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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year ago

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Apple fucked us on right to repair (again)

Today (September 22), I'm (virtually) presenting at the DIG Festival in Modena, Italy. Tonight, I'll be in person at LA's Book Soup for the launch of Justin C Key's "The World Wasn’t Ready for You." On September 27, I'll be at Chevalier's Books in Los Angeles with Brian Merchant for a joint launch for my new book The Internet Con and his new book, Blood in the Machine.

Right to repair has no cannier, more dedicated adversary than Apple, a company whose most innovative work is dreaming up new ways to sneakily sabotage electronics repair while claiming to be a caring environmental steward, a lie that covers up the mountains of e-waste that Apple dooms our descendants to wade through.

Why does Apple hate repair so much? It's not that they want to poison our water and bodies with microplastics; it's not that they want to hasten the day our coastal cities drown; it's not that they relish the human misery that accompanies every gram of conflict mineral. They aren't sadists. They're merely sociopathically greedy.

Tim Cook laid it out for his investors: when people can repair their devices, they don't buy new ones. When people don't buy new devices, Apple doesn't sell them new devices. It's that's simple:

https://www.inverse.com/article/52189-tim-cook-says-apple-faces-2-key-problems-in-surprising-shareholder-letter

So Apple does everything it can to monopolize repair. Not just because this lets the company gouge you on routine service, but because it lets them decide when your phone is beyond repair, so they can offer you a trade-in, ensuring both that you buy a new device and that the device you buy is another Apple.

There are so many tactics Apple gets to use to sabotage repair. For example, Apple engraves microscopic Apple logos on the subassemblies in its devices. This allows the company to enlist US Customs to seize and destroy refurbished parts that are harvested from dead phones by workers in the Pacific Rim:

https://repair.eu/news/apple-uses-trademark-law-to-strengthen-its-monopoly-on-repair/

Of course, the easiest way to prevent harvested components from entering the parts stream is to destroy as many old devices as possible. That's why Apple's so-called "recycling" program shreds any devices you turn over to them. When you trade in your old iPhone at an Apple Store, it is converted into immortal e-waste (no other major recycling program does this). The logic is straightforward: no parts, no repairs:

https://www.vice.com/en/article/yp73jw/apple-recycling-iphones-macbooks

Shredding parts and cooking up bogus trademark claims is just for starters, though. For Apple, the true anti-repair innovation comes from the most pernicious US tech law: Section 1201 of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act (DMCA).

DMCA 1201 is an "anti-circumvention" law. It bans the distribution of any tool that bypasses "an effective means of access control." That's all very abstract, but here's what it means: if a manufacturer sticks some Digital Rights Management (DRM) in its device, then anything you want to do that involves removing that DRM is now illegal – even if the thing itself is perfectly legal.

When Congress passed this stupid law in 1998, it had a very limited blast radius. Computers were still pretty expensive and DRM use was limited to a few narrow categories. In 1998, DMCA 1201 was mostly used to prevent you from de-regionalizing your DVD player to watch discs that had been released overseas but not in your own country.

But as we warned back then, computers were only going to get smaller and cheaper, and eventually, it would only cost manufacturers pennies to wrap their products – or even subassemblies in their products – in DRM. Congress was putting a gun on the mantelpiece in Act I, and it was bound to go off in Act III.

Welcome to Act III.

Today, it costs about a quarter to add a system-on-a-chip to even the tiniest parts. These SOCs can run DRM. Here's how that DRM works: when you put a new part in a device, the SOC and the device's main controller communicate with one another. They perform a cryptographic protocol: the part says, "Here's my serial number," and then the main controller prompts the user to enter a manufacturer-supplied secret code, and the master controller sends a signed version of this to the part, and the part and the system then recognize each other.

This process has many names, but because it was first used in the automotive sector, it's widely known as VIN-Locking (VIN stands for "vehicle identification number," the unique number given to every car by its manufacturer). VIN-locking is used by automakers to block independent mechanics from repairing your car; even if they use the manufacturer's own parts, the parts and the engine will refuse to work together until the manufacturer's rep keys in the unlock code:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/24/rent-to-pwn/#kitt-is-a-demon

VIN locking is everywhere. It's how John Deere stops farmers from fixing their own tractors – something farmers have done literally since tractors were invented:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/05/08/about-those-kill-switched-ukrainian-tractors/

It's in ventilators. Like mobile phones, ventilators are a grotesquely monopolized sector, controlled by a single company Medtronic, whose biggest claim to fame is effecting the world's largest tax inversion in order to manufacture the appearance that it is an Irish company and therefore largely untaxable. Medtronic used the resulting windfall to gobble up most of its competitors.

During lockdown, as hospitals scrambled to keep their desperately needed supply of ventilators running, Medtronic's VIN-locking became a lethal impediment. Med-techs who used donor parts from one ventilator to keep another running – say, transplanting a screen – couldn't get the device to recognize the part because all the world's civilian aircraft were grounded, meaning Medtronic's technicians couldn't swan into their hospitals to type in the unlock code and charge them hundreds of dollars.

The saving grace was an anonymous, former Medtronic repair tech, who built pirate boxes to generate unlock codes, using any housing they could lay hands on to use as a case: guitar pedals, clock radios, etc. This tech shipped these gadgets around the world, observing strict anonymity, because Article 6 of the EUCD also bans circumvention:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/07/10/flintstone-delano-roosevelt/#medtronic-again

Of course, Apple is a huge fan of VIN-locking. In phones, VIN-locking is usually called "serializing" or "parts-pairing," but it's the same thing: a tiny subassembly gets its own microcontroller whose sole purpose is to prevent independent repair technicians from fixing your gadget. Parts-pairing lets Apple block repairs even when the technician uses new, Apple parts – but it also lets Apple block refurb parts and third party parts.

For many years, Apple was the senior partner and leading voice in blocking state Right to Repair bills, which it killed by the dozen, leading a coalition of monopolists, from Wahl (who boobytrap their hair-clippers with springs that cause their heads irreversibly decompose if you try to sharpen them at home) to John Deere (who reinvented tenant farming by making farmers tenants of their tractors, rather than their land).

But Apple's opposition to repair eventually became a problem for the company. It's bad optics, and both Apple customers and Apple employees are volubly displeased with the company's ecocidal conduct. But of course, Apple's management and shareholders hate repair and want to block it as much as possible.

But Apple knows how to Think Differently. It came up with a way to eat its cake and have it, too. The company embarked on a program of visibly support right to repair, while working behind the scenes to sabotage it.

Last year, Apple announced a repair program. It was hilarious. If you wanted to swap your phone's battery, all you had to do was let Apple put a $1200 hold on your credit card, and then wait while the company shipped you 80 pounds' worth of specialized tools, packed in two special Pelican cases:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/05/22/apples-cement-overshoes/

Then, you swapped your battery, but you weren't done! After your battery was installed, you had to conference in an authorized Apple tech who would tell you what code to type into a laptop you tethered to the phone in order to pair it with your phone. Then all you had to do was lug those two 40-pound Pelican cases to a shipping depot and wait for Apple to take the hold off your card (less the $120 in parts and fees).

By contrast, independent repair outfits like iFixit will sell you all the tools you need to do your own battery swap – including the battery! for $32. The whole kit fits in a padded envelope:

https://www.ifixit.com/products/iphone-x-replacement-battery

But while Apple was able to make a showy announcement of its repair program and then hide the malicious compliance inside those giant Pelican cases, sabotaging right to repair legislation is a lot harder.

Not that they didn't try. When New York State passed the first general electronics right-to-repair bill in the country, someone convinced New York Governor Kathy Hochul to neuter it with last-minute modifications:

https://arstechnica.com/gadgets/2022/12/weakened-right-to-repair-bill-is-signed-into-law-by-new-yorks-governor/

But that kind of trick only works once. When California's right to repair bill was introduced, it was clear that it was gonna pass. Rather than get run over by that train, Apple got on board, supporting the legislation, which passed unanimously:

https://www.ifixit.com/News/79902/apples-u-turn-tech-giant-finally-backs-repair-in-california

But Apple got the last laugh. Because while California's bill contains many useful clauses for the independent repair shops that keep your gadgets out of a landfill, it's a state law, and DMCA 1201 is federal. A state law can't simply legalize the conduct federal law prohibits. California's right to repair bill is a banger, but it has a weak spot: parts-pairing, the scourge of repair techs:

https://www.ifixit.com/News/69320/how-parts-pairing-kills-independent-repair

Every generation of Apple devices does more parts-pairing than the previous one, and the current models are so infested with paired parts as to be effectively unrepairable, except by Apple. It's so bad that iFixit has dropped its repairability score for the iPhone 14 from a 7 ("recommend") to a 4 (do not recommend):

https://www.ifixit.com/News/82493/we-are-retroactively-dropping-the-iphones-repairability-score-en

Parts-pairing is bullshit, and Apple are scum for using it, but they're hardly unique. Parts-pairing is at the core of the fuckery of inkjet printer companies, who use it to fence out third-party ink, so they can charge $9,600/gallon for ink that pennies to make:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2020/11/ink-stained-wretches-battle-soul-digital-freedom-taking-place-inside-your-printer

Parts-pairing is also rampant in powered wheelchairs, a heavily monopolized sector whose predatory conduct is jaw-droppingly depraved:

https://uspirgedfund.org/reports/usp/stranded

But if turning phones into e-waste to eke out another billion-dollar stock buyback is indefensible, stranding people with disabilities for months at a time while they await repairs is so obviously wicked that the conscience recoils. That's why it was so great when Colorado passed the nation's first wheelchair right to repair bill last year:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2022/06/when-drm-comes-your-wheelchair

California actually just passed two right to repair bills; the other one was SB-271, which mirrors Colorado's HB22-1031:

https://leginfo.legislature.ca.gov/faces/billNavClient.xhtml?bill_id=202320240SB271

This is big! It's momentum! It's a start!

But it can't be the end. When Bill Clinton signed DMCA 1201 into law 25 years ago, he loaded a gun and put it on the nation's mantlepiece and now it's Act III and we're all getting sprayed with bullets. Everything from ovens to insulin pumps, thermostats to lightbulbs, has used DMCA 1201 to limit repair, modification and improvement.

Congress needs to rid us of this scourge, to let us bring back all the benefits of interoperability. I explain how this all came to be – and what we should do about it – in my new Verso Books title, The Internet Con: How to Seize the Means of Computation.

https://www.versobooks.com/products/3035-the-internet-con

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

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/22/vin-locking/#thought-differently

Image: Mitch Barrie (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Daytona_Skeleton_AR-15_completed_rifle_%2817551907724%29.jpg

CC BY-SA 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/deed.en

kambanji (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/kambanji/4135216486/

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

Rawpixel (modified) https://www.rawpixel.com/image/12438797/png-white-background

#pluralistic #vin locking #apple #right to repair #california #ifixit #iphones #sb244 #parts pairing #serialization #dmca 1201 #felony contempt of business model #ewaste #repairwashing #fuckery

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multiversed-daydreamer · 7 months ago

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Date Night

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x Reader

Summary: Javi hires you to be his date for a company Christmas party.

A/N: This was supposed to be a part of a Secret Santa fic exchanged with some friends last year but my computer crapped out and I'm just now able to post this. Also, I have not seen TUWoMT so I'm sorry if Javi is out of character.

@noxturnalpascal this is for you bby, I'm so sorry it took so long.

The escort service he’d hired from had been the top most rated in Los Angeles. You were gorgeous, Javi thought as you stepped out of the Uber in a beautiful dark green dress that hugged your curves and matched his green blazer and tie. You smile when your eyes find his, introducing yourself and shaking his hand.

He’s charming, it was the first thing you noticed about him when you shook his hand. His eyes sparkle and his lips curl up in a beautiful smile. He introduces himself as Javi, with a sweet Spanish accent, and offers you his arm. You smile, hoping like hell he wasn’t one of the weird ones, because you already liked him. The event he’d hired for you was a corporate Christmas party in downtown LA, at one of the impressive, modern skyscrapers that hosted notable writers and directors for Hollywood’s finest. You briefly wondered if you’d know anyone there from past jobs. It’s not uncommon.

Javi took you around, introducing you to people, shaking hands, and smiling brightly, all the while hanging off of Javi’s steady arm. When the introductions died off a little, Javi snagged some champagne for the two of you and ended up off to the side where you could people-watch as you drank and spoke quietly.

