#press conference: the connect in hong kong

[heckyeahhyungwon]

hyungwonwaa | do not edit

[accio-victuuri]

from this article written about Hidden Blade’s Beijing press conference.

Director Reveals Reversal and Suspense is the Biggest Point of View

On January 17th, the spy war movie "Wu Ming", written and directed by Cheng Er, starring Tony Leung and Wang Yibo, held its premiere in Beijing. Cheng Er, Wang Yibo and others attended the scene, while Tony Leung, Zhou Xun, Jiang Shuying and others interacted with the audience through remote connections.

The film tells the story of the outbreak of the Total War of Resistance, the Communist Party of China led by the Chinese Communist Special Branch in Shanghai — circling between Chongqing, Wang and Japanese spy agencies. through the intricate intelligence system behind the enemy, to turn the enemy, to obtain information, to kill traitors, to establish a broader united front, until the eve of victory in the war.

The word 'Wu Ming' is inspired by the Monument to the Unknown Heroes in Xishan, Beijing." The producer Bona Films CEO Yu Dong explained, "From 1937 to 1945, there were a group of heroes who were born and died on the hidden front. although many of them did not even leave their names after their sacrifices, their heroic deeds are worthy of being written and remembered. This film hopes to show the struggle of the unknown, and take the audience to see a world that has never been seen before."

Tony Leung revealed , this is the second time I have appeared in Mandarin with the original sound. For this reason, he specially learned Mandarin from his teacher. "At first I practiced with my teacher in Hong Kong. After arriving in Shanghai, the director changed all the scripts and then learned again. although my Mandarin is not very good, but speaking from my own mouth, the feeling is still different, and it is also very important for the shaping of characters."

Zhou Xun said that she has known director Cheng Er for a long time, and she has always liked his works, especially his lighting and narrative methods. It was a pleasure working with the director.

Wang Yibo revealed that he not only needs to speak Mandarin in his film, but also challenges other languages ​​according to the plot. "I have lived abroad and learned other languages, so learning a language is more like memorizing lyrics for me, and there will be a rhythm in it." Just like the suspenseful atmosphere in the film, during the entire press conference, the creators mentioned The details of the film are always "off the hook". Subsequently, each creator used a keyword to describe the film.

Wang Yibo chose "thrilling". He said that his first leading role in a movie still feels like a dream, and the fighting scenes between himself and Tony Leung are very "thrilling", including literary dramas as well.

Dapeng used "reversal charm" to describe the film, "If you don't watch the movie, even our actors don't know who is good and who is bad. It really didn't happen until the last second."

Cheng Er revealed, Reversal and suspense are one of the biggest highlights of this film. "Many details are very particular, including the tie worn by the actor, which is consistent with the identity and personality of the character, and hides the mystery."

In the "Wu Ming” trailer Finally, the words "super commercial film" were printed on the subtitles. Yu Dong revealed that the cost of the film was as high as 300 million yuan. Cheng Er's last movie was "The History of Romantic Disappearance" 7 years ago. Although the reputation was good, the box office was very mediocre. This time, Yu Dong is very confident, "Director Cheng Er has added commercial elements while maintaining his personal style this time. I believe the box office of this film on the first day of its release will exceed the sum of all his previous films. "

Wu Ming is scheduled to be released nationwide on January 22, the first day of the Lunar New Year.

[buckandduke]

turn around

back home from Europe (finally!) get ready for apple pressing party and welcome home party for my daughter who just arrived back from Virginia. After the pressing and the barbecue dinner party tonight I head back out of town to Hong Kong for the week. My jet lag will have jet lag. Only one night here and now I need to get up and get started with chore list which lost a day because of missed connecting flight.

I don’t like solo traveling. Not really looking forward to the conference I helped with. I barely get to participate.

[xtruss]

Gustav Klimt Portrait Found After Vanishing Nearly 100 Years Ago

It is One of the Last Works the Artist Painted Before his Death in 1918.

— By Jon Haworth | Published: January 26, 2024

Gustav Klimt's Portrait of Fräulein Lieser. im Kinsky Auction House

LONDON — One of the last paintings by the renowned Austrian artist Gustav Klimt has miraculously been found after vanishing nearly 100 years ago.

The painting, titled Portrait of Fräulein Lieser, was found in Vienna after last being seen by the public in 1925. Until now, the only known photograph of the painting had been held in the archives of the Austrian National Library. The picture was likely taken in 1925 in connection with the Klimt exhibition by Otto Kallir-Nirenstein in the Neue Galerie, Vienna.

Since then, its location had been a mystery.

"The rediscovery of this portrait, one of the most beautiful of Klimt's last creative period, is a sensation," said the im Kinsky auction house in a statement announcing the discovery. "As a key figure of Viennese Art Nouveau, Gustav Klimt epitomizes fin de siècle Austrian Modernism more than any other artist. His work, particularly his portraits of successful women from the upper middle class at the turn of the century, enjoy the highest recognition worldwide."

The work of art will go up for auction at the im Kinsky auction house in Vienna on April 24 and is expected to fetch millions on the market.

A cameraman takes footage of the painting Bildnis Fraeulein Lieser (Portrait of Miss Lieser) by Austrian artist Gustav Klimt (1862-1918) during a press conference of the Kinsky Art Auction House in Vienna, on Jan. 25, 2024. Roland Schlager/APA/AFP via Getty Images

"Klimt's paintings rank in the top echelons of the international art market. His portraits of women are seldom offered at auctions. A painting of such rarity, artistic significance, and value has not been available on the art market in Central Europe for decades," im Kinsky auction house said. "This also applies to Austria, where no work of art of even approximate importance has been available."

The painting will now travel worldwide on short exhibitions until it is auctioned and is set to be presented at various locations internationally, including stops in Switzerland, Germany, Great Britain and Hong Kong.

The model for the painting is labeled as Fräulein Lieser, also known as Margarethe Constance Lieser (1899-1965), daughter of the Austrian industrial magnate Adolf Lieser. But new research by the im Kinsky auction house into the history and provenance of the masterpiece has opened up the possibility that Klimt's model could have been another member of the Lieser family -- either Helene Lieser (1898-1962), the first-born of Henriette Amalie Lieser-Landau and Justus Lieser, or their younger daughter, Annie Lieser (1901-1972), according to officials.

"In April and May 1917, the sitter visited Klimt's studio in Hietzing nine times to pose for him," im Kinsky said. "Klimt probably began the painting in May 1917. The painter chose a three-quarter portrait for his depiction and shows the young woman in a strictly frontal pose, close to the foreground, against a red, undefined background. A cape richly decorated with flowers is draped around her shoulders."

The portrait is thought to be one of Klimt's last paintings and was done shortly before he died of a stroke on Feb. 6, 1918. The painting was left, with several small portions of it unfinished, in his studio and it is thought that the painting was given to the family who had commissioned it after his death.

The painting, however, would soon vanish and the exact fate of the painting after 1925 is unclear.

"What is known is that it was acquired by a legal predecessor of the consignor in the 1960s and went to the current owner through three successive inheritances," im Kinsky auction house said.

[jooheonupdates]

© mic killer // do not edit

[fymonsta-x]

from_monday ϟ do not edit or crop logo.

[courage-a-word-of-justice]

Maou-jou 9 - 12 (FINAL) | Idolish7 s2 10 - 15 (FINAL) | SLS 2

I’ve been holding off new seasonals because of other things, but after I post this I’ll have enough time to get around to them. That’s why I can’t guarantee winter 2021 seasonal tags on this post...maybe the next one will have them...

Maou-jou 9

…it seems shopping channels even are the same in the demon world.

Now even the demons have quests! (The frame is different to the princess’s, though.)

Oh! The quest failed.

Neo Alraune: in flower language, “the 2nd coming of happiness”. The worry from a little while ago was, “I’m worried about my brother.” The worry from recently: “I didn’t think about being happy that the princess didn’t kill my brother.”

The penguin demons are pretty cute!

Don’t you know how parents forbid children from sleeping until they finish all their homework? Must be something like that.

Yoku ganbarimashita! – Syalis worked hard!

LOL, mental age: 3. Poseidon likes cute things…I can’t read a lot of this…the hardsubs cover the JPN text.

They…both succeeded! (…LOL?)

Maou-jou 10

Owarinocity = Endopolis. It’s a good equivalent, if I do say so myself.

…oh yeah. What happened to Alraune? Update: There she is!

Also, that blonde guy in the infomercials doesn’t look too bad…*makes chef’s kiss gesture with one hand* Nice.

I wonder, was Twilight once human…?

LOL, there’s a goat symbol on the cleric’s pyjamas. Also “first time”, LOL.

I think they were playing shiritori at one point.

Hanamaru saikou yoku dekimashita!

Maou-jou 11

…How does one “sleep cheerfully”, anyway?

I think I saw Twilight drop something…some kind of paper…

Aw, Twilight blushing is kinda cute!

LOL, 70s shoujo style. Also, “It cannot be!”

Whoa, she cancelled it?!

I read up on this series on TV Tropes…and apparently the Demon King captured the Princess in her sleep.

Kagemusha? Like a ninja or something?

Apparently the Demon Cleric is much older than he looks.

Ooh! Hypnos is back!

A-whatsit really is abysmal levels of stupid!!! (LOL)

Maou-jou 12 (FINAL)

Who’s that one tiny guy occupying one of the Ten Kings’ seats?

*watching after Christmas, about a week after the anime finished* This is not seasonally appropriate!

…*thinks for a second, then spits* That’s the 2nd Nemu in the fall 2020 season!!!

Ooh, the head paladin doesn’t look that bad, either.

“…is it good to be…”

“…has seized the princess!”

“…that demon king is rather cute.” – See? Someone agrees with me.

