#Weekend Australian Magazine | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

myhughniverse · 6 months ago

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The Australian - via social media - "Riding a career high, ‘Min’ (as her mates call her) has proven she’s still got what it takes. In her fifth act, the tiny singer has finally made it big in America. How did she do it?"

#Kylie Minogue #Weekend Australian Magazine #The Australian #The One and Only Kylie

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kylieforeverandever · 6 months ago

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#kylie minogue #magazine photoshoot #cover photo #princess of pop #magazine cover #pop icon #the weekend australian #looking gorgeous #the one and only kylie

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maxlarens · 5 months ago

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hello jack doohan lovers. pls excuse any weird characterisation etc, i’ve never written jack before and am writing this because @coff33andb00ks gave me brain worms about this idea for jack x oscar’s childhood bsf!reader:

Oscar’s your friend. Your oldest friend in fact.

Which is to say you’re proud of him and his big boy job as a Formula One driver. And, of course, you’re endlessly grateful for the opportunity to follow him around the world in return for your services as his social media lackey. It’s a job you enjoy even. Which is not to say that you’ve got any kind of ulterior motive to show up on race weekends—

Nope. None at all!

It’s certainly got nothing at all to do with the fellow Australian Flynn Rider-lookalike that hangs around Alpine hospitality. Nothing whatsoever.

Jack Doohan isn’t even on your radar. And you certainly don’t keep an eye out for a flash of warm brown hair or that Roman nose of his. The familiar Australian accent in a crowd, grey-blue eyes shining in the sun, the tooth that often catches on his bottom lip—

No. You don’t pay attention to Jack Doohan at all.

Well, at least not as far as Oscar is concerned.

Cootie-ridden, annoying, pain-in-your-arse, Oscar.

Who as far as you know, thinks you’re still seven years old and pushing him into the sandpit in your parent’s backyard. Who honestly thinks all boys look at you and still see the little girl with pigtail braids who used to play race-cars with him. Which, well, is the same way you look at Oscar and see the kid who used to pick his boogers and spend hours reading his favourite racing magazine to you when you just wanted to play Barbies.

So whatever, you’re even—

You think his girlfriend is crazy for being in love with him and he doesn’t think Jack Doohan has a crush on you.

Oh yeah: you think Jack Doohan has a crush on you. Or you might have a crush on Jack Doohan, who’s to say?

It’s really not some baseless accusation you’re spouting with no evidence. Again, Oscar just thinks you still have cooties. And, okay, y’know what, see for yourself—

You swear this time you’re only outside Alpine hospitality on accident. Oscar and Lando are wrapped up in some McLaren PR thing and you’re filming B-roll of the paddock to use in a reel you’re thinking about making. Ending up by Alpine was a total mistake.

Not that it bothers you much when the object of your affection turns up regardless.

You hear the scuff of shoes against gravel and feel a presence hovering at your back before you know it’s him. Somehow, you know it’s him anyway. As if you’re linked by some cosmic thread. As if you’re attuned to his very aura… Not that you believe in that stuff. But it is weird. The way you know him without sight.

You feel his hair tickle your cheek as he leans over your shoulder, all up in your space.

You don’t mind.

“Hard at work, huh?” he teases into your ear, his breathy laugh making you suppress a shiver.

“Mm hm,” you answer, tight lipped, trying to keep the camera stabilised despite yourself, “Doin’ my job.”

He moves away and you finally hit the button to stop recording. You spin around to face him, trying not to let a full-blown grin appear on your face. He’s doing something similar, half-grin, that snaggletooth you like so much on display. Eyes sparkling in the sunlight.

“Was that a jab at me?”, he raises his eyebrows (can’t raise just one, you’ve discovered).

You make a face, shake your head, “No, I would never,” you tell him in an exaggerated tone that says you’re taking the piss.

He scoffs, points a finger at you, “I’ll have you know that I was on the sim until three in the morning.”

You laugh this time, loud, tucking your phone into your back pocket and trying to resist the urge to lean into him like girls do in the movies. Hand on his shoulder, folding in half, like he’s just said the funniest thing ever. Like he’s not just some guy with brown hair and pretty eyes.

“Yeah, I know, Jack. You don’t let anyone forget it.”

His eyes widen impishly, “People need to know.”

“Sure do,” you smile broadly; meaning it, also taking a bit of a jab at Alpine’s chronic ‘middle-of-the-pack’-ness without being too mean, “Where would Alpine be without you?”

He shrugs nonchalantly, “In the gutter, with Williams, probably.”

You both burst suddenly into a fit of laughter. Neither one of you leaning on the other, but close to it. You’re sure it looks suspicious— Oscar Piastri’s known best friend and Alpine’s reserve driver bent over and giggling with each other— but you can’t bring yourself to care.

Being around Jack is intoxicating.

He makes your head spin and your heart race and your chest feel like it’s got some yawning sun inside of it. When you’re with him you always want more. To hear him talk, to watch his expressions shift, to feel him, warm and there and next to you. It’s never enough.

