#rapid authoring tools
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prodientio · 5 months ago
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Rapid Course Development Solutions to Accelerate Learning Design
Rapid Development: Faster than a cup of coffee
Imagine turning your creative visions into fully-fledged eLearning courses within minutes, not hours or days. With Prodient.io, the days of laborious course development are over.
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Rapid Development feature is designed for efficiency, allowing you to seamlessly translate your ideas into engaging and interactive courses without the steep learning curve.
The user-friendly interface streamlines the entire development process, enabling you to focus on crafting quality content rather than grappling with complex tools.
Say goodbye to long development cycles and hello to agility.
For more information, visit: https://prodient.io/
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commlabindia · 1 year ago
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tesseractlearningpvtltd · 1 year ago
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What are the most important features in an eLearning Authoring Tool?
 When considering an eLearning authoring tool, especially for rapid content development, several important features can significantly impact your ability to create effective and engaging eLearning materials. Here are some of the most crucial features to look for:
1. User-Friendly Interface: An intuitive and user-friendly interface is essential for rapid authoring. It should not require extensive technical expertise, allowing instructional designers and subject matter experts to create content easily.
2. Templates and Themes: Pre-designed templates and themes can expedite content creation by providing a consistent and visually appealing structure. These templates should be customizable to align with your organization's branding and style.
3. Multimedia Integration: The ability to integrate various multimedia elements such as images, videos, audio, and animations is vital for creating engaging content. Look for tools that support multiple media formats.
4. Responsive Design: Ensure that the tool allows you to create content that is responsive and adaptable to different devices and screen sizes, including desktops, tablets, and smartphones.
5. Interactivity: Interactivity is key for engaging learners. Look for features that enable the creation of interactive elements like quizzes, assessments, simulations, and branching scenarios.
6. Assessment and Feedback: Effective eLearning authoring tools should provide options for creating assessments, quizzes, and surveys. They should also allow for the incorporation of feedback mechanisms to enhance the learning experience.
7. SCORM Compliance: SCORM (Sharable Content Object Reference Model) compliance is crucial if you plan to integrate your content with Learning Management Systems (LMS). It ensures compatibility and tracking capabilities.
8. Collaboration Tools: If you have a team working on content development, collaborative features such as real-time co-authoring, comments, and version control can streamline the process.
9. Content Versioning: The ability to save and access previous versions of your content is essential for content management and updates.
10. Analytics and Reporting: Robust analytics and reporting tools allow you to track learner progress, assess the effectiveness of your content, and make data-driven improvements.
11. Accessibility Features: Ensure that the tool supports accessibility standards (e.g., WCAG) to create content that is inclusive and can be accessed by learners with disabilities.
12. Integration Capabilities: Look for tools that can integrate with other software and platforms, such as Learning Management Systems, to facilitate content deployment and tracking.
13. Content Publishing Options: Check if the tool offers multiple publishing options, including HTML5, SCORM packages, and mobile app compatibility, to ensure your content can be delivered in various formats.
14. Support and Training: Assess the availability of customer support and training resources provided by the tool's vendor to assist with any technical issues or learning curve challenges.
15. Cost-Effectiveness: Consider your budget and evaluate the tool's pricing structure, ensuring it aligns with your organization's needs and resources.
Prodient.io offers a comprehensive eLearning authoring tool that incorporates many of these crucial features, making it suitable for rapid content development. It's a great option to explore, but remember to assess your specific requirements to determine the best fit for your eLearning needs.
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typhlonectes · 27 days ago
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Scientists develop groundbreaking method for detecting DNA of invasive snakes in Florida
Scientists at the University of Florida have developed a pioneering tool to bolster Florida's defenses against invasive species: a DNA-based environmental monitoring test that can pinpoint where they've been, aiding eradication efforts.
Once a nonnative species gets into an environment, it is often too late to get rid of it, and the focus shifts to containment or long-term management. Both approaches come with heavy costs concerning native wildlife and funding, explained Melissa Miller, lead author on the study and an invasion ecologist at the UF/IFAS Fort Lauderdale Research and Education Center (UF/IFAS FLREC). "We hope this novel eDNA sampling tool we have designed will help increase efficiency in invasive species management, allowing for early detection and rapid removal of nonnative species," she said...
Read more:
https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2024/11/241122130344.htm
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running-with-kn1ves · 2 years ago
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Can you make something for a yandere masochist? Smut please
A/N: Working on all the reqs in my inbox, I just don't have much time to write! No pressure but donations always help if yall want your requests written faster!
CW: Noncon/Dubcon, yandere themes, kidnapping, threats, Sub! Masochistic yandere, aggressive-ish reader, NSFW
Synopsis: You find yourself kidnapped by your shy boyfriend who claims he's going to "take care of you."
Word Count: 3000 -- Tags ^^: @moonlight-melanin
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If someone had told you that your meek nerd of a boyfriend would be the one to ever kidnap you, you probably would have laughed in their face. Your boyfriend who trips over every sidewalk crack? Your boyfriend who needs your help opening a water bottle? Your boyfriend, who begs for you to wrap your hand around his neck and worships the ground you walk on, no matter how hard you protest?
 No way in hell. 
Except, the utter blasphemy that was such an idea, was true. It was only a few nights ago that you found yourself bound by your hands and feet to a familiar bed. Your boyfriend, Rex, vaguely explained that he was "protecting you", and "keeping you away from bad people!” 
You came to the conclusion that the harm that he was supposedly protecting you from, was most likely your overly friendly coworkers and demanding job. Who knew a 9 to 5 could be so dangerous? Clearly your boyfriend. However, his ridiculous behavior didn’t falter no matter how many times you tried to convince him, no matter how many threats or bribes you threw his way. 
Sometimes he’d be nearly swayed, but something in his mind always snapped back, telling you that its alright if you despise him, if you follow out with your threats; as long, as he got to keep you safe. 
For how obedient and eager to please he was, you never realized how stubborn he could be. But unfortunately for what he had in stubbornness, he lacked in wit and authority. He always fell into your hands when it came to you offering physical affection as a secretive ploy to try and escape; not to mention, he wasn’t very good at keeping his hostages tied up.
By the third night of your capture, you managed to slip your moist hands out of the loose, steel handcuffs. Digging an old pen into the large hole of the chain cuff wrapped around your ankle, you wiggled it around to find that sweet spot that would release you. You were grateful for being able to reach the bedside drawer, finding a multitude of tools within it that helped you including the pen that was once yours, and some lotion that made your palms slick enough to slip out of the handcuffs. While you were grateful for their presence nearby, you didn’t want to know why they were close to the bed in the first place. 
You continued to roughly wiggle the pen, not hearing any clicks or cracks within the lock that would signify your release. The chain around your ankle wouldn't budge at all. At some point along the way with all your jamming of it into the lock’s hole, the pen got stuck. 
“No no no,” You whispered, trying to tug the pen out. You pulled as hard as you could, to no avail as ink began to stain your fingers. 
Well, your kidnapper would certainly notice that. 
You looked around, feeling incredibly anxious now that you were only halfway free, aware that it'd be unlikely that you got to keep this little escape trial to yourself. Though, the freedom of your hands made you feel more powerful than you had in days.
But the quick and excited footsteps outside of the bedroom door made your stomach sink. They drew closer, only stopping to fill the silence with a rapid knock to the door. Beads of sweat rolled down your neck as your dry mouth swallowed; with shaking fingers, you covered up your hands and feet under the bed comforter. 
‘Just keep them under the blanket, and he won’t notice…’
The door opened shortly after the knock, not waiting for you to respond. In came your Rex, your boyfriend-slash-kidnapper. He clammed up with a tenseness as you scowled. You brought back your signature glare that you looked at him with during the days of your capture; he seemed to shrink into himself as you didn't break eye contact. 
"Did… you like dinner? He asked, looking at your plate on the bedside table. Eyeing the plate with a frown, Rex shut the door behind him. He walked closer to your place on the bed, inspecting the plate. 
"You've hardly eaten anything since…"
"Since you kidnapped me?"
He went silent. Avoiding your judgemental stare.
"You know I'm just trying to keep you safe…" He said meekly, not fond of your cold behavior. 
"I don't want to talk, Rex. Just leave." You snarl.
 Folding your arms you turn away and focus your attention on the setting sun outside the window, reminding you that once again you'll be here for another night… another day here when you wake up. 
Rex sits down on the bed next to you, his mop of curly black hair covering his desperate face. He wouldn't be able to take it if you played the silent treatment with him-- even when you were angry like this, he'd rather suffer your wrath than hear the empty silence of his endless thoughts, keeping your sweet lips shut so tightly. 
"Please," he gripped the blankets atop your legs, trying to find a place to touch you. "I'm just doing what a boyfriend should do, don’t you get that? Why can't you understand me?"
You continued to stay silent, hearing Rex gulp as he realized you were serious in keeping your mouth shut. 
He began to grow antsy… there was a feeling of isolation in how he couldn't see all of your face as you kept your gaze to the window, how he couldn't even hold your hand or see your body beneath the mass of blanket. 
"Come on, don’t be like that…” 
Rex rolled his tongue over his teeth, gripping harder onto the sheets. His hand shakes as it reaches for yours, desperately hoping you wouldn’t tug away. 
Once he feels your arm go limp, he wastes no time in bringing it up to his cheek, hoping to feel some sort of warmth from you. Rex presses his cheek into your fingers, finding a sliver of relief in how warm and tender you feel against him. He’s hardly had the luxury of such affection since you were huddled up in his apartment. 
You don’t dare to look at the man, debating whether interrupting him or continuing to let him nuzzle would alert him faster on the fact that your handcuffs were gone. 
You didn’t have much time to think when you suddenly felt him go still, a newfound grip on your hand. He squeezed with thick fingers, the lovelust gone from his touch.
You turn to look at Rex, finding that you could not see his eyes beneath his hair and shadowed glasses. He shifted from crushing your fingers to choking your wrist, panic setting into your body. 
Rex looked up, far more quiet than you were expecting. You began to twist your arm, trying to pull it away as he bore into you. You knew the guy was odd when you first started dating, and was clearly deranged after this kidnapping fiasco-- but you never saw it clearer until now. His eyes seemed to sink into his skin as his face drained of all color. He looked almost sick, like someone hungry to hurt without any remorse. Rex’s blunt nails dug into your skin as you started to tug away roughly; his hunched body was like a feral animal ready to strike. 
