it.”

he snorts behind you, and the air hits the hair of your ponytail. 

“you’ve never been able to hide your feelings anyway,” 

this piece of--

“so it would be such an honor to even see you try.”

your eye twitches and your lips pucker in rage at the smug tone in his voice. you turn on one heel and raise the file, ready to swing it into his face. 

“you--”

he grabs your wrist, waiting for your strength in your forearm to dissipate. you begin to writhe your way out of his grip with pursed lips, and he drops it like it wasn’t attached to you.

you take a step back towards the lift and mindlessly pat down your white coat, glaring at him with eyes you wish had daggers. 

“nice to know your temper hasn’t changed.”

“i have a designated type of temper when it comes to you, not because i have anger management issues.”

the lift arrives and the doors open to reveal an empty space, pouring a bucket full of agony and scorn over your head when the realisation of being stuck with lee hyunjae for an indefinite amount of time sinks into your neurons. 

just being around lee hyunjae was so difficult to swallow. 

if you weren’t in a hospital with patients who had an actual reason to throw up, you would’ve done it in plain sight. 

if you knew there were no laws to sentence you to death for murder, you would’ve stabbed him in the eye.

if you weren’t a doctor who took a pledge to only save lives just under a week ago, you would’ve poisoned him with some godforsaken virus mankind has found a way to contain. 

you would’ve enjoyed lunch and the tour of the hospital, despite it being your third time wandering around the compound, if it weren’t for the fact that the last person you wanted to see was standing right next to you the entire duration.

becoming a doctor was nothing short of prestige and honour for your family, especially when you’ve come from a long line of neurosurgeons and relatives who would’ve spent more time inhaling the scent of a certain hospital than their own homes. 

it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that it was in your blood to follow in everybody else’s footsteps; your parents would’ve probably freaked out and started worrying that you were someone’s secret illegitimate child if you didn’t become one.

“you must be y/n,” the doctor who had white hair and a wrinkly forehead had to be peeled and shoved off the seat by your mentor for him to get up and greet you. 

“this is doctor kim, head of research for neurology,” your mentor introduces as doctor kim shakes your hand. 

“and you must be lee hyunjae,” he shakes lucifer’s hand. 

‘petty’ was a word nobody usually associated you with, but you busked in the little sprinkle of glory and smugness when you see lee hyunjae’s lips twitch in disgust when he shakes the hand that just touched yours. 

“if you’re working on research, then you will report to doctor kim--”

“i’ve seen both your reports and research work and they are phenomenal--”

“uh, doctor kim--”

“how did oxford manage to come up with this set of data?” he literally sweeps his bony, wrinkled hands across the table, looking for something you assume he took from lucifer’s application portfolio. 

“doctor--”

“and how did harvard even think about this link? it’s so mind-boggling, i must admit i haven’t really wrapped my head around it--”

“doctor kim!” 

the sharp call startles you, and everybody else in the office turns to provide the group of you their attention. 

“sorry,” your mentor raises his hand and gives a small apologetic bow. “doctor kim,” he gently removes the items the old research doctor has grasped in his hands and places them elsewhere on the table. 

you note that though doctor kim does not look a day older than sixty, he must’ve been losing his brain cells and composure from all the research he’s been doing.

“the two of them will be officially placed in the neurology department under me, but do you remember that email you sent to me about wanting them to join your team?”

“of course! what do you treat me as?” the elder man frowns and pulls off his glasses, fists resting on his hips and looking up at your mentor. 

the sight lifts your spirits a little, and you momentarily forget that lucifer was standing right next to you. 

“uh-- okay, well, all you gotta do is drop me an email about one week prior to whenever you need them, but for these two weeks they are still going to be trainees mentored by me, you follow?”

the elder man squints at him with eyes that scream ‘i’m not an idiot’, and your mentor takes the cue. 

“after the two weeks are up, just drop them an email one week prior to when you need them and you can cc them to me. they may be bright lights in the dark but it might not necessarily guide the right people.”

“will you shut your trap--” the elder doctor picks up a thick file and rams it into your mentor’s head. your eyes widen in shock, hand flying up to your mouth to hide your surprise at the sudden attack. lucifer stands by and crosses his arms over his chest, a light smile appearing over his lips.

“with enough honing and experience, they can go a long way,” he drops the file back onto his table. “you didn’t start here with as much potential as these kids do.”

“okay!” your mentor exclaims, turning around and waving the two of you away from the office space. “if that’s all doctor kim, we’re going to take our leave!”

“you better not let those kids think i’m a crazy old man!” he waves the thick file at all of you, and you give him a little wave while your mentor ushers the both of you out of the office space. 

a laugh escapes your nostrils, and your mentor looks down at you with a look of embarrassment while the three of you return to the lift lobby. 

“are you two close?” lucifer asks, pressing the button on the lift panel.

“he was my mentor when i first came here as a trainee, so he’s been looking after me since then, even after i stopped being his mentee.”

“oh,” you nod. “that’s nice.”

“well, he is getting on with age,” the lift arrives and he pauses while the hospital staff exit. someone in the crowd greets him. 

you and lucifer follow him inside, and he presses the button of the floor that connects the north wing to the east wing. 

“so it’s only a matter of time before he retires. i don’t want the hospital to be the last place he’s in and i don’t want the last time he was seen... alive... to be him burying his nose in his research papers. he doesn’t have his own family so he’s either alone at home or in the office and working until someone chases him home.”

“hasn’t the hospital or... i don’t know... you, talked to him about retiring?” 

the lift doors open, and you notice the pause in the air. 

lucifer’s question struck a chord somewhere, and your mentor was showing it. 

“both the hospital and i have talked to him about it, but it’s not easy leaving a place you love working in...”

a pause. 

“or at least a place you’ve been working it for more than forty years.”

he brings the both of you to the neurology department and returns the two of you to your neighbouring offices after he concludes the orientation and tour. 

the scent of the hospital would’ve been nauseating for some people, patients especially. but there was something about the way the place smelled that convinced you becoming a doctor was worth the effort and hard work. 

the way the air smelled like medicine and iv disinfectant made you hopeful for patients, the obligation for every surface to be spick and span never failed to satiate your need for hygiene. 

you were finally in a place you wanted to be.

the only downfall was that you were going to be stuck with lucifer for how long, you don’t even know. 

“so that concludes the tours and orientation. i hope it was adequate and even if it wasn’t, don’t hesitate to drop by my office and ask me anything you deem important enough to ask. otherwise you can just email me,” he slides his hands into his coat pockets. 

the two of you bow, ready to admire his back leaving the two of you before you could roll your eyes at each other. 

but he doesn’t leave.

“but before i go,” he raises a single pointer in the air, his other hand still in the pocket. “i’d like the both of you to know that the hospital has no space for... a lack of professionalism.”

you bite down on your bottom lip, slightly embarrassed. 

lucifer wasn’t going to let this go. 

“everybody has their differences, so i hope while the two of you have yours, it won’t affect your work here. the two of you are promising, and doctor kim wasn’t lying when he said the two of you have more potential than me when i first joined the hospital. with enough experience, the both of you could reach heights even i can only dream of.”

“oh, you flatter us,” lucifer provides a humble chuckle and waves it off. 

fake ass.

“i give credit where it’s due,” he returns his hand to the pocket. “so don’t prove me wrong.”

he doesn’t wait for either of you to respond before he walks off. the atmosphere hanging between the two of you was so still, so cold, so frozen, you were almost afraid that if you moved first, he was going to burst into some maniacal laughter. 

you suck in a deep breath, your eyes fluttering shut as the cold air sours your nose. the inhalation causes a sharp ache in your chest, not that it bothered you. 

