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kuronekonerochan · 4 years

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Did anyone ask for a quick description of the Portuguese people? Quick sum up based on yesterday's events.

The day the coronavirus was considered pandemic, after universities had been closed down, museums as well and all sort of events cancelled, with even some schools closed down in regions with cases, and the media being completely hysterical about the subject for the last month, with recommendations from the Health Department and Ministry to stay put, at home, besides work and regular commitments:

Half the population crowded the beaches, bars and clubs (especially young people) bc the weather was just so nice.

The other half crowded and invaded the supermarkets and wiped out all the toilet paper stock and other goods. Did anyone tell them the virus doesn't cause diarrhea?

So it's half irresponsible idiots half irational paranoid fools. Great! (*ironically cry laughs in "the flu killed like 3000 ppl here last year but nobody cared and the media wasn't panicking about it and this one will probably kill less but still it would help if the media weren't such sensationalist fearmongers and the people weren't such idiotic douchebags).

Actually this will take the course of every crisis of any kind in Portugal:

- Nobody cares. So many jokes. All is fine. The media is having a cow though and it's fun to watch. (We are also probably totally unprepared but who cares?).

- Media is on Fire. Declarations of important people are made. Mics are pointed to faces. We the people joke some more. (But seriously though, stuff is probably being prepared for it right?)

-TOTAL PANIC. MASS HYSTERIA. IRRATIONAL TUGA BEING IRRATIONAL. STOCK OF SOME KIND OF PRODUCT IS IMMEDIATELY OVER AFTER MASSIVE LINES TO BUY IT. PPL WILL NEVER RUN OUT OF IT IN THEIR LIFE TIMES. (Not joking this happened to diesel bc of a strike, we ran out long before we were supposed to bc retired ppl who hadn't taken their car out in months suddenly filled the deposit and large containers to keep in their garage - flammable ticking bomb I know. It happened to disinfectant in the swine and bird flu, and masks and even vinegar). IMPORTANT PPL BEING HARASSED BY MEDIA GIVE INCREASINGLY SNAPPY AND STUPID ANSWER.

- OH, THE INCOMPETENCE! (No matter which party is in power...and tbf this is legitimate, things tend to be handled sloppily). POLITICAL TENSION. REQUESTS FOR DISMISSAL. HEADS WILL ROLL. (And they will, there is usually one scapegoat that goes down for the whole thing instead of the collective screw up of all sides involved. Also so much corruption in the mix that may or may not be touched upon years later.

- After a few weeks people get tired of being angry or stressed and realize the world will not end, THERE WILL ALSO BE SOME FOOTBALL RIVALRY CONTROVERSY TO DRAW ATTENTION and all will be fine and dandy again despite the problem probably not being really gone yet.

#portuguese things #portugal caralho #portugal #coronavirus #ugh people

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elenirlachlagos · 4 years

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some notes on the new corona virus

Ok, since the news seems to have reached the USA and there seem to be quite a few uninformed idiots around, some notes on the corona virus.

No, I am not an expert. So no, you don’t have to trust what I say. You have the internet at your hands, do some fucking research and no, that doesn’t include tumblr or facebook posts. Try science magazines for example.

Ok, so you do not trust your national media. But be assured - if people all over the world are worried about something, that’s a good sign it’s not just local fear-mongering.

The first thing: every infection has two aspects - the person being ill and the person spreading the illness. This is very important to keep in mind.

1.) No, this is not just a cold and it is not the flu/influenza. It may share some symptoms, but it’s a different illness.

Yes, the influenza kills a lot of people. Get your fucking flu shot, corona virus or not.

We do not yet have as much information about this virus. So a lot of the following is speculation. If someone tells you that they know the exact facts then they’re lying.

There also will likely be no vaccination for this infection in 2020. There might be, but most probably not, not this year at least.

2.) “It only kills 2%”

Actually, 2% is a lot. This is close to the Spanish Flu (around 2,5%). The death rate of the seasonal influenza is less than 0.2%.

Luckily most probably the actual mortality rate is a lot lower than 2% because a lot of cases will not be recognized. Which is also a problem (see #3). Current estimates are around 0.7% (but keep in mind that this infection is new and we yet do not know much about it).

But it seems that around Wuhan the mortality rate is closer to 4% - that might be because there are so many people infected that they can not be properly treated and also not every infection might be recognized. Up to a certain amount of infected people, they can be seperated and cared for. But if the amount of infections goes up, the whole health care system might break down. Doctors and nurses will get ill, hospitals will not have enough capacity.

At this point we do not have enough facts to really know the exact mortality rate.

But one thing is sure - it’s simple maths: the more this infection spreads, the higher the total amount of deaths.

3.) Most cases are mild.

Yes, and this is actually a big problem. Influenza hits you hard and suddenly and you stay at home. Covid-19 seems to have only mild symptoms in most cases (around 80% apparently). But these people can still infect others. Compared to other viruses, the Sars-CoV-2 virus seems to have a lot of infectuous cells in the throat area which are easy to spread. A lot of infectious people might not know they are ill and infect others. The more people are infected, the more people die.

(Personally, I think the USA will be hit hard by this. Your health care system sucks. People don’t visit doctors because it’s too expensive. With no paid sick leave and in fear of losing their jobs, people will just go to work and infect more people.)

4.) Don’ts

Do not hoard face masks. They are good at protecting others from you if you are infected, but they won’t protect the wearer much. After around 20 minutes these get moist and will lose their protective effect. They are meant to be used in a medical environment - and this is also where they are most desperately needed right now.

If you suspect that you are infected, do not just show up at a hospital. Seriously, I know you Americans like your mass murderers, but potentially carrying an infection to a place where a lot of vulnerable people are gathered is just an asshole move.

Also, don’t panic. As someone said, the best we can do to prevent the spreading is use our brains.

5.) Dos

Wash your hands properly, keep your distance (if possible), don’t cough or sneeze into your hands and don’t touch your face (this one is actually quite difficult). The usual.

Last but not least: Respect the Chinese.

Yes, they screwed up big time at the very beginning but then took fast and serious action. They took measures that hardly any other nation could have taken (authoritarianism seems to be of some use in this case) and they bought us precious time.

Time is of the essence. The more spread out over time the infections are, the lesser the consequences for the health care system. The less overlap with flu season, the better. The closer to summer, the more hope that - as with many respiratory infections - the infection rate will lessen. Plus more time to develop a vaccination.

China buying us time probably saved a lot of lives around the world.

Sources (sorry, these are all in German):

Spektrum der Wissenschaft

Spiegel

plus a few others I can’t remember atm, probs mostly from the feed of @Fischblog on Twitter (who is a scientific journalist)

Stay healthy.

#corona virus #covid-19 #Sars-CoV-2 #non-fandom #it's the middle of the night so please excuse the spelling mistakes

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blkpnkwriting · 6 years

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crossfire

Jennie x Reader

Rated: M

Warnings: violence, guns, blood and injury, swearing

Word count: 2,347

It is only natural in the balance of things for opposing sides to clash.

ANON: Can I get a story where Jennie is a cop and the reader is in mafia and they are dating but Jennie doesn’t know and they each other between a crossfire between cops and mafia

In the haste to the bedroom, the blinds had not been drawn. Now, a streetlight’s orange glow fell in slats across the floor, climbing the disheveled bed, and saturated the smooth expanse of skin upon your lover’s abdomen. It completely captured your attention.

When Jennie was at your apartment, moonlight would pour upon her skin, alighting her with an ethereal aura. Here? The only light was artificial and yet, it still made her appear beautiful. Whereas before her skin seemed emit the light, it was here that she seemed to be the only warmth left in a dark world. The light didn’t reach you, leaving you in shadows. For that reason, you were drawn to touch her.