“Is there a project you’re working on currently, Javi?” You ask, genuinely curious about the handsome man's work.

“An action film.” He replies, almost bashful as he says it. “I’d like to get Nicolas Cage to star in it.”

“I’m sure he’d love to. He’s already starred in one of your movies, right?” You smile at him. He’s cute. Handsome but a little bashful when talking about his own interests, a rarity in his field.

“Oh, yes he has. He is my good friend. I’d love to have him in all of my movies if I could!” Javi responds with a sheepish grin. You talked and flirted easily with one another, Javi had a good sense of humor and he was surprisingly respectful, giving you his full attention when you talked and when you two ended up on the dance floor his hands were warm and gentle against you. He was funny and passionate and seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say. A lot of men who hired you expected you to be seen but not heard and still got mad when you would let them take you to their bed at the end of the night. Javi might be the one you’d finally let take you home at the end of the night if he was interested. He seemed interested, watching your lips with a small smile as you spoke and his thumb rubbed your back in small circles as you two swayed to the Christmas music.

As the party winds down and you’ve said your goodbyes to Javi’s coworkers and their dates, you press close to him as you step outside. It isn’t cold here in LA but you press against him anyways, a little tipsy from the champagne and a little giddy at the way he chuckles at you.

“Are you cold?” He asks, reaching to unbutton his suit jacket.

“A little.” You weren’t but you kinda wanted to wear his jacket for a minute. Sure enough, he doesn’t hesitate to take it off and wrap it around your shoulders. It smelled like his cologne and it was warm from his body heat, and it swallowed your shoulders in a heat that had you relaxing as you climbed into the back of a limousine with Javi. “Thank you. I had fun tonight. And I know I was paid to act like I did, but I mean it, this was the best work night I’ve had maybe ever.”

He smiles at you. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. I had a wonderful time with you.” He gives you another bright smile and you grin back, he’s gorgeous. His hand finds yours, and is warm and strong, his thumb stroking over your knuckles as he watches you. “I’d like to take you to dinner sometime, on a real date, I mean.” You nod eagerly.

“I’d love that.” He grins brightly at your acceptance.

“Excellent.” His tone eager as the limo pulls up to the hotel you had been picked up from. You bite your lip as you eye Javi next to you.

“Would you like to come up with me?” A coy playfulness to your tone.

That bashfulness was back in his eyes and he looked like a shy puppy. “I did not want to assume. But, yes, if you are comfortable with it, I’d love to.” You grin back and take his hand in yours, pulling him out of the car and into the hotel lobby. A couple of women your age were waiting for the elevator, they eyed you and Javi curiously, but if he noticed the others checking him out, he didn’t show it, too busy asking you questions and answering your own. You liked that, his attention solely on you. It made you more and more confident that you made the correct decision in letting him come up to your room. The elevator doors open and you two stumble out, looking far drunker than you actually are, holding hands and laughing at nothing and everything at the same time. “I swear I’m not drunk.” You promise with a laugh in your voice.

He grins, not fairing much better as you stop at your door. “A lightweight, I see.” He teases, but his hands remain gentle on your waist as you find your room card in your wallet and swipe it in front of the door. Again you are impressed with his restraint, most men would be pawing at you by now, trying to cop a feel of a breast or teasing their fingers up your thigh, but Javi remains stead and gentle behind you, even lifting one hand from your waist to hold the door open as you two duck inside. Once in, he leans back against the door, dark eyes slowly tracing over your body with a small but genuine smile. It makes you smile, it’s not leering or snide, it's just a look of appreciation and you nearly melt under it.

“Why so distant all of a sudden?” You ask, a hint of a taunt in your voice. He flashes that bright smile and a low laugh.

“I can’t appreciate you from afar for a moment?” He responds, but as he does he kicks off of the door and steps closer, his large hands coming up to cup your face. You smile up at him, your own hands coming up to wrap around his broad back.

“I think I like you close.”

His grin somehow widens further before he leans down to kiss you. His mouth is warm and soft at first but the passion takes over quickly, one of his hands dropping to curl around you to pull you closer as he presses his tongue against yours. You moan at the feeling and press your torso to his. When you eventually pull away for air, he looks down at you with a glazed expression his hands gently pushing his jacket from your shoulders. “Bed?” He asks, his hands stroking down your back with a pleasant kind of pressure. You nod and pull him forward into the room, landing on the big plush bed in the middle of the room. He hovers above you, eyeing you like he can’t quite believe you’re actually letting him do this.

“Earth to Javi.” You jest when he doesn’t make a move to proceed. His dark puppy dog eyes find you and he smiles like you make his whole world go round.

“I’m positive I’ve gone to heaven, beautiful girl.” He murmurs back before leaning down to capture your mouth in another passionate kiss. You fumble with his tie and the buttons on his shirt as his hands continue to explore your curves with slow, firm strokes. It has your muscles relaxing under his touch. Javi’s fingers gently guide you into sitting up so he can reach for the zipper on the back of your dress. He raises an eyebrow in question. “Is this okay?”

You nod reassuringly, “Yes, I’m more than okay with this.” He smiles and unzips your dress, watching with dark eyes as he unwraps you from its dark green material. When he’s removed it, you’re clad in only a bra and matching panties. He kneels on the floor in front of you, his face slacked in awe as he leans forward to mouth at your stomach, his warm hands rubbing away the goosebumps that had raised on your skin in the chilly air. You hum at the feeling, one hand sliding through his curly hair as you wrap your legs around him, pulling him forward and leaning down to steal a passionate kiss of your own. His hands slide around you to unhook your bra, he pulls it off and throws it aside, ducking down to capture one of your nipples between his plush lips. He sucks on it, making you moan and arch into him encouragingly. He gives the other similar treatment before moving down your stomach, moaning against your skin.

“You’re so beautiful.” He hums, his big brown eyes watching your face as he guides you to lay back on the bed and his hands slide to your hips. He gives them a gentle squeeze as he leans forwards to kiss at your thighs, fingers creeping to curl under your panties to tug them down. “Let me see you, yes?” You nod encouragingly, obliging him.

He throws your panties somewhere behind him as you pull him in for another kiss, your fingers undoing the knot of his tie and fumbling with the buttons of his shirt until he takes over to take it off entirely. He smiles at you, gently shiting your legs apart so he can kiss along your inner thigh, moving up to kiss your clit. You moan softly at the sight, one hand moving back to brace yourself on your elbows, the other moving to card through Javi’s hair. He licks at your folds, lapping against your clit until your mouth drops open. “Javi!” You moan, your legs opening wider and your hips pressing into his mouth as his hands curl around your hips, holding you to him as he slides his tongue inside of you with a hum.

“You taste so good.” He purrs, leaning down to suck at your clit lightly, shifting to slide a finger into you. He chuckles against you. “So wet.” He murmurs and you chuckle with him.

“You have a charm to you, Mr. Guiterez.” You smile back at him as he slowly slides his finger in and out of you, ducking back down to press feather-light kisses to your sex. He slides a second finger into you and you moan, rocking against him as he takes an easy, gentle pace to prepare you. He curls his fingers inside of you, coaxing more noises from your throat as pleasure sings through your veins. He licks steadily at your clit as he fingers you, slowly building the pressure up but keeping his pace slow enough that you won’t cum. He adds a third finger once you’re ready and the feeling of it makes you groan.

He grins, “Does that feel good?” He curls his fingers upwards, pulling a whimper from you as he does so.

“You’re a tease.” You manage to respond, trying to roll your hips into him a little more desperately. He holds you down gently as he smirks at you.

“Am I?” He asks, feigning innocence. “I’m just making sure you’re well prepared.” He says, sliding his fingers in and out of you.

“Please, I’m ready, I swear.” You pant, needy, and wanting to get him to a similar point in return. “Besides, you’re wearing too many clothes.” He nods, pulling his fingers out of you and cleaning them off with his mouth. He stands up, his mouth capturing yours and you can taste yourself on him as your hands go to the prominent bulge straining against the nice dress slacks he’s still wearing. You rub your palm up and down against the hard outline of his dick, enjoying the breathy moan he gives for your effort. You pull away from the kiss and Javi rights himself, watching you with wide eyes and his lips parted as you unbuckle his belt and undo his pants, tugging them down his hips. He takes over, stepping out of his pants and underwear, his erection bobbing as it springs free. You reach for him, curling your fingers around his thick length as he steps between your legs again. You look up at him, stroking his hard cock as he lets loose another moan.

He gestures to the top of the bed where fluffy pillows lay untouched. “Scoot up.” You do so, tugging him over you as you do. He laughs as you press kisses to each other's shoulders and necks. As you get settled, your hands trace over his broad, muscular back, as his warm body settles gently over you. Your legs wrap around his waist and your mouths find each other again. Your hand tangles into his hair as his tongue entwines with yours. You both moan as his erection slides against your wet center.

“Please.” You whisper, “Want you in me, Javi.” You reach down to stroke his cock again, this time to spread your arousal over him. He gasps and bucks into your hand.

“Yeah? Really?” He asks. You nod.

“Need you, Javi.” You press up into him, and he smiles and nods, pushing himself onto his knees so he can take his own member into his hands. He lines himself up and slides into you carefully, watching your face to make sure you're comfortable. Once he’s inside, he pauses for a moment, checking in to make sure nothing hurts or is uncomfortable.

“I’m alright.” squirming a little at the size of him. “I need you to move.”

He nods, leaning down to brace himself on his elbows above you, his eyes watching you near rapturously as he slowly rolls his hips. Your mouth drops open at the feeling, and your hands cling to his back as he grins, taking up a smooth pace that sends pleasure spiking through your body. You call out his name in a keen as his rhythm picks up, building your pleasure. Your back arches and your legs tighten around him. He groans his own pleasure into your ear as he kisses over your neck and nips playfully at your jaw and earlobe. “Feel so good, beautiful girl.”

As you both approach your climaxes, his thrusts grow more insistent. You roll your hips in tandem, desperate to reach your release. Your head falls back against the pillows and your orgasm hits you as you cry his name repeatedly. “Javi! Javi! Javi!” He groans roughly, carefully taking you through your high before pulling out and finishing himself on your stomach.

He flops down next to you to catch his breath for a few moments. “So… Breakfast tomorrow?” He asks it hopefully and you laugh.

“I look forward to it.” You respond. He grins, kissing you once more before going to start a bath for the two of you. You look up at the ceiling, reliving the great night you’ve just had. One of many, you hope.

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed it. Please let me know what you all think!

#javi gutierrez #javi gutierrez x reader #the unbearable weight of massive talent #pedro pascal #tuwomt

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gretavangroupie · 2 years ago

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Burn (Chapter 1)

Word count: 7.7k+

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ as always, language, drinking, smut, fluff.

Burn Playlist

Your hair hangs in your face as you walk down the narrow plane aisle searching for your assigned seat.

14B.

Your backpack is heavy, full of paperwork and your computer, digging into the sore muscles of your shoulders. It has been an intense weekend in Los Angeles for work, and you’re more than ready to get back home and have a bit of normallcy again. Eyes scanning each aisle, you finally spot your seat. You step into the empty row, slide your bag under the seat in front of you and sit down buckling the lap belt. You fish your AirPods out of your pocket and put them in. Your hair hangs as a curtain around your face, shielding you from any conversation or eye contact while you scroll through your phone searching for an album to play.

You lower the middle arm rest and begrudgingly wait to see who will be sitting next to you for the next few hours. It’s a long flight from Los Angeles to Nashville and you’re more than happy to sleep the entire way.

Scrolling through Spotify looking at your downloaded albums, you settle for a daily mix from 3 weeks ago that has just seemed to hit the spot lately. Comforting songs that take you back to different times in your life, taking your mind off of everything going on in your life currently. Your phone buzzes in your lap.

Jimmy: Have a safe flight, see you Monday.

Oh, Jimmy…

A few weeks ago you let one drink turn into 4 and then the next thing you knew you were tangled in the sheets with him. He is cute and very sweet but something just never clicked for you. You knew that it was probably just a one time thing, he clearly doesn’t feel the same. You lock your phone and shove it under your leg. Leaning into the window you can hear the shuffling of people passing your seat making their way to theirs.

