#magazine of forensic

[forensicfield]

Forensic Science E-Magazine (Oct-Nov-Dec 2023)

We proudly present the Oct-Nov-Dec issue (Vol 18) of your favorite magazine, Forensic Science E-Magazine. As usual, the magazine's current issue has helpful content related to forensic science. Our editorial team works diligently to deliver the study material while keeping in mind the needs of our valued readers. We are confident that if you read it attentively and patiently, it will go a long way toward giving you the information you need to tackle the difficult process of the exams and study and bring you certain knowledge and victory.

Reputable authors have provided several important pieces on forensic science and science in the current edition. A variety of questions collected from various competitive exams are included in the magazine's most important section.

Contents:

1. Mad Honey: A Comprehensive Overview of Origin, Characteristics, and Medicinal Uses

2. Forensic Entomology and the Role of Diptera in Forensic Science

3. Forensic Podiatry: A Comprehensive Overview

4. Stages of decomposition and estimation of the Post Mortem Interval

5. Glass Fractures

6. Saliva Examination

7. Methods Used for Removal of Serial Numbers in the case of stolen weapons

8. What should a forensic expert do?

9. Forensic Ballistics Experts QnA

10. Definition and Types of Crime

11. ESDA

[aliceinborderlandteatime]

In this edition, we will talk about the next few things:

@game-of-clubs has been seen wearing pants

@shiiibukiii , @an-from-forensics , @mira-hearts-queen have committed a murder together.

@biggunsaguni @niragi-of-bitches @herculesgarcia @boss-of-the-beach and @somatheking are doing Magic Mike sexy shows.

@cassiopeiagarcia broke@somatheking's heart

Is @hinataxsunshine scared of guns?

[basicallyanotherwitchesthing]

The Best of FORUM, The International Journal of Human Relations - Volume 2, Number 7, April 1973 (cover illustration by Pierre Lacombe)

[gold-onthe-inside]

hamelin

who? spencer reid (s6/7) x mayor!reader summary: spencer's the first person you think to call when the kidnapper attacks your home. content warnings: animal gore, kissing (no smut) word count: 3.5k (a lot of stuff goes down, okay) a/n: part two to diplomat, ending is open ended (i couldn't decide what happens next and this fic is long enough already)

It’s late when you get back home from city hall, briefings from that day and agendas for tomorrow tucked under your arm and fumbling for your keys and finally unlocking your front door. You moved to switch the light on, dumping your folder and keys on the top of a cabinet and closed the door. There’s a relief that comes with closing the door, the version of you that is so carefully made up for the public eye shedding away.

You took off your heels, turning around to set them on the centre table in the lobby of the mayoral residence, when you let out a strangled scream — dozens of slain rats pooled in front of the staircase, your heart beating frenetically. Your heels clattered to the floor, shaky hands moving to call the first person that came to mind as you retreat back to your car, leaving your door open. Pick up, pick up, pick up—”

“Hello?”

“Someone’s broken in, there’s-there’s rats and blood everywhere,” you gush instantly, switching the cell phone between hands and tearing your car door open and slamming it behind you before locking yourself in.

"Can you stay where you are? I'm coming now- stay there-" he said, as he stood up abruptly, grabbing his coat and his satchel. "Prentiss-" He called out. "Can you come with me? I have to check on someone."

Meanwhile, you fumble quickly through your glove compartment, finding the handgun you carried, slotting the magazine in place and cocking it before sliding back in your seat, starting to wonder if you should’ve just called the chief of police instead. As the minutes tick by, you curse yourself for what you’ve done. You can imagine the questions that’ll get asked when this is over — why was he the first person you called? Why wasn’t the chief of police involved? More importantly, if you couldn’t keep yourself safe, how were you supposed to keep your city safe?

The tap on your window scares you, raising your gun into Spencer’s face at the shotgun window, and you let out a soft breath of relief, switching the safety on and releasing the magazine before putting it all back in your glove compartment. Agent Morgan stepped out of your house, along with Agent Hotchner, and as you get out of your car, Agent Prentiss holds the door open for you, closing it behind you.

“Are you okay?” she asked and you nodded, trying to maintain some semblance of professionalism.

“I’ll be better once we find out who did this.” You looked back at your house, trying to ignore the sympathetic look Emily was giving you. You feel numb as Aaron explains the process to you, and you might as well be a child for all the power you wield — that forensics will need to take over the scene before they can do any actual profiling, that they need to do a cognitive interview.

“I'll need to speak with my office,” you manage to get out in as mature a voice as you can, considering. It's not like you haven't gotten death and assault threats before, what female politician didn't? But something about this felt different, it felt real.

Emily's grown up in your world, in the world of appearances and stiff backs and false smiles, so she convinces Aaron to take you back to city hall, let you get a handle on things before doing an interview.

Spencer watched you the entire time from the rear mirror of the car, the way you slipped into business mode on the drive to City Hall. It was all so foreign to him, the way you soldiered through this. He remembered a time when seeing a dead pigeon had made you tremble and he’d had to hold you in your arms and tell you everything was alright. It was a far cry from what he was seeing now, and for a moment, he even felt a slight disconnect.

He felt completely out of place from your life, watching you approve clothes for a press conference, your secretary directing hair and make-up to your office, listening to a speechwriter read out your statement for you and making amendments without a single tell that any of this was getting to you. At least, not until Mandy arrived.

“So, we’ll do the first one outside City Hall,” she began immediately, right behind you as you waved away the make-up artist, standing up to pay attention to your campaign manager. “Once the residence is cleared by the police, we’ll do a second one there. We also have a response prepared for a potential recall—”

“Recall?” you demanded, turning to look at Mandy. “We’re in the middle of the campaign.”

“They’re saying that public trust is gonna drop 13% by the end of tomorrow’s news cycle,” Mandy said, widening her arms helplessly. “Perry’s changed his entire campaign to be tougher on crime,” she said, looking at her clipboard, oblivious to the anxiety that was starting to overwhelm you as your hands fidget at your side — anxiety that Spencer was all too familiar with.

“Mandy, I think- I think she needs a minute-“ he spoke up, moving a little closer to you, but keeping his words gentle, not touching you. “I don’t think we need to overload her with all of this right now-“ his gaze flickered to yours, giving you an encouraging nod.

“We’ll deal with a potential recall after tonight’s conference,” you said, finding your centre of gravity in Spencer’s eyes. “I have a statement to revise.” Your speechwriter left the sheet on your desk with a sheepish smile before walking out, your stylists packing up to leave, and Mandy half-glaring at Spencer for obstructing her job twice now before leaving. The door clicked shut and you let out a breath of relief, sagging against your desk to pick up your cue cards while Spencer stepped forward, plucking them out of your hands. “Spence,” you protested but it melted under his look.

“You haven’t taken a minute to process what happened,” Spencer said, his voice gentle but insistent.