Even when you ran the pads of your fingers over her ribs, Jennie didn’t so much as stir, let alone wake up. These days, she was often exhausted. It made you sad to see her so overworked, but you knew in the end, she was doing what she loved. Jennie was protecting her city, a call she had felt since she was young, once confessed to you on a similar night. Resting your fingers on her diaphragm, you let the measured rise and fall of her breathing rock your hand like a little boat riding gentle waves. You took a moment to close your eyes and just let yourself be close to her. To feel her. Soaking up the knowledge that she was safe and sound. With you.

It was getting too much. With an inaudible sigh, your hand ghosted down Jennie’s stomach to her hip bones, just the bit that wasn’t covered by her bedsheets. It was there with the slightest bit more force that you flicked your index finger over the crest, as though you were running your finger over a knife’s edge. There were plenty more ways that Jennie was beautiful, but in this moment, you couldn’t help but admire her physical beauty.

To the department, Jennie was still considered new. To you, what you saw behind closed doors, Jennie was seasoned. Being a police officer was hard, admirable work. She willingly put herself in a position, that with today’s society, was often hated. Somehow, she did her job well, all with a smile on her face. Of course, she could be serious. There many things about her career that warranted that. But when she had the opportunity, she used her given power to prove that she was a good person, protecting the innocent. Not some monster the media painted from a different perspective.

The real monster was the person beside her.

Jennie had no idea what you really did. What you told her was that you worked in an accounting firm. It explained why you had a nicer apartment than she did, but hardly. While your job actually did include money, it was certainly not by legal terms.

You were the messenger in a broad underground drug circuit. Technically, you weren’t in the mafia. The only thing that dirtied your hands was laundered money, the only weapons you were armed with was your tongue in the form of threats. But when you rely on technicalities, you already know it’s wrong. Just because you weren’t technically a member of the mafia growing in your city doesn’t mean you weren’t in league with them. After all, they were the ones who put money in your bank account and posted security detail around your apartment — you also happened to be in a position to be hated, if not more than Jennie.

Flopping back on the bed, you stared up at the darkened ceiling. The contrast was too ironic, Jennie cast in a heroic shine while you remained in the shadows. In the beginning it had been easier. To lie to her, to hide the truth. Back then, it was genuinely easier. The mafia didn’t fly in the face of the law, and the police didn’t laser focus on the source of the rising crime. Months passed, you bumped up the ranks, and as you saw the efforts of your messenger work showering into your hands, you also saw how it affected Jennie.

As if she knew she was a part of your thoughts, Jennie turned in her sleep, shuffling closer to you. It was reflex now, the way you reached out and wrapped her up in your arms to close the gap between your bodies. A hum bubbled up the back of your throat at how warm she was. Not just against your skin, but the sensation you felt seeping through your body. It was like being near Jennie comforted you to your soul. Chasing away the numb that had settled since you forfeited your morals and accepted the life you had now.

Jennie nuzzled against your neck, her nose brushing your jugular. It felt protective, and it made you smile. It was just like her. Even in her sleep, Jennie would protect you. You noted long ago how the littlest gestures spoke of the natural guardian inside her — pulling you back by the crook of your elbow right before an unaware bicyclist nearly ran you over, a hand flying to your chest when she was forced to brake abruptly, watching every drink you ever took at a bar to make sure that it hadn’t been tampered with when you weren’t paying attention.

You never cried. It wasn’t your thing. Maybe it had something to do with that numb that blanketed your body, because as you laid there with Jennie in your arms, tears sprung to your eyes. The empty ceiling disappeared as you screwed your eyes shut. Regulate your breathing, keep the tears at bay. There was no way you would wake up Jennie in the middle of the night because you were crying like a baby. Not when she definitely needed the rest.

Not when you knew that if she woke up and questioned you, you would tell Jennie everything.

Another night, another collect.

You took the last dying drag of your cigarette and then flicked the butt into the gutter. Behind your back laid the brick of a pizza store after close, where you knew one of your more prominent drug dealers worked late. Also nursing his cigarette was one of the mafia’s bodyguards, standing at the mouth of the alley. Watching. You knew this bodyguard, Craig. When he first told you his name, you thought it was a joke, a basic title given by the mafia to protect his identity. He never did give you an answer, but you suspected you were right. A lot of your jobs included him, or one of the other bodyguards, provided by the higher-ups to make sure transactions went “smoothly.” That was code for intimidating deserters and making sure no one saw anything they weren’t supposed to.

The whine of metal bounced down the narrow aisle, and you cast a side-long gaze at the young man as he stepped out of the pizza store. Immediately noticing you, you watched his eyes flit between you and then the bodyguard’s formidable stature throwing a long shadow from the street. There was a 50/50 chance he would bolt, not that you would be shocked either way, but then he seemed to weigh his options and took off his backpack. Good. This would be over soon and you could go home.

Wait for Jennie to return safely home.

The dealer strode up to the beat of his shoes splashing dirty rain water. A hand fished through the depths of his backpack, probably discovering a hidden compartment he fashioned himself to retrieve the money. You kept your eyes on him, part of maintaining the role. All you had to do was trust that Craig could keep it cool in public eye so you could finish the transaction, drop it off back at the warehouse, and be on your way. On the outside, that appeared most notably as mildly disinterested.

After a moment, the dealer withdrew his hand. A fat stack of cash passed into your hands, and you were thankful that it wasn’t a gun drawn on you (it’s happened before). You thumbed the stack, flipping through quickly to make sure there weren’t any false bills filling the inside or notes smaller than you expected. It seemed to be in order, and even if the warehouse proved it wasn’t, the mafia knew exactly how to treat a cheater.

“Next pick up is on the 27th,” you stated evenly. The dealer nodded, grimacing a bit like he was uncomfortable and rather be anywhere else. You gestured with the stack of cash, indicating he could leave. The way back lead to a dead end of trash, so the only way out was pass you and the bodyguard, out onto the street. Perhaps his real fear resided with the fact that he would have walk by the bodyguard. Bodyguards were scary, if you thought about it.

As soon as he couldn’t see your face, you let the mask slip a little. The pick-ups were getting bigger, more frequent as the mafia’s influence spread like a virus. That meant the penalty was more severe as well. If you were caught with this much money in your possession —

A strange scream wailed from the background, bright lights illuminating the alleyway. Air didn’t even reach your lungs as you choked on a gasp, spinning around in time to see a police squad car shuddering to a stop under a streetlight.

Your bodyguard whipped around in your direction. The shove to the drug dealer had him sprawling to the wet ground with a terrified yelp as the bodyguard sprinted towards you, seizing you by the arm and practically dragging you.

“Stop! We don’t want to shoot you!”

Something like panic filled your chest as you reached the barbwire fence separating the pair of you from the other side of the alley. Your only way out.

“Climb, now!” your bodyguard commanded, pushing you toward the trash that you began to scramble up toward the fence. Cold links bit into your hands as you attempted to scale the obstacle. How you were going to deal with the barbwire, you weren’t sure yet, but then you heard it.

“Last chance!” a female voice hollered. “Give up or we’ll open fire!”

You’ve never heard that tone of voice before. Probably because you had never been in the situation to witness it. And that’s why it took you so long to recognize the voice. When you did, it could only be her.

“Wait, stop!” you screamed.

Loose asphalt sank deep into the flesh of your knees and palms as you fell back down the trash.

Above you, a gun revealed itself from the folds of the bodyguard’s suit.

“Don’t shoot!” you screamed louder, even as it felt as you were about to pass out from lack of oxygen.

Someone was crying. You blinked and made out the fetal position of the drug dealer, crying against the wall.

All it took was a couple swift seconds.

One.

You couldn’t hear yourself screaming anymore.

Two.