As a group enters the plane they are slightly loud causing you to look from your phone for a second subconsciously before returning back to your Instagram notifications. You see someone stop at your seat and look over to see them stretching up to place their bag in the overhead bin, their face obstructed by the bag, revealing a sliver of skin and a sprinkling of hair at their happy trail, you look away quickly but a pink leash hanging loosely from their arm catches your eye. Following the leash down to the floor you see a brindle pit bull puppy, proudly wearing a Service Dog vest. Once his bag is situated, he ushers the dog into the floor below his seat. He then sits down, trying to arrange his legs with the dog's body.

As you look over to him, you’re met with the back of his head as he talks to someone behind him.

You notice the long shoulder length brown hair tied into a messy low bun. Gold Bose headphones hanging loosely around his neck.

Ok so maybe they won’t bother you, either. The dog is cute too.

You turn your head to look out the window and see the workers loading bags onto the conveyor belt hastily. Watching the colorful array of bags move up the belt you see a cart of hard cases being loaded with care. Guitar cases and gig boxes ready to be loaded next.

Huh, must be a musician on this flight.

As the cold air blows on your arms you reach up and turn the knob to turn it off. Your seat partner pulls out his phone and begins going through what seems like thousands of different notifications on his phone.

Not that your were looking…

His headphones are on now and his legs crossed casually as his foot bobs along to whatever music he is listening to.

Lifting your head from your phone you turn to glance at him out of the corner of your eye and your breath catches in your chest .

Sam Kiszka? Notorious class clown of Frankenmuth High School? Once your prom date, now turned famous band member and the talk of your hometown? What are the odds…

You quickly look away, hoping he doesn’t notice.

That must be the equipment you saw being loaded.

You turn your phone towards you and quickly search ‘Greta Van Fleet Los Angeles’. Results coming up immediately.

“Metallica throws ‘All Within My Hands’ Benefit In L.A. With Greta Van Fleet, Jimmy Kimmel, Friday December 16th.”

Quickly closing the article on your phone before he sees it, you text your best friend from high school, Lauren. You and her are still pretty close despite your move to Nashville for work. She still lives there and has her thumb on the pulse of the town.

You: You will never believe who is sitting next to me on my flight home from LA right now.

Lauren: Oh, LA this week, huh? Must be someone famous if you’re texting me!!! Who?

You: Oh they are famous alright…you’d definitely know him. Sam Kiszka ring any bells? Guess they had a show here this week. He has no idea he is sitting next to me. I have been hiding my face.

Lauren: oh. em. god. You are LYING! Is he still a dork? Are the rest of them there?? The love of my teenage life, Danny? God how embarrassing were we back then….

You: I have no idea, I haven’t talked to him and I’m gonna try not to. Also, there is no way I’m making a scene to turn around and see if the rest of them are on the flight. I would assume so though, I saw a bunch of equipment get loaded into the plane. God kill me now this a long flight.

Lauren: I don’t know, if I had the kind of glow up you’ve had since high school I would be going out of my way to talk to them. Lol!!! Keep me updated, have fun hahahah

You: UGH bye thanks for nothing

Lauren: ;)

The captain comes over the intercom stating your flight time and weather conditions and you set your phone in your lap paying attention to the flight attendant going over the safety pamphlet. Still trying your best to hide yourself through you hair, you nervously glancing at the row across from you slowly out of the corner of your eye.

Oh boy. Yep. Mmhmm. There they are. Okay. Hopefully they won’t remember you. Fat chance, but fingers crossed.

Daniel and Josh are sitting in the row opposite of you and Sam. Danny has a pair of headphones on and has his head leaned against the window attempting to catch up on some sleep. You can only assume that the life of a rockstar can be exhausting. Josh has his leg crossed across his knee and is trying to write in some sort of notebook furiously.

Some things never change I guess.

You sit back in your seat and mentally sing along to the song ringing through your AirPods as the plane begins to taxi to the runway.

Sam reaches to buckle his lap belt, his hand feeling between the two of you for the strap. You hold your breath hoping he doesn’t notice you. Grabbing the buckle his dog perks her head up.

“Lay down Rose, it's okay.” He says patting her head. She lays down on the floor stretching out on top of your feet.

“Oh! Rosie! Stay on our side!” He says trying to pull her off of you.

“Oh, she’s okay…” You reply.

“Sorry about that, she…” he stops making eye contact with you. “Oh….my gosh…” he says shocked.

Well I guess he recognizes you.

Looking at him, he’s exactly the same as you remember him, just a grown up version. More defined facial structures and a little bit of facial hair now.

“Hello, Sam…” you say defeated.

“Hi, oh my gosh I haven’t seen you in years! Like what? Since we graduated? You look…fantastic! ” He says with a smile.

“Yep, not since high school… Well more specifically when you left me at prom, and went home with Courtney.” You say with a smug look.

Clenching his teeth together, rubbing his chin with his fingers, “Yeah, never thought I would have to answer for that one, I’ll be honest… funny how your poor choices always seem to come back to get you…I do think about how stupid that was, sometimes.” he laughs.

The plane begins to move rapidly down the runway, lifting from the ground.

Sam reaches his hand down and places it on Rose’s head until the pressure of the escalation evens out.

You can tell he wants to keep talking when he removes his headphones from around his neck and sets them on his legs. You also remove your ear buds and shut them into their case, tucking them under your crossed leg.

“What were you doing in LA?” He asks.

“I was here for work, checking out the progress on a new acquisition property. A warehouse renovation in West Hollywood. My firm I intern for is based in Nash, but we kind of have properties all over. I’m always flying somewhere to keep things moving.” You reply.

“Wow, so you’re kind of a big deal?” He laughs.

“You’re one to talk, the only band to ever make it past Fischer Hall!” You joke.

“Yeah, I mean… you’re not wrong. You know none of us saw all this coming.” He shrugs.

“We were just gigging for a while and it kinda… took off.”

“Is Nashville home for you guys now?” You ask.

“It is, a few years ago we moved down. We all live kinda close but far enough away to get a break from each other.” He laughs.

“Where are y’all at?” You ask.

“We are in East Nashville.” He replies.

“Ah, me too! Love it there.” You say.

“No way! That's crazy!” He throws his arm across the aisle smacking Josh in the arm to get his attention. Josh snaps his head up with a hardened face ready to yell at Sam as he makes eye contact with you. His face instantly softens, “Oh my gosh! I haven’t seen you in years!” He says.

“That's what I said!” Sam replies laughing. At this point Danny looks up to see who Josh is talking to. A huge smile crossing his face as he sees you. “Wow, what a reunion!” He says pulling his headphones off. “What’s it been? Senior Prom? Was that the last time we all hung out?” He asks.

You nod your head yes, Sam throwing his head back rolling his eyes dramatically.

“Yeah Sam, you remember don’t you?” Danny prods him laughing. “When I had to drive your date home?”

“Yes, yes Daniel I recall.” He says cutting his eyes at him. “Back to your slumbers…” he says, waving his hand dismissively at him.

Danny giggles and puts his headphones back on.

“Are you in Nashville now?” Josh asks.

“Yeah! I was just telling Sammy I’m in East Nash. I travel a lot for work and my firm is based in Nashville so it was the clear choice for the move.” You reply.

“We too, travel a lot for work.” He laughs.

“So good to see you, we will have to all catch up sometime when we are all in town. Like old times.” He says.

“Absolutely, it would be fun.” You reply.

Yeah absolutely…. Absolutely no intention of seeing them again after you step off this plane.

Sitting back in your seat you begin to scroll your phone mindlessly.

“You know, I never did apologize for leaving you there that night. I am sorry about that. The night went to shit after that, so it wasn’t even worth it. Should have stayed with you guys.” He smirks.

“Ahh, it was a long time ago Sam, don’t worry about it.” You smile up at him.

“You know, I liked you a lot back then. I didn’t realize it at the time, I was much too cool for all of that. By the time I did come to terms with it, we didn’t talk anymore, then we graduated and the band was taking off…” he says, rambling on. “I’m just… sorry for all of it I guess.”

“If it makes you feel better, I liked you too. But I was scared to tell you… It was easier to just be friends.” You reply.

“You did?” He asks.

“Of course I did, Sam! I went to prom with you didn’t I?” You laugh.

“Well yeah, but I didn’t know you liked me that way? I just figured… well because Lauren and Danny…” he says, rolling the sleeves up on his brown button up shirt.

“I know…but yeah, I did. Part of me thought maybe…” you say before stopping yourself, “Anyways, look at us now, all grown up and doing well, everyones happy…”

“Yeah, life is interesting for sure…” he says with an inquisitive look on his face.

Josh taps his shoulder and he turns to talk to him. You take the chance to put your AirPods back in and listen to some music. You turn on your favorite ‘Humble Pie’ album and scroll through a few work emails.

You see Sam turn back to you wanting to continue talking but noticing you have your earbuds in. He puts his headphones on and follows suit.

About an hour later you look over and see all three of the guys sleeping with their mouths open, and you chuckle to yourself, snapping a picture to send to Lauren later.

All of the sudden from behind you a face peeks through the crack in the seat.

“You’re going to send that to me right?” Jake's unmistakable voice says.

“Oh god Jake, you scared me! I didn’t know you were behind me!” You whisper, so as not to wake Sam.

“Sorry.” He smirks with a side smile.

“I don’t think I have your number anymore… I’m sure they have all changed by now.” You laugh.

“Surprisingly, no… we have been pretty good about keeping ourselves private. But that picture is some good blackmail material, I could use.” He says.

“Okay well, remind me when we land…” you laugh.

“You got it.” He says sitting back in his seat.

About halfway through the flight, the flight attendants come by with drinks and the guys all wake up, never missing a chance for a drink.

“I’ll have a vodka soda if you have it…” he says to the attendant before turning to you. “Do you want one?” He asks.

“Sure.” You say shrugging your shoulders.

“Make that two, thank you so much.” He says smiling at her.

She hands the drinks to him, and he passes one to you.

“To old friends…” he says, lifting his glass to yours.

“Cheers!” You smile back clinking your plastic glasses together.

“You know, if you’re ever free we should get together.” He says taking a sip of his drink.

You look at him, raising your eyebrows. “Sam, we’re different people now then we were then…” you say, giving him an out.

“I know, I’m intrigued. I’d like to get to know this version of you, I liked the old version too though.” He says with a soft smile.

“Samuel Kiszka, are you flirting with me right now?” You laugh.

“I think so…” he says with a big smile.

You stare at him with a smirk for a second before reaching into your bag and pulling out your business card, and sliding it across the tray table.

“Here.” You say.

“A business card… very fancy. I was thinking we would just exchange numbers.” He laughs.

“My number is on there you dummy…” you reply.

“Ah, yes that makes sense. Noted.” He replies, sliding it into the pocket of his shirt. “For safekeeping…” he laughs, patting the pocket.

An hour or so later the plane is nearing touchdown and you are so ready to stand up, you have shifted in your seat constantly for the past 30 minutes. You have to pee so bad but you’d rather die than have to climb over Sam’s legs. When the plane finally lands you anxiously wait for the front of the plane to clear out. Sam turns to you, “Do you have a bag? Can I get it for you?” He asks.

“Oh, no I just have my backpack, but thank you.” You reply.

“Oh okay, sure no problem.” He replies. You can tell he is flustered.

He stands when your turn arises, and slides out, Rose following after him. He grabs his bag from the overhead compartment and again you see that creamy sliver of skin as his shirt rides up. You swallow hard and look away.

He walks forward and You go to stand. Josh motions for you to go ahead, always the gentleman.

You pull your backpack on and stand up, making your way down the aisle, Josh and Danny following after you.

Once you make it off the plane and into the jet ramp, you fix your clothes. You decided to dress comfortably for the trip home, not thinking you would be running into people you knew. You have on black leggings, an oversized band tee and your white high top converse. Your hair has curls left over from the day before, more wavy now and hanging loosely on your shoulders.

Once you’re satisfied with yourself, you begin to walk up the ramp and hear Jake calling your name. You turn around and see him waving you down so you slow down to let him catch up with you.

“Hey, hey you have to send me that picture now, this is your reminder.” He says elbowing you in the side.

“Oh, yeah sure, hold on, I'll do it now.” You say grabbing your phone out of your backpack.

You pull up his contact and hold it up to him. “Is this still your number?” You ask.

“It is, but more curiously is why you have me saved under Jakey?” He laughs.

“That’s what we always called you! Are you too cool for that now?” You laugh.

“Yes.” He answers, faking confidence.

Josh rushes past to catch up with Sam, “Jakey meet us at baggage claim?” He says passing you.

You bite your lips] and look at Jake. “So anyways, you were saying?”

