#demonstration 2024

[dustedmagazine]

Fan Club — Demonstration 2024 (Self-released)

Fan Club seems to be an aesthetic recalibration by the Seattle-based folks who have spent the better part of a decade making snotty hardcore under the unlikely name Lysol. Same folks, new sound. Listeners of that former band will already have heard some hints of more rawkin’ tendencies in their most recent output; check out “Sick as a Dog” from Lysol’s Soup for My Family (2021) or “Grease Paint” from the excellent Down the Street cassette (2023). Fan Club gathers up those retrograde and recalcitrant notions, coats them in Aqua Net and several layers of eyeliner — and whammo! There you have it: five tunes and seven minutes of glammy punk, a lot more Mott the Hoople than Minor Threat. And that’s a good thing.

We should be clear: Fan Club plays fast, and the songs are short. At just 89 seconds, “Sore Eyes” is the most sustained statement on Demonstration 2024. That’s hardcore-scaled stuff. But the guitar tone is equal parts nasty and flashy, and a song like “Hospital Beds” could have emerged from a 3 am jam session between Syl Sylvain and Cheetah Chrome. The title of “Sweet Nothin’” seems to nod toward the Velvets, and the lyrics aren’t far from sweet Lou’s most savage, speed-infused visions: “You got me gushing / My blood is rushing / Hear your sweet nothings / Because my needle’s in the red.” Gotcha—but which needle? And is that red stuff on the VU meter, or is it running up into the syringe?

Some of that symbolic play might seem a little cynical in these days of fentanyl-infused street dope and way-too-frequent overdose deaths. But there’s a historical dimension to Fan Club’s new tape that’s worth thinking through. Glam emerged in grim times, when the 1960s countercultures had collapsed, and the drugs got very, very serious. Heavy vibes for heavy times. Somehow, songs like the Sweet’s “Block Buster!” and T Rex’s “Metal Guru” emerged from that miserable morass, shining and full of ebullient melody.

2024’s version of socio-cultural bum-out feels like it has higher stakes, global in extent. Everything is running into the red: temperatures, politics, the speed of change. Fan Club’s rendition of glammed-up punk is proportionally harder, sharper and more dangerous. No ebullience in earshot, sorry, kids--but it’s still hugely satisfying. You’ll dance harder, in shorter bursts. Until it’s all over. All of it.

Jonathan Shaw

[imlittlebitdie]

So now in the latest saga of Lando Norris Trying to Make Me Hate Him, we have Lando *checks notes* being shitty towards other drivers that had heatstroke after Singapore.

First of all, someone should introduce rich boy to the idea of “class consciousness”. Instead of tearing down his fellow drivers for health issues after the race (that he implied he was also feeling), he should direct his ire to the people in charge.

Why not use the collective power they have as drivers to influence a change? That’s the entire reason for a driver’s union.

Why is he denigrating people’s health issues (which he is in no position to judge as he is not a medical professional), when instead he could be amplifying their experience and his own to call for change.

Lando sees other people suffering and says, “why do they get a free pass, I suffered too.” He sees their health being put at risk and he judges the driver and the team for looking out for them.

Max, his own best friend, told him “you don’t know what they’re going through.” And he doesn’t, Mercedes has been having a problem with their cockpit getting too hot even before Singapore. There’s been no indications that that has been fixed.

But instead of saying, “yeah maybe you have a point.” Lando instead says, “they don’t know mine.” Again, here it’s either Lando gets the focus or no one should. It has to be about him.

And either way, if he does feel like this…he doesn’t need to say it.

It’s perfectly normal to keep shitty opinions to yourself, but he seems to lack a certain level of self-awareness and discernment for that level of self-control.

Lando Norris, I tried very hard but you’ve made me not like you.

[carsthatnevermadeitetc]

ELM Evolv demonstrator, 2024. Prodrive Advanced Technology and Astheimer Design have revealed a ‘last mile’ L7e category electric quadricycle prototype with a cubic load capacity rivalling mid-size vans. At 3,240mm long, 1,450mm wide, 2,150mm high and weighing 850kg with batteries, the compact Evolv can accommodates a 1.6m tall Euro pallet with a 300kg payload in the main load area. The secondary load area, accessible through rear ‘barn doors’, provides additional space for a 1.2m tall Euro pallet and 200kg payload. Prodrive and Astheimer has established a new company, ELM Mobility, to take the project into the production readiness phase. The vehicle, which has a 20kWh battery, will offer a 100 mile range with sales starting in 2028 at a target price of around £25,000.

