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Finds For 2013.
Killing Joke “Rapture”
Melvins, The “In The Freaktose The Bugs Are Dying”
Unsane “No Chance”
Dead Banana Ladies “1234”
Excepter “Kill People”
Death Grips “Guillotine”
Crystal Castles “Alice Practice”
Joy Division “Interzone”
How To Destroy Angels “The Loop Closes”
Z’ev “Shake, Rattle, And Roll”
Mika Miko “Capricoronations”
IAMX “I Am Terrified” (Alec Empire RMX)
Cold Cave “Confetti”
CX Kidtronik “Sky Is My Roof”
My Bloody Valentine “Who Sees You”
Killing Joke “Mass”
Captain Sensible & The Softies “Jet Boy Jet Girl”
Siouxie Sioux & The Banshees “Dear Prudence”
No Age “Every Artist Needs A Tragedy”
Ice “Flood”
Donny McCaslin “Alpha & Omega”
Death Grips “Takyon”
Fall, The “Mollusc In Tyrol” (live)
CX Kidtronik “Let’s Go Krazy” (Atari Teenage Riot RMX)
Sonic Youth “Tuck N’ Dar”
Slowdive “Catch The Breeze”
IO Echo “Carnation”
Prurient “There Are Still Secrets”
Tying Tiffany “Slow Motion” (Nic Endo RMX)
Head Of David “Newly Shaven Saint”
James Chance & The Contortionists “Bedroom Athelete”
Terawrizt “Don’t Forget”
Cut Hands “Black Mamba”
Alec Empire “New Man”
Mogwai “Letters To The Metro” (Zombi RMX)
Killing Joke Extremities, Dirt, And Various Repressed Emotions
Nujabes “Latitude” (RMX)
Laura Nyro “Buy And Sell”
Cut Hands “Stabbers Conspiracy”
Guitar Wolf “Jet Virus”
NxFxTxEx “Tanz Der Idioten”
Smiths, The “How Soon Is Now”
Damned, The “1 Of The 2”
Killing Joke “Jana” (Youth RMX)
Glass Candy “Warm In The Winter”
Bug, The “Catch A Fire”
Shonen Knife “When You Sleep”
Dot Allison “I Think I Love You”
Dead Boys, The “Sonic Reducer”
Christoph De Babalon “Traumspiel”
Consumer Electronics “Hand To Mouth (Barely Visible)”
Ramleh “Gibbering Wreck”
Les Ralizes Denudes “Dream” (live)
Skullflower “Diamond Bullet”
Tre Lux “Lever Let Me Down Again”
Ash Pool “Sin Of Life”
Laughing Hyenas “I Want You Right Now” (live)
Dead Banana Ladies “Girls Gone Wild”
Urbie Green “Mertensia”
This Will Destroy You “Little Smoke”
Prince Rama “Welcome To The Now Age”
Bug, The “Skeng”
NxFxTxEx “Some Stuff”
Killing Joke “Democracy”
Raveonettes, The “Ali Walk With Me” (Nic Endo RMX)
Bomb Squad “Riot Riot”
Sonic Youth “Santa Doesn’t Cop Out On Dope”
Merzbow “Silent Night”
Some Girls “He’s On Drugs Again”
Silver Daggers “Real Neat Flag”
Crystal Castles “Pap Smear”
Jesu “Christmas”
Atari Teenage Riot “Collapse Of History”
Avengers, The “We Are The One”
Babes In Toyland “Laugh My Head Off”
Gigi Masin “Clouds”
Small Black “Despicable Dogs” (Washed Out RMX)
Suicide “I Remember”
Black Tambourine “Black Car”
Martin Rev “Mari”
Nite Jewel “We Want Our Things”
Brothertiger “Turquoise (Skyline)”
Sea Oleena “Orion’s Eyes”
Chromatics “Tick Of The Clock”
New Bomb Turks “Dragstrip Riot”
Savages “Husbands”
Cold Cave “Oceans With No End”
125, Rue Monmartre “Revolter”
Wipers, The “Last Chance”
Crass “Shaved Women”
Depeche Mode “Soothe My Soul”
Fall, The “Victrola Time”
FFH “Worth Doing”
Phil Western “Bleak Night”
Gary Low “I Want You”
Babes In Toyland “Oh Yeah”
Heavens To Betsy “Get Out Of My Head”
Huggy Bear “February 14”
John Frusciante “The Real (Curtains)”
Suicide “See You Around”
Joy Division “Love Will Tear Us Apart”
Lapalux “Guuurl”
Les Rallizes Denudes “Reapers Of The Night” (live)
Mike Simonetti “Third Of The Storms”
Nitzer Ebb “Getting Closer”
Phil Western “Citrus Dream”
Savages “Flying To Berlin”
Farah “Gay Boy”
Bedflowers, The “My Ex-Lovers’ Address”
STRFCKR “Quality Time”
Alan Vega “Jukebox Babe”
John Frusicante “Remains”
Babes In Toyland “Bruise Violet”
Subhumans UK “The Day The Country Died”
Bratmobile “Shut Your Mouth”
Suicide “Cheree”
Telepathe “I Can’t Stand It”
Ceremony “Old”
Devotchkas, The “Live Fast Die Young”
Heavens To Betsy “Waitress Hell”
Bedflowers, The “In Love With 25 People”
Glass Candy “Digital Versicolor”
Computer Magic “Running”
Toll “Radio Moscow”
Twisted Wires “One Night At The Raw Deal”
Washed Out “Within And Without”
Golden Filter, The “Hide Me”
Desire “Mirror Mirror”
125, Rue Monmartre “Disco Hijack”
Boards Of Canada Tomorrow’s Harvest
Glass Candy “Redheads Feel More Pain”
Lee Ranaldo “The Bridge”
Mark Pritchard “Duppies”
Slowdive “Morningrise”
Primal Scream “City Slang”
Beach Fossils “Youth”
Classixx “All You’re Waiting For”
Dornik “Something About You”
Nine Inch Nails “Came Back Haunted”
Belle Game, The “River”
Com Truise In Decay
Fuck Buttons “The Red Wing”
Preatures, The “Is This How You Feel”
Drums, The “Money”
Gold Panda “You”
M.I.A. “Bring The Noize”
Mike Simonetti “The Magician”
Chvrches “Gun”
Disclosure “When A Fire Starts To Burn”
Ramallah Underground “Amputate (With The Unpeople)”
Appaloosa “Intimate”
Bibio “You”
Chvrches “Recover”
Killing Joke MMXII
Cigarettes, The “You Were So Young”
Cabaret Voltaire “Yashar”
A’Simetric “Refusal”
Big Business “Another Fourth Of July…Ruined”
Brought Low, The “The Kelly Rose”
Cabaret Voltaire “Sensoria (Razormaid)”
Sunburst “Mysterious Vibes”
Death Spiritual Mental Physical
S.M. Nurse “No Pop”
Dick Hyman “Give It Up Or Turn It Loose”
Minnie Riperton “Les Fleurs”
Anti-Nowhere League “For You”
Chick Carlton & Mesmeriah “One More Time With Feeling”
Death For The Whole World To See
Flora Purim “Angels”
Mantronix “Needle To The Groove”
Manzel “Midnight Theme”
Frank Ricotti “Vibes”
Giorgio Moroder “Midnight Express”
James Mason “I Want Your Love”
Killing Joke “Love Like Blood”
Francis Monkman “Getting Ready”
Mantronix “Bassline”
Blackbyrds, The “Love Is Love”
Herbie Hancock “Butterfly”
Merzbow “Action For Green 2”
Muslimgauze “Zion Under Islamic Law”
Stars And Bars “Stars And Bars”
Tarika Blue “Dreamflower”
GG Allin & The Unseen “Murder For The Mission”
Big Barney “Whole Damn Thing, The”
Christoph De Babalon “Marble Stairs”
Akitsa “Redemption”
Jonwayne “404 Garbage”
Public Image Ltd. “Theme”
Silent Servant “Utopian Disaster (End)”
Tech Level 2 “Hard Times” (dub)
Nine Inch Nails “All Time Low”
Four Tet “Jupiters”
Death Grips “Feels Like A Wheel”
AIDS Wolf “Cities Of Glass”
Peanut Butter Wolf “Dopestyle”
Whitehouse “Guru”
Alberich “Open Warfare”
Akitsa “Prophetie Heretique”
Ostara “Darkness Over Eden”
Elliott Smith “Twilight”
Chvrches “Lies”
M.I.A. “Only 1 U”
Oneohtrix Point Never “Problem Areas”
Bathory “Reaper”
Death Grips “This Is Violence Now (Don’t Get Me Wrong)”
Crash Course In Science “Cardboard Lamb”
AIDS Wolf “Like PSHTS Of Aerosol”
My Bloody Valentine “Only Shallow”
Pale Sketcher “Show Me How”
Wild Nothing “Data World”
Marine Girls “In Love / Honey”
Gleitzeit “Ich Kommew Aus Der DDR”
Phil Western “We Have Come To Bless This House”
Evian Christ “Salt Carousel”
Boards of Canada “Nothing Is Real”
Chvrches “Now Is Not The Time”
Nancy Wilson “I’m In Love”
Ron Morelli “Radar Version”
Public Image Ltd. “Fodderstompf”
#omega#music#playlists#mixtapes#personal#punk#new wave#electronic#industrial#synthpop#indie#shoegaze#noise rock#black metal#alternative#rhythmic noise#noise#hip-hop#rap#jazz#soul#fusion#vinyl#boombox#snythpop#riot grrrl#no wave#chillwave
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what’s your favourite book? what book are you currently reading?