Anyways, that was a fun series. See you soon!

Idolish7 s2 10

…Back at it after so long…(I can’t help it though – Crunchyroll, per month, is about double the local Funimation sublicensor’s fees, and for much less content that’s worth my money to boot!)

I’ve always thought Momo was like Sasara (HypMic), so seeing him anguished hurts me in the kokoro too…

I know Banri was involved with Re:vale somehow…this must be it.

…Male idols are also popular among men? Is this why there are 8 (!!!) idol anime in winter 2021 alone…? (Also, that’s why HypMic became popular? Multidemographic appeal crossed over with obvious merchandising opportunities?)

It’s kind of scary how Momo stepped the formality towards Yuki like that (to -san).

I guess in his heart Momo still reveres Yuki, some way or another.

The rakugo curtain really sold the moment that they (current Re:vale) were acting like an old married couple.

Yay! Silver Sky is such a cool song! Of course I recognised the intro when it came on.

…I see. The elder Kujo is entrusting his dream to Tenn, so that’s why he banned Aya from seeing Tamaki. However, it’s hard to know what to feel when Aya speaks in the vaguest terms possible.

I think that was a special ending for only this episode. I don’t know what its name is, but I guess I might recognise it on Spotify one day.

Idolish7 s2 11

LOL, Nagi’s reaction.

Considering the ‘rona is getting worse outside our very windows as we speak (type?), I think it’s correct to be concerned about your future right now.

Looking at these narrow streets reminds me of going to eat hotpot at the end of my Japan trip…only Japanese streets look like that, I think. Hong Kong’s streets are more crowded than that and America likes their suburbia.

Of course, when you say hajimemashite (nice to meet you), someone’s gotta say it back, hence the reply.

Considering there are people all over the world watching the Idolish7 anime, I would say you are telling the world about I7, Riku.

Oh! Restart Pointer! There was an MV for that one…I think it was around the time Idolish7’s MVs started getting better.

So this is the context around the new outfits! Cool!

There have been way too many puns about “idol” being…y’know, “ai (love) doll” and stuff like that…

I have one Twitter person who I follow (DejiNyucu, part of the creative team for Autumn’s Journey) because I don’t get much I7 content and they keep mentioning this “Haruki” person…and suddenly a “Haruki the Betrayer” showed up in the graffiti…they might be the same person, I think. Not Deji, but Haruki. Update: Sakura Haruki, perhaps…?

Sougo’s such a bad liar…

Sometimes, the best way to deal with things is to be direct…(I’m not very good at that, I naturally talk in a very roundabout sort of way.)

Sougo with long hair like Yuki would be really pretty… (<- has an obvious thing for guys with long hair)

Idolish7 s2 12

Nagi’s stupid accent is generally what he’s best remembered for (for me), so seeing him speak normally, and do a press conference on top of that, is…impressive.

A kabedon on top of all this! Whoa!

Shibuya 109 parody…? (I’ve seen that once or twice – parodying that means people know their stuff about Shibuya.)

I think the “it’s overflowing!” is referring to the hype in the “room”.

…this dejected Momo is worrying…(well, he is worrying and I am worrying about him.)

Oh, I see. The person responsible typed the letter so that they couldn’t be traced back. Kind of like those old movies where the culprit would cut letters out of newspapers to make threat mail, but…with even less traces than that, because cutting letters out leaves evidence.

…wow, it took a while for this ep. to have an intro…

…LOL, I just spotted Kenjiro Tsuda cited as the “fake Zero”, meaning the real one might never show up this season.

There’s something really stupid and infectious about these managers’ enthusiasm for drinking energy drinks. It puts a goofy smile on my face.

Is Musubi Tsumugi’s mother…? Update: Yes, she is.

…Wait, so the Chiba Shizuo guy is actually important?!

Idolish7 s2 13

Whenever someone says “by the way”, it means they’re changing the subject. I hate to state to obvious, but Sougo is clearly deflecting the topic of conversation from being about him.

I wonder if this guy (Haw9) is the actual Zero graffiti vandal…?

Hmph, I didn’t realise Tenn doesn’t refer to Kujo-san as his father, but…like that (“Kujo-san”) instead.

Oh hey! These are shots from Vibrato!

Most dramas can be solved with the power of Good Communication. That includes this one.

I feel like “he has a dark side” describes both Tenn and Kujo-san.

“Everyone, remember to wash your hands and gargle thoroughly.” – This is always a good thing to remember in the time of ‘rona. Reminds me of Jakurai’s line in ARB (<- this game started just after the ‘rona came down).

What did Sougo go to uni for (what specialisation)?

Idolish7 s2 14

I just realised Banri calls Momo -kun. Hmm…

Denki = electricity, LOL.

I feel like Tenn is basically Ramuda, give or take actual pink hair…guys in musical groups with pre-existing angst that they become the “centre” of. The fact Fling Posse have Saito Soma and so do Trigger strengthens the connection.

I would watch the heck out of a musical like that! Make it come true, Idolish7! (Also, today is I7 day! I’m not much of an I7 fan outside the anime, but…that’s cool!)

That shot of them jumping! I remember seeing it on the official site before!

Idolish7 s2 15 (FINAL)

There you go! I was wondering where Banri’s injury was – that was the only bit that didn’t add up for him to be Yuki’s old partner.

Hmm…Momo is 4 years younger than Yuki but 2 years younger than Banri…

This episode has a real concert vibe to it, to the point where I got startled by how loud the yell was at one point. (Even if it is mostly stills.)

LOL, lookit Okazaki!

Apparently, if you’re a hako oshi, you like all the members of a group. Someone with a green light and a pink light likes both members of Re:vale.

LOL, Usagi for Asahi beer.

…I forgot Nagi is 19.

…Ooh, I think that’s the kid from ZOOL. No wonder they needed a season 3!

That’s all. See you next time!

SLS 2

“fine and upstanding person” – That’s…hard to believe, Hayato.

I wonder how many bois Toboso designed for SLS…?

…The episode title is actually “Blank”. Not “Break”.

One of the guys’ shirts says moteki on it. That’s a period in one’s life where one enjoys more romantic attention than usual, literally “popularity season”.

The subs missed an I, so initially I knew Kiriyama’s name as “Kiryama”.

There are meant to be 2 wings, right…?

“He who controls information controls everything, right?” – For once, I’m surprised Hayato is right (and not just in that smug way of his).

“…I’m being treated like a manager.” – But Hayato is a manager! (In a sense.)

The plait guy jumps to nicknames really fast…also, why do I get the feeling Maeshima will lose the key?

I hate to say this Maeshima, but I side with your childhood friend (Kiriyama) here. As much as the anime wants me to back you, I’m watching for everyone else at this point.

That blocky building looks pretty cool. I think Zel (Archi-Anime) would like it.

Sasugai’s setup looks pretty cool, including his chair.

…hmm, Maeshima’s like me in a sense. I learn best by copying others, but memory is my best asset. If I don’t regularly train the fundamentals, I suck at everything. That said, I don’t have an eidetic memory. Also, I didn’t quite figure out Ken = Ken(sei Maeshima) until I watched long enough to connect the dots.

LOL, Derry’s. (<- reminded of a word for “butt” <- derriere)

Well, the guy’s (Souta…?) shirt does say moteki…

Kiriyama kinda looks like Jyuto (HypMic), come to think of it…Right down to his angry streak (although Jyuto has a reputation to keep as a “cool dude”, while Kiriyama is more of a Manza (Boueibu HK) and he’s more angry than he looks).

…This ED is nothing special.

…Hmm? Is that a small Terauchi and Maeshima…?

I think I’m sold for now, but I’m rooting for the other team, not Maeshima’s…not yet, anyways.

[fayewonglibrary]

Faye Wong - Doing Things Her Own Way Since She Was Young (1995)

* SOME REVISIONS TO SPELLING/GRAMMAR/WORDING *

Direct, resolute, stubborn, strong, temperamental -- this is the in-depth analysis by Faye Wong's mother on her superstar daughter.

The last time Faye came to Singapore, when asked about her relationship with Dou Wei at a press conference, she tossed out the phrase "talking nonsense" and left. With Mrs. Wong revealing her daughter's true temperament, perhaps we can have a better understanding of Faye's behavior.

Migrated to Hong Kong at age 16

Mrs. Wong is a working woman. She and Faye's father immigrated to Hong Kong when Faye was 16 years old. Regarding her heavenly queen daughter, who makes her world-wide Chinese fans go crazy, and leaves the media with a headache, Mrs. Wong says, "The moment she has an opinion, she will be 'persistent with no regrets'. She is not the docile-type of daughter who follows the wishes of her parents. Often, you tell her this thing and she'll do that thing." It was against her parents' wishes that Faye became a singer.

Mrs. Wong Speaks of Her Daughter

Concerning her daughter whose words and behavior, despite becoming a superstar celebrity, still remain individualistic, and who is not known to build rapport or socialize, Mrs. Wong says that Beijing-born Faye has retained a Northerner's frank and open ways -- "pays little attention to conventionality, little consideration for what is appropriate, no thought for consequences, completely frank according to moods". However, Mrs. Wong personally feels that in the entertainment circle, it is better to be more careful with one's words and behavior.

She explains that as Faye was more pampered than her brother as a child, she is more rash, less accommodating, and doesn't make connections. Mrs. Wong also reveals, "Her coolness and haughtiness are just a facade. Once you are close to her, you will find that she is the same as all the girls - playful, noisy, crazy. A passionate and lively girl."

Mrs. Wong feels that in handling her career and personal life, her daughter is "more sense than sensibility". She hopes that as she grows older and gains more experience, her daughter would be more sensible in handling matters.