ELM Mobility

[rableradle1]

The teeth knows no better. Perhaps this burning for vengeance must end.

Attempt 1 w Caine and Gangle!

Definitely not attempt 5 w Caine because the teeth posed a challenge <:D

[austrianshitposting]

My top 10 favorite signs at Vienna Pride 2024

[ID: A woman holding a sign saying "Jesus' Playlist: Only Love songs. She is wearing a purple shirt saying "another Christian for LGBTQ* Equality ]

Cute! We love seeing supportive religious folks in this house!! 7/10 🌈

[ID: A blue flag saying "Fundis zur Hölle jagen", flying in front of the Austrian Opera]

Short, sweet, good punch, keeping Pride a demonstration. 7.5/10 🌈

[ID: A woman holding a cardboard sign saying "I got 99 Problems and white hetero normative Patriarchy is all of them"]

fun reference, gets points for being political 7,5/10 🌈

[ID: A yellow shipping container, on it is a sign saying "Intersex Solidarity", next to two ads for an photography exhibition. The Exhibition is called "Inside views", the ad is showing a human body dressed in a ripcage]

It is just so funny to me I can't even really tell why. But it just feels appropriate, next to the ad and also the color of the container is very fitting. 8/10 🌈

[ID: A group of russian-speaking people demonstrating at Vienna Pride. One sign says "Proud and Loud for the Opressed in Russia, another shows Vladimir Putin in front of rainbows and writing saying "Vladimir, it's Time"]

Honestly my heart goes out to all queer people living in countries where they are still treated horribly, much worse than Austria. Love ❤️ 8/10 🌈

[ID: Where usually the movie titles being show are displayed, the Burg Kino shows a message saying "Pride without Prejudice. Hello Viella Pride 2024.]

Just a fun and sweet way to show support in a way that does not reek too much of rainbow capitalism. nice! 8.5/10 🌈

[ID: A sign saying "A day w/o Lesbians is like a day w/o sunshine"]

Cute!!!! As a lesbian, I approve ☀️ 9/10 🌈

[ID: two men holding signs saying "Hurra! Die Hurn sind da!", "In Vielfalt vereint, in tratsch entzweit" and "support your local cum dump"]

charming. fun. would get your grandma to gasp, probably. 9/10 🌈

[ID: The Group "Volksoper Wien" holding signs saying "Mama, Papa, ich muss euch was sagen: Ich liebe Operette", "Volksoper Wien: Queer seit 1898" and "125 Jahre Volksoper: man ist nie zu alt, um sich zu outen!"]

Extremely funny. Love it. Love that such a old, prestigious institution is at pride. 10/10 🌈

[ID: A sign saying "Heten Wahnsinn stoppen"]

Short, sweet, extremely funny, great reference, i love it 1000/10 🌈

Bonus:

Ace Santa :)

[nando161mando]

[France]

This Sunday will be a day of demonstrations for trans rights in all major French cities

@anarchistmemecollective @radicalgraff @kropotkindersurprise @antifainternational

[nocternalrandomness]

High over Pensacola Beach

[tinyq]

My contribution to the D/Hr Advent 2023 fest this year! (If you haven't already, go check out all the pretty art and lovely stories!!) Again, thank you to everyone who nominated me!

Happy Holidays!!

[gaslightgirlsummer]

the day charles starts getting his flowers for his insane tyre management is the day i’ll know peace

[lilbittymonster]

Day 11: Surrogate

Read on AO3

The road was long. Every ilm of his body ached under his armour. The lance that was once so proudly given as the honoured weapon of the Azure Dragoon had been reduced to being used as naught but a cane. The rolling hills of the Central Highlands were all beginning to blur into one green mass before his exhausted eyes, and only the years of treading these roads made sure he and his young charge were heading towards the tents of Camp Dragonhead.

The child hadn’t uttered a single word the entire journey, and the weeping had ceased bells ago. Now, still dusted in soot, he stared listlessly ahead as he clung to Alberic’s gauntlet. He’d been limping for the last malm and Alberic wasn’t sure if he was in any state to carry the boy should it come to it. Blessedly, the light of the campfire was visible off in the distance. All he had to do was wait until they were spotted.

