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aurora-daily · 3 years ago

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AURORA

Interview by Stuart Williams for Euphoria Magazine (July 9th, 2021).

Norwegian songstress AURORA returns with brand new single “Cure for Me,” a glistening, message-driven piece that looks to set summer 2021 alight. “The ‘Cure for Me’ single was actually born two years ago,” she tells EUPHORIA in an exclusive interview. “I was in Australia on tour and then instead of having a day off in between the gigs, I asked my drummer and co-producer Magnus if we could rent a studio for a day and have some fun. I had this theme I wanted to get out of my head [hums melody]. I just really wanted to make a song with this ugly theme and we made it — my team kind of discovered it a few years later and said, ‘Ah, this is lovely, we should make it a single.’”

Speaking about the synth-laden track, AURORA finds herself reflecting on a controversial practice evident around the world. “It was originally inspired by those countries in the world that still forbid being gay and also the countries where conversion therapy is still allowed,” she says. “I think even in Norway it’s allowed — that’s the main reason I wrote this song. I was like, ‘I want to make a fun, celebration song about I don’t need a cure for me, I don’t need it, I’m perfectly fine.’ It’s absurd how the world can ever think that people will ever need a cure for love. Then I also know that it can mean a few different things, which I’m excited about, but it’s mainly the fact that it’s very easy to make people believe that there is something wrong with them. People tend to go to that fact so quickly — it takes so little before we’re like, ‘Oh, something is really wrong with me. I didn’t react the same way that they did, I must be fucked up.’ Or, ‘I don’t look like them; OK something is wrong.’ You know, we think something is wrong with us all the time and the media is telling us we’re not good enough. Everything all the time is trying to make us think that we’re insane. That’s kind of sad isn’t it? So it is kind of an opposite thing.”

With “Cure for Me” evoking a deepened understanding of an important subject to the artist, AURORA finds herself looking inward. “I am very lucky because I’ve never been that affected,” she shares. “I’ve been told many times in my life that, ‘You’re a bit [makes cuckoo bird sound].’ I’m very little Norwegian in many areas; I’m very Norwegian in some. It’s a very strange culture here and if you are very open, emotional, impulsive, and if you have a bit of a different brain, [it] doesn’t take much before you get aware even as a child that, ‘Oh, I am a bit different’ and it messes with your head a bit. It messed a bit with my mind in the beginning when I first started noticing it. I’ve never really cared and I don’t care now — I find so much joy and liberation in simply existing in the way that fits me the most. That’s a joy I find hard to let go of. We’re so diverse and that’s the whole point. That’s the foundation in our species that we are all different and we still manage to twist it around and make people feel bad about it.”

With the pandemic pushing live music events back further and further, the singer is eager to explore the track in a live setting. Speaking about her feelings from the release of the new single, AURORA says, “I wish I was nervous because I love being nervous, it’s like being in love isn’t it? But I am not nervous, I rarely am — it seems like a waste to me to be nervous about something I can’t control. But when I’m done with it, I need to just release it and it’s out of my hands, out of mind and out of sight — it belongs to the world. So no, I’m not nervous at all, but I am very excited. It’s always interesting and a fun experiment to see how people react when you do something a little different. It varies a lot what people think about it, so that’s very interesting to watch.”

Describing the process of creating the track, she says, “I like experimenting with the people you have around you. I like using the people I love and I like working with close people, you know. I feel like you don’t need to look out and search for the big names out there when you have talented friends, and you can just make music with them instead. Magnus is very good — I love working with him because he doesn’t write lyrics and interfere too much. I can’t write with anyone because I don’t like it so much, so it’s nice for me to be able to write and do what I want. When we produce the music we are sometimes very on the same page and sometimes we disagree. It’s fun to either fight for your opinion or learn that you were wrong, and I love that. We just have fun.”

Six years ago saw singer-songwriter AURORA release “Runaway,” the opener to All My Demons Greeting Me as a Friend, an album that saw her career catapulted into the stratosphere. Today “Runaway” has 275 million streams on Spotify, 140 million views on YouTube, and is rising week over week in the Official Singles Chart Top 100. Not only this, the track has also been given new life on social media app TikTok and is being streamed 2 million times daily. The roots of “Runaway” emerged at 11 years old, AURORA says. “I often think about that — of course our mind I guess perceives the past like, ‘Oh my God, it went so quick’ and I can remember things from when I wrote the song when I was 11 and now I’m over 10 years older than that. It is weird but I guess I remember the times, I’ve been really depressed two times in my life and then time moves so slowly that it’s exhausting and suffocating, so I feel like it’s a very good sign when you feel like time has gone past.”

It’s hard to believe that in 2015 the track found its way to the ears of a then-12-year-old Billie Eilish. It arguably led to Eilish starting her music journey — a career that has made her a global phenomenon. The track, AURORA says, has found a brand new life out in the world. “It has lived its life and therefore the success ‘Runaway’ is achieving I don’t manage to take it personally because it’s not me anymore, you know?” she says. “It’s sort of like, it’s a baby and every song is a child when you make them and it’s best part: making the child. It’s the most fun in every way, I think, in all possible metaphors. But I think when you raise the song, it’s a teenager or an adult and you just have to let them go and let them live their best life out there.”

Reflecting further on a younger version of herself, AURORA explores a very different mindset from that age and then now. “I remember when I first started writing I was really aware and had this epiphany that, ‘Oh my God, music can help with so much and music can speak about the unspoken. It can explain the unexplainable and put words into these impossible emotions,’” she says. “It has to do with being human. I took music very seriously, music was always very serious for me — very emotional and very explosive. Like a medicine, but I took it really seriously and I have so many sad songs. They all have a little light in them, I don’t manage to bring out sadness unless there is light to complement it I guess. I have so many sad songs and with time I kind of learnt that, ‘Oh my God, there is a whole world out there and people also need to dance and have fun in this life.’ I kind of learnt as I grew older that I can write songs that are fun and I can address things in the world that I love and hate, and I can speak up. Music can be much now: it can be a political force, it can be an emotional force and a release. Now I’m just enjoying all the signs of it. But it’s changed a lot, I’m more open now to what music can be, which is delightful.”

The human experience is a theme AURORA touches on throughout her musical output, however the physical act of producing art has been a huge outlet for the artist during this time. “I am very comfortable with this staying-inside-being-anti-social situation,” she shares. “It’s very good for me and I’m actually enjoying it quite a lot. Even though I can feel it in the people that [there is] this itch under the skin. I can feel the itch for things to change and go back to normal, but I’m also really enjoying things as they are now. I’ve been painting quite a lot. I always find it very intimidating to paint big pictures, obviously you know, it’s very easy to make a small piece of art, for me at least. I’ve been trying to make a really big one so it’s really big, and it’s very scary; but it’s very soothing. Painting to me is like the same as music but the opposite, because it’s an outlet for the art and it’s quiet and serene. While music is very explosive for me so it’s a very nice thing to have in my life. I feel very balanced.”

#aurora #aurora aksnes #interviews #cure for me #new album #magnus

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zara2148 · 5 years ago

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Fethsteel Fic: Not Good Enough (For You)

So here we go, my take on how Fethry Duck joined F.O.W.L. and met Steelbeak. Less warning stuff for this one, mostly just implied abuse, though it’s clear Steelbeak has not had a pleasant history. Also, both he and Fethry have some self esteem issues... and there’s not exactly spoilers for “Lost Harp of Mervana,” but the new intro takes place right after it.

Also on AO3. Make sure leave kudos and comments there. I enjoy the feel of being applauded.

Huey was placing Isabella Finch's journal back in Uncle Scrooge's study when he spotted the tin can phone there, now connected to nothing. Scrooge held on to everything in the mansion, even seemingly useless things, on the grounds that it may one day come in handy again.

It was one reason why Trash Day could be such a nightmare, though Scrooge was starting to learn how to let things go...

Huey found Della and Donald unpacking their gear off the sub, hanging up suits and boxing equipment until it was ready to be used again. "Uncle Donald? Mom? Do you know how to get in touch with Cousin Fethry? I think he'd love to hear all about Mervana."

"No, sorry, sweetie. I haven't heard anything from him since he rode off on the back of that... giant... fish..." Della shuddered in remembered revulsion.