Idolizing Teresa Teng As A Child

Mrs. Wong empathizes with her daughter's difficulties. She says, "When she is facing pressure, we are unable to help in practical ways, yet she has never complained once to us."

Her daughter's love for music touches Mrs. Wong deeply. She says, "Since she was young, she was reluctant to leave whenever she stood beside a piano. When she was in junior high school, she began to idolize Teresa Teng. Later, she gave up her chance to enroll in a university in order to go into singing in Hong Kong. Nobody could dissuade her from her decision."

Presently, having completed her Hong Kong concert, Faye will be going to Taipei for 2 nights of concerts on the 28th. Our local media and fans hope to see her too. But in truth, as Faye herself had frankly admitted, "I'm not very motivated, always thinking of taking a holiday. I'm not an idol, don't worship me." She is so distant from the masses, yet her unique voice is so near.

------------------------------------------------------------------  

SOURCE: CHINESE DAILY // TRANSLATED BY: UNKNOWN - PLEASE CONTACT ME

[treethymes]

yesterday i was sitting with my mom as the latest press conference was on tv and a reporter asked trump what is going to be done about all the ppl losing their health insurance and trump was like blah blah blah i already talked about the bailout plan blah blah. and then my mom said, under her breath, half to herself half to me, “don’t ask for too much.” and it was profoundly sad. it was sad to see this glimpse into her constellation of facts. how small she lives. how small she wants to die. why is she so spiteful? what is she so afraid of? why shouldn’t we ask for healthcare? what happens when someone asks for “too much”? she herself is uninsured, barely scraping by on the generosity of our local physicians. and she knows that if we didn’t live with my aunt and uncle, we’d have nowhere to go. just as having family to turn to is a blessing from god, this pandemic is an accident of life. this is a free country, the greatest on earth. there is no connection between our precarity and our government. there is no sense in wanting better. so be grateful. (my mom also thought what happened in hong kong was nothing but a misguided tantrum by a bunch of kids who didn’t know any better.) it is devastating to sense how deeply this mindset has been ingrained in me. how small i keep myself. how difficult it is to ask for anything. this catholic guilt, this capitalist shame. this compacted life in which the only virtues are fear and self-hatred, servitude and survival. in our society your life only has worth if you can work, an idea premised on the belief that work is inherently valuable and that all activity not recognized as work is worthless at best and a burden at worst. but a lot of work in capitalist society is meaningless work, done only to keep the machinery that extracts the value of our labor from us well-oiled. what is work in such a society? it is only suffering. a person’s life then only has value if they’re willing to suffer, and anyone who isn’t willing to suffer the way i suffer is trying to undermine my worth, trying to threaten my life, and therefore deserves to die. so don’t ask for too much.

[heckyeahhyungwon]

Wonder You  |   do not edit

[mostlysignssomeportents]

#1yrago America's Fiber Future: Susan Crawford on how America's wired future is slipping away

No one in America explains the importance of good network policy than Susan Crawford (previously), a one-woman good sense factory when it comes to Network Neutrality, municipal fiber, and reining in the excesses of the goddamned ISP industry. Her latest book is Fiber: The Coming Tech Revolution―and Why America Might Miss It, a timely and urgent look at how America is sacrificing its digital future, productivity, connectivity, social mobility, entrepreneurial growth, education, and every other public good, thanks to rapacious telcos, scumbag lobbyists, and negligent, cash-hungry politicians. Crawford and her publisher, Yale University Press, were kind enough to give us an excerpt (below) so you can get a sense of why you should be reading this.

Fiber optic, as a category, is both old and new. The cables running under the oceans and among the major cities of the world began to be upgraded to fiber thirty years ago. And once a fiber optic cable is in the ground, it lasts for forty or fifty years; it is essentially future proof, because its information-carrying capacity can be almost infinitely upgraded without digging up the cable, merely by swapping out the electronics that encode and power the pulses of light that travel within its walls. Most people in non-fiber countries (including the United States) can’t even buy what in fibered countries counts as a standard, modern internet connection. About 11 million American households, out of 126 million total, are connected to last-mile fiber, and that service is usually available only at very high prices from a single unregulated provider. Meanwhile, South Korea, Japan, Hong Kong, and Singapore have virtually 100 percent fiber adoption at low prices, and often scores of competitors.

This is a big problem.

Here’s why: Those hair-thin fiber strands, capable of carrying billions of phone calls simultaneously, plus advanced wireless communications that depend on that fiber extending into the last mile, will make possible virtually unlimited, cheap communications capacity wherever you are—which in turn will give rise to new businesses, new transport capabilities, new ways of managing our use of energy, new forms of education and health care, new ways of earning a living, and new forms of human connectedness. For these things to happen, both fiber and advanced wireless technologies need to be widely and competitively available. Without these basic pieces of open infrastructure in place, your country will be missing out on the future being lived and built elsewhere.

Much of the world gets this. China is installing twenty thousand last-mile fiber optic connections every single day. In June 2017, the South China Morning Post reported “China set to build the planet’s largest 5G mobile network for US $180b.” Listen to that: the “planet’s largest.”

Fiber plus advanced wireless capability is as central to the next phase of human existence as electricity was a hundred years ago. Just as countries that quickly ensured cheap access to electricity revolutionized their economies and provided dramatically improved quality of life for their citizens, countries that figure out how to get fiber to everyone will have ever-increasing advantages over those that do it slowly.

Take the 2018 Olympics in South Korea: Korea Telecom was smart to focus on sports—and the Olympics in particular—in demonstrating its prowess. Sports grab humans in real-time emotional ways, and the Olympics mark the global pinnacle of inspiring athletic achievement. KT got the world’s attention in 2018.

But KT’s display of its 5G fireworks is far more significant than any Olympic event could possibly be. Korea is going through a phase change in digital communications that has implications for almost every occupation and source of economic power of which we’re aware today.

In the crowded city of Seoul, for example, I met many twentysomethings who did not distinguish between online life and “real” life; for them, these are simply layers of life as a whole. This generation is so accustomed to cheap, unlimited connectivity everywhere that they have forgotten its existence—just as people in other countries forget the existence of electricity until it is suddenly not there. South Koreans are impatient. For them, going to almost any city in the United States is a little like going off the grid.

In Seoul, I met Yeon Sung Choi, a professional e-sports player who is as famous in his sport as Lionel Messi, the best goal-scorer in the world, is in soccer. Yeon Sung, who now works as a coach for the SK Telecom T1 Starcraft II team (telecommunications companies are major investors in the e-sports industry in Korea), told me he’d lived through the transformation of Korea that took place following the installation of high-capacity networks that permitted any number of people to play games simultaneously. At age twenty, he realized he could beat just about anyone. The essential factor in connectivity, he says, is latency, or response time; any delay makes it very difficult to play. Some players say latency starts to become obvious when there is a gap of 150 milliseconds or even less between pressing a button and a visual response. Fiber connections generally have lower latency than cable or copper wires. “In Korea the response time is really short,” he said, laughing. He sees a bright future for the gaming industry in Korea, but there is much more than gaming. The same technology will revolutionize business, medicine, education, manufacturing, energy use, and real-time translation functions between spoken languages.

Fiber is also revolutionizing cities themselves. Because the city of Seoul years ago installed fiber optic last-mile connections throughout the city and its subway system, it can provide free Wi-Fi, which means the private sector can experiment with Internet of Things (IoT) services that will improve its citizens’ lives. On the same trip that had me clambering around the empty ice arena in Pyeongchang, I visited the city’s IoT testbed office. Taejin Kim, director of the testbed, told me that the city is testing its ability to provide personalized services to elders, to provide data from road surfaces and public transit so that navigation systems function well, and in general to “solve urban problems, wherever they are.” The conference room next to the mayor’s office houses an enormous dashboard that, fed by public data, allows the mayor to see the site of an accident or fire, talk in real time to public officials at the site, visually understand traffic congestion, and manage the city’s budget. Because fiber is everywhere, this enormous amount of data can be shipped whenever and wherever it is needed.

The next wave of applications making use of fiber and advanced wireless services is likely to be in health care, education, or other fundamental areas than has been seen so far in Korea and Japan. I am confident that innovative American businesses will come up with services that use much more significant amounts of bandwidth when there is a critical mass of users with capacity. If and when the United States becomes a last-mile fiber sandbox for this inventiveness, the huge market here will drive those developments. We will also support our commitment to genuine liberal democracy: the rising tide of cheap, ubiquitous, unlimited connectivity needs to reach everyone in order for the country as a whole to thrive.

Fiber: The Coming Tech Revolution—And Why America Might Miss It [Susan Crawford/Yale University Press]

https://boingboing.net/2019/01/08/fiber-vs-america.html

[ceealaina]

He’s Got a Secret

Square: TSB T3-Day in the Life, WinterIron O5-Domesticity Rating: T Warnings: None Pairing: Tony/Bucky Link: AO3 Summary: Based on that post about Steve’s birthday not actually being July 4, and Steve being in too deep to admit the truth. And of course Tony and Bucky put it together. Just fluff and nonsense.

It was a lazy, rainy, November morning, and somehow, miraculously, neither Bucky nor Tony had anything immediately pressing to get to. They were taking full advantage, snuggling up in bed and just enjoying each other's company before facing the day.  

Tony was sprawled on his back, nestled into a mountain of pillows, with Bucky pushed up on his metal elbow, leaning over him to press gentle kisses over his neck and shoulders. Tony hummed, his eyes fluttering shut as he combed his fingers through Bucky’s hair, tangling their legs together.

“This is nice,” he mumbled, inhaling sharply at the faint drag of teeth over his collarbone. “Mmm… This is… this is really nice.” 

He could feel Bucky’s lips curl into a smile over his skin and he grinned in return, rubbing over Bucky’s scalp until the other man was practically purring. Tony opened his eyes again, feeling all warm and melty inside at the loving look that Bucky was giving him. 

