#electronic waste solutions

[kritkagupta]

Learn the importance of e-waste recycling and how to properly dispose of electronic waste. Discover how recycling old gadgets reduces environmental harm and promotes sustainability.

[vandykrecyclingsolutions]

Understand Electronics Waste Recycling-Features,Function & Capabilities

[re-sourcerecycling]

Recycling Solutions’ Influence On Ontario’s Circular Economy

The immediate thought in light of the growing concern for the environment is Ontario, which would be among the first in line to consider environmentally friendly practices adding to the circular economy. Such a dream requires effective recycling solutions such as electronic recycling and product destruction services in Ontario. Read More: https://medium.com/@resourcerecycling10/recycling-solutions-influence-on-ontario-s-circular-economy-85ecb5830fab

[303junk]

[helaven]

Weapons of Mass Construction

[e-wastemart]

10 Simple Ways to Reduce Electronic Waste (E-Waste)

In our fast-paced digital age, electronic devices have become an indispensable part of our lives. However, the rapid growth of electronic waste, commonly known as e-waste, poses a significant challenge to the environment and human health. To combat this pressing issue, we must take proactive steps to reduce e-waste and promote sustainable practices. 

Here are 10 simple ways you can make a positive impact:

Think before you buy: When you want to buy a new electronic device, ask yourself if you really need it. Maybe your old one can still work fine.

Take good care of your stuff: If you take good care of your electronic gadgets, they will last longer, and you won't need to throw them away quickly.

Share or sell: If your old gadgets are still working well, you can give them to someone who needs them or sell them.

Buy refurbished items: Instead of always buying brand-new things, you can choose to get refurbished electronics. They are used but fixed up, so they are good as new.

Fix it up: When something breaks, try to repair it instead of buying a new one. Fixing things is better for the environment and saves money.

Recycle properly: When you want to throw away old electronics, find a place that can recycle them the right way. That helps keep harmful stuff out of the environment.

Join recycling events: Sometimes, there are events where you can bring your e-waste to be recycled safely. Be part of these events if you can.

Support eco-friendly brands: Choose products from companies that care about the environment and make things in a good way.

Teach others: Tell your friends and family about the importance of reducing e-waste. Encourage them to do the same.

Speak up for the environment: Support rules and policies that make companies responsible for their e-waste. Together, we can make a big change!

Remember, by doing these simple things, we can make a big difference in reducing electronic waste and protecting the Earth for the future. For more tips on living sustainably, visit How to Reduce Electronic Waste, or check out our website E-Waste Mart website today to know more about E waste management or E waste recycling in Mumbai. Let's work together for a greener and better world!

[k12academics]

123 Repairshop is dedicated to data destruction as part of our commitment to data protection and privacy. We understand the importance of securely disposing of sensitive information to prevent any unauthorized access or data breaches. Our comprehensive approach ensures that your data is protected throughout the entire repair and recycling process.

When it comes to data destruction, our technicians follow strict protocols to ensure the complete and irreversible erasure of data from devices. We utilize industry-leading software and techniques to securely wipe all data, leaving no traces behind. This process applies to both personal devices and business equipment, guaranteeing the highest level of data security.

In addition to data destruction, 123 Repairshop emphasizes environmental sustainability and responsible e-waste management. We offer electronic recycling options for old, damaged, or obsolete devices. Our technicians meticulously disassemble each item, separating recyclable components such as metals, plastics, circuit boards, and batteries. Through our partnerships with certified recycling facilities, we ensure that these materials are appropriately treated and processed, minimizing the environmental impact of electronic waste.

By choosing 123 Repairshop, you not only receive top-quality repairs and data protection, but you also contribute to a healthier planet. Our commitment to environmental sustainability, social responsibility, and data protection aligns with our belief in making a positive impact. We strive to support educational institutions, promote eco-friendly practices, and safeguard your valuable data.

Whether you need repairs, data destruction, or electronic recycling, we are your trusted partner in achieving your needs while making a positive impact on the world around us. At 123 Repairshop, we combine exceptional service with environmentally friendly practices, social responsibility, and data protection. Join us in our mission to create a healthier and more sustainable future by choosing our services.

[reasonsforhope]

"As the world grows “smarter” through the adoption of smartphones, smart fridges, and entire smart houses, the carbon cost of that technology grows, too. 

In the last decade, electronic waste has become one of the fastest-growing waste streams in the world. 

According to The World Counts, the globe generates about 50 million tons of e-waste every year. That’s the equivalent of 1,000 laptops being trashed every second. 

After they’re shipped off to landfills and incinerated, the trash releases toxic chemicals including lead, cadmium, arsenic, mercury, and so much more, which can cause disastrous health effects on the populations that live near those trash sites. 

Fortunately, Franziska Kerber — a university student at ​​FH Joanneum in Graz, Austria — has dreamed up a solution that helps carve away at that behemoth problem: electronics made out of recyclable, dissolvable paper. 

On September 11, Kerber’s invention “Pape” — or Paper Electronics — earned global recognition when it was named a national winner of the 2024 James Dyson Awards. 

When she entered the scientific competition, Kerber demonstrated her invention with the creation of several small electronics made out of paper materials, including a fully-functional WiFi router and smoke detector. 

“Small electronic devices are especially prone to ending up in household waste due to unclear disposal systems and their small size, so there is significant potential to develop a more user-friendly end-of-life system,” Kerber wrote on the James Dyson Award website. 

“With this in mind, I aimed to move beyond a simple recycling solution to a circular one, ensuring long-term sustainability.” 

Kerber’s invention hinges on crafting a dissolvable and recyclable PCB board out of compressed “paper pulp.” 

A printed circuit board (PCB) is a board that can be found in nearly all modern electronic devices, like phones, tablets, and smartwatches.

But even companies that have started incorporating a “dissolution” step into the end life of their products require deconstruction to break down and recover the PCB board before it can be recycled. 

With Kerber’s PAPE products, users don’t need to take the device apart to recycle it.

“By implementing a user-friendly return option, manufacturers can efficiently dissolve all returned items, potentially reusing electronic components,” Kerber explained. 

“Rapidly advancing technology, which forms the core of many devices, becomes obsolete much faster than the structural elements, which are often made from plastics that can last thousands of years,” Kerber poses. 

PAPE, Kerber says, has a “designed end-of-life system” which anticipates obsolescence. 

“Does anyone want to use a thousand-year-old computer?” Kerber asks. “Of course not. … This ensures a sustainable and reliable system without hindering technological advancement.”"

-via GoodGoodGood, September 13, 2024

[ablobwhowrites]

Hi, it's me again, the Last Unicorn Anom, I forgot to add this part from the movie because I couldn't find the script, but I got it now!

"You are an idiot! Do you hear me? You've lost her! You've trapped her in a human body! She'll go mad!"

" What have you done to me? I'm a unicorn! I'm a unicorn! I'm a unicorn! I wish you had let the Red Bull take me. I wish you had left me to the harpy!- I can feel this body dying all around me!" (For context a wizard forced the Unicorn into a human body. Unicorns are immortal, forever young, never suffering. Now she feels her body aging and living all around her soul and mind. But she can't do anything about it or she'll die. This matches Vehicon Reader so much with how they/he can still feel their mortal body inside the Vehicon one. They feel both alive and dead.)