“if he says that we both have potential, then i guess that puts us on the same pedestal.”

light seeps in through your lids and you watch the other hospital staff walk in and out of the office, his words running into your ear canals and sinking into the flesh of your brain. 

your hear lucifer turn around, and the pens in his pockets click against each other upon his movement. your eyes fixate on a clock on the wall opposite you and beyond some smaller cubicles. the red, digital numbers hanging right between the two lifts glaring at you like a demon’s eyes.

you hear the door of his office click and the friction of the rubber on the bottom of the glass door brushes against the carpeted floor. 

“you know,”

you sense the stoppage in his movements upon hearing the sudden words leaving your lips. 

“i’ve invested so much time and effort to make sure i will never have to see you again...”

a smile of pain and despair pulls the corners of your lips up your cheek, and you turn your head enough to see him in the corner of your eye. 

“but i must’ve done something unforgivable in my past life for fate to put us in the same place.”

you turn back and look at the clock, everyone’s movements within your field of vision slowing down. 

“...even after a decade.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 2: Antiquum Fabulum

#timetohajima #lee hyunjae #hyunjae #the boyz #the boyz hyunjae #doctor hyunjae #angst #drama #comedy #what #timetohajima hostis

[basura2319]

Everywhere

Pairing: fives x reader

Requested by: lol no one asked for this

Warnings: angst, heavy alcohol consumption

WC: 2k

A/N: *throws this at you then runs*

Three months have passed since your boyfriend’s death and you knew that things weren’t getting any better for you. Especially working for the army, in an environment where everywhere you look, be it his brothers, his bunk, your own room, an ARC Trooper who almost mirrored his armor—you saw Fives everywhere. It was tearing you apart.

And you weren’t getting better, accepting his death. Hell, they wouldn’t let you see his body. They left nothing of him to you; not even a piece of his armor, which was most likely scrapped by someone on Kamino as told by Rex.

Rex. He was the only one who told you in person. He watched you fall apart at the news, kneeling on the floor with you as you screamed out to him over why they had to take Fives from you. The captain tried his best comfort you, but in that moment you didn’t want to look at him. It wasn’t fair for you to run him out you realized days after that encounter. After all, Fives was his brother. He was hurting just as much as you were.

You’ve spoken to him occasionally since you got back from leave, but the encounters were always cautious. There was something he wasn’t telling you. You didn’t believe the stories they were saying about Fives. How he went rogue or insane due to the virus that killed Tup. No. You weren’t buying it. Yet every time you brought it up or started to ask more questions, it’s like Rex would close himself up.

You couldn’t be here anymore, which is why you're here now resigning from the army, turning in your uniform—along with some other items, to your commanding officer in the process. You felt nothing by doing it. No remorse, no regret. You just walked in and out with a hollow feeling in your chest, not registering a voice calling your name.

You felt a hand on your shoulder stopping you from walking any farther. Turning around, you saw Rex looking to you with that same pitiful expression.

“You’re leaving?” he asked, confusion laced in his voice.

You nodded, staring at the floor.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you voiced defeatedly, folding your arms. All the while, you tried making eye contact with the Captain’s eyes which clearly showcased his disappointment. “Working here, it’s uh…” You grew silent.

He rested a hand on your arm as if coaxing you to continue.

“It’s not working out,” you finally spat out. “I need to pack up and leave tomorrow morning so…”

“(Y/N).” You couldn’t help but listen to the way he says your name, an underlying hint of moroseness. “I know this is hard, getting over him,—”

You chuckled humorlessly at him, surprising yourself by doing so. “‘Hard’ doesn’t even begin to cover how I feel Rex.” You swallowed back the lump in your throat before continuing. “It’s agony here. I feel like I can’t move forward, like there’s no closure.”

“No closure?” reiterated Rex. “I told you everything that happened that night.”

You shook your head slowly. “You’re lying to me Rex.”

He opened his mouth to speak but you cut him off.

“Something tells me that Fives ‘going rogue’ had nothing to do with his death,” you said resentfully. “And it’s clear you don’t want to tell me the entire truth.”

And with that, you brushed past him, not letting him get the chance to catch up to you in your hastiness to go and lock yourself in your army issued room.

You sagged against the door, pinching the bridge of your nose from the pent up anger and frustration billowing inside your mind. You closed your eyes and inhale through your nose then exhale from your mouth.

Inhale. Exhale.

You did this for about three minutes then stopped, feeling your head begin to focus and clear itself from your interaction with Rex.

What did you need to do again?

You looked around at the mess which was your room.

Oh, right. Packing. You needed to start packing and cleaning up the place for the next occupant who will take this room. No doubt your replacement as a new deck officer too.

The space in this room wasn’t particularly huge, but it was comfortable and it had everything you needed. What’s nice is that you didn’t have a whole lot to take with you. Just your clothes along with some personal items you were allowed to take with you when you transferred to the army. Opening your suitcase, you started taking your clothes and shoes out of your closet. Once that was taken care of, you start cleaning around the room. Cleaning out the refresher, your small kitchenette, the floors; all of it.

Good. The task made you feel slightly better about leaving behind the life you had here. When you’re sure you everything scrubbed clean and the trash thrown out, you slumped onto your bed and sighed heavily.

You reached for your data pad on your night-stand, then groaned. Kriff. You forgot to clean out the nightstand too. It wasn’t much since it was just a small drawer you had to clean out so it wouldn’t take long.

Rummaging blindly, you took out pieces of flimsi. Unimportant, you thought as you analyzed them, then tossed them into the trash. The last thing you take out of there brought a stab to your heart.

It’s his DC-17. He gifted it to you that day he left to go on a mission.

You let out a shaky breath. Ironic, wasn’t it? That the one thing you had left of Fives was what took the shot to his chest. What took him away from you.

You let the blaster clatter to the floor, shoulders shaking uncontrollably from the silent sobs that emitted from your mouth. The wounds from your heart  reopened as you sank to the floor, knees drawn to your chest, as the tears and grief cascade for the umpteenth time.

Why did he have to die? You hadn’t given him a proper goodbye when he left Ringo Vinda, not knowing it was the last time you would.

“Why?” you whimpered pathetically to no one, breathing raggedly against the foot of your bed. You stayed crouched like that for a while.

Okay.

You breathed in.

Enough of this.

You’re tired of doing the same thing almost every day.

Using your shirt, you cleaned up your face and tried to get up, staggering from the lightheadedness from crying so much.

You were tired and you wanted to forget, to do something. To numb this.

Walking to your kitchenette, you opened your mini fridge and took the only thing that still remained there: a bottle of Chandrilan raava. It was almost halfway empty. Still enough to do the job. Plus, you were leaving so you might as well finish it all now, you thought to yourself as you, brought it to your bed.

You turned on your own personal datapad and flicked through the holonet, searching to put on a movie or something. You settled for a random documentary; you didn’t bother to see what it was. Propping the datapad on a pillow, you took a long swig from the bottle letting the alcohol burn down your throat. You grimaced at the taste at first but soon got over it and let the booze run its course.

You took a sip while watching the images on the screen bleakly, then took another sip. Then another, and another…and another…

Your eyes drooped and you let them rest.

A pair of lips began to kiss a trail from the corner of your mouth down to your neck playfully. You giggled at the sensation cracking your eye open to peer up at him. At Fives.

“There’s that pretty smile,” he said with that cheeky grin of his. He shifted to lay behind placing a kiss to the back of your neck before tucking your head beneath his chin. “Mind if I join you.”

You clasped your hand over his bringing it to your chest. “Of course.”

“What are you watching anyway?” he asked after a beat of silence, he nuzzled his goatee into your neck making you squeal.

“Stop it!” You pushed his face away while laughing wholeheartedly. You turned to face him and smiled. “I have no idea what I’m watching honestly.”

He watched you for a moment then hovered over to kiss you tenderly. You sighed into his mouth, kissing him back while tangling your fingers through his dark hair and bringing his head in forward to deepen the kiss. He groaned in response at the feeling and your heart is pounding erratically at what’s happening.

Stars, how you missed this. Missed the feeling of his warm lips and his strong arms wrapped around you. You didn’t want to stop, kissing him frantically. Fives was here and you weren’t letting him go.