I don't have one favorite book, but currently I'm reading "Den Der Lever Stille" by Leonora Christina Skov (Danish autobiographical novel by a lesbian author about growing up in an unsupportive family and finding herself afterwards), "Ternet Ninja" by Anders Matthesen (hilarious Danish children's book series by one of my favorite Danish comedians) and "Decarcerating Disability" by Liat Ben-Mosh (non fiction exploring the links between deinstitutionalization and prison abolition).
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Du har kanskje sett disse fargeringene rundt dine favorittkumlokk? Disse indikerer noe om kumlokkets funksjon, ikke som sådan, men som eksemplar. Dette, for eksempel, skjuler gass, derav dens gule farge. Blå betyr vann, grønn avløp, og så videre. Finn Flanør er ingen fan av disse fargerike nyvinningene, ingen videre fan av nyvinninger overhode, kanskje spesielt de fargerike. Han byr litt på seg selv av gangen, man kommer aldri til bunns i ham. Ikke godt å si hva han mener eller når.
Det finnes derimot de som ikke har noen hemmeligheter. De lever helhetlig på utsiden, uten noen form for indre liv. Andre igjen, alt de har er hemmeligheter. De har aldri levd en eneste dag på utsiden. De er fullstendig ukjente, selv for seg selv. Uansett fakulteter, vi jager alle den ene gode dagen. Noen ganger har man det bra. Andre ganger har man det dårlig. Dette er et mysterium for mange. Men sannheten er bare den, at det er et urettferdig system.
Kyniker, sier du? Nei, kynikeren har misforstått sitt samfunn. Den moderne kyniker mener han er en radikaler, en som står opp mot elitene og ikke lar seg lure. Men i realiteten er han en kraft i fordel av status quo. Det er kynikeren som lar seg lure, som ikke er i stand til å omfavne tilstandenes kompleksiteter. Og tilstandenes kompleksiteter er nøyaktig hva den rutinerte gatevandrer er godt utrustet til å vurdere. Kumlokket mykner selv det stauteste hjerte. Kynikeren er sjanseløs.
Ta for eksempel rottene. Det er enkelt å synes synd på rottene. I hvert fall hvis man tenker over dem. De fleste tenker ikke på dem i det hele tatt, og derfor er de så forhatte. Æsj, sier folk. Usj, sier de. En rotte, hvilken pest! Men hvor er det denne skylden ligger? Rottene forsøker bestyre sine overlevelsesinstinkter, som alle andre dyr. Synd for dem at de har havnet i menneskets natur, den av søppel og asfalt og forlatte varehus. Deres liv er uforskyldte -- små, utakknemlige liv på samfunnets lovløse flanke -- og de har ikke annet valg enn å gjøre det beste ut av dem, på den ene måten de kan.
Vi liker ikke innrømme våre tilværelser har mye til felles. Men vi gjør alle det vi kan med det vi måtte ha, der vi måtte være. Dette har også Finn Flanør innsett. Det er derfor han nå går rundt med sin sorte spraymaling, og sorter ut de fargerike kumlokkringene. Han liker sjelden forandringer, og denne liker han spesielt dårlig. Men hva med brannvesenet? sier jeg. Han hører ikke etter. Så hvis du ser kumlokk rundt i Oslobyen med sortmalte fargemarkeringer, vet du hvem som har tatt seg friheten.
Det er klart, Finn Flanør har alltid vært en original. Hans tankegods og generelle ideverden også originale. Han har ingen solide prinsipper å handle etter. Innskytelser og antakelser er mer hans greie. Han har mer ryggmarg enn hjernebark. Men tro ikke det er på slump han er slik, nei, han er pragmatiker av prinsipp. Likevel er det få av hans teorier jeg kan stille meg bak, vi står ofte lang fra hverandre i ideologiske spørsmål. Jeg hilser nemlig forandringene velkommen. Som med alt annet, er også kumlokket i rivende utvikling. Igjen lærer det oss om vår virkelighet. Vi har laget kumlokket i vårt bilde. Og nå speiler det oss.
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Tiden lever i bedste velgående på Ertholmene
Ertholmene er Danmark uden for kategori. Det er en håndfuld små klippeøer og skær, som ikke ligner noget andet, man ser andre steder i landet. Det er vor eneste skærg��rd. Yderst er Østerskær - Oster Skiær - som er landets østligste punkt, hvor solen står op 28 minutter før, der gør i Blåvand.
Når man går i land fra færgen fra Gudhjem, træder man lige ind i Danmarkshistorien. I 1684 besluttede Christian den 5. at der skulle etableres et fæstningsanlæg, som skulle holde svenskerne i skak - det gav automatisk navnet til den største af øerne. Hans søn, besluttede at udbygge fæstningen på naboøen - så fik den navnet Frederiksø.
De to øer er forbundet en bro og har begge nogle imponerende fæstningsanlæg med metertykke skanser bygget af tilhuggede granitsten. Det har været et gigantisk projekt, som har kostet liv og helbred for de straffefanger, som blev sat til at bygge dem.
Øerne administreres af Forsvarsministeriet og militæret har sat sit spor på øen. Den er reelt en kasserne og de gule huse omkring den eneste gade - Gaden - ligner husene i Nyboder og naturen er uberørt af menneskehånd. Vi skulle overlade genopretningen af vor natur og kultur til Forsvaret. De sætter pris på landets historie og lader naturen passe sig selv. Noget af Danmarks mest frodige natur er de militære øvelsesterræner. På Ertsholmene er også en koloni af sæler, som vi i øvrigt ikke så noget til.