“Hey baby,” Bucky purred, tilting his head to kiss the palm of Tony’s hand. Tony shivered a little at that, and Bucky waggled his eyebrows at him before letting his elbow drop again, snuggling into the pillows beside Tony. Tony beamed, rolling onto his side to face him. 

“Hey yourself,” he said, curling his hand over Bucky’s cheek and kissing him properly. 

“Mmm,” Bucky hummed against his lips, pulling back to stroke his fingers up and down Tony’s arm until he was shivering. “I love mornings like this.”

“You and me both,” Tony told him. He yawned widely and abandoned kissing in favour of snuggling into Bucky’s chest, grinning when Bucky wrapped his arms around him and rolled on to his back, taking Tony with him. Tony yawned again, tracing aimless patterns over Bucky’s bare chest, teasing around his nipple just to hear Bucky’s slight hiss. “What are your plans today, Bucky Bear?” 

Bucky grinned at the nickname, pressing a kiss to the top of Tony’s head. "Nothing major,” he admitted. “Promised Steve I’d spar with him this evening, although I’m looking for any excuse to get out of that. Sam’s moving his sister into a new apartment this afternoon, and he roped me into helping.”

He was grumbling and Tony laughed softly, placing a kiss over his heart. “You say that like you didn’t immediately volunteer, you big softie.”

Bucky shrugged. “I like his sister, she makes fun of Sam with me. Plus she makes real good cookies, so sue me.” He grinned, tightening his arms around Tony. “What about you, sweetheart. Anything exciting?” 

“I’ve got a conference call with Hong Kong,” Tony said with a sigh. “But then I’m gonna be in the lab most of the day. The thrusters in my left boot were a little off yesterday, and I’ve been meaning to get to an upgrade on Clint’s arrows for like, three weeks, and Pepper’s been bugging me about a problem with the StarkPhone UI that R&D apparently can’t handle. So that’ll be me.” He leaned up enough to kiss the bottom of Bucky’s chin. “Want to get dinner tonight?” 

“Absolutely,” Bucky declared. “Lorenzo’s? At seven? It’ll give me an excuse to skip my sparring session,” he added cheerfully, making Tony laugh. 

“Seven it is,” he agreed. “Tell Steve he can spar with Natasha instead,”  he added, giggling when Bucky winced a little at the thought. He leaned up, kissing him softly on the lips. 

“Oh, Steve,” Bucky said when he pulled back again, making Tony blink. He shifted up on his arms so he could fix Bucky with an arched brow. 

“Not exactly the name I was hoping to hear, babe.” 

“Shut up,” Bucky drawled, and Tony squawked as he poked him between his ribs, right in a ticklish spot. Bucky grinned as Tony spluttered and collapsed against his chest again. 

“You’re the worst,” Tony told him, biting at his pec in retaliation. Bucky shifted a little at the feeling but folded an arm behind his head, just looking at Tony smugly. 

“That’s not what you said earlier,” Bucky reminded him, grinning wider when Tony just rolled his eyes. “In fact, as I recall, it was something more along the lines of ‘oh god, yes, Bucky, Bucky, I love you so fucking much, Bucky,’” he added in a fair imitation of Tony’s voice.  

Tony just huffed, biting him harder, and Bucky grunted a little, sliding his hand down to palm Tony’s ass. 

“Hey you wanna go again, we can go right ahead,” he offered, feeling Tony squirm as he stroked a finger down the cleft of his ass. “I’m good whenever.”

For just a minute Tony pushed up into his touch, moaning softly against Bucky’s skin. But then he heaved a sigh, rolling to his side to give Bucky a glare. “It’s hasn’t even been an hour, asshole. You know I can’t go again yet.” 

Bucky just laughed, pulling Tony in against his chest again to places kisses in his hair. 

“Fucking super soldiers and their fucking refractory periods,” Tony grumbled into Bucky’s neck before looking up so suddenly he almost smacked the back of his head into Bucky’s chin. “Oh yeah, so why exactly were you bringing Steve into our sex life?” 

“Gross,” Bucky said, wrinkling his nose a little at the thought. “I wasn’t. I was just gonna say, we should start planning for his birthday? Maybe we could brainstorm over dinner. He hates making a big deal outta it, so obviously we have to go completely over the top.”

Tony nodded, humming as metal fingers rubbed at his shoulders. “Yeah, sounds good,” he agreed, and then paused. “Wait, what?” he asked, leaning up to look at Bucky again. “I mean, I guess, but you’re getting a bit of an early start there, aren’t you?” 

Bucky frowned at him. “Well… we’ve got a bit of time, but not if we wanna get a good reservation somewhere or something.” 

Tony snorted. “Are you planning to rent out the Met? I mean, I’m not saying no, the look on his face would be hilarious. But otherwise, I think we can probably make whatever you want to do work with less lead time. We’ve got almost eight months, and I am very, very rich.” 

Bucky stopped rubbing Tony’s shoulder, ignoring his faint noise of protest. “Eight months?” he repeated. “What are you talking about?” 

Tony frowned at him. “It’s November.”

“Yeah.” 

“Steve’s birthday is in July.” 

“Steve’s birthday is when now?” 

“July. July fourth.”

Bucky blinked at him for a minute and then he burst out laughing. Tony sat up on in the bed, watching in concern as Bucky laughed until he was crying, wondering if his boyfriend had finally lost it entirely. Bucky laughed and laughed until he wasn’t even breathing, tears streaming down his cheeks as he clutched at his middle, trying to get control of himself. 

“Oh my god,” he finally managed to choke out, still holding onto his stomach with his eyes closed. “Oh man, I definitely don’t need to spar now,” he added, still snickering under his breath. 

“Okay, that’s good,” Tony told him. “And also, what the hell was that?” 

Bucky opened his eyes, and started laughing again when he saw Tony’s face, although fortunately he got himself mostly under control again after a minute. 

“Steve…” he snickered a little. “Tell me again when you think Steve’s birthday is?” 

“July fourth,” Tony repeated. “Everyone knows that. It’s like he was meant to be Captain America, from the day he was born. He’s every tour guide’s wet dream.” Tony stared as Bucky burst out laughing again, wiping at the tears streaming from his eyes. “Bucky, what?” 

“Steve’s birthday is not July fourth,” Bucky managed to choke out before snorting again, shoving his face into the pillow until he could get himself under control again. 

Tony blinked at him. “I’m sorry. What?” 

“Steve’s birthday isn’t July fourth,” Bucky repeated, this time managing to say it with a more or less straight face. “Not even close. He was born on December 3.”

Tony blinked again, his mind trying to connect the facts he already knew with what Bucky was now telling him. “That… That can’t be right.” 

Bucky grinned at him. “Trust me, doll. I’ve known that punk since we were little kids. Used to join he and his ma to celebrate Steve’s birthday, and it would always snow. It was definitely not July.” 

Tony just shook his head. “But… we’ve thrown him birthday parties! Every year we have a barbeque, and we all watch the fireworks from the roof of the tower, and make jokes about how there are fireworks for him, not America. One year I even paid to get a firework done like his shield, and I thought he was going to jump in the pool. He never said anything!”

Bucky’s eyes were sparkling now, looking like it was his birthday. “Probably because he knew he’d never hear the end of it from all of you. Tony, honey, this is the best. Do you know what we can do with this?”

“What is even happening right now?” Tony breathed softly, still trying to process this new information. There were certain things that were just facts, and one of those things was that Steve Rogers had the most American birthday possible. “I don’t… How?” 

“Probably some propaganda thing they came up with when he was doing those USO tours. ‘Captain America is so patriotic, he was born on the fourth of July. Be patriotic like Cap. Fight for your country.’ That kind of thing.”

Tony snickered a little, finally catching up. “So it somehow made it onto his SSR file, and when SHIELD found him… And it’s Steve, so of course he wouldn’t have said anything.” He started to laugh, and Bucky beamed now that Tony had caught up. “He probably spends the month of June in absolute terror that we’ll figure it out. This is the most Steve Rogers thing that has ever happened.” He shook his head at Bucky. “How did we not figure this out earlier?” 

“We missed Steve’s birthday last year, remember?” Bucky reminded him. “That hell mission? We were gone like three weeks. And then before that, I wasn’t really paying attention to birthdays.” He flapped a hand impatiently. “Doesn’t matter. Tony, how are we gonna tell him?” 

Tony grinned wider. “I’m thinking surprise party?” he asked. “Do you think he’ll faint when he walks in and realizes that we all know?” 

“Yes,” Bucky agreed, nodding definitively. “Absolutely. But please let me tease him a bit first.” A wicked look crossed his face, and Tony couldn’t decide if he was terrified, or turned on. “I want to see his face when he realizes I can ruin everything with one word.” 

“Only if you promise to record it so I can see too.” 

***

Steve had had a pretty much perfect morning. He’d woken in the dark to go for a run. The air was cool, and crisp, and by the time he was headed back to the tower, the sun was up, promising to be one of those gorgeous, unseasonably warm, late fall days. Now he was freshly showered, and enjoying a second cup of coffee while he flipped through a newspaper.

And then Bucky walked in. 

“Hey Stevie,” he drawled, making his way over to the coffee maker, and Steve glanced up at him over the top of his paper. Bucky had a bounce to his step and was humming under his breath; today was obviously a good day, and Steve grinned at him. 

“Hey Buck,” he said, eyeing Bucky a moment longer before turning back to his paper. He didn’t actually have any particular preference for print newpapers, except for the horrified look Tony got whenever he saw him reading one, but really, what other reason did he need? He and Bucky fell into a comfortable silence, interrupted only by the occasional flick of paper as Steve turned to next page and the easy, domestic sounds of Bucky moving around the kitchen, making himself some breakfast. 