Seeing as he already found out about your escape attempt, you decided it wasn’t worth wasting this chance. Maybe you could knock him down a few before he managed to get you chained up again, giving you more time before he did who knows what. 
“These arms are awfully bare.” His monotonous voice uttered. 
Rex pressed on the bruises on your wrist of where the handcuffs dug into, his eyes glazing over as you grunted in pain. Still, you fought. You brought your other arm to try and pull off his fingers, only for Rex to shift on the bed and force himself upon you. His sharp knees dug into the sides of your thighs, pulling your other arm off of him as he laid them both beside your head, against the pillows. For being quite frail and shy, he had far more strength in his desperation than you expected. You could see that he was giving his all, only tearing up momentarily when your fingers scratch him or your elbow rams into his nose. 
Within the tussle Rex managed to find the handcuffs, of which you only hid underneath the blankets beside you. Every time you tried to heighten your knees to push him off, Rex pressed deeper, bruising your skin and making you bite your lip in frustration and pain. His loose clothes and your mess of blankets made it hard to find a grip in pushing him off.
Rex pulled the cuffs up, shakily and forcefully wrapping them upon your wrists. Pulling them over the bedpost, he watched as you struggled to get out of them. But he didn’t look down at you with a smirk or a sadistic grin-- Instead, it appeared to be relief. 
Your boyfriend lowered himself to your chest as he went limp, his previous expression void of emotion except for stunned shock, shifted to a tired, nervous frown. 
“I-I don’t do this because I want to, you know.” You burn holes into him with your glare, straining to pull the cuff chain over the bedpost as Rex sat on your torso. “You don’t give me a choice!”
His loose shirt showed the front of his collarbones and the elongated muscles in his neck, the male gulping as he looked guiltily down at your chest. You were sweating from the fear and strain against the tightened metal binds. 
“Fuck off.” You grunt, continuing to tug and pull away from your tethers. 
Rex seemed to get antsy at watching you try to struggle and claw at him. His hips twitched as he moved to sit on your legs, trying to keep you from kicking him off. 
“But…If you keep pulling like that, your bruises will only get worse.” 
“I don’t give a shit.” You snapped, hardly letting him finish. Spitting towards him you continued to fight; that only seemed to spur Rex on. 
He wiggled against your hips, looking down away from you in embarrassment. the male beginning to hold your knees down, his legs wrapped around your left thigh. 
“I’m just trying to do what’s best for us…” He huffed, laying his head down on your chest, and holding onto you. 
“Rex!” You shout angrily at his innaction, trying to knee him as you pushed away from the headboard. 
“I know, I know!” You could feel the hardness inbetween his legs press against your thigh. “You can hate me if you want, can hurt me if it makes you feel better,” He meekly bit his lip with a little grunt, hesitating for a moment before he pushed his hips against your thigh. “But I can’t let you leave.”
Seeing as your struggle didn’t impede his movements, Rex slowly rocked himself against you to apply pressure. He relished in how your knee came up to grace his crotch in a stinging pleasure. You may have done it in an attempt to push him off, but all it managed to do was further Rex’s desire for your brashness, and you.
“I’m yours…” He huffed, pushing his face into the warmth of your chest. His crotch aligned with your hip, adding a new sensation as he humped like a touch-starved, horny animal. “Im yours, I’m yours I’m yours I’m yours I’m--ngh--” 
 Rex bit the collar of your shirt to stop from crying out, his moan muffled into your body as he rocked at a rhythm. In a mix of huffs he lifted his head to search for your eyes and lips. He reached up to collide his lips with yours, pressing his knee between your legs, spreading them just gently. His hands traveled down your chest slowly, hesitantly. He was always waiting for your next move, always soaking in every touch and taste of you that he could. 
You pushed against his lips, turning and ripping your mouth away. 
“I know you want to leave, but maybe I can change your mind,” He looked at you with lovestruck eyes, a growing pleasure within them. “Maybe make you feel good. I’m atleast good at that, right?” He shyly palmed at your crotch, determined and eager to make you cry out in the same desire he was swelling in. 
He just wanted your eyes to be on him. 
Rex continued to grind himself deeper into your upper thigh, wrapping his legs around your side. He released a little pant while traveling cold fingers down your chest, pulling up your shirt to expose your stomach. Reaching between your legs, he licked his lips in anticipation, cupping your sex with his hand ever so gently. 
Shutting his lips he tried to suppress his evident moans, pushing his lips against yours as he begged for an ounce of affection. You in turn, bit his bottom lip in retaliation, pressing up against to get a good clench on his mouth. You hoped it’d be enough to get him off of you, but instead Rex pressed harder, grunting in pained pleasure as he welcomed the ache. The taste of blood was left in your mouth, Rex still leaving sloppy kisses along your nipping lips, drooling as he pushed his slick tongue in your mouth, rubbing it against yours. His glasses seemed to shift downward, making him look even more of a mess.
Even as you pulled at his hair from your restraint position, Rex let out a surprised yelping groan, humping harder into your leg at the newfound pain. 
“Please, I promise to be good…” He begs between wet, one-sided kisses. “ I’ll do whatever you w…want…!” Rex hieghtened his voice with a desperate groan, showing he was close to his climax. 
His frenzied pleas showed the familiar side of the boyfriend you remembered before he kidnapped you: quiet, clingy, and too infatuated for his own good.
You could feel a wet spot of leaked pre-cum on your thigh, Rex’s hand delving under your now unbuttoned pants. 
He was quick to palm your crotch from beneath your underwear, gripping and massaging as he chased his own high, fixated on your scrunched up expression. 
His slightly open mouth drooled against your shirt as he looked up at you, desperate for you to reciprocate some kind of affection or attention. 
Rex’s expression showed he was completely enamored in the moment, with glazed over eyes and a eagerness in his thrusts as his mind solely focused on the pleasure between his weak thighs and getting something-- anything, from you. 
“You’re disgusting.” You say bitterly, grabbing Rex’s hair in another attempt to get him off of you and ruin his high. However, that did neither. 
Rex looked even more turned on, letting out painful moans at feeling you tug multiple times.
“Yes.. hah, please-- use me, do what you want--” You bit down on his shoulder as he pressed the rest of his weight down on you, leaning up to the feeling of your fingers tug. “I love you, ‘love you so much..” 
You demand him to look at you with a tug of his black curls, a small line of blood staining your lips from the hard bite you gave. 
Rex obeyed with pleasure-drunken fervor, drawing the end of his high as he witnessed his blood in your mouth. 
A part of him would always be inside you.
Rex buried his head into your neck as he orgasmed, thrusting hard up against your leg like a rabbit during mating season. Letting out a continuation of unabashed moans, his teeth bit your T-shirt as cum spilled from his release. 
In the moment, Rex had sped up his movements in pleasuring you, digging beneath your underwear to feel the heat of your sex against his hand, leaving you quite dazed yourself, You managed to hid your reaction quite well as Rex was too focused to notice, but now that seemed to shift as he began to relax. 
Rex’s pulsing touch on your crotch slowled as his breathing regulated. Though it became more difficult for you to keep your mouth shut and your face straight as he repeatedly put his thumb against the right set of nerves. 
Your boyfriend’s breath steadied as he watched you release a hitched sigh from your mouth, enjoying the way you looked at him with a dazed glare. Covered in sweat and cum, he was beginning to come down from the high he ached to feel once again. 
“Oh…I’m sorry,” He panted, face flushed and glasses falling to the tip of his nose. “ Was s’pposed to be convincing you, but I got ahead of myself…”
Rex swallowed, adjusting his glasses with the tips of his finger. The male began to quickly fondle beneath your jeans once again, ignoring how you still pushed against the headboard and cried out in frustration. He was slow at first, trying to regain the rhythm; it didn’t take long for him to find that tempo that made your knees weak. 
You felt a numbed pleasure stir between your thighs against your will, trying to toss and turn to make it go away. 
But Rex held you still, planting his weight down on your chest and stroking your heat with skill. He had touched himself so many times to pictures and thoughts of you, but he never imagined this. Even as you scrunched up your face in frustration and annoyance, he saw your teeth scrape at your lip, your hips twitching and your groans drawing out longer than before. 
You desperately clawed at your restraints, avoiding Rex’s hot and heavy stare, of which was so entranced in watching your sweet face change every time a wave of pleasure overcame you. You felt so defeated in the fact that he could tell you were feeling the effects of his touch, how you weren’t completely focused on the idea of escape anymore. 
“M’gonna make you feel so good,” Rex grinned, hazed with the afterglow of his pleasureful release and soaking up the look of undesired arousal in your eyes. 
“Just promise not to give your pleasure, your pain, to anyone else…”
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yuurei20 · 13 days ago
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Lilia Facts Part 68: Lilia, Sebek and Silver (pt2)
Lilia says that, while he trained Silver, Sebek and Malleus, in Silver and Sebek’s case “it was pure physical rigor. I would make them swim through rapids, climb mountains so high the air grew thin…you name it, really.”
Lilia does not mention for how long he kept up this harsh training regime with the two children, but eventually he realized that it did not make sense to raise them in such a manner.
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He then adopted a “hands-off approach more akin to actual child-rearing,” giving them the freedom to play while watching over them from the shadows.
Sebek tells Jack the story of a time that he and Silver survived on an unfamiliar mountain for a week. While he does not specify how old they were at the time he does say “it was years ago,” and Sebek is 16 in-game, so he was potentially just barely a teenager at the time.
Sebek explains that Lilia took them to a mountain and, the moment they arrived, he vanished, leaving behind only the most basic of survival tools “..and a note that read, ‘I’ll be back for you in a week. Stay alive and have fun!’”
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When Jack comments that it seems to be “kinda careless” of Lilia Sebek insists that while Lilia never said so himself, he is certain that it provided them with the experience they needed to be able to handle unexpected situations: “Neither Silver nor I had any serious experience living outdoors at the time, so it was a tough week for both of us. When I went home afterward, my family was amazed. They said I had the look of a hardened veteran.”