You want you want you want,

He occupies your mind when he’s not around. You think back on your texts. Interactions that the two of you have had. How he looked on a certain day. If you’re being too annoying by replying to his Instagram stories—

It shouldn’t matter. It does anyway. You want him to like you, so desperately that there’s an ache pulsing in the middle of your chest. Right in the centre of your ribs.

Sometimes, you think he wants you to like him too.

You’re drunk on it— him, the laughter— it makes your fingers tingle when you look at him. Not sure if this is the Moment exactly, but feeling something in the air anyway. The way his mouth is parted, the way the corner of it lifts. It’s not the Something, but it is something. Or at least it’s something until,

well, until Oscar—

Oscar who comes barreling over like there’s not palpable electricity between you and Jack right now.

“Hey man,” he says, as you’re watching them dap each other up like Oscar isn’t totally ruining any chance to flirt further with the Alpine reserve driver. You roll your eyes covertly. Huff audibly when Oscar drags you away for PR duties. Send Jack a beaming smile over your shoulder anyway, get one in return that makes you all warm and fuzzy and hopeful.

Oscar side eyes you, “Why do you look all red?”

You raise an eyebrow, hair flicking into your own face as you snap your head to look at him, “Excuse me?”

He gestures at his own face, then points at yours, “Dunno. You’re all red. Did you say something embarrassing to Jack? He probably doesn’t care—”

“Oh my god,” you cut him off, “Are you that blind?”

He frowns, furrows his eyebrows, “What do you mean?”

You jut a thumb at Alpine hospitality in the distance, careful to keep your voice low, “You don’t think there was something back there? Like between Jack and I?”

Oscar stares at you for a long moment. Dumbfounded. Utterly confused. So much so that you begin to get annoyed at his silence. What does it say that your boy-best-friend can’t even imagine a guy having a crush on you? Are you really that insane for thinking Jack might?

“You and Jack?” he asks.

“Jack and I,” you repeat, tone clipped.

He’s quiet for another long second. Then he’s shaking his head like it’s the most absurd thing he’s ever heard,

“No,” he’s saying in that way that’s trying to sound like a maybe but betrays his true feelings on the matter.

You scoff indignantly, then shove him hard enough that he stumbles into a wall. He’ll eat his words one day, you know it.

hope u guys enjoyed🥺

#jack doohan x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #formula one fanfic #💫drabbles #drabbles:jd #f2 x reader #<- that counts right???

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embrosegraves · 11 months ago

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𝔹𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕕 ℕ𝕖𝕨

(request) Mark Webber x Fem!Reader The very beginning of a brand new relationship

Warnings: None :D it's really short tho

For as long as you remember, you’ve always been a cuddly person. When you were younger people would say it was just separation anxiety because you were never very far away from your parents. But as you grew older more people seemed to understand that it was just your way to show the people around you that you loved them. However just because you were cuddle-prone didn’t mean that everyone you loved was as well. So you had scoured through books, magazines and the internet to find ways to show your love for people.

When you first met Mark, you could tell almost instantly that he was really a hugger. Which did bum you at first, but you quickly began to love getting a fist bump or a high five when you saw him around the paddock. You thought they were extra special whenever Mark would do really well during a race. It was like your own little celebration, even if he did the same thing with his mechanics and engineers. You didn’t care, truly, because you still felt special enough to be included and that’s what mattered to you.

You almost lost your mind when you had gone to shake his hand one morning. Instead of grabbing and shaking your hand like you had expected him to, Mark had grabbed your forearm and had begun speaking to you about making plans after the race weekend. Almost instantly you had also grasped his forearm, your hand comically smaller than his arm, and agreed to whatever plans he had just made for the two of you. He gave you a smile, patted your shoulder with his free hand and continued on walking.

You had spent the rest of your day thinking about the interaction. It wasn’t until you had gotten back to the hotel your team was in that you realised he had organised for the two of you to go for dinner. You felt a little silly that it had taken you so long to register what he had actually said to you, especially considering it had been the only thing you thought of all day. Sitting on the bed of your hotel room, you thought really hard about the actual words he had said to you.

“I know this is probably a long shot, but I’d really like to take you to dinner Monday night.”

He was confident, trying to hide how nervous he was. Looking back, you noticed that his usually cocky smile had looked much softer. Almost timid.

“I’d love to.”

Thinking of how you had responded, you grew embarrassed. You had probably looked so dazed. You wouldn’t be surprised if your eyes had been glazed over. He had asked you to dinner on Monday, which gave you an entire race weekend to prepare yourself.

It was both fortunate and unfortunate that the weekend seemed to go by so quickly. It was soon time for the race, which meant that your date was the next day. You had decided early on that you would continue as normal. Greeting everyone, including Mark, as you usually would. Fist bumps, high fives and hugs made their way around the garage as everyone prepared for the Australian Grand Prix.

The drivers had gotten into the cars and were waiting to be rolled out to the grid. You made sure to go to Mark in his car and give a fist bump and good luck before the car got rolled away. His visor was still up, so you had gotten to see his face scrunch in a smile when you wished him luck. Everyone was excited for Mark this race, being on his home turf and all.