"Mom, it was a krill."

"A fish is still a fish by any other name."

"You also seemed fine with Mitzy at the time."

"I was too busy thinking about all the Moonlanders we had to beat up."

Donald sighed and turned away from a crate to answer Huey’s question. “I haven’t heard from him either since then.” He shrugged. "But that's normal for Fethry. He either calls every five minutes or he gets so wrapped up in something we don't hear from him for six months."

"Doesn't he have a cell phone we could call?”

"Knowing Fethry, it would just get dropped in the ocean." There was a reason Scrooge only trusted Fethry with a tin can after one too many busted phones.

Huey’s beak twisted in discomfort. “But what if he got in trouble? What if he needed our help?”

Donald let out a breath, more frustrated with himself than anyone else, even Fethry. He knelt in front of Huey and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Fethry is…” Cuckoo bananas really hadn’t been the right thing to say to Huey, not when Donald could see the similarities between the two of them. Unsure how else to finish that sentence, he tried again.

“Fethry is who he is. But he’s also a grown adult capable of making decisions and taking care of himself. If he ever needs us, he knows where we are.”

Della grinned proudly. “He’s a part of the Duck family. Surviving is what we do.”

Uncle Donald and Mom weren’t wrong about that. Cousin Fethry had survived alone in a collapsing sea base for years. He knew the Junior Woodchuck guidebook from cover to cover, just as Huey did. He was better prepared than most to face trouble when it found him.

"Okay, I'll just make sure to write down all my observations about Mervana to share with him when he gets in touch."

Donald gave Huey a smile. "I'm sure he'll love that."

***

“Don’t call us, we’ll call you.”

It was an old refrain at this point.

The last job interview he had, Fethry had spent a full half-hour talking about the eating habits of krill and the merits of singing when asked about his team management skills.

The interview before that, he spoke briefly about the endless silence of the ocean when asked how he dealt with workplace difficulties. He’d been too quiet after that question.

And the interview before that… well, he didn’t think that room was ever going to be the same.

Fethry’s laptop was old. Wires were sticking out and duct tape was barely holding the screen together. He browsed through the listings for scientists on Quacked In, tweaking his cover letter and resume slightly for each.

Maybe he was going about this the wrong way. Maybe he should try for a slightly smaller position at a lab, like a custodian! He had experience keeping things in custody! And then he could work his way up from there.

But the little Donalds had such faith in him. They believed he could be a great scientist. Fethry wasn’t going to let them down. He never really realized until it was too late, but Fethry knew he had a habit of letting his family down.

Gladstone had offered to help, after that big event with purple people from the sky… ahh, yes, the invasion! But Fethry knew how often people tried to get close to his cousin to use his luck. Family shouldn’t do that.

The next listing didn’t quite catch his eye. But Fethry was at the point of applying for everything that came up for “scientist” and read through what little there was.

“WANTED: Skilled scientists for private company in Duckburg. Duties will vary. Flexible work schedule, late nights occasionally required. Must be able to roll with the punches.”

He had no expectations that it would progress to a job offer. How he chose to look at was that he was doing really well on reaching his goal of 100 job rejections. He’d read all about re-framing your objectives for positivity!

Once he reached 100, well, he might as well try for 200 rejections then.

He reviewed his resume and cover letter on the final submission screen. He clicked “Send.”

Then he moved onto the next listing and thought no more of it.

***

F.O.W.L.’s computer settings were extremely sensitized when it came to tracking the movements and activities of the Duck-McDuck clan. They knew when Hubert Duck received a new merit badge, or when Dewford Duck uploaded another video to his overlooked Insta, or when Llewellyn bought a soda that wasn’t Pep branded.

Any diversion from or progress in the Duck’s family’s normal routine could be significant. That’s why they monitored it all.

So when a member of the Duck family applied for one of their vacant positions, it got noticed. Alarms went off, alerting the highest-ranking members in F.O.W.L. command.

Just ten minutes after the application was received, Bradford clicked through it on his laptop.

F.O.W.L. could just ignore this. Stay away from the Duck family until they were more ready to move out in the open. It would be a sensible move.

But there was potential here he couldn’t overlook.

Fethry Duck was one of the harder members to track ever since the McDuck SubLab crumbled into an undersea abyss. Satellite images last had him riding some sort of kaiju across the ocean, which was just typical when it came to the Duck-McDuck family.

When the moon invaders came they had made many mistakes, such as caring more about the acknowledgment of their perceived superiority than how they could exploit the Earth. But they had been right that it was better to have all members of that family accounted for when it came to global-scale plans.

Having Fethry under constant watch at F.O.W.L. would leave Gladstone as the most transient variable. And the lottery winnings and sweepstakes prizes he left in his wake would make him infinitely easier to track.

Fethry was also one of the more controllable members of the Duck family. Neither misfortune nor ostentatious fortune dogged his steps. He didn’t question intention and he didn’t try to stir up trouble for his amusement. He was so lacking in ambition that he stayed in a lonely janitorial position for almost five years. If he was taken to a lab and given every reason to stay, he likely would do so without seeing anything amiss.

His goal was to steal the world right out from under Scrooge. Why not start by stealing a member of the man’s family? One Scrooge was unlikely to miss for quite some time, given his avoidance of Fethry’s company.

Yet for a duck who didn’t believe in handouts, it said something that Scrooge still cared enough about Fethry to give him a string of jobs that he more or less performed adequately. He’d prefer it not come to threats, especially since harm to his family made Scrooge predictably savage. But if worse came to worse… better to have a hostage than do without.

And if he was useless? Disposing of him would be no hardship.

He clicked “Accept” and composed a brief response, suggesting a range of times that Fethry could visit a front location in downtown Duckberg.

After opening up the email and reading through it, Fethry squealed and picked out the earliest possible time.

***

Fethry hummed as he walked inside the address the email gave him. It was a plain building, notable only for its pristine white exterior that seemed all too blank.

He’d dressed up nice for the occasion. His red jacket was replaced with a slightly frayed and browned business suit jacket. His tie was a piece of dried kelp that Mitzy had picked out for him. She always had the best eye when it came to kelp. And his cap was still present, keeping his thoughts toasty warm!

Yet his throat felt clogged and simultaneously too dry. The papers in his hand would be wrinkled if he clutched them any tighter. There was a heavy feeling in his chest that told him he’d be out of here soon enough, and he would need to try his luck elsewhere.

A duck with a dirty face and ruffled hair sat behind the visitor’s desk. Her name tag read “Ample.”

He approached her without his usual bounce. “Hello, I’m here for an interview.”

She nodded and glanced through the schedule. “Fethry Duck?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

“The director is ready to see you now. Go through the double doors over there.”

He dipped forward in an awkward half-bow, unsure if a handshake would be too presumptuous. “Thank you!”

He pushed his way through the double doors. The room was in grey shadow, a large desk slightly off toward one of the corners. Two chairs were in front of the desk, facing the figure behind it.

The shadows slightly obscured the person behind the desk. He could make out a shape but no features.

The shadow turned to him. “Ah, thank you for coming. Please take a seat.”

Fethry grabbed one of the chairs, shifting his paper copy of his resume as he looked at his interviewer up close.

Oh, he knew this vulture! He worked with Uncle Scrooge before! His name was buzzing around in the back of Fethry’s skull, waiting to be grabbed hold of…. what was it, what was it…?

“Bradley!”

“It’s Bradford,” he corrected in a cold tone.

Fethry slumped back in his seat, feeling small. “O-oh, I’m sorry.”

Bradford did not take the time to acknowledge what he said. He sat “So, Fethry Duck. Scrooge’s nephew.”

“Yes.”

“You hold no degrees, no certifications that would qualify you for a scientific position.”

“... no.” Fethry knew how much those pieces of paper meant to people. He sunk into his chair, almost wishing it could swallow him up, the way the ocean did…

...and that was not a train of thought he needed to be boarding right now. Fethry stepped off a mental platform, letting it whiz by.

Bradford continued, neither noticing nor caring about Fethry’s inner world and its struggles. “And yet, you thought you could apply here, for a scientific position with us.” He stood up and started to circle around Fethry. “Do you know what we do here, Fethry?”