“I don’t have the time—”

“Then make the time,” Spencer said firmly, interrupting you swiftly and you pursed your lips at him. That hadn’t changed. “Your home was broken into and your floor was covered in dead rats, and you’re gonna go on like nothing happened?”

“This isn’t about me,” you replied patiently. “This is about the city needing to feel safe—”

“The city isn’t safe, and you telling them otherwise is… It’s patronising and it’s belittling their intelligence,” Spencer retorted and it was unfair because he was right.

“I can’t believe I’m taking political advice from a STEM major,” you muttered, moving to sit behind your desk and pull out a fresh sheet of paper.

“I can’t believe I’m giving it,” he pointed out, and he stepped around to the front of your desk, placing a hand atop yours, and sitting himself directly in front of you, forcing eye contact. “What do you need?” He looked at you, and he gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

"Twenty minutes to write a new speech and a lot of coffee," you said.

“I’ve got you,” he said, and disappeared around the corner, reappearing a minute later with a pot of coffee and two mugs, and he poured one for you and one for him, setting it on the desk, just like old times. It was hard to concentrate with the smell of the coffee and Spencer’s cologne right in front of you, and you took a quick sip before setting the cup down and writing your speech.

You soldiered through your speech, putting on your best face, and Spencer pulled you away from Mandy who was trying to get you to take this threat of a recall seriously, setting you up in a secure hotel room instead. “You really don’t have to do this,” you said, sitting cross-legged by the foot of the bed as Spencer checked the windows were locked.

“We need to make sure you’re safe. If you go back home, there’s a stronger likelihood that he’ll come after you this time,” Spencer said, closing the curtains over the windows. “He’ll think you aren’t taking him seriously.”

“I don’t understand how he could just break in,” you said, rubbing your face tiredly, and Spencer pulled up a chair in front of you to sit down, face to face when you look up.

“Morgan and Rossi are looking into it, we’ll get you answers,” he assured you, pressing his hand to your knee and you sighed.

“What are the chances that this is connected to the missing kids?” you asked and Spencer frowned, retracting his hand.

“The working hypothesis was that a disgruntled parent might have done it, but leaving that many rats behind—” Just the mention of the creatures seemed to cause you pain, a wince crossing your expression at the memory of it. “—doesn’t seem plausible for just any parent to pull off. Was there anyone specifically angry at you?”

You chewed your bottom lip, shaking your head. “Not enough to do this. I was expecting getting tomatoes thrown at me or something.”

Spencer frowned. “Tomatoes is oddly specific,” he noted and you shrugged.

“I had these parents corner me after a council meeting, asking me why I was more focused on county fairs than looking for their kids,” you said, looking down at your hands and picking at your thumbnail. “I write policies and draft budgets. I can’t find a mass abductor, and people expect me to put more pressure on the police force as if they’re not doing everything they can. We can’t just close off an entire district forever. And the protocol says that after the first 24 hours…”

“For a regular child abduction,” Spencer told you. “This is different. He hijacked a school bus and abducted over 30 kids. It’s unprecedented, there’s no protocol for this.”

You swallowed before you looked at him, your expression cloudy and downcast. “I’m gonna lose my job,” you whispered, tears rimming your eyes and Spencer’s hands cupped your cheeks, thumbing the tears away like they had ten years ago.

“Hey, no, you’re not,” he insisted softly. “Noone’s done more for this city than you have.”

“Like that matters,” you muttered, wanting to cry some more but his hands were so warm and comforting that you just closed your eyes. “All Perry has to do is promise to deliver. I’m the one who has to actually do the work, and no matter what I do, I get criticized for it.”

“Well, then, they’re idiots,” Spencer said matter-of-factly. “You don’t wanna be a mayor of a town of idiots, do you?” he asked and you snorted gently, laughing as he shifted to sit next to you, and he felt you curl into him, so he rubs your arm, following his instincts.

“Thank you for being here,” you murmured into his chest, his woollen sweater vest warm against your cheek, your fingers playing with the hem of it.

“There’s nothing to thank me for,” he replied, pressing a kiss to your hair, his hand on your arm stilling. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

“Sap,” you muttered, making him smile a little, one you can feel as he presses his lips to your hair. “You could’ve called,” you murmured, still playing with his sweater.

“I didn’t think I was allowed to,” he replied quietly. “You were so mad that night.”

“Ten years ago,” you reminded him, pulling away to look at him. “You thought I was gonna be mad at you forever?”

Spencer looked at his hands, long spindly fingers meant to lace through yours. “I didn’t have any evidence to believe otherwise.” He looked at you with those glassy hazel eyes that made you melt. “I screwed up,” he murmured. “But I was so afraid you’d look at me like everyone else.”

“Spence,” you whispered, shifting closer, knee pressing against his thigh. “There is more to a person’s character than their reputation, or their qualifications.” You cupped his face the way you used to, his cheek slightly rougher than before, and the briefest thought flickered across your mind — does he still kiss like he used to? You swatted it away, focusing on the conversation at hand. “There is so much more to you than your PhD.”

“PhDs,” he corrected quietly, and you snorted quietly.

“You got more of them?”

“Math, engineering, chemistry.”

“Does that make you Dr. Dr. Dr. Reid?” you asked and Spencer shook his head, your hand dropping to his lap.

“That’s not how it works.”

“Well, how else will people know you’re a multi-PhD holder?” you asked, teasing.

“Shut up,” he muttered, kissing you, his hands sweeping up to cup your face, holding your jaw like it belonged to him. You were wrong. He doesn’t kiss like he used to. Not tentative or hesitant, but confident and breath-stealing, each move precise and purposeful as he took pauses in just the right places to make you needier, smiling as you chased his lips greedily. His fingers threaded into your hair, like he still remembered how to drive you insane, still holding your face close to his as he pulled away for breath, feeling yours fan over his lips. “I wanted to do that all day,” he whispered, nudging his nose against yours.

“I…” You had no words, opening your eyes to look at him, your head all cloudy and dazed and Spencer wanted to laugh, hands dropping to his lap. You, who had an argument for everything, the debate captain who always won, who had a retort armed at all times, had been struck speechless.

“Need a minute?” he asked, smirking and you wanted to hit him. You definitely wanted to kiss him. His smirk dropped as he saw concern flit across your face. “What is it?” he asked, starting to panic just a little. “Did I… No, I should’ve asked first—”

You shook your head. “No, well, I mean, yes, you could’ve asked first but that’s not…” You dropped your gaze, stopping yourself from taking his hand. “You’re leaving,” you said quietly and he frowned. “Once you find this guy… I won’t see you again,” you said matter-of-factly, blinking away the sting in your eyes.

“I… I can visit,” he offered lamely and you looked up, tilting your head at him.

“You won’t,” you said quietly. “And you shouldn’t. This part of your life ended ten years ago.”