“Hey, Steve?” Bucky asked suddenly, jolting Steve out of the daze he’d let himself sink into. He blinked a couple times before looking up to find Bucky frowning out the window, looking more perplexed than upset. 

“Yeah, Buck?”

“Am I…” Bucky trailed off, looking like he was counting in his head. He laughed softly at himself. “This is gonna sounds nuts, but… Am I missing a holiday?” 

Steve arched an eyebrow at him. “You mean Thanksgiving? You were here for Thanksgiving.” 

“No…” Bucky rolled his eyes at him. “I remember Thanksgiving, punk. It was just last week…” He trailed off again, chewing at his lip as he thought. Steve took an encouraging sip of his coffee. “But isn’t there something else? It feels like we used to celebrate something extra special this time of year.” 

Steve inhaled his coffee, choking and spluttering and sending liquid spraying everywhere. Bucky came over and pounded him not-at-all-helpfully on the back as Steve tried to catch his breath. 

“What?” he gasped when he could breathe again, a little grateful that the choked sound of his voice would maybe hide the fact that he couldn’t lie for shit. “I think you’re thinking of Christmas, Buck?” 

“Definitely not Christmas,” Bucky told him, apparently believing Steve. He grinned fondly. “I definitely remember our Christmasses growing up. You and your ma would come over for dinner, and you, me, and Becca would have a snowball fight outside.” He shook his head again. “This was something else. Something… more special. Seemed like you, me and your ma would always celebrate together, although that can’t be quite right, can it?” 

Steve stared intently at his coffee mug. “I don’t know,” he mumbled. 

Bucky didn’t seem phased, shrugging instead. “That’s okay,” he said, apparently misinterpreting Steve’s quietness as feeling maudlin about Bucky’s messed up brain. He patted Steve on the shoulder before collecting the plates he’d made up for himself and Tony. “See ya later,” he said, before hesitating in the doorway. “Don’t worry, Stevie,” he added reassuringly, and if Steve hadn’t been staring at his coffee so that his face didn’t give anything away, he might have noticed the glint in Bucky’s eyes. “I’m sure it’ll come back to me.” 

As soon as the elevator had dinged, Steve collapsed against the table with a faint moan. Somehow, in all the time that Bucky had been back, it hadn’t actually occurred to him that of course his real birthday would be buried somewhere in his psyche. He was glad that Bucky was recovering more and more of his memories, of course he was. Just… Did it have to be this memory in particular? 

***

Upstairs, Bucky rushed into the bedroom where Tony was sprawled across the bed, watching the live feed of the common area kitchen that JARVIS was projecting on the wall. “What’s he doing?” he asked, bouncing on the bed and leaning over to kiss the top of Tony’s head, beaming when Tony pressed into the touch a few seconds longer than necessary. “Anything good?” 

Tony tilted his head as he eyed the stream, lips twitching into a grin. “He’s just been lying there with his face squished into the table,” he said. “I think he might be muttering ‘why me?’ over and over.” He giggled, making grabby hands for the plate of food. “I’d almost feel bad for him, if it wasn’t so hysterical,” he added around a mouthful of bacon. 

“Don’t,” Bucky told him cheerfully. “Steve deserves this. One time for his birthday, he decided he absolutely had to try gin for the first time. Long story short, we nearly ended up in prison because of that little punk. He deserves this.”

Tony blinked at him. “Okay, no. You can’t ‘long story short’ that. How even?” 

Bucky just shook his head. “Trust me, babe. You do not want to know.”

“If you say so,” he said with a shrug, stealing a slice of bacon from Bucky’s plate this time. 

“Hey!” Bucky protested, trying to grab it back and missing when Tony shoved the entire slice in his mouth at once, stuffing his cheeks like a chipmunk. “Whatcha stealin’ my bacon for? You’ve got a whole plate of your own.” 

“I know,” Tony answered, voice muffled as he crunched. He carefully slid his own plate to his far side, in case Bucky felt the need for retaliation. “But I’m gonna eat all mine, and yours might be gone by then, so I figured I’d eat yours first!” He smiled cheekily at Bucky, like that was actual logic, and Bucky had no choice but to tackle him to the mattress, pinning him down so he could ruck his shirt up and blow a raspberry above his belly button. “Oh my god,” Tony shrieked, giggling at the sensation. “What the fuck’s the matter with you? Are you six?” 

“That’s what you get for stealing my bacon,” Bucky retorted, letting Tony up because he was actually hungry. 

“Yeah, I’d like to steal your bacon,” Tony muttered, in a voice that implied it was supposed to be an innuendo, but Bucky just snorted into his scrambled eggs. 

“You’re ridiculous,” he informed him. 

“Yeah,” Tony admitted cheerfully, digging in. “But I’m your ridiculous.” 

It didn’t make any goddamn sense at all, but Bucky couldn’t help beaming at him anyway, nudging up close against him until their shoulders were brushing. “Yeah, baby. You are.” 

***

A few days later, Tony stepped off the elevator into the penthouse to find Bucky sprawled across the couch, watching a random action movie on the television. Tony beamed at the sight him, his smile growing even larger when Bucky spotted him and returned it in kind. 

“Hey honey.” Tony yawned and then scrunched up his face, brushing a hand through his hair to shake the snow out of it. “‘s snowing,” he added unnecessarily. 

Bucky huffed out a laugh. “I can see that.” He watched as Tony peeled off his suit jacket, revealing the band t-shirt underneath before he moved over to the couch, flopping down with his head on Bucky’s lap. Bucky settled his hands on Tony’s head, carding his fingers through the thick curls until Tony was humming. “Long morning, baby?” 

“Dumb morning,” Tony grumbled. “I hate paperwork.” He stretched his legs out on the couch, kicking his shoes off. Despite being a billionaire, he had a hole in his sock, and Bucky snorted at the sight of his big toe sticking out through the black cotton. “You laughin at me?” Tony asked Bucky’s thigh. “So rude. What a terrible boyfriend.” 

Bucky could hear the smile in his voice and rolled his eyes, watching Tony’s toes curl as he scratched over a particularly good spot. “Yup, life is really hard for you, huh? You should probably leave me.” 

“Never,” Tony declared, rolling onto his back so he could look up at Bucky, giving him a dopey smile. “You still going to the movies with Steve tonight?”

Bucky nodded, brushing a stray curl back from Tony’s forehead. “Yep. He’s pickin’ me up here around six.” He grinned then, eyes sparking. “‘s been a few days since I mentioned my missing holiday, so I think I’m gonna be in the mood to bake a cake.” 

“Niiice,” Tony crowed. “I like it.” 

“How about you, baby? Still got that thing this afternoon?”

“I mean... technically yes, but it is snowing...” Tony yawned again, snuggling in tighter against him. “Might be safer to stay home, you know, just in case.” 

Bucky could have made fun of him for Iron Man being afraid of some snow, but instead he just cheered. “Yeahhh. Snow day, sweetheart. Stay here all cozy with me, we can watch this dumb movie together, and then I’ll make us some lunch.”

“Well...” Tony snuggled in closer to Bucky, all but purring when the other man grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch and covered him up in it. “If you insist.” 

By the time Steve arrived to pick up Bucky, they had eaten and shared a nap and a very distracting shower. Steve stepped off the elevator to the familiar sounds of their good-natured bickering, which he followed to the kitchen. He found Bucky in boxer briefs and an apron, baking while Tony lounged in a kitchen chair, balancing it on two feet with his feet up on the table and offering completely unhelpful suggestions. 

“Oh, hey Cap,” he drawled when Steve wandered into the room, eyeing him with a slightly mischievous glint to his eyes. “Fancy meeting you here. Come on in, have a drink.” 

Bucky jolted at the sound of Steve’s name, spinning to stare at him and then blinking back and forth between Steve and the clock on the stove. 

“Shit!” he said, wiping a streak of flour across his cheek. “Is that the time already?” He tossed a tea towel at Tony, the fabric landing perfectly over his face. “Tony! You were supposed to tell me when it was time for me to stop and get ready!” 

“I know, honey, but you just looked so happy there cooking up a storm.” Tony blinked at him, all faux wide-eyed innocence. “Plus your ass looks real cute in that apron. I couldn’t stand to interrupt you.”

Steve snorted at him. “It’s no big deal,” he promised, helping himself to a glass of water before settling into the seat opposite Tony. “We can always catch the late movie.” 

“Ohoho,” Tony said, winking at him. “I’m on to you, Rogers. You’re just hoping Bucky Bear here’ll share.” 

“I mean...” Steve shrugged unashamedly, grinning back at him. “I certainly wouldn’t turn it down. Whatcha making anyway, Buck?” 

“Umm.” Bucky paused them, staring down at the mixing bowl with a slightly vacant expression, and if Steve had been looking, he would have noticed Tony’s lips twitching before he was suddenly fascinated by something on his tablet. “A cake?” he offered, and Steve tilted his head in confusion. 

“You don’t know what you’re making?” 

Bucky shrugged, apparently not bothered. “I dunno. Something about the snow, and the wind, and New York this time of year got me in a certain mood, and I just started throwing ingredients together.” He started mixing again, humming some big band music under his breath. “It’s got oranges in it,” he added, after a minute. 

Tony, watching Steve surreptitiously over the top of his tablet, noticed the way he went completely still. “Oranges?” he repeated, just a touch too casually. “That sounds good.” 

“Yup,” Bucky agreed, popping the p. “Some kind of orange cake.” He stopped then, turning to face Steve. “Hey, wait! That sounds familiar. Did we used to have this when we were kids?” 

“Uhh...” 

Tony had to drop his tablet under the table so that Steve wouldn’t see him laughing; dear lord, he was a terrible liar. 