“Science?”

“Among other things.” Bradford paused behind Fethry. Fethry couldn’t quite bring himself to turn and look at him. “What we do here... let’s just say we're out to change the world.”

Bradford resumed his circle and came to a stop in front of Fethry. He let silence reign for a few seconds before speaking. “And Fethry Duck? We’re willing to give you the chance to join our ranks.”

Fethry had to swallow down dry disbelief. “Really?”

“Yes.”

Fethry’s hands were clammy as he held out his stacks of papers. His grip wasn’t shaking, but his limbs felt hollow. “You don’t even want to look at my resume first?”

“I’ve already seen it.”

He let his arms fall to his sides. His voice came out small, as if he was once again speaking from the bottom of the ocean. “Why me?”

Silence returned. Bradford considered him over his beak.

“You’re the unnoticed member of the Duck-McDuck family. Isn’t it time you had a chance to prove yourself?”

Bradford wasn’t wrong. He wanted that chance. But the implication that he was only getting this job because of his family...

Well. Wasn’t that how he got every job he ever had?

Bradford turned away from him and loomed his way back behind his desk. “Mind you, the job still isn’t much. You’ll be working in a lab on your own projects, yes. But you will remain under direct supervision for the time being. Before undertaking any venture, you are to submit a full report that outlines expected costs and outcomes, in accordance with our guidelines.”

He sat down, his back hunched to allow him to continue looming from a lower height. “The pay is minimum wage, but you can work your way up through experience. Food and board will be provided on-site, so that’s two fewer things you have to worry about.”

Fethry absent-mindedly fiddled with his kelp tie, his attention otherwise on Bradford as he continued.

“As you may have surmised, your work is to be considered top secret. For the time being, we will ask that you remain in the facilities to better learn your responsibilities. There is to be no contact with the outside world without prior approval. Otherwise, you put ourselves and the work we do at risk.”

“If you accept the job under these terms, a car will be dispatched to pick up you and any belongings you choose to bring tomorrow morning.” Bradford steepled his fingers and looked through Fethry. “Do you accept these conditions?”

Fethry had forgotten he hadn’t said yes to anything yet. He wasn’t sure how he got so caught up that he missed that.

He could bring his team with him, their jar was extremely portable. But taking this job would mean saying goodbye to Mitzy for a while… hopefully, she would understand.

He nodded, then said for emphasis, “Yes.”

“Well, then. Welcome, Fethry Duck, to…” Bradford paused again, his words trailing off into familiar silence. “... well, we’ll just call it your new place of work.”

***

There wasn’t a whole lot to do at their headquarters between missions. The funnest thing to do around here was to play all the arcade games after the kids had gone home for the day.

However, the last time Steelbeak did that he blew an entire paycheck and ended up with only 20 tickets to show for it—not even enough to trade-in for a piece of candy. That didn’t make him stupid, that made the games rigged.

Now he stuck to the actual secret parts of their secret lair, wandering the halls. His wallet stayed full and fat, but the time between missions dragged on and on.

The gun course was fun, but there was only so much offtime an agent was allowed there. Spend too much time shooting things and command would send you over to their quack shrink.

The rec room was okay, but he’d be fighting every off-duty Eggman there if he wanted to pick which channel to watch on the sole TV. Not that he wouldn’t win, but his time in the prison rec room, and the underground fighting ring’s rec room before that, taught him that victory wasn’t worth it if you couldn’t find any good shows playing.

Which is how he often ended up doing what he did right now, trailing after Heron down to the labs. He’d watch her and watch the other scientists, trying to see how what they did tied into F.O.W.L.’s big ol’ villain schemes.

Did he always understand what she was working on? No. Did she ever really try to explain it in an easily understood way? Also no. Did these trips to the labs often end with her metal hand clamped around his beak, hissing at him and calling him names? No, well, yes. Yes, it did.

… he was supposed to be going somewhere with this, but he wasn’t quite sure where. Wait, no, now he remembered.

If he wanted to someday be the one hatching the schemes, he should watch how others hatched theirs first. It was like watching the prizefighter in the ring to learn how to beat him. Some people would only hit you if you asked them for anything, so you had to watch how they did something instead.

Most of the other scientists ignored him, and he didn’t pay them much attention either. But today, a duck in a red hat waved at them as he and Heron stepped inside the lab.

“Oh, hello! I’m Fethry!” The lab coat he was wearing hung loosely on him, clearly meant for a slightly larger bird.

“O-kaaay...?” Why was he expected to care?

A grin was spreading across Heron’s face as she looked the duck up and down. Then she turned her gaze to Steelbeak as she gestured offhandedly at the duck. “Fethry is our new marine specialist. He’ll be working on some of our most important projects.”

Heron… sounded like she was trying to hold back a laugh. What, was this smart guy really good at the jokes? Or did he know a party trick or two?

And what kind of name was Fethry? Might as well have called him “Webby” since he had webbed feet.

“Say, Fethry?” He knew that tone of voice from Heron. He didn’t always know the details of what she was saying, but he knew the sweetly sharpened tone was meant to cut someone down to size.

He felt… lighter, watching that tone be aimed at someone who wasn’t him. Like he was actually in on the joke for once. He also felt the urge to move to safer ground.

Heron’s smile was wide as she continued. “Why don’t you explain to my partner, Steelbeak, what you’re working on? He loves to hear about scientific experiments in great detail. Especially if you use a lot of long words.”

Okay, maybe he was still part of the joke.

Fethry’s eyes widened—he didn’t even know it was possible for someone to widen their eyes like that until Fethry did. “I’d love to!”

“Great!” Heron said in a passable imitation of Fethry’s enthusiasm. Under her breath she added, “Maybe now I can get some real work done.”

Steelbeak’s jaw tightened as she walked away. He refocused his gaze on the red-capped duck, who was all but jumping in place.

A snort escaped him as he sat down at a table. At least if this pipsqueak tried to clamp his beak, he could just knock him into next week.

“So what are you working on?” This was still more exciting than watching the walls, after all.

Fethry laughed nervously. It had been a while since anyone paid him a significant amount of attention. “Well, at the moment I’m just filling out the request paperwork. But I’m hoping to start an experiment on delaying the eating habits of the crown of thorns starfish.”

“The what?”

“Crown of thorns starfish. It eats coral.”

“And that is?”

“Coral is like…” Fethry scratched his head. He could never remember all the big words like polyps, sessile, and Anthozoa when he needed to. “It’s like skeletons scattered across the seafloor that fish live in.”

“Really? So fish just decide to live in dead bodies.” Sounded fake, but at least it wasn’t boring.

“Well, coral is a skeleton, but it’s also alive. It’s really bad when they do die.”

“So the fish live in alive dead bodies.” This Fethry guy was talking an interesting sort of crazy.

“Skeletons, yes. Called coral. Only these sea stars eat the coral, so the fish have no place to live then.”

“Now, these sea stars start off eating algae. It’s been called the grass of the sea,” he explained before Steelbeak even had to ask. Fethry’s beak scrunched up. “Though I have to say, grass usually tastes much better.”

“How long it takes for the sea stars to go from algae to coral varies. And there’s a lot of these starfish in the ocean. If they made the switch all at once, they could do a lot of damage.”

Huh. For the guy’s first project, it had the makings of a decent scheme. “So… if you could figure out how to make them do it, you could have them eat the fish out of house and home?”

Fethry actually nodded at that. “Or if I could figure out a way to slow it down, I could buy time for the reefs to grow.”

“...huh.” He actually followed most of that. Sure in his mind, coral reefs had a lot more skulls than they normally did. But he got the gist of what Fethry was talking about.

Black Heron hummed as she worked without interruption. Fethry calculated the costs of feeding and housing a small colony of starfish, making sure to show his work. And Steelbeak imagined blackmailing a fishing village with an army of sea stars. Small potatoes when it came to true villainy, but everyone had to start somewhere.

***

It wasn’t one of Heron’s longer science sessions. She tapped at some keys, read some screens, fiddled with some gadgets, and was ready to leave in a couple of hours.

Fethry had remained in the lab, drawing up plans for a sea star’s dream home. They’d need plenty of walking room, he’d said, so he was drawing up little pathway designs. Including one for a yellow brick road.