“I don’t want it to,” he whispered.

“If your team hadn’t been called in to find these kids,” you asked softly, “would you have ever thought about me again?”

“Don’t say that,” Spencer insisted, taking your hand in his. I still love you, he thought. “We’re gonna find these kids, and this guy who’s harassing you, and… And we can figure this out too.”

Wishful thinking, you thought, but his hand felt so warm in yours, his heart on his sleeve, bleeding in front of you. You can’t dash his hopes, even though a part of you thinks he’ll be better off that way. “Okay,” you said instead, and his phone buzzed, forcing him to pull it out of his pocket and step away to answer Morgan. You can hear bits and pieces from Spencer’s side.

“Yeah, she’s with me… I already asked her, she doesn’t know… I can ask, yeah. If it is him, I’d rather stay here, make sure she’s safe… If there’s the slimmest chance that he comes here instead, I’m not taking the risk, Morgan.”

You rubbed your wrist, waiting for him to return. “Do you know a Perry Williams?” he asked, showing you a picture of the man, his voice on FBI mode and it creeped you out.

“Should I?” you asked, frowning.

“He used to be a pest controller, did work all over town, and he was at the school when it burned down four years ago,” Spencer said, slipping his hands in his pockets. “Right around where your first term started.”

You shook your head, frowning, not remembering the name or the face. “No, I don’t. But one of my first acts as mayor was to award the firefighters at the school,” you said. “I… I can’t remember their names either.”

Spencer said nothing, calling someone else instead, leaving you to twiddle your thumbs. “Garcia, can you look into firefighters associated with the school fire?” he asked and you were starting to feel restless, watching him work instead. “Huh,” he said, his expression puzzled. You watched him put the phone away again and turn to you. “Apparently, the firefighter you awarded implied to the press that the reason the fire got so bad was because of Williams, saying that the pesticide chemicals made the fire worse. When Williams recovered from his burns, that firefighter became his first victim.”

“What?” you asked. “Wh-How?”

“You don’t want to know,” Spencer said and you stood up to face him.

“Don’t tell me what I want or what I can’t handle, just tell me the truth,” you retorted firmly and he let out a breath.

“He was beaten to death in his own home and then set on fire,” Spencer said, watching you process that.

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered, running a hand through your hair.

“The records also said,” Spencer continued, slowly this time, measuring your reaction, “that he tried to get a meeting with you multiple times but he was denied.”

You stared at him. “So he kidnapped an entire schoolbus of kids?” you demanded. “Are you kidding me? Who does that?”

“It was multiple stressors piling on,” he said patiently. “He was recovering from his burns for the better part of a year, he lost his job, plus the separation from his wife, add that the city’s hero blames him for the fire, and the fact that he’s going unheard… so he did a drastic thing.”

“So now what?” you asked.

“The team’s checking his place, and any other locations he might go to, and hopefully, we’ll find him before morning.”

“Great,” you muttered, sitting back on the foot of the bed, hands grasping the edge, and Spencer knelt in front of you, placing a warm hand on your knee.

“We will find him,” he assured you. “Believe it or not, we’re very good at what we do.”

“Yeah, I know,” you murmured, tucking hair behind your ear, and looking down at him. A moment passed like that, just both of you looking at each other, different in so many ways, and in so many ways, still the same. Spencer wet his lips, getting up eventually.

“You should get some sleep,” he said and you frowned.

“Just me?”

“Well, I need to be up, in case anything changes,” he said and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Or maybe you just want an excuse to watch me sleep,” you retorted, making him blush.

“What? No, I-I don’t want— I mean, I don’t—” He’s cut off by your little laugh and his attempt at a scowl came out more as a pout as he moved to sit beside you. “You’re mean,” he mumbled and you laced your fingers into his, raising it to kiss his knuckles, then pressing your interlocked hands to your chest.

You can’t sleep and he’s not supposed to, so you end up curled into his side, hand in hand, while he tells you what the last ten years have been like — about being recruited and abandoned by Gideon, meeting Derek who would become arguably his best friend (you narrowed your eyes at that, a flare of jealousy that he kisses away, reminding you of your place in his heart), and stories about cases. By 2am, he’s telling you all about Riley and how his dad had helped cover up the murder of his killer, all to protect his mom from having witnessed it, and you’re hanging onto every word, until his phone buzzes with a text.

Derek: We got him. Kids are all accounted for. Tell your girl.

“They found the kids,” Spencer said first, knowing that would bring you more relief than just telling you that they found Williams. He’s right, too, noticing how your eyes close and you take a deep, calm breath.

“Thank God,” you murmured.

“They’ve got Williams in custody too. You could probably go home in the morning,” Spencer continued, watching you nod, the tight coil in your chest unravelling.

“And you?” you asked, looking up at him, memorising his face now.

“What about me?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow, noting the huff that leaves your nose.

“When do you have to leave?”

“Under normal circumstances? We make sure the PD and the DA have enough to prosecute. Sometimes they don’t have enough evidence, so we stick around for a confession, but otherwise, we leave when the jet’s available.”

You nodded stiffly, lips pressed together. “This isn’t normal circumstances, though,” Spencer continued and you glanced at him.

“It’s not?”

He looked at you with a kind of fondness that you’ve only ever associated with him. “Normal circumstances don’t include you.”

[yanoverload]

Yandere Serial Killer

Here everyone! Again sorry for the mess with changing the order of release, but it is what it is, anyway *punching yandere serial killer into a pulp cutely*

I love detective x serial killer, but I always wanted to see a defense lawyer x serial killer, you two have the same principle, but took different paths you know? 

Also the hate from one and obsession from the other. Yummy.

Being a defense attorney was a herculean task sometimes.

Accusing people of anything is the easiest part, you thought, but to defend someone you just met a few weeks ago? Exhausting.

But you never got into law school to have an easy job. You made it so far, so you could bring justice to the crooked system.

Your father was accused of a crime he never committed, put on death row when you were still a babe. Never will your family forget the looks of disgust received. It's easy to frame a poor family. Imagine the anguish the rich guy, your dad's boss, the one that actually did the deed, must feel.

As if. He is probably snickering at how his attorney was worth every corrupted dime.

Never should anyone go through the tears your grandparents did when they had to say goodbye to their only son. Never again will your mom be ostracized for being a single mother, the wife of a criminal.

Defending the injusticed was your life goal, to bring the actual monsters to their own consequences was your pride and joy, and damn were you good at your job.

But things got a bit mixed when corpses started to show up.

Before the culprits you helped sentence could pay for their deeds, they would be found dead, put in a twisted artistic display by the freak that did it.

Exhausting.

Thank fuck you had strong alibis and a great reputation amongst the public, because if not, you figured you would be suspect number 0.

Whoever did it, was apparently playing vigilante with your own life. And you hated it.