Once the race began, it didn’t take long for the happy and hopeful mood in the garage to basically disappear. The race had been going relatively well for Mark, a few mistakes here and there but nothing that would drastically change his race outcome. Until of course, Lewis Hamilton’s Mercedes clipped Mark’s rear tyre causing him to spin out and retire onto the gravel. The safety car came out, the stewards ruled it a racing incident, and Mark was brought back to the pit lane in the marshall’s car.

When Mark got back to the garage, he was brought straight to a debrief before finally leaving to his driver’s room. You had followed him to his room and quietly entered behind him. He hadn’t even acknowledged that you were in the room until he had sat on the small sofa and you had walked over to him. You knew that he normally wasn’t a hugger, but you felt like the circumstances called for one so you gently wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders and gave him a gentle squeeze.

“What are you doing?” He asked, slightly bewildered.

“I’m giving you affection. You need it.” If you were honest, a small part of you expected him to remove himself from your embrace.

“Disgusting-” He paused, it seemed like he was contemplating the hug, before finally, “Do it more.”

This made you laugh a bit, but you complied nonetheless. You squeezed him again and this time you also placed a kiss on the top of his head. When you felt his arms reach up and wrap around you, you spoke.

“You better get used to me giving you affection if we’re going to dinner tomorrow.”

“I think I can do that.” He laughed.

You laughed as well. “Good. Because you won’t be able to escape it.”

I like this one a lot and I feel kinda bad that it was sitting in my drafts for so long

So here it is!

likes, replies and reblogs are always appreciated <3

#formula 1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fluff #formula one #formula 1 #mark webber #mark webber x you #mark webber x reader #mark webber imagine #mark webber fic #mark webber x y/n

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marieracingteam · 11 months ago

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Ghost Writer/ Ghost Enemy

In recent years, what is considered the most important sport in motorsport’s history has noticeably lost its popularity. Its reach to the female public is at its worst, and social networks have stopped considering relevant what filled newspapers and magazines one day.

As expected, investors are not satisfied, but not surprised either. It seems that the pinnacle of motorsport has become untouchable and they are the ones who built their empire in the clouds.

Books and movies were written about its elitism, about how unattainable it was to get one of the prestigious seats in the single-seaters. Wealth, fame, luxury... everything kept pushing them away from the public until they reached this point.

What could be made now? Could one social media post change history? Or did they need to bring back the big weapons to revert the damage already made?

A Formula 1 and Max Verstappen fanfiction.

Masterlist.

Weekend 1. Formula 1 Pre-Season Testing.

Weekend 2. Bahrain Grand Pix.

Weekend 3. Saudi Arabian Grand Pix.

Weekend 4. Australian Grand Prix.

Extra. The week between the Australian and the Japanese Grand Prix.

Weekend 5. Japanese Grand Prix.

Weekend 6. Chinese Grand Prix.

Weekend 7. Miami Grand Prix.

Weekend 8. Emilia-Romagna Grand Prix.

Weekend 9. Monaco Grand Prix.

Weekend 10. Spanish Grand Prix.

#f1 #formula 1 #formula 1 fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 smau #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic

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auvis · 7 months ago

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Austin photographed for the latest issue of Weekend Australian Review Magazine 📸

#austin butler #the bikeriders

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leclerrari · 10 months ago

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“I’m so sorry, but I suffer from short-term memory loss”. Those who have never seen Nemo probably won’t understand the reference, signed in this case by the very charming Dory. A reference that I use to address a problem that seems to afflict many “fans” (the quotation marks are not used by chance) of the pinnacle of motorsport. Following the - extraordinary - victory of Carlos Sainz, in fact, I found myself reading various comments which, rather than praising the Spaniard’s performance, preferred to bring out how “Ferrari renewed the contract of the wrong driver”. None of these were journalists from Marca, much less from AS. I’m talking about long-time Ferrari “tifosi”, regular visitors to our platforms, who have pointed out that Leclerc has only won two races more than the mistreated Sainz. Consequently, getting off the wagon of the person who was about to win in Bahrain, at the steering wheel of the red car, in his second appearance wearing the Cavallino suit, or in Austria, before being escorted out by Max Verstappen, or in Singapore, again in 2019, before he was subjected to an undercut by his own teammate. Getting off the wagon of the person who achieved two podiums with the SF1000, of the person who was on the verge of winning in Silverstone at the steering wheel of the SF21, a car with which he even achieved two pole positions (how can we forget the one in Monaco, lost without even having the chance to race). Of the person who was mocked by a Virtual Safety Car in Jeddah in 2022, the year in which his power unit broke while he was dominating both in Barcelona and in Baku, the year in which he was the victim of the worst of treasons in Silverstone and of strategies bordering on embarrassment, as in Monte-Carlo and Budapest. Of the person who was vice World Champion in 2022, of the one who before the 2024 Australian Grand Prix was returning from seven consecutive front rows, of the one who collected 23 pole positions: only Michael Schumacher, in Ferrari, did better than him. Carlos, unlike Charles, has always been able to be in the right place at the right time (Singapore 2023 and Australia 2024) taking advantage of the circumstances like no one else has and, certainly, of the not excellent weekends of his teammate, which unfortunately for Leclerc have coincided with the very rare failures of Red Bull and Max Verstappen. This, for those who suffer from short-term memory loss, was Charles’ fault, this is the reason why Ferrari would have “renewed the contract of the wrong driver”. This is what has led many to get off the wagon of the monegasque, a wagon that they will soon be forced to chase on foot. On the other hand, “those who don’t have a good memory must have good legs”.