You saw her. Jennie. Dark hair fixed into a bun made her features sharper in the headlights. It also highlighted the fraction of a moment it took for her expression to shift from anger to stunned.

Three.

Your bodyguard fired a single shot.

Unfortunately, it was too late.

The ground jarred against your back. A bone deep pain rooted itself in your chest. The most surprising aspect of being shot was that you could still breathe.

The couple seconds that passed after that went pretty slowly.

For some reason, you couldn’t get up. It felt like the bullet had sapped you of all your strength the moment it ripped into you. All you could manage was lifting your head to look down at your body.

Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea — tears sprung to your eyes for the second time that week. Yeah, it fucking hurt, this hole in the middle of your chest. But what really had you crying was knowing you were going to die. Red leaked down your sternum, pooling on your stomach. Underneath you, you could imagine was a similar looking puddle. There was so much already. Didn’t it just happen?

“Y/N? Listen to me — you’re going to be okay!”

The only person that could bring you comfort in this cold, dark world. Jennie. Your vision swam, blurring the lines of her face as she kneeled over you. What was she thinking right now? Did she hate you? Did she want you to die after all?

“Baby? Can you hear me? They’re coming, okay! They’re coming! Stay with me, please!”

Maybe not. That was good. The last thing you wanted to think about while you still could was that the woman you loved hated you. You hated you. If you had never gotten mixed up in all this shit, you wouldn’t be bleeding out onto the ground for Jennie to see.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled. You could still breathe, shockingly, but it wasn’t filling you like before. The next inhale was shorter. Of their own accord, your eyes slid to the sky. Damn the city. You couldn’t see the stars.

“Don’t you fucking apologize to me.” A hand took you by the chin, the shake to your head seeming to settle things back into place temporarily. Jennie glared down at you but the effect was lost in the tears that danced on her eyelashes. “You’re not leaving me. We’re going to figure this out. Because you’re going to live.”

“Please don’t be mad.” God, was that your voice? It sounded so small. What were you talking about?

Please don’t be mad when I leave you all alone.

“You’re not going to die, you hear me?” Whoa, that was a tremble. Still, Jennie was firm. Stoic, even if her voice betrayed her. “You’re not going to die because I won’t let you. I love you, okay? I love you.”

This time when the sky disappeared as you closed your eyes, it was with a smile.

#blackpink #blackpink fanfiction #blackpink scenarios #girl group scenarios #kpop scenarios #scenarios #WOW WHY CANT I STOP WRITING ABOUT BEING SHOT LMAO #i hope you all enjoy the request !!! 💖

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danielcoetzee-wtf · 2 years

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A Pandemic of Fucking Fear

Here is my observation and opinion on the Covid-19 Flu (for what it’s worth)

We were all horrified with the initial news of this deadly worldwide virus. Fear of note was planted and germinated over the entire planet. For weeks on end, all we heard was how the numbers of infected were soaring and that we were all basically screwed. Chances of survival after contracting the virus was touch-and-go for most and the end-of-the-road for the medically challenged.

The media gorged themselves and spread more fear and anxiety with photos and videos of the dying, the overflowing hospitals, the sleep-deprived medical staff, the body bags laid out in rows. The horror, the horror. The more people watched, the greater the panic became. Mandatory lockdowns, prisoners. Mandatory masks, isolation. Mandatory business closures, bankruptcy. Everybody dancing to the tune of the Pied Piper.

Rules were enforced, often mercilessly on those who tried to maintain some form of normality. The rats were played a false tune and yet they danced. A hastily, whipped up vaccine would stop the virus in its tracks. La-la-la-la-la.

That was 2020. Now it’s 2022. And the dance continues.

Millions have willingly surrendered and smilingly accepted the concocted bullshit. Some continue to think that the poison they’ve been given is the best thing since sliced bread. Dance, dance, dance. Roll up your sleeves once, twice ... but wait, there’s more! Yet, despite having received their “miraculous” potion, the virus is still contracted and still spreads.

While the masses are under the spell of the Pied Piper, bewitched by the mesmerising tune, the world crumbles, the rats drown. No jobs, foreclosures, bad debt, homelessness, hunger. A crippled and fucked up economy. Completely duped, the countless rats still follow the tune of fear. And they dance.

#pandemicoffuckingfear

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anthonybialy · 3 years

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Fallibly Failing

The cure will kill you, but at least you won't feel sick anymore. Pass on a fallible government. Unfailing oafs tried to act like this wave of global disease offered proof of omniscience. Presenting itself as the ultimate authority on what disaster is happening and the merciful source of how to fix it worked great except for how it turned out. Extinguishing your house fire with napalm is effective in its way. A caring Congress would pass the Unburned Dwelling Act which makes flames illegal.

Please don't take note of how governors who were most heavily involved had the worst performances, as they're trying to maintain facades. Countless victims waiting for an apology from jobless Andrew Cuomo may as well expect Hannibal Lecter to show remorse. New York's savior inflicted a way worse death toll with infinitely less charm.

The all-time serial killer's enchanted enablers are the ones who should apologize for the rest of their days on behalf of their hero taking so many. An obvious putzing psychopath was portrayed as if the Almighty had sent a messiah to battle a satanic virus. It doesn't take theologists to guess which supernatural figure on behalf he toiled. Writing his own bible is a troubling clue.

Those who helped the Devil's human representative should truly apologize to those no longer here. The quantity is unfathomable thanks to his appallingly horrific decision to pack nursing homes with the sick, which aliens experimenting on us would've admired. Forcing restaurant patrons to dine outside in inside tents somehow didn't cancel out a rather bleak Grandparents Day.

Your leaders are fantastic at spending. It's just they don't buy anything good with it. The fault is yours, of course, as you selfishly refuse to fork over more of your precious dollars to let people who can't fix roads repair society. The first couple trillions were insufficient.

An astounding government they've decided should be involved in managing every life aspect doesn't have enough to do anything with present budgeting. But how can they do what they're not supposed to unless they have more funds to which they're not entitled?

Liberty junkies possess the temerity to suggest those in charge could be incorrect. It should be illegal to point out the lawmaking contraption screwed up anything. Those in charge are undisputed despite how they're dumb and awful. Attention whore Anthony Fauci is merely the most prominent recent example of a village idiot speaking against science itself. Changing what the last word is first thing every morning sure seems research-based.

Government's phoniest doctor since Jill Biden is aided by an ever-helpful media who presumes anyone in such an official capacity must be the best. Billing him as America's top scientist is an insult to a nation built precisely on not being bossed around. Anyone who's the best at something wouldn't be toiling for a federal agency.

Worshiping a Washington vulture leads to presuming an unaccountable dweeb who takes your money and decisions without understanding your needs is skilled at delivering insurance or education.

Those in charge must be the best at running things, so they should run everything. Look at how few corpses they produced with emergency diktats, just like there's barely any debt for all that neat stuff they bought for us. If emergency protective measures continue into a second year, it's either not an emergency or they don't protect.

The classless ruling class actually enjoyed bossing around everyone suffering together while apart. The hardest symptom to contain is joy. Those whose solutions to every life problem involves telling others what to do suddenly became epidemiology experts.

Life's guardians paired their new science knowledge with their natural propensity for bossiness to stop everything about the virus but its spread and symptoms. Mutations that require endless breathing concealing are a convenient excuse to impose order. One can't just get vaccinated as a wise call, as panic continues to be the primary symptom.

The breathing death using it as an opportunity to communalize. A pandemic just happened to be a swell excuse. One aching to hear the cries of humanity from within the prison walls after a year in the hole can faintly hear “We're all in this together” as the creepy mantra presented by dead-eyed cultists who won't leave you alone. The urge to treat individuals as nothing more than horde members may inspire voluntary seclusion. Misanthropes discovered themselves this past year.