But people talk. And they were starting to love it.

It's funny how public justice works sometimes. That was never your intent. It started as a form of revenge sure, but it was first and foremost to help the disgraced.

When your dad's old boss was found mushed beyond recognition is when your mind decided enough was enough.

You tell the people closest to you, your police colleagues, other lawyers you respect, the forensic doctors you spent nights with, that you plan to resign.

They tell you not to, that you should keep doing what you love. But you can't handle the guilt anymore. 

Saying goodbye to the police chief after your conversation about the retirement, you find a letter at your doorstep. It smells like fancy perfume. You are certain it is only a family member of one of your clients, but how would they know where you live?

The letter was like those with cut magazine letters, and you feel a shiver down your spine. While you read, you feel like you're being watched.

"Why would you retire? I did for you silly. To see your work, you defend the innocent. You don't understand how we are one in the same.

How would you feel if an innocent was convicted and you did nothing, because you left the law? Because it CAN happen."

You feel your blood rising, and you crumpled the letter full of hate

This motherfucker. They are worse than hell on earth.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Some more facts about him! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Heo Dae-ho (name is Dae-ho, surname is Heo) is a prodigy law student, he has everything, money, looks, and an influential family. 

His mom is a heart surgeon, his dad a forensic doctor.

His parents are strict but loving. They would do anything for their baby boy.

At first they were worried that Dae-ho would be a bum, since even though at school he was captain of the swimming team, had multiple trophies in whatever you could imagine, he had no passion in his steps.

They knew their child was different. But what else could they do apart from loving him and raising him? They also had an image to maintain.

That was until he mentioned wanting to go to law school. Dad was happy, it wasn't medical school, but it was still a great choice.

Mom thanked the gods her son wouldn't touch those in need of medical care, but she would never say that.

His parents are Korean immigrants. He can speak English and Korean, a bit of French.

Never had any flings at college. He is saving himself for you.

Probably has a fanclub of people that love him at college, and one for his.... Other persona.

Has been in your trials before to "learn".

Height: 181 cm (5'11 feet)

[liesmyth]

top 5 griddlehark fics?

omg listen it's so hard to pick ONLY five. I tried

Hooters Across the Houses by glitterpig [additional tag: porn magazines. Just run with it]

Dear BladeBabe9, I read your story. You sound single lmao - Necr0mantic

If you're doing it right you'll break their ribs by @nectarine-pit [casefic, set during GtN]

"How do you know Nonagesimus has gone somewhere dangerous?" asked Isaac. "Have you wired some kind of alert system?"

Mortification of the Flesh by @theriverbeyond [Harrow Nova AU, graphic depiction of violence]

In the myriadic year of our Lord—the ten thousandth year of the King Undying, the Lord of the Sharpest Edge!—Harrow Nova challenged the cavalier of the Ninth for his title.

never hear the sound of someone calling me home by @corpsesoldier [post NtN]

Kiriona Gaia returns to the House of the Ninth.

Violent Sun by eggsinskillet

Harrowhark Nonagesimus, Black Anchorite and the first Ninth soldier to ever grace the Cohort in millennia, is partnered with a dashingly handsome and incredibly annoying coffee slinger. (Bari Star AU)

Bonus!! Modern AU, ongoing: Mors Vincit Omnia by @four-for-fidelity

Working security at an architectural firm isn't the thrilling career Gideon had seen for herself, but it pays the bills. When a series of gruesome murders take place, she finds herself dragged into the path of her childhood tormentor, now a well-respected forensic anthropologist. Together they get pulled under by the current of desecration and accusation, fighting for truth as unlikely allies.

[shitpostingkats]

Susato and Iris drive me so insane. Susato, the classy, ideal japanese young lady, who spent her whole life studying to leave and see england, who gets english magazines shipped internationally to her home and loves them so much she tries to learn to play the violin (or at least, the closest she can get to it) Susato, who learns to be an investigative assistant. Susato, the sakura blossom, the traditionalist, who prefers her tea with milk and sugar and spars with a boxer and is a natural when learning from a british pickpocket, and looks up to Sholmes. Susato, who takes to London with wide eyed enthusiasm and proficiency.

Iris, the doctor, who styles herself in the image of her absent father; a medic, a writer, a supporter. Iris, who teaches herself japanese morse code and names her cat after influential japanese literature, who discovers her joy of matcha and studies forensic science. Iris, who takes an immediate shine to Ryunosuke and Natsume, Iris who is named after Ayame. Iris, the royal flower of europe, the inventor and future seeker, who tries with all her might to be like that father she reads about. The way they both long for the life the other one has. The way they both strive to live up to each others fathers, they joy they take in sharing their cultures, the declaration of family, not through their shared fathers, but to each other.

Sisters of all time.

[vintagetvstars]

David McCallum Vs. David Selby

Propaganda

David McCallum - (The Man From U.N.C.L.E, Colditz, The Outer Limits) - He became one of the hottest leading men of 1960s tv with The Man from U.N.C.L.E., and McCallum received more fan mail than any other actor in Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer's history, including such popular MGM movie stars as Clark Gable and Elvis Presley. He turned his Russian character from side-kick to co-star in one season during the height of the cold war. Artists wrote hit camp songs about his character like "Love Ya, Illya"

David Selby - (Dark Shadows, Falcon Crest) - VERY handsome. 16 magazine had articles about him for a reason. Does such a good job as Quentin, every moment he's onscreen is a delight. He's funny, he's evil, he's Going Thru It, he's being stupid, WHATEVER it is he's great at it. So tall in the 1960s you can clearly see him having to duck through some doorways onscreen, and still pretty darn tall as an old man. (I actually just met him recently and got his autograph, he was very nice!) If tumblr was around in the 1960s he would have been prime tumblr sexyman material.

Master Poll List | How to submit propaganda | What is vintage? (FAQ)

Additional propaganda below the cut

David McCallum:

Everyone knows him as Ducky from NCIS or Ashley Pitt from The Great Escape, but David McCallum was also the original Man From UNCLE, for which role he recieved record setting amounts of fan mail. Was considered to play the Doctor. Charles Bronson stole his first wife, but his second marriage lasted over 55 years, until his death, so who's the winner here.

He became an expert on forensics during his time with JAG/NCIS and attended multiple medical examiner conventions for research.

A classically trained musician, he created several instrumental albums in the 60's his biggest hit is a cover of The Edge which has appeared in movies and video games and sampled by rap artists.

David Selby:

Dark Shadows was a daily soap opera in the 60's and that means that unless an actor swore or something truly heinous happened all mistakes are just there for our viewing pleasure.

Here have this video of his character and another dude right after trying to summon the devil

I love David Selby and I love David Selby as Quentin Collins (all of them). He plays the tragic, disaster, self-absorbed "hero" so well and is one of the original wet cat men of TV.