(leaping in joy rn. Also have y'all seen creature commandos by chance?)

Vehicon y/n actually did die as he was being hooked up to his new body but came back to life because this was after they learned from starscream that energon is basically what they use to live and that was basically injected into y/n's body to the point slowly y/n is becoming reliant on his new body that taking him out would kill him without the constant flowing of energon in his system and now having energon keeping him alive. His body will never age like a regular humans, he is forced this immortality as he doesn’t know that once cybertron is repaired that he’ll have to go, he doesn’t know he can’t stay because is more cybertronian than human but he feels a small part of him still connected to earth, he feels his heart ache and his human body slowly wasting away in him till he eventually is the vehicon body that he’ll live in, he’s scared and just wants someone to hold close. Similar to the last unicorn, he can feel his body dying all around him, his near death experience had let him see his mortality as now he is forced to be immortal because of Silas.

Plus I as I will say it again. You all know that scene where in Steven universe where pearl was thinking of taking Stevens gem out, thinking rose was trapped in that form. Well y/n has thought of that and he thought it was a solution so basically to tear his human body out to be free but if he did then bro. It would be like a horror movie scene.

(Also separate from transformers prime and time for a dumb yandere bayverse transformers head canon)

I like to think of yandere bayverse transformers cause like you saw how the all spark gives life to any electronic thing and I imagine just y/n's cellphone end up coming to life and y/n just stands there like "sorry, I couldn't answer your calls, my phone just jumped out of my hands to help fight the decepticons" and Sam (or Cabe) doesn't believe it and then sees y/n's fucking phone come running back and just climb into y/n's pocket and transform back into a regular phone. I really just like the dumb idea of y/n having to deal with their phone being a autobot.

(that's all for my yap session but if you guys like that please don't be shy and request your ideas for stories or y/n's. But for now please stay safe and drink water!)

[possesseddesiress]

Rivals Inside [ Part Two ]

CONTENT WARNING: This story includes themes of transformation and body control with a suggestive approach. If this type of narrative is not to your liking or you do not meet the recommended age, we suggest you do not continue.

All images used (if any) belong to their respective owners. I claim no authorship over them and they are only used for illustrative purposes.

If you decide to go ahead, welcome to Possessed Desires, where mind and body are never completely under your control.

Rivals Inside [ Part Two ] – English Version

My name is Samuel, and I am not satisfied with the life I lead. Make no mistake, I know my looks are above what most guys would like to become, my family has a good amount of money, I have a lot of followers on social media and I'm definitely good looking.

But i'm not happy.

When I was thirteen, I realized two things; that I had a talent for fashion, and that I liked my best friend. I always felt comfortable with Max by my side, and even protected, at that age, he still wasn't the mass of muscle he is today.

But he was certainly adept at punching if anyone dared to tease me. And I loved our friendship, but I could no longer bear to call someone I lusted after day and night a friend. So when that summer came...

I made up my mind to put an end to the whole mess. I know perfectly well that I could have told him how I felt, that I could have made more choices.

But I was a teenager, and I did what I thought was best at the time (ironically, it was the worst mistake).

I took care of two things: improving my closet and my physique. I had a glow up, if you want to put it that way, from being a kid with acne and average clothes, I went from having smooth skin, losing weight and dressing stylishly.

And I ended up telling Max that I didn't want to be friends with him anymore. And so... our friendship came to an end. I preferred to cut all ties so that I would no longer feel that a single hug from him would drive me crazy.

But even though we were no longer friends... I still liked him with every fiber of my being. That was the worst part, I loved him; and now I had nothing. I hadn't stopped liking him but he wasn't my friend anymore either.

I became full of false friends, each one more superficial than the last. And I created a kind of rivalry with Max; in every discipline we both competed in, it would always be an endless dispute, a duel between him and me to see who would beat who.

In the beginning it was fun... But it got tiring every time I had to keep up that facade. What hurt me, though, was that surely his hatred for me was real. And since I couldn't think of anything better. I thought the solution was to start treating him badly, if I started being hostile to him... My feelings for him would disappear, wouldn't they?

Wrong again, now not only had I broken his heart, but I was being a jerk to him. And I got caught in a vicious circle between regretting it, doing it again to try to get rid of the feeling, and realizing that I was still in love with him.

I didn't like the electronic music, the beat...I just didn't like it. But I knew Max did, and soon there would be EDC. One of the best electronic music festivals.

I thought about giving him the ticket as an apology, but as you can tell, sometimes I'm not the best at planning things. So I decided to go to EDC with some friends, and... Try to apologize, I even thought about confessing to her how I felt. What else would I lose?

He wasn't in my life anymore, we weren't friends anymore, I wasted almost my entire adolescence in a silly rivalry with him. There was no more to lose.

I even picked out an outift that was something he thought was cute, I wanted to look good for him. But my attitude was ruining things again.

It was like a defense method that activated every time I saw him, and there I was, having just called him a "dumb gorilla."

— You don't say you like it? – My friend Astrid murmured behind me.

Of all my superficial friends, Astrid was the only one who was real, was a very good friend, and clearly, the only person I had trusted with my secret.

Although like anyone else, she was quite confused about my flirting technique.

—Yes...

— Why don't you tell her how you feel better?

— I can't! Every time I see him, it's like it triggers something automatic that makes me respond to him like this! – Feeling frustrated with myself, I sighed. Before she could answer something, I spoke again – Tsk... I'll go for a walk.

I advanced between the concert tents and booths. I swear I saw two guys duck behind a set of these as they tried to keep their hands away from themselves. And I kept walking, trying to deal with my emotions, until I reached a point far away, there were hardly any people.

— Hey... do you have any spare change? I'm a little short of money for transportation.

A man gave me the scare of my life when he appeared behind me, I turned to see him. He looked like any other person, wearing a random shirt... yeah, he didn't look like a bad guy.

— Uh... Sure – I rummaged a couple of coins in my pants to give him at least fifteen – I don't need them, keep them.

— Man, thanks – he kept them, I just nodded and went back to my thoughts, the silence lasted a while, until he spoke again – You have a dilemma, huh?

— Am I that noticeable? – I didn't know why I was talking to him, but he had a comforting vibe.

— Kind of. More like the question would be, do you want the answer?

— Yes – I didn't hesitate to answer.

— Why don't you try to put yourself in his shoes? Maybe then it will be easier to understand him, or open up to him.

I didn't even think much about why he knew my problems, I just pondered what he was saying.

— You're right – I smiled comfortingly – thank you.

— Nothing to thank you for, buddy. Oh, look – he patted his pockets to take out a coin, it looked very shiny – apparently I have an extra coin, here, thanks.

And without further ado, he left, I took the coin in my hands to caress it, there was a warm sensation in it... But I decided to go back to Astrid.

The rest of the night had gone moderately well, the din of the music was not to my liking, and the feeling that my chance to talk to Max was fading made everything worse.

— Sam, you have to go talk to him now

Astrid murmured as she tried to comfort me.