If you think everyone's as awful as they are dumb, you're bound to decide how to fix their pathetic tendencies. Our newly communal world can't let humans have the sense to seclude themselves while they're sick. We've lost an unimaginable amount of productivity and chances to offer what we have for what we could use, which you might call the economy. There's not a switch that allows conglomerates to profit off orphan sweat. If there were, Democratic governors would've flipped it.

Every ghastly projected outcome came true. Of course, it was with every safety measure in place. But impositions didn't go far enough, you see. Those sneaking unfiltered breaths murdered the compliant by the truckload. This is like government ruining the economy only because it didn't drain enough capital from it. As always, the biggest screwups imaginable just didn't have enough power.

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avegetariancannibal · 7 years

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“Zombie, Come!” (FINAL CHAPTER )

(previous chapters)

Sunday, 7:44 AM

Hannibal stepped forward to address Sands. Will reached out instinctively to grab his hand and hold him back. "I presume you have infected patients," Hannibal said, "and I presume them to be wealthy or high-ranking individuals if both private and government resources have been combined."

Will saw a small flicker of indecision cross Sands's face as he tried to decide how much information he could divulge.

"There are patients aboard," he finally said. "It's imperative they be treated, and successfully."

"I will examine them, here," Hannibal said, "on the condition that you let him go."

It took Will a second to fully grasp what Hannibal had proposed. Panic and anger flared simultaneously. "That's--that's unacceptable!" He lowered his voice. "If you get on that helicopter, they'll never let you off again."

Hannibal leaned in close to kiss him---first on the lips, then on his cheek just above the wound. "They won't have a choice," he whispered.

Suddenly, he grabbed Will roughly by the waist, grinding their hips together. At first, Will was a little taken by surprise. Was now really the time for frottage? Then he felt it: the hard, curved shape of a blade tucked into Hannibal's front pocket.

Sands grabbed Hannibal by the shoulder and gave him a hard shove over toward the MEDEVAC unit. Will waited for him to look back as he boarded, but he didn't. The copilot shadowed him in.

"Are you going to let me go or not?" Will asked.

"Leaning towards not," Sands said.

A minute or two later, he saw Hannibal glance at him through one of the helicopter's small windows. Will read his expression as telling him to stall for time.

Sands unwittingly gave him an entree: "How'd he do it, huh? Gene therapy? Designer virus? Stem cells?"

"What, cure me?" Will asked. He laughed. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Sands sneered. "You're screwed either way, so you might as well."

"You're the one who's screwed if you want what he gave me," Will said. "You see, he fucked me in the ass raw. Technically it was more of an inoculation than a cure. But basically, his spunk saved me. Although, now that I have the antibodies, I could probably fuck you in the ass if Dr. Lecter's not your type."

Sands's sneer faltered into something between horror and disbelief.

Will pressed on. "He's better at it, though, if I'm being honest with you. More practice, I imagine. I mean, before a few days ago, I hadn't had sex in over five years. Do you know why he has the antibodies?"

“We assumed Sutcliffe dosed him," Sands said, "as part of his experiments."

"You assumed incorrectly," Will said. "You see, what Hannibal is---aside from a surgeon, an imaginative lover, and a pretentious interior decorator---is a cannibal. He eats people, just like those zombies do. Well, with a more stylish flair, but you get the idea."

Sands snorted with laughter. "That's--that's ridic---"

Will cut him off. "He's going to eat you, too, Mr. Sands. Your liver, your lungs...all the tastiest bits of you. And I'm going to help him."

Sands sneered at him again, and rolled his eyes. Will couldn't blame him, really. It would sound like fiction to anyone who didn't know better. It would sound like lies to anyone who had a modicum of sense. Whatever dark parties Sands had allied himself with, he seemed like a pretty sensible guy.

A scream came from inside the MEDEVAC helicopter, and it wasn't Hannibal’s. Sands drew his gun, but it was too late. Whatever Hannibal's plan, it had already been set into motion.

"Don't you fucking move!" Sands barked over his shoulder as he ran for the helicopter.

Will held up his hands in mock obedience and gave Sands his best look of innocence.

Just as Sands reached the helicopter, the copilot came tumbling out, pouring blood from a gash in his abdomen. Sands, rather than catching him, dodged and let him fall to the ground even as he begged for help. The pilot, still inside the cockpit, tried to get to his feet, but a woman in a hospital gown leapt from the cabin and latched onto him. It all happened in a blur, but Will saw the black veins on her arms and the inky ooze pouring from her mouth as she bit into the pilot's face.

Sands shot at her, but the bullets did nothing to slow her down. Black blood seeped through her gown as she feasted on the pilot.

The wide-eyed pilot on the smaller helicopter was perhaps even more sensible than Sands, and got the engine started.

A few moments later, five more infected patients spilled out from the MEDEVAC helicopter. Sands dodged them, too, even as he loaded a fresh clip into his gun. Two of them crawled into the smaller helicopter before it could get off the ground. The pilot shot at them, but they overwhelmed him in no time at all. Will could hear his gurgling screams over the stealthy whir of the helicopter's blades.

Still more zombies came. Will thought he recognized the Speaker of the House and a media mogul among them. There may have been a movie star, but Will couldn't be sure with half her face missing.

Will dropped to his knees and rolled behind a large rock on the patio. There was still no sign of Hannibal. What if... what if he'd sacrificed himself freeing the zombies so Will could make his escape? What if...

Finally Hannibal emerged in the helicopter's open doorway. He stood, framed like the most perfect image of a Renaissance demon, triumphant. Red blood dripped from his mouth, glinted off his teeth. He was breathing hard from some unseen struggle, and his eyes shone with murderous intent. Will thought he might've never seen anything so gorgeous in all his life. He wanted to take Hannibal on the spot.

Then goddamn John Sands had to pop up and remind him they were still in the middle of being in danger.

"Don't you fucking move!" Sands screamed, aiming to shoot at Hannibal.

Will rocketed to his feet, not even knowing how he could save Hannibal but knowing he had to try, but all Sands had managed to do was draw the zombies' attention. The one who might've been an actress jumped him from behind, shrieking like an animal. As she tore the collar of his uniform aside, she revealed an infinity symbol tattooed on his neck. Then it disappeared beneath her gnashing teeth.

Hannibal ran over to Will, gathering him into his arms for an embrace that nearly knocked the breath out of him.

Will held Hannibal's face in his hands. "Are you all right?"

"I bit the medic, then sliced through the patients' restraints," Hannibal said. "I think I may have been bitten myself in the process, but I'll be fine."

Will mashed a graceless kiss against Hannibal's mouth. Then he added another, and another.

"We're fucked, you know," he said. "We can't outrun them for long. We can't take the car. We're going to die here."

Hannibal guided him to the edge of the bluff, glancing back to assure himself of their position.

"Do you trust me, Will?"

Will thought back to the night they'd stopped for fuel, while his fever raged and the dogs slept in the back of the car. He thought of what Hannibal had said to him.

"Did you mean it?" Will asked. "You said you'd always do your best for me."

"For both of us," Hannibal said.

Will glanced over Hannibal's shoulder. The zombies had eaten their fill of Sands and the Army pilots, and had turned their attention to the fresh meat poised near the bluff. First one of them broke into a jagged, limping run, then the rest followed...

"Yes," Will said, "I trust you."

He lay his head on Hannibal's shoulder, and felt Hannibal's cheek come to rest on the top of his head. With the slightest pivot of their feet, they pushed away from the ground, holding on to each other one last time, and fell towards the Atlantic Ocean.

Together.

- the end -

(except for the epilogue to come)

#zombie fic #hannigram #hannigram fic #long post

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davewakeman · 4 years

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Talking Tickets 20 March 2020--What A Week?

Hey!

Where do we even start this week?

That was something, wasn’t it?