Also this incredibly gay scene of those two characters

TW: Gypsy Slur

[laurelwen]

Obscure Media: Encore VFX Article

Brought to us courtesy of @widowswinter, who's been working hard to dredge up these gems from the past.

We've all seen this cover by now, but in case you didn't know, Encore was an Australian film trade magazine. It switched to an online format and then seems to have ceased publication around 2013. Some of their articles can be found at https://mumbrella.com.au/, but none going back to 2006. Widowswinter accessed this article via the National Library of Australia, which houses physical copies of the magazine and will make copies/scans of some of their collection.

Full Article and a plain text version below the break:

ENCORE I 22 I V24 ISSUE 2, FEBRUARY, 2006

Digital effects were integral to writer/director Gregory Read's Like Minds, the UK/Australian psychological thriller starring Toni Collette, Richard Roxburgh, Eddie Redmayne and Tom Sturridge.  

With production split evenly between Australia and England, where the story is set, the dual role of the DFX was to heighten the in camera drama, and to solve problems created by on-set limitations and impracticalities. This was especially true for the film's opening train sequence during which schoolboys hang outside the door of a train travelling at 80 km/h, playing 'chicken' with the rapidly advancing stanchions (posts that support the overhead electric wires).

"Even if we could shoot the whole scene on a live train travelling at speed, getting the angles in and out of the train with the presence of real stanchions isn't realistic, not to mention the danger of attempting such a live sequence," said Read, who consulted with DOP Nigel Bluck and VFX supervisor Dave Morley, of Sydney-based VFX house Fuel International, to determine the best way to shoot this scene. "The upshot was to have two shoots; the first being the boys on a live train minus stanchions, travelling at its top speed of 20km/h. We used a wind cannon and lighting rig to emulate speed. The boys were cabled into the train, which gave them the opportunity to hang out, feel the 'rush' and give me the performance I wanted . The rest of the scene was shot in a shed with two very big guys rocking the train."

Like Minds features Collette in the role of a forensic psychologist appointed by police to determine whether there's enough evidence to lay murder charges against 17-year old Alex (Redmayne), accused in the shotgun death of his schoolmate Nigel (Sturridge).

The train scenes were initially earmarked to be shot in Adelaide but the unavailability of a suitable 1970s-style electric train meant the production shifted to a train museum located in Cessnock, NSW. Fresh stumbling blocks at the new location included a train carriage without a front engine and the absence of on location electricity; factors which necessitated the deployment of a bright yellow ex-BHP locomotive to propel the 'electric' carriage backwards and forwards at a maximum travelling speed of just 20km/h.

Fuel's task included the creation of the CG stanchions, which Read wanted to "crash into frame very close to the carriage then vanish into shadow".

"The shot required the stanchion to race towards the boys, barely missing one of them. However, when the stanchion was put in it just didn't look right so David [Morley] gradually scaled up the stanchion to 300 percent as it raced towards us so that it worked, visually and dynamically. As an added effect, when this stanchion slams past it actually hits the camera on which David introduced shudder."

Morley's team rigged up a series of par cans (stage lights) attached to a programmable lighting desk that enabled them to set the speed of lights turning on and off in series to simulate the feel of the stanchions travelling past the carriage at the desired speed of 80 km/h.

"Each of the CG stanchions has its own light pointing down towards the train and we used the par cans to give us the motion of the light travelling past," Morley said. "We built CG stanchions to match the style of what they have over in England, and from reference gathered off the web and footage Greg shot in England, then tracked them in and composited them all together."

When working on shots looking down the length of the train, the ground plane was sped up 400 percent. This was done to disguise the fact that the train was actually only travelling at 20 km/h.

"That would get put back in and then we'd have the CG stanchions over the top of that," said Morley. 'There was normally only one extra carriage behind the one that we were working on, so we ended up having to extend extra carriages as well. Because we only had one train rigged with the lights we ended up shifting the camera up one carriage length then duplicating this carriage for the two missing carriages."

The variance in visible rainfall during the Cessnock shoot presented another problem to be solved.  

"We'd set up to get the master shot, which was a very large crane shot moving down onto the railway tracks from about 30 feet up," Read explained. "In this environment we had two large rain towers with rotating heads which produced heavy rainfall, however when we swung  around to shoot reverse shots there was very little backlight and the rainfall was barely visible. We knew we didn't have time to move lights - let alone the travelling train in the background where the lights would need to stand. It was a matter of placing CG rain into the background of those shots so they matched the master."

Like Minds is set in the middle of the English winter. Obviously, Cessnock's 45-degree temperatures created obstacles. Among the challenges were short night shoot hours, actors having to wear heavy fur-lined clothing and the need to frame out all 'summer' foliage - especially gum trees.

In addition, while the English shoot took place in wintertime, Read was keen to include a shot of the school location in summertime. Fuel was called upon to make shots filmed in winter appear as though it was summer. This was done with sky replacements, adding leaves to trees and replacing snow with grass. Among these was an interior shot of the exterior through a window.

Fuel worked on 89 shots in total including the opening title sequence, which sees a camera move along a darkened surface before rising to show raindrops falling on this surface, which is revealed to be a train track.

"Suddenly a train rushes over the track and we cut out to a wide shot and there's the boy hanging out of the train," said Read. "I thought we could use a motion control rig and then put in the CG later but then practicality and cost came into it and I faced with the reality that this shot was too much of an indulgence; we didn't have the budget and so I turned to David and said 'Help! This is the shot I want to do'.

Armed with Read's storyboards and a second unit, Morley directed the title sequence himself, opting to use a live train to give it authenticity.

"We had to carefully choreograph the timing of both the camera tracking back and the train barrelling down the track straight for us with quite a few dry runs separately with both train and crew until we were confident we had the positions the camera needed to be in relation to the train," explained Morley.  "We still had several safety people standing by to quickly rip crew out of the way of the impending train if they had not reached the agreed ‘point of no return'  position. In the end we got exactly what we wanted."

Once the shot had been captured, Fuel scanned the image at 4K, smoothed the camera move and retimed the sequence. In addition to the titles CG sparks were added to the undercarriage as the train passed by.

[Like Minds Masterpost]

[thepedanticbohemian]

Write what you know

When the college I was attending for journalism refused to give me life credit for 10-years-worth of clippings in my portfolio from actually working as a journalist at newspapers, magazines, and also as a foreign correspondent for Reuters Wire Services, I was pissed. I mean Hulk Big Mad.

I walked straight from the chair's office to admissions. I switched my major to Criminal Justice and crafted my own minor in pathophysiology and psychology because forensics wasn't a thing yet. I'd always dreamed of serving in the FBI...or writing about it. I couldn't pass the FBI PT--like how my Navy career ended by failing PT three times. I did finish an internship as a death investigator for a Coroner's Office in Illinois (the most interesting job I've ever done).