Vi stopper op foran en sten i en af de eventyrlige bastioner - der er mejslet en tekst ind i stenen; budskabet er mere holdbart end en blogupdate men sværere at læse:
»Igiennem Guds hjelperige Haand er dette arbejde kommen udi Stand Wed Hr. Capt. Mathias Wihelm Tax. Lieut. Tyge Fredrik Stibolt. Lieut. Gregorius Højborne Sehested. Lieut. Christian West. Werckpase Herman Bahne Wolfzæhn, Skipper Peder Larsen. Bornholm anno MDCCXXXV.«
Teksten er altså fra 1735 og refererer til restaurerings - og udbygningsarbejde, som blev foretaget under Frederik den 5. Hvem der end fik det skrevet, turde ikke at tage hele æren; noget gik til Gud og noget til skipperen, som sejlede dem frem og tilbage til øerne.
Lidt sjovt, kaptajn Mathias Wihelm Tax, der havde det overordnede ansvar for byggearbejdet, var blevet hentet fra Helsingør, hvor han arbejdede med at skabe Kronborgs skanser ud mod Øresund. Og når jeg sammenligner, de store kampestens-konstruktioner i Helsingør, hvor jeg har gået tusindvis af gange, kan jeg se, at det er samme mand, som har været på spil.
Ofte skriver folk, at tiden står stille, når man kommer til Christiansø og Frederiksø - men det er helt forkert. Fordi man ikke har bygget på øen i århundreder, er det ikke det samme som, at tiden står stille. Tværtimod. Når man tager til Ertsholmene, bringer man sin egen tid med over til øerne, hvor den bliver sat i et 250 årigt perspektiv; ja mere end det, klipperne er skuret glatte af den seneste istid for 18.000 år siden; hold det op mod den nuværende klimakrise, har du ægte tid i bevægelse.
Næh, tiden på Ertsholmene har det strålende, og som der står på servietten fra Christiansø Gæstgiveri, hvor vi spiser Ruth's lokale sild: "Vi er ikke isolerede. Vi lever en pragtfuld tilværelse, som du godt kan misunde os"
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Chris Froome er utilfreds med cykeludstyr
Landevejscykling-begivenheder kræver, at professionelle ryttere er i topform og kræver også førsteklasses konfigurationer af rideudstyr. For professionelle ryttere er pasformen på deres landevejscykel meget vigtig, ligesom komforten fra deres Billigt Cykeltøj. Chris Froome er utilfreds med sit nuværende rideudstyr, som han mener er hovedårsagen til hans dårlige præstationer.
Chris Froome er en legendarisk racerkører, der har vundet fire Tour de France-mesterskaber. Chris Froome kunne ikke glemme den æresfølelse, som Tour de France Cykeltrøje medførte, og han kunne ikke længere konkurrere om et femte mesterskab. Chris Froome, 38, som i øjeblikket kører for Israel-Premier Tech, var utilfreds med de landevejscykler, som teamet leverede. Chris Froome har tidligere spillet for SKY Team, et af topholdene, og landevejsbilerne leveret af holdet var meget klassiske. Der er en forskel i styrke mellem Israel-Premier Tech og det tidligere SKY Team. Sidstnævntes betingelser er mere fordelagtige. Chris Froome har spillet for to hold og har forskellige erfaringer med det rideudstyr, som holdene leverer. Han mener, at konfigurationen af landevejscyklen er den vigtigste faktor, der påvirker hans konkurrencebelastning, hvilket er grundårsagen til hans ubehag under spillet.
Først troede Chris Froome, at det var et spørgsmål om alder, men så begyndte han at stille spørgsmålstegn ved cykelopsætningen. Chris Froome har stadig en af de cykler, han bruger med SKY Team, og han kan helt sikkert mærke forskellen. Chris Froome optrådte ikke på Israel-Premier Techs liste i år, og han havde ikke chancen for at deltage i Tour de France igen. Uanset Chris Froomes konkurrencestatus, håber mange fans at se ham konkurrere med unge kørere på samme scene.
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Winter 2013 Mixtape:
Killing Joke “Rapture”
Melvins, The “In The Freaktose The Bugs Are Dying”
Unsane “No Chance”
Dead Banana Ladies “1234”
Excepter “Kill People”
Death Grips “Guillotine”
Crystal Castles “Alice Practice”
Joy Division “Interzone”
How To Destroy Angels “The Loop Closes”
Z’ev “Shake, Rattle, And Roll”
Mika Miko “Capricoronations”
IAMX “I Am Terrified” (Alec Empire RMX)
Cold Cave “Confetti”
CX Kidtronik “Sky Is My Roof”
My Bloody Valentine “Who Sees You”
Killing Joke “Mass”
Captain Sensible & The Softies “Jet Boy Jet Girl”
Siouxie Sioux & The Banshees “Dear Prudence”
No Age “Every Artist Needs A Tragedy”
Ice “Flood”
Donny McCaslin “Alpha & Omega”
Death Grips “Takyon”
Fall, The “Mollusc In Tyrol” (live)
CX Kidtronik “Let’s Go Krazy” (Atari Teenage Riot RMX)
Sonic Youth “Tuck N’ Dar”
Slowdive “Catch The Breeze”
IO Echo “Carnation”
Prurient “There Are Still Secrets”
Tying Tiffany “Slow Motion” (Nic Endo RMX)
Head Of David “Newly Shaven Saint”
James Chance & The Contortionists “Bedroom Athelete”
Terawrizt “Don’t Forget”
Cut Hands “Black Mamba”
Alec Empire “New Man”
Mogwai “Letters To The Metro” (Zombi RMX)
Killing Joke Extremities, Dirt, And Various Repressed Emotions
Nujabes “Latitude” (RMX)
Laura Nyro “Buy And Sell”
Cut Hands “Stabbers Conspiracy”
Guitar Wolf “Jet Virus”
NxFxTxEx “Tanz Der Idioten”
Smiths, The “How Soon Is Now”
Damned, The “1 Of The 2”
Killing Joke “Jana” (Youth RMX)
Glass Candy “Warm In The Winter”
Bug, The “Catch A Fire”
Shonen Knife “When You Sleep”
Dot Allison “I Think I Love You”
Dead Boys, The “Sonic Reducer”
Christoph De Babalon “Traumspiel”
Consumer Electronics “Hand To Mouth (Barely Visible)”
Ramleh “Gibbering Wreck”
Les Ralizes Denudes “Dream” (live)
Skullflower “Diamond Bullet”
Tre Lux “Lever Let Me Down Again”
Ash Pool “Sin Of Life”
Laughing Hyenas “I Want You Right Now” (live)
Dead Banana Ladies “Girls Gone Wild”
Urbie Green “Mertensia”
This Will Destroy You “Little Smoke”
Prince Rama “Welcome To The Now Age”
Bug, The “Skeng”
NxFxTxEx “Some Stuff”
Killing Joke “Democracy”
Raveonettes, The “Ali Walk With Me” (Nic Endo RMX)
Bomb Squad “Riot Riot”
Sonic Youth “Santa Doesn’t Cop Out On Dope”
Merzbow “Silent Night”
Some Girls “He’s On Drugs Again”
Silver Daggers “Real Neat Flag”
Crystal Castles “Pap Smear”
Jesu “Christmas”
Atari Teenage Riot “Collapse Of History”
#omega#music#playlists#mixtapes#personal#electronic#alternative#metal#noise#punk#garage#industrial#hipster#jazz#noise rock#black metal#jungle#shoegaze#synthpop#ballad#hip-hop#no wave#new wave
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Hvorfor følger de ikke mine anbefalinger når nu vi har lagt så meget arbejde i at finde frem til dem?!?
En ting der ofte kan være lidt frustrerende er når man som tester på et projekt lægger et godt stykke arbejde i at undersøge om et givet system er klar til brug eller om der stadig er en fejl eller to som forhindre systemets virke. For så at se dem man udføre dette arbejde for så ikke følger ens anbefalinger. Forud for anbefalingen ligger ikke kun mit arbjde, men også arbejdet for de af mine peers der er på projektet, hvilket godt kan beløbe sig til en anselig udgift man lidt føler lige bliver skullet ud i W.C’et.