His tongue brushed against your teeth in silent permission and you part your mouth to let him taste you. You shuddered when he licked into your mouth and gripped at his back.

“You’ve been drinking,” he mumbled into your mouth.

You tugged at his bottom lip and broke away from his lips. “Want some?” You reached behind for the bottle only to see it empty.

“Nevermind,” you chuckled breathlessly, lying back down.

Fives moved to take the bottle from you to set it by your bedside table. “You don’t need it (Y/N).”

Your hands brushed along the planes and of his face, observing the way the light catches those beautiful golden-brown eyes, his dark brows, that sharp nose you love so much, his neatly trimmed goatee; you seared his face to your mind. Soon, fresh hot tears leaked out from the corners of your eyes as you gaze at your lover.

“Hey,” he whispered, brushing the tears away with his thumb. “What’s the matter, cyare?”

You traced a finger over his tattoo placed over his right temple, trying to form a sentence.

“I miss you everyday Fives…” you said hoarsely, your bottom lip quivering. “Every waking day.”

Fives bumped his forehead against yours. “But I’m here now.”

“No…” you shook your head at him. “You’re gone.”

He was staring at you with a blank expression. It startled you the way his demeanor changed after saying that.

“I’m not gone,” he relayed, tapping your temple with his finger. “Not in there I’m not.”

You smacked his hand away from your face in hurt and moved to sit up at the end of your bed, hugging your arms to yourself.

“I don’t know why I can’t move on from you,” the words tumbled out of your mouth in a cry. “I try, but you’re everywhere Fives!”

You didn’t hear him come near you nor did you flinch when he hugged you from behind.

“You have to,” he murmured into your ear. “You must leave me behind love. It’s not healthy for you to be reminiscing about me.”

“How?” you trembled beneath his touch. “Tell me, how do I move on from you?” Your chest began to heave in more sobs. “I love you, Fives…”

You heard a loud banging coming from the walls.

You turned around to look at Fives questioningly. He was smiling at you before brushing a finger along your cheek.

“You’ll see how,” was all he said, then he kissed you.

The banging noise grew louder and you shot up in fright from your sleep with a gasp.

You looked around the room disoriented from your dream. What the hell was that?

The empty bottle was still clutched in your hand and you set it aside.

Wait. What time was it?

You snatched up your data pad from the bed to check the time.

0900.

Oh god! You were supposed to be long gone hours ago.

The banging, you found out, came from the door.

You stumbled out of bed almost falling over from the dizziness that clouded your head. Your foot stepped on the DC-17 blaster you left overnight, a reminder of what happened last night.

The knocking continued and you huffed taking the blaster and shoving it down your back pocket.

You opened the door and met the eyes of a bewildered Rex.

“Oh, Rex,” you said faintly. “Something wrong?”

You must’ve looked like such a damn disaster, no doubt reeking of booze based on the way he’s staring at you.

He got over his initial shock then cleared his throat.

“We need to talk.”

A/N: A huge and special thanks to @chaotic-noceur for beta-reading this fic! Kay has saved me from perpetual embarrassment with this one-shot.

Tag list: @chaotic-noceur (if you want to be tagged in any future oneshots I make or tagged in a fic with a specific character, comment, PM me, or go to my asks if you want!

#arc trooper fives #arc trooper fives x reader #this is awful

[greaterlandscapes]

My Dean Blunt Rotation aka High Fidelity Left A Bad Taste in My Mouth

For the past 2 to 3 months, my listening habits were teetering to an end; mostly via burnout by spontaneously listening to local artists daily and less likely of a musical discovery drought, whereas my interests of a certain artist or genre hasn't found its, sort of, "eureka", moment per se. I've been feeling less enthusiastic over the things i listen to since my friends have gradually lost their flare when it comes to discovering/exploring untapped parts of the music realm. Thus, in return, my enthusiasm not being reciprocated. It leaves an empty feeling from someone who has been yearning social interaction, may it be media being latched on the topic - it's a feeling that's been guilt-tripping me ever since I was stranded in the other end of the metro. I feel closed off, exposed to the crippling loneliness the lockdown has punished us: a defacto solitary confinement in a national level. Our act of staying online is also an act of staying alive outside.

To be fair though, it's a valid move to not boomerang compliments/gripes over an art you haven't consumed due to someone's autonomy. Your able body being to consume the art you wish to finish with free time is a luxury in of itself. The art is then failed to serve its purpose to reach its goal: You have squiggly lines heading straight to oblivion rather than swirling in the earlobes of a wandering cyber nomad. We, eventually, need to find something that could help us exit, rather than escape, from capital. We, in return, do not shut ourselves from the outside. Instead, we then tend to avoid the stress of protocols and outdoor fascism; Not avoid the indoor liberalism that is eating us alive and online. It's a capital punishment we never knew we signed up for ever since the onslaught of the virus and the state. Art for art's sake is nonexistent now, always has been, it seizes to ever since we went inside. Feeding off of a holographic meatloaf coming from a glowing screen. We have a real-life Karen acting as a nightlight in our rooms.

The COVID lockdown made us listen to music — both for better, for worse. For one, it made us pass most days. You could say the same for any sort of media: film, mixed media art, or whatever pre-Covid activity that sprung up during our time in isolation. For music, however, there was an uptick of new listeners that made others Wheel-of-Fortune the fuck out of their music discoveries in sites like RateYourMusic, Bandcamp, or even Sophie's Floorboard. We've continued to expand and became more open change of opinions and be less of a jackass towards someone else's opinions. On second thought, our opinions have been catalogued, leaving more notes than actual footprints of our previous listens. Our new discoveries made new bands and re-emerging bands, bands who faded to obscurity, crawl back in the surface with newfound interest from younger listeners (ie Panchiko, Jai Paul, and Dean Blunt) and this glowing, previously unseen and unexpected overwhelming support from fans of departed artists (ie SOPHIE, MF DOOM)

For the other, we've hogged gratuitous amounts of media, resulting into losing our primary direction as to how we want to consume our media based on the preconceived notions of what we want in our art. There is goodness in becoming directionless when you think about it, but there comes a cost to our identity as music listeners. Instead, we end up widening our tangents, falling in endless rabbit holes, having zero chances to emerge from the surface. In fact, i refuse to call it a "rabbit hole" instead i'd rather call it a "pipeline" of sorts — transitioning casual music fans into a full on, different, unique versions of themselves that would define them when laws and protocols have eased in the outside world. Our act of staying online has either made most of us break our character or enliven our past selves. The music pipeline is now more apparent, stretching the norms of what was once alienated by a silent majority, but now accepted as an acceptable form of expression. The more music we are exposed to has made casual listeners stranged out or react in ways that our personality have betrayed us or deemed not as acceptable to them. Still, not changing anything that was prominent pre-pandemic. Liberal cop behavior is stronger, now more dangerous than it ever was once perceived by the outside world.

HIGH FIDELITY? NO, THANK YOU.

Imagine a situation inside of a record, pre-pandemic of course, where you do not feel like lifting a record out from the shelf, instead, you window shop just for the sake of windowshopping. Capital and media made us think that going to record shops is a semi-productive activity. The age of discovery has died ever since High Fidelity romanticized and normalized the incelage of horny record diggers. Does this movie age well, yeah sure it does, for old 90s nerds at least. But did it translate well over in the past 20 or more years of events and tragedies that unfolded in pre-9/11 America? No it didn't. It was an age of free expression, only liberals would dream of whenever they take a sip of Guinness beer in their favorite dive bar.

Mind you, over a couple of months ago, it was my only chance in seeing why this movie was the talk of the town back when it was released. There's music, yeah, and attractive leading leadies, yeah, it has everything a 90s kid would love to salivate and drop their gonads over while they watch this movie. I obviously did not live to see the movie on opening day but i could imagine the scent that came out of that movie theater with attendees donning windbreakers and The Who shirts with popcorn dressing stains on their plastic cups. If there was a Filipino counterpart to this movie, i'd bet corporate champions Eraserheads and Rivermaya would soundtrack their music over and have either Tado or have Boy 2 Quizon, but i sense it to age like milk more than it could age like fine wine due to the senseless jokes one can execute in a Cubao or Cartimar record store.