How are all of y’all holding up? You can always email me, call, or text me. I’m here. My cell is +1 917 705 6301. I also WhatsApp! Don’t feel like you are working through this complex time alone…we are all in this together.

I’ll probably spend more time here than I will with the stories this week, but I think that’s okay. Writing a newsletter about the business of entertainment and tickets in the week that the whole business shuts down isn’t a lot of fun. But I’m grateful for every one of you that allows me to come and visit with you each Friday.

Someone shared a tweet with me earlier in the week, mentioning that this is likely to be a defining moment in the way that your kids remember you. I posted a thread on the Twitter about this.

But to restate a few ideas here this morning:

1. It is tough for all of us right now. But don’t go through it alone. You have friends and colleagues, people need people. And, I know the tough part of this virus thing is the social distancing thing…but that’s important too. But if you need someone, call, text, email, but don’t go it alone.

2. As tough as things are right now and as dark as it seems, try to focus on the things you can control and the things that you can find positive out of this experience. It is tough to do, but take a moment to catch your breath and give yourself room to think. I’ve only ever screwed things up when I’ve run too quickly into the next thing out of panic. In the next week or so as I figure out what the timeline of this pandemic looks like and when we might possibly start to see economic activity come, I’ll start putting together some webinars, chats, and other ways that we can lean on each other to figure out what comes next.

3. Find something to distract yourself from all of the news. The constant barrage of cable news, Twitter, and other media will drive you nuts. I’m fortunate that we have a nice backyard and live on a street where there is basically not many folks around, so the boy and I have been doing soccer drills. I’ve also picked up my favorite book of all time, Underworld, again. Also, here are a couple of concert bootlegs for you to remind you how awesome live music is:

The National at the Sydney Opera House Pearl Jam at Fenway Park in 2018 Wilco’s 25th Anniversary Concert

You pick your own, but just find something to take you out of your own head for a moment.

BTW, I put together a Slack Channel for folks in tickets, sports, entertainment, and such to connect, chat, and just have a place for a little bit of community. Go in there, find the area that best fits you and connect.

I’m doing a little sports business happy hour Google Hangout today with my friend, Ken Troupe, at 430 PM EST. I did a happy hour for St Patrick’s Day at the last minute to test the format, it works and it is likely a good way to break the monotony of the day.

————————————————————————————————————

1. What comes next?

I really liked the above LinkedIn post because I had been struggling with what to say to my friends, colleagues, and clients.

I’m certain all of us have struggled with our thoughts, feelings, and direction this week.

But Alan’s post really helped me to clarify my thinking.

What is next?

I’m not 100% sure. People keep telling me, “live is going to roar back.”

But I’m not so sure. Someone pointed out to me that many markets never recovered after the 2008 financial crisis.

Live Nation lost 2/3 of its market value in a month. And, a lot of companies are having a hard time right now…okay, all companies.

Michael Billington writes up a really good reminder of the power of the arts to help us make sense of the world we live in that I want to hold close to me and my thinking as we move forward over the next few weeks and months.

As often happens, I’ve turned to re-reading Peter Drucker. I’m working back through, Managing In A Time Of Great Change.

What I love about Drucker is how he focuses on taking action in the present to create the future.

We are discussing the book in the Slack channel, but I’m curious to hear from all of y’all about where your heads are and what you are thinking about right now.

Another resource I came across, TicketManager put together a guide for their clients in troubled times that might be useful to some of y’all.

2. The entertainment business comes together:

Around the industry, people are coming together to try and support their partners and the live entertainment industry.

QCue starts a collaboration initiative; Stay22 drops commissions; and, Spektrix offers a tool to convert refunds to donations.

INTIX has started a COVID 19 forum and more organizations are doing things.

Goldstar is turning on all of its promotional activities to help its partners.

If you or someone is doing something to support the industry, let me know and I will share it in Slack, in the newsletter, and on social media.

3. In the short term, leagues, teams, and owners are trying to do right by hourly and part-time workers:

Marc Cuban led the way with his comments right after the NBA suspended the season. But we’ve seen a lot of teams, owners, players, and others jump in to support the season and part-time workers that make the gameday experience go for so many.

MLB commits $30M to ballpark employees and pays minor league players until April 8.

4. The NBA was better prepared than the federal government:

This story is wild! Especially when you combine it with all the great reporting coming out on Thursday about the Senate ignoring warnings but telling their donors and selling stocks to protect themselves while poo-pooing the danger to the American people. And, as I was finishing this, here’s a thread with links to all of the Congress critters sales of stocks after the January meeting where the issues at play with the virus were laid out.

I mean, I’ve been one of the most widely read project management writers in the world for about 8 years now and I know that one of the biggest things you can do is have a risk plan in place. So to see the NBA’s risk plan is amazing.

I do think we all need to think about putting risk plans in place for the future.

5. There are a few bright spots:

South Korea’s basketball league is making the first moves towards restarting.

Marble racing is totally a thing!

The CoronaChoir made the news. I’m a fan of alliterations.

Chelsea offers up Stamford Bridge for NHS use and Ronaldo offers up his hotels and pays medical staff.

And, if you don’t mind the time difference, you can get your fix of AFL and NRL games. (Go Dees!)

I’m excited to watch some footie, but just the site of all these examples of folks contributing, moving forward, or innovating…it helps let us know that things will get better.

I hope I’ve struck as much balance as possible this week. It wasn’t easy to write this one.

—————————————————————————————————————-

What am I up to this week?

I’m taking care of the boy and supporting my lady as we try to figure out how to deal with social distancing and the measures that are being put in place to help slow the progress of the coronavirus.

I will get back to writing and podcasting next week. Let me know if you have any guests or topics you want to learn about. Keep an eye on DaveWakeman.com and I’ll keep adding stuff there as I can as well.

Please follow and like us:

Talking Tickets 20 March 2020–What A Week? was originally published on Wakeman Consulting Group

#tickets

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cksmart-world · 4 years

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The completely unnecessary news analysis

by Christopher Smart

March 10, 2020

WHY ELIZABETH WARREN LOST

Everyone knows by now our system doesn't necessarily select the most qualified candidate: Exhibit #1 — Donald Trump. So, our political analysts here at Smart Bomb did some numbers and crunched some exit polling snacks after Elizabeth Warren pulled out: Among the things they found was that Warren's sweaters cost her big among among young male voters who said she reminded them of granny. This group said they weren't against a woman president but wanted someone who looked more like Melania. Our analysts also noted that Warren's strongest support came from men and women with Ph.D.s in economics and astrophysics. They liked that Warren had a plan for everything from maternity leave to nuclear submarines. Unfortunately, this group is smaller than the American Bowling Association. Another weak spot for the senator was middle-aged plumbers, who wanted a strong male who would go off half-cocked when provoked. Although Warren outlined a progressive agenda, a large number of men and women in their late 20s and early 30s favored Bernie Sanders because he was grouchier and yelled louder. But in the end, it was suburban housewives who abandoned Warren because she was weak on shoulder rubs and hair touching. They're voting for Biden.

WILBUR ROSS: VIRUS WILL BOOST JOBS

Commerce Secretary Wilbur Ross says the Coronavirus pandemic is yet another opportunity to put America First and make some quick bucks. “The fact is, it does give business yet another thing to consider when they go through their review of their supply chain,” Ross said on Fox News For Real Americans. “So I think it will help to accelerate the return of jobs to North America.” (We are not making this up.) The Coronavirus, is still quite mysterious. If and when it goes away, it may not really go away, according to some epidemiologists. Like influenza (flu), it could come back every fall. Already, entrepreneurial televangelist Jim Bakker is hawking a snake oil cure called the “Silver Solution,” developed by naturopathic doctor Sherri Sellman. It could (or could not) kill the virus in 12 hours. And in Australia, the Darwin-based NT News is doing its part to make up for the panic run on toilet paper by printing extra pages. “Run out of loo paper? The NT News cares,” the front page reads. “That’s why we’ve printed an eight-page special lift-out inside, complete with handy cut lines, for you to use in an emergency.” It's too early to tell whether the virus will benefit free trade. Maybe Trump could slap a tariff on the virus, because if we're gonna die, we should at least make a buck off it.