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During the Stitch event Lilia says, “Surviving in harsh environments is basically a specialty of mine!,” but Jack and Riddle are incredulous.
We see examples of this during the event, with Lilia alone capable of sleeping in a mosquito-infested cave (“You can sleep through it as long as you've got the right mindset.”) and saying, “Rest to your fullest, then work to your fullest. That's the secret to successful survival!”
Lilia assures the reluctant Riddle and Jack that he is an authority on the subject and they agree to defer to his opinion. 
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mostlysignssomeportents · 7 months ago
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How to design a tech regulation
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TONIGHT (June 20) I'm live onstage in LOS ANGELES for a recording of the GO FACT YOURSELF podcast. TOMORROW (June 21) I'm doing an ONLINE READING for the LOCUS AWARDS at 16hPT. On SATURDAY (June 22) I'll be in OAKLAND, CA for a panel (13hPT) and a keynote (18hPT) at the LOCUS AWARDS.
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It's not your imagination: tech really is underregulated. There are plenty of avoidable harms that tech visits upon the world, and while some of these harms are mere negligence, others are self-serving, creating shareholder value and widespread public destruction.
Making good tech policy is hard, but not because "tech moves too fast for regulation to keep up with," nor because "lawmakers are clueless about tech." There are plenty of fast-moving areas that lawmakers manage to stay abreast of (think of the rapid, global adoption of masking and social distancing rules in mid-2020). Likewise we generally manage to make good policy in areas that require highly specific technical knowledge (that's why it's noteworthy and awful when, say, people sicken from badly treated tapwater, even though water safety, toxicology and microbiology are highly technical areas outside the background of most elected officials).
That doesn't mean that technical rigor is irrelevant to making good policy. Well-run "expert agencies" include skilled practitioners on their payrolls – think here of large technical staff at the FTC, or the UK Competition and Markets Authority's best-in-the-world Digital Markets Unit:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/13/kitbashed/#app-store-tax
The job of government experts isn't just to research the correct answers. Even more important is experts' role in evaluating conflicting claims from interested parties. When administrative agencies make new rules, they have to collect public comments and counter-comments. The best agencies also hold hearings, and the very best go on "listening tours" where they invite the broad public to weigh in (the FTC has done an awful lot of these during Lina Khan's tenure, to its benefit, and it shows):
https://www.ftc.gov/news-events/events/2022/04/ftc-justice-department-listening-forum-firsthand-effects-mergers-acquisitions-health-care
But when an industry dwindles to a handful of companies, the resulting cartel finds it easy to converge on a single talking point and to maintain strict message discipline. This means that the evidentiary record is starved for disconfirming evidence that would give the agencies contrasting perspectives and context for making good policy.
Tech industry shills have a favorite tactic: whenever there's any proposal that would erode the industry's profits, self-serving experts shout that the rule is technically impossible and deride the proposer as "clueless."
This tactic works so well because the proposers sometimes are clueless. Take Europe's on-again/off-again "chat control" proposal to mandate spyware on every digital device that will screen everything you upload for child sex abuse material (CSAM, better known as "child pornography"). This proposal is profoundly dangerous, as it will weaken end-to-end encryption, the key to all secure and private digital communication:
https://www.theguardian.com/technology/article/2024/jun/18/encryption-is-deeply-threatening-to-power-meredith-whittaker-of-messaging-app-signal
It's also an impossible-to-administer mess that incorrectly assumes that killing working encryption in the two mobile app stores run by the mobile duopoly will actually prevent bad actors from accessing private tools:
https://memex.craphound.com/2018/09/04/oh-for-fucks-sake-not-this-fucking-bullshit-again-cryptography-edition/
When technologists correctly point out the lack of rigor and catastrophic spillover effects from this kind of crackpot proposal, lawmakers stick their fingers in their ears and shout "NERD HARDER!"
https://memex.craphound.com/2018/01/12/nerd-harder-fbi-director-reiterates-faith-based-belief-in-working-crypto-that-he-can-break/
But this is only half the story. The other half is what happens when tech industry shills want to kill good policy proposals, which is the exact same thing that advocates say about bad ones. When lawmakers demand that tech companies respect our privacy rights – for example, by splitting social media or search off from commercial surveillance, the same people shout that this, too, is technologically impossible.
That's a lie, though. Facebook started out as the anti-surveillance alternative to Myspace. We know it's possible to operate Facebook without surveillance, because Facebook used to operate without surveillance:
https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=3247362
Likewise, Brin and Page's original Pagerank paper, which described Google's architecture, insisted that search was incompatible with surveillance advertising, and Google established itself as a non-spying search tool:
http://infolab.stanford.edu/pub/papers/google.pdf
Even weirder is what happens when there's a proposal to limit a tech company's power to invoke the government's powers to shut down competitors. Take Ethan Zuckerman's lawsuit to strip Facebook of the legal power to sue people who automate their browsers to uncheck the millions of boxes that Facebook requires you to click by hand in order to unfollow everyone:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/02/kaiju-v-kaiju/#cda-230-c-2-b
Facebook's apologists have lost their minds over this, insisting that no one can possibly understand the potential harms of taking away Facebook's legal right to decide how your browser works. They take the position that only Facebook can understand when it's safe and proportional to use Facebook in ways the company didn't explicitly design for, and that they should be able to ask the government to fine or even imprison people who fail to defer to Facebook's decisions about how its users configure their computers.
This is an incredibly convenient position, since it arrogates to Facebook the right to order the rest of us to use our computers in the ways that are most beneficial to its shareholders. But Facebook's apologists insist that they are not motivated by parochial concerns over the value of their stock portfolios; rather, they have objective, technical concerns, that no one except them is qualified to understand or comment on.
There's a great name for this: "scalesplaining." As in "well, actually the platforms are doing an amazing job, but you can't possibly understand that because you don't work for them." It's weird enough when scalesplaining is used to condemn sensible regulation of the platforms; it's even weirder when it's weaponized to defend a system of regulatory protection for the platforms against would-be competitors.
Just as there are no atheists in foxholes, there are no libertarians in government-protected monopolies. Somehow, scalesplaining can be used to condemn governments as incapable of making any tech regulations and to insist that regulations that protect tech monopolies are just perfect and shouldn't ever be weakened. Truly, it's impossible to get someone to understand something when the value of their employee stock options depends on them not understanding it.
None of this is to say that every tech regulation is a good one. Governments often propose bad tech regulations (like chat control), or ones that are technologically impossible (like Article 17 of the EU's 2019 Digital Single Markets Directive, which requires tech companies to detect and block copyright infringements in their users' uploads).
But the fact that scalesplainers use the same argument to criticize both good and bad regulations makes the waters very muddy indeed. Policymakers are rightfully suspicious when they hear "that's not technically possible" because they hear that both for technically impossible proposals and for proposals that scalesplainers just don't like.
After decades of regulations aimed at making platforms behave better, we're finally moving into a new era, where we just make the platforms less important. That is, rather than simply ordering Facebook to block harassment and other bad conduct by its users, laws like the EU's Digital Markets Act will order Facebook and other VLOPs (Very Large Online Platforms, my favorite EU-ism ever) to operate gateways so that users can move to rival services and still communicate with the people who stay behind.
Think of this like number portability, but for digital platforms. Just as you can switch phone companies and keep your number and hear from all the people you spoke to on your old plan, the DMA will make it possible for you to change online services but still exchange messages and data with all the people you're already in touch with.
I love this idea, because it finally grapples with the question we should have been asking all along: why do people stay on platforms where they face harassment and bullying? The answer is simple: because the people – customers, family members, communities – we connect with on the platform are so important to us that we'll tolerate almost anything to avoid losing contact with them:
https://locusmag.com/2023/01/commentary-cory-doctorow-social-quitting/
Platforms deliberately rig the game so that we take each other hostage, locking each other into their badly moderated cesspits by using the love we have for one another as a weapon against us. Interoperability – making platforms connect to each other – shatters those locks and frees the hostages:
https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2021/08/facebooks-secret-war-switching-costs
But there's another reason to love interoperability (making moderation less important) over rules that require platforms to stamp out bad behavior (making moderation better). Interop rules are much easier to administer than content moderation rules, and when it comes to regulation, administratability is everything.
The DMA isn't the EU's only new rule. They've also passed the Digital Services Act, which is a decidedly mixed bag. Among its provisions are a suite of rules requiring companies to monitor their users for harmful behavior and to intervene to block it. Whether or not you think platforms should do this, there's a much more important question: how can we enforce this rule?
Enforcing a rule requiring platforms to prevent harassment is very "fact intensive." First, we have to agree on a definition of "harassment." Then we have to figure out whether something one user did to another satisfies that definition. Finally, we have to determine whether the platform took reasonable steps to detect and prevent the harassment.
Each step of this is a huge lift, especially that last one, since to a first approximation, everyone who understands a given VLOP's server infrastructure is a partisan, scalesplaining engineer on the VLOP's payroll. By the time we find out whether the company broke the rule, years will have gone by, and millions more users will be in line to get justice for themselves.
So allowing users to leave is a much more practical step than making it so that they've got no reason to want to leave. Figuring out whether a platform will continue to forward your messages to and from the people you left there is a much simpler technical matter than agreeing on what harassment is, whether something is harassment by that definition, and whether the company was negligent in permitting harassment.
But as much as I like the DMA's interop rule, I think it is badly incomplete. Given that the tech industry is so concentrated, it's going to be very hard for us to define standard interop interfaces that don't end up advantaging the tech companies. Standards bodies are extremely easy for big industry players to capture:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/30/weak-institutions/
If tech giants refuse to offer access to their gateways to certain rivals because they seem "suspicious," it will be hard to tell whether the companies are just engaged in self-serving smears against a credible rival, or legitimately trying to protect their users from a predator trying to plug into their infrastructure. These fact-intensive questions are the enemy of speedy, responsive, effective policy administration.