John Cusack is obviously the incel in question here: a damaged, vengeful ex who constantly fails to live his partner's expectations and weaponizes his personality over the situations that has nothing to do with his interests. I spent the entire time being absolutely disgusted over the spineless responses of John Cusack's leading character. The movie then treads on flashbacks with John Cusack's failed relationships and what he could do to move on from each and one of them. If i could stand a SONA for 3 hours then I can't stand John Cusack being the dull entry point to incel, making more reasons why you should hate record store clerks who don't give an iota of shits to someone's inviting rapport. High Fidelity is opium for massive music circle jerks who can't take a single breathe of fresh air or a single quota of touching grass. There's more targeting weak and inferior guys and hot women who dump dumb overconfident dudebros more than the actual "music recs" in the entire movie. The more I think about this movie, the more I realize how our personality is in line towards Dick, the record store being unmercifully dunked on by the movie's two leading characters. He's an angel in the world of cynical bastards, witnessing both demons pitchforking record store customers in the ass while they're purchasing the latest Sonic Youth album.

I believe that Jack Black, the dark horse of High Fidelity, has a pleasing personality more than an irritating demeanor due to this behavior in the record store. In fact, outside of the record store, Jack Black doesn't seem to take the business is your pleasure act pretty seriously. Unlike John Cusack's character he brought his obsession over involving a record in an important memory/point of his life. There is so much stuff that has happened outside of the record store, so much for Rolling Stone and NME being the bible of music at the time, endlessly christening and shilling artists that believe to become the second coming of the Beatles. The music references here however are treated as fluff than it is a mechanism that would drive the senseless plot forward. If anything, there are events pointed out in the event that doesn't have anything to do with the life of the characters.

If anything, this movie did a great job at capturing the feeling of music bros being dumped on the wayside by a mature set of characters and how their current conditions aren't perfumed by the studios' liking of having to Cinderella story the shit out of a bunch of normal record store owners. The reality is in the reaction of one's social capital being invaded and we're here to witness how those reactions panned out in 2021. This is a villainous depiction of music nerds being the salt of the earth, the bane of all media discussion, still reflective of the insufferable salt of cyberspace found in music forums like 4chan and RYM. High Fidelity is a pipeline of 90s musicology, a dreaded fever dream of an owner waiting for the decade to end, trends ossifying and re-emerged by the hands of nostalgia-savvy individuals. It was, at its time, every music-movie nerd's excuse equivalent of Scott Pilgrim VS. The World. There are memories worth remembering and cherishing, and this movie isn't one of them.

DEAN BLUNT, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

In the past two weeks I've been fancying myself into sitting down and listening to different projects from the ever elusive, UK-based sound artist Dean Blunt. The first time i chanced upon his music wasn't too long ago - albeit a recent one in the time of COVID - was when I randomly stumbled upon his records at a Spotify recommendations section under John Maus (yeah lol i know the implications whenever his name is mentioned) - but then i was enamored by his online presence so quickly I put everything down and dedicated an hour or two researching about this man's music.

Other than the fact that his album "The Redeemer" wasn't the best record to start off in journeying through his discography: ending up disgusted and borderline bored even and I was more likely to lambast this record's aimless, pretentious art-pop inflections. By the end of the day, it was a preference long solidified by his undying fanbase. According to his hardcore fans, the music isn't really music, evaluating it as a free form of sound art, rather than sticking to a structured and conventional cues; the genre is nullified by most analysts of the arts. The growing interest of the general public towards Dean Blunt's pranks and antics have long appealed to my tastes as a chaotic neutral individual. Pranks that are well executed to piss off UK gallery connoisseurs and entertain ironic attendees who'd shit on the art piece rather than participate in it.

More of the resources I've found about Dean Blunt online: numerous aliases and collaborations that lasted around almost 2 decades. The most notable of all them, at least for my money, are either Hype Williams, a duo consisting of Dean and frequent collaborator Inga Copeland, and Babyfather, an art performance parodizing the pirate radio culture in the UK. I have not delved enough in Blunt's body of work to evaluate everything and what i could synthesize from it. For now, I enjoyed it as a form of entertainment. Well, color me impressed because Dean Blunt isn't clowning around, he, in fact, makes blissful and transcendental music from left to right.

Dean Blunt was the only few artists that made me want to binge on their discography. His movements in his music has attracted this pesky listener who thinks that being mysterious is a plus. I mean, look at me who thinks The Paul Institute, Panchiko, and Burial are the greatest artists that have walked the face of the earth.

The most I've enjoyed from Dean Blunt's discography are his mixtapes and collaborations: preferably his Soul Fire and ZUSHI, both of which were packaged as B-sides or supplemental releases rather than major releases such as the Babyfather project or the Black Metal releases. His knack for blurring the lines between genres still fascinate me as of this writing, and it continues to amaze me how he doesn't seize to compromise his art, he's here to prove a point and it sells quite well despite the lack of direction in his music. Blunt's music has more aggressive and hazy texture than the hollow, wide, soulless structure of art-pop/hypnagogic pop released today. He creates terrains from the rubble of his country's current shortcomings. The music overlaps the actual intentions with abstract concepts, becoming deconstructed down the line. In Babyfather, noise music coincides with Blunt's amateurish rapping. In Black Metal, Blunt isolates himself along with the assisted skeletal guitar playing. Both projects throwing all tropes in a vaccum alongside Blunt, who he himself would sought to become a personification of a musical void.

--

(Excerpt from the Babyfather album review in TinyMixtapes)

--

Dean Blunt is an entity that wishes to become one person, but no, this isn't a figure in a specific art form; this isn't Banksy, this isn't Bob Ong, this is made by one person, clearly it is if you listen closely, and it's been entrancing me ever since his presence was felt on the horizons of the internet. Dean Blunt, what the actual fuck.

#dean blunt #high fidelity #music #film #music review #2021 #hype williams #Youtube

[dream-realm]

When you claim that socialist policies will make people dependent on the government or that the demand for them is proof that people want to be lemmings I don’t understand. What is the role of a government to you? Not trying to pick at you I am curious. What are your ideas for how I’m supposed to make sure I can get medical attention or a home? do I build my own and treat myself with herbs? Okay I’m teasing but I’m genuinely curious because I could learn maybe

(no worries, not taking you in bad faith) sorry to be long. id be curious for any thoughts, despite the vagueness..

not totally sure what you mean here. what would the role of the govt be with respect to those policies, how theyre implemented, function, etc. ? or what, in my opinion, should the role of govt be in a more general sense? i think i was more so venting about and criticizing the former than providing or developing any concrete thoughts on or about the latter, mostly because the role of govt per se is a large and obviously complicated issue. and i dont think we need an exhaustive normative theory of the role of govt to critique how it functions now and would function should policies of that nature be adopted.

the policies (i know we are being incredibly vague) will make people dependent on the govt, and are proof of their being lemmings lol, in the sense that they encourage us to organize ourselves and live our lives in a way that doesnt allow for or promote real self reliance and healthy reliance upon others. nothing most anyone does nowadays is done independently or with a small community: youre educated by the state, you are not involved in growing any of your food or producing any of your medication, youre under serious surveillance, even if you own a house or land you must always pay tax on it, etc etc. im quite aware that we cant all synthesize insulin at home, so hopefully you get what im suggesting. also, where its possible, i do think it would be good to build our own homes and treat ourselves and those we know medically, again, where its possible. 