BLACK WATER KEEPS ON ROLLIN'

Remember that Erik Prince dude, who founded the mercenary outfit Black Water that killed civilians in Iraq. Well that dude — who happens to be Education Secretary Nancy DeVos' brother — never went away. Nope, he just changed the name of his private security firm to Academi, because this Dark Prince didn't want to miss out on the big bucks from the DOD. And after all, who is the Army going to send on illegal black-ops, while retaining deniability. (Dead civilians? We didn't kill no dead civilians.) Well, good ol' Erik has now branched out and hired former British and American spies to infiltrate Democratic congressional campaigns and groups that happen to be on Donald Trump's shit list. These undercover ops are in concert with Project Veritas, the right-wing cabal set up to embarrass mainstream media, Democrats and liberals. Typically, Project Veritas sets up undercover "stings" using false cover stories and covert video in an effort to expose “media bias.” (No surprise, Fox News and Rush Limbaugh aren't on their hit list.) Of course, Trump knows nothing about it. In fact, he barley knows who Erik Prince is. He might have met him once, but, you know, he meets so many people.

IN & OUT AT BYU

LGBT students at Brigham Young University don't know if they're coming or going. Last month, in something of Richter 7 earthquake, the Mormon school updated its “Honor Code” to allow “homosexual behavior.” Like a parting of the waters, LGBT BYU students celebrated: “Free at last, free at last, thank God Almighty, we're free at last.” But then a strange storm swirled in and it rained frogs: The Tower of Power announced the revision did not mean “homosexual behavior” was copasetic, after all. According to BYU officials there was a miscommunication. “Even though we have removed the more prescriptive language, the principles of the Honor Code remain the same.” Well, that clears things up. It's kinda like a bad April Fools prank — just kidding, kids, back in the closet. But then, there was this from the LDS Church-owned Deseret News: “For the first time, BYU will allow same-sex partners to compete in a national dance competition the university is hosting this spring.” Confused? You're not alone. It couldn't be that BYU bigwigs pulled the old Itchy-Switchy on the International Dance Council in order to qualify for the big event, could it? Nah, they would never do something so cynical — would they?

Post Script — Well, holy shit, as they say on Wall Street. Whatever you do, don't look at your IRA or 401-K, you could lose all hope and start thinking your retirement will be spent in a sleeping bag under the viaduct. But as we learned from the Great Recession of 2008, just wait 10 years and things will get back to where they were. OK, almost where they were, unless you're rich, then you'll make a killing. Word from the White House is that things are going very, very,very, well. That means we're going to hell on The Princess of the Seas. The more “verys” Trump uses equates to exactly the opposite — as in, very, very, very, screwed up. Just be glad you're not on a cruise ship or in jail — there's not a lot of difference when it comes to Coronavirus, although inmates don't have balconies. Of course there is some good news: now Trump and leading Republicans admit that Coronavirus is a real thing. Since the outbreak in China last month, it's been a hoax perpetrated by Democrats and Fake News. This is what happens when one of the talking points of the political right go south. They just don't talk about it, like it never existed. Of course, global warming is still a hoax. But someday when the Atlantic laps up on Mar-a-Lago, it will be like Trump and Hannity had warned us all along that Democrats were creating a crisis. But as George W. Bush once said after winning the South Carolina primary thanks to a rumor spread by his campaign that John McCain had fathered a child with a black woman, “It's just politics, John.”

Well, Wilson, with the apocalypse looming and Trump at the helm, what have you and the band got to ready us for the coming shit storm:

I saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around it / I saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it / I saw a black branch with blood that kept drippin' / I saw a room full of men with their hammers a-bleedin' / I saw a white ladder all covered with water / I saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken / I saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children / And it's a hard, it's a hard / It's a hard, and it's a hard / It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall...

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just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms · 7 years

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I Feel You

This is a personal post, and I’ll be honest I’m super nervous about posting it.

This is not me wanting sympathy, this is me offering support.

I’ve met a lot of people through this site, and I’ve come to find a lot of people that I think go through very similar things to me on a daily basis.

To all my followers with chronic illnesses, I get it. I know what it’s like to have an invisible illness, and I want you to know that I’m always here if you want to vent and/or talk about it.

You are strong even though you feel weak.

You are not dysfunctional or broken even though you feel like you’re barely functioning.

Most importantly, you aren’t alone.

My personal daily battles: chronic migraines, chronic headaches, orthostatic intolerance, chronic fatigue syndrome, irritable bowel syndrome, anxiety, and lasting effects of an autonomic nervous system and GI system virus’s.

Whether you have multiple battles, or one, your battle is real and it is legitimate.

Feel free to read this thing I wrote. Sometimes you just need to let it all out. I’m sure there’s a lot of things I mention that some of you can identify with.

Most importantly, know that I’m always here for you.

You wake up, and you’re already tired. Your body aches, your head spins, and after just sitting up you’re ready to head back to bed. Not because you’re mentally tired, because your brain is already screaming at you not to move today.

Walking to the kitchen to grab a snack and some water you let the shower run, not too hot though, and wait to feel steady.

Finally feeling like your sugar won’t drop or your blood pressure won’t tank you step into the shower. Careful to not lock your knees or bend too much. Squatting makes sure you don’t collapse and hit your head again.

Stepping out you’re careful as you towel off making sure not to bend too much or over exert yourself trying to dry off and dry your hair.

Time to sit on the bed and give your body a rest as you figure out your clothes and a hair style for the day. Adding some compression stockings is a must since it’s going to be a full day of classes.

Packing your lunch, you make sure that there is enough for a little snack every two or three hours, can’t let your blood sugar drop or electrolytes get imbalanced. Don’t want a migraine, fainting spell, or a migraine from a fainting spell. Have to be careful though, if something doesn’t sound good you shouldn’t pack it. Flaring up your irritable bowel will only mean cramping that doubles you over and an hour in the bathroom.

By the time you’ve grabbed everything and gotten into the car, you are officially fatigued. You feel like you have a flu and got hit by a truck. The pounding starts to rise in your head, the vice starts to tighten around it. Taking deep breaths, you try to slow your heart rate, if it gets too high or you let the pain take over you’ll start to have a panic attack and then you’ll really be screwed.

The drive is nice, you are able to let your body relax and the radio keeps you distracted enough that your anxiety can just jibber jabber in the background.

After parking, the 3 block walk has your heart rate in the 150’s to 160’s even though you were walking slow. Collapsing into a chair in the classroom you feel the tingles in your face as the blood drains and your blood pressure starts to drop. You feel that tightness in your chest and panic set in as you feel yourself about to faint.

Your limbs go limp and you take deep slow breaths, pleading with your body to keep you conscious. Classmates walk in and you smile, not wanting them to see you panic and praying they aren’t noticing the sweat on your brow. The vice and jack hammering start in your head, radiating as your brain feels like it’s going to swell out of your skull.

Deep breath in, hold it, and slowly let it out. You do this again and again until you feel your heart rate finally start to slow and the anxiety moves to the background. You wiggle your feet, swinging your legs, doing what you can to keep the blood circulating during the class.

The rest of the day, every time you stand you brace yourself on the table, giving yourself a moment to adjust before packing up your things. You laugh and joke with friends, desperately trying to ignore the total and complete fatigue that hits you like a truck every time you sit down and get up again.