He started to reach out a hand to Steelbeak… for what, Steelbeak wasn’t sure. His body tensed in defense.

And Fethry must have noticed because he let his hand drop to his side and just smiled instead. “Thanks for listening. I know I kind of ramble.”

Steelbeak waited a few seconds to be sure that Fethry wasn’t going to make any sudden moves. Then he gave a shrug and followed Heron out.

It hadn’t been a hardship. Listening to weird undersea stuff passed the time. It was like catching a documentary on TV, without the meatheads that would grab the remote from you and change the channel to something else.

Black Heron laughed at Fethry as soon as they left the lab. "That guy," was all she managed to say before chuckles overtook her.

Steelbeak scowled. “What? What did he say that was so funny?” Was he the butt of someone else’s joke again? He'd make him go splat, if so.

Heron regained control of herself, but she was still grinning. “He didn’t have to say anything. It’s comical that he’s even here.”

The scowl receded and his brows knit in confusion. “I don’t —”

“You don’t get it, I know. Lucky for you, I’m in a good enough mood to explain. He’s Scrooge McDuck’s nephew. You remember, the guy you were supposed to get out of the arcade?”

“The big guy who wrecked one of my suits?”

“Ugh, no! He was the one wearing a top hat.” A frown flitted across her face, but her good mood was quick to reassert itself. Past failure meant little in the face of such a hilarious triumph.

“He came to us, wanting a job. He has no idea that we’re F.O.W.L. and no idea that we’re working against everything his family stands for. We’re holding him hostage, and he has no clue.” Another peal of laughter escaped Heron.

Steelbeak let out a chuckle as well, now that he was finally in on the joke. "Ahh, I get it. Classic dum-dum. What kind of idiot doesn't know who they're working for?"

The grin on Heron’s face slipped slightly.

"This should go without saying, but I know you so I'll say it anyway. Do not tell Fethry any details of your work, your missions, what we do here. Nada. Nothing."

"Well, duh. I know that. That's why they're called secret missions."

"Steelbeak, I once saw you brag about being a secret agent at a bar to try and get a date."

"And why not! They were cute!"

“And you wonder why your recreational leave is so limited.”

“What?”

“I’m saying dumb boys don’t get a lot of outdoors time.”

“Hey!”

A smirk moved across her face before she continued. “The director wants him to remain utterly oblivious, so secrecy is of the utmost importance. He’s not going to be happy if we have to lock him up or kill him for knowing too much.”

Steelbeak did not reach for his beak. He did not feel the slight dents that remained from trying to punch his own mouth open. “And we’re not just locking him up now, why?”

“Because the Ducks are easiest to manage when they think a situation is within their control!” Her voice was raised as decades of thwarted ambitions seeped into her tone.

Steelbeak was unimpressed. He could get just as angry, and he hadn’t needed years to get to that point.

“And what if he does ask what I do here?”

“Why would he ask? You’re hardly about to engage him in some deep conversation, are you?”

He couldn’t quite meet her eyes for some reason. “Well, no, but…”

“Oh, for larceny’s sake. If it does come up and you can’t avoid answering the question, just make something up. You’re an agent, do some lying.”

“... yeah, of course. I can do that.”

***

It doesn’t really sink in until later that night, back in his room, how Fethry answered all his questions without calling him, “Stupid.”

#ducktales #fethsteel #fethry duck #cousin fethry #steelbeak

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jefferyryanlong · 5 years ago

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Fresh Listen - The Squids, The Squids (Bankshots Music, Inc. and Oto-Songs, Inc., 1981) and Duganopacalypse Now (A Fan Compilation, circa 1981)

(Some pieces of recorded music operate more like organisms than records. They live, they breathe, they reproduce. Fresh Listen is a periodic review of recently and not-so-recently released albums that crawl among us like radioactive spiders, gifting us with superpowers from their stingers.)

The first band I ever loved was the Beatles, and John Lennon was dead years before I had any idea of who they were. It wasn’t until Kurt Cobain died that I had any interest in Nirvana--I recall an eighth grade classmate looking at mw with contempt after I told them I was unfamiliar with their music, when “Smells Like Teen Spirit” was already an MTV hit. The chemical composition of my brain was dissolved and reconstituted over the course of two weeks when, at twelve years old, I watched One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest and Cool Hand Luke on late-night television, but both films were about twenty years old by then. I just heard of Herbie Hancock’s V.S.O.P. album, featuring Freddie Hubbard, Wayne Shorter, Ron Carter, and Tony Williams, about two weeks ago. I’m 42 years old now and I’ve only just come to realize how cutting and prescient Claude McKay’s novel Banjo is.

All this to say that I wish I’d been around when Honolulu’s The Squids were playing around town. (Much thanks to Roger and Leimomi from Aloha Got Soul for pointing me in the right direction.) The Squids were so odd and varied, a New Wave outfit with the muscularity and venom of the truest punk rock, able to invoke the B-52′s in the same gig as Talking Heads or the Ventures or the Specials, all with the same veracity, but much weirder and crueler. They married a sunny, breezy synth sound with an aesthetic that I can only describe as joyously psychopathic, spraying smart-ass malice on the unfortunate subjects of their songs.

Though the band only officially released a 7-inch EP in 1981 (currently unavailable on Amazon) Comrade Motopu, the mysterious archivist who, through digitized vinyl and cassette tapes, as well as donated photos, scanned liner notes, flyers and news releases, has painstakingly agglomerated Hawai‘i rock music and associated miscellany on a magnificent pre-Y2K looking website, has not only shared the Squids’ EP (featuring “Tourist Riot,” “‘Love Theme’ From Surfer Boy,” “In,” and “Rio”), but what is also listed as Duganopacalypse, a fan compilation with even more twisted tunes: “Medicine,” “Sexy,” “Head in the Sand,” the ska-soaked “New Girl in Town,” their partially awful, mostly spectacular “Cool Clear Water,” and “Pretty Vacant (with Dugan),” the Never Mind the Bullocks classic with a seemingly hated fan on the inarticulate vocals. I only pray that Comrade Motopu continues documenting this underhand era of Pacific rock music of the late Seventies to early Nineties--the site is a treasure, and more words about the bands highlighted on comrademotopu.com (the Vacuum and Yahweh’s Mistake, for instance) will be coming soon.

The Squids began as a concept by guitarist Beano Shots in 1979, later to take shape as a full-fledged human/cephalopod music group with members Kit and Gerry Ebersbach, Dave Trubitt, and Frank Orall. Those of us who sweatily flailed our way through a booze-and-drug bender on the strobe-lit (at least, as it appeared then) dance floor of the Wave Waikiki between the hours of 2 AM and 4 AM when all the other bars closed down would be surprised to learn that the now-demolished former nightclub, a hub for the scraped-out, after-hours husks operated by the residual combustion of chemicals in their blacked-out reptilian brains, once hosted the edgy Squids as the house band, presumably when the going-out crowd still had an affinity for fun, strong music, and did not simply seek to propel themselves upon the the mechanized beats and soulless zombie tracks initiated by a faceless button masher, in hopes that they would be manipulated, by the end of the night, into some loveless fuck with a nobody.

Of the Squids’ stage show, we have but one recorded example of the band live in concert: a faithful interpretation of the Sex Pistols’ “Pretty Vacant,” in which the players serve as back-up band for a loyal heckler known only as “Dugan.” Having taken (jokingly) enough shit from Dugan, the band harasses him into sing-shouting the song. The performance captures the “fuck you” sentiment of “Pretty Vacant” with a primitive abandon that almost makes the original seem like a Monkees’ tune. It also portrays a punk rock scene less enlightened to the diverse lifestyles it later engendered, when “dick sucking” was applied exclusively as a pejorative.

The same pissed-off adrenalin leads off the the 1981 EP in “Tourist Riot,” an apocalyptic narrative of that species of traveler compelled to hammer a new experience into a predetermined mold that will establish an appropriate backdrop to their social media posts. The tourists here burn hotels and smash out windows when their expectations aren’t suitably met--a bad vacation in which they are pushed around and mistreated leads the tourists to murder and mayhem.