— Alessandro Morini Gallarati for Hammer Time Magazine

#if nobody got me i know hammer time magazine got me can i get an amen #charles leclerc #article #fav #i translated this almost sentence by sentence guided by my poor italian knowledge so pardon if something was translated strangely sjdfn

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mraprilfools · 3 months ago

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Word Count: 6.9k

Rating: E Pairing: Mammon x F!Reader

CW/TW: Mammon

Summary:

Even after dating the infamous sin Mammon for months, the man hasn't even tried to lay one dirty hand on you. You decide it's time to change that and put on a skimpy black dress on your next date! Only one problem, the reporters love it more than he does!

Or so you think. Preview below the cut

Openly dating one of the Sins was one of the best ways to end up with your name everywhere. In magazines, TV segments, and online discussion boards. It felt like your whole world was turned upside down once they had snapped a single photo of you leaving a restaurant with Mammon. He towered over you considerably, but you stuck out like a sore thumb as a simple hell-born Baphomet. A secretary that happened by the strangest fluke, a misfiling! Mammon had been far too impressed with your initial meeting to fire you.

All it took was a little healthy fear and suddenly he became borderline obsessed with you. At first, it was casual hangouts with the large sinner making himself quite at home with you. Then he was stealing your weekends and your free time for reasons unrelated to work. His hand became familiar on your shoulder, pushing you into his large plush body whenever he had some oddly capitalistic word of wisdom to share.

Before you knew it, the Sin had become a familiar part of your life. Only he was frustratingly chaste! Sure he’d cuddle with you, push that head against your neck, and wrap his four arms around you. You were happy to lay up on his fuzzy belly and simply… sleep. It was heavenly but three months later and he had not so much as tried to kiss you once.

You’d get to hold his hand! Mammon would pick you up and carry you. He even got you, your very own jester cap! Some days you’d lay on top of him while you played video games together. But… it never got more physical than that.

But tonight you felt you hyping yourself up to try and push things to the next level! At least a smooch! Today’s secret weapon? A pretty black dress that hugged your curves, leaving nothing to the imagination of what you were packing. High heels that showed off your legs even with your hooves fighting it every step of the way, and you went the extra mile to have your hair up.

Tonight! You were going to fuck a clown!

You arrived first at the venue. Standing outside waiting for him, pulling the shawl around your shoulders to attempt and banish the chilling cold of the evening. You’d chosen beauty over comfort and were starting to regret it. The flash of a camera made me far too aware of how high the hem of your dress rode and the plunging neckline.

It didn’t stop with one flash or two. Several were going off in the dark corners where you were never looking. You were stuck between staying where you were so Mammon could find you, or finding a place to hide. The anxiety of the crossroad didn’t have to live long. A familiar limo on the street meant your brief vigil was over and salvation.

You stood on the tips of your hooves, watching with unmasked excitement waiting for the sight of the man who had become so quickly dear to you.

Mammon stepped out wearing a bright green suit with a black vest underneath. His head was still covered with his iconic mask, matching with the colors of his formal wear. There were trappings of familiarity such as the squirting water flower and the spinning bow tie that spoke of his profession. The pressure in your chest felt much lighter at the sight of the larger-than-life sin. Thankfully he attracted all the cameras too! Something Mammon could brush off with ease because it was a world he was born into.

“There’s my Doll!” The familiar voice with its Australian slang cut through the din of the city. The nickname was a familiar one, apparently short for one of Mammon’s favorite things: The Dollar Bill.

The Chartreuse eyes glowed even in the evening, contrasting against the artificial lights. Mammon wasted no time scooping you right off the ground! Hands held your waist, lifting you until you were face to face despite your height differences. He then tucked you into the crook of his lower set of arms like a seat while the upper half was your support for your back. Your legs bent against his belly while he looked at you with his face illuminating with joy.

“You look like a million bucks!” A toothy grin flashed across his face; knowing how cheesy that sounded.

Didn’t fail to bring heat to your neck and a bubbling joy that had you bashfully trying to turn your head away. That was the highest compliment THE Mammon could give! “Fuzzy! We’re in public!” You reminded him. But the sin could hardly care, already pressing his forehead against yours. The ear of his hat tickled your scalp as his lips pressed against your temple.