Crap, you forgot to eat. The over production of acid in your stomach starts to rear its angry head and your stomach feels like it’s eating itself while the burn of acid makes it feel like there’s a blow torch in your chest. The jitters start to set in and you grab a granola bar, wolfing it down and hoping you aren’t too late.

Water is downed at every possible moment. Careful though, drinking too fast and not eating frequently isn’t good either, can’t overload your system with water. Keeping a small Gatorade in your bag is a must, especially on days where you’ll be in a hot room or it’s hot outside.

Finally getting home at the end of the day you literally collapse into bed. Your head is pounding, your heart is racing, and you can feel your body literally straining to keep your blood pressure up.

The next hour or so is spent lying flat on your back in bed with all your pillows under your legs. You use this time to relax a bit, check social media, give yourself a mental break before starting studying. Of course the anxiety is having none of this though.

Why aren’t you studying? You know putting this off isn’t doing yourself any good.

Just suck it up and move on. You’re being over dramatic. People have done more with worse in their life.

Stop being weak, just get up and do what you have to.

You can’t though. You physically can’t do more. Literally thinking and studying alone takes as much energy as going on a three mile walk.

You try yoga, deep breathing, drinking more water. Every time you go to the doctor you hope the tests come back as negative but they don’t.

The virus that attacked your autonomic nervous system did permanent damage. Your body clinically can’t handle being vertical for too long and your orthostatic intolerance and chronic fatigue are most likely here to stay.

Your irritable bowel is going to be a lasting side effect of the GI virus you got. The stomach acid that spilled into your intestines when the virus attacked the nerves, opening the lower sphincter, left permanent scaring. You’ll always have to take multivitamins and supplements and pray you won’t get anemic again because those iron transfusions were horrible.

Multiple types of chronic migraines and headaches, those are here to stay too. Why not add a few more to the party right?

All you want to do is get up, go about your normal day, be active, and remember what it feels like not to feel sick and tired literally all the time.

What’s it like to go for a walk around the block and still be able to be standing and doing things around the house?

What’s it like to not start to have a panic attack when something starts to feel off and you worry it might be the start of an all too familiar domino effect your body is fond of?

What’s it like to actually enjoy your day and not worry about how fatigued it will make you tomorrow?

What’s it like to not have a story or tip that goes with most specialties when you’re in nursing school because you’ve had to live it?

What’s it like to not have a chronic illness? Or five?

#personal post #about me #chronic illness life #spoonie struggle

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immedtech · 7 years

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The hot new cyberattack that's sweeping the nation

On Tuesday a powerful and terrifying new cyberattackworm emerged in Ukraine, quickly spreading to the Russian federation and other countries no one cared enough to report on because they weren't the US.

It was hard to tell which infection was worse: The cyberattack itself, or the race to write and publish something (anything!) about it, framing it just like the last "massive" cyberattack explosion to hit the whole world.

The cyber-news virus hit American media quickly, locking up common sense like an unpatched Windows machine with a "hack me" sign on it. It got root on domestic infosec twitter and quickly spread into the headlines of The New York Times, who rushed out a piece incorrectly naming the (actual) cyberattack as ransomware.

Once the Times wrote about it, the cyber-news infection exploded to lock up headlines through the week -- impacting more people through hysteria than the actual cyberattack was affecting organizations and people in the real world. Airports, shipping companies, banks, FedEx and even Cadbury Chocolate were affected, but infosec twitter was the hardest hit.

The 4 stages of Twitter during a malware outbreak. 1. OMG WE'RE ALL SCREWED IT'S SO BAD 2. It sucks 3. Should have patched 4. It was Russia

— Sev (@sudosev) June 29, 2017

The virus is real, but the reporting has been so competitive and the limelight-chasing so fast and furious that the end result is disorganized, hysterical, and overwhelming.

In reality, it looks like there was a cyberattack on a country by another country, which of course couldn't be contained, so now it's in every country. This week's cyber flavor of the month was deployed to harm Ukraine on the same day a Ukrainian military officer was assassinated by a car bomb. He just happened to be the man who was investigating and gathering evidence for The Hague of Russia's military aggression for Ukraine's case against Russia in the International Court of Justice.

And harm Ukraine it did. In just a few hours, key parts of the country's government, infrastructure, top energy companies, private and state banks, main airport, Kyiv's metro system, and even companies that do business with these entities were affected. If anyone was trying to imagine a way to "cyber bomb" a country, then the effect of this wiper would be as close as it gets.

Some of our gov agencies, private firms were hit by a virus. No need to panic, we're putting utmost efforts to tackle the issue 👌 pic.twitter.com/RsDnwZD5Oj

— Ukraine / Україна (@Ukraine) June 27, 2017

The attack was made to look like ransomware, probably because that word is like Patient Zero for headline panics right now. In reality it was created to be a wiper -- something that just locks up files forever and ever. This means it reveals itself after locking up all your files and demands a ransom to de-encrypt them -- except that part's a lie. The creators had no intention of getting any money; its intent was to destroy.

I'm guessing that real ransomware criminals, who care about customer service, are gonna be pissed about the reputational harm to their pay-and-get-your-files-back scheme.

Relevant bits of the wiper were also seen in the ransomware that was so last month: WannaCry. That's because the code to create this monster of the week was rehashed from an exploit released into the wild by Shadow Brokers, widely believed to be a Russian state entity, in one of their dumps of NSA tools.

Couldn't decrypt their common sense

The cyberattack is still spreading and wreaking real havoc just as fast as its headlines are. (Engadget's editors are patched and up to date, I swear!) The wiper's effect on infosec companies seems to be a viral desperation to be part of the story -- so acute that the damn thing has several names, because squatter's rights rule in the race for attention, I guess. You may have heard of it as Petya, or Not Petya, ExPetyr, or GoldenEye, or even Nyetya.

But if you're like most people, you're just wondering if it is going to affect you, and if you need to do anything.

Bad Malware pickup lines: Hey girl, is your name Petya or GoldenEye? Either way you've already fully encrypted my heart ;)

— Malware Unicorn (@malwareunicorn) June 29, 2017

Petya/Not Petya (or whatever) will affect you if it starts hitting services you use or need, and even then there's not much you can do about it. In any case, the usual virus advice applies: Patch and update (Windows especially, as usual), and otherwise make some backups that you store offline.

After that, it's just a matter of getting your sanity back after drowning in a week of crazed and confused headlines about a new hacking danger, after several years of breach overwhelm and a hack attack every damn week of the year.

Don't get me wrong. It's fun to watch cybersecurity journalism freak out about something new they don't understand or wait to get facts on. I have special popcorn for infosec Twitter's predictable race to scratch and bite its way into those fleeting headlines. But it's a crap situation for trying to figure out what the hell is really going on, not to mention that it adds a heavy load of bad news to our already-overwhelming bad-news saturation levels.

This week's hot new cyberattack is definitely doing its share of damage, but that damage shouldn't be to our sanity. We have to stay informed, yet the level of hysteria and craziness from this week of cyberconfusion alone is enough to make anyone want to check out. And this is already after a lot of people spent the first few months after America's 2016 election feeling scared and depressed, frantically checking their phones every five minutes for the next batch of I-can't-believe-it's-happening news.

Take my advice and make a plan to cut through the noise. Look at your news sources and trim them down; with cybersecurity, pick a few sources (or better, individual journalists) you can trust, and cull the rest from the herd. This is often the hardest part; The New York Times reported it as ransomware, making that source one you should definitely question.

It helps to take a little time to look at what people are saying about sources and journalists when it comes to hacking and infosec, and to be especially critical of people's motivations behind their soundbites and headlines. Everyone in infosec (and cybersecurity journalism) wants to be famous, but few are willing to take the time to be correct. When you find ones you can trust, they'll usually be solutions-oriented -- and not trying to get your clicks, seek validation, or sell you anything.