“We didn’t have oranges a lot growing up, Buck,” Steve pointed out, not quite answering the question. 

“No, no, that’s right. I know,” Bucky waved him off, and Steve relaxed a little. “Oh, but was it a special occasion cake?” Bucky burst out, just as Steve was taking a sip of his water. “For a party or somethin’?”

Steve choked on his water, spluttering and coughing, and Tony crawled out from under the table to smack him on the back a couple times. 

“Jeez, Stevie,” Bucky drawled when he’d caught his breath again. “You alright?” 

“Yup,” Steve choked out, voice a little hoarse. “Yup, I’m fine. But, uh... I just remembered. The late movie is... sold out. Yup. So we should probably get going if we want to get tickets for tonight.” 

Bucky glanced at the cake mix and shrugged, tugging off his apron and sticking the mixing bowl into the fridge. “Cake’ll keep, I guess.” He pointed at Tony with his mixing spoon. “Don’t eat all the batter before I get back,” he threatened, busting into a smile when Tony just fluttered his eyelashes at him in his best ‘who, me?’ expression. 

Tony just waved him off. “Yeah, yeah. I’ve got to go downstairs and finish some stuff for Pep anyway,” he promised, giving Bucky a kiss on the cheek. “Have fun tonight, and stay out of trouble.” He paused on his way to the elevator, watching Bucky root around for his wallet and keys. “And don’t forget to put on pants, baby!” 

***

The closer they came to the day of his actual birthday, the more twitchy Steve got. He was constantly on edge, waiting for the moment when everything would come back to Bucky in a rush when he would make a big birthday announcement and give him away to everyone. But that moment never came, and Bucky stopped mentioning things about missing holidays. 

He was two days out from his actual birthday, and just beginning to relax a little. He was sprawled across a couch in the common room, watching a movie with Nat and Sam, when Bucky came into the room. 

“Oh, hey Stevie! I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

Steve looked over at him expectantly, and his eyes widened when he saw the envelope he was brandishing in his hand, the size and shape of a birthday card. Bucky waved it in the air. 

“This is-”

Steve panicked completely, and before Bucky could get more than two words out Steve was launching himself at him with a terrifyingly accurate rendition of an Asgardian battle cry. Bucky yelped in surprise as Steve flew through the air at him, knocking him to the ground. 

“Stevie, what the fuck?” Bucky managed to get out, planting his feet firmly against Steve’s chest to kick him off. 

Not to be deterred, Steve jumped on him again, wrestling Bucky right out of the room and not stopping until they were a safe distance from Nat and Sam. Bucky gave as good as he got, and they were both breathing hard when he let up. 

“Hey Stevie?” Bucky asked, leaning against the wall, hand against his chest as he caught his breath. “Full offence, but what the actual fuck?” 

“Umm...” Steve gave him a hopeful smile. “What’s in the envelope, Buck?” 

“There’s something wrong with you,” Bucky muttered, which Steve had to admit was probably fair. He shoved the envelope at him. “Here. Tony asked me to drop that off. It’s the specs for the new tac gear you two were talking about.” 

Steve blinked at the envelope. “It’s not a card?” he asked blankly, and Bucky stared at him like he had three heads. 

“What the fuck would I be giving you a card for, you dumb punk?” He hauled himself to his feet. “Freak,” he muttered, limping his way toward the elevator. Steve winced; that thigh kick had probably been unnecessarily hard. 

***

Tony was waiting for Bucky when he stepped off the elevator onto the penthouse, and he burst out laughing at the sight of him. “Oh my god, honey, that was perfect,” Tony told him, wiping tears from his eyes. “JARVIS showed me the whole thing. I think he would have thrown you out the window to keep you from giving him a birthday card in front of Nat and Sam.” He beamed at Bucky. “I liked the limp on your way out, by the way. That was a nice touch.” 

Bucky winced, rubbing at his leg. “Not an act,” he bit out. “Wasn’t an act. Fuck that idiot can kick hard.” 

“Oh shit,” Tony’s smile dropped, mirroring Bucky’s wince as he moved over to him. “You alright?” 

“I think he broke my thigh bone,” Bucky grumped. “Nah, I’m alright. It hurts like a bitch, but give it an hour or two and I’ll be fine.” He was still frowning though. “We got any frozen peas or somethin?”

Tony gave him a dry look. “Do I like like the kind of person who keeps frozen peas on hand?” he asked, huffing out a soft laugh at Bucky’s pout. “Luckily, I do have plenty of ice for my fully stocked wet bar,” he told him with an unnecessarily ridiculous wink. “Here, you go get comfy on the bed, I’ll bring you some ice for your leg.”

Bucky nodded and headed off, yelping when Tony gave him a swat on the ass on his way by. “You gonna stay with me?” he asked hopefully. 

“I suppose that can be arranged,” Tony called after him. “I’ve gotta make a call to Tokyo in a few hours, but nothing urgent before then. I can hang around till then. See if I can’t help you... feel better.” 

Bucky grinned, pleased, as he stripped down to his boxer briefs. There was a huge bruise on his outer thigh, a sick looking dark purple, and he examined it in the mirror, pressing on it a couple times and wincing at the pain. 

“Don’t poke it!” Tony protested, coming in behind him. “Honestly, what’s wrong with you?” He gave Bucky a shove that was mostly ineffective, but was enough to get Bucky to crawl carefully onto the bed, stretching out on his back with a low groan. Tony tossed him the ice pack, and Bucky applied it to the bruise, hissing at the touch of cold. 

“Such a baby,” Tony told him affectionately, stripping out of his own clothes to join Bucky on the bed. “Hey, you know what I’ve heard is the best cure for super solider-induced bruises?”

Bucky rolled his head to face him with an arched brow. “What’s that?”

Tony smirked at him. “Orgasms.” 

*** 

Though he’d caught a couple strange looks from him, Bucky thankfully hadn’t mentioned the Incident again. There’d also been no further hints of Bucky suddenly remembering that Steve was the biggest fraud in the universe. Steve had spent the next couple days feeling sheepish (Bucky was his oldest friend. He should be grateful he was getting his memory back) before accepting that this particular memory had fluttered away from him, and Steve was probably safe - at least until the next fourth of July, but that was future Steve’s problem. 

On the day of his actual birthday, Steve woke with a now familiar pit of anxiety in the bottom of his stomach, which he quickly shoved aside. Everything was fine, Bucky hadn’t remembered, and he wasn’t going to get caught out. And, provided there were no last minute supervillain attacks, he could spend the day like he always spent his birthday: a little quieter than usual, and with no recognition beyond the little cake he’d bought himself (already sitting in the fridge) and the couple of hours he’d carve out by himself (usually accompanied by masturbation jokes from Clint and Tony, but that was fine) to think back on the last year and everything he’d accomplished and how he could do better. 

And then, because that sounded sad and lonely enough to make Steve wince even in his head, movie night with hopefully everyone, but at the very least Tony and Bucky and Sam. A little quiet, but all-in-all a pretty perfect day. 

Which was why he couldn’t help being disappointed when Tony tracked him down to the library later that morning, apologies written all over his face. “Hey, Cap. Do you mind if we rain check movie night?” 

Steve blinked at him a minute before forcing a (he hoped) somewhat natural smile to his face. “Uh, yeah, sure,” he said. “Of course. Anything I should know about?” 

Tony waved a hand, looking like his mind was somewhere else entirely. “Just the usual comedy of fucking errors. Sam’s feeling under the weather, I guess, and Buckster won tickets to a show or something on a radio contest, of all things. I know,” he added, apparently misinterpreting the look on Steve’s face. “Who the fuck even listens to radio these days, and what’s he doing trying to win radio contests when I could just buy him tickets to whatever he wants to see.” 

“That’s not actually what I was going to say,” Steve said, smiling despite himself. Tony just shrugged and winked at him. 

“Anyway. Next week work for you?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve assured him, turning back to his book. “Have fun at your thing tonight. Try not to get caught fooling around in the bathroom this time.”

Tony narrowed his eyes at him. “That was one time!” he protested, eyes crinkling as he laughed. He headed for the door and then paused, looking back over his shoulder at him. “Hey, you’re sure you don’t mind?” he asked, more serious now. 

“Yes,” Steve told him. “It’s totally fine, I promise.” 

And it was fine, really. There were certainly far worse ways to spend his birthday. He’d spent a good seventy plus birthdays in a frozen ice coma, for instance. Those had probably been way less fun than hanging around here. (Although he couldn’t actually remember, so who knew? Maybe some polar bears had shown up with party hats.) At any rate, this was certainly better than the alternative of having them figure out he’d been lying about his birthday for the past few years. 

And so maybe there was a tiny part of Steve that couldn’t help wishing Bucky had remembered because even if it would be embarrassing as hell, it would be nice to have someone know what today was. Sure, he got to celebrate on the fourth of July, and in the end it was just a day and it didn’t really matter. But the fourth of July was a big day for everyone, and his birthday always got tied in with that until he didn’t even really know which part they were actually celebrating, and maybe it was just from his mother always telling him that his birthday was a special day just for him, but celebrating on the fourth always felt just a little empty.

***

Bucky hummed to himself as he moved through the aisles of the party store, blatantly ignoring the huffy sighs that were coming from behind him at regular intervals.

“Remind me again why I’m here helping you shop for party supplies?” Sam finally said when Bucky continued to ignore his attempts at telegraphing how unimpressed he was.

“Because Tony’s doing the food and cake,” Bucky replied, like it was obvious. He was considering two different sets of balloons, and didn’t see the way Sam threw up his hands because that meant nothing to him. 

“I’m s’posed to be eating pizza and watching movies right now,” he groused. “Why am I cancelling on Steve?” 

“He thinks you’re sick.”