Since I write crime fiction suspense thrillers it ended well. I write heavily forensic and medical prose. My published novel, OVER THE RIVER, THROUGH THE WOODS, deals with an incurable brain disease and the repercussions on the married couple going through it. THE OUDERKIRK HOUSE is about both a 3-decade-long search for a child serial killer and a multiple murder cold case from 1968. The manuscript relies heavily on forensics, ballistics, and the whole spectrum of evidence.

If you feel ill-equipped, READ. Lots. As Stephen King is fond of saying, you'll never be a writer if you aren't a reader.

Research is my favorite part of my writing. The more I research, the deeper and more meaningful my characters and scenes.

[forensicfield]

Forensic Science E-Magazine (Aug-Sept 2023)

We proudly present the Aug-Sept issue (Vol 17) of your favorite magazine, Forensic Science E-Magazine. As usual, the magazine's current issue has helpful content related to forensic science. --------- #forensicsciencemagazine #forensicfield #crimescene

Continue reading Untitled

[betterthanburrow]

Stranger Things - Instagram AU

(Bengals Quarterback! Joe Burrow x Actress! OC)

liked by joeyb_9 and 156,640 more users

Bengals: The 2022 schedule is here...

All that's left is to #RuleTheJungle

view all 22,812 comments

__3teen: GOING UPPPP 🚀

yourinstagram: i’m excited for football season!

camjuice5: 😤 let’s ride

liked by joeyb_9 , and 475,041 more users

yourinstagram: my date for the night🥂🖤

view all 191,005 comments

yourbff: i’m so excited for the Premiere Red Carpet!

username1: i really thought we would’ve seen Y/N and Joe on the red carpet together 🙁

↳ username2: Joe is busy with football camp… and i would rather them make their red carpet debut as a couple with a show or movie that Y/N is the main character in instead of just a side character.

joeyb_9: i hope y’all have fun… but don’t have too much fun without me!

↳ yourinstagram: trust me.. we’ll have a lot of fun!

liked by joeyb_9 and 119,513 more users

Y/N_Source: Y/FN Y/LN for the Stranger Things Season 4 Premiere Red Carpet.

view all 55,779 comments

username1: THE BEST DRESSED OF THE NIGHT!

username2: CAN YOU FIGHT @.JOEYB_9

↳ username3: i mean… he’s a football quarterback and a fan of UFC so i think he can fight.

liked by yourinstagram, and 138,520 more users

Bengals: Ohhh, how we’ve missed this 🥰

view all 55,909 comments

joey_b: i missed being on the football field.

username1: WHO DEY NATION!

CincyProblems: the 2022 football season is going to be a great season for the Bengals!

username2: only a few more months until we’ll be seeing this fine man on our tv screens every week!

yourinstagram: it’s good to know that i can count on the Bengals’ Instagram Team to give me Joey content.

liked by joeyb_9 and 333,719 more users

Wonderland: “I think she has a lot going on under the surface and I think we are similar in that people tend to easily make up their minds about us, who we are and stick to that.”

Upon the highly-anticipated release of season 4, Stranger Things newcomer @.yourinstagram talks about her multi-layered character and her affinity for forensics & psychology. As well as opening up about her relationship with NFL Bengals Quarterback Joe Burrow and how to manage a long distance relationship with their business schedules as football season will be starting in a few months in our Summer 2022 issue. Pre-order the issue now at wonderlandshop.com 🤍

view all 77,595 comments

sadiesink_: my favorite blonde 💗

username1: this is my favorite magazine photoshoot that Y/N has done!

Y/LNandBurrow: “When asked about her relationship with Joe Burrow; The actress didn’t hesitate with answer with glee. While long distance has always been a huge factor in their relationships due their business schedule, the football quarterback and actress never let the long distance have an effect on their relationship. As their 4 year anniversary is approaching soon, the couple are stronger than ever and there is hope for wedding bells in their future!”

↳ username2: WEDDING BELLS IN THE FUTURE?!!!

↳ username3: they’re so cute, i love their relationship… my heart will break into pieces if they ever break up.

yourinstagram: thank you for having me be apart of the Summer 2022 Wonderland Magazine Issue ❣️

liked by joeyb_9, and 495,009 more users

yourinstagram: ⚜️

view all 151,950 comments

maya_hawke: GORGEOUS GIRL!

joeyb_9: is that a little bit of too much blush on the cheeks?!

↳ yourinstagram: there’s no such thing as “a little bit of too much blush” on the cheeks.

nattyiceofficial: 😍💍

liked by yourinstagram and 2,532,737 more users

strangerthingsTV: the beginning of the end is near. Volume 1 is Now Streaming on Netflix. Volume 2 will be released on Netflix on July 1st.

view all 10,318 comments

yourinstagram: i’m so excited for Stranger Things fans to watch the new season. Thank You for allowing me to join the show and be apart of an amazing cast 🤍

gatenm123: LET’S GO! EVERYONE WATCH NOW!

milliebobbybrown: i hope everyone enjoys watching the new season of the show!

noahschapp: FINALLY S4 IS OUT!

joeyb_9: guess it’s time to finally watch this show that has been on my “Netflix recommendations” for years.

↳ yourinstagram: we can binge watch the seasons together whenever i get back into Cinncinnati soon!

liked by 189,091 users

yourstrangersources: NFL Bengals’ Quarterback Joe Burrow’s Instagram Stories with Y/FN Y/LN who plays Chrissy Cunningham in Stranger Things S4 Volume 1.

view all 20,557 comments

username1: Joe Burrow starting to binge-watch Stranger Things just because his girlfriend had been casted into the new season… only for his girlfriend’s character to die in the fourth season’s first episode 😭

username2: Joe is watching a TV show that isn’t Spongebob Squarepants or Game Of Thrones?!

liked by joeyb_9 and 620,409 more users

yourinstagram: ST S4 Behind The Scenes 🍀

view all 285,310 comments

strangerthingsTV: our favorite cheerleader forever ❤️

↳ joeyb_9: if she is your favorite cheerleader… then why did she DIE in the FIRST EPISODE OF THE NEW SEASON?!

↳ josephquinn: joe burrow is asking the REAL IMPORTANT questions that we need answer too!

joeyb_9: CHRISSY WAKE UP!