“Who goes?” called a sentry as they drew nearer.

“Ser Alberic of the Knights Dragoon,” he called out hoarsely. “And…..child.”

The knight straightened at Alberic’s call. He said something to the other knight beside him, and they ran off into the camp.

“Full glad are we to see you returned, Ser Alberic,” the sentry said as they approached. “We could see the battle raging from here.” He turned to peer at the boy trailing slightly behind Alberic. “And who have we here?”

“A survivor,” was all Alberic said. “He needs to be seen by a healer.”

“Of course, of course,” the sentry nodded quickly. “Whatever you need.”

Alberic nodded wearily, and with another look at the boy, he led them further into the camp towards the healer’s tent. Now that they were in full lamplight he could see the burns on the child’s feet and hands. Smears of blood from unseen wounds crusted on his skin and tear tracks through the soot ran down his cheeks.

“Good evening, how- oh, good heavens above,” said the attendant chirurgeon. “What happened to this child?”

“Dragon attack,” Alberic said wearily.

The man was already pulling clean rags from a shelf with one hand and tugging the boy’s hand away from Alberic towards a bed with the other. Alberic released him and leaned his full weight on his lance, content to let the boy be seen to first. He was still silent, unresponsive to the healer’s prodding as he was wiped down. The burns were an even angrier red once the thin layer of black was removed and Alberic feared the boy may scar. The chirurgeon’s lips pressed together worriedly as he worked.

“What is your name?” he asked the boy gently.

No response.

“Do you know?” the chirurgeon asked, turning to Alberic.

He shook his head. “He’s said nary a word the whole journey.”

The chirurgeon hummed in disappointment. “Were there any others with him?”

Alberic shook his head again.

“A shame. How many more good innocent folk must we lose to the thrice damned Horde?” His hands were methodical in their movements, and in small concentrated bursts were the burns slowly eased. Satisfied with his work, and that there were no other injuries in need of tending to the boy, he straightened and turned to Alberic.

“Do not think your slumping has escaped my notice, ser dragoon. Sit, I shall be with you shortly.”

Alberic obeyed without complaint, glad to be off of his feet. He set the stained and bent lance to the side of the bed and stiffly began the process of removing his armour.

The boy said something in a mumble.

“I beg your pardon?” Alberic said gently leaning in.

“Estinien,” the boy said in a whisper. “My name’s Estinien.”

“Hello, Estinien. I am Ser Alberic Bale, of the Knights Dragoon of Ishgard.”

Slowly, Estinien looked up at Alberic with hollow eyes. “Where are we?”

“We are in Camp Dragonhead, not far from the Holy See. You’ve been hurt badly.” He hesitated. “Do you have any family that live in another village? Grandparents, maybe? Or an aunt and uncle?”

Estinien paused, then shook his head minutely.

Alberic closed his eyes and inhaled slowly through singed lungs. Another orphan of the war.

“Well, Estinien, once you are rested up a bit, I shall take you to the Holy See. You’ll be taken care of there.”

Estinien just looked past him again, eyes unseeing once more.

-

Alberic shouldered open the door to the apartment. It was far less glamourous than his previous lodgings, but a knight’s barrack is no place for a child. A lantern was already filled on the counter next to a small flintbox, and he methodically went around the room lighting the various wall lanterns. The room filled with soft light, and he turned to see Estinien still standing in the open doorway, staring wide eyed about the space.

“Come in, and close the door behind you, lad,” Alberic said as he set down his bag on the bare floor.

Hesitantly, as if waiting for an enemy to spring from the woodwork, Estinien stepped over the threshold and closed the door softly behind him. Trailing a hand along the wall he made a slow circuit about the common room. He paid no mind to the kitchen, but the washroom seemed to confuse him.

“What is this?” he asked.

Alberic looked up from the small wrapped bundle of plates he was putting away.

“What is what?”

Estinien was standing over the toilet with a confused tilt of his head.

“Surely you’ve seen a toilet before,” Alberic said, half jokingly.

Estinien frowned. “I have. Why is it inside, though?”

That brought Alberic up short.

“Ah, the city has sewers all throughout it,” he explained, trying not to laugh and embarrass the boy. “It keeps all our washrooms clean that way.