“Alright fine….” he laughs. “But text me that picture, and don't be a stranger.” He says saluting you as he tries to catch up with his brothers.

Danny approaches you, next taking his place next to you. “You are a sight for sore eyes.” He smiles at you. He always did have a beautiful smile.

“Could say the same Danny boy.” You reply.

“God I haven’t heard that since high school.” He laughs.

“Um, how’s Lauren?” He asks nervously.

“She is good, she is gonna laugh when I tell her I saw you guys.” You say.

“Oh you still talk to her?” He asks.

“Yeah, almost every day. She actually is coming down in a few days to visit. Haven’t seen her in a while.” You reply.

“To Nashville? How long will she be around? I would love to see her!” He says.

“Yes, Danny I live here!” you laugh. “She will be here for a week.”

“Maybe we can all hangout one night, like old times.” He says hopefully.

“Maybe so, I will talk to her about it.” You say, stepping into the baggage claim area.

“I know Sam would be thrilled…” he says smirking, walking over to meet them.

What? Why…

You quickly run to the bathroom, finally peeing after holding it for 3 hours. You wash your hands and return to the carousel, still waiting for your bags to start coming out. You walk over and stand in an empty space, directly across from the guys trying not to stare at them. They have all changed so much, lost their boyish charm, but now have distinct manly features. Now instead of being the cute boys from high school they are gorgeous, successful men.

You look up and see that Sam is staring at you. Your hands fidgeting with the straps on your backpack. As your eyes meet his a soft smile forms on his lips.

The belt begins to move and suitcases start to appear on the carousel.

Jake strolls over to the group with a large suitcase trolley, and you all begin to study the bags searching for your own. The gig boxes and guitar cases come out first, Danny and Jake loading them onto the trolley, stacking them high. You spot your suitcase coming through and you yank it by the handle and pull it to stand next to you. You look over at the group who is now all staring at you.

“Bye guys, it was good to see you!” You call across the sea of suitcases.

They all yell goodbye and wave and Sam smiles at you mouthing ‘bye’ sending a shiver down your spine.

Why does he still have this effect on you? He hasn’t been able to do that since high school?

You walk out the doors heading to long term parking and look for your car. As you walk up to it you dig your keys out of the bottom of your backpack, unlock it and load your suitcase. You get in the car and head home, so ready to unwind from the week and sleep in your own bed tonight.

After you have settled back at home you call Lauren and catch her up on everything that has happened, both of you absolutely cracking up at Sam flirting with you, and Danny asking how she was. You have dinner and get in your bed, so ready to sleep. Travel days always wear you out.

You plug your phone in and turn on the tv attempting to find some background noise to fall asleep to. As you start to doze off you hear your phone vibrate. You push your eyes back open grabbing it, thinking it was probably Lauren or a notification you never signed up to receive. Sam’s name flashes across the screen, you never changed his contact info from all those years ago. I guess his number really hadn’t changed.

Sammy K: New Acquisition Manager, huh?

Gosh you didn’t think he would actually text you…

You: I see you didn’t lose my card…

Sammy K: Did you think I would?

You: Honestly, yes…

Sammy K: I have been trying to do better about not losing important things.

Oh.

You: It was good seeing you today, Sam.

Sammy K: Can’t agree more.

You decide to leave the conversation at that, already half asleep anyways. You place your phone back on your nightstand and turn off the lamp. A few minutes later your phone buzzes again.

Sammy K: Let's get drinks soon?

You think about it for a minute before replying, weighing your options.

You: Sure, let me know. Tell Rose she was very brave on the flight.

Sammy K: Great I will! Also, she says thanks and that you smelled very nice.

You: Lol, did I? That’s very good to know. Goodnight Sam.

Sammy K: Yes, you did. Goodnight.

Hmm… What perfume did I wear today?

Replaying the plane ride in your mind, you slip off to sleep, finally in your own bed.

Lauren arrives in Nashville today, and you cannot wait to see her. It’s been months since you’ve been able to get together and this is the longest it has been so far. You still keep in touch almost everyday, you would definitely consider her your best friend. You met her in middle school and have been practically inseparable since. You had all of your firsts together, first boyfriends, first loves, first heartbreaks and everything in between. She was your comfort and you, hers.

As you pull up to baggage claim thoughts of the other day begin to flood your mind. You never heard from Sam again as expected, and it’s a relief honestly. Things were only bound to get messy otherwise. As you sit and wait you pull out your phone and turn on you and Lauren’s favorite song that you always sing first thing when you’re together. Just as you get it queued up you see her bounding out of the doors, her smiley fun personality bringing instant sunshine. A smile crosses your face as you get out of the car and open your trunk.

“Oh my gosh hiiiiiiii!” She squeals.

“Lala! I’m so glad to see you. I missed you so much!” You say pulling her into a tight hug. There is no better feeling than hugging your best friend.

You step back and grab her suitcase, throwing it into the trunk.

“Baby girl you are looking fiiiiine!” She says complimenting your new figure. You have been on an intense workout schedule, coupled with your new vegetarian eating habits, your hard work was definitely showing.

“Oh hush, you are just saying that….” You say pushing her shoulder.

“No, seriously. You look hot!” She says sliding into the front seat.

“Are you ready? I have it pulled up?” You ask.

“DUH! Hit it!” She says with a laugh.

You press play and you both start screaming the words to ‘Why Can’t I’ by Liz Phair.

“Whyyyy can't I breaaaathe whenever I think about youuuuu!” Lauren sings loudly, rolling the window down, letting the wind from the interstate blow through the car and add dramatic effect to her performance.

“You are nuts, and I love you.” You say to her through your laughter.

“What are we doing tonight? Let’s go out!” She says.

“We can! Where do you want to go?” You ask her.

“I don’t know, you tell me, you live here! Oh my god let's sing karaoke!” She screams.

“Oh god, okay… I guess that is kind of our thing…let me think. I think there is one place that does karaoke near my place.” You reply.

“This is gonna be so fun! I can't wait!” She bounces excitedly.

Once you arrive back to your place you help Lauren get settled and check social media to make sure that the bar you’re thinking of is doing karaoke tonight, and low and behold they are.

“Lauren, it looks like you’re in luck….” You call out to her.

“Are they doing it?!” she asks.

“Yep, it starts at 9:00” you reply.

“I guess we better think of some good ones!” She says.

“We always do!” You reply with a laugh.

She insists on both of you getting all glammed up and getting a few drinks before heading to karaoke. You decide on a black lace bodysuit that almost looks like it could be lingerie, a pair of light wash high-waisted jeans, and black heeled chelsea boots. Your hair hangs in loose waves down your back. Lauren, deciding on a short plum colored dress that reveals far too much of her cleavage and her long dark hair framing her face.

Your uber drops you off outside the bar and you both walk in and meet the glances of the people standing right inside the door. Lauren pushes her way through the crowd and makes her way to the bar, you following right after her.

“Hi two Jack and cokes please, both doubles!” She orders.

A few minutes pass while the drinks are made and you scan the room to see if you notice any familiar faces. Lauren taps your shoulder and hands you your drink as you walk away from the bar to find somewhere to stand, there is a band playing in the back and you both decide to go check them out, also finding out there is a way less crowded bar in the very back.

You listen to their set for a while, letting the alcohol work its way through your system. You love spending time with Lauren, she reminds you how to be carefree and have fun, something you don’t find yourself having much time for these days, especially alone in Nashville.

You both down another drink before realizing it's time to head to the other bar for karaoke time. You are so glad you have some alcohol in you now, it will make the singing part less intimidating.

“Hey, I am calling the Uber to take us to the other place. Do you need to close out?” You ask her.

“Oh yeah, let me go do that, I’ll meet you out front!” She says, waving you off.

As you make your way to the front someone steps in front of you, stopping you.

“Well well, how our paths cross again…” He says.

“Oh, hey Jimmy! I didn’t see you here when I walked in!” you say giving him a side hug.

“Yeah we were hanging out watching the bad in the back.” He says

“Oh so were we! I’m here with my friend Lauren. She’s visiting from out of town, so I am just showing her a night out on the town.”

“Are you guys heading out?” He asks.

“Yeah, we are heading over to Loco to do Karaoke…. Her request, not mine!” You laugh.

“Oh, I love Loco, maybe I will see you there later.” He says placing his hand on your arm, a warm shiver running up your arm.

“Maybe, see you later…” you say walking outside. You know he just wants to hook up again. Not that you aren’t willing, but it has made things at work less than comfortable.

You call the Uber and it's only a few minutes away.

Come on Lauren, get out here…

“I’m here, I’m here!!” She says giggling, clearly the alcohol has gotten to her.

The Uber pulls up and you get in the backseat, confirming your destination.

You both go over what song you want to sing first and then the rest of your list, if you make it that far.

You pull up and the bar looks way less crowded than the last, a welcome surprise. Less people to embarrass yourself in front of.

“Hey, let’s take it easy with the Jack and Cokes, I might switch to seltzers so I can make it through at least one song…” you laugh.

“Suit yourself sista, I’m going to put our name on the list!” She calls out.

You walk into the dimly lit bar and already you can hear someone singing their rendition of ‘Goodbye Yellow Brick Road’, and to be honest it's not half bad.

You approach the bar, and look at the selection board but it doesn’t list the seltzer options.

“Hi, what seltzers do you have tonight?” You ask.

“Hey sweetie, we have Bud Light, White Claw, Truly and Topo Chico!” The bartender replies.

“Oh, I’ll do a Lime Topo Chico if you’ve got it! Also a Jack and Coke.” You say hopefully.

“Sure, one second!” She replies with a smile.

Ahhh, you love this place.

You haven’t been here in a while, simply because you haven’t had anyone to go with, and no one likes to go drinking alone.

She slides you the drinks, popping the tab on the can. You grab both and head to find Lauren.

“Lala, I got you a drink, drink up, I feel like we will be up soon.” You laugh.

You cheers, clinking your can with her plastic cup and laugh. You sit down at an empty high top table, and watch the people slowly go up, one by one and sing their hearts out to familiar tunes. Two seltzers later, your body is feeling warm and your inhibitions have flown out the window.

“Alright, next up we have Lauren and company….”

You both set down your drinks and look at each other in shock that it's finally your turn.

You make your way up onto the little stage, each grabbing a microphone and waiting for the little TV screen to start counting out the intro. Suddenly the bar is filled with the sounds of “Head Over Heels” by Tears for Fears, ringing through the sound system. There are little overhead lights that are shining right on you, spotlighting you on the stage.

Lauren takes the first verse of the song as you laugh and join in for the chorus, you take the next verse and sing your heart out. You are both laughing, smiling and having the time of your life, thanks to copious amounts of alcohol.

‘Something happens and I’m head over heels, I never find out, till I’m head over heels, something happens and I’m head over heels, ah don’t take my heart, don’t break my heart don’t, don’t, don’t throw it away….’

Right as you finish the chorus, you see a familiar face in the crowd leaning against a table with his arms crossed, and a smirk on his face.

Sam?

All the blood rushes to your face, suddenly very embarrassed by your performance. You look at Lauren with wide eyes, and she keeps singing, not catching your non verbal cue. You finish the song which suddenly seems very long and repetitive, trying your hardest to not even look in his direction but you can't. You look and now he is joined by another smiling face, Danny.

Oh god kill me now…

They are both leaning into each other talking and laughing.

God, just wait until Lauren sees.

The song finishes and you quickly walk off the stage and straight back to your table downing the entirety of the rest of your drink.

“Lauren, I don’t want to alarm you but we…” you are cut off.

“Well, if it isn’t Lauren Tanner in my city…” Danny’s voice says from behind you.

You see Lauren's face go pale white and her eyes search yours questioningly, as you mouth, ‘I had no idea’.

“My city.” You reply smugly.

“Ours.” He says with a smile before turning to face Lauren, “How are you? I haven’t talked to you in years!

“Well hi, Danny…” she says shocked.

Soon you see Sam approaching the table, to stand next to Danny, his eyes fixed on you.

You look up to greet him and see a look in his eye that you cant quite place.

“Hi Sam,” You say.

He continues to stare at you for a second before you see his tongue dart out to wet his bottom lip.

“Hello again.” He answers.

“Hey Lala long time no see…” He smiles at her.

Lala? He can't call her that. That's my thing.

“Oh no one really calls me that anymore, just her” she says pointing to you.

“Got it, Lauren it is.” He says.