But there's more than one way to attain interoperability. Interop doesn't have to come from mandates, interfaces designed and overseen by government agencies. There's a whole other form of interop that's far nimbler than mandates: adversarial interoperability:
https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/10/adversarial-interoperability
"Adversarial interoperability" is a catch-all term for all the guerrilla warfare tactics deployed in service to unilaterally changing a technology: reverse engineering, bots, scraping and so on. These tactics have a long and honorable history, but they have been slowly choked out of existence with a thicket of IP rights, like the IP rights that allow Facebook to shut down browser automation tools, which Ethan Zuckerman is suing to nullify:
https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/
Adversarial interop is very flexible. No matter what technological moves a company makes to interfere with interop, there's always a countermove the guerrilla fighter can make – tweak the scraper, decompile the new binary, change the bot's behavior. That's why tech companies use IP rights and courts, not firewall rules, to block adversarial interoperators.
At the same time, adversarial interop is unreliable. The solution that works today can break tomorrow if the company changes its back-end, and it will stay broken until the adversarial interoperator can respond.
But when companies are faced with the prospect of extended asymmetrical war against adversarial interop in the technological trenches, they often surrender. If companies can't sue adversarial interoperators out of existence, they often sue for peace instead. That's because high-tech guerrilla warfare presents unquantifiable risks and resource demands, and, as the scalesplainers never tire of telling us, this can create real operational problems for tech giants.
In other words, if Facebook can't shut down Ethan Zuckerman's browser automation tool in the courts, and if they're sincerely worried that a browser automation tool will uncheck its user interface buttons so quickly that it crashes the server, all it has to do is offer an official "unsubscribe all" button and no one will use Zuckerman's browser automation tool.
We don't have to choose between adversarial interop and interop mandates. The two are better together than they are apart. If companies building and operating DMA-compliant, mandatory gateways know that a failure to make them useful to rivals seeking to help users escape their authority is getting mired in endless hand-to-hand combat with trench-fighting adversarial interoperators, they'll have good reason to cooperate.
And if lawmakers charged with administering the DMA notice that companies are engaging in adversarial interop rather than using the official, reliable gateway they're overseeing, that's a good indicator that the official gateways aren't suitable.
It would be very on-brand for the EU to create the DMA and tell tech companies how they must operate, and for the USA to simply withdraw the state's protection from the Big Tech companies and let smaller companies try their luck at hacking new features into the big companies' servers without the government getting involved.
Indeed, we're seeing some of that today. Oregon just passed the first ever Right to Repair law banning "parts pairing" – basically a way of using IP law to make it illegal to reverse-engineer a device so you can fix it.
https://www.opb.org/article/2024/03/28/oregon-governor-kotek-signs-strong-tech-right-to-repair-bill/
Taken together, the two approaches – mandates and reverse engineering – are stronger than either on their own. Mandates are sturdy and reliable, but slow-moving. Adversarial interop is flexible and nimble, but unreliable. Put 'em together and you get a two-part epoxy, strong and flexible.
Governments can regulate well, with well-funded expert agencies and smart, adminstratable remedies. It's for that reason that the administrative state is under such sustained attack from the GOP and right-wing Dems. The illegitimate Supreme Court is on the verge of gutting expert agencies' power:
https://www.hklaw.com/en/insights/publications/2024/05/us-supreme-court-may-soon-discard-or-modify-chevron-deference
It's never been more important to craft regulations that go beyond mere good intentions and take account of adminsitratability. The easier we can make our rules to enforce, the less our beleaguered agencies will need to do to protect us from corporate predators.
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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/2024/06/20/scalesplaining/#administratability
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Image: Noah Wulf (modified) https://commons.m.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Thunderbirds_at_Attention_Next_to_Thunderbird_1_-_Aviation_Nation_2019.jpg
CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en
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mariacallous · 4 months ago
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Sudan’s rival generals have ignored warnings of mass starvation. In more than a year of brutal war, the two military factions have weaponized humanitarian aid.
Sudan’s de facto leader, military chief Abdel Fattah al-Burhan, has blocked aid into at least half of the country under the control of the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF) headed by Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo, known as Hemeti. Meanwhile, the RSF is obstructing trucks into places held by the Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF). Local volunteers running soup kitchens have been targeted and killed by the RSF, particularly in Khartoum, Sudanese aid workers told FP.
The conflict has created the world’s largest hunger and internal displacement crises. The fighting has pushed 25 million people, more than half the nation’s population, into acute hunger and forced about 11 million people to flee their homes, including 2.3 million who fled abroad. More than two million Sudanese could die by the end of this year, aid agencies warn.
In areas where there is food available, extortion and attacks on traders at checkpoints have raised prices. Women have recounted having sex with SAF soldiers in exchange for food. Reports of torture, rape, the use of children under 15 in the fighting, and ethnic-based massacres by the RSF and armed militias have surged over the past year.
“People are dying of hunger in the capital,” said Mathilde Vu, the Norwegian Refugee Council’s advocacy advisor in Sudan. “We are looking at the risk of starvation being used as a weapon of war. … This needs to be monitored. The policymakers already have a tool for that. The U.N. Security Council resolution about conflict and hunger, and what they need to put in place is a monitoring of that.”
Both sides in Sudan’s nearly 17-month civil war have committed “harrowing” abuses that may amount to war crimes, a U.N.-mandated mission reported on Friday, calling for a countrywide arms embargo. Sudan’s military government rejected a proposal by U.N. experts to deploy a peacekeeping force to protect civilians.
Compounding the situation, the humanitarian response is critically underfunded. A $2.7 billion U.N. appeal has been just 32 percent funded. Much of that funding has come from the United States. However, aid agencies say local volunteers on the ground need to be better supported since a cease-fire is highly unlikely in the immediate future.
Famine was declared in Zamzam camp housing about 500,000 displaced people near the besieged city of El Fasher, the state capital of North Darfur—areas where the RSF is blocking aid trucks. There’s a realistic chance of famine in 16 other areas, Vu said, but precise figures are hard to confirm. Last month, the SAF agreed to open the Adré border crossing from landlocked Chad into Sudan, for a period of three months. But international aid agencies told FP that the SAF has made things difficult through lengthy authorizations ensuring only a trickle of shipments gets in.
U.S. envoy for Sudan Tom Perriello visited Saudi Arabia, Egypt, and Turkey this week in the latest attempt by the Biden administration to expand humanitarian access in Sudan, following failed peace talks in Geneva. The conflict risks turning into a forever war, in which various external actors seize the opportunity to extend their influence. Turkey, Egypt, the United Arab Emirates (UAE), and Russia have been accused of arming warring parties.
While such negotiations are essential, U.S. attention and pressure should also focus on other regional powers with a vested interest in the conflict such as Eritrea and Ethiopia. Foreign mercenaries from Chad, Mali, Niger, the Central African Republic, and Libya are believed to be fighting in Sudan.
Pressuring regional powers could engage local armed militias allied to the warring parties in ultimately ensuring access to places like El Fasher. “It will create more of a buffer than two guys signing an agreement in Jeddah” and then breaking it, Vu said. “You cannot bypass the regional powers. … They really are the ones who have the leverage. It’s very important that Western powers engage them so that they have a constructive role in this crisis rather than a harmful one,” she added. Even if Burhan and Hemeti signed a peace deal, many of the local armed groups involved would likely not abide by it.
Both generals have held meetings with several African leaders, while the African Union has been largely absent in peace negotiations. More recently, Burhan held meetings with Eritrea’s president, Isaias Afwerki, and Ethiopia’s prime minister, Abiy Ahmed, at the China-Africa summit.
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aixeko · 13 days ago
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──────⏯ A WORK OF ART [ ▸ ]
MAIN MASTERLIST ➤ HSR MASTERLIST
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🎨 “ I'LL FIGHT FOR CONTROL BUT THE "RIGHT WAY" TAKES A TOLL AND STILL AT THE END OF IT ALL I CAN'T ESCAPE MY FATE THE WRITING'S ON THE WALL. “ .𖥔 ݁ ˖
| Starring | Famous Violinist!Kafka x [ Child prodigy, failed adult ] Artist!Reader 
| Setting | Modern AU
| Scenario | [ SHORT FIC ] ANGST! Hurt/comfort. Mental Breakdown. Unhealthy mindset. Artist’s struggles. Low self esteem. Identity crisis. Established relationship. Kafka & reader is engaged. Rushed ending… NOT PROOFREAD.
► RADIO CHANNEL [Author note]
× My first Kafka fic on here, wow. Happy holly jolly christmas <3 ×Something about this triggered the 5 stages of grief in me so hard. I hate this fic with my entire soul, it’s so badly written I’m sorry. Especially at the end, It’s so disappointing. Sorry... × Anyway, I highly recommend listening to the duet version between Kaveh and Haitham of Writing on the Wall ! It captures the feels of this fic greatly.
[ Word count: 2721 ] Sources: Love and Deep space, Kafka cosplay, and real life images found on pinterest.
🎻 "I'll come save your soul as your "Right way" takes a toll and then at the end of it all I will rewrite your fate as writing on the wall." ✮⋆˙
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With every stroke that strikes the hauntingly pale canvas, the aching prominent in your shoulder seems to grow as if roaring waves taking the form of liquid paint have crashed upon you without a moment's notice. The weight of each stroke takes its toll on you, accumulating like the darkening of the heavens and gathering of clouds before their fierce rage captures its victims in ominousness and instability.
In such a suffocating atmosphere, time felt like nothing more than a worthless nuisance, with its worth only to disturb the bothered and the unbothered. Has the star that this miserable home orbits already fallen prey to slumber, or has its opposite already shrouded the sky in its woefulness? How many times has the Earth already taken its rest while you fought your fatigue under the guise of devotion to one's art? How often have you endeavored to bring forth a masterpiece from a hand marred by mistakes and a mind colored with imperfections? How much longer can your heart allow you to continue this disgraceful creation you would dare call "art"?
Without any hindrance to your movement, another imperfect splash of color daubs the canvas.
Sweat that has amassed begins to feel like the submersion of the ocean itself, followed by the rise and fall of rapid breathing, a frantic attempt to hold a semblance of living in this polluted air brought about by your own destruction.
Your eyes bore into the incoherent carnage of colors. Trembling.
A genius is what you were; a fallen genius is what you are. A desperate soul scouring every inch of one's own being in search of that familiar sensation of flowing fluency, of inspiration, and of motivation. Only to find nothing more than broken pieces.