“Tourist Riot” lays out the Squids’ music aspirations right away, especially in the interplay between Beano Shots’s electric guitar and Kit Ebersbach’s keyboards, which morph from forbidding electronic warning tones to psychedelic ghost notes to the replicated sirens of a city on fire, collateral damage in a war between locals and tourists. Following a surprisingly effective bridge that concludes with a shouted “Fuck it, I’m going to New York City!” is an atonal guitar solo reminiscent of Nels Cline asleep at the wheel, redeemed by a more fluid keyboard exploration.

When Jimi Hendrix claimed that “you’ll never hear surf music again” in 1967, he was, through the example of his own transcendent playing on “Third Stone from the Sun,” burying the corpse of that elementary, improvisationally unimaginative rock instrumental with the axe with which he had slew it. To that end, after hearing Jimi Hendrix and all the musical manifestations that took shape from his cosmic residue, it is sometimes hard to take surf music seriously. “‘ Love Theme’ from Surf Boy” comes across as the Squids’ winking parody of the genre, with its reverb, its whammy, its overall melancholy, and its simplicity. That said, there is some sophistication in the song’s structure, as if the wordless tune was more an exercise in technique, an attempt to take stock creatively before reaching out to a farther and stranger place.

On “In,” the guitars and keyboards snarl rabidly toward the same explosive destination, barely kept in check by the talents of the players. Lyrically minimalist, the song’s non-sequiturs slice through the instruments like assembled cut-up style by William S. Burroughs. “Are you losing sense of humor, could be Jesus was only kidding” followed by “are you losing sense of humor, could be Jesus was just a salesman.” These pieces of thoughts unfinished resonate in my head like something close to catchy--to what end, I don’t know. Where the keyboards overmatched the guitars on “Tourist Riot,” on “In” the guitar is locked in and dirty, climaxing in repetitive harmony between the instruments to close out the song.

When I first read the track listing to the 1981 EP, I thought the final song “Rio” would be a rough rendering of the hit video single by near-contemporaries Duran Duran (whose synth-guitar arrangements, though undoubtedly smoother, find relation in the Squids’ overall aesthetic). Instead, “Rio” is an acid commentary on the American Capitalist, represented as a white suit soaked in sweat, and his compulsion to foster vice and iniquity to exotic locales.

I’m not sure whether the fan compilation Duganopacalypse, also available for listening through the Comrade Motopu website, was recorded before, after, or during the sessions of the 1981 EP. A few tracks lead me to believe that the songwriting and arrangements are from a wiser, more sophisticated band, while other songs seem so apelike in their imitations as to come through as pointless satires, or maybe the explorations of a band trying to find its identity.

In “Medicine,” for instance, the Squids operate under an overpowering B-52′s filter that washes out their uniqueness. Whereas on previous tracks this influence existed only at the fringes of their sound, the singer on “Medicine” channels Fred Schneider on the verse and switches to David Bowie during the bridge. The role-play, though, doesn’t kill the the more interesting aspects of “Medicine”--its guitar lick is inventive and so wormy as to be slightly irritating, and the song’s themes, that one must willingly imbibe “the medicine” to accept the hypocrisies of this “downer world,” resound strongly to anyone who casts their eyes around a crowded room.

Where the B-52′s references go deep in “Medicine,” Talking Heads emerge in “Sexy,” from David Byrne’s vocal tics to the subtle and swampy “Take Me to the River” vibe. It goes beyond straight homage to cover band territory, but it does emphasize the band’s technical ability to lock into a groove. “New Girl in Town” is a heaping serving of not-completely-warmed-up ska leftovers, a bit misogynist (of its time, but still). “Head in the Sand,” regrettably, could have been the Squids’ crossover pop hit. I say “regrettably” because, even though the song has a point--that the ability of humans to maintain a semblance of happiness is to carefully cultivate the warm fuzz of obliviousness, sacrificing will to fate in the belief that nothing we could do to change anything would matter anyway--the effort seems more calculated than organic, a plastic approximation of the closest this band, given their specific set of skills, could get to a pop crossover hit. The work put into it seems to drain away at some of the dirty magic. It‘s self-conscious in a way that the other songs aren’t.

Finally we have “Cool Clear Water,” what would have been the band’s masterpiece if they’d spent a little more time recording a decent take (the version on the Duganopacalypse almost sounds live, though it could have been laid down in a rehearsal space). This is not the country classic performed by Marty Robbins and Johnny Cash. The Squids’ “Cool Clear Water” is the frightening confession of a soldier recently returned from the war in Vietnam, directed by an angel spirit to mass murder with a shotgun from a tower in town. When the killer is set to be executed, the angel spirit comforts him, tells him his spirit will be redeemed in heaven for “setting the people free.” The unnerving subject matter of “Cool Clear Water” is given sinister shape by the relentless horror-notes of Kit Ebersbach’s organ, the guitar holding down the song’s march toward inevitable nothingness because the bass (normally played with elan by Gerry Ebersbach) is a complete mess (I’m not sure if she hadn't learned the song or if she just showed up at the gig drunk).

As Marc Maron frequently says on his podcast, “there’s no late to the party” anymore, given the the amount of content available to all of us via the digital consciousness that we are now more plugged into than not. But I’ve waited all my life to lose myself in something vital, of the moment, with my eyes and ears and heart present while the thing is taking shape, at its most temporal. I feel that way listening to the Squids. I wish I could have seen them at one of their Wave gigs. I wish I could have had a beer with them afterward, and gushed in the embarrassing way I do about things I love.

#freshlisten #thesquids #honolulu #1981ep

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bludraws094 · 1 year ago

Text

Nah, I'm just fuckin' with ya

Whattup, motherfuckers!

Ya ever seen anyone lose their mind on-mic?

Well come on in grab a seat grab a cuppa

And watch the chook bat his third strike

Come one, come all to the extravaganza

The cacophonous callousness the

Coop of stanza there's so much here to see

So have a gander

And meet your poultric pullet commander

The coward in question? By now

You know him so well

But then, who am I to go and cluck and tell?

Instead, I'll instil this tetherous will

To trot and toil inside my personal hell

Sisyphus: his rock the timepiecе: it's tock

And Winston trudges through

Minitrue's minutiae

And likе an archaic cuckoo clock

I'll chirp, and chant, and cock

In complete disregard for my future

So enjoy the show

Especially those in the splash zone

Place your bets let's see how

Fierce the auction gets

Can you tell me what on

Earth I'm supposed to do

When you tell me one and

One cannot equal two?

If Mr Sun can't shine, nor can Mr Moon

And yet each day that passes has

This tension boil and stew

So forgive the effrontery

But I must beg you to humble me

And throw this Pavlov dog another bone

It's a fair hike, you see

That peak we call prosperity

And this bard is in dire need of a loan

Naught I'm but a man and sad although I am

I'm really trying my hardest to move forward

So when we come back here again

And the start becomes an end

Consider this lamentation a foreword

Singing songs you like to hear

'til the dissonance reappears

There's probably subtext

Are you picking it up?

It's a metaphor for ha

Who gives a fuck i'm in a cage

Subvert the expected to avert stagnation

But if you rely on that diversion

Subversion is expectation

And the whole damn point

Of this experimentation

Was to avoid that homogenization

So please

Tell me what the hell I'm supposed to be

When the total sum of me really equals three

Amalgamate, hate

Berate 'til we all roam free?

When in reality we know we'll be

Condemned to rinse and repeat

There's a me stuck underground

A me left on the shelf

A me that gets paraded: the me

That's shown to everyone else and sure

I lament the lack of a hen to

Share with in sick or in health

But how am I supposed to love

Another when I barely know myself?

I'm the enlightened! I am the free!

We're the despited we are the freak

A soliloquy this be

Before the scene you came to see

The peak before the lethargy

Escalate, escalate don't fall

Don't hesitate

Don't let the other half take control

And when push comes to shove

In this dual, dead, dueling love

We'll see if you can truly be whole

And who will pay the toll?

The Heart, the Mind or the Soul?