Sagen er bare den at der er mange faktore i spil når en ledelse beslutter hvorvidt et system eller en ændring til et system skal idriftsættes, og ofter er de andre faktore så tungtvejende at de tilsidesætter konklusionen i testrapporten, i det tilfælde at den ikke er enig.
Min erfaring siger at disse faktore også kan spille en meget vigtig rolle i forhold til hvorvidt et system skal idriftsættes uanset det måske stadig mangler lidt for at være “færdig”:
Hvis det system som bliver erstattet af det nye system og er meget buggy, så kan det være at det stadig er en forbedring overordnet set.
Hvis der er licensomkostninger med at vente med en release, kan de gøre at det er mere attraktivt forretningsmæssigt at kører lidt langsommere et par måneder, grundet mange fejl, end at skulle betale en ny licens for en periode for det system som evt erstattes ved en idriftsættelse.
Hvis man har lovet evt samarbdspartnere adgang til nogen data som det nye system facilitere, og har lovet det til en given dato, og den dato er en del af en større kontrakt, så kan det være at det er bedre at acceptere fejl i software frem for at genforhandle den aftlale der er indgået med samarbejdspartner(ne).
Og igen, men skal ikke undervurdere ego’et på chefer der sidder med go / no-go beslutningen. Det er set flere gange at “nogen” i den position har taget en direkte dårlig beslutning for ikke at tabe ansigt på andre områder.
Men hvad kan vi så gøre for at gøre vores arbejde bedre gældende når vores input kun er en del af det der skal tages stilling til
Vi skal levere det der hedder et go-live advise, og dette levere vi som oftes i form af en test rapport. Sagen er den at denne testrapport ofte indeholder rigtigt meget data om hvordan det er gået under testen, hvilke fejl der er fundet og rettet som en del af testen, og lignende. Denne del af informationen bliver ret ofte ikke læst, og den rigtige grund til at vi overhovedet rapportere det, er for at bevise at vi rent faktisk har lavet noget som testere på projektet. Det er imidlertid ikke det som en ledelse har behov for at se. Oftes er det ikke muligt at ændre på formatet af testrapporten så vi skal have en anden løsning.
Problemet med den traditionelle testrapport er at den er alt for tung. Dens format er oftest en del af en leverance kontrakt eller skabelonen den leveres ud fra er dikteret “oppefra” og skal overholdes for at lave en fyldestgørende leverace, uanset om der nogen sinde er nogen der læser den, eller for den sags skyld forstår den indhold og dets betydning. Tiden er løbet fra testrapporten og vi har længe haft meget bedre glææde af dashboards i stedet, men det er et helt andet blogpost.
Der er imidlertid en del af testrapproten der er guld værd, og det er naturligvis selve go-live advise delen. Mit forslag er at trække dette ud i et bilag sådan at vi kan frigøre det fra alt det der tynger det ned ved at være en del af testrapporten. Her kan vi så definere følgende:
En sektion der opsummere go-live advise i form af hvad test organisationen mener om hvorvidt det er OK at release systemet i dets nuværende tilstand.
For hver fejl af en vis grad, så dokumenter kort hvad fejlen er, om der er en workaround og hvor stor impact er på daglig drift som hvis muligt hvilke områder der er berørte.
Det er vigtigt at holde dette bilag kort, kontant og fri for følelser, det skal bare være de nøgterne data på hvor vi er og konsekvensen ved et go-live lige nu.
Dette er for at give ledelsen et godt værktil at tage med op til en samlet vurdering i forhold til de andre ting de skal vurdere hvorvodt der skal gives grøndt lyd for en idriftsættelse. Så kan kvaliteten deltage på lige fod med de andre faktore i stedet for bare at være noget som bliver tilsidesat det det ikke siger det man gerne vil høre. (jo det sker, ofte!)
Har du gode kommentare så hører jeg gerne fra dig!
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The Doctor witnessed the two Americans leaving - good, the devices worked. Now they can throw away those bloody vortex manipulators. Time Agents, what a con. No nausea, no seasickness, no vertigo, no exhaustion, finally.
A catch all and it comes in a ring size for subtlety? With phones of no Earth provider so, no worries about phone bills or being tracked. What a steal.
Vin - from what the Doctor could guess by observing - was unsure to use it so quickly like Kira and Emma had done. Not used to abruptness, always more curious. Given the situation, the Doctor observed that Vin didn't know about Torchwood agents. It was his sister that knew them: V. He didn't grasp how seeing these people again could emotionally affect Kira or Emma or himself. Never got to meet them himself, Vin.
Jenny, who looked so much like his daughter until she spoke in an Irish accent, breezes past him into the TARDIS with Vin in tow. "Hello to... you too! Make yourself at home."
Guess she didn't like funerals too. Did he hear she fought The biblical God and his angelic army and the Devil and his demonic army? And won? Put the fear of her into them before they resurrected her so she could be immortal JUST so she in particular didn't come back? At least it didn't affect the Bible. And free rides.
Vin popped back out to apologize for her but, the Doctor waved him off. The dead shouldn't have to apologize. Vin was going to say something else but, the Doctor cuts him off again. A sigh and shrug.
A smile appeared as a thought occurred. He also didn't care. That was him: letting it go. Mind over matter. The Doctor fiddled with Rogue's engagement ring on his pinky. He turned to Vin, speaking as he backed the alien back inside his ship.
"Nyintiran-Gallifreyan Survivor of House Arpexia and chapterhouse Cerulean of Gallifrey, High King Venedikarpexiot of Nyintr. Daughter of Dowger Queen-Empress Evangeline the Viceroy of Brutality and fellow Gallifreyan survivor hailing from the Patrex chapterhouse, Dowger King-Emperor The Scientist, gardener of Tardises and baker of cakes." The doors already closed behind him as he listed, backing the other slowly towards the white console. The lever moved by itself as his TARDIS took off by itself. Jenny was watching. Good, still loved an audience.
He continued, knowing that saying the other's birth name so perfectly confused them despite never sharing it. Showing he - like Einzelgänger, like Finsternis aka God's God, like Death der Todesfall, like Dantalion, like the White Facility: The Doctor too was watching him. Much closer than Vin realized by the bewildered expression the Doctor saw on their face. Grow more and more puzzled.
And weirdly, was that a hint of arousal?
"Boon of the Queen of Witches, Samantha Spellcraft-Dobson Stephens. The Burning Bastard Beast of Br'kah'kyoh - Howler of Hell and Purger of Purgatory, Time's Monster and Dansiation's Tome, General of Malignancy, Admiral of Extirpation, The Aceldama of Atrophy: ..."
He looked closer in the other's eyes, close now. Yes, yes, it was. That flash of bright violet against amber hues showed in Vin's eyes, that was arousal - backed against the console now. Speechless now, but got his full attention at hearing his real title. Not the Vigilantist, no, the Aceldama. No one alive called him that. Just the Vigilantist. Always that. That was what the Doctor observed.
He was showing his metaphorical hand. He didn't just stalked humans that caught his attention, he stalked everyone. Vin was no exception. This showed it.
"Honey, I'm owed a date and I hear you're really good at taking orders." The Doctor's eyes flicked away from Vin's, hand going behind him to press a few buttons. Flirting. Came easy with this face. Seeing the other's freckles pop in their subtle growing blush also helped. "I'm sure you're starved." Mind over matter.
Sexy - no, Verity now - rocked forward. Snapping his guest out of it but, now their eyes locked again. "Jennifer can come too. I know Lovett would love it" He found himself adding with a nod to their audience. And a pun. In silence, Vin moved away from him almost hesitantly but, the Doctor was too observant.
He showed that Vin was under a microscope. His microscope, his all seeing eye. All knowing mind. From him, it seemed Vin would like that. Generals alike.