consider the universal healthcare example. im not *morally* opposed to this idea. nevertheless i seriously doubt that if e.g. sanders became president and got this legislation through congress the program would work as people hope. sorry, though the logic works in the sense that, if everyone was forced into the program, there would be more money payed into it, etc etc, this doesnt “prove” that it would function effectively at all. nor does comparing the united states to other countries with far different population, demographics, history, govt. “prove” that it would work. people must realize that they are trying to shoehorn this idea into our govt system, the one that exists as we speak. there will be no grand overhaul of our govt and administrative state in one fell swoop. 

think about how this applies to something like coronavirus specifically. people have pushed the idea that if we had a universal healthcare system, we could have better adapted to the virus. for starters, as weve seen, the healthcare system itself is far from the only factor at play in terms of effective, unified response. we have a strong executive, and state govt, and thats not changing. theres also this idea surrounding how funds are moved around. govt says e.g. “we dont have the money” etc. we know they have it. but overhauling the healthcare system does not necessarily change how the govt budget works. in our system, the funds are earmarked for different places. there may be emergency clauses, but thats how it works. what makes you think that executive and state govt wont complicate the process of moving funds from one place to another, even during emergency? thats a dynamic literally playing out right now. and nothing about universal healthcare *necessarily* changes that. 

sorry to be so long, but i do enjoy this, though i dont have the attention to make really detailed arguments on here so i apologize for being abstract. suppose everything went perfectly, control was centralized to the healthcare and relevant govt bureaucracy, they have the discretion to use funds how they see fit, and especially suppose somehow everyone involved in this process at every single level is benevolent. do you know the type of data theyd have on you? everything health related. and everything could be justified: tracking, forcing you to stay inside, etc. and people would accept it because they wanted this system and this is the only way it can function effectively and efficiently. it only works better with increased coercion, and you know the means for this are already in place, and it obviously already happens in other ways. think especially now about what it means for the police to function “effectively” and whats justified to that end.

 i dont want faceless uncountable bureaucratic control over every aspect of my life.  i dont care if it functions perfectly out of sight. in my mind this continues a way of living our lives thats very much disconnected from humanity and community. the uncritical demand for these things is, to me, reflective of--sorry to be melodramatic--something like a new epoch in human history. im not interested in living in a world in which we dont attempt to directly take care of each other to the extent that we can. people often rightly criticize the myth of the nuclear family, and im quite aware theres many ways in which its state sanctioned, but god, at least many people can live through that in such a way that they love and care for their families, neighborhood, etc. where your care for other people is real and tangible and not facilitated through tax contributions from faceless nobodies. im not a critic of electoral liberal govt because i dont think we should help people, or that everyone has to pull themselves up, look out for only themselves etc. im a critic of it, and these socialist policies as existing within it, because they function with a conception of humanity and human life that i find completely alien and perverse. the willingness to think of myself and others in highly abstract terms that are neatly serviced by a benevolent govt is not natural to me. nor do i believe a system like this would foster already existing and dying forms of community. we are upholding a system that is allowing people to be born into the world in such a way that thinking of human life in these terms is natural for them, it becomes hardwired to some extent. im not that human, and im not interested in existing in that world. and i think in a very deep sense, if you accept the predominant liberal ideology etc., you actually dont have obligations to other people, at least not of the right sort, and thats dangerous and wrong. its not natural  to think of ourselves in terms and parts of these massive systems. i worry this is so predominate that theres no possibility for a popular appeal to anything else. and the predominance of it pervades everything, democrat, republican, socialist, etc

[unfreethinker]

Jeremiah 30:17

It was a fine Tuesday morning June 3rd, I started the day with a regular meeting with the team until I suddenly felt a massive pain in my left ear. It was hard to breath but I thought it was nothing and continue with my work. The pain lasted until the afternoon but came back in the next morning. Same pain. But that time, longer than before. I could feel the pain whole day even at night. I took aspirin but it didn’t help. I kept changing my sleeping positions, getting up, sitting down, nothing worked. I have never experienced this kind of pain before. The backside of my left ear was burning hot, my left face was in pain, touching it was a no no. My neck was stiff and I had massive migraine. I cried but it just made it worse. I couldn’t sleep. 

Day 3. I started the day still with the pain and migraine. But I just couldn’t take it anymore so I asked my sister to make a doctor appointment. The doctor’s schedule is 5-7.30PM so I had to wait and continue with my work. In the afternoon I lied down as sitting for couple of hours was too painful. I managed to take an hour nap. I was so worried as I had no idea what was the problem with my ear. All I know was, it hurted like hell and I could die anytime. I used to think that ear pain was a childhood disease. I was wrong. I needed help.

My body temperature was 38 degree when I arrived at the hospital. The security guy was hesitant but still let me in, so I proceeded with the registration. My sister and a good friend who were also there told me that my left face was a bit swollen and asked me to ask the doctor later. By that time, all I needed was doctor’s help. The nurse checked my body temperature once again and and it was 38.2 degree, she had to ask for a (I assume) senior nurse’s approval, or else I’d be treated in an isolated room kind of thing. It was understandable during this pandemic season.”You tend to have fever when you have problem with ears, so it’s ok, you may proceed with her. The doctor is ready”. Phew! Thank God! 

“How is it, Melvi?” was her first question. 

 “Well obviously not good, doc” (and obviously a self talking lol) 

I didn’t explain much and she started right away with her examination. She started with checking my ear and neck. IT HURTED SO MUCH! I accidentally warded off her hand from my ear and she took a step back out of shock (sorry, doc!). I saw her put the otoscope inside my left ear, and checked in the screen in front of me. The gel on top of the magnifying lens gave a cold sensation in my ear, but hurted so much. My outer ear was fine,but the middle and inner was swollen and red. She checked my neck and shoulder “Doesn’t seem like you have 38 degree fever tho”, and even asked the nurse to check it once again. She then said “ You are not coughing, no problem with tooth, seems like there is only mild infection. The long term used of earphone could be the reason. As you can see, there is swelling in the blood vessel, a small one, nothing to worry. Try not to use earphone in your left ear. Eat soft foods to avoid too much motion in the ear”. She continued the examination by asking me questions, how did it start, if I felt any hearing loss, problem with balancing my body/ movements etc. It was a quick session and she gave prescription contains antibiotic and other meds. I asked her for a strong pain reliever because I haven’t slept for 2 consecutive nights. We left the hospital with a heart full of hope that the medicine will work.

We prayed together with my sister that night for my recovery and I took the medicine given by the doctor “Lord, please let me sleep tonight. Please heal me”. I slept before 12 and woke up before 8! Praise the Lord! I took medical leave that day so I continued to sleep for another one hour. I woke feeling fresh, even though the pain was still there. I barely talked. Every move I made gave me pain in my ear. I sat still almost all the time. The medication was for 3 days, and I decided to go to the hospital again to check. That time, it has been a week since I had this sickness. 

Second meeting with the doctor, she checked my eardrum, outer and inner canal (if I remember it correct) with the otoscope. This time she examined my mouth and throat. All clear. The swelling in the ear is gone, but it was still red-ish. This time she said “It was a viral infection. Virus could come from anywhere, influenza, cough, or anywhere else”. Another prescription was given to me, but with lower dossis. “This should be fine. You will be recovered soon”. “Amen to that”, said me. We ended up talking about my work abroad in the Philippines, the foods, culture, tourist attraction and so many things. I forgot how did we start talking about all of those stuffs but I felt relieve, she is nice doctor. She never limited the time, and always answer all of my questions. I appreciate two ways communication. She even shared her mobile number, in case I have questions. I can see that she took responsibility of her patient.  

Same with my third meeting. I was satisfied with her service, even though  the waiting time for the insurance confirmation took forever lol.

14 days passed but there were times that the pain came back for a short period of time. I was still worried as I hoped for a full recovery after taken all off the medications. I decided to record the time every time I felt the pain; 4 days in a week. I went to see the doctor and this time, the swelling is 90% gone! She mentioned that it’s called referred otalgia. I learned that Otalgia is actually an ear-related pain; primary otalgia, when the pain originates from the ear itself and referred otalgia, when the cause of pain originates outside the ear. She has checked my ear, mouth and nose; all fine and healthy, the last possibility is referred otalgia. I asked for whatever radiology I could take, and she made a request/reference letter for a panoramic radiology, only if I still feel any pain in the next 2 weeks.  