Without your consciousness's consent, the fuming flame that begs to be unleashed took over, and the hairs of your brush crashed onto the canvas. It takes a while before your lidded eyes glisten, before snapping open at the realization of your misstep. You shake your head nonstop, lips quivering at the distasteful spectacle before your eyes, a sight that nearly has you falling from your high stool.
Calm down, calm down, calm down, calm down, calm down! CALM DOWN!
You repeatedly try to tell yourself, your vision blurring again at the wetness of anguish that weighs on unfulfilled dreams stemming from swollen, red eyes. The strength of your grip tightens around the same tool meant to aid you, a tool that was never meant to destroy you, a tool you now feel immense shame to even have the rightfulness of holding. 
NO.
Your mind is fooling you with lies of deception; yes, that's what it is; that's what it is called: lies, lies, lies. You're still the same prodigy you always were and have been.
This brush is still yours to bear; this brush is still your territory, your invincible sovereignty where no others can take it away from you. For the first time in months, your eyes wander to something beyond the impending doom of your ambition.
You mustn't give up now, no, not yet, not now, not ever, not until your heart ceases to beat and your body turns to ashes of the past. Fame or attention, it doesn't matter; you must, you HAVE to see this through to the end, the day of its completion, the day when it will bask in its infinite glory. No matter the cost, you will... or else—what was the point of all those praises?
They can't be mere meaningless praises of pity toward an innocent, simple-minded child, right? You're still the little prodigy your mother and father had proudly proclaimed all those years ago, right?
Right...?
The shuddering grip on the brush and the unbalanced posture reveal a narrative diverging from reality, a tale where truth has been distorted into a mere blemish on a meticulously crafted illusion. A revelation that you may be able to lie to yourself and others, but one that you cannot lie to your body and soul.
You knew; you always have. You may have had the passion and talent, but you long ago lost one, holding tightly to another, and believing you still have both under your control.
You weren't the same talented child that so many adored anymore, but you were still the same child who continued to be a pathological people-pleaser who only wanted the acknowledgment of others.
In the end, fame and attention do matter because they define the very reasons for your identity and the continuation of your undesirable life.
You are fully aware of this fact, yet you cannot seem to stop yourself. A true artist would weave their personal tragedy and fabricate it into a timeless masterpiece. Yet, you have never pondered one important detail.
What becomes of an artist when their brush is meek, their mind lost in the abyss, with no visions to seek? When their passion has already lost its spark to ignite, and sorrow lingers on, untouched and cold?
It was already nighttime; the moon was at its fullest, yet you don’t have the will to care anymore, lost in the darkness of your thoughts. You don’t indulge in the tiredness, the empty pit in your stomach, or the concentrated primal desire to finally let loose of your entire being. A tempting, melodious voice murmurs in the back of your mind, consuming the entirety of your senses, an offer to travel to the lowest part of the earth, where even the greatest of scientists have yet to discover the fullest extent of it. The watery depth that is known as the abyss, the ocean in which silence can devour you whole. Devoid of a singular worry, devoid of the guilt of being pathetically idiotic in the field where you should have been unsurpassable, devoid of having to live with the fact that you will never be enough no matter the effort you have invested in. Because in the end, puppeteered by fate's hands, those who are blessed by beings of greater power will always succeed over the untalented.
You tilt your head upward, and immediately that nauseating feeling runs its course all over your body. The moonlight emitting through the clear paneglass window mocks you for your misery, taunting you with the art piece that you have embarrassingly spent months on, only to end up with nothing more than a disfigured, incoherent shot of colors. You bite your lip for what seems to be the hundredth time, your swollen eyes streaming enough tears to cover an entire river.
What would everyone think of me? My audience? My mother? My father? You stare up blankly at the ceiling, unable to bear looking at your own creation, a reflection of your inner chaos. What would they all think of me? You wish to never see it again. A heaviness settles in your chest, and you wish to rid yourself of it all, to vanish into nothingness. Your body slumps, silence wrapping around you, thick and suffocating, leaving only shadows of questions echoing in the stillness where time has lost its meaning. What would you think of me—Kafka?
Your grip around your brush loosens, and eventually, your hands relax. You hear the brush drop to the floor alongside the mess of equipment, but its sound registers as nothing more than muffled background noise.
Your eyes surrender to the painful longing to rest, whether involuntarily or voluntarily; you do not know. Slowly, your body begins to yield. You lean back slightly, feeling the world tilting along with you in slow motion like a steady dance with gravity. You're falling, you realize. To say you care would be another lie because you don't. Rather, the eventual fall feels surreal and oddly comforting, like you're drifting into a gentle dream, and the cold floor is like that of a comforting bed that you slump into after a long-awaited day of hard work.
Time stretches, and the world dims, leaving only the sound of your heartbeat pounding in your ears and the arrival of the wooden floor, a final act of surrender as you wait for impact.
If I fall, art will perish with me.
If I don't...
You wait and wait and wait, but the feeling of the harsh wooden floor never comes into contact with your head. Instead, all you could feel were those calloused, ever-so-cautious, indistinguishable hands. You need no vision to identify whose hands those belong to; their touch alone speaks volumes. Those were the hands of a person who has spent a lifetime honing their ability to the utmost, practicing every day with precision and care. The hands of a talented, hardworking genius, someone that you believe you were.
"You're home early." You let out a voice barely above a whisper and drained of a will to live.
"I'm afraid I'm late."
Her usual sultry and dragged-out voice has significantly softened to quiet murmurs only meant for the comfort of your ears. There's an intimacy in her tone as if every whisper is a precious secret she's reluctant to reveal to the world.
You let out an 'Mn' sound, acknowledging her words before you open your teary eyes. Kafka remains silent, her expression unreadable as she observes your evident misery and the wrecked, enormous portrait that she perceives as a reflection of herself, waiting patiently for you to break the silence. Her eyes, filled with equal concern and curiosity.
A deep, shaky exhale escapes you. You sit up before bending forward with your clasped hands pressed tightly against your head and your arms on your thighs. "Kafka," another heavy exhale releases. "Why... tell me, why do we choose to create?"
You hear a slight hesitation in her step; then you feel her hand gently resting on top of your head, the warmth of her touch seeping through, and another hand on your shoulder, grounding you in her presence.
"Because it is the only thing that fate cannot define."
That fate cannot define? You jumped out of your seat, knocking the stool to the ground and catching Kafka off guard, even more so when you hauled her by the collar.
"That's bold coming from you," you pull her closer, "A genius like you wouldn't know how hard it is to struggle to create, especially considering the human desire is to CREATE. You will never KNOW the struggle to have passion but never the talent to make something that isn't nauseating to look at." Kafka's lips part to speak, but in the midst of the storm that has clouded your sight, the world is all but utter darkness to you, and she is the one exception on whom you can vent your frustration.
"People are CHOSEN by FATE; they are CHOSEN, not MADE, not LEARNED. THEY ARE CHOSEN. KAFKA."
"Music is to the soul what words are to the mind, and art is no different; it is a language without words."
Kafka's left fingers traced your collarbone to your jawline, tilting your head slightly until she rested her hand on your cheek, gently wiping away the streaming tears.
"Would you call a genius who spent countless hours and years cultivating their skills until their hands are imprinted with their experience an act of fate, a chosen one?"
"I—"
"You wouldn't." Kafka leans towards you to kiss away the tears of the untouched side. "What a silly question, isn't it? Why do we create? There is no definite answer, and that's what makes art, art."
"Art is a reflection of an artist's truest form of emotion, a way of communication away from the eyes of the world; is it not?"
It is. You admit it mentally, but that reason does not define you; no, the opposite is really, but ashamed to admit it to your fiancée, you turn away from her gaze to save what little dignity you have left.
If I fall... I will give up on art.
Kafka sighed; she let go of her hold and walked past you. Your fists clenched, and you bit your bottom lip until the flesh of it was pierced through until blood was the only thing you could taste, and loud, discordant noise was all you could hear. Your heart was pounding, and it was dropping. Did you just lose the one soul that you have found comfort in? Did you really just lose the one fucking thing that remained a constant in your life? Are you this much of an imbecile?
If I don't... I will continue.
"You look like a lost puppy," Kafka trailed a small streak of red paint on your cheek. "That said, I prefer to see my puppy smiling."
You blink, and for the first time since her arrival, clarity cuts through the haze of your own downpour, revealing your fiancée, your wife, your lover—the woman who has not just stolen but nurtured your heart.
"Was it not you who told me all those years ago that I should stop obsessing over every little detail when I was a naïve teenager?" Kafka sighed dreamily, her smile reaching her eyes and that tender gaze boring mesmerizingly into yours. In this moment, this woman, this woman who presents herself in such a devilish presence, now looks like God's most beautiful creation, an angel who has descended from heaven.
Your lips part, wanting to say something, but those words get lost in your throat as you drag yourself across the floor, hands reaching out to embrace her tightly.
This time for myself.
"...Why couldn't I be a genius? Why couldn't I be born with natural talents?"
"Shh, my love, let your mind rest and focus on the sound of my heartbeat."
As you stand there, the world outside fades into background noises, and her heartbeat is the only melody in which you allow yourself to indulge. Her thumb rubs the painted streak on your cheek, and you lean into her touch, feeling the frustration of before melt away.
"I should have been here for you; a month away from you is a grave regret." Kafka pressed her lips against your head. "You are enough just as you are, and I am here now to prove it to you."
Your eyes grew heavier and heavier until, in the peace of her presence and the warmth of her love, you felt a sense of tranquility wash over you, guiding you into a much-needed, peaceful slumber.
"Ludwig van Beethoven once stated that the true artist is not proud; he unfortunately sees that art has no limits. He feels darkly how far he is from the goal, and though he may be admired by others, he is sad not to have reached that point to which his better genius appears only as a distant guiding sun."
"Then I guess... I'll just have to work until you can't tell the difference between me and a genius."
"Kafka, art is a reflection of an artist's truest form of emotion; it is a way of communicating away from the eyes of the world, a language of the soul. If you practice too much, you will eventually lose your passion. What is art without emotions? What is art without a reason?"
"Are you saying I will never be able to reach their level?"
"There's no such thing as a ranking when it comes to the human desire to create; art is subjective, and so is the beauty of it. Being able to produce any form of art is still art, and no matter the nonsensical opinions of others, it is only you who deserves to make a judgment."