There just had to be a differential. The Doctor would sleep and experience what Kira would do with the other variants of himself, see through their eyes, feel what they feel, kiss what they kiss. To bowtie and now. Sometimes further back. And then, he would wake up. Here.
So, why not enjoy it? Instead of fighting it: Lose.
The ship lands in Knightsbridge, Central London. Inside Vin's personal apartment.
"I mean it, mister! You, me, tonight." A boisterous laugh escapes him while they both leave, Vin nodding because now he has to go out again. Questions, questions.
@girl-in-the-tardis but initially i had this drafted before tony todd passed away as a whole different thing but then he passed and i got sad and when i get sad, doctor who do dark comedy so heres ✨️dark comedy✨️
"And?"
"You will not ruin this simply because you were too chickenshite to aapologize and ask them to peg you in public and instead chose using my shit to avoid yours so, go handle it."
Rose was staring them down, unfazed but internally steamed at the audacity. Who were they to pop up at her dad's- well, step dad but, since they were the same... well, its fickle - funeral. An array of color was what was asked. Wear colors. This world's alternate Pete's family was in mourning and here they were in black.
It was already bad enough their Doctor came to attend - uninvited, mind you - to mourn a version's version of her dad. Though, at least it was clear no one could mistake the Doctor they knew vs the friend she made. She had a better cover story for him. But, for this lot? She can't use twin anything. Twin cousin, twin sisters, step-twins - or clones!
Unless they had perception filters on, they were rather shit out of luck.
She can't vouch for them but, hopefully their Doctor could. Still, appearences - she had to be 'mad'. He was making it difficult though but what else was new.
"And what? I didn't ev–"
That visual she gave shut him right up before he could finish his own thought. Turning about face towards his family. If they were even that anymore. She called it like it was and he couldn't correct her on that. Not now. Like a scolded child, he walked towards them.
#girlinthetardis#c: bigenerated charm#v: tbd#er: queue su namun#{mentioned are}#themadvigilantist#nosewitch
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Stille liv
🇰🇷🤝🇩🇰 BERLINALE PRISVINDER: ‘Stille liv’, som vandt de internationale filmkritikeres pris i Panorama-sektionen på årets Berlinale, fortæller om den 19-årige Carl, der lever et stille liv på landet med sine forældre. Som eneste søn i familien er han udset til at overtage slægtsgården og føre de stolte landbrugstraditioner videre. Sådan har det været gennem generationer, og sådan skal det…
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Costume design for the movie "Den Der Lever Stille" by Puk Grasten, 2023.
Photo: Regner Grasten Film
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Fans af næste års begivenhed vil ikke kunne se Peter Sagans optræden
Efter at Peter Sagans Tour de France sluttede i juli i år, blev han ved med at kigge tilbage på banen. Peter Sagan vidste, at han aldrig ville blive en kører igen og besluttede at afslutte sin roadracerkarriere i år. Peter Sagan har vundet flest grønne Billigt Cykeltøj i Tour de France i sin karriere. Denne gang vil han rigtig gerne sige farvel til alle begivenheder.
Fans, der elskede Peter Sagan, vil ikke kunne se ham i aktion næste år, men hans legende inden for roadracing lever stadig. Hver æra har sine legender, og nu er æraen for unge topkørere. For ti år siden var interessen for roadracing på sit laveste på grund af dopingtiden. En sådan alvorlig hændelse blev i fokus for mediernes opmærksomhed, og den pensionerede kører Lance Armstrong blev frataget sit syvdobbelte Tour de France-mesterskab. Fantallet er styrtdykket, mens sponsorer melder sig ud i et accelereret tempo. Fremtiden for roadracing er fuld af usikkerhed, og under så alvorlige omstændigheder kommer den legendariske kører Peter Sagan. Peter Sagan har en meget unik stil, han kan overgå sprintere og klatrere.
Peter Sagan elsker landevejsløb meget og nyder glæden ved at køre som et barn. Peter Sagan blev en af de mest interessante mennesker blandt landevejsracere, hans tilstedeværelse og indflydelse uden sidestykke. Peter Sagans Børn Cykeltøj er også elsket af unge bilfans, og han har også hentet flere fans til roadracing. Der er mange unge kørere og veteraner, der konkurrerer næste år, men Peter Sagan vil ikke kunne stille op som kører. Peter Sagans liv vil fortsætte, han har lige sagt farvel til den dejligste karriere.
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The rope chafed against his neck with every breath he took. He pulled at the ropes around his wrists, but it was futile—they’d tied him up good. He looked out at the small crowd that had gathered to watch this spectacle: some angry, most sad.
The farmer had once again caught him stealing apples and, though he’d ran, he hadn’t been as fast as he’d been in the past; the farmer tackled him, screaming that this would be his last time stealing from him. The farmer dragged the boy toward his house, kicking and screaming. A worker came rushing over with rope and bound his wrists and ankles, and they both carried him to a wagon. They tossed him in, still kicking and screaming, and drove him into town, straight up to the hanging platform.
Tears were running down his face as they picked him up and dragged him up the platform steps. He was screaming incoherently now—sounds like animal noises emitted from this scrawny, small street urchin.
Now silent, he stood terrified, looking out at the faces looking up at him. The farmer climbed the platform steps and placed a hand on the lever. The look in his eyes chilled the boy to his bones.
Suddenly a deep, booming voice came from the back of the crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen, what do we have going on here?”
The farmer’s head swiveled in the direction of the voice, its owner appearing out of nowhere. He was tall, dark-haired, and dressed impeccably. He sauntered up to the platform, stopping at its edge and regarding the young boy.
“This boy’s been stealing from me for months, and I’ve had it!” The farmer gripped the lever harder.
“Come now, sir, he’s just a boy. Surely there’s something can be done?”
“Oh there’s something, alright!” The farmer gave the lever a small tug. The platform under the boy’s feet creaked. Fresh tears leaked from his eyes.
The fancy man on the ground didn’t flinch. “I’ll tell you what: let me take the boy with me. You’ll never see him again, he’ll never steal from you again. You have my word.”
The farmer just looked at him, undecided.
The man stepped up onto the platform now, facing the farmer. He motioned toward the boy. “Please, sir. He’s just a boy.”
The farmer hesitated, then straightened, letting go of the lever. “You better get that boy outta here. If I see him on my property again, I’ll shoot him myself.”
The man held his hands up. “You have my promise, sir, he’ll never bother you again.” He removed the noose from the boy’s neck, then cut the rope from his wrists.
“Let’s go, son.” He guided the boy down the steps as the small crowd dispersed. The farmer looked on in uncertainty.
They climbed up onto a nearby wagon & the man switched the horses, heading out of town.
He looked at the boy, taking in his tear-stained face, his stained clothes full of holes, his obvious lack of hygiene. “What’s your name, son?”
The boy looked up at the man, trying to look mean but the fear in his eyes giving him away. “John. John Marston.”
“Dutch Van Der Linde. Pleased to meet you, John.”
Dutch returned his gaze forward and switched the horses. “Let’s go home.”
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Fornemt besøg💕
Jeg (Laura) var simpelthen hen så heldig at få fint besøg af mine forældre! Længe ventet og meget savnet!
Vi fik mulighed for at bruge de næsten 3 uger, de var her, sammen uden de helt store problemer.