#Petya encrypts ON BOOT. If you see CHKDSK message your files not yet encrypted, power off immediately. You can recover with with LiveCD. pic.twitter.com/nKL4Xixjn9

— Hacker Fantastic (@hackerfantastic) June 27, 2017

Next, decide what kind of hacking news is going to be your priority -- the Russian hacking scandal, ransomware, breaches, encryption -- and deprioritize anything else. Then establish a baseline of hours each day for you to spend on news reading and social media, like one hour in the morning, one in the afternoon, and one in the evening. In researching news overwhelm for my book, one psychologist I interviewed told me, "I know that I personally was spending nearly four hours a day on news, and finally had to decide an hour was enough." Once you make a determined plan on how many hours are reasonable, this is your target.

So, at the very least, we're now ready for next week's panic.

Image: Getty (Laptop fire)

- Repost from: engadget Post

#ITlive #engadget #The hot new cyberattack that's sweeping the nation

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myeclecticcollectorblazeus · 4 years

Link

Only days after the Kremlin assured the Russians that the coronavirus pandemic was under control, Moscow’s Mayor Sergei Sobyanin told Russian President Vladimir Putin that “the momentum is high and a serious situation is unfolding.” Contrary to the previously reported low rate of infection, "the real number of those who are sick is significantly higher,” Sobyanin said. He added that the number of tests conducted to date has been extremely low “and no one on earth knows the real picture.”Russia Swore It Whipped the Virus, and Fox and CNN Bought ItOn Wednesday, officially released statistics listed 658 coronavirus infections and no deaths. To date, there have been at least 3 known deaths of coronavirus patients in Russia, but they are being attributed to other causes and thereby deceptively omitted from government reports. The official bulletin about the coronavirus, released by Russia’s federal agency Rospotrebnadzor on March 24, states that more than 112,074 people remain under medical supervision.Concerned Russian doctors sounded the alarm that potential coronavirus cases are being ascribed to pneumonia and seasonal flu without testing. For example, the city of St. Petersburg experienced a sharp jump of SARS (Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome) virus cases. During just one week in March, 63,000 SARS cases and 406 cases of pneumonia have been recorded, according to Interfax. The city’s administration emphasized that the incidence of SARS is at the epidemiological threshold. The Interfax news report did not point out that the official name of the novel coronavirus is SARS-CoV-2.In light of the Kremlin’s pandemic propensity for lying, the public disregarded initial claims that the government successfully curtailed the spread of the coronavirus. Panic buying ensued, leading to the rising prices of sugar, buckwheat, produce and other food items.As the coronavirus curve keeps on climbing, President Putin is on a mission to demonstrate his leadership. He postponed a nationwide vote on pending constitutional changes, which are meant to secure his lifelong presidency. The voting may take place later in the year and possibly be conducted by mail. The decision is being left solely to Putin.Putin Worries Coronavirus Could Screw Up His Constitutional ‘Coronation’In a televised address to the nation Wednesday, Putin announced a sweeping array of measures, which he said were designed to prevent “what is happening today in many Western countries, both in Europe and overseas” from becoming Russia’s future. Starting on March 28, Russians are getting one week of paid leave to stay home, in an attempt to “flatten the curve” of the pandemic. With exception of the Russians trying to return from abroad, Russia stopped all international flights.Russian pundits and medical experts described the fight against the coronavirus pandemic as a rehearsal for biological warfare. Vladimir Putin has ordered the Russian army to carry out drills designed to increase its readiness to fight the novel coronavirus. The drills will include specialist medical units and nuclear, biological and chemical protection troops. Discussions are underway as to the potential cancellation of the Victory Day parade in May of this year, but final determination will be made depending on the efforts to curtail the spread of the coronavirus. There is a possibility the parade, commemorating the surrender of the Nazis in WWII, may be held without spectators. U.S. National Security Adviser Robert O’Brien is currently set to attend the event, in lieu of Donald J. Trump. Kremlin-controlled state TV shows are taking unprecedented measures to protect some of their most cherished assets: the hosts, whose full-throated support of Vladimir Putin is especially important during these challenging times. Popular Russian info-talk show 60 Minutes is now filming its segments without audiences. After the host Olga Skabeeva could be heard coughing during a commercial break, she was separated from her husband and co-host Evgeny Popov. The married couple are now hosting 60 Minutes separately, on different days. Likewise, they are staying apart during the off-work hours, because even if one of them falls ill, the show must go on.Speaking of performance art, Vladimir Putin embarked on a visit to Moscow’s hospital for monitoring suspected coronavirus patients. Unlike U.S. President Donald J. Trump, who frequently claims that the threat of coronavirus is widely overblown, Vladimir Putin is an old Chekist who believes in science, facts and bio-warfare. Taking no chances, Putin donned a hazmat suit and visited only one patient— Dmitry Garkavi, who is a doctor and a social media influencer. The drop-in was not particularly risky, since Garkavi was hospitalized with pneumonia, and tested negative for coronavirus—twice. In his social media posts, Garkavi remarked that he communicated with Vladimir Putin for all of “10-15 seconds.” After the brief exchange, Putin observed other patients through the glass of the hospital’s control room, was helped out of his outfit and promptly left the building. The hazmat suit sported by the Russian leader was distinctly different than the protective attire worn by hospital workers. It was purchased for the Russian president by his staff especially for his hospital visit. Putin’s yellow jumpsuit is now in high demand, but is completely sold out at the store where it was bought.Vladimir Putin’s coronavirus photo op promptly made the rounds on Russian state television. During his show, The Evening with Vladimir Soloviev, the host beamed with pride when he pointed out: “Out of all of the world leaders, only [China’a President] Xi Jinping and [Russian President] Vladimir Putin went to visit the sick.” For contrast, Soloviev introduced a clip of the U.S. President Donald J. Trump rapidly moving away from the White House's coronavirus task force response coordinator, Dr Deborah Birx, as soon as she mentioned her low grade fever.In spite of Russia’s own issues with coronavirus testing, widespread shortages of medical equipment and protective medical gear, the Kremlin is posturing by offering to help other countries in fighting the coronavirus pandemic. Russian Ambassador to the United States Anatoly Antonov offered to help Washington in the fight against the outbreak of the novel coronavirus and complained about “rude” American media trying to switch the focus to other countries (like Russia).State TV host Vladimir Soloviev pompously predicted: “I have a feeling that we will end up saving humanity—again, like we’ve done more than once,” an apparent reference to Russia’s sacrifices defeating the Nazis in World War II. Russian state media are framing the failure by the Trump administration to offer help to its European allies in their fight against the deadly pandemic as the defeat of the United States, the end of NATO, and the virtual nonexistence of transatlantic unity. Russian experts believe that the outcome of the global fight against the coronavirus pandemic will change the entire balance of power in the world. Russian state media outlet Vesti described the course chosen by the administration of the U.S. President Donald J. Trump as “indecisive,” “poorly coordinated” and hesitant to implement the tough measures recommended by the experts in curtailing the deadly pandemic.Vesti argued that “coronavirus will determine the winner in the rivalry between China and the United States.” But the stakes are much higher. Kremlin-controlled media believe that on a larger scale, “the success or failure of the United States will form a global view of the effectiveness of democracy compared to autocracy. This, in turn, will affect America’s global position, its ability to attract vacillating allies into its orbit from China’s sphere of influence, and possibly determine the global geopolitical leader for years to come.”Read more at The Daily Beast.Get our top stories in your inbox every day. Sign up now!Daily Beast Membership: Beast Inside goes deeper on the stories that matter to you. Learn more.

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banelemental · 4 years

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morningusa · 4 years

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blogzshah · 4 years

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attredd · 4 years

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