It’s July 2nd when I wrote this blog. I feel no pain for more than a week now! I am beyond happy and grateful. I can talk freely, I can use my headphone, I can eat whatever I want, I can laugh! 

“But I restore you to health and heal your wounds” Jeremiah 30:17.

I would like to express my gratitude to dr. Asterina Suhardi, Sp. THT-KL for extending God’s blessing to heal me. 

#earpain #otalgia #hospital #jakarta #healing #prayer #jeremiah

[news-mashable-yahoopartner-blog]

How a college meme group regained control after a hacker took it hostage

It's Troll Week on Mashable. Join us as we explore the good, the bad, and the ugly of internet trolling.

Facebook meme groups are the lifeblood of modern college culture. For one school, a power struggle between a hacker and shitposters became a bonding experience for a whole student body. 

If there's anything that this generation of young people can do without fail, it's shitposting. In an surprisingly nuanced entry on Urban Dictionary, a user defines shitpost as "any content on the internet whose humor derives from its surreal nature and/or its lack of clear context." Differing from memes in that a meme's humor "comes from its repeatability," a shitpost's humor stems from its tendency to ridicule a situation by making something out of nothing. 

The art of shitposting is best exemplified in this bizarre saga of an Iraqi hacker bent on obtaining passports, a college meme group held hostage for incomprehensible demands, and the girl whose tenacity for trolling reclaimed it.

SEE ALSO: The only good thing left on Facebook is private meme groups

What does Addman want anyway?

Berklee College of Music in Boston is a small school whose social culture, like many smaller academic institutions, is strengthened by memes. Its seminal Facebook group, Overheard at Berklee, functioned as a town hall for students to poke fun at the administration, promote their work, and share the most ridiculous snippets of conversation they overheard on campus. 

Brendan Cornish, a current Berklee student who provided the screenshots of the group's shenanigans, calls Overheard a "huge part" of the school's culture.

"It lets off-campus students like me feel like a part of the community, and it helps everyone develop a sense of Berklee identity," he said over Facebook Messenger. "It's fun to have a shared sense of humor in what feels like an in-group."  

But in March 2017, that all changed when one of the admins' Facebook accounts was hacked. 

Image: screenshot courtesy of Brendan cornish 

Under the compromised account, the hacker was able to remove all of Overheard's admin and moderation team, and establish himself as the sole controller of the group. He quickly changed the group's name to "The Iraq virus was here" in Arabic, according to Google Translate.

"Having difficulty telling if this was a move by the White House to make us live in fear or not," one member posted in the group. "Sad reacts," another member posted. 

"People were confused because it's mostly a meme page," Berklee alum and active Overheard member Alejandro told me over a video chat. He asked to only be referred to by his first name. "And naturally most of the responses were just people A: Being confused, B: Making memes about it, which became considerably easier with the first thing that Addman said." 

In his first public statement in his new digital domain, he announced, "I.m hacker. And. Hacked the addman."

Image: screenshot courtesy of brendan cornish

From then on, Overheard members referred to him as  "Addman" or in some cases, "The Addman."

"Next thing you know, it's just shitposts. Everywhere," Alejandro said. "The entire group is flooded with memes. Flooded with memes about this mysterious hacker, flooded with people sending screenshots of them messaging him, and the hacker occasionally responding."

As people tried to figure out what the fuck was going on in their group, they inundated Overheard with offers for free grams of weed, jokes about alerting WikiLeaks, and attempts at sending Addman mixtapes. 

Then he revealed what he hacked the group for: "Photo passport." In return for "passport English," he promised to "give you drub." 

Image: screenshot courtesy of brendan cornish

Image: Screenshot courtesy of brendan cornish

That, of course, sparked a fresh wave of shitposts about what he meant by "drub." Some theorized that Addman had drastically misspelled "group," while others joked that he was offering drugs. 

Students began coming up with conspiracy theories about Addman; some believed that it was an elaborate hoax by another Berklee student who was ambitiously trying to pull off the ultimate shitpost. 

Sure that Addman was just another Berklee kid, Alejandro messaged the hacker.

"I thought it was fucking hilarious, I added the guy, sent him messages on Facebook," Alejandro said. "But I totally thought this was a fucking joke, and sent stuff to the guy. And then I went through the guy's profile and it had been there for a while. It was a real Iraqi guy."

Image: screenshot courtesy of alejandro

Image: screenshot courtesy of alejandro

Image: screenshot courtesy of alejandro

Image: screenshot courtesy of alejandro

How one girl tried to save it 

Amid the chaos, Berklee student Emma — who we'll refer to only by her first name  — was concerned. 

"I thought all of the memes that came out of it were funny," she said over Facebook Messenger. "But when he started deleting the other admins and changed the name I got a little worried. Everyone was just making light of this ridiculous situation." 

She decided to take matters into her own hands, and messaged him: "Are you into kinky shit?"

"I figured nobody was going directly to the source of the memeage and I wanted to try my best to get the group back," Emma said. 

Addman replied with his best attempt at sexting, messaging Emma gems like "Let's get your body up," and "Send me your picture in the bathroom to raise my appetite." 

She replied with a photo of her foot haphazardly pointed in front of her shower. As Cornish writes in his Imgur album chronicling the wild chain of events, "it is still unclear if Addman's appetites were raised." 

Image: screenshot courtesy of brendan cornish

"I thought the whole thing was such a joke," Emma said. "It was probably 1 a.m. and I was laying in bed being a troll, lol." 

Addman, however, was determined to get his passport. His demands were unclear; at one point, he posted, "Hi I want Facebook account creation date2005 ... I will give you the group." 

His grasp on the English language also seemed to improve with every post. An hour after demanding a Facebook account from 2005, he posted, "Hello, I want personalized photo IDs and passports in exchange for that I will return to you to download personal IDs or passports in the comments." 

Who wouldn't risk some lighthearted identity fraud for adminship to a Facebook meme group? 

Undeterred by the threat of never getting Overheard back, Berklee students responded with an onslaught of shitposts. Running with the classic trope of ripping off young creatives, one member even offered to pay Addman in exposure.

Image: screenshot courtesy of brendan cornish

Image: screenshot courtesy of brendan cornish

Image: screenshot courtesy of brendan cornish

Image: SCREENSHOT COURTESY OF BRENDAN CORNISH

"It's almost surreal," Alejandro said, still astonished that it all happened.

This whole situation is like a testament to shitposting itself. When presented with absurdism, why not respond with absurdism? If anything, the Overheard reaction to being hacked exemplifies the Millennial and Gen Z love for nihilistic humor — the world may be falling apart, but at least we can make jokes! 

"This is just more new content," Alejandro agreed. "And new content lets you explore old memes and ideas that you couldn't before, so people are gonna jump on that immediately. It affected all of us because everyone's in that group, and it was so ripe for the picking." 

"You saw all the regular Berklee joke subjects brought up, but adapted to the situation," Cornish concurred. "No one missed a beat."

Addman shuts it down

But Addman wasn't as entertained. He archived the group eight days after triumphantly gaining control, perhaps after being the target of constant trolling. Berklee kids made another Overheard group, but according to Emma, it "wasn't the same." 

Image: shitpost courtesy of brendan cornish

"There were thousands of members in the in the original group," she said. "Alumni, current students, and even some staff. We didn't want to lose that as a community." 

Although many former members resigned themselves to the new Overheard group, Emma was determined to regain control. While filling in friends who were out of the loop it hit her: They had to "give one last shot of getting the old group back." She redoubled on her efforts to message Addman, attempting to harangue him into making her an admin. 

"He kept pushing for me to take off my clothes and send him pictures, but I wasn't having it so kept being like, 'Maybe after you do ME a favor and make me an admin with you," she said. 