Oh, baby, you you know what I need

I think it's obvious: a captive audience

Who will refuse to properly see

The man behind the lines

The triplicated lines

No, baby, you you're not what I need

I don't need a helping hand

That's hidden in the sand

No, baby, you can't help me be free

It's painful to admit

But even I can see through my bullshit

One time they tried to sing to me

About blues and greens the in betweens

But mechanical hands decided where the

Heart would be: just apathy

I had been trying for years

And for years that streamed

To thrive, and relish entropy

But when he finally shot at me

Lines once solid were blurred

And right as he (I) missed, my eyes in a mist

I finally realized I shot at myself

The reflection of the else

The disconnection the side of the

Coin at once withheld

You know we've

Been here before, and will be once more

When we trip on the line that we toe

When we slip off the vine that's regrown

And when we fall into the darkness below

That's when we'll know

That we are stuck in between, in indemnity

The indomitable weather

Of opposites with no regard for time

No reason behind their rhyme

Slow, patternly, is the melody

That he's stringing together

But they have time enough to

Spend some time alone all alone

All alone all alone

since i have more followers now

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art124spring2019 · 6 years ago

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Week 8 - Industrial Design

German Immigrants and Degrees of Assimilation

I was browsing a Watertown, WI antique shop with my daughter. The first floor was crowded with displays and shoppers, so we fled upstairs. The second story was devoted to used books and records, but was also uncrowded and quiet, so we looked around. I was startled to notice words in German painted on one of the brick walls. Not graffiti, but a sign. The name Clara Weiss was clearly rendered in slightly feminized block letters with gently trailing serifs on the left side of each capital a. Beneath the name was a German word I couldn’t quite make out, even though I speak some German. The problem was that the script was true Fraktur, or broken script. I recognized it from the descriptions and examples of Blackletter in our text book (Eskilson, 2012, p. 126, but that didn’t help me decipher it. What struck me was that this was an authentic German sign, intended to be read by German speakers. In Wisconsin we often see what I think of “gentle” German script. It looks calligraphic and invokes a Europe of bygone days, yet it lacks the aggressive downstrokes, spikiness and ligatures that characterize Fraktur. On the opposite side of Main Street from Clara Weiss there is a mural celebrating the German heritage of the city that uses this alternative lettering to declare “Wilkommen in Watertown”. It struck me that the sign in the antique shop wall was sending a specific message to both the German patrons of the shop and to the non-German population. We are Germans here, and this shop is operated the German way. If you are not German, maybe it is not the right shop for you; we are not making accommodations. I took a photo of the sign and decoded it when I got home. The mystery word was Putzgeschaft or milliner. I searched online for more information and discovered that the Clara Weiss Millinery was operating in Watertown from about 1890, and the building was constructed for that concern[1].

The German population in Watertown could afford to be exclusive, because they were so numerous[2]. They were resistant to the isolation and marginalizing that can happen to smaller populations of immigrants. The latter may be what fosters the type of assimilation practiced by immigrants like my grandfather William Behm. William was born in Germany in 1896 and came to the US as a teenager with his twin brother and a sister. He did not join a large, established German population, but lived a quiet rural life occupied by farming and trapping. By the time he was an adult, he had fully adopted English and was never heard to use German in daily activities. My Grandmother Mildred was also fully German, and the two could easily have conversed in German, but they didn’t. None of their ten Children learned the language and, aside from some family photos, there were no items from Germany in their home. They practiced a “full immersion” assimilation that completely exchanged their German identities for American, though there is some evidence that they may have quietly attended church services occasionally conducted in German. It is instructive in divisive times to reflect on these diverse patterns of assimilation. Where immigrants make up large majorities of a population, they are likely to congregate and nurture the speech and traditions of their homeland, and to work actively to preserve and share their culture. We established Americans need to stop seeing this as a threat and appreciate different ways. Germans in Watertown brought their traditions of early childhood education in the form of Kindergarten, and their love of singing and cultural performances, which, in time became Watertown Turnverein and later Turner Opera House which still stands[3].

As I looked for design observations in Week 8, I was strongly influenced by the German propaganda poster shown on Eskilson (2012) p. 269. The text, rendered in Fraktur, compels citizens to “kauft Deutsche Ware” or buy German goods, so I captured images of items and places from or related to Germany. I was surprised that I could not find anything marked “made in Germany”, even items that I purchased in that country. I couldn’t help but think of my grandfather shedding his German-ness as he became American. Besides the Eskilson text, my observations included:

--The wall sign for Clara Weiss, Putzgeschaft

--A sign advertising the site of the first Kindergarten in America

--Turner Hall in Watertown, WI, which began as the Watertown Turnverein, a German social and cultural organization

--“Wilkommen in Watertown”, a mural celebrating the city’s German heritage featuring the “gentle German” script that has come to stand in for authentic Fraktur.

--St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church

Hints that my grandparents may have occasionally reconnected with their German past at their Lutheran Church:

--The stamp that embosses my father’s baptismal certificate from St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church—it reads “Ev. Luth. St. Johannes Gemeinde (German for St. John’s Parish) Lake Mills Wis” suggesting it might have offered services in German.

--One of several monuments in St. John’s cemetery that bears a German inscription, another suggestion that assimilated German Americans might have briefly engaged with their native culture and language in that setting.

--A bespoke hat and a cuckoo clock from the Bavaria region of Germany. No labels or inscriptions mark them as German, though I know that is their origin. Like my grandparents they have become American. The hat came from a millinery shop much like the Clara Weiss shop must have been. It was called Der Hutmacher, another German term for milliner.

[1] Wisconsin Historical Society, Wisconsin Architecture and History Inventory, "Merchants National Bank; Clara Weiss Building", "Watertown", "Jefferson", "Wisconsin", "76220".

[2] Watertown Historical Society (2018). Settlement. [online] Watertownhistory.org. Available at: http://www.watertownhistory.org/Articles/Settlement.htm [Accessed 16 Mar. 2019].

[3] WHS Library-Archives Staff (2009). A Brief History of Watertown | Wisconsin Historical Society. [online] Wisconsin Historical Society. Available at: https://www.wisconsinhistory.org/Records/Article/CS2389 [Accessed 16 Mar. 2019].

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lovefrommaira · 7 years ago

Photo

Today we're talking about loving your body, and self-acceptance. Grab a cuppa because this one is a little lengthy!

Young girls and women everywhere struggle with body image and general appearance, and it’s interesting to see that whilst we share similar stories in pursuing self-love, we do not share the same body type or facial features. I appreciate that our male counterparts can also find the teenage years and beyond a difficult time in this way too, so don’t worry, I see you!

It’s upsetting how so many of us can find it a challenge to marvel at someone else’s beauty, without downplaying our own. There is definitely no official guide of what is beautiful - beauty comes in all shapes, colours, and sizes, and is subjective; “…in the eyes of the beholder”. We also see this in the media, where although a certain trait or body type is celebrated, the standards are constantly changing (think slim-curvy, tweezed brows-natural brows) therefore we should not pay them as much attention as we may do but celebrate our diversity.

How can we achieve a more positive outlook on body image and external appearance?

First, I would make note that with all the pressures of today, it is not unusual to struggle with body image. You’re not the only one, and sometimes that can be comforting, but that does not take away from how important your own situation is.

Next, I think it’s important to highlight that there's only one you. We can do our very best to improve the way we look, but we can never become somebody else. Therefore, accept you for you. With that being said, accepting yourself doesn’t necessarily mean that you have to adore every single thing about yourself. I think some people fall victim to the misconception that if you ‘change’ something about yourself, you were unhappy with yourself and that’s not necessarily true. For example, I accept that I have some acne scarring although I’m not fond of them, however, I have the option to try reduce the appearance of these scars if I wish. If this does not work for me, that is okay, life goes on. I think It’s okay to have an ideal image for yourself. Another example is, my natural hair colour is very dark, and I have no problems with that. However, I tend to get it dyed to add some dimension and lighter colours. Despite this, I have showcased my natural colour too, feeling no less beautiful. The key here is, being okay with the way you already are, being allowed to have a preference, and doing things for yourself.

I bring myself to always try to see the positives. This is not easy, and this may have you sounding a little ‘cuckoo’ sometimes, but it helps a lot of people when they push themselves to see their perceived flaws from a different light. Scarring and stretch marks, for example, are just markings of your journey and experiences here on Earth. They can mark child birth, healthy weight gain, surgery success, a silly childhood moment. Some others may have a more traumatic backstory, and you have survived it.