Estinien seemed to accept this explanation, not even looking at the tub, and continued his walk about the apartment. His meager belongings put away, Alberic watched wordlessly as the young boy assessed the space, leaning against the counter. First the bedroom on the left, then the right, before finally coming to rest back in the middle of the room.

“Well?” Alberic prompted.

“It’s big,” was all Estinien said.

“And…..that’s good?”

Estinien nodded, and Alberic’s shoulders slumped in relief.

“Well, which room would you like for yourself?”

Before Alberic had finished asking, Estinien was already pointing to the door on the right. Alberic chuckled.

“Go on, then, it’s all yours. We’ll get you a proper bed after supper.”

Estinien slipped inside and closed the door, and as Alberic picked up what was left of his belongings to enter the other bedroom, he thought he could hear the faint sounds of crying through the wall.

-

The smell of bitter and sweet herbs wafted up from the steaming mug as Alberic mixed in a healthy spoonful of honey before bringing it to the currently curled up elezen on the couch.

“Here, it’s still hot,” Alberic said as he approached.

Estinien slowly sat up with a wince and took the mug from his hands, sipping tentatively at the liquid. He pulled a face at the first sip and Alberic made a sympathetic noise.

“How much longer until it arrives?” he asked morosely.

“The letter that said it was sent from Ul’dah is dated two moons ago. It shouldn’t be long now,” Alberic promised.

Estinien grunted and winced again, taking another sip of tea.

“Is that barley sock still hot enough?” Alberic asked.

Estinien shook his head and unfurled himself enough to hand over the simple cotton tube. Alberic took it and laid it out on the stones by the fireplace again, careful not to let it get close enough to the flames to burn before sitting back down on the couch. Estinien leaned against his shoulder as he settled back against the cushions.

“I can’t wait to not have to do this again,” he muttered.

-

“Again!” Estinien demanded.

“We have been at this for bells, now, son,” Alberic panted as he straightened.

“If I am to be the next Azure Dragoon, then I need to be better than all the rest,” Estinien insisted.

“Aye, and you’ll never survive even being a Temple Knight if you kill yourself training,” Alberic countered.

Estinien scoffed and muttered something, but relaxed his stance. He was nearly the same height as Alberic now, and the set of old training maille rested snugly on his frame. Secretly, he had hoped to keep the danger of joining the dragoons from Estinien and spare him the same fate as him, but the lad was stubborn, and the flame of vengeance burned brighter in his eyes with each passing day.

And so, with a heavy heart, Alberic had agreed to instruct him. And that included making sure that Estinien did not run himself into an early grave.

“We’ve done these same drills a hundred times,” Estinien complained. “When are you going to show me something new?”

“You lack the balance to accompany your strength,” Alberic said, noting the small gathering of onlookers in the wings of the proving grounds. “It takes more than simple might to slay a wyrm.”

Estinien processed this with a furrow in his brow. Alberic rested the sparring lance against the nearby training dummy and stretched his legs. A few of the newer recruits were still fighting at the other end of the sand pit, and Alberic caught some of them gawking, only to avert their eyes as he met them.

“And how am I meant to practise balance?” Estinien asked finally.

“That we can do at home,” Alberic promised. He paused. “And I may be able to call in a favour.”

Estinien’s eyes lit up.

“I cannot guarantee anything,” Alberic clarified quickly, “but I did promise I would impart to you all that I know, and I plan to keep my promise.”

-

Alberic sat up in bed, heart pounding in his chest and pulse loud in his ears, but no memory of what he had dreamt beforehand. Perhaps it was for the best that he didn’t. As he tried to slow his breathing down his sleep-addled brain eventually recognised that there was light leaking in from beneath his door. He hauled himself out of bed and dressed slowly before cautiously opening it.

Estinien looked up from the table, where he was sitting with a deck of cards spread before him and a bottle of wine at his side.

“Can’t sleep either?” he asked, placing a card down on a row of others.

“Seems so,” Alberic said groggily as he meandered into the kitchen.

“Plenty of wine left in the bottle,” Estinien said without looking up.

“How considerate of you.”

Alberic slumped into the chair opposite and watched as Estinien laid down card after card. The wine was a bit too dry for his liking but it took the lingering edge off. He got back up to retrieve the last of the wheel of cheese from the icebox to cover the aftertaste.

Estinien stacked the fourth and final column of cards and swept the deck back into his hand and began shuffling.

“Care for a hand, if you aren’t sleeping?” he asked.