Kafka runs her hand through your hair, feeling the soft strands slip through her fingers as she observes your peacefully resting form.
"A struggle of artistic ideals, an impossibly fast pace of flowing ideas that disappear just as fast as their appearance, and a perfectionistic reality in which the succession of manifestations is humanly impossible."
She chuckled softly, shaking her head. "It's a shame you have fallen prey to it as well," Smoothly, she picked you up, cradling you protectively in her arms, where no harm can be done to you anymore.
"No matter," she continued, her voice a soothing lullaby to your ears. "Just as you once did for me in the past, I will come save your soul."
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skyward-floored · 22 days ago
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Downfall iau, more of Twi's escape. I've got another fic finishing up what's going on with him, but the transition felt weird, so consider this part one (or two? since there already was a part... hm. well anyway).
This is Wild's pov just for reference, since he just refers to himself as Link.
(The bit before this)
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Link had no idea what he’d been thinking.
Actually, no, he knew the answer to that— he hadn’t been thinking. At all.
He’d seen a super run towards him and Zelda in those dull-colored sleep clothes everyone had, looking terrified and harried with his hands cuffed in front of him, and while Link’s first response had been to cover Zelda (of course), he’d looked into terrified blue-grey eyes that were panicked and obviously in pain, and his second response...
Had been to tug the super into an empty office as quickly as possible, and then help Zelda lie to the authorities as to where he’d gone.
And he was now helping said-super remain standing while Zelda tried to pick the lock of her father’s office.
I must be crazy.
“Almost got it,” Zelda murmured, her tongue sticking out a bit as she worked. “It figures today is the one time he doesn’t forget to lock his door.”
“That... happen a lot?” Twilight rasped, and Zelda shrugged.
“You’d be surprised,” she said, and Twilight hummed weakly in response. A twitch ran through him moments later, one he tried to hide, but Link was still holding him up and felt it plain as day.
Concern ran through him; he didn’t know how often Twilight was shocked on a daily basis, but even the people most used to it couldn’t handle several in rapid succession. And Twilight had been shocked once on the way here and at least twice before that.
Link didn’t know how much more he could take.
“Got it!” Zelda finally whispered with a triumphant smile, and Link wasted no time in pulling her and Twilight inside and immediately re-locking the door.
It was a nice office, if a bit stuffy. Zelda’s father didn’t spend much time here so it was neater than other spaces he occupied, which Link at least was grateful for. There was less to disturb, which meant less evidence they’d ever been in here.
Link pulled Twilight over to a chair while Zelda gathered her tools, Twilight sinking onto the cushion with a groan of relief. He was still tense, likely expecting another shock, but he looked better once he was sitting at least.
“Okay, this shouldn’t take long,” Zelda reassured, crouching at Twilight’s side. “I’ve disabled these before. Just let me know if you think another shock is about to go out, it could be bad depending on where I am in the process.”
Twilight nodded, and Zelda got to work.
Link stayed standing while Zelda worked, his hand kept near his weapon. The door may have been locked, but he still kept his gaze on it in anticipation of any threat, government or otherwise. At least they were safe from security cameras in here.
Link’s eyes went wide at the thought, and ice slipped into his stomach. The hallway they’d been traveling through mere minutes ago was filled with cameras. It was only a matter of time before someone checked them and saw him and Zelda helping Twilight.
Which would lead to Twilight being found, an eventual “accident” involving Zelda, Link would be arrested, or worse—
“Something wrong?” Twilight asked, voice raspy.
Link swallowed. “Security cameras. The hall outside is teeming with them.”
Somehow Twilight got paler. “That means they probably know where we are.”
“If not now then soon,” Link replied grimly. I can’t believe I forgot about the cameras, way to remember your training—
“I might be able to erase the feeds for the past hour or two,” Zelda spoke up, chewing nervously on her lip as she worked. “But it’ll still be sketchy, and if somebody already saw them...”
“You two should go,” Twilight whispered, looking terrible. “If you’re seen helping me then—”
“Not until I’m done,” Zelda said firmly, pulling something out of twilight’s band and setting it aside. “We still have some time. We can wait.”
Twilight went silent, and Link went back to watching the door, small clicks and fiddling sounds coming from Zelda’s hands. Link began plotting a route towards the control room in his head, going over what he knew of the security and how best to bypass it in a nondescript manner. Zelda’s status might help with that, but it would be too suspicious to bring her down there before they erased the footage. He could go alone and just race past mostly everything, but he didn’t know nearly as much about technology as Zelda did.
Maybe she could stay back and radio him the instructions... yes, that should work. He’d run fast enough that the cameras wouldn’t pick him up, and she could instruct him from somewhere safe. The shift would change soon, that would be the best time to plan their move.
Link inwardly sighed. This really hadn’t been what he’d been expecting to do when he’d woken up this morning.
Twilight suddenly stiffened behind him, and Link turned towards him. “Shock coming.”
Zelda’s eyes went wide and she rapidly finished screwing with something on Twilight’s wrist, her fingers flying. The band sparked to life, and Zelda jerked backwards with a small gasp of pain, clutching her hand. Electricity raced through Twilight yet again, and his back arched as he let out a cry, falling from his chair.
He convulsed violently on the floor, and after quickly making sure Zelda was okay, Link dropped to a knee beside him, knowing he couldn’t touch him yet, but preparing for when he could. Twilight screamed again, electricity shooting through him, and bile rose in Link’s throat at the blatant cruelty on display.
This was what they were trying to stop.
Twilight abruptly fell limp, twitching just a little, and Link put a hand on his arm, steadying him while he took his pulse again.
The beat felt erratic, and Link thought he felt it skip a beat, though he couldn’t be sure. Twilight whimpered, sweat on his brow, and Zelda hurriedly knelt beside him, taking Twilight’s wrist again and worked on finishing what she’d been in the middle of. Her face was white as she clutched her tools, and Link was beyond grateful she’d disabled the shocking mechanism in his own band ages ago.
“Surely he’s reached the limit by now,” Zelda whispered, Twilight’s breath softly wheezing. “I thought three was the max for one day.”
“It’s only a guideline. Technically there isn’t one,” Link murmured back, still feeling Twilight’s pulse. He’d passed out, but his pulse seemed a little stronger. “You might get a reprimand for doing it more, but nobody really cares.“
Zelda’s mouth pressed into a thin line, and she focused even more intently on her work, conversation silenced. The only sound was of Twilight’s rasps, and Link stayed close to his side, studying him a little.
Twilight looked about average height, which meant he was taller than Link was. He seemed like he would normally be quite a force to be reckoned with, muscled and broad-shouldered, and despite how pathetic he looked at the moment, Link could tell he’d be a tough fight. He wondered briefly how old he was, then realized he’d been not paying as much attention to the door, and fixed his gaze back on the handle.
He needed to focus. Things were getting tricky, and he didn’t have time to be distracted if he was going to keep everyone safe.
Twilight’s breath had settled closer to normal, and his eyes had reopened when Zelda finally exclaimed in victory, replacing the tiny panel she’d pulled up with a smile.
“There. I disabled the shocking mechanism. It shouldn’t be a problem anymore,” she explained happily, and Twilight closed his eyes again, letting out a wobbly sigh of relief.
“Thank you. Thank you so much,” he breathed, swallowing, and then taking in a deeper breath. He began to carefully sit himself up, and Zelda steadied him when he grimaced, but he made it up, and leaned against the desk behind him with a conflicted look. “I... you two should really get going. I don’t... want either of you to end up in my position.”
“I agree,” Link said, and tilted his head towards the door. “We need to move fast if we’re going to have any chance of keeping this a secret.”
Zelda sighed. “You’re right, as always. You should be able to rest here for a little longer,” she directed at Twilight, but he shook his head, gritting his teeth as he tried to stand on his shaking legs.
“I need to get moving... people will be coming in for work soon.”
Zelda sighed, but nodded again, and she extended her hand towards Twilight’s as he managed to get himself upright.
“I’m sorry we can’t help you more,” Zelda apologized, and Twilight took her hand and clasped it.
“You’ve done plenty. I can’t... thank you enough,” he said, eyes shining with gratitude. “Though... I have one small favor to ask.”
“Yes?”
Twilight swallowed. “The arrest order went... out for my whole family. I don’t doubt that they had enough time to get away, but if they didn’t... could you give them a message from me? O-only if you see them.”
“Of course,” Zelda reassured, and Link nodded.
“Okay. Well... Infrared and Malanya are my brother and mom,” Twilight said quietly. Link twitched an ear at the familiar names. “If you see them, just... tell them the beast is still divine. They might have two kids with them too, blond, fairly young. Go by Wind and Four. They won’t understand, but they can pass it on.”
“The beast is still divine, got it,” Zelda nodded. “We’ll pass it on if we can.”
Twilight smiled at them, still trembling, sweaty and pale and barely standing, but determined. “Thank you again. I owe you two.”
“You don’t owe us anything,” Zelda assured as she packed up her tools, giving him a small curtsy.
“Just get yourself out of here,” Link added quietly, and Twilight nodded, taking a wobbling step forward so he could shake Link’s hand.
Link shook it back, and Twilight smiled at him, and even though the edges were strained and Twilight looked a bit like death walking, it was a nice smile. Link briefly wondered if they were friends now.
“Nearest exit is up the hallway and to the left, it’s after you pass this especially big poster on the wall. It should be easy to find,” Zelda said, and Twilight nodded.
“Up the hall, to the left, after the big poster. Got it. ...Good luck with the cameras,” he said quietly, and Zelda nodded.
“Good luck to you too. I hope you make it somewhere safe,” she said worriedly, and Twilight smiled, and nodded in return.
Link checked the time on his band, then quickly explained his idea to Zelda while she helped Twilight to the door. This goodbye was taking much too long. Twilight would be okay. He was certain of it.
Zelda agreed to his idea as he quickly laid it out, though she was worried what would happen if he got caught. Link waved away her concerns, reminding her they didn’t have time for a better plan, and she agreed with a sigh.
“You’d better not get caught,” she said with a huff, though Link could hear the worry in her voice. “Either of you.”
“I’ll be fine,” Link said at the same time as Twilight, and they exchanged somewhat bemused looks.