I find that my friends or family have liked something about me that I did not see beauty in, and in the same way, I love certain features or things about people that they are surprised to hear.

All in all, there is something that you must remind yourself: our bodies are more than just the external. It is easy to forget this, as we are constantly exposed to our features and physique at every shop window and mirror we pass by. Our internal body does so much, every single moment, of every single day, to keep us alive in its complex ways. The least we could do is look after it, pamper it, and be thankful for it. It definitely does not deserve such harsh criticism. It’s also important to note that your mind is a powerful contributor to your beauty.

In the end, I have good days, and I have bad days. I guess a big reason for wanting to post this piece, lies in my own need to be reminded of the bigger picture every once in a while. This post was something I had saved on my laptop and read to myself several times now; it made me feel better when I was having one of those bad days, so maybe it can make someone else feel better too. If you have been struggling with loving your body, I hope this helps you in some way, and I wish you all the best in your journey to discovering self-love, acceptance, and confidence. :)

You may also enjoy: ♡ Relieving stress ♡ Mental health ♡ Pathways to Happiness

#life #self-love #love your body #you're beautiful #wellbeing

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jacobrosenthal · 7 years ago

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Hackaday Superconference Badge Hacking

At the Hackaday Superconference this year Blaine and I finally decided to try our hand at a conference badge puzzle. The cambadge was introduced a month before the conference with the source code following shortly after so you you could prepare hack ideas and even start prototyping shields and addons. In their words:

It’s a camera. It has games, and it’s designed by [Mike Harrison] of Mike’s Electric Stuff. He designed and prototyped this badge in a single weekend. On board is a PIC32 microcontroller, an OV9650 camera module, and a bright, crisp 128×128 resolution color OLED display.

There would be prizes for best hardware hack, best app hack and even a film fest prize. But most importantly, there was also a puzzle prize. The puzzle firmware was implemented by Mike Szczys with the ciphers being developed by Jeff Rosowski (Krux).

Navigating to the puzzle menu revealed three options in binary, 00, 01, 10.

00 was some graphical 'game', 01 appeared to be a reciting of the hacker's manifesto, and 10 was a ouija board. That's all the information we were given.

PUZZLE 00

We halfheartedly played with the 00 puzzle while trying to be social during the pre party and started to put together a ruleset. A green cursor could be moved around an 8x8 grid by tilting the accelerometer. One button seemed to ‘place’ a red circle under the cursor. Further placements that shared a row (vertically, horizontally or diagonally) would light up the row in orange.

This was presumably a failure scenario but it was puzzling that we still had control of the cursor. A very jetlagged Scotty from StrangeParts got six placements before giving it up and handing it back, suggesting to google it or write a script to solve it. We finally figured out the failure screen allows you to remove a failed placement and continue the game. This allowed us to put down a random six placements and continue taking back movements until we had all eight which went surprisingly quickly. In just a few minutes and roughly five take backs we had "Winner Winner!" printed on screen.

Suspiciously, the menu screen also now has a set of hieroglyphic symbols under the 00 menu item. In googling later, we’d find out later this is a Queens Puzzle and we got a bit lucky. Theres 92 possible solutions but our methodology is called iterative repair and does not guarantee a solution.

PUZZLE 10

We talked to John Dahan who won last year by using the strings command on the binary to find the success email to skip all puzzles. Strings is a common utility that prints all ascii characters it can find in a binary. We talked to Mike who said that wasn't going to work this year, but were were undeterred. Before even bothering to understand the puzzle ruleset we just started looking at the scrubbed source and production hex file. The source was definitely missing the puzzles, though we did get a dist folder with intact elf files. That could come in very handy and also means we don’t have to install MPLAB-X IDE ide to generate it myself. The .hex file was strange though. Generally .hex are intel hex format, ie ascii hex code representation with checksumming, but this was a binary. We wasted a bunch of time here remembering obj-copy stuff, only to realize we weren’t gaining anything and this was indeed a binary we could utilize as is. Running “strings Badge103.hex” output the results in this gist.

After entering eight letters into ouija board the screen reads “What was that?” and appears to tell you which letters you had right by “X”ing out incorrect letters.

This would be super easy in retrospect, but hacking was way more fun. We searched the strings list for “What was that” hoping to find any suspicious text around it.

$ strings Badge103.hex | grep -A 5 "What was that"

What was that?

HACKADAY

MARKUSHESS

None

Not found

Read Err

HACKADAY is indeed eight characters which when entered was answered with “The planchette moves by itself:” and the code “PNIRHJZYL GSIXDF WFDNXJF JH CZDRI.”

Too lazy to bother cracking the cipher we entered “MARKUSHESS.” Though we still have no idea how to crack this code, Markus was the hacker from Clifford Stoll’s The Cuckoo's Egg so we weren’t surprised to receive an egg image.

We were subsequently kicked back out to the puzzle menu now with more symbols.

PUZZLE 01

The puzzle consists of twenty-seven lines of the Hacker’s Manifesto where you must scroll each line left or right to read it on the tiny screen. For some reason the cursor always starts at the fourth line which seems odd. At the bottom there is a list of twenty-seven negative and positive numbers with a four alpha character input to presumably complete the puzzle.

It seems obvious that the list of numbers maps to the lines of the manifesto. We looked to see if aligning the rows might spell a question in far right or left column that we could answer with four characters, but couldn't see anything obvious.

It was a huge pain to click buttons and invariably the badge would turn off or we’d get distracted and lose our place. We glanced through the strings dump for anything that might make sense for puzzle 10, but didn't see anything this time. As the party was ending we spent time running down mysterious QR codes that showed up around the venue thinking they could be related somehow, but were thrown out before we could get more than a few.

Later we woudl find there was a (seperate) prize that unlocked on the badge if you scanned all ten of the mysterious QR codes sprinkled throughout the venues.

The next day we were bored looking at puzzles and wanted to do more reverse engineering. I've been looking for a reason to get better with Radare forever. Radare lets you snoop through binaries, disassemble them, rebuild the function graph, and even edit the code in place! So not unlike a crackme, we could presumably find the code that prints Winner, backtrace to find the branching instruction that decides success, and hardcode it to so that when we enter the game it gives us the winner screen. TLDR feel free to skip this section as we didn’t get anywhere, but we would love guidance to be better at this for the next conference.

HUGE DIVERSION AHEAD

Radare has a bit of a learning curve, as described by a slide from a recent talk from the founding developer, pancake.

We can open our binary file in Radare and analyze it for functions, printing the results.

$ r2 -a mips -e asm.bits=32 Badge103.hex

WARNING: bin_strings buffer is too big (0x02bf8a80). Use -zzz or set bin.maxstrbuf (RABIN2_MAXSTRBUF) in r2 (rabin2)

-- It's not a bug, it's a work in progress

[0x00000000]> aaa

[x] Analyze all flags starting with sym. and entry0 (aa)

[ ]

[aav: Cannot find section at this address

aav: Cannot find section at this address

[x] Analyze len bytes of instructions for references (aar)

[x] Analyze function calls (aac)

[ ] [*] Use -AA or aaaa to perform additional experimental analysis.

[x] Constructing a function name for fcn.* and sym.func.* functions (aan))

[0x00000000]> afl

0x00000000 1 16 fcn.00000000

[0x00000000]>

We should see a huge list of functions, but sadly we don’t. Earlier we found someone saved us having to install MPLAB-X IDE and we also have an unmangled elf to mess with.

$ r2 -a mips ~/Downloads/cambadge.X/dist/Normal/production/cambadge.X.production.elf

Warning: Cannot initialize dynamic strings

-- The unix-like reverse engineering framework.

[0x9d009000]> aaa

[x] Analyze all flags starting with sym. and entry0 (aa)

[ ]

[aav: using from to 0x9d000000 0x9d08b3f3

Using vmin 0x9d000000 and vmax 0xbfc00c00

aav: using from to 0x9d000000 0x9d08b3f3

Using vmin 0x9d000000 and vmax 0xbfc00c00

[x] Analyze len bytes of instructions for references (aar)

[x] Analyze function calls (aac)

[ ] [*] Use -AA or aaaa to perform additional experimental analysis.