“Quite the performance up there ladies…” Danny laughs.

“Oh god, how embarrassing!” Lauren says, covering her face. “You heard that?”

“Yeah we actually walked in right as you two went up. Saw the whole thing.” Sam answers, looking over to you.

You roll your eyes and go to stand to get another drink.

“Do you need another, I can get it?” Sam offers.

“Yes, I do, but I can get it… wouldn’t want to wait around for you to come back…last time that happened you never did.” You say pointedly with a laugh.

“Oh ouch.” Danny laughs.

“Fair enough, I deserved that.” He smiles, “But really. I am going up there anyway. Same thing?”

You think for a second, a smirk crossing your face, “Alright fine.” You reply.

His hand pats your lower back and he turns to walk away.

Why do I suddenly feel like I’m on fire? He barely touched me.

You, Lauren and Danny continue to talk for a bit, everything from work, music, to old memories happy and sad.

You notice Lauren and Danny really leaning into each other, just exactly how you remember them to be, almost like no time had passed.

They were flirty in high school, dating briefly before breaking up for typical high school reasons. They were always drawn to each other and apparently that old flame never died. You remove yourself from their conversation and watch the karaoke singers on the stage, just as Sam is returning with drinks for everyone.

“For the lovely ladies…and Daniel.” He says setting down the drinks, however you notice someone behind him.

She makes eye contact with you and you smile. She pushes past Sam, who looks sick to his stomach. She extends her hand, “Hi, I’m Morgan, Sam’s girlfriend, nice to meet you!” She says.

Girlfriend… Oh. You read this situation so wrong.

“Hey nice to meet you! Do you want to sit?” You ask.

She nods her head and takes the barstool next to you.

“So how do you know Sam and Danny?” She asks.

“Oh, actually we went to high school together, I didn’t know that they even lived here until I saw them on my flight the other day.” You reply by taking a large sip of your drink.

“Oh you were the girl from the flight!” She says.

“Yep, I guess that's me!” You say giving Sam a strange look.

An awkward silence falls across the table and you quickly throw back the rest of your drink.

“Lauren, do you want to come with me to the bathroom real quick?” You ask her staring daggers into her, hoping she will get the message.

“Oh, uh sure! We will be right back.” She says.

You both stand and link arms walking to the bathroom.

“Oh my god, kill me now….” You say once out of earshot.

“I cannot believe how good they look.” She says.

“You’re telling me…. What are the odds they show up at this exact bar, right as we are singing.” You huff out.

Stepping into the bathroom, you quickly pee and wash your hands, as Lauren walks up next to you.

“Does Danny have a girlfriend?” She asks.

“Uh…. How would I know? I haven’t spoken more than like two sentences to them!” You reply.

She purses her lips and raises her eyebrows at you, “This isn’t high school anymore, huh…”

“LALA! You aren’t…” you say smacking her arm.

“I might.” She says flirty walking off.

As the door opens you walk down the little hallway and see Sam leaning up against the wall, immediately standing up taller when he sees you.

“Were… were you waiting for us?” You ask, seeing Lauren walk off without you.

“No, just you.” He says.

You raise your eyebrows in question.

“Your girlfriend seems nice…” you smile accusingly at him.

“Mmhmm…” he mumbles dismissively.

“Oh Sam, you never had a great track record did you…always someone waiting in the wings…” you reply harshly.

“Not true…I just know when I want something, and when I don’t.” He replies, looking over his shoulder.

Oh he is definitely flirting with you… and you like it.

“Well, don’t want to keep her waiting.” You say running your fingers across the top of his belt buckle lightly grazing the small patch of exposed skin on his stomach.

What the fuck did I do that for? God it was so soft...

He bites his cheek and follows you back to the table.

You make eye contact with Lauren, silently telling her that you just did something stupid.

Her and Danny are talking to Morgan, and Sam walks up to her, putting his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side. Her hand reaches up and intertwines with his fingers.

Instead of sitting you walk over to the bar and get another drink, this time liquor, you need it.

You also ask for a shot, and as you wait you feel someone walking up behind you, placing their hand on your waist, to pass by you.

You know that touch, you’d know it anywhere.

You snap your head around quickly, and sure enough, it's Sam, who has followed you to the bar.

“Quite the little stunt you pulled back there, right in front of everyone too. Very bold, maybe you have changed…” He says with a smirk.

“I told you, we are different people now Sam.” You reply.

"Well I am very intrigued by this new, you..." he says into your ear.

The bartender sets down your shot, and your drink and you grab the shot in your fingers and throw it back, swallowing down the whiskey.

“Shots, huh?” He asks, his hand sliding across your waist and down the curve of your hip, sending a shock through your body.

“Yep...” you say over annunciating the p and walking back to the table with your drink.

As you all continue to sit and talk for a while, you are happy that Lauren is having fun with Danny, who is all but pressed against her at this point. You and Sam have made suggestive glances at each other all night while you talk to Morgan, hoping that she hasn’t noticed.

This is so wrong, I have to stop. But so does he…

Suddenly you feel a hand on your shoulder, and turn around to see Jimmy.

“I thought I’d find you here.” He says smoothly.

“Hey! I didn’t know if you were coming or not!” You reply, standing to give him a side hug.

You see Sam swallow hard and his jaw tighten.

Oh is he… a little bit jealous?

You don’t even know why you care. He is just an old crush from high school that you just so happened to meet by chance on the plane…. And then again here tonight…now that you think of it, that is a little… serendipitous. Although he omitted the fact that he had a girlfriend...

“Did you guys already sing?!” Jimmy asks.

“Ahh, yes we did, the crowd went wild, and asked for our autograph and everything!” You say sarcastically.

“Ah, so sad I missed it, but it seems you must be the real deal if this is the company you keep?” He says, realizing who you’re with.

How does he know who they are?

“Hey man, how’s it going?” Danny asks, reaching to shake his hand.

“Hey, I’m Sam.” He says nodding his head and reaching out his hand.

You and Lauren roll your eyes at each other.

If only he knew these dweebs in high school…

“Hey do you want to dance? They are starting the music up front.” Jimmy asks you.

“I don’t know... Lauren, what do you think, should we go dance?” You ask her.

“Always! Danny?” She asks, and he is already helping her off the stool and letting her lead the way.

“Later.” You say, giving Sam a flirty look.

His eyes about bulge out of his head.

Two drinks and another hour later, you have been dancing and having the time of your life. You have pushed the thoughts of Sam from your mind and you are enjoying hanging out with Jimmy. You have seen his eyes on you multiple times, however.

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Sam and Morgan dancing together. Jimmy’s hands are on your waist, and Sam’s eyes are trained on them.

He breaks away from Morgan and walks over to Danny whispering something in his ear. Next thing you know you can see Danny talking to Lauren and Lauren then walking over to you.

“Hey, Danny and Sam are leaving, and I’m pretty tired too. Do you think we should go?” She asks.

Oh, nice Sam. He is definitely jealous.

“Yeah we can go, I’ll call an Uber.” You say.

Turning to face Jimmy you pull his head down and lean into his ear telling him that you have to get Lauren home and that you’ll see him on Monday. He looks disappointed but agrees.

He places a kiss on your cheek and you blush.

As you walk away you can see Sam biting the inside of his cheek, as Danny and Lauren walk outside together, arm in arm.

“Well our Uber is here. It was good to see you guys, and nice to meet you Morgan.” You say with a smile.

“I hope I can see you again before you leave…” you hear Danny talking to Lauren.

“I think I can convince her.” She replies.

You raise your eyebrows at her and she giggles.

Sam puts his arm around Morgan and nods at Danny.

“Bye, it was good to see you.” Danny says.

“Good to see you too Danny boy.” You say with a smile.

“Sam…” you say, giving him a nod and a suggestive look.

He mouths the word ‘later’, with a wink and they all walk away and you and Lauren get into your Uber.

Ok whatever…

20 minutes later you’re both giggling and drunkenly stumbling into your front door.

“Oh my gooodddddd, Danny is so hottttt” Lauren slurs.

“Okay, I’ll admit, he is looking a lot cuter since high school…” you laugh.

“He gave me his number… think I’m gonna text him.” She says.

“Wait until tomorrow… you’re drunk.” You giggle.

You walk to the kitchen and make two glasses of water and grab the Advil pulling out enough for the both of you.

“Okay, here’s a water and some Advil and I’ll see you in the morning.” You say kissing her on the forehead. “Love you and so glad you’re here.”

“Awwwww I love you toooooo” she croons.

You walk into your bedroom with your water and purse and throw it on the bed as you set the water on your nightstand. You quickly strip off your clothes and change into your pajamas.

After you remove your makeup and do your skin care, you tie up your hair and crawl into your bed, grabbing your phone out of your purse and plugging it into the charger. You throw your purse on the floor and turn off the lamp. You open your phone to turn off your alarm for the morning and see you have a text.

Sammy K: It’s later.

He just couldn’t help himself…

You: Is it?

Sammy K: What the hell was that?

You: What was what?

Sammy K: You know what.

You: Where’s Morgan, shouldn’t you be worried about her right now?

Sammy K: Are you jealous?

You: No.

Sammy K: Could’ve fooled me…

You: You had your shot with me Sam, and you were the one that seemed jealous…

Sammy K: Drinks.

You: We had drinks. Tonight.

Sammy K: No, just us. Alone.

You: I can't. You have a girlfriend.

Sammy K: Let me worry about that.

You know this is wrong. He has a girlfriend and she’s nice, but god if you don’t feel that same spark for him that you always have. You wonder if maybe he is feeling it too.

You: I could be convinced.

Sammy K: You will be. Goodnight gorgeous, talk soon.

Oh no, what have I just done?

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caffeineivore · 11 months ago

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The Witching Hour

Liminal Spaces, moments in time, beautiful and forlorn and uncanny.

R/J, PG13-ish?

The parking lot is lit by a single pole light that flickers erratically, and the neon sign reading "Vacancy" has both A's out. Jace usually isn't one for such Uncanny Valley trappings, but beggars can't be choosers at midnight and his low fuel light came on twenty miles ago.

It's a small motel in the middle of a small town in the middle of a lonely stretch of freeway in the middle of nowhere-- the type that some poor idiot in a horror movie would probably get gruesomely murdered in, but then again, he was hardly a nubile ingenue or a dumbass jock. He'd certainly stayed in worse places during a long stint as a UC in LA, and he thinks he'd take the tumbleweeds and the flickering neon over the seedy underbelly of the City of Fallen Angels anytime. He doesn't have much on him to attract the bad sort of attention anyway-- a lone man in worn jeans and a leather jacket that had seen better days, bearing an old duffel bag and dark gold five-o'-clock shadow, a few battered twenties in his wallet and an ankle holster that doesn't show as he walks.

The lobby is small, neat as a pin and almost inhumanly bright in the glare of harsh fluorescents as he comes in. A pair of tired-looking armchairs and a loveseat in faded red chenille, gunmetal-grey industrial carpeting. The front desk is shielded by a panel of reinforced glass and features a computer that looks positively ancient, but he does a double-take when he comes up to the counter. As a rule, night auditors at places of lodging are a bit unsociable, slightly Eldritch, with the uncanny factor increasing proportionate to the lateness of the hour and the remoteness and shabbiness of the location, and this specimen certainly had nothing ordinary about her, either. She looks up as he raises a hand to ring the service bell, holds his gaze in an unblinking violet stare for a moment too long, but it's her beauty that stops him in his tracks.

Fifteen years in Los Angeles has Jace all but immune to the countless number of meaningless beautiful faces all around him. A starlet's lush-lipped smile looks a lot less inviting two hours later in a rictus of drug-induced convulsions. Diamonds and bullets, champagne and smog, sunsets and blood-soaked asphalt. This woman could be twenty or a hundred, with an ageless face that he imagined angels would have if they were real-- the type of angels that smote a sinner with swords and fire, not the type that graced Hallmark cards and Victoria's Secret catalogues. Fathomless violet eyes, blood-red lips and a curtain of inky hair. "It's pretty late to be traveling, isn't it?"

"Absolutely, and I'm tired the hell out. Do you have a room for the night, and maybe a gas station close to here that opens sometime tomorrow morning, sweetheart?"