Zelda cracked a worried smile. “Prove me right, then.”
They didn’t speak any more, Link turning one way down the hall while Twilight went the other. Link looked back at him before he ran off, the other hero leaning on the wall for support, his steps determined despite how they shook, and sent up a quick prayer to whoever was listening that he would make it.
Then he raced off down the hall, making a beeline for the computer control room.
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covid-safer-hotties · 5 months ago
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Drs. Ziyad Al-Aly, Akiko Iwasaki and Eric Topol, along with other acclaimed researchers, have issued a position statement on Long COVID published yesterday in the journal Nature Medicine. This document provides a much-needed perspective on the continued dangers posed by the “forever COVID” policy enshrined in official public health policies.
This important review comes on the heels of the recent publication in the New England Journal of Medicine (NEJM) of a reference frame for the chronic disease. It was developed by the National Academies of Sciences, Engineering, and Medicine (NASEM) Committee on Examining the Working Definition for Long COVID.
The 2024 NASEM Long COVID definition is: “Long COVID is an infection-associated chronic condition that occurs after SARS-CoV-2 infection and is present for at least 3 months as a continuous, relapsing and remitting, or progressive disease state that affects one or more organ systems.”
Most importantly, previous documentation of a COVID infection is not required for the diagnosis. The NASEM report explains: “By now, most persons worldwide have had at least one episode of acute SARS-CoV-2 infection. A requirement for proof of diagnosis could wrongly exclude many patients …”
This closer approximation to a scientific definition of long COVID is an important step towards educating the public and issuing a call for action to address the viral assault on the global population.
The authors of the study, published in Nature Medicine, should be commended for giving urgency to an issue that Dr. Al-Aly has rightly called “the elephant in the room.” Yet as sincere as these appeals may be to take Long COVID seriously, they will not convince the bourgeois authorities who have already dismissed warnings about the acute stage of COVID-19.
The complex multisystem disorder that can affect nearly every organ system after a COVID infection spares no one across the age spectrum. It appears that even fetuses in utero are at increased risk of respiratory ailments if the mother was infected during pregnancy.
Considering our rapidly developing comprehension of the long-term health consequences of COVID, thanks to the exemplary work being done by these scientists, the policy of mass infection demanded by the financial oligarchy assumes an even more sinister and deranged character.
The “cardinal” symptoms of Long COVID include brain fog and memory changes, fatigue, rapid sudden onset of heart rate, significant sleep disturbances, and immense sense of discomfort and illness after exerting oneself. There are no cures and, worse, no diagnostic tools that can tell someone they have Long COVID. Only recently have healthcare workers and researchers begun to identify treatments for Long COVID, but there is an absence of randomized trials to guide these decisions.
The authors note, “Care for people with Long COVID varies widely across settings and practitioners. It is often challenged by lack of widespread recognition and understanding of Long COVID among medical professionals, constrained resources and competing demands on healthcare systems still recovering from the shock of the pandemic, lack of standardized care pathways, lack of definitive diagnostic and treatment tools, and a general pervasive pandemic fatigue with an urge to ‘move on.’” The last point is a byproduct of the impact of forcing the population to accept COVID as a permanent fixture of society.
On top of the horrific impact it has on an individual person, on a social scale, mass Long COVID leads to loss of productivity, disruption in the workplace and increased risk of occupational-related injury or fatalities. Cognitive impairment, even after mild infections, is common, and there can be dire consequences for workers in occupations where the slightest error or inattention can be devastating: truck drivers, electricians, airline pilots, first responders and more. To say nothing of the impact on the wider community.
The report makes reference to the 2022 US Brookings Institute estimates on the figure of 2 million to 4 million US adults who were out of work because of Long COVID. Add to this the Minneapolis US Federal Reserve Bank report from July 2022, finding that people with Long COVID had a 10 percent poorer chance of being employed, and when they were, worked 25 to 50 percent less than uninfected individuals.
On a global scale, the authors wrote, “On the basis of all the available data, a conservative estimate of the annual global economic toll of Long COVID could be around $1 trillion, amounting to 1% of the 2024 global GDP.” Other estimates are even higher: An economic study from 2022 placed the cost of Long COVID at $3.7 trillion, or $11,000 per capita for the US alone, amounting to 17 percent of the gross domestic product (GDP).
Most compelling in the Al-Aly et al. review was their assessment of the global cumulative incidence of Long COVID, which until now had been opaque.
Basing their estimates on meta-regression studies that pooled all the available evidence, they estimated that figure for the first four years of the pandemic at 409 million cases of Long COVID. The authors remarked, “It is crucial to emphasize that these estimates only represent cases arising from symptomatic infections and are likely to be conservative. The actual incidence of Long COVID, including cases from asymptomatic infections or those with a broader range of symptoms, is expected to be higher.”
By comparison, among the most common ailments afflicting the world’s population, heart and circulatory issues, affect around 620 million. This means that in only four years, Long COVID, as a disease, has risen nearly to the top of the global list. Furthermore, Long COVID, as a multi-organ disease process, will only exacerbate noncommunicable and communicable diseases that arise in the future.
Placing these figures into context, this week, based on wastewater data, infection modelers estimate that COVID infections have once again climbed above 1 million cases per day, a staggering figure, to which the CDC is completely indifferent. COVID modeler Dr. Mike Hoerger of the Pandemic Mitigation Collaborative, in a social media discussion with this writer, said that presently, on average, every American has been infected between three or four times.
In a rare show of concern, the World Health Organization (WHO) announced that COVID-19 was spreading across the globe, with positivity rates in Europe above 20 percent. In opening their August 6, 2024, news report on COVID, they warned, “The UN health agency is also concerned that more severe variants of the coronavirus may soon be on the horizon.”
The European continent is swimming in a river of infection, like the unfortunate Olympic athletes sickened by swimming in the polluted Seine. And as we have already noted, the Olympics themselves have been a superspreader event.
Knowing that reinfections, more severe disease, and remaining unvaccinated, all raise the risk of Long COVID, one can only watch the current wave of infections with alarm. These will be given further fuel as schools and universities begin to open their doors later this month. Furthermore, global COVID vaccinations have essentially come to a halt. Long COVID is the long tail of the ongoing pandemic that has no end.
Unique in the report by Dr. Al-Aly and colleagues is the raising of social issues affecting the global impact of Long COVID. In support of the UN Foundation’s Sustainable Development Goals (SDG), they raise the need to end poverty and hunger, improve access to health, provide quality education, improve working conditions and reduce inequalities. They also call for funding to support coordinated interdisciplinary research on Long COVID on a global footing.
The recognition of the social issues that need to be addressed is an important insight. However, the appeal to existing public health institutions and political processes to heed their warnings will not bear any fruit.
First and foremost, the “forever COVID” policy is not a misguided public health construct. It is a calculated and coordinated approach to ensure pandemic threats would not impede the unfettered accumulation of surplus value off the backs of the working class. If the sick and infirm fall by the wayside, these social losses are seen as financial gains by the class that seeks to extract from the working class every minute of their potential labor power and avoid the cost of their “lingering on.”
In this regard, Senator Bernie Sanders’ introduction of legislation titled the “Long COVID Research Moonshot Act of 2024” is simply political theater, aimed at deluding the public into thinking that the capitalist system is capable of reform. The bill would provide a paltry $1 billion in mandatory funding per year for 10 years to the National Institutes of Health (NIH) to support Long COVID research.
To think this legislation will see the light of day while social spending is being slashed to fund the forever wars is to look at the world through very thick rose-colored glasses. Those researchers and public health advocates who wish to promote the application of the scientific principles that guide their own work must recognize the necessity for a broader social perspective.
To address Long COVID, as the world Trotskyist movement has demanded, one must begin by eliminating COVID across the world. Despite the dismissal of such a perspective by capitalist governments and the corporate media, zero COVID is and remains the only viable solution.
Only one social class is capable of taking up and fighting for such a policy: the international working class. The fight against COVID and future pandemics, like the looming H5N1, must be integrated into the revolutionary mobilization of the working class against the capitalist system and the establishment of a socialist society, in which human needs, including the most basic concerns of healthy life, will be the basis of social policy, not private profit.
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commlabindia · 2 years ago
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spacetimewithstuartgary · 4 months ago
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Origin of supermassive black hole Sagittarius A*
The origins of aptly named supermassive black holes – which can weigh in at more than a million times the mass of the sun and reside in the center of most galaxies – remain one of the great mysteries of the cosmos. 
Now, researchers from the Nevada Center for Astrophysics at UNLV (NCfA) have discovered compelling evidence suggesting that the supermassive black hole at the center of our Milky Way galaxy, known as Sagittarius A* (Sgr A*), is likely the result of a past cosmic merger. 
The study, published Sept. 6 in the journal Nature Astronomy, builds on recent observations from the Event Horizon Telescope (EHT), which captured the first direct image of Sgr A* in 2022. The EHT, the result of a global research collaboration, syncs data from eight existing radio observatories worldwide to create a massive, Earth-sized virtual telescope. 
UNLV astrophysicists Yihan Wang and Bing Zhang utilized the data from the EHT observation of Sgr A* to look for evidence on how it may have formed. Supermassive black holes are thought to grow either by the accretion of matter over time, or by the merger of two existing black holes. 
The UNLV team investigated various growth models to understand the peculiar rapid spin and misalignment of Sgr A* relative to the Milky Way’s angular momentum. The team demonstrated that these unusual characteristics are best explained by a major merger event involving Sgr A* and another supermassive black hole, likely from a satellite galaxy.
“This discovery paves the way for our understanding of how supermassive black holes grow and evolve,” said Wang, the lead author of the study and an NCfA postdoctoral fellow at UNLV. “The misaligned high spin of Sgr A* indicates that it may have merged with another black hole, dramatically altering its amplitude and orientation of spin.”
Using sophisticated simulations, the researchers modeled the impact of a merger, considering various scenarios that align with the observed spin properties of Sgr A*. Their results indicate that a 4:1 mass ratio merger with a highly inclined orbital configuration could reproduce the spin properties observed by the EHT. 
“This merger likely occurred around 9 billion years ago, following the Milky Way’s merger with the Gaia-Enceladus galaxy,” said Zhang, a distinguished professor of physics and astronomy at UNLV and the founding director of the NCfA. “This event not only provides evidence of the hierarchical black hole merger theory but also provides insights into the dynamical history of our galaxy.” 