“Yeah! And you think I give a shit? They SHOULD be looking. These pieces of shit are lucky to be getting to see people like us in public! Fuck, I should be CHARGING them. Wait--” The illuminated expression faltered, eyes squinting. He was stuck in one of his usual thoughts on how to exploit anything and everything for money. It was but one of the many things you loved about the man! Instead of interrupting you pressed a chaste kiss against his forehead, too shy to steal your first kiss in public!

Mammon’s face gentled, large green eyes widening in joy. “Aww, who am I kidding? I’m with my Doll! I’ll exploit these bitches later. You ready for some Italian?”

“You bet! I’ve never been anywhere this fancy before. I hope I don’t accidentally embarrass us...” It had to be quite an affair it was to make even Mammon dress up in a suit. The clown cocked his head to the side and then burst into laughter.

“Don’t worry Doll! Play it off like a joke and everyone will think you’re funny yeah? In any case, I’d hardly be Mammon if I didn’t take my girl to the most expensive restaurant in town yeah? I’m not some… broke loser. Eugh, like can you imagine?” Mammon stuck out his tongue as if it were easily the least attractive trait in anyone. You stuck your tongue out with him, a gesture that brought back that brilliant smile you loved.

“Hah, there’s my Doll! Poor people right? It’s like they want to be a joke. Come on!” Not given much of a choice, you were rocked within the cradle of Mammon’s arms. Held possessively, intentionally blocking you from the sight of the cameras.

#helluva boss fanfiction #mammon x reader #helluva boss mammon #mammon x you

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shadoedseptmbr · 5 months ago

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Since you apparently followed some Olympics, I have a question about that. Are Olympics something big in the states? Like, something culturally important? (besides winning medals, you did great about that) I can never tell, with how big college sports is and stuff like baseball and others, if things like the Olympics are "as big" in the states as well? Like, here it's broadcasted all day long on the biggest national TV stations and such. Not everyone will care, but it's pretty big. (and Paris did great with it, alas now the French hunger games will continue, or maybe the break also included the paralympics hopefully....)

hmm

i will say *yes* we do follow it. one of our major tv networks (we don't have a national network) bids for it, this year it was NBC, and for the full two weeks (depending on the difference in time zone) rebroadcasts the more popular sports (gymnastics, basketball, swimming, the track and field events) here for "prime time:" 6:30 PM to 10 PM (1800 to 2200) and then after the evening news for highlights, interviews, and less popular sports and for a few hours at a time during the day all weekend. This year, there was full coverage on NBC's premium pay network and online.

Most local news show medal counts and do "this athlete in this sport you only hear about every four years is from here" specials. There's always a lot of talk about the athletes that are from the bigger university "oh these college rivals are teammates, now." The men's basketball team gets A LOT of coverage because it's all the stars of the game playing together.

The big newspapers do medal counts and the sports sections are full of articles, usually there's something on the front page as well. Magazines get put out, medalists get covers of the bigger news and sports magazines. We have a nationally carried cereal brand called "Wheaties" that loves to put the athletes on the box. Coca Cola always has a broad swathe of the advertising and sells "olympic special cases and cans"

This year seemed like better coverage, the venue, and interesting competition made for more people talking about it than i've seen in a while. What usually comes up is the "okay for two weeks i'm patriotic" people who aren't sports people and "i have a lot of opinions about this sport i've only been watching for five minutes." wE love the underdog stories, we love when smaller countries do well, we like to beat certain countries just for the fun of the rivalries (the Australians in swimming, for instance) so yeah, It's a pretty big deal and, at its best, when we let it, it brings us together a little.

#sept replies #us olympics

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qnewsau · 3 months ago

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Chappell Roan debuts lesbian country song on SNL

New Post has been published on https://qnews.com.au/chappell-roan-debuts-lesbian-country-song-on-snl/

Chappell Roan debuts lesbian country song on SNL

Chappell Roan has confirmed a new era is starting for her, performing a brand new sapphic country-pop song on Saturday Night Live.

The pop superstar, 26, was the musical guest on the show over the weekend, as comedian John Mulaney hosted.

Chappell performed Pink Pony Club first, but for her second performance of the night, she debuted a new track.

Titled The Giver, the country-pop serenade is about her favourite topic: girls loving girls.

“All you country boys saying you know how to threat a woman right,” Chappell said during a spoken word aside in the song.

“Well, only a woman knows how to treat a woman right. She gets the job done.”

The title of the song was only confirmed when the SNL performance was uploaded – and then removed – from the show’s YouTube account.

Watch below:

Chappell Roan’s full hq performance of ‘The Giver’, her new cuntry single, live on SNL! pic.twitter.com/NdKLmqXRpw

— best of chappell roan (@bestofchappell) November 3, 2024

Watch Chappell’s performance of Pink Pony Club below:

youtube

Chappell Roan is releasing her second album

Chappell Roan toured Australia late last year following the release of her debut album The Rise And Fall Of A Midwest Princess, which was a slow burn success.