She cocks her head to the side rather like a bird might as it stares at a new street sign. "This isn't where you're supposed to be right now, but I won't begrudge you a night's rest and shelter," she says at length, almost to herself. She slides a tattered registration binder and an honest-to-God fountain pen across the desk, under the panel of glass, and her voice takes on a slightly brisker tone. "Name and address, please. That will be fifty dollars. Room 12, which will be six doors down, on the right. We don't have breakfast, but there's a cafe down the road next to the gas station, about five miles out. Check out is at ten."

"Thanks, love." His fingers brush hers for the briefest of moments as he takes the keys-- old fashioned metal ones, not plastic cards, and he would have expected her hands to be ghostly-cold. But they're warm and soft, like the glow of hearth fire behind a screen. He almost wants to give them a squeeze, but that would be creepy. He signs "Jacen Reinhardt" and puts down the address of an apartment that he'd not set foot in for the last two years, and slides three twenties across the table. "Keep the change. I'd've driven on, you know, but I can barely keep my eyes open, and I'm almost out of gas. You probably saved my life." He tacks that last part on with a wink that would have melted a model or a gun moll alike, but she simply continues to look at him with something that looks weirdly like silent absolution in those dark, mysterious eyes.

"I wish that were true," she murmurs, tipping her face downwards towards the registration binder as she puts it back in its drawer. "Rest well. You're safe here."

"I'll catch you tomorrow morning before you're off, doll. Sweet dreams."

He finds Room 12 without much difficulty, unlocks it with those old-fashioned keys. It's just as tidy as the lobby under the glow of the incandescent table lamp, with a single bed and heavy burgundy drapes over its windows, but the shower runs hot and the pillows are soft under his weary head. Jace is asleep almost as soon as he lies down, before he could even have taken any of the types of precautions he might have been accustomed to in the big city, but she's a woman of her word and he sleeps soundly and well. He dreams in flashes and fits that night, fleeting images that flit across his subconscious-- snow-white lilies, stark black ravens, fire that arrows across an eerie silver sky, the clash of swords and the crush of lovers' lips-- but nonetheless, the sun is high in the sky when he wakes from the best sleep that he's had in a long time.

One look on the old-fashioned analog alarm clock on the nightstand tells him that he has all of nineteen minutes to check out, and so Jace hurries into the lobby, raking one hand through his tousled blond hair, keys in hand, duffel bag slung over one shoulder, eyes peeled for that oil-slick of black hair. In daylight, it's a much-different place-- not cheery, perhaps, but pleasant. Almost welcoming. Ordinary. Manning the front desk is a perky redhead who cheerfully points him towards the direction of the gas station as she accepts the keys and wishes him safe travels.

"Thanks... Molly, is it?" He reads the name on the gilt nametag pinned on her blouse, and racks his brain for whether the woman last night had worn one. "This might be an odd question, but... who was here last night? The overnight lady."

"Oh, I don't know any of the others," Molly replies, furrowing her brow in a bewildered way. "I usually just miss her. I've just started here, you see, for a summer job. But I know she's been here for a long time. She's never here after daybreak. I work nine to five."

That is, of course, supremely unhelpful, but it's not something that he can fault her for. Jace coaxes his car into life and drives off into the sunshine, towards the very ordinary gas station and very ordinary cafe that likely serves very ordinary coffee and bacon and eggs that would fuel him until his next destination, and wonders if he's lost a night or a small eternity of his life that he just won't ever quite understand.

Strange things always happen during the witching hour, that's a given. But there's never been cause to wonder, before this, of lost time and liminal spaces that have never been his before, beautiful and forlorn and uncanny, of ghosts and angels when neither of those things were real.

(The other three will be put up on AO3 when I can be arsed to write them)

#fanfic #senshi/shitennou #writing #R/J

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chronicowboy · 2 years ago

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fuck it friday!!

okay everyone is going to have to blame @danielsousa for this because the parks and rec au is very much underway and she's already consuming me whole!!!

The day Buck finds out that the Los Angeles government is bordering on a full-blown budget crisis and the governor is sending two state auditors to gut every department, he ignores the pile of paperwork sitting on his desk and grabs the to-do list in his drawer. He's not stupid. If bankruptcy is on the horizon he knows there will be investigations and cuts and possibly a suspension of services. And as much as it fills him with a stone cold terror, the prospect of not seeing his friends and co-workers every single day, gossiping around the coffee machine with May, meeting Bobby's eyes through the windows of their offices, giggling with Hen at Ravi's newest idiom, it lights a fire under him.

If these are the last few days of the parks and recreation department as it is, Buck resolves to do everything he can to leave the green spots of the city thriving and greener than ever. So, he consults the steadily growing to-do list that was supposed to be outsourced to the correct departments, grabs his toolbox and pops into Bobby's office.

"Buck, I'm gonna need you to stay calm," Bobby says without looking up from his computer screen.

"I am calm," Buck replies calmly, serenely even. "I am, like, insanely calm about the fact that two state auditors are going to come into our little department, our little family, and start poking around. I am so zen about the fact that they're definitely here to slash and burn. And feeling like Hen during her yoga phase about the fact that they're definitely going to eliminate every service I bust my ass on providing for the kids." Buck takes a deep breath, unaware of when his chest started heaving, and meets Bobby's unimpressed stare. "See? Calm."

"Okay, Buck." Bobby sighs and turns to him fully with that dad look of his that makes Buck feel a little like a fifteen-year-old again. "We don't know what they're going to do yet, so I need you to stop the spiral."

"I'm not spiralling," Buck grits out even though he most definitely is. Or, well, it might not even be a spiral anymore. Just a fucking catastrophic squiggle done with so much vigour and violence that the ink tears the paper. Okay, he's lost track of the metaphor. "I just think we need to be prepared to fight them."

"They've been sent by the governor." Bobby sends him a look that's way too understanding for the hysterical knife-edge he's been balancing on since this morning's meeting. "They outrank all of us. We can't fight them."

"Okay, but I'm definitely still going to fight them," Buck says earnestly. Bobby sighs again before he glances inquisitively at the toolbox Buck has a white-knuckled grip on. "Battle number one," he clarifies. "Want to come and help me fix up the death trap at La Cienega?" Bobby's eyes go soft around the edges, something like pride lining the creases of his smile, and Buck's chest tightens.

"Sure, kid. Let's go."

will tag a few people but please let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist for this one!! @gracelcdomas @diazass @diazly @poughkeepsies @butchdiaz @shitouttabuck

#sami rambles #buck and leslie golden retriever squared is already so special to me #but i haven't even written a ben eddie saddest wettest most pathetic cat alive yet and he's already got me in a chokehold #fuck it friday #wip #the parks and rec au #911 fic #buddie fic

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drawpaintwritemakethings · 2 months ago

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library card art set, action and plastics

Four ink and wash paintings on vintage library cards.

Each card is 3 x 5 inches and attractively packaged for gift giving, in a clear sleeve with a decorative card top.

Library sign-out cards only remain as curiosity items — relics still occasionally found in the back pocket of library books. I take these vintage, obsolete cards and repurpose them as art, making ink paintings that work in concert with the signatures, stamps and marks the cards have acquired over their history and service.

The titles of these four cards are …

Twelve Men of Action by Arnold Joseph Toynbee (1952) The Military Interpreter by R. Dubuis (1954) Statistical Methods in Structural Mechanics by Vladimir Vasilevich Bolotin (1969) Plastic Theory of Structures by Michael Rena Horne (1972)

Library card artworks are fantastic bookmarks (they have an incredible durability), and absolutely shine when framed. They also make great gifts — just tuck one into a Christmas or other greeting card and suddenly you’re sending your friend or relative some original artwork for the cost of a stamp.

The artwork is wholly original, done freehand, directly onto the cards, in ink and wash.

Every order comes with an extra art surprise.

Dreams pass into the reality of action. From the actions stems the dream again; and this interdependence produces the highest form of living. — Anais Nin

All human actions are equivalent and all are on principle doomed to failure. — Jean-Paul Sartre

I love Los Angeles, and I love Hollywood. They're beautiful. Everybody's plastic, but I love plastic. I want to be plastic. — Andy Warhol

Buy from people, not from corporations. And buy things that are made by human hands, not computers.

Escape the dreaming planet ... give the gift of original art.

SAVE OUR LIBRARIES

#art #artwork #artists on tumblr #painting #drawing #library #library card #library card art #bookmark

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ncisfranchise-source · 2 months ago

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As humans in a changing world we crave continuity, reliability. Before we walk into a room, we like to be fairly certain of what we’ll find — walls, floor, furniture, not hot coals or clouds of poison gas. Thus the popularity of the franchise. It may not lead to great, revolutionary art, but at the end of a long day, when you kick off your shoes and sink down into the sofa, you may not be in the mood for “Les Demoiselles d’Avignon” or a stuffed goat with a tire around its middle.

“NCIS,” for Naval Criminal Investigative Service, is a theoretically inexhaustible series about an elevated team of military police investigating cases involving military personnel; you might think that is too shallow a drawer to fill several series over many years, but you would be wrong, especially given how thin the writers are willing to stretch that connection.

The series offers a full-course meal of mainstream theatrical possibilities. It’s a police procedural, a metaphorical family comedy, a workplace comedy, a soap opera, a melodrama, a low-budget action adventure. You get good-looking heroes, a smattering of goofballs, a quirky medical examiner or two, a little romance — the amino acids of many such procedurals, to be sure, but “NCIS” is especially deft at combining kick-back entertainment with lean-forward tension. The military association adds a patriotic element, which I imagine some viewers prize, though the very premise of the series implies that the military is not squeaky clean. These aren’t shows I customarily watch, but it’s easy to see why people do.

The franchise has included iterations set in Los Angeles, New Orleans, Hawaii and Sydney, each applying local color and flavor to a tried-and-true formula; some have come and gone, some have not been around long enough to go, but none is likely to display the staying power or global penetration of the original, about to embark Monday on its 22nd season.

Following that premiere on CBS, home to all “NCIS” series, is the newest addition to the family, “NCIS: Origins.” Instead of setting up in a new city, however, we are being sent through time, back to 1991, when “newly minted special agent” Leroy Jethro Gibbs (Austin Stowell), played by Mark Harmon in the original and narrating here, has just joined the team he will one day lead. (A team that has not yet added the C to its acronym, which looks odd on the windbreakers but is quicker to bark at suspects.)

We are in Oceanside — a new city, after all — on the grounds of Camp Pendleton. That it’s the least obviously sexy setting in the “NCIS” collection — no offense, Oceanside, not to say the ocean itself — is echoed in the team’s drab Quonset-hut headquarters, a stark contrast to the bright, modern, high-tech lairs of the contemporary shows. Here, we’re in a world of phone booths, pagers and bulky computers no one knows how to work, of Walkmans and videotape, which both simplifies and complicates the action. It is, in its way, a kind of relief, a vacation from Now.

Harmon, who left the series after the 19th season to be replaced by Gary Cole, established the model of the “NCIS” team leader — the stern yet supportive surrogate parent, time-worn, time-tested, ever ready to buck hidebound authority when necessary. Young Gibbs, a Marine sniper just recalled from Iraq after the murder of his wife and child, is not (yet) that person, though we get some hints he might be: his numbered “rules,” his “gut feelings.” At the moment, he’s neck-deep in trauma, getting in bar fights, failing his “psych eval.” There is some concern that he’s unstable, not quite Mel-Gibson-in-“Lethal Weapon” crazy, but potentially a danger to himself and others.

That the main character is a member of the team rather than its leader, as in other “NCIS” series, can feel a little awkward, given that it’s necessary for Gibbs, fresh behind the ears though he may be, to stand out from the group — that he see what others miss, and can handle a situation in an original way. When he says of a suspect, “He’s not our guy,” it won’t be that guy. It throws the ensemble off balance.

The team leader is Mike Franks (Kyle Schmid), Gibbs’ cowboy predecessor and mentor; with his horseshoe mustache, dark glasses and cigarettes, he’s like a ’90s cop dressed as a ’70s cop. (Older Franks, played by Muse Watson, appeared in some dramatic episodes of “NCIS.”) Hot-shot agent Lala Dominguez (Mariel Molino) is competitive and wary of Gibbs. (“You’re on my squad,” says Gibbs upon meeting her. “No, you’re on mine,” she replies, reasonably enough.) Agent Vera Strickland (Diany Rodriguez), who briefly appeared in the original series, is so far underused. (Only four episodes were available for review.)