— I know. But how? I just wish I knew how...

I whispered. It was then that I felt a kind of energy releasing from my pocket, a warmth. At first it was faint, but then it began to burn like iron.

I tried to say something to Astrid but everything around me began to fade and turn dark, I could only hear her anguished voice calling me. The darkness was total until from one moment to the next, like a dizzying rise, everything was filled with colors, scents and sounds.

I blinked a couple of times, trying to adjust to an intense headache, almost as if I had been hit with a brick.

—Ugh... Astrid? – I looked around, finding no sign of my friend.

What was really confusing, though, was noticing my voice; I had a somewhat high-pitched, sweet voice. But now I found myself with a completely strange baritone: masculine, deep.

I looked down, finding two large mounds of muscle barely concealed in a crop top. I felt different... Strong, big. Powerful.

I flexed my new arms, feeling them swell, jeez, it was almost the size of a ball that thing!

I smiled foolishly, I started to poke my new pecs with my finger, feeling the flesh rise and fall with the thrust. I had never had muscles like this, my body was focused more on aesthetics, never on strength.

I lifted my arm again, this time inhaling my new scent

— Gosh, it reeked!

Wait... That scent. I could recognize it anywhere, it was Max's scent!

I immediately took his cell phone out of one of his pockets to open the camera, and it was then that I met his gaze through the lens.

His beard growing... his bushy eyebrows, his dark complexion, my goodness, his muscles...

I was inside the body of the boy I had liked all my life. Now I had his big muscles, his smell...

— Fuck...

I muttered, cupping my pants to feel the huge hunk of meat. I imagined Max to be well endowed but I didn't imagine it like this.

Something I was also obsessing over, even without touching him, just feeling him... were his buttocks.

I could feel how the fabric clung to them, how round they were, or how heavy they felt. Max had certainly molded his body to be almost perfect.

— Hi! Do you want a beer? – a boy suddenly approached me. He looked cute, though his appearance resembled my former self.

— Uh... No, no, thanks. I don't have any money. — Oh no, I'm inviting you. Do you want some?

I blinked in confusion. Was he... flirting with me? On one hand I was flattered, no doubt Max's body was to die for, anyone would have their eye on him. Even though it made me jealous, I wanted him to be mine.

— Sure. Can I order more than one?

— Sure, handsome.

And in less than ten minutes, I was pushing back-to-back beers. I thought Max's body would have a good resistance to alcohol. Once again I was wrong...

—————

— What are you talking about? – Max said annoyed in my body – You're drunk, Samuel!

And he wasn't lying, I was feeling pretty dizzy, heavy...

I know I didn't consider Max to be a dumb jock, but I certainly felt that way right now.

— I'm being honest with you... Look, Max, I...

— Sam, stop it! First you stop being my friend, then you treat me badly, then your only goal is to beat me, and now you've switched bodies! What's wrong with you!?!?

— I like you, Max! – it finally came out of my chest, I had finally said it – I've liked you all my life. I'm sorry I didn't say it before, I'm sorry for treating you badly, I didn't know how to tell you how I felt...

He was silent, just stared at me for a while with a mixture of sternness and anger. Even though he was in my body, his essence was still there, imposing.

Even that trace of power was visible in his eyes.

I looked down, feeling the tears about to come, as he reached up to stand on his tiptoes and kiss me.

I opened my eyes wide, but didn't hesitate for a second to reciprocate the kiss.

— Idiot... – he murmured – I like you too.

— What?

— Yes. I liked you when we were teenagers, even before you changed. Although I must admit, I'm not complaining about how you improved your body.

He smiled, caressing my old abdomen.

— Hey, don't touch – I tried to stop him but he dodged me.

— Ah no, you've been groping and sniffing yourself, in front of everyone. I think you owe me.

I smiled.

— Hey, your body's too hot.... Don't judge me. Just look at these muscles – I flexed my arms with a silly laugh, which made him roll his eyes as he smiled.

— Stop doing that, they're going to think I'm weird.

— You're going to have to give me something else to convince me to stop doing it.

Then he kissed me again. Although now in a more intense way, I could feel his tongue crashing against mine, his hands roaming all over my muscles, I clutched his body against mine. I immediately lifted him up so that he was clinging to my waist with his legs.

— Hey... – he murmured against my lips.

— Yes? – I said, wanting to kiss him again.-

— What did you say about me?... Stinky sporting gorilla? – he seemed to scoff, though in a moment, he managed to start sniffing my armpit, dipping his nose, rubbing between the sweat and the stench, which made me just let out a gasp – You know... I've always liked my smell.

He grinned, before he stuck his face back in to lick and sniff.

To be continued.

---

I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you liked it, don't forget to follow it and share it so more people can discover it. I'm always open to suggestions and ideas, so if you have any fantasy or scenario in mind, let me know in the comments or in messages.

I hope you like all the story about Sam and Max, it start as a little idea, but now i really like how it's going. You could tell me some ideas to continue the story about this two.

This will be my new account, I hope you like the stories that are coming soon. See you in the next story... Who knows what body you will occupy this time?

---

[seat-safety-switch]

There's a whole lot of towns out there that you'll never visit. Most of them are chock full of people you'll never meet. Tulsa, for example. Never been there, might never go there. And that makes me a little sad.

Sure, I only have enough time on this earth to visit so many towns. And when I'm there, I don't have enough time to interrogate every single one of the locals to see if, say, any of them have a set of Mopar F-body windshield wiper linkages sitting in the back of their garage. They'll just go to waste, damned to irrelevance by my lack of time. That's what the MBAs call a "market inefficiency."

The internet has helped, sure, but you can only demand what other people have supplied. Any quick browse on a model-specific forum is full of lonely folks crying out to the heavens for a specific piece of trim, or an entire automatic transmission, that they will never receive. And it's a lot of work to put that stuff up for sale. Who knows what's actually inside that weird pile of oil-stained gewgaws that Pawpaw left behind before he joined that alien cult and drank all that Flavor-Aid? His surviving next-of-kin sure don't know the difference between a 4.11 and a 3.90 rear end, nor are they willing to teach themselves that information in order to list it on eBay for twenty bucks.

Don't worry, though, I have a solution. That solution is that the Boston Dynamics warehouse is not secured very well. Their robots are powered by a two-stroke lawnmower engine: it's like they wanted me to show up with a turbine-generator-powered plasma cutter and chop right through the rebar holding the walls of their robot storage lockup together. After that, it was a quick couple of dozen trips to the local electronics store to get the right USB-to-serial cable, and I soon had my harem of semi-autonomous Parts-Seeking Drones® roving the backwoods of America.

So, if you see a lanky, creaking doglike shape lurking outside your yard tonight, smelling oddly of pre-mix and human arterial blood, let it in your garage. All it wants to do is scan your spare parts so I can find that goddamn last piece of dash trim for the cruise control lever on my Volare. Don't worry: I won't have the robots kill you if you decide not to sell it to me after all. It would be hypocritical of me to judge another hoarder. We'll have coffee when I come see your town for the first time! We can trade junk and be best friends and call each other on the phone afterward and talk about nitrous oxide. No promises on what the robots will do if they search your entire property and don't find any Plymouth Volare stuff, though. I forgot to program that part before I let them out of radio range.