She performed smaller venues in Australia, but in less than 12 months the American artist has become one of the biggest pop stars in the world, breaking crowd size records at festivals.

Chappell has been teasing the release of new music recently.

Last week, she posted a photo of herself with the vinyl of her debut album and wrote, “Album kinda popped off imo but it is time to welcome a hot new bombshell into the villa.”

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by ･ﾟ: *✧ Chappell Roan ✧*:･ﾟ (@chappellroan)

Read more:

Chappell Roan reflects on meteoric rise to pop stardom

‘I’m coming’: Chappell Roan teases next Australian tour

‘True talent’: Elton John is a huge Chappell Roan fan

Chappell Roan calls out ‘creepy’ fan behaviour

For the latest LGBTIQA+ Sister Girl and Brother Boy news, entertainment, community stories in Australia, visit qnews.com.au. Check out our latest magazines or find us on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and YouTube.

#chappell roan #Lesbian

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myhughniverse · 6 months ago

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#Kylie Minogue #Weekend Australian Magazine #The One and Only Kylie

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haru-kuneko · 5 months ago

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Another Happy Weekend (hopefully)! ✨🌟

Any of my fellow Filipinos heading to the Big Bad Wolf book sale at the Filinvest Tent or just wanna chill out on the couch to catch the finale of Murder Drones? (*≧∀≦*)

I promised myself I'd make more art during the weekends. From upper right to lower left, Kaira, Leo and Irene find themselves under the looming shadow of The Big Bad Wolf.

Also, RAWR is supposed to be a made-up magazine for nostalgic millennial hipsters. The name comes from “rawr XD” which a lot of emo teens in the 2000s used to say "I love u." ‘XD’ is actually a laughing emoji.

If you’re wondering why DunMesh and Murder Drones are there, that’s ‘coz I’m both into those fandoms right now. I heard RedHook is gonna have their Australian tour starting on August 30th!

Laios: READY TO RAWR XD! LET'S BE FRIENDS!

Kabru: Now that golden retriever (Laios) is distracted, where is that freak that roasted my mom's chicken tikka masala?

Mickbell: I'm so awesome right now.

("Imposter" by RedHook starts playing in the background)

#writers on tumblr #artists on tumblr #wattpad #dungeon meshi fanart #amandithesecretmessenger #AMANDI #red hook #art dump #art wip #my wips

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scotianostra · 1 year ago

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September 17th 1873 saw the death of Scottish born surgeon, merchant, explorer and settler Alexander Berry.

Berry was born on 30 November 1781 in Fife, Scotland, one of nine children of James Berrie (d.1827) and his wife Isabel Tod (d.1830). He was educated at Cupar Grammar School and at the Universities of St Andrews and Edinburgh where he studied medicine. Despite his father's opposition he became surgeon's mate in an East Indiaman bound for China and later in the Lord Hawkesbury on a voyage to Madras. His dislike of the flogging of seamen and a recognition of the profit to be won from commerce led him to abandoned his chosen profession.

From 1808 made several voyages to New South Wales with cargos of goods. Travelled to South America and returned to London in 1812, after losing his ship. In 1819 returned to Sydney establishing a mercantile business in partnership with Edward Wollstonecraft. In 1822, Berry and Wollstonecraft applied for a grant of 10,000 acres on the Shoalhaven River in New South Wales. In 1823 they exported coal to Rio de Janiero. Closed their mercantile business in 1828. In 1830 a grant of land of 10, 000 acres applied for on the Shoalhaven in 1822 was approved. Between 1830 and 1840 he purchased an additional 22,000 acres which produced maize, tobacco, wheat, barley, potatoes, pigs and cattle. The area had some of the most fertile and lush farmland in the country.

Berry grew very wealthy from his occupation. He sat in NSW parliament for 14 years and is considered a founding father of the area; they named the town after him in 1888.

This settlement became known as the Coolangatta Estate and developed into what is now the pretty and historic township of Berry , named in honour of Alexander and his brother, two hours south of Sydney It is a popular tourist spot, especially among the short-stay and weekender crowd.

Of course with the majority of Colonial rule Alexander’s success came at a price to the native population.

Berry used Aboriginal people as slave labour to clear the land – whether you consider payment by way of rations as slave labour – but there definitely wasn’t a monetary exchange.

Berry had a different view, but more and more these colonial settlers are being uncovered what for what they were. this was what he had to say in his memoirs;

“For many years I have reaped my harvest on the principle of free Labour. When I made a settlement at Coolangatta, in 1822, [Aboriginal people] were comparatively numerous, and were said to be very ferocious. I was informed that they had recently driven away a number of sawyers or wood-cutters, and my old friend, the late James Norton, told me that they would eat me. I had, however, served a kind of apprenticeship to the management of savages in New Zealand, and I was always on good terms with those of the settlement. Indeed, I found them very useful.”

As well as using the indigenous population he is also accused of raiding the graves of those people in the name of scientific research for the likes of Charles Darwin and others back home in good old “Blighty”

Australian researchers say they have uncovered evidence from Berry’s correspondence and his later reminiscences that he sent the skull of the Yuin leader Arrawarra to Britain in 1827, two years after he died.