Dark feelings and internal conflicts characterize these first episodes, which are full of raised voices, clenched jaws and steely stares. Necessary mood lightening is supplied by agent Randy Randolf (Caleb Martin Foote), friendly, chatty and the only one who wears a suit to work; “head secretary in charge” Mary Jo Hayes (Tyla Abercrumbie); and Granville “Granny” Dawson (Daniel Bellomy), promoted after a couple of episodes to the K-9 squad and the care of a dog named Special Agent Gary Callahan. (“It’s just the one dog, but he’s all the dog you need.”) Bobby Moynihan (major comic relief), Lori Petty and Julian Black Antelope provide forensic backup.

As to Stowell, he is square-jawed and broad-shouldered and though his casting was obviously the end of many discussions, he does not strike me as someone who will grow up to become Mark Harmon. (Harmon’s son Sean, who had the original idea for “Origins,” developed by franchise vets David J. North and Gina Lucita Monreal, played the younger Gibbs in “NCIS” flashbacks.) He could stand to relax a little. But perhaps that’s the point.

#ncis origins

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tocitynews · 5 months ago

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A Widespread Microsoft Outage Disrupted Flights, Banks, Media Outlets And Companies Around The World On Friday And Highlighted Dependence On Software From A Handful Of Providers – New York City reporting

The issue affected Microsoft 365 apps and services, and escalating disruptions continued hours after the technology company said it was gradually fixing it.

Microsoft 365 posted on X that the company was “working on rerouting the impacted traffic to alternate systems to alleviate impact in a more expedient fashion” and that they were “observing a positive trend in service availability.”

Major disruptions reported by airlines and airports grew. Flight tracking website Flightaware reports more nearly 1,000 flights canceled and over 12,000 more are delayed. Chicago O'Hare, Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta, Newark , La Guardia and Boston Logan International Airport lead Flightaware's "misery map" with the most delays and cancellations.

In the U.S., the FAA said the airlines United, Delta and Allegiant had all been grounded. American Airlines lifted its ground stop just after 5 a.m ET, saying they were able to "safely re-establish operations."

An earlier ground stop for Frontier Airlines was lifted just after midnight, and the carrier said they had resumed normal operations, for now.

Travelers at Los Angeles International Airport slept on a jetway floor, using backpacks and other luggage for pillows, due to a delayed United flight to Dulles International Airport early on Friday.

Across the pond, Edinburgh Airport said the system outage meant waiting times were longer than usual. London’s Stansted Airport said some airline check-in services were being completed manually, but flights were still operating.

The budget airline Ryanair said they are "experiencing disruption across the network due to a global third party IT outage which is out of our control. We advise all passengers to arrive at the airport at least three hours before their scheduled departure time.”

Widespread problems were reported at Australian airports, where lines grew and some passengers were stranded as online check-in services and self-service booths were disabled. Passengers in Melbourne queued for more than an hour to check in, although flights were still operating. Airlines Virgin Australia and Qantas were severely affected by the outage.

News outlets in Australia — including the ABC and Sky News — were unable to broadcast on their TV and radio channels, and reported sudden shutdowns of Windows-based computers. Some news anchors broadcast live online from dark offices, in front of computers showing “blue screens of death.” Telecommunications providers, banks and media broadcasters were also disrupted as they lost access to computer systems. Outages reported on the site DownDetector included the banks NAB, Commonwealth and Bendigo, as well as internet and phone providers such as Telstra. The New Zealand banks ASB and Kiwibank said their services were down.

Television stations in the United Kingdom were being disrupted by the computer issues.

Hospitals in Britain and Germany also reported problems.

Israel’s Cyber Directorate said that it was among the places affected by the global outages, attributing them to a problem with the cybersecurity platform Crowdstrike. The outage also hit the country’s post offices and hospitals, according to the ministries of communication and health.

In South Africa, at least one major bank said it was experiencing “nationwide service disruptions” as customers reported they were unable to make payments using their bank cards at grocery stores and gas stations.

Numerous European airlines are using manual check-in.

#microsoft #System breakdown

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not-that-dillinger · 9 months ago

Note

CHANGED for a scene from my muse's past that represented a turning point in their life

It's early in the evening, and the weather was cool for January in Los Angeles, though it feelt more like summer compared to the weather he became used to in Pittsburgh. Christmas break is quickly coming to an end, and though Ed still dreaded the cold and the snow, he couldn't wait to go back to school and be away from home and his father again. If his father's mansion of a house could ever be considered a home when Pittsburgh at it's coldest was warmer than the oppressive walls of his father's house.

Ed wasn't even sure why his father demanded he return every year for the holiday season. They didn't celebrate Christmas like his Grandparents had taken to doing, and it's been even longer since the Dillingers celebrated Chanukah, sans the few years his mother did. The only possible reason for Ed's return was to keep up appearances of that perfect family that they had never truly been.

Ed looked up from the code he'd been tracing in an attempt to debug, and across the living room to where his father was sitting in his polished black leather armchair, reading a report for his company.

"Father." Slowly, gently, Ed closed his laptop and gripped the edges of the machine so he wouldn't dig his nails into the fancy leather couch he was sitting on. He'd put off this conversation as long as he could, but unless he wanted to have it over the phone when he was back in Pittsburgh, now was his last chance.

Having this particular conversation over the phone when they two thousand miles apart would have been the smart thing to do, if it didn't feel like the coward's way out.

For a brief moment, there was stillness, and Ed hoped his father hadn't heard him.

His father looked up from the report, and across the expanse of the living room that seemed to dwarf both men to Ed.

Ed licked his dry lips, and took a sip of his sleepytime tea. It was the cheap kind bought at the grocery store and squashed into his suitcase. He didn't dare bring his usual stash of better tea, in the event that his father decided to throw it out.

"What do you want?" His father asked, becoming impatient at the interruption.

"There is something I must tell you." It took all of Ed's acting training to keep his voice clear and not to mumble. He gripped the edges of his computer, nails scratching against the metallic casing.

His father was silent, though from the look he was giving him, Ed knew if he didn't get on with it quickly, he would only irritate his father further.

"I applied an internship with Encom in October," he said.

His father raised an eyebrow.

"I had an interview for it in November, over the break. They offered me the internship, and I accepted."

Ed's father eyed him silently, and Ed sat perfectly still, hyper aware of every muscle in his body coiled with tension, and focusing on not fidgeting with his glasses.

"I see," his father said.

Ed waited. He knew there would be no congratulations, not when he applied to his father's company's largest competitor.

"You want the stipend I offered in compensation for... your services." Of course, Ed knew his father employed corporate spies to keep tabs on all of fCon's competitors, which was why he had to have this conversation with his father at all.

"No."

"You want more?" His father asked. "Surely you don't think they'll trust an intern with any sensitive data?"

"No."

"Then--"

"I am telling you so you understand why I refuse to tell you what I am working on this summer. And as a courtesy so you won't be surprised when your spy reports back to you that I am working there, and as a warning that I will report him if I discover who your spy is."

Ed's father eyed him, a slight frown on his face, and Ed held still. He didn't dare twitch a muscle, despite wanting to hug his laptop to his chest.

"So this is how you choose to repay me," his father said. "I put a roof over your head, put clothes on your back, I payed for your education, and you repay me with betrayal?"

"I--"

"--You are a worthless waste of resources," his father snarled. He stood up, and crossed the living room toward Ed.

Ed hugged his computer to his chest, putting his feet on the couch and curling protectively around it.

The older Dillinger picked up Ed's notebook, and tore out the first sheet, then the next, and the next. Ed didn't dare move, didn't dare dare protest as he watched his father tear out every page of the notebook. When there was nothing left but the covers, he took the stack of pages, and ripped them in half. He ripped the halves in half, over and over, and over until they were surrounded by shreds of paper no bigger than the size of Ed's pinky nail.

Finally, Ed's father picked up Ed's mug, and retreated to the kitchen. He made a show of pouring the the tea down the sink. "For the summer only," he said. "Next year, I will send you an application for a position at fCon. You will apply, and you will accept whatever offer you are given. Understood?"

"Yes, father," Ed responded mechanically, his voice cold and devoid of feeling.

"Good. Now go to bed. Peter will be here to take you to the airport in the morning."

"Yes father." Just as mechanically, Ed stood up, and climbed the stairs to his room.

It would be a long time before he actually slept if he wanted to catch up on his work.

#the void screams back #thanks for the ask!#the-expatriate #edcanons

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twofoursixd · 1 year ago

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* mason gooding + he , him + cis man – have you seen sullivan ‘jaws’ johanssen around los angeles? the twenty6 year old is usually jamming to big poppa by notorious big. word around the city is that they’re steadfast, yet, they can also be severe, but you didn’t hear that from me. they’re currently a head of personal security / bodyguard and are typically seen walking the streets of los angeles with a pair of vintage raybans obscuring his hard gaze. when i think of them, i think of oversized hoodies hiding a powerful frame , semi-permanent bags beneath your watchful eyes , & minding your business ( until it becomes your business ) . let’s hope the city treats them good!

𝟎𝟎𝟏. 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐒 :

𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 : sullivan ‘jaws’ johanssen

𝘢𝘨𝘦 : twenty - six

𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘯 : cape town , south africa

𝘰𝘤𝘤𝘶𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 : former drug dealer , former club bouncer , current security detail .

𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘲𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘴 : + steadfast , modest , focused - troubled , severe , non-committal

𝘩𝘰𝘨𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 : hufflepuff

𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 : lawful neutral

𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 : 6′2

𝟎𝟎𝟐. 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐁𝐈𝐎 :

jaws was born in cape town and spent his entire upbringing there . he had a big family and they scraped by on the bare minimum so he’s rather grateful for that upbringing .

moved to the us for university , played rugby and thought he was going to make it big until a dirty tackle shredded his shoulder . thinking he wouldn’t get by on academics alone , he started selling drugs to the rich kids to supplement his income .

he went to texas a&m for computer engineering until he was kicked out his sophomore year during a frat party bust where he was caught dealing coke . he narrowly escaped jail time but was forced to fend for himself and figure out some way to make ends meet after deciding college was just a waste of time .

still retaining a rugby build and with an imposing energy about him , he made a living as a bouncer at a local hot - button luxury club . it was the nicest place in fort worth , but the hedonism and rich kid energy fueled dallas’ distaste for the bravado these people put on .

parties begin to request his presence specifically , noting that the other vip bouncers tend to act weird around them or sellout their location to the paparazzi . before he knows it , jaws is head of security , eventually being shipped out to LA to set up a second location of this club with an even bigger star list .

he eventually leaves night life in order to pursue the more lucrative business of private security . he's loyal , neutral , and minds his business , so old money families start to spread word of the quality of his services and before he knows it , he's a celebrity bodyguard and security planner for several big names in the los angeles area .

𝟎𝟎𝟑. 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘

jaws is known for being something of a mystery , though those closest to him argue they can see right through him . he’s quiet and reserved mostly due to his tendency to watch what goes on around him — he’s always seeing , always thinking , and always calculating how to make his next move for the hustle . he keeps to himself and his crew and is generally quiet in most new situations

when he’s comfortable , he becomes a harbinger of mischief . he enjoys chill nights in spent smoking and roasting his friends in good fun . he’s levelheaded and astute and finds the most fun in minding his own business , often calling out the stupidity of the world around him with minimal filter once provoked . though warm and protective , jaws won’t hesitate to put someone in their place if he’s really been fed up with their stupidity

when he’s not focusing on work , roasting people to bits or high as a kite , jaws is mellow and gentle as a teddy bear . he feels his emotions incredibly deeply and is known for being as honest of a person as they come . he can be possessive to an extent and won’t hesitate to call out or even swing when needed to protect someone in his circle .

#california.intro #* 𝙟𝙖𝙬𝙨 ; intro .

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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year ago

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Podcasting "How To Think About Scraping"

On September 27, I'll be at Chevalier's Books in Los Angeles with Brian Merchant for a joint launch for my new book The Internet Con and his new book, Blood in the Machine. On October 2, I'll be in Boise to host an event with VE Schwab.

This week on my podcast, I read my recent Medium column, "How To Think About Scraping: In privacy and labor fights, copyright is a clumsy tool at best," which proposes ways to retain the benefits of scraping without the privacy and labor harms that sometimes accompany it:

https://doctorow.medium.com/how-to-think-about-scraping-2db6f69a7e3d?sk=4a1d687171de1a3f3751433bffbb5a96

What are those benefits from scraping? Well, take computational linguistics, a relatively new discipline that is producing the first accounts of how informal language works. Historically, linguists overstudied written language (because it was easy to analyze) and underanalyzed speech (because you had to record speakers and then get grad students to transcribe their dialog).