[materialsscienceandengineering]

Inspired by nature: Leaftronics pave way for biodegradable electronics

A research team headed by Prof. Karl Leo at TUD Dresden University of Technology have developed an innovative, nature-inspired solution that could revolutionize the electronics industry: "Leaftronics." This innovative approach leverages the natural structure of leaves to create biodegradable electronic substrates with enhanced properties and offers a sustainable, efficient, and scalable solution to the global-waste problem. These findings have now been published in the journal Science Advances. Electronic devices, from toys to smartphones, consist of circuits. Specific substrates are used to manufacture these circuits. In commercial electronics, these are printed circuit boards (PCBs) made of glass fiber-reinforced epoxy resin.

Read more.

[milkypompon]

The Ruse Ch. 1

pairing: Nathan Bateman x CompanyRival!Reader

summary: Nathan wants to buy out your father's business, but the latter is skeptical of closing the deal with the BlueBook owner. The solution? He's going to seduce you.

content: 18+ mdni, thoughts about sex and kinks, enemies to luvrs

wc: 2.4k

a/n: As requested by a wonderful anon!! THANK YOU, I've been on a bald, billionare kick

beta read by the amazing and adorable... @lovable-liar

|| Next >

Ex Machina || Main Masterlist

“Look, you provided tech parts to BlueBook for almost a decade. Then, you up and left to start making phones, tablets, etcetera with my ideas. And I get that it’s a family-run business. It’s adorable, really.” Nathan sighs and clicks his pen, “But I have to say, in a lack of better terms, you’re running an absolute shitshow.”

Your father leans back on the swivel chair, only one of the twelve occupied because Nathan was pacing around the room, and the other board members weren’t privy to the conversation. 

He was fuming, but he knew that Nathan was right. 

The said shitshow was a repeated cycle — inevitable karma, if you will — that Nathan Bateman, a genius and billionaire, and your father, a now sorry excuse of an entrepreneur, experienced it to the highest degree.

But truthfully, the latter was hit the hardest.

In the past year, your father’s employees designed and crafted the high-end electronics at NovaTech. Over time, they used it as a stepping stone to build their own companies from the ground up, evolving into something worthy of praise. 

He couldn’t keep up with the competition, especially now with the brightest minds walking out.

“I’m doing you a favor by buying you out instead of watching you sink into bankruptcy.” Nathan continues, “Call it an act of a good Samaritan. Or, if you’re not into the hippie bullshit, just see it as me taking back what’s mine.”

Your father frowns. “I bet you’ve been bribing my employees to start working for you, eh?” He throws his hands up in frustration, struggling to find the right words. “It’s all part of a stupid, elaborate plan to drive me out of business!”

Nathan drops the pen, it clatters onto the glass table. He says in a low, steady voice, “Do you seriously think I have time to fuck around?”

He grumbles a “no” and swipes the buy-sell agreement from the manila folder.

“Look at you! Finally coming to your senses.” Nathan opens his arms, an agreeable and friendly stance, though it was anything but that.

“I’m just reading over it again, Bateman. Just making sure you’re not ripping me off.”

“God, it feels like I’m trying to get divorce papers signed.” He tucks the document back into the folder. “Think about it, man. You could throw a retirement party with the greens and have more than enough to tan your ass in Bora Bora.”

—

The next night was the BlueBook Ball, Nathan has a way with words, but it’s a glorified event for rubbing elbows, sickening niceties, and serving tooth-achingly sweet mixed drinks for the wives of big names in the tech field.

Nathan could play the nice guy for only so long. 

He’d been breathing down his own neck to get the documents signed. It was a one-way ticket to the clientele who turned him down because of their loyalty to your father.

In hindsight, he should’ve dealt with the meeting the morning after the gathering while your father was hungover and loose-lipped, ready to nod along with his plan for the buyout.

A perfect yesman. 

Nathan was a scientist first and foremost. 

Hypothetically, he knew it could’ve worked.

And he was a businessman second. 

Technically, he knew others played just as dirty.

Nathan ran a hand down his beard and reminded himself, Just one more night of persuading him and I’ll back down from NovaTech.

Can’t keep on wasting my time.

–

You’re accompanying your father tonight. He stated that it was a gateway to understanding the social aspect of running a business. 

Deep down, you knew it was a sloppy attempt to get you out of your studio and away from tinkering at the new prototypes. 

You begrudgingly agreed because at least it was a chance to abuse the open bar and cling to the side as a wallflower after snagging a few drinks.

But there was the issue of the black-tie attire. In other words, slipping on a tight dress paired with red-bottom stilettos could cause a twisted ankle if you took the wrong step. 

Or danced too hard.

Surely, Nathan Bateman wasn’t the type to throw it back and party like that, right? 

You shake your head, not in a professional setting. 

A faint buzz from the intercom beside your bed draws you out of the bathroom. 

“Hey, sweetie! The helicopter’s here to pick us up.” Your father reminds you.

You check the time on your phone and frown slightly, then press the button on the intercom to reply. “Dad, you said we weren’t leaving for another hour.” 

Another buzz.

“I’m sure they can send another one for you when you’re ready.” 

“Alright, fine. I’ll see you there.”

–

The helicopter ride wasn’t your first, given your father’s affinity for buying new and shiny things for you in hopes of proving that his late hours at the office during your childhood were all worth it—a weak compensation for being raised by maids and butlers.  

The green land and the snow-capped mountains stretching on for miles was a distraction from the thought of showing up without the person who was supposed to be your guide for the night. 

Everyone would be nameless for the time being or blurry faces you’d soon forget. 

You pull the aviation headset over your ears, a thought dawning over you. 

You don’t even know what the host looks like. 

He was surely an enigma, sitting on a fat pile of money and keeping his head down to work on god-knows-what in a facility you were headed to located in the middle of buttfuck Alaska.

Photographers rarely shot photos of him due to his constant refusal to participate in panels, and overall, there were few published sightings of him on the mainland. 

Even then, it was like he took down the photos.

Perks of being one of the wealthiest men alive, you suppose—a false sense of privacy.

The landing, as gentle as it could be from a helicopter, didn’t help to settle the churning at the pit of your stomach. 

A voice from the earpiece cracked to life, “Follow the path. You’ll know when you’re there.”

Before you could ask about the lack of people in sight or even the distant sound of music, the pilot answered your question.

You carefully step out, noticing the stupidly rolled-out red carpet on top of plants and fallen branches. The least he could've done for someone with more money than he could spend was pave a sidewalk.

This must be a sick metaphor. Struggling to walk in nature to find a haven built by a human.

Your ears perk up after about fifteen minutes of walking at the muffled sounds of talking. There were finally signs of life apart from trees and birds. 

No way could you keep walking the last stretch without a break, especially with your calves on fire. All you needed was a hard drink, a bench to sit on, and maybe even a bed for a quick nap. 

The tree stump nearby was the best you could do for now. You veer off the velvet path before your right heel sinks into a mud puddle.