One of the friends who resolved to win back the group with her made a collage of Addman's best attempts at sexting. Gems include, "I have brought my head into my confusion," and "I am now a young man in your blades." 

Image: connor mccoy/courtesy of emma

Emma played along — when he messaged her, "I want your body," she replied with: "I need your body, as long as you got me, you don't need nobody." 

Berklee vs. Berkeley 

It seemed like Addman, like many people, confused Berklee for the larger, more well-known University of California, Berkeley. That mix up in itself is a meme within the Berklee community — at the beginning of every summer, incoming Berklee freshmen try to join the UC Berkeley Facebook group, Emma explained. 

Knowing that Addman was clueless about what school he was hacking made it infinitely more funny. In the end, it wasn't the sexting or the shower foot photo that got Addman to relinquish. Instead, Emma promised to add him to an actual UC Berkeley Facebook group.

"Music school breeds some trolls," she said.

In September 2017, months after declaring Overheard Berklee his, Addman made Emma an admin. She unarchived the group, restoring balance to the school's culture. 

"Thanks four addind my love Emma," Addman posted in UC Berkeley's Class of 2019 group after she added him, passing him off to another college Facebook group to deal with. 

Although Addman promptly unfriended everyone from Berklee and left Overheard, his reputation and impact on the school's lore lives on. 

"You could almost do a BC and AD split with before Addman and after," Cornish reflected. "The whole thing kept me up until 4 a.m. that night, and whether this is pathetic or not, was one of my most fun Berklee memories." 

Who was Addman anyway?

There's something beautiful about how cemented college social interactions are in meme culture; no matter how cliquey or divisive a class may be, an opportunity to make memes will bring them together in a way that administration-sponsored orientation events can't. On a larger scale, it hints at just how sardonic this generation is. Who can resist a good shitpost, even in times of crisis? 

More than a year after the incident, Overheard at Berklee and its spinoff group have been untouched by foreign hackers in search of passports. But one question still lingers: Who was trolling who? Was Addman the real puppet master in all of this, playing the Berklee kids like marionettes? 

"I don't know how in on the joke he was," Alejandro wondered about Addman. "I don't know if he was serious, or if he was doing this just to fuck with some dumb college students? I don't know if he was just trying to have a laugh." 

Addman appears to be living his best life as well — in May, he changed his profile picture to a saturated selfie of him wearing a snazzy maroon vest. But he hasn't stopped in quest for passports. When I messaged him for a comment on this story, he responded in typical Addman fashion. 

"Do you want to group," he asked. "I want to get a passport and return you svez group." 

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#_author:Morgan Sung #_uuid:a7782a6b-accf-39cb-b8d1-b75495818fc7 #_category:yct:001000002 #_lmsid:a0Vd000000DTrEpEAL #_revsp:news.mashable

[artsyarchangel-blog]

Gunbreaker

So i read a lot of light novels these days and so i decided to write something in a similar style. It's mostly meant to be a learning experience, purely for fun. Try to see it as that, or don't, not that it matters. The plan is to publish something every month, gradually it will become bigger and bigger. This is the idea at least. I won't really talk about the subject of this Web-Novel, see for yourself. It contains some mature content though and will gradually ramp up in that regard. 

But enough of that, just enjoy the little something i’ve written up here.