“I could go for a round of Skyfish, sure.”

Estinien raised a brow as he shuffled. “Skyfish, huh? The children’s game?”

“Ah, come now, humour your old man.”

“You’re hardly that old, Alberic,” Estinien said.

“If you’ve the brains for a more involved game, I’m all ears.”

Estinien chuckled but dutifully dealt them their hands. Alberic swept up his four cards, and immediately regretted the choice of game.

-

The manor was quiet in its comfort, the meal finished and plates cleared away by dutiful staff. Estinien and Aymeric were in the parlor across the hall with the cats. Alberic could hear the gentle tinkling of a bell and scampering claws on hardwood as Arienne skittered across them.

“I’m so glad you could join us this year,” Vivienne said as she sipped her wine contentedly.

“As am I. ‘Tis good to spend time in your company outside from formal matters for a change.”

Vivienne laughed at that, tilting her glass in a small cheers. It had taken the better part of the dinner and two glasses of Lominsan red for Alberic to relax in the company of nobles, even nobles he ostensibly already knew.

“Truthfully, I am glad of the excuse not to attend the larger Starlight celebrations,” she said. “My old bones aren’t what they used to be and the chairs are never comfortable enough.”

The sounds of the bell had stopped, and distantly Alberic heard the echoing sound of a door being closed followed by the wails of a small cat. Alberic hid his smile in his glass of wine. A minute later, Arienne appeared in the doorway voicing her complaints.

“Oh, did you get thrown out, your poor dear?” Vivienne said sympathetically. She patted her lap in invitation. “I know I’m not my son, but-ah, hello my darling.”

Arienne pushed her head against Vivienne’s hand, purring loudly, before circling twice and curling up contentedly.

“Oh, to be young and in love,” she said, a knowing smile on her lips. “Have you ever had anyone special to call your own, Alberic?”

He coughed on the wine slightly at the unexpected question.

“Ah, nay, I have not,” he said quickly to recover. “Being a knight, then a dragoon, I had not the time nor desire to tie myself to anyone I might soon leave behind. And then when that path was closed to me, well….” he trailed off with a meaningful look towards where the boys had disappeared to. “All my time went towards ensuring the happiness of my son. And I don’t regret a single moment of it.”

“And he makes my son very happy as well. I can’t tell you what a blessing it’s been to have Estinien around.”

Alberic’s chest swelled with pride at her words. It was a relief to hear that Estinien had come out of his shell just as much as he’d hoped.

“I thank the Fury every day that they have each other,” he said.

-

I loved you as a father, but I can ill forgive you for Ferndale.

Estinien’s final words to him still rattled about between his ears. The din of the room hardly drowned them out, much as he tried. He tried to think of any other way that conversation could have happened. Any way to spare him that pain. But as always, Nidhogg had other ideas.

He supposed it was a good thing Kitali stepped in when she did. He doesn’t know if he could have had the strength of will to fight his only son. He leaned back in the rickety chair and closed his eyes.

Halone, hear this prayer of a desperate father, he thought. Keep my son safe.

[stillunusual]

A little bit of Ukraine in Manchester....

[pinacoladamatata]

waava week: Reverse!

I've drawn Wan carrying Raava so many times I had to switch it up, like one day she just picks him up and he's like '_'

[billpottsismygf]

Doctor Who: The Pyramids of Mars / The Devil's Chord

Bonus foreshadowing: The Pyramids of Mars / The Legend of Ruby Sunday

[opelman]

Bavarian Tiger by Treflyn Lloyd-Roberts Via Flickr: For the first time in quite a few years, 2024 saw a German Air Force aerobatic flying display (as opposed to role demonstration) during the Royal International Air Tattoo, with the Eurofighter on show. Aircraft: Luftwaffe Eurofighter EF-2000 31+06 from Taktisches Luftwaffengeschwader 74, wearing special Bavarian Tiger markings. Location: RAF Fairford, Gloucestershire.

[ivygorgon]

Seeing a lot of Harris Walz signs and demonstrations in my red state. Love to see it!

[age-of-moonknight]

“New Moon,” Moon Knight: Fist of Khonshu (Vol. 2/2024), #1.

Writer: Jed MacKay; Penciler and Inker: Alessandro Cappuccio; Colorist: Rachelle Rosenberg; Letterer: Cory Petit