Sgr A* sits at the center of the galaxy more than 27,000 light years away from Earth, and sophisticated tools like the EHT provide direct imaging that helps scientists put predictive theories to the test. 
Researchers say that the findings from the study will have significant implications for future observations with upcoming space-borne gravitational wave detectors, such as the Laser Interferometer Space Antenna (LISA), which is planned to launch in 2035 and is expected to detect similar supermassive black hole mergers across the universe.
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planet-of-the-machines · 1 month ago
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Heartbeat (Part 3)
*The intruder drops from the vent to the floor, allowing the worker and heavy Drones to get a better look at the enemy. It is an unusually small Murder Drone — one about half of Uzi’s old size… discounting her black tail, longer than the disassembler was tall, thicker than the one she saw on N and with multiple green lit branch sprouts and… fins? The drone herself (it at least looked like a girl) had short, white hair that turned blue at the tips, and was wearing a blue turtleneck with a cleavage window (not that female drones had any cleavage) under a sleeveless, white trench coat. Oddly, her eyes were green instead of the yellow she saw on N, as were the five… bulbs on the top of her head, and all the caution patterns on her body.*
Bee: “Do we shoot the child–?”
Uzi: [[PTSD Vietnam Flashback.MP3]] “NOT SOON ENOUGH!!!”
*Uzi grabs the laser pistol from her yellow friend. Firing at the kid (?) Murder Drone landing a few hits that almost immediately heal away.* 
*Uzi didn’t have long to take this in, as before she knew it, the smaller drone was right up in her face, sword in hand (well, technically it was where her right hand was supposed to be), and was swinging. Uzi shut her eyes and threw her hands up in defense…*
*Except the blow never came.*
*Opening her eyes, she found that her right forearm had shifted like her leg had earlier. Instead of a wheel, however, it was instead replaced by a shortsword, which was now blocking her smaller opponent from ending her life. Said opponent– G, judging by the name on her yellow armband –unlocked their blades and prepared for another swing.*
*The next several seconds consisted of the purple-haired WD/HD/?? Blocking a rapid-fire assault from the small Murder Drone, as well as a few attempted impalement attempts using their tail. This only stops once she realizes she;s being shot at by Orion (using a rifle he picked up from a guard at the Elite Guard HQ earlier). The disassembler deploys her wings and launches herself at the red and blue HD. She grabs onto his left arm, driving her sword into his shoulder, causing him to drop his rifle. G then attempts to wrap her tail around him to let her nanites finish the job. Seeing this, Uzi unwittingly turns her legs into jet engines and flings herself at G, using her shortsword to cut off her long tail.*
*What followed was the Disassembly Drone screaming so loud it nearly caused the audio sensors of everyone nearby to short-circuit. Uzi, meanwhile, has been carried into the wall by inertial.*
*Bumblebee uses the opportunity to try and hit her with a pipe, hitting her on the shoulder blade area. The yellow HD promptly almost gets a shortsword to the face, which he narrowly dodges, only to get a bird-like foot (-!?) to the chest – sending him falling onto his back, and G towards the staircase–*
Wheeljack: *returns carrying various tools and a foldable stool* “Okay boys, let’s–”
*–only to crash right into the returning mad scientist. Landing in a heap, the smaller drone stabs his visor, effectively blinding him in his right eye. She then flies into the stairwell and upwards.*
Bee: “Should we…  follow her?” 
Uzi: *getting up, balancing on her jet engine legs* “Of course we should, we wounded it!” *gestures to G’s severed tail* “That little midget won’t know what hit her!” *starts cackling* [[I HAVE SUPERPOWERS!!!]]
Orion Pax: *clutching his shoulder wound, which is leaking oil* “Didn’t you say that N regenerated his entire head after you shot it off?” *she stops laughing, and her manic smile droops while the larger drone sighs* “Look, I don’t know what’s going on with you, Uzi, but… this is no cause to get in over your head.”
Wheeljack: *screaming in pain from the corner* “MY EYE!!!” 
Hot Rod: “Well, anyone got any other bright ideas? Besides charging straight in like in the movies?” 
Bee: “I might have just gotten one…” *everyone, sans the half-blind scientist, turns to look at the yellow HD* “…but you’re not gonna like it.”
Author’s Note: For those of you wondering, Serial Designation G is Duck Anon’s OC, used with their permission. Now if you excuse me, I need to get to bed.
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greenlightbulbonawire · 5 months ago
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Misfits (yeah like the Arcane song) XL.
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Summary: From the dark musty cell of Stillwater all the way to the very base of Firelights, but where to from there? Guess you'll just have to let fate lead you.
Author's note: Guys please don't be affraid to comment literally anything that comes to your mind, I love reading and responding to your comments, it genuinely makes my day!!
previous chapter: Thirty ninth chapter
next chapter: Fourty first chapter
Masterlist
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You pulled a wire and it popped, causing a slight explosion. 
“[Reader?!]”
Echoed from the room above you, before rapid footsteps approached your door and threw it open. You had your back turned to it and as it flew open, you slowly rotated your head to look its way. Your face was covered with gray dust and your hair pointed in every direction. Your ass was sat on the ground and an almost disassembled hoverboard laid in your lap, eyes wide.
“WHAT DID YOU DO?”
You raised your hands to your head and shrugged.
“Is that a hoverboard??”
“.....No?”
“How did you manage to blow up a fucking hoverboard?!”
“I dunno.”
“You’re gonna get yourself killed one day I swear.”
“C’mon, I’m fineeee.” You waved your hand dismissively and wiped your face clean, leaving a dirty trail on your forearm. “What were you doing with it anyway?” “I was just tryna figure out how they work, that's all.”
Ekko shook his head and slipped into your room, closing the door behind him and joining you on the ground a few seconds after.
“Why not just ask me?”
You shrugged and started to gather the blown up bits, gathering them in a pile in front of you. “You’re busy enough as it is, I’m not gonna bother you with something as stupid as that.” “Stupid?? I’d love to tell you how they work, why would you think otherwise?” “I dunno, I mean, I just felt like you have better things to do, especially after the Council blew up.”
“Please, nothings better than spendin�� time with you.”
You felt your body freeze a little and his words lingered in your head. What was that even supposed to mean?? Ekko quietly scooted closer and started rummaging through the pile you made, pulling out a bigger piece of the board. Your mouth was slightly agape as you watched him for a few moments, trying to figure out what to make out of this whole situation, then you shook your head, making you concentrate on the present.
“Still, I have a feeling that the wellbeing and safety of the people here are a priority right now.” “Yeah well, maybe that's why you should ask me next time, instead of blowing yourself up, don’t ya think?” He nudged you with his elbow and began to fix the device with the tools you had lying around, previously using them to disassemble the machine.
“Okay, you got that?”
“I think so? I never really did stuff like this, but I think I’m starting to get the gist of it.” “What made you want to know how my hoverboards work actually?”
You chuckled, a wave of nervousness washing over you, eyes tearing away from him and burying into the ground in front of you. “You know how we found the big lizard?”
The boy paused what he was going for a moment to look at you, only to realize you were already avoiding his eye contact. “Why am I afraid of where this is going [reader]?” He said and continued to look at you, waiting for you to look back at him, finding your nervousness quite amusing. A sigh escaped your lips as your head finally turned his way and gave him an awkward smile. “I’ve been visiting her and-”
“So it’s a she now?”
Ekko straightened his position and raised his brow, ignoring the fact that you were supposed to visit the animal with him. He knew very well you’d just go there alone anyway and it was easier to just let it go than argue with you. “I think so, I’ve named her Fae.” You replied to him, a little more cheerful now. Ekko scoffed and shook his head, an entertained smile growing on his mouth.
“You named it?” “Her, yea, why not?”
The boy stared at you for a few moments, then he rubbed his face with his hand and sighed, his lips still curled into a smile. “You’re lucky that I like you. ‘couse… whatever, how does it connect with you blowing up a hoverboard?” “Well I thought that if I could understand how they worked, that I could make a bigger one and transport her here. She doesn’t want to leave the street no matter what I do and I can’t just leave her there.”
“Hol’ up, hol’ up, you wanna bring the big lizard, INTO MY BASE?” He stared at you for a moment with wide eyes, before continuing to talk. “What about asking me first huh?” “I know, I know, should have, but c’mon, you’ll help me right?”
“Wha- ugh, yeah I’ll help you, but the creature…”
Ekko paused for a moment, looking at your face as you raised your brows at him before he rolled his eyes and corrected himself. “Fae is your responsibility, not mine okay?”
“Of course! Thank you!” Your face lit up with a smile and you embraced him into a quick, tight hug.
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boydyke · 9 months ago
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I will not engage in callout posts whether or not the subject material is "true." whether or not it's exaggerated or everything's written on the tin. callout posts are constructed in ways that usher only one outcome: total destruction or even death. they are crafted with the goal of isolation, ostracization, cutting off all support systems, alienation, all of the above. and what happens to those with no support? they kill themselves. there is nothing that will make me feel justified in crafting the material reality in which to encourage someone to die. it's nonconstructive. it doesn't help the victims, not really. it's not built to help the victims. callout posts are not built for positivity, recovery, rehabilitation, growth, healing, succeeding as a person. they're not built around change, or betterment. the goal is justice, and with what's at stake, death = justice.
it is deeply important to always, always be aware of how these documents are used as a systemic tool; perpetrating violence not only against the individual but against a whole class of people. we've seen it most blatantly with this recent mass document of "problematic trans girls"; but any individual callout against a trans women can, has been, and will be used to further their social genocide. (what's the difference between a mass document and several rapid-fire singular ones, other than the transparency of intent? the intent is there either way.)
remember: that document was harmful, not because "none of them even did anything wrong" but because the very nature of these callout posts are harmful. if you consider "whether or not they did something wrong", that consideration WILL be taken advantage of to ruin the lives of countless women. the author WILL find something that you personally deem "wrong enough to socially kill."
don't let it work. don't let your skepticism be used to socially massacre vulnerable groups. stop believing death is justice, and if you do, don't claim to be against the death penalty.
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