Vi tog til bjergene vest for Sydney, Blue Mountains (de blå bjerge). De har navnet pga. de mange eukalyptus træer, som udskiller oliedampe, som lægger et blåligt skær, når man kigger hen over de store skovområder. Vi fik taget lidt små-gåture og nydt regnskoven og udsigten. Vi tog også en gamle jernbane, som gik i 45° vinkel, som tidligere blev brugt som transport til kulminearbejdere og til kullet, de transporterede op fra minen. En sjov oplevelse at sidde så stejlt i en jernbane. Det er dog en kort tur ned/op på et minuts tid, men det var nu også okay. Til gengæld var jeg så uheldig den dag, vi gjorde det, at jeg snublede ned af en trappe og vred om på min ankel. Den var ikke meget hævet, men jeg har efterfølgende kunne mærke, at det alligevel blev en mindre forstuvning. Ups.... den har det fint nok nu, men jeg kan godt mærke det, hvis jeg sidder i skrædderstilling i længere tid, og anklen er heller ikke lige så smidig, som den har været. Tid bliver bare min bedsteven, og jeg kan sagtens gå og det hele, så det er heller ikke værre heldigvis.
Mor, far og jeg fik også fundet en sjov restaurant, som gik enormt meget op i jul. De havde en hel juleudstilling, der kommer frem hvert år - den kommer der lidt mere om i et andet opslag omkring jul her i Sydney.
Vi tog også ned syd for Sydney, da vi skulle bevæge os ned til Bungendore for at se David og hans familie. Et dejligt gensyn, der har været 18 år undervejs - også Bungendore kommer der et senere opslag om.
Vi kom lidt nord for Sydney, hvor vi boede på et hyggeligt AirBnB. Vi havde to soveværelser, ejet toilet og bad og et køkkenalrum. Fra stuen/køkkenalrummet, kunne man gå ud på en terrasse og komme ned på et lille græsareal. Græsarealet gik ned til en flod, så når man sad i sofaen i stuen og på terrassen havde man god udsigt til floden. Det var et stille område, enormt hyggeligt, så vi endte med, at vi en eftermiddag bare nød at være i huset og slappe af.
Vi var også på en bådtur nord for Sydney, hvor man tog en gammel postmandsrute. Båden leverede stadig post til nogle øer, så vi holdt kort til, så der kunne leveres post. På båden var der frokost inkluderet, så vi nød bare at sidde og have en god udsigt og sejle lidt rundt.
Vi var også lidt rundt i Sydney, bl.a. tog vi færgen til et nordlig del af Sydney, Manly. Et dejligt område med skøn strand og rar atmosfære. Fra færgen kunne man også få fantastisk udsigt til operahuset og broen på samme tid.
En vigtig ting, jeg havde forlangt, at mor og far skulle, mens de på besøg, var, at vi skulle på spøgelsestur. Enormt skægt, virkelig god spøgelsesguide, gode historier og bare generelt en virkelig god oplevelse. Mor blev da også forskrækket et par gange, hvilket ikke gjorde noget. Faktisk gjorde det bare oplevelsen bedre. Jeg havde tænkt, at jeg ville på spøgelsestur siden, jeg kom til Sydney og så, det var en mulighed, så det var længe ventet, og jeg virkelig spændt og havde glædet mig meget! Historierne var også virkelig spændende, og det ikke overnaturlige er typisk bundet i noget sandhed, så det gav også et spændende indblik i Sydneys historie.
Turen foregik i området The Rocks (oversættes til klipperne eller stenene). Det er et af de ældste områder, hvis ikke det ældste område, i Sydney. Da man først begyndte at have by, hvor Sydney ligger i dag, var The Rocks området, hvor kriminelle boede. De havde et helt samfund dernede og var ikke fængslet inde, men boede bare usselt. Der kom dog et fængsel senere hen. I dag er området meget populært blandt både turister og Sydney-siders. Det ligger også lige ved ved operahuset og broen, så området er meget centralt. Der er masser af barer og små lokale håndværksbutikker. Det har lidt en atmosfære som Latinerkvarteret i Aarhus.
Men tilbage til spøgelsesturen. Vi fik historier, om bl.a. et gammelt hus, hvor en familie havde værelse/bolig i samme bygning, hvor lig blev smidt hen. Der var bogstaveligtalt en dør, der førte ind til ligrummet. Mor står med hovedet oppe i deres skorsten, hvilket gjorde at jeg kunne forskrække hende godt og grundigt.
Der er et hotel og bar, hvor manden fra Crocodile Dundee var stamkunde inden, han blev Crocodile Dundee. Baren er dog mest kendt for, at der var en mand, der blev dræbt der for mange år siden. Historien lyder, at området var mafia område. Mafiachefens søn havde en dag været ude og var blevet voldtaget. Sønnen kom hjem og fortalt sin far om det. Forståeligt var faren vred, og som det går med mafiaer, ville faren have hævn og voldtægtsmanden. Faren inviterede derfor voldtægtsmanden på en øl i baren, men sagde ikke noget om årsagen. Voldtægtsmanden ankom først og satte sig op til baren med en øl, og faren kom ind og skød ham i baghovedet, og voldtægtsmanden døde på stedet. Faren fortalte de andre i baren om grunden til mordet, hvilket betød, at da politiet ankom til stedet kunne ingne fortælle, hvad der var sket, da alle på mærkelig vis havde været på toilettet på samme tid. Man fandt da frem til, at det nok var mafiachefen/faren, men da der skulle være retssag nogle måneder senere, kunne ingen pludselig huske, hvad der var sket.
Om det så er sandt eller ej, er det en god historie.
Vi nåede da heller ikke meget længere fra Sydney i 3,5 time syd på til Bungendore, da jeg var bundet af, at jeg stadig skulle arbejde på hostellet nogle gange om ugen, men ikke desto mindre havde vi nogle skønne uger sammen.
Vi fik også fejret Diddes fødselsdag. Hun blev vækket med morgensang på bedste danske vis (dog engelsk fødselsdagssang, da jeg havde fået en masse af de andre af personalet med på det). Hun fik lidt gaver, og vi tog ud og fik thai mad om aftenen.
Vejret variede også noget undervejs, men for det meste lå det omkring de 20°, hvis ikke lidt mere, så mor og far fik også noget sol og sommer i modsætning til Danmarks kedelige vinter.
Det var virkelig skønt at se dem igen efter 3 måneder, og det gjorde da også vores farvel lidt svært, men vi ses jo igen, og vi har da også snakket sammen siden.
- Laura
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Det har givet mig ro at være meget for mig selv i denne uge, jeg føler mig jordbunden igen. Går bogstaveligt talt ud og rører ved noget græs, sidder i det alene blandt en masse fremmede i en park, som jeg observerer, når jeg ikke læser.
Mit NemID virker ikke, fordi jeg har fået ny telefon, ved ikke hvor længe der går, før jeg modtager et nyt nøglekort, kan ikke komme på min netbank, ved ikke om min konto er i minus, men det går nok.
Min papfar fylder 60 i morgen, hans gave er ikke kommet endnu, men så må han få et fint kort og løftet om de bøger, der er på vej. Vi skal ud at spise i morgen aften, min mor, min papfar, min storebror, hans kone og to sønner, min søster, min lillebror og mig.
Min mor skrev: Ringer ikke i dag, skal hvile mig inden kontrol på hospitalet i morgen for antiøstrogen medicin. Hendes hår er ved at vokse ud igen, hun har lært at sætte det med voks, der er grå stænk i det nu, og det er mørkere, ikke solskinsfarvet som før kemoen, men hun stråler stadig, hun er solskin.
Om tre uger får jeg læseferie, det bliver en måned med to store opgaver, jeg forbereder mig på kortvarigt stress, men jeg glæder mig også til at fordybe mig, jeg vil skrive om Dracula og “purity” vs. “New Woman” i periodestudie, og jeg vil skrive om Den Der Lever Stille i litteraturhistorie, det er første gang, jeg får mulighed for at skrive om et moderne værk, det bliver nyt og spændende.