[x] Constructing a function name for fcn.* and sym.func.* functions (aan))

0x9d008180 1 16 sym._gen_exception

0x9d008200 44 1384 sym.__vector_dispatch_0

0x9d008220 43 1352 sym.__vector_dispatch_1

….

0x9d023cd8 1 8 sym._on_bootstrap

0x9d023ce0 1 8 sym._libc_private_storage

0xbfc00480 3 1908 sym.__DbgExecReturn

[0x9d009000]>

That’s what we’re supposed to see! We can even visualize a complete call graph.

But remember, we know this has all our puzzles stripped so there won’t be much to see here. What we want is this view in our puzzle inclusive binary. Why doesn't our binary ‘hex’ file load cleanly into Radare? Presumably the elf file has a bunch of debug info like sections and entry point (reset vector) to help set up Radare automatically which we don’t understand how to do manually. So how do we help it? In our production dist files we also have a .map file that has the function names and addresses in it. There we find the reset address

.reset 0x9d009000 0x1e4 484 Reset handler

And from cambadge.X.production.elf we can get the entry point(reset vector) to confirm

[0x9d009000]> ie

[Entrypoints]

vaddr=0x9d009000 paddr=0x00009000 baddr=0x9d000000 laddr=0x00000000 haddr=0x00000018 type=program

1 entrypoints

[0x9d009000]>

And we can print the hexdump of the binary code at that location

[0x9d009000]> px @ 0x9d009000

- offset - 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 A B C D E F 0123456789ABCDEF

0x9d009000 0224 400f 0000 0000 0060 1a40 c004 5a7f .$@......`[email protected].

0x9d009010 0500 4013 0000 0000 029d 1a3c a43c 5a27 ..@........<.<Z'

0x9d009020 0800 4003 0000 0000 01a0 1d3c f0ff bd27 ..@........<...'

0x9d009030 00a0 1c3c f07f 9c27 029d 083c d03c 0825 ...<...'...<.<.%

0x9d009040 09f8 0001 0000 0000 00a0 083c 1c00 0825 ...........<...%

0x9d009050 01a0 093c 5cea 2925 0600 0010 0000 0000 ...<\.)%........

0x9d009060 0000 00ad 0400 00ad 0800 00ad 0c00 00ad ................

0x9d009070 1000 0825 2b08 0901 f9ff 2014 0000 0000 ...%+..... .....

0x9d009080 029d 083c f8fb 0825 0000 098d 1800 2011 ...<...%...... .

0x9d009090 0400 0825 0000 0a8d 0400 0825 0000 0b8d ...%.......%....

0x9d0090a0 0900 6011 0400 0825 0000 0c91 ffff 4a25 ..`....%......J%

0x9d0090b0 0100 0825 0000 2ca1 fbff 4015 0100 2925 ...%..,...@...)%

0x9d0090c0 0500 0010 0000 0000 0000 20a1 ffff 4a25 .......... ...J%

0x9d0090d0 fdff 4015 0100 2925 0300 0825 fcff 0a24 ..@...)%...%...$

0x9d0090e0 2440 4801 0000 098d e7ff 2015 0000 0000 $@H....... .....

0x9d0090f0 0000 093c 0000 2925 1000 2011 0000 0000 ...<..)%.. .....

[0x9d009000]>

Back to our puzzle inclusive binary code, Let’s search for that reset vector bytecode “0224 400f” as that shouldn't have changed even with puzzles stripped out:

$ r2 -a mips -e asm.bits=32 Badge103.hex

[0x00000000]> /x 0224 400f

Searching 3 bytes in [0x0-0x2bf8a80]

0x00000e80 hit0_0 022440

0x00006d66 hit0_1 022440

0x000102ce hit0_2 022440

0x000191fe hit0_3 022440

0x00025466 hit0_4 022440

[0x00000000]> px @ hit0_0

- offset - 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 A B C D E F 0123456789ABCDEF

0x00000e80 0224 400f 0000 0000 0060 1a40 c004 5a7f .$@......`[email protected].

0x00000e90 0500 4013 0000 0000 039d 1a3c 9cd6 5a27 ..@........<..Z'

0x00000ea0 0800 4003 0000 0000 01a0 1d3c f0ff bd27 ..@........<...'

0x00000eb0 00a0 1c3c f07f 9c27 039d 083c c8d6 0825 ...<...'...<...%

0x00000ec0 09f8 0001 0000 0000 00a0 083c 3c00 0825 ...........<<..%

0x00000ed0 01a0 093c b0ea 2925 0600 0010 0000 0000 ...<..)%........

0x00000ee0 0000 00ad 0400 00ad 0800 00ad 0c00 00ad ................

0x00000ef0 1000 0825 2b08 0901 f9ff 2014 0000 0000 ...%+..... .....

0x00000f00 029d 083c d478 0825 0000 098d 1800 2011 ...<.x.%...... .

0x00000f10 0400 0825 0000 0a8d 0400 0825 0000 0b8d ...%.......%....

0x00000f20 0900 6011 0400 0825 0000 0c91 ffff 4a25 ..`....%......J%

0x00000f30 0100 0825 0000 2ca1 fbff 4015 0100 2925 ...%..,...@...)%

0x00000f40 0500 0010 0000 0000 0000 20a1 ffff 4a25 .......... ...J%

0x00000f50 fdff 4015 0100 2925 0300 0825 fcff 0a24 ..@...)%...%...$

0x00000f60 2440 4801 0000 098d e7ff 2015 0000 0000 $@H....... .....

0x00000f70 0000 093c 0000 2925 1000 2011 0000 0000 ...<..)%.. .....

[0x00000000]>

Found it! Maybe we can shift our 0x00000e80 address by 0x9D008180 so it becomes 0x9d009000 and Radare has more success analyzing functions? This is where we gave up though. Anyone reading this please reach out if you can help us understand Radare better for the next conference.

Back on track

A day lost, we went back to solving it the honest way -- sort of. Blaine wasn’t even an official attendee so we were having to share a badge. Since we were armed with the strings dump of the manifesto text and list of integes we turned to node to script something to print the columns so we could maybe see what we couldn’t see with our own eyes.

Still, nothing looked right and we went down a hundred other rabbit holes that didn't work out, all the while begging Krux and Mike for any guidance. Finally when the conference ceremony was just hours away Krux helped us find our script had an off by one error. With that fixed it turns out all this time a middle column read “realbunniehuanghardwarehack” Bunnie was perhaps first known for hacking the xbox. “Winner Winner!”

A Fourth Puzzle

Now we had a third set of hieroglyphs and “[email protected]”. To be fair we saw this email in the strings earlier, so we're pretty sure we'd be seeing it again. But what were these glyphs?

Several, especially the last one sure looks like unicode but we couldn’t find many of the rest. We spent a lot of time on that before asking Krux who didn't seem interested in that line of reasoning. We decided to do a transposition arbitrarily to the english alphabet just to play with the characters. Transposing the first character to a, and so one, we got “abcde fgahidjkclefg gmgce ccgcm nkeopfi” There were only 16 distinct 'letters', with c, g, and e being highest in frequency. However this tiny subset of text just doesn't lend to any kind of frequency analysis. We spent a lot of time thinking the spaces were useful and that “ccgcm” would be an odd word with double repeated starting letter. Llama didn’t seem likely, but you never know. We looked at brute forcing rot, morse and other symbol alphabets but didn’t come up with anything that worked before we finally ran out of time.

During the badge ceremony one other team had apparently also got this far and was awarded some cash for their efforts. Mike and Krux spoiled the last puzzle on stage, it's apparently the Commander Keen, Standard Galactic Alphabet. When translated it reads: “PRESTONPLUSWHEATONNINETEENEIGHTYFOUR” which is a Last Starfighter reference. Presumably emailing “Last Starfighter” to [email protected] would have won us the that sweet $256 prize.

Next time

Huge thanks to everyone involved at Superconference. It was a crazy lineup of amazing speakers. It was also awesome to see so much money given away to the Hackaday prize entrants I had been bumping into all weekend. Huge thanks to Mike and Krux for getting us to commit to a badge puzzle for the first time and for helping us through to the (very) end.

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