↳ yourinstagram: please don’t start it…

Author’s Note:

i’m not a Stranger Things fan, but one night i got randomly inspired to write this Instagram AU and i decided to publish it on the 1 year anniversary of ST Season 4 Volume 1 release.

if you have a request for an Instagram AU, please send the IG AU request through my Inbox and i’ll try to get it published as fast as i can!

thank you all for the love and support! 🤍

[reorientingtothexdaylight]

there's a french made for tv film that has haunted me for the past 15 years. it was the first on the public channel France3 to have men kissing (and more) on prime time. it was a few years after brokeback mountain and the way they talked about the film then was like. it's the french bbm (it's not). it haunts me because the film is intense, the music draws you in and never lets you go. the actors are really good (apart maybe from that one rolling in the grass kissing scene). it's about a cop who lost his parents young tragically, who got taken in by the forensic pathologist, who became like a mother to him. and to stay close to her, he became a cop. he was born into violence and remained in such a violent environment throughout his life, denying himself anything that did not fit a traditional life. he had so much violence, for everyone, including himself. until the day his second mother, with whom he works, has an accident and instead of her, a gorgeous doctor waltz into his life, while he's investigating a gruesome homophobic murder. it wasn't until the year of lord 2023 when i uploaded the film to youtube that someone commented on it and helped me understand the insane ending (reference to a japanese concept in art)(why did a made for tv film make such a reference? who knows). and now. through this video on youtube, someone has made an edit of them. and it has garnered 75k views in 10 days. and this

is the most recent comment

and this is insane that a french made for tv movie that was never meant to be seen other than then, in 2007 when it aired for the first (and i believe only time). there are like two blog posts from 2007 when it first aired and a couple of tv magazines who wrote reviews. so this is insane. that a 2007 made for tv french film exists still and is accessible enough to be called "old men yaoi".

the title is autopsy and you can find it in full on youtube or as a 29min edit.

[wildflowerteas]

 🔪 🌿 🏜️ 🎨

🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

previously, my answers were 'bug activity and decay postmortem' and other such things... however, more recently I've found myself researching who was on the cover of LIFE magazine a certain month of a certain year for time period authenticity and things like "L.A. blizzard of 1962" which I think are weirder and more obsessive than all the forensics stuff ( which is par for a murder mystery )

🌿 ⇢ give some advice on writer's block and low creativity

i've said this before and i'll SAY IT AGAIN: surround yourself with the work of other creatives and you'll flourish. join a book club, or a discord server, or marinate on Pinterest for a while---watch movies, read books, listen to music, etc. etc. When I'm hit with writer's block I don't force myself to sit in front of my laptop before something just gets spat out of my brain. that's, like, a surefire way to create something you'll hate. sometimes you just need a little nudge and that nudge can be going back to the canon material for inspiration ( which I'm always doing for BSD ), or watching movies you love, or listening to music for lyrics that match the vibe you're going for. tldr there's no foolproof way and my advice certainly doesn't work for everyone but it's how i jumpstart my brain

🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

whenever someone gets a movie reference or BSD canon material reference I've made i SQUEAL. In the last chapter of Part II. Tachihara's bandage got pointed out as a reference to Gittes in Chinatown ( 1974 ), which is one of my all-time favorite films, and it was just euphoric. Also, people noticing my references to the real-life author's works or lives ( Fitz and Hearst ) and other such connections.

🎨 ⇢ link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it

i could never say I have a favorite piece of fanart because it's always changing ( I have severe recency bias ) but this one, by era_pippi is definitely up there...

the composition is on point, the flowers looking half-dead and the soft, ghostly lighting, the lighters, chuuya staring at the viewer ( who isn't holding a light ), the dark red walls and gilded picture frames. i won't lie, this one was definitely sat on the back-burner while I imagined the settings for tsp

[procelibacyactivism]

Much postwar commentary on child sexual abuse downplayed the harm that resulted. A 1957 review of child sexual assault in the magazine Moral Welfare by forensic psychiatrist T C N Gibbens, for example, noted that ‘in many cases there was de facto consent to the offence; some [children] did not realise the nature of the act, and others were indifferent.’ He proposed that many such crimes were better treated as ‘indecent conduct’, rather than ‘indecent assault’.  This would provide a less punitive way to deal with ‘the offender whose only impulse is to lift the skirts of a little girl and peep…’.  This tendency to trivialise sexual assaults on children was supported by the habit of police to press charges for lesser offences such as common assault or indecent assault rather than rape. This was intended to increase the chance of conviction, and allow for cases to be tried by magistrates rather than in a higher court. But it also had the effect of downplaying the gravity of the assaults on children. Though some frontline welfare workers did listen to children and act on their allegations, psychological theories of child sexual abuse were sceptical. A 1963 study, Child Victims of Sex Offences, asserted children’s tendency to lie about abuse: ‘the most elaborate and circumstantial accusations are sometimes made without any basis in fact.’  This same study also argued that ‘the behaviour of parents is the main source of difficulty’ – in particular, the mother’s feelings of jealousy and envy towards her daughter. The victims of sex offences, the authors concluded, ‘frequently select themselves through certain psychological characteristics.’ Blame was thus deflected from abusers. Across the twentieth century, most cases of child sexual abuse did not come to the attention of authorities. When they did, the response from welfare workers was often inadequate. By removing children from contact with trusted adults, ‘rescue’ may have made children less able to disclose, or vulnerable to further abuse in institutional care. There was little joined up thinking and few agreed procedures across the different branches of social work, the police and the medical profession. Concerns over confidentiality continued to prevent effective multi-agency working. It was widely believed that child sexual abuse was due to psychological defects in men, and exacerbated by poor parenting. The question of ‘subnormality’ was also a persistent concern in discussions of child sexual abuse across the period; as late as 1986, the BMJ was still blaming victims for being ‘slow on the uptake’. Evidence from 1918-1990 suggests that child sexual abuse was also persistently viewed as correlated with unemployment and poverty – and thus to be a problem found amongst the socially marginalised.

[…]

[…] the exact extent of the problem of CSA is difficult to approximate given the lack of consensus on the definition used in research inquiries, as well as the differences in the data collection systems across areas [14]. For example, in their review of the current rates of CSA across 55 studies from 24 countries, Barth and colleagues [15] found much heterogeneity in studies they reviewed and concluded that rates of CSA for females ranged from 8 to 31% and from 3 to 17% for males. Though, despite these methodological challenges, recent systematic reviews and meta-analyses that included studies conducted worldwide across hundreds of different age-cohort samples have consistently shown an alarming rate of CSA, with averages of 18-20% for females and of 8-10% for males [16], with the lowest rates for both girls (11.3%) and boys (4.1%) found in Asia, and highest rates found for girls in Australia (21.5%) and for boys in Africa (19.3%) [17]. Research findings do, however, clearly demonstrate a major lack of congruence between the low number of official reports of CSA to authorities, and the high rates of CSA that youth and adults self-report retrospectively. Indeed, the recent comprehensive meta-analysis conducted by Stoltenborgh and colleagues [17] that combined estimations of CSA in 217 studies published between 1980 and 2008, showed the rates of CSA to be more than 30 times greater in studies relying on self-reports (127 by 1000) than in official-report inquiries, such as those based on data from child protection services and the police (4/1000). In other words, while 1 out of 8 people report having experienced CSA, official incidence estimates center around only 1 per 250 children. […] In fact, the majority of studies highlight the fact that many victims continue to be unrecognized [3]. A review of CSA studies by Finkelhor [2] found that across all studies, only about half of victims had disclosed the abuse to anyone. This problem is often referred to as the phenomenon of the “tip of the iceberg” [18], where only a fraction of CSA situations are visible and a much higher proportion remain undetected. Disclosure is a delicate and sensitive process that is influenced by several factors, including implicit or explicit pressure for secrecy, feelings of responsibility or blame, feelings of shame or embarrassment, or fear of negative consequences [2,19,20].