Vi får allerede info om bachelorskrivning nu, d. 30. august skal vi aflevere to opgaveidéer, jeg overvejer The Vampyre og/eller Dracula vs. vampyren i moderne fiktion, f.eks. Twilight, The Vampire Diaries, True Blood, hvordan vampyren har ændret sig, om der stadig er fokus på den “rene” vs. den “syndige” kvinde, vælge en feministisk vinkel. Jeg overvejer også børnelitteratur, Den Uendelige Historie og fantasy, perspektivering til Victoriatiden, hvor et barn endelig fik lov til at få et barn, og børnelitteraturen blomstrede.
Jeg kan godt lide fordybelse, jeg er udeblevet fra 90% af mine forelæsninger dette semester. Jeg foretrækker at sidde og skrive og lære selv, kun søge vejledning når jeg føler behovet, så det er rart, at vi ikke har mødepligt på mit studie. Vi skal bare aflevere opgaver som aktivitetskrav, det passer mig godt, det har altid passet mig godt at skrive.
Lørdag morgen skal jeg være med til live-lanceringen af den ene antologi, jeg er med i, på forlagets Facebook og Instagram. Jeg ved ikke, om jeg er den eneste af forfatterne, der skal være med, fordi min novelle lægger navn til antologien, men det håber jeg ikke, det er lidt nervepirrende. Jeg håber, jeg kan virke cool og ubekymret, som en der slet ikke er live på sociale medier for allerførste gang, som en der ikke bliver interviewet som forfatter for første gang.
Uanset hvad; det går jo nok, som der står på mit håndled med permanent blæk
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My dearest Bee
Hi dear tumblr people! I wrote a thing and I quite like it,,
Summary: Time travel, is, well something. Who would've thought that you would get stuck in the 1800's?? Well here you are, part of the Van der Linde gang, ready to face the past.
First chapter can be read as a stand alone chapter. It takes place a few years after Isaac died. The relationship between the reader and Arthur is platonic. Enjoy!!
ao3
My dearest Bee,
So I hope these letters- I can’t call them letters if they’re in a book right?- Anyways, I hope these will find you, I hope you’re home, safe. I hope you saw your dog again, I miss her. I have a horse now though! Maybe I’ll name her after you, or just wasp. If I remember correctly you weren’t the biggest fan of wasps. But really, I’m not sure if we timetraveld or were transported to another universe where everything just started like 100 years later, the latter case making it a whole lot harder for you to find this. I just really hope you’ll find this against all odds, because I said I’d write to you if I made it. And I did! I guess. After the whole thing blew up some cowboys found me, I think they call themselves the Van der Linde gang? But yeah, they feed me and gave me a bed for the small price of doing some chores. I’d like to do more though, did you know that the 1800’s are really boring even though you can die at any second? It’s spicy but in the wrong way. I’d like you to know though that it’s not all bad here. People are lovely when they’re not trying to shoot you. You should see a campfire evening- hell any evening- here.
Yours always,
(Y/N)
“(Y/N) get off your lazy ass and do the chores we asked you to do!”
“Mister Morgan! No need to yell, I got it perfectly under control. I was just, taking a break, that's all. Everyone who works all day has the right to take a break.”
“Boy as much as we want it workers are exploited ‘till they fall to the ground face first. You however are not so-” He took a deep breath, closed his eyes before speaking agian. Softer this time than the louder tone he was using first. “get to work, please.”
“Fine fine, but-”
“There better leave something good out of that big mouth of yours.”
“Hey that's just rude! But I want one of you lot to teach me anything. I can’t even ride a horse for Christ's sake.”
“I still don’t get how you can’t kiddo.”
“I told you I lost my memory at the explosion, maybe I lost my skills too.” You said avoiding his piercing gaze. Nothing is better at covering up lies than staring at rocks being sad over the skills you’ve lost.
“And we all know about that blatant lie.” Fuck, maybe rocks aren’t good at covering up.
“It isn’t-”
“Boy I don’t give a damn, you could work on your handwriting though, you’re almost worse than John. But fine, when you’re done with your chores I'll teach you to ride.” He said, finally giving in.
“Yay!” You said while doing little hand clapping motion. “I won’t disappoint, I promise. I’m a fast learner!” You said with smiling eyes
“And how’d you find out you were a fast learner boy?” He spoke out as he raised his eyebrows, just enough for you to feel them piercing right through you, poking at all the holes in your lie. You thought you’d last at least a few months, well here you are, exactly one month deep in this shithole being caught red handed.
“Fuck” Is all you managed to cram out while your eyes lost all their focus. You being back in your own mind instead of the wild world.
It made the silence hard. The only sound that of the other gang members and the birds and the bees to give you something to focus on. It’s so hard out here, no amount of scouts will ever prepare one for the real wild.vIt’s much scarier out here. The real wild is the place where you die if you trip over the wrong rock. The scouts will make sure the rock isn’t even there. Every bird will just put down another rock and god I want the silence broken, just as broken as my lie is.
“I know there’s probably a reason you’re not telling us anything.” Athur said, as he moved closer, his eyes smaller. Like they could see right in his head “You can’t hide forever, not who you are.”
“...”
“Use your words boy”
“I’m sorry, Mister Morgan, I don’t know what to say to that.”
“You’ll figure it out, but first geT your ass back to woRK.” His voice became louder this time, I mean this was the third time he asked. He put his hand on your shoulder, shoving you away from your shared tent towards the hay bales you were supposed to move. A bit harder than anyone in the twenty-first century would’ve done, but for Arthur it was just a friendly push.
“I will, I will mister Morgan!” You said trying to act cheerful. Arthur made a “tsk” sound and waved you off, absolutely done, it seemed. You moved to the hay bales that were still in the wagon, ready to be fed to the horses.
The hay bales were heavy, yet they seemed lighter than they were a month ago. Your hands weren’t soft no more and being covered in dirt and dust wasn’t rare anymore. The luxuries that the modern world gave you disappeared the moment you decided that Bee was the one who should go home. One to run to the portal the moment it opens, one to pull the lever and jump through afterwards. Both of you knew that people don’t want you touching their stuff, let alone interdimensional portals or time machines. You knew someone would be quick to show up the moment you turned it on. It was surprising to see the portal become unstable, blinking in and out, in and out of existence. It left you with 2 choices. Option a: jump in it praying it would still transport you back home, back to all you knew not leaving you in the empty pocket of a closed portal. Or option b: run away for the inevitable explosion.
Gods you hated thinking about it. It played and twisted your mind. You couldn’t even talk about it, no accessible therapists in the wild west. And you’d prefer not to tell anyone you’re a helpless time traveler. Stuck in 1895 traveling with a gang of outlaws. A surely unique situation only you could get yourself in. You don’t even remember what you chose. You just remembered waking up surrounded by a bunch of cowboys.
“And how is our newest member doing?” The man's smooth and easy voice was easily recognizable. Dutch Van der Linde. Isn’t it ironic that he has a dutch surname and that his parents called him, well, Dutch. It’s a question that always on your mind, why his parents did that and if it’s iconic or just stupid. Dutch was one of the first people who introduced himself, right after Arthur- who was very inclined on being called Mister Morgan- and Hosea. The trio who showed you the wild west wasn’t all bad.
“Dutch! It is absolutely lovely to see you.” You said while putting the last hay bale down. A little bit of healthy sweat decorating your face. “I am doing absolutely great. Arthur- Mister Morgan is actually going to teach me how to ride a horse when I’m done.” You said while eyeing Arthur. Clearly not being amused with the situation. “Eh, he said yes, it’s his problem now.”
“I’m surprised you got through that thick skull of his!” He said with a smile, each word a little louder than the last. He clapped his hand on your shoulder as he let out a little chuckle.
“I think he likes me even though he won’t admit it actually.” You lied, confidence was half of the battle, as they say.