“When I see that man…” you mumble under your breath. Then you were quickly reminded that you wouldn’t recognize him even if he were in front of you.  

There was no point in stopping now; you were late, and now, your right shoe was dirty. 

You trudge on for a few minutes. Standing before you was a wooden facility with glass panels reflecting the foliage. If you looked the right way, it almost blended in, but there were far too many edges and faces. 

A little too perfect. 

Squinting your eyes at the windows inside, you find the guests milling about, politely throwing their heads back to unfunny jokes. A few men were clean-shaven, while others had a trimmed beard. They all had their shoulders rolled back with a champagne flute in hand.

Any of them could be Nathan Bateman. 

Maybe he was close to being six feet under, white-haired with a few loose screws in his head. 

How else was it possible to survive in a place like this?

You surely wouldn’t. 

You unclasp your clutch to find your phone and shoot a text.

Dad, where are you?? 

The message flickered green…

No cell service

He was supposed to dumb down the guests for you tonight, teaching you the whosits and whatsits. But that was the least of your problems.

You’re sure that you’re going to be murdered without a witness as the sunset dips below the horizon. The branches cast shadows against the neighboring trees, a disturbing illusion of a dismembered figure.

You could already imagine the headlines. 

Daughter of NovaTech Gone Missing in Buttfuck Nowhere Alaska!

There was a light chuckle behind you, making you flinch. “Are you lost? There should be a map for a place like this, huh?”

You flick your head back quickly, and a stocky man with a piercing gaze set behind a pair of glasses stares back at you. But his eyes weren’t any less pointed, even with the obstruction. It was as if he knew things you didn’t, keeping the cards close to his chest. Or more like he knew something about yourself that you were only beginning to grasp.

For an audience like this one, he was dressed plainly. A crisp white shirt, taut across his chest, paired with black slacks. You had to give it to him for having the guts to throw the required attire out the window.

Maybe you could get along with this guy.

A non-conformist. 

It’s refreshing.

You offer him a smile. “Yeah, this asshole had us walk what felt like a mile to get here.”

Oh my fucking god… She doesn’t know who I am. The corner of Nathan’s lip twitches up by a degree.

“Yeah, tell me about it. I stripped halfway through the walk.” He plays along with a smirk.

“Explains the whole lax look?”

Nathan pauses for a moment. 

“... Sure. And you?” He cocks his head toward your muddy high heel tucked behind your other one in an attempt to hide it, a cute curtsy, almost. “Is that horse shit?”

“God, I hope not.” You grimace and look down.

Nathan could count on one hand the amount of people that didn’t see him as a potential business partner or an escape during nightly escapades. 

He mentally shakes his head. Maybe having contact with an actual human being was getting to him. Besides, he has to set things straight…

He takes a few careful steps near you as if placating you. When your eyes meet his again, and you don’t pull away, he places his hand on the small of your back.

You could feel the heat through your thin, silk dress. 

“C’mon, I’ve been here a handful of times. Let’s find you a bathroom.”

“And a map while you’re at it.”

He grins. “Like little fold-up ones you find at amusement parks?”

“It’s the only thing that would work around here. God forbid there’s cell service here or something.”

“Dude who owns this place must be an asshole to cut it off like that.”

“Right?!” You bob your head alongside him, grateful to have someone who didn’t feed into the billionaire's bullshittery. 

–

You hate to admit it, but the estate was straight out of Architectural Digest. 

Nathan steers you toward another building. It was a simple square, detached from the main facility, but still held the similar reflective panels, this time on all sides. 

“What’s this?” you prod, dodging a patch of dirt, “A fancy portapotty?”

He fishes out a slim silver card from his back pocket. 

“Is that what I think it is?”

How this man you just met knew the way around the place was beyond you, but you’d do anything at this point to remove the cakey, stickiness of the mud clinging to you.

“Yeah, a keycard. Every main guest gets one, and you haven’t?”

“No, I’m just my father’s plus one tonight, so I’m technically not listed.”

You don’t have to tell him.

Nathan knows exactly who you are.

In his defense, he greenlit the guests tonight by running a background check. He even went the extra mile by requiring them to walk through a metal detector. Especially after the experimental happenings of the Turing test, he wasn’t going to cast a blind eye to an android coming in to hack at him again. 

Or worse, a jealous competitor. 

And that’s exactly what you are. 

Well, not you, necessarily. 

But your father, so by extension, you were a part of whatever plan your father was stirring up. Or at least that’s what Nathan garnered. 

Nathan swore to himself that he wouldn’t act like a petty teenager. But he needs a safeguard to protect his company and decrease the chances of his clients or sponsors from pulling out after they found out about one of his androids going rogue. 

His ego was a liability. Sure enough, to be the cause of his death.

But it also brought him this far, along with his craftiness.

He’ll agree with a quip or two about your annoyance with the BlueBook owner, so you’ll lower your guard. Then boom, bam, thank you, ma’am — dial-up his sweet talk and ease in, persuading you that Nathan fucking Bateman is a trustworthy guy. 

You’ll put in a good word for him to your father. 

“You rarely go to these things, huh?” He tilts his head. 

“Is it that obvious? I usually stay in my studio, drafting up concepts.”

“You’re a designer,” he observes. 

“Something like that.” You shake your head. “But if my dad had a hand deeper into my life, I’d call the shots in NovaTech later down the line instead of playing with paint and wires, or at least that’s what he says.”

And there it was.

“A tortured artist and daddy’s girl,” he takes note.

“Well, how about you? I’m sure you got a sob story of the century to give yourself a buzzcut,” you tease back.

“Smartass.” Nathan presses the keycard against a wall. There was no indication of a slot to insert itself in or tap on—a sleek design hidden from plain view. 

The soft click of the door unlocking brings his attention back to you. “Go ahead, I’ll wait out here. Gotta have you looking your best when we get in there.”

A simple ruse from yours truly.

pt. 2 coming soon (lmk if you'd like to be tagged!)

I'd love to hear your thoughts and my inbox is always open for requests or if you want to chat!

[rjzimmerman]

Excerpt from this story from Mother Jones:

The world generates more than 68 million tons of e-waste every year, according to the UN, enough to fill a convoy of trucks stretching right around the equator. By 2030, the total is projected to reach 75 million tons.

Only 22 percent of that e-waste is collected and recycled, the UN estimates. The rest is dumped, burned, or forgotten—particularly in rich countries, where most people have no convenient way to get rid of their old Samsung Galaxy phones, Xbox controllers, and myriad other gadgets. Indeed, every year, humanity is wasting more than $60 billion worth of so-called critical metals—the ones we need not only for electronics, but also for the hardware of renewable energy, from electric vehicle (EV) batteries to wind turbines.

Millions of Americans, like me, spend their workdays on pursuits that lack any physical manifestation beyond the occasional hard-copy book or memo or report. It’s easy to forget that all these livelihoods rely on machines. And that those machines rely on metals torn from the Earth.