Sam blinked at the back of Bucky’s head. “Why does he think I’m sick?” 

“Because that’s what we told him.” Bucky turned abruptly with a pleasant smile, apparently not at all surprised to find Sam three inches from the back of his head, and thrust a package of balloons at him. “Here. See if you can find more of these in the next aisle.”

Sam sighed wearily. “And why are we buying orange balloons for a party in early December?” he asked, not looking like he expected an answer that made any sense. 

“Because that’s Steve’s favourite colour.” 

“Oh, right. Of course,” Sam grumbled, following along behind him as Bucky headed for the streamers. “Wait, I thought Steve’s favourite colour was red.” 

Bucky gave him a shit-eating grin. “Nah. That’s just what the powers that be want you to think. ‘s more patriotic. But he couldn’t even see red growing up. His favourite colour is orange.” 

Sam didn’t bother asking why the balloons had to be in Steve’s favourite colour. 

***

“Okay, but really,” Sam said as he took the bowls of chips Bucky had handed him and set them out on the table. He glanced around the common area, messily decorated in orange and silver streamers and balloons with a Captain America piñata that clashed horribly with everything else. “Why am I cancelling on Steve? I’m right here!” 

Bucky was saved answering by the arrival of all the other avengers (minus Steve) in the elevator, Tony herding them into the room like an over-excited border collie, a maniacal grin on his face. 

“That’s not concerning at all,” Clint mumbled on his way by, Bruce snorting in agreement. 

Tony sidled up to Bucky, beaming as he eyed the decorations. They may have gotten a little over enthusiastic with the balloons. “Nice job, babe,” he preened, giving Bucky a kiss that earned them groans and protests and threats of leaving from the other avengers. “No, no, don’t go!” Tony said, pulling himself free of his boyfriend. “We’ve gathered you all here for a very special announcement.” He looked to Bucky. “Honey, would you like to do the honours?” 

Bucky rolled his eyes at Tony’s dramatics, even while he couldn’t stop himself from grinning. “We’re, uh... pranking Steve. So you know... Everybody duck, and when Steve comes in we’ll all yell ‘surprise!’”

Everyone blinked at them. 

“Uhhh... You know I love a good prank as much as anybody,” Clint started. “But this seems a little weak.”

“Seriously?” Sam added. “This is what you had me skipping movie night and going shopping for?”  

Bucky grinned at him. “Trust me. It’s worth it.”

The response was lukewarm, and met with a fair share of grumbling, but there was cake on offer, so they managed to get everyone hidden around the room. Bucky and Tony claimed a spot behind one of the couches, crouching down behind the cushy fabric, Tony giggling as they waited for Jarvis to send Steve down. 

“Shhh,” Bucky whispered, pulling Tony in and kissing his temple because how could he resist. “You’re gonna give us away.” 

“Sorry,” Tony whispered back, smothering another giggle into his sleeve. “I’m just picturing the look on Steve’s face.” 

At that moment the elevator dinged, door opening and emptying Steve into the room. “Um,” he said, footsteps a little tentative as he took in the dark space. “Nat? Jarvis said you needed me for something?” He heaved a sigh, scratching at the back of his head. “Said it was urgent?” 

Their execution was less than perfect, with Tony jumping up a split second before anybody else and the word ‘surprise’ coming out as more of a question from everyone, and the lights turning on somewhere in the middle of all the noise. But Steve didn’t seem to notice. He stared at them all, jaw dropping open and face going so white that Bucky was briefly concerned that he might actually pass out. His mouth opened and shut a few times, unable to actually form words, and then,

“Oh, fuck me.”  

The maniacal grin on Tony’s face faltered slightly, and Bucky shifted a half step toward him. “Stevie? Buddy? You okay?” 

Steve waved him off, collapsing into a chair with a groan and hiding his face in his hands. “How long’ve you known?” he asked wearily, rolling his eyes when their grins returned full force. 

“Couple weeks,” Tony told him cheerily. “Since Bucky casually mentioned that we should get started on planning something for the day.” 

“Okay, wait,” Clint said, looking back and forth between the three of them. “What the hell is going on right now?” 

He seemed to be speaking for the group and Steve stared at them with wide eyes before whipping his head back around to Tony and Bucky. “You didn’t tell them??” 

“Tell us what?” Sam asked as Bucky’s grin turned a little evil. 

“We thought we’d leave the honours up to you, punk.”

Steve glared at the two of them, but Bucky just beamed back, wrapping an arm around Tony’s shoulder and whispering something into his ear that had Tony laughing. He rolled his eyes before figuring what the fuck and turning to everyone else. 

“Today is my birthday,” he announced, before being met with blank stares all around. He sighed and threw up his arms. “My birthday’s not the fourth of July. Never was. So. Surprise back, I guess?” 

Bucky snorted loudly at that, and Steve rolled his eyes at him.

“Okay,” Sam said, looking back and forth between Steve and Bucky. “Lemme get this straight. You’re saying that your birthday is today?” 

“Yep.”

“And all these years we’ve been celebrating on the fourth of July instead?”

“Yep.”

“I... How?” 

Steve shrugged helplessly. “Propaganda, I guess?” 

Sam stared at him, the corners of his lips starting to twitch. “And all this time, you just let us go on thinking the the fourth really was your birthday?” 

“Also yep.” 

He wasn’t sure who started it, but then the entire team was laughing at him, and surprisingly... It wasn’t as bad as Steve had expected. It was all good-natured ribbing, and instead of feeling humiliated, he couldn’t help feeling accepted instead - especially when Sam cuffed him on the shoulder with an affectionate “only you, man.” Steve couldn’t help laughing too, after that, because really the entire situation was ridiculous. 

And after, when everyone had calmed down, there was his favourite cake, and his favourite snacks, and his favourite soda, and balloons in his favourite colour. Everyone was having a good time, and there were stupid party games that nobody won because they kept ending laughing too hard to finish, and he got to crack a poorly rendered piñata of himself in half which was weirdly cathartic. And best of all, it was just them. No fireworks, no extravagance, just his best friends - his team - and everything that he would have asked for from a birthday party. 

And when he apologized for letting them go all out for his parties in the past, and Tony told him not to be ridiculous, that they’d still be having those parties, but from now on the fourth of July was Cap’s birthday, and the third of December was reserved solely for Steve? Well, Steve felt warm right through. 

... Didn’t mean Bucky and Tony weren’t gonna get payback in the worst way though.

@tonystarkbingo @winterironbingo

[kilapsaww]

Confessions of an armchair journalist

MY THIRD article for the day involves a scuffle between President Rodrigo Duterte and Vice President Leni Robredo. The chief executive is insisting to have the latter take charge of his anti-drug campaign. The veep, backed by her vocal supporters, takes time to accept the random offer. If her retaliation was quicker and had read something like, “Bring it on,” there would be less room for the DDS to call her “duwag,” “tamad,” “Leni lugaw,” et cetera. I weave together the statements of the two highest officials of the land while munching on some stale pan de sal at my office in Mandaluyong.

I could call it a day except I am running late to a story conference for my other job. I prepared more than five story proposals just in case my executive producer comes in late again: Brexit delays, Trump’s looming impeachment, the Hong Kong turmoil, the simultaneous unrests in Chile, Lebanon, and Bolivia, and the deadly earthquakes that jolted parts of the Philippines just so I could squeeze in my corner of the world to the weekly global newscast I produce for.

I should be going home after securing my story assignments for the show, but I have so far pleased only three out of four bosses. That’s how my Wednesdays go: I cry a river of digital content while producing a morning talk show, scour for raw news clips from the Associated Press’s video bank, and then play a virtual tug-of-war on Viber with my anchor for a radio show that airs on Saturdays. Sometimes I wonder how I get things done and still manage to sleep, and then I remember I am just in the comforts of a dim-lit, airconditioned, rumored-to-be-close-to-bankruptcy office.

The jobs I juggle as a fresh graduate are a stark contrast from what I envisioned. While close to a thousand students belted the university hymn on our graduation day, I was busy daydreaming of seeing my byline on any of the three major dailies in the country. I have always wanted to become a print journalist. It was probably an inherited interest from my father, who unfortunately died too early to stop me from walking the same dangerous path he did. But I had constantly convinced myself that the mole on my right foot meant the Lord had pre-assigned me to scrape the field for exclusive stories, except my mother would say it only symbolized my being “layas.”

I left the office just before the sun flirted with the gigantic “M” that points to McDonald’s. My condo unit is just roughly 100 steps from the fast food chain. I got myself some burger and fries before proceeding to the dilapidated building I call home.

“Wahaha di mo kc kaya LENI LUGAW.. BBM is real vp..”

“Kapag hindi effective ang war on drugs ibig sabihin di ito umepekto XD di b Leni Lugaw?”

“Tatay digong we love u here from Saudi.. ”

My article this morning has so far lured some two hundred comments, most of them written by seemingly the same person. I would educate all of them about ad hominem, or at least how to type like a human being, but that would be beyond my pay grade. I devoured my evil combination of a meal and then browsed further into the deepest parts of my company’s Facebook page. By deepest I mean the troll department, or the comment section, or the wrestling ring where Duterte devotees, the dilawans, and those neither make the most of their internet connections defending their political patron saints. I scanned the whole thing, made faces, then decided to call it a day.

***

I came unusually early for the feature talk show I write for the next day. It was one of the few episodes we tackled something newsy, hence close to my heart. We had a former Agriculture secretary clashing with the department’s current spokesman. I have been writing about rice farmers’ plight under the heavily-criticized rice liberalization law for months now. After the hour-long banter, my anchor proceeded to pooling his staff together to talk about the story outlook for the week. No praise, or at least mention, of this morning’s newsy episode. I do not think my anchor is journalist enough.