“I think I don’t you annoying little bastard.” Arthur said, joining the conversation. Dutch clearly talks loud enough to make sure any gossip subject will show up to the gossip. Definitely not the fact that you made eye contact with him “Now get to your horse before I change my mind.”
“Arthur! Oh shit- Mister Morgan! I’ll be there before they can even give me a speeding ticket” You said, maybe it was a bit too modern this time, but isn’t the wild west about living on the edge?
“You speak a strange version of english boy.” Arthur said. “You know how to saddle up a horse right?”
“Hosea taught me so I could help around with chores. And Wasp already had a saddle when we found her so I’m all good to go Mister Morgan!”
“Great, now go get her saddled up so we can go.” He said, motioning towards the horses.
“See you in a flash.” You said while snapping your fingers, forming finger guns to point back to Arthur. You dismissed the look of confusion on their faces, clearly not used to the finger gun motion. You walked off to Wasp and gave her a little pet and a snack. As you were putting her saddle on you overheard the rest of the conversation between Arthur and Dutch.
“We can both see you have a soft spot for the boy, Arthur.” Dutch said with a chuckle.
“And we both know youngins have great hearing and that he’s spying on our little conversation.” Arthur said in response, eyeing you. You kept saddling Wasp up as if you heard nothing. Let the deaf chicken inside of you arise and all. Hoping they’d say more.
“I know Arthur, I know.” Dutch said with a chuckle. About to walk away. “Oh before you go, he’s a kid Arthur, don’t be too hard on him and be carefull.” You didn’t think you were a kid, maybe not a full grown adult, but at least you were half an adult, no kid. But you weren’t going to say anything, you were eavesdropping after all. “He’s all yours, (Y/N)!” He yelled at you, before leaving for real. You turned around and gave him a smile and a quick wave. Arthur walked
“Take her by the reins, we're walking to an open spot first.”
“Shoar '' You said, absolutely trying to mimic the western accent you hear all around here. Apparently it was just bad enough to make Arthur chuckle.
“We’ll make a cowboy outta ya yet.”
Traveling in the wild was absolutely amazing for the most part. Abandoned camps are in fact disgusting. They leave their trash! And it’s not like they cleaned their cans so it smells. But besides that the mostly untouched nature was beautiful and the air was so clean. It all felt much more, how to put it, real. No factories everywhere, no house on every corner of the street, just, the world how mother nature intended it. It was peaceful. There was an open field about ten minutes walking from camp, and that’s where you arrived. Reins in hand.
“You ready to go (Y/N)?” Arthur asked. You put your hand on your hips looking at your horse with abosute pride and stupidity because how to fuck were you going to do this?
“Absolutely.” You said. “Remind me how do I get on again?”
The words were taken by the wind as they made room for silence. Arthur’s expression could be described as a mix between surprise, disbelief and the OhMyGodAreYouStupid emotion. Yet it all quickly made room for a smile, or a laugh. He could definitely be laughing at you.
“I didn’t expect to need to teach an 18 year old how to get on a damn horse.”
There was no fire behind the words, but as they say, fight (fake) fire with (fake) fire.
“And I didn’t expect to end up here for the life of so I did not think horse riding would be a viable skill to know. So get your pretty ass in the saddle so I can.. mimic you or something.” You said making a hand gesture at Arthur’s horse.
He gave you one more smile as he turned to his horse, getting on slower than usual. He got on on the right side of his horse so he put his right foot in the styrup. He lifted his body up effortlessly and as elegant as a western outlaw could get. And there he was, in the saddle, in full western glory.
“Looks easy enough.” You said, an absolute lie as it turned out. The stirrups were way higher than expected, and the getting on could be called anything but elegant or the cool western movies you saw. Turns out your own body is heavy and there’s quite a lot on a horse to get stuck behind. But you ended up in the saddle, full western glory.
The rest of the riding lesson went about the same. Arthur did something really cool looking and whenever you did it it felt like you were some old slime blob.
“Squeeze your lower legs to get her to move, (Y/N)!”
“I am this horse is just broken- OHMYGOD SHe’s moving!”
“Never blame the horse for the rider's lack of skill, boy. Now steering.”
He explained it all to you. How to properly hold the reins and how to use them, how to do it with one hand and how to do it with two. Western and English style he called it. He taught you how to move your horse around and what not to do. The one and most important thing being to have no doubts and no fear. The horse will sense it.
It felt odd at first, to have control over another living being. It wasn’t easy no, Arthur had to tell you how to correct your posture every 5 minutes. But after a while of correcting everything you started to get confident. It started getting easier to steer. Every muscle of yours was getting tired but it was so worth it. Maybe one day you’ll look like an actual movie star.
Once you got the basics down you could go a bit harder. From a walk to a trot, a canter and even a little gallop. And as the wind brushed over your face blowing your hair away, it felt like something the 21st century didn’t have a lot of. Galloping through the grass hearing every step as more and more grass was thrown into the air. Arthur still giving you instructions on what to watch out for, riding by your side in case of emergency. And the horse, Wasp, god she deserved a cooler name. Her big strong muscles moving beneath you, her breath as she was running, the heat radiating from her skin, gods it felt so great. No modern bike or car could ever top this feeling of freedom.
Cars and bikes could however top the feeling of falling off. You lost control quite a few times, losing balance, a rearing horse throwing you right where you belong. But nothing modern could beat that feeling of getting on again. Of it working when you tried it for a second time. Hell, maybe the third time. Arthur was there to make sure you were okay, and you could have another go. And another. And just one more for good measure. Lying on the ground trying to see if this time you did break something wasn’t a strange thing after today. Hell it happened at least every hour. But determining it as fine and getting on again, it felt like a lot.
You didn’t even realize it was getting late until the sky started turning orange. The normally so bright sun started becoming more yellow and stopped burning at your eyes. Instead it just seemed pretty. The clouds became yellow just like the sun, and the sky turned a bit darker with every passing minute. Yellow and orange were happy colours, maybe this was an good omen, maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t think you’d die somewhere in a ditch. Bee would be proud to see you haven’t given up. You knew that for once.
“Time isn’t a real thing Mister Morgan, I swear.” You said looking at the sunset.
“Call me Arthur.” Said Arthur Morgan, though guy in the west in dire need of respect. Arthur “You call me mister Morgan boy” Morgan.
“Wait, did someone hide weed somewhere because this must be a hallucination! Can I really call you Arthur?”
“Wouldn't have said it otherwise boy.” He hissed, the mister Morgan just wouldn't leave Arthur.
“Well, Arthur, thank you. I’m happy I only have to say half the syllables now.”
“Shoar thing. Now let’s go back to camp before they send out a search party to see if you haven’t broken anything today.” He said jokingly
“I would never! I am obviously the best horse rider in the entire United states!” You said sarcastically, if you fake confidence long enough, it might become real.
Arthur laughed at that. “Well see about that boy. Now let’s go, we should be there soon considering you can ride now.”
“Of course, good plan. I can show off my skills now!”
“Shoar, go ahead boy. Don’t make your entrance too dramatic.”
“I will, I absolutely will. Oh and Arthur?”
“Hm?” He said, quite relaxed actually.
“Thank you, for everything today. I’m happy you let me bother you today.” You said with a proud smile.
“You’re welcome boy. Bother me all you want, we ain’t getting rid of you just yet.” He said as he ruffled your hair a bit. “Now let’s go home, I’m realll hungry.”
You absolutely couldn’t hide the smile on your face. “Hell yeah, I’m starving.” You said as you kicked the stirrups making Wasp move, you rode to camp in the beautiful orange sky. Maybe he did actually care about you, just a little.
Reblogs and comments are always appreciated!
#arthur morgan x reader#arthur morgan x male reader#BUT LIKE PLATONIC#Idk how else to tag it#sorry hehe#Van der linde gang#pre canon#fluff#dutch van der linde#arthur morgan
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