Consider your smartphone. Depending on the model, it can contain up to two-thirds of the elements in the periodic table, including dozens of metals. Some are familiar, like the gold and tin in its circuitry and the nickel in its microphone. Others less so: Tiny flecks of indium make the screen sensitive to the touch of a finger. Europium enhances the colors. Neodymium, dysprosium, and terbium are used to build the tiny mechanism that makes your phone vibrate.

Your phone’s battery contains cobalt, lithium, and nickel. Ditto the ones that power your rechargeable drill, Roomba, and electric toothbrush—not to mention our latest modes of transportation, ranging from plug-in scooters and e-bikes to EVs. A Tesla Model S has as much lithium as up to 10,000 smartphones.

The millions of electric cars and trucks hitting the planet’s roads every year don’t spew pollutants directly, but they’ve got a monstrous appetite for electricity, nearly two-thirds of which still comes from burning fossil fuels—about one-third from coal. Harvesting more of our energy from sunlight and wind, as crucial as that is, entails its own Faustian bargain. Capturing, transmitting, storing, and using that cleaner power requires vast numbers of new machines: wind turbines, solar panels, switching stations, power lines, and batteries large and small.

You see where this is going. Our clean energy future, this global drive to save humanity from the ever-worsening ravages of global warming, depends on critical metals. And we’ll be needing more.

In all of human history, we have extracted some 700 million tons of copper from the Earth. To meet our clean energy goals, we’ll have to mine as much again in 20-odd years. By 2050, the International Energy Agency estimates, global demand for cobalt for EVs alone will soar to five times what it was in 2022. Demand for nickel will be 10 times higher. Lithium, 15 times. “The prospect of a rapid increase in demand for critical minerals—well above anything seen previously in most cases—raises huge questions about the availability and reliability of supply,” the agency warns.

Metals are natural products, but the Earth does not relinquish them willingly. Mining conglomerates rip up forests and grasslands and deserts, blasting apart the underlying rock and soil and hauling out the remains. The ore is processed, smelted, and refined using gargantuan, energy-guzzling, pollution-spewing machines and oceans of chemicals. “Mining done wrong can leave centuries of harm,” says Aimee Boulanger, head of the Initiative for Responsible Mining Assurance, which works with companies to develop more sustainable extraction practices.

The harm is staggering. Metal mining is America’s leading toxic polluter. It has sullied the watersheds of almost half of the rivers in the American West. Chemical leaks and mining runoff foul air and water. The mines also generate mountains of hazardous waste, stored behind dams that have a terrifying tendency to fail. Torrents of poisonous sludge pouring through collapsed tailings dams have contaminated waterways in Brazil, Canada, and elsewhere and killed hundreds of people—in addition to the hundreds, possibly thousands, of miners who die in workplace accidents each year.

To get what they’re after, mining companies devour natural resources on an epic scale. They dig up some 250 tons of ore and waste rock to get just 1 ton of nickel. For copper, the ratio is double that. Just to obtain the metals inside your 4.5-ounce iPhone, 75 pounds of ore had to be pulled up, crushed, and smelted, releasing up to 100 pounds of carbon dioxide. Mining firms also suck up massive quantities of water and deploy fleets of drill rigs, trucks, diggers, and other heavy machinery that collectively belch out up to 7 percent of the world’s greenhouse gas emissions.

Metal recycling is a completely different proposition from recycling the paper and glass we toss into our home bins for pickup. It turns out that retrieving valuable raw materials sustainably from electronic products—toasters, iPhones, power cables—is a fiendishly complex endeavor, requiring many steps carried out in many places. Manufacturing those products required a multistep international supply chain. Recycling them requires a reverse supply chain almost as complicated.

Part of the problem is that our devices typically contain only a small amount of any given metal. In developing countries, though, there are lots of people willing to put in the time and effort required to recover that little bit of value—an estimated tens of thousands of e-waste scavengers in Nigeria alone. Some go door to door with pushcarts, offering to take or even buy unwanted electronics. Others, like Anwar, work the secondhand markets, buying bits of broken gear from small businesses or rescuing them from the trash. Many scavengers earn less than the international poverty wage of about $2.15 per day.

[mostremote]

conclave fic sorta

i have a conclave AU I post about sometimes on the discord where Tedesco is elected Pope and then establishes a fascist dystopia. and then i wrote 2500 words where he has Aldo Bellini publicly castrated for being a sodomite. so here is that.

this is very rough so i won't post it on AO3 but uhhh if you want to read about aldo getting castrated........ here that is.

Under the dystopic regime of Tedesco, now Pope Pius and ruler of New Southern Europe, homosexuals are punished with public castration. Aldo Bellini is the first to be made an example.

It takes weeks for an elastrated scrotum to detach naturally. That’s no good for Tedesco, Pope Pius of the New Rome. How is the spectacle of castrating a homosexual supposed to hold people’s attention for three weeks?

Cardinal Lawrence consults doctors. He finds the best he can in Rome, which is difficult because so many have been executed for crimes against the regime (prescribing birth control, HRT, IVF, etc.). He conveys Tedesco’s dictum: elastrated castration achievable in under 24 hours. To this he has his own addenda: as painless as possible, as safe as possible, oh dear God please ease the suffering of this man.

The doctors consult. They grumble. This is really not within their usual expertise. But they find a solution. Thomas presents the planned procedure to Pope Pius and tries to draw no attention to the insistence on painkillers. But Tedesco sees. Tedesco notices everything. He waves his big and gold-glittering hand in dismissal.

‘Painkillers? We cannot be reborn without pain. We would do a disservice to the man. Chi non risica, non rosica.’

Thomas nods once. He has his marching orders. He gets very drunk that night on the Vatican wine which remains, even now, plentiful. He murmurs Aldo’s name into his pillow in the cardinal dormitory and tries to weep quietly so as not to disturb the other men. He would have cut off his own manhood with a boxcutter if it would spare Aldo, and he would do it gladly. He prays that Tedesco might have mercy, might change his mind, might let Thomas suffer in Aldo’s place. But prayers are so rarely answered in these blighted days.

Thomas visits Aldo’s cell the night before and conveys the intended procedure delicately. The room is dark and smells of mushrooms. Thomas can’t stop crying. Aldo is emaciated and calm but pallid. Long months out of the sun have bleached his rich skin.

‘Hey, at least this way it’ll be over quick,’ he says with a bright smile and a shrug of his wasted shoulder. ‘I hope I can put on a good show.’

The next day, there is a crowd of thousands gathered in St Peter’s basilica. Tedesco is seated on the balcony atop a throne of red and gold, exhaling smoke, the leonine dragon. Thomas has been put in charge of proceedings. It’s just another way to punish him. Keep his nose in it. Let him smell the shit.

Thomas strides to the H-shaped wooden structure that sits at the foot of the obelisk. He pretends to check the restraints, then quickly removes a piece of sandpaper and polishes the splintering wood. He tries to make it as comfortable as he can for his friend.

He has little time to work, however, as jeers of delight erupt from the crowd and tell him the penitent has been brought out. Thomas turns and tries to keep his heart in his chest when he sees his friends. Aldo walks unevenly, flanked by two guards. His eyes are shut tight against the daylight, his weak hand shielding the glare. And it’s such a hot day. Thomas wishes he had thought to remember sunscreen.