Chapter 1: Days of Justice 1 Life can be so terribly dull, so very uneventful. Going through the motions, following the daily grind it's easy to just shut off your mind and do whatever you are told. A chosen few will come to detest this truth, but only the smallest number will successfully rebel against it, without being crushed into submission. But some events make you appreciate just how easy life actually is. Events like a sudden shootout, when you find yourself surrounded by maimed corpses, blood splattered all over you in merely a second. Yes, an event like this might cure these childish thoughts of rebellion,of changing the world, but for me, they were awakened. All i felt was uncontrollable rage, like a wild beast unleashed on this world. Not that it mattered, i was only lucky to survive the first barrage and the next one would surely extinguish my life. If it wasn't for the girl, that is. I don't think i ever thanked her for that... The faint blue color of the screen was the only light source in my small room, as i chugged down another can of my valuable energy-drink. Well listen, my allowance was really small at the time and those stupid cans were expensive as hell, it's not like i had an addiction. Anyway, it was another all-nighter for me, watching my favourite shows or playing games together with a few slackers called my friends. I had school tomorrow, but what of it, this useless educational system could go straight to hell for all I cared. Still gonna go in the morning, of course, otherwise my mom would yell at me. Didn't matter, I just slept in class, you could say I mastered this technique over time. No one ever noticed. Because the teachers are stupid, completely retarded. I spent many a night like this, wasting away, basically doing nothing but diminish the energy to actually achieve something in my life. I was 15 though, gimme a break, okay? Now this night, though, this night was special and in many ways it shaped my whole future. As I browsed through meaningless videos, funny threads filled with smart people (who always seemed so much more clever than my dumb teachers) and, of course, I left my own comments, receiving praise in the thousands, by my fellow internet brethren. What joy, I felt elevated, but this happened regularly, so that is not what I am talking about. No, the night was made special the moment I opened another video titled “The truth of the wastelands”. The footage showed a small village, utterly ruined, smoke rose from the roofs while armored vehicles moved into the frame, spilling heavily-armed soldiers out of their guts. Now mind you, this is the first time I laid eyes on supposedly real firearms and it was also the first time I saw a human being die. They rushed into a hut, one of the few unscathed by what could only be an artillery-strike and dragged out a few people, bearing all the qualifications of a family. And then they just shot them, one after the other. There wasn't any sound and the footage wasn't of the highest quality, but the way the bodies, former humans, jerked after having a gun put to their head, made me sick to my stomach. Just then, the screen faded to black, showing only my reflection and my disgusted face. A message spread across the screen:”This video was taken in one of the rural areas surrounding our walled cities. This world is not safe, this world is not peaceful and we do not live in prosperity. They are lying to you. They keep you safe in your cages while they do as they please.” The message was signed by a group named “Hermes”, their logo a pair of red winged sandals on a black background. I never heard of them before, yet I felt like they were right, like they had something to say that needed to be said. Outside of the cities, such horrific crimes took place? Could it be? How was I unaware of that, how was everyone unaware of that? As I read through the comments, I slowly started to understand: “This looks fake.” “lol, take off your tinfoil-hats!” “who are these guys anyway?” “wow, nasty, they just popped her head, lmfao” “Is this real? Then someone should change this! Actually, screw that, I want to change this, I am so mad right now!!” The last message belonged to me, my true feelings, written down by a 15-year-old highschooler. Even today it makes me chuckle and before I could receive any reaction on my comment, the video was gone. I refreshed the page, there was nothing, just the error message. Now I could have just forgotten about it, there were a million reasons why this video got deleted. Maybe it violated the guide-lines of this website, maybe the contents were stolen from someone else, maybe it actually was fake and the administrator tried to prevent the spreading of such bullshit. Or maybe it was all a grand conspiracy and the government themselves deleted the video, to cover up their crimes! You are free to guess what was most plausible in my mind there. Now let me say something to my defense though, it wasn't actually that outlandish. It was like an open secret that you can not leave our five major cities. If you were born in one, you were going to die in this same metropolis. It was commonly known, obviously, nobody could cover up the fact, that the mainland of our planet was a hellish landscape, unfit to any human life. Yet people lived there, apparently and maybe seeing that triggered this anger in me, this self-righteous justice. Everyone else was just lying to themselves, because they weren't the one on gunpoint, they were safe and only later, I understood them. That it was easier this way. You were simply happier and fighting it was futile, you tried to climb a mountain without any limbs. But back then, I didn't see it that way in my youthful recklessness. Ultimately, it really didn't matter anyway. I was helpless, there was nothing I could do to help those poor people living outside the safe zones. There was nothing to be found online, I searched every nook and cranny, stumbling over baseless rumors.  One suggested that Hermes was actually the government themselves, luring in stupid teenagers and offing them once they got their personal information. I also met at least a dozen people claiming to be Hermes, but that soon proved to be just trolling. There was nothing left and it depressed me a little, I became distant to my friends, I never replied to their requests to play some games, I was obsessed with that video. How their bodies went limb, how they were meaninglessly slaughtered. Now that was my own interpretation of the scenes, for all I know this family could have been a band of mass murderers and the armed forces only exacted revenge, but in my conviction, I had to save innocent lives. Me, a failure of a student, with no exceptional intelligence to speak of. Really, if Hermes had any sense, they'd tell me to leave as soon as I made contact. Instead, after a week of frantic searches, asking around online, I received a message: “We witnessed your resolve, brother. If you still want to bring the deserved peace to this world, then join us.” 2 Embedded in this simple message was a link. The logical assumption would be that this would either lead me to some fucked up porn or a virus, ready to just disintegrate my entire system. Naturally, I clicked it without a moments hesitation. Nothing bad happened against all odds, instead I found myself in some chat room. They really were serious with me! There was no members-list, no previous message, radio-silence. I felt like I stepped into a hall of heroes, onto the round table itself, only virtually of course. My real scrawny body was still hunched over the keyboard, not knowing what to say, what message I could write. Really, I blacked out completely, I didn't even know a simple online-chat room could feel so awkward, yet here I was, frozen stiff. I typed  a simple “hello” and deleted it before I could send it. Then I wrote some eight-grader nonsense of justice and prophecies and thankfully deleted that too. I have enough cringy memories, I didn't need that one...on further thought, does one more on the huge pile really matter? Only then, he finally broke the silence: HERMES: So you want to change our fate, breaking free, destroying the influence of the five Warlords? Tell me, brother, what motivates your actions? Why do you want to join our justice? Yeah, turns out this guy was as much of a child as I was. Of course I replied enthusiastically, but at this point I  had no screen-name yet. I thought long and hard about my answer, actually only a minute, I didn't want them to think I just left. ANON: I saw the video you guys published a few days ago and since then, I simply cannot stand by while innocent lives are erased. Please let my join in your noble cause, my brothers, in your pursuit of liberation! I don't know what to say here... I could practically feel how the people on the other side of the screen laughed their asses off...is what I want to say, but in reality, I felt pretty damn proud after my convincing answer. HERMES: Very well. A good answer. Yet we see that you are still unrefined, without a strict direction. Without a plan to actually achieve our ends. Fret not, we are here to guide you in your path, but you have to take action yourself, just as you did before we found you. HERMES: Are you capable of doing that? This is your trial, identify who is responsible for these crimes, we will contact you in another week. And just like that, I was back on my homepage, unsure of what to do. The culprit? The person who is responsible? Or was this about an idea, the motive behind these actions? Come to think of it, why would they turn our planet into an unruly land, where only the strongest survive and the laws are made at the muzzle of a gun? What could be the meaning of this? I had to mull it over and most importantly I could not disappoint these internet-warriors. For all I knew they were just kids, maybe not even a group, some teenager who knew a little more about computers and managed to abuse a security-leak. There was absolutely no guarantee that Hermes was the real thing. It's just that it didn't even matter to me. I was just happy to escape my boring life, to have a sense of purpose so many teenagers are missing.  A feeling of superiority filled my very being, I was better than all these blind idiots, lying to themselves just to preserve their peaceful lives. This would all change, I'd fight to birth a new world. Or at least I was about to. 3 The following days I did nothing but research, I even skipped school, coming up with an excuse how terribly sick I am. Maybe I laid it on a little thick, my mother almost send me to the hospital, but the end-result was me sitting in front of my computer-screen, looking up everything I could think of. Some things I looked into were common knowledge, that every one of our five cities were independent states, governed by a prime minister and that there was a big conference every four years. This already struck me as odd, were they allowed to leave the cities? And wasn't it a little to convenient, five cities for five warlords? Surely there must be some sort of conspiracy on a government-level so I dug deeper, I needed to know everything of our administration down to the districtional plane. Needless to say, I found nothing and that in itself was weird. You'd expect a bunch of theories online, some baseless rumors, some insane people dedicating everything to bring some shocking truths to light, even if there is no proof. Hermes wasn't much different, after all. However, I found nothing, like the entire network was curated by some unknown source. It was scary, I seriously considered giving up, who knows what they would do to me... if they could track me. Well, I had a lot of countermeasures against that, at least I thought I did. Hacking or cracking, these were never skills I acquired, so I just relied on some tutorials to set up an impregnable barrier. Feeling safe like that, I naturally continued, but I couldn't shake this bad feeling. The only information I could gather out of direct conversations, groups similar to Hermes, just not as influential or effective. Cause when I mentioned the group, everyone held their breath, metaphorically of course. For the first time, I heard of their reputation, how they brought down the website of the government, putting their logo across the entire screen whenever you tried to access it or how their leader escaped multiple raids on his home-base, injuring the special forces in the process. I never even knew our police had a special force! It was awe-inspiring to me and more than ever, I wanted to be a part of this organization. Again, there was no proof for any of this, only my faith. Surely nobody would do such a terrible thing, just telling lies on the internet. So while I did acquire some information, true or false, no matter, I didn't really feel like inching closer to my goal. What was the reason, how could I find out? In the end I even pinned everything I found on a board in my room, feeling like some kind of TV-Detective. If my parents caught me, they might have send me to the therapist, but luckily they never entered my room without knocking first...for both our sakes. I put down all kind of names, organizations, looking for a link that shouldn't be there, evidence for some sketchy business. The video flared back into my mind, how all life left the body of this innocent woman, but it wasn't just about that, not just a reminder for the injustice I vowed to destroy. No, I looked for something, an emblem, a badge on the soldiers, maybe a number on their weapons, anything I could use. Hermes gave me nothing, our exchange took maybe five minutes, then they send me on my way, to prove myself, but what did they expect? How could a student figure this out, if no one else could? Nobody knew why we lived confined in these cities, nor when it even began. It was lost to history, maybe all accounts of a time before the metropolis were deleted, maybe destroyed in some kind of catastrophe. This was the most likely scenario, that nobody meant for this to happen, just some natural disaster scorching the earth. But if that was the case, Hermes wouldn't fight against...against someone. Who was it, I had to know! The five Warlords, yes, I remembered, but who are they? The deadline was drawing near, tomorrow, at night most likely, they would expect my answer. No sleep was found this night, not until I could come up with something, anything. The most embarrassing thing would happen if I just had no answer at all, if I'd just stay silent. Or spout some generic shit, like “The government” or “the Banks, they are responsible for our misery”. I could not let it end here! So I stayed up all night thinking about it, I continued to rack my brain in the morning, eventually, I couldn't go on any longer and just fell asleep on my desk. The sound of a notification woke me up and there it was, another message. It didn't say anything, which did nothing to ease my nervousness, only provided a link again. The sender was clear though, so there was no doubt, Hermes contacted me just like they said they would. But I still had no answer. Regardless, I had to dive in, of course, always thinking about this video. It was the only definite hint that I had, so the answer had to be in there. Who is behind all of it, what is the reason for the sorry state of our planet?  The reason...wait, it could be so simple! HERMES: Now then, Initiate. Did you find the solution to our query? I hesitated, I wasn't sure, it might be too simple, it might even be idiotic. It was all I had, however. With trembling fingers, I hammered my answer into the keys. ANON: The reason these crimes are possible, the true culprit...is the weaponry used by men. This was my answer, this was my solution. I had to wait a while for a response and every second served only to make me more anxious. HERMES:...Weaponry. Very well! This is the first  time we heard this answer, yet it strikes closest to the truth, well done! Now let us show you the true works behind our government, our true leaders. Let us talk about the five Warlords.        

#creative writing #light novel #web novel #learning #gunbreaker #chapter1 #part1