We Scots can’t just wash our hands of all this, as well as Berry being a Scot we were involved at the other end, where the skull ended up, a letter of 20 August 1827 indicates Berry dispatched the skull, probably to the Edinburgh Museum, although it has not yet been found.

He was also involved, after the fact of the Boyd massacre, where Maori residents of of Whangaroa Harbour in northern New Zealand killed between 66 and 70 European crew of the Boyd. The massacre itself is said to have been in retaliation of floggings of Maori’s on the vessel. Brery took two local chiefs hostage for a time. He wrote in the Edinburgh Magazine that he had released them on condition that they lose their rank with their people, although he never expected that to happen.

Berry's memoirs were published in 1912, entitled 'Reminiscences'.They chiefly describe his experiences at sea, both with the East India company and his private travels, with only a short section covering his life in New South Wales. In particular he describes in detail his relationships with the indigenous people of New Zealand and Fiji, and his experiences during the rescue at the scene of the Boyd massacre.

Alexander Berry died on this day 1873 aged 91, at Crows Nest House. He was buried in family vault in St. Thomas' cemetery with his wife, Elizabeth Wollstonecraft, who was cousin of the Frankenstein author Mary Shelley.

While some admire Berry as a pioneering hero he has also been described as an “Immoral Hero”

#scotland #scottish #history #Merchant #Explorer

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pcttrailsidereader · 7 months ago

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AI Reaches Trail . . . Has Big Tech Gone Too Far

By Adam Roy, Backpacker Magazine

Google has figured out that I like to hike. I’m not sure what tipped it off—could it be the roughly 40 hours per workweek I spend editing and fact-checking stories about hiking, or maybe the nights and weekends I pass searching for trailheads and obsessively checking and rechecking the weather forecast. Whatever the reason, whenever I log on I get served up a stream of gear promotions and tourism spots for outdoor destinations. But about a week ago, I saw an ad for Google’s Pixel 8 smartphone and its onboard Gemini artificial intelligence that stopped me in my tracks.

The ad goes like this: A dad is trying to set up a tent in a campsite. The dad is floundering, tangled up in guylines and collapsing nylon, when he turns around and notices his son has stopped collecting firewood and is watching him with dismay, probably thinking about how much better his stepdad is at camping. Then the dad pulls out his phone, snaps a picture of the tent, and feeds it into Gemini, which returns a numbered list of instructions for him. Smash cut to the now-content kid and father enjoying their perfectly-pitched shelter.

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My first reaction to the ad: I’ve been there. Whether by neglecting hot spots until they bloomed into blisters, leaving a vent open in a snowstorm, or spending an hour struggling to coax a flame out of a pile of damp wood, I know what it’s like to struggle on a camping or backpacking trip in front of other people. The desire to avoid that struggle and the embarrassment that comes with it is a pretty powerful motivator.

My second thought: This is going to get someone into so, so much trouble.

Google and other Big Tech AI firms like OpenAI, Meta, and X want to see their technology everywhere. Using it to filter restaurant results is one thing, but pushing artificial intelligence as a substitute for basic outdoor skills comes with real risks. Let’s start with the fact that Google’s AI arguably still isn’t up to the task of keeping people safe in the outdoors: We’re barely a month out from Gemini telling searchers to eat glue and cook spaghetti in gasoline. Although those errors didn’t do any damage besides embarrassing a handful of highly paid software engineers, it’s not hard to imagine AI trained on the unfiltered whole of the internet telling a new camper it’s safe to run a propane heater inside their tent or eat a poisonous mushroom.

(That’s assuming, of course, that the AI is even capable of giving actionable information: Zoom in on the simulated advice Gemini offers in the commercial and you’ll notice that step 4 is “Assemble the tent poles according to the manufacturer’s instructions.” Apparently Google Dad, like so many dads before him, just needed someone to remind him to read the manual.)

You Still Have To Use Your Brain

Yes, ideally AI users would be cautious consumers, sniffing out bad or obviously dangerous information before acting on it. But we already have real-life examples of people over-relying on much less intrusive technology with disastrous results. Take another popular Google product, Google Maps, for example. There were the hikers who needed rescue after following an imaginary trail in Maps up the side of a mountain in British Columbia, and the German tourists who had to trek two days through the Australian bush after a similar error stranded them and their car on a remote dirt track. The company is currently fighting a lawsuit from the family of a man who followed its GPS directions off of a collapsed bridge.

In Colorado, tow companies make a killing every year dragging stranded motorists off of mountain 4×4 tracks after app-assisted “shortcuts.” The plug-and-play, let-us-think-for-you, don’t-bother-checking-the-sources tone of Google and other corporations’ marketing of their artificial intelligence only makes incidents like these more likely.