The thing is, very few of us produce formal, written work, whereas we all engage in casual dialog. But then the internet came along, and for the first time, we had a species of mass-scale, informal dialog that also written, and which was born in machine-readable form.

This ushered in a new era in linguistic study, one that is enthusiastically analyzing and codifying the rules of informal speech, the spread of vernacular, and the regional, racial and class markers of different kinds of speech:

https://memex.craphound.com/2019/07/24/because-internet-the-new-linguistics-of-informal-english/

The people whose speech is scraped and analyzed this way are often unreachable (anonymous or pseudonymous) or impractical to reach (because there's millions of them). The linguists who study this speech will go through institutional review board approvals to make sure that as they produce aggregate accounts of speech, they don't compromise the privacy or integrity of their subjects.

Computational linguistics is an unalloyed good, and while the speakers whose words are scraped to produce the raw material that these scholars study, they probably wouldn't object, either.

But what about entities that explicitly object to being scraped? Sometimes, it's good to scrape them, too.

Since 1996, the Internet Archive has scraped every website it could find, storing snapshots of every page it found in a giant, searchable database called the Wayback Machine. Many of us have used the Wayback Machine to retrieve some long-deleted text, sound, image or video from the internet's memory hole.

For the most part, the Internet Archive limits its scraping to websites that permit it. The robots exclusion protocol (AKA robots.txt) makes it easy for webmasters to tell different kinds of crawlers whether or not they are welcome. If your site has a robots.txt file that tells the Archive's crawler to buzz off, it'll go elsewhere.

Mostly.

Since 2017, the Archive has started ignoring robots.txt files for news services; whether or not the news site wants to be crawled, the Archive crawls it and makes copies of the different versions of the articles the site publishes. That's because news sites – even the so-called "paper of record" – have a nasty habit of making sweeping edits to published material without noting it.

I'm not talking about fixing a typo or a formatting error: I'm talking about making a massive change to a piece, one that completely reverses its meaning, and pretending that it was that way all along:

https://medium.com/@brokenravioli/proof-that-the-new-york-times-isn-t-feeling-the-bern-c74e1109cdf6

This happens all the time, with major news sites from all around the world:

http://newsdiffs.org/examples/

By scraping these sites and retaining the different versions of their article, the Archive both detects and prevents journalistic malpractice. This is canonical fair use, the kind of copying that almost always involves overriding the objections of the site's proprietor. Not all adversarial scraping is good, but this sure is.

There's an argument that scraping the news-sites without permission might piss them off, but it doesn't bring them any real harm. But even when scraping harms the scrapee, it is sometimes legitimate – and necessary.

Austrian technologist Mario Zechner used the API from country's super-concentrated grocery giants to prove that they were colluding to rig prices. By assembling a longitudinal data-set, Zechner exposed the raft of dirty tricks the grocers used to rip off the people of Austria.

From shrinkflation to deceptive price-cycling that disguised price hikes as discounts:

https://mastodon.gamedev.place/@badlogic/111071627182734180

Zechner feared publishing his results at first. The companies whose thefts he'd discovered have enormous power and whole kennelsful of vicious attack-lawyers they can sic on him. But he eventually got the Austrian competition bureaucracy interested in his work, and they published a report that validated his claims and praised his work:

https://mastodon.gamedev.place/@badlogic/111071673594791946

Emboldened, Zechner open-sourced his monitoring tool, and attracted developers from other countries. Soon, they were documenting ripoffs in Germany and Slovenia, too:

https://mastodon.gamedev.place/@badlogic/111071485142332765

Zechner's on a roll, but the grocery cartel could shut him down with a keystroke, simply by blocking his API access. If they do, Zechner could switch to scraping their sites – but only if he can be protected from legal liability for nonconsensually scraping commercially sensitive data in a way that undermines the profits of a powerful corporation.

Zechner's work comes at a crucial time, as grocers around the world turn the screws on both their suppliers and their customers, disguising their greedflation as inflation. In Canada, the grocery cartel – led by the guillotine-friendly hereditary grocery monopolilst Galen Weston – pulled the most Les Mis-ass caper imaginable when they illegally conspired to rig the price of bread:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bread_price-fixing_in_Canada

We should scrape all of these looting bastards, even though it will harm their economic interests. We should scrape them because it will harm their economic interests. Scrape 'em and scrape 'em and scrape 'em.

Now, it's one thing to scrape text for scholarly purposes, or for journalistic accountability, or to uncover criminal corporate conspiracies. But what about scraping to train a Large Language Model?

Yes, there are socially beneficial – even vital – uses for LLMs.

Take HRDAG's work on truth and reconciliation in Colombia. The Human Rights Data Analysis Group is a tiny nonprofit that makes an outsized contribution to human rights, by using statistical methods to reveal the full scope of the human rights crimes that take place in the shadows, from East Timor to Serbia, South Africa to the USA:

https://hrdag.org/

HRDAG's latest project is its most ambitious yet. Working with partner org Dejusticia, they've just released the largest data-set in human rights history:

https://hrdag.org/jep-cev-colombia/

What's in that dataset? It's a merger and analysis of more than 100 databases of killings, child soldier recruitments and other crimes during the Colombian civil war. Using a LLM, HRDAG was able to produce an analysis of each killing in each database, estimating the probability that it appeared in more than one database, and the probability that it was carried out by a right-wing militia, by government forces, or by FARC guerrillas.

This work forms the core of ongoing Colombian Truth and Reconciliation proceedings, and has been instrumental in demonstrating that the majority of war crimes were carried out by right-wing militias who operated with the direction and knowledge of the richest, most powerful people in the country. It also showed that the majority of child soldier recruitment was carried out by these CIA-backed, US-funded militias.

This is important work, and it was carried out at a scale and with a precision that would have been impossible without an LLM. As with all of HRDAG's work, this report and the subsequent testimony draw on cutting-edge statistical techniques and skilled science communication to bring technical rigor to some of the most important justice questions in our world.

LLMs need large bodies of text to train them – text that, inevitably, is scraped. Scraping to produce LLMs isn't intrinsically harmful, and neither are LLMs. Admittedly, nonprofits using LLMs to build war crimes databases do not justify even 0.0001% of the valuations that AI hypesters ascribe to the field, but that's their problem.

Scraping is good, sometimes – even when it's done against the wishes of the scraped, even when it harms their interests, and even when it's used to train an LLM.

But.

Scraping to violate peoples' privacy is very bad. Take Clearview AI, the grifty, sleazy facial recognition company that scraped billions of photos in order to train a system that they sell to cops, corporations and authoritarian governments:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/20/steal-your-face/#hoan-ton-that

Likewise: scraping to alienate creative workers' labor is very bad. Creators' bosses are ferociously committed to firing us all and replacing us with "generative AI." Like all self-declared "job creators," they constantly fantasize about destroying all of our jobs. Like all capitalists, they hate capitalism, and dream of earning rents from owning things, not from doing things.

The work these AI tools sucks, but that doesn't mean our bosses won't try to fire us and replace us with them. After all, prompting an LLM may produce bad screenplays, but at least the LLM doesn't give you lip when you order to it give you "ET, but the hero is a dog, and there's a love story in the second act and a big shootout in the climax." Studio execs already talk to screenwriters like they're LLMs.

That's true of art directors, newspaper owners, and all the other job-destroyers who can't believe that creative workers want to have a say in the work they do – and worse, get paid for it.

So how do we resolve these conundra? After all, the people who scrape in disgusting, depraved ways insist that we have to take the good with the bad. If you want accountability for newspaper sites, you have to tolerate facial recognition, too.

When critics of these companies repeat these claims, they are doing the companies' work for them. It's not true. There's no reason we couldn't permit scraping for one purpose and ban it for another.

The problem comes when you try to use copyright to manage this nuance. Copyright is a terrible tool for sorting out these uses; the limitations and exceptions to copyright (like fair use) are broad and varied, but so "fact intensive" that it's nearly impossible to say whether a use is or isn't fair before you've gone to court to defend it.

But copyright has become the de facto regulatory default for the internet. When I found someone impersonating me on a dating site and luring people out to dates, the site advised me to make a copyright claim over the profile photo – that was their only tool for dealing with this potentially dangerous behavior.

The reasons that copyright has become our default tool for solving every internet problem are complex and historically contingent, but one important point here is that copyright is alienable, which means you can bargain it away. For that reason, corporations love copyright, because it means that they can force people who have less power than the company to sign away their copyrights.

This is how we got to a place where, after 40 years of expanding copyright (scope, duration, penalties), we have an entertainment sector that's larger and more profitable than ever, even as creative workers' share of the revenues their copyrights generate has fallen, both proportionally and in real terms.

As Rebecca Giblin and I write in our book Chokepoint Capitalism, in a market with five giant publishers, four studios, three labels, two app platforms and one ebook/audiobook company, giving creative workers more copyright is like giving your bullied kid extra lunch money. The more money you give that kid, the more money the bullies will take:

https://chokepointcapitalism.com/

Many creative workers are suing the AI companies for copyright infringement for scraping their data and using it to train a model. If those cases go to trial, it's likely the creators will lose. The questions of whether making temporary copies or subjecting them to mathematical analysis infringe copyright are well-settled:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2023/04/ai-art-generators-and-online-image-market

I'm pretty sure that the lawyers who organized these cases know this, and they're betting that the AI companies did so much sleazy shit while scraping that they'll settle rather than go to court and have it all come out. Which is fine – I relish the thought of hundreds of millions in investor capital being transferred from these giant AI companies to creative workers. But it doesn't actually solve the problem.

Because if we do end up changing copyright law – or the daily practice of the copyright sector – to create exclusive rights over scraping and training, it's not going to get creators paid. If we give individual creators new rights to bargain with, we're just giving them new rights to bargain away. That's already happening: voice actors who record for video games are now required to start their sessions by stating that they assign the rights to use their voice to train a deepfake model:

https://www.vice.com/en/article/5d37za/voice-actors-sign-away-rights-to-artificial-intelligence

But that doesn't mean we have to let the hyperconcentrated entertainment sector alienate creative workers from their labor. As the WGA has shown us, creative workers aren't just LLCs with MFAs, bargaining business-to-business with corporations – they're workers:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/20/everything-made-by-an-ai-is-in-the-public-domain/

Workers get a better deal with labor law, not copyright law. Copyright law can augment certain labor disputes, but just as often, it benefits corporations, not workers:

https://locusmag.com/2019/05/cory-doctorow-steering-with-the-windshield-wipers/

Likewise, the problem with Clearview AI isn't that it infringes on photographers' copyrights. If I took a thousand pictures of you and sold them to Clearview AI to train its model, no copyright infringement would take place – and you'd still be screwed. Clearview has a privacy problem, not a copyright problem.

Giving us pseudocopyrights over our faces won't stop Clearview and its competitors from destroying our lives. Creating and enforcing a federal privacy law with a private right action will. It will put Clearview and all of its competitors out of business, instantly and forever:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/01/you-should-have-right-sue-companies-violate-your-privacy

AI companies say, "You can't use copyright to fix the problems with AI without creating a lot of collateral damage." They're right. But what they fail to mention is, "You can use labor law to ban certain uses of AI without creating that collateral damage."

Facial recognition companies say, "You can't use copyright to ban scraping without creating a lot of collateral damage." They're right too – but what they don't say is, "On the other hand, a privacy law would put us out of business and leave all the good scraping intact."

Taking entertainment companies and AI vendors and facial recognition creeps at their word is helping them. It's letting them divide and conquer people who value the beneficial elements and those who can't tolerate the harms. We can have the benefits without the harms. We just have to stop thinking about labor and privacy issues as individual matters and treat them as the collective endeavors they really are:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/26/united-we-stand/

Here's a link to the podcast:

https://craphound.com/news/2023/09/24/how-to-think-about-scraping/

And here's a direct link to the MP3 (hosting courtesy of the Internet Archive; they'll host your stuff for free, forever):

https://archive.org/download/Cory_Doctorow_Podcast_450/Cory_Doctorow_Podcast_450_-_How_To_Think_About_Scraping.mp3

And here's the RSS feed for my podcast:

http://feeds.feedburner.com/doctorow_podcast

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

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/25/deep-scrape/#steering-with-the-windshield-wipers

Image: syvwlch (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Print_Scraper_(5856642549).jpg

CC BY-SA 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en

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