The guards bring him to the structure. Aldo comes to a halt beside it and he looks at it as though he is not sure if it is real. His eyes pass over Thomas and glaze over the crowds instead as the guards cut away his hairshirt. Aldo is limp and compliant. His eyes having adjusted, he squints out at the crowd with a polite question. Why have you all come? Is this what you wanted?

‘People of Rome,’ booms Tedesco’s voice, electronically amplified. It hurts Thomas’ ears. ‘We are gathered here to witness the correction of this penitent, a former sodomite, who recants his ways and has accepted purification so that he may be welcomed again into the love of God. Penitent, what have you to say?’

Thomas reaches inside his pocket for the microphone. His fingers are shaky and sweaty as he clicks it on. Aldo still does not look at him when the mic is positioned before his mouth.

Unevenly, Aldo recites the prepared statement. ‘I confess that I am a sodomite. I thank the Holy Father for his mercy and grace in allowing this purification. I pray that I will be welcomed into the bosom of the Lord.’

Cheers crash around them, as well as boos. People had hoped for resistance. They wanted blood.

The guards restrain Aldo facing the horizontal bar, arms outstretched like Christ, head awkwardly bent to one side against the wood. His pale skin gleams in the sun. Thomas’ eyes linger with confusion on his testicles and cannot quite make sense of what is about to happen.

A figure emerges from the basilica all in white, a black bag in hand. The doctor. Thomas dares to step close to his friend and whisper.

‘The pain will be greatest at first. It will get easier. Within six hours you will hardly feel a thing.’

A smile cracks Aldo’s already desiccated mouth. ‘Yeah, I’m sure.’

Then the doctor joins them. They all wait patiently. The doctor seems more interested in the details on the obelisk than the patient. The penitent. The condemned. And then a great gong rings out, and then it begins.

The mechanics are straightforward, relatively speaking. The doctor opens his bag and removes a tiny rubber band and a pair of pliers.

This is the hardest part, Thomas thinks. If he can get through this, it will all be alright.

The band is worked over the testicles and Aldo’s mouth is moving in prayer. Then he releases a shriek that sends a thousand needles through Thomas’ skin, the kind of high pitched sound a badger makes when beaten to death. It is not a sound that belongs in the mouth of Thomas’ clever New York friend. Aldo sucks in air through the sides of his mouth, through his dry teeth, as a second band is affixed. The testicles have reddened, pinched to an impossible point.

‘It’s alright, Aldo,’ Thomas murmurs. No one else can hear him. ‘Only one more to go for now.’

Aldo is staring up at the few clouds. ‘Fucking kyrie eleison,’ he manages, spraying spit.

Unheeding of his patient’s condition, the doctor removes a thermal box which is revealed to be full of ice. He sets this on a little stool with Aldo’s testicles immersed in it. The ice begins to melt in the hot Roman sun.

‘How are you doing, Aldo?’ Thomas asks.

His friend’s eyes are wild. ‘Thomas, I don’t think I can fucking do this. Oh my God. Oh fuck.’

‘You’ll be alright. I will be with you. It’s all very safe and there will be no lasting damage.’ This is a lie: it’s dangerous and sepsis could easily take him, even if he survives the procedure. But what does that matter now? ‘And the pain will lessen. This is the hardest part. You will go numb.’

‘Harden my fucking heart,’ Aldo howls. ‘Please, God, take this fucking pain from me.’

He is too lost in the pain of it all to notice the doctor bending to apply the last bands, but he gives another cracked yell when the fourth and fifth bands are added.

‘That’s all,’ says Thomas lightly. ‘That’s all the bands. Now we just… now we wait.’

Vaguely he hears the press of screaming, jubilant strangers around him. Aldo is crying. He gives a long, low yowl.

‘I should have killed myself,’ says Aldo through the pain. ‘I should have got out of it the day they elected Tedesco…’ His vision unfocuses. ‘Had I been a better man, they would have elected me… Too late… How unfortunate…’

Thomas takes out a bottle of water that Tedesco doesn’t know he brought with him. He can hardly stop him now.

‘Drink, Aldo.’

Aldo does, though much of it spills down his chin. The heat will get worse; it’s only the morning, after all. Twenty-four hours in the Roman sun with your testicles dying. Is this God’s plan?

There is little now for the doctor to do. He changes out the ice when it melts and he takes Aldo’s temperature, but the bands will do the rest of the work. The doctor has an aerosol that he sprays sometimes over the testicles, which makes Aldo gasp in relief. Something to keep the temperature low and to speed necrosis. All they have to do is wait for the flesh to rot.

People get bored after a few hours. There are hawkers selling snacks. Thomas watches Aldo anxiously and asks little questions to check if he’s still coherent. Aldo manages to respond, even when his testicles start to blacken. But in between their talk he sobs and gives increasingly weak screams.

Thomas takes a break to refill the water bottle, throw up in the toilets, and buy some sunscreen. He returns to find Aldo barely conscious, four hours into the procedure. The sun is climbing.

‘Here we go,’ says Thomas brightly, and he massages sunscreen onto Aldo’s reddening skin. ‘This will help. This will make everything a little bit better. How is the pain?’

Aldo is breathing shallowly and the tendons stand out along his arms. ‘Really fucking bad, Thomas.’ Tears drop from his face. ‘How much longer?’

Thomas glances at the great clock. They’re not even a fifth of the way through.

‘A little longer,’ he half-lies. ‘You’ll be alright. Would you like me to talk to you?’

‘I want to die.’

Thomas does not respond to that. Instead he starts to talk. He tells Aldo about the birds he sees when he goes birdwatching back in England, and how different they are to those in Italy. But the starlings are the same, always the same, in their big black clouds wheeling over the Roman sky. How he likes the little robins in winter; their red feathers, their black eyes.

Aldo is trembling.

Thomas’ back hurts from standing for—what, how long? Six hours?—but of course he does not say anything. Much of the crowd has dispersed. Tedesco still sits, staring, transfixed. There is nowhere else he’d rather be. Thomas gives Aldo water and sometimes he looks at the now deep black testicles and prays for a miracle. Please God, let them fall. Once they fall, Aldo can leave. I can bring him painkillers and he can rest.

But there is so long left.

Time ceases to matter. Reapply sunscreen. Give Aldo the water bottle. Thomas feels great relief when the bottle empties; then he can take a break, refill it, rest his head against the cool bathroom tile, retch, pray, and then return to his bound and naked friend. Offer more water. Tell more stories. Which to tell? Silly ones of them in Cambridge together. Does Aldo remember when he got drunk and tried to swim the Cam? How he had stank. And the time that they lay on the Backs and ate brie and drank stolen wine? And the time—

Aldo releases a huge sigh, emotionless but massive, a dying planet of a sigh.

‘Aldo?’

‘It hurts less,’ says Aldo dreamily. ‘It hurts. But less. It’s better.’

The doctor still sits with them, smoking a cigarette, bored and indifferent to the Roman sun, indifferent to Aldo. Thomas examines the testicles. The skin is peeling.

‘Is that a good sign?’ he whispers to the doctor.