My bigger objections to AI-directed camping, though, may be philosophical. Whether you learn from a friend or an expert online, there’s something wonderful about becoming competent in the outdoors. It’s a long, awkward, and sometimes uncomfortable process. But it’s joyful too, fostering self-confidence and a deeper sense of connection with your environment. Mediating that through a robot assistant strikes me as a quick way to dilute that, ensuring that you neither learn any real outdoor skills nor unplug in any meaningful way.

Other tech firms’ AI-powered takes on the outdoors are equally baffling. An ad released by Meta last month starts with one friend in a group chat enticing the others to camp by sharing an AI-generated image of someone cowboy camping next to an unattended campfire, a fully set-up tent with only a lantern inside of it, and, inexplicably, a folding table with what looks like either several copper pots or maybe a moonshiner’s still on it. Setting aside the safety issues, I can’t help but wonder what kind of person finds more inspiration to get outside in a fake-ass AI-generated image than in the hundreds of thousands of real outdoor photos plastered across the internet.

We Can Still Embrace Technology

I’m not a Luddite. I plan every trip I take on Gaia, Outside’s mapping app, and I listen to podcasts on long solo hikes. Backpacker and Outside’s other titles feature Scout, an AI search engine we trained on our own work in order to help readers more easily find the human-written information they’re looking for; we’ve even experimented with letting Scout choose a hike for us. I also recognize I’m not unbiased: My fellow Backpacker editors, writers, and I make our living creating carefully researched guides and stories for people who love the outdoors. Seeing Google redigest those into AI pablum just so it can make ad money off the backs of the real-life hikers doing the real-life work is frustrating.

Ultimately, the outdoors should be for everyone, and how you choose to get outside is up to you. If that means asking Google or Meta’s AI to walk you through it, so be it. But think about what you want to get out of your time in the woods: There are some things in life that are better without Big Tech breathing down your neck. If you want to polish your outdoor skills, there’s a whole constellation of people who will help you without harvesting all of your personal data, from your more experienced friends to local trail clubs to, yes, even the human experts here at Backpacker. And if you’re ever struggling to set up your tent, a free tip: Start by reading the instructions, and practice before your kid is watching.

#Artificial Intelligence #Technology on the trail #AI mistakes #Youtube

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usafphantom2 · 2 years ago

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Dozens of Hornets fighters retired by Australians may go to Ukraine

Australia has 46 F/A-18 Hornet fighters that could help Ukraine and are at risk of being destroyed.

Fernando Valduga By Fernando Valduga 04/21/2023 - 17:30 in Military, War Zones

The Royal Australian Air Force (RAAF) has several dozen fourth-generation F/A-18 Hornet fighters in its inventory. They can be donated to Ukraine, but they run the risk of being discarded.

Australia deactivated 46 F/A-18 Hornet jets last year, after the arrival of the fifth-generation F-35 Lightning II fighters.

In 2019, Morrison's government agreed to sell 25 of the 75 planes it originally bought to the Royal Canadian Air Force for 90 million Canadian dollars, or about $4 million each.

The Australian government wanted to sell 46 remaining planes to an American company, which provides training for military pilots, a year before the jets were retired. Three years later, eight were allocated to museums and one to training. The rest remains stored. The Australian Department of Defense does not say where the other planes are.

If the agreement is not signed, the RAAF simply intends to discard the fighters, which could help the Armed Forces of Ukraine in the war against the Russian Federation.

In international circles, much of the debate about the Ukrainian Air Force focuses on the F-16, the most numerous fighter plane. The F/A-18, which the RAAF retired in 2021, is a similar crop and performs the same combat functions as the F-16. Both are from the same time as the MiG-29 and Sukhoi Su-27 still used by Ukrainians.

These F/A-18 have been updated to level A++. The fighters are equipped with AN/APG-73 radar. They can carry AGM-158 JASSM, AIM-120 AMRAAM, AIM-132 ASRAAM, Harpoon missiles, as well as JDAM, JDAM-ER and Paveway II bombs.

The F/A-18 Hornets arrived in Australia in the second half of the 1980s. Legally, as the F/A-18 were manufactured in the United States, the approval of the Biden administration would be required. There may be advantages in the US and Europe, allowing Australia to go first. As relatively strange to the conflict, the Australian government could make it easier for other countries to follow it with little financial or political cost to itself.

The remaining aircraft are in excellent condition and come with spare parts. This means that there are, within a member of Ukraine's military alliance, enough surplus combat jets for an entire medium-sized air force.

Australia is not the only country that has F/A-18 Hornet fighters available for sale. Spain is in the process of retiring its jets as well. Canada, Finland and Switzerland have plans to use the planes for several years, until they start receiving the new F-35 Lightning II stealth fighters.

Tags: Military AviationF/A-18C/D HornetRAAF - Royal Australian Air Force/Royal Australian Air ForceWar Zones - Russia/Ukraine

Fernando Valduga

Aviation photographer and pilot since 1992, he has participated in several events and air operations, such as Cruzex, AirVenture, Dayton Airshow and FIDAE. He has works published in specialized aviation magazines in Brazil and abroad. Uses Canon equipment during his photographic work throughout the world of aviation.