But neither am I.

Early into college, I encountered the term “armchair journalism” from my news writing professor, who was probably the most grumpy and aggressive person to introduce the term to aspiring newsmen like me. He passionately bashed the practice, saying journalists should not be labeled one sans direct interaction with sources, or the scorching heat in the field, or the slim chance of exhausting an exclusive off pressers in this era of pack journalism. It was among the few lectures that stuck to me after graduation, precisely because I had vowed to dodge it the best way I could. Except here I am now—writing hundreds of stories without meeting my sources in flesh.

Do not get me wrong, I am all for the upgraded accessibility and convenience courtesy of the fast-changing media landscape. Plus, my current job definitely puts food on the table. But although I am always just a bold decision away from taking on a fieldwork, I dread the lack of financial safety net that everyone—literally everyone in the print industry I am friends with right now—has been warning me about. After all, journalism is public service. What matters most is how it drives a society into acting on pressing issues.

I dressed up the last few paragraphs of my article on the Duterte-initiated drug war’s new czar, pacified my radio anchor who kept insisting his Tokyo car show tour was newsy, updated my LinkedIn profile, then took the last sip of my Starbucks staple.

[bountyofbeads]

Hong Kong police make 'largest ever' seizure of explosives on eve of protests

https://www.cnn.com/2019/07/20/asia/hong-kong-explosives-haul-intl-hnk/index.html

Hong Kong police make 'largest ever' seizure of explosives on eve of protests

By Jenni Marsh, Sarah Faidell and Kenneth Leung | Updated Jul 20, 2019 | CNN | Posted July 20, 2019 |

Hong Kong (CNN) - Police in Hong Kong have seized what is thought to be the largest ever cache of high-powered explosives uncovered in the city, in a raid Friday night on a suspected bomb-making factory.

The discovery comes on the eve of a series of high-profile protests planned over the weekend, amid high tensions in the semi-autonomous Chinese city over a now-suspended extradition bill.

At a press conference Saturday, police confirmed the arrest of 27-year-old man in connection with the raid at what officers called a homemade laboratory in the industrial area of Tsuen Wan.

Police uncovered 2 kilograms (4.4 pounds) of high explosives, 10 petrol bombs, corrosive liquids, weapons and metal poles at the property.

"It's the largest such seizure we have ever come across in Hong Kong," said Alick Mcwhirter, superintendent of the Explosive Ordinance Disposal (EOD) Bureau. Leaflets linked to anti-extradition bill protests were also found on site.

Police said they were still testing the raw materials, but believe triacetone triperoxide (TATP) was found at different manufacturing stages at the suspected laboratory. EOD officers carried out a controlled explosion Saturday morning and were expected to perform more throughout the day.

A powerful high explosive, TATP was used in the November 2015 Paris attacks, the March 2016 Brussels bombings, the 2017 May Manchester bombing and a failed bomb attempt by an Islamist extremist at the Gare Centrale in Brussels in 2017.

TATP is made by adding acid to a mixture of acetone and hydrogen peroxide solution and can easily result in accidental detonation if mistakes are made in preparation.

Superintendent Steve Li Kwai-wah, of the Organized Crime and Triad Bureau, said the man arrested was wearing a shirt with the logo of the banned pro-independence group Hong Kong National Front.

Rallies are taking place across Hong Kong on Saturday and Sunday, with both pro-government and anti-extradition bill marches scheduled.

Li did not say if extra police would be arranged for protests this weekend as a result of the raid.

Mass demonstrations calling for government reforms and democracy have become a familiar sight in Hong Kong over the past six weeks, as hundreds of thousands of people have taken to the streets.

The demonstrations were initially sparked by strong public opposition to a bill that would have allowed people in Hong Kong to be extradited to face trial in mainland China.

Though the bill has since been suspended, demonstrations have continued against a backdrop of increased acrimony between protesters and police.

[thephilosopheroftheboudoir]

Grim History

The Principality of Sealand: The World’s Most Successful Micronation

        No doubt, most people with an above average IQ have at some time started a sentence with the phrase “If I had my own country...” Idealistic college students, eccentrics, social theorists, crackpot windbag amateur political commentators, gregarious barroom drunks...probably most of society’s discontents have entertained the idea of running their own nation for at least a few seconds. There was, however, once a man named Paddy Roy Bates who went all the way, declared himself king, and founded the Principality of Sealand.  His venture into obscure political history did not come without its conflicts but many would say it was worth the trouble in the end.

    Sealand is located on HM Fort Roughs or Roughs Tower as it is more commonly known. The British navy built the structure during World War II as a defense fortress for the sake of fighting off German invaders, coming from across the sea. Roughs Tower is built on the seabed; it has two pillars and a deck that connects them across the top. The deck has a landing pad for helicopters. The structure is about seven nautical miles off the coast of England. The closest city is Suffolk.

    After England’s victory at the end of World War II, Roughs Tower was abandoned. By the 1960s, it had been discovered and taken over by a group of young pirate radio broadcasters who transmitted their Wonderful Radio London station across the waves and into Great Britain. Then came Paddy Roy Bates.

    Bates had formerly served as a major in the British navy. After re-entering civilian life, he gained some experience as a pirate radio-station operator. Eventually he decided to seize Roughs Tower and use it for his own purposes. In 1967, the British government claimed his radio station to be illegal and guilty of broadcasting entertainment without a license. Rather than contesting the charges in court, he declared himself King Roy Bates (although King Badass would have been just as suitable) and established the Principality of Sealand, thereby stating that Great Britain had no jurisdiction over Roughs Tower; this claim had some validity since British territorial waters ended six nautical miles offshore and the fledgling micronation was located one nautical mile beyond that point. The King of Sealand then made his family the official royal family. He wrote up a constitution, eventually went on to mint money and publish passports which, inevitably, were never recognized internationally for travel to other countries. Sealand hired a composer to write a national anthem, established an order of knighthood, and even put together their own national football team, albeit one that was made up of non-citizens, never receiving recognition from FIFA. King Roy Bates kept Sealand afloat financially by running his pirate radio station, raising revenue by running his own offshore radio shows and charging advertisers for airtime, a lucrative business in those days since Britain’s established radio programming was known for being lackluster and boring.

    Then some troubles began. Ronan O’Rahilly, the founder of another pirate station called Radio Caroline tried to seize Roughs Tower from King Roy Bates. O’Rahilly and his gang were met with gas bombs when they tried to come ashore. The bombings made so much noise that the British navy sent out a few soldiers to calm the conflict down but upon arrival, the king’s son, Prince Michael, began firing warning shots with his rifle. The navy eventually took command of Sealand, King Roy and Prince Michael were arrested, and taken to court in England on illegal weapons possessions charges. The court dropped the case because, as previously stated, Sealand’s location was in international waters and not under the rule of the U.K.  King Roy later used this incident as, some might say, rather flimsy evidence to meet the minimum requirements for declaration of statehood under United Nations law, the minimum requirement being recognition of legitimacy by another established nation.

    After declaring Sealand an official country, the smallest nation in the world no less, King Roy continued to scheme. He envisioned the dismal looking Roughs Tower as being an ideal site for an offshore hotel and casino. In 1978, he attracted the attention of a German lawyer and Sealand passport holder named Alexander Achenbach. This individual lured King Roy to meet a group of investors in Austria but the investors never showed up for the conference. Meanwhile, the con-man Achenbach had landed on Roughs Tower with a group of mercenary soldiers that he hired for the operation. Prince Michael was taken captive and thrown into prison (actually the room at the bottom of one of the pillars) where they kept him for three days without food or water before Achenbach declared himself the new king of Sealand.

    The ever-resourceful King Roy built up a mercenary army of his own and hired a helicopter pilot, who had worked as such in a couple James Bond movies, to lead a counter-attack on Sealand and end the coup d’etat. Upon arrival, King Roy’s band of soldiers seized caches of weapons that were hidden in secret locations throughout Roughs Tower, captured Achenbach and then thew him into prison in place of Prince Michael. King Roy declared ransom money for the return of the German lawyer, causing diplomats from the Netherlands, Germany, and Austria to put pressure on Great Britain to get the faux-revolutionary released. After pay-offs and negotiations, Achenbach was released and returned to Germany. His Sealand passport was revoked and the nutty lawyer continued calling himself the official and  unfairly deposed king of Sealand, claiming to be running a government in exile from Germany. Since international diplomats had been involved in the affair, King Roy again declared de facto international recognition in further attempts to gain official recognition of statehood.

    The Principality of Sealand remained a quiet outpost of individual freedom until the 1990s and the dawn of the internet era. An internet businessman approached King Roy about operating an offshore data management firm from the platform of the micronation. The deal eventually fell through. The Swedish file-sharing website Pirate Bay also approached King Roy about operating off Roughts Tower since it was a place where copyright infringement was not considered a legal issue. That deal never got off the ground either. Alexander Achenbach showed up once again, this time in association with an organized crime gang based in Spain and made up of human traffickers from Russia and Iraq; the gang was using Sealand passports issued by Achenbach’s government in exile to smuggle human cargo into and out of Hong Kong. King Roy and the royal family responded by revoking all Sealand passports and ceasing to print any more. King Roy had no problem with offshore gambling or transmitting porn into countries in the Middle East but slavery just was not his game.

    At the onset of old age, King Roy was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease and spent the rest of his days in an English nursing home on the mainland. He died in 2012 and his son, Prince Michael, became the reigning monarch, though he lives ashore in the UK where he manages the political affairs of Sealand, the most successful micronation in history.

Strauss, Erwin S. How to Start Your Own Country. Palladin Press, 1984.

https://grimhistory.blogspot.com/

[fymonsta-x]

Eyes of HW ϟ do not edit or crop logo.