He nods, bored. ‘It’s expected. Fifteen more hours, perhaps.’

Fifteen hours. That is so long. Thomas cannot imagine a longer length of time.

‘Soon the sun will set,’ he tells Aldo. ‘It’ll be cooler then.’

Aldo is sunburnt and shaking. His voice is weak. ‘I’m already so cold.’

Thomas frowns at that. The temperatures are approaching forty Celsius. He places a hand against Aldo’s head and finds it cool beneath the slimy sweat.

He drops to the doctor once again. ‘Doctor? He is very cold. Can we do anything?’

‘It’s fine.’ The doctor waves his thermometer. ‘It is expected his temperature will drop. It is normal.’

Nothing here is normal. Aldo’s eyes close. His breathing is odd, uneven, sometimes big and sometimes shallow. Thomas rubs sunscreen into his head and shoulders and back and hopes that this gentle touch will ease something inside him. Tedesco watches the massage of every wasted muscle and Thomas occasionally looks up and holds that abyssal gaze.

At midnight, eighteen hours in, Thomas allows himself to confront the doctor. Aldo hasn’t been conscious in a while.

‘Doctor? They’re all black now. Are we done? Can it be finished?’

The doctor sniffs and leans forward to examine them. Aldo jerks almost imperceptibly as fingers are sunk into black, dead flesh.

‘Nearly,’ he says.

‘How much longer?’

The doctor shrugs. His eyes glaze. What is he thinking of? A wife at home? A good drink and a steak? He is barely even here in this dark hell.

Thomas strokes Aldo’s head. He thinks of how, one day, he will take Aldo to England. They will holiday by the cold North Sea and eat fish and chips. They will take rain-battered walks and drink bad lager at the pub. He strokes that familiar skin and he sings something his mother once sang to him. ‘Oh, danny boy…’

It is nearly dawn. The crowds are bigger again; perhaps there is a livestream to tell them the progress, and perhaps they know the end is nigh. Thomas can’t see any change in the testicles; they’ve been black for hours. Aldo occasionally resurfaces into consciousness and whines and Thomas reassures him that he can go back to sleep, and then he does.

‘Last step,’ announces the doctor. Out of his bag he produces a hammer. Aldo remains unconscious.

‘Try not to hurt him,’ says Thomas, the empty incantation of a man with dead gods.

The doctor holds his hand around the pinched tip of the testicles. The crowd begins to chant rhythmically. Aldo stirs a little but does not wake.

The first blow does not sever the testicles entirely, but Thomas gasps with relief to see them half detach. Black stretched skin holds them dangling at a ridiculous angle. Aldo’s body only shudders. Then there is a second blow—and it’s done. The sac falls. The crowd unleash hysterical glee.

‘Aldo, Aldo,’ murmurs Thomas, running a hand over Aldo’s head. He is so cold. ‘It’s over. It’s finished. We can leave now.’

A smile, or perhaps just a muscle spasm, snatches at the side of Aldo’s mouth. Thomas does not wait for permission from Tedesco. He unties Aldo carefully and the body of his friend collapses, but he is able to catch him. Twenty-four hours standing witness to this abomination and it’s hard to keep Aldo upright, but Thomas manages.

‘We’re going to get you back to the dormitory,’ he whispers, and he ignores the cheers of the crowd as he leads Aldo back into the basilica. ‘Into your nice soft bed. And I’ll make a cup of tea. What would you like to eat? I’ve been saving my rations for you. There is pandoro.’

Aldo does not respond, limp in his arms, skin cool as stone.

‘I have paracetamol, and you can have my pillow and blanket, so you’ll be comfortable. So comfortable.’ He drags the body against his side. Over the roar of the crowd his scraping feet make smooth shhhk motions against the tile. He ought to be heavier. ‘I’ll sit with you as long as you need. You won’t be alone. I will take care of you, Aldo. Do you hear me?’

Thomas does not think Aldo can hear much of anything, and for that he is grateful, because he cannot hear the crowd chanting out sodomita, sodomita! And with his eyes closed, neither can he see Tedesco. Tedesco’s cloak dripping red, Tedesco’s eyes the blackest of bitter toffee. He stands finally and nods once. It is done. You have pleased me. Thomas nods back. He must be thankful.

After all, this could have been so much worse.

[e-wastemart]

E-Waste Mart: Transforming Mumbai's Electronic Waste Management

Do you have old electronic gadgets lying around, gathering dust and cluttering your space? If so, you're not alone. With the rapid advancement of technology, electronic devices have become an indispensable part of our lives. However, this also means that the generation of electronic waste, or e-waste, is at an all-time high. Thankfully, in the bustling city of Mumbai, there is a solution to responsibly manage and recycle e-waste - E-Waste Mart.

What is E-Waste Mart?

E-Waste Mart is a pioneering e-waste management service in Mumbai that aims to address the growing concern of electronic waste. They have taken up the mantle to offer an environmentally friendly way to dispose of and recycle electronic items that have reached the end of their lifecycle. By doing so, they not only reduce the burden on landfills but also prevent hazardous substances from seeping into the soil and water, thus protecting the environment and public health.

Why is E-Waste Management Crucial in Mumbai?

As one of India's most populous and vibrant cities, Mumbai has a substantial appetite for electronic gadgets. With each passing year, countless devices like smartphones, laptops, tablets, and other electronic appliances are discarded in the city. Improper disposal of e-waste can lead to severe consequences, including soil and water contamination and adverse health effects.

E-Waste Mart recognizes the urgency of this issue and offers an efficient way to tackle it. By promoting responsible e-waste recycling, they play a crucial role in mitigating environmental hazards while also contributing to resource conservation through sustainable practices.

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E-Waste Collection: E-Waste Mart provides convenient collection services for e-waste from residential and commercial spaces. They have established collection points at various locations across Mumbai, making it hassle-free for individuals and businesses to participate in responsible recycling.

Data Security: The team at E-Waste Mart understands the importance of data security when it comes to disposing of old gadgets. They ensure that all data-containing devices are handled with the utmost confidentiality, and proper data erasure procedures are followed.

Eco-Friendly Recycling: E-Waste Mart collaborates with authorized recycling centers to ensure that the e-waste is treated and recycled in an environmentally friendly manner. This way, they adhere to all the necessary guidelines and regulations while striving for a greener future.

Awareness Programs: Besides their core services, E-Waste Mart is committed to spreading awareness about the significance of responsible e-waste management. Through workshops and educational programs, they engage with communities, schools, and organizations to foster a sense of environmental responsibility.

How to Connect with E-Waste Mart:

If you're eager to contribute to the betterment of Mumbai's environment and want to responsibly dispose of your e-waste, visit the E-Waste Mart website. There, you will find all the necessary information about their services, collection points, and contact details.

Join hands with E-Waste Mart to make Mumbai a cleaner, greener, and more sustainable city. Let's take a step towards a brighter future by recycling our electronic waste responsibly!

Visit the E-Waste Mart website today to know more about E waste management or E waste recycling in Mumbai.

Remember, a small step from you can make a significant difference for our environment and future generations. Let's be responsible and together create a cleaner and healthier Mumbai!