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Picks and Shovels Chapter One (Part 4)

Picks and Shovels is a new, standalone technothriller starring Marty Hench, my two-fisted, hard-fighting, tech-scam-busting forensic accountant. You can pre-order it on my latest Kickstarter, which features a brilliant audiobook read by Wil Wheaton.

This month, I'm serializing the first chapter of my next novel, Picks and Shovels, a standalone Martin Hench novel that drops on Feb 17:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865908/picksandshovels

The book is up for presale on a Kickstarter that features the whole series as print books (with the option of personalized inscriptions), DRM-free ebooks, and a DRM-free audiobook read by Wil Wheaton:

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/doctorow/picks-and-shovels-marty-hench-at-the-dawn-of-enshittification

It's a story of how the first seeds of enshittification were planted in Silicon Valley, just as the first PCs were being born.

Here's part one:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/01/09/the-reverend-sirs/#fidelity-computing

Part two:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/01/10/smoke-filled-room-where-it-happens/#computing-freedom

Part three:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/01/11/socialism-for-the-rich/#a-lighter-shade-of-mauve

And now, onto part four!

The San Antonio girl—the daughter of a local real-estate broker—had no idea what floppy disks the president was talking about, so he showed her the catalog and she immediately called the rep in Colma. The receptionist was on the ball and passed the call on to Shlomo, who immediately grasped the catalog’s significance and approved an expensive Federal Express courier.

“Our general counsel advised us to seek an injunction and file a suit,” Bishop Clarke said.

“It would have been better to talk, of course,” the rabbi said. “Nobody wanted to drag those three little girls into court. They’re like family, even though they left.”

Up until then, they’d all been telling the same story, but something about what Rabbi Finkel said stopped its momentum. I’d been practicing my listening, trying to be like Lucille, listening with my eyes and my ears. The rabbi’s statement jolted the other two. Now we’re coming to the crux, I thought. This is the part where I come in.

“They were good at their jobs,” Bishop Clarke said, almost wistful.

“They surprised us,” Father Marek said.

“Perhaps we could find an accommodation,” the rabbi said. The three men looked at each other. How long had they been in business together, in each other’s pockets, maybe at each other’s throats? The story of interfaith harmony was such a juicy one, the stuff of magazine cover stories. Was it true, though?

“They just need convincing,” Bishop Clarke said. His smile flickered on and off. He must have had dental work. The standard-issue teeth just didn’t come that way: shining, white, perfect symmetry. On, off. Maybe he practiced it in front of a mirror.

Discovery is the part of a lawsuit where the parties can demand relevant documents from one another: memos, contracts, correspondence.

Tortious interference is the legal offense of stepping between two contracting parties in a way that induces one of them to violate their contractual obligations. Suing for tortious interference is the commercial version of a jilted wife confronting her erstwhile husband’s lover, as though his infidelity was her fault.

Fidelity’s lawyers—an outside firm with a reputation for aggression and a roster of blue-chip clients and high-profile cases, including IBM’s ongoing troubles with the Department of Justice over its alleged antitrust violations—had drawn up a complaint asserting that CF had induced Fidelity’s suppliers to violate their confidentiality and exclusivity agreements, while simultaneously inducing the company’s best customers to forgo their contractual obligations (and semireligious duty) to buy their supplies from Fidelity and its sales agents in their congregations.

These sweeping allegations gave Fidelity’s lawyers sweeping discovery powers: all documents and accounts related to CF’s manufacturing, promotion, and sales, right down to the printers who supplied their catalogs.

CF wasn’t powerless in the face of this onslaught. Their lawyers—a much cheaper and hungrier firm of lawyers, without the pedigree or track record of their opposing counsel—had secured the right to redact irrelevant, sensitive material from the documents they turned over, and, more crucially, they had convinced the judge to let them do something novel.

The bishop hoisted a banker’s box onto the table and set it down with a thud. He lifted the lid like a conjurer’s trick and brought out two thick binders of paperwork, bristling with dividers. “This is the hardcopy,” he said. “It’s almost nothing. Photocopies of handwritten memos, mostly.”

He reached back in and produced a mauve box of floppy disks, the five – and – a – quarter – inch kind that already seemed slightly quaint, compared to the small, rigid three – and – a – half – inch floppies that all the new computers were using. He produced a second box. A third. A fourth. A fifth. The pile grew.

“Ten boxes of floppy disks,” the bishop said. “No one had ever asked such a thing of our judge, but he said that two computer companies should be able to accept electronic submissions from one another. He said it was obvious that this was the future of discovery, and that we were the perfect litigants to start with, since our dispute was about their piracy of our formats and disks, so of course we’d have compatible systems.

“Somewhere in here is the evidence that they are going to fail in court, the evidence that will force them to come back to the table and negotiate, to talk, the way they should have in the first place. They’ve found some good ways of doing things, and we’re interested in that. We want to work with them, not ruin them. We could arrange a sale of their little company to Fidelity, on preferable terms, but with something in there to recognize their clever little inventions and innovations. They’d get something, rather than nothing.” The bishop spread his hands, patted the air. It’s only reasonable, his hands said.

“Better they get the money than the lawyers,” the rabbi said.

“Something is always better than nothing,” Father Marek said. “Even an idiot should be able to see that.” The other two shot him looks. He scowled at them.

“We need someone who can make sense of all this.” The bishop pointed at his precarious tower of floppy disks. “They thought that they’d overwhelm us with electronic records. That our lawyers were so conservative that they wouldn’t be able to sort through them. It’s true, they’re not set up for this. No one is, but someone could be. We think that for the right kind of person, someone who understands accounting and computers, these records will be easier to handle.”

There it was. They looked at me, three worried sets of eyes. This wasn’t how they normally operated. They were taking a risk. I wondered whose idea this was. Not Father Marek: he wanted vengeance. He’d be happy to smash CF, make an example of them. Rabbi Finkel? Perhaps. I could see that he was a thinker, someone who looked around corners. The bishop? He’d done most of the talking. But I got the impression he always did most of the talking: a Mormon bishop, after all, didn’t wear a dog collar or a beard and yarmulke. Mormon bishops are laypeople, after all. They look secular.

Check out my Kickstarter to pre-order copies of my next novel, Picks and Shovels!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/01/13/wanting-it-badly/#discovering-e-discovery